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oddinary4bts · 1 year

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Love is a Laserquest | choi san

☆summary: years after your break-up, Choi San comes to you for help. In an attempt to save his life, you escape to your uncle's cabin in the woods far from civilization. Will nostalgia and longing make you fall again, or is Choi San just spinning more lies to you?

☆pairing: gangster!Choi San x female!reader

☆rating: 18+ (minors DNI)

☆genre: gangster au, exes au, angst, smut, a smidge of the one bed trope

☆warnings: guns/gun violence (mentioned), knifes/stabbing (mentioned), a bounty over San's head, death of a minor character (named Jungkook my bad), blood, injuries, stitches, probably some wrong medical terminology bc optometrists don't stitch up people lmao, a panic attack, cursing, pet names, explicit content: oral sex (female receiving) -> face riding, let me know if I forgot any!

☆word count: 16.5k

☆a/n: Here's my submission for Outlaw: The Project hosted by @ssaboala. It is coincidentally my first time posting about another group than bts, so I hope this won't disappoint! I really enjoyed writing it (even though it's really sad oop). Also my first time making a moodboard so hopefully it works haha

☆a/n pt2: thank you to @moonleeai for being my ever-so faithful beta reader, love you lots <3

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And do you still think love is a Laserquest? Or do you take it all more seriously? I’ve tried to ask you this in some daydreams that I’ve had But you’re always busy being make-believe

Love is a Laserquest – Arctic Monkeys

☆☆☆☆☆

The diner is silent, unoccupied. It always is on late weekday evenings, when most patrons have gone to bed, the city falling under a carpet of hushed silence only night can bring forth. It makes the diner feel like it’s straight out of a 70s movie, and it makes for the perfect study sessions too.

Night isn’t always soundless in your part of town. Hence why you’ve been trying to escape, pursuing an education that has been leaving you penniless, but with a bright future ahead. If you make it out of med school at a certain point, that is.

Tonight, you fear the peace that night usually entails has been ruined for you – there were gunshots earlier, close enough for you to see the police cars racing past as the law officers made it to probably yet another gang fight.

There’s been a gang war on your side of town. The diner has always been safe, a refuge for both sides of the war, where they aren’t allowed to fight. To carry in weapons and hatred. No, the moment they cross the threshold of the diner, the gangsters become one family, sharing struggles that only poverty can cause.

You wipe a table clean before walking back towards the counter. Your open laptop waits for you, and you quickly read the study guide you’ve made for yourself, the cardiovascular system and its pathologies forming a maze in your mind that you’ve yet to decode. Luckily enough, you still have a week before the bloc ends and you have to take the exam.

Plenty of time to cram everything about the heart in your thick little skull, you’d say.

Your lips move in time with what you’re reading, attention solely focused on the bright screen when a thump is heard right outside the door. It startles you, and you turn around to see the empty street out of the glass door.

It takes you about ten seconds to notice the dark form sitting on the ground. They’re leaning against the door, head lolling to the side. You assume it must be someone that’s ended unhoused, something that happens far too often where you live.

You’ve always been kind. When you were younger, you were told your kindness would be your demise. Yet you’ve never been able to be anything but kind, even though sometimes it might put you at risk. So you can’t resist but walk to the front door, trying to push it open.

It’s useless – the weight of the person is keeping it tightly shut, though they do straighten a little, as if coming to their senses. They turn, and the moment their profile comes into view you’re brought back eight years in the past. To a time when the world was still a beautiful place, void of violence and cruelty. To a smile so sweet it made flowers blossom on your heart, and to eyes so sharp you knew they had read your soul.

Choi San is sitting outside the door, and the caked blood on his cheek tells you enough – he’s injured. He pushes away from the door before slowly getting up. He clutches his side as he does it, yet when he turns back towards you and faces your horrified eyes, he still offers you a smirk.

You push the door open, thinking about the years between then and now. You had dated him for a few months that had felt like forever, until you had realized in what kind of business he was getting involved with. You had tried to convince him to flee before it was too late, and he kept promising that he would.

Only he never did, hiding lies with beautiful words that made your teenage self swoon, until your parents had realized and forced you to break up. It had been a nasty break-up, filled with hatred and words you didn’t mean yet had needed to say for him to leave.

You remember breaking his heart like it was yesterday.

“Choi San,” you greet him, and when he lets go of his side, you notice blood on his hand.

Something runs cold inside of you, even though he still sports a smirk on his lips.

He says your name, bowing his head. “Haven’t seen you in a while.”

Months, in fact. Because he does come to the diner sometimes. He usually ignores you, and so do you, so it feels strange to have him speak to you. To hear his voice as his words are addressed to you.

“What…” you trail off, glancing down at the ripped fabric of his black tank top.

He’s got a mean cut on his ribs, and it’s only then that you truly realize that he’s badly injured. Because there’s more – one of his biceps has been sliced open too, though blood is barely oozing out of it in small rivulets. The blood on his cheek is from where you assume he’s been punched with rings, and there’s already an underlying bruise under his eye.

“Got beaten up,” he states the obvious, and you immediately open the door wider to let him in.

He limps in, heading towards the nearest booth, where he plops down and lets out a pained grunt. You make sure no one is outside before shutting the door and locking it, flipping the hanging sign on it so it says closed in case a patron decides to show up.

You take a few steps towards San, hands shaking slightly at your side. Because that’s a grown man, bleeding out on the leather seat of the booth, and his eyes are shut though he looks in pain. You don’t know what you’re supposed to do. You haven’t yet started your residency, haven’t really gone from theory to practice… Yet you’re studying to be a doctor, are you not?

“Why are you here?” you ask, though you’re pretty sure you know the answer.

“Didn’t know where else to go,” he says, wincing as one of his eyes opens. He tilts his head to look towards you. “Word around the block says…” he pauses, takes a deep breath before continuing, “that you’re studying to be a doctor”.

So you are right. He’s here because he needs your help, and you’re not quite sure how you feel about it.

“Why…” You look for words, and it takes you a moment to realize that it doesn’t matter.

For all the history between you and him, Choi San doesn’t deserve to bleed out to death on a cheap leather seat in a forgotten diner on the dangerous side of town.

He has the decency to chuckle at the start of your question, which only makes him wince in pain once again.

“Don’t move,” you tell him, and it’s a little stupid because clearly, he’s in no state to move.

He doesn’t question it, and you run to the kitchen to thoroughly wash your hands and grab the first aid kit. At night, no cooks stay around, and you usually only reheat food if needed, which doesn’t really happen. You haven’t had any client coming in at night in weeks… until San, that is. So no one is there to see what is going on, which you reckon is a relief. Because you have no idea what’s going on.

You return to the booth where San is waiting, patiently. He’s clearly wiped his hand on his face because there’s fresh blood on his forehead, and you almost balk at the sight of it.

“What have you done?” you mutter, more to yourself than to him.

It seems he’s still in sync with you because he still hears. “Got involved with the wrong crowd.”

You put the first aid kit down on the table, ignoring his eyes when they flutter open, and he rests his gaze on you.

“I don’t know if I can help you,” you say as you unzip the kit and throw it open. You spare his side a quick glance. “This looks like you’re going to need stitches.”

He makes an effort of looking down at himself, though it mostly fails as he doesn’t raise his head from the seat. “Right.”

You grab everything you think you might need – alcohol swabs to clean his skin, fresh linen to bandage his side and arm, and stuff for his cheek too. He carefully observes you, with that piercing gaze of his that used to make you go crazy inside when you were young and impressionable.

You vaguely motion at him, and he cocks an eyebrow. “What?”

“Are you able to sit up?” you ask. “I can’t reach you if you’re lying back like this.”

His pink tongue darts to wet his lips, and he nods curtly. “Let me…” he trails off, resting a bloody hand on the table while he grabs at the back of the booth to push himself up. It has new blood appearing on his side, and you quickly move towards him, putting some linen against it.

As if it’s going to do anything. He clearly needs stitches, and you’ve got nothing with you to stitch him up.

“Fuck,” he curses lowly as he’s finally sitting. You just keep the linen on his side, eyes a little wide.

Your gazes connect inevitably, and time slows. You think about how he used to smile, how his eyes used to hold a softness you haven’t had the chance to see again since he’s walked out of your life.

Or rather, since you kicked him out of your life.

“I don’t think I can help,” you whisper, and his eyes flicker to your lips.

“I can’t go to the hospital,” he admits, shame turning his features into a mask of regret. “They… If they find me, I’m dead.”

Dread fills every ounce of your being. “San, what have you been doing?”

He looks away from your insistent gaze, scoffing slightly. “You don’t want to know.”

He isn’t wrong; you genuinely don’t want to know. Because he means nothing good, even with all the memories you share with him.

“Is it going to put me in danger?” you ask, as he still obstinately avoids your gaze.

He seems to freeze in front of you, as if you’ve pressed pause to your favourite show. To avoid the awkwardness, you busy yourself with grabbing one of his hands so he can hold the linen in place before you start washing the cut on his arm. It’s not deep, but you’re pretty sure it’ll still leave a mean scar, especially considering he can’t go to the hospital.

The thought has a drop of cold sweat roll along your spine. People want him dead. People want Choi San, the man you know as a young, scared teenager just trying to find a way to make his life better, dead. You remember the innocence in his smile – has he smiled at all in the years apart?

“I should go,” he says flatly. He moves to stand, but you hold him down, two hands firmly placed on his shoulders. It makes him wince, and you quickly release your grip.

“Don’t,” you tell him. “Let me at least patch you up.”

His eyes shut again as his head hangs low. “I am so sorry.”

You don’t even know who he is apologizing to, or why he is. All you know is that it causes your heart to clench in your chest, stealing the breath from your lungs.

When you were younger, you believed San was your star-crossed lover. You believed your high school sweethearts romance would grow until you’d be old and grey and at the end of a very long road. You had dreamed of a future with him, the way only teenagers can dream – with no sense of reality. Because your reality had never been to end up by his side.

His choices had been proof enough of it.

You still remember the day you first kissed. Under an August meteor shower, with just the night sky as your witness. It had been hesitant, slow and soft, just like everything with San. And you had believed the lie, trusted it with every beat of your little heart, until your parents had found out the truth about him.

Until they had broken your heart, even before you had broken his.

If the stars had known then, what was going to happen to you and Choi San, would they still have shone through the night?

He lets out a pained sound as you gently dab at the cut on his bicep. You clean the skin around the wound in and of itself, and he watches you carefully, piercing gaze not missing how your face clouds with memories.

“How have you been doing?” he asks so softly you think his words are a gentle summer breeze on your features.

You can almost still smell the summer night air of that field where you had stargazed, where you’d always meet so long ago.

“I’ve been okay,” you answer, truthfully. Because even though you haven’t seen him, you have lived your life apart from him. Have evolved without him by your side. “Better than you, visibly.”

He didn’t expect the joke. It makes him snort, and then a soft smile grows on his lips, softening the edges of his hard features. “You haven’t changed.”

You have, and yet you haven’t. Like him, you think there’s a part of you that is still sixteen, and will forever be. A part of you that remained stuck in the moment when you watched him walk away in the rain, as if even the sky had to cry for his broken heart.

“Wish I could say the same about you,” you murmur, nostalgia a melancholic song in your words.

He chooses to remain silent, because the proof of how much he’s changed is sitting right in front of you, wounded and bleeding and hurt. The hurt is behind his eyes, in the shadows of the past that have also been obscuring your vision.

“Yeah,” he lets out, barely audible.

And then silence reigns between you, because as much as you once loved him, eight years have made you strangers. You don’t know anything about his life except the dirty, obvious darkness that surrounds him, and he doesn’t know anything except that you are studying to be a doctor…

Which leads you to wonder how does he know in the first place?

You ask him, as you’re wrapping the linen around his bicep to make a makeshift bandage. You’re proud of the result, though your fingers can’t resist but linger on the taut skin over his muscle, surprised at how soft it still is.

“I’ve heard you mention it,” he admits, as you take a step away to look at the material on the table, as if it’ll suddenly make stitches appear for you to put them in his skin. “One of the times I was here.”

“You never said hi,” you reproach him, unable to hide the ghost of a bite in your tone.

“Neither did you,” he points out, and he isn’t wrong.

All you can do is purse your lips as you finally decide to clean his skin. But for that, you have to rid him of his tank top, to make sure there’s no fabric in the wound. You look at him, cheeks somehow burning even though all you’re doing is taking care of a patient.

Though he’s not a patient, and you’re not in a hospital. You’re just a server at a dusty, old diner and he’s just your teenage lover, wounded by his dangerous actions.

“Should I grab scissors to remove your shirt?” you ask, though you’re speaking to yourself more than to him.

He still finds it in him to tease. “You want me out of my shirt?” he enquires, smirk gracing his lips again. “Say no more.”

He tries moving, but you hold up a hand to stop him. “Don’t,” you warn. “You’ll make it bleed more.”

He purses his lips, because nodding. “Right.” He glances at the first aid kit, before his eyes trail to your face again. “You got scissors in that?”

There are. You grab them, before turning towards him. It feels strange: you’ve never undressed him before. You had always wanted to wait, back then, before you slept together. You believed you were too young, and San had always respected it.

“Let me know if I hurt you,” you tell him as you take a step closer to him.

He slightly leans back, furrowing his eyebrows. “What do you plan to do with those that might hurt?”

You roll your eyes, playfully, before taking the two other steps leading to right in front of his legs. You notice that they are slightly parted, allowing you to come closer, and you take a steadying breath before reaching between you, pulling at the fabric of his tank top.

“Stay still and you shouldn’t get hurt,” you whisper, ignoring the heaviness of his piercing gaze on you.

It burns right through you, and you have to tame the beats of your heart at the feeling of the warm skin of his shoulder against the back of your fingers as you bring your other hand forward, until you’ve started cutting his shirt.

It’s stuck to his side where blood has dried, and he winces but remains still and silent as you keep going, pulling on it a little harder to be able to cut. The moment stretches into infinity, because you can’t help but take your time. It reminds you of how you’d used to run your fingers on his back, under his shirt, when you napped in the field in the summertime. In an idyllic world where gangs and violence and war were mere inventions of the media, and not a reality that surrounded you.

You’d loved the field. The wildflowers, the open air, the way it was just you and him and a few lazy bumblebees as clouds lazily crossed the sky above. You were so young then, so innocent. Hands unstained from blood, from his blood.

Because as you cut, the hand touching his shirt stains with blood. You pale at the sight of it, but you keep going, pushing through until you’re done, gently pulling the fabric from his body until he’s sitting there, shirtless, with a long wound on his ribs.

You can’t help but notice his toned chest and the defined abs on his stomach. Though blood mars his skin, turning it into a piece of violence, Choi San is still beautiful. Beautiful in a dark, dangerous way that has you glance outside, making sure no one is looking.

But the streets are empty, void of life at this time of the night. At least, they mostly always are.

“You will need stitches,” you state again as if you both don’t know already.

“I can’t…”

An idea forms in your brain. It’s a stupid idea, and you don’t even know why it crosses your mind.

Your uncle has a hunting cabin far in the woods. He’s a nurse himself, and he’s always kept everything over there in case someone got injured and he had to stitch them up. You haven’t gone in forever, but you still remember the tall trees, the deep forest scent that reminds you of autumn and leaves and grey days spent reading by the fireplace.

You never went hunting, but you did accompany your father when he went, needing an escape from the city once in a while. An escape from a life that was slowly becoming too real.

Your uncle is currently halfway across the country, so you know you’d be alone at the cabin. You glance at your laptop over your shoulder – you have three days off in front of you before your next class on Monday. Indeed, the Friday class is pre-recorded and to watch online in your free time, and you figure you can always watch it some other time.

So you turn towards Choi San, almost surprised that he’s real and he’s still sitting in front of you, honey skin cut open on his ribs.

“I might know a place where you can go,” you admit, with a small voice, surprising both you and him. Because you doubt he expects you to want to help, after tonight.

“What?” he asks.

“My uncle’s cabin,” you remind him, because you’ve told him about it all those years ago. “He should have all that I need to stitch you up.”

San looks down at himself. “You’ve just cut my shirt open.”

It sounds a little dumbfounded, and you can’t help the nervous laugh that falls from your mouth. Because even though it doesn’t look too deep, the wound still is terrifying in and of itself.

“I’ll bandage it,” you whisper. “Before we go.”

He seems like he ponders for a time. You watch the debate across his features, his eyes falling to a spot on your chin. He looks sad, troubled and defeated. “I can’t… I can’t do this to you.”

You ignore his words, carefully washing his side. You avoid the cut and try to be as gentle as you can, but his muscles still flex as he clenches his fists from the pain.

He’s strong. That much hasn’t changed. Because he doesn’t make any sound as you finish washing him and then patch him up with those same careful hands. And when you move to his face, cleaning the blood, his eyes flutter shut, and he sighs softly.

He looks so much like he looked then that your heart aches, and you find yourself blinking away tears for this man who’s had it so rough he believed joining a gang would save him.

“I should have come to you before,” he murmurs. “You’re much gentler than Hongjoong.”

You don’t know the guy he mentioned, and you don’t feel like asking. Don’t feel like acknowledging his words, so you just finish with his cheek before stepping away from the peaceful aura that was treacherously pulling you in.

Like all those years ago, you reckon.

“Let me make a call,” you say, turning away from him as you move to the counter. You feel the weight of his eyes between your shoulder blades as you get your phone from next to your laptop. You call your boss, and as someone that’s never called in sick before, you feel anxiety flush through you.

Because you’re not sick. And how could you tell him that you need to take care of your ex-boyfriend of eight years ago?

Seokhyun picks up on the first ring, voice groggy with sleep when he mutters, “Hello?”

“Boss,” you greet him. You scrape your throat and spare a look towards San who’s watching you curiously. “An emergency came up, and I have to leave the diner.” You swallow the lump in your throat that’s formed from lying, and then you add, “There haven’t been any customers all night, so I was wondering… would you be comfortable with me closing for the rest of the night?”

Your boss says your name, a little reproachfully. But then he sighs, because he knows just as well as you what a good employee you’ve always been. “Are you going to be able to come in tomorrow night?” he asks.

You pull at dry skin on your bottom lip, assessing San’s state. You could always come back to the city for work…

“You know what, I know you’ve got that big exam coming up,” your boss says, sighing into the phone. “Why don’t you take the next week off so you can take care of your emergency and focus on your studies?”

If Seokhyun wasn’t a fifty-three year old married and father of three children man, you think you’d ask him to marry you right now.

“That would be really helpful,” you tell him, gratitude dripping from your voice. “Are you sure that won’t be a problem for the diner?”

“The diner won’t lose profit if it closes for three nights in the week,” he points out. “I’ll see if I can get you replaced for the evening shift on Sunday.”

You thank him again as he grumbles that it’s nothing. He wishes you good luck, and when the line goes silent, you finally meet San’s gaze again.

“All sorted out,” you tell him, offering him a nod. “Let me just close the diner, and then we can go.”

He nods, the ghost of a smile playing on his lips. He observes you as you do so, quickly closing the diner like you’ve done about a hundred times before, though this time you’re far more excited to go. You grab a plastic bag to put away the bloody swabs, and though he groans in pain, San gets up to help you clean the blood that stained the cheap leather of the booth.

Soon enough, you’re ready to go, and you walk outside with the plastic bag in one hand and your backpack on your shoulders as San chuckles, looking down at himself.

“Do you have a shirt for me?” he asks as he follows you out.

You lock the door behind you before glancing at him. He’s quite the sight, naked from the waist up and bandaged like he is, and you can’t help the small chuckle you let out as you glance towards your car, that’s luckily parked right in front.

Though it’s a deadbeat car, you trust it enough to know it’ll make the trip to your uncle’s cabin, even in the middle of the night.

“My ex left some sweaters on the back seat,” you admit as you unlock your car doors and open the trunk to put your backpack and the plastic bag in there. There’s no chance in hell you’ll leave a plastic bag full of bloody swabs near your work.

You see San nod from the periphery of your vision, and then he’s opening the door to the backseat. “Your ex, huh?” he mutters as he grabs a sweater you used to love wearing and that you haven’t convinced yourself to give back to Hyunmin.

He carefully puts it on, and you’re pretty sure just the motion is going to make blood seep through the bandage. Somehow, you don’t care that it might stain Hyunmin’s sweater.

Hyunmin was a cheater, and even though you never really loved him, it took you months before you found the strength to break up with him. Needless to say, he doesn’t deserve his clothes back.

“Yeah,” you flatly say as you move towards the driver’s seat. You sit, and San follows you, naturally, as if you’ve done it a thousand times before.

As you turn the keys in the engine, San asks, “Have you dated a lot?”

You bristle at the question, shooting him an embarrassed look. “Have you?”

“No,” he replies, features fully serious.

You purse your lips, focusing on the road as you start driving. You need to put gas in the car if you want to get to your uncle’s cabin, so you make your way towards the closest one. It takes you a moment before you register how San has stiffened next to you.

“Can we…” he trails off, and he sinks in the seat, trying to hide. “I can’t be seen here.”

You immediately press on the accelerator, and your car speeds down the street as you pass in front of the gas station. You glance at San only when you’re stopped at a red light. He’s pulled the hood of the sweater over his features, and he’s doing his best to hide.

“Where can we stop?” you ask.

“Next town over,” he answers. “I just can’t be seen in Bangtan territory.”

Right. You have no knowledge of how the gangs have divided your city, but you’re not surprised Bangtan has this part of town. It’s the industrial area, and you assume there’s a lot of money to be made around here.

“Sounds good,” you gently say, and then you’re driving again, the light turning green, allowing you to speed away into the night.

You drive silently all the way to the next town, watching your city disappear to be replaced by trees until buildings reappear. San is looking outside the window, and you can’t help but wonder how he’s been doing, truly. How he managed to get injured like he is right now, and mostly, if his dreams of running away still occupy his thoughts.

He had begged you, the evening you had broken up with him. Told you he’d make enough money to be able to move with you across the country and build yourself a nice little life over there. You had wanted to believe him for so long, until your parents had opened your eyes on just how he was trying to make money.

“Do you need anything?” you ask as you finally reach the gas station, pulling into the driveway. You park next to a pump, turning to face him only to find him already watching you.

“I don’t have money to pay for food,” he admits. He shuts his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose. “I lost my wallet in the… altercation.”

You gently put a hand on his forearm. “Hey, my treat. We have to eat.”

He inhales deeply, letting out the breath slowly, before he nods. “Alright. I owe you.”

You reckon he’ll owe you for a lot more than just food at a gas station, but you choose not to say it. Not when you feel like someone’s watching over your shoulder, watching you drive away in the night with the person they are looking for.

You know it’s paranoia. No one followed you out of the city and into this town. It just feels too strange to have him here, with you. In your car, on the way to your uncle’s cabin, as if eight years have gone out the window. As if you can still be young and innocent.

It’s stupid, because you can’t. Time has changed him; time has changed you. And in just a few years you’ll be a doctor, and you’ll finally get out of this hellhole of a city, of its dangerous streets.

Of its equally dangerous man, that you know could probably pull you back in with one of his many well-crafted lies, one of the dreams he weaved expertly, whispering it into your ear.

You take a deep breath before getting out of the car. You go into the station, grab snacks for the next few days and then head to the counter. The guy behind nods as you approach, and you pay for the food and for gas before wishing him a good night and returning outside. San is still squatting in the car, clearly trying to hide, and you put the food on the backseat before putting gas in.

You watch his profile as you put gas in the car. Back when you were dating, his features weren’t as sharp, as glass-cutting as they now are. He used to sport a rounder face, but today you wonder if you’d get a papercut on his jaw. You wouldn’t even be surprised.

When you’re done with gas, you sit back next to him, and you quickly bring the engine back to life before pulling out in the street. As soon as you exit the city, darkness falls on the two of you, tall trees standing on the two sides of the road again. San doesn’t speak much, and it doesn’t take you long to realize he’s dozing off next to you.

“Hey, everything okay?” you ask, suddenly worried that he might have lost too much blood. Which, you reckon, you should have thought about earlier.

He sighs, glancing towards you. “Just tired.”

“Don’t…” you trail off. “Don’t fall asleep.”

He chuckles. “You’re afraid I’m going to die on you?”

“Choi San,” you warn. “Don’t you dare say stuff like that.”

He smiles, but you reckon he’s a little pale. Or at least you think he is, in the silver light of the moon up above. “I think I’m fine. Just…” He offers you a weak smile, though you’ve returned your attention on the winding road. “Just exhausted. I haven’t slept in three days.”

Worry clutches your heart, and you nibble at some dry skin on your bottom lip. “What’s been going on?”

He slightly shrugs. “I can’t tell you. I don’t want to put you in danger…”

“Am I not already in danger by just helping you?”

The silence is telling enough. And it remains for a while until San finally speaks.

“I was in a gunfight a week ago. Accidentally shot the youngest member of the other gang. He didn’t make it, and the gang has put a bounty on my head. Ateez took my gun and told me to run; I laughed in their face and said I wasn’t a coward. Then I got attacked by two guys with knives earlier, and I made it to the diner because I had nowhere else to go.”

Now the silence is deafening, heavy, and you think you’ve altogether stopped breathing. You’re struck with an image of San in the summer sun, smiling wide as he put a flower behind your ear, claiming you were the most beautiful girl he had ever met. The contrast with who he is now – a product of night, shrouded in darkness with no hint of that smile on his lips – is stark. And you wonder when’s the last time he has seen the sun, when’s the last time his life wasn’t violence like this.

When you say nothing, he scoffs, resting his head against the window as if it’d allow him to escape. Because clearly he wants to escape – he’s just told you that he’s killed someone after all.

And you don’t know what to say. Don’t know how to react to someone confessing murder. All you can do is stare at the street ahead, hoping you won’t end up in a gunfight with San. Because where would that lead you, other than in the dramatics of death?

You don’t speak for the rest of the ride. You don’t think he sleeps either, and dawn is clinging to the far horizon when you get to your uncle’s cabin, in a secluded forest that seems straight out of a fairytale. Instead of bringing you awe like it usually does, the sight of it makes you think of all the murder mysteries you had been obsessed with when you were younger, before you realized how horrible the real world truly is.

Neither of you move, as you turn off the engine of the car, and you fall into even more of a tensed silence, though this time you can hear the chirping of the early birds. It’s peaceful, so peaceful you can barely even grasp how tangible the presence of San is next to you. The presence of his actions too, looming between the two of you like a sword of Damocles.

You move first. Putting a hand on the knob, hoping to escape the heaviness into the dawn. San speaks before you can though, and your heart stops in your chest.

“I never meant for him to get hurt,” he murmurs, and you think he’s speaking to himself more than to you. “Everything went too fast, my gun was in my hand and I just… in situations like these, you don’t have time to think.” He leans his head against the headrest, eyes closing. “All I can picture since it’s happened is him falling and blood. Like a fucking blossoming rose, all around him.” He rests his closed fist on his forehead, rubbing it hard. “I haven’t been able to sleep; I’ve been sick every time I’ve tried to eat…”

“San,” you interrupt as you break and break for him. Because this is the San you know. This is the young boy that just wanted to escape and live in a better world. You can almost taste his remorse, taste his regret and shame. It’s poisonous, treacherous, a slippery slope that can’t lead anywhere good. “Let’s get you in. I want to get that cut on your ribs checked.”

He falls silent, and for a moment you feel guilty. Because what if he had more to say? You don’t even think you would have been able to listen. You need the escape, and you know he’ll permit it. Because the man next to you is a broken man, a fracture of what he could have been.

You step out of the car, blinking away tears – from the anxiety, from the exhaustion, and perhaps even from the pain you feel for him. He follows you, wincing as he swings his legs out of the car. He stumbles a little as he stands, but soon enough, he grows steady on his feet, and his attention moves to you. You climb the stairs of the cabin, lifting the rug to find the small trap that leads to the spare key. The padlock is rusted, but it stands strong as you put in the code, and a click is heard when you pull on it.

A few seconds later, you’ve unlocked the front door, pushing it open to reveal the cabin as you remember it. Not a single item is out of place, though dust covers everything, a clear indication that no one has been here in years. You let San in, before going back to the car to get the food you bought, bringing it in and putting it in the fridge. Three full gas canisters hide under the counter, and you sigh in relief – you’ll be able to get the generator on for some electricity.

You motion to the kitchen table. “Have a seat,” you tell San, who somehow looks like a lost puppy. “I’ll get the first aid kit.”

He nods, remaining silent, eyes downcast. You only move when he’s seated, heading to the bathroom area of the cabin, where you startle a spider that almost makes you scream out loud. You keep it in, heart beating out of your chest as you get the kit before moving back into the main area.

San is leaning against the chair, eyes closed. He senses you approaching, and one of his eyes cracks open to watch you carefully, a little like he did earlier, at the diner. It looks so similar to how he used to look at you, when you joined him at the field, that you stop in your tracks, heart squeezing once again.

You don’t like the way Choi San is making you feel, that’s for sure.

“Take off the sweater,” you tell him, putting the kit down on the table. You put some clean linen next to it, to put what you need over it, before washing your hands with the disinfectant you find in the kit. You put latex gloves on after, and then you fish wire and a surgical needle from the first aid kit that you carefully put down on the linen once you’ve torn the packages open.

As you were doing all of that, San took off the shirt, struggling a little as it meant he had to lift his right arm, which pulled at the skin of his ribs, where the cut clearly has started bleeding again. Though, if you’re honest to yourself, you’re pretty sure he’s been bleeding this whole time, even though it probably was just some fine rivulets.

Indeed, the cut isn’t all that deep, you remind yourself. Mostly because you don’t want to even think about the consequences of the blood loss. As long as he stays awake, you figure he’s fine – he would have lost consciousness a while ago if he was losing a lot of blood.

You remove the bandage you had carefully put in place earlier, wincing at the sight of the blood that’s seeped through it. San keeps his eyes close, lets you clean his skin again in peace, and you feel sick to your stomach as you realize you don’t have any anesthetics for the pain that stitching him up will cause. Indeed, the pocket in which your uncle usually leaves the lidocaine is empty, and you remember that he’s had to use it for your dad when he accidentally cut himself with a machete last summer.

“Huh,” you let out. You chuckle nervously. “It’s going to hurt like a bitch.”

His eyes narrow, and he clenches his jaw. “Don’t worry about it.”

You worry at your bottom lip, holding his gaze as you gauge if he’s serious. When his gaze doesn’t falter, you offer him a curt nod, before getting the wire and needle ready under his watchful eyes.

You hand him some linen. “To bite on,” you explain as he just cocks an eyebrow quizzically. That makes his gaze widen a little as if he’s just now realizing how serious you were about it hurting, but he takes it nonetheless.

You think about the theory of how to stitch someone up. It was in your previous block – you watched hours of videos of it in an attempt to desensitize yourself to it. You don’t think it compares to the real thing, but at least you’re somehow confident of what you’re doing when you start.

San startles, groaning in pain, and you offer him a glare. “Don’t move, or it’ll be worse.”

A drop of sweat rolls down his temple, but he still nods. Even as you keep on stitching him, he remains as still as he physically can, though you don’t think he even notices how he’s trembling. Or maybe that’s you – you don’t even know.

Somehow, you make it through the whole thing. You think San might have passed out at some point, but he’s wide awake when you finish the knot to keep the stitches in place, looking up to meet his face.

He’s panting and tears of pain wet his waterline. He blinks them away as he takes the linen out of his mouth, dropping it on the table.

“Fuck,” he curses.

“Let me…” you trail off, mind set on getting something to at least help him cool off, because he’s clearly been heating up.

You grab a washcloth and a small bucket, and head outside to walk down to the lake. You fill the bucket halfway, and take a few seconds to observe the calm surrounding you, hoping that it can ease the nerves rolling inside your heart like dark clouds do on the horizon whenever a storm is coming. You feel it in your bones – you have a murderer in your uncle’s cabin.

You have to keep that in mind. To not let Choi San in like you did when you were a young impressionable teenager.

You sigh, closing your eyes to breathe in the fresh morning air. The sun is peaking over the horizon now, and you bask in its hesitant rays for all of twenty seconds before you convince yourself to go back in. You’ve got a patient to take care of, after all.

San hasn’t moved an inch while you were outside. The only indication that he hasn’t died on you is the groan he lets out as you put the wet washcloth on his forehead. You tap his cheek gently, as if to say, ‘suck it up, I’m just trying to take care of you’.

Which is exactly what you’re doing, isn’t it?

You watch him carefully for a few seconds before tapping his shoulder this time around.

“There’s a bed,” you remind him. “You’d be better passing out in a bed.”

He groans again, cracking an eye open. “I’ve just been repeatedly poked with a needle,” he drawls. “Give me a second.”

It makes you laugh. Because of the nerves, maybe. You’re not quite sure. All you know is that you’re laughing, and San opens his second eye to look at you as if you’re crazy. And you laugh for longer than you should – you’re exhausted after all, especially considering you haven’t slept since yesterday morning. So far, adrenaline has been keeping you going, but you can tell you’re about to crash.

“Sorry,” you apologize once you calm down. “This has just been…”

“A lot,” San finishes for you. “I know.”

You nod once before glancing at the doorway to the bedroom. It has no door, as your uncle and your dad usually come here alone and they don’t mind sharing a bed. It makes you realize that you’ll have to share it with San, which you reckon you should have thought about before. Because there’s no way in hell you’ll share a bed with him, especially after he’s told you why he’s being hunted.

There’s always the option of going into town later today so you can get a sleeping bag and floor mat to sleep on. But you’re far too tired right now to even consider driving, so you motion to the bed once again.

“Stick to your side; I’ll stick to mine.”

He smirks though he’s extremely pale. A lot paler than he was before, and you swallow a sudden lump in your throat. Because what if he dies? What are you supposed to do with him if he dies?

“You’ll have to help me to get to the bed ‘cause I don’t think I can move,” he says once his smirk dies. He curses under his breath. “I’m so pathetic.”

You put your hand on his shoulder again, reassuringly, eyes holding his. “Hey, it’s okay. You’re hurt. Everyone is pathetic when they’re hurt.”

He gulps before nodding once. It takes everything in you not to offer him more comfort because you feel like the slope would tilt forwards far too much if you did. Instead, you help him to get up, wincing as he puts most of his weight on you, clutching his side with one hand. You’re infinitely aware of how his skin is sticky with sweat, but you ignore it as you slowly walk to the bedroom.

You can only hope the stitches will hold because you don’t think he’d be able to withstand another round of them.

You finally reach the bedroom and help San sit on the side of the bed. He sighs, eyes shut tightly, and he doesn’t move for a time. When he does, it’s to stiffly lie down on his side.

“You might want to sleep on your back,” you inform him. “I don’t want you rolling around and messing up the stitches.”

He glares at you, though he looks like he’s already half out of it. You hold his gaze until he gives in, turning on his back with a deep sigh. You arrange pillows around him to make sure he’s not moving, and by the time you’re done, his breathing has already evened out.

For a moment, you just watch him sleep. You see him in the field where young love blossomed like a trillion wildflowers. You can almost breathe his pollen again, can almost feel the softness of his skin under your fingertips.

But he’s not what he used to be. Back then, you felt like you had discovered something new. Love, infatuation, affection, and desire, all in the form of the man sleeping next to you. You’d used to kiss, dance and sing to a song only your souls knew, and now you don’t think you recognize him anymore.

As much as he is him, he’s also but just the ghost of what he was. He’s trouble, danger in the shape of innocence, and you recall his words from earlier. You recall the despair, the regret and sorrow that haunted him after he told you. You can’t let him get to your head.

You reckon sleep might help. Though you’re afraid he’s going to waste away in his sleep, so you set up an alarm every hour, before climbing on the other side of the bed. You don’t pull on the covers, mostly because the cabin is warm, and you can imagine it’s just going to get hotter as the sun goes up and the summer heat slowly sizzles into the countryside.

It’s a good thing you put an alarm on. Because when it rings an hour later, you don’t even remember falling asleep. You’re pretty sure the second your head touched the mattress, you were out to the land of dreams. You groan, mostly because you’ve got a slight headache, but you power through it to make sure San is still breathing.

When you see his chest moving up and down steadily, you let yourself fall back asleep.

This goes on for the whole morning, and you only force yourself to stay up when your phone shows that it’s passed noon. As you had suspected earlier, the cabin has gotten extremely warm, so you force yourself out of bed to open all the windows, and then you use the washcloth from earlier to gently wash San’s face of the sweat.

He doesn’t even flinch in his sleep, but he’s still breathing and for now, that’s all that matters.

You head back to the main room, grabbing a pack of chips from where you had left the food earlier, and then you move outside to sit by the lake. Mostly because you need to put distance between you and San, but also just because the childhood memories of this place have you in their hold, and they’ve decided to make you miss the times when you’d swim around with your cousins before both of them had moved out of town.

One day, it’s going to be you too. You already know where you’d go – on the other side of the country, as far away from here as possible. You just want to forget all about the place you grew up in, and you know that, in a few years, you will have forgotten.

Though you’re pretty sure a certain piercing gaze will haunt you forever, especially after the events of today.

When another hour passes, you head back inside, putting the empty bag of chips in the trash before you check up on San. He’s still asleep, but this time he doesn’t look as pale as he did earlier. You assume it’s going to take him a while before he wakes, so you head to the nearest town to grab more food. Mostly to busy yourself, but also just because you know San will need a place to hide for a lot longer than just the weekend. Might as well make sure you have enough for him to survive a couple of days. In town, you also stop to eat at a small café on a small terrasse in the shade of a few trees, and then you grab the food you think you might need at the grocery store.

It’s the middle of the afternoon when you get back, realizing that you forgot to buy a floor mat. As you spy San, who hasn’t moved an inch since he’s fallen asleep, you figure that sleeping next to him tonight should be fine.

As long as his presence in your vicinity doesn’t drag you down memory lane again.

You bought some meat in town, so you head to the little shack outside where the generator is hiding. There’s a gas canister right next to it – also full – and you busy yourself for the next twenty minutes trying to figure out how to get it started. When it finally rumbles to life, you head back inside to put the meat in the fridge, which has finally come to life.

When you hear a groan, you quickly jog to San’s side, fully expecting to find him awake. Surprisingly, he’s still asleep, and you stay next to him for a full minute, thinking he might groan again, though he remains entirely silent.

If it wasn’t for his chest moving up and down steadily, you’d believe him to be dead. But now that a few hours have passed, you’re pretty positive he’ll make it, though he’s probably going to sleep through the day and possibly through the next one too.

Which leaves you in the most peaceful atmosphere you’ve been in for a while, with the opportunity to study as you listen to the rush of wind in the leaves of the tall trees surrounding the cabin. You sit outside, this time near the fireplace, and you study until your stomach grumbles, indicating that it is time for you to cook.

You cook the meat you’ve bought on the grill outside, feeling thankful that your dad once showed you how to use it. You go back in to grab a bottle of water before you eat, and you’re bent in the fridge when you hear San moan again, and this time it sounds like he’s saying something.

You gently close the fridge, making your way to the bedroom. San hasn’t moved, but his features are creased in a frown, and sweat is rolling down his temples. You wet the washcloth, gently wipe his face, and you’re about to leave when he moans again.

It takes you far too long to realize he’s apologizing. What for, you can’t really tell. Though you remember his troubled eyes this morning, you remember his story, and your heart breaks in your chest.

He’s haunted. You think the ghost of the dead guy will probably haunt him for the rest of his life. And suddenly you’re struck thinking maybe, maybe if you hadn’t broken his heart all those years ago, you could have saved him from the gang.

Maybe you could have opened his eyes.

You still remember the break-up like it was yesterday. You remember the rain, him leaving without once looking back, but mostly you remember the words you had uttered. Ghosts of their own, that feel more real now that he’s come back into your life.

*****

“You’re going to get hurt!” you yelled. “You’ll get hurt, San. What are you thinking?”

He scoffed, shaking his head, and little droplets of water shot all around him. “I’ll be careful. We need the money if we ever want to make it out of this shit town.”

You blinked away tears, folding your arms on your chest as you tried to keep your heart from breaking. Though you reckoned it had broken when your parents had told you what they knew about San. When your father had mentioned Ateez, and you’d truly realized what it meant that he was part of a gang. San, your sweet, soft, and bubbly San, in a gang that had murdered someone just a few weeks ago.

“But that’s not a way to make money!” you screamed, hoping he’d understand. Hoping he’d hear the truth in your words, hoping he’d change his mind before it was too late. “Why don’t you get a part-time job, like me? Then we can go to college and get jobs in a nice city on the other side of the country!”

“It won’t work,” he drawled, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I want to be out soon, not in a few years. I barely even have a roof over my head, Y/n…”

“Come live with me,” you choked out around the lump in your throat.

You both knew fully well that your parents would never let him come near you again.

“I can’t.”

You cried, hiding your face in your hands. You cried thinking of the field where you usually met, thinking about its beauty now fading into ugliness. You thought about the wildflowers, withered and dead as autumn had come. You thought about how you were convinced you knew what love was.

“What’s the point?” you asked then. “What’s the point of putting your life in danger? Life isn’t some sort of a game, Choi San. Worse, what if you have to hurt someone? Do you think you’ll be able to pull the trigger?”

He clenched his jaw, hard. “Do me a favour and stop asking questions.”

You closed your eyes, feeling sick to your stomach. Because it couldn’t be. Not San. Not your smiley San, who’d always weave dandelions crowns with you, as you’d pretend you were a queen and a king of that field you had found. An empty field, an abandoned farmland that was just yours and his to explore. That had been home to your first kiss, and all of those that had followed.

Now you wondered why he had always wanted to meet there in the first place. Was he trying to hide?

"If you love me, you’ll get out while you still can,” you said as your tears suddenly ended.

There was a weird sense of clarity in you, suddenly. You remembered the day you had fallen in love, the moment you had first kissed. You remembered the stars in the sky above, the meteors falling for the two of you. You remembered the music on the radio you had brought. Some Arctic Monkeys song about heartbreak, about moving on and failing to do so. As a joke, when it had ended, you had asked San, “Do you think love is a laserquest?”

His answer had been cryptic, mysterious, things that had made you believe he was the one. “Maybe. Maybe it is, and I’ve shot you in the back while you weren’t looking. Maybe I’m that annoying player that won’t leave you alone.”

“I’ll never find you annoying,” you had replied.

But today, watching the rain rolling down his face like tears, you realized that maybe, maybe you should have seen the warning behind his words. Because this betrayal, it came like he had shot you in the back – you didn’t think you’d be able to recover from it.

The past dwindled away as San spoke again, reminding you of the question you had just asked him. “It’s not a question of love, Y/n. I do love you. But it’s a question of survival.”

You laughed, coldly, and then you said, “You know what? You’re full of shit.”

“Alright then. Do me a favour and tell me to go away.”

“Go away.”

A long silence had lingered between you, voided of that summer warmth that had you falling in love. Like a piece was missing from the contract of you loving him, and him loving you. And you realized, maybe you had never really loved each other anyway.

He nodded once when you didn’t say anything else, before turning away. And you watched him walk away. You watched him thinking he was going to turn around and tell you this was just some twisted joke, the prank of the century. Only, he never turned around, and he disappeared behind the bend in the road, never to be seen again, cracking your heart open and splitting it in half.

*****

The sun sets, like an ending to a dream. You’ve always liked the end – you think if you could choose, you’d want to witness the end of the world. The nostalgia, the beauty of endings… it’s something you understand now that you didn’t understand when you were younger. Because you and San ending, it had led to you focusing on high school. It had allowed you to get in the good college in town, with a scholarship that covered most of your expenses before you made it to med school.

There’s beauty in knowing losing San has allowed you to live out your dreams.

There’s less beauty in knowing that San has been sleeping for almost thirty-four hours now. Last time you checked, he was still breathing, but you’re starting to be afraid that he just won’t wake up. It’s irrational, you know – after the blood loss it makes sense that he’d sleep for a long time.

But it leaves you with far too much time on your hands to think and revisit the past. You’ve been doing it all day – thinking about the fight with your parents that had led to your break-up with San, thinking about that damn rainy evening he had walked away without once looking back. Thinking of the field, of sunshine and star falls and the sweetness of a first kiss. Thinking that, then, you thought you knew what it was like to be in love.

You haven’t dated anyone serious since San. Hyunmin was a distraction for a while, but you never were into it. Not like you were into San. There’s a guy in your class though, that you’ve been chatting with for a couple of weeks. He’s sweet, innocent, and the perspective of a future seems less scary with him around. He’s mentioned he wants to move across the country once too, and since then you’ve started talking more, the similarity of your wishes drawing you closer.

All day today you’ve been feeling like you’re slowly drifting away though. Slowly getting entrapped in a web you’re not sure you’ll be able to walk away from.

You decide to swim, seeking the fresh clarity only cold water can bring to you. You don’t have a swimsuit with you, but since San is half-dead in bed you figure it doesn’t matter. So you strip naked, feet making squelching sounds in the mud by the lake side as you step in the water.

The sharp cold has you holding your breath, but you don’t slow down. You’ve never slowed down in life – when you make a decision, you bring it to completion. And you’ve decided to swim, so swim you will.

The warm summer evening breeze catches in your hair as you take another step forward, the water now lapping at your thighs. You dread the moment it’ll hit your core, knowing that that’s the worst part, but you breathe in deeply, moving forward. Because there’s no moving backwards now.

When the water hits, your eyes flutter shut, and you hold in the wince that threatens to escape the mask of calm your features hold. Soon enough, you get deep enough to swim, and the movements bring welcomed warmth to your limbs as you flop on your back, tits out of the water.

Your uncle’s cabin is the only cabin in a fifteen miles radius. You know you won’t be interrupted, and so you let the water cool you down. Calm you down, hold you in its fresh embrace. It undoes knots in your back that have formed from worrying about San, but also from worrying about college.

From worrying that you will never be enough. You think it’s a normal anxiety to have, something most people must feel as they go through the trials of college, not knowing what to expect on the other side. A nice career, perhaps, though the perspective of failure is there too, looming over the horizon.

You sigh, and your eyes flutter open as your legs move mindlessly under you, making sure to keep you afloat. You look up at the azury ceiling over your head, so far away as it slowly turns gold. Out of touch, out of grasp. You watch the fluffy white clouds that are lazily crossing the sky, turning fiery in the sunset, as if they have all the time in the universe. And you wish you were them, up above. With nothing to worry about.

Without a Choi San on the brink of death lying about twenty meters away from you. You sigh, and you turn in the water, with the purpose of swimming again. Though your gaze catches movement by the cabin, and your head snaps towards it to see none other than the supposedly Choi San, standing on the deck with a hand clutching his side.

You shriek, looking down at yourself. Most of you is hidden, but you don’t know how long he’s been there. Don’t know if he’s seen you naked as you looked up at the sky.

He doesn’t move, only watches you where you’re swimming.

“Can you please look away?” you say from the water, and he has the nerves to lean against the railing, eyes still boring into where you’re swimming. You think his gaze might be so hot the water will boil, and it startles you into action.

You start walking out of the water, pointing towards the door. “You shouldn’t be up, Choi San.”

“I feel fine,” he says as you take another step forward, and the water barely hides your tits anymore.

That makes him turn around, as he offers you a little bit of privacy. You’re quick to get out of the water and wrap yourself in the towel you brought outside, and then you collect your clothes to head back to the cabin. San dutifully keeps his gaze away until you’re climbing the three steps leading to the deck, and it’s then that his eyes trail to you again.

“Thank you for the water,” he says, offering you a tentative smile.

You left water by his bedside earlier today hoping it will coax him to wake up. You’re strangely surprised that it worked.

“You should go sit inside,” you scold him, only half-heartedly. Because seeing him up and about reassures you, somehow.

He cocks an eyebrow, a smile playing at the corner of his lips. “The weather is beautiful, I’d rather sit outside.”

You roll your eyes, but you do let him walk down the stairs to sit by the fireplace while you go inside to take a quick shower and get dressed. You decide to make some food for him, though you know he shouldn’t eat too much right now, after not having eaten for a while. He has to start slowly, and you don’t even know if he’s hungry anyway.

You settle for preparing a cup of chicken noodle soup for him, so at least it isn’t too heavy on his stomach. You bring it to him outside, as he’s just calmly observing the lake.

“Thank you,” he says, voice small as he grabs the cup and the spoon.

You sit next to him, trying not to watch him eat too much. His hair is sticking to his forehead in some places, and you have the distinct thought that he’ll probably need to shower. At least there’s plenty of rain water in the bucket for the water pump.

“What have you been doing while I was out?” he asks.

You spare him a quick glance before losing your gaze in the rocks of the fireplace. “I’ve studied. Checked up on you. Not much honestly.”

He chuckles. “I’d argue that caring for someone is a lot.”

You glance at him, cheeks burning at the sight of his teasing smile. “Not really.”

He chuckles again, but doesn’t say anything more before eating another spoonful of soup. He’s almost done with the cup when he actually does speak, asking, “How long was I out?”

“A day and a half,” you answer. “I’m actually surprised you haven’t slept longer.”

You can hear the smirk in his voice when he says, “I’m made of tough stuff.”

You snicker, but you don’t say anything, just focusing on where you’re kicking at the dirt. When he’s done with the cup, he puts it down on the ground next to him, before sitting back in the chair. He stretches out his legs in front of him, sighing deeply.

“I still feel out of it,” he admits, and you meet his gaze.

“You can sleep more,” you tell him. “I’d just like to check on the…”

You don’t even have to finish your sentence. He immediately turns so his side is to you, and you have to admit you’ve done a perfectly good job with the stitches.

“So?” he asks.

“All good.” You pat his shoulder. “You can sit comfortably again.”

He’s smiling when he does so, and his gaze wanders to the lake once again. “I’m sorry I…” he trails off, and he chuckles softly. “I’m sorry I interrupted your little swim earlier.”

You have the decency to flush furiously red, and you shrug your shoulders. “No worries, I wasn’t expecting you to be up so soon.”

You fall in a comfortable silence, surprisingly so. Rare stars dot the darkening sky up above, and all that can be heard for a moment is the flap of a bird’s wing as it moves from branches to branches in the trees by the water. The breeze picks up as you watch the little bird, and the leaves dance, loudly so. You’d think it’d be deafening in the silence between you and him, but it’s strangely reassuring.

As if, after all, you found your way back to the field. Only this time it’s completely different, as if decades have passed between you. At least, that’s how it feels like.

You notice San has dozed off in the chair next to you when you were about to speak to him again. To ask him how he’s truly been, in the years between then and now. Hoping to avoid mentioning what led to him coming to you, yesterday, a whole eternity ago.

You watch him, heart aching in your chest. Aching to reach out and brush his hair away from his forehead, aching to heal the cut on his cheek with a gentle swipe of your fingers. If only medicine was so simple…

It seems the peace of the early evening wasn’t going to stay around, because you notice dark clouds rolling in the distance, streaks of lightning cutting through them. Slowly inching closer, menacingly so, and you gently wake San up with your hand on his wrist.

He startles awake, hand shooting to his waist, finding nothing there. It startles you, and you both stare at each other for a moment until you realize what he was looking for.

His gun.

“San…” you let out and he runs his hand through his hair, eyes falling shut as he breathes in and out raggedly.

“Sorry.”

“San, I’m so sorry.”

He doesn’t open his eyes, refuses to let you see the vulnerability you glimpsed behind his piercing gaze. Refuses to acknowledge that he’s terrified, deadly so.

“Let’s go in,” you tell him, softly. Because you’re afraid you’ll spook him, when he’s clearly been living in fear long enough. “There’s a storm coming.”

He nods, carefully getting up without sparing you a glance. He heads inside, hand clutching his side again, while you pick up the chicken noodle soup cup before following him.

You’ve refilled the generator before swimming, so you know it’s been charging the batteries for a while now. You don’t fear ending up in the dark with San, and there’s also always the option of using the lamps and candles your uncle always leave here in case of an emergency.

The storm doesn’t roll in until a little later. You’ve forced San to put a shirt on – mostly so your eyes would stop betraying you, dropping to his toned body whenever he talked to you. You’re currently sitting on the couch, and as the rain starts, hammering against the window behind you, you pull your legs to your chest, wrapping your arms comfortably around them.

“How hard do the storms hit here?” he asks, eyes trailed to the world outside.

You follow his gaze, right as wind picks up to make the water hit the window even harder, creating a cacophony that forces you to speak louder for him to hear. “Pretty hard.”

He nods, and he glances once at you. “Fun.”

You smile, because you’ve always liked storms. Have always found them electrifying, energizing.

“Do you remember when we used to go to the field when it rained?” San asks, taking you by surprise.

Making your heart clench so hard in your chest you have to take a wobbly breath in. If he notices he doesn’t say.

“We were always in that field,” you remind him. “No matter the weather.”

It’s his turn to smile fondly. “It got so pretty with all the wildflowers. But you were afraid of the bees.”

“Bees are scary!” You laugh, and he echoes it with a soft chuckle. “You’re the one that almost pissed yourself when we saw the rat.”

That makes him laugh, and he winces in pain clutching his side. “Gosh, is it supposed to keep on hurting like this?”

It douses your enthusiasm and your smile falls. “Well, it was a solid cut.”

His eyes get lost in the void as he takes on a wistful expression. “I’m surprised I didn’t die.”

You gulp, watching his profile carefully. “It wasn’t deep enough for that…” you trail off, even though you spent most of yesterday and today being convinced he’d die. “At least they didn’t… stab you.”

“They would have if… Wooyoung didn’t shoot.”

You remain silent, not knowing what to reply to that. San interprets that as discomfort, and he quickly adds, “He didn’t shoot them. Just… in the air. It attracted the police.”

You remember the cars zooming past the diner a lifetime ago, and you nod your head. “I heard.”

He seems surprised, and his gaze finally finds yours again. “You did?”

“Yeah.” You chuckle, a little awkwardly. “I hear a lot of shootings, in the diner.”

His eyes widen, mouth falling open cutely. “You do?”

You don’t know what he expected. The diner is right between Ateez and Bangtan territory, and as much as it is a safe space, it is also near enough to dangerous grounds, and you’ve heard plenty of shooting in your time working there.

“Always,” you admit. “It can get scary sometimes… but you also get used to it.”

He looks sad. Infinitely so, like a lost puppy. That’s when the first thunder hits, so sharp and sudden you startle. Not quite as much as San, who ducks, wincing in pain as he clutches his side.

“Shit,” he curses. “Sorry.”

“What’s wrong?” you ask, in time with another thunderclap, though this time it’s more of a rumble.

You watch his chest as he breathes in and out quickly. “Just… fuck.”

Now, concern grows in you, and you gently put a hand on his shoulder. “San…”

He meets your gaze, and there’s so much white in his it makes you think of a terrified prey. And then it clicks: he thought it was a gunshot.

“Hey,” you quickly say, moving closer to him. You’re on the side of the stitches, so you still keep a safe distance between the two of you, but you grab his hand nonetheless. “You’re okay.”

“Fuck,” is all he’s able to say.

“I promise, no one’s going to find you here.”

He remains silent this time around, eyes still boring into yours. You take that as a cue to continue, because you don’t want him to panic. You want his thoughts here, with you, and not miles away in a city he should have escaped from years ago. You wish he had, knowing the atrocities that he would have avoided.

Would he have escaped with you, had you stayed just a little longer?

“I killed someone,” he says, and you balk at the silver lining his gaze. “I fucking killed him.”

You don’t know how to help. All you can think to do is cup his cheek, right as he starts breathing even faster. “Breathe with me, San.”

He doesn’t say anything, but his eyes fall to your mouth. You make a good show of inhaling slowly, before exhaling even slower. It takes him a moment but he eventually follows your lead.

It breaks when there’s another sharp thunderclap, and he flinches, eyes shutting instinctively.

“Hey hey hey,” you say again, even more gentle, softer than before. You move even closer, and when a tear slips out of his closed eyes, you pull him into a hug, careful not to brush his side.

His head falls on your shoulder, and one of his arms wrap around your waist. A thunderclap later, he starts sobbing, fist balling the fabric of your shirt in his tight hold, and you let him do it. You let him hold onto you, hoping it’ll keep him here with you. Hoping it’ll keep him afloat during the storm that’s raging both outside and in his mind.

“It’s going to be okay,” you breathe, and you feel like you’re lying to him.

Because how can he ever be safe from the ghosts inside of his skull? The ghosts wandering the halls of him, tainting his soul with their presence?

“He’s never going to smile again,” San chokes out. “Everyone loved him. Even in Ateez… Jungkook was the best of us. The only one who had a shot at getting out of it.”

You don’t know how good he could have been, if he was a member of Bangtan. In your mind, you’d always seen Bangtan as the bad guys, mostly because they weren’t with San. Even when you had been struggling to evade that life, you’d still rooted for him.

It’s strange how you just realize that now, as you’re holding him while he breaks.

“You didn’t mean to kill him,” you remind San, still speaking with the calmest voice you can muster up. “You didn’t want to, San. You’re not a murderer.”

“I’m still a killer,” he says. He sounds angry, and you reckon he might be angry at himself. Might be consumed with his actions, dragged to hell before his time as his mind gets stuck replaying the events.

“Maybe,” you answer. “But,” you quickly add when he stiffens in your arms. “But you can spend the rest of your life making up for it. Repenting.”

He doesn’t respond right away, as he breaks some more, sobs rocking through him. You’ve never seen him like this, not even when you were younger and in love. It makes your gaze wet, yet you hold on strong for him. You keep your head held high, and you allow him to break in the safe haven that your arms represent.

Because to him, you’ve never been tainted. You’ve always been the ideal he was trying to pursue, albeit the wrong way.

“I don’t know how to repent,” he admits when he calms down. He turns his head, and his nose brushes along the skin of your neck, slightly tickling you. You ignore the feeling, especially as he adds, “Ateez… it’s all I’ve ever known.”

You run a hand on his back, soothingly. “It isn’t.”

Because there was you, too. There was the summer field and the twinkling stars and Artic Monkeys on the radio. There was the two of you, petal-soft kisses exchanged in the dead of night and in the brightness of day. There were rainy days, and then there was rain. There was him walking away, and you hate yourself then.

You wish you had stopped him that day, had kept him from going on to become what he’s become now. A person he clearly hates, someone that has a bounty on his head. Someone that doesn’t even believe they’re allowed redemption and you reckon you don’t even know if he is.

You only know that seeing him break is bending your will, the way the wind outside is bending the trees. All you can hope is that, like the tall trees, you won’t break.

*****

The storm calmed down sometime around midnight. San ended up falling asleep on the couch, as you’d reassuringly ran your hand through his hair, trying to keep him with you. Though you think he’s been slipping through your fingers, into his demons.

You’ll find a way to bring him back. You have to. Turns out it comes faster than you think, as the electricity runs out and you busy yourself with lighting some candles throughout the main room. When you’re done, you put a blanket over him, and you almost let out a startled scream as his eyes shot open.

“Hello,” you say, resting a hand on your heart to tame the wild beats.

You’re about to move away, but he grabs your hand, forcing you to sit next to him. You don’t really resist, though you think you probably should. You’re weak – weaker still when he murmurs your name.

“San,” you whisper in return, and you’re aware your voice carries too much longing. Longing for a past when life’s atrocities hadn’t changed either of you yet.

“I’m so sorry,” he apologizes, and a tear rolls on his cheek.

You dry it, fingers lingering there. “It’s okay.”

“Angel…”

The nickname brings you back to laser quests and favours and warmth creeping up your stomach for the first time in your life.

“I’m no angel,” you breathe.

“You saved me.”

You hold his gaze. There’s something hiding behind his pupils. The need, to forget. You don’t think you have the ability to run his mind through amnesia, but still you brush his cheek again.

“You deserved saving.”

His eyes glaze once more, though this time no tears fall. “It’s hard to believe it.”

“Do you still believe love is a laser quest?” you ask him, out of the blue.

As if you’re a line straight of that Arctic Monkeys song you listened to the first time you kissed.

“Maybe,” he says, a parallel to that first time you had asked the question. “Maybe it is.”

You can’t resist. You lean down, and you press the gentlest kiss on his lips. His are dry, but the way he sighs with you against him is soft, for your heart and for your mind, and you kiss him again. He lets you lead, follows the dance of your lips, lets you run your hand through his sweaty hair.

Even if you shouldn’t. Even if you know everything you’re doing right now is a mistake, you still find yourself deepening the kiss, opening your lips to slip your tongue out, teasing his mouth. One of his hands finds your thigh, and he squeezes ever so slightly as his tongue finds yours, and you let out a breathy sound.

When you pull away, eyes fluttering open, you find San’s gaze. You think about the boy he was then, the girl you were then. You think about who you were, together. And when he says, “Please make me forget”, you lean again, capturing his mouth in a languid kiss.

For a reason unknown, the summer sky and falling stars pale in comparison to this kiss. Maybe because it holds longing, nostalgia. Hope that life would have turned out differently. For a moment, you picture what it would have been like, without Ateez. With you and him in the field, in your family house, in a car driving by the beach, windows down as the sun sets and you sing along to the radio, wind blowing in your hair.

You see a whole life there, with you and him marrying in the field, under the sun that had been the host of your first love. You imagine growing up by his side, attending college with him in the big city. You imagine how he would have become the owner of his own construction company, like his dad before him. You picture kids laughing, running around the house he would have built for you. You see Christmas light, late nights antics by the firelight.

You see it all, and you know you’ll never have any of it. But if you can have tonight, then you’ll grab it before it slips through your fingers. Before he walks away in the rain again, only to be a memory you cherish in the deepest corners of your heart.

“How?” you ask him when you pull away.

Mostly, you’re asking how to make him forget. But you’re also asking how it is that the feelings are still there, even stronger now, as if they’ve grown up with you, yet haven’t changed like you have. Like they are a constant of an ever-changing universe.

“Kiss me again,” he asks, begs, and you give in. You kiss him wildly, always making sure not to touch his side and the stitches.

You know sex would be a stupid idea, especially with the fresh stitches. But also because he’s barely had time to recover. But he doesn’t really give you a choice, pulling you on top of him until you’re straddling him.

You sit back on him for a second, eyes trailing to the spot where you know the stitches are. “This isn’t a good idea,” you whisper through the ragged breaths caused by the ministrations of his mouth on yours and of yours on his.

“I’m fine,” he says, and you know you shouldn’t believe him. But when he pulls you down again, large hand holding the nape of your neck firmly so you don’t escape, you want to believe him.

Want to believe the beauty of his lies, like you had when you were younger.

From where you’re perched, you can feel the start of his erection pressing against you, and you moan softly in the kiss, rolling your hips. His mouth falls open, and you capture his tongue, sucking on it once before you pull away, leaving hot kisses on his jaw.

“Sit on my face,” he says, and he sounds out of his mind. Crazed, a little like you too feel at the moment.

“What?”

“Can’t get hurt if you sit on my face, angel,” he explains, and then hisses when you suck a hickey on his neck.

You let him pull your shirt off, unclasping your bra yourself as you sit back on his lap. He cups your breasts, rolling your erect nipples between his thumbs and indexes. You moan again, grinding your hips into his, and he hisses once more.

“You want to taste me?” you ask, head throwing back as he pinches your nipples hard.

“I’d fuck you, but you’re the doctor. Can’t risk fucking up my stitches, huh?” he replies, voice low and husky.

Your core heats up, pussy clenching around nothing. This is a side of him you’ve never seen, though you spy desperation beneath it. Like he thinks he doesn’t have forever, when it comes to you.

He’s right. Because tomorrow, you’ll have to go back into town, into the hellscape you call home. What will be left of the two of you then?

So when he tugs at your pants, you give in and get up, taking off your pants and panties in one swift motion. You step out of them, blood heating up by the way he’s looking at you through half-lidded eyes, gaze burning on you.

You have half a thought that you could probably ride him instead of his face, but when you see his pink tongue darting out to wet his lips, making them glisten in the candlelight, you need to know what it’ll feel like against you.

So you straddle his face as he guides you down, large hands pushing on your thighs until your pussy is a hairsbreadth away from his lips. He blows on it, and your eyes shut with sensitivity. You clutch the cushion of the couch, hoping it’ll help steady you, but the moment his tongue flicks at your clit, you realize nothing will be able to steady you. Yet you still hold onto it, especially as he dives his tongue between your folds, lapping up your juice. He moans in contentment, before moving to your clit again. And his tongue is wicked down there, like it knows exactly what you like.

You grab a handful of his hair, grinding into his face. You’re pretty sure he’s chuckling down there, and then he unleashes himself. Sucking hard, alternating circling motions to teasing you with his teeth. You’d expect the latter to hurt, but the way he does it just makes you see stars, and your pussy clenches around nothing again.

San is deadly good with his mouth. Both with crafting lies and pulling moans out of you, and your thighs tighten against his face as he sucks particularly hard, before dipping his tongue inside of you. His nose brushes your clit, and then he forces you to properly sit on him.

The way his tongue moves inside of you, lapping up your juices while opening you up, has you on the brink of an orgasm in no time. Especially as he makes you grind again, holding you tight into place. When one of his hands moves from around your thigh to reach your clit, you cry out, head throwing back.

He’s quick to rub at your sensitive clit, and you grab one of your breasts, massaging it mindlessly before you pinch your nipple, hard, right in time with a skilled swipe of his tongue. Your orgasm meets you there, shaking through you as it explodes in a blinding flash of light. You moan, loudly, something that resembles his name, and he keeps you going, guides you through your high until you cringe with oversensitivity.

Only then does he let you climb off from his face. You stand on wobbly legs, before deciding to sit next to him, and you catch sight of the smirk on his lips. It makes you blush, right as you realize what you’ve just done.

When you realize what kind of sinful activity he’s dragged you in, this time around.

“Gosh,” is all you manage to say.

He chuckles, clearly proud with himself. “That felt good?”

You worry at your bottom lip, eyes going down to the tent in his pants. You want to pleasure him too, to take him in your mouth and make him feel good, but he stops you with a hand wrapped around your wrist.

“Don’t.”

You still and you meet his gaze with slightly-widened eyes. “Why not?”

His features turn somber, haunted, and the heat of the moment passes so quickly you think it might have been a figment of your imagination.

Were you really riding his face just a moment ago?

“Please just lay next to me,” he says, barely even a whisper.

You don’t know a lot of men that would choose cuddling over getting a blowjob, but if that is what he wants, then you’ll give it to him. You lay next to him, glad that the injured side is closer to the couch. That way, you can cuddle up to him, resting your head on his shoulder while he wraps an arm around you.

“Angel,” he murmurs after a time. “You’re a fucking angel. I think you’re my salvation.”

You highly doubt you hold this kind of power, but you don’t want to tell him. Have never been good at weaving beautiful lies for him to believe.

“We should stay here,” he continues. “Forever.”

And you wish you could. Wish reality didn’t exist, didn’t call for you to go back to your regular life like you’ve never been here with him. But you know tomorrow exists, and you’ll have to leave.

“We should have stayed in the field,” you choose to answer. “Under the shooting stars.”

“I wished for a lifetime with you, then,” he admits. “I wished I’d never have to let you go.”

You’d wished for a similar thing, but life is far too cruel to allow a world of first loves.

“Why did you…” you trail off. The question has haunted your sleepless nights for a long time after the break-up. Even years later, you’d still think about it sometimes, wondering if nostalgia would choke you up. “Why did you decide to join the gang?”

He tenses next to you. But you start tracing a mindless circle on his chest, through the shirt, and it distracts him enough for him to reply. “I thought I didn’t have a choice.”

“Did you?”

His voice holds the weight of the world when he says, “I did. And I made the wrong one.”

You want to cry, but you’re older now. You’re not the teenager who thought she was going to die from losing him anymore. You know what living without Choi San is like, and as much as it hurts, you know that it’s doable.

“You made the one you believed was right,” you say carefully. “But I do wish you had made a different one.”

He holds you a little tighter, as if that will make it so tomorrow never comes. “Me too.”

There’s an eternity of flickering candlelight on the ceiling, of the circles you trace on his chest and of your breathings forming a melody. Outside, the wind has died down, and the world is silent except from an occasional cricket braving the world after the storm.

“Where will you go, once you graduate?” he asks, taking you by surprise.

Because he knows. It’s one of the few things that hasn’t changed.

“As far away from here as I can.”

“I hope you find peace, wherever you go,” he whispers. “I hope you forget all about how we grew up in a hellhole.”

Do you feel bad for saying it? Maybe. But you can’t help saying it anyway. “I will, San.”

And like that rainy day years ago, you think you can see him walk away.

*****

Seven years later

The winter sun is strangely bright, up above. You’d think it will warm you up, but the cold is relentless, violent, and it sneaks into your coat as you walk out of the hospital. You’ve just finished a thirty-hour shift, and you can’t wait to be home.

To take a shower and forget that you’ve lost a patient today.

But you’ve saved another. A young man, with a stab wound in his ribs that should have killed him. But you saved him, stabilized his condition to the point you don’t have to worry about him anymore. Which is the only reason why you’re allowing yourself to leave now.

You’re never able to leave until you know your patients are okay. It’s been that way since your first patient, in a cabin in the woods you’ve done your best to forget.

You’d let San stay, after that weekend. He had given you the number of one of his friends, so you could get some clothes for him, and you’d gone back the next weekend. Bringing him the clothes, making love to him under the moonlight as if that would change the ending.

The following week, you had gone back to find the cabin empty. He’d left a note behind.

I hope I can find you again, wherever you go.

You kept the note. It’s in your bedside table, back at home, in the nice apartment you’ve been able to rent for yourself with all the money you’ve been making now. Enough to pay back student loans from med school, enough to reassure you that never again will you struggle.

You’ve never seen San again after. He hasn’t found you, and you haven’t searched for him. Have only looked up his name a couple of times, in the months following his disappearing, scared you’d find out that he was found dead in a ditch. But his name never came up, and you wondered if he had managed to escape, if he had managed to find a place where Bangtan couldn’t reach him.

You found peace, on your side of the country. Life is kinder here, though it still holds the same atrocities. You wonder if it’s the novelty of the city, or maybe if you’ve just grown old enough to be able to withstand the bad that the world throws your way. It’s hard to tell – you haven’t kept contact with anyone from back home, except Jae-on.

Jae-on, who’s moved with you when you’ve decided to come here, like he said he would. Jae-on, who asked you to marry him in late October, and you said yes. The ring sits heavy on your finger, and you mindlessly play with it.

In another world, you would already be married to Choi San. Sometimes, you catch glimpses of that world – a piercing gaze in the morning, a smile and a kiss to your temple. Talks about angels, children screaming in happiness. In another world, you’d be pregnant again, waiting patiently to add another piece of you and him to this world.

It’s fun to think about, sometimes, but you’ve been good at forgetting. Like you told him you would – most times, you’ve forgotten all about Choi San.

But today, you had a patient that reminded you of him. So you allow yourself to feel, you allow yourself to think about that note tucked in the bottom drawer of your bedside table, hidden under the thick socks you never use.

You allow yourself to think about the cabin in the woods, about the field where you would have gotten married had you been in that picturesque world you like to imagine. You think about laser quests and first kiss and rainy days and meteors. You think about summer, about wildflowers and him.

You’re so lost in thought you miss your stop home, and you begrudgingly get out at the next one. You’re tired, and your hands are shaking as you pull your phone out of your tote bag, wanting to text Jae-on that you’re going to be home late because you missed your stop. You walk to the other side of the tracks, sighing when you see a five-minutes wait for the next subway.

At least the sun is high in the sky, even though it is dreadfully cold. You shiver, putting your phone back in your tote bag so you can hide your hands in your sleeves again, hoping it’ll preserve them from the cold.

In your exhaustion, you forgot your gloves back at the hospital, you realize. It’s strange that you only realize now, and you reckon you really need to sleep, because your brain isn’t even working right anymore.

You sigh, glancing at the display showing the time. Still four minutes to wait. You think at this rhythm you might freeze in your spot before the next subway comes. You try to hide your face in the lapel of your coat, but a movement on the other platform attracts your gaze.

A man is helping an older woman climb down the stairs. She’s speaking loudly, which might be what attracted your gaze in the first place. You follow them as they walk down the stairs, and then when the man turns towards you, you meet his piercing gaze.

He smiles, and you realize that maybe, all those years ago, he was not spinning lies to you after all.

☆☆☆☆☆

Gosh yeahhh rereading it had me ralize that it is a lot sadder than I remembered it to be. At least we got an open ending ... :') What did we think? Should I write about other groups more often? Let me know what you think! All rights reserved to @/oddinary4bts, 2023. Do not copy, repost or translate

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wannab-urs · 5 months

Text

Title: Under Your Skin

Pairing: Jack “Whiskey” Daniels x Javier Peña x F!Reader

Summary: You’ve worked on Chucho’s ranch since you were 15 years old, grew up with Javi, loved Javi… He comes back after nearly 20 years to find you hooking up with a certain former secret agent. He’s jealous, for sure, but of who?

Warnings: mdni, 18+ post season 3 of Narcos, AU where Jack gets kicked out of the Statesmen instead of burgered, Javi being bi and repressed, Jack being a bisexual slut, SMUT, MMF dynamics, oral (f receiving), javi being a dick, oral (m receiving), javi tries to hit jack, gay kissing (!!!), making out, face sitting, reader kinda gets used and likes it, nipple play, throat fucking, Eiffel tower moment, brief f masturbation, brief m masturbation, pet names (sugar, cowboy, baby, hermosa), truly unreasonable amounts of cursing i’m sorry i talk like this, and also unreasonable amounts of southern phrasing, again sorry I talk like this, unprotected PIV, creampie, cum eating, teasing Javi, actually 90% porn with like a little backstory, kind of enemies to lovers, they’re all ranch hands technically, also they’re all romantically into each other but also javi is dumb and jack can’t believe anyone would want him for more than sex haha oops :) WC: 3.5k

A/N: This is my @pedrostories Secret Santa gift to the lovely @javier-pena!! I hope it’s everything you wanted ahhhhh. I hope it's ok that this has nothing to do with Christmas and really doesn't even take place in the winter. I saw that you like Whiskey and Javi P, cowboys , and poly fics and like... could not resist. I tried my hand at enemies to lovers, a trope I love to read, but I think it came out pretty mild. I am so excited for you to read this!!!!! Happy Holidays ❤️

credits: dividers by @saradika // Thanks for the beta @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin, @beskarandblasters, and @idolatrybarbie

Jack Daniels Masterlist | Javier Peña Masterlist | Main Masterlist | AO3 | Kofi

Working on a ranch isn’t easy, and it usually isn’t even all that fun. But it does have its perks. One such perk is currently on his knees with his face buried in your pussy. One of your legs is over Jack’s shoulder and you use it to pull him even closer, grinding your clit on his hooked nose. Just as you’re about to come, the door to the tack room slams open. You and Jack jump apart and you quickly start stuffing your legs back into your jeans.

“For FUCKS sake, Daniels. This is the third time this week. Get back to fucking work.” Javier Peña, face red and chest heaving, looks like he just caught his girlfriend cheating on him. “And you. You should fucking know better.”

You fasten the button of your jeans and smirk at Javi. “Know better than what, Javi?”

“Than to fuck around with some asshole like Daniels.”

“He’s nicer than you,” you snark before storming out, making sure to slam your shoulder into Javi on the way out the door. He ruined a perfectly good orgasm.

You’ve worked on Chucho’s ranch since you were 15 years old, taking care of the horses at first before graduating to fixing the fences and caring for the cattle as well. You and Javi had been best friends before he ran off to Colombia, spending every day after school and every second of daylight in the summer together on his father’s ranch.

You had been in the back pew the day he never showed up for his and Lorraine’s wedding. You like to think you had something to do with that. He clearly, clearly, wanted out of Laredo, wanted nothing to do with the wife and 2.5 kids and picket fence life he was barrelling toward.

His bachelor party was just the two of you drinking in the hayloft, you begging him to do what he’d always wanted to and him going on about duty and obligation. You’d almost kissed him that night, but stopped yourself. He was getting married the next day, for fuck’s sake. You’re glad he listened to you, in the end, even if he disappeared without so much as a goodbye.

In the years he was gone, you never really forgot about him. The truth was that he had been your first love, but you’d never worked up the courage to tell him, and then he was getting married and then he was gone.

Jack looked so much like Javi that when he first showed up on the ranch, you asked if he was Javi’s cousin or something, a long lost Peña. He assured you he was from Kentucky and had no relation to the Peñas. Jack had been some sort of law enforcement, and the reason he was here on a ranch in Texas was a mystery to everyone but him. There were rumors he was fired, banned from law enforcement altogether, but nothing could be confirmed. He doesn’t seem like the type to have a bad past, but you never really know.

Jack is charming in a loud, overly confident sort of way. He’s smart as a whip and funny to boot. He’s a damn good time and he’s never asked anything of you but a good fuck and better company. It’s really more than you could have hoped for with Javi gone and no other prospects in town… that you had any interest in anyway.

Now, nearly a couple decades after he left, Javi is back working for his dad. He won’t talk about Colombia, even though everyone calls him a hero. You’d think he’d want to brag about his accomplishments down there, but he reminds you of war vets, the way he shuts down when anyone brings it up.

He’s different now than the old Javi, your Javi, was. He’s surly, quick to snap at people, smokes like a freight train, and never does anything but sit in the bunkhouse and drink. You think you could handle all the change if he’d just talk to you.

You were so close as kids, but now it’s like you don’t know him at all. The bright, funny, hot-headed kid you knew is gone and some asshole has replaced him. He barely speaks to you at all, but he treats Jack even worse – insinuating Jack can’t do his job, calling him an asshole at any given opportunity, even up and leaving a room when the man walks in. It’s ridiculous and you can’t figure out why he’s acting like this. Jack has never so much as looked at Javi sideways, even after all the harsh treatment.

You head to your room in the bunkhouse, all your work taken care of for the day already. It’s not like you were neglecting your job to hook up with Jack, as much as Javi might like to think that. You push open the door to your room and find Jack lounging in your bed, shirtless and barefoot.

“Hey there, pretty girl,” Jack smiles at you, his eyes scrunching at the corners. God he’s cute.

“Hi, cowboy. Made yourself at home, did you?” You start stripping out of your work clothes, not caring about Jack’s presence. Nothing he hasn’t seen before. Jack gets off the bed and pulls your mostly naked body into his chest, nuzzling your neck.

“We got interrupted earlier.”

“Fucking asshole. He’s just mad he’s not getting any.”

“May be more right than you know, sugar.”

You quirk an eyebrow at him but shrug off the comment, dropping to your knees and working at Jack’s belt buckle.

Javi hates that son of a bitch, he really does. He’s always sneaking off work to fuck whatever willing idiot falls for his charming smile and his stupid broad shoulders and his long bowlegs.

He can’t believe you of all people fell for it, keep falling for it. Sure he’s pretty, but the guy is an asshole. Two days ago, he caught him in the store room with his hand down Jose’s pants. The guy is a slut, plain and simple. You’re too fucking good for him.

Javi isn’t completely sure why Jack gets under his skin so bad. At least not in any way he’ll admit to himself or anyone else. Jack is charming without being sleazy, smart, good at his job, funny. There were rumors that Jack had done bad things in his past, though there’s nothing about the man that indicates he had, aside from his silence on the topic. Something Javi can’t honestly hold against him, considering his own refusal to open up. There’s no real reason for Javi to hate him, but he does. Everything the other man does sets him into a rage, his face hot, chest heaving, fists clenching. He wants to put his fist through a wall.

He’s not quite sure where he went wrong with you. Sure, leaving for nearly 20 years does a number on a friendship, but he’s pretty sure it shouldn’t be this bad. You haven’t done anything wrong, other than fuck around with Jack, but every time he speaks to you now it’s a biting remark. A criticism of your work ethic, your choice in bed fellows, even your outfits. It’s like he has no control over his own damn mouth.

Javi knows he’s in the wrong, knows he should apologize for his comment earlier. He heads to the bunkhouse to find you. Your room is two doors down and across the hall from his. Javi doesn’t bother knocking, pushing the door open.

“Hey, do you have a sec–” Javi freezes in your doorway, catching an eyeful of you with Jack fucking Daniels’ cock in your mouth. Jack catches his eye and fucking winks at him. Javi ignores the twitch in his jeans and closes the door, stalking down the hall to his own room and slamming his door behind him.

Twice in one day? Seriously? He takes back the apology before he can ever offer it to you. This is just ridiculous. What do you see in Jack that you don’t see in him? And that’s the crux of it, isn’t it? Javi wants you for himself and he’s pissed that Jack got to you while you he was off not catching Escobar.

There’s a knock on his door and then, “Peña?” Fucking Jack Daniels.

“Piss off, Whiskey. Not in the mood.”

Jack opens the door anyway, steps inside and shuts it behind him. Javi takes his disheveled hair, still bare chest and feet. The man hadn’t even bothered to button his jeans. Javi is on his feet in the other man’s face in seconds. “I said piss off, Daniels. Something about that you don’t understand?”

“No need to be hostile, Peña, I just wanted to check on you. Stormed out of there pretty quick.” Jack doesn’t back up an inch.

“Forgive me if I don’t want to see her with your cock down her throat.”

“Why, Jav? You like her or something?” Javi shoves Jack until his back hits the wall, hard. “Or is it because you’re afraid you’ll like it too much?” Javi sees red. He swings on Jack, but Jack catches his fist and pulls the other man into his chest.

“Fuck you,” Javi growls it, lips almost grazing Jack’s, their mouths are so close together.

“That an offer?” Jack smirks. If Jack didn’t know better, he’d think he heard Javi’s breath hitch in his throat at that. Before he can wonder if Javi is gonna try to hit him again, Javi crashes their lips together.

Jack drops Javi’s arm and grabs the collar of his shirt in both hands instead. Jack licks into Javi’s mouth, slots a thigh between Javi’s and feels the other man’s cock getting hard against his leg. Jack walks him back toward the bed, tugging at the buttons of Javi’s shirt.

Suddenly, the door opens and Javi flies back from Jack as if he’d shoved him, sprawling on the bed. Jack doesn’t even turn to look at you, just stares Javi down.

“Hey, I heard…” you trail off, taking in the scene in front of you. Jack standing in the middle of the room, looking even more disheveled than the state you’d left him in. Javi spread out on the bed, shirt half untucked and half unbuttoned, his dick clearly hard in his jeans. “What am I looking at here?”

“Nothing,” Javi spits out.

“Me and Jav had a little fight, but we kissed and made up, Sugar.” Jack winks at you and you feel your cheeks heat, feel a flutter of arousal in your belly.

“Oh really?” You run your tongue along your top teeth, trying and failing to contain a smirk.

Javi furrows his brow at you. Do you sound… excited? Jack glances back and forth between the two of you.

“Why don’t you close the door?” Jack asks you, his voice low. You kick the door closed behind you and walk over to Javi. You take his face in your hands and tug him toward you until he’s sitting up on the bed.

“Close your mouth ‘fore flies get in, baby.” He snaps his jaw shut and you press a chaste kiss to his lips. “This okay?” Javi nods slowly. You climb onto the bed, straddling Javi’s thighs, and kiss him again, deeper and longer than the first.

Jack makes his way across the room and settles on his knees behind Javi, gripping his hips and pressing his lips behind his ear.

“How about this? Is this okay?” Jack whispers.

“Y-yeah,” Javi honest to god stutters. This is not where he thought this was going. He doesn’t even like men. Not usually.

Javi kisses you like his fucking life depends on it. He sucks your tongue into his mouth, tangles his own with yours. Drags his mouth down your jaw line, your throat, leaves a mark on your collarbone. You finish unbuttoning Javi’s shirt and Jack pulls it off him and tosses it on the floor before he sucks his own mark into Javi’s neck and Javi bites back a moan at the feeling. He buries his face in the crook of your neck.

“I um- I don’t really-” Javi’s face burns hot. He doesn’t know what the fuck he’s doing.

“It’s alright, I gotcha.” Jack runs his hands up and down Javi’s sides, soothing him. “Let’s start with something you’re familiar with, huh? Or at least I hope you are.” Jack slides off the bed, silently communicating with you what his plan is.

You push Javi until he’s on his back in the center of the bed. You stand up and strip your panties and t-shirt off before you crawl up his body, dropping kisses on the soft curve of his stomach, his chest, his throat. You settle your knees on either side of his head, your soaked pussy hovering just over his face. This he can do, he thinks.

He grabs your thighs and licks a stripe from your core to your clit. You moan, one hand braced on the wall in front of you and the other fisted in his hair. He pulls you flush with his mouth and starts moving your hips for you, making you ride his face. He thrusts his tongue in and out of you while you grind on his nose, much like you had Jack’s earlier. They’re both so fucking beautiful, fuck.

Jack gets situated between Javi’s spread thighs and takes in the sight of you straddling his face. It might be the most gorgeous thing he’s ever seen. Your head thrown back in ecstasy, Javi’s strong arms pulling you back and forth on his face.

Jack palms Javi through his jeans and he hears him moan into your skin. Jack strips his own jeans off, then drags Javi’s down far enough to free his cock. Jack’s mouth waters at the sight. Javi is thick, long, uncut. Fuckin’ gorgeous. He sucks the tip of Javi’s cock into his mouth, savoring the salty taste of his precum. Javi lets out a deep, muffled groan straight into your core and it sends you over the edge. Your cries only encourage Jack more and he takes Javi to the root, bobbing his head up and down the man’s length.

Javi holds you to his face while he works you through your orgasm. He finally lets you go, and you fall to the side to catch your breath and shake off the aftershocks.

Javi slides both hands into Jack’s hair, thrusting lightly into Jack’s mouth. Jack reaches a hand between his own legs and strokes himself while he lets Javi use his throat. You just came, but the sight of the two men together has your cunt clenching around nothing. You drop your hand to your clit and rub circles in time to Javi’s thrusts.

Javi pulls Jack off him abruptly. “Fuck- you’re really good at that.”

“I know,” Jack smirks at Javi, his voice rough.

“I’d really like to come in her tight little cunt though, instead of your mouth.” Javi looks over to you, eyes full of lust. “If that’s okay?”

“More than okay, baby.” You shoo the boys off the bed and lay across it with your head hanging off the edge. Jack moves to stand by your head and slips the head of his cock between your open lips. Javi feels a twinge of jealousy at the way you both seem to know exactly what the other wants without saying a word aloud. But then you wrap your legs around his waist and pull him closer to you and he lets it go. If this is the only time Javi gets to have you, he’s not going to waste it being jealous of the guy who just sucked him off.

Javi drags his cock through your soaked folds. “So wet for us, baby.” Javi groans as he pushes inside you, slowly sliding in to the hilt. “Fuck, you feel so good.”

Jack cradles your head in one hand while he shallowly fucks your throat, playing with your tits with his free hand. He tweaks your left nipple and you moan around his cock. Every thrust from Javi pushes you further down Jack’s length, forcing him to fuck your throat. You’ve never been used like this before, like some sort of proxy for two men to fuck each other, but you fucking love it. You feel close to coming again already, and no one has touched your clit in minutes.

Jack pulls Javi to him and crashes their mouths together. Javi lets Jack plunder his mouth for a moment before sucking on the other man’s tongue, drawing a moan from the cowboy’s throat. He may have never kissed a man, but he’s been with enough women to manage that.

The two men sync up, thrusting into your holes at the same time and you feel like you’re ascending to another fucking plane of existence. There are no thoughts in your head except for Javi and Jack and how fucking amazing you feel. And, briefly, the thought of them both stuffed in your core, stuffing you fuller than you’ve ever been. You clench at that thought, and Javi has enough presence of mind to drop his hand to your mound, rubbing messy circles on your clit.

Your body tenses, back arching as you get closer and closer to the edge, which only serves to open your throat up more for Jack. Javi grabs your hips with both hands and starts pulling you onto his cock, hitting your g-spot every time. Suddenly, your entire body tenses and your pussy flutters around Javi’s thick cock. Your vision blacks out as your eyes roll into the back of your head, coming harder than you ever have before.

Jack comes down your throat with absolutely no warning, too lost in Javi’s mouth on his and your mouth around his cock to say a word. You grab his hips and hold him deep in your throat, swallowing around him. The force of his orgasm knocks him forward on the bed, hands planted on either side of your hips and face buried in the crook of Javi’s neck as he paints your throat.

Javi thrusts into you a few more times before his hips still, flush with yours. He comes deep inside you for what feels like forever, his cum spilling out of you and dripping onto the bed.

He pulls out of you slowly, dropping a kiss to your thigh before he goes to get a towel to clean you up. When he comes back, he finds you with your legs thrown over Jack’s shoulders, the man eating Javi’s cum out of your cunt. Javi’s spent dick gives a valiant twitch at the sight.

“Guess I didn’t need the towel then?” Javi jokes, tossing it onto the bedside table and climbing back onto the bed. Jack sucks your clit into his mouth one last time and pulls off with a pop.

“Guess not,” Jack smirks. You and Jack settle in beside Javi, Jack pulling the man’s head to his chest and you resting your head on Javi’s torso. You all sit in comfortable silence for a few minutes.

“You’re not uh-” Javi closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. “You’re not gonna tell my old man I-”

“That you like boys?” you snicker.

“Not foolin’ anyone in those tight little jeans you wear, Jav.”

Javi presses his fingers into his eyelids and takes another deep breath. “Guys I’m serious.”

“Of course. We won’t tell anyone. Not til you’re ready.” You lean up and kiss his cheek before nuzzling back into Javi’s tummy.

“So you gonna tell her, or am I?” Jack looks like a kid in a candy store.

You sit up quickly. “Tell me what?”

“Don’t–” Javi tries to plead with Jack.

“Sugar, he tried to hit me for messing around with you,” Jack interrupts. “Think he might have a crush.”

“What the fuck, man?” Javi’s brow furrows so deep you think it might get stuck that way.

Jack ignores him and addresses you, “He’s always starin’ at you and checking up on you and asking you for shit he can damn well get himself.”

“Javi, is it true?”

Javi looks up at the ceiling as if he’s praying for God to have mercy on him.

“Yeah, hermosa. It’s true. Lo- Liked you since I was a kid.”

You smile so wide it hurts and wrap your arms around Javi, pulling him to you for another long, deep kiss. “Javi, baby, I was in love with you before you ever even got with Lorraine. And I never stopped loving you. Jack was just a stand-in, until he wasn’t.” You look over at Jack with a wince. “Sorry, Jack. No offense?”

“None taken, sugar.” Jack smiles good-naturedly and kisses you on the forehead. “Could we do this again sometime? Or are y’all cuttin’ me out of the deal now?”

“You’re not going anywhere, cowboy. Javi likes you too.”

“Wait really?” Jack seems genuinely surprised.

Javi drops his head into his hands and groans. “I need a fucking cigarette.”

Oh and here's a silly little moodboard thing I made

#pedrostoriesgift23 #Javier Peña #Javi P fics #Javier Peña fanfiction #Narcos fanfiction #Jack Daniels #Jack Daniels fics #Jack Daniels fanfiction #Agent Whiskey #Kingsman: The Golden Circle fanfiction #Agent Whiskey fics #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro fics #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedrostories

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moonlit-imagines · 7 months

Text

Headcanons for Halloween with Peter Parker

Peter Parker x reader

warnings:

a/n: FORGOT I WAS WRITIN THIS. LATE HALLOWEEN POST. I HAVE BEEN SO BUSY.

prompt:

you were spider-man for halloween (of course)

“really?” -peter

“there’s no better costume i could have picked” -you

peter was…iron man

“don’t tell mr. stark about this. ever” -peter

“too late” -you, taking a picture

you sent it straight to tony

and he called almost immediately

“you could have told me you were gonna be me, im flattered. i could have lent you an old suit of mine so you didn’t have to wear that cheap mask” -tony

“that’s so kind of you, but i dont know how safe it is to wear a military grade weapon to any halloween parties or like, on the street” -you

“well, you guys wouldn’t be on the street. you could fly!” -tony

“thank you, mr. stark. i just think i’ll fit it better with this stuff!” -peter

“well, suit yourself. cheaply.” -tony

you guys took so many pictures together

remaking all kinds of poses and such

(you colored a paper plate to look like captain america’s shield and did the spider pose on peter’s bed)

you both recreated the peter/tony picture together

“can i draw the goatee on your face” -you

“it’d be my greatest honor” -peter

it was sloppy but it was a fantastic addition

“‘FRIDAY, how many hours of sleep should the average human being get each night?’” -peter, mocking tony’s voice

“‘eight hours, mr. stark’” -you, mocking FRIDAY

“‘no, you’re wrong FRIDAY. the answer is two hours every two days’” -peter

fighting the urge to go trick or treating

“i mean—aren’t we a little too old for that?” -you

“i don’t really think there’s an age limit” -peter

“yeah, but like, i was thinking more of a party and some scary movies afterwards” -you

“…i have to call ned” -peter

ned showed up to peter’s house dressed as a spider

“we coordinated this. im the spider that bit you” -ned

may was basically babysitting you guys with a camera during all of this, too

constantly snapping candids

“guys, squeeze together so i can get a few more” -may

you guys ended up finding a party thrown by a midtown student and it was…

okay?

not exactly your speed, you know?

ned actually was kind of into it though

“shots! shots! shots!” -the crowd

ned did one shot

“UGHHHHHH” -ned, hating every second of it

“told you” -you and peter

okay, so maybe the party was a blow

(you guys stole a bunch of candy out of a bowl and left)

the neighborhood had really cool halloween lights, you were able to wander and check out the decor

“that’s so me” -you, every 60 seconds

“no, that’s me” -peter

“no, that’s you” -you, pointing at an inflatable spider that had been deflated

when you got back to peter’s, you found may obsessively baking “halloween treats”

“hi guys! okay, so i have witch finger pretzels, ghost marshmallows, pumpkin cookies—oh! and those tiny pumpkins with paint. go ahead, take some stuff!” -may

you all three squeezed together on the couch and turned on the halloween movie (og of course)

“no one draw any more spiders!” -peter

*you and ned freezing and trying to cover the spiders you just painted*

“oops” -you

cracking up the whole time

peter trying to poke you with the witch finger pretzel

then pretending to pick his nose with it and eat it

“ew, peter! stop!!” -you

“hey, did may just stick some sprinkles in this marshmallow and call it a ghost?” -ned

“yeah. it’s a ghost.” -peter

“yeah, ned. are you too good for it?” -you

*ned quietly eating the marshmallow*

every once in a while you’d start paying attention to the movie again

“gross. fake. dumbass. ew.” -you

eventually you guys all crashed (on the couches, of course) and may made sure to give each of you a blanket so you had a good night

taglist: @alwaysananglophile // @locke-writes // @sweetheartlizzie07 // @queen-destenie // @johnmurphyisqueer // @captainshazamerica // @ravenmoore14 // @canarypoint // @procrastinatingsapphictrash // @swanimagines // @randomfandomimagine // @petersgroupie // @summersimmerus // @scarthefangirl // @bad4amficideas // @sheridans-dynamos // @simsrecs // @prettysbliss // @skdkdkckfk // @simp-legend // @zoeyserpentluck // @wild-rose-35 // @ipurpleeyou // @nekoannie-chan // @punk-rock-raven // @evilcr0ne // @minxsblog // @v0idl1nq // @sydknee624 // @ruvaakke // @thedarkqueenofavalon // @amirahiddleston //@multifandomfix // @beth-gallagher22 // @brutal-out-here // @rqmanoff // @elenavampire21 // @mymelodymia // @pheonixfire777 //

#peter parker imagine #peter parker x reader #peter parker #spiderman #spiderman x reader #spiderman imagine #marvel #marvel x reader #marvel imagine #avengers #avengers x reader #avengers imagine #fall imagine #halloween imagine #autumn imagine #holiday imagine

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ladykailitha · 11 months

Text

Royal Pain Part 3

Hello! I was going to post this yesterday but I thought I would be busier for WIP Wednesday which only two people participated in (sad author noises). And then I was waffling about putting up a meta about Steve’s parents (I ended up just saving it in my ‘bit of everything’ file). And then I realized it was super late and should put this up before I forget again.

This next part is for @weirdandabsurd42 who mentioned being excited to see Wayne and was thusly added (because I almost forgot to put him there, oops!), thereby creating one of my favorite lines I’ve ever written so...thanks!

Part 1 Part 2

***

Steve closed up his shop with a spring in his step and a grumpy Robin following behind.

“I can’t believe you are dragging me to a metal concert,” she groused as she locked the door behind her.

“You don’t have to come,” Steve said with a grin. “You can stay home on a Saturday, all by yourself with a pint of ice cream and the latest rom-com.”

Robin glared at him. “You know that I have to come with you so you don’t throw yourself at Eddie.”

Steve rolled his eyes as they walked to his car. “I’m not going to throw myself at him.”

Robin clutched her hands to her chest. “Oh that’s right I forgot! You already have!”

Steve glared at her. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“No?” she asked, sliding into the car. “So what do you call offering to do his back tattoo?”

Steve already in the car, hit his head on his steering wheel. “Fucccckkkk.” He hit it over and over. “Why did I do that? Why did he agree? What am I going to do?”

Robin rubbed his back. “I think this is good thing for you. If you do well on his wings then you can start doing large pieces again. And if not, then you know it’s not something you can do and you’ll never do another one ever again.”

Steve sighed and wrapped his arms around the steering wheel. “I just wanted him to like me.”

“As person, as friend or as a boyfriend?” Robin asked seriously.

“All of the above?” Steve said raising his head to look at her. “Apparently the first one has been met. I’d take the second one, but I would love the last one more than anything.”

“Well this weekend will be a great opportunity to test the waters and see how he feels. Because even if he wants to be friends now, there’s still a chance he might want something more in the future. Just don’t bank on it.”

Steve nodded. “Yeah.” He took a deep breath. “Yeah, okay.” He turned the key and pulled out of their parking lot.

“This would be a good time to get a couple of apprentices of your own,” she said after a few miles of silence. “You’re going to be spending a lot of hours on Eddie’s tattoo and you’re going to need someone to pick up the slack.”

Steve let out a shuddering sigh. “I know. I’ll start putting out feelers in the community and see what’s out there.”

Robin nodded. “We’ll put up filers at the local colleges and universities as well as putting it up on our website. I’ll talk to Will and see what he can come up with for both.”

“I know he’ll turn it down but offer him the usual rates for that sort of thing,” Steve agreed.

Robin laughed. “Fingers crossed he’ll accept this time.”

Eddie walked into his apartment and flopped face first into his couch. It had been such a whirlwind day. He wasn’t even sure he could function. That really was the downside to having a full time gig. Having all this free time.

Because yeah, Eddie and the rest of Corroded Coffin practiced nearly every day, and they were always coming up with new music, it just wasn’t the same as full time job. He didn’t have to do anything but show up and perform two nights a week. He could phone it in if he wanted.

Not that he would. Just...that he could. Which meant on days when his head was spiraling he could stew for days and never leave this couch.

He rolled over and pulled out his phone and dialed that familiar number.

“Munson residence!” came the gruff familiar voice.

“When are you going to at least get a caller ID, old man!” Eddie crowed.

“Shut it, boy,” Wayne growled. “I have one and it works just fine, the greeting is polite. Something I thought I raised you better in.”

Eddie giggled. “You love me.”

“Lord help me, but I do,” Wayne agreed. “You calling to talk or to listen?”

It was something that they had established long before Eddie left Hawkins to live on his own in the big city. Long before before Eddie took three years to graduate. Long before Al Munson abandoned his son on his baby brother’s door step for one last job. A job that would land him in prison. They had this code. Well, not really a code.

Just this thing between them. When Eddie had a rough day, he would call Wayne. But depending on the swirling of emotions going through his head, sometimes he just need to hear Wayne talk about his day. Gossip about his neighbors. Let the words flow over him until he felt at ease enough to go to sleep.

Other nights, though. The really bad ones. The ones where Eddie needed advice, he would talk. Sometimes Eddie would figure it out on his own, other times he would need Wayne to give him advice. This was one of those nights.

“Talk,” Eddie breathed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Wha’cha got, Ed?” Wayne asked gently.

And Eddie just let it all spill out. The tattoos, Steve, the band, feeling like they had stagnated.

“That’s a lot on your plate, boy,” Wayne said. “I can see why you wanted to share.”

Eddie let out a shuddering sigh. “I don’t know what to do about...well any of it to be honest.”

Wayne hummed. “When was the last time you went out and did something fun? Something for just yourself? And don’t say get a tattoo because that’s part of the tangled mess right now.”

Eddie blinked. When was the last time he had gone out for drinks, saw a movie, or even listened to music other than his own? “I’m not sure.”

“Well there you go,” Wayne said. “Creativity isn’t endless, boy. It’s a well and you’re going through a drought because you aren’t taking in any influences other then that feedback loop you’re on.”

“Oh.”

“It doesn’t have to be with your friends or even that boy you’ve got your eye on,” Wayne explained. “Just go out and have fun for yourself, ya hear?”

“Yeah,” Eddie said, already feeling lighter. “Thanks, Uncle Wayne.”

“Rest well, okay?” Wayne murmured.

“You too.”

Jeff shook his head and rolled his eyes as he watched Eddie play with his rings, his knee bouncing up and down.

“Chill!” Gareth growled. “For fuck’s sake. We are professionals, we’ve done this twice a week for years. What’s got your panties in a twist this time?”

Jeff wagged his eyebrows. “This time pretty boy Steve Harrington is going to be in the crowd. With a girl no less.”

“She’s gay,” Eddie bit out. “A literal flaming lesbian. I just have to pass the best friend test with her. And considering she wanted me to get his number, I’m pretty sure I don’t have to work that hard.”

“I noticed you didn’t deny that you’re nervous about Pretty Boy being in the audience tonight,” Brian teased.

Eddie threw up his hands in the air and leapt to his feet. “All right, yeah. I’m nervous. Even when I did have boyfriends that would show up, I knew they liked the music. But I have no idea if Steve is just being nice or if he’s actually interested in hearing us play.”

Jeff cocked his head. “Yeah, I can see how you might be worried he won’t like it. But if he doesn’t, isn’t better you know that now, before your feelings get in too deep?”

Eddie’s lip quivered. “Yes. I mean, of course. But it still makes me feel like crawling out of my skin, okay?”

“Okay,” Gareth said. “So do what you do best and throw yourself into the music. Let it wash over you. You are a consummate performer. So kick ass.”

Eddie nodded and the nod slowly turned into a head bang with him playing air guitar. By the time the knock came to let them know it was time, Eddie was ready to go out there and rock.

Steve hadn’t been to The Nightmare Holes before. It hadn’t even been on his radar at all. That was so weird, especially since it was almost literally doors down from Robin and his favorite club.

Well that was until they were dropped off in front of a large concrete building that didn’t look like a bar from the outside at any stretch of the imagination. In fact the only thing that stuck out at all was a neon sign with a large arrow pointing to a set of stairs leading down proclaiming this to be The Nightmare Holes.

When they got into the bar, Steve realized that they were going to stick out like a sore thumb. With Steve looking prep and Robin looking punk, they were going to be murdered before Eddie even got on stage.

They were saved by a goddess if you believed Robin later. This pretty woman in a tank top and tight leather pants with four inch heeled boots came up to them.

“Hey!” she greeted warmly. “You must be Stevie, right?”

Steve nodded. “I’m afraid you’re one up on me. You know me, but I don’t know you.”

She smiled much to Robin’s chagrin. “I’m Miranda, girlfriend of the rhythm guitarist, Jeff Lawrence. He was worried that Eddie might have forgotten to tell you that wearing your usual clothes might make you stand out.” She waved her hands at them. Both Robin and Steve blushed. “You aren’t too bad actually. I was think you would be much worse the way Jeff was going on.”

“He only saw us at work,” Robin explained once she picked her jaw up off the ground. “He might have assumed that we wear that on the regular.”

Miranda nodded. “You can do this one of two ways. Stay dressed as you are as big middle finger to conformity no matter who’s conforming to what or you come with me and I can tweak your looks enough that you don’t stand out as much.”

Steve looked down at his clothes and tilted his head. “I think I’m going to give conformity the middle finger, thanks. I’ve been bucking what people think a tattoo artist should look like for years. I’m not going to change that for one little concert.”

Miranda nodded appreciatively. “Good on you. How about you, princess? You gonna give conformity the middle finger, too?”

Robin looked down at her clothes and blushed. “I think most metalheads would say a punk is being a step too far.”

Miranda laughed. “You’re probably right. Let’s go see if I can metal you up a bit.”

The two ladies came back a few minutes later. Robin still had her chunky jewelry and smudged makeup. But her billowy plaid pants were replaced by tight black jeans and instead of her vest, she wore a black jacket. Her hair had been tamed to a more relaxed style.

Steve grinned at her. “Looking good, Robs!”

Robin blushed. “I made a new friend.”

Miranda laughed. “Thanks for that.” She looked around and then leaned forward conspiratorially. “Just a little secret between us new besties.”

Steve and Robin shared a glance, but both nodded.

“I don’t like metal music, either,” she whispered and winked. She turned around so she faced the stage. “But I’m here because my Jeffie does. So if you don’t like the music, because hey, you might not, don’t sweat it. They put on a good show and we’re here for them.” She jutted her chin up at the stage just as the house lights went down and the stage lights went up.

Standing the spotlight was Eddie. He wore a slashed up band shirt, tight jeans, and his leather jacket. A jacket Steve was about to learn wasn’t going to feature long. About twenty minutes into the show, the jacket was gone and Steve could see a peek of the new tattoo through the slits in the shirt.

He licked his lips slowly. Ooh...that was tantalizing. And then Eddie threw caution and his shirt to the wind and everyone saw Eddie’s new tattoo.

Robin turned to Steve wide-eyed. “Holy shit, it blends seamlessly into the rest of the tattoos, like it was there first.”

Miranda peered around Robin to look at Steve, too. “Yeah, man. You did a hell of a job. You should be proud of that.”

Steve was. No doubt. But he was prouder of the fact that Eddie wanted everyone to see it. It melted his heart and settled at the base of his spine, like he had drank a cup of hot chocolate all at once.

And that was when Steve realized he would do anything for Eddie. Even if that meant just being friends.

***

My new favorite line? * “Lord help me, but I do,” Wayne agreed. “You calling to talk or to listen?” * It’s just so...Wayne, you know?

Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part 25 Part 26 Part 27 Part 28 Epilogue

Tag List: @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @artiststarme @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gregre369 @pyrohonk @renaissan-vvitch @goodolefashionedloverboi @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @messrs-weasley @val-from-lawrence @plyerice27 @thedragonsaunt @chaoticlovingdreamer @sapphirecobalt-1 @a-little-unsteddie @i-must-potato @danili666 @carlyv @rozzieroos @wonderland-girl143-blog @itsall-taken @justforthedead89 @emly03 @bookworm0690 @aizawa-emma @yikes-a-bee @redfreckledwolf @thesuninyaface @bookbinderbitch @littlewildflowerkitten @scheodingers-muppet @archermightbegay @hallucinatedjosten

#My writing #stranger things #steddie #tattoo artist steve #ladykailtiha writes

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chocotonez · 2 years

Text

txt love languages: acts of service

a/n: OK HIII so I decided to do a series for some of my fandoms and I wanted to start w txt :)) I love love languages and I find them so interesting but they’re never rlly niche and small so I wanted to have a sort of domestic aspect ok u don’t rlly care so I’m just gonna get it started now!! enjoy!! (I’ll be posting the skz version later <333)

genre/warnings: suggestive in some parts, mainly fluff?? some might be confused w gift giving oops

yeonjun

-he’s a big giver in every sense of the word, massages, in bed, to just doing ur dishes lmao

-if you leave earlier than him in the morning, he’ll clean up the remnants of your routine and fix the bed (unless he’s also in a rush, if not he’ll just leave a sticky note saying how much he loves you)

-he picks you up from work/school/airport, etc, or just walks you from the metro. he will literally always do this and texts to check up on you if he’s away

-like if he’s in America and you’re in Korea, and he realizes over there it’s around the time that you’ll be getting home he always manages to ask if ur home <3

-he cares deeply for ur well being so he’s always doing his best to look out for you, bandaids and kisses any wounds, brushes/washes your hair if you had a bad day, he’s such a mom lololol

soobin

-Invented acts of service tbh

-tends to cook for you, breakfast, lunch, leaves dinner in the fridge if he can’t make it home on time…

-he also picks up ur parcels and takes out ur trash but he expects cuddles and kisses in exchange <333

-jokes that he’s just your maid but he’s never asked to do these things for you, he always does, and if he wants to clean he ALWAYS asks if can go through certain items or drawers

-teaches you how to cook and take care of yourself when he’s away so you don’t die :D

-I honestly think he’s more sporadic than Yeonjun in checking-up texts where it’s like “hey I know it’s 3 am but make sure to brush your teeth”

-he’s the silent protector, he’s always in your corner and takes care of you, even if he’s not the loudest about it

beomgyu

-this bitch is the loudest about it

-he prefers to receive acts of service imo cuz it means a lot to him, but he doesn’t even realize he’s doing things for you, it’s just second nature

-“ur so lucky you have me u forgot to turn the mf stove off!!”

-he picks up after you in a sense?? but always makes fun of u afterwards, like if u trip over your shoelaces he double knots them while laughing, if you can’t move some furniture on your own he’ll tease you while helping you, it’s an eye for an eye

-of course there are some things he does that he doesn’t even realize, I just said that oops, anyways he closes your shampoo bottles for you, he shuts off your laptop if u forgot, and he adds events on your shared calendar since he’ll just randomly remember it

-im out of ideas so im gonna throw in the hc that if you have a pet he looks out for it like he looks out for you <3

taehyun

-his acts of service are intermingled with physical touch

-so he’ll hold your hand while crossing the street, or you two do massage nights where you’ll help each other relax (sometimes more), he wakes you up knowing you’ll sleep through your alarm with soft kisses, etc etc

-I don’t think he’s protective in the emotional sense, but more of your physical well being. he kills bugs for you, he always brings hand sanitizer, he checks both ways before you two cross a road and he double checks the weather in the morning before you go out

-he cares a lot for your comfort, but will tease you about being like royalty whenever you ask if he has any hand lotion or tissues with you

-“always needing to be pampered~”

-if you ever whine and deny his service because of this he’ll respond w even more teasing but making sure to comply w ur needs <33

huening kai

-I associate him so much with gift giving and words of affirmation it was kinda difficult to figure this out

-like,,,maybe similar to taehyun in the sense of blending two love languages but also not really?? anyways I think the best way to put his acts of services are small but plentiful

-he’s kinda ditzy, so he won’t put reminders on your phone like the others or check your schedule, but he remembers your coffee order just the way you like it

-he learns the things you’re interested in so he can discuss it with you, he listens when you want to talk to him about something, he lies and says the food you cooked tasted good and proceeds to eat it all just to see you smile, and he hangs up any clothes he finds laying around before you get home

-they can seem pretty insignificant to others, but it means the world to get home to him watching your favorite show so he can talk about the newest episodes with you

#txt scenarios #txt x reader #txt reactions #txt headcanons #hueningkai x reader #yeonjun x reader #taehyun x reader #soobin x reader #beomgyu x reader #this isn’t proofread and kinda shitty but oh well

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oneglass-zinfandel · 1 year

Text

Movie Night, Cuddle Night

Mammon x nb!reader

Rating: fluff

Length: one-shot

Summary: you watch a horror movie with Mammon but he gets to scared and makes a mess so you switch plans and you fall asleep together

Warnings: None

Note: I was supposed to post part 1 of Buddy Daddies Rei x Babysitter!reader today but I had a bit of a block so maybe tomorrow, also don't question why a movies is online right after it has been made instead of being in the cinema first I don't know either

It was a usual day in Devildom, except you woke up to a notification. It was a reminder you set yourself around a month ago about the new movie coming out today! It was a horror movie called "The Walking Bread" (let me have fun with the name). You were excited to see it because you loved horror movies.

Soon you got up and got ready for the day going the dinning room to meet for breakfast with everyone.

Everyone sat at the table, conversations happening left and right until you spoke your head turning to Levi. "Hey Levi we still watching that movie tonight?" He looked at you confused for a second panicking once he realized what you were talking about. "Oh! Right,.. I forgot about that, i was stayed up to see it the second it came out"

Lucifer looking at Levi shaking his head to himself hearing he stayed up late.

Mammon looked at Levi and spoke loudly as usual "HUH?! You made movie plans with the human? Their supposed to be spendin' time with THE Great Mammon"

Levi looked at Mammon annoyed. You spoke looking at them both "well since Levi already watched it we can watch it together Mammon, although this IS a Horror movie so I'm not sure you could handle it" a small giggle leaving your lips.

Mammon waved his hands around sounding offended " Of course I can handle it! The Great Mammon is not scared of some movie! I'm comin' to your room later and provin' it!"

--time skip--

The night fell as the moon stood proud and bright. You were putting on your Pyjamas, a white two piece with golden bears on it. While you were patently waiting he wasent showing up, instead of texting him you went to get drinks as well as some popcorn.

You came back a few minutes later to see Mammon in your room looking thru your drawers. "Your finally here! What took you so long huh? You dare keep me waiting human?" He said trying to sound annoyed. "I was waiting for YOU, but you weren't showing up so I went to go get some food and drinks, and I got your favorite, your welcome oh great Mammon" You said walking past him to sit on the bed. He looked at your hands noticing the drink you mentioned blushing very lightly by the fact your remembered.

"Whatever, let's start already"

--small time skip-

You two sat the the bed shoulder to shoulder with your laptop on your lap and the food on his. Your drink on the bedside table and his on the bed because he swore "I won't spill it".

The movie was only 20min in but Mammon already got shaken a bit by the light scares.

30minutes passed, the popcorn long gone.

40minutes, you saw a spoiler before watching about a big jumpscare happening some time soon moving the mouse to "check how much is left" but looking at how much longer till it happens. 30 seconds, a small smile crept on your face. "If your Scares Mammon you can cling to me, I will protect you little Demon"

He looked at you for a second with a loud "HUH" and back at the screen saying " I'm not scared, if anything you should cling to me because this is way to Scary for a hum-" He was cut off by a jumpscare as he let out a girlish scream, even you flinched.

You heard a glass fall. Pausing the movie you looked at Mammon's side, the drink got knocked over by his jump on to your bed.

Great.

Mammon looked at the drink and back at you "oops.." You simply sighed putting the laptop down from your legs onto the other side of the bed getting off yourself.

"Yeah this movie is way to scary for you" you said looking for a new blanket in one of your drawers. "…" He didn't try to deny it this time feeling about about spilling the drink.

You cleaned up the mess putting on the new blanket leaving the dirty one on a desk to put to wash tomorrow.

"You know I can watch this alone later, if you want to spend time together so bad we can watch something more your style and maybe you can sleep here for the night" you say hopping to make him feel better about the situation.

"…can we watch that one action movie with the racing you were talking about some time ago?"

"Yeah of course" you said, he leaned his head on your shoulder. Putting your arm around him you petted his hair.

Sure he was a tsundere all the time but he has his soft moments, moments where he stops the act and shoes you how much he truly loves you.

He put his arms around you leaning in,his eyes focusing on the show, but the feeling of tour touch never leaving his mind. 'Warm' he thought to himself.

Somehow he feel asleep even thru the loud sounds of the movie he picked. You noticed eventually, carefully closing your laptop as you moved him to lay in bed with you, spooning him while petting his head.

Your head was on top of his, his face meeting g your chest he brought you closer even in his sleep.

You mean a lot to him.

Anyone else would have yelled at him for that accident but you didn't, you even offered to watch something you probably weren't interested in. You were to kind for him.

A mere human.

His human.

#Obey me #obey me one master to rule them all #obey me oneshot #obey me mammon #obey me mc #obey me shall we date #mammon x reader #mammon x mc #mammon x gn!reader #mammon x gn!mc #gn!reader #gn!mc #obey me fluff #obey me x y/n #obey me x you #obey me x reader #obey me mammon x you #obey me mammon x reader

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nomunamuinmybrain · 2 years

Text

Unbecoming

Pairing: Vampire Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Smut, supernatural

Word Count: 1.6 k

Disclaimer: if you are under the age of 18 please know that this contains heavy sexual themes and mature language.

Author's note: This story was penned two months ago for Junkgook's birthday but such is life that I never really got around to posting it. Halloween presents an excellent opportunity for me to introduce this indulging vampiric treat. I hope you enjoy it. Also, please excuse any syntax or grammar errors because this gal was too lazy to proofread once more before posting, oops...

“What a beautiful, good girl you are” the last thing I can remember from last night, fading, drifting away from memory. The vibrato of his voice still ripples all over my skin. A warning, a farewell, an invitation.

The maknae was not one to mess around for too long. Maybe him saving me, if salvation is as such, is the universe buying me some time. Escaping though seems impossible.

“…and it is sweetness” his voice but a breathy whisper haunting the corners of my mind. He can hear me. I forgot about that. I feel so weak. I am not even sure where speech wavers and thought takes over.

His wicked lips on my neck and then my thigh, the juiciest veins of his vessel, his plaything, his nourishment, all wrapped up in the frame of me. I think I should mind and try fighting but nothing seems to be in my control not even my own limbs and skin.

“I overdid it once again precious. I can’t let you drift away now. What will become of me, depraved of your sweetness?” his monologue, a selfish reminder of what has become of me. It’s the second time now where we’ve almost reached the point of no return and truly I wish he’d drain me out already but it doesn’t seem that his intentions of keeping me are in vain.

The maknae ruled upon his own word. When the whole town was slaughtered in just one week, we all knew the careless acts of hunger were his. We waited like sheep to the knife, trapped. I wonder if the people who thought of his existence to be a mere piece of lore died of shock before his brilliant sharp teeth had a chance to tear their flesh.

How long ago was the great massacre? How long have I been here? Where is here?

I get tucked in once again, feeling the blood, my blood all dried up on my skin mixed with his saliva. If beasts cruel like him got to look so angelic then what was hell actually like. Gazing upon him you’d think that God was true and just and that his angels walked indeed amongst our tragic existence. The red betrayed him. Those bright red ruby eyes, sparkling murder.

Rump and ruff around the edges. That is how the town, my town, knew me. Good enough to hold a house and probably marry off someday. Nothing special. I was appointed assistant to the head pharmacist of the dominion, my father. As brilliant as he, that’s what they’d say. Although, I was mostly out gathering ingredients for our salves and medicines and potions, I felt valuable in our community in contrary to the other women my age. My parents did not wish to force me into any arrangements that I would not enjoy or approve of, therefore life, my life was sweet.

The high families, as we called them, ruled in underground means. We all knew of them without having much to do with them. I didn’t want anything to do with them.

“...Yet, here you are…” he raises his head from where it is buried in my thighs. His tongue chasing after the trail of blood that weakly escapes the bite marks.

“You were meant to be here you know. Here with me. It’s been 5 weeks and though I expected you to cry yourself to death, here you are. Persevering.”

“If crying really could push me to the edge of death, I am sure you’d yank me back to you with a vengeance.”

“I would.”

“Why?”

He looks at you for a moment. Contorting his features, in an effort to honestly seek an answer himself. Why would he? He didn’t know how or when but somewhere along those few weeks of being with you, feasting on you, a different hunger grew. It planted a spark of need at the pit of his belly, torching his loins. Desire. He would do anything for you. He would do anything to keep you. For your delicious plumpness was the only reason he chose to feed off of the damned nook that nestled the warmth between your thighs. The plush redness of your lips as you drank his own blood at the end of every visit.

He would, of course he would, for when he lays to rest and wraps his hand around his cock it is your velvet touch that he imagines to bring himself to bliss. Day in and day out. Like poison you slowly but surely gained your ground in his head. He made sure to take care of you without making it seem too obvious. He knew from the beginning, that damned day his hyung dared to lay his eyes on you boasting about how he’d drain you not to the point of death but close enough so he could bring you back again and make you one of them. An immortal. A monster.

He couldn’t bear the thought and that’s when his anger took the best of him. He killed them all. His hyungs, the townspeople, everyone in his vicinity but not you. Never you. He wanted, for the first time in thousands of years, to preserve something and it happened to be you. He almost turned you, twice but he couldn’t go through with it. What if your luscious peachy scent were to faint as you transformed? He couldn’t live with himself. Of all the crimes he has committed that would be the greatest one. It seemed like a joke.

His head tilts. There is an unmistakable playfulness in his eyes.

“I wish to try something… It has been gnawing on my brain for a while.”

“What is it?” you sheepishly ask, intrigued by what is to follow. You’d deem anything intriguing after weeks of nothingness and utter darkness.

“Close your eyes” he commands.

Death is finally here, you think. He’s putting an end to this miserable story of yours. You close your eyes awaiting the sharp teeth of the beast to tear you limb by limb.

He creeps closer instead. His breath, warm, fans your face. His lips ghosting over yours, stealing away your weak breath. Tracing softly from one edge to the other, teasing.

“You smell like peaches.” he deftly whispered. He kissed you. Reverently. Carefully. As if he held the most precious rose blossoms.

“I was curious to see if you tasted like so. Your blood does carry a floral, fruity tone but maybe I thought tasting you in other ways might be more effective.”

With your eyes still closed and with him now laying fully on top of you, the kiss deepens. It escalates into something more. His strong hands roamed your curves in adoration as he devoured your lips. You couldn’t help your moans as they escaped you. Of all that his done there was none you could forgive, but you could not deny him. You hated that part of you that lusted after the beast. Every time he drank from between your thighs you’d fantasize about his kisses trailing off to the place you needed him the most.

“Look at me… You precious thing. You crave me, of course you crave me. It is how I am made. It is all that lures you in. The camouflage. This is the skin of a killer.”

He languidly thrusts your thigh as his lips wonder away. His actions contradicting his words entirely. As his lips marked your neck in ways he’d never dared before, his hands seek for your softness under your skirts. Bunching the fabric barrier as done so many times in your previous meetings, only this time he’d go one step further and leave you entirely bear. His ruby eyes pierce through yours as a wicked grin appears. Softly his fingers find your clit. Circling ever so skillfully to draw out a moan. He started mercilessly fucking you with his fingers and as you was about to reach another type of sweet death he draws them out. Sucking on them one by one as if he dipped them in the most decadent honey.

You couldn’t understand how everything happened so fast. No more than a second later his face was buried in your cunt, licking and sucking your juices out of you. The vibrations from each grunt that escaped him send shivers of pleasure throughout your body and by the time you reached your fifth peak of the day you grew sensitive unable to take anything more.

“I can’t” you weakly protest as your fingers unclench from his locks and brush them off his face.

He molds over you as he steals your kiss once more. Only this time his tenderness comes up to the surface.

“I can’t let go. I can’t let you go. How could I leave without you?”

“I’m not going anywhere…”

“Maybe not now. At some point, down the line, you’ll leave me forever. You’ll pass away to the one place I cannot meet you.”

Speechless. This sudden surge of emotion has left you more confused than ever. Words seemed of little to no substance as his grasp on you was seconds away from breaking you. There was nothing left for you. Nothing but him.

“Then let me walk this path with you forever. If that is something you’d want, I wouldn’t oppose as I have nothing but my own life to lose.”

Cradling your face he looks into your soul as if searching for something to prove you wrong. He found nothing of the sort.

“I have crossed eons to find you. Today Peach we’ll become one, as it is your wish as well.”

His lips kissed yours one last time. His fangs pierced the tender flesh of your neck, fully set on finishing the deed this time around. You held onto each other as blood married you into one. From his, you were reborn, from yours he rejoiced for finally, he had found that one missing piece. A soulmate.

#jungkook #bts #jungkook x reader #vampire jungkook #jungkook fanfic #jeon jungkook #bts supernatural au #bts vampire au #bts vampire smut #bts one shot #jungkook oneshot

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evanox · 2 years

Note

Heyy love your stuff, could i please ask for sage fluff, anything just wanna cuddle the kitty merc

ooo perhaps this is the perfect chance to write that continuation of Sage and Settling Down HCs!! I wanted to add these to the original post but it didn't really fit so here's First Dates with Sage; the options are based on the second paid choices in chapter 7!

oops another one that got longer than intended.. thank u zeke for helping me brainstorm!!

m.list

The first Official Date Sage takes you on is the one you asked for he promised you when you were doing his hair that night back at Fathom, and he'd be lying if he said it's not unnerving.

Sure, it's not the first time you've been intimate or spent time alone, but Sage never really did this serious dating thing before—it all happened so quickly: one moment he and a pretty stranger are swing-dancing to a bard's merry tune, the next they're stumbling over the inn's stairs chasing quick pleasure. Sage always forgot their names within a day, if not less.

That was before you came along though, and you're the best thing to happen in his life. Sage really wants to do things right this time.

>"A candlelit dinner."

The pomp and circumstance associated with a candlelit dinner only add to the pressure; Sage is not exactly a fancy guy. However, with support from Tulsi (wingman #1) and Felix (wingman #2 and wine connoisseur), Sage shall persevere—anything to please the one he loves. Anisa suggests cooking dinner rather than going to a fancy restaurant as it would be less pressure and "feel more sentimental," so that's what Sage does. Really, he'll take up almost any advice he could. He even puts on a shirt (though it's unbuttoned well past his sternum). You know this man is committed.

Hand pressed to the small of your back, Sage leads you to the dinner table set up on the balcony where he first confessed his feelings for you, overlooking the sea as the sun melts into the shimmering waters and turns them golden.

The table is draped with a lovely embroidered tablecloth he borrowed from Anisa, its lacy hem fluttering gently with the salty breeze. The fancy silverware borrowed from Fathom's kitchen is arranged according to whatever etiquette tips Felix could remember from his lessons back at Welwreth. Last but not least is the centerpiece: an iridescent glass vase glowing pink in the fading sunlight, made complete by the flowers you picked on the way here.

Caught up in the sheer amount of effort that went into just dressing the table, you don't notice how intently Sage watches you, tail swishing left and right as he waits for your reaction.

The suspense, however, is easier on his heart than your sudden enthusiasm and kind compliments, making him feel equal parts flustered, bashful, and proud.

Soon as he recollects himself, Sage asks if you'll do him the honor of lighting up the ornate candelabras with your magic while he pours your drinks. When that is done, he pulls your chair back and waits for you to get comfortable before gently pushing you back in.

"Well, aren't you quite the gentleman!" you tease.

There's a hint of that old cockiness in the slight upturn of his lips when he gloats, "You know there's more to me than meets the eye."

Get it? Eye. A beat passes in silence, then you're both laughing at that horrible, horrible pun.

At least it got Sage to relax a little. You can't help how your chest feels warm with pride. To say he's becoming his old self again feels unfair; you never wanted Sage to feel pressured to live up to a "better" version of himself. You're just happy to watch him grow out of the walls he locked himself behind many months ago, ones even taller than those he had when you first met him.

"Wait, so you're going to be both my date and waiter?" You watch as Sage pulls two dishes from the serving cart and places one before each seat.

"And your chef," Sage adds, pulling the cloche from your plate so steam rolls off in waves, the mouth-watering aroma overwhelming your senses. There truly is more to him than meets the eyes.

"Straight to the main course? What happened to appetizers?"

"Tulsi had you walking all over town," Sage huffs, "You don't need to be appetized. Unless you do... I might have an idea—"

"No! No, I am indeed very hungry right now, thank you!" You look down at your plate, ready to dig in, only to find that the food, though nicely presented, is not something you readily recognize.

At first look, it resembles an Althtali dish Sage made you once, but with a few experimental bites, you recognize elements of a recipe from back home that you had described to (or made for) Sage many, many months ago. Somehow the combination just works; even if it differs from the original, you find this new variant is just as delectable.

Sage's ears twitch when you tell him as much, clearly unused to all this praise. "Then make sure you keep space for dessert," he tries to laugh it off. One look at his tail curled tightly against his chair tells you he is still a bundle of nerves, growing more agitated as he struggles to fill any lull in the conversation.

With a touch of your hand against his and a little teasing here and there, you can see Sage slowly but visibly relaxing. At some point, you can feel the tuft of his tail brushing against your leg before curling around it.

You carry on merrily even as the sky darkens and the candles grow shorter, though the flames still shine brightly, bathing you both in warm golden light. Silence no longer feels awkward, filled in by the cacophony of waves crashing against each other, serenading the big, bright moon up above.

The lovely view might have trapped your attention, but Sage only finds himself beholden to your beauty, so much so that he's completely caught off guard when you suddenly break the silence.

"Well, was that so bad?"

Sage, still trying to recover after you had caught him staring like a lovesick fool, almost forgets to reply, "...What?"

"Dinner with me!"

"Nothing's bad if it's with you." There it is again, that cocky smirk, not quite the old one but his all the same. You know by the twinkle in his amber eye that he does mean what he said, even though he's definitely deflecting.

"No, you terrible flirt. I meant, you looked so nervous!" As Sage struggles to find something to say—torn between denial and trying to justify himself—you shake your head fondly and continue, "It's just you and me, and this is just dinner. What's there to fear?"

"This is just dinner..." He repeats after you softly. Then he feels very silly for worrying so much in the first place. This is you, after all—the one who traversed dimensions for a washed-up merc because you still believed he was worth saving. There is no reason to act differently just to please you.

Still, Sage is glad to make your first date feel special, and he might actually want to try this again now that he doesn't worry as much about formalities.

>"A little trip."

A beach date is a heavy weight off Sage's chest. Not only is the beach his favorite place in all of Porrima (he doesn't frequent taverns as often as he did many months ago), but there are much fewer formalities to worry about

"Why are we going out so late?" you ask. "Isn't the point of the beach to cool off the summer heat?"

You're not wrong, but you see, for as much as he loved the liveliness of the city streets, Sage always found himself gravitating towards the beach, especially at night. It is pure sensory heaven, what with the cool sand sliding under his feet and the salty breeze combing through his hair. The stars are his only company, and all is quiet save the cacophony of waves crashing into the shore.

He braved these crashing waves once upon a time, and he remembers the thrill of not knowing what lurked beneath the inky waters. No matter how far they looked or how far they sailed, there seemed to be no ending to the ocean, only the eternal night sky meeting the sea by the horizon. It made him feel very, very small. If Balsam wasn't by his side, he would've felt very, very lonely too.

When they eventually made it to land, Sage only had the beach to turn to for a moment's reprieve. So whenever life bore down on him, he would go there late at night and look towards the horizon. Then he would remember how small the universe made him feel, and his worries, by extension, would also feel small—the world is far too big for his problems to be all that significant.

Even now, the beach brings his restless mind some peace, and to share that peace with someone so special to him—to embrace your warmth rather than punish himself by running away from it— means the world to Sage.

"Maybe I just want the beach all to ourselves," is what he actually answers, wiggling an eyebrow at you.

You arrive just as the sun starts hanging low in the sky, no longer overbearing with its heat, and the number of people on the beach dwindles. Sage spreads the blanket and sets down the wicker basket, then he watches as you rush to the water. "I wonder if seashells look any different on Astraea," you call out, "We should try to find some while the sun's still out."

So he trails after you as you follow the shoreline. Every few steps, you'd crouch down to comb through the wet sand while Sage gets distracted by the cool sea foam washing at his feet, its push and pull mesmerizing. His attention is drawn back to you when you show off the shells you find, then he carries them for you in a bucket and offers a hand to help you up before you move on to the next spot.

The sun finally kisses the sky goodbye, and the sky turns a lovely rosy color, so you rush to find your spot back on the beach before it goes dark. Guided by the last rays of light peeking over the horizon, you pour out the bottle you packed in the basket into two glasses and snack on pastries as you watch the first stars dot the sky.

With the sun's warmth gone and night's darkness taking over, you remain vulnerable to the biting cold, so Sage holds you closer and drapes his cape around the both of you, shielding you with his own warmth. Then he lies back, pulling you along so you're facing the stars, and presses a kiss to your hair. You hear him smack his lips and hum to himself, "Salty."

"Shut up."

Ask Sage about the stars, and you'll find that he's a sea of knowledge when it comes to navigating by celestial bodies and recounting stories about the constellations, many of which he had learned from sailors who humored the wharf rats by the docks. Tell him you don't get to see as many stars back on earth, and he'll promise to bring you here more often.

When you look down to the shore, you find these stars perfectly reflected on the waters. No, literally; there are clusters upon clusters of what seems to be bioluminescent creatures dotting the shoreline. Sage doesn't seem half as surprised as you are. "'Tis the season," he shrugs, "They like the weather here."

Dip your feet into the sea foam, and he'll hold your hand as you toe the line between land and sea. Before you venture into the water, Sage tucks your clothes into his cape so yours don't collect sand where you leave them back on shore.

Waist-deep in, the little creatures form shiny halos around you. Just as Sage had promised, they're pretty harmless, only lightly tickling you as they bounce off and away the further you wade through.

As the waves push against you, Sage remains your firm anchor, guiding you deeper and deeper until you float, and the shore grows smaller and smaller until you can barely make out the city lights.

There, held between inky waters and glittering sky, you understand what an otherworldly experience the beach is at night. You hold on even more tightly to Sage, your only source of warmth in this endless dark, and press a long kiss to his lips.

When you pull apart for air, though only for a mere inch, you softly hum against his lips, "Salty."

He bites down on your bottom lip, hard, but only for a quick moment before he lets go.

Whatever else happens in the water is only for the two of you to tell.

As you make your way to shore, Sage carries you on his back, and you stay like that with his cape keeping you warm all the way back home, where he tucks you into bed and kisses you goodnight.

taglist: @aaapplepie @asfucromper @bananacockatiel @bugfoil @crabbarts @de-dodox @fenista13 @mknight0000 @monstercherry @sweet-milky-tea705

#sage lesath #last legacy #fictif #fictif last legacy #last legacy sage #fictif sage #sage lesath x reader #sage lesath x mc #last legacy headcanons

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iamknicole · 2 years

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Masterlist

A/N: I'm still building this. So, if you're looking for fics of mine and they are not linked below, they're coming soon! Check the tags on this post in the meantime to find them!

Bloodline Family Series

Features Roman Reigns, Jey Uso, Jimmy Uso & OCs

Welcome Home

Parent Conference

Embarrassing Moment

Parent Conference

Big Boy Simba

Just Say No 2

Just Say No 3

Just Say No 4

Fed Up 1

Fed Up 2

A New Leaf

Wait … Before You Hit Me

Guess What

Fight

M&M’s

Freshmeat

House Party

Simba’s First Date

Heartbreak Pt. 1

Heartbreak Pt. 2

Clumsy

Studying

Fan

Daddy’s Got You

Todd

Throuple

Meet the Family

Meet the Washingtons

What’s Done in the Dark

Comes to the Light

Birthday Girl

Early Christmas Gift Planning

Dinner & Dessert

New Blessings

Congrats, Grad

Attack

Attack 2

Attack 3

Old Wounds

Old Wounds II

Old Wounds III

Tha Block is Hot

Knock, Knock

Goin’ Off

Lines

Dinner

Surprise

Boxes

Well

Let’s Talk

Draft Night

Bloodline Family Series Shorties

Features Roman Reigns, Jey Uso, Jimmy Uso & OCs

Do You Want It I’ll Buy It For You

Smoke

Haleigh & Carlito

Auntie A

You Don’t Have To Do All The Things You Do

I’m Not Gonna Stop Poking You

I Fell in Love With My Best Friend

It’s A Real Shame No One Asked For Your Opinion

You’re So Cute When You Pout Like That

That doesn’t Even Make Sense

Facetime

Child is Sick & Wants Daddy

Bedtime Temper Tantrum

Parental Paragraph

Is That Mistletoe?

My Parents Will Love You, Don’t Worry

Let’s Bake Cookies!

I Want A Picture with Santa

Daddy, Can you Help Me Write A Letter to Santa?

I Don’t Sing

Baby, Help Me Write Christmas Cards

It’s 1AM, Get Up!

Bloodline Family Series AU

Features Roman Reigns, Jey Uso, Jimmy Uso & OCs

Netflix and …

Privacy

Family Ties

Spinoff from BLFS

(I wrote all fics linked here but this series is co-run with @annoyedkayah2395, go to her blog for the installments that she's written)

Practice

First Day In Cali (Goes with “Todd”)

Video

Cali

1+1=3

Just Because

Coping

Hear Me Out

Carlito’s First Sleepover

Girl Talk

Let Me Tell You

Morgan & Chenice

Nightmare

Father’s Day Prep

Come Get Her

Family Court

Story Time

Dreamin’

Storm

Pop Up

Tragedy

Hey Alexa

Family Ties AU

(I wrote all fics linked here but this series is co-run with @annoyedkayah2395, go to her blog for the installments that she's written)

Water Balloons

But …

Studio

Co-Parenting

BLFS//FT Crossover

Excuse Me Miss

Icky

Haleigh’s Appointment

Man to Man

Jealous

Charlotte

BBQ

Home Alone

Grandpa King’s Farm

Sour Patch Kid

Birthday Party

Mama Tasha

Caught

Like It?

BLFS//FT AU Crossover

Haleigh’s Visitor

New Kid on the Block

One

Two

Three

Late

Mommy

Gifts

Unicorns & Rainbows

Awkward 2

Movin’ Out

Get Right

My Baby

Visiting

Responsibility

I’m Sorry

Mama Bear

Stop!

I’m Fine

Take Care of It

Runaway Bride

Firsts

Disrespect

First Trip

Kid Free

Have & Have Nots

(I wrote all fics linked her but this series is co-run with @annoyedkayah2395, go to her blog for the installments that she's written)

Officially A Malone

Gotta Go

Bonding

Confrontation

Mind Your Business

Emergency

Recovery

Pop Up

Formal Introduction

The Real Her

My Brother’s Keeper

Family Time

Father

Let’s Talk

The Morning After

Night Out

Checkmate

Saturday

Engagement Dinner

Another Emergency

Beat Down

Sweeties Day

Creepin’

What Are You Doing Here?

Skeletons 2

Why

For You

Blood

To Zion

WTF

First Day

Warning

Just In Case

Lunch

Dumb Broad

Lil Thug Life

Moving

Old Friends

Prep

A Tragic Day

Savannah

Thin Ice

Empty House

Officer

Full Story

Family Dinner

The Last Straw

Listen

Leaving

Unbelievable

Oops

Gee Wiz, It’s Christmas

Oh You Forgot?

Guests

Coach

Who Is She?

I’m Pregnant

Conley

Sneaky

Back In Town

Stop Playin’ With Me

Oliver & Company

Unbothered

Nerves

Plan B

Back Off

Sistas

The First Baby

Switch

You’re …

Caught

Enough

Sibling Rivalry

Another Willis

Have & Have Nots AU

10 Seconds

Trouble Man

Awkward

Be Nice

Dumbass

Tyson

New Leaf

One

Two

Just The Two of Us

One

Two

Three

Four

Five

Seven

Eight

Nine

Eleven

Twelve

Thirteen

Fourteen

Fifteen

Sixteen

Seventeen

Eighteen

Nineteen

Twenty

Twenty-One

Twenty-Two

SVU

Familiar Face

One

Two

Three

Four

Five

Trial Prep

A Special Victim

The Things We Have to Lose (Pt. 1)

The Canary

Features Roman Reigns & OCs

One

We All Want Love

Features Roman Reigns & OCs

Cast

Chapter One

Line in the Sand

Features Tama Tonga & OCs

One

Two

Three

Four

Five (Pt. 1)

Five (Pt. 2)

Six

Seven

Eight

Empire

(I wrote all fics linked her but this series is co-run with @annoyedkayah2395, go to her blog for the installments that she's written)

Prince of Rap

Group Project

Condo

Come Here

Faded Memories

Ghost

Come Clean

Ghost 2

Rocky

Meeting Ms. Taylor

McIntyre Family Series

Features Drew McIntyre, Montez Ford & OCs

Temper Tantrum

First Night Home

Bonding Time

Daddy, Can You Help Me Write A Letter to Santa?

I’m Pregnant

My Parents Will Love You

Is That A Mistletoe?

Sleeping Headcanon

Anger Headcanon

Kissing Headcnnon

New Years #4

Main Event

Champ

Champ 2

Deja Vú

Features Florian Munteanu & OCs

One

Two

Three

Four

Shorties

Daddy Daughter Time (Seth Rollins)

Twitter Fingers (Tama Tonga)

Baby’s First Shots (Tama Tonga)

Temper Tantrum (Samoa Joe)

First Day of School (Tama Tonga)

Baby’s First Doctor’s Appointment (Jeff Hardy)

Nightmare (Tama Tonga)

Child is Sick (Jeff Hardy)

Breakfast Time (Samoa Joe)

Daddy Daughter Bonding (Jinder Mahal)

Parental Paragraph (Big E)

Director's Commentary

Haleigh & Messiah

Jey & Apryl

Roman & Kandice

Best & Worst Traits of Characters

Drew & Danica

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isabelguerra · 1 year

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boys im gonna be honest i’m deep in my ‘i am never going to post wizard au’ era again both because of The Elephant In The Room and also its so much god damn work. its so much work. im not gonna do that in my free time. so since i know there were people invested in the fic series and worldlore or whatever why dont we just talk about it instead. its got wizards. its got izjo. you wanna hear about the 6 year long wizard izjo slowburn? i can talk for ages about the 6 year long wizard izjo slowburn.

eightfold is a giant spider isabel sneaks into the library when theyre first years but by second year shes gotten too big to keep hiding. isabel tries sneaking out to help her escape but johnny catches her in the act so he gets roped in and it turns into a whole heist sneaks to get eightfold out of the wizard castle unnoticed without getting caught. at midnight. saying bye is bittersweet but on the walk back they start bickering as usual and they hate each other so much but oops oh no wait this is fun. they’re having fun actually. haha get back here. and they get back 2 dorms safe and giggling and shoving each other and its nice and isabel opens up a little bit and says thanks for being there that was super annoying but cough uh. ended up being really nice and shes glad he was there. it was nice not being alone while saying bye to her best friend. so she GUESSES maybe he isnt SO bad or whatever. and then puts the bravado back on and is grinning wide and laughing again and haha oh man did he see that ghost in the corridor with the- but johnny is NOT listening. he is still stuck on ‘i had a nice time being around you’ (<- he is unused to positive reinforcement. he is accustomed to the norm of ‘(i think) people (my friends) like me because im good at exerting myself over others in a way that makes them feel bad but makes us feel good’ and not ‘i enjoyed being around you just for you’) and is not taking it well. also very jarred and offput by the new side of his wizard sport partner, very thrown off kilter. thrown off his groove. they NEVER have good times together. like they dont have BAD times but this has never been like A Thing before but she just said it so now it IS and. okay. maybe he had fun. maybe he DID have fun. and maybe shes good to push against cause she pushes back and maybe he can admire or at least respect the tenacity it takes to do that with him. and maybe it feels cool when that look get in her eye and he knows hes in for a good duel or like shes not looking like that now but this is fine too yknow. like the warm smiling and goofy laughing and dorm fireplace lighting and the tired soft look hes never seen her with before is fine no biggie he doesnt mind. but yes he does hes freaked out. so he bolts and thinks ‘surely that isn’t something i gotta worry about’ and then worries about for the next 6 years

isabel has a tendency to keep even her closest friends a little at bay but unfortunately thats very hard to do when you share a wizard commonroom with a loudmouthed fire hazard who is also your wizard sport partner. so they end up spending a lot of time together thanks to proximity. proximity after about 3 years turns to tentative friendship. tentative friendship after 4 years turns to ‘at the point of late night study sessions draped across each other on the couch because we have shit to do and im not letting you fail because if you do you wont be able to play in the next match and if we lose cause of it im kicking your ass’ (<- ‘i like hanging out with you’). the others come over often but theres only so much time you can spend with someone who is not in your wizard school group versus someone who is and is around you 24/7. so theyre not bffs yes but they might as well be. so one day theyre learning about some idk wizard beast and oops forgot to bow or whatever, johnny gets owned and so ollie&isabel take him 2 the nurse. the catalyst here is isabel knows by now that this is someone she cares about and considers a friend but shes REALLY caught off guard at just how MUCH this is stressing her out. not wizard game related. not in a bickery play way. she doesnt know when she started caring so much, but now she IS and hes someone important to her. and hes hurt. and shes going to stay in this god damn infirmary pacing and foot tapping and doing jumping jacks to get out the energy while her brain goes 100000 miles per second. and she does that for about 4 hours. anyway johnnys fine but even after hes fine isabel is still stuck with the ‘why was That my reaction’ realization. and the answer is she li

6th year max gets his ass thrown in the trio sorcerer championship and literally all his suffering is secondary because this is an izjo au. both their feelings are still there both of them still have no idea what to do with them or how to get them out in normal ass ways. so first night back to school johnny dares everyone to sneak into the woods after curfew and see who lasts longer. hes not 12 anymore but he is 16 which arguably is worse. the bullying has lessened the scoundrelism has amplified. everyone gets terrified. scatters. haha oh its you (record scratch) guess we’re walking around the spooky woods trying to find our friends! gee the atmosphere and flustered skittishness i get around you that makes me uncomfortable because i dont know how to deal with it SURE IS amplified right now! better fall back on familiar tactics and scenarios: friendly frustrated bickering and mild threats of violence. they get in a verbal fight and have a ‘would you shut up’ ‘why dont you make me’ ‘And Then They Kiss’ moment while the emotions are super heightened and isabel, who initiated it, isabel kissed him first, then proceeds to realize what she did and loses her god damn mind freaking out and apologizing while johnny stands there totally frozen and maybe for the first time ever shocked into total speechlessness. and then max falls out of a tree and ollie finds them and ed and rj are with them and sos stephen so theyre like HAHA OKAY GANG ! GREAT DARE ! LETS HEAD BACK NOW ! and johnny lays awake in bed that night kicking his feet in the air

wizard prom in december. they dont go together because theyre idiots and not at that point where asking someone (each other) to wizard prom is something they can do. but they both break away from the crowd at similar times and end up hanging out most of the night, which jsabel gets in trouble with her grandpa for, but before then she has a lot more fun. they ditch the wizard prom hall and go romp around campus and the sports pitch and they Dont Talk About What Happened In September. they dont. its unspoken. if you bring it back up that means its real. oh hey wait hold on whats that. what is that. is that- oh damn its that one plant. with the- yeah its the winter holiday kiss tradition plant. where like if its over you you gotta kiss. yeah like on the mouth. wow that’s crazy. ahahahah damn well yknow it IS the rules so they should probably- cause yknow like, so they, yknow, yeah. yeah like with lips and stuff. man thats sooooo lame and sucky too bad the plant rules say we gotta :/ shoot that sure blows :/ crazy how this world works. cringe. anyway so about that ki- and then max walks in .2 seconds beforehand and ruins the moment and its funny because i like torturing him. max tells ksabel Hey Uh We Gotta Do The Closing Dance Okay Bye. spells broken though and she leaves they do not kiss. but theyre both left with the knowledge that the other person WANTED to enough that they were willing to exploit a cliche social tradition just to find an excuse for it.

im so tired i keep fading jn and out of consciousness writing this. isabels wizard fear monster (franciso) fucks her up pretty badly. she runs out of the classroom back to the wizard dorms, youll never believe who goes after to check on her. T 60k+ slowburn, hurt/comfort, fluff, pep talks, Decisions Made Under High Emotions (second kiss) (johnny initiated kiss) (isabel is getting kissed this time) (hes standing right behind me isnt he) max walks in on them again. isabel is bluescreening. johny promptly leaves. max her best friend max is like ‘i would like to stop always seeing you guys about to lip lock’ isabel wants to be swallowed by the ground. i cant finish this im so tired. look at my comprehensive au romcom plotlines boy

#paranatural #nain tag i dont. EVEN care !

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bitletsanddrabbles · 1 year

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Random Prompt List

Five days before the end of NANOWRIMO I decided to start a random prompt list. I figured if I did ten a day, I would have fifty when I was done and I could post them for people to use as they saw fit - inspiration, challenges to friends, text on memes....whatever.

I was 100% successful except for the part where I forgot to post then when I was finished. Oops. Rectifying that now! Now, clearly these are rather Downton Abbey themed, but most of them are vague enough to apply to any fandom you like and even where there are names, those can be swapped out, so if you feel something you like for, say, Star Trek or something, don’t feel like it’s off limits. Go for it. If people are having fun, success has been had.

1. "If Mrs. Patmore murders you, I'm telling the jury it was suicide."

2. "Let the numbers be off! I'm not sitting at the same table as that man!"

3. "Oh bother."

4. "Downton's been a convalescence home and a movie studio. Why not this?"

5. "Where are we going to get a spare butler at this time of night?"

6. "There's not enough wine in the wine cellar for this."

7. "For the last time, put that back where you found it."

8. "Just don't tell the police. Or Carson."

9. "There is a God!"

10. "Help me with this and you can keep your job."

11. "I'd bet a year's wages it was Lady Mary."

12. "Don't you dare try to blame this on the dog!"

13. "Just think, we're getting paid to do this."

14. "Well, this situation calls for tea. And possibly a bludgeoning instrument of some sort."

15. "That's a grand idea. Why don't we simply teach the dog to carry a tray?"

16. "Did she give in gracefully, or do you need help burying the body?"

17. "Just imagine if we were American and buying nine Worth dresses per season."

18. "It could be worse, just don't ask me how."

19. "Are you certain this is a good idea?"

20. "How many bets Mrs. Patmore quits over this one?"

21. "What sort of mad suggestion are you going to make next? We get a cat?"

22. "Reading? Heavens, don't hurt yourself."

23. "You've not touched your food. Are you dying?"

24. "Try the blue one instead."

25. "That's hideous. Buy it."

26. "I hate arm garters. Why can't they just make shirts that fit?"

27. "Knife? Oh no, I slipped and cut myself on a collar."

28. "I'm not shaving in the dark, I'd be lucky if I slit my throat!"

29. "Oh, well, thank you Sweeny Todd."

30. "As if you'd survive reading anything less than Milton. A penny dreadful would finish you off!"

31. "You weren't a son either, so we're both failures."

32. "Oh dear, my actions had consequences. Blub blub."

33. "What's it like to have parents who care about you?"

34. "You want it so badly? Here. Enjoy."

35. "What do you mean she's run away to join the circus?"

36. "Well the surprise worked..."

37. "You're lucky I love you."

38. "That is not where that goes!"

39. "Dare I ask what happened to your dress?"

40. "Oh don't do that, it would make a mess of the roses."

41. "Dukes don't just vanish, unfortunately."

42. "I'm not paid enough to care about that."

43. "Now that the wireless is catching on, you should try and do something in that field. You have the face for it."

44. "Are you going to sell me into slavery if I ask for more?"

45. "If you want me to love you more then stop screaming when I have a headache."

46. "Oh don't do that! You'll hurt yourself."

47. "Oh go for it, I won't tattle."

48. "I was just committing the unholy sin of enjoying life for a few seconds."

49. "Would it kill you to smile? Wait, never mind, of course it would."

50. "Does anyone in this house happen to have some spare sanity?"

#downton abbey #downton abbey fanfiction #downton abbey writing prompts #downton abbey prompt challenge #john bates #daisy parker #thomas barrow #mrs. hughes #mr. carson #mrs. patmore #anna bates #robert crawley #cora crawley #mary crawley #edith crawley #joseph molesley #sarah o'brien #phyllis baxter #have at!

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imnotoverlyobsessive · 2 years

Text

Title of Your Sex Tape

Chapter Three: Lie Still, Close Your Eyes

AO3 one two three four five six seven eight

All my work is 18+.

A/N: realized I forgot to post this here. Oops. Here ya go

Take it home, take it off, ‘cause I can’t take anymore; it’s your touch, it’s your taste, it’s your dress on the floor. Take it home, take it off, ‘cause I’ve been waiting all night for you and this is what I’m gonna do. Ice, ice, mealy your heart; baby girl, let down your guard. Rush, rush, for that touch; just one taste, can’t get enough.- The White Tie Affair, Take It Home

Tim texted her all weekend. At first, she wondered why he was texting her. She figured maybe he was contacting her about a work thing, though she had no clue what that might be.

As it turned out, it was not at all a work thing. He never mentioned work once. He really had wanted to know more about her schooling. He told her about his family, that his father was French, like from France levels of French, that he’d spent summers there with his grandparents as a kid. His sister was an aspiring actress, and he wanted to be one, too, but had some difficulty getting into more than just commercials. She wondered if he was any good.

By the time Tuesday rolled around, Lea knew tons about him. She knew his middle name (Hal) and she knew his birthday (December 27th). She even knew where he’d gone to high school.

He’d opened up to her so quickly, so easily, as if the story of his life was written on the pages of a book sitting in front of her, just waiting to be read. She found herself confiding in him, too; she told him about her mother and sisters, that her father had abused her mother and was no longer around. At one point, he’d ask her outright if that was why she’d never kissed anyone before, and she confirmed his guess despite her embarrassment.

Still, despite knowing him quite well by the time they next saw one another, she was terribly nervous about seeing Tim again.

When he came to pick her up and she slid into the passenger side of his car, he was beaming at her, looking her up and down.

“Hi!” he exclaimed happily. “You look adorable.”

Lea blinked up at him. “Oh, um.” She gulped anxiously. “Thanks.”

He drove off, prattling away about something or other. When they arrived, he opened the car door for her and offered her his hand. She took it, stepping out onto the pavement.

Tim was grinning down at her like she the mere sight of her was the best thing he’d seen in his entire life, and he didn’t let go of her hand as they walked through the doors.

He’d shot for so long that it was early one evening several weeks later by the time he was driving her home, and he walked her to her apartment building, the bustling New Yorkers swerving around them.

Lea turned back to face him, her cheeks pink from the memory of the orgasm he’d given her earlier that day as they’d kissed hungrily. “Well,” she said awkwardly, “thanks for the ride home. I appreciate it.”

“Not a problem,” he told her with a smile, rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet. She gave him a little wave and turned towards the door of her building to go inside, but he stopped her. “Lea?”

Turning back towards him, unsure of what the tone in his voice meant— if it meant anything at all, for that matter. “Yeah?”

He shifted from one foot to the other, like he was anxious.

What on earth could a man like that have to be anxious about?

“Would you like to have dinner with me sometime?” The words came out rushed, flowing from his lips like a waterfall of syllables, and it took her a few seconds to decipher them.

Once she had, however, her eyes widened until she rather resembled an owl. “W— what?” Lea squeaked.

Tim brushed his hair from his eyes, shooting her a small smile. “Would you like to have dinner with me?” he repeated, a bit slower this time.

“I…” She couldn’t seem to formulate words. Or maybe they just refused to come out. She wasn’t sure. Either way, it took a few loud thuds of her heart before she was able to force any sound from vocal chords. “Wouldn’t, uh. Wouldn’t that be like… a conflict of interest or something?”

He laughed quietly, taking a step closer. “No, of course not. Just me thanking a beautiful girl for helping me do my job.” After a moment of him staring down at her, he added, “I honestly don’t know how I ever managed without you.”

She swallowed. “Glad I’m able to help, then.”

She considered his request as he looked down at her expectantly. Would she get in trouble? She knew she couldn’t, like… date him or anything, of course not. He had sex with other women, and regardless of the reason he was doing it, how was she supposed to deal with something like that? But he’d said it was just to thank her for helping him and she did enjoy his company.

What could be the harm?

“Yeah, okay,” she finally conceded. “If you’re sure it’s okay.”

“Positive.” He seemed so damn happy about her agreeing that she honestly didn’t know how to react. He was… disarmingly attractive.

It was distracting.

He took her out the following night after she got out of class.

She did her makeup and dressed in a fairly nice dress, but not so nice she thought she might be seen as trying too hard.

Okay, so maybe she liked him a little bit. Big deal. It’s not like anything would ever come of it, anyway. He’d never made a move on her outside of work, and that was most definitely for the best on account of the whole… pornstar thing.

He was sweet and courteous and, as she understood it, a perfect gentleman.

On Thursday, Lea found herself being tugged by the hand into his dressing room, and she was immediately pinned against the door with his lips on hers and his hands squeezing her hips.

She moaned into his mouth, wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing him back. Tim hiked up the skirt of her dress and slotted his knee between her legs, rubbing against her panties insistently.

She was panting by the time he moved on to her neck, kissing and sucking the sensitive skin there as she arched into him. “Touch me,” she begged.

“Fuck.” The word was a groan against her throat, his teeth grazing her flesh, and he reached up with one hand to squeeze her breast. “So big,” he murmured. “What I wouldn’t give to see them. Suck on them.”

She leaned further into his touch, and he squeezed a bit harder. “You want to see…?”

“I’ve never wanted to see a woman naked so badly in my life,” he informed her bluntly, pulling back from her slightly.

Lea gulped.

Okay, so looking up at him now, she realized two things. First, that her feelings towards him were most definitely of the romantic sort. Second, she trusted him enough to see her naked. This was odd, as they were friends and nothing more—outside of work, of course—, but she actually kind of wanted him to, which was a bizarre realization in and of itself.

“I can… I can show you,” she told him hesitantly. His eyes widened, and she continued. “If… if you’d like to see, I can show you.”

“You don’t have to,” he assured her hurriedly.

“I know,” she said with a small, hesitant smile. “I don’t mind. I trust you.”

He smirked at her, then took her by the hand and walked backwards towards the couch before plopping down on it.

She was wearing a casual, flowy green dress that ended just above her knees, and he gripped the edge of the material lightly, watching her flushed face intently. “Why don’t you strip for me?”

“W— what?” she squeaked.

Tim’s hand traveled up beneath her dress, just past the hem. Not too high, but just enough to make her core clench. “Stra-rip,” he enunciated slowly.

She watched the way his mouth moved with each syllable; he was mesmerizing. Then, slowly, ever since slowly, she lifted her dress up over her head and dropped it next to him on the couch. She was wearing bright pink panties—with her hair being red, she never got to wear pink where people could see it, and she quite liked pink—, and her bra was a soft cream color with a little bow in the middle.

Bras in Lea’s size were always rather uninspired.

“God,” Tim groaned, yanking his shirt off. “You’re so fucking sexy.”

“Thanks,” she said awkwardly, fidgeting with a curl that had fallen loose from behind her ear. He was pulling his pants off, his boxers following shortly after, and Lea flushed when she saw how hard he was.

He pumped himself with one hand and trailed a hand up her bare thigh with another. “Do you still want me to see you? Are you okay with that?”

Nodding, she nibbled on her lip before reaching behind her back and unclasping her bra. She slid the straps from her shoulders and, without looking at him, let the garment fall to the floor. She watched it do so and then continued to stare at it as she bent over to pull her panties down.

When she stood back up, he stared at her for a moment before reaching out to touch her again, his hands lightly brushing against her outer thighs, then sliding up to her waist. When he spoke, his voice was hoarse, rough. “Can I…”

Lea nodded jerkily, finding herself unable to speak just then.

His hands—so large, so warm, so soft—moved to cup her breasts gently, his thumbs swiping over her pebbling nipples, and she inhaled sharply.

“You like that?” Tim asked quietly, the words hesitant, almost. When she nodded wordlessly, he squeezed a bit harder. “You’re so beautiful. God, your tits… they’re unlike anything I’ve ever seen.”

She laughed shakily. “I seriously doubt that, given your choice in career.”

He shook his head, squeezing again and pinching each nipple between his thumb and forefinger, making her whimper. “No,” he breathed. “No one else’s have ever been attached to you, Lea.”

She gasped, arching into his touch.

“Fuck,” he groaned. “Can I suck on them? Please? I want them in my mouth.”

“Y— yeah,” she agreed.

He grabbed her by the hips and yanked her closer, latching onto one of her breasts immediately and beginning to suckle.

It felt incredible. She hadn’t been expecting it to feel quite so good, actually. Lea threw her head back, clutching his hair with a low moan. He growled against her skin, taking her nipple gently between his teeth. She gasped, pressing his face further into her breast. He reached around to grip her ass with both hands, squeezing it eagerly.

“So fuckin’ hot,” he muttered as he switched to the other breast.

“Tim,” she whimpered, “that feels—“

“You like it?”

She nodded shakily, her chest heaving.

Suddenly, he pulled back from her, gripping her arms and looking into her eyes intently. “Lea,” he began firmly. She blinked down at him in response, in somewhat of a daze. “Can I… can I eat you out?”

Her mouth fell open. “You… you wanna do that?” She swallowed anxiously.

Tim nodded vigorously. “I really, really want to. We don’t have to, of course, but…” He glanced down at the apex of her thighs. Most of what his eyes were searching for was concealed, she knew, but he could see some of her. When he spoke again, his voice was a little choked-sounding. “But god do I want to.”

She swallowed again—or tried to, anyway; her throat was too dry for her to manage it—before nodding. “Okay. If… if you want to.”

“Don’t feel like you have to,” he insisted firmly, taking her hands in his and squeezing them. “You can say no or tell me to stop or slow down, anything you want. Whatever you’re comfortable with is okay.”

“No, I…” Lea let out a slow, shaky exhale. “I trust you,” she said again. “And… I want you to.”

He groaned, pulling her down so she’d replaced his spot on the couch, and then he spread her legs and knelt between them.

Tim kissed her inner thigh softly, his gaze hot on hers. “You’re sure you want this?”

“Yes,” she breathed.

He smirked. “Good.” With that, he nipped her thigh, chuckling softly at her little gasp of surprise before trailing more kisses closer and closer to where she really wanted him.

Was she shaking? She might’ve been shaking. One of his hands left her leg to reach up and squeeze her breast, rolling her nipple between his long, nimble fingers.

Lea whimpered, arching into his touch. He was so close to where she needed him. She was clenching repeatedly on her own emptiness, and she thought she’d die if he didn’t give her what she needed.

Then, his fingertips finally—finally—brushed against her wetness, and he hummed low in his throat with interest.

“Fuck,” Tim murmured, “you’re soaked. You really want this, huh?”

Too embarrassed to confirm this verbally, she clenched her eyes shut and nodded once.

“No, no,” he told her placatingly, moving the hand on her breast up to cup her cheek. “Don’t be embarrassed.” Lea squinted her eyes open hesitantly to find Tim smiling softly up at her, like he was trying to reassure her. “I like that I made you this wet. It’s sexy.”

She gulped. “Really?”

“Mhm.” He nipped her inner thigh again, and she chewed the inside of her lip.

“I’m gonna make you feel so good, Lea,” he promised.

The way Tim was looking at her was heated, but it was also a question— he was asking for a final stamp of approval from her before continuing. She nodded once, and that was all he needed.

The hand on her cheek migrated back to squeeze her breast and tweak her nipple, and he dove in. Lea yelped when she felt soft, gentle licks along her slit, just barely brushing over her clit. Still, his eyes watched her face closely, reading her expressions and paying attention to each reaction he elicited from her.

“Can I put my fingers inside you?” he breathed, the heat of his exhalation on her wet, flushed skin making her shudder.

“Yes.”

The first finger slid in easily, and he curled it within her before pulling it out again and thrusting two fingers back into her this time.

She gasped, lifting her pelvis to meet his touch. “Fuck, you’re…” He inhaled sharply. “You’re really tight.”

Should she thank him? Was it a compliment? What—

Tim nipped her inner thigh again, and she yelped. “Stop overthinking,” he chided gently, looking up at her with dark eyes. “Don’t think. Just feel.” She nodded back at him unblinkingly, and he grinned. “I’m gonna lick you now, okay?”

“Okay,” she breathed, focusing on the way he was moving his fingers inside her and not on what he was about to do and how self-conscious it made her.

With that, he brushed his tongue against her clit in a feather-light touch, and Lea jolted. It was strange— warm and wet and altogether foreign. She wasn’t entirely sure what she’d been expecting, but it wasn’t this.

He licked her again, just as light as before, but more slowly this time. He thrust his fingers in and out of her, curling them each time, never taking his eyes off her face, not even for a second. Swirling the tip of his tongue around her clit, he reached up with his free hand to squeeze her breast and tweak her nipple.

Lea whimpered, arching her back and throwing her right arm across her eyes. He licked a bit faster, and she moaned low in her throat, reaching down with her left hand to hold him against her without even really thinking about it. He chuckled softly, and the vibrations made her clench around his thrusting fingers.

“Feel good?” he wanted to know, rubbing her clit with his thumb. She nodded jerkily, her eyes clenched shut beneath her arm. “Good.”

With that, he resumed licking her, his tongue moving faster now, making her breath come in short, gasping pants. The hand she had in his hair clenched, and he must’ve known she was getting close.

Tim seemed to know her body better than she did, which made sense as he’d been the one to give her her first-ever orgasm just a few weeks ago, but she wasn’t able to think about that. As it happened, she wasn’t able to think about anything at all. Her mind had been filled with fog, and she couldn’t formulate a single thought.

He took her clit between his lips and sucked on it gently, curling his fingers inside her again, and she exploded with a gasp of his name.

Lea panted, her arms collapsing at her sides. The room was still spinning when he pulled his fingers out of her and sat up, grinning like he’d just won the lottery.

He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and sat on the couch next to her.

“So,” Tim began, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and pulling her against him, “how’d you like it?”

She stared dazedly at the wall across from the couch. “That was…”

Words. Words were hard. How could she even describe that experience?

“…Amazing,” she finally decided.

“Good.”

Lea was about to open her mouth to say something—she wasn’t entirely sure what—, but there were several swift raps from the other side of the door that cut off her thought before it had entirely formed.

“We’re ready for you,” came the voice of a production assistant.

“‘Kay,” he called through the door.

Wait, she thought in a bit of a panic, I didn’t touch him, what if he’s not hard—

But then he stood, and she saw that he was, in fact, very hard.

“Here,” he told her quietly, handing her her clothes and waiting patiently as she dressed. “I’ll see you after, okay?”

Lea nodded, watching as he strolled from the room with that casual confidence she was quickly growing to adore, and tried to push down the jealousy brewing in her stomach at the knowledge of what he was about to go do.

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