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scuderiahoney · 1 month

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Oscar Piastri x reader // in motion part 3

hockey au part 3: a walk in near the park, a surprising team photo, and the semester comes to a close. 6.2k words

warnings: mentions of sports injury, mentions of bullying, alcohol, academic stress, final exams

Oscar has spent a lot of his life on the move. He moved to the US from Australia for high school at a pretty young age, just to try and play hockey. Looking back, it sounds crazy. What’s even crazier is that it actually worked. He’d play for club teams and in leagues and travel absolutely anywhere if it gave him time on the ice. And then he ended up on a college team and stayed put for two years, and honestly, it felt strange.

Over that time, he got good at putting things in boxes. Keeping life organized. Not so much in a sense of clutter and things having a place- his room is a mess, there’s laundry to be done, and his hockey locker is a disaster- but more so in his head. His friendships and relationships get categorized, information filed away, grouped together. Not by importance or value, but by… context. Hockey friends in one box. Family in another. People like coaches and managers and executives in a third. Moving somewhere new always shakes the boxes up.

By late November, though, Oscar’s feeling a little bit more comfortable in his own skin. He’s found his place in the team, he has weekly lunches with teammates, and he’s even made some friends outside of hockey. His old coach, Mark, says that’s a big piece of it. That it’s good to have something other than sport, just in case it all falls apart, or it doesn’t work out. People to fall back on who aren’t just there for hockey.

Oscar wants to say that his teammates would still be friends with him even if he stopped playing, for some reason, but the truth is that he’s been burned by other overly ambitious hockey kids way too often to truly believe it. That’s half the reason he’s on the Timberwolves now, why he left his old school and team behind. Things feel better here. Lando has an old friend who used to play hockey who still hangs around the house sometimes- Max, the other Max. (Oscar doesn’t call him that to his face.) So maybe Lando at least wouldn’t ditch him if he quit.

And then there’s you, too. Oscar’s not quite sure when you went from being an enigma he struggled to place into one of his carefully organized boxes in his head to, well, this.

You’re sitting across from him at the dining table in his house, one finger tracing the words in the textbook in front of you. You have a TimTam in your other hand-you seem to have developed a fondness for them, the same way that Oscar seems to have developed a fondness for you. The late afternoon sun is shining into the room through the sliding glass door and onto you. Oscar shakes his head to try to clear it.

As he does, you groan and drop your face into the textbook with a solid thud- he winces. “I hate physics.”

He holds back a laugh, because he knows you genuinely are frustrated. “Does slamming your face on the words help?”

You shrug. “Maybe, if I just sit here like this, the knowledge will seep into my brain.”

He hums. “Pretty sure that’s not how it works.”

“Right, because you know everything,” you mumble. “Genius man.”

He rolls his eyes and pushes away from the table. “Come on. Time for a break.”

“I don’t need a break, I need to learn…” you sigh and turn your head, pressing your cheek to the book and looking at him with one eye. “What are we studying again?”

Oscar fixes you with a disapproving look and heads towards the front door. He knows you’ll follow. By the time he makes it to the entryway, you’re hot on his heels, watching curiously as he pulls his shoes on.

“Where are you going?” You ask.

“We’re going on a walk,” he says. “Brain break.”

You shrug and nod, reaching for your own shoes as he pulls on a jacket. He tries not to laugh as you struggle to pull them on without untying them. You’re always stubborn like that, it seems. It’s almost painfully endearing. You stand up straight once you have the shoes on and look at him expectantly.

“Where’s your jacket?” He asks.

You shrug and shove your hands into the pockets of your hoodie. Or is it Charles’ hoodie? Oscar swears he’d seen him wearing it just yesterday.

“I didn’t wear one,” you say. Oscar raises his brows, and you roll your eyes. “There’s not even snow on the ground, Piastri.”

“It’s almost December, Bunny” he says flatly, and reaches for another one of his jackets hanging on the hook near the door.

He hands it to you, and stands there, waiting, until you grumble and pull it on. You wear the other guys’ clothing all the time, but he swears you look almost flustered at the offer. Huh. He’s trying desperately to pretend he’s not flustered over it, honestly. Something about you in his clothing makes him blush. He’d felt the same way about the hoodie you’d borrowed at the party.

“You’re just Australian,” you say, nudging your foot against his as if to usher him out the door. “You’re a baby about the cold.”

He doesn’t have much of a comeback to that, so he steps outside, and you follow right along with him. He walks down the steps and takes off down the sidewalk, hands shoved in his jacket pockets. You might be right- he’s a bit of a baby when it comes to cold temperatures- but his breath curls into mist in front of his face and yours does the same, so it really is chilly. The sun paints everything golden- the windows on the buildings, the dead leaves that still cling to a couple trees. Your elbow bumps against his as the two of you walk. He tries to ignore the spark that shoots up his spine at the feeling. You're chatting away about something, someone in one of your classes who’s been annoying you lately. He's found he likes to listen to you talk.

When he turns to take the path through the park next to the athletics building, you stop in your tracks. He turns back, figuring you’ve seen something, but you’re just staring into the park, and at the large building behind it. He frowns.

“Everything alright?” He asks, quietly.

You nod. “I just. D’you think maybe we could walk to that cafe near here? I could really go for a chai latte.”

He nods- a drink does sound good. “Yeah, sure. D’you wanna walk through the park on the way? Won’t be much of a detour.”

The park is nice. It’s one of Oscar’s favorite places on campus. There’s grass and trees and a path that winds around the university’s baseball and soccer fields. But you’re staring at it with a much different feeling, if the look on your face tells him anything.

You shake your head. “No, let’s just…”

You don’t finish your sentence. Instead, you take off down the sidewalk, heading away from the park. He’s left to follow in your footsteps, suddenly feeling like he really knows nothing about you at all.

…..

When Oscar thinks of home, now, he thinks of this. Not Australia, or the house, or even his family, really. He thinks of a jersey, a stick in his hand, and the scrape of his skates against the ice. Hockey, for all its cheering fans and yelling opponents and background music, is a strangely quiet sport. Maybe he’s just gotten good at blocking out the noise.

They’re warming up on the ice. He has warm up traditions, now, something he hasn’t had with teammates in years- he and Lando slap each other on the shoulders, and he and George always skate a lap together. It’s not anything huge or elaborate, but it means he’s part of the team, and that’s enough.

Max skates up to him, just at the end of warmup. He nudges his shoulder against Oscar’s through the padding. “Good?”

Oscar had a rough week in practice. It was the kind that would’ve had him benched for a month on his last team. Seb’s been nothing but supportive- constructive criticism was offered, sure, but he’s still on the ice today, so he figures that’s a good sign. He nods and turns to Max. His eyes flicker up into the stands. He shouldn’t know this, but he does- your seat is above Max’s head from this angle, up in the second section, front row. You’re wearing a jersey, probably Lando’s number if he had to guess, and sharing popcorn with Alex’s girlfriend, Lily. He smiles.

“Yeah. Good.” He nods.

Max nods in return, then skates away. Oscar follows.

When he scores later, and ties the game one to one, he looks to the same spot in the stands. Lando hits him on the back, hard, a bit too enthusiastic. You’re standing in front of your seat, arms around Lily, yelling, and he grins. He can’t help it. The smile doesn’t drop from his face for the rest of the game. The rink, the ice, and his teammates may feel like home, but the way you cheer for him feels awfully close to it, too.

At the party afterwards, you pour two shots of tequila and hand one to him. He takes it with a smile, grimaces at the taste, and laughs when you cough. He pats you on the back sympathetically, and when you take his hand two seconds later and drag him towards the beer pong table, he follows happily.

…..

December creeps up on Oscar, and with it, so does final exam week. Suddenly, it’s just… there, bearing down on him. He’s not exactly nervous about most of his exams- he’s prepared well, and though he’d never say it out loud, he’s pretty good at testing. But no matter how well he studies or how much he’s paid attention in class, exams still aren’t exactly fun.

He sees you a lot in the week leading up to it. You’re often in the kitchen, eating snacks with Max, or in the living room, quizzing Charles on vocab, or in Lando’s room taking a nap between classes. You’re stressed. He can tell. He does his best to help in any way he can- when he goes to the store, he picks up your favorite snacks and leaves them on the counter. He helps you study for the physics exam. When he finds you asleep on the couch in his living room on Saturday night, he carefully lays a blanket over you and turns off the lamp. He hopes some of it helps, just a little bit.

The next afternoon, Oscar stands in the lobby of the athletic training building. He and Max had headed over for the afternoon to do a workout together, more to get their minds off exams than anything else. Now he’s in the lobby, waiting for his team captain, and he’s staring. Laser focused. He's making a whole lot of connections all at once. The wheels are turning in his brain, and he’s sure if anyone’s watching him, he looks crazy. He jumps when someone slaps a hand against his shoulder. It’s Max.

“Hey,” his team captain says, shaking him slightly. “You look lost.”

Oscar frowns and turns back to the photo in front of him. Women’s Soccer, a team photo, from what would’ve been his freshman year at his previous school. He’d been looking at the photos while he waited- the lobby is lined with them, and some of them are actually pretty funny. Some of the faces in this one are familiar, people he’s seen in the gym off and on. One, however, had caught his eye.

“Is that who I think it is?” He asks, pointing at the left side of the picture in the third row.

When he turns back to Max, his face has changed. The teasing look is gone, replaced by something solemn and hard set. Max nods and tugs at his shoulder.

“Wait,” Oscar says, trying to stay planted while Max tries to drag him away. “But she-“

Max crosses his arms over his chest and studies Oscar, brows furrowed. “I know. It’s not my story to tell, yeah?”

Oscar nods dumbly. Max nods in response. Then he nods his head towards the door, as if he’s directing Oscar to follow him. He does, because he’s not sure what else to do, and he’s not going to get any more information from the photo. He knows what he saw, anyways. You, standing there with the whole team, in uniform, your name listed below the photo with the rest of your teammates.

If there’s one thing the Timberwolves do better than hockey, it’s soccer. The women’s team has been national champions multiple times. A spot on that team isn’t something someone gives up willingly. But you’re not on the team, not anymore. When Lando asked if you wanted to go to the gym with them, you’d replied that you “wouldn’t be caught dead at the athletic training building.” And you’d avoided the athletic park like the plague.

Max turns to him as they walk out of the building, and the confusion must still be evident on his face, because Max swears under his breath in some other language. Oscar’s too lost in thought to even wonder what language it is, exactly.

“Look, just-“ Max pinches the bridge of his nose. “Trust me, she’ll talk about it when she wants to.”

“Okay,” Oscar nods. “But, like, is she… okay?”

Max gives him a sad smile. “Yeah.”

Oscar hears the silent part in his head. She is now.

They walk home together in near silence. Oscar doesn’t know what to say. He’s sure Max doesn’t, either. When they get to the house, Alex is coming down the front steps, the door still open behind him. Oscar sees your boots in the entryway, your coat hanging on the hook. Alex ruffles his hair as he walks past, and Oscar ducks before he turns to Max.

“Don’t tell her?” He asks, and Max looks sheepish, like that was the exact thing he was about to do. “I mean. If you think she needs to know I saw it, then… sure. But I don’t want her to feel pressured to talk to me about it.”

Max wrinkles his nose and nods. “Okay. For now.”

Oscar nods. They’re in agreement, then. He walks in through the front door and he can hear you and Lando in the kitchen, singing along to whatever song is playing from the speaker. It’s family dinner night. Oscar tries to put the thoughts of you in a soccer team portrait out of his head.

He sits next to you at dinner as you pick at your food. It’s one of your favorite meals, but your appetite seems low. It has him feeling concerned. Max, on your other side, nudges you. Oscar watches the two of you have a quiet conversation and wishes he knew what you were feeling. You finally take a couple bites, and he tries not to show how relieved he is about it.

One by one, everyone wanders off to study and get ready for the week ahead. You stay sitting at the table, though. Oscar clears some plates and comes back to find you, a couple TimTams in hand. You take them with a soft smile.

“You alright?” He asks, quietly.

You nod. “Stressed.”

Oscar nods. “Anything I can do to help?”

You twist your mouth. “Probably not. I should really just go home.”

You don’t make any moves to get up. He sighs and sits down next to you. You drum your fingers on the worn wooden tabletop and set the cookies down next to your plate. You’re chewing on your lower lip, and you close your eyes and let out a breath through your nose.

“It’s like… my brain just won’t stop going,” you say. “Like everything I’ve read is just tumbling around in there and I don’t know how to make it stop.”

“Objects in motion tend to stay in motion,” Oscar says, and you groan.

“Do not use physics metaphors on me right now,” you say, and when he starts laughing, you dissolve into giggles, too. “Gross.”

“Sorry, sorry,” he says, smiling sheepishly when you turn to look at him. “Why don’t I make some tea, and we can put it in travel mugs, and I’ll walk you home?”

A soft smile slips across your face. “That sounds really nice.”

He makes the tea exactly how both of you like it, pours it into the mugs, and ushers you towards the front door. You stop in the living room to say goodbye to Lando, who ruffles your hair, and Max, who holds onto your arm and says something to you, so quietly that you’re the only one who’ll hear it. Then Oscar heads outside, and you follow. It’s slightly dark, and chilly, but you’ve brought a jacket this time. You wrap both hands around the mug as you walk, a habit of yours that Oscar finds awfully endearing. The streetlights glow bright above your heads.

The walk is mostly silent. He reaches the entrance to the park, and on reflex again, he slows and turns to head down the path. You stop in your tracks and let out a pained little noise. Oscar’s stomach rolls. In the distance, the soccer field is lit up bright with floodlights. Something must’ve happened, to keep you from playing. You’d been good enough to be on the team. Something had changed. He turns and takes a step to continue down the sidewalk, but you stay planted there, staring. He pauses, holding his breath. It’s just the two of you, under the streetlamps, feet on the sidewalk.

“I used to play soccer,” you say, quietly, and his pulse jumps.

She’ll tell you when she’s ready. He hadn’t expected it to be so soon. He bites his lip and shoves his hands in his hoodie pocket. You’re still staring out over the park, so he turns to stare, too. He feels you lean your shoulder against his, like you’re looking for support, and he leans into it, just to show he’s there.

“I got signed to play as a senior in high school,” you explain. “And, not to brag, but I was really good. Went through summer training camp and made friends with my teammates and got here and… then I fell just the right way at practice, or the wrong way, I guess,” you say, grimacing. “Fucked up my knee. I had to have surgery, twice, and even then, they pretty much told me I was done. That it would never heal right.”

Oscar’s heart sinks. His chest feels tight. He thinks of you, on the couch in the living room when he woke up feeling off and asked you to go on a run, how you’d said you’d messed up your knee. He thinks of Max and the concerned way he always watches you climb the stairs in the stands at the rink. He thinks of you, younger, like the picture in the athletics building, on the field, in pain. He feels sick to his stomach.

“And my teammates… they didn’t know how to act, I think. They didn’t know how to help, so they just didn’t try. So, suddenly I was no longer a soccer player, and I was alone, and…” you sigh. Oscar turns to face you, and he thinks there are tears in your eyes. “And then I met Lando, and the rest of the team, and the rest is history. But… there are some things that still get to me. The field… it holds a lot of bad memories, you know? And when I’m stressed like this it all comes flooding back.”

He nods. You’re not looking at him, even as he watches a tear roll down your cheek. He wants to reach out and wipe it away, but he wonders if that would be a step too far. He pulls his hands from his pockets. You swipe a hand against your cheeks and clear the tears, and then let your own hands hang at your sides. He takes a steadying breath, steels himself, and links his fingers with yours- casually, lightly, gently holding on. You squeeze his hand in reply- a thank you, he thinks. He does the same in return.

“Did Max tell you why I left my old school?” He asks, quietly.

“No,” you answer, voice low and tentative. “Max doesn’t tell people stuff like that.”

He shrugs, though he supposes that makes sense- he’d refused to tell Oscar what had happened to you. Max seems loyal like that. Oscar rolls a pebble beneath his shoe and listens to your breathing to remind himself you’re still there. He wants you to know this. Wants to share. Wants you to know he understands, at least a little bit.

“I got scouted by them my senior year,” he starts, closing his eyes. Like this, he’s almost right back in it. “And I was really excited. And then I got there and… the guys on the team were awful. I didn’t get any playing time, and they’d all been friends since they were kids, and I felt like such an outsider.” He kicks the pebble down the path lightly. “By the time my sophomore year rolled around, I hated it. I hated hockey. I’d spent my whole life doing nothing but that but I dreaded every practice. I was…”

He huffs. Squeezes his eyes shut tighter. He can feel the hits from his own teammates at practice. Can feel that same empty, lonely feeling sitting at the end of the bench. He can taste the blood in his mouth when he tried to stand up for himself and the team captain shoved him and the coach did nothing.

“It was fucked,” he says. He hates the way his voice wobbles. “So I quit. I walked out. I was done with hockey. I couldn’t even go near the rink for months.”

“But you’re here now,” you say, quietly.

He nods sharply. “I had this old coach- his name’s Mark. Showed up on his doorstep and told him the whole thing. He and Seb used to be teammates. So he got me a tryout. I refused, at first. And then Seb sent Max to come talk to me.”

He remembers that, clear as day, too. Max, bright and smiling, at his dorm room door. He knew who Max was, he had looked up to him for years. Max had walked in, planted himself on the floor in the room, and hadn’t left until Oscar changed his mind.

“I spent the summer training back home. Found my love for it again,” he explains. “But it wasn’t easy. I think I’m still working on it, sometimes.”

You hum next to him. You squeeze his hand again. His breath hitches. Your skin is warm against his. It makes his chest ache. He hadn’t known who he was without his sport. He thinks maybe you know that feeling better than anyone else.

“I’m sorry you got hurt,” he says into the night air. “And I know you must’ve heard it a billion times, and that I don’t really understand what it’s like to have it taken away like that. But…”

“But you get it,” you say, voice rough around the edges. “The lonely feeling.”

He nods and swallows against the lump in his throat. “And thank you. For making things less lonely here.”

“I’m sorry if I was too much,” you answer.

He just shakes his head. “I’m sorry I was so… stuck.”

You’re quiet for a few moments, before you squeeze his hand again. “Come on, let’s go on a walk.”

You knit your fingers with his, properly, and Oscar expects you to start down the sidewalk again. You don’t. Instead, your feet carry you down the path through the park. He understands now, that this place must hold awful memories. Reminders of what was supposed to be, what was taken away. You’re trusting him with this. It sits heavy on his shoulders.

He doesn’t push, doesn’t ask more questions. When you walk past the soccer field, he turns to sneak a glance at your face. There’s sadness in your eyes, but a smile on your lips. There’s a strength, there, too, that he finds starkly beautiful. You hold onto him tightly, and together, you make it through the park, all the way to your apartment.

He leaves you at the door with a quiet goodnight and a promise to see each other the next day for the regular study session. The exam is on Tuesday, so it’ll be his last excuse to spend time with you like that. He walks home in silence, through the park, and tries not to stare at the soccer goal. That night, he dreams of soccer fields and hockey rinks and you.

…..

When Oscar gets home just before your normal study time the next day, there’s music pouring out of the front door before he even opens it. It’s louder once he does. The house seems mostly empty, but someone is either having a very good or very bad day. He wavers in the doorway, wondering if he should call you. He’s still there when you walk in behind him, bumping into his shoulder. He turns to look at you, eyes wide. Yours are even wider.

“I don’t think we can study here,” he says, frowning.

You shake your head. “We can go to my place.”

So he packs up his things into his backpack, avoiding whatever is going on in Charles’ room that has him causing permanent damage to his eardrums. Then the two of you take off down the street, towards your apartment. He slows only slightly at the turn for the park, waiting to see what you’ll do. You turn down the path through the park and loop your arm in his. He looks away in the hopes that you don’t see the smile that creeps across his face.

Your apartment is, honestly, exactly how he’d always pictured it. It’s soft and cozy and colorful. There’s a well loved, overstuffed couch in the living room, a little table in the kitchen, and so much stuff on the walls. Music posters, photos blown up big, and… collages. Some in frames, some tacked up with tape, scattered across the place. Perfect mixtures of magazine cutouts and pieces of paper and he swears he even spots a dried flower on one.

“Wow,” he says, studying the one that hangs over the couch. “These are so cool.”

You’re in the kitchen, grabbing a snack, and you turn over your shoulder. “Oh. Thanks. I made a lot of them when I was injured. I had nothing better to do, yknow?”

He sees a chunk of an x-ray in the corner of the piece, and his heart twists. You walk up next to him, shoulder to shoulder. When he looks at you, you’re smiling softly. He likes that look on your face. He wants to keep it there, and suddenly he dreads studying physics because he knows how stressed you’re going to be.

“We’ll have to make some sometime,” you say, nudging your elbow against his. “There’s a billion hockey magazines in a closet at your house.”

“I don’t have an artistic bone in my body,” he says.

You laugh. “That’s the fun of collages. You don’t have to.”

He settles in on one end of the couch, and you settle into the other. The soft light of the lamp in the living room makes it feel warm, the same way your hand in his had felt the day before. He tries so, so hard to focus on physics. It’s just… he’s in your apartment, and you’re there, knees curled to your chest, brow furrowed in concentration, and… something about this feels so soft.

He clears his throat, opens his textbook, and flips to the review questions. “Alright. Ready?”

The two of you study for hours. Oscar doesn’t know when it happens, but at some point you move closer, so you can look off the same textbook. Physics terms and formulas and theories rattle around in his brain, all wrapped up with thoughts of you. The sun goes down, and the windows to the outside grow dark. He doesn’t want to leave. He wants to stay right here.

“My brain is full,” you mumble, between a yawn.

You drop your head against his shoulder, and his heart pounds in his chest. He shouldn’t be feeling like this, he knows it. You’re just tired, that’s all.

He nods in agreement. “Mine too. I can go home. We should get a good night’s sleep.”

You nod against his shoulder and then make no move to pull away. “In a minute,” you say. “Your arm is comfy.”

Butterflies- actual, real life butterflies, he swears it- swirl in his stomach. It doesn’t mean anything. He’s seen you fall asleep on Charles’ shoulder during movie nights, watched you curl up on Max’s bed and take a nap while everyone around you talked. He’s just another friend, another shoulder to lean on. This doesn’t mean anything, and besides, it shouldn’t mean anything, so why is his stomach swirling with butterflies, and why does his face feel hot?

When you finally pull away and help him pack up his things, he hopes you can’t tell how he’s feeling. You walk him to the door and wait for him to put on his shoes and jacket. It’s just so you can lock it behind him, he knows. But then you reach up and smooth the hair from his forehead and laugh, and his chest aches fiercely, and god, he could kiss you- not even really kiss you, just on the forehead or the cheek would do. He says goodnight instead and steps out into the hallway, then makes his feet carry him down the stairs and out to the sidewalk.

He walks past the soccer field and finds himself hoping that maybe you felt it too.

He gets up early the next morning and finds Max in the kitchen with coffee ready to go. He grabs two travel mugs- his, and yours. Max raises an eyebrow as he spreads cream cheese on a bagel. Oscar does the same in response.

“You were out late last night,” Max says, eyeing him.

He doesn’t bother asking how Max knows when he got back. He feels like it’s written plainly all over his face. He can feel the weight of you against his shoulder. Can feel your hand brushing his hair from his face. Can feel how much he wants to lean in. Max must see it.

“I was studying,” he says, carefully.

“With Bunny,” Max suggests, and Oscar nods. “But not here.”

“No, we got here and Charles was blasting music,” Oscar explains. “So we went to her place.”

“He failed an exam,” Max says, face scrunched up. “Well. He assumes he did. You know Charles.”

Oscar nods. Max is staring at him as he pours hot coffee into mugs. He’s not sure what the team captain is looking for, but he hopes he doesn’t find it.

“She told you,” he says, quietly, and Oscar looks up from the mugs, nearly spilling coffee all over.

He clears his throat. “Yeah.”

Max nods and finally turns back to his bagel. “Good.”

That’s that, then. He puts the lids on the coffee, and Max sends him out the door with two bagels- one for him, one for you. He almost feels like he’s passed some sort of test when Max gives him a sharp nod as he turns to leave, but he’s not sure which test it would even be.

He finds you in the lobby before the exam, hands off the coffee and the bagel and tells you he knows you’re going to do well. You smile brightly at him, and he swears it lights up the whole building.

“We’ve got this,” you say, nudging him with your elbow. “And if we don’t, we’ll retake it together.”

He nods in agreement. The two of you sit on a bench and eat your bagels and drink your coffee. Oscar wishes he could attribute the warmth in his belly to the drink, but he’s pretty sure it has more to do with the way you smile up at him and the weight of your shoulder against his. Either way, it sends him into the exam with a good feeling, and that’s really all he can ask for.

…..

Oscar finds himself feeling sad when the holiday break rolls around this year. It’s a weird feeling. For years, he’s looked forward to December for this reason. The exams are over, he gets time off from school, a chance to go home or have his family visit, and a break from everything. He realizes, as he’s staring up at the ceiling, listening to Lando lugging a suitcase around, that he’s going to miss his friends when they leave for the break. It’s been two years since the last time he called his teammates friends.

He drags himself out of bed and into the hallway, because if Lando’s leaving, he wants to say goodbye. And sure enough, there he is, wearing a hoodie and sweatpants and taking an enormous suitcase down the stairs one step at a time. Oscar spots you on the ground floor, watching in amusement, and he waves at you.

“Morning, Oscar,” you call out. “Ready for the break?”

He scrubs a hand through his hair and shrugs. “Yeah.”

You raise your brows. “That was convincing,” you say, sarcasm dripping from your lips.

He bites back a laugh, not wanting to give you the satisfaction of having called him out. “It’ll be nice to see my family. Just weird to have everyone gone, yknow?”

Lando, who’s made it down three stairs, turns to look at him. “Aw, he’s gonna miss us!” He coos, and Oscar feels his face go red.

Before he can jump to his own defense or try to come up with something to tease Lando about, you speak up from the bottom of the steps.

“Yeah, and we’re gonna miss him, Lando,” you say, shaking your head. “Jesus. Oscar, would you just shove him and the giant suitcase down the steps?”

Oscar’s trying not to dwell on you saying you’ll miss him, too. It shouldn’t affect him nearly as much as it does right now. It makes his stomach twist. He keeps the smile plastered on his face and forces a laugh, and Lando glares at him as menacingly as Lando can glare at anyone. He brushes off the feeling and grabs the side handle of Lando’s suitcase, then helps him lug it down the stairs. Lando shoots him a smile to replace the glare as they get it to the bottom floor. Then he pats him on the shoulder and ruffles his hair. Oscar winces.

“Bye, Piastri,” he says, grinning. “Have a good break.”

He pulls the giant suitcase towards the front door. You stay standing there, even as Lando steps outside and sighs at the sight of the front steps. Oscar steps off the staircase and lands near you, arms swinging at his sides.

“You’re staying here all break, right?” You ask.

He nods. “My family will be here Monday, though.”

“Nice,” you say, smiling wide. “Well. I bought more TimTams and Vegemite, so they should feel right at home.”

Warmth bubbles up in Oscar’s chest. “Thanks.”

You nod. The two of you stand there for a few seconds, and he wonders if you’re holding your breath, too. You shift back and forth on your feet, and then before he knows it, you’re against his chest, arms around him. He barely has time to hug you back before you pull away, and that’s the only bad part about it. He would hold you forever, if he could, he thinks. And honestly, that’s terrifying.

You pull away, and he hopes you don’t notice how red his cheeks are. “Bye, Oscar,” you say, almost shyly.

“Bye, Bunny,” he says back.

Lando calls your name from the front door, and you scurry off. He sighs. He swears he can still smell your shampoo, and then hates himself for knowing what your shampoo even smells like. He shoves his hands in the pockets of his sweatshirt and turns back towards the stairs, ready to head back to his room, crawl back into bed, and go back to sleep. He jumps in shock when he finds Alex and George standing at the top of the stairs, leaning on the railing.

“That was interesting, wasn’t it, Alex,” George says.

“Quite interesting, I’d say,” Alex nods, scratching his chin thoughtfully.

Oscar rolls his eyes and takes the stairs two at a time. “You guys are creepy.”

They both just laugh as Oscar pushes past them and into his room. He shuts the door behind him, flops down onto the bed face first, and closes his eyes. Outside, he hears Logan’s car start up- the guy really needs to get the thing fixed, it’s loud as hell, but at least it still runs. He closes his eyes and reminds himself that it’ll only be a few weeks until you’re back in town. Then he wonders when having you around became so important to him. He rolls over, buries his face in the pillow, and goes to sleep.

notes: a lil osc pov!! thank you for reading! check out the winter break blurb, or find part 4 here!

tags: to be added or removed just let me know!! crossed out names were unable to be tagged- if it’s yours, shoot me a message!

main taglist: @4-mula1 @celestialams @struggling-with-delia @lovekt @i-wish-this-was-me @forzalando @iloveyou3000morgan @callsign-scully @arian-directioner @racingheartsposts @sakuramxchii @mynamejeff5

series taglist: @sourskywalker @ivyvlair @gwginnyweasley @annispamz @bearlul @aresriiots @ggaslyp1 @verstoppenheimer @black-fireproofs @smilinlemon @arieslost @floralkoi @vicurious28 @likedbygaslyy @rorabelle15 @bwormie @treatallwithkindness @fandomnerd11 @adhxmoony @sakuramxchii @insunia @mindflay3r @talking-raw @coolmathgames2 @assholeinatrenchcoat @saachiep81 @venusacrossthestars @v1naco @anthonylockwoodandco111 @whalebursoot-main @ellen3101 @k-pevensie28 @ninifee1802 @avg-golden-retriever @pleasecallmeunhinged @andruuu28 @aceofswordsandarrows @dreamsarebig @secretunnels @ginsengi @yayahnaise @f1petra @lovecarsgoingvroom

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meowsforyujin · 3 months

Text

Clubbing- Han

Han x fem bodied reader

(Warnings- !!smut!! , choking, drinking, oral, fingering, unprotected sex)

!not proofread, I’m lazy

Clubbing wasn’t something out of the ordinary in your friend group. What WAS out of the ordinary was that literally everyone had found a “ride” home but you and freaking han jisung. Jisung was your best friend’s brother, aka pain in your ass. You did not like him AT ALL. You didn’t like his gorgeous figure, his perfect slim waist, his gummy smile…

Okay just because you think someone's good looking doesn't mean you like them.

Jisung was annoying, for starters. He’s always messing with you, and FLIRTING with you. He’s always making it seem like you have a crush on him, and it pisses you off.

“Me? Have a crush on YOU? You wish” you’d say.

“Whatever you say princess.”

What was really blood boiling was that your best friend didn't seem to care one bit. If your brother was flirting with her, you’d kick him in the nuts. But not her, she either laughed or ignored it.

Fast forward to present, here you are sitting lonely at the bar with no one to take you home, since everyone had luck tonight BUT you.

“Why are you so lonely at a club, it’s depressing.” you hear that stupid fucking voice that makes your heart beat oh so slightly faster

“No reason that's your business asshole.” you snap your head around.

“Is someone grumpy that they aren't getting laid?” He asks smugly, sitting down next to you.

“I think you're teasing me because you're upset YOU'RE not getting laid” you say, annoyance visible in your tone.

“I have a better chance than you.” he stuck his tongue out like a child

The bartender handed you your drink and you spaced out, eyes on the dance floor. You loved dancing. Han also knew you loved dancing because he loved watching you dance. He wasn’t ever one to be in denial, unlike you.

“Well since it's just us less, I suppose we have no choice but to dance together.”

You come back to your senses and look back at him, making a disgusted facial expression before shaking your head.

“Come on, it's your favorite song, you want to dance so bad I know it.” He says holding out his hand.

You opened your mouth to protest, but gave up and hesitantly took his hand. It was your favorite song, though you don’t remember telling anyone.

There isn’t anything in the world that could make Jisung regret asking you to dance, he’s sure. You’re the most pretty thing he’s ever seen. He doesn't like to watch you dance because you're good at it, no. You’re exceptionally bad at it. It’s absolutely adorable.

You hate to admit, but this is one of the best times you’ve had on the dance floor. You don’t know why, it’s not really any different from dancing with your other friends. Maybe you just like watching him smile and laugh more than the others.

Everything was going pretty wholesome until a few drinks in the song changed to a more slow, sexual song. But it’s fine right? Jisung is just a friend, it doesn’t mean anything when you're dancing with your back pressed against him, slightly grinding against him. But youre a little tipsy, and so is he, and to be quite honest neither of you see each other as a friend.

But you’re quickly sober when you feel a bulge press against you, you're breath hitching.

“Jisung?”

“Hm?” he replies, head still on your shoulder.

“Are you hard right now?”

He just hums and plants wet kisses on your neck.

“HAN JISUNG” You turn around, fully intending to scold him until you see his gaze.

“What.”

He’s staring at you, hands still on your hips. His eyes half lidded, lips parted, hair messy, eyes absolutely filled with lust. You feel small under his gaze so you move your attention away from his eyes, and it’s just now you're noticing the way he's dressed. He’s wearing a button up that frames his biceps so well it's insane, unbuttoned a bit to where you can see the slight outline of his pec muscles

Your thoughts are brutally interrupted when you feel his hand pull up your chin to met his eyes.

“What.” he repeats himself.

“I um, your, uh, um” You forgot how to speak English all of a sudden.

“Are you shy baby?”

It was like you were hypnotized by him, because instead of scolding him you simply nodded. And he did nothing. He just stared. But you wanted him to do something, anything.

“Jisung, please.” You're voice came out more of a whimper than you intended.

“Please what princess?”

You faulted for a moment, not knowing exactly how to put into words what you wanted.

“Can you, can you atleast just kiss me?” You breathed.

And he didn't waste any time fulfilling your wish, almost crashing his lips onto yours. It felt like he has been waiting to do that for forever (he has). The kiss was sloppy and heated, tongues tracing each others mouth, teeth gnashing together every now and then. The heat in between your legs was beginning to become unbearable.

“Please, can we get out of here?” you pulled away looking at him with pleading eyes.

When he got to his car, he truly didn't expect you to be this impatient. His plan was to drive back to his apartment before resuming anything, but CLEARLY you had other plans.

Your hips on either side of him, grinding softly while attacking the skin on his neck.

Jisung couldn't help the moans that escaped him, and he didn't want to either.

“Princess, we can't do this here, l, let's just get home first hm?” He huffed, pulling your hair behind your ear.

“Please just let me do something before we stop.” You whined, the wait was too long already.

He sighed and nodded, not knowing what to expect.

You pushing the driver's seat back harshly was more attractive than it should've been. You got down off the seat, onto the ground of the car. Your hands crept up to his zipper while he looked at you with great anticipation. You palm his bulge slightly, pulling a beautiful whine out of him, before taking out his member completely. You try, you really try to hold the gasp in when you see his size. You couldn't help yourself, you had to get your hands on it.

You run your fingers up and down his member, causing ticklish yet still pleasurable sensations. Jisung moaned, bucking his hips up slightly, trying to show you that he needed more. You hum before licking a long stripe up his dick, earning a long whine from him. You circled his tip, collecting the bits of precum leaking from it. Without wasting any second you take him in, his tip hitting that back of your through as tears prick the corner of your eyes, threatening to fall. You began bobbing up and down, leaving jisung a moaning mess. His hips buck up as he hissed, trying to hold himself back. You pull off, unsatisfied.

“Don’t do that, don’t hold back.” You watch his beautiful face turn a deep red as he shyly nodded.

You went back down, this time sucking at his tip on the way up, which seemed to be his limit. His hands found their way to your hair, holding you in place before thrusting into your mouth. He only got in a few thrusts before his hips stilled, cock twitching as he came. You swallowed every bit while watching his gaze on you, chest falling up and down heavily.

The drive home felt agonizingly slow. As soon as the car stopped, you all but ran to the front door, eager to get in jisungs pants again. The moment the door opened you were pinned to the wall, jisung kicking the door closed behind him. Your lips reattached after what felt like forever, and he took this opportunity to pin your wrists to the wall above you. You let out a satisfactory moan when he did so, causing him to grow harder and harder in his pants. He moved from your lips to your neck, leaving open mouth kisses. The gentleness was quickly replaced with his teeth slightly sinking into your skin, sucking harshly. You enjoyed it though, your whimpered sure as hell confirmed that.

Jisung reached under your thighs, pulling slightly signaling you to jump. And you did, wrapping your thighs around his waist, and kissing him once again. He set you down on the kitchen counter, your legs still wrapped firmly around his waist, trying to pull him impossible closer. His hands reach under your shirt, tugging slightly. You pull away from the kiss, granting him access to take off your shit. He practically lunged towards your chest, leaving wet kisses along your cleavage. Your breath hitched as you felt his hands going up your skirt, feeling your heat.

“So wet baby, for me?” He flashed you that stupid cocky smile of his.

“Just do something about it sung, please?” You looked up at him with pleading eyes.

The nickname definitely hit a soft spot, as he's never heard you call him that. He couldn’t say he didn’t like it though.

He bent down, throwing one of your legs over his shoulder. You watched his strong hands reach up your thighs, rolling your skirt back. He attached his lips to your clothed clit, causing a desirable cry from you. You whines at the lost contact when he pulled away, removing your underwear and then getting back into the same position.

You whined feeling his warm tongue lick up your pussy. He starts painfully slow, kitty licking every inch of you, just wanting to taste every spot. While this was nice, it wasn't any of the right movements to make you cum. And you wanted to cum, so bad. All of a sudden it was as if he read your mind. His lips curled around your clit, sucking gently as he pushed a finger into you. You let out a cry of satisfaction, begging him to keep going. He pumped his finger in and out of you while sucking your clit, and soon one finger became two. Soon after the second finger was added, you were cumming all over his face with a cry of his name.

Jisung cleaned you up with his tongue, not wanting to miss a single drop until you whined from the overstimulation. He gives you a quick peck of the lips before taking you into his arms, carrying you to the bedroom.

He sets you down on the bed and then turns around, confusing you.

“Where are you going?”

He turns back at you with a soft smile, “Just going to get stuff to clean you up, and then clothes for you to sleep in.”

You frowned, “Who said we're done?”

“Oh, I um, thought maybe you were tired..I didn't want to pressure you.” why was he so sweet? It was bothering you.

“No sung, im not tired, want you to fuck me.”

He blinks a couple of times, breath caught in his throat, before hurrying over to the bed toppling over you. Before you could laugh at him, he's already kissing you. Both of your clothes are off in seconds, thrown somewhere unimportant. His eyes were glued on your naked figure, with an unreadable expression. You turned your head away nervously, crossing your arms over you.

You yelped when he harshly removed your arms and pinned them up above you.

“You’re so, so beautiful. So much fucking better than I imagined.”

You felt your face burning at the last comment “What do you mean imagined sung?”, you chuckled softly, but really you wanted to know.

“You don’t know how long I’ve wanted this, to make you mine.”

You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling his crotch down to meet yours.

“I’m not yours yet, you better hurry up”

He let out a “Tch” sound before entering you without warning, filling you up so perfectly you wanted to never be empty again. You felt every inch of him against your walls, tip so sweetly brushed against the spot you loved most.

“Fuuuck sung please move” you cried, rutting up your hips trying to get some friction against your g spot.

“Mmm only if you say your mine.”

“Shit sung, okay okay I’m yours.”

“Again.”

“I’m yours.”

“Again.”

You rolled your eyes, “Han Jisung, I’m yours and only yours.”

And with that he began thrashing his hips into you, hitting your spot everytime. The room filled with the sounds of skin slapping and both your moans. He pulls your legs back around his waist, trying to hit your spot better, and holy shit he succeeded. You were so so so close, and he was too, you could feel his dick twitching inside you.

“Sung, im so close please” you begged, tears falling from your eyes.

“You’re so fucking good for me” he grunts, thrusting faster.

“Please choke me” You whined

He was hesitant at first but shortly complied, wrapping his fingers around your throat giving it a light squeeze. All of a sudden, time stopped. All on your mind was bliss as your walls clamped down onto him, pulling a high pitched moan from him while he came too.

After you both came down from your high, jisung picked you up and took you to the bathroom. He set you down on the sink while he ran the bathtub. You simply just watched him, soaking in his beauty.

For a good solid 10 minutes, you both were silent, just sitting, feeling each other's warmth. Eventually Jisung picked up a bottle of soap and began to clean you.

“I can do things by myself jisung.” You glared at him

“Mmm but I want to help you, love. And also I prefer my new nickname “sung” now.”

You scoffed but let him continue his task, picking up the bottle of soap out of mere curiosity.

“Vanilla?” You laughed “Your soap is vanilla scented?”

“I like vanilla, what’s wrong with that?” he pouted.

“Nothing.” You whispered, giving him a soft kiss.

“So, for the record, you did have a crush on me.”

“HAN JISUNG!!”

#kpop fanfic #stray kids smut #stray kids #han jisung #han jisung smut #han smut #jisung smut

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eggroll-sama · 22 days

Text

Who’s My Roommate?

The Touchstarved cast are at a hotel and can’t decide who will be their roommates. Some are against certain pairings. You don’t really care, but they seem they’ve got a few colorful opinions || Touchstarved LI x reader. All of them have a crush on you, but you’re oblivious. I had this in my drafts for a while but I finally got the motivation to finish it. Just light-hearted shenanigans. Sorry if there are any typos!

__________________________________________

“I don’t want Leander,” said Vere, his arms crossed and glaring at the man across from him.

They didn’t think deciding on rooming buddies would be so hard. There were exactly three rooms, side by side, and anyone who knew basic math understood there would be two people per room. The problem was, who and who?

Vere and Ais were the first pairing that came to mind. But then Mhin complained that they didn’t want to hear them having sex at two in the morning. You and Kuras could sympathize so argued that, no, Vere and Ais cannot be together in the same room. Vere was angry, Ais was indifferent. He preferred Vere’s company over others, but as long as he didn’t get Mhin he was fine. He found the idea of Mhin aiming a knife to his neck fun, but in the end he didn’t want to deal with them pestering him like a fly.

And then there was Leander. If they went off the reason of not wanting to hear someone having sex, then Leander was tough. He had had sex with half of the members in the group: Ais, Mhin, and (maybe) Vere. You still didn’t really know if they did it or not.

“I wouldn’t mind sleeping in the same room as Leander,” you said. Everyone stiffened except for the man in question, who had a cocky smile on his face. Secretly, everyone wanted to room with you, but they didn’t want to admit it.

Kuras stepped in before Leander could make a comment, and steered the conversation to possibly drawing sticks so it would be fair for everyone and well, not everyone was happy with their partners. Vere got Leander, Mhin got Ais, and you got Kuras. You weren’t against Kuras being your roommate; he was a gentleman and minded his own business. He didn’t seem like he was against rooming with you either. The others were not so happy with their results.

“I’m not rooming with a monster,” Mhin spat, venom lacing their words, glaring holes in the back of Ais’ head.

Ais ignored them, while Vere rolled his eyes.

“Oh yeah, well nobody wants to deal with an annoying midget like you. I think you forgot to pack your booster seat.”

Vere snickered as Mhin’s face turned red from anger.

“Hey hey now hold on, MC said that they were fine with rooming with me, so why not just leave the two of us out of it?” Leander said, arms snaking around your shoulder.

“No, you soft penis numbskull. You’re not rooming with MC.” Mhin stepped in. When the others looked at Mhin curiously, they coughed nervously and looked away.

You tried to lighten the mood with a joke, “Ais and Leander are best friends. We should room them together.”

The corner of Leander’s smile frayed at your joke. Ais narrowed his eyes at you. At least Vere was laughing, probably at you for your failed attempt to lighten the mood, but at least he laughed. You drew into yourself. You’ve forgotten the others were getting quite annoyed by the arguing. This was serious business that might mean life or death.

“How about we draw sticks again?” You suggested meekly, trying to move past the awkwardness.

“No, it’s just a waste of time,” intervened Vere, “we all clearly have our preferences, so how about we list anyone we don’t want to room with? I go first. I hate all four of you, fortunately, so I’m going to room with Ais or no one.”

“I don’t have a preference,” said Leander with a blush.

“We know,” Vere rolled his eyes.

“At this point let’s just room the two people that are the doormats of this group, Leander and Vere. It’s the easiest way to deal with them,” said Mhin.

“Or how about we room Leander in one room and Vere in the other one, and then we all share the last one,” you suggest. At this point you were running out of ideas and throwing them out randomly hoping you would hit a jackpot.

“I’m not invited to the foursome? That is unfortunate to hear,” Vere said.

“It’s getting too complicated. Room Vere with MC, Mhin with Leander, and me and Kuras. That should be good,” suggested Ais, getting impatient.

“I’m afraid that would be endangering MC’s safety,” said Kuras coolly, ignoring Vere’s exasperated reaction.

He quickly switched to his flirty demeanor, a coy smile on his lips, “Oh, but I don’t bite. Unless they ask me.” Mhin scoffed in the background. Kuras was expressionless. If he reacted to Vere’s tasteless innuendos, he would give the fox exactly what he wanted. So he stayed quiet and didn’t let his face give anything away.

“I agree with Kuras on this one. A bloody, mangled corpse is the last thing we want to deal with,” said Mhin. Though Mhin said this, you knew that they cared about your safety.

Ais sighed in defeat, pulling out a cigarette and a match, “I’m going out for a smoke.” You couldn’t blame him, they’ve been arguing for the past thirty minutes. Ais walked off to the entrance of the hotel.

Seeing Ais walk off, Vere waved their fingers before sauntering off in the same direction.

“The dog went to take a walk with it’s owner. Good grief,” said Mhin.

“We still need to get this rooming situation settled. I’m sure the others won’t mind if we decided without them,” said Kuras.

He sighed, “From what I’ve observed, the best rooming pairs seems like the fox and Ais, Mhin and MC, and Leander and I. We’ll take the middle room, Mhin and MC take the left, and Vere and Ais the right. That way Mhin wouldn’t be disturbed from any unnecessary sounds at night.”

“I could live with that,” said Mhin.

Leander didn’t seem too pleased with the end-result, but he wasn’t going to complain, “Alright. Guess I get to room with the good doctor tonight. Hey, maybe we can finally get some dinner, you and I.”

“Perhaps,” said Kuras, but from his indifferent expression and hollow tone it sounded more like a no.

“Ah,” was all Leander said. You could see the cogs turning behind his eyes. Then, he pulled out a deck of cards from his pocket, “I brought cards with me. Anyone wanna play Poker in an hour or two, our room?”

You smiled, “I like Poker. Bet I could beat you,” you nudged his shoulder teasingly.

“Sure.” Leander said with a laugh, but the way he said it almost sounded…condescending? You raised your brows, but before you could fully process it, Leander had already started speaking, “Would the doctor like to join as well?”

Must’ve been my imagination.

“I suppose if you are going to play in our room, I could join for a game or two.”

Kuras reply seemed to brighten Leander’s mood from the thinly-veiled rejection for dinner a few seconds ago.

“Great! How about you Mhin!”

“I’m tired.” Mhin grabbed their bags and started heading for the elevator, ignoring Leander’s invitation. You saw Leander’s smile falter.

“I’ll try convincing them,” you whispered to Leander who gave you an appreciative smile.

You had the keys to the room, so after saying goodbye to the other two, quickly followed after your small companion.

“I’m glad I get to room with you, Mhin,” you said while waiting for the elevator with them.

Mhin huffed at your words, turning away, “Right.” In the corner of your eyes you could see their pale skin get pinker just a tad. You smiled to yourself at their reaction. You weren’t really sure what the rest of the day will entail, but at least you were able to get through the hurdle of deciding who will be your roommate.

#touchstarved game #I don’t have a sequel in mind for this #I thought it was a really funny idea #touchstarved x reader #mhin x reader #ais x reader #leander x reader #kuras x reader #vere x reader #roommates #touchstarved kuras #touchstarved Leander #touchstarved Ais #touchstarved vere #touchstarved Mhin #touchstarved fic

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acowardinmordor · 8 months

Text

You Left Me - You Miss Me - 4

Part One - Part Two - Part Three - Part Four

Hi, time for more, arguably making things better, but also arguably making things much worse.

----

There was a diner a block and a half from their apartment. Steve found it when the sky opened up during his jog one morning. Snow, he could have handled, he was dressed for it. Slushy sleet mixed with hail was another matter. He ducked inside to hide until it passed, chatted with the owner for a bit, and brought Robin with him the next day because they had an amazing spread of waffle toppings, including crumbled bacon, and Steve knew she’d go crazy about it.

He was correct, and it was their go to spot, not just for breakfast.

At the end of January, Rebecca sat down to join them, and handed Steve an application.

Steve was already working at a JC Penny in the stock room, and picked up a few hours at a roller rink filling in when someone called out. They had enough money to live. Not decadently, but they could cover all their bills, and keep gas in the car, and buy supplies for Robin’s classes.

“Uh, Rebecca, I’m- thank you? But. My memory sucks, and my hearing isn’t great, and if someone starts getting rude, I’m going to get rude back to them, and --”

“This is a diner, hun,” she stopped him, “You write the orders down, you can always tell someone to say it again, and the fact you can shut down anyone that gives you lip is why I think you’ll be good at it. Like I said, it’s a diner. We don’t have to be all sunshine and daisies here.”

“I’m working at another--”

“Over at the mall and the rink, I know. And I know you’re free Monday through Wednesday mornings. And,” she stressed, “staff gets free meals and first dibs on the day olds.”

“Dingus!" Robin gasped and grabbed his arm. "Do it, do it. Stevie. Please, oh my god, please, you have to take it. You can bring me the brioche buns. And that apple butter. And that thing with the nuts! Steeevveee, don’t you love your soulmate? Please? I cou--”

So Steve took the job, and worked a few mornings a week. By the third week of February, he stopped feeling like he was going to fuck up any second. He understood why Rebecca liked his ability to get bitchy in the face of difficult customers, and he and Robin had cupboards well stocked with random take homes.

He liked it. Starting at five in the morning took some getting used to, but he was done by one, and traded off with a middle aged mom named Susan after the lunch rush settled down. Was it a ton of money? No. But he got more tips than he expected to, and the brioche really was delicious.

The last week of February, he was working alone on a Tuesday, at the start of the lunch rush, expecting Susan to arrive soon, and an easy day.

“Be with you in a minute,” he called to whoever just came inside, bussing half a dozen empty plates from table two after dropping off more creamer at table four. He looped back, ducking behind the counter to put the plates on the pass through for Nick to grab.

He dropped the entire stack before he got there.

His hands clenched down, his muscles locked, and even though it should have made him hold harder, everything slipped, and either shattered on the tiles or banged into his feet.

Jim Hopper winced from his seat at the counter. “Sorry, kid.”

The couple of other diners glanced up to check on him, and John looked around the window from the kitchen. Steve didn’t move. Couldn't. Could barely breathe.

“Is it back?”

“No.”

His exhale shook out of him before he shoved down the panic.

“Then whatever this is can wait.”

“I’m just here to talk.”

“And I said it can wait.”

He swept up the broken dishes, shrugged off John’s silent offer to throw Hopper out, and reminded himself there was no reason to think that the Upside Down was back. That meant this was going to be more awkward and less dangerous, and he was going to hate it, but it was still the better version of the day.

“What’ll you have?”

“Kid, I’m here to talk cause I didn’t think you’d want me at your place.”

“And I’m at work, and this is a diner, so what’ll you have?”

“Steve--”

“I’ll bring you coffee. I’m not talking about this while I’m working.”

“Coffee’s good. When are you off?”

Steve gave his bitchiest smile, didn’t answer, and went to seat the couple that just walked in.

The lunch rush was a mercy. Susan handled Hopper, and gave him the iciest service anyone had ever gotten under that roof. Hopper took it gracefully, but he didn’t shift, or push, or give any indication that he wasn’t willing to sit there til midnight if he had to.

Normally, Steve would get some lunch to go and head home. If the weather was bad, he ate at the booth in the corner to wait it out. With the way his stomach was twisting, unable to separate Hopper from what his arrival could mean, he wasn’t going to keep food down. He filled a glass of water, then silently gestured Hop to follow.

“Good to see you, Steve,” he said when they sat. “You and Robin doing okay up here?”

“We’re fine. Why are you here? If it isn’t something to do with, you know, then why are you here?”

“Maybe I just came up to check on you.”

“Did you?” Steve snorted into his drink when that question made Hopper’s face twist up. “So what is this?”

“I am here to check on you. There’s something else, but I came here because I’m checking on you. Me and you weren’t all that close, but you had Mrs Buckley give me your info so I’d know where you were.”

“Yeah, in case of an emergency. And you said there wasn’t any emergency. Plus, you had my phone number, so you could have called, which would be way less weird than showing up while I’m at work, you know?”

Hopper scratched at his cheek. “It’s not an emergency compared to all the reasons you wanted me to be able to find you, but if you ask those kids, this may as well be the end of the world again.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “Yeah, right.”

“Yeah, well. Henderson is gonna get himself arrested if he keeps trying to steal the mail and find something addressed to you. Max keeps pushing El to try and find you. The only reason they haven’t gone completely crazy is because of the Buckleys telling them that you’re fine. She gave me your address and number, and she talked for a little bit about the kids.”

Steve smiled at that. Mrs Buckley had never talked a ‘little bit’ about anything in her life. Either she was holding the line on being rude to anyone that might bother them, or Hop was pretending he hadn’t listened to a solid hour of rambling.

“Still haven’t told me why you’re here.”

“Want to ask if I can -- shit, I don’t know. I can route mail back and forth so they never have your address or something. I’d rather give them your info so I don’t have to be involved, but I already know you won’t agree to that.”

Steve ignored the pause that Hopper left there. Conversation and good manners said he should concede to something so he wouldn’t inconvenience the man too much. The last month with Robin supporting his choice kept his mouth shut. She’d be pissed at him if he folded, and worse, she’d help him get through all the pain it caused if he did talk to the kids again. Then he’d feel guilty and sad.

“Alright,” Hopper grumbled, “Didn’t think you would, but you know how those kids can be. Can’t fault me for trying.”

“So, we’re done? You sat here all this time just to talk for three minutes?”

“Almost.”

“So….” At least Steve could enjoy the fact that neither of them were enjoying this. Hopper winced a bit before he spoke.

“I didn’t tell any of the kids I was coming up to see you. None of them knew, and none of them are gonna know. Didn’t even tell Joyce why, just that I was driving up to Indy. Already had a plan in case they tried to tail me up here. So, had a surprise this morning when I got to my truck. it might change your answer.”

“Didn’t know you were so dramatic about stuff.”

“Side effect of two hours with that surprise, I guess. Eddie Munson came up with me.”

Any of the kids would have hurt.

Henderson might have made him cry.

Eddie Munson? That didn’t make sense.

They weren’t friends, never had been. The Upside Down meant they were connected, but they were never more than acquaintances, even when Steve was desperately trying to keep them all close. Sure, he’d taken over as the chauffeur for the kids, and everyone’s new best friend, but that didn’t explain why he’d bother to come up to talk to Steve.

“What the hell? Why?”

“He asked.”

“And you said yes.”

“He said please.”

That was not the whole story. There was something getting skipped over, left out. Hopper tolerated Munson, but he wouldn’t do him a favor if there wasn’t some kind of monster involved.

“Wait, you’ve been here for two hours.”

“Yep.”

“Did you just leave him in your truck this whole time? That front came through overnight. The high is thirty four today.”

“Yeah, I did,” Hopper said flatly. “He told me he wanted to come up so he could talk to you. Told me a little bit about why. And I said yes and I let him come, but I told him that I was gonna talk to you first. If you said no, he was gonna stay in that seat clear back to Hawkins, and keep his mouth shut about this whole thing.”

“How’d he know what you were doing?”

“No clue.”

“What does he want to talk about?”

“Not gonna say it for him.” Hopper shifted towards the edge of the booth. “So, want me to tell him to buckle back up, or tell him to get his ass in here?”

A quick consult with the imaginary Robin in his head left him just as confused, but curious as hell. He agreed, and fidgeted with a napkin, struggling to think of any reason why Eddie Munson would want to talk to him, or what the hell he said that the kids hadn’t that convinced Hopper to drive him up.

Stuck in his head, Steve jumped when a mess of a man in denim and leather slid shivering into the seat opposite. The scars on his face and hands were less vivid than they were last time they saw each other, but they still worked as a thermometer. Steve's did the same.

“Why the hell were you sitting in the cold, man?”

Eddie blinked, and froze where he was rubbing his hands together trying to get feeling back. “Hopper took the keys.”

Steve’s turn to blink. This was the guy taking care of his kids.

“Susan?” He called, gesturing for two when she lifted the coffee carafe in a question.

“You don’t need to do that.”

“Dude, I don’t know what the hell you’re doing here or why you care or what the hell is happening, but I’m not gonna let you sit there shaking cause you’re a dumbass who doesn’t know what gloves are.”

Steve watched packet after packet of sugar pour into Eddie’s, while he stirred a splash of half and half into his own cup. Eddie took a gulp, hissed at the heat, and clutched at the mug, eyes glued to the nicked surface of the table.

“I’m sorry.”

“For rotting your teeth out? That’s your choice, Munson.”

“No,” Eddie insisted, voice hoarse, “I’m sorry about the kids.”

Steve took a breath, took a sip, took another breath. “Look, man, that’s not on you. You play D&D with them, and you like all their nerdy shit. I was -- They grew up. We got through everything, all of that, we won, and they grew up. It’s not your fault that they like you more than they liked me. So, thanks, I guess, but--”

“Steve. No. They didn’t. They -- those kids did not suddenly grow up and decide they didn’t like you anymore. You are their favorite person anywhere, ever, you will be for the rest of eternity, and they don’t understand why no one will tell them how to reach you. They put on a really good show about being mad about it, but, come on, you know what they’re like. They want to apologize cause they know they hurt you, and they want to fix it, and just, you gotta let them try, Steve. You gotta let them talk to you. They miss you so fucking much.”

“Look, I know how they get, and I know how dramatic they are, but it’s still not your fault--”

“It is. Steve. It is my fault. That’s - That’s why you have to talk to them. Cause they didn’t grow up and get over you or decide they didn’t care about you. Those kids are crazy about you, and they never stopped, and they’re hurt right now cause they don’t understand why you left them, and you gotta fix it with them, please.”

Something pinged weird in his ear when he heard the way Munson’s voice cracked. Not just worry, not just helping, not just caring about the kids. Guilt. He was taking the blame for it, even though that didn’t make any sense. The kids were - brats, gremlins, terrors, the most stubborn people he’d ever met, and he knew Nancy Wheeler. If they wanted to be around him, they would be around him.

It wasn’t Eddie’s fault, or anyone’s fault. It hurt like hell, and Steve wished it wasn’t true, but this was just life. Kids grew up, their interests moved. Friendships changed and ended.

But that crack of guilt…

“How is it your fault and not theirs that they stopped wanting to ever see me?”

Eddie’s hands stopped shaking from the cold before he got the coffee.

His hands were shaking again.

Trembled in the time between Steve asking, and Eddie managing to respond.

“I, uh, I asked them to.”

----

Don't be too mad at him yet. He has a lot more to say.

Part Five >>>

#You Left Me - You Miss Me #my writing #steddie eventually #focus on the eventually today

600 notes · View notes

sehodreams · 2 months

Text

a good girl's paradox

TW and Tags: plus size!coworker!reader x coworker!lee tang (he changed his name to Gyeong-su in the episode), mentions of violent acts (stalking, killing, bullying), smut, p in v (with protection), fingering, oral sex (f receiving), suicidal thoughts, trauma, related to the series but it changes the storyline for the fic purposes, unclear descriptions of the place (Busan) because I have no interest into learning more geography for a fic.

WC: 10K

Summary: Everyone goes to that province to hide, and you’re not the exception, but it’s also said that everyone wants to leave, and perhaps, you’re the exception to that.

Comment: Sorry guys I know I have a lot of requests and other drafts waiting, but I love this man so much I couldn’t help it, I started it yesterday and finished it today because I've been having so many problems finishing other fics and decided this was not going to be one of those half done. It's long so there are definitely mistakes, please be kind, again, English is not my first language.

Feeling the ocean breeze mess up with your hair and leave little particles of salt on it, you sat over the bench and watched the sun appear over the horizon. It was incredibly calm, and beautiful, and you inhaled the aroma of the sea in front of you, an aroma your mother used to love when you were younger, always carrying you in her arms to take you there and watch the sunrise together while eating marmalade and butter sandwiches.

You stopped completely going there once she passed away, and everyone knew why you tried to avoid its existence as if it woke up all the melancholic memories you had with her.

The truth was, you always hated it, and you stopped completely going only because you had no reason to do it anymore. You could make your own decisions once she wasn’t around anymore, and your father never cared enough to keep you company even on important events, so for as long as you could, you just didn’t go.

However, now that you saw it in front of you, you did remember some moments with your mother, her smile, and her excited voice telling you to wake up and watch the sun appear.

‘’Fucking sea’’ you said once the sun completely stayed up there, an orange light showering the whole scenery making it even more breathtaking, but still hating it.

You stood up, grabbed the suitcase handle, and walked alongside the sea, trying to catch a cab in that part of the countryside little city, different from Seoul, which was always awake, you saw how only a couple of people were walking around there, and most of them where fishers getting ready for work, or maybe they were coming back, but you, a city girl your whole life, didn’t know.

You found a taxi not much later and telling him where you were going, the driver rolled his window even more, and giving you a good look, he nodded for you to jump in.

‘’It’s not far from here’’ he said, and you nodded, not feeling like talking much with him. ‘’When you leave, don’t let them charge you too much, never pay more than 15 dollars for any cab, and never go to the sea at night.’’

That last sentence caught your attention, sounding like advice but with a hint of uninterest, assuming that you were going to leave one day.

‘’When I leave?’’ you asked.

‘’You’re going to a rented apartment, I know that building, we know everyone here, and you’re a city girl, I can hear it in your voice, all pretty and clear, something happened to you there so you came here to hide, it’s always the same thing, but your kind never like it here enough to stay’’ he answered sure of his statement.

You looked out the window, the sea was blue, pure, immaculate, and the sun wasn’t orange anymore, a clear sky showing the clouds up there, which you could see reflected into the sea.

But it all looked so grey to you, after all, a beautiful thing like that one still killed people every now and then, fishers who tried to make a living, tourists curious of what was deep inside, or simply people who tried to refresh themselves with the cool temperature of it in the summer, so you nodded.

It was beautiful, a dream, but you would never fall in love with it, if you never did it before even with the memories of your childhood, why would you do it now?

‘’Thank you’’ you said, agreeing with him.

You’d never like it enough to stay.

Still, you kind of appreciated his words after living there for almost a month.

Something you never forgot was how that driver, only with that short conversation, helped you so much, because it was true, you never had to pay more than 15 bucks for any cab, and every time the drivers tried to take advantage of you because of your accent, you only had to spit a short fuck off before they called you a bitch and accepted your bills before driving away.

At first, it was hard, you had never cursed in front of another person and you felt almost sick whenever you did it, but after deciding no one knew you there enough to have the right to judge you, or reminding yourself to just say what went through your mind to not punish yourself later with an I should’ve done something different, you started to feel better with your life there.

Also, he had been right about city people hiding there.

There weren’t many, but they were there, and it was incredibly easy to recognize them.

Apart from the dialect, which was pretty much obvious, there was just something about them that screamed I’m not from here that you always noticed.

Perhaps it was the way most of you were programmed to be colder than most of the countryside people, always being respectful and polite, but always lacking that warmness they had, most of them treating each other like friends or family, while all of you were from the exterior, uninvited guests that one day would leave, and knowing your place, all of you said thank you, hello and goodbye without smiling or eye contact.

It wasn’t that bad for you thought, you had already told yourself to not be involved with people at all if it wasn’t necessary to avoid useless problems, but again, you were only a girl, and Gyeong-ah was just a girl too, and girls, as much as you tried to deny it, feel easily alone.

You met while buying groceries, and you knew immediately she was from Seoul because instead of choosing the detergent almost all the residents there bought, which had a powerful, almost heavy aroma of flowers to mask the sea smell, she chose the softer version without aroma that most girls that lived alone in Seol used to not mess with your perfumes.

You didn’t wear perfume, you never liked it, but you recognized the brand as if it was general knowledge taught at school.

‘’You’re from Seoul’’ you said before you could think it, and it wasn’t a question at all, it was a fact that she, when she heard it, couldn’t even deny because she recognized you too.

‘’You too’’ she said, and suddenly you had a friend.

Just as city girls, you two knew how to talk to each other, never crossing lines and being as cordial as you could, wanting to know but never digging too deep unless you were sure the other deserved to know delicate information about yourselves.

In a month you became best friends, and you started to like to live there, the grey color the area had wasn’t as grey anymore, taking a brighter variation now, almost becoming white, as white as her ceilings, or as the smile she sometimes showed you.

Both of you had really white teeth from performing as perfect city girls before arriving there, religiously visiting the dentist to get expensive treatments at least twice a year and using the famous toothpaste that girl group promoted on TV between music shows, with the phrase ‘’a pretty smile is a pretty heart’’ pushing half the population to buy it, effective, an incredibly overpriced.

Both of you stopped using it, but you respected how it still showed its results.

‘’The supermarket is opening a new position as a cashier, you could come if you want, you receive discounts as an employee’’ she said to the air when you were rambling about almost not having enough savings.

Even if it was the countryside and rent wasn’t even half of what you paid before, with everything you spent after unsuccessfully trying to fit the beauty standards when you lived there, your savings weren’t enough to live unemployed for too much time.

Next week you, instead of waking up to take a little walk before breakfast, now got ready to go to work and be a useful human being to society again.

And with that, both of you took a step further into your friendship, being able to reveal, after drinking a couple of beers, why you escaped from the city.

Gyeong-ah told you everything, from the pretty sequence of how she and her boyfriend met, to then what he did to hurt her, and how she suffered until she had to go through all those surgeries before she moved to Busan.

You told her everything too, how your boss pushed his hand under your skirt, how you reported it and how everyone looked at you as if you were crazy, ‘’She’s the one that reported the sexual assault case? She should be grateful anyone wanted to fuck her’’, and how, being completely alone, you were bullied until you had to quit.

‘’I was the first place in my class’’ she said.

‘’I closed the best deal the company ever had’’ you said.

Both of you cried until you fell slept together on her bed, and only woke up because both of you had to get ready for work.

It didn’t take long for you to get used to your new job, you were already a seller before arriving there, you knew how to talk to people and how to fake a good smile, charming customers into buying products they didn’t need and quickly gaining the manager approbation, because, after all, as everyone said, you were a good girl.

Sadly, Gyeong-ah didn’t have the same luck, and you understood her, she studied to do something different with her life, and you did it too, but she was younger and never had to learn how to make people love her before because she was incredibly gorgeous, but now that beauty wasn’t as useful anymore, and not knowing how to pretend as much as you, she couldn’t gain the appreciation you did, getting more scolds than praises.

It was on one occasion that her inexperience got her into a big argument with a client, and sadly you saw the first crack of your friendship appear.

That client was demanding a refund for a product without the receipt, and you wanted to run to her and repeat how you also couldn’t find the purchase on the system, but that woman was screaming so bad you got flashbacks of your boss’s wife screaming at you to take back the complaint, how her husband would never touch a disgusting pig like you (calling you that when she was as fat, to not say more, than you), and how you should just ruin your own life if you wanted to ruin someone’s.

She had the same voice tone, and even looked exactly like her, with dark red lipstick, a failed perm and all those cheap accessories, she was her spitting image.

You couldn’t move, watching the situation happen from afar, feet stuck to the floor and hands shaking, you repeated inside your mind to go and help her, to take her side, but you couldn’t, and making eye contact with one of the boys from the fish section when he walked in front of you, you closed your eyes to ignore the situation and not feel as pathetic as you did.

Later, when your break came, you went out to breathe as much air as you could, and trying to erase the memory of the past moment from your mind, you tried to think what could you do to apologize to Gyeong-ah.

Out there, between a couple of cars, in the middle of the immense parking lot, you tried to hide so no one saw you spiraling into a thousand thoughts, and there, almost breaking down, you stopped yourself from doing it when you saw the guy from before talking to that woman.

It looked as if she wanted to discuss with him too. He was beside her car, and she started to get closer to him while talking, you couldn’t hear it, but you saw her mouth moving as fast as before.

You were about to get closer to hear them, but you stopped once you saw a disgusting string of saliva being spit on the concrete by him.

It was so long and thick that you didn’t doubt it was a consequence of all those cigarettes he smoked every day.

You didn’t smoke, but Gyeong-ah did, and sometimes the smoke got impregnated in your clothes, so you could easily identify the Marlboro smell of the pack the two of them chose all the time, but he, unlike Gyeong-ah, had a smell a lot stronger.

Your thoughts were left aside once you saw the woman moving around nervous and he trying to take her phone. What the hell, you thought, and you were about to intervene when the woman jumped into her car and drove away.

Making eye contact with him again, he watched you for a couple of seconds before he turned around and completely ignored you, continuing to smoke his cigarette in peace.

‘’I don’t have time for this’’, you whispered to yourself and walked inside to talk with Gyeong-ah and not overthink anymore.

The first crack wasn’t deep, she said she understood it, and you hugged before finishing your shift and going back home to drink and badmouth that terrible woman, especially you, not thinking much of the woman from the supermarket, but of your boss’s wife.

She laughed while hearing all the insults you had about her appearance, going to sleep with a smile on her face and telling you that she would understand if the situation happened again because it wasn’t your fault, or hers, it was theirs for not understanding you two.

Little cracks continued to appear on the frame of your friendship, but it was still solid enough to survive everything.

At least, until Sangnim appeared, and completely smashed it to leave no trace of it.

That fucking bastard, as you used to call him, ruined everything with his existence.

The minute you saw him you knew something was off with him, you couldn’t help but notice small details when the two of them gave you a lift home, sensing the aroma of a perfume you used to smell a lot in Seoul inside his car, it was impossible Gyeong-ah was the only woman riding it, and you tried to slip a question without looking suspicious.

‘’Sangmin-ah, do you have sisters? I can’t believe how much you understand my Gyeong-ah’’ you said with a smile.

He made eye contact with you through the mirror and showed you a wide grin.

‘’I don’t have any sisters, but you’re so sweet, I really try to take care of Gyeong-ah as much as I can, she deserves it’’ he answered immediately.

‘’You’re right, she deserves it’’ you repeated, still smiling.

Shut the fuck off, you contained yourself from saying that out loud, nodding and looking around to find any other clue.

You couldn’t find anything, but he was definitely a cheater, and you, not having any solid proof, didn’t know how to break the news, so you pretended to not know anything to find the correct moment to say it.

Still, you left little comments every now and then, not blaming him, but leaving a trail of doubts around, doubts that sadly were never enough for Gyong-ah, fracturing too much your relationship.

You even thought that maybe you were exaggerating too, maybe deep inside you just tried to find a reason for her to end things with him, he was never going to stay, he said it before when you three had dinner, he’d go back to Seoul next year, and contrary to all predictions, thanks to your friendship, you liked it here enough to stay.

The future wasn’t bright at all, but it was enough for you, maybe in a couple of years you could escalate to a better position, you’d get benefits, you would walk around the beach every Sunday morning, and then you’d go and have breakfast with Gyeong-ah.

You had to apologize, for the sake of your friendship.

However, you didn’t have to, or more than that, you could never do it, because three days later Gyeong-ah passed away.

Waking up in your free day, you sent her a text to ask for an hour of her time to talk, but she didn’t answer in fifteen minutes, and you just knew something was wrong.

Taking a cab to her house, you saw the ashes all around, and how her room was the one who started it.

‘’It seems the oven was on’’ you heard one firefighter say.

Dropping to your knees, you denied it, because she always checked everything at least three times before going to sleep, it didn’t matter how drunk she was, she would check the door, the kitchen, and would unplug her phone charger from the wall.

‘’I saw on the news that chargers can get on fire’’ she said, and you laughed in her face because that only happened once every thousand times, ‘’Well, with my luck, I could be that one time.’’

‘’Shut up’’ you said while knocking three times on her wooden headboard.

It had to be him, it had to be him, it’s the only answer, she would never do it, she wouldn’t let her oven on in a million times, they didn’t know her like you did, and sadly, soon no one would remember her like you did.

Calling her mother was the hardest part, you couldn’t remember how the hug of a mother felt in real life, and when she wrapped you into her arms, you broke down with her, because even if you didn’t know her, Gyeong-ah had been telling her about you, always finishing the calls with the same sentence, ‘’Don’t worry mom, my friend’s is taking care of me here.’’

‘’I’m so sorry, I should’ve taken more care of her, I’m so sorry’’ you repeated in her arms, and her mother denied it, saying how that wasn’t your fault at all, but you felt as it was, because you could've stopped her from seeing him, you should’ve stopped her the minute you figured him out.

You didn’t, and it didn’t matter how many nights passed, you couldn’t sleep with the guilt consuming you.

Looking at the beach at night one day, not being able to sleep again, you remembered how the first day you arrived you were told to never go to the sea at night, and right there, you understood why that driver told you that.

For the first time ever, you thought that maybe, maybe, you should just get lost in it, like the fishers, like the tourists, like the innocents.

You weren’t none of them, none of them deserved it, but you were convinced you did.

And you were about to go meet her, until you realized that, there, on earth, you could continue taking care of her, because even if she wasn’t there with you anymore, you could do what was necessary to make Sangmin pay for what he did.

You wouldn’t survive another I should’ve, so you would do it, you would do what was necessary, and nothing would stop you.

Finding Sangmin’s information wasn’t hard, you just had to do a couple of clicks on the internet, and you had everything you could need.

If only you had done that before, but you refused to go back into social media, all your profiles were flooded with hate comments from people you used to work with, or your boss’s family, or people who didn’t know anything at all but felt the right to talk about your body, and she had also deleted all kind of social media for a similar reason, so none of you knew how he was about to get married, and how you had been right about the smell of her fiance's perfume and all the little comments you had left around.

It was simply impossible how they met was a coincidence, getting sex extorted just like Gyeong-ah? He knew how to get close to her and break down her walls, he planned everything, and finally, you had no doubt about doing something.

You planned to wait for him out of his job, you wanted to do it quick and easy, and no one would suspect you, you looked like a good girl, you were a good girl, you were one until he appeared and stole the little family you had, he stole your whole life, and you would do it too.

With a knife in hand, you waited for him to get out of work, and you thought that he would drive his car, but he didn’t, so you followed him down the dark street to an unknown place.

Gripping onto your weapon, you felt your heart punching your ribcage, nervous as never before.

I can do it, I can do it, you repeated inside your mind, trying to convince you again.

But you couldn’t, and entering an alley, letting him go, you started to cry while hugging your knees, apologizing to Gyeong-ah for not being able to do anything for her.

You felt a cold sensation touch your nape and you jumped away from it surprised, looking up at the sky night and watching the guy from work you never liked.

‘’Drink this’’ he pushed the water bottle to your face, almost obliging you to take it, and your heart started to beat again, knowing he had seen what you tried to do, knife on the floor easily to differentiate even in the dark.

‘’Gyeong… Su?’’ you tried to remember his name.

‘’Go home, sleep, and tomorrow go to work, the manager keeps calling you and leaving messages, your position is still yours’’ he said, almost immediately walking away, but you stopped him gripping his jeans.

‘’You saw me’’ you affirmed,

‘’I did’’ he didn’t try to lie.

‘’Don’t you think I’m bad? I tried to do something really bad.’’

Your voice almost broke, and your hand on his jeans was trembling.

He looked down at you, maintaining eye contact and scanning you, and you felt as if he was inside your mind, finding exactly what he wanted to know.

‘’You’re not bad’’, he said after a long silence.

‘’You don’t know me’’, you replied as soon as he finished talking.

He shrugged and pulling apart from your grip, he talked one last time before leaving, ‘’That’s true.’’

Completely alone there, you cried again until you felt satisfied, and looking up to the dark clear sky, you apologized one last time to Gyeong-ah, and to your mom, and to you, and after drinking the whole bottle of water, you walked to the beach, burring the knife into a hole in the sand you dug with your own hands, to then go home, take a shower, and sleep.

The next day you had to go to work, and you needed to sleep at least a couple of hours.

When you arrived at work the next day you told yourself to completely ignore Gyeong-su, not wanting to talk with someone who had seen you in such deplorable moments like the ones you had.

However, again, you were just a girl, and not having anyone around you anymore, he was the closest thing to intimacy you had.

The relationship you had wasn’t deep enough to be called a friendship, he rarely talked about himself, only keeping you company when he smoked a cigarette in his break and when his turn finished.

You can’t remember how you started to get closer to him, you just remember seeing him smoke near the plastic table behind the supermarket, near the entrance in which all trucks left the daily order of products, and sitting next to him in silence, missing the smell of the Marlboro Gyeong-ah used to smoke.

Somehow, it brought you a calm feeling, and your mind stopped thinking, becoming a blank sheet that didn’t need to be filled with anything, not memories of her, or your past life in Seoul, or Sangmin, only breathing and watching the ugly metallic green bars that surrounded the place as if it was a prison, separating it from the outside world.

He didn’t mind you staying there, and days after days, you started to notice his presence around more often inside the supermarket, and the little behaviors he had.

‘’A man of few words’’, you called him when he didn’t answer your question if he was from Seoul too, thing he never acknowledged, but it was too obvious.

He didn’t have the province dialect, he had a soft way of slurring words whenever the manager or his superior in the fish section made him questions, like most boys in the city did, especially those who worked as part-timers in convenience stores, a polite but tired tone, and you were sure he had received some kind of superior education because when you carried a copy of Justice written by Michael Sandel, he followed it with his eyes until you pushed it inside your bag.

‘’Those who insist that only bleeding wounds should count believe that post-traumatic stress reflects a weakness of character unworthy of honor. Those who believe that psychological wounds should qualify argue that veterans suffering long-term trauma and severe depression have sacrificed for their country as surely, and as honorably, as those who’ve lost a limb’’ you quoted the next day while he lighted his second cigarette and seemed more relaxed next to you.

‘’I’m too dumb for that’’ was the only thing he said before exhaling a long line of smoke.

You don’t know why, but after hearing him so sure while saying that, and after such a long time, you were able to laugh again.

Things were slightly getting better after two months, you could sleep at least four hours now, and you were doing things again, not only staring at your TV when you arrived home. You opened old books she had left at your house, cleaned your place more, and ate proper meals, and you still cried, but at least you were able to smile when you saw pictures of her in your phone.

Still, there were moments in which you crumbled, and one of them was when you heard what happened to Sangmin a long time ago, only a couple days after you tried to do… that.

You heard it from one of the clients, how weird things were happening, first the death of a former worker there in the supermarket, and then the death of her boyfriend, and how now there were other two girls dead.

‘’This never happened before those people started to move here’’ her companion, another elderly woman said, and of course they referred to the people like you, people that weren’t born or grew up there, but you couldn’t help but only think in what you had heard about Sangmin.

Sangmin was dead, and what should’ve brought you joy for fair karma, instead made you hide in the warehouse, crying and spiraling into your thoughts about Gyeong-ah, and how you didn’t even make an effort to make sure she got her real justice, cleaning her name from everyone’s mouths.

‘’What’s going on?’’ you heard Gyeong-su’s voice come from behind the shelf you were leaning to.

‘’He-He’s dead’’ you answered, you didn’t need much to think of how to phrase it, he knew who you were referring to.

‘’Isn’t that what you wanted?’’ he asked you.

You stayed silent, muffled cries hiding in your knees.

‘’I don’t know, but I’m hurting so much, and all I keep thinking about is how Gyeong-ah must have suffered more than me when she left this place, and how I’ll never be able to know if he received what he deserved, even more, how because of that I’ll never be able to clean her name, and now no one will remember her as clearly as I do’’ you then confessed.

Feeling like a sinner telling a priest all of her secrets, you felt as if something had left your chest free, your mind finally was out there, formed into words and tears, and you didn’t see his face, but that let you speak your mind even more free.

‘’I see’’ he murmured, ‘’and you’ve thought that all this time, I guess.’’

‘’Yes,’’ everything was out, your tears sliding down your cheeks and your body lighter, almost numb.

‘’Well, you shouldn’t compare your pain, or hers, or his, each of you went through things none of you three know, she doesn’t know how you’re mourning her death, you don’t know how she suffered the process of it, and none of you know how he suffered his, those are things none of you will ever know, so it’s okay if you hurt, but you don’t have to think much into what he deserved, because you’ll never have an answer, and you shouldn’t condition what you feel into an answer you’ll never receive.’’

You sniffed your tears, looking at the packages of toilet paper in front of you, wishing you could take one to clean your face.

‘’And I do remember her, not as clearly as you do, of course, no one will, she was your friend, but I remember she liked to buy fresh tuna every Friday to eat with you, she always had a blank face when the manager scolded her or when she talked to rude clients, and she would rarely smile, but with you, she would do it in front of others sometimes.’’

You exhaled.

That was exactly her, she liked tuna when you hated it, and you picked on her for having an old man's taste buds, you preferred chicken over it, but you let her win every time one of you had to choose, and yeah, she did stare blankly at others, including you, but if it was a good day, she would smiled at you with those white pearls she had inside her mouth.

Feeling as if some heavy weight was lifted from your shoulders, you exhaled and let your head fall to the shelf you were leaning into.

‘’You two were the city pair’’ he finished, making you laugh.

‘’You’re also a city boy’’ you said, and he coughed, ‘’and you’re a liar, you said you were dumb.’’

‘’I am, I never understood that book’’ he said before grabbing the box between you two, lifting it, and going out, leaving you there alone.

You felt as if finally, you had taken a step in the right direction, moving from your position, you cleaned your tears with the ugly blue vest, too hard for your cheeks, and waking you up with the pain.

A week later another girl died, and your boss had to organize a meeting.

‘’It seems the current situation is getting dangerous, especially for young girls, so the superiors have ordered all the women to leave while the sun is still up’’ he said, and you don’t know if it was because of an empathy people from where you grew up didn’t have, but you got surprised when none of the men argued with it, everyone nodding in unison.

You had permission to leave early, so you did it, not being able to share Gyeong-su’s company when your turn finished, only seeing each other in the first break.

‘’You’ll miss me’’ you said the first day, and he never made any sound to acknowledge your silly jokes, but this time he let a soft snicker, almost imperceptible, that made you smile too.

You tried to always do what you were told to, so you left before the sun went down, but that day you were in charge of counting merchandise in the warehouse, so you didn’t see how late it was until you checked your phone.

It was even later than the time for everyone to leave, so you quickly grabbed your things, said good night to your male coworkers, and left.

You tried to not get paranoid with the news, they specified that the killer only directed its attention to pretty girls, loving long legs and soft features.

Gyeong-ah and Sangmin cases were mentioned every now and then to repeat how dangerous things were getting, but they were never related to the girl’s deaths, being two different situations.

That’s why, you tried to convince yourself you would be okay, you didn’t share any of the characteristics the killer loved in their victims, and he supermarket wasn’t far from your house, but you didn’t dare to walk alone anymore between all the buildings, so you waited for a cab to appear and take you home.

You made sure to always be careful when you were alone, yes you took cabs, but you always had a pen on your hand and your phone ready to call 119 in the other, checking the routes and if the driver looked at you too much.

Everything was okay, you were already relaxed when you saw your building in front of you, so you shoved your things in your bag, pulled out the bill, and paid, walking home with an easy mind.

You never thought you would get snatched right next to your door.

With a hand on your mouth and the other on your tummy, you felt how you were dragged into the alley next to your building, darkness surrounding you while you felt a disgusting presence behind you.

The one who pulled you in was a man, taller than you, with big hands and an erection already ready to make your worst nightmare real.

You started to cry, muffled by his gloved hand, you couldn’t say anything when you heard his voice calling you sweet treat, ordering you to be silent if you didn’t want things to get ugly.

Begging Gyeong-ah, your mother, and God to send you help, you nodded when he said he would let you go if you were good.

‘’Promise?’’ he murmured.

‘’Promise’’ you agreed, closing your eyes and letting his hand cup your pussy with force, not making a single sound, only trembling with tears running down your cheeks.

He pushed your face to the wall and made you show him your bubbly ass, touching it as much as he wanted without an ounce of shame.

You thought this is it, my karma, repeating inside your head how this was your punishment for all the things you should and shouldn’t have done.

The man couldn’t even open the button of your jeans before you heard a loud bang and his body fell to the floor.

Staying in your position, you pressed your face to your hands and didn’t dare to turn around to see what was making all that noise, it was metallic, and it didn’t stop even when the man didn’t make a single noise anymore.

When things got silent, you, still trembling, turned your head to see what, or who stopped the man.

You never expected to see Gyeong-su covered in black clothes from head to toe, paint all over the floor, covering the man's body and face, and the can totally smashed and tossed to the side.

‘’Uh?’’ was the only thing that came out of your mouth.

‘’I knew he was going to come for you, this sick bastard’’ he said.

You didn’t understand why he thought that, and watching your white sneakers get ruined with the blood and the red paint, you started to cry even more, still in silence.

‘’It’s okay, you’re okay’’ he said, giving you your messed bag and, once again, leaving you alone.

You called the police, the number still there on your screen ready to only press the green button, and when you did it, you said your direction as clearly as you could.

‘’Did you see who did it?’’ one of the officers asked you, and you stayed silent for a good minute before answering.

‘’I didn’t’’ then you said.

The two cops keeping you company looked at each other and then the one writing things down nodded.

‘’I see’’ was the only thing he said before leaving you alone.

You didn’t have much to do, the man was dead, and now nothing could be done.

Was that justice? You thought.

They immediately recognized him as the killer, he had a patron, pretty girls who lived alone, and all the bodies showed the same signs of abuse before dying.

Perhaps he had lied to all of them, and he had lied to you, convincing you that if you did no sound you would live, but you’d have died just like them at the end.

But did he deserve to die? Just like Sangmin, wasn’t there another way to get justice for your pain? For yours, Gyeong-ah’s, and all those girls’.

Still, what you knew was that, even if it was contrary to all your values, knowing how valuable life was, Gyeong-su didn’t deserve any punishment, he had saved you, and justice for you, was that he continued free out there.

The next day before you went to work, you saw rests of the red paint still over the cement, thin layers already dry after so many hours, cracked with the breeze of the sea, and you thought how, if Gyeong-su hadn’t saved you yesterday, what anyone else would have seen in daylight was your cold body lying out there.

All your coworkers hugged you when you arrived, and your manager told you to take the day off if you needed, but you couldn’t go back home or you’d start to overthink things again, if what you did was the correct thing to do, if he deserved to die like that, if you were a killer too, taking into account how you saved Gyeong-su’s secret.

When the first break came you walked out to the plastic table, but Gyeong-su wasn’t there, and hugging your coat, you sat to wait for him, but he didn’t come.

He avoided you for days, and you thought the pseudo-friendship you had was over, until a detective arrived and started to make questions about what had happened to you that day.

‘’You really didn’t see who did it?’’ he asked, and you denied again, already used to say that lie as if it was an unchanging truth, ‘’Do you mind if I walk around here a little bit?’’

You didn’t have a reason to say no, but your eyes caught how Gyeong-su opened the curtain separating the counter from the freezer where all the fish waited to be cut and packed to be sold, and how he immediately took a step back, not letting himself be seen.

You don’t know why, but you knew Gyeong-su didn’t want that detective to see him.

‘’I’m sorry, but I really don’t want to see any more cops lurking around, he’s dead, and looking at you only brings me back the bad memories of that night’’ you didn’t know why you said something like that, it didn’t make any sense, all the older ladies loved to see the cops near, feeling a lot safer, but you didn’t know what else to say to make them leave.

His younger companion frowned and was about to say something before the detective stopped him and nodded, leaving you his card and telling you to call him in case you ever needed help or remembered something.

You didn’t answer, shoving it into one of the numerous pockets your vest had, and turned your back to continue writing down the stock you were counting.

‘’Ugly girls should learn how to talk prettily at least’’ you heard the younger say.

‘’Shut up, she’s a victim, she doesn’t have to entertain you with pretty words’’ the older quickly replied, ‘’and you don’t know what you’re saying, her face is very pretty.’’

Jand Nam-gam, you read in the card he left you.

He seemed like the kind of person who was only respected by the people who were near him, used to receive no as answers, and a bit blunt and unsophisticated, from the city, just like you, but without the calm and respectable vibe a detective from there usually had, and too honest and correct to survive there for long.

When you went out for your break a couple of hours later you saw Gyeong-su sitting on the table, smoking and waiting for you.

You sat next to him and for the first time, you showed him your palm, asking for a cigarette too.

Without looking at you, he gave you the one he was smoking, still new and ready for you to take it.

Your fingers brushed his when he gave it to you, and you tried to not think much about it, but you always thought too much, so to shut your mind up, you inhaled the cancer stick and held it as long as you could, slowly letting the grey cloud appear in front of your face.

The city had the same grey color it used to have before Gyeong-ah, and you weren’t sure how long you could stay there.

Your imagination wasn’t filled with a future there, you didn’t want to walk around the beach anymore, you had no one eating breakfast with you in your head, and you were afraid every time your turn finished and you had to go back home, running the few steps to open your building door, and only feeling safe once you checked that your oven was off and you put a chair behind your secured door.

‘’I didn’t ask for your help’’ he then said.

‘’Me neither’’ you answered.

He nodded, still looking at the metallic bars surrounding you.

‘’How did you know I didn’t want him to see me’’ he asked, breathing the air and pushing his hands inside his apron pockets.

‘’How did you know he was going to come for me’’ you asked back.

He shrugged like every time you asked him anything he couldn’t ignore.

‘’I just knew he would come for you, after all, they said he followed pretty girls.’’

It felt completely different from when the detective said it, and you bit the inside of your cheek, feeling a warm sensation reach your cold hands.

‘’I just knew it too’’ you said, tossing the rest of the stick to the floor.

It tasted like shit, and you couldn’t understand how he and Gyeong-ah smoked it every day.

‘’I won’t come to work tomorrow.’’

You felt incredibly alone again, you knew he meant that he wouldn’t come back, he would, again, leave you there on your own.

‘’Can you walk me home today? I’m afraid of going on my own.’’

He knew why you asked him that, a goodbye, a farewell, so he nodded and told you to wait for him at the front door.

Your turn finished and then you were waiting for him right where he had told you, a good girl following his words exactly like he wanted.

You stayed there, hands playing with the leather strap of your bag, the bag you used when you lived in Seoul, too noisy in the province, reason why you preferred to go around with your canvas tote bag, a lot more discreet and common, but that one had been ruined with the red paint that day, and just like your white sneakers, you had to toss it away.

When he appeared he nodded at you, indicating you with a tilt of his head to lead the way.

You two walked on silent, you couldn’t make any question or comment or silly joke, and it was obvious, by the grip on your bag, that you were nervous.

He noticed it, and pulling out his hand from the pocket of his bomber jacket, he grabbed your left hand and held it all the way to your house.

You felt incredibly calm, thinking how you shouldn’t because you knew, deep down, that he was dangerous. It was impossible, by the fear of facing the detective, that he hadn’t killed more people, and it was clear he was being followed.

That makes sense, you thought, if you weren’t sent to that province because of work, like Sangmin, you were hiding, and he was just like Gyeong-ah and you, escaping from things that had happened in the past, or perhaps, things that were still happening now.

But you hadn’t felt so safe in so long, because you knew that, with him, nothing would snatch you next to your house, and that no one would be able to enter your house, or that your oven was never going to magically explode.

With him by your side everything was okay, you were okay, and that was enough to make all those preoccupations disappear.

When you got to your entrance you let his hand go to open the principal door with your key, and he was behind you, observing you, you could feel his eyes on the back of your head, but when you turned to him, he let his eyes fall to the floor.

‘’Do you want to drink some coffee?’’ you asked, and he nodded, following you inside and walking up the stairs until you got to your little apartment.

It wasn’t amazing, but it was yours. You didn’t have an elevator, and you always had to go up to the fifth floor to let your clothes dry with a big basket, but it was okay, you liked your building, your neighbors were quiet, and you felt safe and sound there. Until that happened.

Inside your room you let him close the door for you, and you didn’t feel the need to immediately put the secure on, leaving your coat on the hanger instead, and taking off your shoes, you walked to your little kitchen, putting water in an electric kettle to boil it.

You could cook in your kitchen, but you never used the oven, and you preferred the electric kettle over the traditional one because once the water was done, it would automatically turn off.

Then you sat on the floor, leaving two cups, sugar and coffee over the little wooden table you had, and turning on the TV, you looked at him in the eyes until he sat beside you on the floor.

He was wearing an ugly grey sweater that kind of smelled like fish, mascaraed with what you identified as the cheap deodorant you sold in the store, but you were used to the fish smell he had, so you didn’t mind.

‘’Do you mind if I take a shower?’’ He said not much after.

You nodded, the news had just started, and you mindlessly changed the channel to try to find anything interesting.

‘’Sure, there are towels in the cabinet, I’ll get you some clothes, they’re mine, but I’m sure they’ll fit you’’ you said, and he didn’t waste a second to walk to your bathroom.

You gulped while changing the channels, you knew what you were going to do, but you hadn’t done it in so long, you needed a second to recognize what that sensation forming on your abdomen was.

You hadn’t done anything at all, and you felt yourself already getting wet inside your panties.

The click the jug did after the water was done caught your attention and you stood up to get the water, pulling out the cord from the plug, but knowing you had to get him his clothes, you walked to your little closet to find a t-shirt and some pants that could fit him.

He wasn’t buff at all, but he was lean, a normal guy there, not fat, not big, not small, and taller than normal, so you decided to find the biggest clothes you had.

You were choosing when you heard the door open and you felt him walking behind you, hands surrounding your waist and wetting your back with the drops that were still sliding down his chest.

‘’I chose this’’ you said, lifting the clothes so he could see them, feeling his breath touch the side of your neck and his nose brushing your skin.

‘’I’ll wear them later then’’ he answered, pushing you to your closed closet and making you turn to him.

You weren’t that short, but just then you noticed how much taller than you he was. He made you lift your eyes to him with a touch to your hands, taking the clothes from your hands and letting them fall to the floor.

‘’I- I don’t remember much how this was… it’s been years for me’’ you admitted, and he nodded.

‘’It’s been years for me too’’ he said, not as ashamed as you.

With the same hand that tossed the clothes, he made you look at him and accept his mouth over yours, taking the lead in the kiss and erasing all your thoughts.

It felt good, his lips were chapped, and he had the taste of smoke in his mouth, but you didn’t mind, it finally tasted good, and moving your hands to his neck, you let him press his body against yours, the lower half of his body only covered by one of your towels.

He wasn’t hard, but you could feel something poking at the front of your jeans, and you wanted him to lay on your bed, so after a couple of long minutes, and just after he had enough of your mouth, you murmured something.

‘’Let’s go to my bed’’ you begged with hazy eyes and weak legs, leaning onto him, who was holding you with his body against your closet doors.

He nodded, and taking your hand, he guided you there, making you sit and look up to him.

Your lights were on, and you felt nervous, you had never had sex with the lights on, you only had a couple of partners, and they always turned them off before fucking you.

‘’You can turn off the lights if you want’’ you said, looking at him in the eyes.

He didn’t answer, his hand went to your cheek, and he pressed the tips of his fingers over your skin, caressing it and then brushing your wet lips after all his kisses, slightly red and plump thanks to the way his lips covered them.

He didn’t acknowledge what you said, bending down to retake the contact between both mouths.

Full of life, unlike his usual demeanor, eager, he pushed you to your back, making you receive him between your legs.

Slightly harder, you felt the border of his boner only covered by the fabric damp your jeans, but he didn’t stop kissing you, one hand lying on your neck and the other helping him stay still over you to not let all his weight crush you.

You opened your legs as much as you could with the jeans stopping you from going too far.

‘’You know what I’ll do to you’’ he said after a minute.

You nodded.

‘’I won’t stop’’ he warned.

‘’I don’t want you to’’ you answered.

You knew no one was going to save you from that place, it wasn’t his job, so you’d accept this as enough, and you’d let him go without resentment and an I should’ve done it.

‘’Will you be okay?’’ he asked, afraid of hurting you more.

‘’I want this to happen’’ you said, making him look at you, caress your cheek once again, and give you another kiss before his hands went to your button and helped you take your jeans off.

Sliding the clothing off your legs, he pushed your thighs wide open, and feeling the texture of the towel, his now hard cock against your clothed clit made you whimper.

‘’It feels good’’ you said, to what he agreed with you.

‘’It feels good’’ he affirmed.

He did soft movements to stimulate you with his cock, only letting you feel what would soon be inside you.

Looking at your eyes flutter, he pushed up your shirt, showing him your black bra hugging your chest.

Touching the skin uncovered by your cups, he pressed his thumb to see how far it could sink into your skin.

Your chest was bigger than normal, just like your tummy, but he liked it, it looked comforting and soft, perfect for him to rest a little bit, after his exhausting life, it looked like a taste of paradise.

You pushed his hands while taking your shirt off without asking, to then unhook your bra and toss it to the floor.

‘’Touch me properly’’ you said, making him snicker.

You had forgotten how that little grin looked like, and you smiled when it appeared again.

‘’Okay,’’ he replied, unabashedly grabbing both tits and groping them, looking at how the skin flooded his grip between fingers, and feeling good with both sensations, his cock against your cunt, and his hands in your chest, you closed your eyes and moaned, moving your head to your side and cover your mouth with the back of your hand.

He didn’t let you hide yourself for long, making you open your mouth for him and pushing his tongue inside your mouth, obliging you to let the moans out.

Your panties were incredibly wet, and he left one of your tits free to sneak a hand inside them.

Juices gladly receiving him, he groaned when he felt you dripping all over his fingers.

Without asking, just like when you took your shirt, he introduced a finger.

You cried with his mouth over yours.

His finger was long, and it sent a delicious shock to your core, making you frown at how good it felt.

‘’More’’ you begged, and he gladly obliged, pushing one more finger to make scissoring motions and prepare you for him.

‘’Shit, it’s begging for it’’ he groaned when he heard how much your insides were squelching, asking for him to fill you up.

‘’Yes, yes’’ you cried, listening to his nasty approbations telling you how good you’d take him, and how much he couldn’t wait to fill that sweet pussy of yours.

Fucking you with his fingers, you moaned as much as you wanted, not caring to hide anymore, it was your only night with him, so you decided to not hold anything.

His mouth went to your nipple, tits falling to the sides of how heavy they were and shaking with his attention to your cunt.

He licked them, first with just the tip of his tongue, but then let it flat so it covered your buds and made you shake even more.

‘’Su- so good’’ you cried.

His fingers were making you dizzy, and you had to get up on your elbows to see his hand inside your panties moving to make you cum.

It was hard to see yourself like that, so naked, so exposed.

You couldn’t hide the way your tummy rolls were in front of his eyes, the marks on your skin, or the way your big tits didn’t look perfect on your body, but he seemed to not care, even liking it, guiding his mouth to your nipples again and looking into your eyes when he left soft pecks over them.

‘’You’re going to cum for me, right?’’ he murmured when you started to clench over him.

‘’I-I don’t know’’ you cried, never having an orgasm with your partners before, you didn’t know if that was an orgasm, or what the hell was it.

‘’You’re going to’’ he didn’t ask, ‘’and it’s because of my fingers, so good’’ he pushed his fingers faster and harder, stretching your panties with how brutal he was.

You couldn’t maintain your position and dropped over your back, crying with your walls pulsating around him.

‘’That’s it, so fucking good, my good girl’’ he said still moving his fingers.

You tried to push his hand away, eyes rolling to the back of your head and tears falling down your cheeks of overstimulation, and he stopped when you left a singular loud cry out, but only to take off your messed underwear and toss the towel wrapping his hips.

He let you take a second to breathe properly again, and pushing up your legs, he made you show him your glossy cunt, lips open and ready for him.

He couldn’t help it, it was all shiny and pretty, he had to taste it a little bit, and sinking to his knees over the floor, he pulled your body to the border of the bed, mouth going directly to your pussy.

Drinking your orgasm, the slurping sound was so nasty you had to put your hands over your face, cheeks burning with embarrassment.

‘’That’s too much’’ you tried to stop him, but he, mouth still stuck to your entrance, and nose poking at your clit, denied with his head, smearing your arousal over his face.

‘’You have no idea all the things I want to do to you’’ he replied, pushing his thumb to your opening, and pressing his tongue over your clit this time.

You cried, hands going to his wet hair and trying to pull him away, but he was stronger than you, and you never had a chance to stop him.

You couldn’t fight him, so you wanted to finish quickly instead, hips jolting to feel him more and grasp that sweet second orgasm you felt coming.

About to call his name, he separated and said something before going back to his work.

‘’Lee Tang’’ he said, and that was enough for you to know what he meant.

That was his name, not Gyeong-su, but Lee Tang, and you thought, that fits him a lot more.

‘’Lee… Tang’’ you said as you could, and then the only thing that came out of your mouth was a ton of Tang, Tang, repeating proudly his real name.

You were so close that you could feel your toes curling, walls ready to let your orgasm free and relax again, and your back was curving, your body needing to cum once again because of him.

But he was so cruel.

He stopped, and getting up his knees, he thumbed your clit, flicking the little button a couple of times before he slid his dick between your lips, making you feel his length resting over you.

‘’Please, I’m so close, please’’ you saw the light of your room above him, watching his dark eyes examine you, searching for another answer in your eyes.

You left a disappointed cry when he, instead of touching, walked away to grab his jacket hung next to yours, and sitting, you saw him pull a little box from his pocket.

So that’s why he made me wait for him outside, you thought, he didn’t want you to see what he was buying.

Opening the film package, you saw him sliding the condom over his member with experience, walking back at you and showing you how it looked, slightly jumping over the air, standing hard and thick, and pushing you to your back again, he pressed his tip on your entrance, making you clench over it, and nodded to your past pleading. ‘’You deserve it’’ he said before pushing his member inside.

He didn’t let you adjust, but you didn’t need it, you just wanted him to keep moving, and soon that soft pace wasn’t enough for you.

‘’Fuck’’ you couldn’t hold the curses in your throat.

It felt so good, the weight of his member inside, pushing the limits of your walls, taking what he wanted from you, it was so good your hands searched for something of him to grip, finding his hands over your hips to maintain you in your place for him.

‘’Tang, so good, please make me cum’’ you cried.

One of his hands interlocked with yours, helping you find comfort between all the intense sensations your insides were feeling.

You looked so good under him, your chubby torse facing him, showing him everything he wanted to see, and your thighs jiggling with each of his thrusts.

You were close, and so was he, but he needed something more, a little thing that had been wandering inside his mind since he started to see you differently.

‘’Can you turn for me?’’ he asked, needing to see your pretty ass taking him.

Not answering, you immediately crawled further in your bed, and searching for your pillow, you hugged it, pressing your face to your bedsheets and showing him your ass without any ounce of shame left.

‘’Fuck me’’ you begged again, opening your lips with your fingers and showing him your entrance gaping around nothing, ‘’Tang, please fuck me.’’

His breath stopped, he had never seen something that bold and hot before, and he admired your needy side calling for him to calm you.

Going to you, he pushed his entire length inside, bottoming out and pushing it inside in a single thrust to see your gorgeous back and thick thighs trembling with his cock.

You were crying and hugging your pillow, shoulders becoming smaller and one of your hands on your back searching for his to hold it again.

Lee Tang, not daring to ignore you, his good girl, like that, held your hand.

‘’You’re the one who wanted me to fuck you, and now you can’t take it?’’ he teased, not liking how much he was spoiling you.

‘’No, I can take it, please don’t stop’’ you implored, feeling his hard and fast thrusts pushing your sanity away.

He didn’t care how weak he was to you, feeling your walls wrapping around him like that was like nothing he had felt before, watching the curves of your waist interrupted with your little fat rolls, your ass bouncing against his pelvis with his strength, taking his cock like a gift, and your hand not letting him go even with how hard he was being with you, was everything he ever needed.

Hearing your sweet moans and cries all out when you came, with your sweet walls fluttering around him, pushed the last string inside him, and he pressed his cock inside you to let everything out in the condom.

‘’Tang-‘’ you gripped his hand harder.

‘’Yes baby, I’m cumming’’ he exhaled, letting all inside you.

‘’Okay’’ you said happy.

He wished he could stay connected to you forever, but he couldn’t, and he had to pull out of you to make sure the condom, and you, were alright.

Going to the bathroom to toss it in the trash, he looked at his reflection in the mirror, not recognizing himself with how relaxed he looked.

Tense all the time, he saw his eyes drowsy, ready to rest the whole night.

You, lying on your side to catch your breath, hoped that he could at least spend this night with you, his last night there, but maybe that was too much to ask.

When he came you didn’t look at him, and he simply accommodated behind you, spooning you with a hand over your tummy, letting his hand land there, and sighed.

‘’Let’s get inside the covers, the night is cold’’ he murmured, and you followed his request.

Under your bedsheets, a lot warmer thanks to the fabric and his skin, your mind started to drift away, so you looked at him one last time before falling asleep, closing your eyes when he left a last kiss over your lips.

When you woke up you were alone, feeling incredibly sore, and sad.

You stood up to drink a glass of water, not thinking much about how lonely you felt, concentrating on what would you do later that day to fill your head.

Would you be able to stay? You doubted it, you had too many memories here, and maybe the driver was right, all of you would leave one day.

You were about to go back to bed when you saw a little note next to your electric kettle.

I’ll come back in three weeks was written, and you closed your eyes, happy to not be abandoned again.

You had to stay so he could find you, that was your home now.

#lee tang #lee tang x reader #a killer paradox #choi wooshik #choi woo shik smut #lee tang smut #kpop smut #kdrama smut #i have no idea what tags to put #why can't i find more fics of this man #plus size reader #chubby reader #choi wooshik smut

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jishyucks · 1 year

Text

Me, You, and the View ‣ lmk

‣ pairing: mark lee x reader

‣ genre: FLUFF, f2l (in a way), 'our friends left us and it's just us left' trope, slice-of-life!au

‣ wc: 5.5k

‣ summary: after being ditched by your entire friend group on an out-of-town trip, you and your (not-so-close) friend Mark are left alone to explore the destination together

‣ warnings?: reader has a fear of heights, mark is very mark in this, he feeds the wildlife some fries

‣ an: something I wrote for no reason, I just found the idea cute,,, also I know those things aren't called gondolas but thts what we call those here where I live,,, anyways some of this stuff is taken straight from Mark's antics in that one 127 hit the states video (you'll know which one it is when you read); anyways thanks to my bestie @hoonieji for reading over my shite again <33 PLS ENJOY AS ALWAYS!

The best word that could describe how you’re currently feeling is appalled.

Appalled because the friends with whom you planned this trip to the Rockies have decided to break off with their own significant others without you. Sure, you were still the supportive friend you always were with their SOs, but you thought that would be later and with a warning at least. Not first thing in the morning.

“I guess it’s just us, then?”

Mark awkwardly stands at your side, hands stuffed deep into his hoodie. His hood’s falling off of his head as he turns to look at you. He quickly tugs it back up, but you notice that the hood gets tucked behind one ear.

“Yeah,” you say, “I guess.”

It’s not like you hated Mark (cause who in the world would hate Mark?)... it was more so that your relationship with said boy wasn’t as tightly knitted as it was with Donghyuck or Renjun. You weren’t sure you had anything in common with Mark, except for the friends you both shared. Other than that, from what you know, your interests were completely different.

“Or we can just go around alone?” Mark quickly follows up. He laughs awkwardly and kicks at the dirt underneath his sneakers, “Whatever’s fine.”

From the tone in his voice, you can tell he’s slightly upset, “No, it’s fine! I just wasn’t expecting them to just… ditch us like that.”

Mark laughs and nods. “Me too. Let’s go then?”

“Go where?” You questioned. Mark’s already a few steps in front of you, so you’re brought to jog lightly to catch up, “Have you been here before?”

He shakes his head, “No, but I want to go up there.” He points at the top of a mountain, “I just know that the view’s going to be breathtaking.” You follow his finger and see a long trail of gondola lifts travelling up to the top.

“Up there?” You don’t mention your fear of heights. Only because you’re not sure if Mark would make fun of you or not. You guess this is how your mind is conditioned after hanging around Donghyuck too much.

He nods, eyes sparkling but you don’t notice, “Yeah! That’s what I’ve been looking forward to when Hyuck first mentioned the trip.”

The smile on his face makes it harder for you to tell him that you’re afraid to go. You both have already been left alone by your friends, and now you don’t have the heart to leave him alone either. That, and the fact that you didn’t want to be alone in this unknown place.

You’ll just close your eyes the whole way up.

“It sounds fun,” you say, gulping, “Let’s go then.”

You and Mark reach the ticket booth, paying for a round-trip ticket before lining up at the bottom of the mountain. You’re surprised to see that the lines weren’t as long as your parents had warned you about, probably since it’s still early morning, so you and Mark reach the front of the line within five minutes.

“Have you read the safety guidelines?” The worker points to a board standing a few yards away from him. You and Mark both reply with a simple ‘yes’ before slipping the man the first half of the ticket. He lets you through, reminding you to watch your step when getting onto the gondola.

“I’m excited~” Mark comments, plopping down on the seat on the side that would consider him going forwards for the trip. You sit the opposite of him and laugh nervously. You immediately grip the edge of the seat as the door of the cart closes.

“Me too.” You hope Mark doesn’t read through your expression, or hear the slight waver in your voice when you did speak. You’re lucky to see that his attention’s already diverted to the shrinking trees and people waiting for their turn to go on. Although there’s a comfortable silence that settles on top of both of you, you still feel like you both should still be saying something to fill that silence. You’re just not sure what. You leave it be.

The gondola was travelling faster than it looked from the ground, not to mention the fact that it swayed in the slightest every time it reached a connecting pole. You gulp and train your eyes on your shoes, praying that your eyes won’t do as little as flicker to the view outside of the gondola. If you were hooked up to those heart rate monitors at the hospital, you’d be admitted for how fast your heart was beating. You could feel it pounding against your chest.

“Look at those mountains over there!” Mark finally speaks up. You’re compelled to look, but you know that if you did, you’d probably pass out from how high you were—not that you knew how high you and Mark currently were… it just felt high.

“They look… cool,” you comment without moving your head. You trace your laces with your eyes, while your grip around the edge of the seat grew tighter (if that was even possible).

“Oh c’mon, you didn’t even look,” Mark says lightheartedly. It doesn’t take him long to realize what’s happening, eyes reading your body language like a book. At first, he hesitates to speak up, not knowing if he’ll come off as weird if he does reach out, but there’s something in him that pushes him to do so, “Do you want to sit next to me?”

You gulp again, eyes quickly moving to Mark and then back to your feet. Were you being that obvious?

“It’s better on this side,” he says, “You don’t notice how far we’ve gone.”

Your heart warms slightly at the fact that Mark doesn’t even question you, nor does he joke about the distance between you and the ground. Instead, he simply just acts on handing over the comfort you’ve been needing ever since you stepped onto this damn lift. “Can I?” You say quietly, bringing your legs closer underneath you.

Mark nods, then he realizes you couldn’t actually see him nod, “Of course, you can.”

“O-okay,” you take a deep breath and reach out for the seat in front of you. It’s further than you initially thought it was, so you feel that you look rather ridiculous reaching out for nothing.

And that’s when you feel hands grabbing yours.

“Okay, take your time to stand up,” he says softly, “I’ll pull you to my side so you don’t need to look up.” For the second time today, Mark Lee makes your stomach twist in an unusual way.

Or was it just because you were practically hundreds of feet off ground?

You finally build the courage to stand up. Mark waits for your cue to tug gently at your arms, guiding you to the now-empty seat next to him.

There’s a sense of relief when you finally plop down beside Mark, your neck thanking you for finally extending it after what felt like hours of looking down. Mark was right when he said that you wouldn’t be able to tell how far off the ground you both were. He was also right about how pretty the mountains were.

“Thanks,” you sighed quietly, “I felt like I was going to shit myself.”

Mark laughs and offers a kind grin, “It’s nothing. Why didn’t you say anything before we got on?”

You echo his laugh and shrug, “You looked too happy and I didn’t want to say no.” Mark feels himself smile at your reply, letting it hang in the air before it dissolves with no problem. In all honesty, he wouldn’t have forced you to go if he knew you had a fear of heights, but he was glad he was there to give you a sense of comfort in this situation.

The rest of the ride up to the top of the mountain, you train your eyes at what you believe was the end of the trip up. There was a large roofed area that attempted to hide the large gears turning the entire cable line. Just beneath them, you could see ant-sized humans getting off and on the gondolas. You couldn’t help but feel relief bloom in your chest.

“I’m excited!” Mark says from beside you. He jumps a bit in his seat, kicking his legs up like a young child, “I can’t wait to go sightseeing up there.”

The gondola’s brought closer and closer to the end by the second, and before you know it, you and Mark are hopping off of the cart with heavy huffs. You’re ecstatic to feel the ground beneath your feet. And although you’re metres and metres above sea level, ground is ground and you’ll accept anything solid and concrete.

“The air’s very…” you hear Mark take in a big fat whiff of air, “Clear.” The astonishment in his voice makes you giggle.

You give him a look, “Isn’t all air clear?” You both begin to walk out of the roofed area and out to where many other tourists were. People were walking back and forth, some walking up man-made stairs to reach one of the highest points of the mountain.

“Yes, but you know what I mean,” he waves his hand to dismiss the comment he’s made, stuffing his hands into his pockets when a breeze blows past you both, “Are you okay making our way up?”

You nod, “As long as we’re not hanging above ground then I’m fine.” Mark takes this as a green light to start walking up the steps, letting you go first and following closely after.

“When we get up there, I want to take pictures,” Mark says from behind you. You can tell he’s out of breath, but you don’t blame him because you’ve been going up stairs for a good five minutes.

Just under ten minutes, you and Mark finally reach the last step and onto a divided platform at a high point of the mountain. There weren't as many people as you thought there’d be, probably because the top wasn’t the easiest to reach.

Just as earlier, you take in the scene happening in front of you. People were leaning against the railings with big smiles as someone took pictures of them, others stood and just stared off at the view, which you still had yet to see. There were a few families taking breaks at the picnic tables set up in a gathering area in the middle and dogs doing the same next to them.

This itself was already nice to see, you think. Now it was time for the actual view that you and Mark had travelled all the way up here for. It better be worth the fear.

Mark takes the lead again, gesturing for you to follow him up to an empty portion of the railing. His hands were still stuffed deep into the pockets of his hoodie, the air up being cooler than it was at the bottom of the mountain. You can faintly see the huffs of air coming out of your and Mark’s mouths, but the temperature was bearable. Besides, by the end of the trip up, you’ll probably be sweating your ass off.

Once Mark reaches the railings, you hear him gasp before turning to you, urging you to hurry up just a bit. And when it was your turn to get to the rail, you know exactly why Mark’s gasp was not exaggerated.

It was breathtaking. And you suppose that it quite literally sucked the air out of Mark. There was no way to describe the sight except for the fact that it looked like it was pulled straight from a painting. The winding river, narrowed as it reached the end of the vast horizon, the layers of mountains getting lighter the further they got, and the trees presenting shades of autumn that all looked fabricated. It was all too beautiful to be real. There was no way it wasn’t just some abnormally enlarged picture. But the movement of the water stream and the slight swaying of the trees prove you wrong.

“I just….” Mark starts, “Want to sit here forever.” He crosses his arms and rests them on top of the metal fence. Then he brings his head down to sit on top of his arms. He’s bent down in a seemingly uncomfortable way, but by the way, his face relaxes, you know he isn’t.

“It’s definitely so refreshing to see compared to buildings and concrete and almost no trees back home,” you comment before mirroring the way he’s posed.

“You’re right,” he agrees. Mark stands up straight and pulls his phone from his pocket, “Do you want pictures?” He doesn’t even wait for your answer to pull up the camera, standing back just far enough so that you could still see the view behind you.

“Yes please.” You turn your back to him and tell him you want one like that first before actually facing the camera.

Mark holds a thumb up before holding the camera steady to let you know that everything was fine. Your pose, the camera’s position, the view in the back, they were all fine.

There was no problem at all, everything was completely fine.

At least that’s what Mark believes before he finds himself frozen as he stares at your silhouette through his phone. At the back of his mind, he deeply questions why he’s only like this now, when he's had so many other opportunities to actually look at you.

So, why now?

He has no idea why.

“One… one…” he drags on, finger wavering over the white button on the screen.

“Are you okay?” You turn to look at him and Mark sees this through his phone’s screen.

“Sorry,” he apologizes quickly, “I just zoned out there for a second.” Mark watches you get back into position and he quickly snaps a few pictures. Once he believes he’s gotten good shots of you, he hands you his phone, “Can I get some too?”

Without another word, you grab his phone and take pictures of Mark in front of the pretty view. He pulls the most ridiculous poses, but you find it endearing. You grin and pull the phone back to look at the photos. “Send me these?”

“I will when we get back to the hotel,” he nods. You hand him his phone and the both of you take in the view one more time before leaving for another part of the peak. As you and Mark make your way to different points of the peak, you begin to learn that there will simply be no bad sights to see. The surrounding forest area all held its own special view and with each part you encounter, you and Mark take pictures with the desire to capture the moment as it was.

It was nice, actually.

You started the day thinking it wouldn’t reach the expectations you set yourself when you all planned this trip. But you stand corrected when you’re actually enjoying Mark’s company. Thinking about it, it would’ve been a mess with everyone here. At least with Mark, there’s a good balance between pictures, relaxation, and simply joking around. You shouldn’t have judged the day so quickly.

“I’m hungry,” Mark announces, “Do you want to find something to eat up here?”

“What, like acorns or something?” you joke. There was almost nothing but nature, but you do recall seeing a building located a walk’s length from the departure zone of the gondolas.

Mark laughs, shaking his head, “I’m not in the mood for nuts right now. I was thinking ‘bout that building over there.” He points to the same building you were thinking about.

“Sure,” you nod, “I’m pretty thirsty, too.”

After grabbing replenishments, you and Mark decide that it was warm enough to sit outside on one of the empty benches. You’re lucky to even have grabbed one considering there were more people sightseeing.

“I wonder what the others are doing.” You take the biggest gulp of water and then eat the food you settled on. There had been no texts or phone calls from your friends, nor did they let you know where they were going.

Mark shrugs and munches on his own food, “I don’t know, but I bet they’re not having as much fun as us.” His shoulders touch yours slightly as he swings his feet underneath him. You didn’t even notice how close he was sitting to you. The contact tickles your shoulder.

You laugh and joke, “You’re right. I bet you they’re walking in mud right now. Karma for ditching us.” At the corner of your eye, movement catches your attention and you immediately go to look at it. A yelp leaves your lips as you come face to face with a ground squirrel, curiosity getting the best of it as it approaches you and Mark. “Shit, that scared me!”

Mark gasps and starts making noises to attract it. “It’s so cute!” He pulls out a French fry from his meal and stands up to face it, waddling back and forth and mirroring the direction the squirrel was moving, “Hey there!” Then he proceeds to make noises that you believe aren’t even squirrel noises.

This is too cute. You hastily fish your phone out from your pocket and pull up the camera app, recording as much of the interaction as you can.

Mark goes on for an embarrassingly long amount of time before he finally squats down to the animal and looks back at you, “You think it likes fries?”

“Mark, I don’t think we should feed wildlife,” you say seriously, but you’re laughing, only because Mark’s being adorable and you can’t handle it. His eyes give off the same look a kid would have after discovering something exciting. Who would have thought a ground squirrel would have this much of an effect on a grown man?

“Just one won’t hurt, right?” Mark questions. He sticks his hand out and waits for the squirrel to take it, “I feel bad. It looks hungry.” The ground squirrel snatches it out of Mark’s fingers, acquiring the fried potato strip before jetting off.

“Man, it just wanted food.” Mark’s sulky. He stands up and turns to you, “I should’ve kno–“ He cuts himself off before his eyes widen.

“Mark, are you good?”

The boy bursts out into laughter, hand clutching his stomach.

“Mark?” You’re utterly confused, almost feeling left out despite it only being between him and you.

He reaches for your shoulders and turns you to look behind you, “Look!”

You let him turn you and you see why he’s laughing. On a big, white board that’s stuck strategically in the dirt, was a sign that states DO NOT FEED WILDLIFE.

By the time you and Mark have explored a majority of the landmark, you’re both stumbling back and forth from the soreness of your feet. It’s funny because as you’re watching Mark walk, you can see that he can barely even pick his feet up, the back of his sneakers dragging roughly against the gravel. You’re knees feel like buckling from how tired they were from the semi-hiking you’ve been doing the entire day.

“Let’s rest,” you say. It wasn’t even a suggestion or a question. If you kept walking, you felt like your legs were going to betray you and you’ll be tumbling down the stairs.

“I was waiting for you to say,” Mark huffed, hand to the chest. He points to an empty bench right by a sightseeing telescope.

You give him a look, “Why didn’t you just say? What if I never said anything?”

He shrugs and plops down onto the bench, “I didn’t want to hold you back from exploring.”

“And if something happens to you, then what?” your eyes narrow, but the tone in your voice is light. You take the empty spot next to him and slump down so that your head is able to rest against the bench’s backrest. You extend your legs forward and close your eyes.

“Then you’d have to carry me down this mountain,” Mark replies wittily.

You think about it as if he were being serious, “Okay, then I’ll be charging by the hour.”

Mark laughs and notices that you have your eyes closed, “If you want to nap for a bit, you can go ahead. I’ll keep watch.”

You smile softly and thank him. Oddly enough, you never saw Mark as a thoughtful guy. Sure, you knew he was a good guy, but it was just worth pointing out that he has genuinely good intent behind everything he says or does.

When you hear Mark stop kicking his feet against the gravel, you can’t help but take a peek to see what he’s up to.

You open one eye and turn your head in his direction, but you’re only met with Mark staring down at his phone. His fingers fly across the screen for a good minute. You wonder who he’s texting.

“Is it one of the others?”

Mark jumps slightly at your voice, head darting towards your direction, “Huh?”

“Whoever you’re texting.”

“Oh, I’m not texting any of them,” Mark says sheepishly. He hesitates for a moment before opting to turn his phone to you, showing you whatever he’s doing. The notes app stares back at you and there are words written in verses.

“You write?”

He nods, “Well, sorta… just random stuff. It’s how I like to express myself… Do you want to read it?” You realize how special this probably was to him. He’s sharing with you things he’s written that reflect his own emotions.

“I’d love to.” You sit up as he hands you his phone.

Then you read it:

“Winding rivers predictably change unpredictably;

Leaves turn hues that contrast the

Weather is ever-changing but foretold;

Time remains constant, but

no knowledge of what the future will bring;”

“I-it’s still a work in progress and I don’t know what direction I’m headed but—”

“So, living in the now is what’s important,” you say, “At least that’s how I interpret it.”

Mark blinks at you in astonishment. No one he’s shown his written verses to has ever tried to comprehend it, nor did they even appreciate it (besides his English professor, obviously). So when you actually take your time to read it, understand it, and offer your own meaning behind his words, he can’t help but feel his heart skip a beat just for you.

“That’s—”

Mark’s phone rings, interrupting him mid-sentence.

“Oh, it’s Donghyuck.” He quickly answers it and brings the phone up to his ear, excusing himself.

The two of them have a short conversation with the usual back and forth. Then it dies down after a couple of minutes. “Maybe fifteen minutes? Give or take,” Mark estimates, “But you guys can start thinking before we get there… yeah… okay sounds good I think… see you!”

“What’d he say?” You ask, standing to the side of Mark.

“That they want to meet up for dinner,” Mark says, “He says they’re where we were this morning.” Mark stuffs his phone into his pocket and claps his hands together. He brings himself to stand at the railing, breathing it all in. “Goodbye, view.”

You laugh to yourself at Mark and you play along, “We’ll miss you!” It’s funny because you guys are going to be here for another day. It’s a high possibility you’ll be back tomorrow, even if it were for a short while.

Mark looks over at you and smiles, “Let’s not keep the others waiting.”

Although you let Mark lead the way, he still ends up slowing his pace to walk next to you. He’s telling you that it would be better if you sat in the same spot as you did this morning on the gondola, “And I’ll cover your eyes if you get scared.”

You glare at him playfully and furrow your brows, “I can close my own eyes, you know.”

Mark laughs, rolling his eyes, “Yeah but I don’t know, it’s my duty or something since I’m on there with you.” You freeze for a moment, causing the guy to walk a few steps ahead of you. Was he just flirting with you or was it Mark just being… Mark? Mark has always been the type to say things that surfaced from his thoughts.

You shake your head and jog to keep up with him, “Don’t worry about me. I don’t think I’ll freak out this time anyways. It’s just good knowing you’re there just in case, though.” Nudging him playfully, you send him a small smile of reassurance.

“I’m honoured,” Mark gasps, “But I’m serious, if you feel scared anytime during the ride down, just tell me.”

“I will.”

°•. ✿ .•°

Your eyes are close to shutting when you feel a rough tug at your duvet.

“What do you want, Yeri,” you groan, throwing your body around to face her. The lamp on her side of the two-bed room is still turned on and you can’t help but feel blinded when you accidentally look straight at it. Yeri’s wearing a face mask that makes her look like a ghost. You can’t even recall when she even stood up to put it on, nor did you hear her unwrap one.

“Are you mad at me?” She attempts to pout but the mask stops her from any sort of facial expression, “I promise you we didn’t plan to ditch you but–”

“I’m not mad, I’m just tired,” you sit up, clearly understanding that Yeri wants to have a conversation. The sleeve of your oversized shirt falls off one shoulder and you quickly pull it back up. Then, you lean forward towards your own lap and flick it on.

“Okay good!” Yeri exclaims, “Because I have a question that I’ve been meaning to ask you ever since dinner ended but Mark was with us.” Although your best friend still can’t pull the usual expressions she usually makes, you can tell which one she’s pulled off her rack just by the look in her eyes.

Your brow quirks at the mention of Mark, “Why would it matter if Mark was there or not?”

“I wanted to ask you how it went with him.” Yeri grins slightly through her mask, eyes blinking like in those cartoons. She pulls her legs up and crosses them, bouncing on her bed.

“What do you even mean?”

“You and Mark were alone,” she points out, “When was the last time he and you were alone? Never. You guys would look cute together, you know?”

You look at her like she was crazy, knowing exactly what she was implying (though she wasn’t even trying to be subtle), but you try your best to ignore it, “To be honest it was actually fun.” And you’re not lying. You tell Yeri everything, telling her about the trip up to the mountains, the picture-taking, seeing ground squirrels, the trip down—everything. By the looks on Yeri’s face, you can tell she’s overanalyzing everything (exactly how a best friend would).

“If you say anything about Mark and feelings, I will actually kick you right now,” you show her your foot, “I don’t like Mark like that.” You think about what you said in your head. You’re almost completely sure you don’t have any underlying feelings for Mark, but after today, you can’t help but think about the possibility. In childish terms, it wasn’t gross actually having feelings for Mark, it was just odd because you never would think you’d have these feelings, especially since you both weren’t considered close among your friend group. But after your day with him and seeing what it was like being with him, you wouldn’t oppose any feelings if they did come up.

Yeri gives you a look that involved her having to tilt one side of her face closer to you. She looked like that Megamind ‘no bitches’ meme. You raise your foot in threat, “Yeri, don’t look at me like that.”

“I’m just making sure,” she shrugs, backing up.

There’s a knock at the door before you’re even able to reply. You can already guess it’s one of the others. There was no way an employee would willingly serve guests at this ungodly hour. Being closer to the door, an unspoken rule brings you up to your feet to open it, leaving Yeri at her bed (she doesn’t complain).

You look through the peephole and see Donghyuck standing there, Mark trying to drag the younger boy back to their own room. You can see Mark saying something in panic but Hyuck’s choosing to ignore him, eyes staring intently at the door. You open it.

“Go sleep, guys.”

“Oh, great! Y/N, you answered it,” Donghyuck exclaims. Mark’s now attempting to put him in a chokehold, roughly pulling him back. Donghyuck doesn’t budge. It seems that he has superhuman strength whenever he chooses.

“Huh? What do yo—”

“What did you do to him?” Donghyuck grabs Mark by the wrist and points to him. You’re not even sure why you’re not laughing at this point. Donghyuck looks dead serious and Mark looks like he’s going to explode out of stress. It was probably the curiosity keeping you from bursting.

“What do you mean?”

“You broke him,” Donghyuck replies as if it still made sense. Fortunately, he keeps going without question, “I was trying to talk to him, but he wasn’t even listening. You know why? He was staring at his phone like this.” Donghyuck freezes and pretends to gawk at his phone. At this point, Mark’s trying to cover his mouth.

“And why am I to blame?”

When Mark realizes what’s about to be said, he stops restraining Donghyuck and retreats back down the direction of their room. In another universe, his feet would leave tracks of fire.

Donghyuck’s posture sags and he groans, “The picture was of you!”

You freeze. “Me?”

“Her!?” Yeri gasps running to the door, “Mark come back here!”

You look down the hall and Mark’s frozen as if you were all playing a game of red light, green light. There was no way he was going to turn back. He was scared to move. But he knew he was done for.

Meanwhile, your heart’s beating out of your chest because this was news to you. You’re not sure how to react.

“Mark Lee!” Yeri calls. You feel bad for the other guests in the other rooms because the four of you are disrupting the hell out of their sleep. You wonder if the others can hear this going down, “Come back here, or I’m telling auntie you scratched her car!”

Mark’s back at Donghyuck’s side in an instant, but he’s avoiding all possible eye contact with you. Donghyuck’s just laughing at him, bringing his cheeks between his thumb and his index finger.

“Care to explain?” Yeri pushes on, eyes burning holes through Mark’s face. At the back of her mind, she knows that her mask is long overdue, but she doesn’t care about that right now. She wants to know what’s up with Mr. Lee.

“Youlookedreallyprettyinthepicture,” Mark mumbles, eyes glued to the old hotel carpet.

Donghyuck and Yeri, who seemed more invested in this than you were, looked at him and threw him a slap, “Speak clearly!”

“I… um…” Mark’s eyes flicker to his best friend and to you, and then to Yeri, and then back to you before settling to its home staring at the carpet, “Can I talk to Y/N alone?”

Yeri immediately drags Donghyuck into the room, pushing you out in the process. Then, before you know it, the door is shut and you’re alone with Mark in this quiet hallway.

“I wanted to say how I really enjoyed today,” he says quietly. Mark can feel his chest heat up, cheeks following not long after, “And… I was staring at the picture because you looked… really pretty in it.” Mark feels like bolting off, but the deed was halfway done. That, and his feet feel like they’ve been anchored to the floor underneath him.

“Wow… umm, thank you?” you gulp, “But I enjoyed today, too. So much that I was actually a bit bummed when we had to leave…”

Mark’s confidence level rises just a little bit, hearing that you were somehow reciprocating all of this, “When… when we get back home, do you want to go on a… date with me?”

“A date?”

“I-I mean it can be a friendly date if you want, or a date-date if that’s what you want too,” Mark rambles, “I’m okay with what you want. But my question was about a date…date.”

“Ya! Mark Lee! At least make this bearable to watch!” you hear Donghyuck through the door.

“Y/N answer him already, my neck is hurting!” Yeri calls after.

You quickly shoot a glare at the peephole and turn back to Mark, who is now a crimson shade of red, “I would love to go on a date with you, actually. A date-date.”

Mark’s eyes light up at your response, “Really?”

“Yes really.”

Behind the door, you hear Donghyuck and Yeri cheer, followed by slaps that you could guess were a bunch of high-fives.

They were just as ecstatic as Mark was.

Why?

Because Operation: Mountain Trip was a success.

1K notes · View notes

moonlightspencie · 10 months

Text

Devils Roll the Dice…

Description: A new recruit to the BAU catches Reid’s eye. Unfortunately for the both of them, she has a past with someone very close to him. Are they willing to keep secrets just to keep one another? (TWO-PART MINISERIES)

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader

Warnings: alcohol consumption, sexual references/content (i’ll accept 16+ because its definitely not more than pg-13 material but writing anything sexy makes me feel weird if i know teenagers are reading it)

Word Count: 4k

I took a deep breath, looking in the mirror. I knew we were meeting the new recruit today, and just the thought of it exhausted me. Not that I didn’t like meeting new people. I just hated the break in routine.

We had a concrete team. Kate had already joined. We didn’t need anyone else coming in and messing up a very new rhythm we’d found with each other.

I finished tying my tie, pressing it down, and preemptively steeling myself against the new person. Probably some guy who didn’t know the difference between a tyrannical and enforcing sadist. Half of the students I’d met in recent guest lectures only wanted to go into the field because they’d listened too many crime podcasts anyways.

I walked into the bullpen, taking my seat as usual, ready to turn that cold shoulder at the first misstep of whoever this mystery recruit was. Unfortunately, I felt anything but cold when Hotch called our attention to the figure standing in his office doorway. He stood partially in front of her before he allowed her to stand right next to him as he introduced us. My eyes locked onto her at an embarrassing rate, and I felt far more embarrassed when she caught me and flashed a smirk.

She was anything but shy as a newbie, and for some reason that thrilled me. She wasn’t afraid to get into conversation with the team immediately as she unpacked her things at her new desk. She wasn’t afraid to tell Garcia everything she wanted to know. Much to my surprise, she wasn’t afraid to send me the cutest smiles every time she caught my eyes on her.

“Hey,” she said, walking up to me as I stood in the kitchenette.

Truthfully, I needed the time alone because of her. I couldn’t stop looking at her, and it was becoming a problem considering I was supposed to be doing work. She was just so… Different. She was sweet and funny and so attractive it made my mouth dry up.

“Hi,” I said after a moment. “Coffee?”

She nodded, holding out her mug. I filled it up from the pot in my hands after I topped off my own. She blew on it, looking up at me with big eyes. I watched her, not realizing how long it had been until she broke eye contact, a smile settling onto her face.

“You’re gonna keep watching me blow on my coffee?”

I opened my mouth to say something, but fell quiet when she smiled again. She moved the mug from her face.

“Got any advice for me with the BAU?”

I swallowed. “Uh, you came from Intelligence, right?”

She nodded, brows raised. “Yeah. How’d you know?”

“I was listening earlier. You said it to JJ.”

“Alright, so I know one fact about you other than the eidetic memory,” she said with a chuckle.

I smiled softly. “Right. Sorry, I haven’t been very talkative today.”

“That’s okay,” she said, giving me a reassuring smile. “I’ve tried really hard to get into this unit, so I don’t plan on leaving any time soon. We’ll have time to get to know one another.”

I nodded quickly. “Uh, so, advice. Um, I guess you should know this team is a lot like a family. We really care about each other, and we’re pretty close. Especially us field agents.”

“Good to know,” she nodded thoughtfully. “If you have any more wisdom floating around in that big ol’ brain of yours, let me know. I already heard Penelope calling you ‘boy wonder’, so I’d love to see you live up to that reputation.”

She finished off her sentence with a wink, turning away from me and rejoining the others who still gathered around her desk. She was shiny and new, and everyone wanted to know about her. I couldn’t blame them. I’d love to know as much as I could get my hands on.

One thing I learned very quickly is that she had a habit of flirting.

At first, I thought it was a general behavior she exhibited towards everyone. Then, after some keen observation I came to a terrible and exciting realization: she really only flirted with me.

I think most of it was due to the fact that she just liked to see me flustered. She could make it happen very easily, too. All it took was a sly, under-the-breath comment in passing and my face was turning red.

She’d smile at me, enjoying the tint in my cheeks. I’d stare back at her, just glad to see her smile.

Four weeks in and I was entirely wrapped around her finger.

She wasn’t shy about flirting on cases either, though she was always really good about making sure the only thing anyone ever saw was me being a total dork.

I almost never tried flirting back. I was pretty terrible at it anyways. But there were occasions when I’d make an attempt.

We were working on a case that leaned heavily on the geographical profile, meaning: I spent the entire case in the precinct. I finally cracked it after a few days, and the team found themselves at a farm. One of my least favorite places for a case to be, leaving me very thankful that I wasn’t along for the search and rescue. I really only went to the farm because everyone else was there.

By the time that I actually got to the crime scene, the unsub had already been apprehended. So, I stood near the cars, waiting on the others to come back. It was several minutes before I heard Hotch and Derek walking up and talking to one another. I turned as the rest of the team followed several steps behind. Y/N came into view last, and I couldn’t help but let out a laugh as she walked closer.

She gave me an exasperated smile, throwing her arms up as I took her in. She was covered in dried mud, clearly having taken a fall somewhere gross.

“I tripped and fell while doing absolutely nothing. I feel like you, all clumsy,” she joked, laughing.

I smiled, looking her up and down.

“How are you still pretty covered in dirt?”

“You can’t do that,” she said quickly, looking over her shoulder. “Not right now, anyways.”

I scrunched up my face. She had been much more forwardly flirtatious on cases before now. I couldn’t fathom how this was any different, especially since all I did was make a flirty comment. I guess my facial expression could’ve conveyed more. I seemed to have a hard time concealing my feelings for her when she looked at me the way she did.

“Why?”

She looked behind her again, like she was keeping an eye out for someone. But the only person there was Morgan. Maybe she was afraid of him telling on us for flirting on the job. But he was the one that relentlessly flirted with everyone else. Why would he be coming after us? Maybe she didn’t know that well enough.

“Morgan flirts with people all the time. He’s not going to—”

“Spencer,” she groaned, grabbing my arm and pulling me behind the SUV.

I furrowed my brow again. “What?”

“If I tell you something, you have to promise not to get weird about it.”

“Get… Weird?”

“Like, don’t be all freaked out,” she clarified.

“Okay,” I said, unsure where this was heading.

She cleared her throat, stealing one more glance at him. She looked back at me, chewing her lip with a coy smile. I had a feeling that now wasn’t the time, but I blushed, unable to stop myself from fully taking her in. Luckily, my upstairs brain started working again just in time to give all my attention to her as she started speaking.

“I’m sure this will make things a little awkward,” she stated, sighing softly, “but, he and I… Uh, Derek and I, we have a history.”

I quirked a brow. “Oh? How?”

She stared at me, expecting me to take a hint that I was most certainly not picking up on.

“We… We were involved. Romantically.”

My brows shot up. “Oh.”

“Yeah. It was only like five months, really, but,” she shrugged. “That happened. Hence why it’s been a little awkward between us.”

She said that bit like it was the most obvious thing in the world, but I hadn’t been any the wiser about it. Maybe it was just another case of me being a little more oblivious than some of my coworkers about behaviors that didn’t have to do with the job. Maybe I was just too enamored with her to pay attention to how she interacted with our coworker.

“I didn’t notice,” I said quietly.

“Good. I’ve been hoping to keep it on the down-low,” she said with a laugh. “I haven’t exactly wanted to endure teasing from the team about sleeping with Derek of all people.”

I swallowed, not having thought about the fact that she’d been… Physical with him. More so, that he’d gotten to be with her in that way. He’d seen her. Heard her. Felt her. All of her. I took in a breath, clearing my head of that image.

“I’m sorry, I should’ve told you sooner if I was going to keep flirting like this,” she said, suddenly a little shy as she shoved her hands in her pockets. “I know you two are close.”

“Yeah. I’m surprised he didn’t tell us about you.”

She laughed. “Our relationship wasn’t completely… A serious thing.”

“Serious enough to last five months.”

She snorted. “Most of the time we spent together wasn’t exactly romantic. He was great, but we both kind of used each other. Hard time in life for both of us back then.”

“Ah,” I said, nodding curtly. “So it was mostly, uh— Sexual?”

She smirked, looking away. “Not entirely just that. But that was a lot of it.”

I nodded again, feeling my cheeks flush. She nudged my arm, pulling my attention again.

“It’s been well over a year now since that all happened,” she said quietly. “I just… I don’t want to rock the boat right now. Being new to the unit, I should probably try my best to be on everyone’s good side, you know?”

“I get it. I’ll stop with the flirting,” I said, giving what I hoped was an affirming smile.

She furrowed her brow. “That’s not what I meant.”

“It isn’t?”

“The flirting is fine, I just think… Maybe we should keep it a little more quiet when we’re around the others,” she shrugged. “If that’s okay.”

“You’re okay with me— doing that?”

“Spencer, I don’t know if you know this, but you’re crazy hot.”

I was certainly blushing now. I swallowed, blinking in surprise as I looked at her. Her smile only grew. She enjoyed teasing me. I couldn’t say I didn’t like it just as much as she did.

“Uh, th-thank you?”

She rolled her eyes. “Quit acting so shy as if you don’t already know.”

My eyes widened. “I’m not acting.”

“Every woman who meets you flirts with you.”

“No they don’t,” I argued, my brows knitting together.

“Are you blind?”

“No,” I said, still in a state of confusion.

She laughed it off. “Alright, boy wonder, we’d better join the group. They’re gathering like vultures.”

I followed after her as she integrated into the group where they stood as Hotch spoke. She was so good at finding her way in. I was thrilled to see how she’d find her place in my life going forward.

In the following weeks, she gave me an idea of what that would look like. Stolen glances at every turn had my heart racing. It went even faster every time she found a way to touch me in some inconspicuous way.

A hand on my arm as she asked about the maps I was working on. A brush of fingers as she’d hand me a coffee cup. Her shoulder pressed into mine to whisper to me some detail of a case that really could’ve been said at full volume.

She usually didn’t step past those boundaries though, ever cautious not to let herself get caught out by anyone else. The comments she made towards me were still relentless, however. I didn’t know how she had it hidden so well.

I, however, had much more trouble hiding my attraction, and I was sure I’d heard some of my teammates whispering to each other about it. They’d give me knowing looks every time I got caught out staring at her. Even Morgan gave what seemed like mostly-good natured glances my way when I paid a bit too much attention to her. Probably only because he didn’t know that I knew about them, and even more likely didn’t want anyone else to know. It would be a tell-tale sign if he didn’t make fun of me.

It felt wrong to be keeping this odd little secret from him. I wasn’t necessarily sneaking around with his ex-girlfriend, but we were still flirting. We were still hiding something from him. I wondered how he’d react if he found out, and hoped for my sake that he was well and truly over it.

Especially after our last night on a case in Georgia. The summer air in the state was hot, and it felt like it was actively pulling air from my lungs every time I went outside. Maybe it was some kind of metaphor for what was to come.

I held back for hours from going to her door. The teasing had been terribly relentless the entire time we were on the case, and the week before. Tension was building, and I knew if I was easily picking up on it, she definitely had to be.

I paced around my room, contemplating my options. If I went to her, there was a chance we’d finally talk about whatever was happening between us. There was also a chance she’d tell me to leave if I attempted to tell her how I really felt, and I’d be left pining over her probably forever. Both were pretty scary.

Either way, I decided it was better than continuing to fall for her without having a real conversation about it. I walked to the door, my hand on the handle.

She stood just outside my door, her hand raised as if she was about to knock when I tugged it open. A smile graced her pretty lips, her hand dropping.

“Looks like we had the same idea,” she stated, pushing past me into my room. “Good timing.”

“It was.”

She chewed at her lip, looking around the space with her arms crossed. I stared at her as she took it all in, waiting for whatever was on her mind to be put out into the open. She looked back at me, apparently reading my mind.

“We’re both waiting on each other to speak up, huh?”

I nodded. “Yeah.”

“This is a ridiculous thing we’re doing right now. It’s like sneaking around with any of the fun parts,” she said with a laugh.

“I think it’s fun,” I shrugged.

“It could be more fun.”

I swallowed. “Yeah. But I’m happy just to have your attention.”

She smirked, walking towards me.

“I think you’re kind of needy.”

“Maybe.”

“It’s cute.”

I blushed, giving her a smile as I looked away. She still looked at me like she was about to devour me. I could sympathize with all of those animals I saw in nature documentaries as the predator closed in on them. It was in vivid color. She stalked closer and closer, knowing full well that my guard was down enough for her to launch an attack.

“You really enjoy this, don’t you?” I asked. “Knowing you make me flustered. Half of the time I can hardly talk when I’m around you. Everyone knows it, and they all think it’s one-sided.”

She leaned her chest into mine, surely able to feel how fast my heart beat for her.

“Are you embarrassed by it?”

“No.”

Her hands crept their way up under my shirt, leaving goosebumps in their wake as if her touch didn’t feel as hot as the sun. I watched her silently, letting her do whatever she wanted. She couldn’t asked me to jump out of the seventh-floor window with her and I would’ve gone head first without a question.

Panic only crept in when she started leaning in closer to my face, and I realized her lips were on a path that would end with mine.

“Wait,” I said, grabbing her wrists.

Her eyes widened, pulling her head back slightly.

“Are you okay?”

“I just don’t think this is a good idea,” I breathed out.

She retreated from me, and it was hard not to let my body follow hers. She was only a step away, but it felt like a continent’s worth of space. My fingers itched to reach out and pull her back in.

“I’m sorry,” I said quietly, eyes wandering over her face.

She swallowed. “I don’t know what you want, Spence. One minute you’re telling me you want me, the next you’re pushing me away.”

Logic kept trying to overtake my head. It was annoying.

“I can’t… You’re Morgan’s ex.”

She sighed. “I’m also a human being. I am my own person separate from him. One that is very attracted to you.”

I wet my lips, not missing how her eyes followed the action. I felt a fluttering in my stomach just watching her react. She smiled, as always, catching me in the act of being wildly into her. She took half a step forward.

“You’re telling me this is a bad idea, but every time I look at you I’m getting a different message.”

I swallowed. “I know.”

“So, which is it?”

“It is a bad idea,” I started, intending on making it a whole sentence, but not knowing what to say next.

“But?”

“But I don’t know if I care enough to stop it.”

She smirked again, not holding back this time. She reached up, pulling me down to her lips with her hands wrapped in my hair. I wound my arms around her waist, pulling her tightly into me. I relished feeling her body fully pressed against mine, especially when she let out a contented sigh as I deepened the kiss. She started guiding my backwards towards the bed, and I obliged her silent request until the backs of my knees were against the mattress.

“Sit,” she requested, the word whispered against my lips.

I did, peering up at her as she staying standing in between my legs. She grasped my chin in her soft hand, tilting up my head to see me.

“How sure about this are you?”

“I don’t know,” I answered truthfully.

She smiled. “Good. I don’t either.”

She dropped into my lap, kissing me like we hadn’t even stopped in the first place. My hands gripped her hips for the first time, and she was everything I had daydreamed about. Soft and responsive. I couldn’t imagine being the one to let her go, and I found myself questioning Morgan’s judgment in that moment.

It made me feel even better every time she smiled or made a little comment about the ways I reacted to her. Usually I’d be embarrassed, but she just made me feel good.

“Sweet boy,” she mumbled against me, moving her lips from my jaw and down my neck.

My hands found themselves wandering across her back, and my eyes were practically stuck shut as I felt her lips against my skin. I could’ve died right then and there and been happy to go.

But a knock at the door sent us both into high alert. She sat up straight, looking towards the door.

I stood with her legs still wrapped around me before I turned and dropped her on the bed. She bounced on the mattress, looking up at me with a surprised smile.

“Just— Stay here and stay quiet. Please,” I said, then walked to the door, trying to frantically fix my hair.

I cleared my throat as I opened the door, forcing myself to not look like I was embarrassingly close to…

I shook myself out of that thought the second I saw Morgan. He definitely put an end to any sexy thoughts that clouded my head.

“Hey, kid, can I ask you something?”

I furrowed my brow. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah,” he nodded. “I just… Do you know what’s been up with JJ? She’s been a little off. Won’t really talk to me, so I was wondering if she said anything to you.”

I let out a breath of relief. “No, she hasn’t told me anything. But I know Henry’s been pretty sick the past week. Maybe that’s it.”

“Hm,” he hummed, nodding slowly. “Alright, thanks. Just… Worried, you know?”

“Yeah,” I nodded. “It’s JJ, though. She’ll be okay.”

“Right, yeah, I know,” he nodded again. “Alright. Thanks, again. You get some sleep tonight, alright?”

I nodded, bidding him a goodnight. I shut the door, seeing her on the bed still. She was propped up on her elbows, smirking at me.

“That ruin the mood?”

I locked the door.

“Not particularly.”

To my surprise, she ended up being the one who wanted to take it slow. We kissed for another hour or so when I got back within her reach, but didn’t go much further. Not that I was in a position to complain. I was ecstatic just to be touching her, and she somehow felt the same about me. I wasn’t sure I’d ever understand why that was.

She’d told me when I’d dropped onto the bed, crawling over top of her, that she didn’t want to go all the way. She said it so sweet. Almost like she was afraid of whatever answer I’d give to her. As if I’d say I didn’t want to kiss her all night long.

Besides, I was pretty sure I’d spontaneously combust if we had gone any further.

We woke up the next morning, still holding onto one another. She had changed into my t-shirt before she climbed into bed with me, and looked absolutely incredible with her messy bed-head and sleepy smile.

“Good morning,” she mumbled.

“It is a very good morning,” I said, pressing a soft kiss to her lips.

Her hand pressed against my cheek, the smile spreading on her face as she looked at me.

“You’re adorable,” she said quietly, granting me another kiss.

I sighed. “I don’t think I want to stop this.”

“Why would we?” she asked with an incredulous smile.

“Because, I mean, we can’t tell anyone about us,” I said with a shrug. “I just thought you wouldn’t want to make this— A thing.”

She wet her lips. “We don’t have to tell anyone in order to be together.”

I contemplated that for a moment. I’d never considered having a completely private relationship. At least not with someone who wasn’t actively being stalked. That was an entirely different scenario. I guess to her, it was probably scary to get into a relationship with one of your ex’s best friends. I couldn’t blame her for that.

I took a breath. “You… You want to keep it a secret?”

She nodded. “If that’s okay with you.”

“I’ll do whatever you want,” I said with a nod, not bothering to filter my thoughts as they came out into the open.

She smiled. “Anything?”

“Almost. I draw the line at murder.”

She laughed. “Team’d catch you anyways.”

I laughed right back, giving her another kiss. She leaned into my touch, shyness creeping into her face.

“I do really like you, Spencer.”

I nodded. “I do too.”

“This’ll be great, you know?”

She smiled brightly, causing one to form on my face. She brushed my hair away from my face, just looking at me.

“Yeah. I know.”

…ANGELS ROLL THEIR EYES (part 2)

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid reader insert #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds reader insert #reid x y/n #reid x you #reid x reader

478 notes · View notes

wwilsonbarness · 11 months

Text

all yours

pairings: Bucky Barnes x y/n reader

summary: you show Bucky the fanfic you found about him and he likes it

warnings: fluff, slight mention of smut, bucky and reader poke fun at some fanfic but this in no way reflects my feelings :)

word count: 2008

a/n: AHHH my heart can’t handle soft Bucky!! I love him so much

Feedback, likes and reblogs are much appreciated :)

I do not give permission for my work to be copied, reposted or translated on any other platform.

masterlist

You quickly sent Bucky a text letting him know you were about to leave, he had just gotten back from a 2 week long mission and you had offered to pick him up knowing he would be exhausted. The compound was only a 20 minute drive from the apartment you and Bucky recently moved into after a year of dating. Part of you still couldn’t believe you were dating the Bucky Barnes, the man you had only heard bad things about on the news, people labelling him as a murderer, a bad guy with a troubled past. It only took spending a few minutes with him to realise he was anything but a bad guy. Yes, he had a past but doesn’t everyone?

Traffic was a bit heavier than you expected meaning it took just over half an hour to reach the compound, pulling up you see Bucky and Sam arguing like always, they pretended to hate each other but you knew they actually saw each other as one of their closest friends. When you get out of your car and walk over to them you realise what they are arguing about, yet again.

“I should sit in the front next time Sam, it’s only fair”

“How is it fair Bucky? Tell me how it is fair?” Sam argued back.

“Because I” Bucky paused, trying to come up with a reason as to why he shouldn't be forced to be squished in the back seat of the car when he and Sam are on their missions. “Just because I-” before he could continue Sam bursts into a fit of laughter.

This was when you reached them, “what are you two arguing about now?” you ask, whilst playfully rolling your eyes.

“Doll” Bucky says as he pulls you in for a hug, “I missed you”

“I missed you too Buck, how was your mission?” you ask both him and Sam.

Sam is first to answer, “All smooth sailing, but thank god it’s over, I don’t know how you put up with him y/n”

“He’s not that bad” you say back to him, whilst chuckling. “Are you ready to go? I thought we could stop for some pizza on the way home?”

“Yeah, let’s go doll”

“Sam, you wanna join?”

“Thanks y/n but I gotta get inside, Bucky’s left me with all the paperwork”

“Sam, I do the paperwork all the time”

“Yeah yeah”

You can’t help but laugh at them going back and forward with each other, especially with what you read earlier. Somehow you had stumbled across fanfics about your boyfriend, and you couldn’t help but read them, one of them had Bucky and Sam’s friendship written to a tee.

You and Bucky say goodbye to Sam before heading back to your car. The drive home was quiet, but this wasn’t unusual, Bucky usually used this time to mentally recover from the mission he’s been on and you understood that. You made a quick pit stop to pick up the pizza you had agreed to have for dinner and continued driving home.

When you get home you put your favourite show on and both settle into the sofa to eat together. Bucky finished his food a lot quicker than you, he’d mostly likely been eating less than he needed whilst away.

Once he finished his food he cuddled up next to you, “I missed you” he plants a kiss on your shoulder between his words.

“I missed you too baby” Again you tried to hide your laughter, but for a different reason this time. Every story you read had Bucky written out to be this ‘tough guy’ but the truth was he was the complete opposite. He took every chance he could to cuddle with you, normally shrinking himself as small as he could. He was a softie at heart, especially when he was at home with you.

He waits for you to finish your pizza before laying his head into your lap. “You okay Buck?”

He doesn’t say anything but attempts to nod his head. It wasn’t unusual for him to be like this the day he came home from a mission, he needed time to get back into the right mindset and he would always be grateful to you for understanding that.

You continue to rub your fingers through his hair until the credits begin on the TV, “You wanna go to bed?”

“I'm just gonna quickly shower then I'll be through, okay?”

You give him a quick kiss before replying, “Okay baby”

Whilst Bucky is in the shower you clean up the rubbish from dinner and pack away your leftovers, cold pizza was Bucky’s favourite breakfast so you saved some for him.

When you come through to your bedroom Bucky is still in the shower, you quickly change into your pyjamas before getting under the covers. To pass time you pick up your phone, intending to probably open tiktok and watch more cat videos that have taken over your feed. But, when you unlock your phone your screen lights up with safari, specifically open on a story you read earlier about Bucky. Part of you wanted to close it and forget about it but your curiosity took over. You scrolled down and read the title, “The First Date”, as you expected they wrote Bucky as a tough guy with an overwhelming amount of ego, and you couldn’t help but burst into a fit of laughter when you read the line, “Bucky knew he could get any woman he wanted”, your laughter got even louder as you kept reading. They described Bucky as someone with so much confidence and charm, as someone who spent the whole date talking about how he spends his days saving the world, or mansplaining everything to his date in some attempt to show power.

It was so far from who Bucky really was, he was of course charming but not in that way, Bucky hated talking about how he spent most of time working alongside Sam saving people, he hated being praised for it, parts of him still feeling too guilty over his past. And for as far as how the date went in the story, your first date was the complete opposite, Bucky was the sweetest, most caring person, in fact he spent most of the night listening to you talk about your life, how you managed to go from being an assistant to finally being in a position where you could start your own business.

If it wasn’t for you laughing you maybe would have heard the water being turned off, it wasn’t until Bucky came into your room you had realised he was finished. “What’s so funny, doll?”

“Hmm?, Oh nothing” You tried your hardest to keep your laughter down but he could see right through you.

“You sure? I could hear you laughing over the shower”

“Oops sorry” you were slightly embarrassed but you still couldn’t help the smirk appearing on your face.

Bucky quickly threw on some boxers before laying next to you. “So..”

“So.. what” you tried to play innocent but you knew exactly what he was asking.

“What were you laughing at doll?”

You couldn’t quite bring yourself to say it out loud, instead choosing to say “Nothing, you’re just so cute”

“Mhmm” Bucky now took it upon himself to do his signature pout, he knew you wouldn’t be able to resist telling him now.

“Finee, but promise you won’t judge”, you knew he wouldn’t but part of you was still scared. He shot you a confused look so you picked up your phone and opened up the story you had just read. “I found these earlier, and kinda got sucked into reading them” you say as you turn the phone slightly so he can see better.

“What is it?”

“Fanfiction.. about you”

This only furthered his confusion, you could tell he had no idea what you were talking about so you explained further, “It’s like stories, that your fans write about you”

“Fans? I thought most people hated me”

“Noo, there are so many of them, people love you on here” Bucky had never really experienced having fans, he knew Sam had a lot but he never really thought people would get past his winter soldier past.

“Wait, so why were you laughing? Are they funny?”

“Because” you had to stop yourself from laughing before continuing, “listen to this” you go on to explain to him how they portrayed him in the first date story you had just read. By the end of you explaining he was in a fit of laughter.

“Please tell me I wasn’t actually like that on our first date”

“No you were the complete opposite, don't worry, but wait there's more” You search for a story you read earlier that made you laugh so hard you nearly had tears in your eyes.

“Look, listen to this. ‘Bucky had spent the whole morning perfecting his cupcake recipe, hoping to impress his girl’ ” This made Bucky laugh even harder.

“I have never baked a cupcake in my life” It was true, Bucky did not enjoy being in the kitchen at all and it was probably safer for everyone that he avoided it.

“Do you remember when you tried to make pancakes and-” you couldn’t even continue with how hard you were laughing.

“Hey it wasn’t my fault!! The handle just fell off, I didn’t even do anything to it” This only made you laugh harder when you think back to when you heard Bucky scream and walked in to find Bucky holding a pan handle, and pancakes all over the floor.

You were now both uncontrollably laughing,, “I told you they were funny “ You spent a little time reading more stories before Bucky spotted one with a ‘Sambucky’ tag.

“What’s that one?” You shake your head, you hadn’t seen any like this until now. When you clicked on it, it was nearly impossible to stop the giggle that was trying to force its way out of you.

“It’s about you and Sam, being in love” This stopped Bucky’s laughing.

“What?” You read out the first paragraph and he started laughing again. “I have to tell Sam about this, he’s gonna die”

“Please let me be there, I need to see his reaction” You both finished the rest of the story and you had tears in your eyes, this time not of laughter. “That was adorable”, Bucky tried to hide his reaction but he couldn’t.

“Okay, it was actually kinda cute, pick another one, let's read more” You were surprised he found so much joy in reading these but you loved it.

It takes a few minutes to find another one but Bucky chose one called "Our Wedding Night”, it began with ‘He ripped your wedding dress off, no care for how much money it had cost you, he just needed to be close to you’.

You and Bucky turned to each other, shocked, this was not the sweet story you both expected.

“Bucky, I’m telling you right now, if you dare rip my dress on our wedding night I will file for divorce right there” This made Bucky laugh again, “So you wanna marry me?”

“Of course I do, I love you”

“I love you too, Doll” He takes your phone out of your hand and puts it on the table beside you, before pulling off the covers and climbing in between your legs.

“Now” He brings your lips together.

“Let me show you” He kisses your neck whilst unbuttoning your pyjama shirt.

“How I would really treat you” His lips ghost over your nipple causing goosebumps all over. He works his way down until he meets your shorts, he starts to pull them off as you lift yourself up to allow him.

“On our wedding night” He brings his lips face down to your pussy and teases your clit with his lips”

“Bucky please” you whimper. He looks up and grins at you.

“I’m all yours doll”

#all yours #wwilsonbarness #bucky barnes #bucky x reader #buckybarnes x reader #bucky x y/n #buckybarnes x y/n #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes x you #bucky x you #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fic #bucky x female reader #bucky x female yn #james bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #bucky fic

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ghostlygeto · 8 months

Text

never going to be | geto suguru

pairing: geto suguru x fem!reader

warnings: hurt/no comfort, spoilers?? bc half based on the street scene from s2 ep5 but no gojo, talks of death + killing, i’ve never written jjk before sorry if it’s obvious. potential for part two, who knows wif me :3, proof read but it was 7am so i probably missed stuff!

wc: 1.4k

there were several people geto would have anticipated shoko calling after seeing him on the street. he assumed it to be gojo, knowing his best friend would show up and likely give him an ear full. he was ready for it, he had been preparing himself to see satoru since the second he made this choice.

he listened to shoko’s one sided conversation for a little while before she hung up and gave him a smile. “care to wait here with me? someone’s on their way, they want to see you.”

silence fell between the two, geto staring down at his shorter friend and she stared into the crowd, leaning against a pole behind her. he decided to stay, at least for a few minutes. to talk with her.

“you can ask about it,” geto closes his eyes and sighs, “i know you want to.”

“you wouldn’t have run away if it wasn’t true, we all know,” shoko responded, taking a drag of her cigarette, “he was devastated when he found out.”

geto shifted uncomfortably, “i knew he would be.” he waited a second, wondering if he should even ask his next question. “what about-”

“ask her yourself,” shoko threw the unfinished cigarette onto the concrete and stepped on it. “if you get the chance.”

confused could barely sum up how geto felt as his friend started walking away from him. still, he stayed silent, not calling out to her in fear that she’d say something he didn’t want to hear. geto understood the consequences of his actions, the moment he made up his mind he knew that he’d have to abandon everything. jujutsu tech, his friends, you.

it felt almost like a dream when you called out for him. for some reason you were the last person he had expected shoko to call when she found him. but there you were, standing a few feet away from him in your school uniform with tears in your eyes and breathing heavily. you had to have ran all the way here from the school.

“what’re you doing here?” geto tried to keep a straight face, pretend that his heart didn’t ache seeing you. as much as he didn’t want to admit it, you were the hardest part about the decision he made.

leaving you, his girlfriend that had been by his side for as long as he could remember, behind had to be the worst. the two of you had been together since close to the beginning of your first year, you had spent close to every day together since then.

you were his everything. and he was yours, you would do anything for him. you always had and swore you always would. you always tried to fix things for him, covering for him and lying when you didn’t need to to help keep him out of trouble where you could.

which was exactly why you were the last person shoko should’ve called.

“come back, suguru,” you tried to keep your voice stable, unwilling to let him see you cry. you were always so brave, yet another thing he admired about you. “i’ll talk to them, i’ll convince them it’s all just a misunderstan-”

“there is no misunderstanding, y/n,” you hated the way his voice sounded. cold, distant, unbothered. he was trying to shut you out, “the things they’ve said about me are true. i did those things, don’t you understand?”

geto wouldn’t even look at you, and you weren’t sure if it had been for your sake or his. if he looked at you now, he’d see your big eyes staring up at him, tears filled to the brim. and he’d break. he would have to hold you, apologize and beg for your forgiveness. but he didn’t deserve your forgiveness, deep down he hoped you knew that too.

“there has to be something else to it, something you’re not telling us,” you grab into the sleeve of his shirt, forcing him to keep still. he keeps trying to walk away from you. “just tell me the truth suguru, please.”

“what you heard is the truth, y/n. i killed the non-sorcerers. i want to create a world without cursed. the only way to do that is to kill everyone who can’t control it,” he wanted to tear his arm away from your grasp but he couldn’t. your fingers burned the skin on his hand that they had grazed against, so softly it almost hurt. “this is the path i’ve chosen.”

you weren’t sure what to to, or what to say. you didn’t want to accept the fact that he did this. your suguru could never, he was sweet and kind and gentle. but the man before you, that spoke to you in a harsh tone and wouldn’t even look you in the eyes, he somehow seemed to only be a shell. he was not geto suguru.

“take me with you, then. let me do this along side you.”

your words shook him to his core, causing him to finally look you in the eyes. “you’re insane. i could never let you throw everything away like that.” the look he was giving you felt like a combination of anger and disgust, one that almost made you cower in fear. “you’ve got too much going for you there. you’re not doing this with me.”

“and you don’t?” you raised your voice, feeling the lump in your throat grow larger, “you don’t have too much going for you there? you’re going to throw away everything. your friendships with shoko and gojo, your future. our future?”

“this is my future! can’t you see that!” geto surprised himself with how loud his voice came out, not intending to yell at you the way he was. but he couldn’t believe you would say something like that. “i’m creating a better future. for us, y/n. a world without non-sorcerers is a world without curses. a safer world for all of us.”

his words made you feel sick. you were born, chosen, to be a sorcerer to help the people who couldn’t control their cursed energy. how could he turn his back to them like that? how could he turn his back to you?

“if you won’t take me with you, i want you to kill me.” your voice shook, filled with uncertainty and heartbreak.

“what?”

“i don’t want to do this without you, suguru. i can’t. gojo and shoko will understand, i know they will. and you can’t get in trouble if i asked you to do it,” fat tears rolls down your cheeks as you moved your hands to try and wipe them away. though your efforts were worth nothing, because they were quickly replaced with more. “you are my everything.”

geto hesitated for a second. bringing you alongside him was off the table, in no world could he do that to you. the road ahead of him would be harsh and cruel, not something meant for someone as kind and gentle as you. you didn’t need nor deserve that. but to kill you? the only person he’s sure he will ever love?

but how could he deny you this one last thing?

“okay.” your heart freezes at his answer, though you’re almost relieved. “close your eyes. count to ten, don’t open them.”

you did as told, squeezing your eyes closed as you counted to ten in your head. with each number, you gripped the button from his school uniform tighter. gojo had given it to you, saying they found it at the remnants of his crime. muttering something about how “you should have it” before shoving it against your chest and leaving to his room.

when you reached the number ten and nothing happened, you opened one of your eyes. you half expected to see any number of his deadly curses right in front of you, begging to see the look of fear on your face before killing you. or to see him still standing there, to tell you that he’d changed his mind and he’d rather take you with him.

but instead you were met with emptiness. geto suguru nowhere in sight, leaving you alone in the middle of a now quiet street. not absorbed by darkness as you had wanted, but devastated by the idea that maybe geto was always destined to leave. he had now left everyone that cared for him, maybe leaving had been the only card he would ever be dealt. you may have loved him, but it wasn’t enough.

it was never going to be.

reblogs, comments, nd likes appreciated!! <3

#getou suguru x reader #geto x reader #geto suguru angst #jjk x reader #geto suguru x reader #jjk angst #mine !!

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autistichalsin · 4 months

Note

Okay, I’ve been a bit scared because I’ve been observing from the sidelines, but I do want you to know this isn’t a hateful or troll ask, I’m genuinely asking for clarification.

In my experience, “pro-shipping” has always meant ‘problematic shipping’, and all of the people I’ve talked to about this have said the same thing.

Am I the one who’s misconstrued? I really don’t get it.

Being called “pro-harassment” or “pro-censorship” is hurtful and confusing as all hell.

I don’t harass people for what they create. I don’t care to do that. I block and move on, and warn people if I know they could be upset by the content.

But I also don’t understand how certain things are justified.

I am personally not bothered by much, but I have watched friends and acquaintances go through visceral traumatic reactions because people have decided to air out their coping by sharing it with the public. (I.E, people who write romantic incestual fics, etc)

I don’t give a shit what people write. I really don’t. But it feels harmful to use the excuse of coping when you, in turn, could be hurting dozens of others.

Like I said, I genuinely am not trying to be hateful here. I’m confused, and still distraught that all of this is happening. I don’t think anyone deserves to be harassed. I just also don’t get the logic here.

Pro-shipping never once meant problematic shipping. It meant opposite of "anti" because antis would come and invade the tags and asks, calling them all kinds of names if they found their ships distasteful.

Sorry that being indirectly accused of supporting harassment hurt your feelings. Imagine how I felt, being DIRECTLY accused of supporting rape in real life because of my taste in fiction. You are throwing in your lot with people who can't distinguish fantasy and reality.

I don't like incest fics either, anon. They are triggering for me. So you know what I do? I don't read fics tagged as incest. For that reason, I have never been triggered by an incest fic. I suppose I would be if I read an incest fic that wasn't tagged as much, but you will never find a single pro-shipper who defends posting such content without a tag. You are responsible for your own experience online; it is your job to curate the content.

If it was just seeing that the fic exists that triggered the response, then I'm sorry to say they're still in the wrong. As a survivor, learning that triggers exist and how to navigate those triggers is on you. We are responsible for how we deal with our trauma. Your friends didn't deserve their traumas, and they deserve kindness and support, but requesting that people never be allowed to write distasteful fiction so that they don't have to be upset by the idea that someone somewhere shipped incest is not reasonable. Their feelings are valid; it's totally reasonable to be triggered, to strictly curate your online experience. It's reasonable to block everyone who ships the upsetting incest ships, to put an "incest shippers DNI" on your page, all of it. It's not reasonable to call them supporters of IRL incest or to accuse them of causing your trauma. It isn't hard at all on AO3 or Tumblr; they even give you the option to blacklist/filter out certain tags so you can avoid it without blocking users. There's easily half a dozen safeguards that already exist that are a lot less radical, a lot less likely to be weaponized against queer users, and a lot easier to enforce than trying to remove them.

Me writing fics, such as a character using kink to cope, can only harm a user who doesn't curate their feed (and who reads fics they know will trigger them, which I can only assume would then be a purposeful form of self-harm). Denying other survivors their coping mechanism, though, IS a direct form of harm. Stigmatizing recovery by saying that survivors are in any way akin to abusers for creating fiction is a direct form of harm.

It sounds to me like you've absorbed some very harmful and very narrow ideas of what recovery should and should not look like, and what is and isn't a good/valid survivor. You might want to reflect on why you're turning your attention to policing what survivors do to cope so much.

#proship #proshipper #discourse

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pixie-in-a-moonlantern · 1 month

Text

F/M Durgetash one-shot I birthed within a single day. Dead Dove: I don't like Gortash (hence the title), but I do find him mysteriously, annoyingly attractive. Couldn't get him out of my head - so I tried, the best way I knew how - by writing a fic xD. I hope you like it, but it's not essential to my wellbeing, I just really needed to get this off my chest. But it's been fun, so hopefully you'll have fun too.

Explicit 18+, F/M, Enver Gortash / The Dark Urge (old name Talas, new name Nara, some half-elf or other, unimportant), rough sex, cunnilingus, p in v, creampie, some emotional trauma, light stabbing/cutting with a dagger, a bit of aftercare in the form of bathing together.

Yes, Gortash bathes in this story. TWICE. He really needs it :P.

I Don't Like You

01 - Brain worms having a field day.

The night is slowly creeping in, but I’m in no state of mind to sleep. I pace and I rake my hair and I groan. My friends are watching me with concern in their eyes. I can’t blame them—I must look like a lunatic, more so than usually.

I feel like I’m going insane and for a whole new set of reasons than before.

What were we?

Gortash got into my head and now he’s refusing to leave. Was he just trying to mess with me? Did he notice the unmasked disdain in my face and decide to make my skin crawl in revenge? He must know I only have red fog in my brain where my past should be. And he looks just like the kind of man who would lie about it to make me nauseated. No way I’ve ever let those grubby hands touch me.

Yet…

I can hardly admit it to myself, but nausea is not the full extent of my reaction. I feel as if my own body knows this man. My memory is still a blank page, but something in me recognizes him. Something primal. Something hungry.

The urges I’ve been having since meeting Gortash have very little to do with Bhaal.

“Honeymuffin, are you still not ready for bed?”

I hear Halsin’s soothing voice and immediately feel myself relaxing. I turn to him, grateful for the distraction. He’s only dressed in his underpants and the sight of his bushy chest hits a dirty note.

I ignore his question and just press into him, kissing his gentle lips with ferociousness he hasn’t experienced from me yet. He’s responsive and gives in for a few seconds, but then chuckles into my mouth and drags me off of him by the shoulders to inspect me.

“What has gotten into you, my love?”

I groan, freeing myself from his grip. I always appreciate how sensitive he is to my moods and thoughts, but right now, I would die of embarrassment if someone actually found out what’s running through my head.

“I’m just irritated,” I lie through my teeth. “Gortash is one annoying son of a bitch. I hate that we have to pretend to work with him. ‘Notice the way he just kept us there under the threat of violence, to witness his sham of an inauguration? After everything he said about wanting to be partners? Ugh, I could just…” My fists close of their own accord, crushing the imaginary windpipe.

Halsin chuckles again and runs a calloused palm softly along my jaw in a comforting gesture.

“I know, Nara, I know,” he grumbles low, pulling me into a hug. “He irked me, as well. He isn’t worth the stress, though. Let’s sleep. We have another long day ahead of us tomorrow.”

But I can’t sleep. Once Halsin goes into his trance, it’s like he’s not here to hold me together anymore. I toss and turn. I grit my teeth. I grunt and pull on my hair. I try to silence my thoughts with a pillow over my head. It’s no use. I know what I have to do to get some peace of mind.

I get up as quietly as I possibly can. I don’t bother changing—I don’t plan to impress anyone. I just take a small dagger and throw a cloak over my shoulders, so I can hide in the shadows more easily, and sneak out of the inn.

I’m going to make him tell me the truth.

02 - Urge! But not to kill.

Getting into the Wyrmrock is laughably easy. I know the guards would just let me pass, but there’s no way in the Nine Hells I would embarrass myself like that. Little ol’ me going to see “Lord” Gortash in my casual clothes in the middle of the night—what a delicious story for the Baldur’s Mouth it would make. So I utilize every last muscle memory from the past I don’t remember, slipping in completely undetected.

He’s in the throne room, but not sitting on the damned thing. The main section is drowning in darkness, but I see a sliver of light coming from behind the door to one of the adjacent rooms. A study, maybe?

I almost trigger one of the traps as I’m sneaking towards him. There are Steel Watch still stationed around the room, but they appear less than attentive this time. Do they have some sort of down time? Or did Gortash put them in do-not-disturb mode?

I’m trying to not get myself executed, so I push down the instinct to grip the dagger I’m hiding under the cloak. If he wanted me dead, he wouldn’t have made such theatrics to gain my cooperation this morning. The question of whether I wanted him dead remains to be answered.

I take a quiet peek into the warmly lit room and suppress a whistle. It’s a study alright, but one Gortash seems to be using as an apartment—a wide, comfortable, richly adorned bed stands next to his desk, draped in red silk. He’s not in it, though—he sits by the desk, bent over a document, clad only in what looks like a bathrobe.

I try to filter myself through the crack in the door, but the stupid hinges creak so loud I gasp and just inelegantly stumble inside.

Gortash jumps off his chair and twirls around, body taut, eyes alert, a quill in his left hand held like a weapon, the other hand ready to shove the metal claws of his fancy gold netherstone-adorned gauntlet into someone’s eye. I grit my teeth and consider pulling out the dagger—but the second his gaze lands on me, he straightens and lets out a half relieved, half amused chortle.

“Sneaking up on me again?” He shakes his shaggy head. “Are Bhaalists simply unable to set up a meeting, like the rest of us?”

I open my mouth, a scathing comeback ready, but as soon as I let the air in the room in, I’m stunned. There’s a distinct fragrance of soap and perfume, a freshness that only comes from thoroughly scrubbing yourself clean, and, among them, the unmistakable scent of him. The musk that speaks directly to the undamaged parts of my brain.

I can’t believe how clean Gortash looks now. He evidently didn’t plan on any public appearances this late at night, so even his hair is not styled into spikes anymore and it’s just messily sticking out in natural directions, still a little damp from the bath. Funny—he didn’t think to wash before his big inauguration, but he washed now, when no one important is scheduled to see him?

He takes my silence as an opportunity to speak more, instead of waiting for an answer. He tilts his head, gaze slowly gliding down my body, and smirks.

“Shouldn’t you be curled on your bed next to the enormous druid, sleeping soundly? Wouldn’t he be oh so hurt if he knew you were seeking another man’s company?”

“What the fuck would you know?” I snap, his tone setting off a charge of anger inside me. “You don’t know him. Hells, you don’t know me! You don’t get to make snarky remarks about my enormous druid.”

Gortash cackles quietly and puts up his hands in a calming gesture.

“Of course I don’t.” His smirk deepens, his eyes studying my face. “But trust me, kitten. No one…” he takes a seductive little step towards me, “knows you like I do.”

“I doubt that,” I rasp barely audibly, a lump forming in my throat. My guts clench, breath shortening in panic. It’s all just an elaborate joke, I’m sure… but it feels so familiar.

“You really don’t remember,” he quips softly, as if to himself, and I can hear a hint of disappointment in his tone.

“What were we, Gortash?” I whisper, voice quivering on the cusp of a mental breakdown.

He stares at me, chewing his cheek, and his answer is a single word: “Enver.”

“What?” I scowl, anger rising again.

“My name,” he reminds me quietly. “You used to call me Enver, sweetheart.”

“Don’t call me pet names, Gortash,” I force through my teeth. “Whatever you dreamed was between us, it’s most definitely not there anymore.”

“Alright.” He presses his lips together in annoyance, but steps closer, eyes radiating something close to malice. I gulp, my hand curling into a fist, pressing to the hilt at my hip. “I won’t call you kitten, or love, or sweetheart. Those were all just words I used to tease you with.” Drawling, stretching his words, he hovers above me. “But I have earned the right to call you Talas.”

That makes me pause and I just blink at him blankly for a second. “Who’s that?”

Genuine shock colors his face. He takes a step back, mouth agape. “That you don’t remember my name, I would understand. But how do you not remember your own?”

“Because someone caved my head in, trying to kill me!” I scream, suddenly overflowing with something I haven’t felt for a while: self-pity. I feel tears prickle in my eyes and that just makes me want to yell louder. “Because someone took everything from me. And where the fuck were you when I was bleeding out into the dirt?! If you were such a shitty partner, why in the Hells did I even bother with you?”

Gortash’s features softened, pain and regret gleaming in his eyes.

“I wasn’t your keeper, Talas,” he countered. “You were always an independent force, often off on business I had no say in. But when you didn’t come back one day, I searched for you.” His eyebrows join in a pleading line. “I searched for you with every bit of resources I could spare. Then Orin muscled in on our plot and made me stop under the threat of unraveling the whole thing. I accepted you as a loss… but I mourned for a long time.”

His words eat their way into my chest like acid. I don’t want to believe a single one, but something in me knows it’s the truth.

“Don’t tell me you loved me,” I hiss. “You don’t strike me as a man who allows himself such weaknesses.”

He smirks and I bristle. I knew it. Liar!

“Love is for children,” he chuckles. “We had something much more precious. We made a great team. Your monstrosity and mine were in perfect harmony. No one understood me like you did. No one encouraged my every exploit like you did. You were such a horrible influence on me,” he purrs, his eyes half closed. “Delicious. Deplorable. Delightful.”

I gulp and shiver under the intensity of his gaze. It feels like he’s undressing me with his eyes and I can’t decide how I feel about it. I want to be disgusted, but that knot low in my belly has a different agenda. Without remembering a single minute of knowing him, my body knows it used to crave this man’s attention.

He extends his unclawed hand to me and grazes my skin. It burns and it tickles and it sends powerful signals all over my nervous system. But this is not what I want. It can’t be.

Quick as lightning, I pull my dagger out and press it to his neck in warning.

“Don’t. Touch. Me,” I filter through my teeth.

He catches my wrist quicker than I would’ve given him credit for. Instead of pulling it away, though, he presses the blade closer, almost cutting into himself. I gasp in shock, struggling against his strength. His dead eyes flicker to life, ablaze with desire.

“There she is,” he whispers almost breathlessly, biting his lip. “You seem so different… but I knew my pet monster was somewhere in there.”

“I’m nothing of yours,” I force through my dried throat, my voice failing me.

Suddenly, he moves my hand away from his neck, only to press my white-knuckled fist to his lips in a kiss. My whole body responds, buzzing in approval. “You don’t mean that,” he teases, his hot breath tickling the spot he kissed.

“Don’t do that,” I breathe out, a lump forming in my throat, making my voice sound funny.

He pulls my wrist to his mouth and licks it with a quick flick before his teeth start to nibble on the sensitive skin, sending shockwaves of ecstasy down my arm.

“Stop it,” I beg, the command I meant to utter melting into a pathetic mewl.

I twist and try to get away for a second or two, but he keeps moving lower and lower, licking, sucking, biting, and every last defense I had crumbles into ashes. It doesn’t matter that I’m someone else now. It doesn’t matter that I would never consciously and honestly team up with him again. It doesn’t matter what I think of him or what I believe he deserves.

I never had a chance. My body knows him, my body craves him. He’s like a drug addiction I never quite shook, and at the slightest sweet taste I relapse right back into him.

03 - A master. A slave.

He pulls me in, mouth still hungrily devouring my arm inch by inch, while his free hand frantically unties my cloak, revealing my simple shirt and long skirt underneath.

“You used to wear fancier things.” He side-eyes my clothing, not letting it distract him from my skin too much. “And would get mad when I tore them to shreds. This is perfect.”

My sluggish thoughts haven’t even begun to analyze the meaning in his words when he presses me flush to his chest, moving from nibbling on my shoulder to assaulting my mouth. I gasp for the breath he keeps stealing with every touch, but let him surround me and trap me with his body. I feel his desperate need mirroring my own. His taste is surprisingly sweet, with just a hint of hot spice.

“No,” I manage to mumble through our locked lips, grasping at the last straws of control. My hand is finally free—I try stabbing him in the crook of his neck. He yelps and groans, but my muscles are so useless I’ve barely scratched him. A thin streak of blood trickles out of the cut, marring the delicate fabric of his robe.

“You thought that would stop me?” he purrs, pulling the robe off his body. “Your knives left more than one scar on me. It was our thing.”

I stare at his muscly, hairy chest, mute. I see scars on his torso, criss-crossing his skin like a crude carving. That couldn’t be my doing… But the metallic scent of his blood sends a new sort of excitement through me. I know it’s my Urge, I know it’s not really me, but my will is weakened. My hand raises and cuts him again—just a little, but enough to satisfy the craving.

“Your body remembers,” he whispers into my ear, standing my hair on their ends.

His gloved hand caresses my arm and shoulder and closes around my throat. I gasp in panic, or I think I do, but heat pools in my lower regions in response. He presses a touch harder; his gold ornaments are digging into my skin, claws pinching my nape and my head is starting to swim with lack of oxygen. My fingers wrap around his wrist, but for some reason I don’t pull him away.

“Every time you hurt me, I will hurt you back,” he promises in a sweet, sin-filled voice. “Call it our love language.”

He lets go of my neck, hands roughly gripping my waist instead. He twirls us around and sits me on top of his desk. I fumble to find balance and end up sending his documents, ink and quills all over the floor. Instead of complaining, he eagerly swipes the rest of the items off the surface and pushes me down on my back.

The panic it triggers gives me back a chunk of my reason. Instead of letting him, I fight back, clawing at his bare chest with my nails and my dagger, leaving bloody gashes over his skin.

His head lulls back for a moment, which makes me realize I’m not helping at all. He’s enjoying the pain I give him. He takes fistfuls of my shirt and bends down to bite my shoulder—hard. I yelp, reaching into his hair to pull him away, but he’s already ripping clothes off of my torso, baring my skin, spilling my breasts.

“You are even more magnificent than I remember,” he rasps, grazing my curves with his gaze alone. The reverent look on his face sets my loins on fire.

I’m beginning to understand how I could’ve let him so close to me. A young, confused little thing, raised in worship of the Lord of Murder, would have no idea what love looks like. I’m still learning and stumbling, despite Halsin’s best efforts. A man who could make her feel so beautiful, so wanted among all the blood and death… such a man would have had the key to her rotten little heart.

I’m not that girl anymore. But I know that feeling. Its draw is familiar and powerful. My hands let go of his hair and fall next to my head, letting him run his rough palms across my chest and knead the pliant shape of my breasts.

His teeth close around one of my nipples and press just hard enough to shoot a barbed string of ecstasy directly to my sex. I muffle the moan with my hands. I can’t just let him win like that. I’m not doing this because I’m easy. I’m doing it so I don’t go insane.

“I missed this,” Gortash drawls, his lips and tongue making slow circles on my chest. “I missed you.” He bites into my flesh, gently, teasingly, while his hand slowly moves towards my sex. “In all your glory, Talas.”

“Stop calling me that,” I protest weakly, but he just chuckles and continues lower, and lower.

“You may not remember me,” he breathes on my folds, shamefully wet and wanton, “but I remember everything about you.”

And he dives between my thighs like a man who’s been starving and now can finally eat.

I gasp loudly, my hands instinctively grasping for something to hold onto—his hair. My legs twitch and wrap around him. I’m half worried I’m killing him, but he gives no indication of discomfort. His mouth is making the most intimidatingly dirty noises I’ve ever heard and I’m melting on his face.

All it takes him is a few minutes, stretched impossibly long in my damaged mind. I swallow the urge to scream and just grunt, not wanting to give him the satisfaction. He looks up from my lap, slick and gasping for breath, and smirks smugly. He knows I enjoyed it, no use hiding it.

He picks his robe off the floor and wipes his face, still watching me. My brain is too hazy to worry about the way I’m splayed on his desk, eaten out, undone. He props himself above me and studies my face.

“This is your most beautiful look,” he sighs, taking in the flush of my cheeks, the sweat glistening on my brow and the mess I made of my hair. “Precious little Bhaal-babe.”

I’m still coming down from the high when I feel him slip inside me. I distantly realize I should’ve gathered enough wit to stop him, but it’s too late. I squeeze around him in welcome and let out a long and thoroughly embarrassing moan. He matches me, closing his eyes.

“You still fit me like a glove.”

He’s so right. I live for the delicious stretch of Halsin’s gentle, loving thrusts—it’s the only sex I remember having, but I would kill for more—but this… Gortash feels like he was tailored specifically for me. My body knows his shape, just as it knows his touch. It’s like coming home after a long time and finding your old room exactly as you left it.

“Oh gods, I really do,” I groan as he lazily moves inside, savoring each stroke.

I wrap my legs around his waist and just enjoy the sensation, closing my eyes to ignore his intimate gaze for the sake of my sanity. If he’s trying to make me fall for him again, he’s as out of his mind as I am.

Clearly getting bored of the slow pace, he pulls me up and plops me back down on my belly. I’m too weak and needy to issue a protest, I just whine at the unexpected and unwelcome absence of him. He silences my discontent with a firm thrust that makes me gasp and clutch the edges of the desk so hard my knuckles turn white again.

“I know you love this one,” he purrs and presses my legs together with his own. “Sometimes you like to be in control. Other times you like to be controlled. You were the most fun I’ve ever had with anyone.”

I let out a growl at him mentioning his other partners while balls-deep in me. Perhaps he didn’t really want me back. Maybe he just missed the “fun”.

“You’re also the only one who made me consider settling down, Talas,” he continues as if he understood very well why his words upset me. “I wanted to breed you and watch you teach the little runt how to gut people.”

“Don’t even fucking think about it,” I sputter, miraculously finding enough ire to at least issue a warning, while still being happily pinned under him.

He chuckles. “Your response is still the same. Last time it was Daddy dearest… but you changed your mind about doing his bidding. Is Halsin aware you’re not going to give him a litter of cubs one day as he might hope?”

I don’t know how he even learned all these things about me, but I don’t care much. I grab the dagger left forgotten on the desk next to me and jam the blade into his thigh. Not deep enough to cripple, but definitely causing a lot of pain.

Gortash lets out a strangled scream, which mixes with a moan of pleasure not two seconds later. Fuck. I didn’t mean for him to like it.

What he does next pushes all irrelevant thoughts out of my head: he grabs my hair and yanks hard, pulling my head back, making my little cry sound ever more pathetic. His free hand digs fingers into my hip, holding me steady as he begins pounding into me with force.

I just open my mouth mutely, gasping for air, my eyes filling with tears. My brain turns into mush under the intensity of sensations he’s sending through my tortured body. I can’t see, I can’t speak, I can’t think. I hear a high-pitched whine through the mist around me… and I realize it’s mine. I’m screaming, lost in the sweet place between pain and complete ecstasy.

I spasm around his length so hard I can hear him gasp as well. My whole body shakes and curls into itself, a shaking, sweaty, moaning mess writhing on the cool polished wood of the desk. I can feel him swell within me, hot and ready, and I know he’s coming too—still inside me.

But I don’t care. I want it. Whatever he might hope to gain from it, I know I’m safe.

Instead of going slack like a good boy, he pulls out and flips me on my back again. He holds my legs spread, admiring what he did to me. I feel his seed leak out of me and drip to the floor. He smiles contently, dragging a fingertip across my clit, drawing out every last twitch my muscles are willing to give.

“This could be us every day,” he says softly. “Think about it.”

I don’t have an answer he would like, but he doesn’t wait for one. He picks me up in the most unexpectedly gentle way and carries me to the other side of the room. I thought he was putting me on the bed, either to sleep, cuddle or continue blissfully torturing me, but my breath hitches in surprise when he suddenly dips me into warm water. I slip into a roomy bathtub, blinking in confusion.

My brain needs a minute to restart, so I just watch him get inside with me, sitting me in his lap, cradling me. I don’t have the strength to protest. I just watch the little pinkish streaks, as water begins to wash out his wounds.

04 - This is why we can’t have nice things.

“How did you have this ready? Do you have invisible servants or something?”

Gortash chuckles and I vibrate along on his chest, making frantic little waves on the surface.

“The miracle of technology, Talas. My desk has a few convenient buttons and this tub fills and warms up automatically. I pressed one before we began.”

Well, that is convenient. I’m not sure if I want to be in this bath with him now, but it sure feels good on my exhausted muscles and aching sex. His arms around me feel nice, too, as much as I hate admitting it. I can hate a person and still enjoy their closeness, right? Right?

His hands caress me under the water and I let them.

“Good to know you bathe with your gauntlets on,” I quip, noticing the distinctive feel of metal against my skin.

He pulls his right hand up and turns it from one side to the other, letting the gold reflect the glimmer of flames in the nearby fireplace. The netherstone pulses with its own light, alive and tempting as the power it holds.

“While I’m more than happy to entertain you, I’m not letting my most prized possession just lie around for you to steal,” he smirks and I turn my head to have a better look at him, honestly impressed. “You changed. Your goals inevitably changed, too. I don’t trust you anymore, Talas.” He runs a soft finger along my jaw, dropping to the line of my neck and to my clavicle. I shiver, even submerged in warmth, too tired to correct the name this time. “If you want it for yourself, you’re going to have to kill me.”

I give him an evaluating once-over; then my eyes move to the dagger I left on the desk. His gaze follows mine and his smirk stretches more.

“Just keep in mind that those Steel Watchers outside will only take about ten seconds to join us. And even you, my dear, don’t have the skill to defeat them all naked and unarmed to get out of here alive.” His fingers trace the shape of my lips. “I would hate it if something happened to you before I had the chance to win you over.”

“You’re so full of shit, Gortash,” I sigh, laying my head in the crook of his neck. I feel too lazy to murder anyone right now, anyway. “You sent me to hunt Orin down and told me to not come back without her stone. You expect me to believe you actually give a fuck about me and care what I think about you? I’m here against your explicit orders, your lordship.”

“You came to see me surrounded by your new friends,” he grumbles and I finally hear discontent in his voice. “In the company of your new lover. What did you think I would do, fall on my knees in front of all my esteemed guests and your openly hostile troupe and beg you to come back to me?”

“Hmm, so your excuse is your pride?” I sneer. “I don’t believe a word that comes out of your mouth, no matter how trustworthy you somehow manage to sound. I only agreed to your deal because you didn’t give me any better choice. Karlach was furious. She wants you dead oh so very much. She gets really graphic, describing how she wants to kill you. You’re lucky I didn’t bring her along.”

Gortash groans and pinches the root of his nose.

“The company you keep nowadays,” he chides. “No wonder you changed so much. Every one of those bloody soft-hearted idiots putting their own opinions in your emptied mind.”

“When that’s what you wanted to do.” I nod in mock commiseration.

“I want us to be partners,” he scowls, tone wounded. “Equals. Sharing the power over the whole world. The Lord is only a part for me to play in public, while you reign over your own murderous kingdom from the shadows, unobstructed by law, unhindered by so-called heroes trying to stop you. We can have everything we’ve ever wanted. Together.”

I can’t believe how tempting he sounds right now. I close my eyes, letting my Urge surface just enough to enjoy the pure simplicity of the world he describes. I could let go. I could stop fighting for every sliver of free will. I could bathe in blood and have people worship my god through me. The Urge would be sated—I could feel the sweet rush of ecstasy from killing without worrying I might hurt someone close to me.

I would be lying if I said this vision of the future never crossed my mind. It’s an everyday struggle, trying to stay good, trying to do only good. A struggle I’m inevitably going to lose if my Urge grows in intensity for much longer. Killing Halsin. Or Lae’zel. Or Gale. The death of anyone in my camp—by my hand—would break me.

I care too much. Sometimes I imagine what it would feel like if I didn’t care at all.

“You would never tolerate any of my friends by my side, Gortash,” I say flatly. “If you really do want me, you want me all to yourself. Isolated, depending only on you. Malleable. So that if—gods forbid—I disagree with you, you could push all the right buttons and get me to change my mind, with no one to challenge your influence over me.”

I don’t know how, but I know it’s true. It’s what all people drunk on power do. The more powerless they feel without it, the more they enjoy any sliver of it they get and abuse the shit out of it. It’s why Gortash wants control over others in the first place. Inside, there’s a small, scared, unloved little boy, whose parents sold him to a devil.

I blink, my heartbeat spiking, as I realize I’ve just recalled a bit of my past—our past. Something I couldn’t have learned since the nautiloid. Was it Gortash himself, who confided in me, or did I discover this piece of history by myself? It feels like something he would keep very close and tell no one, so it wouldn’t damage the lofty image he’s trying to maintain.

“You’re just being paranoid, kitten,” he brushes me off, but his expression is no longer sporting his typical airy easiness. “When we were together, I was your confidant and your strength against the increasing demands of your Father. But you weren’t some impressionable child. You were determined and unyielding. Sharp as your blades.”

Sharp blades. Bhaal. His demands.

A sinking dread begins to fill my guts and I lift off Gortash’s chest to put some distance between us. My brain is still fuzzy, but bits of memories are beginning to float to the surface of my consciousness.

“Bhaal’s grand design,” I say in a shaking voice, “is for everyone to die for him. I was supposed to kill you, and then myself, as the last mortal alive. Did you know?”

Gortash’s eyes round in horror.

“Of course not! What kind of crazy design is that? How would he get any more murders with no one left to die?”

He’s right, but that doesn’t mean I wasn’t going to try and carry it out, anyway. Just like mad Orin is probably doing now. What a good little Daddy’s lapdog.

“But that wasn’t what you planned for yourself, was it?” I press, my voice steadying with my increasing certainty. “And so I was suddenly in the way. Just what would it take for you to turn on your closest ally? Is her planning your murder enough?”

“What are you trying to say, Talas?” he hisses, but I can see fear in his eyes.

“It was you, wasn’t it?” I growl, sliding away from him, so I can get out of the bathtub without him catching me. “You tried to kill me! Just so I wouldn’t kill you first.”

I jump to my feet, nearly slipping on the smooth wet surface, but holding my balance well enough to scramble out of the water. He tries grabbing my hand, then my leg, but I slip out of his grasp easily. I throw myself towards the desk and retake possession of my only weapon. By the time he’s out of the tub, I’m already pointing it at his throat.

“Listen to me, Talas—” he puts his hands up in a calming gesture, but I’ve had enough of his smooth words for one night.

“You picked up a fucking rock and you beat me and kicked me and tossed me against stone walls!”

I scream and I’m sure my prevalent feelings are pure rage, but out of nowhere I get ambushed by tears and sobs. My memories are still a mess, but the flashes of my body being beaten to a pulp are vivid and terrifying.

“Talas, please—”

“I bled and begged, and you teased and laughed, as if it was the funniest shit you ever got to do! And now that I’m somehow back, you’re trying to get me to believe your sweet lies, just so I won’t remember what you did to me. But I remember! I REMEMBER!”

I know I sound completely unhinged, but my chest is so filled with a mix of the worst feelings I’ve ever experienced, that it threatens to burst.

“IT WASN’T ME!” Gortash’s volume finally matches mine, making me wince and pause just enough for him to get a word in. “I would never hurt you like that! If I really had to kill you, dearest, I would’ve done it quick and clean. Because I love you, you stupid thing!”

His confession feels like a slap to the face. I didn’t see that coming. My first instinct is to pronounce it as another lie, especially in retrospect to the first time he mentioned love tonight, but my mind finally calms enough to actually think.

A man like him wouldn’t say anything like that if he didn’t mean it. It sounded… pathetic. Baring his soul similarly to revealing his most embarrassing childhood memory, knowing his feelings are unrequited. His pride would never allow him to grovel so much. Not anymore, not when he’s got a taste of actually being respected.

“Please, believe me,” he pleads, breath ragged, eyes wide. ��I have no reason to hate you. This sounds like someone who had every reason. Who enjoyed your agony and loved seeing you on your knees. I. Would. Never.”

“But you…” I exhale, confused. I’ve almost had it. I’ve almost found the one responsible for my unfortunate fate. “Then who the fuck did this to me?” I whisper and stifle another sob.

“Please put down the dagger, Talas.” Gortash points at the sharp tip still hovering between his clavicles. I reluctantly lower it. I’m honestly pleasantly surprised he let me threaten him for so long without trying to disarm me. It makes me trust him just a smidge more. “And maybe we can figure it out together.”

“Stop calling me that!” I lash out annoyedly. “My name is Nara now. Deal with it.”

“When you stop calling me Gortash,” he smirks in response, his easy charm back.

I groan, rolling my eyes. “Fine. Enver,” I say begrudgingly, but the name feels much better on my tongue than I expected. I must’ve been used to calling him that, just as he said.

I turn to the desk, intent on putting the weapon back, but I freeze mid-step. A mix of stimuli, a flicker of light, a rustle of the fur rug on the floor, perhaps even a smell… and the memory of my attempted murder clears a bit more.

I see a shiny red surface with an opalescent finish. Hear a rustle of a long braid and the pitter-patter of bare feet on stone. I hear laughter again, but this time I’m not just imagining Gortash’s… Enver’s, I clearly recall a woman’s voice having the time of her life.

“Orin.”

The name falls flatly from my lips. I feel cold dread seep into my soul at the image of her. I never quite understood why she had this effect on me—until now. Even though my memory was coming up empty, she was triggering a post-traumatic response all the same, just like when my body yielded to Enver.

“Hm?”

I turn back, dagger still in my hand. I don’t plan on letting go of it any time soon. Enver watches me warily, with a hint of curiosity in his face.

“It was Orin.”

He frowns at first. Opens his mouth, presumably to defend her. Then closes it again, his features smoothing out.

“It makes sense. She took your place, both in the cult and in the Absolute plot. She wanted you gone. And she really seems to hate you, though I wouldn’t expect her to need any solid reason to kick someone to death. She would happily do it just for fun.”

I close my eyes for a second, but I only need a few gulps of breath to make up my mind. I pick up my torn and discarded clothes off the floor and put them back on, securing them in place as well as possible.

“Where are you going?”

Enver reaches for me and grabs my arm. I toss him a warning glare, but don’t move. He’s still naked and wet from head to toe, he poses virtually no danger to me.

“To hunt,” I answer plainly. “I know a mad bitch that needs killing.”

“Don’t be rash,” he shakes his head, some of the slicked back damp hair falling into his eyes. “You can’t know where she is. Or who she is. She could slaughter your whole camp while you sleep and you’d be left alone to face her. Remember, she is the Slayer now.”

“Well, since we’re counting suspects, she could very well be you,” I give him a wry smile. “But I doubt she would keep going this long, having me all to herself like that, so you’re probably safe.” He doesn’t appreciate my joke, scowling like a jack-o-lantern, concern crumpling his features. “I need to go back to my friends and figure out a way to find her before she does any real damage, Enver. I need to go now.”

He slowly lets go of my arm, letting me finish putting the cloak on.

“No need to sneak through the throne room, by the way,” he notes, watching me hide underneath the wide hood. “The Watch was instructed to let you in. If someone could really just sneak past them like that, I could easily expect Orin in your place. Thankfully, the Watch can spot the difference, with you having a tadpole.”

My eyebrows rise. So that’s why he took that bath? Did he think my unsettled hormones would lead me back to Wyrmrock to see him? I clearly never liked grimy men—and he knows it.

“You were waiting for me?”

“I was hopeful,” he confessed, dropping his gaze for a moment. “I couldn’t risk just inviting you. But at least I made sure you would get in without complications. You always did like to have all the facts.”

I chuckle and shake my head. I still believe at least half of his words are lies and most of the other half are cleverly picked and arranged bits of truth. But now I’m also pretty sure there’s something genuine in him, too. Hidden very deep, surrounded by enemies—but it’s there.

“Be safe, Talas,” he says quietly. “Nara,” he corrects himself, smiling softly. “You have your work cut out for you.”

“I’ll do my best to not disappoint,” I shrug, sheathing my dagger, stepping away.

“And will you at least consider my proposition?” He calls after me when I’m almost out the door. His voice sounds tentative. “That’s all I ask.”

I let my gaze slide down the length of his naked body, weighing my options. Well, consideration really costs me nothing, does it? It’s very unlikely that I will agree to it. I have much better prospects in my scope now—much healthier ones. But the least I can do for him is give it a thought.

“Sure,” I grace him with a little smile. “I will consider it.”

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#durgetash #gortash x durge #enver gortash #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #baldurs gate 3 #fanfiction #fanfic #smut #Durge datamining some memories #emotional trauma #good durge #resisting durge #durge x halsin #halsin bg3 #bg3 halsin

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tafeekafee · 1 month

Text

⏳️🦊 My Aurora

Sickie: Wooyoung

Caretaker: Hongjoong (and Yeosang)

„Hwa, turn off that god-awful alarm before I shoot myself”, Hongjoong growled into his pillow. As far as he was concerned it was too early and he needed sleep. Badly. It might be his own fault for sleeping like eight hours in total over the span of 48 hours but he was allowed to hate early morning schedules.

“Good morning to you too, Joongie”, Seonghwa answered with a slight laugh. He sounded way to awake and chipper for this time of day. Bastard. At least he turned off the alarm. Small mercies.

But instead of letting Hongjoong sleep, he got up from his bed to peer over the side of Hongjoong’s upper bunk. “Uh-oh, no sleeping”, Seonghwa said and pulled off the blanket to expose Hongjoong to the cold air.

“Meanie”, Hongjoong pouted and yawned.

Seonghwa laughed again. “I distinctly remember you telling me to make you get up by any means necessary last night, no matter how much I beg”, he teased.

“My past self was an idiot. I’m older now, I know better now. And I don’t want to get up”, Hongjoong tried and moved to turn over, away from his annoying hyung. What right did he have to torture him? He was Seonghwa’s captain after all.

Seonghwa’s voice sounded way to gleeful. “I always wanted to do this.”

Before Hongjoong could wonder what he was about to do, Seonghwa had sprayed him with the water bottle he used to mist his succulent plants.

Hongjoong screeched and jolted upright, now wide awake.

“I hate you”, he muttered, wiping his face.

Seonghwa just grinned wider, looking unfairly put together in stark contrast to Hongjoong who probably looked like a mess with an impressive bedhead. He didn’t need a mirror, he knew he looked awful whenever he woke up.

“No, you don’t”, Seonghwa said, “now, do get up. I’ll make breakfast. You get ready, we have a long day ahead.”

“You’re telling me”, the captain grumbled but climbed down the ladder of his bunk.

⌛

Ten minutes later Hongjong was dressed and had sorted out the disaster that was his face and hair. When he stumbled into the kitchen he found Seonghwa at the stove making something, while Mingi and San were sitting next to each other at the table, leaning on each other and half-asleep. Yunho was standing next to the coffee maker, eyes closed.

“Morning”, Hongjoong greeted and received mumbled answers from his members that he wasn’t even sure were words. He could sympathise. Five o’clock was not a time to get up – especially if you only went to sleep at two o’clock.

As he sat down next to San, Yeosang and Jongho made their way into the kitchen, both of them cuddled close together and still in pyjamas. “Morning”, Jongho greeted and flopped onto San. Yeosang sat down next to Hongjoong and turned his attention to the leader.

“Wooyoung-yah is still asleep”, Yeosang explained their roommates absence, “I woke up tonight because he was moving around, said he had trouble sleeping. I let him sleep in my bed but when he didn’t wake up to our alarm I thought he might need more rest and he could maybe eat in the car?” He sounded unsure if he had done the right thing and worried about his best friend.

“That’s alright, Sang-ah, letting him sleep was a good idea”, Hongjoong praised, wanting to erase the uncertainness off his dongsaeng’s face. He knew how Yeosang often worried if he overstepped boundaries when he decided something – the reason why he mostly didn’t decide anything. “I’ll wake him after breakfast. Sleep is important.”

“I will make him something to go”, Seonghwa added.

⌛

Once breakfast was done Hongjoong and Yeosang went to the younger two’s room, so that Yeosang could grab his clothes and Hongjoong could work on waking up their second maknae.

Wooyoung was curled up on Yeosang’s bed, fast asleep. He was cuddling the pillow to his chest and like that Hongjoong was reminded just how young he was. While he often acted like a nuisance on cocaine on camera Wooyoung was a responsible and caring person. He had seen the awfulness of their industry. Hongjoong would be a liar if he said he wasn’t soft for these moments when his kids, as ATINY would say, seemed like actual kids.

Once Yeosang had left the room, Hongjoong knelt down next to Wooyoung, holding onto the ladder that went up to Wooyoung’s bunk for stability. He placed a hand on Wooyoung’s shoulder and shook it gently.

“Wake up, baby”, Hongjoong whispered, “you need to get ready for today’s photoshoot.”

Wooyoung groaned unhappily but blinked his eyes open. He stared up at Hongjoong for a moment before swiftly turning to the side. Just for a second Hongjoong was confused, then out of a sudden Wooyoung coughed and retched loudly before throwing up onto the floor beside Yeosang’s bed. Hongjoong jumped back in shock, hoping to protect his trousers and socks from the mess and, quite frankly in disgust. He had not anticipated Wooyoung puking first thing in the morning. After a second Hongjoong tried to step a bit closer so that he could rub Wooyoung’s back as the man cried and gagged.

“Oh, baby”, Hongjoong whispered, heart breaking for his sick dongsaeng who was trying so hard to catch his breath. “It’s okay, hyung has got you.”

Finally Wooyoung’s stomach seemed to be done and the younger rolled onto his back again. Tears were gathering in his eyes and trailed down his cheeks. Hongjoong could sympathize: He imagined waking up only to throw up seconds later without any warning was very unpleasant. Ignoring the soupy mess on the ground that resembled last nights dinner a bit too much, Hongjoong sat down on the bed next to Wooyoung’s hip and started stroking his sweaty hair away from his face.

“I’m so sorry, hyung”, Wooyoung whispered, eyes glazed over and sounding exhausted. There was embarrassment colouring his cheeks red.

“It’s okay, Wooyoung-yah, you couldn’t help it”, Hongjoong mumbled back, “is it okay if I call for help? You need to get cleaned up and your tiny old hyung won’t be much of a help, you’ve grown up so much.”

“Can it be Yeosangie-hyung, please?”, Wooyoung asked in a tiny voice. That had been Hongjoong’s plan all along anyways. Jongho, Yunho and Mingi needed to get ready, as did San, and he needed Seonghwa to keep an eye on the others. Besides, if this was a stomach bug then Yeosang had already been exposed – no need to risk getting everybody sick at the same time.

“Sang-ah, come here, please”, Hongjoong called and a moment later the door opened.

“Hyung … what? Oh”, Yeosang said dumbfounded. He quickly gathered himself and made his way over to his dongsaeng who was making grabby hands in his direction. It was cute even in this situation. Yeosang quickly obliged and crouched at the head of his bed, where he could be closest to Wooyoung without getting too close to the mess.

“Why didn’t you say last night that you felt sick?”, Yeosang asked gently.

“I didn’t feel sick then”, Wooyoung pouted.

“Threw up the moment he woke up”, Hongjoong provided, smiling to himself as he watched the interaction between his members. He really loved how they cared for each other like a real family. “Can you get him to the living room so we can get this cleaned up?”

“I’m really sorry”, Wooyoung whispered as he glanced down, paling instantly.

“It’s really okay, baby, you can’t help it”, Hongjoong soothed, “let me just get you a trash can and then you’re all set.”

He got up to get a bucket but then he spotted the room’s trash can. Good enough. It was filled halfway with empty energy drinks that Hongjoong unceremoniously dumped onto the floor.

“Hyung”, Yeosang complained as empty cans clattered onto the floor.

“I’ve been meaning to talk to you and Jongho-ah about your excessive consumption of energy drinks anyways. This is just the start”, Hongjoong explained and ignored the following whine in favour of raising his eyebrow at Wooyoung. The second maknae giggled. That was much better than the tears.

“You’re conspiring against us”, Yeosang moaned, understanding Hongjoong’s intention of distracting Wooyoung from his misery.

“File your complains here.” Hongjoong shrugged and pointed at the trash can.

“Hyung, you’re ridiculous”, Wooyoung teased weakly.

“Hyung has every right to complain. Hyung shares a room with Seonghwa. Hyung cleans under the bed three times a week, nothing more ridiculous than that”, Hongjoong said as he placed the bucket down next to Wooyoung.

“Don’t make me laugh, my stomach hurts”, Wooyoung complained, hugging the aching organ.

“Alright, let’s get back to it. Sang-ah, why don’t you get Wooyoung comfortable on the couch with his new best friend while I get medicine and a thermometer?”, Hongjoong said and Yeosang nodded eagerly.

“Up you get”, Hongjoong said and helped Yeosang sit Wooyoung up and then swing his legs over the side of the bed. The sick member’s breathing took on deeper patterns as he tried to stave off the nausea from being upright and Hongjoong was ready to reach over to the bucket if it was needed. Luckily Wooyoung was able to breathe through it.

“I’m dizzy”, he said and closed his eyes.

“Think you can walk or do you want hyung to get Yunho so he can help me carry you?”, Yeosang asked gently.

“Just give me a minute.”

Hongjoong and Yeosang exchanged worried glances. They had never seen Wooyoung this sick before – it was clear he couldn’t stay alone at the dorm, not that Hongjoong would have allowed that. They had an all day shooting of a video on their schedule – somebody who had lots of scenes with Wooyoung could stay back.

“I can go on”, Wooyoung said before Hongjoong was able to finish his thoughts.

“Okay, change of plans. We both help you to the living room”, Hongjoong said, not wanting to risk Wooyoung falling despite his deep trust in Yeosang. Some accidents couldn’t be avoided but he might help as a crutch anyway. Carefully Yeosang and Hongjoong helped him stand, the youngest’s legs shaky and barely able to hold his own weight. The captain reached down and handed Wooyoung the bucket which he cradled against his chest fearfully.

“We’ve got you, it’s okay”, Hongjoong soothed, “if you need to be sick again or feel even more dizzy or anything just tell us.”

Slowly they made their way around the puddle on the floor and out of the bedroom, with Yeosang and Hongjoong having wrapped one arm around Wooyoung’s waist each.

⌛

Yunho was sitting on the couch, fully dressed and sipping his coffee as they entered the living room and he looked up with confusion written plainly on his face.

“What’s going on?”, he asked confused, taking in the view. He clearly wasn’t awake enough yet to understand what was obvious.

“Wooyoung-ah is sick”, Hongjoong explained and quickly Yunho had abandoned his coffee on the TV table to open his arms for Wooyoung to cuddle in. The maknae plopped down onto the couch as soon as he was in reach but refused to lean into Yunho, still holding the bucket under his chin. He tugged at Yeosang’s hand to get the older to sit down with him and Yeosang, reliable friend he was, immediately complied and took his hand.

“You’re really not feeling good, huh?”, Yunho whispered and placed a warm hand on Wooyoung’s back. The younger man whimpered and swallowed harshly.

“I feel so sick”, Wooyoung groaned and burped wetly. Hongjoong winced and sighed. “If you need to be sick, Wooyoung-ah, let it…”

Before he could finish the sentence, Wooyoung lurched forward and buried his face in the bucket, loudly expelling his stomach contents. Yunho helplessly rubbed his back and Yeosang held back his hair from his forehead, steadying the bucket with the other hand.

Hongjoong could only watch, once again. He shuddered at the sound of liquid hitting the bucket and the loud coughing. It was a wonder nobody else had wandered into the living room yet to find out where the wretched sounds came from.

“Breathe”, Yeosang encouraged. Confident his dongsaengs had the situation under control, Hongjoong slipped away to gather the thermometer and some medication from the bathroom. On his way back, he nearly collided with Seonghwa who stared at him – or more exactly at the medication in his hand – with confusion, then worry.

“Hongjoong-ah, are you sick? What is going on?”, he asked frantically, mother henning as always.

“I’m fine, it’s…” Hongjoong was interrupted by the sounds of Wooyoung vomiting again and both of them winced. In the dorm there was no real privacy they had learned – as much as any of them tried to hide illnesses, they would be betrayed by the thin walls. And as the oldest hyungs they were very much aware how easily illnesses spread when everybody lived in each other’s pocket.

They both shuddered simultaneously at the memory of the stomach flu from last winter – it had started one day with Yunho and by the end of the next day only Hongjoong and Seonghwa were left standing (but also with buckets not too far away from them).

“Wooyoung?”, Seonghwa asked.

“Yeah.”

“What about the filming? We need to leave in like less than fifteen minutes”, Seonghwa said.

“I know.” Hongjoong sighed. “I want to know his temperature and then I will call a manager. One of us needs to stay back with him, there is no way he can stay alone. Either Yeosang, Yunho or I – we’ve already been exposed.”

“Who is sick”?, San asked from behind them, a frown on his face. He seemed to have been on his way to the bathroom whose door they were blocking.

“Somebody is sick?”, Mingi asked, popping his head out of his bedroom door.

“Wooyoung is … ah, no, Jongho-yah, don’t go in there”, Hongjoong warned, the younger man having also appeared behind San and reaching for his bedroom door.

“What’s wrong?”

“Wooyoung-ah threw up”, Hongjoong explained with a sigh. “Listen, guys, we need to get ready, okay? San-ah, I hate to ask this of you but could you clean the bedroom? You have the strongest stomach out of all of us present.”

“On it, captain”, San said with a salute, obviously trying to lighten the mood.

“Let’s go check on him. Mingi-yah, can Jongho borrow some of your clothes?”

“Sure.”

Seonghwa and Hongjoong entered the living room to find Wooyoung curled up on Yeosang’s lap, tears trailing down his cheeks. Yunho was sitting next to them, running a hand up and down the second maknae’s arm, the bucket in his reach for easy access.

“Wooyoung-yah, let me take your temperature, okay?”, Seonghwa said and knelt down in front of his dongsaeng. Wooyoung nodded and let his oldest hyung hold the thermometer up to his forehead. Frantic beeping quickly followed.

“Uh-oh, 38.6°C”, Seonghwa read with a frown, “that is really not good.”

“Do you think it’s a stomach bug?”, Yunho asked unhappily. “Did you feel sick too, last night?”

Wooyoung shrugged. “I wasn’t really hungry last night but we had a big lunch so I didn’t think much of it. I wasn’t really able to fall asleep tonight until Yeosang-hyung let me sleep with him. But I honestly thought it was a touch of insomnia.”

Yunho frowned. “We shared lunch yesterday and if you didn’t eat much dinner, I think we can rule out food poisoning.”

“Great”, Hongjoong groaned, “I’ll call the manager. Young-ah, you are in no condition for filming today.” He retreated to the kitchen for some privacy.

“Noona, we have a problem”, he said as the woman picked up, “Wooyoung-yah is sick. He’s thrown up a couple of times this morning and he’s running a temperature of 38.6°. He needs to stay home and somebody needs to stay with him.”

“Dammit”, the manager said, “yes, obviously he needs to stay home. We’ll have to do scenes without him today then. I think it’s best if … hm, Jongho-ah is probably not a good choice. Mingi-yah can stay with him then, they have a few scenes together.”

“Noona, I was actually hoping Yeosang-ah or I could stay back”, Hongjoong said honestly, “Mingi-yah has not been exposed yet and …”

“Yeosang-ah is not an option, he needs to film today. He won’t be able to attend tomorrow due to a schedule conflict. But I guess you can stay home. You have a few scenes with Wooyoung-yah too and your own shoots can be done when and wherever.”

“Thanks, noona.”

“Thank me with the others being punctual, Hongjoong-ah.”

⌛

Hongjoong found Yeosang and Wooyoung in mostly the same position with Yunho still sporting an unhappy frown. Seonghwa was nowhere to be seen, he was probably washing out the bucket.

“Hey, Wooyoung-yah”, Hongjoong said warmly and knelt down to look at the second maknae. Wooyoung blinked owlishly up at him. “Noona said you can stay home today, I’ll be staying with you, okay?”

“Sangie-hyung?”, Wooyoung mumbled, unintentionally pouting. Yeosang was frowning unhappily, rubbing Wooyoung’s arm. He looked reluctant to leave his best friend behind too.

“He needs to go in for filming, baby. He’ll be back as soon as possible, okay?”, Hongjoong explained.

“Oh, alright”, Wooyoung said sadly but let Yeosang get up, instead opting to lie down completely on the couch.

⌛

Fifteen minutes later and punctual as promised Hongjoong and Wooyoung were left alone. Before they had left Mingi had gotten them some supplies and Jongho had brought both of them their bed covers, so there was no need for them to get up at all. They could stay curled up under the covers all day if they wanted to.

Wooyoung had laid down in Hongjoong’s lap, latching onto any heat source he could get. His eyes were closed but Hongjoong knew he wasn’t asleep. There were unhappy lines on the younger’s forehead and the leader could imagine why.

“Baby?”, he asked, “stomach ache?”

Wooyoung nodded weakly. “I’m sorry for all this, hyung”, he said quietly.

“Hush, dongsaeng”, Hongjoong soothed, “you’re sick, it happens. I can’t get you a hot water bottle, your temperature is too high for that, but I can rub your tummy?”

The younger opened his eyes for a moment, blinking against the overhead light and closed them again. “Thank you, hyung.”

Hongjoong sneaked his hand under the blanket and he instantly felt just how upset the younger’s stomach was, gurgling and cramping against his hand.

“Is this okay?”, he asked gently.

Wooyoung just hummed, already mostly asleep.

⌛

Wooyoung felt terrible. Horrible. Disgusting. Weak. Awful. Any negative association he could think off. He hated throwing up and he really had looked forward to filming. Now he was sick and miserable.

He had napped most of the morning except for the few instances where he had gotten sick again. His stomach ached, the nausea was still terrible even when he wasn’t about to puke, his head ached and he felt so frustrated.

He could tell that Hongjoong mirrored the last emotion.

“You should try to eat a bit, baby”, Hongjoong coaxed, obviously at his wit’s end. “I let you slack off breakfast but you haven’t effectively eaten since yesterday lunch. We need to get some nutrients and fluids into you. Then you can even taken some medicine to help.”

Wooyoung knew that the fever was making him feel so awful and emotional but he could help that eating or drinking sounded like the hardest tasks in the entire universe. He was done with being done, done with feeling sick and he didn’t want to risk anything that could trigger another bout.

He only wanted his captain hyung.

Hongjoong had been incredibly patient with him, ignoring his dislike towards skinship to cuddle Wooyoung as much as the younger wanted. He was grateful for his hyung, really. The captain hadn’t even complained when Wooyoung had burst into tears the moment he had stopped touching Wooyoung. Rationally, Wooyoung knew that the bucket needed cleaning out and that for that Hongjoong had needed to leave. That knowledge hadn’t prevented him from crying anyhow, clinging to his hyung. He didn’t want to be alone in his misery, so sue him.

Wooyoung shook his head wildly, his oreo hair stuck to his forehead with sweat so it didn’t even fly around anymore when moved. “I can’t, hyung”, he whined.

“At least some tea? Please?”, Hongjoong asked, obviously desperate. Wooyoung felt sorry towards his hyung who had to deal with him but he didn’t want to be alone.

“I don’t want you to leave”, he whispered, tears gathering in his eyes again. The headache from dehydration had taken up residence ages ago but he was miserable anyway. Tea wouldn’t make it better. Hyung would.

“It’ll be for two minutes, baby”, Hongjoong begged, “you can drink some tea. You haven’t thrown up in nearly two hours now, maybe it will stay down. You need fluids. I hate to do this … but if you don’t drink anything in the next fifteen minutes I’m taking you to hospital for an IV.”

Wooyoung’s eyes filled with tears. He didn’t want to go to the hospital. He wanted to just be okay.

“I know, dongsaeng”, Hongjoong soothed. Wooyoung hadn’t even noticed he said that aloud. “Two minutes.”

Wooyoung let himself be lifted from Hongjoong’s lap and laid down against a pillow.

Within a blink of an eye Hongjoong had appeared with a cup of tea and one of their bamboo straws.

“Just a few sips. I put in some cold water, I tried it. It’s drinking temperature.” The leader smiled down at him and lowered the cup so that Wooyoung could drink. Propped up against the pillow he was able to drink and Hongjoong kept stroking back his hair.

“You are doing so well, baby”, Hongjoong praised when Wooyoung had taken a few sips. “Sleep.”

⌛

Wooyoung barely felt better by evening. His temperature that had gone down with medication in the afternoon had gone up in the evening again. Worse yet, he had slept so much over the day he wasn’t even particularly tired.

Hongjoong and Seonghwa had originally decided to isolate him and the captain but it seemed that shy Yeosang had bullied his way into the bedroom. How that had happened Wooyoung wasn’t sure but his best friend could be stubborn if he wanted to.

That was how he ended up snuggling Yeosang in his bed again, resting on the elder’s chest while he played with Wooyoung’s hair. Hongjoong had pulled out his laptop and was playing soft music over the speakers, working through his email.

Wooyoung still wasn’t feeling good and he would get sick again in the night but soothed by the sound of Hongjoong clicking on keys and Yeosang stroking his hair and telling them about his day he felt better than all day.

Author’s note: For the lovely anon who requested the Wooyoung sickfic with Hongjoong caretaker 💕

I hope you all enjoy!

#kpop sickfic #kpop #ateez sick #ateez sickfic #emeto #ateez #sick ateez #sick wooyoung #caretaker hongjoong #request #🧚🏽‍♀️#⏳️#🦊

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