#look its v important that it takes place after like yesterday. and then i was like well what be a reason that they would have a party

[courtillyy]

i do genuinely think im very funny for setting this fic seven months in the future. its lowkey implying like,, not saying this happened but u cant say it never will - and also theres so much time for shit to go sideways in that time lmfao

[sehodreams]

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.

[httpdwaekki]

bad day | s.c.

summary: you messed up at work, leading to an anxiety filled, draining day but luckily your beautiful boy is there to make it all better.

wc: 1.7k

warnings: not proofread, lots too many of pet names, nudity (nothing sexual), mentions of anxiety and dissociation, pure fluff. lmk if i missed any.

a/n: v self indulgent because i fucked up at work a few days ago and have been anxious and need some good ole binnie fluff in my life. i haven't written in a while so feedback is always appreciated. love u, drink ur water, take ur medicine and remember ur loved <3

*lowercase intended*

my library

(pictures not mine! credits to owner)

to say you were having a bad day would be an understatement. you were tired, you were grumpy, and didn’t feel good. but it all came crumbling down the moment you realized you had missed an important deadline for work. you misread the date for an important project, which meant you had to send in it yesterday and not today.

you were defeated. you wanted to go home and curl up into a soft blanket and shut the world out. but unfortunately you had to finish out an anxiety riddled work day, waiting for your boss to come in and berate you. luckily that never came but it didn’t stop the side comments from your coworkers, about how much of a headache you’ve caused. you finished your work day but the anxiety never left.

you’ve never driven home faster, just wanting to shower and cuddle with your boyfriend and forget about your day. as you opened the door to your apartment, you kicked off your shoes, threw down your work bag and leaned against the door, letting out a sigh of relief.

“jagiya?” you had to keep your tears at bay, just hearing his voice after the day you’d had, made you crumble. you make your way to the living room where you find your boyfriend in sweats and a t-shirt, hair in its natural, slightly disheveled state and glasses, slightly slipping off his nose. 

you couldn’t stop the pout from forming before dropping yourself next to him, shoving your upper body into him. “yah! jagi, what’s wrong?” he asks, confused by your sudden move and mood. you just shake your head, burying yourself further into him. he understands immediately, wrapping his arms around you, kissing your head.

“okay, jagi, okay, it’s okay.” he whispered, rubbing soothing circles on your back. you two sit like this for a while, him whispering sweet nothings, pressing kisses anywhere he could reach. once he felt you relax a bit,  he pressed a long kiss to your hair before pulling back a bit. “bunny?” he moves his hand to the nape of your neck. “can you look at me for a second please?”

you sniffle before wiping your eyes, moving so you were sitting in front of him on his lap, legs resting on either side of him. his hands drop to your waist, rubbing soothing circles on your hips with his thumbs. you start playing with the hem of his shirt, just collecting your thoughts.

“what’s going on, hm?” he taps your chin lightly, “ what’s got my jagi so upset?” you sigh, finally glancing up to meet his eyes. “i just had a really bad day.” you mumbled, fiddling with the hem of his shirt once more. “oh, bunny.” he coos, placing his hand on your cheek, wiping a stray tear because gently caressing the soft skin.

“do you wanna talk about it?” he asked softly. you shook your head, “i just want cuddles and maybe a nap.” he nodded, “okay sweet girl. come on then.” he slowly scoots to the edge, “ wrap your legs around me, sweet girl.” he whispered, tapping your thighs. you wrapped your legs around his torso, before wrapping your arms around his neck, shoving your face in his neck.

“good job baby, you ready?” he asks, placing his hands under your thighs. you nod against him, tighten your limbs wrapped around him. he effortlessly stands up, adjusting slightly before making way to your shared bedroom.

once in the room, he gently lays you on the bed. “i’m gonna get you something comfy to wear, okay baby?” you nod, reluctantly letting go of him. you grab a blanket, hugging it, waiting for his return.

minutes pass, you feel yourself dissociate before your beautiful boy appears in front of you with shorts and your (his) favorite hoodie. he places the articles on the bed before sitting in front of you, placing a gentle hand on your cheek. snapping you back to reality, looking at him, a small smile forming on his face. “hi my baby.” he whispers, thumb gently caressing your cheek. your eyes soften looking back at him, “hi.” you mumbled back.

“i’m gonna help you get changed, okay?” you nodded, gently grabbing the hand on your cheek, kissing the palm, a token of your gratitude. he smiles, rubbing your cheek, kissing your forehead, standing up.

“i’m gonna take off your shirt. okay?” you nod, putting your hands up. he grabs the hem of your shirt, bringing it up and over your head. “do you want me to take your bra off too, baby?” you nod, reaching behind to undo the clasp. he grabs the straps, pulling it from your body, giving each shoulder a peck.

“my beautiful girl.” he mumbled, kissing your cheek before grabbing the hoodie, slipping it over your head, letting you slip your arms through the sleeves. “do you want shorts or no?” he asked holding them for you to see. you pondered for a second before shaking your head no. he nodded, putting the shorts back on the bed, before lightly tapping your thigh, “stand up for me bunny.” you stand up, pulling the sleeves over your hands.

changbin makes quick work of unbuttoning and unzipping your itchy jeans, leaning down to pull them down gently. you place your sleeve covered hands on his shoulders to stable yourself as you step out of the uncomfortable material. he lays the jeans to the side for him to deal with later.

he places a soft kiss on each thigh on his way back up. he reaches behind you, moving the soft blankets, to give you space to slip under them. “come on, jagiya.” he says softly, watching you make home under the covers. he pulls the covers up to your chin, tucking you in before placing a callused hand on your cheek, stroking it a few times before placing a loving kiss on your forehead.

you let out a sigh of relief, feeling the anxiety leaving your body little by little. he pulls away, grabbing the shorts and your work clothes from the day, making his way to your closet, throwing the clothes in the laundry baskets and placing the shorts back in their place.

he walks back over to his side of the bed, repeating the same process with the blankets before pulling you into his chest. you relax into his chest as he wraps his arms around you, placing a kiss on the top of your head. you place a soft kiss over his heart, as a silent thank you for taking care of you.

“i don’t know what happened,” he starts softly, rubbing soothing circles on your back. “but whatever it was, i hope you know how proud i am of you and love you no matter what. you put your all into what you do and i know you and i know you’re beating yourself about it but please don’t” he pauses.

“ i know it’s easier said than done but fuck baby, i hate seeing you tear yourself down. you work so hard, and you never give yourself a break and it breaks my heart.” you feel the familiar lump begin to form once more. you shake your head before covering your face with your hands, before shoving it back into his chest.

“i just feel so stupid and defeated.” you cried. you feel him tightened his arms around you, one arm around you back, the other cradling the back of your neck. “baby you’re not stupid, please never say that again.” he places a kiss on your hair. “you’re the smartest, most intelligent person i’ve ever met.”

you shook your head, pulling away slightly, before taking a breath. “what’s going on, what happened today?” he asked softly, wiping your tears. “i fucked up.” you whispered. “i thought i had another day for my project but it was due yesterday.” you explained, playing with strings of your hoodie. “my boss is upset, everyone’s mad at me, they keep making side comments about how i’ve caused a headache and it’s all too much.” you roll onto your back, looking up at the ceiling, trying to stop your tears.

“baby.” you don’t move, scared of what he’s gonna say next. “baby, look at me.” you turn head to face him, tears glistening on your eyelashes. “ you are not stupid. you are human and you made an honest mistake, okay?.” he paused, waiting for you to respond.

you nodded. “and you know what, fuck your coworkers and your boss, they’re all bitch made and complain about the stupidest things anyway.” you giggled, covering your face once more..

“shut up, bin.” you laughed. “no no no, i just got you smiling again, don’t hide from me.” he joked, grabbing your hands, revealing your smiling, tear-stained face. “there she is.” he cooed. you blushed looking up at him, suddenly tugging im down to you. “yah!” he exclaimed, giggling with you.

you hugged him tight, his arms coming to do the same. you shove your face into his neck, staying there for a moment before placing a kiss there. “thank you, bubba,” you murmured into his skin. “i don’t know what i’d do without you.” squeezing him one more time before feeling him pull away.

you let him go, arms resting on his biceps, looking at each other for a moment. he then starting smothering your face in kisses causing you to giggle once more. “binnie! oh my god, please.” you say laughing pushing him back. 

“okay okay, i’m sorry i just wanted to hear you laugh again.’ he conceded.”but seriously, you never have to thank me for that, it’s what i’m here for, okay?” you smiled and nodded. “good, now naptime for my favorite sleepy girl.” he said before giving you a kiss followed by a loud “muah!” laying down, pulling you into him again. 

you settle against his chest once more, feeling lighter and tired. “i love you so much my sweet, smart girl, never forget that.” you blush, kissing his heart once more. “i love you too binnie, more than you know..” a light smile, gracing your face once more as you feel yourself falling into dreamland, in the arms of your favorite boy.

a/n: ngl i got lost in the sauce and it was taking too long to finish this so i kinda rushed the ending but i'll try to revisit it when i proofread it to improve it :)

[farfromstrange]

Chaos Theory | Michael Kinsella x Reader

Chapter 7: I Hope I Never Lose You

Masterlist ° Chapter List

Pairing: Michael Kinsella x Reader

Summary: Michael and you both find comfort in each other over some Chinese takeout, he starts taking Birdy’s advice, and somehow you both end up on the dining table.

Warnings: Angst, mentions of a car accident & child death, hurt/comfort, fluff, like this is sweet, SMUT (18+ MINORS DNI), oral m!receiving, unprotected p in v, dirty talk, choking, marking kink, anywhere but a bed, gentle intimacy/aftercare

Word Count: 6.8k

A/n: So, this was supposed to be just fluff, but these two had a mind of their own and they ended up fucking. Again. But in this case it’s just passion and not necessarily to forget something. They’re just horny little bastards. But can you blame them?

The newspaper clippings feel brittle in your hands. The paper has been locked inside and moved around continuously for six years. Dark dots adorn the written text underneath the headline. The tears have long dried into the paper, but it has turned gray where the wetness used to be. 

Underneath the many articles that are held together by a pin, you find a picture. The quality isn’t the best – It was an old camera that took the picture nine years ago, not some hyper-modern smartphone with a camera quality that competes with reality.

Your eyes scan the face of the newborn wrapped in her pink baby blanket. The faces of the adults around her seem happy, the smiles honest. In every picture, the baby is being handed around. You have studied them for years, and you always skip most of them until you reach the most important one, and that is Maya, her back then still small arms holding the newborn as you’re sitting beside her. But you don’t matter, only the two children are the focus of your attention. 

Breaking News: 2 injured and 1 dead in a car accident off the M25 Motorway.

Your fingers scan the article as if it were Braille. 

Yesterday around 17:46, a truck crashed into a small van on its way out of Greater London. The three-year-old girl in the passenger seat and the truck driver, 41, were air-lifted to the hospital. The driver of the van, the three-year-old’s father, only sustained minor injuries. The doctors tried to save the girl’s life, but they declared her brain dead early this morning. The truck driver is reportedly stable after surgery, but he has still not woken up. Details about the nature of the accident are still unclear. Police are now investigating both the father and the truck driver for reckless driving to bring some closure to the little girl’s family.

You slap the drawer of your desk shut when you hear the sound of a fist banging at your door. You wipe the stray tear that escaped your eye, hoping your state of mind isn’t too obvious, and you lock the drawer again. 

Michael is about to knock again when you finally open the door. His intuition tells him something is wrong. You meet him with a smile that almost looks pained, and your cheeks are red; your cheeks only redden when you blush or you have been crying. 

“Hey,” you greet him. 

He steps past you into the apartment. “Hey,” he says. 

You offer to take his coat, but he does it himself, retrieving the folder inside. 

“I’ve got my records,” he tells you. “All of them. I wasn’t sure what we needed.”

You smile at him. “That’s okay.”

“Are ya?”

“What?”

“Okay?” Michael asks. 

Your mind is a treacherous place. You can feel yourself tearing up again at his question. The answer is obvious, but you can’t admit that you’re not okay because you feel stupid enough already.

The day has gone well except for a few minor bumps, and you broke your own heart by going through the drawer again that you keep locked, even from yourself, for a reason. If anything, you think, this is your fault. 

You take a small step forward. He watches you intently. Your eyes switch to his arms, then to his face almost guiltily. You could have just asked, but you’re not sure how to voice what you need. 

He puts the folder down and opens his arms slowly. You bridge the gap between you, wrapping your arms around his waist and burying your face in his chest. You don’t cry, you only hug him, and he doesn’t hesitate to hug you back. You don’t have to tell him that you’re not okay, he can tell by the way you’re squeezing him. 

“Was it a bad day, or–”

You shake your head. “I just…” you swallow. 

“Needed a hug?” he finishes. 

“Yeah,” you say.

“Okay.”

It feels nice to be on the receiving end of a hug for once, but as you hold onto him and his hands roam your back, the intensity of his touch tells you that you are not the only one who needed a hug. 

“Are you okay?” you dare to ask, your voice muffled through his chest.

He chuckles. “Yeah,” he says, “I am now.”

“Okay.”

Michael leans down to press his lips to your scalp. “Ya hungry?”

You pull away to look up at him through tired eyes. “A little,” you say. 

“Let’s order somethin’, hm?”

“Chinese?”

“Sounds grand,” he agrees. 

He brushes a strand of hair out of your face. His lips ghost over yours with a soft smile before he finally kisses you. It’s a gentle kiss, his finger tilting your chin up, and he seems to pour all of his unspoken feelings into it. 

You melt into him, your arms still around his waist. Your fingers tangle in his shirt, not wanting to let go. He is warm and he smells good, and he feels soft all over. Sometimes, when things are too soft, they trigger you, but he is just the kind of gentle comfort you need. 

An hour later, the two of you are sitting at your dining table, Chinese takeout before you. Michael ordered himself some dumplings and spring rolls while you settled for sushi. He told you he hates sushi, which sparked a small argument because, “How the fuck can you hate sushi, Michael? Even the fried ones?”

He told you, “Because I hate fish.”

“It’s not fish, it’s literally vegetarian Sushi,” you said. 

He was hesitant to try a piece, but he did it for your sake. You have never seen anyone’s face contort so fast than when Michael put the piece of Avocado Maki into his mouth. He tried to look like it didn’t bother him, but you could tell he was trying hard not to gag. 

Needless to say, you have accepted that he doesn’t like Sushi. He truly looked like he was disgusted to his very core, and you don’t want to force him to like something that a lot of people don’t like, anyway. You’re not that type of person. 

He watches you as you finish your last few bites. It took you a while longer because you stole one or two dumplings from his plate while he wasn’t looking and he ended up giving you half of his spring rolls because suddenly, you wanted spring rolls, too. He didn’t mind.

You are a food thief first and a clothes thief second, you told him, and that elicited that beautiful smile and a soft laugh from him; he sounds so beautiful when he laughs, and you find yourself staring at him in awe across the table. 

You can't help but be captivated by the way his eyes crinkle at the corners when he laughs, and the dimples that he has. It's moments like these that remind you why you're so drawn to him. He has a good heart and the aura that surrounds him isn't dark because he's dangerous, he's just in pain, and beyond that pain, there is light to be sought out. 

“What?” he asks, his laughter dying down into a soft smile.

You raise your eyebrows, your face still propped up on your hand. “What?” you ask him. 

“Why’re ya lookin’ at me like that?”

“Like what?”

“That.” Michael points at your face. “I don’t know.”

A faint blush spreads across your cheeks. “Maybe I just like staring at you,”  you say. 

Michael's eyes widen slightly. "Wha'?" he replies. 

“I like staring at you.”

That seems to throw him off a little. He opens his mouth, but the words won’t come out, so he looks down at the table and chuckles a little awkwardly. His hand reaches up to touch his beard, occupying his nervous fingers. 

“Wait,” you eye him curiously, “Did I just get you flustered?”

He stammers, the blush on his cheeks spreading to what little you can see of his chest through the collar of his shirt. He has often got lost in the glow of your eyes. Even when you look tired, you are still the most beautiful creature in the world. You are real, you are human, and he appreciates that. He knows you are hiding something, but at that moment, when his eyes meet the mischievous glint in your eyes, he only sees the woman he met in the café that put a smile on his face – a real one, at that. 

You continue putting a smile on his face, even back at his house. Birdy is observant and a romantic, but she wouldn’t say that he looks happy with you for no reason. She meant it. And he does feel a flutter in his stomach every time he as much as thinks about you. He’s scared, still, but Birdy’s words moved something in him. He doesn’t want to lose you, and as you’re staring at him, he realizes that you might be feeling the same way. 

You’re a captivating person, enchanting even. He hasn’t seen such beauty in a while. Inside and out, you fill his heart with warmth. Your words have become his favorite audiobook, and your voice reminds him of a gentle symphony radiating all kinds of emotions to make the listener feel something. And he feels something when he sees you, hears you, and feels your skin against his. 

You tilt your head a little, still propped up on your hand, and smile at him. Your smile grows cuter by the second, and maybe you’re a little shy now. 

“I, uh…” he licks his lips. “I like starin’ at ya, too.”

“You do?” you ask, and now it’s your turn to be flustered. 

“Yeah. Yer beautiful.”

“Oh…” You look away. 

He reaches out to pull the hands that want to cover your face. “Don’t go shy on me now, love,” he says. 

You meet the honey of Michael’s irises, and it’s a sweet taste that explodes on your tongue and spreads through your body, functioning as a balm and warming you up. You forget about everything else for a moment and focus slowly on him. 

In your eyes, Michael Kinsella is a rare creature. He seems to have been taken straight from a work of fiction. He’s the dark, mysterious character with a world full of secrets but a heart of gold. And he loves with utmost devotion, something that is rare in most human beings these days. He has a tragic beauty about himself, his soul scarred from decades of pain, his life a series of traumatic memories, but he is still standing, and he is trying to be better. He’s trying to find a purpose, which is probably the most admirable because it is one of the hardest tasks in anyone’s life.

You look up to him. You’re not sure why, but you do. He’s shared so much about himself already, and something seems even more open now that he’s back. You feel a little guilty for keeping all of your pain from him after he opened up about his wife and entrusts you with helping to get his daughter back, which is a huge display of trust, but you don’t know how to tell him, and you don’t know if you even really want to. 

This is a part of you that is very personal, and knowing Michael, he will lose it when he finds out the truth. You haven’t seen him angry before, but you have been watching people closely all your life; he is shy on the outside and he can be nice, but he can also get really angry when someone crosses him or the people he cares about. You don’t want him worrying about you. 

He cradles your cheek and you grab his wrist instinctively, holding him there as you lean into his touch. “Where did ya just go?” he asks quietly. 

“Just thinking,” you admit just as quietly. 

“About what?”

You shrug, your eyes fluttering closed when he starts rubbing his thumb along your cheekbone. 

“Has no one ever taken care of ya before?” 

“No.”

“Am I the first man who makes ya feel…”

“Loved?” you ask. 

He nods. “Yeah, loved.”

“Most of the men I’ve been with were assholes. They didn’t care.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know, my friend says I just know how to pick ‘em.”

Michael chuckles softly. “Is that why ya went fer me?” he says.

“You’re not an asshole, Mikey.”

Your words leave the air heavy with tension. He exhales, cradling your face a little tighter now and you whimper, your mind slipping further into a fog with every stroke of his thumb along your skin. 

He lets go of your cheek. You open your eyes lazily and look at him with a frown. He opens his arms. “C’mere,” he says. 

You’re out of your chair faster than you can think. 

Without hesitation, you respond to Michael's invitation. Your heart races with anticipation as you swiftly leave your chair behind. You seat yourself in his lap, pulling your legs up and curling into his chest. His hand comes to rest on your cheek again, this time holding you tight against him, his heartbeat thudding right where your ear rests. You melt into his embrace. You are scared of uncertainties, but his arms encircle you tight enough to form a shield against them. Everything else fades away, leaving only the two of you.

You take a deep breath, inhaling the scent that is uniquely him—notes of earthy cologne mixed with a hint of vulnerability. It's a fragrance that lingers in your senses.

“You smell good,” you murmur. 

He chuckles. “Thanks,” he says. 

“Like you… and me.”

“That’s ‘cause I used your shampoo.”

“I know.”

“Makes my hair soft.”

“I know.”

“And shiny.”

Your smile widens and you giggle into his chest. “It does look very shiny, yeah,” you say. 

He sighs, his turn to inhale your scent. It’s like a warm hug, and he can’t believe he gets to hold you like this. “God,” he almost growls. His nose is still buried deep in your hair. “Ya have no idea how much I love having ya in my arms, pet.”

You shiver slightly. “You do?” your voice sounds hoarse. 

“Yeah.” Michael holds you tighter, his lips attacking your scalp gently with kisses. It’s almost as if he wants to eat you, and you relax completely under his touch as he showers you with some much-needed affection.

You forget the folder on the table, the secrets between you, your day at work, and the stranger that freaked you out enough to send your mind reeling like a hamster running for its life in a wheel. You forget all about it and let him take care of you. You are too tired to protest, anyway. 

His hand comes to rest around your throat, and you moan softly. He’s setting you on fire without even trying. His touch is possessive and yet it carries an electric current that courses through your veins. 

You feel the weight of the world slipping away, replaced by an overwhelming sense of vulnerability. In his grasp, you find solace. He brings you back from the brink of losing your sanity, and you are eternally grateful he found the switch to turn the voices off. 

He whispers your name. You hum in response. 

“Thank you,” he says. 

“For what?” you ask. 

“Helpin’ me. With the job, Anna, myself, I–” He takes a deep breath. He doesn’t use many words most of the time, so holding up a conversation as vulnerable as this one still comes as a struggle to him. “I’m just thankful for ya,” he says. 

You smile, sitting up in his lap and making sure you straddle him so you can look into his eyes. Your hands rest on each side of his face now. “You’re so very welcome, darling,” you say. 

Michael rests his hands on the bare skin of your hips under your shirt. “While I was at the house, Birdy came t’see me.”

“Birdy?”

“Yeah, she’s– she’s family. I– She’s the one who’s been there fer me the most, and she always cares ‘bout everyone around her. She takes care of me. She always has. I don’t ask her to, but she does it anyway. She’s the heart and soul of this family.”

You tilt your head to the side. “Okay…”

“She asked me about ya,” he says. 

“Oh,” you gasp softly. 

“Not– not in a bad way. I promise, yer not in danger or anythin’, but… when Jimmy and I were fightin’, they heard your name. But Birdy… she understands, so I told her that I’m stayin’ with ya and she said… she told me I should be happy, and I am happy with ya, or somethin’ like that, and she said she’d try to keep the rest of my family off our asses so I can focus on Anna.”

You pause and look into his eyes for a moment before you say, “Aren’t you supposed to make me not like them?”

His chuckle sounds broken, but he smiles anyway. “Birdy’s nice,” he says. 

“I can tell.”

“And she said she likes ya.”

“She has never met me.”

“She still does.”

“Ugh, I can’t hate someone who likes me.”

Burying his head on your shoulder, Michael laughs. 

“Seriously, that’s unfair. Can’t she be a cunt like your brother and his snitch of a wife?”

His mind takes a moment to process your words before his laughter picks up again and he stares directly at you. “Did ya–” he clears his throat. “Jesus, did tha’ really just come out of your mouth?”

“What?” you ask. 

“The word ‘cunt’ as an insult.”

“What, I’m not allowed to say it?”

He pulls you closer. “I didn’t even know ya were capable of cussin’ someone out!”

“I’m not a total church girl, Michael,” you retort. 

The amusement in his eyes is clear. “Oh, I’m well aware of that,” he says. “Yer not the type o’ girl who prays.”

“It’s not what I usually get on my knees for, no.”

He chuckles, the sound resonating deep within his chest. You expected him to get flustered, but instead, his eyes glaze over and he smirks at you. His fingers graze the small of your back, creating a tingling sensation that travels up your spine. You shiver, your inside curling. You want to clench your thighs, but his thighs keep you trapped. You're burning, and the heat travels from your cheeks between your legs, straight to your core.

Michael eyes you hungrily. “And what’s that?” he asks, his voice husky. “What do ya get on your knees for, pet?”

“Well, Mr. Kinsella,” you whisper, “I get on my knees for one thing only...” Your fingers tangle in the hairs on the nape of his neck. He sucks in a sharp breath when you tug at them, the pain stinging his scalp, but it causes his blood to wander. 

“Yeah?” he breathes.

His eyes never leave yours. You trace a finger along the strong line of his jaw, reveling in the way his body responds to your touch. “Yeah… Just one thing.”

“Tell me.”

“You.”

His fingers dig into your skin hard enough to leave marks. “Fuck!”

“I would kneel for you, Michael,” you say. 

“Yeah?” he asks again. 

“Yeah.”

You can feel his breath on your lips as he leans in. "I want ta have ya at my mercy," his voice caresses your ear like velvet.

Your fingers travel higher, feeling the soft brown hair between your fingers. They feel like a gentle breeze on a cozy autumn night. They remind you of the coffee you sell every time the weather gets particularly cold, but inside the café, the world becomes a warm sanctuary. 

His hands are hot though. They are like a candle with a smoldering fire, and as it falls, it sets everything else around it on fire, too. His nails scratch over your hips slightly and your entire body quivers above him. 

His gaze darkens with primal hunger. “You have no idea,” he says, “how much I ache to possess ya.”

You started this. This is your fault.

His lips press to the shell of your ear – they don’t just hover, he’s pressing them directly to it, and he injects his words into your bloodstream. “I want to push ya to the edge, to make you mine in every way I can imagine. To mark ya, body and soul. I want to feel ya come around my cock over and over again, mouth, cunt, everywhere until ya can't remember your name anymore,” he whispers, “I want to hear ya moan my name so loud, your neighbors complain, and then I want t’ do it again and again and again until yer drippin' with my cum inside ya.”

Your jaw slacks and you let out a loud and needy moan. 

His hands move from your hips to your ass and he lifts you far enough to push your clothed core down on his half-hard cock. You instinctively hold onto his shoulders, your red face burying in the crook of his neck. 

“What’s wrong?” Michael coos. “Can’t take it?”

That’s not the problem. You want to take it and you know you can, but he is making you feel this way without even touching you, and that’s what makes your head so dizzy, you feel like you’re about to fall.

You can barely catch your breath, the anticipation building to a fever pitch. “Please, Michael,” you respond so desperately needy. 

“Get on your knees.”

Your legs are wobbly when you stand. He pushes his chair back slightly to offer you some room between his spread thighs. As uncomfortable as the floorboards are, you ignore the pain. You want this. You didn’t lie when you said he is the only thing you would get on your knees for. There is no space for God or Jesus, it’s only you, and it can’t be a sin to want to suck someone’s cock so badly as you want his. It’s only natural when someone lays their eyes on him, you’re sure. 

Michael's gaze is intense as he looks down at you. He reaches down to cup your cheek. “Yer so beautiful on your knees f’me,” he says. 

You clench your thighs, hoping to somehow soothe the ache in your core. The anticipation is almost unbearable, making you ache for his command. You want nothing more than to open your pants and touch yourself, your panties soaked and your cunt aching for attention. 

“Please,” you whimper. 

“Patience, pet. Let me admire you.”

His definition of admiring you is undressing you with his eyes, thinking about all the ways he can have your body right here right now, and he craves you like the most delicious drug. He craves the high, the feeling of being consumed by you as he tears orgasm after orgasm out of you. You look so pretty, and you sound so beautiful.

Your hands rub his thick thighs absentmindedly. He smiles. Deciding to have mercy on you, he undoes his belt with one hand. You watch intently until he starts to struggle and you help him pull his pants down. His jeans pool around his ankles, and you’re quick to free his cock from his boxers. It springs up against his stomach and you’re so turned on, you can feel drool trickling down your chin. 

Michael brushes your hair back. “Are you sure ya want t’do this?” he asks. 

“Yes,” you choke out. “Please, may I?”

He nods. “Of course, yeah.”

You adjust yourself and lean forward, your hands still braced on his thighs, and you lick a long stripe along the underside of his shaft. 

He grips the edge of his chair and grunts. His hand tangles in your hair instantly, not pushing you but simply holding onto you. Your tongue traces the veins on his cock, drawing pictures over the most protruding one. You move higher now, teasing his tip, and his head falls back. 

Michael stares at the ceiling which looks like the night sky in the darkness. The heat of your mouth engulfs him and he believes he’s in heaven.

You’re good at this, he won’t lie. The way you play with his slit, the mushroom tip of his cock, before taking him into your mouth. It’s only the tip at first, too, but you eventually hollow your cheeks and take him down your throat. It’s a bit of a struggle, but you’re nothing if not determined. Your hand makes up for what you can’t take, jerking him off right above his balls before you finally start moving. 

Looking down at your hooded eyes and tear-stained cheeks, he has to dig his nails into his palms to stop himself from coming right there. 

You start moving faster, paying special attention to his tip whenever you pull off. You suck on the most sensitive part of him and he’s alive; he’s so alive, his heart starts to race. He can feel everything, the heat of your mouth, the cold of the chair, and the sweat that is trickling down his forehead. 

He grunts, tightening his grip on your hair. “Fuckin’ hell!” he moans, guiding your head ever so slightly. He tells you what pace he prefers, and you keep it that way. 

Your head bops up and down in a steady rhythm, his cock heavy on your tongue, but the taste causes your mind to spin and ache for more, more, more–

His toes curl and he twitches in your mouth when you fondle his balls. Looking up at him, you can’t help but moan at the sight. His mouth is agape, his head tilted back to reveal his perfect neck, and the veins on his forearm are popping. You clench your thighs tighter as you continue to suck the soul out of him through the very tip of his cock. 

Michael has dreamt about this before, but neither your hand nor your mouth come close to what he jerked himself off to. You’re so much better. It’s a lewd thought, even now, but you are so fucking good, you push him further and further and right to the edge of the cliff. He throbs, he whines and he moans, his noises spurring you on even more. 

You want to make him come, you need to. You are more than willing to swallow everything he has to give and more. He sounds delicious and he looks even more so. You want to lick his chest hair that is poking out of his shirt, ride his thigh, maybe even rub your clit along his abs as you make yourself come. It is an utterly selfish thought, but the pleasure he brings you is overwhelming and drives you further toward the edge. And you’re only sucking his cock, which is something that has never turned you on before. 

“Love, I’m gonna– fuck, if ya don’t want it in your mouth–”

You cut him off by patting his chest, telling him that it’s okay, he can come in your mouth; you want him to. 

Your eyes roll back when he tugs at your hair, the pain mingling with pleasure, and the vibrations of your delicious moans are enough to make his balls tense under your touch and then he’s coming, hard, with probably the best orgasm he’s ever had in his life. 

You try not to gag as the rather salty taste of his cum fills your mouth. You swallow every last drop, suckling on his tip until he’s whimpering above you, overstimulated and spent. You pull off then, cum trickling down your chin and throat and down the valley of your breasts. 

Michael has zoned out, his eyes fixated on your face, your swollen lips, and the mess he’s made out of you – but he is probably the biggest mess out of both of you.

You blink up at him. “How was that?” you ask, your voice sounding way too innocent for what you just did. 

His breath shudders. “Do–” he swallows. “Do ya have any idea how fuckin’ hot that was?”

“No,” you say. 

“Fuck,” Michael growls, hoisting you up. 

He doesn’t pull you back into his lap, instead, he meets you halfway and captures your lips in a searing kiss. You moan into his mouth, his cum mixing with his saliva in your mouth; you’re addicted now, too. 

The empty takeout containers fly to the floor, the folder with his records and CV sliding to the other end of the table as he wipes it clean to lift you on it. You scramble to sit down as he pulls your hips flush against his. 

He turns into an animal then. 

Your shirt suffers when he can’t manage to get the buttons, so he decides to tear it open. You gasp, but not because you’re mad. It is probably the hottest thing he has ever done. 

Your bra joins your shirt on the floor, his lips wrapping around your nipple. He doesn’t gently suck like he did the first night; he pulls on it with his teeth, almost taking your entire breast into his mouth, and you never thought that possible. He assaults your chest with such vigor, you’re a quivering mess in seconds. He toys with your buttons, pulling and sucking at your sensitive nipples until they’re hard, swollen, and red. There is a hickey on your right breast, and he admires his work. He has marked you, and this time everyone will be able to see it when you wear even the slightest hint of cleavage. 

His pants are already gone. Yours are the only ones in the way. Lifting your hips, he pulls your jeans down. He misses your panties, which seems to frustrate him, but then he tears that piece of fabric, too, and you moan. Whatever got into him, you are wetter than the Atlantic Ocean and he will have no problem sliding right–

Your head flies back when his cock penetrates your tight walls, your lips parting in a silent scream. He thrusts into you without warning, pulling your hips flush against his, and you cry out. He manages to hit the secret spot inside of you just right the first time as if memorizing it, and your legs wrap around his waist. 

For a few seconds, Michael doesn’t move. He stays buried with his cock deep inside of you, head dropped into the crook of your neck, his jaw slack as he pants into your skin, and you hold him close. Your cunt adjusts to his size rather quickly, but he needs a second to revel in the feeling of your velvety walls around him. 

“You okay?” you ask. 

He nods. “Are you?”

“Yeah.”

“Good.” 

Something snaps inside of him and in only a few seconds, the dining table is shaking underneath your ass as he pounds into you. You hold onto his hair, nails dragging down his back, trying to get his shirt off so you can reach more skin. He’s fucking you so deliciously, the moans tumble from your lips in ecstasy. 

Somehow, you manage to remove the last piece of clothing between you, and he dives in for a kiss. Your tongues clash. His hips snap against yours. Deep, hard strokes seem to be his favorite thing because it’s what he goes for this time, too. He hits all the right places, his fingers leaving indentations in your skin. 

“Fuck,” you moan into his ear. 

His tongue licks over your neck. “Yer so fuckin’ perfect,” he breathes. 

You clench when he hits your G-spot. His name comes in labored breaths out of your mouth, and he swallows them with his plump lips. 

“Can’t stop thinkin’ about fuckin’ you every second of every fuckin’ day, pet. Such a perfect little cunt, and only fer me.”

“Oh, God!”

You’re worried the table might break. 

He kisses your neck, sucking a mark into the skin over your pulse point. You’re going to be purple and bruised tomorrow, and you’re going to get several comments at work, but you don’t want him to stop. It’s good to be owned by him. You want people to know you’re his and no one else’s to have. It fills you with pride, and you know he feels it, too. 

Your eyes meet when he lifts his head, his thrusts faltering for a moment as he holds eye contact. You gasp, stroking through his sweaty hair. “You’re beautiful,” you whisper. 

He stifles his moan in your neck, holding you impossibly closer as he continues thrusting slow and hard. 

“Fuck, baby,” you dig your nails into his back, “Right there…”

He knows he’s doing it right, he can feel your pussy tightening around him, but he still makes sure to do it even more perfectly to give you the pleasure you deserve. 

His hand finds your neck, squeezing tightly just below your jaw, and your eyes roll back into your head. He remembered. 

Just when you’re about to reach between you to rub your clit, he forces your hand away and takes over, his thumb rubbing circles over the sensitive nub. The added stimulation together with his hand around your throat makes you see a sky full of stars in your ceiling, and you try to meet his thrusts as the knot in your stomach tightens and you’re about to fall off the precipice. 

He bites your bottom lip. “Ya like that, huh?” he asks, his thumb rubbing faster over your clit. “Ya like it when I fuck ya, pet? When I make ya come? When I show ya what it’s like to be properly fucked?”

You nod and pathetically whine, “Yes! Please, Mikey.” It sounds almost like you’re sobbing. “So good, please.”

Michael reads the signs of your body perfectly because he pushes you back and pulls your hips into his. It allows his thumb more space to touch your clit, and the angle at which he hits your cervix makes it all too much to bear. 

Your back arches off the wooden tabletop and you come without a warning, your walls spasming almost brutally around his cock that is still sensitive from the already heavy orgasm you gave him before, and with a few more heavy thrusts, a grunt escapes him and he falls on top of you as his cum spurts into your tight cunt. 

You catch him with a hand on the back of his neck, your legs still wrapped around his waist. He stiffens completely, every last drop filling you to the brim, and you whimper at the feeling. It’s incredible, and it’s a part of him you get to have inside of you. He’s a territorial person, but so are you.

He is the first man you have ever let come inside of you without a condom, but he makes it worth it. 

His bicep tenses as Michael lifts himself, a strand of hair falling into his face in the process. “Jesus Christ,” he says. 

Your chest heaves. “Yeah,” you say. 

“Are ya–” he cradles your face with an almost concerned look. “Are ya alright?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“I didn’t mean to be so rough, I–”

“I liked it,” you cut him off. He’s cute when he overthinks something as simple as sex. You reach up and gently brush the strand of hair away from his face. “I'm more than alright,” you assure him. “I’m perfect.”

His shoulders visibly relax. “Perfect, huh?” he repeats, a hint of a smirk appearing on his lips. “Well, I'm glad you think so. Wouldn't want t' disappoint ya.”

You let out a soft laugh. “Trust me, Michael, there's no disappointment here. Quite the opposite, actually.”

He presses a tender kiss against your forehead. “Okay, good.”

You close your eyes. You’re both a mess and the position gets more uncomfortable with every second, but he has hoisted you up in no time after pressing a gentle kiss to your lips. He slips out of you, carrying your sweaty body in his arms toward the bathroom. You cling to him with a content smile, your legs shaking, but you can’t complain. 

Once inside the bathroom, he carefully sets you down. The room is filled with the sound of running water as he adjusts the temperature, ensuring it's just right for you. He remembers you prefer the sizzling temperature of lava; he likes it cold. After the first shower together, you managed to find a middle ground together that doesn't burn his skin or freeze you to death. 

As the water cascades down in the shower, he extends his hand toward you, silently inviting you to join him. You take his hand without hesitation. Under the soothing water, he tenderly washes away the clammy feeling of the day and the remnants of his cum. He runs his hands through your wet hair, massaging the shampoo into your scalp and spreading conditioner over the ends of your hair. You enjoy the way he's taking care of you so effortlessly and unconditionally, not expecting anything in return. But of course, once you're free of soap, you return the favor. 

With gentle movements, you lather the soap over his skin, reveling in the way it glides across his contours. Your fingers trace his muscles, exploring the familiar terrain of his body. You stop at his chest hair, running your fingers through it. He shudders, but he takes the display of affection without words. He's beautiful, and the added hair makes him look delicious enough to eat, but you have been through that; this is just about you two now, some gentle intimacy without anything beyond fleeting touches and shampoo. 

You stop over a scar on his hip. “What happened there?” you break the silence with a murmur. 

“Ya really wanna know?” he asks. 

“Yes.”

“Knife fight.”

“Oh.”

“But it was nothin’ serious.”

“Still,” you trace your finger over the scar, “I’m sorry.”

“Shh–” Michael pulls you closer and presses his lips to yours. “Don’t worry ‘bout it,” he says. “I’m okay.”

You kiss him back, wrapping your arms around his neck. As the water continues to rain over you, you get lost in the feeling of each other, your skin feeling like silk under each other’s fingertips. 

Wrapped in each other's arms, the world fades away. Your skin brushes against his. Your fingers glide over his back, tracing the contours of his muscles, as his hands roam over your curves. It’s sensual, but it’s no longer sexual. 

“Michael,” you breathe against his lips. 

He moves from your mouth to your cheek and then your forehead. “Hm?” he asks. 

“I really like you,” you confess. 

Michael stops, his hazel eyes meeting yours. You look so shy when you bite your lip and avoid his gaze. He smiles, tilting your chin up with his index finger. “I really like you, too,” he tells you. 

It’s not an ‘I love you’ but it best describes how you both feel for each other. 

“Closer,” you whisper, your voice barely audible over the sound of the water. 

You crave him. He responds without hesitation, pulling you closer until there's no space left between you. You rest your head against his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against your cheek.

His lips brush your temple. “Like that?” he asks. 

“Yeah, like that.”

“I never thought…” His hands begin to roam your back and he tries to find the right words. “I never thought I’d feel like this again,” Michael admits. 

You don’t look up, but your grip around his waist tightens in understanding. 

“Yer bringin’ me back to life,” he says your name with so much certainty, “and I can’t thank ya enough for that.”

You try to keep your tears at bay. His confession is vulnerable, and you figure it’s not something he often does. He has bled his heart out for you the day before, and now his cages are gone and he’s continuously giving you his blood for you to filter and breathe it back into him – you’re bringing him back to life, setting his heart alight, and he wants nothing more than for the feeling to persist. You want the same for him, too. 

But Michael also wants to bring you back to life because he can tell you’re holding back, your shoulders tense with the secrets that threaten to weigh you down and drown you in the endless sea of your emotions. It’s hard enough for him to be so open, and he still has so much left to say, but he hopes that Birdy was right with what she said– he hopes you will open up to him once he finds the courage to tell you even the last bits and pieces of his story, and that he can help bring you back to life, too. 

“I don't want this to end,” your voice breaks.

“It won't end,” Michael whispers into the crown of your head, “not if I have anythin' ta say 'bout it. We'll take it one step at a time, but I'm not lettin' go of ya.”

“I don't want to let go either.”

“Then don’t.” 

“I won’t,” you say. 

Because you need him, and without him, you’re pretty sure you will not be able to exist anymore. 

Tagging: @bellaxgiornata @shouldbestudying41 @your-not-invisible-to-me @glowstick-lesbian @ms-murdockswift @acharliecoxedfan @mattmurdocksscars @roseallisonparker @1988-fiend @norestfortheshelbywicked @loveroftoomanyfandoms

[chrisevanslovesposts]

Pilot

Shameless Masterlist

Nobody's saying our neighborhood's the Garden of Eden. Hell, some people say God avoids this place altogether. But it's been a good home to us, to me and my kids, who I'm proud of because everyone single one of them reminds me a little bit of me.

Fiona, my rock, huge help, has all the best qualities of her mother, except she's not a raging psycho bitch.

Lip, smart as a whip. Straight A's and the honor roll. Boy's definitely going somewhere.

Harriet, but we call her Rue, her middle name. 2 minutes older than Lip. Probably the kindest of us, but doesn't take no shit. Straight A's and honor roll, smarter then Lip, got to skip her freshman year.

Ian, industrious, conscientious, ambitious, incredibe work ethic. Don't have a clue where he got that from. Want's to be a paratrooper. Knows how to disembowel an enemy with a roll of dimes and an old gym sock.

Carl...um, I don't really know that much about Carl. Oh, loves animals. Always dragging home some poor stray he found, taking them up to his room.

Ah, Debbie, sent by God, total angel. Raises money for UNICEF year-round, some of which she actaully turns in.

Liam, gonna be a star. I'm no biologist, but he looks a little bit like my first sponsor. He and the ex were close.

Kev and Veronica, fantastic neighbors. There's nothing they won't do for each other or to each other. I never realized how little sex I was having till V and Kev moved next door.

And me, Frank Gallagher, father, teacher, mentor. Captain of our little ship. We may not have much, but all of us, to a man knows the most important thing in this life: We know how to fucking party. Wa-ha!

------------------------------------------

Rue fixed the gloves on her fingers before taking a sip of her beer. She was staring at the burning car when she heard sirens. She threw her beer into the burning car and stood up before following everyone else back to the house.

The next morning Rue rolled over hearing a knock on her door and in walked Fiona.

"7:15!" She told her before going onto the next room. She sat up rubbing her eyes and laid back down, "Get up, Rue!" Fiona called a few seconds later.

She groaned before finally standing up out of her bed. As she walked out of her room she found Ian running for the bathroom.

"Ian! You had it first yesterday. I called it today! You dick!" She yelled hitting the door with her fist. She walked back to her bedroom and grabbed a shirt before going downstairs. She walked over to the sink and started washing her hair.

"Rue! Use the shower, that's what its for!" Fiona called at her as she smothered soap into her hair.

"Ian fucking took it, after I called yesterday!" She yelled back as she watched the soap out.

After washing the soap out of her she grabbed the shirt and wrapped it in her hair then headed up stairs. She dried her hair with the towel then grabbed a hair brush and hair tie and braided her hair and got dressed. It helped that ever since she was little she had been a savor of her money unless needed, which happened mroe often then not, but she was still able to buy her self some nice clothing, and if she was able to wash her clothes each weekend she was able to switch all the around and make different outfits.

She walked downstairs and sat down at the table and poured herself a bowl of cereal and started eating as Fiona set a cereal box down in the middle of the table.

"Eletric." She said before walking away.

"Yea." Lip nodded his head.

"Coming through." Ian ran out the door and set his stuff down outside before coming back to the table.

"Eletric." Lip said passing the box to Rue. She pulled 30 dollars out of her back pocket and put it in before handing it to Ian.

"Eletric." She told him and he put some money in it then it was passed to Carl. Who just handed it to Debbie.

"Eletric." He told her.

"No, you got a Happy Meal on the front of that shirt." Fiona told Carl.

"Oh, um, field trip. Need Dad's signature." Ian said pulling a slip out.

"Okay" Debbie said as Fiona took Carl's shirt off and put it back on him inside out.

"Deb, that's getting really good." Rue commented watching as she did Frank's signature before handing the paper back to Ian.

"Who's got the phone?" Fiona asked.

"I got it." Lip pulled it out of his pocket and threw it to her.

"Any minutes left?" Fiona asked.

"Fourteen." He said going back to his breakfast.

"Hey, I need something for show-and-tell."

"How much are we short?"

"Eighteen dollars, thirty cents"

"I'm tutoring after school. Should be able to kick in 10 more."

"Oh, yea. I'm tutoring some rich boy, so I'll pay the rest." Rue said putting her bowl in the sink.

"Wait, did Carl put in any?" Ian asked.

"You're almost 9, you're gonna have to start pulling your weight." Debbie told him.

"That's right, get a real job, not just dipping into the collection plate at St. Tim's." Lip told him as Rue poured self a cup of orange juice.

"I'm filling in for Candi. I can cover the rest, don't worry about it, Rue." Fiona told them.

"Extra kraut on mine."

"Cheese on mine."

"Somebody's gotta take Liam."

"Uh, I got a calculus test."

"I'm working after school."

"I've got that rich boy tutor, he's on the other side of town." Rue told her putting her glass in the sink and grabbed her bag, "Oh, don't worry, I'll get the rest, use your money for something else!" Rue called as ran out the door.

After spending half her day at school Rue walked back home and grabbed the neighbors bike and side her ride over to the other side of town. The first thiry minutes were bad, but the last thiry minutes were what really froze. By the time she got to the 3 story house she was shivering. As she walked up to the gate she went to push the gate opened but the it wouldn't budge. She looked around before seeing a buzzer. She pushed and it silent for a minute before some spoke.

"What?" The rude voice on the other end asked.

"Um, yes, I'm here to tutor, um.. Nathaniel Roosevelt." She told the person and the gate opened.

She walked through the gate and up to the door but before she could even reach the door it opened. A maid walked out and rushed her inside. The house was huge. Huge was an understament. The floor white tile alone with the walls. All the doors in the house were white while the furniture she could she white, black, or gray. The whole's house was one of those three colors not another color in the whole house.

"This way, ma'am." The maid spoke and she followed the maid down to long hallway's before they entered the kitchen to find a dirt blonde hair boy with bright blue eyes sitting at the counter with books and homework set out in front of him, except he was staring down at the phone in his hand which was probably the newest iphone, iphone 4s.

"Mr. Roosevelt. Your tutor is here." The maid spoke up and he looked up with a charming smile.

"Hi, I'm Harriet." Rue stretched her hand out.

"Nathaniel." He spoke shaking her hand.

"Would you guys like any snacks?" The maid asked and Rue shook her head.

"Yea, can we get just a tray of random stuff?" Nathaniel asked and the maid nodded her head.

Rue walked over and sat down beside Nathaniel and got all her stuff out. Just by this man's outfit she could tell he rich.

Especially since it was paired a rolex watch.

After setting everything up she slowly started to show him all the things he needed to know about alegebra 2. It easy for Rue to help him especially because she was in trignometrey and pre-calculus. By the time they finished it was 7 pm already.

"I'll walk you to the door." Nathaniel said as she put her bag on.

"Oh, no you don't have too." Rue told him and he shook his head.

"No, it's alright." He said. When they reached the door he opened it for her and watched her walk out to her bike.

"Hey! It's a little cold for that. You want a ride?" He told her grabbing keys off the nearby table and walking out to her.

"No, it's okay. I gotta return this to my neighbor anyway." She shrugged.

"Where do you live." He asked pressing the unlock button on the car keys.

"Oh, I just live on the other side of town, south side. You might not wanna drive your fancy car over there." She told him and he shrugged.

"I'm fine with it." He told her.

"No, its alright. It's only an hour." She told him and before he had anymore room to argue she quickly peddled off.

"Bye, Nathaniel. See you next week." She yelled

"Bye, Harry!" She smiled at the nickname as she moved up on the sidewalk and peddled faster. The faster she got home, the warmer she'll be.

15 minutes from home she had to slow down cause her fingers went numb so she was peddling without her hands. As she reached her house, she found no lights as she walked through the gate. When she opened the door though, she heard crashing around. She walked into the kitchen to see Fiona and some guy having sex.

"Who the fuck are you!" She bellowed making them both jump up and Fiona ran up stairs as the guy quickly pulled his pants up.

"Um..um. Steve. My names Steve." He told her before they heard banging on the door.

"Fiona!" They heard on the other side of the door. Steve still breathing hard went and answered the door and opened it to find a cop.

"Is Fiona in?" The officier asked

"Hi, Tony. Go get Fiona." Rue walked over to the door and Steve ran upstairs. Fiona came down the stairs just as the other cops brought Frank inside.

"You-you think you can't be- You think little guys can't be fucking faulting you--" Frank yelled drunk as the cops set him on the ground.

"I wouldn't put him near a carpet till his pants dry a bit." Tony told them as they made their way out.

"Thanks, Tony." Fiona smiled before shutting the door.

"Who the hell is that?" Steve asked.

"Our dad." Rue said before pulling 20 dollars out of her pocket and laying it on the table and went upstairs.

The next when Rue walked into the house she found everyone in the kitchen watching a guy hook a new washer and lip standing to the side with his foot wrapped.

"I thought we were broke?" She asked setting her stuff down.

"That's what I said too." Ian smiled as Fiona showed her the flowers and note.

"Steve? Damn you bagged yourself a rich one." Rue said

After it was plugged in people started doing laundry Rue left to hang out with some friends. They were out at bonefire right between the South and North of town so it was split with the rich and poor kids. Rue was sat laughing with one of her friends when she felt the piece of wood she sat on rock a little. She looked to find a familiar rich boy.

"Hey, Harry." Nathaniel smiled at her.

"Nathaniel, hi!" Her high pitch voice, pitched higher at his face.

"You okay?" He asked her concerned.

"Yea, yea." She slurred her words before chugging the rust of her beer.

"Alright, that's probably enough for you." He took the cup.

"No, no." She frowned trying to grab it from before getting up and stumbling her way towards the drinks.

"Harry, I think you've had enough for tonight." He followed after.

"Nahhhhh." She waved her hand at him before suddenly tripping. Nathaniel reached out and barely caught.

"Alright, lets go." He told her picking her up bridal style. After getting her adress from one of her friends he drove to her house. On the way she passed out so when he pulled up he had to carry her to the door. As Fiona opened the door Nathaniel set her down as she woke up,

"Fiona!" She cheered, "Aw thank you, Nathaniel." She patted his arm.

"Your welcome, Harry. I'll see you next week." He told before turning around and going back to his car.

Fiona wrapped her arm around Rue as she pulled her into the house. As Rue looked around she found her father passed out drunk on the living room floor.

"Damn, I must look just like him right now." She slurred as Fiona carefully started their way up the stairs.

"No, you don't, kid." Fiona told but she shook her head.

"Nahhhhh, I'm a fuck up. Coming home just my father. You must fucking hate me. I'm sorry." Rue continued to slur.

"Rue, you're fine. I don't hate you."

"I love you, Fiona. I probably would be alive if it wasn't for you." Rue continued on and on till they got to her room.

"Love you too." Fiona told her as she laid her down on her bed and within seconds Rue was passed out.

%

Rue walked into the house to find Fiona, Frank, V, Kev, and Steve all listening to music, dancing, smoking, and drinking.

"What the fuck." Rue said as they all turned to her and smiled.

"Rue!" They all cheered trying to get her to join 'em.

"Hell no! Get the fuck away!" She yelled pushing all the hands away that tried to grab her as she walked past them.

"Stevie boy, you lasted longer than I thought you would." Rue walked over to Steve

"Hey, I really like your sister." He told her over the loud music.

"Yea, okay, whatever rich boy." Rue shook her head and went upstairs to her room.

The next morning she woke and went downstairs to find everyone eating eggs, toast, sausage, pancakes, and bacon and Steve was cooking.

"Damn, rich boy. You can cook." Rue commented as she went to the table. They all started getting their plates full and started making random conversation. It was probably the best breakfast they had, had in years.

[angelholme]

V, V, V — Day 29 : Paradox

A paradox — a place where you can harbour two boats next to each other.

To kill a mocking bird — two thousand winged creatures that can mimic the sound of others.

Paradise — 4D6

Caramel — being looked after by a former Spice Girl named Chisolm or Brown.

Ingenious — the part of a mythical being that grants wishes on which said being sits.

I could go on, but you see where I am going here.

Or maybe you don’t. Because I have learned that sometimes I can be a little obscure (a remedy to get rid of cave dwelling creatures in Fable) and sometimes I don’t get to the point.

I like playing with language. You will have picked that up from the acronym entry yesterday, and from some of the previous posts over the past month, but due to various health problems I had as a child (and that are on-going even now) I mostly grew up in books. And as such I grew up having quite a respect for people who use language, and how they used it.

This was amplified by listening to artists such as Tom Lehrer, Flanders and Swann and other musicians who basically play with words.

So taking words and finding new definitions for them — definitely I find a good use of my time (something you can do with ropes).

It also — to some degree — expands my mind, and allows me to think outside the box. Or, in some cases, to think the box isn’t there. Because it means that when I am talking about pottery, I can wonder why a person would want to create something like Harry Potter, and if someone calls me a hippy I’m wondering if I do — in fact — look like the bone that joins the leg to the pelvis.

There is also the question of how a hairy primate that throws poop relates to a holy man who screams a lot. But that is another matter.

(Once again I am digressing)

Words are, for the most part, our primary means of communication with the rest of the world. Whether you speak English, French, German, Spanish, Russian, Italian, Latin, Belgian, Klingon, Bolian, Huttese, Sumerian, BSL or some more obscure language (like American) you still use words. I admit there are older languages that communicate via pictures — hieroglyphics, glyphs and other images — and then there are computer languages that are, at their heart, binary. Even assembly language breaks down to binary language at its heart. But no one — not even the nerdiest of nerds — will communicate for long periods of time in binary, or assembly, or even in any of the programming languages.

(I sometimes explain things in terms of coding languages — loops, true and not true, arrays and so on — but I don’t communicate in it, because it only really works if you are communicating with someone who understands it. Communicating with the general population in coding languages is like talking to a Lords of The Rings fan about The Gallagher Academy for Exceptional Young Women — it just doesn’t work).

But the odd graphical and numerical languages aside, the primary way we communicate is words, which is why words are the most important medium — more important than language (which sounds counter intuitive, I know, but words are to language as bricks are to houses. A brick is, for the most part, the same. It can be made up of different material, and come in different shapes and sizes, but when you say brick most people have more or less the same idea of what you mean. But house — that can be almost anything. A palace, a castle, a 2-up, 2-down, a detached, semi-, terraced…..

I am wandering off the topic again).

Words are the primary means of communication, and words offer us the ability to share parts of ourselves with another. Without words, and without communication, we would — perhaps — be truly alone.

Words also allow you to write long, rambly posts that do not end up where they started, because I started off writing fun definitions of words that don’t match the original meanings, and ended up talking about words keeping us from being truly alone.

Which might seem like a paradox, but it turns out that that is not what a paradox is — because, as I said, a paradox is when you have two places to moor boats side by side.

[giorno-plays-piano]

Vicious

Part VII

Pairing: Steve x reader, Bucky x reader, Thor x reader, Loki x reader, Peter x reader

Warnings: yandere, obsession, stalking, possessiveness, theft, mention of blackmail, all characters are adults.

Words: 1864.

Summary: Transferring to Stark Academy that has only allowed to take in female students last semester, you realize you are just one of three young women among hundreds of students. Your things are constantly being stolen, and soon you begin fearing for your safety.

Part I

Part II

Part III

Part IV

Part V

Part VI

________

You wanted to slap yourself. What the hell was wrong with you today? Why did you tell Peter that?!

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean...” Completely baffled with you behavior, you were deeply ashamed, unable to look the guy in the eyes and wanting nothing but fall into the earth.

“Ah, I got it. It’s Steve, isn’t it?” All of a sudden, Peter let out an irritated sigh, rolling his eyes skywards and rubbing his neck. “Of course, who else would say such nonsense. Blackmail, really? Funny he didn’t call me a stalker or anything.”

“Listen, I didn’t mean it, I’m really-”

“It’s ok.” He closed the locker, slamming its door loudly and making you jump. “It’s not your fault. If I heard that from somebody, I’d be scared too.”

He spent a couple of seconds staring into the wall until he rubbed his neck again tiredly and huffed. It took him less than a minute to regain his composure, and you heard him murmuring, “What a freak.”

He didn't return to the corridor, heading to the sports hall for his PE class, instead moving to the bench in the locker room and motioning you to sit. Feeling terribly awkward, you hoped he wasn't going to do anything out of anger, even though he had every right to be upset at your stupid behavior.

"About what he said," Peter took a deep breath, "it's nothing like that. I don't dig up some nasty stuff in the web to blackmail people. I've never done it. The reason why Mr. I-am-better-than-you said that is because I've made him take me into his little bodyguard group when I heard him talking to Loki. You're nice, and I wanted to help. Of course, Steve started acting like I was some creep, so he refused, and I had to remind him that, technically, he had to report your issue to the administration, not play a hero. I said that if I go and tell the whole story to the dean, Steve's gonna be in trouble because he knew who thieves were and didn't report them."

It was a loud off your mind. Goodness. Rogers called this a blackmail? Really? Just because Peter pushed Steve into taking him into their group?

You were less and less sure Rogers was sane. You definitely had to be careful around him.

"I can't believe he called it a blackmail." You admitted quietly, and the guy sent you a tired smile. "Peter, I'm so, so sorry. It was so stupid of me."

"Nah, don't worry. I'd freak out too if I didn't know the whole story."

You knew your apologies weren't enough, but you hoped Peter didn't take it to heart - if you can take such an accusation easily, that is. Shit, shit, shit, why did you believe everything these guys were saying? You didn't even know them in the first place! Why on Earth did you go asking them their opinions on others if all of them were biased, and every guy could twist the truth the way he liked? You shouldn't have let their words affect you that much.

"Whatever. At least now you know what Rogers is like." Peter sent you a grim smile and got up, picking his bright yellow sackpack from the floor. "Shit, I gotta go if I don't wanna be late. Let's meet in a library later, alright?"

"O-of course." You hurriedly stood up and left the lockers room after him, turning to the library: your Lit class was cancelled, so you decided to go study right away. At this time, the library was usually full, and you felt safe there.

Your thoughts were all about the guys again even when you were staring at your laptop, trying to focus on Excel numbers. Why did you feel like the atmosphere between them was so dense? If they were at such terms with each other, why did they group together to help you? What, because all of them loved you so much? It was ridiculous. There was something else to it, and you didn't know. You had a feeling no one was going to tell you the truth until you figured it all out by yourself.

Weird. It was all so weird. Steve's plan, their behavior, the relationships between them, and your nagging feeling they all were hiding something. Was it them who were actually following you?

The thought scared you to the point you started shivering. Oh shit.

"Hi there," the guy appeared behind your back so suddenly you almost jumped, looking at him wide-eyed, "sorry, did I startle you?"

"H-hi Jake! No, it's ok, I was just... studying." Both of you were talking in hushed voices, knowing the librarian would kick you out immediately if she heard some noise. "How are you?"

"I'm great, how're you?" You could hear concern in his voice: he was one of Thor's friends you met yesterday, and although you spoke briefly, Thor definitely told him more about you. "You look a bit worried."

"Oh, it's Math, I didn't really understand the topic, and we're having an exam on Monday... guess I'll be studying the whole weekend." You gave him your best smile to reassure you were totally ok, and the guy relaxed a little, smiling at you, too.

"I'm sure you'll pass. Thor said you're very smart."

What, he said that to all of them? Was he simply boasting about his girlfriend to his friends or was there something more to it?

"You're too kind. Thank you."

His smile grew wider, and he landed on the next seat to yours, resting his hands on the table. Apparently, there was something he wanted to talk to you about, and you grew uneasy.

"Listen, about these incidents... Thor told us all about it, so if you see any freaks following you around, you can message any of us, and we'll come right away." Looking at his serious expression, his bushy brows furrowed, you hoped he eas being sincere with you: you had enough with people you could no longer trust. "And also... that kid, if he's giving you troubles or anything, just let me know, and I'll tell him to keep his hands to himself"

Oh, he was talking about Peter, wasn't he? He had probably seen that silly photo. Wow, you though, Peter was totally right about Instagram: it was the best news source in the academy.

Thanking him for his concern, you laughed a little, convincing him there was nothing serious except for the theft and promising to tell him if anything weird would be going on. While it should have made you feel safer, in fact, you only grew more frustrated with this situation. You wanted to forget about these freaks and just spend you day like any normal student would, but everywhere you went people were staring at you as if you had a horn; one boyfriend or the other was always close to protect you from some unknown danger, and although you believed they tried to help, you hated the feeling they were hiding something from you. Why did you have to be going through all this? Wasn't it really better to drop off school, spend a year working and then apply to a better place?

Thinking of the faces your parents would make once you returned home, you realized it wasn't. This school with all those creeps wasn't worse than home that never felt like a safe place you wanted to come back to. Besides, all money you saved up until now were only good for buying food and things like that: you'd never afford to rent a decent place unless you found a well-paid job. It meant staying with your parents, and it wouldn't be much better than here, just different. If you wanted to drop off, you had to find a good place to stay.

Well, you could at least try, right?

When Peter met you in the library, the two of you no longer talked about anything important, simply studying together to prepare for the exams next week. It didn't feel off: from time to time you met his gaze, and the both of you smiled. You were thankful he didn’t talk about Steve or other guys or that weirdo in the lockers room.

Once you returned home, you went straight to bed, completely exhausted. Luckily, you did much more than yesterday, so you could rest now, but then you thought of Thor kissing you and bit down the pillow, angry at yourself. Why did you keep thinking of him right now?

______________

When you woke up the next morning, you felt like something was off: your body ached, your throat hurt, and your headache was only making it worse. Dammit, you caught a cold, probably. And that’s when it was finally the day to meet Steve, the guy you thought was a mastermind behind all these manipulations that were making you sick to the core. 

Anyway, it’s not like a mere cold would prevent you from doing everything you had planned. You left your bed and went to the bathroom, moving the dresser before again. 

Honestly, it felt terrible. It was definitely because of that flimsy dress you wore to school yesterday when the weather was becoming chilly. Argh. Watching your puffy eyes and swollen nose, you sneezed. Today you had to apply way more makeup to look decently.

Steve showed up earlier than either Thor or Peter: you had to skip your breakfast, hoping to buy something cheap in the cafeteria.

“Good morning.” He said with his everyday polite expression that soon shifted into a concerned one. “Are you alright?”

What, was it that bad? You did your absolute best to apply enough makeup and do your hair. Did you still look so sick?

“Good morning. Yes, I’m ok, just feeling a little sleepy.” You yawned on purpose, covering your mouth with your hand, and Steve’s face softened.

“Did you study all night?”

“Yep, exams are driving me a little crazy.”

“I understand. I also stayed late last night.”

Of course, the student council president studying all days long to be number one student in the academy. If you didn’t know of his twisted nature, you’d think he was the most typical nerd.

You spent most of the time either in silence or talking about studies, the academy, and everything related to it. Steve acted like a gentleman and a scholar, albeit a little too demonstratively. Walking with you as if he were a king of the place, he constantly replied to greetings of others, waved to his acquaintances and smiled. You felt so off you wanted to find Loki and walk with him: unlike Steve, he was considered unpleasant by the prevailing majority of students.

“Are you sure you’re going to be alright?” America golden boy asked you for the last time, and you forced yourself to smile.

“Of course. Thanks for coming, see you later, Steve.”

As he finally left you in peace, you almost fell down into your chair, your fever only getting worse despite the fact you took some painkillers. It was going to be a long day.

_________

Tags: @finleyjayne @alexakeyloveloki   ​@helenaeisenhower @villanellevi @hurricanerin ​@inlovewiththefictionalcharacters @chris-evans-indian-fanfic @navegandoaciegas @rosalynshields @brattycherub @sllooney @angrythingstarlight @lookiamtrying @buckysbunny @stargazingfangirl18 @dillybuggg @literate-lamb @cosicas-cuquis @sarge-barnes-sir @buckybarnesplumwhore @jaysayey @megzdoodle @gotnofucks @lux-ravenwolf @ximebebx @jeremyrennerfanxxxx123 @sourpatchspinster @biiskuitx @stupendouslovegardener @iheartsebandchris @lovelydarkdaydream @soleil-dor @illyrianprincess @vampirestrawberries @goodgodimaweirdperson @frontmanash @freya-heya @yandematic @mariatietacapitu @d3monslust @maybesandohnos @ibeatuptwinks @mangobangi @nectav @whatever-happened-to-the-ducks

[laurensprentiss]

Jouska [Hotch x Reader]

Chapter 19:

A/N: Here it is besties, v sorry for this but I live to cause chaos!! They both have some growing and living to do over the next chapters which will span around ten years. Stick around it’s gonna be interesting! Also Hotch looks rlly good here hehe

Warnings: None, really. Swearing, mentions of pregnancy, heavy angst.

———

“I'm scared I'm going to spend the rest of my life in a state of yearning, regardless of where I am.” - Melina Marchetta

———

08:00

It happens slowly then all at once. He knows he feels lighter, physically, before he’s fully conscious - can’t feel the warm weight of you on top of him. He frowns as he slowly awakens fully, feeling for your body next to him.

When all he feels are sheets, he comes to, a little quicker, opening one eye to look around. When he doesn’t see you, he figures you left to go to the bathroom but a piece of paper on your pillow catches his eye.

He frowns as he sits up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes when the doorbell begins to ring incessantly. He looks between the door, the paper and then the door again, tucking the note underneath his pillow to come back to later. He takes a cursory look at the clock -

08:00

He runs downstairs with a grin, thinking maybe you went out to grab coffee and forgot you didn’t have a key, but when he opens the door, icy shock runs through his veins.

“Hi, Aaron.”

“Haley?” He replies stunned. He glances behind him, increasingly alarmed now as to your whereabouts.

She averts her gaze from Hotch’s half naked form, it’s nothing she hasn't seen before but there’s a barrier between them now. Even with what she’s about to tell him.

“Can we talk?”

“-This…. isn’t really a good time.” He replies, glancing behind him again. He uses his body to block what lies behind him, clothing littering the floor as evidence of last night. His cheeks run hot when he realises Haley already spotted it all.

“We need to talk. I wouldn’t have shown up like this, but she told me to come by at 8. Said I should talk to you.”

He frowns. “Who?” He asks, despite hazarding a very good guess he already knows the answer.

“Look, can I just come in? I'm really cold and this is incredibly awkward.”

He sighs, “Yeah- yeah come in.” He steps aside to let her in, picks his shirt up off the floor and begins to button it as he invites her to sit.

Haley tells him that she managed to track you down outside your apartment yesterday. His jaw ticks and he runs his thumb over his bottom lip, agitated. “Why would you do that?”

“I figured I owed her an apology. Ultimately I was the one who put her in danger with-” She licks her lips. “With him. I thought we should talk.”

“So you resorted to stalking?” He paces. He can’t figure out why you’d ask her to come by now, especially if you were going to spend the night last night.

“I know, I’m sorry.” She looks sick. “I kind of knew that you felt something for her, and I figured she probably did too. Clearly I was right.”

“I’m not doing this with you.”

She throws her hands up. “No! No, that's not what I meant. I need to tell you something but before I did, I needed to tell her, I owed her some courtesy after everything at least.”

He tilts his head and his eyes narrow. “Get to the point.”

She pulls out an envelope and slides it across the coffee table. She breathes shakily, nodding at it. “It’s all in there.”

He watches her quizzically, confused at her demeanour - she’s never been one to be at a loss for words. He takes a seat opposite, studying her as he peels open the envelope.

A sliver of cold panic works its way through his veins as he scans the page.

LABCORP DNA TESTING SERVICES

Sample 1 - BROOKS/HOTCHNER : Positive Match

Sample 2 - BROOKS/HOTCHNER : Positive Match

“What the hell is this?” He asks, his voice barely above a whisper.

She swallows thickly, abetting her gaze. “It’s a paternity test. I’m pregnant.” She tells him quietly.

His chest tightens and his head starts swimming. “What? I don’t believe you.”

“It’s right there on the paper. It’s yours.” She looks like she’s holding back vomit, the colour on her face drained. She studies Aaron for any kind of a reaction but he still looks confused.

“I want another one.” He tells her waving the paper. “How far along are you?”

“3 and a half months.”

“Wait,” He winces as the cold realisation hits him. “You told her?”

She nods.

The colour drains from his face and he shoots up from his seat, remembering everything he’d told you yesterday about how he would do things differently if he ever became a father. Knowing now what you knew then, he can’t begin to fathom what must have been going through your mind yesterday.

He shoots up the stairs three at a time, hoping he’s not too late.

———

06:00

Your eyes burn with the lack of sleep and the aftermath of your breakdown. You lay still against Aaron’s chest, your hand splayed flat against his skin. You’ve been watching him sleep for most of the night, memorising all you can about him, and imagining an alternate future where you could’ve ended up together.

But it doesn’t help. All it goes is drive a stake deeper into your heart because no matter how much you imagine, it doesn’t change your future. The sun begins to rise sure enough, a promise of another day but the lighter it gets, the more your stomach turns and the tighter your chest gets.

You pull Aaron in closer one more time, fusing your body to his and you close your eyes. His hands run down your bag gently as he stirs in his sleep. You take a minute to take him in one last time, despite your aching heart you try to hold onto the happiness you’d felt before it all came crashing down.

You doubt you’ll feel for anyone the way you feel for him. But you can’t be selfish, not now. You whisper to him, barely audible, the words you need to get off your chest and with a gentle kiss to his sleeping face, you slink out of his arms.

You gather your clothes, and from the credenza drawer downstairs, grab a pen and paper.

‘Dearest Aaron…’

Tears stain your face as you initial the bottom of the letter and with a final breath, you fold it and scrawl his initials on top. You reluctantly walk back upstairs and when you see Aaron’s peaceful face in a deep sleep, it takes everything in you to walk away. You place the note on your pillow, and turn away before you change your mind.

But as you approach the door, you turn to take one last look at him, willing your memory to hold on to this image, to the feel of him. To what it feels like to be loved by him.

“Goodbye Aaron.” You whisper.

———

08:30hrs:

He struggles to get his pants on, throwing on odd socks and grabbing the note on the pillow which he stuffs haphazardly into his three day old jacket. He runs down the stairs three at a time, passing Haley on the way as he grabs his keys.

She looks at him with panic and confusion. “Go back to the hotel, I’ll call you!” He tells her. She looks around, stunned as the door slams shut behind him.

He fumbles with his phone, dialling your number, but it goes straight to voicemail. He tries Emily but it goes to voicemail too. He dials the direct line to your assistant and on the last ring, she picks up.

“Agent Hotchner?”

“Leah?”

“Yeah? Is everything okay?”

He desperately asks if she has any idea of where you are today, if you have anything on your docket.

“Not that I can see, no. Is everything okay?”

“Look, can you find out if she’s home and call me?” He hangs up and purposely turns on the sirens to weave through traffic to your place. In a cruel twist of fate, he curses the numerous traffic logs he encounters on his way, thinking he’ll deal with the fallout of using his lights without reason later.

He finally turns onto your street, tires screeching as he pulls up behind a blacked out towncar, into which an older gentleman appears to be hauling suitcases. He doesn’t bother closing the door as he exits his SUV, his eyes trailing on the suitcases being piled into the trunk of the towncar when he hears your voice.

He stops in his tracks.

“Alright, James. I think that’s the last of the b-”

The air leaves your lungs when you catch sight of him. There’s a brief moment when you think you think you’re imagining him but your chest squeezes when you look at his face, halfway between confused, devastated and just plain betrayed.

He utters your name with a shaky whisper. “What is this? What’s going on?” He asks unsteady, already knowing the answer.

You hand your bags to James who ducks between you to receive them, the tension thick and heavy. “I’m sorry, I planned on…” You struggle for the words. “Being done earlier than this. This is what I wanted to avoid.”

He retreats, eyebrows shooting up. “This, what? You wanted to avoid saying goodbye to me? You couldn’t even extend me the grace of telling me you were leaving?” He pulls out your note from his pocket, shaking it in front of you. “You left this and thought it would be enough? After everything that happened with us.”

“Come on, Aaron. You know that’s not what I meant. But you know why I’m leaving, it’s why you’re here. And I knew you would do this, I knew you’d try and talk me out of going. That’s why I didn’t tell you.” You swallow the lump in your throat.

The desperation inside him starts to claw at him. “You don’t have to leave. We’re adults, we can figure this out.” He takes both of your hands tightly in his.

You shake your head. “I won’t put you in that position, I know how important this is to you. I won’t put myself in that position either.” He opens his mouth to oppose you but he knows as well as you do that this is the end. “I can’t believe I’m going to say this but this was easier when I had a stalker, all I had to worry about was making it through the day without being murdered. But things are real now, you have a career and a family to worry about, I have to go to college. I guess we just didn’t think this through.”

He retreats slightly, a hurt expression on his face. “That doesn’t mean it was wrong.” He says, quietly. “I told you I’d wanted to be with you for a long time, and I meant it. I don’t regret any of it.”

You cup his cheek. “Neither do I. But we both know what needs to happen. I can’t stay.”

He caresses your hand on his cheek with bereft eyes. “You changed me, you know?”

You laugh dryly. “With your gig at the BAU? Forget it, you’ll be saving people left and right.”

“You know that’s not what I meant.” His voice cracks. “I’m just sorry we couldn’t have more time. I think this could have been something.”

“Did you read the note?” He shakes his head. “Wait until I’m gone to read it - you don’t have to. But if you ever find yourself doubting or second-guessing who you were to me - who you are to me? You should read that. It has everything you’ll need to know.”

He brings his forehead to yours, glassy eyes watching you with so much affection you think you might just break. “Can we stay here? Just for a minute? I’m not ready to let you go yet.” He asks.

You nod and loop your arms around his neck, tiptoeing to reach his height. He hugs you back with ferocity, face burying in the crook of your neck as he takes you in, memorises the way you body slots against his, how you smell and feel. He presses his eyes shut, willing his brain to commit every last feeling to memory, terrified that there may come a day when he no longer remembers how he loves you.

You muffle your sobs as best as you can, clutching at the material of his shirt, and the small tufts of hair at the nape of his neck. Try as you might, when you close your eyes, all you can see is a reel of your relationship with Aaron, spanning from the moment you met to now.

All of it comes rushing back: the gazebo, your apartment, numerous late night coffees and dinners, his face in the cabin, the hospital and of course, the nights and days you spent in bed. The pond, the balcony, the laughter. The love. You feel a hole consuming your chest and you struggle to breathe, cursing yourself for falling in love with the one man you couldn’t possibly ever have.

James beeps from inside the towncar, and you reluctantly loosen your grip on Aaron, sniffling as you let him go. It feels infinitely harder to detangle yourself from him now, like tearing a bandage off of a raw wound, but you know you need to go.

And so does he.

His eyes are watery when you look at him, yours mirroring his heartbreak. “I guess this is it.” He rasps.

You clear your throat. “Yeah. I guess so.”

“Can I kiss you goodbye?”

You nod solemnly. His hands cup your cheeks lovingly, wiping away a stray tear. He leans in, and presses his lips to yours for the last time. He takes his time, allowing himself to linger in the moment, and convey everything he can in this kiss without having to say it. Wants to remember how soft your lips are and the way you taste.

Your tears fall steadily now, your own hands tangling in his hair. You selfishly wish you could stay here, throw away any and all integrity just to keep him for yourself. But you both have things to do, futures to live.

You break the kiss, forehead resting against his. His hand cradles the back of your head, and he presses a tender kiss to your forehead, lips lingering before he finally lets go.

You fish in your pocket and take his hand in yours, dropping your key into his palm. He looks at you quizzically. “Keep it, give it to the super, I don’t mind. But lock up for me?” You ask him.

He nods, closing his hand around yours, a desperate attempt to keep you close for a few more fleeting moments. He presses a desperate kiss laced with finality on your lips as you release yourself from his embrace.

Watching you reach for the car door sends him into a tailspin. You’re just about in the car when you hear him call your name. His voice is strained. “Listen, I just- before you go. There’s something I need to tell you.” His face is contorted with desperation and his voice laced with something utterly heartbroken.

You know where he’s going with this. You weren’t sure if he felt it until now, horrible fucking timing, but it’s still something.

“Don’t. I know what you’re going to say, Aaron. Please don’t.” You sob. “This is already one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do, please don’t make it harder. I know what you’re going to say. But before you do… just please don’t?” You plead.

He swallows thickly, choking back tears, too. “I do, though.”

You breathe through the hole in your chest. “I know, Aaron. I do, too.” Your smile is bitter as you open the car door and step inside gingerly, keeping your eyes on the sidewalk where he stands. He walks over to you, tangles your fingers with his briefly before cradling your chin, wiping another stray tear.

“Maybe in another life?” He whispers.

“Maybe in another life.” You tell him with a sad smile.

“Goodbye, sweetheart.”

I love you.

“Goodbye, Aaron.”

I love you.

He watches the car peel away longingly, muttering aloud the words that he’d whispered two nights ago when he thought you were asleep.

“I love you.”

———

09:15

Your car pulls up to the airstrip forty-five minutes later and you can hear the deafening engine of the plane before you even step out of the car. You place a $50 in the hand of the man who opens your door for you, throwing a quick thank you his way as you obscure your puffy eyes with a pair of sunglasses.

You offer the men loading your luggage a small smile and hand them their tips, before boarding the plane. You spot Emily on the far left side of the plane, her face buried in a copy of Mother Night.

When she sees you, she shoots up from her seat, throwing her book onto the table in front of her. “Oh my God! You came! Hi!” Her good arm wraps around your neck for a hug and you stiffen against her. “What made you change your mind?” She asks.

You close your mouth just as soon as you open it when the curtain dividers open.

“Darling!” Ambassador Prentiss emerges from her office, behind a divider on the plane. She has a phone receiver against her chest, you assume to muffle her voice to whoever is on the other end. “Emmy and I are so glad you decided to join us, we’ll be taking off in around 15 minutes.” She tells you, glancing at her watch.

You shoot her a polite smile and thank her, and she looks between you and Emily, excusing herself back to her office.

“I’ll let you girls catch up.���

Emily leads you to the seat opposite her, her face now showing signs of concern. She watches your face for an answer but when nothing comes, she asks outright.

“What happened? I thought you were going to stick around and see what happens? You had a date right? Her words scratch your skin.

“Date’s off.” You swallow.

Her eyes widen. “What? Why?!”

“His ex is pregnant and it’s his.” You reply nonchalantly, rapidly blinking back tears behind your sunglasses.

Her mouth drops open. “Holy shit! Are you okay?”

“I’ll be fine.” You reply, gazing out of the window.

Emily watches you in shock, unsure of what to say. She can tell by your demeanour that you’re in shock but she can’t do anything except hold your hand and tell you she’s sorry with a quiet voice.

“Yeah.” You sigh.

———

09:00

When he keys open your apartment door, he’s hit with an eerie silence, a heart wrenching emptiness. He attempts to turn a lamp on but the electricity has been turned off, leaving the living room cold and dark.

His mind fills in the spaces between the emptiness, picturing you sitting on your couch, or on the bar stools around your island. Can hear the incessantly loud TV, and your laughter from your room.

Your room is just as empty too, a few stray clothes hangers remain in the wardrobes and when he turns to look out at your balcony, he swears he sees your shadow outside. He makes sure the doors and windows are secure and makes his way back to your living room, the entire experience harrowing, like walking through a graveyard of memories.

His legs give out as he walks back to the living room, sinking onto the couch. A picture of you catches his eye on the side table next to him, the same one he’d caressed gently when you’d been taken by Jordan. He’d thought then, that was the worst moment of his life, had he known what was to come, he’d have reserved his judgement.

He swallows the lump in his throat as he gently brushes a finger over the glass, unable to keep the tears from coming now. He wishes with everything you could have stayed, can feel it deep within him that you’ll keep a part of his heart for years to come. Then he remembers the note.

He opens the folded paper with trembling hands.

‘Dearest Aaron,

I sit in your living room right now, struggling for the words to write but I can’t seem to come up with anything that truly encapsulates how I feel. How I’m incredibly sorry to have to leave like this, how I wish with everything in me that I didn’t have to, I wish this could have ended differently.

I want to say thank you. You may not know or understand this, but for all the good and bad, you truly changed my life. I met you during the darkest and scariest part of my life, when I had nobody - when I was all alone. And in you came like a light and protected me fiercely, taught me everything I needed to save my life. You did that.

You saved me.

You changed me.

Despite the circumstances, we did have something, a friendship, maybe the start of something more - something real. Don’t ever doubt that. The last two days were two of the best of my life, a fitting reward, I thought, after everything I’d been through. But I couldn’t let you talk me into staying, because I know you, and you would have tried, told me that we could’ve worked something out - and it would’ve been selfish of me to stay.

I want you to know that I am so incredibly happy for you. This wasn't an easy decision, but I’m leaving of my own choice. I have no doubt in my mind that you’ll be an amazing father. That child will be loved and oh so lucky to have you and your warmth as a father. I know how much this means to you, how important it is for you to give your child a better life than the one you and Sean had.

And you will.

Thank you for everything you did for me, thank you for saving me over and over again. Thank you for teaching me to be brave, and for coming into my life. My hope for you is that you’ll build a wonderful life with your beautiful little family and achieve everything you’ve ever wanted and more.

You’ll change the world one day.

Know that I will always have a special place for you in my heart.

I’ll never forget you.

All my love.’

He swallows the burning in his chest. Two days were all he had with you and he stupidly saw himself able to imagine a future with you, could imagine loving you for the rest of his life - but then he’d been in love with you long before you’d asked him to stay.

He winces as something digs into his chest and he reaches for his inside jacket pocket until something cold makes contact with his fingers.

His heart stops, molten lava running through his veins.

Your necklace.

He grips it until the sharp edges of the pendant feel like they’re about to puncture his skin.

Maybe he wasn’t destined for peace, for love. The love that he wanted. Maybe a happy ending wasn’t written for him and he���d have to make peace with that. At least he had the memory of your face burnt into his brain, the smell of your hair, the sound of your laughter.

That finite part of you would get him through eternity.

———

20:00

You’ve rejected every meal you’ve been offered by the staff aboard the plane, instead choosing to down Emily’s bottle of red wine. It eases the heaviness in your head, that’s true but the ache in your chest still remains.

Emily’s since drifted off to sleep, her book laying open against her stomach, meal half-eaten. You stare at the blinking lights of the plane and the clouds below you until everything starts to blur.

You love him. He loves you. That much is true. You never had believed in the concept of the right person but the wrong time, how could you? If the person was right, the timing would surely be inconsequential.

That was until you met Aaron.

In this life, in the grey harsh reality, after everything you had been through with him, the simple fact that two people love one another pales in comparison to the bloody reality of commitments, matters of the mind and sacrifice.

He loves you and you love him. It just isn’t enough.

He aches for you and you ache for him. But it’s still just out of reach.

Your hearts aren’t your own anymore. But you have to go on anyway.

———

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[makiema]

finally finished writing about how much stormbringer enhances the skk dynamic which was at a nascent stage in Fifteen and anticipates the developments which happen later and culminate in Dead Apple where the faith they have in each other is absolutely remarkable! the fact that i said i’d do this in a few hours yesterday but it took me like 24 hrs to finish i have an attention span of a whole 2 minutes 💀

my favorite thing about stormbringer is that it actually builds up on the concepts/themes introduced in Fifteen so it's a glimpse into what has changed in dazai and dazai & dhuuya after one year of being together. As much as it's about chuuya confronting his past and his identity this is also about dazai’s development from who he was in fifteen. chuuya and rimbaud both left their marks on dazai and in Stormbringer we see him, actually trying to emulate or follow in a sense a way of life, that chuuya and rimbaud represented. Stormbringer is not just about chuuya, abt his test of humanity, or he coming in terms with who or what he is. it's about dazai too. it's about dazai developing or at least attempting to develop what he calls “boyish”/ “ordinary” in Fifteen. its not about chuya having an identity crisis. in fact what we understand from Code 04's last section is that chuuya never considered it as his crisis and neither did dazai. so to dazai “saving chuuya is important, human or not doesn't matter” and when dazai gives chuuya time to think abt what the operation will cost him chuuya doesnt so much as flinch form his purpose. This goes on to show unlike verlaine he doesnt care about memory and certainly doesnt consider it as the only determinant of someone being human. He cares more abt yokohama and his friends and in that, in caring abt his “family”, he is just as human as the next person. whether he’s factually human or not comes secondary to his desire to save people. This is a message that the quality of being human has more to do with embodying human qualities or humanity than having memories and lineage. so yeah stormbringer is essentially about embracing humanity but this happens on 2 levels: both chuuya and dazai embrace humanity. Going back to the boyish or ordinary bit, im talking abt this segment:

here dazai is shocked because he assumed everyone “gangsta” and everyone crazy powerful delighted in homicide, in deliberately indulging in the macabre. but he is proved wrong. He logically concluded that anyone with power more than average and belonging to the underground would kill people and delight in that because it’s a given they lack any kind of moral understanding. To that end, they’d be exalted at the prospect of relentlessly shooting a dead body, mutilating it and dishonoring it. The mafia code (any general mafia code) works in a way where honor and death goes hand in hand. So only the lowest of the low would do that to a dying person, who even when faced with certain death is loyal to his own organisation. This really shows that even within the mafia dazai is the only person whos like the devil incarnate. So yeah dazai at this sate far lower than even a mafia member. But chuuya who actually embodiess the mafia code and is incredibly loyal to his organisation and “family” [ putting family in quotes bc he himself calls his friends family 🥺] ofc kicks the gun away. From dazai’s pov chuuya being as insanely powerful as he is should also do the same. But chuuya comes along and suggests that even enemies should be shown respect where it’s due. And that is what an ordinary person, oblivious to mafia life (mafia life as in waht dazai makes of it) thinks. So in undermining the binary between “ordinary” and “mafia” chuuya proves that being mafia doesnt necessarily mean selling your soul to the devil and giving up the last smidge of humanity. In fact by embodying qualities like compassion and kindness and mutual respect, you can make the mafia a better place for yourself and for the other members. Now in Stormbringer, we see how this affected dazai. here dazai is introduced as someone mercilessly killing to set up the channel. 

Now to expand the channel one would need to keep doing it right? To mercilessly kill ppl and stuff but instead what he does is hand the channel over to chuuya bc he knows chuuya wouldnt handle it like him. im not suggesting that dazai miraculously becomes v good or anything with dazai the key words is “try” or “to some extent” like in Fifteen when Chuuya asks “do u wanna live” he’s like “ not to that extent”. similarly its not to say he doesnt kill people anymore. it is that he tries to lessen the number of casualties by handing over one of the most troublesome channels to chuuya who would manage it in a much more humane way. That dazai draws from his friends/at least tries to is smth we’ll see again later on when he deals with akutagawa. He talks about odasaku and ofc its baffling to him that a mafia member as powerful as him would be taking acre of orphans. and dazai says but he cant afford to be that kind and proceeds to shoot akutagswa but again does so in a calculated way such that he doesnt end up killing him ( im NOT justifying dazai’s abuse not at all im just saying that its hard to believe he coincidentally knew the exact no of bullets that aku could block. and had odasaku’s words and his way of life not been in the back of his mind he could’ve ended up killing aku) coming back to chuuya and dazai we also see him avoiding further conversation on the jewelry channel thing as he says “leave that for now”. He does a similar thing again when mori brings up the concept of double suiciding with chuuya.

 Its a HUGE thing for him to digest that him suiciding would inevitably spell the doom for chuuya. this puts an unimaginable responsibility on him. And he avoids further discussion on this. Now we know dazai is the rambly type. Even in the most dire moments he goe son with his LOONG monologues so really he is the last person who’d avoid a conversation but he deliberately does it in these 2 instances because its hard for him to grasp these things. That he can go against his nature and do a conscientious thing by handing over one of the most grisly channels to chuuya (i dont think dazai’s nature is evil. Or even if it is, its a a social construct keeping in mind the war ravaged times or its mori’s construct because he does exploit dazai to the hilt. but dazai ofc thinks of himself as non-human, devious. perfectly devilish...etc.) And also the fact that someone as suicidal as him is actually responsible for the life of someone else is really too much to take in. a whole 10 seconds pause indicates just how much he was thrown off when mori opened his eyes to the reality of things: if he dies, chuuya inexorably dies as a consequence. also i dont think the “wow” here or the next bit :

is something jokey. if it was like haha double suicide with chuuya is the worst haha wanna do it w pretty lady kind of a deal. that pause would have been unnecessary. dazai’s immediate reaction would’ve been whining and shit. the use of “froze” too implies the gravity of the situation. so ofc what is “wow” is how much meaning his life has for someone else. and for some so much....better than him. and what is unacceptable is this sad, sad truth that his life (to which he ascribes no value) would be so inextricably linked with someone else’s and hold so much meaning to them. it is like when a suicidal person at the brink of suicide understanding his life is not his own. his life and death holds consequences for ppl surrounding him. so both of these are huge things to grasp and at both these times dazai is visibly shaken up so much so that he doesnt want to do his favorite thing- ramble in a condescending tone. smth he does in so many instances. this really is a testimony to the fact that things are changing in him. the redemption process has begun. he’s no longer the kind of maniac he was before he encountered chuuya. when zuko underwent his transition in atla he was so shaken up after one (1) right decision he had a fever. i think this is true for anyone who’s trying to change. change is after all a huge thing for everyone. ofc he’ll be unsettled. so anyways this is proof that he has indeed come a long way from being someone who revelled at the prospect of meaningless bloodshed.

now coming to the concept of love he assumes he’d get sick of love and die:

and that death is the singular goal worth chasing after because it makes you feel more alive/get a fuller picture of what living entails. but here he is erring by supposing love is something that’ll bore him/have no meaning. and it cant provide him that “something” he’s looking for. at this point he hasn’t loved so he doesnt know whether he’ll be sick of it or if it'll have no impact. And yet he’s morose and regretful. this is a kind of self-imposed constraint hes putting on himself. he cancels out the v idea of love because hes convinced it isnt worth it. he hasnt even been in love okay scratch being in love that sounds romantic and i really dont mean love in a romantic sense here...its just love. in general. any form is cool. anyway so dazai is not familiar with any kind of love. He is entirely alien to the concept. he doesnt even know what a friend/partner is so he doesnt know what love is. this is cleared out here when rimbaud confesses he did everything for paul and dazai is unconvinced:

chuuya ofc admonishes him and shuts him up for good, he says dazai has no right lookind down upon smth he doesnt understand. he doesnt understand friendship, love. or loyalty. or how important those feelings are at this point. now this situation is turned on its head in stormbringer. but before we go into that let’s look at the message rimbaud had for both of them. ik he specifically asks for chuuya to “live” but there’s purpose behind including both of them in the frame. it’s a message they should both take to heart. and at the end of it its implied both are changed after hearing it:

and in this message the first bit is for chuuya. what he says is basically memory doesn’t make u human... ”you are you” just a frame or not doesnt matter. and even if hes just a frame, he is still beautiful. beauty actually is a v important concept in literature starting right from Plato to Shakespeare. i’d not bring this here but because bsd is so deeply rooted in literature i feel like the reference to beauty, and later on to soul and even warmth and also the universal tone of this message carries some meaning. so the thing is  both Plato and Shakespeare were endorsed the idea of love as a force awakened in the world by beauty which then leads the soul to perfection. so humans and by extension, all life are beautiful frames that can inspire love. this concept is also there in Romantic poetry like Keats and Wordsworth all of them talked about loving beauty in nature and how that can elevate the body mind and soul. so essentially in telling this to chuuya what ehe basically means is that chuuya just by being him, by being a beautiful framework can inspire love and warmth in others and thats a great purpose! how much chuuya understands of this purpose with his one (1) braincell and his low self esteem is questionable but he gets some sense of belonging. now this is a two way relationship so ofc dazai has to be factored in. he comes in the next part: 

these are from 2 different translation so the disparity im sorry ;-; but anyway,  this last part abt the world being a cold place. then paul. then “warmth” is a message to dazai who’s been introduced to us as cold-hearted and having like no bearings of a human being. this is the reason why its important for both o f them to be there. now going back to chuuya being a beautiful framework, the framework can be beautiful in so far as its beauty is appreciate by someone and inspires warmth and love in someone. this again is the whole beauty/beholder nature/the romantic concept that is there in shakespeare and in Romantic poetry where both are a part of a codependent relationship. so what rimbaud implies here is that dazai can have that kind of a relationship with another person (chuuya) just like rimbaud had with paul which makes him warm and the world doesnt feel cold anymore. rimbaud has no regrets about what he did because. so the idea is that dazai and chuuya can share the same dynamic. also after this, the narrative says that their hearts are now changed and wont return to what they were before....and even their souls are refined in a way. but in Fifteen we dont have a concrete proof of how this happened bc the novel ends at this point. Instead, Stormbringer shows exactly how deep the impact of those words is: 

this is the third instance of dazai showing hesitation and once again this has to do with chuuya. the seed of the dynamic that rimbaud was talking about  is already germinating in him. his reactions, his fidgeting, his hesitancy, in response to chuuya’s situation is such a big contrast to his cocksure self when he’s conversing with adam and verlaine. after this of course we have: 

not only does he clearly express his concern but he gives chuuya 2 whole mins to make a decision and based on that he’s prepared to overturn the operation. the success rate of an alternative plan will ofc be lesser than the og one but that doesnt faze dazai. he’s ready to turn the tide for chuuya’s sake and if this is not development idk what is. just a year ago, he was someone to whom the concept of rimbaud going thru all that trouble for his friend was a lost concept. ironically enough, now he finds himself doing something that is along the same lines. he puts chuuya above his mission. to him, chuuya is more important than getting a satisfactory result. another bit that i wanna talk abt is that one controversial section where dazai says he’ll save chuuya, human or not, and then the justification is: 

i think a lot of people got mad bc of this and honestly at first glance i was peeved too. as a chuuya stan some of the shit dazai has done so far did rub me the wrong way. i love skk obv but still those were moments that kind of left a bad taste in the mouth. i’ll discuss them later on bc stormbringer helps allay that feeling. coming back to the “i wanna see chuuya suffer” part firstly context is important. ofc someone like dazai cant be expected to be upfront about his feelings with ppl (or AI) he barely knows. so what be relays to adam, is only partly true and its actually a kind of a twist in concept. the things is, and this is  smth dazai knows all too well is that ppl suffer simply on account of being human. human suffering is brought on because humans, by virtue of being humans, feel. so when he says he’s willing to acknowledge chuuya as human despite what N and Verlaine said he’s already admitting that chuuya suffers. so there is really nothing “new” to see for him. he knows chuuya suffers already and he does too because they’re both humans trying to make it thru their messed up lives. also chuuya “ceasing to be human” is a p huge concern for him bc he himself is like that. just like with the suicide thing, it bothers dazai when someone else shares his situation/his fate like as long as his life is his own, he has no problem ending it whenever but the situation is complicated when someone else’s life span is determined by that decision. and similarly, as long as he is “no longer human” its not that much of an issue because he’s like resigned to a doomed fate but someone like chuuya ceasing to be human or worse yet never getting to know if hes human or not are pressing matters. so anyways what he actually means here is that in saving chuuya, he saves someone who suffers just like he does and in their case, even the cause of suffering boils down to a shared psychological conflict: what essentially constitutes being human and if im human or not. now this sharing of pain and suffering is the foundation of forming a connection with someone, which makes life a little better. here again, what rimaud imparted to dazai and chuuya is driven home. also dazai’s key anxiety is not finding meaning/anything. this “anything” can be assumed to be something that justifies life. so all his anxiety and frustration stems from the fact that there really is no discernible meaning to be found in the mechanism of life. so it is an empty pursuit because it is true that nothing can explain why feelings of pain and suffering are exponentially heavier than feelings of happiness or why after getting to experience one (1) free day we’re back to square one where life is grueling. these are questions that really dont have an answer so every time dazai like gazes into the abyss and says he didnt  find anything, he is not so much asking if he’ll ever find anything as swallowing the hard truth that there is nothing to be found, no singular entity exists that can magically justify everything. again drawing upon literature or philosophy more specifically, there’s a concept called Absurdism which says the only philosophical truth so to say is this that life is absurd and looking for meaning is futile. instead what we can do is accept that it is absurd and deal with it in the best way possible, by finding little sources and moments of happiness, and strewing them together so we feel somewhat content. even if it is just for a fleeting second. and this happiness/contentment amidst a wretched life (altho temporal) can be found in friendship, in sharing, and even in having fun with people you’re comfortable with! this is actually why dazai wants to save chuuya and now it may seem like im interpreting his words through the shipping lens but thats not so and it can be corroborated by looking into dazai’s words to odasaku. after chuuya, dazai’s next attempt at friendship was odasaku who he found “interesting”. now when odasaku sort of like threw hands and chose death over having to live a life without the orphans, dazai tried to stop him not by saying stuff like life is good. and things will def change for the better. but instead he admits that living is hard and the sense of void is ubiquitous and yet he doesnt want him to  up and die because then he would be sad. because the little comfort that he got from odasaku and something he probably assumed odasaku also got from him would be gone. [how much odasaku considered dazai a source of comfort remains unclear. in fact the reason odasaku gave up and died was because he did not have this. this feeling of sharing in someone else’s suffering and seeking comfort in friends in the real world. instead he was too vested in his ideal world. his over reliance on an entirely idealistic concept is actually what pushed him over the edge. and this would have been the case for dazai too had he not encountered and sought comfort and companionship in chuuya and eventually in odasaku ] so this again goes on to show how rimbaud’s words changed dazai’s heart. and in a way dazai really has been doing this unconsciously form the v beginning like by teasing chuuya continually in Fifteen. you dont expect someone as cold as him to indulge in friendly bickering and taunting so often but he does. that there is significance and even happiness in that is something he learns over time, after rimbaud’s words to him. although these things seem futile on the surface they give a moment’s respite. so although chuuya spinning dazai on a rope in stormbringer might seem weird to everyone, they still serve a purpose:  

what shirase puts forward is particularly relevant here because neither dazai nor chuuya is fully aware of the extent of their feelings (or even what those feelings are like they dont know what label to put. so typical oblivious lovers) for each other or what they stand to gain just by driving each other nuts but there is something intangible but satisfying to be felt. a kind of contentment that helps him continue. one day at a time. there is no one great “thing” that can make him like wake up one day feeling like he doesnt want to die ever again. but again like i said before, the key word for dazai is “extent” so, these little things to some extent contribute to a sense of fulfilment which helps him keep death at bay. thats why he’s bent on saving chuuya bc he knows they can share in their suffering and make life better for each other. its not like he wants chuuya to suffer. chuuya will suffer nonetheless like every other human. but in suffering together there is something to be found so he doesnt want him to cease being human. 

this covers more or less the intertextuality between Stormbringer and Fifteen. i just wanna talk a bit more about a couple other moments in Stormbringer that i feel are p important because they put some things in the series in perspective and also made the dead apple moment 10x more emotional 🥺 one thing that really strikes me is the absolute fanon level of comfort that dazai and chuuya share in Strombringer. its like scenes form k-drama lol. 

so yeah this stuff. compare this with dazai’s reaction @atsushi when he drops im not saying that its not just a joke and that what im saying should be the right way to look at this contrast. its not like that at all. but what this does is give an estimate to the readers just how close and comfortable dazai feels when its chuuya. and this plus everything i rambling on abt for so long also gives us an estimate about the sincerity of dazais feelings. now 2 things always bothered me : the fact that dazai actually left chuuya and the fact that after the fight against lovecraft he actualy deserted him (this again can ofc be construed as just a humorous bit but still it did leave a bad taste in my mouth) dazai leaving the mafia is ofc something he had to do to fulfil oda’s dying wish but it still dint sit right with me that he would abandon chuuya. just like oda levaing is harder on dazai, dazai leaving is harder on chuuya. its always harder on the one left behind. so anyway, these sorts of things sometimes made me doubt dazai’s feelings but now that stormbringer clears it all up i do think there is a larger motif at work here. when mori offers dazai to come back to the mafia in s2 we see him saying that it was mori who kicked him out and that he did so because he was afraid dazai would usurp his position. so he set it up in a way that dazai would be forced to leave but on his own accord. now more than usurpation i believe what mori really did fear is that dazai had no allegiance to the mafia (which is actually true) bc he doesnt have that sense of loyalty and that to him his friends were more important than swearing allegiance to mori. (which again is true). so by getting oda killed, the message that mori seemed to be giving out was if dazai didnt leave he would do it again. and if we consider ango’s betrayal which had already transpired at that point, the one mori would next target to sort of get at dazai would inevitably be chuuya. this is only conjecture but still, i do believe this might as well be true because then it would explain why dazai didnt carry chuuya back to the base after their fight [something he was v comfortable doing in Stormbringer. in fact in the first case he carries chuuya back to the billiards bar and not to the mafia’s base so he could hear albatross’ last words 🥺] its because mori needs to know unlike dazai, chuuya is absolutely loyal to him which regrettably he is. it kinda becomes imperative therefore on part of dazai to make it seem that way to mori. that they really are at each others throats and that dazai is insignificant to chuuya. and that the mafia comes before dazai. (which is not true bc we see chuuya protecting his friend [shirase] while also staying loyal to the mafia in Stormbringer) 

mori also in his own way tries to provoke hostility b/w them like in Dead Dpple when he was all like yeah so dazai is the star and chuuya is merely bait. so it kinda makes sense if dazai left the mafia not only to like do good work but also to protect chuuya from mori. also the fact that chuuya did the same thing— left the Sheep and joined PM to protect Shirase from the mafia makes be believe that my speculation is plausible given all the parallels we find between dazai and chuuya. 

and the last bit is about the brilliant Dead Apple scene and how much added context it gets in light of Stormbringer. 

in this scene dazai first says: “you used Corruption believing in me?” and then the translation is “how beautiful” which is an okay translation but the exact thing dazai said was “nakasetekurerune” which literally is : youre gonna make me cry you know? now my knowledge of japanese is like duolingo level but i do know “nakasete” has to do with crying and “kureru” is used by the receiver to indicate he’s receiving a feeling/object from someone close. so basically chuuya trusting him is something so beautiful that it could almost move him to tears. now lets look at dazai’s intro in Stormbringer:

dazai, being dazai, ofc would be able to tell genuine trust from fealty out of fear so ofc the fact that chuuya has this kind of blind faith in him is overwhelming for him. also stormbringer really expands on the sight effects of Corruption in full detail. its so PAINFUL and to think that chuuya would jump into it right away for dazai’s sake.....no wonder he is so soft when deactivating him. and then he proceeds to flirt for a little bit with the Snow White and the kiss of life reference. but this flirting doesnt seem even a little out of place now. it doesn't feel like smth meaningless or smth that dazai is just saying as a joke. that there is absoluetly no subtext to making a statement like that. instead that kind of flirting feels like smth inspired from a deep, deep familiarity with someone who really shares his heart and soul. when he talks to chuuya abt the problem of not knowing whether he is human or not, it is a problem that is as central to him as it’s to chuuya. not feeling fully reconciled to a human identity is a problem thats fundamental to both of them. I don’t think familiarity gets any deeper than this where you share the exact same psychological problem. so its really wonderful how we can trace the skk development now: what starts out as a crush on part of dazai or not a crush exactly rather, a feeling of perplexed admiration because chuuya is breathtakingly beautiful inside out, eventually gain all these layers and develops into something meaningful where they have so much faith in each other and where they literally help each other live. knowing someone out there shares your exact issue so you’re really not alone in this is perhaps the greatest comfort in the world. also now its clear how both of them would have turned out had they not met each other and had they not taken in rimbaud’s advice. chuuya in his desire to learn about himself and frustration at not being able to do the same would have perhaps spiralled downward and ended up becoming like verlaine. he is his double here after all. and had dazai not seen chuuya up close being the wonderful person he is, he too would have probably ended up developing a god complex and becoming like fyodor. dazai is there to save chuuya literally from dying a monster and chuuya is there to remind him he too can try and mend his ways and embrace his human side. after all chuuya has so much trust him in! (despite him having questionable methods) for both of them, it starts out as an attempt to be more human, then establishing a fruitful partnership, and finally coming in terms with their feelings to some extent. for dazai, he’s comfortable enough to engage in occasional flirting at this point and for chuuya it’s playing along with dazai’s antics (well with the ones he get 💀 pretty boy has half a functional braincell) and openly showing his concern for him. so really by confirming their feelings what strombringer does is enhance the skk development in a way that Dead Apple doesnt seem like fan service anymore. the fact that dazai would casually flirt or be comfortable with chuuya landing on his crotch 💀 all that isnt as ridiculous as it first seemed because stormbringer lays the groundwork and anticipates all the intimate/flirty skk moments that have happened till now and ig will happen again soon. 

[caiuscassiuss]

oppa! | ot7 (prologue)

Description: Being raised by a caring yet distant father, a close, tight-knit family is the one thing you have craved in your short life. After your adventurer father remarries a rich woman, you’re stuck with seven new brothers. Seven very hot, very different men. 

This is not what you meant by family.

(Based on the anime and game Brother’s Conflict, but with a twist.)

Prologue

Genre: Fluff | romance | later angst and smut. PG

WC: 2k

Warnings: For this chapter, none other than cursing.

(After some readers wanted me to post Oppa! on Tumblr, I have delivered! I really hope y’all like this haha)

[ The prologue delivers hints on who each brother will be. These hints will be bolded. Some will be very apparent, some will not. ]

Rubbing your head, your eyes glazed over the notes you took from yesterday’s lecture in preparation for today. Were you on drugs when you wrote these? It looked like chicken scratch. Was that drool in the corner?

Your ears perked up at the strains of loud music coming out of your friend’s Airpods. Hyerim, your closest friend at University, seemed oblivious as she bopped her head to the hard beat. Several classmates around the lecture hall noticed too, yet weren’t as accommodating as you and sent judgemental looks towards Hyerim.

“Hyerim,” you whispered, aware that class was starting in a few minutes. She didn’t respond, still nodding along to the music.

Pursing your lips, you plucked the small pod out of her ear. “Hyerim, your music—”

She gasped, eyes lighting up in excitement. “You liked it? Okay, so I was listening to this random rapper on SoundCloud—”

“Your music's too loud —” you hissed.

“—but the real feature is the producer, who made this beat. His name is Yoongi—” Hyerim continued on obviously, caught up in her own world.

“—that’s lovely, but can you turn your music down—” you pestered, looking around worriedly.

“—but his producer name is Gloss and he’s so talented and hot and his voice —”

Seeing the majority of the seats in the hall being filled up, you clamped your palm over her lips. She let out a whimper, finely shaped brows frowning at you.

“Have you not noticed the five separate glares you are currently getting at this moment?” you said between gritted teeth, enunciating each constant hard. You stared down each person around you who was giving Hyerim looks and, embarrassed, they averted their eyes and busied themselves with something.

“Oh wait, what?” Hyerim exclaimed. Closing a fist over her AirPod, the music continued and her eyes widened as she realized how high she had turned up the volume.

Hyerim turned to the person on her other side. “I am so sorry,” she said apologetically, the random student smiling awkwardly in acceptance.

Rolling your eyes with an unbidden smile poking at the edge of your lips, you turned back to the disaster of your notes. How were you supposed to understand this lecture when you barely wrapped your head around the last one? However, you honed in on your Calculus woes to ignore how your phone burned in your pocket and the latest text you got from your father...

So focused on your lamentation, you didn’t notice the boy behind you clear his throat. Nor did you notice the second or third time he did, each one getting progressively louder. As you attempted to retrace the argument on your paper, you felt a tap on your shoulder.

“Excuse me?”

Whipping your head around, you craned your neck upwards to see where the tap had come from. To your surprise, you saw a very cute-looking boy, bangs pulled into a top knot, smiling apologetically at you from behind you.

“Hi! Yeah, do you need anything?” you smiled.

A blush rose on his chiseled cheekbones and he rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m super sorry to bother you about this, but I dropped my charger right next to your chair. I- uh, would you mind—?”

“Of course! No worries, it happens,” you comforted, bending down to get the coiled white wire from where your bag sat. “Here you go.”

He got up from his seat to hunch over the lecture hall desk to meet you in the middle. You eyed the large difference between each of your hands’ as you handed back the charger, as well as how huge his shoulders seemed up close.

“T-Thanks, I really appreciate it.”

“No problem,” you replied, turning around to open your laptop.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Hyerim’s mouth partially open in disbelief.

“You need something?” you prodded.

“I—” she took a glance at the boy behind you, as if confirming something— “I’ll tell you later.”

Shrugging, you zeroed in at the lecturer at the front of the hall.

“Alright, so what was that about?”

Your Calculus lecture had just ended, and the two of you were in the mob of students leaving the lecture halls to get to lunch.

Hyerim looked surreptitiously around, black bangs swishing around her face. She leaned in like she was about to share the juiciest piece of gossip, and you unconsciously did so too.

“Did you know who that is?” she asked, her voice a whisper.

You felt your forehead crease and you gave her a look. “No, I did not.”

“Really?!” Hyerim pitched her voice high in disbelief.

You gave her a dry look.

It was her turn to roll her eyes. “Sometimes, I swear you’re in your own world, Y/N.”

Incredulous, you opened your mouth to argue but she waved a hand in front of you.

“That was Jeon Jungkook, Y/N! How do you not know him?”

“Oh yeah,” you snapped your fingers. “He’s that Streamer dude, right? He games and shit.”

Hyerim nodded slowly.

However, you frowned. “I heard he was intimidating and cold and stuff. Are you sure that was him? Charger boy was super nice.”

“That’s the point! It was Jung Jungkook and I have never seen him acting this soft. What did you do, ma’am? Snap him? Flash him?”

“Who do you think I am?” you sputtered. “All I was doing was thinking about how much I hated Calculus, not— not seducing someone!”

Your friend gave you a suspicious look, but decided to let go of the topic. Shaking your head, you walked past the gates of Yonsei university and into the city proper on the lookout for your favorite food place. The beeping of horns, buzzing chatter, and the small of smog filled the air as you zig-zagged between side streets to avoid busy roads.

“Excuse me,” you muttered as you pushed your way through a mob of women all entranced by something above you. Since they were not moving, you huffed and decided to see what was worth all the hype.

It was a huge, flashing LED billboard that was the central focus of the square. On it, a very sensuous looking man with blond hair and a velvet, tight-fitting suit doing some very slick moves in a dark concert hall.

Happy Birthday Jimin! It read in bright white font.

“Wah, oppa is so handsome!” a woman, who must’ve been 5 years older than the man on the screen squealed behind her white medical mask. “I’m so glad our ad turned out well.”

Her friends agreed and ooh and aahed along with her. You turned around to see if Hyerim was following you but she stood, entranced, with the mob of women on the sidewalk.

“You can thirst over him later, preferably when I am well fed,” you snapped irritably, pulling at the pink flowy material of her blouse.

She pouted but acquiesced, taking your hand as you dragged her though the intersection. All you were focused on were some good dumplings, after the mental aerobotics Calculus had forced on you and the emotional stress your father was putting you through. As you turned the corner, you breathed a sigh of relief as you saw no line.

Nestled between a large office building and a parking deck, this tiny Japanese restaurant was a favorite among Uni students for its cheap prices and good food. You usually had to arrive here early to beat the line of students and office workers that gathered here for their dinner breaks.

The cute sign that said Umaido flashed brightly above your head as you entered the restaurant. To the side of the main sigh, a smaller print reading “by the RM Group” glowed, subdued.

Waving over a pimply teen, you ordered two servings of gyoza and waited for Hyerim. She ordered a very conservative meal of sushi and some salad, and you both watched the waiter retreat. Something glossy caught the attention of your eye, and you saw some magazines on the shelf next to your head. The main one in the middle, which looked like a new age artsy publication with a cult following, was simply titled with a white V at the bottom corner.

Like a robot that was powered off, you collapsed in your seat and put your head in your hands. You really did not want to look at your phone.

“Was Calculus really that bad?” Hyerim winced in sympathy, neatly patting your head.

“It isn’t Calc,” you mumbled. “It’s Dad.”

Her expression turned down even more. “What happened?”

Lifting your head from your arms, you propped your chin on your palm and looked out the window. “You know, you’d expect for someone to give you important news in person or at least over a phone call, right?”

“Yeah?” Hyerim asked, lips pursed in confusion.

“Like, if you got remarried or something , you would at least tell your loved ones in person or at least over the phone, right ?”

“... Shit, Y/N.”

Fumbling for your phone in your bag, you ignored the notifications and pulled up your latest conversation. “Look what he texted me this morning!”

Hyerim took your phone and scrolled through it with a manicured fingernail.

Dad : I wish I could call you, but I’m somewhere with limited service.

Dad : I just wanted to let you know I got remarried to this amazing woman, Kim Seoyeon, a few days ago. We met and just clicked, something I haven’t felt since your mom.

Dad : She has seven sons, all of them are grown up. I’m worried about you living on your own, so I’d like you to move in with them. Details coming soon. Love you.

Hyerim was speechless, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. “I’m sorry, what?”

“My dad has gotten spontaneously remarried to some random woman and now wants me to move in with her sons. Like, geez, it’s not like life changing news was delivered to me in less than a hundred words!” you hissed, voice getting higher and tinged with a bit of hysteria.

“Your dad sucks,” Hyerim pronounced, taking a pointed sip of her iced water. “Seriously.”

“Hey, my dad is not that bad,” you defended. “It’s just… he’s a bit distant. Absent-minded. But he’s cared for me in the best way he could.”

“You and I have very different definitions of what constitutes good parenting, Y/N. This man left you largely on your own since you were five, and now he gets worried about you living on your own? Something's not right,” Hyerim retorted.

Ignoring her in favor of the food that arrived, you practically inhaled twelve of the fried gyoza. Rolling her eyes at your typical running-away behavior, she primly dipped a piece of sashimi in soy sauce and took a dainty bite.

“So? What’s the plan? Are you going to stage a rebellion and stay in your apartment, or go stay with some random men?”

Your response was cut off as cheers broke out from the corner of the restaurant, where a large group of men and women were huddled together.

“Cheers to our National win!” a man announced, his face already a bit flushed. “To Neuron!”

“To Neuron!” the group cheered loudly, and lifted up their shot glasses in celebration.

“To our leader, J-Hope!” the same man pronounced brightly, some sake sloshing over the tip of his cup.

“Hoseok!” the group whooped louder, more rounds going around.

As their cheers quieted down, you turned back to Hyerim. “I don’t know. I think I’ll decide when I meet them. They could either all be idiots or they could be chill. I really hope for the latter.”

“Good plan, good plan.”

An awkward silence permeated the booth since both of you were at a loss to say something.

“Onto lighter things, “ Hyerim forced out brightly, clapping her hands. “Let me tell you about my younger brother’s really hot doctor. His name is Dr. Kim and he’s tall and…”

As Hyerim continued to babble on about the tall, handsome pediatric doctor, you felt a buzz in your pocket.

Dad: Their address is 111 Hannam-dong, Yongsan-su

Dad: They’re ready for you.

Can you guess who each stepbrother is and what they do? Comment below!!

Arc 1: Stepbrother Introductions will be released on February 15th at 8pm ET. It’s about ~15k words of getting to know these boys. Please look out for it!

[quaddmgd]

Yesterday, I finally deleted my Twitter account after yet another data leak. Boss Baby's decisions after acquiring this platform made me create this blog and try to move here in the first place, so leaks were only a cherry on top.

My girlfriend helped me with moving to tumblr and the way she talked about it made me think about my social media presence in general. Of course, most users here don't need an explanation as to why tumblr is better and all that, but its merits are what exactly made think about myself.

I realized that I always posted for myself first and foremost. I had a blogspot about handheld consoles, I wrote non-profit reviews for my relative's gaming website, I even started posting screenshots on Steam with some creative descriptions and all that.

Had a short relationship with instagram, but people using it, even my close family, quickly made me hate it for how artificial the world there seems to be. If I didn't spend enough time personalizing my experience, it probably takes too long for my liking.

I got a little bit older, 18 to be exact, when I started to look through twitter. Following my favorite indie game developers and gimmick accounts - had a good time with it. The problem started when I started posting stuff.

Twitter's algorithm is aggressive, to put it lightly. Every time you post something and mention a thing, that thing will flood your feed almost instantly. That's why I would never say anything about, say, a spider I saw. While further personalization improves the experience, you won't ever get rid of things you simply don't want to hear about. On top of that you'll sure get the most liked, commented, quote-tweeted stuff imaginable - it helps with reading news, but it brings a lot of bad takes that sometimes are on the verge of malicious. That way you will never fully control what you see on your feed. Sometimes even filtering keywords doesn't help, mostly with traumas, as there are multiple ways to censor trigger words and twitter users will sure use them all.

A trivial example, but it shows just how annoying your Twitter experience can be. I bought myself a new Xbox console and posted about what I like and don't like about it. While those posts were very occasional, console war zealots from both sides started to appear in my feed on a regular basis - posts that take out all the joy I get from gaming. While I mostly posted about video games without including platforms I played on, I never got rid of console wars.

Even if you never talked about, say, us politics, you'll surely get them on your feed, you'll get notified about voting, you'll get unhinged posts from people who are famous simply for being rich; and you'll see many dramas over stuff that shouldn't matter. That last thing makes you really think about what you post. Even if you won't offend anyone, someone can always shame you for your tastes or you gushing over stuff "too much". Once I even got shamed by a self-proclaimed ✨ Rockstar Games Community member ✨ for playing Red Dead Online, accusing me of "playing it for the sake of keeping it alive".

Back to first paragraphs of this post - a rectification! I didn't start thinking about my social media presence after creating tumblr, but it made me summarize all the little thoughts and irritations that appeared in my head throughout my entire "career". After my gf introduced me to tumblr, it confirmed my belief that I used social media correctly, but, for reasons beyond the subject of this post, most social media websites have irredeemable flaws.

But I post for myself and I will gush over my V from CBP77, my RDO character, Lady from DMC all I want and I'll continue to ramble about stuff no-one will ever take an interest in. It helps me clear my head, it makes me feel fulfilled and I love reading my old posts - it's like a time capsule and, as long as I have the strength for that, I'll continue to fill it with stuff that is important to me!

P.S. As for Twitter's few benefits: I'm using nitter to follow gaming news and game developers without having an account or interacting with toxic people if I'll ever see them. No algorithm there, you have to search for people you already know - no random posts and malicious javascript stuff.

[quazartranslates]

Welcome to the Nightmare Game II - CH22

**This is an edited machine translation. For more information, please [click here]**

[<<< Previous Chapter | Table of Contents | Next Chapter >>>]

-----

Chapter 22: Star Death Reality Show (V)

What was happening? Feeling as though he was blindfolded, Qi Leren and He Yi looked at each other nervously.

"Mark? Are you all right?" He Yi also asked loudly.

There was still no sound in the room.

"Let's go in and have a look," He Yi said nervously.

Qi Leren's heart beat faster. According to the routine in horror games, the loud noise just now was likely an indication of danger, suggesting that Mark had met some big trouble inside.

Had he met the monster? Qi Leren became suspicious. From the task background’s information, he clearly knew that the monster in the "glowing stone" had hatched by this time, although he wasn’t sure whether this monster was a simple and rude physical attack type or a parasitic type like an alien. If it was the former, it would very likely eat people, and its target...

Qi Leren pulled out the knife assigned by the program company and said to He Yi: "Okay."

He Yi looked at the knife in his hand in surprise: "...Do you need a knife?"

Qi Leren was dazed and realized that he had overreacted a little. To an NPC, this copy task was just an ordinary reality show. They didn't know what they were going to face and they were unprepared for it.

"Be prepared." With a straight face and posing as an experienced leader, Qi Leren boldly pushed open the door, as there was no warning from [Rain-Day Laundry] in his card slot.

Mark had fallen not far from the door. There was no blood on the ground. Instead, there was a fallen bookshelf, from which a large stack of objects such as vases and books had fallen to the ground, along with the axe. Obviously, when the black man had come in he had stumbled and knocked over the bookshelf. He was probably hit on the head by something, shed a little blood, and suddenly fainted.

Qi Leren breathed through the corners of his mouth, put the knife back into the sheath as if nothing had happened, and leaned over and lifted the man up: "Come and give a hand."

He Yi also came to help, and the two men lifted the upper body and the lower body, and reluctantly put the big black uncle on the bed.

"Now what? They’re still waiting for us, " He Yi said.

Regardless of the obvious inhumanity of leaving someone unconscious aside, Qi Leren thought for a moment: "Well, you look after Mark here, I will take the axe over, and then I’ll call Dr. Lu... Er, I mean Lu Cangshu."

He Yi smiled: "I know, I heard that his dream is to be a doctor, so his nickname is Dr. Lu."　

It seems that this copy world has also automatically filled in some settings, Qi Leren thought.

The two reached an agreement and Qi Leren took the axe and walked out of Annie's house, walking towards Jing Siyu’s house. Walking halfway, Qi Leren suddenly remembered what He Yi seemed to be about to say to him before Mark's accident. He had said that he’d seen something in the middle of the night...

Qi Leren looked back at the church in the middle of the village. Could it be related to the glowing stone inside?

　　&&&

When he returned to the house Jing Siyu was staying in, the group of people were waiting anxiously for him in this narrow room. Xue Jiahui saw Qi Leren coming back alone and couldn't help but ask: "Where’s He Yi?"

"He Yi didn't come back with you?" Lara also asked.

Poor Mark was forgotten by the girls because he wasn’t handsome. Qi Leren felt deeply in his heart that this was really a world where looks were most important.

"Mark fell and fainted. He Yi is looking after him. I decided to bring the axe first." Qi Leren handed the axe to his teammate Du Yue, giving him a chance to show his skills.

Du Yue took the axe, smiled at Qi Leren, and began to split the wooden trap door. The dust on the carpet flew up, and several of the women ran out covering their noses, unable to stand the dust. Annie was the worst. She coughed wildly and rushed out without looking back. He could still hear her heavy coughing from afar.

"She’s not allergic to dust, is she?" Out of occupational sensitivity, Dr. Lu felt that her cough didn’t seem to be choking, but rather an allergic reaction. "We don't have antihistamine drugs here."

"It won’t be a serious allergy. We’ve all received physical examinations to detect allergens, and at most it is mild allergies," Francis said calmly.

"It'd better be..." Dr. Lu muttered.

"Let's go and see Mark later," Qi Leren said to Dr. Lu.

"Oh, okay," Dr. Lu readily agreed.

Du Yue, an honest boy, worked hard and diligently. He chopped the trap door to the basement a few times, revealing the dark environment below, which gave off a sense of dread.

The ladies were outside, Mark and He Yi were not there, and there were only Francis, Alex, and Qi Leren in the room, a total of five people.

Dr. Lu, who knew the routine well, had no choice but to help: "Well, it seems that we have to go down and look. Who will go down first?"

"I'll do it." Francis stood up.

Alex was one step late and curled his lips. "I'm the second."

After a little reflection, Qi Leren turned to Dr. Lu and said, "It's enough for the three of us to go in and have a look. You and Du Yue wait outside, then go to see Mark when we’re sure that Jing Siyu is okay."

"Alright."

Francis illuminated the basement with a flashlight. The entrance was very humble, with the ladder that led down only made of wood. Immediately after Francis went down, he found Jing Siyu passed out at the bottom of the ladder, and the three people joined forces to get her up.

The group of women also came back from the outside covering their noses and gathered around Jing Siyu to check the situation. Only Qi Leren and Francis were still in the basement, shining flashlights to check the situation there.

"I thought it should be a basement where sundries were placed, but it turned out to be like a laboratory," Qi Leren said curiously.

The same was true of Francis. The two were puzzled by the white-painted basement: "Maybe the owner was a researcher?"

This basement wasn’t big, only 20-30 square meters. The ground was made of cement, the walls were painted white, and all the walls were covered with bookshelves and lockers, with a pile of books and unrecognizable organ specimens. Qi Leren tried to read them, but the words above were all unfamiliar characters—obviously this was the language of this civilization, and the "alien" Qi Leren couldn't understand it.

There were also a lot of materials on the desk, which Qi Leren turned over thickly and couldn't understand. He opened the drawer and checked it, but there were no items like keys.

"Does the program know that there’s a basement in this house?" Qi Leren asked.

"I'm afraid I don't know. They said that it took only three days to sweep the village and arrange the fixed cameras. They couldn’t have been too careful," Francis said calmly.

"Right." Qi Leren looked thoughtfully at the family photos on the desk. The intelligent creatures on this planet looked very similar to them, with two eyes, one nose, one mouth, and no superhuman powers, so one could hardly tell the difference between them and this group of contestants.

"Hey, Francis and Qi, aren't you coming up yet?" Lara shouted from the entrance of the basement.

"Coming!" The two people who didn't find anything in particular gave up, grabbed the flashlights, and climbed out of the basement.

Just as everyone climbed out of the basement, there was a dull boom in the distance, like the sound of an avalanche. Several people were shocked and ran out to check. The women outside the door looked in the direction of the church in doubt: "Did something explode in that direction?"

"Did the church collapse from not being maintained for so many years?" Lara asked.

"I don't know, it was somewhere to the north either way," Xue Jiahui said. "Let’s go see He Yi and Mark later and ask them which direction the sound came from."

Jing Siyu was still unconscious, so they didn't trust to leave her alone in the house. Instead they moved her to Jing Sixue's house and asked her sister to look after her, while the rest went to visit Mark.

Qi Leren winked at Dr. Lu. Dr. Lu ran to Qi Leren and whispered, "Did you find anything?"

"I feel like there’s something wrong with the basement in Jing Siyu’s house. Go back and call Du Yue to have a look. You search carefully to see if there’s anything," Qi Leren said.

"Leave it to me!" Dr. Lu the treasure hunter said confidently.

The rest of the people walked towards Annie's house, and when they passed the church they made a special check and found that there was no place that had collapsed or looked damaged.

Further north was Annie's house. The group of people walked through snow and squeezed into the house. Qi Leren knew where to go, leading everyone to the room where Mark was lying. The door was open, but there was no sound.

Qi Leren suddenly slowed down: "He Yi? Mark?"

No one answered him. There was no one in that room.

"What's the matter? Weren’t those two here just now?" Janet asked exaggeratedly.

"Yes, Mark was knocked out by the shelf by the door, so He Yi and I carried him to the bed in this room. He Yi was looking after him. I brought the axe first... Did Mark wake up? Maybe they went out to find us but went the wrong way?" Qi Leren guessed.

"Impossible, they’re still in this room," Lara suddenly said.

Everyone was shocked by Lara's words and looked at her.

This female star with short hair and a heroic spirit had sharp eyes, and her eyes swept across everyone's faces: "It snowed in the middle of the night yesterday, and a new layer of snow was deposited on the ground. I have a habit of looking at the footprints in the snow. I paid attention to them when I came here just now. Before this group of ours came, there were five sets of footprints in front of Annie's house—those left by Annie when she left in the morning, those left by Qi Leren, He Yi, and Mark when they came to take the axe, and those left by Qi Leren when he left. Only these five sets, no more footprints, do you understand what I mean? Mark and He Yi didn’t leave the house. They’re still here."

-----

[<<< Previous Chapter | Table of Contents | Next Chapter >>>]

[inmyarmswrappedin]

i am catching up on some of your posts from yesterday and i wanted to add that i don’t think that the remakes have exactly tarnished og skam, but maybe more like watered it down in some viewers’ eyes? a lot of people saw og skam as unique in its format and way of portraying teens along with important topics. but after three years of the same stories being repeated across the remakes, it seems like some people have just gotten tired of those same stories and that then gets translated into people forgetting that they were actually new and unique when just og skam was airing. i don’t know if that makes sense? the stories got wrung dry, honestly. which is why i so wish that the remakes had just used the skam format and told their own stories, so that the universe could expand in terms of who is being represented and also so that og skam could just stand on its own once again.

Hi anon! 🍒 This is an interesting ask (btw thanks for the thoughtful asks you guys have been sending me all this time! I genuinely enjoy not just reading your asks, but giving them a platform and discussing them). I feel you in some aspects, but maybe not others.

I agree that the remakes have watered Skam down for some viewers, but I wouldn't say they have watered down the stories per se. I think it's more, like, for some people Skam is simply a show that drops in clips during the week with yellow timestamps and a lead character. That is all that Skam is and nothing else. But if you've been reading my tumblr long enough, you might've caught discussions about how Skam made use of the illusion of "realism" to actually show idealism and hope. However, for some viewers, Wtfock is just as realistic as Skam even when it is continually cruel and disdainful towards its characters. This is a way in which (certain) remakes have watered down Skam, because Skam had a very specific mission statement and feel and intention, that people don't think it's an essential part of Skam that should be kept throughout the versions. And this also goes for aspects like showing a character's vulnerability, for instance. (@lightsandlostbells explained how that was lost in some remakes because they cast actors who, simply put, were too old and self-aware to convey teenage vulnerability anymore.)

I also feel like Skam was really good at finding very specific and personal moments that hadn't really been shown on mainstream TV before, like Isak taking that gay quiz for instance. That was the first time I saw a gay character do that on a piece of media, and yet soooo many people resonated with it! It's small stuff like Noora losing her shit over the fish cakes, which was such a poignant portrayal of controlling one's intake of food not to lose weight (as EDs are often portrayed on TV), but to have control over something when your life is unraveling. I feel like this kind of scenes came about as a result of the extensive research NRK did before sitting down to write the show, like I genuinely feel they listened to the people they interviewed and sought to be accurate and respectful of their experiences. (However limited by their own views as white feminists/white moderates they were.) The remakes, for the most part, have lost these small moments, because they're more focused on dropping as many clips as possible to keep tags alive, more focused on having lots of things going on, maybe to make up for shorter, less intimate clips.

This is how I feel the remakes have watered down Skam (and tbf, the extent to which the remakes have watered down Skam varies as far as I'm concerned, like I don't place Druck and eskam and Austin with Wtfock, France or Italia, and I don't think anyone will be surprised there). Because I think if the remakes had focused on truth over spectacle, I genuinely feel people wouldn't be as tired nor the stories as wrung dry. I feel like they focused more on telling the story than telling the emotional truth behind the story.

At any rate, I feel like if a story is adapted well, it can be adapted over and over and over. Like, how many versions of Romeo and Juliet are out there? Or Pride and Prejudice? But not every version of these stories is equal, which I also feel was something the wider Skams fandom had issues with facing for a while. Like, it was kind of verboten to like one remake more than another, and even more so to like a remake better than Skam. (And for as much as this ask is all about how the remakes watered Skam down... Here's the thing: Some people like those remakes better anyway. And that's fine!)

You could say, "well, people don't just mainline 8 versions of P&P in a single year, maybe those stories would be wrung dry if people did." And like, while I do think all the remakes try to capture international fandom to a bigger or lesser extent, or at least enjoy the international attention... I also don't think any team is expecting people to watch all 8 versions lol. I don't think all that many people involved with a Skam (whether crew or cast) has watched all 8 versions with all of its seasons. So like, that's on us for feeling like we have to watch everything or we're somehow being unfair to a remake or another. And it certainly doesn't help when stans of a particular remake will be like, "well, you're just looking for reasons to dislike this remake, Sander forgave Robbe so idk why you're still talking about it!!" as if I had some sort of vendetta against the Belgians or some shit.

I do miss Skam (or when Skam was at its best rather, like I don't miss Noora's season lmao, though it had its small moments like I've mentioned), but I also feel like... Maybe the people who enjoy the "watered down" remakes never really enjoyed Skam for all that it was, but only certain elements of it. And like, I can certainly relate to that!! Because I definitely enjoyed certain elements of Skam while not liking some other aspects and liking how the remakes did them more (like, for instance, I MUCH prefer how eskam did Nora/Alejandro over Noorhelm and idc that it's "watered down" Skam and that we don't see as many small moments with Nora G as we did with Noora). And I get that Skam stans (or, like, evak stans, because I truly only see this sentiment about wishing that Skam hadn't been wrung dry from evak stans, sorry, I've never seen it from Noorhelm or Sana stans, and Mohnstad stans seem to be angrier that none of the remake P-Chrises capture Herman's raw sexuality (LMAOOOOOO) than anything else) got to have a fandom without comparisons to other evaks or without complaints that evak was too white, cis and male. Honestly, when people draw certain comparisons between Isak and a remake Isak, I too want to scream. But otoh, without the remakes, I wouldn't have David (or Shay, Jo, Cris, Joana, Eva V, Nora G, Amira N, Lucas R, and many others) so you know... ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

[last-operator-standing]

Toll Of The Bell

Chapter 3 - Sonder

> Read on Ao3

> Chapter 1 (tumblr)

> Chapter 2 (tumblr)

> Chapter 4 (tumblr)

Summary: What now? He could roll over and accept the fate thrust upon him and die as Adler intended. Starting a new life away from it all couldn’t be that bad either. Or…

Or he could finish the mission.

Rating: Mature

Warnings: No Warning apply this chapter

Words: 1.8k (7.3k total)

A/N: I'm sorry this one took so long asjdfjf I'm awful at keeping any sort of regular schedule- but i'm going to be trying much harder to keep the chapters flowing :') I'd love to hear any thoughts, and thank you all for the support <3 (p.s. Adler will be here v soon- Promise uwu)

"Please stop staring at me."

Bell has no intention of doing so. He's been staring down Lazar from the moment the man stumbled into the kitchen to join him at the table. The sunlight is harsh despite the closed curtains and the coffee fails to stimulate either agent's mind. This certainly isn't Lazar's ideal morning. The silence stretches on, but the uncomfortable feeling of Bell's eyes on him has him sighing loudly.

"Damn, Bell, alright." Lazar gives in. The chair scrapes loudly against the tile floor as he pushes back to stand, disappearing for a moment and returning with a bag. It piques Bell's curiosity; he was too tired to notice it last night.

A folder slaps loudly against the table and slides a few centimeters towards Bell. The Russian, unable to contain himself, surges forward to snatch it. "You're right about your buddy. Definitely a smuggler of sorts."

Bell flips the folder open and begins rooting through the contents. A picture of Kapano Vang is clipped on the inside. The first page has basic information. Name, call sign, date and place of birth. Bell's more interested in the finer details: A few suspected routes, potential cartel members, a list of what they believe is being smuggled. There's a few recurring words that catch his eye. Golden Triangle Cartel is scribbled at the bottom and underlined twice. Beside it, drawn in bold red ink and circled multiple times, Bell reads PERSEUS?

"What did you see yesterday, in those memories of yours?"

Bell gives a small shake of his head. "It was a bar, I think. He was there." He taps the portrait with a finger. "And someone else who knew us but.. I couldn't remember his face," The Russian gives a disappointed click of his tongue. "Or his name."

Lazar tries to offer a reassuring smile. "Hey, don't sweat it. It'll come back to you."

Bell wishes he could share in Lazar's positivity. He really does. But he can't be sure what brought the memories to him in the first place, or why they were so fragmented. After spending much of the night agonizing over any additional detail he might remember about Perseus or Kapano Vang or anyone else he had seen at that bar and coming up short, Bell's hope started to slip. In the end he could only point fingers at Adler and his MK-Ultra project. "So what's next?"

Lazar doesn't answer right away. He looks thoughtful. Even with their revelation on Kapano Vang and his cartel, they are nowhere closer to finding Perseus than they were before. They are back to square one.

"Well, I could try cross-referencing with MI6 again-" he means Park, Bell thinks with a snort "-and see if they have anything new."

Lazar's looking at him intently and Bell realizes he's waiting for a response. "Oh, uh. Yeah." Bell shifts awkwardly in his seat. "Whatever you say."

A week later, the two man team have no progress to show for their efforts. In that time, Bell's gone over the files at least a dozen and a half times and nothing's changed, nor have any new memories resurfaced. Lazar's cross-referencing has yet to unearth anything new either, telling Bell MI6 is just in the dark as they are.

"This isn't working, Laz." Bell slams the paper back against the kitchen table. His irritation is reflected in the other man's face but Lazar does a better job at hiding it. "We just have to keep looking," Lazar sighs. "We have the answer here somewhere."

Bell clicks his tongue in disapproval. "I've been over these files again and again. There's nothing here. We're not going to find Perseus on some piece of paper-" An idea strikes Bell. Something he never considered before now.

"Bell?" Lazar frowns. "You alright?"

"What if we look for that bar?" Excitement shines in Bell's eyes. Lazar's startled by his suggestion.

"I don't know-"

"C'mon, Laz, think about it. There was more than one Perseus agent there, in my memory." A plan was beginning to hatch in Bell's mind. From the way he's looking at him, Lazar doesn't like where he's going with it. "If we find that bar, maybe we can find one of those agents. Maybe even match some of these faces." He looks down at the file of unconfirmed but suspected Perseus soldiers.

"I don't know about this," Lazar repeats slowly, uncertainly. "If someone recognizes us it could cause some trouble. Especially if they recognize you. You helped stop Perseus the first time. No doubt his people are painfully aware of that."

Bell doesn't want to hear it, though. "It's just a risk we'll have to take," he argues. "I'm a spy, Laz. I know how to keep my head down."

After a bit of back and forth it's settled. First, they'll compile a list of bars in areas known or suspected to be frequented by Perseus. Then, while in constant contact, as Lazar insists, Bell will make his way through each alone and hope nobody recognizes him while he searches for the bar from his memory.

It takes two days to assemble a full list and another day and a half to narrow it down and map a route.

"I'm still not happy about this," Lazar grunts as he drops a duffel bag onto the table. Bell eagerly snatches it and begins shuffling inside. "You worry too much, old man."

The first thing Bell pulls from the bag is a change of clothes. They both agreed he needs something casual. And clean. It would make blending in with the crowd much easier. Too excited about the upcoming mission has Bell stripping where he stands. No time for modesty.

"C'mon, Bell, in the kitchen?" Lazar turns with a light pink tinting his face. Bell grins wide but doesn’t reply. The new outfit fits comfortably. He returns to the bag and roots around for his next prize. There’s a knife with a sheath and a small handgun waiting at the bottom. The knife is removed first. Bell carefully slides it free of its sheath. The blade is unusually slim and dark in color, and sports a dangerously sharp tip with partial serration of both sides near the hilt. Bell’s entirely absorbed in admiring the blade, so much so that he misses Lazar’s amused look until he speaks up.

“I thought you’d like that one.”

Bell returns the smile. “Oh, hell yeah. It reminds me of the one I had in-”

“Hey, Sims! You know reading that shit’s gonna make you go blind.”

“Yep! That’s why I want it alll up here.” Sims shot Adler a lazy grin. The commander slapped the book back against Sims’ chest.

“Bell, you’re with Sims. You usually bring out the best in each other.”

“RPGS! BRACE! BRACE!”

Bell watched in horror as a rocket collided with the chopper beside theirs. It careened dangerously before smashing into theirs, sending their own bird into a death spiral.

Everything was in chaos.

“Grab my hand! I gotcha! I got-!”

“We’ve lost power-!”

“We’re going down-!”

“BRACE!”

Bell blinks hard and his smile falls. There’s a knowing look on Lazar’s face and neither agent speaks a word about it. “C’mon,” Lazar gives a pat to Bell’s shoulder. “Showtime.”

The pair ride in silence. Lazar’s behind the wheel, giving Bell some time to think. He tries to keep the mission center focus, but the memories of Vietnam are overwhelming, fresh in his mind as if they just happened. And they’re not even real. I was never in Vietnam.

The car rolls to a stop and breaks Bell from his thoughts. “Alright, remember, coms on at all times.” Bell rolls his eyes and pops the door, deftly sliding from his seat. “I mean it, Bell!” But he slams the door without reply, turning towards the street. The small earpiece is already safely pressed into his ear and hidden behind his hair.

The checkered brick sidewalks stretch wide on either side of the street. There’s a decent amount of people strolling to and fro, some carrying briefcases and dressed in neatly pressed suits, others in casual attire with seemingly no important place to be. Lazar pulls off, leaving Bell to head for the first destination on his list.

The first thing Bell notices as he pushes into the first bar is the pungent mingling of smoke, alcohol, and sweat in the air. The floor beneath his boots is a glossy hardwood and matches the light oaken walls. The occupants chatter noisily, and although the sound is familiar, the atmosphere is not. This is not the right place. Keeping his appearance as casual as possible, Bell slips through the crowd and retreats out the back door. He glances around to confirm he’s alone before mumbling his findings to Lazar.

One down, seven more to go.

The second bar Bell stumbles into is smaller. There are less individuals milling around and the golden walls are all wrong from the dark cedar panels from his memory. The third bar is even less promising, while the fourth and fifth are so far from Bell’s memory that he’s positive he’s working backwards now.

Bell rejoins the thinning herd on the streets with a dejected sigh. This wasn’t working out. There’s two more bars to check and already it was getting dark. He’d hope for something; A clue, a new memory, a familiar face. Lazar keeps up with words of encouragement but Bell doesn’t have the capacity to share the optimism.

The sixth bar Bell checks holds a notable hushed atmosphere. Right away he’s stricken by the dark atmosphere. It felt.. Tense. Insidious. It doesn’t feel right, but for an entirely different reason. While most of the denizens ignore Bell, a few side-eye him dangerously. He steps to the counter and orders a drink, primarily to alleviate any suspicions from both inside and out.

Bell can’t shake the feeling of eyes boring into his back. It’s somehow different from when he first walked in and was certainly making him more uncomfortable. He shifts in his seat and tries his best to nonchalantly turn and find who the hell was staring at him so hard, but when he looks, he finds nothing out of the ordinary.

The feeling of unease doesn’t leave. He grows antsy and finally after paying with money given to him by Lazar, Bell downs the last of his drink and turns back into the streets. This is certainly not going the way Bell had hoped. The seventh bar is quite the walk from the sixth, allowing him some time to breathe and collect his thoughts.

The feeling of unease melts from Bell’s shoulders the longer he walks. Lazar’s quiet so he turns his attention outward and listens curiously to the broken chatter of the dwindling civilians.

“-think he talks about anything else?”

“Well, it’s not like-”

“Timur?”

“That’s not.. Point.. Why else-”

“Timur!”

“I just think you should consider-”

A hand lands heavily on Bell’s shoulder, stopping him in his tracks. He turns in surprise.

“Timur!” A man stands before Bell with a lazy smirk and a gleam to his eyes- as if he recognizes him. His dark hair is cropped close to his head and a pair of lightly tinted shades adorns his face. The accent is certainly not Russian, and it throws Bell off guard. “Hey! Remember me?”

[nighthaikyuu]

don’t wait for me | tobio kageyama

you knew now wasn’t the time. but you hoped one day it would be.

pairing: kageyama tobio x reader (ft. tsukishima kei) 

word count: 4.1k

genre: angst 

warnings: contains spoilers past season 4 of the anime!                 

the beginning.

It happened a bit too fast for you to even realize it. One minute you were a simple fan of the boys’ volleyball team. The next you were the assistant manager along with Kiyoko and Yachi. And within months you were friends with all the members on the team.

However, while everyone treated you well there was only one person your heart ached for attention from. But you knew you would never be able to get the attention you really wanted from him. Not when his whole life, the reason he gets up in the morning, the reason he breathes, the reason for his existence, was playing volleyball.

You could see it in his eyes, the way they lit up when the ball left his fingers perfectly, when Hinata hit a perfect quick attack, when he surprised the opponent team with his subtle setter dump. You could see it in his movements, the way he would breathe in a little deeper before serving that powerful service ace, the way he would anxiously move when on the bench, waiting to be put back in the game. You saw it in everything, in the entirety of who he was, for Tobio Kageyama, volleyball was the only thing that mattered to him.

But that was okay for you. For all you cared was to see him happy. And you knew, for now, you would be content with that.

And you told yourself, three years later if your heart remained the same: you would tell him.

the middle.

The end of the third year rolled around before you knew it; three years of being the manager of Karasuno’s boys’ volleyball team; three years of getting to know Yachi, Hinata, Kageyama, Tsukishima and Yamaguchi like the back of your hand; three years of watching them grow, in volleyball and as people, but most importantly as a group of friends that you were fortunate to have.

And for three of those amazing years, you were hopelessly in love with Tobio Kageyama.

The last couple of weeks of school the five of you talked often of your plans after graduating; you, Yachi, Tsukishima, and Yamaguchi were all planning to attend university while Hinata decided to travel to Brazil to learn to play beach volleyball. On the other hand, Kageyama had been recruited to V league and was planning to go as soon as you all had graduated.

And you couldn’t have been prouder, despite the ache in your chest that made you feel otherwise.

“I-I’m-” he stammered, as he looked at you with round eyes, his hands shaking slightly.

Worried, you wrapped your hands around his, holding them tightly between your own.

“Tobio, what’s wrong? You know you can tell me anything, right?” you said softly, reassuring him that you would always be there for him, no matter what.

Biting down on his lips, he shook his head softly before you saw his mouth tilt upwards into a smile, a genuine smile.

“I’m not going to University—” he started, to which you slightly tilted your head in confusion as his grin only widened, “I’m going to the V-League Y/N!”

Feeling yourself go still, your lips parted in shock as you stared at the boy in front of you. Your grip on his hands faltered to which Kageyama quickly replaced his own hands with, covering yours as he held them tightly, “Y/N why aren’t you saying anything—”

“Tobio!” you gasped, finally snapping back to reality. Shaking your head in disbelief (although there was nothing unbelievable about this) you quickly pulled the boy in front of you into a hug, “I’m so so so proud of you! I knew this would happen, I had no doubt about it!”

Pulling away, he gave you a soft smile before saying, his voice slightly shyer, “Thank you for always supporting me all these years Y/N. I literally would’ve gone insane if it hadn’t been for you.”

As the words left Tobio’s mouth, words that he had never said before to you but you always knew he meant, you felt your heart warm.

Finding the courage within you, you decided maybe now would be the time to tell him, maybe now you could tell him in love you were with him and how you were ready to support him endlessly no matter where he went, maybe now—

“You’ll always be one of my greatest friends. I’ll never forget you.”

And there you felt it. Your first ever heartbreak.

But unfortunately for you, it wouldn’t be the last.

Graduation rolled around before you could find yourself believing that this was the end. You wouldn’t see these people every day anymore, you wouldn’t see them play as a team anymore, and as the memories rolled in one by one, you began to cry.

“Y/N don’t cry! Why are you crying!” you heard Hinata yell, as he looked at you horrified. Hinata never knew how to handle girls, and girls crying? That was an even more unknown territory for him.

“Y/N...” you heard Yachi say sympathetically. Looking up, you saw her own eyes brimming with tears, and before you knew it you were crying harder.

“You’re acting like you’ll never see us again loser,” you heard Tsukishima say to which you shot him a glare through your teary eyes, “I know I’ll see you, Yachi and Yamaguchi, you idiot, but not the others! O-One’s moving across the world and the other to the V L-League!” you whimpered as the tears spilled over yet again.

Hearing the people you had grown up with for the last three years all laugh, you simply cried harder before they all pulled you into a group hug, each of you savoring the last moments you would have with each other before you moved onto a new part of life: adulthood.

But before that could happen...you had something important to do first.

The day finally rolled around, the day Kageyama would be leaving to go train. Living on the same street as him you told him there was no way he could leave without you seeing him off first. And that’s exactly what you did.

Watching him pack all his bags, he finally turned to you, a small smile on his face.

It was now or never Y/N.

“Tobio?”

“Yea?”

Sighing softly, you watched as your foot slightly messed with the fallen leaves on the ground until you finally collected yourself enough to look back up, your nervous gaze meeting Kageyama’s calm eyes.

“I-I have to tell you something.”

Raising a brow, he simply nodded in response as you took in a deep breath. This was it. This was what you had been waiting for all these years. You had to do it now.

“Ever since the day I stepped foot into the gym, I knew my life was going to change forever.” you started softly, a small smile appearing on your face as the memories filled your brain, “The minute I walked in and saw you and Hinata fighting on the ground, Tanaka and Noya trying to pull you guys apart, and Daichi yelling at all of you, I immediately thought I was going to regret my decision,” you chuckled softly, remembering the day so clearly as if it was yesterday.

“But then I saw you guys play. And it was then I knew, I had made one of the best decisions to date. Year after year, watching all of you grow into the family you are today and becoming a part of that family, I just...I learned so much Tobio...” Taking in a shaky breath, you looked away as you whispering softly, “And it was then I knew something else too.”

“It was when I knew I was falling for you.”

As the words fell past your lips, you found the whole world going silent; it was like the wind stopped, the trees and its branches still and soon you heard a sharp intake of breath from in front of you, before he rasped, “You what?”

Biting down on your lips, you stammered softly, “I-I fell in love with you Tobio,”

Seconds passed in silence. Agonizing, slow seconds.

And then you heard it.

A soft sigh.

A sigh not of happiness, not of relief, but of sadness, of regret, of pity.

“Y/N—”

“I—” you interrupted, your heart racing with fear of what he had to say as you quickly attempted to explain yourself, “I know volleyball right now is the only thing you have time for, trust me I know. I have known that all these years and I-I know how important it was to you so I didn’t say anything because, to me, your happiness mattered most. B-But I couldn’t keep it in anymore.” you admitted weakly as you felt tears brimming at the corner of your eyes, “I-I waited and I know right now nothing is possible, but I-I can wait! I’ll support you and I’ll wait for you until—”

“Don’t.”

Going still, your lips parted as the words on your tongue died, your head shooting up towards him, eyes wide.

“T-Tobio?”

“D-don’t wait for me.” you heard him say. As each and every word fell past his lips, it felt like a stab to your already broken heart. The heart you carefully patched up all these years, with stitches, bandages, everything, all falling apart, one by one by one.

“Why, what does that mean—” you whispered painfully sniffing, your fists tightening at your side as you tried your hardest not to bring them up to your aching chest,

“Y/N, you’re my best friend. Let’s not do this, please—” you heard him reason softly, his voice tainted with a genuine plea.

Lowering your head back down, the tears you tried so hard to keep in fell down your cheeks, and onto the ground as they stained the concrete pathway beneath you, a pool of darkness filling your sight.

Turning around, you started to towards your house when you thought you heard your name leave his lips—but you couldn’t turn back. You couldn’t look at him again without breaking down completely, without telling him how much you loved him, without pleading for him to understand, without begging him to explain.

You were too weak. You were a coward.

And so you left.

the end.

“I will literally kill you.” you deadpanned as Tsukishima looked down at you, grinning cheekily before lowering down the bag of chips and placing it in your small hands.

Grabbing it from, you ruffled his blonde hair before cooing, “That’s my good boy.”

Rolling his eyes in amusement, he simply wrapped his arms around your waist before pulling you closer to his side, allowing you to naturally rest your head on his chest, his own resting atop your head.

“Are you going to the game tomorrow?” you heard him ask, his chest rumbling against your back.

Tomorrow was Schweiden Adler’s home game, against the very MSBY Black Jackels. You had gone with Yamaguchi to pick up Hinata at the airport, a long two years after being in Brazil. But in no time, he had been recruited onto the MSBY Black Jackels team, and tomorrow he’d be playing his long time rival: Tobio Kageyama.

At the mere thought of his name, you felt your stomach turn. Even though it had been three years since all of you had graduated and Tobio had left for the V League, his name always brought the memories of high school, and all the memories of the love you had for him. But just as quickly evades the memory of the day he told you to not love him, to not wait for him, the day he left you broken for life. 

Or so you’d thought.

Turning back around in place, you looked up at Tsukishima before giving him a warm smile, “I’ll go if you go.”

Gaze softening, Tsukishima gently held your face in his hands, his fingers pushing away the stray strands behind your ear before you heard him murmur, “Will you be alright? We don’t have to—”

“Oh, Tsukki...” you chuckled softly. Wrapping your hands around his own that held your face, you said, “It’s been years now, I’m okay.”

“And I have you. Nobody else matters to me anymore,” you added gently as your face erupted into a wide smile, your eyes shining under the soft sunlight. Bending down towards you, he brushed his nose against yours before whispering, “I’m always here for you Y/N. Don’t you forget that.”

flashback

“Y/N! Tsukki! Have you guys seen the video of Kageyama that went viral?!” Yamaguchi exclaimed, as he excitedly shoved his phone into your faces.

“Yamaguchi. Can you calm down?” Tsukishima said lowly, however, his eyes peered over your shoulders, as you watched the video in your hand.

Watching Kageyama set the ball to his new teammates, your lips automatically tilted up into a sad smile.

He looked different. In a good way, of course. He had built up some muscle, an obvious result of all the training you assumed. His hair had grown a bit longer, and you had to admit, it made him look even more handsome.

Suddenly, the screen in front of you became puddled with tears. Snapping yourself into reality, your fingers flew to your face as you realized you’d been crying, your cheeks wet. 

“I—” you began to stammer when Tsukishima gently grabbed the phone from your hands. Using the sleeves of his sweater, he cleaned the screen of your tears before handing it to a puzzled-looking Yamaguchi.

“Yamaguchi, Y/N, and I actually have a club meeting to attend to in a few minutes. We’ll meet you for dinner after, alright?”

With that, Tsukishima grabbed your hand and pulled you in the opposite direction, as the two of you walked away from Yamaguchi who simply shrugged and walked towards the other direction.

After a couple seconds, you shrugged Tsukishima off before saying, “Why did you lie to Yamaguchi? We don’t have a club meeting.”

“Well, did you want to sit there and cry in front of him instead?”

Lips pursing into a thin line, you shook your head.

“Kageyama’s such an idiot.”

Looking up, your lips parted in surprise as you saw Tsukishima standing there, his lips in a small frown as he stared down at you, a certain emotion laced in his gaze, one that was so foreign to you.

“W-What do you mean—?”

“I know you love him Y/N...” Tsukishima sighed as he watched your eyes widen, “I also can figure that things obviously didn’t go well since he left because you’ve been absolutely depressed ever since.”

Face flushing in embarrassment, you began to shake your head in denial as you started to stumble over your words, excuses spilling out one after the other when suddenly you went dead quiet.

Moving towards your, Tsukishima wrapped his arms around your body,  pulling you into his chest. His grip on you tightened until he finally whispered, “I’m here for you Y/N. And I promise you, I will till the end.”

//

back to present. 

“Yachi! Yamaguchi!” you grinned as you waved to your friends, the two of them making their way to where you and Tsukishima had been sitting.

Giving you a tight hug, Yachi grinned, “Isn’t this so exciting! I haven’t been to a game in so long, you know?”

Laughing, you nodded in agreement as the rest of you finally got settled, the announcer beginning to introduce the members of each team.

"And No. 20! Kageyama Tobio!”

Finding yourself going still at his name, your eyes fell upon his figure as he walked out.

“Wah!!!!”

“Kageyama!!!”

Beside you, Yamaguchi and Yachi’s screams jolted you out of your shock as while Tsukishima simply huffed at the sight of him.

However, before you could pay any more attention to Kageyama, you heard your friends begin to scream Hinata’s name as the shorter male entered the court soon after, his smile growing wide as you saw him take in the arena before him.

Soon, the game began; the two teams filled with powerful players stood on opposing ends, each of their gazes filled with an emotion that brought slight shivers to your spine.

The very emotion that you used to see in the boys during high school, the very emotion you saw in them that made you so glad you decided to be their manager.

//

Before you knew it, the game had come to an end. The four of you slowly piled out with the rest of the audience, all of them bustling with the excitement of the exhilarating game you had just watched.

“Tsukki! I’m going to see if I can say hi to Hinata real quick. Do you want to come?” you asked, as all of you had finally made it out of the stands and away from the heavy crowd.

Shaking his head, he simply said, “I’m good.” to which you rolled your eyes.

Looking towards Yamaguchi and Yachi in anticipation, they both smiled sheepishly at you before Yachi spoke up, “Actually, Yamaguchi and I have to be somewhere right now so we’re going to head out.”

Pouting slightly, you whined, “Aww, guys already?”

Pulling you into a quick hug, Yachi and Yamaguchi waved goodbye to you and Tsukishima before leaving.

“Is it just me, or is there something happening there?” you said, turning to look back at Tsukishima.

Smirking, he pushed his glasses up his nose before saying, “That idiot has liked her for ages now, so there better be something happening.”

Laughing, you said, “Alright then. I’ll be back soon. Will you be okay waiting here?”

Nodding, Tsukishima ushered you with his hands, “I’ll be fine, don’t worry about me.”

Smiling, you quickly stood up on your toes, leaving a short kiss on his cheeks before running off towards where you believed to be the players' locker rooms.

Pulling your phone out of your purse, you sent Hinata a quick text telling him you were coming so the security didn’t think you were just a crazed fanatic trying to sneak by.

Feeling your phone vibrate, you looked at it to see Hinata had texted you back with additional directions on how to get back to where they were. Just as you were about to leave, you heard a patter of footsteps behind you.

“I changed my mind, I’ll come,” Tsukishima said. 

Blinking in surprise, you simply chuckled before motioning for him to follow your lead. Referring to your phone every now and then, you and Tsukishima following Hinata’s instructions as you moved down the hallways finally reaching an area that was heavily blocked by security.

Suspicious eyes landing on you and Tsukishima, the guard asked in a monotone voice, “What are you two doing here?”

“I’m Y/N L/N, and this is Kei Tsukishima! We’re here to see Hinata Shoyo, he’s our friend from high-school. I texted him we’d be coming, so he’ll be here soon!” you said politely, smiling kindly at the guard.

Scowling, you heard him reply, “Is that so? Well, I guess you can wait here and we’ll see if he shows up or not.”

Taken aback, you simply nodded as you and Tsukishima moved to the corner of the area, deciding to wait until Hinata would come. As you moved to grab your phone yet again, you heard a deep voice say, “Y/N?”

Stiffening, you felt your blood run cold when you slowly looked up from where you were standing.

And there he stood, Tobio Kageyama.

Seeing him up closer than from where you had seen him earlier, you started to notice how much he had changed since the last time you stood this close to him.

He was taller for one. The slight crane of your neck didn’t go unnoticed by you as you looked up at him, your eyes widening as you took in his figure. He looked...older. I mean, that was obvious but he looked mature, everything from his gaze to his posture had told you he had grown up, grown up from the boy he used to be to the man that stood before you.

You didn’t know how many seconds, or even minutes, passed when the security guard broke the silence, “Mr. Kageyama? Do you know them?”

Nodding slowly, he said, his gaze not leaving you once, “Yeah, you can let them through.”

Moving away from the entrance, the grouchy-looking guard gave way for you and Tsukishima to walk through. Feeling a hand at the small of your back, you took a deep breath in before moving past the guard.

“You came to the game,” Kageyama stated plainly, to which you merely nodded, your throat going dry as your tongue couldn’t form any words.

“Of course we did~” you heard Tsukishima drawl behind you. Throwing on a slight smirk, he added, “Had to come to see the King back in action, right Y/N?”

Rolling his eyes, Kageyama replied with a small smile, “I shouldn’t be surprised you still call me that.”

However, with that Kageyama’s gaze fell back on you, while you stood there, unable to say or do anything.

You felt pathetic. Not only to be this way in front of Kageyama after how your last encounter ended but to also be this way in front of Tsukishima, your words from yesterday haunting you.

“Y/N! Tsukishima! You guys came!” you heard another voice cheer, your attention quickly falling to the figure who entered the area.

“H-Hinata!” you finally choked,  “It’s so great to see you again! You played so great today, you were a-amazing!”

Laughing, Hinata rushed towards the two of you, giving you both a quick hug before turning to see Kageyama standing there, “Huh? What are you doing here? Did Y/N text you saying she was coming too?”

Blinking, Kageyama slightly started to shake his head when you quickly interrupted with a nervous laugh, “We just bumped into him! Ahh, I wish Yamaguchi and Yachi stayed behind, we would’ve had the whole crew together!”

“They came too?! I thought I saw you guys in the stands!” Hinata grinned as you nodded in response, a small smile finally starting to appear on your own face.

“Tsukishima! I didn’t get to say this to you since your ass didn’t come to pick me up at the airport with Yamaguchi and Y/N, but congratssss~” Hinata teased, wiggling his brows at the two of you.

Suddenly your smile dropped as you felt your stomach churn, Oh Hinata...not right now!!”

“Who would’ve thought you two would’ve gotten together, huh!?” Hinata continued as he laughed, shaking his head in disbelief.

“You both are together?” a low voice asked.

Whipping your head back up, your gaze met Kageyema’s heavy one; as you felt him stare so deeply at you, you started to feel your insides unravel.

However, just then, Tsukishima slipped his hand into yours, gripping them tightly against his side as he smiled, “Yea, since last year.”

Watching him nod slowly, he finally said, this time his gaze not meeting yours, “That’s great to hear. Congratulations.”

the epilogue.

Don’t wait for me...for me...for me...

The words rang like a broken record in his head, the painful memory returning back to haunt him as he groaned inwardly, running his hands through his hair as he gripped it in frustration.

He had returned back to the Schweiden Adler’s locker room as he sat on the bench, his head hanging low as he watched the water droplets drip from the tips of his hair.

He felt like a complete, utter idiot.

Honestly, the moment his eyes laid on you when he saw you, he had felt his heart race in a way he hadn’t felt in a very long time; a very different type of rush ran through his body as your eyes met his, your soft, kind, comforting eyes.

He was so entranced by you and how much you had changed; how beautiful you had become. You were always pretty to him, that wasn’t new but now...now you were simply beautiful.

But within seconds, his racing heart went still, shattering in his chest the second he saw Tsukishima slip his hands into yours, pulling you to his side so naturally. Like it was meant to be. 

Clenching his fists, Kageyama’s eyes shut close as he tried desperately hard to get that image out of his head, his heart aching in his chest every time it resurfaced.

He regretted it at that moment.

The moment he saw you again.

The moment he heard your voice.

The moment he saw you smile.

The moment he knew you would never be his.

The moment he knew he couldn’t take back what he said.

He regretted the words he said three years ago.

Don’t wait for me.

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[nalgenewhore]

With My Life - Chapter Nine 

masterlist - ao3 - last chapter - next chapter 

warnings: (all graphic) violence, guns, blood, smut, implied PTSD

an: very interesting.....all i have to say 

“Hellas, V, is this really where you live?” 

Vaughan shushed Fenrys and ushered the twins into his shitty little apartment, suspiciously checking the hallway before closing the door. They waited as he bolted each lock, every deadbolt going click, click, click, click, click.

Rowan raised his eyebrows and looked at Lorcan, mouthing Five locks. Lorcan just shrugged, Vaughan had always been a private person. He was more interested in the pictures his brother had on his fridge - one of him, Lorcan, and their sisters, one of their mother, and one of him and Lorcan as children, both frowning as the photographer interrupted their game of Mario Kart. 

Lorcan, like the others, had never set foot in Vaughan’s apartment. He was the only one - the sole person - in the world who knew where Vaughan lived, for emergencies, but he’d never been. Not even the agency knew where it was.

Lorcan, Rowan, and Nehemia were already there, sitting at his kitchen table with the decrypted list on Nehemia’s laptop. 

Fenrys took the seat next to his wife and smiled at her, kissing her cheek in greeting. Connall sat next to Lorcan and nodded hello. “Nice place, Vaughan,” he commented, leaning back in his chair and putting his feet on the table. 

Vaughan clicked his tongue as he too sat down, “Get your feet off my table. I eat here.” 

Connall made a face, but did as he was ordered, becoming serious. “Why are we here?” 

“Maeve is connected to Erawan. She’s helping him import Wyrd,” Lorcan said bluntly, turning the computer screen to show them. “Mia couldn’t figure out the codes, but just look.” 

They all leaned in to read. Rowan sat upright first, voice hollow, “It’s our old missions.” He picked up the laptop and stood up, pacing as he read, “Sollemere, Mistward, Morath… fuck, even Perranth.” Perranth wasn’t supposed to be on record. The second they’d gotten home, it had been erased from history. 

“Let me see,” Fenrys said, standing and grabbing the computer from Rowan. If it wasn’t such a serious moment, Lorcan might’ve laughed at the childishness of it all and their brotherly dynamic, still unable to share even after all these years. “It’s all here.” 

“What happens now,” Connall asked, serious as he leaned forward to brace his forearms against the table. 

“We leave,” Nehemia said, taking the computer back from Fenrys. “It’s not safe for any of us. I’m sure Maeve had someone watching her back and that they saw me in there yesterday while she was wiping the file. We can’t do any work here and she will put our family at risk, so we go.” 

“Where?” Rowan asked, crossing his arms over his chest. “It has to be far enough from her, but we can’t just leave. People’s lives are in danger.” 

Nehemia and Lorcan exchanged a glance and the former spoke up, “Terrasen. They have an alliance with Wendlyn, but their treaty forbids any foreign secret service working within its borders. We all have contacts there, we’ll be able to work out a deal once we figure out what she wants.”

Fenrys sighed and rubbed his eyes, sitting down heavily in a chair next to Nehemia. She absentmindedly rubbed his back, resting her chin on his shoulder. “We can’t all leave. Somebody needs to stay.” 

Lorcan and Rowan protested immediately, “What are you talking about–” “Fen, it’s not the time to play hero–” 

“I’m not playing hero, Ro,” Fenrys said, voice tired and strained. “She’ll go mad - you know she will, when we leave. She’s unpredictable, boys, and dangerous. We need someone on the inside, someone she trusts.” He glanced upwards at Connall, who nodded grimly. 

Nehemia stiffened, turning to her husband. Her voice was barely above a whisper as she said, “You mean you and Con. Fen…” 

“It’s the only option, sweetheart,” he whispered, his head hung low. “Maeve hasn’t trusted Ro since he married Ae. She looks at L like she’s waiting to kill him and you know she won’t let V live if L leaves. We’re the only option.” 

Nehemia looked at the others as they all took their seats again. No one wanted it to happen, that much was obvious, but realistically… it was the only way. 

+*+*+*+*+*+*

Elide looked up from the stack of essays she was grading for the undergraduate class when her phone started to ring. 

She capped her purple pen and put it to the side before picking up her phone. The number was one she didn’t recognise, yet she still accepted the call, “Hello?” 

“Princess, it’s me.” 

A smitten smile pulled at her lips just at his voice and Elide leaned back in her chair, “Well, hello. I didn’t recognise the number.” 

“I’m calling from a phone booth, my phone died,” Lorcan explained. “Listen, E, there’s something… something I gotta tell you and it’s going to seem crazy, alright?” 

Apprehension seized her and she almost wished she hadn’t picked up the phone, “What is it?” 

He hesitated on the other end of the line for a second or two. “An old client of mine… he’s made some enemies and… we need to leave the country.” 

Elide laughed, relieved that it was all a joke. But Lorcan didn’t laugh and she froze, “You’re not joking.” 

“No, I’m not. El, I- fuck, I know this really fucks everything up–”

“Yeah!” she cried, standing up to walk around the tiny space behind her desk. “It does, what the fuck, Lorcan? Am I going to be killed? Are you?” 

“I don’t know.” 

“Well, how long do we have to leave for?”

“I don’t know.” 

“Fine, where are we going?” 

“Terrasen.”

Elide collapsed into her seat, rubbing her forehead, “I really hate your job.” 

Lorcan chuckled and the sound had her perking up just a bit. “I know, princess. I’m sorry.”

She waved her hand dismissively and then asked, her voice small and quiet, “How much danger are we in?” He didn’t answer and after a few moments when the silence stretched on and on, Elide thought the call had ended. “L, are you still there?” 

“I’m still here, E. We’re in… a lot of danger. They’re powerful people with too many connections. It’s why we need to leave.”

“When.”

“When, what?” 

“When do we need to leave, Lorcan?” 

“...tomorrow morning. Everyone else is packing.” When she didn’t say a thing, he spoke again, “El, baby?”

“Yeah,” she said, staring at the coffee ring on one of the student’s papers. “I have a thesis review tomorrow, Lor. I’ve been preparing for months, I need to be there. Can we go after, please?” 

Elide waited as Lorcan contemplated, tears aching in her throat. This was not how her life was supposed to go. She didn’t want to be on the run. “We can do it. I’ll meet you after, and we’ll go, alright?” 

She hesitated, not sure what she was agreeing to if she said yes. “I don’t know. I just- I don’t understand. What if something happens and- what am I supposed to do, I have things here, in Varese. Aelin is here, my friends are here. I don’t… I don’t know, L.” 

“I know it doesn’t make any sense and I don’t know what you’re thinking, but do you trust me?”  

Elide didn’t need to think before she answered, “Yes.” 

There was a smile in his voice when Lorcan replied, “Then that’s all there is to it, for now. I’ll see you at home.” 

“Ok, then. Love you,” she whispered, smiling softly to herself. 

“Love you too, El.” 

+*+*+*+*+*+*

Everyone else had left Vaughan’s, except for him and Nehemia. Lorcan stalked back into the living room and dropped onto the couch. He snapped the cheap burner phone it two and tossed both the pieces on the coffee table. 

Nehemia was in the kitchen, making coffee for them both. “How’d it go?” 

“Fine. She has a meeting tomorrow, so I’ll book the later flights,” he said, staring at the wall. “I checked the safe house in Orynth - it hasn’t been used in a decade and they’ve disabled the alarms.” 

Nehemia padded over to him and passed him one of the coffees before sitting in the armchair, her legs curled beneath her. The kitchen light played off the golden cuffs in her Fulani braids as she tilted her head back against the chair. “We have to tell her, Lorcan.” 

He didn’t say a word. 

+*+*+*+*+*+*

When he got home, Elide was curled up on the couch, watching an animated movie on the flatscreen. It was warm and cozy, the fireplace lit and casting heat around the apartment. 

His girlfriend paused the movie and turned to look at him, smiling brightly, “Hi.” 

Lorcan hung up his jacket and loosened his tie before walking over to her. “What are you watching?” 

“Atlantis: The Lost Empire,” she said, turning back to the movie and pressing pay. “Do you want to watch with me?” 

“‘Course I do,” he scoffed, tipping her chin back with his fingers to kiss her deeply. She made a soft sound and smiled against his lips, causing him to pull back. “I’m gonna change, but I’ll be right back.” 

Her gaze had already strayed to the screen and she nodded absentmindedly, waving him off, “Go, go.” 

Lorcan chuckled and walked up to their room, swapping out his black suit and shirt for a pair of sweats and a t-shirt. When he walked back downstairs, Elide was on the phone, her voice chirping and bubbly. 

He made a face at her phone voice and she flipped him off, narrowing her eyes in that way that said, Don’t you dare make me laugh right now. Laughing, he sauntered over to the couch and flopped onto it, stretching across it lengthwise. 

Lorcan resumed the movie, making a note to thank Elide for the choice - he hadn’t watched this movie in ages. It reminded him of those rainy days, the only ones he spent inside during his childhood. 

Their mother’s room was the only room with enough electricity to power their clunky and boxy television, so all four of them - Lorcan, Vaughan, Aneha, and Sadirah - would pile on Odette’s bed and watch the few VHS they owned. 

A petite body joined his, fitting perfectly against his side. Lorcan dropped his arm to wrap it around Elide and she rested her head against his chest. “I ordered Chinese. They said it would take thirty minutes.” 

He hummed, idly rubbing her arm. Without taking his eyes off the television, Lorcan asked her, “Do you want to talk about it?” 

“About what?” 

He sighed through his nose, “El.” 

She rolled onto her side, burying her face in his shirt. “Don’t worry, I packed and told Darrow that I needed to take a leave. It’s… tomorrow, everything changes. I want one normal night. Just a boy and a girl, watching old Disney movies and eating shitty takeout, ok?”

Lorcan nodded, dipping to rest his chin on her head, “Ok.” 

+*+*+*+*+*+*

They watched Atlantis: The Lost Empire, the movie just wrapping up when Malakai buzzed to say that their takeout had arrived. 

When Malakai had found out that Lorcan was, in fact, very much alive, there had been a long hug, followed by a vicious beration. Lorcan had never looked smaller. 

“Rock, paper, scissors,” said Elide. “Best of three and no cheating.” 

Lorcan smirked, crossing his arms over his chest. He didn’t miss the way her gaze strayed to his ink-covered biceps and waggled his eyebrows at her, delighting in the blush she couldn’t stop. “Do we really need to resort to rock, paper, scissors to decide who has to go get the food?” 

“Oh, are you volunteering?” 

“Fuck no, let’s go, Lochan,” he said. 

Forty-five seconds later, Elide was snickering as he grabbed his wallet and shook his head. “You cheated.” 

She just shrugged and waved him off, already choosing a new movie. “The Princess Diaries or Clueless?” 

“If it’s not The Princess Diaries: Two, I’ll cry,” he replied, putting his slides on before he ducked out to the elevator, her laughter following him. 

Apparently, Elide had ordered enough to feed a small army, or he and the boys. Lorcan was carefully balancing it all as he kicked the door shut behind him. 

Elide had opened a bottle of whiskey and there was a glass waiting for him on the island. 

She turned to him and clapped her hands, popping off the couch to race over to him. Elide was humming as she took the bags and unpacked it all, eyes gleaming. 

Lorcan leaned against the island and grabbed his glass, taking a sip and whistling, “Shit, you opened the good shit.” 

Elide snorted, gesturing to the bottle on the coffee table, “I know my whiskey, Salvaterre.” 

“You really are the perfect woman,” he said, meaning every word. 

Her cheeks pinked prettily and she clicked her tongue as she opened the lids, stacking them on the side, “Charmer.” She grabbed the bamboo chopsticks and the hot sauce packets. “Do you want chopsticks or a fork?” 

Lorcan drew back in offence, “I know how to use chopsticks, princess.” At her disbelieving look, he rolled his eyes, “I do, but maybe…” he took another sip of the amber liquor before putting the glass down, leaning close to her and whispering seductively, “you could teach me, hmm?” 

She laughed, pushing him away and shaking her head. “That is the weirdest way you’ve ever tried to hit on me.” 

“You’ve been hit on in weirder ways than chopstick lessons?” 

“You’d be surprised,” Elide said dryly, rolling her eyes, “what a nice pair of tits will have men saying.” 

Lorcan’s eyes dropped to her chest in her crop top and hummed, sucking on his teeth, “Mm, they are nice.” 

“Pig,” she hissed, putting her hand over his face and shoving him back. “Play nice.” 

“I always play nice with your tits, baby,” Lorcan purred, his lazy smile only growing when she shot him a glare that would have made Hellas’ fiery realm freeze over. 

“Say one more thing and you’ll never get to play with them ever again.” 

He chuckled and held his hands up in surrender, slowly backing away to the cabinets. Elide could barely hide her smile as he passed her a plate and they piled food on their plates before walking back to the couch. 

Lorcan grabbed the whiskey bottle and sat down next to her, the pair quickly becoming lost in their own world of shitty takeout, Disney movies, and expensive alcohol. 

After the Princess Diaries were done, they played rock, paper, scissors once more to decide between… Lorcan couldn’t remember. 

The bottle lay empty on the carpet and his vision was blurred. Elide was giggling softly, her eyes bright, “Alrigh… alright, hol’ on, ok? We gotta… we gotta go on one, two, three!” 

Lorcan laughed and shook his head, “No, no, we gotta sleep. Remember? We’re leaving tomorrow.” 

“Oh, yeah,” Elide said, “‘cause someone wants to kill us.” She laughed, smiling brightly. 

“I don’t even know why,” he complained, lying back on the floor. “We’re really nice.” 

“And pretty.” 

“The prettiest,” Lorcan confirmed. With a heavy sigh, he slowly got to his feet and hoisted Elide over his shoulder. She shrieked and wiggled until he smacked her ass, her cries of protest melting into an over-the-top, teasing moan. 

“Oh, hit me harder,” she begged, voice high and breathy. “Please, sir.”

Lorcan shook his head at her, “Disgusting. No more talking from you.” 

She giggled again and braced her elbow on his back, propping her chin up on her fist. “You got a nice ass, Salvaterre.” 

He snorted, “Yours ain’t too bad either, princess.” 

Elide hummed and stayed still for the rest of the trip, her thoughts becoming more mellow, as opposed to jumpy, wild things. 

They were more like a fog now, settling heavy over her mind. 

And then, there was the ugly thought, the one she had only thought of once, just one time before banishing it to the depths of her brain. 

Lorcan placed Elide down and brushed her hair from her eyes. 

She gave him a lazy smile, trailing her elegant fingertips over his full lips. “You know what, Lorcan?” 

“What, Elide?” 

“I have a secret,” she whispered, her eyes shining with something, he couldn’t place it. “It’s a… a doozy, as they say.” 

Lorcan laughed, flopping down beside her. “Tell me.” 

“Sometimes,” she murmured, now running a finger up and down the straight bridge of his nose, “I wish I never met you.” 

The words, those horrible words, hit him like a blow to the gut and Lorcan breathed out slowly. “Hmm.” He shut his eyes to stop Elide from seeing the pain in them. “That’s…” 

“It’s awful, isn’t it?” she hummed, glancing out the window to the moon beyond it. 

Lorcan didn’t respond, but he was still awake as Elide fell into a deep, inebriated sleep. 

I wish I never met me either, Elide.

+*+*+*+*+*+*

an: well.....looks like the gang is going on a road trip ! 

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