#i was going to yesterday but i had to lock in and finish a trade fic | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

crowdedimagines · 20 days ago

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Tailspin - Bradley Bradshaw

summary: Bradley Bradshaw was happy to retire to the small town of Southport with his two children after their mother had passed. He traded in training pilots at Top Gun in San Diego to being a fire chief for a small town of 3,000. What he doesn't expect in his small town is a new neighbor who captures his attention. She's making the cross country move from New York promising never to fall for a man quickly ever again and then she meets the hot single dad next door. Yeah right. Between the two of them and everything they have going on in their lives on they going to fall out in a Tailspin?

🤭8.7K omg my baby single dad Bradley and neighbor!yn what else could a girl want?Warnings: domestic violence, stalking, use of Y/n

✿

The loud and clunky engine of the moving truck breaks up the usually peaceful houses that sit all in a row this Saturday afternoon in Southport, California. It wasn’t a surprise to anyone once a shiny red sold sign got slapped on the sale sign for the old McCallum property. They knew it would be inevitable that someone new would be joining their neighborhood.

Y/n is trying to find the driveway to the house that she’s only seen in person once. Yesterday as a matter of fact when she made the deposit and signed all the paperwork. She manages to park and make her way around to the back of the truck when she sees a young girl standing at the end of her driveway, still on the sidewalk.

“Hi.” The little girl calls out. She has a piece of chalk in one hand and a bucket with twenty different colors in the other.

“Hi there.” Y/n smiles, she reaches back to swing the lock on the truck and push the large door open to reveal all of her belongings. Thankfully most things look like they made it intact and she didn’t send anything flying around back there.

“Did you just move here?” The young girl asks. She doesn’t move her feet from where they are planted on the sidewalk, but leans in to look at all of the stuff in the truck.

“I did-”

“Did you know I live next door?” The little girl interrupts, taking a few steps closer onto her driveway. She points to the house sitting to the right of where they stand.

“No.” The woman pauses to chuckle, “I did not know that.”

“Did you come all by yourself?” The young girl asks another question and smiles brightly at the woman in front of her.

“Yeah.” The woman continues to smile down at the curious young girl. She sees her golden curls that sit wildly in a ponytail on the top of her head. Most of it is escaping the small pink tie, Y/n can tell she’s spent a fair amount of time today pushing the stray curls back out of her face.

“That’s pretty cool.” The little girl smiles finally, “My daddy would never let me do that.”

“No, probably not.” Y/n squats down next to the girl to be at eye level, “Once you’re an adult though, you can do whatever you want. That’s the fun part.”

“That’s pretty cool.” Her grin grows wider.

“You must be an artist.” Y/n nods to the chalk still in hand.

“Yeah, I am.” The girl attempts to push the loose curls back away from her face, streaking a pale line of pink chalk across her face making Y/n bite back a laugh. “I’m starting the sidewalk because I filled up the driveway.”

“Do your parents know you’re over here?” Y/n asks, looking around to see who the girl could belong to. How far has she strayed to come say hello.

“My dad is in the backyard with my brother, they’re working on a new swing set. ”

“Maybe we should get you back over there-”

“Where did you come from?” The young girl asks yet another question before Y/n can finish her question.

“Sadie!” A voice calls loudly making them both look up. A tall man with a matching set of curls is making his way around the neighboring house up to the front yard. “Bug, what did I say about leaving the yard?”

He holds his hands up outstretched with concern as he makes his way down the driveway to the sidewalk to make his way over to join them.

Truth be told, Bradley had heard the loud vehicle enter the neighborhood and a few minutes later when he looked around and his youngest was out of sight he knew where she was likely exploring.

“I wanted to come over to meet her.” Sadie explains while she looks back up to the woman standing next to them with an amused smile, “What’s your name?”

“Y/n.” She looks up to Bradley and reaches out a hand out to introduce herself to the man in front of her, “Y/n Y/LN, I just moved in. Or at least I'm about to start the move in.”

She nods to the house behind her and Bradley reaches out to shake her hand.

“Bradley Bradshaw.” His hand is significantly bigger than hers, rough with life from work but still warm.

“Nice to meet you.” She covers her face from the sun for a second so she can look at the tall man in front of her.

“So someone finally decides to tackle the McCallum house.” Bradley smiles, “It’s a beautiful property.”

“Thank you.” She pushes her hands in her back pockets and forces herself to look away and admire the view instead. The beachfront property is close enough to the water that they can hear the waves. “It’s going to be quite the project.”

“You tackling it alone?” He asks, raising a brow.

“Trying to. We’ll see how long until I throw in the towel and hire out. This is my summer project so I’ll be pretty focused on it.”

“Where’d you move from?” He asks, Sadie grows bored with the conversation and plops down on the ground between the two and begins drawing a flower with the same pink chalk in hand. Now that the adults are talking she forgets that she had been the one to ask that question initially.

“Sadie, this isn’t our driveway. You need to ask first.” Bradley gently reminds.

“Sorry-”

“It’s okay, Sadie.” Y/n crouches down next to her again. “Maybe I could get some of your beautiful artwork right here.”

She points to the area they stand in and Sadie quickly goes back to work.

“I’m from New York City actually.” She stands back up to look at him while answering his previous question.

“Wow, that’s a complete change of pace. You do realize Southport is about as quiet as it gets, right? I think we only have five stop lights.” Bradley chuckles.

“We’re less than an hour away from San Diego, so if I never need to get my city fix I can head down there.”

“I know that drive well, I actually moved here to Southport from San Diego. I was a pilot in the Navy and taught at Top Gun down there.”

“Oh wow.” Her face shows how impressed she is, “Are you still in the Navy then?”

“No, actually I got out right after she was born.” He gestures down to the girl seated below, she’s working on a bee now. “I actually run the fire department here in Southport.”

“How often do you see anything crazy in this town?” She asks, trying not to focus too much on how tight his tee shirt is stretching across his biceps.

“I will say there are more cats stuck in trees than fires most days, but I’m okay with that.”

“Good. I’m sure you got your fill of crazy being a pilot.”

Is there a Mrs. Bradshaw? She finds it hard to believe that a man that looks like this could possibly be single, but the way he’s looking at her makes her think otherwise. Is it really possible he’s sleazy enough to flirt with the new neighbor in front of his daughter if he’s married?

“I could tell some stories, that's for sure. In fact-”

“Dad!”

They all pick up their heads to see another member of the family standing in the driveway. The boy must be Sadie’s brother, she had mentioned him earlier. Y/n would guess that he’s around ten and Sadie seems around five years old. He is a total copy and paste of his dad standing in front of her.

“Bud, we’ll be right back over. Why don’t you go ahead and head in and get washed up.” He doesn’t respond to Bradley, but just turns around and takes off for the front door.

“Well I’m Bradley and you’ve already met my daughter who is going to give me grey hair before I can turn forty.” He grins making Y/n laugh. He’s even more delicious up close, and Y/n gives herself a second to picture him as a silver fox. It still works.

“Yeah, she was the welcoming party for the neighborhood. It was very much appreciated.” She reaches down to fistbump the girl making her giggle.

“Yeah, she’s a stray who wanders the neighborhood even though she knows she’s not supposed to.” He scolds, reminding her while she guiltily looks away. “If she ever comes bugging you, feel free to send her in the direction of home!”

“I don’t know, I’ll never turn down free labor.” Y/n jokes, turning back towards the truck to start unloading things.

“Well, if you ever need any help with anything I’m just next door.” His eyes rake down her figure and she can tell he does it without thinking when his eyes widen. Sadie continues her own grin obliviously standing between the two of them.

“Let’s get you washed up Bug.” Bradley hoists her up onto his shoulder and walks in the direction of his own driveway. “It was great to meet you, Y/n. Welcome to Southport.”

“Nice to meet you Y/n.” Sadie echos with giggles from the top of her dads shoulder.

“Bye guys!” She waves and makes her way back to the truck ready to get started on hauling everything inside.

✿

It was early afternoon when she pulled up to the house and it’s dark out by the time she emptied the entire truck. Doing a close walkthrough of everything it’s alarming how much work the house really needs. Most of it is cosmetic, but some things she knows she’ll need more than a Youtube video to accomplish. She doesn’t have a car yet, but Southport is a small enough town she can walk the short distance into town when she needs things. She meets her neighbor on the other side of her house that morning before leaving. Iris is in her seventies and has lived there for the past forty years. She welcomes her onto the porch for some lemonade.

“So what brings you to Southport?” The lady asks, taking in the younger woman.

“I needed a change of scenery and Southport was the perfect little beach town to settle into. I was looking for something a little quieter than New York.” Y/n admits.

“Well, something tells me there’s more to that story, but we can table it for a rainy day. Here in Southport you definitely found quiet.” Iris rocks her chair looking out to the neighborhood, “Although it’s more exciting now that you’re here!”

“I don’t know about that.” She shakes her head, still reeling over the fact she wants more information. Information Y/n doesn’t need to be handing out to her new neighbors, this is her fresh start. “Trust me, you’ll be the talk of the town! I see that you’ve already met Bradley.”

“Yes, his daughter was actually first on the scene for the small town gossip.” Y/n teases.

“Isn’t Bradley something?” Iris wags her eyebrows causing Y/n to roll her eyes, “He’s available.”

“He is?”

Iris nods and explains the story of the boy next door. Five years ago his wife Anna passed away from cancer. She was pregnant with Sadie and barely made it long enough to deliver. After that happened, Bradley moved their family to the quieter town where he felt he could be a single dad. He’s spent the past five years here in Southport and is now the fire chief for SFD. Y/n never would’ve guessed that Sadie had lost her mom with how bubbly she was.

Iris continues to tell her more about the town, the things she should know while they finish their lemonade. Y/n decides to return the empty moving truck and pick up some things at the hardware store so she can get started on some of the projects. She makes laps and laps through the hardware store and becomes well acquainted with Hank who runs it. Hank has had the store for several years and she’s asked nearly a dozen questions and he’s walked her through every single one thoroughly.

The bell chimes as the door swings open to the small shop. She picks up her head only to meet the familiar brown eyes of her neighbor Bradley. Small town indeed.

“Hey neighbor.” He pulls his sunglasses off and puts them on top of his head while walking up to her.

“Hey, how do you feel about a yellow kitchen?” She holds up a paint sample of a bright yellow. The sample shows six shades, but her finger points to a soft butter yellow.

“Your kitchen faces out to the beach, right?” He leans against her shopping cart, looking over her cart and the various things in it. “That’ll be bright with the sun reflecting out on the water.”

“That's kinda the point.” She squints down at the sample still in hand, “I was going for blinding.”

He snorts and looks up to the color again. The one she’s picked is by far the least horrendous of the options, but he’s still not convinced.

“I’m afraid I’ll have to see it to believe it.” He snorts.

“Well, I’m afraid I’ll just have to prove you wrong then.” She pushes her cart away, effectively nudging him with the cart. She makes her way up to the counter to order a gallon of that color and grab a gallon of primer as well. Bradley follows her to the counter and waits while she checks out for everything and Hank starts mixing her order.

“Hey, Hank.” Bradley greets as he steps up to the register.

“Bradley, I got your order in back! Just a second.” Hank leaves to go grab the order and he’s gone for a minute before he comes back with a large package of sidewalk chalk. Y/n grins while still waiting on her paint, but she knows exactly who the chalk is for.

“Here ya go!” Hank hands him the box, “Let me know when we need to order some more and I’ll bring it in.”

“Thanks Hank.” Bradley pays for the chalk before saying goodbye to them, waving to Y/n as he makes his way back out into the blazing California heat. Y/n is waiting for a few minutes for the paint, but Hank gives her extra stir sticks and throws in an edging tool for free to help her out.

“Where’s your car?” Bradley asks, looking around the parking lot that is vacant save for the Bronco he’s sitting in. She looks up from the sidewalk to see her neighbor has waited for her. The Bronco she’s seen in the driveway next door is running, and he’s sitting inside with the window down. His sunglasses are back on his face. She adjusts her grip with a can in each hand and a bag or two of supplies hooked on various fingers. “You need a ride?”

“I’m a big girl. I didn’t have a car in New York, but getting one is part of the summer project.” Her voice light and carrying a hint of humor.

“You’re going to need a car in this town if you’re gonna make it.” Bradley can barely stand it watching the sun beating down on her while she adjusts her grip again. His mother would smack him if she could see him sitting comfortably in the car while she’s beginning to sweat. She just needs to let him give her a ride home. It’s a hot day in Southport and home is at least a mile away. “Even if you city folk are too good for them.”

“Here I was thinking now that I’m out of the city I can have the luxury of a vehicle.” She teases, “But maybe not, you car people sound kinda judgy.”

Bradley laughs out an exhale through his nose. He has to give it to her, she’s got a little bite back which makes her even more intriguing. He would struggle to admit it, but the girl next door is the first person to pique his interest in years. He knew it the second he saw her crouched down next to his daughter with a gorgeous smile. This is something new to him, not something he’s felt at all in the past five years. It’s something Bradley didn’t have the time for. Two kids and a busy job kept him more than entertained, even if it meant going home to a cold bed. He watches her wave her hand as best she can with everything she’s holding before throwing a smile over her shoulder and continuing her walk through the parking lot.

“Let me give you a ride back.” He insists, swinging the door of the Bronco open to get out, he doesn’t want to let her get far. He waited long enough, but his mom seriously would roll over in her grave if he let her walk away. “You’re right on the way and it’s the least I can do for being so judgy. Especially for a neighbor.”

She pauses her steps and turns to see him already walking around the back to open his trunk. He leans against the back while she debates, her grip on the thin metal handle slips a little. The sun beating straight down on them isn’t helping her case. Her hands are sweating and it’s starting to dig in. He shrugs his shoulders, his mustache can’t block the slight smirk he’s maintained this entire interaction.

“Alright, I give. My hand is cramping.” She pivots to make her way back in his direction. Bradley meets her halfway to take the gallon of primer from her and load it with everything else into his trunk. He shuts it and quickly makes his way around to the passenger door to pull it open for her. She smiles and thanks him while climbing into the truck. She takes in her surroundings a bit once he shuts the door, the car smells like him. It’s almost overwhelming. There’s a tear in the leather that she runs a finger along on the bench seat, the vehicle is old but very well loved and maintained. She can see a booster seat in the back before Bradley climbs into the car and backs out of their spot.

Bradley knew the house she had moved into fairly well with it being right next door, he had checked it out when it listed and he was curious. It needed a lot of work. More work needed than the one he settled on next door, but he could argue she had a slightly better view. A larger stretch of beach for the larger house. Both houses back up to the water and sit on a popular stretch of beach for the small town. Houses on the beach needed extra love to stay nice, and with how long it sat on the market it’ll need a lot of it.

“So lots of plans for the house then?” Bradley asks, the windows are down letting in a breeze. The wind is the only other noise other than the radio that is still playing softly.

“This is the start really, I’m taking things as they come. I know renovations can be pretty unpredictable so I’m trying to take it one step at a time.” She admits, “I’m starting with the kitchen and first floor since it needs the most work.”

“You’re experienced in renovating then?” He asks, his eyes peek off the road in front of them to dart to her. He takes in her legs that are on full display in her shorts, her hand rests on the windows ledge wiggling with the breeze.

“Not at all.” She laughs as his eyes go wide, “I’ve barely picked up a screwdriver unless you count putting together Ikea furniture.”

“and you’re tackling that entire house by yourself?”

“You don’t know this about me yet, but I’m quite stubborn when it comes to getting my way-“

“Never would’ve guessed.” He mutters.

“What I mean is-“ she rolls her eyes, “When I set my mind to something I’ll achieve it. I can do this. I’m determined.”

“I actually have no doubt.” His voice is laced with sincerity and it makes her flush warm inside. She doesn’t know why it suddenly matters what her neighbor thinks of her project, but she’s happy someone else thinks she can do it.

“Thank you.”

The rest of the short drive is quiet, but it’s comfortable. Bradley wants the drive to last a little longer, but they approach their street faster than he would like. He backs into her driveway to help her unload everything.

“Thank you, I’m sure I would be sweating my ass off only halfway home by now.” She takes the can of primer from his hand and sets it down on the porch by her front door.

“Happy to.” He grins, taking a step backwards off her steps back onto the sidewalk while still looking up at her, “You’ll find that I can be very helpful.”

“You better watch out, I’ll take you up on it.” Her cheeks dust pink from his blatant flirting, but she’s enjoying the butterflies he’s giving her. It’s been a long time since a man has given her butterflies feeling so high school.

“I’m counting on it.” He nods and continues his walk back to the bronco to move it to his side of the white picket fence. She shakes her head but is unable to wipe the smile from her face even while she carries everything inside. Before she can pull the door shut she hears a voice call her name, she peeks her head out to see Iris is still sitting on her own front porch.

“Well that was awfully nice for him to give you a ride back.” Iris smiles into her lemonade taking a long sip.

“Iris, I’m starting to think you’re the cause for all the small town gossip.” She shakes her head with a smile, “I ran into him at the hardware store and I don’t have a car here yet.”

“Mhm, sure baby.” Iris nods and continues to rock slowly on the porch.

✿

For days Y/n sets off to work on the house and hit the ground running. She realizes in her research she really shouldn’t paint yet since she wants to resurface the cabinets. She learns how to do that, and after several trips to Hank she manages to sand them down, stain them, change her mind, sand them, restain them and fall in love. It took days but she's happy with the results.

She also spent an afternoon in the front yard cleaning it up. She was joined by Sadie who kept her company while covering her driveway in doodles.

“What else can I add?” Sadie asks. Today's theme was ocean so she’s managed to fill a lot of the space already with fish, coral, sharks, and everything else they can both think of.

“How about a sea turtle?” Y/n continues pulling at weeds trying to clean up some from the flower beds.

“Sea turtle!” Sadie shouts, loving the idea.

“Hey, ladies.”

Y/n picks up her head to see Bradley walking out towards them. Over the past week they have interacted a couple times. He had a busy stretch at the station where Y/n really didn’t see him or the Bronco at all for a few days. It was nice however for a couple days not really having to worry about the hot guy next door while being a sweaty mess. So much for that now.

“Hey.” They both call back.

“I’m embarrassed to say she escaped me long enough to have accomplished this much.” He looks over the expanse of driveway covered in pastel scribbles in vague fish shapes.

“Daddy, I think Miss Y/n knows more sharks than you.” Sadie doesn’t pick up her focus from the sea turtle she’s working on.

“No way!”

“Mhm, she knows what a tiger shark is too.”

“Wow-”

“Dad, I’m meeting Tanner at the fishing pier.” His son makes another appearance. In all of her interactions with Sadie and Bradley, he’s still a stranger to her. He doesn’t ever leave the beach or his bedroom according to Sadie.

“Nick, what time do you need to be back?” Bradley asks, turning to watch his son walk down the trail to the beach.

“Seven, Dad.”

“No later-”

“No later than 7:00pm for dinner. I know, Dad.” He continues his walk and Bradley simply shakes his head.

“Ten going on twenty.” Bradley jokes, breaking the tension. Sadie hadn’t even picked her head up so it would seem this isn’t out of the ordinary.

“I don’t even want to picture me talking back to my parents. I’m lucky we made it through my teenage years.” She smiles with a gentle laugh, “What about you? Is this some karmic debt for being a terrible teen?”

Bradley chuckles before diving into a few stories of his high school years and admits he probably gave his mom a few wrinkles before she passed. He also explains he didn’t know his dad long enough for that.

“How’d you haul the mulch here?” Bradley questions, changing the subject. He noticed the yard had been cleaned up, but only just noticed the mulch in the flower beds she had been working on before he came over.

“Iris let me take her car. Apparently she doesn't like driving much anymore.”

“I could’ve taken you.”

“Wanted to be my knight in shining armor again?” She asks with a confident laugh.

“Maybe.” He admits, “So, when do I get to see that yellow kitchen of yours?”

“Wanna see?” She takes off the gardening gloves. Sadie jumps to follow, finally setting down the chalk. Bradley wordlessly follows them both up the steps.

She pulls open the screen door that sits in front of her front door, it squeaks loudly as she pulls it back. Bradley reaches out to push it back and forth a few times.

“Sorry, I know it’s obnoxious.” She nods her head to invite them in anyway.

“Hold on, I can fix that.” He leaves the two girls on the porch briefly and walks over to his garage only coming back with a red toolbox. He opens and closes the door a few times again, looking at the hinges. Y/n shrugs to Sadie while they watch him work some magic with WD-40 and a screwdriver.

“That should do it.” Bradley takes a step back and pulls it back again, this time it’s silent as he moves it open and closed.

“Okay, you’re definitely getting recruited to help now.” Y/n beams and it makes Bradley smile too. He can’t remember the last time he was this happy to see someone else happy. Sure, he was a good person and liked when people were happy, but something was different about being the cause of her grin.

He follows her in and immediately Sadie takes off to explore. Bradley has to admit, it does already look nice in here. He’s sure just having furniture in the space helps from when he first saw it. It’s brighter in each room he walks through though, it would seem she’s primed all the walls, but there's a lack of yellow as he walks through the first floor.

“I haven’t gotten to the yellow quite yet, but it’s not because I’m scared to commit!”

“Yeah right-” Bradley smiles mischievously.

“No no, it just turns out you shouldn’t start with that if you have a lot else to do. I sanded and stained the cabinets though!”

She proudly poses in front of one and Bradley has to admit it looks nice. She hasn’t changed any of the house's character, but she’s refreshing the space.

“Okay, I’m impressed.”

“I would say that now I can start the yellow. In fact-” She grabs the gallon can off the floor and shakes it before cracking it open. Bradley picks Sadie up to rest on his hip and take a peek of the color.

“What do you think of it, Sadie?” Y/n asks, leaning against the counter eyeing the younger girl.

“I like it!” She cheers.

“I do too!” She nods her head to Bradley to prove her point.

“Congrats on having the same preferences as a five year old.” His voice dripping with sarcasm.

“I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that.” She rolls her eyes and focuses her attention on Sadie, “Would you like to do me the honor of the first bit of paint on the wall?”

It takes a minute to get them set up with paint brushes and rollers. Bradley takes on the higher parts of the walls, working along the entire upper trim. Y/n helps Sadie get set up on a blank wall with a small brush and grabs a roller for herself. It goes fast with the two of them, Sadie also contributing on her wall.

“Can I hire your guys full time?” Y/n asks, taking a full step back to admire their work.

“Can’t afford me, babe.” Bradley teases.

“Yeah, me neither babe.” Sadie mimics her Dad causing everyone to break out in a laugh.

“Okay.” Y/n dramatically backs up into the archway between the kitchen and the living room. “It’s still drying, but what do we think?”

Sadie runs over to stand by her and take in the view as well, she waves over Bradley to do the same. He looks at the two girls standing there and how serious they’re both being. With his arms crossed over his chest he walks over to take in the kitchen and the brand new walls.

The kitchen has a large window that looks out on the deck and beyond to the ocean. The sun is shining bright today, but it wouldn’t matter if it wasn’t because the room is bright enough on its own. The stain on the cabinets compliment it well and warm up the place.

“I have to admit, it looks good.”

“Right?” Y/n cheers, she breaks out a few goofy dance moves before pulling Sadie around to spin with her.

“You have a lemon kitchen now!” Sadie keeps dancing, letting out a goofy laugh.

“A lemon kitchen?” Y/n’s jaw drops.

“What’s next?” Bradley asks, he paces around looking at everything.

“Pretty soon I’m tackling updating that bathroom,” She points to one down the hall, “I had a wonderful idea to open this up and round it off, but I have no idea how to do that. I don’t know if this is load bearing.”

She reaches up to the large square archway that goes between the kitchen and living room. Bradley reaches up to examine it a little. A rounded arch would look nice, and you would have a better view from the living room.

“I have to go to the bathroom.” Sadie announces, Y/n points to the same door down the hall and tells her she’s more than welcomed to use it. She comes back to find Bradley inspecting the arch himself.

“I could help with that. I can’t today because I have to take that one to a dance class in a little bit.”

“I couldn’t ask you to do that.” She shakes her head, “That's a big project, helping me paint was already more than enough.”

“What if we make it a date?”

“A date?” She asks, laughing with a bit of shock. There have been flirty conversations when they interact, but she’s surprised he’s so forward.

“Unless you aren’t interested.” Bradley quickly deflects with a nervous laugh, “We haven’t really talked about if we’re both single and-”

“I’m single.” She smirks, it’s fun and so far it’s been rare to see Bradley unsure of anything, “and I’m interested.”

Bradley sighs in relief at her admission. It would make for an awkward couple of weeks living next door to the first woman he’s hit on since his wife passed.

“How about this-” He regains confidence now, “You provide beer and pizza, and I’ll bring over everything we need to do this.”

He points up to the arch and she nods to agree. Sadie comes back out and reminds him her dance class is soon and she still needs to go home to change. Bradley says he can get a babysitter for the next night and it’s a date.

✿

“Slight change of plans.” Y/n opens the door wider for Bradley and the two children standing in front of him. “My normal sitter got the flu so she couldn’t, so my friend Jake promised to help out, but the open problem is he’s also a firefighter and when I’m not there, he needs to be.”

Jake is one of his Navy buddies, Y/n remembers the name. He retired two years ago and made the move up here to the small town where his god daughter lives.

“That's okay.” Her voice light, “Happy you guys could still make it.”

“Nick, have you met Y/n?” Bradley asks.

“Hi.” He barely looks up from the switch in his hands. He couldn’t be less interested.

“Hey, Nick. Nice to meet you.”

Bradley has to nudge him to reciprocate the sentiment. He mutters a ‘yeah whatever’ before they both launch off to the couch while the couple lingers by the door.

“These are for you.” Bradley pulls a bouquet of yellow daisies from behind his back.

“Thank you.” She can’t help but smile widely. The yellow is perfect, and she’s pretty sure she’s unpacked a vase she can use for them. Bradley looks her over, scanning for any hint of irritation at his plus two for the night.

It wasn’t his plan at all, and he’s interested enough he was genuinely scared of scaring her off by doing this. She’s already been so good with Sadie. Deep down he knows that if she had a big reaction to this, she wouldn’t be the one for him. His children are a priority to him, it can’t hurt to know that from day one. She doesn’t seem upset at all.

Bradley heads back outside to get some of his tools needed and Y/n gets Sadie set up with Moana on the TV and Nick focuses on his switch still glued to his hands. She called for a pizza delivery one for them and adding a cheese too for the kids, Bradley didn’t even have to ask.

“So, Navy pilot turned fire chief?” She asks, reaching out for her bottle of beer. They’ve got everything set up and he told her the game plan for how they’ll do everything. She knows things about him, but they don’t know a lot about each other. Y/n has gotten more from Iris about him than himself other than cheeky comments.

“Yeah, I wanted to stay active. It would’ve been a big shift to go from that to a desk job.” He pulls down the piece of drywall he just cut off.

“Trust me, the muscles are appreciated.” She blatantly ogles him, causing him a rare blush.

“Thank you, thank you.” He nods in his spot, “Yeah, I started off volunteering, which turned into working full time, which turned into the old chief retiring last year.”

“Was the stache a requirement for the position?” She teases, he snorts out a laugh.

“No, I had it before, believe it or not.” He grins.

Building out the rounded arch is a little more extensive as a project and she’s glad she’s got Bradley’s help as he walks her through everything they're doing. It takes a few hours, a few different movies for the kids, but eventually they get almost done. The kids are both completely asleep on the couch by now, it’s gotten dark out.

“Okay, I think we need to cut this.” Y/n holds up the last piece of trim “You wanna cut this, please?”

She bats her eyelashes looking up at him, leaning in holding out the board. He’s already taught her how to make the cuts on the saw in his garage. She's on her fourth beer, and he’s on his third. He has to admit, renovating was never a good date idea but he’s pleasantly surprised at how well they work together.

“I can take care of it, but only if you promise to be impressed with my skills.”

“When can I see your other skills?” She teases, pulling him closer by the front of his shirt.

“God, you sure know how to make a project hard.” He sighs, taking a deep breath.

“Hard? I haven’t even gotten started w-” Bradley cuts her off with a single finger pressed to her lip.

“My children are in the next room.” He reminds.

“Oh my god.” She cowers into his chest, hiding from embarrassment causing him to shake around her in a laugh. “That’s not funny.”

“I’m gonna go cut this.” He presses an affectionate kiss to her forehead before heading outside to his garage for the saw. By the time he comes back with everything cut to size her cheeks aren’t on fire anymore. He can see that she cleaned up the area for him to frame it out. He hits it with the nail gun quickly and the job is done.

He sits on her large island with her looking at the work they’ve completed.

“Hell of a job.” She reaches out to cheers her beer with his.

“This has to be one of the most unconventional dates I’ve ever been on.” Bradley admits, “That’s gotta be up there.”

“What? You mean you don't typically bring your whole family on first dates while you’re helping them remodel?”

She leans in to bump her shoulder into his teasing him.

“If my mom could see me now, she’d be kicking my ass.” He laughs with a shake of his head. He breaks his stare on the two kids sleeping on the couch to look over to her, “A lady deserves your full attention on a date.”

“I happened to very much like this date.” She bravely reaches out to connect their hands. His warm and enveloping hers as he runs his thumb back and forth over the back of her hand.

“I wanna go home dad.”

Both their heads snap up to see Nick is very much awake now. His glare focused on their intertwined hands, which Y/n slowly drops.

“Yeah, bud. Why don’t you head home and I’ll be right behind you with the princess there.”

Y/n smiles looking at the tiara on Sadie’s head while Nick makes his way out the front door.

“Ahh, I’m sorry about him.” Bradley sighs, scratching the back of his neck as he gets up from the counter, “He’s just-”

“Ten going on twenty.” Y/n smiles repeating his phrase from last week. Patting his shoulder, “Don’t worry about it. I don’t wanna push any boundaries.”

“You aren’t. I can’t even explain how happy you’re making Sadie.” He rests his arms on the counter around where she’s still sitting. It's an intimate position but it’s comfortable, “I think she’s almost as obsessed with you as I am.”

Y/n fights the urge and fails to stop herself from running her fingers through his hair. He sighs in relief and leans in closer.

“I’m kind of obsessed with you too.” She whispers, leaning to brush her lips against his ear.

“You’re something else.” He mutters.

Bradley scoops Sadie up from her spot on the couch while Y/n cleans up the bottles they’ve littered all over her kitchen.

“Have a good night.” He smiles, pausing by the front door.

“You too.” She takes a few steps closer to them to say goodbye and open her front door.

“We do a movie night every Friday night. Do you want to come over tomorrow?” Bradley asks, hoping to continue his trend of seeing her everyday.

“I’ll be there.”

She didn’t let it be known that she was shocked he invited them over for a movie night. Y/n would say she’s gotten to know Bradley pretty well over the last couple of weeks, Sadie almost more so. Nick however has been a different story. Y/n hasn’t crossed the fence over to their house at all so far. Each of their interactions getting stronger than the last.

Bradley gets up early to work a twelve hour shift before coming home at 6 to get the house ready for her to come over and join them. Sadie was thrilled to find out about the special guest for the night.

“Why is she coming?” Nick asks from where he’s glued to the stairs.

“Because I invited her, Nicky.” Bradley makes another lap through the living room picking up miscellaneous toys off the ground. A soft knock on the door has him whipping around to face it.

“Y/n!” Sadie yells and leaps off the couch to open the front door. Bradley walks up to stand behind his daughter and greet Y/n.

“Hi, you guys.” She smiles warmly at the kids. Bradley drinks in the yellow sundress she has on. Her hair is laying down air dried like she recently showered and he’s dreaming of her shampoo already. He opens the door wider so she can come in and he can see that she’s brought something over. “I made cookies too, it feels fitting for a movie night.”

“What kind are they?” Sadie already reaching up to take the container right out of her hands.

“Chocolate chip.”

“Sadie, after dinner.” Bradley warns and she gives him her best pout to give in. She simply shakes her head and she releases her grip. Nick stands up abruptly from the stairs and turns to go up them.

“Nicky, where ya going? We’re about to start something.”

“I’m not watching tonight.” Nick shouts back as he continues going upstairs. Y/n’s face goes pale and she looks at Bradley. She knows that the likely reason is her presence.

“Maybe I should go.” She takes a half step back toward the door.

“No, please don’t go.” Bradley places a hand on her arm holding her there, “Let me just talk with him for a second.”

Bradley takes off up the stairs and Sadie simply pulls Y/n further into the house. They talk about dinner and what movie to watch and by the time they’ve decided something Bradley has convinced him to come back down.

They eat together at the table, Nick is still quiet but Y/n catches him smile a couple times. She doesn’t wanna push it and address him directly, but he does answer a few of her questions about fishing.

Nick ends up picking Transformers for his movie, Y/n learns that that take turns in a rotation each week for who picks the movie. Sadie whines for a minute, but settles into a spot right next to Y/n for the movie. Bradley and Y/n share a grin while they both watch her inch closer and closer before Y/n just extends an arm to let her lean in. By the time the movie is finished its bedtime.

The kids make their way to bed, Bradley reminding them to brush their teeth. Sadie insists that Y/n help her pick out her pajamas. Bradley picks up stray laundry from Nick’s floor, listening to the girls giggle in the other room. Nick is already under the covers, his switch on and pulled up close to his face.

“Is it so bad having her around?” Bradley asks quietly, giving Nick a chance to talk about the woman in the next room. Tonight was the longest stretch she's been with both of the kids, and it wasn't perfect but it was better than any previous interaction.

“I don’t want a new mom.”

Nick doesn’t dare pick up his head to look at his dad.

“No one said anything about her being a new mom. Mom was mom, and that’ll never change. Y/n is kind and she might not be a bad friend to have, buddy.”

Bradley is met with silence.

“Did you know she used to go fishing with her dad?” Nick picks up his head to look at his dad now.

“Really? Why was she asking me how to do stuff then?”

“Hmm, maybe she wanted to connect with you on something. She knows you love fishing. Maybe you can help her get back into it this summer. You’re good at teaching, Nicky.” Bradley reaches out to ruffle his hair up causing them both to laugh.

“Ok Daddy, I’m ready for my bedtime story.”

Y/n is standing in the doorway with his mini me standing next to her. It would seem they settled on the pink striped pajamas. Bradley gives Nick a loud smooch kissing him on the forehead before leaving his room to move to his daughters.

“I’m gonna wait downstairs.”

“Goodnight Y/n!” Sadie reaches out arms to hug her, “Goodnight Sadie.”

She leans her head back towards Nick’s door.

“Goodnight, Nick.” She calls, he responds with a simple ‘night’ but she’ll take anything at this point. Bradley watches her make her way back downstairs and she smiles back at him over her shoulder feeling his eyes on her.

Bradley reads her a story and manages to drag out one long enough for her eyes to be heavy by the end of it. He softly shuts her door and peeks in on Nick before shutting his too. He makes his way downstairs and notices the absence of the person he’s looking for.

He scans the kitchen and living room before he sees the back of her head out on the back patio. He slides open the sliding glass door and she turns to see him, a grin blooming on her face. He joins her on the outdoor couch, kicking up his feet next to hers.

“These past few weeks have been amazing.” Bradley admits, they both lookout towards the water, his arm wrapping around her shoulders to pull her in closer.

“They have been.” She admits, “I have to say, you have been quite the surprise. This is one of the last things I could’ve expected with moving here.”

“You weren’t looking for a relationship?” He asks.

“Not at all.”

His heart stills for a second. They’ve never really had a conversation about what they’re both looking for, but she’s in his life already. In Sadie’s life already too. It's only been a couple weeks, but he's already felt such a strong connection.

“Pleasantly surprised though.” She clarifies.

She pauses to clear her throat and lean back a little to really look at him.

“I need to tell you something.” She admits, her heart is racing with anticipation knowing she can’t go back now. She doesn’t want to have this conversation either, but knows that she needs to with the relationship heading where it is. It’s serious and she can’t let him let her all the way in without knowing why she’s actually here.

“Don’t tell me you just wanna be friends” He jokes.

“No, trust me I could not be just your friend.” She presses a hand to his chest, “I just wanted to talk about how I ended up here.”

“Fresh start, right?” He reaches out to tuck her hair back behind her ear. He’s radiating warmth and it makes her want to lean back in closer and drop the conversation all together.

“Exactly. I needed a fresh start, but I didn’t tell you what it was from.” Y/n takes a breath and Bradley gives her all the time in the world, “I had a relationship with a man named Matt for four years. We were pretty serious, but I ended things when I had to get seventeen stitches and this arm was in a cast for two months.”

Bradley completely stills and his eyes dart between hers while he takes in all the new information.

“Oh, Y/n.” He sighs. She’s got tears in her eyes, but she knows she needs to get through this. Bradley gives her the time to gather her thoughts completely.

“I ended things and got my own apartment in a different burrow. I had to get a temporary restraining order, but he kept waiting outside of my office. He broke into my apartment a month before I moved in next door.”

“I’m so sorry.” Bradley admits. “I was in a total tailspin.” She admits, “So, I took his ass to court and went back and forth for weeks before we reached a settlement. His parents were the ones who arranged a deal and convinced him to leave me alone. In return for dropping the charges I was paid off. It was enough to get away and start a new life.”

He leans over to pull her in close to his chest, her head resting against it. He presses a kiss to the top of her head and lets his hand run down the back of her head a few times before he can really gather his words.

“I’m so proud of you.” His lips murmur into her hair. She can’t help but pick her head up to pull back and look at him.

“Proud?”

“Of course. That’s an impossible situation to be put in and you were able to get yourself away and start a new life. It’s brave to pick up and move away. Change your life.”

“You of all people think I’m brave?” She questions with a grin. “Mr. I literally run into buildings that are on fire and I used to fly planes on impossible missions?”

“I do, which is saying something.” He chuckles, “But seriously. I don’t think you understand how strong you actually are.”

She reaches out so her fingers brush the curls on the back of his neck. She can feel the goosebumps she’s raising as her fingers dust over the back of his neck.

“Y/n.’ He says her name softly, but something tells her it would come out horse if he tried to say it any louder.

Just with that little whisper she tilts her chin up with her eyes locked on his to kiss him. Slow at first, still smiling but tasting the warmth of his lips and the faint salt from the sea clinging to him. She’s sure she tastes like it too, not very sweet.

He loves the salt, it tastes like home. He responds with his hands gripping her waist to pull her onto his lap while deepening the kiss. It’s raw and honest, pulling them into each other and forgetting the whole ocean behind them. The waves and the world fade out for a few minutes while they just focus on each other and what feels good.

They break apart, both needing a full breath of air. His fingers are still holding her dress bunched up at her hips, revealing the white lacy thong she had on underneath.

They don’t speak for a minute still catching their breaths, the sound of waves curling against the beach come back into focus. Her lips are swollen and Bradley is sure he couldn’t be any better off. He reaches out to let his thumb brush against her cheek, she leans into the touch.

“Will you be my girlfriend?”

PART TWO!

YOU GUYS! this has been my baby that i have been sitting on for so long, and i have so many ideas where i want to take it i had to split it up.

please let me know if you want more to this series!!! this is heavily inspired by the Safe Haven by Nicolas sparks

#bradley rooster bradshaw imagine #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw imagine #rooster x reader #top gun maverick #top gun rooster #bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster bradshaw #bradley bradsaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x you #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw #tailspin #top gun x reader #top gun imagine #top gun masterlist

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08luvmailz · 4 days ago

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★ ﾟ๑ I'D DO ANTHING JUST FOR ME TO SEE YOU AGAIN ୧ ⊹ ࣪

ᡴꪫ which yeon sieun sees you visiting him ୧ ⊹ ࣪ first part ／ party on you ୧ ⊹ ࣪ second part ／console me, and then i'll leave without a trace ──⠀ angst to fluff , set on ep7 of s2 , depictions of self harm , bullying , graphic scenes ⸝⸝ ◜◡◝ i got sick ... so i couldn't finish writing yesterday. please do make some requests <3

reader will be called dokja ／ because in reader in korean is dokja

For an entire year, she had tried everything to make herself feel whole again.

For someone, so bright — her smile had become rare, something she stored away in a locked box, fearing it would shatter if she opened it.

The fluorescent lights in the hallway buzzed above her, and the cold linoleum floor echoed each step as if the empty school itself whispered her name. Every corner held eyes that whispered behind tilted heads; every passing shoulder carried a story she used to be part of. She walked through that river of eyes like a stone sinking silently, carrying the weight of whispers in her chest.

She remembered how it felt at first, when the quiet ache had swelled like a balloon inside her ribs. She had tried to stretch it with excuses – busying herself with homework until her hands cramped, munching down snacks until her stomach ached, even jogging until her legs turned to jelly – anything to squeeze out a little satisfaction.

But nothing made the emptiness truly leave. It was like trying to fill a black hole with water; every drop vanished before it could make a ripple. In class, she doodled nothing except the back of her mind on the margins of her notebook: a heart that wouldn’t fill, a mouth that wouldn’t smile.

During lunch, while others crowded around tables trading jokes and laughter, she found a quiet corner.

The cafeteria lights and clatter of trays felt distant, as if she watched it happen in someone else’s dream. She chewed slowly on her rice, its dull flavor on her tongue.

She wondered if they were wondering why she ate so slowly, or thought she must eat quickly to stay strong. In her head, she counted the seconds between bites, hoping to feel any sensation more than the gnawing void inside.

She would glance on the table near her, It was the table they used to sat on. But she quickly disregard the gnawing pain of memories her brain kept locked in.

She heard the rumors.

Kids at her locker thinking she couldn’t hear, imagining her knuckles bruised from something they didn’t understand, lips curling into cruel stories.

She was the shadow stretching long across the hallway’s bright walls – not quite human, not quite monster. Some were scared to approach, afraid she might lash out with hands that had, one time, raised to defend something small and precious.

Each morning felt like climbing a hill she could never reach the top of. Even the sun casting light through her kitchen window failed to warm her insides. Her reflection in the mirror as she put on her uniform was a girl with tired eyes, the kind that quiet mornings and too many secrets give you.

She wondered if the corners of her mouth had forgotten how to go up. On some mornings, she pinched her palm with her nails just to feel a flash of anything real, a proof that she was still there and not just an echo.

She often thought about who she used to be, or who she wanted to be.

Sometimes, in rare moments alone in the afternoon, she would hum a tune she once loved, and for a breath she’d almost believe everything would be okay again.

But when the bell rang and the hurried footsteps as the hallway became empty, reality clung to her again like a cold coat. She straightened her spine, squared her shoulders, tried to make herself small and unnoticeable so she could disappear into the background.

It was easier this way – so people wouldn't come closer anymore.

As the year dragged on, she built a quiet routine of coping.

Some days, after the final bell, she would find a hidden corner of the library and bury her face in a book, leaning into the paper and print so she could hold a whisper of someone else’s story.

Other days, she walked home along side streets, feet crunching on gravel, head down so that the roofs of houses blurred her vision and no one would say her name.

At night, before sleep stole her away, she sometimes imagined a dinner table where just once someone passed her plate without a warning glance. Those dreams faded by dawn, leaving only the morning ache.

She watched the other students as if from behind glass. They passed her in the halls—heads held high, friends jabbering shoulder-to-shoulder. They worried about tests, cram schools, summer vacation or going out.

Sometimes at night, late when everything was dark and the house was empty, she touched the scars she kept hidden on her wrist. They were faint lines, as if she had cut herself just enough to feel. Enough to remember that I’m here.

The ache in her stomach and heart became the same longing, and she ached to feel anything but hollow. Yet morning would come, as it always did, and she would tuck those memories back inside her ribcage and wear her uniform once more.

She was careful now.

Careful to walk in the center of the corridors so no one had reason to crowd her. Careful to keep her voice low if a teacher asked her a question.

She preferred to blend into the pattern of her desk in class or the gray cement wall outside the school, so that anyone might forget she was there at all. She told herself that being invisible was the least she could offer the world.

Sometimes when she passed a reflection in a store window, she stared at the girl who looked back with hungry eyes and wondered if that was her, really, or just another stranger pulling a cart alongside the frozen aisles of life. She envied how warm and bright her classmates appeared in her imagination, as if they wore their warmth and hunger on their tongues without any effort.

She started learning how to ride Suho’s motorcycle a month after everything happened. Not because she had a reason. Just because sitting still made her feel like she’d disappear.

It wasn’t easy. Her hands weren’t made for handlebars or throttle grips, and the engine always roared too loud for her quiet head. But she kept practicing. Around the block, then across the neighborhood, then down the same roads Suho used to ride when he was still—

She doesn’t finish the sentence. She just keeps riding.

Sometimes she visits his grandmother first, carrying grocery bags that dig red marks into her palms. They don’t talk much—just share the silence like old friends do. She helps clean, picks up the mail, waters the plants that Suho forgot to before everything fell apart. And then, like ritual, she visits the hospital.

She doesn’t bring flowers anymore. That stopped after the fifth week. Now it’s just her, a quiet chair, and Suho’s breathing. She talks sometimes, about nothing. About school. About how the vending machine’s been out of her favorite drink for a week straight. About the bike.

She took the job to keep her mind busy. A delivery service. Something that paid just enough and asked for nothing back. Using Suho's helmet that's too big on her because she couldn't used the pink helmet he brought for her, a schedule, and a willingness to keep going even when you’re tired.

She took the job because she wanted to make up for what she didn’t do—what she should’ve done back then. Maybe if she earned enough, it could at least cover Suho’s expenses for a few months. So when he woke up, he wouldn’t have to think about wasting time trying to make money again. He could just rest, catch up with everything he missed.

That was the idea. That was a brilliant plan.

Oh, how wrong she was.

It was hard to juggle everything—school during the day, taekwondo classes after, then deliveries until late. Her body ached more often now. Sleep became something borrowed, not earned. And sometimes, when she stared too long at her schedule, she wondered how Suho managed to do it all.

Then she let out a bitter chuckle.

Right. He didn’t study much.

He tried—she remembered that. Showing up to class with tired eyes, scribbling half-hearted notes, pretending to care when the teacher called on him. But studying was never the plan for him. He wasn’t built for libraries or lecture halls. He was planning to survive. To make a living. To take care of the people he loved, even if that meant running himself to the ground.

Now here she was, retracing his steps. As if mimicking his life could somehow bring him back. As if it could undo what happened.

But the truth was, she wasn’t doing this because it was right.

She was doing it because she didn’t know how else to grieve.

She was doing it to remember that she still lived for him—the only one.

It wasn’t like she suddenly believed in responsibility or wanted to prove something to her parents—they didn’t care either way. They nagged her about it at first, asking why she had to deliver food like some desperate kid. She told them she was trying to live like an adult now.

That was a lie.

What she really meant was: I need to do something that hurts a little. Something that makes me feel like I’m still here.

She picked up the helmet, looked at the old bike, and thought, If I could ride it well enough, maybe it would feel like Suho was still beside me.

At times, when she was in the saddle delivering food, her route veered past Sieun’s old neighborhood before she could stop herself. The engine’s hum would carry her right to the curb beneath that familiar streetlamp where they once sheltered from rain.

She’d cut the engine and sit in silence, remembering how he held the umbrella too high—as if standing close was its own kind of risk. She’d force a small, aching smile, tell herself it was only a shortcut on the map.

Other days, she’d pull up behind a low brick wall, park the bike with a screech, and leap off, ready to startle him. But in her memory, his voice would reach her first: “Too loud,” he’d said, never bothering to turn around.

So she’d shake off the pain, clip her helmet on again, and push forward—deliveries waiting, regret left to catch up on its own.

Most of all, she rode just like Suho used to—late into the evening, weaving between streetlights and memories. Each package she carried was fuel for her guilt, her promise to cover weeks of missed chores and unspoken goodbyes.

She was learning to ride the weight of her grief as surely as she learned to handle the throttle: both made her body ache, but at least it meant she was still moving.

She remembered, when she smiled at the mirror for the first time in a long while.

It wasn’t a triumphant smile—more like a small, crooked thing, half-formed and unsure, but there nonetheless. The bathroom was filled with the sharp scent of drugstore dye, gloves stained with streaks of artificial chestnut. She worked in silence, dragging the brush through her hair, clumsily but with care, as if repainting herself would somehow peel away the weight she carried on her shoulders.

When she finished drying it, the strands fanned out like paper—too soft, too light, the color warmer than she imagined. Under the cheap lighting, it almost looked orange. She stared at her reflection, blinked once, and let out a short, surprised laugh.

She looked like she was wearing a wig. Like a stranger trying on someone else’s softness.

She remembered when the three would glance at her when she questioned them if she would look good in a light brown haired color. The two nodded and Beomseok complimented her with a thought, then Suho—that bitch.

Said, "If you ever dyed your hair. You would look like wearing a wig"

She chuckled to herself that a kick was met on his face after he made a comment.

And yet... something about it made her pause. Not in shame. Not in regret. But in that fleeting, suspended moment where grief and girlhood blur.

It didn’t fix anything. But it made her feel like maybe she could try again.

Even if it was just hair.

Even if it was just for a second.

Then, it started.

The bullying.

The girls started again, their voices high and biting, a chorus of yapping dogs circling, teeth bared but too afraid to bite. Each word they threw at her was a stone, meant to make her crack. But the cracks were inside. The outside? The outside was numb, cold—so cold it almost felt like she wasn't even there. Not until the bathroom, cornered between the walls, did she feel the heat of her own anger rising.

Not at them.

No, not at them.

At herself.

She hated how she'd let it get to this point. How had she become this quiet thing—this thing that let them talk, let them push? If it were the old her, she'd have torn them apart by now. Fists flying, voice roaring. She would’ve been the storm they couldn't handle. She would’ve shown them what it meant to not be afraid.

A year ago, she would have struck first—fists flying before thought. She would have tasted the shock in their eyes as blood bloomed on her knuckles. But that girl was gone. Now she stood still, back pressed to cool porcelain, heart hammering a fierce rhythm against her ribs.

But not now.

Now, silence was all she could afford them. Giving them her attention, her energy—it felt like losing, like handing them the power to keep dragging her back into their pit. So, she waited. Let them bark, let them jeer.

She was waiting for the one to make a move. She could feel it coming. The sharpness of her breath, the way her lip trembled under the weight of what she wanted to do.

The fluorescent light hummed overhead, and the walls felt too close, as if they meant to press her in. She looked at them—low laughs, the scrape of heels on tile. Shadows swept across the stalls, narrowing in on her.

They surrounded her: girls with cigarettes dangling from their lips, eyes bright with cruelty. Their words stung—whispers of psycho, freak, worse. Each insult landed in her chest like a stone.

Her lips were dry, chapped beneath the heavy lipstick, so bright it almost hurt to see. She imagined, for a moment, what it would look like—if that lipstick were smeared with blood. Her blood or theirs, it didn’t matter. The thought of wiping it off with their mocking laughter, of seeing them eat their own arrogance, was a sickening sort of satisfaction.

The laughter, the cigarette smoke curling around their words—it all burned her. She didn’t need to move, didn’t need to react. But the fantasy? The fantasy was enough. They'd never know the rage coiled inside her like a snake, waiting for the right moment to strike.

But that moment never came. And she realized, standing there, that maybe it never would. She was a prisoner of her own calm.

She paused, breath steadying, and Suho’s voice cut through the noise in her head. “If they corner you, don’t let them control the space. Use anything around you. Make them intimidate you.” Not her teacher’s drills—Suho’s words, like a lifeline.

She straightened her spine. Every inch of her stood tall: shoulders back, chin up, eyes locked on the ring leader. The others fell silent, startled by the sudden shift in the air. She moved forward, step by deliberate step, until she was toe-to-toe with the girl who’d cornered her.

Her voice was low, rough from disuse—but clear.

" You done spouting bullshit? "

The hallway seemed to hold its breath. The girl’s smirk faltered as a tremor of hesitation rippled through the circle. And for the first time that day, She felt something bloom behind her ribs—not fear, but a fierce, electric calm. The world had tilted back into place. She owned this moment. And they knew it.

The girl scoffed, a bitter sound curling from her lips like smoke. Her voice trembled, mechanical and unsure, stuttering as if caught between fury and fear. “What did you say?” she asked, trying to hold the edges of control, to wear confidence like armor—though it barely clung to her.

“You just keep talking,” she spat. “Saying things you don’t even understand. You’ve got the ego of a man compensating for something small—so small. Always acting like you're above everyone, but you’re nothing more than a coward in a mask.”

Her anger was wildfire now, unchecked and consuming. She moved fast—too fast—reaching out to strike, to make the moment hers again. But the other girl was faster. Calm. Cold. She caught her wrist mid-air, twisted it hard.

There was a snap—sharp, sickening.

A breath caught in the girl’s throat.

She screamed in pain then came the kick, swift and brutal, sending her stumbling backward, wounded pride trailing behind her like a torn ribbon. She hurled in pain clutching her hand as she lay on the ground.

And then—silence.

She had the space she needed. A clear path to run, to disappear, to let this be over.

But she didn’t move.

Not yet, she isn't done.

They circled her like wolves, four against one, grinning with the kind of confidence that came in packs. Cheap perfume, chewing gum, and bad intentions hung thick in the air.

The first came charging, wild and loud. She sidestepped, smooth as water, and swept a leg out low. The girl hit the ground with a thud, her pride landing harder than her body. As another was baffled but lunged—fists swinging, rage without form. She caught her wrist mid-swing, twisted, and sent an elbow into her ribs. The sound that followed was breathless, raw.

The third tried to out-think her. She went low, hands reaching for ankles, but didn’t see the spin. A heel cracked across her jaw with the grace of violence learned in silence. She folded, crumpled, still.

The last girl hesitated.

She could’ve run. Could’ve walked away with just a bruise to her ego.

“Don’t,” she warned, softly. Like mercy.

But pride struck first, than being humble.

She attacked—and in seconds, she was face-down, her wrist bent behind her back, the ground cold and unforgiving. Her face met with the cold disgusting floor where many student stepped in.

She exhaled.

She looked at them with no compassion, she knelt and plucked a crumpled cigarette pack from one of their jackets. Held it up between two fingers like something dead.

“Pick them up,” she said.

No one answered, nor moved.

She exhaled with a look of annoyance.

She stood over them, still as a statue, the echo of violence humming in her bones. Around her, the bathroom was silent save for their ragged breathing—tile cold beneath scraped palms, smoke clinging to the walls like ghosts.

“PICKED THEM UP!” she shouted, voice cracking through the air like a whip.

It boomed off the tiled walls, reverberating through the stillness. The room swallowed the sound, but it stayed there, vibrating in the bones of those crouched on the floor.

They moved slowly, heads bowed like scolded children, fingers fumbling for the torn paper and crushed filters. One by one, they gathered the pieces.

She didn’t blink. Didn’t move.

"Eat it." she commanded at them, as the other stare at her in fear. Others obeyed too quickly afraid to have more blooming bruises on their faces.

But the one who had confronted her—the first to strike, the first to fall—didn’t look away.

She sat against the tiled wall, cradling her broken wrist with the other hand, eyes burning with fury. It wasn’t fear in her face—it was defiance. Pride refusing to kneel, even in defeat.

Blood at the corner of her lip. Breathing sharp. Hate alive in her throat.

She walked toward her—not rushed, not cruel, just deliberate. Controlled. Her knees bent with a soft thud against the tile as she knelt before the girl. A single cigarette still burned on the floor, its ember a fading eye. She picked it up between her fingers, unflinching as the heat kissed her skin.

“Still holding onto that pride?” she asked, almost gently.

She caught her face in one hand, fingers gripping her cheeks, steady and strong. Thumb pried her mouth open.

“No more talking.” She murmured at her, and smiled at her. Sickingly.

The cigarette went in.

Smoke. Ash. Pained gasped. Burning tongue. Silence.

She watched her chew it—eyes wet, teeth grinding through heat and paper and humiliation. The taste of defiance turned to ash on her tongue.

She held her gaze the whole time at her. Chewing at her own pride.

Then she let go.

Her fingers slipped from the girl's face like a dying breeze. And then, without fury—only finality—she slapped her. A clean, echoing sound that cracked through the heavy stillness like a gunshot in a chapel. No rage in it. Just closure. She rose to her feet, slow and composed, the chaos behind her shrinking as if it had never touched her.

At the door, she paused.

The air in the bathroom was thick—smoke curling like ghosts above the flickering light, blood and ash staining silence. The girls were curled inward, pain folding their bodies like paper. Eyes wide, throats dry. Beaten, but still watching.

She turned to face them one last time.

“Tell a teacher,” she said, voice low but thunderous, coiled with quiet venom. “And it won’t just be my fists or my feet kneeling to your faces.” Her eyes swept over them—each one trembling, pride shattered and stinging beneath the skin.

“I’ll make sure you can’t even look in the mirror without choking on what you see.”

A breath.

“I will kill you.”

No screams. No theatrics. Just that promise—quiet and unshakeable.

Then she stepped through the doorway and disappeared. The door slammed behind her with the force of a verdict. The lock clicked shut, sealing the room like a tomb.

She walked slowly, each step measured, as though the weight of her own actions had yet to fully settle. Her heartbeat still echoed in her chest, a steady drum beneath the skin. The rush, that surge of power, still coursed through her veins like fire, bright and consuming.

But she remained composed.

Her breath, though quick, was steady, like the calm after a storm. The chaos of the bathroom—those faces crumpled in pain, the smell of smoke and defeat—was already fading into the periphery of her mind.

Her fingers, still tingling from the force of the slap, brushed against the cold metal of the doorframe as she passed. Her body knew what it had done, but her mind? Her mind was already someplace else, already turning over the pieces like a puzzle that had just been solved.

She didn't regret it. Not in that moment.

She didn’t need to look back.

She just have to keep moving forward.

Its been a year.

After endless of orders, knocking on doors, she fell asleep face-down on a half-finished worksheet, the highlighter uncapped and bleeding neon yellow into the page.

When she slept, she was impossible to wake—like the world could end outside her window and she’d sleep through the fire. It had become her escape, her only silence. But not tonight.

Her phone rang loud and sharp, slicing through the quiet like panic often does. She stirred, groggy and annoyed, until her eyes caught the caller ID: Hospital.

She blinked.

Hospital

Her heart didn’t stop—it collapsed.

She answered without thinking, her voice breathless, the fear already creeping up her spine. “Hello?”

The voice on the other end was formal, wrapped in professional indifference. “Hello. Is this Dokja-ssi’s phone?”

Her breath hitched. Something about the tone felt wrong. Off. Too careful. “Yes—yes, this is her. I’m Dokja. Why? What’s going on?” she asked, already standing, legs shaky, the panic flooding her veins.

“There’s been a complication,” the voice replied, each word like a crack in her chest. "Patient Anh Suho, is in a critical condition, Unfortunately, Sieun-ssi responded but he didn't came. Are you able to come?" The nurse voice replied.

For a second, time slowed. Then it shattered.

She didn’t respond. The call had ended. Or maybe she had ended it. She couldn’t remember. Her limbs moved on instinct. She didn’t change clothes. She didn’t think. She just ran.

She ran like she did the night everything fell apart.

She ran like apologies could catch up to prayers.

She ran like her heart would stop before she made it.

She ran even if her tears wouldn't stop streaming until her eyes became blurry at the sight.

She called and called Suho’s grandmother, but the line rang endlessly. The silence on the other end pressed against her ears like grief.

When she burst through the hospital entrance, breathless and wild-eyed, she was met with chaos—blurred voices, sharp lights, the dull smell of antiseptic, and somewhere behind it all, fear.

A nurse met her halfway, calm hands reaching to steady her. "Dokja-ssi? "she asked gently, guiding her to a seat. She nodded, unable to speak.

Then everything came too fast— loud shouts, jarring footsteps.

Too real.

She couldn’t move. Couldn’t blink. She just stood there, rooted to the floor as the world blurred into chaos.

Through the small square of glass, her eyes locked onto the scene like it might disappear if she looked away. Suho’s body, too still on the stretcher, wires snaking across his chest. The defibrillator pads were already in place. The sound of machines echoed even through the door, shrill and unrelenting.

She saw the moment his heart flatlined.

The jagged spike of the monitor became a flat line.

"He's in cardiac arrest!"

Doctors shouted orders she couldn’t understand, but her body translated their panic anyway. Hands moved fast, efficient and desperate, as if time could be bribed to give them more.

His chest lifted—once, twice—under compressions, and she could barely hear the nurse behind her asking her to sit down.

But she didn’t. She couldn’t.

All she could do was stare at the blinking lights, watching as they flickered like dying stars in a collapsing sky. He had always burned so bright. And now—Now he was fighting to stay lit.

Tears clung to her lashes, but she didn’t cry. Not yet. Not when he was still in there. Not when he might still wake up.

She placed a hand against the glass.

“Suho,” she whispered like it was a promise. Like her voice could reach him where machines couldn’t.

She didn’t know how long she stood there. Could’ve been minutes. Could’ve been forever. Time twisted itself into knots.

All she knew was that she had never felt so helpless.

Inside, the doctor called for another round. The paddles pressed to his chest.

Clear.

His body jolted.

She flinched.

Her knees gave out before she even realized she was falling. The cold linoleum kissed her skin, and her fingers clawed at the base of the emergency room door—desperate, aching, as if she could tear through it and pull him back with her own bare hands.

“Suho,” she choked out, once, then again—until his name was no longer a name, but a prayer dragged through broken sobs.

Her body folded in on itself. Shoulders shaking, forehead pressed against the wood like it could listen. Like maybe if she stayed close enough, he’d hear her crying and come back just to scold her for it.

She wailed quietly at first, then louder, all the grief she had buried beneath discipline and duty unspooling in the rawest of ways. She gripped the doorframe like it was the only thing keeping her tethered to the earth, nails digging in until her knuckles turned white.

Her voice cracked, mouth trembling as she whispered, “Please… please don’t go.”

No one answered.

Only the muffled chaos of the emergency room beyond the door. The soft buzz of machines still fighting to keep him here. The frantic shuffle of shoes and fabric and sterile urgency.

She quickly kneeled, blood in her throat and prayers in her lungs. Asking the universe, begging God, “If you're here, save him.”

Not long after, the noise settled. The beeping of machines, the shouting of doctors, the chaos in the emergency room all blurred into a dull hum as Suho’s heart slowly found its rhythm again.

She sat there, knees still trembling beneath her, as a nurse gently approached her. She had no words to offer, no comfort to give, but the way she placed a steady hand on her shoulder said enough. It was an anchor in a sea of uncertainty.

“Suho’s stable now,” the nurse said softly, but her voice was still kind, despite the exhaustion that clung to her like a second skin. “He’s in critical care, but the immediate danger has passed.”

“His vitals are steady. We’ll monitor him, of course.” The nurse’s tone was reassuring, but she couldn’t shake the cold dread that clung to her, the fear that, at any moment, everything could tip back into the unknown.

The doctor stepped in next, his presence steady but brisk, offering the facts as they were. “His heart stopped for a few moments, but we were able to stabilize him,” he said, glancing at the monitor and then at her. “We’ll continue monitoring him closely for the next few hours. He’s strong. He’ll pull through. But it’s too early to say much more.”

She nodded, the weight of his words settling into her bones. But her mind couldn’t quite rest on the relief; it was tangled in the knots of everything she had felt before this moment, the panic, the helplessness, the feeling of losing him before she even had the chance to understand what he truly meant to her.

She managed to speak, though her voice felt foreign. “Can I see him?”

The nurse and doctor exchanged glances. The doctor nodded. “Just for a moment. He’s sedated, but we’ll allow a brief visit.”

As they led her to Suho’s room, She felt her legs heavy, like she was walking through water. When she reached the threshold of his room, she stopped, standing there in the doorway for a moment, watching him. The sight of him—his face pale but familiar, the steady rise and fall of his chest beneath the monitors—was almost too much to bear.

But she stepped inside. Slowly. Quietly. As if afraid that if she moved too fast, she would wake from this nightmare too soon.

There, in the quiet hum of the hospital room, she sat by his bed, her hand carefully brushing through his hair.

She didn’t speak.

She didn’t need to.

All she could do was stay. And wait.

"You scared the shit out of me, you bastard." Her voice cracked, soft but heavy with the weight of everything she had felt in the past few hours.

A bitter chuckle escaped her lips, her fingers trembling as they lingered on his hand, still warm, still steady. The tears she had held back now fell freely, pooling on the edges of her lashes before they slipped down her cheeks.

"I thought... I thought I was going to lose you," she whispered, the words raw and honest, the fear she hadn’t known how to voice finally spilling from her. "I didn't know what I'd do without you."

"You always make me worry, don’t you?" she said, her voice quieter now, almost a fond reproach, as if she was talking to herself more than to him.

The sterile room felt colder now, quieter, but her presence by his side warmed the space. She could almost pretend that things were normal, that this moment was just one of those fleeting, quiet moments they used to have—when everything felt right, when there was nothing but them, no chaos, no questions. Just the quiet hum of being together.

"If you scared me like that again, i will kill you." she murmured, her hand brushing over the cool fabric of his hospital gown. "Please, wake up."

But silence was the loud answer.

Soon, she would hear his voice.

Again.

Soon she left the room, as the doctor checked his vitals.

She stepped away from the cold, sterile walls of the waiting room, seeking solace in a quiet corner where she could break without being seen. Her breath caught in her throat as her body trembled, each sob a sharp, painful release of everything she had held back.

She pressed her hand against her mouth, trying to muffle the sound, but it was useless. The grief, the fear, the desperate prayer to some higher power—she couldn’t contain it any longer.

"Please," she whispered, her voice breaking. "Please, don’t take him too."

She was lost in her own panic, until her gaze lifted, and through blurred eyes, she saw them.

Three figures in the distance, standing near the entrance of the waiting area.

Their presence felt like a strange disruption, their calm demeanor a stark contrast to the storm inside her. She quickly wiped her tears away, forcing herself to steady her breathing, her chest still tight, aching from the earlier rush of emotion.

She couldn’t show them the cracks. Not now. Not here.

Her eyes darted to the sound of heels clicking against the floor, the sound sharp and confident as it drew closer. Without even looking, she knew.

She recognized the familiar cadence, the polished, poised steps of someone who had a presence that filled the room. And when she heard the words, soft yet piercing, she couldn’t stop herself from glancing over.

“Sieun,” his mother’s voice echoed, a quiet, clipped tone that made her blood run cold.

Her heart stopped for a moment, suspended in time. She didn’t move. She didn’t dare.

She had to stay still. To breathe. To keep herself from trembling at the sight of his mother, at the thought of Sieun.

As the woman turned, disappearing into the hallway, the rest of them—those familiar figures from long ago—remained.

She heard those words again, echoing in her chest like a cracked bell, "Don't worry. He's stable now."

But “stable” felt hollow—an empty promise carved from glass. It pressed against her ribs until she could hardly breathe. Stable meant he had already teetered on the edge.

Stable meant the world had nearly slipped him away once, and could do so again.

In that moment, the corridor’s light blurred into silver dust, and every step she took felt haunted by the question: What had broken him, and could she piece him back together?

Her legs moved before her mind could catch up, standing up as the need to know, to understand, burned through her chest. She walked toward them, each step hesitant but determined, her feet carrying her forward as if they knew the path she needed to take.

When she reached them, her voice was steady, but the question she asked felt like it came from someone else, someone too broken to stop herself.

“What happened to Sieun?” she asked, her voice barely a whisper, though she hoped it didn’t sound as fragile as it felt.

Her eyes caught theirs, scanning each face, searching for a truth that had eluded her. And for a split second, in that fleeting moment, she realized how deeply she had missed them, how much she had needed to see them. But all she could focus on was Sieun. Where was he? Was he okay?

They met her gaze, each face shifting with something—pity? Worry? It was hard to tell, but she needed to know. She had to know.

The first met her gaze for an instant—his head shaved close, eyes hard—before he looked away. The second hunched forward, hood drawn tight, fingers drumming an anxious rhythm against his knee. The third leaned back, arms crossed, but his glance flickered to her like a startled bird.

“Who are you?” the one wearing a blazer asked, voice cautious.

Her throat constricted. “I—” She forced the words out. “I’m just asking if he’s okay.”

“Why do you care?” the first boy challenged, sharp eyes narrowing.

“I was his friend,” she whispered, voice thin as spun glass. “Please… just tell me.” They exchanged hesitant looks, the silence stretching between them like a wound.

“We weren’t there,” the boy with folded arms finally said, each word weighed by uncertainty. “Someone brought him in. He… hasn’t woken up yet.” She bowed her head, letting the news settle like snow in her chest.

The boy with a fur jacket on as his voice softened, almost a murmur: “You close to him, then?” She blinked at him, She didn’t know how to answer him. Are you close to him? — the question wasn’t cruel, just curious. Simple. But it rattled something. She would've said we are, once. It would’ve been easy. Natural.

But they weren’t.

Not anymore.

So the silence stretched for a second too long, and she could feel it waiting — the question, the boys, even the fluorescent lights buzzing above. “I was,” she said. Quiet. Honest. Maybe too honest. She didn’t know what else to say. Nothing she could say would explain it anyway.

The words hung in the air behind her as she walked, not really expecting them to understand.

The three boys watched her go, but none of them tried to stop her. It wasn’t like they could.

As she neared the hallway where Sieun’s mother had disappeared, the heels clicking sharply on the tile floor were unmistakable. The woman, tall and dressed in black, walked with a certain kind of authority, but there was something fragile about the way she moved — like even the weight of her own footsteps might be too much for her.

She didn't hesitate. Her legs carried her forward, and before she could second-guess herself, she was standing at the door where his mother had entered.

By the time she reached the door — the same one his mother had disappeared through — her hand was already on the frame, fingers trembling.

She leaned in.

The glass was small, but clear enough to steal her breath.

There he was.

Sieun. Still. Pale. Wires crawling across his skin like questions with no answers. Machines blinking quietly beside him, a soundless rhythm of worry. Her stomach turned. Something inside her dropped.

Her breathe hitched.

Him too?

And she didn't even know.

Tears gathered at the corners of her eyes before she could blink them back, stinging sharp and sudden. Not just because of the sight. But because it felt like some invisible thread had snapped — and she hadn't even realized it was still there until now.

It hit her like a quiet betrayal.

She used to pride herself on noticing things—on knowing when people were hurting even if they didn’t say it out loud. But this?

She hadn’t known a damn thing.

She didn't know what happened.

There was no warning. No signs. Just a body behind glass. A boy who once walked beside her now laid out like a question without an answer.

Her chest ached. Not sharp, just hollow.

She wondered if he tried to reach out. If he hesitated before deleting her number. If he thought about her at all.

Would it have changed anything?

Would she have come running sooner, if she knew?

She didn’t even know what floor he was on until she heard his name from someone else's mouth. And now here she was, heart pressed against glass, breathing in grief like it was her fault she didn’t notice him slipping.

She didn’t notice the door open. Not until a voice sliced through the haze, sharp and clean like a blade pressed too close to skin. “What is it?” The woman’s tone was brisk—businesslike, wrapped in steel—but not cruel. Not yet.

And for a moment, she couldn’t answer. Couldn’t speak. She stood there, breath caught halfway, spine tense like she’d been caught somewhere she shouldn’t be.

What was she supposed to say? That she was standing outside the room of a boy she hadn’t seen in months, one who used to walk beside her like a shadow, now lying still behind glass like a stranger? That she didn’t know why she was here, only that her feet wouldn’t let her go anywhere else?

But none of that would sound right. None of that would explain the tears she hadn’t wiped away, the guilt tightening her chest, the ache of realizing she was too late.

“…What happened to Sieun?” She asked the question again, but it felt heavier this time. More desperate.

The woman paused.

Sieun’s mother glanced at her, with a mask of recognition.

“You...” Sieun’s mother said softly, her voice filled with the weight of years of distance. “You’re the girl who visited us... a year ago?”

She nodded, her throat too tight to speak.

“I was,” she managed to say, her voice barely above a whisper.

The woman paused, studying her carefully. There was something in her gaze—concern, perhaps, or understanding—something that made her feel exposed in a way she hadn’t expected.

Sieun’s mother’s eyes softened for just a moment, her expression unreadable, but there was a kindness in the way she spoke next.

But at her first question, her jaw tensed — a small, silent betrayal of everything she refused to let slip. There was a flicker in her eyes, something restrained and quiet, like a dam holding back too much water. She gave a slow shake of her head — not dismissive, not angry — just tired. The kind of tired that lived in the bones, not the muscles. The kind that grief makes permanent.

For a moment, the hallway felt too still. The soft mechanical murmurs behind the walls seemed distant, unimportant. Time hung suspended in fluorescent light and stale air.

Then, finally, Sieun’s mother exhaled — low, controlled, as if she could force herself to stay composed with nothing but breath.

“He’s in a bad state,” she said, and the words landed with the weight of something half-buried. “Unconscious when they brought him in. He got hit by a bus, thankfully it wasn't that critical. But the doctors are trying. They’re doing what they can.”

The ache hit without warning — a sharp, invisible thing that cracked down her spine like lightning. She didn’t know when she started shaking. Only that it hurt to stand still, and it hurt more to listen.

She wanted to ask more. A thousand questions pressed behind her teeth, begging for air. But none of them mattered. Not right now.

“Do you... want to see him?” Sieun’s mother asked, her voice softer now, like she understood what it meant to be left behind by someone still breathing.

“Yes.” Her voice came out too fast, too fragile. “Please. I— I need to.” The older woman gave a quiet nod and turned, her steps slow and heavy. And the girl followed, unsure if her knees were steady enough to carry her through the weight of the moment.

Behind every step was a memory. Behind every breath was something she wished she’d said.

But ahead… ahead was the hope of seeing him again — and maybe, just maybe, a chance to fix what time and silence had fractured.

“Are... are you a friend of Sieun’s?” Sieun’s mother asked, her voice faltering slightly. “I always believed something must have happened... between the two of you.”

The words hit her like a punch to the gut, a sharp reminder of the distance she had put between them, a distance that had been as much her doing as anyone else’s.

“I used to be his friend,” she replied, her voice faltering, unsure of what else to say. Sieun’s mother’s eyes softened for just a moment, her expression unreadable, but there was a kindness in the way she spoke next.

She steps slowly toward Sieun's room, her heart racing in her chest, and each step feels heavier than the last. The guilt still lingers, but she pushes it aside, forcing herself to focus on the present. She can’t afford to think about the past anymore. Not now.

The reality of what’s happening hits her—she’s finally facing Sieun after all this time, after everything that’s happened. She doesn’t know what she’s going to say, or if she’ll even be able to say anything at all.

But she knows one thing for certain: she has to be there for him, even if it’s just in silence.

The sterile smell of the hospital room fills her senses. The sound of beeping machines and the soft rustle of sheets are the only noises that break the stillness of the room. She looks at him, lying unconscious in the hospital bed. His face is peaceful, but his body is marked with signs of his struggle.

It’s hard to look at him—he looks so fragile, so far from the boy she used to know. She’s reminded of all the things left unsaid, of the friendship that was lost, and the connection that never truly faded, even when she thought it had.

His mother gave a small nod, saying nothing, only shifting slightly to offer the empty seat beside her.

She sat down, the chair cold beneath her, the air colder still.

Silence erupted in the room—not hollow, but thick. The kind that fills your lungs until it’s hard to breathe. Machines hummed gently, steady and indifferent. But everything else felt still, like the world had paused just outside these walls.

She didn’t look at him right away. She couldn’t. Her hands rested in her lap, fingers laced tightly together, as if they were the only thing keeping her grounded.

She heard sieun's mother sighed softly, a mix of relief and lingering worry in her voice. “The doctor says it wasn’t critical, but his nervous system was affected. He’s been having trouble...” Her voice falters a bit.

“...trouble sleeping.” Her voice barely above a whisper, heart racing at the realization. As she finished Sieun's mother sentence. Her eyes widen in surprise, as if a flash of recognition crosses her mind. “Did Sieun tell you this?”

She shakes her head, a bitter laugh escaping her lips, though it’s drowned in the ache of regret. “No, I haven’t talked to him... not since he switched schools.” She glanced at her lap, fiddling at the edge of her t-shirt, afraid to look at her.

A pause, her gaze softening, yet heavy with understanding. Her voice becomes quiet but firm, almost as if she’s been waiting to say this. “The moment I saw you standing at our door... I knew you had a connection with him. I don’t know what happened between you two, but I could tell you meant a lot to him.”

She is struck by her words, her heart sinking in guilt. She bows her head into her lap, the tears threatening to spill over. She couldn’t hold it back anymore, not with all the emotions swirling inside her, not after everything she wished she’d done differently.

Her voice lowers with empathy, a soft sadness in her words, as she takes a cautious step closer. “Sieun’s always been reserved... He’s never been good at opening up, especially when it matters the most. That’s how he is... always locking everything inside.” She paused as she glanced at the girl's appearance.

She trembled, shoulders tight, voice barely holding beneath the weight that had sat on her chest for far too long.

“I... I let my pride get in the way,” she whispered, each word splintering against the silence. “I didn’t talk to him when I had the chance... I should’ve, but I didn’t. I thought he’d be fine—like he always is. I told myself he’d figure it out. But now—” her breath hitched, “now he’s in here, like this. And I wasn’t there. I wasn’t even close.”

Her hands lifted, covering her face as the tears finally broke through, warm and merciless.

She hated herself for waiting. For hesitating. For thinking there would always be more time.

The silence they once shared now felt like punishment. A distance she could’ve closed, but didn’t. And now the air between them was filled with wires and machines and too many what-ifs.

If only she’d said something. If only she hadn’t let fear speak louder than her heart.

Now, it might be too late to say any of it at all.

Her voice was calm—steady in a way that only someone who had learned how to carry pain without letting it break them could manage. It reached her like a soft touch, like the kind of comfort that doesn’t need to be loud to be heard.

“It’s not your fault,” she said, not accusing, not dismissive—just honest. A breath left her lips, weary but full of knowing. “You can’t predict everything. Especially with someone like Sieun.”

She paused, as if weighing her next words with care.

“Sometimes... people need to fall a little. Walk into the dark by themselves before they can find their way back. That’s not on you. You can’t carry that alone.”

The words lingered in the quiet, gentle but undeniable. A truth that she hadn’t let herself believe. She had been so sure it was her failure, her silence, her pride that led to this—but maybe... it wasn’t all hers to hold.

Then, softer now, almost like an offering:

“If you were once his friend... maybe you still are. Maybe that hasn’t changed. It’s not too late. He’s been through more than we know, but maybe—just maybe—seeing you now will remind him... that he’s not alone. That someone still cares.”

And in that moment, the she felt something shift—not the ache, not the guilt, but the helplessness. It didn’t fade completely. But it loosened just enough to let hope slip in.

She feels a sudden rush of uncertainty—an ache that rises to her throat and threatens to pull her under. Should she stay? Should she leave? What right did she have to be here, after everything?

Her pride claws at her, whispering that it’s too late. That she should walk away quietly, like she always did. But something deeper—something older and softer—fights back. The part of her that still remembers his tired eyes, his rare half-smiles, the way he tried even when no one else saw it.

Regret crashes against her chest like a wave, but it’s no longer paralyzing. It’s a reminder. Of time wasted. Of words left unsaid. Of the cost of silence.

She glances at Sieun’s mother, who doesn’t speak—just waits with that patient, knowing gaze. Her breath stutters, but her feet don’t move. Something has shifted. The guilt is still there, heavy and sharp, but now it’s tethered to something else—resolve.

She can’t go back. She can’t undo the past.

But maybe... she can be here now.

Maybe this is the moment that matters.

For a moment, the room is silent again. The machines continue to beep steadily, and the she wonders if Sieun can hear her. Wondering if maybe, deep down, he knows that she’s here, that she’s trying. Her eyes start to blur with tears, but she blinks them away.

She stands by his bed, her hands shaking slightly as she places them on the edge of the bed, as she closed her eyes and whispered.

"I'm sorry, Sieun-ah"

The next day felt like a blur.

She quietly steps into the sterile hospital room where Suho still lies, unmoving. She finds solace in the mundane, almost as if speaking about ordinary things could bridge the chasm of everything that had happened recently.

She talks to him, her words flowing easily, the way they used to when everything was simple. She tells him about her day—how the schoolwork felt heavier than usual, how his grandmother seemed well despite the worries she had about him. And she mentions Sieun too, his mother, how strange it felt to walk that line between regret and the need to reconnect.

“I saw his mom yesterday,” she continues, her voice softer now. “She said he’s not critical... but his nervous system’s been hit harder than I expected. He’s having trouble... sleeping. I didn’t know, Suho... I thought I was the one to blame for everything.”

She doesn’t expect an answer, but the words feel like they needed to be said.

She pauses, blinking away a few tears, but laughs softly to herself as she recalls the comforting words of Sieun’s mother. “She said I wasn’t the cause of it... that people sometimes have to go through things alone before they come back. I guess... I didn’t think it would be like this.”

The quiet hum of the machines fills the silence as she sighs, her shoulders slumping as though the weight of it all is settling in. She leans back, taking a long breath, her exhaustion creeping in after days of emotional strain.

Her eyes flutter closed, and before she knows it, the chair becomes a quiet refuge, the steady beeping from Suho’s side becoming the lullaby she never thought she’d need.

Her hand, instinctively, rests on Suho’s, and in the quiet of the night, she falls asleep. It’s not the restful sleep of peace, but the kind that brings temporary relief—a brief escape from the chaos of everything around her.

And even if it’s just for a moment, she finds some comfort in the familiarity of the space, the stillness, and the softness of hope that maybe, just maybe, things will begin to heal.

She stirred awake slowly, but didn’t move. The heaviness in her limbs wasn’t from sleep—it was from everything else. Her head remained rested against the hospital bed, her hand still loosely curled near Suho’s.

The room was dim, still caught between the fading night and the gentle glow of morning.

The door creaked open quietly. She heard it but didn’t open her eyes. Part of her wanted to turn, to see—but she stayed still. Maybe it was fear. Maybe it was exhaustion. Maybe it was both.

Then, his voice.

“Suho… I’m sorry I’m late.”

Her breath caught in her throat. That voice, distant yet achingly familiar, dragged her right back to every moment she spent waiting—for answers, for closure, for him.

She felt like she couldn’t breathe. Her heart thudded painfully in her chest, her fingers twitching slightly.

And then, the second wound.

“I’m sorry, Dokja-ah.”

It was said softer, like a ghost brushing past her.

She heard the shuffling of shoes, the sound of someone about to leave. Her pride could’ve let him walk. Her anger, too. But grief, time, and the ache of everything unspoken pushed her forward.

She sat up slowly, eyes still fixed ahead, and her voice—tired but sharp—cut through the sterile room, as the machine beeping echoed.

“Took you a year to say that?”

The footsteps paused. Silence stretched—long enough for her heart to pound in her ears.

He froze.

The sound of her voice—raspy, fragile, but laced with something unmistakably raw—stopped him in his tracks. He faced her, still seating on the chair faced forward. She didn’t look at him.

Not yet.

Her eyes stayed on Suho, like she was still guarding something, or maybe just trying to keep herself from unraveling.

A long silence passed before she finally turned her head, just slightly. Enough to see the outline of him in the soft light.

Her gaze didn’t soften, but it didn’t harden either. It just held.

“I waited,” she said, barely above a whisper. “Not for an apology. Just… something. Anything.”

Her hand brushed lightly against Suho’s, grounding her. She didn’t want to cry. Not again. Not in front of him.

“But you disappeared,” she continued. “Like none of it mattered. Like we didn’t matter.” Her voice wavered, but her words stayed steady. “You don’t get to walk in and say sorry like that’s enough.”

She wasn’t yelling.

She didn’t need to.

Her silence hurts the both of them.

She looked at him then, fully—and for a moment, he looked like the boy she used to know. And someone else entirely.

Still, her next words weren’t bitter. Just… tired.

“I don’t know what you want from me, Sieun.”

And beneath it all, she meant it.

Do you even know what you left behind?

He stood there, caught in the doorway like someone who didn’t belong in the scene he'd wandered into. His hands twitched at his sides, empty. Always empty when it came to her. And yet, somehow, this felt heavier than any fight he’d ever taken.

Her words didn’t cut—they lingered.

Hung in the space between them like mist over a lake he was too afraid to step into.

He wanted to speak.

He wanted to explain.

What could he say that wouldn’t sound like an excuse?

So he just looked at her.

The way her shoulders curved inward now. The way her voice cracked like a fault line trying to stay closed. The way she kept glancing at Suho—as if he were the bridge between them. As if he was the only one allowed to still believe in them both.

He swallowed the guilt, thick and sharp. “I didn’t know how to come back,” he said, barely above a whisper. “And when I finally did… I wasn’t sure I deserved to.”

She didn’t respond—not right away.

But her looked says it all, "You didn't even try?"

So he took a step closer.

“I didn’t stop caring,” he murmured. “I just… didn’t know how to carry it without breaking.”

"You think I didn’t notice, but I did," she said, her voice low, not shaking, not angry—just tired. The kind of tired that sits deep in your bones, where no sleep can reach.

She let out a breath, almost a laugh, but it was hollow.

"I just didn’t want to believe it. So I made excuses. I told myself you were busy, or overwhelmed, or just... thinking things through. I waited. I gave you space. And you took it—so much space there was nothing left of you. No message. No call. Not even a goodbye. Just... absence. You left, and I stayed behind trying to stitch something back together that I didn’t even break." Her hands were still clenched at her sides, but her shoulders had slumped slightly, the weight of it all pulling her down again.

"Do you know what that feels like?" she asked, not looking at him now. "To lose everyone, one by one, and then have you—you—just disappear like you were never part of any of it? Suho ended up in a hospital bed. Beomseok vanished like smoke. Yeong-i stopped answering. And then there was just me. Alone. And you were supposed to be the one who stayed." She turned her head toward him, finally meeting his eyes again.

"I waited for you. I waited so long, and it got quiet. So quiet that it hurt. I’d stare at my phone for hours. I'd start typing something to you and delete it before I sent it. I’d run out of reasons to pretend like it was okay, like you were coming back. But I still hoped. Isn’t that sad? I still hoped." Her voice wavered now, just a little. But she didn’t let it fall apart.

"I kept asking myself, what did I do wrong? Was it something I said? Something I didn’t say? Should I have asked more questions, held on tighter, yelled, cried, anything? I was folding myself into pieces trying to find the version of me you wouldn’t walk away from." Her breath caught, but she blinked it back.

She didn’t cry.

She didn't want to anymore.

"And now you're here, and you look sorry, but sorry isn’t a time machine. Sorry doesn’t put things back where they were. Sorry doesn’t tell me why you thought I couldn’t handle the truth when I was already surviving the wreckage you left behind." She took a step back.

"You left. You made that choice. And I lived with the silence. Don’t come back now and act like you were the one hurting."

She stood now, walking past the bed until she was closer to him—arms still at her side, fists clenched.

She shook her head, a bitter laugh slipping past her lips before she could stop it. It sounded smaller than she expected. Tired, too.

“I waited,” she said, the words sitting heavy in her throat. “Every day, I waited for you to come back. And when you didn’t… I started to hate you. But worse than that—I hated myself.”

Her voice thinned, the way it does when something old and buried rises too fast, too sharp. Like the weight of it had finally lodged in her chest and was pressing, hard.

“Because I kept thinking—if I’d just opened my mouth. If I hadn’t let my pride win. If I’d said anything instead of staying silent... maybe we wouldn’t be here. Standing like strangers, pretending we used to be something more.”

Sieun looked pale, like the guilt in his chest had found its way to his face. He looked like he wanted to reach for her, but didn’t. Couldn’t.

“I’m sorry,” he said. Softer now. Like he meant it, but didn’t believe it was enough.

She looked at him, hollow-eyed.

“I don’t need your sorry,” she said. “I needed you.”

The silence that followed didn’t feel empty. It felt deafening—like the aftermath of a scream. Like the room itself was holding its breath.

She turned away and wiped her eyes with the sleeve of her jacket, pretending the motion was casual. It wasn’t.

“If you’re going to leave again,” she said quietly, “just go now.”

“I’m not—” he stated.

“Don’t promise me things,” she snapped, too fast. “You’re not good at keeping them.”

That stopped him. His gaze dropped for a second, shame flickering across his face. But when he looked up again, something had changed. His eyes weren’t defensive or desperate. Just steady. Heavy with everything he hadn’t said until now.

“I know,” he said. “I know you did. You waited.”

He stepped away from the door, not closer to her—but toward the weight between them. Like he was choosing, finally, not to run.

“You think I didn’t want to come back?” he said, his voice quiet. “I did. Every day I told myself—just one message. Just one call. But then I’d remember the way you looked at me the last time. Like I’d already broken something important.”

She opened her mouth—maybe to argue, maybe to agree—but he kept going.

“I couldn’t face Suho. Or you. Or who I used to be. Because after everything fell apart, I thought it was my fault. I thought I ruined everything. And maybe I did.”

There was no anger in his voice. Just weariness.

“I told myself staying away was cleaner. That I wouldn’t hurt you more by showing up broken. But the truth is... I was just scared. Scared of being the one who couldn’t fix what he shattered.”

She didn’t speak. She just stared, hands clenched at her sides, like letting them relax might make all of this too real.

“I thought forgetting would be easier if I stayed gone. But I didn’t forget,” he said. “I just kept losing parts of myself, until there was nothing left that felt like enough.”

He didn’t raise his voice. He didn’t need to. His words came steady, quiet—but sharp enough to cut.

“I couldn’t face it. I told myself I was protecting you, giving you space, whatever lie made it easier to breathe. But the truth is—I was a coward. Not the dramatic kind, not the ones who run screaming. The quiet kind. The kind that slips out the back door and convinces themselves it’s mercy.”

He looked at her then, really looked—like maybe it had taken this long to let himself.

“I thought if I stayed away long enough, you’d stop needing me. That you’d forget whatever version of me you used to count on. That you’d move on, and I could pretend I didn’t break anything.”

She didn’t say a word. Her jaw was tight. Her eyes were red. But she listened.

“I saw Suho in that bed,” he went on, softer now. “I saw you next to him. And I realized how much I missed. How much I left you to carry. Alone. You always carried everything so quietly—I think I convinced myself you’d be okay without me. But you weren’t. And I wasn’t okay without you either.”

He took a step forward, not asking permission. Just letting her see that maybe—for once—he wasn’t hiding behind silence.

“I’m not going to make promises. I don’t think I have the right to anymore. But I will say this: I never stopped thinking about you. And I was wrong. You didn’t deserve that kind of silence. You didn’t deserve to feel like you were the one left behind.”

“I’m not here to undo it,” he said, voice low, steady. “I know I can’t. I know showing up now doesn’t erase anything.”

His gaze lingered on her—the shine in her eyes that wasn’t light, but tears; the shadows beneath them carved by sleepless nights; the way her hair had grown longer, falling like silence across her shoulders.

She looked heartbreakingly beautiful. Not in the way the world defines it, but in the way sorrow shapes someone who kept going anyway.

And it killed him—

That he was the reason her eyes were wet.

That her sadness wore his name.

She stood there, shoulders tight, something trembling at the edges of her expression. She wanted to scream. Or cry. Or fall into his chest and tell him to hold her like nothing ever broke. But all she could say was, “Then don’t leave again.”

He looked at her, really looked—no flinching, no turning away.

“I won’t,” he said. “Not if you want me to stay.”

The moment his words settled between them, she didn’t think—she moved.

Two steps. Three.

She crashed into him.

Her arms wrapped around his shoulders with a desperation that trembled. He froze at first, caught in the sheer force of her pain, then slowly—gently—his arms came up, holding her like she might disappear again if he let go.

Her voice broke between sobs against his shoulder. “I hate you… for disappearing from me.” Her fists curled into his jacket like she wanted to push him away and pull him closer at the same time.

“I hate that you left without a word. I hate that I waited. That I made excuses. That I let you take everything with you.” Sieun didn’t flinch. He just held her tighter, his chin resting lightly against the top of her head, grounding her in the way she didn’t know she still craved.

"I know" he whispered into her ear, as his hands rested carefully on her waist, "I hate myself too."

Her crying wasn’t loud—but it hurt. It was the kind of crying that sounded like years of swallowed grief cracking open in the arms of someone who once knew her heart.

And in that hospital room, with the beep of Suho’s monitors humming steady in the background, it was the most honest they’d ever been.

No more pride.

No more what ifs.

No more sleepless nights.

No more wondering.

No more pretending.

Just them.

The two of them.

And maybe Suho too.

Just them—tired, broken, but finally, finally not alone.

The sobs had quieted into soft sniffles. She didn’t let go at first—but Sieun gently pulled back, just enough to meet her eyes. His voice still low from everything that had been said. "I have to go."

She didn’t flinch. She just blinked, slow and steady, like she was trying to brace herself for something she already knew. “They’re waiting for you, aren't they.” she said to him.

That made him pause. His brow pulled in, confused. “Have you met them?” She nodded once, wiping gently under her eye with the edge of her thumb. Her voice softened, raw at the edges. “They remind me of Suho, Yeong-I and...Beomseok before.” She whispered like a broken tale.

There it was—the way his shoulders dipped, almost imperceptibly. Something in him shifted. A ghost passed between them. And for the briefest second, something rare flickered across his face: a smile. Small, hesitant. It didn’t quite reach his eyes, but it curled faintly at the corners, like it was trying.

Like it still hurt.

“You want to meet them?”

The question sat between them like glass. Fragile. Waiting.

She looked down, flexed her fingers once, then met his eyes again.

“Do you want me to?”

The air shifted—just slightly. It was still thick with history, but the weight of it wasn’t unbearable anymore. Something in it had softened. And for once, there was no panic in his silence.

He didn’t rush to answer. He just breathed.

“Yeah,” he said at last. “I think I do.”

She took a breath of her own, the kind that comes from choosing to stay, even when the past clings to your ribs. Then she stepped forward—close enough that their shoulders nearly brushed, not quite touching, but near enough that warmth moved between them again.

“Then let’s go,” she said.

So they did. No grand declarations. No clean endings. Just two people walking slowly through the quiet, side by side, carrying what couldn’t be fixed—but not alone this time.

They stepped into the lobby, their fingers still loosely threaded—barely holding, but not letting go. The world outside the hospital buzzed with fluorescent hums and distant footsteps, louder now, clearer somehow. And yet, the quiet between them was no longer something sharp. It was calm. Steady. A kind of peace.

Sieun’s pace faltered when he saw them.

Jun-tae stood with a gaze filled with worry. Go Tak was next to him—always alert, the crease between his brows softening the moment his eyes landed on Sieun. Baku sat on the bench, knee bouncing restlessly like he’d been trying not to bounce off the walls entirely.

Jun-tae noticed first.

“Sieun,” he said simply.

Go Tak straightened, the edge in his posture lifting slightly. “You okay?”

Sieun gave a small nod. His voice was low, but there was something solid in it now.

“Yeah. I'm pretty sure.”

He didn’t elaborate, but none of them needed more than that.

Jun-tae gave a tearful confession, she smiled at him. He was a nice kid. Then this guy—stands up and pats him like it was the most natural thing in the world. Saying that he doesn't need to worry about Sieun at all. Go Tak offered a small nod, concern folding quietly into relief.

“Took you long enough,” he said, voice just above a murmur.

This guy, Baku.

He stood with all the dramatic energy of someone who’d been holding back a performance, like the entire hospital lobby was his stage and he’d just found his cue. With a flourish only Baku could pull off, he patted Jun-tae’s shoulder—a casual gesture that somehow still managed to be loud—and then turned, eyes narrowing like he’d spotted something scandalous.

His gaze dropped to their hands—still loosely laced, still warm from all the unspoken things they hadn’t let go of yet. Baku’s eyes darted between them, growing comically wide. He pointed, slowly, accusingly, like he’d uncovered a government secret.

“WAIT—SIEUN—YOU—SHE—YOU HAVE A GIRLFRIEND?!”

Sieun blinked.

She blinked.

The hand-holding, still soft between them, hadn’t quite registered until that exact moment.

Sieun looked down at their hands like he was just now remembering he’d been holding hers. She didn’t let go, though. Neither did he.

Go Tak rolled his eyes with a sigh. Jun-tae chuckled softly even with tears brimming his eyes.

But Baku was already mid-spin, arms out, voice raised dramatically.

“Can we just take a moment to appreciate this development? Sieun! With a hand-holding—a hand-holding!—in public!”

Sieun groaned under his breath.

“It’s not like that.”

She lifted her chin a little, trying not to smile.

“We’re just close.”

Baku gave them both a slow, skeptical once-over before the corners of his mouth curled up into a knowing grin.

“It’s like the confession scene in Slam Dunk,” he said, voice dipped in exaggerated awe, clutching his chest as if overcome by the sheer romance of it all. “You know—when Rukawa says nothing but it’s everything? The hands, the silence, the undeniable tension—ah, iconic.”

She laughed at him, “…Rukawa never confessed.”

“That’s the point!” Baku cried, throwing his arms up. “The beauty is in the restraint! In the mutual understanding! In the unspoken emotions shimerring beneath the surface!”

Go Tak sighed, clearly done with this.

No one bothered correcting him again.

The group moved on, steps falling into rhythm. The jokes kept coming, the teasing never quite biting. And between all of it, their hands stayed where they were—still laced, still sure.

She smiled as she watched them—three boys tangled in their usual chaos, laughter sparking like old warmth in a place too quiet for too long. Her voice came low, almost a sigh dressed in fondness.

“Wah… he really is like Suho.” She murmured quietly but enough for Sieun to hear. At the sound of her, Sieun turned. His gaze found hers, lingering—not with surprise, but something quieter. Something like recognition. “You’re leaving?”

She nodded, the edges of her smile softening. “I should. I’ve been here too long… and you’ve got company now.” But he was already moving before she finished, closing the distance like a reflex he hadn’t forgotten.

“I’ll walk you out.”

The three looked at them, and just let them be.

They stepped into the hall together, silence pressing gently between them—not heavy, not awkward, just full of all the things neither of them had the courage to name.

Then, from behind them—

“YEAH, SIEUN—TAKE CARE OF YOUR GIRLFRIEND!” Baku’s voice rang out, unfiltered and obnoxiously proud.

Sieun didn’t miss a beat.

“She’s not my girlfriend.”

He stated, but his eyes glint at him. "Back off"

Baku grinned wider, unbothered. “So I can ask her out?” A sharp thwack cracked through the air as Go Tak smacked the back of Baku’s head, exasperated. “You idiot.”

She laughed, quietly.

And Sieun, for a moment, almost smiled too. He grasped tightly to her hand as they walked side by side.

The automatic doors slid open in front of them. The cold outside air kissed her cheeks, sharp and sobering. Sieun stepped out beside her, hands stuffed in his pockets, eyes cast toward the horizon like he was searching for something that hadn’t quite arrived yet.

They walked a few steps in silence, their shoulders not quite touching, but close enough to feel the presence of one another.

“I wasn’t planning to stay long,” she said quietly, watching her breath curl in the air like smoke. “But it felt hard to leave.”

Sieun looked at her. “I’m glad you didn’t.”

She nodded, eyes fixed on the ground. “I didn’t know what I wanted to say when I saw you again,” she admitted. “But it was never about the words, was it?”

“No,” he murmured. “It was about showing up.”

The silence this time wasn’t heavy. It hung between them like a thread, soft and delicate, but strong enough to hold something unspoken.

She paused near the curb, the edge of where she had to go. He stopped with her.

“Text me,” she said again, barely above a whisper. “Even if it’s just one word.”

“I will.” This time, she smiled—not wide, but real. She took a step backward, eyes still on him.

“Take care of them, okay?” He nodded. “I will.”

And when she turned to leave, he didn’t stop her—not out of apathy, but trust. Trust that she would turn around if she ever needed to, and he’d be there.

Sieun stood beneath the washed-out glow of the awning, the light pooling softly at his feet. He didn’t call her name. Didn’t move. Just watched as she walked into the night, her figure slowly swallowed by shadows and streetlight.

She didn’t look back. Not at first.

But a few steps before the crosswalk, she stopped. The kind of pause that wasn’t hesitation—it was decision.

Then she turned.

Her eyes weren’t bright with tears, and her expression held no drama. Just a kind of quiet knowing. She walked back toward him, deliberate, steady. When she stopped again, it wasn’t hesitation—it was declaration.

From her pocket, she pulled something small.

Then—flick—the arc of motion was smooth, unceremonious. It landed in his hand with the soft clink of metal.

A black punch ring.

Sieun blinked down at it, the cool weight settling into his palm. He didn’t need to ask why. Her voice came low and firm, laced with something fiercer than sadness. “You can’t possibly win with just a ballpen, Sieun-ah. I don’t know what you’re fighting for… but you better win.”

And just like that, she turned.

No goodbye. No glance over her shoulder.

Only the echo of her footsteps and the charged silence she left behind.

Sieun stared at the ring, the hard curve of it pressing into his lifeline.

And then—just barely—a smile found its way to his face.

Not joy. Not hope.

But the kind saying that he was ready.

Ready for her.

Reay to face it all.

After all, he is a hero. A weak one.

♡ note ───── I'd do anything just for you to be mines again. I felt sadness pour into me. When you became a stranger, I knew that you'd be leaving me. Then you became a danger, I felt sadness pour into me.

♡ note ── hope you enjoy it, this would be the last part <3 Probably there would be another one but in S3

───── ★ requested by : @heeknow @alwaysgenerousvoid @snowflakemoon3 @yeon103 @kellystyles18 @littlebluebird2000 @hollxe1 @dripoftheseus @enhajungwonheart @energydrinkstastegood @zuwizy @trasshy-artist @cassieeelim @myouiwp @dutifullyannoyingstrawberrie @rexxiiia @aple-piie @sarangs-world-02 @enhacolor

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starlightsreigns · 9 months ago

Text

there goes my baby | j. uso

summary: jey isn't ashamed of how much he loves his raye, and he's going all out for their anniversary.

word count: 1.4k

warnings: none, pure fluffy fluff.

author's note: i got a request for jey fluff and had this in the vault, so it gave me a reason to finish it!! ignore my errors pls x

there goes my baby..

Raye, unbeknownst to her, was being watched from the bathroom where she was finishing up with her hair. Her boyfriend, Jey, lingered in the doorway, away from her eyeline, just watching as she finished her makeup and brushed out her now now straightened her that flowed down to her waist. She absentmindely listened to music, singing along to Usher for the past hour. When she came out of the bathroom, Jey was sitting on the bed, head buried in his phone, yet he was still watching his girl from the corner of his eyes.

bet you ain’t know that i be checkin you out, and you be puttin your heels on…

The way her fingers skillfully put on her shoe then slowly run up to her knees as she pulled herself up to work on the other one caught all his attention. Jey couldn’t help but bite his lip at her actions, watching the way her ass poked in the air, the way her hair fell over her shoulder, but it didn’t hide her face that graced a smile filled with concentration. Everything about her screamed perfection. Raye flipped her head back as she straightened out, turning away from him to reach her jewellery on the dresser. The couple lock eyes in the mirror on the wall. She sends him the sweetest smile, completely lost in her own thoughts and the music playing the background.

i get chills whenever i see your face and see you in the place, girl…

Jey makes his way to stand behind Raye, helping her with her necklace, taking the moment to feel her soft skin under his fingers. She shudders softly, looking up to meet his eyes again. The softness in his eyes made butterflies flutter in her stomach. It was their anniversary. Two years of being together and in that moment it felt like just yesterday they had said I love you for the first time.

i’ve been waitin all day to wrap my hands around your waist and kiss your face…

Raye twirls in her heels to face him, resting her hands on his chest to stare up at him. Jey wraps his arms around her waist, pulling her closer to him before capturing her lips in a kiss. It was soft, warm, and it tugged on Raye’s heartstrings. She could feel his every emotion in that one kiss. When they pulled away, they were breathless and all they could do is rest their foreheads against one anothers.

“I love you, baby.”

Raye smiles, attempting to wipe the red lipstick off his lip but he stops her.

“Nah, leave it mama, I like it.” He chuckles, kissing her again.

“I love you more.” She murmurs then plants a firm kiss on his cheek, leaving another bright lip print that makes her grin. “I’ve always loved red on you.”

It was nearly a struggle for them to leave the house. There was nothing more that Jey wanted than to strip down and lay in the bed for the rest of the night, but he had too much planned for his girl, so he ushered them into the car and into the forty five minute drive. Raye kept her fingers interlaced with Jey’s as she sang along to the same song that played before they left the house.

wouldn’t trade this feeling for nothing, not even for a minute…

Every now and then, as they cruise down the semi busy highway, Jey would take a glance at Raye whose eyes trained out the window. The ease at which her eyes followed cars, the slight frown on her face when she was deep in a thought, or the way her lips would upturn when she zoned back in to hear the music were his favorite things about her. Jey hums to himself as he focuses his attention on the road, running his thumb over her hand.

Dinner was sweet. Raye sat beside Jey in the booth, people watching as they waited for their food. Their hands were still interlaced and resting on his thigh. Jey gave it a light squeeze to capture her attention.

“You look so beautiful tonight.”

Raye’s grin could light up the dim room as she wiped some of her lipstick off his lip, “Thank you, lovey, you look real handsome.” She ran her hand down the side of his face. “Happy anniversary.”

“Two years already,” He chuckled. “Can’t believe you dealt with me for that long.”

“Man, hush, of course I would.” Raye playfully punched his chest. “This is already upstaging last year.”

Their one year anniversary unfortunately saw Jey on the road and out of the country. It was unfortunate, but he flew her out to Japan and made it the best it could be with sightseeing and dinner the night of. She appreciated all the effort even though he had a lot of media in between. It was by far a great experience, but being with him and having his undivided attention was more than enough.

“This is better than, Japan?” He gasped sarcastically, laughing at the roll of her eye. “I got more for you tonight, mama, just wait.”

Raye raises an eyebrow, eyeing him suspiciously because of his mischievous grin.

ꕀ ꕀ ꕀ

“Are your eyes close, mama, don’t be peakin’ now,” Jey laughs as he leads Raye through the door of the hotel room. He positions her with a full view of the room before stepping away.

Raye, with her eyes still close, covers her mouth as she giggles listening to him stumble around the room making noise. When it goes quiet, she takes a breath feeling left out. “Babe, what’s goin’ on?” She reaches out to feel him but is met with nothing but the air.

“Okay, okay, open ‘em,” She can hear the smile in his voice.

As Raye’s eyes adjust to the light, she gasps at the sight in front of her, instinctively covering her mouth with her hand. The room is covered in flowers, pink and white peonies, her favorite. She glances at him as he watches the way her eyes light up. Raye takes slow steps as she continues to look around – pink rose petals adorn the bed, several bags for different stores and designers sit on the window sill, beside them are several photographs of the couple over the past two years. Her hand lightly grazes the one of them on their very first trip out of the country then the one of them at their first Christmas. Jey even went to the lengths of lighting candles around the room, there were beautiful red heart balloons everywhere, and the date of their anniversary spelled out in balloons against the bed frame.

It was all so much more than she could’ve imagined. Raye turned to look at Jey, the tears brimming her makeup-filled eyes. He quickly made his way to hear, holding her face in the palm of his hands, just surveying her face, waiting for her reaction.

“This is a forever thing,” She smiled up at him watching relief wash over his face. “Me and you, forever?”

Jey chuckled, pulling her into him, “This a forever thing, baby.”

“I love you, I love this, I love us.” Raye squeezed him tightly, never wanting to let him go.

When they separate, Raye steps closer to survey the pictures that he chose. She stares at one of them at riverfall where her hair was soaked and they’re laughing. She lets out a laugh and turns mid sentence -

“Do you remember how…” Raye stops abruptly to see Jey down on his knee. “Bro?” Is all she’s able

Jey lets out a laugh, “Only you Raye, I love you so much, and I wanna make this a forever thing. You’re the greatest woman I’ve ever met in my entire life. Will you marry me?”

Raye’s mouth hangs open as she stares at him. She can’t form the thoughts and all she can do is nod viciously. A few tears fall down her cheek as she crouchs down in front of him.

“Of fucking course, you beuatiful man, I’ll marry you.” She basically screams in excitement, wrapping her arms around him. “Oh my god, are you serious?”

“So serious, baby.” Jey squeezes her, helping her up off the ground. “So, this anniversary still better than Japan?”

Raye rolls her eyes with a grin, “Like, a million times better.”

can't tell how i feel about this, but we need more jey fluff in this world. x yeet.

#wwe #wwe fanfiction #wwe fic #wwe imagine #wwe raw #wwe smackdown #the bloodline #jey uso #the usos #main event jey uso #jey uso fanfiction #jey uso x reader #jey uso fic #jey uso imagine

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tenebraevesper · 1 year ago

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Five Nights at Freddy's: Obsolete, Night 1: Thanks For The Memories

''And I've lost who I am, and I can't understand why my heart is so broken, rejecting your love without, love gone wrong, lifeless words carry on. But I know, all I know, is that the end's beginning. Who I am from the start, take me home to my heart. Let me go and I will run, I will not be silent. All this time spent in vain, wasted years, wasted gain. All is lost, hope remains, and this war's not over. There's a light, there's the sun, taking all shattered ones to the place we belong, and his love will conquer all. Yesterday I died, tomorrow's bleeding, fall into your sunlight…''

– Shattered by Trading Yesterday (Nightcore)

xXxXxXx

She woke up, panting and feeling as if she was being chased by someone. She looked around her room and quickly got up, having a strange feeling in her stomach. It was almost second in her nature to feel paranoid about certain things, especially after what had happened in the past months. She walked into the hallway and noticed that the door next to her room was open. She sighed and quickly ran downstairs and into the hallway that led to the front door.

The front door was wide open, with a brunette teenage girl dressed in a black long-sleeved shirt and pants standing on the porch and looking at the small woods that were close to the house. The woman walked over to her. The teenager's dark brown eyes were open and glassy, and she had a blank look on her face, staring into the distance. It seemed as if she couldn't see the the woman who was standing right in front of her. The woman glanced at the teenager's right hand, which was slightly clutched, as if gripping the handle of some invisible tool.

The woman then gently took the teenager's arm, keeping a firm grip on it, and slowly led the teenager back into the house and up to her room. The moment the teenager entered her room, she relaxed and walked over to her bed, lying down. The woman pulled the blanked over her daughter and tucked her in, feeling rather tired, but glad that she didn't find her roaming around the yard.

She then closed the door and went downstairs in order to lock the front door, still wondering how her daughter managed to unlock it while sleepwalking, although she figured that people did even crazier things when in that state. As she walked back upstairs, she briefly stopped in front of the first room next to the stairs, the guest room, being a little hesitant about checking it.

The nightmare's over, isn't it? She then shook her head and walked back to her room. You'd think that things would return to normal, but it seems that this isn't the case.

xXx

Samantha Blackburn, a 17-year-old teenager, felt like a truck had ran her over as she walked to school. She was completely exhausted, having been unable to sleep well the last night. Not to mention, her mother, Emma Blackburn, had told her that she was sleepwalking again. This still wasn't a good enough excuse for her to skip school, though.

It's not as if I wanted to skip school, Sam thought bitterly. I'll just fall asleep during class.

She rubbed the back of her head and yawned, shaking her head in order to keep herself awake. Frankly, she wasn't looking forward to drag herself from class to class and try to pretend that she was conscious and interested enough so her teachers wouldn't ask questions. Aside from the tiredness, she wasn't particularly bothered by the nightmares that plagued her, with those nightmares often involving her being hunted down by a shadow-like figure who wanted either to torture her or murder her, as she experienced much worse in real life. Nevertheless, she wouldn't have minded to be able to sleep without dreaming of anything, whether pleasant or nightmarish.

''This whole thing is just a pain in the-''

Before Sam could finish the sentence, her vision went dark as someone put their hands over her eyes.

''What are you up to?''

Sam managed to pry the hands off her eyes, turning around and giving a tall, dark-haired teenager an irritated look.

''Matt, I'm not in the mood for your antics.''

The teenager, Matthew Dearth, just smiled mischievously. Sam sighed and walked away, while Matt followed her with a rather cheerful look on his expression.

''Let me guess, you didn't sleep well tonight,'' he said. Sam yawned again.

''Yeah, I was sleepwalking, again,'' she replied. ''Mum got me when I was still on the porch. I guess it's a good thing I didn't walk into the woods behind our house.''

''Have you thought of visiting a doctor?'' Matt asked her.

''No, I had figured that I'd be able to handle it on my own,'' Sam told him as they walked up to the school building. She yawned again, scratching her head. ''It's not that bad.''

''I wouldn't be so sure about it,'' Matt replied. ''But, I guess you've been through much worse.''

''You have no idea,'' Sam told him. Matt gave her a knowing smile.

''Try me,'' he said, placing his hands in his pockets. ''Remember what I told you when we first met?''

''You were a complete creep,'' Sam replied, crossing her arms and rising an eyebrow. Matt scratched his cheek with his forefinger, smiling nervously.

''Well, I haven't met someone interesting like you,'' he said. ''Besides, I have a tendency to be quite straightforward when things get intriguing.''

''It was still creepy,'' Sam replied flatly.

''I'm sorry,'' Matt said sheepishly. The two then walked into the school building, with Sam suddenly stumbling as another girl pushed her, walking past her.

''Hey!'' she called out angrily. The girl who pushed her briefly turned around, glaring at her like she was a piece of trash and then walked away.

''Are you okay?'' Matt asked her, with Sam nodding. He then glanced at the girl, who vanished from his vision. ''Tessa seems to still hate you.''

''Well, I warned her,'' Sam replied. ''Misery loves company and I had told myself I wouldn't be hanging out with toxic people anymore.''

''I can only agree,'' Matt replied. ''I hope I'm not the kind of toxic person you'd want to avoid.''

''No, you're just a creep,'' Sam replied, her frown then fading as her lips curved into a smile and she and Matt chuckled.

It was rather unexpected and Sam considered it a chance meeting, but she was quite happy that she became friends with Matt. He was a new student at her school and when Sam first saw him sitting in the classroom, he was surrounded by her former friends-turned-bullies, but refused to talk to them, looking rather annoyed whenever they asked him a question. Clearly, he wasn't a social butterfly.

Things, however, took a different turn during lunch. Sam had found an empty table at the canteen, figuring that she'd better get used to being alone this year. She didn't mind it, as she heavily disliked the people who used to be her friends and knew that it would be better for her to just be on her own. However, her quiet lunch was interrupted soon by Matt, who had approached her while carrying his plate and backpack. Sam blinked, staring at him completely puzzled.

''Um, hi?''

''Something tragic had happened in your life,'' Matt told her bluntly, with Sam rising an eyebrow. ''Did someone die? A friend of yours, or maybe a family member?''

''Huh?'' Sam's mind was still processing what Matt had told her, only to freak out a moment later. ''I-I have no idea what you're talking about.''

''Really?'' Matt asked. ''You appear to have a lot of agony and awful memories attached to yourself. Maybe there were multiple tragedies in your life.''

''What kind of question is that?'' Sam replied dryly. Matt put his plate and backpack down, sitting down across Sam.

''I just had a feeling,'' he said. ''You won't mind if I join you, right?''

''Well, I guess it's fine,'' she said, albeit still feeling weirded out. ''Also, what exactly are you talking about?''

''I was just searching for someone interesting to talk to,'' Matt replied. ''My name is Matthew Dearth, but you can call me Matt, if you want.''

''I'm Samantha Blackburn, and I'd prefer if you just called me Samantha rather than shorten my name,'' Sam said, narrowing her eyes. ''You still didn't answer my question.''

''What makes you say that?'' Matt asked her.

''You approach me claiming how I experienced a tragedy in my life and then you say that you were just searching for someone interesting to talk to,'' Sam replied. ''Either you're messing with me or you have some weird ideas.''

''Let's just say that I have something of a knack for finding people who had some kind of misfortune happen in their life. The more devastating the event was, the stronger my sense gets,'' Matt explained.

''Then, I'll have to disappoint you,'' Sam replied in a nonchalant tone. ''The only so-called tragedy I had experienced was my parents getting divorced, but even that couldn't be described as a 'tragedy', since my parents get along well. Or do you also count being bullied by your former friends or disrespected by your co-workers as a tragedy?''

''No, not really,'' Matt replied, giving her a questioning look. ''Maybe I shouldn't have been so forward with my assumptions.''

''You're right about that,'' Sam told him.

''But, I was so convinced that you had something attached to yourself…'' Matt muttered. Sam snorted.

''If it helps your case, I'm an urban explorer and I tend visit places that are abandoned or supposedly haunted,'' she explained. ''Maybe that's why you thought I had experienced something tragic? Perhaps a spirit had attached itself to me?''

''It is possible, but I still have my doubts…'' Matt admitted, sighing. He then got up. ''I'm sorry for bothering you.''

''You know, you don't have to leave,'' Sam said, giving him an inviting smile. ''I already made peace with the fact that I'll be spending this year alone and then suddenly, there's someone who actually wants to talk to me. Even if you had strange assumptions about me, that doesn't mean that I want you to leave.''

''Thanks,'' Matt said, looking relieved, and sat back. ''I guess I should be less straightforward next time.''

''Actually, I don't mind it, as long as you are being honest with me,'' Sam said. ''Not to mention, I am into weird stuff, especially when its of the supernatural kind.''

''Oh, really?'' Matt's eyes widened with interest and he gave Sam a curious look. They spent the rest of the lunch in a deep conversation about their interests, almost missing their next class.

I told him that I'm fine with what he is telling me as long as he's being honest with me, Sam thought as she remembered their conversation. But, I'm a complete hypocrite, since I never told him the truth about myself and kept pretending everything was fine. She sighed. I thought I was done with that masquerade.

''Anyways, Sam, do you have any plans after school?'' Matt suddenly asked, startling Sam.

''Well, I have to go to work this afternoon,'' she said. ''If you want, you can come along, that is, if you can handle screaming children and annoying parents.''

''As long as they don't mistake me for your co-worker…'' Matt trailed off, winking at her. Sam snorted.

''Honestly, I meet all kinds of people there,'' she said. ''Thank God I'm just a technician who mostly works in the back room. Yesterday, a woman who had that Karen haircut and sunglasses had demanded the manager because their server was supposedly rude to them. However, instead of getting a discount, Anthelm told her how she would get sued, because her kid damaged one of the arcade machines.''

''Seriously?'' Matt stared at her in surprise.

''Actually, he just jammed the machine; it was a quick fix,'' Sam explained. ''The entitled mother, however, quickly ran out once she heard there might be a lawsuit and left the kid behind. His father had to pick him up and he did not look happy.''

''Poor guy,'' Matt said, still amused.

''Yeah,'' Sam said, shaking her head. ''I'm more baffled that she forgot her kid, especially since he was wailing like crazy, so it's not like he wasn't noticeable. Besides, we have a notice posted on the website and put on the entrance about that kind of stuff.'' Sam cleared her throat. '''Fazbear Entertainment is not liable for any missing or hurt children. The child's physical and emotional well-being is the parents' responsibility'.''

''I guess that they don't want to repeat the fiasco that happened at Ricky's Wonder Shack,'' Matt added.

''Well, it's not like they haven't been involved into a fiasco of their own,'' Sam muttered irritably.

''Ah, that…'' Matt smirked. ''Speaking of which, I might drop by today. Hell, maybe we could check Ricky's out while we're at it, since it's abandoned. I doubt there's going to be anyone at the building.''

''We could take a peek through the windows,'' Sam said, shrugging. She had figured that it would be better not to reveal that she actually still had the keys to the restaurant, having copied them several months ago. ''I wonder if anyone bought the building.''

''I don't think so,'' Matt replied. ''It doesn't appear that anyone wants to tear it down either.''

''Nobody tore down Freddy's, and we both know what had happened there,'' Sam said in a grim tone. ''They too just shut down the place and left it abandoned.''

''Yeah, but unlike Ricky's, they had managed to make a comeback and going by what I heard, they will be soon finished with their other project,'' Matt added. ''It's kind of surprising.''

''I don't know whether that's good or bad news,'' Sam muttered. ''Knowing Fazbear Entertainment, as well as the kind of history Freddy's has, one should be afraid of what might happen next.''

''Yet, you insist on working there,'' Matt replied, grinning mischievously.

''Well, I'm still the only one qualified enough to work with the animatronics,'' Sam said, shrugging.

''Oh, really?'' Matt asked in a teasing tone. Sam nodded.

''Trust me, once I told Anthelm I would have to change my work schedule due to school, she told me she had thought of finding someone who would work the position full-time,'' Sam said nonchalantly. ''However, no one wants the job, for some reason.''

''I can only image why,'' Matt said. ''Those animatronics are kind of scary.''

''Actually, they're not that bad,'' Sam said. ''That is, as long as you aren't a creep or a threat to the children that are there.''

''Did they attempt to stuff someone in a suit?'' Matt asked curiously.

''Well, I found Puppet looming over some guy who was trying to calm down his kid who was crying about not getting what she wanted,'' Sam said in a nonchalant tone. ''Trust me, these animatronics know what's going on there and they will go after you if they think you're a threat.''

''I guess I'm lucky they didn't go after me,'' Matt said jokingly.

''You have no idea…'' Sam sighed.

xXx

The rest of the school day was rather unmemorable and Sam was just happy that classes were over. After saying goodbye to Matt, she walked down the street to her house, feeling drained. If someone asked her, the summer holidays were too short and had ended too soon. However, she had already figured that this was solely because of the events that happened during those few weeks. Every day, something exciting occurred and she was essentially taking things for granted. Despite her complaining, she now wished that things turned out differently.

This is nothing I can do about now, though. She sighed. Mum was right – this should've happened much sooner. After all, I was just putting myself into danger. Being able to actually return to a normal life should be considered a blessing after that mess.

She felt rather irritable as she thought about the past summer, shaking her head and trying to forget about everything. What happened, happened. I should just consider it a fever dream and be thankful that I woke up from it. Seriously, what the hell was I even thinking?

She had figured that her life would return to normal, as if nothing had happened, but it was clear that that wouldn't be the case. What she saw and what she learned left a strong impact on her and she knew that it was up to her to deal with her new, so-called ''legacy''.

Working at Freddy Fazbear's Pizza was just one part of it and even though her mother suggested that she could simply quit if she felt overwhelmed, Sam refused, having grown fond of her job, even if the animatronics would at times act weird around her. She had even worked on expanding her knowledge in robotics, aware that she still had to polish her skills as a technician, but she sincerely doubted that the Showtime Animatronics, the new generation she had met during her time there, were acting that way because of a malfunction.

Another reason why it was difficult for her to return to any semblance of a normal life was her connection with the supernatural, thanks to a freak accident that left her near death. She managed to recover, but soon found out that she could see spirits of the deceased and even interact with them. Curiously, she hadn't seen any spirit for quite a while now and wasn't sure whether it was a good or a bad sign. She had actually thought that she might get a visit from those who knew her, but it soon dawned on her that it was better for everyone to stay in the afterlife.

That's the way it should be. Dead people should stay dead.

Sam took a deep breath as she finally reached her house. She got up on the porch and opened her backpack, searching for the key. She briefly glanced at the woods beside her house, as if expecting someone to suddenly walk out, but there wasn't anyone.

Right, I haven't seen them in months.

She then unlocked the front door, opening it and locking it once she was inside the house. It was dead silent inside and Sam knew that her mother was still at work. She had been talking about taking another business trip, meaning Sam would be alone for a couple of days. Sam was actually fine with it, having been already used to being all by herself.

''You could call Matt over, if you want,'' Emma had suggested.

Sam cracked a smile as she remembered that. Emma was actually overjoyed when Sam had introduced Matt to her. She had been telling Sam for a while that she needed to find a friend her age, a friend who was actually alive and not a murderer. While Matt met the former two requirements, Sam would joke that she wasn't sure about the third one. Even though Emma wasn't amused, Matt found her remark funny, noting how he was glad to have found a new friend so short after moving to Hurricane.

You're not the only one.

Sam sighed as she walked up the stairs and into the hallway. She stopped at the first door, the one that led to the guest room and frowned, glaring at the door as if it personally offended her. She then walked over to the room next to it, her bedroom.

I don't have to deal with this anymore.

She threw her backpack on the floor and lied down on her bed, staring at the ceiling. She was tired, but she simply couldn't fall asleep. Her head hurt and thoughts swirled in her mind, making her feel as if she was flipping through TV channels. She couldn't focus on anything and even trying to make up her mind felt like a chore. She knew that, even though she wasn't physically hurt, she still didn't mentally recover from what happened. She was once again faking that smile, acting as if everything was fine and there was nothing to be worried about.

The sole reason for that was because she didn't want to upset her mother, feeling that she already put Emma through enough unnecessary trouble. Not to mention, she felt that she also didn't have the right to complain about anything. She brought it upon herself, hoping for something that would never come true. She was being punished, simply because she trusted someone everyone claimed to be pure evil. She rolled over to her side.

I'm an idiot… I should've seen this coming…

She narrowed her eyes, glancing at the box she had left on her bookshelf. It was a VR headset and she thought that she could play a game, just to forget reality for a second. However, the only game she had for that was a video game called Five Nights at Freddy's VR: Help Wanted. She did play it a few times, but quickly grew annoyed by it, as it constantly reminded her of things she wanted to forget, of things she didn't care anymore.

It's just a waste of time, she thought in frustration. A moment later, she felt bad for thinking like that. After all, the console and the game were a gift from her father, which she was really happy about, especially since she got the game before the official release; and even bought the official game just to see whether there were any differences between the two. Her father had told her that a co-worker of his gave him her copy of the game after he talked about Sam one too many times, wishing her luck in beating it and finding out about its secrets.

Sam, on the other hand, had figured that there weren't really any secrets in the game. Sure, she had found a few items during her playthrough, the most important being the glitchy Tapes, but she didn't bother picking them up and listening to them. After all, she was already told in the introduction part of the game what it's purpose was.

''Welcome to the Freddy Fazbear Virtual Experience. Fazbear Entertainment is excited to join the digital age and what better way to do that than with an edge-of-your-seat virtual reality experience!''

''We know that Fazbear Entertainment has developed something of a bad reputation over the last few decades, and while it's true that some stories associated with our name were loosely based on actual events, the majority of them were total fabrications from the mind of a complete lunatic (lawsuits pending), but we aren't above laughing at ourselves, ha ha ha. That's why we have recreated many of these completely fictitious scenarios (lies) that you've been fed over the last several years into a hilarious VR games, in the hopes that we can finally move past these childish ghost stories and develop a new relationship with you, as well as your kids! (Don't forget the merch, perfect for birthdays.) So sit back and enjoy a few scares.''

''We do, however, ask that you agree to a simple waiver before you play. It's mostly just a legal mumbo-jumbo, and isn't at all based on user experiences thus far or injuries associated with testing. Just touch the button to agree and then we can jump right into some harmless fun that can't harm you at all in any harmful way. Thank you for playing the Freddy Fazbear Virtual Experience.''

''You acknowledge that Fazbear Entertainment is not responsible for accidental digital consciousness transfer, real world manifestations of digital characters, nightmares, night terrors, night sweat-''

They're just trying to salvage their reputation and make some money off the game, nothing else, Sam thought bitterly. What else should've I expected from Fazbear Entertainment? She closed her eyes. Not to mention, the fact that they also have other projects planned out. At least I've found out what happened to the Machinations Factory. She then lied down on her back, placing her hands behind her head. Frankly, I can't tell who is worse, Fazbear Entertainment or Wolfrun Corporation. Hell, neither of them cared about the people and incidents that happened on their property until it was too late. But, unlike Fazbear Entertainment, it seems that Wolfrun Corporation had finally quit being part of this industry. They made the same mistakes as the former, but unlike them, it seems they knew when to give up. She sighed. Of course, who would've predicted that one of their employees would be so bloodthirsty?

She closed her eyes again, feeling herself slowly drifting away into the darkness.

What a nightmare… But, it's over, isn't it?

xXx

''It's so quiet,'' Emma muttered under her breath as she entered the house, wondering whether Sam had returned home. According to the time, she would soon have to go to work. ''Sam?''

There was no response, causing Emma to walk upstairs and knock on the door to Sam's room.

''Sam?'' She opened the door, noticing Sam lying on her bed, seemingly asleep. Then, Sam opened her eyes, giving her mother an irritated look. ''Sweetheart, are you okay? Don't you have to go to work today?''

''Yeah, I do,'' Sam replied, getting up and grabbing her uniform, which consisted of black pants and dark purple polo T-shirts with a logo sewn on the left side of the chest. The logo was a black Freddy head inside a circle, with the name of the location, Freddy Fazbear's Pizza, being written inside the circle. Her name tag was clipped on the belt. ''I'll be downstairs soon.''

''Okay,'' Emma replied, closing the door. She then leaned against it, taking a deep breath.

Ever since the accident from a few months ago, Sam's attitude had changed. She became withdrawn again, as well as irritable, refusing to talk about anything what happened during that summer. She noted that she didn't care anymore about it and that she couldn't live in the past, else something bad might happen. Emma had to wonder how she wasn't reminded of what happened since she was still working at Freddy Fazbear's Pizza, refusing to quit her job.

''It doesn't matter,'' Sam had told her. ''This has nothing to do with that idiot.''

''Sweetie, I know that this is hard for you…'' Emma wanted to comfort her, but Sam quickly cut her off.

''You know, you should be happy that he's gone,'' she said. ''That's what you wanted all along, right?''

''Of course, but…''

''Then, this discussion is over.''

I wouldn't be so sure about it, Emma thought, shaking her head. She glanced at the door that led to the guest room, walking over to it. Her hand was on the door knob, but she was reluctant to open it, even though she already knew that the room was completely empty. It doesn't matter whether he's gone or not, he still managed to influence Sam significantly.

Emma hated to admit it, but she was at loss when it came to how she was supposed to handle this situation. It seemed at first as if Sam went back to her withdrawn self, but she would still go out and talk to people. She even made a new friend at school and she even looked happy when talking about Matt. Yet, Emma couldn't shake off the feeling that she was hiding something. Despite her smiling, Emma was aware that Sam was deeply hurt and that wound that had been inflicted on her wouldn't heal so easily.

Ignoring the issue isn't a solution either. Emma feared that Sam's emotions would eventually reach their boiling point and spill over. Could a person really be able to hide their feelings for so long before they finally had enough? She was afraid for her daughter's mental health, but at the same time, she felt helpless. She didn't feel that there was anything she could to help her deal with this issue and instead remained quiet, respecting Sam's wishes and demands. In the end, it's all his fault.

Emma opened the door to the guest room and, just as she expected, found it completely empty and devoid of any sign that anyone had ever stayed there. I wish it were just all a bad dream, but I can't deny that it was all very real.

She stared at the room in silence as she thought about the past months. It still baffled her that Sam went from defending her former friend to refusing to even acknowledge his existence or even call him by his name. Emma had told her that, if there was anything Sam wanted to talk about, she could tell her, but Sam noted that there wasn't anything worth a discussion and that she wanted to move on with her life.

However, it was painfully clear that, under all that, no matter how much she acted as if it didn't affect her, Sam was completely heartbroken, her heart shattered beyond repair.

In the end, what you feared the most has happened, Afton. You hurt Sam, despite promising that you would keep her safe. Even if you didn't physically harm her, you did emotionally scar her. It seems like you just can't interact with people without making someone your next victim.

Truth to be told, Emma secretly wanted to celebrate the fact that Afton had finally left, but after what Sam had told her about what had happened, she knew that she couldn't. Seeing her daughter being so hurt made her angry and frustrated, but she knew that nothing could be done. This was how things were supposed to be and there was never a guarantee that this story would have a happy ending. This was the best they got.

''You know that he's gone.'' Emma suddenly turned around and saw Sam glaring at her, her arms folded on her chest. ''He's not coming back, ever.''

''Sam-'' Emma wanted to speak up, but Sam cut her off.

''I don't want him to return,'' she said in an icy tone. ''For all I care, he just should stay in Hell, where he belongs.''

She then turned around, walking downstairs. Emma just stared at her, speechless. If it were several months ago, she would've been happy to hear this kind of opinion coming from Sam. However, she knew that this didn't reflect her daughter's true feelings. Emma wanted to agree with her, but she knew that she would be lying to herself if she claimed that Sam had finally realized that Afton was a bad influence for her, that he was someone she never should've met – someone she should hate regardless of what happened.

Emma sincerely hated seeing her like this, so bitter, frustrated and depressed and she wished that she could help her. However, it was obvious that Sam didn't care anymore nor that she wanted help. Even though she didn't want to get herself trapped in the past, she couldn't move on from her memories and emotions associated with them.

The one person who cared about you the most is the one who hates you more than anyone else.

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#Five Nights at Freddy's: The Untold Story #Five Nights at Freddy's: Obsolete #william afton #springtrap #fnaf #five nights at freddy's #fnaf ucn #ultimate custom night #five nights at freddy's vr help wanted #fnaf help wanted #glitchtrap

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starchildghost · 5 months ago

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Ten people i'd like to get to know better ask game!!

Tagged by: @sleepy-insomnia-bear

Last song: This is a great question lol I had on Wolf 359 (a podcast) all yesterday when I was cooking and today my soundtrack has mostly been my partner playing NieR: Automata which I have been enjoying. It looks like the last song I had up was How Lucky Am I? by The Toxhards

Favorite color: love a nice green

Last book: JUST finished The King in Yellow by Robert W. Chambers, which is a short story collection that I picked up because it helped inspire some horror things I like (they mentioned it in the silt verses q&a). However, it was published in 1895 and that shows! I think people usually break it up as the first four short stories (which are about/involve The King in Yellow, an in-universe demented play that changes anyone who reads it) vs everything else, which feels correct to me too - I have to look up more about why it is the way it is, tbh Before that was The Seep by Chana Porter which I enjoyed immensely; it's about aliens who gently take over earth and our protagonist is a trans woman whose life changes in the wake of this. a lot of loving and learning how to move on and love yourself and better yourself all in this weird alien lens - I really liked it

Last Movie: we had a movie night last weekend with a friend! Comically, this included the Blue Lock: Episode Nagi movie (pure cinema), Challengers (god.), and Sweethearts (2024), in that order. Episode Nagi is very FUN as blue lock anime fans but idk if I would say it's GOOD - there's a very load-bearing montage at the end that they included for basically no reason other than to advertise that s2 of the anime was coming out and honestly I find it endearing and funny; I don't think I have anything unique to say about Challengers but Zendaya is just so damn good; Sweethearts was something no one had high expectations for but it was perfectly fine, though the protagonists suffered from teen movie protagonist syndrome and were the least interesting characters there.

Last TV show: technically this is Black Clover as I've been watching it with my girlfriend - we're just about to go back to the Heart Kingdom lol. Otherwise, we've been keeping up with most of Dropout's non-d20 shows and Abbott Elementary

Sweet/savory/spicy: Sweet>savory>spicy. I'm a baby about spice and they removed my gallbladder. Have a powerful sweet tooth too, even when it comes to wine lol

Relationship status: with my partner for over 4 years now!

Last thing I googled: Stuff about the looping NieR: Automata gameplay for my partner as I don't care about spoiling a game I am not actively playing for myself lol. The other thing I've been keeping close tabs on is the nwsl trades and such, but the moratorium for Christmas goes into effect right about now so soon I will briefly be free from dooming about Gotham FC

Current obsession: I have sort have been afloat lately! I honestly haven't watched CR since they put Delilah in a rock (and honestly, based on what I've been seeing friends and people whose opinions on it I trust, I stand by my choice), the NWSL is in the offseason, I like Wolf 359 a lot but would still consider myself a casual fan. I don't know! I am cooking up a critical role fic (and have some other wips) so I guess that would still be the reigning champ!

Looking forward to: seeing my friends and family for the holidays and having this time to recharge before going back to work. My best friend is getting married next year and getting to plan all of that with her will be so nice too

Thanks so much for tagging me! It's been a bit of a weird time lately, I'm glad to know people still want to hear my thoughts on anything. I know I've sort of retreated from talking to people as much so I'll hold off on tagging anyone - if you want to play, feel free to and tag me, I'd love to see your answers!

#thanks for the tag!

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theidiotwhowritesthings · 2 years ago

Text

INEVITABLE [2]

din djarin x female!reader

warnings: language, mentions of the slave trade, canon violence, blood and injuries

word count: 6,030

Summary: It was like fate or destiny had planned from the beginning for you to be on the run from the law. With the words ‘I can bring you in warm, or I can bring you in cold’ adorning your rib cage you always wondered what was worse: Knowing you were bound to being wanted or realizing your soulmate was a cursed bounty hunter. You had a mission to finish and no bounty hunter, soulmate or not, was going to stop you.

[previous] [next]

02: FALLING FOR YOU

"courage is knowing it might hurt, and doing it anyways. stupidity is the same. and that's why life is hard." ⏤jeremy goldberg

It had been a very long time since Din was nervous before a hunt. Wary, maybe, or concerned, but not nervous. He had retreated to the Razor Crest for the night, needing the time to mentally and emotionally spiral while in the safety of his own ship, then the next day he started tracking you down once more. Din thought surely you would’ve left Bespin entirely, but he tracked you back to a cantina. A different cantina. But still.

Just as he had yesterday, Din simply stepped into the building. He had planned to be more tactful today, but realizing you were in another cantina had been curious enough to throw him off entirely. You sat at the bar this time, turned so you could lean your back against the counter, with pretty eyes glancing around the room. Your eyes darted to him, away, then back again. Din expected a lot of reactions to his presence, but he never would’ve guessed that you’d roll your eyes with a huff and turn back around.

What the hell?

Din crossed the room. Grogu whined from inside the closed pram floating behind him. The child hated being locked away, and Din hated locking him away, but he didn’t trust himself around this quarry. And that’s what you were. A quarry. He had to remind himself of that again.

“Can I buy you a drink, bucket head?” You asked. Din narrowed his eyes at you in a glare⏤ knowing good and well you couldn’t see it, but it made him feel better to do it. You glanced over your shoulder at him with that same infuriating smirk you shot him yesterday. “What’s your poison of choice?”

“You’re coming with me.” Din demanded.

“Mmm, no thanks.”

Din shook his head, “That wasn’t a choice.”

“It kind of felt like a choice when I kicked your ass yesterday and ran.” You snickered. “Mandalorian.”

The way you said his title was mocking and it made Din’s skin bristle with irritation. His hands drifted to his hips and he leaned in toward you. “Get up now.”

You groaned. “Seriously, bucket head⏤”

“Don’t call me that.” He snapped.

“⏤what do I have to do to get you off my back?” You had continued on, unphased by his demeanor. “Credits? Is that what gets you going in the morning?” You turned back around, maintaining your confident posture, and it put your face by his. “I can get you some credits. Probably. Do you take IOUs?”

Din tried to keep his composure. He had dealt with plenty of quarries who mouthed off to him, but this was the quickest it had actually worked. Din leaned back to stand tall once more. You quirked an eyebrow up at him and he locked his jaw. He wondered if you could hear his teeth grind together. Din reached to his belt, pulling off the binders, and slammed them on the counter by you.

“Put them on.”

“That’s a bit lazy of you, don’t you think?” You replied. “At least all the other hunters I faced did their own dirty work.”

Briefly, Din felt a flash of anger at the thought of a bunch of hunters manhandling you. It was gone as quick as it came, and the feeling was replaced with annoyance that it came at all. This soulmate thing was becoming a real nuisance. Fine. You wanted to make this difficult? Din would be the bounty hunter you expected him to be.

Din grabbed you by the wrist roughly, spinning you in your seat so he could twist your arm behind you. His other hand grasped you by the back of the neck and he slammed you into the counter. The sound of your grunt of pain made his grip marginally loosen. He leaned in once more, “Anything to say now?”

“Now? No.” You replied. “But I’ll let you know if I think of something.”

If Din thought fate had been ridiculous before for picking a quarry as his soulmate, he was really hating it now. Not only was his soulmate a quarry, but it was a smartass slave trader with the most aggravating of smirks. Maker, he was looking forward to shoving you into the carbonite freezer. Din grabbed the binders off the counter and connected it to both your wrists behind your back. He ripped you up and out of your seat then without a beat he began to shove you out of the cantina.

You begun to kick your feet, slowing your pace, and Din grabbed you by your upper arm so he could drag you along as needed. Din turned his head to look at you in skepticism. Yesterday, you had been quick to plan an escape route, but now you were going willingly? He didn’t trust it.

“Tell me, why would you go to a second cantina knowing I’m chasing you?” Din blurted.

“You want me to just reveal my grand master plan? I think not.” You chuckled. “You can just keep on wondering, bucket head.”

“It’s… reckless.” Din wanted to use the word ‘stupid’, but he couldn’t force it out.

You shrugged best you could with his hand wrapped tightly around your arm. “I’m reckless. What’s your point?” He shouldn’t have even asked. Din shook his head and mumbled curses under his breath. He was able to get you a few more streets over before you cried out in pain and hunched over. “Ow, ow. Wait⏤ Hang on.”

Din’s feet skidded to a stop. “What?”

“My leg. I just⏤ Let me lean for a second, okay?” You grunted and limped over with him in tow to lean against a hand railing. Din looked for any obvious injuries. “You’ve been dragging me down the road, you ass.”

Guilt rolled through him like a crashing wave no matter how much he tried to hold it back. His fingers loosened around your upper arm. Half a sigh left his lips a fist suddenly slammed up into his side right under his diaphragm making his breath stutter. Din spun, but you had already hooked one end of the binders around his wrist and the other to the metal bar you had been leaned against. He went to grab you, but you threw yourself over the bar and away from him. His hand shot to his blaster, but Din found it in your hand.

“How…” He breathed and glanced down at his situation.

Din reached for the keys on his belt, but while one of your hands held him at blaster point the other held up the keys. He blinked in shock. Din would never admit it aloud, he could barely admit it to himself, but he was mildly impressed. In fact, he’d be very impressed if his anger wasn’t overshadowing everything else.

“I’m a pickpocket. Should’ve warned you.” You shrugged. “Listen, how about we end our working relationship here.” Din huffed and tried to pull his arm free from the metal bar uselessly. “I’ve hit all the cantinas I need to in this city so I’m gonna be on my way, and I’m gonna leave you here. Let’s just agree to part ways as bitter friends.”

Din gnashed his teeth. “Release me. Now.”

“Yikes.” You made a clicking noise with your mouth. “You’re not exactly in the position to be making demands, bucket head.” You threw the key over your shoulder and then tossed the blaster as well⏤ so both would be out of reach from him. “It was so nice to meet you, by the way. Would love to never meet up again.”

You winked at him and he glared at you the entire time you sprinted away. Din turned to the pram to see Grogu had already opened the hatch and was staring at him. Din tugged on the binders once more, fruitlessly, then motioned to them. Grogu hopped out of his pram with a mischievous giggle and Din let his head fall against the metal bar with a ‘clang’.

The Mandalorian was pestering. You had a bad feeling he wouldn’t just give up. In fact, arguably, he could come after you with a vengeance after you hooked him to a metal bar. He’d get out free, but you hoped you could get a few worlds away before he did. You had a feeling no matter who he asked on the street to grab the key and blaster they’d steer around him without making eye contact. The faults of being an intimidating Mandalorian, you supposed.

You were on your way back to the local tarmac in hopes that you could bum a ride off someone. As you walked, you had pulled out your list to scratch names off. Technically, there were a few other places you needed to check, other cities, but it’d be a little awkward for you to sit in your third cantina of this world and have the Mandalorian walk in again. Maybe for now you’d put off the rest of Bespin and come back later.

“Lookie, lookie.” A whiny voice sang in a tone that made you wince. A slimy looking human stepped into your path from around the corner. A group of four other unfamiliar men stepped out behind him. He whistled. “The Mandalorian’s friend is all alone.”

You narrowed your eyes in disbelief. “Friend? Excuse me?”

“Don’t play coy.” He snapped. “We saw you with him.”

“Yeah, alright, and what part of seeing us together made you think we’re friends?” You scoffed. “Was it the part where I broke a bar stool over his head or when he put me in a pair of binders?”

The men behind the first began to mumble skeptically, but the first refused to cave, “No, no. I’m telling you the two of them are⏤ look! Look, here he comes to save her already!” You stiffened in shock and whirled around to see the silver Mandalorian stalking toward you from down the road. How in the hell had he gotten out that quickly? “What did I tell you, boys?”

You scanned the area. To your right were the backs of buildings and the closest alley was further down, beyond the men blocking you. To your left was literally nothing. A protective guard rail and a view of the clouds. So that was out. And now you had a fucking bounty hunter stalking you from behind. Great.

“How about this,” You hissed, “Let me pass then you can beat up on the tin can, yeah?”

“Boss, I don’t think she’s⏤”

“Fine, fine, whatever.” The man snapped. “Get the kriff out of our way.” You gave the Mandalorian, who had paused, a brief salute and hurried past the men who left a space for you. You got a few steps away when you heard the man speak once more. “Don’t forget, I want that beskar. As for the kid, we can just sell it.”

You came to a screeching stop. A chill ran up your spine. A kid? You turned around to see the men slowly approaching the Mandalorian who continued to stand his ground. The pram behind him now rested right beside him and the hatch was open to reveal a small, green creature with large ears and wide, innocent eyes. A kid. Fuck.

The men had completely forgotten about you to focus on the Mandalorian so not a single one of them noticed when you began to approach them once more. In a swift, practiced motion, you drew your dagger and threw it with a precision that came from years of ingrained muscle memory. The blade buried itself into the back of the closest man, and his scream of agony made his friends pause and whirl back around. The Mandalorian took this as his opportunity to strike.

You lunged forward to get your blade back while hiding behind the man’s body best you could to avoid being hit by stray blaster fire. He spun, startling you, and began to swing out to try and make contact. You ducked under his arms to avoid a blow but that put you further into the fray. You didn’t notice the attack coming from your side until an elbow slammed into your face. You heard a crunch, felt the warm blood spray down your face, and with a groan, you hit the ground dazed. One on one you did fairly well in a fight, but more than that and you struggled. You rolled over and glanced up to see even more people showed up to the fight⏤ all friends of the ones you were fighting. They came up from behind the Mandalorian.

Once you were on the ground, it seemed like nobody cared about your presence at all. They swarmed the bounty hunter in a mass. You knew beskar was rare, but this seemed like overkill. A young cry filled the air and you spotted one of the men rushing toward you with a squirming bundle in his arms. The roar of anger that left the Mandalorian was ground shaking, words in a language you didn’t recognize ringing loudly, and it was followed by a wave of fire from his vambrace as he took on every single adversary that came at him.

You jumped up as the guy with the kid rushed by, and on instinct you ran after. Your face throbbed with pain, but you didn't let it hinder your speed. Luck was on your side and the man ended up cornering himself by staying too close to the railing. When he tried to turn down a different road you were able to cut him off and back him up against the guard rail once more.

He reached for the blaster at his hip, but you were faster. You drew the weapon from under your jacket and aimed it at his head. “Don’t.”

“What?” The man narrowed his eyes. “What the kriff is that?”

“Firearm.” You replied. “Nice, isn’t it?” He shifted and you tilted your head. “The slug in this weapon isn’t meant for you. Set the kid down, and I’ll let you walk away.”

The child in his arms squirmed enough to be able to look at you and even from this distance you still couldn’t tell what species it was. But, you could see the kid was young⏤ a toddler at best. You stayed firm in your stance, and the man was nervously shifting as if trying to gauge how serious you were. As if to prove your point further, you pulled back on the revolver’s hammer so the slug clicked into place.

Slowly, the man held the kid away from his chest in surrender but he stopped suddenly, “How do I know you won’t shoot me the second I hand the kid over?”

“I told you,” You said, “This slug has someone else’s name on it.”

“What about the Mandalorian?” He cried. “He’ll kill me.”

“Probably.” You shrugged. “But I figure, you set the kid down and you’ll have time to run at the very least. You hurt the kid, and that block of angry beskar is going to stomp your teeth down your throat.” You gave him a mocking grin. “So, make your choice and make it quick.”

Blaster fire came much too close and you had to duck to avoid being hit by a stray bolt. The Mandalorian was barreling in your direction while the last few fighters fired after him. He barked something and you turned back to see the man holding the kid had been hit. He slumped to the side, hitting the guard rail, and with a surprised chirp the kid went right over the side of the city.

You dropped the firearm and leapt over the edge right after him.

It was perhaps one of your least thought out plans, but the moment your hands grasped the kid you spun in the air and used all the momentum you had to throw him right back over the rail. The few broken bones or concussion he might get from being thrown so violently was better than the fate you were about to meet. Loud wind whipped past you as you fell. This is not how you thought you’d be leaving the world of the living and despite your entire body being filled to the brim with terror and fear as you hurtled through the air there was still just enough room for regret to take root.

Not regret at leaping over the edge for a kid you didn’t know.

Regret that you never got to see the life leave Viktor’s greedy eyes.

Nothing could have surprised you more than a solid force tackling you from behind. The air left your lungs while firm arms wrapped around you and the trajectory of your fall changed as you were suddenly being rocketed up. Glancing over your shoulder best you could, you spotted a chest of silver beskar. Before you could comprehend what was happening your feet touched down on solid ground. The hands wrapped around you dropped and you found yourself falling to your hands and knees⏤ still shaky from falling a few hundred feet.

“Patu.” A chirp followed by excited babbling made you lift your head to see the child standing right in front of you. He reached out and gave your face a little pat. He looked entirely unharmed. The situation was starting to become clear once more and you saw your firearm lying on the ground out of your peripherals.

You lunged for the weapon, but a heavy boot dropped down to rest on it⏤ pining it to the ground. Sheepishly, you peered up to see the Mandalorian staring down at you with his hands on his hips. You pressed your lips together and then scrunched your nose out of habit only to wince in pain from the movement. You cleared your throat. “We, uh, need to stop meeting like this.”

“Get up.” He said tensely. You sighed and pushed to stand, dusting off your pants, and tried to puzzle out if you could make a clean getaway by breaking into a sprint now. The Mandalorian stepped forward, lifting a hand to your face and you flinched back. “Stop. Stay still.”

The bounty hunter’s hands cupped your face in an almost tender way. Your eyes widened in confusion both at his actions and the flickering flame of warmth that sparked in your belly at being this close to a man who was hunting you. His hands shifted, thumbs tracing your cheekbones, and then he used both thumbs to snap your nose into place. You let out a howl of pain and shoved him back, “What the⏤” You lifted to touch your nose and realized it wasn’t nearly as tender anymore. “What the hell, man!?”

“Your nose was broken.” He replied.

“Yeah? Well, warn a girl!” You scoffed.

The Mandalorian tilted his head. “Would you have let me fix it if I warned you?” No. Of course not. You mocked him under your breath by mumbling his words. He nodded. “Thank you.”

“Hmm?”

“Thank you. For saving my son.”

You glanced back at the small child standing by your boot now. He gave your leg a little pat before waddling over to this father. The Mandalorian picked him up and you wondered if the man under the armor was just as green as the kid. How did he fit ears like that under his helmet?

You pointed down to his boot, “That’s mine. Giving it back to me and letting me walk away would be a real cool thank you gift.” The metal pram from earlier drifted toward the two of you and when it came to a stop the boy jumped from the armored arms holding him into the floating crib. You were surprised to see the man move his boot out of the way and bend over to pick up your weapon. The Mandalorian held it out to you and your lips twitched up in excitement. “Glad to see we could settle this, bucket head.”

The second your hand grabbed the firearm you realized he wasn’t letting it go, but before you could tug or even speak his other hand shot up and clicked one binder around your wrist. You gasped, “You dick.” You could’ve sworn a chuckle left the helmet’s modulator. He tucked the firearm into his belt and then clicked the other half of the binder to his own wrist. “Is this because I called you bucket head?”

“That didn’t help.”

“So, I save your kid, and you still arrest me?”

“Yes.” He nodded and leaned into your space to pull the blade from the sheath around your thigh. He tucked that into his belt as well and took a few steps away. You dug your heels in. “Walk.”

“What about⏤”

“Walk.”

You grumbled in annoyance and picked up your feet. He seemed nonplussed with having to drag you down the road and it looked like his end goal was the tarmac where you had initially planned to be. The pram lingered beside you and the green child was babbling excitedly as if the two of you were having a full blown conversation. You kept glancing at him out of the corner of your eye.

“Your kid talks a lot.” You said, tugging on the arm connected to him⏤ not that it seemed to bother him.

“So do you.” He hit back.

“That’s…fair.” You admitted. “Where are you taking the savior of your child?”

“I could’ve saved him without you.”

You scoffed, “Yeah, well, if I knew you had a kriffing jackpack I would’ve let you.” The Mandalorian came to a sudden stop and it jerked on your arm. “Bucket head, come on! Seriously?”

“You didn’t know I had a jetpack?”

You narrowed your eyes at him trying to figure out the catch behind this obvious trick question. You shook your head. “Why would I know that?”

“When we met, I saw you watching me.” He replied. “You were checking me for all my weapons.”

You winked, “Maybe I was just checking you out.”

“Stop.” The Mandalorian said firmly and started walking again. The two of you got a few more feet before he spoke up once more. “If you didn’t know I had a jetpack, why would you jump over the edge?”

“Did you miss the part where your kid went flying over first?”

“You’d be willing to die for a stranger?”

You shrugged. “He’s a kid.” The Mandalorian stopped again and turned to stare at you. Your eyebrows furrowed in mild annoyance. Why was this conversation still happening? Maker, at this point you were hoping to be thrown in a carbonite freezer just to avoid his heavy gaze and questions. “Can you finish arresting me please?”

After a beat, the Mandalorian began to walk and you took that as a victory. You’d take what you could get today.

Watching that bastard grab Grogu and run away while he was left trapped in a mob of smugglers was the most rage Din had felt in quite a long time. He had been ruthless in cutting down the men that swarmed him, and he would’ve killed every last one in that moment if he had the time. As soon as he had a window, Din was sprinting after the man who had taken his son.

Din hadn’t even realized you were still around until he saw you holding the man at the end of your weapon. The blaster bolts that fired around him missed you by an inch, but it hit the man right in the side and all of Din’s rage turned to fear when he watched Grogu get thrown over the edge. Even knowing he’d be able to fly after him⏤ it didn’t stop his stomach from turning to lead. Then fear morphed into absolute confusion when he watched you drop your weapon and literally leap over the railing. You disappeared out of sight and seconds later Grogu came flying over the railing back to safety. Din lunged forward to catch the kid before he hit the ground.

“Gev!” Din set Grogu on the ground, pointing at the boy to make it known he was serious, and then Din dove over the edge.

He didn’t understand, couldn’t fathom, what was going through your head. What kind of quarry would stop mid-escape to risk their life in the way you had? You had been in the clear. The smuggler’s let you pass and instead of disappearing when the opportunity presented itself, you came back and stabbed one of them. Din hated to admit it, but he had also been very aware that you stayed in the fight and he had a visceral reaction to watching you get elbowed in the face hard enough to collapse.

It was how the smugglers got the opportunity to grab Grogu.

Like a kriffing idiot, he had gotten distracted and nearly lost his son because of it.

‘He’s a kid.’ Your voice echoed through his head the entire walk to the tarmac. Initially, Din had been confused why you’d trust him to actually catch you. Did you actually know who he was? Your soulmate? And you assumed he’d have to catch you? But, when you admitted that you had no idea he even had a jetpack, Din felt floored. You hadn’t jumped over the edge trusting he’d catch you. You jumped over the edge thinking it was going to be the last thing you ever did, and you did it to save a stranger. No, a kid. That’s what you said. The look on your face, the tone of your voice, it was natural instinct for you. The obvious choice.

You hadn’t given sacrificing your life for a child a second thought.

Din hadn’t decided yet if that made you honorable or insane.

A thought drifted through him before he could stop it. It was an action taken right out of a Mandalorian’s playbook. He forced it out of his head. You were not a Mandalorian. You were a quarry wanted for slave trading. A quarry. His soulmate quarry. Dank farrik. Din lowered the ramp of the Razor Crest and led you on.

“Can I use the fresher before you shove me in carbonite?” Din did a double take at your words⏤ a common occurrence with you he was learning. You seemed to be entirely serious with your request though. You shrugged nonchalantly. “Being frozen with a full bladder is miserable.”

“You’ve been in carbonite before?”

You paused then pointed to your face with a tight lipped smile. “Bounty.”

“I’m not putting you in carbonite.” Din replied. He ignored the confusion drawn on your features and closed the ramp. Din then unlatched the binders and pointed down the very short hall. When Peli had rebuilt the Crest for him he had it modified for just a bit more space, but the fresher was nearly laid out in the same position. “Fresher’s that way. There’s no weapons in there.”

Din wanted to get the ship up in the air right now, but he didn’t trust you not to make a break for it. He got Grogu settled with a ration bar and then he perched himself on the edge of a supply crate facing toward the fresher. While waiting, Din pulled your weapon out from his belt and admired the metal work. A slugthrower. Impressive. He hadn’t seen one in a hot minute, and this one was built by someone who knew what they were doing. The dark metal was carved with swirls and designs of gold. The handle carved in wood and ivory. Though he hadn’t seen one in ages, Din was familiar with firearms. He popped out the ornate cylinder and raised an eyebrow at the single slug loaded in. All other five slots were empty.

The other weapon you carried was a simple metal dagger. Not as rare, but vibroblades were more popular.

The mystery of who you were seemed to grow with every second he was stuck with you.

Din set the firearm down by his thigh and unintentionally his hand drifted up to rest over his left ribcage where your words stained his skin. ‘Would you really arrest your soulmate?’ All those years he thought those words, rolled them around in his head, there was a sharp difference. Now, he heard the words in your voice rather than his own. Even once he rid himself of you, that would linger.

He heard you shifting in the fresher and drew his own blaster to rest on his thigh⏤ pointed toward where you’d be, but with the trigger finger resting on the side of the weapon. He didn’t think he’d need to use it, but if Din had learned one thing about you thus far it was that you were unpredictable.

The fresher doors slid open and you stepped out. When your eyes landed on him, you let out a huff and lifted your hands in surrender. “You did a lot of work to just shoot me now.” Din motioned to the ladder leading up into the cockpit with his blaster. “You… want me to climb?” He pushed off the crate and gave a single nod. “Yeah, alright, sure.” You sighed and walked to the ladder. You paused to glance over your shoulder to Grogu who was still scarfing down his ration bar. “Your dad is kind of a dick. Anybody tell you that before?”

“Buir!” Grogu laughed and followed it with babbling.

“I’m taking that as a yes.” You mumbled to yourself and began to climb. Din followed. He wanted answers from you as much as he wanted to get off this world. At the top of the ladder, Din passed you and ushered you into the cockpit. He pointed to the passenger seat and didn’t miss how you rolled your eyes before dropping down. Din took his own seat, but spun the pilot’s chair around to face you first. He pulled the binders from his belt.

“Hands.” He ordered.

“Oh, good.” You smirked and offered him your wrists. “I was starting to miss these things.”

Din clamped them in place then turned back to begin lift off. It wasn’t until hyperspace that he turned back around, and Din was startled to see your eyes had been drooping closed. At his movement, they snapped open once more and your posture stiffened. He took the moment to really soak you in. Specifically, he let his eyes trace the golden band around your neck⏤ the lights of hyperspace reflected off the material same as it did his own beskar. At first glance, he’d label it a gaudy accessory that didn’t match the worn down nature of the rest of your outfit. However, even from here Din could see the faint scars that half hid under the gold.

It wasn’t a necklace. It was a collar.

“What now, bucket head?”

“Now, you tell me why someone who is clever enough to escape multiple bounty hunters is reckless enough to visit another cantina right after running into me.”

You shrugged. “Maybe you’re not as intimidating as you think you are.”

Din leaned back in his seat, arms crossed, “All the other hunters find you in bars as well. Why’s a slave trader visiting every cantina in the galaxy?”

He really doubted the backstory the bounty puck was giving him now, seeing the metal that adorned your neck, but Din wanted to see your reaction. There was a brief flash of anger across your face, gone as quick as it came, and Din could tell you were biting the inside of your cheek to refrain from saying whatever words were spinning around in your head right now. Finally, you smirked, “I’m on the search for the galaxy’s best cocktail.” You leaned forward. “You wouldn’t believe what world is in the lead, Mandalorian.”

Din wasn’t sure what was more ironic⏤ that fate lumped him together with a quarry or that fate picked a person who never knew when to shut up. He shook his head, “You asked me earlier what it would take to get me off your back.” Your eyes marginally widened. “Do you still want to know?”

“Name it.” You answered.

“I want answers.” He stressed and watched as your jaw locked in irritation again. “What are you searching the galaxy for?”

For a long moment, you just stared at him. Din could see you analyzing him. It was that simple action, and the way he saw you sizing him up when you first met, that told him you weren’t just some mouthy, arrogant idiot. You were clever. It was probably how you escaped so many bounty hunters in the past.

You shrugged, “Revenge.”

The answer didn’t necessarily startle him. It was only revenge, love, and greed that could have someone dedicate so much time to their end goal. Piecing together the parts of the puzzle he had gave him a blurry image. Din nodded, “Whoever you’re going after, do they deserve it?”

“Yes.” You replied without even a pause. “They do.”

You didn’t fully understand the line of questioning being thrown your way, but considering the options it wasn’t the worst scenario you found yourself in. The Mandalorian had turned back around without another word after asking you his last question and it now left you sitting in your seat exhausted and confused. More than anything you craved sleep. After your last 24 hours that wasn’t surprising. What did surprise you was how easily you were dozing off while being in this too small cockpit with the Mandalorian bounty hunter. It was like your stupid body didn’t perceive him as a current threat.

Maybe he wasn’t. He said he wasn’t going to throw you in the carbonite freezer, and from what you knew about Mandalorians they were the type who held honor above nearly everything else. You had given your freedom to save his kid and you prayed he didn’t take that action lightly.

“I have another question.” The Mandalorian spoke without turning.

“Alright, but if you get another one then I’m allowed one now too.” You argued.

You just barely saw the tilt of his helmet in agreement. A part of you hoped he was done questioning you about your goals in life. It wasn’t a topic you wanted to explore any further with this stranger. But, the Mandalorian caught you off guard by veering far away from his previous questions.

“What you said when we met…” He hummed, “What did you mean by that?”

“The soulmate thing?” You snorted. “Yeah, hilarious, isn’t it? You spooked me for a second with how quiet you got after I said it, but now I know silence is just your go-to intimidation tactic, bucket head.” From where you sat you could see him stiffen and assumed it was from your chosen nickname for him. “Does your kind even have soulmates? Do I need to explain⏤”

“My kind?” He finally glanced over at you.

“Yeah. Whatever you are.”

“I’m human.”

You rolled your eyes. “Okay, you’re not allowed to sound so surprised that I didn’t know. You’re covered from head to toe in metal, and I just assumed you were the same kind as your kid.”

“Grogu was…adopted.” He replied.

Huh. Grogu. That was the kid’s name. Well, that was one of two that you got. You leaned forward, resting your elbows on your knees after he turned back around to scan a map on the control panel. “So? What do I call you then? What’s your name?”

“Mando. You can call me Mando.”

“Mando as in Mandalorian?” You laughed. “Maker, even ‘bucket head’ is more imaginative than that. You seriously go by that?” Mando didn’t reply and you snickered some more under your breath before leaning back. “I’ll consider it, bucket head.”

You could hear him mumble a string of words that you were going to assume was his native language. You'd also assume he was cursing. That's usually the response you got. The cockpit was filled with the comfortable silence of hyperspace and despite being seated on a metal chair, you began to doze off again. It was getting harder and harder to keep your heavy lids open, and faintly you thought you heard the Mandalorian speak once more before you lost the battle against unconsciousness.

“Sleep, mirdala runi. You’re safe.”

mando'a translations:

gev: stop (stay) /// buir: Parent (father) /// mirdala runi: Clever soul

taglist: @onceinamando @hrtsforpascal @lil-dragon-draws @harriedandharassed @aheadfullofsteverogers @elfamosotoga @the-anchored-sailor-girl @garbo-lesbo @moonlqghts @stokeholdsblogdsblog @morks-watermelon @http-onie

#the mandalorian #din djarin #din djarin x you #din djarin x reader #mando #mando x reader #mando x you #mandalorian x you #mandalorian fanfic #mandalorian x reader #female reader #reader insert

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band--psycho · 2 years ago

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Negan x Fem!Reader- Mr Protective

So I'm trying to get some of my dialogue prompt stories written - this one is with dialogue prompt 145!

I hope you all enjoy this! 💛

Warnings-Gun, gun violence, Negan being negan

“We’ll if it isn’t my favourite wife”

Wife.

The words cut through me like a knife.

I wasn’t his wife. And he certainly wasn’t my husband. The only reason we’re ‘married’ was because my father bargained me in trade for his own safety.

My fathers now chained to the fence outside the front of the Sanctuary now, as a walker.

Though that’s not why I wanted to kill Negan.

No.

The community we were with were meant to remain safe; that was my only condition for marrying Negan, and he agreed, reluctantly so yes, but he agreed.

Yesterday, whilst Negan was away, I overheard a handful of Saviors discussing my old community, talking about how they’d killed the entire community on Negans order.

Which is why, instead of greeting Negan with words; I simply raised my gun and aimed it at his head.

“Y/n? What are you doing?” Negan asked, I could see the confusion flicker in his eyes before that signature cocky smile grew on his face.

It was as though this was all some type of game to him. .

“What does it look like I’m doing?” I snapped back; watching as the Saviors surrounding us pointed their guns at me.

Dying.

It should have scared me; anytime before this it would have.

But now as I stood here, there wasn’t a flicker of fear inside me.

“It looks to me like you’re pointing a damn gun at these good people,” laughter laced his face as he pointed Lucille at me before motioning to the crowd of people around us.

Was he threatening me?

Was this another thing that was meant to scare me? To intimidate me into going back to being a well behaved ‘wife’?

I shook my head, keeping my hand steady, “The only person I’m pointing a gun at is you.”

“Sir?” Simon questioned; his eyes locked on me.

“Don’t,” Negan answered back; turning to look at Simon before meeting my eyes again. The harshness in his voice caught me off guard.

I was one of his wives, he had five others, I wasn’t important, I was replaceable and yet here he was preventing his men from shooting me, knowing full well I could pull the trigger before anyone could have shot me.

The lightheartedness soon returned to Negans voice as he stepped closer to me,“It’s fine, Y/n here just has her big girl panties in a twist.”

His words made a chorus of low chuckle escape from the lips of people around us.

“Gimme the gun, sweetheart,”

It was an order. He was ordering me to give him the gun. And when I didn’t I swear I saw a hint of pride in his eyes as he pressed his forehead against the barrel of my gun.

“You really gonna shoot me, baby girl?” His voice was quieter now; but still loud enough still so that everyone could hear him; his eyes once again met mine as if he was trying to read my mind, trying to guess my next move.

“Yes,” I answered coldly with my finger on the trigger.

I could shoot him now and it would be over, all of it would be over.

So why hadn’t I shot him yet?

Why was he still standing in front of me?

“Y/n-” he didn’t get to finish his sentence before a gun shot was fired.

For a brief second, I thought it was my gun, I thought I’d finally pulled the trigger. But Negans face remained intact.Though his eyes filled with some foreign emotion I’d never seen before but I knew that look from other people's eyes.

He was worried.

I couldn't understand why.

That was until I felt a burning sensation in my side; a sensation that only grew.

There was so much blood, it didn’t take long before it covered my entire hand.

I never believed it when people said that in the last moments of their life, they saw their life flash before their eyes. I still didn’t. Because when the pain from the shot became unbearable and I fell to my knees, I didn’t see my life flash before my eyes.

I saw Negan, taking the gun from my hand.

I thought he was going to shoot me….I think part of me hoped that he would.

But he didn’t.

He was aiming behind me.

He was angry; I could tell that much by the redness of his face and rage in his eyes. He was saying something, I couldn’t make out what, everything I was hearing sounded distant.

Everything except another gunshot which seemed to echo around me.

Darkness was slowly encapsulating my vision; I could no longer see the Saviors around me.

That was until Negan knelt down in front of me; and wrapped his arms around me, his mouth was moving but I had no idea what he was saying.

His face was the last face I saw before the darkness finally consumed my vision.

Tagging:

@xacatalepsyx @impala1967dwinchester @thaliastregona @little-diable @book-dragon03 @munsinner @mrsnegan @jdmsgal @howlingmadlady @https-lorna @wheelerdixon @dilfsandtherapy @bestbitchsstuff @cherryheartssblog @darkdevasofdestruction @fangirlsfandomsss

#negan x reader #negan imagines #negan imagine #the walking dead x reader #negan twd #twd negan #the walking dead negan #the walking dead imagines #the walking dead imaigne

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peppermint-toads · 3 years ago

Text

𝚜𝚢𝚍'𝚜 𝚓𝚎𝚊𝚗𝚜

𝚜𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢 it's been eating at you all day, but how will you tell carmy you're pregnant 𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚎𝚜 first time writing carmen, enjoy chefs 𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 pregnant reader, reader borrows syd's jeans, friends with benefits relationship with carmy, cursing, carmy being a bastard, 2.1k

You started your morning hunched over the toilet bowl that nobody cleaned last night. You groaned as saliva slid down your chin, the sound echoing off the porcelain.

“Rough night?” Tina smirked as she passed the staff bathroom. You’d left the door wide open, having had no time to shut or lock it considering the urgency of your situation. You flipped her off and peered out past the doorway to make sure she didn’t see you.

She wasn’t far off. You couldn’t sleep, constantly overcome with fatigue and soreness and sickness. You didn’t have the balls to just call out, tell Carmen you had a cold or something.

So you dragged yourself into work, under eyes dark and puffy, back and neck pulsing and aching.

The morning was somewhat calm until Richie started hounding you about some bullshit nobody, not even Carmen, cared about.

“Alright, Richie, can you shut the goddamn fuck up and let me do my job?” You finally broke, yelling and slamming your rag, or towel, down on the steel counter. Carmen had so graciously informed you yesterday there are no rags in a restaurant. Smug fucking bastard.

Richie held his hands up in defense. “Jesus. Struck a fucking nerve, huh? Sorry, princess.” He blew a puff of air out in frustration before storming into the kitchen and away from the counter. His shoulder knocked into Carmy’s as they passed in opposite directions.

“Woah, what’s your problem, Cousin?”

“Don’t ask me, ask that- that witch in there!” He stabbed his pointer finger in your direction. Your palms were pressed into the counter, shoulder blades pinched tight and head drooped low between them.

“Everything okay?”

Carmen asked softly. You couldn’t be bothered to lift your head enough to see him, instead staring at the end of his blue apron and his worn shoes. He was being too–too tender.

“Mind your own, Carmen, honestly.” You mumbled.

“Sorry, did I miss something? Is it something I said or—or did?”

His tone wasn’t genuine anymore, it was annoyed, irritated and hurriedly waiting for you to spit out an answer.

“Piss off, alright?”

“Restock the cups.”

Your tits were heavy and tender and you were exhausted, almost falling asleep slumped over in a booth between lunch and dinner service. Ebraheim had to come shake you back to consciousness, alerting you that dinner started in an hour with a pitying smile.

You poured yourself a cup of coffee, reserving yourself to a corner behind the register, sipping the coffee in solus. You stared blankly into the dining area, eyes focusing on a crumpled up straw paper next to a scuffed chair leg.

Carmen's words replayed over and over in your head. “You have to operate at a higher level. Push yourself until you think you’ll break and then push some more.”

The straw paper would’ve sent him over the edge, made his eye twitch and raise his blood pressure. You grinned at it.

Your grip on the thin, ceramic mug grew tighter the longer you stared. You stared and stared, eyes stinging from the stale air settling over them.

The dull snapping of the mug handle and sting of scalding coffee soaking through your pants pulled you from your haze.

“Mother fuck! Fuck, Syd, do you have-” You called, but you didn’t have to finish your question, she was turning on her heel towards her locker after murmuring a short “got it.”

Richie was on you in a second with towels, patting down your legs and scolding you like a child as you stood there uselessly.

Carmen followed suit, berating you as if you’d meant to spill it down your legs and all over the floor in a pathetic puddle.

“Just go get a mop.” He ordered, trading places with Richie as he squatted in front of you.

He glanced up at you blotting the stained towel against your shins, blue eyes swimming with annoyance, desperation, it didn’t matter. “What the hell is up with you today?”

It wasn’t his fault, he couldn’t have known. But you couldn’t help the fat lump that formed in your throat, preventing any words from making it past your lips. Luckily, you were able to will the tears burning in your eyes away, back into the depths of your stomach.

“I need you, okay? This service has to go smooth, alright? We can’t lose out tonight.”

Dinner service was a disaster. It was like the register layout had magically reworked itself overnight. You weren’t ringing in orders fast enough, or correctly for that matter.

Syd was in your face, ranting about something you’d done wrong, or something you needed to do better, probably. You just nodded, hoping to appease her enough that she’d walk away and leave you alone for the rest of the night.

“Yeah,” you smiled weakly. “On it, Syd.”

Seemingly satisfied, she headed back to the kitchen.

The rest of service was a blur. Richie took pity on you and allowed you to putter around mostly, wiping down various surfaces and restocking straws and napkins every so often while he took the bulk of the workload.

All the customers had finally dwindled out, and you were left by yourself in the front, leaning your elbow on the counter with your face smushed into your palm. You watched the shitty, neon sign flicker above the deli counter.

“You gotta tell him.” Richie said as he pressed his lips into a thin line.

You stood up straight in front of him with your jaw slacked a bit.

“How’d you…” You trailed off, searching his expression for any hint.

“Tiff was the same way. Tired and bitchy.” He huffed a laugh as he seemed to recall distantly, smiling to himself as he thought about it more.

“But how’d you know about me and Carmen?” You asked in a hushed tone, even though there was nobody around to hear because it was supposed to be your own little secret. Something you could keep just for yourself.

He shrugged. “Carmy was my best friend. Just know, I guess.”

He gave you one last sort of sad smile before walking off.

Everybody said their goodnights as they shoved through the alley door and into the cold air, all of them splitting off in different directions as they headed home, besides Carmy. He always stayed late, stressing about whatever it was he decided he needed to be stressed about that day.

Your stomach lurched as you thought about what you had to do. There was no way to avoid it.

“Carmy?” You rapped two fingers on the metal doorframe of his office. Your voice was already far too wobbly for your own liking.

“What are you still doing here?”

“Staying late? To make up for the mug?” You tried to laugh, but it was more to lighten his spirits than your own.

“No you did me a favor breaking that one,” he smiled, and you relaxed a little bit knowing he was clearly over it.

“Carm I—I’ve gotta tell you something.” You looked down at your hands, picking underneath your nails, and he nodded, insisting you to let it out.

“I’m, uh, pregnant.”

His response wasn’t angry, or heightened in any way like you expected. It was just practical.

“I thought you were on birth control.”

“I—fuck—I am. I don’t know how it-”

You choked, dropping your head into your palms.

“I don’t know how it happened.” You sniffed, trying desperately to recompose yourself. Like it wasn’t a big deal, like this information hadn’t been eating at you all day, killing you for the past three days.

“How long?” He looked up at you with those stupid, stupid eyes.

“Doctor said about seven weeks. I took a, uhm, test at home and I didn’t believe it, so I made an appointment and-” You just nodded your head yes, unable to bring yourself to say it aloud again.

You were melting down. You choked back a sob, wiping your nose and cheek with the back of your hand. “I hurt all over, Carm. I’m sore and in pain all the time. And I—I don’t know what to do.”

“Okay, okay,” he stood slowly. “I don't know either. But we don’t have to decide tonight.”

We.

He stepped towards you carefully as if he was scared if he moved too fast you’d startle.

His arms opened up around you, and you let him pull you in close, allowing your head to sag on his shoulder as you cried.

He listened helplessly as you hiccuped, supporting as much of your weight as he could. Carmen could’ve lashed out, gotten angry and thrown shit like he tended to, but he knew in that moment you didn’t deserve it. And all of a sudden, your attitude, the mug and coffee spill, the fucked up orders and money didn’t matter anymore.

He let you cry for a couple minutes before insisting the two of you head home. He could really see now how absolutely exhausted you were, guilt settling in as he remembered how hard he was on you. He was almost embarrassed that he didn’t see it sooner, but sometimes he couldn’t help but become avoidant, treat and view you like an employee and nothing more.

He helped you shrug on your coat while you blinked the rest of your tears away, one arm after the other.

He flicked off the shitty neon sign and plucked up the crumpled straw paper that was still on the floor. His hand was solid and warm against your lower back as he led you out of the restaurant. The biting Chicago wind burned your cheeks and nose on the way to the el. He wouldn’t let you get off at your stop, silently pleading with you to stay with me tonight. And you were relieved he did, too prideful to admit you needed him.

You were uncomfortable standing in his kitchen, didn’t know what to say or what to do with your hands.

“I’m gonna–uhm, I need a shower.” You did, you still smelled like coffee and grease, and Carmen probably smelled the same.

He nodded. “Can I come?”

You weren’t expecting the question, but it wasn’t like he hadn’t seen you naked before. You’d been sleeping with Carmy for the better part of two years. You’d seen every single part of each other.

You nodded back.

He trailed behind you like he was walking on eggshells, like it wasn’t his own apartment you were in. He let you turn on the water and step in first, and he followed after setting out two towels on the counter.

He carefully stepped in after you, not bothering with any awkward shuffling or conversation, instead pulling you into his chest like he did in his office about an hour ago. You immediately let your eyes close.

“You were hurting all this time and didn’t tell me.”

It wasn’t really a question, more so Carmy coming to terms with it.

“Was only a couple of days.” You weren’t even upset about the pain anymore because the hot water running down your back and Carmen tracing his fingers up and down your spine melted it away.

Changing the subject, he reached for a bar of soap, lathering it in his hands before smoothing it over your shoulders. “Let’s get you to bed.”

He washed every inch of your skin almost like it was an apology. Just an apology, not daring to delve into the territory that begged a definition of what the two of you were to each other because to him it was obvious. He’d never leave your side again.

His shirt and boxers hugged you closely as you both climbed into his bed.

It wasn’t unfamiliar, the routine of pulling his duvet over you and settling onto his chest, letting your eyes close as you drifted off. For the first time that day, you felt like you were back on planet Earth.

“Y’gonna take me to all my appointments?” You asked sleepily, leaning your head back and letting the top of his head come into view.

“If that’s what you want.” His fingers trailed lightly up your bicep as his other hand subconsciously lay flat atop your stomach.

You felt him smile as he kissed the top of your head.

“And I’ll take him to his little league practices, give him his first coors light.”

You smacked his chest, letting out a breathless giggle. Carmen was happy to hear you laugh.

“But we can’t let him near Rich, though. Not until he’s at least fifteen.”

“Agreed,” He mumbled into your hair.

“But seriously, Carmen-”

He shushed you. “Tomorrow.”

#carmen berzatto angst #carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x female reader #carmen berzatto fanfiction

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spencerreidsconverse · 4 years ago

Text

Bets With a Vegas Boy

summary: When Spencer and Reader make a bet with high stakes, their stubborn sides show, but when a consulting officer has his eyes on reader, Spencer has to step in.

word count: 4.9k

warnings: SMUT (breeding kink, daddy kink, a bit of degradation, semipublic sex,) unrequited flirting, criminal minds style violence, suggested cannibalism, reader has multiple tattoos

Pairing: Spencer Reid/Female Reader

A/N: This took me forever to finish as I was on vacation! I hope you all enjoy it!

“Y/N, have you ever met Reid? You’re supposed to be smart, why would you willingly sign up for this?” You scoffed at JJ’s words. When Penelope Garcia is involved it seems that no news traveled slowly, proven by the entire BAU’s new knowledge of the bet you had made with boy genius after bickering about which of you was more clingy. “JJ, you really underestimate me that much?” She shook her head in disbelief “You know that’s not it, but come on Y/N! Seriously, he’s banned from every casino in Vegas! Why would you bet against that?” “JJ, he was banned because he can count cards. It’s not like we’re playing Black Jack for christ’s sake!” She weighed the idea for a moment and you could see the wheels turning in her head. “Okay that’s true, but still. He’s the most stubborn man I’ve ever met. I seriously hope whatever he has in mind for your forfeit isn’t as bad as yours.” You laughed, imaging Spencer in the predicament you were positive he would be in the thick of by the end of the week.

“I think he’d look good with one, you don’t agree?” JJ rolled her eyes as you both made your way out of the elevator towards the glass doors. “That’s not my point Y/N, don’t you think it’s a little harsh? I mean he’s not like you, how do you know he’d even want one?” You smirked, remembering the first time you’d met Dr. Spencer Reid. You had been brought on to the team a few short years ago after an implemented policy that required an even amount of field agents so there were partners for every investigation. You thought it was a bit condescending, requiring the most brilliant minds in the nation to follow the buddy system, but it gave you a job and for that you were thankful. It had its perks though, one of which being your immediate pairing with Reid. You were as young as him and not far behind in brilliance. What you lacked in eidetic memory and forgein language fluency, you more than made up for in marksmanship and street smarts. You and Reid got along fine, even if it was a bit tense at first. He was thoroughly convinced he didn’t need a babysitter.

“I’m a grown man! Why would I need to be watched every second of the day? The last thing we need is a liability.” you remembered the words like it was yesterday. You had been approaching him from behind, and overheard his rant. “Well, technically since we’re the same age, I’d hardly consider myself a babysitter. Would you trust your child’s care with someone their age?” Spencer had turned himself around so fast he’d almost fallen off the desk he was perched atop. “Y-you must be Agent Y/N! It’s uh nice to meet you?” He cringed at the tone of his voice, and you burst out with giggles before shaking your head. “Don’t worry Dr. Reid, I understand it must be a difficult situation for you. I mean, if I were the resident genius I wouldn’t take too kindly to the idea of being shown up either.” The dark-skinned woman who had previously been engaging him in his sour mood let out a surprised chuckle and you watched his face turn from embarrassment to shock and finally settle on disbelief. “Wh- Excuse me?” You felt your stomach begin to cramp as his reaction made you laugh further and you clutched your files against your chest. You fought to catch your breath for a few seconds before regaining your composure. “Excuse my reaction, Dr. Reid but I couldn’t resist. No hard feelings?” He nodded mutely and you saw a soft smile crack through his mock stern expression. You turned to introduce yourself to the woman next to him, Tara Lewis. You made small talk for a few more minutes while Reid scribbled away at his desk before Emily called all of you to the round table with a case.

Nerves had struck you then, and you stood frozen instead of joining Tara in her stride. “Y/N, everything okay?” You jumped slightly as you heard Reid’s voice from behind you. “Oh! Yes, sorry!” You moved out of his way, trying your best not to stumble over an empty desk and failing miserably. He stretched his hands out and caught you, much to your embarrassment. “Are you sure you’re okay? Are you feeling ill?” You shook your head quickly. “No! No, I'm fine, really.” He looked into your eyes and you tried to ignore the sparks you felt deep in your chest. “Y/N you’re working with profilers now, lying that poorly will never work around here.” His joke succeeded in its attempt to lighten the mood and you let out a soft laugh despite your anxiety. “I’m just a little nervous I guess. I didn’t expect to have a case so soon.” He nodded and his thumb absentmindedly rubbed soothing circles on your sleeve. “I understand. We all felt that way at first. I won’t say it’s easy, but we’re all here to support you. Take a few deep breaths.” You did as he instructed and you felt your nerves ease as he consoled you. “That’s better. Besides, what could you have to worry about? You have the best partner here.” You laughed, and he released your arm. “I’ll meet you in there.” and with that he left you standing there trying to lock down the feelings he had just arisen in you. “Nice Y/N, crush on your partner first thing. What a great start.” you muttered to yourself

A few moments later you joined the rest of the team at the table and quickly reviewed the case, before lifting off 45 minutes later to a small town in Georgia. Everything felt like a whirlwind and you did your best to keep up. True to what Spencer had said, the team helped you get your bearings and by the end of the night you were making great strides along with the rest of them. It was near midnight when Emily dismissed you all to the hotel a few blocks away to get a few hours of rest. You were thankful, having poorly attempted to drown your tiredness with watery coffee from the small pot at the station, and you made your way to the hotel as swiftly as you could manage. When you were all gathered in the lobby, Emily handed out the keycards and it quickly dawned on you how the room assignments would work. You tried to shake off the thought and prayed that the night would go quickly. It made sense to just put the partners together, it made keeping track of everyone easier and allowed for quick communication between the team. You told yourself all the reasons it was logical as you made your way up to your room.

Spencer left you to your thoughts, but he could see how hard you were focusing. He unlocked the door and the lights switched on as you both made your way towards your beds. You heard him ask you something, and turned awkwardly to face him “Sorry, what’d you say?” He looked at you, a mix of amusement and concern on his face. “I asked if you wanted to shower first. Are you okay?” “Oh! Yeah, thanks. I’m okay, just thinking about the case.” You hoped you had lied better this time and were relieved that he seemed to buy it. “Just try to shut your mind off of it for now, I know it’s hard. Trust me, you’ll feel much better when you’re refreshed.” You nodded at his words and pulled some pajamas out of your go-bag. “Thanks Spencer. I’ll try not to take too long.” He shrugged you off “No worries, take your time.” You shut yourself behind the door and tried to shake the feelings out of your head. “Get a grip Y/N. You’re being crazy.” You scolded yourself before showering. You hurried despite Spencer’s insistence and quickly made your way out of the shower to dry yourself off. You applied lotion to your ink-covered skin and slipped on your shorts and t-shirt before drying your hair as fast as you could and making your way out of the bathroom. You dropped your folded clothes on top of your bag, alerting Spencer that you were done.

“That was fast, you really didn’t have to-” his words died in his throat as he looked up from the file in his lap and caught sight of your legs, covered in the intricate artwork that stretched across the skin. You tried to ignore his watchful gaze. “It’s no problem! I wanted to save you some hot water.” He thanked you quietly and made his way to the bathroom hurriedly, trying not to look at you again. You tried to fall asleep but you couldn’t get him out of your head. A few more minutes passed and he made his way over to his bed, trying to will the awkward tension out of the room. You both eventually managed to fall asleep without speaking another word.

The tension continued to grow over the next few months and the rest of the team were getting sick of watching you two dance around each other. You both denied any advances, shot down the chance to go out on any of the numerous blind dates members of the team offered to set up, and chose instead to trade glances across the bullpen and divulge your personal lives over breakroom lunches. Eventually, they made plans for a team outing and convinced you both to attend. Penelope made reservations at a nice restaurant, announcing that everyone just had to try their food. That night however, you showed up to Spencer waiting awkwardly at a table for two in the back corner with a sour face. “Where’s the rest of the team?” You asked him, taking the seat across from him. “Apparently they’ve all had to cancel. Luckily, the reservation was for two.” His eyes narrowed in suspicion and you made a mental note to scold Garcia. “Well, since we’re here I’m happy to eat. I’m starving.” Spencer’s eyes lit up and he nodded eagerly, agreeing with you. After an evening of great food and better wine, the rest was history, and you found yourself thanking Garcia the next day instead. You and Spencer had been dating for just over two years now, though he’d be able to count it down to the second you’d showed up looking angelic at the restaurant that night. You both complimented each other perfectly and you had a relationship stronger than either of you could have dreamed of.

“Hello?? Y/N are you even listening to me?” JJ’s words and nudge against your shoulder brought you back to present day and you snapped your eyes back to her face. “Yes! Sorry JJ I was just thinking… Anyways, we’ve talked about it before. He loves all of mine, and he’s talked about getting one. He’s just afraid of the pain, and too indecisive to choose what he wants.” You blushed softly as you thought about the many nights spent in your shared bed, Spencer tracing the black lines with his fingertips. He adored them and thought they made you especially unique, not to mention he found them extremely sexy. He favored the black sun on your ribcage, shaded to perfection. Even when you were clothed he would run his hand along the fabric that covered the piece.

“Well still, if you do happen to win, I can’t imagine he’ll go along with it.” You smirked and shook your head. “We’ll see about that JJ.” You both sat at your desks, and began to work through your piles of paperwork. You were thankful there was no case that needed your immediate attention, but paperwork always made you feel like a nap by the time lunch came around. You pushed yourself away from your desk, and stood to find yourself nearly chest to chest with your boyfriend who had stood at the same time. “Oh, sorry Spence. I just need coffee.” You maneuvered your way around him, missing the way he would usually grab your hips to aid you. He followed you to the break room and you poured him a cup as well leaving plenty of room for sugar. Instead of handing it to him with a quick peck on the cheek however, you left it on the counter to be picked up. “You really think you can go a week without touching me?” You heard his voice from the doorway. “It’s already been 3 days.” You said uninterestedly with a shrug, and he eyed you suspiciously. “Okay fine, no. I just think I can go longer than you can.” You finally admitted, smirking back at him.

He grabbed the mug from the counter, adding several teaspoons of sugar before taking a sip. “We’ll see about that. You’re the one that’s always curling yourself around me.” You rolled your eyes playfully. “Oh yeah, like you hate it. You’re the one that’s always rubbing my back and holding my hand under tables. Even when we’re on the metro home you’ve got your hand in mine.” He narrowed his eyes at you and stuck his tongue out, making you chuckle. “Very mature Dr. Reid. I can’t wait to win.” He opened his mouth to argue but was interrupted by Luke who stuck his head in to alert you both of the new case you’d be working. You let out a long sigh. “So much for paperwork.” The three of you made your way to the round table and sat, Spencer curling his hand into a fist to keep himself from subconsciously reaching over to place his hand on your leg.

“So, we are assisting in a local case this time, with Washington state PD about a string of murders in the homeless community. However, there’s been hefty construction in their field office so they will be joining us here.” Penelope quickly took the lead after Emily’s announcement and filled you all in about the details. She ran through the few details the local PD managed to uncover on their own and the team had only managed a few minutes of brainstorming when a group of police officers made their way through the glass doors of the BAU. There were only a handful of officers which surprised all of you, and Emily led the rest of you out of the conference room, beelining her way to the chief. “Hello, Landon. It’s nice to see you again.” She shook his hand briefly. “Likewise Emily, though I wish it was under different circumstances.” “As do I. I’m sorry for the miscommunication, I was under the impression that your entire force would be joining us. Is that not the case?” The chief, Landon Bridges you now knew him as, shook his head. “We knew you had a pretty tight space and we have a lot of members. I brought a few people from each department and figured it’d be easiest to fill everyone else in periodically. We didn’t want to overflow your space and leave no room to work.” Emily nodded and rested her hand on his shoulder. “I appreciate the thought, thank you. This is the rest of my team. SSAs Jennifer Jareau, Luke Alves, Matt Simmons, David Rossi, Y/N Y/L/N, Drs Spencer Reid and Tara Lewis, and our technical analyst Penelope Garcia.” You all gestured as Emily quickly introduced you, and a short time later you were all acquainted and working throughout the bullpen. You and Spencer were just beginning to start the geographical profile when one of the Washington police officers, Kline, made his way over to you. “Pardon me agents, do you need any help?” You looked up from your section of the grid lines and smiled at him which he returned brightly, but before you could answer, Spencer dismissed him. Kline’s face fell slightly but he nodded and made his way over to where Tara and Luke were reviewing the last known areas of the victims.

You turned and stared at Spencer in disbelief. He looked up after a few seconds, feeling your eyes burning a hole through the top of his head. “Yes?” You glared at him harder, before railing into him in a hushed tone “Don’t ‘yes?’ me. That was insanely rude. They’re here to help us! Quit acting all high and mighty.” He stared back at you and you saw the stubbornness light up his eyes. “Why should I? We could solve this case twice as fast without them getting in the way.” He knew he was talking too loud, and was more than aware of Kline who was staring at his back with a sour look resting on his face. “Spencer! I don’t know what your problem is, but you need to fix it. You’re being an ass.” He rolled his eyes and you both let out a sigh before looking back down at the maps covering the desktop beneath you.

A few hours passed before you and Spencer finished the geographical profile, and you gestured Kline over to ask him a few questions about the area you’d narrowed down. Spencer noticed he had made his way to your side and bit his lip to keep himself silent. “Officer Kline, can you tell me anything about this area of the block? It seems like a lot of our victims were last seen in this area.” He eyed the map where red ink stained the paper and pondered for a few seconds. “Well, there’s not much out there really. A few older shops and some construction to the east” he gestured to the empty spot of land on the map “but nothing of real interest. We don’t usually get calls for the homeless population over here either. There’s not really much shelter so they don’t usually go towards this way” Your brow furrowed and you nodded, thanking him but before he could get another word in Spencer piped up. “Kline, if the homeless population doesn’t “Go that way” he mocked the officer in front of you, and Kline tensed up in response “then why are they all disappearing from the area? Does that make sense to you?”

Kline struggled to respond and you glared at Spencer before assuring Kline there was no need for him to pay Spencer any mind, excusing his behavior with a rambling about late nights and too little coffee. Kline walked away and you stared Spencer down for several seconds before making your way towards the main group to deliver the geographic profile, leaving Spencer to sulk. You continued to avoid Spencer until you were sent out to investigate the block you sectioned off with Emily and JJ. You opted to drive which left Spencer in the passenger seat, fuming at your silent treatment and JJ and Emily trying to fight the tension in the SUV to no avail.

You parked the SUV a few blocks away and the four of you walked the rest of the way to avoid raising too much suspicion. You were standing in the center of the unsubs hot zone when you noticed a line of people clustered in front of one of the more rundown buildings. The building had wide front windows that had been taped over with brown paper, as well as the glass doors. You and Spencer approached the group warily, trying to get closer to see the poorly written signs on the door.

“DISCOUNT MEAT - PRE-COOKED”

“12pm-12am”

You gestured Emily and JJ over and the four of you quickly aimed to disperse the crowd much to their displeasure. After several minutes of arguing and multiple badge flashes you managed to succeed and stood outside the door ready to investigate once the owner opened his doors. Fifteen minutes had passed without any sign of movement from the inside and Spencer began to shift anxiously, causing you to do the same. A few more seconds passed and you heard the locks on the door click, reaching your hand around to rest on your holster automatically. As soon as the door opened, Emily pushed through holding her badge and announcing the reason for your investigation.

The shop owner immediately demanded you leave and not return unless you had a warrant. “Actually, because this is no longer a registered business it becomes property of the town and therefore is subject to any kind of local or national investigation under Property law 14, sections 3a-3f go more in depth about the issue if you feel the need to verify.” Spencer explained the situation while sifting through the counter drawers, leaving the man to sit in silent rage while Emily and JJ questioned him. You bent over to fiddle with a padlock on a hollowed bench seat on the far wall and pulled one of the pins out of your hair to pick it. A few seconds of tampering later, the lock gave way with a satisfying click and you pulled the bench open. A rancid smell hit your nose and stomach before you could process what you were seeing. Body parts were wrapped in butcher's paper and poorly taped, and you fought to keep your breakfast down as you slammed the bench shut. Emily then stood the man up and cuffed him, while reciting the miranda rights. JJ followed her out and you followed her quickly, trying and failing to erase the memory from your mind.

Back at the office, the rest of the team and several of the officers had already begun processing the unsubs case and there was little left to be done by the time you returned. You filled out your files and quickly wrote out your account of the incident before heading to the breakroom for a cup of coffee. You pulled your mug down from the shelf and pressed your favorite individual pod into the machine and pressed the button to let it run. You were digging in the fridge for your creamer when a deep voice startled you

“Little late for coffee isn’t it?” You turned swiftly to find Kline standing in the doorway and you let out a small sigh. “When you work like we do, it’s never too late for coffee” You smiled and made your cup to your taste, taking a long sip. You expected Kline to just grab what he wanted and leave, but instead he continued to make awkward conversation despite you going so far as to begin scrolling through your phone. “So, that Spencer guy is really a piece of work huh?” You fought the urge to roll your eyes and instead remained focused on your screen, telling yourself that he just didn’t get the chance to see the good side of Spencer like everyone else there had. “He’s really not a bad guy, he’s just had a long day. We all have.” Kline nodded but moved closer to you, so close that you could smell his headache-inducing cologne. “I’m just saying, if I had the opportunity to work with you every day, I wouldn’t waste my time arguing with you. I’d treat you right.”

You shifted uncomfortably, praying he would pick up on your uneasiness and back off but instead he moved to corner you against the counter. You tried to excuse yourself but your voice caught in your throat.

“Kline, I really overestimated you. I figured even a man as dimwitted as yourself would be able to tell when a woman isn’t interested but here we are.” Your head snapped up towards the doorway where Spencer was standing. Kline turned around and prepared himself to tell your boyfriend off when he froze. Spencer had the look in his eye that sent chills down your spine and made it very aware to Kline that there was no use fighting. He quickly left the room and you and Spencer held eye contact for several seconds before he spoke again “Meet me in the storage room at the end of the hall in 2 minutes.” His voice made your legs feel weak and you nodded, dumping the contents of your mug down the drain, keeping your pace in check as you slipped into the hallway.

You had barely unlatched the door when Spencer pushed it the rest of the way open and you felt yourself being dragged into the dimly lit space. You barely had time to let out a surprised squeak when you felt his lips against your throat, turning your noise into one of pleasure. His kisses quickly turned sharp, applying the expertly rehearsed amount of pressure to avoid marks but to still send shockwaves of heat to your core. “Spence” his name left your lips in a whine while he busied himself unbuttoning your blouse. “Spencer, you just lost the bet.” You felt a smirk grow across your face that disappeared as he hiked your skirt up to your hips while rubbing your clit through your panties. “Fuck the bet, Y/N. I’m sick of seeing you walk around here clueless. You know I’ve been all over Kline’s ass, little girl?” His voice dropped lower and he lifted you up to push you against the wall. “It’s because he couldn’t stop looking at yours.” You let out a moan as he pushed your panties to the side, slipping two of his fingers into you.

“Fuck baby, you’re so wet. Did me getting all protective of you turn you on? You like making daddy jealous?” You shook your head as well as you could manage, trying to keep your volume in check. “Answer me pet, or you’re not gonna get daddy’s cock in you like I know you’re desperate for.” You whimpered at his words “No! I-I wasn’t trying to make you jealous daddy I swear!” You stuttered as he began to spread you further with his fingers. He smiled against the exposed skin of your chest before removing his fingers. “That’s my good girl. You ready for daddy?” You nodded as he fiddled with his belt buckle, moaning in anticipation as he released his cock from his slacks. You bit your lip as he ran the tip over your folds, sucking in a harsh breath as he pushed himself deep inside you. He let you adjust for a moment while he sucked at your neck again. “Daddy, please move. Please, I need you.” He let his hips move, pulling almost all the way out of you before slamming you forward into the wall again. You let out a moan as he thrusted in and out of you. You felt like your skin was on fire, the lack of touch over the past days made everything more intense.

A few more minutes passed and you felt yourself growing dangerously close to the edge. “Spence I’m gonna cum” you felt his pace grow even more rapid and he circled your clit with his thumb. “I’m gonna cum inside you angel. I’m gonna fill you up with my kid. You want that huh? Want everyone to know that you belong to me, don’t you?” You moaned at his words “God yes, please daddy. Please cum inside me!” You felt his hips stutter under you and a familiar warmth as you finally climaxed. Your toes curled and your head fell back against the wall, trying to catch your breath.

“God Y/N that was amazing.” You let out a soft whimper as he pulled out of you and lowered you back down to your feet. He kissed you, pulling you closer than before. “I love you Spencer. Only you.” He touched the tip of his nose to yours and returned your words, while you both caught your breath. A few minutes later you both exited the closet, and tried to smoothly make your way back to your desks. Washington PD had finished the bureau required paperwork and had already left so things were much quieter.

You had just sat down when JJ looked up from her computer. “So Spence, whatcha gonna get?” His head snapped up and your cheeks flushed. “Wh-What?” he managed to stutter out. “From the diner? Garcia said she would run out and get dinner.” You both let out simultaneous sighs of relief and told her what you wanted, settling in for a long night.

The next weekend you had free, you found yourselves in one of your favorite spots. The low pitched buzzing added to Spencer’s anxiety as he tried to divert his focus to the bright neon signs. You held his hand, stroking it with your thumb as you waited for your tattoo artist and best friend, Vannessa, to finish Spencer’s design. You tried to distract him but before long she called you back to the table and you heard his breathing quicken. You helped him get settled on the table while Vannessa applied the stencil. She adjusted it until Spencer and you both approved and then she started. Spencer tightened his grip on your hand as she traced the lines while you murmured words of encouragement in his ear. Half an hour later, she was running Spencer through the after care process while wrapping his forearm up. You paid her and made your way out of the shop after thanking her.

Slipping into the driver’s seat, you watched as Spencer carefully maneuvered his way into the car, fastening his seatbelt and resting his arm against the door. The streetlight shining through his window highlighted his forearm perfectly, revealing the perfectly mimicked shape of a shaded black sun.

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illicitlimerence-writes · 4 years ago

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boys have cooties │ t. holland

pairing: middle school teacher!tom holland x middle school teacher!fem!reader warnings: like two or three curse words, kids, overall it's pretty much fluff. maybe some spelling mistakes. word count: 2k a/n: hi, hello. english isn't my first language, so please be kind. this is the first thing i've written in so long so i'm sorry if this sucks. gif ain't mine, creds to the owner!

"mr holland?" "yes, my friend?" he said, crouching so he could be eye level with little natalie. "do you have a girlfriend?" she asked, her pretty green eyes shining brightly. his mind immediately went to the gorgeous (y/e/c)-eyed girl who owned his heart.

"why do you ask that, friend?" he pulled a chair from the table next to him and sat in front of her. he watched as an adorable frown set on her face, cheeks flushing.

"yesterday i was playing in my room and my sissy was watching a movie with a boy. i wanted to watch tangled so i went to the living room and she was kissing him!" she said, banging her hands on the table as if it was the most scandalous thing she'd ever seen.

"really? and what did you do?" he asked, biting his lips and trying his hardest not to grin at the wholesomeness of it all.

"i screamed, and she was really mean, she told me to go to my room and leave her and her boyfriend alone. do boyfriends and girlfriends make you mean?"

"well, no. a boyfriend or girlfriend is supposed to bring out the best of you. i believe what happened was that maybe she was maybe a bit embarrassed about you seeing them together," he explained as carefully as he could to the six-year-old. he loved teaching little kids, but there were times like this when he had to try to put into simple words something as abstract as the concept of love and relationships. he wouldn't change it for the world, though. there was nothing like seeing the mesmerized expressions on each of their faces when they discovered something new together.

"okay. but i don't think i will ever have a boyfriend. because boys have cooties and germs." she said confidently. he couldn't help the chuckle that escaped from his lips. little natalie pressed her hand against her mouth, giggling as if she'd just said the funniest thing in the world.

"natalie! boys don't have cooties." he tried to stop her from laughing, but her giggles only got louder.

"yes they do!" she continued laughing, only stopped when they heard a knock on the door. you walked in, in all your beautiful glory.

"hey ba-buuuddy," you played it cool when you noticed the small child sitting in front of Tom.

"hi, miss y/l/n!" natalie greeted you cheerfully. you gave them both a bright smile, "can you tell mr. holland that i'm right?"

"she's right," you said immediately, winking at her.

"so you agree that boys have cooties?" tom asked, lifting his eyebrows. you grabbed a chair and sat next to him, and grabbed his hand under the table. he interlocked his fingers with yours, squeezing them.

"duh! obviously!" you nodded, which only made the six-year-old to laugh even louder.

"i told you!" she said, pointing a finger at tom. you looked at him, scrunching your nose as you smiled.

"so does that mean i have cooties?" tom asked, his eyes darting between his young student and you.

"no!"

"yes!" you and natalie said at the same time. while the young girl denied it, you played along and accused your perfect boyfriend of having the childish disease.

tom stared at you with his mouth in a perfect o. the six-year-old's laugh could now be heard from outside of the room.

"i'm offended," tom said as he placed a hand on his chest, you chuckled and winked at him.

you were about to make another snarky comment when the loud bell rang, signaling the end of recess.

"saved by the bell," you said dropping his hand and standing up. tom's students began rushing into the room, surprised to see you there.

"miss y/l/n!" the kids cheered.

while tom preferred the joy of teaching new things to the littlest, you enjoyed the challenge of the eldest. your young age was definitely an advantage you had when it came to teaching. you knew the stress and anxiety that school could cause some of the kids and were always flexible with your assignments and your way of teaching. now on your third year as a teacher, you'd heard kids saying they could not wait until they reached fifth grade so they could have you as their teacher. it was safe to say everyone at school loved you. always kind, always giving the best advice, always having the best snacks.

"oh, my goodness! i am never leaving this classroom, you are the cutest little things in the entire world!" you said as they ran to you and hugged your legs.

"go away y/n, they're my kids," tom said faking hurt when he saw the lovestruck expression on the little ones' faces, but his heart fluttered when he saw how they loved you as much as he did.

"i think they love me more than they love you, tommy-boy," you said, a cheeky grin on your lips. he wanted nothing more than to kiss you senseless. but instead, he gasped, eyes widening as he looked around at the kids, some laughing, some ran to tom and hugged his legs as well, meanwhile the others stayed by your side and held you tighter.

"i've been betrayed, and by my own younglings." he dramatically fell to his knees and all the kids rushed to his side, saying how they loved him as much as they loved you.

"no!"

"we love you too, mr. holland!"

"i like miss y/n better."

"you two are my favorite teachers!" loud screeching filled the room, making you laugh.

"okay, kids. go show mr. holland your love, i've gotta go deal with my own munchkins. it was lovely to see you today, remember to drink water, make good choices and listen to tommy-boy here," you ruffled some heads and high-fived hands as you walked backward toward the door.

"alright everybody, let's thank miss y/l/n for stopping by. say goodbye and settle down," tom switched into teacher mode, and you felt the familiar butterflies fluttering in your stomach when you saw him rolling the sleeves of his shirt up to his elbows. biting your lip, you sent him a small wink as a new wave of voices filled the room.

"bye, miss y/l/n!"

"i love you!"

"come back soon!"

"can i go with you?"

"have a nice day!" you smiled and waved at them. giving tom a small nod and a knowing look, you rushed to your classroom at the end of the hall.

you loved your kids, messy and loud and moody.

when you walked into your room you saw most of them sitting and chatting with their own small cliques, but when they heard the sound of your shoes approaching some of them turned their heads to see you.

immediately, the loud voices filled the room.

"where were you?"

"can we watch a movie?"

"i need to use the restroom!"

"you're late!"

"yes, you can go to the restroom. no, we're not waching a movie today. yes, i know i'm late. i was in mr. holland's classroom visiting my favorite kids in the entire school" you answered, lifting an eyebrow and laughing when you saw their reactions.

"hey!"

"not cool!"

"i like him better anyways"

you continued to laugh as you moved your hands, finally getting them to quiet down.

"that, ladies and gents, was a joke. i was kidding. i wouldn't trade my babies for anything in the world" you said as you sat on your desk, folding your legs underneath you.

"miss y/l/n?" a girl raised her arm, you looked up

"yes, alice?"

"i saw you and mr. holland in the morning, you were holding hands." she said, cheeky grin on her face.

"oooooohhhh, miss y/l/n has a boyfriend!" shouting began again. you tried your hardest to suppress the smile that was threatening to settle on your face. instead you bit your lip hard.

"you woke up and chose violence today, alice," you admitted, making them all laugh. "mr. holland and i are just friends, my babies." you said, knowing how they hated when you called them that. "now, we've already lost too much time, let's get to work. everybody take out your books and-"

-------

at the end of the school day, you stayed behind sorting through papers and planning your classes for next week. when you finished, you put your things away, grabbing some papers you needed to grade and putting them in your bag. a knock on the door grabbed your attention.

"hey, baby," you greeted tom. he walked to you, threw his arm around your neck and pressed a kiss on the side of your temple.

"you ready, darling?" he asked, taking your bag from you with his right hand and grabbing your own with his left one. you nodded, lifting your joined hands and kissing his knuckles. you noticed the way his cheeks flushed pink. and it warmed your heart knowing even the simple gestures still made sparks fly between you two after years of being together.

"yes, mr. holland," you teased, locking the door behind you, interlocking your fingers with his again.

"took me a while to quiet them down after your visit, wouldn't stop talking about you," he squeezed your hand, making you grin.

"oh, you should've heard my kids. alice saw us holding hands in the morning. they think you're my boyfriend." you lifted an eyebrow. letting go of his hand when you reached his range rover. the parking lot was now empty. he opened the door for you, you climbed in the passenger seat as he put your handbag and his own backpack in the backseat.

"really?" he asked, you hummed in response. you moved so you were facing him standing outside. he placed his hands on your thighs, your hands immediately finding his. "if they only knew..." he said, letting go of one of your hands, his fingers traveled to your neck, under the collar of your shirt, and toyed with the delicate gold chain around your skin. he lifted the chain, a sparkly diamond ring sitting there like a charm.

"if they only knew..." you repeated his words, hands traveling to his face, cupping his cheeks. your thumb played with lips and he moved his head to kiss it.

"when do you think we should tell them?" he asked, leaning down, resting his forehead against yours, noses brushing together.

"i don't know. they're gonna lose their shit when they find out," you chuckled, earning one from him as well. "we'll have to tell them before the wedding, though. otherwise, my kids will feel betrayed. they're already mad because i told them i'll be gone for a month."

"but it'll be during the summer holidays," he frowned, a beautiful smile forming on his lips.

"i know, that's what i said. apparently, they still think i live in the school." you shook your head, laughing.

"i can't wait until we have our own little ones," he admitted, hiding his face on your neck, fingers still playing with the ring that he gave you almost a year ago on your two-year anniversary. you smiled, your arms around his waist, pulling him closer.

"me neither, then they'll really lose their shit. can you imagine?" you giggled as you felt his warm breath hit your sensitive skin behind your ear.

"i love you so much." he said, pressing small kisses on your neck, traveling up to your jaw, your cheek, and finally your lips. your thumbs tracing invisible circles on his cheek as his lips met yours.

"i love you, too. so, so much." your hands moved to his hair, fingers running through soft curls. "now, take me home, mr. holland. your fiance is getting hungry." you both chuckled, hands finally letting of eachother, you settled in your seat as he gave your lips a small peck before closing your door.

"how's mcdonald's sound?" he asked when he climbed in the driver's seat, starting the car. like magnets, your hands met halfway and you rested your arms on the console between you two.

"with you, everything sounds perfect." you admitted, meeting his bright brown eyes that seemed to sparkle when he heard the words you spoke. he lifted your joined hands and kissed your knuckles, once, twice. all the way until forever.

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writemywaytoyourheart · 4 years ago

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Aim For The Heart | Chapter 2: Push and Pull

Pairing: hitman!jk x female reader

Genre: E2L, romance, drama, angst

WC: 8.2k

Warnings for this chapter: stalking, alcohol consumption, a gun, attempted murder, language (jk has a potty mouth) pls let me know if there's anything I should add!

Tag list; @hopekookies @moonchild1 @barbellastyles98 @teresaisla @ggukkieland @mwitsmejk @scuzmunkie @jaebeomsblackgf @sugaslittlekookies

summary; Jeon Jungkook is an infamous hitman, known for his inability to fail at whatever job is thrown his way. At least, up until now. Y/n, a kind-hearted and full of life teacher, is his newest target. Jeon isn't sure who would put a hit on this seemingly innocent girl, but fortunately, that isn't his problem. All he has to do is pull the trigger.

Previous → Next

Jungkook blinks up at his ceiling, his eyes dry from keeping them open for so long. The light of the sun is starting to peek through his blinds, signaling that morning has officially come. He finally looks away from his ceiling to look at the window where the light is creeping in.

Jungkook sighs and sits up, running a hand through his hair and mussing it up. He's not sure he even got a wink of sleep last night. There's something about this case that's apparently keeping him up at night, and he's barely even started.

He can't help but wonder what this girl did to make herself a target. He's not questioning whether he should go through with it, no, that's not even a question. The money on this girl's head has to be at least three if not four times as much as his previous hits.

Jungkook just wants to know what he's getting himself into, that's what's bugging him the most. He doesn't like walking into situations and not knowing everything that's going on.

He looks around his tiny studio apartment, his eyes blurry. Then, he starts to laugh to himself quietly. With a job that pays this much, he's worrying an awful lot about things that don't matter.

After another minute of delaying the inevitable, Jungkook forces himself to get up and get dressed before grabbing an apple to eat on the way.

As he locks his apartment door behind him, the neighbor's door opens and Jungkook sees a familiar face smiling brightly at him.

"Good morning, Jungkook!"

"Hi, Hoseok. How are you this morning?" Jungkook asks politely.

The older boy smiles even brighter if that's possible as he holds up a rolled-up paper, "I'm great since I've got a new paper to read. Thanks for leaving it, Kook."

Jungkook smiles, "No problem. I was getting one anyway, thought I might as well grab an extra."

Hoseok nods, "Where are you off to? I thought you didn't work at the coffee shop on Tuesdays?"

"Oh, I'm going job hunting," Jungkook responds lightly. "I'm tired of working at the coffee shop." He laughs as Hoseok pouts.

"I haven't even gotten to visit you while you work! Darn." Hoseok snaps his fingers in disappointment. "Oh well, good luck on the job hunt!"

"Thanks, Hoseok." Jungkook smiles and turns to leave, only relaxing when he hears his neighbor's door shut. That's something he doesn't like about having a friendly neighbor, he hates lying to people that seem to actually care about him.

Hoseok was always saying he wanted to visit Jungkook and get some discounted coffee. Jungkook doesn't have the heart to tell him that it was all a lie. In fact, everything he knows about him is a lie.

That's why he doesn't involve a lot of people in his life and he plans to keep it that way.

Jungkook shakes his head to clear it. He's been getting too emotional lately and his head isn't in his work.

"That stops here and now," Jungkook vows to himself as he waits at a crosswalk, watching the cars drive by.

A few minutes later, he arrives at Sunshine Kindergarten.

Jungkook is caught off guard when he sees the girl immediately. He had expected to have to wait for her arrival again today. She's sitting outside the school on the steps, a book in her hands that's long forgotten as she looks up at the sky. It looks like she's talking to someone, but when Jungkook looks around, there's no one else anywhere near her.

The girl cocks her head to the side, then starts to rock back and forth a little as she continues to talk to no one. Too curious for his own good, Jungkook crosses the street to get closer. Maybe if he gets close enough, he can hear what she's saying.

"I th-think...maybe s-sandwiches would be a good idea."

The hell?

Jungkook glances at her as he pretends to just stroll by. She's definitely talking to herself.

"No, no no no. I had a s-sandwich for l-lunch yesterday..." She bites the fingernail on her right thumb as she seems to contemplate something. She takes no notice of Jungkook while she continues to look at her book, then the sky.

"Mm, maybe tt-tteokbokki?"

Jungkook fights the urge to look at her like she's insane and just continues to walk by until he's safe to turn and keep an eye on her.

"Oooh, tteokbokki sounds y-yummy." The girl says with finality. Then she glances at her phone, notices the time, and starts putting her book in her cupcake and cookie decorated bag. A minute later, she's walking into the school and leaving his line of sight.

"What the hell..." Jungkook mutters to himself.

Who even is this girl?

_____________

Today, as Jungkook follows behind the girl as she walks home, she stops several times to talk to babies, dogs, and even a bird.

Jungkook just follows behind in disbelief.

This has to be some kind of an act.

Yeah, that's definitely what it is. This girl is better than he thought, she's got her whole act planned out to throw anyone off her track. She's going to have to do better than acting like some innocent school teacher to throw him off though.

This time, instead of heading straight home, the girl goes to an arcade. When Jungkook walks into the arcade a minute later, he spots her in the same white skirt and chunky tennis shoes, a light blue cardigan around her shoulders.

She's playing one of the games by herself, her face set into one of pure determination. Jungkook goes to a game where he can still see her and starts to play. He's more focused on making sure she doesn't leave, so he ends up losing that first round.

He doesn't really care though, he watches her carefully as she shouts in triumph. A few tickets come out of her little machine and she snags them, running to the front to trade them in for a tiny stuffie.

The girl ends up staying at the arcade for another two hours, collecting enough tickets to trade in for an octopus stuffie that's almost the size of her to go along with the tiny starfish one she got earlier.

She looks laughable as she carries her prizes out the front door and down the street, clutching the giant octopus like her life depends on it. The little starfish rides along safely in her bag.

One more stop is made as the girl gets a little cup of ice cream from a man selling it on the side of the street. The second he asked her if she wanted to buy some, it was like she couldn't say no as she hurriedly agreed and bought one scoop of ice cream. When she leaves, Jungkook goes up to the man and buys a scoop of mint chocolate chip ice cream to eat while he follows her.

He hasn't had a decent meal all day and he's starving.

It's starting to get dark by the time Jungkook recognizes the streets they're on and realizes she's finally heading home. Weirdly enough, the girl turns and walks down a dark alley, even though the streetlamp near it is flickering on and off.

Doesn't she have any sense of self-preservation? Jungkook thinks to himself.

It might not be good for her, but it's definitely something that could help him out immensely. He'll have to keep tailing her for a few more days to make sure, but if she continues to use this dark alley as a shortcut, then she's practically doing his job for him.

Sure enough, they end up a lot closer to her apartment by the time they're out of the alley. So, it's a shortcut she probably uses quite often. Then Jungkook notices that she hasn't turned around to look at her surroundings this entire time.

She's making this too easy.

He could have this job over with by the end of the week if luck stays on his side. It's always a relief when it doesn't take him long to get a job done.

He's really had nothing to worry about, why was he worrying so much? It isn't his business why this girl is a target, it's his job to carry out his end of the deal, that's all.

It feels like a weight has lifted off of his shoulders as he climbs the stairs to his apartment that night. He says hello to Hoseok, who's sitting outside and reading, before making his way inside.

The first thing he does is jump in the shower, then when he's finished, he makes himself some ramen.

Jungkook sits alone at his little dining table, gently blowing on the noodles in-between his chopsticks. His hair is still damp from his shower, but he's cozy in his sweats with something close enough to a real meal than he's had all day. He gets up once to grab some kimchi and soju from the fridge, then he stays at the dining table until he's downed two bottles.

This happens every time he gets a new job. It feels good at the moment, but he knows he's going to regret it in the morning. That's the only thought that stops him from grabbing a third bottle.

By the time he's settled into bed, he's forgotten what was worrying him so much the past few days. He smiles to himself, relieved that he'll be getting that money in a week at most. He'll have to come up with a plan when he isn't hammered like he is now. That's the last thought to pass through his mind before he's out like a light.

______________

You wake up to the sound of birds chirping.

Not real birds, just the sound that you chose for your alarm. Something you're grateful that Mina helped you do. The other alarm sounds just give you anxiety when they go off.

You don't notice it at first, but by the time you've become aware of your surroundings, you realize that your legs are all tangled up with the tentacles of a giant octopus stuffie. The small starfish stuffie is laying by your head. The events of last night, you getting enough tickets to get your new little friends, makes their way into your brain.

You laugh and snuggle into it more.

No wonder you slept so soundly last night; you had something to cuddle!

You breathe deeply, after a few minutes you're awake enough to sit up and rub your eyes. Smiling to yourself at the sight of the beautiful golden light seeping in through your blinds, you sigh happily. Normally you don't like waking up, but today feels different. There's something that's shifted, but you can't tell what it is.

Maybe it's because you slept so well last night. The nightmares that usually plague your dreams, were absent. You smile at the giant octopus in your arms, "Y-You chased away all the b-bad dreams!" You exclaim, hugging it tightly to your chest, "Thanks, C-Cookie!"

You named the stuffie last night, the starfish also got a name, Smiley, due to the tiny smile stitched into its adorable little face.

You sit in bed for another minute or so, just staring into space and thinking about random things. Then you slip out of bed and hurry to the bathroom to get a quick shower. As the water pours down your head and shoulders, you start to sing a song that's been stuck in your head for a few days. Your voice cracks as you try to hit the higher notes, but you pay it no mind and keep singing your heart out.

With your hair wrapped up in a towel on top of your head, you pour yourself a bowl of your favorite cereal. You play your favorite songs as you eat and hum along to them, your mind wandering. When you're finished, you move to your room to get dressed.

Opening your closet, you stand there and scan the limited amount of clothing you have as if you had millions of choices to pick from. "One, two, three, four..." You count lowly to yourself, pointing at each shirt, skirt, and pants hanging in your closet. After a minute of debating, you decide to wear your light blue flowy skirt today instead of your favorite white one. You pull it on, then grab a white blouse along with some frilly white socks.

Mina texted you earlier to tell you how sorry she was, but she couldn't drive you today. Her work wanted her in at six o'clock sharp. You didn't need to be at work until seven. You reassured her that you would be totally fine walking. You love to walk in the mornings anyway, the fresh air always smells so nice and all the birds seem to be braver as they are out more in the morning. The whole world is just so quiet and beautiful as it wakes up.

You hum to yourself as you pull on your favorite tennis shoes. It takes you a few tries to get the laces done, but you manage.

"What should I eat f-for lunch today?" You ask yourself as you scan your fridge. You really want to try making some kimbap, but the last time you tried that without Mina's help, you ended up with a burned finger and almost lost another finger trying to cut the veggies.

So, you decide to make yourself another simple sandwich today, cheese this time. When you're done putting it together, you get out your cookie cutters and get to work. You have to contain your excitement at the heart-shaped sandwiches sitting on the counter after you're finished.

You stick to letting yourself jump around for a second to let the giddiness out, then you force yourself to calm down enough to grab a container and gently put the little sandwiches in. You grab a few more little snacky things to put in your lunch bag, then you zip it all up.

Finally, you're ready to go!

You grab your bag and sling it over your shoulder, then you snag your lunch and clutch it tightly in your fist as you make your way out of your apartment, remembering to lock the door this time.

Mina would be proud of you.

The crisp June morning air hits your nose and you breathe in deeply, a smile spreading on your face as you descend the stairs.

You make good time this morning, seeing as there isn't much to catch your attention today. You arrive at the school twenty minutes before the bell is going to ring, so you decide to sit on the steps again today like you did yesterday. It's just too nice out here to be all closed up in your classroom before your kids even get here.

You pull out your drawing pad from your bag and get comfortable on the front steps. Next, you take out your colored pencils as you scan the area, trying to figure out what you should draw today.

You see something across the street, the kind old man that runs the paper stand. Maybe you could draw him and give it to him as a present when it's all finished! You nod in excitement and get to work, your nose soon buried in your drawing pad.

______________

Jungkook had decided this morning that he would follow the girl from her home. If he was lucky and she was going to walk today it would be a perfect chance to see if she always uses the alleyway or if she had just used it by chance last night.

The girl comes out of her place around six-twenty, in a light blue skirt this time. Jungkook smirks, so she does own something that isn't just that one white skirt.

Her hair is a little messed up as if she forgot to brush it before leaving. She's got a scrunchie on her wrist, but it appears that she has no intention of using it.

Jungkook follows a little ways behind her, as he has been these past few days. With how distracted this girl gets, he could walk right behind her and she'd never notice him.

Surprisingly, she doesn't stop much on the way to the school. She skips a little, probably to the beat of the song she's listening to in her headphones. A few people, Jungkook notices, give her odd looks.

He later finds out when he hears her, that it's probably because she's talking to herself as she looks at the sky, then down to her shoes as she watches herself walk.

He shakes his head, seriously wanting to know what the story is behind this target.

She deserves an oscar, Jungkook thinks in amusement.

Then he notices that she doesn't use the alley, she just passes by it.

Maybe she'll use it again tonight, he thinks hopefully.

At one point, the girl trips over a crack in the sidewalk and lurches forward. He isn't sure why, but he finds himself stepping closer, his hands out to catch her before he realizes what he's doing. Jungkook steps back and clears his throat, watching as she catches herself anyway, and continues to skip down the sidewalk.

When they get close to the school, Jungkook crosses the street and heads over to buy a paper from the old man before finding a bench and settling down on it. He looks over the paper, expecting the girl to just go inside, but instead, she sits on the steps again.

He watches as she pulls a notebook out of her childish bag, then she pulls out a little box. Out of the little box, she takes some colored pencils. She looks across the street and he can tell she's decided to draw the old man at the paper stand.

Huh.

This girl is undoubtedly strange.

She sits and draws in concentration for a good ten minutes, then she gathers up her things and heads inside. She must be too excited about her picture because as she's skipping in she yet again trips on the last step and stumbles. The girl catches herself and continues in as if she's used to tripping over everything.

Jungkook cocks an eyebrow, then just shakes his head again and goes back to reading the paper. He's got some time to kill before school is over.

It turns out, he would see the girl before the last bell.

Jungkook thanks the man at the food stand and heads to his little bench to sit down and eat his lunch, grateful that he's going to be eating actual meals today.

He digs into the tteokbokki and fish cakes immediately. It's as delicious as he expected it to be and he tries not to groan in satisfaction at the taste of something that isn't just instant ramen noodles. But what he doesn't expect, is to see the girl coming out from the school.

Jungkook chokes on a rice cake as he scrambles to grab his paper and flip it open, covering his face. He settles his breathing enough to be able to swallow the bite that almost killed him, his eyes closed in annoyance. When he slowly peeks over the top, he sees her sitting on the front steps again, a little pink lunch sack in her lap. She moves her legs so her skirt doesn't ride up and expose anything, then she opens the lunch bag.

Jungkook watches in mounting disbelief as she pulls out what looks to be a heart-shaped sandwich.

How much weirder can this girl get?

She says something to herself before taking a big bite of the sandwich, her cheeks puffing out like a chipmunk that stuffed one too many nuts in his mouth.

He shakes his head and stabs a little rice cake before shoving it in his mouth. He isn't sure why this girl is starting to annoy the crap out of him, but she is. Jungkook looks up again when he hears a loud laugh ring out from across the street. A couple that was walking look at the girl like she's insane, but she doesn't seem to notice.

She just covers her mouth with her hand and snorts as she looks at something on her phone. Jungkook scoffs and goes back to his paper, the annoyance seeping off of him.

How can someone be so annoyingly happy all the time? Damn.

It's like she knows she's got everything she's ever wanted and she couldn't care less about anyone else's problems.

Jungkook despises people like that.

It's as if a switch goes off in him and he's suddenly really freaking pissed off. People like her think that life is so easy all the damn time. Do they ever struggle with anything?

He snaps his paper to straighten it out, trying to calm himself down before he goes into that nasty hole of becoming envious of those more fortunate than him.

Against his better judgment, Jungkook looks over the paper at her again, his chest only burning with more hatred as she starts to count the stupid little carrot sticks in the container on her lap.

Fucking annoying.

By the time Jungkook looks up again, the girl is gone. A second later, the bell signaling the end of lunch rings loudly.

Jungkook sits on the bench in a funk until the end of school bell rings. When he finally sees the target coming out of the school, he stands up and starts to follow her. The same routine he's been doing since Monday. Jungkook mulls over a few things in his head as he watches her stop at several food stands until she's got a cup of rice cakes, a scoop of ice cream, a fish cake skewer, and a mochi that's bigger than usual. He doesn't know how she is able to carry all that, but she manages.

She walks around a bit, looking into the windows of shops, her forehead pressing against the glass as she stares at a gaudy red dress. She stuffs another bite of mochi in her mouth, chewing sadly as she reluctantly drags herself away from the store window.

Jungkook looks at the dress in distaste; it's hideous. He can't imagine someone actually buying that thing, besides, it's probably way overpriced anyway.

He turns from it to keep following her, seeing that she's stopped now at a window where a few puppies are running around and playing with each other. The girl smiles at them and puts her hand up to the glass. A tiny brown puppy inches close to her hand and licks the glass that separates them.

She giggles delightedly.

Jungkook watches, emotionless.

When is she going to head home?

Finally, after what feels like hours, the girl starts taking the streets that lead back to her apartment. Jungkook sighs in relief, then he gets another nice surprise when she turns to head into the alley by her house.

A smirk spreads on his face as he enters the alley behind her. He knows what he's going to do.

_______________

The next day passes just like they have been this past week. Jungkook trails the girl from her apartment to the school, from the school back to her apartment. It's a relief to find that whenever she walks, she takes the alley by her house on the way home.

Now, Jungkook is sure what his plan is going to be.

It'll be sure to draw attention when this girl is dead, there's no doubt about it. No one is going to suspect her of being anything other than a school teacher, so why would someone kill her?

Jungkook has thought through it all. This is what he does for a living, of course he isn't going to be sloppy about it. He'll be done with this by Sunday and no one will suspect anything other than a robbery gone wrong.

He happened to overhear the conversation between the target and her friend that drives the black car. The friend will be gone by Saturday morning, out of the picture and none the wiser.

Jungkook needs to be careful today though. He also overheard them this morning talking about how they are going to be meeting up at the girl's apartment tonight. Something about doing girl shit before the friend leaves tomorrow.

So, Jungkook decides to take the day off. He heads back home, not about to be caught by this friend that's probably a lot smarter than the target.

He'll just come to her apartment tomorrow morning and the plan will be over by tomorrow night.

______________

When you see Mina's car parked out in front of the school, you start running outside excitedly, your bag bouncing as you bound down the front steps.

"M-Mina!"

She has a huge smile on her face when you open the passenger door and climb in. "Hey, girl!" Mina shouts, yanking you over to hug you. "Aren't you excited it's Friday??"

You nod, "Yes, b-but...I am g-gonna miss you." You pout.

Mina shakes her head, "Nuh-uh. Tonight we party, there shall be no tears!"

You laugh as you buckle yourself in, "Ok, I p-promise I won't cry. W-What are we going to do tonight?"

Mina smirks sneakily and nudges your arm, "Oh you'll see~"

_______________

You clap in excitement when you see what Mina has planned for you two. After you unlocked your apartment door and let her in, she had set down a few bags, then instructed you to open them.

Inside one, you found a tub of ice cream, a box of cookies, and a few bags of your favorite types of chips. In the other, there were two blankets, two pairs of fuzzy socks, and a couple different movies.

"We g-get to have m-movie night?" You jump up and down as Mina nods happily.

"Yes! Now you have to pick which movie you want to watch. Should we do romance or comedy?" She starts pulling the stuff out of the bags as you mull over the different choices.

You have a hard time deciding things a lot of the time, that's why Mina usually has you make the choice. She wants you to get some practice making decisions.

After she's set everything up, she turns back to see you on your knees, leaning over the movies that you've laid out on the ground. You're biting the nail on your thumb as you appear concerned, looking at the movies.

Your best friend laughs and moves to crouch next to you. She looks at you and speaks softly, "Do you want to laugh tonight, or do you want to get the butterflies in your tummy?"

You turn to her and a shy smile spreads on your face, "Ok, l-let's do romance!"

A few minutes later, you're cuddled up next to your best friend. You both have fuzzy socks on and blankets, keeping you warm. You each also have a spoon, scooping out the ice cream as your eyes are glued onto one of your favorite romance movies of all time.

Not even three hours have passed when you're both dead asleep on your couch. Soft snores leave Mina's mouth, both of your legs tangled up with each other. The second movie is playing in the background, long forgotten after you both fell asleep not even halfway through.

The next morning, you wake up on the couch groggily. You look around in confusion, forgetting for a minute why you're on the couch. Then you remember and you laugh to yourself as you rub your eyes. Then you look around again.

Mina isn't anywhere and you think for a moment that she's left without saying goodbye. You hang your head, trying not to cry. Then you hear the toilet flush and the water run in the bathroom. You sigh in relief and wait patiently for her to come out.

When she does, you instantly stand up, "Want s-some breakfast?" You offer. She smiles sadly, "I wish I could stay for breakfast. But I have to leave now. I still have to grab my luggage and head to the airport. My flight is at ten."

You look at your phone and see that it's eight o'clock.

"Oh," You say sadly.

Mina walks over and hugs you, "Don't worry, ___. I'll be back before you know it! And I'll call you whenever I'm not working, okay?"

You nod and smile at her to reassure her that you're okay.

She leaves a few minutes later and you find yourself alone in your quiet apartment once again. Your nose twitches as you try not to tear up, then you move to the kitchen to get yourself some of your favorite cereal to cheer yourself up.

You'll have to plan some fun things for you to do while she's gone, or you might just go crazy.

______________

Jungkook has been outside the girl's apartment since eight this morning. He saw the friend leaving a little after he got there. He recognized her shoulder-length black hair immediately and he knew it was the driver.

He had smiled to himself when he saw her get into her car and drive away. He honestly can't believe the luck he's had on this job so far. This is going to be the easiest he's ever had it.

But now, he's sitting on a bench in complete and utter boredom as he waits for the girl to leave her house. It turns out, she doesn't leave her house until almost lunchtime.

By the time he sees a flash of black and grey, he's almost fallen asleep on the bench. But he jerks up the second he sees the girl hurrying down her stairs. She looks totally different today...

Jungkook is surprised to see the girl is in grey sweatpants and a long black t-shirt. A black bucket hat is on her head, seemingly hiding her bed head if the knotted bits of the hair he can see tell anything.

She's usually more put together, but then again, it is the weekend. Not everyone should be expected to go all out to look decent when they aren't working.

But there is one thing that hasn't changed; the girl is still simple as hell looking.

She doesn't have a bit of make-up on as she rubs her eyes.

He gets up to follow her once she's about two blocks away.

Jungkook shakes his head when he sees that even though her outfit is completely devoid of color today, she still has that damned bag covered in colorful treats.

It seems like today this girl is on a mission. She walks briskly and not a single thing distracts her. She only stops once, to get a small bite of lunch from a food stand. Jungkook realizes where they're headed a second before the girl stops.

She looks into the window of the store and waves at the brown puppy. It wags its tail at her and she smiles for the first time that Jungkook's seen today.

The girl goes into the store and Jungkook follows a minute later.

He sees her talking to a woman at the front. She points at the dogs in the front window and the woman nods with a smile. A minute later, the girl has the brown puppy in her arms as she's sitting in one of the little places with a bench and walls to keep the dogs that are being held from getting out.

"Can I help you, sir?"

Jungkook flinches and turns to see the woman that helped the girl looking at him with a smile. "Oh, uh...I, uh..." Jungkook looks around frantically, then he points at a little black kitten that's sitting in a big cage, staring at him.

"Can I uh...hold that kitten?"

Why the hell is he so awkward??

The woman smiles brighter and nods, "Of course! Come with me."

Jungkook tries not to groan in frustration as he follows her to the kitten's cage. This wasn't part of the plan, but whatever.

The little ball of fluff mewls when the woman takes it out and hands it to a very stressed Jungkook.

Damn it.

He flinches when the kitten licks his nose. The woman laughs, "Looks like he's finally found someone he likes. No one that's ever come in here to hold him has ever had him more than a few seconds before he freaked out."

Jungkook forces himself to smile at the employee. Then, he turns to keep an eye on the girl, pretending like he's just talking to the kitten.

"Hi, little guy." He speaks softly, his eyes shifting to see the girl hugging the puppy close to her chest.

After a few minutes, the girl reluctantly hands the puppy back to the store employee, her eyes watering as she talks to the little dog.

"I p-promise I'll come back and b-buy you next t-time, okay?" Then she hurries out of the store, making Jungkook hand the kitten to a random employee. "I might get him another time." He says in a rush before hurrying out after her.

The day is spent much like it is after she gets off work every day. The girl gets some steamed buns and walks through the park, humming along to whatever song is playing in her headphones. Jungkook strolls along behind her, going through the plan over and over again in his head to make sure he isn't missing anything.

He's pretty sure he's got it all down to the last detail, nothing should go wrong tonight. This target is quite predictable, but there's always that chance that they pull something that you don't expect. Jungkook doubts that'll happen with this girl, but he can't be positive. After all, if she is acting, then she could turn it on him in an instant.

Jungkook watches the girl doubtfully as she tries to stuff more steamed bun into her mouth than it can take.

Geez.

Then the girl suddenly plops down on the ground. Jungkook stops and sits on a nearby bench to watch her. She sets her paper bag of remaining steamed buns on the grass next to her, then pulls out the drawing notebook that Jungkook has seen her use several times this week.

The girl gets right to work, her nose stuffed into the notebook as she scribbles madly. Jungkook fights the urge to get up and look over her shoulder at what she's drawing. He used to love to draw when he was younger. When the world wasn't such a brutal place to live in and be accepted.

Jungkook leans back on the bench and tilts his head up to the sky as he closes his eyes. He gets the feeling that they're going to be here for a while. Besides, he can still hear her drawing, no need to keep an eye on her. The feeling of the warm sun on his skin makes some distant memories try and sneak their way into his brain, but Jungkook immediately blocks them out.

He takes a deep breath of the fresh June air through his nose, then blows it out through his mouth slowly. Hell, he's exhausted.

Jungkook reaches a hand up to snatch his black baseball cap off and sets it in his lap. Then he starts to massage the back of his neck, his eyes still closed. He feels like he hasn't had nearly enough sleep this week, the stress of just wanting to get this blasted job done keeping him up at night.

The sound of the girl drawing and mumbling to herself reaches Jungkook's ears as he continues to massage his neck. Then he moves down and starts to rub the tense part of his shoulder close to his neck. After that, Jungkook moves his hands to start massaging his face. He rubs his eyes and temples, moving down to his cheeks.

"Hello, mister."

Jungkook flinches at the tiny voice and his eyes fly open as he yanks his hands from his face.

There's a very very small girl standing in front of him, her long black hair in two braids on either side of her face. Her huge dark eyes stare into Jungkook's as he calms his breathing.

Fucking hell. Scared the shit out of me.

"What do you-"

Jungkook cuts himself off when the little girl steps even closer until she's standing in between his spread legs. He leans back, one of his eyebrows rising in confusion.

The hell does this girl want?

Jungkook looks around to see if he can find her mother or father. When he looks back at her, she's smiling shyly, her wide eyes still staring straight into his soul.

"What do you need?" He snaps.

She doesn't react to his sharp tone, she just reaches out and snags his baseball cap. Jungkook tries to protest but she places it on her head anyway. She looks even tinier if that's possible, his hat looking positively massive on her small head. "My name is Mi-Rah." She whispers.

Jungkook feels a twist in his stomach. This innocent child shouldn't be anywhere near someone like him. He kills people for a living.

Where on earth are her parents? Have they taught her nothing about stranger danger?

Then Mi-Rah reaches into her pocket and pulls out a piece of candy in a very crumpled wrapper. She takes Jungkook's large hand and places it into his open palm. "You look very sad, mister. Sometimes all we need to feel happy is something sweet, no matter how small."

Jungkook tears his eyes away from the little candy and looks at the tiny girl in disbelief. How old is she?

"Uh...thank you-"

"You don't have to thank me, mister. Maybe just...make someone else smile today. Give someone else a chance to be happy." The little girl says simply. Then she takes his hat off her head and places it back onto his own before turning and running off.

What the hell.

That girl spoke like an adult, but she couldn't have been any older than seven. Jungkook shakes his head, then glances at the candy. It has a bit of lint on it, there's no way in hell he's gonna eat that. So, without thinking, he stuffs it into his pocket, then his eyes shift over to where the girl is drawing.

Except she isn't there.

"Fuck." Jungkook jumps up and whips his head around, scanning the park. When he doesn't see a single sign of her, a growl leaves his throat and he starts walking. If that kid hadn't distracted him, this wouldn't have happened.

Jungkook walks around for a good two hours, but he hasn't seen the girl once. Now he's starting to panic. The sun will start going down soon.

What if she already went home?

His plan would be ruined.

Crap.

Jungkook takes his cap off and runs a hand through his hair in frustration. He doesn't want to have to wait another day to get this over with.

One more hour passes as Jungkook frantically walks around the city. He even goes to the girl's apartment to see if he can tell if she went home, but all the lights inside are off so she probably isn't in there.

After another hour, the sun is down.

Jungkook curses and kicks at a little stone on the sidewalk, watching it roll into the grass. He fucked up. He got distracted and now he's going to have to do this all over again tomorrow if he's even lucky enough that the girl will go out and stay out all day tomorrow.

After all these years, he's never lost a target before. He feels like an idiot. Out of all the hits he's had, every single one, this weird-ass kindergarten teacher is the one he loses. All because he let some kid come and distract him for a second.

He curses again and resists the urge to throw a punch at something, anything.

Jungkook turns around, ready to head home and curse himself until the day he dies. But he stops short when he sees a familiar figure walking down the street. A bucket hat covers their face, but the unmistakably ridiculous bag is hanging from her shoulder.

"Fucking hell." Jungkook sighs in relief as he watches the girl make her way towards the alley. His luck is back! The second the girl turns into the dark and desolate walkway, Jungkook follows her in.

She's singing softly to herself as she walks slowly, taking her time. As if there isn't a killer looming right behind her.

Jungkook pulls the gun he grabbed from his safe earlier out of his back pocket. The girl stops, then crouches to pick something up as Jungkook switches the safety off his gun.

He raises it slowly.

A tiny laugh slips out of the girl's mouth as she messes with something on the ground, her smaller figure crouched on the dirty cement of the alley.

Jungkook aims carefully, he's got a perfect target.

He can do it.

He can be done with this.

So, why isn't he pulling the trigger?

Jungkook shakes his head and raises the gun again.

Fuck.

The girl stands up again and starts to walk quickly.

Shit, shit, shit Jungkook scrambles after her, almost tripping on the trash piled in the alley. She happens to be the one to trip on it first. Her arms flail out and a tiny shriek leaves her mouth as she tumbles to the ground. "Ow." He hears her whimper quietly. "Owie." She pulls her right knee out from under her and pulls her sweats up enough to see the small cut on it. Ok, enough dilly-dallying Jungkook. Get it done. Jungkook raises the gun once more as the girl gets to her feet and starts to walk away. He's about to call out and get her attention so he can get her from the front. Make it look like a robbery gone bad. That's when he sees the papers on the ground that had fallen out of her bag when she fell. He doesn't know what possesses him to look closer, but he does. Shock courses through him at the drawings he sees. They're fucking terrible. They look like a four-year-old drew them, the coloring not even in the lines she drew. What the hell even is that? A fucking bird? There's something that looks kind of like an apple tree next to the deformed-looking bird thing. Another picture shows an awfully drawn lollipop. Who messes up a lollipop? Jungkook looks up at the girl, who has stopped to look at her phone. "Give someone else a chance to be happy." The tiny girl's words suddenly ring through his mind and Jungkook swallows thickly. He lowers the gun, his arm hanging limply at his side. "Damn it." The girl swivels when she hears the voice of a man behind her, but when she turns there's no one there. She glances at the dumpsters and trash bags and listens intently. When she doesn't hear anything, she quickly turns and runs out of the alley. She runs the rest of the way home, only stopping when she's gotten inside and locked her door. ________________

"Fucking stupid!" Jungkook screams and throws the gun onto his bed. Why the hell did he hesitate? He never hesitates. He's shot dozens of people dead and he never blinked an eye. Why? Why now? This is the most paying job he's ever gotten and now he's fucked it up! He got distracted. That's all. If he hadn't spoken to that kid today or seen those stupid drawings, he wouldn't have messed up. "Ok, that's it," Jungkook growls and stomps over to the file sitting on his coffee table. It's been sitting there since Sunday a week ago. He grabs it and opens it angrily, a few papers spilling out and onto the floor. He doesn't bother cleaning them up. He just grabs the last one, the folded picture of the target. Jungkook unfolds it and glares at the image of the smiling girl. "I don't give a fuck why you're a target. I'm going to fucking kill you on Monday and that's it!" Then he tears the picture in half. He tosses it onto the coffee table and slumps down onto his couch, mentally exhausted. _______________ Jungkook spends Sunday holed up in his apartment. He's never been so pissed at himself before. No more distractions. If he doesn't get this done tomorrow, he doesn't know what he'll do. This hit is driving him insane. The only time he leaves his apartment is when Hoseok knocks and asks him to come over for dinner. As much as he would rather do anything but that, he agrees with a plastered smile. Jungkook sits at Hoseok's dining table awkwardly as his neighbor plates up the fried rice he made and hands a plate to him. "Thank you." Jungkook takes it and his stomach growls the second he smells the food. This is the first homecooked meal he's had in...well as long as he can remember. Suddenly, there's a knock on the door, and Hoseok laughs, "Oh, I almost forgot! I hope you don't mind, I invited some more of my friends over." Jungkook shakes his head, "I don't mind at all." When Hoseok opens the door, Jungkook sees a tall handsome man with broad shoulders and black hair walk in. He's taken by surprise by the man's beauty for a split second before he snaps out of it and sees another man walk in. This one is shorter and his hair is bleached blonde. The first man has a huge smile on his face and the second looks like his face has been set into a permanent look of uninterest. "Hi! You must be Jungkook!" The taller man says happily, reaching a hand out to shake Jungkook's. The younger man nods, "Yes, I am." "I'm Seokjin! And this is Yoongi." The handsome man turns and points at the blonde. Yoongi nods and sends Jungkook a small smile. "Nice to meet you," Jungkook responds politely, trying not to be awkward as hell. The only person he's really spoken to as an acquaintance for years is Hoseok, and he's only known him a little less than a year. Dinner goes by rather smoothly and the food is delicious, but Jungkook is grateful when he finally steps back into his own apartment. He's usually good at faking with people, part of his job is to charm people and put all suspicion off of himself. Tonight was different though, he felt exposed and like he couldn't put up a facade with those men. He takes a long hot shower, trying to wash away all the stress from the past week. When he's out of the shower and in his shorts, Jungkook crawls into bed and turns out the light. He blankly stares into the darkness for a while, trying not to let his brain run rampid so he can sleep. But he thinks back to the dinner a little while ago, anyway. Seokjin and Yoongi were nice, and Hoseok has always been kind to him. But, Jungkook feels uncomfortable, he feels off. He just isn't cut out for friends. He's a killer. That's all he is and that's all he'll ever be. And killers are meant to be alone. ______________ Jungkook sighs as he sits on the bench in front of the school. Hopefully, this will be the last day he has to do this. The girl had already gone into the kindergarten hours ago, it's nearing the end of the school day. All he has to do is tough it out until tonight. If the girl doesn't stay out till dark, he'll just have to lure her out of her apartment later somehow. He'll figure that out when he comes to it. The bell rings and Jungkook gets up to buy a paper from the old man that he's become quite acquainted with this past week. The two of them chat it up a bit as Jungkook watches the school doors. Eventually, he sees the girl leading a long line of kids out the front doors and down into the grass to wait to be picked up. It takes a little longer than usual, but finally, all the kids are gone and the girl goes back inside. When she comes out and starts walking down the street, Jungkook follows on the other side. As he walks he keeps an eye on her, but that means he isn't looking ahead. "Umph!" Jungkook jumps back in surprise when he sees a little old woman glaring at him after he ran into her. "Oh, sorry. I'm sorry." Jungkook bows his head in apology and the old woman nods curtly before walking around him. He looks back across the street, only to groan at seeing the girl is nowhere to be seen. "Not again." Jungkook moans in dismay. Then he jumps a mile high when he feels someone tap his shoulder. "Excuse m-me, sir." Jungkook turns and his heart stops in his chest when he sees the wide eyes of a horribly familiar girl staring up at him. She's clutching a piece of paper in her hands as a smile spreads on her face when she looks at him closer. Jungkook blinks a few times, the rest of him frozen in horror at being caught. "Th-This is for you." She holds out the paper. Jungkook takes it limply, his eyes never leaving hers. When the initial shock leaves his body, Jungkook tears his eyes away from the girl and looks down at what she gave him. He squints in confusion at what he sees. Then he looks back up at his target. What the hell is this?

_____________________________

a/n: I hope you guys like this one. I wasn’t sure how I felt about it at first. Let me know what you think <3

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falcqns · 4 years ago

Text

Mute

Pairing: Chris Evans x Mute!Reader

Summary: You meet Chris for the first time and he doesn’t know you’re mute. All hell breaks loose.

Warnings: angst, chris being an accidental asshole, fluff, sebastian stan being protective

A/N: I based this on a dream I had, as well as my experience with being a selective mute from 2017-2020, and how I communicated and who I spoke verbally to. Hope you enjoy!

Sebastian was shocked when he met you in pre-production for the first post-endgame Marvel movie, and you didn’t speak, instead nodding and using hand gestures that he later deciphered to be sign language. He knew that you were fairly new to the industry, and so approached Joe Russo.

“Hey, Joe. I just had a question about the new girl, Y/N?” He asked, while watching you walk of with your PA next to you. “Sure, what’s up?” Joe responded.

Sebastian cleared his throat before continuing. “I tried talking to her a little bit, but she didn’t speak, instead she used sign language, and I just was wondering if you knew why? Just so I can be better prepared and know how to help her,”

Joe smiled at Sebastian’s request. Being the insanely caring person that Seb was, his question didn’t surprise him. “She’s a selective mute. She does talk, but it is only when she is acting, and she’s an amazing actor. She mentioned to me that she doesn’t speak verbally unless she is very close to the person and trusts them wholeheartedly, such as her family and best friends. Her PA is her best friend, and can help you communicate with her. But, other than that, just get to know her. She’ll probably open up to you.” Joe finished, before patting Seb on the back, and walking off to talk to some production people.

Sebastian looked in the direction that you had gone, and decided to talk to you. You may not communicate verbally with him, but he wanted to get to know you.

Over the next few weeks of pre-production, both Sebastian and Anthony got to know you, and both were insanely shocked when you performed your first scene with them. You delivered your lines like you had been talking all your life, and with the gravity of an experienced actor. They both congratulated you, and you signed “thank you” in response. If any one had any doubts about your skills as an actor before, they had fully dissipated.

When it had been announced that production would be moving to the UK, Seb approached you and Mackie with the idea of renting a place together. You had agreed instantly, glad that you wouldn’t be living on your own in a foreign country all alone, especially since Y/B/F/N couldn’t come along. Living with both boys was chaotic to say the least, but you wouldn’t trade it for the world. They gave you the biggest bedroom in the house, and began learning sign language so you wouldn’t have to carry your ipad everywhere for your text-to-speech app.

A few weeks in, you began to speak verbally to both boys. They were shocked when you spoke to them for the first time, but were insanely happy. Seb was almost in tears, recalling that you only spoke to those who you trusted whole heartedly. He had become insanely protective of you, and treated you like a sister, which you absolutely loved.

Everything was going great. That was, until Chris Evans showed up.

He had just finished filming his latest project, and decided to come and visit his two closest friends that he hadn’t seen in a few months. Mackie had mentioned that he was coming, and would be staying in the spare bedroom, and you foolishly assumed that he would tell Chris about your mutism.

But Mackie being Mackie, he didn’t. And neither did Seb, who also thought Mackie had told him.

You hid in your room when Chris arrived, not ready to face him at that point. You ventured out just after dinner time, and grabbed a plate of food before retreating back into your safe haven with the cover of working on an assignment that you had told to Seb. They bought it, and you and Chris made eye contact and shared a wave before you disappeared from sight.

A few days later is when all hell broke loose.

Chris seemed to have a habit of searching you and Seb out. It started off with him walking into our bedroom while Seb was talking to you, and admiring how you’d decorated the place. Yo gave him a small shy smile, which he returned, although there was a hint of confusion written all over his face. Then, you were asking Sebastian for clarification on the Romanian lines that you were supposed to speak the next day, when Chris wandered in to the kitchen. He noticed how you instantly fell silent, and whispered a thank you to Sebastian before you scurried past him. How watched your back retreat, and sighed, but grabbed his the beer he came for before walking into the living room.

It was later that night that you had decided that you wanted to talk to Chris. You hadn’t known him very long, but you felt very safe around him, and everyone had told you how trustworthy he was. You had spent the last 30 minutes hyping yourself up in the mirror before walking out on a journey to find him. You heard his voice floating from the kitchen, and as you got closer, your heart instantly broke.

“I just don’t get what her problem is with me.” You heard Chris say. Another voice, Seb, responded.

“Chris, I don’t think she has a problem with you,”

Chris scoffed. “Yes she does. Why else would she not talk to me, and rush out of a room quicker than she entered when I walk in? She has a huge problem with me. I don’t know why she thinks that just because she got a part in a movie that she can walk around all high and mighty, but I’ve done nothing to her. She’s being a bitch,”

You heard Seb exclaim and start to defend you, but you didn’t stay to listen to what he said, instead running back to your room in tears, your confidence shattered. You grabbed your iPad and apple pencil, and began to draw, an activity that let you communicate your feelings. You wanted to show Chris that you didn’t hate him, and that you didn’t think more of yourself just because you got a part in a movie.

You finished it right before dinner, and kept it in your grip tightly when Mackie called you down for dinner. Your heart fluttered in your chest as you made your way down the stairs, but your face fell, and eyes welled up with tears when you saw Chris wasn’t there.

“Is Chris coming to dinner?” You asked Seb, and he shook his head no sadly.

“No. He’s not in the best mood, but dont worry, he’ll be fine.” He said, as he grabbed his plate.

“Oh, okay.” You said, your voice coming out shaky. You looked down at the ipad in your hands, before walking out the kitchen. Seb followed behind you. Just before you reached the stairs, he gripped your arm, causing you to turn around.

“What’s wrong?” He asked sincerely, and you couldn’t hold back the tears.

“I-I heard h-him talking about m-me earlier,” You whispered, and Seb cursed before pulling you into a hug.

“You heard him,” He said. You nodded before speaking again.

“I drew him a picture and I wanted to give it to him to show that what h-he said wasn’t t-true, and that I’m actually a huge fan of his,” You sobbed into his chest. Seb didn’t move, but waited for your tears to subside, before walking with you upstairs.

“He’ll come around. He had a rough night, although that doesn’t excuse his behaviour. I’ll talk to him, okay?”

You nodded, and curled up in bed. “Do you want me to bring you up some dinner?” Seb asked, and you nodded again, before telling him what you wanted.

He left the room, and came down the stairs. he plated the food that you wanted, and grabbed a water bottle out of the fridge.

“What happened?” Anthony asked from the dining room as Seb passed.

“She heard what Evans said, and she’s heartbroken. I’m bringing her dinner, and then I’m gonna talk some sense into that motherfucker.”

“Good, he needs it.” Anthony agreed, watching as Seb walked away.

Seb dropped the food off to you, before walking across the hall to Chris’s room. He answered after the first knock.

“What’s up?”

“First of all, you’re a grade A asshole, and second of all, you need to go apologize to Y/N.” Seb said, anger bubbling in his voice.

“Why? She hates me, I’ve done nothing to her to-“ Chris began before Seb interrupted him.

“SHE DOESN’T HATE YOU!” He exclaimed. “She’s selectively mute, that’s why she doesn’t speak to you! She’s a huge fan of you. She’s in her bedroom, right now, heartbroken, because she heard you talking about her.” Seb finished, his hand pointing at your bedroom door.

Chris felt his heart sink. “Why does she talk to you, but not me?”

Seb sighed. “She only talks to people she trusts a lot, and you met her yesterday. Of course she’s not gonna talk to you right away, and now I’m afraid she never will because you talked bad about her. She drew you a picture in hopes that you would understand that she didn’t hate you, but you broke her heart even more by not showing up at dinner. Now, go and fix it or will not hesitate to call your mother.” Seb finished, before walking away.

Chris sat back down on his bed in disbelief. He’d fucked up, and he didn’t know how to fix it. He thought back to Seb’s threat, before picking up his phone and calling his mom.

You had just finished another episode of Criminal Minds, when a knock came to your bedroom door. You dragged yourself out of bed, and opened the door to reveal Chris. You felt tears welling up in your eyes, and kept them locked on the floor, in fear that he was going to yell at you, and repeat his earlier statements to your face.

“I’m sorry,” Chris breathed out. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

You slowly moved your eyes up to meet his, and he sucked in a breath when he saw your puffy eyes. “It’s ok.” You signed, and Chris shook his head no, before enveloping you into his arms.

He moved the two of your further into your bedroom, and shut the door behind him.

“It is NOT okay. In any way. I broke your fucking heart, Y/N. I have no excuse for what I said, and I want to make it up to you. Will you let me do that?” He asked, his face buried into the hair atop your head. You nodded and he pulled away from you. You grabbed your ipad, opened up your text to speech app, and typed in a sentence.

“Do you want to watch a movie with me?”

Chris nodded, and smiled, his thumb brushing over your cheek. “Of course. You pick.”

You led him over to the bed, and got in, and he climbed in the opposite side. You picked up the remote, and chose the movie “Swat: Under Siege”. Chris wrapped an arm around your shoulders, and pulled you close to him. You cuddled into his chest as the movies opening scene began to play.

About halfway through the movie, Chris tilted your chin up to look at him.

“I really am sorry. I hate that I said what I did. I just- Seb had told me all about you, and I had seen some of the leaked pictures from set, and all I wanted to do was impress you. When I thought you hated me, I couldn’t handle it, and I lashed out. I’m so so sorry about that.” He said, his thumb teaching over your cheekbone once more. “Also, Seb told me that you drew me a picture? Can I see it?” And you nodded.

You unlocked your ipad and opened the drawing app, clicking on the most recent one, before handing the device over to Chris.

His breath caught in his throat while he looked down at the picture you had drawn of him.

“T-that is amazing,” He said, tears coming to his eyes at the picture that you worked so hard to make of him. “You’re even more amazing than I thought.” He finished. “Thank you,” You signed, before thinking of a question.

You grabbed your iPad once more, and typed into your app.

“Why did you want to impress me?” Chris smiled at the sound of the robotic voice coming from the device.

“I was drawn to you. I dont know what is was, but I couldn’t get you off my mind. I had searched and searched to find another tv or movie you had been in, but nothing came up, and I was so shocked that you got such a big part right off the bat. But I was also insanely excited to see you perform. And when Seb and Mackie told me I could come and stay for a while, I was ecstatic to be able to get to know you, and that’s when I realized that I liked you.”

Your breath caught in your throat at his words. Did Chris Evans really just admit to having a crush on you?

“Now, I understand if you dont like me back, but I had to get that off my chest, especially since I just broke your heart.” Chris said, his eyes focused on the tv to not meet your gaze. You gave him a small smile, but grasped his chin into your hand, and drew his lips into a soft and tender kiss.

He let out a breathy moan, and pulled you closer. His lips travelled from your lips, and all over your face, amking you let out a giggle. He started laughing too, and pulled away. “I’m guessing this means that you like me too?” He asked, and you nodded immediately.

He smiled, and grasped your hand in his. “Well then, can I take you on a date?”

You took a deep breath, and opened your mouth. “Yes.”

Chris’s eyes immediately welled up with tears and he pulled you in for another kiss.

“You spoke to me,” He whispered when he pulled apart, a few tears rolling down his face.

You shrugged and gave him a smile.

“I trust you wholeheartedly.”

#chris evans fluff #chris evans x reader #chris evans #chris evans angst #chris evans x reader fluff #sebastian stan #anthony mackie

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bastillewolf · 4 years ago

Note

Hey I know you probably have like a billion requests already but maybe you could do something where the reader is good friends with corpse (maybe with some unspoken feelings) and they ask him to visit their country side home lmao-

I'm really embarrassed about asking this and I know it sounds strange but being out in the country side can be really good for mental health and I just want this boi to heal--

I'm so sorry hahah

Thanks

That’s not strange at all, darling!! I love this ask! I’m so sorry it took me so long to answer this, my mental health hasn’t been very good lately. I suppose I found this ask rather appropriate and I guess that’s why I liked writing it so much. Hope you enjoy!

Sunrise, Sunset - Oneshot

Pairings: Corpse Husband / Reader.

“Yo,” is the first thing you hear as you open your Discord. It’s not his regular greeting, and he sounds more tired than usual.

“What’s up?” you asked curiously. “Everything okay? Haven’t talked to you in a while.”

“I know, I’m sorry. I got really busy.”

“I can tell from your voice,” you chuckled. It had more of a rasp to it- if that was even possible.

“Yea, I can’t do too much for too long. I love that I’m able to work on music now, but it exhausts my voice so much that I can’t even stream sometimes.”

“Maybe you should take a break,” you comment.

“Probably. It’s almost done, so then I can stream more,” he replies.

“That’s not what I meant.”

“Hm?”

“I’m talking about an actual break, from everything.”

You hear him exhale deeply as if he’d already been considering it himself. “That does sound very nice.”

“I know, I always have the best ideas.”

“You do, except you forgot about the fact that I can’t really go anywhere. I mean, I’d love to take a break, but if I just sit here at home, I’m gonna either end up doing nothing or start working anyways. I don’t see me relaxing that way.”

“I didn’t forget about anything; I just hadn’t gotten to that part yet.”

“Oh?”

You’d be lying if you said that noise didn’t make you blush. “Remember how I said I live in the countryside? You know, it’s quite cosy here, and I have a guest bedroom to spare. If you want, but only if you’re comfortable with it, you could come over.”

It was quiet for a moment and your poor nerves were wondering if you’d said something completely wrong. You knew how he was about his privacy, but you’d figured that having known each other for a more than a few months now, you’d be at a point where you’d become actual friends, especially considering you always talked over Discord. At least, when he wasn’t busy.

“I... You wouldn’t mind?” he asked softly.

“Of course not!” You immediately replied, trying your best to make him feel as welcome as possible. “It’ll be so much fun! I was just worried you wouldn’t feel comfortable with it, otherwise, I would’ve invited you over a lot sooner.”

“Really?” he asked.

“Yes! I’m always looking for people to take care of my chickens.”

“You have chickens?” he sputtered.

“Sure do. And that was a joke, by the way.”

He didn’t really give you much time to prepare. He’d instantly asked if he could come over in two days, which meant you had to clean, do the groceries, and have another mental breakdown within that short time.

When he did arrive at your relatively small but homely cottage, you knew that even if you’d had more time, you still wouldn’t have felt like you’d prepared enough. You were incredibly nervous, especially as the cab slowed to a nerve-wracking speed until it finally stopped in front of your little wooden fence that really couldn’t keep anyone out of your garden because it was so ramshackle.

You nod your head to the driver politely, who got out of the car to unload a bag from the trunk. Then, the door opened, ringed fingers sliding across the yellow polish on the metal framing. He pulled himself up and out, finally allowing you to take a good look at his face.

His hair was dark and curly, as to be expected from what you’d seen in the pictures, though you could barely see it underneath the hood he’d pulled up. His dark brown eyes immediately found yours, and a shy smile graced his lips, which you bashfully returned with a small wave. It made you want to hit yourself multiple times. He paid the cabby and thanked him, allowing you to take a good look at his attire, at his frame, at his whole being. He was wearing a black hoodie with some chains around it, along with dark baggy trousers and, go figure, black sneakers. He was slightly slouching, probably so the driver wouldn’t be able to make out his face in its entirety, but overall he looked lean, even while his face was more pale and tired, with dark circles surrounding his eyes.

He locked the creaky wooden fence behind him, quickly closing the distance between you two with only a few strides. He dropped his backpack on the floor, saying, “hi.” “Hey,” you replied with that stupid smile still on your face and now quite possibly a hint of red dusting your cheeks. He just chuckled at the slight awkwardness of the situation, before wrapping his arms around you in a warm hug. He smelled like nice cologne, and he gave really good hugs. It said a lot that you could tell that from just the one. “Thanks for letting me come over,” he muttered, finally allowing himself to sound as exhausted as he looked.

“I told you, it’s nothing.”

When you met his eyes again as he pulled back, you knew he was quietly telling you that it meant more to him than that. Feeling shy under his dark gaze, you shook your head, saying, “Come on, let me show you around.”

It wasn’t that big of a tour, but it was home and it was comfortable, so you never felt embarrassed about it. You made enough money, to be fair, from your career through YouTube, but you’d never really had the heart to leave the house. At least you had a guest bedroom, and the garden was something to dream of. To trade that in for a bit more storage space would be such a pity.

“-and this is going to be your room, for however long you wish to stay,” you finish with a flourish of your hand. He set his suitcase down on the freshly made bed and nodded, glancing around for a bit before his eyes landed back on you. “Did I tell you how much I appreciate you doing this for me?”

You huff, “Once or twice now.”

“I’ll be off your back in a few days, don’t worry. I think I just needed to get out of my stuffy apartment for a bit.”

“Stay as long as you’d like,” you told him assuredly, “I know how stressful it can be and I haven’t even been through what you have. I can’t imagine what it must be like.”

He shrugs, “I have my ups and downs. It’s mostly my health issues and anxiety holding me back.”

“Well, I hope you can relax a bit here, then. People seem to feel more at ease without a bustling city around them,” you said.

He glanced out the window and nodded. “Yeah, I immediately noticed it as I got out of the car. It’s so... quiet here. And the air, of course. It’s so much nicer.”

“I usually take walks in the early mornings. You should come along sometime if you’d like. The sunrise is always really pretty when you get up on the hill.”

The corners of his lips quirked up. “I’d like that.”

“Great,” you replied, clapping your hands together, “I’ll let you get settled and start dinner. The uh- the bathroom is shared, I left a stack of towels on the rack so you can use those.”

“Thanks, I really appreciate it.”

You nodded shyly, silently closing the door behind you as you stepped into the hall. You let out a deep sigh and leaned back against the wall, pressing the backs of your hands against your cheek in a vain attempt to cool down the heat and tone down the redness. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d reacted this way but the times you’d spend talking about everything and nothing with Corpse through Discord calls that lasted until the early mornings. You knew you shouldn’t be feeling this way. You didn’t want to risk the friendship you had with him, but the tingling that had sprouted in your gut the moment he’d gotten out of that car told you that this was going to be hard.

You knocked on his door quietly, afraid you were accidentally going to wake him when he didn’t want to be awoken. You didn’t know what kind of morning person he’d be, but he told you yesterday that he wanted to join you for your walk today. And while you were going to leave half an hour later than usual because it took you that long to work up the courage to knock on his door, meaning you were going to have to hurry a bit to catch the sun rising, you were still scared he was going to react grouchily. But when he opened the door, already dressed and ready to go, you realized you’d foolishly forgotten that this wasn’t just anyone, but that this was one of your friends; someone you already knew, even if it hadn’t been physically. Of course, he’d open the door with a smile, even though he looked more tired than the day before, which worried you.

“How did you sleep?” You made it evident in your tone that you were rather scared to ask the question, but it made him chuckle.

“I think you already know the answer to that. I don’t sleep well in general, so don’t worry. It has nothing to do with the bed or your hospitality.”

“Well, if there’s anything I can do for you, I don’t mind being woken up.”

He shook his head as he followed you downstairs and out the front door. “To be fair, I slept more than I usually would, but your rooster woke me up.”

You laughed, “Yea, I’m sorry, but I can’t do anything about that.” You held the wooden fence gate open for him, following him to the grass field until you were walking next to him. You silently picked up your pace a bit, worrying that you might miss the sunrise when you had promised it to him.

“I know, I know,” he replied amusedly, “Can we go see them later? The chickens?”

“Sure,” you smiled, “I also have a few ducks. You’ll love them, they’ll try to rip the shoelaces from your feet.”

“Sounds great.”

The walk to the hill wasn’t too far, but the hill was quite steep, which was always an exercise for people who walked with you for the first time, so you’d figured he’d start trailing behind you after some time. Thing is, he started trailing behind relatively earlier than you had expected him to.

Glancing back over your shoulder, you called out, “you good? We’re almost there.”

He nodded, though you could see him slightly panting, and you turned around to jog up the last bit until you reached the top. You could see a sliver of light start to peek over the horizon, making you glance back to see how far away he was.

But instead of having moved forward, he was now sort of slouched over, holding his stomach as he panted loudly. “Shit,” you cursed yourself as you sprinted back down until you skidded to a stop in front of him. “Are you okay? I’m so sorry, I should have slowed down-“

“It’s fine,” he waved you off, slowly catching his breath. “I can do it, I just take a bit longer.”

“I’ll carry you if I have to. I got us into this mess.”

He chuckled, but it sounded a bit hoarse.

“Come on,” you said. He furrowed his brow in confusion but followed you anyway. Walking along the side of the hill was tricky, but you made it around without any issues. He was able to keep up this time and gratefully plopped down on the grass beside you, just in time to watch the sun fully appear from behind the horizon.

“Holy shit,” he breathed.

“Yea, it never really gets old.” You laid down, feeling twigs of grass tickle the bareback of your neck.

He joined you, scooting a bit closer until your arms were brushing against each other. You couldn’t tell if he’d done it on purpose, so you acted like it hadn’t affected you, keeping your eyes fixed on the sky above you. At least, you tried. They flickered when you felt fingertips graze across your lower arm until they reached your palm, where his nails slowly dragged along your skin until his warm digits intertwined with yours. His rings felt cool against the heat and tingling you were suddenly feeling in your hand. He didn’t let go of you, not as you laid there for what seemed like hours, nor during the entire walk back.

‘Is this what friends do?’ you were silently asking yourself, watching the ducks try to free his shoes from its laces, ‘is this what friends do when they need support? Is this his way of coping, or is it-‘ You quickly shook the thought away. Of course, he wouldn’t think of you that way. He probably did stuff like this with all his friends. You knew how playful he could get, his guy friends included.

Yeah, it was just that. It had to be.

You were both laid back on the couch that night, stuffed to the brink with the famous lasagne you’d put together. The TV was on, but it sounded more like static noise in the background. “I think I can just fall asleep right here,” you hummed. The glass of red wine you’d shared – because neither of you could handle liquor – had created a pleasant buzz between the two of you.

“That seems a lot less comfortable than your bed.”

“You don’t know a thing about my bed,” you huffed indignantly.

It was quiet for a moment then, a sliver of tension seeping through the warmth of your home. “I think it’s probably about as comfortable as mine, otherwise you’re treating your guests too much,” he replied.

“I don’t know,” you admitted, “I’ve actually never slept in the guest bedroom. I might just be treating my guests too much and I’d never even know about it.”

He suddenly sat up and turned the TV off. “Come on,” he said and was already up the stairs by the time you’d made an attempt to move.

When finally reached the upstairs and were about to round the corner, you were suddenly picked up and slung over his shoulder, causing you to let out a loud shriek. “Corpse!” you laughed, “Please put me down!”

“You were taking too long,” he grumbled, dropping you down on the bed unceremoniously. He shuffled over until he was laying down next to you and lifted the covers up until it reached your neck.

“So?” he asked.

You had your eyes closed. “I might be treating my guests too much.”

He snorted. “Fucking knew it,” which made you laugh.

You laid there for quite a while, not really caring if either of you fell asleep with your regular clothes still on. “Hey Corpse?”

He hummed.

“I’m really glad you came. It gets lonely over here sometimes.”

He shifted, but because it was so dark you couldn’t really see what he was doing. Suddenly though, you felt him hovering over you, his elbows resting on either side of your face as his hand reached across to move a strand of hair to the side. He leaned down and hesitantly, his lips barely touched yours, a silent question if this was okay. You moved back against him, your hand finding his cheek in the darkness. His kisses were gentle, but passionate, which made your breaths heavier and deeper. When you pulled apart, you were both breathing heavily, mostly from the tension that had arisen.

“I really like you,” you admitted.

“Good,” he replied, wrapping his arms around you until you were tucked against his chest. You hit his arm playfully, “Cocky bastard.”

You hear the smirk in his voice as he said goodnight.

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