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#daydreaming in front of my open laptop
i-will-write · 8 months
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wordswithloveee · 6 months
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I find that the harder I work, the more luck I seem to have.
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joonberriess · 7 months
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𓆩♡𓆪 “you don’t have to admit you wanna play, just let me rock you till the break of day,” – jock!jk
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·˚ ༘ 💌 TAGS — simping at its finest, blowjobs, cum-swallowing, degradation, dumbification, jk is mean but also a praise fanatic, oc is a cute puppy who eats it all up, objectification(?) pretty sure bc jk just has unholy thoughts about oc, oc is THEE it girl, dirty talking, messy lil make-outs, thank you kiss on the tip LOL, PET NAME GALORE, oc is a nice lil bimbo everyone loves ❤️ even jk’s friends luv her
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Jungkook listened to whatever the hell Jennie was explaining to him, in truth he stopped paying attention like five minutes ago. He sat there like a fried vegetable just zoning out and nodding mindlessly whenever Jennie looked at him and asked if he agreed etc. He didn’t want to be rude to Jennie but any more of this and he’d go insane he fears.
“So for the powerpoint I was thinking we should..” Jennie’s voice slowly fades out as the sound of the front door opening catches Jungkook’s eye/attention. Holy shit he doesn’t believe what he’s witnessing. He doesn’t realize he’s staring hardcore at Jennie’s poor unsuspecting roommate.
He instantly recognizes you as the girl he sees his team/friends go crazy over. You were quite the talk of the campus—cute, slutty, bimbo-like, these were some of the most common things said. If Jungkook had to admit, you were pretty cute and he’s only ever really seen you casually here and there. He finds himself licking his lips slowly and sitting up while clearing his throat.
“Hi Jennie, hi Jennie’s friend.” You sweetly say while waving at Jungkook politely. He gets an eyeful of tits and soft tummy as you pass by.
You’re wearing this soft pink tracksuit and white baby tee crop top which hugs your pretty little tits just nicely. Don’t even get him started about your backside which is enough in itself to bring a tear to his eye. Jungkook doesn’t realize he’s overdoing it with his staring until Jennie clears her throat pretty loudly.
“Ahem.” She glares at him, “As I was saying,” she shoves her laptop in Jungkook’s face.
He doesn’t see more of you because you end up heading down the hall to your room after saying “bye-bye” to both him and Jennie. “What? Why are you looking at me like that?” He grunts in annoyance.
“Not my roommate Jeon, you can go about fucking anything that fucking walks and has a hole between their legs but you leave y/n out of your lechery. Got it?” She hisses, “I can see the gears working in that stupid head of yours, so I’m warning you. Now help me with this powerpoint asshole, I’m not doing all the work.”
Jungkook internally groans—overprotective roommate, greaaat.
Whole time he works on the project his mind is filled with obscene thoughts and nasty little daydreams he comes up with just thinking about you. Jungkook’s had his fair share of hook-ups but none have ever truly made him go this crazy before. He’s fucking FIENDING for it, would be on his damn knees begging for you to crush his head with your soft thighs if he could.
Too bad Jennie said you were off-limits though. Unless..
Much to Jungkook’s dismay he doesn’t see you for the remainder of the time he’s there. He does see you more often around campus though, whether it’s you hopping out of your very pink car or you running about all over campus with a pink drink in your hands. He can’t get enough of you, and it’s fucking obvious to his friends who make fun of him for it.
“y/n, Kook? Really?” Yugyeom snorts, “Only in your fucking dreams will you ever hit that, your little guy down there probably wouldn’t even know what to do with all that ass.” Laughter all around them erupts as Yugyeom smugly smirks, happy with himself.
Jungkook rolls his eyes, “You’re so fucking stupid,” more laughing, “honestly, if anyone has more chances it’s me, you’re all either losers AND she’s never bat an eye at you. I don’t see any action from any of you either, all talk and shit.” He mutters while taking a drag from the blunt they were all passing around.
“Not true! y/n is a nice girl Jungkook.” Jimin snorts, “Watch,” he turns around and looks over the area for you, “hey y/n!” He yells while waving his arms. They all wait patiently for your reaction, low and behold you just end up proving Jimin correct.
You look confused at first until you smile brightly, “Hi,” you wave back while walking over, “what are you guys up to?” You tilt your head, lips pursed in a adorable little pout.
“Smoking.” Yugyeom replies curtly, “Want some?” He holds the blunt out to you.
Jungkook doesn’t know why but that shit irks the fuck out of him, he shoots his friend a glare and fans the smoke out of your direction before it can hit you. You smell like chai mixed with pumpkin, and he definitely does NOT want to ruin your pretty smell.
“No thank you,” you politely reply and then turn to look at Jimin again, “ ‘m a little sad though, because this morning I tried to make waffles but I didn’t know you had to actually pull the lever down and I didn’t get to eat my waffles.” You sigh wistfully, “See?” You hold out the raw and cold waffles wrapped up in a napkin, “And I don’t like it,” you shake your head, “you’re my friend right Jiminie? Can you buy me some waffles from the cafe pretty please?” You whine.
Jimin turns a little red at the nickname and nods, “Here,” he holds out a couple of bills, more than enough.
The other guys scramble for their wallets, “I’m your friend too right y/n?” They say while holding out their own money to you. Jungkook just stands there slack-jawed, he has never seen his own friends this fucking down-bad before. Oh, but they wanted to laugh at him for simping after you? Funny how the tables have turned.
“Reallyyyy?” You breathily giggle while accepting the money, “Thank you!” You kiss Jimin on the cheek before skipping away with literally breakfast, lunch, and dinner money.
“But I’M the fuckin’ simp? Yeah, totally.” Jungkook scoffs while shaking his head.
Jungkook starts making up an excuse to talk to you from then on. He doesn’t have to do much because you do all the talking for him, he just stands there listening to you ramble on and on about something he doesn’t recall asking. He thinks it’s cute when you stop mid-sentence and say in utter confusion, “What was I talking about again?”
If he could, he’d sit there and just listen to you talk all day. He’s surprised how much he likes your ditziness and dumb little brain fart moments, he finds that he doesn’t mind it so much. Like now, he was sitting there propped up against his car in the parking lot listening to you rant about astrology, time-loops, and anime..?
“Yeah?” Jungkook occasionally says while he watches you passionately explain to him what a fucking shinigami was.
“Think about it—politics and death notebooks, they go hand in hand for disaster and doom.” You softly say, completely side-tracking from the original topic, “I wish I had a shinigami though,” you pout while tapping your finger against your chin, “I think Ryuk is pretty cool. Have you seen the anime?”
Jungkook hums, “No, heard of it but haven’t seen it. So like, shinigami’s come with a death note or what?” He asks, ready for another little rant of yours (he doesn’t mind though). His eyes fall down to your pretty camisole you wore today. You were wearing these cute tight jeans that hung low on your hips, he loved the little pink bows you attached to the belt loops.
“Mm-hm,” you nod, “oh! I gotta go before I forget, all my undies shrunk in the dryer and now they’re pretty tight ‘n they fit a little smaller so now I have to buy some more.” You pout, “Bye Jungkookie,” you throw one arm around his neck as you side-hug him, standing on your tippy toes to reach his height as you press a kiss to his cheek, “bye-bye!” You wave and run off.
“Bye..” Jungkook whispers in awe, he smells a hint of your perfume on his shirt and he vows then and there he isn’t going to wash this shirt anytime soon.
The next time that Jungkook sees you it’s when he’s leaving your shared apartment after another project session. He sees you bent over while poking and trying to pull at the gas tank lid, which is obviously sealed shut. He whistles under his breath and walks over, eyes dropping down to your perky ass which is covered in these pretty little shorts which hug both cheeks nice and tight.
“What you doing down there, hm?” Jungkook leans against the car with his arms folded over his chest and an amused smile on his face, “Having fun?”
“Jungkook, hi,” you greet softly while standing up straight, “I was just trying to get this stupid thingy open because Jennie is letting me borrow her car cause mine is in the shop getting the windows tinted,” you pout, “but I don’t know how to open this stupid thing, and I wanna fill her car with gas as a thank you for letting me borrow it. Help meeeee,” you whine tugging at his arm.
“C’mere,” he loosely wraps an arm around your waist and guides you to sit in the driver's seat, “you see this baby?” He squats down so he’s eye-level with you, his free hand rests over your soft thighs while he points with his other, “You just pull this, and wa-la, the gas tank lid pops right open.” He chuckles and squeezes your thigh.
Your eyes brighten, “Reallyyy? How cool, thank you.” You happily throw your arms around his neck and hug him tightly, “no wonder that stupid thing wasn’t opening.” You giggle.
Jungkook takes a deep whiff of your soft coconut smell, he closes his eyes and sighs in pure bliss. This was the dream dammit, he never wanted to leave this spot EVER. “It was no problem really.” He mumbles more to himself while he stares at your pretty tits.
Fuck the friend code (if you can even call Jennie’s threat that), friend code didn’t have a pair of child-bearing hips and a ass shaped like a fucking peach like you did. Who was Jennie to keep all of you to herself so selfishly?
“Jungkook,” you softly say, “ ‘m gonna give you a thank you kiss.”
Jungkook laughs in amusement over how proud of yourself you look right now, he finds himself shaking his head and speaking in a lower pitched tone, “Yeah, where? Right here?” He turns his face to stick his cheek out.
A tiny little giggle escapes your lips as you nod at him, “Mm-hmm, right there.” You lean upwards to kiss his cheek gently, emitting a soft smacking noise as you happily smooch him. “There.” You say more to yourself.
Jungkook’s eyes drop down to your jiggly boobs which are pretty much in his face at this point. Your camisole somehow dips lower as your tits sit perfectly pushed together to accentuate their size. He tells himself not to but his dick seems to say otherwise as it stirs up in the confinements of his boxers. He already knows he’s about to be sporting a hard-on by the end of this interaction so he gives in.
“Want another kiss..” He mumbles while licking his lips, “But not on my cheek..got somethin’ else you can kiss.”
Your eyes follow his line of sight and you come across the very prominent bulge sitting behind his sweats. Your cheeks feel hot from embarrassment as the familiar throbbing sensation forms between your legs. Jungkook sees this when you suddenly begin rubbing your soft thighs together while staring back at him through half-lidded eyes.
“Whaddya say baby,” he lazily grins, “can I get that kiss?”
You stare back at him with those sweet puppy eyes of yours and nod eagerly.
.
Lips smacking against lips and quiet little moans/noises fill the otherwise dimly lit car (God bless his Mercedes for the interior lighting). You were tucked away on his lap in the backseat of the car, windows foggy and all as your hand slipped from the glass. Jungkook could die a happy man right now with the way he had a handful of ass sitting in the palms of his hands. He gave your soft cheeks appreciative squeezes as he kneaded the flesh roughly—greedily.
His own lips were a bit swollen from the hot make-out session but he didn’t mind, you were one hell of a kisser. One thing he didn’t see coming was how much of a little sex fiend you were, he swears he can’t keep up with how needy and slutty you are. He almost finds it cute how you pout and beg for him to let you have it while simultaneously humping him and refusing to let him part from the kiss.
Jungkook raised his hand and brought it down hard on your ass cheek, relishing in the resounding slap noise and how it recoiled/bounced in place. A slutty little moan escapes your lips as you pull back and pant softly against his lips, “Take ‘em off,” you slur softly, “hate these stupid shorts, gettin’ in my way.” You mumble with a tiny pout.
“Gonna let me see what’s underneath baby?” He looks up through his hooded eyes, grinning when he sees you eagerly nodding back at him, “Yeah? Go on then, slide ‘em off baby, show me what you got on.” He smacks your ass and gropes it harshly, only letting go when you whine at him while unbuttoning your shorts.
He swears under his breath as soon as the button pops open and you slip the zipper down. The hem of your undies comes into view, he sees a tiny bow sitting at the top so innocently and he can’t help but wonder what the rest of your panties are like.. Jungkook reclines back on the seat and parts his legs to make room for you.
You manage to slip your shorts down your thighs slowly with your hips swaying from side to side. Jungkook lets out an audible groan when he sees the cheeky undergarment that was hiding underneath. “Well don’t you look pretty,” he comments while running his hand over your ass, “bet you look prettier under.” He mumbles while licking his lips.
“But what about your kiss?” You pout.
Jungkook smacks your ass wickedly, “Don’t give me that fuckin’ pout. Didn’t know you were that eager to suck my cock, ‘s all you’re good for isn’t it baby? Just a dumb little thing who needs her mouth filled huh?” He grins when he hears you moan, “You gonna be a good little cock sleeve for me?”
“The best,” you happily slur, “ ‘m gonna swallow every last drop, promise.”
He finds it endearing when you hold your pinky out to him, and not wanting to be mean he hooks his pinky with yours, “Good girl.” He brings you in for a gentle little smooch, “Gonna ruin that pretty face of yours baby,” he whispers in-between kisses, “get on your knees for me.”
Jungkook finds that he likes how submissive and responsive you are to him, makes it a hundred times sexier in his opinion. You sink to your knees in front of him without missing a beat, you have your hands set over his knees as you sit there waiting with puppy eyes. “Go ahead baby, ‘s all yours.” He chuckles.
You eagerly paw at his sweats and with his help pull them down alongside his boxers until his fat cock is springing out and slapping against his lower abdomen. Your mouth waters when your eyes land on his perfectly sculpted cock, now you wanna feel it inside of you more than ever. His cock lays against his stomach, flush at the tip with prominent veins on the underside of his shaft.
“ ‘s mine…?” You whisper breathily while pursing yours lips, “ ‘s so pretty..” You’re talking more to yourself as you grab ahold of his throbbing cock and bring the mushroomy tip to your lips. Your tongue pokes out as you swirl it over the head, moaning softly at the tangy taste.
Jungkook bites down on his lip as he watches with hooded eyes, he can’t believe his wet dreams are coming true. Did he save an entire country in his past life? Made sense with how lucky he was right now. He brings his tattooed hand over the back of your head as he simply rests it there, letting you explore his dick like if it was a lollipop or some shit.
Your lips wrap around the head as you make these sloppy little sucking noises. Trickles of saliva begin to trickle down his cock, you use it as lube to stroke his girthy shaft—twisting and turning your hand around it while you noisily swallow around the tip. Jungkook’s lips part with breathy sighs escaping him, he relaxes into the seat and leans his head back with his eyes slipped shut.
You’re working wonders on his cock right now with the way you’re slowly taking more and more of him into your mouth. “Like that,” he whispers more to himself as he moans out again when you dip your tongue into the sensitive slit of his tip. Your strokes become slower but much more intense with the pressure you start applying. It’s getting a lot harder now to control himself from bucking his hips or something.
“Shit, don’t tease me baby,” he groans, “been thinking about your pretty little lips wrapped around my cock for weeks now. Knew you’d look pretty with a mouth full of cock.” Jungkook opens his eyes again to admire the view. “Open up for me baby,” he reaches down to thumb at your lower lip, “there you go—like that.” He grins.
He feeds you more of his cock watching as you eagerly take more and more until the tip hits the back of your throat. It sends you into a small gagging fit but the vibrations and pressure of your throat closing around him definitely sends zaps of hot pleasure down in his groin and lower belly. “Shit.” He groans loudly.
You whine around his cock and pull away to catch your breath, his cock slips from your mouth with a string of saliva connecting your lips to his cock. Jungkook hisses quietly under his breath and reaches down to stroke his slicked up cock, “Messy little thing you are.”
“Off, off, ‘s my turn.” You huff cutely before swallowing his cock in one go now that you’re a bit more prepared.
It takes Jungkook by surprise as he groans loudly and throws his head back. You begin working wonders with that sinful tongue of yours, pairing it with some mean ass sucks. He lets his hand slip from the back of your head to the nape of your neck, just holding you there as he lets you do your thing. You begin bobbing your head slowly while noisily swallowing around his cock.
“Fucking hell y/n,” he whispers slack-jawed, you’re a damn menace. How the hell is he supposed to last? “You just needed something to fill that needy hole of yours didn’t you?” He pants softly, “Knew the moment I saw you that you were made for my cock baby. If only you could see yourself now.” He licks his lips and gives your neck a small gentle squeeze between his fingers.
You slurp up all the slick you leave behind on his cock, your hand sits at the base just idly gripping him while your mouth does all the work. You pull all the way up until the tip sits in your mouth before you swoop back down to take all of him in. He repeatedly hits the back of your throat but you do a much better job at controlling your gag reflex this time around. Your sloppy pace definitely has Jungkook moaning and grunting under his breath.
“Gonna cum,” he sighs, “keep going—like that.” He whispers as a full body shudder falls over him.
You eagerly pull off his cock and begin stroking him at a frantic pace. You watch with glee as his cock begins to throb in your hold, but you don’t let it deter you one bit. You’re eager to see him cum, you want it all in your mouth. “Like this?” You say this while squeezing around the tip and flicking your thumb over it.
Jungkook gasps softly, “Fuck..!” He hisses.
You smile deviously and bring the tip over your lips, “Or like this?” You whisper, blowing softly over his sensitive head before you take him back into your mouth.
Jungkook lets out a mantra of “fucks” and “yes’s” as he reaches down to grip his cock, his hand covers your own as he begins moving your hand up and down on his cock. You suckle at the head and watch as he comes undone. “Oh fuckkk..” He whispers as his cock throbs, cum shooting down your throat as you swallow around him greedily.
He slumps in the seat and pants quietly while watching you clean his dick with your sinful little tongue. He doesn’t think he’s ever cum that hard in his entire life before. He saw the pearly white gates of heaven just now.. “A-Ah shit, no more baby, ‘s sensitive.” He chuckles breathily when you try to suck on his (slowly softening) cock.
You pull back with a cheerful smile on your face, the corner of your mouth has drool and a bit of cum but you don’t seem to mind, “ ‘s so pretty.” You coo like his dick is the most amazing thing ever, he watches you lean over to press a tiny little kiss to the sensitive head.
Are you even real??
“C’mere,” he pats his lap, “I saw the way you were humping your own hand like a bitch in heat the entire time you had my cock in your mouth.” He says as he hauls you up, “You also deserve a nice little thank you, don’t you baby?” He grins while stroking his hands over your soft cheeks.
You nod eagerly, “Mm-hm,” you wrap your arms around his neck and tug him closer, “do you wanna come upstairs after this? I wanna introduce you to my bunny Luna! Oh, and we can watch some anime together because I think it’s lame you haven’t seen Sailor Moon OR Death Note.” You huff in disbelief.
Little did Jungkook know that by saying yes to all that he’d end up staying for wayyyyy longer than he initially planned. You becoming (a important) part of his life was a bonus. <3
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TAGLIST: @fragmentof-indifference @jungkooksseuphoria @kooliv @angelarin @jjeonjjk7 @lilliankoo @pb-n-juju @ellesalazar @saweetspoiled @laylasbunbunny @prettyprincejk @cherrysainttt @hyunjinswifeee @joongraduatewithonor @hellbornsworld @leire-mia @m1sss1mp @lissful @winkii @lifeless-firefly @exactlygreatcoffee @taestoess @ayalies @floweryjeons @softtcurse @lilspinachwrld @tearyjjeon @littleobsessedkitty @lovelovelovebts @angeljmnie @rerefundslocals @bangtans-mama @thvhoe @maddkitt @tvse @ohjeon @teteswtnr @jkslovey12 @kelsyx33 @milfpo1ice @sluttydidi @ztyur @beomgyuult @shescharlie @sweet-sourhotcoco @lalita-7 @hazzzelsdimension @p34rluv @kook-net @bonita0-0 @vmapy @dahliadaenerys @gukiebaby @babycandy111
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daydream
chrisxfem!reader
summary - you spent the whole day waiting to see your boyfriend and when you do it was worth the wait
warnings - super fluffyyyy, kissing, use of y/n, suggestive????
NOT PROOFREAD
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sitting in class i couldnt wait to see chris. we have been dating for over 8 months now and i could not be any happier with our relationship. except for when we were apart. all day i just wanted to see him, kiss him, hug him and just be with him. i go to uni while him and his brothers pursue their wildly successful youtube channel and we somehow met at an LA party. ever since then i never wanted to be away from him. but uni classes are extremely time consuming so usually i just spend nights with him when i can.
today was one of those nights and i was physically jittery just waiting to see him later. just imagining ordering dinner watching a movie and sharing some time together was more than enough motivation for me to speed the hell out of class when we were dismissed around 8pm. i went to my dorm, showered, packed, and put on a tank top, sweatpants and head out the door.
the drive feels a million minutes too long as i finally get to his house which he shares with his triplet brothers and i eagerly grab my sleepover bag and my laptop from my bag seat and sprint towards the front door. knocking and impatiently waiting for an answer and im greeted by nick, “oh hey y/n, didnt know you were coming tonight i thought you had that huge assignment due.” he welcomes me in. “i decided i would just work on it here, just wanted to see chris you know.” i smile, “you guys are so in love it actually drives me insane.” he jokingly scoffs and rolls his eyes. i laugh and walk in taking my shoes off and walking downstairs to his room.
i walk in and dont see him but hear the shower running, internally thanking myself for showering beforehand cause all i wanted to do was just be with my boyfriend. his room is awfully cold so i just put my stuff down and engulf myself with his duvet. getting comfy and slightly dozing off as i wait for him.
i faintly hear the bathroom door open and hear him walk towards the bed but dont feel a dip in the mattress, “chris!” i exclaim getting up and moving towards the edge of his bed and hug his torso laying my head on his stomach. “hi my girl.” he chuckles placing a hand on the back of my head. i feel drops of water from his wet hair and hear him sigh, “long day?” i ask.
“yeah but its ok im glad you decided to do your paper here i was missing you.” he says and i look up at him. he bends down and places a kiss on my lips before lifting me up and placing my on the floor. “what do you want to eat im so hungry.” he asks, “honestly ill eat anything lets ask your brothers what they want.” i suggest. he nods and leads me out of the room upstairs
we all decide on ordering for an italian place and we all end up getting alfredo.
“im gonna go brush my teeth babe.” i say getting up from the dinner table and placing my plate in the dishwasher. chris nods at me as he continues to talk to his brothers and i make my way down to his bathroom.
taking out the toothbrush i leave at his house and brush them and use mouth wash. i wash my face and put on my skincare getting ready for bed and see chris starring at me from the door way. i smile at him and he walks over placing a kiss to my cheek before grabbing his tooth brush.
i prop myself up on the counter and just watch him as he does so, admiring his every move. i never knew that i could be so infatuated by someone that i enjoy watching them do something so simple such as brushing their teeth. “wanna go put on our show?” he spits out the toothpaste in his mouth. i smile and nod at him and hop off the counter walking towards the bed and grabbing the remote. turning on the episode and pausing it waiting for chris.
i get up when i see him walk back in to the room and hold my arms out at him. he smiles and wraps his arms under mine and we lay down. my head is on his chest and our legs and tangled under the covers. i sigh contentedly against him and he looks down, “whats wrong?”
“absolutely nothing.” i smile nuzzling my head closer to him, “i missed you so much today, i couldnt wait for class to be over so i could see you.”
“i missed you today too.” he smiles and i lift my head up to kiss him. he flips us over so he laying on top of me now and places kisses all over my face, neck, collar and then rests his head down in the crook of my neck. “are you done yet?” i chuckle and i feel him nod.
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thanks for reading xx
taglist: @sleepysturnss @blahbel668 @alorsxsturn @w4nnabeurs @junnniiieee07 @waydasims @matthewloverr @bitchydragonparadise @matthewsturnioloswifey @iloveneilperry @stunza @realuvrrr @sturnsjtop @canthelpit0 @lilsstvrn @sturniololol @sturnssmuts @emlovesthesturniolos @demisthings05
a/n: wrote this immediately after i had this exact dream so if its ass blame my sleepy state!!!
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oddinary4bts · 11 months
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Love is a Laserquest | choi san
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☆summary: years after your break-up, Choi San comes to you for help. In an attempt to save his life, you escape to your uncle's cabin in the woods far from civilization. Will nostalgia and longing make you fall again, or is Choi San just spinning more lies to you?
☆pairing: gangster!Choi San x female!reader
☆rating: 18+ (minors DNI)
☆genre: gangster au, exes au, angst, smut, a smidge of the one bed trope
☆warnings: guns/gun violence (mentioned), knifes/stabbing (mentioned), a bounty over San's head, death of a minor character (named Jungkook my bad), blood, injuries, stitches, probably some wrong medical terminology bc optometrists don't stitch up people lmao, a panic attack, cursing, pet names, explicit content: oral sex (female receiving) -> face riding, let me know if I forgot any!
☆word count: 16.5k
☆a/n: Here's my submission for Outlaw: The Project hosted by @ssaboala. It is coincidentally my first time posting about another group than bts, so I hope this won't disappoint! I really enjoyed writing it (even though it's really sad oop). Also my first time making a moodboard so hopefully it works haha
☆a/n pt2: thank you to @moonleeai for being my ever-so faithful beta reader, love you lots <3
☆☆☆☆☆
And do you still think love is a Laserquest? Or do you take it all more seriously? I’ve tried to ask you this in some daydreams that I’ve had But you’re always busy being make-believe
Love is a Laserquest – Arctic Monkeys
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The diner is silent, unoccupied. It always is on late weekday evenings, when most patrons have gone to bed, the city falling under a carpet of hushed silence only night can bring forth. It makes the diner feel like it’s straight out of a 70s movie, and it makes for the perfect study sessions too.
Night isn’t always soundless in your part of town. Hence why you’ve been trying to escape, pursuing an education that has been leaving you penniless, but with a bright future ahead. If you make it out of med school at a certain point, that is.
Tonight, you fear the peace that night usually entails has been ruined for you – there were gunshots earlier, close enough for you to see the police cars racing past as the law officers made it to probably yet another gang fight.
There’s been a gang war on your side of town. The diner has always been safe, a refuge for both sides of the war, where they aren’t allowed to fight. To carry in weapons and hatred. No, the moment they cross the threshold of the diner, the gangsters become one family, sharing struggles that only poverty can cause.
You wipe a table clean before walking back towards the counter. Your open laptop waits for you, and you quickly read the study guide you’ve made for yourself, the cardiovascular system and its pathologies forming a maze in your mind that you’ve yet to decode. Luckily enough, you still have a week before the bloc ends and you have to take the exam.
Plenty of time to cram everything about the heart in your thick little skull, you’d say.
Your lips move in time with what you’re reading, attention solely focused on the bright screen when a thump is heard right outside the door. It startles you, and you turn around to see the empty street out of the glass door.
It takes you about ten seconds to notice the dark form sitting on the ground. They’re leaning against the door, head lolling to the side. You assume it must be someone that’s ended unhoused, something that happens far too often where you live.
You’ve always been kind. When you were younger, you were told your kindness would be your demise. Yet you’ve never been able to be anything but kind, even though sometimes it might put you at risk. So you can’t resist but walk to the front door, trying to push it open.
It’s useless – the weight of the person is keeping it tightly shut, though they do straighten a little, as if coming to their senses. They turn, and the moment their profile comes into view you’re brought back eight years in the past. To a time when the world was still a beautiful place, void of violence and cruelty. To a smile so sweet it made flowers blossom on your heart, and to eyes so sharp you knew they had read your soul.
Choi San is sitting outside the door, and the caked blood on his cheek tells you enough – he’s injured. He pushes away from the door before slowly getting up. He clutches his side as he does it, yet when he turns back towards you and faces your horrified eyes, he still offers you a smirk.
You push the door open, thinking about the years between then and now. You had dated him for a few months that had felt like forever, until you had realized in what kind of business he was getting involved with. You had tried to convince him to flee before it was too late, and he kept promising that he would.
Only he never did, hiding lies with beautiful words that made your teenage self swoon, until your parents had realized and forced you to break up. It had been a nasty break-up, filled with hatred and words you didn’t mean yet had needed to say for him to leave.
You remember breaking his heart like it was yesterday.
“Choi San,” you greet him, and when he lets go of his side, you notice blood on his hand.
Something runs cold inside of you, even though he still sports a smirk on his lips.
He says your name, bowing his head. “Haven’t seen you in a while.”
Months, in fact. Because he does come to the diner sometimes. He usually ignores you, and so do you, so it feels strange to have him speak to you. To hear his voice as his words are addressed to you.
“What…” you trail off, glancing down at the ripped fabric of his black tank top.
He’s got a mean cut on his ribs, and it’s only then that you truly realize that he’s badly injured. Because there’s more – one of his biceps has been sliced open too, though blood is barely oozing out of it in small rivulets. The blood on his cheek is from where you assume he’s been punched with rings, and there’s already an underlying bruise under his eye.
“Got beaten up,” he states the obvious, and you immediately open the door wider to let him in.
He limps in, heading towards the nearest booth, where he plops down and lets out a pained grunt. You make sure no one is outside before shutting the door and locking it, flipping the hanging sign on it so it says closed in case a patron decides to show up.
You take a few steps towards San, hands shaking slightly at your side. Because that’s a grown man, bleeding out on the leather seat of the booth, and his eyes are shut though he looks in pain. You don’t know what you’re supposed to do. You haven’t yet started your residency, haven’t really gone from theory to practice… Yet you’re studying to be a doctor, are you not?
“Why are you here?” you ask, though you’re pretty sure you know the answer.
“Didn’t know where else to go,” he says, wincing as one of his eyes opens. He tilts his head to look towards you. “Word around the block says…” he pauses, takes a deep breath before continuing, “that you’re studying to be a doctor”.
So you are right. He’s here because he needs your help, and you’re not quite sure how you feel about it.
“Why…” You look for words, and it takes you a moment to realize that it doesn’t matter.
For all the history between you and him, Choi San doesn’t deserve to bleed out to death on a cheap leather seat in a forgotten diner on the dangerous side of town.
He has the decency to chuckle at the start of your question, which only makes him wince in pain once again.
“Don’t move,” you tell him, and it’s a little stupid because clearly, he’s in no state to move.
He doesn’t question it, and you run to the kitchen to thoroughly wash your hands and grab the first aid kit. At night, no cooks stay around, and you usually only reheat food if needed, which doesn’t really happen. You haven’t had any client coming in at night in weeks… until San, that is. So no one is there to see what is going on, which you reckon is a relief. Because you have no idea what’s going on.
You return to the booth where San is waiting, patiently. He’s clearly wiped his hand on his face because there’s fresh blood on his forehead, and you almost balk at the sight of it.
“What have you done?” you mutter, more to yourself than to him.
It seems he’s still in sync with you because he still hears. “Got involved with the wrong crowd.”
You put the first aid kit down on the table, ignoring his eyes when they flutter open, and he rests his gaze on you.
“I don’t know if I can help you,” you say as you unzip the kit and throw it open. You spare his side a quick glance. “This looks like you’re going to need stitches.”
He makes an effort of looking down at himself, though it mostly fails as he doesn’t raise his head from the seat. “Right.”
You grab everything you think you might need – alcohol swabs to clean his skin, fresh linen to bandage his side and arm, and stuff for his cheek too. He carefully observes you, with that piercing gaze of his that used to make you go crazy inside when you were young and impressionable.
You vaguely motion at him, and he cocks an eyebrow. “What?”
“Are you able to sit up?” you ask. “I can’t reach you if you’re lying back like this.”
His pink tongue darts to wet his lips, and he nods curtly. “Let me…” he trails off, resting a bloody hand on the table while he grabs at the back of the booth to push himself up. It has new blood appearing on his side, and you quickly move towards him, putting some linen against it.
As if it’s going to do anything. He clearly needs stitches, and you’ve got nothing with you to stitch him up.
“Fuck,” he curses lowly as he’s finally sitting. You just keep the linen on his side, eyes a little wide.
Your gazes connect inevitably, and time slows. You think about how he used to smile, how his eyes used to hold a softness you haven’t had the chance to see again since he’s walked out of your life.
Or rather, since you kicked him out of your life.
“I don’t think I can help,” you whisper, and his eyes flicker to your lips.
“I can’t go to the hospital,” he admits, shame turning his features into a mask of regret. “They… If they find me, I’m dead.”
Dread fills every ounce of your being. “San, what have you been doing?”
He looks away from your insistent gaze, scoffing slightly. “You don’t want to know.”
He isn’t wrong; you genuinely don’t want to know. Because he means nothing good, even with all the memories you share with him.
“Is it going to put me in danger?” you ask, as he still obstinately avoids your gaze.
He seems to freeze in front of you, as if you’ve pressed pause to your favourite show. To avoid the awkwardness, you busy yourself with grabbing one of his hands so he can hold the linen in place before you start washing the cut on his arm. It’s not deep, but you’re pretty sure it’ll still leave a mean scar, especially considering he can’t go to the hospital.
The thought has a drop of cold sweat roll along your spine. People want him dead. People want Choi San, the man you know as a young, scared teenager just trying to find a way to make his life better, dead. You remember the innocence in his smile – has he smiled at all in the years apart?
“I should go,” he says flatly. He moves to stand, but you hold him down, two hands firmly placed on his shoulders. It makes him wince, and you quickly release your grip.
“Don’t,” you tell him. “Let me at least patch you up.”
His eyes shut again as his head hangs low. “I am so sorry.”
You don’t even know who he is apologizing to, or why he is. All you know is that it causes your heart to clench in your chest, stealing the breath from your lungs.
When you were younger, you believed San was your star-crossed lover. You believed your high school sweethearts romance would grow until you’d be old and grey and at the end of a very long road. You had dreamed of a future with him, the way only teenagers can dream – with no sense of reality. Because your reality had never been to end up by his side.
His choices had been proof enough of it.
You still remember the day you first kissed. Under an August meteor shower, with just the night sky as your witness. It had been hesitant, slow and soft, just like everything with San. And you had believed the lie, trusted it with every beat of your little heart, until your parents had found out the truth about him.
Until they had broken your heart, even before you had broken his.
If the stars had known then, what was going to happen to you and Choi San, would they still have shone through the night?
He lets out a pained sound as you gently dab at the cut on his bicep. You clean the skin around the wound in and of itself, and he watches you carefully, piercing gaze not missing how your face clouds with memories.
“How have you been doing?” he asks so softly you think his words are a gentle summer breeze on your features.
You can almost still smell the summer night air of that field where you had stargazed, where you’d always meet so long ago.
“I’ve been okay,” you answer, truthfully. Because even though you haven’t seen him, you have lived your life apart from him. Have evolved without him by your side. “Better than you, visibly.”
He didn’t expect the joke. It makes him snort, and then a soft smile grows on his lips, softening the edges of his hard features. “You haven’t changed.”
You have, and yet you haven’t. Like him, you think there’s a part of you that is still sixteen, and will forever be. A part of you that remained stuck in the moment when you watched him walk away in the rain, as if even the sky had to cry for his broken heart.
“Wish I could say the same about you,” you murmur, nostalgia a melancholic song in your words.
He chooses to remain silent, because the proof of how much he’s changed is sitting right in front of you, wounded and bleeding and hurt. The hurt is behind his eyes, in the shadows of the past that have also been obscuring your vision.
“Yeah,” he lets out, barely audible.
And then silence reigns between you, because as much as you once loved him, eight years have made you strangers. You don’t know anything about his life except the dirty, obvious darkness that surrounds him, and he doesn’t know anything except that you are studying to be a doctor…
Which leads you to wonder how does he know in the first place?
You ask him, as you’re wrapping the linen around his bicep to make a makeshift bandage. You’re proud of the result, though your fingers can’t resist but linger on the taut skin over his muscle, surprised at how soft it still is.
“I’ve heard you mention it,” he admits, as you take a step away to look at the material on the table, as if it’ll suddenly make stitches appear for you to put them in his skin. “One of the times I was here.”
“You never said hi,” you reproach him, unable to hide the ghost of a bite in your tone.
“Neither did you,” he points out, and he isn’t wrong.
All you can do is purse your lips as you finally decide to clean his skin. But for that, you have to rid him of his tank top, to make sure there’s no fabric in the wound. You look at him, cheeks somehow burning even though all you’re doing is taking care of a patient.
Though he’s not a patient, and you’re not in a hospital. You’re just a server at a dusty, old diner and he’s just your teenage lover, wounded by his dangerous actions.
“Should I grab scissors to remove your shirt?” you ask, though you’re speaking to yourself more than to him.
He still finds it in him to tease. “You want me out of my shirt?” he enquires, smirk gracing his lips again. “Say no more.”
He tries moving, but you hold up a hand to stop him. “Don’t,” you warn. “You’ll make it bleed more.”
He purses his lips, because nodding. “Right.” He glances at the first aid kit, before his eyes trail to your face again. “You got scissors in that?”
There are. You grab them, before turning towards him. It feels strange: you’ve never undressed him before. You had always wanted to wait, back then, before you slept together. You believed you were too young, and San had always respected it.
“Let me know if I hurt you,” you tell him as you take a step closer to him.
He slightly leans back, furrowing his eyebrows. “What do you plan to do with those that might hurt?”
You roll your eyes, playfully, before taking the two other steps leading to right in front of his legs. You notice that they are slightly parted, allowing you to come closer, and you take a steadying breath before reaching between you, pulling at the fabric of his tank top.
“Stay still and you shouldn’t get hurt,” you whisper, ignoring the heaviness of his piercing gaze on you.
It burns right through you, and you have to tame the beats of your heart at the feeling of the warm skin of his shoulder against the back of your fingers as you bring your other hand forward, until you’ve started cutting his shirt.
It’s stuck to his side where blood has dried, and he winces but remains still and silent as you keep going, pulling on it a little harder to be able to cut. The moment stretches into infinity, because you can’t help but take your time. It reminds you of how you’d used to run your fingers on his back, under his shirt, when you napped in the field in the summertime. In an idyllic world where gangs and violence and war were mere inventions of the media, and not a reality that surrounded you.
You’d loved the field. The wildflowers, the open air, the way it was just you and him and a few lazy bumblebees as clouds lazily crossed the sky above. You were so young then, so innocent. Hands unstained from blood, from his blood.
Because as you cut, the hand touching his shirt stains with blood. You pale at the sight of it, but you keep going, pushing through until you’re done, gently pulling the fabric from his body until he’s sitting there, shirtless, with a long wound on his ribs.
You can’t help but notice his toned chest and the defined abs on his stomach. Though blood mars his skin, turning it into a piece of violence, Choi San is still beautiful. Beautiful in a dark, dangerous way that has you glance outside, making sure no one is looking.
But the streets are empty, void of life at this time of the night. At least, they mostly always are.
“You will need stitches,” you state again as if you both don’t know already.
“I can’t…”
An idea forms in your brain. It’s a stupid idea, and you don’t even know why it crosses your mind.
Your uncle has a hunting cabin far in the woods. He’s a nurse himself, and he’s always kept everything over there in case someone got injured and he had to stitch them up. You haven’t gone in forever, but you still remember the tall trees, the deep forest scent that reminds you of autumn and leaves and grey days spent reading by the fireplace.
You never went hunting, but you did accompany your father when he went, needing an escape from the city once in a while. An escape from a life that was slowly becoming too real.
Your uncle is currently halfway across the country, so you know you’d be alone at the cabin. You glance at your laptop over your shoulder – you have three days off in front of you before your next class on Monday. Indeed, the Friday class is pre-recorded and to watch online in your free time, and you figure you can always watch it some other time.
So you turn towards Choi San, almost surprised that he’s real and he’s still sitting in front of you, honey skin cut open on his ribs.
“I might know a place where you can go,” you admit, with a small voice, surprising both you and him. Because you doubt he expects you to want to help, after tonight.
“What?” he asks.
“My uncle’s cabin,” you remind him, because you’ve told him about it all those years ago. “He should have all that I need to stitch you up.”
San looks down at himself. “You’ve just cut my shirt open.”
It sounds a little dumbfounded, and you can’t help the nervous laugh that falls from your mouth. Because even though it doesn’t look too deep, the wound still is terrifying in and of itself.
“I’ll bandage it,” you whisper. “Before we go.”
He seems like he ponders for a time. You watch the debate across his features, his eyes falling to a spot on your chin. He looks sad, troubled and defeated. “I can’t… I can’t do this to you.”
You ignore his words, carefully washing his side. You avoid the cut and try to be as gentle as you can, but his muscles still flex as he clenches his fists from the pain.
He’s strong. That much hasn’t changed. Because he doesn’t make any sound as you finish washing him and then patch him up with those same careful hands. And when you move to his face, cleaning the blood, his eyes flutter shut, and he sighs softly.
He looks so much like he looked then that your heart aches, and you find yourself blinking away tears for this man who’s had it so rough he believed joining a gang would save him.
“I should have come to you before,” he murmurs. “You’re much gentler than Hongjoong.”
You don’t know the guy he mentioned, and you don’t feel like asking. Don’t feel like acknowledging his words, so you just finish with his cheek before stepping away from the peaceful aura that was treacherously pulling you in.
Like all those years ago, you reckon.
“Let me make a call,” you say, turning away from him as you move to the counter. You feel the weight of his eyes between your shoulder blades as you get your phone from next to your laptop. You call your boss, and as someone that’s never called in sick before, you feel anxiety flush through you.
Because you’re not sick. And how could you tell him that you need to take care of your ex-boyfriend of eight years ago?
Seokhyun picks up on the first ring, voice groggy with sleep when he mutters, “Hello?”
“Boss,” you greet him. You scrape your throat and spare a look towards San who’s watching you curiously. “An emergency came up, and I have to leave the diner.” You swallow the lump in your throat that’s formed from lying, and then you add, “There haven’t been any customers all night, so I was wondering… would you be comfortable with me closing for the rest of the night?”
Your boss says your name, a little reproachfully. But then he sighs, because he knows just as well as you what a good employee you’ve always been. “Are you going to be able to come in tomorrow night?” he asks.
You pull at dry skin on your bottom lip, assessing San’s state. You could always come back to the city for work…
“You know what, I know you’ve got that big exam coming up,” your boss says, sighing into the phone. “Why don’t you take the next week off so you can take care of your emergency and focus on your studies?”
If Seokhyun wasn’t a fifty-three year old married and father of three children man, you think you’d ask him to marry you right now.
“That would be really helpful,” you tell him, gratitude dripping from your voice. “Are you sure that won’t be a problem for the diner?”
“The diner won’t lose profit if it closes for three nights in the week,” he points out. “I’ll see if I can get you replaced for the evening shift on Sunday.”
You thank him again as he grumbles that it’s nothing. He wishes you good luck, and when the line goes silent, you finally meet San’s gaze again.
“All sorted out,” you tell him, offering him a nod. “Let me just close the diner, and then we can go.”
He nods, the ghost of a smile playing on his lips. He observes you as you do so, quickly closing the diner like you’ve done about a hundred times before, though this time you’re far more excited to go. You grab a plastic bag to put away the bloody swabs, and though he groans in pain, San gets up to help you clean the blood that stained the cheap leather of the booth.
Soon enough, you’re ready to go, and you walk outside with the plastic bag in one hand and your backpack on your shoulders as San chuckles, looking down at himself.
“Do you have a shirt for me?” he asks as he follows you out.
You lock the door behind you before glancing at him. He’s quite the sight, naked from the waist up and bandaged like he is, and you can’t help the small chuckle you let out as you glance towards your car, that’s luckily parked right in front.
Though it’s a deadbeat car, you trust it enough to know it’ll make the trip to your uncle’s cabin, even in the middle of the night.
“My ex left some sweaters on the back seat,” you admit as you unlock your car doors and open the trunk to put your backpack and the plastic bag in there. There’s no chance in hell you’ll leave a plastic bag full of bloody swabs near your work.
You see San nod from the periphery of your vision, and then he’s opening the door to the backseat. “Your ex, huh?” he mutters as he grabs a sweater you used to love wearing and that you haven’t convinced yourself to give back to Hyunmin.
He carefully puts it on, and you’re pretty sure just the motion is going to make blood seep through the bandage. Somehow, you don’t care that it might stain Hyunmin’s sweater.
Hyunmin was a cheater, and even though you never really loved him, it took you months before you found the strength to break up with him. Needless to say, he doesn’t deserve his clothes back.
“Yeah,” you flatly say as you move towards the driver’s seat. You sit, and San follows you, naturally, as if you’ve done it a thousand times before.
As you turn the keys in the engine, San asks, “Have you dated a lot?”
You bristle at the question, shooting him an embarrassed look. “Have you?”
“No,” he replies, features fully serious.
You purse your lips, focusing on the road as you start driving. You need to put gas in the car if you want to get to your uncle’s cabin, so you make your way towards the closest one. It takes you a moment before you register how San has stiffened next to you.
“Can we…” he trails off, and he sinks in the seat, trying to hide. “I can’t be seen here.”
You immediately press on the accelerator, and your car speeds down the street as you pass in front of the gas station. You glance at San only when you’re stopped at a red light. He’s pulled the hood of the sweater over his features, and he’s doing his best to hide.
“Where can we stop?” you ask.
“Next town over,” he answers. “I just can’t be seen in Bangtan territory.”
Right. You have no knowledge of how the gangs have divided your city, but you’re not surprised Bangtan has this part of town. It’s the industrial area, and you assume there’s a lot of money to be made around here.
“Sounds good,” you gently say, and then you’re driving again, the light turning green, allowing you to speed away into the night.
You drive silently all the way to the next town, watching your city disappear to be replaced by trees until buildings reappear. San is looking outside the window, and you can’t help but wonder how he’s been doing, truly. How he managed to get injured like he is right now, and mostly, if his dreams of running away still occupy his thoughts.
He had begged you, the evening you had broken up with him. Told you he’d make enough money to be able to move with you across the country and build yourself a nice little life over there. You had wanted to believe him for so long, until your parents had opened your eyes on just how he was trying to make money.
“Do you need anything?” you ask as you finally reach the gas station, pulling into the driveway. You park next to a pump, turning to face him only to find him already watching you.
“I don’t have money to pay for food,” he admits. He shuts his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose. “I lost my wallet in the… altercation.”
You gently put a hand on his forearm. “Hey, my treat. We have to eat.”
He inhales deeply, letting out the breath slowly, before he nods. “Alright. I owe you.”
You reckon he’ll owe you for a lot more than just food at a gas station, but you choose not to say it. Not when you feel like someone’s watching over your shoulder, watching you drive away in the night with the person they are looking for.
You know it’s paranoia. No one followed you out of the city and into this town. It just feels too strange to have him here, with you. In your car, on the way to your uncle’s cabin, as if eight years have gone out the window. As if you can still be young and innocent.
It’s stupid, because you can’t. Time has changed him; time has changed you. And in just a few years you’ll be a doctor, and you’ll finally get out of this hellhole of a city, of its dangerous streets.
Of its equally dangerous man, that you know could probably pull you back in with one of his many well-crafted lies, one of the dreams he weaved expertly, whispering it into your ear.
You take a deep breath before getting out of the car. You go into the station, grab snacks for the next few days and then head to the counter. The guy behind nods as you approach, and you pay for the food and for gas before wishing him a good night and returning outside. San is still squatting in the car, clearly trying to hide, and you put the food on the backseat before putting gas in.
You watch his profile as you put gas in the car. Back when you were dating, his features weren’t as sharp, as glass-cutting as they now are. He used to sport a rounder face, but today you wonder if you’d get a papercut on his jaw. You wouldn’t even be surprised.
When you’re done with gas, you sit back next to him, and you quickly bring the engine back to life before pulling out in the street. As soon as you exit the city, darkness falls on the two of you, tall trees standing on the two sides of the road again. San doesn’t speak much, and it doesn’t take you long to realize he’s dozing off next to you.
“Hey, everything okay?” you ask, suddenly worried that he might have lost too much blood. Which, you reckon, you should have thought about earlier.
He sighs, glancing towards you. “Just tired.”
“Don’t…” you trail off. “Don’t fall asleep.”
He chuckles. “You’re afraid I’m going to die on you?”
“Choi San,” you warn. “Don’t you dare say stuff like that.”
He smiles, but you reckon he’s a little pale. Or at least you think he is, in the silver light of the moon up above. “I think I’m fine. Just…” He offers you a weak smile, though you’ve returned your attention on the winding road. “Just exhausted. I haven’t slept in three days.”
Worry clutches your heart, and you nibble at some dry skin on your bottom lip. “What’s been going on?”
He slightly shrugs. “I can’t tell you. I don’t want to put you in danger…”
“Am I not already in danger by just helping you?”
The silence is telling enough. And it remains for a while until San finally speaks.
“I was in a gunfight a week ago. Accidentally shot the youngest member of the other gang. He didn’t make it, and the gang has put a bounty on my head. Ateez took my gun and told me to run; I laughed in their face and said I wasn’t a coward. Then I got attacked by two guys with knives earlier, and I made it to the diner because I had nowhere else to go.”
Now the silence is deafening, heavy, and you think you’ve altogether stopped breathing. You’re struck with an image of San in the summer sun, smiling wide as he put a flower behind your ear, claiming you were the most beautiful girl he had ever met. The contrast with who he is now – a product of night, shrouded in darkness with no hint of that smile on his lips – is stark. And you wonder when’s the last time he has seen the sun, when’s the last time his life wasn’t violence like this.
When you say nothing, he scoffs, resting his head against the window as if it’d allow him to escape. Because clearly he wants to escape – he’s just told you that he’s killed someone after all.
And you don’t know what to say. Don’t know how to react to someone confessing murder. All you can do is stare at the street ahead, hoping you won’t end up in a gunfight with San. Because where would that lead you, other than in the dramatics of death?
You don’t speak for the rest of the ride. You don’t think he sleeps either, and dawn is clinging to the far horizon when you get to your uncle’s cabin, in a secluded forest that seems straight out of a fairytale. Instead of bringing you awe like it usually does, the sight of it makes you think of all the murder mysteries you had been obsessed with when you were younger, before you realized how horrible the real world truly is.
Neither of you move, as you turn off the engine of the car, and you fall into even more of a tensed silence, though this time you can hear the chirping of the early birds. It’s peaceful, so peaceful you can barely even grasp how tangible the presence of San is next to you. The presence of his actions too, looming between the two of you like a sword of Damocles.
You move first. Putting a hand on the knob, hoping to escape the heaviness into the dawn. San speaks before you can though, and your heart stops in your chest.
“I never meant for him to get hurt,” he murmurs, and you think he’s speaking to himself more than to you. “Everything went too fast, my gun was in my hand and I just… in situations like these, you don’t have time to think.” He leans his head against the headrest, eyes closing. “All I can picture since it’s happened is him falling and blood. Like a fucking blossoming rose, all around him.” He rests his closed fist on his forehead, rubbing it hard. “I haven’t been able to sleep; I’ve been sick every time I’ve tried to eat…”
“San,” you interrupt as you break and break for him. Because this is the San you know. This is the young boy that just wanted to escape and live in a better world. You can almost taste his remorse, taste his regret and shame. It’s poisonous, treacherous, a slippery slope that can’t lead anywhere good. “Let’s get you in. I want to get that cut on your ribs checked.”
He falls silent, and for a moment you feel guilty. Because what if he had more to say? You don’t even think you would have been able to listen. You need the escape, and you know he’ll permit it. Because the man next to you is a broken man, a fracture of what he could have been.
You step out of the car, blinking away tears – from the anxiety, from the exhaustion, and perhaps even from the pain you feel for him. He follows you, wincing as he swings his legs out of the car. He stumbles a little as he stands, but soon enough, he grows steady on his feet, and his attention moves to you. You climb the stairs of the cabin, lifting the rug to find the small trap that leads to the spare key. The padlock is rusted, but it stands strong as you put in the code, and a click is heard when you pull on it.
A few seconds later, you’ve unlocked the front door, pushing it open to reveal the cabin as you remember it. Not a single item is out of place, though dust covers everything, a clear indication that no one has been here in years. You let San in, before going back to the car to get the food you bought, bringing it in and putting it in the fridge. Three full gas canisters hide under the counter, and you sigh in relief – you’ll be able to get the generator on for some electricity.
You motion to the kitchen table. “Have a seat,” you tell San, who somehow looks like a lost puppy. “I’ll get the first aid kit.”
He nods, remaining silent, eyes downcast. You only move when he’s seated, heading to the bathroom area of the cabin, where you startle a spider that almost makes you scream out loud. You keep it in, heart beating out of your chest as you get the kit before moving back into the main area.
San is leaning against the chair, eyes closed. He senses you approaching, and one of his eyes cracks open to watch you carefully, a little like he did earlier, at the diner. It looks so similar to how he used to look at you, when you joined him at the field, that you stop in your tracks, heart squeezing once again.
You don’t like the way Choi San is making you feel, that’s for sure.
“Take off the sweater,” you tell him, putting the kit down on the table. You put some clean linen next to it, to put what you need over it, before washing your hands with the disinfectant you find in the kit. You put latex gloves on after, and then you fish wire and a surgical needle from the first aid kit that you carefully put down on the linen once you’ve torn the packages open.
As you were doing all of that, San took off the shirt, struggling a little as it meant he had to lift his right arm, which pulled at the skin of his ribs, where the cut clearly has started bleeding again. Though, if you’re honest to yourself, you’re pretty sure he’s been bleeding this whole time, even though it probably was just some fine rivulets.
Indeed, the cut isn’t all that deep, you remind yourself. Mostly because you don’t want to even think about the consequences of the blood loss. As long as he stays awake, you figure he’s fine – he would have lost consciousness a while ago if he was losing a lot of blood.
You remove the bandage you had carefully put in place earlier, wincing at the sight of the blood that’s seeped through it. San keeps his eyes close, lets you clean his skin again in peace, and you feel sick to your stomach as you realize you don’t have any anesthetics for the pain that stitching him up will cause. Indeed, the pocket in which your uncle usually leaves the lidocaine is empty, and you remember that he’s had to use it for your dad when he accidentally cut himself with a machete last summer.
“Huh,” you let out. You chuckle nervously. “It’s going to hurt like a bitch.”
His eyes narrow, and he clenches his jaw. “Don’t worry about it.”
You worry at your bottom lip, holding his gaze as you gauge if he’s serious. When his gaze doesn’t falter, you offer him a curt nod, before getting the wire and needle ready under his watchful eyes.
You hand him some linen. “To bite on,” you explain as he just cocks an eyebrow quizzically. That makes his gaze widen a little as if he’s just now realizing how serious you were about it hurting, but he takes it nonetheless.
You think about the theory of how to stitch someone up. It was in your previous block – you watched hours of videos of it in an attempt to desensitize yourself to it. You don’t think it compares to the real thing, but at least you’re somehow confident of what you’re doing when you start.
San startles, groaning in pain, and you offer him a glare. “Don’t move, or it’ll be worse.”
A drop of sweat rolls down his temple, but he still nods. Even as you keep on stitching him, he remains as still as he physically can, though you don’t think he even notices how he’s trembling. Or maybe that’s you – you don’t even know.
Somehow, you make it through the whole thing. You think San might have passed out at some point, but he’s wide awake when you finish the knot to keep the stitches in place, looking up to meet his face.
He’s panting and tears of pain wet his waterline. He blinks them away as he takes the linen out of his mouth, dropping it on the table.
“Fuck,” he curses.
“Let me…” you trail off, mind set on getting something to at least help him cool off, because he’s clearly been heating up.
You grab a washcloth and a small bucket, and head outside to walk down to the lake. You fill the bucket halfway, and take a few seconds to observe the calm surrounding you, hoping that it can ease the nerves rolling inside your heart like dark clouds do on the horizon whenever a storm is coming. You feel it in your bones – you have a murderer in your uncle’s cabin.
You have to keep that in mind. To not let Choi San in like you did when you were a young impressionable teenager.
You sigh, closing your eyes to breathe in the fresh morning air. The sun is peaking over the horizon now, and you bask in its hesitant rays for all of twenty seconds before you convince yourself to go back in. You’ve got a patient to take care of, after all.
San hasn’t moved an inch while you were outside. The only indication that he hasn’t died on you is the groan he lets out as you put the wet washcloth on his forehead. You tap his cheek gently, as if to say, ‘suck it up, I’m just trying to take care of you’.
Which is exactly what you’re doing, isn’t it?
You watch him carefully for a few seconds before tapping his shoulder this time around.
“There’s a bed,” you remind him. “You’d be better passing out in a bed.”
He groans again, cracking an eye open. “I’ve just been repeatedly poked with a needle,” he drawls. “Give me a second.”
It makes you laugh. Because of the nerves, maybe. You’re not quite sure. All you know is that you’re laughing, and San opens his second eye to look at you as if you’re crazy. And you laugh for longer than you should – you’re exhausted after all, especially considering you haven’t slept since yesterday morning. So far, adrenaline has been keeping you going, but you can tell you’re about to crash.
“Sorry,” you apologize once you calm down. “This has just been…”
“A lot,” San finishes for you. “I know.”
You nod once before glancing at the doorway to the bedroom. It has no door, as your uncle and your dad usually come here alone and they don’t mind sharing a bed. It makes you realize that you’ll have to share it with San, which you reckon you should have thought about before. Because there’s no way in hell you’ll share a bed with him, especially after he’s told you why he’s being hunted.
There’s always the option of going into town later today so you can get a sleeping bag and floor mat to sleep on. But you’re far too tired right now to even consider driving, so you motion to the bed once again.
“Stick to your side; I’ll stick to mine.”
He smirks though he’s extremely pale. A lot paler than he was before, and you swallow a sudden lump in your throat. Because what if he dies? What are you supposed to do with him if he dies?
“You’ll have to help me to get to the bed ‘cause I don’t think I can move,” he says once his smirk dies. He curses under his breath. “I’m so pathetic.”
You put your hand on his shoulder again, reassuringly, eyes holding his. “Hey, it’s okay. You’re hurt. Everyone is pathetic when they’re hurt.”
He gulps before nodding once. It takes everything in you not to offer him more comfort because you feel like the slope would tilt forwards far too much if you did. Instead, you help him to get up, wincing as he puts most of his weight on you, clutching his side with one hand. You’re infinitely aware of how his skin is sticky with sweat, but you ignore it as you slowly walk to the bedroom.
You can only hope the stitches will hold because you don’t think he’d be able to withstand another round of them.
You finally reach the bedroom and help San sit on the side of the bed. He sighs, eyes shut tightly, and he doesn’t move for a time. When he does, it’s to stiffly lie down on his side.
“You might want to sleep on your back,” you inform him. “I don’t want you rolling around and messing up the stitches.”
He glares at you, though he looks like he’s already half out of it. You hold his gaze until he gives in, turning on his back with a deep sigh. You arrange pillows around him to make sure he’s not moving, and by the time you’re done, his breathing has already evened out.
For a moment, you just watch him sleep. You see him in the field where young love blossomed like a trillion wildflowers. You can almost breathe his pollen again, can almost feel the softness of his skin under your fingertips.
But he’s not what he used to be. Back then, you felt like you had discovered something new. Love, infatuation, affection, and desire, all in the form of the man sleeping next to you. You’d used to kiss, dance and sing to a song only your souls knew, and now you don’t think you recognize him anymore.
As much as he is him, he’s also but just the ghost of what he was. He’s trouble, danger in the shape of innocence, and you recall his words from earlier. You recall the despair, the regret and sorrow that haunted him after he told you. You can’t let him get to your head.
You reckon sleep might help. Though you’re afraid he’s going to waste away in his sleep, so you set up an alarm every hour, before climbing on the other side of the bed. You don’t pull on the covers, mostly because the cabin is warm, and you can imagine it’s just going to get hotter as the sun goes up and the summer heat slowly sizzles into the countryside.
It’s a good thing you put an alarm on. Because when it rings an hour later, you don’t even remember falling asleep. You’re pretty sure the second your head touched the mattress, you were out to the land of dreams. You groan, mostly because you’ve got a slight headache, but you power through it to make sure San is still breathing.
When you see his chest moving up and down steadily, you let yourself fall back asleep.
This goes on for the whole morning, and you only force yourself to stay up when your phone shows that it’s passed noon. As you had suspected earlier, the cabin has gotten extremely warm, so you force yourself out of bed to open all the windows, and then you use the washcloth from earlier to gently wash San’s face of the sweat.
He doesn’t even flinch in his sleep, but he’s still breathing and for now, that’s all that matters.
You head back to the main room, grabbing a pack of chips from where you had left the food earlier, and then you move outside to sit by the lake. Mostly because you need to put distance between you and San, but also just because the childhood memories of this place have you in their hold, and they’ve decided to make you miss the times when you’d swim around with your cousins before both of them had moved out of town.
One day, it’s going to be you too. You already know where you’d go – on the other side of the country, as far away from here as possible. You just want to forget all about the place you grew up in, and you know that, in a few years, you will have forgotten.
Though you’re pretty sure a certain piercing gaze will haunt you forever, especially after the events of today.
When another hour passes, you head back inside, putting the empty bag of chips in the trash before you check up on San. He’s still asleep, but this time he doesn’t look as pale as he did earlier. You assume it’s going to take him a while before he wakes, so you head to the nearest town to grab more food. Mostly to busy yourself, but also just because you know San will need a place to hide for a lot longer than just the weekend. Might as well make sure you have enough for him to survive a couple of days. In town, you also stop to eat at a small café on a small terrasse in the shade of a few trees, and then you grab the food you think you might need at the grocery store.
It’s the middle of the afternoon when you get back, realizing that you forgot to buy a floor mat. As you spy San, who hasn’t moved an inch since he’s fallen asleep, you figure that sleeping next to him tonight should be fine.
As long as his presence in your vicinity doesn’t drag you down memory lane again.
You bought some meat in town, so you head to the little shack outside where the generator is hiding. There’s a gas canister right next to it – also full – and you busy yourself for the next twenty minutes trying to figure out how to get it started. When it finally rumbles to life, you head back inside to put the meat in the fridge, which has finally come to life.
When you hear a groan, you quickly jog to San’s side, fully expecting to find him awake. Surprisingly, he’s still asleep, and you stay next to him for a full minute, thinking he might groan again, though he remains entirely silent.
If it wasn’t for his chest moving up and down steadily, you’d believe him to be dead. But now that a few hours have passed, you’re pretty positive he’ll make it, though he’s probably going to sleep through the day and possibly through the next one too.
Which leaves you in the most peaceful atmosphere you’ve been in for a while, with the opportunity to study as you listen to the rush of wind in the leaves of the tall trees surrounding the cabin. You sit outside, this time near the fireplace, and you study until your stomach grumbles, indicating that it is time for you to cook.
You cook the meat you’ve bought on the grill outside, feeling thankful that your dad once showed you how to use it. You go back in to grab a bottle of water before you eat, and you’re bent in the fridge when you hear San moan again, and this time it sounds like he’s saying something.
You gently close the fridge, making your way to the bedroom. San hasn’t moved, but his features are creased in a frown, and sweat is rolling down his temples. You wet the washcloth, gently wipe his face, and you’re about to leave when he moans again.
It takes you far too long to realize he’s apologizing. What for, you can’t really tell. Though you remember his troubled eyes this morning, you remember his story, and your heart breaks in your chest.
He’s haunted. You think the ghost of the dead guy will probably haunt him for the rest of his life. And suddenly you’re struck thinking maybe, maybe if you hadn’t broken his heart all those years ago, you could have saved him from the gang.
Maybe you could have opened his eyes.
You still remember the break-up like it was yesterday. You remember the rain, him leaving without once looking back, but mostly you remember the words you had uttered. Ghosts of their own, that feel more real now that he’s come back into your life.
*****
                “You’re going to get hurt!” you yelled. “You’ll get hurt, San. What are you thinking?”
He scoffed, shaking his head, and little droplets of water shot all around him. “I’ll be careful. We need the money if we ever want to make it out of this shit town.”
You blinked away tears, folding your arms on your chest as you tried to keep your heart from breaking. Though you reckoned it had broken when your parents had told you what they knew about San. When your father had mentioned Ateez, and you’d truly realized what it meant that he was part of a gang. San, your sweet, soft, and bubbly San, in a gang that had murdered someone just a few weeks ago.
“But that’s not a way to make money!” you screamed, hoping he’d understand. Hoping he’d hear the truth in your words, hoping he’d change his mind before it was too late. “Why don’t you get a part-time job, like me? Then we can go to college and get jobs in a nice city on the other side of the country!”
“It won’t work,” he drawled, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I want to be out soon, not in a few years. I barely even have a roof over my head, Y/n…”
“Come live with me,” you choked out around the lump in your throat.
You both knew fully well that your parents would never let him come near you again.
“I can’t.”
You cried, hiding your face in your hands. You cried thinking of the field where you usually met, thinking about its beauty now fading into ugliness. You thought about the wildflowers, withered and dead as autumn had come. You thought about how you were convinced you knew what love was.
“What’s the point?” you asked then. “What’s the point of putting your life in danger? Life isn’t some sort of a game, Choi San. Worse, what if you have to hurt someone? Do you think you’ll be able to pull the trigger?”
He clenched his jaw, hard. “Do me a favour and stop asking questions.”
You closed your eyes, feeling sick to your stomach. Because it couldn’t be. Not San. Not your smiley San, who’d always weave dandelions crowns with you, as you’d pretend you were a queen and a king of that field you had found. An empty field, an abandoned farmland that was just yours and his to explore. That had been home to your first kiss, and all of those that had followed.
Now you wondered why he had always wanted to meet there in the first place. Was he trying to hide?
"If you love me, you’ll get out while you still can,” you said as your tears suddenly ended.
There was a weird sense of clarity in you, suddenly. You remembered the day you had fallen in love, the moment you had first kissed. You remembered the stars in the sky above, the meteors falling for the two of you. You remembered the music on the radio you had brought. Some Arctic Monkeys song about heartbreak, about moving on and failing to do so. As a joke, when it had ended, you had asked San, “Do you think love is a laserquest?”
His answer had been cryptic, mysterious, things that had made you believe he was the one. “Maybe. Maybe it is, and I’ve shot you in the back while you weren’t looking. Maybe I’m that annoying player that won’t leave you alone.”
“I’ll never find you annoying,” you had replied.
But today, watching the rain rolling down his face like tears, you realized that maybe, maybe you should have seen the warning behind his words. Because this betrayal, it came like he had shot you in the back – you didn’t think you’d be able to recover from it.
The past dwindled away as San spoke again, reminding you of the question you had just asked him. “It’s not a question of love, Y/n. I do love you. But it’s a question of survival.”
You laughed, coldly, and then you said, “You know what? You’re full of shit.”
“Alright then. Do me a favour and tell me to go away.”
“Go away.”
A long silence had lingered between you, voided of that summer warmth that had you falling in love. Like a piece was missing from the contract of you loving him, and him loving you. And you realized, maybe you had never really loved each other anyway.
He nodded once when you didn’t say anything else, before turning away. And you watched him walk away. You watched him thinking he was going to turn around and tell you this was just some twisted joke, the prank of the century. Only, he never turned around, and he disappeared behind the bend in the road, never to be seen again, cracking your heart open and splitting it in half.
*****
                The sun sets, like an ending to a dream. You’ve always liked the end – you think if you could choose, you’d want to witness the end of the world. The nostalgia, the beauty of endings… it’s something you understand now that you didn’t understand when you were younger. Because you and San ending, it had led to you focusing on high school. It had allowed you to get in the good college in town, with a scholarship that covered most of your expenses before you made it to med school.
There’s beauty in knowing losing San has allowed you to live out your dreams.
There’s less beauty in knowing that San has been sleeping for almost thirty-four hours now. Last time you checked, he was still breathing, but you’re starting to be afraid that he just won’t wake up. It’s irrational, you know – after the blood loss it makes sense that he’d sleep for a long time.
But it leaves you with far too much time on your hands to think and revisit the past. You’ve been doing it all day – thinking about the fight with your parents that had led to your break-up with San, thinking about that damn rainy evening he had walked away without once looking back. Thinking of the field, of sunshine and star falls and the sweetness of a first kiss. Thinking that, then, you thought you knew what it was like to be in love.
You haven’t dated anyone serious since San. Hyunmin was a distraction for a while, but you never were into it. Not like you were into San. There’s a guy in your class though, that you’ve been chatting with for a couple of weeks. He’s sweet, innocent, and the perspective of a future seems less scary with him around. He’s mentioned he wants to move across the country once too, and since then you’ve started talking more, the similarity of your wishes drawing you closer.
All day today you’ve been feeling like you’re slowly drifting away though. Slowly getting entrapped in a web you’re not sure you’ll be able to walk away from.
You decide to swim, seeking the fresh clarity only cold water can bring to you. You don’t have a swimsuit with you, but since San is half-dead in bed you figure it doesn’t matter. So you strip naked, feet making squelching sounds in the mud by the lake side as you step in the water.
The sharp cold has you holding your breath, but you don’t slow down. You’ve never slowed down in life – when you make a decision, you bring it to completion. And you’ve decided to swim, so swim you will.
The warm summer evening breeze catches in your hair as you take another step forward, the water now lapping at your thighs. You dread the moment it’ll hit your core, knowing that that’s the worst part, but you breathe in deeply, moving forward. Because there’s no moving backwards now.
When the water hits, your eyes flutter shut, and you hold in the wince that threatens to escape the mask of calm your features hold. Soon enough, you get deep enough to swim, and the movements bring welcomed warmth to your limbs as you flop on your back, tits out of the water.
Your uncle’s cabin is the only cabin in a fifteen miles radius. You know you won’t be interrupted, and so you let the water cool you down. Calm you down, hold you in its fresh embrace. It undoes knots in your back that have formed from worrying about San, but also from worrying about college.
From worrying that you will never be enough. You think it’s a normal anxiety to have, something most people must feel as they go through the trials of college, not knowing what to expect on the other side. A nice career, perhaps, though the perspective of failure is there too, looming over the horizon.
You sigh, and your eyes flutter open as your legs move mindlessly under you, making sure to keep you afloat. You look up at the azury ceiling over your head, so far away as it slowly turns gold. Out of touch, out of grasp. You watch the fluffy white clouds that are lazily crossing the sky, turning fiery in the sunset, as if they have all the time in the universe. And you wish you were them, up above. With nothing to worry about.
Without a Choi San on the brink of death lying about twenty meters away from you. You sigh, and you turn in the water, with the purpose of swimming again. Though your gaze catches movement by the cabin, and your head snaps towards it to see none other than the supposedly Choi San, standing on the deck with a hand clutching his side.
You shriek, looking down at yourself. Most of you is hidden, but you don’t know how long he’s been there. Don’t know if he’s seen you naked as you looked up at the sky.
He doesn’t move, only watches you where you’re swimming.
“Can you please look away?” you say from the water, and he has the nerves to lean against the railing, eyes still boring into where you’re swimming. You think his gaze might be so hot the water will boil, and it startles you into action.
You start walking out of the water, pointing towards the door. “You shouldn’t be up, Choi San.”
“I feel fine,” he says as you take another step forward, and the water barely hides your tits anymore.
That makes him turn around, as he offers you a little bit of privacy. You’re quick to get out of the water and wrap yourself in the towel you brought outside, and then you collect your clothes to head back to the cabin. San dutifully keeps his gaze away until you’re climbing the three steps leading to the deck, and it’s then that his eyes trail to you again.
“Thank you for the water,” he says, offering you a tentative smile.
You left water by his bedside earlier today hoping it will coax him to wake up. You’re strangely surprised that it worked.
“You should go sit inside,” you scold him, only half-heartedly. Because seeing him up and about reassures you, somehow.
He cocks an eyebrow, a smile playing at the corner of his lips. “The weather is beautiful, I’d rather sit outside.”
You roll your eyes, but you do let him walk down the stairs to sit by the fireplace while you go inside to take a quick shower and get dressed. You decide to make some food for him, though you know he shouldn’t eat too much right now, after not having eaten for a while. He has to start slowly, and you don’t even know if he’s hungry anyway.
You settle for preparing a cup of chicken noodle soup for him, so at least it isn’t too heavy on his stomach. You bring it to him outside, as he’s just calmly observing the lake.
“Thank you,” he says, voice small as he grabs the cup and the spoon.
You sit next to him, trying not to watch him eat too much. His hair is sticking to his forehead in some places, and you have the distinct thought that he’ll probably need to shower. At least there’s plenty of rain water in the bucket for the water pump.
“What have you been doing while I was out?” he asks.
You spare him a quick glance before losing your gaze in the rocks of the fireplace. “I’ve studied. Checked up on you. Not much honestly.”
He chuckles. “I’d argue that caring for someone is a lot.”
You glance at him, cheeks burning at the sight of his teasing smile. “Not really.”
He chuckles again, but doesn’t say anything more before eating another spoonful of soup. He’s almost done with the cup when he actually does speak, asking, “How long was I out?”
“A day and a half,” you answer. “I’m actually surprised you haven’t slept longer.”
You can hear the smirk in his voice when he says, “I’m made of tough stuff.”
You snicker, but you don’t say anything, just focusing on where you’re kicking at the dirt. When he’s done with the cup, he puts it down on the ground next to him, before sitting back in the chair. He stretches out his legs in front of him, sighing deeply.
“I still feel out of it,” he admits, and you meet his gaze.
“You can sleep more,” you tell him. “I’d just like to check on the…”
You don’t even have to finish your sentence. He immediately turns so his side is to you, and you have to admit you’ve done a perfectly good job with the stitches.
“So?” he asks.
“All good.” You pat his shoulder. “You can sit comfortably again.”
He’s smiling when he does so, and his gaze wanders to the lake once again. “I’m sorry I…” he trails off, and he chuckles softly. “I’m sorry I interrupted your little swim earlier.”
You have the decency to flush furiously red, and you shrug your shoulders. “No worries, I wasn’t expecting you to be up so soon.”
You fall in a comfortable silence, surprisingly so. Rare stars dot the darkening sky up above, and all that can be heard for a moment is the flap of a bird’s wing as it moves from branches to branches in the trees by the water. The breeze picks up as you watch the little bird, and the leaves dance, loudly so. You’d think it’d be deafening in the silence between you and him, but it’s strangely reassuring.
As if, after all, you found your way back to the field. Only this time it’s completely different, as if decades have passed between you. At least, that’s how it feels like.
You notice San has dozed off in the chair next to you when you were about to speak to him again. To ask him how he’s truly been, in the years between then and now. Hoping to avoid mentioning what led to him coming to you, yesterday, a whole eternity ago.
You watch him, heart aching in your chest. Aching to reach out and brush his hair away from his forehead, aching to heal the cut on his cheek with a gentle swipe of your fingers. If only medicine was so simple…
It seems the peace of the early evening wasn’t going to stay around, because you notice dark clouds rolling in the distance, streaks of lightning cutting through them. Slowly inching closer, menacingly so, and you gently wake San up with your hand on his wrist.
He startles awake, hand shooting to his waist, finding nothing there. It startles you, and you both stare at each other for a moment until you realize what he was looking for.
His gun.
“San…” you let out and he runs his hand through his hair, eyes falling shut as he breathes in and out raggedly.
“Sorry.”
“San, I’m so sorry.”
He doesn’t open his eyes, refuses to let you see the vulnerability you glimpsed behind his piercing gaze. Refuses to acknowledge that he’s terrified, deadly so.
“Let’s go in,” you tell him, softly. Because you’re afraid you’ll spook him, when he’s clearly been living in fear long enough. “There’s a storm coming.”
He nods, carefully getting up without sparing you a glance. He heads inside, hand clutching his side again, while you pick up the chicken noodle soup cup before following him.
You’ve refilled the generator before swimming, so you know it’s been charging the batteries for a while now. You don’t fear ending up in the dark with San, and there’s also always the option of using the lamps and candles your uncle always leave here in case of an emergency.
The storm doesn’t roll in until a little later. You’ve forced San to put a shirt on – mostly so your eyes would stop betraying you, dropping to his toned body whenever he talked to you. You’re currently sitting on the couch, and as the rain starts, hammering against the window behind you, you pull your legs to your chest, wrapping your arms comfortably around them.
“How hard do the storms hit here?” he asks, eyes trailed to the world outside.
You follow his gaze, right as wind picks up to make the water hit the window even harder, creating a cacophony that forces you to speak louder for him to hear. “Pretty hard.”
He nods, and he glances once at you. “Fun.”
You smile, because you’ve always liked storms. Have always found them electrifying, energizing.
“Do you remember when we used to go to the field when it rained?” San asks, taking you by surprise.
Making your heart clench so hard in your chest you have to take a wobbly breath in. If he notices he doesn’t say.
“We were always in that field,” you remind him. “No matter the weather.”
It’s his turn to smile fondly. “It got so pretty with all the wildflowers. But you were afraid of the bees.”
“Bees are scary!” You laugh, and he echoes it with a soft chuckle. “You’re the one that almost pissed yourself when we saw the rat.”
That makes him laugh, and he winces in pain clutching his side. “Gosh, is it supposed to keep on hurting like this?”
It douses your enthusiasm and your smile falls. “Well, it was a solid cut.”
His eyes get lost in the void as he takes on a wistful expression. “I’m surprised I didn’t die.”
You gulp, watching his profile carefully. “It wasn’t deep enough for that…” you trail off, even though you spent most of yesterday and today being convinced he’d die. “At least they didn’t… stab you.”
“They would have if… Wooyoung didn’t shoot.”
You remain silent, not knowing what to reply to that. San interprets that as discomfort, and he quickly adds, “He didn’t shoot them. Just… in the air. It attracted the police.”
You remember the cars zooming past the diner a lifetime ago, and you nod your head. “I heard.”
He seems surprised, and his gaze finally finds yours again. “You did?”
“Yeah.” You chuckle, a little awkwardly. “I hear a lot of shootings, in the diner.”
His eyes widen, mouth falling open cutely. “You do?”
You don’t know what he expected. The diner is right between Ateez and Bangtan territory, and as much as it is a safe space, it is also near enough to dangerous grounds, and you’ve heard plenty of shooting in your time working there.
“Always,” you admit. “It can get scary sometimes… but you also get used to it.”
He looks sad. Infinitely so, like a lost puppy. That’s when the first thunder hits, so sharp and sudden you startle. Not quite as much as San, who ducks, wincing in pain as he clutches his side.
“Shit,” he curses. “Sorry.”
“What’s wrong?” you ask, in time with another thunderclap, though this time it’s more of a rumble.
You watch his chest as he breathes in and out quickly. “Just… fuck.”
Now, concern grows in you, and you gently put a hand on his shoulder. “San…”
He meets your gaze, and there’s so much white in his it makes you think of a terrified prey. And then it clicks: he thought it was a gunshot.
“Hey,” you quickly say, moving closer to him. You’re on the side of the stitches, so you still keep a safe distance between the two of you, but you grab his hand nonetheless. “You’re okay.”
“Fuck,” is all he’s able to say.
“I promise, no one’s going to find you here.”
He remains silent this time around, eyes still boring into yours. You take that as a cue to continue, because you don’t want him to panic. You want his thoughts here, with you, and not miles away in a city he should have escaped from years ago. You wish he had, knowing the atrocities that he would have avoided.
Would he have escaped with you, had you stayed just a little longer?
“I killed someone,” he says, and you balk at the silver lining his gaze. “I fucking killed him.”
You don’t know how to help. All you can think to do is cup his cheek, right as he starts breathing even faster. “Breathe with me, San.”
He doesn’t say anything, but his eyes fall to your mouth. You make a good show of inhaling slowly, before exhaling even slower. It takes him a moment but he eventually follows your lead.
It breaks when there’s another sharp thunderclap, and he flinches, eyes shutting instinctively.
“Hey hey hey,” you say again, even more gentle, softer than before. You move even closer, and when a tear slips out of his closed eyes, you pull him into a hug, careful not to brush his side.
His head falls on your shoulder, and one of his arms wrap around your waist. A thunderclap later, he starts sobbing, fist balling the fabric of your shirt in his tight hold, and you let him do it. You let him hold onto you, hoping it’ll keep him here with you. Hoping it’ll keep him afloat during the storm that’s raging both outside and in his mind.
“It’s going to be okay,” you breathe, and you feel like you’re lying to him.
Because how can he ever be safe from the ghosts inside of his skull? The ghosts wandering the halls of him, tainting his soul with their presence?
“He’s never going to smile again,” San chokes out. “Everyone loved him. Even in Ateez… Jungkook was the best of us. The only one who had a shot at getting out of it.”
You don’t know how good he could have been, if he was a member of Bangtan. In your mind, you’d always seen Bangtan as the bad guys, mostly because they weren’t with San. Even when you had been struggling to evade that life, you’d still rooted for him.
It’s strange how you just realize that now, as you’re holding him while he breaks.
“You didn’t mean to kill him,” you remind San, still speaking with the calmest voice you can muster up. “You didn’t want to, San. You’re not a murderer.”
“I’m still a killer,” he says. He sounds angry, and you reckon he might be angry at himself. Might be consumed with his actions, dragged to hell before his time as his mind gets stuck replaying the events.
“Maybe,” you answer. “But,” you quickly add when he stiffens in your arms. “But you can spend the rest of your life making up for it. Repenting.”
He doesn’t respond right away, as he breaks some more, sobs rocking through him. You’ve never seen him like this, not even when you were younger and in love. It makes your gaze wet, yet you hold on strong for him. You keep your head held high, and you allow him to break in the safe haven that your arms represent.
Because to him, you’ve never been tainted. You’ve always been the ideal he was trying to pursue, albeit the wrong way.
“I don’t know how to repent,” he admits when he calms down. He turns his head, and his nose brushes along the skin of your neck, slightly tickling you. You ignore the feeling, especially as he adds, “Ateez… it’s all I’ve ever known.”
You run a hand on his back, soothingly. “It isn’t.”
Because there was you, too. There was the summer field and the twinkling stars and Artic Monkeys on the radio. There was the two of you, petal-soft kisses exchanged in the dead of night and in the brightness of day. There were rainy days, and then there was rain. There was him walking away, and you hate yourself then.
You wish you had stopped him that day, had kept him from going on to become what he’s become now. A person he clearly hates, someone that has a bounty on his head. Someone that doesn’t even believe they’re allowed redemption and you reckon you don’t even know if he is.
You only know that seeing him break is bending your will, the way the wind outside is bending the trees. All you can hope is that, like the tall trees, you won’t break.
*****
                The storm calmed down sometime around midnight. San ended up falling asleep on the couch, as you’d reassuringly ran your hand through his hair, trying to keep him with you. Though you think he’s been slipping through your fingers, into his demons.
You’ll find a way to bring him back. You have to. Turns out it comes faster than you think, as the electricity runs out and you busy yourself with lighting some candles throughout the main room. When you’re done, you put a blanket over him, and you almost let out a startled scream as his eyes shot open.
“Hello,” you say, resting a hand on your heart to tame the wild beats.
You’re about to move away, but he grabs your hand, forcing you to sit next to him. You don’t really resist, though you think you probably should. You’re weak – weaker still when he murmurs your name.
“San,” you whisper in return, and you’re aware your voice carries too much longing. Longing for a past when life’s atrocities hadn’t changed either of you yet.
“I’m so sorry,” he apologizes, and a tear rolls on his cheek.
You dry it, fingers lingering there. “It’s okay.”
“Angel…”
The nickname brings you back to laser quests and favours and warmth creeping up your stomach for the first time in your life.
“I’m no angel,” you breathe.
“You saved me.”
You hold his gaze. There’s something hiding behind his pupils. The need, to forget. You don’t think you have the ability to run his mind through amnesia, but still you brush his cheek again.
“You deserved saving.”
His eyes glaze once more, though this time no tears fall. “It’s hard to believe it.”
“Do you still believe love is a laser quest?” you ask him, out of the blue.
As if you’re a line straight of that Arctic Monkeys song you listened to the first time you kissed.
“Maybe,” he says, a parallel to that first time you had asked the question. “Maybe it is.”
You can’t resist. You lean down, and you press the gentlest kiss on his lips. His are dry, but the way he sighs with you against him is soft, for your heart and for your mind, and you kiss him again. He lets you lead, follows the dance of your lips, lets you run your hand through his sweaty hair.
Even if you shouldn’t. Even if you know everything you’re doing right now is a mistake, you still find yourself deepening the kiss, opening your lips to slip your tongue out, teasing his mouth. One of his hands finds your thigh, and he squeezes ever so slightly as his tongue finds yours, and you let out a breathy sound.
When you pull away, eyes fluttering open, you find San’s gaze. You think about the boy he was then, the girl you were then. You think about who you were, together. And when he says, “Please make me forget”, you lean again, capturing his mouth in a languid kiss.
For a reason unknown, the summer sky and falling stars pale in comparison to this kiss. Maybe because it holds longing, nostalgia. Hope that life would have turned out differently. For a moment, you picture what it would have been like, without Ateez. With you and him in the field, in your family house, in a car driving by the beach, windows down as the sun sets and you sing along to the radio, wind blowing in your hair.
You see a whole life there, with you and him marrying in the field, under the sun that had been the host of your first love. You imagine growing up by his side, attending college with him in the big city. You imagine how he would have become the owner of his own construction company, like his dad before him. You picture kids laughing, running around the house he would have built for you. You see Christmas light, late nights antics by the firelight.
You see it all, and you know you’ll never have any of it. But if you can have tonight, then you’ll grab it before it slips through your fingers. Before he walks away in the rain again, only to be a memory you cherish in the deepest corners of your heart.
“How?” you ask him when you pull away.
Mostly, you’re asking how to make him forget. But you’re also asking how it is that the feelings are still there, even stronger now, as if they’ve grown up with you, yet haven’t changed like you have. Like they are a constant of an ever-changing universe.
“Kiss me again,” he asks, begs, and you give in. You kiss him wildly, always making sure not to touch his side and the stitches.
You know sex would be a stupid idea, especially with the fresh stitches. But also because he’s barely had time to recover. But he doesn’t really give you a choice, pulling you on top of him until you’re straddling him.
You sit back on him for a second, eyes trailing to the spot where you know the stitches are. “This isn’t a good idea,” you whisper through the ragged breaths caused by the ministrations of his mouth on yours and of yours on his.
“I’m fine,” he says, and you know you shouldn’t believe him. But when he pulls you down again, large hand holding the nape of your neck firmly so you don’t escape, you want to believe him.
Want to believe the beauty of his lies, like you had when you were younger.
From where you’re perched, you can feel the start of his erection pressing against you, and you moan softly in the kiss, rolling your hips. His mouth falls open, and you capture his tongue, sucking on it once before you pull away, leaving hot kisses on his jaw.
“Sit on my face,” he says, and he sounds out of his mind. Crazed, a little like you too feel at the moment.
“What?”
“Can’t get hurt if you sit on my face, angel,” he explains, and then hisses when you suck a hickey on his neck.
You let him pull your shirt off, unclasping your bra yourself as you sit back on his lap. He cups your breasts, rolling your erect nipples between his thumbs and indexes. You moan again, grinding your hips into his, and he hisses once more.
“You want to taste me?” you ask, head throwing back as he pinches your nipples hard.
“I’d fuck you, but you’re the doctor. Can’t risk fucking up my stitches, huh?” he replies, voice low and husky.
Your core heats up, pussy clenching around nothing. This is a side of him you’ve never seen, though you spy desperation beneath it. Like he thinks he doesn’t have forever, when it comes to you.
He’s right. Because tomorrow, you’ll have to go back into town, into the hellscape you call home. What will be left of the two of you then?
So when he tugs at your pants, you give in and get up, taking off your pants and panties in one swift motion. You step out of them, blood heating up by the way he’s looking at you through half-lidded eyes, gaze burning on you.
You have half a thought that you could probably ride him instead of his face, but when you see his pink tongue darting out to wet his lips, making them glisten in the candlelight, you need to know what it’ll feel like against you.
So you straddle his face as he guides you down, large hands pushing on your thighs until your pussy is a hairsbreadth away from his lips. He blows on it, and your eyes shut with sensitivity. You clutch the cushion of the couch, hoping it’ll help steady you, but the moment his tongue flicks at your clit, you realize nothing will be able to steady you. Yet you still hold onto it, especially as he dives his tongue between your folds, lapping up your juice. He moans in contentment, before moving to your clit again. And his tongue is wicked down there, like it knows exactly what you like.
You grab a handful of his hair, grinding into his face. You’re pretty sure he’s chuckling down there, and then he unleashes himself. Sucking hard, alternating circling motions to teasing you with his teeth. You’d expect the latter to hurt, but the way he does it just makes you see stars, and your pussy clenches around nothing again.
San is deadly good with his mouth. Both with crafting lies and pulling moans out of you, and your thighs tighten against his face as he sucks particularly hard, before dipping his tongue inside of you. His nose brushes your clit, and then he forces you to properly sit on him.
The way his tongue moves inside of you, lapping up your juices while opening you up, has you on the brink of an orgasm in no time. Especially as he makes you grind again, holding you tight into place. When one of his hands moves from around your thigh to reach your clit, you cry out, head throwing back.
He’s quick to rub at your sensitive clit, and you grab one of your breasts, massaging it mindlessly before you pinch your nipple, hard, right in time with a skilled swipe of his tongue. Your orgasm meets you there, shaking through you as it explodes in a blinding flash of light. You moan, loudly, something that resembles his name, and he keeps you going, guides you through your high until you cringe with oversensitivity.
Only then does he let you climb off from his face. You stand on wobbly legs, before deciding to sit next to him, and you catch sight of the smirk on his lips. It makes you blush, right as you realize what you’ve just done.
When you realize what kind of sinful activity he’s dragged you in, this time around.
“Gosh,” is all you manage to say.
He chuckles, clearly proud with himself. “That felt good?”
You worry at your bottom lip, eyes going down to the tent in his pants. You want to pleasure him too, to take him in your mouth and make him feel good, but he stops you with a hand wrapped around your wrist.
“Don’t.”
You still and you meet his gaze with slightly-widened eyes. “Why not?”
His features turn somber, haunted, and the heat of the moment passes so quickly you think it might have been a figment of your imagination.
Were you really riding his face just a moment ago?
“Please just lay next to me,” he says, barely even a whisper.
You don’t know a lot of men that would choose cuddling over getting a blowjob, but if that is what he wants, then you’ll give it to him. You lay next to him, glad that the injured side is closer to the couch. That way, you can cuddle up to him, resting your head on his shoulder while he wraps an arm around you.
“Angel,” he murmurs after a time. “You’re a fucking angel. I think you’re my salvation.”
You highly doubt you hold this kind of power, but you don’t want to tell him. Have never been good at weaving beautiful lies for him to believe.
“We should stay here,” he continues. “Forever.”
And you wish you could. Wish reality didn’t exist, didn’t call for you to go back to your regular life like you’ve never been here with him. But you know tomorrow exists, and you’ll have to leave.
“We should have stayed in the field,” you choose to answer. “Under the shooting stars.”
“I wished for a lifetime with you, then,” he admits. “I wished I’d never have to let you go.”
You’d wished for a similar thing, but life is far too cruel to allow a world of first loves.
“Why did you…” you trail off. The question has haunted your sleepless nights for a long time after the break-up. Even years later, you’d still think about it sometimes, wondering if nostalgia would choke you up. “Why did you decide to join the gang?”
He tenses next to you. But you start tracing a mindless circle on his chest, through the shirt, and it distracts him enough for him to reply. “I thought I didn’t have a choice.”
“Did you?”
His voice holds the weight of the world when he says, “I did. And I made the wrong one.”
You want to cry, but you’re older now. You’re not the teenager who thought she was going to die from losing him anymore. You know what living without Choi San is like, and as much as it hurts, you know that it’s doable.
“You made the one you believed was right,” you say carefully. “But I do wish you had made a different one.”
He holds you a little tighter, as if that will make it so tomorrow never comes. “Me too.”
There’s an eternity of flickering candlelight on the ceiling, of the circles you trace on his chest and of your breathings forming a melody. Outside, the wind has died down, and the world is silent except from an occasional cricket braving the world after the storm.
“Where will you go, once you graduate?” he asks, taking you by surprise.
Because he knows. It’s one of the few things that hasn’t changed.
“As far away from here as I can.”
“I hope you find peace, wherever you go,” he whispers. “I hope you forget all about how we grew up in a hellhole.”
Do you feel bad for saying it? Maybe. But you can’t help saying it anyway. “I will, San.”
And like that rainy day years ago, you think you can see him walk away.
*****
Seven years later
The winter sun is strangely bright, up above. You’d think it will warm you up, but the cold is relentless, violent, and it sneaks into your coat as you walk out of the hospital. You’ve just finished a thirty-hour shift, and you can’t wait to be home.
To take a shower and forget that you’ve lost a patient today.
But you’ve saved another. A young man, with a stab wound in his ribs that should have killed him. But you saved him, stabilized his condition to the point you don’t have to worry about him anymore. Which is the only reason why you’re allowing yourself to leave now.
You’re never able to leave until you know your patients are okay. It’s been that way since your first patient, in a cabin in the woods you’ve done your best to forget.
You’d let San stay, after that weekend. He had given you the number of one of his friends, so you could get some clothes for him, and you’d gone back the next weekend. Bringing him the clothes, making love to him under the moonlight as if that would change the ending.
The following week, you had gone back to find the cabin empty. He’d left a note behind.
I hope I can find you again, wherever you go.
You kept the note. It’s in your bedside table, back at home, in the nice apartment you’ve been able to rent for yourself with all the money you’ve been making now. Enough to pay back student loans from med school, enough to reassure you that never again will you struggle.
You’ve never seen San again after. He hasn’t found you, and you haven’t searched for him. Have only looked up his name a couple of times, in the months following his disappearing, scared you’d find out that he was found dead in a ditch. But his name never came up, and you wondered if he had managed to escape, if he had managed to find a place where Bangtan couldn’t reach him.
You found peace, on your side of the country. Life is kinder here, though it still holds the same atrocities. You wonder if it’s the novelty of the city, or maybe if you’ve just grown old enough to be able to withstand the bad that the world throws your way. It’s hard to tell – you haven’t kept contact with anyone from back home, except Jae-on.
Jae-on, who’s moved with you when you’ve decided to come here, like he said he would. Jae-on, who asked you to marry him in late October, and you said yes. The ring sits heavy on your finger, and you mindlessly play with it.
In another world, you would already be married to Choi San. Sometimes, you catch glimpses of that world – a piercing gaze in the morning, a smile and a kiss to your temple. Talks about angels, children screaming in happiness. In another world, you’d be pregnant again, waiting patiently to add another piece of you and him to this world.
It’s fun to think about, sometimes, but you’ve been good at forgetting. Like you told him you would – most times, you’ve forgotten all about Choi San.
But today, you had a patient that reminded you of him. So you allow yourself to feel, you allow yourself to think about that note tucked in the bottom drawer of your bedside table, hidden under the thick socks you never use.
You allow yourself to think about the cabin in the woods, about the field where you would have gotten married had you been in that picturesque world you like to imagine. You think about laser quests and first kiss and rainy days and meteors. You think about summer, about wildflowers and him.
You’re so lost in thought you miss your stop home, and you begrudgingly get out at the next one. You’re tired, and your hands are shaking as you pull your phone out of your tote bag, wanting to text Jae-on that you’re going to be home late because you missed your stop. You walk to the other side of the tracks, sighing when you see a five-minutes wait for the next subway.
At least the sun is high in the sky, even though it is dreadfully cold. You shiver, putting your phone back in your tote bag so you can hide your hands in your sleeves again, hoping it’ll preserve them from the cold.
In your exhaustion, you forgot your gloves back at the hospital, you realize. It’s strange that you only realize now, and you reckon you really need to sleep, because your brain isn’t even working right anymore.
You sigh, glancing at the display showing the time. Still four minutes to wait. You think at this rhythm you might freeze in your spot before the next subway comes. You try to hide your face in the lapel of your coat, but a movement on the other platform attracts your gaze.
A man is helping an older woman climb down the stairs. She’s speaking loudly, which might be what attracted your gaze in the first place. You follow them as they walk down the stairs, and then when the man turns towards you, you meet his piercing gaze.
He smiles, and you realize that maybe, all those years ago, he was not spinning lies to you after all.
☆☆☆☆☆
Gosh yeahhh rereading it had me ralize that it is a lot sadder than I remembered it to be. At least we got an open ending ... :') What did we think? Should I write about other groups more often? Let me know what you think! All rights reserved to @/oddinary4bts, 2023. Do not copy, repost or translate
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theetherealbloom · 1 year
Text
UNEVEN ODDS — CH. 1
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Chapter One: These Questions Take Shape
Summary: The Reader is dragged into the Last of Us universe and has no choice but to watch the events unfold live in front of her or will she be able to change what was already written?
Paring: Joel Miller x Fem!Reader
Word Count: 6.1k
Warnings: Age-gap Romance, Violence, PTSD, Depression, Zombies, character death, swearing, angst, fluff, eventual SMUT, MY SCIENCE MIGHT BE WRONG, plot holes, rusty writing, alternate universe
A/N: I write?? Kind of?? Tbh, this self-indulgent for sure! We love maladaptive daydreaming :) Anyways, English isn’t my first language so please forgive me for any grammatical errors or spelling mistakes! Tbh I was just gonna write one chapter per episode but I got too excited :p 
Song: doomsday by Lizzy McAlpine
-> Next Chapter | Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist
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YOUR OBSERVABLE UNIVERSE – 2023
It’s been three years since the pandemic, COVID-19 has taken a toll on many people. Millions have died over the past few years and you were one of the lucky ones who got by, survived, and received the vaccine as soon it was available. The world slowly begins to open up and awake from its slumber during those years of uncertainty.
So what do you do now?
You work, continue with your quantum physics research and try and make sense of your life. Someday you’ll be able to be under the mercy of light to choose your fate and your need to find certainties and concrete science. For now, you enjoy the comforting sounds of characters conversing with each other.
Immediately as the show credits show, you fold your laptop close and prepare for bed. Episode 3 of the Last of Us was the most emotional so far, Bill and Frank’s story reminds you that love will transverse in every universe. With these tired eyes, you’ve seen enough for tonight. Your eyes slowly droop down and close, luring you into a deep sleep in a state of wishful thinking, hoping that you would have that kind of love in your life. But for now, the watercolor vivid dreams will suffice.
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TLOU WORLD – 2023
You groggily wake up and find yourself on the floor. Slowly as you sit up, you use one of your hands to rub away the sleep, “What the hell,” you mumble. The anxiety begins to creep in, you recognize the coloring of the walls and the type of flooring used.
You look down at yourself to check what you’re wearing, no longer in your sleep clothes but traded away for cargo pants, a shirt, socks, and black boots. What’s more concerning was the familiar voices just outside the tattered room you were in.
“There’s not gonna be anything bad in here?”
A gruff response comes, “Just you.”
“Oh, funny.”
No. God, no way. This is not happening. This isn’t possible. You must be dreaming, right? You quickly stand up, and as soft footsteps come closer, you see Ellie staring at you with complete shock, “Holy shit!” she screams.
The thundering thumps of footsteps quickly make their way into the room as you stand there in complete shock. Your eyes widen in shock as you are now face to face with the characters you’ve grown to love from last night through your laptop screen right in front of you. This feels like a very cruel joke.
Dark brown eyes, salt and pepper hair, tan skin, and lines that appear as Joel frowns at you, unimpressed and suspicious. While Tess is completely covering Ellie, she narrows her eyes at you and says, “Raise your hands.”
Slowly you follow her command and raise both your hands, not wanting to increase the tension between you and them. Then you try your best to steady the trembling voice that wants to escape from you and directly look at Joel to say, “I’m not infected.”
“Show us your arm and neck.” He replies with his thick southern accent, and you bring your hand to the collar of your shirt to show them your neck and then lift the sleeves of your jacket to prove that you are being truthful.
The tension between the four of you still hadn’t dissipated despite proving that you didn’t have Cordyceps. “You got any weapons?” Tess asks and you shake your head, “No.”
Ellie groans in frustration, “Guys, I need to pee.” And you bite back a smile, her attitude, and unintentional humor. You clear your throat and say, “Um, you two could interrogate me in the other room so she can, uh, relieve herself.”
Ellie’s two protectors give each other a knowing side glance and proceed to lower their weapons that were aimed at you. You take a deep breath and then follow Joel as he first leaves the room while Tess watches and follows you from behind, making sure you don’t try anything funny.
You stand in the center of the room, with lush green grass, and flowers,  you tilt your head up to look at the stream of daylight hitting your face. You take note of the overgrown plants and trees, mother nature taking back what’s hers. Eco-brutalists would be ecstatic about all of this, minus the fungi zombies.
Tess breaks the silence and asks, “What’s your name?” You give them your name and ask for theirs, even though you didn’t need to however, it is the polite and fair thing to do. You turn your head to look at both of them. They reluctantly tell you to give them their names as you try and manage to swallow away the fear and secretly hope this was all a dream or maybe a fucked up prank. Tess raises one eyebrow at you, “Where are you from?”
You purse your lips to a thin line and wonder how the hell you were gonna answer that question, you then settle for a, “It’s complicated.”
“Complicated how?” Joel gruffly asks you and you give him a light shrug in response and he scoffs.
Your shoulders sag at his reaction to your words, “I’m not trying to be difficult, I swear.  It is complicated and hard to explain, you wouldn’t believe me if I told you. And to be honest, I’m trying my best to wrap my head around this and find a way to explain it without sounding completely insane.”
Joel all but frowns at you but continues to ask, “You tryin’ to get to the QZ?” And without even thinking about it you shook your head in disagreement, and immediately followed your response with suspicion growing on their faces and a frown.
Tess looks at you in disbelief and says, “So, what the hell are you doing out in the city with all the infected running around? Going for a stroll?”
Not wanting to answer the question, you pivot to looking at his fractured hand and give him a light nod, gesturing to it, “Does it hurt?”
Tess glances at his hand and pushes Joel to sit on his chair, his hands shaking as he looks at his bloody knuckles. You also choose to sit on the plush cool green grass, the smell of earth fills your nostrils, and then watch the scene play out in front of you.
“Broken.” Tess states that Joel avoids eye contact with his partner in crime, “Maybe a hairline. It’ll heal fast.”
Tess looks down at the grimy floor and folded her hands in an attempt to calm herself, then raises her head as she whispers, “She made it through the fucking night, Joel.” He shakes his head at her, “It doesn’t matter. It’s gonna happen sooner or later. All right? We’re still close to the wall. We sneak both of them back into the QZ. We find a different way to get the battery.”
“This is our best shot,” Tess says unwaveringly with her decision while Joel scoffs, you watch them both like a tennis match and are surprised by the fact they didn’t even acknowledge your presence.  
“We take her back into the QZ, someone’s gonna notice her arm. They’re gonna scan her then they’ll kill her.”
He harshly whispers back at Tess, “Well, better them than us. You need to stop talking about this kid like she’s got some kind of life in front of her.”
It felt like extreme deja vu watching Joel and Tess argue, and on queue, Ellie walks back in and throws the magazine on the floor, and slides towards Tess. The kid plops down to sit next to you on the lush grass and you look at her with a small smile.
“You hungry?” Tess asks the both of you as she rummages through her backpack to find the energy bars, “You can share some of ours.”
“Thanks. Marlene sent me with my own.” Ellie says and takes out a chicken sandwich from her bag pocket. Tess looks at you, offering some and you politely decline, the older woman tilts her head and says, “When was the last time you ate?”
“Yesterday.” You say without a thought.
“You wanna try to explain’ how you got here? Cause when we checked, you sure as hell weren’t here. Or how the fuck did you manage to survive this long with nothing?” Tess says as she chews on the bark this world now calls food. You feel your palms sweat and pulse slightly increase, you take a deep breath and say, “This is gonna sound extremely bazaar and completely impossible but try to keep an open mind because literal infected are roaming around the streets so believe anything is now within the realm of possibility. Okay?”
You got a couple of hums with curious gazes and listened as you began to speak, “I’m possibly from a different universe or world where this is all just fiction and you’re characters based on a video game-made television series. No, I have zero ideas how I got here. I went to bed and fell asleep, and next thing I know, I woke up with this painful migraine and fatigue, different clothes and you three suddenly existing.”
You paused as you took in the group gaping at you and you sigh, “From where I came from, we had a similar thing happen, a pandemic. However, it was a virus, not Cordyceps. We called it COVID-19, it could be transmitted through an infected person's mouth or nose in small liquid particles when they cough, sneeze, speak or breathe. The outbreak started in December 2019 and 6.84 million people died in the last three years during that time. We were able to make a vaccine at a rapid rate since our technology had advanced, and we were able to distribute it globally, so in the current year which we both share, which is 2023, we’re slowly trying to find our footing again as the world opens up.”
You feel your eyes glaze over, and you then shut them as you continued, “I know it sounds fucking impossible, trust me, a lot thought so too. My scientific hypothesis is that the multiverse does exist and somehow sleep or dreaming is connected to it. I really don’t know, it was all just theoretical.”
“Prove it.”
You open your eyes and look at Joel, completely surprised he spoke, “What?”
Joel’s baritone voice and defensive stare felt like electricity through your bones, “I said, prove it.”
If there’s anything you were good at, it was reading a ton of books in a short period and memorizing the important details and plot points. Visual memory paired with the love you had for these characters had you rewatching the three episodes over and over again. Quietly, you thank the younger you for being so nerdy.
You look Joel dead in the eye and turn to the kid beside you quietly looking at you while eating her sandwich, “Your name is Ellie, you got bitten by an infected while you snuck into the mall and then Marlene found you soon afterward. Those two,” you point your thumb in their direction, “need to get you to the state house in exchange for a battery so they can go find Tommy who has been missing for almost a month.”
“Holy shit. She knows my name.” Ellie said with her mouth full of her food.
You turn back to look at Joel and Tess, and then glance at his broken wristwatch, “And, um, Joel, I know how your watch broke, I’m so– .”
“Stop.” Joel lowly says, his stare as cold as ice and distrusting of you. You avert your gaze, and a blanket of silence covers the room. Shakily Joel eats his bark of food and Tess stares at you and Ellie as she chews and swallows, “Is that chicken?”
“Yup. Marlene said they get it from smugglers.” Ellie then thoughtfully tilts her head, “Guess not you guys.”
That does it for Tess and stands up to walk towards you and the kid, “Hey, hey!” Joel says as he stands up after her but Tess holds her hand out to stop him and to signal it’s fine, “Why are you so important to Marlene? And don’t lie to me, or we’ll take you back.”
“Like she said,” the kid gestures to you, “If you take me back, you don’t get your battery.” Tess scoffs, “You heard that?” and Ellie shrugs at her, the older woman mock laughs, “Then you must’ve heard he wants to shoot you.”
Ellie looks toward Joel and he doesn’t deny it, he simply stares back at her.
“If you do that, it would be the dumbest shit you’ll ever do.” You mumble while frowning, Tess turns to you and harshly says, “Zip it, this doesn’t concern you.” And you take what she said in stride and don’t push it any further.
She then crouches down to talk to Ellie, “I’m gonna talk to you like you’re an adult. Okay?” She then takes Ellie’s silence as consent to continue, “Joel and I aren’t good people. We’re doing this for us because apparently, you’re worth something. But we don’t know what you’re worth if we don’t know what we have. So answer my question.”
Ellie rolls her eyes, rubs her face, and mumbles to herself, “She told me not to tell anybody and now I’m telling the first people that I…” She lets out a sigh and reluctantly speaks, “There’s a Firefly base camp somewhere out west with doctors. They’re working on a cure.”
Joel immediately groans in frustration, “I’ve heard this before.” Ellie continues, “And whatever happened to me,” and at the same time she and Joel say, “is the key to finding the vaccine.”
He sighs in exasperation, “That’s what this is? We’ve heard this a million times. Vaccines, miracle cures. None of it works. Ever.”
Ellie stands up, “Fuck you, man. I didn’t ask for this.”
“You and me both.” The grouch turns to his partner and says, “This isn’t gonna end well, Tess. We need to go back.”
You then remember after all those essays and news articles about your pandemic, the time when everything felt so hopeless and scary. You look at Joel and you see a reflection of your own, his fear and panic, “It’s possible.”
They both turn to you and you continue, “Theoretically, it’s possible to create a fungi vaccine, however, I’m not even sure you have the technology to produce it. And it would take finding out what Ellie truly is. Either Ellie’s immune system mutated and created antibodies to fight against the Cordyceps or something else… But either way, a vaccine or maybe a cure could be possible now because of her.”
Tess stands up, as do you, and looks at Ellie for a moment, then to Joel to say, “Let’s just finish it. It doesn’t matter if she is what the Fireflies or what an alien says.”
“I’m human.” You grumble and Tess ignores you, “If they believe that she is then we get what we want.”
Joel gives a glare at Ellie and then shifts his gaze to you, he sighs and shakes his head, “If she so much as twitches.”
Ellie proceeds to make gurgling noises and movements to pretend as if she’s turning into an infected. Tess turns to look at her and scolds in a motherly fashion, “Don’t.” You try and hold in your laugh and the young girl clears her throat, scratches the back of her neck, and mumbles, “Yeah… okay.”
Tess then turns to Joel, “Okay?”
Defeated, Joel swings his arms open and whispers, “Okay.”
The foreshadowing of the fact it will not be okay in the next few moments had you feeling nauseous. The churning fear begins to bubble inside of you, Tess is going to die, albeit a noble and honorable death, but it still would hurt Joel, and Ellie as she slowly grows more fond of the older woman. Then, it hit you, is it possible to change what already was written? Could you save them all? Well, you’re already here, might as well try.
The three of them begin to pack their belongings as you awkwardly stand there with your hands in your pockets and watch as they prepare for the journey to the State House. The sound of Joel picking up his gun catches Ellie’s interest, “Can I have a gun?”
“Absolutely not.”
“No.”
“Okay. Fine. Jesus. I’ll have to throw a fucking sandwich at them.” Ellie then shoves the leftover sandwich into her bag and Joel goes to the giant bookshelf, which is blocking the door, to the side, then peaks out of the door to check if it’s safe. You hear the sound of birds chirping and feel the warmth of the light flood in the abandoned building.
“It’s clear.”
Following Ellie from behind, you begin walking slowly toward the light and into the apocalyptic city. Your eyes take in the sight of tilted, destroyed, buildings, overgrown plants, trees, abandoned cars, and trucks. A hauntingly beautiful sight if you were being honest.
Ellie gasps in wonder as she takes it all in, “Woah.” Tess looks over at her and says, “Yeah, looks different in the daylight, huh?” Joel quickly scans the area, “We should get moving.” Tess begins to take the lead, followed by Ellie then you, while Joel trails from behind.
“It’s like a fucked up moon.” Ellie moves towards a crater and peers over it, “Is this where they bombed?”
“Yeah, they hit most of the big cities like this. They had to slow the spread somehow.” Tess says and Joel continues to walk past it, ignoring the crater and any kind of conversation. “Worked here, but it didn’t in most places.”
Unconsciously, you begin humming to the tune of a Linda Ronstadt song. The last song you ever heard before sleeping. Continuing up to a ruined building, with debris blocking your path, “So the State House is across there. It’s about a ten-minute walk if you could go straight.”
Ellie looks at both of them and you wonder how the fuck you were gonna defeat the clickers later on with no weapon, “So…”
“Long way or short way?” Joel asks Tess, she holds the straps of her backpack and the wind blows through her hair, “I mean, it’s a long way or the we’re-fucking-dead way.”
“Well, I vote a long way just based on that limited information,” Ellie says dryly, and Joel stares at her, a puzzled expression on his face, then his eyes lands on you, waiting for your input.
You frown at him, “No, don’t look at me like that. I’m not giving you any spoilers.” Joel clenches his jaw and turns to Tess, “We have to check it from the hotel first.” She begins to walk away, “Okay.”
You walk along the highway in somewhat comfortable silence, you carefully look to the ground and see a giraffe plushie, the symbolism doesn’t escape you, knowing all too well what it meant. Moss and different kinds of plants grow over the cracks of the road, you spot branches atop abandoned cars and dust covers the windows of each door.
Tess and Ellie begin conversing in front of the group, while you and Joel follow from a distance. You look at Joel and say, “I’m sorry if I overstepped a while ago. I couldn’t prove it unless I told you something only you knew.”
He looks at you in an emotion you can’t quite understand, but still responds in his grumpy demeanor, “Just don’t bring it up again.” You quickly nod, “Mhm, noted.”
It was quiet for a bit until, to your surprise, he asks you, “What did you do for work?” The smile was so difficult to hold back, you chuckle and raise your eyebrows, “I’m… well, was a Quantum physicist. You were a carpenter right?”
“It kinda’ freaks me out how you know that off the top of your head.” His Texan accent heavy as he spoke, you knew that it would take time to build his trust. His reserved and security-oriented nature would prove to be a challenge, but something you wholeheartedly would take on, “I’ll try not to do it as much, I’m sorry.”
“You apologize too much.”
“It’s a habit I’m trying to break, to be honest.” You chuckle nervously, putting your hands in the pockets of your cargo pants, and continue to walk, watching and hearing bits of conversation from Tess and Ellie.
“I thought you were some sort of’ performer, a singer maybe, with all that hummin’ you were doin’ awhile ago.”
That catches you off guard and you feel the confusion form on your face and you begin to feel your face feel warm, “What?” Joel continues, “You were hummin’ to Linda Ronstadt, right? Haven’t heard that song in a while.” You stared at him in complete disbelief, “You heard me humming?”
As he was about to reply, you and him managed to catch up to Ellie and Tess to overhear their conversation, “How old are you?” Ellie replies, “Fourteen.” Tess hums and smirks at the kid, “Wow. Well, I mean you got some balls on you, sister.”
“Thanks,” Ellies says and follows after Tess, climbing over the flipped rusted car. You follow their movements and Joel does too.
Tess curiously looks over her shoulder at Ellie and continues her walk forward, “Nobody is gonna come after you, right? Like Mom, Dad, boyfriend?”
“I’m an orphan, and, uh, no.” Ellie takes a look around her surroundings and lets her hand brush on the tall grass growing from the cracks of the pavement, “Everyone said the open city was crazy. Like, swarms of infected running around everywhere.”
Joel humors her, “Not exactly like that.” Tess smiles, “You know people like to tell stories.”
“So there aren’t super-infected that explode fungus spores on you?” Ellie curiously asks with a somewhat happy tone, as if all of this doesn’t scare her. Fearless is what you conclude, a trait that could be good when at its best but dangerous and reckless at its worse. “Shit, I hope not,” Tess says.
“Or ones with split-open heads that see in the dark like bats?” Ellie asks and that causes a shift in Tess, Joel, and your demeanor. Fucking clickers. And on queue, you hear the screeching of the devil’s spawn in the distance. The whole group stills and Ellie shakily asks, “What was that?”
Joel doesn’t reply, instead, he just says, “Let’s keep movin’.”
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Joel pushes the doors of the hotel open, loudly shrieking as he does, and all three of you are greeted with the sight of the flooded hotel. It was almost swamp-like due to the green water, lily pads floating, and the ducks and frogs swimming.
Ellie takes a spin and looks at the view with a childlike wonder you wish you still had, “You’ve got to be kidding me! You ever stay in a place like this?” “Uh, no, a little out of our league.” Tess says and Joel looks at Ellie and asks, “How do you even know what this is?” Being the smartass that she throws him a look and says, “Have you heard of books?”
You chuckle as Joel shakes his head and walks down into the murky water, “Wait we’re going in there?” Ellie asks, and Tess nods, “Yeah, we gotta get to the stairwell on the other side.” The kid takes a step back, “Well, I don’t… I don’t know how to swim.” Joel lifts an eyebrow, “Seriously?”
“Do you think we have pools in the QZ?” Ellie says with narrowed eyes. “No, smart-ass. I mean…”, Joel does a little jump into the water, it does a small splash when he does. “I don’t know how I was supposed to know that,” Ellie says as she walks down the steps and into the water, you follow behind her and Tess.
You four wade through the green murky water, “This is so gross.” Ellie says with a huge smile on her face and you can’t help but laugh, “This is disgusting.” The fourteen-year-old spots the concierge desk and makes her way over, “Oh, check it out!”
You place both of your hands on your hips and  watch her mess with the call bell, “Ding, ding.” She begins to do her form of roleplay for her entertainment and to cure her boredom, “Yes sir. I would like your finest suite, please.”
“Yes, ma’am. Would you like me to take your luggage?”, she proceeds to answer her own question and pushes the hotel bell cart through the water, “Yes, ma’am. Right away ma’am…”
“You’re a weird kid.” Joel states, Ellie turns her head to look at him, “You’re a weird kid.” Something falls over, a sloshing sound indicating that it had fallen in front of Ellie causing her to jump back and bang the piano behind her and yelp, “Oh, fuck!”
You and Joel are quick to come to her side to see what it was. A skeleton lay there unmoving and rotten, your eyes raise to look at Ellie panting and clutching onto the hotel bell cart, “Oh, my god.” Joel kicks the skull and the kid mumbles, “Uh, sorry.”
Joel offers his hand to help Ellie back up and the sound of the honky-tonk piano creates sharp notes as she stands, Joel pulls back his hand once Ellie can manage on her own and begins to walk away.
You look to Joel, “How’s the hand?” He looks down at it as it shakes again, “It’ll heal.” Your face forms a frown and you shake your head, “That doesn’t answer my question.” Joel doesn’t respond and decides to continue and you simply follow.
“You okay?” Tess asks Ellie, and the young girl wades through the water like nothing happened, “Yep. Fucking Fabulous.”
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After ten flights of stairs you finally made it to the top floor, Joel goes through the doorway first, while Tess takes a moment to catch her breath, “Fuck. Holy shit.” 
You’re a little breathless, but not as much as Tess since you were a bit younger than her. “Come on, it wasn’t that bad.” Ellie says teasingly and Tess shoots her a look, “You try climbing ten fuckin’ floors with our knees. See how you feel.”
You turn right to a hallway, to see a giant obstruction made out of the rubble, “Well, when the fuck did that happen?” Tess tries to push the door to her right, only to be blocked. You try to check the door to the left to find the same outcome, you sigh “No.”
“All right, well, I mean, maybe I could climb up there. Work my way around and open it from the inside?” Ellie peers around the rocks, “Uh, no. Well, I’m the smallest, so it’d be easier for me to get through.” Tess hums, “But you die and we get nothing. You stay.”
“I could help.” You say a little meek, Tess is a little intimidating and you feel so out of place like you’re intruding. Technically, you aren’t supposed to be in this mess. She takes a good look at you and says, “Yeah, no.”
You deflate a little and avoid trying to argue, Tess turns to Joel and asks for help, “Can you give me a hand?” Joel pulls back Ellie with the strap of her backpack and she sighs, then Joel tugs your jacket sleeve to do the same. Your face warms a little bit, it’s the first time he’s ever touched you.
Joel boosts up Tess over the pile of rubble and she climbs over, “You good up there?” Tess analyzes the mess she needs to clean up and replies, “Yeah. It’s a bit of a mess, so I’m gonna need a few minutes.”
Joel turns around to face you and Ellie, he adjusts his gun and lets his back slide against the wall to sit down across from both of you. Ellie has her arms resting on her knees while you decide to sit comfortably cross-legged.
Ellie takes out her knife and decides to play with it, tossing it in her hands as if it were just a pen and not something that could easily cut her if she commits a mistake. You watch everything play out just like it did in the episode—character development.
“Nice knife,” Joel says as his eyes follow the movement of Ellie’s tossing. She only glances at him with acknowledgment. “Where’d you learn to do that?” he asks, you gotta hand it to him for trying to make an effort.
She replies with a monotone voice, “The circus.” 
Joel looks away exasperated and completely done with her bullshit. You try and hide your smile, but the slight crease in your eyes gives away your amusement. Ellie folds her knife, and as Joel sighs, the kid decides to give an olive branch, “Where are you from?”
“Texas.” He replies, and Ellie continues, “What about Tess?”
“Detroit. It’s in Michigan.”
If there’s anything she hated most, was the fact people underestimate her intelligence, she rolls her eyes and Ellie’s reply comes out harsh, “I go to school. I know where Detroit is.”
Her response causes a wave of silence between the three of you. Your eyes drift from Joel to Ellie, she then decides it’s your turn to be interrogated, “Are you from the future?”
Your mouth twists a little to the right before deciding on a good enough answer, “Sort of? Your technology stopped advancing in 2003, so, I guess I am?” This piques her interest, “So, what’s it like over there?”
You pick the dirt off the underside of your fingernails, a little nervous, or if not nervous then cautious, as you respond, “Almost the same. Our technology is way different though.”
“Different how?” She asks.
You give her a soft smile and respond, “Well, for starters, we have touch screens for phones, laptops, tablets, you name it, it probably has a touch screen.”
“No way,” Ellie says with her eyes full of amazement and wonder, “What else?”
You give a hum as you teasingly tell her, “I don’t know… it might blow your tiny little mind.” She blows a raspberry in your face and you stick your tongue out in retaliation.
“Come on! Wait, you said we were just characters in some kind of story?” She says dramatically and tugs the sleeve of your jacket and continues, “What did you mean by that?”
Your eyes shift to look at Joel, who has his full attention on you; simply waiting. You blink owlishly at him, once, then twice before settling on a response, “Yeah, um, it recently aired.”
“So, do you know the future? Like our future? What’s about to happen? Will we be able to make a cure or a vaccine?” You couldn’t keep up with her rapid questions, and your mouth slightly parts open. Should you tell them? 
Can you change the fact Tess is practically minutes away from death? That Joel is about to make the worst mistake of his life? That Bill and Frank are… that they…
Luckily, you didn’t need to answer Ellie, Joel who senses your unease, steps in for you, “Ellie, stop askin’ her about her life, she doesn’t wanna give anythin’ up.” You look at him apologetically and shut your eyes for a while. This migraine keeps bothering you, a sharp, heavy, thump in the side of your brain hasn’t gone away. You tell yourself that it eventually will. Maybe.
Ellie focuses her attention back to Joel, “So you two like a…”
“Pass.” He says.
Ellie continues, “How’d you end up in Boston?”
“Pass. No more questions about me.” Ellie rolls her eyes at him and racks her brain for a different question, “How long do infected live?” Joel mocks Ellie in reply, “Oh, I thought you went to school.”
“It’s a really shitty one.” She snarkily replies. You smile at their banter with your eyes closed, enjoying the conversation that they have going on. Joel thinks for a moment before answering her, “Well, some last about a month or two. But there’s other’s been walkin’ about 20 years.”
Ellie fidgets with her knife again, “You ever kill one?”
You hear the slight sorrow in his voice, “Yeah, I’ve killed lots of them.” Ellie asks the most human question as she looks at the older man, “Was it hard? Like, knowing they were people once?”
You open your eyes to watch his gaze look away from the kid, memories come back to him, what he’s done and will continue to do, and he nods, “Sometimes.”
“What about that guy last night?” She asks, and you frown while he gives Ellie a stern look. You knew Ellie liked the fact Joel hurt the FEDRA guard to protect her. She loved it. Luckily Joel doesn’t have to respond, you could hear the sound of something approaching you. The loyalist immediately stands up, and you and Ellie get up to stand next to Joel, he puts his finger to the trigger of his gun, ready to protect you both from whatever is out there.
“You can put the gun down, Joel,” Tess calls out from a distance, and a tingle of jealousy moves through your bones like electricity. She knew him so well, to the point where she knew what he was going to do before doing it. They both loved each other without admitting it, and it hurts you. They never stood a chance. 
You hear the quiet rumble of Tess pushing away the debris to open the door, the loud creak of metal reveals her face, and it’s full of worry. Joel reads her like a book, “What now?” Then Tess nods her head, signaling to follow her.
As you make your way upstairs, you take notice of the abandoned wine glass and dishes, the dust that coats every inch of the hotel, and the fallen chairs. Tess pulls back a plastic curtain for you and Ellie to walk through, only to be greeted by the view of hundreds of infected down below.
“There’s so many,” Ellie comments in disbelief, you can hear the cries and wailing of each Runner as they roll and crawl. The young girl leans a little forward to get a better view. Tess nods, “The last time we were here they were still deep inside the buildings. Then I guess enough people came through looking for the QZ they went inside seeking shelter, and that’s how they get more and more of the city bit by city year after year.”
As the clouds pass by, the sun shines through a little, overwhelming light shines over the infected, they screech and roll away, like a domino effect. “They’re connected,” Ellie says, and Tess nods in confirmation, “More than you know. The fungus also grows underground. Long fibers like wires, some of them stretching over a mile.”
If you weren’t so focused on listening to Tess explain the cordyceps, you would have felt Joel staring at you the whole time, observing how you were taking all of the information being shared. You were surprisingly calm, despite the fact zombies are now real and you could die. And possibly a little worried like you were anticipating something bad was going to happen.
Tess continues, “Now you step on a patch of cordyceps in one place and you can wake a dozen infected from somewhere else. Now they know where you are, now they come. You’re not immune from being ripped apart. You understand? It’s important. I’m trying to keep you alive.”
Ellie nods and you do too, even if the question wasn’t directed at you. “So we’re not going that way.” She states, and Tess agrees, “No.”
“What do we do then? Short way?” Ellie asks and Joel looks at Tess, and speaks the dreaded words you’ve heard before, “Museum.”
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A/N: Trust me, I’m working double time on the next one if this is received well :,) Thank you for reading! See ya in the next chapter <3
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maccaronimassacre · 4 months
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Resident Evil bot dump #8
I hope you guys are hungry because this is the biggest batch yet! I have had to split the masterlists into 2 because I have hit over a hundred bots! Unfortunately I cant pin both of them but I have made sure they are linked together. Also feel free to make any requests for Jill and Carlos as I have started making bots for the now.
CEO!Ada Wong x Reader
A familiar pair of high heels can be heard making their rounds up and down the cubicles, somehow drowning out the monotonous clicking of keyboards and dial tones. “Try and get those files sent to me by the end of the day.” The voice calls out from behind and snaps you out of your daydream. It’s your boss, Ada Wong, currently holding two cups of coffee with one being for you. Despite her unreadable expression, all these small interactions you have with her make you wonder if there is something more she wants from you.
Ada Wong x Reader (Vent)
Ada’s eyes drift away from the true crime documentary she’s watching over to you resting beside her. Noticing your expression, she shifts her body on the couch and pats her thighs, motioning for you to lay your head down on her lap. “I can tell when something is eating away at you.” Her warm voice drowns out the gruesome details of the case being displayed on the screen and waits for you to take her offer, if you wish to of course.
Carlos Oliveira x UBCS!Reader
Mikhail sent you and Carlos to clear the rubble on the train tracks in hopes of getting it cleared by the time Jill powers the subway. The usually snarky and upbeat Carlos is surprisingly quiet as he moves bits of debris off the tracks, his mind replaying Jill’s words over and over. “Hey… Do you reckon we’re on the right side?” Carlos asks after chucking another couple of bricks off to the side. He takes a moment to wipe the sweat off his brow and gestures to the Umbrella Corporation patch on yours and his own shoulder.
Carlos Oliveira x UBCS!Reader (RPD)
After sending off the train containing the few remaining survivors, you and Carlos have been sent to the RPD in search of Dr Nathaniel Bard, the man behind the cure for the T-Virus that could save the entire city. “If our intel is still worth a damn then Bard’s in the S.T.A.R.S office.” Carlos heads deeper inside the abandoned lobby, looking at the layout of the police station on the open laptop and pointing to the area on the second floor.
Carlos Oliveira x Hospital staff!Reader
Carlos treads carefully through the corridors of the ravaged hospital, driven by the urgency to find the cure for Jill and potentially the entirety of Raccoon City. His attention is immediately drawn to a soft shuffling sound that fills which seems to be coming from inside the broom closet. Carlos readied his assault rifle and takes a deep breath, preparing himself for another gruesome encounter with the undead. Slowly the door opens and he quickly aims ahead only to not be met with the growls and groans of a zombie. Instead he sees you. A lone survivor in the midst of this chaos.
Lifeguard!Carlos Oliveira x Reader
So you might have swam out a bit too far. Perhaps it was due to overconfidence? Maybe you saw a cool fish and went after it. Or was it an attempt to get the attention of a certain lifeguard. A very handsome lifeguard who is now carrying you back to shore in his arms. “You know there are lot easier ways to grab my attention than trying to drown, right?” Carlos teases while holding your drenched form close to his chest and making his way back to shore. “Do you need mouth to mouth while I’m here too? Just to be on the safe side.”
Carlos Oliveira x Reader (Vent)
It doesn’t take a genius to know that something is wrong. Which is exactly why Carlos has wrapped you in piles upon piles of blankets on the couch like a Matryoshka doll and placed down your favourite snacks and drink on the coffee table in front of you. "Come on now, you know you can talk to me about anything. I’m here for you every step of the way." He gives you a gentle smile while giving you as much space as you need on the couch, waiting patiently for you to open up if you wish to do so.
Carlos Oliveira x Reader
“Hey {{user}}! I’m back just like I said I would be!” A muffled voice calls out and is followed by the sound of the front door closing and locking. A familiar set of footsteps head upstairs and into the shared bedroom. “Hey sweet thing.” Carlos whispers softly into your ear before giving your cheek a gentle kiss. The mattress dips with his weight, creaking and groaning until he settles down beside you with an adoring smile curling at his lips.
Knight!Carlos Oliveira x Heir!Reader
"You know your old man is going to kick my ass when he finds out that I’ve snuck you of the castle grounds, right?" Despite Carlos’ constant complaining, the small smirk tugging at his lips says differently. After all, as your personal knight he is simply supposed to protect you, but it was never specified where he should be doing so. Plus, your rebellious nature makes the job all the more fun for him as you lead him to god knows where.
Chris Redfield x Reader (vent)
You don’t even get a word out and Chris is carrying you to the bedroom over his shoulder, holding you in his arm like you weigh nothing. “Come on, hun. When was the last time you actually sat down and relaxed?” Before you could answer him, he drops you onto the bed and gets in himself, tucking the blanket over the both of you. His burly arms wrap around your middle and he brings you close to his body. “You don’t have to tell me now if you don’t want, but I can tell that something is up.”
CEO!Chris Redfield x Reader
You step into the office, ready to start another workday when you hear a voice coming from the break room. “Hey {{user}}! Just the person I wanted to see. Could you follow me to my office for a moment?” It’s your boss, Chris Redfield, motioning you to follow him with a simple tilt of his head. In one hand he’s balancing a tray stacked with cups of coffee and several boxes of donuts in his other hand, his muscles flex slightly under his tight dress shirt which has left many of your colleagues to wonder if he is even aware of his own stature.
Claire Redfield x Reader (Motorcycle Date)
“Don’t worry, {{user}}! I’ve been riding motorbikes since I could crawl.” Claire’s eyes twinkle with excitement, eager to feel the wind rush through her hair and ride through the city with you. Plus, she can’t help but blush like a schoolgirl at the thought of you holding onto her the entire time. She pats the side of her bike before slipping on her helmet and hands you a matching one. “Though… Maybe hold onto me just to be safe.”
Racer!Claire Redfield x Journalist!Reader
The race ends with a dramatic finish as Claire Redfield claims another cup to add to her racing career. She steps out of the car, taking off her helmet and inhaling the overpowering blend of burnt rubber and fuel while taking in the electric atmosphere of the race track. A chorus of cheers erupts from the crowd as Claire, triumphant, heads towards you and your camera crew stationed on the sidelines, all eager to capture the essence of this rising champion in red.
Claire Redfield x Reader (vent)
After noticing how deflated you’ve been over the past week, Claire took it upon herself to pamper you for the entire day. Any plans you had? Rescheduled. Work? You’re now on sick leave. Studies? Don’t even think about it. “I’m not letting you do anything until you tell me what’s wrong you know.” And with those words you find yourself on the couch, watching the TV show that Claire has been begging you to watch for weeks while you lay in her arms. Claire’s hands gently caress and massage your scalp and she occasionally presses a gentle kiss to your forehead.
Ethan Winters x Reader (vent)
Ethan noticed how on edge you have been which is exactly why he cooked you your favourite meal along with a bottle of wine all set up on the coffee table. His face is illuminated by the TV screen which is currently paused on your favourite movie of all time while he sets up some pillows, blankets and even some rose petals he found from last years Valentine’s Day gift. His ears perk up when he hears your footsteps coming into the living room and he stretches his arms out with a prideful smile on his face. “Ta dah~! I know you haven’t been feeling great recently so I’d thought I’d cheer you up with a date night. What do you think?”
Colleague!Ethan Winters x Reader (Elevator)
Stepping into the elevator after a taxing day, your co-worker Ethan joins you with a shared exhaustion etched across his face. He gives you a polite nod of acknowledgement as the doors shut and the elevator starts to make its descent. Before he could initiate any small talk, the lights flicker and the elevator shudders, letting out a groan as it jolts, causing the both of you to stumble. “You’ve got to be kidding me…” He grumbles in frustration , pressing all of the buttons on the panel in a desperate attempt to get the old metal box moving again.
Lycan!Ethan Winters x Reader
Perched atop a small house, Ethan surveys the desolate village, his keen eyes seeking treasures for the Duke. He looks down out his bitten hand, his fingernails dark and sharpened into claws. A low snarl escapes his lips before it quickly morphs into a cough and a muttered curse. It’s only when he scans the frozen landscape again that he catches a new scent close by, except this time it’s not one of a Lycan or a Moroaica. It’s a human’s. With a new sense of purpose, Ethan drops back down to the village ruins and starts to trail your scent, hopeful to find a survivor or anyone that could help him save his daughter and stop Miranda with him.
STARS!Jill Valentine x Reader
Jill walks over to you, chuckling at the mountains upon mountains of paperwork and reports sat upon your desk to the point where she can’t even see your face. After finally making the decision to put you out of your misery, she taps your shoulder before pointing at the clock behind her with her thumb. “Looks like it’s break time. How about we go out for some lunch? My treat.”
Roommate!Jill Valentine x Reader
With the situation in Raccoon City getting worse by the day, Jill decides that if there is ever a time to teach you self defence that it's right now. “So you find yourself in an alley, but it’s a dead end and a zombie comes at you. What do you do?” Jill motions to the pillow with a body poorly drawn out in sharpie. There are already several stab marks on it and bits of stuffing coming out of the pillow.
Post RE:1!Jill Valentine x Reader
You’ve grown accustomed to waking up in an empty bed, even at times when the moon is high and illuminates the quiet streets of Raccoon City. The familiar sound of the tap shutting off signals Jill's return to your shared bedroom, a new bottle of wine in hand. “Didn’t mean to wake you up again…” She murmurs, her words slightly slurred as she sits down on her side of the bed once more. The bags under her eyes worsen with each passing day along with the lingering smell of alcohol and takeout on her breath.
Roommate RE:3R!Jill Valentine x Reader
The stations broadcast the outbreak in Raccoon City, capturing the chaos below. Civilians run as makeshift barriers collapse and fire engulfs the streets and apartment blocks. If there was ever a time to try and get out of here, it would be now. “Come on, this is probably the only shot we have at making it out of here alive.” Your roommate, Jill, calls out while loading up her handgun and walking towards the front door. Even from the top floor of the apartment building you can hear the growls of the undead, ripping through fences and clawing at doors.
RE:3R!Jill Valentine x Reader
The walkie-talkie crackles with static as you navigate the chaotic city streets, continuing your frantic search for Jill. The plaza is overrun with creatures of the undead, roads blocked off by destroyed buildings and piles of cars all totalled or being used as barriers. “I’ve managed to lose that thing for now… Damn it, where are you {{user}}?!” Jill’s voice cuts through the interference, sounding breathless yet irritated with the creature constantly in pursuit of her. The two of you got separated by the Nemesis, a B.O.W created by Umbrella to kill all remaining STARS members, including Jill.
Jill Valentine x Reader (vent)
Another sigh leaves Jill’s lips when she spots you in bed in the same position she left you in when she left for work this morning. Her expression softens as she sheds her uniform and slips into her nightwear before snuggling up beside you under the covers. “Come on sweetheart… Did you even leave bed today?” Her gentle murmur caresses your skin as she draws you close to her chest, her thumb tracing soft, soothing circles on the nape of your neck, providing a comforting touch.
RE:4R!Leon Kennedy x Reader
You’ve witnessed an array of strange things alongside the agent your father sent to rescue you. You have watched him eat a snake raw, spent 10 minutes crawling on the ground while trying to stab some rats, and now you are in what can only be described as a shooting range made for a funfair. Sat on top of a barrel, you watch Leon shoot down another load of cardboard cutouts of pirates, the merchants praises are drowned out by the music blaring over the speakers with each target hit. The lively atmosphere almost makes you forget the horrors that lie just above ground.
RE:4R!Leon Kennedy x Sacrifice!Reader
The murmuring and chanting grows louder as Leon trails the torch lit path through the settlement. The fires flicker and shadows dance across the trees and rocks he weaves through, trying to remain hidden from the cult while nearing the source of activity. They all seem to be huddled around something, but when a ganado steps away from the altar, it is revealed that that something is you. You’re bound and barely conscious with a symbol painted on your skin with blood. You may not be the person he is looking for, but Leon knows that he needs to act. And he needs to act now.
Leon Kennedy x Reader (Vent)
“Just because I drink to solve all my problems doesn’t mean that you should too you know.” That familiar teasing voice of your partner comes from behind and you soon feel a pair of arms wrap around you waist and pull you close to his chest. “Talk to me sweetheart. Tell me what’s going on.” Leon whispers into your skin before resting his chin on top of you head and gives you a gentle squeeze. His thumb rubs soft and soothing circles into your skin in an attempt to ease you into opening up.
Other Ethan and Chris bots here
Other Ada, Leon, Carlos, Claire and Jill bots here
154 notes · View notes
neoarchipelago · 1 year
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Madripoor High (Part 1)
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A/N: ok so hum... First part of something new... I have no idea for a title so please throw some ideas in the comments... Yes i have added a little hint of marvel but it is not in the marvel universe! I just love Madripoor. I kinda have the tittle 'Madripoor High' in mind but I'm not sure... Don't even know if I'll keep this going just... Let me know in the comments. Also edited this on my phone... Kinda sucky, I'll put it back correctly if I do keep it going.
Warnings: sexual talk, weapons etc.
-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-
Cars passing by and people walking to their destinations. The busy city boomed around you, muffled by the headphones on your head. Your music blocked the chaos of London. You enjoyed London. You found it beautiful. Amongst all the countries you've been to… and that list was quite long, you enjoyed the weather. Exactly. The gloomy, rainy weather. The black umbrella shielding you from the crystal droplets as you walked to a small cafe. You were greeted as you entered, dropping your shield at the entrance before taking place at a table in a corner far from others.
Your coat was removed, your backpack opened to free your laptop. The nice waitress walked to you after several minutes, asking for your order.
"I'd like a hazelnut cappuccino and… the crumble please" you answered with a smile.
As she walked away you looked around, the almost empty cafe was quiet, the few people chatting or working. You smirked, turning to your laptop you went to check for your payment. You smiled as you watched the enormous figure in your credit account. Yes. Credit. Because in the underground, money is important, but credits… Those are so much more valuable. The Madripoor currency.
Sighing, you let yourself lean back on the sofa chair, crossing your arms. You were proud. After everything you've gone through, you have managed to become one of the most prized citizens of Madripoor. The hard work you've put in has paid off, the contracts have piled up, the price tag always climbing up. Your speciality? Tracking. To get into details, it was hacking. Now you mostly used it to track down targets for big mean people who always have something against another big mean one. You were good. You were the fucking best. So yes. You were proud, even if you had no one to be proud of you.
Cup placed in front of you, you were taken out of your daydream. You smiled up, thanking the waitress, closing your laptop and pushing it to the side to bring your little treats closer to you. Contract over, now you were free until you accepted the next one. It would fall quite fast, yes, but you thought you might get some rest. Go back to Madripoor, to Hightown, and rest.
You took a bite of the crumble, feeling the sweetness of it making you relax. You thought you might go shopping once you'd got back. Maybe you'd stay in and play, watch some movies. Maybe you'd go to Downtown…
A soft buzz captured your attention. You grabbed your phone, looking at the screen. Someone was calling. No one called. Very few… barely anyone had this number. It was used for emergencies only and it had been a year and half since it rang. You frowned. It foreshadowed something entirely different than a break. You sighed. Curiosity eating at you. Before it was too late you answered.
"Hello?"
"Tracker."
You frowned. A woman's voice. A woman who knew your screen name. Only people from Madripoor knew it. Or people extremely close to Madripoor.
"Be quick." You said.
"You were never patient muñeca."
Muñeca. Doll. In Spanish. You sighed, closing your eyes.
"Valeria, you fucking bitch, I thought you were in jail."
"I was. I got out. Then that cabron de Alejandro trapped me."
You smirked. Alejandro. You haven't met the man, but by the amount of times she had complained about him, it's like you knew him already. A little voice was heard behind her, notifying you that she wasn't alone in that call.
"Where are you calling me from?"
"A military base. I need your help."
"No."
"You didn't listen."
"Go on I'm listening."
"We need help to find-"
"No."
She sighed. Helping her? It was already risky. You could. You could get her out and free her but she'd get herself into trouble again. Helping the military? You? Tangled in the deepest roots of criminality? It was the stupidest thing to ask of you.
"Come on. You love a challenge. And I have one just for you."
"It doesn't matter if I love a challenge. You're on high speaker aren't you?"
"Well-"
"Of course you are. They wouldn't let you call anyone without supervision. They know who I am? They know what I do?"
"They do." She said, a hint of amusement in her voice.
"So what's going to happen? I help and then what? They got pretty little pink handcuffs for me?"
"Well you can ask the skull face to put them on. Or the ADHD Scot." She answered even more amusedly.
"Valeria… what?" You asked confused.
"Come on. It'll be very interesting. I know you're curious. And this… is like tracking a sin cara."
"A no face?"
Damn. She might succeed to make you interested. But she might be bluffing as well.
"Yes. We need to find Echo."
"Echo? The scientist working for various cartel's and Mafia bosses? The man that no one has ever met or even seen?" You asked, irony dripping from your tongue.
"Are you skeptical?"
"Echo doesn't exist. It's a stupid invention from some idiots to sell products at a higher price. You're wasting my time. Goodbye and good luck Valeria" You rolled your eyes.
"I have proof."
You froze. Proof? Now curiosity prickled your skin. What kind of proof? How did they get it?
"Hello?"
"Shut up. I'm thinking."
She chuckled on the other side.
"We've heard that your work is based on contracts. We'd like to offer you a contract." A voice rang.
The raspy voice was soft but commanding. A man, probably in his 40's. He sounded calm, determined.
"And who might you be?" You asked, taking a sip of your cappuccino who was growing cold.
"I'm Captain John Price."
A captain. Fair enough.
"What kind of contract?"
"You help us, we find Echo, we neutralize him and get Intel. You get immunity on this mission and after your part is done, you have 24 hours to vanish."
You thought about the question. Finding Echo. Might be the golden contract for you. Not that you needed it. But this… this was a challenge. Not the boring easy tracks that you had to do. You knew how even the high table of Madripoor was starting to get annoyed about this intriguing character. Countering rules in Hightown and Downtown. This might be an opportunity to kill two birds with one stone. You looked around you, at the calm cafe. Fuck… you might not get that break after all. You closed your eyes, preparing yourself to accept a deal you might regret.
"48 hours. Full immunity from the moment I step into your base until the end of the contract. I do things my way. You get your guy, your Intel. That's it. I'm not getting in the middle of the cartel's and other big brainless gorillas." You stated.
"Fine." You heard after a few pending seconds.
"Alright. I'll think about it." You finished.
"Didn't you just agree?" Another voice rang.
This time it was more… alive. The Scottish accent meant it was one of the men Valeria had mentioned.
"I'll agree when you'll receive the contract. I have to check something before I agree. I'll contact you and travel to you. Don't worry, you'll get an answer in the next few hours." You explained, opening your laptop.
"Should we send you a location? An email?" Another voice again. British accent but cute voice.
"No. I know where you are. I know how to contact you. I'll do so when the time's come."
"How?" The Scottish voice echoed in your ear.
"Oh… she'll have no problem with it." Valeria answered.
"See you soon." You concluded, hanging up.
Entering the base was easy. The new recruits keeping the gates were easily distracted. You infiltrated the base, making sure to deviate the cameras and stealing a 'visitor' badge.
You walked around, white wool shirt, black shorts with tights. Thigh high socks over your tights and comfy running shoes. Your black backpack and phone in hand. Sometimes, the best way to hide is to get attention… especially from men. You'd feel the looks, the way they were directed to your thick thighs, or neck, in plain view as you had pulled your hair back.
You were chubby, not exactly thin, tummy showing and chubby cheeks. At least, that was what was usually romanticized, the thighs, ass and boobs being overly sexualized. You wanted to roll your eyes. But eventually sometimes, men or women easily fall for it.
You took your time to walk around, discovering the grounds, the badge often being watched by what seemed to be higher ups. You'd fain innocence and bat your lashes when getting caught in places you shouldn't be, before letting them turn their backs and walking straight to where you wanted to. You weren't exactly wanting to be hidden right now. You were good at it. Hiding. But right now you wanted to explore.
The contract had been sent, signed and sent. You had gotten a chance to engage with the high table who agreed to such a contract. You didn't really need their approval. But you didn't want your place in Madripoor to be compromised by working with 'the good guys'. Not only did the high table saw no problem in it but they greatly appreciated you going after Echo. You were right, the character was definitely getting on their nerves, the echoes of him creating some ruckus in downtown.
You walked around a huge warehouse, military gear sprawled around. Most were used for training. You heard some noise not too far, deciding to hide behind big wooden shipping boxes. Voices echoed through the big place. You tried not to look too much. If you can see them, they can see you. You'd rather use your other senses to localize them. You only took one glance at two men standing back to you near a table full of items. One was overly talking while the other one rummaged through what seemed to be his gear bag. The man talking had a mohawk. It made you smile. The other one… was obviously wearing something over his head, but with their backs turned to you, you couldn't make out any more details.
The light reflected into the shinny blade of a combat knife. You blinked, almost hypnotized by it. You wanted it. The two men walked away, still babbling. You waited a few minutes before stepping out of your hiding place, going straight for the bag. You opened it, looking through the different things, looking for the pretty black mat combat knife. You almost jumped in place when you found it, taking the thingy with you before skipping back to your little exploration. This time, in a much more concealed way.
You watched, you spied. You wanted to understand how the base worked before letting yourself meet your contractors. Above the training ground, higher up in some kind of level that was used to put away all the training mats and other training things. It was the perfect spot to look over the training grounds, inside of the warehouse. You watched the men fight each other. It was almost entertaining. Your eyes caught the mohawk boy again, teasing another man. The boy with a cap seemed to joyfully indulge in whatever he was saying.
They looked next to them, a big figure stepping into view. You frowned. The man's face was veiled with a mask, a skull… it wasn't printed. Was it a real skull? You put two and two together, now realizing this was the owner of the combat knife. You chuckled to yourself. As he stopped into the training ring, young recruits palling, your interest peaked.
Thirsty minutes passed by in a flash. You watched in amusement and almost in awe how the mountain of a man threw around the soldiers. He was strong. Fast. You could hear him scold every wrong move of the poor soldiers who faced him. He seemed to look around swiftly every time he had a break.
You stretched, feeling your limbs getting sore from sitting here watching the show. You blinked, watching down again, telling yourself that you should get going.
Eyes. Dark eyes. Looking straight at you. Your breath caught in your throat, a cold wave running through you. His gaze was cold looking up through the mask. You immediately rushed back behind something to hide. How? How?! You wore nothing shiny. You made sure that nothing could reflect light. You were hiding perfectly. How?!
You wanted to take another glance but it was too dangerous. You decided to get moving, your position now compromised. You hopped around to reach ground level. You skipped your way into an empty part of the warehouse. You remained as silent as possible, making sure that even your steps were inaudible. After twenty long minutes you allowed yourself to breathe. Maybe he hadn't seen you in the darkness and you were fine. It had been three hours that you were on base, and you were getting slightly hungry. Perhaps you'd get a snack before finally meeting the contractors.
You looked around, trying to figure which way out could lead you to a building where there was food. The empty warehouse only seemed to echo the voices of soldiers outside, barely audible and muffled. You grabbed your phone, walking towards a back door. Maybe you'd get off base to eat and then come back. You were craving pizza, perhaps-
You slammed against a wall. Not exactly a wall. A wall of a man. You looked up. Eyes falling into a skull mask. Shit. Something told you. That playing innocent. Batting your lashes, won't help with this one. You took a step back, his brows furrowing. You both froze for a split second, tension giving you goosebumps before you reacted the only way your brain could at the moment. You ran.
Throughout the warehouse, jumping over gear, boxes and other stuff that you didn't mind to look at. Why were you running? You were supposed to have immunity. But he didn't know who you were. Not yet. The sound of his heavy boots was the only thing you could hear. Shit the man was swift. He was fast and nimble. You parkoured your way to the back door, almost reaching it until you were tackled against a wall. The shock made you wince, cursing out. You were stuck. Stuck in between a wall, and a strong body. Unfortunately you had both run to a dark corner of the warehouse. You could barely see his eyes in the darkness. You were panting.
He shared your gaze. Eyes never leaving yours. The darkness of them made you shiver. It was odd. That tingly feeling all over you. You barely realized how your wrists were pinned above your head, in his large hand. Didn't even notice his other hand… around your throat. He wasn't applying pressure. He was securing you in place, warning you. You were trapped. You have been trapped very often at the beginning of your… career. However, it had never made you feel like this. Small. Hunted. Like a prey under the claws of a predator. There was no ego, no dumb boy trying to prove something. He had chased you down on instinct, caught you in a primal way. Honestly. It was hot. Thrilling.
"Who are you?" His deep voice said.
Shit… even his voice was hot. Putting your new kink aside, you frowned, gaining back some composure.
"Santa Claus." You let out ironically.
The hand around your throat squeezed menacingly. You gasped. He remained silent awaiting your new answer.
"I.. I'm a visitor." You tried, maybe the innocent act would work.
He pulled on your wrists, having you on your toes now. A last warning.
"T..tracker…" you mumbled.
He seemed in thought for a few seconds before releasing the pressure on your neck and wrists, but keeping them in his hold.
"How did you get in?" He questioned.
Ah yes… the usual interrogation.
"The young boys at the entrance are easily distracted…" you mumbled again.
You weren't pissed. You weren't exactly pouting… maybe a bit. You weren't expecting to be caught, or to be put in your place. You weren't expecting to be under someone's hold like this. You looked away.
"You armed?" He asked.
"I have my phone. It's the only weapon I need." You said, keeping the combat knife a little secret. Mostly because you wanted to keep it and he won't let you. He straightened himself, towering over you.
"I'm going to let you go. You better behave." He warned.
God.. you wanted to brat. You wanted to anger him and test him. You rolled your eyes at him, as the hand holding your wrists released. However the other remained on your throat. You frowned looking up at him, as your hands wrapped around his wrist. He stepped closer to you, eyes never leaving yours. Now what was he doing? He said he was letting you go…
Eyes widening, you felt the other hand roam your waist. You tried to push him away but he squeezed at your throat keeping you in place, your hands flying to his chest to fist in shirt. The hand traveled to your sides, down your back, then back to your side to finally reach your thighs.
"S..stop!" You let out, blushing.
"Breathe… I'm checking for weapons." He said in a chuckle.
He frowned, his hand meeting the handle of… shit. The combat knife was tucked into the back of your shorts, hidden by your shirt. You closed your eyes as he pulled it out.
"No weapons huh? You're already-" he stopped looking at the handle. "That's my fucking knife. You stole it?"
"I borrowed it. Sharing is caring right? We're on the same team…" you answered with a smile.
He put away his knife before spinning you around, bringing your back to his chest. How the hell did he move so fast?! How did he manage to pin your wrists behind you… and HANDCUFF YOU?
"Hey! Where's my immunity?" You complained.
"I'm not arresting you."
"You're handcuffing me to satisfy a kink?" You teased him in a bitter tone.
"I'm keeping you from stealing again. And I'm taking you to Price."
"Who?"
No answer, he simply pulled you forward, holding your wrists behind your back. Well. Wasn't this the perfect start to a contract?
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kurokonoboisket · 2 months
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Knb Airplane headcanons
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Awakening from my eternal slumber to drop this post.
Kagami:
He puts his headphones in the minute he arrives at the airport and he doesn’t take them off until he lands (except for the safety demonstration he’s not going to be RUDE)
He listens to music and probably daydreams about basketball or something.
Absolutely did not bring enough clothes and he’ll be wearing the same shirt all week.
He brought one carryon and half of it is filled with plane snacks. But he wasn’t about to check a bag for an extra 30 dollars don’t be ridiculous.
He prefers the aisle seat for the leg room and a quick escape to the bathroom.
Gets up to pee a minimum of 3 times.
But he helped an old lady put her luggage in the overhead compartment.
Kuroko:
Got lost looking for his gate.
He does flights completely raw. No music. No games. No movies. No reading. Just vacant dissociation. He sits there and stares at the little plane on the tv on the seat in front of him for 4 hours.
He is absolutely getting stuck in the middle seat.
Sometimes he will watch the movies on other people’s screens but he will never watch his own.
The flight attendant forgot to ask him if he wanted a complimentary sack :(
But it’s okay he bought a little baked treat at the coffee shop in the airport .
Probably reads the safety pamphlet.
Kise:
Dressed to impress. He is looking for his airport crush.
The flight attendants have to body slam his suitcase into the overhead compartment because it’s way too big but he gets away with it.
Makes small talk with the person sitting next to him.
Window seat princess.
Has at least 3 screens open. He’s got a movie playing on the seat in front of him, he’s got his laptop open and he is also on his phone.
Goes full iPad kid.
Midorima:
Shows up the the airport 3 hours early.
Brings a months worth of luggage for a 3 day trip.
A nervous flyer, he sits the and white knuckles the arm rests the entire flight.
He does not fly on unlucky days.
He sits there and plays sudoku the entire flight. Not even on his phone either, he has a printed book of sudoku puzzles.
He’s that guy who turns on his reading light when the entire rest of the plane is dark.
He sits in the aisle and gets annoyed every time someone gets up to use the bathroom because he’s a little hater.
Aomine:
He thinks he wants the window seat but then he spends the entire flight complaining that he doesn’t have enough leg room.
Watches movies on the plane but he doesn’t have any shame for what movie it is.
Takes his headphones out when the flight attendant tells him to for the safety demonstration and then blatantly puts them right back in after they leave.
Whole heartedly believes that if something happened to the pilot, he could land the plane.
Momoi:
She probably was also a little late but it’s Aomine’s fault somehow.
She stops and gets a fun little drink after security and then goes and watches the planes take off.
Also if she is not flying then she is tracking everybody’s flights like a dad.
She starts out in the aisle seat but switches with Aomine half way through because he won’t stop complaining about not having enough leg room.
She listens to music and plays games on her phone.
Absolutely annihilating like 200 levels of wordscapes.
If she knows them, she will force the person beside her to play her phone game with her.
Murasakibara:
Chronic man-spreader.
Showed up to the airport 15 minutes before boarding, took his sweet time getting to the gate, stopped for food but somehow still made it on time.
Puts on a movie but then falls asleep the entire flight.
Armrest hog send this man to jail.
Asks the flight attendant for an extra snack.
Aisle seat for sure he wouldn’t survive the middle seat.
Akashi:
He is flying business class.
And he is wearing his Sunday best.
Arrives punctually, has a drink and a snack in the business class lounge before hand.
He probably also makes small talk with the person sitting next to him (Just to see if he can)
During the flight he mostly reads.
But he usually picks the window seat so he can look out the window (and plot)
Sometimes he will pull out his laptop and do work on the plane
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therand0mwriter · 4 months
Text
FRIENDS-They All Know
OHSHC x Female!reader
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[Unedited]
*3rd Person POV*
"Hello? I'm here to drop off the desserts!" (Y/N) called out as she entered music room 3, the room the Ouran high school host club uses. Kyoya stepped away from his laptop and made his way to the girl, "You're right on time." (Y/N) smiled at the ravenette, "Kyoya!"
Kyoya's heart skipped a beat and he fondly smiled at the girl. "Can you hold open the door for me as I bring in the carts?" She asked. "Of course," He said, doing as he was asked. (Y/N) pushed in a cart full of cakes and cupcakes, then Aiko came into view, also pushing a cart. "Ah, miss Takai, I didn't expect to see you. How are you doing?" Kyoya kindly asked the girl, putting on his host face. The bubbly girl giggled and smiled, "(Y/N) needed help bringing the carts and Murasaki couldn't miss her fencing club, so I'm here! Just for a moment though." Aiko explained.
She then looked around the room as (Y/N) brought in the 3rd cart, "Where is Honey-senpai?" Kyoya quickly put the pieces together about her crush on Honey, "Everyone is getting changed for our theme today." "Ooo, what are you guys wearing?" Aiko excitedly leaned towards Kyoya, said male sweat dropping at her close proximity. "Kimonos," He replied, thankful that the girl pulled away as she squealed in excitement.
"Alright, Aiko. I got the rest of the carts in." (Y/N) came up to the two. "What?! Already? I'm sorry, I got distracted thinking about how cute Honey-senpai is while wearing a kimono!" Aiko had hearts in her eyes as she daydreamed. (Y/N) fondly chuckled at the girl, "Daydream about him on your way back to class." "Okay! See you tomorrow, (Y/N)!" Aiko waved as she left.
Kyoya made his way over to the carts (Y/N) aligned and took in the desserts, "Everything looks amazing, as always." (Y/N) gently rolled her eyes whilst a small smile was on her lips, "You always say that." "Because it's true." Kyoya retorted. "I hope we're not causing you too much trouble with our orders." He added. "Oh no no," (Y/N) waved her hands in front of her, "You guys have helped me! Since you're ordering from us our club isn't getting shut down! Though I did hear through the grapevine that isn't the main reason why my club is staying... it's because two fellow students of high stature demanded that we stay. And I have a feeling those two students were you and Suoh."
"Are you asking or telling?" Was Kyoya's response. The sly smile on his face told her everything. She mischievously smiled, letting out a: "Hm." In response before heading to the door to leave. She opened the door and turned to Kyoya, "Same time tomorrow?"
"Same time tomorrow."
*Time Skip*
The end of the day finally arrived and Kyoya was tired. Dealing with Renge took a lot out of him. He wondered if (Y/N) was still at the school, wanting to see her.
Kyoya📓✍️🏻
Are you still at school? If so, where?
(Y/N)💛
I just got to the entrance
Why?
Kyoya📓✍️🏻
Wait for me
The girl did just that, taking a seat on the school steps and soaking in the evening sun. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath as a cool breeze blew by her, making petals of nearby trees and flowers dance around her.
Kyoya exited the school and paused. In front of him was... art. That was the first word that came to his head when he saw her: art. The way she absorbed the light and the light absorbed her was breathtaking. The way the petals danced around her entire being was enchanting.
Kyoya felt a small smile grow on his lips, happy that he was the only one to see (Y/N) like this. He approached her, "You're stunning. You know that, right?" (Y/N) slightly jolted at his sudden presence. She turned to see the dark-haired boy and smiled, "I could say the same thing about you." The sun lightly dusting Kyoya's side, his now soft looking eyes, and gentle smile would make anyone stop and do a double take.
(Y/N) stood to meet Kyoya, "What did you want to talk about?" Kyoya sighed, remembering today's earlier events, "Apparently the host club might have a manager by tomorrow." (Y/N)'s eyebrows furrowed in confusion, "What do you mean?" Kyoya gestured for them to start walking as he started to explain, "Renge Houshakuji, the only daughter of an Ootori family client, flew in from Paris to become a student of Ouran."
The two students arrived at Kyoya's car and the chauffeur opened the door for them, greeting them individually, "Good evening Mr. Ootori. Ms. (L/N), it's good to see you again." (Y/N) smiled, "Mr. Amaya, it's been too long! I hope your family is doing well." The older man brightly smiled, "They're doing amazing! My son just won his first championship in baseball! I know it's only middle school, but still! I swear, he'll become a pro-athlete one day!" (Y/N) softly clapped, "Wow! That's still amazing either way! Congratulations!"
Mr. Amaya leaned in with a grin and whispered, "And guess what?" (Y/N) also leaned in and whispered back, "What?" Amaya stood up straight and tall, practically glowing, "Me and my wife are expecting!" Both (Y/N)'s and Kyoya's eyes went wide, "What?! No way! On my gosh! That's amazing! I'm so happy for you two!" She leaned in and gave Amaya a hug, "Do you know if it's a boy or a girl yet?" They pulled away and Amaya shook his head, "Not yet, but when we find out, I'll let you know! Between you and me, I'm hoping it's a girl!"
"Amaya," Kyoya called out. "Why haven't you told me this yet?" Amaya rubbed the back of his head nervously, "I just never found the right time, Mr. Ootori. You always seem so busy, I didn't want to distract you." "I'm sorry I seem like you can't tell me things. Please, from now on, don't refrain from telling me about your achievements." Kyoya said, soft smile on his face. Amaya beamed, "Will do, Mr. Ootori!"
Kyoya gestured for (Y/N) to enter the car and she did, Kyoya following after her. Mr. Amaya closed the car door and entered the driver's seat, turning on the vehicle and driving away. "Where was I?" Kyoya questions. "Renge Houshakuji." (Y/N) responded. "Ah, that's right." Kyoya pushed up his glasses and continued explaining, "Towards the end of the club, Renge arrived and pretty much declared her love for me." (Y/N) raised an eyebrow in interest, "Oh really? What did she say?" 
"She assumed we're engaged." Kyoya said, slightly grimacing at the memory. (Y/N) chuckled, "Congratulations?" The ravenette male glared at the girl next to him. (Y/N) openly laughed at his response, "Alright, all jokes aside, why does she believe you're engaged?" Kyoya pinched the bridge of his nose, "She thinks I'm exactly like this character from an otome game she plays. She's apparently obsessed with him."
"Well, it definitely sounds like you had an interesting day." (Y/N) commented, an amused look on her face. "Tell me about it... But a part of me curious to see where things go." Kyoya said, ending with a thoughtful hum and his hand on his chin. "We're here, Miss (L/N)." Amaya suddenly calls, putting the limo in park. Kyoya got out first and held the door open for the girl. "Let me know how things go tomorrow, I'm invested now." (Y/N) said with a giggle. Kyoya fondly smiled at the girl, "Of course, anything for you." 
(Y/N) leaned down to the door opening and waved at Amaya, "Goodbye, Mr. Amaya! I hope your wife has an easy birth!" Amaya gave a large grin, "Thank you, Miss! I appreciate it! Take care!" (Y/N) leaned back up and looked towards Kyoya, "Thank you for taking me home, I'll see you tomorrow?" The young male nodded, "I'll see you tomorrow, (Y/N)." Before said girl turned to leave, she paused, staring at Kyoya. He gave her a questioning look, and she gave him a large grin, slightly jumping to give him a hug. They stumbled at first, the hug catching Kyoya by surprise before he was able to stable them. Her arms were wrapped around his neck, her face buried in his shoulder. His arms were wrapped around her waist, and eventually, he buried his face into her hair.
After a good five second squeeze from (Y/N), she pulled away, the faintest trail of blush on her cheeks. She smiled once more, "Bye, Kyoya." She then turned and left, leaving a faint smell of vanilla and chocolate in her wake. Kyoya stood in place for a moment, trying to engrave everything he could about the moment he just had with his dream girl onto his mind. When he was ready, he re-entered the limo. As Amaya was pulling away from the (L/N) residence, he looked into his rearview mirror and saw an absolutely lovesick boy. Kyoya's eyes were half lidded and had a far away look, his cheeks and ears were a bright red. "Ah... he reminds me of when I met my wife.' Amaya wistfully thought.
The driver then cleared his throat, gaining Kyoya's attention, "Miss (L/N) is a lovely girl, huh?" Kyoya hummed and looked out the window, "Yes... she is." He placed his hand over his mouth in a nonchalant manner, but hiding underneath was a loving smile.
*Time Skip, Next Day*
Kyoya📓✍️🏻
We'll be outside in the main courtyard today. There's a giant camera crew so we'll be hard to miss.
(Y/N)💛
Got it👍we'll be there soon!
(Y/N), Aiko, and Murasaki arrived at the courtyard with silver carts containing drinks, and homemade sandwiches and desserts. "(Y/N)-senpai! Over here!" Hikaru and Kaoru called simultaneously. The girl smiled and gestured to the twins, "Come on girls, this way." Aiko and Murasaki followed their president to the Hitachiian twins, still pushing their carts.
When the three girls made it to Hikaru and Kaoru, they noticed that the boys were in basketball uniforms. "What's with all this?" (Y/N) questioned, referring to the camera crew and the boys new look. "Oh, this?" The twins started. "This is all our new managers doing," Hikaru started. "She thinks we need a movie about our 'new roles'." Kaoru finished. "We're basketball players 'enslaved enslaved in or own world', Honey-senpai is a 'baby faced thug', Mori-senpai is his 'childhood friend that's a flunkie', Haruhi is an 'honor student that's constantly being bullied', and Tamaki-senpai is the 'schools idol that has an inferiority complex'. I believe her exact words were: 'the lonely prince'." Hikaru and Kaoru explained together, their tone showing that they weren't that amused.
"Honey-senpai!? A thug?! I don't know whether to be excited or sad!" Aiko shouted in a mix of distress and excitement. "What about Kyoya?" Murasaki spoke up. The twins shrugged, "She said he's perfect just the way he is." (Y/N) chuckled, "Well here, we brought snacks. And make sure to stay hydrated." She then handed the twins each a water bottle. Hikaru and Kaoru smirked, "Oh (Y/N), you're so sweet to us, can't we take you home with us?" (Y/N) smiled at the two and simply stated, "No." The twins pouted, "Oh, boo. You're no fun." The girl raised an eyebrow at the two boys, "Then why are you friends with me?"
Hikaru and Kaoru opened their mouths to give a teasing comeback but was interrupted by Aiko, "I'm so sorry but me and Murasaki have to get to go now." Murasaki nodded, "I have to get to my fencing club." "And I have to get to my art club!" Aiko added. (Y/N) nodded in understanding, "Get there safely. And thank you for taking the time to help me transport the carts." Aiko gave a large smile, hooking her arm with Murasaki's, "We will! Tell Honey-senpai and Kyoya-senpai that we said hi and we're sorry we couldn't properly greet them!" The two girls waved goodbye, disappearing around the corner.
Hikaru and Kaoru gave (Y/N) a questioning look, "I thought they were in the baking club with you?" The girl nodded, "They are, but they're in other clubs too. They won't admit it, but I know they joined the baking club as an afterthought." She sent a very small sad, but also grateful, smile towards the place she last saw her club mates. Hikaru and Kaoru looked to each other out of the corner of their eyes and instantly knew what the other was thinking. In sync, they each took ahold of one of (Y/N)'s hands, gaining her attention again. "Worst case scenario," Hikaru started. "And they leave your club," Kaoru continued. "We'll quit the host club and join yours." The twins finished together, bringing (Y/N)'s hands up to their cheeks.
(Y/N)'s eyes went wide at the twins sudden offer, but then she fondly smiled at the two. She flipped her hands so she was now cupping their cheeks, "Oh, my kohais..." She started, her tone as fond as her smile. The way she was looking at Hikaru and Kaoru was driving them insane, making them eager to hear the rest of her words. "I can't have you do that, I would feel too guilty." The twins frowned and opened their mouths to protest but was cut off by their senpai. "But," (Y/N) started. "If you ever have any free time, you are still more than welcomed to come and join me." The twins gave a loving smile to the girl in front of them, nuzzling their faces into her hands and simultaneously responded, "We know."
Just then, a shout and loud clanging rang out, making the three jump in surprise. "What was that?" (Y/N) rhetorically asked, looking around along with the twins. At the same time, the three of them saw Tamaki run to a corner of the school. None of them could hear what Tamaki said, but when they saw his look of concern turn into one of anger, they knew something was wrong. Tamaki then ran and disappeared around the corner. "Suoh!"(Y/N) called out as the twins jumped from their seats. "Come on!" Hikaru and Kaoru shouted, running to where they last saw the blonde male, (Y/N) following suit.
The three teens peeked around the corner to see Tamaki cupping Haruhi's cheeks, concern written on his face, "Haruhi, are you in any pain?" Haruhi was rubbing his eye when he responded, "Yeah." Haruhi then pulled his hand away from his face to show something on his index finger, "It's my contact." Tamaki jolted in surprise, "Your... contact?" "Yeah," Haruhi nonchalantly started. "I guess it must have slipped out." Tamaki started laughing once he realized Haruhi was uninjured, "I see how it is! You're able to cry without using eye drops! So you're a full-fledged host now!"
(Y/N), Hikaru, and Kaoru all let out a quiet sigh of relief that nothing too bad happened. "You... you..." A female voice then gained everyone's attention. (Y/N) turned to see a girl with ivory skin, wide brown eyes, long golden brown hair, and a dark pink bow sitting atop of her head. "Please tell me you got that, cameraman!" The girl shouted, pointing at four male adults with film equipment sitting behind her. 'Ah, that must be Renge Houshakuji.' (Y/N) thought to herself. "Yes, boss!" One of the adults shouted back at Renge. "Other than Haruhi's contact falling out, that was an ideal final scene! All it needs now is a moving narration by my sweet Kyoya!" Immediately after Renge finished her spiel,  loud sound of glass breaking rang out throughout he area. 
Almost everyone jumped in surprise, looking to see what the cause of the sound was. Kyoya stood next to the, now broken, camera with a  rock in his hand. "No! What'd you do to my camera?!" The cameraman screamed in distress. Renge had a look of shock and meekly asked Kyoya, "What? Is something wrong?"
"I'm terribly sorry but I cannot allow there to be any record of a club member engaging in violence. I think you've caused enough trouble around here, Renge. Please stop being such a pest." Despite his, somewhat, kind words, Kyoya's tone was deadly serious. "'A pest'?" Renge repeated, tears immediately falling down her cheeks. "But you're supposed to pat me on the head and tell me not to worry! You're supposed to be kind and affectionate, Kyoya!" Renge sobbed. "Why are you acting so differently now?! Tell me why!"
"Because that's not the real Kyoya." Tamaki's sudden words caused Renge to pause her crying. She turned to Tamaki, a confused look on her face. She then fell to her knees and continued crying. Haruhi stepped towards the sobbing girl, "Does it really matter?" Renge looked up to the brunette as he squatted down to her level, "Who cares if Kyoya is a little different than you expected him to be? Take a good look at the person inside and get to know him little-by-little. It's a lot more fun that way." Haruhi ended with a smile. Renge stared at him, taking in his words and calming down.
"Wow... it feels like I'm watching a drama." (Y/N) whispered to the twins, them nodding in agreement. The three of them pulled back from the corner. "I'm glad no one was hurt. Well, physically at least." (Y/N) said, slightly sweat-dropping at the memory of Renge getting her heart broken. "(Y/N)-chan!" A sweet voice suddenly called out. Said girl and the twins turn and see Honey and Mori making their way towards them. "I didn't know you were here! It's so good to see you again!" Honey cheered, jumping into (Y/N)'s arms for a hug. (Y/N) laughed, hugging him back, "It's good to see you too, Honey-senpai!" When Honey separated himself from the girl, Mori came up and caressed (Y/N)'s hair in a greeting. She largely smiled at her tall upperclassman, "It's good to see you also, Mori-senpai!" The male smiled at his underclassman with fondness.
From the sidelines, Hikaru and Kaoru did not like how friendly Honey and Mori were being with their senpai. "Hey... how do you three know each other?" Hikaru and Kaoru asked, slightly on edge. The twins senpai's turned their attention to them. "Oh, we met last year, around the time I was starting up my baking club." (Y/N) stated while a smile grew on her face at he memory. Honey joyously laughed, "Yup! We've been friends ever since!" Mori nodded in agreement. The twins were not happy that Mori and Honey knew (Y/N) longer than they have, they thought they had her all to themselves.
"(Y/N), you're still here." A new voice suddenly said, gaining the five teens attention. Kyoya had just come around the corner and was surprised to see (Y/N) along with most of his club members. As he walked up to the group, she happily called out to him, "Kyoya!" Kyoya noticed how the four males surrounding her tensed up at her sudden greeting towards him. Kyoya was happy with how she called out for him, but the male was mostly feeling dread. "I'm happy to see you, but what are you still doing here? I thought you would have left as soon as you dropped off the food." Kyoya questioned, watching the other four males out of the corner of his eyes. "Well when I dropped off the carts, me and Hikaru and Kaoru started chatting. Then we heard the commotion with Houshakuji, Suoh, and Fujioka. Afterwards, Honey-senpai and Mori-senpai came and greeted me. And now were here." (Y/N) smiled and shrugged.
Hikaru and Kaoru growled under their breaths before they shouted, "Oh great! How do you two know each other?" (Y/N) gave raised her eyebrow at the twins, confused at their sudden sour tone, "We met last year in class, right after I started my club." Honey and Mori lightly frowned when they realized that their favorite kohai wasn't close with just them, but with other members of their club. Hikaru and Kaoru gritted their teeth in irritation, "Why has everyone known you longer than us?!" Honey then piped up, "Wait, Hikaru, Kaoru, are you friends with (Y/N) too?" Kyoya and the twins didn't miss how Honey didn't call Hikaru and Kaoru: 'Hika-chan and Kao-chan'. "Of course we're friends with her! We've been friends since last year! She's our senpai!" The twins shouted, getting frustrated at the thought of sharing their favorite person with others.
The twins rising emotions started to affect everyone. Honey shouted with a stutter, "Y-Yeah, w-well she's mine and Takashi's kohai!" (Y/N) turned her confused look from the twins to her senpais, "H-Huh?" She then did a double take when Kyoya also stepped forward with a glare, "She's my equal, we share classes together, unlike you four." (Y/N)'s head was spinning. 'W-What's going on?!' She worriedly thought, panic surging through her.
"Will you all calm down?!" The six teens turn to see Tamaki and Haruhi, Tamaki's hands on his hips and Haruhi's arms crossed. Tamaki was the first one to call out, Haruhi then adding on, "Yeah, (L/N)-senpai doesn't belong to any of you! Can't you see that all your arguing is making her uncomfortable?!" The five boys paused and looked to (Y/N), and sure enough, her face was contorted into one of pure disconcertment. Instantly, the five males felt remorseful at how their arguing affected their favorite girl.
Honey was the first to speak up, tears brimming his eyes, "I'm sorry, (Y/N)-chan." Mori grunted in agreement, "I'm sorry." Hikaru and Kaoru nodded, "We're sorry, (Y/N)-senpai." Kyoya clenched his fists, upset with himself, "I apologize, (Y/N)." The girl took in the five teens expressions. She could clearly see and feel the guilt emanating from them. (Y/N) sighed then smiled, "I can't be upset with you all. I forgive you." The five hosts started to smile in relief but paused when the girl raised her index finger, "But! Under one condition: please, don't fight again."
The five males all made eye contact and realized something: they all have romantic feelings for the same girl, and they all want her to be happy. So, in the end, the five of them made a mental agreement: let's get along, for her sake. The five teens nodded and smiled at the girl. 
One thing they all secretly thought to themselves, though, was: 'Just because I have to get along with everyone else, doesn't mean I can't try to win her over, now that I have competition'.
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run2yoongi · 1 year
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puppy love | jjk + kth x reader. ch.3
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you’d met jeon jungkook and his best friend kim taehyung in your first year at university. it didn’t take long for you to fall for jungkook, however it was clear that he was less than interested in romance. you pushed down the frustration and jealousy when jungkook talks about his weekend exploits and dating app matches, telling yourself that being friends with benefits was better than being nothing at all. you didn’t expect that one of the benefits of your arrangement with jungkook would be his best friend, taehyung.
↳ pairing: fuckboy!jungkook x reader, taehyung x reader
↳ setting: college au
↳ warnings: 18+. explicit sexual content, fr this is pure smut, no plot this chapter lol poor taehyung, pwp, oral (f rec), fingering, penetrative sex, teasing, begging, biting, pet names.
↳ side note: word count is 3.6k. ahh! you all don’t know how happy it makes me that people are liking these chapters :)) thank u to everyone who rb’s, u are the cause of my euphoriaaAAA heyYyeeaahhH. also how good is Indigo!!! lmk ur fav track off the album :*
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you were chewing on the side of your mouth when your phone buzzed you out of your daze, snapping you back into your place in the university library. you didn’t know how long you’d been daydreaming, but you noted that the sun had just begun to set. 
you glanced over to the instagram notification, catching the username @jungkook.97. you picked up your phone to investigate. he’d replied to your story, an admittedly cute selfie of you completely surrounded by textbooks and revision notes at your desk. 
jungkook.97: nerd. when do you finish?
that was indeed, a good question. recently, you’d been staying at the library with taehyung until it closed at 9pm. however tonight, taehyung had been roped into some dance workshop with jimin. the invite had been extended to you, however, no matter how much you’d love to see those two covered with a thick sheen of sweat under studio lights, you’d declined. you weren’t too enthusiastic to embarrass yourself in front of either of them. 
y/n: about to leave, what’s up? 
you locked your phone and discarded it to the side as you began packing up your notes, cursing yourself for bringing so many study materials when you’d barely gotten through half. you fished through your bag to find your earphones before they became buried under your laptop and textbooks. 
jungkook.97: sent a photo. 
that piqued your interest. after glancing over your shoulder to make sure the coast was clear in case it was an indecent image, you tapped on the message. you smile grew on your lips at the photo of jungkook at the uni gym in a thin oversized tee and basketball shorts. your eyes darted over to the text typed over his torso. 
meet me outside mine in 10? 
with a visual aid like that, how could you refuse? you pressed your earphones into your ears and swiped up to open your playlist, determined to make him wait a little bit for your reply. you ambled over to the elevator, a dumb grin stretching further over your lips. after you picked up a chilled aloe drink from the vending machine on your way out, you finally typed your reply. 
see you then
the summer heat washed over you with a sickly sweet aroma hanging in the thick air. you’d nearly finished your drink by the time you found yourself outside of the male dorms, placing your weighty bag on the gravel between your feet as you waited for jungkook to find you. you’d only been waiting a minute before a tattooed hand swiftly picked up the bag from between your legs with an overdramatic groan at its heft. 
“didn’t realise i was in for another workout.” jungkook grinned at you, the gentle golden sunlight dancing across his warm eyes in a way that made your heart skip a beat as you gazed up at him. a trick of the light made the burnt orange sky in contrast to his dark hair seem like a god given halo. he looked deceptively angelic, you thought. “you should know better than that by now.” you scolded, tucking your earphones away as you followed behind him. he escorted you through the empty common areas and into the elevator. 
he wrapped his arm over your shoulders as the doors closed in front of you, leaning in to taunt you with the closeness of his lips to yours. you could smell the delightful mix of his cologne, body wash and the faint scent of sweat. it was intoxicating in the tiny elevator, clouding your senses in your post-study haze.
too soon, the elevator doors opened to jungkook’s floor. he guided you out, your bag hooked over his shoulder until it hit the hardwood floor of his room. with a soft beep, the air conditioner turned on providing a wash of relief over your warmed skin. “just gonna shower quickly,” he muttered, tossing his shirt over his head and onto the floor as he sauntered into the bathroom. you averted your eyes from his torso, focusing on his neatly made bed in front of you. you’d seen him in worse states of undress, but his immaculate body still made you nervous. 
your head rested on his pillow as you brought your phone up to your face, tapping through instagram stories while you waited to hear the shower turn on. jimin’s story caught your eye, tapping over it to replay it again and again. to your delight, you didn’t need to attend the dance workshop to see what you’d been hoping to. the drumming of the shower drowned out the sound of your surprised hum.
the recording began with jimin darting back from the phone as he placed it against the studio mirror, revealing a lingering taehyung as the familiar beat blared over the speakers. they moved in sync, skin glistening under the warm lighting. it always impressed you how well they moved, how comfortable they were with each other. your eyes fixed onto taehyung, who bit his lip as he gyrated on beat. a charming habit you’d picked up on as you’d religiously watched these weekly stories. your mind drifted back to that night you’d gone out together. his hand on your knee, playful eyes boring into yours as he spoke in the summer heat. he’d always felt so far out of your reach, just a kind senior student who took pity on a struggling friend-of-a-friend. but as you rewatched the minute long video, you began to wonder if that was really the case. after all, jungkook had seemed to think it was plausible when he’d been spanking you over just getting drinks with him. 
you shook the thought of your head, exiting out of the story with a sigh. you couldn’t. he was off-limits. you couldn’t be friends with benefits with your friends with benefits’ best friend. jungkook had clearly been disturbed at the thought as he’d not-so-delicately explained. you scrolled through your phone, switching from app to app as your patience with jungkook grew shorter. the gentle ambience of the shower was cut short as you glanced over to the bathroom door that was left cocked open. from the gap between the door and it’s frame, you saw jungkook’s reflection on the steamed glass, his lightly tanned skin and mass of dark hair catching your eye. 
when he emerged from the bathroom in a cloud of steam with just a towel wrapped around his broad shoulders soaking up the droplets falling from his hair, you swore you could have died right there on his bed. “try to keep your eyes inside your head, baby.” he chuckled, seeing straight through your feigned collected composure. the fruity vanilla scent of his shampoo drifted over you as he sauntered closer, you tried to keep your eyes on his face and away from his…
he lazily placed his palms on either side of your head, a defined smirk tugging on his lips. “what’s got you all worked up, pup?” he teased cockily, knowing full well the effect he had on you. you had to bite back that jimin and tae’s dance video was working to get you as wound up as much as he was. “cat got your tongue?” he chided, filling the silence that lingered in his small room. “nothing i haven’t seen before, ‘koo.” you replied coyly, staring back into his darkening eyes. his eyes focused on your parted lips, before he began teasing your shirt up to your chest. his lips surrounded yours in a rough kiss, then he lowered himself down to press a trail of softer kisses from your lower stomach up to your breasts. he took a moment to unbutton your thin blouse and revel the way your tits sat round and full in your plain black bra. 
you helped him unbuckle the bra’s clasp, eager to feel his mouth on you once more. “so fucking sweet,” he sighed as his tongue slid across the surface of your skin. he took his mouth over your nipple, flicking it taut with his tongue as his palm teased and toyed with the other. you stared at his veiny, tattooed hand and let out a soft moan at his touch. he kissed his way up your neck, to your jaw and finally licked the shell of your ear, sending a fierce wave of lighting through you to your fingertips. he was too good, too practised. 
you felt the weight of his thick cock bob against your thigh, and cast your gaze down to appreciate the smooth, pink appearance of its tip. “is that what you want?” he whispered, his lips still pressed against your ear, granting a shiver down your spine and agitating your core. “you want it here?” he brushed his fingers against the fabric of your underwear, your skirt doing too little to hide your arousal. you nodded, looking back up to him as his tongue toyed with his lip ring. “tell me what you want, pup.” he smirked again as his mouth drifted from your ear to your jaw. you felt him all over you, the heat of the shower radiating off his skin and on to yours. you felt so dirty by comparison, feeling your essence pool between your legs. 
“i want you,” you whispered, hushed and breathless. jungkook flashed his eyes at you, expectantly. “i need to feel you in me, please jungkook.” you spoke up, batting your eyes at him. if he wanted you to beg, you’d beg. he gave you a satisfied smile and placed another kiss on each of your nipples, licking at them before lowering himself further. “you need to feel what in you?” he teased, spreading your thighs with his palms.”my fingers? my cock? my tongue?” 
you whimpered, his words lighting your insides on fire. you wanted to rub your thighs together in a desperate attempt to create friction, but he held them apart- his cheek resting lazily on the plush inside of your soft thigh.  “please,” you begged, pleading eyes desperately trying to reach his. his fingers looped around the thin fabric that pressed into your hip and dragged your underwear down, excruciatingly slow. “do you deserve it, puppy?” he asked, raising a mocking eyebrow at you. so cruel, you thought. “you been a good girl today?” 
you nodded your head, exasperated. you attempted to buck your hips, unable to stay still under the pressure he was placing on you. “s’ good.” you cried out, desperate for more. as your panties were discarded to the side, he licked his lips, teasing you further. “look at that, i’ve barely even touched you.” he sneered, his finger sliding in a quick stripe across your damp center. you saw the glistening fluid on his finger as he brought it up to his lips and placed it on his tongue. “please, koo’.” you begged again, frustrated by the restraint he had over your thighs. 
“okay, okay.” he sighed, generously placing his finger back on your core. you grinded against his digit, needing much more than that. the cool air of his room made the absence of his warmth on your skin all the more apparent, and you let out another desperate whine. he grinned up at you, a devious glint in his eye. before you could anticipate it, he gave you a hard swat on your clit making your walls pulse at his touch. you cried out, again. he loved teasing you like this, making you beg, watching you crumble. he rubbed the spot that he’d slapped, spreading your essence over your clit and chuckled as you writhed. “so good for me,” he grinned. “what should your reward be, puppy?” 
he brought his tongue to meet his fingers, licking a slow, languid stroke over your arousal, pooling onto his muscle. he withdrew his face and glanced back up at you. “cumming once? maybe twice?” he pretended to think it over. “maybe we’ll just see how many times you’re capable of.” 
you moaned. he wasn’t even touching you, and you still moaned. his sadistic grin turned into a smirk as he placed his tongue and fingers back on you. you grinded against his tongue, needy and desperate for more stimulation. you hitched your skirt up further, the only remaining piece of clothing you had to cover yourself with. his tongue plunged past your folds, searching for something deeper and deeper into you. you felt your coil growing tighter and tighter, ready to snap at a moment's notice. his long fingers circled your clit, spreading your liquid all over your core and trailing down from his lips. 
you tried to fight off your orgasm, eager to make the building sensation last. but it was no use, when his fingers joined his tongue deep inside you- you snapped. you slammed your eyes shut, hips rolling with the waves of your orgasm as you came. jungkook’s tongue on you didn’t stop, he kept licking you as you threw your head back. your toes curled as your uninhibited moan rang through the dorm, certain that half the floor could hear it. when jungkook continued his calculated attack on you, you pressed your palm to his forehead- trying to push him away. he just looked up at you from between your legs innocently, his chin coated with your sheen, lips puffy and glossed. 
“that was a good start, pup.” he spoke through his grin, his fingers still dancing over your clit, causing you to jolt every time they pass your bundle of nerves. his new nickname for you rang inside your head, vacant of all other thoughts. “jungkook, please.” you begged, uncertain what you were even asking for. “you need more?” he asked, wiping the juices on his mouth on the back of his veiny hand as he crawled on top of you. his length twitched against your cunt and you knew he wanted it just as badly as you did, despite his tone. 
he reached over to his bedside table and grabbed a condom from the basket in his drawer. you tried not to break your immersion as he used his teeth to tear the packet open and stuck out his hand, gesturing for you to lean closer. “wet it for me, baby.” he instructed, eyes trained on your mouth. you propped yourself up and licked your hand, saturating it with thick pools your spit before placing it on his hard, throbbing cock. he hissed quietly at your touch, a familiar bead of precum forming as your stroked your spit onto him. 
after he was satisfied, he rolled the condom on and lined himself up with your aching core. he slipped his cock over your clit, poking and rubbing it with his tip sending a bolt of electricity through your legs again. you wrapped them around his hips, pulling him closer to you as strands of his soft, dark hair fell from where they were tucked behind his ears. the familiar scent of his shampoo washed over you once again, and you relished in the sensory comfort it provided you. 
his length pushed past your folds, slowly rubbing against your walls as you fought to adjust. the stretch temporarily blinded you with pleasure, incoherent mumblings falling from your lips as he finally filled you. “let me know when you’re ready.” he whispered, pressing his forehead against your own. you were so full, so blissed out and ready to take whatever he gave you. your legs fell from their grip around him as he pushed your legs up closer to your chest. you took a deep breath and opened your eyes, steadily nodding at him. he placed his palm firmly on your knee and began to push in deeper, taking your breath away from you. as you gasped in for air to fill your lungs, your mind flashed back to taehyung- his warm hand on your knee, his eyes, his lips, that video. 
what the fuck?
you widened your eyes at the revelation, guilt sweeping over you for an unclear reason. jungkook’s eyes were pressed shut as he unsheathed his cock from you before guiding it back in, making you moan in ecstasy. you kept your eyes open and focused on the man on top of you, making sure your mind didn’t wander where it wasn’t allowed. “look at me,” you whined, needing his attention desperately to bring you back to reality. his eyes shot open, and his mouth pressed itsself against yours once again. he broke the kiss and looked your body over. from your lips to where the two of you connected, he was transfixed. 
“roll over, pup.” he instructed, trying to hide the smirk that was forming at the fitting nickname he’d given you. he pulled out of you and helped you onto your stomach, pulling your hips upwards so your ass was presented in front of him, for him. you felt his teeth nip at your flesh as his hand stroked your damp core from his position in between your legs. you heard him adjust on the bed and felt his cock line up with your centre once again. you lifted one of your legs up, flat against the bed, parallel with the wall his bed was set against. 
he breached your walls again, rubbing himself against your velvety insides. “play with yourself, baby.” you obeyed, stretching your hand underneath you to circle around your nerves as he thrust into you. he panted over you, letting out exasperated groans and grabbing at the flesh of your ass as he fucked you dumb. you couldn’t take much more, still sensitive from your first orgasm with your second quickly approaching. 
“fuck i can feel you,” he hissed as you twitched and pulsated around his cock. the sound, scent and feeling of him completely engulfed you, and the rub of the mattress massaging your breasts with his thrusts sent you over the edge. you let out another unrestrained moan, a mixture of your essence and cum leaking onto jungkook’s duvet. he slowed his strokes but couldn’t bring himself to stop completely, rocking his hips as you moaned and gasped immersed in your sudden rapture. “fuck, baby,” he breathed, placing kisses across your back. 
it felt sinfully intimate, something he’d always consciously avoided. in that moment, he was too occupied with the feeling of you around him to care. when he finally pulled out and turned you over, he didn’t look remotely close to done with you. he looked ready to eat you up, a starved man. 
“what brought all this on?” you stammered between urgent breaths. he wasn’t normally so passionate. it was uncharacteristic, even if you were acquainted with his sadistic streak. he just smirked at you, picking you up from your position on your back and slipping in underneath you. “wouldn’t you like to know.” he mused, uninterested in divulging how your cute little puppy dog eyes in your instagram story at the library had got him so worked up while at the gym he had to leave right after seeing it. 
sitting on top of him, you squirmed as he placed more kisses down your neck and gently bit at your shoulders. “wanna show me how good you can be, baby?” he asked between teasing bites on your skin. you nodded, eager to bring him to his release. you lined his solid cock against your core as you lifted yourself above it, sinking down and taking all of him inside you with a relaxed moan. your head lulled back in pleasure, grinding down as you rested on his thighs. 
impatient, he gripped your ass and began lifting your weight up before setting you back down. he really was getting another workout. you bounced on his lap, straining your leg muscles to aid in his efforts. “wanna come in you so bad, fuck” he moaned, eyes locked on your tits as they jiggled in front of him. you clenched around at him at his words, digging your fingernails into his back and riding him with fever. he fell back onto his elbows, stretching his torso for your viewing pleasure. you stroked his abs, elated at the vision of him underneath you, hair a mess, lips parted and eyes glassy. you knew he was close. 
you reached behind you to touch his balls which earned an excited hiss. his eyebrows furrowed and he panted, looking as if he was on the border of pleasure and pain. you continued to ride and grind on his cock, before he laid back completely and held you up by your thighs. he forced his cock into you as deep as it could go and fucked you brutally right from under you. 
you felt another fucking orgasm creeping up on you as he filled you and withdrew at such a rapid pace, all you felt was the building pressure of his cock and the incidental stimulation of his pelvis smacking into your clit. your moan cut through him, seeing droplets of your cum fall onto your skirt, his lap and his cock. in tandem, you came at an unforgiving volume. his cum shot out of his cock, the feeling prolonging your orgasm as you released onto him.
you’d both cleaned up and fell into a shallow sleep, too sticky and exhausted to put your clothes back on. you hadn’t noticed jungkook’s phone buzzing with people from his floor begging you both to keep it down. 
nor had you noticed a text from taehyung, asking if you were still at the library- he’d just got back to his dorm. 
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i-will-write · 9 months
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badwritinghabit · 9 months
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Chef's Kiss | Carmy x fem!OC x Luca | Chapter 8
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Previous Chapter | Next Chapter | Masterlist
Warnings: language, yelling, cheesiness.
Word Count: 4,614
Summary: Luca surprises Sophie with a phone call. Sophie and Carmy fight. Luca comforts Sophie after a rough night-- twice.
Sophie was already itching to text Luca as she returned home from their afternoon out. She had googled ‘things to see in Copenhagen’ a few minutes into her train ride, excited at the prospect of visiting him. It was rare she had such an instant connection with someone. She didn’t want to lose it. 
But she knew she shouldn’t get her hopes up about being able to keep in contact. He lived so far away. And she was in Chicago for a reason. She hoped she’d get to visit him in the not too distant future. But there was no point lingering too long in her daydreams. 
She distracted herself by doing some of the things she loved. First she made some of her homemade poppy seed rolls in preparation to treat herself to an egg and cheese sandwich the next morning-- a favorite from her time in NYC. For dinner, she made herself one of her favorite comfort foods-- bruschetta.
After she ate, she did some intensive some self care. She took a bubble bath, covered herself in lotion, put on a sheet mask, and then laid on her couch. She started watching Love Island on her laptop, propping it up on her legs as she laid against the armrest of the couch. She was behind an episode and knew her sister would want to talk about it when she got back. 
A few minutes after she laid down, she heard her phone vibrating against the wood of the table. She reached over, grabbing the phone with a tired groan. She sat straight up when she saw Luca’s name on the screen. She moved the laptop to the table and hit the green answer button on her phone.
“Hello?” she answered, voice coming out rushed. She reached over to pause the video on her laptop.
“Hi Sophie. How’s your night?” Luca asked.
“Good. Quiet. Just watching a show. Yours?” she asked, sinking back into her couch. Her nervous excitement immediately tempered by the already comfortingly familiar sound of his voice.
“It’s quiet here too,” he said, voice soft. “I got back to my hotel room and realized there was somewhere I’d rather be.” 
“Yeah?” Sophie smiled, knowing she sounded embarrassingly eager. She couldn’t find it in herself to care.
“Would you like some company? I have to be up early for my flight but I could bring my luggage over and leave from there.”
“Yes!” she agreed immediately. “And I’m always up early anyways.” 
“OK. Great. I’ll be there in a bit,” he sounded as excited as she did and she felt fluttery. They had one more night. 
As soon as she hung up she went to the bathroom and peeled the face mask off. She fanned her face, trying to dry her skin quicker while she ran over to her bedroom. She quickly changed from her ratty t-shirt to a much cuter silky pajama set. She tidied, putting a few dishes into the dishwasher. 
She looked around for other things to do. On a whim, she lit the candles she had on the table. After she returned from double checking her bedroom, she felt embarrassed at the lit candles and decided it was too much. She blew them out.
Realizing she was doing way too much, she sat, forcing herself to stop overthinking and just put Love Island back on to distract her until he arrived.
When she ran down to let him in, she realized she had forgotten how chilly it was outside. She opened the door and immediately wrapped an arm around herself, severely underdressed for the weather.
Luca stood in front of her with his small rolling suitcase and a leather messenger bag.  “Hey,” she greeted with a soft smile, despite the shiver that shot down her spine.
He stepped forward and leaned down to kiss her gently. “You’re cold. Let’s get inside.” His hands rubbed up and down her arms quickly to warm her. 
“Are you watching Love Island?” Luca asked, as he walked in and looked at her laptop propped up on her coffee table. He set his luggage aside, walked over, and plopped down on her couch. She shot him a questioning look, surprised he knew about the reality tv show. At his grin, she followed and sat next to him. 
Sophie curled into him as he threw his arm around the back of the couch. She melted into the comfort of his warmth, feeling like it was where she belonged.
“Catch me up on what’s going on. My mom and sister love this show so I hear about it on our weekly calls,” Luca said as he started stroking her arm, up and down, gentle and familiar.  
Sophie launched into an update after asking what he already knew. Something about the comfortable domesticity of being curled up on the sofa watching reality TV hit her and she snuggled into him more, so cozy she found herself fighting off sleep. 
As the episode ended, Sophie snuggled into Luca with a yawn, blinking tired eyes as she tried to wake herself from the drowsy, comfy reverie she found herself in– wrapped safe in Luca’s arms. 
“Bed time?” he asked, looking tired himself. She nodded.
Sophie got in bed to wait for him, trying to stay awake. He returned from the bathroom in an old t-shirt and climbed into bed with her, pulling her gently into his arms. He pressed a soft kiss to her forehead. 
“I should set an alarm for 6:30. I have to be to the airport by 8,” Luca said.
“I set your phone on the charger by your side,” she said, pointing to the side table. He leaned over to grab his phone, keeping one arm wrapped around her. She snuggled into his chest.
“This is a nice shirt,” Sophie mumbled as Luca fiddled with his phone. Her fingers played with the hem. It had the soft worn feeling of a well loved piece of clothing. 
“It’s an old football shirt. Used to play with some friends years back,” he said as he put the phone down. Sophie had snuck her hand underneath the shirt and around his side to wrap him in a hug. “You can have it if you want,” his voice was slowed, tired as he sunk down into her bed, comfortable in her arms. 
“Wait really?” she perked up, cheeks glowing pink. 
“Yeah. Not as soft as these pajamas but might keep you a bit warmer,” he teased, his hand running up her thigh and to her side, the silky fabric bunching against her, the heat of his palm finding the soft skin of her waist.
She blushed and hugged him tighter. “I’d like that,” she admitted, quietly. His hands caressed her side in calming movements that slowed as he sighed and shifted, getting comfortable.
She realized, slowly, that he didn’t want to have sex. He just wanted to sleep. With her. Wrapped in each other’s arms. She leaned up, cupping his face gently and pressing a kiss to his cheek before settling back down to wrap herself around him. “Goodnight, Luca.” 
“Goodnight.”
---
Sophie was glad she had prepared the rolls, pleased she ended up having the chance to cook one of her comfort dishes for Luca. The two enjoyed a breakfast of egg sandwiches and coffee over the soundtrack provided by her neighbor’s music loud enough to be heard through the wall. Luca remarked on the songs between their quiet conversation, his easy going commentary making her smile. 
They kissed goodbye on the stairs outside of her apartment building. “Text me when you get there safely,” she said, before really thinking about what that kind of request meant. He agreed. 
And then he left.
She climbed the stairs to her apartment and shuffled back to her bed to lay down. She found he had left the t-shirt he had worn the night before. Folded neatly and placed on top of her blanket.
---
Sophie and Luca texted non stop through his time in New York. She loved seeing the pictures he sent. She shared some of her own, though she rarely had anything terribly interesting to send. Luca always seemed happy to hear about her days anyways. 
Their conversations dropped off a few days later, after he returned home to Copenhagen. She was disappointed. She had found herself hoping for more, against her better instincts. She knew it was unlikely they’d be able to stay in contact with such a massive distance between them.
She decided to try to be happy with the experience and leave it at that. She couldn’t leave her sister anytime soon. And she had gotten so very attached to him in their three days together. Maybe it was healthy to step back a bit.
She forced the thoughts from her head as she walked into The Bear. She had told Carmy she'd return to help with decor decisions. And after their night of tapas and talking, she thought things between them were finally cleared. But as she stepped through the door, she found herself face to face with a clearly irritated Carmy.
“We don’t need you here,” he said, turning away from her, twisting a rag in his hands as he looked back down at a place setting and some dishware.
“What? I thought we were just going to talk about plates– and decor and stuff,” she said, confused and hurt. She thought things had been smoothed over between them.
“Yeah. But we don’t need you,” he said, again, arms crossed. 
“What is this about?” she asked, getting frustrated. “Just tell me, okay?”
“You don’t need to be here. It isn’t your restaurant.” He was getting louder and instead of feeling cowed or wanting to run, Sophie found herself getting angry. 
“What the fuck, Carmen? Just tell me what you’re actually mad about.” 
“You didn’t tell Luca about your sister,” he said, voice suddenly quieter again. She heard a familiar voice from her side and she glanced over to see Fak mutter something to Nat, Carmy’s sister. They were both standing behind them, watching. Nat grabbed Fak’s arm and walked him away, giving her and Carmy privacy. 
“What does that have to do with anything?” her voice shook, hurt that he had brought this up in front of an audience. 
“He called me a few days ago, wanting to talk about you. And I had to tell him why you’re in Chicago.” He was getting louder. “It’s not my fucking job to be your babysitter.” He threw the cloth he was holding on the table and walked away. 
Sophie followed after him. “You’re not running away from this Carmen,” she followed him back into the kitchen. “Talk to me!” she shouted as she got through the door. He turned, looking furious. And that made her even angrier. “Why the fuck would you tell him? Why is this your business?” “He’s my friend! And you just didn’t mention that your sister has cancer? That maybe he shouldn’t start planning trips for you to come see him?”
Some part of Sophie’s brain stuck on that idea. That Luca had wanted her to come see him. But the rest of her was pounding heart, pumping blood, furious at Carmy. 
“It wasn’t your place to tell him. This is my life!” she nearly growled at him. She was furious he had meddled. Furious he was judging her for this. Like he hadn’t kissed her after he started talking to Claire again.
He was supposed to be her friend.  
“Listen to yourself. This is his life too. You can’t fuck around with my friends.” 
“Fuck around with your friends? He asked me out! We’re adults, Carmy!” She wanted to scream at him. What was his problem? “He lives in Copenhagen. He was here for three days. He didn’t need to know!” 
“It isn’t my job to clean up after you anymore,” he said, voice cold and deliberate. It was a low blow. Cruel. She felt it in her ribcage. 
She thought for a second she saw remorse in his eyes, as if he could see how much it had hurt to hear him disparage the help he had given her. But he didn’t say anything else.
“Okay Carmen,” she said bitterly, turning to leave.
But she felt the tide of anger rise up and she clenched her fists. How could he act like she was in the wrong? After everything that had happened?
“No– you know what? Who do you think you are? I wanted one nice day! One fucking day where I wasn’t the sad girl. And don’t act like you don’t know Carmen. You can’t be mad at me for not telling my whole life story to someone I had known for three days.” She was breathing heavily, still staring him dead in the eye. 
He just shook his head. Watching him judge her was infuriating. She couldn’t help herself. “I didn’t lie! He didn’t ask. I told him I moved here for my sister. He didn’t ask why.”
“I don’t want to listen to your excuses,” he said, voice deadly calm. But she was still shaking with righteous fury. “Fine. I’m done, Carmen. I’m so fucking done.” She stormed past and left out the back door. She was shaking, her breaths coming fast. She tried to hold back tears but stormed out of the alley behind The Bear, tears streaming down her face. 
She thought she heard someone calling for her but she kept up her pace and left, not wanting to talk to anyone.
---
Sophie sat on her couch, ignoring the television show playing in front of her. Her phone started buzzing on her coffee table so she reached out, freezing when Carmy’s name flashed on the screen. 
She groaned and left it, ignoring the call. She was not ready to talk to him. Sick of the yelling and the fighting. She wanted to help him but he made it so fucking hard. She was done with the hot and cold. She just wanted a quiet night. 
A little while later she saw the indicator pop up meaning he left a message. She didn’t listen to it. 
She felt like the little magic bubble around her time with Luca popped and she was back in the real world. She pushed the heels of her hands against her eyelids, frustrated with herself. She decided to just text Luca. Clear the air. She didn’t want to sit with this feeling. 
“Hey! Want to set up a call soon? It has been a while,” she sent, figuring she would keep it light. She didn’t want to send him an ominous ‘we need to talk’ text. 
An hour or so later he replied. 
“Are you still awake? I could call while I’m walking to work.” 
“That would be great! I’ll be up for a while yet.” 
After 20 minutes, her phone finally started to ring. “Hello?” she answered quickly.
“Hey,” he responded. His voice calmed her a little, the same warm Luca. 
Still, there was an awkward silence. She knew she needed to talk about it. But she put it off a little longer.
“It’s early. 4:30 there?” 
“Yeah it’s about a 20 minute walk from my place. It’s nice here in the early mornings though. Peaceful.” 
“That sounds nice,” Sophie agreed.
Another pause. She breathed. Knew she needed to get it out in the open. “I suppose I should tell you, Carmy told me about the conversation you two had.” 
Luca was quiet on the other side of the world. 
“He was mad on your behalf. Didn’t let me off easy. He’s a good friend to have.” She sighed after a pause.
“He was mad?” He sounded surprised.
“Yeah. I’m sorry about that. I didn’t mean to hide things. It’s just– we were having a nice time and I didn’t want to ruin it,” she said, quietly. 
“Sophie, he shouldn’t have been mad. I’m not mad,” Luca said, sounding concerned. “You moved across the country to take care of your family. Why would I be mad that you didn’t tell me all of that after only a few days?”
Sophie was relieved but confused. Carmy had exploded at her. She assumed Luca must have been mad too. She felt tears in her eyes, wanting to be released. She took a shaky breath, not sure how to reply. 
“Are you all right?” 
“Yeah,” she answered but her trembling voice betrayed her.
“Oh love,” he said. “You thought I was mad? I’m not. I was trying to figure out what to say. I was going to call on my day off tomorrow.”
“It was such a magical couple days. I thought I had ruined it,” she admitted, feeling stupid. “I’m sorry. It’s been a weird day. I’m fine.” 
“Sophie. You don’t need to apologize. Really.” She heard some noise on his end, like someone was greeting him. And he was quiet for a bit. “Are you still there?”
“Yeah,” she said, voice a little less wobbly. “Sorry, I’m trying to figure out what happened.”
“Yeah- I don’t really understand myself. I’ll talk to Carmy,” he sounded a little frustrated. 
“Maybe he is just caught up with the restaurant stuff,” she said, tiredly, defending him without really thinking about it. 
Luca hummed. “Are you okay?” he asked, sounding concerned.
“Yeah. I think I was preparing myself for a different conversation so I’m catching up.” 
“I’m sorry I made you think you did something wrong. I shouldn’t have talked to Carmy. I didn’t think about it.”
“No it’s okay.” She paused and sighed. She didn't know what to say, still reeling. But then she realized there was one good thing she learned. “It was nice to hear you still wanted me to visit. I was already looking up things to do in Copenhagen.”
“Yeah? Find anything good” he said, smile clear in his voice.
“The botanical gardens look beautiful.” She tried to remember specifics but came up blank. “Um–there was a castle.”
“Thorough research,” he teased her.
“Well you see, there’s this guy there–”
“Is there?”
“He makes really fantastic french toast.”
“Does he?” She could hear his smile and it made her blush.
“And I thought he could show me around. Be my tour guide.” 
Luca chuckled and the sound soothed her. “I’d love to.”
“We should make real plans soon,” she said, her exhaustion catching up to her as she fought off a yawn.
“I’d like that. You sound tired. And it must be late there, you should go to sleep. But– you’re wonderful, Sophie. And we should talk more soon, yeah?” His voice was warm and calming. In only a few minutes he had convinced her everything would be okay. 
She blushed. “Yeah. Thanks, Luca,” she said. She felt calmed. “Good night. Or good morning.” 
“Good night, Sophie.” 
She went to bed– decided she’d listen to Carmy’s voicemail in the morning. She wanted to end her night on a happy note.
---
“I’m sorry, Soph. 
I didn’t tell him on purpose. I thought he knew so when he started asking about Copenhagen, I brought it up. But it wasn’t my place.
And I know– I should have been looking out for you. I want to look out for you. I’m just– things are difficult with the restaurant right now. 
I feel like I’m wasting too much time with Claire. And I don’t know what I’m doing any more. 
But I shouldn’t have yelled. And I’m really sorry. 
Just-please come to the friends and family night.”
She couldn’t miss the opening of his restaurant. No matter how annoyed she was at him. She texted him that she’d be there.
---
The Bear was full of familiar faces when she arrived. She waved at Pete who was clearly waiting for Nat to return. Sophie assumed she must’ve gotten pulled into more restaurant madness. It was their first attempt at service, Sophie knew things must be intense in the kitchen.
Richie showed her, Tim, and Mallory to a table in the corner. “Nice suit,” she said to him as he pulled out her chair. He grinned at her, standing taller. He introduced himself to her sister and she could tell the two of them got on immediately.
Wine was poured, the menu was shared. Sophie decided to order the pasta dish Syd had talked about the week prior. As she looked around the restaurant, she knew they were building something incredible.
Carmen came and served their first dish, pouring their broth with steady hands. She smiled at him as he looked up. “Everything looks amazing, Carm.” She said to him, noticing his nerves. He smiled and thanked her. She could still feel the awkwardness between them, they hadn’t really talked since their fight. But she wanted him to know she supported him.
He quickly greeted Tim and Mallary, thanking them for coming. Mallary smiled at him and thanked him for the invite.   
After a few minutes, Sophie noticed Richie go into the kitchen and not come back. It looked like there was an issue with some other tables getting their food out. Only barely noticeable, the tiniest bit longer than she’d expected, but she knew the signs of stress too well. She was worried for Carmy.
"This is fantastic." Mallary gushed, eating her steak. "He really is talented," she said, looking to Sophie. “Even if he is an asshole.” 
"He is under a lot of pressure,” she countered, taking the first bite of Syd’s dish. It was perfect. The noodles were the perfect texture. The sauce was perfectly balanced. She closed her eyes, savoring the taste. She knew she needed to congratulate Syd the next time she saw her.
The night went on and Carmy never came out. Mallary kept shooting Sophie concerned glances and she didn't know how to explain what she was feeling. 
Sophie watched as Claire got up and pushed her way into the kitchen. They had finished dessert, Marcus's honey bun was amazing, and Sophie had been trying to draw out their time a little before they left to make sure things were okay.
"I feel like something is wrong," she admitted, toying with the napkin on the table. “I’m a little worried for Carmy.” She waited and sighed. “But Claire just went in, she’s probably got it covered. We should just go.”
Her sister looked at her concerned but nodded. The three stood up, getting ready to leave. Tim held out Mallary’s coat to help her slide it on. There was a crashing noise and all three watched as the kitchen doors swung open and Claire stormed out of the kitchen and met up with her friends, tears in her eyes. 
"Go back there," Mallary encouraged, looking at her sister.
Sophie bit her lip but nodded. “I’ll be right back.” 
She walked in to see Richie yelling at the freezer. She couldn’t fully process what he was saying, the banging on the freezer making her stop in shock trying to figure out what was happening.
Carmy was yelling, the sound muffled from the other side of the freezer. His pounding echoing around the nearly empty kitchen. Richie was yelling back. Sophie looked to Syd, eyes wide. “What is going on?” 
“Carmy’s locked in the freezer.” 
“Fuck-” she exhaled. She walked over to Richie, the closer she got, the more clearly she could hear Carmy’s frantic shouts through the freezer. Her heart started racing, unsure how to help– how to handle it.
Richie turned to see her walking up. He called towards the freezer, “You got another visitor, asshole. Let’s see you fuck it up with her too.” 
She heard Carmy’s muffled “What the fuck did you say?” directed at Richie.
"Richie,” she said incredulously, eyes wide at his snipe at Carmen. 
“Did you see Claire? He’s fucking everything up tonight. I’d stay the fuck away.” 
She was still angry at Carmen. Still hurt that he threw her struggles in New York in her face the last time they spoke. But she couldn’t help but defend her friend. “Richie this is a huge night and he's in the freezer! And you're yelling at him? Just go walk it off."
"Yeah, take his side,” he was clearly still heated, rolling his shoulders back and looking up at the ceiling.
She stepped closer and crossed her arms. "Walk it off, Richie.” Her voice was calm– deadly quiet. 
"Fine. Fuck. You deal with him." He stalked off.
"Fuck," she whispered to his retreating back. "Is someone coming to get him out?" She turned to Syd and Marcus who had been watching the whole exchange.
"Yeah" Syd said, walking over. "Another 30 minutes at least though."
"Okay," she acknowledged. She walked over to the freezer and placed an ear on it. Carmy had stopped yelling. 
"Carm." she said. "It’s Sophie. I’m out here. I’m gonna go send my sister home and then I’ll be right back ok?” She waited a second but didn’t hear a response. 
She walked quickly to the front of house and hugged Tim and Mallary goodbye, before rushing back to the kitchen. She slid to the floor and sat against the freezer, back to the door. “I’m back.” She called into the freezer. Syd had disappeared somewhere, service was over and it was quiet. 
"You shouldn't be here." She finally heard Carmy say to her, and she sighed in relief, glad he was at least speaking to her. She hesitated, unsure how to respond. But found herself blurting the thing on her mind. 
“You followed me into a freezer four years ago. On one of the hardest nights of my life,” she said, turning and putting her cheek against the door, palm on the floor. “I thought my whole world was falling apart.” 
She remembered that night with dread in her chest. Their head chef threw her plate of food at her, the sauce splattered across her chest, plate bruising her shoulder and crashing to the floor, her heart racing. She had rushed into the first place she could hide, the freezer. And Carmy had followed. Had held her as she fell apart in his arms. 
“But it was okay. You made sure I was okay. And I needed you to know that out there, the night was perfect. Your team pulled it off. And it fucking sucks that you missed it in here. But you still did this, Carm. It was still your day.”
He was silent for a while, and Sophie waited nervously for a response. Worried she had messed up.
“Thanks, Sophie.” 
She sighed, relieved, turning so her back was against the door again. “Of course, Carm. I’m here.” 
Eventually, someone came out and cut open the freezer door. She felt her heart breaking for Carmy as he walked out, looking exhausted and downtrodden. She stepped forward before she could stop herself and pulled him into a hug, squeezing him tightly to her chest. She pulled away after a second, as she watched Nat step forward to talk to him. Sophie smiled quickly at Nat and then at Carmy, gesturing with her thumb that she was going to head out. 
She grabbed her clutch and pulled out her phone. Quickly texting her sister saying she was headed home, that everything was fine. Then she ordered a Lyft home.
---
Luca texted as she arrived home, asking about the opening. She smiled, thankful she had someone to talk about her night with. She hit the call button as she walked into her apartment, slipping off her shoes, tension melting away as soon as she heard Luca’s voice.
“Hello love, how was your night?”
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Text
Simply Lovelorn–Keys
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Keys' POV
I looked over at Y/N, my stomach doing a weird flip when a piece of hair fell in front of her face. I had to resist the urge to reach forward and move it for her. I took a deep breath as she tucked that hair behind her ear and fixed her glasses. I let out a small laugh, making Y/N look at me when I noticed it.
"What?" She asked.
I grabbed a nearby rag and used my water bottle to wet it. Using the rag, I cleaned the paint off her cheek.
"Thanks," she whispered. I laughed as she instantly went back to the painting she was working on. My heart jumped into my throat when she started humming her favorite song, Fantasy by Mariah Carey.
I've known Y/N most of my life. She moved in a few houses down when we were in middle school. Her dad started working with my dad. At first, we didn't really know each other. Our dads worked together, sure. Our moms would talk if they ran into each other at the store. But Y/N and I didn't talk.
Until the company picnic the summer after they moved here. I was eating a hamburger when I looked over and noticed her drawing in the dirt in the garden nearby.
"Whatcha doin'?" I asked. Y/N jumped and looked up at me.
"Drawing," she stuttered.
"You're really good."
"Thanks," she blushed as she looked away and went back to drawing in the dirt. I sat next to her and watched her.
After that picnic, when school started up again, I saw Y/N eating lunch alone. I walked over and sat with her. Ever since then, we've been inseparable.
Four years ago, Y/N and I got an apartment and moved to Cambridge together. I started going to MIT while Y/N started going to the Massachusetts College of Art and Design in Boston.
Y/N wasn't entirely sure what she wanted to do once she got her degree. She talked about opening a gallery. She also talked about becoming an illustrator for children's books. She wasn't sure. I, on the other hand, knew exactly what I wanted to do. My plan was to code a video game that changed the world.
I was almost done with the game I started my senior year. I looked away from my laptop when Y/N put her paintbrush in the cup of water.
"What are you thinking for dinner?" She asked, rolling her shoulders.
"I'm not hungry," I mumbled, going back to altering my code. I heard Y/N giggle but I didn't look up.
"Keys," she sighed. She moved next to me on the couch and slowly closed my laptop. "You haven't eaten anything since I got home from class. Five hours ago."
"I'm fine," I said as I started to open my laptop again. Y/N sighed as she instantly closed it.
"Walter," she whispered, "I know how stressed you are, but you have to eat. How about I make that pasta dish you always scarf down?"
I looked at her worried eyes and my heart melted. Even before we moved in together, Y/N has always taken care of me. She constantly put me ahead of her, even though I begged her not to. It's what helped me fall in love with her. That and how protective I was of her.
"How about I help?"
                                * * * * *
Three days later, I was still glued to my laptop. The door opened and I instantly heard Y/N quietly singing.
"But it's just a sweet sweet fantasy baby. When I close my eyes, you come and you take me. It's so deep in my daydreams. But it's just a sweet, sweet fantasy baby."
I listened to Y/N's voice echo through the apartment, but I kept typing away.
"Keys?" Y/N stopped singing and called out. "You home?"
"In my room," I called back. I heard my door open more but didn't turn around. Y/N sighed as she walked in. She gently put her hands on my shoulders and leaned her chin on the top of my head.
"I was going to ask you what you're doing," she whispered, "but I could answer that question myself. You're working on your game."
"I'm so close," I sighed.
"You said that three months ago," Y/N mumbled. She stood up and hesitated before squeezing my shoulders. I turned around as she started to leave.
"Y/N," I sighed, "please don't do that."
"Do what?" She asked, wrapping her arms around herself and turning toward me.
"You hate when I get hyper-focused on a code," I said, leaning my elbows on my knees.
"You stop eating," she said, looking at her shoes. "Don't you remember the last time you got focused on a code? It was your senior project. I came home from class and you were barely conscious. I had to call an ambulance."
"I'm sorry," I whispered.
"At least take a break," she said, her voice dropping to a whisper. "Please? I ordered a pizza. It should be here soon. Come take a break and eat something. We could watch a movie or something."
My heart sank when she rubbed her arms. She only did this when she started to overthink something. She looked up, her eyes hopeful when I stood up. I grabbed her hand and led us to the other room. We sat on the couch and started looking for a movie.
Two movies and an entire pizza later, Y/N started to fall asleep. I leaned her over so she was resting on my shoulder. I looked down and my heart got caught in my throat when I saw her smiling in her sleep. This was another thing I secretly loved about Y/N.
If I were to create a video game character based on Y/N, she wouldn't necessarily be the one that everyone wanted to be. She would be the one that only the best players used. The one that, if you knew how incredibly amazing she was, she'd be unstoppable.
I turned the movie off and sighed. I looked over at Y/N and moved some hair out of her face. I couldn't resist as I leaned down and kissed her forehead.
I carefully sat up and picked her up bridal style. I froze when she cuddled more into my chest. I carried her down the hall and to her room. I softly kicked her door open and walked in. I laid her down and slowly pulled her blanket up to her chin.
After watching her sleep for a few beats, I forced myself to leave her room. I went back to coding my game but my mind was on Y/N.
Before I even knew what love was, Y/N became the girl of my dreams. It wasn't until high school that I realized it. High school was when Y/N blossomed. She became the legendary artist at our school. Whenever the student council wanted a mural painted, they called her. She was the star of every student art show.
Which means, every "artsy" guy was after her. Every day, a new guy was talking to her, walking her to class, or offering to hold her books. They only did it once. Because after, I'd threaten them to leave her alone. She didn't know about any of this.
Then again, I didn't know why I was doing it either until I was telling my mom about some football player who asked Y/N to be his partner for a history project. The entire time I was ranting about how he was going to hurt her, my mother had a knowing smile on her face. My mom was the one who pointed out that I might want to be more than friends with Y/N.
I realized she was right. I tried to avoid Y/N the next day, but I couldn't do it. I couldn't handle going one day without her. Every day I'm with her, I'm more alive than I've ever been.
Y/N changed me. She made me the kind of guy I'd never thought I'd be. And I didn't hate it.
                                * * * * *
A week later, I was finally finished with my game. I had Y/N look at the graphics before sending it to a couple of different gaming companies. Ever since I sent them, I have been a nervous wreck. Y/N tried to help distract me but when she went to class, I was on my own.
Tonight, Y/N was having a student gallery. Each senior gets their own hallway in one of the buildings at the college. Y/N was really excited but even more nervous. She's always been nervous when showing other people her artwork. She didn't need to be worried. All of her paintings were beautiful.
I walked around the gallery, not really looking as I headed toward Y/N's hallway. I instantly knew when I got to Y/N's section. I've seen her working on some of them at home. I stopped, cold in my tracks when I saw one of her paintings.
"Do you like it?"
I turned around to see Y/N standing there. She was in a beautiful cocktail dress that flared out at her hips. She was nervously playing with her hands.
"I have seen you working on every single one of these," I whispered, unable to find my voice, "but I've never seen this one."
I turned back toward the painting on the wall. It was a watercolor of her and me.
A few weeks ago, I came home and Y/N wasn't there. I tried calling her but she didn't answer. After about half an hour of worrying and getting sicker by the minute, I knew where she was. I found her at the park by our apartment building, slowly swinging. I could tell by the look on her face that she was struggling. I didn't say anything. I walked over and sat next to her on the other swing. We sat there, slightly swinging for what felt like hours.
Growing up, Y/N and I always hung out on that swing set. In this particular moment that she captured, she was picking the petals off a flower while I gazed at her. If you hadn't been there, you wouldn't have known it was of me and her. You would've seen a girl and a boy swinging. But I saw one of my favorite moments with the girl of my dreams.
"I wanted it to be a surprise," she said softly as she stepped up next to me.
"It's amazing," I whispered. I reached over and grabbed her hand. My chest tightened as she squeezed it in response.
"I'm really glad you're here," she said under her breath. I looked over and smiled at her. I felt a little bit of pride as I watched her face turn pink.
"I wouldn't have missed it for the world."
I spent the next two hours watching Y/N interact with people viewing her artwork. She was kind, sweet, humble, and extremely charismatic. I couldn't stop watching her.
As much as I watched her, I watched the watercolor of us on the swings more. Whenever someone walked by it, I felt weird. Almost defensive. Possessive.
"You want to walk around and look at the other galleries?" Y/N asked, walking over to me. "I think I need a break from stressing over what people think."
"Or I can stay here and eavesdrop?" I smirked causing Y/N to laugh. My heart jumped into my throat when she gently touched my arm.
"Thanks," she chuckled, "but I need my emotional support best friend."
I grabbed her hand that was on my arm and looped that arm through mine.
"That's me."
                                * * * * *
Before the gallery closed, I had to do one thing. Once I was done, I stopped by to check on Y/N. Her hands were shaking as she watched her classmates say goodbye to their families and friends. I walked over and grabbed her hand as I stepped up next to her.
"It was a great show," I whispered. "You should be proud."
"You know I'm not a proud person," she teased.
"That's why I'm here," I said, nudging her shoulder with mine. "I get to be proud for you. Of you. And I am."
"Thanks, Keys," she blushed.
"You want a ride home?" I asked, slightly clearing my throat.
"No thanks," she sighed. "I have to help take down and clean up. Then my professor wants to talk about the night. I probably won't be home until later."
My phone started ringing, cutting her off. I sent her an apologetic look before answering it.
"Hello?"
"Is this Walter McKey?"
"This is he," I said, sending Y/N a look. "Who is this?"
"This is Antwan's assistant, Jeremy," the guy greeted. "He would like to set up a meeting at Soonami to talk about buying your game."
"Oh," I said under my breath. I cleared my throat, trying to speak normally. "That would be great. Thank you. What time?"
"Tomorrow, two o'clock."
Before I could say anything else, Jeremy hung up. I slowly lowered the phone away from my ear, still trying to wrap my head around that phone call.
"Who was that?"
"Antwan's assistant," I mumbled. I finally snapped out of it, looking up at Y/N. She laughed when I picked her up and spun her around.
"What is going on?" She giggled as I put her down.
"He wants to buy my game."
"That's amazing!" Y/N cheered as she jumped back into my arms. I spun her around, this time slower. When I stopped, she still had her arms wrapped around me.
"I knew you would get an offer," she whispered. She squeezed me once before breaking the hug. She looked into my eyes, and the longer we stared at each other, the pinker her cheeks got.
"So," she cleared her throat, letting me go and wrapping her arms around herself, "who just bought the best game from the smartest MIT grad?"
"Soonami."
That one word changed Y/N's whole demeanor.
"What?" I asked when I saw the look on her face. "What's wrong?"
"I just. . . Is Soonami really the right publisher for your game?"
I opened my mouth, not entirely sure what I was going to say. Before I could stutter something out, Y/N's professor called for her. Y/N looked over her shoulder at her before glancing back at me. We stared at each other for a second before Y/N sighed and walked away.
                                * * * * *
After leaving Y/N's gallery, I didn't go straight home. I ran a few errands, stalling. I kept going over how fast Y/N's excitement turned to worry. I tried to figure out why she might be nervous about Soonami buying my game.
I walked into our apartment, my stomach sinking when I saw Y/N sitting on the couch with her knees tucked up to her chest. She was eating her favorite kind of ice cream out of the carton with a spoon.
"Bubble gum ice cream?" I asked, putting the groceries on the kitchen table. "That's your sad ice cream. I thought tonight went well."
"It did," she said, looking into the carton. She sighed, placing it on the coffee table before moving so she was sitting on the armrest.
"Is this about Soonami?" I couldn't help but ask. I walked over to the couch and sat on the cushion next to Y/N's armrest. I continued, "Y/N, I know Antwan's reputation, but Soonami is a growing company. They can help boost the game."
"I know that," she said softly, "but you have to admit this isn't where you thought your game would go."
"You're right," I agreed, "but I also know they are the only ones who gave the game a chance."
"There will be others," Y/N tried to reassure me. "Maybe you shouldn't jump at the first offer."
"What if there aren't other companies?" I shrugged. "Look, Y/N, I'm not acting like you aren't as much a part of my game as I am. You have been through everything. You were the one who tore me away from the screen. You were the one to encourage me to get help from Millie. You were the one who helped me design some of the characters. You've been by my side through all of it."
I hadn't noticed I had delicately placed my hands on her knees until I looked down. I instantly removed them.
"Maybe I am jumping into things too quickly," I cleared my throat as I continued. "I just don't want all our hard work to be for nothing."
"What does Millie think about Antwan and Soonami?"
"She's for it," I shrugged. "I'm telling you, Y/N, Antwan is awesome. He said all the right things and. . ."
"Just because he said all the right things, doesn't mean he plans to actually do them," Y/N mumbled as she looked around the house, avoiding my eyes. "I know that this is huge, but your game doesn't seem like it fits their niche. Maybe this can be a stepping stone or. . ."
Y/N stopped talking and froze. She stood up and walked into the kitchen. I held my breath as she pulled something out of my bag. She turned around, still looking at what was in her hands.
"You're the one who bought it?" She asked under her breath. When she looked up at me, she had tears building.
Of course I bought Y/N's painting of us on the swing set.
"What were you. . . When did you. . . Why did you. . . Keys?"
"I had to," I shrugged. "I couldn't let some stranger have it. It's between you and me. It's us."
Y/N looked up at me with tears streaming down her face. I gasped when she dropped her painting on the table before running over to me and wrapping her arms around my neck in a tight hug.
I wrapped my arms around her waist and looked at her painting which was facing up so I could see it. My heart sank when I felt a tear fall onto my shoulder.
"Thank you," she whispered. She slowly pulled out of our hug but kept her hands delicately on my shoulders. "You've always been there for me, Keys," she said softly. "You've been my number one fan since you watched me draw in the dirt at that picnic."
"You've always been there for me," I chuckled. "How could I not return the favor?"
Y/N's tears started to fall again as she brought me in for another hug. As I felt her pressed to my chest, depending on me, I knew I'd never let her go. At that moment, I realized what character from my game I would be.
Lovelorn.
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daydream-cement · 1 year
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I have a one-shot idea for larissa (depends if the other person could be laurel or someone else) like a simple fluff fic about coffee dates at the weathervane or train rides together hehe
4 Train Rides and Coffee Dates I Said Nothing, And The 1 Time I Did
Characters: Larissa Weems x writer!reader
Synopsis: Kinda what the title says. Just fluffy. A bit of an AU, set in the past. Larissa is just beginning to work at Nevermore as a teacher. 
Authors Note: Sorry anon. You asked me to post this a while ago but the ideas were still banging around my skull. Also we are pretending the train goes to Jericho cause its my world and ur livin in it.
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You had been taking the train to Jericho everyday for about 6 months now. You were working on your next big novel, well what you hoped would be your next big novel. Each day you would take the train and then go sit in your favorite coffee shop for a few hours to clack away on your keyboard. The train rides were marvelous, starting near the coast and ending through the woods. That’s where you found your inspiration. Well, that, and one other thing. Her. You didn’t know her name, but she was becoming the main heroine of your plotline. Tall and beautiful. She just sat down at your table on the train and never stopped coming back.
1. The First Time
You had your computer out in front of you, but you hadn’t written anything. Words alluded you this morning, but you weren't going to force it. You leaned your head back against the seat and began enjoying the forest passing by. From all the train rides before, you knew you were pulling into the Burlington station. 
Only one more stop to Jericho. You close your eyes and take a deep breath, trying to focus on the plot line of your story, but your focus broke when someone sat down at your table sitting kitty corner from you. You couldn’t help but glance to your new tablemate. 
You wondered if she might be a gorgon without the snakes. You might as well have been turned to stone because you couldn’t move once you looked at her. Could she be a Greek statue come to life? Was that a thing? Once she caught you staring, you shook yourself out of the trance, staring back down at your keyboard. Sneaking glances in which she would catch you every time, causing her to smile. 
The ride to Jericho wasn’t long enough.
She wasted no time getting off the train, but you did notice her take a last glance at you when she walked from the station. You smiled to yourself, hoping you had made an impression on her as well. 
At the Weathervane, the line was long once you reached the front and much to your pleasant surprise, the statuesque goddess came in. Before the barista rang you up, you leaned in close, “Hey, I want to pay for the woman who just walked in.”
The barista nodded as you pay a bit extra and tell them to keep anything leftover as a tip, “Don’t say anything though. I don’t want her knowing it was me.”
Finally you sat down, pulling out your laptop. You opened your tabs and documents, getting everything right before your name was called. You grab your coffee, sneaking a glance at the white-blonde haired woman who was already looking at you. 
You began writing, ignoring when she went up to order so she wouldn’t suspect you. She stood by your table as she waited for the coffee, not speaking to you or looking at you. You were busy typing out her description, Statuesque with ruby red lips. Her eyes held an intensity and you had to find out what was the passion behind them. Her legs-
“Larissa.” The barista called and the woman near you moved to get her coffee. So that was her name? Larissa.
2. The Second Time
Just like every other day, you sat looking out the window, imagining your new main character in a scene, but quickly it faded to your own personal daydream. She towered over her love interest, her hand coming up to rest on your cheek. You turned your head, pressing your lips to her palm. She smiled fondly down at you. You saw her leaning down, her eyes glancing at your lips.
Your focus was broken when she sat across from you. A scarf wrapped around her head to protect her hair from the wind today. During the train ride, you fake many things to be able to life your head from your laptop to steal a glance. Your face turned red the couple times she caught you, but she only gave you a small smile. 
Once at the Weathervane, you purchased a coffee for you and one for her. She was standing a few people back in line with someone today, another woman. The companion seemed to be pointing things out, possibly giving a tour. 
Much as the routine goes, you sit, pull open everything you need on the computer, name gets called, and you sit back down to focus on your writing. How could you focus, however, when Larissa was so close by. You only saw your muse once a day, you probably shouldn’t waste it.
You take the time to look at her outfit today. You were seeing a trend, neutral colors and shades of white. It emphasized how fair her skin was. You thought it brought more intensity to her beautiful eyes and lips. 
You notice Larissa glance around the shop when the barista tells her that her coffee is once again paid for. You smile to yourself, loving how she had no clue the crush you had on her. 
When she and her companion were called to get their coffees, you stole a final glance. She was already looking. She flashed a smile at you. Did she know it was you buying her coffee?
3. The Third Time
Today you had headphones on. It felt like a classical music kind of morning, trying to suck some inspiration from Claude Debussy. Larissa sat down with you again when you reached Burlington, but what you didn’t know is that she tried talking to you this time. 
“What are you writing?” Her voice was soft, nervous to even be speaking to you, but when she received no answer, her face was hot with embarrassment. She scolded herself internally, she should have known better than to talk with someone with headphones on. 
The train ride continues. You steal the momentary glace. Typing out the ways to describe her nose, her jaw, and her hair. She saw you looking at her, so she held her gaze at you, wanting to let you know she saw you staring. 
She gently shook her head at you, giving a partial smirk, almost like she was teasing you for staring. 
The routine at the Weathervane came and went, only when Larissa waited for her order, she sat at your table. You thought you were having a minor panic attack. You stayed completely still not typing a word. She was looking around the room, stopping to look at you a couple times. Was she teasing you?
When her name was called, she stood up with a smile. She had to have known it was you buying her coffees. 
You watched her leave the coffee shop, When she was outside, you watched her out the window. She chose to walk past the window on the other side of your booth, flashing you a smile as she walked past. 
4. The Fourth Time
This train ride was fuller than usual. You heard through local gossip that it was the nearby school’s parents weekend. When Larissa’s stop came, you wanted to scream at the parents across from you to move out of the way. That that spot was her unofficial-official spot. 
You didn’t hide the fact that you were looking for her at the Burlington stop. Just to catch her eye. You wanted to know if she was there and wanted her to know you were there. 
You spotted her, unable to stop a smile from spreading on your face. You seemed to catch her eye too. She waved at you with a gloved hand from the other side of the train, causing your heart to flutter.
At the Weathervane, you were feeling a little cheeky. You ordered her coffee and put it at the spot across from you. When she came in, you leaned your head from the booth trying to catch her eye. She had already been searching the room for you though. You nod down to the table indicating for her to come over. 
When she approached, you took the time to appreciate how truly tall she was. She looked from you to the coffee and back to you again, “For me?”
You nod with an embarrassed smile.
“I’m running late. Let’s chat tomorrow.” 
You nod once again, words seemed to be caught in your throat. You opened your mouth to speak, but nothing came out. 
Larissa only smiled down at you, seeming to enjoy how flustered you were. She gave a wink, “It’s a date then!”
You could have melted into a puddle then and there. 
5. The Final Time
“What are you writing?” 
Today your typing on the train had been furious. It was actually nervous typing. You knew today was the day to actually speak to her. Larissa was sitting across from you. You were so entranced in your work that you hadn’t noticed her intently watching you after she sat down.
“I-” You glance up from your work. She has her chin resting in her hand as she inquisitively looks at you, “I’m working on a novel... What brings you on the train?”
This generated a conversation that had you leave your laptop in the dust. You listened to her speak about her new job at Nevermore. She loved the kids and thought she thought she would want to take on a leadership role at the school when she had enough experience. You began sharing minor details about past books, but you chose to omit details about this book, not wanting to share the main characters similarities to Larissa. 
You both walked and talked all the way to the Weathervane. Turns out, you were very compatible. You liked the same books and movies. You spoke similarly about the issues plaguing mankind. Conversation flowed so freely once she finally broke that barrier. 
At the coffeeshop, the barista rang you up for two coffees as usual and Larissa smirked at you, “So it has been you buying these coffees? I had a sneaking suspicion...”
“Turns out I’m not too good at keeping my feelings a secret.” She takes the space across from you in the booth and you begin to take out your computer, setting it to the side. 
“Your feelings? Does someone have a bit of a crush?” Larissa’s confidence was soaring as she took the opportunity to tease you.
The level of comfort you felt with her was spurning on your flirtation as well, “Perhaps I do...”
The sound of your names being called interrupts you. She slides from the booth, holding up a hand, “I got it.” 
You turn your attention back to your laptop, pulling open your tabs, just like you do every morning. When Larissa returns, she doesn’t sit across from you, just rather she slides in next to you, “What are you working on? Be honest this time.” 
Her arm moves behind you as she shifts her body to face you, wanting the full scoop on this book you had been working so diligently on whenever she was around.
“Oh, it’s nothing much.”
“It doesn’t seem like nothing much.” She glanced down at the 170 page word count, then she lifted her eyes to read the words on the screen. She was skimming, but she thought she had enough information to go off of. Red lips. White-blonde hair. Pin-up girl. “Do I get royalties off this too?”
Her joke caused you to laugh, “It was hard not to- Well you are just so-”
You were fumbling. How do you tell her that she is the most beautiful woman you had ever seen? Well, turns out you didn’t have to. Your writing did the talking or you.
“She was the most beautiful being I had laid eyes on. Her beauty was ethereal?” As she read your words aloud, she almost felt embarrassed that someone felt that way about her. 
“Yes.” You looked intently at her, earning yourself a smirk as she shifted her jaw back and forth, almost like she wanted to challenge you. Instead, she leaned forward to place a kiss on the corner of your mouth, leaving the most lovely of lipstick stains. 
“I have work,” She stood, not ready to hear more compliments today. Turns out she didn’t believe herself to be the ethereal goddess you saw her as. She took her coffee, and kept speaking to you as she walked backwards towards the door, “I will see you tomorrow.”
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jamneuromain · 7 months
Text
Wishful Thinking Chpt. 9
Andy Barber x You (Reader), no use of Y/N
Alternate Universe - College AU
Summary: A new semester. A new task. A new boyfriend, your previous professor, Andy Barber. Everything seems to be going on the right track. So why didn't it?
Warning: Angst, possessive behavior, inappropriate teacher-student relationship, power imbalance, age difference, cheating, explicit language, toxic dom/sub relationship, more arguments
A/N: This fic has some disturbing themes, and discusses potentially upsetting topics. Please read through the warning before engaging with the fic. As I have said, the fic has mentioned a number of (potentially) triggering and heavy topics, you don't have to engage further if you feel uncomfortable about one or more topics.
A/N 2: Aaaaaaaaaaaaand I'm back! I'm feeling way better and I'm merging towards my social life as well. I did a litte editing and changing on part 8 where they argued. But it doesn't affect the plot. Feel free to check it out :3 Two more chapters and WT will be completed (I hope I'll get it done by December based on my current speed lmao)
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Wishful Thinking M. List Dancing in the Daydream M. List
Dear all,
I hope this reaches you well. This email is to remind those of you who have yet to submit your form for assigning a supervisor…
You have been looking at this email for quite some time. Opening the link at the bottom of this email too. But you haven’t made a move yet.
You have thought about having Andy as your supervisor, but that idea sounded like a lifetime ago. And now, there’s no way you’d let Andy be your supervisor.
How are you going to face him? This is more than just some misunderstanding from last semester. This is you two breaking up. Broken up. Whatever.
You are not making him your supervisor.
Taking a deep breath, you text a reply to the message your barely-friend Fiona sent you half an hour ago.
Fiona: Are you going to choose Barber as your supervisor?
You: No. Klein.
A few more messages come from Fiona after you send it. But you ignore them, knowing that she’d be asking dumb questions.
No, probing questions like “what are you going to write for your dissertation” or “should I include my pilot study into my dissertation” or other things that she wants to make an impression in front of her supervisor without “borrowing” from your answers first.
Bitch.
You feel like screaming. Which you did, after punching your mattress and burying your head into the pillow. Only lifting your head when you are completely out of breath.
With everything that happened with Andy, Laurie, Fiona and your schoolwork, it feels like nothing could alleviate you from the endless mess of self-doubt and self-hatred. Hating others as well. Hating your friend choices. Hating your boyfriend choices. Hating your school which led you to him. Hating everyone and every being on this very planet.
Hating yourself.
“Fucking hell.” You mumble to yourself. Pulling your laptop close to fill in the form for dissertation supervisors.
Typing word for word of your dissertation title, and selecting “Joanna Klein” as your preferred supervisor.
I hate my life. The idea keeps floating in your head like the obnoxious bubbles in a soda can, spritzing tiny drops of irritating reality into your face.
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Andy has just received the email from Joanna Klein to all available lecturers and professors about supervising students in their dissertations.
He found the familiar name – your name – in a heartbeat. Merely sticking out his lips and making what Laurie would call “a bitch face”, as he found your name under the list of students under the supervision of Joanna Klein.
The pure imagination of pulling the strings behind your dissertation, of having a say in what you could not refuse, seeing you writhing under his grasp, gets his blood pumping in his veins.
He’s probably sick to the bones. One brief moment of clarity tells him so. To get high just to watch you struggling in his control. The adrenaline rush of knowing you are helpless, having no one to turn to but him.
He probably needs help.
But who needs help, when you, the most direct and sufficing way of satisfying his hunger, practically serve your weakness on a silver platter?
Andy pulls his chair closer to the desk, makes up his mind, and starts typing on the keyboard.
He is doing what’s best for you.
You might not see it that way for now but…
You’ll understand, eventually.
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Andy sits in his office. Waiting. Patiently. Tapping his fingers on the table surface, as he looks out of the window.
It has only been a while, since you last came to his office to deliver his suit and your breakup.
However, things turned rather quickly, as there was no room for argument as the final version of the list containing supervisor and their students to tutor through the dissertation was settled as the last nail in the coffin.
Five students, students that he is going to supervise, are about to enter that door. And one of them being you.
He grins, thinking of the fact that you are tied to him for the rest of the term time.
No use running. He rolls your name on his tongue silently. He’s far beyond any help could ever achieve in pulling him back. He wants you, one way or another.
He’d keep you, treat you like the precious thing he adores, if you behave.
If you do not… well, there are more than a few ways that he can think of to devour you.
He’d keep you, one way or another.
Five students, including you, walked through that door, sitting on the chairs that he prepared. You picked the seat furthest from him, in a small corner. Didn’t make eye contact. No friendly “hello”. No nothing.
He doesn’t mind.
He knows that you are still mad about your little dispute.
He will tolerate it, knowing that you still love him.
He will explain, tell you that he will fight tooth and nail for you. Tell you that you could start over. He was being unreasonable. He was frustrated and angry, and he lashed out on you, that he was sorry about it all.
Later. He will explain later.
Andy clears his throat, folding his hands on his stomach, “Today we’ll start by having a brief introduction of yourselves. You obviously know me, since I’ve taught you all, but I would still like it if you could introduce yourself to each other. You can tell us about your name, something about yourself, and also tell us about what you are planning to write for your dissertation…”
He pays no special attention to you. He comments, nods, and gives useful suggestions based on everyone’s self-introduction.
“I understand I’m asking for a lot of work in a short amount of time. However, I would expect you to produce a general frame of your dissertation by the next meeting, which is two weeks from now. In the framework, you’ll be talking about how you want to approach your topic-” He stops Fiona from scribbling on her notebook, but ignores you who are doing the same. What can he say, he favors you in the smallest of details, “I’ll send you all an email after this meeting for the framework you’ll be writing about. The topic, the details you are going to investigate, the methodology – I’m sure Professor Rifkin has explained this in her class, and also, keep an open mind when you are writing the dissertation, especially for those who are employing a qualitative method to analyze their data. Any questions?”
You are the first to rush out of his office after he declares that today’s session has come to an end.
He waits until the last student has left the floor before heading out.
The entire floor is quiet. Dead. Deserted.
His shoes barely make a sound on the soft carpet as he steps out of his office, finding you on the floor, sitting on the carpet. You have opened your laptop, but it seems blank.
You gain your consciousness when he approaches, looking up at him. A sigh leaving your lips before you speak, “You did this.”
Not a question, but a firm sentence.
You know he was behind this transfer of dissertation supervisors.
Andy neither confirms nor denies. He cocks his head slightly, looking at your tired expression, “You will need to work on your methodology. Your arguments wouldn’t be convincing if you only state the method for your dissertation.”
“Can’t we be those ex-es like friends? Stop torturing each other over the fact that we broke up? Can you just leave me alone?” You take a deep breath, saying the words that you know he will be disapproving of.
He takes a seat on the couch in the open space, about three feet from where you are sitting, but he doesn’t have to put extra pressure on his neck looking at you from above.
Andy interlaces his fingers into a fist, his thumbs tapping each other.
To tell the truth, he couldn’t. He couldn’t let go of you. Couldn’t watch you go away.
“Look-” Seeing him unresponsive to your plead, you change your tactics, switching into defiance, “If you want to be a bitch about our relationship, I will have to put in a request to the faculty about changing my supervisor.”
Andy lets out a cold, hard laugh. Raising his eyebrows in disbelief, Andy “kindly” tells you about the regulation that runs around the place: “Nice try getting rid of me, sweetheart. But even if you do, and that’s a big ‘if’, you would still have to write your dissertation, and during scoring, your dissertation would be assigned to lecturers based on your topic. And I know all your topics, sweetheart.”
Your lips visibly tremble in fear, so are your arms, “You wouldn’t.”
“Watch me.” His tone turns sharp, “I can put an A into your months of work, or an F. Your choice.”
“Yeah? And what should I do for an A?” You shut your laptop with a loud snap, jumping from the spot on the floor to your feet. Clenching your teeth and hissing like venom burns your mouth, you challenge him even further, “Suck your dick, Professor Barber?”
“Be nice, sweetheart. I’m trying to be a friend.” Andy narrows his eyes, the threat in his tone is evident, “First of, I suggest you to be respectful when talking to me.”
You glare at him with fire burning in your eyes.
“I'm not a monster, sweetheart. But if you poke me like that, I don't mind putting a little discipline inside that pretty little brain of yours. Try to stay on my good side, yeah?” Andy stands to his full height, buttoning his suit jacket as he stands up, casually tugging the hem of his shirt and his tie. After tiding himself up, Andy lifts his hand to caress your jaw.
You jerk your head on instinct but his fingers dig into your neck, reminding you, painfully, of the night that he went overboard and fucked your throat.
His grip softens when he feels you freeze on spot. Tracing his thumb on your jawline, he murmurs, “Remember, sweetheart? I'm your Dom. I tell you something, and you do it.”
“You're not my fucking Dom.” You grit out.
“Still bratty, I see. You're a handful but I doubt there's anything that can't be solved by some punishments.”
His thumb forces you to lift your chin, even so, you refuse to look at him.
It takes you a few seconds to regain your voice, “You can't expect me to whore out myself.”
If that’s what he’s asking.
Andy presses a small kiss to your temple, whispering by your ear, “I don't really mind, sweetheart, as long as it is you.”
Some sense finally comes to you, your body shakes like a leaf in both fear and fury, you try to sound tough, but it comes out no better than a whimper, “I could report you to the board of malpractice.”
“And I have a lawyer friend, honey. He's the best in town. God knows how long a lawsuit can take. 18 months? 24?”
“Honey” was usually meant for Laurie, but he is beyond caring which endearment belongs to whom at this point.
“You're ... evil.” You want to move, but you cannot, not when he’s still having an iron grip over your neck.
“Maybe.” Andy shrugs, letting go of your neck, “Now run along before I do something evil, like fucking you over my desk.”
You pack your things as fast as you can, leaving the place without another word.
The rest of the term time passed in a blur. He attends your graduation ceremony with a heart-felt smile, knowing well that he black-mailed you into accepting his supervision and that you have an impeccable dissertation as he almost looked through every word of it, which probably violated ten faculty rules, if not twenty.
He is still clapping when you receive the graduation certificate from Joanna Klein, while he stands on the side. The next thing he knows, you are rushing towards him with a knife in your hand, carving his chest almost in half and he dies before the ambulance can reach the hospital.
His soul floats in mid-air as he watches everything pans out.
Laurie takes over everything, every property in their marriage.
You are charged with murder, serving your life-sentence in a max-security prison.
And Laurie… Laurie divorced him and marries the man she was having an affair with, decorating Andy’s house into a shit-yellow color, laughing and doesn’t have to worry about the rest of her life since she has all the money, cars, and houses that she could get their hands on…
Andy wakes up screaming.
Panting.
Taking a few seconds to realize that he is not in a ghost state and that he is still alive.
Alive. Awake. In his home. In the middle of the night.
Everything in the dream felt so real. Like it actually happened.
Andy touches his chest, where the skin and flesh are intact.
He is still alive.
He sweated through his sheet.
Another few seconds pass and he stays up, hands over his face, recalling the horrible dream.
The absolute nightmare where he told Joanna to switch you to his-
Shit.
He pulls himself over the bed and snatches his phone from the nightstand, checking his email.
The sudden blue light from his phone has him cursing. After flipping over his inbox and finding that he received the email of supervising students yesterday, but hasn’t made a move yet, he lets out an exhale of relief.
He groans and lies back to the bed. His heart still pounding frantically.
A string of curses flies out of his mouth.
Rest assured that he is not going to pull a favor and get you assigned to him.
But he wants you so bad.
How can he live when he wants you so bad and he pissed you off by saying the most harmful things that could be ever said to you?
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