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oddinary4bts · 12 days ago

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Be With You | ch 6

☆summary: who knew that the hot guy you've been paired with for a class project is also a kind soul? Certainly not you, and you feel yourself falling even though you know you shouldn't. Will it be your demise, or will it all work out in the end?

☆pairing: Choi San x female!reader

☆rating: 18+ (minors DNI, this chapter contains mature content)

☆genre: slow burn strangers to lovers, college!au, smut, angst and fluff

☆warnings: an ikea trip, way too much domesticity, sydney and yunho <3, our favourite dimples, cursing, they watch Deadpool and Wolverine, mentions of alcohol, mentions of Jungkook, explicit content: hickey, ass slapping, fingering, clit play, oral sex (female and male receiving), edging, grinding, jerking off, big dick!San, protected sex, nipple play, praising, a hint of degradation

☆word count: 14.1k

☆series masterpost

☆add yourself to the taglist here

☆a/n: hope you guys like this chapter!!! the simps be simping if you know what i mean ;) and thank you to @moonleeai for your amazing work as my beta reader, I love you and am forever thankful for you <3

☆☆☆☆☆

Cold snowflakes Withered down Until you bloom As a spring flower I'll be with you

Be With You, Ateez (english translation)

☆☆☆☆☆

Saturday, October 12th

You don’t know how San convinced you to go with him to Ikea.

But then again, you doubt you’d ever be able to refuse those sparkly eyes of his, especially when they’re paired with his slight pout. Indeed, the second he’d regarded you like a lost puppy when you’d initially denied the invitation, you folded and accepted to accompany him, if only so that he stopped looking so sad.

That, and the fact that you were supposed to work on your project and that he was refusing to let it go as long as you didn’t say you’d go with him.

Obviously you still managed to get some work done - you really are a great team with Choi San - even though you have to admit that his lips and his dimples have grown even more distracting now that you’ve started getting accustomed to their taste. Luckily for you, San had insisted on meeting at the library, and he sat on the other side of the table the whole time, so close yet too far to touch.

He walked you home after and kissed you outside, but this time you weren’t able to convince him to come sleep over, since he was supposed to meet up with Jongho at the gym after your study session.

You push the thoughts away as you stretch in bed, the early hour mocking you. You rarely get up early on the weekend, but San insisted to go first thing in the morning so that you could build the furniture in the afternoon, and then he mentioned that he had an activity planned for the two of you, as a thank you for helping him.

He’s convincing. It’s annoying, but Choi San is highly convincing when he wants something. You can’t even blame him - you do want to spend time with him anyway, no matter how vulnerable being with him makes you feel.

You’re surprised you haven’t gotten scared yet. Every day you expect to wake up with fear in your heart regarding your… situationship with San, yet so far you’ve only been filled with excitement when it comes to him, the sweet taste of the honeymoon phase far too strong for the fear to take hold in you.

It’s also been three years since you got broken beyond repair by Jungkook. Maybe it’s a sign that you’ve healed, that your mind and body are finally ready to move on despite the heartbreak that Jungkook caused you.

Or maybe it’s like your mother once said - when you meet your person, you’ll know. And even though it’s only been a few weeks, you think you know.

You just hope you won’t be proven wrong.

You glance at your phone, turning off the blaring alarm. It’s 8 AM, and San is coming to pick you up in thirty minutes, so you quickly get up to get ready. You prepared your outfit yesterday night, so you throw your clothes on quickly, and then put a bit of makeup on to hide your tiredness. You stop by the kitchen next to eat a quick breakfast - hard-boiled eggs in soy sauce - and then you brush your teeth.

You’re ready just in time for San to text you that he’s downstairs, and you’re putting your jacket on by the front door when Sydney walks out of Yunho’s room, yawning.

You look at her, cocking an eyebrow, and then she glances down at herself.

“Whoops,” she lets out.

“You could have at least put some pants on,” you tease her.

She’s indeed only wearing one of Yunho’s shirts, but luckily for you, it reaches to her mid-thighs, so she’s not putting on too much of a show.

“Shut up, I’m just going to the bathroom,” she grumbles with a light blush on her cheeks, and you just laugh at her

“Lucky you,” you let out. “I’m heading out now.”

“We might see each other tonight,” she says as you bend down to put your shoes on.

You look up, meeting her gaze. “Huh?”

“San told Yunho that we could come with you guys at the arcade,” she explains. “He didn’t tell you?”

You frown, and then realization hits you. “Oh, that’s what he’s planning.”

“Did I just spoil a surprise?” Sydney says with a wince.

“Don’t worry about it,” you reassure her. “I don’t think he’ll mind since he invited you guys.”

You’re not sure she’s reassured, but she looks far too tired to apologize further. So you finish putting your shoes on, grabbing your purse and then waving goodbye to her as she just stays there, leaning against Yunho’s door.

You’ll give her shit for the hickey on her neck later today.

*****

San is waiting right in front of your building, his hazard lights on as he couldn’t quite park on the side of the road. He waves at you with a bright smile on as he sees you walking out, and your lips curve upwards as you wave back, jogging to his car.

“Good morning!” you greet him as you get into the car, settling down in the passenger seat.

You pull on the seatbelt, though San stops you with a hand on your jaw, turning your face towards him. You’re startled for half a second before he’s pecking your lips, but then you quickly melt, giving into the kiss.

It’s sweet, yet shorter than you’d wish it to be. It still leaves you with your cheeks burning and heart beating wildly, especially as San pulls away, pecking your forehead before he sits back into his seat.

“Good morning,” he greets you back.

“What was that for?” you ask as you put your seatbelt.

He winks at you, dimples on display. “Couldn’t help myself.”

“Right, right.”

He just grins, full of sweet innocence that makes you want to kiss him again, and this time kiss him good, but he turns off his hazards, driving away a second later.

“Hope you’re ready,” he tells you.

“How far is it again?” you ask, grabbing your phone out of your purse as if it’ll bring the answer.

“It’s a forty-five minute drive,” San replies. “We can stop at a café if you want something to eat on the way.”

“I should be okay, I ate breakfast before you picked me up.”

He nods, and you assume he’s also eaten because he doesn’t mention a café again, instead asking you how your evening was yesterday.

You spent it at home with Sydney, talking about everything and nothing as you watched some music videos on YouTube, which quickly led to an impromptu karaoke session interrupted by Yunho coming home from the bar.

Indeed, the boys all decided to hang out last night, and though both San and Yunho claimed they tried to get you invited, the others were firm on the evening being boys only. Not that you mind - you hadn’t hung out with just Sydney in a while, so it was great to spend time with your best friend.

You even baked some sugar cookies that you ate far too quickly, and that kept you up for the first part of the night once you’d headed to bed.

“Why is there traffic?” San complains ten minutes later, when his car comes to a halt behind another car on the highway.

You glance at him, the pout on his lips endearing. “It’s fine,” you reassure him, patting his thigh. “At least we’re together.”

You’re about to pull your hand away when he drops his on top of yours, interlacing your fingers. “You know what, you’re right.” He brings your hands up, pecking the back of yours. “Thanks again for coming with me.”

You gulp, the affectionate gesture taking you by surprise, and you find yourself unable to reply for a few seconds, your mind swirling with your budding feelings for Choi San.

“Of course,” you eventually reply. “I couldn’t abandon you.”

“You’re my knight in shining armour,” San teases.

You chuckle, and then a new song comes on the radio, one that you and Sydney sang far too loud yesterday. You immediately turn the volume on, bright smile on your lips as you glance at San.

“I love this song!”

He just smiles back, and then you’re singing. He joins in, and his voice is clear, stable, far more beautiful than yours could ever be.

San sings like you imagine crystal sounds like.

“Damn,” you tell him when the song ends. “When were you going to tell me that you’re a good singer?”

He throws you a quick look before focusing on the road in front of him again. “I don’t sing well.”

“Bullshit.”

He chuckles, though it’s shy, his cheeks tinting with pink. “I really don’t.”

“Shut up,” you insist, pulling your hand away from his so that you can fold your arms on your chest. You frown slightly, lips jutting out in a small pout. “Just take the compliment.”

That makes him laugh, and you can’t help but smile at the sound, especially as he meets your gaze with those sparkling eyes of his, even as the dimples on his cheeks steal your attention.

“Well thank you, then,” he says. “I appreciate it.”

He looks awkward saying so, and you can’t blame him - you too are shit with compliments. So you make a mental note to shower him with compliments, if only so that you can help boost his self-esteem.

Not that you think Choi San is insecure. On the contrary, his cockiness and easy flirting tell you that he’s more on the confident side, but you still want to make him happy.

Gosh. You’d laugh at yourself if you heard your thoughts for him a year ago.

It ends up taking a little over an hour for you to arrive to Ikea, but San manages to get parking near the doors, which is a relief considering that it started raining five minutes ago. You quickly jog to the building together, and then you’re engulfed with warmth as you step in, San grabbing a cart by the door.

“In case we get some decorations,” he offers as an explanation.

You nod your head, and then you follow him in as you walk into the Ikea proper.

It’s overwhelming - the store is huge, and you get lost in the maze that it’s made of, though the presence of San at your side is comforting. You end up messing around in the couch section, trying every couch as if your life depends on it. It leads to a lot of laughs - and a couple side eyes from the other customers - but you can’t bring yourself to care.

You think you gain a couple more months of life whenever you hear San laughing after all.

“I don’t think that one would work with Byeol,” you say as you motion to a dark green couch that looks like it’s straight out of a Victorian house. “But goddamn, I love it.”

San smirks. “It’s giving rich.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “This is Ikea, how rich can it be?” But then you gaze at the price tag, your eyes widening. “Never mind.”

“One day,” San says solemnly as he too takes a look at the price tag, wincing at the expensive price. “One day we’ll have a fancy house with all the fancy furniture that you want.”

His words have your heart racing in your chest. Knowing he’s imagining a future with you…

You can’t help the grin on your lips as you follow him towards what appears to be different models of bedrooms.

“You’re adorable,” San says with a soft voice, wrapping his arm around your shoulders to press a quick kiss on the top of your head.

“So are you,” you fire back. “Already imagining us living together.”

“Why not?” he says, stopping in his tracks to let a woman and her kid pass in front of the cart. “That’s most of the fun of being at Ikea.”

“And here I thought it was because of me.”

San laughs as he starts pushing his cart forward again, and you follow him quickly. “It is because of you. How can I help myself when I have a beautiful girl with me?”

You flush red. “Ew, you’re so cheesy.”

He grins, winking at you. “And you love it.”

You don’t have it in you to deny it, so you just roll your eyes as you make your way to the bedroom section.

San already knows what night table he wants - he just wants a second one like the one he already has - and so he quickly finds it, noting down the name of it before you continue your journey in the store. He ends up choosing a small desk for the walk-in closet as well, and then you’re walking through the kid section, your eyes catching on a plushie.

“Oh my God!” you let out, grabbing the small, pink pig. “It’s adorable.”

San just smiles at you as you put it in the cart. “Are you really buying this?”

“No, you’re buying it for me,” you shoot back with a wink.

He burst out laughing, grabbing the plush toy and putting it back where you took it. You make to fold your arms on your chest in protest, but he pulls on your arm, making you fall in his embrace.

“I’ll get you something better tonight,” he says as a promise, pecking the top of your head.

You’re frozen. Before him, you would have been horrified at the public display of affection, but with him it just feels right. Feels like you should always be falling into his arms, if only so that he can peck the top of your head after.

You wrap your arms around his waist, tilting your head back to look at him. “Yeah.”

He nods, delivering a sweet kiss to your forehead next. “Yes, I promise.”

“And let me ask,” you say, a smirk slowly growing on your lips. “Where are you going to get me something better?”

“You’ll see,” he replies enigmatically, taking a step back.

So he’s unaware that Yunho told Sydney, and that Sydney told you. Not wanting to disappoint him and ruin the surprise, you pretend like you don’t know, instead grumbling, “It better not be some furniture making.”

“What about baby making?”

You stumble on your feet, your cheeks flushing red as you punch him in the arm. He only laughs, a wide grin on his lips as he looks at you.

“Jesus fuck, San, we’re in public,” you grit through your teeth.

He shrugs, looking around the two of you. “Does it look like somebody heard?”

It really doesn’t, yet the embarrassment clings to you as he starts walking away, pushing the cart towards the decoration section. Your cheeks are still tinted with pink by the time he stops to grab a decorative pillow, showing it to you.

“Do you think this would look good on the couch?” he asks.

You take a deep breath, pursing your lips. “I think so? Would Byeol be okay with it?”

“She’ll probably sleep on it,” San says, and he immediately drops the pillow in the cart, adding another one a second later. “Sold.”

You laugh, your embarrassment finally dwindling away, and then you continue to walk through the store, stopping when San sees a fake plant that he claims would look good in his bedroom, on the new night table he’s getting.

As he says so, your eyes are attracted to three little black sculptures of a bear, a squirrel and a bunny, and you point towards them, smiling excitedly.

“This!” you just say.

San looks towards you, his brow creased in confusion. “Huh?”

“You have to buy this.”

He eyes the little statues, cocking his head to the side. “Where would I put them?”

“With the plant!”

He chuckles at your enthusiasm. “Byeol will probably make them fall.”

You pout, offering him the best puppy eyes you can muster up. He rolls his eyes, a smile playing at the corners of his lips, and he grabs a box, putting it in the cart.

“Happy?” he asks you.

You nod your head quickly, grinning. “Hell yeah.”

You burst out laughing at the same time, and then you’re heading to the warehouse area. There’s no trolley available for the boxes with the furniture, so you end up playing Tetris in the cart, managing to get everything in there. You have to hold onto one of the boxes though, and you do so as you head to the register so that San can pay.

Luckily for you, by the time that’s done and you step outside, the rain has stopped, and though puddles litter the ground, you make your way to the car without getting wet. San opens the trunk, and then puts the backseat down so that you can fit the boxes in the car. It’s a tight fit, yet you manage to close the trunk, putting the cart away before finally climbing into the car, right in time with the rain starting again.

“This weather sucks,” you drily comment, and San chuckles next to you.

“Perfect weather to be stuck inside all day building some furniture.”

You groan. “You’re really going to make me do this?”

To your surprise, San misses your teasing tone. Indeed, he pouts, quickly saying, “Well, you really don’t have to help. Sorry if I made you feel like you have to.”

“San!” You grab his hand to attract his attention. “I was just teasing you. Of course I’ll help.”

He smiles victoriously, and you only then understand the manipulation that just happened. He flicks your nose as he winks, and then he’s turning the key in the ignition, and his car comes to life.

“I think I might hate you a little,” you grumble.

He laughs heartily. “You really don’t.”

If only he knew how right he is. Because there’s not a single ounce of your body that holds hate for the man sitting next to you.

The drive back ends taking just as long as the drive to the store, and San insists on stopping at a café to grab something to eat - for strength for the furniture making, he claims. You don’t complain, your stomach grumbling as you’re waiting in line. San teases you for it, and you narrow your eyes at him, trying your best at glaring but failing miserably.

“You’re adorable,” San says, and he grabs your hand, pulling you into his side. “Thank you for coming to Ikea with me.”

Your heart flutters, and your glare melts into a soft smile as you reply, “Thank you for inviting me.”

He simply nods, pulling you to the counter when the person in front of you finishes ordering.

“Hello,” the barista says. “What can I get for you?”

San glances at you quizzically, and you get the cue, smiling at the barista. “Huh, I’ll have…” you trail off as you scan the menu behind her. “The ham and brie sandwich, please.”

She nods. “Do you want it grilled?”

“Yes.”

She smiles, glancing towards San once before setting her gaze on you again. “Anything to drink?”

“Just a hot chocolate, please.”

She puts your order in, and then San tells her he’ll have the same thing. He pays, refusing to split the bill, and then he pulls you to the side as you wait for the order to be ready. It doesn’t take too long, and San guides you to a table in the corner so that you can eat.

“Shouldn’t we head to yours?” you ask as you sit.

“Gotta eat these sandwiches while the cheese is melted,” he points out, and he immediately takes a bite of his.

You chuckle, nodding. “Wise move.”

You eat quickly, sharing light conversation here and there while rain lashes at the vitrine of the café. It makes for a gentle ambiance, especially with the soft indie music playing in the background, and you end up lazing around for a little while once you finish eating, sipping on your hot chocolate while San tells you about his latest work-out at the gym, saying that you should go with him.

“One day,” you say. “One day I’ll go with you.”

He pouts. “That sounds like you won’t.”

You wink at him, taking a sip of hot chocolate as you remain silent. He just chuckles, and then the conversation moves to the midterm that you have next week, and the study session you’re supposed to have with him tomorrow.

Though Wooyoung and Sydney are also supposed to come, as you’ll study at the library.

A little while later, when your hot chocolate mugs are emptied and you can’t make any excuses for staying here any longer, you head back to the car, San driving you both back to his place.

You’re not surprised when he parks his car in an underground parking lot - his building is kind of fancy after all. He manages to lock one of the elevators for your use too, and so you’re able to bring everything up at the same time, sweat beading on your forehead by the time you’re in his apartment, watching Byeol as she sniffs at one of the cushions curiously.

“Shit,” you let out, wiping your brow. “That was a work-out.”

San snorts. “That does not count as a work-out.”

You ignore him, adding, “I didn’t even have to go to the gym with you.

“That’s mean,” San whines with a pout on his lips, and you just tap his chest as you shrug off your coat, draping it on one of the dinner table chairs.

“Sorry not sorry,” you sing-song, and you’re about to turn around to look at him when he wraps his arms around your waist.

“I’ll make sure you’re sorry later,” he purrs in your ear, and then he pushes your hair off to gain access to your neck. He kisses your skin once, teasing it with his teeth, and then he’s pulling away, slapping your ass. “Let’s get to work.”

Your mind is spinning as you glance at him, heart beating out of your chest. “What the fuck was that?”

He shrugs. “Guess you’ll find out later.”

You swallow, your dry throat almost making you choke.

Guess you will find out later, after all.

*****

“Holy fucking shit,” San curses. “Are we dumb?”

You’re a laughing mess where you’re lying on the ground. “I told you you were supposed to put that there.”

San groans, plopping on the floor next to you. “Who knew making a desk was so complicated?”

You turn your head to look at him. “I don’t think it’s supposed to be complicated. I just think we’re bad at it.”

He snorts, nodding his head in agreement. Byeol trots towards him, climbing on his lap. He mindlessly pet her, the cat starting to purr almost immediately as she lies down on him.

“At least we finished the night stand.”

You’re currently in the walk-in closet, and you glance through the door towards the night table, and the plant resting on top of it.

“And my little statues are perfect,” you declare with a tired smile.

“Just the perfect touch to the whole decor,” San agrees.

You nod, and then you shut your eyes, sighing deeply. “Maybe we just need to take a nap.”

“Nu-uh,” San lets out. “We have to finish before we go out tonight.”

“Go out?” You sit up, glancing down at yourself. “I’m definitely not dressed to go out tonight.”

Byeol suddenly slaps San’s hand, trotting away as if she never wanted to be petted to begin with. “I promise your clothes are perfectly okay for the place I’m bringing you.”

You hum, tilting your head to the side. “I’ll have to trust you on that.”

He nods with a smile, and you’re relieved you didn’t tell him that you know about the arcade. He looks so excited about it, and you’d hate to kill that sweet smile on his lips.

“Alright,” he says, slapping his thighs once. “Let’s do this.”

“Let’s go!”

To manage to finish the desk, you end up having to remove some pieces to fit the one San forgot. It doesn’t take too long, and about half an hour later, the desk is done, finally resting against the wall in the place San chose for it.

“I’ll put the clothes in there some other time,” he says as he glances at the pile of neatly folded clothes under the ones that are hanging on the other wall. “I’m done for today.”

He gets up, offering you his hand to take so that he can pull you up. You gladly accept it, stumbling a little as his strength almost sends you flying into him. He steadies you with his hands on your shoulders, laughing at your expense, and then you’re following him to the living room, where you find Byeol now lying down on one of the cushions.

San sits next to her, spreading his thighs as he leans back against the couch. The sight strikes you dumb for a moment, and you just stand in the doorway to his bedroom, looking at him. He cocks an eyebrow, a smirk growing on his lips.

“Need help with something?”

It brings you out of the trance he’s seemingly put you into, and you walk over to him, sitting next to him. You grab the cushion next to you, holding it to your chest.

“So when are we leaving?” you ask.

He pulls out his phone from his pocket, glancing at it before tossing it on the couch. “We’ve got like two hours and a half to kill.” He wets his lips, turning his head towards you. “Want to watch a movie?”

You nod in agreement, and San gets up to grab the TV remote under the TV. He comes back a second later, plopping down even closer to you, his thigh pressing against yours. You readjust yourself, leaning your back against the armrest as you put your legs on his lap.

He glances at you as the TV turns on, the Netflix logo appearing. “So I’m a footrest now?”

“Yup.”

He laughs, the dimple on his cheek attracting your eyes like a moth to the flame when he looks at the TV again. “Alright, I see how it is.”

You chuckle, and then you focus on the screen too, as you try to choose a movie. You both don’t find anything to your liking, so San switches to Disney plus, and your eyes widen when you see that the Deadpool and Wolverine movie is now streaming.

San senses your excitement, an endeared laugh falling from his lips, and then he turns it on, putting the remote down next to him before he shifts lying down with his head on your chest.

You worry at your bottom lip as you try to hide the shy smile that appeared on your mouth, but San doesn’t even look your way, making himself comfortable on your chest while you wrap your arms around his neck.

“If I’m the footrest, then you’ll be the headrest,” he says once he finds a good position.

You snort, patting his head. “It’s a perfect deal if I do say so myself.”

The movie starts, interrupting further conversation, and you find yourself glued to the action as it immediately lights up the screen, a snowy field reminding you of the Logan movie appearing.

You want to pat yourself on the shoulder when you realize that, as a matter of fact, it really is the field from the ending of the Logan movie.

The movie is fun, Deadpool’s quips and jokes making the both of you laugh. You’re distracted, fully focused on the scenes unfolding in front of your eyes, when San sits up, almost startling you.

“Where are you going?” you ask in a whine.

He laughs, getting up and then pecking your forehead. “Just going to the bathroom. Don’t wait for me.”

You don’t, watching Deadpool and Wolverine fighting against a horde of Deadpools, and San soon comes back, though this time he spreads your legs, making himself at home between them as he rests his head on your belly.

“That has to be uncomfortable,�� you tell him as you look down at him to see how his neck is bent at a weird angle.

“Never have been so comfortable in my life,” he says, and he turns his head to the side to press a light kiss on your abdomen.

Though you’re pretty sure that’s a lie, you don’t argue further, instead losing your hands in his hair as you watch the movie some more.

But San had something in mind. That much you can tell when his hand starts tracing lines on your thigh, going towards your inner thigh before moving back towards a less sensitive area. On and on he goes, hiking his fingers higher every time, but his position doesn’t allow him to reach what you assume is his destination.

“What are you doing?” you tell him when your thigh instinctively spasms from one of his motions tickling it.

“Just touching you,” he says casually. “Unless you want me to keep my hands to myself?”

He lifts his head, glancing at you. He’s got a mischievous sparkle in the depth of his gaze, and you slightly narrow your eyes, trying to interpret his features.

“So you don’t have anything in mind?” you ask, and you pull on his hair, just enough for his eyes to darken as he takes you in.

“Seems like someone else has something in mind, mmh?” he answers, and then he’s moving up, pressing his lips to yours.

As much as you were invested in the movie a minute ago, San steals your thoughts as he kisses you languidly, his knee between your legs. It brushes your pussy, and you let out a breathy sound, especially as he moves to your neck, pressing open-mouthed kisses on your sensitive skin.

You try to glance at the movie, but then he bites, and your eyes flutter shut as you softly moan.

“San,” you breathe out a second later.

He lifts his head, lips swollen from his ministrations on your neck. “Huh?”

“You’re distracting me.”

He chuckles, pecking your lips once. “Maybe that’s the goal, baby.”

Your throat dries out, your mouth falling open, but San is back on your neck. You can feel his smirk as he teases your skin with his teeth, and you instinctively turn your head to the side to allow him better access. He jumps on the occasion, kissing the spot where your jaw connects with your neck, and shivers run up and down your spine as you lose your hand in his hair.

It’s sinful. Something about the way San is kissing your neck, knee pressing against you, is so sinful that you start soaking your panties, eyes tightly shut now as you think about how his dick felt against you the other day.

It turns you on, far too much, and when San straightens to pull you down on the couch, you let him do it, pulling him back down by the collar of his shirt after so that you can kiss him with all the fire that’s starting to burn in your veins. He takes it in stride, kissing you with the same intensity, but he’s quick to disconnect your mouths so that he can go down your body instead.

You look down at him, chest going up and down quickly. Byeol has long disappeared somewhere, and you just hope she’s not going to come back anytime soon when San’s fingers stop on the button of your pants.

“Can I take this off?” he asks with such lust in his eyes you feel like the fire in you might be that of a star - an endless combustion that only leaves you burning for more.

“Yes.”

Your breathy answer brings a smirk to his mouth, and San wets his lips as he unbuttons your pants, pulling the zipper down after. He doesn’t look away as he starts pulling your pants down, and you lift your hips up to help him.

Your heart is racing in your chest as the fabric slowly goes down your legs, getting caught in your ankles. San still manages to get the clothing off, and then it’s falling to the floor as he freezes where he’s kneeling, looking down at you with ravenous eyes.

“Do you know how beautiful you are?” he asks as one of his fingers finds the inside of your ankle, and he slowly traces up your leg. “I could just sit here and look at you.” He reaches your knee, his gaze never leaving yours. “Could watch you looking at me like that-” your lower thigh “- Like I’m the only thing in the universe.” He stops at your inner thigh, tracing a circle. “But then I wouldn’t get to taste you, mmh?”

You gulp, nodding your head. It feels like you’re about to be devoured, and your pussy already tingles in anticipation.

“Do you want me to taste you?” he asks.

“Yes.”

He smirks, tilting his head to the side. “Good girl.”

And then he’s hooking his finger in your panties, brushing his knuckle against your clit. You moan at the sudden friction, yet it lasts for only a second as he holds your panties to the side. You’re already breathless, and you just look at him as he’s still staring at you.

“Something that you want?” he teases.

You want to curse at him, but all that you end up saying is, “Want your mouth on me.”

“Oh, you’ll get that.” It’s a promise. At least that’s what his dark gaze tells you, especially as he glances down at your pussy before looking at you again. “You’ll get plenty of that. But first…”

He trails off, words unnecessary when his finger goes back to your clit, circling the sensitive bundle of nerves. He then moves to your entrance, circling that too, collecting your wetness before he brings it back to your clit. He flicks at it, lightly, yet it’s like lightning bolts shooting up your spine.

“San…”

“Mmh?” he lets out.

He stops touching you for a second, but then his thumb replaces his finger, feeling even better. You’re at a loss for words, and your hips just instinctively move up as if looking for more friction.

“Greedy, are we?”

You want to hate him for the teasing, yet it just turns you on so much that you think he’ll make you come in no time. Especially as his thumb goes back down to your entrance, pushing in for half a heartbeat before he’s back on your clit.

He’s good. You were aware of that before, but San knows his way around your body already. He knows it so well he knows right when to accelerate and slow down, knows the right amount of pressure to put on your clit for it to not be too oversensitive.

“Fuck.” The curse falls from his lips, and your eyes flutter open as the couch mattress moves under you from him shifting.

All you can see is his dark hair, and then his tongue replaces his thumb, and your back arches off the couch.

“Easy, baby,” he tells you, laying a large hand on your belly to push you back down. “Let me take care of you.”

You whine as he blows on your pussy, though the whine dies in a choked sound as he pushes a finger in you, slowly. Your walls spasm around him, yet it’s so slow you don’t come undone, only moan his name as he slowly pulls his digit out, only to push it in again at the same infuriating rhythm.

“More,” you beg in between two pants.

He chuckles, and then his tongue is on you once more, devouring you like you might be his last meal on Earth. It’s so insanely good that the room starts spinning around you, and you shut your eyes to focus on the sensations, to focus on the way he’s slowly guiding you towards what you know will be a mind blowing orgasm.

He curls his finger, brushes the nutty spot inside of you and your orgasm comes crashing towards you…

Only to entirely stop in its tracks when San suddenly pulls away, kneeling between your legs again. The denied orgasm hurts, and you look at him with betrayal in your heart. He just kneels there, his bottom lip between his teeth as he stares at you beneath his lashes, his head tilted to the side.

“Didn’t I say I’d make sure you’re sorry earlier?”

You’re out of breath, and it takes you a moment to remind the comment he’d said after you teased him about not needing to go to the gym. “You can’t be serious.”

The frustration in your voice makes him laugh. “So what if I am?”

He pats your thigh, and then sits back against the couch, hand going to his lap as he readjusts his erection in his pants. You just lay there for a moment, pussy bared to his gaze.

But you won’t let him win. Indeed, you slip your hand between your legs, pressing your fingers on your swollen clit.

“Should I finish myself off, then?”

San freezes, and you watch a muscle feathering under his skin as he clenches his jaw once before relaxing. He looks at you, eyes going between your legs.

“Think you can make yourself come?”

To make a show of it, you start drawing circles on your clit, watching San as he watches you. It’s sinful, something you’ll likely be embarrassed about later, but you can’t bring yourself to care right now. Not when the orgasm is so close, and you already feel like you’re heading towards it again.

You see the moment San loses his restraint. His hand goes back to your pussy, and he’s quick to push a finger in as you keep your motions on your clit. The pleasurable intrusion is enough to send you flying towards your orgasm, especially as he starts pumping his finger in and out of you at a steady rhythm.

You don’t know when you come. All you know is that you’re suddenly riding the wave, your mind going numb with ecstasy as your climax hits, your walls spasming around his finger. San milks the orgasm out of you, guides you through it as your head swirls with your release.

Once you come down, San pulls his finger out of you, bringing it to his lips to clean it. You’re too fucked out to truly realize what he’s doing, up until he laughs at the TV, and you look towards it too.

The credits are rolling down the screen, and you can’t help the small chuckle that falls from your lips.

“Oops,” you let out.

“Completely missed the ending,” San comments. “We’ll have to rewind it and finish it later.”

You take a deep breath, trying to steady your beating heart. “Why not now?”

“I assume you want to take a shower?”

You look down at him and at the not-so hidden tent in his pants. “I want to take care of you.”

He wets his lips. “Tonight, baby. I don’t think we have time right now.” You pout and, to your surprise, San bends down, pressing a quick kiss to your lips. “I promise we can start where we ended tonight, m’kay?” He pecks your nose next, and then he straightens, offering you his hand to take. “Let’s get you cleaned up and then let’s head to the restaurant.”

You already can’t wait to be home from the arcade later tonight.

*****

You don’t think you’ve eaten this much in months.

You sit back against your seat, patting your belly. San, sitting next to you, glances at you with a laugh on his lips, and you groan.

“I think I ate too much,” you say.

“It’s because Syd kept putting everything on your plate,” Yunho comments, sending a short glare to your best friend.

Short, because it melts to an endeared look the second she glances his way. “Yah, I was fair to everyone. You guys just ordered too much meat.”

“Gotta get the proteins in for the gains,” San jokes, flexing his arm.

You punch him in the shoulder. “Get lost, loser.”

“Hey!” San frowns, pouting his lips as he looks at you. You just grin while Sydney and Yunho laugh in the background, though you can tell that Sydney is holding back.

She’s not yet fully comfortable around San after all. Though she’d been last Saturday at the park, but you assume the alcohol helped her tremendously then.

The conversation moves to other subjects, slowly drifting towards when you should head to the arcade, and you look at San’s profile, barely even hiding the fact that you’re admiring him. He senses your eyes on him, and he turns to meet your gaze, a soft smile growing on his lips.

It seems there was a lull in the conversation, because Yunho and Sydney start on another subject, leaving you and San to just share a look.

There’s electricity in his gaze. Current that flows right to your bloodstream, making your heart beat faster. You can’t help the smile that overtakes your features and, unable to resist, you say, “I can’t wait to beat your ass at the arcade.”

“As if you stand a chance,” he teases back, but then he’s pouting. “I can’t believe Syd spoiled the surprise.”

You grab his hand, squeezing it once to chase the pout away from his features. “Don’t worry about it, I’m still really excited. It’ll be really fun.”

He nods once, leaning forward to press a kiss on your temple. Your chest warms, blood creeping to your cheeks as you feel your brother looking your way.

“I’ll get the bill and we can split later,” Yunho says, interrupting the sweet moment with San.

There’s a knowing smirk on your brother’s lips, like he’s proud of himself for ruining the moment, and your eyes send daggers his way as he raises a hand, meeting your waiter’s gaze.

After the bill is finally paid, you all head to the arcade, which coincidentally is right next door. You walk in to the sound of some old K-pop music playing in the background, a song you think might be from Big Bang blasting on the speakers. Mixed with the music are the distinct sounds of the many games that can be found at the arcade, like the racing games and the shooting ones. You think you might even spy a punching bag in the distance, but a crowd is huddled around it, and it’s hard to tell.

You head to the counter first, all of you investing twenty dollars in coins for the games, telling yourselves that you can always come back later if you want more. Excitement bubbles in your stomach, and you make your way to the first game, some zombie shooting game that leaves the group of you laughing and struggling to catch breath from your shared lack of aim. Yunho ends up being the one with the highest score, and his winning streak persists through the next three games, but you and San manage to beat Sydney and Yunho at the basketball game.

“Let’s do this one again!” you excitedly say, jumping in place as you point at the basketball game.

“No thanks,” Yunho drawls. “I think I’d rather do some racing games.” He looks at Sydney pleadingly, and then he grabs her hand. “Please come with me?”

She’s beaming under his attention - you doubt he needed to plead at all. “Yeah, let’s go beat your ass.”

His mouth falls open and then they burst laughing. You watch them as they walk away, a smile on your lips, and then you look at San to find him looking at you already.

“What?” you ask.

“You’re adorable.”

You blush. “Stop saying that.”

“No but…” he trails off. “You just look so happy for them, and I think it’s adorable.”

You purse your lips, scrunching your nose up. “I am really happy for them.”

San grabs your hand, pressing a kiss on your forehead. “I know.” He pulls away, unaware that he’s got your heart racing in your chest, and then he points towards the basketball game. “Let’s do this.”

You take a deep breath to tame the wild beats of your heart, and then you face the game again. “Should we play against each other?”

“Oh hell yeah,” San says, the challenge barely hidden from his words. “Get ready to have your ass handed to you.”

“Won’t happen.”

You both start the game at the same time, and you start shooting time and time again, barely ever stopping. The ball almost always falls through the hoop, and you laugh as you notice San missing three shots in a row.

“Yeah, it really won’t happen.”

“Yah, I've barely started,” San argues, and this time he starts to score again. He’s shooting faster than you - you might have been momentarily distracted by his arm as he throws the ball - and you blink out of your reverie, locking in on the game.

You end up losing to San by only a couple of points, and you fold your arms on your chest as he looks at you with a smug smile. You glare at him, waiting for him to tease you, but he just looks at you, the smile slowly turning endeared.

“Are you sad you lost?” he coos in a baby voice, and your mouth falls open in offense.

“Shut up!”

“Poor you,” he says, reaching for your cheeks as he tries to squeeze time.

You shriek, swatting his hand away. “Stand back!”

“Or what?” he teases, taking a step towards you.

You take one back, looking at him through narrowed eyes. “Or I’ll make you regret it later.”

It’s an echo of the same words he’s told to you before, and San just chuckles, his eyes darkening even though the neon lights of the arcade reflect in his gaze.

“Oh will you, now?” he purrs as he takes another step closer, and this time you don’t move back.

Though San is not extremely tall, he still towers over you, and you have to tilt your head back to keep the eye contact.

“Yeah.”

San just chuckles manly before suddenly pinching your cheek. You yelp, jumping back before you punch him in the shoulder, a curse on your lips. He just laughs at your expense, and then wraps his arms around your waist. You fight against his hold, though it soon dawns on you that you won’t win against him.

Not when it comes to strength. So you change tactics, your hands aiming for his sides, and you tickle him. The sound he lets out is all worth it, and you burst out laughing as he looks at you in betrayal before joining your laughter.

You love moments like these with him. Where you feel like the rest of the world fades in the background, and there’s just you and him. You’ve never really experienced that with anyone before - maybe with Jungkook, during the short-lived honeymoon period you’d had before it had become… what it had become.

The thought showers you in cold water, and you find yourself unable to focus as San leads you to the next game, and the one after that. You run out of coins to play soon after, and San offers to get you more. You just shrug your shoulders, pulling at some dry skin on your bottom lip while San looks at you, his features slowly filling with concern.

“Are you okay?” he asks as he grabs your hand, his thumb drawing soothing circles on the back of your hand.

“I…” You take a deep breath. “Yes, sorry. I got distracted.”

His lips stretch in a tight line before he nods, pulling you closer. “Do you want to go home?”

The disappointment in his tone brings you back to the current moment. To the fact that you’re likely ruining something he was proud to have organized, and you beat yourself up mentally.

“Shit, no,” you say. “We haven’t even played the claw machine yet.”

Though you don’t sound fully convincing, San gives you the benefit of the doubt, pecking your forehead softly before he says, “Let me get some coins for that and then I’ll win you the cutest plushie.”

He’s sweet. Adorable, caring, and oh so healing. Jungkook fades out of your mind at the soft smile on San’s lips, and you can’t resist his gravity. You pull him in, tiptoeing so that you can kiss him. And though it’s featherlight, barely more than a peck, it brings you back your excitement for the evening.

San really is healing, in all ways that matter.

Once he gets the coins, San comes back to you, grabbing your hand to pull you towards the claw machines. The bright lights catch your gaze as you walk in the two alleys, unable to choose which one you want to do first. San just lets you look around, a soft smile on his mouth as you excitedly point to a couple of them.

“These are so cute,” you say, pointing to the plushies in one of the claw machines. They’re all food inspired, ranging from pizzas to broccolis and even something you think is a milk shake.

“Do you want me to get you something from that one, then?” San asks.

You shake your head, pulling him behind you as you continue making your way to the next machine.

That one reveals many different animals, but it’s the cat that catches your gaze - it’s black, with huge, green eyes, and you point at it with a grin on your lips.

“Oh my God! Look at this one!”

San chuckles. “The cat?”

“It could be Byeol’s sibling!”

“Careful, she’ll get jealous.”

You narrow your gaze, letting go of San’s hand to fold your arms on your chest. “I want that one.”

“What’s the pout for?” he teases, laughing. “You look like a five year old.”

You slap his shoulder, rolling your gaze as you head closer to the claw machine. “How does this thing work?”

San stops behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist as he puts his head down on your shoulder. You feel your cheeks turning red, yet you don’t tell him to move - not when his embrace is so goddamn warm.

“Just gotta put the coins in,” San says. “Do you want to try first?”

“Mmh, I’ve never done this before,” you admit.

San puts a coin in the machine, and lively music starts playing as the claw moves to the top. “So,” he lets out. “You grab this, position it where you want it to be, and then you press on the button. The claw will go down and catch whatever you want.”

“Easy,” you say, though you wince. “I kind of knew that part though.”

He steps next to you, frowning slightly. “You said you’ve never done it.”

“It’s pretty self-explanatory, though,” you point out, chuckling as he sighs, looking away, his lips jutting out in a pout.

“Alright then, do it yourself.”

You laugh, pinching his side in a swift motion. He yelps, almost jumping in place, and then he’s attacking you, hands on your side as you shriek. You know you’re getting looks from the people around you, though you can’t bring yourself to care.

He’s far too healing to care about other people’s opinion.

“I yield, I yield,” you say a moment later, when it becomes clear that you have no chance to win against him.

He laughs, pecking your forehead as he lets go of you. “Now, let’s get that plushie.”

You nod once, taking a deep breath to calm your racing heart, and then you face the machine, rubbing your hands together.

“Let’s do this.”

*****

As a matter of fact, you don’t do this at all. You run out of coins as you both try and try to get the black cat - San manages to make it move once, but without any luck, and disappointment hits you when you realize that you don’t have another chance.

“Why is it so hard?” you whine.

San sighs, leaning against the machine. “This thing hates us.”

“I just wanted a cute plushie.”

“You’ll get it,” San says, pushing up from the machine. He stands straight looking down at you with a serious expression. “I’ll get it for you, just bear with me.”

“San, don’t-”

But he’s already walking away, heading to the reception area. You just stand there, watching him as he buys more coins, and then he’s walking back towards you, a determined look on his face.

“You didn’t need to get more,” you tell him as he stops next to you.

He shrugs his shoulders. “I promised I’d get you something tonight. I’m not going to give up that easily.”

You purse your lips, taking a deep breath. “Thank you.”

His eyes widen. “I haven’t even gotten it yet.”

“No, I know.” You pause, wetting your lips as you search for the right words to say. “I just never really had anyone willing to do something like this for me. Means a lot.”

San remains silent for a moment, looking at you with a sad look on his face. You have to remind yourself that he doesn’t know about Jungkook, doesn’t know about what your ex put you through…

You have to remind yourself that he can’t know, too.

“Then I really have to get it for you.”

You’re falling in love. Free falling, even.

Will he catch you when the time comes?

It takes San a few tries, and he’s on the fifth when he finally manages to get a hold of the plushie. You hold your breath as the claw moves up, and then towards the zone where it lets go the cat. It falls much like you are, only to end up in the right spot. San yells in victory, and he grabs the plushie, handing it to you.

“I told you I’d do it!”

He’s grinning from ear to ear, his dimples bright on his cheeks and fuck, you really are in love.

How is it that you fell in love with him so quickly?

You take the cat from his hands, holding it to your chest. You smile at San, thanking him profusely, and he just laughs, shaking his head as if he didn’t spend forty dollars just to get you a plush toy.

“Don’t worry about the money,” San says, tugging on your hand to pull you towards Sydney and Yunho in the distance. “I just really wanted to make you happy, and there is no price to that.”

“You’re so cheesy,” you say, though the smile on your lips is enough to tell him that you love it.

“For you?” He winks at you. “Yes. You could even say I’m a simp.”

The comment makes you laugh, and you just giggle as he keeps pulling you towards your brother and your best friend, who just look at you curiously, probably wondering how in hell did San manage to break through your walls so quickly.

It does scare you, too, but then again there’s just something about him…

“Are you guys ready to leave?” San asks as you stop next to the pair.

Yunho glances at Sydney. “What do you think?”

“I’m kinda tired,” she says. “But we don’t want to force you guys to go too.”

“Nah, I think we did everything we wanted,” you say. “Unless you wanted to do something else?”

San glances at you, his eyes falling to the plushie you’re clinging to. “Nah, all good. I already spent way too much for that plushie.”

“I told you not to spend so much!”

“But you wanted it!”

Yunho and Sydney just watch the two of you as you bicker, stifling their laughs. You notice their heavy gazes on your profile, so you turn your head, looking at them. “What?”

“Are you guys like twenty years married or something?” Yunho says.

Sydney elbows him in the ribs. “Shut up.”

“No but…”

“Shut up,” she repeats, and it’s your turn to laugh at their expense.

“As if you guys are any better,” you tease them.

Yunho just smiles proudly while Sydney's cheeks dust with pink.

The conversation dies for a few seconds until San finally speaks again, breaking the slight awkwardness as he asks if everyone is ready to go. You all agree, and so you make your way outside, and then to San’s car.

Because of course he drove Yunho and Sydney. His excuse was that you needed to get your stuff to be able to sleep over at his tonight, and you hadn’t argued, not when the invitation made you far happier than you’d dare admit it.

Though you’re pretty sure San noticed, but at least he didn’t tease you for it.

San’s car is parked somewhat far from the restaurant and the arcade, so you end up walking in the soft drizzle, trying to hide your face in the lapels of your jacket. It doesn’t quite work, and you’re freezing by the time you sit in the passenger seat while Yunho and Sydney slide into the backseat.

San is last to climb into the car, and he immediately puts the keys in the ignition, blasting the heat as soon as the engine rumbles to life.

“Why is it so cold so early in the year?” you complain as you rub your hands together. “It feels like we’re in November.”

“If we’re lucky, we’ll get some warmer weather like last week again,” Sydney says from the backseat.

“I’ve heard that it’s supposed to be cold this year.” It’s Yunho speaking, and you glance his way.

“Please don’t say that.”

“Good thing you’ve got someone to keep you warm now.”

The words out of your brother’s mouth make you cringe, and you flash him your middle finger while San just laughs beside you. And then San puts his hand on your thigh, distracting you from your brother, and you sit back in your seat, looking at the street as San pulls out of the parking lot, heading towards your apartment.

The drive isn’t too long. Twenty minutes later, San’s dropping your brother and Sydney off and, since you got your stuff already earlier, you wave them goodbye from the car, looking at them jogging to the front door. Once they’re in, San drives away again, and you glance at him.

The orange light of the streetlights casts shadows on his face, and he meets your gaze for a few seconds, his lips curving upwards in the softest of smiles.

“Hey,” he lets out.

You lean your head against the seat, the same smile making its way to your mouth. “Hey.”

He grabs your hand, pulling it to his mouth so that he can press a gentle peck on your knuckles. Butterflies take flight in your chest, and you welcome the feeling in, ignoring the thought of Jungkook that suddenly flashes in your mind.

You don’t want to be thinking about Jungkook. Not ever again, not after everything he did to you.

Everything you did to him, too.

Jungkook was sweet to you too, once. You’d thought he was the love of your life… but life had other plans for the two of you, didn’t it?

“What are you thinking of?” San asks, interrupting your train of thoughts, stopping it before it goes further.

You freeze, and then you look outside the window, watching the city as it passes by. “Nothing,” you lie. You take a deep breath, and then you look at him again. “Thank you for tonight. I really had fun.”

His dimples appear for a short moment, and then he’s also focusing on the road once more. “Of course. I really wanted to do an activity, and when I talked to your brother yesterday at the bar, I figured you’d be happy if I invited him and Syd too.”

“I really was,” you say, happy that your change of subject worked so well. “But I’m also happy we ended up spending some time just the two of us too, you know?”

He brings your hand to his lips again for another soft kiss. “I know. Me too.”

You smile at him, though this time the ghost of Jungkook doesn’t quite leave your mind. It lingers around, haunting you, rendering you far more silent than you usually are, and you don’t speak for the rest of the ride to San’s place, following him in once you get there.

You think San knows you have something on your mind. Maybe because you’ve spent a lot of time together in the last few weeks, and it’s bound to have made him learn how to recognize your emotions to a certain extent. But he doesn’t say anything, gives you the space to decide if you want to talk or not. You appreciate it - you don’t think you’d be able to talk to him about Jungkook. It would make everything that happened way too… real.

“Byeol,” San sing-songs when he opens the door to his apartment, and his cat comes trotting your way.

You only remember you still have the cat plush toy in your hands when Byeol stops a couple of steps away, her back arching.

“Look, we brought you a new friend,” you tell her, bending down to show her the plush toy.

She takes a hesitant step towards you, extending her neck in your direction so that she can sniff the toy. When she realizes it’s no threat, she moves away, rubbing herself on San’s legs.

“Well, I guess she doesn’t give a fuck,” San deadpans.

You laugh as he bends down, picking Byeol up and pressing a kiss on the top of her head. She tries to dodge, which obviously makes you laugh again, especially as she jumps out of his arms a second later to trot away.

“She clearly doesn’t,” you agree.

You take your jacket off, kicking your shoes off and putting the slippers San keeps for you on before walking in and plopping on the couch. San stops by the bathroom first, meeting you a minute later as you’re looking at the cat plushie, pulling on its extravagantly long tail.

“I didn’t notice,” you start as he plops down next to you, “but the tail is long.”

San nods, letting out a small laugh. “It kinda looks ridiculous.”

“Hey, don’t insult it!”

That just makes San laugh harder, and you roll your eyes, though an amused smile lingers at the corners of your mouth.

“What do you want to call it?”

You ponder for a time, and then you grab the tail again, raising it in the space between you and San. “Mr Snake.”

San’s gaze widens and he snorts. “Mr Snake?” You nod. “It’s a cat.”

“Don’t care didn’t ask,” you sing-song, and then you hug the plushie to your chest, sighing deeply. “I love you, Mr Snake.”

San rolls his eyes teasingly, but then he leans his head on your shoulder as he chuckles. “I guess it’ll be Mr Snake, then.”

You nod, and then you hand him the plushie. “It’s the perfect name.”

There’s a moment of calm silence as San grabs Mr Snake, cuddling it to his chest. It looks ridiculous in his big arms, softening his edges, and you can’t help the endeared smile on your lips.

It just becomes wider when San looks up at you, eyes sparkling. He’s beautiful like this, especially as he leans in, pecking your lips.

“I’ve been dying to kiss you all night,” he murmurs.

So have you. And you don’t think the words are necessary - actions speak a lot louder, so you kiss him, eyes fluttering shut. It’s awkward with the position, and San moves a moment later, straightening so that he can deepen the kiss. His hand finds the nape of your neck, holding you close as you tilt your head to the side. His tongue swipes at your bottom lip, prompting fireworks to burst in your heart, and you climb on San’s laps, cupping his cheeks.

The kiss is languid. The kiss is starting right where you’d finished earlier today, and you already feel warmth blooming in your core. San’s hands hold your waist, and then move down to your hips as he guides you on him. He grinds up at the same time, and his hardening length brushes against you.

You let out a soft moan, disconnecting from the kiss so that you can lean your forehead against his as you grind your hips again.

“Gosh, San,” you murmur, and he presses his mouth on yours once more, his tongue finding yours.

The taste of him makes you feel feral, the lust from before becoming so strong you can taste it in your throat.

There’s no turning back tonight.

“I want to go all the way with you tonight,” San whispers when he parts from your lips. One of his large hands finds the back of your head, and he pulls on your hair just enough to turn your head to the side, and then his lips are ghosting on the skin of your neck, sending shivers down your spine. You feel his mouth moving when he adds, “I want to know what it feels like to be in you.” He sucks on your neck, and you grind on him. “I want to hear you moan while I fuck you.”

“San…”

“I want my neighbours to know just how fucking good I’ll make you feel, mmh?”

He’s insane. And you love everything about it.

“Yeah?” you let out, and it’s your turn to pull on his hair as you force his head away from your neck and against the couch. “You’d like that?”

He wets his lips, smirking darkly. “I’d fucking love it.”

You bite at your lower lip, looking down at his glistening mouth. It’s sinful, his lips swollen from your ministrations, and you know it’s just the beginning.

“Wanna do it here, or in your bedroom?” you ask.

San straightens, and then his arm wraps around your waist as he gets up from the couch. You yelp, instinctively holding onto his neck, and San chuckles as he carries you to the bedroom, dropping you on his bed.

“Want you to be comfortable while I make you come,” he says as he rests one knee on the bed between your spread legs, his mouth aiming for yours for a short yet languid kiss. He pulls away a second later to take off his shirt, standing up so that he can unbuckle his belt.

It thuds as it hits the ground, and you just watch him through half-lidded eyes as he takes off his pants, too. Soon, he’s standing in just his black boxers, eyeing you like you’re his prey, and you sit up on the bed, hand reaching for him.

You rub his dick, stopping at his tip as you feel the precum that’s been seeping through the fabric of his boxers. He just lets you do it, looking down at you as you move back down on his length, and then back to the tip.

“You’re already so hard,” you praise.

“Do you know how many times I’ve imagined having sex with you?” he asks, and then he’s pushing your hand away. He pulls his boxers down, hand wrapping around his dick as he slowly strokes himself. “Every time I touch myself, you’re all I’m thinking about.”

It’s dirty. You think any other guy saying that would have creeped you out, but from San, it just makes the warmth in your core ignite into fire, and all you want is to ride his dick, to know how he’ll feel like inside of you.

“You know,” you let out, moving forward so that you can sit on the edge of the bed. “I always think of you when I touch myself, too.” Your hand replaces his at the base of his dick, and you squeeze him once.

“You do?” he asks, and you think you hear him gulp when you lean forward, your tongue swirling around his tip once.

His precum is salty, and it tastes like you’ll be drunk on him by the end of the night.

“Yeah,” you say, blowing a breath on his sensitive tip as you slowly jerk him off. “I’ve been thinking about your dick.” Your mouth closes around him, and you suck once. “Been thinking about riding you until I come.”

He grunts. “Baby, you should know that I’d rather do the work.” He pushes your hair to the side, holding it into a makeshift ponytail. “I want my princess to relax while I take care of her.”

“Your princess?” you repeat, your heart beating just a little faster even though you’ve never been big on pet names before.

“Or do you prefer I call you my little slut?”

You squeeze your thighs together as if looking for friction. “Then what would that make you?”

He leans down, stealing a quick kiss on your lips before he straightens again. “I’ll be anything you want me to be.”

Your heart stops in your chest, filling with so much warmth for him. Because you know he means much more than just sex. He means everything, and you don’t think you’ll ever be able to let go of him.

Will he break your heart like Jungkook did?

“San…”

“I…” he trails off as if he choked on the word. He says your name, and then adds, “I really want you.”

You’re convinced he wanted to say other words, yet you take those, your attention going back to his dick, and the angry, swollen tip that’s just been begging for attention. You move forward, lick at his slit to get another taste of him, and then you wrap your lips around him, hollowing your cheeks.

San groans, and you glance up to see he’s tilted his head back, revealing the proud column of his neck to you, and the Adam’s apple that adorns it. It looks hot, so hot to know that you’re the one making him feel good, and it unleashes you.

It’s sloppy. You’re drooling all over his dick as you go back and forth, sucking when you reach the top and jerking him off as you go. San’s hands remain in your hair, yet he lets you establish the rhythm, letting you take control.

You know it won’t last long. You know he’ll snap eventually, fucking your mouth or fucking you, and you long for it.

Long for the moment he’ll fuck into you for the first time.

You moan on his dick at the thought, your pussy clenching around nothing. You’ve soaked your panties, and you think you might even be soaking through your pants as you just keep sucking San off.

You try to maintain a steady rhythm, but you soon start trying to take more of him in your mouth each time, letting him hit the back of your throat as you hold the gag reflex in. San is a mess over you, and a moment later, he’s moving, slowly thrusting between your lips. You slow down, allowing him to use your mouth like he wants to, but it doesn’t last too long.

San pulls out of your mouth, your drool covering him sinfully, and he looks down at you, panting.

“Why don’t you take your shirt off?”

He doesn’t have to ask twice. You take the shirt off, eyes glued to his as it reveals your skin. You keep going, taking off your bra, and you can tell he’s fighting to maintain eye contact as your nipples meet air, perking from the cold.

Though you’d argue that the atmosphere between you and Choi San is fiery right now, and it doesn’t take more than a heartbeat for your body to flush with warmth again.

“Move back on the bed,” he orders next, though his tone is soft, gentle.

It takes you by surprise, but the lust in his gaze is unmistakable, even if softness swirls within it.

He’s looking at you like he’ll never look at anyone else again, and it makes your heart soar in your chest.

You move back, stopping when San reaches for your pants. He unbuttons them, sliding them down your legs along with your panties. He takes his time with it, leaving a trail of featherlight kisses down your leg, and then he’s letting your clothes fall on the floor.

You’re fully naked, and so is he, and your heartbeat goes wild at the perspective of what’s to come.

San climbs over you, kissing you once as he rests his weight on one of his arms. And then he’s plopping on the bed next to you, his hand finding its way between your thighs. Your legs close at the sudden contact, and he tuts, spreading them wide open again.

“Gotta get you ready before you can take me, baby,” he whispers, kissing your jaw. He even nibbles on it, and you let out a soft moan as he trails a finger between your nether lips.

You wonder, how is it that a single touch of his can feel so good?

San circles your clit with his digit, and then presses on the sensitive bundle of nerves. Your eyes flutter shut as you take the sensation in, the friction on you much needed. You blindly reach for his dick, sighing in contentment when you manage to wrap your hand around him, and you start jerking him off, though your hand stills as his finger goes back to your hole, slowly pushing in.

Your walls clench as you moan, and San just whispers sweet nothings in your ear as he pushes his finger all the way in before pulling it almost all the way out. He goes back in, curling his finger to find the nutty spot inside of you, and pleasure shoots through you as he rubs on the sensitive spot.

“Fuck,” you breathe out.

San echoes your curse with a groan as you start moving your hand on his dick again. Though it might be a little awkward from the position, you assume he likes it as he peppers soft kisses on the side of your face and on the corner of your lips.

“You’ll feel so good on my dick,” he whispers.

It doesn’t sound as horny as the words appear to be - it’s more of a plea, and you turn your head to the side to kiss him again. He sighs in your mouth, and your tongues are dancing together by the time he eases a second finger inside of you. It feels heavenly, and you moan, letting him swallow it. He deepens the kiss as he moves his fingers, increasing the rhythm until he’s fucking you with the digits, squelching sounds filling his room.

You think you might come. It feels so good you reckon there’s a high chance you will, a knot already starting to form in your lower stomach. But then, right as he’s fighting against your tightening walls, San pulls out. You whine from the loss of contact, but he’s already moving to his bedside table, pulling the drawer open. He fumbles with a box, grabbing a condom while you just watch him.

“I want you to come on my dick,” he offers as an explanation, his words low and husky.

You will - you’ll likely come the second he pushes into you, and the thought makes you press your thighs together.

San tears the foil package open, rolling the condom down his dick. He gives it a few strokes as if to make sure it’s well placed, and then he’s moving back towards you. He sees your legs pressed together, tutting, and then he’s climbing on top of you, spreading your legs with his knee.

“You ready to take me?” he asks as he kneels back between your thighs.

You look down at him, taking in the sheer size of his dick and, even though you’ve seen him before, it feels like the first time all over again. “You’re so big,” you say through the lust clouding your mind.

“Don’t worry,” he purrs, tapping his dick on your clit. “We’ll make it fit.”

And then he’s rubbing his tip between your folds, collecting your juices. You moan at the sensation, your legs opening wider as if that will make him slip in. But San is patient - he might even be some sort of a brat. Because he moves away from your entrance, his tip returning to your clit.

You whine, your hips lifting from the bed as you try to take him in. San just moves his dick away from you, regarding you darkly as he waits for you to fall back on the bed.

“Be patient, princess, I’ll fuck you in just a moment.” He taps your clit. “Just making sure you’re ready.”

“I am,” you let out, voice breathy.

He chuckles, and then he’s bending down, his tongue flicking on your nipple. The sudden touch makes you arch your back as you push your breast in his mouth, and San sucks on your nipple, his tongue circling it. His teeth tease your skin lightly, and you moan as your legs wrap around his waist. It makes him rub between your nether lips, yet he’s still not where you need him to be.

“Alright, alright,” San says as he pulls away from your nipple, lips glistening. “I’ll take it you’re ready.”

You nod as he leans on one of his elbows so he can reach for his dick again. You look down at the spot where your bodies are touching while he aligns himself with your entrance, your pussy already clenching just at the thought of what will happen in just a few heartbeats.

“Look at me,” San whispers, and the lust is gone.

You’d say only affection is left, but you don’t want to be delusional, not when it’s only been a few weeks.

San slowly pushes in, fighting against your walls for a second before they relax and let his tip in. Even then he stretches you wide open, the burn deliciously good, and you frown in pleasure. He’s biting his lower lip, like he’s trying to keep a moan in, and his eyebrows almost touch over his eyes as he keeps pushing in.

Inch after inch, San spears you with his dick, and it feels like a small eternity until he’s all the way in. Only then does he let out a small moan that alters your brain chemistry, making you crave for him as if he’s not already in you.

“Holy fuck,” he curses and that, too, alters your brain chemistry.

“San…”

“Fuck.”

He leans his forehead against yours, and your eyelids flutter shut from the proximity. He doesn’t move yet, letting you adjust to his size, making sure he won’t hurt you. Or at least that’s what you think he’s doing, and you wrap your arms around his neck to hold him close.

San moves his head slightly to capture your lips in a kiss, and he kisses you sweetly, gently, like maybe the world has stopped turning for the two of you tonight. You feel it deep in your chest - it lights up your heart like fireworks in the dead of night, and you kiss him back with all the might of the feelings in your chest.

You’ve never felt like this. Like you were missing a piece of yourself, yet here with Choi San, you think you’ve been incomplete your whole life. It’s a powerful feeling, a scary one, but it doesn’t feel so scary when he’s kissing you like this, telling you that he feels the same, too.

As his tongue teases your bottom lip, San slowly starts pulling out, only to thrust in again a moment later, harder this time. The friction on your walls turns the fireworks to the brightest stars, and you abandon yourself to the feeling as he starts moving, establishing a steady rhythm.

He’s being careful. You know he’s being careful, but you want more, need more, and so you graze his back with your nails, trying to entice him in moving faster, harder. He doesn’t take the cue, and so you suck on his tongue the next time it meets yours, and San groans in your mouth before pulling away.

“You feel so, so fucking good,” he praises, and then he looks down at his dick while he’s fucking you. “You take me so well.”

The words send you on a freefall towards an orgasm, and San senses it, your walls tightening around him. So he kneels back, pulling your legs on his shoulders, and then he starts fucking you rougher, his headboard banging into the wall.

You have half a thought to tell him to put a pillow behind it, but then his fingers are on your clit, his other hand finding your breast, and pleasure steals every thought from your brain until there’s only him left.

Though you think there’s only been him for a while now.

“What a pretty little slut,” San grunts. “What a good fucking pussy.”

You reckon he probably doesn’t realize that he’s talking. Indeed, his eyes are shut like he’s lost in the sensations, and a bead of sweat is rolling down his temple. Some of his hair is stuck to his forehead, and his teeth are digging in his lower lip as he increases the rhythm even more.

That’s when you hit the ground of your orgasm, exploding like those fireworks in your chest. It’s blinding white, and you scream out his name or something that was supposed to be his name, though you choke on the sound as the pleasure ripples through you. You feel weightless, like maybe you’ve reached nirvana, and your hands are clutching the covers of his bed as if that might keep you tethered to the ground.

But you’re gone, swimming in bliss as your walls flutter on San’s dick, clutching him hard enough for him to lose it too. While you’re still riding the wave of your orgasm, San reaches his climax, and he curses loudly as he pushes all the way in, releasing his load into the condom. He then bends down to kiss you through his high, and you kiss him back languidly, too fucked out to even think about breathing.

You’ve never come so hard before. No man - or yourself - has ever made you feel that way, and you don’t think you’ll recover.

You reckon you might have lost your sanity for good. You don’t care - San is worth losing your sanity for.

“I think I…” San trails off, against your lips, but then you silence him with another kiss that sends your heart into orbit, with him at the center. Like you’ll forever orbit him now, like he’s become the center of your universe.

You don’t know when the high recedes. You only realize San has gone soft when he lets himself fall on the bed next to you, his arm wrapping around your waist to hold you close. He hides his face in your neck, and you just lay there for a time, your breathing slowly going back to normal.

It takes a long time for you to feel slightly normal again and even then, your mind is still swirling in bliss by the time you turn your head, letting out a small, “Wow.”

San laughs, a cute, soft sound that wraps around your soul, and you echo the laugh with a giggle of your own.

“That was amazing,” San says, and you reckon ‘amazing’ is not even strong enough of a word to describe what just happened between the two of you.

“It was,” you agree.

There’s a short silence, and then San adds, “I’m sorry I came so fast.”

You frown. “Fast?”

“I don’t know, I just couldn’t help myself,” he sheepishly continues. “It felt too good.”

“You don’t have to apologize for that.” You chuckle. “It was some good fucking sex.”

San laughs again, his arm tightening around you as he presses a gentle kiss on your shoulder. “I think I’ll want to fuck you again in the morning. And maybe in the afternoon, too.”

“You’ve got some plans for us, Choi San,” you tease.

He pecks your shoulder again, and you can feel his smile against your skin. “Oh, trust me. I really do.”

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☆☆☆☆☆

yeah they're simps and i love them for it hehe hope you guys enjoyed this chapter! let me know what you think!

#be with you ch 6 #be with you #san smut #san angst #san fluff #san fic #san x you #san x reader #san #choi san #choi san smut #choi san fic #choi san fluff #choi san angst #choi san x you #choi san x reader #be with you series

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thevoidscreams · 2 months ago

Note

For the mating press march.

What about stalker!corvus, where he is doing his best to make you acept his love?

Dark romances have prepared me for this moment. *Cracks knuckles* (I'm so sorry this is late)

Day 20 Year 2:

Warnings: Stalking, non consensual touching while asleep, generally kinda creepy behavior, murder, masturbation, scopophobia, body parts as gifts

Word count: 4750

The bag of groceries in your hands felt heavy, even if there wasn't a lot in it. You hurried down the street, the hood of your coat pulled over your head as you tried not to be noticeable. You fish your keys from your coat pocket as you begin to approach your door. Looking over your shoulder every now and again.

It was the third time you'd had to relocate this year alone. If only your ex could get it through his head that you DIDN'T want to see him anymore. That you’d be better off if he would never speak to you again. But he just wouldn't listen. You wish he’d drop dead, or that someone would kill his stupid ass.

You shut the door behind you, locking it immediately and turning the dead bolts.

Your groceries went into their proper places. It wasn't much of an apartment but it was better than the streets. You wished you could go off world, to find somewhere far away from the man who tormented you so.

"Maybe I could," you spoke to yourself. You flipped through your sketchbook, you were a fair hand at art. And the nineteenth would be docked in your planet's orbit for some weeks while getting repairs done. Or so you heard. Maybe you could join them as a remembrancer or something?

Yeah and maybe you'd spontaneously sprout wings and fly away. You sighed, looking at the missed call button on your phone. You knew who it was, you didn't need to check it.

That settled it. You made a copy of some of your best pieces and went out, hood over your face as you went. It was later than you liked to be out but you could at least talk to someone and figure out if you could get out of this hell hole.

Corax watched you with interest, of all the people he saw down on the street, you were the only one who looked like they were hiding.

He wanted a closer look. He followed silently from rooftops until he was right on top of you. Unseen and unheard.

You stopped at the landing pad where several smaller transports were being worked on.

Most of the workers ignored you as you tried to ask questions.

He gathered in the first minutes that you were an artist, looking for work as a remembrancer.

He could answer those questions but he waited. You looked ready to give up based on your body language, when a sudden breeze caught your hood and pulled it away from your face.

Corax's hearts stuttered as he saw you. His footing suddenly felt uneven and he over adjusted, cracking the roof tiles under his foot and sending them crashing to the street below. He cursed as it spooked you and you tugged your hood back up. He watched you as you began to hurry back towards your home, he followed as if drawing along on a leash.

Why were you so skittish? He'd been following you for several days since he first saw you trotting home late at night. From a job most likely. You seemed so frightened of the world around you. He could only surmise why, in a city that was relatively safe, there must be a cause. Most likely, a human cause.

Since then he'd seen you to and from your home , whether it was to work or the shops. He kept his keen black gaze on your hooded figure.

Today was the first clear look he'd ever gotten off your face. He craved more of it. More of that visage.

He waited till you were locked safely behind your doors to descend down from the roof to peer in through your windows. He hadn't done this before.

He watched you pull your hood away, then the coat it was attached to and hang it on a hook above your doors peephole.

He stood, still as a statue as you went about a routine of checking every nook and cranny till you seemed satisfied. Odd.

You were home, you were safe, for the most part. But the insisting sensation of being watched gnawed at you constantly. For over a week you'd felt like a rat in a cage, eyes peering down from between the bars to scrutinize you.

The blinking of the answering machine told you that the device had several missed calls on it.

No one ever called you but your job. Or him. You pressed the blinking button and stood, waiting for the inevitable. Maybe it would just be your boss though, asking you to cover a shift.

"Please baby, I'm sorry, please call me-" you deleted the message. The beginning of the guilt tripping it was too much. But you knew it would only get worse from there.

"I know I fucked up, please!-" deleted.

"I broke in ONE TIME! Stop ignoring my calls-" deleted.

The begging turned into angered yelling, each message more vile than the last till the voice on the other end was threatening violence and worse if you didn't forgive him and come back to him.

When they were all done you curled up on the floor, crying, holding your legs tight to yourself as his voice rang in your mind. You would have to change your number. Again.

Corax's vision was tinged red, his anger burning hotter than the sun this world orbited. He saw in you the same torment that the prisoners of Lycaeus had endured. People suppressed into smallness by those that willingly terrorize and abuse them. He longed to reach out and touch you, to give you the peace you so desperately needed. To provide the safety that man had denied you.

It would not stand.

When you finally crawled up the stairs of your tiny apartment to sleep off the panic attack Corax slipped inside. The balcony doors weren't an easy place for him to slip through given his height, but he'd gotten them open easily enough. That would be a point he'd have to fix later.

He went through your mail. He read your name, over and over. Sounding it out in his mind. He stopped to take a breath, the place you called home didn't smell very strongly of you yet. It must be a recent acquisition.

He took in his surroundings, it was a very humble little place. He has no quarrel with small humble places. He himself came from a place that was unglamorous. As long as a home was a home, what did it matter?

But Corax could tell that this wasn't a home. Not truly. A home was a place of safety and comfort. And this, this was a shell, a place you were hiding in from something outside.

He left, securing your balcony in just such a way that he would be able to return later, but also so the wind would not blow it open.

He had work to do. But he would return to you as quickly as he was able. His hearts beat a rapid staccato as he pictured your face in his mind.

Soon.

The first thing he had to ascertain was who this ex of yours was, what was this less than human scumbags name? What had he done to you? And furthermore, he needed to get you enrolled in the system to become a remembrancer.

It took him an hour to do the latter. Having a letter written up to you as if it was simply a notice that the legion was taking on more and you could return the post with examples of work. You of course we're the only one that got the letter. But he knew you'd apply. And he would pick you personally.

The first bit of information he got by simply walking into the local law enforcement office. A search of your name brought up multiple results. The poor woman working the desk didn't dare to turn him away.

Restraining orders, breaking and entering, domestic disputes and other things turned up. His hands shook with rage as he took the reports. He would see that you had justice. Now that he had a name and face. It was inevitable.

On his way to the port he stopped by your house, watched you dart out to collect the mail and heard the soft squeak of surprise as you found the letter. He sat and waited, watching until you darted back out to place it in the post box.

He collected it. A wide grin over his face as he tucked the envelope into a safe place. He could feel the bulge of your added artwork. He'd look them over later.

That night he went about setting things up. Telling his crew and some of his sons that he intended to take a remembrancer of his own. It wasn't unheard of and those around him seemed to accept the idea without a second thought.

He penned the letter that he would deliver to your mailbox telling you that you were to be interviewed for the position. Of course it was just for show, but you didn't need to know that.

The following days were a blur for you, so much so that you hadn't noticed anything amiss, a letter with an official seal from the nineteenth legion came back and you felt over the moon. Finally you'd be getting away from all this torment.

The interview was the following morning, you'd be meeting someone at the port that allowed transports from orbit to land inside the city.

It was all so exciting that you didn't even think you'd be able to sleep. But you laid down nonetheless and eventually exhaustion found its way in. As did something else.

Corax watched you sleep from the corner of the room. His body hunched as he crept closer. You looked much more peaceful in your sleep.

He took that as a good sign that you weren't in danger of waking. Not that it mattered if you did. You hadn't seen him any of the other nights he'd come to wait for you.

It was almost troubling how easy it was for him to come in and just.. watch and sometimes more. He grew bold in his knowledge that you wouldn't wake. He'd touched your hips softly for the first time several nights before. The night you'd received the letter.

He shouldn't touch you, he knew he shouldn't, but how was he supposed to help himself? He wasn't blind to his own obsession as he came back night after night. But he couldn't help it, not that he wanted to.

His hands had started on just your hips and arms, feeling your softness under his fingers. Slowly he'd trailed his hands over your body. Tonight however you were wearing just an oversized shirt. He knew there was nothing underneath as he'd hidden your sleep shorts while you showered. Eventually you gave up and went to bed without them.

He crouched by the bed, his palms reaching to touch, to feel the softness of your body once more.

There was an intoxicating aroma about you that night. He pressed your thighs to the side to take a closer look, seeing the glistening moisture between your thighs. It was unlike anything he'd seen before. His right hand reached down to palm the ache between his legs. His thumb traced the outer edge of your womanhood. Maybe, once you were his, he would explore that forbidden garden more.

He freed his cock, stroking it as he pictured it in his mind.

Your body pressed to his as he bounced you in his lap, spearing you on his cock again and again. Your voice crying his name sweetly as he came inside.

He groaned at the mental image. You stirred, sighing as you turned over slightly in your sleep.

Corax withdrew, waiting for you to settle fully before returning to your side. Cock still in hand as he looked hungrily over your form.

He needed to control himself. He didn't. His hips rutted into his hands as he imagined it was your hand, or mouth, or body. Corax felt his orgasm coming and reached for something. He finished in a pair of your underwear, painting the fabric with his seed. Guilt washed over him as he came down from the high. Scrapping what he could from the fabric he tossed it into your dirty laundry. Hopefully you wouldn't notice.

He left through the balcony again.

"We found the man you spoke of."

Corax didn't turn from his view of the street, he nodded. "Very good we will bring justice then."

The forms of his sons around him gave him the certainty that this was right. That he should be doing this.

"My lord? Who is she?" One of his sons asked. "I will be taking her as my remembrancer, and if all goes well, you will have a legion mother soon."

His sons seemed to brighten at the news. "And we are to hunt this man, why?" "Because he hurt her."

It was all they needed to hear, as they traversed from the city to the town beyond the city's limits where a dead man was waiting for them.

You stumbled out of bed, exhausted from a night full of dreams that left you needy and horny beyond belief.

You grabbed the clothes you'd set aside for today, except the underwear. You swore you'd had the one clean pair left. You sighed, grabbing the first pair off the top. It was decidedly not clean but that's what you got for forgetting to wash a load of your laundry. You pulled them up and sighed as you felt it seemed to be your own dried juices. You'd get another shower when you got home.

At least your skirt and blouse were pristine.

The trek down to the port wasn't a long one, but you went as quickly as you could regardless. You didn't get a notice saying who you'd be meeting, just that you should be there at ten and you'd be picked up for the interview. You arrived thirty minutes early just in case. A portfolio of drawings you hadn't included in there just in case.

At ten on the door a ship landed, it was huge. It had all the right heraldry so it had to be the right one. The large door at the back hissed as it began to lower.

You expected a crew member or some legion official. Instead your knees nearly gave out as the tallest man you'd ever seen strolled from the back. "Hello." It was all he said, but you felt as if you were going to faint. His voice was quiet and he motioned for you to join him in the ship.

When you did the door shut behind you, leaving your spine with the very tall man. You felt choked, as if all the air in the universe couldn't feed you the necessary oxygen needed for your brain to function. It wasn't like your other panic attacks but it certainly didn't feel dissimilar, Judi different. A massive hand reached out to you, and you reached for it in return. The contact calmed you. Easing the rising sensation of whatever it was. You closed your eyes to gather your thoughts and when you opened them again you were sitting across from the practical giant.

"I'm so sorry-" He raised a hand to do you, your voice faltering as he smiled and settled you with the simple gesture.

"There's nothing to apologize for, you are here on time. And as for the reaction, I have had far worse than that."

You swallowed and nodded. "I take it then that you are the primarch?"

Corax's smile did not waver, oh you would be taking it when the time was right. "I am, you may call me Corvus Corax, or simply Corvus."

You nodded. "Okay, Corvus... it's nice to meet you."

The primarch nearly jumped you when you said his name so sweetly.

"Likewise, and I believe I know who you are. But please, won't you tell me your name?"

You gave it without hesitation, and Corax nodded. He wanted to eat the sound of your voice, he wanted to consume every little bit of you and hold you within himself for the rest of time as you exchanged pleasantries and basic facts about yourself that he already knew. You even offered him the art in your portfolio. Art he'd seen numerous times before but it felt more special, seeing them now as you offered them so freely.

"You have a gift for this. I am impressed, it seems so effortless how you capture the world around you and place it onto paper this way." He complimented, eager that you should know how he felt about your art.

"Thank you, it's a long time hobby really, but I'd love to make it my proper job."

Corax nodded. You'd gotten more comfortable reclining a bit in your seat.

"Tell me about this piece." He urged handing you back a page with an illustration he hadn't seen, something dark in the sky above the streets of a city looking down.

You took the page and shivered. "Oh I did this one recently, it's more of a feeling piece. I was trying to capture the feeling of being watched by something you can't see or by someone who isn't there." You told him, not mentioning that if it was how your horrible ex made you feel.

"I see, and have you felt watched?"

You blushed embarrassed that he'd asked about that one in particular. "Yeah, it's just that I had a really nasty break up and the guy won't leave me alone. So I made this piece to try and capture the feeling of that."

Corax processed the words slowly. "When you are with my legion, you will be safe." He promised softly. "My sons and I will make sure that no harm befalls you." His voice was so sincere, that you believed him.

"Thank you." You felt your eyes mist surf unshed tears. This interaction had been the first time you'd felt safe in such a long time, a warm hand cupped your cheek. "There now, it will be alright." He soothed, and he babbled something as the tears did begin to fall. His thumb brushed away the tears. "I will keep you safe as your belongings are gathered. I would have you as my remembrancer if that is amicable to you."

You nodded excitedly. "Oh yes, I will go at once to gather my belongings, thank you Corax."

As you made to stand, you unfolded your legs and Corvus caught the briefest flag of your underwear. The color and pattern were immediately familiar to him, and though he kept a calm external expression, his mind reeled. You were wearing them. You were wearing the panties he'd cum in. His cock began to fill with blood as he nodded and ushered you out. "Gather your essentials only, I will see to it that the rest of your belongings are brought up later. Assuming the address on your application is current."

"Oh it is! Thank you again I can't tell you what this means to me-" Corax walked you to the end of the port as you gushed excitedly about your new position.

Once you were gone on your way he hurried back to the transport, glad he'd for gone wearing his armor so as not to intimidate you. The door hissed shut and he tugged his cock free, pumping his length as he knelt before the place you'd been sitting. He could still smell you in the air as he fucked his hands to the thought. His cum at least to some capacity had been pressing snug against your pussy that whole time, even if he scraped away the bulk of it. It was just further proof that he needed to have you. He blew his load into the seat where you'd been, painting the metal with his seed as he whined your name.

Guilt again, but not nearly as strong as before. He voxed the Shadow of the Emperor. You would be theirs soon. A ripple of excitement went they'd his sons as they even offered their aid in getting you there quicker. Corax cleaned up the mess he'd made. Two hours by his estimation, and you'd be his.

When you returned home you packed your bag, clothes, documents, any small tokens of your personhood that mattered.

When you finished you looked around. The furniture was all second hand, a lot of what you'd loved had been left behind or destroyed by him.

You shook your head. You were free now. Corax would keep you safe now. Wouldn't he?

You shook the seeds of doubt from your mind, of course he would. He was a primarch. You'd packed up quick, and had a few minutes to relax. You'd informed your boss that you'd done this and told him that if you'd not come in for your next shift it was because you got the position.

You sat down on your bed, taking it all in. Soon you'd start your new life.

You closed your eyes and thought about Corax. He was handsome, really handsome. Your cheeks heated as your hand moved down to the hem of your skirt. Pulling it up you dug your hand into your panties fingers caressing the outer folds, gathering the wetness that had gathered there. You stroked your clit, stimulating more wetness as you pictured Corax, sitting across from you, he was huge. You wondered if all of him was big like that. The mental image shifted to him above you, fucking you instead of it just being your fingers. All the wet dreams you'd had last night left you eager and your body was alight with the sensation your fingers were providing, but you couldn't help but wish it was him.

As you got close you cried his name softly into your hand. Cumming on your fingers.

With that out of the way you gathered your bag. Time to go.

You stopped at the port, looking for the transport when large armored figures appeared, they towered over you frightening you. But they made no move to grab or harm you. "The primarch has gone ahead to prepare your place. You will come with us."

You nodded, these must be the astartes you'd heard so much about. "And you are his.. uh.. sons?"

One turned towards you but didn't respond as you were ushered to the ship. As the transport went up you could see over the city. It was prettier when you weren't getting an up close look, you decided. As it moved you could see the outlying suburbs and towns. Over one part in particular you saw a swarm of law enforcement and hummed. "Wonder what happened there" you said, "maybe someone finally did in that abusive asshat." You chuckled. Not seeing how the marines looked from one another to you and then back.

The Shadow of the Emperor was absolutely massive. You'd heard about void ships this big, but actually seeing one. It simply didn't look real.

The astartes had ushered you into a seat to keep you from being jostled around as the craft left the atmosphere so when you landed you were the only one buckled in.

The seats were clearly sized for individuals much larger than yourself and you felt like a toddler.

They led you from the craft and into the interior of the gloriana class battleship. They were all quiet as they ushered you forth only answering basic questions, yeses or nos.

Corax was waiting for you, he greeted you warmly as you stepped into his personal chambers. “I hope that you will be comfortable, the room I have available is connected to mine, so you will be close to me.” At first it was a bit daunting, but when you stepped into the ‘small room’ it was several times larger than your cramped apartment. “It’s much nicer than my old place, thank you.” The primarch had to bite his tongue to keep from replying, “I know.” Which surely would have raised questions.

You’d wanted to get off the planet so badly and here you were. Corax had promised to keep you safe, and he was one of the emperor’s sons, so he would. You had to believe that.

The furniture came up the next day, your dinky little couch and bed, the scant few personal things like your clothes as well. You didn’t even have to raise a finger to move this time. That was nice. Corax stayed close by for the next two weeks to help you settle and the more he did the more you did feel safe with him, it was hard to let down those walls but Corax seemed to climb over them with ease, and you let him. You were even becoming something kind of like friends. Even if you wanted to jump his bones every time you saw him, in and out of his armor. The ship was still docked when you told him the first time about your ex, having shared some wine together as you told each other personal stories about your lives. Even though he knew about the scum bag he listened intently. Letting you vent your frustrations and fears. The ways he hurt you, and the years of torment that you’d endured at his hands. Corax had killed him before you’d ever set foot on this ship, and now he was glad he’d done it. He was reassured that his murder was justice and not just vengeance as you recounted how the authorities did nothing to help you. His father was a man of means and that left you feeling powerless as searches were called off and evidence was ‘lost’ or ignored outright. The primarch held your hand throughout the retelling. “You will have justice.” He promised, knowing that even as you spoke, the dismembered parts of his body were sitting on ice. He would have them wrapped for you. And he would give them to you himself. You shrugged. “I’m not sure how, I just worry that what I did was selfish now. What if he hurts someone else in my place now that I’m gone.” “He will not.” Corvus promised, and he pulled you into a soft hug. You rested your head against his chest until he left you to get some rest. How could he be so sure, you wondered as sleep took you. Hours later you awoke, to a knock at the door. You got up to answer it, Corvus was there, a soft smile on his face. “Hey,” you yawned, “What time is it?” “Late.” Corax replied as he stepped in, holding a metal box in his hands. “What’s this?” He handed it to you as he knelt by your side, ready to steady you should the shock cause you to pass out. “I told you he would not hurt anyone else, and he never will. No new women, and especially not you.”

With shaking hands, you opened the lid, you nearly dropped the box as hot acid burned the back of your throat. You took a deep breath and looked again. Two eyes, a tongue and two hands. You took them in with a cold sort of detachment. “Why?” You asked. “Why these parts?” Corvus was glad you asked. “We took his eyes so he would never watch you again, his tongue so he could never speak such vile things to you again. And his hands, so he would never touch you again.” It was disgusting, but you couldn’t bring yourself to be disgusted. Corax had done for you what no other person had ever done, not just murder, but he’d taken you seriously, and he’s actually done what he could to see you safe. There was a bloom of warmth in your chest that traveled throughout your body. Tears burned in your eyes as you closed the lid. “Thank you.” You breathed through a choked breath.The box was taken from your hands and set aside, Corax’s massive arms encircled your body in a warm, tight hug. “I told you, I would keep you safe.” It should have frightened you, but instead your heart beat with relief. Safe. You were finally safe.

#warhammer 40k #warhammer #primarch x reader #warhammer 40k x reader #mating press march #my writing #primarch #corvus corax #Corax x reader #Corvus Corax x reader

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magnolia-among-the-stars · 8 months ago

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the last bit of us (chapter three)

Plot: Tyler Owens hasn’t been home in a year. He’s survived all the storm chasing and motel living with his new partners as they try to save lives. But with all the damage they’ve taken from driving high beams first into monster storms, it’s time to pay the piper and bring the truck in for repairs. And the only person who can fix them is the best mechanical engineer he’s ever met. Eleanor Harding, his estranged wife.

Pairing: Tyler Owens x Estranged Wife OC (Harding Daughter)

Word Count: 2.4k

Playlist Song: your place by ashley cooke

Trigger Warning: mention of dying character, cancer

prologue / one / two / three / four / five

The drive takes more than an hour and the bile building in my throat burns the closer I get to the hospital. I’ve gotten used to the layout of the visitor’s parking lot, the row after row of cars lining the large lot. I curse, driving too quickly past another spot.

My hands start to shake and my chest hurts a little from the constricting panic. I slam on the breaks when a car starts to back out, pulling away. I swing into the spot, breathing out in relief. The walk to the front slider doors of the hospital takes what feels like forever and the receptionist at the front desk takes too long to sign me in. I can feel a new wave of tears rolling through me as I step off the elevator. Mom is there, pacing back and forth on the phone.

“Mom?” I call out, doubling my speed until I’m running into her arms.

She tucks her phone in shorts just in time to collect me in her embrace.

“Hi sweets,” she breathes into my hair. There’s a small amount of relief, being curled up in her arms. I bury my face deeper into her neck, a few stray tears sliding down my face. I sniffle loudly, trying to collect myself.

“What happened?” I ask, looking up at her.

“You know your father,” she purses her lips, rubbing my arms as she sighs. I’m not sure if she’s trying to comfort me or comfort herself. “Doing too much in the barn, overworking himself. He stumbled into the house and passed out. Doctors said he’s been missing his medication. If the cancer doesn’t kill him, I’ll do it myself,” she huffs.

“Ma,” I scolded her, shaking my head. I turned to peer into the room, trying to catch my dad’s eye but the doctor stood in the way. He sways a little back and forth as he speaks, only allowing me to see the IV hooked up and the soft beep of the heart monitor. “Don’t say things like that. Dad is going to be fine.”

When I turn back to her, my mom’s eerily calm. She’s breathing through her nose, her eyes a little cloudy as she watches the doorway. Her thumb taps her pointer finger, then her middle. It’s a distraction, something I’d inherited from her as a way of navigating hard moments. I tilt my head, watching her more closely. “He’s going to be fine, right?”

She’s slow in looking at me, her gaze far away when our eyes connect and my breath hitches in my throat. Jo Harding had stood strong in front of the scariest of storms. She’d stared down an F5, sent it running for the hills and yet, she’d never looked more fearful as she opened her mouth. “Honey,” she starts but footsteps interrupt her sentence.

“He’s up and talking,” the doctor says, smiling a little at my mom. He shouldn’t be smiling. Why is he smiling? “I’ve sent in his new prescription to the pharmacy and once his IV is done, we’ll be able to get him back home,” he nods at me. “I’ll leave you both to it.”

I don’t wait to hear what mom has to say, rushing into the room to see him. The chemo still hasn’t taken all of his hair, though the line continues to recite backwards a little further each week that I visit. He’s wrapped in a white sheet, stark and crisp against his blue hospital gown. He looks so small in the large bed and yet, somehow so uncomfortable. The crows feet around his eyes have deepened with exhaustion but his warm, bright smile still remains.

“Daddy,” I murmur, sniffling again as I climb gently onto the side of his bed.

“Hey sweetheart,” he reaches up to touch my cheek, patting it lightly and smoothing the flush with his thumb.

“What the hell is the matter with you? Mom said you haven’t been taking your meds.”

“Sweetheart, there’s something I need to share with you,” he says, eyes flickering behind me at mom, leaning up against the doorframe.

I want to look back at her, give her the chance to tell me it’s not what I think. Anyone who knew parents would know that before me, mom was the emotional one; impulsive, reactive. But after I was born, Bill Harding went soft. His heartstrings were too malleable, easily manipulated. I was daddy’s little girl. I couldn’t look back at my mom for strength, I was too worried that he would slip from my fingertips when I turned back.

“I don’t,” I start, shaking my head. “I don’t want to know.”

“Eleanor,” he coos, as if I’m a newborn sobbing through the night. I feel like I am. “The cancer has spread too much.” I don’t hear the rest of what he says. There’s a high pitched ringing that echoes in my eardrum, mixing with “home”, “weeks” and “get comfortable”. After minutes of numbing silence, I nod and wipe my face while grabbing his hand.

We sit for a while, the three of us chatting and trying to ignore the inevitable. My mind starts to race, making a checklist of to dos in my mind. Trying to figure out how to help my mom pay the hospital bills and manage the farmhouse. Maybe she can move in with me. We’ll need to make arrangements. I need to finish fixing up the RAM before he…well, before.

As time passes, the nurse shows up to take out his IV and start his discharge paperwork. “You’ll need to pick up your prescription. It’ll help keep you comfortable for the time being,” she repeats as she places a bandaid over the spot of blood from the needle. “We’ve already sent it over.”

“I’ll pick it up,” I blurt out, rising to my feet.

“Honey, you should go get some rest,” my mom says, squeezing my hand. “You can’t tell me you got much sleep last night and it’s been a long day.”

“I don’t mind,” I say, suddenly remembering that Tyler is here. “I could use the distraction.” My mom must notice the change in mood because she frowns, deep lines settling between her brows.

“Alright, I’ll walk you out,” she nods to the hallway. I thank the nurse and say goodbye to my dad, kissing him on cheek with a promise to see him at home. I follow my mom into the hallway, bumping into her as she slows to a halt.

“Ma, c’mon,” I say, stepping to her side and looking for what distracted her. Seriously. At the other end of the hallway is Tyler, standing with a sad expression.

“What in the fuck,” mom says, jaw set tightly as she crosses her arms. She turns to look at me. “What’s he doing here?”

I close my eyes, trying to slow my breathing. “I didn’t tell him where I was going.”

“Didn’t tell hi-,” she stops herself. “When did he come back? Why didn’t you tell me? Are you two back-,”

This is the last thing I need today. “Ma, he showed up this morning. I will get rid of him, alright? I’m gunna get rid of him.” I kiss her on the cheek. “I love you, I’ll see you at the house.” I turn away so that she doesn’t have a chance to protest or ask more questions, stalking over to Tyler.

“What the hell are you doing here?” I seeth, shoving him lightly backwards toward the elevators. “How did you even know where I was?”

He lets me move him, eyes trying to catch my mom’s as we move. His bright eyes are wet with worry, laced with concern as he searches my face for answers to his own questions. “Is dad alright? What happened?”

“Not your father,” I grunt, tugging him finally around the corner. The statement hurts, I can see it all over his face. I know how close he and my dad are but he doesn’t get to show up and just pick up as the son in law he hasn’t been. I’ve had to pick myself up in these moments with no shoulder to cry on. He doesn’t get to just come back and know.

“Eleanor, I know you are angry but if he’s hurt, I want to help,” Tyler says.

“It’s not your place.” I push the button for the elevator, holding tightly to his wrist in fear that he’ll speed back down the hallway. Right into the belly of the beast that is Jo Harding. As much as I hated him for disappearing, I wasn’t that cruel. “You made it clear you didn’t want this family anymore.”

The elevator dings. I step forward into the small space, trying to drag the man with me. Tyler doesn’t move easily behind me and when I turn to look at him, there’s a sour look on his face. “C’mon, I don’t want to miss the pharmacy hours,” I say. My fingers clutch his wrist tighter, pulling with all might until I can unglue his feet from the linoleum tile.

He’s quiet in the elevator and past the receptionist desk. I peel the stupid name tag from my top when we get outside in the fresh air, heading in the direction of my truck. I don’t expect the footsteps to follow me and leave them be until I’m a car or two away. I turn on him, hands on my hips. “What are you doing?”

“I’m coming with you.”

“No you are not.”

“Yes I am,” he responds with such a stubborn matter of fact tone that I want to slap him. He walks past me, swiping the keys from my grasp and heading for the truck. “You know I can get you to the pharmacy in under thirty minutes.” I think back to the times that we would need to make a trip over the years, the times that I would let him drive so we’d make it to the drive thru before closing for a milkshake and a burger. Racing against the clock with the windows down and the radio cranked down. I could still see the crinkles around his eyes from his smile under the overhead lighting to look for his wallet.

“What about your car?” I follow him to the truck.

“I got dropped off,” Tyler says, tugging the driver’s side open. He slides across the bench to unlock the passenger side and my stomach turns at the mundane simplicity of the action. I don’t have a choice but to comply though. I check my watch and realize the time, jumping into the passenger side.

It’s silent as Tyler wraps an arm around my headrest, backing out of the parking lot and heading down the road toward the family owned pharmacy near my parents’ house. It’s gotten dark outside and my headlights are too bright against the pavement. It hurts my head. Today hurts my head. I rub a palm over my face, trying to scrub the exhaustion and emotion away.

“You wanna talk about it?” Tyler’s voice is soft in the darkness of the cab.

My only response is another hefty sigh.

“C’mon El,” he tries again.

I stare out into the darkness, trying to see the grains of wheat along the fields instead of conversing. “I don’t want to talk to you.”

“Well, how about if you just talk at me? You’ve always enjoyed that,” he says, his tone too playful for my liking.

“Do you feel like that helps? Cracking a joke, making a jab at me?” I snap, turning to look at him. He glances over at me for a few moments, lips pursed.

“I’m sorry alright? I don’t really know how to behave and I’m trying to ease the tension.”

“Do you feel like the tension is at ease?” I ask, looking forward with my jaw clenched.

There’s a few more moments of silence before he says “Not at all.” His accent is thick, the twang of Arkansas slipping through. I look over at him and he licks his lips, grasp on the steering wheel flexing a little as he rolls to a stop on the empty road. I don’t know why, don't really know what it is that makes me react but I suddenly let out a giggle. It’s accompanied by a snort, a short, loud snort that catches his attention. His foot slips on the break as he turns to look at me. The motion causes us to jerk, our necks snapped forward in an instant. And the motion just makes me laugh more, tears streaming down my cheeks.

“Are you alright?” He’s staring at me wide eyed, like a deer caught in headlights afraid to make a move.

“This is just so absurd, this whole day, just an absurd nightmare.” I get out through wheezes of teary laughter. I take a few gulps of air to calm myself and wipe away the stray tears. I turn to look at him, my chest feeling a little tight. “It’s leukemia, stage four. The doctors have recommended he come home so that he’s comfortable.”

Under the overhead street lamp lighting that washes on the hood of the truck, I see Tyler’s face fall. His hand pushes the shifting gear into the park position, the sound rings in my ears. He opens his mouth but nothing comes out. He looks forward at the road then back at me. I can see the gears turning in his head, the cogs trying to continue their processing. I’m expecting a lot of questions about what type, how long he’s been sick, how long they give him, what medication they’ve prescribed. I even anticipated I should’ve been here.

“So what’s our next step?”

I blink a few times. I must've misheard him. “Huh?”

“What’s the plan? What do we do next? I can make some calls to St. Francis and see if we can get an appointment-,” he continues on, rattling off some ideas of second opinions and alternative medicine to heal my dad.

My fingertips start to go numb and I have to squeeze them tightly to try to gain feeling back. “Tyler, Tyler,” I say a little loudly, getting his attention. “There’s nothing to be done. It’s too far gone. He’s already done rounds of chemo.”

His gaze is a mix of harsh confusion and disbelief, piercing as he looks me over. “Rounds? How long has he been sick?”

“He was diagnosed last Spring,” I say, looking down at my watch. “Can we get moving? The pharmacy closes in twenty minutes, I don’t want him going without.” I can tell he wants to argue, set us into another round of banter and harsh remarks. I’m grateful that he decides against it, instead pushing the truck back into drive and speeding a little faster into town toward the pharmacy.

Thank you for reading! Want to be added to the tagged list or share feedback? Click here :)

taglist:

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#twisters #twisters movie #twisters 2024 #the last bit of us fanfic #tyler owens imagine #tyler owens #tyler owens fanfiction #tyler owens x oc #tyler owens imagines

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callsign-dexter · 1 year ago

Text

My Daughter, My Heart Pt. 1

Summary: Jake gets his papers and instead of talking it out with his long-term girlfriend he does something that is beyond repairable.

Pairings: Jake Seresin x Ex-Girlfriend (OC: Elizabeth Taylor), Jake Seresin x Daughter!Reader

Warnings: angst, cursing, heartbreak

Masterlist

My Daughter, My Heart

Prolog Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

The alarm on Jake's phone is what woke him up. He was quick to wake up and turn it off and when he did so he looked over at his girlfriend of 5 years and smiled at her sleeping form. He loved her he really did but the thought of him getting deployed and him having to break her heart when he didn't come back broke him even though he didn't let anyone see it. Breaking out of his thoughts he slowly got up and looked at the time and the clock read 5:30 AM he sighed and got up and started getting ready for the day.

Once a shower was done and everything to do in the bathroom was done he was heading to the kitchen. Jake started the coffee to get it going for both him and Elizabeth as the coffee was going he went outside to the mailbox. Most of the time he would get in a morning run but decided against it he could do it after work. As he was walking down the driveway their neighbor Mrs. Allen was out walking her dog. "Hi, Jake!" She said excitedly and Jake smiled.

"Hello, Mrs. Allen. Early start of your day I see." He said as he was opening the mailbox and grabbing the mail.

"Yes! I'm going to be out for most of the day and need to get the energy going." She said and he smiled and nodded. Jake was dressed in his Navy ABUs. He would get changed into his flight suit once he got there.

"I understand that. Well, it's been nice talking to you!" Jake said as he waved to her with the mail in his hand.

"You too, Jake! I'll see you around." She said and he smiled and nodded and headed up the house. When he got in there he heard the shower running and he smiled because that meant that Elizabeth was up and getting ready for the day.

As Jake was looking through the mail he found nothing too exciting than one piece stuck out to him it was labeled with the Navy's official stamp and his name sprawled across it. He put down the rest of the mail and opened that piece. They were sending him on a 1-year long deployment and his heart dropped to his stomach when he saw that they were sending him Saturday night, tomorrow night. He truly did love deployments but that also meant a chance of him not coming home. When he heard the patter of feet coming down the stairs he quickly put the letter away with his work stuff and smiled when Elizabeth came into the room. "Good morning." She said with a smile and he smiled back.

"Good morning." He replied and kissed her as she walked up to him. He handed her coffee and she began going through the mail. Seeing nothing interesting or immediate attention she pushed it to the side. "I'm gonna be late tonight." Jake said to her and she nodded.

"That's ok. I'm gonna have to stay late to finish up some grading and paperwork." Elizabeth said and he nodded. He had already made up his mind that on his lunch break, he would come and get his stuff. He didn't have much there considering that it was her place and he had already bought a place before he met her so it was still considered very new and he was letting Javy, his friend from The Naval Academy, stay there. He was in his mind thinking of everything and wasn't paying attention until she had said his name. "Jake?" Elizabeth asked and he looked up.

"Hmmm?" He asked

"Did you hear me?" She asked and he shook his head.

"No sorry I have a lot of my mind." He said and she frowned.

"Do you want to talk about it?" She asked and he shook his head.

"No. I got to get to work. I love you." He said and kissed her hard and extra long then he headed out the door, leaving a confused Elizabeth. He didn't even give her a chance to say she loved him back.

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Jake got to the base in record time and through the gate without any trouble. As soon as he parked another car pulled in next to him and he recognized it as Javy’s. They both got out at the same time. "Did you get the orders?" Javy and Jake nodded.

"Yup. Sure did. You?" Jake said as they walked into their building and to the office that they shared.

"Yea I did, I leave the say after you. Have you told Elizabeth?" Javy asked. He was fond of Elizabeth and considered her a friend.

"No. I don't want to. I'm thinking of ending things with her." Jake said and it pained him to say that.

"What? Why?" Javy asked looking at him shocked.

"This is the longest deployment I'm going to be on. All the others were short. I don't want to break her heart when I don't come home. So I'm gonna go at lunch and move out and back to the house." He said and finally looked up at his friend who was looking at him like he had two heads.

"Jake. That's absurd, even for you." Javy said and Jake hung his head.

"I know but it has to be done. I don't have much there." He said and Javy sighed and gave up trying to convince him to do the opposite of what he's going to do.

"Fine. I'm not happy with your decision but I'll help you." Javy said and Jake nodded.

"We'll go at lunch." Jake said

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After the weird goodbye, Elizabeth got ready for the day. Jake's behavior still running through her mind. She didn't know what to think about it and tried not to think about it. She and Jake had met through Javy and it was an instant connection. As she was putting her makeup on for the day so made a mental note to text Jake. As she was walking down the steps she decided to go ahead and text him.

I don't know what happened this morning but I love you and hope you have a good day.

She hit send and waited for a reply, which usually happened fairly soon after the first text. As she waited so got nothing and that made her heart drop. She decided to push it behind her and get along with her day. Elizabeth worked on base at the school. She was the middle school history teacher and she loved her job.

When she was done inside she headed out to her car and started her journey to the base. She wasn't in the Navy but a civilian working on a Navy base. When she got to the school she parked and walked in. Soon her students would start piling in. She tried to call Jake hoping he wasn't up in the air. She pulled out her cell phone and dialed his number after 3 rings it went to voice-mail.

You've reached Jake Seresin. Please leave a message and I'll get back to you as soon as possible.

Hey Jake, it's me. I'm not going to be able to do lunch today. I'm just not feeling all that great. I hope you have a good day and I love you.

Elizabeth frowned as she finished her message this was not like Jake. She didn't have to think long because a turning in her gut had her rushing out of her classroom and to a nearby bathroom. She barely made it into the stall before she was throwing up. This had been going on for about a week, she thought it was just a stomach bug that she had caught from her students so she let it go. She didn't tell Jake because she didn't want to burden him. When she was done throwing up she went back to her classroom just as soon as the students started to come in. She sighed and started her day.

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When lunchtime came around for Jake and Javy both men went and got into Jake’s truck and went to the house. Before they left the building Jake saw that he had some messages from Elizabeth but decided to ignore them. When he listened to the voice-mail he thought maybe what he was doing was out of line and he should back out, but those thoughts came back and he decided to move along with his plan. "Are you sure you want to do this?" Javy asked and Jake nodded.

"I'm sure." He said as they pulled out of the base and drove the short amount of time to the house. When they got there and parked in the driveway and headed inside everything was the same as they had left it. Jake sighed standing in the kitchen looking around but got a move on, if he wanted to do this he needed to do it now.

"You're 100% sure?" Javy asked one more time looking around the house that he had been to so many times.

"Yes, Javy. I'm 100% committed to this decision." Jake said with a slight annoyance even though he was thinking about having second thoughts.

"Ok man. Just making sure." Javy said as he followed Jake to the bedroom. Everything was still the same. Jake went to the closet and pulled out two duffle bags and sat them on the bed and began to put his belongings in them. It was silent as the two men worked with the occasional question from Javy about something.

All of the clothes and bathroom items were cleaned out and packed they headed to the front of the house. Jake had decided to leave the TV, couches, and most of the appliances there for her since he was going to be deployed and wouldn't need them. He grabbed his computer, charges, extra phone charges, and odds and ends that were lying around. "I think that's everything." Jake said while doing a look around one more time.

"I don't think this is right. She loves you, man." Javy said and Jake sighed and hung his head. He knew it was wrong but to him, it had to be done.

"I know. I just don't want to break her heart when I don't come home." Jake said and Javy nodded as they picked the stuff up and headed to Jake’s truck and put everything in the backseat. Jake had left his keys sitting on the counter along with the garage door remote. He still had time if he wanted to back out but he pushed those feelings behind and walked out the door for the last time.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

When the school had let out for the day Elizabeth stayed back and worked on some work like she would. She sighed and smiled a little to herself thankful it was Friday but also for the little child growing in her. During her lunch hour, she had run up to the store and bought a couple of pregnancy tests and took them when she got back to the school, and after waiting 5 minutes they both showed positive. She and Jake weren't actively trying but they sure weren't doing anything to avoid it.

When she finished up what she needed she packed her stuff up and headed to her car. She said her goodbyes to her friends and colleagues who had stayed late as well. She had been too busy to text or call Jake so she sent him a message. When she got her phone out she frowned at the lack of notifications.

Hey! Finally done for the day! I'm heading home! I can't wait to see you! I have some news!

She waited a good amount of time, more like the amount of time for her to get her stuff packed in her car before she looked at her phone again. Nothing. She was getting nervous and her stomach was in knots, she was worried.

All she could think about while driving home from work was that something bad happened to him. She loved him with all of her heart and would love to get married and have a family with him. She exited the base with ease and started her journey home. The time seemed to drag by especially since she wanted to get home.

When she got home his truck was not in the driveway and when she opened the garage it wasn't in there either. She felt like she could vomit right then and there. She turned off her car and headed inside.

When she got inside something felt off and when she noticed his phone charger missing from the counter she frowned. 'Maybe he came home at lunch to grab it', she thought which made her nerves ease up. As she was going through the house she was starting to get nervous again. Everything of his was mostly gone. She wasn't going to let it get to her just yet but when she got into the bedroom and saw the drawers open and the closet empty of his stuff tears welled up in her eyes. "This can't be happening." She said aloud to herself. She stood there in front of their now her bed and she felt sick, she rushed to the bathroom and vomited. When she was done she rinsed her mouth out and then noticed his toothbrush, cologne, and other bathroom necessities gone and that's when tears leaked out for the first time. "Fuck, this can't be happening. Not now!" She yelled out and ran to the living room to find extra shoes by the front door and his extra jackets gone. She stumbled to the couch sat down and called the only person she knew who would answer. Javy. It rang twice before he answered.

"Hello?" He answered while sitting in his and Jake's office while Jake was doing last-minute training and adjustments.

"Javy. Can you come over?" She asked

"Give me 10 minutes." Javy said and she sobbed out.

"Thank you." She said and they hung up.

She sat there for 10 minutes sobbing as she heard Javy’s car pull up. She rushed out of the house and crashed into his arms. "Everything ok?" He asked even though he knew what she had found.

"Everything of his is gone." She chocked out.

"What do you mean?" He asked as he ushered her inside.

"Everything that he owned." She said as they sat down on the couch "Nothing is here. He hasn't been answering my texts or calls. Do you think he found someone else?" She asked looking up at him with tear streaks down her face.

"No, I don't think he would do that. He loves you too much." Javy said bringing her in for a hug and silently cursing him out.

"I need him, Javy. I need him because I can't raise this baby on my own." She said and that shocked him into silence.

"Say that again." He said knowing he heard her correctly.

"I'm pregnant." She said looking up at him.

"Does he know?" He asked and she shook her head.

"No, I was gonna tell him tonight. I found out this afternoon. Please don’t tell him." She said and he brought her into a hug again.

"Everything is gonna be ok. I promise. I won't tell him." Javy said as he held his friend until her crying had turned to hiccups and her breath evened out. He held her there cursing Jake. He took his phone out and opened Jake's contact and hit text message.

I'm with Liz. You fucked up, man. Big time.

He hit send and got comfortable.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

Jake had just gotten into the locker room and was changing when his phone went off. He grabbed his phone and saw a message from Javy and his heart dropped. He never wanted to hurt her just protect her. Maybe he took it too far.

Tag list:

@kmc1989

@els-marvelvsp

@atarmychick007

@nyx2021

@persesphonestears

@grandstrangerphantom

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rearranged-fanfic · 11 months ago

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(Update 6/3)

Sit down a spell, weary traveler. Come and sit by my fire; bask in the warmth of the flame and rest your aching scrolling finger. You'll be sitting a while, for I have a tale to tell:

Okay, so I've had a Toshiba laptop for the better part of ten years. Maybe a little longer. That laptop has survived being struck by lightning, submerged in a bathtub, and literally having a whole bookcase topple down onto it. I thought it was immortal...

I was sadly mistaken.

About six months ago, I noticed that the typing was getting sluggish. I'd patter away at the keyboard and the letters would appear with a bit of lag. That's fine, since I use Dragon to talk-to-text for quite a bit of my writing. I really only use the keyboard for final assembly, editing, and doing quick rewrites. So, it really didn't bother me. Fastforward to April, which we will call The Great Depression. The time discrepancy between typing and having letters appear on screen became a whopping 40 seconds. Yes, I timed it.

But that was okay, because I could still use my Dragon headset.

Until I couldn't.

It would connect, but the words wouldn't appear on screen. I made sure that all of my programs were up-to-date, and that everything was working. The headset connected to my family's computers just fine. So that meant it was something wrong with mine.

Without being sure if it was the hardware or software at fault, I backed everything up to OneDrive and Google Docs.

I factory reset.

Twice. To no avail.

Over the next few days, my laptop stopped registering any keyboard input at all. It got to a point where I wasn't able to turn it on or off.

Taking it to an electronics store to get repaired didn't help, either. No luck. They said that it would be more cost effective to just buckle down and get a new one, since the age of the laptop meant that I would probably be constantly maintaining it.

My poor Toshiba died kicking and screaming, putting up a fight worthy of an epic ballad.

I saved up for a few weeks, got a new laptop, and went through the rigmarole of getting all of my programs back on it. My files are in order. My life is in shambles (but that's normal, LOL).

I DID do some story work without my computer, but... it's bad. Like, I'd die in shame if I posted anything that I thumbed in. So. Many. Spelling. Errors. How people write on their phone is beyond me. That's a talent I simply don't possess.

At this point, I'm thinking of renaming this story "HIATUS" lol. JK. But I'm seriously peeved that this happened after my last big break. Why couldn't the Depression and laptop breakdown coincide nicely? I guess that's too much to ask of the universe *Shakes fist at the sky*.

I'm creating a damn bingo card for every stupid thing that happens to me while I try to write. Because this is getting ridiculous. I broke my fingers, there was a total solar eclipse, I had a major-ish mental breakdown, and my computer bit the big one. With a free space, that's a bingo. Let's hope I don't get a blackout before the end of 2024.

I doubted the fanfiction curse. I really did. But it's apparently real. And this writer's curse has teeth, people. It bites hard.

I have my MerMay two-shot pretty well done (because I was typing it during The Great Depression), but the next chapter for REARRANGED is still rough. Crimson Chapter 3 is halfway done, but who knows how long that'll take.

The bottom line is that I'm alive and still working on the stories. The next update on this blog will be the posting of several chapters for a few different works. Fingers crossed.

Also, I'm very, very slowly answering the comments in my AO3 inbox. Some of them were pretty lengthy, so it might take a bit. Oof.

If there ever comes a time that I drop this fanfiction or am unable to continue for whatever reason, either I or my husband will be posting the entirety of my outline, as well as anything that's been pre-written for you guys to enjoy. That way there are no questions left unanswered or mysteries unsolved.

#rearrangedfanfic #behind the scenes #update #AO3 bingo

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privateanxieties · 2 years ago

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forget my mercy, take my blame (chapter 3)

Summary: Returning to previous ways of life always comes with complications. Yours has an attitude and goes by the name of Frank.

Words: 3.1K (canon-typical violence, Frank being a little shit);

PREVIOUS CHAPTER | NEXT CHAPTER

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You don't know how many times you've abused the replay button by now, but your thumb returns to it without fail each time the video feed ends — a never ending loop, and it's up to you to break it. But, you know that once you do, you won't be able to sit still.

And Sam Collins isn't home yet. He's had a busy day.

You spent the first hour of staking out his place in wonderment. Last week, his life was normal. He was the average point of his demographic, and maybe even doing a little better than could've been expected given his background. He was enrolled in the local community college and had a steady job for three years at the only repairs shop in town. They do a little bit of everything. So does Sam, you suppose. He wakes up without a firearm permit on a Saturday, and that same day robs a bakery three towns away and shoots an old woman in the chest. Versatile guy.

The second hour — or rather, the first quarter of that second hour — was spent getting his girlfriend out of the house and inadvertently out of his life. All it took was a brief phone call with a sultry greeting by a woman's voice and she stormed off not long after, suitcase in tow. The neighboring houses were next, your supply of knockout gas swiftly depleted on the two families. The use of incapacitating agents with an expiration date four years in the past is dubious at best, and you hope the adverse effects will be limited. It's a good neighborhood with good people, not unlike yours. Neither you, nor him, deserve it.

Halfway through the third hour, you were done inspecting the inside of his house for weapons and blocking all electronics on a 900-foot radius. Signal jammers are still cheap six years after you've last used one, a discovery that doesn’t surprise you in the slightest. Returning to this kind of life is as easy as it’s always been, a built-in failsafe for all those thinking their path could somehow deviate. You'll have to see about other items, but for now, you're as close to your goal as you can get by yourself. All that's left is for him to come to you, the end of a strict work-home routine he's kept for the past week nearing. Now, you can finally breathe.

It's strange. You're at ease in a place you're not supposed to be, doing something no sane person does. You're comfortable in a way you haven't been in years. Visiting the range now and then doesn't help— at most, it takes the edge off. There's no satisfaction in putting holes through wood or paper, no success in taking down a target that's meant to be there. That suspicion you've always had can't be ignored anymore. You really aren't made of the same stuff as other people, and you'll never have the life they do. You talked yourself into that fantasy last time, and where did that get you? Back where you started: an injustice happens, it's your fault, and everything unravels. Even if you don't go looking for it, it always finds you. Cryptic words spoken by a gruff voice surface in your memory.

Once it starts, that shit never ends. It follows you everywhere. Every goddamn place you set foot in.

Nice. Prophetic, even.

The man wasn't wrong, on the face of it. Whatever he saw when looking at you that day, he clocked it without hesitation. He witnessed the tell-tale signs of aggression and regret and blistering anger, and he called it out with no pretense or judgment. Although, he was mistaken about one thing: the assumption that it hadn't already started, whatever this is. Your obsession, your curse? God's plan for you, if you believed in that sort of thing? You're not sure why he was trying to prevent you from going down this road back at the bakery. Did he think it would be your first time taking a life? Would he have said anything if he'd known it wasn't? A sigh sinks you further into the only armchair in Sam Collins' living room.

The replay button disappears under your thumb once more, and you've already memorized every inch of the space displayed on screen, every movement contained within it. The angle providing the best view comes from the camera right above your doormat, one nestled inside the wooden awning. Hazel's head is covered with her favorite scarf, the one her nephew had sent during his travels across India along with a bracelet for you, a sign of gratitude for the care you offered the only relative he had left. His grandmother had told him anecdotes about you, like she told anyone around town who would lend an ear.

You watch her try to prevent your house from being broken into, or so she thinks. You listen as she tries to shame the man into leaving, and then feel as your phone vibrates with the sound of the gunshot. She falls forward into the arms of her killer, and he drops her like she isn’t worth anything, a weak cry bellowing from the speakers as contact with the floor breaks fragile bone. Her head cracks open and pained moans are muffled into the ground. Wood creaks as rapid footsteps depart from the scene. Hazel's breaths keep coming for seventy-two seconds, and she falls quiet not long before they stop. The replay button taunts with its reincarnation. Your eyes close again, just like the first time you saw it.

A quarter hour more passes as you sit with your thoughts, and then, things begin to happen. It's almost 1 AM when the rumble of an engine comes to a halt in the driveway, matching what you expect his car, an '09 Subaru Impreza, to sound like after fourteen years of use. Sam’s weekend shift at the new diner is over and he has come home to another night of hypervigilance and paranoia, because today marks one week since he took his first life. You put away the phone and replace it with the suppressed Kimber, the same one you should've used when you first laid eyes on him.

It'll be simple. Clean. You'll air out your grievances and then it'll be over. This isn't like Auckney, and it isn't like Houghton, Roanoke, or Fargo. You aren't pretending you can return to the bakery and your quaint two-bedroom suburban house anymore, dragging out your days until the merry-go-round starts up again. You'll always end up back here, so why expect you'll ever do anything different? You like this. It's something you can do, and do well. If you aren't allowed an alternative, either by design or sheer bad luck, then you'll embrace the only thing that makes sense. This is who you are. It's who you've always been, and you see it clearly now that the fog of domesticity and kindness has dissipated for the final time. So you sit there in the dark, a phantom, because you want him to see too. You want him to wonder if his eyes are playing tricks on him, because reality would be too cruel. You want him to look at you and realize that he's right to feel the weight of what he's done and to glance over his shoulder at every turn. Most of all, you want Sam Collins to know it does follow you, and that for him, it's arrived without delay.

You're watching the short hallway before the front door, gun propped up against the velvet arm of the chair, a perpendicular line of sight granting the best opening. And then footsteps arrive— not from the entrance, but from the other end of the hallway. Quiet, gentle… expectant. Your eyes snap to in the second before a voice like a rumble fills the room.

"Didn't I tell you not to do this?"

One single breath has time to leave you before a man comes into view. You train the gun on him instinctively, knowing you don't have time to get to your feet if he's carrying.

But, he isn't. He has nothing in either hand, which you can be sure about because he's keeping both palms spread open and level with his head, the same gesture he adopted last time you had a weapon pointing at him. You're rattled, and you aren't so confident it doesn't show.

How the fuck is he here?

You run through several common-sense deductions in the brief time it takes him to come to a standstill in the middle of the hallway directly across from you. He's here. He's here , which means he's been following you and every movement you've made for the past week. His question leaves no doubt— he knows what you're here to do. He managed to enter the house without tripping any of your alarms. You don't want to risk it and take your eyes off him, but it's hard to resist the brief glance out the window to your left. You bite the inside of your cheek almost in punishment. It isn't a 2009 Subaru Impreza that's occupying the driveway, but a black tactical van with annex lights mounted overhead and no visible brand insignia.

He parked in front of the house , and you were so arrogant you didn't even fucking check that the right person had arrived. Your finger caresses the trigger.

"Don't do that. I'm not here to hurt you."

Both your eyebrows raise involuntarily. You've yet to take control of your body's reactions, and every second that passes makes it feel like the upper hand is being transferred to him, even if you’re the one holding the gun. While he's standing there in jeans and a button-up, casually looking like he has all the time in the world, you're becoming more and more aware of each moment that led to this fiasco. The way he's watching you without clear intent adds to your ire. He's as calm as can be and you're descending into chaos. It makes you seethe, and you haven't forgotten about the main problem.

"Where is he?" you ask, jaw so tense your teeth barely unclench.

Again, you're both on the same page. You don't need to say the name, and he sure as shit doesn't need to pretend he has no idea what you mean. His gaze remains impassive as it devours you. It feels like his eyes are trailing every inch of you, from the tense shoulders to the feet aching to stand, and especially your hands.

"Told him to take off. Leave town for a while," he says, the tiniest movement suggesting a shrug.

Your eyes lock on to his with renewed violence. You trigger one shot next to his head, lead embedding in the drywall behind him. Left-side, two inches.

You can’t accept that the situation isn't in your control anymore, because you aren't able to get over the fact that he didn't even flinch. Instead, his gaze has become even more unbearable, skewering you in place. He's doing everything a person might do to communicate just how unimpressed they are. You don't know how to respond besides letting off another shot. Your breathing is now audible in the otherwise quiet room. Left-side, half an inch.

"Alright. You feel better now? Want another go?"

He's mocking you with an amused drawl, threatening your composure even further by pretending to lower his hands.

"Tell you what— Why don't I just take off a finger?" you sneer at him, unable to sit down any longer and rising to your feet. The living room isn't that large. Only seven or so of his steps would be enough to close the distance between you.

"Nah. If you were gonna do that, you'd have done it already. You can put that down. If I wanted to hurt you, I would've shot you through the window."

What he doesn't say is that he could've done it at any time in the past week that you'd been unaware of his presence, and he doesn't say it precisely because he knows you know. Again. The harsh grip on the Kimber is starting to cramp your hand, but you can't relax.

"Look. I meant what I told you back there. Hell, I spent all week wonderin' what the hell I'm doing, getting involved in shit that's none of my business. Maybe I should've let you do what you feel you have to do. But if you're going to take a life, I'm here to ask you to reconsider . "

You say nothing, because it's hard to find something to say in response to things you can't believe you're hearing. He's here to make you reconsider. He's arguing from the wrong end of the gun for a man whose only future is death by your hand, and you can't figure out what would motivate him to do such a thing. The question that leaves your lips makes his quirk upwards.

"Who the fuck are you?"

"Frank," he answers with a grim smile. "Don't suppose you'll tell me who you are?"

He's mocking you. Of course. It's not like he doesn't know — just like he's known everything else so far. A bitter scowl fights to take over your features.

"Hey, Frank ? I'm giving you one minute to tell me where Sam Collins went, and I'm being generous."

"Wow. Thank you," he says dryly, and you've had just about enough of his attitude.

"No, really. Remember that trigger itch? What's your plan for when time runs out on it?"

"Are you a vet?" he counters with his own question, completely ignoring your threat.

You wonder if you're dealing with some kind of lunatic. His eyes narrow, but his expression remains serene. He hasn't lost an inch of his composure, and yet you feel something lurking beneath that resolute surface.

"Wha—"

"Military. D'you ever serve?" he clarifies, and you could swear his voice has changed. There's something imbibing every word of a very simple question, and you don't understand it or why he's even asking at all.

"What's it matter to you?" you deflect.

"It matters because that Warrior you're pointin' at me is issued to US Marine Corps only, and unless you served or took it off a dead Marine, ain't no way you'd have one."

It's hard to mask the tension once his words are left to hang in the air between you, and you suddenly become even more aware of how much your arms are aching. You've never played the long game like this, and there's never really been cause for aiming at someone and not shooting. Conversations like this are not part of your life experience, colorful as that may be. Although, they do seem to be part of his. Whoever Frank is, you get the impression he's about as single-minded and relentless as a person could get, and something within you is repelled by the notion of being in his presence. It's the way he exudes restraint and rage in equal measure that twists sharp metal between your ribs and leaves a bitter taste in the mouth. It's his posture, rigid yet somehow at ease, that makes your cheek tingle without the ringing echo of a slap to accompany it. You don't like the way he looks at you. You don't like how familiar it all is. Something spills forward that you have no chance of catching, and the damage is already done.

"I didn't take it off a dead Marine. A dead Marine left it to me after he blew his brains out with it," you spit out with no preamble, look so poisonous it'd be useful in a bottle.

His turn comes to say nothing in response to your mindless confession, but he doesn't have to speak in order to reveal exactly what he's thinking. You gather it all from his eyes as he stares you down.

"I take it he didn't do that out in the field."

His voice is the roughest you've heard it thus far. Your arms hold in them a deep ache but you don't know how to lower the gun, the very thing that seems to have brought him to you in the first place. He remarked on it the first time you met too. You couldn't have known he recognized its origins.

"Made no difference in his mind where he was," you speak as evenly as you can. "Just like it makes no difference that you're here. I won't reconsider. I don't care where Collins ran off to, or how far he's gotten. He took something from me. There's nowhere he can go where I won't find him."

The words help reinforce your conviction, and they also seem to resonate with him. Either that, or he wasn't very adamant about persuading you to reconsider in the first place, because he isn't showing any signs of annoyance at your declaration. He doesn't reply or refute it in any way. There’s no fight. If anything, he seems passive — not quite defeated, not quite determined to try again. It's all the same to you. Getting away from him and towards your goal is the only thing you care about. Enough time was wasted here.

You breathe in slowly, and when you look at him next, your mind locks on to a singular path.

"Frank? Turn around."

Judging by the crinkling of his eyes, your request amuses him.

"Gonna shoot me?" he grumbles, lowering his arms another inch.

"That depends on you. Now, you're going to turn around, walk out that door and get in your van. I want you to drive off into the sunset, never to be seen again. I've no reason to hurt you. But if you get in my way again, I'll have a reason. We clear?"

His mouth turns up in a half-smile. For perhaps the first time since meeting him, you don't find his expression as condescending as the rest of him.

"In that case, we might have a problem."

Your finger caresses the curved edge of the trigger.

"And why's that?"

There's fire in his eyes as well as in his words.

"Because the man you're looking for is in that van. And you should know…" His arms come to rest by his sides. There is a subtle tremor in your own. "His name isn't Collins— it's Huerta . You kill him, and you'll be starting a war."

-to be continued-

A/N: Let me know what you thought of this chapter! From here on out the story will move into different territory and we're going to get into some delicious interactions between Frank and Reader. These two have a lot of issues between them and we'll start seeing some of them👀

#frank castle x reader #frank castle x you #frank castle imagine #frank castle #frank castle x reader smut #the punisher x reader #frank castle fanfiction

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apomaro-mellow · 1 year ago

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alright, i'm going to go ahead and made a rant post about this car situation just so i can get it out and put it to bed. I don't mind if yall wanna comment or whatever but after this I'm just done.

So we need to go back almost a year. My car at the time seemed to be on its last legs. There was a repair it needed that was going to cost like $1200 and I had already paid close to that amount just a few months prior for another repair. I didn't want to pay that again but was willing to save up until it was suggested that I start looking for another car.

I will give my dad props for this one and only thing. He held my hand during this process bc it was my first time. Every other car I had, had been gifted by my grandparents. This was my first time shopping for one. Now it gets interesting bc instead of just getting rid of my old car, my grandparents were going to foot the $1200 bill anyway so that my brother could get it.

I felt iffy about that situation but figured it was for the best since I'd be getting a vehicle with no problems. The problem came about when he decided to drive it around and rack up tickets while MY name was still on the title (this cause my insurance premium to shoot thru the roof but thankfully i got it fixed). I literally had to escort my brother to the DMV to sort out all the paperwork and even THEN he took forever to actually change the plates so I was STILL getting tickets on my record and I had to be the one to go and take what were still my license plates off the car.

This could have potentially been an asshole move, bc I had no idea where his new plates were, but that's not my responsibility. Lucky for him, the new plates were where? In the car, bc he never did anything with them after our DMV appointment. This all occurred in summer/fall 2023.

Then in December, he starts having problems with that car. It even stops on him a couple of times. There is talks of him getting another one. Just like me, all of his (many) previous cars were gifts from our grandparents. I should have probably said earlier but these are all USED cars. We're not getting brand new ones, but still, good condition that we've never had to pay a cent for.

It's also worth mentioning that in the like....six months my brother has had my old car he got hundreds of dollars worth of tickets. Not a single one he paid on his own. Either I took care of it bc they were in my name and he's literally gone to court for not paying, or my dad has paid. But I feel like I'm digressing.

About last week, he curses out my mom because she asks him to *checks notes* receive his infant child when his baby mama drops her off. Apparently that was disagreeable and he cursed her out on the phone, then later to her face when she got home. The part that stuck out in his rant to me was that no one in our family had ever done anything for him. I think just from what I've stated above, it's pretty obvious to see that's false.

So whyyyyyyy

Why why why

After that breakdown, my dad and grandparents thought "Let's just give him another car"?

It is exhausting to see the same thing happen again and again. But this time kind of burned me bad because he got the exact same car that I have. The one I had to shop for. The one I had to visit sellers for. The one I am currently on the hook for a $10,000 loan with like 15% interest. My mother told me this was the case but I didn't actually see the car until this morning.

Here's where I give my dad the benefit of the doubt a single time: It's a common car, dealers have a ton of them, it's probably still an attractive price range. And that's the end of it.

But what I see, is that I can do everything I was told to do: do well in school, get a degree, get a job, start building my career. And it gets me virtually the same as if I did none of those things and on top of it disrespected my parents to their faces.

Like really, why am I working so hard? If doing what I do gets me the same as a foul mouthed, lazy ass, ungrateful son who's shackin up with the most frustrating baby mama in the world then what the hell is this all for anyway?

#personal #home life #it's quite a bit #fun fact!#the baby mama is a bitch #who has gotten into a fist fight with both me and my mom :)#and my brother had the audacity to get mad #i need #to get out #of this house #just in case we're keeping score #im on my 3rd car the first 2 were three #my brother has probably had at least 2x and many and has never paid for any of them

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kpopimagi · 2 years ago

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A Flower Under The Rain [Part 4]

Characters: Baekhyun, Kyungsoo and Kang Gyuri (OC) Genre: Angst, Romance Au: Hanahaki!Au Type: Series Word count: 6,503

It all began with a cough and then, a subtle sting in her chest. Kang Gyuri cried, knowing that in a matter of months, she would be another figure in the death toll of the most dangerous and cruelest outbreak in human history.

“Why are you so…annoying!?” She grunted, “How many times do I have to repeat myself?”

Gyuri groaned, kicking the air under her desk and almost pulling her hair out in frustration. Taking a deep breath, cracking her knuckles, and focusing herself back on the task, Gyuri read the string of complaining messages once again. She set herself to explain the client the same thing again for what it felt, the trillionth time.

A few years back, her father settled a small room of their house as her work office, and that was the most excited she had seen him. He took the project to set up that space to her liking very seriously. Her father went from being a painter to a craftsman. He also repaired any electricity issues or whatever she needed him to fix to make that room the most comfortable home office in the world. Gyuri never missed the chance to shower him with praises. However, sometimes even the familiarity of her safe space wasn't enough to fight back the stress of dealing with other human beings.

Despite her explanations, the client started complaining again. She deflated on her seat, wondering if she could just curse at him. Gyuri was pondering the possibility of doing it and getting a complaint about her performance because, at this point, she didn’t care anymore. She had been logged in the session with him for almost 3 hours and yet, didn't make any progress. For the last two years, the man kept demanding upgrades on his website way above the budget of what his basic package could cover. In all that time, whenever he requested to talk to her, Gyuri could not make him understand that.

Looking at the clock on the other side of the room, she just tried to calm herself down. She was lucky enough to have supervisors that weren’t that strict overall. They didn't care that much about her office hours as long as she covered a 40-hour quota every week, although she set herself a clocking in time. Some days, depending on her mood, she stayed in her pajamas all day, but most of the time, she changed her clothes. It didn’t really matter to anyone, but somehow, it gave her some sense of belonging. It made her feel like she was a functional nine-to-five office worker.

It was pouring down outside, she hadn't realized. The sky was grey, the temperature kept dropping, and Gyuri made a decision. She closed all the tabs and programs and signed out without even saying goodbye to the client. Her temples and the back of her head pulsed in an imminent headache, and just a minute later, her work phone started whirring on her desk. She didn’t have to look at the screen to know the client was calling her. She let it buzz like always until it stopped, and when she grabbed it, it was to find another missed call from the nine the same client had made on that day.

Letting out a tired sigh at his obnoxiousness and insistence to talk to her, but Gyuri never talked to clients. She avoided it at all costs, but she texted the man nonetheless, apologizing for going offline so suddenly. She excused herself, saying it was due to a power outage. Rolling her eyes at the new string of messages, she assured him that she would keep working on his website as soon as she had power again. That was obviously a lie, but he did not need to know that.

Gyuri simply turned off the phone and practically leaped out of her seat to get ready. The gloomy weather looked like the perfect chance to lift her spirit, relax a little, and be done for the rest of the day, and she lost no time to put her favorite raincoat on. Once zipped up, she twisted her body left to right, rubbing her arms on the sides of her body. She loved the swish-swish sound the fabric produced whenever she did it and made her squeal a little in happiness. Without fail, finally wearing one of her favorite pieces of clothing always filled her heart with joy.

She tried to wear her raincoat as regularly as possible. It was bright green if you look at it from an angle. If you look at it from a different one, it glimmered blue, and sometimes you could see purple gleams, and some other times, yellow ones, and the more she moved, the crazier the colors were. Somehow, Gyuri still had it hard to believe she had something as fashionable as an iridescent raincoat. That simple garment was too hip and high-end for her. It definitely wasn’t something she would wear, but it was the kind of crazy colors she liked and wished she was edgy enough to wear more often.

Gyuri grabbed her rain boots, her purse with her phone, wallet, a simple lip balm, and the tin can with just a couple of candies left in it, and that was it. She thought about taking her watch as well, but the pouring rain was pleasant and soothing enough that she considered there was no need for it.

“I’m going out mom!” She yelled, skipping down the stairs, carrying her rain boots, and heading out when she heard her mother hurrying up to her.

“Where are you going?”

“To get some coffee.” She replied, grunting as she pushed one foot into the boot, “Maybe even go to the bookstore.”

“Do you have money?” Her mother asked, already pulling her coin purse out.

She meant to argue. She didn’t need her mother to give her pocket money to go out, but when Gyuri looked at her, she seemed to be out of herself. Whatever made her mother hesitate, she brushed it off as fast as she could, cleared her throat, and pulled a couple of checks off her purse.

“Here, get yourself a nice dessert. Something really sweet.” She said, but Gyuri noticed the frailty in her voice.

Her mother slipped the checks in one of the pockets of her raincoat. Before Gyuri could say anything, she walked away to the kitchen, leaving her at the entrance, completely taken aback.

After the dreadful day of the news, the mood at home calmed down to a certain degree. Although they didn’t openly talk about her problem, Gyuri noticed the sadness and apprehension in how her parents handled themselves around her. Whereas her mother kept cooking, making all of her favorite dishes, and randomly giving her pocket money. Her father’s grieving process was a lot more heartbreaking.

It had been only a week, and she couldn’t dismiss it anymore. Her father would come into her room after dinner and just sit down and talk to her. He’d bring out a random topic he read in the newspaper or something that happened at work, and just like that, they would jump from one subject to another. The discussions always went from a well-articulated debate on social media regulations to laughing at some silly meme he asked her to explain. Every single time, their conversations came to an end in the same way, and that was with her laughing.

“You must be tired.” He’d say, after a while and before pressing a soft kiss on her forehead, “Have a goodnight, pumpkin.”

Her father would leave with a forced smile on his face, and Gyuri pretended she couldn’t hear him break down outside the room even if it crushed her heart every single time it happened.

Gyuri never mentioned anything to them, and she knew they didn’t mean to overwhelm her with the attention, but there was so much she could handle before feeling like she was going to explode. When the weather decided to mirror the heaviness in her heart, she couldn’t help but go out and try to make the most out of it.

The bus ride to her favorite coffee shop was almost uneventful until she felt her phone buzzing and her mood sank when she saw a new text from Baekhyun. She ignored it, burying the phone deep in her purse, but found it impossible not to think about it for the rest of the ride. No matter how much she tried to focus on anything other than him, he remained on her thoughts.

It seemed like Baekhyun gave up on his efforts to find out what was going on with her, which she was mildly grateful for. A week later, apart from the usual texts he sent her to share his favorite memes or a new favorite song, nothing much happened at that end. However, their weekly hangout coming was enough to make her a bundle of nerves, and she couldn’t formulate a plan to skip it without making him suspicious.

Arriving at the bus stop a few minutes later, Gyuri jumped out to the rain, and the rhythmic pitter-patter of the raindrops against the hood of her raincoat made her so happy. She had it almost impossible to stop a smile from spreading across her face.

She liked the rain.

Most of the time, Gyuri felt guilty for finding it amusing when she saw people struggling with their umbrellas. Somehow, it cheered her up. The rain also made people quiet. When everybody was immersed in their rush to locate some shelter and avoid the chaos, Gyuri always found herself pleasantly lost in its music. When most people ran away from it, she embraced the stillness and the peace. The rain muted every scary noise and stopped people from forcing her to talk.

The rain granted her the possibility to be out there, feeling carefree and alive. It allowed her to hum to herself without worrying if anyone could hear her voice, jump into puddles, feel her nose getting cold, and her fingertips numb.

She lived for rainy days.

Immersed in looking down to the ground and the satisfying and perfectly chaotic patterns of the raindrop splatters and ripples on the floor, Gyuri's happy self-absorption came to a stop. She bumped against a body, making her step back in surprise.

“Sorry.”

She heard at the same time she mumbled her apology, but even the music of rain was a lull in comparison to his soft voice. Gyuri looked up to find the ciabatta man, staring at her just as surprised as she was. However, the first thing she noticed was that his eyes under his black cap had a sad glint to them. What were the odds of running into him in such a big city?

“How are you feeling?” He asked, showing a very tiny hint of a smile.

Gyuri was not sure. She was happy for the time being in that exact moment under the rain but thinking on something further than her immediate mood felt treacherous. She didn't bother to give him more than a shrug.

“Do you want a coffee?” She said instead, trying to ignore her looming anguish.

He helped her. He essentially saved her life and stayed with her when she felt desolated. Gyuri owed it to him, but she didn't know how to repay such kindness. A cup of coffee had to do for now.

“I was on my way to get one, actually.” He said, and his small smile got wider. “Do you mind?”

The ciabatta man pointed out somewhere in the opposite direction of where she was walking to, and Gyuri found herself gladly turning around and joining him on his way to the coffee shop. That simple action felt liberating somehow, and she genuinely smiled for the first time, probably since the diagnosis, and that felt invariably better. She even felt comfortable enough to let out a chuckle when he arranged his umbrella to cover her as well, despite her having her raincoat on.

“I've realized that you're still a stranger.” She said after the first block of a silent walk.

“Do Kyungsoo.” He said unceremoniously, and even his name, with that deep voice of his, had a nice ring to it, “What about you? You're also still a stranger.”

“Kang Gyuri.”

“Nice to meet you.” He replied.

After the polite and discrete introductions, they kept walking side by side in a comfortable silence under the rain. Somehow and out of nowhere, Gyuri had the urge to explain herself to the considerate stranger.

“About the other day, he wasn't lying.” Gyuri started, focusing herself on the curtains of rain falling in the street, “I don't have any friends.”

Gyuri never thought that saying that out loud would have such an effect on her. It was a sad admission. She always pretended it didn’t bother her, but it did. She did not have friends. The only one she got was going to be the cause of her death.

“I have problems talking to people.” She admitted with a sigh.

“You don’t seem to have problems talking to me.” He pointed out, and Gyuri had to agree.

She looked at him, wondering how on earth was so easy to articulate words in front of him. His proximity felt comfortable, and the noticeable lack of judgment in his eyes was reassuring.

He grabbed her hand, and she noticed right away that her nails were different. The pinkish and natural tone of her skin was suddenly tinted with a yellowish tinge. Red swirls spotted them and looked like blood bruises under her fingernails, making her hands look sick.

Gyuri realized then why her mother faltered earlier that day. Bringing her hands closer to her face, she had to come to terms that her body was finally outwardly caving into the disease.

“At least they aren't fuchsia.” He grumbled, and Gyuri couldn’t hold the snort that came from the bottom of her chest.

“Your nails were bright pink?” She asked, amused just to imagine him with bright-colored fingernails.

“Do you want to get them done?” He said, looking over his shoulder to a nail salon across the street, “I painted mine when the bruising showed up.”

“I would never guess you as someone so versed on the subject.” She said, and her comment was received with a small and lopsided smile, “What color did you use?”

“Nude.”

“Of course.” Gyuri chuckled, “I’ve never gotten my nails done before so I guess I can go wild for once.”

With a nod and without letting her hand go, Kyungsoo pulled her forward to cross the street. Once on the other side and as he held her hand, Gyuri openly stared at him, unable to utter a word. He should have let her hand go already. Although he didn't, the warmth of his skin was so pleasantly comfortable around her numb fingers that she simply tightened her hold onto it.

They came into the small salon, and she stood still at the entrance, waiting for Kyungsoo to manage his umbrella. Her eyes wandered around the place to find a spot to hang her raincoat dripping with water when she was welcomed by a lady. She had such a kind and wrinkled smile that Gyuri found so heartwarming, and that was already prodding her to a rack where she could leave her coat.

“Good evening,” Kyungsoo greeted once he settled his umbrella in a corner, “We don’t have an appointment.”

“Oh don’t worry,” the woman smiled, offering them both to sit, “my next two appointments have been canceled because of the rain.”

Without even realizing how easy and fast everything was happening, Gyuri was suddenly seated in front of the lady. She placed her hands over the table, and it didn't occur to her that her hands might be ugly or weird, but the woman paused when she saw them. She had seen sick hands before, and it showed in her reaction. The lady got over it quickly and placed a gentle hand on top of hers, in a comforting way Gyuri found quite soothing.

“What color would you like?” She asked.

Gyuri let out a tiny squeak. She hadn't even assimilated the situation she was suddenly in, let alone make a decision so fast. She could go safe and do the same as Kyungsoo. She could get her nails nude and plain, but something tiny in her head screamed at her. Gyuri felt suddenly bold.

“Like your raincoat?” The woman asked when Gyuri looked over her shoulder to observe her coat hanging by the entrance, and she nodded, “Nice choice!”

The woman smiled brightly at the garment and was genuinely excited to get everything ready. In less than an hour, Gyuri was walking out of the salon with her hands upright. She stared at the iridescent gradient on her nails as her fingers seemed to sparkle with glimmers of green, blue, and purple just like she wanted. Gyuri couldn’t believe just how pretty her hands looked.

“Shouldn’t you be at work?” Kyungsoo asked as he walked by her side, still holding the umbrella for her.

“I work from home.” She replied mindlessly and absorbed with her new nails, “I needed a break.”

“What do you do?”

“Tech support. I’m a web developer.” She mumbled, “What about you?”

“I'm unemployed.”

She stumbled, forgetting about her nails for a second, and stared at him dumbfounded. Gyuri quite shamelessly scanned him from head to toe and was about to point out that he didn’t dress like an unemployed person. However, she looked at him better and had to reconsider her first impression. His style consisted of black trainers, simple jeans, a black jacket, a black cap, and nothing else.

“It’s by choice.” He chuckled, catching her in the middle of her not-so-subtle inspection, “I also needed a break.”

“That's good,” Gyuri said, ignoring the embarrassment of getting caught and wishing that he wouldn't believe she was that bold, “By the way, where did you get the candies? I'm running out of them already.”

“I can take you there, it's not that far.”

***

“How much should I take?” Gyuri asked, weighing candy sacks in each hand.

Just like Kyungsoo said, the candy shop was a few blocks away from where they were. But what felt beyond anything she could imagine was that Gyuri was practically spending the evening with a man she just met. Granted, they both seemed comfortable in spending that time in silence and if he ever decided to start a conversation, she found it easy to engage with him.

They were at the candy shop, and Gyuri was over the moon with the number of designs, shapes, and flavors they had; and she couldn’t make her mind of what to buy. She observed that Kyungsoo was capable of entertaining himself just by looking around and time to time, suggested to her to try something.

“How long did it take you to go through one of these?” She asked again, pondering if buying such a big sack of rock-hard licorice-flavored candies was just too much.

“A couple of days.” He answered softly and stood next to her without being able to hide the gloom in his face.

“That’s a lot of candies…” Gyuri muttered, suddenly worried and the bags that didn't feel as heavy, in a blink of an eye, were a lot lighter, “How many do you get now?”

“I don’t.”

Gyuri let out a sound. Of course, he wouldn’t if he had survived the disease already. He didn’t need them to grasp to the least possible hint of relief anymore. He was free of relying on such tiny things to stay alive. She felt, even if it was faint at first, a wave of despair ready to take over her but was determined that she had to try and push it back for as long as she could. Or at the very least, keep it at bay while she was still with Kyungsoo. Gyuri kept her mind on the trail of the task and asked the employee for two sacks of candies, one with fruit designs and the other with cutesy and adorable drawings of dragonflies.

“If you don’t need them then why do you still carry them around?” She asked discreetly as they both watched the employee add more and more colorful candies to the scale.

“Sense of security,” Kyungsoo added just as softly.

She couldn’t blame him. She had felt it too. She felt the safety all over her body just by knowing she had that small tin can in her purse and the sensation of almost instant ease when she put the candies in her mouth.

“May I ask something?” She said, gathering all of her bravery, “Did you survive the disease?”

Kyungsoo froze on his spot. She saw his jaw clench and going rigid as if the simple question was painful and unrequited. For an instant, Gyuri started to regret it and nagged herself for the intrusion.

“I don’t want to talk about it.” He said under his breath, stepping away from her, “Not here, at least.”

It was hard to gather if the question offended him somehow but Kyungsoo left the store and waited for her outside, and when she came out, they resumed their walk to the coffee shop in silence. If Gyuri had any other questions, his reaction made her reevaluate her approach. The last thing she wanted was to upset the only person in the world that fully understood her situation but also seemed willing to help her out.

“Screw it,” she muttered to herself, skipping forward, “What do I have to lose anyway?”

Decided and determined, Gyuri saw the small pools of water on a set of stairs in front of them. With a sudden surge of audacity, she ran down into them, splashing water around her. She felt her cheeks burning and a tiny hint of embarrassment coming over her, but it wasn’t nearly as mortifying as she thought it would be. Maybe that was what being outgoing was all about; just going for it no matter how scary it was just to see that it was not as bad.

She looked over her shoulder and found Kyungsoo standing at the top of the stairs, observing her silently. Nothing was showing on his face but a complete and perfectly blank expression.

“What’s the point of having rain boots if you’re not going to jump into puddles?” She added, trying to ignore the self-consciousness as she concentrated on showing her boots to him.

“Cute,” He added as he walked down the stairs with a smile that Gyuri was sure had finally reached his eyes. “I like your raincoat.”

“I love it,” she agreed, grinning as she moved her arms around so the colors and the swish-swish sound of the fabric would change with her movements, “I’m like a dragonfly.”

A deep laugh drew her attention off her silly dance. The sound was so soft, short, and yet so deep and so genuine, it felt so distinctive of Kyungsoo. She was so engrossed staring at his adorable and round face scrunched in an entertained laugh that she found interesting the expression just lasted for a couple of seconds.

“What?” She asked, slightly taken aback when he joined her.

“It suits you.” He added, giving her a beautiful and easy smile that confused her before he walked away.

Snapping herself from the daze, Gyuri caught up with him, lost in her memories. Back then, Baekhyun made a face when she showed him the iridescent raincoat on the shop's display window. She remembered his expression vividly and his lack of comments when she tried the coat on before buying it. He didn't say anything mean about how she looked with it, but also, nothing good, and right next to her was someone that happened to find her cute making a fool of herself with it.

A few blocks later, they arrived at the coffee shop, and they went in. Gyuri approached the counter only to stagger back a little when she realized that Kyungsoo was behind her, looking at the menu from a distance.

“What do you want?” He asked when she joined him and let a couple go first and order before them.

“I’ve never come here so I wouldn’t know…” She wondered, reading the menu, “What’s good?”

“Everything.” He replied, glaring and then squinting at the menu board, “Although chocolate is their specialty, they bring it from Mexico. It’s really good.”

“Hot chocolate then.”

“Dessert?”

“Will you be getting anything?” Gyuri asked, approaching the counter to get a better look at the cakes, and Kyungsoo followed her.

“Same as you.” He said as they read the dessert menu together.

“The cheesecake looks good.” She pointed out the gigantic slice of cheesecake behind the glass, and with a nod, Kyungsoo went to the checkout to order.

Gyuri watched him approach the employee at the counter. She simply stared at his back as he paid and weirded out about the whole exchange. She started to wonder what kind of power and charm he had that she didn’t freak out like she would have whenever she visited a new establishment.

As if realizing that she was in an unfamiliar place full of noisy people, Gyuri looked around, and she just knew. She was convinced that the stares and whispers weren’t real. She was aware that her mind tended to play tricks on her when she was in public and made it feel like every rude glance and every conversation was about her. However, she struggled to convince herself that the prettiest girl behind the bar wasn’t judging her from afar.

Another employee whispered to the pretty girl as they gave glances at Gyuri's general direction. After that, she couldn’t just find a reason good enough to ignore them. They were positively talking about her. In a lame effort to shield herself from their judgy glares, slowly and as unsuspectedly as she could, Gyuri hid behind a column and patiently waited for Kyungsoo.

He was back in no time with a vibrating pager in his hands, and almost sighing out in relief, she followed him further into the shop to find a place to sit. She observed him as they waited and tried to come up with a sensitive plan to approach the subject again. However, as much as she focused her mind only on him, the attractive employee behind the counter with pale skin and pitch-black hair kept capturing her attention.

“What?” Kyungsoo asked, looking over his shoulder, following her gaze.

“I was just thinking. That girl over there.” She said absently, prodding her head to the pretty girl, “Isn’t she gorgeous?”

Noticing the sudden attention from her and Kyungsoo, the girl seemed to be caught off guard and ducked behind the counter. Gyuri snorted at her reaction, sometimes her mind didn't play tricks on her, and they did judge her.

“Do you like girls?” Kyungsoo asked, bringing her back to the conversation at hand.

“Most unlikely, I like Baekhyun and I know for a fact that Baekhyun is a man, so…” She admitted. It took her a couple of seconds to realize what just came out of her mouth, “Don’t get any weird ideas.”

For some reason, that only made Kyungsoo find her slip even funnier. His cheeks went up in a conceited chuckle that totally meant he was indeed thinking the worst of her.

“I’m just certain he has a...” She added, “...a penis.”

Gyuri felt her face flaring in embarrassment as she tried to fix her blunder. But the longer she kept talking, the worse everything sounded, and Kyungsoo finally cackled, thoroughly amused. His shoulders even moved in restrained laughter.

“Don’t. Do not be a perv,” Gyuri warned, thinking as fast as she could to explain her poor choice of words as she raised the vibrating pager at him. “He fell asleep watching a movie, he was wearing sweatpants and he got it hard in his sleep. That’s it.”

He laughed again, and the deep timbre of his voice came out just as soft and short as the first time, and any trace of embarrassment vanished almost instantly. Gyuri simply watched him sitting there, chuckling softly and unbothered as the tips of his ears peeked out of his cap with an unusual red tint.

It was an amusing incident indeed. Gyuri was grateful that Kyungsoo took it as such but remembered why she kept that particular memory buried deep, deep, and hidden inside her. Almost instantly, every single and dangerous thought came to the surface of her heart with all of its power. Despite all of her efforts for months, she just couldn't ignore them anymore.

“From that day on, I started to wonder what it would be like to…you know,” She mumbled, unsettled to admit it out loud.

“Sleep with him?” Kyungsoo asked, completing the sentence for her, and she had no other choice but to agree.

Gyuri felt the weight of that confession instantly, and the implications of accepting that her body desired her best friend in a very lustful way crushed everything she believed in. It was humiliating to acknowledge that she was that weak. It felt like a joke that something as natural a sex could weigh that much on her feelings for Baekhyun that she had to hold her head, afraid of it splitting in half out of frustration.

Kyungsoo wasn’t laughing anymore. She couldn’t sense him moving, but she was too flustered and embarrassed to even open her eyes and let their gazes meet. There was so much judgment she could take in a day, and seeing it in his eyes, would nudge her off control.

“You love him and everything about him,” He assured, “never be ashamed of that.”

Gyuri sat up straight and just gaped at the guy seated in front of her. Kyungsoo wasn't even talking directly to her. He had his eyes lost in the pouring rain outside the coffee shop, but there was a tiny trace of remorse in his voice. One thing she could tell was that the guy delivering those words wasn’t only the ciabatta man that selflessly helped her out but a Hanahaki Disease survivor.

“Did you get the curse because you...” She intended to ask but hesitated when he looked at her, attentively, “...you slept with her?”

“I don’t think it works that way with sex but I bet it is just as dangerous.” He said, “Have the two of you…”

Gyuri shook her head instantly and almost furiously at the prospect of getting intimate with Baekhyun. She could feel her cheeks blushing just to think about it, even if she couldn't afford to let her imagination wander in that scenario.

“He’s my best friend and my social skills are close to nonexistent.” She explained with a shrug, “This is the closest I’ve ever been to a date.”

“A date?”

Gyuri panicked and looked at him when she heard him, barely aware that she was the one that said that particular word first and he was just repeating it. As if on cue and saved by the bell, quite literally, the pager started buzzing loudly over the table. Kyungsoo left to pick their order up, giving her the time to calm her nerves and remind herself to control her mouth.

She did not have much to do to distract herself. Gyuri overheard the couple that came in after them, sitting a couple of tables away. By the tone in their voices, she could assume the argument was nowhere close to being solved. Thankfully, Kyungsoo was back, carrying a tray with their drinks and a massive slice of cheesecake decorated with ice cream, strawberries, and whipped cream.

“Is it true then?” She asked again as they dug into the cake at the same time, “Did you beat the curse?”

“I think so.” He said before getting the first mouthful.

“How did you do it?”

“I'm not entirely sure.” He started, chuckling when she grabbed a huge chunk of cake, “I was just waiting for it to happen but then I realized she wouldn't care any less if I died for her. She would not shed a tear for me.”

“Was she mean to you?” She asked, and Kyungsoo shook his head.

“She didn’t even know my name.”

Gyuri halted. As if what he said meant nothing, Kyungsoo took his chance to take a piece of cake to his mouth, and she couldn't bring herself to say anything. She felt guilty because at least Baekhyun was close to her. At least he knew her well and would care enormously if she just dropped dead one day.

“What happened then?” She asked, not sure if it was alright to keep going.

“I guess it was the anger.” Kyungsoo proceeded, placing his spoon down and nudging the rest of the cake to her, “I was angry at her and my strong feelings for her so I started letting it all out.”

Getting startled by another nudge of the plate, Gyuri got another spoonful of the cake as Kyungsoo leaned back on his chair. He seemed to get himself comfortable despite the nature of their conversation.

“I let my hatred for her take over every other feeling.” He explained, looking at her straight into her eyes, “At some point, I even wished she could be dead and when she did die a few years ago, I felt nothing.” Suddenly, the cheesecake lost its appeal. Gyuri couldn't find it in herself to eat more, especially when Kyungsoo kept sharing his story. “At first I thought there was something wrong with me so I went to the funeral house and I wasn't even sad. I should have died of heartbreak right then and there but I didn't. I suppose, replacing that blind love with something equally strong is the answer but I can not be certain.”

“But I can't hate Baekhyun.” Gyuri admittedly said, breathing out in resignation, genuinely considering the idea, “As annoying and clingy as he can be, I can’t just hate him one day. He would be pestering me the moment I start to get myself distanced from him. He will notice something is wrong, and...”

A glass broke.

It all happened before any of them could react.

There was a whimper and a scream. People gasped. There were several screams, more astonishing gasps, and curses. Then there was a cry, and Gyuri heard it all. She saw it happen right in front of her. She saw the tears and a pair of hands begging, but her eyes were glued to the flower petals falling to the floor. Her attention was on the man dropping into his knees, clutching his chest in pain. She could hear the woman’s cries as she covered her nose and stepped away from him, and yet, her eyes could only see the pastel pink flower petals falling from his mouth. But everything turned into chaos when the sound of cracking bones resonated through the air.

The man’s back broke. He twisted in pain, screaming at the air above him and piercing everyone's ears with his agony as his eyes widened out in terror. His body trembled violently once again, and to everyone’s shock, they all saw the roots taking over the skin of his neck. His screaming was cut off by the gagging, and Gyuri heard herself whimper at the sight of something crawling out from his mouth.

“Don’t look.” She heard Kyungsoo whisper, and everything blacked out.

Her eyes were covered, and the familiar safety of his hold shifted her around as she cried. Gyuri was aware that she was walking and that her body barely managed to stay upright. Kyungsoo kept whispering to her ear as he pressed her head into his chest and his arms held her tremblingly figure.

“That’s what is going to happen to me?” She asked, gasping for air. "That will happen to me?"

Gyuri felt her body falling, only to find herself sitting down with Kyungsoo's help. She was crying, or so she thought because a gust of freshness and humidity hit her face, and when she opened her eyes, she realized they were out of the coffee shop.

“Breath, Gyuri,” Kyungsoo ordered, kneeling in front of her and taking the cap off so she could see his face, “What do you need?”

“My watch.” She cried, gasping for air and rubbing a hand over her naked wrist, “I forgot my watch.”

“Would my watch work?” He asked, showing his wrist to her.

Gyuri’s mind instantly gave her a hundred reasons why it wouldn’t work. The rim of Kyungsoo's watch was too thick, and the border was sharper than the rounded and worn edges of her watch. His was wider than hers. It even looked heavier than hers. However, she knew it was imperative to calm herself down before falling into a full-blown panic attack, so she forced her body and nodded.

Without any hesitation, Kyungsoo took his watch off and put it on her wrist. He placed her other hand on top of it and stayed there, in front of her, waiting patiently.

“Gyuri, you have a watch now.” He reminded her when it looked like she forgot how to breathe for a second, “what do you do with it?”

“I count.” She cried.

That was right. Gyuri needed to count for the exercise to work, and just by saying it out loud somehow set her brain to focus on the next objective. She traced the rim of the watch as she usually did with hers. It didn't work at first that she had to stop.

“Why don't you look around and tell me what you see?” He insisted, his tone still calm and gentle and never looking away.

Gasping for more air, Gyuri started again. She traced her finger around the rim and somehow noticed that Kyungsoo's watch was sharp and cold to her skin but felt solid and stable as a rock. After a couple of rounds to it, she dared herself to look around to discover they were right outside the coffee shop, seated on a small bench next to the entrance and shielded by a canopy.

“There’s a green bus there.” She started as the bus passed by the street while her finger went around the rim of the watch. “A red helmet. A store's fallen blackboard there. A black umbrella over there.”

“Keep going,” Kyungsoo encouraged her, “what else do you see?”

Gyuri closed her eyes. She was aware that fixing her attention on someone wasn’t the best idea. She shouldn't use a person to ground herself, but she couldn’t help it. The more she looked around, the harder it was to evade it. He had been quite a constant in her fight to overcome her pain that all she could do was to look into his big and round, brown eyes. His round and symmetrical face. His thick brows. The faint shadow above his lip. Oh, and his big and plump lips.

She let it ground her nonetheless. She held onto it.

“I see you.”

#AFUTR #EXO #Kyungsoo #Baekhyun #EXO Fanfic #EXO Fanfiction #Hanahaki #Hanahaki Disease #Romance #Angst #Fanfic #Fanfiction

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chilidogloverr · 2 years ago

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“I just came from r/196” ask game

Saw another post. I think I should invite y'all to one of our longstanding traditions. Answer the questions then tag 10 (or more) people. I'll go first.

Name? Jarrod

Pronouns and gender? they/he, guy???

Sexuality? Pansecual

Country? USA MERICA FUCK YEAH🦅🦅🦅🦅🦅🦅🦅🦅🦅🦅🦅🦅🦅🦅🦅🦅🦅🦅🦅🦅🦅🦅

Top 5 fandoms? hazbin/helluva, fnaf, team four trees two, i forgor the rest

What is your Most forbidden snack? fabuloso also chapstick

Would you pet a bug? scared scared scared of bugs. dont like them. scary scary.

Share a weird fact/story about yourself with the class. i love fixing things, no matter what it is. my silly little brain just latches onto it like a puzzle, which it kinda is. i can already fix most electronic devices, or alteast know how to (FUCK apple and their stupid fucking anti repair policy. thats actual fucking bullshit. i dont want to have to pay for a 200 dollar course and license to fix your shitty god damn phones. mac books and ipads are aight. but FUCK apple as a company. all this does is protect their silly little fucking income from their stupid ass fucking phones breaking all the fucking time. all it does is make it so that people who do fix phones for a living fucking cant, and no devices to fix means no food on the fucking table for them or their families. they're toying with peoples livelihoods for a bit of fucking profit.) if i dont know how to fix it (cars, microwaves, tvs, literally anything that could break) i want to learn

What does the color blue taste like? mmm yumby

What is the most beautiful thing you've ever seen? the ocean. it goes on forever. it doesnt stop. i didnt realize that until i saw it in person. it stopped me dead in my tracks.

What is the stupidest thing you've ever done? ive got this protein bar. in 2020 (my second year of marching band, freshman year) i was eating a box of them on the way to marching band camp. i lost one. this was in july. i found it on the ground still sealed in january of the following year. i still have it. im going to eat it my senior year at the end of the year band dinner. i have not done it yet. im going into my senior year. im going to do it. it will kill me. i will not regret it.

Stupidest thing you've seen/heard someone else do/say? a pastor for a church i used to attend (unfortunately hes my uncle) blamed crime and evil on transgender people

Hyperfixation song? long list. Starman David Bowie, banana man tally hall, mr white keys cherry poppin daddies, play that funky music wild cherry, cant take my eyes off you frankie valli, sh-boom the ink spots, the devil went down to georgia the charlie daniels band

Is there any meaning behind your profile picture and/or username? I've been asked several times where "Chapstick Man!" comes from. It comes from TF2. I named a rocket launcher "chapstick gun" with the description "ngl chapstick taste kinda good" and then i thought the joke was funny and it stuck. my name is now Chapstick Man on like everything. i have not been sued yet. Im too cool to be sued.

Dream career as a child? also electronics repair technician (i am answering these out of order)

Dream career as an adult? still kinda a child ig. but i want to be an electronics repair technician, running my own little computer/electronics repair shop. i already know how to do it, i just need a building and to be 18 (i turn 18 in december) and people to come and give me their stuff to fix. i love fixing things.

Thoughts on cilantro? its aight ig

Have you ever been banned from a location and if so, why? I havent. but i plan to be. i am going to be silly and they cannot prevent it.

What is your cursed food combination? I did my burgers in ketchup if i want ketchup, i did my biscuits in gravy for biscuits and gravy

Trans rights? are epic!!!!!!

@everyone im lazy

#196 #rule

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thelightningthatjumpsbetween · 2 years ago

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Forty Five

RE8 | Wintersberg | Romance, Slow Burn | Action, Sci-Fi

Sequel of Winters and the Beast, a Resident Evil: Village Story

Table Of Contents

Ethan could smell Donna’s cartofi cu carne de porc as he dressed; his mouth watered. Just as he pulled his shirt over his head and inhaled, he remembered that he would have to confess his strange behavior, and his stomach dropped again. He stared in the mirror skeptically; he was clean and shaven, his hair in its simple style. Grey sweater, blue jeans, tan shoes. No black or grey veins crossed his face. Just the signature frown. He continued to stare as if doubting the reflection-he had reason to.

Godric had said we are, in response to the question about the Black God. That made less sense than most things.

He could hear Evie talking animatedly from the kitchen. Ethan’s thoughts turned to Dulvey at her voice. Jack and Marguerite were at peace, Zoe was enjoying her life, Mia at the very least wasn’t trapped, reliving her three years of terror over and over again. The last victim had been Evie, and she was here now-she had a second chance, a chance to be a child. The uneasiness of Louisiana in his mind should have faded, a bad memory overshadowed by how comparatively great Ethan’s life had become. He hoped it would only improve in the future.

But he looked haunted, felt even more haunted, like a house full of spirits. Like the Baker house, he supposed.

His gaze left the mirror and drifted to the old-fashioned phone on one of the ornate desks. He would have to call Zoe and tell her what he’d done with Eveline. She’d kill him. Zoe only knew the child as her tormentor. Ethan wouldn’t blame Zoe for being mad, but as she’d planned to visit over the holidays, he would need to call her soon. In case she decided to curse him out for an hour and mail him an alligator head, instead of visiting.

With one more, hopefully resolute, stare in the mirror, Ethan left the room. Talking to his faraway, ancient friend had at least cheered him up enough to socialize. He doubled back to check Karl’s room, remembering Godric’s warning about the crystal.

He fully anticipated Karl to be peering into it deeply when he turned into the large mostly-workroom, but the engineer was at his bench with the same item in front of him. He was stooped forward, hair wild as he worked. Ethan didn’t even have to ask what he was doing, but the blond frowned. “Really?”

“Don’t start,” Karl said simply, his lips gripping a cigar. He was squinting past the smoke, his eyes glowing faintly as he held the delicate tools. A recent purchase, a very expensive watch repair kit, which Ethan had bitten his tongue over. Why the hell was Heisenberg so obsessed with a key that went to a factory that no longer existed? It had been months. He’d restored multiple vehicles, even salvaged a goddamn tank. He’d built up the sheds, stables, the garage. He was now working on erecting a whole little fishing village complete with windmill. The key seemed to be the thing he couldn’t figure out. And it led nowhere.

Ethan had hoped Heisenberg would invite himself to the table, make nice for Ethan’s sake, but it became clear that the brunette hadn’t even considered it.

“Godric says to protect the crystal.” At this, Heisenberg’s head shot up. “He said Miranda might be able to corrupt it. I don’t know how, I’m just letting you know.”

Heisenberg moved to stand, and began knocking things around the desk. Ethan presumed his help wasn’t needed, and headed back toward the others, feeling slightly shunned for the second time that day.

—--------

Some of Eva’s flowers had made their way onto the table. The nice china was out; the tablecloth had even been changed. Ethan marveled at how beautiful the dining room looked, and then put a hand on Eva’s shoulder. “This looks fantastic.”

“You seem to be a bit cheerier. At least more than the weather.”

“Rolling around in the mud helped.”

She giggled. “Godric?”

“Yeah. How was your day?”

Eva’s nearly translucent eyebrows raised and she glanced at Alcina, who was sitting at the table with a pensive expression. “It went well, I think.”

“Is the castle rubble? That why she came back?”

They both snorted at this. “No, the castle will be fine, I believe. We did learn things, but we can discuss those later.”

—---------------

Dinner was actually far less dreadful than Ethan anticipated. The first topic that came up was, surprisingly, going to the city. Moreau and Karl already made a list of medical supplies they needed, and Donna was beaming at the idea of getting new crafting material. Ethan had been promised a computer, still needed to buy a winter wardrobe for Rose, who was growing out of everything, and now he needed a winter wardrobe for Evie as well. When he voiced this, Evie abruptly interrupted, “Wait…we’re going out in public, to get me clothes?”

Ethan was chewing. He swallowed. “Is there something wrong with that?”

“You mean, you trust me? To be around….other people?”

The table’s other occupants looked uneasily at the girl, and Ethan raised his eyebrow, dipping another roll into the stew. “Well….yeah, I guess I do.” He gave her the most skeptical, dad-like stare ever. “Should I not?”

Her face softened. “I’ll be good. I promise. I can be good. I just…” now she turned back to her plate, stirring her soup uncertainly. Ethan realized as he studied the girl’s face that she had Mia’s almost button-like nose. Her voice was low. “I just hated how everybody thought I was too much of a freak to be in public. Worried I would do the wrong thing, say the wrong thing. The lab made me age up fast, but I didn’t know how to act like a kid, I never saw another kid. Even though the lab had them.”

What a creepy thought. Ethan frowned.

Donna, who sat beside the older child, rubbed a pale hand across her shoulder and back. “You will do just fine.” Her voice was so soft and soothing, Ethan wondered how she was ever capable of creating the horrors she lived with. “You will be in good company…we were not allowed out of the village for many years, so it will be new for us as well.”

“Speak for yourself,” Alcina said smugly, her red lips curling into a smile. “I loved the city.” She paused and looked at the window, where rain still poured against the glass. “Though…it will be new to go in daylight. With a body that…”

“Oh yes,” Moreau said with a loud, almost gleeful exhale. “A body that is normal!! Yes, it will be AMAZING!”

Ethan had to smile. They would look like a bunch of goofy tourists, in their out of date clothing and with all their excited questions. As he turned to feed Rosemary, who had no interest in the art of the spoon, Evie asked, “Will we get ice cream?”

“Oh yeah,” he said with another smile. Donna and Eva smiled at this question as well. After Rose began gnawing on a carrot, Ethan returned to his own bowl. “Although, we’ll probably be the only ones lining up at the shop if it’s raining like this out there. They’ll think we’re crazy, eating summer food when it’s cold.”

“I don’t mind that!” Evie was so excited she was nearly buzzing. Her smile was full, and without any sinister undertone. Ethan smirked back.

“Wait, if you are taking me to the shops, and buying me clothes…does that mean you’re my Dad?”

He nearly choked on the soup that was already halfway down his windpipe; Ethan chortled and sputtered, causing Eva to slap him on the back, as Alcina watched with a raised eyebrow. “Uhhh, I?”

The table waited expectantly.

“You’d pick him? Look at ‘im, he’s scrawny, he’s a dope. You sure you want him as a Papa?” Karl sauntered into the room and plopped down on the other side of Moreau, grabbing a plate and ignoring Alcina’s glare as he scooped food onto it without even checking to see what it was. “Although he does have a real mean streak, and a temper, so maybe you two are alike.” His flash of a white smile and wink at Evie betrayed his nature, and she giggled shyly.

Alcina surprised everyone by adding to the joke. “He’s also quite terrible as a houseguest…breaking things, bumbling around, disturbing the visiting merchant.”

“Hey!”

“I agree,” Donna said in her quiet, contemplative tone. She barely carried the hint of a smile. “You should also know….he is also afraid of the dark.”

“And he’ll just barge in anytime, no matter what’s on tv!” Sal moaned extravagantly. Ethan tried to form words as the others chuckled, until he realized that-holy shit, they were all laughing together. Even Alcina’s lips were upturned behind her wine glass, her cheeks rosier than he’d ever thought they could get.

Ethan settled for cutting into the meat forcefully and mock-scowling. He winked at Evie too. She smirked back, but then her eyes widened as she second-thoughted Moreau’s comment. “Wait–we have…TV??”

—-------

After the morning plans were made and dessert was eaten, Ethan held Rosemary in his lap. He mopped what food he could from her face, but she had always hated being cleaned. After thrashing about, ducking from the bib, she disappeared from his arms, only to appear in Karl’s lap, laughing gleefully.

Ethan threw his hands up, and then his eyes widened. “Boy, I hope you don’t pull that while we’re traveling tomorrow!”

“She won’t,” Evie said with another laugh, “She has to be at least next to where the mold is to do it.”

Karl simply ate around Rose as if he dealt with this often. Alcina was studying the toddler with interest, and she finally, hesitantly said to Ethan, “...May I?”

“Of course,” he answered, perhaps too quickly.

Karl picked up the toddler. “You wanna go see your aunt? Ask her how the weather’s doin’ up there?”

Ethan thought his heart would surely melt, and even Dimitrescu’s expression was warm at his gentleness. Heisenberg handed the child over, and the castellan’s facade of sternness melted even further. She began speaking gently, cooing, as Rose very interestedly talked about something. Rose’s father, true to form, was about to ruin the perfect moment.

He stared at his hands. “So…early this morning I…something happened, I. I got really forceful with Heisenberg, asking him questions, but the thing is, I don’t remember anything.”

Eva in particular looked troubled. He saw the glances between the others. But she spoke first. “What were you asking about?”

“Asking him to tell me where his crystal was,” Ethan said flatly. He felt stupid. What a dumb thing to lose consciousness over, wasn’t it? It sounded lame, not scary at all like it actually was. They were going to think he was a moron.

“I changed. I…”

“He calcified,” Heisenberg supplied from his seat. “Not a full transformation, but…”

The Lords now stared with trepidation and fear. Heisenberg threaded his dark hands together. “He was strong too. Had claws. The works.”

Moreau’s glassy pale eyes were full of worry. “That’s not good!”

“Yeah, thanks,” Ethan responded, and the other ducked his head as if to apologize.

“Blacking out means you’re scared,” Evie said simply. Her voice held none of the malice it had before, but she still spoke so matter of factly that Ethan had to remind himself she was only a child and not his elder. Why was she the one supplying so many answers to him about his own existence?

“Godric said that too,” Ethan said. “I don’t know how to fix it.”

“You have to stop being scared, silly,” Evie answered with a sly smile. “If it happens more, it can give you more power, but maybe that’s a bad thing.”

“It is,” Karl interjected, as Ethan contemplated.

“How can we help, Ethan?” Eva’s stare was the one that Ethan couldn’t meet; Eva had done nothing but help them and take care of all of them. Eva was also the one person who knew the Mold. If she had no answers, and Godric’s best answer was ‘don’t be scared’ …Ethan was screwed. He hated this situation, hated the stares he was currently getting, hated that he had no answers, and worst-hated that he felt it would happen again.

When he shrugged helplessly, she put a hand over his. “We’ll figure it out.”

“On the other hand,” Alcina shrugged, “If you were able to control this transformation, this might help you defeat Miranda, might it not?”

The table was quiet.

—-----------------

Ethan brought her another bottle of wine. This time, he knocked on the door and waited where he stood. She came to the door already bathed and in pajamas–a beautiful silken robe–her face beautifully bare of makeup. He held out the bottle and then lifted a second glass. “Care to…share a glass?”

Her scowl was palpable, but she stepped aside and waved him in. “I have never in all my life invited a man into my sleeping quarters,” she admonished, and he smiled as he passed through the doorway.

“Guess I’m special then, huh?”

“Don’t flatter yourself.” She took the wine, and closed the door. They sat on two plush chairs in the suite, facing each other. Ethan began to pour the wine; she held her glass out. “Is this about our conversation earlier?”

“Not necessarily,” Ethan said honestly, pouring his own glass. “I just wondered how you were doing.”

“I am….something,” she admitted, and rolled her eyes as she drank. “I am…old, tired, sad. Bitter. Angry. I am alone. I am lonely.”

“I’m sorry.” He was stunned to hear her speak this way, but he appreciated the honesty. Still, he didn’t dare reach forward to comfort her; he simply looked at the floor.

“I will say, Ethan, I appreciate your hospitality. And your daughter is beautiful. Daughters?”

“It’s Heisenberg’s hospitality really,” he said quietly, and then drank to cut himself off. The last thing he wanted to do was lecture Lady D on her interactions with Karl. He hadn’t had the best track record of interacting with Karl, after all.

“I do not fit in here,” she said rather bluntly, fidgeting with her deep red nails. “I may not fit in anywhere.”

“I feel like….maybe that’s something you’ve always dealt with?”

Her wry smile was oddly terrifying. “Not for the reasons you might think.”

He sat back in the chair, and drank more wine. “Try me.”

Alcina considered this. She at first looked skeptical, but her eyes lighted on the compass necklace that Ethan always wore. Clearly she recognized it, and contemplated some more. “I think, perhaps, you might understand, at least a bit.”

After his gesture, she began. “You saw what the stored consciousness showed you…pieces of my life. But that was what I consider the end of my life. I was forty-four when I showed up on Miranda’s doorstep,” she chuffed, clearly sore about it. “I had a whole life before this. It was…difficult. As a young girl, I was the epitome of feminine beauty. I went to finishing school, even though my mother could not afford to feed my siblings. I was the eldest, you know, and they were very poor. Our noble line ended when they moved to America and someone gambled away the family fortune. Had I been a boy, I suppose I would have died in the war, or else become a rich businessman and saved the family. As it was, my duty was to grow up beautiful and marry a rich businessman, to save the family.”

All of this required more wine; he filled her glass as she continued. “The dresses, the poetry, the instruments, the training were…” Alcina’s lower lip was trembling as she tried to smile through the sentence. “Perfectly suited to me. I was such a young lady . So they all said! It came so naturally. But then…when I became a woman, when things began to grow, one could say,” she chuckled, but Ethan’s stare didn’t waver.

“...I became suddenly too tall to be pretty. That wasn’t the worst of it, I could still have survived, but I got all of the hormonal urges and ideas of puberty and…well.”

His face was still stoic. She shrugged at him, as if to spur him toward a conclusion, but Ethan shook his head, signaling that he didn’t understand. When Alcina spoke, her voice was oddly full of fright, almost fragile. “Those thoughts were all for the wrong gender. I found femininity personally appealing, but I also found it…tempting. Alluring. It was all I wanted to seek out. I was ravenous.”

Now Ethan nodded, finally understanding, his eyebrows raised. When she saw this, she hurriedly drank from her glass, and then asked in a rush, “Was it…difficult for you?”

“To come to terms with my sexuality?”

“I suppose that is my question.”

He considered. “At times, yeah. I was confused for years, made sure I had relationships that were either low maintenance-” cue Mia, who was always studying abroad or going on work-study programs and wasn’t necessarily there, to be vulnerable with, in the early years, “or people who I knew there wasn’t a future with. It took a long while to be comfortable, and it only happened after years of talking about it.” He said the last part pointedly; it didn’t seem she was too experienced with talking about it.

Alcina gave him a hesitant smile. Then her eyes cast downward at the ornate rug under their feet. “I did want to save my family. I did want to start my own family even, become a mother, be the good eldest child. But…I wanted all of that with another woman. You can imagine that it did not go well.”

“I can imagine,” Ethan said sardonically. She frowned.

“They forced me into an engagement in the end. And he, the man….he…” Ethan remembered the intrusive memory, the assault. Her eyes met his again and he said nothing; she could sense already, that he knew. She exhaled as if in relief.

“Would you believe me, if I told you that even in my castle, even as I grew and changed, even as I murdered every man who set foot on my property, would you believe me if I said….I never felt safe, ever again?”

“Well, if I look back at how I acted. Last night. If that was a fear response, I guess I can believe it, yeah.” His lopsided smile was meant to be reassuring, but she narrowed her eyes as she smiled back.

“What does that say about me, Ethan Winters?”

“Says even the scariest monsters I know are operating on fear,” he answered swiftly, and she laughed heartily.

“Might I ask a favor of you?”

“Sure.”

“Eva spoke to me of this…Godric. We talked about a great many things. But he intrigues me. I would like to meet him. I am finding the amount of men I want to interact with still firmly at zero-no offense, but I…have some questions for him.”

“He’d love to meet you, I’m sure.”

“Splendid.”

The father stood, a flush across his cheeks from the wine. He turned toward the door. “Guess I better go try not to…black out and turn into a villain,” he muttered, and she stood with a sweeping gesture, moving toward the door.

“I may be able to provide assistance with that, but let us wait until after sleep.”

“Sure, Karl got out the tire iron and the cattle prod in case I act up again,” he joked, and shuffled toward the doorway.

He was out of the door, and leaving, when she said hesitantly, “Ethan.”

He paused and turned back, his eyes bleary from the difficult day.

“You have been…….surprising.”

“You too.” He smiled fully. “G’nite, Lady D.”

“Good night.”

#alcina dimitrescu #ethan winters

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epinebleue · 6 months ago

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i can fix him (no really i can) (m) (chibs telford) | 03

It was as if the pieces began to slide into place. He had pulled away from her the moment she had stepped back into Charming. Not in an obvious, cruel way, but in that subtle, almost imperceptible retreat of someone who had already decided he wasn’t allowed to want something.

pairing: filip “chibs” telford x eloise “ellie” teller (original female character)

genre: angst, fluff, mature.

content warnings: cursing, gemma being a bitch (what’s new), chibs (43) and ellie (24) having a moment...

author’s note: are we ready for the spice in the next chapter or what?

tag list: @daphnen21

chapter index | previous chapter | next chapter

Charming, 2008

Looking back, perhaps Eloise had been naïve to think she would never set foot in Charming again.

That vow had been made by a stubborn teenager, adamant to forget her last name and what it meant to carry it. For a while, she had kept the promise, and with the passing of years Charming became a fading memory of a time marked by heartbreak and sorrow.

But the phone had rung in the middle of the night, and a voice Ellie knew all too well traveled through the speaker. She could barely understand a word, the person on the line weeping and drunk. He was slurring his words, but she understood him nevertheless.

Wendy, overdosed, baby, prematurely.

Jax had asked to go back, and as much as she hated the world she had been born into, she would never abandon her big brother in times like that.

She couldn’t travel on the very same day, Ellie explained, as she had a life she would’ve to put on hold. She promised, and Jax believed her, that she would catch a flight as soon as she had everything figured out.

And just like that, Ellie found herself once again in the familiar streets of the town that had watched her grow up.

Charming had barely changed: the small shops her family frequented were still there, even the little barber shop her father was a loyal customer of. Ellie could still remember the smell of shaving cream and tobacco…

The knot in her throat tightened as the cab passed the repair shop with the sign “Teller-Morrow”. It was crazy to think she had given it the middle finger from the bus that would drive her off to a new life almost six years ago.

It wasn’t until Ellie saw the entrance of her childhood home that she struggled to breathe.

The exterior had been painted green and the steps had been fixed. Other than that, everything looked the same.

A boy with bright, blonde hair stepped out of the house and ran in her direction as she stepped out of the cab. The next thing she knew, Ellie was being crushed in her brother’s arms. She giggled, patting Jax’s patched back, the leather hot against her palm.

“You’re choking me, idiot.”

Jax didn’t let go. Neither did she. Maybe they hadn’t known how much they needed that hug right until then.

“Thank you.”

Ellie smiled fondly at her brother’s muttered words, which brought tears to her eyes.

Everyone thought her problems had been solved the moment she abandoned Charming, but she was still a young girl away from home, afraid of having taken the worst decision of her life as she tried to fall asleep in the most sketchy motel room she had ever seen.

She still needed her older brother and her mother. She even missed Clay, his frown, and even his authoritative tone.

She used to get in booths, hesitant. If she rang home, would they answer? If she asked for help, would they show up? She ended up hanging up the phone every time. The moment she heard Jax’s voice, she would beg him to pick her up.

Remember why you’ve done this in the first place, Ellie would tell herself, you’re better on your own, you’ve always been.

“Always.”

Jax helped Ellie unload her luggage from the taxi and, side by side, they carried the suitcases to the house.

“There she is.” The sole sound of his voice brought tears to Ellie’s eyes. There was Piney, sitting in a chair, his oxygen bottle right beside him. “My little princess Charming.”

The old man got up with a grunt, opening his arms big, and Ellie allowed herself to be engulfed by them. All of a sudden, she was twelve again and spitting venom against her mother and Clay, crying on the shoulder of the man she truly thought of as a father figure after the loss of her own.

“I’ve missed you.” Ellie said, her voice cracking. “So much…”

So many emotions in such a short period and jet lag wasn’t a good combination.

Clay got up from the armchair at the back of the room and locked eyes with her. Ellie wouldn’t be honest if she said she hadn’t dreamt of that moment a million times.

“You’re big.” He said, a strange spark in his eyes. Ellie swore she could see pride behind them. “And beautiful.”

“Thank you, Clay.”

For the first time in years, she stood in front of him as an equal. She wasn’t a rebellious teenager and he wasn’t an iron-fist stepfather anymore, just two adults with a history.

Ellie was an independent, grown woman who had made it.

And so, when Clay smiled at her, Ellie took it like a white flag waving in the air.

Gemma hadn’t changed a lot in six years.

Her mother’s hair was pitch black and long when she left. It was shorter now, with yellowish-blonde stripes from the middle to the tips.

She observed Gemma from the door frame. It hurt that, after all those years, she had to be the one to come to her mother and not the other way around, like it should be.

But that was Gemma, after all.

“I arrived, mom.”

The woman finished stirring whatever was in the pot and covered it with a lid. Then, she turned around.

The last time Ellie had stared at those eyes, she was screaming she would leave town and never come back. Jax had told her to not be stupid, because where would she go at seventeen with no money? Gemma, on the other side, hadn’t said a word. She just stared at Eloise, her only daughter, as if she were just an annoying little girl throwing yet another tantrum.

“I heard you in the living room.” Gemma smirked and put one of her hands on her hip. “I thought I’d never see you again. What happened?”

Ellie frowned at her question, unable to process how soon her mother had launched an attack.

“Jax told me he needed me.” Only when her nails dug into the palms of her hands did she realize that they were clenched in a fist. Ellie quickly tried to calm herself down, inhaling and exhaling. “That’s what happened.”

“I guess you finally understand what it means to be loyal to your family.”

Ellie scoffed, narrowing her eyes.

“I find it hard to believe that you, out of all people, know what the word loyal means, mom.”

For a second, Ellie could see the shock in Gemma’s face. The woman nodded slowly, taking in her daughter’s words.

“You haven’t changed at all, have you?”

“I have.” Ellie straightened her back like she used to do when younger, ready to turn around and leave. “Your head is just too far up your ass for you to notice.”

Gemma was a terrible mom but an excellent cook.

Ellie sat beside Jax with a full stomach and a full heart. It was weird, being surrounded by her family again, especially when she thought that the friends she had made along the way would be the only family she knew from then on.

The rest of the club had appeared soon after she had arrived, carrying colorful balloons and “welcome home” signs.

And amid all the familiar faces, Chibs stood out.

He had hugged her, like everybody else. He had told her he was happy to see her, like everybody else.

Yet another proof that everything Ellie thought he felt for her years ago was a mere delusion fed by her teenage mind.

“Are you tired?” Jax leaned in to whisper when he saw her yawn.

“A bit.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll take you to my place early.”

“Uhm, actually… I’m staying in a hotel.” Ellie hugged herself, feeling uncomfortable all of a sudden. “I’ve rented a room.”

Jax frowned at her. Ellie wondered if he was surprised or hurt.

“I thought the plan was to stay with me, at my house.”

“I’m just here to visit, Jax. I don’t want to interfere with your daily life.”

“Don’t worry, Jax.” Gemma said from across the table, holding her glass of wine close to her lips. She let out an obnoxious laugh. “We’re used to being frozen out.”

Ellie burst before she could even register what she was saying.

“Wow, you can’t keep anything to yourself, can you?”

“Drop it, you two.” Clay intervened, knowing exactly where the situation would go if he let it be dragged further. “It’s okay, Ellie. I can drive you later.”

The table fell silent. Ellie couldn’t believe she had just snapped like that again when she had been less than twenty-four hours around her mother. She thought she would be able to control her temper better than that. Had those expensive therapy sessions been completely useless?

“Dessert, anybody?”

Of course she would sweep anything under the rug like nothing happened, Ellie thought. The guests roared, accepting the treat, and a new conversation sparked among the club members.

Ellie took advantage of it to grab the pack of cigarettes and lighter from her purse, slipping away to the front garden.

The sun was setting, turning the world orange, and a gentle breeze was starting to spring up when Ellie lit up a cigarette. The door behind her opened and she turned around, startled by the noise, only to see Chibs walking down the steps and towards her.

In silence, he stood by her side and lit up his cigarette. Ellie let out a soft laugh.

“What’s so funny?”

“How come every time I’m upset you’re the first one to come to me?”

Ellie observed Chibs from the corner of her eye. Chibs took a drag of his cigarette, a smoke cloud billowing out his mouth like a freight train through a small town.

“Guess some things never change, right, lass?” Chibs muttered, his thick accent coming through, as always.

“No, they don’t.” Ellie sighed, her eyes lost on the horizon, where the sun was beginning to give way to darkness. “Especially not in Charming.”

The shorter hair, the gray hairs beginning to show, and the beard seemed to add weight to his face. However, he looked as good as she remembered, as if time had turned him into a more attractive version just to torture her.

“We have a conversation pending.” Chibs suddenly said, his deep voice cutting through the air.

Ellie froze in place, horrified. If there was something she wanted to forget, it was that moment. The shame of that day had been too big to face it again.

“Oh…” She said, letting out the smoke slowly, trying to control her breathing. “I thought you wouldn’t remember.”

“When a young girl kisses you, runs away and disappears for six years… you don’t forget it, believe me.”

Chibs’ eyes were fixed on Ellie, a mix of nostalgia and something else she couldn’t quite decipher behind them.

Ellie looked down, playing with the cig between her fingers. Her stomach hurt and she had the urge to throw up.

“It was stupid of me to do what I did.” She muttered, unable to utter the word kiss. “I was upset.”

Chibs observed her for a while in silence, as if measuring his words. “Was that all?”

Ellie felt the air tighten in her chest. She thought she had finally learned not to wish for the impossible. But she couldn't shake the feeling that there was something more behind his question.

“Should there be more?”

No reposting or translations allowed.

#chibs soa #chibs smut #chibs telford #soa smut #soa chibs #sons of anarchy x oc #chibs telford smut #chibs telford x oc #chibs telford imagine #sons of anarchy #chibs x oc #chibs imagine #soa imagine #chibs sons of anarchy

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afr0-thunder · 1 year ago

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[Poor Chronicles Pt. 39]

Topics: Weed/HORNDAWG/[Bad Questions]/Dietary Habits/Photography/2nd Phone/Budgeting/Rational Questions/Happy (fuck you!) Holidays!

*$250. Done with weed purchases. Not only for the year, but for the foreseeable future. I can’t keep wasting my money on this. Last few servings have been horrible. I ran into my dealer again. It’s better, but here he goes again with some of this rashy throat. I believed the guy before this was going to be better, but he was not very good either. I’ve had “worse”. It’s all good, but then I met Betty. What does that mean? I. Don’t. Know. Yes I do. It means it’s all good until you want to see another planet or another world or another idea you’ve been looking for. It’s all good until you’re walking around town looking for who has(who’s) got the best stuff. (It’s you!). Now you want a higher “FIX”, but you can’t try crack (rock) or meth, so what do you do?

[May revisit. “Prophecy”, not personally though. Quest. “Where is the gas?”]

I don’t want to “make love” or “have sex”. I obviously want to FUCK. With Horndawg, I want to have somewhere between fucking and having sex, almost as if we were making love (…although it’s just fucking). I want to make it seem like what we have is better than those losers who want the fame and fortune and don’t want to work for it. Also, those who are just together for the sake of a name and a chance at losing the feeling of emptiness.

[Do people actually want to spend eternity together (marriage) or do they just not know how to break the ice for separation?

If being alone didn’t exist, would you still stay?]

I may be done with food (snacks) for the time being. Although, if not, I will be adjusting my potato chip diet to mostly just (or all) flamin’ hot fries. I didn’t know how I would afford this new lifestyle, but it seems a way has been made.

I got around to those pictures. My photography skills are improving. I cracked my phone without service’s screen. I was thinking of replacing it (AGAIN), although it is only a small portion of the screen cracked, but I had just replaced the entire thing (from a worse crack) almost a year ago, today. Could my photography, the phone or location be cursed? I presume the phone. Nonetheless, I do not deem this occasion as necessary for a screen repair.

I keep sensing there is something I could spend my money on, but I’m running out of ideas. I assume it will just never come to me.

I’m getting, “What if the person you want to be with is 5 or more years younger than you?”. I would have to say not everything is meant to align with what you view as “normal”, but it also doesn’t have to be too far off from what you perceive to make sense.

Another Christmas with no gifts (not that I care) and no daughter’s titties in my face. So if you didn’t have either for me this year. Fuck you! (kidding)

Some things might be spilling my mind, but that’s okay.

- MH (2023)

[12/25/2023 - 2:18PM] - Christmas Day 2023

#personal #poor chronicles #poor #poverty #life #lesson #life lesson #life lessons #questions #guidance #struggle #chicago #2023 #LilMark #PUNKAssMark #afr0-thunder

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stillalittlelostngl · 3 years ago

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No Good Deed Goes Unpunished Pt 2 Dabi/Reader

Reposting an old work from my old account. Will go back and edit this soon hopefully so please be kind in the meantime lol it's been 3 years since i looked at this.

You woke to a bump in the night.

Because, of course your little houseguest didn’t have the courtesy to just stay asleep, you thought as your hand dragged across your sheets in a half conscious search for your phone. Waking up had always been difficult for you, swimming through the murky waters sleep provided to drag your consciousness back into the present had never been an easy feat and this was no different. The light from the phone screen blinded you and you needed to take a moment to adjust. When you saw the time on the display, you could barely hold back the groan of annoyance.

“3:30...really?” you questioned under your breath as you tossed the phone aside. You and the stray you had managed to pick up couldn’t have gotten more than a few hours of sleep. How the stranger on your couch managed to feel rested enough to be moving around and making so much noise was a mystery to you. Closing your eyes, just for a moment you had told yourself, you began to drift back off the the sleep your body desperately needed. Your body practically melted into the warm cocoon of blankets surrounding you and you were on the very edge of consciousness when another loud thump from the person in your living room had you startling awake. It seemed your guest had no intention of letting you sleep.

Staring at the ceiling, you began to tap one of your fingers against the back of your other hand as you thought about just what to do now. Should you go out there and see if the guy needed help? It wasn’t as if you were their parent or anything and if he was up and moving then he probably intended to leave. While you wouldn’t have advised him to be up and moving for at least an hour or two longer, who were you to stop him? He was grown and had spent far more time in his body than you had when you were repairing the damage, surely he would know what’s best for himself.

But then again the thought of letting a stranger roam your home unsupervised didn’t sit too well with you. While you tried to avoid assuming the worst of people, you didn’t know this man. You hadn’t even had what could remotely be considered a single conversation with him. All you knew was that someone saw it fit to leave him half dead in an alley and as much as you hated to think it that wasn’t much of a ringing endorsement. He could very much be the type to just end up robbing you. It certainly wouldn’t have been the first time a patient of yours thought to do so.

Even with these thoughts swimming in your head you had still been tempted to just call it a night. Let him take whatever he deemed valuable enough to be bothered with as long as you got an extra hour of sleep and he closed the door on the way out who cared? The most expensive thing in your possession was probably your phone, everything else in your apartment was second hand or as cheap as you could get it, so it wouldn’t be too big of a loss if he took anything.

But it would be a pain in the ass to replace.

And that’s the thought that got you up and out of bed at such an ungodly hour. You tried to be as quiet as possible as you shifted off of your bed and made your way to the door, soft curses leaving your mouth when your feet touched the cold floor.

Funny, it was only really now that you began to wonder just who it was you had let into your home. You had been too focused on getting him in the apartment and fixed up, and after that was done all you had been worried about was finally getting some rest. You hadn’t put any thought into who he was or just what he was capable of.

Your mother had always complained about your one track mind. She’d even lectured you a time or two about your bleeding heart as well, going on about how you couldn’t very much right the wrongs of the world or help people who weren’t looking for assistance. In your still sleep deprived state you couldn’t help but think she might’ve just had a point as you opened the door.

You padded down the hall, noting that you hadn’t heard much of anything from the man since getting out of the warmth of your bed. You were equal parts annoyed and hopeful that there was a possibility you had gotten out of bed for nothing.

He froze when you had entered the room, the creak of the floorboards altering him of your presence. Shadows gathered in the far corners of the space and if it wasn’t for the dim glow of the street lamp outside the window you would hardly be able to tell where the shadows ended and he began. Washed in the gold light you could make out faint details of him, the tension in his shoulders and the narrowed eyes reminding you all too much of a cornered animal.

The teal of his eyes showed an emotion but it was difficult for you to place. You could practically see the gears turning, the emotion behind his eyes seemed crude, raw, as if he was the coyote stuck in the gleaming steel jaws of the trap, biting off his leg in a last ditch effort to survive. He was all sharp teeth and rough edges and you made a mental note to keep your guard up around him. You brought a stray home afterall, you shouldn’t be surprised if it decided to bite.

It wasn’t until he began to pull himself up from the floor that you realized he must’ve fallen off the couch. If it was in his sleep or when you assumed he had made to get up to leave you couldn’t tell for sure. With how cagey he seemed to be it was probably the latter, your quirk tended to leave people light headed and fatigued and on an occasion or two had left people with neurally mediated syncope for a week given that their injuries were serious enough to require manipulation of their nervous system. You had been getting better at lessening the severity of it but if he was anything to go by you still had a long way to go.

His movements had been stiff and jerky as well, as if he was still sore from the damage from before. It wouldn’t be too surprising if he was still feeling some aches and pains, you had just fixed and replaced numerous cells after all. It was a process that would’ve taken weeks, maybe even longer given the punctured lung and all, had his body have to do the work on its own. With your quirk the time span had been cut down to an hour at the very most. There was bound to be some drawback from speeding up a natural process like that. How grimey he was after his roll in the trash probably wasn’t helping things much either.

You had been so lost in your own head checking over the stranger to see how well you work had held up you hadn’t noticed he had situated himself on the couch until he began to speak.

“So, you make a hobby out of dragging people outta dumpsters or something?” he asked, a grin spreading across his face and pulling at the surgical staples. Leaning forward with his head cocked and eyeing you in amusement he certainly made for a different picture than the man you found on the ground mere moments ago. His body language was lethargic and the drawl in his voice suggested that he was as relaxed as he could be for waking up in someone else’s home. It was a stark contrast from the man you saw earlier who seemed as if he couldn’t decide between making a run for it or snapping at you.

His eyes still held that same raw and unnerving intensity, though. You could hardly hold back from squirming under his gaze. The only thing preventing you from doing so was your stubborn pride that prevented you from being intimidated by someone in your own home.

“Or somethin’...,” you all but mumbled as you shifted your weight from one foot to the next. If anything it was more of a side effect of you being a bleeding heart with more tenaciousness than common sense.

His eyes narrowed at your answer and you could practically hear the gears turning. Your answer had apparently been vague enough to leave him with more questions than you cared to answer at that moment. You hadn’t really been looking to play twenty questions this early in the morning.

He had opened his mouth to say something but you were quick to cut him off.

“Before you go I’d like to give you a quick once over. Just to make sure I didn’t miss anything or that the cells haven’t gone and done their own thing.” It really wouldn’t do if he got fixed up just to end up having his body react unexpectedly to the session. While no one had ever left your care worse off than when they came to you, there had been cases -especially when intensive cell and tissue damage had occurred- where your patient’s body wanted to either reject the new cells entirely or the rate of cell growth would become concerning.

Biology was such a fickle thing and with your quirk being highly methodological in how you had to go about repairing the damage without disturbing homeostasis, these cases were a source of endless frustration for you. It was always better to make sure the work was done and done right than to send someone off with a different complication.

“Ouch, already planning on throwing me out on the cold dark street?” he said rubbing at his chest as your words had physically hurt, “That’s a bit heartless, don’t you think?”

The grin that pulled at his cheeks had you slightly concerned the surgical staples that seemed to be holding him together like some overgrown rag doll would be pushed past their limit. You weren’t too keen on seeing whatever the result of that would be.

“Heartless would’ve been letting you bleed out in that alley,” you said with a scoff, much too tired to be in the mood for the stranger’s teasing. This was familiar territory though, talkative and thinking he was far funnier than he actually was, he fit the bill for the type of clients who you dealt with on the regular. You could practically feel the tension leaving your body from how routine the banter seemed to be. You’ve suspected that it was a way to save face. It wouldn’t really do for most of your clients to have it get out that they had been injured or just how serious their wounds were. “Besides, I figured the reason you ended up face down on my floor was that you were tryin to leave.”

The shit-eating smirk on his face dimmed at your words. If you didn’t know any better you’d say the man was damn near pouting. Irritation at being caught clear on his face and you had to fight off a grin of your own at the lack of any sly rebuttal.

Taking his silence for permission to get to work you made your way towards the couch and instructed him to sit back. You were mostly concerned about how well the punctured lung had healed as any complication there would be far more serious than any of his other injuries.

“You should probably sweep by the way,” the man said as he leaned back to give you better access to the area, “it was a little dusty down there.”

You couldn’t hold back the snort of amusement. Being someone who had been laid out in some grimy ass alleyway when you found him, dust bunnies should be the least of his concerns.

“Piss off.”

The activation of your quirk cast the dark room in a white light that chased away the remaining shadows and the familiar warmth that flooded your veins as you got to work was more than welcomed. When you were younger you had looked for any reason to activate your quirk if only to have the pretty light surround your hands and the cozy feeling it provided. As a result, you would spend so much time physically distorting flowers and trees and when that got too boring ,and your control was much better, you’d genetically alter any and everything. Your mother had nearly had a conniption when she came home to you changing nearly every strand of your siblings hair a different color.

Getting to work, you observed that the cells you had repaired weren’t being rejected or proliferating more than expected much to your relief. While it would be easy enough to fix who was to say his body wouldn’t have reacted poorly to that either? Activating your quirk and doing basic manipulations had come easily enough to you, you had been doing so since your quirk had appeared. However, there were still things you needed to learn about manipulating things on a much smaller cellular level. You regularly spent hours on end studying biology and anatomy books in hopes of bettering your manipulations. You were making progress, no doubt about that, but the progress was slow and you had a notoriously short patience.

You could feel his eyes on you as you worked. Understandable since you kinda did have to feel the guy up. You had thought yourself immune to the awkwardness that often came with this aspect of the healing process, you had certainly done it enough times to be used to it, but he just made your skin itch as if it was too tight to contain yourself. You weren’t sure if you were more unnerved by his staring or your reaction to it.

You were checking over any minor damage you had ignored during the last session, in favor of tackling the much more immediate concerns of a collapsed lung and broken bones, when he decided to speak again.

“So,” he sighed as he shifted under your hands, apparently a little antsy himself, “what’s the damage doc?”

Doing one final check to make sure nothing had changed in the few moments you had spent observing the recovery of the minor damage, you gave a soft hum in acknowledgment as you removed your hands and began to move away from him.

“Unfortunately, you’ll live,” you quiped from your newly designated side of the couch, watching as he examined where your hands had been as if he could see the work you did, “You’ll experience some mild irritation at most from some minor injuries your body is capable of healing on it’s own. You may experience a fainting spell which is a normal reaction to the healing. Just make sure to lay down if you begin to feel lightheaded. Don’t operate heavy machinery for at least a week, blasé blasé. You get the gist.”

“Why not just fix everything?”

“You’re really going to complain about a few bruises after I just stopped you from drowning in your own blood?” you questioned with a raised brow. In all honesty you hadn’t healed him fully because you didn’t want him to go out and try to get revenge on the person who had him in such a sorry state. If he still had a few aches or bruises he wouldn’t be too eager to go and get into another fight. Or at least you hoped as much.

Your remark got a huff of laughter out of him as he stood, ready to head out

“So, this the part where I say ‘thank you’?” he questioned sardonic amusement clear in his tone.

“Well that would be what common courtesy and basic manners call for in this type of situation,” you said as you rose from your perch to walk him out, “But do me one better and make sure I don’t see you again.” The best type of patient was the kind you didn’t see often, after all.

“You take me home and send me off sayin all of that?” he teased with a soft laugh, “Your really gunna hurt my feelings now.”

“I’m sure it isn’t the first some someone’s done so. Figured you’d be used to it by now,” you said dryly as a smile threatened to pull at the corners of your lips. That managed to get a full laugh out of him as the two of you neared the door.

Standing at the door, he looked torn between staying and going. You saw a range of emotions fly across his face far too quickly for you to even determine what the first was let alone any of the others.

“Unluckily for you,” he finally said, “my father skipped over the whole...teaching manners thing,” he explained with a wave of his hand. You rolled your eyes at the statement. You’d delt the with this type before. They had far too much pride and too fragile of an ego to properly thank you for helping them. You used to be disgruntled by it, your mother having drilled manners into you to the point where if you even thought of being rude or discourteous to someone who you felt didn’t deserve such behavior had your stomach twisting in knots. But over time you’ve grown used to it. Men feeling like they had too much to prove to be bothered with basic decency were unfortunately plentiful when dealing with drug lords and the likes.

“But my mother didn’t,” he continued, much to your surprise, “so...thanks, for...you know,” a gesture of his hands towards his body had you knowing full well what he was trying to convey. The sorry excuse of gratitude was almost laughable.

“Oh, by all means don’t strain yourself there,” you scoffed, “but yeah, I know. Just...stay outta trouble,” you felt as if you were becoming your mother at this point, lord knows she spoke those words to you enough times growing up, “I don’t wanna keep having to put you back together. You look like you’re damn near falling apart as is,” you said with a gesture to the many staples that covered his body.

He smirked at your response and give you a slight nod of acknowledgement at the command you knew in your bones he was going to ignore. “Yeah, yeah,” he all but mumbled with a wave of his hand as he opened the door, “could be giving you the same advice. Can’t be too safe pulling strangers outta alleyways, don’t know which one might just be a villain.” And with that cryptic warning the nameless stranger exited your apartment into the darkness of the city that nearly swallowed him whole as soon as he had stepped out.

You closed the door and leaned against it, suddenly feeling the exhaustion from such little sleep creeping back up after the activation of your quirk had sent it away. Looking at the clock, you noticed that what had felt like a lifetime had only passed in thirty minutes or so. There was still some time for a quick nap before you had to actually begin your day.

Dragging yourself back to your room and flopping onto the far too expensive mattress you couldn’t help but wonder about the stranger who had just left.

‘He was certainly a piece of work,’ you thought with a snort. With his smart ass mouth you were sure he had probably said something slick to the wrong person. You hoped he actually bothered to listen and didn’t go looking to start somethin after he left.

Even as you began to lose consciousness and drift off into sleep you had to fight off a chuckle at the thought. He didn’t come across as the type that would listen. Your last thought before sleep claimed you was how long it would take before he became a regular.

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winter-soldier-vibes · 4 years ago

Note

Hey darling ❤️ love your writing 3000 :) can u do one with Bucky x reader (they’re together) where he overhears the reader on the phone with her parents that are emotionally & verbally abusive towards her (they always have been) and the reader has to explain it all to him afterwards even tho she’s having a panic attack (bc she’s afraid bucky will leave her since she has no one else to go to ??) and bucky comforts her and reassures her that he’s gonna be there for her and like comfort fluff? I live in an emotionally abusive and manipulative household rn and I tell you your fics are like an escape for me. Even if u don’t do this thank you from the bottom of my heart :)

Hey there, I love you 3000 ❤ I am so so sorry to hear about your situation, and while I'm glad to hear that my writing is an escape for you, I want you to know that I'm here for you. No one should have to go through what you described. I hope that this can bring you some comfort but please, I encourage you to reach out to someone who can help you. My DM's are open as well, you shouldn't face this alone. I'm here for you!!!

You owe them nothing

Bucky Barnes x reader

Word Count: 3200 (ish)

Warnings: emotional abuse/gaslighting, manipulation, parent issues, tears, angst, breakdown, fluff.

---------

You really tried to keep it hidden. It wasn’t something that everyone needed to know about.

Your parents loved you, at least that’s what they had said. But it was one of those things where you felt like it was for show - the kindness that they showed when you were around others faded away once you were alone with them.

You remember once they had said “of course I love you, I’m your parent!”

But that made you wonder how they would treat you if you weren’t theirs.

They were horrible to you for as long as you could remember. Gaslighting you and making you feel like you owed them something even though they were the ones who should have taken care of you.

They were around but never…there. They would be there for family dinners but they were always riddled with criticisms of grades and who you were talking to and how you dressed. All of your hobbies were seen as a waste of time, something you should only do when you had nothing else to do. School came first, naturally, but there was always something they told you you had to do before you could do anything for yourself.

Yet when you would complain about being depressed, they told you to get a hobby because you never do anything.

Tired meant lazy, energetic and passionate meant loud and annoying. When you were quiet they thought you had nothing to say, yet when you expressed your opinions you were told to shut up.

You couldn’t win.

You could never make them happy, there was always something you were doing wrong.

They thought it was their right to monitor who you talked to and saw, what you did outside of school, what sports you could join. When you would say no to the school dances or parties you would make up an excuse about not wanting to go or having work to do. Your friends would call you a buzz kill. Little did they know you would give anything to go.

Whenever you would do something wrong (or anything, period,), your parents would yell at you. They would curse you out, make you cry, only to yell at you for crying like a little bitch.

The older you got, the worse it was.

You thought when you moved out it would be better. But you had all these years of being told you were worthless and having them be your providers. When you got your own place you didn’t really have any friends, nor did you really know how to make friends. You had a job to help you get by, you could support yourself. That wasn’t the issue. You could support yourself, you always had to.

It was that you were so lonely.

You wanted friends but you were so afraid of the criticism you would get. You were afraid to make yourself known, because you were always taught that being told what to do and taught what to think was much more appealing than having your opinion.

But this was an opinionated world.

You were good at what you did, so good that you had gotten a job at S.H.I.E.L.D. You thought that would make you happy, more importantly that it would make your parents happy, but no such luck.

“I got a really great job, guys.”

“Fantastic. I guess you’re just doing so great without us,” they had snapped.

“What? I mean… this is what you wanted right? For me to get a good job?” you had said, confused.

You heard a loud sigh on the other end of the line. “Of course we do, what are you crazy about? Of course we wanted you to get a good job but you just deserted us like we were trash. Have we done nothing for you?”

You felt your heart sink in your stomach. ‘Of course you guys have, I love -”

“Don’t say what you don’t mean. If you really cared about us you’d be helping us out. You got a great job and probably have a huge paycheck that you hoard and you left us here to struggle to make ends meet.”

You took the phone away from your face temporarily to take a shaky breath. Of course they would go there with the salary, why wouldn’t they? All of your paychecks had gone to them, since it was their house and they were feeding you, leaving you with barely enough money for your car and gas and phone bills, only for them to suggest longer hours when you complained.

“I can help you guys out if you need,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady.

You heard an exasperated sigh on the other line again. “You really should be more grateful, you know? We raised you your entire life and then you leave us alone? You never even call us? You’re so fucking selfish.”

Then the line went dead.

You shook your head and felt tears in your eyes as you spoke to yourself. “Well maybe I would call you if it didn’t always yell at me.”

Of course, you would never say that.

See, it wasn’t so bad. You never said anything because they were only ever mean to you, which would make you uncomfortable. There were people out there that would get hit or who would have to raise themselves from a young age. Once you grew thick skin it wasn’t so bad, you were just being dramatic.

Right?

Your new job was fairly successful, you were fantastic at what you did. You did a lot of behind the scenes work, weapon repair and plans of action with missions. Not that they needed much help with that. Still, they took you in as their friends.

Well, as close as you would let them get to as friends.

It took a while before you warmed up to them. Everyone tended to keep to themselves, but not as much as you. You kept the parts of you hidden away - you were there for a job, you did it, and you did it well. You knew how to do your job but interacting with the team, making friends - you didn’t want to get emotionally attached.

Not like you knew how to make friends to begin with.

Naturally you were drawn to the quieter side of the team, once you were able to open up. They were all nice but sometimes the parties and the jokes were a bit much. You just didn’t want to say or do the wrong thing that would make you the punchline.

No one needed to know about you, or how you would spend your free time being yelled at through a phone with you trying to make it better. That wasn’t part of the job, so you shouldn’t bring it up.

It wasn’t like anyone would want to help. You were just a nuisance to everyone around you.

Right?

No one talked about their life before the team much. Not many people on the team had a great life before the Avengers first came together. Natasha or Wanda had once spoken about how this team was a family. And as much as you wanted to believe it, you helped the team. You weren’t a part of the team. So even if that were true, it didn’t include you.

At least, that was your point of view.

The team viewed you as a part of the team as much as any of them. You didn’t fight with them but you made sure everything would go as smoothly. You were kind and great at what you did, but they wished you would open up more. Of course, being a team of people who had trouble opening up, they understood.

Bucky was one of the ones who took a liking to you, mostly because he saw a lot of himself in you. He could tell there was something that you were trying to get past but weren’t quite able to yet. That there was something bothering but you wouldn’t dare say it for fear of bothering someone. You threw yourself into projects and distractions and from the way you carried yourself, he guessed you were avoiding something that you weren’t ready to work through. At least, not yet.

He knew that feeling too well.

The ex-assassin was one of the easiest for you to open up to because he didn’t expect much from interactions. Both of you were quiet and kept to yourselves that there wasn’t much pressure to share anything or say anything. You knew his past but would never bring it up unless he wanted to. Which eventually, he did. You could tell he felt pressure to be who he was before HYDRA took him, and while Steve was surprised he opened up to you first, you weren’t. Steve knew Bucky before everything, and you didn’t have that bias. He was whoever he was today regardless of who he was yesterday.

And Bucky found comfort in that.

You think you would’ve too, if you thought you deserved it enough to do the same.

See, you were worried that you were making everything worse than it really was. You worried that maybe you were being too sensitive or that what you had grown up with was normal. With everything that everyone on the team went through, a few insults from your parents was hardly anything. You were being dramatic.

There was nothing to be sad or angry about. You just had to get over yourself.

Right?

You were getting by until one night when your parents called, as they did on occasion. You were in the middle of working, so you ignored it. The phone went to voicemail before it started ringing again, and you ignored it, again. The third time you sighed and picked up your phone, turning away from your work.

You took a deep breath before you answered. “Hello?”

“What the hell is wrong with you?”

You closed your eyes and brought a hand to rub your head. “Well I’m doing fine, thank you, how are you?”

“Don’t give me that attitude. What the fuck are you doing? You’ve been ignoring our calls.”

You stood up to pace the floor slightly, dreading the conversation that was coming. Is it the ‘family is most important’ or the ‘where’s my money?’ speech today? “I’ve been working.”

“What, so work is more important than family now? Is that what this is? You don’t care about us?”

Family speech it is.

“Dad -”

“What if one of us was dying? Huh? Would that be important?”

“Stop it. No one is dying, and I was working. And I have more work to do, so I really have to go.”

“You don’t get to tell me what to do, I’m your father.”

Gaining confidence you gritted your teeth and snapped, “You know what? I’m an adult now so you can’t tell me what to do.”

There was silence on the other end of the line and you could practically hear the steam coming out of your father’s ears.

At some point Bucky had come down to your working space to check on you, seeing as it was nearly morning. He stopped in the doorway, and seeing you were busy on the phone he thought he would stop by later to give you some privacy. But he stopped when he heard you snap.

You never snap.

“Who do you think you’re talking to you ungrateful little bitch?”

“I’m talking to the people who treated me like shit my entire life and ask me for money when you wouldn’t give me the time of day for 18 fucking years.”

Even you couldn’t believe the words coming out of your mouth. But god did it feel good to say them.

“Are you fucking serious right now? We did nothing for you? What do you think we’ve been doing your whole life? We’ve done everything we did to help you be the best person you could be. You have that job now because of us and you have no right to speak to me that way.”

You chuckled darkly as you looked up at the ceiling, unaware of Bucky’s presence behind you. “My entire life all I’ve ever wanted to do was make you guys proud of me. But you know what? I’m fucking done. You hated me, gaslighted me, and made me hate myself almost as much if not more than you seemed to hate me.”

“I did no such thing you ungrateful -”

“You were supposed to love me and care for me, and all you did was take advantage of me. I’m not your child, I’m a paycheck. I don’t owe you anything because you gave me nothing. So you know what? FUCK. YOU.”

You hung up the phone and tossed it across the room, adrenaline taking over your body as you tried to stop shaking. Because a small part of you felt bad.

But fuck did that feel amazing.

You heard a throat clear behind you and you turned around to see Bucky, eyebrows furrowed in concern.

“You okay?”

You nodded nervously, rubbing the sides of your arms. “Yeah, I’m fine,” you said, unconvincingly. “How much, uh...how much did you -

“Enough,” he said, pushing himself off of the door frame as he crossed over to you. “Who was that?”

“Bucky, don’t, it’s really fine. I just got a little worked up.”

“Y/n,” he started, looking at you with concern. “Who were you talking to?”

“No one.”

“You don’t get upset like that at no one,” he took your hands in his. “Y/n, you're shaking.”

It was then that you realized your hands were still shaking, trying to keep the anxiety of what happened at bay.

It’s going to be so much worse now.

I can never talk to them again.

Is that a good thing? Didn’t I want that?

Bucky could sense you getting lost in your head. “Sweetheart, tell me what happened, please. I want to help you.”

You pulled your hands away from his and crossed your arms. “You can’t help me because there’s nothing wrong, okay? I handled it, it’s over. Done. nothing to worry about.”

“Y/n -”

“No really, there’s nothing you can do, okay?”

“Will you at least let me try?”

You looked at him, adrenaline starting to drain from your system. This was Bucky, your Bucky, who had never done anything but love and support you. He had never done anything to hurt you.

But what if he left you too?

You took in a sharp breath and curled in on yourself, a scared look on your face. Bucky crossed back over to you, seeing a scared look on your face.

“Hey, hey, y/n? Can you look at me?”

You brought your eyes up to meet his, feeling your chest constricting as you tried to keep your breathing even. It wasn’t working.

“I - I’m sorry, you shouldn’t… I’m fine really I’m sorry, I’m so sorry”

“Hey, it’s alright, it’s okay, you have nothing to apologize for,” he pulled you in for a hug and kissed the top of your head. “Let’s go sit down, okay?’

He led you over to your bed and you leaned forward, hands on your knees and head in your hands. “I’m sorry, I don’t know what’s happening, this - I’m sorry, it’s so stupid, I’m so stupid.”

Bucky rubbed a hand up and down your back, hushing you. “It’s not stupid. If it’s bothering you, it’s not stupid.” Bucky took a small breath. “Do you remember all of those times after nightmares and all those panic attacks you would walk me through? How I thought I was being stupid?”

“You weren’t being stupid”

“And neither are you.”

You took some more shaky breaths as tears kept falling down your face. “You’re okay. It’s alright, I’m right here.”

Bucky let you calm down, knowing you would talk about it if you wanted to. He wanted you to talk about it so he could help you (and hurt whoever upset you) but he wouldn’t force you into telling him anything you didn’t want to.

The two of you sat in the silence, Bucky looking at you with soft eyes as you kept your face hidden.

“I haven’t told you a goddamn thing about me. You ever wonder why?”

You looked over at Bucky, eyebrows creased with slight confusion.

“They said blood was supposed to be thicker than water. That family comes first, right? I spent my whole life listening to them and following them and being the perfect kid. I made myself into everything they wanted me to be. And it still wasn’t enough for them.”

Bucky tilted his head slightly. He hadn’t known his parents much before they died but he had always wanted to have more time. But he wasn’t oblivious to the fact that not everyone had good parents.

“You know, I remember thinking that once I made it they would be happy. That if I worked hard enough or went onto do great things that they would be proud of me. That’s all I ever wanted, you know?” you said, voice wavering as you let out a bitter laugh. “But it’s not, you know? Never is, never was, never will be. All they do is take and take and no matter how good I am they’re always gonna hate me because I can’t be perfect.”

“No one’s perfect, y/n.”

“Well that’s what they want me to be. I know I can’t be perfect so I know they’ll never be happy. That they’ll call me ungrateful and selfish for succeeding and for leaving them when they never wanted me to be there to begin with.” You felt tears spill over as you wiped them away. “And I’m ust so fucking done with being a disappointment to them and to everyone else.”

“Why didn’t you tell anyone?”

“I don’t know,” you said softly, not really wanting to be more vulnerable.

Bucky, sensing this was a time he could push you, challenged you. “I think you do.”

You shook your head. “I didn’t want anyone to see me the way they did. I thought what they said wasn’t true but...I just thought that maybe I was overreacting. Other people have it worse you know - some people have no parents or some have it so much worse. Mine just yell at me you know? Tell me everything’s my fault and that they wish they’d never had me. That I’m ungrateful for not being with them and that I owe them. I just...I heard that for the first 18 years of my life. I didn’t need any more of it.”

“y/n, that’s…” he swallowed, trying to contain his anger. “That’s not normal. No one should have to go through that. You can’t possibly think you're a bad person.”

Your shrug was enough to tell him that you did.

“Y/n, I don’t know who your parents think they are but you don’t owe them a damn thing. You may be related to them but you have no obligation to love your parents if they treat you like that. You have every right to be angry or to hate them. It doesn’t make you a bad person to be angry with someone who hurt you.”

“But they’re my family.”

“Well they didn’t treat you like it. You have us now, you don’t need them anymore. We’re your family. And we’re not gonna leave you.”

“They didn’t leave me Bucky, I left them.”

“You can’t leave someone who was never there for you.”

----------

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