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#to perhaps get comfortable with what he is
niki-phoria · 3 days
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YOU GOT ME FALLIN' IN LOVE, I'M IN LOVE
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pairing: gojo satoru x gn!reader (no pronouns used) genre: fluff word count: 591
notes: teen gojo, based off of that one scene in the credits, title from wayv - let me love you, i started watching jjk s2 PREPRARE TO BE SICK OF ME
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“y/n!” gojo smiles brightly, peering at you over the rim of his black sunglasses. a clear umbrella is perched against his shoulder, protecting him from the downpour. he splashes through little puddles lining the streets, kicking up water in his path until he reaches your side. 
his umbrella is only meant for one, as evidenced by how close he has to lean in to cover the both of you. his side brushes against your own with each step you take. if gojo notices your embarrassment, he’s courteous enough not to make a comment about it. 
“fancy seeing you here,” he teases, leaning in towards you. deep cerulean eyes meet your own; gojo’s lips curl upwards into a soft smirk. 
you roll your eyes, chuckling beneath your breath. “we’re both headed back to jujutsu high. we were bound to run into each other.”
“always so cynical,” gojo whines. 
his complaints are cut off when you perk up, glancing at something in the distance. “hey, look!” heat spreads across gojo’s cheeks when you grab onto his wrist, tugging him along with you as you rush off towards a nearby alley. 
you stop near the edge of a building, only a few meters away from a nearby plant pot. hidden among the terracotta ceramic and the overflowing greenery is a small, unmoving, white form. gojo squints. “what is it?” 
instead of answering, you carefully step forwards. water soaks your hair and drenches your uniform as you kneel down, hesitantly reaching your hand out. 
gojo’s eyes widen slightly when a small kitten emerges from behind the vines, rubbing its face against your hand. you turn to look back at him with a bright smile, coaxing him over with a soft. “‘toru, come here.”
you take the kitten into your arms, cradling it against your chest. gojo smiles when it purrs as it nuzzles itself against you, leaving stray, white hairs against your uniform in its wake. you miss the way he tilts the umbrella forwards to protect you from the rain. “look how cute she is.”
gojo smiles, kneeling down beside you. the kitten shifts slightly in your arms, blinking up at him with beautiful, golden eyes. her ears flick when stray droplets of rain land on the top of her head. her fur is damp to the touch when he tentatively extends his hand out to pet her back. “she is pretty,” he murmurs.
“can we keep her?”
gojo bites his tongue, swallowing the “yes” that wants to crawl out of his throat. taking in a stray cat isn’t exactly the most responsible decision, but then again, saying no to you has never been one of satoru gojo’s many talents.
what’s left of gojo’s resolve crumbles when you hug the kitten a little tighter. she responds by stretching out in your arms before blinking at him as if expecting an answer. “please?” 
maybe you should leave the kitten behind. set her back down on the ground and hope that she’ll be able to comfortably fend for herself. or perhaps you should take her to a shelter; you could drop her off into the capable hands of a vet and wash yourselves clean of the responsibility.
but maybe you should take her home. maybe having a friendly face greeting you at the end of a hard day wouldn’t be so bad. maybe - if gojo gets to see you smile like this - the risks are worth it. 
“fine,” gojo smiles softly, welcoming you - and your new kitten - back underneath the umbrella. “we can keep her.”
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Cyberpunk
housewifekeeper droid!jongho x programmer!reader
futuristic/apocalyptic droid au
genres and warnings: fluff, angst, established relationship, a bit tragic but no tears i hope :) yunho, woo and san cameos, violence warnings, hostage situation, near-death experiences, etc.
word count: 23.7k
synopsis: when you find jongho assigned to be a droid you need to 'fix', it takes everything in your power to pretend that you don't know him, that he isn't the boyfriend you left behind to keep safe. with no idea where you are and being under constant surveillance while trying to find a way to turn jongho back to human, you manage to run away with him only to learn a shocking and sinister truth that makes you regret ever being part of the eden droid project. you must put an end to your mistakes once and for all, and it may cost you a lot.
manager-nim: @eightmakesonebraincell (we call it cryberpunk bc it became the bane of our existence)
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“You really think I’m incapable of taking care of myself?” you asked, making a face as you grabbed your bag and slung it over your shoulder. “I’ve been doing just fine so far, Sir.”
“You’ve lost a lot of weight ever since we woke up, so yes, you definitely haven’t been eating well. You can’t keep surviving on instant noodles,” your supervisor, Mr. Han said. “Besides, this is a good chance to test if the droids we’ve programmed can actually perform household tasks.”
“I did not programme droids to make food for us,” you muttered under your breath but you supposed that was the least of your worries right now. “I’m pretty sure you need a housekeeper more than me. A housewife, perhaps. You must miss your wife.”
Mr. Han only smiled in response and you felt annoyed by that. It was as if an unspoken rule had been passed- that no one could talk about their life before they ‘woke up’. You reckoned everyone was just keeping silent until one of them would complain out loud. It hadn’t been that long since that little episode so you figured no one was that desperate right now. 
“It’s the Team Leader’s orders. Nothing I can do about it. Maybe I’ll get a droid next to drive me around- if they’ll allow it. It would be nice to have a look around this empty town and see if we’re the only ones awake while the rest of the world is asleep.”
“I don’t like this,” you pursed your lips, scratching your wrists. Something about all of this was making you anxious. “Just between you and me, are they really sus-”
Mr. Han shushed you with a finger on his lips, his eyes flickering in the direction of the CCTV in the corner of your office. “They’re testing out your droids, miss. You know what they say- a perfect droid should be as good in battle as it is in the kitchen.”
“Wasn’t that supposed to be a joke?” You muttered, deciding to leave it there. “It feels like a big joke. It’s like my droids are being insulted by being placed in the kitchen.”
“You thank the deities there isn’t a war right now,” Mr. Han almost whispered. “When everyone wakes up… there might be. And if there is a war in the future when every nation will possess their own set of droids, when you have to run for your life and are injured… who do you think will take care of you? Not a human, I’ll bet.”
Those words stuck with you during your ride back home. They kept looming over your head while you took a shower and changed into a comfortable set of light blue pyjamas. With a towel hat, you sauntered into the kitchen to make yourself coffee, looking in the fridge for something to snack on and finding nothing.
Perhaps you really did need a housekeeper. A droid- one that wouldn’t complain and would do as told.
And as the doorbell rang after a few minutes, you took your words back when you opened the door to a familiar face. The anxious feeling in your gut finally settled in resignation.
This was what you had been dreading. 
A million thoughts processed in your head in a matter of seconds- maybe you could give the droids a run for your quick decision-making. Because you needed to make a big decision, right now. 
It had to be some sick, twisted joke that Dr. Jin, Head of the Eden Droid Project, was playing with you. There was no way that this wasn’t intentional. Of all the 7 billion people in this world, they chose the one person you had been wishing would never appear in front of you- at least not until you were done wrapping up what you had begun.
Choi Jongho. Your best friend, the person you loved and had to leave for good.
The one person you had done everything in your power to hide from these people, from everyone. Hell, you didn’t even dare think of him ever since everything went downhill lest someone spy on your own thoughts. 
And now he was here, and worse, a droid. A lab rat. His left pupil flickered blue to confirm that.
“I’m CJ, the droid assigned to take care of your personal needs.”
“CJ,” his codename rolled like a foreign language on your tongue, your voice coming out as almost a whimper but you cleared your throat. “CJ. The housewife, eh?”
The droid appeared confused and you, for the first time, loathed programming the droid’s facial expressions to sync with the human emotions. “I’m not quite sure…”
“The assistant,” you let out a short laugh. “I presume you have your identification files and code?”
Jongho said your team’s code out loud before handing you the files and you quickly looked over them. Assigned by your own team- how fucking convenient. You nodded and handed the files back, peeking behind him- looked like he had his personal belongings. “Please, enter and make yourself at home… I guess?”
“There’s another document you need to look at before I enter,” Jongho said almost mechanically, digging out a letter from the inside pocket of his jacket and your brows rose in surprise when you saw that it was from Dr. Jin himself. Begrudgingly, you unsealed the letter and read the contents, the smile falling from your face when you were done.
“Alright,” you breathed. “I see how it is. You can enter now… CJ-”
You caught Jongho staring at you almost like he was fully human. Fear gripped your heart in that moment and when he only bowed in response, you stifled the sigh of relief. He stepped inside your apartment, looking around. He was probably scanning every nook and cranny for potential threats. When he was satisfied, he turned to you.
“Is there anything you would like me to do?”
“Tonight… nothing,” you nodded slowly as you thought. “I’ll show you your room and you can uh… rest? You should wake up at 7 tomorrow and prepare a light breakfast for the both of us before accompanying me to the office. That should be your first task.”
“Understood,” he said and you showed him the spare room and he assured you he had his basic personal necessities. You went to your room, the coffee long forgotten at the kitchen counter and you shut the door. 
Make no mistakes.
You turned off the lights and went under the blankets, covering your face like you usually did- and that’s when you let out a shaky exhale and let your emotions take the better of you.
There could only be two reasons why Jongho was here as the droid assigned to you. The first one was pure coincidence- maybe he was just one of the other humans randomly selected by your team. Maybe this was all just bad luck. Maybe this was a slap on your face from the force above, since you dared to play god yourself. 
But another possibility… the one that made more sense, was that they knew. They knew Jongho was someone important from your ‘previous’ life. From before you entered Phase I of the Eden Droid Project- . They must have known and were using that to their advantage, but either way…
Either way, Jongho wasn’t sent to assist you and play housewife. That was all bullshit. He had one purpose, and that was to have you under surveillance. That probably meant that the New Government was aware that you weren’t as loyal as you appeared to be. Perhaps, this was a test of your loyalty, and they were going to confirm it with the task that was detailed in that letter.
Fix CJ.
Two words, yet you understood the message. You were to live with the droid for a certain period of time and fix the only glitch your droids had- that they were too human. All the while, you would definitely be under surveillance by him. Perhaps, the Team Leader thought that giving you the space you needed with your own personal test subject was what you needed to finish debugging the droid. Perhaps, they knew you had been delaying fixing the droids on purpose. Whatever it was, you had no choice now. 
You would have to fix Jongho or else you would be exterminated along with him.
—---------------------
It was almost unsettling waking up to the smell of eggs, butter and bread. For the few seconds that you lay in the bed, you almost thought you were back in your parent’s home and your mom’s voice would call you for breakfast or your sister Cookie would tickle you until you yell at her, but the bed was too soft and the blanket did not smell like the sun. The alarm rang only a few seconds later and on cue, two solid knocks sounded at the door.
“Miss Jeon? Breakfast is ready.”
God, you thought. This was going to be difficult.
You said you’d be out in 10 minutes and forced yourself to walk to the bathroom like every other day. Somehow, your steps felt heavier than the first day you woke up here. The feelings of disorientation and panic then were nothing compared to the anxiety that dissolved in your bones the moment you heard Jongho’s voice.
Whatever you did, you could not slip. You would have to keep on pretending that Jongho was just a stranger, a droid to you. Just a bug that needed fixing, you told yourself as you exited the room and walked towards the kitchen-
“I told you, the pan needs to be tapped in the middle of baking so the top of the brownies crinkle!” Jongho said as he took out the said pan, now with fully baked fudge brownies with a perfect crinkly top and you gasped at how good it looked. “Would you believe me if I say this really is my first try?”
“Looks too good to be a first try,” you admitted. “I’ll give my verdict after I taste these. Who knows? Might find an eggshell in there.”
“Hey, what do you take me for?!” Jongho looked offended and you grinned. He shook his head as he cut a piece for you and put it on your plate. You spotted a faint smile on his face and you dug your fork in the brownie, about to take that bite when he tsk-ed and held your wrist.
“You’ll burn your mouth,” he took the fork from your hand and you pouted. You watched him wait a few seconds, blow on that little bite before feeding it to you himself. Your eyes went wide as soon as you realised how rich the brownies tasted.
“Oh, my god,” you breathed. “Jongho. You’ve just won my entire heart all over again.”
Jongho burst into laughter, looking down and you leaned across the counter to cup his face and make him look at you. “You look at me when you laugh like that, okay?”
“Stop it,” he wriggled away from you, a flustered mess. “Let me taste them.”
“Here,” you took your fork and blew on the new bite before handing it to him. He nodded in satisfaction. “Normally, I wouldn’t contribute to anything that would give you an ego-boost, but this one deserves it. Cookie won’t believe it when she hears about this.”
Jongho smiled once again, continuing to cut the rest of the brownies for later. “What did you mean when you said… that I won your heart again?”
You stifled your smile. “You want to hear it?”
Jongho looked expectantly at you in response. You scanned his figure- his hair messily swept back, flour on his cheeks, rolled sleeves baring his strong arms, and to top it all, your apron on him. Your smile grew wider.
“I fell in love with you all over again.”
“Miss Jeon?” Jongho called, frowning at the way you stood in the middle of the living room, your eyes stuck on the apron that wasn’t yours on the person who wasn’t yours. He wasn’t even the same person anymore.
“Sorry,” you gulped, shaking your head. “Needed a moment to process uh… what I’m seeing right now.”
Jongho didn’t respond and that finally made you move and sit at the table where he set down a mug of coffee. He would have retorted if things were normal and you smiled sadly to yourself at the thought. You heard the clink of the mug and when you saw Jongho pick up his own tray of breakfast and move, you cleared your throat.
“Where do you think you’re going?” 
“To eat my breakfast and give you privacy while you eat yours?”
This was the time to make things clear- better yet if you were being watched. You put one leg over the other before you said, “Look, I assume you know what you’re here for, CJ. Who are you?”
“A droid that needs a little fixing.”
“And how would I figure out what needs to be fixed if I don’t watch your every move?” You cocked your head. “Does that make you feel unsettled?”
“I do not feel, for I am a droid,” Jongho responded mechanically and you shook your head, urging him to join you. You detected reluctance in his movements and your heart sank a little.
“That’s the thing with you droids,” you almost whispered as if letting him in on a secret. “You forget that you are humans programmed to be droids. Until you possess human nature, you cannot be fixed… that’s what I believe. The superiors think otherwise. What do you think… droid?”
“I…” Jongho frowned again. “I’m just following orders.”
“I know,” you told him and he relaxed a bit. “We’ll need to interact and talk more for me to figure out what exactly needs to be fixed, okay?”
“Okay,” he said. You took a bite of the bread and he mirrored your actions. You ate the rest of your breakfast in silence, finishing together. 
“I will examine your code when we go to the office,” you told Jongho. “You will need to guide me a little. I may have created the blueprint for you droids but I haven’t programmed every single one of you.”
“You can access my code only at the office, by the way,” Jongho said and you set your cup down, almost clenching your jaw as you looked at him. “I’ve been programmed to reveal my code files only in the office.”
“Have you now?” You scoffed internally. “Well, I’ve been programmed to be a lazy bum who works best in the comfort of her home and I’m human, so let’s see how we deal with this… predicament.”
Jongho almost looked curiously at you. You checked the time and told him to meet you outside in 10 minutes. Just before he took your car keys from you and opened the door, you sighed.
“Do you know how to make brownies, CJ?”
—--------------------------
“Don’t you think it’s ironic?” You said, sparing a glance at your supervisor who was examining the code on the shared screen right across from you. “We’re trying to find an error in a human. Being human is the error. How do we override the nature of who the droid really is- completely and irrevocably?”
Mr. Han had heard that quite a lot, and not just from you. Every programmer and developer in this project had asked him this question at least once, and he often found himself wondering the same too. “I’m highlighting this line of code, see what you can do about it.”
You looked back at your screen and clicked your tongue. “Not this one. That’s Dr. Seo.”
“Oh, then I won’t tweak it,” he said, scrolling further. You glanced at Jongho who lay on his front on a stretcher with a cord attached to his back to access the chip and its data inside. He was unconscious which you thought was convenient but every time he came back to consciousness, you were afraid he was going to recognise you, make a mistake and destroy everything you had worked for so far.
How could you tell Jongho to pretend he didn’t know you without telling him?
“You look spent. Shall we call it a day?” Mr. Han caught you staring at the droid’s body.
“Please, yes,” you stretched dramatically, producing cracks and he chuckled at that. “The amount of times I have zoned out today… I think I need a chip inside me that would override my mental stamina at least.”
“Says you,” Mr. Han scoffed. “The child prodigy. The kid that built the foundation of this project.”
Oh, how you regretted that. “Please, you flatter me way too much. I was only one coder with a few hundred others.”
“But you were the youngest and your work is our blueprint. I have every right to flatter you,” he said, his conclusion leaving a sour taste in your mouth. “Dinner at the cafeteria?”
“Why would I? I have my own personal chef now,” you grinned.
“I thought you were against droids doing housework or something.”
“Yeah, well,” you finished shutting down the programme and unplugged Jongho. “This one is quite good at it.”
Jongho was, and it was making you realise a few things- muscle memory. Something you nor any coder so far had considered to be a factor worthy of attention. You noticed that when he made the brownies for you a few days ago and exactly at half-time, he opened the oven to tap the pan against the counter once. 
It took everything in your power to not react to that. To not let your emotions take the better of you and maintain your composure. However, you did ask him if he had accessed some recipes recently before making the brownies and when he denied, you knew then. You knew that this was not only from memory but muscle memory.  
Could this be the reason droids were not perfect? That their muscle memory was ingrained in them to the extent that no programme, no code so far had overridden it? 
Whatever it was, you knew you had to keep this observation to yourself.
As Jongho started to regain consciousness, you maintained a certain distance between you two, glancing around- most of your colleagues had signed off for the day. There were only a few at the far end of the room and then there was Mr. Han who was just leaving for the cafeteria. You locked eyes with the droid and found your hands getting clammy when he started blinking rapidly, trying to adjust his eyes to the light. As soon as he looked at you, you started tapping on the desk lightly, waiting for something while praying for the opposite.
Waiting for him to look at what your fingers were tapping and praying that he wouldn’t recognise it, even if you were doing this to rock his human memory.
However, your prayers were actually answered this time and Jongho straightened as the confusion in his eyes disappeared. “CJ of Team 8.”
“That’s right, welcome back,” you sighed, tossing him his t-shirt and he wore it. It irked you a lot, how the droid was not reacting to having woken up from unconsciousness without clothes on his upper body. Jongho would have been a flustered mess.
This was not Jongho. He looked as different as he felt different.
“We’re done for the day,” you told him when he got up. “Are you feeling okay? Any haziness? Something off?”
“Perfectly fine, Miss,” he confirmed and you nodded. 
“Let’s go, then,” you said. 
Over the past few days, you had made no progress whatsoever with the droid assigned to you. You weren’t sure if people were expecting quick results from you- Mr. Han was monitoring each and every move you made in the office as if you weren’t already being surveilled by the droid itself. You were half certain that Mr. Han was also ordered to keep an eye on you but you’ve always had doubts about that man. His ‘fatherly’ nature was a little too overbearing and demanding at times.
You had no idea how long you were going to keep working on Jongho until he would be deemed ‘unfit’ like the other droids you had failed to save. Failed to fix, actually, but resultantly, they lost their lives. You could not do that to Jongho- perhaps, fixing him as a droid was the only way you could save him, but…
How could you do that to him?
How could you do that to him, you wondered as he set the table and settled down on the chair in front of you, saying his usual ‘enjoy your meal’ before digging in himself. You almost expected him to put a piece of meat in your bowl like he used to do before everything went wrong. You almost expected him to ask you what was wrong when you would zone out just like you were now-
“You’re not eating,” the droid said.
A simple statement, void of emotion, but…
Muscle memory.
Could this be what could really change everything?
“I… I’m just tired,” you said. The truth, but you wished you could tell him what exactly was going on. You put a spoonful in your mouth anyway. 
“You worked overtime today,” Jongho said and you nodded. This droid had a knack for sounding way too human, or maybe you were over analysing everything because it was someone you were familiar with. “Would you like me to make you some tea after dinner?”
“No, thanks. I’ll make my own tea,” you scoffed to yourself. If his muscle memory was really still intact, he would get your tea just right and you were not prepared for that. “Isn’t it ironic, though?”
“What is ironic?”
“Humans have made so many machines for the sole purpose of serving them,” you ate another spoon as you watched Jongho, noticing that he needed a haircut now. “All these machines, and yet they would prefer a human to work in the kitchen.”
“A droid is not a human.”
“A droid is a human,” you corrected, locking eyes with him in challenge. “A machine is something like… that coffee-maker. That microwave,” you pointed. “Something like that, yeah? As long as you have a functioning heart, you are human.”
“Whatever you say, Miss,” Jongho said almost dismissively and you rolled your eyes at his automatic response. 
“I wonder if humans need someone to work in the kitchen for them- for a specific taste that only humans can construct or to keep company or for whatever reason… why would they not send these heartless machines to fight for them? Why would they send humans?”
“A machine can only make so many decisions,” the droid said.
“Yeah, well, they want me to fully turn you into a machine,” you scoffed loudly. Damned be the consequences- if they were watching you, they should pay heed to your words. “What’s the point of you being a human-turned-droid then? We could have built a human shaped machine designed for war from scratch. We could install whatever thinking ability it needs.”
“But it would not think or make decisions like a human does.”
“Well, are you human right now, then?” You wondered and that finally got the droid to shut up. “Because you sure sound like one right now despite insisting that you are a droid.”
“Can’t a droid be both?” Jongho frowned and your eyes twitched in response- you couldn’t believe what you were hearing. You searched his face for any signs of recognition but found none.
“I guess that’s why it has to be a human that gets turned into a machine,” you concluded. “A machine wouldn’t have asked me that question.”
Jongho didn’t react to that. He simply finished his meal and waited for you to finish before he cleared the table. You made yourself that cup of tea and looked over your code from today, wondering how you were going to proceed from here. If you were really being watched right now, you somehow needed to let Jongho know that he should not react when he recognises you. How were you going to pull that? 
It was near impossible. And with that thought, you went to your room to prepare for the worst.
You were trapped in a town that wasn’t yours. Just like everyone else here, you had magically woken up in your new house, in your new room and had simply been instructed to follow the orders if you wanted to live- no further explanation. What you had gathered so far though was this whole thing had been planned since decades. The New Government- the group of people from all over the world who were the masterminds behind the Eden Droid Project aimed to create an army of droids and then distribute them among the powerful nations so they could have the ultimate leverage over the less powerful nations and make them submit to them. 
It was evil, it was twisted, and when you first began programming for robots instead of droids that were actually humans, you never would have thought that this was what it was going to come to. You worked with your friends Yunho and Wooyoung- an inseparable trio. As soon as your team sensed something darker, you all decided to leave and you cut ties with your family and friends, moving away without any explanation to attempt to make things right again. Your sister was the only one who had an inkling of what was going on and she had kept your parents calm but Jongho…
He didn’t deserve what you did to him, and now he was here. You were probably going to die by his hands. And maybe… maybe you deserved that.
You prayed your family was unconscious just like the common people who weren’t a part of this. Sometimes, you wondered if you had been fed a lie- sure, the world had progressed a lot but how could 99.9 percent of the world’s population be in a state of unconsciousness as they claimed? How was the world functioning? Machines could only handle so much especially if autorun, and droids couldn’t replace humans even if the world had progressed a lot in the past few decades. You were sure you had been brought to another piece of land and fed this lie so you would cooperate with them. 
Whatever it was, you had no choice but to obey. You were not allowed to question anything. And if you gave up on this project and they killed you, it wouldn’t make a difference because someone else would eventually figure out how to fix the droids. 
As you finished showering and sat down in front of the vanity, wrapped in your bathrobe to dry your hair, you wondered if this environment was created for the coders and programmers specifically so they could produce quick results. You felt like a lab rat and the fact that this might be true was making you nauseous. Just when you were about to settle down in bed, you heard the sound of a dull crash and you went to inspect- it looked like the sound came from the direction of Jongho’s room.
Sure enough, Jongho was picking himself up from the floor, brushing his clothes and when he looked at you, he flinched-
In pain.
You started tapping a single word on your thigh repeatedly, hoping he would understand it- just a simple ‘no’. No to whatever he was thinking, no to whatever he was about to do if he managed to get a few moments of clarity as a human. Jongho’s gaze fixed on your thigh and you asked him if everything was okay, continuing to tap that word.
“I heard a crash- did you trip or something? Are you having motor problems?”
“I…I don’t think so, I…” Jongho exhaled loudly, his fingers pinching the bridge of his nose as if that could rid him of the ache in his head. “Sorry for disturbing you.”
“Will you let me check if everything is good with you?”
“You can’t access my code here-”
“I actually can, I just haven’t been allowed to,” you told him. He must have known since he didn’t react much. Good, you thought. He was still CJ. “I’ll just have to override the security files… or we could head to the office. It’s going to take the same amount of time.”
“I think I’m fine,” he straightened. “You can check my code in the office in the morning, or right now- whatever you prefer, Miss.”
“Morning it is,” you shrugged, feeling defeated. “Goodnight-”
To your disbelief, Jongho was tapping something on his thigh as well. You did your best to appear nonchalant when he finished tapping a single command. 
“Goodnight, Miss,” he said in his usual flat tone before turning to go back to his room. You took a deep breath before going back to your room and sitting at the edge of the bed as you translated his message.
Help.
—------------------------
You were more suspicious of everyone around you including Jongho now- now more than ever, especially since you just came back to your office after presenting your monthly progress-
Which was little to none, if you had to admit. You did try talking in circles but it never worked in front of the panel.
“You’ve been here for 3 months now, Miss Jeon,” Dr. Seo closed your files detailing your progress and winced as if the lack of your progress physically hurt him. “I can’t tell if you’re being stubborn or if you no longer want to be a part of this. Because there’s no way you haven’t figured it out already.”
“I… I appreciate that you believe in me so much, I really do,” you met eyes with all of your seniors who had seen through every step of your journey especially in the beginning, when things were normal. “But I’m sorry to admit that I really don’t see a future with what we’re trying to achieve. You simply cannot turn a human into a droid and not expect some drawbacks- it’s humans we’re dealing with, not machines.”
“But it has worked brilliantly so far with your help and everyone else’s who has been a part of this team,” Dr. Jin, one of the masterminds behind the Eden Droid Project said. “And I’m sorry but I expected more from you.”
“Has anyone else figured it out yet?” You asked.
“It’s not that we’re comparing you,” his smirk was almost devilish as if he knew exactly what you were hiding. “It’s because we believe you’re the only one who will figure this out. What is the one thing keeping humans from becoming almost the perfect version of droids?”
“Their human nature,” you said.
“What part of it?” He shifted in his chair and you wiped your sweaty hands on your trousers. “Emotions? But you synced them. Is there a fault there, or is it something we haven’t even considered yet?”
You fell silent. They were definitely on to something. 
“Should we have a meeting with the other brilliant coders of this project?” Dr. Seo attempted to break the tension in the air. “Maybe what all our coders need is to interact with each other and exchange ideas.”
You suddenly felt hope- you did consider the possibility that Yunho and Wooyoung were also here, forced to work just like you. If you could just meet them, if you could just see them-
“You know why we haven’t allowed them to meet,” Dr. Jin reprimanded. “I can only allow healthy discussions within the designated teams. Miss Jeon, if you need some help, we will accommodate you as best as we can, but I will have to ask you to be quicker with this. We do not have much time and if we do not come up with a solution first, if another nation beats us to it, we will lose our advantage. Don’t you want to go back home and be with your family?”
And that was it. The last straw. 
You were aware that this was some sort of a race now. Whoever would figure out what was wrong with the droids would have the advantage- they could keep it from other nations. They could use that as a leverage because they would be the ones with an army of droids at their disposal. Droids that could make excellent spies, fighters, doctors, and whatnot. Droids that would be weapons for all the powerful and selfish leaders of this world, to use at their disposal when they terrorise the weaker nations into submission. Sure, this was nothing new- the world was always at war with each other but with droids in the question, it could go very wrong. 
And the fact that they were using your family to bait you? The fact that most of the people here had something to lose if they refused to cooperate? How could you undo all of this? Every day, you cursed yourself for ever being a part of this project, for ever giving them the idea that led to this day, yet beating yourself over it would achieve nothing. You had to take action, soon. You couldn’t let them know that you had the answer already. 
You had to wake Jongho up.
“Everything alright?” Mr. Han asked, having spotted you zoning out in the corner of the office next to the window, glancing at Jongho’s unconscious figure attached to the cords- you hadn’t paid much attention to him today. He approached you and opened a box, revealing an assortment of donuts. You smiled despite yourself, picking a glazed donut.
“I just came back from the monthly report presentation,” you told him and he hummed in understanding. “How did yours go?”
“They reminded me why we’re doing this,” he rolled his eyes and you scoffed. “As if I’ve forgotten.”
“Do you think we can figure it out before someone else does?” You asked casually and he looked at you for a few moments.
“It’s not that I have an insurmountable amount of belief in you,” he began and you relaxed. “You’re only human too, and it’s been tough to be away from what was normal, right?” You nodded and he continued. “But I really do think that you can do this. You just need some time. Should I ask them to allow you to work from home too?”
“I don’t think they will agree, but I appreciate it,” you smiled. “They’re doubtful for the right reasons too, after all.”
Mr. Han shrugged and gave you the box, asking you to share it with CJ when he woke up. “He must be having a hard time.”
“Don’t let the superiors hear that you’re empathising with a droid,” you whispered and he winked at you before he went to his station. You went to yours, hoping the office hours could quickly come to an end before you could unplug Jongho. But…
You needed to access all his code files. “Mr. Han?” 
“Yeah?”
“Do you think I could be granted access to all the code files of this droid? Even if it’s just a preview? I think I should check if some other code is interfering with my code files.”
“Should I make a call?”
“If you can?” You asked and he nodded. You went back to pretending you were actually working and Mr. Han told you that you would know your answer in the morning. 
You hoped they would agree, especially after today’s meeting. If they really thought that you’re the one who should debug the droids, maybe they needed to start trusting you more and stop hiding things.
And when you gain their trust and figure out how to save Jongho…
That’s when you would have to make a decision.
—-------------------------
You were not sure exactly what part of you sitting casually in the living room, watching TV with the smell of your favourite tea filling the room, a donut in your hand, rocked Jongho’s human memory but you watched him faint in front of your eyes and your jaw fell open in shock. You remained still as your own memory flashed in front of your eyes-
“Oh, what a sight,” Jongho shook his head as he entered his living room, finding you already having made home on his couch- a towel on your head and donut in your hand as you watched the TV while you waited for him to come back from the convenience store. Jongho put the groceries on the kitchen counter. “I found your teabags.”
“Oh my god, thank you so much,” you gave him a look of gratitude before turning your attention to the drama. “I would have gone myself but you know how tired I feel after showering- it’s like a sign that my day is over and I should just relax.”
“Yeah, and how convenient for you that your boyfriend is willing to do anything for you, huh?”
“Of course,” you muttered absently, eyes widening at the turn of events playing in the drama. Jongho turned on the kettle and sneaked behind you, planting a kiss on your cheek that caught you by surprise and you looked at him as a smile made its way on your lips. 
“What was that for?”
“For being cute?” He booped your nose before going back to the kitchen and pouring the hot water in the cup. You weren’t interested in the drama anymore- you turned your full attention to him. He hummed an unfamiliar song before bringing the cups to you. 
“Did you leave some donuts for me or are they already long gone?”
“Of course I did,” you pouted. “Kept your favourite ones.”
“Good,” he slung his arm around your shoulders and you snuggled into him, making him laugh when your towel bumped with his face. You spent the next few minutes wrestling him as he tried to get the towel out of the way while you argued that on one condition- that he dry your hair for you. Jongho pouted in response, nothing going his way and you pecked his lips to make amends, handing him his favourite donut and he could only smile in defeat. 
You poked the droid’s thigh with your bare feet- he really was unconscious. You sucked in an annoyed breath- how you wished there were no surveillance cameras in your living room. You moved Jongho’s limbs so he was in a more comfortable position and went back to what you were doing.
Sure, you couldn't do anything about this right now but you sure hoped that whoever was going to give you the pass for accessing Jongho’s code files in your home would see this moment and make his decision afterwards. For now, you finished your donut and tea and as soon as Jongho moved, you sat down on the floor next to him and began tapping on his thigh.
Don’t.
One single word, but perhaps Jongho’s mind was too hazy- his eyes widened in recognition and you subtly shook your head no but it wasn’t enough-
“What are you-”
“Ah, good thing you’re back,” you attempted to sound normal but perhaps your unusually high pitch betrayed you. “What do you think? I should be allowed to access your code files at home now, no?”
It wasn’t CJ- it was Jongho looking at you in confusion, and you were so glad your legs blocked the sight of Jongho linking his hand with yours and squeezing it in confusion, in desperation. You squeezed them back to assure him that you knew, that you could hear him even when he couldn’t speak. That you understood him even when he was not himself. 
“Do you recall what you felt right before fainting?” You asked.
“Uh… confusion. Haziness.”
“All normal- are you feeling alright now? We can call for permission to access your code if you think it’s necessary right now, CJ.” 
“I wouldn’t know,” he muttered and he shut his eyes as if in pain. You immediately unlinked your hands and when he opened his eyes, the blue lens in his left eye flickered-
CJ was back.
The droid immediately started getting up and you followed, straightening your clothes awkwardly. “Sorry for the inconvenience, Miss.”
“Oh, that’s alright. Would you like a donut?”
His brows furrowed in confusion and you went back to your seat, sliding the box towards him. When he opened it they were all half eaten- neatly cut in the middle.
“Sorry. I really had to taste all of the flavours. Kept a whole one for you, though. You might like it.”
You pointed at the chocolate-dipped donut and internally cursed yourself for asking him to join you for donuts. You had kept them to rock his memory but considering the events of today, you didn’t need to do that anyway. He stared at that donut for a long time before he finally picked it up to eat.
And you knew then- whatever happened tonight was enough. Whatever went through Jongho’s head tonight was enough- you didn’t have much time. You needed to save him before the human in him gets lost forever. With that thought, you went to your room.
To prepare for the battle ahead. One that might cost a lot of lives. One that was necessary to fight, to undo the damage you had done to this world.
—--------------------------
“Miss Jeon, I would advise you to drop your gun and talk it out,” Mr. Han’s fatherly tone almost made you put the gun you had been aiming at his direction down on the nearest surface and follow his orders- talk it out.
Except there was nothing to talk about anymore. Everything had gone so very wrong, so very quickly.
“And risk an arrest? Or worse? I’d rather not,” you attempted to scoff but it came out more like a whimper.
“Come on- what did you hear?” Mr. Han never moved the gun aimed for your head- good thing you were both stationed at opposite ends of the room. 
“Oh? Should I have heard something then?” You cocked your head. “What I saw was enough.”
What you saw was the file on his desk regarding the self-destruct code installed in the droids that were assigned to different coders- including Jongho. You weren’t sure if it was a careless mistake or if he left it out on purpose for you to see- maybe it was a mistake since you rarely ever went to his part of the office. But your suspicions were confirmed- they had indeed installed some self-destruct files in Jongho in case someone tried to meddle with his code. So with that anger- with that boiling, seething anger, when you went to find Mr. Han and confront him, you spotted him in the next building through the window talking to none other than Dr. Jin.
You couldn’t help but wonder how much of this was planned. Anger consumed you and within minutes, you were back in your office overriding Jongho’s code files and putting him to sleep and then hacking your building’s system to turn off the CCTVs- just like you had practised so many times in the past few days. They may have the best coders and programmers in this building and you probably had seconds, but…
They had forgotten that you were the pioneer of this damned project. You were what they were against, and you had to surprise them again, just like the first time you did when you were still a stupid teen who thought they did something smart. You attached a USB in the main PC with an auto-run file to keep the system glitching while you unplugged Jongho and hastily put his shirt back on his unconscious body. 
You had a couple of minutes at most- you went to Mr. Han’s desk and grabbed all the files you could and stuffed them in your briefcase, taking out the gun you had slipped past the detectors a few days ago during a system crash episode- pure luck. The gun had been in your car for a while but as soon as you saw the chance, you slipped it into your office, not knowing you’d need it this soon. You weren’t surprised to see that Mr. Han kept a gun of his own- you were simply disappointed.
The lights flickered on and off and you figured the technicians must be having a tough time figuring out exactly what was wrong. You could hear your shallow breaths as you shifted your grip on the gun, the sweat from your palms making it feel slippery. 
“If you think you know what’s happening here, you’re wrong, sweetheart,” Mr. Han shook his head. “I’ve been following orders just like you. I can’t believe you’re being this reckless when you too must have a family waiting for you. Someone they use as leverage against you.”
“Almost everyone is here against their will,” you corrected him. “You’re no different than the rest of them. So go ahead. Go ahead and shoot me, but if you do, you’ll lose everything and everyone you love. Eden cannot debug droids without me- I’m sure of it.”
“I never intended to shoot you,” he sighed, lowering his gun and you frowned. “If we’re not being watched right now… we don’t need to do this.”
“Aim your gun at me either way,” you told him and he obeyed. “Did you know that CJ was going to be assigned to me?”
“I knew a droid was going to be assigned to you, but not the specifics. Is there a problem with CJ?”
“A problem?” You scoffed. “Imagine you were in my shoes and it was your wife that was assigned to you as the droid you needed to fix. How would you feel?”
When Mr. Han paled visibly, you realised he may not have known CJ’s identity after all. “CJ… is he someone you know?”
“You don’t know?”
“I don’t know everything, y/n,” he pleaded. “I’m only following orders and supervising you- though you hardly need that.”
“He’s the person I tried to protect all these years,” you bit your lips as you looked at Jongho’s limp figure on the stretcher. “Can you imagine how I’ve been feeling all along? I have to turn him into a droid or else he’ll be killed.”
“I’m sorry, I really am, y/n,” Mr. Han lowered his gun. “Damned be the consequences. What do you plan to do?”
“I’m going to run away,” you told him, lowering your own gun. “With CJ. He won’t self-destruct for now, I’ve taken care of it.”
“They’ll find you,” Mr. Han said. “There’s no way you can be on the road and not be found. The car must have a tracking device.”
“I took care of that too- all it will take is a click. As for them spotting me… I think I know how to take care of that as well…”
“Of course you do,” Mr. Han laughed in disbelief. “Tell me… you know how to fix the droids, don’t you?”
When you didn’t respond, he nodded. “Tell you what- you can do whatever you want from here, but never, ever fix the droids, okay? You hear me?”
You passed a weak smile in response and he finally approached you, emptying his gun and handing you the extra bullets. “I won’t need them.”
“They’ll punish you for letting me go.”
“You can knock me out- I’ll play dumb for as long as I can,” he grinned. “Besides, I don’t think the cameras caught me entering the office.”
“Can you help me get Jongho in the car first?”
Which was how a few minutes later, you found yourself on the road, a jamming device fixed on the dashboard to make the surveillance cameras glitch whenever you would pass. You sped through the unfamiliar roads but you knew you would need to ditch your car soon- there was no way you could blend in when this was a black SUV with the office plate. You looked around the billboards and the street signs for any clue of your location but they were all blank or painted over. The only guide you had was the map in the car but that turned off as soon as you strayed away from your usual path.
You considered waking Jongho up and asking for help but there was no guarantee he wasn’t going to try something that would cost you both a lot. You decided to keep going forward and look for an abandoned building- it was getting dark and you needed to sort this mess out before you could proceed forward. Sure, you had prepared beforehand- you had everything you needed in the trunk of your car, discreetly putting necessities in the bag day after day since the beginning. From tools to clothes to food, you had everything.
Now you just needed to take care of Jongho- currently sprawled across the backseat, his hands fastened with a cable tie. You had no doubts he could still overpower you but for now, you had to make do with what you had. So when you spotted an empty area of the town with a few warehouses, you decided to take a chance and make home in one of them. You parked your car in the narrow space between two warehouses, deciding to hide it later with the empty tubs lined next to the walls. You searched the car for a physical tracking device and when you found it, you crushed it under your feet- you needed to take the jamming device inside with you so this was necessary. Then you turned off the infotainment system for good and finally sighed in relief.
You had done it- you finally ran away.
Just like you had run away from home two years ago.
You looked at Jongho from the front mirror and recalled the last day you had spent with him and your family- a memory you had kept in your heart as the days following got lonelier and regretful-
“Wonder what’s gotten into her,” your sister, Cookie, whispered to Jongho. “Did you propose to her? Is she showing off her housewife skills? Which are little to none, by the way…”
“Please,” Jongho scoffed. “I think she’s just collectively going to poison us all. She’s still sour about how we ditched her to go hiking last weekend, isn’t she?”
“Yeah, well that would make more sense,” Cookie said. “But it was her fault- I asked but she was too busy with her little codes to process what I said and told me to get out. That’s a no, right?”
“Definitely-”
“I can hear you both, you know,” you said, looking at the two. While at other times, you would have chucked something at them and ensued chaos, this time, you simply smiled at the sigh of your little sister and your boyfriend standing shoulder to shoulder as they watched you arrange everything you had cooked (or bought- they didn’t need to know that) on the trays. When you were finally pleased with the presentation, you asked them to help you take the trays out to the backyard where you were going to have a little party- all of you.
The two obeyed and marched outside singing another song that you didn’t know- Jongho and your sister got along way too well and were usually partnering against you. He probably adored her more than you but your sister was smart and knew she had to be on good terms with him so he could spoil her- and spoil he did. 
Your heart ached at the sight of the two and you prayed they would stay like this forever- happy. Even without you. You hoped they could fill your absence in the house and make your parents feel better.
Jongho’s parents cheered for you when you came out. “This is something your sister usually plans but we’re glad you’re not holed up in your room for once.”
“Thanks, uncle,” you laughed. “Just wanted a little breather.”
“You should have joined us last weekend!” His mom sighed in happiness. “The view was so good and the air so fresh. I think I feel younger ever since I came back.”
“I thought you felt older- you were complaining about your kneecaps- ow!” Jongho earned a smack on the back of his head from you and everyone laughed at that. Your mom patted the space next to her and you took the seat, urging her to try the sandwiches you made. The air filled with the sound of their laughs and you felt warm all over as you looked at each one of them, not saying much but committing this memory to your heart. 
You went to take a walk with Jongho later that night to share a beer and go to the park to sit on the swings and relax. Jongho asked you if everything was okay- he never missed anything.
“Perfectly fine,” you assured him. “I don’t think I’ll ever forget today.”
“Me neither,” he smiled and you clicked your cans before drinking. “You’re a bit different today, y/n. If something is bothering you… you can tell me, you know that, right?”
“I know. I trust you, Jongho,” you looked at him. “You know that you’re the one person I trust the most in this world, right?”
Jongho frowned at the sudden confession but nodded. You continued. “And you know that I love you, right?”
Jongho would have gotten flustered and teased you but tonight, he noticed the sadness in your voice. “What is up with you? What are you planning?”
“Nothing,” you laughed. “Just wanted to tell you this before the night is over.”
Jongho narrowed his eyes but when you didn’t give in, he sighed. 
“I don’t know what the matter is, but I hope you know that I trust you too. And I love you too. You’re not alone. You know that, right?”
“I know,” your smile was genuine. “I know.”
And the fact that you were not alone was what needed to change. In the middle of the night, you packed your necessities and left the note for your sister in her room by her bedside which said that you ran away to protect them and you would return soon, but no one could know. You told her to stay strong for you and help the rest cope. You apologised for the burden you gave her but she knew- she had seen you cry in your room for so many nights. She knew you had done something and the guilt was eating you up. She knew it was related to your job.
You prayed Jongho would remember the conversation you had with him and not blame himself.
Perhaps, he did blame himself. Perhaps he never gave up trying to find you, which was how they found him. Maybe running away wasn’t the best choice since they found Jongho anyway- your eyes welled up with tears at the thought of all the lost time, the years you could have spent with your family. Maybe you would never see them again now. With tears rolling down your cheeks and a blurry vision, you surveyed the area and deciding that it looked safe enough for now, you dragged Jongho inside and propped him on a bench, coughing due to the dust. You took off his shirt again and plugged him to your laptop- there were some things you needed to get done immediately- check if you were being tracked, check if Jongho’s trackers were all blocked now, see if there were any signals nearby- droids or not, and finally-
Find out your coordinates.
—-----------------------------
“We are not in the office.”
“Clearly,” you muttered, hugging yourself tighter with your folded arms as you looked at the droid seated in front of you, unbound this time. The droid scanned the new environment, his eyes lingering at the odd things in front of him- especially at the cord and your laptop, your bags and the packets of snacks sprawled on the table between you.
“This is unauthorised,” Jongho stated. 
“Yes,” you admitted. “What are you programmed to do in case you find yourself in a situation like this?”
“Find my way back. If I cannot, I will have to activate the self-destruct code.”
“Going to be quite an explosion, huh?” You sighed.
“It will be very dangerous for you, yes,” he looked down at his limbs. Was he surprised that he was untied for once? “Why are we here?”
“Are you programmed to find out the reason for your unauthorised absence before you make a decision?”
He wasn’t. You got that from the red flicker in his usually blue lens in the left eye. This was the humane curiosity in him questioning things a droid shouldn’t have cared about. You shifted in your position- you hadn’t really planned this conversation so you would have to tread carefully from here on.
“Jongho,” you locked eyes with him. “What is the next step that you are going to take?”
“I can’t access the server,” Jongho frowned. “My code has been altered.”
“You didn’t ask how I know your name,” you whispered. “Choi Jongho. Don’t you remember me?”
“I’m sorry, but I’m not sure what you’re talking about,” an unrelenting answer from a droid.
“Are you programmed to self-destruct if your identity is found out?” You asked. He shook his head no. “Interesting. That can only mean they sent you to me knowing we had history. Do you remember the last time you saw me?”
“In the office-”
“No, you, Choi Jongho. Not CJ. You,” you insisted and he finally frowned- it was working. “How did you feel to learn that I ran away?”
“I… don’t know.”
“You know,” you told him. “Your memories are just locked away. Deep inside, here,” you tapped your temple. “All you gotta do is dig in and think. Remember when you, CJ, saw me with the donuts? Did it rock a memory of yours?”
When he didn’t respond and continued to stare at you, his lens flickering, you leaned forward. “How did you know how I like my tea?”
That was another odd thing that took place a few days ago. No one could make your tea the way you liked it. Only Jongho knew, and only he could make it perfectly every time. Sometimes you wondered if you simply liked the drink he made because he was the one who made it. 
“I don’t know. I just made it how I learned to-”
“Learned from where?” You asked. “From me. We learned to make it together, Jongho. Two dips, let it sit, add exactly 1/4th spoon of honey and dip thrice. Don’t mix it, let it sit for exactly two minutes before you take the teabag out and mix the honey. How did you know? It’s your muscle memory, Jongho. It’s what makes you human.”
Jongho’s eyes widened just a fraction and you relaxed. You had him now. “We’ve been so close to home all this time, Jongho. I found out where we are- only a few hundred miles away from home, an abandoned town. I thought we were someplace else entirely. I thought only we were the ones awake and the rest of the world was asleep- surely they would have searched for you if not for me, right?” 
He shook his head as if in disbelief of what he was hearing. You sighed. “How did they find you, Jongho? Did they find you… or did you find them?”
“Y/n.”
Even though your name was called in warning, your lips parted in surprise because this wasn’t CJ- this was Jongho who called your name. And goodness, how long had it been since the last time you heard your name roll from his lips? How long had you waited for this moment?
You shifted to get up but he raised a hand in the air, muttering ‘don’t’ and you sat right back down. His eyes twitched in pain and he groaned deeply. “You need to get out of here- leave me here and run.”
“Jongho-”
“You haven’t deactivated any trackers- they know you’re here, they meant for this to happen-”
“What are you talking about?” You whispered, blood rushing to your head and making your vision darken for a moment. 
“They even know what we’re talking about right now,” Jongho cried out and you put a hand on your mouth in sheer horror, sweat taking root in every pore of your body. 
Muscle memory, Jongho. It’s what makes you human.
Oh, how absolutely foolish you had been. Jongho got up and whispered, “They’re near.”
You mirrored his actions but almost fell on the floor due to the dizziness- everything was too much. This is not happening. Nothing made sense anymore- you had deactivated every tracker- how could they have found you-
There was a tracker on you.
How could you have been so incredibly stupid?
Jongho reached you in a hurry, the lens no longer a blue or red but simply transparent, revealing his brown orbs as he grabbed you by the arms and shook you a little. “Come to your senses, y/n. You have to get out of here- I don’t know what they’ll do with us. I’ll stay back and distract them-”
“No,” you cried, feeling nauseous all of a sudden. “I’ve run away once. I won’t run away again.”
“This is not running away,” he smiled a little as if it finally dawned on him that he was here so close to you, he was human and he had you in his arms. His hands were steady as they found your face, tucking your hair behind so lovingly, eyes travelling on every inch of your face.
“Don’t you look at me like it’s the last time,” you whispered. “Don’t you dare leave me, Jongho.”
But perhaps, it wasn’t meant to be. Not this time. You heard the unmistakable sound of vehicles- not one but too many vehicles circling the warehouse. Jongho sighed in defeat yet from the look in his eyes and the smile on his lips, it seemed like he wouldn’t want to be anywhere but here. He cupped your face and leaned in, locking his lips with yours and the tears that had been threatening to spill finally found a reason to. He kissed you surely and soundly, breaking apart to wrap his arms around you, his fingers on your back tapping rhythmically-
Morse code.
“What-”
“Shh,” he urged, tapping again. “Everything will be okay. Don’t forget this moment, alright?”
You nodded and buried your face in his chest- your safe space. “Have you forgiven me for running away?” You asked as the sound of the door being slammed open echoed in the warehouse- so loud yet the sound of his dull heartbeat was louder.
“Oh, we will talk about that. One day,” he assured you. “But for now… I love you, y/n. I hope you remember that.”
“I hope you remember that I love you,” you countered, breaking away just to get a good look at his face, at his messy curls falling on his forehead, at the absolute adoration in his eyes replaced by devastation when the soldiers who came barging in pulled you from him harshly and the last thing you saw was him screaming your name before you felt something slam against your head and the roaring in your ears finally came to a silence. You welcomed the darkness this time.
—-------------------------
“Y/n! Will you please wake up? I need to go to the convenience store and I need some company!”
“Go alone, Cookie” you groaned, “Let me sleep some more.”
“I’ll treat you to fried chicken.”
Now that was something worth opening an eye to take a good look at your little sister. Was she bribing you? Clearly. Was it working?
“Give me 15 minutes,” you said, getting up with a groan and she grinned. “I need to get ready.”
“It’s almost evening so take a jacket, you’ve been out cold for far too long. Thought I’d let you know the day has ended!” Cookie called as she left your room. 
Perhaps, getting up immediately was a mistake- it seemed like all the blood rushed down from your head and you fell back on your bed unceremoniously. You groaned in pain- why were you having the worst headache of your life?
When you felt stable enough to move, you made your way to the toilet and washed your face, noticing a fading bruise on your left temple. Now how did you get that? You reached for your toothbrush-
It was not there. Odd. You did not remember throwing it away- if you did, where was the replacement? Groggily, you made your way back to your room to check the cupboard where you kept your supplies and found no signs of a toothbrush.
“Cookie, what prank are you playing with me now?”
“What do you mean?” She called from her room.
“Where did you hide my toothbrush?”
“Why would I hide your toothbrush?”
“To prank me?” You yelled in frustration. “I won’t go to the store with you if you keep this up.”
You heard the angry pads of her footsteps. “Look, that prank was one time. You were so mad I wouldn’t try it again.”
You narrowed your eyes in suspicion. “The smirk on your lips says otherwise.”
“That’s just me finding this funny,” she flipped her hair dramatically as she went back to her room and you sighed deeply, the voice of your mom calling your names in warning stirring something deep inside you.
I will not cry over a missing toothbrush, you told yourself and got ready, wearing a denim jacket over a casual outfit. You went into the living room to drink some water and when you turned-
You almost dropped your glass.
“Can you pour me a little too?” Your mom asked and you found your mouth going dry, nodding subconsciously as you reached for another glass. You watched her drink- why did it look like she had aged a whole lot since you last saw her? Didn’t you just see her last night? Didn’t you spot the grey in her hair, the wrinkles around her eyes ever before?
Or maybe you always saw her but never cared to look. Your mom made a face at you, making you laugh a little as you broke out of your trance. “What’s up?”
“Nothing,” you shook your head. “I was just counting your grey hairs.”
“Y/n,” she laughed loudly. “I think this is my sign to book a salon appointment.”
“Yes, mother!” Cookie came in, squeezing her shoulders. “You should get your grey strands dyed a fun colour- like pink.”
“Oh, come on, what will your dad think?”
“I think he’ll like it,” she winked. “We’re going out- be back before curfew!” Cookie grabbed your hand and dragged you out before your mom could say her usual chant- stay safe, don’t do stupid things, don’t fight, and so on. It seemed like forever since you had heard that and a part of you wished you had stayed to hear it.
Before you knew it, you were deep in a heated discussion about school being fun versus school being a bad memory. Of course, for Cookie, everything was fun. It was kind of endearing how she always saw the positive in everything and made sure to enjoy every moment. You, however, were the pessimistic of the two, though you preferred the term ‘realist’. School did have fun moments, yes, but you didn’t have a normal school experience at all- you were always working with the teachers and seniors who could code. While that was the beginning of your career, you didn’t get to interact with people much and they didn’t make an effort when you had some normal moments.
It was a relief then that Jongho was in your class and never made you feel alone, you wondered as you finished the argument with your sister and the food. She was paying the bill- a rare occurrence because ever since you started working at a very young age, you made sure to spoil her (a mistake- the brat learned that she could convince you to get her anything). Cookie turned to smirk in some sense of superiority she felt for having treated you and you let her have that moment, chuckling as you exited.
“Ah, the weather’s nice,” you looked up at the sky- it was too cloudy to see any stars. “I’m craving beer. When will you get old enough for beer?”
“Just a few more months, sis. We’ll see who’s the better drinker out of us.”
“Yeah, I might be bad, but you can’t beat Jong-”
“Oh, would you look at that,” Cookie pointed at a cafe at the end of the street. “I heard they’ve added cookies to their menu. Let’s get some to take home.”
You rolled your eyes. There was a reason you called her Cookie. Before you could protest, she was already speed-walking, her short hair flowing behind her and you struggled to catch up, looking at your surroundings. 
“Yo, wasn’t there a barbeque place here?”
Cookie paused to look at you. “That was like what- two? Three years ago? You should really leave the house more. Being cooped up in your room all day is doing something to your memory, I swear-”
“It’s not that,” you, for once, didn’t argue, telling her to get some for dad too while you decided to wait outside. 
Why did everything feel so… new? Tangible? You looked at your hand, moving it- were you dissociating? Was it that strange realisation that you were real? But it didn’t explain the ache in your heart since the moment you opened your eyes today. And you were glad Cookie was lost in her own thoughts on the short walk back home, giving you time to think. Just like always, you made a tray with cookies and milk and knocked on your parents’ room, entering when they gave the signal.
“Oh, dear,” your dad sighed in happiness. “Just what I wanted.”
“Long day?” You asked, grinning when they took the tray and placed it on the bed.
“Not really, but was just craving something sweet,” he smiled and you scanned his face- again, the sadness in his eyes was something unfamiliar to you.
“Well, enjoy your cookies. My Cookie is waiting for me outside.”
“Always attached at the hip,” your mom shook her head. “I don’t know how they do that when she’s home all day and the little one is rarely ever home.”
You scoffed when they continued that discussion, exiting the room to see Cookie smiling cheekily with the box of cookies open and one glass of milk-
“Cookie.”
“I don’t like milk!” She protested. “You drink milk. I only dip- why do I need a new glass?”
“I don’t like to dip cookies in the milk!” You argued, sitting across from her. “I don’t like the crumbs you leave!”
“Well, what am I supposed to do?” She pouted. “You won’t drink the leftover milk if I get my own glass?”
“Nope,” you shook your head sternly. “Want me to call Jongho over? He can share with you.”
“And who’s Jongho?” Cookie frowned.
“Oh, please,” you took a bite of the chocolatey goodness. “As if this prank is gonna work on me.”
“No, but seriously, who’s Jongho?” Cookie wriggled her brows. “New imaginary boyfriend?”
“Imaginary?”
“Yes, imaginary. How would you find a boyfriend when you’re home alone- oh, is Jongho a bot?”
You rolled your eyes so hard that you felt an ache. You unlocked your phone to dial his number but found no contact saved. Frowning, you typed his number- did you accidentally delete his contact info? 
“This number does not exist.”
“Strange,” you muttered. “Did Jongho change his number? Did you know about this and decided to prank me because of this?”
“Aren’t you the one pranking me right now?” Cookie actually paused to stare at you. “Who’s Jongho?”
“Choi Jongho? The neighbour kid? Your best friend? Your big brother? My boyfriend? Do I need to say more?” You laughed in disbelief. “Don’t push my buttons by taking it too far.”
“Y/n, are you… are you okay? We don’t know anyone named Jongho. And what do you mean the neighbour’s kid? They never had one- they moved two years ago, don’t you remember?”
Two years. You were hearing this number a lot today. You went to your room to grab a photo of Jongho and slam it on your sister’s face but the grid on your desk only had polaroids of you and your family- no signs of Jongho. Feeling the hair on your neck rise, you unlocked your phone again to find some photos but again, no signs of him. You started sprawling through your drawers, checking your laptops, the pockets of your clothes, your eyes a blurry mess and when you heard the small voice of your sister calling your name, you looked at her.
“Where did you hide the photos? Please tell me, I need to look at him-”
“Y/n, come to your senses,” she sank down on her knees in front of you. “Who are you talking about?”
You glared at her before snatching your hands and marching to her room- you examined the grid on her desk- again, no signs of Jongho. You went through the things on her desk, opening the drawers-
“What are you doing?” Cookie whimpered and you turned to see her crying as well. “What’s wrong? What’s wrong with you, tell me.”
This couldn’t be happening. “It’s Jongho, don’t you remember? The one who taught you how to ride a bike? The one who protected you when you were being picked on in elementary school?” Tears rolled down in succession on both your faces- one trying to pick all the pieces that were threatening to disappear and the other trying to make sense of them. “Jongho, the one you called big brother? The milk to your cookie? The jelly to your peanut butter? Don’t you remember?”
“I- I don’t,” Cookie cried harder, sinking to the floor and breathing as if something was consuming her from the inside. 
“My Jongho, Cookie,” you whispered, gripping her desk. “The love of my life. You had a whole document on your computer about all your plans for our wedding- you made that when you were ten,” you laughed and Cookie chuckled as well, crying harder. “How can you forget?”
“I don’t know!” Cookie’s voice was loud in denial. “I don’t know him!” 
“Don’t you remember when I made food for all of you and you teased us about marriage and how I was preparing to be a housewife?” You laughed at the memory, Cookie’s ‘you made food?!’ indicating she was somehow more surprised to hear that. “We had that little party in the garden, his family and ours, remember?”
“That was-” Cookie paused, frowning. “I remember a party in the garden but… there were our neighbours there, yes, but not someone named Jongho- that was two years ago, right?”
Two years.
“Why did we have that party? Why did you make food?” Cookie looked at you, partly horrified as the dreadful realisation made its way to your mind.
“I… we had that party because I was going to run away. I… I ran away- how am I here?” You looked at your hands and then at Cookie. “How am I here?”
“Uh… this is your home?”
Home. You hadn’t stepped inside your home in two years.
It all started coming back to you in a series of chronological events- from that party to you running away from home and living in a studio apartment that Jeong Yunho had arranged for you. The two of you working to undo everything about that damned project that you could-
That damned project.
Droids.
“Oh… oh goodness-” you rushed to the toilet as a wave of nausea overtook you and threw up, groaning as you clutched your hair- Cookie was quick enough to help take care of your hair while you threw up some more, sobbing along. Your sister was also wise enough to shut the door and let you sob a little before urging you to get up and wash your face, helping you clean up. Once you were done and you had downed a glass of water, Cookie took you to her room and made you wrap a blanket around yourself- necessary at this point since you were shivering.
“You need to start making sense now. What’s happening?” 
You looked at your little sister. You hadn't seen her in two whole years, and she had grown so much in that time. She was also an inch taller than you now, you had noticed while walking. “Do you remember what we did yesterday?”
“Of course,” Cookie folded her arms. “You were in your room all day-”
“And the day before?” You asked. “And the day before that?”
Cookie’s brows finally unfurrowed in realisation. “I… I don’t remember.”
“Do you remember the note I gave you two years ago?” You asked. “The one that told you I was running away?” 
When it looked like she was still lost, you sighed deeply, looking around. “If I gave you a note that told you that I was going to run away but you could tell no one that I’m running away for a reason… that I’ll be back and you have to take care of everyone… where would you hide it, knowing you have to pretend you know nothing as well?”
“I don’t know,” Cookie sighed in frustration. “Why don’t I remember?”
“You’ll get your answers,” you got up, running your fingers along her bookshelf. “Where would you hide something like a secret note? Think, Cookie. They couldn’t have searched that deep, they couldn’t have found that.”
Cookie got up, looking around, and almost mechanically, she went for her underwear drawer and despite everything, you laughed. Of course. No one would dare rummage through her private things- but it got better. She had it taped on the inside of a bra.
“I don’t wear this one, so,” Cookie admitted and you shook your head, watching her open the note and read it again and again. “Make it make sense.”
“Where do I start?”
“From the beginning. Tell me everything.”
—------------------------------
Seeing a familiar face after riding a train all day was what finally gave you some strength to believe that things would be alright, and what finally put a smile on your face as you walked to your mentor, partner-in-crime (quite literally) and old friend, Jeong Yunho. When he spread his arms with a sad smile on his face, you didn’t hesitate to hug him, muttering how sorry you were to learn that he went through something quite similar to what you did.
“I’m just glad you’re safe, little one,” he broke the hug to look at you. “Are we sure there’s no tracker on you?”
“None- they put one on here,” you turned your arm to tap your shoulder blade. “Almost like a needle, Yunho. I would have missed it.”
“What did you do with it? If it’s stationary, they would know-”
“I put it on my sister,” you grinned. “And told her to act like me until I’m back.”
“Hoho, look at you,” he scoffed in amusement. “Finally told her everything?”
“Had to,” you sighed. “And this was the one step that I did not want to take, but she suggested that she could hold the tracker for me,” you handed one of your bags to Yunho who opened his car trunk and tossed it inside. When you were seated on his passenger seat, you asked, “How’s your brother?”
“Oh, all good. He forbade me to come back to the office after he saw the state I was in- broken limbs and everything. I don’t know how I managed to run away. Only a few months later and when I tell him you need me? He lends me his car with a threat that I better bring it back unscratched.”
“Damn,” you whistled. “Better keep that promise.”
“What about you, y/n?” He asked. 
“Do you remember how they took me? That part is still a bit blurry.”
“I thought they tailed me and found your apartment, but turns out you were just unlucky and they spotted you when you were going to Wooyoung’s place. They tailed you- I tailed them- it was a mess. Wooyoung and I barely managed to escape and when we opened our eyes, we were tied to chairs.”
“You were tied? Alone? Is he okay?”
“Yeah,” he laughed. “They should have tied my legs better- I walked around with the chair tied to me until I found someone and they helped us.”
“I can’t believe I missed that sight,” you exhaled in disappointment and he shook his head. 
“You should have seen yourself. I thought they killed you or something. What happened after?”
“Well… I woke up in a new world, Yunho. All futuristic with savvy tech and whatnot. It didn’t look like home. I was alone in a luxurious apartment that wasn’t mine, with a set of instructions to follow. Once I got to the office, I learned that all of us who were present had something to do with the Eden Droid Project- or something to contribute. There were coders, engineers, doctors, literally everyone they could find. We couldn’t ask questions, we weren’t allowed to talk other than for work, and we were watched like hawks. We were made to believe that only we were the ones awake while the rest of the world was on pause. Honestly, if there weren’t people like us there, it would have been so much more difficult.”
“Was there someone you knew there?”
“Dr. Seo. Dr. Jin. The big brains behind the Eden Droid Project- you remember them, right?”
“By faces, yes,” he asked you to hand his water bottle and drank a few sips while he drove on the highway. “So… what next?”
“My team- we were all tasked to work together to fix the droids. The droids that I programmed and the codes that Dr. Jin took forcefully from me when we were his interns.”
“He should have waited until we had perfected them,” Yunho scoffed and you mirrored that. 
“So it’s all starting to feel normal, a month passes. I realise I need to somehow run away and expose what they’re doing, but I have literally no idea what my location is and there’s no one to trust. And to make things worse, they have this brilliant idea to assign Jongho to me. They turned him into a droid, Yunho.”
“Oh… crap,” Yunho glanced at you. “Is he okay?”
“I don’t know,” you pursed your lips. “They decided that I needed to monitor a droid closely and figure out what was interfering with his droid mechanisms. They knew who he was and what he meant to me. They must have had a good laugh seeing me pretend I didn’t know him.
“Anyways, he’s not functioning properly as a droid- seeing me triggers him into remembering whatever memories they’ve locked away inside his brain. I can see that he’s suffering, yet I can do nothing about it, even when he tells me to help. I trust the first person who acted like he cared- Mr. Han, my team’s supervisor. He does help me escape but…”
“But it’s all a part of their plan.”
“Bingo,” you sighed. “I run away with his help, take Jongho far away from all of this, block every tracker and finally get Jongho to feel human long enough to speak- and he tells me what this- all of this was a part of their plan. This was like a simulation for me- I was a player in their game and they waited until I won- or thought so. That’s when they got their answer to the question- what was making droids not act like humans?”
“What?”
“The link between their subconscious brain and muscle memory, Yunho. That’s been the key this whole time.”
“Oh. Oh!” Yunho almost stopped his car in excitement. “How did we miss that?”
“There’s a reason they got Jongho to be a player too,” you shook your head. “Did you find any signs of him?”
“Not yet, but I will continue my search tonight,” Yunho said. “Why did they let you go, though?”
“I don’t know,” you sank down in your seat, hugging yourself. “I woke up back in my house and they made it look like I had been there all this time. But… strangely, only I remembered Jongho. They locked away everyone’s memories, wiped any physical signs of him- whatever they could find. Cookie forgot who Jongho was too- she still doesn’t remember but she believes me thanks to the note I gave her before I ran away two years ago.”
“If they knew where you lived during that span of two years, they would have made it look like you were there all along. That might have been more believable for you, and could have worked- but maybe not. Wooyoung and I would have found you anyway.”
“Does he still blame me for what happened two years ago?”
You, Wooyoung and Yunho were teammates in the initial days of the Eden Droid Project. You were their supervisor and leading the project, and Wooyoung always had qualms about what you all did- rightfully so. When everything went wrong, you had an argument and a falling out with him. Yunho tried for a long time to get you two to talk to each other but without success so he let you two be. You and Wooyoung did often share your files as you all were working to expose the project but that was it. 
“He’s forgiven you. He forgave you long ago- he was just being stubborn,” Yunho chuckled. “When he learned you were taken, he’s the one who tried the hardest to find you. Harder than me too.”
“God, he’s so dramatic,” you chuckled. “Do I get to meet him now?”
“Oh, yes,” Yunho grinned. “He’s waiting for you- party hat and all.”
“No way.”
He was. Party hat and all. You couldn’t believe how much he changed- his hair was longer, he looked more mature, but he still had those fierce eyes and lovely smile. He greeted you with a glare but as soon as your smile fell, he laughed and you finally joined, smacking the hat on his head before hugging him.
“I’m just glad to see you’re unscratched- oh, that looks painful.”
“Glad to see you’re in good spirits too,” you touched your temple- the bruise didn’t hurt anymore but it was an ugly shade of green now. “What did I miss?”
“What did we miss?” Wooyoung turned to get the tofu lying on the table.
“Yep- that certainly was no less than a prison,” you laughed, your stomach growling at the sight of the variety of food on the table. “Can we talk while we eat?”
And so, you briefed them of your ‘prison time’ again, connecting the dots with their help- they intended only to get you from the beginning because only you could have solved that mystery of why the droids acted so much like humans- the link between their subconscious memories and muscle memory was too strong. You could lock away a person’s memory, sure, but the subconscious was something you hadn’t messed with yet, and never intended to either. The reason the people of that project could manipulate memories was because of your team too.
When the three of you were interns in the Droid Project, they had told you to code for machines, not humans. That was how you began. Artificial intelligence was nothing new, you were just aiming to take it to the next level. When they told you that you needed to start coding to make droids, they talked about a better world- a world where soldiers could be able to fight better to defend their land. A world where a doctor could hold an insurmountable amount of knowledge and skills. A world where a patient wouldn’t have to feel all of the pain he would be in. A world where, they mused, you could cook anything you like for yourself without having to go through the trouble of thinking if you were capable. It wasn’t such a bad idea to code for that world.
But it was Wooyoung who accidentally heard what the real deal was. And when he told you both, you hacked into several databases to find out what they really intended to do with droids- and oh, the revelation was startling enough to make you all cry. You couldn’t believe that they used teens to make the blueprint for a world where the Elites- the people of power- would be controlling the droids to make the rest of the world submit to them. This world wasn’t their playground, and they shouldn’t play gods- with that message, the three of you ran away.
And now you were here with the consequences of your actions, with no idea if Jongho was okay. You couldn’t sleep for the past two days and when Wooyoung saw you zoning out in front of the fire in the backyard instead of being in bed, he decided to share a beer with you.
“You look like you have an idea but you’re worried how it will play out,” he observed.
“I mean…” you wrapped your shawl tighter around you. “It can’t get any worse, can it?”
“If they still think you’re back at your home, you might have a chance. They’ll be unsuspecting- we just need to hack into their system and get the Panel to listen.”
The Panel being a group of coders and developers who were, at one point, part of the Droid Project but left just like you. Yunho told you that ever since you were taken, they had been quick with contacting world leaders and giving them a sign that something dark was unravelling right under their noses. He didn’t tell you the identity of those people and you didn’t ask- you trusted him enough to take the right steps. He also told you that they were trying to find a way to get Eden’s military to side with them, but there was no guarantee that the military and the government weren’t already working together so if you made a mistake, you’d be doomed.
“We can’t simply sit and try to hack into their system, Wooyoung, while they have Jongho and several other people suffering with chips inside of them. I’ve seen their experimentations fail and lives lost. I cried myself to sleep everyday and the only reason I’m still sane is because I need to put an end to this as soon as possible-”
“Well, you’re not alone,” Wooyoung told you and you took a deep breath. “We’re here. We’re helping you. You don’t have to do this alone anymore.”
“I do have one idea, but I’m not sure you will agree.”
“If it’s something stupid and you think we won’t agree? You’re probably right and I won’t hear a word about it-”
“About what?” Yunho came outside with his own can of beer. “Was gaming and going to sleep but I heard the chatter.”
“You really should touch the grass once in a while,” you teased. “You can’t spend all your free time in front of screens too.”
“Whatever,” he plopped down on a chair. “Continue, please. Don’t stop on my account.”
“Okay, listen,” you leaned forward, the orange hues of the fire illuminating your face as you spoke. “I need to go and get Jongho back- you both know I can’t simply sit and wait for our hacking attempts to be successful. If they could be hacked, we wouldn’t be here right now.”
“Right,” Yunho agreed.
“When they found Jongho and me, when we ran away, Jongho gave me a short message- two words. ‘Yunho’ and ‘Strictland’. Strictland must be the name of the town they’ve made home at. What do you know about Strictland?”
“Did he… did he tell you to find me and say Strictland?” Yunho frowned. “Are you sure?”
Wooyoung looked as lost as you and you told him you were sure. You watched Yunho’s expressions change from confusion to realisation. “Do you remember when we first found out about the Droid Project, I talked about how this couldn’t have been the first time that humans have tried to create droids?”
“Maybe?” You shrugged.
“I don’t remember, I don’t think so,” Wooyoung admitted.
“Well, the term ‘droid’ only originated recently. There have been other terms used to define the concept of a human machine- and since, at first, the only reason for such a creation would be to fight wars. So they were called super assassins, X-fighters, and a bunch of other stupid terms. Whenever I tried finding more about their history, I got blocked. I even got a few warnings. I thought it must be some confidential information- it would make sense if the general public doesn’t know that such attempts have been made. But… I did find something that suggested that they did succeed once.”
“They did?” Wooyoung looked at you in disbelief. “Wasn’t this supposed to be the first time?”
“I wouldn’t know? They sure make me feel like I’m the one who came up with this. I know I’m not, but I didn’t think that far back into the past?”
“The current droids, you came up with that,” Yunho corrected. “But whatever version- or versions- existed before… there have been occurrences. One that began in Strictland a few decades ago but there’s no evidence. It is said that everything related to that project was burned, all the evidence erased. It was quite a disaster and they covered it up with a few bombs thrown to call it a ‘terrorist’ attack- the military got involved and there was a major clean-up or something. But the facts never matched, and those who dug enough know that the government has been hiding the real incident.”
“And how did Jongho know?”
“Maybe he heard things? He definitely did. And if he heard my name too… they might be coming after me next,” Yunho concluded.
“Well, that just means I have to proceed with my plan.”
“What plan exactly is that?”
You told them what you were thinking. There was a series of ‘no’ from Wooyoung, ‘absolutely not’ from Yunho, but you made them consider every other option and when the sun started to shine its first rays on the trees, you all agreed that this might be risky, yes, but this was probably the only way you could win.
Fight fire with fire.
—---------------------------------
“You must have finally gone insane.”
You lightly shrugged when you heard that- it was rich coming from Dr. Jin when he was the one who pushed you to this point.
“I mean… it’s been a while…” your finger circled the dramatic red button, itching to press it- Wooyoung’s idea. You told him it was stupid but when he insisted that nothing riles people up than seeing big red warnings, you let him craft this goodness. 
“What do you want, y/n? Why are you here?”
“I thought you’d know,” you finally stood up, brushing your clothes. “You still have something I can’t go back without.”
“Oh, that stupid droid? You came back for that?”
“That is a human very close to me, which you must have known when you decided to turn him into a droid,” you glared at him. “Don’t test my limits, Dr. Jin. You know how short a temper I have.”
And you had proven that in the span of the last few hours. Your genius plan had been to walk to their office in Strictland, which was relatively easy because all the soldiers recognised you and whenever they tried to move from their places, you told them the purpose of the device in your hand. Not a bomb, but better, you told them. You had one of the soldiers drive you to the office and then you sat down on the ground, waiting for Dr. Jin to show up.
In the meantime, you had a messy confrontation with Mr. Han. You told him you had not expected him to cooperate with any of this but he insisted that he was still following orders to keep his family safe. Though you despised him for making a fool out of you, not even giving you a hint of what was happening, you could understand his reasons. Your reasons were the same after all.
“He’s my family, and I would have you bring him to me right this instant.”
“Or what?”
“Or else I press this,” you raised the remote in your hand. “And it sets off a chain reaction. A droid self-destructs– for real this time, no games,” you looked pointedly at Mr. Han. “and if there’s a droid within a 2 mile radius of that droid, it self-destructs, and so on.”
“All we need to do is snatch it from you,” Dr. Jin scoffed.
“Well, unluckily for you, I’m the droid that will be setting off that chain reaction.”
A chorus of gasps sounded and your seniors- the one who had once been your mentors- all gaped at you. Dumbfounded. Confused.
“You wouldn’t,” it was Dr. Seo that spoke. Your first mentor.
“I would, and you know that,” you extended your wrist showing a small opening where the chip was installed. “Do you remember this version of the droids, where you would still be more human than a machine? The one Dr. Jin was so quick to reject? Turns out it’s the better version- doesn’t require all the surgeries and whatnot.”
“That’s a bluff, isn’t it?” Dr. Jin scoffed. “You wouldn’t kill yourself over some droid.”
“Again, that droid is my family, and yes, I would kill myself if that means everyone here in Strictland dies and this cursed project comes to an end,” you glared at him. “To save humanity, a few lives sacrificed won’t be in vain- oh, and if you try to snatch this?” You waved the device in your hand. “This was just for the dramatics. It doesn’t work- I don’t need it to activate self-destruction.”
Dr. Jin’s nostrils flared in anger, the wrinkles on his face deepening as he tried to make a decision. “Any chance for negotiations? Because I won’t simply hand over Jongho to you- you couldn’t hack into him and deactivate his droid functions. We clearly have the upper hand.”
“You do,” you admitted. “And you can continue with whatever the fuck you’re doing in here, but I can do something for you and you can do something for me in return, right?”
“What do you suggest?” Dr. Seo spoke this time. “What can you give us?”
“What you clearly want. I know you haven’t found a way to solve that muscle memory problem yet.”
“But given more time, we could definitely do it,” Dr. Seo shifted on one leg, pushing his glasses up. “Why would we need you for that?”
“Because I’m pretty sure you can’t do this without me- I’m the only programmer in Eden who can accomplish this,” your smirk was devilish. “You needed me when you began this project, and you clearly need me now. It’s a shame I didn’t cooperate, right? Maybe if you hadn’t used Jongho to rile me up, I would have actually solved the problem.”
“But you didn’t know what the problem was in the first place,” Dr. Seo said.
“I didn’t, but come on. I would have found out with any droid had I observed it as closely as I did Jongho. Now… I code to make the link between muscle memory and the subconscious dormant, and you uninstall the chip in Jongho and let me leave in peace. Do we have a deal?”
“What’s the guarantee you won’t try anything once you have Jongho?”
“None,” you admitted. “But if you trust me, I’ll trust you. For old time’s sake? And you know where my family lives anyway- I wouldn’t be stupid enough to try anything.”
Dr. Jin and Dr. Seo looked at each other, whispering. Mr. Han looked like he wished he was beside you at that moment fighting with you, not fighting against you. You gulped down the anxiety bubbling in your throat- you had bluffed a whole lot just now but you needed them to buy it. Yes, you could self-destruct but there was no way you would simply just go back.
“Alright, I think we can work with that,” Dr. Seo came closer, extending his hand. “For old time’s sake.”
“You should apologise for playing dirty,” you shook his hand but he only scoffed in response. 
“You’ll have to follow some rules here. Protocol,” Dr. Seo explained and you cooperated this time, letting them scan your body for potential threats and then asking for access to your code. You let them see it- Dr. Seo had made this version with you so when he seemed satisfied save for the self-destruct file that you didn’t allow him to access, he decided to let it be for the moment.
“I have a condition too,” you told him. “I’ll work on uninstalling Jongho’s chip first. Once he’s human, I’ll play my part.”
“Okay- I’ll have a programmer work with you.”
Thus initiated the second part of your plan. You had successfully gained access inside their building and so far, their actions had been very predictable. Wooyoung was right about them asking to read your code too. The self-destruct wasn’t a bluff but you had hidden the real code elsewhere because you just knew Dr. Seo would attempt to replicate it if he got one look at it. You were pretty sure he had gone to note down what little he saw.
What he missed, though, while worrying about the new code was that you did not have one but two chips, side by side, inside your wrist. The other, a tiny thing, attached to the main chip. You finally pressed on your wrist to turn it on.
Surveillance through your eyes. The simplest, most basic droid function, installed in each droid as well as you. But you were reporting back to your server- to Yunho and Wooyoung, who were right at the outskirts of the town, who must have detected your signal by now and would be transmitting the live coverage to the Panel. The Panel, where different world leaders, scientists, human rights workers and other brilliant people were present, the group bigger than ever, waiting to see what you would show them.
And the first sight they saw- oh goodness. Rows and rows of humans strapped on to the stretchers lit by a light so bright that they looked blue. One of them was being brought to you- you were pretty sure your whimper was heard by everyone in the Panel.
Jongho did not look good. The signs of his struggle were quite visible on his bare upper body- a big, ugly bruise on the left side of his stomach, a long slash running down his right arm, a twin bruise like yours on his temple. You were never going to forgive these people. 
With newfound fierce determination, you nodded to the person you were to work with- a woman who looked to be in her late thirties with her stern face and slicked back hair. Without saying a word, Jongho was plugged to the screen and his code files secured with multiple passwords were accessed. Then the two of you started working side by side to end every running code in his chip. It must have taken only an hour and then you were done.
“We’ll take him to surgery. You can access whatever you need here while we take the chip out of him.”
“No thanks, I’ll take whatever laptop you have and work from there. He needs to be in front of my eyes.”
“I’ll get back to you,” she said and moved to a corner to convey your message. After getting confirmation, she allowed you to follow her to the medical section of the office. The lights started to dim the further you walked down the hallway, almost to the extent that you thought they were going to surprise you with something unexpected, but a turn to the right and you were suddenly in a familiar setting of a hospital. You were glad it looked normal- all the neon lights used in the offices had rooted some trauma in you for sure.
Unsurprisingly, the waiting room was equipped with all sorts of necessities you would need. The woman simply turned on the systems and plugged in the USBs before instructing you to wait for Dr. Seo. You rolled your eyes- nothing you could do about that, so you resorted to monitoring Jongho, trying to quell the seed of hope in your heart. 
Jongho would be okay. You would make sure of that.
The process of installing the chips in humans was something you had seen a lot- however, uninstalling the chip was rare. You tried not to recall the time when you first tried to save a person- it had backfired and induced a seizure. While you had worked with a lot of programmers to make sure something like that wouldn’t happen again, the people here kept insisting they didn’t need you to work on this because they thought there wouldn’t be a time when they would have to turn droids back into humans. But you were grateful that you and your team had been stubborn enough to at least make it a little better. 
Now it was up to Jongho and his willpower to make it out of there with full health. You weren’t sure what you would do if something happened to him.
While monitoring Jongho, you started working on the one problem that had doomed your life- the link between subconscious and muscle memory. You had Dr. Seo working with you from his office- it was no surprise that he was monitoring your progress and making contributions considering he was one of the brains behind this project and had a lot of medical knowledge to contribute from the years he worked as a neurosurgeon before he started learning programming. 
But since he was watching, that meant you had to do this properly- and you would. You understood that coming here to save Jongho meant you would have to share the knowledge that could change the power dynamics of this world. You could only pray that the Panel would make sure that these people would never get to put your theory into practice, because you couldn’t imagine a world where humans would be programmed to lose the very essence that made them human to fight for people that could only be called monsters. And you prayed your wildcard- getting the military involved- would work.
It had to be the longest three hours of your life. By the time Jongho was out of surgery, his vitals normal, you were almost done but your hands were trembling uncontrollably, your sniffs were getting louder as you tried to control the sobs that threatened to leave your body, because-
You did it. Jongho was okay, Jongho was okay. 
And you may have just doomed all of humanity with your code. You were pretty sure Dr. Seo might be testing your code on some unfortunate human right now. You should have gone with him- but you couldn’t leave Jongho. He needed to be in front of your eyes. You wished you had some means of contacting Yunho and Wooyoung right now- all they needed to do was tell you that you did well and you would be fine. But you didn’t have the means to hear their reassurance so you had to settle for the hope that the Panel was proceeding with the final part of the plan.
A military raid. Eden’s military against the New Government’s soldiers. Eden had never been so divided. 
A notification popped up on your laptop and Dr. Seo confirmed the validity of the code so far and asked you to wrap it up. You took a deep breath.
The last step. The final step you had to take in order to destroy the foundations of the Eden Droid Project, once and for all. 
You told him to give you a minute- you needed to check if Jongho was okay. With that excuse, you got up and went inside the ward to check on your unconscious friend. The surgery wasn’t anything big, no. It was just like removing a piece of shrapnel from your body, the chip relying on signals to send to the neurons. You just had to make sure that Jongho’s body hadn’t adapted to the chip’s presence so much that it couldn’t function without it anymore.
You wiped your face with your sleeves before clutching Jongho’s hand- you needed his strength, every bit of it. With your other hand, you combed his hair so it wouldn’t fall on his eyes. Jongho stirred in his sleep and you whispered his name. He subconsciously squeezed your hand before his eyes fluttered open. He wasn’t surprised- seeing you wake him up was nothing new, though it had been quite a while. He looked around to get his bearings-
“Oh, goodness, what are you doing here?”
“Good to see you too,” you laughed, wiping your eyes again. “How are you feeling? Can you move? Is your vision okay?”
“Never been better,” Jongho groaned as he sat up, exhaling. “I feel tired. That’s new.”
“That means you’re human,” you smiled.
“What do you mean?”
“You’re no longer a droid, Jongho,” you told him, for once pleased with your work. “You’re okay now.”
“But where are we?”
“Still there,” you let go of his hand to squeeze his shoulder, letting it trail down his bicep which was when you started tapping. “You’ll go home soon, I promise.”
“And you?” He asked, “Won’t you come too?”
“I’ll be right behind,” you kissed his forehead, having finished tapping your message on his skin. Jongho squeezed your hand in warning but you shook your head. “I have to wrap things up here, but I promise I’ll be home soon.”
“We go together, or we don’t go at all.”
“Jongho-”
“I won’t leave you behind, not this time,” he shook his head fiercely. “I know you’re strong. But we’ve always worked better together, haven’t we?”
“You’re still recovering though.”
Jongho called your name in warning and you caved in. You told him to make sure to follow your instructions and you made a request to Dr. Seo that you wanted to be there to witness the end of this. Dr. Seo sent an escort who accompanied the two of you to a lab where he was indeed working on an unfortunate young man just like you had suspected. Dr. Seo cast a wary look at Jongho before turning to you.
“You’ve worked brilliantly so far, Miss Jeon. Shall we begin?”
You nodded and asked Jongho to take a seat. You first went to check the man’s vitals, taking note of his label - CS, 005. “He’s one of the first few, isn’t he?”
“He is,” Dr. Seo confirmed, setting up your station. “A volunteer, though he didn’t quite know what he was getting into at that time.”
“Right,” you muttered, swallowing the distaste his words brought. “I’ll start now.”
Feeling sorry for the man who was about to lose the last shreds of humanity in him, perhaps forever, you started typing the codes, Dr. Seo watching from his screen across you. There were just a few lines of command left to type and you cast a quick glance at Jongho who passed a subtle nod. 
He was ready. And so were you. 
You had tapped a message to Jongho- Cookie’s play. A joke that ran in both your families of how Cookie would pretend to be sick whenever she wanted to have her way or skip school. And he was going to do just that. 
Jongho groaned loudly in pain, clutching his head, causing Dr. Seo to stop what he was doing and frown at him in confusion while you asked Jongho if everything was okay, your fingers typing a series of codes that were going to be your salvation now. Jongho fell on his knees and you, feigning panic, got up along with Dr. Seo who was genuinely worried for Jongho’s wellbeing since you had made sure that you weren’t going to give them anything if he wouldn’t make it out alive. You started walking across the room to where Jongho was, the droid CS on your way and you paused just a fraction of a second to slip your chip- the small chip they had missed during inspection- in the port on his back from where he was plugged to the system. 
You rushed to Jongho and asked him if he was okay- he continued to act like his head was going to burst open with pain and just when Dr. Seo took out his phone to call someone, Jongho pounced on him, tackling him to the ground and placing a hand over his mouth. You didn’t wait to see who would win as they started clawing at each other- you ran back to your station to your laptop, glancing once at Dr. Seo’s panicked face before pressing enter and enabling the ‘run’ function.
The guards outside must have heard some commotion and one of them peeked in to check but it was too late- thanks to Dr. Seo being impatient and sceptical, testing your code after every few minutes, it only took a handful of seconds for the code to stop running itself which was when the droid opened its eyes. Dr. Seo finally managed to land a punch on Jongho and get him to let go of him. He rushed towards you but before he could stop the guards, one of them yelled ‘freeze!’ and you raised your hands-
Unplugging the droid in the process.
“What have you done-” Dr. Seo reached for his screen to read the code, consumed by confusion and panic as he read the last lines which must be making no sense to him now-
Because the original code was also in that mini chip you had sneaked in. If this went well, you would owe Yunho your life- and Jongho’s.
“CS, 005, what’s your status?” You whispered just so the droid could hear. 
“Okay,” he confirmed.
“Then get up and protect us from the threat.”
You thought you saw the slightest hint of a smirk on the droid’s face and before you could ponder over it, he rose to full glory, straightening and cracking his neck before asking you to take cover. 
What you saw next was something you were sure you would never forget. There was no way this person wasn’t a skilled fighter before he became a droid because he dodged each bullet with expertise and kicked the gun out of the guard’s hand, catching it mid-air and pointing it at Dr. Seo, creeping towards him and holding him at gunpoint.
“Down on your knees, now,” he commanded and the guard obeyed instantly, backup arriving too late. Nothing they could do now- the Head Coder of this project could lose his life if someone made a wrong move.
“How,” Dr. Seo muttered when he spotted you from the corner of his eye. “I saw the code- there was nothing.”
“It’s just like what you did with Jongho and the other droids,” you finally let out the laugh you had been holding. “I am the master now, and my wish is his command. Isn’t that right, CS?”
He nodded in response and Jongho whistled, thoroughly impressed by you. You took out Dr. Seo’s phone from his pocket, unlocked it and called Dr. Jin.
“Is it done?”
“Uh, you might want to come here, Dr. Jin,” you said innocently. “We may have an emergency.”
You hung up before he could respond and Mr. Han came bursting into the room, freezing when he saw just what was going on.
“Uh, I was going to inform you that there’s been a military raid but it looks like it was planned…”
“Maybe,” you shrugged but you couldn’t keep in the sigh of relief- all hope was not lost after all. The military was on with you in this one- looks like the Panel had played their part well.
Mr. Han, to your surprise, was smiling in satisfaction. “Is it going to be over soon?”
“For you lot, yes,” you narrowed your eyes. “You don’t look too mad about it.”
“I’m not,” he smiled and you tried to figure out just what he was thinking but Dr. Jin appeared, fuming. The old man looked like he was going to have a stroke any second.
“Stand. Down.” He commanded. “Or you’ll face the worst consequences, Miss Jeon.”
“Like what?” You cocked your head. “I could have this droid blow your favourite coder’s brains out, right here. I don’t think it can get worse than that-”
Dr. Jin’s phone rang and when he frowned at his screen, you finally let the little ray of hope you had been harbouring in your heart consume you. Dr. Jin picked up the call and you watched all the blood drain from his face. 
“Ah… It can get worse,” you finally grinned, looking at Jongho who appeared a little lost but squeezed your hand in assurance anyway. “CS, you will continue to hold Dr. Seo as leverage until I give you the signal. Dr. Jin… I think it’s time you sit down and accept your defeat.”
Dr. Jin scoffed and attempted to leave the room but you shared one look with the droid and he knew what to do- with impeccable aim, he fired the gun in his direction, hitting right in the middle of his calf. His painful yell echoed throughout the vicinity and some of the guards pointed the gun in your direction instinctively while some rushed to help the man. You ignored Dr. Seo’s series of curses aimed at you amidst the chaos. Soon, a man in Eden’s staple blue military uniform walked in followed by a group of soldiers, ordering them to start arresting everyone in the building- and to your surprise, he nodded at you. CS finally let go of Dr. Seo only for him to be handcuffed and escorted outside.
“Thank you for coming,” you said as a greeting to Eden’s Military Commander- everyone in the room must have recognised him seeing how they were so willingly cooperating now. “I wasn’t expecting you to.”
“It took me quite some convincing to come, but seeing what’s going on here,” the tall man looked around, “I think it was necessary. If you could be so kind as to guide me through the appropriate measures to be taken regarding the droids?”
“Yes- can you make sure Mr. Choi is escorted safely outside first? He might require some medical attention-”
“Y/n-”
“It’s okay, Jongho,” you assured with a smile. “It’s going to take me a while here, but I’ll be with Yunho and Wooyoung. I’ll be okay.”
Jongho looked at the Commander for permission and he nodded, letting him take you to a side for a little privacy. “I’m anxious, y/n. I don’t want to leave you here-”
“I’m not alone, trust me,” you took both his hands in yours. “I need you to get out of here and get to Cookie, okay? She’s going to be worried sick- she knows everything now.”
“Really?” Jongho shook his head. “What about your parents? My parents- are they okay?”
“They’re all fine,” you told him. “They had a memory blocker but Yunho was going to take care of that before he came here. Everything will be normal when you go back.”
“Not normal. Not if you’re not there,” he said and you laughed at that.
“Jongho, I’m so thankful to you for a number of things. I’ll tell you all about it once we’re back, okay?” You promised. “But I need to take care of all the droids first. You know they can’t keep on living like this anymore. You know that better than anyone.”
Jongho nodded reluctantly and you continued. “You saved me today, Jongho. I’ll thank you for that now. And you need to be safe, at home with our families, so I can work peacefully here, okay? We’ll be in contact- here,” you went to grab a paper and pen to scribble your contact number. “You can call me whenever.”
“Alright,” he finally gave in, bringing you in for a hug and you gladly soaked in every bit of it. You needed that for what was next.
—--------------------------
“You’re burning the toasts, Wooyoung.”
“They need to be just the right amount of brown for this dish to come together,” Wooyoung tsk-ed at your ignorance and you scoffed, looking for someone to back you but apparently everyone’s new favourite sport was to gang up on you now.
“We get that you’ve not been in the kitchen for a while,” Jongho began. “But how did you survive living alone in Strictland?”
“Let me guess. Instant noodles and microwave food,” Cookie shook her head in disappointment when you pursed your lips guiltily. “Mom’s gonna have a stroke if she hears.”
“Shut up,” you muttered though your heart ached at the mention of your mother- two years of not knowing where her daughter was had really aged her. “And you’re laughing, Yunho. As if you’re one to say.”
“Still better than you,” he stuck out his tongue at you and before you could retort, you heard the door open.
“I’ve set everything, what’s taking so long?” San said, going to check on Wooyoung. “Now that looks good.”
“See?” Wooyoung turned to look at you. “Man’s got taste.”
“I think I was better off coding in my room, what say you, Cookie?” You turned to leave but Yunho grabbed your arm and swung you back to your spot, laughing along with Jongho. You noticed Cookie was too busy staring at San who was helping Wooyoung plate the last of the dishes now. You met Jongho’s eyes and you shook your heads- her crush on San was way too obvious. Yunho shook his head, amused, and you all decided to let her have her moment.
It had been about 3 months since the raid in Strictland and since then, you were working on wiping clean any signs of the Droid Project in the land. You, Yunho and Wooyoung had worked day and night for a whole month to turn the hundreds of droids back to normal and then it was the military’s job to get them back to where they belonged. Everyone had unanimously agreed that since you guys were the brains behind this, it was your decision if you wanted to keep the data or delete everything permanently. One look at Yunho and it was decided- you were going to burn everything related to the project. It had almost caused the world to lose its humanity. There should be no signs of it anymore.
Everyone who was a part of the Eden Droid Project was tried in court and imprisoned with heavy sentences of treason, especially those who had collaborated with people from other nations and risked their homeland’s security. These included everyone who willingly cooperated- testimonies were heard, yes, but they didn’t prove to be much valuable. All the military needed was a background check of their activities which attested to their willingness- people like you who had left the project in its early stages and suddenly found themselves back were let go of with non-disclosure agreements. Some were put on probation but it turned out good.
What surprised you was when you were called as a witness for Mr. Han’s testimony. He revealed that he had purposely not blocked your memories of Jongho so you would quickly realise what was going on and do something about this project. Since he had always been a part of this project, it was hard to believe that he had contributed to the downfall of this project but you had to agree- if it weren’t for him, things would have been much, much different. He got the lightest sentence among those who willingly participated in this project and he was grateful that you came on his behalf. You figured you couldn’t be mad at him for too long- he probably did what he did for his family too.
The Panel was sure to not let a whisper of this project out- everything was hushed and treaties were signed. You met with a few of the members who commended your efforts but you didn’t take any credit. You did what you had to. You only asked for one favour- to let you and your friends be. You were never going to play with the idea of droids again- this was enough. You were simply going to work on the last droid- CS- from ‘the headquarters’ which was Yunho and Wooyoung’s home. The Panel agreed- they knew better than to get on your wrong side. If the world came to hear about what happened in Strictland, the establishments would collapse. 
As for San, your new friend… he was CS- the droid. The person you felt the most sorry for. The person you had apologised to at least a hundred times in a span of the past few months because it took you the longest to get his droid functions to hibernate, and once he became somewhat human?
You recalled the look in his eyes that absolutely shattered you- the look of guilt and horror. It was very messy at first, countless arguments as you tried to convince him that you were not a monster (but weren’t you? You created the droids, after all) and that you were so sorry for using him as a weapon and as a shield, and you were sorry for what he had to go through all this time. Sometimes, it looked like you two were getting along but then one night, you had your worst argument- screaming and yelling, tears and anger. Yunho and Wooyoung had been out and they chose the worst (arguable) timing to come back home- with Cookie and Jongho. 
And how Cookie defended you. When she heard the yells, she stormed inside and hugged you and you sobbed into her chest while she sent daggers in the stranger’s direction. And then what she said afterwards was how you got here- to being a group of tightly knit friends.
“My sister has been used, manipulated, held hostage in a simulation and made to code you droids with the threat of her family hanging on her head. She went back to sacrifice herself and everyone including you if that meant the world could be a safer place for the rest of us, so don’t you dare call her a monster. If it weren’t for her, you would have been their first killing machine, do you understand? You should be thanking her for trying to save you- she’s still a fucking droid and refuses to feel tired or sleep until you can!”
“Cookie!” You scolded. “Language!”
“I’m almost 18 now, I’m not a kid anymore,” she glared at you and you felt that stab, having missed two of the most important years of her life. She went back to glaring at San who looked… starstruck? “She didn’t see her family and her boyfriend in 2 years because she was afraid she’d hurt us. Don’t you call her a monster ever again.”
Now? Now you smiled proudly whenever you thought of that night. After Cookie’s outburst, everyone was too surprised to say anything and it was Wooyoung who tried to cut the tension in the air by asking Cookie to take you to his room. Jongho stood gaping at the little kid he had practically raised, muttering, “I did not raise her like this but damn.” And he was right. The boys had a good laugh and San slept over it and realised he may have been acting like an idiot. 
And that idiot was clearly very curious about Cookie, you realised when he opened his birthday present for her to reveal a lilac cardigan- Cookie had very casually pointed at someone’s cardigan in the street calling it cute. You did not expect San to be so observant. 
“Oh, this is lovely,” Cookie ran a hand over the cardigan’s soft fabric. “The colour- I love it, San.”
“Stop shooting daggers at San,” Jongho, who was sitting next to you, whispered, poking your stomach and you swatted his hand away.
“I can’t help it,” you whispered back, eyes still locked in San’s direction. “He’s getting way too chummy with her lately. I don’t approve.”
“You literally told San you love him like, two days ago,” Jongho pointed out and you glared at him.
“That’s because he got me my favourite brownie when I had been working all night long,” you said as if that warranted your admission of love for him. “As a polite servant should. His master is losing sleep trying to get his droidy senses back to human.”
“This droid still possesses his super hearing,” San whispered just for you to hear- you possessed that too. “So maybe shut up.”
“Stop looking at Cookie like that and I’ll shut up,” you countered and Jongho laughed out loud, having put two and two together from what he heard you whisper to San. “Don’t make me activate the master-servant dynamics back.”
“Oh, stop that,” Cookie glared at the two of you and you both immediately pretended to be normal, smiling at her. “Please get along for once. It’s my birthday. Where’s your gift, sis?”
“Uhh,” you looked around, digging in your pocket, “Here.”
A finger-heart. Cookie groaned loudly and everyone laughed as you ran for your life when she got up from her chair. “It’s on the way!” You yelled. “I forgot to order it on time!”
“It better be good or else I’ll have San droid-handle you!”
You stopped running, coincidentally finding yourself behind San’s chair. “You wouldn’t. She wouldn’t, right?”
“Your wish is not my command but her wish,” San pointed at Cookie before looking at you with that smirk you wished to wipe off his face, “very well might be.”
“Oh, I’m going back to code,” you started and San laughed, grabbing your hand before you could go inside and apologising like a true gentleman (he was actually a gentleman, you found). Wooyoung complained that the food was going to get cold if you all kept joking around and you finally gave in, settling between San and Jongho and digging into the feast.
It was heartwarming to have all of them together like this, after everything that you went through. You had never felt more content in your life, and it showed, even though you hadn’t reached the finish line yet. You still had to turn San and yourself back to normal- you had been far too busy erasing all evidence of the Droid Project to worry about yourself. As for San, it was a sensitive line to tread on. You did not want to hasten it and he understood- he was just glad that his droid functions could be controlled at his will. He was content too, having reunited with his family and found another here.
Jongho noticed you smiling to yourself as you walked back home from the convenience store- you had gone to get more drinks but you also volunteered because you wanted to take Jongho along with you. You barely had alone time with him ever since you came back so you made most of the stolen moments. 
“What’s going on in your head?” Jongho teased, elbowing you lightly.
“Nothing. I’m just happy,” you grinned. The simple truth- you were happy. “Wanna take a little break?” You pointed at the empty park with swings and Jongho led you inside, the two of you settling on the swings.
“How are your parents?” You asked Jongho. “Are they still confused about your disappearance?”
“They are, I mean… I told them I went to find you but you’re not back home yet. They wonder why sometimes.”
“When did you guys move?” You asked. “It’s a shame that we won’t be neighbours anymore.”
“I know,” Jongho sighed. “My grandmother was sick two years ago- they wanted to move closer so they could take better care of her. We still own that house so we haven’t ‘fully’ moved away’.”
“Oh, does that mean you can come by sometimes?” You asked but then you remembered. “You have college, though.”
“I could come stay there on the weekends if that means we can spend some time together,” he shrugged and you poked his thigh.
“Just like when your parents went on a trip and I would sneak out in the middle of the night so we could have sleepovers?”
“Good old times,” Jongho laughed. Now that you were getting a good look at him, you noticed how much he had changed in the years you had been gone. He was much broader now, the muscles peeking through his half-sleeve shirt more defined, and-
“You’re staring.”
“You got a haircut,” you said. “I like your hair a bit longer, I think.”
“I’m going to shave my head,” Jongho declared and you laughed loudly. Just like the old times. “This reminds me of the last time we were at a park. On the swings, just like this.”
While you had thanked Jongho for a lot of things ever since you came back- for taking care of Cookie while you were gone, for believing in you and not going out and beyond trying to find you, for making sure your parents knew you were safe wherever you were and this was something you needed to do, for not giving up when he got taken and turned into a droid, and for keeping you safe there… you were still struggling with words needed for an apology. Jongho told you time and time again that he didn’t need your apology, but that didn’t mean you felt less sorry.
“Do you consider it a bad memory?” You asked and Jongho shook his head.
“Never. I was a bit out of it when I learned that you were gone, but one night I came back to the park and recalled our conversation. I told you that you could trust me and you told me that you did. You assured me that you loved me and you knew that you weren’t alone-”
“Jongho-”
“Let me finish,” he smiled gently at you. “If you hadn’t told me all of that… I don’t know what I would have done. I was grateful that you had told me that. It meant that whatever you did was necessary.”
“God, how did I get so lucky?” You looked up at the sky, laughing to keep the sting in your eyes from getting worse. “I think I’ve used maximum luck. It can’t get any better than this.”
“Please,” Jongho smacked your arm, his ears going red and you giggled. Even after all these years, simple confessions like these made him fluster and it was the cutest thing. “I’m just telling you this so you can stop looking at me like you owe me a big fat apology. Not a good look at you, y/n. I like it better when you act like you’re the boss and can do whatever you want.”
“But I am sorry,” you told him and he looked pointedly at you but decided to accept it. Perhaps that would take the weight off your shoulders. “I should have told you more. That’s the only regret I had.”
“Oh, we’re fine anyway, aren’t we?” Jongho said. “We’re all back. Our gang has grown, Cookie is finally sharing drinks with you, we got a new friend-”
“Choi San,” you muttered. “I don’t know how you two get along so well. How all of you do. I think we’re still moments away from going full warrior-mode droid on each other.”
“Oh, that’s because you don’t like how chummy he and Cookie are,” Jongho laughed heartily. “Don’t let her find out. She’s gonna start rebelling.”
“Like, I know they can do whatever they want, I’m not against it at all. I’m probably wary because, well, I’m her sister. Of course I’m going to be. It’s just that… he looks at her the way you look at me. It’s unsettling.”
Jongho raised a brow. “Oh? And how do I look at you?”
“With those big eyes,” you grinned, and when his gaze got softer, you smacked his arm. “Stop!”
“Why?” Jongho pulled you closer, making you rock dangerously on the swing but he was quick to cage your legs between his so you wouldn’t fall over. “How do I look at you? Like I’m in love? Like you’re my everything?”
“You need a drink,” you told him, about to bend to pull one out of the grocery bag but Jongho grabbed your arm instead, making you look at him. “Stop, you’re making me shy!”
Jongho must have been in a dire need of drink because he wasn’t all for such romantic moments- but that didn’t mean he wasn’t a romantic. When he was in the mood, you often found it overwhelming simply because you couldn’t believe he could love you so much. He intertwined his hands with yours, caressing the scar on your wrist below which the chip was embedded. When he looked at you, your gaze was already stuck on his parted lips and he didn’t waste time drawing you in and meeting your lips in a heartfelt kiss. You let your arms travel around his neck mostly for support because you were still worried you would fall off the swing but Jongho had you secure, one hand on your waist and the other on your neck as he deepened the kiss.
It was perfect. It was quiet with only the sound of cicadas carried by the cool breeze, the faint sound of traffic almost dismissable. It was nostalgic and contained longing from all the time you spent apart, the time you lost and wished you could get back. But what made your heart content was that it was still the same. He was still the same, just like you had left him. He still kissed you like he couldn’t have been elsewhere. He still held you like he did the first time- with caution and care, making sure you felt safe. As you continued to kiss, he let go of that caution and let himself get comfortable too, the kiss turning passionate. It was only when you heard the sound of passersby- children- that you broke apart with a little laugh.
“Can we ditch going back to give them the drinks and continue?” You asked and Jongho laughed, kissing you for a few moments more before he let go with a sigh.
“You owe me two years worth of kisses,” Jongho said, getting up and helping you get up next. “You better make up for it.”
“Really?” You took him by surprise as you pulled him for another short kiss. “That’s one less for you now.”
“I’ll take another then,” Jongho kissed you back and when he drew apart, you two burst into a fit of giggles. “Let’s go back.”
The short walk back to the headquarters cut a few more kisses from what you owed him and when you set the drinks on the table, you found everyone looking pointedly at the two of you. “What?”
“What took you so long?” Yunho shook his head, opening the drinks and then pausing mid-air. “Actually… don’t answer that.”
“Oh?” San unintentionally quipped in, looking confused for a moment before he looked around and connected the dots. “Oh.”
“Ew,” Cookie said and everyone burst into laughter, making Jongho hide his face in a corner and you threw a packet of chips at Wooyoung who was laughing the loudest, who proved you wrong instantly by laughing even louder. You couldn’t help but join despite everyone ganging up to tease the two of you. You subconsciously touched your wrist, remembering that you were part droid right now but San caught that, sharing the sentiment-
That even though you were part droid, you had never felt more human. You had never felt more emotional, and perhaps, these moments that became a part of your subconscious had ultimately saved all of you. You made a silent prayer wishing everyone’s subconscious would be filled with such wholesome and happy moments. As long as you had this, you would be okay.
Elsewhere, at the outskirts of Strictland, a man dressed in all-black with a cap was standing anxiously waiting for someone. As soon as he saw a car approach, he clutched his briefcase tighter, worried his attempt at a negotiation would go wrong. The car halted a few feet away and a man in a suit accompanied by another of a much bigger stature drew closer.
“What have you got?”
“A few documents and one chip that I managed to hide before they found me,” the man adjusted his cap. “I have a trial scheduled this week so I thought I’d get this done.”
“And everything is here, in this briefcase?” the man in the suit asked and got a nod. He signalled . “Thank you. Your job here is done.”
Before the man could ask what was next, the one standing in the shadows pulled out a gun and shot that man in the forehead before he could blink. The man in the suit wiped his suit mockingly.
“Get rid of him, and make it quick. We’ve got work to do.”
313 notes · View notes
notjustjavierpena · 2 days
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Terror
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A/N: By popular demand! This turned awful in my brain very quickly. I know instantly that this won’t be everyone’s cup of tea, so please read the tags before jumping into this. Not everything is fun and games for hubby. 
Summary: Javier doesn’t think that he has nightmares about Colombia anymore until he suddenly does. The difference is that he also has you and the family that you have given him.
Pairing: Javier Peña x reader (no y/n)
Tags: +18, graphic description of gun violence, some gore, PTSD night terrors, major character death (but not really), panic attacks, domestic, cuddles, hurt/comfort, family time, love confessions, pregnant reader dies in this dream
Word count: 2.6k
Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/54592621
Terror
Javier searches and searches to no avail. He walks with frantic determination between burning cars and bullet shells, occasionally hitting the latter with the tips of his shoes so they go cascading down the asphalt with a clinking sound. He doesn’t trip on them though, as his steps are sure, moving around the chaotic scene of the aftermath of an ambush by grabbing at whatever he can to push himself forward. 
He knows where he is but he doesn’t remember getting here, and he has no clue if he was involved in the shooting that has evidently occurred here. However, when he looks down at himself, he finds no bullet wounds and no tactical gear either. So why does he think that you are here? He yelps as he accidentally grabs the hood of a car that seems to have been burning for a while, the metal so hot that it scorches his skin. The heat radiating from the vehicle makes his body prickle with sweat, his shirt clinging uncomfortably to his skin that is riddled with damp sweat from anxiety. He clutches his burnt hand and continues down the never-ending street. 
Where are you? Where are they? He searches through several empty cars, nearly ripping the doors off of their hinges to get to you quicker. Perhaps you know where they are but he doesn’t even know where you are. 
When he gets to what feels like the hundredth car, finally reaching the end of the road that somehow resembles a labyrinth despite only moving forward, panic has started to rise in his throat. He calls for you but you don’t answer, and then he calls for Lucas in case he has managed to hide himself and his sibling somewhere. 
“Lucas! It’s alright, it’s just me!” He yells out but it’s just the echo of his own voice that answers him, “You can come out now, it’s over, te prome— (I promi—).”
Javier has turned the corner. It is the sight of Horatio Carrillo’s face that makes him realize that this isn’t real. Carrillo is dead, and he has been for nearly twenty years. Javier will never forgive himself for not having been there. He should have been there with everyone. It should have been him; he had had nothing waiting for him back in Laredo. 
In front of him, a row of children and teenagers are kneeling but he doesn’t recognize any of their faces. He has seen this scene before. He remembers doing nothing back then, and the thought is enough to make his gut twist with guilt and nausea even if nothing could have been done to change Carrillo’s attitude towards the kids. He hears a gunshot and a young child falls to the ground, head split open from the way the bullet has torn through soft, young flesh. He flinches in a way that he didn’t back then, in a way that only a man who is a father can. 
Carrillo’s blank and indifferent stare terrifies him to the point where he wishes that he could wake up. It is clear that this is a nightmare, so why hasn’t he woken up yet? Aren’t you supposed to wake up when you have figured it all out? He tries pinching his arm but nothing happens, and the claustrophobia of being stuck in his own head makes his chest constrict and his heart, too big for his rib cage by now, hammer with the speed of a hummingbird’s wings. 
The stare he is watching is not one of being rid of emotion but rather the look that washes over a face when the person it belongs to is dead. His old colleague is standing in front of him in a zombie-like state and Javier cannot shake the feeling that Carrillo looks less like a person and more like a thing. 
“Carrillo,” he says sternly. On the ground, the blood oozes towards his feet and he shifts to avoid it soaking through his shoes. 
His colleague turns to him but doesn’t say anything. He still has the weapon in his hand, arm stretched out, and pointing the gun at the row of innocent children. Javier speaks quietly despite his anxiety, “C’mon, they’re just kids. Look at them; they’re just ki—“
He turns to look at the kneeling figures but the faces aren’t unknown to him anymore. His blood runs cold at the sight of his eldest son who has his arms stretched out to hold Inés close to his body, effectively shielding her from any shot that may be coming at her at any moment. 
“Lucas,” he croaks, “¿Dónde está tu madre (Where is your mother)?”
“I don’t know, Dad,” his son replies, “I’m scared.” 
“I know, don’t worry, I— I’m gonna take care of it,” he replies with a dizzying heartbeat followed by the urge to throw up. 
It’s then that you appear too. His heart skips a beat as you materialize right behind your kids, pregnant with his child and vulnerable as tears stream down your cheeks. Your arms are in front of you, wrapped around your children as you try to protect them while whimpering in a way that makes Javier more than desperate. He tries to sound more assertive than anxious but listening to his own voice, he doesn’t feel very successful. He turns back to Carrillo who hasn’t moved the firearm even an inch, “For fuck’s sake, get that gun away from my family!”
“Están trabajando para Escobar, Peña. Si quieres justicia, entonces esta es la única manera (They are working for Escobar, Peña. If you want justice, this is the only way),” is the only reply he gets. Carrillo spits at the ground.
Javier takes a step forward but suddenly, a shot is fired at his feet and he is forced to jump back with his hands in the air. His eyes are pleading, his voice wavering, “Jesus Christ, Carrillo, they’re not working for him. Put the damn gun down! They’re mine. They are my kids. You’re pointing a gun at my wife!”
Lucas shifts on his spot on the ground. His knees can barely hold himself up anymore, gravel gnawing at his kneecaps but Javier holds out a hand to stop him, “Don’t move, mijo (my son). I know you’re scared but—“
But Lucas’ eyes are wet with terrified tears. He panics, throws himself to the side to crawl away and the ghost of Javier’s previous colleague seems to come to the conclusion that it is too risky to attempt a shot in the boy’s direction in case he misses, so instead—
Javier flinches at the loud sound of the gun going off. You lie on the ground in the next moment. He lets out a cry of anguish, crawling across the gravel road to get to you until his hands are scraped and his knees are dirty. The love of his life and his unborn child.  
“No,” he yells as tears spring from his eyes. He clutches at you whilst you breathe rapidly and try to hold onto him as well but your grip is slowly loosening on him with every beat of your heart. He can see the way your pulse slows in how your clothes soak slower and slower, knows where it is going. You try to say something but he cannot understand it, your voice having been replaced by gurgles of blood, “No don’t try to talk, baby. Shit, I— look, it’s not even that bad. Shh, it’s okay, baby. It’s not even that bad, it’s fine, you’re gonna be fine, mi vida (my life). You and the baby. I promise.” 
The same blank stare as the one that Carrillo sports washes over your face. He says your name over and over, “Mi amor (my love), no, no, look at me. No, no, no no no.”
Inés has started screaming in panic. She’s crying for you in the most heart-wrenching manner, terrified when you don’t react to her words like you always do. Her pitch climbs with each passing second but Javier has no strength to soothe his daughter because he yells your name until it feels like he cannot breathe. 
Lucas yells for his mother in the background. The agony of hearing his children cry mixed with hearing you say nothing is too much for him. He panics, shakes you violently— 
He jolts awake in the next moment to the sound of your voice. Fear still has him in its grip and leaves him disoriented, ready to fight whatever comes his way. He hyperventilates until he feels lightheaded and tries to figure out where he is, beads of cold sweat having collected on his forehead during his restless sleep.
“Javi,” you say with a hand on his shoulder and he whips his head around to face you. A moment ago, your eyes had been glazed over by death.
Immediately, he grabs your wrist in an iron grip. You place your other hand on top of his, speaking softly, “Javier. Let go.”
“Are you alright?” He chokes out and grips you harder, eyes wild in the dimly lit bedroom. He wants to run a million miles, “Are you alright?” 
“I am okay, baby. We’re both safe,” you reassure him with a hand on your pregnant belly. Tears start to roll down his cheeks. He is unable to shake the image of you lying dead on the ground, “Shh…”
“Are you sure?” He whimpers, eyes flickering from your face to your stomach and back to your face again. 
“Yes. It was just a bad dream. It was just a nightmare,” your voice is still ever so gentle and nowhere near the way it had been in his state of terror. He releases the clutch on your arm and you carefully run a hand over his forehead, “Breathe. Hold my hand. Tell me you love me.”
You offer your free hand to him and he carefully takes it, trying to convince himself that you won’t slip away from him in the dark bedroom. You squeeze his hand slightly. It’s a silly thing you came up with years ago. 
“I love you,” he says quietly, already feeling a little better but when you say it back ever so gently, he finds himself bursting into tears. He cries and it is the kind that comes from the very bottom of one’s lungs; frantic and breathy sobs that sound almost painful.
He thought that the nightmares had stopped. They had been bad when he first met you, and he connected it to his decreasing alcohol consumption because back in Colombia, he was sometimes too boozed up to even dream. However, meeting you - marrying you - had been a glimpse into a future where he could get better because you were together. So why does his brain still do this once in a while? 
“Pensé que te había perdido para siempre (I thought I had lost you forever),” he sobs when you engulf him in your arms. He rests his head against your soft chest, grabbing onto whatever he can of you to make sure you are real. It’s only times like these when his strong, broad hands feel unsure on your skin. 
“Oh, baby. I’m right here,” you rock him carefully in a way that a mother does, “I’m not going anywhere, te prometo (I promise you).” 
“No puedo vivir sin ti (I can’t live without you),” he continues. You reassure him that he won’t have to, that by then, someone will have discovered eternal life or made all of you into kind-hearted robots. Despite the chuckle he lets out, you also let him cry for as long as he needs to. 
It takes you a while to calm him down again, resting your chin on top of his head as he lets himself fall into you instead of going out of his mind. He mumbles, “Where are the kids? Where’s Inés?”
“They’re in bed,” you promise him, arms cradling him and rubbing his back until his breathing starts to slow again, “They’re okay. They’re just asleep.”
Except they are not asleep. Your hand stops moving on his back, and he looks up at you to find your eyes on the door. 
“Inés. Lucas. Stop standing at the door,” you say gently. 
“Sorry,” they say in unison.
Relief floods Javier’s system at the sound of his children’s voices. His chest expands as he breathes in deeply for what feels like the first time since he woke up. He watches their little faces, hears the click of the lamp on your nightstand as you turn on the light. 
“Is Daddy okay?” Inés asks carefully. Her eyes tell Javier that he has noticed the tears on her father’s face.
“We heard you yelling,” Lucas elaborates to his father, “Inés didn’t want to go in here alone. I’m sorry.”
“You don’t have to apologize, sweetie,” your voice is sweet and calm. It is in these moments that he loves you the most; when you prove to be the anchor in any storm, knows that the only times he might actually get a good night's rest is when you are right here beside him. 
“Come here, mis amores (my loves),” he scoots a little away from you to open his arms. His children look uncertain for a moment but then Inés rushes forward to climb into bed and into his embrace. Lucas follows a moment after, the both of them earning a kiss on top of their heads. 
Inés’ eyes are wide as she stares up at him, “Papá, you scared me.”
“I had a bad dream,” he explains to both of them and attempts to smile, pulling them closer to his chest. They make faces as they are squished but he doesn’t let go, “but I’m okay now. I’m sorry for waking you.”
“Then why are you crying?” Lucas gets out of the embrace to study his face, shocked to see the tears running down until they drip down from his chin. 
“Daddy! You are crying!” Inés parrots her older brother as she notices too. She kneels in front of her father and tilts her head. 
“I am?” He asks, pretending not to know. Inés’ tiny hand reaches to wipe a few tears away without much success and his heart clenches in his chest with how lucky he feels to have such a beautiful family. 
“It’s okay to cry,” Lucas explains softly, “That’s what Mom says.”
“Alright, let’s give your father some space,” you lock eyes with your husband, cup his cheek for a moment before brushing away the last traces of tears from his face with the back of your hand. He smiles at you and it is completely genuine for the first time. 
“I don’t want to sleep,” Inés protests loudly.
“What if you both sleep in here for the rest of the night?” You bargain whilst still smiling at Javier, however a little more goofily now, “Just for tonight.”
Lucas is already crawling under the covers to cuddle up next to you, and Inés lays down next to her father. It takes a moment of quiet chatter and soothing caresses to make them both fall asleep again, their bodies exhausted from being awake in the middle of the early hours of the morning. 
Javier can’t fall back asleep but from the way you breathe, he can tell that sleep hasn’t found you either.
Outside, the first light of dawn has begun to filter through the curtains. There’s a warmer glow in the room now, and he peeks at you from where he lies, looking like someone catching a glimpse of their crush. 
"I love you," he whispers, his voice barely audible. 
You turn your head to face him and smile tenderly, the morning glow illuminating you from behind. You are so beautiful, he thinks, beautiful and pregnant, and he is so lucky. 
Your voice is filled with genuine happiness, warm and loving. You look down at your sleeping children, place a hand on your bump, and then look back up at him, "We love you too.”
.
.
.
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dearemilia · 3 hours
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When you get kidnapped
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pairings | sunday, aventurine, acheron x gn! reader
tags | a little spoiler for acheron's part but other than nothing is too major, sunday has a little yandere theme, mentions of killing, fluff, hurt to comfort, not proofread
note | God, I finally managed to beat that aventurine boss!! >.< Also, the sunday part is a bit short, sorry about that sunday lovers! :<
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Sunday
He finds it funny how someone can think of kidnapping you.
He’s already informed of the plan because of his crows “What utter fools they are, perhaps a little punishment is enough for them to stay away?”
He’ll personally deal with them once his servants capture them.
He will also need to make sure you don’t know about this and that everything is alright and under his control “Dearest, you don’t need to be so worried, alright? Everything is okay”
After dealing with those fools, he’ll take you out on dates! Buying you everything you want and even the ones you don’t want.
All day, he prays for your safety and happiness. So if anyone dares to take that away, he’ll make sure that they’ll pray for their sins.
Aventurine
No one knows what he’s thinking of right now.
His subordinates don’t know whether they should speak up or not “Find them by dawn and if not…I’ll be sure to cut all of your yearly salary to 56%”
One thing for sure is that they are already searching for you.
It may seem like he’s calm but really, deep down he’s afraid of losing the only good person in his life.
Once he has you back, he’ll shower you with love. You’ll find in your shared room full of new clothes, jewelry, and items you mentioned to him years ago!
And don’t worry, he’s already dealt with the people who were involved in your kidnapping even those who only participated a little bit of it.
“I’m so sorry you had to experience that, my love…” He says while hugging you as you both lay down “I’m truly sorry…This is all my fault…” 
You gently grab his face and press your lips onto his forehead “This is none of your fault…You didn’t know and I didn’t know, it just happened, okay?” You smiled at him.
All Aventurine can think of is how lucky he is to have you.
Acheron
Okay, who would be dumb enough to kidnap you? Like seriously, who?
Your kidnapping happened while she was out buying peaches and you were at home.
As soon as she stepped foot onto your home, she knew something wasn’t right. Noticing how clean the house was.
She balled her hand into a fist, unsheathing her sword.
Just as you were panicking about what happened to you, what was going on, if you were going to be killed?
You feel a familiar pair of arms, wrapping around you, carrying you bridal-style “A-Acheron? Is that you…?” You feel yourself sob, feeling relieved.
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have left you there” You rapidly blinked your eyes as Acheron took off your blindfold.
Acheron places you somewhere safe “Could you…close your eyes and ears for me? This will be quick but it might get a little bloody” 
You nod, turning your head away from the screams of horror from your kidnappers.
You don’t feel any sympathy for them, why should you? They were the ones who were stupid enough to think they could kidnap an emanator’s lover.
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novulen · 2 days
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𝐅𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐇 (𝐓𝐈𝐏)𝐒! — *:ꔫ:*
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"Kento!" You call out as you hear the front door swing open after the telltale and familiar jingle of his keys. After aching to see your lover all day, you practically run up to him, arms acting on their own and nwrapping around his neck.
You take in his cedar wood cologne, basking in the comfort and relaxation the smell provides to your nerves. "I missed you."
Nanami drinks in the feeling of your soft body in his hold and smiles. "I missed you too."
After your mushy greetings, and a quick kiss, Nanami allows you to shrug off his suit jacket. Your touch has always been so soothing to him, but somehow, today, you seem to be catering to him more than usual.
Escorting him to the couch and having him sit down, Nanami's essentially putty in your delicate hands as you straddle his lap.
"Sweetheart, is there something you need to tell me?" he asks, catching on to your stratagem, tilting his head, amused.
In a feigned fit of hurt you gasp, clutching your chest dramatically. "Ken, how could you?!" you frown, sighing into the skin of his neck soon after, knowing he's caught you. Nanami doesn't say anything, his steady breathing fanning past your ear.
"Okay, well..." he fights to bite back his delight, his eyebrows raising as he listens. "I want to get a new set," you mumble, placing your manicured hand in his.
Nanami gazes down at the pink acrylic, with white French tips completed with bow charms, and hums. "What's wrong with these?" he questions, taking your dainty hand in his rougher one, and inspects your fingers closer, unable to find anything flawed with your current set.
"I just have something else in mind. And I promise once you see them, you'll get why." you pout, innocent eyes peering up at him with that look you know he can't refuse.
How could he ever possibly say no to that irresistible look--how could he ever say no to you?
Now having fell into your own trap, a noise of deep contemplation rumbles from Nanami's chest.
Hell, he has the money, why not?
"Alright. When do you need the money, love?" he questions, and Kento swears he can't hear his own thoughts with how loud you squeal in glee.
"Thank you, ken," you swoon, your eyes overtaking a lusty, familiar hue. His breath catches in his throat as you kiss him, completely under your spell as you yet again escort him to another place, this time, your shared bedroom.
"By Friday, baby."
-
Friday comes relatively smoothly. Nanami sends you the money--a hefty 350 for both your manicure and to get yourself something.
You get your nails done, and with every opportunity, hide them from him until the 'big moment'--or so you called it.
"Are you ready?" you ask, excited, as you hide your hands behind your back. Nanami sits on the bed, deliciously manspread, nodding along.
"Mhm.."
"Okay! Here it goes."
Slowly, you reveal your nails to him.
Utter silence takes over the bedroom.
You frown as you look at Nanami, an indifferent expression on his face. "You don't like them?"
He shakes his head. "No, I do. but they're just pink,"
And he's right, they're just pink. a brownish-blush pink acrylic—a color that oddly resembles the one of his tip.
"Well, yeah. That's the point, Ken." you smile, slowly advancing towards the blond sat on the bed. Placing yourself on his lap, you begin to speak again.
"doesn't this color seem...I don't know, familiar?" Your lips are now snaking up his neck, soft and plush. Nanami finds it hard to speak when you're on him like this, talking in that tone.
"I--" he stutters, attempting his best to inspect your fingertips. "No."
You giggle, a breathy laugh fanning across his skin.
Perhaps once you compare he’ll get it.
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keikikait · 3 days
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ʀᴇᴅ ʟɪɴᴇ (ʙɪᴋᴇʀ!ᴍᴇɢᴜᴍɪ x ꜰ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ)
this is part three. for part two, click here!
pairing: biker!megumi x f!reader (au, both are early to mid 20's)
word count: 2.6k
summary: you and megumi almost had a moment, but is that all it will ever be?
warnings: SMUT! MDNI 18+, full on p in v, protection is implied but not stated, use of the word cock, kinda dom!megumi, slight sub!reader, restraining (with hands), light choking (just for like 2 scenes), SLIGHT edging, use of the nickname slut, reader is kinda dumb (good way), suggestive flirting, jealous megs, slight feelings of self doubt / self deprecation at the beginning (so ig slight angst?), not proofread
a note: might be a small delay before pt. 4 x
please reblog and like, it means a lot! let me know what you think!
*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚*:・゚✧
He should’ve knocked on the fucking door.
Megumi enters his apartment, slamming his fist onto his kitchen counter. He felt like such a coward, he had you in the palm of his hand and he just let you run off. He was certain that you felt the same way, certain that if he kissed you you would grip onto the collar of his t-shirt and enthusiastically kiss him back. Was he wrong? Was he foolish? Was he reading this entire situation so wrong? He felt not good enough, he felt insignificant, something he hadn’t felt since graduating high school and cutting off contact with his father. He used to think he was smart, but you made him feel so naïve. Megumi knew he hadn’t always been nice to you, yelling at you over a fucking motorcycle, but normally he didn’t care what others thought. He would simply ignore them if they didn’t like him, but with you it was different. He wanted you to like him. He wanted you to pay attention to him, he would even take te constant bickering over whatever the hell it was you were currently doing.
Megumi was walking a thin, red line, a line that lead to his future, and he was hoping you would want to walk it with him. His bike gave him a feeling of independence, something he never had before moving out and living on his own. He was in and out of everyone’s life, a flash that was gone in the blink of an eye, but he didn’t feel that way with you. He wanted you to stick around, even in the platonic way, although he had to admit that he wanted to make you his. He wanted to wrap his hand around your throat and kiss you right in front of your friend, make you melt into his arms as you gripped his t-shirt and clinged to him. He wanted to fuck you dumb and leave you a drooling, cum covered mess every night. 
You were avoiding him, again, always getting into that car with that guy and his stupid fucking pink hair. He couldn’t take it anymore. You had said he was your friend, just your friend, but Megumi didn’t believe you. Even if your actions were friendly, Megumi couldn’t guarantee that your friend’s were too. Megumi wanted you, and he wanted you to want him too. He wanted to be your boyfriend, or perhaps even more. He wanted to eventually move out of this apartment complex and find a new, bigger place, but he wanted to it with you.
You, in truth, had been staying over at Yuji’s house a lot the last few days, even just hanging out at his place to pet sit for him while he was at work. It wasn't just a matter of convenience; staying over at his place gave you a sense of comfort and familiarity that you couldn't quite explain. Every once in a while, you would find yourself mindlessly petting Yuji’s boy cat, Sora, as if he would chase away the lingering thoughts of Megumi. In a way, he did, choosing to sleep on your chest on Yuji’s couch, keeping you from touching yourself while you were away.
It wasn't that you were deliberately trying to avoid him. It was more like a natural instinct to create some distance between the two of you. The memory of that night outside your apartment still haunted your mind, and you were struggling to make sense of his confusing actions. You didn’t know his true intentions, and as much as you wanted to believe that he liked you, you couldn’t ignore the nagging voice in the back of your mind that was telling you the opposite. Being with him had been plaguing your mind for the past few weeks, thoughts of him always returning to you at night while you dimmed your lights and slipped your hand between your thighs, but a doubtful part of you was insisting that was all it would ever be; thoughts of Megumi, not Megumi himself.
As you spent more time at Yuji's house, you found yourself drawn to his easygoing nature and genuine kindness. His presence provided a welcome distraction from the emotional turmoil you were experiencing, and he seemed to understand your need for space from Megumi and was always there to offer a listening ear without judgment, although he was kind of getting tired about how pretty Megumi is. 
A couple of days later, there was a knock at your door. Your heart skipped a beat. You knew who it was. He stood there, looking nervous and apologetic. He wanted to explain himself, to apologize if he had crossed any lines. He also wanted to know if you were dating that guy, but he thought that part could wait. At least for a little bit.
You open the door, seemingly fresh out of the shower, your hair wet as you carefully dry it. You smelled so good, like berries, and he felt his throat instantly dry up. He was admiring you for a bit too long, you were wearing a t-shirt and short little pyjama shorts that he just wanted to rip off of you - “Hey, can I talk to you for a sec?”
You blink, throwing your towel over your shoulder. “Sure.”
“So, um…”  His eyes linger on your shorts and thighs, his gaze passing over your body before he drags his eyes back up to meet yours. He just couldn’t help himself. “Could I come in?” You nod, stepping aside to let him in. He steps inside, making the space feel a lot smaller with his presence. 
You notice he has a faint smile on his lips, and that he keeps staring at you, but for once, it's not with irritation.  “Um, so…” he takes a deep breath. “So you know how we had a bit of a…moment a couple days ago?” Five days, to be exact, not that he was counting or anything.
“Yeah, I remember.” You say.
“Yeah…” his expression changes as he starts to feel more and more nervous. “Well... I just wanted to apologize for making you uncomfortable. I shouldn't have been so forward. It's just-”
“No, Megumi, it’s okay.” You say, interrupting him. “I wasn’t uncomfortable. Not at all.”
“What?” He asks, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion. “But you ran off…I assumed I had overstepped a boundary. You know, asking the…masturbation question.” He says the last part quietly. 
You suddenly realised how close you two actually were. Your apartment felt incredibly small with just you, and with Megumi there it felt even smaller. Your chests were practically pushed together as you looked up at him. You set the towel down on your desk chair, awkwardly shifting on your feet. “I wasn’t uncomfortable. I just wasn’t expecting the question.”
He nods, shoving his hands in the pockets of his zip-up hoodie. “Good. I know we haven’t always gotten along but I’ve never wanted to make you uncomfortable. I can be an asshole a lot of the time, but I’m not…like that, you know?”
You nod. “No, I understand, Megumi. Thank you for apologising.”
He smiles. “Yeah. No problem.” He sighs a little, leaning against the wall. “So can we…start over? Go back to the beginning?”
You chuckle. “You wanna start fighting again?”
He smirks. “Maybe. If it would mean you would pay attention to me again. Don’t think I’ve noticed that you’ve been avoiding me. Again.”
You blush, stuttering as you search for a response. “N-no, it’s not like that-”
Megumi chuckles. “I mean, I get it. I would always yell at you and then asked you what you thought about while you masturbated. I would avoid me too.”
Your blush deepens. “It’s not like that, Megumi.”
He smiles. “I’m glad.” You both sit there in a comfortable silence before he speaks again. “So, can I ask you something?”
You nod. “Sure. Unless it’s what I think about when I’m touching myself.”
He couldn’t help but chuckle, shaking his head. “No, it’s not that,” He clears his throat. “That guy that picks you up and drops you off sometimes. Are you two…dating?”
“Yuji? Pink hair?” He nods and you shake your head in return. “No. I’m just his friend.”
“You promise?” Megumi asks, taking a step towards you. You nod, looking up at him. You looked so cute like that, your eyes all big, practically begging him to get closer. 
He does, taking another step towards you. He reaches out, planting his hands on the sides of your arms, watching your face and body language as he drags his hands down towards your own. Your skin was so soft and smooth, and his hands felt so good on you, rough and calloused from the years of bike maintenance.
You blush, but don’t move away. You gulp, finally finding your voice. “Do you want to know the answer? To the question you asked me a few days ago?”
He feels his cock start to harden, images of you touching yourself filling his mind. “God, yes.”
You bite your lip and he feels his cock throb. “You, Megumi. I’ve been thinking about you.”
He lets out a shaky, deep moan as he grabs your hands, pulling you against his chest. He moves your hands behind your back, his grip tight but loose enough where you could move away if you wanted to. “Yeah? You think about me while you touch yourself? Do you finger yourself or rub that cute little clit of yours?”
You gasp softly, letting him restraining you. “Both.”
He lets out another deep moan of approval, gripping your wrists tighter. He feels his cock harden even more. “God, you’re driving me crazy. I think about you too, baby. I think about you and fucking your cute little mouth everytime I jack off.” Your head spins and you lean against him, unable to think straight. You just simply moan in response, nodding your head.
Megumi grips your wrists tighter, leading you up into your loft, throwing you onto your bed. He climbs on top of you, holding you down. “Is this okay?”
You nod.
“Words, baby.” He says, leaning down to kiss and bite your earlobe. “Use your words.”
Your mouth feels like cotton and you struggle to respond. “Yes, Megumi. It’s okay. Please keep going.”
He chuckles, pressing his hard cock against your thigh as he starts to grind on you. “Good girl. You even know how to say please.” You gasp, your entire body shuddering as your legs drop open. Megumi shifts his hips, slotting his cock right over your clothed pussy, grinding up against it. “You drive me crazy, baby. Every night I hear your pretty little moans through the wall and I just…think about what it would be like to fuck you dumb. To fill you up with my cum over and over, to cum on your little clit and rub it and hear you squeal.” Your mouth drops open and he takes this opportunity to sloppily kiss you, shoving his tongue in your mouth. Your thoughts are filled with him, just Megumi, the way it should be. He pulls away, a line of spit connecting your mouths and you shake, panting and squirming. He moves one hand to wrap around your throat, and is about to ask if it’s okay when you let out a strangled moan, your eyes threatening to roll back. He chuckles. “Such a good girl.”
Your brain is too foggy, too filled with thoughts of Megumi and the way he feels grinding against your pussy that you can’t speak, reaching your freehand down to pull off your shorts. 
He smirks, squeezing your neck a little bit. “So impatient. You don’t want me to eat you out, baby? You don’t wanna feel my tongue on you?”
You whine, finally pulling your shorts down. “I do, Megs, I do…but if you don’t fuck me I actually might explode.” He laughs at you and it makes your pussy clench. He leans back on his knees to pull your shorts and panties down. He grabs your legs and bends them back, pressing your thighs against your torso. He can’t help himself, leaning down and licking your clit, swirling his tongue in little circles, chuckling to himself as you squirm and grind your pussy on his face. “Megumi!”
He pulls away and laughs again, replacing his tongue with his thumb. “I know, I know. I couldn’t help myself. You look so delicious.” Your impatient whine is cut off when he starts to pull his sweatpants down, taking his boxers with it. Your eyes nearly bulge out of your head when you see his cock. Long, but not too thick, with balls that are practically begging to be drained. He grins at your reaction, rubbing his tip with his thumb. “Is it big?”
You nod, your mouth going dry again. “Really big, Megs. Might not fit inside me.”
He tuts at you, grabbing his cock at the base and rubbing the tip against your clit. “Nah. You can take it. And if you can’t, I’ll just have to stretch you out with my fingers and make you cum a few times.”
He suddenly slides in all the way to the hilt, leaning over you and gripping your hair at the root, groaning into your ear about how good you feel. He gives you a few seconds to adjust, kissing the side of your head affectionately. You can practically feel him in your throat, your eyes threatening to roll back into your skull.
Megumi starts thrusting, one hand remaining in your hair and the other going down so his thumb can rub your clit in gentle circles. He’s saying something but you can’t hear him, too full of him to pay attention, but he doesn’t mind at all. He likes how quickly he can turn your mind to mush, how quickly you submit to him. He never wants to let you go after this.
You wrap your legs around his waist as his thrusts pick up, digging your heels into the small of his back. You wrap your arms around his neck, your eyes glazed over as you moan his name over and over. Your pussy clenches and he nearly cums, burying his face in your neck, biting at the skin to keep himself from busting too soon. 
It’s your turn to grip his hair at the root, your pussy clenching around him again as he rubs your clit at a delicious angle. Your whole body shudders and you arch your back into him. “Megumi!”
“Not yet,” He whispers into your ear, his voice deep. “Not yet, you little slut. You need my permission. You can hold on a bit longer, can’t you?” You nod, biting your lip as you will yourself to focus on not cumming. You could do it easily, but Megumi was having a hard time holding out himself. The way you felt around him, all tight and wet, and the way you bit your lip was driving him crazy, not to mention the way you were following all of his orders so perfectly. You really wanted to please him, didn’t you? Megumi can only hold out for a little bit longer before rubbing your clit harder, biting your neck to keep himself from utterly loosing control. “Come on, baby. Cum for me. You can do it. You’re such a good girl…”
And you are, cumming exactly when he tells you to, your hips bucking into his as he talks you through your orgasm. You look so cute coming undone around him, your eyes watering, lips pouty as you moan his name like a prayer. You bury your face in his chest, breathing heavily.
“Thank you.” You say, and Megumi decides right then and there that he’s keeping you.
Megumi grins, stroking your hair. “You’re welcome, baby.” He kisses your forehead, looking down at you adoringly as you curl up against his chest.
You’re all his now.
*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚*:・゚✧
let me know what you think my lovelies!
★taglist: @whereflowerswenttodie, @rosieandthethorns, @sillygoose3082, @byebibyemia, @ichorstainedskin, @myeeym, @peach-filth, @aockskcw, @phoenixmoxxileigh, @gojussybussylover (reply to this post if you want to be included in the taglist! italics mean i couldn't tag you!)
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goingmerryfics · 22 hours
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Sitting in their lap while they’re not paying attention - w/ Law, Luffy, & Kid
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Content: Gender neutral reader
Notes* Thinking about doing a NSFW part of this.. perhaps..
Law
Sure, he’s not paying attention at the moment. But years of dealing with Penguin and Shachi’s antics have made him hyper aware to anyone’s bullshittery
Usually, as soon as anyone would start to inch towards him, he’d look up from whatever he was doing and warn the person to knock off whatever they were planning and pay attention
But this time, the combination of being exhausted from more lack of sleep than usual and being so passionate about the subject matter he was trying to relay to you, you managed to pull it off
Slowly, you inched towards him as he rambled on, lowered yourself into his lap, and he didn’t even flinch. All he did was move the research paper he was reading off of so he could still see it
You were seated comfortably, sideways across his lap, one arm around his shoulders to keep you steady. Success.
His free hand rests on your back as he continues. He doesn’t notice for a few seconds more, until he glances towards you for a moment
He freezes. His words cut off, and he starts to quickly go red
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
You don’t see him complaining, though
He demands for you to get off of him and quite messing around, but he won’t make a move to push you off. Nor do you feel his hand move off of your back
You tell him to go on, that you’re still listening
He’s too tired to fight with you and, truthfully, he wants to call you on your bluff
So he continues to explain his medical research to you, stopping every now and then to quiz you and ask you something about what he’d just read, or about your own theories
It’s actually a very insightful conversation, and he’s kind of pissed about it
Why do you focus better when you’re being a menace?
Once he’s through though, he does start to gently shove you off
“Alright, get out. I have things to do.”
As soon as you’re gone he leans back and lets out a hefty sigh
You’ll kill him with your antics one day
Luffy
Don’t try it during a meal. Yeah, it’s one of the only times this ball of energy is seated and not bouncing around, but he will shove you away and continue stuffing his face
Best time to try this is when he’s settling down for the day, about to head off to bed
Especially because he’s even more cuddly than usual when he’s ready to sleep
He’ll be hanging out in the boy’s cabin when you enter, they’re all chatting and laughing about something from the last island they stopped at, and the only person that really pays attention when you head straight for Luffy’s lap is Zoro, because nothing gets past him
Sanji doesn’t notice until you’re already in his lap, and he cooes at you to come sit in his lap instead
“What? No! They chose me! Get your own person!”
Luffy’s arms extend and wrap around you a couple times, effectively trapping you there with him, no way to move your arms or anything lower than your shoulders. Not that you mind, of course
Luffy’s always been extra affectionate, whether his intention be platonically or romantically. Hugging, kissing people’s cheeks, holding hands, the works
He pulls you right up to his chest and continues the conversation, your face comfortably resting on him
You can feel the vibration of his chest when he laughs
He’s warm. It’s comforting
If you thought this was a short-term deal, you’d be wrong. He doesn’t want to let you go now that he has your comfort, and you’ll stay in his arms well into the night
At least he pulls up a blanket when he notices you starting to fall asleep
“Aw, already dozing off? But we were having so much fun!”
He doesn’t try to keep you awake, though. You fall asleep against his chest, and sleep peacefully into morning
Kid
There are only two ways you’re going to be able to do this
Either he is truly distracted, or you think he’s distracted and he notices, but he’s just amused to watch you do it
In the first scenario, he would be at his workstation, fixing up his arm. Making some adjustments after noticing that it’s getting a bit loose in places
As long as everything is going the way he needs it to- fixing something is difficult with one arm -he’ll be calm enough not to completely toss you for trying to distract him
Keep talking to him and he won’t notice. He can only focus on so much
You let him know that you brought him a snack and something to drink, and he grunts in response. Good, he’s got all his attention in one spot
You put the plate and the cup down somewhere that Kid will be able to reach it but not knock it over accidentally, and quickly slide into his lap while going off about some updates on what the crew is up to in his absence
He shifts where he needs to so he can keep working without you in the way, which ends up with you facing him, gripping his shoulders to keep you steady
The minute you have nothing more to say, he very suddenly starts to shout
“The hell do ya think you’re doing, idiot!?”
Hop off and run for your life, because he tosses his whole arm your way while blushing as bright as his hair
On the other hand, if you crawl into his lap while and he notices, he won’t speak a word but he’ll watch your every move
You think you’ve gotten away with it
You ramble on and on about whatever comes to mind, but short by a pair of large hands around your waist and his breath tickling your neck
You stumble over your words, blush rising to your cheeks
“Go on, you wanted my attention, right? I’m listening.”
He makes it a tradition that you have to come sit in his lap for your daily reports. he loves seeing your flustered face as you try to remember all the information you needed to tell him, directly to his stupid, smug face
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POWERLESS
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VALENTINO X DAUGHTER READER
PART 2 (part 1)
Summary: Being Valentino's daughter, you should be used to this, right? You should know him, right? But you really don't.
Genre: Smut, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Psychological
Note: Val is referred to as Daddy throughout, Readers age is not specified
HUGE WARNING: RAPE! PHYSICAL ABUSE! NON-CON! MANIPULATION!
Warnings: Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Incest, sexual themes, contracts, manipulation, Val is an asshole, Val is a pshyco, Biting, no foreplay, yelling, threats, talk of breeding, virginity taken, naive reader,
Let me know if I missed any!!
(I do not condone any actions of Valentino in this piece of fiction)
NOT PROOF READ (I spent way to long writing this leave me alone :,))
After that shoot, Daddy had taken you to a lot of his shoots. His goal in his words is to “Get you accustomed to Daddy’s working environment,” you never know why exactly he wants you to get accustomed, but you assume it's so then you can hang out comfortably in Daddy’s studio. You don't mind it, obviously. Despite the inappropriate activities that go on you enjoy spending that time with Daddy. 
Though something you notice is how every shoot you go to, Daddy appears more deranged and.. ‘regal’. He acts more powerful towards his employees, they seem frightened, intimidated by his demeanor. You don't like it, not one bit. Every single shoot he gets worse, and somehow he pulls you closer.
That first instance of his questions wasn't the last, either. But it feels so normal, and you hate it.
But do you really? 
Daddy makes you question it every single day. He doesn't take you to all of his shoots, but it's become enough that you feel normal when he nibbles on your ear and asks if you like what you’re watching. And every single time you answer the same way, ‘Yes daddy, I love it,’ or  just a simple ‘yes’. Though you don't understand what's happening for most of it. It all feels so odd, so different, yet normal. 
One day when you didn't accompany Daddy to his shoot, you instead hung out with Vox for the entire day. 
Vox is also different to you. You don't often hang out with him- or at least not as much as Velvette. He's cool, and he's also beloved by many. Just walking through the office with him made you feel like you were being watched, judged, scorned by many. But Vox makes it clear that just being with him makes people adore you. 
You’ve never been an official member of the Vees, more of an honorary member that doesn't really do anything but be treated. And at first, that label fit. You enjoyed being treated. 
But now you just feel like a puppy following its master. No matter who you’re with in the Vees. You feel like a dog, like a pet, like an object. 
You never go out alone. You don't know why, any time you’ve brought up the idea Daddy detailed that if you were alone anywhere someone would hurt you. But more and more you’ve been craving it. That individuality from your family, or daddy. 
One day, perhaps. Perhaps you could go out in the world without your leash, without an owner with you. You could be individual, be different. People could know you, not as ‘Valentino’s daughter,’ but as-
“Baby, have you picked an outfit yet?” 
Daddy snaps you from your daze, you realize this entire time you’ve been thinking. Daydreaming. Ruminating. But you have picked an outfit, at the very least. It's a very cute skirt and sweater combo, a red heart pattern across both garments. Though the skirt is a bit short for your comfort, you remember Daddy complimenting the skirt earlier. And you’d like to make him happy. 
“Yes Daddy! Sorry,” You say, running from your bedroom to where Daddy is adjusting his coat. He chuckles to himself, shaking his head in dismissal as he looks over at the outfit you wear. He squints his eyes, making an audible hum before leaning down to your level. “How about we make it sexier?” Daddy asks, pinching your cheek between his claws. 
“I guess, what were you thinking?” Daddy chuckles again at your words, slightly darker in tone than you’re used to. 
Daddy takes a long cigarette in his hand, seemingly appearing from thin air as he holds it in his hand. He then lights it quickly with a lighter that also seems to appear from thin air. The smoke is pink, a familiar pink that draws you in and makes you dizzy.
“I was thinking,” Daddy pulls his hand across the cigarette, before tilting his hand towards your bare legs. In a quick moment the smoke glows and envelops your legs, tickling up your legs to your crotch where it stops; and before you can even ask what he's doing the smoke disappears, a pair of black fishnet stockings where the smoke once was. “Something like this,” 
You look down, immediately feeling exposed. You’d never wore anything like this before, and with the skirt it feels even more dirty. 
“I-I don't know Daddy, it seems kind of expo-”
Daddy leans down, placing two hands on your shoulders and the others on your waist. You sometimes forget that Daddy has four arms. It's so normal that you forget that you only have two of them. 
“Oh c’mon baby, I’m not raising a prude, am I?” 
You gulp, trying to look away, but Daddy immediately uses one of the hands on your shoulders to tilt your head back to him. Though his eyes are soft. He's just helping you, yeah. He's just trying to make you feel more comfortable. 
“Am I?” He asks again, leaning closer to your small frame. 
“N-No Dad- Daddy.. I'll wear it,” You assure, placing your hand against his fluffy cuff. Daddy hums, not really saying anything nor moving, however. It's odd, he just looks at you, a grin on his features. 
In a flash, Daddy places a long kiss against your forehead, pulling away and uttering “Good girl,” Then he turns around, placing a lower arm around your waist as you both walk to the door. 
For a good moment, you’re both in silence again, going down floors to the studio you are filming in today. You don't mind being in silence with Daddy, especially if he's touching you so softly like he is now. He seems to be thinking about something, probably about the shoot, or about Angel, or Vox. 
And then the silence breaks. 
“You know,” Daddy purrs, voice low and raspy. He moves a languid hand to your hair, tangling his fingers into the mop and tilting your head up. He leans down. “You’re such a good girl for me,” you flush, feeling one of his hands caress the side of your cheek. 
“Th-thank-”
“You could make us so much money if I didn't want you all to myself~” Daddy rasps, pulling his cigarette to his lips and taking a drag, blowing it into your face. You mumble, “Wh-what..?” You feel dizzy, veins on fire and legs weak. 
“Don’t worry your pretty head about it, Mi Amor..” Daddy chuckles beneath his breath, leaning so close you can taste his sweet breath on your own. Closer, closer. You can feel his tongue against your lip. What's happening, you can think straight. That smoke has made you dizzy. 
Why is Daddy so close, why is he about to kiss you? Why is he pushing his tongue into your mouth, why are his lips tightly against your own. Why are you moaning, why is he pulling on your hair. It's like he's sucking the life out of you. You can't get enough. Don't stop. 
His tongue and your own intertwine, a lascivious taboo in the air. He groans deeply, an evil in his voice. How long have you been doing this for? Why haven't the elevator doors opened? What is happening? 
Before you can blink, his lips are away and you are both stepping out of the elevator onto the studio floor like nothing happened. 
“Daddy, what-” 
“What's up, baby?” 
You pause, unsure of yourself even. 
“I-I don't know..” 
“Odd, maybe you should get that checked out,” Daddy laughs. 
Maybe you are just delusional.
_________________
You'd been shooting all day. Every time you look at the clock another hour has passed it seems. Now you'd been shooting for about.. 
13 hours. Straight. 
The sets had changed, the actors had changed, the only thing that doesn't change is Angel dust. He's there, he has the star role in every single shoot. It's odd, really. You don't know why Daddy doesn't try other stars, just Angel. He looks so tired, and you are to. Daddy had gotten you food and drinks whenever you request, but it looks as though he's not treating angel with that same kindness. 
You want to talk to Angel, ask him what's going on, maybe sneak him some food. But you don't. 
You're a coward. 
But you don't want to be. Maybe you can be better. It's not like Daddy will be shooting for much longer. 
“What's this one, Daddy?” You ask, holding an iced coffee Daddy ordered Kitty to get for you after you said you were tired. Really you were hoping if you said you were tired, Daddy would end the shoot and take you home. But instead, of course he gave you a coffee, kisses your forehead, and kept doing the shoot. 
“This scene is Angel doing a bunch of guys because he doesn't have any money to pay for his pizza, part 4,” 
“Part 4?” You question, squinting your eyes. Daddy nods, wrapping an arm around your waist as he takes a sip from your iced coffee. “Well in this part the Pizza man is bringing all his friends to teach angel a lesson.” Daddy utters, looking towards the dressing room where Angel currently is getting ready. The set is already set up, the only thing missing being the actors.
“I don't know..” You say, looking over at the door where Angel is emerging in a sexy pink lingerie set. “Doesn't he look like he's been taught enough lessons?” You ask, gesturing towards the spent looking Angel Dust.
“Oh baby,” Daddy purrs, placing a hand on your fishnet clad thigh. “No such thing as enough lessons, you know this,” You nod, looking over at Angel again as he talks to one of the other actors. 
“I just-” 
“Baby,” 
You look up at Daddy, or rather he makes you as he places a hand on your chin. His eyes are once again glowing a deep pink behind those glasses of his, darkening when they bore into your own. You shiver, the proximity making you dizzy as it did before. 
“Don't question me,” 
You gulp down saliva painfully. 
“Y-yes Daddy, m’ sorry Daddy.” 
“Good girl,” 
____________
The shoot ends up lasting for another 2 hours before you ask Daddy if you can step out for a bit to ‘Get off’. Daddy of course let you do so, which you knew he would. You think he likes the idea of you enjoying his work that much, but you could never be sure. 
What he doesn't know, and what you were anxious to do is that you snuck into Angels dressing room. You want to talk to him, more than anything. You don't know why, you want to know why so badly however. Your plan is to catch him next time he comes in the change his clothes, and you can ask him all the questions on your mind. 
The biggest one is if Daddy is always like this to him, and why he is. Does Daddy hurt Angel? You don't think so, but the idea becomes more possible with every minute. 
Angels dressing room is interesting. There's wigs, clothes, and a nice plush couch that you plan to sit on. Theres pretty pink glows filling the entire room as well, making the room fell rather warm and comfortable.
You make your way towards the couch, marveling in the pretty light pink accents and the cute heart shaped pillow. You wonder why there's a couch, anyway. It's not like you've ever seen Daddy let angel rest, let alone sit down. But you digress, settling for sitting in the corner of the couch with the pillow on your lap. 
And then you look up. 
It's one of Vox’s cameras, looking directly at you. 
What were you thinking? Fuck, why did you even do this? Vox is going to tell Daddy, and Daddy is going to come in and get you so you can't ask Angel any questions! You should have hid, not sat out in the wide open! Your heart is racing, your breath is short. You’re about to pass out. This anxiety, why is it so heavy? Daddy would never hurt you 
“”Don't question me”” 
Fuck. 
Maybe if you hide, Daddy will think Vox is just kidding. Oh what are you saying? Daddy knows you, he’ll know just what you’re doing. 
You look over at the camera once more, before settling your eyes on the door. You’re just going to have to endure the inevitable, you just have to. There's nothing you can do. You've fucked it.
I can only blame myself. 
The door is open in a slam, the mirror next to the window shattering on the impact. It's Daddy he's angry, fuming, furious. He closes the door behind him and locks it faster than you can blink, and you realize he's not wearing his coat anymore. His wings are fluffed in anger, and worst of all it's all directed at you. 
You stand, walking towards him.
“D-Daddy.. I'm so sorry I didn't mean- I'm just-” 
Daddy throws a hand against your neck, pushing you towards the corner next to the couch with a ‘SLAM’. you cry out in pain and fright, dangling from the floor so your eyes are at his level. 
“What makes you think you can just go doing whatever you want?! You think you can be more powerful than me?” Daddy's hand tightens around your neck. Not so tight you can't breath, however.
“No- I,” 
“You’re fucking powerless! You think you can tell me how I treat my employees?! You’re nothing but my idiot daughter who seems to have forgotten her place,” 
“That's not what I was d-doing I was just going-”
Daddy throws you by your neck to the couch, lunging onto you like a predator. 
“You were just going to ask Angel if he was okay? Gonna see if he was having any fun?” Daddy hisses, taking the your hands when they try to push him off and pushing them above your head. 
“News flash, baby. He isn't. And that doesn't fucking matter, that bitch makes me money and that's all I care- I own him. 
“Daddy you cant-” 
“You really think you can help Angel? This is hell, you only care about your family and your friends, nobody else. Especially not fucking whores like him,” 
You sob, tears making your eyes sting. 
“You think you can protect him? Can protect anyone?” 
You shake your head, Daddy’s lower arms holding your thighs down against your body, making it hard for you to move. 
“This isn't right! You c-cant just hurt people-” 
“I can do whatever the fuck I want with him- I own him. Just like I own you..” Daddy growls, stroking a hand against your cheek.
You look at Daddy, confusion in your teary eyes. 
“Wh-what?” 
“I was the one that got you killed, the reason you’re down here. It's all for your own good. You signed the contract, Baby,” 
You flinch when Daddy strengthens his grip on your wrists. 
“The contract? I thought that was so I could live with you- I don't-” 
“Learn how to read contracts, baby,” Daddy growls, moving his hand from your cheek so he can summon the golden contract, holding it above your eyes so you can read it. 
And he's right. 
‘This contact also give Valentino complete ownership of your soul, your body, and your being. Valentino may use you for anything he pleases, no matter what it does to you.’ 
You cry out, tears burning your cheeks as they fall. 
“How could you do this to me, Daddy?! You’re supposed to protect me-” 
“It's so I don't have to share you with any of these fucking assholes in hell, I can have you all to myself. This contract does keep you safe,”
You whine out in pain as Daddy's claws dig into your thighs. 
“I dont-” 
Daddy forces his large hand around your throat again, cutting off your words. 
“I do what I need to get what I want, if I what I want is to own my daughter so she won't ever fuck anyone but me, I'll do it. If I want to beat my employees when they fuck up, I can. And if I want to hold you down against your will and Fuck you into obidence, I will take that fucking virginity and tear it up just like your mother's!!” 
Daddy growls.
“Fuck me? Dad I'm so confused-” 
“That's right, little slut. I was planning on going slow with you on this but I am so fucking done with letting you off the hook. I spend way to much of my fucking money on your pretty ass to not get what I want out of it-” 
“Dad- I thought you-” 
“You thought wrong, little baby. Now lay back and take it like a fucking champ or I'll make you.” 
“No! You can't! Stop-” 
“No one's saving you,” Daddy growls, tearing your panties apart like they are made out of paper. 
“Scream and cry all you like, I will make you understand that this behavior is not fucking getting past me! You will fucking learn!” 
You sob. 
“Y-yes Daddy..” 
“Good.” 
This picture is so different to the Daddy you once knew. All this time, was Daddy just this cruel man? Where had you gone wrong? Why couldn't you just stay silent? This is your fault. He isn't just playing. You thought he was, but this is all to real to be playing. 
“P-please stop..” You whimper, legs shaking as Daddy pries your legs apart to reveal the wetness of your pussy. Daddy chuckles. “Oh baby, we’re far past begging.. you should have thought of that beforr you kept fucking fighting me-” 
Daddy laughs again, pressing a finger against your clit. 
“Now should I be nice to you, give you a little foreplay, or do you wanna keep being a little bitch and I'll just have to fuck you no prep?” 
You cry, sniffling as you shake your head. 
“FINE! No prep it is then! I'll just fucking force my way into that ungrateful cunt!” Daddy growls flipping you around so your ass is in the air and your head is pressed into the couch cushion. 
“You’re so fucking lucky I love you, or you would be torn to fucking shreds.” Daddy places two hands either side of your head, the other fumbling with his belt. You hate that sound as much as you love it. Why do you kind of like this? The anticipation is as awful as it is exciting. There must be something else wrong with you. 
“D-daddy.. please be gentle..” 
“You think you deserve that?” Daddy asks, nibbling your ear as you hear his belt discarded across the room. Next is the zipper. “Be honest, Baby,” 
You cry, “No..” 
“Good girl, stay still for me.” 
Already? Stay still? No. Stop. You want him to stop, you do, you promise. You’ll be good just- 
The whole entire length of Daddy's cock is shoved in you in one go, forcefully and painfully. You see red, you scream, you wail. And he doesn't give you time to adjust either, holding you down by your shoulders and hips as he takes away your virginity. 
Every thrust hurts, every thrust make you scream, but you can't do anything to stop it. 
“Oh baby, you feel so fucking good on my cock- how did I even control myself?” Daddy growls, dragging his pink tongue across your neck. You feel his saliva wetten your skin. 
“Daddy..” 
Daddy’s thrusts speed up, uncaring for your sobs. 
“That virginity of your’s feels so good being broken baby.. if I could breed you I would- oh imagine your swollen belly with all my kids~ sexy..” 
“N-no-” 
“Oh yes baby, just feel my cock.. imagine how many times you could have me plow you baby,” 
“Y-yes Daddy..” 
This whole thing is a mixed bag. What does he want? Does he want you to be his? Because you already are. What does he get out of tearing you down.. 
He gets power over you, and a pretty little cocksleeve, it seems. 
“Baby, you’re such a sexy thing when you're scared, you know that?” Daddy asks, tilting your head so you can see his dark large silhouette over your own. “I just love it when your frightened of me,” 
“Do you like it baby?” 
You are getting Deja Vu, Deja Vu of when this all started. When he held your face and squeezed your thigh. 
“Y-yes Daddy,” 
“Good girl,” he says, just as he did then. 
A clawed finger meets your clit, rubbing it softly in contrast to the ravenous pace he sets in your hole. Yet it feels better and better every second. What was once a white hot pain is now a red hot pleasure. You can stop it. Your daddy is being so evil, so wretched. 
And you don't want it to stop. 
“Baby, what happened to all that crying? Are you enjoying yourself..?” Daddy asks, pulling out for a moment as he forces your body back onto it's back, making him seem even bigger and more scary. 
Daddy forces his cock back into your pussy, you feel it all the way in your stomach. 
“Don't worry baby,” thrust, “Daddy won't judge you,” thrust. You whimper, legs dangling in the air pathetically as Daddy takes control of you. 
“A little..” 
“Perfect,” Daddy growls, forcing his tongue down your throught until you gag. It's like that kiss before, yet more evil, sinister, and the other one was such a blur.
This one is more vivid than the sun. You can feel everything, you can feel his sharp teeth against your own, you can feel his tongue brush against yours, you can feel his large hand grope your breasts, you can taste his pink saliva. 
His cock is so big inside of you, you can't deny, and you think Daddy can tell as well. Because he reaches for your hand, pressing it against your exposed stomach where your sweater rose up; and low and behold, there is a prominent bulge where his cock bullies your cunt. 
“Do you feel that Mi Amor? Do you feel Daddy’s big cock tearing you open?” 
You moan, loudly. 
“Y-yes-” 
Daddy chuckles, leaning down to your neck. He grips your jaw, tilting it. 
White hot pain is all you feel, Daddy’s teeth sink so deeply into your neck you can feel yourself go lightheaded. But you cum. You cum so hard the pain doesn't even hurt. It feels so good, better than anything you’ve ever felt. 
Daddy cums to, dumping a large amount of seed into your needy cunt until you can feel it dripping back out of you again. Daddy chuckles at this, pulling his teeth from your neck so blood begins to drip from the wound. 
“So much cum, baby. No one has ever made me cum that hard..” 
You nod, dazed. 
“I sent everyone home, baby, so don't worry about everyone seeing your powerless little body after it got pounded, got me?” 
You look up at Vox’s camera. 
“Y-yes Daddy.” 
You’ve never felt more lost. 
But at least you have Valentino, right? 
Right? 
--------
Part 3???
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lev1hei1chou · 4 hours
Text
Caught
Dad!Gojo x reader Genre: Fluff Words: 551 Synopsis: Gojo lies about his location Masterlist
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The latest mission had been really intense, adrenaline-fueled, and downright exhausting. But for you, the thought of finally getting home to your little family kept you going. With a quick check-in, you called Satoru, hoping to hear the comforting sound of your husband's voice and perhaps a few adorable ramblings from your little child.
"Hey, babe, how's it going?" you greeted Gojo over the phone, hoping to hear the familiar warmth in his voice.
"Hey there baby, everything's good here. Just putting C/N to bed," Gojo replied casually.
Relief washed over you. "Oh, that's great! I miss you guys so much. I can't wait to get home."
"Yeah, we miss you too," Gojo said, his voice slightly distracted.
You frowned. "Are you sure everything's okay? You sound a bit off."
"No, love, everything's fine. We're just here, at home, all rolled up and cozy in bed," Gojo reassured, his tone a tad too chipper.
"Well alright then! I'll see you guys soon. Love you."
Something didn't add up. You glanced at the map on your phone, which showed Gojo's location tagged in a cafeteria nearby. Suspicion crept in, and you decided to investigate.
As you entered the cafeteria, you spotted Gojo sitting at a table, chatting away with someone you couldn't see from your position, far from the cozy confines of home as he claimed. Confused, you dialed Gojo's number again.
"Hey, Satoru, where are you?" you asked, trying to keep your voice steady.
"At home, of course," he replied without missing a beat.
You narrowed your eyes, your gaze fixed on Gojo. "Really? Because it looks like you're in a cafeteria."
Gojo's eyes widened in surprise, but he quickly regained his composure. "Uh what are you talking about? Must be a glitch in the GPS or something. Definitely home, just enjoying some quality time with our little one."
You sighed, not buying Gojo's flimsy excuse for a second. Determined to catch him red-handed, you made your way quietly behind him. As you stood behind your husband, your child caught sight of you and froze, their eyes widening in panic.
Gojo continued chatting, unaware of your presence behind him. "You know, your mom can be so strict sometimes. Always making sure everything's in order, no room for fun."
You couldn't help but roll their eyes at Gojo's comment. But before you could confront him, your child subtly signaled towards your direction, prompting your husband to turn around.
The moment Gojo laid eyes on you, his expression morphed from nonchalant to downright mushy. "Well, look who's here! Isn't it my favorite person in the world?"
"Gojo Satoru, what are you doing here?" you asked, trying to feign seriousness, but couldn't fight the urge to smile at his sudden change in demeanor.
Gojo grinned sheepishly. "Okay, fine, you caught me. We may have wanted a little break from bedtime duty."
"And you thought hanging out in a cafeteria was the best way to do that?" you raised an eyebrow incredulously.
"Well, when you put it like that..." Gojo trailed off, scratching the back of his head. "But hey, since you're here, why don't you join us? We were just about to grab some snacks."
You couldn't help but laugh at Gojo's antics. "Fine, but only because I missed you guys too much."
109 notes · View notes
notmyneighbor · 9 hours
Text
Let Me in ~ Doppelgänger Francis Mosses/The Milkman x Female Reader
Chapter 3
Word Count ~ 2.5k
Rating ~ Explicit
CW ~ blood and gore, body horror, character death, minor violence, dubious consent, sexual content
Also available on AO3
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You sit on the side of the bed that had once belonged to Francis Mosses.
The comforter and top sheet have already been pulled down. You lean over to slide out of your low heeled pumps, tucking the pair of navy leather shoes neatly under the bed.
There’s a bible on the nightstand. A worn looking copy. Beside it a glass with a shallow amount of water resting in the bottom, the remnant of a late night attempt to quench thirst, perhaps.
The doppelgänger watches your movements. How methodical each action is. Slow and deliberate. You’re stalling.
He settles beside you and the mattress creaks as the springs are compressed. That odd sort of shimmer you’d noticed earlier outside the security booth outlines his frame for a brief moment. A surge of light and color as the skin ripples before settling. They still weren’t completely able to disguise what they were. All hope was not lost.
Your own fate, however, seems sealed. You lie down slowly, carefully. You feel as if you are laying yourself to rest in your own coffin. Turning your face ever so slightly to see if there is any trace of the man that had once slept here, some lingering scent or an indent from his face. Nothing but the fragrance of clean linen. The imposter moves as if to join you but you halt him, your fingers closing over his forearm. Your first time touching him and not the other way around. “Take your shoes off.”
The creature snickers, glancing down at the scuffed oxfords he’s wearing. Overdue for a shine. “What possible difference does that make?”
“It’s respectful. You never put your shoes where someone sleeps.”
“He won’t be sleeping here ever again.”
You inhale sharply, wincing. “Please just do it.” You can’t say why you’re so hung up on this. Only that it seems the right thing to do. A small thing in a sea of wrongs that you’re clinging to like a life preserver.
“Fine.” He acquiesces, bending to unlace them. There is no care in his actions. Just brisk, impatient pulls to undo the knotted ties. Then he is lying beside you. Your heads sharing the same pillow. Francis only used a single one, apparently. Preferring to slumber lying with his head and neck rather flat. You always used two fluffy pillows, minimum.
You can hear the sound of music starting to play, emanating from the resident’s apartment next door.
Mia Stone, perhaps. The blonde teacher who was Dr. Afton’s fiancée. You instantly recognize the musical artist crooning through the walls: Billie Holiday.
I say I'll move the mountains
And I'll move the mountains
If he wants them out of the way
You would have loved to play this record for Francis. You envision trying to dance in the cramped space of the living room, twirling around in his arms. “Did he really like my fragrance?” You know the creature could lie, of course. He’d say anything to manipulate you and get what he wanted. But you have to ask. Your heart won’t let you avoid the query.
The dark eyes of the pretender regard you. You detect no malice or dishonesty there. “Yes,” he says simply.
You close your eyes, sighing. “What else did he like about me?”
“Your smile, gifted once you were certain it was really him. The way you covered your mouth when you laugh, making some little relieved joke when you passed his identification and entry request back to him each day. The strands of hair that came loose around your face as the day wore on into late afternoon when he returned from his route. The—”
“—Stop. Please.” Tears well in your eyes. They didn’t sound like the kind of details the deceiver would create on his own. There was a note of truth to them. Genuine recollections. He truly was all that remained of Francis Mosses. A man that had been fond of you. You could have been with him, if only you’d been a little braver.
“You asked me to tell you.”
“I know. It’s just overwhelming.”
Like the wind that shakes the bough
He moves me with a smile
“Your kind is so fond of music. Your milkman was always humming. I don’t see the use for it.”
The your wrenches your heart. He wasn’t yours. Never would be. “It’s a way to expression emotions. When words alone aren’t enough.”
“Hmmm.” He reaches out and you flinch. “Why are you fighting this so hard? This is what you wanted.”
“I didn’t want Francis to die.” You pause, swallowing past the lump in your throat. “Why do you want this?”
”Curiosity. An experiment of sorts. There has never been a union between our kind. Not of this nature. A desire to know what it feels like. To see what might result.”
You shudder. An experiment. Using you like some kind of animal for breeding. A mere whim.
He reaches again and this time you force yourself to hold steady, your chin lifting with a short jerk of defiance. Your hair is his goal. Tucking it back behind one ear. Maybe something the milkman had wanted to do. There’s a sudden softness in the doppelgänger’s eyes. As if the human he’d once been was peeking through at you. You find yourself melting again, your defenses coming down.
I say I'll care forever
And I mean forever
He moves closer to you. Inching over across the white fitted sheet. A thumb strokes away one of the tears that has escaped its prison. He captures the other from the opposite cheek, bringing it to his lips, his tongue darting out to taste the droplet. “Salt,” he says, recognizing the mineral.
He kisses you.
You’re not sure if it’s better to think of the man you had loved or not. Was it dishonoring his memory or was it a way to keep him present in some vague capacity? There’s no clumsiness this time. He knows the feel of your mouth. The way to shift against you. Tongue mapping past smooth cheeks and dragging along the carpet of muscle at the base of that maw. Maybe it was better to pretend this was Francis after all. You cup the back of his neck, fingers teasing the edges of his milk chocolate tresses. Curling slightly on the ends. It would be time for a trim soon. Would have been. The illusion you’ve created is crumbling again. Your lips falter, your hand dropping away.
Crazy he calls me
Sure, I'm crazy
Crazy in love am I
“Sweetheart,” the invader murmurs, tasting along your jaw, your neck. “I like the way you smell.” Speaking for himself, not Francis. You hear the sharp intake of air. The hand that had been casually laid across your shoulder slides down until it reaches your breast, gently kneading that globe through the layers of your bra and blouse. “Does this feel good?” His voice is octaves lower than you’d ever heard from the milkman. Slightly raspy and sultry, not unlike the singing voice that permeates through the wood and plaster behind the bed. You don’t dare answer, merely whimpering a little and he seems to take this as an affirmative response.
His hand leaves your breast and finds the top button of your shirt. Always sensible, pure white, part of the uniform standard the company requires. Another threaded plastic disc is pushed through the hole. He works his way down until all those that are exposed have surrendered, the remainder still tucked within your skirt. His fingers part the edges of the fabric encasing your torso, peeling them back to reveal the white satin brassiere beneath. He caresses you briefly through this slick material before tucking inside the cup until he brushes across your areola. Your nipple peaks beneath his ministrations as his lips move back to yours. He is surprisingly gentle, lightly pinching and rolling the aroused tissue. Your body betrays you, responding to the creature’s touch. You should be ashamed, disgusted. Instead you find yourself wanting more.
“Off,” he murmurs impatiently, plucking at your bra before his hand departs your chest. You struggle to sit up and he allows it, watching you pull your blouse free from your skirt and unfastening the cuffs before sliding it off your arms. With a swift gesture borne of long practice you easily pinch and release the hook and eye closures resting along the center of your spine, the cups immediately folding down over the underwire, the straps drooping over your shoulders.
The doppelgänger assists you now, sliding the brassiere off the rest of the way, exposing your chest to him. Your cheeks are pink, flushed like the nipples he’s toying with again, his head bending to suckle at one and a lick of flame sears your core. This is part of the invasive species’ learning process, you think. Taste as important as touch. His mouth moving not with the sole purpose of your pleasure in mind, but as a means to explore flavors and textures. Cataloguing. More of humanity’s secrets unveiled.
There is a song you don’t recognize playing next door now. Muffled voices. You’d had no idea the walls were so thin. Francis had never complained.
You’re shoved back down onto the pillow. His mouth wanders, back up to sample a collar bone, the hollow at the base of your throat, then dips in between your breasts and tastes the skin of your abdomen. You wonder if he can detect the floral soap you’d bathed with that morning, the traces of lotion you’d applied during your hygiene routine.
“I like this,” he says, his breath warm on your body. “You’re so soft. Smooth. Not like…I’ve never taken…” It had often been debated if there were sexes in their species. How they propagated. There was still so much unknown. Was there a reason he’d only chosen men to replicate? Was it simply because he was male himself? You could not explain how you knew it, but there was something distinctly masculine about him. Authoritative. Blunter than a woman would be. A lifetime of being raised to respect decorum had been firmly ingrained in you. Society valuing a woman who knows her place. Taught to be demure, deferring to the wisdom and guidance of their male counterparts. Serving and obeying, like you’re doing now.
The imposter returns his attention to your face. Licking your mouth back open. He likes this, you think. All of what you’d shared thus far, but perhaps the kissing best of all.
The background melody silences and you think you detect the front door opening and closing. You wonder if the couple will be going out to an early dinner. Curious when they find there is no one guarding the building. But not alarmed. Not yet.
Your skirt is being lifted, polyester dragged upward after the copycat’s hasty reach downward to gather the hem. Immediately sliding back down, stroking over your exposed thighs that are clad in nylons that stop midway across each of your upper legs. Nothing fancy, just utilitarian features in a shade of nude slightly more tanned than your own complexion. He nudges against the seal you’ve created by pressing your legs close together. “Let me in, sweet girl.” An echo of what he’d said earlier in an attempt to gain access to the building, now seeking entry into you. You feel your limbs parting for him nearly as promptly as you’d opened the door.
The pretender works his way back up to the fork of your body, teasing along the crotch of the white panties. You gasp and he smiles against your lips. His palm drags over the fabric until his fingers find the elastic waistband and he dips beneath it, running overly the neatly trimmed hair on your pubic mound, following the curve of that padded flesh until your sex is palpated.
Another gasp and a moan escapes you. “So wet,” he remarks, fondling the pink lips, parting the petals with his middle finger to slide through the slick arousal your body is creating, working the lubricant up and down, passing over the hooded nub and then delving back towards your entrance, where more fluid escapes.
It feels good and yet it doesn’t, his fingers too rough and just shy of where you need him. You squirm and wince at the harsh handling of your clitoris and he pauses, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. “Show me. Show me how you like to be touched.”
You reach down cautiously, guiding his fingers to one side of your sensitive bud, lightly pressing and rolling a fingertip so that your clit is ground slightly against the bone beneath. Alternating now, reaching back down to gather more of your slick before spreading it over that hooded button, a few direct strokes applied before beginning the process again. He replicates your actions and your body responds immediately, a hum of pleasure heating you. You close your eyes and you think of the milkman, the real one, with his kind smile and his tired eyes.
“Francis.” The name escapes your lips and you freeze, the rocking motion of your hips against the imposter’s hand abruptly ceasing. You hadn’t meant to say it out loud. Alarmed by how easily you’d allowed yourself to give in to the desire, accommodating this make believe passion.
“It’s alright, love. It’s me. I’m here.” His tongue laps at your ear, at the sensitive patch of skin behind it. You shiver and resume grinding against his fingers, letting yourself be deluded once more, your hand curling over his forearm.
“Francis,” you say again, hoping he can forgive you, in whatever form he now occupies, if he is saved as his faith professes he would be, finding redemption and peace, somewhere far from your sinning body that writhes in pleasure from his murderer’s touch.
You push against his hand and he allows it, applying force against the hollow cavity that leads to your womb. “Let me in,” he breathes, and you feel a finger invading your body, shoving through the narrow confines of that muscular tunnel. Withdrawing and spearing again, the digit saturated with your arousal. You moan and lift your pelvis to meet him. Curling inside, massaging that dip of spongy tissue. Crooking each time he enters as if he is leading you forward, beckoning, his thumb drawing circles over your clit. You feel as if you’re on the edge of a chasm, teetering on the rim, about to drop forward into heat and darkness. Keening now. Thighs tremoring violently. Your face turns and your teeth sink into the pillow. “There you go, love. Give it to me. Give in to me.”
The coiling pressure within you snaps and you find release at last, the fabric clenched in your teeth doing little to muffle the sound of your orgasm. You’re drenched in sweat, the aftershocks of your appeased nerves still sizzling through you. The doppelgänger cradles you through all of it, holding you as you ride the waves that exhaust your limbs, making you feel boneless and limp.
“Francis.” It’s a yearning plea, a futile prayer, answered by the thing that is not him, but masquerades as such, crooning to you, whispering false promises, draping you in synthetic affection, a lie you want so desperately to believe.
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declareqenius · 18 hours
Text
all the ashes in my wake
summary: part two of "some would sing and some would scream". wanda and natasha have several heated conversations while they wait for you to wake up. it's been days and both of them miss hearing your voice, and they know the last thing you would want to see is them fighting, but wanda can't help tearing into natasha for everything that happened. natasha's guilt eats away at her.
warnings: mentions of the violence in pt 1, coma
a/n: guys i really just wanted to get this one out. i haven't read through it/edited it so any mistakes are... well, mistakes. but hey! we get wanda in this one! i feel like i could have gone a little darker as far as wandanat are concerned, but we do what we can! i hope you enjoy!
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The infirmary room is cold and sterile and a heaviness settles over the exhausted woman. Wanda keeps hold of your hand as if letting it go means that you'll slip away for good. She's careful of the IV stuck in the back of your hand giving you fluids. In a way, it serves as a reminder that blood still flows through your veins and your heart still beats, and that even though your bright smile and musical laugh don't fill the room, you're still alive.
Wanda brushes a stray strand of hair behind your ear. She doesn't know how many times she has done that in the past three days, but the gesture comforts her. Tucking your hair behind your ear so she can see your beautiful face better and looking into your sparkling eyes is one of her favorite things to do. Your gaze holds so much love and adoration and it always makes her wish she would never have to live without it.
Your eyes are closed now.
Wanda hates every second of it.
Bruce said that even if you don't respond that you can still hear everything. Wanda trusts that he's telling the truth and it wasn't something he said just to make her feel better.
So she talks to you. About anything and everything she can think of. Your favorite TV show that is on the air right now or the book that you recommended and she finally read. How much she loves you and how she can't wait for you to wake up. How sorry she is that she wasn't there sooner. She makes promises that she intends to uphold. Ones about revenge and torture and everything you would hate and tell her not to worry about were you conscious. Wanda smiles at the thought. She won't listen, though. The Celestials hurt her family. Hurt the love of her life. She can't let that go unanswered for.
Right now, though, you are her priority.
The door handle clicks and Wanda doesn't need to look up. She knows it's Natasha coming back from telling Steve and Yelena what happened. Can feel the exhaustion and guilt dripping from her without having to so much as glance in her direction.
"Wands-"
"I don't want to talk to you right now, Natalia. Sit."
Wanda nods to the unoccupied chair on the other side of the bed without taking her eyes off of you. She's being harsh and she knows it. Natasha was there with you. Right by your side. Made to watch as the leader of their enemies hurt you in the most sloppily calculated way. She was powerless against Najma and Wanda knows this, but all rationality left her when she burst into the cell and laid eyes on your bleeding body, slumped over, barely an ounce of life in you, and her anger nearly consumed her.
She almost leveled the entire block.
The only thing that stopped her was Natasha, carrying you in her arms, reminding her that time was scarce.
So yes, perhaps she is being too harsh with her wife, but somehow you had become their entire lives. Their reason for being. Neither of them would know what to do without you, and they came very close to losing you under Natasha's watch.
They will be okay eventually. They survived many fights and many arguments before you came along.
Tears form in Wanda's eyes.
"Yelena is wondering when she'll be able to see Y/N." Natasha's voice breaks the silence. It's rough and scratchy.
"After she wakes up."
Four words and Wanda can feel how they form on her tongue. Her Sokovian accent is thick with her anger and distress despite the words being spoken soft and firm.
"Wanda," Natasha starts to protest but the finality in her wife's tone makes her go quite.
"Nat."
It's then that Wanda decides to look up at Natasha. Decides to let her wife see her and every emotion that makes its way onto her face and every thought that swirls around in her mind.
Natasha pauses for a moment, taken aback by everything she sees her wife going through. The made-up scenarios. The what-ifs. She knows because she went through every last one of them when she was in that cell with you. To see the same thoughts cluttering Wanda's mind, well, it only makes her guilt worse.
She clears her throat, "Yelena is her best friend."
It comes out as more of a fact than an argument.
At that, Wanda turns her attention back to you, "I don't want anyone except for us and Bruce to see her like this. They don't need to."
"They want to know that she's okay, Wands."
"Tell them that she is. That she will be. That's all they need to know for right now. They need to focus on getting the jump on Najma and the Celestials. Our focus is Y/N. I think our family is capable enough to come up with a plan by themselves, don't you?"
Wanda's calmness is starting to make Natasha uncomfortable and she shifts in her chair. She refuses to touch you, though, afraid of what might happen if she did. Would your body crumble under her fingertips? If you were conscious would your body recoil at her touch? For letting you get hurt. For not protecting you like she should have.
Suddenly streams of tears silently make their way down Natasha's cheeks.
"I'm sorry I let this happen."
Wanda's eyes meet hers again and Natasha feels like she can breathe a little easier. It isn't perfect and she guesses it won't be perfect for a long time, but time will help. The fear will linger within both of them because Natasha knows Wanda almost as well as she knows herself, and she knows that neither of them will be letting you out of their sight for a while after you wake up. Until Najma is taken care of, at least.
Wanda tilts her head as she tries to get a better read on Natasha without using her powers. Even if they would help in the moment she has rules for herself: never on Natasha and never on you.
"They caught you off guard. It is a hard position to be in, radnaja."
Darling. The pet name helps Natasha relax a little more, but her hands stay folded in her lap.
"We needed- I needed to protect her better. We promised to keep her safe and I couldn't do that, Wands. I failed her and I disappointed you and... and what if she decides to leave when she wakes up? I would be the reason we came so close to losing her... and then to actually lose her? I don't know if we could survive it."
"Nat... Y/N loves us with everything she is. Just as we love her. I need you to be confident in that."
Natasha wants to scoff but instead she fidgets with her hands, "Confident? In what, Wanda? That she'll wake up and we'll pretend everything is fine and that we're not the reason she almost fucking died?! That the two people she loves most in the world couldn't protect her like they promised they would? I was powerless Wanda! I couldn't stop them! I-" Natasha's tears flow freely and although the tension in the room is building, she feels safe enough to let herself go in the presence of her wife, "I couldn't save her!"
"Natalia Romanova-Maximoff!" Wanda stands for the first time in hours but she does not drop your hand. It's the only thing grounding her right now. "This is not entirely your fault, radnaja. Maybe if you would have kicked and punched more when they took you then we would be in a different position. Maybe if you had given Najma the answers she was looking for then Y/N wouldn't have been injured as badly as she is but these are all what-ifs, Natasha! What if I had been there with her instead? What if I had been with both of you that night? What if I would have gotten to you sooner? What if she had died!"
Finally, the question that has been on both of their minds since Bruce had walked into the meeting room with your blood all over his neatly ironed button up and jeans- he didn't have time to even think about putting his lab coat on- and told them that you would eventually be okay.
"I have been asking myself that question every day for the past three days," Wanda finishes, salt on her tongue, nose red, and her scarlet hoodie stained with tears.
Natasha cannot find it within herself to tell her wife the new information Bruce gave her in the meeting. While he operated and stitched until he could barely stand any longer; you flatlined once. Your heart decided to give up for a minute and Natasha hasn't had the proper amount of time to process something like that, but the time would never come for Wanda to be able to process the reality of such a thing.
Both women stare down at you with puffy eyes and red noses. You are the most precious thing in the world to them. They hate seeing you so lifeless, and the only wave of hope keeping them afloat is your steady breaths.
The fight has left both of them, but an air of tension remains. They are nowhere near finished with their conversation. With taking their frustrations out. Hopefully they'll have everything figured out before you wake up. Natasha knows how much you hate playing peacemaker when they actually have fights and really get going at each other, but she also knows that her wife can hold a grudge.
She doesn't think Wanda will actually hold a grudge after you wake up, but for now her anger and grief towards Natasha are the only things emotionally anchoring her to reality.
"I miss her, Wands," Natasha sniffs and wipes the tears from her cheeks with the back of her hand.
"Me too, Natalia. Me too."
They sit in silence for a minute, taking everything in. There are no windows in the room and during the day that means zero sunlight. You always say that time in the sun is one of the most important parts of your daily routine, and it always helps you cool down when you're stressed out or in a bad mood.
Natasha is the first to break the silence, speaking directly to you.
"You are going to hate this room so much when you wake up, detka," she muses with the smallest smile.
Wanda only glances at her before turning her attention back to you and sitting down in her chair, trapped in her mind just as Natasha is, but not all hope is lost and for that, the older woman is grateful.
"Believe it or not, she was the calm one. During everything."
"Natasha."
Her name is said softly although there is still a warning behind it, but she needs this and she believes that Wanda does too. Even if she doesn't know it yet.
"Please, Wanda."
Wanda just sighs and nods, never taking her eyes off of you.
"Najma had me struggling within ten minutes. Begged her to take me instead and to let Y/N go. I don't know why I thought it would work, but I think I just wanted Y/N to know that even if I couldn't get us out of there in that moment... I was trying. I would keep trying."
Natasha's voice is still scratchy as her exhaustion slowly catches up with her.
"Y/N was so firm with me. She said not to tell Najma anything and she meant it. I don't think I've ever heard her be that direct before, but she left no room for argument. She knew what the information would do to the family because she... she sees us as her family, Wands." The redhead sniffs and wipes at her eyes when her tears return, making a prominent trail down her cheeks.
"We are all she has left and she means the world to us! And... and I let her down so much. So, so much, Wanda. She stayed so calm! She did so good! She talked to Najma. She had a conversation with the woman who had a knife to her cheek!" Natasha's laugh is reserved, but her features are shock-ridden and amazed, bordering on flabbergasted and anxiety-filled.
Wanda finally looks up at her wife. Natasha is starting to spiral and there is no way to stop it other than just letting her get it all out, so the Sokovian keeps listening to and watching her wife. The recount of events is told with animated hand gestures and tears gliding down Natasha's cheeks, and Wanda's heart clenches.
"We were doing so well. She was doing so well. Then, Najma stabbed her and my heart dropped. I thought it was over. I thought we had lost her for good." The hand gestures come to an abrupt halt and the tension in the room is once again palpable, but not so much as before.
Natasha looks down at you with pleading eyes, "Please forgive me, malyshka," she drops to both knees and finally takes your hand in hers and whispers, "please."
She kisses the back of your hand delicately and you can feel each tear drop as they land in the exact spot she kissed. There is no need to wonder why your girlfriend is crying. You remember everything.
Your eyes slowly blink open to see Natasha's own eyes closed and Wanda staring at her wife with a thoughtful expression. The love they have for each other makes you want to smile, but the urge to reassure your sobbing mob boss girlfriend wins.
"I..." talking hurts but you need to say the words. Natasha needs to know! "Forgive... you. Always... Natty."
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cacoetheswriting · 2 days
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celebrity skin. (part eight)
pairing: rockstar!eddie munson x popstar!fem!reader word count: 5.2k summary: a reconciliation in New York leads to a rediscovery of not-so-hidden feelings and answers to previously avoided questions — plus more.
content warnings: 18+, minors dni: suggestive & mature themes, adult language, post-breakup emotional hurt / comfort, use of pet names, mentions of alcohol consumption, mentions of blackmail, & kinda rough smut (unprotected p in v sex) — if i missed anything in this chapter, pls let me know!
& psa: images used in the header don’t depict readers physical attributes! these are also described vaguely in the story, only that she’s a little shorter than eddie.
celebrity skin. masterlist
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One thing Eddie had been absolutely sure of: Stevie Nicks was right.
The trip to New York City was carried out solely on a whim. A gut feeling that the brunette rockstar could not quite shake. He had to see you, despite the possible consequences, and Eddie was smart enough to know there would be a lot. He acted like an ass and whether you would admit it or not, he knew he broke your heart.
Ever since his rise to fame, the Corroded Coffin frontman felt this bubble around him. A bubble created by his team, his band, his past, and his own disruptive behaviour — don’t do drugs was a warning he witnessed (and ignored) many times on posters too colourful for the subject matter, plastered on the walls of Hawkins High. Seemingly, the bubble protected Eddie from predators. Leeches that wanted to take advantage of his fame. Unfortunately, the bubble also shielded him from love.
Love. 
If the rockstar wasn’t so afraid of the feeling as a result of that bubble, perhaps he would have made different choices in all of his past relationships. Most importantly, perhaps Eddie would have made different choices in the one relationship that’s meant more to him than any other. If he wasn’t so afraid of love, and being in love, perhaps he would’ve fought to be with you a little harder.
And love is definitely how Eddie would describe what he felt towards you. Correction. Feels towards you to this very day. Maybe more, if that was possible considering he hasn’t seen you in months. 
So yes, Stevie Nicks was right. The concept of Silver Springs was right.
Seeing you again only affirmed that belief. Talking to you again, witnessing your smile for the first time in months… Well, Eddie never wanted to be apart from you for longer than he already had been. Unfortunately, that wasn’t up to him. Not for as long as your grandmother had her claw all up in your business and stuck her nose where it did not belong.
“So, what happens now?” The rockstar asks, only slightly afraid of the answer.
You hum under your breath, taking a moment to think, gathering your own thoughts. The sun is slowly rising in the distance, so the first response that comes to mind is that you should go home, and Eddie should go back to his hotel, Max’s place, or wherever the hell he’s been staying, before this place starts crawling with people. That would mean saying goodbye for lord knows how long and you were just starting to get comfortable with being around the rockstar again, although, not like that was insanely hard. Whatever. Simply, you didn’t want to say goodbye.
“We could go get breakfast,” you finally say.
Eddie smirks. “As much as like that idea, sweetheart, I didn’t really mean now in the full sense of the word.”
You laugh softly.
“Okay, hotshot.” Turning your head back to look at Eddie, you raise a brow. “What do you think should happen?”
The rockstar smacks his lips together before resting his elbow on one of his knees and bringing his thumb to his mouth. A nervous tick.
“Putting whatever reason I came here for aside, starting over seems like a bad idea since we’ve done that once before and it didn’t really end the way either of us hoped,” he says after a beat of silence, avoiding your gaze.
“Yeah,” you exhale, “Bad idea. Plus you said so yourself, you’re not the relationship type. Getting back together would be redundant.”
“Right,” Eddie agrees quietly, although he really doesn’t want to.
There’s another moment of silence. Nothing but the sound of morning birds chirping melodically and wind gust hitting the water ahead. In the quiet, there is solace. In the quiet, Eddie doesn't have to answer difficult questions or have conversations neither of you really wants to have. A blissful ignorance of what’s really happening here.
He still loves you. You most likely still love him.
It’s all just terrible timing for two people who are — in his mind, at least — made for eachother, but for one reason or the other, can’t be together. Not in this lifetime. Not with people controlling what they can or cannot do. Not with the whole world watching their every move. It hurt. Hurt that a life you both chose was also the life that’s actively destroying something good.
“We could try being friends?” Eddie offers eventually, looking at you then.
You smile. “Friends. I think I like that.”
-
Holly is the only person you’re fully comfortable talking to about all of this. She listens, actively nodding along as you spew your thoughts and feelings out loud, until the rambles become too hard to follow. Holly, ever the best friend that she’s always been, places her perfectly manicured hands on your shoulders and gives your body one shake to get you back on track when the story becomes a little too convoluted. And this one is all over the place.
There’s the run in at Saks, the meeting with Max, the plan, the date with Steve, all that leads to Eddie Munson banging on your front door until you let him inside. There’s the emotionally heightened conversation that doesn’t really amount to much. The dinner with your family that opened things up to questions from your nosh sisters and scrutiny from your Nana. Then there was Coney Island.
You pause.
It’s messy, for sure, and your feelings are all over the place as you recount each and every minor detail, which leads you to why you invited her over in the first place: what the fuck do you do about Eddie Munson?
Holly usually gives you advice. Parts of which you want to hear and take on board, parts of which you both know will be ignored. This time however, as you do your best to explain what’s been on your mind — and heart — since the rockstar arrived in New York, this time Holly doesn’t know what to say.
“I don’t know if I should forgive him.”
“Jeff says he’s been, like, super sullen all summer long. Locked in that house of his, or at the studio, working on shit he won’t let the band see.”
“That’s supposed to make it easier for me to do what, exactly? He’s secretive, that’s for sure. Hiding stuff from his band, from his sister, from me…”
You reach for the packet of smokes that Holly brought with her and light one, hand shaking ever so slightly.
“I got virtually nothing from him that night in my apartment. Slightly more under the Wonder Wheel, but still not enough to understand why he did what he did,” you exhale a puff of smoke, “Yet I can’t help but think that despite everything, especially ignoring the weeks I spent in bed because of him, we’re like meant for each other, you know?” 
Holly too lights a cigarette. She also doesn’t answer you.
“That’s kinda pathetic, no?”
“I think until you get the entire truth, it won’t matter whether you get back with him or just be his friend, or whatever, ‘cause you’re not going to be fully happy. Not really,” she explains, avoiding your question because there’s close to nothing worse than admitting to your friend that they’ve lost it completely.
“So I should confront him?”
“Jeff says Eddie doesn’t do well with confrontations.”
You groan. Head falling back on the cushioned sofa.
“Maybe I should just fuck him,” you think out loud, “Get all this frustration out and then just move on with my life.”
Holly laughs. “Just don’t let him finish,” she says, “Karma’s a bitch, and whatnot.”
-
New York City is your favourite place on Earth.
Despite your years of extensive travel to tour your various albums or attend different global award shows, New York, your home, has always been top of the list. Elegant, albeit slightly messy. Organised, although a little rowdy. It’s colourful, but dull. Full of people from every corner of the world, which only added to its pre-existing charm. You didn’t really think it was possible to fall in love with it even more until you’ve started to explore it all over again with none other than Eddie Munson — under a new guise of something called friendship.
The rockstar decided to extend his trip. Currently, there is no return date. Exploring New York became the only thing on his agenda. 
The two of you did your best to stay under the radar, away from prying eyes. Although, not like it was necessarily needed as Eddie’s idea of sight seeing involved bar hopping. Old-ish, rather shitty places that have definitely seen better days, but Eddie, he was like a kid in a candy store. With every beer poured and every bowl of peanuts shared, he lit up more and more.
“They remind me of home,” he finally explains, two days into your NYC adventure. “Of Hawkins.” 
You smile at him, but don’t say anything.
“What?” Eddie asks when he notices the look, mouth now full after taking another handful of the perhaps hundredth packet of peanuts the two of you have shared over the last few days.
“I don’t know,” you shrug, swirling the gold-ish liquid inside your beer bottle, “I guess it’s just nice that some small part of my home reminds you of your home.”
Eddie returns the fond expression. Friends is good, he thinks at that moment while catching another peanut with his mouth, not ideal, but good.
“There was this bar,” he says, leaning across the table so that he could be a little closer to you, “The Hideout. Our first venue, outside of Gareth’s garage, and the only place in my crappy hometown where I didn’t feel like an outsider.”
“Places like the Hideout, places like this.” Eddie swirls his finger in the air to show he means your current location, “They’ll always have a special place in my heart, I guess. They’re a part of me. Part of Corroded Coffin history.”
He stares at you for a minute. He’d never share this much with a friend, so perhaps this new concept you’ve both found yourselves in is not as good as the rockstar would like to think. “We could try being friends?” — Eddie’s second guessing his suggestion just as fast as he came up with it.
“We should see more of your home,” he finally states, “As much as I love them, I think we’ve seen all the dingy bars New York has to offer, so I’m open to suggestions.”
You bring the beer bottle to your lips and take a slow sip of the now semi-warm liquid, pondering his request. 
Where could you take Eddie that would represent your love for New York. The Statue of Liberty seems a little basic, as does Times Square — especially since you’ve both performed there in the past. Rockefeller Centre to see the street performers? The Met, even though both of you will most likely be invited next year to the exhibit. In reality, all of the touristy spots like Central Park, for example, would be a little too crowded for either of you to feel safe and remain unseen. 
Then your eyes glisten with an idea.
What’s more homey than a home itself: Cove City Sound Studios.
To any average person, it was just another recording studio found in New York. One of hundreds. To you however, it was heaven on earth. 
Located in Glen Cove, New York, Cove City Sound Studios had been home to many artists before you came along. A lot of albums were recorded here. A lot of number one hits — the list of which you were lucky to join more than once.
You always thought the ambiance of this place fueled your creativity. Often said the reason behind your resounding success was because you got the opportunity to record here. Of course Holly, Val, and especially your Nana, corrected you every time those words had left your lips. “You’re the reason behind your success,” your Nana would affirm, “Not some recording studio.”.
But you knew. Felt it deep within your bones. Cove City Sound Studios was magic.
“Damn,” Eddie mutters under his breath, fingers gently running across the various buttons as his doe-eyes dart across the posters on the wall — one of which features your 1985 album cover (a record once hidden under Eddie’s bed back in Hawkins). 
“Here I thought the place we recorded Honesty in was impressive,” he admits, “This though, this is another level.”
A smile circles your lips.
“Welcome to my home, Eddie Munson.”
The rockstar dips his head, sort of in a way of a little bow, and smiles so wide it makes your insides flutter. Friends, friends, friends. You repeat inside your mind, same thing Eddie is doing, although neither of you are aware. Friends hiding their true feelings.
“I’m honoured, sweetheart.” Eddie adds, placing a ring-clad hand on his heart.
“As you should be,” you tease and walk past him, pushing open a door into the vocal booth. 
The Corroded Coffin frontman follows you with zero to no hesitation. He watches as you slowly circle the small room before standing in front of a microphone, adjusting it to your height.
“I recorded every single one of my songs here apart from Honesty,” you reveal without looking at him. Focusing instead on tightening the metal rod in place. “Hundreds of records that will probably never see the light of day because my label doesn’t think they are good enough.”
Eddie snorts. “As if you could make something that wasn’t deemed good. We wrote shit together, remember? I know how good you are.”
Your lips twist into a timid smile and glance up at him from your lashes. “I appreciate that Eds, but unfortunately the industry doesn’t work that way and you, of all people, should understand.”
“Well, yeah, but doesn’t your grandmother have some sort of special power to get you whatever the fuck you want.”
It’s your turn to snort. “She may be resourceful, but she’s got no control over my management team. Even if she likes to think she does, the only real ability my Nana possesses is tell me what to wear and how to act.”
Eddie nods, taking note of this information. Knowledge he can use to free himself from deceit, blackmail.
Valuable insight into the evil woman that ruined his life since, as you’ve now so beautifully explained, she’s not nearly as formidable as she presented herself to be. A light at the end of the tunnel.
“Perhaps that’s why I can’t bring myself to listen to it,” you say, breaking Eddie away from his thoughts.
“What?”
“Perhaps that’s why I can’t bring myself to listen to Honesty. Because I didn’t record it here.” Nothing to do with the fact that it’s soiled by the memory of the last morning we saw each other, you think, clearly lying to yourself, and him.
Eddie swallows his breath. A twinge of guilt rushes through him. Actually, more than a twinge. A gush, like a waterfall out of control. He’s sure of it now. The two of you could never be just friends. Not until you knew the whole truth about why he did what he did and now that he knew your grandmother had a weakness in her armour, perhaps offering you the truth is something he could do sooner rather than later.
“Then maybe we should change that,” Eddie offers and proceeds to quickly shuffle out of the room, leaving you alone for a second.
You watch through the glass separating the two spaces as he scans the buttons, hands on his hips, tip of his tongue out to indicate he’s thinking. He looks cute and you fail to conceal a smile, so you opt to hang your head and stare at your shoes because you can’t afford to think he’s any sort of desirable. Just friends.
After taking a moment to familiarise himself with a new system, Eddie finds what he’s looking for and switches it on, before hurrying back to stand next to you.
“Ready?”
“Ready,” you affirm while putting a pair of headphones on.
For the next four minutes and twenty-two seconds, you get lost in the chocolate of Eddie’s eyes as you once again sing the song he wrote about you.
“Honestly, you got me fallin’ to my knees
It’s like ecstasy, this feelin’ inside of me
Let’s call it honesty”
Cove City Sound Studios creates magic. You’ve always believed it and now it’s only been affirmed because the way your voice melts with his — no band, no distractions — is nothing short of perfection. 
“You’re a devil in disguise
No, that’s what I want you to be
‘Cause in reality, hon’, you’re a hypnotic dream
An angel for sure
To a non-believer like me
Oh honesty, what have you done to me, honestly”
That’s why the song was a hit in the first place. Now you understand why your management team pushed you to do this collaboration in the first place. Magic. And as Eddie draws the last syllable without breaking eye contact, you’re transported back to the night you met. The night that inspired this song. 
The night that started all of this.
His mind wanders to the same moment, same place, same spot. Friendship is a word that no longer makes sense, but the rockstar doesn’t want to ruin anything (again), so he drops the headphones and exits the booth without saying anything.
You follow him with your gaze. A feeling of longing spreads through you faster than you know what to do with it. It’s unfortunately accompanied by fear because you’re not stupid, far from it. Eddie’s hurt you twice before. Going back in only to get burned a third time would be a grave mistake and you know better than to go down that road again. ‘Cause you do know better, right?
Then this morning’s conversation with Holly enters your mind. Your best friend was right. You could never be happy around him if you didn’t know the truth.
“Eddie, can I ask you something?”
“Sure.”
“Do you think if you didn’t end things when you did, we’d still be together? Or do you think we were doomed regardless?”
He takes a moment to answer. Avoiding looking up through the glass to meet your curious gaze, anxious for an answer.
“I already told you.” His deep voice eventually booms through the speakers. “I’m not the relationship type.”
“Bullshit,” you’re quick to state. It comes out harsher than intended.
“Sweetheart—” He’s shaking his head, still without looking at you.
“No, don’t you fucking dare,” you interrupt, suddenly feeling deflated by this whole situation, defeated in the fight against your feelings towards him. “Like I said before, you don’t get to sweetheart me and give me some bullshit vague answer.”
Eddie’s eyes are now closed. He’s hoping if he shows how he wants no part of this conversation — not right now, not before he gets to speak to your management and then offers you up the truth — that you will let it go. Like you did that night in Coney Island and those last few days too. You seemingly let it go and everything was okay. Fucking friends.
“I gave in too quickly. Into your presence. I missed you so much that when you showed up at my door, it didn’t matter how angry or heartbroken I was. All that mattered was seeing you again and being around you again. But I should’ve stood my ground.”
You’re now standing right in front of the glass window. Arms hanging by your side, nails digging into your palms to pump the adrenaline that’s fueling this fight.
“No matter how many times you tell me that you’re not the relationship type, I won’t believe you. I refuse to believe you because that guy I met in an empty kitchen of a Hidden Hills mansion was looking for something more than a random hook up. He may not have said it, but he proved it with his actions,” you continue your reasonings, “He craved something meaningful. I saw it in the way he smiled every time his eyes met mine, and sensed it in the way he held me close.”
Then you exhale.
“That guy, although hiding behind a mask of an arrogant  dickhead, he wanted to be loved and Jesus Christ did I—”
Eddie’s gaze snaps to you then, widening.
“But if I got it all wrong,” you continue after a few seconds, “If I misunderstood that guy and what he really wanted, then all I need is for him to be straight with me,” you conclude, “No bullshit excuses, Eddie. If you simply didn’t like me, if you simply didn’t care, just say that and we can both carry on with our lives as if nothing ever happened.”
The door slams. Eddie stands in front of you in a flash, brown eyes holding onto yours with force. He’s agitated. He runs a hand down his face before reaching for your shoulders, then dropping his arms back by his side just as fast.
“I cared, of course I cared!” He exhales to compose himself before continuing, “I still care.” It’s barely a whisper.
“Then why?”
“I-I… Well, I just…”
His mind is racing to find the right answer. The truth is what you’re after, unfortunately that’s the one thing he can’t give you yet. Not if he wants to continue witnessing your success. Because, at the end of the day, his own fame and fortune is no longer important. He could care less if it burned to the ground. Your fame however, your fortune, that’s not something Eddie’s willing to gamble. So again, until he can speak to your management, get ahead of your grandmother’s scheming, the truth will remain sealed.
At least some part of it.
“There was this girl. Back home.” Eddie begins, voice shaky, “Before you, she was the only girl that ever saw me for who I really was.”
“Chrissy Cunningham,” you say her name.
Eddie nods.
“Yeah, Chrissy,” he repeats the name. It tastes a little foreign on his tongue after all this time. “Seemingly the classic cheerleader type, you know? Blonde, preppy, always fucking smiling. But Chrissy, she uh… she was far from just a cheerleader. Like me, she was a little misunderstood and that’s what initially brought us together.”
“What happened to her?” You ask. “You keep saying ‘was’. Chrissy was, as if she’s no longer—”
“Look, sweetheart,” Eddie interrupts, “I-I don’t really talk about her. I don’t like to. Too many bad memories.”
“Right,” you murmur, nodding slowly.
“Long story short, I cared for her and it didn’t end well, so when my care for you started to surpass that feeling… I just got scared.”
“Then why not tell me about her in the first place?” You query, “We could’ve talked it out. Pumped the brakes on whatever our relationship was starting to become.”
Eddie doesn’t mean to, but he scoffs. “And then what, huh? Just tip-toe around how we’re actually feeling until that builds resentment? Then it just ends anyway, but it hurts a lot more, no?”
He’s running a hand through his wild locks. Frustrated wouldn’t be the right word. Annoyed feels borderline the same. Angry, yes, but not at you. Angry at the world for introducing such a perfect character into his otherwise shitty life because he’d be better off without you. No. You’d be better off without him? Also no. Jesus Christ, he’s fucking confused.
“That’s what you asked. If I didn’t end things, would we still be together. The truth is, sweetheart, I don’t know because I attract bad shit and people get hurt and… And I need you to be happy, with or without me.”
Silence falls upon the two of you. It’s heavy with the half-truths that were just revealed. Heavy with the underlying tones that are telling you Eddie still cares, and telling him that so do you — more than either of you were willing to admit back then, and even less now.
And there’s definitely feelings there. They bubbled up the second you laid your eyes on him again and as your few days together passed without a major blowout, they only grew stronger — something you explained to Holly, who said that Eddie was so unlike you, it only made sense to feel something towards him. Love him, even.
Perhaps the hurt was worth it.
“Oh, fuck.”
“What?” Eddie’s brows string together as you momentarily glance at your feet before settling your gaze back on the rockstar.
“Guess we were never supposed to do this right.”
“What?” Eddie asks again.
“You said that to me. Back in LA after that picture of us was leaked to the press, remember?”
“Vaguely,” he answers.
“What if you were right?” You ask, tone a little quieter than seconds prior.
“I’m sorry, sweetheart, but I’m not sure I’m following.”
Decided on your next move, in what you want to happen, you take a step towards the Corroded Coffin frontman so that the tips of your heels are touching his loosely tied Converse. You then place a hand on his chest, albeit hesitantly, and Eddie inhales a sharp breath (loud enough for you to hear).
“What if all of this, everything that happened between us, is because we were never meant to do this right in the first place, Eds?” 
A timid smile circles your lips as the question you asked settles in the air. Loaded full of uncertainty for the future and everything that time ahead holds for the two of you. Your Nana would say that a person of your stature shouldn’t give into uncertainty, something that in Eddie’s case was often repeated by Marianne. Everything is always meticulously planned. No room for error because uncertainty leads to mistakes and those are a nightmare for your respective PR teams. Unfortunately for those teams, uncertainty is what drew you to each other in the first place.
That, and insane fucking attraction.
“I did come here because I regret my decision,” he says while you say, “I miss you.” Both come out at the same time. Mumbled, jumbled together. It registers though.
Without giving it a second thought, Eddie dips his head lower while his hands reach for your face, ring-clad fingers now holding your cheeks. In that same breath, his lips crash against yours in a yearning kiss — one that is fuelled by months of pent up tension and a desire you both shared since your first meeting back in August of ‘92.
It's a dance of fire. One that is burning bigger and brighter with every second his mouth is attached to yours. Dangerous, would be a good word to describe this moment, but the line has been crossed yet again and since there’s definitely no going back now, your fingers tangle themselves in his brown locks as you push your body closer. Eddie also gets braver. He bites down on your bottom lip and when you gasp ever so softly, the rockstar slides his tongue in with ease.
You feel elated. This is exactly what you’ve been missing and by the way Eddie’s tongue twirls within your mouth, hands squishing your face, afraid to let go, you know it’s what he’s been missing too.
It’s destructive, for sure. But the hurt is worth it. You know that now. You feel it. Every single fibre of your being grows more and more alive as Eddie presses into you further, as he caresses your skin with so much tenderness. And you’re beyond cloud nine. Beyond touching heaven. It’s destructive, but it’s bliss.
“If we keep kissing like this,” he whispers against your lips, forehead pressing against yours, “I’m afraid I won’t be able to contain myself.”
“Who says you have to?”
Eddie groans against your jawline before continuing to trail soft pecks along your skin until he reaches your ear, biting it gently.
“We should probably talk about what this means,” he says, but you just shake your head. “‘Cause friends don’t kiss like that, sweetheart.”
“I don’t care about that now, Eds.” You affirm, sure of what you want. Sure that you don’t ever want to forget him or move on. He is a part of you, forever. “I just want you.”
And with that your lips finds his again.
The kiss is feverish, messy. You’re tugging at each other’s clothes, desperately trying to get them out of the way as fast as possible. In an attempt to be even closer, propelled by an indescribable urge, Eddie shifts your positions so that his back is the one to the room, you’re by the wall, and mere seconds later, your back is pressed firmly against his chest.
His strong hands send shivers through your body as they make their way down until they reach your panties, skirt long disregarded, a garment on the floor. He no longer hesitates about what this means, ripping the material down before his feet are kicking your legs apart. Ring-clad fingers slide along the curve of your ass, kneading the flesh, desperate to feel you. All of you. And as one hand works to unzip his pants, the other works its way to your wet entrance, feeling along your slit.
“Please, please…” The excitement causes you to grow warm and moist in his hand.
He can’t contain himself. Removing his hand in a rapid manner, he pushes his cock inside of your starved pussy. You close your eyes at the contact and Eddie begins to fuck you, hard. Rhythm picks up rapidly and you’re clenching around him in a matter of minutes, lower muscles seizing at the contact they’ve long forgotten, but were now more than pleasantly reminded of. 
“God,” he groans, “I fucking missed you.”
The moan that escapes your lips is nothing short of pornographic. It’s a direct response to his words, as well as his actions. He’s pounding into you relentlessly. There’s no time for pleasantries or any sort of softness. This is all about fulfilling a need-based desire and you’re more than willing to comply, high on his voice when he praises “Fuck, baby”, and “You’re doing so good for me, pretty girl.”
When you feel his hands grip your hips, you moan his name. Loud, pathetic. Undone. The rockstar begins to bounce you against him. Your knees weaken and you fall back onto him, head now resting on his shoulder, losing yourself completely in the moment and the pure ecstasy that you’re feeling. The pleasure is almost too much for you.
“Eddie, I’m so close,” you whisper, looking up at him through your lashes. 
The Corroded Coffin frontman captures your mouth with his. Short, but far from sweet is the kiss. Hungry and devilish. He bites your bottom lip as he pulls away, drawing just a prick of blood.
“Let go for me, baby.” 
When you do, obeying his request, your whole body shivers harshly in his embrace. Eddie keeps going, only his pace has slowed. He’s whispering sweet-nothings into your ear, continuously praising you for being his good girl, and you promise yourself that no matter what happens next, you’re going to be that forever. 
The high soon ends and Eddie pushes you forward gently. You then feel the rockstar’s cock leave you, warm cum spurting over your ass without warning. You’re delighting in the feeling of his juices on your skin. He delights in it too, trailing his fingers over your rear until you turn around to face him.
There’s a smile on your face. Devious, yet benevolent.
Yes, Eddie thinks, Stevie Nicks was definitely right. ‘You'll never get away from the sound of the woman that loves you.’ Not like he’d ever want to anyway.
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thank you for reading! really appreciate the endless & continuous support!
celebrity skin. masterlist
& tagging some cool ppl that expressed interest: @eviethetheatrefreak , @thirddeadlysin , @haylaansmi , @nope-thanks , @tlclick73 , @vintagehellfire , @ashlynnkennedy , @avalon-wolf , @sidthedollface2 , @astheni-a , @bebe07011 , @aysheashea , @papillonoirsworld , @vol2eddie, @spideyanakin-interacts , @rogers-sweatbands , @mimsie95 , @mmunson86 , @eddiesguitarskills , @ohmeg - (if your user is crossed out, it means the tag isn’t working. pls check you’ve enabled tagging in your settings)
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gabessquishytum · 1 day
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Lord Time and Lady Night casually drop it over the dinner that Dream is getting married next weekend. The fiancé is alpha Roderick Burgess, and Dream is absolutely terrified. The old fucker has been trying to court him for a long time. Dream has flat-out rejected him, which, obviously, didn't help in the slightest: Duke Burgess is rich AF, has the title, and Dream's parents consider him a good match. Dream knows that there's no way for him to cancel the wedding - his parents would make him go down the altar even if it's the last thing he does in his life. But he can pull a runaway bride before it's too late! He understands that it's a matter of time till he's found; besides, omegas are not allowed to live on their own. There's only one solution - Dream needs not only to escape but to be mated. If he gets a mating bite, he'd be legally bound to another alpha, and neither his parents nor Burgess would have a say in his life. Easier to be said than done! No sane alpha would dare to mate Dream Endless, the son of Lord Time, no matter how beautiful he looks and how enticing he smells. Moreover, Dream doesn't want to escape one prison just to get into another one - he wants someone good and understanding. Things that Roderick is not. Anyway, the time is running out, and Dream runs away into the night. He rides as long as he can, but even his horse Jessamy, as awesome as she is, needs some rest. And food. And so does Dream, for he couldn't take any supplies from the manor to avoid suspicions. Reluctantly, Dream decides to spend the night in The White Horse Inn. It is far from the manor, and if his absence goes unnoticed until breakfast, he'll be able to rest and buy enough stuff to wait out a few days in the forest. Or, if he's lucky enough, to meet someone agreeable to mate him. Hob Gadling, the innkeeper, recognizes Dream from the start. But even if he didn't, Dream's attire and manners just scream he's nobility who has never been to such places. And he smells like an unmated omega who is prohibited to travel on his own... Still, Hob doesn't need a title to tell when an omega is distressed, and Dream is clearly in trouble. Hob welcomes him like a dear friend, serves him dinner, ensures the omega's horse is comfortable at the stable, and goes back to try to find out what's happened to his guest. Maybe he can help? He also tries very hard not to stare - the stories of Dream's heavenly beauty turned out to be true, and Hob's only an alpha... Dream realizes it's now or never. He must seduce Hob! Even if Hob refuses to bite him, perhaps Dream would be of no interest to Burgess if he's 'second-hand.' To secure a bite would be better, though. If only Dream knew how to lure this strong, kind, and caring alpha into bedding him...
I'm obsessed with this - the mere image of rich, sheltered and shy omega Dream desperately attempting to seduce Hob is absolutely charming. Dream knows plenty about drawing-room small talk, about the weather and one's health and the state of the roads... but he knows very little about passion. Or what an alpha might truly want. He's almost in tears with frustration as Hob kindly rebuffs his clumsy attempts to flirt. He's desperate and tired and kind of a little worked up because Hob is actually kind of sexy.......
Hob kind of wants to laugh, but he's not that mean. So he takes Dream through into his own private little sitting room and makes him explain the whole story from the beginning. He's not promising anything, but he will try to help if he can.
About an hour later he's between Dream’s legs, thinking that this isn't exactly the kind of "help" that he'd envisaged providing. But Dream is no longer just a desperate runaway. He's an omega growing into himself, becoming himself. He's got his hand fisted in Hob’s hair and he's demanding more. Hob obeys him without question. If the church was open at such a late hour he'd take Dream down there right now and marry him on the spot, both of them smelling like sex and cum and all.
And when Dream demands to be bitten in his haughty lordly voice, well. Hob IS only an alpha... what can he do but obey, and make sure that this beautiful, spirited omega remains free of Burgess? Hob intends to be Dream’s mate of course, but he also intends to set Dream properly free. Help him be the person he was always meant to be. He can't wait to see how it all turns out.
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hiaon · 1 day
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hello mister!
would you ever be up to writing a story Mulan-like style, in which a country is at war and young adults who are alphas go to fight, and for some reason omega!male!reader decides to pass as an alpha (or even a beta who volunteered instead of getting drafted) and goes to war. Perhaps even before a battle, maybe when the troops are still training, his commander (an alpha dilf who is like 35 while reader is like 20) finds out that the reader is an omega while he’s in heat and he just goes on to breed the reader, maybe even get his poor subordinate knocked up?
Dubcon if you want, but if you’re not comfortable with it, do whatever you want!!
Sorry for this :p and thanks for reading!
'Helping'
Commander x Male! Bottom! Reader
Also this was a very great idea. I had to write it as fast as possible.. But I took forever so 🤡🤡
Disclaimer: Dubcon, fingering, Corruption kink.
Should I write more in 1st person POV? It's been a while... I should have made this 1st person POV.. Nvm.. Next suggestion or my own story. I'll make it 1st person POV.
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It was hard enough to be accepted to go out to war. But somehow your secondary gender made it worst, you we're in heat and don't know what to do.
Secondary genders are the once that makes sure either your going to be in a comfortable position or you suffer. Beta makes up 60% of the world. Alphas are the most respected secondary gender, either a man or a woman, you are still guaranteed to have a happy life.
While.. Omegas are that everybody finds charming when the omega is a women. But not a man, imagine when a man giving birth.. It's just ruin the reputation and image of a man. So when they figure out when a boy is an omega.. They usually just forcefully take them. But your a lucky one.
Your father had this magical pill that you still don't know where the origins of, make you take them everyday so you'll seem more like an beta.
So some people seemed confused that you look so feminine. But they eventually brushed it off.
Thanks to the pills that your father gave to you every day your scent just seems like any other beta. Until, your father was being forced to serve the kingdom and fight for war. You wasn't an option because betas are only 21 and above only, you we're only 20 at that time, and most importantly the standard recruitment is that you have to be an alpha. Your father was an alpha.
Your father had 2 days until he goes to the troops camp. But you we're stubborn, you wanted your father to have happy days, and have peace. So you took your father's place. Also took all the pills that you had which was 3 months worth of the pills, but also you knew it wasn't going to last long.
But you kept your Identity safe. But they we're confused on why you had such an feminine body. It eventually toned down with that.
But you eventually befriend 3 humble looking fellows and, you manage to get close with the commander not because of great communication.. Its because on how much you get hurt when practicing.. Which was a lot of times.
You noticed that you he was in the infirmary tent a lot. You sometimes start small-talks, he speaks so little so you eventually just stopped.
You and your teammates we're preparing to attack tomorrow, so you guys we're prepping the swords, armor, shield and ect... Meanwhile you we're done with preparing with the things needed, you decided to take a bath since you always talk the bath last. It's just more comfortable that way.
While you we're bathing you felt something weird. In your stomach area. It started to burn you never experienced this your whole life, is it because you stopped taking the pills? More likely ran out of it.
You never forgot to take the pills, because your father say so, so this what happens when you skip..?
You started to feel cold on how hot you we're getting, the new sensations makes you less aware that somebody was entering the water with you.
"[Y/N]" that voice startled you.
"O-oh!." You really needed something. You just didn't know why.
"[Y/N] I have been wanting to ask you something for quite some time." Your Comander said after briefly saying— "Are you truly a beta?"
The commander looked like he wants answers.
You couldn't contain it anymore and to had no shame in asking it was too cold for and hot at the same time—
"Command.. Commander.. Can you please hu.. hug me.!" The commander was stunned for a moment, and hugged him all of the sudden.
"I know now, I know what you are." The commander picked you up in a bride style and put on a towel on to your body and coving you face along with it.. Yes, he was walking naked towards his tent. No one was allowed in there. But it seems like you was going to be in that tent for a while.
You just feel that some people saw but the commander did not give two shits about them.
He just kept on walking to the tent, as if he wasn't at all naked at all..
He placed you into— you assumed his bed.
"Do you even know how to take care of your heat?" The Commander asked you. But to be honest, you don't know even what a heat is.
"Uhm." As you we're trying to answer, the commander was still standing up while getting in between your legs.
"You don't have to answer that, besides, I like it that way." The commander said while spreading his way to you hole, and your slick made it less painful. So that's why it's there.
"W-what are you doing Ack!" The commander's fingers keeps on going deeper than it should. When he hit the spot you made a lot of noise, so he kept hitting it.
"Ahh.! Commande-er.! Please stop!" You said that but you really didn't want him to stop. This was the thing you didn't know you needed the most.
"Mhm.." The commander took out his two fingers and licked it. It was kind of embarrassing for him to do that, and you don't even know the reason.
"Try telling me if it hurt or not okay?" The commander told you as he aligned his member to your hole.
"Wha-" You stopped mid sentence when you see that his member trying to enter your small hole.
"Commander.. That thing isn't going to fit me.." You got a little scared.
"Don't worry, it will." The commander said with confidence.
It took some time to get used to his size. But when you did you two we're like bunnies in heat, but you literally are.
After he came two times, and you came 4 times you guys cleaned each other in the river. He insisted for you to sleep in his tent but he already did do much for you, you we're embarrassed to take too much.
So you declined and you tried to sleep in your bed, but you couldn't on how much happened today...
But now you know where to go after when you're in heat.
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Little skit:
A little while after you lay down in your bed you, you hear people come in.
A trio walked to their beds and sat down. A guy broke the silence.
"Hey man, did you see that the Commander had brought a woman in his tent!" [F/N](1) said wanting to talk about the situation.
"Yeahh it's no doubt that it was woman! I mean.. Did you see those smooth long legs!?" [F/N](2) said.
You just pretended you weren't there...
"People! You don't know if that woman is Commander's wife!? You'll get killed immediately if Commander finds out you know!!" [F/N](3) said in an annoyed voice, he just didn't want rumors to spread about that poor woman..
"Oh. my. shit, your right I better go to sleep and pretend I saw nothin'..." [F/N](2) said and immediately fell asleep.
"Seriously, how does he do that.." [F/N] (1) staring blandly at the sleeping man who was talking a lot about 5 seconds ago..
"Some kind of super power of something.." [F/N](3) said while he was sitting and preparing to sleep.
You pretend that you didn't hear any of that.
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silverflqmes · 2 days
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Do you have any hcs for yandere Sephiroth? 👀
໒⦂ ‘𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄’ 𝐇𝐂𝐒.
notes. hi hi so uh i don’t do yandere stuff, it’s not a topic i’m super comfortable with writing ( as mentioned in my rules ) but i will provide a more subtle, toned down version if that’s okay instead :’)
genre. angst + suggestive
tw. possessive behavior, implied manipulation, jealousy
disclaimer. there is a visible flip in the headcanons from pre nibleheim sephiroth to post — which takes on a darker approach. if it’s not something you are comfortable with reading, then don’t.
sephiroth x gn!reader.
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⌗ as a person who dealt with the loss of those he allowed into his life, having brought his walls down for them.. i do think sephiroth might have developed a bit of overprotective behavior — which honestly, is expected..
⌗ he doesn’t want to lose you or for any harm to come your way. whether losing you refers to death.. or to someone else — he doesn’t want any of that to come to fruition.
⌗ everything in life he cherished has been taken from him and you are not about to be one of them..
⌗ normally he’s as cool as a pickle if you’re talking to someone else, but there’s this aura emitting from him.. one look at sephiroth and the innocent bystander is practically shaking in their boots.
⌗ you of course — would be confused as hell on this.. i mean when sephiroth pulls you closer, you just assume he wants proximity..
⌗ until you go home, that is, and he’s just holding you without any means of letting go.. it’s silly, watching that subtle, yet visible pout of his and the furrow to his brows and all is understood
⌗ piece of you by shawn mendes tbh that is where my brain is rn
⌗ sometimes it’s a little more than an inescapable hug and turns into a storm of kisses — perhaps even a mark or few would be left in his wake.. but nothing that makes you uncomfortable cuz he doesn’t want to hurt or force you into anything. consent!!
⌗ while he has selfish desires and would prefer to have you all to himself, he values boundaries and freedom — it’s something he wasn’t given and he isn’t about to take that away from you, too.
⌗ but if you were trying to get a reaction out of him by PURPOSELY trying to make him jealous.. good LUCK walking in the morning are the only words i have for you LMAO
⌗ there is after care tho trust and it’s all part of the plan because he gets to have you stay over and spend time with him<3 which — despite your grumbles — you are more than happy to do<3
⌗ now uh, post nibelheim sephiroth.. he is a different case cuz he’s under the influence of jenova cells — which are obviously making him do some wild stuff..
⌗ following the concept that you would have said cells opens up the opportunity to mess with you a bit, as a means of getting you to execute his whims. kinda like he does with cloud..
⌗ he’s aware you’re trying to take him back and save him from what he’s become, and uses that to his advantage. you would do anything for him, wouldn’t you?
⌗ slowly, he would isolate you from your companions — they want him gone, anyway, but you don’t. you couldn’t sit with the idea of your lover being gone, even in spite of all he had done.
⌗ you told yourself it wasn’t him, and it was true, it wasn’t. for that.. you wished to continue your attempts at saving him, even if it was a descent into madness..
⌗ gradually, you are succumbing to his words, allowing them to reshape the view you had made for yourself.
⌗ he was right, anyway. the humans who blindly believed in shinra- were the ones that gave the company the power and means of further destroying the planet for their glory. sephiroth was right in almost every way to execute the goals he made for himself.
⌗ he only ever appeared briefly to you, his caresses leaving enough of a linger to leave you touch starved — yearning for contact.
⌗ the one winged angel only whispered soon in that velvety tone of his, a reassurance of the reunion that would be upon you both in time.
⌗ but at times, you pressed, pleading for just another second — minute or few of his time.. and with that desperation in your voice, the expression that crosses your features, how could he refuse you?
⌗ he would spare his precious time and entertain you a moment longer, indulging just a bit in you, and himself, of course. but once more leaving you lingering, longing for more.
notes. not one for writing yandere oriented content, so i hope this was okay and fulfilling enough since i watered it down quite a bit :’) just not super comfy associating him with the qualities of a yandere..
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Come to Bed | Donatello
this started with the idea of seducing donnie into healthy sleeping patterns and then just. spiralled from there. i didn't really have a specific iteration in mind but reading it back, it definitely fits bayverse most, i think, so that's what i'll categorise it under!
warnings: NSFW, swearing, general filthiness? gender neutral reader, everyone is 18+!!
summary: there is only one way to get donnie to come to bed (two if you count blackmail)
word count: 2411
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
It’s nearly 3am and your eyelids feel heavy, eyes glassy and beginning to ache just a little, and Donnie is still not in bed. You look at the empty space beside you, cold and untouched, and kick the covers off your bare legs. The air is cool, goosebumps raising the moment you abandon the comfort of bed, and you almost regret getting up as your feet hit the freezing floor.
Donnie is so lucky you love him and care for his health.
He's exactly where you'd left him hours before, sitting hunched over a desk in his lab, and you wonder briefly if turtles with their shells can suffer the same complications as humans with poor posture. Perhaps you'll force him to join you and Mikey for your bi-weekly yoga sessions. “Donnie?”
The terrapin doesn't so much as flinch, instead burying his face further into a screen that is already way too close to his face. Oh, his prescription is definitely going to need updating soon, you think amusedly. You clear your throat, attempting your best grumpy Raph impersonation. “Oi, four-eyes.”
Now Donnie does flinch, beak nearly crashing into his monitor, glasses slipping as he salvages his precious technology from being assaulted by his face and spinning in his seat to glower at whoever dared disturb him. He relaxes when he realises it's just you, shooting you a scowl that's devoid of any real heat. “You need to stop doing that voice, it's creepy.”
You grin at him, noting the exact moment he registers what you're wearing – or, rather, what you're not wearing. His eyes go wide and his lips part, scowl melting like ice doused in salt. He swallows thickly. “You're meant to be a ninja,” you tease, stepping slowly into his space and letting his hands fall to your waist before they curl around your back as he pulls you close, palms flattening against your spine. “You can't hear when one measly human is behind you?”
“You are so mean to me,” Donnie says instead of answering.
“We both know you like it. Besides,” you look down at your naked skin, his own eyes following your pointed gaze eagerly. “I think I'm being pretty kind, actually. Someone was meant to come to bed three hours ago and ravish me, but apparently, I'm not more interesting than,” you peer over his shoulder as best you can, squinting at the tiny squiggles. Lips pursed, you look at your boyfriend flatly, not bothering to finish your sentence.
“I can explain.”
“World of Warcraft? Really, Donatello?”
He winces at the full name. “I wasn’t playing for long,” he defends himself. “I’ve been looking over some things Leo asked for since this morning, I was just taking a break.”
“Taking a break means coming to bed and not staring at a screen for even longer.” Softer, you add, “I’ve been waiting for you for hours.”
You run your hands up the bumpy skin of his muscled arms, over scars and rough tissue that you’ve pressed kisses to countless times, to rest upon his shoulders. A small part of you is resentful, but the larger, kinder part of you is concerned; his eyes are bloodshot to the extreme, and exhaustion is etched deep into the lines of his face. You dig your nails in and massage a little roughly, feeling those worried knots and doing your best to soothe them with gentle palms.
It hits him then, just exactly what he’d missed out on by getting caught up, and his shoulders sag under the tender weight of your caress, twitchy energy that can keep him up for days deserting him instantly. “I’m sorry,” he murmurs quietly.
You smile at him, fond and warm, one hand trailing upwards to cup his jaw. “It’s okay.” His skin is something you’ll never get tired of touching, you think, as you rub your thumb over the swell of his cheek. You pinch him a little, coy and mean the way you know he loves, before soothing it with a whisper of a kiss when he hisses playfully. “Although, you’ll have to make it up to me.”
“And what is my punishment?” he asks dryly, guilt pushed aside to indulge in your teasing as you lean closer to hide your smirk in the crook of his neck.
“You’ll be in bed by 11 p.m. sharp every night for the next week.” You can tell an objection is on the tip of his tongue, and you fix your teeth along his throat in warning. “I’ve already cleared everything with Splinter and Leo.” 
Donnie sighs both in pleasure and in resignation. “Are you trying to seduce me into having healthy sleeping patterns?”
You start to kiss his neck, soft grazes of your lips against his scaled skin. “Maybe. Is it working?”
“Well—”
“If the answer isn’t yes, I’ll be very offended and I’ll be forced to dump you,” you add airily, tongue flicking leisurely over his rapid pulse. “You're incredibly lucky I haven't already for ditching me for World of fucking Warcraft.”
“Oh, blackmail too. Lucky me,” Donnie mutters, but it’s full of mirth and he doesn't push his luck any further.
You grin against his skin, and you grin even wider when he starts as your teeth scrape along the column of his throat. His hands have a bruising grip on your hips, and you bite down harder just to feel his grip tighten.
“You’re such a tease,” he whines, unable to stop himself bucking up into you. His breathing has turned to panting, short and desperate gasps that make heat curl in your stomach, and you trail your nails down the keratin of his plastron slowly.
“You love it,” you murmur coyly, fingers brushing against the elastic of his waistband mischievously. “And you deserve it.”
Donnie curses loudly, head falling back as you pull on that elastic just to let it snap back against him. His pants are soaking, and you feel that familiar rush of smug satisfaction as you slot your knee between his thighs. It does terrible things to your ego seeing him like this; it makes you drunk and dizzy seeing him drenched and needy for you, and you groan under your breath as he grinds against you. 
“Please,” he whimpers.
You hum as casually as you can. “Please what?”
“Fuck, please, I need you—” He cuts himself off with a loud cry of your name as you slide two fingers past his waistband and into his dripping cloaca.
“Keep going.”
He’s quick to turn into a blubbering mess, drool running down his chin and words slurring as he babbles and begs you to continue finger-fucking him. “Don’t stop, please—yes, yes, right there, there, fuck—”
Your fingers pump in and out, scissoring inside him at a harsh pace you know he likes. He’s sopping wet but that doesn’t stop the tiny spikes of pain mixing deliriously with pleasure as you stretch him wide without warning. You can feel his slick coating your hand, running down your skin and over your knuckles, and he only gushes more when you add a third digit.
“Faster, faster,” he chants shakily, almost sobbing when you slow instead. 
“You’re so tight, baby,” you purr. “I wouldn’t wanna hurt you.”
He’s definitely sobbing now. “I can take it, please, please.”
“Oh?” You curl your fingers and fuck him harder and faster, just the way he wants. His cock is there, thick and heavy and ready to drop, and he shudders as you brush softly against it.
His voice is choked as he calls your name again. "Gonna drop, please–”
Your laugh is light and a little cruel and it makes him wail, the sound overflowing with need and desperation. “Don’t you dare.”
“Oh god,” Donnie gasps as your fingers rub along his length still tucked inside, a fresh wave of slick trickling down to your wrist.
“I would’ve been kind,” you tell him nonchalantly, kissing his temple and huffing another laugh when he can’t stop his hips from grinding into you, body begging you to bury your fingers deeper inside him. “But you’ve been such a bad boy.”
He drops with a guttural groan followed by a pathetic whimper, gasping apologies feebly.
You sigh and pull your hand back, your resolve faltering just a little when Donnie whines and cries louder at the action. “You’re being very bad tonight, baby.”
He’s still wearing his pants and you roll your lips to hide a smile as he tugs them down frantically, his cock finally free in the air. His hands grip the arms of his chair so hard that you swear you hear them creak, desperate to touch himself but not wanting to disobey you any further. It’s a bit late to play innocent and good now, and you shoot him an unimpressed look that makes his jaw clench. “Please,” Donnie breathes.
Your hand is still soaked, and you watch him watch you as you raise your fingers to your lips, sticky tendrils trembling as you rub your fingertips together before parting them slowly. Eyes fixed on his, you glide your tongue over his slick, sucking gently and exhaling quietly at the flavour that blooms over your tastebuds. The arms of the chair are definitely creaking now, and you smile coyly as his cock twitches.
“Please.”
As much as you love teasing him into a pathetic frenzy, you remember his weary eyes and decide to put him out of his misery. There’ll be plenty of time to punish Donnie the way he deserves later – lots of edging and whining and begging and very little relief. For now, you’ll give him what he wants.
You kneel between his legs, coquettish as you glance up at him through your lashes; he’s working his jaw, teeth clenched and eyes darting wildly as he barely holds himself together. Grasping his hard cock in your hand, slick and heavy, you begin to pump slowly.
The chirps and churrs that escape him are whining and full of ecstasy, his eyes fluttering as you squeeze your palms around his thick length, hands twisting with an obscene squelch at every stroke. The lab is quiet apart from the wet pumping and his throaty groans, and you wonder if his moaning will be loud enough to wake the others. It wouldn’t surprise you, and the thought makes your hand move faster as you rub your thumb over the sensitive head of his cock.
Donnie can’t stop the stutter of his hips, head falling back. “Fuck.” He swears louder as your lips suckle his tip, your name a rasping prayer spilling from his mouth. You flick your tongue, tasting the slightly bitter flavour of his precum and just how soaked he is, evidence of what you do to him coating your face, and he cries noisily when you suddenly take another few inches into your mouth and swallow around him. He’s hitting the back of your throat, and he feels like he’s about to faint from how tight and warm you feel.
A wave of embarrassment hits him as you pull back and smirk, his head still pressed against your flirtatious smile while you continue to work him with your hands. “Please,” he begs for what feels like the hundredth time that night.
“You’re so good at begging,” you praise, eyes sparkling when it makes him moan lewdly. Oh, that definitely woke someone up. He’s back to bucking his hips and because you’re so kind, you let him dictate the pace as you continue pumping.
“So close,” he breathes shakily. “I’m so close, please.”
“Please, what?”
His eyes roll back, and the arms of his chair finally give way, crumbling under his crushing grip as impressions of his hands mould into the metal. Donnie doesn’t stop rocking and whimpering. “Please let me come.”
You kiss the head of his cock once more, delighting in the way he tremors at the whisper of touch. “Be a good boy and come for me, Donatello.”
There’s nothing Donnie loves more than being good for you and he shows this by coming undone the second his name leaves your lips, body jolting and convulsing like he's been struck by lightning as you continue to milk his cock while his orgasm wracks through him. Your face is completely covered, ropes of his come painting your skin as he groans pitifully, the sound agonised and mewling. 
It’s almost silent for a few moments, the only noises are Donnie’s wheezing pants and whimpers of oversensitivity, and you watch him quietly. He’s so beautiful like this, blissed out, stress a stranger rather than a constant companion, and you wish you could both stay like this.
The moment is over too soon as the terrapin manages to open his eyes blearily, although they nearly shut again in dizzying satisfaction when he catches sight of your come-smeared cheeks. It’s dripping down your chin, threatening to spill down your neck and to your chest, and a part of you wants to leave it, relishing in the way Donnie is entirely transfixed, but you scoop what you can on your fingers and bring the sticky threads to your mouth instead.
Donnie’s lips part and his breath hitches and it’s your turn to shut your eyes in pleasure, eyes rolling and unable to stop a soft groan as you lick and swallow what he’s given you. “Mean,” he accuses again when you finally open your eyes, and you grin at how faint he sounds.
“Just for you,” you agree and he churrs instinctively, flushing as you snicker. He’s so cute, you think fondly, letting him reach out and grasp you closer, seeking comfort. And so easy.
“I think I need that nap now,” Donnie tells you weakly, and you huff another laugh against his sweaty skin, tasting salt and nuzzling further into him. 
You press a loving kiss to his shoulder and reluctantly pull back. “Shower then bed, come on.” His legs are shaky, and you purse your lips to stop from chuckling as he stumbles like a newborn lamb, begrudgingly relenting to leaning against you. “Poor Bambi,” you tease, brushing your lips against his plastron in a loving caress when he grumbles playfully. 
Hopefully, no one has been awoken by your night-time activities and, if they have, you hope they’re not up and roaming because you’d really rather not have to bump into any of Donnie’s family with his come still coating your face.
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