#sorry ive been watching all grown up

[malcolmreeds]

"can we pick up sid on our way back?"

"no honey we have sid at home"

sid at home:

[marknee]

bts fanfics i think shakespeare would enlist himself into the military just to show the boys.

chapter iv. ✷ chapter vi.

KEYS ON SEVERITY OF SHAKESPEARE’S STATE:

( ✮ ) — he’s not really thinking about enlisting, is he?

( ♬ ) — what do you mean shakespeare shaved his head?.. oh no.

( ✎ ) — don’t military bases have security? how the hell did that man get inside?

( ♛ ) — he’s proper pulling a cross country right now. the boys look confused. and horrified.

THE SHAKESPEARE SERIES.

WARNING: keep in mind, some of these authors are very strict on the rule that no minors should read their work if they’re underage, and i will honour that. but, at the end of the day, i am not your parent. so, there’s that. but heed my warning wisely. any smut or 18+ content is highlighted in bold.

NOTE: dear readers, did you miss me? it’s been a while since i’ve shared my secret recommendations with you. but, since the two year anniversary of this special series has recently passed, i thought it was about time i spoiled you again. i’ve had quite a while to think about this one. so, i hope you’re ready. let’s give shakespeare something to enlist for.

( ♛ ) AMALTHEA — by @daechwitatamic

!! seokjin x reader | 40k !!

best friend’s older brother!au, smut (18+), fluff, angst.

bfb! bfb! my best friend’s brother, my friend’s brother! bfb! bfb! my best friend’s brother, my best friend’s brother!

this is one of the BEST seokjin fics i’ve ever read. straight to the point but there is no other way to put it. got to the point i would wake up earlier just to read another chapter before work. i was always present, bitch.

alike most of you, as someone who reads A LOT (re: i have no credentials for this, just my mum), i can tell when someone pours their every blood, sweat and tears (ha.) into writing. and for me, this is one of those writers.

this writer really shocked me at how much i connected to this story whilst reading n how attached i felt after finishing. caught me off guard, but so did death to shakespeare… sooo, what can i say.

“it’s been over a decade since that night, and you still don't know if he meant his family, or you.” dude i wish you could’ve seen my face. lmfao.

let’s just say there’s a reason this one’s first. amazed. truly.

( ♛ ) MOON MAGIC — by @jincherie

!! hoseok x reader | 33.8k !!

mermaid!au, pirate!au, fluff (like.. teeth rotting).

“and he calls me mooonlight toooooo,” she sings into the empty crowd with tears in her eyes. she meaning me.

now i know i’m known for having a sweet tooth, but damn! youse are gonna eventually turn me into an elizabethan england commoner. y’know, the crap dental hygiene n all. (re: shakespeare’s teeth.)

but, you know me. i looooove a good ‘ol fantasy inspired fic, so i guess i’m willing to risk a little here. and this one was worth risking for.

slams hand onto the table. the world building! this writer was not playing around when it came to painting us a picture of the world they wanted to create. i wanna live in this fic i’m not joking. get me in touch with namjoon asap for some of that moon magic shit. ok, rolls credits.

perfect in every single way. this is my first run-in with this writer, but am i swimming (sorry.) my way over to their masterlist? yeeees.

“he laughs and tells you that, actually, it's probably the youngest three princes that are most beloved by all.”

yea girl. not on my watch. enjoy!

( ✎ ) ALL GROWN UP — by @btsgotjams27

!! jungkook x reader | 64k !!

friends to lovers, older woman/younger man, smut (18+).

the fact this fic was loosely inspired by one of my all-time comfort kdramas… i didn’t even have to question adding it to my list. it felt like i was watching it for the first time again… deeply sighs. ahhh the nostalgia…

i had this fic bookmarked on my ao3 for the looongest time, but it was only recently that i got round to actually reading it. and i’m so glad i did. bless her, she was waiting for her moment to shine. and it’s now.

youngest kids in the family please raise your hands! all in attendance! you are welcome and appreciated here. the feeling of desperation, trying to get people to see you as your current age rather than the little kid they’ll forever remember. i think that’s why i loved this fic so much: i could relate to it.

alike this story, most fics on here are on the older side of things. but honestly, if it’s good and genuine, it’ll last forever. no matter how much time has gone by. feelings stay - perhaps even grow?

the same for our adorable pair over here. could time play in their favour?

you let me know when you finish it.

( ✮ ) ALIVE AHA FXCK — by @softyoongiionly

!! vampire!yoongi x human!reader | 42k !!

vampire!au, smut (18+), soulmate!au (you know i had to), please read the trigger warnings.

devoured. no pun intended. though other vampire synonyms include but are not limited to: consumed, ate, guzzled, feasted etc… thank you google, after a few questionable internet searches.

i cannot tell you how glad i am that shakespeare never wrote about vampires. cuz he would’ve written my ass into that damn thing and killed me off from the things i’ve said about that guy. and the things i will continue to say…

i love this fic on a personal level. it reminds me of being fourteen again, curled up in my sheets as the sun reaches the tip of my windowsill and the morning chill settles in after a night of fighting sleep to finish a fanfic. it’s safe - i’m safe.

i genuinely had so much fun reading this story. the characterisation of both the reader and yoongi is so unhinged and playful and i’m obsessed. if i could recommend it to anyone, it would be my younger self cuz i know she’d love it :,). n she did!

y’know, sometimes you just gotta read a silly - infused with twilight puns - vampire-themed yoongi fic for the world to feel alright again.

and it did - for me. n now - for you.

( ♛ ) OLDER — by @lovieku

!! dilf!jk x inexperienced!reader | 18.2k !!

smut (18+), dilf!au, best friend’s father, age gap.

pure, undeniable and utter filth. in the best fuckin’ way possible. yea, if you could crawl into my mind, plunge into the inky depths of whatever lurks there.. this is what you’d find lying on the sand floor. unadulterated sin.

i am so disgustingly obsessed with this fic i can’t explain it, hence why it’s ended up on my shelf of recommendations. it scratches and pleases a deep, desperate itch in my brain. maybe it’s the age gap, who knows?

this writer has a talent for making us - or, me. - claw at something forbidden in an almost hungry advance. the sinner doing the sinning. and goddamn, i’m impressed. n i bet shakespeare is too. well, he fuckin’ better be.

the characters are imperfect and selfish and lustful, but oh my god i love them. add on dilf!jk with his slutty, unbuttoned shirts and you have me sold.

@lovieku you are such an amazing writer. you have such a way with how you express. do not underestimate that. i am beyond excited to see your future works :)

masterpiece. but what the fuck was that ending.

( ♛ ) HABITS OF A CLANDESTINE NATURE — by @alphabetboyluvr

!! college!jk x female!oc | 16k !!

rich!jk, waitress!oc, enemies to lovers, smut (18+).

he got, he got away! he got away! he got away! he’s got a way, he’s got a way! awayyyyheyeyyyyheyyy! yea, but didn’t manage to escape a 460-year-old poet, nor me.. so..

clementines, fruit trees, the sound of innocent laughter, wind chimes, a sheer blur of colour, soft hands. things that come to mind whenever i am reminded of this fic. a solid and beautiful depiction of hurt and love and everything in between.

this writer knew straight off the bat how to sell this pair to the audience. how to capture us and string us along for the journey of two hurting, longing and hurting all over again. shakespeare bought the hanging fruit that’s for damn sure… me too then, perhaps.

the vision for this story is perfect to me. i almost want to give the writer a kiss on the forehead.

i did write down one quote; used from the story. a way to sum it all up. “the perfect place to get lost. the perfect place to get found, too.”

if you’re looking for somewhere to get lost, i hope this satisfies that need. i also hope i come back to read this every once in a while. for old times sake. to get found again.

( ♬ ) GUILTY AS SIN — by @gldrushh

!! brother in law!jungkook x widow!reader | 32k !!

forbidden love!au, smut (18+), angst.

“it began to lose its meaning. healing. as if it were something—a destination you could stumble upon.” oh, don’t even talk to me. people died. shakepeare died. april 23rd 1616.

god, this story is just so raw in and of itself - perfectly depicting the human experience of love and loss. inevitable and sometimes unexpected. i was - n still remain - in awe.

i crossed by this fic unexpectedly and i’m so glad that whatever butterfly effect led me to finding this succeeded, but damn that action also had consequences… like real bad… haha….

i want to cry every time this fic crosses my mind. dramatic? lil bit. but when you read it, holy shit - this will make sense to you young’uns. in due time.

well, to be even more dramatic as such… my wounds from reading this are still fresh (i will sob don’t test me), so i hand the torch over to you to make of this story what you will.

please go into this fic with no expectations. go in willingly and just… fall into it. i will be on the other side when you resurface and i will definitely say something ironic.

like i told you so. xx.

( ♛ ) CALLING PRODUCER MIN YOONGI — by @bangtan-dreamland

!! yoongi x reader | 4.6k !!

strangers to lovers, just fluff all around.

now this is the bitch i aspire to be. dials random ass numbers of random ass strangers just to yap. oh yea, that’s my kinda girl. i just hope she knows she’s the coolest person ever to exist to me. i want to buy a star for her. a big, bright one.

i think i have said this before, but never ever underestimate the power of a drabble. a short fic of little can hold the weight of ten times that amount. especially this one (which i read that long ago but has ultimately ended up here - says it all tbh).

this fic is everything and more to me. i miss it when i’m not reading it, and i miss it when it’s right in front of me. it has me wanting to ring up random people in hopes of meeting my true love - which i won’t, but who knows what might happen?

also, to point out - the immense chemistry between these characters is off the charts. felt like i was intruding on my own phone call.

good dialogue? tick. amazing characterisation? tick. interesting plot? tick. has shakespeare wanting to never learn how to use a phone in case he puts this fic to shame? tick.

lol.

( ✎ ) THE LOVE PROGNOSIS — by @awrkive

!! surgeon!jk x surgeon!reader | 90.9k !!

roommates!au, medical!au, smut (18+), fluff.

aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaarggggrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrgggggggggggggggghhhhhhhhhhhh. aaaand scene!

can i be honest? y’all stress me the fuck out! and you know who you are! starts with ‘j’ ends with ‘k’. the other one being ‘s’ ends with ‘e’. but one of you i like more and it’s not you, shakespeare.

the time it took me to finish this insanely crafted three-parter was embarrassingly short. (i think i formed a dent in my bed). so when i finished i was - obviously - heartbroken, so i did what every sane person does. i read all the drabbles. aaaand the tlp social media extras. and listened to the playlist. and cried. duh.

whilst all the fics on here deserve their own kdrama, i feel this one would ruin me completely. it’s weightlifting fairy kim bok joo all over again. it’s potential is there. like, c’mon screenwriters. i know you want to. or just pay me to do it.

the characters, the yearning, the friendship - immediately gets flashbacks… - ten’s across the board!

@awrkive is one to look out for. for real. i - along with everyone else here - will be tuning in. full volume.

oh yea, whilst we’re all still here. fuck that other guy. you know who you are! (no spoilers here).

( ♛ ) LET’S GET QUIZZICAL — by @taleasnewastime

!! jimin x f!reader | 28.6k !!

friends to lovers, angst, smut (18+).

sooooo… what i’m hearing is.. we all weren’t aware flo rida’s stage name is just florida with a space..? right? right.? cuz when you say it like that..

having been a victim of multiple pub quizzes in my past (haven’t won - yet!) the dialogue in this story was fucking perfect and scary real, depicting the anxiety, thrill and pure adrenaline running through your body as you rack your brain of every dumb fact you’ve ever read and hope it’s made a home somewhere up there.

not to mention you gotta trust your teammates like your life depends on it - cuz it fuckin’ does. n park jimin being one of them? the rest of the teams… y’all better not even bother showing up atp.

i thought the manor of the story being told through its settings was.. a slice of genius. so so cool and helped set the tone too. every time we transported back to the quiz i clutched my pearls in sheer relief.

also, i wish i could’ve highlighted angst in bold cause damn! you really hit us round the head with that one. and ofc i loved it, but damn. take notes, shakespeare. we don’t have to be killing characters off to ruin mk’s life. hm?

nothing less than spectacular from our @taleasnewastime.

( ♬ ) TRICKS OF THE TRADE — by @stutterfly

!! yoongi x reader | 24.1k !!

body swap!au, soulmates!au (you know me), smut (18+), humour.

peers down through speckled glasses, what’s next..? …oh god. sighs heavily and licks pen.

so i knew from the moment i read ‘body swap’ within the tags that this concept was gonna be so fuckin’ weird but so damn good. and low n behold, it didn’t disappoint. luckily i am a lover of fuckin’ weird.

this concept is so difficult to write. the foreign sensation of a different body and trying to channel each thought n emotions involved is complicated to convey, but this author did it so incredibly well.

also, not to be that person… but that smut… i’m gon’ be sleeping soooo well tonight let’s just say that lmfao. 100/10. might go back n read it when i’m done with this.

blushing… X

shakespeare couldn’t even fathom a story such as this - and we’re talking about the guy who once wrote about an incestuous relationship between a king and his daughter.

crazy work. you are so cool @stutterfly.

( ✎ ) TRIVIA LOVE — by @luxekook

!! namjoon x reader | 5.4k !!

non idol!au, smut (18+).

to quote myself from my reblog on feb 26 2020, “why was i smiling the whole way throughout this??” n you know what? hell yea i still stand by that!

this is the second pub quiz fic i have within this chapter (surprisingly, but not disappointing), but the circumstances cannot be more different.

the first group i would join, perhaps even rally with a little. but if i’m ever attending a pub night and these mother fuckers are in tow, best believe i’m leaving. they’re not ones to fuck with yo. they have $20 to win. they mean war.

since we’re at the end, and i’m 100% convinced nobody is still reading these, soooo… i can speak my truth. someone get me on joon’s lap. you gon’ be calling me cinderella cuz it’s gonna fit perfectly by midnight bro. on the dot.

this is - n will always be - a classic to me. one that i will always return to eventually. i can dress up all i want with these big fics, but these smaller ones are always a guilty pleasure.

like cinderella returning to her mice friends (or whatever), i will always come back to @luxekook and their stories.

forever xoxo.

MARKNEE’S SPECIAL MENTIONS:

caught my attention, and deserve their flowers.

( ♬ ) THE DEVIL SKATES ON THIN ICE — by @vankoya

!! yoongi x reader | 60.5k !!

winter sports!au, fluff, angst, humour.

my love life also skates on thin ice. lmfao. especially after this.

( ✎ ) KNOCKED — by @sailoryooons

!! streamer!seokjin x f!reader | 10.6k !!

roommates to lovers, smut (18+), humour.

more like she’s about to knock him out.

( ♬ ) NEFARIOUS — by @yoonia

!! jimin x f!reader | 39.2k !!

sex club!au, gentlemen club!au, smut (18+).

lets out a long sigh. won’t be in a rush to forget this one.

( ✎ ) THINGS WE DON’T SAY — by @wintaerbaer

!! taehyung x reader | 54.5k !!

best friends to lovers, slow burn, eventual smut.

the found family trope is strooong.

© marknee, 2025. all rights reserved.

[brookghaib-blog]

Silence between hearts - III

Pairing: Robert ‘Bob’ Reynolds x reader

Summary: After Project SENTRY fails, Robert Reynolds is declared dead and sealed in a glass coffin to be hidden by O.X.E. Y/N, a doctor who secretly fell in love with him after a complicated path between them, refuses to believe he’s gone—fighting to save what’s left of him while grief and denial consume her, the path to look for him would ruin her, but to what extreme.

Word count: 7,5k

Warning: physical violence, alcohol consumption

Chapter II - IV

--

The air between them had changed.

Y/N still ran every test, every scan, every draw of blood. Still watched him like a subject, not a person. But Bob had grown quieter. Sadder. He didn’t joke. He didn’t smile. He followed orders, endured the pain, but something was slipping.

Today, as she adjusted the restraints on his arm for a nerve conductivity test, he finally spoke.

“Why can’t we just be friends?”

She didn’t look up. “Keep your arm still.”

He did. But his voice came again, lower. “You stay longer than anyone. You talk to me like I matter, sometimes. And then it’s gone again. I just want someone real. Someone to sit with.”

Y/N exhaled sharply, eyes on her clipboard. “Bob, don’t start this.”

“I’m not asking for much. Just company. You’re here anyway.”

Her tone snapped. “Stop.”

Bob blinked, confused, but kept going. “Is it because I’m not like you? Not smart, not rich, not—”

“Enough.” She turned to him, voice rising. “Don’t make assumptions about me. You don’t know anything about who I am or what I feel. This is a project, not a therapy group. You’re not entitled to my time.”

Bob flinched.

Then something shifted.

His eyes shimmered gold.

He stood, slow and deliberate, and crossed the space between them. Before she could react, he grabbed her—not violently, but firm. Back against the wall. His hand wrapped lightly around her throat.

His voice was ice.

“Who are you talking to like that?”

Y/N froze, staring at the burning gold in his eyes.

“You think I’m just some broken lab rat?” he said, low. “I let you hurt me. Let you poke and cut and watch me fall apart. I let you see me weak.”

His grip didn’t tighten, but his presence did. It filled the room. Commanding. Divine.

“I’m not a toy,” he said. “Not your puppet. If you want to treat me like something less than human—fine. But don’t lie to me and pretend it’s kindness.”

She tried to speak, but her voice caught in her throat.

He leaned in, eyes burning.

“You forget what I am, Y/N. But I never do.”

And just like that, he let go.

Stepped back.

She coughed, stunned, one hand at her neck, the other gripping the edge of the counter for balance. Bob’s shoulders heaved, chest rising and falling as if waking up from something.

Bob stood frozen.

Y/N was on the ground, gasping for air, one hand clutching her throat, her face flushed red from the pressure. She coughed violently, struggling to find her breath again. Bob’s body went cold, all the adrenaline from before vanishing in an instant.

“Y/N—” His voice cracked.

He dropped to his knees beside her, his hands hovering helplessly, terrified to touch her again. “Oh god. I—I didn’t mean to—I didn’t mean to do that. I don’t know what happened, I just—please, I’m so sorry. I didn’t want to hurt you—”

She flinched as his hand got too close.

Bob pulled back instantly.

The hurt in his eyes was almost worse than the attack itself. His lips parted, trembling, panic overtaking his face. “Did I—did I break something? Did I choke you too hard? Did I hurt your throat—?”

“I’m fine,” Y/N rasped, her voice raw, trying to sit up. Her head spun from the pressure and shock, but she pushed through it. She didn’t want to look afraid of him. She wouldn’t.

Bob hesitated before offering his hand again—slowly, gently, like approaching a wounded animal. She looked at it. Then at him. Reluctantly, she took it.

He helped her to her feet, supporting her with more care than she expected, leading her slowly toward the medical bed where he'd been tested a thousand times before. She sat down with a wince, exhaling shakily, still holding her throat.

“I didn’t mean to,” he whispered again, more to himself now, backing away just a little but never taking his eyes off her. “I was just—I was angry and…I felt like I wasn’t anything to you. I don't know why I did that, I'm so sorry I don't know what happened.”

Y/N swallowed, wincing at the sting.

“You’re okay, I know you,” she said softly, barely above a whisper. “You’re not yourself either. Not always.”

Bob’s shoulders hunched. “It took over me. Just… something I don't know, I can't control myself sometimes. ”

She watched him. The fear in his face, the remorse in his body language. And beneath it all… the boy who just wanted to be understood.

Y/N let out a breath, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “You didn’t kill me. I’m okay.”

“But I could have,” he said, eyes wide with guilt. “I felt it. And if I ever did that to you for real…”

“You didn’t,” she interrupted firmly.

He went quiet, his chest still rising and falling too quickly, hands clenched into trembling fists.

For a long moment, there was only silence. The hum of machines. The pounding echo of adrenaline wearing off.

Y/N sat straighter, gathering herself. “I’ll file a report,” she said flatly, eyes on the floor. “We’ll document it like any other reaction. Just another test.”

Bob’s jaw clenched. “Is that all I am to you again?”

She looked up at him. Saw the pain. The longing.

Her throat burned. Her chest ached.

“No,” she whispered. “You’re not.”

And for once, she wasn’t sure if that was a lie.

"Bob, let's get to your room for now okay, I need to take a break and deliver this record, you're good but we need to learn these effects of the serum." She was still holding her neck not sure if still hurts or out of shock. Dr.Ilari is right, the creation won't always love it's maker.

"Can you ahm...at least come by so I could see that you are okay?" Bob said in a very soft voice, almost scared given the boundaries she had setup just days ago.

"Don't worry I will."

--

The harsh overhead lights in the lab flickered slightly as Y/N stood at the terminal, eyes scanning through the footage. She had already reviewed it three times—frame by frame, tracking the moment Bob's demeanor snapped, when the gold seeped into his eyes and the man became something else. Her neck still ached faintly, though she covered it with a high collar. She didn’t need anyone asking questions.

The door to the observation room opened behind her.

“Y/N,” Dr. Ilari’s voice was low, edged with concern. “I read the incident report.”

She didn’t look away from the screen. “It was a contained outburst. Nothing that hasn’t been expected.”

“You say that like he didn’t nearly crush your trachea.”

Now she turned to him, her arms folding defensively. “He stopped himself. That’s the difference between him and the Sentry. He came back. Bob came back.”

Ilari crossed his arms, studying her. “You’re doing too much alone. First you take full control of the project, now you're getting physically attacked and brushing it off like you stubbed your toe?”

“I told you, I'm fine.”

“No, you’re not. You’re isolating yourself from the team, you’re emotionally investing in the subject, and now you’re defending him when every sign is pointing to instability.”

Y/N’s eyes narrowed. “I’m not emotionally investing. I’m managing the only thing that matters in this facility. Every test, every breakthrough, every ounce of control we have over him is because I kept pushing. If I step back now, we lose everything.”

Ilari took a breath, softer now. “Valentina isn’t going to keep waiting. She wants the kill switch implemented. Protocol 8-C. A single trigger to neutralize him. The board’s growing concerned. The reports show erratic behavior—unprovoked aggression, memory lapses, exponential power spikes.”

Y/N froze.

“No.” Her voice was sharp. “Absolutely not.”

Ilari sighed, already expecting her answer. “We don’t even know what he's capable of yet. If something inside him ever fully takes over—”

“I said no.” She stepped forward now, tension in every muscle. “That would kill him. Not Sentry. Not some abstract idea of power. Bob. That switch wouldn't neutralize an entity—it would murder a person. And I won’t let that happen.”

“He’s not just a person anymore,” Ilari said, his voice more careful now. “And I think you know that.”

She looked away, jaw tight.

“Do you really believe you can keep him in check?” he asked.

Y/N took a breath, swallowing hard. “I believe I can reach him. There’s something inside him that listens. That wants to be better. And I’m the only one he trusts right now.”

Ilari studied her for a long moment. “You’re falling into this too deeply.”

She turned her back to him, returning to the footage. “Maybe. But so far, it’s working.”

“Until it doesn’t.”

There was silence again, just the low hum of the recording looping on the screen—Bob’s hands unclenching, the golden glow fading from his eyes, the look of horror on his face when he realized what he’d done.

“I won’t authorize the kill switch,” Y/N said quietly. “If they want it, they’ll have to take me off the project.”

Ilari stood still. The weight of her words sat between them like a loaded weapon. He nodded slowly.

“I’ll hold them off as long as I can. But be careful, Y/N. You think you’re saving him, but I’ve seen what this job does to people. What your father’s pressure did to you. Don’t make yourself the next casualty.”

Y/N didn’t answer.

Dr. Ilari didn’t leave. He lingered behind her, arms folded across his chest, waiting for the silence to wear thin.

Y/N knew what was coming. She felt it before he even spoke again.

“Just build it.”

She exhaled sharply through her nose, her back still to him. “You think if you say it softer, I’ll listen?”

“I think if I remind you that Valentina Fontaine signs your paycheck, you might remember we’re not running a charity here. This isn’t a healing center, Y/N. It’s a containment facility. And Bob—”

“—is not a monster,” she snapped, spinning to face him.

Ilari didn’t flinch. “Then what is he?”

She opened her mouth, but no words came.

He stepped closer.

“Build it. Don’t install it. Don’t even show him. Just give them something on paper. She’ll back off. The board will settle. You’ll buy yourself time. But if something goes wrong again—when it does—we’ll need insurance. You need insurance.”

“I’m not putting a kill switch on him like he’s a rabid dog.”

“I’m not asking you to use it,” Ilari said. “I’m asking you to survive this. Because if Valentina thinks for one second you’re letting emotions cloud your judgment—”

“I am using judgment,” Y/N growled. “I’ve tested his vitals. Tracked every response. Monitored the shifts in his brain activity. What happened yesterday was a trigger—emotional, not primal. He came back from it. He fought it off. That means something.”

“And what happens when he doesn’t?” Ilari countered. “What happens when the thing inside him decides it likes the control? Or worse—when it realizes there’s no one to stop it? Do you think it’ll hesitate to level this entire building?”

Y/N's throat tightened. Her voice dropped.

“I’m not killing him. I won’t.”

Ilari’s expression softened—just slightly. “Then don’t. Just design the blueprint. Lock it in a drawer. Let it collect dust, for all I care. But if you don’t give Valentina a way to feel in control, she’ll replace you. And whoever comes next will use it.”

Y/N’s shoulders slumped.

She turned back to the monitor. Bob was still on screen—sitting in the corner of his room from hours ago, curled forward, fingers tangled in his hair. His lips moved, talking to no one. Or maybe to her. Maybe to the Void. Maybe both.

“She’ll use it the second she feels threatened.”

“She will. But you don’t have to. Not if you stay ahead of her.”

Y/N stared into the frozen frame.

“Build a god,” she whispered, “and everyone wants the off-switch.”

Ilari’s voice was gentler now. “You’ve already humanized him, Y/N. That’s why this is so hard for you. But this world… it doesn’t care how kind his eyes look when he apologizes. It cares about survival.”

“I know.”

She paused. The cursor blinked. Her mind spiraled.

“If I design it,” she said finally, “I build it so it never works.”

Ilari smiled faintly. “That’s your call.”

She nodded, quietly, as her chest ached with the weight of compromise. Looking at the screen again, her voice was barely a breath.

“But he trusts me. He trusts me like I’m the only good thing he has left.”

“And that,” Ilari said, heading to the door, “is exactly why it’ll destroy you if you’re wrong.”

He left.

And Y/N, standing alone in the glow of the monitor, let her fingers hover over the keyboard. A blank file stared back at her.

"Failsafe Protocol: Subject SENTRY."

She didn’t type another word.

--

The hallway was quiet.

Y/N paused outside the door to Bob’s room, the security panel blinking patiently as if questioning her resolve. She stared at it for a moment, then placed her hand on the scanner. A soft beep, then the door slid open.

Inside, the room was dim—calm, almost peaceful. The sterile overhead lights were off, replaced by the warm glow of a small desk lamp. Bob was curled in the corner of the couch, a thick paperback in his hands, eyes trailing each word with slow intensity. He looked up at the sound of the door, blinking once like he wasn’t sure if she was real.

Then, a quiet, small smile tugged at his lips.

“You actually came,” he said.

Y/N stepped in, letting the door close behind her. She folded her arms, offering a small shrug. “I promised.”

Bob’s smile shifted, crooked now, something heavier behind it.

“I don’t know if you’re good with promises.”

The words hit her sharper than they should have. Not because he was wrong. But because he was right—and it was her fault he thought that.

Her arms dropped, and she took a slow step forward, sitting carefully in the chair across from him. “That’s fair,” she admitted. “But I meant this one.”

Bob closed the book softly, resting it on his lap. He didn’t look angry. Just... tired. There were darker circles under his eyes than before. His jaw was more tense.

Y/N watched him for a second, debating whether to speak. She knew she should keep things neutral—clinical. But then he met her eyes again, and she couldn’t.

“I wanted to check on you,” she said, gently. “See how you’re feeling today.”

Bob looked away. “Like I’m losing my mind.”

Y/N felt a knot tighten in her chest.

“It’s the walls,” he added, voice low. “The waiting. Waking up and seeing the same ceiling. The same guards. The same fucking tests. I try to read, but it’s like my brain gets full too fast. My hands shake some days. Or I just... go numb. And no one talks to me unless it’s with a clipboard.”

His eyes flicked up to hers again.

“Except you.”

Y/N didn’t know what to say. She’d designed this room, this schedule, this isolation. She’d made sure he was locked down. That he was controlled.

She was the one who lured him here.

“You’re not crazy,” she said softly. “Your mind’s just... trying to protect itself. It’s adapting to something it’s never had to face. And I’m sorry. I know what being alone like this does to someone.”

Bob scoffed, but it wasn’t mocking—it was sad. “Do you?”

Y/N hesitated. “Yeah. I do.”

He nodded, slowly. “Well... I don’t want to hurt anyone. You know that, right?”

“I know.”

“I didn’t mean to grab you. I didn’t even remember doing it until I saw you coughing on the floor.”

She nodded.

“I thought maybe after that... you wouldn’t want to come back.”

“I did,” she said. “Because it wasn’t you.”

Bob leaned back, the book forgotten in his hands. “Still felt like me.”

“It wasn’t,” she said firmly, then softened her voice. “And it’s not your fault you’re stuck here. It’s mine.”

His brow furrowed slightly, confused.

“I was the one who asked you to trust me,” Y/N said. “To follow me out of that hell. I gave you hope, then put you back in a different kind of cage. I told myself it was for your safety. For the world’s. But maybe I just didn’t want to admit I didn’t know how to fix any of it.”

Bob stared at her for a long time.

“Why do you care?” he asked, voice quieter. “Not as a doctor. As you.”

Y/N looked away.

That was the question, wasn’t it?

She stood, unsure how long she could let herself stay this close.

“Because I made a promise,” she whispered. “And because I see you. Not just what they call you. Not just the power. You. And you don’t deserve to feel like this.”

He didn’t respond. But she didn’t expect him to.

Instead, he picked his book back up, but didn’t open it. His fingers just touched the cover, thoughtful.

“Can you stay?” he asked suddenly, almost childlike.

Y/N looked at him—exhausted, bruised by weeks of silence and fear—and nodded.

She walked over and sat beside him on the couch. Close, but not touching.

“I’ll stay,” she said. “For a while.”

She gets up from the couch and starts walking toward his bed.

Bob watched her move in silence, eyes flickering with something unsure. She didn’t hesitate, just sat at the edge of his bed, keeping a respectful distance. Not too close, but close enough that he felt her presence—calming, grounding.

“I have a few questions,” she said, voice soft, but not clinical this time. “Personal ones. Harmless.”

He nodded warily.

“What brought you to Malaysia? I mean… before all of this. What were you doing?”

Bob’s shoulders tensed. His eyes dropped from hers, and he rubbed the back of his neck—embarrassed.

“I was running,” he admitted after a pause. “From everything. My name. My past. From who I became.”

Y/N didn’t say anything. She waited.

“I didn’t have a job,” he added, quieter now. “Not a real one, anyway. I was… a full-time addict. Mostly meth. Sometimes whatever I could find. I wasn’t surviving. Just… stalling.”

His voice cracked near the end—not from shame, but from something deeper. Resignation. And something that sounded like fear of being seen.

She already knew about his addiction, that was why she targeted him. But some of her, in this moment, hoped that he had something for himself, a family, friends, maybe a girlfriend, someone waiting.

She didn’t try to comfort him with platitudes. She just sat with it.

After a long moment, she asked gently, “Did you accept my offer to die… or because you thought it might keep you sober, Bob?”

He took a breath.

“I don’t know,” he whispered. “But I didn’t care. If I did die—I think I would’ve been okay with that.”

That hit her harder than she expected.

Y/N blinked fast, willing the sting in her eyes to go away. A few tears welled up, but she refused to let them fall. Not yet. Not here.

She shifted her posture, straightened her back. Bob glanced at her and noticed—he didn’t say anything, but he saw it.

Then he asked something that caught her off-guard.

“Why did you take this project so personally? Why… care about me at all? You've already told me beofre. People died before me. I’m not the first attempt.”

She hesitated.

Her eyes flickered toward him before she finally said it.

“It was my father in charge before,” she began. “I wasn’t involved yet. Not really. Not until you.”

He looked confused. “Then… why now?”

She sighed. “Because it was mine. Originally. I came up with the initial formula. The groundwork. He hijacked it and sold it because he believe it would fail but it was good money. Valentina really wants to build herself a superhuman. And he never cared if it worked, just if it yielded power.”

She paused, voice low and bitter now.

“I joined again because I wanted one that stays alive.”

Bob’s brows knit together. “What do you mean?”

“I knew something was off. Everyone treated the subjects like they were machines. Inject. Wait. Watch. If it failed—dispose and try again. But I had a feeling… it needed more than that. It wasn’t just about serum compatibility or gene splicing. It was also psychological. All of them fall mentally and that ended up consuming them and something killed them, mostt likely something from the serum obviously.”

She finally looked him in the eyes.

“You can’t build gods in a lab without building them up as people first. And my father—he doesn’t get that. He’s a machine. I’m not.”

Bob swallowed.

Something settled in the room. He could feel it, like the weight of an unsaid truth hanging in the air between them.

“And what happens when this project ends?” he asked. “When they decide I’m not useful anymore?”

Y/N didn’t answer right away.

Then, with a voice barely above a whisper, she said, “You are useful, you are something, and if it fails than...I'll fight for you to get to live.”

Bob stared at her, disbelieving at first.

“You don’t have to.”

“I know,” she replied. "But something tells me that if you have some type of trust than your mind will have strength to keep going, at least until settling."

Y/N looked down at her hands in her lap, clasped too tightly. She hadn’t planned on staying this long in his room, not like this—not talking, not connecting. But something about being near him tonight made the walls she kept around herself feel… exhausting.

And so, quietly, she began.

“I was cruel to you,” she said. “At the start. Cold. Strict. Like I didn’t care.”

Bob blinked, taken aback. “I mean… yeah, maybe a little,” he offered with a soft laugh, trying to defuse the weight in her voice.

But she didn’t laugh. She looked at him, eyes more vulnerable than he’d ever seen them.

“I did it because I was scared,” she confessed. “Because I wasn’t sure my theory would work. And instead of trusting myself… I mimicked my father. I used his methods. His cruelty. Because… he always seemed to be right.”

Bob’s smile slowly faded.

“I tortured you,” she said bitterly. “With all those tests, the harsh regimens. I justified it as science. I told myself you were invincible. But I was trying to silence my own insecurity. I didn’t know if I was good enough to lead this. I still don’t.”

Bob’s chest rose and fell, slow and steady.

Y/N bit her lip and glanced toward him again.

“But then I met you. And… started knowing you,” she added softly. “And you weren’t just another experiment. You were… someone broken, like me. Someone full of pain, and still breathing. You reminded me that this was never about formulas. It was about people.”

Something shifted in Bob’s face then. His eyes softened. Warmth crept into them—real, flickering emotion. Not the fire of power. Not the gold of the Void.

But Bob.

He moved slightly, closing the space between them. Just a little.

“I’m grateful you said that,” he said, voice low. “You didn’t have to.”

She looked away again, suddenly self-conscious.

But he went on, braver now.

“I hope you prove your father wrong. I hope you make something real. Something better. And… if I’m part of that… I’m glad. Because for the first time in years, I don’t want to die.”

Y/N’s breath hitched. Her throat tightened.

“You gave me that,” he said. “A reason to try. To live. Even if I don’t understand it yet.”

They didn’t move for a while.

At some point—neither of them remembered when—their hands brushed.

Her fingers touched the edge of his. Warm. Tentative.

They didn’t pull away.

They didn’t speak.

They just sat there, fingers barely linked, as if holding on would make the moment last longer. As if breaking it would mean returning to the silence, the tests, the weight of the world they carried.

Bob looked at her like she was light.

And for the first time, she allowed herself to see his features. Indeed, he was really handsome, and his eyes so blue...

It was as if they were afraid to move, feeling the slight touch of each oher hoping the other would notice and pull away. Both were thinking the same, looking at each other with a sparkle in their eyes. Perhaps it was just the moonlight, or maybe it was something much more complicated.

--

The past few days had brought something soft between them. The sharpness of their sessions dulled, replaced by quiet laughter between tests, inside jokes scribbled in the margins of files, and teasing remarks during blood draws. Where once she stood above him with a clipboard and a guarded expression, now she lingered beside him, her smile easier, her walls thinner.

It didn’t go unnoticed.

Dr. Ilari said nothing. But when Y/N passed him in the hallway that morning with a coffee in her hand and a barely concealed smile tugging at the corner of her mouth, he gave her a single, knowing glance—one she refused to meet.

Later that night, Bob sat alone in his room, a book open in his lap, though he wasn’t really reading. His mind kept drifting—back to her, to her laugh that slipped through her lips like an accident, to the way her eyes softened now when she looked at him. It scared him, how much it meant. How much it soothed.

The door burst open suddenly.

“Bob,” her voice rang out.

He looked up, startled—and then completely still.

There she was.

Not in her usual lab coat or the sharp ponytail she wore when in command. Not in her practical shoes or pale eyes dulled by overthinking. No.

She stood framed by the doorway like a vision—wearing a fitted top tucked into a long, flowing skirt that swayed with her movement, the soft candlelight from the hallway catching the shimmer of the fabric. Her heels clicked on the tile floor, elegant and certain. Her makeup was subtle but defining, her lips painted in a deep, soft hue. And her hair—styled, parted in a way that framed her face just so—was down, like silk.

He blinked.

For a second, he truly forgot how to breathe.

“I had a crazy idea,” she said, breathless from excitement, a wild gleam in her eyes.

Before he could respond, something soft and heavy hit his lap.

He looked down.

A bag.

Confused, Bob opened it slowly—only to find a neatly folded pair of men’s dress pants and a crisp button-up shirt. The colors... they matched her outfit.

Matching.

His heart stuttered.

“Y/N…?” he started, unsure what this was.

But his voice faltered when he looked back up—because she was smiling at him like something good was finally happening. Like they were about to escape the walls that had been closing in on them for weeks.

She tilted her head, playful. “You said you were going insane locked up in here. So I figured… why not go a little insane with style?”

Her eyes sparkled.

And Bob—speechless. "Get dressed." She says as she leaves the room.

Y/N leaned casually against the wall just outside Bob’s room, arms crossed, eyes flicking toward the hallway camera with a glint of rebellion in them. She could hear him moving inside—soft thuds, the rustle of fabric, the occasional grumbled curse under his breath as he tried to figure out the buttons on the shirt she picked. It made her smirk.

When he finally emerged, her gaze swept over him—dark slacks snug on his tall frame, the shirt slightly wrinkled but charmingly so, sleeves rolled just below his elbows. He looked…human. Not like a patient. Not like a weapon. Just like a man.

And a devastatingly handsome one at that.

He raised an eyebrow. “So, are you going to tell me what this is about, or am I being lured into some underground fighting ring?”

Y/N chuckled, pushing off the wall. “No fighting tonight. Just a little... sneaky escape.”

Bob blinked. “Wait. Escape? From here?”

She nodded, her grin widening. “You said you were going crazy. So we’re going out. A bar. Some street food. Maybe a rooftop. You deserve to breathe real air.”

He looked around like someone might pop out from a corner and say this was all a test. “You’re serious?”

“Dead serious,” she said, already turning on her heel. “Come on. You’ve got five minutes of freedom before the moral part of my brain catches up.”

Before he could respond, she was gone—heels echoing lightly down the hallway.

Bob followed, pulse ticking faster than usual. The lab always felt like a cage. But this? This felt like something out of a dream.

Y/N ducked into the control room with practiced ease. She scanned her badge, fingers flying over the keypad until the surveillance system blinked into standby mode. Cameras looped. Lights dimmed in the lower corridors. Power to the locks was momentarily redirected.

“Just a little blackout,” she murmured to herself.

Outside the room, Bob waited, fidgeting, still half-convinced someone would storm in and drag him back to a testing bed. But when she emerged and gave him a simple, triumphant nod, he smiled.

They crept through the lab’s halls like teenagers sneaking out past curfew. Every closed door was a thrill. Every quiet footstep a tiny rebellion. At the exit, Y/N used a physical key—one of the only old security measures left—to slip them out into the humid Malaysian night.

The city opened up before them like a pulse. Neon signs buzzed in the distance. Scooter engines growled in the streets. The scent of grilled food wafted through the air, sweet and smoky. Music played faintly from a corner bar, the kind where no one would ever recognize a living weapon or the daughter of a mad scientist.

Bob took a deep breath.

It wasn’t perfect.

But it was real.

And when he glanced at Y/N—walking ahead of him, skirt swaying, hair lifted slightly in the breeze—he felt, for the first time in a long time, like a man walking next to a woman… not a subject under surveillance.

“Where are we going first?” he asked, falling into step beside her.

She looked up at him, lips curved in a grin. “Wherever you want.”

And just like that, the night was theirs.

--

The bar was nestled between two noodle shops, its glowing red lanterns swaying gently in the night breeze. Inside, the atmosphere was golden and easy—walls painted deep maroon, string lights overhead, the air rich with spices and the faint scent of incense. A live band played from a corner, their music a jazzy mix of old Western swing and local soul, the perfect rhythm to make hips sway and laughter bloom.

Y/N was the first to pull Bob toward the dance floor. He hesitated—looking at his feet like they might betray him—but she only smiled and dragged him by the wrist.

“You’re fine,” she shouted over the music, “Just follow me!”

“I can barely walk straight, let alone dance,” he muttered, but his feet moved anyway.

They found themselves in a group of cheerful, lively dancers—locals, expats, tourists. The kind of people who didn’t care where you came from as long as you knew how to smile.

A playful, older man with silver hair and a tropical shirt cut in with a charming wink. “May I steal your lovely partner for a spin?”

Y/N laughed, giving Bob a conspiratorial smirk before twirling into the man’s arms. “Only if you promise not to show him up too hard.”

The man’s wife, a short, beaming woman in a bright orange scarf, clapped her hands and turned to Bob. “Now it’s your turn, handsome.”

Caught off guard, Bob gave a sheepish smile, but followed her into the rhythm. She was light on her feet, graceful in a way that made Bob feel less like a statue and more like he belonged there, in motion, in life.

The music slowed, then sped up again, and the couples spun and twirled. Laughs echoed off the bar’s warm walls. The room glowed like honey.

Then, in the natural rhythm of the dance, it happened—partners switched again, laughter in the air, arms brushing past, and suddenly—

Y/N was in Bob’s arms.

She blinked up at him, breath catching for a moment. His hands found her waist. Her fingers curled gently behind his neck.

They were close. Too close for comfort. Or maybe too close for denial.

Neither said anything at first.

The music pulsed softly now—less wild, more sensual, the kind of melody that made time stretch and bend.

“You’re not half bad,” she finally whispered, looking at him through her lashes.

“You’re the one carrying me,” he muttered, his voice hoarse, though he didn't pull away. “I'm just trying not to step on your feet.”

She smiled, but it was softer now. Smaller. Real.

Their bodies moved slowly, swaying in sync. Something in the air had shifted—no longer just dancing, no longer just playing pretend in a borrowed night. Bob’s hands were gentle, respectful, but he wasn’t looking away from her this time.

He was watching her.

Really watching her.

And Y/N wasn’t pretending not to notice.

She felt his warmth through her clothes. Felt the steadiness of his breath. His eyes weren’t glowing gold now—they were just... Bob’s. Kind. Searching. Like maybe this moment meant more than it should.

“Thank you,” he said, suddenly.

“For what?”

“For tonight. For this.”

She swallowed, her voice almost lost in the music. “You needed it.”

His hand slid slightly along her back, anchoring her. “So did you.”

The streets of Kuala Lumpur pulsed with life, even at this hour. Lanterns swung over narrow alleys, street vendors called out in bursts of Bahasa, and the air smelled like fried garlic, smoke, and sweet condensed milk.

Y/N and Bob slipped through the crowds like two teenagers cutting class, hands brushing accidentally, heads tilted back in laughter. The first bar had been quaint and old-fashioned, but the second was neon-drenched chaos—walls glowing pink, electronic music thumping through the floor. The kind of place where no one looked too long and everyone was dancing like the world might end.

Y/N had dragged him inside before he could even read the sign. Bob had protested weakly, but one drink in, he was laughing with his head thrown back, loosening up in a way she hadn’t seen before—not even in their quietest sessions.

At the bar, she leaned into him to yell over the music, her breath brushing his ear. “Try this,” she said, handing him a drink with a mischievous grin. “It’s like fire in a glass.”

Bob raised a skeptical eyebrow but took a sip. He instantly coughed, eyes watering. “You’re trying to kill me.”

“No,” she laughed, eyes bright, “just trying to remind you you’re alive.”

He looked at her then, the lights turning her face violet and gold. “It’s working.”

The song shifted to something slower but bass-heavy, and Bob turned his gaze away, setting the drink down as though afraid of saying too much. Y/N said nothing either, but the corner of her mouth curled knowingly.

They hit the next spot just down the street—a rooftop bar with glowing tables and dim candlelight. The city stretched below them in soft blues and oranges. The breeze tugged gently at her hair as she stood at the edge, arms out like she might fly.

“This is the most alive I’ve felt in years,” she said, her voice lower now, almost reverent.

Bob leaned against the railing beside her. “You look it.”

She turned to look at him, eyebrow raised.

“I mean—” he fumbled, rubbing the back of his neck, “I mean you just… look happy.”

She didn’t respond at first, only let the quiet hang between them.

Then, softly: “I guess I forgot I could be.”

They didn’t touch. Not here. But when she stepped a little closer and he didn’t move away, their shoulders brushed, and neither of them pulled back. Their silhouettes stood together, dark against the lights of the city, like two survivors just remembering what joy tasted like.

From there, it was a stumble into a back-alley karaoke bar filled with locals cheering each other on. Y/N shoved Bob into a booth with a devilish grin. “Your turn,” she said, flipping open the worn songbook.

“I’m not singing.”

“Oh yes, you are.”

“Absolutely not.”

Ten minutes later, Bob Reynolds was standing under a flickering spotlight, mumbling the first verse of an ‘80s rock ballad with all the shame of a man sent to the gallows. But by the second chorus—her laughing in the front row, clapping off beat—he was belting out the words like a man possessed.

She joined him for the last chorus, pulling the mic from his hands. Their voices collided in awful, glorious harmony. The small crowd roared. Bob bowed theatrically. She curtsied. Their laughter echoed off the walls.

They exited hand-in-hand, still breathless.

“I don’t think I’ve laughed like that in years,” he said, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

“You were awful,” she grinned.

“You were worse.”

They ended up on the curb of a quiet street, shoes in hand, legs stretched out. Her head leaned on his shoulder for just a second. A quick, unspoken moment of surrender to the softness between them.

Neither commented on it.

They didn’t need to.

Because in the electric warmth of the night, with the stars overhead and alcohol blurring the edges of their pain, they weren’t test subject and scientist. Not invincible man and guilt-worn genius.

Just Bob and Y/N.

And the world, for now, was big enough to let them forget who they were supposed to be.

--

The lab was silent.

Cold, humming white lights cast long shadows across the floor, washing the room in sterile calm. After the warmth of the city, the contrast felt like stepping into ice water. Gone were the neon colors, the blaring music, the laughter echoing through open streets. Now there was only the quiet whirring of machines, the distant click of cooling vents, and the echo of their footsteps down the hallway.

Y/N walked a little ahead, heels in hand, her skirt brushing her ankles. She didn’t say anything. Neither did he.

Their silence wasn’t heavy.

It was… tentative.

Careful.

Like something had changed out there in the night, and now it followed them like a ghost—gentle, but undeniable.

Bob paused just outside his room, looking at her. “Hey,” he said, voice low.

She turned, her makeup slightly smudged, her eyes tired but soft. “Yeah?”

He hesitated, leaning against the doorframe. “Thanks. For tonight.”

Her smile was faint. “Don’t mention it.”

“No, I mean it,” he said. “I haven’t felt… I don’t know. Like a person. In a long time.”

The words landed between them, bare and honest.

Y/N looked at him for a long moment, then stepped closer, letting the distance shrink just a bit. “You are a person, Bob,” she said quietly. “You’re more than what they made you. More than the serum. More than what you’ve done.”

He swallowed, eyes flicking to the floor. “You make it easy to forget the other stuff.”

Her voice almost cracked when she replied. “Then let me help you forget it a little more often.”

Their eyes met, and there it was again—that quiet tension, the kind that made breathing feel deeper. Neither moved. Neither touched. But the air between them felt fragile, like a ripple waiting to break.

He gave a small nod, eyes searching hers. “You know... there was a moment tonight. Just one.”

“Hm?”

“When I looked over at you, dancing… and laughing,” he said, voice rough with sleep and something else, “I thought, if this is it—if this is all I get—then maybe that’s okay.”

Y/N’s lips parted slightly, stunned by the honesty of it.

She didn’t know what to say.

So instead, she did something smaller. Simpler.

She stepped forward and gently reached for his hand, still bruised from a recent test. She didn’t hold it. Just brushed her fingers along his palm before letting go.

He looked at her like she’d touched something deeper than skin.

“I should go,” she whispered. “It’s late.”

“Yeah,” he said, his voice quieter now. “Okay.”

She turned, but before she could walk away, he spoke again—so softly she barely heard it.

“Y/N?”

She stopped.

“You looked beautiful tonight.”

She didn’t look back. Just stood there in the hallway, letting the words settle into her.

Then: “You weren’t too bad yourself, Bob.”

She walked away with a small smile playing at her lips, her footsteps echoing into the silence of the lab.

Y/N’s footsteps echoed softly through the hallway, fading with distance as she walked away from Bob’s door.

But something tugged at her.

It wasn’t just his words. It was the way he had looked at her—like she was something fragile and rare. Something he couldn’t quite believe was real. It had been a long time since anyone had seen her like that. If ever.

She slowed.

Then stopped.

Turned to glance back.

The sterile hallway was still and empty, but the weight of everything hung there—what they'd said, what they hadn’t. Her heart was pounding, not just from nerves, but from the pull she could no longer ignore.

Before she could talk herself out of it, her feet moved. Fast. Purposeful.

She doubled back and reached his door, pausing just long enough to take a breath. Then she pushed it open.

Inside, Bob had his back turned, shirt halfway off as he reached for the dull light green set of clothes folded on the cot. He turned, surprised by the sound, his shirt still hanging from one arm.

“Y/N?” His voice was low, uncertain.

She just looked at him—really looked. He was beautiful in his brokenness, in the way his shoulders tensed like he was always bracing for pain, in how human he looked now compared to the power she’d seen before.

Her shoes hit the floor with a soft thud as she stepped inside.

“I’m going to regret this,” she said under her breath, more to herself than to him. Her voice cracked a little. “But can I do something really quick?”

Bob blinked. “Uh… yeah. Of course. What do you—?”

He didn’t get to finish.

Y/N closed the distance between them in two quick steps, reaching for him—hesitant for a second—and then her hand slid to his jaw, thumb brushing lightly along his cheekbone.

And then she kissed him.

Soft at first.

Searching.

Bob froze, eyes wide, every part of him stunned by the sudden contact. It didn’t make sense. She wasn’t supposed to do this. He wasn’t supposed to deserve it.

But her lips didn’t lie. They trembled slightly, like she was scared too. Like this was something neither of them knew how to survive, but they couldn’t stop.

And then, slowly, something in him gave way.

His hand found the back of her neck, fingers threading into her hair, and he kissed her back.

Deeper this time.

Not desperate. But reverent.

Like she was something holy, and this was the only language he had left to speak.

Their bodies pulled closer, the air between them too charged to ignore. His shirt slipped to the floor, forgotten. Her hands gripped lightly at his sides, holding him there like she didn’t know how to let go.

When they finally broke the kiss, their foreheads rested against each other’s. Their breathing was heavy, uneven.

Bob’s voice was rough, full of everything he couldn’t say. “Why did you do that?”

Y/N closed her eyes, her voice barely a whisper. “Because I didn’t want to walk away without knowing what it would feel like.”

Silence.

Then his fingers brushed against her wrist, gently. “And now that you know?”

She opened her eyes.

Still afraid. Still unsure.

“I’m still trying to breathe.”

He smiled softly, bittersweet. “Me too.”

"Ok so..now I really have to go I have to shower and sleep cause my feat are killing me but...I see you tomorrow Bob." She got up, all smiley at him, making her way to the door.

"I see you tomorrow Y/N." For the first time in a long, Bob felt it, he didn't know if it was love, he didn't even know how complicated things could due to their circunstances but for now, his path started to make sense.

Everything happens for a reason right.

[bwabys-scenarios]

helloooo!! I saw ur requests were open and that you were askin for some dungeon meshi x chubby reader....I gotchu covered.

May I please request some Chilchuck(or..Chilchack?? Ive no clue what the spelling is..) x Chubby!Reader and maybe also some Laois x Chubby!Reader? If you dont do multiples then either guy is fine!!

Sfw and nsfw on how they interact and think of your body? Scenarios like you tending to grab Chilchuck away from danger alot so he gets alot of booba action?? Embarrassed flustered old man?? Having to look up at you(if you were to be taller) but all he sees is ur chest?? Him givin Alot of needy attention to them when you do fool around cuz it Has been a big thing on his mind?? Him stiching and adjusting ur undershirt so it actually helps support ur chest a bit better and ur so grateful? Laois having a staring habit when he spaces out...yknow him and his tendencies to be curious(he wanted to Count Izutsumi nipples for gods sake.), he just doesnt know, he doesnt mean for it to be creepy or anything he jus is SO infactuated w ur body its so so so beautiful to him, him getting super happy and starts exploring ur body when consent is given?? Alot of his attention is on ur chest too, weighing it, squeezing. Stuff w warm body heat too, Just all around big loving

Thank you so much if you decide to do this and incredibly sorry if I messed up in my ask in anyway 💖💖💖

Chilchuck x Chubby!Reader SFW/NSFW HCs

!!REBLOGS APPRECIATED!

a/n: I will do the Laois one in a separate post!! The Chilchuck ideas just… spoke to me!! Also pls send me Dungeon Meshi requests… I’m open to writing for all the adult characters…

warnings: boob sucking, tittyfucking, breeding, cockwarming, thigh fucking, pussy eating

SFW

-you’re probably the only one in the party that he can sleep next to without complaining. you’re soft and warm, and when you ask if you can share his bed with him for the night because it’s cold, he’s… a bit too eager to lift up his blanket for you to join him.

-he complains that you don’t eat enough, and ends up giving you bits of his lunch and dinner. he just think your chubby cheeks are so cute when you’re chewing and likes to watch you eat. he does worry for you though…

-if it’s dark and you’re a bit afraid, he’ll hold your hand. if you ask him why in front of Laois or Marcille he’ll get all flustered and say he didn’t want you to trip him up.

-he only reaches your boobs, which is both a blessing and a curse for him. he can look at your boobs all day with little to no suspicion, but he also gets pulled into your boobs quite often when you hug him or try and save him from an attack. that might sound good to some people, but to him it gets him all flustered and hard embarrassed, then he gets teased by Marcille :(

-oh my gosh snuggles with him are so nice. he’s rather light so once the two of you are close, he’ll lie on top of you and bury his face in your chest or tummy! he’s actually quite the cuddlebug, and will want to snuggle you every single night after the first time.

-your tummy… he loves it so much. Chilchuck is quite the fan of anything soft, so more often than not, when he’s taking a nap he’ll have his head in your lap and face buried in your chubby tummy.

-he’s a bit embarrassed to show you affection in front of the others, so ways he shows he cares are usually subtle unless it’s behind closed doors or away from prying eyes. he peels your apples for you, bandages you up after you get hurt, will tug on your shirt to remind you that he’s here and that he loves you, and give your palm secret kisses when no one’s looking.

-he’s surprisingly possessive? when Laois looks at you, even if he’s just curious and wants to ask you questions, Chilchuck rushes over and finds some excuse to pull you away. he’s the most worried about Laois, but doesn’t like Senshi being all close to you either. he puts up with it more though, but dislikes that Senshi acts like yours and his relationship is like puppy love(Chilchuck is a grown ass man 😭)

-he’s very soft with you, very rarely being sarcastic or short with you specifically. he made you cry once early on in your relationship and it absolutely devastated him, so since then he’s been a lot more careful about what he says

-speaking of crying, he can’t stand your tears, it makes him nervous. if you’re a cry baby be prepared for him to be fretting over you constantly!

-you’re the person everyone in the party wants to snuggle with when it gets cold, so he has to shoo people away, blushing and stuttering about how they’re crowding you. once they’re all pouting and walking away, he huffs and snuggles up to you. you find his jealousy pretty cute, so you lift up your shirt a little so he can duck under it and rest his head on your chubby tummy or breasts.

-your chubby cheeks activate his cuteness aggression. he didn’t even know he liked cute things until he saw your cheeks puffed out and warm after someone made you mad. he nearly stopped breathing, it was the cutest thing he’d ever seen, and he couldn’t help but cup your cheek in his hands. your face heated up even more when he stared up at your with those adoring eyes, gently pinching your cheeks. “soft… so soft and warm…”

-he can be a bit clingy at times, especially when it gets colder out. when you go to sleep, he has to sleep under your shirt, his head on your chest or tummy. you complain about him stretching your your shirts, but he thinks the slightly oversized look is cute on you. honestly, everything is cute on you, because you’re adorable to him.

NSFW

-boobies… he loves your boobs so much. they’re soft and warm, feeling nice and heavy in his hands when he holds them. loves when he gets to bury his face in your bare chest and just snooze… but he also adores getting to play with your nipples, gently nibbling and suckling on the perky buds. he won’t lie, he can get hard just from looking at your clothed chest…

-he is absolutely a service dom that wants to make you feel good, but he can also enjoy being taken care of sometimes!

-enjoys being between your thighs more than he likes to admit. the first time he tasted your pussy was also the first time you ever saw him look so… in love. he gets pussy drunk within minutes, not able to stop sucking on your sensitive clit until you push his head away. he had a wife so he’s definitely experienced with pleasing a woman, so don’t be surprised when he has you cumming on his tongue for an hour or more! <3

-when he’s feeling a bit horny and doesn’t want to bother you at night, he’ll kiss your temple and hold onto your hips as he fucks your thighs, his cock lightly brushing against your pussy. your thighs are fat and soft, and he just loves nestling his cock between them!

-sometimes he’s just tired and wants some snuggles, so he’ll have his cock buried inside of you while you sit on his lap. the first time he asked for this you were terrified you’d crush him because he’s so small and you’re chubby, but he begged for it, something he had never done before. you relented, and as soon as he was buried inside of you, with his head nuzzled against your chest, he looked just too content. “thank you, love… it’s perfect…”

-he’s embarrassed by how good it feels to hear you moan his name, when you say how his cock feels so nice when it hits that certain spot and how you’re gonna cum way quicker than he expected. you being so attracted to him, feeling so much pleasure by him just thrusting into you gets him feeling giddy!

-he most certainly has a bit of a breeding kink… he has 3 daughters already that he loves, but… the urge to claim you and give you a child as well does make his body heat up and his pants grow tight. Chilchuck would like to get you pregnant, but only when it’s safe to do so. he doesn’t pull out though… he just can’t, it’s too tempting and you’re way too warm and cozy… it’s why he loves cockwarming so much!

-circling back to boobs… he’s definitely the type to enjoy a good tittyfuck, but it’ll take him a while to accept this. he’s utterly embarrassed to have his cock anywhere near your face due to being a bit shy, but once he’s nestled between your breasts and your tongue touches the tip of his cock, he groans, nearly cumming right then and there. he’s already a huge fan of your breasts, so feeling them on his cock is otherworldly, and it becomes one of his favorite ways to relieve stress

-he likes to either cum inside of you or on your tummy… he refuses to cum on your face, and will only cum in your mouth if you ask. when he fucks your thighs, he does tend to make a mess all over you and feels awful since it’s not exactly easy to bathe regularly in the dungeon. but you do look awfully cute, messy and sticky with his cum, puffing out your chubby cheek to give him a pout.

[dollfacefantasy]

help okay i hope this isn't too soon but im back and i have a thirst. So basically ive been thinking about like di leon and where hes been gone on a mission for a week and when he finally comes home he has like paper work or like something on the computer and reader is just like sitting at his feet with her head in his lap while he works and she starts getting super impatient while hes on a work call and starts to act bratty and whine and stuff and then starts to suck him off and so when he hangs up he pulls her over his knee and punishes her and then they fuck. I was hoping you could put like daddy kink cuz you write it so good i love it and you can add whatever else you think fits. Hope this wasn't too much im sorry if it was.

heyyy :) so i have a fic with a kind of similar premise for leon and thirsts are usually just little blurbs to me, so i'm just gonna write part of this but thank you for the ask. i do love the idea of doing it while on the flip phone <3

leon kennedy x fem!reader cw: nsfw (18+), smut, blowjob, daddy kink, sort of exhibitionism

The entire desk shakes as Leon's phone chimes with the notification that someone is trying to reach him. For such a small device, it sure had a lot of vibration power.

Normally, he'd just reach over and grab it. Flip open the small cellphone, scan the caller ID, and hold it to his ear with his obligatory "Kennedy speaking."

But right now, he hesitates. He hesitates because you're beneath his desk. You'd managed to tug his pants loose and worm your fingers around his length. Your hand strokes him slowly, moving up and down as you look up at him with those alluring eyes of yours.

He'd been away on a mission for a few weeks, and as expected, your ache for him had grown strong. It would be easy to just brush your hands off and send you away till he finished working at his desk, but he had missed you too. He found it sweet, your need to be attached to him after some time apart. The only thing worse than having to leave you for so long would watching those pretty eyes fill with the sting of rejection.

"Be good while daddy's on the phone," he says quietly, as if he already had the other person on the line, "If you get me in trouble, I promise you your ass is gonna get it tenfold."

You nod in a display of your obedience, as if he was a fool to question you at all.

With your small reassurance, he grabs his phone and whips it open. Chris Redfield. Ok, so at least there was a chance it wouldn't be something too serious.

"Hey, man," he says as he brings it to his ear.

From your place on the ground, you can hear the muffled sound of his friend's voice. It's of no concern to you though. You rest your cheek on his thigh while your eyes stay locked on his cock held between your digits. You stroke it up and down, watching the flushed appendage with adoration.

Above you, he mumbles "mhm's" and "oh yeah, for sure's.” You don’t pay much attention beyond those brief affirmations. All you can think is how bad you want it in your mouth. It just looks so good, and it's been too long since you've had it.

But you shouldn't, right? He told you to be good. But this would feel so good for both of you. It seems like a win-win from your perspective.

"Yeah, that's bullshit. I don't blame you I would've done the- fuck," Leon says, getting cut off by his own hissed expletive as your lips engulf the tip of his dick.

You hear a muffled response on the other end, but you don't look up to see your boyfriend's reaction. Instead, you work his shaft deeper into your mouth.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Sorry. Got a cramp in my leg. I get 'em bad after assignments," he mutters.

His hand comes to rest on the back of your head, so clearly, he wasn't too displeased with what you were doing down there.

You brace yourself on his thighs, pads of your fingers digging into the meat of his legs. Rising and falling, your head bobs. You coat the flushed skin with your saliva, letting it dribble from your mouth down to his balls.

His teeth dig into his bottom lip as he wrestles with the desire to moan. Poor Chris on the other side of this call. Not a word he said was taking root in Leon's brain. The short responses were even more half-hearted than before.

"I'm listening. Sorry, I was just... preoccupied when you called, y'know?" you hear him mumble.

You swirl your tongue over the ridge and pull off to lap at more of him. Your hand strokes what your mouth can't cover. You know all his favorite tricks, and you're putting each one to use right now.

Leon runs a hand through his hair, a bit of sweat beginning to break out across his forehead. His eyes flutter, and he closes them as if that would make it easier to stave off the impending explosion of ecstasy. A soft grunt comes from him, one he's hoping isn't loud enough to raise suspicion.

"What? Yeah, she's home right now... I don't know where she is. She's... doing something around here," he responds to Chris asking about you.

A laugh rumbles through the phone. Chris says something along the lines of "you're something else."

"What?" Leon defends, "I swear I'm listening I just-"

He has to stop talking then and there. If he kept going, his words would've morphed into one of the most humiliating whines heard by him, you, and Chris. He couldn't have that. When he recovers, his next words come rushing out.

"I just gotta call you back. Give me about an hour," he says, not waiting for a reply before clapping the phone shut.

His hips buck upwards, and both of his hands land on your head, making you take all of it. You gag a little, but he doesn't lighten up.

"No, no, baby. You wanted daddy so bad. You're gonna take all of me now. No whining," he chides through a clenched jaw.

Your eyes water. You tough it out though and let him fuck your throat till you feel that familiar pulse on your tongue. He lets go down your throat, spilling himself into the warmth of your mouth with a groan. His body slumps into the chair as he rides it out. Only when he's done does he finally let you go.

You pull back and recede onto your haunches, catching your breath. As air refills your lungs, things seem clearer. The moment of relief only lasts a short while though. Seconds later your being pulled up and slung across his lap.

A pout graces your lips as you look up at him.

"Ah ah. Don't look at me like that. What'd I tell you?" he says, already rubbing your ass in preparation for the spanking you're about to get.

"But you didn't get in trouble!" you protest.

"You didn't know that when you pulled that stunt though, so you still are," he teases before landing a firm swat on your ass.

The first of many to come.

[kkoga]

Pretty eyes, jeung yoonchae x IVE!fem!reader

A/N : this is my own little valentine special, so sorry it's a bit late. Had to work my ass off for the collab, and js so yk i also have a dani angst fic in the works so def watch out for that one

Warning ! Mentions of homophobia, foul words, definitely NOT proofread

Disclaimer ! Everything written is pure fiction. No person is an accurate representation of themselves.

Now playing ! Pretty eyes by zehdi

Wc — i don't know ok. I pulled this out my ass. Its not even valentines anymore. It was supposed to be a val special. Watch me jump off the cliff.

Divider creds : @steviebbboi

Yoonchae hesitantly holds hands with Y/n. Even though they were holding hands below the table, it was still incredibly risky. Considering the fact that both girls were idols, and from different groups no less, would completely destroy their career.

Yoonchae hated this. The korean hated the hiding, the concealing. She wants to show off her girlfriend to the world, to shout and tell them the one and only person she loved was none other than Y/n L/n.

But the Korean knew she had no choice. Gay people were gravely frowned upon in Korea. The girl doesn't even know whether or not her own parents would support her.

Y/n was even more popular than Yoonchae. The girl was a member of the famous girlgroup IVE, a group every junior admired.

The two had initially met at an award show. Y/n, ever so confident, approached the Korean first. Yoonchae was incredibly shy at first, thinking, "There is no way Y/n of IVE is talking to me right now."

But after a couple weeks, the two girls had grown close. Too close, for Yoonchae's liking. After a few months, Yoonchae noticed her heartbeat was too fast around the girl, her words almost always getting jumbled up whenever within the vicinity of her bestfriend. It was pathetic, really. Y/n never let's her live it down.

Yoonchae had a feeling she knew why she felt that way, but growing up in a traditional house, the girl tried convincing herself it wasn't true. She had nothing against gay people of course, but the internalised homophobia the Korean had to grow up with was starting to hit her hard.

Yoonchae ran to an old friend for help, who had calmly asked her two questions.

"Alright, let me ask you two questions. Would the world end if you came out as gay?" Yoonchae was weirded out by the question.

"What? That doesn't even make sense.." Her friend sighed.

"I didn't mean it literally, Yoons. I meant would it feel like your world was ending?" Yoonchae almost immediately answered.

"But my— my parents wouldn't... and the public, good god, my fans. I can't be—" Her friend then interrupted her.

"Now imagine Y/n with someone else. Someone who most definitely isn't you. Would you be able to bear that? Does that seem like it's worse than your world 'ending'?" Yoonchae paused, her expression filled with every negative emotion possible. Anger, sadness, and confusion were all neatly displayed on her face.

".... yes." Her friend smiled, content with Yoonchae's answer.

"There's your answer."

After the conversation, Yoonchae had taken a day off. To think about herself, and her feelings. It was definitely a big thing to process, the fact that she had apparently never liked men. The Korean had always questioned where the "spark" her friends always mentioned was. But now that she had thought about it, the girl now knew why.

It took a while, but eventually, Yoonchae had finally accepted herself for who she was. However, the Korean still come out to her members. She wasn't ready yet.

But now, after successfully confessing to Y/n and having been together for the past two years, the Korean finally considered herself ready.

And today, she was going to ask Y/n if she would like to meet her members. Not as a friend, but as her partner, as the love of her life.

As Yoonchae got in Y/n's newly acquired car, one she got right after earning her license, the Korean took it as a good time to ask.

"Y/n? Can i ask you something?" The girl was nervous. What if she said no?

"Yes Yoons? What's up?"

"I.. i want to introduce you. To my members, I mean." Y/n was shocked, but excited. Extremely excited.

"Really?"

"Really. I'm ready, Y/n. I want them to know I have a beautiful wonderful girlfriend who takes care of me every single day." Y/n, so enamoured by Yoonchae's braveness, leans over for an excited and cheeky kiss.

"Love you soo much Yoon!"

Yoonchae warmly smiles, "Love you too hun."

It was finally the day. Today, Y/n was going to introduce herself to Yoonchae's members as her girlfriend. Well, not immediately, but eventually.

Yoonchae had carefully planned out the afternoon. First, she would get her members to warm up to Y/n. Then during dinner, finally tell them something— or rather someone she's been keeping a secret for far too long.

Y/n nervously rings the doorbell, adjusting her collar just before Manon, one of Yoonchae's bandmates, answer the door.

"Hey girl so nice to meet you, Yoonchae's friend right?" Y/n nods, and returns Manon's smile.

"Come in girl, she's like in her room right now." Y/n hesitantly walks into the house and is met with Megan and Daniela on the couch, Sophia and Lara apparently in the kitchen, and Yoonchae exiting her room.

"Y/n! Hi! Sorry, I had to grab my switch. Let's play now." Yoonchae shot Y/n a cheeky smile, one she undoubtedly fell for.

"Oh you are going DOWN! Also hi, nice to meet you guys." Megan and Daniela sweetly greet the girl, finding the difference of her demeanour with them and Yoonchae silly.

It has been four hours since you and Yoonchae have started playing on her switch, the game projected on the TV. An hour in, Megan and Lara had joined you and Yoonchae's games of Mario Cart.

Yoonchae couldn't help the warm smile slowly creep up her face. It was nice. Seeing you interact with her members was just so— natural.

Sophia and Lara were peacefully sat on the couch, Manon taking pictures in the corner of the livingroom. It was as if Y/n was already a part of them, a part of their little family. And Yoonchae loved it.

By now, it was already dark outside. Dinnertime was approaching, and Yoonchae had to prepare herself. They liked her so far, nothing bad is gonna happen.

As they all ate on the dinner table, Manon started a conversation.

"I still can't believe you're friends with Y/n from IVE Yoonchae, How did you guys even meet?" The couple looked at each other, a cheeky smile on both their faces.

"Oh, we met because of a common friend. That's all." Manon nodded in response, and Lara looked at Yoonchae and Y/n a little suspiciously.

As they all finished off their food, Yoonchae had very suddenly asked them all to sit on the couch, which confused her members. But they obeyed nonetheless, curious as to what their maknae had to say.

They all lined up on the couch in order, Manon, Daniela, Lara, Megan, and Sophia. While Yoonchae and Y/n stood in front of the five.

"I just wanted to say..." Yoonchae said as she held your hand, doing so in a romantic manner. Lara's eyes shot up, as if saying "I FUCKING KNEW IT!"

"I'm dating Y/n. I like girls. The whole point of today was to get you all to warm up to her." Yoonchae wasn't sure how her members would react, but she was pretty sure at least Megan and Manon were gay, so it wouldn't be that bad.

Barrages of questions were shot from Daniela and Manon's mouth, and Lara asking for her 10 dollars from Megan could be heard too. But all Sophia did was send the couple a warm smile. The leader kindly asked them all to shut the fuck up, and after the rest did as she said, she calmly and proudly told the couple.

"I'm proud. Thank you both for trusting us, and congrats on your relationship. You don't have to give us all the information about your relationship now— you can do that as the night progresses. Let's just enjoy the night, yeah? You should sleep over Y/n." Yoonchae teared up, and Y/n did too, thankful the Katz were accepting.

Yoonchae leaned in to Y/n's ear, and whispered, "Love you." Y/n giggled like a little kid, and gave her a little cheek kiss, which resulted in reactions from the rest of Katseye.

[hamzaheaven]

hey lovely would you be comfortable with writing something about hamzah finding out the reader has a medusa tattoo? like maybe they’re cuddling or something and he sees it and asks her about it xx

a/n: ohhh to anyone reading this with similar experiences im so so so sorry and i give you the biggest hug. ive actually thought of getting a medusa tatt myself so this req really spoke to me !! this imagine is just kind of how i would handle it when brought up, i hope thats okay <33 big hugs to all of you and ily . thank you for the request angel <3

warnings: vague alluding to SA

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

you step out of the shower, his bathroom engulfed in a subtle haze from the heat of the water. the ends of your hair drip with cold droplets, sending shivers down your spine as you quickly dry off, rubbing one of his towels through your hair. the fabric smells like his laundry detergent, a smell that has grown all too familiar with you in the past few weeks. 

mindlessly, you slip on a pair of pyjama shorts, not even paying attention to the ink embedded in the skin of your upper thigh as you do. the fabric of the piece of clothing hides the Medusa tattoo partially, but it has been there for long enough for you to sometimes forget it’s even there at all. 

it was a part of your history, your own way of taking your power back; silent, wordless, a quiet testimony of what you had been through, and how you had refused to let it shape you as a person. 

you finish brushing your teeth before exiting his bathroom, flicking off the light and turning to look at Hamzah. he’s laying on his bed in only his sweatpants, one arm perched behind his head as the other rests on his stomach as he mindlessly scrolls through his phone. quietly, you pad over to the bed, plopping down on the empty space beside him, shivering slightly from the change of temperature from the clammy bathroom to the cold air in his bedroom. he’s quick to put his phone down next to his pillow, sighing as he focuses his gaze on you. he looks tired. 

silently, you lay down on your back, your still damp hair sticking to your shirt, causing you to shiver a little. 

“you cold?” he mumbles, his voice soft and hoarse. he doesn’t await your reply, but simply removes his arm from behind his head, opening his arms for you to crawl into them. you quietly scoot closer. your cold, wet hair drapes across his bare chest, causing him to hiss through his teeth as he wraps his arms around you, shifting in his position to get a little more comfortable. “shit, that’s cold,” he mumbles, mostly to himself as he tugs you closer to him, resting his chin atop your head. 

“sorry,” you mumble humorously, wrapping your arm around his chest and resting your head against the warmth of his chest. you absentmindedly pull one of your legs up and over his legs, your thigh peeking just above the duvet he had previously draped around his waist. the room is basked in a comfortable silence for a moment as his other hand wraps around the cold skin of your semi-exposed thigh, his dark eyes mindlessly traveling down to your leg. gently, he starts tracing the swirls of ink on your skin, gently furrowing his brows together. 

“how long have you had this one?” he quietly asks, gently pulling at the hem of your shorts to reveal the full tattoo, his fingers careful in their movements. 

you look down for a moment, watching his fingers trace the black lines on your thigh rather cluelessly. he knew you had a few tattoos, but he seemed to have never really taken notice of the one on your thigh. for a split second, you felt something you could only describe as ‘caught’; like a child with their hand in the cookie jar. it was a part of your history you didn’t exactly like to revisit, but that’s the whole reason you got the tattoo in the first place; to stop being ashamed, to stop feeling like it’s something you need to hide, to stop feeling like what happened made you less of a person. 

you inhale shortly, plucking at the fabric of the duvet as his fingers continue to trace the lines of your tattoo. “like, two years now, i think,” you quietly mumble, shrugging. 

he tilts his head a little to catch your weary gaze. he can’t help but notice the slight apprehension in your demeanour. “i don’t think i’ve ever seen it on full display,” he comments, semi-jokingly. “well, never paid enough attention, i should say,” he jokes, his tone slightly suggestive. 

you chuckle at his words, unsure whether you should reveal that part of your past to him. you two hadn’t been together for that long, and that part of your history could be a lot to take in, for anyone; let alone a partner. 

he carefully tugs your shorts up a little more to take a better look at it. in the darkness of the room, it’s a little hard to see the details, but he’s quick to catch on, regardless. “medusa… right?” he carefully asks, his dark brown eyes flicking over to catch your gaze. 

you can’t help but avoid his gaze a little, keeping your eyes down as you look at the tattoo yourself, trying to push back the emotions and memories that come with the confrontation of being asked about the tattoo. you nod, unsure whether he knows about why most people get a Medusa tattoo. 

he stays quiet for a moment, seeming to ponder whether or not he should dig a little deeper, knowing how you struggle with being vulnerable like that most of the time. “why did you get it?” he asks, his voice barely above a whisper in the darkness of his bedroom. he carefully places his warm palm on top of the tattoo, as if he already knows the answer. 

you deliberately stay silent for a few seconds, inhaling deeply. “i think you know,” you finally reply, your fingers continuing to anxiously pick at his sheets. 

you feel him inhale deeply underneath you, almost frustratedly. “why didn’t you tell me?” he then asks, his voice gentle and careful, knowing this must be a topic you tend to avoid for a reason. 

tilting your head upwards, you lock eyes with him. his eyes are full of sorrow and worry, breaking your heart a little. you shrug. “it’s not exactly something i enjoy explaining, y’know? that’s kinda why i got the tattoo in the first place,” you quietly explain, “the tattoo can explain it for me.” 

he intently listens to your words, furrowing his eyebrows, nodding. “i’m sorry,” he finally whispers, removing his hand from your thigh and bringing it up to your face, cupping it gently. “i can’t even imagine…” he starts, fumbling over his words a little bit. 

you quickly shake your head, placing your cold hand over his warm one as it rests on your cheek. “stop,” you whisper, a sad smile tugging at my lips as you lock eyes with him. “it’s okay,” you nod, even though the both of you know that it is far from okay. but it has to be, in someway, if you want to live your life in a way that doesn’t and won’t revolve around the violence and tragedy that was forced upon you. 

he pulls his lips into a tight line, shaking his head. “it’s not, though,” he replies, pulling the duvet higher up, so it covers your thigh as it rests atop of his legs. he tightens his arms around you, pressing a kiss against your forehead, sighing. “why didn’t you tell me before?” he finally asks, his eyes opened as he stares at his ceiling, still holding onto you. 

you shrug, tightening my arms around his torso. “it’s not really a great ice-breaker, now, is it?” you sarcastically chuckle, closing your eyes tiredly against his warm skin. 

he stifles a bitter laugh, followed by a sigh. “you know that’s not what i mean,” he mumbles, tilting his head downwards to try and catch your gaze. you keep your eyes closed, though. 

you nod. “i know. it just didn’t seem important. i’m with someone i feel safe with now… all of the other stuff is in the past,” you murmur tiredly, pressing a kiss against his bare chest. 

his hand moves up from your waist to the back of your head, gently tracing his fingertips into your still damp and cold hair, smiling to himself. “okay,” he whispers quietly, pressing another kiss to your head as you fall asleep, his mind still silently racing from the piece of your history you revealed to him tonight.

[churipu]

hii i hope ur midterms r going well !! ive binge read so many of ur work n js wanted to say theyre so amazing (´꒳`) i wanted a request for toji + any other character of ur choice x reader who stays up late n has difficulty sleeping (fluff),, thank u !! 🤍

𝗜𝗧'𝗦 𝗧𝗛𝗥𝗘𝗘 𝗔𝗠 !

────── 𝕴 . featuring. toji fushiguro x reader

────── 𝕴 . warnings. cursing, and mentions of toji being soft, i love him.

note. hi nonnie! thank you so much, you're too nice to me, and yes, my midterms went well! it's been so long since i've done the requests in my inbox, which is the sole reason to why i have closed my ask box so i could finish them all! although, the next time i open them, i won't accept requests for a bit. sorry for those who have visited my inbox and have waited for a long time for your piece to be done. // anyways, new theme = new layout!

"why aren't you in bed?"

toji's voice came out hoarse — he cleared his throat and approached you, sitting himself on the couch despite his heart caressing his ears, pleading for him to go back inside the bedroom and just lay back down on the bed.

the cotton surface of the couch dipped just as he practically threw himself down on it, holding back a loud yawn. you raised a brow, shoving the spoonful of cereal you mixed with milk five minutes ago, just before toji emerged from your shared room.

small yellow chips of cereal that had grown soggy, seeping in the white tasteless liquid dispersed into a mush inside your mouth. they weren't even solid as they're supposed to be, "can't sleep, you?"

"you weren't there."

old habits die hard. that's how the saying goes, and you undeniably agreed to that. the night is an old friend to you, never did your eyelids felt heavy when you were supposed to be in bed, asleep. it's not healthy, you're killing yourself doing this.

"you're such a baby," you mutter out, staring into space, feeling your eyes slowly dissociate — jaw moving in a slow motion, biting into wet and mush before you swallow them.

"y/n, it's three am, y' can't keep doing this stuff," toji scratches his nape, leaning his head back onto the couch rest.

despite your eyes staring into nothing, you could hear his words pretty well. in fact, toji had repeated the same words countless of times that you found yourself engraving it into your mind, "i know, i can't sleep. i know it's not healthy, if i could stop it, i would."

"you're scooping nothing, y/n."

this time, his statement pulled you back into reality. looking down to see that you were indeed scooping no soggy cereal chip, nor a drop of milk onto your spoon. chuckling out lightly, you stood up and sauntered over to the kitchen, dumping what was left of your cereal pieces into the sink.

"you should go to bed," you tell him, wiping your wet hands onto your shirt — crumpling up the fabric to soak them in the access waterdrops lacing your fingers, "'ts late."

toji scoffs lightly, "shouldn't i be saying that shit to you?"

no mistakes there. you emitted out a soft sigh, "i'm fine, i'll be back in bed in a few . . ." toji raises a brow skeptically. he never forgot the last time you said that, he woke up alone on the bed — and you were wide awake on the couch, watching the morning news.

"hell no. it's two of us or nobody goes back to bed, 'm not kidding." he mutters out, not realizing how harsh his voice came out as.

brows furrowed deeply, he looks at you. your disheveled (h/c) hair going all point in a compass points, the visible dark shade of exhaustion coloring under your eyes — and the light creases on the corner of your beautiful, tired eyes.

"can you not?" you mutter, pinching the bridge of your nose; honestly, you can't blame him at all, he's just a worried boyfriend and you were being stubborn.

"can i not what? worry about my own—" he stops mid sentence and shakes his head. toji was never a man of words, he doesn't express his affection to you through words. he's had moments, not a lot, but he's had them.

toji's a man of actions. he thinks that words mean nothing, which you knew, "'m tired, but i can't sleep, okay? i'll just hang out here a few more minutes and i'll come back to bed. you don't have to stay awake just because 'm awake."

"just shut up."

you stare at him, surprised. parting your lips, you try to speak again but toji beats you to it.

"can't i worry about you or something? you're my partner," he said, his then exhausted eyes now fully refreshed. a tinge of frustration coloring his greenish iris.

your eyes darted around for a bit, searching for words to spout out as a reply, "you don't have to worry about me, 'm fine. i promise. so, can you please just go to bed and stop worrying about me?"

"fuck that," he stands up, with heavy footsteps he darted towards you.

his figure grew in your view as he closes the distance between you and him. with a quick motion, he threw you over his shoulder, letting you dangle over his shoulder. at this point, you were too exhausted to even move a limb so you just laid there, not having the cell to even open your mouth.

toji walks over to the bedroom and he sat you down gently on the bed. on most occasions, he would throw you onto the bed playfully — but this was serious. he's pissed, and you're pissed.

"sleep."

you crane your neck upwards, face scrunching into one of annoyance, "i just told you that i can't—"

"try."

shaking your head, you said, "i can't, i've tried."

his finger brushed over your hair, smoothing them back down. he didn't reply to you. frankly, he finds it hard to be in the current position — as a kid, he was taught to never show his weakness. he grew up in a household full of so much hate that he forgot what love is.

here you were. vulnerable, in a weak state that toji has seen a lot before throughout your relationship. if this was anyone else, toji swore he'd tell them to suck it up because life isn't always what they think it ought to be.

but this isn't anyone else, it's you. y/n. the only person toji has showed his own vulnerable sides to — it's like a punch to his gut when he saw a bit of his younger self in you. he had nobody, and nobody had him.

it's different this time, it's not about him anymore. it's about you. you had him, and he had you.

toji inhaled sharply, his large hands slipping underneath your pits as he gently pushes you up. your feet dangled as he then pulled you into him, his right hand traveled onto the hollow of your back — and his left hand prepped your legs around his torso.

you felt like a child, "what're you doing?"

"shut up," he mutters out into the crook of your neck, "just try to get some sleep."

he pressed his lips onto your skin tenderly, making you shudder at the sudden contact — but you liked it. toji didn't stop, with an arm around your waist, and another under your thighs, he held you close to him.

warm and shallow breaths blew onto your skin like warm lights, it didn't tickle, you bury your head into the crook of his neck. copying his actions, "'m sorry."

toji grunted, "for?"

"just . . . everything," you murmur out.

his grip around your waist tightened, "'ts not somethin' to be sorry of, you can't control it. so just try and get some sleep," he muttered out, rocking side to side gently.

a faint smile appeared on your lips as you pulled your head back slightly, "you're too nice to me."

"don't get used to it," toji rolled his eyes.

"i love you too," you planted a kiss onto his lips briefly before returning your head into the crook of his neck, letting him lull you to sleep for the night.

© CHURIPU 2024 , DO NOT COPY OR REPOST ANYWHERE.

[archivegyu]

masterlist

party on me

ive been listening to party 4 u by charli xcx for a week straight and i have been creating scenarios in my head how would this look like for a short story, hope yall like it!

The bass from her bluetooth speaker thrummed through the walls of her apartment, each beat synchronized with the pulse hammering against her temples. She pressed her back against the bathroom door, the cool wood against her spine as she tried to steady her breathing. Through the window, city lights cast everything in amber and white, filtering through the blinds she’d carefully chosen to match her living room curtains.

The realization hit her with brutal clarity: she had thrown this entire party for him, and now she was hiding in the bathroom while her relationship died. Every detail had been planned with Mingyu in mind—his favorite craft beer in the fridge, the playlist featuring that indie band he’d introduced her to last summer, even timing it around his weekend off from the bookstore. All of it a desperate attempt to recreate the magic they’d lost somewhere along the way.

Because it was ending. Had been ending for weeks now, maybe months, in that slow, agonizing way that relationships died when both people were too afraid to admit it out loud. The conversations that used to flow for hours now punctuated by uncomfortable silences. The casual touches that had once felt natural now awkward and forced. The way he looked at her sometimes, like he was trying to remember why he’d fallen in love with her in the first place.

The party beyond the door was in full swing, laughter mixing with music in the familiar chaos she’d grown to love. She could hear Seokmin’s distinctive giggle—he was probably telling his kindergarten students’ latest antics to whoever would listen. His stories about five-year-olds saying inappropriate things never got old, especially when he acted out all the voices. Someone was trying to explain the rules of a drinking game, Soonyoung’s voice animated with the kind of enthusiasm that only came after two beers. As a dance instructor, he had an infectious energy that made even the most mundane activities feel like performances.

These people had become her chosen family over the past three years. Wonwoo, the librarian who recommended books based on people’s personalities rather than their stated preferences. Jeonghan, who worked at the upscale salon downtown and somehow made everyone feel beautiful just by existing in their vicinity. Joshua, the coffee shop owner who remembered not just everyone’s orders but their life stories, their heartbreaks, their small victories. Seungcheol, the personal trainer who had appointed himself the group’s unofficial big brother and took the role seriously enough to check on everyone’s mental health as obsessively as their physical fitness.

But tonight felt different. Tonight, every laugh seemed to highlight her isolation, every moment of joy a reminder of what she was about to lose.

The door handle turned behind her, and she stumbled forward as someone pushed into the bathroom. She spun around, heart lurching, and found herself face-to-face with Mingyu.

He looked exhausted. The kind of bone-deep tiredness that came from working extra shifts to pay for graduate school while maintaining a social life he was increasingly checked out of. His hair was disheveled from the warm apartment, and he’d rolled up the sleeves of the navy shirt she’d bought him for Christmas—back when buying him clothes felt natural instead of presumptuous.

“Oh.” His eyes widened when he saw her pressed against the sink. “Sorry, I didn’t realize—are you okay?”

There it was. The careful concern that had replaced easy intimacy. The polite worry of someone who cared but from a distance, like watching someone drown from the shore.

“I’m fine,” she managed, though her voice came out rougher than intended. “Just needed a moment.”

He closed the door behind him, and suddenly the small bathroom felt impossibly cramped. She could smell his cologne—not expensive, but familiar, woven into three years of shared mornings and lazy Sunday afternoons.

“You’ve been hiding in here for twenty minutes,” he said gently. “That’s not fine.”

Twenty minutes. Had it really been that long? She’d lost track of time somewhere between the third text from her mother asking how the party was going and the moment she’d caught sight of herself in the mirror, looking like someone playing dress-up in her own life.

“I’m just tired,” she said, but they both knew it was more than that.

Mingyu leaned against the door, studying her face with the intensity that had once made her feel seen and now made her want to disappear. “We need to talk.”

Those four words. The death knell of relationships everywhere.

“Do we?” She tried to inject some lightness into her voice, but it fell flat.

“You know we do.” His voice was soft, careful. “We’ve been dancing around this for weeks.”

The honesty of it was devastating. Not because it was cruel��Mingyu was never cruel—but because it was true. They had been dancing around the end, both too afraid to take the final step.

“I don’t want to do this here,” she whispered, gesturing vaguely toward the door where their friends’ laughter filtered through.

“Where else? You’ve been avoiding me everywhere else.”

Had she been avoiding him? Maybe. It was hard to tell the difference between avoiding someone and simply having nothing left to say to them.

“I haven’t been—”

“You have.” There was no accusation in his voice, just tired resignation. “And I get it. I’ve been doing the same thing.”

The admission hung between them like a bridge neither wanted to cross.

“So what now?” she asked.

“I think we both know what now.”

She did know. Had known for weeks, maybe months. But hearing him acknowledge it felt like watching the last domino fall in a chain reaction that had started long before tonight.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he continued, and the gentleness in his voice made her chest ache. “But I think we’re already hurting each other by pretending this is still working.”

“It could work,” she said, the words escaping before she could stop them. “We could try—”

“We have been trying.” His smile was sad, fond, final. “God, we’ve been trying so hard. But trying isn’t the same as wanting, is it?”

The question hit her like a physical blow because he was right. Somewhere along the way, their relationship had become work instead of joy, obligation instead of choice. They’d been so busy trying to recapture what they’d had that they’d forgotten to ask if they still wanted it.

“I love you,” she said, because it was true, even if it wasn’t enough.

“I know. I love you too.” He ran a hand through his hair, messing it further. “But love isn’t always enough, is it? Sometimes two people can love each other and still be wrong for each other.”

The worst part was how reasonable he sounded. How mature and thoughtful and completely, devastatingly right.

“So we just… what? Give up?”

“We let go,” he corrected gently. “There’s a difference.”

Outside the door, someone had started a karaoke session. She could hear Vernon’s surprisingly good voice tackling something by The Weeknd, probably with Minghao providing backup vocals. The sound of her friends having fun felt surreal, like a soundtrack to the end of the world.

“What about everyone?” she asked, gesturing toward the door. “The group?”

“We figure it out. We’re adults.” He paused. “We can be friends, can’t we? Eventually?”

Friends. The word that every ex-couple clung to like a life raft, as if friendship could somehow cushion the fall from intimacy to nothing.

“Yeah,” she said, because what else could she say? “Eventually.”

The silence stretched between them, three years of history compressed into this cramped bathroom moment. She thought about their first date, how nervous he’d been, how he’d spilled coffee on his shirt and she’d found it endearing rather than embarrassing. Thought about the first time he’d stayed over, how natural it had felt to wake up next to him. Thought about all the small moments that had built up to this larger one, the accumulation of daily choices that had somehow led them here.

“I should get back,” Mingyu said finally. “People will start wondering.”

She nodded, not trusting her voice.

He paused at the door, hand on the handle. “For what it’s worth, you threw a good party. Everyone’s having fun.”

The kindness of the comment—his instinct to comfort her even now—made her want to break something.

After he left, she stood alone in the bathroom, staring at herself in the mirror. Her makeup was still intact, her hair still styled the way Jeonghan had taught her. She looked like someone who should be enjoying her own party, not someone whose relationship had just ended in a bathroom conversation that lasted less than ten minutes.

When she finally emerged, the party was in full swing. Someone had moved the coffee table to create a makeshift dance floor, and Hoshi was attempting to teach everyone choreography to a song she didn’t recognize. Seungcheol was in the kitchen, probably making sure everyone was drinking water and eating enough to avoid hangovers. Joshua and Jeonghan were deep in conversation on her couch, their heads bent together in the way that suggested either gossip or philosophy.

She spotted Mingyu by the window, talking to Wonwoo about something that required animated hand gestures. He looked lighter somehow, like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. The thought should have hurt, but instead she felt oddly proud of him. At least one of them was handling this with grace.

“There she is.” A warm voice beside her made her turn. Jihoon stood there with two drinks, offering her one with a small smile. “You looked like you needed this.”

Jihoon. Quiet, observant Jihoon who worked as a music producer and somehow always knew exactly what people needed to hear. He was the one who remembered birthdays without Facebook reminders, who showed up with soup when people were sick, who listened more than he spoke and somehow made everyone feel understood.

“Thanks,” she said, accepting the drink. It was exactly what she would have made for herself—vodka and cranberry with just enough lime to cut the sweetness.

“Rough night?” he asked, and something in his tone suggested he already knew the answer.

“You could say that.”

They stood in comfortable silence, watching their friends laugh and dance and exist in the uncomplicated way she envied. Jihoon had always been easy to be around—no pressure to perform or pretend, just steady presence when she needed it most.

“For what it’s worth,” he said quietly, “I think you’re handling this really well.”

She looked at him sharply. “Handling what?”

“Whatever happened in the bathroom.” His smile was gentle, understanding. “Walls are thin, and I was getting ice from the kitchen. I didn’t hear details, just… tone.”

Heat flooded her cheeks. “Oh god.”

“Hey, no judgment. These things happen.” He paused, seeming to weigh his words carefully. “And for what it’s worth, I think Mingyu’s an idiot.”

The comment surprised her. Jihoon never spoke ill of anyone, certainly never about relationship drama he wasn’t directly involved in.

“He’s not an idiot,” she said automatically. “We just… we weren’t working anymore.”

“Maybe. Or maybe he’s too comfortable taking good things for granted.”

There was something in his voice, an edge she’d never heard before. She studied his profile as he watched the party, noting the tension in his jaw, the way his fingers gripped his drink just a little too tightly.

“Jihoon…”

“I should have said something sooner,” he continued, as if she hadn’t spoken. “Should have told you that you deserve someone who doesn’t have to try so hard to want you.”

The words hit her like a physical blow, not because they were harsh but because they were exactly what she’d been afraid to think herself.

“What are you saying?”

He turned to face her fully, and she saw something in his eyes she’d never noticed before. Or maybe she had noticed but had trained herself not to see it, had filed it away under friendship and loyalty and the unspoken rules about not crossing certain lines.

“I’m saying that some of us have been watching you throw yourself into a relationship that was making you smaller instead of bigger. Some of us have been biting our tongues for months, watching you dim your own light to make someone else comfortable.”

“Some of us?”

“Me.” The honesty in his voice was startling. “I’ve been watching you, caring about you, wanting to tell you that you deserve better. But I couldn’t, because you were with him, and I’m not the kind of person who interferes.”

The confession hung between them, loaded with implications she wasn��t sure she was ready to unpack.

“Jihoon—”

“I’m not telling you this to complicate things,” he said quickly. “I know tonight is already complicated enough. I’m telling you because I want you to know that you’re not alone. That someone sees you, really sees you, not just the version of yourself you think you need to be.”

Across the room, she could see Mingyu laughing at something Seokmin had said, his whole body relaxed in a way it hadn’t been around her in months. The sight should have hurt, but instead she felt something like relief. Maybe they really had been making each other smaller.

“How long?” she asked quietly.

“How long what?”

“How long have you felt… whatever this is?”

Jihoon was quiet for so long she thought he might not answer. When he finally spoke, his voice was barely above a whisper.

“Remember last year? That night we all went to the night market and it started raining?”

She remembered. They’d all run for cover under different stalls, and somehow she and Jihoon had ended up pressed together under a narrow awning, watching the others shriek and laugh as they got soaked. Mingyu had been across the street, huddled with Wonwoo under a food cart’s umbrella, and for those few minutes it had just been her and Jihoon, talking quietly while the rain pounded around them.

“You were telling me about that book you’d read,” he continued. “Something about the difference between loving someone and being in love with them. And you had this look on your face, like you were working through something important, and I realized I wanted to be the person you worked through things with. Not just sometimes, but always.”

The memory hit her with unexpected force. She remembered that conversation, remembered the way Jihoon had listened with his whole attention, had asked questions that made her think deeper about what she was saying. She remembered feeling understood in a way that was both thrilling and terrifying.

“But you were with Mingyu,” he said simply. “And I’m not the kind of person who tries to steal someone else’s happiness.”

“What if it wasn’t happiness?” The question slipped out before she could stop it. “What if it was just… habit?”

“Then that’s something you would have had to figure out on your own.” His smile was sad but genuine. “Which you did.”

Around them, the party continued its familiar rhythm. Someone had switched the music to something slower, more atmospheric, and people were starting to pair off into smaller conversations. She could see Seungcheol and Vernon engaged in what looked like a serious discussion about workout routines, while Jeonghan was showing Minghao something on his phone that was making them both laugh.

“What happens now?” she asked.

“Now you take time to figure out who you are when you’re not trying to be half of something else,” Jihoon said. “And when you’re ready—if you’re ever ready—maybe we see what this could be.”

The offer was gentle, patient, free from pressure or expectation. So different from the urgency that had characterized the end of her relationship with Mingyu, the sense that they were both racing against time to fix something that might have been broken from the start.

“And if I’m never ready?”

“Then we stay friends, and I’ll be grateful for that.” He touched her arm briefly, a whisper of contact that somehow conveyed more warmth than months of Mingyu’s careful touches. “I’m not going anywhere.”

The simple promise undid something in her chest, some knot of tension she’d been carrying for so long she’d forgotten it was there.

“I don’t know how to do this,” she admitted. “How to be alone again.”

“You’re not alone,” Jihoon said firmly. “Look around. You’re surrounded by people who care about you. People who want to see you happy, not just comfortable.”

She did look around, really look, and saw what he meant. Seokmin catching her eye from across the room and waving with genuine affection. Joshua raising his drink in a small toast when he noticed her watching. Even Mingyu, glancing over with concern when he saw her serious expression, because despite everything, he did care about her wellbeing.

“Besides,” Jihoon added with a small smile, “you threw a hell of a party. That’s not the action of someone who doesn’t know how to take care of herself.”

For the first time all night, she laughed. Really laughed, not the polite social sound she’d been making all evening but something genuine and surprised.

“I did throw a good party, didn’t I?”

“The best. Even if you did spend half of it hiding in the bathroom.”

“Only a quarter of it,” she protested, and he laughed too, the sound low and warm and entirely different from Mingyu’s bright, performative laughter.

The party was starting to wind down around them. A few people had already left—Vernon and Minghao, who both had early morning commitments, and Seungcheol, who maintained a strict sleep schedule even on weekends. The remaining guests were settling into the comfortable, slightly drunk phase of the evening where conversations got deeper and inhibitions got lower.

“I should probably play hostess,” she said, though she made no move to leave Jihoon’s side.

“Should you? Or should you let yourself just be a person at a party instead of the person throwing the party?”

The distinction was small but significant. She’d been so focused on making sure everyone else was having a good time that she’d forgotten to consider whether she was enjoying herself.

“When did you get so wise?” she asked.

“I’ve always been wise. You just never noticed because you were busy being in love with someone else.”

The comment could have been bitter, but his tone was light, teasing even. Like he was genuinely happy for the chance to finally be honest, regardless of the outcome.

“Jihoon?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you. For waiting. For not making this more complicated than it already was.”

“Thank you for being worth waiting for.”

The words settled over her like a warm blanket, comforting in a way she hadn’t felt in months. Not the desperate comfort of trying to fix something broken, but the solid comfort of being seen and accepted exactly as she was.

Across the room, she caught sight of Mingyu getting ready to leave. He was saying goodbye to everyone, collecting his jacket from the back of her chair, moving through the familiar ritual of departure. When he reached her, he paused.

“Great party,” he said, and his smile was genuine, if careful. “Thank you for… everything.”

“Thank you too,” she said, and meant it.

There was a moment of awkwardness—should they hug? shake hands? pretend this was normal?—before Jihoon smoothly stepped forward.

“I’ll walk you out,” he offered to Mingyu, and she realized he was giving them space for a final goodbye while also ensuring it didn’t drag on too long.

“Take care of yourself,” Mingyu said to her, and there was real affection in his voice. “I mean it.”

“You too.”

And then he was gone, walking out of her apartment and her life as her boyfriend, leaving behind only the echo of three years and the promise that they would figure out how to be friends.

The remaining guests began the natural process of winding down. Jeonghan and Joshua were helping with the last of the dishes, their conversation flowing easily around topics that had nothing to do with breakups or endings. Seokmin was telling Soonyoung about a new dance class he wanted to try, their voices animated despite the late hour.

Jihoon returned from walking Mingyu out, sliding back to her side without fanfare.

“How do you feel?” he asked quietly.

She considered the question seriously. How did she feel? Sad, certainly. Relieved, surprisingly. Scared about the future, but also curious about it in a way she hadn’t been in months.

“Different,” she said finally. “Like I’ve been holding my breath for a long time and finally remembered how to exhale.”

“That’s a good start.”

The last guests began making their departure noises—gathering phones and keys, calling cars, making plans for next weekend. Soon it would just be her and the aftermath of the party, the evidence of a night that had changed everything.

“I should stay and help clean up,” Jihoon said, but it was a question rather than a statement.

“You don’t have to—”

“I want to.”

The simple declaration reminded her of what he’d said earlier about wanting versus trying. How long had it been since someone had wanted to take care of her without it feeling like an obligation?

“Okay,” she said. “I’d like that.”

As their friends said their goodbyes—promises to text when they got home safely, reminders about plans for the following weekend, the usual affectionate chaos of a group that genuinely cared about each other—she felt something settle into place. Not love, not yet, maybe not ever with Jihoon specifically. But possibility. The chance to rediscover who she was when she wasn’t trying so hard to be what someone else needed.

“So,” Jihoon said when the door closed behind the last guest, leaving them alone with the remnants of the party. “Where do we start?”

She looked around at the scattered glasses, the furniture pushed out of place, the general detritus of a night well-lived. Then she looked at him—patient, kind, willing to stay when he could have left, willing to wait when he could have pushed.

“With the dishes, I guess,” she said. “And then we see what happens next.”

It wasn’t a declaration of love or a promise of forever. It was just the next small step in a life that was suddenly full of possibility again. And for the first time in months, that felt like enough.

[flowercrownsandherondales]

Against the Odds Pt. 4

We’re slowly but surely getting to something that isn’t heartbreaking. Hope you enjoy!

IV: I can’t handle change

I knocked on his door three times. Gentle little raps, trying not to be too loud in case of-he doesn’t have any neighbors, remember? 

When the door didn’t swing open after three, my patience started to wear. Gentle raps became fist banging, sounding like a peacekeeper coming to arrest someone for contraband. A yell sounded from inside the house, glass bottles rolling and a heavy thumping closer and closer to the door. Finally, it swung open revealing the man in question in all his morning glory. 

I couldn’t tear my eyes away from his chest. He had lost most of his youthful stature, starting to fill out around his midsection from all the alcohol, but not completely at a beer belly yet. He just looked thicker, chest hair mottling here and there. His flannel pajama pants were slung low on his hips, a bit of hair traveling from his navel. Finally my eyes caught on his scar, slashed across his abdomen in a deep silver. A physical reminder of what it cost to play the games. 

His hair hadn’t completely grown to his shoulders, but it was on its way there. He huffed, running a hand through it while his other came up to rest on the doorframe. 

“You planning on standing there and staring at me all day?” His eyes narrowed, still lined with sleep. I took a deep breath, shaking my head and motioning to the cleaning supplies in my hands. 

“Maybe throw on a shirt and wake up at a reasonable time if you know you have company coming.” I retorted, shoving past him to get inside. 

He followed, slamming the door shut with his foot. “You typically barge into people’s houses, or I am just special?” I huffed a laugh, setting my supplies on the floor. 

The house was nothing short of a disaster zone. Glass bottles were strewn on the floor, a heavy layer of dust on every surface in sight, windows smeared with age, and the area where they phone would have been was gutted, pulled with force and absolute rage. 

“What’d that phone do to you?” I asked, watching all the ego he had a moment ago deflate a little.  He just huffed, going to the kitchen to no doubt grab a drink. 

I took out my supplies, popping open a trashbag to start picking up the bottles rolling around me. I felt Haymitch’s eyes on me from the other room, leaned against his kitchen counter taking sips straight from the bottle. 

The next hour was filled with sweeping, dusting, wiping down and mopping. I worked quickly, used to people in the merchant village shooing me out before customers came in. Haymitch stood in the kitchen for a while before I pushed him out and sat him on the couch, telling him to lift his feet here and there as I mopped under him. His eyes always followed me, as if he was trying to decode every movement I made, waiting for me to break like a bottle on the floor. 

My mind tuned out when I was cleaning. When I first started finding work, I noticed that the heaviness lifted a little when I was focused. Wyatt’s name wasn’t on the tip of my tongue, but had moved to my throat. I didn’t see him standing beside me, as if he knew this was my time and he could ease up and let me be for a while. I would go home exhausted, kissing Wylie on the head as he slept, looking up to see Wyatt standing above him, running a hand through our son's hair. He didn’t speak often, quiet and steady as I raised his boy. In the quiet of the night, when I was tossing and turning he would whisper how much he loved me, how sorry he was to not be here, how great of a mother I was. Then I would wake to do it all again. 

I looked back to Haymitch, who’s eyes had turned focus to the spot next to him on the couch. I stopped what I was doing, putting the broom down gently to not disturb him. His mouth was moving, as if he was whispering something to the empty space. I couldn’t make out what he was saying, just that he looked devastated and haunted. 

I was hardened now. I could feel it from the minute Wiley was called into the arena, my heart twisted into some kind of wicked thorny bush. 

“Who do you see?” His head snapped to me, eyes widening before hardening themselves. 

“No one. Everyone. Fuck off.” He grumbled, harshly getting up and snatching the bottle on the coffee table. He stomped to the kitchen again, grabbing the pot on the stove and harshly pouring hours old coffee into a cup. He popped the cap off his liquor bottle, decimating the coffee with it. 

“You should eat something.” I muttered behind him. A mother’s instinct that would never go away.

He took a slow sip of the coffee alcohol mixture before meeting my gaze. 

“Don’t you wanna ask?” he said slowly. Ask about Wyatt. Ask about Wylie. 

It’s all I had wanted before, but that felt like another lifetime. They were dead. I was here. Did I really want to know more than that? 

“I saw my son die on national television. I saw Wyatt die on national television. I know what happened.” Surprise bloomed on his face at that, breaking our eye contact and staring down at his feet. 

“What I really want is for you to keep your house clean and eat a full meal.” At that he smirked, leaning back on the counter like earlier, opting for the egotistical jackass I’d seen on TV. 

“Isn’t that why I have you, sweet pea?” I wanted to beat the smirk right off his face. Instead I rummaged through his fridge, sighing at the lack of food. I spotted butter, eggs, a small bit of milk in there, then moved to the pantry to find flour and cornmeal. I could only guess how old the pantry items were, blowing dust off the top in a puff. 

“Sit your ass down and don’t move.” I warned, rummaging for a bowl, baking tin and a spatula. He grunted again, flopping down at the dinner table and lazily moving his fingers in the crack of sunlight slipping through. 

35 minutes later we had cornbread steaming in front of us. 

It was awkward. Uncomfortable silence stretched between us as we ate. He cleared his throat, breaking the silence first. 

“This is good. He said you made the best cornbread. Didn’t really believe him, only culinary skills you ever showed were making potions outta mud, sticks and leaves.” Crumbs spit out when he spoke, mouth full of the golden buttery bread. 

I let out an emotionless laugh. “Well I couldn’t feed a growing boy and my ageing ma on dirt soup.” Haymitch barely let a smile show at that, stuffing more food in his face. 

He stopped chewing, swallowing thickly before his face turned serious. 

“Seriously though. I didn’t know you and Wyatt were a thing, not until we got on the train.” I stopped in my tracks, sheepishly meeting his gaze. 

“Did you want a formal announcement?” I countered, leaning in on my forearms as if we were playing a game of chess. 

“We used to be kind of close, Y/N. I just figured it was something you’d mention when we walked Sid and Louella to school.” He grimaced when saying their names, still grieving over his brother and that spitfire little girl. 

I shrugged, taking another bite. “Never came up.” he nodded and we left it at that. 

“Why’d you trash your house?” his face reddened at that, eyes shifting anywhere but mine. 

“Not like anyone comes for a visit. Not really mine anyways, never was.” It was the Capitol’s house. He was just a ghost who haunted it. 

“Now I do. Try and keep it semi-clean, yeah?” He snorted, “Isn’t that what I pay you to do?” 

“Yeah but I have a bad back and I’d rather not gag everytime I walk through the door.” A real smile spread across his lips, his eyebrow raising. He did a mock salute.

“I’ll do my best Miss Callow.” 

“Miss Y/LN. Not Callow.” I corrected. I never married Wyatt, never did the hand-fasting ceremony dressed in white. As if I would have been allowed to wear white, our son holding the rings would have ruined that one. 

Haymitch got up, gathering our plates and taking them to the sink. I settled into my seat, looking out through the window and seeing the sun setting. The heaviness I carried settled into my heart, weighing down my limbs and mind. I had gotten through the third day without my boy. I had somehow survived. 

A cup being placed in front of me took my focus back. Haymitch poured me a drink, nudging it closer to my hands. I tentatively took a sip, the liquor wasn’t the usual white stuff from the hob that knocked your breath back. This was dark, smooth, and tasted faintly like oak. This was the good shit I could only imagine came from the Capitol. 

“Got it from the train. Figured you could use a drink.” he explained, knocking his own glass back. I gave him what little smile I could muster, which looked more like a wince. 

We stayed like that for the next few hours, not speaking, just chasing the bottle and chasing our ghosts. Eventually I would stumble home, only to come back the next day and do it all again. 

[gumballofshame]

Only For Coffee 

Bucky x reader

Word Count: 4.2k

Warnings: ...I got sad so you will too...brief mention of hydra + related happenings

Author’s Note: Long time reader, first time writer. My goal is for no one to read this actually, I just really got into my feelings and desperately needed to share how I was doing. Yeah, well - here ya go. Honestly, if anyone does read this I do love you xo ps if the formatting is wrong, im sorry ive never done this

Song: Coffee by Chappell Roan

Four months. The hardest four months at that. His smile, his touch, his hand against my skin. How time can fly when you’re drowning your sorrows in the depths of your empty bedroom. At some point your days blend together, you ignore the calls coming from your phone, or the ting from your phone interrupting the silence you’ve created. All you can think is him. Him. Him.

 What could I have done so incorrectly to lead to the present? Had I pushed him past his breaking point? Had he pushed me past mine? 

The emptiness forming around you grows thicker and more pronounced as you wait for the time to pass against you.

You think and think, how can one man control all your thoughts and emotions without saying a single word in your direction? Being around him in meetings and missions was fine, you could be a professional. You were trained to push your emotions aside and focus on important tasks. 

The difficult part was always when you both were alone in the middle of the night. Nightmares repeating day after day, causing the both of you to make your way into the open space of the kitchen. Searching for something to drown out the memories and the fear. If the pain from the distance grown between the both of you wasn’t strong enough, the unspoken words would’ve pooled out of every crevice known. Yet, there he sits. Pushed against the island. He just sits and stares. To an untrained eye, one would think aloud how he can fall asleep with his eyes open, staring at nothing. To you? You knew the stare. You knew the pain and the torture behind the stare. How could you not? You have lived the same story. The same fear, the same torture–you matched him and he matched you. 

As you enter the common space off the elevator, months of pent up emotions and anguish swim the space lying between you and him as they do every time you catch each other in the early hours. Would today be the day either of you speak? Not one word has been spoken between the two of you in months, could today be the day? You slowly make your way over towards the kitchen area searching for a usable glass to fill with water. You pause as you watch Bucky slowly take breaths and stare into the open space.

Deciding against the trouble of a glass, you reach into the fridge to gather a bottle of water along with an easy snack. You feel the energy shift around the room as a pair of eyes burrow into the side of your head. He is always there. Just staring. It’s all he has become accustomed to do. Stare, gather, and analyze. At the end of it all, you would only be a crucial piece of data storming the eyes of the previous Winter Soldier. You can’t escape the coolness behind his emotionless eyeline. To be in love is one thing, to be in love with a man who can’t love you but rather analyze you is another.

You turn your body to face him, pain stretched across your face as you attempt to understand. You stare back. No thoughts, just him and the space he consumed. The whole world melts away as you scan between his eyes, searching for the person who once told you they love you. He isn’t there. He’s not on vacation, not taking a sabbatical. There isn’t any evidence the man you thought you knew had ever taken ownership behind his eyes. In the quiet room in the odd hours of the night there just sits two people, history and pain etched into the surface of the counter between them as they stare. Two souls, two bottles of water, four eyes, and one broken heart. 

Without missing a beat, you lower your head and take a deep breath before making your way back towards the elevator. Away from the cold behind the blue eyes you fell in love with. 

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

Bucky. Bucky. Bucky.

You toss and turn all night, alone in the bed with a permanent empty space to the left of you. It’s been 5 months since you’ve spoken last, since he decided to give up trying to make it work. Even longer since he last held you in his arms. Here you are tonight, alone in the space where he studied you, learned every movement and what they meant. All your mind can drift to is the way his eyes would shine into yours as you held each other close. It was for nothing. The horrors you escaped hand in hand, none of it mattered. Would returning to the empty, cold cell be any different than being silent in the warmth brought by the tower? You were free from experimentation and free from being beaten, but you were never able to escape the memory of his lips pressing against yours.

You sit up from your sleep, breathing heavily as you remember how he would ease your mind after every nightmare. This night is no different. Every night is the same, it has been since he turned his back away from you. You search the bed with an open hand only feeling empty space beside you, remembrance of the man who you once shared your life with. 

With a heavy sigh you look around your nightstand to see the red glow show 5:47 AM. A perfectly normal time to rise from bed and start a training session without turning any heads. With the mental confirmation of the start of your day, you retreat from your bed heading over to the bathroom tucked away in the corner of your bedroom. You start the daily routine driven in your skull. Brush your teeth. Wash your face. Look presentable and ready to fight when necessary. You grab your phone and tuck it into the pocket of your leggings, heading out of your room and down to the gym level. 

It takes time to heal a broken heart and today you will continue your journey. One step at a time, one foot in front of another, until you no longer think of him rescuing you from your night terrors or until you can speak in his direction. For today, you just need to focus on the routine. Wake, train, eat, work, and disappear into the void created in mind. Repeat, repeat, repeat. 

You make your way onto the gym floor, already hearing the grunt of the other members up and training in the early morning. You had almost wished to stay in bed longer, pick a time later in the day to train on your sore muscles. You really had almost wished the previous mission took you out cold and you didn’t have to continue the vicious cycle of needing to improve every muscle and every fight. You only wanted to disappear into nothingness with no one to catch you fall. Your legs kick into gear as you force yourself to walk to the treadmill to start with the daily habit.

While running your mind picks up bits and pieces of conversation from the passing people training. New mission details, old drama, new relationships forming through the tower. But your mind stays stuck to the familiar voice coming from the weight area. Bucky. His voice carries in a regular room, somehow your ears could always catch any sound when he is around. His breathing, the squeaking of his shoes, the sound of metal on metal as he lifts the weights high and low. The old you would have jumped off the treadmill and ran to him as soon as you heard his steady breathing. The new you stays running. Turning off the world around you as you feel your legs burn beneath you.

A new voice breaks you out of your heavy run on the treadmill, causing you to abruptly step off the treadmill.

"Would you like to train with someone? You look like you're running away from someone," 

Steve. Of course it's Steve. He always finds you when you're jogging in the morning, it's another key part of the routine you have created since moving into the tower.

"Oh, yeah. Just doing some cardio to warm up," You try to laugh off being caught stuck in your own mind to the blond man. He knows where your mind goes if you and Bucky are in the same room. He can always tell when you have gone too deep into your own mind and can't find an escape. You reach for the towel placed over your treadmill and dry off the sweat cascading down your forehead and chest. "Do you want to work on weights or work on fighting today, Stevie Boy?"

He offers a small smile at the use of the nickname you gave him, a knowing nod is offered in return as he moves out of your way to give you space to dry off.

"I was thinking we could go over new training modules Fury had sent through to keep us accustomed to both new styles of fighting as well as older styles. Sounds exciting enough for you?" He crosses his arms over each other as he leans against your previously used treadmill

You mirror his casual stance with your hands on your hips with a soft smirk against your lips as you respond to him in a mocking tone. "I don't know, old man. You think you can handle training with me?" You tsk your tongue against the roof of your mouth as you turn and walk towards the large mat positioned in the center of the room. "A little birdy told me you were having issues with your back pain this week. Can't even get out of bed without a groan, who are you?"

Steve gasps in shock with his jaw dropping with a playful push on your arm

“Nat told you! She can never keep one thing just between her and I”

You throw your head back in laughter as you climb onto the training mats with Steve, each of you positioning ourselves in front of the glass barrier to watch the presentations on the screen.

“Hey, I didn’t even ask for this information! She just talks and sometimes doesn’t stop until I walk away from her. It’s nothing to be embarrassed of, Cap. We all get old someday. Me, not so much. But you? Your time was going to come around eventually.” You reply to him with feigned sincerity

He rolls his eyes towards the sky as he stands in front of the glass. “Say whatever you want. My back may be old but I can knock you down six ways from Sunday.”

You press start on the program to begin our training for the day before turning to face him to egg him on even further. 

“Six ways from Sunday, Stevie? Really? I’m going to need some proof to back up your words”

He cast a knowing smirk towards your direction as the demonstration began on the screen. Prove me wrong, he did. And boy, did you regret it.

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

Hours later as you limped your way back into the common room after Steve had definitely beaten you down, you took a moment to catch your breath with your back on the wall facing the elevator. Step two of your daily routine has now finished, now onto three. Eating a meal. You turn to finally face the kitchen with a wince in your step as you spot a head of brown hair leaning with his back against the island, looking out the window and lost in thought. Familiar.

You pause your journey to the kitchen for a moment and watch the man you have known for most of your life–watching him enjoy one of his few moments of peace. With the constant craze between missions or battles, you never get the chance to have a moment of pure, unadulterated serenity. Although you have spent hours training with Steve in the lower level of the gym, it is warming to know the man who has been beaten down for the majority of his life can find a moment in the quiet afternoon to watch the birds fly around. Almost humorous to think of the formerly known Winter Soldier, World War II hero turned assassin, taking a moment out of his day to enjoy the soft caused by the rising day.

Breaking the barrier of the room, you make your way over to the fridge and start to take out the ingredients to create yourself a full breakfast. Eggs, sausage, and hashbrowns. A simple breakfast that is quick and can get you away from the rising tension that will be caused when Bucky notices you have entered the space he has created. 

As if you had summed it on cue, you see Bucky’s body tense against the counter as you make your way through creating your breakfast. As most days where it is the two of you sharing the kitchen, neither of you dare to make a sound. The tense silence always seems to plague the surrounding walls if you two are in a room together without a buffer to lead any conversation. 

You finish making your breakfast, grabbing a drink from the fridge as well as you make your way to sit on the opposite end of the island bar that seats Bucky. You try to be quiet and respect his space as you take a corner away from his world and begin to eat your food in this silence of the early afternoon.

Off to the side of you, you can hear the rise and fall of his voice. Not expecting any sound to break the silence created in the common room you release a small sigh and continue eating your breakfast. Expecting a contrasting voice to the opposite side of you to respond to whatever Bucky might be speaking on, though he is not much of a talker to anyone. Through no surprise, there is no comment in return. 

You hear his voice rise again, almost a whisper, call out your name. 

Immediately at the sound of your name against his lips for the first time in almost half a year, your eyes force themselves off of the plate of food to look up to him with your eyebrows furrowing together. He’s talking to me.

“Did you hear what I asked?” Bucky calls out your name again, asking with a slight tilt in his head, waiting for an answer.

You stare back at Bucky like a deer caught in headlights, causing him to stumble over his next words with a small lift in the corners of his mouth.

“I-I asked if you would like to go to a new cafe I found down the street. We haven’t spoken in months and I would like to buy you a coffee,” Something is new with the sound of Bucky’s voice. Something you haven’t heard in months since you two separated. He was scared. Of rejection, of you, of having his moment of courage to open up be shot down. His eyes dart around your face, searching for any sign of discomfort that may be caused by him.

You slowly blink your eyes at him, trying to wrap your head around the idea that not only is Bucky currently speaking to you but is also inviting you to coffee. Why? You finally turn and face him with your hand coming up to brush against your eyes in confusion.

“M-me? You’re asking me if I want to try a new cafe with you? What?” Your confusion is sketched along your face, attempting to make sense of both Bucky talking in your direction.

“Yes, is that okay? It’s new and I know you always liked to try new coffee places with me,” He responds with more information to attempt to convince you to speak to him and spend a lazy moment with him

You nod in response before finishing the bite of food within your mouth. “Yes, we can get coffee. That’s okay. Just need to clean up and get ready, is that okay?”

He offers a grunt in response with his hands shifting against the edge of the island in anticipation. “Of course, doll. Take your time. I’ll send you the address to the cafe in a bit, just let me know when you’re ready.” You try to control your heart rate as you hear how easily he is able to speak to you after months of silence, as you sit in your seat trying not to crumble towards the floor.

“That would be great. Thank you, James. I’ll finish up now.” As you move to start cleaning up the mess you had created in the kitchen from your breakfast. you offer him a small grin and raise your eyebrows. Exiting the kitchen you take a moment to stare at the back of Bucky’s body once again, thinking over how 5 months of silence can end in one moment with just a simple request of coffee. 

“It’s only just coffee. I can do coffee,” You whisper to yourself as you exit the kitchen to make yourself more presentable for getting coffee with Bucky

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

You make your way into the cafe Bucky had requested you meet him out, just a few blocks away from the tower. You both order your coffee and make your way to a secluded and quiet section of the cafe. 

Silence passes over the both of you as you sit in a booth in the corner of the cafe. Two souls, two cups of coffee, and one broken heart.

No words need to be spoken when years of survival and months of heartache lay beneath the surface. Minutes pass with his light eyes burning holes in your irises, the silence growing in the space between you both is both inviting and frightening. For the first time in months, you’re the one who breaks the barrier of silence protecting both your heart and his sanity.

“You can’t look at me like that anymore, James,” I whisper with the side of my head pressed against the wall, trying to ground my sanity in the quiet cafe.  “You haven’t spoken to me in months and you expect me to know what’s going on in your head? Talk to me. Please, James”

The sound of his deep inhale nearly shocks you against the wall. Finally, a reaction. His eyes swim with uncertainty as he hears and understands the pleading in your voice, needing more than what he has offered.

“I can’t talk to you anymore,” he whispers your name like it has pained him to mention aloud to the cafe around you

You throw your hands down to the table in disbelief, almost annoyance. For months since you two parted, the most interaction you have shared is sitting at the same table during a meeting, fighting against the enemy during an operation, or the silent moments in the middle of the night when you both need to disappear. 

Here you are wanting, begging, for any sort of explanation for the silence growing between you both. You have become defeated. 

“Why am I here, James? If not to talk, then what? So you’re not alone? What could it be?”

He takes a pause, trying to understand the micro expressions drifting across your face as you attempt to decide whether to stay or to leave Bucky alone in the booth. 

"What do you want from me, Bucky?"

"I want you to stay," the tension grows stronger between the both of you as your eyes close against his words and your head drops parallel to the table, bringing the coffee cup to rest between your shaking hands.

"All I know is I want you to stay. Just don't go. I don't want to talk, I just want you. Quiet, loud, annoying, honest. I just want you, all of you." From across the table you can hear the faint sound of metal shifting against his coffee mug as he attempts to burn his words with his coffee. "Just don't leave yet, please. Just stay."

"Why?" You turn your head up towards his blue eyes, looking for any possible answer to the questions swarming in my chest. "Why abandon me just to stare in silence? What am I to you?"

His flesh hand fiddles with the ridges on the back of his metal hand as his mind warps against himself, what was the reason he wanted you to stay besides just to know you're here? After nearly a year of silence, how can a simple string of words make up for the past?

His voice barely registers to your ears over a whisper, “I just need you around, doll. I’ve never been a man of words and it’s even more difficult now. I can’t live in a world where I can’t reach out and touch you when I want you closer.”

“I can never wrap my head around your intentions. You’re consistent, I’ll give you that. Consistent in the way you keep me confused, always at your door begging for more out of you when you so easily turn away from me. Where are you when I need you?” 

Hearing my words bounce against the coffee cups between us, Bucky continues lightly tapping against the rim of his mug as he thinks harder. Looking for the correct words to make you stay in the secluded corner of the cafe with him.

“Before the war, when I was just a teenager, I was good at expressing how I felt. In the short-term, anyway. I knew which words would make sense and which words would keep someone close. I’m no longer that version of myself. I don’t believe I have the capability to be the person you want me to be.”

You let the silence settle between the two of you as you both sit and drink your coffee on separate sides of the booth. The silence becoming an overbearing reminder that even though you saved each other from a life full of torture and pain, you could never come together to make each other make sense. There was always the tension of knowing each other too well, too deeply, that caused a divide.

You are the one who breaks the silence in the cafe for a second time today with a timid voice, betraying all your instincts to protect yourself and run away from the conversation. “I have never asked for you to be more. I have never asked for you to change. My only request was that you let me in, just a sliver. I have lived your life and you have lived mine, the least you can do is offer me a place in your life.”

Sadness is stretched across his face as he takes your sentence word by word, his fist clenching against the coffee cup between his hands. Just trying to find the words to make you fall back into his arms and remove him from the icey world he has created under the disguise of protection. “Please, don’t leave. I want you around. I want all of you, all the time. I have never not wanted a piece of you in my life. I can’t bear living without you, knowing you’re someone who sees me as me. ” He lets his coffee mug bounce against the top of the table as he reaches across to grab your hands in his, yearning to touch any piece of you that he can.

"I can't be around you, Bucky. You've broken my heart time and time again. You know I have lived a long life looking into your eyes without a sound. I'm sorry I can't enjoy the silence you create or the space you let drift between us. Unfortunately, I meant it when I said I will never understand you." You push both his hand off of yours as well as your cup away from you in a hurried manner and grab your bag from the corner of the booth. As you start to rush to remove yourself from the situation and leave the booth you’re sitting in, you feel Bucky’s flesh hand reach out and cradle your wrist. 

"I don't have the words, please, just stay." His eyes are pained as they search through mine, begging doesn't come easily to the former Winter Soldier but he will always try to make you see him. You carefully remove your hand from his hold and move to stand beside the table.

"You've had nearly a year to say those words, any words, Buck. I lived a life before you and I will continue to live one without you. Maybe in another life, but not this one. Goodbye, James"

Two souls, two cups of coffee left on the table, two broken hearts.

As you turn and make your way towards the exit with tears in your eyes you can hear Bucky stand up from the table and call after you. You don't flinch, you don't turn around, you keep walking with tears swallowing your burning face. You only came for coffee. 

... it's never just coffee ...

A/N pt 2: If you could not hate on this and just say ‘oh my god you did so good for your first time writing’ that would be much appreciated. Let a girl experiment with her art, jeez :p

[mydearesthrry]

baby honey - h.s.

a/n: long time no talk! ive had this in my drafts for the longest but didnt know how to finish it. it has a bad ending anyway but its seriously been collecting dust. i missed u guys sorry i disappeared lol. enjoy!!!!

wc: 1.9k

cw: nothing just fluff

*part of the honeyed moments universe! parts one and two here! ❤️*

“Okay Daisy baby, say cheese!” YN grinned, holding her film camera up to her right eye to snap a picture of her precious daughter surrounded by a mountain of different sized presents.

Today was Daisy’s sixth birthday, which Harry and YN basically made a national holiday. It was the day their perfect little girl was born, bringing nothing but love and light into their lives– how could they not go all out?

Harry was out getting breakfast– per the birthday girl’s request. She’d wanted pink french toast, pancakes, and pink eggs, which had Harry dashing out to the store to get food coloring and pancake mix. They were having a small get together with a couple of friends that Daisy had made back in London, as well as YN and Harry’s closest relatives and friends. It was princess themed, to no one’s surprise, and all of her aunt’s and uncle’s were assigned a princess or prince to dress up as.

YN and Harry were assigned to dress up as Rapunzel and Flynn Rider from Daisy’s favorite movie Tangled, while Daisy chose to toddle around in a dress that had all the famous Disney princesses on it, the skirt part of the dress covered in pink sparkly ruffles that left a trail of glitter wherever she went. YN could cry right now thinking of all the mess she’d have to clean up following this party, but the wide grin on her daughter’s face made every speck of glitter worth it.

“Mommy, y’have to get Bear in the picture!” Daisy whines, catching the attention of the puppy in the corner. Now, Y/N uses the word puppy very lightly, seeing as said puppy was as tall as her hip just standing on all fours. Y/N sighs, but calls the dog over anyway.

“Bear, come here baby,” She calls to the chocolate lab. “Good boy, okay, now sit riiiiiight here.” Daisy’s smile had grown exponentially, if it was even possible. She leaned forward a bit to place a soft hand on the top of Bear’s head, petting it softly and treating her furry best friend with the utmost delicacy.

Harry had walked in during their mini photoshoot, dropping the bags silently next to him as he leaned against a pillar that separated their dining room from the living room. He watched with a fond smile at his tiny family, his daughter in her ‘perfect princess dress’, his wife on her knees with a wide smile, a film camera held tightly in her hands, and his dog laying at his daughter's feet. He watched on, not wanting to disturb the domestic moment, though his attempt was interrupted when his perfect little Daisy caught a glimpse of him in the entryway.

“Hi Daddy!” She squealed, gaining the attention of Bear who got up to greet his dad. Harry leaned down and greeted his puppy back, scratches soothing the pup as flashes of white from his nails played hide and seek with the brown fur.

“Hello, birthday princess!” He grinned, squatting down to greet his daughter who was already running toward him at full speed. Her dress flowed behind her, glitter literally getting everywhere. Harry snorted at the grimace his wife was wearing on her features, a soft groan coming from him when Daisy had connected with his chest harshly.

“Are we makin’ pancakes, Daddy?” Oh, bless her sweet little heart. A pout was on Harry’s lips when she pulled back, his hands remaining on her back in an effort to keep his growing baby close to him.

“Of course, baby. Gotta go get everythin’ set up, though. Can y’go get washed up so we can start? ‘S gonna take me a mo’ and ‘M gonna have Mama help me.” He makes a deal with his baby, nodding while talking, Daisy mimicking his nods.

“Yes Daddy, be right back!” She zips away, running toward her bedroom with Bear in tow. Harry stands from his crouched position, walking over to meet his wife who was sat in the middle of the living room, turned to where Harry and Daisy once were.

“Hi,” He greets, sitting down on his bum in front of her, kissing her sweetly. “Got everythin’ y’wanted, Mama.”

“Mm, thank you, H. Ready t’tell our little big girl that she’s gonna be a big sister?” She whispers through a big smile, voice hushed to keep the secret as safe as possible from her daughter’s ears, even though she was out of earshot.

“As ready as I’ll ever be, my sweet Honey.” He grins, standing up out of his sitting position and offering his hands to his wife, who takes them with zero hesitation.

The two work like a well oiled machine, dancing around each other and never once accidentally bumping into each other as they prepare everything to make Daisy’s dream breakfast. They’re just about done when Daisy comes back into the kitchen, making her presence known when she knocks into the back of Harry’s legs, wrapping her tiny arms around the full of his thigh. She hangs on and giggles when he turns her around to have her sit on his foot, continuing the work with his baby wrapped on his leg like a koala bear.

Y/N has a bittersweet smile on her face, knowing this was gonna be one of the last times that was blissfully theirs, the three of them (with the exception of Bear) together before the new baby came. She felt herself getting emotional by the thought, pushing away the fact that she had yet another 6 months to wait, trying to soak in the moment even though there were gonna be more to come in the next few months.

The space is filled with loud laughter, sweet kisses, and tiny barks as they meander around the kitchen, Daisy assisting like a proper angel whenever asked. She’d gotten comfortable on the kitchen counter while her parents cooked her pink breakfast, the small speaker that was next to her blasting the Tangled soundtrack.

“Okay Peanut… I think we’re all done!” Harry said finally, plating the last of the pink pancakes and turning to his daughter who had an excited gleam in her green eyes that matched her fathers.

“Yay!” She squealed, holding her hands out for Harry to grab her. He walked up and wrapped his arms around her, twirling around when she grabbed on, filling the air with laughter.

The family walked over to the dining room, plates in YN and Harry’s hands, a jug of apple juice in Daisy’s tiny arms. They all sit around the table, two chairs on the long sides of the brown spruce table, with two fancier chairs on the narrower end parts. YN and Harry place the pink plates in the center, YN moving the vase of purple and pink peonies bought specifically for the birthday princess to the small table that held their vinyls and record player. Daisy hands the half full jug to her dad, hugging his thigh tightly before skipping to her spot on the opposite side of Harry. YN grabs the seat next to her, plopping down into the chair and turning toward her daughter, brushing her dark unruly curls back out of her face.

Settling in her chair, Daisy grins widely and shimmies in her chair in a small dance, her parents cooing and settling in their chairs as well. Breakfast goes off without a hitch, the tiny family conversing about the princess’ upcoming party. Daisy holds her tiny plastic fork in her hand as she gesticulates with her hands as she talks. Her parents have always been patient with her and let her vocalize whatever was on her mind at any point of the day, not scolding her if she even came into their room at the early hours of the morning to excitedly tell them about the dream she had. After all, she was their little miracle, and they’d do whatever it took to make her happy.

Harry and YN shared a knowing look as they approached the end of breakfast. Daisy’s princess sippy cup was almost empty, and her plate was cleared. YN clears her throat, making Daisy turn her attention to her mom. “Baby, we have something to tell you.”

Daisy tilts her head in childlike wonder, a confused expression on her face, her eyebrows furrowed and turned in toward each other. “Wha’ s’it, Mama?”

YN smiles as she reaches down between her and Harry, a tiny gift bag sitting on the floor between their chairs. Grabbing it and placing it in front of Daisy, Y/N giggles at the gasp her daughter lets out.

“A present? Already?!” Daisy squeals, grabbing the paper bag and placing it onto her lap, eagerly pulling the ribbon that held the straps shut.

“Ah- hold on, Dais,” Harry says, Daisy complying instantly. “Before y’open it, Mama and I wanna say that we love you, and want you to know that you’ll always be our sweet little girl, okay?”

Daisy tilted her head to the side, eyebrows furrowed in confusion, looking like an exact replica of her father. “Oh, um— I love you too, Daddy, and you, Mama.”

“I love you too, Dais. Okay, you can open it now.” Y/N approves, phone hidden against her chest, now recording her daughter.

“A baby doll! Oh my goodness!” Daisy squealed, holding up the box about 2 inches from her face. “Thank you Mama! Thank you Daddy!”

“Wait, peanut,” Harry started, reaching into the bag and pulling out another box, which had another doll similar to the baby. “Look! It’s a big sister for the baby doll! It’s like you, tiny!”

“Huh?” She said confusedly. “But I’m not a big sister.”

“Yes you are, Daisy girl. Or… you will be, soon at least.” Y/N grinned, not being able to contain her smile at this point.

“Wait…” Daisy collected her tiny thoughts as she tried to connect the dots, before her eyes brightened when she realized what her mother was saying. “Baby?!”

“Yeah, Dais. Mumma’s havin’ a baby!” Harry exclaimed, toothy smiles and dimples out.

“Oh my goodness!” Daisy gasps, jumping haphazardly out of her chair. “Mumma!”

“Oh, careful, sweet girl!” Y/N giggles, scooting her chair out to prop her daughter on her lap comfortably.

“Y’really havin’ a baby?!” She squawked, frantic eyes drifting between her parents.

“Yeah, peanut, we are!” Harry giggled, ruffling his daughters hair.

“This is the best present ever!” She squealed, aggressively wrapping her arms around her mother’s neck. “Thank you, Mommy, and Daddy.”

Y/N placed a hand on the back of Daisy’s head, a big pout on her lips as she turned her head to look at Harry, who matched her expression with a similar frown.

“My sweet Daisy girl, you’re so welcome. Gonna be the best big sister ever, hm?” Y/N whispered, pecking small kisses onto her head.

“The best, I promise!”

[2chopsticks2eyes]

Numb

(Part Two)

This is part two of a multiple part series, please be sure to start from part one!

(Part One) | (Part Two)

2chopsticks2eyes - Masterlist

Pairing: Lee Minho/Lee Know x Fem Reader

Themes: Angst, (Smut), (Fluff)

Word Count (all parts): ~21.8k | AO3

Summary: You were penniless and working tirelessly at a seedy club when you were assaulted. As soon as you resigned yourself to your fate, Lee Minho saved you, albeit grudgingly. You received treatment and you didn’t have to pay them a dime under one condition: You must be confined to his home for the remainder of your recovery.

Author’s Note:

***IMPORTANT!!!*** THIS STORY IS FILLED WITH TRIGGER WARNINGS. THIS SECOND PART DOES NOT CONTAIN THOSE TRIGGERS, BUT IT IS IMPLIED AND REFERENCED. PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE READ TAGS AND WARNINGS AT BEGINNING OF PART ONE BEFORE PROCEEDING.

The overall plot line was based off a recommendation from @linoots from Tumblr (I received permission from them to write this type of content)

(I’ve missed you all dearly. So sorry it’s taken so long 🥺)

__________________________________________

You silently watched as the doctor removed the IV that had been pumping fluids into your body for the past 48 hours and you rubbed the uncomfortable bandage he replaced it with.

You refused to make eye contact with him. In fact, you did not look or talk to anybody since you woke up in that same home-hospital room you had grown accustomed to. Not Chris, not Felix, and definitely not Minho.

You were a shell of your former self and you didn’t know if you were upset or relieved that you were revived. You didn’t know what to make of it. But now, there was one emotion you knew that burned brighter than your numbness.

Anger.

You couldn’t quite believe Felix’s words when he said that Minho was the one who came to your rescue… again…

But that was preposterous. The bastard probably told the younger man to say that to make himself look better… Whatever, fuck it all.

You allowed yourself to be led back to your room to get some rest. However, when Felix left and Minho walked in, you fortified your walls even further. You felt your face turn sour with each passing moment without even looking at the man and you rolled over in bed so your back was facing him.

There was a long pause of silence that seemed to drag on for hours.

You finally heard a long sigh and then the sound of him plopping down into the chair by your bed. “You know…” He started, and you squeezed your eyes shut. “There’s a reason I bothered to do all of this...”

You tried your hardest to ignore him, but you couldn’t control the fact that his words piqued your interest, your ears already tuned-in to his velvety voice.

“Not just this time, but… the reason I brought you here in the first place.” After a moment of silence, he realized you weren’t going to respond, so he huffed in frustration. “Forget it.”

You suddenly heard the door open and you peered over your shoulder. Without turning to face you, he blankly said, “You are now required to have 24/7 supervision, congratulations.”

And with that, the man walked out while Felix walked in, a meek smile on his face and hands full with baked goods.

“In the mood for cookies?” You sighed and just returned to your side as you balled up in a mess of frustration and confusion under the covers, mind still tingling with the thought of what Minho was going to say.

__________________________________________

“I don’t need a fucking babysitter, Felix. I’m a grown woman.”

Felix just huffed, obviously sick and tired of your complaints. “You know why it’s this way, sweetie. Don’t blame me for doing my job.”

The topic was a constant now. He was obviously there for your physical therapy, but he was also everywhere else. You loved the man, you did, but there is only so much time you could stand without a little alone time!

You wanted to watch TV? He was there. You wanted to nap? He was there. You couldn’t even go to the bathroom without having to leave the door open so he ‘has access to you at all times’. Thank god he stayed outside while you did your business…

After a week of this bullshit, you decided to do something about it…

Throughout your exploration of the house, you found some rooms with names on them. Evidently the ones that Minho once said were strictly prohibited. A couple of the rooms had names you were completely unfamiliar with, but others, you remembered well. Chan, Felix, Jisung, Seungmin, Jeongin, and finally some large double-doors with the initials L.M.

Lee Minho.

The man had supposedly been ‘out on business’ the entire week, but you knew for sure he had come back today with all of the ruckus of the house staff.

So, when you were positive that Felix had finally passed out on the sofa in your room for the night, you, as quietly as humanly possible, snuck out of the room and tip-toed down the hallway and downstairs to the doors you knew by heart now.

The room was surprisingly extremely secluded and you thanked the heavens because you knew for sure you wouldn’t be able to keep cool once he was in sight. You were fully prepared to bang your fist all the way through Minho’s door to meet the man himself if that’s what it took, but as you raised your fist to knock, the door suddenly opened.

Well… shit…

You really didn’t want to admit it, you really didn’t, but… the sight before you was absolutely, without a doubt, mouth watering. He looked just as surprised as you, but you found yourself focused on something other than his face for once…

The man was completely shirtless, pajama pants riding low on his hips and revealing the prominent V of his abdomen. Speaking of abdomen, the dude was of course ripped. Well, maybe not Dr. Chris (Or Christopher, or Chan, or what the fuck ever you want to call him) kind of ripped, but enough to make your eyes bulge out and glue themselves to every inch of impeccably toned abs and pecs.

And another thing that stood out in particular was the sleeve of tattoos twisting and swirling around the upper half of his right arm. You had only seen him in button-ups thus far and, even if he rolled up his sleeves, you somehow hadn’t ever noticed it. You were usually hyper-focused on his face, but at that moment, all you could see was the vast amount of skin on display.

You swallowed the lump in your throat.

“What are you doing here?” His stern words snapped you back to reality and you had to rapidly blink to regain a semblance of consciousness.

What am I doing? You shivered and grimaced at yourself for your intrusive thoughts before meeting his eyes.

“Uh-uhh I–” You halted your words when you noticed he was clutching something on his side. Curiosity got the better of you and you peered around his towering frame to see a soiled and basically useless bandage dripping with blood. “Holy shit! Are you alright?!” You said stepping towards him instinctively, catching yourself once he tensed and stepped back, correcting his posture as if to defend himself.

Psh, what could you possibly do to him? You couldn’t even defend yourself…

He glanced at the cloth he was currently pressing to his side and made a disgruntled noise. “I’m fine.” He said with a curt and slightly annoyed huff. “Why don’t you have anyone watching you right now?” He grumbled, obviously frustrated as he looked around behind you in search of your babysitter.

You furrowed your brows, still peeved but also worried about the still-bleeding wound on his side. “I had to sneak away because I don’t necessarily appreciate being babysat like a fucking child! Now you need to refresh that bandage before it gets infected!” You borderline shouted.

You could almost feel the daggers he shot at you with his eyes pierce through your flesh. “I said I’m fine! Now go back to be– Hey!”

You cut his sentence off short when you saw a first aid kit that looked like it had been through war and back on a small table behind him before you marched your way in, not giving two flying fucks that you were invading his room. “Get your ass in here, we need to clean you up first.” You demanded, collecting the kit and marching into what looked like the ensuite, completely ignoring his protests.

Jesus, is this much luxury even necessary? You thought as you passed through his behemoth of a room. Gray, white, and covered in smooth marble and chandeliers, it housed all of the amenities to be considered its own wing of the house. The gray material of the sofa and bed looked so soft and luxurious you were tempted to walk over and run your fingers along them. But that would have to wait.

He slammed his bedroom door shut with a huff and turned around. “You can’t just–!” You ignored him as you strolled into the bathroom (Still unnecessarily gorgeous).

“Just get your ass in here and sit!” You shouted from the bathroom. When you saw him stop in the doorway and glare at you, you just proceeded to open the first-aid kit and then pointed at the black and white marble countertop next to the sink. “Sit.”

He rolled his eyes before squeezing them shut and breathing out a slow sigh. “You… You’re a pain in my ass.” He groaned before dragging his feet over to you and hopping up to sit on the counter like you asked. If you hadn’t been right in front of him, you would have almost missed the slight hiss of pain he breathed through clenched teeth.

Why you had felt a pang of sympathy for the man, you had no clue.

He watched you apprehensively as you washed your hands and moved to face him. A brief moment of awkward silence had permeated the air before you tentatively raised your hands to remove the soiled bandage.

Minho visibly stiffened, but he made no move to stop you as your shaky fingers slowly peeled back the gauze.

Holy shit. That was 100% unmistakably a bullet wound.

Your mind was automatically transported back to that first night where you witnessed this guy casually gun down those men, effectively splattering five different brains on the fresh snow without even batting an eyelash. Who the fuck is Lee Minho? And what all was he capable of?

“If you’re going to just stand there and stare, then kindly leave me the fuck alone.” His gruff voice made you jump slightly as you were pulled from your thoughts.

You cleared your throat as you proceeded to throw away the red-stained dressing. You avoided his eyes as you grabbed the saline solution and a towel, still feeling his eyes bore into you with every movement.

However, you froze as you held the saline up to the mangled skin. “U-um… Did you take out—?”

“Yes, I already removed the bullet. Get on with it.”

Your stomach churned at his affirmation of the cause of injury, but you were getting sick and tired of his assholery as you glared up at his blackened eyes. “You know, a little gratitude goes a long way, shithead.”

He seemed stunned for a moment, looking at you as if you had gone crazy before returning to his deadly glower. “Look here, Tinkerbell—“ You bristled at that stupid-ass name again… “YOU’RE the one that barged in here. YOU’RE the one who has been a pain in my ass ever since you got here. So, no, I won’t give ‘gratitude’ where it’s not deserved. Plus, you’re the one to talk…” He murmured the last bit, but you still clearly heard him.

“Then why bother saving me in the first place?!” You basically screamed at him.

Silence and a shocked disposition was all you got in return.

“I had nothing to live for anyway, so why bother?! You could have just as easily ignored what was happening and went on your merry fucking way. Could have left me behind that dumpster to freeze and bleed to death so you wouldn’t have to deal with this ‘pain in the ass’. Could have also left me alone to OD and suffocate on my own vomit the other day. So what gives?” You finished with a seething remark while gesturing to yourself.

His face was stark blank. “You want to know why I saved you?” He said through gritted teeth. You just responded with a curt nod. He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration before his expression morphed into something more solemn. It seemed like he was having an internal battle before he began to speak. He finally sighed and leaned his head back against the wall mirror with closed eyes. “I once… I had a cousin, one that was very close to me. I would always be overbearing and protective and she would always tell me to stop babying her.”

He chuckled fondly as he reminisced and you found yourself latching onto his every word. You chalked it up to the fact that you were finally learning something about this enigmatic man and this whole fucked up situation.

“Anyway, as we got older and I got busier, I began giving her more space. She was becoming a woman and I accepted the fact that she could begin to take care of herself.” He paused, but considering the faintest waver in his voice and his dry swallow, it didn’t sound like it was because he was waiting for a response… “I thought she was safe… but there were… others… vile pigs that knew how close she was to me…”

Another beat of silence and you watched his face slowly morph from sorrow to unbridled rage.

“I found her in almost the exact way I found you…” His words felt like a punch to the gut and painful images flooded your mind as you swallowed the bile that rose to your chest. “But, in her case, the scum that had… done that to her had already fled and I… I couldn’t save—” He squeezed his eyes tighter and his jaw clenched hard around the emotions before they could spill out.

You both knew he didn’t need to finish that sentence.

You felt the numbness that had taken over your soul begin to crack once again at the feeling of sympathy towards his cousin, and that shit scared you like none other.

“So, yeah. You might be a raging bitch and I might be a pretentious motherfucker. But even so, I couldn’t just leave you… I just couldn’t…” You felt something churn in your gut and you furrowed your brows in frustration as to what it was. You watched him take a deep breath and sit up a bit straighter. “So, with that being said, I can’t just allow you to throw away everything you’ve worked for so far.”

As if indicating that he had enough of the back-and-forth, he attempted to grab the saline bottle from your hand, only to be met with adamant resistance. You gently pushed his hand away (thankfully without any struggle) and brought the saline and towel up to his ever-bleeding wound that was dripping down to the puddle it created, causing a concerning amount of deep crimson to flood the marble countertop.

You silently flushed the deep cavern with the solution until you deemed it was properly cleaned before moving on to the peroxide. “This might sting a bit…” You warned as you watched his jaw clench. He closed his eyes as you disinfected it and you wondered how he could keep so cool after having a bullet plunged into his side.

Once he was properly cleaned and covered in antibiotic ointment, you picked up the gauze and searched for some tape. Your eyes widened as he wordlessly moved to hand you a long compression wrap.

You emitted a noise that sounded somewhat like a sputtering engine and your face flushed as you saw his suppressed smirk. To wrap that thing around him, you would have to run your hands all over his muscled torso… fuck.

“Something the matter?” He lilted in that nonchalant, annoying timbre. Teasing. “If you don–”

“It’s fine!” You cut him off, maybe a bit too loudly as you refused to make eye contact. “It’s just… just… don’t you have any dressing tape?” You said as you coincidentally eyed his well-defined pecs and abs.

He shrugged. “Nope. Not with me anyway. I just have this—“ He said while waving the fabric in front of your face again with a challenging brow lifted.

You nervously chuckled and squeaked out, “O-okay… Stand up…” You instantly felt goosebumps rise all over your flesh as he hopped off the counter, keeping the gauze pressed to his wound, and stepped a bit too close for a man you barely even knew. Deep breaths, you can do this…

“Hey…” You slowly raised your eyes to meet his own at the sound of the softer change in his tone. He took the tiniest step back to make it easier for him to look you in the eyes. “If you're uncomfortable… I mean… I’m not…” You don’t think you had ever seen him struggle so much with his words. He sighed and closed his eyes before sadly looking at you again. “You have nothing to be afraid of with me… I wouldn’t even think of…” He huffed and shook his head in disgust as he seemed to be thinking of the exact same thing that had plagued you day and night since arriving here.

Before he could even drive his point home, you gently laid your hand on his shoulder, causing his gaze to return to you. “I know…” You replied. “You hardly scare me, Lee Minho.” You teased with a wry smile that even surprised you.

His disturbed face was slowly replaced with a pleasantly surprised grin similar to your own. You watched with feigned mockery as he raised the wrapping once again. “Then prove it, Tink.” You just scoffed and rolled your eyes at the shortened version of his unrelenting name for you and snatched the elastic cloth from his hand.

“Fine.” You huffed defiantly before looking at his abdomen once again. You tentatively pressed the end of the wrap against his heated skin that made you blush. You could feel him watching you and you suddenly felt like hiding.

You wrapped the bandage over several times, feeling yourself tense up every time you touched his bare skin, and secured it tightly once you were finished. “O—“ Your voice cracked when you tried to speak and your face heated as you cleared your throat. “Okay, you’re finished…”

You wouldn’t look him in the eyes, how could you after you basically forced him to let you run your hands all over his tan, muscular, and absolutely gorgeous skin?

“W—“ He hesitated and, despite yourself, you found your eyes instinctively seeking his own out to somehow read the words through his dark irises. You found he was searching your eyes as well with pursed lips before he looked away and cleared his throat as well. “Thank you.”

Huh?

“Channie-hyung wasn’t available when I returned home so I tried to take care of it myself. I guess my half-assed effort didn’t do much, huh?” He chuckled and looked back at you with a meek smile.

Who the fuck is this man and where did Lee Minho go?

He nervously chuckled and you realized you’d been staring at the man far too long. You took a deep breath and stepped back. “Well, I kind of owed it to you now, didn’t I?” You said it lightheartedly, but he furrowed his brows.

“You don’t ever have to owe me anything.”

You arched a brow, but he just turned and began packing away the first aid kit again. You watched his back, trying to remember why you came to his room in the first place. “Minho?”

He stilled his movements.

“What do you even do?” He turned and arched a brow at you and you rolled your eyes, stepping forward next to him to lean against the counter. “Like, you are obviously loaded…” You said gesturing to your luxurious surroundings. “You have a full staff with a doctor to patch up nasty bullet holes like this and god knows what else…” You both looked at his bandage. “And not to mention the bullets you cleared through those guys’ heads without even blinking an eye that night…”

He bit his lip and you followed the action with your eyes. You instinctively wet your own lips. After he was done staring at the marble countertop for an unnecessarily lengthy amount of time, he hesitantly turned his body to face you.

“You could say I sort of run something like a… secret organization?” He said tentatively like it was a question unto himself and you furrowed your brows.

You squinted skeptically at him. “So… you're telling me—“ Is that worry on his face? “—that you're a secret agent? Like a spy?” You looked at him in disbelief.

He sputtered a restrained laugh and looked at you with a suppressed smile. “I suppose you could say I’m like a spy.”

“LIKE a spy?”

He looked up like he was deliberating. “Sure. Like a spy.”

“But not actually a spy?”

He groaned at your questioning and ran a hand through his messy hair. Come to think of it, this is the most dressed-down look you’d seen on him. Gone were the button-ups and slacks, now replaced by sweats and a compression wrap over his shirtless body.

He stood straight and crossed his arms, obviously ready for the conversation to be over. “Does it matter? Look, it’s already really late and Yongbok will panic if he realizes you ran off.”

Oh shit, that’s right. That’s the whole reason you were even there. In Minho’s bathroom. Standing closely to him. With the man half naked and you in your flimsy, silk nightwear. Your peaked nipples seemed suddenly way more apparent as you crossed your arms over your chest. You rapidly blinked as if suddenly waking up and quickly stepped back.

“I-I wanted to ask you something…” He arched his brow and you continued. “Can you please call off the reinforcements? I know I made a bad decision and all, but I will honestly go crazy if I have to use the bathroom with the door open one more time.” You found yourself begging rather than demanding like you had initially intended.

Why, though?

He looked hesitant and you quickly added, “I don’t even mean all of the time! Like, I’ll keep my bedroom door open so he can check up on me and he can even watch me secretly while I’m around the house, I just want at least a little sense of privacy!”

You knew you sounded like a pathetic child, but you had resigned yourself to that fate as soon as you had to take a massive, violent shit earlier that day and you knew Felix had heard everything from the other room. Without any doors to create that sweet, sweet sound barrier? Ugh… You were still mortified to look at him.

You silently watched him with imploring eyes as he tiredly rubbed his brow. “You…” You widened your eyes with a hopeful energy pulsing through them, hoping to portray as such as he looked into your pleading eyes. He sighed. “I suppose those terms are fair…” You lit up like a Christmas tree before he raised a finger. “BUT, if you are EVER alone ANYWHERE, you need to let him know where you are and give him regular updates on your whereabouts to let him know if you are okay. Okay?”

You vehemently nodded your head and perked up. “Thank GOD!”

He smirked and crossed his arms again. “I think I like you calling me a god. Have I upgraded from a narcissistic asshole?” He tilted his head with raised brows and you were, once again, reminded how gorgeous this man really was.

You rolled your eyes and went to shove his shoulder, but before you could even touch him, he grabbed your wrist in the blink of an eye. For some reason, you both looked surprised as he froze with your wrist in his hand from less than a foot away. Your heart was racing and you chalked it up to being from fear of someone grabbing you.

But why did that conclusion not feel quite right…?

Before you could ponder it, he dropped your arm and quickly stepped away. “Fuck. I-I’m sorry.” He shook his head and you watched worry swirl in his eyes.

No…

No, you weren’t afraid of this man. You don’t know why, but you knew he wouldn’t hurt you intentionally. Even after everything… “It was just instinct! I swear! I would never intend to—“

“I know, Minho.” You cut off his panicking, but his brows gave away his lingering concern. ���I guess I’m just going to have to take your word for it on the whole spy thing, though, because those were super fast reflexes.” You chuckled to ease the tension and his face softened slightly.

It was silent for a moment and he cleared his throat again. “Well, I should walk you back to your room, it’s late and I’ve had… a very long few days.”

You took a large breath and promptly left the bathroom. “I’m perfectly fine on my own, you know?” There’s that twinge of irritation again…

”I know, I know. But if Yongbok is awake, I want to be able to ease his worries and update him on his role in taking care of you.

Taking care of…

Not treating, not monitoring. Taking care of. You supposed that’s what they were doing, huh? Felix was, in fact, doing much more than treating or monitoring. He waited on you hand and foot and you were being a bitch about it. You made a promise to yourself right then and there to let him know as soon as possible how much you appreciated his care and apologize for your behavior.

You nodded, both to yourself and to Minho’s reasoning before making your way back to your room with the mysterious and intriguing man just a few steps behind you.

__________________________________________

Felix was a saint. Not only did he forgive you when you apologized, but he went as far to say it was his fault for being overbearing. Which was obviously preposterous.

With your new parameters in effect, Felix decided to leave the estate shortly, before quickly returning with gifts for you. Among them were several jigsaw puzzles and you perked up at the sight of them. Over time, you had come to really appreciate those puzzles. So much so that you had already finished all of the ones currently at the estate, strangely enough. All kinds of different collections displayed on random tables throughout the mansion.

Felix was true to his word and gave you your space, only briefly giving you regular check-ups as you sat in one of the many living rooms that giant freaking place held and began the therapeutic work of putting together an adorable puzzle of a litter of kittens.

You would love to have cats…

When a sudden ruckus erupted down the hall, you furrowed your brows and looked behind you to the source. Down the corridor you saw the same seven men that you had seen regularly around the house (obviously minus Felix) dressed in what looked like active-wear gathering around the front entryway.

The men never approached you, but that was most likely because you tried to make yourself scarce once you saw one of them. Maybe Dr. Chris, Felix, and Minho you trusted, but you didn’t know those other men and it made you sick to your stomach thinking of being alone with a stranger without one of those three men accompanying you.

”Okay, guys, this is just routine training today, so no fire hazards, alright Hyunjin?” You heard Minho announce to the group.

Training? Like their super-secret-spy type training?

You felt yourself stand and march over to them without even formulating what you were doing. Who needs rational thought anyway?

If you were remembering correctly, the one named Jeongin spotted you first with a look of surprise. “Come. On. Hyuuung. We need to be prepared for anyth—“ Jeongin harshly elbowed the one who you assumed was Hyunjin and quickly spoke up.

’Hy-Mr. Lee, sir. I think someone is here for you…” He nodded a bow to you and you returned it, giving a meek smile to the group before meeting Minho’s gaze.

He looked slightly surprised before giving you… was that a smile? No, surely not…

You cleared your throat as Felix made his way over with hurried steps and a worried expression. You, then, glanced over at the other men who had become quiet as death upon you stepping up next to Minho. You scanned over them before slightly bowing. “Um… Good morning…” You introduced yourself before hearing a small ‘oh’ from the man beside you. You turned your head as he stepped forward and turned to face you again.

”I guess I haven’t really introduced them all to you yet… These are my… This is my inner circle.” He hesitated and turned to gesture to each of them. “Some I’m sure you already know. Like Channie-Hyung, Yongbok, and Jisung.” The three nodded politely with soft smiles. “But to formally introduce you to the others, this is Changbin…” The shorter, muscular man offered a shy smile. “Hyunjin…” Your eyebrows raise at the incredibly handsome man as his full lips formed a smile as well. “Seungmin…”

”Nice to formally meet you.” He said with an amused grin and you nervously chuckled as you informed him likewise.

”Then there’s our maknae, Jeonginnie.” Hyunjin cooed at the youngest when he also gave a shy smile and he received a death-glare in return.

All of the men remained incredibly polite, bowing their heads when introduced and maintaining their distance. Shit, they probably already know everything about you and your situation… especially considering the fact that no one asked you who you were or why you were there.

You guessed you understood and you were actually somewhat grateful. It saved you from having to explain it yourself and relive all of the pain again…

”It’s very nice to meet you all.” You gave the men a polite smile before turning to Minho again. You were on a mission. “Minho, can I please come train with you guys?”

You could hear a pin drop with how silent the room got. “You… you want to train?” You gave a determined nod before slumping your shoulders at his shake of the head. “No. No way.”

“What?! Why?!”

”Um, I think it’s best we head out first. We will meet you there sir.” The youngest quickly relayed before walking out the front door with the other men in tow, Felix quickly retreating to some other corner of the estate.

After watching the mass leave, you fixed your glare on Minho’s resolute expression. “Not only are you not employed by me, but you also have an injured arm—“

”It could be good therapy for me! And I can even raise it horizontally now!” You demonstrated the movement with gritted teeth, trying to hide the pain, and he responded with an unimpressed visage.

“You are already receiving therapy and you would just be a liability. So, no. End of discussion.”

A liability? Ouch.

You felt anger rise up in you and you took a step near him, his features remaining stone-cold. “You… You’re a… ugh!” You couldn’t even muster up the will to call him an asshole anymore. What the fuck was WRONG with you?

With the lack of anything better to say, you furiously stomped away up to your bedroom to fume in private, but not without flipping him off the entire way there.

__________________________________________

“Knock knock, love.” Felix announced before stepping through your open doorway. It hadn’t been long since you petulantly curled up on the plush armchair by your window to angrily watch the rain outside.

Of course it would rain. Apparently fate had decided to mock you as if you were an actress in some sort of sad music video. Surely Felix would agree.

You watched with hesitancy as he held out his hand to you. “Follow me.” He said calmly with a smile. “I want to show you a new room.” You perked up at that notion. You had been running out of places to explore recently and the prospect of seeing something new was like a kid going to a playground.

You took his hand and allowed him to lead you to one of the many locked double-doors on the estate. What you saw made you gasp in awe. Bookshelves upon bookshelves lined the walls of a massive, two-storied library that was stocked to max capacity with what looked like brand new books as well as older than hell pieces of literature. All surrounding a cozy living area with couches, armchairs, and even a fireplace.

”Minho-hyung must really trust you to let me show you this. These books mean a great deal to him and many of them are extremely fragile as well.” He trusts me? You thought as you watched Felix’s eyes widen. “I-I mean Mr. Lee…”

You furrowed your brows and turned to him. “Why do you do that?” You asked and he just blinked at you with worry written on his features.

”D-do what?”

Playing dumb, are we? “That! Those other guys do it too! Why don’t you just call him Hyung? You all are obviously close. Why try to hide it?”

Felix nervously rubbed the side of his neck and looked down. “It’s not like we are trying to hide it, necessarily. We are just trained to remain professional. It’s just much harder when we are all home and much more relaxed.”

You nodded your head in understanding. “But why do you try to hide it with me? I’m not exactly here on business.” You arched your brow and he smiled sweetly.

”It…” He seemed hesitant to speak until he sighed and lowered his head. “If we keep things professional with you, it might be easier when we have to see you go…” You were taken aback. Easier? Is he saying they would miss you? Why? You were a nobody, and you were honestly kind of a bitch. No, that can’t be it.

”What do you mean by easier?”

He seemed confused by your question. “When you spend so much time with someone, it’s easy to get attached. Even the coldest heart can find warmth in someone they find trustworthy and important.”

Trustworthy? Important? You? What in the world did you do to earn those titles?

Felix must have read the disbelief on your face because he continued. “You and I have spent a lot of time together over the past months. I’ve learned a lot about you and your habits.” You blushed. He most definitely knows a lot about you. He’s seen a lot too. “I know you are a good person. I have an eye for these things.”

He winked at you and you huffed a chuckle.

“And Minho-hyung knows you are a good person too. He just has a different way of… expressing his feelings.” You scoffed and rolled your eyes. “No, it’s true! We discuss you and your progress often and the kind of leniency he gives you in this place is unheard of for anyone other than our circle. Even some of the house staff haven’t been allowed in some of these rooms you’ve seen.”

What on god’s green earth did you say to them to trust you? I mean, of course they can trust you. You bear no ill will toward any of them, not seriously anyway. But why do they think so? Felix could definitely see the confusion on your face when he gently placed a hand on your upper back and guided you two further into the treasure-trove of books.

“Don’t think about it too much, love. Just know that everything we do, we do out of good and pure intentions.”

You definitely thought about it too much.

__________________________________________

You were determined.

You were going to get out of that damned house, even if just for a minute, whether he liked it or not. By exploring the house, you ended up finding a board room, like true business-official type shit. A long table surrounded by office chairs and even a projector screen. And with a small tip from Felix, you knew they all happened to have a meeting that morning.

An actual business meeting. Not the one including half-naked women this time.

So, after gearing up in some serious workout attire, you marched yourself to that exact room, not even bothering to knock. You were on a mission. ”Lee Minho, I demand to be included in your training. I won’t take no for an answer!”

His were the first eyes you seeked out when you entered the room and you willed yourself to not back down.

You, then, remembered the presence of the other seven men in the room and how silent everyone had become. It was as if they thought, if they move even slightly, all hell would break loose. And by looking at Minho’s facial expression, they might have good reason to think as such.

”I. Said. NO. Now please see your way out. As you can see, we are clearly busy.” You were pissed, no, more than pissed, but you squared your shoulders.

However, before you could utter a word, Jisung spoke up. “Hyung. I think we should let her. She is obviously passionate about it.” Minho glared at his friend and then back at you. He was silent for a moment, as if he was deliberating, before speaking again.

”No.”

”FUCKING HELL, MAN! I have been sitting on my ass here for months now for a reason I’m sure everyone here already knows about—!“ You watched guilty expressions color the room. “—and now that I’m getting better, you’re not going to help me defend myself if something like that happens again?” You witnessed his eyes widen as a traitorous tear fell down your cheek. “Fuck. You. Lee Minho!”

Resilience be damned, you were itching to escape that suffocating room and the problem within it. You stormed away once more with a harsh slam of the door and a burning fire inside you fueled by hate and anger.

Fuck this.

__________________________________________

You felt a plop on the couch next to you and you jolted in place with a tiny squeak.

After the meeting room fiasco, you had been spending all of your time in the library. You were so immersed in your book that you didn’t even realize there was another presence in the room.

With a quick whip of the head and an incredulous look on your face, you watched Minho smirk next to you in amusement. “For someone who is super quick with their tongue, you sure are slow with everything else.” He chuckled as you came down from your fright and you placed a hand on your rapidly beating heart.

That motherfucker just about killed you! Well, not literally, but still! You closed your eyes to collect yourself before opening them again to glare at him.

However, instead of that same annoying smirk, his face turned into one of regret. “Shit, I’m sorry… I didn’t even think if that would make you… fuck, I didn’t—“

”It’s fine!” You quickly cut him off, knowing where he was going with that statement. “I-I’m fine… you just startled me a bit.” You calmly placed your bookmark before turning back to him with narrowed eyes. He looked a bit more relieved.

”Still, I need to be more… considerate.” He looked down at his hands, avoiding your eyes. “In more ways than one…” You furrowed your brows in suspicion before he returned your gaze once more. “I’ve thought about it a lot and I realized that I haven’t necessarily been easy on you throughout all of this. I might have played a part in helping you physically, but I didn’t consider how this would all affect you mentally.”

You were speechless. Was this the same man? He’s actually being… remorseful…

“So, yeah. Sorry about all that…” He awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck while averting his eyes. He clearly wasn’t used to apologizing so much. “I, um… I wanted to ask you if we could, like, start over?”

You had never seen the man fumble so much since meeting him and it was quite a refreshing sight. “Why? Are you about to drop another ridiculous rule on me and you’re just saying this to lessen the blow?” You huffed a bitter chuckle.

You could see his temper start to rise before he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “I’m saying this…” There was a slight edge to his voice before he opened his eyes again with a much more gentle demeanor. “—because I am tired of us butting heads.” He slumped into the backrest and you arched a brow. “And also because you were right.”

Okay. Something is seriously wrong.

”I thought it would be dangerous for you to train with professionals and be subjected to a room full of random men.” He limply turned his head your way while remaining melted into the cushions. “And yes, there will be other men there. All of my subordinates use this training center. It’s one of my most used gyms for my… industry.”

You scoffed. “Pft. ‘Industry’” You mocked with finger quotations.

He smirked. “Yes. Industry.” His face gradually returned to a more serious disposition. “There is also the matter of secrecy.” You nodded your head. Yeah, that made sense considering his occupation, but who were you going to tell? “Not saying I don’t trust you—“

”Why do you trust me?” You blurted, the question still buzzing around in your mind like an annoying pest. He furrowed his brows as if he didn’t understand. You continued. “Like, yeah, I get why you saved me now and all, but why do you trust ME?”

His brow slightly softened and he cleared his throat. “Y-you have given me no reason not to trust you. Why? Did you do something?” He said with a smirk.

You rolled your eyes. “No, asshole. It’s obvious to me that you should trust me, but you’re just going to take my word for it? You must be a really shitty spy.” He guffawed loudly, sitting up with a bright grin as he seemed like himself again.

”You haven’t seen what I can do, Tinkerbell.” You rolled your eyes, but you did find the notion intriguing.

”Oh yeah? What can you do?” You could see a spark light up in his eyes as he stared into your own and you had to gulp down the saliva that pooled in your mouth from the sight.

”Well…” He shifted to face you, elbow now propped up on the back of the couch. “You’ll get to see some of it when we train you.”

You felt your heart jolt. “When you train me?” You felt the corners of your mouth slowly lifting and his followed right behind.

”We leave at noon. Unless you’ve changed your mind?” He mused.

”No! No, I want to!” You looked at the clock. 11:30. Shit, he couldn’t have told you a little sooner? You sprang to your feet and he stood as well. “Just let me go change and I’ll meet you in the foyer.”

He just gave you a brief nod before turning on his heel and leaving you giddily buzzing in your skin.

__________________________________________

Somehow, you had plenty of options to choose from, but you opted for a simple T-shirt and joggers. Not the cutest, but who were you trying to impress?

A vision of Minho flashed in your mind and you reeled from the thought. Ugh. Why did my head think of HIM? In fact, why were you thinking so much about him in the first place? You chalked it up to it being from interacting more frequently nowadays. Yes. That must be it. You resolutely threw on a hoodie over your shirt and marched your way to the foyer.

“You ready? It won’t be easy.” He said from where he was leaned up against the staircase banister. You took in the sight of his workout attire, not really taking the time to fully appreciate it until now.

He wore a loose pair of sweatpants and an airy tank top that allowed you to gaze at his intricate sleeve of tattoos once more. He would almost look human if he hadn’t been blessed with his other-worldly beauty.

You blinked away the thoughts and gave a firm nod to him in response. “I don’t want easy. I want effective.”

He smirked and stood up straight when you approached. “We’ll see soon how confident you are in that statement.” You glared and he gestured his head. “C’mon, let’s go.”

Instead of heading out the front, he made his way further into the house. You furrowed your brows. “Where are the other guys? And where are you going?”

”Tsk. So many questions!” He mused and grinned at your responding scowl. “The guys are already there and, as to where we are going…” He stepped up to a large door located in the next room and opened the door for you to enter first, your face surely gawking at the luxury. You heard a chuckle from behind you. “Your reactions are always so adorable.” He smoothly teased.

EXCUSE ME?!

You whipped around and glared at him as he just continued walking past you. “Now…” He turned back to face you again. “Which one do you want to take?” He said plainly as he gestured to the plethora of extremely expensive cars.

The garage definitely looked like it belonged in a spy movie, but you were stumped. He said he was like a spy. Not a spy. Like a spy. You were still racking your brain as to what that meant.

Your eyes grazed over the fancy marble interior of the museum-like garage and the cars on display. How can someone have this much disposable income?

You didn’t know the first thing about cars, why did you have to pick?

When you just pointed to some random car, he raised his brows. “Really? The Rolls Royce?”

“Well, shit I dunno! Why do I need to pick? You obviously know more than I do when it comes to this!”

He cackled and led you closer to your chosen car. “Oh, I know waaay more than you, Tink.” You grumbled and he chuckled as he opened the door for you, letting you slide into the disgustingly luxurious vehicle.

”Why do you even have all of these cars? Don’t you have someone else to drive you?” He donned a cocky half-grin when he slipped into the driver seat.

”Sure, when I’m on business I do. But we are just going to train.”

In the blink of an eye, his face was directly in front of yours as he reached across you, eyes fixed on your seatbelt strap as he grasped the material. As soon as he stretched it across your body, he seemed to notice your surprise.

He froze, blinked at you rapidly, then quickly averted his gaze back down to the strap to buckle you in. He cleared his throat and gulped before starting the car. “Plus…” He added with a slightly strained voice. “It’s not nearly as fun riding as it is driving.”

__________________________________________

“Was the bag seriously necessary? Who would I even tell?!” You seethed as you threw the black, silky fabric at him.

Before you two even left the driveway, he forced you to shove your head in a stupid black hood so you “couldn’t know the location” once you left the estate later. You told him that it was unnecessary and stupid, but the man insisted.

You ripped the damned thing off as soon as he put the car in park.

”Have you forgotten what I told you? About my work? Why are you surprised with the secrecy?” He explained calm and composed as he discarded the bag in the car again.

”Well then blindfold me next time! I could barely breathe!” You were over exaggerating, of course. That material was extremely airy and breathable, you just wanted to feel superior to such treatment.

”Well excuse me, your highness…” He rolled his eyes as he pulled out his keys and walked up to the door of a large, nondescript, concrete building. Unlocking and opening the door for you, he gave you an exaggerated bow.

You narrowed your eyes at him as you passed the threshold, and marched into what looked like a massive gym complex of some sort.

However, the entire building was devoid of life. Of course that’s not including the seven familiar figures you saw fighting on the far end of the room. ”I thought you said all of your employees train here?” You said with an arched brow.

Minho passed you with a shrug. “Not today they don’t.” Well that answered nothing…

”Hey there, girly! Ready to get that blood pumping?”

”Calm down, Changbin. She is still going through therapy, remember?” Dr. Chris told the younger muscle man from where he was doing crazy heavy deadlifts off to the side.

”I know, I know, grandpa.” Changbin smirked at the doctor’s glare. “But just remember: ‘What hurts today makes you stronger tomorrow.’”

The other men groaned in tandem and you found yourself slightly smiling. “That’s a great motivational outlook, Changbin.” You said to the group as you watched Changbin’s face light up.

”Okay, enough, enough.” Minho declared. “Today’s training is obviously a bit different than usual.” He gestured vaguely at you. “We have a base level trainee and she needs to be trained from ground zero.” He gave you a side-eye and a cocky smirk. “Maybe even lower than that…”

”Hey!” You made a move to give him a lighthearted shove, and then was immediately reminded of what happened last time as his hand shot to your wrist to stop the action. You tried to free yourself, but his grip was like stone. “Let me go, asshole!”

”Make me.” He said as he suddenly faced you, pulling you closer. “Come on, show me. What would you do if you wanted to be released?”

You didn’t have an answer for him. Any move you could possibly make would be caught by his cat-like reflexes. You just challenged him with your eyes before his own softened, along with his grip on your wrist.

Just as your wrist was released he gave you a couple pats on the head. “Don’t worry Tinkerbell. I’m sure you will figure it out eventually.” You just about growled at him as he walked over to stand by Chris who was now seated on a bench nearby. “Channie-hyung and I are just here to observe and critique ALL of you, so do your best.” The man made an annoyed expression and waved the back of his hand in front of him. “Well? Get on with it!”

With that, you found yourself surrounded by six (frankly gorgeous) men looming over you.

“Hey! Back off! Don’t all go at her at once! I said ground zero you pabos!” Minho shouted from the sidelines before the others retreated and Changbin stepped in front of you.

”Calm down, Minho. This is what I’m here for.” You breathed in a resolute huff and nodded at Changbin. “I’m ready.”

__________________________________________

“Watch out for her arm!”

…

”Don’t actually try to hurt her, idiot!”

…

”That’s too rough!”

…

The entire training session Minho had shouted at each and every one of the men trying to teach me at least once and it was growing tiresome. “Why even let me train if I can’t even, I dunno, actually train???” You grumbled at the stubborn man as the group was taking a break. “I have legitimately learned nothing with the parameters you have set!”

”For real, hyung. You aren’t letting her show her full potential. She needs—“

Minho instantly cut Changbin off. “I will decide what is needed and I think that it would be better for her to just watch for now. It’s obvious that she is not ready.”

”WHA—?” You squealed with widened eyes and a disbelieving expression.

”Actually, I think she is doing quite well in her recovery…” Dr. Chris stated matter-of-factly where he stood next to the other six men drenched in sweat.

You watched Minho slowly turn his murderous expression to the doctor, but you stepped into his line of sight before he had the chance to retaliate. “Please let me continue… I promise I will take it easy, I just…” You looked down at your restless hands before returning your gaze to his blackened irises. “This is just really important to me…”

You watched as the man’s face minutely softened and glanced at the seven men around you that also awaited his instruction.

”Please?” You implored, not used to such pleading from your end. His eyes darted back to you before he moved to rub his temples with a sigh.

“Fine.” He groaned. “But base-line self defense only. We can move on to more advanced training once you have recovered a bit more.”

You don’t know why you felt such relief come over you. Maybe it was the satisfaction of even marginally getting through to him, but you let a wide grin escape as your body involuntarily moved to hug the man.

What the fuck?

Just as quickly as you embraced the man, you retreated just as fast with furiously heated cheeks. Why in the world did you do that? You were FAR from hugging terms with him! He probably just about shot you in the head from the unexpected touch!

However, you couldn’t help but notice the citrus and sandalwood scent emanating from his solid, warm body. His skin felt like flames against yours and you welcomed the heat. It didn’t last long, but the simple contact with him made your blood boil and quickly reddened your entire face.

When you pulled back and cleared your throat, you witnessed a millisecond of bewilderment on his stone-cold face before it was immediately schooled back into place (but that did nothing to cover up his bright red ears). “Th-thank you.” You mumbled before you escaped to the water fountain that was, blessedly, on the other side of the room. Never mind the fact you had a water bottle already with you by the group…

__________________________________________

By the time you and the rest of the boys finished (which was a very productive start if you do say so yourself), Minho had informed he was called in for an unexpected ‘business meeting’ across town and that training would finish early for the day as he needed to take a couple of his men with him.

You were a bit disappointed, but at least you got to do something. Which was more than you expected honestly.

As you requested, you were blindfolded for the car ride back instead of the stifling bag he donned you with on the way there, but you rode back with only five of his men instead.

You could feel all of their eyes on you as you rode in silence. Jeongin drove the unnecessarily expensive limousine, Changbin, and Hyunjin sat across from you, and Felix and Chan bracketed you on each side.

The silence was even more suffocating than the bag you wore earlier as you felt yourself start to become antsy. “For the love of god, please someone say something! I feel like I’m an exhibit in a museum right now.” You whined and buried your face in your hands (even though you couldn’t see anything anyway).

”And what a lovely piece of art you are, darling~” Hyunjin lilted before you heard a slap of skin and an over dramatic squawk from said man.

”Yah! Don’t be a creep!” You heard Changbin exclaim as the precious Felix giggled next to you.

”It was supposed to be a compliment!” You heard someone click their tongue before Chan decided to speak up.

”It’s interesting isn’t it…” He commanded the whole group’s attention with practiced ease and you quickly realized the hidden influence this man had over the lot of them. Which would make sense due to the fact that the doctor had probably saved most of, if not all of their lives at some point in time. “I haven’t seen or heard of Minho ever taking it easy on a trainee before… Most of them have to come see me even after their first session with him.”

”For real though, the man is ruthless with everyone else! He will even push them through the pain of broken bones!” Hyunjin exclaimed incredulously.

”He wants to make sure they are prepared through anything, even excruciating pain.” Jeongin stated simply from the driver’s seat.

Holy shit, these guys are no joke! “What the fuck? Why can’t he do the same with me?!” The entire car went dead silent in response. You could feel the annoyance creep into your bones. “Is it because I’m a girl? Seriously?!”

You heard Felix scoff next to you. “As if.” He sputtered in amusement. “The female trainees are some of the toughest among all of us.”

Then why?

”Maybe he just has a soft spot for you…” You heard Hyunjin mumble and you outright cackled at that one.

”Are you kidding?! Have you seen the way he treats me??” You question with an incredulous chuckle.

“You never knooow~” Hyunjin stated with a teasing lilt to his voice before you heard another smack.

And before another word could be said, your blindfold was removed and you were ushered into the estate once more.

A soft spot? What a joke.

__________________________________________

I hope you guys are happy with the turn-around. 😏

I’ve missed you all so dearly and I apologize for the wait. 🥺 I would say that the next part will come out sooner, but I don’t want to guarantee that if life decides to fuck with me some more. 🙃

As always, please like, follow, and share!

Thanks baby Stays! Love you and missed you guys! 💋😽💋

And of course my squad and tag list:

@lyramundana

@channieandhisgoonsquad

@moonlightndaydreams

@queenmea604

@sweetracha

@rylea08

@maknaeswrld

2chopsticks2eyes - Masterlist

[crappymixtape]

among the stars • part three

PART I • PART II • PART III • PART IV • PART V • PART VI ❝ summer ended and everyone went back to school or to indianapolis for ‘real’ jobs – steve’s friends practically begged him to come to the city with them at the end of the summer, couch surf in their apartment until he finds work, but he decides to stay until one rainy night in october something happens – someone happens – and it changes the course of his life forever • 18+ | ( 3k, strangers to lovers, angst, fluff, smut, extraterrestrials, steve x reader )

H O P E L E S S F U L 🎶 earthing, vanbur

“I don’t know? Something about light years or–no, dumbass. Does it look like I watch Star Trek? Okay, okay. Sorry.”

Steve Harrington leaned against the wall of the room he’d deemed ‘the kitchen’, talking into a long, corded, communication device. There was a friend of his that might be able to help, one Dustin Henderson, but the way he was talking to him now didn’t sound very friendly at all.

The sun had risen and set twice since you’d crashed, the days here much shorter than home, and a sinking feeling had grown in the pit of your stomach.

At first you’d been encouraged by Steve’s blinding optimism, hopeful that maybe he’d be able to help you repair your comm link or at least sort through the crash to find something useful, but all your things had turned to ash and he barely knew how to adjust the settings on his own rudimentary time piece. Over the course of two short days your hope had dwindled.

Maybe you would never go home.

Glancing up at Steve, you caught him looking at the same time, and his cheeks flushed as he dropped his gaze, his voice lowering. Quiet.

“No, no. It’s fine. We’ll meet you over at Robin’s. Alright.” Hanging the corded device on its base, he gave you a flicker of a smile, his hand rubbing at the back of his neck, “Dustin says he might be able to help.”

You watched with wide, expectant eyes and his cheeks grew pink again.

“So–uh–we’re gonna meet up with him. See what we can figure out.”

“And who is Robin?” you asked, legs neatly tucked under you, sat with perfect posture in an old armchair.

“Oh, well–Robin’s my best friend.”

“Best friend?” your brow furrowed as you considered his words. “Is this like a life partner? One you procreate with?”

If Steve’s cheeks had looked red before, they were positively scarlet now.

“No–oh, Christ. No, I don’t have a–a life partner. Or kids–er–at least not my own kids,” he stumbled over his words, eyes glued to the floor as he walked toward the front entry. “C’mon, we should go.”

You stood from the chair, watching as he grew increasingly uncomfortable, your head tilted, considering him. “Have I offended you, Steve Harrington?”

He paused, hand on the door knob, and looked over his shoulder at you, a rough chuckle falling from his lips, “No, you haven’t offended me.” The expression on his face softened, warm amber eyes meeting yours, “You don’t have to use my full name. Just call me, Steve.”

“But isn’t that your name? Steve Harrington?”

Another laugh rumbled in his chest and your skin warmed at the sound.

“Well, yeah, but–“ his words melted into a hum of thought, and his hand fell away from the door as he turned to face you. “Here, why don’t you tell me your name?”

“I am Aerus-4,” pulling at the neck of your flight suit, you tugged it down to show the markings tattooed along your collarbone. Steve’s lips parted, but nothing came out. “Our titles are given at birth,” you explained, watching as slowly Steve closed his mouth, “The first is our planet and the second is our sector.”

“What do your friends call you?” he wondered and it was your turn to give him a look of confusion.

“Aerus-4,” you repeated.

Steve chuckled again and warmth bloomed in your chest, “We give each other nicknames here. Like shorter, better versions of the stupid names our parents give us.”

“Nicknames?”

“Yeah. Like, my full name is Steven Michael Harrington, but my friends call me Steve.”

“Just Steve,” you echoed, and he beamed, but it hit you quickly that you didn’t have a nickname because this place wasn’t home and you didn’t fit here. You didn’t want to be here.

The brilliant turquoise of your hair faded to a washed out grey.

“Oh,” Steve breathed, hand outstretched as he took a step forward.

“I am Aerus-4 and you are Steve. Just Steve,” you said, stepping around him toward the door, “And it would be disrespectful to keep your ‘best friend’ waiting.”

OH MY LIGHT TRIPS IS IT ON FIRE, IS IT COLD?

The method of transportation on Earth was archaic, you thought, as Steve navigated the way to Robin Buckley’s. There were no teleport stations and everything moved on wheels and required constant refueling. Basic public hovertram systems weren’t even available and it took forever to get from one side of Hawkins to the other.

Steve messed with a set of dials on his control panel the entire drive, making the sound coming from the comm system scratch and change between different people’s voices. You didn’t like any of it at first, but then he started singing along to the one he finally settled on, and it grew on you, soft and slow like a seed planted between your ribs.

“All my instincts, they return, and the grand facade, so soon will burn. Without a noise, without my pride, I reach out from the insiiide,” Steve sang softly under his breath along with the man on the other end. The sound was low and warm, settled in your ears and sent a zip of electricity through your limbs.

Clearing your throat, you shook your head as if to shake his voice from where it’d curled up at the back of your mind.

“Is this some kind of simultaneous comms transmission?” you asked, and it pulled Steve’s eyes from the road, brows pinched together in confusion.

“What, the radio?” he asked.

“Yes, the man on the other end is saying exactly what you’re saying.”

The corner of Steve’s mouth tugged up in a lopsided grin, “No, this is music. One of my favorites, actually. His name is Peter Gabriel.”

“This is music?” you asked incredulously, “This is nothing like music on Aesa.”

That made Steve laugh and you couldn’t help but smile, the sight squeezing dimples into Steve’s cheeks, and your skin grew warm again.

“To each their own,” Steve parried, then softened, “Smiling looks nice on you, should do it more.”

You dropped your gaze to your lap at the sudden attention, hair flushing a soft pink color as Steve bumped off the road and into the driveway of a small residence.

It was made of brick, moss clinging to the north side of the roof, and surrounded by a waist high, white, wooden fence. You weren’t sure what the point of it was, as it certainly wouldn’t do anything for protection, but a beep from the control panel pulled your attention back to the present.

“We’re here,” Steve nodded toward the small building and the door opened to reveal not only Best Friend Robin, but four others as well.

Your pulse quickened in your neck, your flight suit pinging a warning and sending red currents pulsing through the fabric.

“Are you–is something wrong?” Steve leaned in toward you, hand hovering at your forearm, expression curved in worry, and you shook your head.

“No. My suit needs to be serviced,” you lied, but he bought it and murmured a small sound of acknowledgement before climbing out and leaving you to panic.

“Oh my, god,” a taller girl with short, blonde hair gushed, hands clasped over her mouth. A shorter boy with twists of brown curls shoved her aside to get a better look and revealed another girl with brilliant orange hair, arms wrapped around a tall boy with rich, deep brown skin.

They were all talking over each other in an instant.

“…hair so pretty…”

“…they’re purple?”

“…not from here.”

Their words sent your hair racing through a shimmering rainbow of colors, unable to pinpoint what emotion squeezed tightly around you and freezing you to your seat until Steve appeared at your window.

“Hey,” he tapped at the glass and opened your door slowly, “It’s okay. They’re my friends. They’re here to help.”

You swallowed the uncertainty crawling up your throat, thoughts drifting to darker stories you’d heard back home. Stories of people from Tyr-9 being abducted and imprisoned on other planets. Subjected to experiments, research, torture…or worse.

A hand pressed into yours and you gasped at the sudden physical contact, eyes flicking down to find Steve’s thumb smoothing gently over the bump of your knuckles.

“Hey,” he said again, softer, and it pulled your eyes up to look into his. Bright, brilliant pools of amber, warm and gold like sunsets back home and the color of your hair melted into a deep gold. Calm. Ease.

Trust.

“I promise I won’t let anyone hurt you,” he said, and in that moment you didn’t know why, you had absolutely no reason to, but you believed him. Despite his lack of weapons and poorly made clothing, you knew he meant what he’d said.

“Okay,” you whispered, and let him lead you from the car and into the house.

OH MY HEART SLIPS DO I NEED YOU, LOVE?

Robin Buckley’s home was furnished much the same as Steve’s, she even had what looked like was a matching arm chair, just as old as his. It was modest, cozy and simple, and not threatening, but your instincts had your hand ready at your side, one quick reach away from your dagger.

Steve led to you a larger sofa and sat down next to you, recounting the storm and the crash to everyone while they lingered in front of you both, sitting or standing, andstaring. There was, of course, Robin Buckley, Dustin Henderson, the one who would help, Max Mayfield and her boyfriend Lucas Sinclair.

“–shoulder was injured. It looked really bad yesterday, but it seems to be healing fast. Like really fast.”

You turned to see Steve gesturing at the exposed swatch of skin at your shoulder where your suit had ripped, the gash nearly closed, and you quickly pulled your hair over it.

“Er-sorry,” Steve stuttered, and you let your gaze drop to your lap.

“Is there something wrong?” you asked quietly, and Steve quickly shook his head.

“No! No, you just…that cut on your shoulder looks like a scratch now and it’s only been a couple of days. It should’ve needed stitches.”

You looked up at the four sets of eyes studying you, your thigh pressed to Steve’s.

“We just mean you’re healing very fast. Faster than we do here on Earth,” Dustin added gently and you glanced over at Steve who gave you a small reassuring smile.

“And you don’t need to sit around in those old clothes,” Robin chimed in, the smile on her face warm and kind, “You can totally borrow a hoodie and some jeans or whatever you need. We look like we’re close to the same size.”

“Why didn’t I think of that?” Steve muttered and Dustin snorted.

“Because you have a one-track mind.”

“Watch it, Henderson.”

“What? You do.”

“He’s not wrong,” Max agreed with a shrug.

Steve folded his arms over his chest with a grumble, “Can we please just tell us what the hell we’re gonna do?”

“Right,” Dustin clapped his hands, and you jumped at the sudden sound, but Steve took your hand again.

It’s okay.

“Let’s start with what we know,” the boy pulled a large pad of paper into the room on an easel. “The ship isn’t functional anymore, so getting in and flying back isn’t an option,” he scratched a black mark over a line of writing and it made your stomach twist. “We also can’t repair it, I don’t even know where we’d get parts,” he added, scratching over the next line and it made your hair flicker between dark purple and navy blue. “But!” he added, pointing at the third line of writing, “Comms are definitely an option.”

“Comms?” Robin asked skeptically, hands planted on her hips.

“Yes. I’m sure your technology is more advanced than ours,” Dustin said looking at you, and the nod and eye roll you gave him back earned you a laugh. “Okay, much more advanced than ours,” he amended, and you couldn’t help a small smile, “But the basics still apply.”

Turning to the pad of paper he flipped to the next page to reveal a poorly drawn spire with discs and antenna's and a small control panel.

“I’m almost positive Cerebro II can get a signal out past the thermosphere, if not right into the exosphere.”

“In English, dickhead,” Steve grumbled and Dustin kept going, completely unbothered.

“It can send radio waves into space, which is the best chance we have of someone picking up our signal. It’d have to be rudimentary. You know, like, single words or phrases? But it’d be enough to get anyone within range’s attention.”

Your heart hammered against your ribcage at the thought of reaching the others from your party. Even if it was just coordinates they would be close enough to pinpoint your location and–

Bring you home.

“Can we go now?” you cut in, startling everyone and pulling their eyes to you, and your hair flushed pink again.

Dustin gave you a big, toothy smile, “If the sky’s are clear, we’ll go tonight.”

Steve’s fingers squeezed at yours before quickly letting go, tucking his hands into his lap and scooting away from you, taking his warmth with him.

“That’s perfect. Great–really great–we’ll be ready,” he said with a flicker of a smile, but you detected dishonesty from him. Why would he lie? But before you could give it another thought, the couch sunk down next to you when Robin filled his spot.

“C’mon, let’s get this gross thing off you,” she said, nose crinkling up at how dirty your flight suit was, covered in ash and burns and tears.

You immediately looked to Steve, help, and it pulled him out of his thoughts.

“Oh–yeah,” he added, standing with Robin, “I’ll be right outside the door, hm?”

Robin held a hand out to you and you gave Steve one more look, Is it safe? And he nodded gently, encouraging, and you took her hand as she eagerly pulled you down the hallway to her room, Steve hurrying to catch up.

YOU WERE BORN EARTHING, EARTHING.

She’d been right. You and Robin were almost the exact same size, just a touch shorter than she was. She and Steve had waited out in the hallway, giving your privacy to change, and as you stood looking at yourself in the mirror, you wondered how anyone did anything here with clothes like this.

Robin had given you a dark green hoodie and it fit well, as did her black pants and shoes, but you felt weird, uncomfortable, vulnerable to the elements. Your locks of hair had faded back to their usual turquoise, your purple skin in stark contrast with the green fabric running down your arms. When your eyes trailed down your legs, you shook your head – pants full of holes? What was the point?

Knock, knock, knock.

“Hey, you okay in there?” Steve’s voice came through the door and you opened it with a scowl on your lips, startling them both.

“Robin Buckley, your pants are full of holes,” you stated very seriously and she gave you a just as serious look back.

“That’s how they’re supposed to be.”

You both stared at each other for a long second, neither breaking face, and Steve’s eyes flicked back and forth between you.

“Oookay. Looks great! Thanks, Robs,” he said, slicing the awkward silence in half. Then, taking your hand, he tugged you back out to the front room only for you to find it empty.

“Has Dustin Henderson left already?” you asked, panic crawling up your throat. What if you missed it?

“No, no,” Steve assured you, “He took Max and Lucas up to Weathertop so they can run a few tests.”

“What is a Weathertop?”

“Oh, it’s the hill where he keeps Cerebro II.”

Your brain swirled, fuzzy, hazy.

Cerebro II. Weathertop. Robin Buckley. Earth. Dustin Henderson. Flying isn’t an option. Healed too fast. Purple skin and turquoise hair and not from here and–

“Whoa, hey, it’s okay–”

“No! It’s not, Steve Harrington!” you cut his words in two and he recoiled as your hair bled into a deep, bruising violet, “It’s not okay!” Your chest constricted, too tight as you struggled to pull air into your lungs. “I’m not okay, this is not okay. I’m never going to get home and I’m stuck on this planet where–where nothing makes sense and–”

“But–”

“–and I don’t have a–a nickname! And I’m not like you! Or your friends! It’s hopeless,” your voice cracked, tears stinging at the corners of your eyes.

“It’s not hopeless,” Steve said quietly, gently taking your chin between his fingers and tilting it up so that your eyes met his. “At least not yet,” he added earnestly.

Your tears welled against the line of your lashes and despite your efforts, you blinked and they spilled over, tracing slow tracks through the freckles chasing across your cheeks. You were determined, stoic, silent, unwavering and still and he was…everything you weren’t. Soft, but strong, brave, but vulnerable, steady, but willing to shift.

Sweeping your tears away with the pad of his thumb, Steve wiped them on his sleeve. “Can I give you a nickname?” he asked, and it pulled your gaze up again. Amber eyes. Pools of gold. Warm. Safe.

“But we’re not friends, Steve Harrington.”

“Sure we are,” he countered, then added softly, “How about Ru? Is it okay if I call you that?”

“Ru?” you echoed and he smiled.

“Yeah. Ru, short for Aerus.”

The corner of your mouth flickered and tugged up, the vice squeezing at your chest slowly spinning loose.

“Ru,” you said again, smiling, and Steve grinned.

“Nice to meet you, Ru. Friends?” he stuck his hand out to you and you took it.

“Friends.”

[ NOTE: THIS IS PART TWO OF A ??? PART SERIES – MORE TO COME SOON ]

crappymixtape™ • steve harrington masterlist // stranger things masterlist♥️ reblogs and comments keep me going, friends! ily! ♥️

[the-record]

COWBOYS LIKE YOU

SYNOPSIS: you should stop letting her through that door

PAIRING: cowboy!abby x reader

WARNINGS: a touch of homophobia

A/N: this isnt great, and makes me sad, but i like it!! trying to be a little less dialogue focused

my masterlist

“do you have to go?” your voice is soft as abby lets the question linger in the air. “i hate it when you leave. its lonely.”

her fingers slide carefully up and down your arm and she sighs. “im sorry angel.” abby wraps her arms around you and pulls tight, trying to get you as close as possible. “you know it ain’t safe for us out there though.”

you knew she was right, seen first hand just what people think about sappho and her friends. felt the rage and anger that came when two women who just loved each other.

these nights with her were nice. the sun still going down and the heat with it. crickets started their song and birds finishing theirs. you had pulled the sheets up halfway when it cooled, the sweat on yalls skin disappearing with the breeze.

abbys nails were kept short always, but theyd begin to grow out and were gently scratching at your skin. her hair had finally grown out again and you twisted it around your fingers.

when you’d found her that night, you had to bring her back. clean up her hair, her wounds, her clothes. you couldnt leave a sweet thing like her out in the cold to die. or the boy that was with her. you never did see him again, but it meant more time just you and her.

“i can stay one more day. but then i ought to get back on.” she pressed a sweet kiss to your forehead. “you get some rest now, let me make us somethin’ warm and good for dinner.” you whine as she untangles herself from you, but only laughs before leaving the room.

you don’t remember when you nodded off, but you do remember waking up to something smelling good. she stumbled in with a tray full of plates and cups. she smiled when she saw you sit up.

“well good mornin’ sunshine.” you rolled your eyes as abby settled in beside you. “now, no more of that attitude, not when i made you somethin’ nice.”

you scoffed, crossing your arms over your chest. “now i know good and well that you, abby anderson, are not talking.” she returned the eye roll, albeit not very well. “now what is on my menu tonight mrs anderson?”

abby always left without warning, but it didn’t make it hurt any less. but you always managed to make a move on from her, prepared with the fact that she may never be back for you.

you tended to the farm, your cows. made breakfast and dinner each and every day, sweet tea and lemonade for the hot afternoons. you did afternoon tea in the ladies parlor on saturdays and church on sundays. you kept on the way you always did, never missing a beat.

until a fateful cool evening when someone came knocking on your screen, scaring you half to death as you stirred beside the stove. you sighed as you made your way to the door, wiping your hands on the apron you had on.

you nearly tripped over your own feet seeing abby at your door. took everything in you not to rush and pull her in.

she was different than when you last saw her. new clothes, hair in a loose braid, cuts and blood all over. but you didn’t yet even open the door, she had much to say first.

“before i even start, know how sorry i am. know i didnt mean for it to be this long.” she winced as she leaned on her other leg. “i wanted to come, truly i did, but ive been running all over hell’s half acre. i had business.”

you huffed, pulling the door open and taking her with you to the kitchen. “im so sorry angel, please talk to me.” you sat her down on a stool before heading back to your dinner. “what do i need to do to make it all better?”

she quieted down when you didnt respond, watching you cook. she always loved watching you do household things. made her feel right at home again.

she smiled when you sat her bowl down infront of her, stopping and staring with a frown. she wanted to tell you how pretty you were but held off, you scared her quiet a bit. her hands moved to your hips but you slapped them away and grabbed the wet rag she hadnt noticed.

“eat your damn food.” she slowly spooned the meal into her mouth as you wiped at the old cuts on her face. she winced and pulled away but you pulled back. “stop movin’ when im tryna fix you up.” she nodded as softly as possible.

when you finished, you took the rag and half finished plate with you, pulling the fork from abbys mouth. “go wash up, you will not be dirty in my house.” she nodded, though you weren’t looking, and left to the bathroom.

the plate sat on the counter as you heard her harsh steps up your stairs. you held your head in your hands and took a shaky breath.

you didnt expect her to come back. figured it was final this time. and you certainly didnt expect her at your door like that. you had to pull it together though, couldnt let her see you like this.

you washed up and wiped the kitched till it was spotless before heading upstairs to abby. she was still sitting tending to her wounds when you found her. “you’re doing it wrong.” she dropped what she was doing and slouched. “let me.”

you were gentle with your touch, knowing it was always what she needed. she lived such a hard life that sometimes she needed a gentle touch, some loving. “what in the god damn world did you get yourself into this time?” abby sniffed and you looked up for the first time.

“i hate going out there. i dont wanna anymore.” you hushed her, pulled her close. “can i stay?”

“you can do whatever you want.” you kissed her face, running your fingers through her hair. “im here no matter what you decide.” she nodded and squeezed your hand. “now let me fix up these stitches. you have no idea what your doing. bless your heart.” she laughed softly and you copied. “seriously though, sit still for me.”

“im sorry i always leave.”

it was a quiet night. crickets too tired to so much as hum, and the cow sleeping to forget the chill of the dark. the house had a chill but you and abby huddled to ignore it. it was peaceful. you missed this peace.

you hummed in response, leaning on her chest to see her face. “so don’t.” but she said nothing. did nothing. “abby…”

she shook her head. “im sorry.”

[jetblack4realz]

lake days vii - jake "hangman" seresin x reader

summary - after the mission, you and the dagger squad take it back to texas ;)

pt i , pt ii , pt iii , pt iv , pt v , pt vi

warnings - no

word count - 3.8k

______________________________________________________________

you weren't surprised when maverick chose bradley and then fanboy and payback. they worked well together and as you'd all come to learn, you and rooster did not. you didn't exactly know why, but you all knew it wasn't going to work. and well, you knew maverick couldn't trust jake. it was hard for anybody but you to trust jake.

and so you were content sitting back in the radio room, waiting for their two minute timer to go up and them to come home. you walked phoenix out to her jet with a smile, clapping her on the back and giving her a quick hug before she climbed into the front seat, bob already seated behind her.

when you went to see jake, who was waiting in his own f-14 in case they needed help, you were stopped by rooster.

"hey," he breathed out.

you smiled at him. "hi."

"look, i don't know if i'm coming back from this and i just wanted to say that i'm sorry and that i-"

"it's okay," you laughed lightly. you rested a hand on his arm assuredly. "don't worry. sure, it was frustrating in the moment - or moments, but i know you're a good pilot and you weren't doing it on purpose. we're good brad."

"good. thank you," he said.

"anytime. we're friends for a reason, aren't we?" you asked. his expression changed slightly and you were frustrated to have seen it, but you continued anyways. "good luck."

you patted his shoulder and passed him, heading for where jake was waiting for you outside his jet. as you approached, you wanted nothing more than to wrap your arms around him, something you'd grown accustomed to over your time together. but, you couldn't and you were really starting to hate it.

it seemed like you two were on the same page.

"now would be the perfect time to out ourselves," he mumbled with a slight frown. "i still don't like the way bradshaw's lookin' at you."

"well, he's officially been friendzoned, so it's fine," you answered. "and honestly, i really don't think now's the time to get in his head. he's got a mission to complete, and as much as you seem to hate him, even you want to see him come home."

he sighed dramatically before nodding. "yeah, you're right."

you watched him carefully, brows furrowing slowly. "this really bothers you, doesn't it?"

"well, yeah, hell it's kinda killing me," he answered, looking passed you and to where bradley was getting in his own jet. "he shouldn't be allowed to look at you like that."

"hey," you said quickly, raising a hand to his cheek to pull his attention back to you. you smiled softly, finger brushing his cheekbone. "even if he is looking at me like that, it doesn't matter. i ain't lookin' at him, i'm only looking at you, baby."

he caught your wrist in his calloused hand, his face still stoic as he nodded. "yeah. alright."

"trust me, honey," you told him, pulling you hand away after catching sight of maverick walking onto the runway. "we'll get one hell of a reaction when we finally let it out. i think coyote's reaction alone will be worth all of this."

"i'm betting on phoenix," he said with a smirk. "she keeps talking 'bout how i should really back off of you now, that you want nothing to do with me. it'll whack her right upside the head when she learns that you're marrying me."

"i think she might have a heart attack," you laughed. an announcement echoed over the loudspeakers and you sighed, glancing up at jake's plane with his callsign inscribed on the side. "stay safe. don't break protocol, okay? only go in if you have to."

"promise darlin'," he told you, a lopsided grin pulling at his lips. "i wouldn't do anything to risk leaving you."

"good," you answered. "i'll see you later?"

"you will," he affirmed with a reassuring smile, reaching out to squeeze your hand gently. "go on, you gotta get back inside."

"okay. i love you."

"i love you too, darlin'."

and then you were off.

and then they were off.

hearing maverick get taken down over the radio terrified you, and as you heard phoenix yelling at rooster to not do anything, you had a sinking feeling in your stomach that he would. and he did. when bradley went down you gasped, hand covering your mouth as tears pricked your eyes. coyote put a hand on your shoulder, watching the radio as if it would suddenly say that both your instructor and your flight school best friend were back in the air, but you both knew it wouldn't.

"permission to fly out," jake said insistently, three separate times, each getting progressively more desperate, but he was denied each time.

you were both pissed and intensely grateful. you couldn't take it if you lost him, especially after already losing bradley.

you were muttering quiet prayers as you paced the halls, hours after phoenix and the other boys returned. you'd resorted to walking the ship, not able to get ahold of or find jake, so you didn't hear when maverick and rooster clicked on their locators. and you didn't hear that jake got sent out to save their asses.

"coyote!" you yelled, brows furrowed as everyone rushed down onto the tarmac. "what the hell is happening?"

"they're coming back!"

"who?"

he grinned, ushering you along with him with a wave of his hand. "maverick and rooster!"

"what the hell?" you asked, a smile spreading across his lips as he grabbed your arm, beginning to pull you down the stairs and towards the runway. "how'd they get back?"

"a bag of ass f-14," he told you as you threw the doors open to follow the crowd of cheering people. "caught some bogies and we thought they were gonna go down again, but hangman shot out the last one."

"jake went out?" you cried, brows furrowing as you searched the crowd for where you knew your fiance would be grinning and accepting claps on the back.

"yeah," he laughed, following you into the sea of people. "that's his second live kill. he's a legend."

"mav's a legend!" phoenix corrected as she found your side. "he's an ace now."

"no shit!" you exclaimed with an excited laugh as you glanced at the girl. "he is a legend!" your eyes returned to the crowd and suddenly your face fell, your feet carrying you forward even quicker than you were already moving. "holy hell."

you flung yourself into jake's arms, gasping quietly in his ear as he chuckled heartily.

"miss me, sweetheart?" he asked with a grin when you pulled back.

"you didn't tell me you went out," you said with a narrowed gaze.

"it was last minute. i didn't know mav and rooster were coming back so soon," he defended, hands in the air.

"could've radio'ed me," you muttered.

"i'm sorry," he sighed before a small grin creeped onto his lips. "but aren't you proud of me? that's two."

you laughed lightly, settling back on one foot as you crossed your arms over your chest. "yes, i'm very proud of you hangman."

another voice caught your attention.

of course, it was bradley, but to both yours and jake's surprise, he wasn't calling for you - he was calling for jake.

you stepped back, allowing the two men to shake hands with the most camaraderie you'd ever seen from them.

"thank you," bradley told him, a certain genuine tone to his words. jake grinned widely.

"anytime, rooster."

bradley's eyes fell to you for a moment and you offered him a smile.

"i'm glad you're home safe, bradley," you told him.

he hesitated for a few moments before he opened his mouth, his brows furrowed slightly. "y/n, i-"

"bradley!"

maverick had perfect timing, you decided. the two hugged and it was an awfully sweet moment, one you were happy to clap for, jake and phoenix coming to your sides and doing the same.

"so, this is our group now?" you asked with a grin as maverick addressed the lot of you. "the dagger squad?"

"yep," mav answered. "you'll stay stationed here in miramar, all of you. you're my team now."

"sick," fanboy laughed, leaning back in his chair.

"and our first order of business," maverick continued, walking down the length of the hangar that served as the classroom. he grinned as he looked at hangman and rooster. "beach day."

"what do you have against the beach, bronco?" phoenix asked with a laugh as she pushed you towards where fanboy had set up a few umbrellas.

"nothing," you answered, dropping your cooler of beers on the sand and letting the boys unpack it into their own hands. "there's just not much to do."

"not much to do?" coyote almost sounded offended at the prospect. he gestured to the beautiful oceanside. "look at this! there's a whole world of things to do!"

"like what?" you asked, hand on your hip as you chuckled at your friends. "we do the same things every saturday. volleyball, football, tan, eat, fall asleep, watch rooster build sandcastles, and repeat. not much else."

"and what's wrong with that?" rooster asked with raised brows.

you laughed as you popped the tab of your own beer. "i have nothing against the beach, guys. it is fun hanging out with y'all. i'm just more of a lake girl myself."

"what can you do at a lake that we don't do at the beach?" coyote asked.

"bronco here has a boat," hangman answered for you, grabbing your beer and taking a swig of it with a smirk. "and damn does she love her boat."

"what do you have a boat for?" rooster asked.

"lake days!" you exclaimed with a laugh. "i grew up boating and trust me, it's so much better. have y'all never been on a boat?"

"just the carrier," phoenix hummed. the rest of them shrugged.

"you're in the navy!" you exclaimed, looking at them with wide eyes.

"we don't hang out on boats, bronco, we just land on them," rooster said with a goofy grin.

"that's a shame," hangman said, his smile wide. "boats are a good time."

"and how would you know that, hangman?" phoenix asked. "and how did you know bronco's got a boat?"

"i've been out on her boat, and let me tell you her family is wild for water sports," he laughed. the team stared at y'all in surprise. "what?"

"you hung out with her family?" bob asked.

"we were both stationed back home in texas. i thought i'd invite him out, what's the big deal?" you asked.

"well, when are we getting invited out too?" coyote asked. "i'd like to see what all the fuss is about."

"well, next time y'all are in texas give me a shout," you said with a grin. "i'd be happy to take you out."

you didn't know exactly how it happened, with a bit of jake's coercion you were sure, but you'd managed to plan a memorial day lake trip, convincing your friends to buy cheap $60 plane tickets and stay with you. admiral simpson had surprisingly allowed y'all an extra two days off, making the five day weekend more worth the trip.

"welcome to texas everybody," you said with a smile as you walked out of the airport towards the parking lot.

"home sweet home," jake said, jogging to catch up to you as two large trucks pulled up, hooting and hollering coming from them. "if it ain't mr. l/n!"

"jake seresin!" you dad laughed through the rolled down window. "throw your things in the back and get in, i wanna hear all about your adventures in fightertown."

"i can't tell you much more than your girl here can," he said with a grin.

"she'll be preoccupied with her brothers. get on in, son."

the daggers stared at each other in pure shock - since when had hangman been so close with bronco's family?

"how's your parents?"

and her family with his?

"what else aren't you telling us, bronco?" rooster asked with raised brows. you smiled innocently.

"whatever do you mean, roo?" your grin returned as you approached the other truck, whooping as the window rolled down. "gideon! how's life?"

"hey bradshaw!" hangman caught the man's attention quickly. "get in the truck! you too trace!"

"nah," phoenix said with a smirk. "i'm going with bronco and her fine-ass brother."

the daggers filed into the two trucks, their duffles in the beds as your brother tore out, your dad on his tail as you all made your way back home to the l/n house.

hangman was the first to greet your mother when you walked in, you having approached your father for the first time since you arrived. he pressed a cheek to the older woman's cheek, earning a smile and pat on the arm.

"how are you jake?" she asked as he moved around her to set his bag on the floor beside the island.

"wonderful now that i'm back in texas," he answered truthfully. "y'all gonna be joining us tomorrow?"

"no, no," she said with a wave of her hand. "you guys should have fun without us dragging your party down."

"nah, you're one hell of a party mrs. l/n," he told her with a grin.

"what the hell is going on?" phoenix whispered to bradley for the nth time today.

"i have no clue," he whispered back.

"well, guys, my place is just down the back way if you want to follow me," you called. "don't worry, we'll be back for dinner later. i just want to get your spots set up."

"you don't live here?" bob asked, looking around the large house as you chuckled.

"nah, i built a cute little place just down the road when i was in college. still on the property, just my own," you answered. you grabbed your keys from your pocket, exiting out the back door with the rest of the daggers following you.

"want me to drive?" jake offered, holding his hand out for the keys.

"she's your baby, ain't she?" you asked, tossing them to him as you approached a gorgeous vintage ford f-150. it was a beautiful blue color and in as best a condition as jake could get it in your short visits back home.

"nice truck bronco," payback said, admiring the car.

"thanks," you laughed, climbing in the bed, sitting on the edge as hangman got in the driver's side. at this point, everyone was tired of asking questions, payback ending it with a stern, "you're telling us what's going on later."

bob, phoenix, and rooster joined hangman in the cab whilst payback, fanboy, and coyote sat in the bed with you, hangman pulling out of the back driveway and down a well-worn dirt road towards your humble home.

except it wasn't exactly humble. it was two stories and the picture of a perfect farm house, finished with a wraparound porch and beautiful white shutters.

"woah," coyote mumbled. "i didn't know it was this nice."

as you all carried your bags inside, you started explaining.

"my parents had a deal with us kids," you started. "we could have property out here if we built the place. so, when i wasn't paying off student loans, i was paying for this beauty to get built. i didn't think i'd be joining the navy at the time and was getting ready for a family. and well, you know, plans change. means i've got enough space for y'all. phoenix, you've got a room down here, there's two twins in the other one, and the rest of y'all get air mattresses."

it didn't go unnoticed how jake brought his things upstairs or how he knew where you kept the air mattresses. it didn't pass them by how he hung his keys up on the cowboy hat hanger by the door as if he'd done it a million times or how he mumbled to you something about groceries.

"damn hangman, i knew you liked her, but i didn't think y'all were actually a thing," coyote said with a laugh once you and phoenix had gone to unpack your things. hangman shrugged, leaning against the counter.

"who said we were?"

"everything about this whole situation," payback laughed, gesturing to the room in a circular motion. "you're all close with her family, know her house like the back of your hand, and somehow have rights to drive her freaking beautiful truck?"

"hey, i fixed up that freaking beautiful truck," jake said, pointing at him with raised brows. "of course i get to drive it."

"you fixed it for her?" bradley asked with raised brows.

"'course i did," jake answered, crossing his arms over his chest. "you seen her with a bag of tools? great pilot, terrible mechanic, that girl."

"can't say we would know," bradley answered, looking terribly displeased with everything that was coming out of jake's mouth.

"and why, exactly, do you?" coyote asked with raised brows.

"spent over a year with her," he answered with a shrug. "you learn things."

"and her family?"

"what about 'em?"

"why do you know them so well?"

"you know bronco, she's very charitable. when she learned i didn't have any family nearby she invited me over and it became a recurring thing because i got on well with a few of her brothers. that is the answer to all of your questions, ok?" jake said with a roll of his eyes. he pushed off the counter. "i'm gonna go unpack, i suggest you boys do the same."

"so, what's with you and hangman?" phoenix asked as she pulled a few swimsuits from her bag and placed them in the top drawer. "why does he know this place like the back of his hand?"

"i told you, he's been here for lake days," you shrugged. "no big deal."

"i don't believe that for a second," she laughed, staring you down for a few moments. "and what do you have to say for your truck - or is it 'his baby'?"

"he helped me pick it out when we were last here and fixed it up for me," you said with a wave of your hand. "no big deal."

"and how his things are upstairs and he knows your house like it's his own-?"

"shut up, phoenix," you laughed. "hurry up so we can eat dinner."

dinner with your family was rambunctious, your brothers and their wives joining you all to meet your navy family. your nieces and nephews were excited to meet the aviators, clinging to their legs and asking them a million questions a minute. you could tell that rooster and bob loved it, coyote more than okay with entertaining the four year old eli with his plane stories. your second youngest niece, kayley, refused to leave jake, though.

"come on kaykay, all i want is a hug," you whined, holding your arms out to the three year old as everyone worked on their burgers. she scrunched her face and shook her head, hugging jake around the chest as he laughed.

"told you i'm her favorite," he teased you with a wink. he turned the girl around in his arms, requesting she eat more of her potato salad to which she agreed.

"so, how long have you all known jake?" phoenix asked with a smile, eyeing the man at the other end of the table.

"oh, it's been, what, five, six years?" your dad guessed, his eyes on you. "how many years have you and jake-?"

"six," you said, clearing your throat and offering the daggers a small smile. "he met them six years ago. then he became a regular."

"we love him," your sister-in-law brynlee said. "he's such a sweetheart to y/n."

the daggers nearly choked on their food. hangman, a sweetheart? they had to admit that out of everyone he was the nicest to bronco, but still not particularly kind. always making uncomfortable comments, flirting in all the wrong environments, making sure you never won a game of football.

"well, uh, that's good," bob tried with a smile.

"y/n, what's the plan for tomorrow?" your mom asked.

"we'll be up early to take the boat out," you answered. "these losers haven't been out a day in their lives, so we thought we'd change that. any of y'all are welcome to come, we've just gotta be out of here by seven tomorrow morning."

"we don't want to intrude," tyler said with a shake of his head and a smile. "you guys have fun though. show 'em a good time."

"sure will," you answered. "they're gonna learn all the things; wakeboarding, kneeboarding, wakesurfing, waterskiing, the works. i've even got the murder tube ready to be blown up."

"the murder tube?" payback repeated with raised eyebrows.

"yeah," jake laughed. "and for y'all who've never been tubing before, it's basically a guaranteed wipeout."

kayley caught his attention again, giving you way to continue your talk with your siblings.

"i can come if you need, though, so you can do it all too," your younger brother, darren offered. "or is jake halfway competent?"

"i can drive a boat!" jake defended with a laugh. "i'll drag you with us later. y/n and i have a few tricks to show the squad."

"more?" coyote whispered to payback with wide eyes, earning a chuckle from the man.

"well, sounds like a plan honey. you guys need any help getting everything loaded?" your dad asked.

"nah," you said, leaning back in your chair as you grinned at your friends. "that's what the navy's prepped 'em for."

after you all finished dinner off with some apple pie, your siblings and their kids went home, you and the daggers heading back to your place. they all settled on your couch in comfy clothes, flicking through netflix as you grabbed your keys.

"anyone have any requests for lunches and snacks?" you asked, your phone out with the grocery list.

"cheetos!"

"lunchables!"

"meatballs!"

"beer!"

you winced at that one, jake snickering from behind the couch as he sent you a teasing wink.

"about that..."

"what?" rooster asked, sitting up, a beer in his hand.

"no beer on my boat," you said.

"why?"

"what?"

"but you love beer!"

"you're right, but dehydration mixed with the sun mixed with physical activity leads to a lot of drunk aviators a lot sooner than normal. and that could get dangerous and frustrating really fast, so we'll just stick to sodas, alright?" you said. they all hummed in annoyed agreement.

"makes sense," bob said with a smile. "you got dr pepper?"

"of course i have dr pepper, bob," you laughed. "alright then, well i'm heading to the store. text me if you need anything."

"i'll go with," phoenix offered.

"don't worry about it, trace," jake said as he passed her, holding the door open. bradley was baffled at the whole situation, but jake could tell he was starting to get annoyed, which only pissed him off. "she's already got company."

his grin was wide and satisfied as he followed you out.

phoenix rolled her eyes, looking at the rest of the guys. "this will definitely be an interesting trip."