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whimsiwitchy · 5 months ago

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we broke up (one shot)

hugh jackman x f!reader

summary: you get dragged to a work event by your boyfriend of three years when Hugh comes to flirt with you. after you reluctantly tell him you’re taken, he backs off for the most part. a few months later, Hugh tells the story during an interview but little does he know you’re single now.

warnings: implied age gap (not mentioned), flirting while in a relationship (kinda)

authors note: here's a little oneshot I wrote tonight. enjoy <33

You’d been with your boyfriend, Rowan, for a few years now. He earned a degree in marketing and immediately got a job for a studio. While he enjoys his job and it brings in good money, the events he dragged you to were unbelievably boring. The company he worked for always had big parties after a success on a project. At first they were interesting, often running into celebrities here and there given that it was the success of their movie, but lately you found yourself sitting at the bar more often than not. It was routine at this point. Rowan would show you off for the first hour, then he would toss you aside to fend for yourself. You weren’t the biggest social butterfly, hence why you liked to sit alone, drinking.

Tonight wasn’t any different. You were at another party for the successful marketing for Deadpool and Wolverine. You’d heard a few whispers that the stars of the movie themselves were somewhere wandering around but you hadn’t had the pleasure of seeing them. Rowan dumped you at the bar a little over thirty minutes ago and you’ve been sipping on some fruity little drink ever since, completely in your own world. You made small talk with the bartender every once and a while but you were mainly people watching.

“Mind if I join?” A deep Australian accent asks. You look up and see a gorgeous older man. He was wearing a dark blue suit with a pair of black expensive looking glasses. He was deliciously tall and had a thich salt and pepper beard. “Uh no, go ahead.” He sits in the bar stool next to you. He orders a drink from the bartender before returning his attention back to you. “Pardon me if this is too forward but you are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.” The comment takes you aback. “Oh um, thank you. That’s really sweet of you to say.” He looks down to your glass that’s nothing but melted ice at this point. “Can I buy you another drink?” He asks. “You probably shouldn’t. I’m taken…sadly.” You whisper the last part, unsure if he heard it or not. “Oh! I apologize for coming on to you. You’ve been sitting here by yourself for so long, I thought you might have come alone.” You huff out a laugh. “My boyfriend works for the company. He’s out there socializing or whatever.” You shrug and signal to the bartender, asking for another drink. “That’s a shame. If you were mine, you’d be on my arm all night.” He smirks. “Is that right?” You smile at him. Before he can answer, you feel your phone vibrate with a text from Rowan that reads ‘where are you babe? Time to leave.’

“Well, the boyfriends calling, I gotta go.” You carefully climb out of the chair and grab your jacket and purse off of the back. As you start to walk away, the man speaks again. “Wait! What’s your name?” You turn back to face him. “Y/n.” He smiles and repeats it. “I’m Hugh.” His answer surprises you. “Oh! Congrats on the movie. I didn’t even recognize you at first with the beard and all.” He laughs. “Bye Hugh.” You wave before walking off.

—

It’s been a few months since that night in July, it being September now. You and Rowan had broken up mid-August, both of you agreeing that the relationship wasn’t going anywhere. It hurt for a little bit but you knew it was for the best. Living with him had been awkward as you searched for a new place, deciding that he can keep the current apartment. You wanted a fresh start, which is where you are now. Tonight was your first night in your new apartment. You didn’t have any furniture yet but you were happy. You bought an air mattress to make do until you could afford an actual bed.

It was around midnight and you were doing your nightly youtube watch. You were scrolling through your recommended videos when you saw Hugh’s face pop up. It was an interview posted a few minutes ago from him on some late night show you’d never heard of. You clicked on it, wanting to hear what the man was up to these days. The interview was a standard one, mostly questions on his upcoming movie about some sheep. You weren’t really paying attention, close to dozing off when a question peaked your interest.

“So Hugh, it’s almost been a year since the announcement of your divorce and the fans wanna know…How’s your dating life doing? Are you seeing anyone?” The woman asks, wiggling her eyebrows. Hugh lets out a big laugh. “I’m actually not seeing anyone. It’s funny you ask because the last time I even attempted to flirt with a woman she turned me down.” The interviewer's eyebrows shoot up in shock. She gasps before asking, “How could anyone turn you down? We need to know the full story here.”

“Ryan and I were at this party for the marketing team that worked on Deadpool and Wolverine and I saw this absolutely gorgeous girl sitting at the bar all alone.” The interviewer is nodding her head, engaging with every word Hugh says. “I eyed her for a while to see if anyone was with her but she sat there alone for a good thirty minutes before Ryan hyped me up to go over there. When I finally did, I ordered a drink and tried to play it cool but I felt the urge to tell this girl how stunning she was, so I did.” You giggle to yourself and you hear him tell the story from his point of view. “She thanked me and I offered to buy her another drink. I kid you not, in the prettiest voice I’ve ever heard she says ‘you probably shouldn’t, i’m taken.’” His hands go up to his chest, gripping right above his heart. “My heart broke mate. I flirted a little more in true Hugh fashion but she had to go. I haven’t been able to get her out of my head since.”

“What a lucky woman, I’m sure she regrets it.”

“Hey, I tried my best.” He shrugs before looking at the camera. “Y/n, if you ever break up with him. I’m all yours baby.”

Your jaw drops, the sound of cheers blasting from your phone.

‘we broke up. I’m all yours. @/RealHughJackman’

You hit send on the tweet and hoped it would be enough to bring him back to you.

thank you for reading <3

#hugh jackman #hugh jackman x reader #hugh jackman fanfiction #hugh jackman fic #hugh jackman fanfic #hugh jackman x female reader #hugh jackman x you #hugh jackman x younger!reader #hugh jackman oneshot #hugh jackman x y/n #hugh jackman imagines

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jazjelspen · 1 year ago

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my angel baby

(alastor w/ angel daughter reader)

[caution!!: EPISODE 8 & 6 SPOILERS. NOT PROOFREAD]

(notes: alastor joins charlie and vaggie in heaven to convince them about the hazbin hotel. angel reader physically resembles a fawn. )

(right now this is considered a oneshot, unless there is a very high demand for a part 2 I'll happily make another one for funzies!)

(PART 2 IS OUT!!!)

(also apologies if alastor's last name isnt actually altruist LMAo I kinda just wrote it assuming so 😭 )

You made it to heaven, lucky you.

Heaven was surely a treat, you lived your days with the upmost happiness, the light of heaven shining on your skin with kisses as if praising you for your goodness and your sacrifices,

all your sacrifices.

You were currently taking the job over for St. Peter at the gates of heaven for just a few minutes to await for any wondering souls to appear, to help guide them while he came back from a lunch break. Normally they wouldn't allow a human soul like yourself with little experience in this kind of task to take charge of such an important job, but you were close to many of the high ranking angels and you have proved your proficiency in tasks that you set your mind to, so you were glad to help those in need.

You stood there reading through the millions of pages looking over all kinds of names, all seemed like names that you wouldn't normally hear back in your time when you died. Some you liked, others didn't exactly pique your interest much, but the advancement of names since the 1930s surely proved how much times have changed and how quickly time seems to pass in heaven.

You wonder if it is in hell too.

'Hell?..' you wondered as you shook your head and sighed, your mind has been on that place lately and you wondered if it was even worth the rent free space in your mind.

You were currently slouched over the book and decided to close it with a glum look on your face, your elbows now resting on the golden podium and your hands cupping your face.

Geez, and you've been thinking a lot about your old man.

What-- no wait-

You shouldn't call him your old man, let alone your dad, not even father, pops-- not even by his damn name.

Even so, as much as you hated it.. you couldn't help but still use his last name sometimes since it's what you were given when you were first taken in.

Your last name?.. why, you're forgetting already?

_____ Altruist is who you a---

"HELLO??"

You snapped out of your thoughts as your head slipped from under your palms, face planting onto the cover of the enormous book. In embarrassment you snapped your head back up and your wings followed suit, spreading open behind you in shock as your eyes searched for the voice that called out to you from below.

You finally darted down to see three oddly shaped figures, your panicked vision soon relaxing to see two girls and a man dressed in red from tip to toe.

How peculiar.

Your eyes only set on the girl at the moment since she was the one waving at you and basically begging for your attention.

"Hello hello! uh.. Down here!" The girl with long locks of pale yellow hair waved, her smile widening when seeing she's caught your attention.

"Ah- yes yes! Hello hello! Welcome to Heaven! May I.. uh-" you scrambled nervously to open the book in the middle of it, "May I have your name please?"

She nodded, also returning a bit of a shy attitude back "Yes of course! My names Charlie Morningstar!"

Just like that you flicked the pages to go to the names that sounded similar to the girl's, mumbling her name under your breath as your finger traced down each name on the list.. to your dismay you couldn't find it.

"You don't seem to be on the list ma'am.. how weird.. does this usually happen with St. Peter?.." you spoke in concern, mumbling the last part to yourself.

The girl then started to explain something about her dad getting her a meeting, your mind a little clouded still trying to find her name until you heard the forbidden name that no one inside the pearly gates ever attempted to say out loud.

"-- maybe try, Lucifer.. Morning...star-"

And just like that you slammed the book closed, no words coming out of your mouth but an exasperated look of shock freezing your face.

"Oh-hoho... that explains so much--" you gave her a small sheepish smile, awkwardly looking off to the side where your eyes couldn't help but drag themselves to the man dressed in red.

"Miss you don't think.. you could've..." your eyes at first looked at the man's waist, his coat lightly shredded at the ends and the stripes of the long suit guided your eyes upwards "-gotten..." up and up and your eyes met his. The red eyes, the ears, the small horns, the horrific aura, and..

Oh dear, you'd recognize that damned smile anywhere.

"--lost..?" the end of your sentence dragged on, taking a long while to finish since all you could think about is how this man is at the front door step of the place he shouldn't even be considered in being let to enter.

Alastor, your father from the living realm. Not connected by blood but by life and connection.

The man where you got your last name from by being taken in and called his daughter.

The red deer demon seemed to recognize you as well, a spark in his devilish eyes proved it so, but it was very brief since he more or less also seemed to relish the look on your face with his smile stretched further up.. however further up it could get.

Charlie seemed concerned at your reaction, waving her hand in front of your face gently as if to get you out of this trance. "Heyyy... are you okay?.." she asked with genuine worry until all of you were focused away from this bizarre moment when a set of three angels befell before you all. The two seraphims and finally-- St. Peter off from his break.

"_____. We can take it from here, we appreciate the help." The highest and oldest seraphim announced your name and her appreciation while gliding down a bit more earlier than the blonde angel you covered for, she and the younger seraphim's forms going from their true to more human-like appearances.

"_____! My dear friend thank you so much for covering for me, always a real helper you!" St. Peter popped beside you as he praised you while gently flying beside you, you looked up at him with a small nervous smile before opening your own wings to flap down from his podium and let him get back on the job.

"It's no problem at all, you know me! Always.. happy to help.." you spoke your last words to him before your wings gently took you down to set yourself beside another one of your friends, Emily! You never talked much to Sera that wasn't in a formal setting but Emily seemed so easy to get along with. She gave you a tight squeeze of a hug while saying hello which eased your nerves a bit more, of course they never fully disappeared with the man who ruined everything before you let out your last breath.. standing right in front of you.

The man that brought you up here in the first place.

The seraphims introduced themselves to the three residents of hell, the deer demon more quiet until finally finding a spot of silence to jump in and introduce himself as well.

"Why hello, a real pleasure meeting you two quite the pleasure! Never thought I'd ever get to see an angel up this close in my life HAHA! The names Alastor!"

The voice, the radio static over it, his name.

It was him, you recognized it as if you listened to him on the radio just yesterday, your own personal hell.

Whatever reaction or words the higher ranked angels said seemed to fizzle out of your brain as they were replaced with the memories of your last moments on earth.

------------------------------------------------------------------

"Father!" you screamed as you ran up to your childhood home, the home to which you were raised and kept in, your home in which you lived in with your father, Alastor Altruist.

For sometime you had suspected foul play when it came to your father's weird actions when the night came, the tone he spoke through his radio show when announcing several murders happening across and haunting New Orleans. You just didn't want to truly believe that the man that found you, a poor little orphaned baby, and raised you would do such disgusting and diabolical crimes.

You couldn't believe it.. until you finally saw it.

Your legs scrambled and fought each step to become faster, finally reaching the door of your home you slammed it open with a strong kick after jiggling the doorknob didn't work.

You knew the next murder he would commit would happen in your home.. you thanked whatever force that made you disobey him and look through his study since if you didn't you wouldn't know that right now there was blood to be shed.

The door opening and with your kick full of adrenaline and panic it made the door barley cling onto it's hinges. There your father was, on top of a wounded man that seemed to be gurgling and gasping to breathe as the victim attempted to claw at Alastor's grasp. Pieces of glass and wood broken across the entire floor, walls bloodied and worn out, pictures that hung neatly now cracked and lopsided or shattered on the floor.

Whatever happened in here, the victim was sure a fighter in the beginning.

You immediately without hesitation with full force pushed Alastor off the man, pulling the bloodied stranger by his wrist. The victim and you stared for a moment, him mostly realizing that he's being saved by a young girl like you. His lips parted to thank you but you could see Alastor raise his kitchen knife in the air and sprinted toward him to stab him on the back.

With no words left to share or spill you grabbed the stranger by the shoulders and with all your might pushed him and yourself away so that in the end Alastor ended up stabbing nothing but air.

Alastor grunted in frustration, his bloodied smile yet never faltering despite the challenge you now gave him.

The man snapped his head at you, eyes fixated at you before snapping back to his victim and raising his knife up once more, in a haunting motion his steps creeped and creaked towards the injured New Orleans citizen stricken with fear and terror.

Just like that, Alastor slams his knife down with no hesitation. The knife fully in his prey with no inch of the blade uncovered.

Oh-- wait.

That shriek, the sobs, the shaky breathing and the coughs of blood.. that wasn't his victim.

It was you.

His daughter, he stabbed his daughter.

For a moment you could see his crazed smile falter, the humane part of him uncovering itself for a moment, for you.

His little girl was covered in her blood because of him, the little baby he found on that cold rainy day is dying because of him, his bundle of joy that he took years to take care of is leaving him.. and it's all his fault.

He didn't know it was you-- he didn't know you'd be that stupid to sacrifice yourself for some random prick.

He didn't know that in the end, someone as evil as him could have raised someone as selfless as you.

"p..papa..?" you whimpered, your painful coughs of blood spilling out and going down your chin and your neck. "It hurts-- g.. it hurts so much papa.." you cried as the knife in your chest seemed to feel as if it was melting into your skin, becoming one with you. It obviously wasn't but the pain was just that painful.

Alastor's smile faltered and kept trying to stay up, his own set of tears falling down his face and onto your cheeks that were slowly losing life. Regret stabbing his own heart the way he did to yours. He let go of the knife and instead cradled you in his arms, just like how he used to when you would have nightmares as a little girl.

"Shh.. Shh.." he shush you softly as he gently patted your head, moving away any uneven strands of hair he could spot with his hands trembling in regret. "Little one.. don't worry about a thing, papa's here.. " he mumbled, the gentleness replacing what once was pure aggressiveness.

Your eyes slowly started to flutter closed, your pulse slowing down, breathing less profound, your limbs going limp, and your face.. contorting into a peaceful state of slumber.

Alastor watched as you passed in his arms, his faltering smile picking itself up once more to stretch itself across his face with tears pouring out his eyes. This wasn't a smile of joy, it was a smile to hide what he truly felt.. to lie to himself. "My little angel, forgive me please."

Those were his last words to you, words that in the end you couldn't hear.

And that man he tried to kill earlier? He escaped when he was given the chance, Alastor was sure the cops were to invade his home soon.. now there was just one thing left to do before he'd be found once again to pay the consequences.

He took your body to a beautiful forest filled with flower meadows. Alastor knew this was one of your favorite spots as a young girl, why not let you rest here.

Ah but as he was preparing to bury you in your final resting place... that darn deer hunter.

Well, you know the story. Mistaken for a deer, shot, that's the end of Alastor Altruist and his darling daughter, ______ Altruist.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

As you stood there you were awoken from your thoughts with the high angels escorting the princess and her other female companion into the gates of heaven, St. Peter welcoming them humbly with one of heaven's popular songs.

You were frozen, in shock. A chill went down your spine as you felt a foreign energy come closer.

You felt long fingers grapple themselves onto your shoulder which made you dramatically turn towards the hand and away from it.

Your father wanted to talk to you.

Your contrasting colors and appearances made this reunitement even more uncomfortable for you, his demon form seeming to match his disgusting self that he hid from the human world before.

His face was hard to read, especially with that signature smile of his that even in death he would never get rid of.

"Little one, my darling daughter.." he spoke, his voice seemingly trying to seem genuine but the radio filter over it made it feel condescending to you.. as if mocking you.

The look on your face was evident, you missed him so much but hated him with your entire being because of that hidden side he kept for years.

He continued "My little ____... out of all places I never thought I'd see you here. Oh but it's definitely much better than down under my little dove.."

Geez what was he even saying?? What were his intentions..?? You couldn't tell.. after all this time, you couldn't forgive this man, this serial killer, this demon, this.. monster. You couldn't.. not this soon anyways.

You took a deep inhale and exhale before fixing your posture and stance, trying to seem more professional and confident. "Sir, your hosts and companions are ahead of you. You wouldn't want to miss your introduction to a place you'll never see again after this day." Your voice stern and professional, trying your best to be void of emotion.

"Darling.. is that truly a way to greet your dear ol' father?" He spoke, hand stretched out while the other held onto his staff.

"Your friends are waiting on you, don't be late Alastor."

Just like that you turned your heel and gave him the cold shoulder, your wings spread and started flapping. Taking you up and away further into your home.. Alastor watched you as you left him once again, this time by choice.

Ah but he knew, he'd have his darling daughter back soon. His little angel that he cared for will forgive him.. he knew you had to.

With his grin widening even further he walked to catch up to the Princess of hell and her partner into the pearly gates, to see what other thing could entertain him while his daughter snapped back to her senses.

(hello!! thank you so much for reading I had a blast with this. as you can tell. once again thank you so much for reading! hope to see you soon! mwa mwa!)

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exocaliii · 1 month ago

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❦︎ You've Been Walking, You've Been Hiding

(pt. 1) (pt. 2)

| Kang No-eul / Guard 011 x fem!reader |

side! | Se-mi / Played 380 x fem!reader |

Summary: For six years, you've watched your best friend and only companion mourn a child she barely got to know. Now, you're given a chance to finally rid her of this lifelong guilt.

Word Count: 5.4k

Warnings: mentions of self harm, death, violence, angst, hurt/comfort, occasional use of Y/N even though I try my best to avoid it lol, some jealousy and yearning, very plot heavy guys no porn this time...

A/N: first fic yay!! it's incredibly plot heavy (like seriously look at the word count man I haven't even reached the Mingle game yet😭😭) and tbh i've already written most of pt 2 (which dives far more into the romance part), but please please lmk what you think so far!! :D seriously any comments or messages or whatever are appreciated!! this is the "I wrote this cuz no one else did" fic

—

It’s been nine years since you've met her, and she’s still the most beautiful woman you know.

Her head is tilted back, shallow breaths filling the silence. You don’t make a move until you see tears flow down her cheeks, and by the time she raises an arm to cover her face, you’re already by her side. There are no words or even glances shared as you use the sleeve of your jacket to wipe the tears off her cheek. Though, for a split second as your hand lowers, you swear you see her head tilt in your direction, and maybe you’re hallucinating it (god knows what could happen after two bottles of whatever hard liquor that was) but your eyes meet for a brief second.

It’s a bit too much for you, and you need this night to end. Besides, you had someone to meet. She knows that.

“It’s late, Eul.”

It’s an unspoken suggestion for her to drive you home, but she doesn’t move - just looks over at you with a heated gaze and that’s all it takes. Whatever emotion she was trying to express is unknown to you, but it’s familiar in a way that deeply disturbs you. You’re the last person she should be looking at like that.

“...Alright then,” you whisper, placing your head on her shoulder. She doesn’t react, but she doesn’t move to push you off either. You should leave. You both know this.

God, you’re pathetic.

—

250 million won.

Fucking scammers. Who could even pay that much?

Your meeting with the head of some shady smuggling group based in North Korea went… alright. They were willing to help, but less optimistic than the last. What really went wrong was the price they were charging to help search for No-eul’s baby. Even if you worked your current job for 16 hours a day for an entire year straight, you wouldn’t have enough.

The thought of seeing her hope dwindling once again made you want to pull your hair out.

Perhaps it was this heartache that made you call the number on that card.

—

She’s known about the games for six years.

She signed up to kill people every summer for five years.

Today is the first day she’s genuinely, completely thrown off guard.

When she twists the scope of her rifle, she almost accidentally fires a bullet straight into your face with a twitch of her hand. Even after leaning back and rubbing her face in exasperation at her own mind supposedly playing tricks on her, she leans back into the familiar pad of the rifle to see your face once again. You look the same as the last time she saw you, which was barely two days ago. The strain in your face, the fear that twists your expression into one she recognizes from seven years ago - God, what the fuck did you get yourself into?

She lets out a shaky breath and readjusts her grip, her nerves making her hands quiver just enough that she has to lean back again to roll her head to relieve some of the newfound tension in her neck. When she finally lays her cheek back against the rifle, she’s quick to refocus her attention to another player, one that 012 (or was it 010?) failed to kill. It’s a disgusting ordeal, but she deals with it the only way she knows how to, even as her mind wanders.

Survive this game, Y/N. Do not leave me behind.

—

All you can do is clutch the number on your chest - 037 - after what had just happened. After you watched a woman’s blood splatter onto a young man right next to you. After you watched him flinch and die moments later, right at your feet. It feels like a fever dream when money begins to drop into the piggy bank above the room, and you’re told each 100 million won added was somebody’s life.

That woman and the boy were, combined, only 200 million won to the pile. You want to vomit.

You drown out so much of it, but when you hear talk of money being passed out to the “winners” of the game you all just played, you’re disturbed to find it’s only reached about 75 million. You’re even more disturbed by your immediate desire for more, more money to fill the pig’s empty stomach (and more lives lost, apparently).

When it comes time to vote, you can’t bring yourself to care much about the man who claims he had played these games before. His pleas mean nothing to you, not when you have 250 million won to conjure up in the next month to continue the search for No-eul’s sweet daughter. You hesitate for only a split second before you hit the O, and you force yourself to drown out the fearful cries to your left as well as the howls from the hungry wolves to your right.

A blue patch is placed over your chest, but you do not cheer with the rest of your side.

—

When night comes, sleep refuses to come to you. It feels like a punishment now, especially as you look at the young girl just diagonal to you. 095. She shakes like a baby in her bed, and the red X on her sweater shows you why.

Have you damned this poor girl to death? Maybe even the kind old lady lying across from her?

The sick feeling in your gut prompts you to get up and head over to the side door. Three knocks prompts nothing but silence, but you refuse to give up so easily. With another set of knocks on the door, this time hard enough to make sure the guard on the other side (at least you hoped there was even anyone on the other side) heard you, you spoke up.

“I’m sorry, I don’t feel well, can I please-”

Without you saying another word, the door practically swings open.

Standing across from you is a pink guard with a triangle mask. The rifle at their side draws your attention immediately, and some paranoid part of your mind wonders if they only opened the door so they could shoot you for interrupting their quiet time. However, the guard surprisingly only takes a small step to the side after a strangely tense silence.

“...Thank you…”

You scuttle past them and immediately head to the bathroom. The moment you enter, you rush to the sink, turn on the faucet, and let a stream of icy cold water fall from your cupped hands onto your face. For a second, this helps your heart rate slow.

What brings it back up is the sound of the door opening, and what spikes it is the fact that it’s not a fellow player that walks into the silent bathroom, but the guard. Based on their height alone, you can tell it’s the same one. This is even more frightening somehow.

Did you do something wrong? Should you have just stayed in bed? Why did you pick-

“Why are you here?!” The guard’s raspy voice interrupts your thoughts. Her question (you now realize it’s a woman) was just barely quiet enough to not be considered a yell, but the frantic nature of it still makes you blank out. You’re so afraid that you end up completely missing the familiarity your body feels at the sound of her voice.

“I-I’m sorry ma’am, I just need to wash my face, I’ll-”

You’re interrupted once again by the guard’s movements, but this time, she’s practically ripping down the red hood of her jacket to pull off her mask. She doesn’t even need to take off her face covering by that point, because a single short glance at her eyes, the ones you knew so well, were enough.

“No-eul…,” you choke out, staring as she pulls the face covering down completely to reveal the face you’ve known for nine years. Her hair is sweaty and sticks to her face in a way that you recognize from her summer shifts at the fair.

Seeing her here is only comforting for a short moment though, because the pink of her uniform against the green of yours is still visible in your peripheral as you take in her confused, almost panicked expression. Her eyes scan your face for an answer, not nearly as patient as she typically is, and when you refuse to even make a sound, she takes a small step closer.

“Answer me. You shouldn’t- God.” She runs her gloved fingers through her hair in poorly hidden frustration as she sighs and turns away for a split second. “You shouldn’t be here. Not in a place like this.”

You don’t respond, but she can very much see the frown on your face after that last statement.

“Then what the hell are you doing here?” It doesn’t take much for you to regain your snarkiness, but it clearly throws her off guard.

“It’s just a temporary job, and you know why I need it, so answer me.”

Yes, you know full well why she needs it.

“...I need it too, Eul.” It’s not enough for her. You sigh before accepting your fate. “She needs it.”

For a second, there’s silence. She’s confused, and you watch as the gears turn in her head and she slowly comes to understand the intentions behind your words - understands the blue O plastered on your sweater. Somewhere in the blank expression she’s trying so hard to keep up, you can spot the shame, the guilt, and the sadness washing over her at the realization.

“Don’t look at me like you pity me. This was my choice to make.” I don’t regret it.

When she fails to even acknowledge what you just said, you simply sigh and move over to the wall, sitting down with your legs pulled close to your body. As if it were muscle memory, she joins you a moment later.

For what feels like forever, you two sit in silence and stare at each other. She can’t stop glancing down at the patch on your chest, and you can’t stop glancing at the mask she placed at her side. When she notices this, her expression gets even more shameful, and she lowers her head.

“Eul��” She doesn’t answer you, but you hear the soft exhale she releases when she hears your voice. “Eul, I don’t blame you.”

You reach over in a bold move and take her gloved hands. They’re mostly steady, but you know her too well by now. Even the slightest tremor is enough for you to practically feel the shame washing over her in waves. When you attempt to hold eye contact with her again, she breaks it uncharacteristically fast.

“You should’ve never come here.”

You sigh heavily and as she begins to pull her hands back, you tighten your grip on them and lean forward.

“I want to find her, No-eul. Please let me try.”

She’s damned you, just as she damned her daughter. She’s sure of it.

—

Whilst others around you are quickly gathering into groups, you find yourself lost in the crowd. No one pays you any mind as they shove past you to team up with people they had been interacting with, but what could you do when you’ve really just been ignoring most of the people here?

It’s humiliating when you find yourself inching towards a group of men that side-eye you and turn away before you can even ask to join their group. To be fair, if you were them, you probably wouldn’t want the meek girl in the corner either. It’s life or death, and you can’t blame them for picking the former. All you can do is sigh and turn away, but before you can go far, a hand gently grabs your upper arm and spins you around.

“Hey, you have a team yet?”

380.

She’s a girl you made eye contact with only once, right before your late night trip to the bathroom. From her appearance, you would’ve expected her voice to be a lot more gruff, but it’s soft and gentle and draws you in immediately. In a place like this, it's normal that you find yourself easily drawn to any sense of safety you can find (especially when your usual safe haven is hidden behind a mask that dozens of others are wearing - others that are probably far more willing to shoot you in the head for trying to stick to them).

“No.” An awkward silence fills the space between you two before you remember why she’s even asking such a question in the first place. “Do you want to…”

You don’t get to finish that question - thank god - before she chuckles and shakes her head slightly, answering you by taking you by the hand and dragging you over to her group.

Standing with her back against the wall, an armed guard keeps her eyes trained on your every movement. When 380 takes you by the hand, her grip on her rifle tightens just barely.

—

In a twisted way, you almost found the last game to be fun. The cheers of the spectators, 380’s tight grip on your arm and quiet encouragement after you failed the first round of gonggi, it’s all kindness and attention you never typically receive. You can almost bring yourself to completely ignore the fact that you’re pretty sure you just got yourself thrown in with a group of two drug addicts (you don’t know how they managed to sneak substances into this seemingly sterile environment, but it’s very obvious they succeeded in some capacity).

What wasn’t fun, however, was watching the previous losers get gunned down by people in the same outfit as the woman you were empathizing with just last night. You’re actually 99% sure she was one of them, which makes it that much worse. You pity those who lost, and for a second, as you watch a young boy fall to the ground with blood seeping out from a single hole above his heart, you feel an indescribable hatred towards those putting these people down like dogs.

But then No-eul’s face flashes in your mind and you feel the ghost of her hands on yours, and it all fades away.

“What’s your name?” Your train of thought is interrupted by a soft and familiar voice. You turn to face 380 and are slightly thrown off at the sight of 230, 124, and 125 also waiting expectedly. Albeit with some hesitance, you give them your full name, and 380 nods in acknowledgment.

“I’m Se-mi.” Her choice to leave out her surname isn’t lost on you, but you ignore it for now. After all, you don’t really know this woman, and she doesn’t know you.

“Two beautiful names for two pretty girls.” Maybe you should’ve left out your surname as well. “I’m the legend: Thanos! I’ll revive half the world with my lyrics, so watch out.”

After Thano’s little declaration, you couldn’t really pay attention to the other two (Min-su and Nam-gyu, if your memory serves you well). The short shy boy that had been trailing Se-mi when she asked you to join the team was just as quiet as he was before, but now that you’re really paying attention, you realize that he bears a striking resemblance to someone you knew.

Laughter rings out as you chase him through the yard. Short legs, shorter than yours, don’t take him too far before your open palm collides with his small back, causing him to practically faceplant into the dirt. His muffled cries come out soon after, and even with your sorry attempts to soothe him, your aunt still comes running out, scolding you for playing so roughly with her young son.

It’s the last time you’ll see them, even if you didn’t realize it then.

You break your gaze away as you shift uncomfortably at the sudden memory - 125 is not your cousin, he’s a stranger.

You glance around the room for a bit before deciding you’ve sufficiently distracted yourself. When you draw your focus back towards Se-mi, you see her staring off into the distance as well, having made the wonderful decision to not pay attention to the drug-riddled rambling of the rapper who had become the de-facto leader of the group. As if she can sense your gaze, she breaks her staring contest with the wall across the room to turn her head in your direction.

As your eyes meet again, you don’t look away, and you’re pretty sure she smiles a bit at this.

Smug.

—

When it’s time to vote yet again, you’re just as set on your choice as you were before. The guilt of voting for the games to continue even after seeing 095 cry and beg for her life weighs heavy on your heart, but the money just isn’t quite enough for you to quit yet.

When you drag yourself back over to the side cheering and throwing their fists in the air for the death games to continue, you have to stop for a second and close your eyes.

No-eul’s face is so clear in your mind, and so is every memory you have of her crying over her lost daughter.

It’s easier to stand with these people when you remember what you’re fighting for.

—

Even with the confidence you felt in your choice, your guilt isn’t dispelled and you can barely bring yourself to eat the dinner provided to you. You push around the egg with your spoon, head cradled in your hand as you stare down at the ground; it’s a pitiful scene, and you’re probably scaring off any potential future teammates, but in the moment, you truly couldn’t care less.

“Does it taste that bad?” The voice is teasing, and you immediately know who it is before she even sits down beside you.

“I’m not hungry right now, that’s all.”

“Bullshit,” she says with a laugh, and you finally look up from the speck on the floor just to shoot her a dirty look. She responds with a mischievous one in kind. “You feel bad or something? Starving yourself isn’t gonna change the vote on your chest.”

With a heavy sigh, you shove a spoonful of rice in your mouth just to shut her up, but all you do is earn another laugh from her. It’s a nice sound to hear, but you'd jam your spoon into your neck before admitting something like that to her.

“Where are the other three?”

She raises a brow and slightly leans back, revealing Min-su almost tucked into her side like a shaking child. If you all didn’t share your ages earlier, you would've thought he was only in his late teens with the way he was acting. “Thanos and Nam-gyu are digging into their candy stash again, if you know what I mean.”

A loud unprompted Woo! C’mon Man! from across the room confirms her answer, and you scoff.

“Addicts.” Another laugh from her, and finally, you’ve decided that you’ve had enough with trying to eat when your body damn near wants to reject it. “So, why are you here then?”

“Same as everybody else,” she looks over at you with an expression that says ‘obviously.’ “I’ve got some debt I’m trying to get rid of.”

You’re about to clarify that you actually meant to ask her why she was here, next to you and not why she was participating in a bunch of death games, but you push that thought aside for now. Curiosity takes over as your eyes try to uncover something, anything in her expression.

Piercings, careless attitude, but her eyes are soft when she looks at you and Min-su. She seems smart enough. Beautiful as well. How the hell did someone like her get into enough debt to want to participate in something like this?

“Aren’t you afraid of dying though?” It’s a weirdly deep question that you regret asking as soon as it leaves your mouth, but she only does her signature smirk before answering you.

“There are plenty of things out there that can kill me too. This place isn’t so different.” Except for the fact that you’re now living with the possibility of being shot for failing a kids’ game, but alright, you can accept that answer. When faced with your silence after her answer, Se-mi lifts a hand to gently grab the blue patch on your chest, examining it with apparent interest.

“How about you? Why did you choose to die?”

It’s an incredibly morbid way to put it even though from her tone, you can tell she’s obviously joking. Either way, it makes you grimace and destroys the confident demeanor you tried to hold up to match with hers. What could you say to a question like that? That you signed up to get money for someone else? That you could maybe even have lived a debt-free, semi-peaceful life without this other person, but you would rather die without her?

“It’s… yeah, it’s debt money for me too.” The lie leaves your mouth easily, but Se-mi doesn’t look convinced at all. Her doubtful gaze burns holes into the side of your face, and you’re beginning to desperately search for something to take her attention off you. Your reprieve comes in the form of the slight movement you spot behind her.

You don’t actually know this woman, and for now, you don’t intend to.

“Min-su, how about you?” Her intense gaze finally breaks, and she shifts to look at Min-su as well.

“Huh?”

“Why are you here?” You force your voice to be softer this time, less urgent to match with his jumpy nature. He’s calmer now, but there’s still shame evident in his expression even though he hasn’t even told you two anything yet.

“I… I just had some student loans, that’s all.” Se-mi makes the same face she made at you towards him and he winces, obviously unwilling to spill his secrets. You almost feel bad for the guy, especially with the way Se-mi is beginning to pester him a bit now. Seems like two unnecessarily vague answers were pushing her buttons a bit, and the idea that you’ve managed to irk this carefree woman is kind of satisfying.

After a while of listening to their back and forth (which mainly consisted of Min-su asking Se-mi how she’s so calm in ten different ways), out of pure boredom, you decide to test the waters one last time.

“It’s not really debt money for me.”

This catches their attention straight away, and Se-mi looks far more interested in this answer than your previous one. You drop your eyes back to the ground in preparation for your admission.

“Then what’s it for?”

“I’m planning on giving all the money I win to someone else. They’ll use it for their own... personal reasons.” Not exactly the full truth, but it’s part of it and you think she deserves at least that after recruiting you to her team.

For a second, you expect laughter to break out right in your face. You prepare to answer questions about why you would risk your life for someone else’s goal, but it never comes. Instead, when you look back up, all you see are two pairs of understanding eyes, not a hint of mockery in their gaze.

If anything, Se-mi almost looks proud of your answer.

“Actually… I joined the game to try and help my mom out a bit, that’s all. I wasn’t able to get a good job after school, so I want to make up for it.” Min-su’s words sound like those of a young boy still trying to understand the world around him. “I’m all she’s got left now.”

What was someone like him doing in an evil place like this?

“Man, you two are making me feel kinda bad,” Se-mi says, chuckling to herself before leaning back a bit to look at you square in the face.

She doesn’t doubt Min-su’s story, and even though she doubted yours for a split second, she sees nothing but genuine honesty and a hint of embarrassment in your eyes. This revelation fills her with relief, and for the first time, she spares you both a genuine smile.

“I figured you two were nice, generous people when we teamed up.” The newfound but genuine friendliness she exudes surprises you, but it’s a welcome change. “I’m glad I might just be right, and I’m hanging out with some good people for once.”

“Well, I hope I could say the same about you.”

She throws her head back in laughter at this, and you begin to think that maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to know these people after all.

—

“Can I use the bathroom please?”

This time, you don’t bother to knock, and as expected, your voice is all she needs to open the door and step aside. It was actually surprisingly quick this time too, as if she had been waiting on the other side already.

The air is tense, a feeling you never really associated with No-eul, but it’s late and the earlier conversation you had with your two new friends didn’t do much to dispel your undying anxiety about tomorrow. You can feel her gaze on you even from behind that mask, but you pay her no mind as you rush your wet hands across your reddened face and hair. The cooling effect is instant, and now, you finally feel ready to face her.

“Take off the mask, please.” Your voice is more exasperated than you intended it to be, but you can’t cover up the fatigue you’ve been feeling since the start of the games. It’s probably more of an emotional exhaustion thing, but you don’t want to think about all that right now.

As she’s going through the process of removing the layers covering her face from you, you begin heading over to the far end of the bathroom, eventually dropping to the floor with a heavy sigh. She’s staring at you expectedly.

“The gloves too.”

She doesn’t protest or even sigh, simply pulling them off her hands before shoving them into the pockets of her pink tracksuit. She takes this opportunity to run her fingers through her hair, bangs previously stuck to her face being pushed back out of the way. In that process, she reveals a red, clearly fresh cut on the side of her face. You practically jump up from the floor and stomp right back over to her.

“What the fuck happened?”

“Don’t worry, it was just a tussle with some of the other guards.” Your hands gingerly cup her face as you tilt it to examine the wound. She can feel her skin tingle where your fingertips gingerly graze it. “I handled it.”

You sigh heavily at her dismissal of the open wound on her face and walk around her to grab some paper towels, turning on the faucet to let cold water flow onto them.

“Fuck, No-eul, you’re not even participating in the games and you’re still finding ways to get injured.” Your hands are still shaking a bit when you come back over to her, gently dabbing the dried blood off her cheek. Her gaze is heavy on you, but you can’t bring yourself to look her in the eye right now. Not when you can practically feel her eyes all over your face, your body, every part of you.

As she stands there, No-eul’s mind begins to wander. How can you stand here, right in front of her after everything? Sometimes she genuinely believes you’re an angel sent from heaven to give her reprieve from the pain in her life; a gentle soul, who, even now, overlooks her greatest faults.

“I’m sorry,” she breathes out, gently taking your trembling hand in hers and pulling it away from her face. There’s an uncharacteristic softness in her expression, but you’ve seen it enough times to understand what it really conveys: guilt.

“You don’t have to apologize for something like this,” you say, clearing your throat as you turn to throw the paper towel away. “If you say everything’s fine, I’ll believe you.” Like always.

It's silent for a moment - almost peaceful - before her face twists as if she's just recalled an unpleasant memory.

“Who was that girl you were with? 380.” You scoff at her sudden question and turn around with pure confusion on your face.

“What?”

“She brought you over to those drug heads earlier. It’s not safe to hang around people like that, especially not in a place like this.” You bite back a response that said, well, you're currently with one of the guards that were gunning down people earlier, so how does that work?

“God, No-eul, it’s just a shitty temporary team-up kind of thing,” you laugh slightly at your own words, making sure to leave out your already growing attachment to two people in your little group. “What, did you expect me to try to do this all on my own?”

Her growing agitation is evident as her jaw visibly clenches and she turns away a bit, resting her hands on the back of the rifle slung around her shoulder. “I’m saying you should choose better, they’re the type of people who would drop you in a split second if it meant they could survive another day.”

“You think I don’t know that? Two of them are constantly high out of their minds and the other two-” You interrupt yourself with a sigh, shutting your eyes as your head droops; unfortunately, you can’t actually think of any reason you could have to distrust the unexpectedly kind girl and the shy boy you’ve grown acquainted with.

If they turned their backs on you, you would be lying if you said it wouldn’t phase you in the slightest.

No-eul begins feeling guilty again when she watches your shoulders drop and your eyes dim at the realization of the shitty situation you’ve found yourself in. Even so, her eyes don’t miss the unchanging patch on your sweater: a blue rectangle, neatly stitched with an O in the center. She bites her lip and curses under her breath. Always playing the hero, even at the expense of yourself.

She slowly walks back over to you, lifting up a single hand to trace the patch that signified your choice to give your life for hers.

“The issue isn’t the money,” the broker exclaims, his voice a mix of pity and exasperation at her persistence. “We’ve searched, we’ve been searching for years now, but a one-year old alone… especially after her mother deserted…?” Her expression hardens and he winces at the unintentional cruelty in his statement. “It’s almost impossible by now, No-eul.”

Her anger is barely contained when she feels a gentle hand on her shoulder, and a newfound calmness washes over her in waves.

“We understand the circumstances, sir, but please, please keep searching.” His expression softens slightly at the kind, weary smile on yours. “We’ll handle the expenses, all we ask is that you believe in this search too.”

She almost wants to cry at the sound of your sweet voice.

“We still have hope.”

“Get out of your head, No-eul.”

She’s startled back to reality when she feels gentle hands caress the scars on her wrists. Instinctively, she goes to pull away, but you step forward at the same time and press your body against hers, keeping a firm yet gentle grip on her wrists, fingertips still tracing the marks of the pain she’s held onto for seven years.

“Please don’t forget, this was my choice.” Your voice is muffled against the crook of her neck, but it’s just as gentle as she remembers it to be. “I still have hope.”

With those simple words, she feels the dream she’s held onto for years glow just a bit brighter. Closing her eyes, she leans head to rest atop yours, gently removing her arms from your grip to wrap them firmly around your body. You don’t hesitate to reciprocate her hold.

“Me too.” Your grip on her tightens just barely. “I still have hope too.”

—

A/N: WOW SORRY PLOT DUMP ALERT!! I love some good set-up but I hope the yearning was enough to make up for the lack of obvious romance like smut..

Never posted on Tumblr before too so I have no clue if I did this right (like formatting)! again, any thoughts on the fic are appreciated and ill probably (hopefully) finish part 2 soon! that part will prob be better cuz the relationship between all characters are all set up now. might cross post on ao3/wattpad but haven't decide yet

#squid game #kang no eul #guard 011 #kang no eul x reader #se mi squid game #player 380 #se mi x reader #squid game x reader #squid game season 2 #wlw #angst #kang noeul x reader #semi x reader

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doctorbeth · 1 year ago

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Rabbit -- one of your cherished stuffed companions

Rabbit belongs to one of you dear people, and she gave me permission to share his story with you.:-) He was in the hospital about a year ago.

She initially wrote:

I live in South Florida and I am a big fan of your hospital! I have a stuffed rabbit plush animal, I believe he may have once been a Bugs Bunny plush, but to me he has always been "Rabbit" and I cannot find any leads online as to his "origins". Rabbit has been with me since I was 6 months old-- he's almost 24 years old! He's been my constant companion, and I still sleep with him and love him to this day. As you might imagine, this has led to many surgeries...

Lately, Rabbit has had very thin fabric fur, and you can see through to the stuffing (mostly on his tummy). He's also in need of some new stuffing, as his current has gotten pretty clumpy over the years. My mom and I have talked about possibly giving him a complete fur transplant on his tummy as we have applied patches before, but we aren't experts and don't want to cause him harm! He gets holes in his fabric very easily as he has become very delicate from love over the years... We are almost afraid to touch him with anything other than a hug!

Now there were many photos attached to this note, and just fyi, for diagnosis the more photos the better, but you all don't need quite so many close ups... here are three critical photos from his diagnosis:

You can really see in the last two photos how thin his fabric was getting.... but he has such a cute face, and it's mostly embroidered, and I thought they may want to keep that, so.... there were many (actually 7!) options for his care. Keep in mind, he's over 2 feet long, too. Here were the treatment options (a spa could be added to any):

1) Given his style of fabric, and his artistic belly patches, and the fact that he has embroidered facial features, we could line his body with new fabric. This reinforces his body and limbs while keeping his current appearance. He would get all new body stuffing as part of this treatment, as the stuffing would need to come out for lining and it can't go back in. But, a small amount of original stuffing would be preserved in a heart in his chest. With this treatment, he could still wear, but you would see lining before stuffing. Also, for future repairs, the lining could take the pressure of stitches away from his skin. I would also minimize the older scarring on his side.

2) I can do everything in option 1, plus line his head.

3) I can do everything in option 1, plus line his head and ears.

4) Instead of lining, we could recover just his belly and lower sides of limbs. His original skin (and old patches) would remain underneath, reinforcing the new fabric. I would get as close as possible to his current fabric color and texture. Perfect fabric matches are rarely possible, but if that is the case, I will send photos of him with transplant options so you can choose what you like best. I would also minimize his scars.

5) I can recover his entire torso and limbs (leaving his head and ears as is). I would also minimize his scars.

6) I can recover his belly and lower side of limbs around his patches (keeping his artistic appearance). I would also minimize his scars.

7) I can recover his belly around his patches and recover the rest of his body and limbs. I would also minimize his scars.

His person thought about it, discussed it with her family, and ultimately decided on option 5: recover his entire torso and limbs but leave his head and ears as is. They also added a spa for Rabbit, which would treat the lumpiness of his stuffing as well as clean him.

So Rabbit flew to the hospital and began treatment with his bubble bath:

He got restuffed before recovering, so here is his heart being made and installed with a bit of his original stuffing:

I started by recovering his gray areas, leaving the white of his pawpads and tail original. At this point, I sent chubbiness approval photos and let his person decide whether she still wanted to recover the white (which was in better shape than the gray):

His person wrote: "Wow, he looks amazing!! His chubbiness looks perfect, I can't wait to hold him! I would like to recover his white patches of fur"

So Rabbit got closed up, and the white got recovered, and then he was ready to fly home!

Approved, Rabbit flew home to Florida. When he arrived back cross country, his person wrote:

Rabbit is home!! Thank you so, so much!! He looks amazing, he's soooo soft and cuddly, I can't wait to spend many many more years with my darling angel rabbit! I cannot thank you enough Doctor, you're truly an angel!! I'm so blessed to have found you and your lovely hospital!! My mom and I can't stop gushing over how soft and cuddly Rabbit is, he's like brand new! I'll continue to treasure him for the rest of my life with your help!

#rabbit #stuffed rabbit #bugs bunny #stuffed animals #stuffed animal repair #stuffed animal cleaning #large stuffed animal #toy rabbit #toy rabbit repair #bunny #stuffed bunny #stuffed bunny repair

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endearng · 2 months ago

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The books that I keep by my bed — are full of your stories

Pairing: Spencer Reid x reader Summary: The answer is: you don't. | Part 2 to Lifeline. WC: 1.9k Warnings: none :) this is pure fluff and maybe a little delusional lol considering reader's background A/N: I have no excuse for myself, I love to call people I love and read to them. I feel like Spencer would love that as well. The title is based on the song 'Sloom', by Of Monsters and Men. <3 | masterlist

Now, a year after the incidents that made your life change for the better, as you wake up every day, you can remember the first thing you see. Maybe the white ceiling as the soft fabric of your duvet grazes your skin. Maybe a vision of your window. Maybe your nightstand, where you keep sort of a shrine — a current read, a picture of you as a kid, your reading glasses, a lamp, your favorite watch, the sobriety chip that you always put in your pocket whenever you went out. And the letters you got from Spencer, of course.

Things had been getting better, even if you had ups and downs. You slowly made your way back to college and were taking your last classes before graduation. You had an internship in a practice that allowed you to be in contact with the career you wanted to pursue, helping others through therapy. You also found your family again, having moved out of Richmond, but staying in touch and casually visiting them when you were in need of a shoulder. through it all, you got letters from dr. Spencer Reid.

You haven't met much, of course. He had stayed with you as long as he could when you were at the hospital, but he claimed that he would stay in touch. True to his words, you got letters weekly and sometimes he would call you late at night, being forced to by the timezone, in need of someone to talk to. You picked up every time and, at some point, you went to sleep hoping you'd get woken up by the sound of your phone ringing.

His letters always told stories that helped you fall asleep: creative, funny, gut wrenching at times. As time went by, you found out that, besides a great friend, he was also an incredibly talented writer. Spencer wasn't very good at disguising that it was he and his experiences that he talked about, no matter how hard he tried to convince you otherwise. You'd laugh about the fact that you were able to see right through him.

As soon as the phone stops ringing, letting him know you've taken his call, his face lights up in a smile. "Today was a good day."

"Is that so? What happened?" He asked, heart skipping a beat at the sound of your voice.

"I made some new friends at university." You squeal in excitement. He can feel the smile on your face. "They are a bit younger than me, but they are very supportive."

"I'm glad you have new friends now. University can be very demanding and overwhelming. It's important to have good company." He said, picking on a fingernail.

"I have you." You said, clutching the locker between your fingers.

He faltered.

"Y-yeah, but, you know... I'm not always around."

Glancing at your bedtime stories, you say, "You are". Yes, they are yours, because he wrote them for you.

Spencer gulps. God. This... This is getting out of hand.

Quietness. "Anyway, how was your day, Spencer?"

"It was... good. We just solved the case, but we're too tired to go back to Quantico now." He replied mindlessly.

"Then why aren't you getting some rest?"

He blurted out, "I needed to check on you."

A sigh from your end. He didn't quite know how to read that, since he was unable to look you in the eye, but he preferred thinking that you were happy that he called. "Thank you for doing that. But, you know, I'm doing good." Silence. "Are you?"

"I am, yes. I'm happy to talk to you."

"I always look forward to our calls. And your letters. You know, you're getting better at disguising yourself, Reid." You chuckle, imagining him rolling his eyes at you. "Don't say a word. Come on! A guy who sits and watches time going by? That's you! Although I was a little shocked to see that he wasn't stuck in place forever. That's a first."

He chuckled. "I assume you like it, then?"

"Very much," you quip. "I have a question, though. Is this a metaphor?"

"What for?"

"I was thinking. That guy you wrote about stays in place, apparently rooted to the spot, but suddenly he witnesses something unsettling in front of him and decides it's time to go, right?" he nods, although you can't see him. "Where to?"

"To his place."

"As in his house? Does he have one?"

Lying down on the mattress, he closes his eyes, focusing on your voice and how absolutely naive you were. "He might, yes. I might write about it whenever I can."

Again, he can feel your smile. "I'll be waiting, then. I'm glad you called."

Spencer falls asleep to your voice reading the short story he had written you, his phone clutched near to his wild heart.

—

Tonight, Spencer would actually come in to visit you. It was about time you two properly hang out together, after endless months of phone calls and letters sent to you — you had joked once that maybe he should come over. That made him drive all night to get to you.

You were a mess, having meticulously cleaned your apartment over and over so that it would be spotless when he arrived. You looked around and felt a strange sense of pride; the decor reflected the new stage of your life, the best one so far. The plants that adorned your living room, as small it may be, made you feel like you had something to care for, something to come home to. Something to be here for.

The doorbell rang. You thought you felt a ghost of sweat run down your back. Taking a deep breath, you saw Spencer Reid.

"Hi," you breathed out, the biggest, most honest smile on your face. He smiled back.

If the sun was a person, it would look like you.

In a hoarse voice, he greeted you back. "Hi."

Spencer took in your appearance. Your cheeks were fuller, your eyes were now brighter and your smile reached them. He had never seen such a sight before, and he felt his heart rate speed at the thought that it was for his eyes only. You were smiling at him. He fought the itch to give you a hug, thinking that it would be too much for you. A thought hit him then: that he would, that he could never do anything to upset you in any form.

All that from a smile alone.

"Come in, please," you said, making room for him to enter. "I'm dying to show you something."

Entering your apartment, he muttered, "I'm dying to see what it is."

Upon his arrival, the light seemed brighter and you could barely stop yourself from grinning like a damn fool. What did you do to my eyes?

"It's just a draft. I'm still working on it."

Pulled out of his reverie, he managed a small grin. Your hair was thicker, fuller, framing your face so beautifully. Your clothes fitted you a lot better and you looked very happy. Whether it was from seeing him or in general, Spencer didn't know, but he allowed himself to indulge at the precious thought. Your big, round eyes looked at him expectantly as your delicate hands held a paper out to him. Your graduation speech.

Looking at the yellowed sheet, he took it in his hands, fingers subtly brushing yours. You look at your hands. His touch doesn't make your skin crawl. It burns it.

This is the draft of a speech. I'm making sure to point this out because I must know what I'm going to say and what I won't. These last few months were challenging, but I'm finally starting to feel like myself again. I can see myself in the mirror and it's not a stranger. I'm no longer a stranger to the world, either. I talk to people. I understand them. I feel like doing things. It turns out that it wasn't too late. That I wasn't dead. I am not dead. And it took me bravery, a few people to whom I owe my life and that's not an overstatement, but that I'd like them to know that I'm immensely grateful for not letting me bleed myself out of my body. There's still me in here. And I'm nurturing her back to health with the help of my loved ones.

I'll never forget how you made me heal.

"I know it's not the best and I have a lot to say, but, um, I wanted you to see my first thoughts and I'm a bit scared you won't be there to hear me say it." You said, looking at him, who still glanced at the paper. "It's not like anything you write, because you sure have a way with words that I don't, but the thing is, I want you to feel like you've saved me. Because you did."

Unable to control his expressions, his brows furrowed as his eyes watered. You widened your own at him. "Shit. I... I'm sorry," you chuckled once he grinned at your curse. "You made me feel and realize so many things with no need for words. You looked at me and I felt seen, not wanted, not desired, not frowned upon... I felt seen. And I remember the look on your face every time I lay my head on the pillow."

It escapes him. He thinks he is just thinking it, but his mouth, lips, voice, everything betrays him. "You're the most beautiful person I've ever known."

Your flushed face, your mouth agape and your averted gaze make him smile. Warmth floods his chest when you say, "I'm lucky you think that."

"I'm lucky we met."

"I wanted to be the same way I once was before everything happened. But I guess that, I think I like me now. I like moving on. I like finding life again. And I know that whatever happens to me, I know it's better than anything."

"I want to happen with you."

Wrapping your arms around his torso, listening to his frantic heartbeat, you inhale deeply, your senses going haywire by the sheer presence of him. Your conversations made your heart feel fuller, his desire and questions to find out about you made you feel whole and you nurtured your curiosity about him as well. "Tell me how the drive went."

"It went well."

It is funny how people tend to shift between preferring the destination or the journey. To Spencer, it was both, and his analytic mind had, for once, trouble deciding between two things: the journey, where the anticipation of seeing you made his heart feel overwhelmed with joy over the mere prospect of looking in your eyes after months of falling asleep to the sound of your voice; or the destination, where he finally held you in his arms and your body pressed to his made everything feel realer than it ever was on his life.

Smiling softly, you look up at him to brush a strand of his hair out of his face. His heart flutters because of your adoring gaze. "I love your eyes. Um, I think that they are gorgeous," you remark in that soft melodic voice that read him his short stories.

Spencer smiled, unable to look away or to fight the blush creeping on his cheeks. Her genuine compliment left him speechless. "You... you have a way with words, you know that?" He inquired rhetorically with a tone that was a mixture of vulnerability and genuine surprise. "Your... compliments, they're..." He clears his throat, smiling dumbly, giddily, as his mind tries searching for the right adjective on his brain that apparently had short-circuited.

"... All yours. They are all yours."

The man rooted to the spot made his way back home.

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x yn #spencer reid x you #criminal minds fanfiction #mgg #matthew gray gubler #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fanfic #writersontumblrs #spencer reid self insert #cm fanfic #cm fanfiction #criminal minds fanfic

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hippielittlemetalhead · 7 months ago

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Never Took The Time (To Forget) part 4.2: Robin's Boy

A.N: Life is kinda sucky right now with job hunting, surviving at my current job, the strains that come with being a caregiver to a family member while maintaining a long distance relationship and just dealing with mental and emotional self-care. So here's this, super late and not beta-read but at least I wrote it.

As always, feel free to yell at/with me in the comments, tags and/or ask box.

Part 1 (Hop fucks up), Part 2 (Pride and Prejudices: Joyce's Edition), Part 3 (One of Us), Part 4.1 (With a Capital 'P'), Part 5 (Man Of The Hour)

There's not much that surprises Robin Buckley these days. She gets queasy at the sight of ground beef, the big friendly dogs a few doors down at the O'Reilly place make her blood run cold, she can't watch the old Russian movies her dad loves without having nightmares after and she's sleeping with a nightlight for the first time since she was six. But it takes a lot to surprise her.

Seeing the declared dead Chief of Police step out of a sleek black, obviously-secret-government-bullshit car flanked by an agent she recognizes as one of Owens' lackeys from last July when they were making the rounds with Government funded medical care contingent on signing sketchy NDAs? Just par for the course at this point.

Steve's face when Eleven-Jane rushes into the not-dead Chief's arms and it turns into a whole 'Moment'? Said Chief's look of barely interested confusion followed by tired annoyance when Steve drags her in front of him, rambling about Starcourt and new additions to The Party and finally getting to meet 'My Hop'? Yeah, none of that surprises her either. She plays along for Steve, doesn't give Hopper any time to say anything that would take that happy smile off his face or get rid of the way he's practically glowing he's smiling bigger than she's ever seen directed at anyone other than the kids. Tries not to think about the way it makes something in her clench and crouch like a cat getting ready to pounce and bare fangs she didn't realize she had outside of a life and death situation. She introduces herself, maintains eye contact and drags Steve off as fast as she can to do something, anything, that will distract him from trying to catch up like the Byers clan is with the kids and assembled assorted monster fighters.

She's not surprised when she can't stop Steve from stepping up every time Hopper or Joyce or anyone with a badge says they need anything despite his own still healing wounds. She's not surprised when Hop takes it a step too far.

They're at the Hopper Cabin that is steadily becoming the Hopper-Byers Cottage when Hop tells his and Joyce's shared custody bald parasite that Steve is little more than an annoyance he puts up with for the free babysitting service and manual labor and cause he can go up against shit that would give anyone else nightmares while keeping the kids safe and mostly in-check. She's sitting with Eleven-Jane, sewing patches onto one of Hop's old army jackets, (the kid had seen Eddie's battle vest in Steve's car and it had reminded her of her sister Kali and she'd decided she wanted one of her own for the war ahead and then all of the other rugrats had decided they did too so she and Argyle had taken to giving sporadic sewing lessons whenever the kids had the materials to start their own battle attire) when Steve comes round the corner to the back of the property striding with purpose she rarely saw when he was around his kids.

She leaves her unfinished project on the stump she'd been using as a stool and chases after him. She shooes off curious and worried kids, promising to stick with him, keep the walkie close and on, make sure he was safe and didn't run afoul of any demo-beasts or trigger-happy government goons as he made his way to his car and then wherever else he was marching his happy ass.

She hates the fact that when they're both finally back at the little apartment that Owens' yes-men had acquired for Steve when Harrington Sr. decided to be an opportunist prick and kick Steve out for 'not taking care of the house' in the middle of the 'earthquake', that Steve hasn't shed a single tear. She hates that she's not surprised.

He doesn't say anything as he kicks off his Nikes and shuffles over to the 'second-hand' couch they'd gotten from Mrs. Henderson (Steve and Robin were both fully aware she'd just gotten it shortly before Spring break and was in no way in need of a new one so soon, but they both also knew better than to call her out on her kindness). He doesn't look up at her from his spot curled in amongst the throw pillows and blankets they'd been gifted by parents of various members of the party after Hopper and Owens' story that the two of them had saved the kids again from some freak incident like last year with Starcourt. She pulls out the thick quilt they had found in the latest donations bins when Hawkin's government supervised relief force started outsourcing for supplies and basic comforts. He stares at the wall where they'd hung an oversized corkboard dedicated to polaroids and photo booth strips and even some properly printed pictures of the little monster fighting family they'd put together.

She can't pull him out of this, no matter how much she may want to. There's some places his mind goes only Eleven-Jane would be able to reach and neither of them were going to put more on that girl's plate. So she puts on a Bruce Springsteen record she used to hate and curls up as close as she can to him through the quilt and pillows. Every now and then she gets up to get them both water, to grab some crackers to try and coax him into eating and to switch over to a new record or just flip the one on the player but she always comes back to her spot next to her Steve.

"Whatever he said to you, you know it's not true. Right? You're worth more than a dozen undead cops on a power trip." That gets an amused huff.

"Seriously Stevie, the kids adore you, I swear all the moms in Hawkins think you're the best thing since sliced bread and I don't know what I'd do without my personal chump. We're soulmates, remember? One of these days we're gonna mind meld like Spock and McCoy and we'll be unstoppable. I can't make it without my McCoy, Bones."

"I can't make it without you either, you hobgoblin. Thanks Bobby."

The next day is better. Steve is still a little quiet, a little droopy. But he's present and there's a simmering anger underneath his smile that Robin is proud to see him acknowledging but makes her worry about him as he ushers her into his car to drop her off on her rare lone shift at Family Video before he heads out to a quick 'consultation patrol' with some military special operatives to check out something weird by one of the new cracks.

No one had told any of the kids yet, about the cracks starting to spread out in smaller fissures like a slowly spreading infection. Hadn't thought it necessary with Steve and Nancy (both now legal adults and wasn't the government taking full advantage of that) there as a first line of communication while Joyce wrangled a restless Hop as he settles back in and heals and spars with Owens over payouts and government aide for the town and what the growing military presence was and wasn't allowed to do. With the parents occupied the kids had come together tighter than ever, focusing on their injured and recovering from the nightmare fuel that was their spring break. No one noticed.

She can't help the rant she falls into as they drive through checkpoints and past regular civilians being escorted through areas a little too close to a Gate for comfort. She goes on about how half of the soldiers act like Steve is just one of them and the other half treat him with the same cautious curiosity they do Eleven-Jane whenever she makes her way to the 'front lines' these days. She wants to get the weird boy-speak head nods too! Even Nancy gets them, especially when she's walking around with her sawed-off strapped to a jerry-rigged hip-holster. Robin has used Darlin' before, she's speed poured Molotov Cocktails to hand to soldier boys trying not to piss their pants as Steve and Nancy barked orders as they tried to down a demogorgon fresh from the Upside-Down. Where's her battlefield camaraderie?

It makes him laugh and shake his head fondly as he calls her crazy and weird with that soft smile on his face that makes her chest feel warm and fuzzy like her parents' hugs used to when she was 10 and crawled into their bed after having a nightmare. She doesn't tell him to be careful as they turn down onto Main street or to make sure he comes back in one piece as he rolls to a stop in front of the dark storefront. She starts on another tangent about him abandoning her to the drudgery of Capitalism as he gets to frolic in the woods with a bunch of burly men with their toys before he laughingly reaches over her to open her door to start pushing her out of the car. He smiles big and dopey as she practically spills onto the asphalt, still rambling away about neglectful soulmates and abuses of driving power with smatterings of claims that she'll take over his apartment if he dies and use his ashes as fertilizer for the plants he's taken to keeping on the fire-escape outside the living room window if he dares to leave her alone to babysit his hellions.

He shoots back a final, "Love you too Bobby!" before taking off towards where he's meeting the scientists and soldiers he's supposed to lead through Upside Down infected woods. As he leaves her standing on the sidewalk he doesn't make any sort of promise to be safe, to let the government goons just do their job, to make it back to her alive or in one piece. Not even to make it back to her. She plays with the locket she's taken to wearing that holds a curled up braid of hair shades darker than hers or anyone's in her family.

She doesn't watch his car to the end of the street like she might have before Spring Break, after their Starcourt 'adventure', instead she takes a deep breath and unlocks the dumb video store in this dumb town full of dumb people who don't know when to call it quits and just get the hell out of Dodge. She boots up the computer leaving it to warm up while she starts sorting through whatever mess the new shmucks Steve insisted they hire to cover what times the two of them couldn't because of the Arcade (which they had also gone and hired more staff for now that people weren't one tremor away from rioting in the streets) and Upside Down/ government related shenanigans they ended up getting dragged into.

The bell above the door jingles and she has to bite back a groan. "Welcome to Family Video, I literally just got here so you're gonna have to give me a minute before I can help you."

"Afraid we've only got movies round here, officer. You want any other medium of entertainment I'd suggest the arcade or the distribution yard." She won't turn to face him, not sure she can keep her cool if she does right now. Her hands move on muscle memory, shuffling papers into their proper piles and flipping open VHS cases to check if they need to be rewound. "Sorry, guess we'll have to catch up another time."

"I'm uh, I'm not here for a movie." She may have only heard his voice a couple of times and in passing but she didn't call her ears little geniuses for nothing. She forces her body to relax, lowering her shoulders the way Steve taught her to and keeping her voice light like Eddie walked her through, calling on his Theatre Kid skill set to teach the Party how to convincingly lie improvise when being questioned by people who really did not need to know just what was going on in good old Hawkins.

She can hear him sigh and can't help but picture his hand running over the fuzz on his head the way Steve runs his hands through his coif more and more nowadays in a way he never did before Nancy, before he got pulled into this bullshit and Hopper was rumored to be the one signing his paperwork and taking responsibility for him when his parents didn't show up after an almost week long stay at the hospital. "Look, I know you don't like me. And it has been brought to my attention just how much I fucking earned that. But I- I need your help here. To fix it."

There's not much that surprises Robin Buckley these days. She gets queasy at the sight of ground beef and meatloaf covered in ketchup, the big friendly dogs a few doors down at the O'Reilly place she used to pet and give snacks to on her way to and from school make her blood run cold, she can't watch the old Russian movies she and her dad used to stay up late watching together without having nightmares after and she's sleeping with a nightlight by her bed for the first time since she was six. But it takes a lot to surprise her. Jim Hopper might have just done it.

She doesn't stop moving, doesn't want to give him the satisfaction of throwing her off. She fiddles with the sharp little knife she has tucked up her shirt sleeve in the little sheath she and Steve put together between shuffling papers, taps at the button on her vest hiding the mic attached to the walkie talkie that never leaves her pocket these days. When she finally turns to look at him she's not surprised by the thinness of his frame or the way his eyes and cheeks still look a little sunken in. She sees the tired father worried for his kids and his people and his town, angry at the government for their involvment and their stupidity that she had come to expect. She is not expecting the remorse, the fear, she sees looking back at her. She wonders for a moment what he sees when he looks at her, at any of the teens and kids and young adults he's fought alongside trying to stop the end of the world.

"Fine. He'll be back from his patrol-" He looks mildly confused for a moment, meaning Joyce hadn't been passing along even the minimal information Nancy and Steve had been giving her to relay to Hop and the rest of the Party. That would have to be it's own discussion at some point probably. "-in about twenty minutes. You have fifteen. Now why should I help you?"

"You care about Harringt- Steve. You're close, the two of you have been basically Siamese Twins since Starcourt from what I hear. I- I realize that I made a mistake dumb enough shitting Mike Wheeler is making more sense than me, that I fucked up in a way I don't fucking know how to fix. And I am asking. Politely. For your help."

Honestly she's not sure she believes him. Honestly he's surprised her more times in the last five minutes than most anything or anyone else has in the last year. The man has a lot to unpack and the situation with Steve is just a drop in the man's pile of shit he's managed to bury himself under but maybe there's some hope yet.

She checks the watch on her wrist (an obscenely expensive piece Steve got from one of his parents' rich friends at a holiday party he was too young to remember on a leather band that he had outgrown and never got around to replacing) and looks back at Hop. Ten more minutes. "Why are you here?"

Hop groans in that growly sort of way that makes her think of her grandpa Dale, a great bear of a man who had given the best hugs with shoulders to put Jim Hopper to shame. The no-longer-chief runs his hand over his fuzz again, one hand propped on his hip as he shifts his weight to one side and she tamps down the flicker of biting anger at another example of the ways Steve had shaped himself after a man who never gave him the respect or care he deserved.

"I don't know how to fix what I fucked up. Steve's a good kid, I can admit that now. And he didn't deserve my bullshit just cause I couldn't get past old highschool biases. I wasn't there for him like I should have been- like I told him I would be when I signed those papers. But he's not the kid I thought he was, he's nothing like his folks or the other trust fund brats who think they run this shithole town. I don't know what I'm doing. I just know that kid deserves better than I've been doing."

She hums like she's mulling over his little speech to hide the way she's freaking out a little over what to say to all that. Even she doesn't know how she and Steve got to where they are beyond being tortured by Russians for information they didn't have then being drugged out of their minds while fighting inter-dimensional flesh monsters. But she doesn't think that would help Hop much in this situation.

But she thinks she believes him. At least for now.

"Alright, I'll help you with Steve." Hop sighs, his shoulders dropping as he seems to unclench slightly. Seriously, that much tension cannot be good for him after being in a Russian gulag for almost a year. "But not because I think you deserve it. You were right, Steve deserves better, but he wants you and Joyce and the kids to be in his life. Be a part of it. That is the only reason I will help you. He deserves a better dad than the one he's had and for some reason he thinks you're like super-dad."

"I- How the fuck did I not- What the hell?"

Robin shrugs, "The human brain is good at weeding out what it doesn't want to see. You didn't want to see Steve until you had to and that realization brought you to me. So. Ignorance is bliss and all that."

"So what do I do?"

She checks her watch again. "He'll be running late, especially if the fissure he's checking out is as bad as we think it is. So you have time to run back home, get Joyce to make extra of whatever monstrosity of a casserole she's trying to make this week and you get your rugrats to figure out a way to be the last drop off after Steve takes the brats to the arcade later instead of sleeping off whatever knocks he gets on patrol today. Then instead of letting him head home you make him come inside for dinner. Use the excuse of finding out he's been doing patrols if you have to. But you make him go inside and sit his ass down and eat something and you let him just- let him just be, Hop." She's running out of time but there is just so much she wants to get through to him. "Just make him feel like you see him."

"I- I'll try."

"Yeah, sure. Just-" She bites back the vitriol she wants to projectile vomit in his direction. "Just don't hurt him again. He's more than just a babysitter or front lines muscle. And I will make you wish you were back with the Russians if you make him forget that."

"I believe you."

"Good." The bell over the door jingles again and she looks past Hop to see a group of teenagers making their way to the comedies. "Now I have to get to work and you need to not be here by the time Steve comes to check on me. So talk to you later, Chief."

"Right. Thanks for your help, kid."

She shrugs him off as he turns to head out. The teens are watching him not-so-discreetly as they try to act like they're looking through the latest releases. She forgets that the man is as much a mystery as the heavy-duty military forces that have taken over their small town.

"Alright, folks. What are we looking for today?" She still technically has a job to do even if the kids keep their distance from her like they do the rest of the Party who at this point have all been seen either spending time with said heavy-duty military forces or chasing something into the dark of the forest wielding weapons smeared in monster blood, or both. It's going to be a long day.

Tag list (I think this is everyone?)(if your tag didn't work let me know cause they don't always work for me Idk why):

@thelittleclare @jackiemonroe5512 @0body0disphoria0 @strangersteddierthings @lingeringmirth @dead-cherry-bitch @irethsune @ink777 @the-daydreamer-in-the-corner @ledleaf @pansexuality-activated @paintsplatteredandimperfect @kinryuuki @yikes-a-bee @altocumulustranslucidus @ohimamarigold @samsoble @sensationalsunburst @xxbottlecapx @y4r3luv @swimmingbirdrunningrock @flustratedcas @rootbeerandmusic @vinteraltus @wonderland-girl143-blog @failedstarsandgoldenclouds @steddie-as-they-go @steveshairspray86 @youdrewstarsxaroundmyscars @i-amthepizzaman @wormapothacary @croatoan-like-its-hot @maya-custodios-dionach @ineffable-monster-romancer @asquareinverona @ellietheasexylibrarian @pukner @bookworm0690 @nightmareglitter @joekeerysmoles @salchica @lawrencebshoggoth @iheartjennaaa @child-of-cthulhu @anaibis @rocochen20 @katdeerly @samcoxramblings

#rambler writes #nttttf verse #Never Took The Time (To Forget)#Robin pov #platonic soulmates stobin #rambler writes fic #stranger things fic #post season 4 #hopper adopts steve #but make it sad #not part of any exchange or big bang #I would love to do one of those but the energy is not with me

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writerinlearning · 1 month ago

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𝐒𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐭’𝐬 𝐎𝐮𝐭 | The One Where… Series.

plot: the one where henry saves swellview and accidentally reveals his secret identity to his oldest friend.

pairing: henry hart x fem!reader.

show: henry danger

warnings: none that i can think of. maybe some brief mention of blood and injuries.

word count: 5,3k

author’s notes: english isn’t my first language, so my apologies for the possible mistakes. this has been proofread so there shouldn’t be many mistakes, but still. this piece is a part of my the one where... series, of which you can find the masterlist linked below. it’s my first time writing for henry danger but uh, lately i found myself rewatching shows i used to watch before going to college and my current hyperfixations have been henry danger and lab rats, so here you go. not sure if anyone’s going to read this, or if anyone’s going to enjoy this, but i wrote this because i wanted to and i just thought i’d share it. i hope you enjoy!

series masterlist || main masterlist

Henry doesn’t mean to wake up one of his best friends in the middle of a school night, but truthfully, he had nowhere else to go. He didn’t know whether Charlotte and Jasper had made it out of Junk’N’Stuff in time before the collapse of all the Man Caves; he didn’t know where Piper and his parents were but he knew they weren’t at home; and he had no idea where Ray had ended up landing after deploying his parachute. Schwoz was still somewhere in the airport, last Henry knew. And besides, Henry had gone down with the blimp straight into Mount Swellview, and he still did not understand how he was still alive, but he knew his friends probably thought he’d died upon impact. That's why he found himself knocking on his best friend’s window at half past one in the morning on a school night, because her place was the first one he thought of when he woke up amongst the debris from the blimp. She is the only one unaware of his double life as Kid Danger, Captain Man’s sidekick.

He lets out a relieved sigh when he sees the light being turned on behind her curtains. He hears her footsteps getting closer, and the panic settles in his mind when he suddenly realizes he hasn’t changed back to his regular clothes. He’s still very much in his Kid Danger uniform, but he has no time to chew some gum and blow a bubble to hide his secret identity from Y/N because just as he realises he’s still in his superhero uniform, she pulls back the curtains from her window and opens the latch, making Henry stumble forward into her room, landing face first on her carpeted floor.

“K– Kid Danger?”

Her voice is soft and full of sleep, and Henry realizes she has yet to see his face. A groan leaves his lips, and he uses the strength he has left in him to push himself back up, bracing himself for her reaction upon seeing his face, half-revealed due to the half-ripped mask, as he sits against the wall under her window.

“Hen– Henry?”

“Hey Y/N…”

Henry greets her with a sheepish smile as she stumbles back onto her bed. Her hands have flown to her mouth to muffle a gasp, probably trying to keep quiet so as to not wake up her parents. She blinks once, shaking her head.

“Oh my god…” She breathes out, reality settling in. “Oh my god! Oh my god! My best friend is Kid Danger… My best friend is Kid Danger!”

Her voice rises an octave higher with each sentence, eyes widening in full realization as she looks anywhere but at Henry sitting on her floor with his back against the wall. She stands up from her bed, arms falling at her sides as she starts pacing back and forth the length of her bedroom, muttering under her breath.

“I– I can’t believe it…” She whispers to herself, before she starts to ramble. “I– I mean… I kind of believe it now… It all makes sense. I knew something was fishy with you, and Charlotte and Jasper… even Piper… oh my god! They all knew you’re Kid Danger!” She says to herself, quickly glancing at Henry before averting her eyes and she begins pacing again. “I can't believe you lied to me. H– How did I not notice? You’re such a terrible liar! You’ve always been, ever since we’ve known each other, you’ve never been a good liar!” She pauses, taking a deep breath, and she runs a frustrated hand through her dishevelled hair. “I– I should have known… I should have figured it out! H– How did I not figure it out? H– How did you keep this from me? Wh– Why did you keep this from me?”

Her last question comes out as a heartbroken whisper, and Henry feels his chest tightens. He tries to forget about the pain spreading through his limbs from the blimp crash, his eyes solely focused on his oldest friend. He watches as she sits back on her mattress, head in her hands, and he swears he can hear his heart break when she finally looks him in the eyes, and he can see the tears welling up in hers. He bites down on his lip, lowering his gaze to her suddenly very interesting floor. He doesn’t know what to tell her, nor where to begin. By now, everyone probably believes that his alter-ego has died when the blimp crashed onto Mount Swellview, sacrificing himself for the good of the city. And Y/N is, as far as he is aware, the only one who knows that Kid Danger is still alive.

But Y/N doesn’t say anything, and for a while Henry believes she has left her room because he cannot hear anything except for his rapid heartbeat and his trembling breath as he tries to forget about the pain in his body. Then, he feels a gentle touch on his shoulder and he lifts his head up, locking eyes with her. He wants to look away in shame, again, but her lips carve a gentle smile across her features, and she holds his gaze to hers as she drops down on the floor beside him, sitting cross-legged.

Y/N doesn’t know what to say to her best friend, her thoughts running wild in her mind. When she went to bed earlier, she did not expect to see Kid Danger standing outside her window at half past one in the morning. And she certainly did not expect Kid Danger to be her best friend. And yet, here he is, sitting on her bedroom floor with his silver and red mask half-ripped across his face, black ashes smeared across his skin, and pieces of his sidekick uniform burned here and there. She bites the inside of her cheek as she takes in his appearance, her gaze quickly flickering to the trails of dried blood hidden behind the ashes on his face. She sees him wince out in pain, inhaling sharply as he wraps an arm around his torso as if he were trying to stop the pain.

“A– Are you okay?” She asks, almost tentatively.

“I’ll live.”

Henry chuckles, but he grows quiet again when she glares at him, her lips pressed together in a thin line. Of course she can see right through him; they have known each other since they were babies, there is no point in lying to her. Especially when she can clearly see that he is not exactly fine. She just asked out of politeness.

He watches as she stands up and disappears in the bathroom adjacent to her bedroom, returning after a few minutes with a first-aid kit in her hands and a couple towels. She stays quiet as she sits back down beside him, handing him one of the towels before she opens the small red bag to take out some cotton pads and antiseptic.

“You’re covered in ashes.” She says without looking at him.

Henry lets out a breath, muttering a small sorry before he brings the towel to his face to wipe off the ashes. He stays silent when she takes the hand towel away from him, shifting her body so that she’s facing him, and she raises a hand to dab the cotton pad she holds against the cuts on his face. He bites down on the inside of his cheek to suppress a wince, but he can tell she noticed it when she whispers a small sorry and avert her eyes from his.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.” Henry blurts out when she’s done cleaning his face. He takes a deep breath. “I– I made an oath, back when I started, and… Piper found out by accident, it’s a long story. And Charlotte figured it out on her own, she was the first one to know and– and Jasper… Well, that one is kind of my fault actually. I thought he’d found out on his own, but it turns out it was something completely different and I ended up revealing myself to him. But them knowing? It put them in all kinds of danger, and I– I couldn’t put you through it too. I couldn’t risk something happening to you, if you knew about Kid Dan–”

“Henry?” Y/N interrupts him, and he sees the gentle smile on her face. “I understand.”

She says simply, and Henry lets out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding.

“I have questions, though.” She says next, and Henry tilts his head in confusion. “When we were fourteen, and I got stuck in an out-of-control elevator… Captain Man sent Kid Danger to help me. That was you?”

Y/N glances up to her friend with an eyebrow raised. She doesn’t know exactly how long he’s been Kid Danger, and perhaps someone else had had that role before him so she wasn’t certain he’d been the one rescuing her that day. When he cracks a smile, however, she knows it had been him, and she returns his smile.

“And the time that– that Doctor Maniac tried to take me because he thought I knew Kid Danger.” Y/N recalls, keeping up with her interrogations. “And Captain Man and Kid Danger just so happened to be where he was… that’s because you knew he’d come after me?”

“It's Minyak.” Henry corrects her, chuckling, but he looks down when she gives him a pointed stare. “But yeah… yeah, I knew.”

“How?”

“Jasper accidentally spoke out your name and mine when Doctor Minyak put a tab on the emergency line in the Man Cave.”

“Does he still know who you are?”

“No.” Henry shakes his head. “Captain Man wiped his memory of you and me. Minyak has no memory of who you are, and he only remembers me as Kid Danger, not Henry.”

Y/N nods and falls quiet, trying to process everything whilst she remembers the countless times she’s encountered Captain Man and Kid Danger, whether she was in actual danger or not. How had she never noticed the similarities between her best friend and the superhero’s sidekick? How did Henry manage to hide his secret identity from her for so long? She lets out a sigh, running her free hand over her face, before she turns to face her best friend.

“You look like you need some ice.” She says, nodding toward his arm across his torso. “I’ll be right back.”

Henry wants to say something, tell her that it’s not necessary but she is already walking out of her room, her footsteps soft against the carpeted floor. He glances at the clock on her bedside table, the bright red numbers letting him know he’d showed up to her window thirty minutes ago.

It doesn’t take Y/N long to return with a bag of frozen peas tucked under her arm, two empty glasses in one hand and a pitcher full of water in the other. She puts them on her bedside table, and then she whispers a small catch before throwing the bag of frozen peas at Henry. He grunts when the bag hits his lap, but he picks it up and presses it against his left side, the pain flaring up in his limbs as the cold seeps through his uniform.

“Here.” Y/N says, dropping fresh clothes next to him.

Henry realizes she doesn’t know about the bubble gum, or anything related to his Kid Danger life. He doesn’t need the clothes, he just needs to pop a bubble to change from his uniform, and yet he appreciates the gesture and he smiles when he sees the blush across her cheeks.

“Y– you can use the bathroom t– to change.” She stutters. “Your uniform is ruined.”

Henry hums in response and struggles to get up. He picks up the clothes from the floor, a brown long-sleeved shirt and a pair of plaid pants which he recognizes as his, and he heads for her bathroom.

When he returns from her bathroom, Y/N is sitting cross-legged on her mattress, and she is fiddling with her fingers, biting down on her lower lip. Henry sits next to her, the bag of frozen peas still pressed against his side, and he puts his free hand on her shoulder, pulling her out of her thoughts.

“Thanks, for the clothes.” He tells her.

“I told you leaving clothes at each other’s place would come in handy.” Y/N smiles, gently nudging his shoulder.

Henry shakes his head, and he sees the clock on her bedside table again displaying the time: 2:10AM. Guilt washes over him and he averts his eyes from her, her bed covers becoming interesting.

“I'm sorry.” He apologizes. “F– for showing up at your window in the middle of the night. I– I didn't know where else to go…”

“What happened?”

Her voice is soft, and full of concern, pulling Henry in to look at her. He sees the way she bites on her lower lip, and he knows she’s worried. She always does this when she worries.

“It's not that bad.” He says, trying to reassure her. “You should see the other guy.”

That's a lie, and he knows it. Drex was dropped into Swellview’s prison by Jasper via drone before he could reach the ground so, even without his indestructibility, Drex is fine. Better than Henry. But when he sees her brows furrow and the sharp line on her lips, he sighs and shakes his head.

“I crashed down on top of Mount Swellview with a blimp.” Henry blurts out.

“What?!” Y/N shouts without thinking, and Henry winces.

“It would’ve crashed into the Swellview Baby Hospital if I didn’t do anything!” He justifies himself. “I couldn't just stand by and watch.”

“You could’ve died! How are you not dead?”

Y/N springs up from her bed, and she begins pacing back and forth again, running her hands through her hair and tugging at some strands in frustration. But that’s one question Henry doesn’t have the answer to, how he is still alive. He wishes he could give her an answer, and he probably could have if Schowz was around with a logical explanation to it. Unfortunately, the clock was reaching two fifteen in the morning, and Schowz probably thought Henry died, like everyone else thought in this town.

“I wish I could give you an answer to that question.” Henry admits when Y/N sits back down next to him with a heavy sigh leaving her lips. “Truth is, I have no idea. I was on top of the blimp, steering it away from the baby hospital into Mount Swellview. Next thing I know, a bird ricocheted off of me and I crashed into the mountain.”

Y/N stays silent, trying to process everything that her best friend has dropped on her as she looks down on her lap. It suddenly dwells on her just how much danger her best friend has put himself through. She remembers everything she’d seen on the news about Kid Danger and Captain Man, and she wonders how Henry has managed to stay alive after six years, give or take. She doesn’t know for how long he’s been Kid Danger, but she can take a guess.

“You had to be a hero, didn’t you?” Y/N says, and Henry can hear the judgemental tone in her usually soft-spoken voice. “I still can’t understand how you’re still alive… I mean, you literally crashed on top of Mount Swellview! The impact should have killed you. Don’t get me wrong, I am so happy that you’re alive, because I would have killed you if I found out from Charlotte or Piper, or even Jasper that you died. I would have found a way to bring you back to life, just to kill you again for dying while trying to be a hero.”

She is on a rant again, which makes Henry smile a little. He cannot blame her for ranting so much, he did hide a lot of things from her for the past six years, and he knows she must have a lot of questions for him.

“Oh my god!” Her voice reaches his ears again. “Does anyone know that Kid Danger is at my house?”

Henry shakes his head. “No. Not even Charlotte or Jasper. Or Piper. They probably think Kid Danger is dead.”

Y/N looks at Henry with wide eyes. How can he be so chill about the whole situation, she wonders. Then again, he must have gone through crazy things while being Captain Man’s sidekick.

She runs a hand through her hair, another sigh leaving past her lips as she looks up to her best friend. Without thinking much of it, she rests her head on his shoulder as she fiddles with her fingers. If she had paid any attention to that, she would have noticed how her best friend stiffened afterward, trying not to move an inch, afraid to disrupt her comfort. He knows how tired she must be, and he is aware that today is graduation day; the last day of high school ever. He knows how much she is looking forward to it. But here they were, at two fifteen in the morning, awake and unable to sleep because he’d knocked on her window at half past one.

“Why do they think you’re dead?”

Her voice comes out as a sleepy whisper, and Henry isn’t sure he’s heard her right. But even if he didn’t, she has the right to know the truth. Perhaps there are some things he can leave out, but he owes her the truth; he knows that.

“Well… when I started being Captain Man’s sidekick,” Henry begins, “I didn’t have any superpowers. Then one day, there was this criminal, Drex. He escaped prison by accident and I found out he used to be Captain Man’s first sidekick. I obviously couldn’t defeat him when he came after Captain Man and me; I’m sure you’ve seen that video of Kid Danger getting spanked by Drex back then.” He pauses and Y/N hums, letting him know that she did see that video two years ago. “Anyway, because Drex had trapped Captain Man’s hands in a Nut Cluster machine and his head in a box, I had to take on Drex on my own, so he had his science genius to call on people from his weird country in order for me to gain superpowers– like Captain Man’s indestructibility.”

“Your hyper-motility, right?” Y/N asks him with a yawn. “I remember hearing about it on the news, when people started dumping rocks on their head because they thought Kid Danger had an incurable disease.”

Henry lets out a breathy laugh. “Yeah, but hyper-motility is actually super fast reflexes, like hand-eye and foot-eye coordination.” Y/N nods in understanding, allowing him to continue. “Anyway…” Henry goes on, “after facing Drex, twice, there was this guy, Rick Twitler, who wanted to destroy the internet forever by using a super fast and indestructible virus. Long story short, he tried to steal Captain Man’s indestructibility and he stole my hyper-motility. I managed to get it back for a few hours through science and a super fast bee, but Schowz had created an antidote against the virus that could also take back my powers forever if my skin touched it.”

“You touched it, didn’t you?”

“Not the point… but yes. I had to, to win against Rick Twitler’s virus. The vial had broken on the ground and I had to take off my gloves during the fight if I didn’t want to turn into an evil virus person. I had no idea where Captain Man was, and I had to stop the virus from reaching the satellites, so I gathered what was left of the antidote in my hands and I smeared it onto the virus, destroying it and losing my powers in the process.”

Henry sighs as he recalls his fight against Rick Twitler’s virus, wondering if he’d still have his hyper-motility had Captain Man been with him in the satellite dish when it happened. Y/N shifts next to him, removing her head from his shoulder as she brings a hand up to scratch her scalp, like she did every time she was thinking about something.

“So…” she trails out, “you what? Lost your powers around six months ago? Right?” Henry nods and Y/N goes on. “You should have died tonight, when you crashed with the blimp…”

She states in disbelief. She stands up from her bed and begins to pace again. Henry doesn’t know what to say to her, because he himself has no explanation for what happened.

“And, who’s Schowz?” She asks her best friend then, raising a brow.

“He’s a science genius that works for Captain Man.” Henry tells her. “He’s the one who called on the people who gave me my hyper-motility.”

Y/N nods her head, but Henry can tell she’s still thinking about something. Perhaps she’s trying to figure out how it’s possible that he’s still alive after the blimp incident. She lets out a soft sigh when she sits next to him again and rests her head back on his shoulder, wrapping her arms around his own as she begins to fiddle with a corner of the frozen bag of peas. It’s not so frozen anymore, and Henry doubts it does much to ease the pain of the growing bruise on his side, but he doesn’t want Y/N to be mad at him if he discards it somewhere in her room. He can feel her body growing heavier as she leans into him, and when she groans he knows she is fighting against the sleep that threatens to overpower her. He wants to tell her to go to sleep, that he’ll sneak out of her room through the window, but he’s got nowhere else to go. He knows the cavemen that Drex had sent have destroyed most of his house, and he cannot just show up like nothing happened. He doesn’t know whether Captain Man, or his friends, or even his parents, have gone to see the remnants of the blimp crash onto Mount Swellview. He doesn’t know if they believe he’s dead, or if they figured he’s still alive after not finding his body amongst the debris from the crash.

“Maybe we should call Charlotte.” Y/N says eventually, cutting through the comfortable silence and pulling Henry away from his thoughts. “Maybe she has an explanation as to why you’re not dead. Or maybe we should call Captain Man’s sciencey guy; maybe he knows what’s up with you.”

Her voice fades in the background as Henry suddenly remembers: the Omega Weapon. It dwells on him like a meteor falling from the sky straight onto the Earth. The weapon they used to strip Drex from his indestructibility, stripping Captain Man of his in the process. When Henry used the Omega Weapon on them, it went off with a blast that knocked out everyone standing close to the weapon. He jerks forwards, dropping the bag of peas onto Y/N’s bed, and his best friend comes into focus when she yelps out in surprise and he looks at her, eyes wide in realisation.

“The Omega Weapon.” Henry breathes out.

“The what now?” Y/N asks, somehow fully awake now.

“The Omega Weapon. It’s something Schowz built in order to take away Drex’s indestructibility, and I guess something happened when I fired it.” He pauses, extending one hand towards her. “Give me your phone.”

“What? Why?”

“Mine broke during the crash. Give me your phone.”

Y/N shakes her head and reluctantly gives her phone to Henry. She doesn’t even need to unlock it because she knows he knows her password. He has it memorized by heart in the back of his mind. She watches as he composes an unknown number and presses the call button. He puts the phone on speaker, and the pair of them can hear three ringtones before someone answers on the other side of the line.

“Y/N? How do you know this number?” Charlotte’s voice echoes on the line.

“Charlotte!” Henry says before Y/N can speak. “Is Schowz with you?”

“Henry? You’re alive? Why do you have Y/N’s phone?”

“Charlotte, please! I need to talk to Schowz.”

The two friends can hear Charlotte groan on the other side of the line, followed by more chatters and questions, before a voice with a thick accent answers the phone.

“It’s me! Schowz, from work!”

“Schowz! It’s Henry. I need to know, did anything happen to the kids who were with us at the Swellview Airport after I fired the Omega Weapon at Ray and Drex?”

“Kids?!” Y/N whisper-shouts, hitting Henry’s shoulder. “You didn’t tell me there were kids!”

“Not now Y/N, please.” Henry whispers back, pleading with his eyes.

“Eh, yeah, yeah. They have powers now.”

Henry can hear more commotion on the other side of the line, and he can imagine either Charlotte or Ray snatching the phone from Schowz’s hands.

“Henry?” It’s Charlotte again. “What happened? I thought you were going to steer the blimp into Mount Swellview?”

“I did! It crashed!”

“And then he came to my house!” Y/N interrupted, standing up. “Dressed as Kid Danger!”

“How are you ali– wait… You know Henry’s Kid Danger, Y/N?” Charlotte asks, now realizing Y/N is, indeed, with Henry.

“Yeah, I do! He showed up at my window in the middle of the night, in his Kid Danger uniform! Now, before I go mad with more questions, is anyone going to tell me how Henry is still alive after crashing into Mount Swellview with a goddamn blimp?”

Henry winces when Y/N raises her voice, and he picks up on the worry and fear hidden behind her words. Yes, he did not tell her about his secret identity to protect her, and yes, she had told him she understood why he didn’t tell her, but she’s always been a better liar than him, and he realises just how worried and hurt and afraid she is about the whole situation. His chest tightens, and he swallows the growing lump in his throat as he watches her face fall when she looks at him. He sees the hurt, and the concern hidden behind her irises, and the tears that threaten to roll down her cheeks. Instinctively, he reaches out for her hand and he squeezes it softly in comfort as he pulls her toward him, and she finally sits down next to him, taking deep breaths to calm herself down.

“I think the Omega weapon gave you powers.” Charlotte says through the phone. “Like it gave powers to Miles, Chapa and Bose; the kids that were with you and Ray at the Swellview Airport. Did you glow somehow, before the crash?”

“Uh… yeah. Yeah, I did.” Henry tells her, but he keeps his eyes on Y/N. “And a bird ricocheted off of me. Like I was protected from it crashing into me, somehow.”

“I think the Omega weapon gave you a force field.” Schowz’s voice echoes.

“And it kept you from going up in flames with the blimp.” Charlotte adds.

Y/N lets out a relieved breath; they finally have a logical explanation, of sorts. She closes her eyes as she lets herself fall backward onto her bed, her hand slipping from Henry’s. Opening her eyelids again, she looks up at her ceiling with tears brimming the corner of her eyes. Henry glances at her from above his shoulder, body slumping down from seeing the current state she’s in. He glances back at the phone, sighing when he can hear Ray in the background, shouting at God knows who for yet another person knowing about Kid Danger being Henry.

“I uh– I gotta go.” Henry says. “Thanks Charlotte. And Schowz. I’ll catch you later.”

He doesn’t give them the time to answer, having already pressed down onto the ending call button. He carefully puts his friend’s phone onto her bedside table, and he lets himself fall down beside her with a wince as the pain spreads through his body. He shifts in his spot as he lays beside her, and he slightly turns his head to look at her.

“You would have died, if you didn’t have a superpower…” Y/N whispers, her voice breaking a little. “You were willing to go down with the blimp, not knowing you actually had powers. You were willing to die, Hen… Why?”

Henry can see the tears silently escaping the corner of her eyes, falling onto her bedsheets. There are a number of possibilities as to why she would cry now, and not earlier; it could be the stress of the situation wearing off of her, or the sudden understanding of how dangerous his life actually is and she was left in the dark for all of it. Or it could be an entirely different reason, he actually had no idea why she was crying.

“Why did you have to be a hero, all of the sudden?” She asks and her voice waivers. “Couldn’t you just let Captain Man steer the blimp into Mount Swellview?”

“I’m not graduating tomorrow.” Henry admits, ignoring her second question as he turns his head to look up at her ceiling, avoiding her eyes. “I didn’t get enough credits, because I was too busy saving this town with Ray– I mean, Captain Man. I forgot to have a life of my own.”

From his answer, Y/N can figure out two things; one: that Ray, Henry’s boss at Junk’N’Stuff, is also Captain Man; and two: he probably wouldn’t have chosen to crash down with the blimp if he were graduating high school. For some reason, however, she understands why Henry did what he did; that perhaps in the heat of the moment, going down as a hero was the best option if he weren’t graduating. She sniffles, rolling around her mattress as she props herself up onto one arm, looking at her best friend.

“You still have summer school.” She says after thinking about his answer. “You can attend to have enough credits to graduate. Like Piper. She managed to graduate tomorrow because of summer classes, right?”

Henry hums in response, the exhaustion of the events settling into every bone in his body. Tiredness seeps into his limbs, and he tries with all his might to keep his eyes open. He doesn’t want to fall asleep in his best friend’s bed when he was the one waking her up in the first place. Then again, he has nowhere to sleep. The Man Caves have all been blown up, and his house had completely been trashed down by the cavemen sent by Drex.

“You know what?” Y/N asks, pulling him out of his thoughts. “I’ll help you study for summer classes, so you can get your credits.”

“Why?” Henry wonders.

“There is no way I’m going to let my best friend be stuck in high school without me. Remember what we promised each other when we were four?”

Henry chuckles. Of course he remembers the promise they made to each other when they were four. How could he forget about it, when his mother had snapped a picture of this moment and he had it framed on his bedside table at home. He turns around on her bed, facing her and mimicking her position, resting his head in the palm of his hand as he smiles at her.

“How could I forget? You know I have that picture on my bedside table.”

“So… deal?” She asks, a knowing smirk on her lips. “You know it’s always going to be you and me, no matter what.”

Henry lets out a laugh, shaking his head at her antics. “Deal.”

#the one where... series #henry danger #henry hart x reader #henry hart imagines #writerinlearning

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jeonbunnie · 1 year ago

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hate you

pairing: reader x jeon jeongguk

summary: This time, the break up breaks Jeongguk

genre: angst

content/warnings: ex-boyfriend!jeongguk; established relationship;break up!au; drinking; suggestive thoughts

Soundtrack: hate you— by Jeongguk

a/n:hi hi! long time no see. thought i’d break into the new year with a lol drabble based on beloved lol drabble i wrote last year. you don’t have to read the last posts to understand but you read them for context here and here.

word count: 1.2K

It's not the truth. It's not the cure. But hatin' you's the only way it doesn't hurt.

Jeongguk tipped his head back, letting the liquid gold slide down his throat. Chugging his beer was nothing, especially when he’d had so much practice lately. But when he slammed down his empty glass on the bar, there was no satisfaction or warmth blooming in his chest to erase that hollow feeling lingering inside him since last year.

Since you.

“Hey, slow down,” chided Namjoon beside him. “Haven’t you had enough?”

No. Jeongguk’s sure there’s not enough alcohol at this party to drown out the taste of your lips on his or the memory of what it felt like to hold you in his arms and feel your smile against his cheek. Not when he has a front-row seat to watch you do all those things with someone else.

But damn it all to hell. He’d rather die trying than sit here sober with the cold, hard reality of watching you move on with someone new.

Jeongguk doesn’t mean to be an ass, ignoring his best friend’s concerns (he’s sure they’re valid). It’s self-preservation, not noncompliance, that has him reaching back into the cooler to pull out another cold one.

“Jeongguk, I’m worried about you.”

Jeongguk laughed. “I’m fine,” he said. . . But his voice is low and bitter and sharp like poison.

Namjoon shook his head, “You’re not fine, Jeongguk. You’ve been self-destructing since you broke up with (Y/n).”

“Yeah, well, maybe this is my karma.”

Jeongguk used to think luck or fate brought the two of you together, having always run in the same friend groups and circles. But now, it seemed his luck had run out, or fate thought it’d be a cruel joke to keep him in your orbit even after you broke up.

No, this had to be some kind of punishment for running away from your love. In return, he was forced to watch your love story play out with someone else.

Literally. Jeongguk’s so fucking jealous; it’s all he can do not to stride across the room and rip you away from the stranger you’re currently entangled with. The sight is enough to make his blood boil, and he can’t help the tick in his jaw or keep the glare out of his eyes.

Jeongguk can’t stop staring at the fucker who has his tongue down your throat.

It should be his tongue down your throat. His hands on your ass, pulling you close and your grinder, your bodies impossibly close, and only hoping to get closer. Because you’re his.

Or at least you used to be.

The thought alone is enough to have Jeongguk flag down another drink. But before he could reach for another cold one, Namjoon blocked him off. “No. You’ve already had one too many.”

“So what? Who cares if I get a little fucked up?”

“I care. This isn’t you.”

Jeongguk couldn’t help the rueful smile that split across his lips. “Maybe it is me. I fucked it all up.”

That’s the worst part. That ugly feeling in his chest, the jealousy burning him up inside as he watched you love another. It was all his fault.

It made Jeongguk sick to see you laugh, eyes sparking at something this asshole said because he remembers when that look was reserved only for him. And now here you were, giving it to another. Jeongguk knew he had no right to feel this jealousy. Not when he’s the one who set you free. But still—It should be him taking you home tonight, stripping off your clothes, pounding into your tight little—

Fuck.

Just the thought of having you again had him hard. He couldn’t turn it off, the need for you. He couldn’t keep his hands off you even when he ended things. He replayed that last night in his head like a broken record, but he couldn’t rewind time like he did his memories.

“Jeongguk. . .are you crying?”

“No,” he said. And then, “Maybe.”

“We don’t have to be here. You wanna get fucked up? We can do that in any bar. It doesn’t have to be here.

“Why are you torturing yourself?”

“You’re a good friend, Joon. But I can’t. I can’t walk away.” Yeah, he knew it was ruining him, making him bitter, but if this was the only way he could be close to you, then so be it.

He can’t help it. That’s what he tells himself. He can’t help but watch you—crave you—even if you don’t so much as glance in his direction.

Or maybe he’s torturing himself because it’s what he deserves.

“I’m not gonna watch you destroy yourself over some girl.”

“She’s not just some girl.”

You were everything. You were golden. Or at least that’s what it felt like, loving you.

You were the heat of summer. The only warmth on a cold winter day. You were the golden light of the first sunrise and the radiant glow of the sun setting low. You were the only bright spot in this cold, dark world.

You were the fucking sun.

And without you, Jeongguk might as well be dead inside.

Jeongguk wasn’t blind (but god, did he wish he was right now). He knew it was over. It was clear as day you’d moved on—and worse—that you’re happy with someone new, someone that’s not him. He starts towards you, ready to tell you as much, get on his knees, beg your forgiveness again, and plead for your safe return into his arms when the world tilts and his vision blurs.

It’s Joon who helped him stay upright. Joon, who took the beer can from his hands and slung an arm around his shoulder, guided him through the crowd.

“You’re so wasted up right now. I’m taking you home.”

Joon, who drove him back to his apartment and led him to the bed.

It felt like seconds, or maybe it’s been hours; Jeongguk couldn’t tell. He’s too fucked up to be sure of the footsteps he takes passing between doors. He only knew where he was when his face planted into the comforter, and the laundry scent told him he was home.

Because it’s your scent. Or rather, the smell of your laundry detergent. It was the only thing you left behind when you moved out, and now Jeongguk bought it for himself, clinging to the only piece of you he could have. He could almost pretend you were right there with him if he got under the sheets and closed his eyes.

Jeongguk’s the one who broke it off, but he can’t even remember the reason why now. It was stupid, thinking your relationship was too comfortable, too boring. Maybe it wasn’t perfect, but it was good, wasn’t it? Why did he ever want to explore something else? But in the short months you were apart, all he discovered was that for him, there was no one else.

Jeongguk wished he could blame it on something, someone, anything else. It’d be easy to blame it on you, but you were blameless. He almost wished that you lied, that the betrayal he felt blooming had started when you were still together so that this anger inside him could be directed elsewhere.

It’d be so much easier to paint you as the villain, but that’s not who you are in his story. You’re the one who got away.

It’d be so much easier for Jeongguk to hate you—not love you.

But he can’t. So, instead, he just hates himself.

For being weak and losing you.

For falling in love too late.

#bts fic #jungkook x reader #jungkook angst #bangtanbathhouse #jeongguk x reader #bts angst #jeongguk angst #jungkook drabble #jeongguk drabble #poc reader #songfic #my fics.🍪

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xfeiteism · 11 days ago

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funny acts | vein

you thought it'd be funny to mess with your lover just for the shits and giggles, even though you should've known better when the lover in question is none but vein himself.

w.c: 0.9k

a.n: purely wrote this so i could make my headcanon of vein calling his s/o 'darling' a reality.

fully dressed in his usual, stylish work attire, vein is surprised upon entering the bedroom just to see that you’re… anything but that.

the curtains are still as drawn over the window as they were when he left the room earlier this morning. strings of light pass through the fabric, faint but enough to reveal the mess of hair just barely peeking up from the top of the duvet. it’s more quiet than death ever would be, and he could almost begin to wonder whether you’ve suffocated in your curled up, cramped space, had it not been for the rising and sinking of your figure with each breath you take. he has to stifle a laugh, briefly thinking about how he’s never seen someone sleep so deeply with not a single care for the world.

then again, it’s past one in the afternoon. you have to wake up at some point.

while making his way closer, vein places his signature metal fan on one of the drawers. the same hand that’d been holding onto it settles on top of the sheets, supporting his weight as he leans over your figure. the index finger of the other crooks around the edge of the duvet, carefully pulling it down far enough to reveal your awfully peaceful face.

“isn’t it time you wake up, y/n?” vein hums, rising an eyebrow when you don’t as much as stir even a little. “it’s getting pretty late.” there’s a reaction for once, though nothing more than a short-lived grimace. the next reaction, just a short while later, is an unconscious shiver when you’re exposed to a chill as he pulls the duvet down a bit more.

“darling,” he attempts, pausing to lean closer and place a light kiss to your lips. pulling away, he doesn’t miss the way they slightly pucker for a moment as if chasing after his own. this time, he can’t hold back a quiet laugh despite continuing, “are you perhaps not feeling well?”

“...”

once again, no reaction. and once again, vein leans down for another kiss. “you know i don’t like funny acts like that,” he speaks, softly yet making the reminder clear, “keep this up and you’re going to leave me with no choice.”

“...”

the current freezes for a few seconds, as if to observe whether there’s going to be some sign of further life from you. there’s nothing, and he realizes he’s left with no choice after all; vein dives in again, letting his lips stay locked with yours longer than before; he parts, very briefly, one of his hands finding its way below your back to hold you closer. another kiss, and another, and another.

“how much longer are you going to pretend you’re the sleeping beauty?”

your eyes don’t open but - at last - you crack the smile that’s been threatening to reveal itself for a while now. you feel the linger of another touch to your lips and although you don’t speak, you don’t try to hide the way you respond to it. it drags a low laugh out from your lover.

vein leads his other hand further up, cradling the back of your head - it’s a sweet gesture, but you’re aware it’s also purposely blocking any opportunity for escape as he lands one kiss after another. each is a bit deeper than the previous, and you’re certain he unfortunately doesn’t miss your light flinch upon feeling his tongue swipe across your bottom lip. it continues like that, until you eventually reach the inevitable.

well, vein doesn’t, but you gradually begin to feel out of breath, and maybe you’re soon to be more likely to suffocate than you did earlier, cocooned under the duvet.

you’ve lost count of exactly how many kisses it’s been until instinct abruptly has you slapping his chest in an attempt to give you some air.

“there we go,” he laughs, equally heartedly as proudly. “wasn’t that hard, was it?”

“vein, you’re ruthless!” you laugh back, not bothering fighting back when he helps you sit up. “what if you seriously knocked me out there!”

he responds with a much amused chime, “please, i would never.” still standing on his feet, he reaches to hold your face in the warmth of his hands and looks down at you. although the pride and smugness doesn’t leave his face, his voice falls the slightest bit softer. “you slept a lot, dear. you’re not getting sick, right?”

deeply breathing out, you slightly nestle your face into one of his palms. “nope. i’m just sleepy.”

“oh, is my little darling feeling eepy today?” vein coos and judging by the silly tone of his voice as well as the playful grin he flashes, you know he’s thoroughly entertaining himself by messing with you. in return, you shoot him a glare, although only half-seriously.

“i don’t know where you picked up eepy from, but never say that again,” you grimace and arch your head away from his hold. “get out, i’m getting changed.” he laughs once more, but opts to not disturb you any longer as he turns around on his heels. in the meantime, you kick the duvet off and stand up as well. “gosh, almost thought i'd throw up there.”

“yeah, whatever,” vein sing-songs, curling his arms up in a shrugging manner and picking back the metal fan on his way out, “take your time, morning breath.”

“i don’t have morning breath!”

#link click #link click imagines #link click x reader #link click fluff #vein #link click vein

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fancyfade · 12 days ago

Text

Massive comic bookbinding progress post.

Making a massive bookbinding post with my progress and what resources and steps I use. I do not claim to be an expert and recommend if you want to get into bookbinding yourself you look into any linked tutorials (or find some yourself), because they are made by people with much more experience.

So. When I just got into bookbinding, I was following an instructables tutorial for (link) most of the book. the sewing part, I was following this (link) tutorial. The cover tutorial (instructables) wasn't great for what I currently do, and I changed a lot looking back on it, but it had the bonus of suggesting cheap materials (Cardboard for covers, elmer's glue for spine, any spare fabric for bookcloth) that helped lower the barrier to entry and let me decide if I wanted to buy nicer stuff.

This is the first book I ever bound, using the instructables tutorial.

It's not the prettiest construction wise, but I can still hold it and read it which is at least successful for a first book (tho I did test on comics I didn't care as much about, in case I messed up).

I did a couple more books like this, one being Blue Beetle: Graduation Day (in Spanish) and the other being Artemis: Requiem, and another being Knight Terrors.

Artemis Requiem I think was the last

Next, I found and started using Dave the Designer's tutorial (link) and also got some materials actually targeted at bookbinding. I got bookbinding needles and thread (much thicker and stronger, it's easier to pull the threat through and it feels stronger) and davey board -- though since then I have tried chipboard which is muuuuuuuuuuuuch cheaper and works just as well unless you have a giant comic. Sometimes you have to lay weights on chipboard after gluing it to make sure it doesn't bend though, it likes bending when it is wet a lot.

I did a ton of books in this period. I was mostly interested in making books that had good construction and were good for protecting the comics I sewed together and felt structurally sound. I did not care at all about what the covers looked like, and just wrote titles on them with sharpie. I used mostly linen cloth, buckram cloth, or occasionally spent money on book cloth

After this, my friend linked me this (link) youtube tutorial. It does not get into sewing, because the goal of that person's tutorial is not how to sew but how to rebind paperbacks as hardbacks with fancy covers. The main focus for what I watched is on covers. They use a cricut, I got the cheapest I could find (Joy xtra, not maker or any of the big kinds). It still is expensive (like 150 dollars), and in the linked playlist the youtuber includes how you can decorate without a cricut, though that does leave less freedom for what you can choose... UNLESS you are an artist already!

Shortly before I got the cricut, I did Eric Luke's WW Run

This was when I was getting frustrated I couldn't make the books look pretty on the outside, so I drew a sketch in pencil and colored in with paint pens i had bought for action figure modding (tho im sure any type of sharpies would work).

Anyway, after that I started using the Cricuts for covers. This is the first one:

i messed up on the heat transfer vinyl stuff, so I had to repaint some parts with yellow paint. I haven't had these issues since I started using the bookcloth materials recommended by the cricut youtuber I linked earlier, which are also generally cheaper per unit than where I was getting bookcloth earlier (but shipping is expensive)

Now I do almost all my bookcovers with cricut because once you have the machine it's reasonably priced, the vinyl is pretty cheap, and it's easier on my spoons than hand drawing everything and lets you customize a lot

Lately, I've been trying to make my sewing/construction technique better, and I've been watching videos from DAS bookbinding (link). I tried to do my most recent Huntress comic with the rounded + backed spine with shoulders, not sure that I succeeded, but that's definitely on me because in the tutorial where he explains how to do it without the official material he's like "You should try this with proper equipment first, this is just for binders who took a course and could do the shouldering in a bookbinding course and want to try it on their own without having to buy the proper equipment" and. I have never done a real bookbinding course or used the proper equipment.

Hope this was informative/fun if you made it through!

#bookbinding #custom comic books #my custom bound books #progress #my art

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todorokis-girl · 9 months ago

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I Never Knew You Were Alive - Soulmate AU (I)

Touya Todoroki x f!Reader

This has been on my mind for so so long, and it's been forever since I wrote anything, So I apologize if it's sub par

Chapter I: So it starts Chapter II: A late arrival Chapter III: belive of be doomed Chapter IV: What are we doing? Chapter V: Last minute encounter Chapter VI: Deciding to fall in love with you

Masterlist

Next chapter

__________________________________________________________

"You chose them over me!" Deep turquoise eye bore so deeply into mine, the pressure on my chest, in my heart, seemed to increase.

"I didn't chose anyone over you Touya", anger, misplaced anger, seeped out of my word "I didn't even know you were alive!" A sob escaped me, which made the current situation so much more real. it had been years.. years of pain, thinking he was dead. How dare he? How dare he imply I chose anything in this situation, I chose the option that would have kept me closer to him. When he was dead.

"We have marks with each others names, we feel what the other feels", he took exasperated steps towards me getting closer and more menacing as he got closer, the feeling of safety slowly washing off me, would he hurt me? would he kill me? "You're gonna look at me in the eye, and tell me, you didn't know I was alive?"

The question was one that burned inside me, ever since I found out he was alive, and it killed me knowing that he wasn't only alive, but with the villains, it drove me crazy and I could barely sleep. I wondered during the years why occasionally I would feel things that were simply not my own; but how was I to know? He was dead, it was a fact, he died in his fire!, so young, faking your own death that young wasn't realistic to think about. I didn't... other than sudden anger, sadness and occasional pleasure, the feelings didn't range far or even often.

"I didn't! I really didn't know, had I know ANY of this, I would hace been on your side no questions asked," I pulled my legs closer to me, the fight we had engaged in didn't fair well on my body. The burns from his fire were negligible, the burn from my own ice, though, if not treated soon could start causing decay "You think I wanted to sit by and let him do any of those things to Shouto? That it brought me pleasure in any way to say your mother hospitalized? Natsuo and Fujumi so neglected?" The tears finally started pouring out, this was emotionally too much, hopelessness and guilt was bubbling up and started to eat me inside "I don't care anymore, just, kill me if you have to"

The Todoroki's took me in, not because of me but because of him, for him. They swore he would have wanted me to be a part of their family, all the other soulmates of their kids were just as welcomed. Enji took it upon himself to look for all their kids soulmates, as soon as posible. We all knew how.... intense, Enji Tododroki could be, but we stayed for our soulmates. They weren't a perfect family, or even a good one; but I wanted Touya with me so badly, and his family was all that was left; his grave, his shrine, I needed him and I couldn't have him. Now what? It seems I never had anything of his at all.

"I'm not going to kill you" he said while slowly crouching down ro my eye level, the fire in his hand slowly being put out; the look in his eyes wasn't the thing giving his emotions away but the bond we had, I understood the resignation and the conflict happening in his heart "but, we are in a bit of a bad situation right now, doll" I swallowed thickly and rested the back of my head in what was left of the concrete wall behind me.

"I'm not leaving the kids to be killed" I said after a moment of silence, having had to steel my mind and build my resolve; making sure I understood what I was potentially giving up.

"I'm not going to leave the league" he replied after a deep breath, and I could hear the same resolve in his voice.

and, there in lies our problem.

I straightened up my head to look at him again, his hands reaching to the ice around me, I assumed to melt it "don't... it hurts"

He looked up at me and stopped, taking a quick Look over me. "You have to do something about the ice, or you'll be short an arm and maybe a leg"

The cold was starting to set, over my body, and as usual it started to build in my extremities, I could barely feel my nose and my fingers anymore.

I ignored him, the current situation not leaving my mind at all, my injuries could wait "What do we do?"

"What we've been doing", he hesitantly reached to touch my cheek, providing much needed warmth, his thumb lightly brushing my nose "I'm dead, sweetheart" He proceded to hold my hands for a while, and I wished the warmth building up in my body could stay forever.

he immediately stepped away from me the moment we could hear running, signaling that there were heros were here "Your helps here," he said something to himself and slowly he was swallowed by some black goo "Don't die on me, I gotta see you at the end of this, however that goes"

_____________________________________________________________

One years before

I casually walk into endeavors hero agency, waving at the receptionist at the entrance of the building, taking notice of how I was being watched by people outside the glass of the building, being the one member of the agency to not hold a fire quirk, I was special, but not really; it provided a little bit of hope to the heroes in training that wanted to be hired and didn't have a fiery quirk, even if me being here was nothing less of nepotism, but I owed Endeavor a lot and I couldn't refuse.

Once I made it to the elevator I made it all the way to my desk in autopilot, not taking much notice of the things going on around me.

"Blue Bird!" I looked up and spotted the blond hair before anything else.

"Hawks" I roll my eyes at him and placed my coffee on my desk, avoiding the recognizable load of paperwork. What was he doing here anyway? I knew about the whole forced partnership with Hawks and Endeavor, but he was rarely at the agency.

The idea of him constantly calling me blue bird was getting old, my lack of a surviving soulmate didn't really made me deserving of the name. Enji Tododroki had done everything for me he possibly could, starting with proving me with a connection to my lost soulmate their family dynamic fucking sucked, ass, but I felt part of the family; and it was the one connection I could have with Touya, since he clearly wouldn't be around. Ever.

Fuyumi and Shouto had also had their soulmates brought into the fold, as soon as Enji could find them. We hadn't been able to find Natuo's yet, but he assured the process was ongoing, until they were found.

I was found shortly after Touya died, I never even got to see him alive. I hated the feeling, especially because sometimes I felt the delusion that maybe he was out there, but I didn't ever allow myself the thought, or it would kill me.

I look up at the winged hero carefully studying his stance, a mischievous bright smile on his face, as usual "Anything I can help with? Endeavor is out on patrol, I don't know when he'll back but I can tell you where he is if you'd like?" I went to sit down on my desk to look for the information I had just offered, before I could grab the chair to sit down I was stopped by a bright red feather in my line of sight.

"I didn't come looking for Endeavor, I can go to his secretary for that, or easily look for him myself" He walks closer to my desk looking it over carefully "I heard you were starting at UA soon, for a new 'alternative strategy' class?" I looked at him, with a confused look, what could he possibly want with me or UA, if he was scouting a student he could simply... call them? The sudden serious look he showed was making me uneasy.

"Yeah, I am. What about it?"

"You can't do that"

"Excuse me?" The finality of his statement, made the uneasiness grow even stronger, tension creeping up my shoulders, the situation. starting to make my soulmate mark itch.

It wasn't common the #2 Hero came over to you and said you couldn't take a job offer. UA seriously needed to teach alternative methods of taking down a villain that didn't just rely on their quirks. I as the person who suggested it in the first place, besides, Endeavor had said nothing of the sort. why would I listen to him?

"I don't think it's safe" He finally responded, after seeming to return from deep though

"Thank you so much for the concern Hawks, really, but I can handle myself" I finally looked away from him and proceeded to start on my paperwork. I just need to finish this and I can start the lesson plans " I already know it's not safe, for the kids, it's the whole reason why I took the job" The tension wasn't leaving, and the fact he stayed didn't help either, I could feel his eyes on my arm, where "Todoroki Touya" was permanently burned into my skin.

"I don't think it's safe" I continued to read over the documents, writing where I needed. The tension bubbling up every milisecond that he didn't drop the subject.

"Endeavor would've said something if he thought there would be an issue" I replied nonchalantly, feeling the pressure starting to bubble over.

Wasn't that this morning? hough to myself as I tried to remember when the specific event cited in the document happened.

"I still don't think it's safe" I sight and stare at him, not replying

...Bubble

"This whole thin is too dangerous, and the kids know enough to protect them" I could feel my brow tense my eyes not moving from his feature, the way he was looking me adding irritation

...Bubble...

"The league is everywhere, and their plans aren't pretty, I can't protect you if you're in the fire already" I attempted to take a deep breath, to calm myself down, feeling heat in my cheek slowly creeping up my arm, forgetting to remind myself to cool myself down in these situations.

Bubble... bubble...

"you're my best friend, and besides my soulmate, I don't really have many people I love" he said, almost pleading.

Bubble... Bubble...

POP!

I felt a strong heat settle on my face, the tension that bubbling up turning into anger, as I slammed the fancy black pen on my desk, reminding me seconds before, to cool down "For fucks sake, Keigo, what the HELL is this really about" The sound of glass hitting the floor and scattering filling the sudden silence between us, I closed my eyes tightly, in exasperation. Control your quirk, idiot. Before I opened my eyes I could feel the freezing cold coming from my desk sight and looked over the icy surface of my desk At least I didn't melt it.

"I'm not trying to undermine you, I know you're a very capable hero"

Hawks and I had became very unlikely friends as soon as we started hero work. I had studied at UA, after getting in from Endeavor's recommendation, hawks and I became really good friends after taking the hero licensing exam, teaming up every once in a while, and being on a coffee outing when he though he had found his soulmate

"Hawks, honestly, you can tell me my death is assured, and I am still doing it. I didn't get my hero license to hide when it's dangerous" I placed my hand on my desk relaxing as much as I could to melt the ice without hurting the structure of my desk "besides, I need something to keep me alive, I'm 22 and I already have half of me ripped away, please, just, let me do this? I would want to see a group of kids hopeful for their futures"

His smile didn't return, which meant he wasn't done, or something was still on his mind; maybe he was debating on saying it or not "The league has a weird focus on Endeavor, and I'm worried about you birdie"

I narrowed my eyes, anger or frustration, I don't know what I was feeling, but what was he trying to imply here "I can take care of myself"

"The protection at UA is for the students, not the teachers, who protects you?"

"Drop it Keigo, enough" I wiped the condensation in my desk, finally resolving the problem I caused, I only had to give it a couple minutes to dry "I'm not refusing the job at UA" I looked over his arm, carefully, protectively hiding his soulmate name. I didn't know her name, but I know her quirk, Levitation, just because he was kind enough to tell me about it in one of our outings a couple years ago.

"I want to finish my paperwork, so I can finish my lesson plans for next week, feel like allowing me to work, bird brain?" I allowed myself He stood up away from my desk and sight in resignation, his smile slowly returning.

"I'll drop in every once in a while," he turns around to leave and offers me a thumbs up "I'm sure it'll get the kids excited, and I'll ge to check up on you"

I smile and wave him off. Setting on a serious look when I saw him stepping out of the office.

I took a bite at the end of my pen, the feeling of Keigo hiding something from me settling deep within my soul, after finally looking at the interaction. My best friend, the second best hero in the country, sneaky, cunning, careful planner as he is, hiding something from me, and being worried that the league of villains could try something against me... that doesn't give me a bad feeling.... not at all.

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daisyvisions · 10 months ago

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[11:33PM] No Thoughts, Just You - (l.sy)

Warnings: Smut (18+, minors DNI), bully!sangyeon, masturbation, mentions of sex, degradation, face slapping, some brattiness. It’s simp sangyeon in the house y’all, we love to see it. Word Count: 0.6K

A/N: Been trying to write since my last posting but can’t seem to nowadays huhu so taking this as a way to exercise those writing muscles again, wrote this on the spot and not proofread. Realized I did not write for Sangyeon's bday so considered it my entry idc how late it is 🤪 Tagging @deoboyznet @aimeecarreros @snowflakewhispers @winterchimez

Thinking about bully!Sangyeon, who lays on his bed nearing the dead of night thinking about the intimate moment you had with one another the other day.

His member aches underneath his boxers, trying not to visualize the faces you made when he was balls deep inside you. Or the way you whined and acted so bratty towards him. God when you acted that way it always made him twitch inside. There was something about getting under your skin that turned him on.

What’s even better is the fact you revealed you had dreamt about him the way he had dreamt about you (And for Sangyeon, it was a ton of dreams about you.)

He doesn't even realize his hand is slowly traveling down south, his fingers caressing his bulge before he gives it a good tug. And before you know it, he’s already starting to jerk himself off, remembering what you sounded like, how you said his name in that voice…

Remembering the way your walls stretched out for him, and just for him. How they hugged his length so perfectly like this was meant to be. How he fucked you so good he’s sure he’s molded the shape and size of his thick cock inside you, ruining it for anyone who dare tries to get you the way he did in that classroom.

The pace of his hand starts to go faster, remembering how your hips rolled on him in that chair, the way he let you have it your way even just for a moment. He would let you have your way all the time to be honest, if only you weren’t so bratty.

But who's he kidding anyway? That’s one of the things that’s got him attracted to you like a moth to a flame. Someone who doesn’t treat him like the star student all the time, someone who is able to attempt to stand up to his bullshit, someone who can put him in his place.

He slowly starts to feel himself closer to the edge, huffing and moaning as he visualizes you riding him right now and taking control of him. Whispering the most degrading things to his ear, making him feel small. God even thinking about the way you slapped his face twice was making his manhood twitch and strain even further.

“Fuck…” he moans as he continuously pumps his cock. Pre-cum slowly oozing from the top of his tip and dripping down, acting like a lubricant to help him jerk off even more.

His high hits him out of nowhere, his cum shooting out so much to the point globs of it are just coating his hand, making a mess everywhere. He wishes he was cumming inside you right now, wished he did that day instead of blowing his load on your back.

Sangyeon slowly comes down from his high and steadies his breathing. He feels so out of it right now, his mind not thinking straight. It’s like you hypnotized him or something, because he just doesn't think of anything else except you. Like you’ve placed him under a spell he can’t get out of. It was driving him insane.

He regrets not being able to take his time with you, to be able to kiss every part of you body, worshipped you with his hands, praising you like you deserve it. Wishing he could perhaps love you properly instead of the current dynamic you have. To kiss to oh so pretty lips again and again and just melt into you, that would be the dream.

After cleaning up his mess he pauses for a moment and suddenly a lightbulb idea enters his brain. He opens his phone and taps on your chat with him. He hesitates at first seeing what he typed out, but if his assumptions were right, maybe you might somewhat feel the same too. So he sends out a message he never thought he would be sending to you in a million years,

“I miss you…”

#deoboyznet #lee sangyeon #sangyeon #sangyeon smut #sangyeon scenarios #sangyeon fic #sangyeon x reader #tbz smut #the boyz smut #the boyz hard hours #tbz scenarios #the boyz fic #the boyz fanfic #tbz drabbles #kpop smut #tbz hard hours #the boyz scenarios

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dandelionfairyyy · 1 year ago

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30 hours J. H.

Pairing: Jay Halstead x female!reader

Warnings: mention of injuries and violence, swearing, slight mention of blood, kidnapping, possible bad writing and mistakes

Wordcount: 4,076

A/N: please be kind, this is the first oneshot I wrote in a year or two and I am still super unhappy with this, but keep working on it would just make it worse I think. And my friends said I should just post it, so … Also, English is not my first language, please keep that in mind while reading. I hope you’ll like it anyway

Now without further ado… I present to you:

30 hours

You rub your face sleepily as you slowly wake up.

As you feel the weight of an arm around your waist, you can't help but smile.

You turn to Jay, whose arm is pressing you against him.

What started as a friendship has become so much more. And yesterday he finally asked you to marry him.

Gently you trace the contours of his face with your finger. Memories of last night come flooding back and you bite your lower lip as you think of Jay treating you to a little corner cafe before you took a walk along the Chicago River and him finally getting down on one knee in front of you.

Your eyes fall on the beautiful silver ring with the little stone set in it, on your finger.

"Morning," you say as you see Jay waking up.

"Morning," he replies in a raspy voice, giving you a smile that takes your breath away. "Sleep well?"

You nod before reaching a little further towards him and placing your lips on his.

God, you still can't believe that this wonderful man is now your fiancé.

Happily, you smile into the kiss and slightly part your lips for him. You feel his tongue gently nudging against yours and you feel yourself catapulted right back to last night. What his tongue had done to you...

You can't hold back a soft moan at the memory and you feel his knowing smile in your kiss.

As it becomes more intimate, Jay rolls over you and....

Your kiss is abruptly interrupted when a cell phone rings somewhere in the room.

Last night, on the way from the door to the bedroom, you had spread your clothes anywhere in the flat. His trousers had apparently made it into the bedroom.

"Don't answer it," you plead, wrapping your arms around his neck, knowing it's Jay's phone because Intelligence most likely has a new lead in the current case and he needs to get to the precinct. "Let's just stay in bed for a week," you suggest, with little hope of agreement, though.

Jay leans down a little towards you and kisses you intimately again for a few seconds before pulling away and going in search of his jeans. "As tempting as that sounds, I'm afraid I can't do that."

You sit up with a sigh as he gets out of bed and fishes the phone out of his pocket.

As expected, there's a new lead that needs to be followed up.

So you get up to make breakfast to go for him as he heads into the bathroom for a quick shower.

Wearing only one of Jay's t-shirts, you are standing at the kitchen counter pouring coffee into a to-go mug when you feel your fiancé standing behind you.

His hands are on your hips as he plants a kiss on your cheek.

"My angel," he murmurs and you turn your head so that your lips meet. "Have I ever told you how much I love you?"

"Once or twice..." you reply with a smirk.

"So not often enough."

You press the sandwich and the to-go mug of coffee into his hand and push him towards the door.

"I love you, too. And now you have to go. Work needs to be done."

It's Saturday, so you don't have to work and can devote yourself to other things, like grocery shopping or housekeeping.

Jay steals one last kiss before disappearing out the door with a "love you".

Heavens, even though you've known each other for five years and been a couple for three, you're still as much in love with this man as you were at the beginning of your relationship.

At first it was hard for you to come to terms with the fact that Jay often has to work late and sometimes he has to leave just because of work. But by now you've come to terms with it and Jay always makes it up to you in one way or another. Either with a romantic date, or little presents he gives you, and of course with the love he gives you every single day.

Lost in thought, you finally make your way to the supermarket. But soon you wish you had just stayed in bed with Jay.

"Y/N?", you hear an unknown voice behind you and turn around in confusion.

You don't know the man standing in front of you. But he seemed to know your name. He held out a wallet to you. "You just lost this," he says.

Unsure, you take it from him and look inside. Indeed, it contains your driver's license, your bank card, cash... and yet it is not your wallet. You've never seen this thing before in your life.

What the fuck?

You are about to reply that it is not your wallet when everything happens really fast. A black van pulls up next to you and the man who handed you the wallet before now pushes you backwards so that you lose your balance. Someone behind you catches you and you are finally thrown into the van. Your head hits the wall and an unpleasant hammering makes its way to the back of your head.

Doors slam and two seconds later the van speeds on.

It takes you a few seconds to realize what has just happened.

You have just been kidnapped.

That afternoon, Jay comes home in excitement at the sight of his fiancée in his arms again.

The current case, which has kept them on the go for a fortnight and got Jay out of bed this morning, has now been solved and he just wants to be with you, eat something and sleep.

But when he enters the flat, you are not there.

He checks all the rooms in the flat, but you are not to be found.

Are you with friends and forgot to tell him? Normally you always let him know if you're meeting someone, because you know that otherwise his detective brain will spin banal theories about what might have happened to you.

With a frown, he pulls out his mobile phone and tries to call you. But he is sent straight to voicemail. After the third attempt, he gives up and calls your best friend instead, deeply hoping that you are with her, or at least that she knows where you are.

But with her, too, nothing.

Now Jay is really worried.

Worried, he calls Ruzek, who is a good friend of yours and through whom you and Jay met in the first place, hoping that he is still in the bullpen for paperwork.

Jay was lucky.

"Hey man, what is it?" asked Adam exuberantly.

"Can you ping Y/N's phone? She's not there, I can't reach her, and I don't have a good feeling about this."

"Just a minute," Adam replies, recognising the concern and urgency in Jay's voice.

Shortly afterwards, Adam gives an address of where your cell phone was the last time before it was turned off.

With a quick thank you and a promise to let him know when he has found you, the two colleagues and friends on the phone say goodbye and Jay gets back into his truck to drive to the address.

It wasn't far and as he got out his heart stopped for a moment.

A wallet with your drivers licence is lying on the small footpath of the side street and a few metres away is your phone, the screen shattered. There are black tyre marks on the road from a sharp braking.

Jay pulls out his phone again and calls Adam for a second time.

"Found her?" he asks hopefully, but Jay doesn't even let him speak. "Y/N's been kidnapped."

Jay knows his colleague has just sat up straighter.

"Jay, are you sure?"

"Yes." Jay describes what he sees in front of him and then asks Adam to call the team together.

Less than fifteen minutes later they were all standing on the scene.

"Okay, you know what to do, check PODs, residents' CCTV and ask residents if they saw anything. Jay's girlfriend, one of ours, has been kidnapped. And we're going to get that asshole!" the sergeant ordered his team before putting a comforting hand on Jay's shoulder and saying, "We're going to find Y/N and she's going to get through this. She's tough. You'll see your girlfriend again."

"Fiancée, to be exact," Jay replies, but Voight hadn't heard him anymore.

Back in the bullpen, with all the evidence and statements from the residents, they create a board with all the facts so far. Photos of the skid marks, the wallet and the mobile phone. In the middle hangs a photo of the victim. He has seen this board so many times before, with disturbing and nightmare-inducing images. But now it is different.

Worse. Creepier. Because this time there's a photo of you hanging there.

Jay is standing in front of it, looking at it.

The photo doesn't do you justice, he thinks. The sparkle in your eyes is not there and the smile on your lips is nowhere near as beautiful as he knows it. Everything seems so dull and lifeless ...

An elderly lady watched the abduction from her kitchen window, but thought nothing more of it. However, she was already somewhat demented. Therefore, her statement is less reliable, but her description, apart from a few exceptions, matches those of the other residents of the street.

According to her, a man spoke to you, then a black van appeared, then flew away and you were gone.

Jay ran an agitated hand through his hair. He had to concentrate now. Intelligence had already solved a case with less clues, so they could solve this one too.

At the stroke of midnight, his phone buzzes, showing that he has received a video message.

He plays it while the others look over his shoulder.

There you sit tied to a chair with your cheek visibly reddened and a small gash on your cheekbone.

"Jay. The three wankers in front of me ..." you get kicked in the shin as you insult your captors as wankers and you curse a soft "ouch" before continuing. "Anyway, they want you to turn yourself in, Jay. A trade. I get released and they take you in exchange. In 30 hours, you'll ... what? I can't read the scribbling ...” your look shifts to one of your captors. “If you're going to make me read rubbish like that, at least write it neatly enough so I can read it dramatically ..." you grumble, and Adam has to suppress a snort. It would be funny if it wasn't so serious.

One of the kidnappers gave the address you couldn't read before. "Right there... That's where you'll be standing in thirty hours, unarmed. They will release me and take you with them. Should you not do it, they will kill me."

Your eyes shift from what you are supposed to be reading out and you look at one of your captors. "Oh, go bury yourselves, or throw yourselves in front of a train, I don't mind ..." You wrinkle your nose slightly at the last sentence.

Then one of the kidnappers speaks again, "Detective, follow our instructions or your little friend will die. Know that this is revenge for the death of my brother."

While the kidnapper is still speaking, you shout, "Jay, don't do it! Don't make the trade!"

You catch a slap, your head flies from the punch to the side, and then the video ends.

It's only when he exhales now that Jay realises he's been holding his breath. As did the rest of the team.

Adam made the comment that you're pretty brave to be so defiant to the kidnappers. Or you're tired of living. It's going to be one of those two.

Over the next few hours, Intelligence investigates whose brother it might be, who was capable of such a thing, and where those, as you called them, wankers, might be holding you.

But when nothing new comes of it, Voight sends everyone home for the time being to get some sleep and to be able to continue working in new freshness. After all, they still have 27 hours.

But Jay doesn't want to go home. He could never sleep there now.

In your bed, knowing that you're sitting somewhere kidnapped, tied to a chair....

Which is why Adam finally offers to take him with him, so that he can at least get a little sleep on the couch there.

20 hours until the exchange:

By now they've figured out who wants to see your fiancé suffer.

A few weeks ago Jay had shot someone, Paul Lancaster to be precise, on a case after he in turn had opened fire on him.

Jay had escaped with a bruise at the time due to the vest, but Paul had died on the way to hospital. He had hit well.

Now Paul's brother, Jeremy Lancaster, seemed to want revenge on him and this man had quite an interesting sheet. Jeremy had been charged several times for smaller felonies and had served two years in Stateville for aggravated assault. But even though Intelligence now knows who's holding you, they still have no clue where Jeremy and his two accomplices might be holding you.

Frustrated, Jay now throws a stack of papers against the wall and rubs his face in dissolution.

He's on the verge of giving up, of just turning himself in. He'd rather die than let them hurt you more than they already do.

They went through everything again, repeated all the residents' statements, looked at all the traffic camera recordings, but they got nowhere. The van had disappeared at some point at a corner without video surveillance.

"Play the video again," Jay finally asks Kim, who is currently at her computer trying to draw any clues from it as to where you might be.

"Jay ..." she started, but he interrupted her and took it upon himself to play the video from the beginning.

At the end, when you wrinkle your nose, he pauses the video.

"There! Y/N always wrinkles her nose when she bluffs while playing. I always tease her about it ... because she looks so cute at that moment and it annoys her when I say that, ... that was a hint ... She was giving us a hint."

Kim rewinds a few seconds and plays it again.

Burying themselves ... jumping in front of a train ...

They play the video again and again.

"Train ... bury ... buried train ... underground!", Jay finally combines and writes it immediately on the case board.

Seventeen hours until the exchange:

If they didn't find you soon, Jay knew, he'd turn himself in. No matter what you had said, no matter what Voight will say. He can't let you get hurt.

There are seventeen hours left to find you, and Jay can barely think straight when they find out Jeremy is in an on-off relationship with an Angelina Perry. Maybe she can help.

God, Jay hoped so much.

Adam and Kim bring the girlfriend to the station and Jay watches the questioning through the mirror, his partner, Hailey standing beside him, watching him with concern. She knows how much Jay loves you. Every time Ruzek brings up one of the stories from your childhood and your name comes up, his eyes light up and a smile spreads across his face. But now there was nothing but worry and fear.

"What am I doing here? I don't know any Y/N," Angelina clarifies.

"But you know Jeremy Lancaster. Don't you?" asks Kim, unimpressed.

"Y-yes? Why? Did something happen to him?"

"No ...", Adam picks up, but Jay is no longer listening, because he has just received another video message.

Alarmed, he looks at Hailey, who nods once and finally gets Adam and Kim out of the interrogation room. Meanwhile, Jay gets Voight out of his office and has Kevin run the video from his phone onto the computer.

With held breath, the team watches the video.

You are still sitting in the chair with your head hanging, probably unconscious. Your hair hides the view at your face, but kindly Jeremy grabs your hair ungently and pulls it back so that he lifts your head and the team can see you properly. Your face is swollen and you have a laceration on your forehead, a bruise is starting to form on your left eye.

"Fuck!" curses Jay, even before Jeremy has begun to speak.

"Hello Detective. A real fighter you got yourself into, I'm looking forward to making you feel what I did to her before I shoot you in front of her like you shot my brother. Or would you prefer I shoot her in front of you?"

Jay's blood boils in his veins. He is so angry at this monster of a man called Jeremy Lancaster for laying a hand on you, an absolute innocent.

With his phone in hand, he storms into the interrogation room where Jeremy's girlfriend or ex-girlfriend or whatever is sitting.

With a slam, the door shuts behind Jay. Angelina flinches in fright and looks at the frustrated and distraught detective in front of her.

The rest of the team have followed him and are now watching through the one-sided mirror.

"You better tell me now where your boyfriend likes to hide. Because if he kills her, I'll hold you responsible too!" he threatens, knowing very well that he couldn't do that. But he just wants to have you back, to hold you in his arms again and hear from you that everything will be all right again.

With these words, he slams the mobile phone down on the table and lets the video play.

Angelina looks shocked and tears glisten in her eyes as she watches the video.

"That ... that's Jeremy? Wh-why?"

"His brother Paul messed up and got himself killed. Jeremy blames me and has been holding my fiancée for over 13 hours now. God knows what he's doing to her. And every minute that goes by, he could hurt her. So if you don't want to be responsible for murder, you'd better think really hard about where your boyfriend could be hiding with her!" he rages and Angelina flinches again, however Jay can see that she is starting to think.

The team, watching the whole thing through the mirrored glass, are quite flummoxed. Did Jay just say you were his fiancée?

They all caught your complicated love story, how Jay initially thought you and Adam were a couple and ended up with Erin. How you buried your crush on Jay deep inside when you found out. How you then held him when Erin left, dumped him, and how you both had to get your asses kicked by Kevin and Kim first before you confessed your love to each other.

They know how much Jay loves you and how much you love him. And they have taken you to their hearts as well. As Voight had said, you are one of them, even if you don't work for them. You are their friend. It takes all the more out of them now to know that Jay is not only about to lose his fiancée, but that they could lose their friend.

"Did he ever say anything about an underground or anything?" His voice was no longer loud and threatening now, but quiet and desperate.

One could see it in Angelina's face as she thought of something before she said, "The old underground warehouse...he...he told me once that when he was a kid he used to play in the factory hall with his brother. Maybe that's where they are ... he is ... was ... really close with his brother." With that said, she looks hopefully at the detective in front of her. He nods and finally leaves the interrogation room.

The team leaves the room at the same time as Jay, from where they have been watching everything.

They would all like to say something to him, but they all know that nothing they could say would make anything better.

Sixteen hours until the exchange:

The team storms the building from all three entrances.

Jay and Hailey, Kevin and Kim, and Adam and Voight.

Flash grenades are thrown, "Chicago PD! Drop your weapon! ... Hands in the air! ... on your knees!" are shouted from all sides and Jeremy and his two accomplices had to admit defeat.

Jay's gaze wanders searchingly down the hall and ....

There you lie. On the floor, hands and feet still tied to the fucking chair, not moving. From his position he cannot see if you are still breathing. Your hair covers your face, but you seem unconscious. At least Jay hopes you are only unconscious and nothing more.

God, he hopes so badly that you're still alive.

While the rest of the team arrest Jeremy and his accomplices, Jay gets down on his knees next to you, unties you and frees you from the goddamn chair. You don't move and anxiously he feels your pulse.

It is there, but very weak. But he can't feel relief yet, because as he brushes your hair out of your face, his examining gaze sees not only your wrists, chafed and blue from the ropes, but also your face. A nasty wound is emblazoned on your forehead. One half of your face is covered in blood, the other is red, swollen and a black eye is already forming. What had they done to you?

"Fuck ...", he curses softly and searches frantically for something to press carefully onto the wound.

By now Adam is standing next to him. In his face the same concern as in Jay's when he sees your bruised body and your hair, which is sticky with your blood but still shines moistly. "5021-Ida, shots fired by the offender and the police, offender in custody, one female victim down, multiple trauma to the head and body, roll an ambo to my current location asap," he quickly relays through his radio to the dispatcher.

You hadn't lost much blood yet, but head injuries were always treacherous.

Jay keeps mumbling that you should hang on. That an ambulance is on its way and that you should just hold on a little longer.

Seconds that feel like hours pass.

You hear Jay's voice as if from far away, begging you not to leave him, to open your eyes, to stay with him. You want to follow his plea so much that it seems to tear you apart, but your body no longer obeys you. Several times you try to speak, to say that you hear him, that you are there after all and that you are not planning to go anywhere else. But nothing. Not a single sound comes from your lips. You can't even move your fingers to show that you are still alive, that you can hear him....

Instead, you fight the complete blackness that threatens to overwhelm you. You cling to the love you feel for Jay where you know he returns it. You cling to his voice that seems to fade.

They always say that when you die, a warm white light appears to you, awaiting and welcoming you.

But it is the other way around. The light that holds you begins to shrink and is taken over further and further by the darkness, the blackness, the nothingness. Jay's voice is further and further away. You can barely hear him, barely understand what he is saying. And yet you know that he still commands you to hang on and tells you how much he loves you and can't lose you, that he needs you.

Then suddenly you hear female voices reciting foreign words. "V-fib" is the last thing you hear before there's nothing left. Just the empty, lonely, cold, blackness and you. You wonder if this is what death feels like.

At least you could die knowing what true love feels like. What it feels like to love someone more than yourself and to be loved just as much.

You had the chance to meet Jay and those few years with him were the best of your life.

Jay ...

Your last thought belongs to him, to him alone, and that yesterday morning you didn't say the last "I love you" back.

And then there was nothing. No light, no thought, no blackness. Just nothing.

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#jay halstead #chicago pd #jay halstead x reader #x reader #love #30 hours #short story #writing #fiction #imagine #writers on tumblr

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laughhardrunfastbekindsblog · 7 months ago

Text

These Scars Remain

Summer of Bad Batch 2024 | Week 6 | Prompt: Battle Scars

Summary: "Did I ever tell you what Tech did when I got my first big scar?" POV: Wrecker (Word Count: 3131)

Read on Ao3

Notes: I touched on a few of the concepts here in one of my other works that I wrote up while imagining how the months between episodes 2.16 and 3.02 had gone for Hunter, Wrecker and Echo. And recently I've been thinking a lot about how Wrecker might have gotten the huge scar on his face. And then I saw this week's prompt. This is the result.

“Wrecker.”

Pain. So much pain.

“Wrecker!”

Blinding… burning… pain… ringing… agony… so dark…

“Wrecker! Wake up!”

Stabbing… crushing… why wouldn’t the pain stop… just make it stop…

“WRECKER!”

That voice… he knew that voice… who… Tech, why was Tech yelling at him? Why was the ground shaking…?

Wrecker came to with a groan. He wanted to move, find his way to more solid ground so he would stop shaking – maybe he wouldn’t hurt as much if he wasn’t shaking – but the only part of his body he could manage to move for himself was his eyelids.

The first thing he saw when he opened his eyes was Tech’s goggles, which were currently taking up most of his field of vision – a field of vision that was narrower than usual… Wrecker blinked, what was wrong with his left eye?

Then he realized the ground had stopped moving… No, Tech had stopped shaking him. Why had Tech been shaking him…? Had he been asleep? Were they late for a battle simulation or…?

Suddenly Wrecker remembered: the squad was in their third and final week of completing individual field tests, tests that would determine whether each member of the squad was prepared to progress to the final months of advanced training. Hunter and Crosshair were currently in a different room, Wrecker didn’t yet know what tests had been assigned to those two today. Wrecker and Tech had been shuffled into another area, with Tech being assigned target drills with the blasters in one corner of the long training room, and Wrecker being given the task of disarming a bomb at the other end of the room.

He had thought it would be a smoke bomb or something similar, he had been told as much – at least, he thought that’s what he had been told by the trainers before they left to watch the proceedings from the observation room. Wrecker still wasn’t sure what had gone wrong, but he was starting to think that definitely had not been a smoke bomb…

But it didn’t really matter what kind of bomb it had been; he should have been able to disarm it. All the regular cadets had to prove themselves to a certain standard; Wrecker knew full well that his squad of 99s had to prove themselves to be not just on par with the regs, but superior.

Now, Wrecker couldn’t help but recall that how quickly a cadet recovered from injury during training often played a role in determining whether said cadet was decommissioned or not. And… well, Wrecker knew he had definitely been injured.

That, on top of having clearly failed the test…

He didn’t know if retakes were allowed with these exams – he had never asked. None of his squad had needed to.

“Wrecker! Can you hear me?” Tech may have stopped shaking him, but his anxious voice persisted in calling Wrecker’s name, and Wrecker realized he had spent the last few seconds of reverie staring in a silent daze.

“Y… Yeah, Tech, I can hear you,” Wrecker replied. His words sounded muffled, garbled to his ears. It hurt so much to talk, but he tried to keep talking anyway, more to reassure Tech than anything else. “Guess I…”

Tech suddenly disappeared from Wrecker’s line of sight, replaced by a medical droid. “The stimulant worked, CT-9903 has regained consciousness,” Wrecker heard the droid report, before he felt himself being lifted onto a gurney.

Oh. He was going to be taken to the medical wing. That was fine… just, he didn’t really like going to the medical wing, he didn’t like all the tests that involved being poked and prodded and scanned, and he definitely didn’t like being there alone…

“CT-9902, where are you going?” the gruff voice of Gibli Ecto, their trainer, sounded somewhere behind Wrecker.

“I’m going with my brother to the medical wing. I want to stay with him,” Wrecker heard Tech reply.

“He’ll be just fine on his own. You need to finish your exam. You weren’t supposed to leave your testing station in the first place,” Ecto returned in a tone of finality.

“I already passed the test,” Tech replied.

“Excuse me?”

Tech’s voice was fading as Wrecker was carried further away, and Wrecker strained to hear his brother’s frank explanation: “Of the 150 targets on the exam, I have already accurately hit the first 136 of them, yielding an average 90.6% hit rate. Even if I miss the last fourteen targets, I’ve already exceeded the target rate required for passing at this point in my training. I don’t need to complete the remainder of the test. I want to accompany CT-9903 to the medical wing.”

“CT-9902, your insubordination is grounds for disciplinary action…”

“Let him go, Ecto,” one of the other trainers sighed – Wrecker couldn’t tell who was speaking now, maybe Timbria? “He’s right, he already passed. And these are special circumstances. CT-9902, you’re dismissed.”

“Yes, sir;” and Wrecker heard hurried footsteps catch up to him before his gurney was carried through the test room doors.

“I’m here, Wrecker,” Tech said matter-of-factly, placing a hand briefly on Wrecker’s right shoulder to reinforce the fact of his presence. “I’ll stay with you during the medical tests.”

“Thanks, Tech,” Wrecker said weakly. It still hurt to talk, still hurt to breathe, still hurt to think – and Wrecker found himself succumbing to unconsciousness again.

---

“Oh good, you’re awake,” was the first sound to greet Wrecker’s right ear.

“What… what happened?” Wrecker said bemusedly, staring around at the sterile and well-lit room, registering the fact that the left side of his face and head was heavily wrapped in bandages; and the events of the day rapidly caught up to him even before Tech spoke again.

“You were unsuccessful in disarming the bomb,” Tech started.

“Yeah, and it blew up in my face. Got it,” Wrecker said, trying to ignore the sick feeling that was developing anew in the pit of his stomach. He was grateful it had been an individual rather than a group exam, that none of his brothers had been nearby when the bomb had gone off, but… What would happen to him for failing his first explosives test? He had heard rumors of other cadets being decommissioned for far less. “I mean, what happened after I passed out again?”

“You’ve only been unconscious for half an hour, but that was ample time for the medical droids to see to your wounds,” Tech said conversationally, before his tone turned more somber and he seemed reluctant to continue. “Based on what they were saying amongst themselves, I don’t think you’ll regain function of your left eye or ear.”

“You mean… I won’t be able to see or hear on that side again?”

“That is correct.”

Wrecker tried to shrug – oh, it hurt to shrug. And it hurt to grimace from the pain of shrugging. Even thinking still hurt. But none of that mattered. So long as they let him retake the test, he’d learn to live with the pain, just like he’d learn to live partially blind and deaf. He was going to be a soldier and stay with his squad, no matter what. “Guess it’s a good thing I have backups. One ear and eye’s enough. I can still crush droids.”

Ever since the first wave of graduates had been shipped out a few months ago to officially serve in the Galactic Army of the Republic and fight in the new war, cadets had been informed that they would primarily be facing battle droids, and battle simulations had shifted to reflect this. Barreling through droids had become one of Wrecker’s favorite things to do, and just thinking about it now would have been enough to make him smile – if it didn’t hurt so much to move his face.

Tech smiled at Wrecker’s brash determination. “That is also correct. It does not seem that your injuries will have any permanent effect on your brute strength and physical domination of the battlefield.”

He sounded almost relieved as he said it, and Wrecker suddenly realized Tech was as worried about Wrecker being decommissioned as he himself was.

Maybe that was why Tech had not only left his own test without permission to make sure Wrecker was alive after the explosion, but also had been so insistent on staying by Wrecker’s side afterwards. If anyone would be able to mount a successful argument against decommissioning any member of this squad of 99s – even if the argument went up against Prime Minister Lama Su himself – it would be Tech.

The squad had been together long enough and understood each other well enough that Wrecker knew he could count on any one of his brothers for anything. Still, the fact that Tech had risked his own standing as a cadet just to be able to stay close and ensure Wrecker’s safety made Wrecker’s heart warm with gratitude, and he felt in his bones that whatever happened, Tech would always be there for him.

Wrecker loved his brothers so much. Nobody could have asked for better squadmates.

“You’re the first of us to be assigned that task. I wasn’t aware the disarming test involved thermal explosives,” Tech said now.

“I didn’t know either,” Wrecker replied in a low voice.

Tech sighed. “At any rate, you’re going to have a very – ah, impressive scar.”

Wrecker frowned as he cautiously patted the layers of bandages on his head. “How do you know?”

“I saw the damage. The droids did their best and it’s already healing quickly, but… there was a lot of tissue missing. Your hair probably won’t grow back in that area either. All along here – ” and Tech indicated the area by stretching his hand over his own left ear and side of his head.

The full implications suddenly hit Wrecker; and despite the continued pain, he grinned.

“What is it?” Tech asked curiously.

“It’ll be my first battle scar.”

“I’m not sure you can call it a ‘battle’ scar when you didn’t sustain it in a real battle,” Tech replied drily.

“I know I didn’t get it in a real battle, but most of the other regs won’t know that,” Wrecker countered. “The important thing is, the regs’ll see this scar and they’ll know I survived something big. And since the scar is right on my face, no one will miss it!”

“Unless you have your helmet on,” Tech pointed out.

Wrecker stammered for a moment as he tried to come up with an appropriately witty response, but before he could verbalize his retort, the door slid open to admit two very anxious-looking cadets.

“Wrecker!” Hunter exclaimed, hurrying over to the bed.

“An actual explosion. Is there anything you can’t survive?” Crosshair quipped as he came up behind Hunter, though the worry was still apparent in his eyes.

Wrecker tried to guffaw, though it came out more as a wheeze. “It’ll take a lot more than that to put me out of the fight!”

Hunter shook his head. “This shouldn’t have happened. You weren’t supposed to be tested with a thermal explosive in the first place. From what I can tell, the trainers are all trying to figure out what went wrong.”

Well, at least he hadn’t misheard critical information… but he had still failed the test, and he was still badly injured, and he couldn’t help but think that he might be deemed unfit to be a soldier.

“That should be grounds to allow him to retest, then,” Tech was saying thoughtfully.

“Oh, yeah,” Hunter said, “that’s not gonna be an issue.”

Hunter said it so confidently, Wrecker couldn’t help but feel a wave of relief. “Really? So I’m not getting…”

He couldn’t finish the sentence, but all of them knew exactly what he meant.

“Nope, you’re not,” Hunter said. “I overheard Nala Se saying we’re ahead of the curve already, whatever that means, and that the Jedi will probably want to see our skills for themselves when they get here.”

Tech’s face perked up with interest. “Jedi?”

“Yeah. Some of the cadets were saying some Jedi will be coming to oversee training operations from now on. I guess it’s true.”

Tech now had his “explanation incoming” expression on. “That will be most interesting to experience. The Jedi are formidable warriors, and by all accounts their ways seem to be quite distinct from the Mandalorian and even Kaminoan styles of fighting and training. They have been…”

“Yeah, yeah, Tech, we didn’t ask,” Crosshair cut him off with a playful shoulder bump to offset the harshness of his voice.

Wrecker shifted himself slightly to a more comfortable position, noticing that the excruciating pain had become more bearable now that he wasn’t worried about his fate and the fate of his squad, now that he could look forward with new resolutions.

He wasn’t going to be decommissioned over this. He was going to become an explosives expert – no bomb would ever best him again, and he wouldn’t let any bomb pose a threat to any of his brothers. He was going to be one of the best soldiers out there, just like his brothers were going to be, even if he only had one working eye and ear. He was going to wear his battle scar with pride, because it showed that he might get knocked down, but he would never be beaten. And as long as he, Wrecker, wasn’t beaten, his brothers wouldn’t be, either.

He would make sure of it.

********

“You must sever the connection hinge. Now!”

Pain. So much pain.

“There is no time, Wrecker. Plan 99.”

Blinding… burning… pain… ringing… agony… so dark…

“When have we ever followed orders?”

Stabbing… crushing… why wouldn’t the pain stop… just make it stop… JUST MAKE IT STOP…

“Wrecker?”

Echo’s voice drew Wrecker’s thoughts away from Tech’s final words ringing again in his ear, though it wasn’t enough to draw his gaze away from Tech’s broken goggles.

He didn’t want to think of Tech as broken. He had tried so hard since Eriadu to focus on happy memories with Tech, their time together as cadets, as soldiers, as deserters, their lives together as brothers. But sometimes – most times – focusing on Tech’s life was impossible, when the brutal reality set in.

Tech was dead. Wrecker hadn’t been able to save him. Omega was gone. Wrecker hadn’t been able to save her – it had been days and they hadn’t even been able to find her. But there was hope Omega would be found and rescued. There was no hope for the same for Tech.

“Does it ever get better, Echo?”

For a brief moment, Wrecker wasn’t sure if Echo had heard the question – his voice had been so low and gruff he wasn’t sure if he had even heard himself – but then Echo sighed and leaned against the console, crossing his arms as he faced Wrecker.

“Yes,” Echo said slowly. “It does get better. But it never goes away completely. You’ll go for longer stretches of time – days, weeks even – feeling okay, the ache is so dim you almost don’t notice it. And then suddenly you’ll feel the pain all over again, like it never left in the first place. But that won’t last long, the pain will fade again, because you’ll have learned to live with it. Just like all the other injuries and losses you’ve learned to live with.”

Wrecker sat in silence, grappling with this explanation. He knew Echo had lost brothers before – lost his entire original squad, actually – and he figured Echo must know what he was talking about… but Wrecker didn’t understand it. At all. Losing a brother wasn’t like losing one’s sight or hearing, wasn’t the same as recovering from a blaster wound or a knife to the gut or burns from an explosion.

Especially since the brother that had been lost had been with Wrecker since the beginning, had helped him through every single injury, every single hurt, those that had healed without leaving a trace and those that had left scars – all of them, except this one.

Some battle scars couldn’t be seen. The losses that caused them ate away slowly on the inside without leaving any physical marks, just aching emptiness that somehow hurt even worse than every other injury Wrecker had ever experienced.

All of Wrecker’s physical injuries had healed over time. He didn’t think it was possible that time would somehow make this wound heal too.

As if he knew exactly what Wrecker was thinking, Echo now added, “It hurts a lot, at first; but remembering my brothers, what they meant to me, all I learned from them helped me keep moving forward. That’s how I learned to live with it. I live for them.”

“I… I keep trying to think of Tech, of how much he talked and studied and came up with some of the craziest plans,” Wrecker confessed. “I wanna talk out loud about it, but…”

He didn’t need to finish the sentence. If he wanted to ramble on about Tech, Hunter would patiently listen to him – Wrecker knew this; but, much as his older brother tried to hide it, the look in Hunter’s eyes when Wrecker had first done this had been more than enough to convince Wrecker to stop. Hunter just wasn’t ready to talk or listen about Tech, and Wrecker had to respect that.

But thoughts and memories like these flowed easier for Wrecker when he was able to talk through them. Holding it all in was so hard.

Echo glanced back at Hunter, who was currently sleeping fitfully on his rack. The lengths to which Wrecker and Echo had had to go in order to convince Hunter to rest at all…

“You can talk to me, you know,” Echo offered. “There’s a lot about your time as cadets on Kamino that I don’t know about.”

Wrecker sat in silence for some time, staring again at Tech’s goggles. Tech had had such poor eyesight that couldn’t be corrected without lenses, no matter what Nala Se and the other medical personnel had tried, that of all the 99s in the squad, he had nearly always been at highest risk for decommissioning; and after Wrecker’s failed disarming test, it had been comforting to know that one brother really understood what it was like to have limited vision, even if Tech had pestered him for months with all the options he had researched of possible ways to restore Wrecker’s vision in his left eye, while Wrecker had responded by teasing Tech that at least spectacles were not one of the options.

The memory was enough to almost bring a smile to Wrecker’s face – almost – and he glanced up at Echo.

“Did I ever tell you what Tech did when I got my first big scar?”

@summer-of-bad-batch

#the bad batch #star wars the bad batch #summerofbadbatch2024 #tbb wrecker #tbb tech #tbb echo #tbb hunter #tbb crosshair #clone cadets #kamino days #headcanon #tech still lives btw #his family just doesn't know that at this point #if you'll excuse me i'll just be over here making myself feel better with ALL the Tech Lives stories and art #tbb fanfiction #tbb headcanons

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btsficsandsuch · 1 year ago

Text

Ps, Is It Okay If I Start Calling You Dad?

You have a daughter from a previous relationship. Yoongi has always treated her like his own. But when BTS becomes more popular he starts having to make sacrifices. Unfortunately, those come at the expense of your daughter.

You: Anna has a surprise for you for your birthday. Remember to be here by 5pm. Okay?

Yoongi: I’ll be there. I’m going to try and leave here by 4:30 at the latest so I’ll be on time.

You: You’re not going to get sucked into working all day and forget right? You promised her and I don’t want her heart to get broken.

Yoongi: Y/N I promise I’ll be there. I’m excited for this surprise. I know she’s been working hard all week.

You were currently sat in the dining room of Yoongi’s apartment reading the conversation from this morning over and over again. Yoongi promised he would be home by 5pm. Your daughter Anna had been planning a surprise dinner for Yoongi all week. She asked you take her to the store to pick out a new flannel for him and she decided on the menu you would cook which was filled with Yoongi’s favorites, she even made him a hand drawn card and on the inside she wrote him a small note but she had said she wanted it to be for Yoongi only so she wouldn’t let you read it.

Her biological father was never in the picture and after many guys rejected you after finding out you had a daughter you were so happy to find Yoongi. You had made it clear from the start that your daughter was part of the picture and would have to be part of his life if he wanted a relationship with you.

You were worried how he would handle idol life and being a father figure. At first things were great and he was able to easily balance everything. He always treated Anna like she was his own daughter. But as time went on and BTS became more popular he was having a harder time. He was beginning to miss dance recitals and basketball games. He missed more and more bedtime stories and wasn’t there the last time she fell and scraped her knee. You understood why this was happening but Anna at just 8 years old didn’t really grasp why Yoongi was all of a sudden spending less and less time with her.

You checked your phone and it was now 7pm. Well past the point of just being late. He had forgotten. You sent him another text but you knew it would go unanswered like the last four,

You: Yoongi where are you? Anna is getting upset.

Your daughter came and sat on the chair next to you, “He’s not coming is he?” You could see her lip start to shake. She was trying to be strong and not cry. “Why doesn’t he love me any more? Did I do something to make him mad?”, she asked letting a tear fall. You couldn’t bare to see her like this any longer and you’d had enough of Yoongi ignoring you. The least he could’ve done was call.

You grabbed your keys and started walking to the car, Anna’s card in hand. When you got to his studio you sat Anna on a couch just down the hall and told her to wait there for you. You were worried that your conversation with Yoongi would get ugly and you didn’t want her to hear that.

You let yourself into Yoongi’s studio using the passcode only you had. It was Anna’s birthday month and day and it made you scoff thinking of how he used to once be the greatest father but now you felt like the two of you were nothing to him. Yoongi didn’t even notice that you had entered the room. He was too busy with his work. You cleared your throat trying to get his attention. He started mumbling, “Not now. I’m busy.” You couldn’t roll your eyes any harder. “Yoongi it’s me. You know, the person you had promised you’d be home to by 5pm.”, you said with annoyance evident in your voice.

Yoongi spun the chair around,” Y/N why are you here? I’m really busy right now.” All you could do was laugh to try and stop the tears from falling. You spoke with a shaky voice, “You promised you’d be home to celebrate your birthday. Anna worked really hard and she’s devastated. She thinks you don’t love her any more and that she did something to make you mad.” Yoongi spins his chair around to go back to work, “That’s ridiculous Y/N. She knows I love her. I’m just busy. Tell her I’ll make it up to her.” You’re so angry you want to rip the headphones right off of his head. Your voice comes out a little louder than you had planned, “Why don’t you tell her Yoongi? I don’t think she knows any more. You’re never there lately. You don’t come home. You don’t go to any of her events.” You could feel the tears of frustration starting to fall, “Yoongi I’m tired of covering for you. I’m tired of lying and trying to make you sound like the good guy so that she doesn’t start to loose faith in you. You’re the only dad she’s ever known and she wanted to do something special for your birthday but you couldn’t eve-“.

Yoongi spins around suddenly cutting you off mid sentence. He walks over to you until he is inches away, “Y/N you don’t think I know that I’ve had to ignore her and miss things. You don’t think that hurts me every time. I have a job to do. A job that I worked hard for. A job I wanted long before either of you came into my life. I’m sorry that she’s hurt but I don’t have an obligation to be anything to her. She’s not my daughter.”

You feel sick. You thought he was different that all those other guys. You had been together for almost six years at this point. This wasn’t just a fling. Yoongi instantly knows he messed up, “Y/N I didn’t mean-“. It was your turn to cut him off, “No you meant it or you wouldn’t have said it.” You turn to leave but then you remember the card in your had. You turn around and shove the piece of paper onto his chest, “Here, your not daughter made you a birthday card.”

With that you turned around and pulled open the door storming out. Yoongi stood there watching. The last thing he saw was Anna standing in the hallway tears streaming down her little face. You took Anna home and tried your best to cheer her up. You ordered pizza and watched all of her favorite movies to try and get her mind off of what happened. You got her showered and into her pjs and you were tucking her into bed when she looked up at you, “Mom are we going to see Yoongi any more?” You didn’t really know what to say. At the moment you never wanted to see him again after what he said but not wanting to upset her any more you just smiled, “We’ll see baby.” Thankfully she accepted your simple answer and nodded off to sleep.

It was early in the morning and Yoongi was just getting home. He opened the door to the apartment and was greeted by balloons and streamers. The dinner you cooked was still sitting on the stove. A birthday cake in the fridge. Yoongi walked over to the table and sat down still holding the card you had thrown at him earlier. He hadn’t had the courage to open it until now. He looked down at the piece of paper. On the front a picture of a cat underneath the lettering ‘Happy Birthday Yoongi’. He opened it and began to read,

“Yoongi, thank you for being there for me and my mom. You make us so happy. I know you’ve been really busy but it’s okay. I know you still love me and I love you too. I think about you all the time and I hope you’re happy every day, not just on your birthday. Love Anna. PS, Is it okay if I start calling you dad? I’d really like to.”

Yoongi was sitting at his table crying. How could he have said those terrible things just because he was tired and stressed and upset because he always had to miss out on things. He knew he had to fix this but he also knew it was currently 2am and you were hopefully sleeping so it would have to wait until the morning.

It was 8am and you heard knocking on your door. Who could it be this early you thought as you swung open the door. You never would’ve guessed it would’ve been Yoongi. He handed you a bouquet of flowers, “I’m sorry Y/N. I didn’t mean any of it. It’s not an excuse and I’m sorry. I promise I’ll never do anything like this ever again.” You crossed your arms after setting the flowers on the counter, “Im not the one you have to apologize to because I’m not the one who spent half the night crying.”

Yoongi’s heart broke at your words. He hated that he was the cause of her tears. He cleared his throat, “Can I talk to her?” “If she will let you but I don’t know if she wants anything to do with you right now.” Yoongi walked back to Anna’s room preparing for rejection. He lightly knocked on her door, “Anna it’s Yoongi. Can I come in?” Silence. “Anna do you want to talk?” Yoongi heard a soft voice, “Go away. I don’t want to see you.” Yoongi didn’t want to push it. He took out a piece of paper he had and slid it under her door. He walked out to where you were sitting, “She didn’t want to talk to me.” You scoffed, “Can you blame her? You’re her world Yoongi. Sometimes I think she cares more for you than me. And you broke her heart. You said she wasn’t your daughter even though you’ve been her dad for the last six years.”

Yoongi sighed, “I know Y/N. I’m the worst. I’m really trying. Now that things are so busy I don’t know how to manage it. But I promise I didn’t mean it. I love you and her more than anything. I just don’t know how to fix it.”

You were about to speak when Anna came running out of her room with tears streaming down her face. She wrapped her arms around Yoongi and continued to cry into his shirt. You were about to get angry at him when you saw the paper she was holding. Yoongi picked her up and held her in a hug while you took the paper from her. The paper clearly had Yoongi’s handwriting on it. The note said,

“Anna, thank you so much for everything. This was the best birthday I’ve ever had. I love the flannel. How did you know exactly which one I wanted? The food was really good too. I ate all of it even though it was a little salty (don’t tell your mom). I loved the birthday card too. I’m going to hang it in my studio so every time I see it I’ll think of you. I’m sorry that I’ve been so busy lately but it’s not your fault. I love you and your mom so much. I promise I’m going to do better because you’re the best daughter anyone could ever have and you deserve the world. Love Yoongi. PS, I’d love it more than anything if you called me dad. If you still want to that is.”

You looked up at Yoongi who was still hugging your daughter. You walked over and joined in. The three of you were now standing in your living room crying. “I better get started on breakfast.”, you said after a couple minutes trying to get things moving. You were mixing up some eggs when you looked up to see your daughter running over and grabbing Yoongi by the hand, “Dad come see my new blanket. I got it a couple weeks ago. It has a picture of Jimin on it.” You couldn’t help but laugh as Yoongi faked disgust. He looked down at your daughter,”Jimin? Really? What about me?” Anna giggled, “You might be my dad but he’s my bias.” Yoongi rolled his eyes as he followed her into her bedroom listing all the reasons she should have a blanket with his face and not Jimins.

#bts #bts fanfic #bts x reader #bts fluff #bts yoongi #bts imagines #yoongi fluff #yoongi x reader #bts suga #yoongi fanfic #bts angst #yoongi angst #yoongi imagine

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