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wileys-russo · 5 months ago

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in the blink of an eye (3) II a.putellas

part one part two

in the blink of an eye (3) II a.putellas

"alexia?"

your eyes almost fell out of your head in shock at the bewildered looking blonde stood at your front door.

you shouldn't have been surprised she remembered your old apartment given this is where the two of you first set down roots.

the place itself had been owned by your sister, rented out to you for next to nothing while you were drowning in student debt.

you'd kicked and fought and argued with natalia to charge you what she would a proper tenant, determined not to be a burden and take the handout, but your sister forever stubborn had dug her heels in and refused.

you owed a lot to natalia.

the two of you were always thick as thieves despite the fact she was five years older, if anything that just meant you idolized her more.

you had always looked up to her, wanted to follow in her footsteps and make something of yourself just like she did.

your sister had been drawn to helping others since she was a child, performing practice 'surgeries' on dolls and toys, giving CPR to your teddys and tending to and bandaging up every little scrape, bump, bruise or paper cut you'd had without a second thought.

which given your track record of being unable to sit still, instead found climbing trees, riding cardboard down hills and racing your bike everywhere without a helmet on, were not exactly few and far between.

right out of high school natalia had already been accepted into university on an early entry offer, and with impeccable grades and a resume of volunteering and community work near 4 pages long, it was to nobodys surprise.

she'd studied to be a paramedic, also with those same genes of being unable to sit still the thought of being stuck in a hospital all day long was not on the cards for her.

she'd met her husband on her first week of university, and you were the first person she told after he kissed her goodbye on the first date, something natalia never did.

you'd teased her for the way her cheeks flushed pink and she stumbled over her words, giggling like a school girl and giddy with delight it was a stark contrast to her normally rational and stern demeanor.

so maybe you'd known he was the one for her before she did.

you were her maid of honour at their wedding two years later, and alexia had been your date, in fact that was the first time the poor girl had been subjected to meeting your extended family and you'd been so nervous you downed half a bottle of champagne before even leaving for the ceremony itself.

you owed a lot to your sister.

she was, even if you refused to ever tell her so, a huge factor in why you'd pursued law so fiercely.

you could have dropped down to a part time degree to ease the mental load it took on you, but determined to show everyone that whatever she could do you could too, you pushed on.

you would make something of yourself and make her proud of you.

only now, now it was a shame you hadn't finished that degree. you hadn't graduated.

when you left barcelona for madrid you’d dropped down to a part time degree, doubling the time it would take to finish, choosing to fill your time wallowing in your own self pity party.

when your mami’s health had started to decline you’d missed exams, seminars, your first set of placement hours.

you’d fallen behind, the mountain you needed to climb to catch up growing bigger by the day as did the mental load that stretching yourself so thin between home and heart took on you.

so you’d deferred, pushed it right to the back of your mind which was already a mess with everything going on, not unlike that one drawer in everyone’s house where all the crap you never use goes, abandoned and lost but still there, somewhere.

and now you were back living under natalias roof, her handout. and even though you knew it wasn't true and that natalia was always proud of you no matter what, your sister now wouldn't ever be there to tell you so herself.

when you and alexia broke up you withdrew from everything, from everyone. you retreated inside the four walls of your own mind because with those up nobody could get in to hurt you again.

out of a cocktail of both guilt, fear and pain you pushed everyone away, fled to madrid and started over by yourself, changed universities, transferred your degree and started part time and rented a tiny little shoebox above a bar that thumped and pulsed and kept you up all night.

but you didn't care, didn't reach out for help when things went from bad to worse, because if nobody was close then not only could you spare yourself more pain but it meant you couldn't hurt anyone again.

like you knew you'd hurt alexia.

your sister had tried to pull you out of that shell, pushing on forward despite how many barriers you put up to try and slow her down. because thats not who natalia was, giving up when things got hard was not what she did.

but then she'd fallen pregnant and your mami’s health dropped and just like after that date all those years ago you were the first person she called, seven times before you finally picked up to be exact, and finding out the news began to change things.

your icy outer shell began to melt away. you'd come back home for holidays and birthdays, and then for weekends, and then just because.

when mariposa was born you saw a whole new side to your sister. she'd always been one of the most empathetic and caring human beings, and natalia was the best sister you could have asked for, however, natalia was made to be a mother.

your own mami was shocked at how easily she adapted, days on end without sleep seeming to not phase her as routines were cemented and bonds formed, and posie had been drowned with love and affection from the moment she entered the world as natalias daughter.

but now, now she was gone.

you wished you'd called her more, told her how much she meant to you instead of just assuming she knew, told her you loved her, how proud you were of her.

your sisters job as a paramedic had been to save lives, and yet within seconds her own was gone and there wasn't a single thing anyone could do about it, and that feeling of helplessness, it had broken you.

but your life and your feelings and your grief didn't matter anymore. your sister has entrusted you from the moment mariposa was born to be not only her tia

"alexia?" you repeated yourself as she looked like a little kid caught with their hand in the cookie jar, guilt in her eyes and mouth slightly agape ready to hurry out an excuse about why she was doing what she was, calves tense like she was ready to bolt in the other direction at the drop of a hat.

only really, alexia had no excuse, had no words.

at the sight of you up close and personal, a real living breathing person and not merely a haunted figment of her imagination, after it had been so long the girls mouth ran dry and her head drained like a bathtub of any and all logical thought.

"eh...hola?" the blonde managed out, jolting slightly as there was an ear piercing scream behind you and you moved to push the door closed a little more, clearly sheltering away whatever was going on behind you.

"hola." you replied back in shock, both of you just looking one another up and down, until the crying behind you grew louder and you seemed to snap out of the haze which had befallen you in your ex girlfriends presence.

"alexia i- lo siento now is really not a good time." you cringed as posie screamed again and there was a clatter where she threw her cup across the room, having an absolute meltdown over the fact you'd refused to let her have a chocolate muffin for dinner instead of the chicken and rice you'd cooked.

as much as you did struggle to say no to her and you really wanted to give her everything she wanted and more, you also knew part of your role as her guardian was to make sure she was eating right and staying healthy.

plus the three year old was already long overdue a nap, her normal schedule thrown off with the mid afternoon meeting with ana, and you knew if you pumped her full of sugar she'd not go down and the rest of the day would be a nightmare.

"i-no lo siento i should have told you i was coming. well i mean i could not have but i just saw you today and i do not have your number and i just-well i-" alexia struggled to string together a sentence and an ever so slight glimpse of a smile made its way to your lips.

"-and here you are." you finished it for her as the catalan blushed slightly and nodded. “lucky guess.” you forced a smile, and at the rosy pink flush tinting her tanned skin you had a strange feeling settle in your stomach.

it wasn't something new, but it wasn't something exactly all that familiar. it felt like someone was trying to tie up all your innards into a balloon animal, twisting and pinching and tugging at parts that felt both foreign and peculiar.

you couldn't quite make heads or tails of it but the one thing that was obvious was the cause of all these strange new feelings, was alexia.

though just like before you were yanked out of your haze by the sound of something smashing, head ducking around the door to see your niece had managed to kick away the top of her high chair and was stood up and screaming now.

"oye, vuelve a sentarte!" you yelled to her as she screamed and wailed unhappily, tiny face glowing red as you began to worry she might pass out as the colour in her cheeks grew brighter by the second.

"te odio tía! te odio!" posie screamed and your heart broke to see her so distraught and not know the right way to deal with it. however so focused on the girl you missed the twelve different emotions which flashed across your ex's face as she was sure she'd misheard what was going on inside.

tía?

"i-dame un minuto." you excused yourself quickly, the door closing back in alexias face before she could even process her thoughts let alone say a single syllable.

"mariposa. i am trying my best here nena! por favor you need to eat real food." you begged, grabbing her under the arms and trying to sit her back down though the moment you touched her she began to thrash and kick and yell.

"posie-" you grunted as her foot dug into your stomach and exhaled shakily trying to keep your head as calm as you could. but when nothing you said or tried worked, and with still finding your comfort ability with discipline, you went for plan b.

giving her what she wanted, rewarding her bad behaviour. but you were a bleeding heart on your worst days and when she started to cry for her mami, you crumbled.

"vale! you can have the muffin posie just stop crying and screaming! and we do not kick and hit people!" you yelled, the girl falling silent for a moment as you exhaled when she rag dolled and went limp in your arms.

but it would seem you let your guard down too soon.

you hissed and almost dropped her as her little teeth sank into the flesh of your hand, grunting in pain and placing her down on the floor where she stomped her foot and her eyes welled back up with tears.

"bebita-" you inhaled sharply and squatted down to her height, lowering the volume of your voice and readying yourself to soothe her.

but it was too late, the damage was done and with another yell that she hated you she took off, little feet thumping against the floorboards and you winced as her door slammed.

and people thought only teenagers did that.

you knew what your sister would do, which was to not even have gotten into this situation in the first place.

mariposa had been a near perfect baby, hardly ever crying, hardly ever throwing a tantrum.

of course there were times she would become grizzly or overtired or upset, but natalia always knew exactly what to do, exactly what to say, she always knew exactly what everyone else needed from her.

but you, you were clueless.

you knew rationally what you should do, go after her and check in on the three year old who'd just locked herself in her room in a fit of emotional turmoil.

but selfishly just needing a minute for yourself you sank to the floor with your forehead pressed against your palms, blocking out everything and everyone for just a brief moment of reprise, a glimpse of delusion that this wasn't your reality now.

if you stopped for just a second you could convince yourself you were simply babysitting.

natalia and her husband were off having some well earned alone time together, a date perhaps they'd have called it because your sister was always telling you that just because you got married not to let the romance or the spontaneity of the relationship die off for a routine.

but you never did get married, you couldn't even handle an engagement. and you weren't babysitting, your sister wasn't away on a date, she was never coming back, and you needed to swallow that pill and stop deluding yourself.

so with a deep inhale through your nose and a shaky exhale from your mouth, you pushed yourself up to your feet and forcing them one in front of the other made your way through the carnage of your apartment and toward posie's room.

thankfully it didn't have a lock, however you struggled to open it, hitting it lightly with your shoulder as something was clearly blocking it.

finally wiggling it open enough for your body to slide through you realized it was your nieces blanket, and your heart broke at the sight of her toys and bedding all flung around the room.

because though you could stop and take a moment and process your thoughts and emotions, the reality was that mariposa was three years old and didn't quite yet that ability.

you supposed it was your responsibility now to provide an environment where she learned, and where you set a good example.

great job you were doing of that so far.

you were drowning and struggling to tread water enough just to keep your head from going under all together.

"oh mi amorcito." you sighed quietly, your stomach twisting with guilt seeing your niece had clearly exhausted herself, slumped down in the corner buried in a small mountain of her softer toys with her favorite teddy clutched in a death grip to her chest, thumb of her other hand jammed in her mouth and passed out asleep.

quickly hurrying to re-make her bed you very gently picked her up, not even breathing as you feared you'd wake her, but she slept on soundly as you carefully tucked her into bed, resisting the urge to just lay down with her and hold her so tightly, and to never let go.

kissing her forehead you brushed her hair out of her face, just staring at her for a moment in adoration.

up close she really looked so much like your sister, her mami.

the downward slope of her little button nose, the dimples in the corner of her mouth where she smiled, the little cowlicks in her fringe.

materialistic objects aside, mariposa was really all that you had left to tether you to natalia. your sister clearly trusted you even if you couldn’t work out for the life of you why, and you knew that even if you couldn’t see her anymore, that she was looking down on you and on her daughter.

and you’d never been so determined in your whole entire life, not to let her down.

with a soft smile you tucked her in a little tighter and slowly backed out of the room, leaving the door just ajar and exhaling a deep breath you’d not even realised you were holding.

then as you stared at the semi destroyed living room, food and toys and parts of the high chair flung all across the room, it clicked.

alexia.

“hijo de puta!” you cursed in realization, hurrying back to the front door and tugging it open, not surprised but maybe just a little disappointed to find not a soul in sight.

then again it has been easily a half hour since you slammed the door in her face, perhaps even more. had she really even been there in the first place?

given the lack of sleep you were currently navigating, delusions and apparitions certainly weren't off the table.

with a sigh and what seemed like the millionth shake of your head just that day, you softly closed and relocked the front door, rubbing your temples to soothe the splitting headache you felt coming on before it had even arrived.

you wanted nothing more than to sleep. to simply curl up into a tiny little ball under the covers, creating a little cocoon just like when you couldn’t have been any older than posie. just holding yourself and sleeping until all of this went away, or perhaps until they invented a time machine.

but you now had responsibilities and needs and a little human that relied on you that were far far more important than any of your own, and you’d be damned if you let a single other bad thing happen to that little girl, or to taint the legacy of your sister which mariposa held in her tiny little fists.

so with a nod and shifting your mindset you set off, picking things up and placing them back where they belonged, trying to create even a false sense of organisation and like you absolutely knew what you were doing.

however you were interrupted before you even had much of a chance to begin, knocks sounding at the door as you had an armful of toys and frowned in confusion.

you prayed to every god you knew that it wasn’t ana with a surprise drop in, but normally off the record she let you know when she was coming.

though having learned how the system worked from your time in law school you knew that if someone found out it would mean a change of caseworker.

and you couldn't afford mistakes like that, you would make this work, you had to.

dropping the armful of toys in the little basket where they normally lived you hurried to the door, flicking the deadbolt off and peering out the little peephole, eyebrows shooting up in surprise at who looked right back at you.

"alexia?" you repeated yet again, the blonde stood back in front of the door with a paper bag tucked under her arm and a tray of two coffees in hand, rubbing the back of her neck with an odd look on her face.

"oye, you uh you seemed like you may need this." the girl smiled awkwardly holding up the trays of coffee and you almost threw up that after all of these years she still remembered how you liked yours.

always iced, two sugars, oat milk.

in a different time there would be a teasing remark on her rosy pink lips about how she never understood no matter the weather it was always an iced coffee, your strange aversion to warm beverages of all kinds forever amusing to her.

you almost lay in wait for her to hold the tray above her head, tap her lips with her free hand and demand a kiss in thanks before she'd hand over the caffeine held hostage.

many a time you'd been far too grumpy and simply tried to tackle it out of her grasp, not in the mood for her games but that usually just resulted in her effortlessly holding you off with a smug little smirk.

or ever so occasionally...the two of you would end up on the floor and doused with coffee, a pause of silence before one of you would crack and laugh, holding your stomachs as you'd just laugh. and laugh, and laugh and laugh, until eventually you'd both roll into one anothers arms, giggling and exchanging words between the meeting of your lips. words which were normally poking fun at your impatience.

you wondered if she had found someone else to laugh with now.

"i-gracias." you exhaled with a slight smile, subtly pinching your hip beneath the fabric of your shirt to make sure you weren't having some sort of sleep deprived manic episode and conjuring her up in your mind.

because subconsciously you don't think she ever left, not really, and it wasn't for a lack of trying to kick her out of your memories and your head on your behalf, that was for certain.

"do you...want to come in?" you winced at how forced it sounded, a flicker of insecurity and doubt in the footballers eyes for a second.

"maybe this was a mistake. lo siento i just saw you and-" alexia struggled to string her words together, cursing inwardly for how tongue tied you still had her.

if the girl was really really honest with herself, you still had her wrapped right around your little finger.

"-and here you are." you finished for her once more, alexias stomach flipping at the soft smile sent her way. "you came all the way here, you brought coffee. please, come in." you spoke a little more sure of yourself this time, opening the door a little more and moving aside.

"you are sure?" alexia questioned, hovering right in the door way. "no, are you?" you rebutted as she opened and closed her mouth before shaking her head and returning your smile, stepping inside.

"i do get dibs on whatever is in that bag though." you joked with another small smile as she placed the coffees down on the kitchen counter and you locked the door again, trying to bait yourself into a false sense of security that this wasn't a terrible idea, and a bizaree one at that.

only as you turned back around you realised the state your apartment was actually still in, the same fog from before having hazed your mind in the presence of your ex.

"oh dios mio. uh just give me a second!" you blushed with embarrassment and rushed around, shoving things away and kicking them into corners, desperately trying to pull the cover back over the hot mess express your life really was.

"no no alexia por favor you do not need to-" you begged as you noticed alexia had grabbed some paper towel and started to clean the table where the remains of posie's lunch had been flung across it.

but a firm look from the older girl stopped you in your tracks and you knew better than to try and argue with her, mumbling a quiet thank you as a silence fell between the pair of you.

it wasn't exactly comfortable, but it certainly wasn't as tense as you'd have thought as you finally put away the last of the things scattered across the living room, well as best as you could anyway.

"lo siento i do not mean to-it has been a day." you admitted with a small sigh, accepting the coffee alexia held out to you as the pair of you took a seat at the table across from one another, purposefully avoiding making any actual eye contact.

"so, how are you?" you broke first, swallowing your mouthful of coffee and stirring it absentmindedly. "bien, y tú?" alexia answered as you nodded. "bien, bien."

"really?" "really?"

at your shared thought you both looked up and blushed as your eyes met, a small smile curling into your lips as you sipped on your coffee. "i mean it has been a long time ale." you admitted as the footballer hummed.

"almost four years."

"look alexia you heard the screaming, and you saw me at the cafe. i am sure you have questions, just ask them." you encouraged, the girl feeling your eyes burn a hole in her forehead.

"she is very cute, the nena." alexia started, still scrambling to try and piece together any logical thoughts as her heartbeat pounded in her ears like a freight train.

"mariposa, but we call her posie." you smiled, glancing behind you to the bedroom where you knew she was soundly asleep. "she is not always that loud either." you attempted to joke, wincing at the painful awkwardness of your delivery.

"is she yours?" alexia blurted out, her mouth and her brain missing a step in which they communicated about what the other was doing, a short bark of laughter leaving your lips at her forwardness.

"no, she's natalia's." you answered and alexia couldn't even begin to describe the odd sense of relief which flooded her body. "oh i did not-the woman you were with, i thought-" alexia's brain finally kicked in at that point and she clamped her mouth shut again.

"you thought?" you tried to coax the rest of the sentence out to her but it would appear under lock and key as alexia shook her head with a polite smile. “nothing, sin importar.”

“you thought she was mine.” you realized a split second later, eyebrows shooting up in surprise. the blush which returned right to the catalans cheeks across the table from you all the confirmation you needed.

"you thought ana-oh no, no no." you shook your head firmly, not missing the ever so slight flash of relief which flickered through alexia's eyes like a lightning strike, there one second and gone the next.

"there is a lot to explain." you sighed, dragging your hands down your face tiredly. "you do not have to, por favor i did not come here to interrogate you." alexia promised, hand starting to just inch toward yours before she stopped herself, immediately shoving it down into her lap with a frown.

"i want to." you pushed a little firmer as you caught your exes eye and she paused before nodding. "where to even start?" you laughed humourlessly, running a hand through your hair and looking off across the room.

"the woman i was with, her name is ana, she is a social worker with child services." you began after a moment. "she is in charge of the...well the investigation, into if i am the best full time carer for mariposa." you continued, alexia listening attentively to your every word.

"natalia-" you squeezed your eyes shut, looking up to the roof and as she suddenly put the pieces together alexia's heart shattered.

"oh. no por favor you do not need to-" "está bien." you quipped shortly as alexia fell silent again and you took a very deep breath.

" they went to the movies, out for dinner, a normal night. i was home for the weekend and i babysat posie, to give them some time together." you continued, swallowing the sob which sat poised and ready to strike.

"they were driving home-" you paused and exhaled shakily, looking back up to the roof as tears brimmed your eyes and you quickly wiped them away.

"there was a man who was very drunk, he was driving, fell asleep at the wheel and swerved into the other lane where a truck was coming." you inhaled sharply as you felt a sharp stab to your side.

"the truck also swerved, lost control and went into the other lane and...and drove right into them. they were both killed on impact." you forced out, squeezing your eyes shut and trying to focus on your breathing.

you weren't sure how long that horrible silence lasted, but alexia didn't even trust herself enough to breathe, worried of what you might think and ignoring every urge she had to climb across the table and take you into her arms.

"when mariposa was born, i was named as not just her tía but also her godmother. natalia's husband, he has no family around. my mami, she is too old and her arthritis is too bad to look after herself let alone a child." you revealed, steadying yourself slightly now as you glanced up and chanced a look to your ex.

"so posie lives with me now. but it is all temporary until we have family court and i can legally adopt her, which is why child services is involved, why i was meeting with ana, why i moved back here. barcelona is all posie has ever known, where natalia....was. i will not rip her away from what little anchors she has just for me. and i will not see her live with strangers. i will not fail her, i will not fail natalia." you whispered, swallowing with a determined nod that alexia matched.

"please do not say you are sorry. i-i have had enough of the pity alexia, of the sympathy. por favor i cannot take any more!" you cut her off before she even began, the apology dying in the older girls mouth as her features softened and she nodded.

another silence fell, suffocating and awkward, as alexia wracked her brain for where to go next, what to say next.

"can i, can i say something?" alexia asked hesitantly as you nodded this time, finger tracing circles against the cool plastic of the coffee cup in your hand.

a habit which had alexia practically feel the ghost of your touch across the back of her hand, the place where your fingers used to absentmindedly touch and poke and trace when you were anxious.

"i know it has been years but, i owe you an apology." alexia swallowed the hardened lump in her throat, nearing the edge of the cliff of her comfort ability, ready to dive headfirst into what was likely going to be a very awkward conversation.

"i should not have pushed you, about the engagement. i should not have left that night. i should have waited, listened, i was selfish. i would like to say i was just young and hurt but...i would be lying if i said i have not regretted it for many many years." alexia forced out, pushing the straw around her cup as her eyes were trained down to the tabletop.

"oh alexia." you sighed out, a pained smile on your face and a storm cloud of emotion brewing behind the surface of your features, only visible through your eyes which alexia looked up and found herself lost in.

"i should have listened to you, heard you out. you do not need to be sorry, you were ready to take that next step and, and well i think i was just scared of what that meant. overwhelmed and nervous, but i should known it only came from a place of love, of your love for me." you admitted, both of you falling quiet as you just stared at one another, the longing look you gave one another maybe saying more than any words could.

"i still love you." oh alexia could have kicked herself in the head at that, the words tumbling out from her lips before she could clamp them shut, the panic which flooded your face having her wish the floor would suddenly swallow her up.

"ale-"

"oh dios mio, lo siento mucho! i just-i just meant i still have love, for you?" alexia tried rapidly to backpedal, but any attempts she made would be just as useful as trying to shove back the toothpaste of her words back into the tiny tiny tube of her mind.

"alexia. i do not think you have ever really left my mind but-" you paused to sigh deeply, sinking down into your chair as you carefully thought out your next words.

"-but my life is a mess right now ale, un desastre. i can barely care for myself, meet my needs. everything i have needs to go to posie and making sure she stays with me and has the best life possible it is the least i can do for natalia and-" you were shocked into silence as a hand reached out, a slender finger wiping the tear which threatened to fall from the corner of your eye, one you hadn't even felt coming but alexia saw long before it appeared.

your skin tingled at her touch and her thumb ever so lightly traced the curve of your jaw before her arm was pulled back and she gave you a small smile and a nod of understanding.

"i know, you do not need to explain yourself to me." alexia promised, still nodding as you found yourself joining her, jolting slightly at the scrape of her chair against the floorboards and you hurried to stand as well.

you watched as her eyes flickered around the room for a moment, landing on the paper bag of pastries which was now likely cold and still untouched.

her head turned again and she grabbed the whiteboard marker off your fridge, tearing off a section of the bag and scribbling something down.

as she moved again your feet followed with a mind of their own to the door where alexia now hovered, fist clenched tightly around the small scrap of brown paper in her palm.

"i know you, and i know that you are struggling with this. and i know that you would rather send yourself under and push mariposa up to float. but there are life rings you can reach out for, help that there is no shame in taking." alexia spoke firmly but not unkindly as you quickly used the back of your hand to wipe away another tear which threatened to fall.

"i will always have love for you. and if you need a friend, i am always here. if you need help, i will always be there. please do not drown yourself for the sake of your pride amor, you need to look after yourself to be able to look after posie, sí?" you found yourself nodding at her words, feeling her slip the piece of paper into your hand from her own.

"so take care of yourself, if not for anyone then for her, and for your hermana. natalia would be so proud of you, no matter what. she chose you, she knew posie would be best in your care. she chose you! you could never let her down." alexia's voice dropped to barely above a whisper as all you could do was nod and within seconds you were melting into her tight embrace.

"please look after yourself, call me if you need me, en cualquier momento." her lips softly kissed your cheek, lingering there for a moment with one final squeeze of your smaller form against hers, and then you blinked, and she was gone.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

did i say this would only have three parts? yes.

did i lie? …yes.

#alexia putellas imagine #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas #woso x reader #woso community #woso #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso blurbs

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itwasntimethatdidit40 · 1 month ago

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A good grade.

Pairing: Perv Art Professor!Joel x afab!reader Words count: 4844 Rating: +18, MDNI Summary: You always thought you would have a future in the art world, until you met Mr. Miller, your professor who decided to make your life hell. What are you willing to do for a good grade? Tags: perv!Joel, soft!Joel, power imbalance, degradation, smut, blackmail, reader is described having female genitalia, no other description of her is given, unspecified age gap (in my mind 24/45 but you can imagine whatever, they’re both grown up anyway), unprotected p in v (reader is on the pill but you know, do better irl), oral (f receiving), mention of blowjob, edging, edging with a brush, creampie, pet names, slurs, Joel has a dirty mouth, a lot of swearing, some reader's thoughts marked in italics.

Disclaimers: English is not my first language, very poorly proofread, no beta, it's all my fault and I'm very sorry! I like art but I'm not an expert, I've never taken lessons (well, in high school I did but it was art history and it was only theoretical) and I don't really know how they work, I made it all up so if it doesn't adhere to reality please excuse me. I hope you like it anyway, the other morning I woke up with the idea of Joel painting me as one of his French girls (heheheheh) and I started writing this thing 💀

If anyone wants to be added or removed from the taglist, please let me know. Thanks to anyone who reads, I hope you like it ♥️

You’ve always loved art, since high school it’s always been your favorite subject and drawing and painting your outlet, your way of expressing yourself. Your teachers have always praised you, considering your works not only perfectly executed but significant, mature, full of pathos. Everyone has always told you that you had an eye for recognizing artistic value, you’ve always been the best in your class and you’ve worked hard to get here.

You graduated with excellent grades and were accepted into a prestigious master's program. You would like to become a professional artist or at least an art critic.

You had a bright future ahead of you, until you met Professor Joel Miller.

He has done nothing but criticize you, your skills and your work from the very first day.

And he always does it deliberately, in front of everyone else. No matter how hard you try, you never get more than F for every work you submit. The disdain with which he treats you makes you feel like a failure and your breath die in your throat every time he lays eyes on you and says the most hateful words you’ve ever heard about yourself. Today it happened again. You spent sleepless nights working on this portrait, begging the model called by Professor Miller to see you after class hours. You even offered to pay her and she was kind, she didn’t ask for an outrageous amount despite the fact that she could have taken much more lucrative jobs instead of posing for you. You’re just a master’s student trying to support herself by working nights in a bar.

“What is this?” he thundered looking at your painting “You are only getting worse, miss, I have never seen anything like this. It is indecent that a person like you tries to make art, it should be prohibited by law. Look at this, wrong proportions, no harmony, no attention to detail, nothing. This does not even look like the same person I had pose for hours in front of you. You should be ashamed to present a work like this after 6 months of course”

You won't be able to finish your master's degree unless you get a passing grade in Professor Miller's course, but he doesn't seem at all inclined to give you even a measly D.

It’s a nightmare.

You'd be forced to start all over again, ask your parents for financial help, which is the last thing you want to do when they've already sacrificed so much to help you pay for college, or do the unthinkable and give up on all your dreams, the career you have cultivated with strength and passion throughout your life up until now.

You decide to make a last-ditch effort and try to talk to Mr Miller during his office hours.

You've always avoided it until now because you thought things would get better but it's the third F you get and you can't afford to go on like this.

The idea of being alone with him doesn't excite you at all, but you hate losing everything you've worked so hard for even more.

You take a deep breath before knocking on the door, terrified of what he might say to you.

Mr Miller is also an established artist and his work has been appreciated abroad so his disapproval could really preclude you from many opportunities.

“Come in” even from behind closed door his voice sends shivers down your spine.

You walk in muttering “good afternoon” feeling like a complete idiot, you are already convinced that it was a mistake to come to him, nothing will change his mind.

Joel is sitting behind his desk, frowning as he corrects tests. He looks up from the papers only when you are in front of him “Oh. it's you,” he says in his usual dismissive tone of voice “What do you want miss?”

You clear your throat and murmur, “I...” his gaze is already back on the tests, he doesn't even look at your face as he fills the paper with red marks and writes a big circled F at the top, the assignment of some other hapless person like you who will find himself failing his class. Incredible anger mounts in your body, you clench your fists and say "excuse me" in a stern voice.

It infuriates you, it's maddening how he can't even treat you as a human being for a second.

"What do you want?" he asks annoyed looking back up at you "and be quick about it, you are wasting my time."

“I'd like to know what I need to do to have you evaluate me favorably” you try to keep your tone as detached and respectful as possible even though you despise the man in front of you with every fiber of your body.

“Nothing, you can't do anything, I thought you had figured it out by now, are you also stupid besides not having the slightest talent?”

“Actually...fuck, I don't think I am that bad. And I think you are judging me too harshly,” you spit out feeling tears stinging your eyes. You promised yourself to keep calm but the way he is treating you only makes you want to insult him.

“I advise you to moderate your tone if you don't want to be expelled as well as failed in my class.”

He has the upper hand, you can't do anything about it. A sense of frustration and helplessness crackles under your skin as you plead with him, “Please Mr Miller there must be something I can do to change things. Anything...I…I don't want to fail.”

An evil grin paints on his face “how much do you care about it?”

“It's the only thing I care about, please, art means everything to me” you look at him feeling your whole essence crumble in front of him, you are desperate and tired of struggling, you just want to find a way to work things out. You have very good grades in all the other courses, he is the only one stopping you from achieving what you want most in the world.

“Actually you could do something to make it better,” Joel suggests, and you cry, ”Please, I'll do anything.”

“Anything?” he probes ”are you sure?” His smug, dangerous expression unnerves you, maybe you shouldn't have made yourself so vulnerable in front of him, but there's no turning back now. "Yes," you shriek.

He leans against the back of the chair while continuing to sneer under his mustache “Well, then I have an offer for you. I'm working on a series of paintings of women, you could pose for me.”

“Me?” you ask confused, the last thing you expected was for him to ask you to paint you.

“Why not, if nothing else you're pretty,” he admits, and it's the first nice thing about you that's ever come out of his mouth.

You wonder what the scam is behind his proposal, it can't be that easy, he's probably going to ask you to pose with some repulsive animal or in a way that makes you look completely idiotic or he's just pretending that this is the solution but then he's going to blackmail you and make you regret setting foot in his office.

He writes something on a post-it note and hands it to you “Meet me at this address tomorrow night at 8” he orders you “don't be late”

“I really...” you try to say.

“What? Is there something more urgent you need to do besides securing good grades?” he raises an eyebrow scrutinizing your astonished face.

“No it's just that...I'm supposed to be working at that time.” You mutter.

“Well get your shift changed, or ask someone to fill in for you, pretend to be sick, I don't care, just show up.” He barks at you.

“Okay,” you agree. You can't say no, it's your last resort, either that or total defeat.

You walk out of his office with the feeling that you have gotten into big trouble.

_____________________________

You get confirmation of this the next day when you show up at the address written by Professor Joel. It's on a suburban street with little traffic, in front of you is what looks like an abandoned former factory. A blast of cold air makes you shiver as you ring an old intercom near the front door. You huddle in your coat, wondering where the hell you are. Maybe he gave you the wrong address just to make fun of you, you took two buses to get here, at the very least you'll soon find out your professor isn't even here.

Surprisingly, he answers you instead, his thick voice ordering you to come up. You enter through the doorway into a dusty, bare lobby, only an old freight elevator in front of you. You push the button and the elevator car begins to descend with a sinister, metallic sound. "What the hell is this place?” you ask yourself "my god, I'm going to end up dead and thrown in a dumpster". You get on the elevator with your heart in your throat praying that there isn't a serial killer waiting for you on the other side.

The doors suddenly open wide onto a large room with concrete columns. You step out and look around, there is a large table in the corner, chock full of artists' materials, tempera, canvases, oil paints, watercolors, all thrown in bulk. Various canvases are resting on pedestals scattered around the room, and others lie leaning against the wall. There is an old leather couch in the corner and a double mattress resting on wooden pallets on the other side. Several rugs are spread on the floor. It's all messy and chaotic, but it definitely has the look of an art studio.

"Oh, you're here at last," Joel grunts, popping up from behind a pillar holding a dirty brush stained with red tempera.

He is wearing a pair of frayed jeans and a white T-shirt stained in paint, he is disheveled and barefoot.

He doesn't even look like your professor; he always wears suits and perfectly ironed shirts at university.

Two large leaded windows divided into small squares open on the wall in front of you.

It’s dark by now, so the entire room is softly lit by several lamps and candles scattered around.

“Where should I stand to pose?” you don't intend to put in more than is necessary; spending time with this obnoxious man is the last thing you want to do today.

“Sit on the couch,” Joel orders, pointing to the old leather ruin to your right, ”I'll prepare the necessities and we'll get started.”

You sit, quietly, dreading what lies ahead.

Joel picks up a blank canvas and places it on a stand, takes a graphite pencil from the table and orders you " Undress"

You squint your eyes, squeaking “I'm sorry, what?”

“I'm making a series of artistic nudes, didn't I tell you?” he grins

“No, you don’t” you retort.

Fucking bastard.

“Strip” he repeats firmly.

“But I don't-”

“Look, you're already irritating me, either take off your fucking clothes or get out of here”

You've seen people pose nude in your art classes before, even in Professor Joel's class, and all you've ever cared about was doing a good job, but now it's different. It's just you and him, in a place in the middle of nowhere, you weren't warned before, and more importantly, he makes you uncomfortable.

His gaze has done nothing but judge you from the first moment it landed on you. You don't want to lose that last bit of dignity you still preserve and let him see you in your most intimate form.

“So what have you decided?” Joel presses you.

With extreme reluctance, you begin to take off your coat, laying it on the couch. What else can you do? By now you have fallen into a trap, either you do this or your grade at the end of the course will be F.

F for failure.

“Damn asshole,” you think, ”I hope I never see you again in my life after your fucking course is over.”

The resentment must be clear on your face because Joel mocks you “Oh come on, don't pout like that. There's nothing underneath that I haven't seen a hundred times before. It's just tits and a cunt” he concludes in a dismissive tone, crossing his arms over his chest impatiently.

He rolls his eyes when after some hesitation you slip off the T-shirt you are wearing, revealing a light pink lace bra.

He curls his lips "cute," he whispers in a lascivious tone " take that off too."

“But Mr Miller I...” you try to retort

“Go ahead and take it off,” your arms reach for your back, you undo the hooks of your bra and drop it to the floor. You cannot believe this is happening, you are bare-chested in front of your professor.

"Very well..." he acquiesces, "you see, everything is easier when you cooperate."

He strokes his beard as he glances at you remove your shoes and pulling down your jeans, the same smug, dangerous smile he had in his office returns to peep across his face.

“Good girl.”

You feel a knot in your stomach. And you who thought that commitment and talent were enough to get results...poor naive girl.

You should get out of here and go to the dean and report him for unethical conduct but you suddenly realize that he may be the first, but he won't be the last.

"Lie down on the couch," Joel whispers to you, his gaze not leaving your body, hungry and demanding.

You don't want to be here, yet you feel you can't do anything else at this point.

"Raise your right arm above your head," Joel instructs, "and bend your legs slightly."

“Like this. Don't move," Joel stands in front of the canvas and begins to trace marks on the surface. His hand moves quickly, his fingers run over the traced lines smudging them.

You remain still as he ordered you, feeling goosebumps across your body and your nipples harden from the cold.

You have to admit to yourself that it is fascinating to watch him work; his gaze is alert and sure, his hands move expertly and competently. He is certainly talented.

Joel observes the work done so far, scratching his chin, adding a few touches here and there as his eyes scan the entire surface of the canvas.

Maybe he really just wants to paint you and you're making a big deal out of nothing, maybe this will end well after all. He moves the easel to one side of the sofa you assume to look at you from another angle until he growls “Spread your legs for me, darling”

“But I don't-”

“I need more shadows on your body”

“What?” you glance at him, this sounds like a lame excuse.

“Spread your legs” he repeats ”come on”

You do so, feeling his eyes everywhere on you, feeding on every uncovered inch of your skin. And for some reason you cannot explain, you feel your body react under his gaze. You peak at the outline of his cock straining under his jeans, a rush of adrenaline rushes through you, a flush of arousal between your legs.

No, you can't.

You cannot crave for him to look at you. He's your professor who lured you here under false pretenses.

Yet you realize how incredibly handsome he is. So far you had only thought of him as your teacher and had never truly paused to observe him, especially since he always treated you like a dirtbag.

“Perfect, now stay still like this,” he mutters.

He hums as you do “Such a good girl for me” in a mellifluous and manipulative tone.

You feel his voice penetrate deep into your bones and another thrill of arousal runs through you all, gliding under your skin and straight to your pussy.

This is so fucked up but on the other hand you are thrilled by the idea of ending up in one of his paintings.

He makes a couple of changes to the sketch and then walks over to you, sitting on the armrest of the couch. He watches you intently, as if he wants to study every tiny detail about you, you still have your panties on but you've never felt more naked than that.

“Hmm, someone is wet.” he observes, gazing at the wet spot on your underwear. “It’s all for me?”

“I…uh…no, absolutely not” You don't want to admit it even to yourself but the situation is turning you on, no matter how wrong it is.

“Honey, I advise you never to play poker,” he sneers. You look at him puzzled, and he adds, “You're not good at bluffing at all.”

When he reaches out a hand to touch you, you almost tremble, it's as if your body is crying out to him “take me. use me.”

All you ever wanted from the beginning was his approval and now somehow he seems to recognize something in you. You just want to stop arguing, to stop fighting, to stop feeling like you are worth less than nothing, you just want to know that you still have a future that consists of not settling for a job that you don't love and doesn't allow you to feel fulfilled and let you get the results you know you deserve.

And most of all, you want him to be on your side.

“You're such a pretty little thing, you know that?” his voice gruels as his fingers run from your ankle to your knee and then up to your inner thigh. You stiff, feeling your heart raging up under your ribcage and a fresh flush of arousal dampening your cunt.

How did you never realize how sexy this man is? Now that his gaze has softened you notice the deep brown of his eyes, with some hazel undertones, and how he lights up as he stares at you.

God, you want him so bad right now.

You are almost on the verge of grabbing his wrist and placing his big hand on your pussy already, but you decide to let him.

His fingers move slowly over your skin; instead of touching you where you need it most, his hand stops at your hip, fiddling with the hem of your panties.

"Can I?" he grunts.

You nod silently and he demands “I need you to use your words, baby. Speak to me”

“Yes” you breath

He grins as he places his other hand on your hip and begins to pull down your panties. You lift your pelvis to ease him, and he comments, "mmm, so eager. You’re such a slut, aren’t you?”

You feel your cheeks on fire as you cannot take your eyes off him, desperately in need of his hands, his lips, his tongue and his cock. You want it all, right now. So maybe he’s right, you’re a slut and you don’t even care.

Joel calmly moves your panties down your legs and brings them to his nose, inhaling your scent. “Sweet. I bet you taste even better.”

He gets up from the couch, tucking your panties into his jeans pocket, and takes a clean brush from a container resting on the table. He sits back right next to you, and grins.

He caresses the inside of your leg with the brush, the feeling of the bristles flowing over your skin is incredible, soft and intense at the same time, leisurely moving on your inner thigh, raising up closer and closer to your pussy, his eyes set in yours, mesmerized by you.

You are subjugated by him as he fondles you, going up your belly with his brush, deliberately ignoring your pussy, moving deftly over every curve of your body. It is as if he is painting you, as if he has made you his work of art.

The bristles rub over your rib cage, slowly, then your breasts, moving in concentric circles from your areola to your nipples. He passes the brush back and forth over your hard buds and a deep moan escapes from your throat. “Please, Mr Miller” you whine.

“You can call me Joel, darling” he whispers “what do you need?”

“I…fuck” You’re dripping wet, your voice is a wail and your body is itching to be touched.

“Say it.” he orders you, ”I want to hear it.”

“I want - fuck - my pussy” you blather, you are not even able to form a complete sentence right now.

Joel laughs faintly, descending again on your abdomen, very slowly, until he reaches your mound. He rubs the bristles from right to left lingeringly, then lowering again, descending on your outer lips, first one side and then the other. And then again and again.

When he finally brushes over your clit, you are so pent up and needy that you arch your back, emitting a throaty moan.

“Oh God! Oh my God”

Joel lowers the brush to your clit, surrounding it with the bristles, pushing and making concentric circles. He stops when he feels you on the edge.

And then he does it all again, circling and pressing, jerking your bundle of nerves with the brush. And then a third time.

You’re a crying mess at this point, mind completely numb and your body covered in sweat.

He spreads your folds with his thumbs and sighs, “Look at this pussy, all nice and wet for me, I can’t wait to dip into your sweet honey, babe”

He throws the brush on the floor, it falls with a dull thud bouncing on the carpet.

“So fucking perfect”

You squeeze your eyes whining “please" a riot of emotions assail you, your body is so on the edge you could explode just by the way he looks at you, moistening his lips with his tongue.

He puts his arms around your neck, “cling to me,” he whispers. You do as he says, instinctively encircling his waist with your legs, clinging to his body with all your strength as he carries you to the bed and lays you gently on top.

He undresses, staying in his boxers in front of you.

You can't take your eyes off him, gazing at his wide shoulders, his broad chest, his soft belly with a thin strip of hair running down into his boxers.

He kneels on the bed, facing you, gently spreading your legs and moving between them.

He lowers himself on you, placing a kiss on your clit, making you whimper another pathetic "please."

He sticks his tongue out and runs it flat across your folds, up and down, one hand firmly clinging to your hip, his fingers digging into your skin.

"I was right, you taste amazing," he murmurs against your skin.

You are no longer thinking about anything right now, not about your master's degree, evaluations or the fact that he is your teacher.

You feel his nose hitting on your clit as he eagerly licks your folds, opening them with two fingers to sink his tongue in.

You bite your lower lip, stifling your moans, burying a hand in his dark curls, pulling him toward you “oh fuck, yes”.

His tongue encircles your hard clit, swirling around, his lips lace over it sucking greedily.

“You don’t need to hold back, you can be as loud as you want in here, no one will hear us. Let me hear you, baby. I wanna know how you sound when you come”

He doesn't stop sucking and licking until you feel your orgasm mount inside you like a flooding river, invading your body, curving your toes, clenching your fists on the sheet beneath you and rolling your hips on his face, wetting his lips, his chin, dripping onto your inner thigh.

“Yeah, baby, come apart on my tongue, just like that”

He licks you clean until you calm down, devouring your juices to the last drop and then looks up at you “you have no idea how beautiful you are, starving for my cock” he groans “god, I must have you right now, I must make you mine, you hungry little whore”

You wait for nothing else, it seems your thirst has no way to quench today.

“Please, Joel,”

He pulls off his boxers, throwing them on the floor, his cock springs free and is incredibly hard, you can't stop looking at it. He's big, so big you don't even know how he's going to fit all the way inside you but you don’t care. “Fill me up, Joel, please”

“Yeah? You want this big cock inside you? Want me to fill you up so good baby?” He grumbles.

“Please, Joel, it’s all I need” you whine.

He lies on top of you, tapping your lips a few times with the tip, running it along your folds and wetting it with your juices, aligning himself with your opening, “I'll give you what you want, then.”

He nudges at your hole a moment before he enters you, just the tip, pressing gently to let you get used to his intrusion.

You moan feverishly, clinging to his back, bucking your hips toward him “more, please, more” you plea.

As he plunges inside you, he stares at your face, as if he doesn’t want to miss a single second of your reactions, when he’s ball deep into you you let out an incoherent whine so graveling it doesn’t even sounds like your voice.

He begins to pump into you as you circle his waist with your legs again, pushing to feel him deeper, your hands roaming in his graying hair.

“Here you go, taking me so well princess, you’re so good to me”

When his lips settle on yours you realize that you had not yet kissed until this moment. His lips are soft, demanding, his tongue penetrates your mouth licking eagerly, and you are more than happy to respond, savoring his taste of mint and cigarettes.

One of his hands kneads your breast, his fingers close on one of your nipples as his cock doesn't stop sinking inside you.

You moan into his mouth feeling like you are on the edge of a cliff, ready to fall into the sinful pit of hell.

“Where do you want me?” he whispers in your ear, and your voice comes out broken from the back of your throat ”Inside. please. I'm - fuck - I'm on the pill.”

You feel him spilling his load inside you a moment later, painting your inner wall with his hot sticky cum.

You feel delirious and exhausted, guilty for what you just did. Your moral code has just been shattered under the hot weight of his body.

He kisses you again, lingering on your bottom lip. “You’re so much better than I thought,” he chuckles.

He moves away from you and stands up naked to return to the sketch. He traces a few lines and makes some adjustments as you stare at him in amazement.

“Can you show me?” you ask. “Yes, come here,” he replies. You get up and stand next to him to observe the canvas. Your body is sketched on it and it looks perfect, you have never seen yourself so beautiful.

“You can go if you want, I’m done for today”

“I- I don’t want to”

“Do you want more?” he sneers “god, you really are a slut.” he comments as he gets closer to you.

He fucks you two more times, the first time he makes you get on all fours, licking your pussy from behind and then sinking into you while he holds you by the hips, his cock slamming against your cervix and his balls against your ass. Then you’re too eager to have him in your mouth, to taste your flavor mixed with his, so you offer to give him a blowjob and he fucks your mouth before digging back into your pussy again.

He drives you back to campus. “I may be an asshole, but I won’t let you walk around alone at night,” he says.

You get out of his car feeling like you’re in a bubble, like everything that happened was just a surreal dream you can’t wake up from. You collapse into your bed after throwing your clothes haphazardly on the floor. When you wake up the next morning you feel like shit.

You don't know how boldly you will look your classmates in the eye, but you can't skip class, and the thought of seeing Joel again thrills you, no matter how wrong it is.

When Joel enters the classroom, he ignores you, probably so as not to arouse suspicion; it would be too strange for him to treat you with regard after denigrating you for months.

He begins returning graded tests proceedings slowly as usual, moving between desks and laying down the papers without making any comment. The test that rests on your desk has a circled A at the top.

Tag list: @aurorawritestoescape @baronessvonglitter @lemon-nomel @almostempty @thundermartini @harriedandharassed @pedrostories

#pedro pascal #joel miller #the last of us #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller smut #pedro pascal characters #joel the last of us #joel miller x you #joel tlou #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x afab!reader #pedro pascal characters fanfiction #perv!joel miller

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lewisvinga · 11 months ago

Text

west coast | lewis hamilton x fem! reader

summary; y/n leaves lewis due to the feeling of being held back from consistently traveling to his races, only to realize how much she missed him.

warnings; mentions of drinking

notes; he’s so sexy , i know my goat is gonna look sexy asf in that ferrari red

taglist; @namgification @louvrepool @locelscs

word count; 1.3k

‘born to die’ series masterlist.

f1 masterlist !

“I’m sorry, Lewis. It’s for the best and you know this.” Y/n wipes away the tears falling down her cheeks as she holds on tightly to her suitcase filled with her closeness.

Lewis lets out a disappointed sigh, nodding his head in agreement. He knew that she had to finish her degree which meant everything to her. But finishing her degree meant she couldn’t follow him around the world anymore. It meant that they needed to have a break.

“I know, it’s just…”

“Hard being away from each other.”

“Yeah.” He responds with a deep chuckle. “Honestly, I got this feeling like it all probably would’ve happened later if we waited more. Probably would’ve been worse.”

Y/n slowly nods her head in agreement, not trusting her voice to respond for her. She leans down to gently pet the top of Roscoe’s head. The dog seemed to know what was going on since he refused to leave her side.

She gives the dog one last pat on the head before standing back up, giving Lewis a sad smile. “I guess, it’s time for me to go. See you around then?”

“Yeah, see you ‘round.”

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

“This isn’t your usual club.” Y/n mumbles as her best friend drags her into what she thought was a normal club. Y/b/f laughs, hooking her arm with the confused girl.

“It’s an exclusive club! Celebrities and big names only. And it’s L.A., there’s gonna be many people here.” Y/b/f explains with a smile. Due to being a well-known influencer, she was let in along with Y/n who had a known name due to a previous relationship.

“Now, drinks?”

“Y/b/f, I have to study for an exam all day tomorrow. No can do.”

“If you’re not drinkin’, then you’re not playin’!” Y/b/f exclaims over the loud music as they make their way to the bar. “C’mon, I know you’ve got the music in you. Don’t you?” She adds with a smile.

Y/n let out a sigh before a smile crept up on her lips. “Just one drink, Y/n. Just one.” She knew that it wouldn’t be just one. She knew that she’d wake up with a hangover but it was Los Angeles, she couldn’t miss the chance to party in Los Angeles.

“Perfect!”

2 hours later, Y/n was already drunk and returning from the bathroom. She was stumbling out of the bathroom and was suddenly met with a familiar scent. She sobered a bit when she glanced up and saw those big brown eyes that she once and still adored.

She could feel herself heating up from seeing him a couple of months after breaking up with him. Her skin was basically hot to the touch. “Lew-Lewis.” She says with wide eyes, still tipsy.

“Y/n…” Lewis says in a soft tone. He was quickly as shocked, as seen by the way his eyebrows were raised up high. “H-How have you been?”

“Uhm, great!” She quickly says, standing up straight and fixing her short dress. “Was able to take enough classes this semester to graduate. Actually- you didn’t ask that. Ignore that. I- How about you?” The alcohol in her system made her rant a bit but it made him let out his signature laugh.

“I’ve been great too actually.” He replies with a smile, nodding his head. She noticed how his hair was styled differently. He opted for dark brown braids as opposed to the honey brown, a color she suggested a couple weeks before splitting.

“Your hair…” Y/n trails off, “It looks really nice.”

“Thank you. I mean, you suggested it so I decided to try it out.”

She smiles and nods before a silence falls over them. They both wanted to say something else but couldn’t figure out what to say. Although she was just months away from graduating, her heart still longed for him. And even if girls were constantly throwing themselves at him, he only wanted her.

“Y/n, I miss you.”

Panic fills her mind as she hears the words she has been wanting to hear. She wants to say that she missed him so much but something keeps her really quiet. Maybe it’s the fact that she’s still tipsy and wants to get drunk like she’s a lush. But in a panic, she blurts out, “Gotta go! Y/b/f is calling me!”

She turns around and runs back to where her best friend is sitting in a panic and with wide eyes. She sat down next to her and covered her face with her hands. Y/b/f was talking to an athlete when she noticed her friend's panicked look.

“What's wrong?” She immediately asked, focusing more on her best friend than the guy beside her.

“Lewis is here,” Y/n says with a sigh, grabbing Y/b/f’s drink and taking a long sip. “I need a drink, come with me.” She added, standing back up and grabbing her friend's arm, dragging her to the bar.

Another hour had passed and the club was getting hot. A little too hot for Y/n’s liking. She could feel her blown-out hair starting to frizz up, her mascara was slightly smudged in the corner of her eyes, and she felt hotter than fire. She needed to go outside.

Fortunately, she noticed a balcony outside before entering the club. So, she followed a set of stairs by the bathroom which led right to the grand balcony. There were a few people there, some with drinks and some with parliaments on fire in hand.

Before she could open the door, her eyes landed on once again, a familiar set of crinkled brown eyes and a wide smile. Her once sweet boy swayed along to the music. Maybe it was the fact she had more alcohol in her system, but she wanted to go up to him.

Y/n takes a deep breath and opens the door leading to the balcony. She didn’t realize how hard she had opened it until she saw him look right at her. The person he was talking to backed away, immediately recognizing her.

She slowly walks over to him, her heels clicking along. “Lewis.” She quietly says once she stood in front of him. He stood up straighter as his eyes furrowed up in confusion.

“Y/n-“

“I miss you too.”

“You’re drunk.”

“I mean, yeah, but you made me panic when you said that,” Y/n sighs, fiddling with the gold rings on her finger. “And now I’ve had a lot more to drink and it gave me the courage to and I know it’s stupid. Missing you when I was the one to end things for my studies, which have been going well anyway. I’m about to graduate and I still miss you, Lewis. I thought that my desire was to settle down to finish my degree but it wasn’t. It’s you I desire.”

Silence fell over them for a minute. She immediately began to regret everything she said. The regret caused her to sober up again. She opened her mouth to apologize but before she could, Lewis pulled her closer by her waist and kissed her plump lips.

Her arms immediately wrapped around his neck as she pulled him closer, finally getting what she wanted, what they both wanted. When he pulls away, he rests his forehead against hers and keeps his hands on her waist.

“Come back to me, love.”

“Lewis, I’ll go running back to you any day.”

Lewis lets out a breathy chuckle before leaning back a bit. He wore a smile so wide that he couldn’t even bother trying to contain it. “How about we get out of here?”

Y/n’s smile matched his as she nodded in response. “I like that.” She whispers, grasping his hand. Looks like down on the West Coast, things will actually turn out alright.

#formula one x reader #f1 x reader #f1 scenario #formula one scenarios #f1 imagine #formula one imagines #formula one imagine #f1 scenarios #lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton imagine #lewis hamilton scenarios

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motorsportbarbie13 · 2 months ago

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What's A Soulmate? Part 3

In which your best friend comes back to you. But is it too late?

Warnings: oof the angst. swearing. that's it. Pairing: Lando Norris X SainzSister!Reader Word Count: 2.5k words

(a/n: this is how i cope after that hot mess of a race today. i hate everything and everyone except for my pookie bear lando norris)

- What's A Soulmate? - Part 1 - What's A Soulmate? - Part 2 - What's A Soulmate? - Part 2.5 - Master List

2021 You keep your promises.

2022 And then he started dating her.

2023 Silence.

March, 2024Australia

“We are so excited to have you join the team.” Your new boss beams back at you as you follow her through the corridor. “Thank you for making the flight at such short notice. Had we known Summer was going to quit so abruptly, we would have had you come out with the team earlier in the week.”

You nod, adjusting the collar of your new papaya and black polo. “Of course, I’m just happy it all worked out.”

The heat of the Australian sun beats down outside the McLaren hospitality building, but inside the air is cool and dry. You’d landed in the country last night after what felt like the longest flight you’ve ever taken from New York into Melbourne but were so happy to be back in the paddock after what felt like ages.

“Like we discussed earlier in the month, you’ll be working with Oscar as his primary press officer. I’m sure you know what that entails and everything, not much has changed since Carlos was with the team, but if you have any questions you have my number.” Brenda smiles down at you as she hands you your new McLaren issued iPhone.

Three weeks ago, you had graduated from NYU with a double degree in public relations and business management. One week later, you had accepted a job offer from McLaren to join the communications team working with Oscar. Between your dual degree and experience working in the paddock with your brother, the job had been a slam dunk for you.

“The boys are just finishing up some filming up stairs. Let’s go up and introduce you to Oscar. You already know Lando.” She says, with a bit of a smile. Your friendship with the Brit was well known back during the years you were still working with Carlos. No one knew how much it had changed since though.

Nerves fluttered around in your stomach as you follow Brenda up to the second floor where you could hear Oscar and Lando loudly laughing at something. As far as you knew, Lando was unaware that you had taken a job with McLaren. You had asked Carlos and Charles to keep your new job quiet around the paddock, not wanting to create drama before it was necessary. This was certainly going to be a shock, you knew that.

The last time you saw him flashes through your memory, quick and painful, as Brenda approaches where Oscar and Lando stand each holding dry erase boards.

Early 2022

“What do you mean she doesn’t want me around?” You nearly laugh, the absurdity of what your best friend is telling you not fully computing.

Lando grips the back of his neck, eyes looking everywhere but at you. “Our friendship makes her uncomfortable.”

Now you really do laugh. “What friendship, Lan? I’ve barely seen you this year!”

It was the truth. Ever since you had started classes in New York last year, your time to see your best friend had dwindled down into nearly nothing. You went to as many races as you could but going from spending nearly 24/7 with your brother and Lando to barely seeing them once every few months was more painful than you had anticipated. It hurt so much to watch him continue on, seemingly so unbothered by losing you, but this? This was the last straw.

He had been dating the Portuguese model for a bit now and you had to admit, she was pretty and wonderfully nice. You truly had no issue with her, having met her once at a Grand Prix you had attended before classes had started this year. She was quiet, sweet, and obviously adored Lando so her being with him was fine with you. You wanted to see your best friend happy. But now? Now she was threatened by someone who wasn’t even a second thought in Lando’s head?

You had spent the last few months desperately trying to believe that Lando wasn’t pulling away, that he wasn’t purposefully putting distance between you and him. Texts would go unanswered, calls went unreturned. You had chalked it up to him being busy and adjusting to having a new teammate but now you guess you had the truth: he was avoiding you.

“If that’s what you want, I’ll respect your wishes.” You murmur, taking a step away, suddenly wanting nothing more than to retreat back into the Ferrari motorhome where you could nurse your embarrassment in peace.

“It’s not…” Lando fumbles, but you know what he’s about to say isn’t true. This is exactly what he wants.

“No, I get it Lan. She’s threatened by me. I respect that and I’ll make myself scarce this weekend. You and her won’t have to worry about me anymore.”

The pain of your words slices through Lando. He hadn’t wanted to do this, far from it. But the fight that she had started last night when she had seen you in the pit lane laughing with Carlos and Charles had put him in a tight spot. You were his best friend, but she was his girlfriend. He owed her the respect, right? Even if he knew that nothing was going on, nothing could happen. It wasn’t in the cards for the two of you.

“I’m sorry.” He says.

“Me too, Lan.

You blink rapidly, erasing the painful memory from your brain as your boss steps towards Oscar and Lando, who are watching you approach. The look on Lando’s face sends your pulse skyrocketing. It’s a look that’s somewhere between surprise, confusion, and maybe even a bit of betrayal and you hate every bit of it.

“Oscar, I wanted to introduce you to your new press officer. She just landed last night so I’m sure she’s a bit jet lagged but she insisted on getting to work straight away. She’ll be taking you around for media duties after FP2 today so be nice, okay?”

“I’m always nice.” The Aussie says, soft smile on his lips. “It’s nice to meet you. Lando talks about you all the time.”

Your eyes dart towards Lando, who is still somewhat glaring at you like he can’t believe you’re in front of him. He talks about you? Still? Your stomach does an involuntary somersault at this bit of information, blush creeping its way high up on your cheek bones.

The phone in your hand chimes with a reminder. Oscar is due to an Australian media outlet in ten minutes for an interview. “Well, that’s my cue.” You turn to the girl that had been filming the segment with a friendly smile. “Is he good to go?”

“He’s all yours!”

With permission to leave, you turn on your heel and walk towards the staircase, Oscar in tow. Lando watches after you, still struggling to process what just happened. You worked for McLaren now? As Oscar’s press officer? He had just played padel with Carlos this fucking morning and he hadn’t said a single word about this. Surly Carlos had known about your taking the job so why hadn’t he told him? Did you not want him to know? Did you hate him so much that you didn’t even care if he knew or not? How had the most important person in his life become someone he just used to know once?

That last fight before he…said some of the the most shameful thing he’s ever said flashes through his mind as he wanders down to his drivers room, suddenly needing a break.

“You literally never shut up about her. ‘She does this.’ And ‘she does that’. Jesus Christ, Lando you could not be more obvious about it.” The anger in her voice had set his teeth on edge. “And now I have to sit and watch the, what did they call you guys? The Chaos Gremlins? Now I have to sit and watch The Chaos Gremlins be reunited for the entire fucking weekend and just sit back and take it?”

“There is nothing going on between us.” Lando insists, running his hands through his curls. “I haven’t seen her in months. Months!”

“But there would be if she was here, right?”

He had no answer for her. Because she was probably right in her assumption. If you had stayed, Lando had no idea what would’ve happened.

“It’s her or me, Lando.”

The rest of the day passes in what feels like the blink of an eye. By the time Oscar is done with all of his interviews at the end of the evening, you feel dead on your feet. You’ve lost all sense of time, feeling like you’ve been hit with a truck and you want nothing more than to get back to your hotel room and sleep for the next 5 to 10 business days. Or the last free practice tomorrow afternoon.

The Uber to the hotel takes far too long but just as your eyes are about to shutter closed in the back seat, you arrive and drag your near lifeless body up to your room. A quick shower is all you have the energy for, desperately needing to get the germs of the day off and then, you’re in bed, blissfully tucked between soft white cotton sheets watching some weird Australian soap opera.

Your eyes are heavy when the alert dings and you nearly ignore it, assuming it’s Carlos checking in. He could wait until you saw him tomorrow. But a quick glance shows you it isn’t Carlos.

You don’t fully understand why you gave him your room number. Not when the only thing on your mind is going to sleep. This is probably a really bad time to have such an important conversation too but a part of you, that part of you that never stopped hoping that maybe one day your best friend would come back to you, that part of you wanted to get this out of the way so you could move on, with or without him.

Ten minutes later, there’s a soft knock on the door and you haul yourself out of bed, still bone numbingly tired but also strangely keyed up with nervous energy. This would be the first time you had really spoken to Lando since that night two years ago. Sure, you two had exchanged pleasantries when you found yourself in the paddock for a race weekend but most of the time you kept to yourself in the Ferrari garage and motorhome, making sure your presence wasn’t noticed by anyone outside of your brother and Charles.

Tugging on your favorite NYU crewneck, you pad towards the door while willing your racing heart beat to slow. This is fine. This is going to be okay. You two needed to talk if you were going to be working closely this year so this had to happen sooner or later.

The door swings open and Lando stands in front of you looking just as exhausted and devastated as you feel.

“Hi.” He breathes, hands wringing together.

“Hi Lan.” You sigh.

His smile widens at the nickname and you open the door a bit wider to allow him in. You cross the room, settling on the king size bed before staring up at him. “You wanted to talk?”

The pain in his eyes cuts such a deep slice through you, it’s a wonder you don’t start bleeding out on the bedspread.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were coming back?” He crosses the room towards you, setting every nerve ending in your body firing. He’s too close and you can’t control yourself when he’s like this.

You shrug, wondering how you’re still able to hold yourself together at this point. “I didn’t think you’d care.”

Lando drops his gaze away from you then, shame and anger surging across his handsome features. “Of course I’d care.”

“You didn’t when you chose her over me.”

He drags a hand over his face, the look of misery that sits on his face is reminiscent of the night you told him you were moving to New York City all those years ago. The memory brings a surge of white hot pain that cuts you so deeply it steals the breath from your lungs. If you had known that this was where you’d end up, you didn’t know if you would have made the same decision.

“And listen, that was fine, I guess. You had to respect your relationship with her but the most confusing thing was afterwards. Why the radio silence after?” You fold your hands into your lap, unable to meet the gaze that you feel so heavy on your skin. He’s practically begging you to look at him but you simply can’t.

“I was ashamed.” He admits and you feel the tears prick at the back of your eyes, a hot and painful sting that reminds you of how much you’ve lost. “I was ashamed at how I treated you and couldn’t face it.”

“Rightfully so.” You mutter, rolling your eyes.

“I’m sorry.” He murmurs while reaching for your hand. “I’m so sorry for how I treated you. I should have told her to fuck off for making me choose between her and you. I should have chosen my best friend and I’ve regretted that decision every day of my life since.”

The fact that you’re finally hearing the words you’ve been dreaming of hearing for nearly two years hits you like a ton of bricks. Here he was, your best friend, finally apologizing and owning up to his mistakes and for some reason, it felt like it was all just too little too late. How many nights had you stayed up, sobbing on your living room couch with your roommates over the stupid boy who was mean to you? Wondering what you had done to make him treat you like this? Hadn’t your friendship meant more than what it had ended up being?

And now, here you were, back in his orbit again and it just…didn’t matter. You had spent so many nights wishing this would come and now that he was finally taking responsibility and owning up to his actions, it just didn’t feel like it was enough.

“I think you should go.”

“What?” He stutters, fingers gripping yours almost desperately.

“I am exhausted and need some time to process this Lando. And you have quali tomorrow, you need to be focusing on racing, not on our issues.”

“I don’t give a fuck about racing.” He bites out, blue eyes turning stormy gray with anger. “I want to fix this.”

“This isn’t something that can be fixed with a single conversation.”

You didn’t even know if it could be fixed at all, if you were being honest with yourself.

“Then I’ll keep going until it is fixed, I promise.”

“Don’t make promises you don’t intend to keep, Lando.” You warn, rising from the bed. “I need to get some sleep, okay? I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Lando feels like his heart is being ripped from his chest. He had never intended for your friendship to end up like this. It just…slipped away from him and he was so swept away by his lifestyle the last year that he convinced himself you were both better off where you were instead of together like the universe intended. He had been so scared to admit how wrong he had been, choosing her over you that night that he had allowed it to spiral so out of control it might never come back to him. You might never come back to him.

Tag List: @anilovessadbooks, @shelbyteller, @formulaal, @martygraciesversion381, @longhairkoo, @samantha-chicago, @stelena-klayley @dark-night-sky-99 @luckylampzonkland, @chlmtfilms , @inarabee @aykxz98 @forensicheart @cheer-bear-go-vroom @charlesgirl16 @lieutenantchaos @willowsnook @sltwins @linnygirl09 @powerfulmess @technicallypleasanttree @meglouise00

#f1 #formula 1 #lando norris #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #lando norris x you #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #lando norris angst

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wordingg · 3 months ago

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Proud Parents

Dead Boy Ween Day 5, prompt: family

Summary: Crystal is insistent that she doesn't need the dead boys to attend her graduation ceremony. But, Charles and Edwin would never let Crystal go alone.

AN: I got like halfway through this one and realized that schools in the UK probably don't have graduation ceremonies the same way American schools. They might not even have graduation ceremonies at all. BUT I HAVEN'T MISSED A DAY YET AND IM NOT GONNA START NOW SO YOU'RE JUST GONNA HAVE TO SUSPEND YOUR DISBELIEF. okay thanks.

“You guys can’t come to my graduation, okay?” Crystal said firmly.

It was a little hard to take her seriously when she was standing in a veritable ocean of clothes and shaking what looked like a very fancy sunhat at them, but her expression was very serious.

“My parents are going to be there and I don’t want any weird ghost shit going on, okay?” Crystal added. She threw them an exasperated look when both boys just stared at her with folded arms.

“They said they’re going to be there?” Charles asked with a raised eyebrow.

“They gave a very firm maybe, which is practically a yes for them,” Crystal snapped back.

Charles frowned at that, but Edwin spoke over whatever he was planning to say.

“Of course, if you don’t want us to attend your graduation ceremony, we will respect your wishes,” Edwin said benevolently.

“Thank you, Edwin,” Crystal said, with a pointed look at Charles.

“You’re quite welcome, Crystal,” Edwin said with a polite nod.

Crystal disappeared back into her walk in closet to continue to dig for something good enough to wear under her graduation gown. Charles turned to Edwin with a confused frown.

“There’s no way her parents are going to show up for graduation, is there?” he asked sincerely.

“Not a chance,” Edwin said, still watching the closet door. “I checked their calendar and they’ve already booked two interviews and something called an ‘experimental banjo sesh’ for the same time as the ceremony.”

“God, what arseholes,” Charles muttered. “Crystal deserves better.”

“Of course she does,” Edwin said with an arched brow. “That is why we will be better for her.”

Charles’ mouth stretched into a manic grin and Edwin’s own mouth twitched at the edges with infectious glee.

---

The day of her graduation, Crystal was sweating with nerves. She had opted to finish her degree online when her attempts to make up with many of the people in her class that she had wronged had gone badly, to say the least. It was the first time in months that she was in the same room with them. It was a big gymnasium, but it was hard not to notice all the venomous looks pointed her way from almost every corner.

Crystal wiped her palms on the fabric of her gown, but the artificial fabric did nothing to wick the moisture away from her skin. She wanted to touch her cap to make sure it was sitting straight, but was worried about knocking her elaborate hairstyle down. She had gotten up early to arrange her curls into an elegant bun at the nape of her neck. It had been a bigger challenge than she expected and as a result her hair was mostly held together by two dozen bobby pins and sheer determination.

Crystal’s parents had already been gone by the time she was ready to leave for the ceremony, but she tried not to let that get her down. She had just talked to them the night before and they had confirmed their definite maybe for her graduation. She just had to have faith. They probably were picking up flowers or a cake or something. They knew Crystal was very self sufficient and could call her own cab to take her to the school.

Finally it was time to line up and walk out onto the field. Luckily, Crystal ended up in line between two boys that she didn’t recognize and who didn’t seem all that interested in her. They walked out of the gymnasium and into the bright spring day outside. Crystal was briefly blinded, but as soon as her eyes cleared she looked out into the crowd for her parents.

The field outside the gym was absolutely packed with people. There were rows and rows of folding chairs set up for the students graduating. The line steadily filled the rows in, directed by teachers in suits and skirts. Around the folding chairs were metal bleachers packed with adults and other kids alike, everyone snapping photos and waving and shouting things as the students filing into the chairs occasionally picked someone out of the crowd and waved back.

She didn’t see her parents as she walked out, but it was a madhouse. Probably they were there and she just didn’t see them. That was fine. Crystal turned around during a speech started to try and look again and got hissed at by one of the teachers, so she turned back around and pretended to pay attention.

The speeches washed over her like so much noise. She couldn’t have recalled anything that was said even if her life depended on it. Her mind was on the crowd at her back and her parents, the anxiety of not knowing crawling up her throat and threatening to choke her.

Then, finally, they started calling names and it was time to walk across the stage and claim her diploma. The school had considered ‘Von Hoverkraft’ to be her last name, so she had to wait until almost every other kid had gone before she could stand up and walk across the small pop up stage to shake the hand of a sweaty middle aged man she didn’t recognize and take her diploma.

As she did so, a camera flashed from the crowd, loud and bright and briefly blinding her. Crystal felt tears pricking her eyes and it wasn’t just from the bright flash. Someone was taking her picture and she couldn’t help but hope it was her dad, memorializing her finally finishing high school, finally becoming an adult.

Her smile turning sincere for the first time that day, Crystal walked to the other side of the stage and back to her seat feeling breathless. They were here somewhere in the crowd. They had come. They had shown up for her.

A few more kids went up to get their diploma and there was one last short speech. Everyone was itching for the ceremony to be over, so the speech didn’t last for very long. Soon, the ceremony was over and the two crowds (students and families) rushed toward each other, students merging into the bleachers while parents and siblings ran into the lines of folding chairs.

Crystal stood up, but then she froze. She was short in her sensible flats and couldn’t see over the heads of the crowd to find her parents. She started to move toward the bleachers, but it was a wild press of people and she felt a surge of panic that she wouldn’t be able to find them in time, that the crowds would deter them and her parents would leave without her seeing them.

Halfway to the bleachers, Crystal felt a man’s hand on her upper arm, pulling her to a stop. Crystal whipped around, not sure if she should be ecstatic or vicious, and looked into a familiar face. Familiar, but not the one she was hoping for.

An older man, maybe in his fifties, with red hair almost completely turned white and distinguished rimless glasses was smiling down at her. It was Charles in his living person disguise.

“Crystal, this way!” he said over the low roar of the crowd, guiding her away from the bleachers and through them toward the parking lot.

Briefly, Crystal felt irritated. She had told them not to come. But, she couldn’t hold onto her frustration for very long. She was scared and upset and hopeful by equal measures and Charles’ presence was a comforting. She eventually shook his hand off her arm so that she could instead grab his hand in hers and he smiled down at her again.

Charles led her out of the crowd and around to the back of the metal bleachers, where Crystal saw a woman in big acrylic frames wearing a little maroon beret over blonde hair peppered with white. Edwin.

“I told you guys I didn’t want you here,” Crystal muttered. “I have to get back. My parents might leave if they can’t find me.”

Charles and Edwin exchanged a speaking look and Crystal’s stomach dropped.

“We weren’t going to come,” Charles started to say. Crystal realized suddenly that he was wearing a big old fashioned camera around his neck by a strap. She swallowed around a lump in her throat.

“But, we also weren’t about to leave you here alone if they didn’t come,” Edwin said quickly.

Crystal felt her eyes filling with tears and firmly told herself not to blink. If she blinked, they would fall and if they started to fall, they might never stop.

She looked at Edwin. Edwin would tell her the truth, even if it hurt. She could trust him to do that for her.

“I’m sorry, Crystal,” he said quietly. “I followed them all morning. We only came once we were sure they were not going to make it to your graduation ceremony.”

It didn’t matter that Crystal hadn’t blinked, the tears began to fall anyway. She dashed them away viciously but they just kept falling.

“God, you must think I’m so naive,” she laughed. “You must have wanted so bad to tell me how stupid I was being. So, go ahead. Say it,” she glared at Edwin, but he only stared evenly back. “Say I was stupid for believing in them! You would be right!” she cried.

“Crystal Palace, you are the farthest thing from stupid,” Edwin said, like it was the most factual thing in the world.

“You’re a good daughter,” Charles said gently, “and you love your parents. That’s not a fault, Crystal. It’s admirable that you keep trying.”

The tears were coming faster now and Crystal gave up on trying to preserve her mascara and eyeliner and instead rubbed at her eyes, probably smearing black makeup everywhere.

“Eds! The flowers!” Charles whispered while Crystal tried desperately to get her tears under control.

She heard rustling and then when she opened her eyes it was to a huge bouquet of lilies, big pink ones with little brown spots exploding out from yellow centers, filled in all around with delicate baby’s breath.

“You got me flowers?” Crystal wobbled, fresh tears threatening to fall.

“And a balloon, but I sort of forgot those things float and it got away from me,” Charles said with a hangdog expression.

Edwin sighed at the mention of the balloon, but shook it off quickly. He stepped in to run his thumbs delicately under Crystal’s eyes, clearing away the smudged makeup along with a few stray tears.

“And, we will be taking you to that awful raw fish buffet that you like,” Edwin said as he cleaned up her makeup here and there.

“It’s called sushi, I know you know that. And, I don’t think they’ll let you come in if you aren’t going to eat anything,” Crystal sniffed.

“I dare say you will eat enough raw fish for the rest of us,” Edwin said, dry as the Sahara desert.

“And, we’ll tell everyone within hearing distance how proud we are of our amazing daughter who just graduated from high school!” Charles added with a grin.

“Yes, she’s quite amazing,” Edwin said, stepping back and judging Crystal’s makeup good enough so long as she didn’t start crying again. “Neither of us ever finished high school. She’s the first in our family to do so.”

“We’re proud parents, we are,” Charles said, elbowing Edwin with a grin that earned him an eye roll and a reluctant smile.

“You guys…” Crystal trailed off, sniffing. She clutched the flowers closer to her chest, the paper crinkling against her graduation gown. Golden pollen smeared against the cheap polyester and stuck to it, but she couldn’t possibly bring herself to care at the moment.

“Please, Crystal, no more tears. I just fixed your mascara,” Edwin complained, stepping in again to fan at her face with his hands like maybe he could dry the tears before they fell.

Crystal hiccuped around a sound that might have been a sob or a laugh, even she wasn’t sure. She threw her arms around both of their necks, drawing Charles and Edwin into a group hug. The bracketed her sides and the flowers crinkled against their backs. She felt their arms settle around her waist, their heads tilted against her own.

“Thanks, you guys,” she said thickly.

“Of course, Crystal,” Edwin whispered back.

“Anytime,” Charles agreed.

#dead boy detectives #dbda #fanfiction #prompt fic #dead boy ween #deadboyween #graduation #crystal palace #friendship #found family #tw: neglect #sorry crystal youve been adopted #its official now #wordinggwrites

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oreharuuu · 1 year ago

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A Glimpse of Mercy

Summary: The boy you once knew from your small town has changed. But has he really change from his past? Or did he hide everything from you since the beginning?

Pairing: yandere!san x reader

Warnings: yandere behaviour obvi, obsessive behavior, graphic description, dark themes, cursing

Word count: 10.8k

A/N: umm hi? pls forgive me for not updating in a WHILE. i didn't forget about this acc i promise, just had a lot of stuff going on and ofc i still love our boys <3 hope y'all like this long ass oneshot, pray for the hongjoong one to finish quickly as well :' thx u for everyone for the support and comments while im away

Tags: @starillusion13 @cqndiedcherries @wooyoungjpg @miriamxsworld (comment below if u want to be in the permanent tags!)

The cold gush of wind hits you like a ton of bricks as you exited your school, shivering as you tried to keep yourself warm by hugging yourself. You eyed the numerous students chattering away with their friends, making you look around to search for your friend in the midst of the unknown faces.

When you spotted your friend, Iseul, near the entrance gate, you slowly walked towards her before stopping yourself. You smirked when you noticed the tall boy she's been talking for the past few months, quickly snapping a photo before walking away, wanting to not disturb their moment.

You sighed when you walked quietly to where you parked your bike, buying bungeoppang near the market before eating it as you observe the quiet atmosphere. Your small town just outside of the city was nothing special nor exciting, that's why almost everyone moved out when they can. A few stayed as to live with their family, but only a few instances such as yourself, living with your mother and aunt.

Iseul wants to get out of this 'shit hole' as she deems when she graduates high school, already applying for a scholarship. You on the other hand, can't even imagine yourself in the future on what you could possibly do. Your mother never went to the city, only working as a farmer. Your aunt did go, going to university to get a degree yet she can't even get any work after graduating, getting paid as a bartender before she quits to help your mother.

Deep down, you're scared of failure. Your whole life you're only a mediocre student, good yet not astounding grades and not having a big social circle like Iseul. You can't imagine going to the city to actually live there for a few years just to be met with failure when you can't even get a job, thus making you move back to your old town.

That sounds like a nightmare.

Forcing yourself out of the bad thoughts, you jogged to where your bike is, before stopping yourself when you notice the broken chain. You groan loudly, looking around to find the culprit only to find no one standing near you.

You placed the half eaten bungeoppang inside your bag, assessing the broken chain as you tried to think on what to do. This bike was your only transportation. Sure, you could use the bus but you're already so low on money that you'd rather risk walking by foot to school everyday.

You sighed, perking up at the sound of the bus stopping near you, the temptation of going home and leaving the old bike here is already growing. But you squashed that feeling when you remembered that it's your mother's bike.

The sound of quiet footsteps reached your ears, you glancing back before making eye contact with a boy. He seems startled, quickly moving around before walking back the opposite of you. He's around your age, maybe he knows one or two things about how to fix the bike.

"Hey, school boy! Can you help me?"

The boy stopped in his tracks while you wait for him to do anything. Thankfully, he walks back to where you're crouching, eyes downcast as he moved the plastic bag containing...oranges? To his other hand.

The boy seems familiar, his uniform shows that he's another student from a school nearby yours. The red scarf hides almost half of his face, only his sharp cat like eyes showing to you.

"Can you help me?" You asked, noting how the boy's ears turned slightly red before shaking his head. You sighed, standing up as you looked at the bike with frustrated eyes. You glanced at boy once more, finding him staring the broken chain a bit too hard. You look away, hiding the amused smile growing on your face.

"—fix it."

"Eh?" You asked, not hearing what he said clearly. "What did you say?"

"I think I can fix it."

"Thank you for your help," You say as the both of you walked side by side, your bike now temporarily fixed. "I can't imagine leaving the bike there on its own. I mean, it's my mom's bike after all but still! It's really old and I think we should buy another one...maybe."

You secretly glanced at the boy, not sensing any noise of acknowledgement or any head nod towards what you've just said. You pursed your lips, softly nudging his shoulder with yours. "You don't want to talk to me, huh?"

The boy's eyes only widens slightly, before looking down. You huff playfully before you remembered you haven't even asked his name. "Hey, what's your name? My name is (name)!"

You waited for any response from him, sighing in disappointment when he didn't say anything back. You stopped when you've reached your house, the boy stopping as well as he nervously looks back and forth between you and the house.

You're yelling internally deep down, wanting the awkward moment to end. Maybe the boy's too shy, and you feel bad for forcing him to talk when you just met him a few hours ago.

"Soo, thanks again. I'll just...go home now," You say as you slowly walk with your bike in tow, closing your eyes in embarrassment at the interaction. Hurried footsteps stopped you in your tracks, eyes widening when the boy placed one of the oranges inside your hand.

"San," He utters gently. "My name is San."

You smile softly at him, but before you could say anything, San walks away with hurried steps. "Nice to meet you, San! Thank you for helping me!" You scream loudly, giggling when you see San glancing back and forth at you.

When San disappeared from your sight, you continued your walk towards your house, the slight dirt from the orange makes you question as to why San even had dirty oranges in the first place.

Entering your house, you notice how quiet it is, your mother's slippers nowhere in sight nor your aunt's running shoes. You shrug to yourself before entering the kitchen, placing the singular orange near the fruit basket your mother received from her friend. Noticing the small note on top of an old takeout your aunt probably ordered two days ago, you assume that's going to be your dinner.

A normal occurrence in your household is your mother staying with her friends if she's not working, probably to talk and gossip. Your aunt is a different story though, you never know what exactly she's doing on her free time, and she never really told you either. So you kept quiet and let her be. She's an adult after all.

Heating up the food and eating it alone in the living room whilst watching TV was also a normal occurrence for you. You're used to it because ever since you're young, your mother rarely ate dinner. She doesn't really like eating anyways, especially inside a house that holds a reminder of her past.

Your aunt sometimes joined in, asking you here and there about school or maybe reminiscing about her old life in the city. Either way, it usually ends up with her drinking away her regrets.

You shivered, clicking your tongue when the kitchen window was slightly open. It's already getting dark, the only lights you see are the ones from the nearby house or you could say mansion, by how big it is compared to the other houses in town.

You remembered San walking towards the mansion's direction. Maybe he lives there? You never really see anyone besides two men, but you did overheard your mother one day about a woman supposedly living there.

Placing down your food on the small foldable table, you turned on the prehistoric TV that's probably already there before you're born. You didn't find anything interesting though, so you picked a random news channel before eating your food.

A few hours into eating, a small knock came from your front door, making you pause from peeling the orange San gave. You glanced at the clock, too early for your mother and aunt to come home. Plus they never knock anyway.

"Coming!" You yelled, slowly walking towards the entrance before opening the door slowly. Surprise is probably written all over your face when you see San standing there, his gaze flickers down when he notices you staring at him.

"San?" You questions. "A bit of a surprise visit, don't you think?"

"Sorry, I—Uh, if you don't like me here—"

"Nonsense! What's up?"

His posture became tense, so you glanced down at the plastic bag he's holding tightly. A bit too tight in your opinion.

"I-I need a place to eat, my house..."

"Your house?"

"It's, um, not a good place to eat right now," San finishes, looking up towards where the big mansion is located.

Turns out you're right all along.

"Oh, you live there?"

"Yeah, but I can't stay there right now."

"Can I ask why? You don't have to answer me if you're not comfortable, of course," You gently added, not wanting San to feel pressured. He shrugs, shifting from one foot to another. "Just some stupid argument between my father and...my uncles."

You hum, glancing back at your house before finally deciding. "Yeah, sure, you could eat at my house." You hold back a smile when you notice San's slumped posture turned straight right away, as if he's not expecting you to say that. "R-Really? I can eat here?"

"Sure, but my house is a bit cramped because of junk. If you want, we could eat at the veranda. Not to brag or anything but the view is beautiful."

San lets out a small smile, tilting his head which made your heart squeeze at how cute he is. "Really? I never really notice."

"Meh, it's something," You shrug, opening the door wider, inviting San to follow you inside. "Come on, my food's getting cold."

San nods hesitantly, murmuring a small 'excuse me' before slipping out of his shoes before he just stands there, waiting for you to walk first. You giggle at him, showing him where the veranda is before excusing yourself to grab your food.

"Pretty, right?" You ask as you sat down besides him, looking out towards the view of the city. Your house is located a bit further than the city, your house shows the perfect view of the small number of lights the city shows. It's somewhat calming to you, mix that with the sounds of cicadas and you have the perfect night to just clear your mind.

"Yeah, it's calming."

You hum, glancing as San takes out a small container, pulling out a sandwich before eating it in silence. You followed suit, offering small bites of food to him when you notice he only brought his sandwich. "Did you make it yourself?"

"No, my...eomma made it."

Noticing the tense tone in his voice, you only hum in acknowledgement before continuing to eat. It's nice to have someone eating with you, the silence isn't uncomfortable, both of you appreciating each other's presence in silence. It's kinda funny to you that you're comfortable enough to invite a boy you just met a few hours ago. Then again, it's partially because your mother nor aunt is here to bother you.

"Thank you for letting me eat here," San quietly says, playing with his fingers nervously as he waits for your response.

"It's fine. I quiet like having someone here to eat with," You smile. "Plus, you're a good company. Well, better than my mother and aunt anyway."

"Really?" San sounds excited, before he coughs as he looks away, his cheeks red with embarrassment. "Sorry! That sounds rude of me—"

You laugh, patting his back in a friendly manner. "No, no, it's fine. I'm thinking the same thing as you."

You didn't notice how red his face is after you patted his back, but he did let out a small laugh, joining you before you both fell silent once again.

"Do you, uh, do you mind if I could eat here? Not always! Just when...home gets a bit too tiring," He asks, looking at you with hopeful eyes that it almost made you want to ask what exactly is going on in his house.

"Sure, but it's better if no one's here except me. My mother will deny any visitors this late at night while my aunt will just ask us about anything to annoy us."

San lets out a small laugh, which made you smile as you notice the dimple on his face. He really has a nice smile. "Alright, I'll keep that in mind."

"How 'bout this," You say. "We exchange phone numbers, you'll text me if you have a situation, and we'll agree on where to meet up to eat together. Maybe we could eat somewhere else if my mother and aunt are here."

San nods enthusiastically, shyly grabbing his phone before you enter your phone number. "So, we got a deal?" You offer your hand to shake hands with him.

"Deal," He smiles, grabbing your hand gently before shaking it. Inside your mind, you hope whatever relationship you have with San will last longer than whatever you had in the past. Deep down, you want to have someone else besides Iseul to hangout with. But you've never had the chance, until now.

Fast forward a few months, you and San are still going with the promise. It's nice to have someone to talk too, even though San usually just sits there and listens to you. You felt bad to be the only one talking, since you mostly tell stories about your family and Iseul. San tells you that it's fine, he didn't mind one bit that you're the only one talking.

You did ask him once about his family. Yet the tense posture and tone made you realize just how uncomfortable San is on about his family. So you never asked about it to him again.

Turns out, you and San are in the same year, but he's in another school that's considered by your school the 'enemy'. Probably because of the football feud both of the school has. But you didn't mind, the feud is mostly contained to the football team.

Iseul asked you about San one day, claiming that there's a boy from another school that's been hanging out around the school recently. And she's shocked to see you know about the boy.

"Choi San? He's in our year? He looks younger though!"

"Yeah, that's what I first thought as well. But he claims he's in our year," You shrugged, playing with one of the dolls Iseul has on her bed.

"Mystery solved! I was wondering why he's wandering around our school anyways."

"What do you mean?" You curiously asked Iseul. So far you've never encountered San around your school, only bumped into him once when you're buying groceries after school.

"Well, Jihwan told me that he's been seeing a boy from the other school a few times. He thought the boy was in the football team but he's never seen him before."

You hum, thinking back from the conversations you had with San. "No, I don't think he plays football. He likes drawing, so I guess it's not his style."

"Ooo, an artist," Iseul cooed.

"Oh, shut up!" You whine, playfully shoving Iseul before each of you grabbed a pillow before proceeding to hit each other with it. It felt nice hanging out with Iseul again. Although you did feel a bit weird after coming here, like there's someone staring at you.

You dodged the pillow Iseul throws when you catch a glimpse of black moving outside of her window. You frown before walking closely to the window, opening it slightly to see nothing outside.

"Why? What's wrong?"

You turned back to her, already sensing her panic rising when her tone wavered from your hard stare. You quickly masked it with a smirk, not wanting Iseul to hyperventilate just from a shadow. "Ha! Did I get you? You're so easy to scare."

"Asshole!" She screeched before pouncing on you, tickling your sides as you tried move away from her grasp. The squealing laughter from Iseul made you not realize the snapping of a branch outside, nor the figure running away into the darkness.

"San? Is that you, boy?"

San flinched, slowly looking towards the source of the voice, finding a man sitting in the darkness. San noticed the red stains covering his shirt right away, the man slowly wiping a bloody knife clean.

"Yeah. It's me, appa."

"Where were you, huh? You made Seokjin all worried," The man pointed towards a closed room. But from the screams emanating inside the room, it's obvious his other father is inside with his...mother.

"Sorry. I was out helping a friend."

"A friend?" The man, Taecyeon, whistled with a smirk. "Don't tell me you've found a girl to fuck?"

San felt annoyance rising inside his body at how his appa talked about you, but he composed himself as he shakes his head. "No, a friend wanted me to help them with their homework." He lied through his teeth.

Another man, Byungho, typing away in the darkness, chuckles lowly as he blew a puff of his cigarette. "Yeah, whatever you say, kid. Go wash up, you don't have school tomorrow. We need to train for your first mission! How exciting is that?"

San nods as the two men laughs, Taecyeon ushering San away so they could start training. San ignores as the screaming intensifies, throwing his school bag carelessly as he huffs. He glances at the lone picture hanging on his wall.

Five men. One woman. One boy.

His appa is Taecyeon, the so called leader of the assassin group. The others? San only calls them as his uncles, even though he knows they're all not really related. Seems like almost all of them owes something to his appa, but they stick together throughout the years for some reason.

His eomma is a mystery. San notices very early how different they are. He has no similarities to his eomma nor appa. But that really didn't matter, he loves his eomma nonetheless. Yet the abuse she suffers everyday makes him wonder why she hasn't run away when she's usually all alone in the house when they're all busy.

His eomma only smiles tight when he ask her about this, changing the topic swiftly that it made San feel guilty. So he tries to be the good son that his eomma always dreams off.

"Sannie?"

San whips his head towards the now open door, his eomma hiding half of her face with it. But he always notice the blood and bruises anyway.

Always.

"Appa's already waiting for you. Why don't you go wash up so he doesn't get mad at you? Hm?"

"Okay, eomma."

San watches as the door slowly closes, making him sigh as he cracked his neck to ease the tension. He needs to be careful after almost getting caught by you. He's training as an assasin like his appa for God's sake! He can't even walk quietly without you noticing.

What a loser.

Maybe he does need the extra training his appa suggested. Sure, it could be useful for missions in the future. But what's most important is so that he could always be with you without you noticing.

"Hey, did you hear the news?"

You hum, doodling away on your notebook as your teacher excused himself to the toilet. "What news exactly?"

"You know Mr. Huang? The one who lost his child a few years ago?"

"Yeah, I know him."

"He's dead," Iseul whispers. "Like...murdered. Not because of some natural death, literal murder!"

You frown, looking at Iseul with concerned eyes. "Iseul, how do you even know that?"

She shrugs. "I heard from the lady next door. Said that police from even outside of the city came here because of how gruesome it is."

"Wow, that bad?"

"Real bad," She mumbles. "My dad told me to stay away from the area since apparently the government is handling it."

"Wait, what about his wife? Is she—you know, dead?"

Iseul thinks silently for a few seconds, before shaking her head. "Not that I know of. The lady did told my mom that Mrs. Huang survived the whole ordeal, but she hasn't woken up yet."

"Poor woman. Already losing a son and now her own husband," You grimaced at the thought.

Rumor has it, both Mr. And Mrs. Huang's son was kidnapped in an apparent ransom act. But when they paid the money, their son never came back to them. Some say he's dead, even Mr. Huang. But a few still holds hope that the boy is still alive to this day, and Mrs. Huang apparently still believes that.

People gossip about how her son's room stayed untouched for the past few years. How Mrs. Huang once went mad at her own friend when they entered the room without permission. Soon after, her mental health started declining, making her stay at home most of the time.

"—from your lover boy?"

"Huh?" You snapped out of your head. "What did you say?"

"I said—have you heard from lover boy?"

"Shut up, Iseul. And no, I haven't heard from him for the past few days."

"You really should just visit his house," Iseul remarks softly as Mr. Kim entered the classroom again. "Didn't you say his house's near you?"

You never really say this to Iseul, not even San. But you did once visit his house to ask for his whereabouts. The result? Only a blank stare from the woman who answered the door. Her makeup barely covers the bruises marking her face, making you realize why San didn't want you to find out what's happening inside his house.

"Yeah, maybe I'll go after school," You replied back, knowing deep down you're hesitant to even step onto his family's land ever again.

Biting into the juicy meat, you hum happily as you munch on the braised beef your mother cooked a few hours ago. Your aunt is watching TV, laughing away on some random game show you haven't heard off. Your mother ate silently across you, her eyes empty as usual before she softly coughs to get your attention.

"(Name)? Have you ever stepped foot to the Choi's residence?"

You stopped chewing, looking towards your mother where she holds a grimace. "Um, no. I've never—"

"Answer me truthfully, girl."

Sheesh, she's really mad. Your mother rarely says that to you, only when she meant serious business only.

"I have. But only once! After that, I've never went there again."

Your mother hums, her grimace gone, changed into a more somber expression. "From now on I forbid you to go there, okay?"

"But—"

"No buts," She glares at you. "I don't care what's happening inside of that house, but what I do care is about your well-being."

You huff. "Why are you like this anyway?"

"Something happened. A few police came to the house this afternoon asking about the certain people living there. Turns out it's about the case of Mr. Huang, they suspect the killer—or killers— are living inside of that house right now."

Your eyes turned wide, mouth hanging open as your mother clicked her tongue before closing your mouth with her hand. "Don't do that. It's disgusting."

"Wait, hold on—what do you mean suspects? Are they suspecting everyone there?" You ask. Is this why San hadn't replied back to you?

She only shrugs. "As far as I know, the police are still investigating it. But...they have a strong evidence against the people living there."

"Strong evidence?"

"No clue. They didn't tell me anything again. What they did tell me though," Your mother paused her chewing as she thinks of her next words. "Is that whoever killed Mr. Huang was not only one person."

"A group then?"

Your mother shrugs. "Maybe. They're trying to find some of the stolen goods from his house, like jewelry and expensive items. And police started to search here when they got a tip from someone that one of Mr. Huang's expensive vases were found outside of the house."

God, this only made you more panicked as you tend to overthink about every little thing. San not replying to your texts, him disappearing for a few days. And apparently he's living with murderers? Then again, this should not surprise you ever since your first and last visit to the house.

"Go to sleep," Your mother tells you as she cleans the table. "You still have school tomorrow."

You can't even talk back to your mother, saying that tomorrow's Saturday, but you follow her order nonetheless. Too busy thinking about San in your head.

Entering your room, you softly closed the door only to be surprised by a hand covering your mouth. You scream loudly yet the person behind you shushed you gently. "Please, (name), be quiet."

San?

"San? What the fuck?" You whisper aggressively as he slowly drops the hand from your mouth. You gasp when you're met with the sight of him being bruised and bloody, his eyes tired as his posture turned from tense to weak.

"Oh my—what happened?!"

"Um, can I sit first? I don't think I can't stand much longer."

You quickly usher him to sit on a pillow you throw haphazardly on the floor, pointing at him with hard eyes as you open the door. "Wait here. Don't move. You need to answer questions first before you're off the hook."

He sheepishly smiles, giving you a thumbs up. "Sure, I'll wait here."

You exited your room quietly, walking slowly towards where your mother kept a small first aid kit near the bathroom. Placing it under your arm, you notice your mother and aunt are too busy doing their own thing. You took this advantage to walk quickly to your room, closing the door and locking it before you turn to San.

"First question, how did you get into my room?"

"Um, the window was opened and your mother's here. So I just—" San motions towards the open window, making you huff as you closed the window shut before covering it with the curtains.

"Second question, what the fuck happened to you?"

"It's...a long story."

"We've got time." You glare at him. "Tomorrow's Saturday, so talk."

San lets out a small laugh before he quiets down, nervously playing with his bruised hands as you sat down in front of him. "I'm very private on family matters. I don't want anyone to find out about it, but let's just say I reached a breaking point when I discovered some...new informations."

You pause, before dabbing one of his cuts with curious eyes. "New informations?"

He eyes you silently, the silence didn't really made you uncomfortable, but his gaze did things to you. You've never been this close to him, usually him keeping a distance whilst you respect the boundaries he put.

"I don't want to tell you any of it."

"Can I ask why?"

He hissed when you clean the cut near his eyebrow, apologizing quietly as you continue to work on his wounds. "Do you know what happened to Mr. Huang?"

You frown and eyed San with suspicion, dropping your hand towards your lap as you nodded. "Yeah, I'm sorry what happened to him and his wife. I heard she's still alive."

San sighs, quickly rubbing his eyes as you notice the lone tear escaping. "Yeah, I'm sorry for him too."

"Why are you crying for a man you don't even know?"

He stayed quiet, looking away before he glances at you with hurt in his eyes.

"Why? What's wrong?" You whisper, hesitating to hold his hands.

"(Name), I'm a killer."

Your heart dropped, eyes wide as you tried to comprehend what he just said to you. "W-What? You're joking, right?"

San shakes his head silently, still eyeing you with his hard gaze. You laugh nervously, inching yourself away from him as he stayed in place.

"Choi San, this better be a joke. And if it is, it's not funny!"

He sighs, grabbing something out of his pocket before slowly sliding it towards you. "What do you see?"

It's a ring, and it looks pretty expensive from its appearance. "A ring?"

"Look closer."

You silently move closer towards it, eyeing it suspiciously as San snorts. "Why aren't you touching it?"

"Because I don't want to, San! Ever think of that?"

You huff, eyeing the ring on the floor before you noticed a hint of dark red on the ring. You bit your lip, glancing at him as you pointed towards it. "Is that—is that what I think it is?"

"You mean blood? Yeah, it is. But that's not what I want you to see. Look closer, inside of the ring."

His nonchalant response should've made you bolt the fuck out of your room, but you cast away the fear, moving closer again towards the ring.

And that's when you notice it.

A small carving inside of the ring. Initials.

'H.J'

It quickly clicks to you as to who owned the ring.

Huang Jeongcheol. The man who just got killed.

You stand upright quickly, already moving towards the door when San grabs you by the waist. Holding his hand towards your mouth, he shushed you gently as you scream and bite at his hand.

He placed you on your bed, pinning your hands with only one of his hands. You wonder to yourself, has San ever been this strong? From his appearance, you don't want to sound mean, but he looks like a normal school boy who doesn't like to workout nor doing sports.

"(Name), please listen to me. I know you're scared of me right now, but please listen to me. I'm begging you right now to please believe me because after this...I don't think we'll meet again for a long time."

You stare at San with distrust, but you can't help but feel a tad bit of sadness when he looks so dejected at you.

"The family that I know all my life—lied to me," He started. "They used me, trained me to be their apprentice, to kill people."

San looks away, closing his eyes for a moment before looking back at you. "They're not my real family. They never have. Especially after what they've pushed me through, to kill my own father."

You frantically move your head, allowing his hand to move away. "W-What? What do you mean?"

"I've always wondered why Mr. Huang cried at me when I stepped forwards to kill him. I just...did what the others did—kill them to get rid of the evidence," San whispers.

"But then, I started to get uneasy at seeing the house. How it all felt...familiar. And when I saw myself with them in pictures, when I was young—" San laughs wetly, tears running freely down his face. "—I knew, I instantly knew that I just killed my father. My own biological father! I thought I was hallucinating all of it but then I saw how the little boy is wearing my favorite jacket. The one that I own! I can't, I just—"

"Woah, San, calm down," You whisper as his breath became more erratic. You slowly raised his hand towards his chest, allowing the other one placed against your own. "Follow my breathing, good, that's it. Breathe in and out slowly."

"I can't stay here anymore," He whispers after his breathing became normal again, making you frown in confusion. "I killed one of them," He interrupts you. "I told him to tell me the truth, yet he persist that I'm better living with them. And that my father, my biological one, deserved to die."

You're lost for words, you don't even know what to say to him. You only hold his hand tighter as a sign of comfort. But you don't know if you're actually comforting him or yourself.

"I need to go, (name)," He slowly stands up, moving closer to your window to peek between the curtains. "It's not safe for me to be here after what I did. Especially for you."

"F-For me?"

"Yes," He stares at you with hard eyes, yet you can see how his eyes glisten with tears. "I can't let them hurt you. You—I care for you. I appreciate all of the nights we hung out, talk about stupid things and our dreams away from this small town. I want you to achieve your lifelong dream, but that can't happen when you're always the target of a group of killers."

"Why am I a target?" You ask with a quivering tone, fright creeping up on you as San looks on to you with pity. "Please, San. Tell me. Why am I the target?"

"Because they know I'm always here every night."

You can't stop the whimper coming out of your mouth, yet you remember your mother and aunt are still outside. You cry silently with your hand covering your mouth, kneeling to the ground as your breath became erratic.

"Am I going to die? I don't want to die, I can't die, San. I'm scared," You sob silently, crying even harder when he puts your face to his shoulder, his hands holding you tightly as you weep more and more.

"I know," He whispers, tucking your hair back as he hugs you tighter. "That's why I need to lure them away from this town. I don't need any of them in town."

"What? What about your mother?"

San pursed his lips, looking away as he sighs. "I was too late. I can't...protect her."

"Isn't she in the hospital?"

San shakes his head slowly, grasping your hand in his as he exhales a shaky breath. "I was too late, they reached her first."

You bit your lip as you imagined the only blood related family San has now is already dead. You flinched slightly at his hand brushing the tears away from your face, the hand slowly moving your face towards him as he pecks your mouth. A light one, but you've never kissed a boy—or really anyone—before.

You gasp in surprise, finding San smiling softly at you as he placed his forehead to yours. "I love you, (name). I don't know when or where, but I hope we'll meet again soon. Promise you'll wait for me?"

You closed your eyes, holding his hand tighter as a sign of promise. "I will. I'll wait for you."

The cold wind hits your body roughly, making you hug your thin coat tighter as you weave your way between people to get to your apartment. Readjusting the mask you open the building door as you nod towards the owner of the building, an old man who likes to smoke at late hours.

He nodded back before you walked slowly towards your designated floor. You avoid making eye contact with your neighbor, ignoring his staring as he waters his plants.

Such a weird habit. Who waters their plants at night?

Closing and locking the door, you sigh loudly as you pulled the mask from your face, brushing your hair away from your face as you lazily throw your shoes near the door.

So much has happened in the past five years.

Well, not that interesting to be honest in your life. Ever since he left.

San quickly left after the promise you've made to him, you staring at his back as he walks towards the darkness. Never to be seen again.

You've held on to the hope of him returning maybe for a year. Going about your day, ignoring the whispers from people around you about the murders and a missing boy. Paranoia started to slowly grow because of what he said to you, about being possibly killed.

Before you realized that it's all an empty promise and lies.

Then again, you were both young so you can't really blame younger you.

As for older you, or yourself currently, you're now living in the big city! Sure, you may be having a bit of a trouble handling money for university, having to work two part time jobs while studying, living in a small shitty apartment; but you're alive at least. And that's what matters.

Kicking what seems to be paper, you picked up two envelopes, one familiar and one you didn't recognize. You decided to shower first, grimacing at your sweaty skin as you quickly entered the bathroom.

Grabbing the convenient store bento on your way home, you smile as you open the first letter from your mother. Your relationship kinda got better when you left, feeling that deep down your mother missed you. She's just awkward on showing it to you.

Now, the other letter.

It's more high quality, more smaller than the one your mother sent. You looked for any names or address, but nothing. You chewed as you opened the letter, finding a small written letter.

Hello. You might not recognize me now, but I'm finally at a place where I feel I've accomplished enough to ensure your safety. I'll see you soon.

You frowned, looking at the back of the letter to see if there's anymore writing. When you see none, you folded the paper back to its envelope before chucking it towards the mess that is your desk.

A lone paper slips past you, probably from the envelope. You grabbed it only to get more confused and creeped out because it's a drawing.

Of you.

Tossing the drawing alongside the rest of the letter, you contemplated on what to do.

You don't know who it is, probably the letter was sent to a wrong address or it's someone messing with you. Then again, you don't really know whoever would waste their precious time on you anyways.

Cracking your neck with a sigh, you continued to eat before deciding to sleep in for the night. You're not that busy tomorrow, only a few classes and one part time schedule at the convenience store. You laid down, charged your phone, and closed your eyes as you waited for sleep to come by, waiting for tomorrow for you to repeat the same cycle.

"Hey, (name)," Your coworker, Chaemin, greeted with a tired smile as you nodded back in greeting. "I'll go change, wait here."

You hum, standing behind the cashier as you waited for him to finish. Nothing much happened today. Classes went by as normal, a few friends invited you to a party but you sadly declined as you're now working, and that's it.

Entering the staff's room as Chaemin exited, he bid you goodbye as you changed into your uniform. Grabbing your phone before exiting, you held back a yawn as you sat down behind the cash register, looking around the dead and empty convenience store. You don't expect much customers this late at night so you proceeded to play a new game on your phone.

Not long after, a ding was heard indicating a new customer, making you glance up, eyebrows raised in confusion as to who just entered.

A man, wearing a dark grey three piece suit, holding a briefcase as he slowly walks towards the drink isle. Who wears black gloves anyways?

Not something you would see this late at night, but it's better than some drunkards yelling profanities all around. You realized you're staring too hard on the man, flicking your gaze towards your phone once more as slow steps rang throughout the store.

"Excuse me?"

"Y-Yes?" You replied back with surprise, not expecting the man to talk. You noticed the man smiling as he holds the drink in his hand, smiling slightly making you notice the small dimple on his cheek.

He's pretty handsome, you'll give him that.

"Is this the 'buy one get one' drink promo?"

"Yes, but you can only buy the same flavour to get the promo, sir."

"Sir? Do I really look that old to you?" He chuckles softly, grabbing the drinks and continue to look around to grab snacks.

You scratched your head in embarrassment. "O-Oh, sorry. Just formalities and all for me, you know?"

The man hums, walking towards the you as he placed the small basket on the counter before smiling at you. "No worries, don't be scared. Just jokin' with you."

You smile politely, scanning the items before stating the price, accepting the cash as you tried to ignore his hard stare at you. Sure, he's handsome and all but he's just a passing customer that you'll soon forget in a few days. Besides, nothing exciting ever happens to you anyway.

You waited for the man to go away, surprise in your eyes as he slides one of the drinks to you. You looked up to him, pointing at the drink. "Um, what's this?"

"A treat."

"For?"

He shrugs with a smile, "Just something to make your day better."

"Alright...thank you?"

"You're welcome," He replies softly, grabbing the plastic bag that seemed so out of place with the rest of his outfit. As he exited the store, you squinted your eyes when you saw a flash of red splatter behind his suit.

You sighed heavily, rubbing your eyes in frustration and tiredness. You really do need to fix up your schedule or you'll pass out anytime soon.

Blood?

You thought that one encounter was going to be the last time you'll ever see the man. That's what you had in mind as you've worked through your other part-time jobs, just going with the flow.

It's a surprise when the man entered once more, greeting you with a smile. His suit is immaculate as ever, black with unopened buttons at the top, sleeves rolled as he walks around the store.

"Rough night?" He asks, sliding the drink to you as he finished paying.

You shrug, thanking him halfheartedly as you open the drink given to you. "Just tired."

"Well," He starts. "I hope tomorrow will be a better day for you. You never know what's going to happen, huh?"

You know those words were supposed to make you feel better, but somehow, it only does the opposite for you. You nod with an awkward smile. "Yeah, sure."

"Goodnight then—" He squints behind his glasses, reading your name tag. "—(name)."

"Goodnight."

You stare at his retreating back, noting no sights of red splatter on his back. That is, until you're eyes reached his shoes that you notice the red small imprint it left behind.

Yeah, you're definitely not going crazy from sleep.

"What?! You've never dated anyone in that big of a city?" Iseul hissed through the phone, making you scoff at her. "Uh, yeah? Too busy making money so I could live the next day is pretty important to me, you know?"

"Oh, I know. I didn't mean it that way."

"No," You held back a yawn behind your hand. "I kinda agree with you here. I just—I don't know, I don't have time? Sure, dating sounds like a dream for me. But I'm afraid I'm to busy to manage a relationship and I'll get dumped."

"That's why communication is important!" Iseul replied back with vigor. "Look, I'm not going to force you but my boyfriend has a friend there, coincidentally, that's also single."

"Is that why you called me?"

"No! Well...maybe," She laughs nervously. You smirk in amusement but told her to go on.

"Right! His name is Donghyun, goes to the same university if I'm not wrong. He's older around three years than you. Sounds good?"

"Uh, any other information that you know besides that?"

"Sorry, I don't really know the guy. But, my boyfriend says that he's really nice. If you're down, I'm gonna give your number to him."

You sigh, thinking about the dangers of meeting a stranger for a date. Then again, you really need something other than working your ass off in your spare time. You contemplated for a minute, before cutting off Iseul's rambling on the phone. "Hey, I'll go."

Iseul started to scream loudly, making you pull away from the phone in an instant. "My ears!"

"Sorry, sorry! I'm just so happy for you!"

You laugh lightly, "I haven't even met the guy, Iseul."

"Well, I hope he's good to you. If not, then I can go to you and find him to beat his ass up if he ever hurts you."

"Alright, I hope you protect me from whatever danger there is," You hum.

The conversation between you and Iseul goes on until the morning. Thankfully, you only had one class and no work since you covered one of your coworkers shifts and in return, now they're covering yours.

It's a surprise when an unknown phone number texted you, introducing himself as the man himself, Donghyun. He texted cutesy enough, adding cat stickers every now and then that made you laugh. He wanted to meet you today, which made you think about how he's really desperate but deep down you're desperate too.

You agreed to meet up after your class this afternoon, meeting at a cafe nearby so you assumed he also has classes today.

Wanting to make a good impression, you decided to dress up a bit more nicer with a dress. You kept your hairstyle simple yet pretty, using some light makeup before deciding to go to class after a big brunch.

You ignored the curious glances you received at class, quickly leaving when it finished. You texted Donghyun that you're walking to the cafe, surprised that he's already there and asked if you wanted any drinks or food.

When you arrived, you looked around before seeing someone waving their hand at you. You held back a noise of surprise at the sight of a familiar face. You've seen him before a few times at university, what a small world.

"Donghyun?"

"Yeah! You must be (name), it's nice meeting you," He smiles widely as he gestures towards the seat across him. "I already ordered the drinks and food here. So, uh, dig in!"

"Thanks," You smiled at him.

Donghyun really is a nice guy. Very attentive to your needs, a true gentleman. But a few times he sounds a bit...ignorant.

"Oh, wow! You work two part-time jobs and go to university? That's really admirable."

You nod along. "Yeah, it sucks and tiring. But I need the money, ya know?"

"Why can't your parents pay for it? It seems like a parents duty to pay for their child's education."

You held back a grimace, hiding it with a shrug of your shoulders. "Yeah, that's true. But they don't have much money to support me plus themselves. So I had to resort to working."

"No wonder you look tired all the time. No offense, but you look like a zombie every time I see you."

You laugh along with him, noticing how he opens his mouth once more probably to ask you the same questions. But you diverted the topic to him, asking what major he's in.

You learned Donghyun was a business major, following along his mother's footsteps to continue their oil tycoon. Everything suddenly clicks as Donghyun tells you his story.

He's old money and super rich. Whilst you're an ordinary country bumpkin.

Basically two different worlds.

But you really don't care about that now. He seems like a sweetheart, and you're tired of the same cycle you're going through every fucking day.

You need a breath of fresh air.

So you agreed to date him. Scheduling seems a bit hard because of your schedule, but Donghyun seems to be fine with it, asking you to message him if you have any spare time.

One date turns to two. Two turns into three more dates. Until you realized you've been dating Donghyun for the past three months.

He really is a sweet guy. But you know it's never going to last long from the expectations his parents had for him about his life, so you took everything lightly and just enjoyed the flow. Besides, he likes to spoil you with gifts. You're not going to decline that, especially if it's necessary needs like foods and clothes.

One thing that never changed though is the man that routinely visits the convenience store once a week. New suits, same old face, and the always changing positions for the blood. Because of this, you kept your distance from him. Always setting boundaries when he asks you personal questions, but never getting mad since you don't want to make him pissed off.

"New bracelet?"

"Huh?"

"Is that a new bracelet you bought? Looks cute," The man smiled, pointing towards the beaded bracelet you had on.

"Yeah, my boyfriend bought it for me," You replied back nonchalantly, scanning the items in front of you. Not noticing how the man posture snapped in an instant from relaxed to tense.

He hums, tracing letters on the counter. "Boyfriend, huh? Who's the lucky guy?"

"No one you know, of course. But it's someone from my university."

The man nodded once more, scoffing before he quickly replaced the frown with a smile. "How long you've been dating?"

"Not your business."

"Aw, I thought we were friends—"

"Uh, no? I don't even know your name. Why would I be friends with you?" You stared at the man with a confused gaze, quickly averting your eyes when he only blankly stared at you with no expression on his face.

"Of course, my apologies. Here, take the drink. You need it."

You hesitantly grabbed it. "Thanks, I guess."

He nods once, grabs his things, before walking out of the store. You let out a relieved sigh, pushing the drink out of your way. "Fucking creep."

You glanced into the empty streets outside, relieved the man was nowhere to be seen. You grabbed your phone just in case when you saw a text from Donghyun.

You: when?

Dodo: coffee date? <3

You contemplated for a while, knowing you have a shift tomorrow. But one of your coworkers could cover you for one day, it wouldn't hurt.

Dodo: hoping tmrw is ok?

You: sounds good :)

You ignored the sinking feeling growing inside you, wanting to have fun once in a while without overthinking it.

But maybe you should've listened to your gut this time.

"Wow, this place is really secluded," You commented at the small indie cafe. Donghyun shrugged, pulling out a chair for you. "I know, but the reviews are really good. And my friends told me it's worth it."

"Alright, did they recommend anything?"

"The croissant looks good, but they recommended we buy the red velvet slice."

You nodded, giving out your usual drink order to Donghyun as he walks up to order. You looked around and noticed how empty it is for a supposedly popular cafe. Yeah, two people are outside right now, drinking and smoking. But other than that, the place looks deserted.

"Here you go," Donghyun placed the drinks and food. "Pretty fast but they don't have any customers besides us right now."

"Yeah, doesn't it feel weird to you? A popular cafe this empty on a Friday?"

He shrugs, already drinking away. "Like you said, it's a secluded place. It's popular, yeah, but only a few people know."

"Really?"

"Not a lot things on social media, but maybe this cafe runs from word of mouth? You know, people talk to their friends who in return come here."

"Maybe," You answered, but there's still doubt lingerie in your head. You brushed it off as Donghyun started to talk, asking about you and telling stories about him and his friends.

The cake was honestly really good, you can't get enough of it. But you stopped eating when you notice Donghyun yawning for the fifth time in a row. "You alright?"

"Yeah, just—" He yawns widely before continuing. "I don't know why I feel really sleepy."

"Did you not sleep well last night?"

"I did! I just—I don't know why I'm suddenly so tired."

You opened your mouth to reply back but only met with your own yawn passing through. "Woah, that's a surprise."

Donghyun laughs. "Are you tired too? Damn, we're meant to be." His head slumps towards the table, no sounds from him other than soft breathing.

Your gaze started to get weird, looking around as your head started to get dizzy. Out of the corner of your eyes, you saw the barista talking to someone, someone in a suit. You tried to move away from the approaching figure, but felt your body too weak to even move.

In the next few seconds, your eyes started to get droopy before you succumb to the darkness.

You don't know how long you're out, but one thing for sure is you got a massive headache. And you're tied to a chair in a small room.

You groan at the light hitting your eyes as you open your eyes, grimacing at the painful headache growing rapidly.

"—Thank you again, for the help."

"Well, don't got much choices do I?"

"Yes, that's true. But thank you nonetheless."

"Hey," You spoke out loud. "Hey! Where the fuck am I?!"

"Sounds like your lover's awake," A gruff voice replied.

The door besides you opened slowly, making you glare at the familiar man smiling widely at you. "Hello, headache?"

"No shit!" You hissed at the man who only innocently smiles at you. "What did you do? Where's Donghyun?"

"Now, now, you don't have to worry about some other man," He gently replied, grabbing an extra chair out of nowhere. You glared at the man as he fixed his cuff links, clicking his tongue when he noticed a small patch of red staining his white clean button up.

"Who's blood is that?"

"No one you need to worry about," He laughs, fixing his glasses as he smiles at you. "I'm sorry we need to reunite like this, but you gave me no choice."

"What the—wait, reunite? What do you mean reunite?" You whispered in shock.

He laughs softly at you, brushing a piece of hair away from your face as you flinched away from him. "I don't blame you for not recognizing me. I have to...alter my appearance because of my job."

"Just tell me who you are!"

"I've killed my own biological family members, who's been searching for me every since a group of assassins kidnapped me for ransom," He starts, playing with the ring on his finger. "Huang Jeongcheol, the innocent man that I've killed without knowing. And Huang Hyorin, who I've failed because I was too late to save her."

Your head started to ache painfully, your breathing becomes more ragged as you stared at the man you once knew in your past, suddenly here with you.

Kidnapped you. And could possibly hurt you.

"S-San?"

"Hi, (name)," San smiles as he moves closer to you. He coos as he brushed away the tears that escapes your eyes. You didn't even notice you're crying, you didn't know why. Maybe because all this time you've let go of the past with him, finding it to be near impossible when he didn't even tried to contact you.

"Why are you crying, love?"

"Wha—I thought, I thought you're dead!"

"And why would I be?" He hums, continuing to brush your hair softly, a smile etched on his face as you tried to calm your breathing.

"You said people were after you! Tried to kill you!" You screamed loudly, glaring at him with wild eyes. "And you said they're also after me! How can I not conclude that you're dead when you didn't contacted me whatsoever!"

He sighs, sitting again in front of you whilst he holds your hands to his. "I know. And I've wanted to meet you after I've sent the letter—"

"You've sent that creepy letter?!"

"Yeah, I gotta admit it is creepy," He laughs. "But anyways, back to the story. I didn't contact you because I've been working."

"You got a job? Here?"

"Not necessarily here," He explains. "Let's just say I've become what I've been trained for since my younger years."

Dread grows inside your body, looking at San with weary eyes as you hoped whatever suspicions you had about him was wrong. "You kill people for a living? L-Like them?"

He nods once.

"Oh, San...why? Did anyone force you to work this—"

"No one forced me!" He yells, making you jump as you closed your mouth in an instant. His eyes now wild with fire, glaring incessantly at the wall as his hold on your hands turned tighter. He lets go of your hands as you yelped in pain, mumbling a small 'sorry'.

"No one forced me, (name)," He continues. "Yes, I've been living like hell just so I could live another day! Hiding in slums, stealing, begging to strangers for food, whatever I could do to hide from that bastards!"

"But I've had enough one day, I've just had it with them," He hissed, pacing back and forth in front of you as he crossed his arms. "So I become a hitman, for the people who need it. I need the money and the relations to get back at them, and I've become weak over the years because I didn't train enough. But one job turned into more and more, and suddenly people in the industry know my name. They respected me for my work ethic, cleanliness, and no bullshit attitude."

"A-And did you—"

"Yeah, I did it," He smirks in triumph. "I killed the last one just two years ago. Bastard didn't even put up a fight, fucking beheaded him. It felt so...euphoric to see the light slowly disappearing from his eyes."

You flinched when his gaze turns to you. "And you, (name), I've never forgotten you once in my life. I've prayed to whatever God is there to always be there for you when I'm not there. I've hold on to the promise we've made, and when I first saw you here—" He laughs happily. A lovesick look on his face as he sighs, "I couldn't believe my eyes. You look the same yet you look so angelic and beautiful when I first saw you. I thought about the future we could have together, just us together. Maybe we could get a pet. Besides, I'm respected now! I have money to spoil you and you don't have to even work. But..."

"But?"

"But you broke our promise," San hissed with venom. "You said you'll wait for me! You said you wanted to be with me. And I find you all of a sudden with a boyfriend!"

He looks at you with hurt and betrayal, hands clenched tightly as you tried to look away from his stare. "What was I supposed to do? Wait for you?!"

"Yes! You promised me, (name)!"

"We were young!" You bellowed out to him, chest heaving with anger as he looks at you with hard eyes. "We were young, San. It's stupid for me to just wait in that damn town. I was scared to move away, yes, but I wanted to get out of that small town since forever."

You looked at him desperately, ignoring the warning signs ringing inside your head from the look on San's face. "I have to think for myself and my family. I moved here to get better education, and I worked my ass off to get money so I could buy food and pay for my utilities! I was stressed out thinking people were out to get me, before I realized it's all bullshit!"

"It's not bullshit, (name)!"

"Oh, I know," You mumbled. "But I can't live my life just for some promise I made to them in the past. It's called moving on, San."

He's quiet as you cough lightly, now feeling how dried your throat is as you glanced around the room for any escape. You turned to look at him as he lets out a breathy laugh, hands wiping his face in an obvious attempt to hide his anger.

"So, the promise you made...it doesn't mean anything to you, huh?"

You looked away, closing your eyes before answering. "It used to mean something. But at one point, I just—I just let go of my worries. I got into a good university, I moved away, worked hard for money so I could sustain my life. I've met good friends here—"

"And a boyfriend."

"Yes," You glared at him. "A boyfriend. Whom I've choose to date because I wanted to. I know it's not a serious relationship, but I wanted to get out of the stress for just one moment. And you're mad at me for that?!"

San shakes his head, looking away from your gaze. "I'm not mad, just disappointed. I wanted for us to be together, and now you're protecting this asshole like you love him."

"I do love him," You answered. He scoffs loudly, laughing loudly as he shakes his head. "Like you've said, this relationship wasn't meant to last this long. And I think I should end this now."

You're eyes widen as he stood up, cracking his knuckles as he stretches. "S-San? What—What are you doing?"

He smiles, not in a loving way, but more sinister and mocking. "Don't worry," He pats your head, messing up your hair even more. "I just need to get rid of him. Then, we'll finally be together."

"What?! No, wait!"

You tried to move, tried to get help by screaming, only to stop when you hear a loud scream outside. You whimper when a thud was heard outside, trying to find anything to cut the ropes tying you up as the screams started to get even more desperate.

"No! San, please! Leave him be," You cried out.

Another scream.

"Please, please! Just let him go! He didn't do anything wrong!"

A groan from Donghyun before he pleads for his life.

"San! Please, don't kill him."

A final 'thud' was heard outside.

No sounds.

You cried and cried, tears running down freely from your eyes as you whimper. Donghyun is dead because of you.

You didn't look up when the door opened, too exhausted to even lift up your head as you continued to sob silently.

"Thanks again, Jongin."

You glanced up to see the barista standing near the doorway. "Whatever," He mumbles. "I need to clean up anyways. The usual?"

San hums happily, brushing away the strands of hair that has fallen down his perfectly styled hair. "Yeah. Make sure to cut him up, place him in different areas. I'll tip you even more money."

"You got it."

With one final look from the man, he closed the door.

Leaving you with this psychopath.

"Look at me, (name). I know you're tired, but please look at me," He cooed.

"No," You whispered, not able to see the blood stains on him.

He sighs, walking up to you to grab you by the hair. You yelled in pain, before shutting your mouth as his grip turned tighter.

"Here's a warning for you," He starts. His eyes crazed and face covered in blood. "Do stupid things that'll make me mad, and others will face the consequences."

He points towards the door. "That's warning number one."

"I don't want to hurt you anymore," He whispers, grip turning more loose as he lets go of your hair. He walks around you, eyes cold and emotionless. So different from the one before. "But, if I have to—I will kill others you love."

"No, please."

"And if you do something that steps over the boundaries I'll give you," He stops in front of you, cupping your chin so you'll look at him. "I will kill your mother."

"No!" You scream, desperation in your tone. "Please, not her! Don't kill anyone," You cried out to him.

San smiles, his expression turned more soft in a matter of seconds. He kneels before hugging you, kissing your lips deeply like he's a starved man. He bites your lip enough to make it bleed, making you whimper in pain. He sighs, happily, brushing your tears away with his thumb before smiling.

"Be mine, (name). All of your worries will go away, and no one will ever be hurt because of you."

From the things you only have, he really needs to spoil you more. He thinks about the new clothes he could buy, some nice accessories for you to wear, maybe even some naughty things for the both of you to enjoy—

San hums a happy tune as he moves the boxes from your small apartment. He can't believe you live in this dump when you could've lived with him in a nice apartment. Then again, you lived according to your budget so he can't really blame you.

Plus he had other things to work on, planning the apartment, making sure you're comfortable there. Maybe killing a few people to make sure nobody gets suspicious as to where you are. Families are usually the most bothersome people to handle with, that's why he needed to make your last remaining family member die. He's skilled enough anyways to make it seem like an accident.

Your mother, a heart attack.

Your aunt, car crash.

Your friend, Iseul, killed by her boyfriend.

You don't know of course. He'll make sure of that.

"Hey, who are you?"

San looks around before seeing an old man standing at the end of the hallway, voice gruff probably because of the cigarette he's smoking. He smiles in ease, knowing it's your landlord after the stalking he's done throughout the years.

"Oh! I'm (name)'s boyfriend, sir."

"And what exactly are you doing?"

"Just moving out some of her stuff," He shrugs. "We decided to live together now."

"And why isn't she here?"

His smile turned more tense, already feeling annoyed from questions. Can't this old fart just go away?

"She's sick, sadly. So I'm tasked with moving the rest of her stuff."

The old man only nods. "Good, take care of her. She's too coped up here, she's still young."

San laughs, "That's what I've said to her too!"

He eyes the old man, cocking his head to the side as he smirks in amusement. "Don't worry, I'll take real good care of her."

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere kpop #ateez #ateez imagines #ateez x reader #yandere ateez #san x reader #san x you

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zepskies · 2 years ago

Text

Never Say Goodbye - Part 3

Pairing: Dean x Female Reader

Summary: The first time you and Dean sensed each other’s thoughts and feelings, you were just kids. It would take years to realize that you both were bonded for life, and even longer to finally meet. [Soulmate AU] (Rated M for eventual scenes – 18+)

Word Count: 4,500 Warnings: Language, fluff.

Part 3: Contact

As it turned out, your life started to get better after you missed that shift at the coffee shop.

Oh, you still got fired. But the experience of nearly getting splattered on the pavement by an oncoming truck gave you some unexpected clarity about your life.

Mainly, you needed to stop wasting it. You were tired of jobs that would pay your bills but not bring you closer to your career. And frivolous thoughts of coffee shop boys and…the hope of running into your soulmate.

Maybe one day, you could dare to hope, but from now on, you wouldn’t let it rule your thoughts. You wouldn’t hope too hard either.

It could save you from the disappointment of never hearing anyone’s thoughts but your own.

So you decided to check the University of South Dakota’s career board for jobs, and you discovered an opening in the history department! A research assistant for one of your favorite professors, who was writing their dissertation on the strange, superstitious, and sometimes down-right disgusting social practices of the Ancient Greeks (including bottling up the sweat of their best athletes, because they thought their musky body oils contained magical properties).

Since you were already majoring in history, you were a shoe-in for the job. And working directly with your professor gave you a great resource for future classes.

Four years later, you had earned your bachelor’s degree in History. You even decided to further your education when you were able to get a scholarship for graduate school.

Now you were just one semester away from finishing your master’s. You still worked in the history department, but you had been able to upgrade—to Executive Secretary to the Dean of Ancient Studies.

It sounded fancy, but really, you were a glorified slave. Or at least, your boss seemed to think so.

“I need you to cancel my meeting at two,” said Dr. Birch. She breezed into your tiny office without knocking, startling you from where you were hunched over your laptop.

“Good morning!” came your reflexive greeting, though it was a bit too loud and sharp. You internally winced at yourself and relaxed your posture, like a bird unruffling its feathers. “Cancel your meeting with Dr. Wells?”

Dr. Wells was a nice man, and an important one. He was the Head Dean of the entire History department. Technically, he was above Dr. Birch. It wasn’t a good look to blow him off, but you weren’t about to say so.

“Yes, I have an important lunch, and I already know it’s going to go overtime. Gary will understand,” she replied. She was looking at her phone rather than at you. For all she cared, you were just a calendar with hands.

Dr. Helen Birch was a brilliant woman. She’d published no less than five books, had won awards for her peer-reviewed articles, and she had been your academic advisor all through graduate school.

She could also rival Meryl Streep for “bitchy-ass boss” in The Devil Wears Prada.

“I also need you to grade the final exams for one of my classes,” she said. “Greek Studies this time.”

You held back a sigh. Again? I’ll never finish my own finals at this rate.

But what you said was, “Sure, I can do that. And I’ll email Dr. Wells to reschedule.”

“Yes, make sure it’s not on Thursday,” she said, brushing a finger through her thin blonde hair. “I have to leave early to get my roots touched up before I go away this weekend.”

“That’s fun,” you chatted while you revised Dr. Birch’s calendar on your computer (and sent an apology email to Dr. Wells). “Where to?”

“Oh, I have this tedious conference in Chicago. But then my boyfriend is taking me skiing in Breckenridge.” She sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. “I simply can’t wait. This semester has been a drain on my psyche, and just terrible for my migraines.”

With the email sent, you took a little breath and gathered some courage as you got up from your desk and gathered a handful of papers you had stapled together. It was a rough draft of your thesis, which was only a bit worse for wear (including a suspect coffee stain that you didn’t remember accidentally putting there).

“Actually, I was going to ask you if you got my email about my thesis. I just wanted to go over some of the feedback you gave me on the draft,” you said, trying to sound more confident than you felt.

Dr. Birch raised a brow. “What of it?”

“Well.” You showed her the front page, which was covered in red ink. “Mainly the part where you crossed out the first three pages and commented, ‘Missing the point.’”

She nodded. “Yes. I’m afraid I have nothing to add about that.”

Well, that didn’t exactly help you. The first three pages was your entire introduction to your thesis, “TV & Film: The Modern-Day Mythology of the Masses.”

You must’ve had a pitiful, lost look on your face, because Dr. Birch finally took pity on you. She sighed.

“You are a creative girl. I’ll give you that, but your degree is not in cinematography. You are a historian,” she said. “And while the ‘Well of Souls’ in Raiders of the Lost Ark may be based on a real historical place in Jerusalem, that does not mean Indiana Jones can, or should be described as a ‘religious experience.’”

My ten-year-old self would bed to differ, you wanted to retort, but you kept your mouth shut and lowered your eyes. Dr. Birch nodded to herself and was about to leave your office, until she stopped short and gave you her Amex card.

“Oh. And get me a coffee, would you, dear?”

The moment your day ended and you were able to get into your car, you let out a long sigh of relief. While you waited for your car to warm up, you massaged your hand, aching from grading papers for Dr. Birch’s class.

You rubbed your hands together, this time to warm them as the frigid air draining from the car still bit into your skin. A shudder tingled through your body, and not in a pleasant way. Honest to God, I hate the winter.

On reflex, you toyed with the silver ring on your right hand—your mom’s ring. It usually comforted you, but today, remembering her made your heart heavy. Because today was the anniversary.

You still remembered that snowy day when you were fourteen, could picture it so clearly, like a scene painted on glass.

With one last sigh, you fished out your phone to call your dad. It rang for a few seconds (it always took him an eternity to answer his phone, and it drove you crazy).

“Hello?”

“Hey, Dad,” you said.

“Hey. Just got off work?”

“Yeah, I’m headed back to Sioux Falls. Want to meet at home and go together, or do you just want to meet me at the cemetery?”

The other line was silent for a moment. Longer than you would’ve liked.

“You’re coming, right?” you pressed.

“Look, I’m gonna have to work late tonight,” Jack said. “Don’t wait up for me.”

“Really?” Your voice was terse. “It’s one day a year, Dad. You can’t even manage that?”

“I told you I’m working a case.” He sounded annoyed. You didn’t care.

You were pissed.

“Whatever,” you dismissed. But then, you realized you weren’t willing to let it go just yet. “You know, I just find it interesting. On her birthday, Christmas, today, somehow you just can’t be bothered to visit your wife.”

“Hey, drop it, all right?” your dad snapped back.

“Sure. It’s none of my business, I guess.”

“I don’t need your sarcasm either.”

You silently fumed, but you weren’t willing to hang up the phone first. You didn’t want to look petty, and apparently, neither did he. You both could be stubborn like that, sitting in a tense stretch of silence instead of just…

Instead of just, I don’t know what, you could admit, if only to yourself. Eventually, his voice reached your ears.

“I’ll go when I can,” he said.

“Fine.”

And you really did hang up this time.

What should’ve been an hour drive back into your hometown took almost two with the traffic.

Oh yeah, you still lived at home with your dad. It wasn’t ideal, especially with a long-ass commute every day. But unfortunately, being a full-time student with a part-time job didn’t give you the budget to have your own life.

At least you had your car—a dark blue Camaro your uncle had restored and gifted you for your twenty-first birthday. You didn’t talk to your Uncle Bobby as much as you would like. Between work and school and taking care of the house for you and your dad, you didn’t have much free time on your hands. You did see Bobby around town sometimes, and occasionally shared a beer with him when your demanding schedule allowed.

Your dad had never liked it, you hanging around your uncle. So you didn’t tell him.

That seemed to work out better for both of you.

In fact…

You reached for your phone again and found your uncle’s number.

“Stop badgering me, Rufus. I’m busy.”

Your lips curved into a grin. “Uncle Bobby?”

“Oh. Hi, darlin’. Sorry, thought you were some riff raff that keeps spammin’ me.”

“What did Rufus do now?” you asked.

“He knows,” Bobby said. The surly edge to his voice made you smile in amusement.

“What’re you doing later? Up for a beer?”

“Usually I’d take you up on that, but I’ve got some people coming in pretty soon.”

You scoffed. “You have people? What people?”

“You’re not the only number in my cell, you know,” he said dryly.

“What, you mean Rufus?” you teased.

“All right, now you’re just runnin’ up my minutes,” he said. “If you really want that beer, you’re welcome to swing by, if you want. I’ve got a stocked fridge full of cold ones.”

You laughed, then you considered his offer. Did you really want to go home and deal with your dad (whenever he bothered to come home)?

“Well, I’m going to the cemetery first, but I could maybe swing by after,” you replied.

“Right, that’s today, ain’t it?” Bobby said. “Give your mom my respects.”

A more genuine smile grew on your lips. “Thanks. Will do.”

You hung up with him just as you got to the cemetery. It was hard not to feel melancholy here, especially in the winter. All the graves were lightly dusted with snow, and it felt like the world came to a quiet stillness here.

You bundled up with your scarf and gloves as you braced yourself for the cold, stepping out of the car. On your way in, you heard the rumble of a car going by. It was loud enough to make you turn your head and see a flash of black speeding away.

You shook your head. People drive like maniacs nowadays.

You were about to continue on your way towards your mom’s grave, when you finally heard it.

Say goodbyeee…never say goodbye-y-aaayy. Holdin’ on we gotta try, holdin’ on to never sayyy goodbyeee.~

Someone was warbling a Bon Jovi song in your mind, and it certainly wasn’t you.

But you did come to a dead stop in your path. Your eyes widened as shock claimed your heart and your brain. Soon enough though, your heart warmed as you became aware of something new. It was like a low hum at first, reverberating inside your chest.

You and me and my old friends, hopin’ it would neeever end. Say goodbye—

The singing continued, but all you could focus on was the thrumming in your skull, the thread of connection you could sense and feel inexplicably. You didn’t realize you were crying until you felt warmth trickling down your cold cheeks. Sniffling, you wiped your tears with the back of your hand and smiled tremulously.

You were finally feeling your soulmate.

Which meant, he was close by…and with that realization came an important question:

What the hell do I do now?

They were in South Dakota again.

Dean knew coming back here was…potentially dangerous. He hadn’t heard his soulmate’s thoughts in four years, since the last time he was in this state.

Truth be told, he hadn’t wanted to come here. After the last hunt though, he could use some R&R at Bobby’s for a couple of days.

This time Dean had his brother with him, albeit the circumstances weren’t…great. Their dad was missing, and Sam had lost his girlfriend in the process of trying to find him.

Sometimes, Dean really regretted going to find his brother at Stanford. Part of him thought, if he hadn’t hooked Sam into coming with him to try and find John, maybe Jessica Moore would still be alive.

A more selfish part of him (one he wouldn’t name) was glad to have Sam with him. Dean was actually having fun hunting with him. And maybe, Dean was having to get to know him again too.

“You think Bobby will have any intel on Dad?” Sam asked from the passenger seat of the Impala. They were about five minutes away from Singer Salvage, the old man’s tow business (and his house).

“Doubt it,” Dean replied, changing the radio station once Bon Jovi turned to REO Speedwagon. He could get down with some pop rock from Jovi, but REO was pushing it.

“Then why are we here?” Sam turned to him with a frown. “We just ganked a poltergeist in our old house and…we saw Mom. You think we should be wasting time right now?”

Dean’s lips pursed. Leaving their old house behind in Lawrence, Kansas was exactly why he needed a minute before jumping into the next case. As much as he wanted to find John, Dean just…he needed a minute to breathe.

Revisiting those old (painful) memories wasn’t easy for him. He wasn’t sure that Sam completely got that.

“Bobby’s got a stack of lore books to Kingdom Come. Who knows, he might have a way to help us find Dad,” he said.

Sam shot him an unimpressed look. “And if he doesn’t?”

Dean resisted the urge to roll his eyes. He got why Sam was so fired up. Really. The fact that the kid was having weird…premonition dreams about the near future was concerning. And he wanted to find the thing that killed Jess, that killed their mom, but this was clearly going to be a marathon. Not a sprint.

“In the meantime, we crack open a couple beers,” Dean said, “get one or two of free nights on actual beds, and then we’re on our way to the next gig. How’s that sound?”

Sam let out a sigh through his nose and faced the road ahead. They both knew he wasn’t happy. Dean couldn’t exactly blame him.

When they finally got to Bobby’s, the old man greeted them with a casual wave, beckoning them inside. He offered them the contents of his fridge—a few beers and a frozen lasagna defrosting in the fridge. Dean scoped it out while Sam dropped off his bag in the upstairs guest room.

“That for us?” Dean pointed to the lasagna with a grin. “Didn’t know we merited the red-carpet treatment.”

“’Cause it’s not just for you,” Bobby said dryly, then he hesitated. “...My niece might be swingin’ by later.”

Dean raised his brows in curiosity. “Didn’t know you had a niece.”

Or any family, for that matter. He knew the old man had a wife, once upon a time, but he assumed she’d passed away. No kids. Bobby had never talked about having an extended family. He didn’t have pictures on the walls, and the shelves only had books and locked boxes.

Bobby took a long sip of his beer after opening a bottle each for himself and Dean. He had one ready on the counter for Sam, who came into the kitchen looking tired. The kid hadn’t been sleeping well for the past few weeks, to say the least. Dean handed him the beer.

“I don’t see her much,” Bobby conceded.

“Why’s that?” Dean asked.

It took a moment for the other man to answer. Eventually, he was honest. “Well, she's grown. Going to school, got a job. But you could say I had a fallin’ out with her dad, a while back.”

“You have a brother?” Sam said.

“Brother-in-law,” Bobby corrected. He didn’t say anything more about it though. Sam and Dean shared a look that said they agreed: There’s something off there, but I’m not gonna pry.

“You still see her though?” Dean asked.

“Every now and then,” Bobby said, sipping at his beer again. “It’s a small town.”

That kind of pissed Dean off. Bobby was a good guy. He’d watched Sam and Dean a lot when they were kids, their dad on a hunt. He’d made sure they had decent food to eat, good movies to watch, and even played catch with Dean a time or two.

So what kind of assholes did Bobby have for family, that they couldn’t be bothered to check in on the old man every now and then? They must’ve been off living their lives, in their own little world. Must be nice.

Dean brought the bottle of Heineken to his lips, only to realize it was empty. Couldn’t have that, could we?

He went to the fridge and opened the cap, only to jump as the beer fizzed and leaked over his hands.

Damn it!

Bobby sighed. “And I just mopped the damn floor.”

“All right, Martha Stewart. Keep your slippers on,” Dean teased. “Sam, get me a paper towel.”

Bobby tried to get by him to get the mop, but beer was still dripping down Dean’s arm.

“Would you move to the sink, already?”

Sam finally cracked a small grin as Dean rolled his eyes. “Fine. Jesus. You’d think Miss America was comin’ into town.”

Damn it.

You heard him again. And this time, you could hear his voice, so you knew the thought belonged to a him. The voice was pleasantly deep, and annoyed. You actually felt his irritation and were able to recognize that the emotion didn’t belong to you.

Excitement bubbled in your throat, almost making it hard to breathe as you drove your car down the road. You had been too worked up to go see your mom, and technically you were supposed to head to your Uncle Bobby’s house, but this was too important.

You needed to figure out how to talk to him—your soulmate.

So you pulled over on the side of the road, and even turned the radio off. Okay, now what?

You didn’t know what you were supposed to do. They taught about this subject in school, sure, but that had been years ago! You’d spent the past six years filling your head with college and work and learning how to be an adult.

Okay, just breathe. You calmed down a bit with some deep breaths, and you closed your eyes. When you first heard your soulmate’s singing in your head, you remembered feeling warmth spread through your body, emanating from your chest. Then in your mind, you’d noticed a…a thread, of what could only be described as energy.

You felt it now. You could almost visualize it with your eyes closed. In your imagination, it was bright and beckoning. You focused on it, and it grew brighter, thrumming and soft.

You thought of what you wanted to say, and you tried it—sending your thoughts and your will through the connection.

Having a rough day?

Dean was still wiping beer off the floor in Bobby’s kitchen when he heard your voice ring through his mind.

Having a rough day?

His entire body tensed, and he paused with a ball of wet paper towel in his hand. Sam had taken the mop from Bobby and was about to finish off the floor, until he noticed Dean blanking.

“Dean?” he asked.

It shook Dean out of his shock, enough for him to look up at his brother. “Hmm?”

“What’s up? You were staring off into space.”

Dean feigned innocence. “Nothing.”

Sam’s brow rose, but he didn’t press the issue and went back to mopping. Dean took the opportunity to toss the wet paper towel in the garbage.

“I’m gonna hop in the shower,” he said, and made his swift exit to the bathroom upstairs, so quickly that he didn’t see Bobby watching Dean curiously from the living room.

“Don’t use up all the hot water!” Sam called after him.

Once again, Dean found himself locking the bathroom door and staring at himself in the mirror. His green eyes were conflicted as he tried to calm down. Maybe his heart was starting to beat a tick faster. Maybe a trickle of nervous sweat was making its way down his spine. Maybe he didn’t know what the hell to do.

His dad’s warning was still clear as a bell in his mind.

“Unless you’re prepared to hang up your gun, and stop hunting, don’t open that door.”

Dean knew why John had said it, and even agreed with him…at least, logically he did. His life was complicated, and insane, and bloody. How could he put someone else through what he went through? What he still went through every day? It wasn’t right.

But his chest was aching. He rubbed at it absently.

He could feel your worry again, he realized. You were anxious, probably waiting for him to respond. Dean could feel you. Having a rough day? you’d asked him.

So as usual, he made an impulsive choice.

You could say that, he carefully replied. He remembered the way your voice sounded, smooth and pleasant in his mind, and he couldn’t help smiling a little. But not for long, I’m thinkin’.

Your relief hit him in a slow, but powerful wave. It almost made him feel guilty for taking so long to answer.

Well, it’s not every day you hear someone else in your head. Maybe you’re going crazy.

She was teasing him. You were teasing him.

It brought an incredulous smile to Dean’s face. You’re one to talk. Maybe you’re just talkin’ to yourself right now.

Hmm. I don’t usually warble to Bon Jovi, but maybe you’re right.

A beat of surprise, another to remember what he and Sam had been listening to in the car earlier, and then embarrassment prickled at the back of his neck.

You heard that, huh? he asked wryly.

Maybe, you giggled. It was a cute sound, and it cut through some of his embarrassment. He wasn’t used to being put back a step by women. He was good at reading people’s body language, and usually it didn’t take him more than one look to figure out what a woman thought about him, and what they wanted to do with him.

So the fact that he couldn’t see you was a challenge. With that realization, a slow smile spread across his face. He was game for a challenge.

Well, I’m likin’ your voice so far, he said. Think I could get you to sing for me?

He felt you pause, a flutter of warmth through a tendril of shyness. I’ll leave the performing to you, Romeo.

Come on, it’s only fair.

Who said life is fair?

Dean sobered a bit at that. Ain’t that the truth.

Hmm, so you were having a rough day.

Make it a week, he said.

Yeah, I know the feeling…I wasn’t having a good day today either.

Dean sensed your melancholy and didn’t like the feeling. Well, now you’re talkin’ to me. So it should be smooth sailin’ from now on.

He could feel you brighten at that. It made warmth bloom once again inside his chest, especially because he sensed you were smiling—a bit shy, but genuine.

…What’s your name? he asked.

It took you a beat, but eventually you gave him your name. It wasn’t what he expected, but he liked it. Your name rolled through his thoughts, and he tested on his tongue.

What’s yours? you asked predictably. Somehow, Dean didn’t anticipate the follow-up.

Suddenly he realized exactly what he was doing: he was talking to you. (Something he’d told himself he wasn’t going to do.) Not to mention, he’d been locked in the bathroom for about ten minutes and hadn’t even showered yet. Pretty soon either Sam or Bobby was going to come knocking to see what the hell he was doing, so he might as well shower for real.

He answered you as he turned on the showerhead and started undressing. I’ll make a deal with you…if you can guess what I do for a living, I’ll come by and introduce myself in person.

Dean felt your shock, so he let you think as he stepped into the shower. Eventually you came back, annoyance coloring your emotions and your voice.

That’s stupid.

Dean smiled. Aw, come on. It’ll be fun.

For you!

Don’t you know, sometimes the best things in life come after some delayed gratification.

You paused for a moment, in which Dean didn’t know if you were in shock again, or just pissed. Maybe a combination of both.

Great, I got a comedian, you deadpanned. …You’re not a comedian, are you?

Sweetheart, I’m hilarious, Dean replied. But no. Good guess, though.

He sensed the equivalent of you rolling your eyes.

Just then, Sam knocked on the bathroom door.

“Hey, you better not use up all the hot water!”

“Twenty minutes of peace, Sammy. That’s all I ask,” Dean shot back. Sam made a sound of annoyance, but he went away, leaving Dean almost alone with his thoughts.

Look, I gotta go, he said regretfully. But I expect you to have some guesses cooked up by the time I get back from work.

You were still annoyed, but you begrudgingly agreed to his terms.

Fine. Just…don’t wander too far off. I can’t win the game if I can’t hear you.

Dean sensed your underlying worry, and your fear. You were afraid he was going to leave.

His heart softened. As a result, he ended up promising things he didn’t know if he meant.

Don’t worry. I’m not leaving town until you win, he said.

He felt your warm smile, along with your excitement.

Goodnight, sweetheart. We’ll talk soon.

Okay…goodnight.

He hung onto the feeling of your presence for a few seconds longer, before he let go of the connection. For now.

Dean caught himself smiling, but it quickly turned to a frown.

“Nobody should be waiting on men like us to come home bloody.”

When he once again remembered his dad’s warnings, that new warmth in his heart chilled, and it sunk like a stone. He leaned against the cool bathroom wall and pressed his forehead against the tile, while lukewarm water beat the side of his face and body.

Shit.

AN: Oh, Dean. What're we gonna do with you? lol

I hope you enjoyed Part 3! I promise they'll finally meet soon lol. What did you think of their first conversation?

To keep reading: Part 4

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rollinouttahere-writes · 2 years ago

Text

Lucky Break Prologue

Yandere Straw Hats x fem!Reader

5k words

I finally got this done, boy did it take longer than I had planned. I’ve worked hard on this and will continue to, so I hope everyone who takes the time to read this enjoys it! This fic is for the most part going to feature platonic yanderes, and the reader insert does use she/her pronouns.

There isn’t much One Piece stuff in this chapter, but there will be in the next.

When you’re a kid, everything seems so simple. You look around at the world around you and assume you know exactly how your life is going to go. After you finish high school, you’ll go to college and study for a major of your choosing. Immediately upon graduation, you’ll get a job in your desired field, and have a prosperous career to be proud of. Somewhere along the way, you’ll get married, maybe have some kids, and eventually enjoy a comfortable retirement where you will look back on your life with nothing but pride!

Yeah right. What a joke.

If provided with the opportunity to go back in time, you would kick your child-self’s ass for her naivety and optimism. How dare she foolishly get her own hopes up for a good and easy life.

Okay, so maybe you’re a little bitter, but who could blame you? Who isn’t disappointed with how at least one aspect of their life is going? It’s perfectly normal. Though, admittedly, for you it was wayyyy more than one aspect.

For starters, your job sucked. Not an uncommon complaint, but one that wore you down dramatically. Being a waitress was hell, but what could you do? You need money to live just like anyone else. Not that you were making much, not if the late fees were anything to go off.

You couldn’t get a better job because the more desirable jobs were all long since taken. Well, what few jobs you could apply for given the lack of a college degree. Oh yeah, you’re a college drop out. Much to the intense disappointment of your parents. They kicked you out when you told them and have hardly spoken to you since.

Seriously though, what did they want you to do? Keep going to school in hopes that you’ll magically figure out what you want to and go into horrible debt in the meantime? It’s easy to tell someone to keep going to college when you're not the one paying for it. You don’t understand how you’re the bad guy for not wanting to take your student loans to the grave.

It didn’t help that the friends you had have all slowly fallen out of contact with you since you moved away. You thought that maybe starting new somewhere else would be refreshing, foolishly not realizing how difficult making new friends as an adult is. You had some coworkers that you go along with well enough. They had even talked about meeting up outside of work to just hang out, but these plans never fully came to fruition thanks to conflicting schedules.

Whatever. Dwelling on it isn’t going to help you. You need to focus on the here and now.

Currently, you were on a bus, and not to go to work this time. No, you were going to indulge yourself tonight with a little urban exploration. Today’s target was a somewhat recently abandoned mall. It’s been closed for around a year now, long enough for retailers to take what they wanted and for cops to be beginning to lose interest in constantly patrolling it. It was still under surveillance, but nothing you didn’t know how to navigate.

You spent a couple weeks scoping out the place, a nearby cafe made it easy to do so without raising suspicion. There wasn’t any on site security to worry about, you just had to keep an eye out for the occasional cop car that would drive by. They only stopped to investigate if there was a car in the parking lot near the building. This wouldn’t be a problem for you given your lack of a personal vehicle.

The plan was straightforward. You’d already identified an entry point while poking around the building at night, an employee only door with a busted lock. It took a bit of elbow grease to jerk it open, but there wasn’t an alarm rigged to it, so it was perfect. All you needed to do was make sure no one spotted you as you went in, and you would be golden.

The bus was slowing to a stop, and it was your turn to get off. Shouldering your backpack, you scooted to the edge of the seat in preparation. As soon as it stopped, you were on your feet and hurrying to the door. The mall was only a couple blocks from here in a rapidly failing part of the city. The only businesses around there were the aforementioned cafe and a couple of thrift stores. Fortunately, your way in was facing away from those stores. As long as a cop wasn’t driving by as you snuck in, no one would see you.

As you made your way there, you could feel the excitement setting in. You didn’t have much in your life to look forward to, this was one of the few things that made you feel alive. The thrill of getting in and out without being caught was addictive if you were being completely honest with yourself.

There were other pros to it, too. Sometimes you got lucky and found something valuable that you could pawn. A forgotten piece of jewelry, a dropped phone, some abandoned tools, you never knew what you were going to find. Even if you didn’t find anything, it was fun to be able to explore an old building with no one around. It gave you this sense of adventure your life was otherwise devoid of.

Granted, there were risks. Cops being the biggest one. Having a criminal record sounded less than ideal to you. There was also the concern raised by the fact that you did this completely alone. If something went wrong and you got seriously hurt, no one would be likely to find out until it was too late. That, and the threat of encountering someone dangerous.

So far, you’ve gotten lucky, only ever personally running into a couple of other urban explorers that were fortunately perfectly nice. There had been a few other close calls, but you were able to avoid detection those times. Your mom used to harp on this, saying one of these days you would get killed or kidnapped while doing this. Maybe she was right, but you couldn’t say you cared that much.

At least you wouldn’t have to go to your next shift!

You shook your head at the depressing thought. It’s not good to think that way, even if it was how you felt.

The mall was just ahead now, you looked around the parking lot for any indicators that anyone else was here. Nothing. It was completely empty. Good. Despite your excitement, you keep your pace casual, not wanting to attract attention.

Taking a cursory glance around, you don’t see any cop cars on patrol. You’re officially out of sight of the nearby businesses, so you shift into a power walk, wanting to get inside quickly while no one is around. You put on some disposable gloves and also pull a facemask out of your pocket and fasten it onto your face. Partially in case the air is bad, but also to protect yourself in case there are any security cameras.

The door takes a good few pulls to open up, but that’s fine. You do one more look around, and upon seeing nothing, you go in. The second the door shuts, you’re thrown into darkness. You fish a flashlight out of your backpack and click it on. It became immediately apparent that you were not the first person to discover this way in, the walls were already covered in graffiti. That and there were some heroin needles on the ground. You know, the usual signs of life.

You carefully make your way down the hall, trying to make your way into the main part of the mall. The air was musky, the smell easily cutting through your mask. It was far from pleasant, but you’ve smelled worse. At least you weren’t smelling any shit (yet).

The door at the end of the hall was easier to open than the last, no resistance at all. You peek out, looking for anything concerning before stepping out. There was natural light coming in from some sliding glass doors nearby. Looks like this place used to be a Macy’s or something like that. Lingering near the glass doors wouldn’t be a good idea, so you hurry off away from it. Once you’re in the main part of the mall you shouldn’t have to worry about being spotted from the outside.

The former maybe-macy’s was picked clean, they didn’t leave anything behind besides the counters and some flyers advertising a long since past sale. No shelves, no mannequins that would give you a heart attack if you saw them out of the corner of your eye, nothing.

Outlets in malls were typically very thorough when cleaning out after closing, you doubt you’ll find anything valuable here unless some other explorer left something behind. Oh well. You do this more for the experience than anything.

You found the way out pretty quick and took in the sight of the abandoned mall. Even after being closed for a year, it still had a certain beauty to it. The research you did on the mall told you it was built in the early 70’s and the architecture reflected it. The ceiling had a quirky pattern to it, with blocks of it being solid and other blocks being glass to let natural light in.

There was also an artsy metal structure that climbed all the way up to the second floor, and a big water fountain that acted as the centerpiece. Granted, all of this was decorated with a layer of broken glass from the shattered guardrails on the second floor, but still. This kind of decor was rare to see in modern malls, with all of them wanting to be as plain as possible. This was a pleasant change of scenery.

You meandered through the open space, glass crunching under your boots with each step. The escalators were right ahead of you. Like the guardrails, the glass on was also shattered, but that didn’t matter. As long as the stairs were in one piece, you could still climb them.

You had a specific destination in mind for your visit here. Yes, you would like to see every nook and cranny, but the movie theater was especially exciting. You’ve never been in an abandoned theater before, so you were dying to see it and made a beeline for it.

It was damn near on the opposite side of the building, but that just gave you a chance to see what other places you could check out later. While many people find places like this unsettling at best, you found an odd sense of comfort in it. Part of it was the silence. Provided no one else rocked up, the noisiest thing you would hear would be some birds flying through.

There was also the nostalgia of being in a mall and seeing the familiar, albeit vacated, stores you remember from your childhood. Malls simply aren’t what they used to be, and it’s nice to reminisce on what once was. Sure, it’s not like you could afford to shop at one, but just being able to walk around and window shop was enjoyable. At least you could still do the walking around part even when they’re closed.

As you make your way down the second story walkway, you take note of all the signs of life around you. Lots of spiders have set up shop with massive webs in every corner to make meals of the local insect population. Nests were crammed into the spaces in between letters on the remaining signs, and although you haven’t seen any, there are enough droppings here to indicate the presence of a thriving rodent society. That means there’s probably some stray cats lurking around here, too. You hope you get to see one. There’s a laser pointer on your keyring and some treats in your pockets just for such occasions.

You look up and are thrilled to finally be at the theater. There are blank rectangles on the wall from where movie posters used to be. The sign that used to display movies and showtimes now simply says closed. Well, technically it says ‘CL S D’, but you got the drift.

The lobby is surprisingly intact. The ticket and snack counters are both still here, even the glass around the ticket counter was unbroken. Some of the old snack machines still remained, which surprised you. It was faint, but you think you could still pick up on the smell of popcorn. It could also just be a placebo effect but shh.

You hop over the snack counter to see what’s back there. The first thing you notice is how sticky the floor is, your boots sticking with each step. The remaining machines are in rough shape, but that’s to be expected. The nozzle on one of the slushie machines was snapped clean off, and the doors on the popcorn machine were just gone. You meticulously opened all the drawers and cabinets, hoping to find something interesting. You didn’t. Just some garbage and rat shit.

Moving on, you head towards the really exciting part. The showing rooms. You can’t help but pick up the pace as you run into one, only to feel a touch disappointed. It was completely gutted. The screen, the chairs, nothing was left. Who the hell even wanted a bunch of old ass movie theater seats? Where did they go?

There was a problem though, the area near where the screen would be was completely flooded. You shine your light up to the ceiling and are baffled that there’s no hole for this much water to leak through. Where the hell did it all come from? It also smelled weirdly fishy? The fish smell was so potent that it almost distracted you from all the mold on the fabric covered walls. Yikes. “N95 mask don’t fail me now,” you mumbled under your breath.

Whatever. Spinning on your heels, you head for the stairs to go to the top of the room. They’re creaky and the carpet is coming off of them in bits and pieces.

There really wasn’t much of a reason to come up here beyond it just felt like the right thing to do. You decide to peek through the window to the projection room. Surprisingly, it’s very cluttered in there, it almost looks like a storage room. Oh, you’re definitely going to have to go in there!

… But how?

Now that you’re thinking about it, how do you even get inside one of these? It must be behind some sort of staff only door. You hope it’s not locked, there was a lot of stuff in there.

You rush down the stairs, ecstatic at what a good find this was. Once you’re in the hallway, you whip your head around to locate any possible entrance, and you find it. A plain, unmarked door between two of the theater rooms. Bingo. You twist the knob, but it doesn’t budge.

Not bingo.

It’s unlikely that the keys for this door are still here… but you can’t just let this go. After testing the fortitude of the door with a few kicks and yanks, you resolve to look for the key despite the low odds of actually finding it.

The most likely place it would be would be a main office or something. You head back to the lobby, that’s probably where the door to one would be. The beam of your flashlight flits over the surrounding walls in search of a side door.

Some fallen ceiling tiles and wires almost hid it from you, but there it was. You pick up what looks like a snapped off broom handle and use it to push the debris out of the way and keep the wires off you while you try the door, praying that this won’t also be locked.

It doesn’t turn. Dammit! Out of sheer frustration, you give it a violent shake. It snaps clean off, the knob from the other side loudly clattering to the ground. Looks like your luck is coming back around.

The door still takes a bit of rattling to shake loose the remaining bits of the old locking mechanism, but it finally creaked open. Wasting no time, you hurried in, observing the new area. While it was dirty, it was untouched by graffiti and general vandalism. It’s a simple long hallway with two doors. You get to the first and open it up, greeted by the sight of an old bathroom.

The mirror above the sink doubles as a medicine cabinet, so you decide to check it out. When you pull it open, the whole door comes right off. Oops. The cabinet in question didn’t have anything interesting in it, only being occupied by a bottle of tums, some nail clippers, and a box of dental floss. Thrilling stuff.

You move on and head for the other door. Surely that has to be the office. The door clicks open again, thank god. You grin to yourself, it is the office. The desk is right in front of you and in good shape, not appearing to have been tampered with this past year. Excellent.

It’s surprisingly clean in here. There is some dust, but not nearly as much as you would have expected. The desk itself is old and made of wood. It honestly looks way too nice to have been left here. The chair is, weirdly enough, not present. What, that was worthy of being taken but not the desk? Whatever. It’s not important.

You’re quick to start rifling through the drawers. Paperwork, pack of gum, more paperwork, some pens, a few paperclips, even more paperwork… it’s not looking good. Your heart is sinking with each passing second. You squat and look under the desk as a last ditch effort. Your light reflects off something. Keys!

There’s a strip of tape attached to them, like someone had taped them to the underside of the desk rather than using one of the drawers. An odd decision, but who cares? These might be the keys you need!

Not wanting to waste any more time, you run back to the possible projector room door. The key ring has several keys on it, so there’s a bit of trial and error to go through in your attempts to unlock it. Your heart rate steadily picks up as you go through each key with no success. It’s not until the second to last key that you finally hear that much anticipated ‘click’.

The door is surprisingly heavy, you really have to pull to get it open enough to slip through. It loudly slams shut behind you and you’re met with the sight of two staircases. The room you saw through the window should be on the right.

The stairs are carpeted but not as worn as the ones in the theater, making them less of a tripping hazard. Dust is being kicked up with each step, you can see clouds of it flying through the air and clinging to cobwebs.

Now you’re at the top and there’s another door. This one wasn’t locked. The room itself honestly resembles a boiler room to you. Pipes and cables were running along the walls, and the walls weren’t painted. There was a table in front of the window where the projector would have been.

That’s not what made you want to see this room though. Shelves were along every wall and they were loaded. You’re gonna need both hands for this. Luckily, you have a lantern type of flashlight in your backpack just for situations like this. You fish it out, click it on, and set it on the projector table before turning back to the shelves.

There were lots of boxes, so you grab the nearest one and bring it over to the table to go through it. It’s full of what you think are spare parts for a projector, though you don’t know enough about this stuff to be sure.

The next box has some old broken lenses. Then one with tools. You even found some film, but it seemed blank. You held it up to the light and saw absolutely nothing. You suppose it makes sense for all these things to be in here, but you can’t help but wish there was something more exciting.

You pull down another box, this one from the top shelf and open it expecting to see glass cleaner or something like that, but instead you find another, smaller box. You pull it out, and it looks like a jewelry box. There’s an image on the top of it: a skull and crossbones that’s biting what looks like a wand. Interesting. It kinda looks like something you would see on a pirate flag. What were those called again? Jolly Rogers? Yeah, that sounds right.

You give it a little shake and hear something clatter inside it. Trying to open it, however, is fruitless. It’s locked. All the keys you got earlier are way too big to fit the hole, but you think it should be easy enough to break open yourself at home.

A genuine smile spreads across your face, you found something cool this time! The jewelry box goes into your backpack, and you’re about to resume your search when you hear something. It sounds like voices in the hall.

Quickly, but quietly, you snatch your lantern to turn it off and creep down the stairs and towards the door to try and listen better. There are two sets of footsteps but only one voice.

“-nd today WE are doing an overnight challenge in a haunted abandoned mall!”

You cringe. Oh great. Youtubers. Liars too based off that comment about the mall being haunted. In all the research you did on this place, you never saw so much as one ghost sighting.

Huffing out a sigh, you know that your fun is going to be cut short. There’s no telling whether or not these idiots parked right by the front door. You need to get out before cops show up. That, and you don’t want to accidentally end up in one of their videos. You can practically see the title now: “REAL ghost sighting at ABANDONED mall??? SCARY!!! (NOT CLICKBAIT)”

No thank you.

Lucky for you, you’ve already got a nice find, so at least you’re not leaving empty handed. You wait until they go into one of the theaters to leave the room, carefully easing the door open and closed. After a moment of thought, you lock it, too. You want this to be untouched when you come back. Naturally, this means you’re taking the keys with you. They can’t be that important to anyone if they got left behind like this.

Your escape from the mall and trip back home was uneventful for the most part. You were able to leave unnoticed and before cops got there. The youtubers did, indeed, park at the front door, so it was only a matter of time.

The apartment complex you lived in was kinda run down, but overall not that bad. Sure, it was dingy and the bathroom had a mold problem, but it kept you warm and dry so things could be worse.

After entering your apartment, you immediately lock your door behind you. No sense leaving it unlocked and letting some creep in. With that taken care of, you drop your backpack by the couch and go to grab some tools.

You unceremoniously plop yourself onto the couch and toss a screwdriver and hammer onto the coffee table. You bring out the old jewelry box and really look at it now that you’re in a properly lit room. The dust was really caked on, prompting you to use your sleeve to wipe away the bulk of it.

The picture was very detailed. The skull and crossbones were painted beautifully, even the small wand looked lovely. The box was wooden, expertly varnished. You already feel bad that you’re going to have to break this open. Hopefully you’ll be able to keep the damage to a minimum, that way you can use it for yourself after this.

Experimentally, you try to pull it open again. It does have some give to it, but not enough to actually get it open. You grab the screwdriver and wedge it into the sliver of space between the lid and the box. You try and pry it open. It creaks a little, opens up slightly more, but stops short. Okay, time for the big guns.

Using your feet to hold either side of it in place, you grab the hammer, aim, and bring it down on the screwdriver handle. You hear a crack, but it’s still closed. You raise your arm and bring it down again, harder this time.

CRACK

Both the plastic screwdriver handle and the lock shatter from the force of the blow. You discard the hammer onto the floor next to the bits of handle and throw open the box.

There’s only two things in there. A rolled up piece of paper, and a necklace. The pendant on the necklace sports the same image as the top of the jewelry box over a bronze lattice patterned circle. You gingerly pick it up. It’s thin and feels brittle, like you could snap it in half without much force. What’s the point of a necklace being this fragile?

You set it back down gently and pick up the paper. It’s almost as bad as the necklace, it looks very old and is crumbling around the edges. Slowly, you unfurl it and see there’s a message scrawled onto it with red ink.

“Congratulations on your lucky find

I wonder what desire you have in mind

Close your eyes, make a wish, and break the pendant in two

Whatever you want most will come to you”

An eyebrow quirks up and the strange rhyme. What, was this left by a genie? You sigh, and here you thought you might get something valuable out of this.

Still… What would it hurt to play along for a second?

You grab the pendant again and examine it while you mull over what to wish for. Money? Nah. Money can be earned, however difficult it may be. If you’re gonna be using some sort of (allegedly) all powerful magic necklace, it should be something more unobtainable. What do you really want?

If you’re completely honest with yourself, you hate where you are in life right now. The monotony, the loneliness, everything. You need a new start. A new start with some new friends. Friends that actually give a shit about you. Anyone that loves you for you. Yeah, that sounds good.

Leaning back, you close your eyes and make your wish. You’re not sure you need to say it out loud, but do anyway, “I wish to have a fresh start somewhere new. A place with adventure where I can be loved.”

The pendant snaps in half easily. You hold your breath and wait. Nothing. You crack an eye open. You’re still in your same old apartment. Of course you are. Why did you think that would work? How childish.

Even though you expected this, you can’t help the wave of bitterness that washes over you. Angrily, you stuff the broken pendant into your pocket and grab your backpack. You stand up to go put this shit away, but…

You fall through the floor.

The floor didn’t break, it’s like it just ceased to exist. As you fall, everything goes black, and there isn’t a sound to be heard besides your own screaming. What’s happening? What’s going on? Shit, was that stupid thing really magical??? Was it fucking cursed???

Trying not to panic wasn’t even being considered, how could anyone not freak out from this? So here you are, screaming and crying while holding onto your backpack for dear life as if it’s going to help you right now.

Suddenly, you can see light coming from underneath you. You’re torn between being relieved to see light and being terrified that you’re about to splatter onto the ground. A wave of warmth hits you, carrying the smell of sea water. You realize that the ‘ground’ beneath you is actually a huge body of water.

And then you’re in it.

There wasn’t enough time to prepare for the sudden immersion. Water flooded into your open mouth and you scrambled and flailed in an attempt to get to the surface. As you break the surface, you’re coughing and hacking the salty water out of your lungs. You weren’t anywhere near the ocean, how are you suddenly fighting for your life in one?

You whip your head around and are horrified to see absolutely nothing, No land or ships in sight. Oh my god. You’re going to die out here.

“HEEYYY! ARE YOU ALRIGHT?”

You attempt to spin around to identify your potential savior, but a wave hits you, knocking you under the water again. Dammit, no! Not like this!

Miraculously, you get back to the surface again, and the second you do, something grabs onto your shoulder and pulls. And pulls. And keeps pulling. You went from almost drowning to feeling like you’re flying over the surface of the ocean. In an attempt to feel some semblance of security, you grab onto whatever is holding you.

It… it feels like a hand??? No, that doesn’t make sense, who could be pulling you along like this with their hand???

“Luffy, you need to slow down! You’re pulling her in too fast!”

You try to look over your shoulder to see what the hell is going on, and through your hair you think you can make out what looks like two people on a small boat. The boat is already very close and rapidly getting closer. Way too close!

THWACK

And everything goes dark again.

#one piece #yandere one piece #one piece x reader #one piece x you #one piece x y/n #one piece reader insert #yandere #platonic yandere #monkey d luffy #zoro roronoa #this prologue got so out of hand it was only supposed to be like 1k words i don't know what happened #lucky break

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txtmetonight · 1 year ago

Text

Ms. (?)

call summary ⋆ ★ you and yeonjun since high school have had major rivalry. now you two are teachers at the same school, and your fiery bond hasn’t broken yet. but the other teachers and students make you guys the hottest ship in school. so…what’s next?

pairings *. * yeonjun x fem! reader

genre ⋆ ★ fluff, enemies to lovers (?) dunno its a little complicated, coworkers to lovers (?) again confusing...you'll see once you finish it, oneshot

warnings *. * a bit of cursing (just a pinch) :/, alcohol, a tinge of insults, bad grammar (english isn't my first language 💀 and Grammarly sucks)

featuring ⋆ ★ chaewon, taehyun, felix

call duration *. * 3.4K

It was no big secret to the whole school about the immense tension between the sweet 10th-grade Math and Science teacher and the handsome music professor that almost every high schooler (whether you were a girl or not) drooled over. You and Mr. Choi's (aka Yeonjun) relationship with each other were rather tense and complicated. You’ve known Yeonjun ever since he overtook your place in the spelling bee in High school, spelling ubiquitous right, and ending it with a humongous, ludicrous, smirk sent towards your face. And once you graduated High school with high credits that got you into a prestigious college to receive your bachelor's degree, you thought that you would never see his stupid face again. But imagine your surprise when the same face you’ve hated for years walked through the building doors, ready to greet you in front of your new classroom, the same smug smile on his face.

“You’ve worked in this school for four years, yet you still don’t know how to properly use the printer, do you even qualify as a teacher Mrs. (L/n)?” You grit your teeth in annoyance, instead focusing on the papers that spit your worksheets for your lovely kids. “No comment?” Yeonjun jokes, pushing around you to grab his own stack of papers, yet furrowing his eyebrows once he notices that the papers he printed out were filled blank. No ink or anything, just plain white copy papers looking like they came straight from out of a newly opened pack. “Um” He tries to turn his body so you wouldn’t notice his stupid mistake but you catch on right away loudly snickering. “I think you forgot to press the side button, again” You grab your papers swiftly before quickly sticking your tongue out once his back was turned and rushing out as fast as possible towards your classroom. Composing yourself, you stick your head into your room to watch Ms. Kim who was playing hangman with your class.

“Nope, there’s no- oops your teacher’s back” She stays seated in your chair, completing the word she was thinking about while you stride towards your desk, the class filled with groans and gasps once the expo marker marks the last letter, spelling out your first name. You notice but don’t bother as Chaewon snickers, getting up so you could whisper your gratefulness in her ear. “Thank you, god, I already feel a headache coming on” you whine all while she understandingly pats you back before a devilish smile comes upon her cunning face. “Was it because of Yeonjun…you know I saw him hurriedly running after you while you were walking towards the printer room”. You sigh and instead glare at her giggling figure, you’d prefer not to feed into her mindless delusions. She takes the hint and opts to stride out of the classroom, of course not before butting her head back in for a final goodbye “Alright then, don’t give your teacher a hard time” Chaewon finally leaves with a flourish and you could probably guess where she was heading next, ready to prey on her next cup of coffee. Which leaves you to turn back to your kids to teach.

“So who’s ready for more Quadratic Functions” you smile (still stuck on your friend’s comment earlier about Yeonjun following you), and the class breaks out in another round of cries, some even begging you to not pass out those papers in your hands.

______________________________________________________________

“Ms. (L/n)?”

You turn around to face another of your co-worker, who taught the 9th graders, just a hall over, though it was quite surprising to see him in the breakroom. “Mr. Lee, how may I help you?” you ask, politely smiling at the man who flashes a cheerful grin. “You know, it’s ok to call me Felix…I’m pretty sure you call Mr. Choi, Yeonjun, right?” The mood was a little awkward as you shuffled around quietly nodding a brisk okay and sorry, before he brushed it off with a loud chuckle. “Your classroom?”. You were hoping that you actually reminded him about his own kids to teach since he was spending so much unnecessary time with you, secretly wishing that he could leave you alone so you could eat your lunch. “We have a guest speaker who told me she could take over everything and that she was going to be fine on her own”. By now you were practically rolling on the heels of your feet, praying for any distraction of some sort. And it seems your quick prayers may have been answered because in came Choi Yeonjun with his own bento, confusedly staring at you and Felix then noticing the big empty and supposedly the best spot in the whole break room, which you were gonna sit in.

This idiot better not.

You clench your hands, watching the arrogant man take your place before being brought back to reality by a small cough, totally forgetting that Felix was in front of you. “Um so…I was wondering if you could- or wanted to eat dinner with me tomorrow, of course, no problem if not” He looks at your wide eyes while trying to gulp his nervousness away. “A date?” you point towards yourself, both you and Felix unaware of the angry eyes watching you two. Yeonjun looked like a ripe tomato that was gonna explode. The blonde in front of you sucks through his teeth, letting out a small exhale. “Yep” Ok now, Yeonjun was furious and one half of him wanted to confront and stop the interaction and the other wanted to stay put and see what you would do. So he decides the latter, beginning to forget his lunch and instead spreading his legs to lean back on the couch, staring intently. “You’re a great man, but I don’t think I’m the one for you” You somehow get your words out, carefully picking them as they slip out of your tongue. “How can you be so sure about the future, when you’ve never ever even gone on a date with me before” You swallow hard, senses running all over the place, and his pitiful face definitely didn’t help. “I’m already dating someone” Your whisper was loud enough for Yeonjun to hear, making him sit upright eyebrows raised.

This was new.

Felix looks taken aback, mouth pouting in shock. “Is that so? you should’ve told me the first time, then I wouldn’t have bothered you anymore” He bows down, ashamed of his actions. “Oh no, you’ve done nothing wrong, but please don’t tell this to anyone” Smiling he nods embarrassedly before gesturing that he was gonna stay quiet. “Have a great day!” he sheepishly skips out of the classroom and you continue waving, keeping the simple grin, it falling down right as his body was out of sight.

“You’re dating someone?”

Shit

You forgot that Yeonjun was in the room with you guys, tuning into your guy’s conversation. “Were you eavesdropping on us?” You already knew the answer. “It’s not eavesdropping if it was loud enough for me to hear, so are you actually dating someone?” He finally spoons a piece of his chicken in his mouth, though it was a bit weird that he actually started eating after you took your first bite out of your pizza from last night. Tired of his antics you decide to play along a little, nodding and smiling a little, a loud gasp led out by the male who was surprised by your confession. “Is he cute, or even good enough for you?” Yeonjun grumbles. You glance towards him with a huge grin “Yep he’s perfect…but don’t tell anyone though, keep it a secret between the both of us and I guess Mr. Lee” He continues to stare at you before turning back towards his meal, ears hinted with a tinge of red. The rest of the 15 minutes was quiet, except for a few bickers on the best sauce to go on a salad and the worst football team. It was almost the end of the period where you were finishing up your drink, smiling against the straw while your eyes peered at Yeonjun as he kept defending his point that when he was so into the discussion, his lidded eyes gaze at you, practically sending you into a cardiac arrest, leading you to accidentally swallow the drink through the wrong hole.

And after Yeonjun notices he blanks out, panicking along with you. “Oh my god, are you okay!?” ‘Does it look like I’m okay’ you try to rasp but instead, you cough even more. He goes to kneel down next to you on the couch, slowly rubbing in circles into your back to calm you down and it works! Instead of full-on choking, you were left with little splutters in your throat. “Here drink some water, and try not to choke again” he grins, handing you his water bottle which you gratefully take. Taking your fill of water, you notice the close proximity between you and Yeonjun, and you could feel the red slithering up your back and neck while you turn towards him to give him your thanks. “Thank you” God your noses were basically touching, and at school too! You’ve never been this close in your guys’ workplace so it sent a shiver of butterflies down your spine. “You're welcome” He breaths and right when he looked like he was coming closer the bell rang sending you two flying apart.

“Oh, Mr. Choi and Ms. (L/n)!” Both pairs of eyes shoot towards the unexpected intruder and you relax once you notice that it was Chaewon, her red lips tugged at the corners. “Ms. Kim '' Yeonjun immediately gets up to bow and you quickly follow, a little flustered about how your friends caught you and your coworker so close together. “I’ll take my leave, my 4th-period students are probably at my door…Mrs. (L/n), you didn’t forget about the staff meeting after school right?” He lifts his eyebrows at your gasp, entertained while watching you dive for your phone and open up your calendar. And there it was, your little reminder on how you were scheduled to overtime and drive all the way home and then back to a bar so you could catch up with your other workmates, all arranged by the principal. You take a look at Chaewon who also pulled her phone out, shrugging once she met your gaze before erupting in a small laugh. “Of course, you forgot, I thought Math and Science teachers were supposed to be smart, I guess not” He looks you up and down, letting out his squeaky laughs as he grabs his water bottle and bento, your face was frozen in shock and offense. “Bye Mrs. (L/n), Ms. Kim” He bows once more towards Chaewon and spares you a look before walking away.

“The fucking nerve of that guy, you saw him!” She hurries towards you, slapping her hand over your mouth, not letting you speak another word. You look at her, a little startled as she pats your cheek gently. “Don’t get too ahead of yourself, you need to go back to class Ms. (L/n)” She still holds your cheeks, her other hand moving your chin up and down to nod at her words. Her hands give you back your lunchbox, pushing you out of the room. “Your kids must be waiting for you, go back before they scribble something on the board again” She waves a goodbye while you cringe, agreeing with her, leading you to fast walk back to your classroom. The last time you were late to your class, the whiteboard was filled with little doodles of you and Yeonjun, each picture demonstrating romantic actions, and they had their own little actions too. The kids knew very much about the cute (in your words revolting) atmosphere that you two teachers had. And they took advantage of it. Some of the lockers were filled with small drawings of yours and his initials in a heart. Yeonjun once even got a love note that had your name on it, which he still teases you about to this day. The birth of a ship name of you two was even made and is still stuck on a water fountain in the 11th-grade hallway. But by the time you got to your classroom, you knew you were too late. The board was already filled to the brim.

______________________________________________________________

The bar was packed with customers and through the window you tried to spy your own group, which wasn’t too hard to find. All you had to look for was a shiny bald head that belonged to your boss. Almost everyone was there already, including Chaewon who looked like she was going to die from boredom. “You’re not going in?” You turn around to face Yeonjun who was pocketing his keys. You smirk, “Nope, was waiting for you, ladies first” He rolls his eyes playfully, yet taking your offer to lead the both of you into the bar. “Haha you're so funny” You follow him through the door which you held for him, awkwardly standing next to him, watching your group. “I know”. Waving back at Chaewon, Yeonjun and you stride towards the table. “Oh my, Yeonjun and (Y/n), you’re here, we thought you’d never come” The principal slurs his words, all while checking you up and down which you grimace in disgust. “Come here (Y/n), sit next to me” Mr Park lazily smiles, pointing to the empty spot next to him (which was forcefully cleared by him). You try to refuse but before you could get a word out, Yeonjun had already sat there. “Yeonjun?!” The man exclaims, ready to scold him out. “Sorry sir, but I’m deathly allergic to shrimp and rather not sit there” Yeonjun responds, slightly dipping his head in respect. The only open seat had fried spicy shrimp next to it. “Oh is that so, that’s fine I guess” Mr Park, slumps his cheek onto his palm, staring at you take the seat across from Yeonjun and next to Chaewon who hugs you excitedly. You knew that Yeonjun was lying and for a fact was definitely not allergic to any types of seafood, but you were extremely thankful.

“Here Yeonjun, drink” Mr. Kang pushes him a glass, but Yeonjun refuses. “I’m not drinking tonight, I have to drive back home”. Taehyun nods before turning to you, offering a drink, and you accept the glass, the bright boy (Currently a student teacher) pouring you the liquid. Conversations rise and die down but there was a lot of chattering at your table. As the night progressed so did your face, turning red and red from the amount of alcohol you were downing. Everything around seemed blank and normal until Mr. Park brought up a futile question. “I’ve noticed that Yeonjun and (Y/n) always go home together and always arrive at the same time in the morning, has anyone noticed that?”. You and Yeonjun stop breathing in shock, even more, stupefied at the murmurs of agreement that arise from your co-workers. “W-we just have the same routes, that’s all” Yeonjun stutters, his black hair sticking to his face, chewing on his lips nervously.

“(Y/n)?” Chaewon shakes you out of your ogle towards Yeonjun, who was staring back at you too, eyes flitting the entirety of your flushed face. “Yeah, he’s right, in fact, me and Yeonjun have a bus to catch, we should go”. You try to stand up but the drinks coursing through your veins makes you stumble, the world around you spinning. “I thought Yeonjun was driving? He could stay a little longer” A 9th-grade teacher pipes up, a lovesick look on her face as she looks at the man. Though instead of reciprocating her look and lightly clears up his throat before sending a formal smile towards everyone. “I have to wake up early in the morning tomorrow, it’d be better to go now”. Usually, no one would believe that very obvious lie but they let it slide, their minds under the influence of alcohol. Yeonjun walks towards your side, laughing at your attempts at walking, and swinging his arm over your shoulder to help you. Sure everyone knew that Yeonjun hated your guts but he wasn’t that heartless. After a string of goodbyes, you both slowly slump out of the building, you sighing at the fresh air. Yeonjun titters softly at your swaying before looking back to make sure no one was behind him.

“Aww is my baby tired?” You whine into his side, comforted by his large presence, his cologne making you sleepy. “Shut uppp”. Yeonjun couldn’t blame your fatigued figure, it was certainly tiring keeping your marriage a secret. Once you two were far away (and when he couldn’t watch you struggle anymore) his hands slither down to your thighs and in a blink of an eye you find yourself dangling in a pair of strong arms. “Jun what are you-” You’re cut off to a sweet kiss and you happily take it, leaning more into his mouth, wanting to feel him more but he cuts you off from your need, instead landing you onto your feet so you could get into his car. His hands gently move the pieces of hair that stick on your face, eyes glazed with something so pure that it made you want to melt into the seat below you. He spots your squirming, turning his hand so the back of it, laid on your cheek. “Do you need to throw up?I brought plastic bags?” You smile against his cold hands, shaking a no. The silence felt comfortable, as Yeonjun decided to crouch by your seat still out of the car, still observing you with a delicate look, and his soft lips pouting at how stunning you looked. “Stop staring at me like that” You whisper, taking his other hand in yours.

“Baby you’re the smartest woman I know, I didn’t mean what I said today at school” He snuggles into your cheek apologetically. It’s been gnawing at him all day after he said that, feeling extremely guilty even though you knew he meant it as a joke. “I don’t mean anything I say that’s rude, I swear” He continues on, giggling with you as he burrows his nose deeper, lips puckered to leave a trail of gentle kisses. “I know Junnie, I don’t mean anything like that either”. You slowly turn your face, capturing his lips in another kiss, noses brushing with each other as his touch feels scalding hot against your skin. “I really wish you could use my last name at school” He sulks. “Me too, love” You pet his hair, threading your fingers in it, forcing him to release his (fake) glower. “Come on, let's go home” He leaves one last smooch on your nose before groaning while getting up, stretching his limbs. You reach over in the glove compartment to grab your rings, and when he gets in the car, you grab his hand to slide his on, his own fingers scrambling to slip your own ring on your hand. At last, he starts the car, and the rumbling engine almost lulls you to sleep. “You could sleep if you want, I can tuck you into bed” He looks down at your jelly figure against the leather seats. “No I want to sleep with you” He bops his head softly at you, starting to softly hum a song. But alas your eyelids felt droopy and heavy like a dozen rocks sat upon them, so you decide to close them for a second, and the last thing you heard was a little muffled but in enough volume to where it sent blood rushing around your body.

“I love you, Mrs. Choi”

Bonus:

Chaewon walked out of the building a little after her best friend and coworker left. She wasn’t going to deal without Mr. Park’s nonsense any longer. But as she walked farther and farther she noticed a young couple, the boy carrying his girl. “I swear to god, I’m going to sleep on the highway” she groans, walking faster to her destination so she could call for a taxi. Her eyes glance towards the girl, which looked like (Y/n), and the boy that twinned with Yeonjun. But that’s impossible, Yeonjun carrying (Y/n) would happen when pigs could fly. Maybe she drank a little too much.

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*sooo how was it? Sorry this is my first one-shot, hopefully, they'll be better and longer ones in the future :) Ask me to be added to my permanent tag list.

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liahswriting · 8 months ago

Text

Once Upon a Dream

Relationship(s): Bucky Barnes/Original Female Character

Words: 5,677

Warnings: None

Summary: Sort of a soulmate-AU in which soulmates dream of each other before meeting. Bucky is convinced she's not real, but dreams of her anyway no matter how many times Hydra tries to wipe her from his mind.

Bucky's first memory of her feels like forever ago. He can't remember how old he was exactly, he just knows he had been going through puberty because it was then he started liking girls. There was one girl he went to school with who he thought was really pretty. And after puberty, he started dating. He had asked this girl out and she happily said yes. Of course, being the age that they were, there wasn't much they could actually do. He had taken her to a nearby fair and they had a good time. He remembers being limited on money so he resorted to sneaking and charming his way into some free food and games. This may or may not have gotten him into some trouble, but either way the night ended with a blast and he was already promising this girl a second date.

He walked her home like the young gentleman he was. Then he made his way back to his home. It was late. Only his mother had stayed awake, waiting for his arrival -his father already fast asleep for an early morning job. Once Bucky was safe and sound at home, the family had bid a goodnight and Bucky was off to bed. Then he had his first dream of her.

She was another pretty girl. Around his age. A perfect match to his energy. In his dream, the two of them had snuck and charmed their way through town as they found numerous ways of entertaining themselves. In his dream, they seemed to be the perfect pair. Just two kids being kids, never having to guess what the other was thinking. They finished each other's sentences, understood each other's jokes, had a love for the same things.

Bucky woke the next morning still thinking about her. A smile had been on his face for most of the day, and everyone questioned what had him so happy. He never figured out what to respond with, so he always just said 'it's nothing'. At first, he didn't assume much from the dream. He had heard the wives tale of soulmates dreaming of each other, seeing the world through each other's eyes and watching them live their life until they were destined to meet, but this wasn't the first time he's dreamed of someone. He can count on both hands the amount of times an unknown person appeared in his dream. And he hadn't dreamed of that girl after that either. So he completely forgot about it and carried on with life, until he dreamed of her again for the first time in years.

He remembered her face. She looked the exact same, only a few years older. Bucky was eighteen this time. He knows that because he had graduated high school and was getting ready for college. He dreamed of her as she also took the next step in life. Women back then had the opportunity to achieve higher education, and many women took that opportunity having received a degree and entering the work force, but it was not as common an occurrence. Women more often than not were housewives. Instead of going to college, they married and had children. But she was one of few that put off that natural cycle of motherhood. He dreamed of her in his class, taking the same tests as him, having the same friends as him. He dreamed of her studying hard after class, working twice as hard to get the same grades as her male classmates because women were not taken seriously. He offered to help her study, telling her that he knew she was where she belonged and he wanted to help her get the respect she deserved. Hey, Bucky Barnes was nothing if not progressive.

When he awoke from his dream, something inside him had snapped. He began to wonder if that wives tale had any truth to it. Many people believed in the myth, claiming they dreamed of their husband or wife for years before meeting. Yet, at the same time, many claimed that they married a person they never dreamed about but still loved with their entire being. Bucky's parents hadn't dreamed of each other before marrying, and Steve's parents hadn't either, but he's heard the stories of his other friends claiming their parents had dreamed of each other and married the moment they met. Was Bucky one of the lucky ones to know of his soulmate before meeting her? He spent many weeks from then on looking for her face in his college crowd. He looked for her in all of his classes. He looked for her as he walked to and from the school. He looked for her in his neighborhood, wondering if she lived close by. But he never found her. He didn't even know her name to ask if anyone had heard of her. She was just a ghost, a figment of his imagination, and it drove him crazy not knowing if she even existed. He was dreaming of a woman he didn't know, yet he wanted desperately to know her.

Many more years pass until he dreams of her again. The world is in turmoil now as America is thrown into another war. Pearl Harbor had been bombed, and men from all over the country had been involuntarily selected to join the fight. Bucky being one of them. Fear ate away at him as he was prepped for war to the best of the Army's ability. He tests high on the AGCT, earning him a Grade I achievement and a Sergeant Officer title. He is assigned to the 107th Infantry and immediately thrown on the battlefield. He sees more death in the trenches than he ever thought possible. It's hell on Earth as the men beside him drop like flies. He grows tired and weary as he goes days without sleep, fear eating at him and keeping his adrenaline up so high that it's impossible to sleep. But he eventually manages. His body is so exhausted that he physically can't stay awake any longer. The officers switch out and Bucky finally falls asleep. His first dream is of her.

She is just as tired and weary as him as she works tirelessly in a factory, making bullets for the military. She works long hours, from sun up 'til sun down. Bags had formed under her eyes and her cheeks grow hollow, but she works diligently still. She packs each bullet with love and a wish for the soldier using it to come home. She tells him to come home. His name is hard to hear when she says it. It sounds mumbled, like she says it underwater. He's not sure if it's because he's just imagining her saying it, or if it's because she's not actually real and all of this is pretend. But he doesn't question it. He wants to know that someone is praying for him. He wants to know that someone would miss him if he were to die. It's what keeps him going.

And when he wakes, he feels refreshed and rejuvenated for another battle. He fights hard to win, to return home, to find her. He has hope that the enemy will surrender, and everyone can return to their loved ones.

But then he gets captured. The German forces take him as a POW, and he is used as an experiment for the science division -Hydra. But he still holds out hope that this isn't the end. He still holds out hope that he will be found. No matter how many times they beat him, no matter how many times they inject him with unknown substances, no matter how many times they electrocute him, he hopes and he prays. He thinks of her every single time to keep him distracted from the pain. He compartmentalizes himself to hide. It's there he imagines her and what would happen when he comes home..... If he comes home.

He imagines finding her waiting for him. The Army finds him and takes him home. She is the first person he sees once he has been treated for his injuries. She is standing outside the hospital, bouncing on her toes and shaking with anticipation when he walks through the doors. She runs to him and throws herself in his arms. And they kiss for the first time. She takes him home like the hero he is. They marry, have children, their children have children. They grow old together, happy and carefree. It's the perfect life.

But then they take him back and they zap him again. They inject him with more stuff. The pain gets more intense. And her image slowly starts to fade from his memory. But he fights hard to keep her there.

She's waiting for him to come home. She's outside the hospital, eager to see him walk out. They kiss when they see each other. Shortly after, they get married. They have kids. Many kids.

And then he's zapped again.

She's waiting for him. She's outside the hospital -no, she's outside the Army base. They kiss. They marry. They have a kid.

Zap.

She's waiting. She's the one that finds him. They kiss.

Zap.

She's waiting. Blurry and unrecognizable.

Zap.

He sees an empty building. No one inside. He walks out. No one outside. He is alone. There is an emptiness in his chest as he looks around and sees no one. He feels like something is missing, but can't place his finger on it. It hurts.

Hydra becomes his new family. He is their pet, obediently doing everything they say. They train him in the art of death. He learns how to kill with his new toy -a metal limb replacing what was his arm. They teach him how to be a weapon, working exactly how they intended. Once his training is complete, they tell him he will be stored away until needed. And he's put into some sort of chamber, sealed off from everything and everyone, and then it grows cold. Ice instantly forms inside this tube. His blood freezes in a snap. His body becomes stiff. And he falls asleep.

In his sleep, a mysterious woman approaches him. She walks oddly, almost like she just teleports to him instead of taking steps. Her movements are jittery and erratic. Her face twists and morphs like an electrical shock. But it's clear as day what her intent is when a jittery hand reaches up to touch the outside of his chamber. She places it gently against the glass. Her static-y face looks up at him and a sense of longing fills his bones. The chill of the chamber is nothing compared to the chill of desperation as he somehow finds the strength to reach up and place his hand against hers on the other side. He looks down to see that it's the metal hand. His gut churns. He looks back up to her just in time to see a tear roll down her cheek.

"Bucky." she says. It's garbled and stuttered. Like when the radio glitches out just before dying.

Her voice sounds both foreign, but familiar. He can't place where he's heard it before. It's on the tip of his tongue, but nothing comes to mind. He knows her. He knows he does. But he can't think of a name or a place. He tries, though. His brain kicks into overdrive as he scans through every thought he has. She called him Bucky. Was that his name? It had to be. Where was he from? A place comes to mind: New York. That must be where he is from. Did he know her there? Was she a neighbor perhaps? No, that doesn't sit right with him. Family? No, not that either.

Before his train of thought could come to a complete stop, she fades from his view. She disappears in a cloudy mirage. And then the cold follows suit. The glass of his chamber lifts, and in the place where she stood is a group of men with weapons drawn at the ready. The barrels of the guns are pointed directly at his head.

One man stands in the center of the group, making direct eye contact with him. As he falls to the ground on his knees, slowly regaining control of his still-icy limbs, the unknown man speaks.

"Soldat." the man says, and the word sounds foreign in his ears. But a painful shock zaps his brain, and a response forms in his mind, quickly traveling to his tongue.

"Ya gotov otvechat." he responds with. He doesn't know what it means, but he says it anyway. The answer satisfies the man.

The man approaches, getting to his eye level from the ground, and tells him of an assignment. He is told he needs to kill a diplomat. An enemy diplomat. That Hydra -his owners and handlers- are shaping the world. He is told that he will be prepped for the mission and be sent on his way later on.

"Where is she?" he finds himself asking as he looks around to the men still aiming their weapons at him. All men. Not a single woman. Not her.

"Who?" the man questions with concern.

"The woman. She called me Bucky. I know her." he says, and he finds out just too late that it was the wrong thing to say.

They take him back to the chair. The chair he remembers clearly, and his body goes into fight or flight mode, but he is wrestled into the contraption and forced to endure the torturous zaps to his brain. The memory of this woman is gone once more. All he knows is his mission, which he completes to his handler's satisfaction, and then he is once again back in the icy chamber. The world grows dark as he falls into a cold sleep.

He doesn't know how much time passes while he sleeps. Is it a day? Several days? Months? Years? He doesn't know. He is left alone in complete darkness. Darkness and silence. It drives him to insanity being alone, not knowing if he was dead or alive, but well aware that he does, in fact, exist.

In the dark void, he imagines someone. A stranger. A friend. Just someone to keep him company as time passes by at an unknown pace. She's beautiful. A beautiful, kind, and caring soul that makes him feel less alone. She smiles at him constantly, bringing him a comfort he hadn't felt in awhile. Her touch is soft when she reaches out to him. She takes his hands in hers -both flesh and metal- and guides him through the darkness until a light opens up and he is transported somewhere familiar. Somewhere safe.

She wraps herself in his embrace and places a sweet kiss against his lips. He's filled with warmth. It reaches out to her, enveloping them both in a blanket of peace.

"Marry me, Bucky." she says to him in a sweet lilt. It's a stark contrast to the rough, grating voices of the men he answers to. It brings a smile to his face hearing it.

He can't help but be enamored with her. He wants to marry her. He wants to spend the rest of his life with her. He wants to stay in this moment of happiness forever. But he's once again ripped away from her as she melts into a puddle of nothingness, and her figure is replaced by the group of armed men.

"Soldat." he hears one of them say.

"Ya gotov otvechat." he responds with.

It's automatic the way he behaves. Instantly obeying commands despite being filled with dread as he does so. Like he has no control over his own body. He's a puppet being pulled by strings he can't see. But something inside him knows better than to try and fight it. It's a voice inside his head that sounds familiar. It's feminine. 'Just do what they say' it tells him. And an image of a woman flashes before his eyes, before quickly disappearing.

He knows her.

He remembers her.

The men send him on a mission. The world around him feels strangely different, but he doesn't know why. As he studies the layout of the land, he feels like a stranger in a strange land. But he does his best to carry out his mission like he's designed to do. All the while, images of the woman keep popping up in his mind.

He knows her.

His mission is a success. A world leader is assassinated, the country is plunged into turmoil, and Hydra swoops in to clean up. They establish a stronghold in the area, spreading Hydra's influence. He is told he did a job well done when he is taken back to headquarters. His handlers reward him. Well, he guesses it's a reward. They give him some time to just exist before they put him back in the chamber. But he takes it as a reward anyway. He sits off by himself, watching the agents around him. He studies every single one of their faces. Why? He doesn't know. He just has the urge to look. There's a thought inside his head telling him he needs to find a specific person, but he doesn't know who.

Once again, he is put into the chamber, and he is again forced into an icy world of blackness. But she's still there. She's waiting for him, bouncing on her toes and eager to see him. Once he sets his eyes on her, she runs to him and throws herself into his embrace. She kisses him deeply with a wide smile on her face.

"Welcome home!" she tells him when she pulls back. He can't help but smile back at her. With her, he feels..... happy.

Time with her is an illusion. He doesn't even know how long he has with her before she disappears again, so he learns to cherish every moment they have together. He doesn't know how he remembers her, or why she keeps showing up, but she's the only thing he longs to see. This woman fills him with a sense of hope that there is still good in the world. He has hope that one day he will be free from the torture of Hydra. Her presence is a promise that she will be there for him when that time comes.

When he is ripped away from her, the first thing he does is search for her in the crowd of Hydra agents. He's wild as he desperately pushes past his handlers in search of her. But his actions cause a stir of panic among everyone as they rush to subdue him. He is chained and held down like a rabid animal. Still, he looks for her. Then they drag him back to the chair and strap him in. Even still, he looks for her. He wants her. He needs to see her. But she's not there. And then he's zapped, and he forgets her for the time being.

When he sees her again in his imagination, he comes to the conclusion that this is all she is -a part of him that has hidden away and only comes out to comfort him. He has convinced himself that she's not real. He hasn't seen her out there in the real world. She is not one of his handlers, she is not one of his targets, she is not a passerby on the street as he blends in with the locals during his stakeouts. She is nothing more than a ruse confined to his dreams.

But he dreams of her nonetheless. He dreams of a life with her. He dreams of a house with a white picket fence and a yard full of kids. There is no worry here, no pain, no despair. Here, he is normal with a normal arm and a normal brain. He no longer falls to his knees in submission when he is given an order. He's finally happy.

It's a cycle he comes to memorize: he wakes from his frozen world to a group of armed men, is given a mission, carries it out, wiped from it all when it's said and done, put back into his chamber, and then meets her again. He loses track of how many times it happens. All he knows is that each time he wakes, many years have passed since the last, and the only thing he ever looks forward to is the completion of his mission so he can return to his sleep and dream of her. His girl.

Hydra tries their best to wipe her from his memory. They zap him over and over again every time he shows so much as an ounce of humanity. If he looks too hard in the crowd for her, they put him in the chair. If he mentions the name 'Bucky' that she calls him, they zap him harder. If he asks about a woman, they beat him. So he's learned to keep it to himself. He keeps her locked away to keep both her and him safe. Hydra can't wipe her from him if they don't know he still remembers her.

He has built a life with her in his dreams over the years. The children that they had all grew up. Their first born is now married with a child on the way, their youngest is starting college, and the two of them sold their empty nest and downgraded to a little cabin perfect for just the two of them. They spend all their free time traveling the world, making memories in new languages, sharing their life story with anyone willing to hear.

At this point, they've grown old. They sport grey hairs atop their head, a few extra wrinkles on their face, slower in their movements as their weary bones require rest. But she is still the most beautiful woman he's ever seen. She still fills him with a warmth that comforts him. With her, it's like nothing else matters. It's the perfect life.

Just as he kisses her goodnight, he is once again robbed and brought to the real world.

The agents around him have come and gone over the years, but he still knows that they have the upper hand. His main superior -Alexander Pierce, he remembers- has aged quite a bit, letting him know that yet another several years have gone by.

"Status report." Pierce orders.

"Ya gotov otvechat." he replies.

"We've got another mission for you. It'll shape the world as we know it. Project Insight." he is told and he knows what he needs to do.

His prep is quick. He is given all as-needed information that pertains to Project Insight. He is given a team to work with, told what his role is, and what the desired outcome will be. He is told when he will depart and who his targets are once he gets there.

He prepares himself on the journey. It's New York. The place sounds familiar to him, but he has no time to think on it because they arrive and he begins his work. Project Insight will be overtaken from the inside out. Eliminate the leaders and gain control of security. He is tasked with the first part. He knows a name and a face: Nick Fury. He is the first target. Eliminate him.

He acts on impulse. His body moves as it is designed to do. It kills. It causes damage. It leaves a trail of destruction in its wake. He is nothing more than a machine with his buttons being pushed by others. His mind tells him that he is just as much a victim as the civilians around him, but deep down he knows that is not true. A victim doesn't harm others like this.

The innocent people on the road are the victims as he and his team engage in a reckless high-speed chase against Nick Fury. The people in the buildings around them that are impacted by exploding vehicles are the victims. Even Nick Fury is a victim as he fires a rocket at the man's car and sends it flying across the freeway, trapping him inside the vehicle. Part of him is thankful that Nick Fury hadn't died from the crash. He is relieved when he checks the pile of burning metal and finds it empty. But he knows that letting the man live will only cause harm to him. His mission is not complete.

He is sent to follow Nick Fury's trail. First to an apartment, and then to a hospital to end it once and for all. Later, when the Hydra agents on the inside are ready to take over Project Insight for good, he is sent to finish his job. Only one stands in his way: Captain America. He is the enemy's strongest contender. It's SHIELD, he remembers. SHIELD made Captain America their golden boy. As long as Captain America lives, Hydra will never have complete control.

He ambushes the man on the highway. His team crashes the car the man tries to escape in. From there, a gun fight breaks out. Innocent civilians are caught in the cross fire yet again. Many try to flee, but some don't make it. He feels dread seep into his bones at seeing the bodies just fall to the ground, but he has no choice but to ignore them and keep eyes on his target.

He fires a rocket at Captain America, who dodges it effortlessly, and the rocket explodes into a bus behind him. People inside rush to escape it before being burned alive. Captain America's body isn't seen, making him think the man is somewhere buried beneath the destruction. He can't mark his mission as complete until he has confirmation that the man is dead, so he closes in, weapons drawn at the ready, and approaches the bus as more escape. A woman crawls through a broken window, crying out as she gets cut up from the glass.

Once there, he pushes through the broken metal pieces, looking for a blond body. So far, all he sees is fire, glass, burnt belongings, blood, and the woman crawling across the pavement. Leave no witnesses. He gets up and scrambles toward her before she can get away. She senses his movement and looks back at him in fear. He hears her cry out and watches as her face contorts with despair.

He feels something tug at his heart strings as he watches her seemingly give up the closer he gets. She practically lays there and accepts defeat once he gets right on top of her. He knows what he's doing is wrong. He knows how he looks to others. He knows he is the machine of terror. But he can't stop. He can't will his body to back away and leave her be. He must finish the job. At the very least, he tells himself it's better to put her out of her misery, but it's not something that comforts him because he knows she wouldn't be in pain like this if it weren't for him.

He gets over top of her, dropping to his knees to keep her trapped to the hot pavement. He rolls her over and gets a good look at her for the first time. The first thing he sees is her face covered in cuts and blood. It stains her skin red, only broken up by streaks of her tears as she cries. Once more, his heart constricts on itself. There's a pain in his chest, telling him to not do it. Just walk away. You can do it.

The weapon in his metal hand is drawn, ready to fire. Her eyes glance over to it real quick before looking back to him. She doesn't fight him. Doesn't try to shield herself. She just lays there beneath him and accepts her fate. But, with a choked out sob, she speaks.

"Bucky.... please...."

Bucky..... He knows that name. He's heard it before. Somewhere, deep in his mind, he can picture the last time he heard it. He knows her voice too. It rings a bell somewhere in his mind too. Electric shocks zap his brain, forcing his eyes to shut in pain. The pain of the chair is on the forefront of his mind. They zap him every time he remembers. He's not allowed to remember. He's not allowed to remember her, because he's not allowed to be human. He's a machine. He's a weapon. But there's that one part of him he's kept hidden away that screams out to him. The one part of him he's saved just for her. It's the part of him that has built a life inside his mind. He remembers the woman in his dreams, calling out his name with a smile just before she kisses him.

She's waiting for him, outside the hospital he's being treated in for his war injuries. She's bouncing on her toes, eager to see him. When he meets her at the door, she is quick to run into his embrace and press a sweet kiss to his lips. They go home together to build their life. They marry, have kids, then grandkids.

"Bucky?" he hears her voice again.

He looks down at the woman still bleeding. She's watching him intently. Something inside him breaks down. The part of him that he's had hidden away finally comes forth. For the first time, he moves of his own will. His free hand reaches down to touch her, softly, carefully, and wipes away the blood on her cheeks. At first, she flinches at his touch, but allows him to swipe his fingers over her skin when she realizes he isn't harming her.

Her skin is soft beneath his fingers. His flesh fingers can feel her body heat scorching from the adrenaline. With her face cleaned as best as he can get it, it finally clicks. The woman. His dreams.

"I know you." he murmurs out. "You were in my dreams...... I remember."

He can see her visibly relax. More tears trickle out from her eyes, but this time they are accompanied not by screams but by a choked laugh. She nods at him hopefully. She attempts to smile up at him, but the smile is mixed with pain.

"Yes! Yes, it's me!" she cries. "Please, Bucky, don't do this."

"I.... I can't..... I don't know how to stop." he admits in despair, because he knows it's true. He has no control over himself anymore. He belongs to Hydra.

"I can help you. I promise." she rushes out. It almost sounds like she's just trying to convince him to let her up. After all, who wouldn't say whatever they could in order to get out of a situation like this? But..... he believed her.

He slowly gets off of her and holds a hand out to her. She is hesitant to take his hand. She looks at it for a moment, and he can see the gears in her head turning. But eventually she gives in. Her small, bloody hand sends a spark of electricity through him. This time, it's a good spark. It feels good. He pulls her to her feet and she wobbles against him. A pained cry erupts from her lips and he is reminded that she is injured. Injured because of him. He injured his soulmate.

"You need help. You have to leave." he tells her.

"Then come with me." she says.

He is about to answer her, telling her he can't because he is property of Hydra, but before he can say a single word there are more explosions around them. He covers her with his body, shielding her from the flying debris. Around them, the fire fight rages on. Captain America and his team are fighting the Hydra agents. Bombs, bullets, and rockets go flying around them. The bus then finally explodes into a million pieces and he can feel the heat burning through his clothes. He hears her cry once more as the heat burns her skin.

She can't stay here. It's too dangerous. Hydra will kill her.

He hoists her to her feet again and drags her out of harms way. He puts her behind cover and reluctantly lets her go.

"Go." he orders. She is confused.

"Come with me!" she repeats.

"I can't. They won't let me."

"Bucky......"

"Go!" he says more forcefully. Another bomb goes off and she has no choice but to back away.

A final look exchanged between them and she runs off, disappearing from him for the millionth time. It hurts more this time, because this time it's not his imagination. She's been ripped away from him for real. And when Hydra pulls back from the fight, taking him with them, he knows this will be the last time he ever sees her in real life ever again.

They put him back in the chair, and they wipe him once more, and her memory is once again gone.

#marvel #mcu #bucky barnes #original female character #ofc #fanfiction #oneshot #imagine

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hurt-care · 1 year ago

Text

The Wedding Date

I've had this idea for a fic for a few weeks and I just had to write it! It's been AGES since I've written and I got this one out pretty quickly, but I hope it's fun to read.

OCs, M/F relationship M, allergies Scenario - old college friends reconnect at a wedding. One of them is suffering from some spectacular hayfever. The other has a thing for sneezing....

-----

Pulling at the waist of her dress, Katie fidgeted as she looked around the gathering crowd. It was a warm spring day in Austin; not too hot but still brilliantly sunny. It was her first time visiting Texas and while she knew that she would eventually run in to some people she knew at this wedding, for now the people nearby were all strangers. She was in town to celebrate the wedding of her college friends, Ashleigh and Tim. They'd all met in Chicago but had since all moved away. Katie had continued on to Utah for a graduate degree and had since settled in Colorado. Ashleigh and Tim had moved to Austin where Tim had grown up. Katie was one of a handful of people who had flown in from out of town for the event while most of the guests were local friends and family of the couple.

Suddenly, Katie saw a familiar face across the lawn. They were all gathered on the grounds of a local museum in the midst of a beautiful five-acre property with sprawling gardens and trees. There, standing alone at one of the scattered cocktail tables, was Ben.

The last time she'd seen him was their graduation ceremony over six years ago. He'd lost some of the boyish roundness to his face and was sporting an unfamiliar scruffy beard, but he otherwise looked just the same as she remembered. Her heart skipped a beat as he looked up and met her eyes. She'd had an impossibly huge crush on him for all four years of school but she'd never had her chance to act upon it. He'd arrived at college already attached to a girlfriend from high school and they'd been together on and off all four years that Katie had known him.

He started to cross the lawn towards her. He was wearing a navy linen suit with a green tie and as he got closer, she could see that he looked...upset? His eyes were red and puffy. Suddenly, he paused his stride and turned his head away, tucking his face into the crook of his arm.

Katie froze as she watched him jerk with a sneeze. Oh god.

She's had a weird kink as long as she can remember. She always found sneezing to be strangely endearing and now her college crush was walking towards her and he was clearly suffering from allergies.

He recovered from the sneeze and approached her.

“Hey Katie!” he said. “Didn't know I'd see you here!”

His voice was subtly congested and he sniffled audibly at the end of the statement. She tried not to stare too intensely at him but it was hard not to notice his swollen eyes and nose.

“Hi Ben!” she replied, trying to keep her voice steady as they embraced in a swift hug. “So good to see you! How're things?”

He was smiling at her but his expression was faltering and his eyebrows furrowed while his mouth hung open and he panted with a few shallow breaths.

“Sorry,” he said haltingly. “I have to---teh...ehTSGHH!!”

He turned away again, catching the sneeze with steepled hands.

“Ugh, sorry,” he reiterated. “Allergies. It's my first time in Texas and I didn't really realize how bad it would be here.”

“Ah,” she said, feeling her cheeks burn and she hoped she wasn't visibly blushing as bright red as it felt like she was. “I hear they're awful here. Cedar or something.”

He nods, fishing in his pocket and retrieving a bit of a well-used tissue. “I should've taken something stronger than my regular stuff but I guess it's too late now. Anyway, how're you? You look great! Whereabout are you living these days?”

She feels herself blush more. “Thanks! Um...I'm in Denver, actually. Finished grad school last spring and moved there in the fall. So it's been about six months. I like it, but I miss Chicago. Are you still there?”

“Yeah, I'm still at the bank. It's good. I saw Tim and Ashleigh in the fall actually. They came up to visit, which was nice. Tim was in town for work so they made a week of it.”

He pressed the tattered tissue to his nose as he spoke. Katie bit her lip, watching him with a mix of awe and embarrassment. His bright blue eyes, the feature that had first attracted her to him, were still beautiful and stood out thanks to his navy suit. But they were bloodshot and puffy today, clearly irritated and itchy.

“Maybe we should find our seats for the ceremony?” she suggested, glancing towards the rows of folding chairs where much of the crowd was gathering now. “See if we can find anyone else from school? I heard Mark was coming. And I think Amy too.”

“Sure! Yeah, I talked to Mark and he can't make the ceremony but he'll be coming to the reception after dinner. I'm not sure about Amy.”

They made their way over to the chairs and picked out seats. Beside her, Ben sniffled thickly and rubbed at his nose. She took out her phone, subtly checking her appearance in the camera to ensure she wasn't beet-red. Witnessing him in the midst of the allergy attack was doing her heart-rate no favours. He groaned quietly and put a palm to his eye, wiping away some tears as they watered.

When the ceremony music began, she gave mental thanks for the distraction from the spectacle at her side. The bridal party processed down the aisle and the crowd rose to stand for the bride. Ashleigh looked radiant as she walked towards the front of the ceremony space and stood opposite Tim. The officiant welcomed the crowd and invited them to be seated.

At her side, Ben turned and stifled two sneezes into his arm. Eh-GHXT! Tsh-GXHT!

He sniffled wetly and pressed his knuckles to his red, swollen nose. Out of the corner of her eye, Katie could see a damp spot around his nostrils. Digging in her purse, she retrieved a small folded tissue and held it out to him.

“Oh god, thank you,” he whispered.

“I brought it in case the vows made me tear up but I think you need it more,” she whispered back.

He pressed the folded tissue to his nostrils and almost instantly sneezed again, barely managing to stifle the sound.

Ehh-TSGHXXT!

Katie crossed her legs, feeling herself flooding with arousal and hoping that the ceremony would be short. Thankfully, it was. As the bride and groom were announced, the crowd rose to their feet and cheered the new couple.

“They look great,” Ben said as the bride and groom walked by. He turned and smiled at Katie.

“They do,” she agreed. His smile at her gave her a sudden jolt of confidence.

“Hey, she asked. “Are you still dating Amelia? Why isn't she here?”

“Oh,” Ben said, sounding a little surprised. “Oh, no, we broke up ages ago. When we were still in school actually. Close to the end of our last year.”

“Oh,” Katie replied, feeling herself growing bolder. “Are you seeing anyone else now?”

“No,” Ben said. “I've been single for a bit. Work is busy and all that. I'll get back out there eventually. What about you?”

“Err..no one at the moment,” she replied.

“Well then I hope you'll agree to be my dance partner tonight,” he said. “If I can stop sneezing long enough to dance.”

She was sure now that she was visibly blushing.

“I'd like that, yeah,” she stammered. “And it's fine. We know it's not contagious. Anyway, let's go find the cocktail bar. I need a drink.”

“Agreed,” he said. “My throat is so dry. Hopefully a few glasses of wine knocks the hay-fever out of me. Shall we?”

He extended his bent arm to her. She was surprised by the gesture but took his arm and smiled.

“Lead the way!”

They walked across the sunny lawn towards the bar. There was already a small line formed and as they took their place at the end, Katie could hear Ben's breath catch.

She tried not to turn and stare, but she couldn't help it. He steepled his hands over his nose and bent at the waist, sneezing forcefully.

Hehh-TSCHOOO!

He sniffled with a wet sound and didn't remove his hands from his face. She heard his breath gasp and he pitched forward with a small fit of rapid sneezes.

Nghh-TSGHT! Ehh-TSCHHT! Hehhh....ehhh-TSCHIIHEHHH!

He kept one hand over his nose as he fumbled for the tissue she'd given him earlier. A tear from his irritated eyes fell down his cheek.

“Bless you,” she said softly, feeling as if she was saying something much more flirtatious.

“Sorry,” he muttered, trying to clean himself up a little.

“Why don't you go find us a quiet spot to sit and I'll get the drinks?” she offered.

“That would be great,” he said, his voice cracking hoarsely. “White wine please. I'll get a spot over by that gazebo.”

He gestured to a sheltered spot on the far side of the lawn and she nodded. “See you in a few.”

With Ben gone, she can let her guard down for a second and she exhales, fanning her face with her hand for a moment. The spring day suddenly feels much warmer. She gets two glasses of white wine and carries them towards the gazebo.

Ben is sitting on a bench looking miserable. His eyes are more swollen now and he is dabbing his nose with the rapidly-disintegrating tissue.

“Thanks,” he said as she handed him one of the glasses. He took a long sip. “Sorry I'm such a mess. It's really nice to see you, Katie.”

“It's fine,” she said. “Really.”

“You look great. That dress is perfect on you.”

She looked at him in wonder. Was he flirting with her?

“That suit is great on you too. Blue is your colour. I always thought you had the nicest blue eyes.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I'm glad you're here. To be honest, I wasn't even sure I was going to come because I wasn't sure I'd know anyone besides Ashleigh and Tim. They're the only ones I've really kept in touch with besides Rachel but she just had a kid in March and couldn't come.”

She was momentarily distracted by the flaring of his nostrils and she stared as he built up to another sneeze. He gave a faint growl of frustration before he turned and sneezed into his arm.

Ehh-TSCHEHH!

“Goddammit...ahh, sorry,” he said with a sniffle.

For a moment he stared at her and she stared back, unsure of what to say. In the distance, the DJ turned down the cocktail party music and announced that everyone should take their seats for dinner and the introduction of the bridal party.

“I guess we should find our seats,” Ben said.

They were seated at the same table they discovered upon examining the seating chart. Also at the table were a few university friends and a few of Tim and Ashleigh's friends from Austin. The dinner conversation was casual and fun, but Katie found herself distracted by Ben's continued battle. He excused himself to the bathroom at one point halfway through dinner and he returned with a much redder nose, evidently having blown it multiple times.

With dinner over, the DJ put on a popular song and encouraged the crowd towards the dance floor.

“I know I said I'd dance with you but I don't know how much longer I can stand this,” Ben said in Katie's ear. He gestured towards his face.

“Just a few songs and then I'll leave you to the mercy of an Uber to the drug store before it closes,” she said boldly. “You promised.”

They went towards the dance floor, joining the crowd. They started to dance and she moved her body closer to him, emboldened by the glasses of wine in her now. He was warm and his breath was hot against her skin as they embraced, swaying to the beat.

Someone came by with a tray of shots and they joined a group of cheerful bridesmaids, swallowing the tequila in one swift go before resuming their dancing.

“I can't believe I'm saying this but I had such a crush on you during school,” Katie says into Ben's ear.

He looked at her and grinned.

“You did not!”

“I did!” she shouted back over the music.

“Funny how things work out,” he said into her ear.

The music shifted to a ballad and the crowd thinned a little as couples joined up to dance. Ben put his hands around Katie's hips and they embraced, moving to the music.

“Would....is it okay with you if I kiss you?” he asked.

She didn't bother to respond, instead simply pressing her lips to his. Their noses touched and she could feel a bit of moisture from his. He pressed his lips back more firmly, getting lost in the moment. They broke the kiss and he turned his lips to her neck, kissing there. She ran her fingers through his hair, somewhat lost in disbelief that all her college fantasies were coming true tonight.

He froze in her arms suddenly, his lips leaving her neck. He didn't have time to react and she can feel him shudder as the sneeze bursts out of him unexpectedly.

Hehh-TSTZHHTT!

He managed to stifle it enough to avoid completely spraying her but she felt a small bit of moisture hit her skin.

“Oh my god I'm so sorry,” he gasped, pulling away and putting a hand over his nose. “I'm so sorry Katie. Fuck, this is so embarrassing.”

She burned hot from her own embarrassment and desire.

“Let's go somewhere else for a minute,” she suggested, taking his arm gently.

He let her drag him away and when they were out of sight of the other guests, he turned to her, looking humiliated.

“I'm so sorry...I didn't feel it coming and....”

She reached out and touched his cheek affectionately.

“It's okay,” she assured him. “I know it's not catching. I'm just sorry you're uncomfortable.”

He nods, staring down at his hands.

“Damn it. I was really having a good time.”

His cheeks were flushed red now too.

Maybe it was the tequila or maybe it was the knowledge that tomorrow he'd go back to Chicago and she'd go back to Denver....but whatever it was, Katie found herself making a bold proposal.

“I have a suggestion,” she said. “It's....well, it's pretty forward but we've established that the crush is mutual, yeah?

He looked at her curiously. “Yeah.”

“I have a room at the hotel to myself. And I don't think the pollen count is going to improve tonight and you're just going to keep suffering if you stay here. So.....would you want to come back to my room?

His red, swollen eyes widened.

“I....well, yeah, sure....I'd like that. Can't be that attractive for you though, can I? There's a lot of snot happening, well...like all over here.”

He gestured to his face.

She remained silent for a moment, biting her lip. She'd never admitted her kink to a partner before.

“I don't know if I can tell you this, Ben,” she said. “It's really....it's awkward. I don't know if I can say it out loud.”

“You can tell me. I promise I won't laugh.”

“It's...I have a thing. I guess you could say it's a kink. I...I don't mind sneezing.”

“You don't mind sneezing?”

“I guess I mean I like it.”

He stared at her a moment and then a grin split across his face.

“Oh!”

“Yeah...”

He laughed and shook his head.

“I know I said I wouldn't laugh but I'm not laughing at you. I...jesus, Katie, I'd say you're in luck tonight!”

She grinned back at him.

#dustyfic #sneezefic #snzfic #snzfucker #snzblr

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batmanfruitloops · 1 year ago

Text

Finally finished Harley's backstory!

Also, please let me know if I need more trigger warning tags, I'm not sure I covered them all, but I'm drawing a blank,

Harleen couldn't remember a time when her parents had gotten along, nor was she old enough to remember when they divorced, but she did remember how different living with each of them was, and that she much preferred the time with her father.

Her mother treated Harleen well enough, but she was almost always out of the house partying or gambling, leaving Harleen to take care of herself if she was unable to on a given day. She woke herself up for school, made herself food, and sometimes if she was lucky, her mother wasn't too hungover to spend a little time with her.

Her father, on the other hand, treated Harleen like his most precious treasure, taking her out to the circus whenever he could and buying her ice cream after picking her up from school. He had Bipolar (I'm not too sure which one, I need to do more research) and depression for a long time, but he did his best not to let it affect Harleen. From about middle school, Harleen started to show similar traits as her father, as well as being tested for narcissism, but her father knew how to help, so Harleen was able to keep them in check.

It wasn't until his own health started to drastically decline when Harleen was graduating high school that things got hard. She had already balanced having a job with her schoolwork, but found herself looking for a better paying job, as her father could no longer work as well to help with rent. She managed all that while still preparing to get a degree to go in therapy, but it was starting to affect her. Worse, her father's attitude towards her started to change. Not only was he extremely depressed all the time, he would have bouts of extreme aggression or hysteria before becoming despondent, judgemental, and intensely suicidal. Harleen was terrified, especially since she couldn't stay home with him all the time. Not if she wanted to keep her job and finish her degree.

She took him to a lot of doctors to see if they could help, but their answers all lead to an unknown form of disease that seemed to latch unto the brain and affect pre-existing health issues. This devastated Harley, and she was honestly terrified too. The doctors had warned that it tended to run in the family, so there was a high chance this would happen to her too.

It was all too much, her brain was swimming, practically drowning her thought after thought, and she could hardly tread on. She continued to work, albeit her coworkers noticed the shift. She had exams coming up, ones that would determine if she got her degree or not, but she'd barely been able to study and so…she cheated. She'd never done so in her life. It hurt her pride, and her father would be so disappointed, but he didn't have to know. It was all for him anyway,

Harleen passed, and she was lucky to get a job as a Blackgate therapist. Her schedule made it possible to watch her father most of the time, and this eased her mind, although her father's treatment kept her morale low. After a few years, she was offered a new therapist position at Arkham that was better paying for less hours, and she gladly accepted.

This is where she became John's (Jokers) therapist. They shared an interest in circus’, but there wasn't much else they agreed on. Harleen was also very drained by her father at this point, and had taken a lot of what he said to heart, so despite not agreeing with everything she said, Harleen still repeated harsh, personal things to John. Something about his genuine, fragile nature bothered her. And much in the same way, Harleen reminded John of his mother in the worst aspects.

On one particularly exhausting day, Harleen found her father had hung himself while she was at work. Her heart sank. She almost didn't believe it, but it really was him. She barely allowed herself to mourn and continued to work, finding herself lashing out at John even more. She lost it, starting to beat him as he helplessly buckled.

Now Strange didn't usually care if his patients were treated poorly, he often engaged such behavior himself, but some higher ups were visiting to access the Asylum because of Attorney Dent and Mr. Wayne's concerns. So when they witnessed Harleen beating John, she had to be fired.

At this point, Harleen feels she has nothing left, and after a bout of depression she goes back out as Harley Quinn, tired of trying to fight all the emotions and pain tangled up inside her.

- Sarsee

#batmanfruitloops #anewgothamau #batman #dc #batman villains #batman rogues #gotham rogues #harley quinn #harleen quinzel #tw: suicide #tw: death #tw: abuse #batmanfruitloopslore #tw: neglect

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moodymisty · 1 year ago

Note

Hello. I'd like to leave a request. So recently I was listening to "River" by Bishop Briggs so I thought, what if someone danced to this song for Crosshair? The idea is, reader is Batch's doctor and enjoying a few days on land she goes out with some friends to 79. The boys arrive later and they all sit together. It's happening live performances at 79, singers, dancers, but none can really rock the bar, you know? Reader's friends comment on her dancing skills, making Crosshair laugh and daring her to get up on stage and dance. Pissed with him, the reader accepts the challenge and during the performance comes to dance exclusively for him, teasing him. I would be the happiest girl if you could finish it with a smut. xoxo

Author's note: I find it so funny when people come into my asks with such specific prompts, I feel like I'm trying to make someone's daydream come true XD I hope you enjoy kind anon. I'm not a going out night type of person, but I hope I captured that fun confident energy this prompt has :3

Relationships: Crosshair/Fem!Reader

Warnings: NSFW, dancing, Mentions of alcohol, Sex in a bathroom, Slightly rough Sex, Unprotected Sex, Porn with just enough plot i can barely saw it's not pwp

Sometimes you wonder if there's a specific word for how you feel whenever you get back to Coruscant after a long while away.

Time feels like it passes so fast, but yet so, excruciatingly, slow.

It's been roughly two months since you've been back on solid Coruscanti ferrocrete, and it feels like you've been gone for two years. When you'd once joked about it, Hunter mentioned that it was how they'd all felt shortly after graduating from cadets and being send out into the field, so maybe it had something to do with light speed travel. Or something of the sort.

Either way, unimportant. There's drinks that need to be drank.

Some are just water while some are varying degrees of hard liquor, all spread across the table in a lazy, unorganized fashion.

You'd first told your friends about 79's after the Batch had invited you here for the first time, and you were eager to share. It's a nice place all and all, you enjoy the energy. Some of the other dive bars around the nearby districts, at least the ones that don't charge half a fortune for every sip, tend to attract not so friendly people.

79's is cheap, easy going, and the troopers are flirty- but keep their hands mostly to themselves.

Before you'd left Hunter had mentioned that they might be coming close behind to get a bit of a rare break as well, gods know they probably need it just as much as you do. So you've been glancing at the doors every now and again, looking for that brushed black armor for the past hour.

"Are they even still coming?"

You'd casually mentioned their potential coming a few minutes ago; And one of your friends, the one with a real penchant for bad boys and not the best decision making skills when five or more drinks deep, is very eager to meet them.

They know which one to avoid flirting up, anyways.

"They'll be here. They're usually pretty late anyways. If something came up, I'd be getting the same call as them." You are in their squad after all, so if they have to go out on a sudden mission, it would be extremely doubtful they'd even consider leaving without you.

But speaking of them...

Not minutes later you finally see them enter, easily spotted by their dark palette contrasting with the sea of white plastoid. They always stand out, and at least in this particular setting, they enjoy it readily. Quickly you all move to find a spot where you can all sit together, making sure to bring your drinks, both new and already half down, with.

Needless to say the Batch livens up the party significantly, which was a much needed boost given the slow state of the night so far.

For awhile the live music and show had largely been existing in the background; A good show, but nothing worth maintaining your entire attention. Especially since now that your favorite troopers are here, it's even less so important.

But now that it's currently between acts, it seems one of your friends has gotten herself a devious idea.

"Why don't you get up there and show them how it's done? Like at that one bar on-" You quickly shush her before she manages to regale a tale you don't exactly want retold in this state, rolling your eyes. But it seems the mention of a story has already caught particularly Crosshair's interest, and she quickly goes about spilling the memory once you no longer stop her.

"There was a open mic night at this one bar, and she killed it. Everyone thought she was a paid performer." Quickly she gestures to the stage, which is surrounded by tipsy, flushed faced clone troopers. They're awaiting the next performance, if there's even going to be one. Your friend speaks up again, pleading with you while Crosshair and the rest of the Batch look on curiously.

"Come on! It's open! Go up there!"

You're not exactly opposed to the idea, but you also don't feel like leaving the party behind so to speak. You're just about to shake your head and refuse again, when Crosshair speaks up at your side. He's been leaning back in the seat the whole time, one of his arms lazily against the back of the seat elbow close to your shoulder and forearm dangling down.

"Oh come on, gonna leave everyone guessing now that we know your little secret?"

Crosshair has his eyebrows raised, watching you. It's clearly bait as he sets it out like this all the time, but you're in the mood for taking a bite.

"Maybe I will. The mystery will make me seem even better than I am."

He rolls his eyes, and with a distinctly sarcastic flavor to his voice, responds.

"Whatever makes you feel better, Doll."

Now a little miffed despite you are the one who bit his fishhook, you scrunch your face and look at him, while he seems almost overwhelmingly smug. When you ask why, he responds with:

"Mystery?" A scoff. "Why don't you just say you're too scared?"

Well now he just wants a fight.

You don't know what comes over you at that point; Maybe it's the vibe, the drinks, something else or all of it combined, because it feels like a blink from being there under Crosshair's arm, to convincing the bouncer to let you at the mic.

Thankfully it doesn't require much, as it seem all the rehearsed performances were finished for the night, and now the mic was pretty much open to anyone willing and able to give it a shot.

Considering you that person, you take it into your hands and decide to give it 110, hoping to at least shut Crosshair's fat mouth.

The rest of it is all a blur; A series of sung words and perhaps some dancing that might not of been entirely appropriate, had the crowd not absolutely ate it up.

Whats the point in singing and not dancing anyhow? You think, hips shaking from side to side in a slow but perfect pace with the beat of the music. Once the first song finishes, you feel enough of a high that you decide to do another, and it doesn't seem anyone is going to complain at you for doing so. It's a bit of a slower one, so you can't exactly help the way your body sways unconsciously back and forth with the music.

Mid-song however you take a look upward and spot the Batch far in the back, Hunter, Wrecker and Tech turned at the waist an arm over the back of the seat to watch. Crosshair however as you eyes locked right on you while you sing-

And he is fucking furious.

At least it seems like he's fuming, it's sometimes hard to tell. Though it's pretty safe to say he's more affected by this little stunt, to say the least.

You don't go back to the booth once you finally manage to sneak off stage through demands for more, as by the time you enter the hall to go wash up in the bathroom quick, you find Crosshair is leaning by the wall waiting. When he spots you, his body rises off the way in a way that gives away how tense his body is, shoulders straight.

He must've come back here the moment you left the stage, intent to cut you off and steal a moment with you alone.

"You looked like you were having fun up there." His tone is tense, but you respond to it with your usual quips.

"I did. And did you like the show?"

Normally saying those sorts of things is how you try to disarm his attitude, but it only serves to make it worse this time, as you smile at him with the confident smirk of a job well done. You feel positively bubbly now after having that much fun, and seeing Crosshair stewing over what you assume is his failed dare.

The show had all been for him, so he better have enjoyed it. Not to say you didn't enjoy preforming. Maybe your friend didn't have such a bad idea after all; You wouldn't be so resistant to doing so again if the opportunity arose.

You take a few steps closer to Crosshair, anymore and you'd be brushing chests, seeing his pursed lips.

"What?"

You barely have a chance to say anything else before he grabs you shoulder and kisses you, his other hand reaching for the handle of the refresher door. It's empty, and so he pushes you in, locking it behind him near instantly. By the time he does his mouth is already back against your own, teeth brushing against your bottom lip.

There isn't much room to maneuver at all in here; It's so tight being really only meant for one person. As such in order to get a bit of breathing room you end up on the countertop, knees parted to let him in the moment you're able.

You'd originally come with a coat, but having long since shed it before going up on stage, Crosshair has unimpeded access to the soft skin of your neck.

"Cross!" You say when his hands grip your thighs tight, squeezing the soft flesh beneath his gloved palms.

"Everyone's gonna wonder where we are..." Your sentence fades off, feeling his lips on your skin and the coldness of the mirror on your back. The hem of your skirt has already gotten pushed up nearly to your hips from sitting in this position, and it only takes one tug from Crosshair to fully send it there and reveal your underwear.

"I don't care."

You didn't really expect him to, but his strained comment is still amusing none the less.

His lips roughly trap yours again in a kiss as he fumbles to remove the one piece of armor he needs to, throwing it aside with a loud thunk as it hits the ground. There's not a care in the galaxy for it right now, as all of his attention is on you.

You can't help the soft sigh that leaves your lips as you feel his hand brush over the heat of your cunt, as he tries to tear away your panties. When he realizes you have stockings on over them, he lets out something you can only describe as a growl in frustration.

"How many fuckin' things you got on under there?" You can't hold back the small giggle you let out.

"In a hurry?"

It'll be easier- and faster, if you kick off your heels, doing so before Crosshair loses his patience and just tears runs all the way through the razor thin fabric. The heat of his fingers is palpable through it, as he pulls your stockings and underwear in one bunch down to your hips. You have to rise up on your palms a bit to try and help, before they get yanked down enough that they dangle around one ankle.

Swearing that you can feel his nails make little dents in the skin of your ass even through his gloves, he grasps your hips tight and yanks you to the edge of the countertop and even a bit over, legs dangling precariously before they wrap around his hips. In that moment you can feel his hips grind against your almost of their own accord, and the feeling sends a jolt right to your clit.

The fabric of your dress is a deep red, perfectly matching the splash of worn red paint that adorns his armor; Exactly what you'd thought when you'd bought it. You're glad it's served you so well so far.

"I'm pleased you liked my little dance so much,"

You say with a laugh, feeling him fumble with the fabric of his body glove just out of view. One arm wraps around his neck, fingers playing with the short grey hair at his nape, while the other tries to keep you steady and on top of the countertop. Not as if Crosshair would let you fall, anyhow. But it still is in the back of your mind, within the tight confines of the refresher this isn't much room at all and if you stretched your legs out fully, you'd just be able to touch the opposing wall.

"Everyone did. They couldn't look away from you."

Oh, so he's a little jealous, you think. Never thought you'd hear him near admit he was fuming over some drooling shinies, but there's a first time for everything.

"Who cares about them; It was all for you." You didn't care that anyone else had been looking at you but him, even beyond the stupid dare.

Freeing his cock from his body glove you feel the heat against your bare thigh, stealing a quick kiss and feeling the tiny bit of stubble dotting his jawline. It'll be gone tomorrow so it's military appropriate, but for now you can enjoy the rough feeling on your skin as his fingers brush against your cunt.

You have to inch even closer, more precariously so his cock can press up against you, teasing your entrance as as your cunt drips. Your legs are lazily wrapped around his hips, and only tighten as he slips inside of you, the rough edges of his armor stiff against your skin.

He doesn't really have much else to wear beside it, not that you mind its being on.

"You're the one that dared me,"

He hears you whisper his name under your breath as he pushes his way into your cunt, over the sounds of more random music outside the door. Though you can't hear it for much longer; As it's drowned out by the sound of rough panting and clothed skin on skin, muffled by the fabric of his body glove. It quickly becomes stained a darker black from where your cunt drips onto it.

"I dared you to go up there and sing," He grits his teeth in a rare lapse of stoicism, hissing through. "Not do that." A rough jerk of his hips cause you to gasp, as he feels like he's going to drive right into your stomach. The angle makes everything tighter, so much closer, and your cunt flutters around him.

"So I can't do that again?" You sound breathless, but the mirth in your voice still shines through.

He scoffs, lips on the corner of your mouth.

"Just do it where only I can see you."

The air between you both is thick with hot breath and flushed skin, and you'd love nothing more than to rip this dress off if not for the fact that you aren't at your apartment- you're instead getting railed in the bathroom at 79's.

Your chest feels like it's going to bounce out of your bra from the way he's fucking you; Having to adjust top of your dress to avoid it spilling out. It's not back in presentable fashion and would be quite easy to tell how your evening's been going, but right now you could barely care.

You just want to cum fast and hard, eager to chase that peak as Crosshair tries to drive you into the mirror at your back.

You're going to feel it in the morning if he keeps this up, feeling the way his cock grinds against your already battered, oversensitive nerves. Hell, you're already feeling it right now; Your muscles ache tight, fingers prying at the edges of his plastoid armor. If he didn't have it on, he'd surely have nail marks on his shoulder blades.

"Gods, fuck Crosshair, I'm so close,"

Your stomach is tight and twisting in knots, and your swear you can feel your heartbeat in your cunt your thighs shiver and shake. Your head lolls back hitting the mirror as you moan, legs tightening around him as your orgasm wracks your entire body.

He keeps fucking you through it even if slowly, driving his cock as deep as he can given the position. But even if he did slow, there's still an aggressiveness, a desperation to it all. Everything is in the heat of the moment, even his almost incomprehensible mumblings, some that are your name, and others praises that he'd feel to open saying out loud without an aura of cockiness.

His hand grips the back of your dress enough to leave wrinkles and probably be close to busting one of the seams, pulling you bottom close as he fully bottoms out inside of you. His hips slow to an inconsistent, shallow movements as he finishes inside of you, some of his own cum leaking out around his cock as he slows to deeper, longer thrusts while his body ratchets down.

When he finally stills, body now far loosen and relaxed than he'd been minutes ago, you still feel the way your cunt flutters as your muscles ache from use.

"Let's go back to your apartment." He suddenly utters out, still slightly out of breath. Your head rests against his shoulder, the cold plastoid cool against your flushed skin.

"Can I get my coat and say goodbye to my friends before you usher me into a taxi?" Crosshair rolls his eyes and the corners of his mouth twitch upwards. You don't disagree that perhaps somewhere more private is a better place to be, and you slowly attempt to pull up your stockings and underwear enough to hop off the counter; Crosshair not helping, but ready in case you stumble. Once on the ground you're slipping up your underwear, feeling the slickness of your cunt dampen them ever so slightly.

"Was that dance not good enough farewell?" You roll your eyes. Your one heel is easy to find, the other takes a moment to slip on sounding strained as you bend over to put it on.

"Like I said; That was just for you." Crosshair doesn't respond, looking away as his pursed lips twitch in thought. It takes a moment to adjust the hem of your dress, before you feel ready enough to reach for the door.

You quickly rush to grab your things and say goodnight to everyone, attempting to defuse any curious questions as to your absence post performance. Tech tries to inquire as to Crosshair's absence, but the sniper quickly snips the conversation stating he just needed to tell you something, before saying he needs to grab a taxi and removes himself from the firing line for anymore questions.

And now he needs to bring you home, conveniently enough.

Wrecker seems disappointed that two members of the party are leaving, but once more food and drinks arrive in front of him he quickly gets over it. He'll probably be too drunk to remember most of the night anyways, and Hunter will end up the same if Tech doesn't cut him off.

After getting a 'stay safe' from Hunter it's a quick jaunt outside into the cool evening air, when Crosshair is standing with a hailed Taxi stopped right behind him. He's looking right at you, leaning against the outside as you come closer.

"All finished?" He says, arms crossed. You watch as he moves to the side to let you in, and you just look up at him and smile as you slip in, saying:

"Maybe."

Join the taglist here: @seriowan @simp-legend @nekotaetae @chad-something @coffeyorky @merkitty49 @lokigirlszendaya @totesnothere04 @get-wr3ckered @rebel-finn @mandoloriancookie @therealnekomari @loverofclones @notthatfanfictionwriter @lucyysthings @jennrosefx @fxlsealarm @crosshairs-wife @sinfulsalutations @Rennyboo9 @pb-jellybeans @jediknightjana

#this one was a little out of my element but i'm not displeased with it so im happy #the bad batch crosshair x reader #crosshair x reader #Crosshair/Reader #tbb x reader #the bad batch x reader #Crosshair x you #reader insert #reader #mywriting

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filth-burps-writing · 10 months ago

Text

Secretary

I’m still working on plot shit for my previously promised slobby monster story so have a vintage threesome one shot so I can practice my format for longer stories.

Tw; misogyny,anxiety mention, alcohol mention, dubious consent related to alcohol

Kinks; slob, weight gain,fart,burps,bloating,intox,BDSM

Pansy’s speech

Reginald’s speech

Delilah’s speech

It was Delilah’s first day working at I tepruar Metals. She packed a small lunch on purpose because after years of high waisted dresses she wasn’t sure how her figure would hold up in a pencil skirt. Not that she’d ever worn one before. When she was in high school and college she wore pedal pushers and after her graduation she got pregnant soon after. She hadn’t worn something so “showy” since her childhood. However that was the least of her concerns. Even as one of two secretaries she was expected to be sharp and after 15 years of housekeeping her brain had probably atrophied.

As her husband walked in she snapped out of her daze and finished placing salad leaves in her Tupperware. “ good morning sweetheart I’m a little nervous about going to work but I’m still fine to make your breakfast” she said, greeting him as she did most mornings. But different. He just nodded, slapped her ass and smiled. He meant no harm. Delilah always joked he was a blue collar man stuck in a middle class life. He was strait-laced, down-to-earth. Delilah served him his eggs then said “the new nanny is already upstairs waking up the children” and rushed out.

Reginald like to get into the office early. His home felt so empty and he liked to get some work done before everyone showed up. Plus his favourite breakfast was donuts and spiked coffee at his desk which might lead to some judgement. Especially how he acted whilst consuming it. As he got to the end of both an important form and his fourth donut he let out a massive belch then buttoned and zipped his pants. Everyone would be showing up soon. Especially his new secretary who made a point of saying how punctual she is during the interview. He could feel some gurgling in his stomach but those would have to wait at least until the new girl was situated.

And what a new girl she was. Reginald would freely admit he partially hired her for her looks but seeing a gal in an A-line dress and a ponytail was very different to seeing her in an almost skin tight blouse and skirt with heels. Plus what he would never admit was that part of her appeal was the visible belly rounding out her skirt. Reginald realised he was staring then gathered himself, shook her hand and got her sat down at her desk. Pansy wasn’t looking too bad either today. But he needed to press on regardless of what his animal urges told him.

This new hire wouldn’t be so hard to train. Pansy knew Reginald better than to expect someone brainless just because she had “assets” but this Delilah woman seemed almost a fantasy. The wisdom of a mother of five kids, a chemical engineering degree and fast, clear handwriting. Plus she wasn’t exactly complaining about having a curvaceous, cutesy coworker. Pansy didn’t exactly proclaim the poems of Sappho but she had kissed and handled just as many old secretaries as Reginald had.

Pansy knew today wouldn’t be very productive. In between the constant questions from Delilah who was as inexperienced as she was diligent, Reginald’s clearly bloated stomach catching her eye whenever he blustered through their office to the rest of building and the near constant siren song of their offices seemingly endless coffee and snacks she was plenty busy. At roughly three the biggest distraction of them all presented itself. Delilah ran in the direction of the bathroom after no bathroom breaks all day and constant coffee top ups. After 15 minutes she decided to go check on her.

Delilah sat on the toilet dumbfounded. Her husband regularly talked about having six cups a day but not a word about its “side effects”. Another burp slipped out of her throat. The ladies toilet was thankfully empty so she could be unladylike in private. It still felt so shameful though. She rubbed the red marks on her taut belly. At home her sensitive stomach was no issue, with the kids at school she was mostly alone so could just shut the windows and ride it out. Plus these new clothes were much tighter. She pushed down on her navel and let out a stream of farts.

“Delilah are you okay? Are you having woman’s issues?” Shit. Her coworker Pansy may be a frequent snacker but she still stayed the ever poised professional. Delilah in that moment resigned to her fate of being fired “uurp no. I think I frrrt had too much coffee” Pansy would find out soon enough. “Open the door I can help you” Delilah opened the door, desperate to get it over and done with but instead Pansy shut and locked the stall door and asked if she could unbutton Delilahs blouse. She nodded trying to not let the jostling lead to burping in her coworkers face. Pansy did so then asked if she could massage Delilahs belly. Delilah nodded again and quickly found herself in a trance as Pansy’s cool fingers lulled her instantly. She sat completely blissed out and barely aware that she had forgone all pretence and was currently letting out a stream of loud burps, farts and moans.

Reginald loved meetings. Most people found them a distraction from work at best but they were his favourite part of the job. It helped being the boss. He loved charming clients, talking to his people and looking at presentations. When he started gaining weight after his marriage imploded he was nervous that he wouldn’t be taken seriously but the numbers had actually jumped upwards. Maybe his new soft physique was more relatable. The one issue was his new found appreciation for food left him feeling gassy and bloated in meetings which was an unwelcome distraction. Especially today. His stomach had chosen today, the day he had three meetings and a new hot secretary to launch a full offensive.

After his last meeting of the day he snuck into the supply closet next to the meeting room and immediately undid his pants. Then making sure the door was locked he cocked his leg and let out a stream of farts. They absolutely reeked. What could have lead to this? As he jiggled his belly to work up some burps he looked down. He did not remember his belly being that big. Maybe he’d gone too far. But he also noticed something else. He was rock hard. Ever since he started eating more and stopped going to all those couples activities he’d noticed that he felt fantastic when he acted gross. He felt horny, he felt manly, he felt the best about himself he had in years. As he belched and patted his dick he debated in his head his persona as a charismatic gentleman. Maybe post-divorce he could evolve. Or more aptly devolve. Pansy all ready knew about his antics and didn’t seem to think less of him. “Buuuuuuurrrrrrpp” for now though the shame lived on.

Pansy was in heaven. A cute, fat girl burping in her face? Yes. Said girl also letting out comedically loud farts. Yes. Her sweet blissed out facial expression was the cherry on top. The only thing that could have made it better was if she could kiss and squeeze Delilah too. She was getting pretty gassy herself as her late lunch settled but she figured Delilah wouldn’t mind. She let out her own duo of loud burps followed up by loud fart. Delilah looked even happier so Pansy laughed it off and burped again. And again. And again. God it felt good. Then something unexpected happened. Delilah kissed her on the mouth.

Things escalated quickly. The next thing Pansy knew she was farting into Delilah’s lap and grabbing her breasts. Delilah pulled her in and burped in her face. Then there was another complete blur and they were both running back to the office holding their blouses closed. They ran into the office and shut the door. “Reginald won’t be back from his meetings for a while” Pansy explained before pulling Delilah to the floor and stripping off both their blouses and bras. Pansy then got onto all fours and farted in Delilah’s face. Then she sat onto her lap and they started kissing and humping each other in a flurry of movement. Neither of them thought to check the clock. Or to even think about their boss until a gruff voice behind them said “uurp my office is more comfortable”.

“Are we in trouble?” “Like Hell you’re in trouble. That was the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen” Pansy grinned. “I knew that you were a pig boss but I’m impressed” . It was in that moment that Delilah’s brain finally noticed his unbuttoned trousers, his bloated belly, the flask in his hand, the steady stream of farts, the food stains on his shirt and the fact that his other hand was in his underwear. Delilah knew what to do. She pulled him into a hug, kissed him on the mouth then pushed against his belly. “It’s only fair to return the favour piggy” Reginald burped in her face then pulled her into his office. Pansy followed sitting on Reginald’s desk. Delilah felt hot all over. She stripped off the last of her clothes, then took the flask from Reginald’s hand and took a swig. “Atta girl! I love you already”. Pansy hugged her as Delilah burped and said “solid hiring decision. Bo-uurrp-sss”

Both Reginald and Pansy stripped the rest of their clothes then Reginald lied down on his desk and Delilah sat on his pelvis. Then as Pansy wheeled toward her she pulled her up and Pansy sat behind her and wrapped her legs around her. Delilah pulled Pansy’s hands onto her belly. Then Delilah started rubbing Reginald’s hairy gut. They burped at the same time as Pansy let out a rippling fart that shook them both. Delilah and Reginald continued to burp at each other as Pansy humped Delilah desperately. Reginald leaned upwards and grabbed Pansy’s ass. Delilah grabbed Reginald’s dick and placed it inside herself then started pushing herself into him.

Reginald missed his flask. Sure it was sexy as hell when Delilah drank from it but that was the last of his booze. And he was starving. But he still had a good buzz going so there was no reason to worry. He focused on his throbbing dick inside Delilah’s warm tight pussy and Pansy’s ass in his hands. He thrusted into Delilah and with each thrust he felt more and more like he was floating. Both of them smelt so good. Of sweat and floral perfume and ink and cabbage. He let out another loud belch and felt his eyes roll back into his head as he came. He screamed with pleasure “wy pierdolone anioły!”, gripping Pansy’s ass so hard she screamed in pain.

Reginald kept thrusting until eventually he saw Delilah screw up her eyes then felt the shaking sensation of her body as she finished. Reginald sat up as Delilah and Pansy got down. Delilah stroked his face and said “lie down love” he could feel himself sobering up but he still settled back down. Delilah then knelt on the floor next to his face while Pansy stood up on the other end. Pansy started rubbing his belly with one hand and his leaky cock in the other. Delilah started kissing him and burping in his mouth. Reginald returned the favour and she grabbed him by the neck and started kissing him with tongue. God he was so lucky he got to hire such hot girls.

Pansy loved the feeling of hot cum on her hands. But the heavy petting had to end at some point. She was cold. She tapped Reginald on the hip then stopped rubbing him. She thought about Delilah and Reginald’s bodies. Reginald had gotten so hot since his divorce. In between the extra 50 pounds, the whiskey habit loosening him up and his new slobby ways he had gone from merely handsome to a certified cutie. Then there was Delilah with her loose hair and nervous manners she was so sweet but her rebellious streak was powerful and sexy. Both of them were so hot.

Her sweater felt softer than usual when she placed it on her shoulders. “I farted on it” Delilah winked. She’d been sat in the office chair in her underwear and Reginald’s blazer for a while now. She had just been staring into space smirking. Reginald had curled up on the floor in the corner. He did that. Reginald got guilty after sex especially since he usually had to get drunk before hand to not feel guilty in the first place. “Did you have fun love?” Pansy said while she sauntered toward her. “What does this mean for me?” “It means you like hot people. Doing hot things. Don’t worry about it.” “But you’re so…so different. And not just in good ways. You’re so forward! And you’re kind of rude.” “Fair. But just because you’re into girls and weirder stuff doesn’t mean you’re mean like me”. “Huh-hmm I guess. Can one of you call me a cab home I missed the bus.” “I’ll do it. See you tomorrow!” Pansy ran to her desk and called Delilah a taxi while she got dressed. When Delilah went home she walked feeling the night breeze on her face. With those two around she’d need the walk to calm down after work.

They were the most effective, and disgusting, administration team I tepruar Metals ever had.

#burp kink #fart kink #belly kink #eructo #eprocto #queer ns/fw #queer feedism #belly burp #farting #burps #burp #burping

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