ANEIIX

I keep drinking you in your love is helium‎ . ݁⋆ ꫂ᭪ ݁˖ . ݁ Aneiix/19 ‎

[aneiix]

Master list

Joe Keery

Steve Harrington‎ . ݁⋆ ꫂ᭪ ݁˖ . ݁

Where we choose to stay

Our final play

Gator Tillman⋆˚.༄

Weakness

Joseph Quinn

Loading꩜⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

Enhypen

jake sim˚ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆｡☆

Look at me

Nct

Na Jaemin⊹˚. ♡.𖥔 ݁ ˖

Guess who’s back-Smau

[soulofsim]

their stocks are falling, the petition is around LESS THAN 100k signatures away from reaching ONE MILLION, there have been almost EIGHT MILLION posts on x/twt about this, multiple protest trucks outside the building of hybe THAT HYBE STAFF THEMSELVES TOOK PHOTOS OF !!!! and reminder there have been NO news of his contract termination even if he’s supposedly (let’s assume) under a soloist contract THERES STILL NO NEWS OF HIS CONTRACT TERMINATION FOR ENHYPEN. as bad as it may feel and look like for us rn it’s looking WAY worse for hybe/belift. there’s still sm hope don’t any of u dare to give up pls — mass email, call, use as many emails as you have, do anything in your capability because nothing has been fully confirmed and decided yet we still have a chance !!!

SIGN THE PETITION !!! LINK

• READ THE THREAD TO HELP: LINK

• EMAIL THEIR INVESTORS: LINK 1 | LINK 2 | LINK 3

• KOREAN [in person] PROTEST: LINK 1 | LINK 2

• GIVE BAD REVIEWS (they’ve currently deleted over hundreds of bad reviews to fix their image — meaning that they’ve seen and heard everything!!! keep going!!!): LINK

• EMAIL KOREAN JOURNALISTS/MEDIA: LINK 1 | LINK 2 | LINK 3

• TRUCK DONATIONS: LINK 1 | LINK 2

• BANNER DONATIONS / FUNDRAISERS: LINK

• EMAIL JBTC CHANNEL [one of the biggest news outlets in sk]: LINK

[yeokii]

WHAT CAN WE DO TO HELP HEESEUNG AND ENHYPEN? please read below.

hi guys, i redownloaded tumblr again just to make this statement but heeseung leaving enhypen has caught many of us off gaurd. i think everyone is devasted by this and yes i know everyone is thinking about a future with enhypen as six and honestly I don’t want that either.

i came here to spread awareness about what we could do as a fandom. please refer to this thread first of all.

link one — HEESEUNG did not make the decision to leave—he was kicked out of ENHYPEN.

this shows everything that adds up to heeseungs departure if anyone was also fishy about his sudden announcement like me. honestly, it makes sense.

but now that we are aware, what can we as engenes do? thankfully, twitter engenes made a thread of everything we could do from our side to fully support heeseung and bring him back.

link two — things you can do to help enhypen

sign the petition.

link three — template to email journalists about the situation.

link four — guidance on calling / faxing hybes investment companies !

link five — i found this account very helpful with keeping up with updates and finding out ways to help enhypen.

please sign the petitions ( as to my knowledge, we already have just over 500k ), rich engenes donate if you can. and most of all, do not stop talking about it.

this is genuinely the least we can do and it’s heartbreaking to me that we have to take action when their shitty company can’t do jack.

reblog this post, share it, do anything you can to raise awareness because this isn’t a simple decision you make, this is injustice.

tags : @mirukiu @isoobie @manariee @chrrific @perlleta @yeuvio @callikari @j4eyxn @jjwoned @murastqr @amatariki @coqhee @flwrstqr @bywons

please tag more people! reblog the post!

[aneiix]

i cry so hard im gonna miss you bambi 𝐄𝐧𝐡𝐲𝐩𝐞𝐧 𝐢𝐬 𝟕

[aneiix]

Look at me

Pairing:Jake x Fem!reader

Summary:Two voices, entwined since childhood, rise in a cosmos that prizes contrast over harmony. One has always looked, the other has always led. Through trials, scars, and staged battles designed by alien eyes, love is whispered in half-steps, in shared breaths, in the quiet moments between songs. When the final spotlight splits them apart, survival and victory are cruelly measured but devotion, unspoken yet absolute, endures beyond screens, rankings, and light itself. Warnings:angst,mention of death,Alien Stage Au,Jake is oblivious

This has been in my drafts for a long time,English is not my first language beware!⊹˚. ♡.𖥔 ہ ˖

The first time Jake held your hand, you were nine. 

You don’t even think he remembers. 

The training hall was too cold that day. Metal floors, fluorescent lights, instructors shouting about pitch and posture and survival like it was just another subject. You were shaking before your solo. Not because you were scared of singing. 

Because you were scared of losing. 

Jake had leaned over, casual as ever, and grabbed your hand like it was nothing. 

“Don’t look at them,” he whispered. “Look at me.” 

And you did. 

You’ve been looking at him ever since. 

Growing up beside him was easy. Loving him was easier. 

He would laugh too loud during breaks, steal your water bottle, throw an arm over your shoulders like you belonged there. Like you were safe. 

Like you were his. 

But never the way you wanted. 

He talked about the rankings like they were a game. About winning. About surviving the next round. About not being the one left kneeling under the spotlight when the votes dropped. 

He never talked about you. 

Not like that. 

Sometimes you wonder if he even knows the way your voice softens when you say his name. 

If he notices how you stand half a step closer to him than anyone else. 

If he realizes that every time the elimination screen flickers to life, you don’t pray for yourself. 

You pray for him. 

The aliens don’t believe in duos. 

They believe in contrast. 

In rivalry. 

In watching humans cling to each other just to tear them apart when it matters most. 

You and Jake were rarely paired. 

That was intentional. 

The producers knew tension sells better than harmony. 

You trained together. Ate together. Slept in the same dorm corridor under surveillance lights that never turned off. 

But on stage? 

You were competitors. 

Always separated by rankings. 

Always just close enough to reach. 

Never close enough to stay. 

Which is why when the announcement finally comes, it doesn’t feel like coincidence. 

It feels like a setup. 

The aliens call it entertainment. 

They sit high above the arena in their glass chambers, elongated silhouettes shifting in violet light. Their language crackles through the speakers in distorted tones that translate into cheerful announcements for the audience. 

“Round 47 Emotional Duet.” 

The crowd below human and alien alike roars. 

You and Jake are paired. 

For the first time this late in the competition. 

Not because you always are. 

But because they saved it. 

For when it would hurt the most. 

The producers say your harmonies are “organically compatible.” They don’t know it’s because you’ve memorized him. The way he inhales before high notes. The way his voice strains when he’s tired. The microsecond pause before he commits to a risky run. 

You adjust without thinking. 

You always have. 

Backstage, the ceiling hums with surveillance drones. 

Jake is tying the thin metallic ribbon around his wrist the one they give to top ranking contestants. It glows faintly blue. 

The faint scar under his jaw catches the light. 

Not from elimination. 

Elimination leaves nothing behind. 

It’s from discipline. 

Round Twelve. He argued with an instructor about vocal strain. Said they were pushing a contestant past safe range. 

The alien overseer didn’t like defiance. 

The electric baton left a thin silver line along his skin. 

He laughed it off later. 

“Looks cool, right?” he told you, tilting his head so you could see. 

You wanted to cry. 

Instead, you touched it gently and said, “Don’t do that again.” 

He grinned. 

“Worth it.” 

It wasn’t. 

You would have preferred he stayed silent. 

Alive. 

“You okay?” he asks now without looking at you. 

You nod. 

He finally glances over, frowning slightly. “You’ve been quiet.” 

You want to tell him you’re memorizing this version of him. 

The way the light catches in his hair. 

The scar he pretends doesn’t hurt. 

The way he always stands just slightly in front of you, unconsciously shielding you from the cameras. 

Instead, you smile. 

“I’m fine.” 

He studies you for a second longer than usual. 

And something flickers. 

The stage is built like a sacrificial altar. 

Circular. Elevated. Surrounded by vertical beams of alien script that pulse with each heartbeat of the music. 

When the lights dim, a holographic sky forms above you fractured stars bleeding into violet. 

The song starts soft. 

Your voice first. 

It trembles, just slightly. 

Not from fear. 

From the weight of knowing. 

Jake joins in on the second verse, his voice steady, powerful, reaching. 

The aliens love power. 

They love desperation even more. 

Halfway through the bridge, the screen behind you flashes live vote counts. 

Jake’s name climbs. 

Yours lags. 

You don’t look at it. 

You look at him. 

He’s singing toward the audience at first toward survival. 

Then he notices. 

You’re not projecting outward. 

You’re singing to him. 

Not dramatically. 

Not obviously. 

Just… intimately. 

Like the night you were nine. 

Like the practice hall lockdown. 

Like every quiet harmony you ever adjusted for him. 

His voice falters. 

Just barely. 

The audience interprets it as emotion the vote numbers spike.

He stares at you during the high note you’ve practiced for years. 

You don’t step forward to take center stage. 

You stay where you always do. 

Half a step behind him. 

Supporting. 

Choosing him. 

And suddenly he sees it. 

The way your hands shake only when he’s hurt. 

The way you celebrate his wins more than your own. 

The way you never once asked him to choose you over a ranking. 

You’ve already chosen. 

Every time. 

His chest tightens mid-lyric. 

He misses a breath. 

“Don’t-” he whispers under the music, barely audible. “Don’t look at me like that.” 

But you keep looking. 

Because if this is the last thing you ever do, you want it to be him. 

Final chorus. 

The lights burn white. 

The voting closes. 

Silence crashes down like a blade. 

Above you, the massive screen ignites

ROUND 47 

Y/N vs JAKE 

Two portraits. 

Side by side. 

The numbers climb in real time. 

Jake’s rises fast. 

Yours follows 

but slower. 

The aliens murmur in distorted delight. They love this part. Contrast,separation the almost. 

Jake finally sees the screen. 

His name pulls ahead. 

Only one survives. 

His breath stutters. 

“Don’t,” he whispers under the music not to you to the screen to the system to fate.

You keep singing. 

Looking at him. 

Not at the numbers. 

Because you already know. 

The final note rings out. 

Voting ends. 

For a split second, both portraits remain illuminated. 

Then

Your frame flickers. 

Glitches. 

Jake turns fully toward you now, panic blooming too late in his eyes. 

“No.” 

Your portrait shatters into light. 

Pixel by pixel. 

The image dissolves. 

The word ELIMINATED flashes over where your face used to be. 

Only Jake remains on the screen. 

Winner. 

The floor beneath you turns red

There is no second place announcement. 

There is no applause for you. 

Just removal. 

Jake grabs you before the mechanism activates. 

“They can’t it was close I don’t care, I don’t want it” 

Security drones hum to life above. 

The alien announcer speaks brightly: 

“Survival confirmed Jake” 

Survival. 

Not victory. 

He looks at you like he’s seeing you for the first time. 

Really seeing you. 

Not the harmony. 

Not the teammate. 

Not the competitor. 

You. 

You’re smiling. 

Soft devastating. 

“You told me once not to look at them,” you whisper. 

His fingers dig into your arms. “Don’t do this.” 

“Look at me.” 

He does. 

And suddenly everything rearranges in his mind. 

The way you never fought him for center stage. 

You were never trying to win against him. 

You were trying to make sure he did

His throat closes. 

“You- you were lowering yourself.” 

You don’t answer. 

You don’t need to. 

The platform begins to descend. 

He wraps his arms around you desperately. 

“I love you,” he says like it hurts like it’s being torn out of him too late. “I didn’t know. I didn’t know, I swear I didn’t.” 

You rest your forehead against his. 

“I know.” 

And that’s what breaks him. 

Because you always knew. 

The drones fire. 

Electric force slams into him, tearing him away as your platform drops. 

Your fingers slip. 

Your body falls into white light. 

Your portrait is already gone. 

Erased from the screen. 

Erased from the rankings. 

But not from him. 

They replay it for weeks. 

The moment your photo vanished. 

The way he screamed your name. 

The way he tried to jump after you. 

The aliens call it

“The most successful emotional spike in Alien Stage history.” 

He advances automatically to the final. 

Because he survived you

That’s how the system works

In the final round, there’s no one he loves across from him. 

No one adjusting half a step behind. 

No one looking at him like he’s worth surviving for. 

He wins. 

Of course he does. 

His portrait remains. 

The other contestant’s disappears. 

The crowd roars. 

The announcer declares him Champion. 

He stands alone under artificial stars. 

And for the first time

He doesn’t look at the audience. 

He doesn’t look at the ranking. 

He looks at the empty space beside him. 

Where your portrait should have been. 

Where you should have been. 

And he understands too late

You were never his rival. 

You were the reason he survived. 

The first time he held your hand, you were nine. 

He told you to look at him. 

You did. 

Until the very end. 

He just wishes

He had looked back sooner

Because if he had looked back sooner, you would have taken his hand beneath the burning stage lights and run not as competitors, not as sacrifices, but as two voices choosing each other over survival.

You would have slipped through the cracks of the system, found the rebels waiting in the dark beyond the arena walls, and learned what it meant to live without rankings, without screens, without someone measuring your worth in votes.

You would have woken beside him somewhere quiet no drones humming overhead, no alien eyes watching just the sound of shared breathing and a world that finally belonged to you both.

But he looked back too late.

By the time he understood, the light had already swallowed you. Your portrait was gone. Your name deleted from the rankings. The stage kept shining as if you had never stood on it at all.

So now he walks the same corridors you once did not as a contestant, not as a champion, but as something far more dangerous.

He finds the rebels in the shadows beyond the arena walls. He kneels not for survival, but for vengeance.

He joins them with your final note still ringing in his ears.

Every drone that falls is for you. Every shattered screen is for you. Every fire set beneath alien glass chambers is an apology he can never say again.

He could not run away with you.

So he will burn the stage that took you

[aneiix]

Weakness

Pairing:Gator Tillman x Nurse!Childhood friends! fem Reader

Summary: When you move back to town after years away, Gator Tillman starts appearing where you work, always with an excuse ready. What begins as coincidence and unfinished conversations slowly turns into something impossible to deny. Caught between the man he’s become and the boy you once knew, you wonder if some people were always meant to find their way back to you

Warnings: smut, possessive behavior, jealousy, emotional tension, mild violence (not directed at reader)

English is not my first language beware!⊹˚. ♡.𖥔 ہ ˖

mdni!!

You left when you were eleven.

A small town a loud house and the boy who learned too early how to be angry.

You didn’t say goodbye to Gator Tillman.

Now you’re back.

The hospital hasn’t changed much same peeling paint, same buzzing lights. Your badge says Nurse, and you wear it like armor.

You’re checking charts when the doors swing open.

Two deputies. One man in uniform between them.

Your breath catches.

Gator Tillman.

Police badge gun on his hip. Blood on his knuckles.

Still dangerous. Now official

He’s talking over one of the deputies, voice sharp and impatient. “I told you I’m fine.”

“Sit down,” the deputy says.

“I said I’m fine.”

Then Gator looks up.

And sees you.

His entire body stills.

Just for a second.

"You...” he says.

The deputy frowns. “You know her?”

“No,” Gator answers immediately.

“Yes,” you say, just as fast.

Silence.

The deputy sighs. “I’ll be outside.”

The door shuts.

Gator laughs quietly, shaking his head. “You gotta be kidding me.”

“You’re bleeding,” you say calmly, grabbing gloves.

“Been worse,” he replies. “Didn’t think you’d come back.”

“I didn’t think I’d see you in uniform,” you answer.

He smirks. “Guess I found a way to make trouble legal.”

You clean his knuckles. He watches your hands closely, like he’s memorizing them. Anyone else would’ve pulled away.

He doesn’t.

“You still afraid of me?” he asks suddenly.

You pause. “No.”

That surprises him.

“You should be,” he says. “I’m not a good man.”

You look up at him. “You never were. You were just a scared boy pretending.”

His jaw tightens.

“Careful,” he warns.

But his voice isn’t angry.

It’s quiet.

“You shouldn’t touch me like this,” he murmurs. “People talk.”

“Then don’t give them a reason,” you reply.

For a moment, his hand shifts hovering near yours he stops himself.

“You were always my problem,” Gator says softly. “Only thing I never figured out how to control.”

You finish bandaging him.

“Good,” you say. “Means you’re still human.”

The door opens.

Gator straightens instantly cop again. Cold. Sharp. Untouchable.

But as he passes you, his voice drops low.

“Don’t disappear again.”

And just like that

you know.

You’re his only weakness.

And he hates how much he needs you.

The first time, you tell yourself it’s a coincidence.

A deputy needs stitches. A drunk comes in with a busted nose. Paperwork follows uniforms everywhere.

So when you look up from the nurses’ station and see Gator Tillman leaning against the wall, arms crossed, badge catching the light

You don’t think much of it.

“Busy night?” you ask, professional.

“Always,” he replies. “You got a room open?”

You nod, lead him down the hall.

He doesn’t need to be there. You both know it.

The second time, it’s harder to ignore.

He’s standing near the vending machines this time, pretending to read a bulletin board that hasn’t been updated in years.

“You lost?” you ask.

He smirks. “Following up on a report.”

“Which report?”

“Confidential,” he says smoothly.

You roll your eyes and walk past him.

He follows

By the third time, the staff notices.

“That cop’s here a lot,” another nurse whispers.

“Yeah,” someone else adds. “Always asking for you.”

You pretend not to hear.

Gator sits in an exam room, perfectly fine, boot bouncing once against the floor.

“You injured?” you ask.

“Nope.”

“Then why are you here?”

He shrugs. “Paperwork.”

“You don’t need an exam room for paperwork.”

“Needed a chair.”

You step closer, lowering your voice. “You lying to me now?”

He meets your eyes, unblinking. “I lie to everyone.”

There it is.

Honesty, wrapped in arrogance Later, when you’re alone with him, he finally relaxes a fraction.

Not enough for anyone else to notice.

Enough for you.

“You shouldn’t come here like this,” you say quietly. “People talk.”

“Let them,” he replies. “I ain’t doing anything wrong.”

“You’re not doing anything at all,” you point out.

His jaw tightens.

“I just like knowing you’re here,” he admits then immediately adds, “For work reasons.”

You smile despite yourself. “Of course.”

He watches that smile like it’s dangerous.

“You still patching up guys worse than me?” he asks.

“Every day.”

His eyes darken. “Anyone hurt you?”

“No.”

“Good,” he says. Too quickly. Too sharp.

You step closer, lowering your voice. “Gator… why now?”

He hesitates.

“Because,” he says slowly, “last time you left, I didn’t know where to find you.”

Silence settles between you.

“I ain’t letting that happen again,” he adds. “Purely professional.”

You meet his gaze.

“Sure,” you say softly. “Officer Tillman.”

He stands, straightening his uniform. See you tomorrow,” he says.

You blink. “Tomorrow?”

He pauses at the door, looks back at you.

“If work requires it.”

And when he leaves, you realize something terrifying and true:

Gator Tillman isn’t here because of his badge.

He’s here because of you.

And sooner or later

he’s going to stop pretending otherwise.

The hospital is quiet in the way small towns always are.

Too quiet. Like everyone’s listening even when no one’s around.

You’re at the nurses’ station when one of the EMTs stops nearby, resting his elbows on the counter.

“You’re the new one, right?” he asks easily. “Haven’t seen you around before.”

You nod. “Transferred in.”

“Yeah? From where?”

You open your mouth to answer and feel it.

That pressure in the room. That familiar, dangerous stillness.

You turn.

Gator Tillman stands at the end of the hallway, uniform immaculate, eyes locked on the man in front of you. His jaw is set. His hand rests too close to his belt.

The EMT notices him too.

“Evening, officer,” he says, straightening.

Gator doesn’t answer right away. Is there a problem here?” Gator asks finally.

“No, sir just talking.”

Gator’s gaze flicks to you then back to him.

“Conversation’s over,” he says calmly. “Move along.”

The EMT doesn’t argue.

He leaves.

Fast.

You stare at Gator. “What was that?”

“Work,” he replies.

“That wasn’t work.”

“It was,” he says evenly. “You’re on shift.”

“So is he.”

Gator steps closer, lowering his voice. “He doesn’t need to be in your space.”

“I can decide that myself.”

“I know,” Gator says. “I don’t like it.”

The words slip out before he can stop them.

Silence stretches.

You watch him realize what he said.

“You’re jealous,” you say quietly.

His mouth tightens. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

“You stared him down like he pulled a gun.”

“He was getting comfortable.”

“That’s not a crime.”

“No,” Gator agrees. “But it leads to mistakes.”

You fold your arms. “You don’t get to control who talks to me.”

“I’m not controlling you,” he replies. “I’m controlling the situation.”

“That’s the same thing.”

His eyes darken.

“This place isn’t kind,” he says quietly. “People see softness and think it’s permission.”

“And you think you’re the solution?”

“I know I am.”

You take a breath. “You can’t scare everyone away.”

“I don’t plan to,” he says. “Just the ones who look too long.”

You look at him. Really look.

“You don’t do this with anyone else.”

“No,” he admits. “Just you.”

A pause.

Then his radio crackles.

Gator steps back instantly, mask sliding into place like it always does.

“Stay focused,” he says, voice neutral again. “This town doesn’t forgive distractions.”

He turns to leave.

At the doorway, he pauses just long enough to add:

“And if anyone makes you uncomfortable tell me.”

Then he’s gone.

It’s after midnight when it happens. The hospital parking lot is almost empty, lights buzzing overhead, snow crunching softly under your shoes. You pull your coat tighter around yourself, breath fogging the air.

You hear footsteps behind you. At first, you tell yourself it’s nothing.

Then they get closer. A hand grabs your arm.

You gasp, stumbling back, heart slamming against your ribs.

“Relax,” a voice slurs. “Just talking.”

“No,” you snap. “Let go.”

He doesn’t.

It happens so fast you don’t even register it at first.

The man’s hand is still on your arm

when headlights explode across the parking lot.

A patrol car skids to a stop.

For half a second your heart jumps into your throat.

Then the door opens.

And it’s Gator.

His patrol car.

His badge.

His problem.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

He’s out of the car before the engine even dies. He doesn’t wait for an answer. He grabs the man by the collar and slams him into the side of the cruiser so hard the metal dents.

“You blind?” Gator snarls. “Or just stupid?”

“I-I didn’t”

Gator punches him.

Once. The man drops to his knees.

“You ever touch her again,” Gator growls, crouching down, grabbing the man’s face, “and I will make your life hell”

Blood drips onto the asphalt.

You whisper his name, terrified. “Gator”

He doesn’t look at you.

He shoves the man away, hard enough that he hits the ground.

“Get up.”

The man scrambles to his feet.

“Run,” Gator says coldly. “And pray I forget your face.”

The man doesn’t hesitate he runs.

Silence.

Only the hum of the patrol car. The cold air. Your shaking breath.

Gator turns to you.

His knuckles are bleeding. His chest is heaving. His eyes are still burning with rage.

“Did he hurt you?” he demands.

You shake your head.

“Good,” he snaps. “Because if he did”

He stops himself jaw clenched

You step closer. “You were already here.”

He scoffs. “Yeah.”

“You weren’t on a call.”

“No.”

“You were watching.”

His eyes flick away.

“I drive past the hospital,” he mutters. “That’s all.”

You don’t believe him.

He looks back at you, voice low and rough.

“You’re safe,” Gator says. “That’s what matters.”

You swallow.

“You’re going to get yourself fired.”

He steps closer, crowding you, voice dangerous and sure.

“Let them try.”

And in that moment you understand:

That patrol car wasn’t there because of duty.

It was there because you were

He stares at you for a long second.

Something restless flickers behind his eyes.

“Come on” he says quietly.

You frown. “What?”

“Let’s go to my place.”

It’s not sharp not angry.

But it’s not optional either.

You hesitate.

The cold air bites at your skin. The hospital lights buzz overhead. Everything feels too exposed out here.

“Gator…”

“Please,” he adds, softer now. “Just… get in the car.”

That makes you look at him.

He never says please.

You don’t answer.

You just walk past him to his truck.

Your hand pauses on the door handle. For a second, you consider turning around.

Then you open it and get in.

The door shuts.

The drive is quiet.

Not hostile.

Just heavy.

The radio hums low some late night station playing slow, worn out love songs that feel almost ironic. Neither of you comment on it. The music fills the space where words are stuck.

Streetlights slide across his face in pieces. His jaw is tight. His hands steady on the wheel.

He doesn’t look at you.

You don’t look at him.

Snow crunches under the tires when he pulls into his driveway.

The engine dies.

Silence floods the truck.

He gets out first.

You follow.

Inside, the door closes with a dull thud that feels louder than it should.

The house is dim. Warm. Too small for the tension between you.

You don’t yell.

That’s what scares him You stand in his kitchen, arms crossed tight over your chest, eyes locked on the blood drying on his knuckles. He’s pacing like a caged animal, boots heavy against the floor

“You could’ve killed him,” you say quietly.

Gator scoffs. “He deserved it.”

“That’s not the point.”

“That’s exactly the point,” he snaps, spinning toward you. “He put his hands on you.”

“And you think that gives you the right to do whatever you want?”

“Yes.”

The answer is immediate. No hesitation no shame.

“You don’t get to decide that,” you say voice shaking now. “You don’t get to decide how far this goes.”

He steps closer. “You think I don’t know that?”

“Then why do you keep doing it?”

“Because it works,” he snarls. “Because you’re still standing here.”

That’s not fair.”

He laughs, sharp and humorless. “Nothing about me is fair.”

Silence crashes between you

“You scare me,” you admit. “Not like him like… like I don’t know where the line is with you.”

Gator’s jaw tightens.

“There is no line,” he says.

“That’s not okay.”

He’s right in front of you now. Too close you can smell the cold air on him, metal and blood and something darker.

“Then leave,” he says.

You don’t.

His eyes flick down to your mouth.

Something snaps.

He grabs you not rough, not gentle hands firm on your waist like he’s afraid you’ll disappear. His mouth crashes into yours, all teeth and heat and anger.

It’s not soft.

It’s not sweet.

It’s a kiss full of everything he doesn’t know how to say. You gasp against him, hands fisting in his jacket, heart pounding so loud it drowns out reason. He kisses you harder, like he’s trying to brand the feeling into you before you can take it back.

Then he pulls away suddenly.

Breathing hard.

His jaw clenches, eyes dark not confused controlled angry.

“Don’t,” he says low. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?” Like you think this is easy for me.”

You’re still close enough to feel his breath.

“I didn’t ask you to stop,” you say.

He lets out a sharp breath through his nose.

“This doesn’t end clean,” Gator says. “I don’t do clean.”

“I know.”

Silence.

Then, quieter dangerously honest

“I don’t know how to touch you without ruining you.”

You step closer instead of away.

“Then don’t pretend you didn’t want to.”

His hand comes up, gripping your jaw not painful, but firm. Possessive.

“I wanted to,” he admits. “That’s the problem.”

He leans in again, slower this time, mouth brushing yours like a warning instead of an attack.

“This is the line,” he murmurs. “And once we cross it”

You kiss him.

Harder.

He exhales against your mouth, grip tightening.

“there’s no going back,” he finishes. "so come on baby i know what you want" his voice turns lower, a gravelly rumble coming from deep within his chest

His hands found your thighs and effortlessly lifted you until your legs wrapped around his hips, your back pressing hard against the wall. His palms slid down to your ass, squeezing firmly, claiming, and a broken moan slipped from your lips.

“Yes,” he said lowly. “That’s the sound I want to hear.”

He carried you to the bed without hesitation and laid you down. His body hovered above yours, close enough that you could feel his heat, his eyes burning with desire and something darker he didn’t put into words.

His hands pushed your shirt up, exposing your bra, your skin meeting the cold air. He leaned down, pressing slow kisses from your collarbone down to your breasts.

“You’re so fucking hot,” he muttered, kissing one of them as you moaned softly. “This was always my dream you have always been my dream. ”

“Gator,” you murmured, breath hitching. You wanted him so badly it made your chest ache.

“Tell me you want me,” he said, voice rough between soft kisses to your neck as his hands cupped your breasts. “Say it like you mean it.”

“I want you to fuck me,” you breathed, fingers sliding into his hair.

“As you wish, angel.”

His hand slid lower, under the elastic of your pants, palm trailing slowly up your thigh. His heat was overwhelming. When his fingers brushed the damp lace of your panties, you winced, a broken whimper falling from your mouth.

“You’re soaked,” he murmured against the crook of your neck, pressing soft kisses there, his thumb dragging slowly along your thigh. “And that’s all because of me.”

“Yeah,” you whispered. “Just because of you.”

You pulled his face to yours, kissing him deeply. He moaned into the kiss, like your confession hit him harder than he expected.

He growled softly and dragged his fingers over your soaked folds through the fabric. “I’ve always imagined you,” he said. “And now you’re dripping because of my cock.” He moved down, spreading your legs and hooking your panties aside with two fingers, staring at you with unashamed hunger.

The first lick was slow and hungry, his tongue sliding all the way up your slit. His mouth moved like he was trying to ruin you. You moaned, hands tangling in his hair as your hips twitched upward, chasing every filthy flick of his tongue.

“Go on, angel,” he murmured. “Moan. That’s what I want to hear.”

He licked another stripe and pushed two fingers inside you. You squeezed his head between your thighs, but he didn’t mind he groaned, enjoying it.

He ate you like he was carving his name into your body, his thick fingers spreading you open, stretching you, filling you until you felt him everywhere, curling exactly where you needed it.

“Look at you,” he muttered, voice muffled. “Already falling apart, and I haven’t even fucked you yet.”

“Gator fuck yes oh my god,” you gasped, hands tight in his hair. “I’m so close.”

He lifted his head just enough, breath hot against you. “You close? Gonna come for me, angel?”

“I’m about to-”

Your orgasm hit hard, ripping through your body so sharply it almost hurt. A loud moan escaped you as your whole body bowed and shook, your head falling back into the pillow.

He leaned over you again, leaving marks along your skin like a signature.

Your hands fumbled with his belt, fingers trembling until you freed him. His cock was already hard, heavy. He pressed the thick tip against your entrance, teasing, making you whimper.

Then he pushed in slow, relentless stretching you inch by inch. You bit your lip to keep from crying out.

“Don’t,” he growled softly, kissing your neck, right over the marks he left.“I want to hear you.”

Your mind dissolved into static as your body arched greedily for more, even as you struggled to take all of him.

“Gator don’t stop,” you moaned.

“You’re squeezing me,” he murmured. “Like you’re trying to keep me inside forever.”

You cried his name, louder now, the sound filthy and desperate.

“Fuck, angel,” he breathed. “You sound beautiful.” Your body tightened again without warning, pleasure tipping into something feral.

“Fuck-”

He groaned, thrusting faster. “I’ve waited so long to make you mine.”

You came with his name on your lips, body trembling, and he followed soon after, pulling out just in time to spill over your thighs, groaning your name like a confession.

“So fucking perfect,” he murmured. “You know who you belong to now, don’t you? Tell me who owns you.”

“I’m yours, Gator.”

You wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him.

Morning came too quietly.

Pale light filtered through the thin curtains, landing across his bare shoulders. He was asleep, one arm heavy over your waist, breath slow and steady like nothing in the world could touch him.

You stared at the ceiling.

Your body still warm from him.

Carefully, you slipped out from under his arm.

He shifted but didn’t wake.

You found your clothes in pieces across the floor. Pulled them on slowly. Each movement felt heavier than it should.

You looked at him one last time.

He looked younger when he slept.

Less dangerous.

Less like a storm.

Your chest tightened.

You didn’t know what you were feeling.

It wasn’t regret.

But it wasn’t peace either.

It felt like standing too close to the edge of something high wind in your hair, heart racing knowing one wrong step would ruin you.

You grabbed your keys.

The front door clicked shut softly behind you.

The air outside was cold, sharp, grounding

The town was quiet. Frost coated the sidewalks, and your footsteps echoed lightly as you walked home. Each step grounded you, even as your chest still throbbed and your mind replayed last night.

The air was cold and sharp, cutting through the haze of heat and confusion you carried.

Being his felt intoxicating. And dangerous.

And the worst part?

You couldn’t tell if you were scared or addicted You notice it in the bathroom mirror while getting ready for work

Purple fading into red too high to hide properly.Hickeys Gator’s marks bruised your skin

You tug at your collar higher then higher then give up.

“Shit” you whisper, running a hand over your neck.

There’s no time to fix it no time to think. You grab your badge, your bag, and head out, pretending your heart isn’t still beating out of rhythm.

It doesn’t work.

At the nurses’ station, people glance at you twice

You’re laughing in hallway

Not loud not flirting just tired shift laughter at something stupid a paramedic says as he hands over paperwork.

“Careful,” he jokes. “Someone might think you’re enjoying this place.”

You smile. “Give it time.” That’s when you feel it.

The air shifts.

The laughter dies in your throat before you even see him.

Gator stands at the end of the corridor, arms crossed, jaw locked so tight it looks painful. His eyes flick from the paramedic’s face to his hand.

Which is still too close to you.

The paramedic notices him. “Oh hey, officer.”

Gator doesn’t answer.

He walks closer instead.

Slow. Deliberate. Every step controlled like he’s barely holding something back.

“You got business here?” Gator asks the paramedic.

“Just a transfer,” the guy says, uncomfortable now. “All good.” Gator steps between you and him.

Blocking you completely.

“Then take it somewhere else.”

The paramedic raises his hands slightly. “Alright, man no problem.”

He leaves.

Silence stretches.

“You done?” you ask quietly.

Gator turns on you.

“What the hell was that?”

“A conversation.”

“You were smiling.”

“Yes people do that.”

“Not like that.”

You glance around. “This is my workplace.”

“Yeah,” he snaps. “And I’m telling you you’re not being careful.”

“Careful about what?” you shoot back. “Looking alive?”

His eyes drop to your neck again.

The marks are still there.

Fresh.

His voice drops. “You think I put those there for decoration?”

“That’s not fair,” you say sharply. “You don’t get to control who talks to me.”

“I don’t control,” Gator growls.“I warn”

“You’re jealous.”

The word hits harder than a slap He leans in, voice low, furious. “You don’t belong to him.”

“I don’t belong to anyone.”

A beat.

His nostrils flare. “You shouldn’t say that to me.”

“Why?”

“because last night you said something different”

Your heart pounds.

“This doesn’t work if you act like this,” you whisper.

He stares at you like he’s deciding whether to explode or walk away.

“You walked back into my life,” Gator says finally. “You didn’t ask what it would cost.”

“That’s not my fault.”

“No,” he agrees coldly. “But it’s my problem.”

Someone calls your name down the hall.

You step back. “I have to go.”

He grabs your wrist fast, hard enough to make a point.

Then he releases you just as quickly.

“Don’t do that again,” he says.

“Don’t tell me what to do.”

His mouth twists into something dark.

“Yeah,” Gator murmurs. “We’re gonna talk about that.”

You walk away without looking back.

Behind you, Gator Tillman stands alone in the hallway

furious, possessive, and very aware that the worst part isn’t the jealousy.

It’s that he doesn’t know how to stop caring

You start taking different routes.

Different hallways. Different shifts if you can manage it. You leave rooms early, arrive late, keep your head down. When you feel his presence because you always do you turn the other way.

It’s not fear.

It’s uncertainty.

You don’t know what to do with the way he looks at you now. Like he’s already lost something and you’re the only proof it existed.

Gator notices.

Of course he does.

The third time you dodge him, he stops pretending.

You’re heading for the back exit when a hand grips the door before you can open it.

Hard.

“Stop.”

You freeze.

“Let go,” you say quietly.

“No.”

You turn. He’s close. Too close for a hallway, too close for work. His eyes are dark, jaw tight, something raw simmering under the surface.

“You think I don’t see you running?” he snaps.

“I’m not running.”

“You’re avoiding me.”

“Maybe I need space.”

He laughs once sharp, bitter. “You don’t get space with me.”

“That’s exactly the problem.”

Silence stretches between you. Then his voice drops. Loses its edge.

“You think this is easy for me?” he asks.

You don’t answer.

He steps closer anyway.

“I don’t do feelings,” Gator says. “I don’t talk about them i don’t ask.”

“I know.”

“But you?” His throat tightens. “You got under my skin when we were kids, and you never really left.”

Your breath catches.

“You’re my weak spot,” he continues, like it disgusts him. “And I hate that.”

“That doesn’t sound like-”

“Love?” he cuts in.“Yeah i know.”

He looks at you, eyes burning.

“I don’t know how to want you without fucking it up,” Gator says. “I don’t know how to be gentle. I just know that when you look at someone else”

He stops himself. Exhales hard.

“It makes me mean.”

You whisper, “That scares me.”

“It should,” he says honestly. Then, quieter“But I’d burn this whole town before I let anyone hurt you.” You search his face.

“You don’t get to own me,” you say softly.

“I know,” he replies. “But don’t pretend you don’t feel something too.”

You don’t deny it.

You just say, “I don’t know what it is yet.”

Something in his expression shifts not anger acceptance.

“Fine,” Gator says. “Figure it out.”

He steps back, giving you space for the first time.

“But don’t disappear on me,” he adds. “That’s the one thing I won’t forgive.”

You nod slowly.

“I won’t,” you promise.

He holds your gaze a moment longer.

Then he turns and walks away.

And you’re left standing there, heart racing, knowing one thing for certain

Whatever this is

It’s already too deep to ignore

You don’t plan it.

You just stop pretending.

You show up at his place late, heart pounding, knowing exactly how stupid this is and doing it anyway.

The door opens halfway.

Gator looks you over slowly, lazy, knowing. Like he already won.

“Couldn’t stay away,” he says.

You roll your eyes. “Don’t start.”

He steps aside, lets you in.

“You come here to talk,” he adds. “So talk.”

You turn to face him.

“I tried,” you say. “I tried to be smart i tried to keep distance i tried to convince myself this was just physical temporary.”

He leans against the counter, arms crossed, smirk tugging at his mouth.

“And?”

“And I hate every second I’m not around you,” you admit. “I hate how quiet everything feels. I hate that I look for you even when I shouldn’t.”

His smirk softens into something sharp and satisfied.

“Yeah,” Gator says. “I know.”

That pisses you off just enough to keep going.

“I love you,” you say. “And I don’t know how to do that without screwing myself over.”

He straightens.

Steps closer.

Slow. Confident.

“You’re telling me like it’s a confession,” he says. “It’s not.”

You frown. “What is it then?”

“It’s you finally catching up,” Gator replies.

He stops right in front of you, tilts your chin up with two fingers.

“You think I didn’t know?” he continues. “You don’t look at someone the way you look at me unless you’re already gone.”

“That’s not”

“I don’t need you to be scared,” he cuts in. “I need you to be honest.”

You swallow. “I am.”

A beat.

Then he smiles slow, arrogant, unmistakably Gator.

“I love you too,” he says. “And I don’t lose.”

Your heart stutters. “That’s not romantic.”

He shrugs. “It’s true.”

He leans in, forehead brushing yours.

“You’re not trapped,” he murmurs. “You’re choosing me. Big difference.”

“And if I regret it?”

He grins. “You won’t.”

You should argue.

Instead, you kiss him.

He kisses back like he always does sure, claiming, like he knew exactly how this would end.

When he pulls back, his thumb brushes your jaw.

“Told you,” Gator says quietly. “You were never walking away.”

And for the first time, you don’t want to.

For the first time, you don’t want to walk away.

But that doesn’t mean it’s easy.

The next morning the town feels different.

Not because anyone knows.

Because you do.

You walk into the hospital with your badge clipped on, posture straight, trying to remind yourself who you are outside of him.

Nurse. Independent. Not someone’s possession.

People still look at you. People always look.

But this time, you don’t flinch.

Because you made a choice.

Later that week, rumors start.

Small town. They always do.

“He’s been different lately.” “Tillman’s not picking fights.” “He left the bar early.”

You see it too.

He’s trying.

Not in loud ways. Not in romantic speeches.

But in restraint.

When someone mouths off about you at the bar, he doesn’t throw a punch.

He just stares.

And the guy apologizes.

When he shows up at the hospital now, he doesn’t hover. He doesn’t block people. He keeps distance.

For you.

That’s the part no one sees.

One night, after a long shift, you find him leaning against his truck again.

Hands in his pockets. Watching the sky like he’s fighting something internal.

“You stalking me?” you ask softly.

“Waiting,” he corrects.

You step closer.

“You don’t own me,” you say quietly.

“I know.”

“But you act like you’re scared I’ll disappear.”

His jaw tightens.

“Because you did,” he says.

There it is.

Not anger.

Not dominance.

Fear.

“You left when we were kids,” he continues. “Didn’t say goodbye. Didn’t look back.”

“I was eleven.”

“Didn’t matter,” he says. “You were the only thing in that house that didn’t feel like war.”

Your chest tightens.

“I thought you hated me for leaving,” you admit.

He huffs out a breath. “I hated that I didn’t matter enough for you to stay.”

Silence settles heavy between you.

“You mattered,” you whisper. “You just weren’t my responsibility.”

Something in him shifts at that.

“You’re still not,” you add. “I’m not here to fix you.”

“I don’t need fixing,” he mutters.

You raise an eyebrow.

He almost smiles.

Almost.

“I just need” He exhales. “I need to know you’re not gonna vanish when it gets hard.”

“I won’t,” you say. “But I’m not staying if you turn into someone I don’t recognize.”

He nods once.

That’s the agreement.

Not ownership. Not obsession.

A choice.

Weeks pass.

You fight. You make up. You push him when he gets territorial. He pushes you when you retreat.

But something changes.

The night someone tries to corner you again outside the hospital, Gator doesn’t explode.

He steps between you calmly. Calls it in by the book. No punches. No threats.

Later, in private, his hands shake.

“I wanted to break him,” he admits.

“But you didn’t.”

He looks at you like that costs him something.

“No.”

You cup his face gently.

“That’s the difference,” you say.

He rests his forehead against yours, breathing steadying.

“You’re my weak spot,” he murmurs.

“And you’re my choice,” you reply.

That lands deeper.

Because weak spots can be attacked.

Choices are deliberate.

Months later, the town still talks.

But now it’s different.

“They grew up together.” “She keeps him steady.” “He listens to her.”

You don’t tame Gator Tillman.

You don’t fix him.

You don’t save him.

You just refuse to be afraid of him.

And somehow

that’s what changes everything.

One evening, snow falling softly over the town you once ran from, he stands behind you on the porch of his house.

Arms around your waist. Not holding. Just there.

“You still think about leaving?” he asks quietly.

“Sometimes.”

He nods.

“You still think about burning the town down?” you ask.

A pause.

“Sometimes.”

You lean back into him.

“But we don’t,” you say.

“No,” he agrees. “We don’t.”

Because this time, staying isn’t about fear.

It’s about choosing each other.

And Gator Tillman may be dangerous.

He may be sharp. Possessive. Rough around every edge.

But when it comes to you?

He learns.

And that’s the only reason this story doesn’t end in flames.

It ends in something harder.

Something earned.

Love not because he owns you

Because in a town built on echoes of the past, in hearts hardened by storms, you found the courage to stand side by side.

And sometimes, that’s the most dangerous and most beautiful thing of all

[aneiix]

Last time you voted gator x reader and i planned to finish it and post it over the weekend, but i have to study for tests and we have a guest over the weekend, so I'll finish it during the week, if I have time I'll post it next weekend Thank you for your patience and I apologize 𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅

[aneiix]

Hi guys! I have like three fanfics sitting in my drafts right now

1.Gator Tillman(Childhood friends Nurse reader)

2.Eddie Munson(Single dad EddiexTeacher Reader)

3.Johnny storm(Reed’s assistant reader)

I wanted to ask which one you’d like me to finish and post first⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

Which one?

Gator Tillman

Eddie Munson

Johnny storm

Voting ended onFeb 16

[aneiix]

010.We don't have to make it weird

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have fun reading꩜ .ᐟ

Sorry for chapter after long time but i'm in my senior year so I had to study so i don't have that much time

taglist @jaeminnanaaa17 ,@notmastyle

Taglist open!𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅

[aneiix]

009.Morning after

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have fun reading꩜ .ᐟ

taglist @jaeminnanaaa17 ,@notmastyle

Taglist open!𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅

[aneiix]

008.Drunk more than alcohol

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Yeonjun’s house was full in a way that felt intentional.

Music bounced off the walls someone sat on the stairs,someone danced in the kitchen. The air smelled like alcohol and something sweet

You laughed more than you expected to

More than you probably should have.

“You’re drinking fast,” a voice said beside you.

Jaemin

He was leaning against the kitchen island, cup in hand,hair messy.Eyes darker than usual

“Are you monitoring me?” you asked

“Just… noticing,” he shrugged

“That sounds suspicious.”

He smiled,calm,nonchalantly like he always did.

The song changed,someone opened a window and cold air rushed in.

Before Jaemin could say anything else,someone stepped into the space between you.

Yeonjun

“Hey,”he said easily, eyes flicking to your cup“You look like you’re having fun”

“I am” you answered, a little too honest.

He laughed “Good that’s the whole point tonight”

He leaned closer than necessary voice just loud enough for you to hear.

“You should dance. You look like someone who forgets how to say no when the music’s good”

You smiled, swaying slightly.“Is that an offer?”

“Maybe,” Yeonjun said, playful“Unless someone already claimed you.”

Before you could answer, a hand closed gently around your wrist.

Jaemin again

“Hey,” he said tone light but firm.“I was borrowing her”

Yeonjun raised an eyebrow.“Borrowing?”

“Yeah”Jaemin replied,already guiding you back a step.“She needed air”

You let him pull you toward the hallway, your shoulder brushing his chest.

Behind you, Yeonjun laughed“Didn’t know there was a queue.”

Jaemin didn’t turn around

“She’s had enough attention for one night.”

Once you were out of the crowd, the noise softened your head felt lighter your chest heavier.

“You okay?” Jaemin asked quietly.

You nodded. “You jealous?”

He scoffed. “Don’t flatter yourself.”

But his hand stayed on your wrist a second longer than necessary.

The music thumped in the distance.

Neither of you moved.

You didn’t know who leaned in first.

Only that the kiss was messy alcohol soft,unplanned.

When you pulled apart,his forehead rested briefly against yours.

“This-” he started.

“It’s fine,” you said quickly“We’re just drunk”

He didn’t answer right away.

“Yeah,” he finally said. “Just drunk”

But his grip tightened slightly, like he didn’t believe it either.

The music grew louder the moment you stepped back into the living room.

Lights flashed someone laughed too hard someone spilled a drink and didn’t care.

You slipped away from the hallway and found Giselle near the couch, drink in hand, Yujin and Renjun sitting on the floor beside her.

“There you are”Giselle said immediately,eyes narrowing.“You disappeared.”

“Bathroom line” you lied smoothly,dropping down next to them.

Yujin glanced at you once, then twice“You okay?”

“Yeah” you said too quickly. “Just needed a minute”

Renjun tilted his head, studying you. He didn’t say anything just handed you a bottle of water.

“Drink this” he said.“Trust me”

You did

The cold grounded you a little,enough to breathe normally again,enough to ignore the way your wrist still felt warm where Jaemin’s hand had been

Across the room, you caught a glimpse of him near the kitchen.

He wasn’t looking at you.

Which somehow made it worse.

Giselle leaned closer, lowering her voice“Did something happen?”

You shook your head “Later.”

She nodded,instantly understanding no pressure,no questions.

The night went on

Laughter,music,familiar faces.

But every now and then, your eyes drifted back toward the hallway.

And every time they did, you wondered if he felt it too.

have fun reading꩜ .ᐟ

taglist @jaeminnanaaa17 ,@notmastyle

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[aneiix]

007.Closer than before

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The café was quiet for a weekday afternoon

Soft music, the low hum of conversations, sunlight spilling across the small table by the window.You wrapped your hands around your cup, watching the steam rise.

Jaemin sat across from you, jacket draped over the back of the chair, sleeves pushed up slightly.

“This place is nice”he said“didn’t know it existed”

“It’s kind of hidden”you smiled“I like it that way”

He nodded“Makes sense”

You sat in comfortable silence for a moment not awkward not forced,just…easy

“You seem calmer” he said suddenly

You looked up“do i?”

“Yeah” he replied“like you’re more settled”

You thought about it,about your apartment your friends mornings without rushing.

“Maybe I am”

His gaze lingered soft, thoughtful not the usual nonchalant look something warmer underneath

When the waiter brings your drinks, Jaemin reached for his wallet at the same time you did

“I’ve got it”he said

“You don’t have to”

“I want to”

You hesitated,then nodded“Okay thank you”

Your fingers brushed again as he passed you the cup

This time, neither of you apologized

Outside, you walked slowly, neither of you in a hurry to leave

“You staying at Mark’s again soon?” Jaemin asked, carefully neutral. “Maybe”you said“You live with him now,so… if he lets me”

“He always does”Jaemin smiled“and so do i”

You both stopped at the corner

For a moment, it felt like something was about to happen a step closer,a touch, a decision

Instead,he just said,“I’m glad we did this”

“Me too” you replied

You waved goodbye, and he lingered for a moment, watching you walk toward your building.You felt his gaze follow you, and a warm shiver ran down your spine.

 Somehow, even from a distance, it felt like you were still connected a quiet pull between you, unspoken but undeniable.

 You both carried that moment with you, each step echoing the same thought

you wanted it to last just a little longer.

This is the last chapter I prepared in advance, so I'll try to do more during school.

have fun reading꩜ .ᐟ

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[aneiix]

006.Morning light

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I'll post what I already have ready because school starts for me in two days and I won't have that much time

have fun reading꩜ .ᐟ

taglist @jaeminnanaaa17 ,@notmastyle

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[aneiix]

005.Brushed fingertips

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Mark’s apartment felt different at night.

Quieter than you expected soft lights,low music playing somewhere in the background, the city humming faintly through the windows.

You kicked off your shoes shoes by the door, shrugging out of your jacket. “You still live like a minimalist”you commented

Mark glanced up from the kitchen“Says the girl whose place is full of plants”

“They’re not clutter”you replied.“they’re vibes”

He laughed, tossing you a glass of water. “Make yourself at home couch or guest room?”

“Couch is fine,”you said easily.“I’ll probably fall asleep before midnight anyway”

“That’s a lie”

“Okay,”you smiled.“But a comforting one.”

You curled up on the couch, pulling the blanket over your legs while Mark disappeared back into the kitchen

That was when you heard the door open

Footsteps

“Hey”a familiar voice said

you looked up

Jaemin

He paused when he saw you, just for a second the same half beat as last time.Enough to notice not enough to comment on

“Oh”he said“Didn’t know you were staying over”

“Surprise”you replied lightly

Mark walked back in oblivious“She’s crashing here tonight you good with that?”

Jaemin shrugged“Yeah of course”

He dropped his bag by the wall and leaned against the counter, arms crossed, gaze flicking back to you without meaning to or maybe meaning to just a little.

You sat together on the couch later, some random movie playing that neither of you were really watching

Mark was stretched out on the other end, half focused on his phone,Jaemin sat closer than necessary shoulder just barely brushing yours whenever he shifted

Not enough to be obvious

Enough to feel

At one point,you reached for the bowl of snacks at the same time he did

your fingers brushed just briefly

“Sorry” he said quietly

It’s okay”you answered just as softly

Their eyes met held for a fraction longer than normal

Then Mark laughed at something on the screen the moment broke

Jaemin leaned back creating a little space again casual normal

But later, when Mark stood up to grab another drink, Jaemin turned his head slightly toward you

“Still can’t sleep early?” he asked

You smiled“Still asking obvious questions?“

He huffed a quiet laugh“Fair”

Another pause

“Good to see you”he added“Like this comfortable”

Your chest tightened just a little

“Yeah”you said“You too”

Mark came back then flopping onto the couch“I’m calling it i’m tired”

Jaemin stood up“Same”

You adjusted the blanket around yourself, suddenly aware of how close the night felt

“Night” Mark said

“Goodnight”you replied

Jaemin lingered for half a second longer by the hallway

“Night” he said to you softer than necessary

“Night Jaemin”

The door to his room closed

You lay there staring at the ceiling, heart steady but alert, replaying nothing specific just the feeling

Nothing had happened and somehow, that made it worse.

I'm really enjoying writing this smau I have two more chapters written have fun reading꩜ .ᐟ

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[aneiix]

Our final play

Pairing-Coach!Steve Harrington xSingle mother!Fem!reader

Summary:When Steve became your son’s coach, you never expected him to change your life off the field. What starts as casual conversations and fleeting glances slowly turns into something more an unexpected connection that grows stronger with every shared moment. Soon, you realize you’re not just a team on the field… you’re a team in life

Warnings:FINALE SPOILERS, takes place in the epilogue,Fluff,Angst enjoy reading.English is not my first language beware!⊹˚. ♡.𖥔 ہ ˖

After everything calmed down in Hawkins, you came back

Not because the town suddenly felt small again, but because it finally felt safe quiet. Like a place where a little boy could grow up without learning how to be afraid too early

You hadn’t planned to return for a long time, even the thought of this place made your chest tighten. But years ago when you were still young, scared, and far from ready for the life that suddenly depended on you everything changed

Your ex had gotten you pregnant you were barely old enough to understand what that meant, let alone know what to do about it. There were nights you cried quietly so no one would hear you, hands pressed to your stomach, wondering how love could turn into something that felt like a trap.He was supposed to stay he was supposed to help Instead, you were left alone with fear and a decision that felt too big for your hands

So you ran

You left him you left the promises you left with Alex in your arms, heart breaking and rebuilding itself at the same time. Every step away from that life felt like both a failure and an act of survival. You didn’t know if you were doing the right thing but you knew staying would destroy you

You wanted him to have what you never did safety laughter a childhood untouched by regret and raised voices and things a child should never witness

You wanted him to be happy

That’s how Alex ends up on a dusty baseball field on a warm afternoon, glove too big for his hand, cap slipping down over his eyes laughing,unafraid,alive in a way that makes your chest ache when you watch him

And for the first time in a long while, you allow yourself to believe you did the right thing. Your chest feels lighter as you watch Alex play, unaware that this small, ordinary afternoon is about to change everything

And that’s how you meet Steve Harrington

He’s standing near the dugout, hands on his hips, sunglasses pushed up into his hair, voice carrying easily across the field

“Okay Tigers  listen up! Rule number one baseball is supposed to be fun,rule number two if you throw dirt at your teammate again, you’re running laps”

Alex’s eyes light up instantly.

“Mom” he whispers, tugging on your sleeve“He’s cool”

You smile “You haven’t even played yet”

“He has good hair” Alex says seriously

You snort before you can stop yourself

Steve turns at the sound and then he’s walking toward you.

Up close,he looks… different than you remember. Softer around the edges older in a good way. Still ridiculously handsome, unfortunately.

“Hey” he says easily. “You must be Alex’s mom”

Steve doesn’t remember you from high school.

You were never the kind of girl people noticed back then. Always quiet sitting near the back of the classroom, keeping your head down trying not to take up too much space in a world that already felt too loud. While Steve Harrington was impossible to miss laughter echoing through hallways, hair perfect, surrounded by people you were the opposite easy to overlook easy to forget.

You nod a little unsure but smiling anyway“yeah i am”

Steve smiles rubbing the back of his neck“He’s got a good arm and and he has a kind heart, he get it from you?“

Alex beams“Coach Steve said if I practice, I can play shortstop”

Steve points at him. “See? Already spreading lies”

You raise an eyebrow. “Lies? he didn’t get that from me”

“I said maybe” he corrects grinning

There’s something playful in the way he looks at you like he’s already enjoying this more than he should

Practice starts, and you watch from the bleachers as Steve kneels, encourages, jokes, high-fives every kid like it actually matters

Alex runs over halfway through, breathless

“Mom” he whispers loudly,“Coach Steve says I have a strong arm”

Steve, standing behind him adds,“It’s true. Kid’s got potential”

You glance up at him“Bias?”

“Only a little” Steve says. “he listens more than others”

Alex squints up at him“Do you live here?”

Steve laughs“Yeah, buddy born and raised”

Alex nods thoughtfully then turns back to you

“I think Coach Steve is nice,” he declares“and brave and he brings snacks”

Steve presses a hand to his chest.“Wow that’s the highest praise I’ve ever received”

You shake your head,smiling. “he’s already a fan”

Steve lowers his voice just a little“Guess that means I gotta keep impressing you too, huh?”

Your stomach flips

“Guess so” you reply lightly

Steve grins“Challenge accepted”

As practice ends, Alex runs ahead toward the car, talking nonstop about drills and wins and how Coach Steve throws really far

Steve walks beside you, hands in his pockets

“So” he says casually“same time next week?”

“Yeah,”you say.“we’ll be here”

He hesitates,then smiles softer“Good i like having you guys around”

Alex turns around suddenly“Mom?”

“Yes baby?”

“I think Coach Steve should come to dinner sometime”

Steve chokes on a laugh

You freeze

Alex shrugs“So he can teach me baseball better”

Steve clears his throat. “Uh i mean i do give private lessons”

You laugh warmth spreading through you“we’ll see”

Steve watches you for a second longer than necessary

A slow unfolding warmth,light teasing tiny moments that whisper of something deeper yet to come

And for the first time since you came back to Hawkins it feels like the beginning of something good

You don’t realize it’s happening at first

It’s just comments little observations the kind only a kid would make without thinking twice

“Mom” Alex says from the backseat on the drive home“Coach Steve smells nice”

You almost miss a turn

“That’s… not something we comment on” you say carefully

“He does” Alex insists. “like laundry and gum”

You clear your throat“Okay”

The next practice is hotter louder, Steve’s in a sleeveless shirt this time, whistle hanging loose around his neck

“Mom” he stage whispers from the bench“Coach Steve has muscles”

Steve hears it you know he does, because his ears turn red

“Buddy” Steve says, trying to stay professional“focus on the ball”

Alex grins“I am”

Practice ends late the other parents leave one by one until it’s just you,Alex and Steve collecting cones

Alex drops his glove at your feet

“I forgot my water bottle”he announces“I’m gonna get it”

You open your mouth to stop him you open your mouth to stop him,too late he’s gone

Steve straightens slowly“Kids”he says lightly

You laugh rubbing the back of your neck“He talks a lot”

“I don’t mind” Steve replies. Then, softer“he’s… a good kid”

Something about the way he says it makes your chest warm there’s a beat of silence.

Then Steve glances at you“So uh Alex mentioned you just moved back?”

“Yeah fresh start”

He nods“Hawkins does that sneaks up on you”

Alex comes sprinting back,“Coach Steve! ”he says loudly“Do you have a girlfriend?”

You freeze Steve coughs hard

“Wow” he mutters“Just going straight for it,huh?”

Alex shrugs“Mom doesn't have a boyfriend”

you stare at the sky“Alex”

Steve laughs soft surprised “No, buddy i am single”

Alex nods, satisfied“Okay”

You know he's up to something but you can't figure out what

Then he grabs your hand“Can Coach Steve come to the fair with us?”

Steve blinks “The fair?”

Alex looks between you. “You both like corn dogs”

Steve smiles despite himself “He’s not wrong”

You sigh,but you’re smiling "We'll see you don't know if he has something to do."

Steve meets your eyes.

That playful spark is there again but gentler now.

“Accidentally”he says quietly“he might be the best wingman I’ve ever had and luckily, i have nothing to do”

You laugh “He doesn’t even know what that means”

Steve’s grin softens“Yeah but he knows what he wants”

Alex beams and somehow without meaning to so do you realizing he’s already scheming to get you and Steve together.

The Hawkins Fair is louder than you remember

Lights blink in uneven rhythms,music clashes from different directions and the smell of fried food hangs thick in the air.Alex grips your hand like he might float away if he lets go.

Steve meets you near the entrance, baseball cap low hands shoved into his jacket pockets like he didn’t overthink this

“Hey”he says, smiling when he sees you“you made it”

Alex lets go of your hand immediately and runs straight to him “Coach Steve! they have a giant slide!”

Steve laughs“I figured you’d spot that first”

You step closer“Thanks for coming”

He shrugs, casual but his eyes linger “Couldn’t miss it your kid invited me”

Alex nods seriously“You like corn dogs that means you belong here”

Steve points at him“See? can’t argue with logic like that”

You end up waling together as a family without really deciding to.

Steve buys the corn dogs.Alex insists Steve has to try the lemonade you trail behind them, watching Steve crouch down to Alex’s level, listening like every word matters.

It does

At one point Alex tugs on Steve’s sleeve“Do you get scared on rides?”

Steve raises an eyebrow“Me? never”

Alex grins wickedly“Good because mom does”

You glare at your son“I do not”

Steve’s smile turns playful“Oh?guess we’ll have to test that”

Before you can protest, Alex is dragging both of you toward the Ferris wheel.

The seat rocks slightly as it lifts Alex sits between you at first, feet swinging.Steve’s knee brushes yours when the wheel stops briefly at the top

Alex gasps“Whoa”

Steve leans forward“Pretty cool huh?”

Alex nods, then looks between you. “I’m hungry”

 “You just ate” you say

“But I want cotton candy,” he insists“I’m gonna get some”

The attendant doesn’t wait for your response before opening the gate at the bottom

Alex hops out and the wheel starts moving again

You freeze. “Steve”

“It’s okay,”he says quickly.“we’ll be down in a minute”

The seat sways gently and suddenly the space feels smaller now

Steve clears his throat“So this is nice view, isn't it”

You smile“It is”

Below you Hawkins glows normal alive.

Steve glances at you“Alex’s a great kid” your chest tightens“He is”

There’s a pause then softer“You’re doing a good job”

The words hit harder than you expect “thank you”you say quietly

The wheel slows stops

Alex is waiting at the gate,cotton candy already stuck to his finger

“You guys were gone forever” he says suspiciously,Steve laughs“Time works different up there”

You cross your arms,giving him a pointed look“Alex no more running off got it?”He nods quickly, a sheepish grin on his face“Okay i won’t”

Later,as fireworks crackle overhead Alex leans sleepily against Steve’s side without thinking about it.

 Steve stiffens then relaxes,his hand comes up instinctively steadying Alex

You watch it happen,the way Steve doesn’t even question it

Steve looks at you a little surprised himself“Hope that’s okay”

You smile softly“It is”

Alex yawns“Coach Steve?”

“Yeah buddy?”

“Can you come again next time?”Steve glances at you,this time you don’t hesitate

“Yeah” you say“i think he can”

Steve smiles slow real

And accidentally something settles into place.

It happens on a Tuesday those are always the worst

The bleachers are warm from the sun wood creaking beneath you as you shift your weight,Alex is on the field,helmet slightly crooked laughing too loud as he runs for first base

You’re folding and unfolding a piece of paper in your hands when you see him

You recognize the walk before the face

Your chest tightens

Alex’s father stands near the fence, arms crossed cigarette burning between his fingers like he owns the place

You hadn’t known he was back in Hawkins “Alex!” he calls,your stomach drops

Steve notices immediately,not because you say anything but because your posture changes the way your shoulders draw in,the way your eyes stop following the game

He jogs over casual but alert“Everything okay?”

You nod too quickly,“Yeah”

But your ex is already walking closer

“You didn’t think I’d find out?” he says quietly“bringing my kid back here like that”

You stand“This isn’t the time”

“You don’t get to decide that”he snaps“you don’t get to decide anything anymore”

Steve steps between you before you even realize he’s moved “This is a kid’s practice” Steve says evenly“You need to leave”

Your ex laughs“Who the hell are you?”

“The coach”Steve replies“And the guy telling you to back off”

“This isn’t your business”

Steve doesn’t raise his voice doesn’t puff his chest“She said no”he says simply“That makes it my business”

Your ex scoffs, glancing at you“Always hiding behind someone”

Steve shifts just enough that you’re fully behind him now “She’s not hiding” he says“She’s protecting her kid”

There’s a long, ugly silence,then your ex flicks his cigarette to the dirt“This isn’t over”

Steve doesn’t blink. “It is today.”

Your ex turns and walks away the field feels quieter after.

Your knees wobble the second he’s gone Steve turns around immediately“Hey”

You shake your head eyes burning“I hate that he can still show up and make everything feel like it used to”

Steve’s voice softens“That doesn’t mean he still has power”

You laugh weakly“Feels like it”

He hesitates then rests a hand lightly on your arm grounding“You left”he says“you came back for Alex, that’s strength”

your breath catches“I don’t always feel strong” you admit

he nods“Me neither”

Alex runs up a moment later helmet under his arm“Coach Steve!did you see my hit?”

Steve smiles immediately“Best one today”

Alex beams, then looks at you“Mom?”

You wipe your eyes quickly “I’m okay”Steve watches you like he knows it’s not entirely true but also knows you will be

and for the first time in a long time,you don’t feel alone standing there.

It’s later that night

Hawkins is quiet in that heavy way it gets after sunset, when the cicadas take over and the air finally cools.You’re sitting on your porch steps knees drawn in,watching Alex sleep through the open window

you noticed the car pull up headlights cutting through the twilight Steve stepped out, stretching for a moment before walking up the walkway and pausing at the bottom of the steps.

he hesitates there before sitting beside you.

“You didn’t have to come”you say softly

“I know”he replies“i wanted to”

there’s a long stretch of silence the good kind,the kind that lets things settle

Steve rubs his palms together once nervous

“I keep thinking about earlier” he says“About him”

your shoulders tense automatically“I’m sorry you had to see that” you murmur

he shakes his head“ It's okay,it's not your fault he came, don't apologize”

You glance at him

“I mean i hate that it happened” he corrects himself“but I'm glad I was there to help you”

you put your hands in your lap “sorry I forgot to thank you for that in shock thank you so much it means a lot to me”

the porch light hums quietly above you

“I don’t usually get involved”Steve continues“Not like that i learned a long time ago that caring too much… kinda wrecks you”

your chest tightens

“So why did you?” you ask,he doesn’t answer right away

then, quietly“Because when i saw him talking to you like that, something in me snapped”

you swallow

“I didn’t think” Steve admits“i just knew he didn’t get to scare you not anymore”

you look down at your hands“I don’t want you dragged into my mess”

Steve turns toward you fully “It’s not a mess”he says“it’s your life”

He exhales slowly“And I care about you,about Alex”

The words hang between you

“I care more than a coach should” he adds almost apologetic“more than i meant to”

your heart pounds

“Steve…”

“I’m not asking for anything” he says quickly“I just needed you to know in case you thought I stepped in because I felt obligated”

you shake your head“I didn’t think that”

he smiles faintly“Good”

another pause

then he says, softer“You make Hawkins feel different,like staying here actually means something”

emotion swells in your chest sudden and sharp

you lean closer without thinking, your shoulder brushing his “Thank you”you whisper “for being there for… seeing me”

Steve’s voice drops“Always”

through the window, Alex shifts in his sleep Steve glances up, then back at you“He’s a good kid”

you smile“Yeah he is”

Steve hesitates then admits the rest“I could get used to this”he says quietly“us even if it’s just… sitting here”

You meet his eyes

“So could i”

he smiles soft hopeful a little scared

and for the first time since you came back to Hawkins

it feels like something real is starting.

The porch feels smaller now not crowded, just full of words said and words waiting

Steve looks at you like he’s afraid he’s already said too much,“I shouldn’t have dumped that on you”he murmurs“i just”

“Steve”you interrupt him gently

he stops, and his eyes find yours soft and tentative lingering a moment too long,like he’s hoping you’ll stay close and maybe a little closer than usual

you take a breath slow and steady, like you’re bracing yourself for a wave you already see coming

“I need to say something too” you say

his jaw tightens not in fear but anticipation

“I’ve been trying not to” you admit“because my life hasn’t exactly been… simple and Alex always comes first”

“I know”Steve says immediately“i’d never-”

“I know” you repeat softer“that’s not what scares me”

you look down at your hands then back up at him

“What scares me”you continue“is how safe I feel around you”

Steve’s breath catches

“I didn’t plan for it” you say quietly“i didn’t want to need anyone but you show up you stay calm you make Alex laugh and when you stood between me and him today…”

your voice wavers

“I realized i already care a lot”

Steve doesn’t move doesn’t interrupt like he knows this moment matters too much

“I feel something for you” you say“i just didn’t know if I was allowed to”

he swallows“you are”

the words are simple

they undo you anyway

You laugh softly breath shaking“I don’t want to rush anything”

“I won’t” Steve promises“i swear”

the silence that follows isn’t awkward

it’s charged

your shoulder brushes his again,this time neither of you pulls away

Steve’s voice drops“Can I…?”

you don’t let him finish you lean in first

the kiss is gentle careful like you’re both learning the shape of something new,Steve freezes for half a second then his hand comes up to your jaw, thumb warm against your cheek

He kisses you back slowly no hunger no urgency just relief

when you pull away, your foreheads rest together breaths mingling

Steve laughs quietly, almost in disbelief“Okay”

you smile“Okay?”

“Yeah”he says“That was yeah”you laugh tears threatening again

from insidea floorboard creaks you both freeze

Steve whispers“If Alex walks out right now”

“He will” you whisper back

right on cue, Alex’s sleepy voice drifts from the doorway“Mom?”

you pull back just enough“Hey baby”

Alex squints at the two of you, then yawns“Coach Steve?”

Alex nods once satisfied“Okay”

and just like that he turns and shuffles back inside

you and Steve stare at each other then you both start laughing quietly, shoulders shaking

Steve wipes your eyes“Guess that’s his approval”

you lean back against him heart full

you’d known somehow  that Alex had been trying to get you two together and now, seeing this you realize he actually did

“guess so”you murmur

the porch light hums Hawkins sleepsand with him beside you the world doesn’t seem so big anymore.

It happens by accident that feels right somehow

Steve’s kneeling in the driveway trying to fix Alex’s bike for the third time because the chain keeps slipping,his sleeves are rolled up, hair a mess and grease on his hands

Alex hovers nearby, impatient “Steve”he says“you’re doing it wrong”

Steve snorts“Hey i am doing my best buddy”

Alex sighs dramatically, then looks toward the house

“Mom”he calls“dad says the bike’s broken again”

The world stops Steve freezes

the wrench slips from his hand and clatters onto the concrete

you step out onto the porch slowly, heart already pounding because you heard it too

Alex blinks and looks between the two of you

“Oh”he says“was that not-”

Steve swallows hard eyes shiny in a way that makes your chest ache “Alex” he says gently“you don’t have to”

“I want to”Alex interrupts suddenly serious“you stay,you help, you come to my games and help me to improve,you make pancakes”

Steve laughs weakly. “That’s a pretty strong argument”

Alex nods“So dad?”

Steve looks at you then not asking just checking

you nod tears in your eyes“If that’s what you want”

Steve exhales like something heavy finally leaves his chest he pulls Alex into a hug careful but fierce

“Yeah” he whispers“I’d really like that”

Alex hugs him back just as tight“Okay dad”

You watch them from the porch, one hand over your heart knowing absolutely knowing

Steve’s arms are still wrapped around Alex when you realize it

This isn’t fragile this isn’t temporary,this is your life

you lean against the porch railing, watching them laugh over the bike like it’s the most important thing in the world Steve listens Alex talks,neither of them is going anywhere

for the first time in a long time, your chest doesn’t feel tight It feels full

you used to think love had to be loud complicated something you fought for

but this?this is quiet steady safe

you have a child who trusts you a man who chooses you home filled with love and small moments that add up to something real

Steve looks up and catches you watching he smiles soft,warm, yours

“Come here” he says

you step off the porch and walk over to them Alex padding along beside you,grinning up at Steve

Steve cups your face gently, forehead resting against yours“You happy?”

“Yeah” you say“i really am”

he kisses you slow and certain

You finally have what you always wanted not perfection not a fairytale

But love that stays a family that chose each other and a life that feels like it finally belongs to you

moving back to Hawkins…it wasn’t so bad after all

[aneiix]

004.Afternoons like this

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The apartment felt warmer than usual.Not because of the heater it was the laughter, the shoes kicked off by the door, the familiar noise filling the space like it belonged there.

Giselle was already curled up on the couch, phone in hand, scrolling through something she absolutely had to show everyone"Wait, wait,” she said, laughing. “you have to see this.”

Yujin dropped down next to her, legs crossed on the floor, drink balanced carefully in her hands. “If it’s another video of a dog doing something illegal, I swear”

“It is,” Giselle grinned. “but this one’s personal"

Renjun hovered near the window, poking at one of your plants. “You water these too much,” he commented casually. “they’re stressed.”

“They’re thriving,” you shot back, smiling as you handed Chenle a plate of snacks.

Chenle immediately started eating no hesitation. “Best host award,” he said around a mouthful. “as always.”

you leaned against the counter, watching them all settle in like it was second nature. No awkwardness no performing just comfort.

“This place suits you,” Yujin said suddenly, glancing around. “Feels… very you.”You shrugged. “Quiet small mine.”

Giselle looked up from her phone, eyes narrowing slightly. “You say that like it’s new.

“Maybe it is,” you replied.

Renjun turned, catching the tone shift instantly. “Something happen?”You hesitated for half a second then shook your head.

“Nothing bad. Just… familiar things coming back.”

They didn’t push they never did.Instead, Chenle reached for the aux cord. “Okay but what’s the vibe? Sad girl autumn or delusional main character?“

“Neither,” you said. “Just… normal.”

Giselle smiled softly. “Normal can still mean something.”

Music filled the room soft easy,the kind that didn’t demand attention.You sank onto the couch between them, shoulders relaxing.For the first time all day, your phone was left face down on the table.

And for now that was enough.

taglist @jaeminnanaaa17 ,@notmastyle Taglist open!𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅

[aneiix]

003 Quiet apartments

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I really enjoy doing this!^^that's why I've already done three chapters today, I hope you enjoy it