#sorry this is so late. i have a concussion and typing this is hell | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

kashimos-hajime · 3 years

Text

the pawn (3/8) | r.b.

summary: He smiles. “How could I? You promised to marry me, didn’t you? Wouldn’t miss that for the world.” Or, Reiner makes a promise; you ask if it’s a challenge.

WARNINGS: general mentions of blood and injuries, minor angst, lot of subtext, and if you know where we are in the show/manga, you know whats up next pairing: reiner braun x fem!reader word count: 5.4k

a/n: slow descent into madness type beat ig hehehheh

masterlist

crossposted on ao3 x

“Shit. Bertholdt, my head—“

“Hold on.” A hand grabs yours, warm and rough, and you look up blearily to see your best friend beside you, smiling uneasily. “Give me the reins.” Bertholdt tugs it out of your grasp and you watch as he rides up ahead a few paces, leading you and your horse at the right wing of their party back to Calaneth. “How are you feeling?”

“I feel like I might throw up,” you explain briefly through clenched teeth. Being thrown off your horse and trampled had left you ragged, bloody, and broken, but you know you’re one of the lucky ones. “I shouldn’t be priority. I’ll be okay.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah.”

“Hey! Are you alright?” Reiner rides up next to you and you glance at him wearily. You cradle your sprained arm and hold your swollen shoulder in place as you nod. Your face cracked with dried tears and blood, you sway with every step back as you nod. Blood drips down your ripped pant leg and you swear the bruise is growing ever more visible but despite it all, Reiner visibly sags at seeing you breathing.

“She’ll live,” Hange calls back at them. “We managed to stop the bleeding and any internal injuries aren’t serious.”

“How do you know that?”

“Managed to scoop her up before any ribs could be stepped on,” the Section Commander explains and you nod again, straining to keep your head up. “She was a real trooper. Managed to knock a few soldiers out of that Female Titan’s way before they got crushed.”

“My horse didn’t make it, though,” you murmur, rubbing at your cheek. The sunset burns your skin and you screw up your face as a swirling sensation fills your stomach. Legs going lax, a numbness begins to crawl up your body. “I—I tried—“

“Hey, you did good,” Hange cuts sharply. “Just stay awake until we get back.”

You don’t remember what happens next. You were sitting up right, and then you pitch sideways and there’s a shout of your name. Hands grab at your shoulders but you slip, the sensation of wind brushing against your cheeks before you crash to the hard ground and black explodes into your vision.

When you awake, a soft groan rips out of your mouth and something inside your throat cracks as a figure jolts up.

“Creampie? Hey, you awake?”

Turning your face away, you let out a noise and your eyes screw shut tighter.

“You don’t have to shout,” you mumble to yourself. Your head is like a thunderstorm, lightning striking in your skull with every pulse of your heart and you wince to yourself when you move too quickly. “Shit.” Trying to move your arm, pain lances up and balls up in your shoulder, and you flinch as a hand stills your efforts. “Where—“

“We’re at headquarters. You should be okay, now that you’re awake.” Head tilting, you catch sight of a broad silhouette as the hand on your arm moves to your uninjured one, resting atop your knuckles.

“How?”

“You passed out. The doc thinks you’ve got a concussion, but we have to wait a few days until you can stay awake longer than few minutes,” Reiner continues quietly, his hand not quite leaving your bruised hand. “Shit. You scared me.”

“What? Why?” Confused, your eyebrows scrunch together as he reaches and his shadow blocks the flames for just a moment. The ache in your head dulls as his palm presses against your brow. You close your eyes. “Reiner, everything’s still fuzzy, you know.“

“You scared the shit out of me. I thought you were going to die.”

“I’m okay,” you whisper, eyes prying open gently. “I’m okay. Give me… the, uh, rundown.” You look down at your still body covered in a blanket, and Reiner follows your gaze, a dark remorse filling his gaze. Tilting your head at him, you try to smile and he accepts the effort with a tug of his own lips.

“Sprained wrist, dislocated shoulder, bruising. Your leg’s in pretty bad shape. Bruised to hell, but the doc said you’ll have a full recovery. The swelling on your shoulder should go down, but take it easy for the next month while you heal.”

“What?” You try to sit up, but he pushes you back down and your teeth clench when agony ripples through your fatigued body. Your muscles barely move, and the pain is sharp in contrast to the gauzy heat spreading under the covers.

“Don’t move. You passed out once already.” Staring into furious golden eyes, you comply and he sits back down beside you. Planting his elbows into the mattress, he buries his face in his hands with a soft groan. “Shit.” You crane your heard curiously. Lifting your uninjured hand, you set it atop his fingers but he only seems to begin to shake. “Shit.”

“Reiner?”

Fingers digging into his scalp, Reiner turns his head into his palms and you’re scalded by his flinch as you stroke a thumb over his scarred knuckles. Raising his head raggedly, golden eyes fix on your face.

Softly, as if breaking a promise: “Fuck it. Let it kill me. I can’t do this anymore. I can’t pretend that you—you—“

Confusion wrinkles your brow before a realization settles in and your hand falls as you look away. Your heart begins to wilt in your chest. “Reiner, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for this to happen.”

“Sorry? You’re sorry? God, I want to marry you.”

You open your mouth in pure shock and your eyes fly to his face just as hands cups your cheeks and he lunges forward, lips pressing to your own hungrily. A soft noise keening from your throat, your arm drapes around his neck, pulling him close instinctively.

His hands span across your cheek, your jaw, pinkies brushing the soft skin of your neck, and your head is spinning from the serenity that flows from his palms into your body as he breathes in deeply, holds you tighter.

When he pulls back, you sink into your pillows with a dazed sigh and he brushes his thumb over your mouth, gaze never leaving your face for a moment.

“I really like you,” you breathe. His face slackens at your voice, and his lips part as if he wants to say something, but as his ochre gaze only flits all over your face, a soft scoff-like sound escapes his chest.

“Still?”

Like he’s shocked. Like it could ever fade.

“Yes, and you want to marry me. We’re all full of surprises,” you whisper and for a moment, a smile pulls at the corner of his mouth as he sits back down. “C’mon. Smile for the cripple.”

“You’re not crippled.”

“Not yet, but with my skill? It’ll only be next week until you have to carry me around in your big hunky arms.” You wrinkle your nose as your hand runs down his arm, rubbing his forearm soothingly. “But you’re stuck with me now. Watch out, Braun. You don’t know what you’re in for.” He twists his wrist to grab your fingers and lifts them to his cheek. The strength drained from your arm, you can’t feel any pain anymore, only the rough skin of his hands, the warmth of his lips as he kisses your limp fingers. Maybe it’s the exhaustion or maybe it’s him, but as Reiner meets your eyes, a loopy smile passes over your face. “I’m going to break your heart.”

Lifting his head, he clasps your hand with his other, and rests his chin atop their hands. Squeezing tightly, he swallows and his lips press into a thin line that twitches into a smile that shatters you.

“I think I’ll break yours first.”

In the future, those words would haunt you for years. You’d hear them in your sleep, lingering in the haze between your dreams and reality, and every time you looked over your shoulder, expecting him to be there.

You could never know what he meant until it was too late.

Presently, however, you don’t know any better.

Frowning, you shake your hand out of his grasp and stretch to touch his face, run a knuckle under his eye. He looks like he’s staring at a corpse, and you want to sit up, hold him to you, run your hands through his hair—a million things you’ll do once you get out of this stupid bed.

For now, you settle on, “Is that… a challenge, Reiner?”

Smile. Please, smile. I’m not going anywhere, idiot. I’m alive, I’m laying right here and you want to marry me—

His eyes flicker over your battered body, to your wrist and shoulder wrapped tight as the muscles try to stitch themselves back together. He presses your hand to his cheek and, with a haunting sadness, he whispers, “No. It’s just the truth.”

Your heart drops and you open your mouth to argue but he lets go of your hand at that moment, gently lowering it back to the bed before he stands. Cold wind sweeps in, chasing away the heat of his skin, and a hollowing feeling begins to settle inside your gut as he leans over. A pair of lips press between your eyebrows before a nose rubs against yours and you stare dazedly into warm golden eyes that are infinitely empty. They stare right through you.

“Reiner…”

“Get some sleep. I’ll see you in the morning,” he whispers and your entire body yearns to hug him as his mouth slots against yours. Warmth pulsing from his mouth against yours, you arch off the bed. His hand at your neck tilts your chin to deepen the kiss and it is everything you never dreamed of. Gentle, and warm, and sad, and so full of an emotion you can’t name it seeps into you until your whole body is stuffed full of it.

When he draws back, a tear slides down the corner of your mouth yet when you raise an exhausted hand to your face, you’re scalded with the realization that the skin around your eyes is dry.

Returning to the barracks after another damn meeting, only an hour or so before Tybur’s damn show, Reiner can’t help but glance at the walls, wondering, wondering, wondering.

Are you listening even here, Magath?

Porco carries Pieck to the couch, setting her down gently while Reiner heads for the abandoned pot of tea from earlier. Pouring himself a cup, he sucks it down like he needs to breathe, ignoring how cold it is in his gut. Repeating, he hears Pieck’s gentle laugh as Porco crashes down beside her, leaning back against the couch.

“I’ll see you guys later,” Colt says, grabbing his jacket. “I have to go talk to Zeke about something. We’ll meet you guys there?”

“Sounds good.”

“See you later, Grice,” Galliard calls and Reiner barely manages his own farewell before the blond is slipping out of the room. There’s a beat of silence before: “Is it just me or are parents really insistent on their kids reproducing?” he continues to himself. “I was talking to Mom before the meeting and she said something about continuing on the family line. Ugh, as if I could stand a few ticks running around me.”

“You’d trip on them.”

“Exactly. What about me screams that I want to be a dad to some snotty brats?”

“They’d only be snotty because you’d be their father,” Pieck teases. “I heard someone’s mom was being really insistent on their son having grandkids,” she continues, pushing herself up and Reiner glances over to see her black-haired head poking out behind the cushions to send him a curious look. “It’s endearing. She wants little blond grandbabies.”

“Right, that’s not going to happen,” he says as the last drop of tea leaves the teapot and he is left with half a mug left. “I only have just a bit over a year left before I get eaten. Too cruel of a fate to leave a widow and any kids we might have.” He snorts. “Besides, I’m not interested in anyone.”

“I could help with that. You have a lot of admirers, Reiner.”

Yeah, right. “I’m not looking for anyone either, Pieck. I don’t want to hurt anyone.”

“Yeah,” Porco snorts. “I’m sure that’s the reason.”

“Don’t be mean, Pock.” A sigh and a flop and Pieck disappears from sight. “He’s right. I forgot we’re going to get eaten before we know it, and you’re going to be the only one left standing. You’ve gotta train new blood, you know. It’s so weird to think about.” Porco sits up abruptly to look down where he assumes Pieck is laying. Eyes wide, he seems to struggle for words and it’s clear that the reminder has socked him in the gut. To be honest, Reiner finds himself counting down the days at this point. “Dad’s already having a hard time with it.”

He sips on his cold tea, and it weighs like a gun in his mouth. He still remembers the feeling of it on his tongue, the slightly ashy taste of gunpowder that lingered. He still isn’t sure whether or not that part had been his imagination, but it wouldn’t have mattered.

“Pieck, c’mon. Don’t talk like that.”

“Why? It’s just how it is for us Eldians. It makes sense—we get tossed out when our bodies give up on us.”

Porco falls silent. Reiner empties his mug and walks over to set it down in the sink, bracing himself against the countertop and staring down the drain as a heavy silence fills their room.

His time is running out. He’s always been aware of that—painfully scrambling to gather the motivation to even wake up without going through with taking the Armoured Titan from Marley permanently. But... he can’t. He won’t.

He doesn’t know why he never expected you wouldn’t be there when he left. Did he think you would come quietly to Marley? A nation that set up your life the way it is now—a line of dominos one catastrophe after another? That you would come with him easily? The very man who toppled life as you knew it, forced you to join a military you didn’t want to join just to protect people?

Did he think you would still care for the man who left you, left someone who would cling to the pieces of her family left until she was bloody?

He knows that answer.

Wood creaking, he pushes himself off the countertop and heads towards the door. Two pairs of eyes burn into his side but he doesn’t care. Not even when Galliard crows at him.

“Where are you going? We have to go to the show, remember.”

“I’m taking a walk,” he replies shortly, yanking open the door and stepping through. “I’ll be back in time.”

He needs to get out of here.

Reiner helps you ease your arm back into the sling. Although you’re going insane staying in the infirmary while the others are off fighting in Stohess, his patience staves off the edge of fear at the idea of trying to stand up on your horse again. The last time—

Blonde hair. Pale eyes. She saw right through me and stopped.

Annie. It’d been Annie this entire time. Why? Why couldn’t you see it? Could you have prevented two Titans boxing it out in Stohess right now? Shit.

I should’ve known. I’m such an idiot. Why did it take for Armin to tell me?

“Hey,” Reiner murmurs, kissing your fingers. You blink, staring down at him again and he smiles faintly, straightening up. A soft pair of lips press against your forehead and you lift your head to slot your mouth against his briefly before he pulls back, stroking your cheek and sitting down beside you. “What are you thinking about?”

“Nothing.” Your arm presses against his and you flash him a smile. “We’re on another day of absolutely nothing, aren’t we?”

“Yeah,” he affirms. You sigh. The entire morning had been spent with him by your side—breakfast in bed, him bringing you some books to pass the time—but as noon nears, you can’t help but want to get out of here. You can’t even do that.

“I’m sorry.”

He frowns. “About what?”

“I feel so useless right now. The Commander’s in Stohess, and we’re just here. We should be with him.” Trying to figure out how to capture Annie. Or doing something. “I hate that I got myself hurt. It’s just so frustrating. I should’ve been better. Moved out of the way sooner, or—”

“No. Don’t do that. Don’t shoulder blame that isn’t yours.” Reiner wraps an arm around you, hand pressing the side of your head into his chest and you turn to loop your uninjured arm around his waist. “Hey.” A soft kiss against the crown of your head. “We’re going to be okay. I promise. You’ll heal up, and it’ll be okay.”

“Promise?” you echo weakly, eyes closing. Your heart pounding, you listen to his own and wonder if the same bliss fills his entire body as it does for you whenever you’re around him. Simply holding him close, you close your eyes. I think I love you, you tell him silently. Do you love me, too?

“No matter what. I’ll even put a ring on your finger when this is all over.”

“You remember,” you whisper, and he chuckles quietly, nosing at your hairline. It does nothing for the ache in your heart at the thought of your friend somewhere in Stohess locked like an animal. Is she an animal? A monster? She can’t be, you tell yourself. She’s just Annie.

Reiner’s finger brushes against your cheek, wiping something away and your eyes open when you realize it’s wet. You’re crying? How hadn’t you noticed? Squeezing him closer, you can’t help your voice from cracking: “Distract me, please. Just… tell me where we’d live. Anything.”

“Where we’d live?” he repeats, strangled, and you nod. “You’d want to come live with me? What about finding your life by the water? Raising kids—“

“Fuck all of that. I just… I just want some peace.” Throat tightening, you close your eyes again. “I want to sleep in on the weekends and I want to kiss you when I wake up, and I—“ Every thought that’s haunted you for the past few months comes back in full force as your voice clots. “I want to stop waking up feeling so heavy. I don’t want any more secrets. I don’t want to fight. I never want to see blood again.”

“Then, how about we go back to my hometown?” he suggests tightly, thumb brushing your cheek before tilting your head up. You look up at him and he smiles faintly. “There’s the biggest lake you’ve ever seen nearby. We can go to the water in the afternoons, eat all this food you’ve never had before.”

“Never had? What is it?”

He sighs, kissing your lips as his index fingers curls underneath your chin. “That’ll ruin the surprise.” Raising his hand to brush over your brow, he studies your face before cupping your jaw and cocking his head, pressing a brief kiss against the corner of your mouth. Your heart lurches. “But the weather is nice, and there are good people, and we’ll never have to worry about the war again. Sound like a plan?”

You can only nod, trying to imagine the lake he’s talking about—the shape, the shade of water, how the sunlight looks when it hits the surface. Is it cold? Does a river lead into it? All you know is that you want to see it.

“It sounds like a good plan,” you finally whisper, and something in his face softens.

“I don’t want to lose you,” he continues in low tones, swiping his thumb over your lips and cheek. “I’m sorry if I ever hurt you.”

“You were scared.” You give a one-shouldered shrug, pain spreading through your chest. “Maybe it would’ve been the right choice. You would’ve been rational to just let it go and I would’ve understood if you didn’t feel the same way.”

“No, I would be insane,” he corrects. Your eyebrows knit together. “How could I not feel the same way about someone like you?”

His words sink into your skin so deeply that the smile that pulls at your face makes you forget, for a moment, about all that’s wrong in the world. Exhaling a soft laugh, you fling your arm around his neck and pull him closer, their noses clashing as your lips find his in a soft kiss and he chuckles, reciprocating tenderly.

I love you. I love you. I love you.

It echoes in your chest like a song that ends too soon.

The infirmary doors open.

Springing away from one another, you look up as Bertholdt, Connie and Sasha come in, none the wiser, although Bertholdt’s eyes narrow at the lingering way your eyes stay on Reiner’s red cheeks. Wiping at your mouth inconspicuously, you adjust your sling with your uninjured hand.

“How are you feeling?” Sasha asks, approaching first and you wiggle your bruised leg gingerly. Dull pain, but manageable.

“Okay. Sleep really took the edge off.” Taking Reiner’s hand, you ease off the bed and get up as the brunette wraps an arm around your shoulder gingerly. Shuffling closer, you rest your head against hers and lean against her, trying to shake the feeling tingling at your cheeks. Sasha’s infectious heat soothes your nerves either way.

“C’mon. Let’s get you something to eat,” she continues. You glance over your shoulder at the boys who all house similar grins, and you dip your head. “You must be starving. I know I am.”

“Sasha—“ You’re cut off by your own laugh as she grabs your hand, pulling you towards the doors.

“What the—“

“Sasha!”

“Slow down, Sasha!” Bertholdt calls as Sasha tries to hide her snickers. Wincing, you still can’t help your smile as you meet her nefarious gaze and you give her a subtle nod. The boys call after them as their fingers interlaced, and Sasha lets out a sharp laugh as she speeds up, tugging you along. “Hey, wait! She’s still hurt!”

“Sasha!”

“Sasha! Lunch isn’t for another hour!”

Breaking into a full sprint, the two girls barrel through headquarters, letting out peals and shrieks of laughter as the boys chase after them, screaming for them to slow down. Despite the thrumming pain in your leg, you can’t help but breathe in the way the wind whizzes past your face as they reach the stairs, jogging down and slipping out of the boys’ view.

Giggling, Sasha whispers about a shortcut and you let her lead you down a hall as the boys’ footsteps patter behind them.

Indeed, when three boys burst into the mess hall, panting and two of them even sweating, they find you two already sitting at a bench across from one another, playing a game of flicking paper at one another, and Sasha, who faces the door, can only maintain a serious face for so long before she bursts into a loud laugh and you hide your smile behind your hand as you glance over your shoulder.

You only last a couple more seconds before you’re breaking down, too.

“Your face! You should see the look on their faces!” Sasha wheezes, slapping a hand over her mouth and trying to silence herself as they come closer, but Bertholdt only looks at them with barely enough anger to scare a baby that it only makes them fall apart even more.

Connie shoots Sasha a look, wedging himself in beside her with purposeful elbow action while Bertholdt and Reiner sandwich you between them and you send them both look but Bertholdt only rolls his eyes as you clutch your stomach, gasping for breath.

“The cripple can run… faster… than you,” you manage to say achingly, poking him in the arm and you swallow, your stomach cramping up as you cover your face with your hand. “What’s the Survey Corps come to?” Your leg seems to pulse at your words, and you hide a wince as your lungs hitch. A hand settles on your thigh gently, and you look at Reiner. He raises his eyebrows and you clear your throat, voice needly. “I’m okay. Really. It’s just my leg, and even that’s not that bad, I promise.”

A firm squeeze before he lets go. Sasha wipes the last tears from her eyes, sniffing a bit.

“If you say so.”

“At least you have something to do, all injured and stuff. If lunch isn’t going to come any sooner, I think I might die of boredom,” Connie points out. “We’ve been here for like, two days, and we haven’t even gotten any updates.” Bertholdt and Reiner share a look behind you as you grab the last paper ball Sasha had flicked at you and throw it back at Connie. He winces, batting it down to the floor.

Grumbling to himself, the guy ducks under the table to grab it as Reiner gets up. Looking up, you watch as he heads for the corner of the room and you excuse yourself, following after him, still recovering from your laughing high.

Sidling beside the blond, you watch as he crouches beside some cabinets.

“I think there’s a chess set somewhere here,” he explains, opening them up and searching. “Do you know how to play?”

“No.”

“Bertholdt and I do. I can teach you.” You nod, surprised. You know chess has always been a game more suited to the higher ups. You wonder how he knows how to play—who must’ve taught him.

Reiner lets out a noise of triumph and pulls something out. Extracting some books, he ducks his head and manages to pull out a wooden box, something rattling inside. The checkered pattern is a bit faded, but he kicks the cabinet doors shut gently and turns to you, surprised to see you standing so close.

“Hey.”

“Hi.” You smile softly, leaning towards him, and he cocks an eyebrow. “You’re full of surprises. Who taught you how to play chess?” The only thing blocking them from touching is the chess box between their bodies as he huffs a laugh.

“I had a friend who was older than I was. He was like our leader—knew all this kind of stuff.”

“Really?”

“His father was a doctor, I think,” he explains vaguely and you smile in amusement. “It’s really easy once you get the hang of it. Don’t worry.”

“Alright. You’re on.” You lean up just as Reiner turns his face away, and you reel back, eyes widening. The soft expression melts away and you exhale sharply, following his gaze to see Ymir glancing over her shoulder at them. Krista speaks to one of the other Scouts sitting across from them, leaving the freckled brunette to study them freely, and Reiner clears his throat, stepping back.

You duck your head, stepping back so Reiner can go ahead first and head towards the table, you following moments later.

It is easy once you learn the basic moves of each piece. Bishops diagonally, rooks horizontally and vertically, pawns one step at a time. When you don’t understand, Bertholdt explains as Reiner tries to get out of a tight spot he’s been shoved into. You really can’t tell who’s going to win as you study the board, trying to guess what they’ll do next.

Sasha and Connie look out the window, bored out of their minds, waiting for lunch as you point at a piece before Reiner can move it.

“That’ll put you in checkmate for Bertl’s next turn, I think,” you tell him, and Reiner pauses, staring at the board. Bertholdt shoots you a glare and you smile sheepishly as Reiner moves his hand.

“You’re right.” He moves his knight instead and Bertholdt scowls, moving his rook quickly as Reiner crosses his arms again. “You’re good at this.”

“I’ve got a good teacher,” you reply, smiling at him. Leaning forward on your uninjured elbow, you keep watching as Reiner turns the tides of the battle, your eyes dragging from the squares to his face. An unsettling feeling growing in your stomach, you glance at the chess pieces that’ve been taken out of action from the game just as he points out how strange everything is.

Why are we unarmed?

It wasn’t standard for them to be—that, and the lack of new orders is troubling. If anything, they should be out there with their gear on, scanning the walls just to make sure there isn’t another breach. Or even in Stohess. Why weren’t the healthy Scouts there? Wouldn’t it be more ideal for there to be more forces just in case?

Your heart drops. Unless…

Reiner stands and you look at Bertholdt who looks paler than usual.

You didn’t think much of it at first with everyone in their plainclothes, but as Reiner returns to his seat next to you from the window, you look into your lap.

What’s happening? Your eyes flit to the carved chess pieces, the one still standing as Bertholdt takes a pawn from Reiner’s side. What aren’t they telling us?

It’s not until Tomas bursts into the mess hall, demanding you directly to get ready to ride to Stohess do you understand.

“Wall Rose has been breached. You and I are riding back to Stohess to alert Commander Erwin and get you to safety.” You shoot up to your feet as Bertholdt’s and Reiner’s mouths drop open.

“I can fight.”

“There are Titans heading this way now. Without ODM gear, you might as well be dead weight.” It’s harsh, and you flinch as Reiner grabs your hand but you jerk it out of his grasp. “Saddle up, now. That’s an order from Section Commander Miche himself.” You step over the bench as Tomas turns to head out and worried murmurs break out amongst them. Your desperate gaze swings from the door to your friends who all stare at you.

“Guys—“

“Go. We’ll be okay,” Connie says, standing just as a Nanaba lands at the window and you rush out of the mess hall, ignoring the pain in your shin as you run out of the building and towards the stables. Entering, you spot Tomas already guiding out two horses and you take the reins with your hand, shrugging your injured shoulder testily out of its sling. It smarts, sharp pain shooting through you, but you shake your head.

You’d have to put it back in later. For now, tacking up a horse is your priority.

What the hell is going on? Bertholdt, Reiner, do you know what’s happening? You guys have to know what to do.

Gritting your teeth and head pulsing with pain, you manage to only be a minute behind Tomas and he helps you with the final fastenings before boosting your step up into the saddle. You take the reins gingerly, determined not to let the pain slowly growing in intensity slow you down as he leads the way out to the road.

The doors burst open as soon as they hit sunlight, and you watch as the other Scouts run for the stables. Moving out of the way, your eyes scan for one blond head in particular as Tomas calls for you to get going.

“Wait, give me a second!” Wretchedly, your ears begin to pound. “I’ll catch up to you!”

Tomas does not wait. He shakes his head, snaps his reins, and gallops out of base without another second to lose.

“Creampie!” The name makes your head swivel and you see him at last near the rear, probably to make sure no one detoured, and you wait for him to run up to you as your mare tosses her mane impatiently, pawing at the ground.

Reining her back in, you feel Reiner’s hand on your thigh before he stops beside you and you wish you could say a million things, but the most you can muster is, “Don’t do anything stupid.”

He smiles. “How could I? You promised to marry me, didn’t you? Wouldn’t miss that for the world.” Winking, he runs into the stable without another word, and your heart lurches as Bertholdt passes, squeezing your knee comfortingly and sending you a determined nod.

You give him a nod in return before grabbing the reins and taking off towards Wall Rose, following the path of dust Tomas had kicked up in his wake.

199 notes · View notes

just-come-baek · 4 years

Text

Merry Crisis

Pairing: hockeyplayer!jungkook x pickpocket!reader

Themes: smut | fluff | sports!au | christmas!au | yyy... action?

Word count: 12k

Summary: During a casual meeting with friends at a local ice rink, a handsome boy bumps into me. Though it was just a small accident, a series of extraordinary adventures follow, helping me realize I should really change some of my life choices.

A/N if you get uncomfortable during this story, just stop reading. it gets weird later on. Also, sorry for posting it so late, it’s still Christmas somewhere!

4 DAYS BEFORE CHRISTMAS

“What the hell are we doing here?” Kibum asked for the tenth time as he nearly slipped, even though his hands were glued to the railing. “None of us can skate for fuck’s sake,” he remarked, not being careful enough to watch his tongue, letting children hear his foul language. “We should’ve gone drinking mulled vine instead of this nonsense.”

“Speak for yourself. I am a decent skater,” I argued, though it was maybe my third time on the ice rink. The surface was slippery, yet I was brave enough to try my luck without sticking to the railing at all times.

Whoosh!

Kibum and I turned our heads around to see a few men racing on the rink like lunatics going probably at least two thousand miles per hour. They were skating so fast we barely could get a blurry image of their backs – fucking show-offs.

“Can you believe it? Fucking road hogs wanting to kill us all,” Kibum complained, searching for an exit with his eyes, desperate to get the hell away from the ice rink. “I’ve seen enough TV to know how this ends. Someone is going to leave this paddock with a blade in their neck,” he added, and I cursed in disgust, trying to erase the vivid picture my mind conjured.

“You really can ruin everything, can’t you?”

“Isn’t why you brought me here in the first place?” Kibum challenged, readjusting his woolen scarf around his neck in a fabulous diva manner. “Come on, go get Yeri. I’ll wait on the bench,” he ordered, clumsily escaping that icy trap.

“I think your cousin wouldn’t appreciate me going over there,” I stated, spotting her on the other side of the rink, flirting with a cute guy. “Now, that would be so cruel,” I added, leaning over the railing, staring at Kibum ineptly wobbling to the bench.

“What?” Kibum barked in an over-protecting manner, looking for the unworthy punk wasting Yeri’s time. “Just bring her here, please. I’m gonna treat you to lunch.”

“You should’ve said that earlier. I’m on it,” I said, content with how much I stalled the conversation to get a free meal from Kibum for completing such an easy task.

Having pushed myself off the railing, I made my way towards Yeri. She was basically at the opposite end of the ice rink, so I was forced to skate around lovely-dovey couples in the rhythm of overhyped Christmas songs.

Halfway there, the DJ ordered changing directions, so with a loud groan, I obediently turned around. Unfortunately, one of the speeding men didn’t halt quick enough and smashed right into me, ungracefully knocking me into the ice.

Crash!

It was a painful fall for both of us. If it wasn’t for the beanie with a big fluffy faux ball at the top of it, I’d most likely end up in hospital with a third-degree concussion and possible skull fraction.

Though I was in a mild shock, I could feel a nearing headache and blood dripping down my chin after his forehead collided against my nose. With his knee sharply boring into my thigh, I whined, trying to push him off of me.

At this point, I didn’t care about his injuries. He was the one who bumped into me in the first place; he deserved all the pain he was experiencing. Hopefully, it was similar to mine. According to Newton’s third law of motion, he ought to feel the same amount of pain, and if he sensed it any less, I was about to become livid about the lie I had been told at school.

“Get off of me!” I yelled, once again trying to shove him to the side. Huffing in defeat, I accepted my death by freezing my ass off due to a motionless pile of muscles lying on top of me. “Dude, move,” I tried again, and the man winced, sliding to the side.

“I’m so, so sorry,” he whispered, whimpering in ache. “Are you okay?”

“Been better,” I remarked, trying to sit up. However, as soon as I was in a sitting position, I started to feel dizzy – the surroundings just kept spinning in front of my eyes.

“Oh my God, are you okay?” Two men and Yeri scared in unison as they made their way towards us. “It was quite a fall,” one of them added, making me roll my eyes. His friend literally smashed me off the ice like a bulldozer – I wouldn’t call it a fall.

“She’s bleeding,” Yeri mentioned, looking for a bag of single-use handkerchiefs to give me one to aid my problem.

“How many fingers do you see?” the other man leaned over, showing me his palm, and I swatted his hand away with an angry hiss. “You’ve hit her bad, Jungkook. Good luck apologizing to her,” he commented, making it really difficult for me not to kick him in the shin with the blade.

“Is this a joke to you?” Yeri challenged the man, not particularly enjoying his comment. Attagirl! “You better make yourself useful and carry them off the rink,” she ordered sternly, her voice laced with concern.

“Hold on, beautiful,” the shorter one said before he bent to pick me up and wrap his arms around my shoulders to carefully escort me out of the ice rink. Slowly, we staggered to the benches where the man helped me sit down. “I’m Jimin, and you are?”

“In a tremendous amount of pain,” I replied, massaging my head, trying to ease the throbbing. I was about to get a headache of a century, and they kept asking me these stupid questions.

“I’m fine, Hoseok, put me down,” the man, who had smashed into me, complained as his friends dropped him at the bench beside me. “I’ve been through worse,” he groaned, and I gritted my teeth, trying to stop my instinct to cause another scene.

Thankfully, I’ve got Kibum, who would channel his inner Karen to argue for me.

“You stupid fucks, look what you’ve done!” Kibum yelled, hitting Jungkook in the back of his head, making everyone gasp in shock. “What were you thinking, skating this fast? You’re lucky she didn’t end up with a blade stuck in her throat, or else, I’d have to murder you!”

“Guys, stop shouting,” I whispered, barely withstanding the pain. “Can we please go somewhere quiet?”

On cue, Kibum and Yeri went to get my stuff. At the same time, Jungkook’s friends walked away from us to get their belongings, leaving me alone with the villain himself.

“I’m really sorry,” Jungkook apologized once again, being considerate enough to volume down his words. “Come on. Let me help you,” he stood up, offering his hand to escort me out of the tent. Unwillingly, I grabbed his palm, allowing him to save me from random shouts of joy and repetitive Christmas hits.

Once outside, I felt a little bit better, but it was still far from perfect.

“How are you feeling? Should I take you to a hospital?” Jungkook inquired as he looked into my eyes, trying to detect any lie.

“Nah, I’m good. I think I’ll just walk it off,” I shook my head, trying to stand up to demonstrate my current state. Unfortunately, I was still a little bit shaken after the fall, almost collapsing onto the ground. “On a second thought, I’m gonna sit here for a while,” I added, sheepishly, experiencing an unfamiliar feeling of helplessness.

In silence, Jungkook and I started at each other, unsure what to do or say next. We were just two strangers who participated in an accident. Our friends were nowhere to be found, giving zero fucks about the uncomfortable moment between us.

“Should we exchange numbers?” Jungkook suddenly asked, making me crease my eyebrow in confusion. What did he need my phone number for? “When there’s a car accident, both parties exchange contact info to work out a settlement,” Jungkook explained, and I sighed, trying to digest what he just said. Apparently, he wasn’t the sharpest tool in the shed. “Please, don’t sue me,” he added with a light-hearted giggle to his tone as he sat down on the bench.

“I didn’t plan on doing that, but since you’ve mentioned it, I’ll think about it,” I teased, reaching into my coat’s pocket to get my phone. “Give me your number, I’ll ring you,” I muttered, carefully typing Jungkook’s digits into my device. After a few seconds, Jungkook’s phone vibrated, flashing my number.

“Under what name did you save me?” Jungkook asked in curiosity, looking over my shoulder, cackling when he read totally suing this guy on the screen. “Well… at least you didn’t save me under do not pick up the phone, so that’s a relief,” he added, laughing at his joke.

Though I was a little bit curious how Jungkook saved my number, ultimately, I decided not to entertain this impulse. After all, the chances of him actually calling me were slim, if not none.

“What’s your name?” Jungkook asked, but before I managed to give him a proper reply, Kibum shouted it loud and clear from afar. “Duly noted,” he added with a tiny grin.

Along with Yeri and Jungkook’s friends, he made his way toward us, having the guys carry all our stuff like indebted servants.

“You’ll never guess,” Kibum stated, plopping on the bench beside me. At this point, I wasn’t in the mood for charades, so I just rolled my eyes, failing to accordingly react to Kibum’s attempted suspense.

Thankfully, Yuri chimed in, revealing the big plan. “We’ve talked to the guys, and they proposed to treat all of us to dinner. The race was their idea, so they figured it’s one way to make it up to you for you know what,” Yuri explained, and I sighed.

Hooray!

That’s exactly what I needed, to spend more time with the asshole that slammed into me with the force of a hundred horses.

Perfectly splendid.

“Sure, that sounds amazing,” I replied through gritted teeth, staring at that cheap bastard Kibum. He owed me dinner, so he used his sly manipulation to guilt-trip these naïve boys into treating all of us for a meal.

“See? I told you guys she doesn’t hold grudges against people who provide her with food,” Kibum answered, not surprising me all that much. I was accustomed to his ways. Jungkook, Hoseok, and Jimin, on the other hand, were about to get exploited to Kibum’s heart’s content.

But hey, free food, there’s no way I’d say no to that.

Fifteen minutes later, we were walking down the alley, looking for a restaurant or a diner that was able to provide a table for six. Unfortunately, luck wasn’t on our side.

It was a long stroll. All establishments were either packed with people, or they simply weren’t capable of catering for such a large group like ours.

We didn’t give up, though. In pairs, we walked further, our stomachs growling louder and louder. Hoseok and Jimin were leading the way, chatting about some hockey game somewhat this week. Right behind, Kibum was giving a lecture on relationships to Yeri, being the highly unnecessary third parent to her. And lastly, there was Jungkook and me, awkwardly trailing behind all of them, talking about nothing in particular, unable to find a ground topic for a proper conversation.

At some point, a man in an expensive black coat bumped into me, smashing his shoulder against mine. It was quite a powerful collision on the sidewalk, resulting in me falling right into Jungkook’s arms.

“Hey, watch where the hell you’re going,” I yelled, massaging my limb to ease the soreness, while the man didn’t seem to pay any attention to my angry shout.

“Hey, you should really apologize,” Jungkook hollered at the man, standing up for me. Unfortunately, the man didn’t reflect his misbehavior even after Jungkook stepped in. He barely turned his head around to check what that was about, dismissing it a few seconds later.

“Let it go; he’s not worth it,” I wrapped my hand around Jungkook’s shoulder, stopping him from confronting the rude asshat. “Karma is gonna get him,” I added with a smirk upon my face as I imagined how much cash he had in his wallet – which, in fact, was at the bottom of my pocket right now.

It ought to teach him a lesson.

“It’s your unlucky day,” Jungkook admitted, feeling sorry for my misfortune.

“Well… it’s not that bad,” I assured Jungkook with a happy beam, realizing my mistake the second the words left my mouth. Fantastic, I was just enthusiastic about the cash I found lying all over the ground. However, now, Jungkook must’ve thought I was into him.

Dear Lord, save me from this misunderstanding.

Before Jungkook managed to question my ambiguous comment, Jimin and Hoseok shouted. Apparently, they found a restaurant with a large enough table to fit us all.

At last!

Once inside, we quickly sat down, ready to skim through the menus. Honestly, we were all hungry way past the I-need-my-food-tasty stage, so we decided to order two giant pizzas and six pints of Christmas Ale beer.

“I think we should play a game before our food arrives,” Jimin proposed as he looked at the people by the table, not appreciating the awkwardness. Within Jimin were two wolves – one was a social butterfly, and the other was a people pleaser. Sitting in an uncomfortable silence irked him immensely. “How about a little integration, anybody?”

“You have to excuse him,” Hoseok interjected, trying to calm the angry crowd of grownups. “Jimin’s going to be a counselor on a hockey camp during the winter break, and sometimes, he forgets he’s not talking with middle-school pupils.”

“You’re never too old for some good old bonding,” Jimin fought his case, really keen on getting to know us better. “Especially over some beer,” he added when the waitress walked up to our table with our beverages.

Though none of us wanted to participate in Jimin’s fun activities, we eventually gave in, realizing his persistence was even more energy-draining than the bonding games themselves.

The rules were simple, you had to name three finds you love and three things you hate. Jimin went first, and it was actually quite funny to see the contrast between him and Kibum, who was the second to speak up.

“I love Mexican food, horror movies, and money,” I confessed when it was my turn, having no regrets. After all, we would never meet again. “I hate banana milk, wireless earphones, and doing laundry,” I added, completing the horrid task, making everyone at the table grow silent. Cocking my brow upward, I asked, “what?”

“Nothing,” Hoseok replied, still trying to comprehend the situation. “It’s just unbelievable.”

With each syllable that rolled off Hoseok’s tongue, I knew less and less. What the hell was going on? Could somebody explain to me what the fuss was all about?

“Basically, Jungkook loves all the things you hate,” Jimin finally explained, making Kibum cackle in entertainment.

“Ooh-la-la, the plot thickens,” Kibum snickered, laughing loudly, kicking his head backward.

“Ignore him. He’s just being a drama queen for no reason,” I interjected, ignoring Kibum’s ridiculous reaction.

“Guys, look, the food is ready,” Yeri said in excitement upon seeing our waitress walking toward us with delicious pizza in her hands. “I am so hungry,” she added, rubbing her hands together, licking her lips with appetite.

Thankfully, the rest of the evening went smoothly. After the beer and the food, the conversation sailed without any disturbance, everybody chiming in once in a while. A friendly atmosphere surrounded us, but we all felt it was the first and final meeting. Our groups had completely different vibes, and though we had somewhat fun, there was no point in forcing this friendship any further.

In an amicable mood, we parted ways.

Having dropped Yeri at her dorm, Kibum and I took an Uber to our shared apartment.

“I am dying,” I complained, stretching my arms as soon as I walked through the threshold of our comfy place. Having hung the coat, I fished out the stolen wallet. “I deserved a long bath,” I added, plopping down onto the couch, looking through the content of my newest possession.

“You really have to stop doing that. You’re gonna get caught one time,” Kibum mentioned as he sat down beside me, tearing the wallet out of my hands, browsing through the loyalty cards, looking for a bargain. “When did you even steal it? I was by your side the whole time,” Kibum wondered as he found a coupon for a free coffee amongst the plastic cards.

“You know what they say,” I started, counting the cash in my hands – almost two hundred bucks, not bad. “The first million is the hardest and is meant to be stolen,” I finished my thought, putting the cash into my purse.

“First of all, nobody has ever said that,” Kibum argued, groaning. It wasn’t the first time we had this conversation; at this point, we had this pep talk rehearsed to perfection. “You’re pushing your luck here. One day you’ll pick the wrong pocket.”

“What do you want me to say? I can’t stop now,” sighing, I replied. Maybe in the future, once I land a stable job with an adequate wage, I’ll quit. In this economy, it may be quite challenging, but that’s the goal. Right now, I was as poor as a church mouse, barely getting by each month on my level of living.

“I’m gonna be so pissed if the police catch you,” Kibum complained, giving up on his daily lecture. Trying to convince me was a vicious circle. Kibum felt as if he was trapped in some lame remake of Groundhog Day, only failing at knocking some common sense into his friend’s stubborn head.

“Take it easy. They won’t,” I mused with a light-hearted smile. “If you’re forgotten, you’re like super old. You’ll get bald if you keep worrying so much.”

“That’s a low blow,” Kibum mentioned, frowning in annoyance. Ever since he reached the dreadful thirty mark, it was his biggest insecurity. “Alright then,” he carried on, ready to attack me with just as strong jab. “What about Jungkook?”

“What about him?”

“You’ve had a moment.”

“What moment?” I inquired, pretending to be way clueless than I really was. “If, by moment, you mean that he basically nailed me into the ice, then yes.”

“You should’ve given him your phone number,” Kibum commented casually, and I turned my head around, avoiding his gaze. “Oh my, you actually gave it, I knew it,” he realized, looking right through me. “Finally, you need some. Later on, maybe he’ll talk you out of your bad habits,” Kibum carried on, blabbering nonsense.

“Don’t you think you’re getting way ahead of yourself?” I questioned, folding my arms over my chest. “I guess Jungkook’s a good guy, but he ain’t gonna call me.”

“You never know,” Kibum reasoned, and I sighed, walking away to the bathroom to run myself a relaxing bath, which was all that I needed.

3 DAYS BEFORE CHRISTMAS

It was a terrible day.

First of all, I was still a bit sore after the ice rink accident. Then, I tried strolling along the bustling alleys, picking a few pockets. Unfortunately, people didn’t carry that much cash.

Having stolen three wallets, I only collected fifty bucks.

That was pathetic.

Sighing, I decided to call it a day.

Kibum would be so proud of me, I thought as I made my way to a random coffee shop, wanting to accidentally lose one of the wallets. That way, the rightful owner would have a chance of actually finding it if he decided to trace back his steps.

On my walk of shame back home, my phone randomly stopped playing music. Instantly, I furrowed my eyebrows, trying to fish it out of my pocket, knowing there was an incoming call waiting to be answered.

Normally, I’d either ignore it because I knew it was a spam call or just ignore it because I preferred texts to calls. Whoever opted to dial must’ve been devil’s spawn. No doubt.

Totally suing this guy.

Hmm… what does he want? I wondered as my thumb hovered over the answer icon on the screen. I wasn’t serious about suing him; it was just me teasing the poor guy. I didn’t actually mean it, and I thought it was obvious.

Before I managed to make up my mind about picking up the phone, Jungkook must’ve given up and hung up. Unfortunately, right when I was about to put it back in my pocket, I received another incoming call.

Totally suing this guy.

“Hello?” I asked, picking up the phone. Hopefully, he would check up on me and end the conversation. It was weird and uncomfortable, so it better be the last time.

“Hi, it’s Jungkook,” he said, sounding somewhat shy and timid. “From the ice rink, how are you feeling?” Jungkook inquired, and I sighed, getting mentally prepared for my reply.

“I’m better,” I answered shortly, not giving him any details on my condition. It was just a few bruises; I wasn’t dying. “Your knee left a bruise, but in a few days, I’m gonna feel all good,” I added, remembering the large mark on my thigh. It looked like a big ass hickey, but that’s the comment I was about to keep to myself.

“I’m really, really sorry,” he spoke through a tumult on his side of the call. He must’ve been in a crowded place, like a locker room packed with fellow hockey players or something. A second later, I heard a noise of shutting the doors close, assuming Jungkook must’ve left the room, wanting to continue this talk without any further disturbance.

“Don’t worry, I’m fine,” I reassured that he cared so him. It was adorable much about my condition, but it was starting to feel a little bit excessive. A regular amount of repentance would be understandable, but he was quite over the top.

“Actually, it’s not why I’m calling,” Jungkook admitted, taking me aback. Why else would he call then? “It was just an excuse,” he added, and I genuinely started to wonder what was going on inside his head. He didn’t want to ask me out, did he?

Nah, it didn’t make any sense.

Get a grip, woman.

“Oh, why are you calling me then?” I challenged him as I couldn’t wait any longer for the big reveal. “What is so important that couldn’t be a simple text?”

“Well…,” Jungkook started, and I smiled, hearing in his tone that he was beaming. “To be completely honest, I really suck at texting. One time, I texted back my friend after a few months, so yeah, I’d rather call,” he explained, and though that’s not my preferred way of communicating, I found it adorable.

“Nobody’s perfect.”

“So, I was wondering if you’d like to hang out,” Jungkook asked, and I became speechless.

“Really? Why?” I questioned as I couldn’t find any reason why Jungkook would like to meet up with me. Yesterday, I had been grumpy as fuck – it was hard to believe he wanted to see my face ever again.

“What do you mean why?”

“I wasn’t particularly nice to you yesterday,” I admitted, looking down at my feet.

“You were just angry, it happens,” Jungkook claimed, once again surprising me – he wasn’t just good-looking. Besides his gorgeous looks, he, most importantly, was a kind, soft-spoken person with a heart of gold.

“Yeah, but still, I was an asshole.”

“No, it must’ve been that spur-of-the-moment kind of attitude,” Jungkook brushed it off without my thought, and I sighed in relief. Thankfully, he didn’t think I was a complete bitch. “I would be pissed too if someone tackled me down at a public ice rink.”

“Could we please stop talk about it?” I proposed, willing to put it all behind us.

“Sorry,” Jungkook apologized sheepishly, and I giggled, shaking my head, unable to process how adorable he was. “So, back to the topic, I was wondering if you’d like to come to that charity hockey game tomorrow,” he trailed off, a little bit insecure about my answer. “And after that, we could grab some coffee. I mean, if you don’t have any plans, I’d really like to meet up,” Jungkook added, sounding like a ball of a blabbering mess.

“Hmm… tomorrow, I am busy in the morning and early afternoon. What time does the game begin?” I questioned, buying myself more time to think over Jungkook’s proposition. He was a good guy, and I’d love to hang out, but I still had doubts.

“At three o’clock!” Jungkook exclaimed in excitement, probably hoping I was available to attend this charity event. “We’re raising money for a winter camp for kids from St. Paul’s orphanage. That’s the one Jimin’s gonna volunteer at.”

Now, there was no way I could say no.

“I should be free by then,” I answered, hoping I wouldn’t regret my decision later on.

“Fantastic, see you tomorrow,” Jungkook exclaimed happily, and I giggled at his enthusiasm.

“Ayo, Jeon, what are you giggling at?” Someone in the background hollered, teasing Jungkook. Though I thought it was cute and playful, Jungkook must’ve felt so embarrassed that he hung up before I managed to say my farewell.

2 DAYS BEFORE CHRISTMAS

According to Jungkook’s instructions, the charity game out to start around 3 in the afternoon. A bit too early if you ask me, but who am I to judge the authorities who organized it? Nonetheless, I put on a nice outfit (effortless though chic) and made my way to the university’s stadium, ready to sit through the entirety of the game, already suspecting it wouldn’t appeal to my preferences. It was far too brutal to be enjoyable.

I had no interest in hockey, nor even knew the basics; however, Jungkook wanted me out of all people to support him. Normally, I’d skip, but there was just something about him that made it really difficult to say no to him. There I was – on university grounds during the holiday break, heading to the sports department where I had never stepped my foot willingly.

It was a charity event our university annually hosted. To be completely honest, it was the first time I heard of it. Moreover, there was a high chance I wasn’t the only one. Right in front of the entrance, there was no queue – I was the only one, and it was suspicious as fuck.

Unless I had first-hand info about the beginning of the game, I would just turn around and leave. However, Jungkook had specifically said 3 p.m., so I walked up to the entrance, seeing a man distributing tickets. He must’ve been one of the volunteering students. Admirable.

With a deep sigh, I pushed the doors open and entered the building. “One ticket, please,” I spoke, pulling out my wallet to pay for the entry fee. It was all for charity, so I gladly paid up the round sum. These kids really deserved a treat, and I’d love to contribute.

“You’re the first one to arrive; you must be a hardcore fan of our hockey team,” the friendly man said, and I just giggled at this obvious misconception.

Me? A fan? A hardcore one at that? Wow.

“I wouldn’t say that. I’m here to support a friend,” I answered, denying the accusations with a casual response. “Where should I go?”

“Right this way, the first doors on the left,” the man answered with a happy beam. “Seats are not assigned, so be free to sit anywhere you like,” he added, and I bowed, thanking him for the directions. Though I was near graduation, I had no idea how to move around the building.

Having pushed the heavy doors open, I made my way to the bleachers.

A few players were skating across the ice rink, while the area for spectators was empty. As if that wasn’t awkward enough, all the players looked at me, whistling like a bunch of starved wolves. What the hell was that all about?

Ooh! Ooh!

“Wow, Jungkook, this girl really came,” one of the boys, probably Hoseok, shouted loud enough for me to hear. What? Did Jungkook talk about me with his teammates? What for? Or did they listen to us chat on the phone the other day? Even so, what’s with the reaction?

At first, I wanted to turn around and run away. I didn’t like the way they looked at me. It resembled a combination of concern for their younger teammate and playful support for whatever was about to stem between us. Ridiculous!

Then, I considered sitting in the last row, ignoring their curious glances. I’d probably pull a book out of my bag and devote myself to the plot for the duration of the game.

Unfortunately, none of my ideas seemed to be possible – especially not when one of the players with number 1 written on the sports uniform skated toward the railing. It must’ve been Jungkook. I mean… who else would that be?

Once he took off his helmet, I realized that my suspicion was right. It was indeed Jungkook with his messy, sweaty hair and a goofy smile upon his face. He was waving at me, enticing me closer to the ice rink.

“You really came,” Jungkook whispered when I walked up to him. “I really doubted you did,” he added, and I rolled my eyes at him.

“If I didn’t, you would keep calling me,” I answered playfully, still unable to comprehend how, on earth, he preferred calling to texting. It was ridiculous; he couldn’t be that bad at replying as he had claimed. “And also, why am I here this soon? Where is everybody? Care to explain?” I asked, my tone slightly laced with anger.

“Did I really say 3 o’clock?” Jungkook inquired innocently, staring at the big clock on the scoreboard. “My bad, I fucked it up, sorry,” Jungkook apologized, but I suspected his words weren’t entirely genuine. Apparently, he wanted me to come this soon, and I had to figure out why.

“Also, care to explain why your teammates stare at me like that,” I questioned, cocking my eyebrow, looking past Jungkook’s shoulder. The hockey team really seemed to be invested in what was going on between Jungkook and me, and I didn’t like the way they were gawking at me as if I had two heads growing out on my shoulders.

“Oh, I might’ve got caught talking to you yesterday,” he mentioned as if I didn’t already suspect that. “Apparently, I looked like an embodiment of teenage crush, and they keep teasing me about it. I am sorry if they creep you out,” Jungkook explained, and I beamed, thinking it was actually pretty cute.

“They’re your friends; that’s what friends do.”

“Hey, Jeon, quit flirting and get your ass on the rink. We’ve all gotta warm-up,” the coach hollered, urging Jungkook to return to his teammates. Though it was just an out of the season game, their coach didn’t want to lose anyway.

“Good luck, Jeon,” I whispered, shooing him away from me, really trying to give him a chance for a proper warm-up before the match. “Don’t let anyone tackle you down. It’s not that pleasant,” I added with an encouraging smile.

“I got it,” Jungkook spoke, sending me a cute wink.

Just as I asked him to, Jungkook skated away, only to come back around ten seconds later.

“By the way, you’ve got any plans after the game?” Jungkook asked, waiting for my answer with utter impatience. “I thought maybe we could grab something to eat.”

“Well… that depends,” I replied, and Jungkook cocked up his eyebrow.

“Depends on what?”

“Ask me again after you win the game,” I teased, giving him some extra motivation to try his best on the rink. “Go, they’re waiting.”

And with that, Jungkook finally got his head in the game.

The coach shouts tips and occasionally scolds players that aren’t on their best performance. In the meantime, people fill up the seats on the bleachers, excited to see the match and open their wallets for the laudable cause.

By the time the match finally begins, I am bored out of my mind. I gave hockey a fair shot, but it didn’t raise my interest in the tiniest bit. It just wasn’t my thing.

Thankfully, I had a newly purchased book in my bag to pass the time. It was just a Christmas themed erotica with a half-naked Santa with a six-pack on the cover. It wasn’t anything promising, but the holidays were around the corner, so maybe it’d put me in the right mood.

Though I didn’t have high hopes for the novel, it felt disappointing. The plot was cliché, and the pace was too rushed, but nonetheless, I’d still choose it over a hockey game. Contact sports weren’t really my thing, especially when it was giving me PTSD.

From time to time, my eyes would locate Jungkook on the rink. He was really out there, showing off his talents, making people gawk in admiration. He was one of the best players in his team, scoring goal after goal. Or whatever they score in hockey.

It was an even match, but ultimately, our team won by two points.

“On children’s behalf, I’d like to thank everybody for coming,” a woman in smart clothing spoke through the microphone. It must’ve been the orphanage director showing her gratitude for all the money they had managed through the ticket sale. “My heart really melts when I see how many people decided to help our children, especially in this difficult time of the year,” she recited, putting the microphone away from her mouth before a grateful tear rolled down her cheek. “Thank you so much!”

Shortly after, she handed the microphone to Jungkook’s coach.

“Hi, everybody, I’m coach Min,” he introduced himself, and the spectators clapped their hands in gratitude for leading the team towards victory. “I’d like to thank everybody for donating the money. I hope the kids will enjoy their winter break,” he added, looking at the crowd, proud of so many people gathered to support the cause. “However, if you’d like to contribute, even more, my team will wait outside with boxes. With this extra money, we would like to buy Christmas gifts for these amazing kids. I wish you all – Merry Christmas.”

Another round of applause echoed among the walls before people slowly started to head towards the exit. Taking my time, I followed the crowd, looking for Jungkook. It was difficult; people were feeling generous today.

“Over here,” I heard somebody call my name, so I turned around, recognized Jimin. He was standing a few meters away with a heavy box stuffed with cash. “Would you like to make some children happy?” Jimin asked, placing the box right under my nose, wanting me to contribute some more. “What do you say?”

Although I had already paid the entry fee, I still wanted to give more. All the goodness I had witnessed at the stadium pulled my heartstrings; it was impossible to say no now. Once I started, I just couldn’t stop.

With a genuine smile, I pulled out my wallet. I had plenty of cash in it. Everything I had stolen during this week. It was about four hundred bucks. Without a slimmer of doubt, the team would spend it wisely. Better than I ever could.

“Are you sure? It’s a lot of money,” Jimin asked, wondering if I was in the right state of mind donating so much.

“Yes, I am sure,” I confirmed, giving all of the money away. The feeling was deliberating, and it was really nice. “Oh my God, Jimin! What are you doing?” I asked in panic when Jimin put the box on the ground and picked me up, spinning around.

“Ahem,” someone cleared their throat before continuing, “am I interrupting something?” A familiar voice asked, making Jimin drop me down. Thankfully, I didn’t stumble. Somehow I found my balance before I hit my face against the pavement.

“Oh, Jungkook,” Jimin whispered, smiling awkwardly, almost as if we were caught cheating. “It’s not what it looks like,” he started, and I rolled my eyes. Literally, it was the worst phrasing he could choose, especially given the reputation this line holds. “I was just showing my gratitude after her generous donation.”

“Let’s just go,” I interjected before Jimin managed to embarrass me even more. With a smile upon my face, I grabbed Jungkook’s box and handed it over to Jimin. “Take care of that, okay?” I said, grabbing Jungkook’s hand, pulling him away from the campus ground.

Since it was quite chilly outside, Jungkook and I decided to grab drinks at the campus café. Having taken seats by the window in the back, we looked through menus to choose something delicious for our little informal date.

“Order anything you like; it’s my treat,” Jungkook mentioned before he proceeded to look through the menu. “You were my lucky charm today.”

“Well… of course, it’s your treat. I gave all my money away to charity,” I spoke, looking through the tea section for something I haven’t had before. “I’d like vanilla cinnamon tea,” I read out loud the position off the menu that really caught my attention.

“On it,” he added before he walked up to the counter to order. In a minute, he was back at the table, sitting comfortably at the other side of the table. “So… you and Jimin, huh?”

“Speaking of which, what kind of jealousy scene was that?” I inquired, teasing him for completely misunderstanding this situation.

“Sorry for that,” Jungkook apologized sheepishly, looking away. “It’s just it was so unexpected. I mean… you don’t know Jimin that well, and acting like that was quite strange,” Jungkook explained, and I nodded, trying to understand his reaction.

“Jimin’s cute. Is he single?” I asked, and Jungkook frowned upon my question, visibly upset with my wording. “What I meant is that I have a friend. I have a feeling they would click, you know,” I clarified, giggling when I saw relief wash through Jungkook.

“In that case, he’s very single,” Jungkook gladly answered, smiling brightly like an idiot. “After the last girl he was seeing dumped him a few months ago, he didn’t date. Maybe it’s about time he gets back to it,” he added, and I nodded, scribbling down my friend’s number on a piece of paper, sliding it over to Jungkook, believing he would pass it to Jimin.

“So… what are your plans for Christmas Eve?” I asked when the barista brought our order to the table. Apparently, Jungkook is quite a sweet-tooth. Beside my tea, he ordered a large cup of hot cocoa with roasted marshmallows on top along with four beautifully decorated cupcakes. I got cavities just by looking at it.

“I’m going Christmas shopping,” Jungkook answered, licking off some whipped cream off the pink cupcake. “I gotta buy gifts for the kids,” he added, and I smiled at the boy in front of me. Although I knew him only for two days, he kept surprising me.

In a good way, of course.

“Do you have any idea what I can get them?” Jungkook inquired, stuffing his mouth with the cupcake, enjoying his sweet treat. “There’s like thirty-five of them. I am clueless.”

“I don’t know… board games? Art supplies? Lego blocks? I’m sure you’ll figure this out,” I replied, suspecting I wasn’t much of a help.

“You could always come and join me,” Jungkook proposed, reaching for another cupcake. “I could use some help,” he added, pushing the tray with sugary treats towards me.

“I’d love to, but I will be at work, sorry,” I answered truthfully, now kind of regretting replying to that ad on Craigslist. “I’m babysitting tomorrow. Parents of three go on some business trip, and I have to watch them until their grandparents take over,” I explained, and Jungkook nodded, sipping his hot cocoa.

“Any plans after that?”

“I’ll just come back home and watch some Christmas movies on Netflix. This year, I don’t have time to go to my hometown. I gotta go to work as soon as Christmas is over,” I explained with a deep sigh. Although I wasn’t exceptionally family-oriented, it still felt a little bit odd to spend Christmas alone. “What about you?”

“My parents finally saved up enough money for the second honeymoon they always wanted to go, so there’s no real celebration this year,” Jungkook mentioned, showing real support for his parents. If that’s what they really wanted, he didn’t want to be a burden. “I’m really happy for them. Raising me and my brother wasn’t easy, so that’s the least we can do.”

“That’s really sweet of you,” I commented, wondering about Jungkook, his family, and their customs. “We could hang out tomorrow evening if you want to,” I proposed, and Jungkook beamed in utter joy, almost as if he waited for my offer.

“I thought you’d never ask,” Jungkook admitted, grinning like a child. “Come on, have some cupcake. I bought them for us.”

“I’m fine with my tea,” I replied, raising the cup to my mouth, taking a tiny sip. “I’m full just by looking at you eat,” I added, encouraging Jungkook to devour the rest of the goodies.

As if I didn’t know already, Jungkook proved to me one more time how charming he was. Though we had different opinions on some topics, we also had a lot in common.

This date was really informative. For example, I had no idea that Jungkook only plays in the hockey team for the scholarship. His true passion is photography and directing, and it’s actually his major. Moreover, he shared how much he likes to sings in the shower, for which he often gets teased by fellow teammates.

Maybe our first meeting was a tragedy, but the more time I spent with him, I began to realize that it was actually worth it to take this fall.

CHRISTMAS EVE

“My parents should arrive around seven,” the mother of three boys announced when she finally found a second to talk to me. “Jin is ten, Namjoon is eight, and Taehyung is five,” she added when the boys ran across the corridor, chasing one another.

“They’re adorable,” I commented, though I didn’t really mean it. I had no idea how the kids would behave when their parents would walk out the door.

“My sweet little angels,” she said with a deep sigh, feeling a bit sad that she had to leave her children alone on Christmas day. Unfortunately, whatever they had to tend to at work was way more important than spending holidays with their children. “How much money do I owe you?” She asked, being unaware of the amount her husband put on the advertisement.

“Five hundred,” I answered, and she nodded her head, giving me the correct amount.

Thankfully, the kids weren’t all that troublesome.

After their parents left for the airport, the children were a loud mess playing some console games. As long as they didn’t want me to participate in their fun activities, I didn’t mind the noise. I’d just simply wait for the grandparents to arrive.

Just two more hours; I can handle that.

“Can I have some candy?” Taehyung asked cutely, holding a bag of jelly beans in his hands. Usually, I’d say no. Kids tend to be hyperactive on the sugar rush. I didn’t want to have to deal with it, but then, I was quite impressed that he even bothered to ask for permission.

“Of course, sweetie, it’s Christmas,” I replied, tearing the packaging for him.

After the boys got bored, they wanted to play some board games with me. I wasn’t particularly interested in interacting with them but ultimately decided to join in. It’s been a while since I destroyed someone at Monopoly, so I might as well do it now.

Just one more hour; it’s almost over.

The boys had a particularly short attention span. The average game of Monopoly should take at least two hours – Jin, Namjoon, and Taehyung returned to their previous shenanigans, running around and screaming at one another maybe twenty minutes into the game.

Just when I was about to yell at them to keep quiet, I heard my phone ring. Under these circumstances, it was a blessing. At this point, I’d diligently answer all the questions the spam caller wanted to ask me. I was desperate for some interaction with an adult.

Having locked myself inside the bathroom, I answered the call, enjoying a little bit of peace and quiet. “Hello?” I asked, waiting for Jungkook to brighten my day.

“Hi, there,” he spoke cheerfully, “all gifts are bought and wrapped,” he added, proud of his today’s achievements. “What time do you finish up?”

“In an hour or maybe earlier,” I answered, looking at the wristwatch.

“Do you want me to pick you up? We could take a walk, and then just go with the flow,” Jungkook proposed, and I immediately said yes as I couldn’t wait for him to show up and rescue me from these children.

“I’d actually love that. I’ll text you the address,” I spoke, biting my bottom lip in excitement. One more hour and I’d walk away with five hundred bucks in my wallet.

When the clock struck seven o’clock, the grandparents were nowhere to be seen. They were running late, and I was growing impatient. Jungkook would be here any minute, and I wanted to leave. I tried calling their parents but to no avail. They must’ve already boarded the plane.

This situation was helpless – they were just little boys, I couldn’t leave them alone.

Thirty minutes later, I heard the bell. In a hurry, I opened the doors, wishing to see the grandparents on the other side. Unfortunately, much to my dismay, it was just Jungkook.

“Shall we go now?” Jungkook asked, eyeing me from head to toe, biting his lip. “Wow, you look amazing,” he added, and I stared down at my outfit consisting of a cute tight purple turtleneck, a short black skirt, and a pair of warm tights.

“I can’t go yet. Their grandparents aren’t here, and I don’t have a way of calling them,” I explained, and Jungkook sighed, taking off his shoes, willing to help me babysit.

“What is he doing here,” Jin asked, as he folded his arms around his chest, judging me for inviting someone to their household.

“He’s my friend who was supposed to pick me up after I’m done here, and since your grandparents are getting late, he’s staying, so be nice to him.”

“Whatever,” he grumped before running to the living room, joining his brothers on the couch.

We tried watching a movie. However, once again, the boys couldn't focus enough to last to the end of it. Then, I realized I royally fucked up by giving them sugar earlier. They wanted to play hide and seek, and I agreed with a tired sigh.

Unwillingly, I turned around to face the wall. I closed my eyes and began counting, giving them more than enough time to find the perfect hiding spot.

“Three, two, one,” I hollered, making sure they heard me.

The apartment was suspiciously silent and pretty dark. I could definitely feel that weird vibe often present in horror movies. First of all, I checked all the hiding spots in the living room. Then, when I was about to enter the corridor, I felt a presence behind me. Before I managed to react, a hand snaked around my body, covering my mouth, muffling my unexpected screams.

In a second, the person turned me around. I should’ve figured it out it was Jungkook. With a goofy smile, he mentioned me to remain quiet.

“What are you doing? This is not how you play this game,” I whispered, giving him a lecture, but Jungkook only laughed at my reaction.

“Look, they’re finally quiet. You should take your time finding the kids,” Jungkook suggested, and I hummed in agreement. He was right – I should cherish the silence. He was a genius. “Shh…,” he added, pressing his forefinger against his perfect lips.

Maybe the atmosphere wasn’t perfect, but I just couldn’t help myself. We were standing there in the dark, completely still. I couldn’t fight this temptation.

Acting out of my urge, I took a step forward and gave him a chaste kiss. It was a delicate brush of my lips against his, but it was just perfect. And apparently, I wasn’t the only one who enjoyed this innocent form of affection.

The moment I pulled away, Jungkook grinned, placing his hands on my hips. Staring down at me, he yanked me against his firm body, leaning forward for another kiss. Tenderly, his mouth moved, feeling my lips.

Within seconds, the kiss became even more passionate. Smiling, Jungkook began to nibble on the sensitive skin of my lips, and I hummed in pleasure. With my arms wrapped around his neck, I opened my mouth slightly, allowing him to deepen the kiss.

“Fuck,” Jungkook loudly cursed as he bit my bottom lip, making me shriek in pain. At first, I thought he was just getting turned on, but then I realized what happened. It was Taehyung. He was standing right beside Jungkook, smiling as if he did something inappropriate. “He bit me!” Jungkook exclaimed, massaging his thigh, trying to ease the pain.

“He bit you?” I asked, being confused as ever. “Is that true, Taehyung?” I questioned the boy, but instead of answering me, he ran away to another room, chuckling like a maniac. Now, that was odd. “What is going on?”

The grandparents were supposed to arrive over an hour ago; I was losing my patience here.

“This kid bit me,” Jungkook carried on, unable to comprehend this entire situation. Well… he wasn’t the only one who couldn’t wrap his head around this. What the fuck was wrong with them? “What is this?” Jungkook asked as he felt something on this thigh. “Ew, it’s his tooth!”

That was enough.

It was about time I set up some rules.

“Let’s find them, meet me in the living room in five minutes,” I ordered before we split up to search more ground. The boys were getting out of hand, and they had to be stopped. For the love of God, Taehyung bit Jungkook!

“Have you found them?” Jungkook hollered, and I shook my head.

They vanished.

“I know it’s very irresponsible, but how about ditching this place?” I offered, even though I already knew the answer. They were just kids; we couldn’t just walk out, leaving them alone.

“It’s tempting, but we shouldn’t do that,” Jungkook spoke, regretting making the adult decision. “Isn’t that Namjoon?” He asked, and I turned to look where he was pointing at.

“Wait there, young man!” I yelled, storming out of the room, following Namjoon. The second I turned to the left, Namjoon was nowhere to be seen. It was weird; he must’ve run into one of the rooms. Unfortunately, before I managed to make up my mind, which room I should check first, someone pushed me onto the ground. It made me fall on my knees, painfully bruising them. “What the fuck?” I looked behind my shoulder, seeing Jin bolt off to the living room.

“Are you okay?” Jungkook asked in concern as he approached me, helping me stand up. “What is wrong with them?”

“I have no idea. The boys seemed fine earlier,” I spoke, seeing Taehyung run towards us. In a matter of seconds, he jumped at Jungkook, wrapping his hands around his neck, dangling off his back. “Hold still,” I ordered, but Jungkook was in panic, afraid of earning another wound.

I wanted to peel the kid off Jungkook’s back, but there was something wrong with Taehyung. Though he was a good boy, right now, there was something inhuman about him. He behaved like a wild animal with rabies, and it crept me out as fuck.

Jungkook smashed his back against the wall, hoping Taehyung would loosen the grip around his neck. At this moment, Jungkook felt as if the little boy was strangling him.

Unfortunately, the impact didn’t do much help.

Then I saw it. There must’ve been something really wrong with them. Taehyung’s eyes were all black with a few black veins around them, making him look extra creepy.

“Fuck this shit, let’s go,” I yanked Jungkook’s arm, wanting to get the hell away from this apartment. There was something wrong with them, and it wasn’t a part of my job to find out what. I was about to babysit them until seven o’clock and leave.

It wasn’t a part of the deal.

“We can’t leave,” Jungkook argued, but I didn’t want to listen.

“We’ll call the police,” I spoke, desperately trying to convince Jungkook to escape this trap. “They’ll send someone here to check up on them,” I added, running to the living room to get my bag. “Let’s go before I drag you out of here.” Maybe my words sounded like a threat, but it successfully made Jungkook move.

“It’s locked,” Jungkook said when he tried to pull the doors open. Though I didn’t lock it after Jungkook’s entrance, the doors wouldn’t budge now. “Do you have a key?”

Trapped inside the apartment, we looked at each other. None of us knew what to do next.

Then, the lights went out.

As if we weren’t already crept out.

“What is the plan?” Jungkook inquired, searching for my hand to hold onto something.

“Stay calm,” I answered, not realizing that quoting the office wasn’t the best idea at the moment. “You try everything to open the doors. Kungfu the shit out of them if you have to,” I ordered, and Jungkook hummed in understanding. “I’ll distract the kids.”

It wasn’t the wisest decision to make, but somebody had to do it. I wasn’t exceptionally proud of myself, but what could a bunch of weird kids do to me?

“Be careful,” Jungkook whispered before I turned on the torch on my phone, looking for the kids around the apartment.

They had to be hiding in one of the rooms. Having taken a confident sigh, I pushed one of the doors open, stepping into Namjoon’s bedroom. The space was spotless, and it was hard to believe it was one of the children’s rooms.

“Game over, Namjoon,” I spoke, urging him to show himself. “You won,” I added, as I kneeled on the carpet to check if he was hiding under the bed. He wasn’t there. “It’s not funny,” I exclaimed, marching towards the closet, anxious about opening it.

It had to be done, though.

Abruptly, I opened the closet, hoping I’d be the first to react if it was indeed Namjoon’s hiding spot. Unfortunately, I wasn’t. Before I managed to prepare myself, Namjoon pushed me, making me painfully fall on my back.

“You little fucker,” I yelled, groaning in pain, earning probably another big ass bruise. “You’re gonna regret that,” I added, unable to control my anger any longer. I was getting easy on them, but it was enough. Now, I’d punch them in the face if I had to.

Namjoon was staring down at me with these creepy black eyes of a demon. His eyes studied my movement, almost as if he was a predator, waiting for the best moment to strike its prey. Then he screeched, jumping right at me in an attempt to bite me.

This time around, however, my reflexes were quicker. Before Namjoon landed on top of me, I rolled to the side, kicking him in his stomach, sending him flying across the room. I couldn’t believe I just did that, but when Namjoon stood up as if nothing happened, I understood I had to go all the way if I wanted to make it out alive.

Quickly, I jumped to my feet, determined to Bruce Lee kick the devil’s spawn into another dimension with my close-to-none self-defense skills. Women in stress could pick up cars, and I had to beat up an eight-year-old.

I could handle it.

Easy peasy lemon squeezy.

Bouncing on my legs like on the ready mode in a fighting game, I stared at my opponent. Namjoon was the first to attack, and I just jumped at the side, not wanting to get bitten. Unfortunately, Namjoon still managed to scratch my arm, drawing blood.

“You’re dead,” I threatened when I saw that he tore the sleeve of my favorite turtleneck. With anger in my eyes, I approached him, throwing punches left and right. My fists collided against Namjoon’s jaw, but no matter how much force I used, it didn’t seem to have any impact on him. He didn’t feel any pain, and it pissed me off.

With a hiss, Namjoon jumped at me, wrapping his hands and arms around my torso. His mouth was dangerously close to my throat, so in a state of complete panic, I started to spin around, trying to shake him off of me.

Now, Namjoon’s room was a complete mess – especially when I walked into a mirror, smashing it into a thousand pieces. Namjoon and I were rolling in the broken glass, earning plenty of tiny cuts across our bodies.

“That’s enough,” I warned him as I spat blood on the carpet. “Say hello to Satan for me, will you?” I added before I pushed him out of the window without any regrets. Namjoon kept screaming, but when his tiny body smashed against the pavement, the peculiar screeching finally stopped. “Yippee-ki-yay, motherfucker,” I whispered, unable to control myself.

I just killed a kid, and the first thing that came to my mind was quoting Die Hard.

It wasn’t the time for celebration. There were still two children running around the apartment.

Looking around Namjoon’s room, I found a baseball bat. That’ll do, I thought to myself as I stared at my new-found weapon.

“Jungkook!” I shouted.

Once I was in the corridor, I saw the doors. They were open, but Jungkook was out of sight. Did he seriously ditch me here alone? No, it wasn’t possible. Jungkook would never do that.

The boys must’ve done something to him.

One by one, I checked all the rooms, but I found nothing. It almost felt as if I was alone in this creepy apartment.

“Cut the crap, boys,” I hollered, ready to smack anybody in the face with my baseball bat. I was done playing games. I just wanted to go home and wrap myself in blankets in front of a television. “Come out! I don’t have the whole day,” I added, looking around.

I was on high alert. Adrenaline and other hormones were running through my veins, enhancing my senses. Then I heard it – the sound was coming from the staircase. Quickly, I ran out of the apartment, checking the reason behind this commotion.

It was a yellow ball. Somebody must’ve thrown it. Leaning over the railing, I looked up, trying to spot the villain behind this prank. Then I heard giggles. It must’ve been Taehyung.

“Get down here, right now,” I ordered, but the boy didn’t listen. “You’re going to be so dead when I get up there,” I warned, skipping two steps at a time, climbing the stairs.

On the top of the stairs, Taehyung was sitting comfortably, playing with a yo-yo. His face was stretched into a creepy smile, and in all honesty, it gave me chills.

“Get down here,” I repeated myself, but Taehyung didn’t even budge. “Where is Jungkook? What did you do to him?” I asked and received no answer.

Angrily, I walked upstairs, swinging my baseball bat around. Taehyung tried to mess with me with his yo-yo, but I managed to catch the toy and pull it out of his hands.

Like a maniac, I swung the bat, repeatedly hitting Taehyung’s head until it turned into a pulp. Wiping the blood off my face with the back of my hand, I turned around, studying the area. There was one more child out there, and I couldn’t lose my focus just yet.

“Where are you, Jin?” I shouted, waiting for a sign from the boy.

“Here,” Jin whispered, as he emerged from the shadows, pushing me off the stairs.

It was a painful fall, but thankfully, I didn’t break my neck. I felt a pulsating sensation in my left ankle, but besides that, I was fine.

Groaning in pain, I watched Jin slowly descend the stairs. His weird-ass demon eyes were drilling holes in my face, his lips turning into a devilish sneer. Step by step, he made his way downstairs, enjoying the way I tried to crawl away from him. The anticipation was draining me of energy; he was going to murder me, and I could just watch him do it.

“Help!” I shouted though I doubted anyone could hear me. “Somebody call the police!” I carried on but to no avail.

Jin was maybe thirty centimeters away from me, savoring my misery. Slowly, he tilted his head to the side, showing me his teeth, ready to tear me apart.

I had maybe a minute of life left, and I was going to spend it looking into my killer’s eyes.

That was sick.

When Jin was about to jump at me, I heard a noise coming from the apartment.

The scene unfolded in front of my eyes so soon, I couldn’t properly react to it. Right before Jin took a final leap towards me, Jungkook emerged out of the apartment with a fireplace poker, piercing it through Jin’s neck.

Jin’s blood, like a fountain, squirted on me. With my eyes closed, I waited for this moment to end. A few seconds later, I could hear Jin’s dead body collapse to the side.

“Are you okay?” I asked Jungkook, who dropped onto the floor beside me in shock.

“I just killed a kid,” Jungkook whispered, still unable to process what just happened. “When you walked away to look for the kids, I heard a noise in the kitchen. It was Jin, and when I entered, he began throwing shit at me. That motherfucker cut my face,” he added, showing me his fresh wound on his beautiful cheek. “Then, he stabbed my side with the knife and locked me in the closet,” he added, squeezing his side, trying to numb the pain.

“Let’s get the hell away from here,” I spoke, trying to stand up. It was difficult with all my wounds, but I couldn’t stand being inside this building.

CHRISTMAS DAY

We just killed three children.

At first, we had no clue what to do next, but then, I listened to my voice of reason – Jungkook. No matter how bad it looked, we had to go to the police.

Hand in hand, we slowly walked to the nearest police station. People were turning their heads when we were passing by them. I couldn’t blame them. I looked like Carrie with better clothing, while Jungkook seemed to have survived a zombie apocalypse.

When we entered the police station, everybody stared at us. Wobbling, we approached the front desk. “We killed three children,” I admitted, realizing how bad it sounded without the context.

The policeman was shocked. He didn’t witness this kind of thing regularly.

A few minutes later, we were escorted to a questioning room, where we could describe everything in great detail. Unfortunately, they didn’t seem to buy our story, thinking we were trying to pull some kind of a prank.

Taking all precautions, they called in an ambulance. We were seriously injured, and we needed some medical care. Though the doctor did a great job, I’d kill to get some better painkillers.

Once our wounds were dressed, the police locked us in custody. We had to wait until a pair of policemen checked the apartment and secure the evidence.

“Merry Christmas, Jungkook,” I whispered as I looked at my wristwatch, realizing it was already past one o’clock. “I know we had different plans, but out of all people, I am glad I was stuck there with you. You saved my life,” I carried on, looking at Jungkook fondly.

“We killed three children,” he replied, still shaken after what had happened. Perhaps, he didn’t need me now, but I really wanted to hug him and tell him that everything’s gonna be alright. Too bad that we were locked in two different cells.

“In self-defense,” I added since Jungkook often seemed to forget that part.

After ten minutes of painful silence, one of the guards walked up to the custody, unlocking our cells. What else did they want to know? We already said everything we knew.

“You’re free to go,” the guard announced, surprising us immensely. “It was an elaborate prank, but don’t ever do that again, or else, we’re going to seriously put you in jail,” he warned, urging us to leave.

“I don’t understand,” I wondered out loud, unable to process what was going on. “I thought you sent your men to check out the crime scene.”

“We did, and the apartment you wanted us to check out was empty. We talked with the landlord, and he said this flat has been vacant for the last year,” the guard explained, making me and Jungkook gasp in shock.

What the fuck was going on?

In complete silence, with our heads hanging low, we exited the police station.

“What now?”

“Let’s just go home and watch Die Hard,” Jungkook whispered, still trying to wrap his head around what had happened inside the apartment. We almost died in there. However, when the police checked it, it was like we had never been there.

My apartment was closer, so we both headed there. Our moves were robotic, our heads were empty. At this point, we just wanted to sit down and keep our minds busy, so we wouldn’t try to analyze what happened back there.

It wasn’t a figment of our imagination. Our wounds were concrete evidence that we were telling the truth. Unfortunately, the police didn’t want to believe us. However, as the saying goes – no body, no crime.

In light of the law, we were innocent.

As soon as we entered my apartment, we sat down on the floor, resting our back against the sofa. Mindlessly, I grabbed the remote and turned Die Hard on Netflix.

“Do you want to talk about it?” I whispered as I interlaced my fingers with Jungkook’s, resting my head on his shoulder. “Or we can just pretend it never happened. Let’s just say we watched a really weird movie or went to a hardcore escape room,” I added, studying Jungkook’s arm tattoos, getting lost in his skin art.

“I’ve known you a few days,” Jungkook started, staring into my eyes. “But I’ve experienced more stress than in my entire life altogether,” he added with a sigh, placing a delicate peck against my neck.

“Actually, my life is pretty boring,” I admitted, though I knew where Jungkook’s words were coming from. I wouldn’t believe myself, either. “It took a 180 on that ice rink,” I reasoned, trying to find a connection.

“You’re beautiful,” Jungkook confessed genuinely, staring at my face with his big sparkly eyes. He was bullshitting me, but I didn’t have enough energy to argue with him. How could I be beautiful? My hair was all sticky due to all the blood which the doctor hadn’t washed off. My skin was covered with cuts and bruises. Even my clothes were ripped. I was certain Jungkook didn’t mean it, but I wasn’t going to admit that.

“You’re beautiful, too,” I beamed, teasing him. “Even after what we’ve been through today, you’re absolutely breathtaking,” I added, and Jungkook looked away, trying to hide his red cheeks. Carefully, I cupped his face, pressing another delicate kiss against his lips.

Just like feathers, our lips moved against each other. No rush, no hastiness, just pure delight.

Though we were both sore and exhausted, we took our time. Maybe it was past three o’clock now, but we didn’t care. I could stay up all night, kissing him like that.

Slowly, Jungkook’s hands found purchase on my hips, carefully pulling me closer on top of his thighs. Gently, I began rubbing my sex against his muscular legs, trying not to make him hiss. His beautiful thighs had already suffered enough damage when Taehyung had bitten him – I didn’t want to inflict any more pain.

“I wish I could fuck you the way I want to,” Jungkook confessed, taking me aback with his filthy words. He was a good soft boy with a heart of gold; how could he talk dirty to me like that? It was out of his calm and collected character, but I absolutely loved it.

“Don’t worry, I think I’m gonna stick around at least until you’re fully recovered,” I answered with a teasing tone as I reached down to his zipper, freeing his semi-hard cock. “Do you have any plans for New Year’s Eve? Or Valentine’s Day?” I questioned, but Jungkook was too busy to answer right away, ripping my tights apart.

“Actually, I do,” Jungkook mentioned with a lopsided smirk upon his face. “I’m gonna be sitting here between your thighs, buried deep inside your pussy. How do you like that?” He asked mischievously, biting my bottom lip before I managed to reply.

“I hope you’re not all talk,” I answered, staring down at his dick. Carefully, I pulled it out of his pants, giving it a few strokes before I raised my hips, slowly sinking down on his length. “Mmm…” I purred, feeling a pleasant stretch.

“I should’ve prepped you,” Jungkook whispered as he felt my walls slowly adjust to his girth.

“Nah, it’s all fine,” I spoke, getting all comfortable on his dick. “There’s always a next time.”

With a languid, stable pace, I rocked my hips back and forth, riding him. Going this slow allowed me to properly feel every inch of him. It was intimate, and I enjoyed it much more than any mindless pounding, which didn’t always get me off. With Jungkook under me, I was in complete control. He was obedient and responsive to my movements, really making it look easy to push me over the edge.

“I’m coming,” I moaned, feeling the approaching orgasm. Jungkook, instead of messing with my tempo, grabbed my hips, helping me maintain my current pace. “Fuck, Jungkook,” I hissed when he gently pushed his cock deeper inside of me, being seconds away from his own release.

“Come around my cock,” Jungkook ordered, and I obeyed his order, falling into a million pieces on top of him, screaming his name. Thankfully, Jungkook’s hands held me in place. Otherwise, I’d once again collapse onto the floor. “Argh,” Jungkook grunted, shooting his load inside of me. “I want to go again,” he added as soon as he calmed down after the powerful orgasm.

“I think it’ll have to wait,” I answered, though I’d love to go another round. “We can try in the morning. Right now, I need a shower,” I added, and Jungkook nodded his head, resting it between my boobs, too lazy to let me go.

He was still balls deep inside of me, and his cum was slowly oozing out of my pussy, but none of us wanted to move. It felt as pleasant as it was nasty, but we didn’t mind.

“Do you mind if I join you?” Jungkook asked innocently, batting his eyelashes in an attempt to woo me. “That would save lots of water,” he added, and I didn’t want to argue with his reasoning.

“Why the hell not? Let’s go before I change my mind,” I spoke, giving him a hand, helping him stand up. “But,” I added, sternly staring at the boy beside me. “Until we’re fully recovered, it’s just a shower.”

“Sure thing.”

#jungkook smut #jeongguk smut #jeongguk fluff #jungkook fluff #jungkook #jeon jungkook #bts smut #bts fluff #christmas smut #bts christmas #bts #bangtan smut

293 notes · View notes

peach-pops · 4 years

Text

Roommate HC

Request: hi i love ur account! do u think u could write a HC with kuroo, oikawa, and bokuto on how they would be as roommates! thank you!

Author’s Note: This request had me dying thank u so much! I made this to be platonic but if u guys want a part 2 to make them like each other/you want to see other roommate hc with other characters, let me know!

Warning: mentions of sex, adult language, reader thirsting over iwaizumi cause same

Pairing: Kuroo || Oikawa || Bokuto

Part two

-Kuroo-

You can only be roommates if you’re hella close with Kuroo because if you’re living in a closed space together, shit is bound to happen. He’s basically you’re best friend so nothing is off-limits.

Exhibit A: Shower rants

“ And I told her to mind her own damn business before I kicked her ass!” You said loudly as you sat on the counter of the sink while Kuroo was showering

“ You liar I know you didn’t say all that. Also, can you hand me my toothbrush?”

“ Mm, okay, I didn’t say it but I was thinking it!” You grabbed Kuroo’s toothbrush and opened the curtain to hand it to him,” it’s the thought that counts but then she told me that I was being a bitch! In front of the whole class!”

Kuroo opened the shower curtain to poke his head out,” She called you a bitch in front of the class? What a fucking bitch.”

I feel like Kuroo sleeps in a bit and waits until the last second to wake up so you’re basically his alarm clock

Your favorite way to wake him up is to just bash his head with a pillow until he grabs it from you and hits you back with it ten times harder

“ I think you gave me a concussion.”

“ I- It’s a pillow, you big baby.”

Getting ready in the morning is always pretty chill since Kuroo practically rolls out of the bed, looks at his hair, and decides yep, this is stylish

If he has extra time in the morning, he’ll sit on your bed and watch you do your makeup/hair as you tell him your schedule for the day just cause he can

Can we please remember that Kuroo is a big nerd so that means a lot of all-nighters at the dinner table. If you know he has a big test coming up, you order takeout from his favorite restaurant and you have to physically sit across from him so he actually takes a break to eat dinner

Sometimes he falls asleep at the table while studying so you always grab his phone to set a 15-minute alarm because while he needs to sleep, he also needs the time to study too

On chill days, Kenma usually comes over and the two play video games until the middle of the night. While they’re always super loud, that’s a lie it’s just Kuroo, but whenever they get too loud you come out of your room and you just glare Kuroo down

“ What’s wrong with your face?”

“ My face? This face will be the last thing you ever see if you don’t shut the fuck up. Kenma sweetie, ✨you’re doing great✨!”

OH okay this is just a bonus

so your upstairs neighbors are like bunnies if ya know what I mean. Like they go at it 25/8 and you and Kuroo can’t stand it because how are yall supposed to concentrate

One night while you and Kuroo are watching a movie, you can literally hear your neighbors having crazy-ass sex and Kuroo gets so petty. He grabs a broom from the kitchen and starts hitting it against the ceiling like

‘ Shut! The! Hell! Up!”

“ STOP! What if they get mad?”

“ Who cares? I haven’t had sex in months. If I can’t get laid than no one can get laid!”

“ I don’t even want to think about you and *gags* sex in the same sentence.”

So all in all, Kuroo is probably the easiest roommate to have and you two just work so well together

-Oikawa-

Oikawa isn’t as bad as a roommate as people might think. He’s surprisingly clean and not only does he clean up after himself but he always cleans up after you. He will sass you on how messy you are though

“ Y/N-Chan, I can’t even see the floor to your bedroom, you’re disgusting! I can’t even look at you the same way!”

“ If it’s bothering you then get the hell out of my room!”

“ Your room is a biohazard, how can you live like this?”

“ I SAID GET OUT SHITTYKAWA!”

There’s only one bathroom in your apartment so it’s always a battle to get ready in the morning. His side of the sink has way more stuff than you and you even try out some of his products if they happen to find their way to your side

You can’t even hide it from Oikawa because once you leave the restroom, he notices right away

“ Are you wearing that SPF moisturizer I bought from that new skincare store the other day?”

“ Wha- how did you know?”

“ I can smell it you rat, stop using my skincare products!”

He says that but the next day when you wake up to use the restroom, you see that he bought you your own moisturizer and there’s a sticky note on it ‘ because you desperately need some’

Oikawa also always manages to lose his glasses in the morning so when he’s late, he always wakes you up to help him find his glasses which are somewhere around the apartment

“ Bitch, how hard is it to keep it next to your nightstand before you go to bed?”

“ I forget” 🥺👉🏼👈🏼Oikawa pouts as he squints back at you cause he’s a blind bitch

If Oikawa is your roommate, that definitely means Iwaizumi, Matsukawa, and Hanamaki are always over. One time in the middle of the night, you went to go get a glass of water and you screamed so loud when you saw a dark figure sleeping on your couch

Your heart literally dropped to the floor but when you squinted your eyes, you could make out that it was Hanamaki just crashing on your couch

Thank god, you actually thought there was a stranger-

What you didn’t know was that Matsukawa was sleeping on the floor of the living room and you tripped over his huge, built ass body

“ Y/N? Is that you? Are you okay?”

“ I’m fine-”

“ Ow! Y/N, that’s my hand!”

“ Shit! Sorry- wait, Hajime? Is that you? What the hell-Who else is sleeping here?”

“ Meeeee!”

“Toru?!?! What are you doing out here?” You asked as you turned on the lights to find all four boys camped out in the living room. TF is this? Summercamp???

“ Duh, it’s a sleepover! Wanna join? You can lay next to me Y/N-Chan!”

“ Fuck no you weirdo. Except for you Hajime😚 my room is always open for you!” 🤩🥰🤪🤰🏻

Oh speaking of frick fracking, you and Oikawa have a solid rule that if you’re planning on having sex, please let the other roommate know so there’s not a repeat of that one incident you’re not allowed to speak of

Toru: Can you be out of the house from 8:30-9:30? I’m bringing someone over👉🏼👌🏼

Y/N: You bastard I was going to bring someone over!

Toru: Oh yeah? Who u trying to fuck?👀👀👀

Y/N: Hajime 🤤🤤🤤🤤

Toru: STOP THIRSTING AFTER MY FRIENDS

Y/N: BUT IT’S TRUE LOVE!

Besides all of that mess, Oikawa is such a fun roommate. If yall could live together forever, you definitely would because the banter never stops between the two of you, yall are like an old married couple uwu

-Bokuto-

JESUS you two take a while to mesh

You two are best friends so when he suggested to move in together, you were all for it

But it just took some getting used to

Bokuto wakes up sooooo early to go run and this means blasting music in the shower at 5am & him blending the shit out a smoothie in the kitchen

One time, this dude barged into your room around 5:20 in the morning and had THE AUDACITY to ask if you wanted to go run with him

“ I feel bad leaving you here in the apartment alone, what if you miss me?”

“ If you ever wake me up this early to go run out of all things, I will shave your head do not test me owl.”

He never asks you again don’t worry but he does walk in your room to whisper, rather loudly, that he’s leaving to go run just to give you a heads up

On some mornings when he knows you’re going to have a long day at school, he’ll make you breakfast and it’s actually super sweet cause you two will eat together in the kitchen and talk about what the plan for the day is

If he’s ever too lazy to make breakfast, he’ll grab your favorite pastries during his run and bring it home cause he’s just that type of person

Bokuto is a bit messy and you find yourself cleaning up after him a lot but he makes up for it by being an absolute sweetheart

He assembled all the furniture in the apartment because he likes building stuff and he claims it’s manly. Don’t Mind my language but ✨U couldn’t give a shit ✨about building furniture so you were 100% okay with it

Akaashi came over to help put the couch together and that was arguably the most entertaining thing you had ever seen

“ Bokuto-San, I’m pretty sure these pieces don’t fit.”

“ Akaashi! Are you doubting my ability to read and follow instructions?!?!”

“ I think he’s right, those don’t fit at all.”

*cue emo bokuto ughhhhhhh this bitch*

Whenever Bokuto gets emo at home, you drop everything to help him get out of his funk. Not because what you’re doing isn’t important but if you don’t help, this dude will show up next to your bed full on close to crying

“ Ko, it’s two in the morning, why are you awake?”

“ Are you angry at me that I broke that plate earlier?”

“ Wha- no I’m not mad over a cheap plate. Just go to bed PLEASE!”

No matter how busy yalls schedule gets, you two always make time to have a movie night at least once a week because he claims it’s good for roommate moral

It’s just an excuse for him to snack through the pantry but whatever

He’s also the worst at grocery shopping. Like he notices all the snacks and desserts you like so he’ll buy so much of those things but will fail to get actual protein and vegetables

I know it seems like I’m shitting on Bokuto and I’m not, I feel like Bokuto would also be such a fun roommate. There are some nights where you two will dance around together in your pajamas and camp out on the couch together and those are the moments where you’re thankful he’s your roommate

But he snores so loud I’M SORRY I HAD TO SAY IT

745 notes · View notes

words-writ-in-starlight · 4 years

Note

White Collar ot3 number 14, 18 and/or 29 for the ship asks because you just reminded me how much I adore them today. Thank you and happy birthday!!

I cut this bad boy for length because I sure can go on about these three. That first one is basically a whole fic. Thank you, my birthday was great!

14) When one has a cold, what does the other do?

This feels like a great opportunity to talk about one of my favorite things to think about with this OT3, which is The First Time Neal Gets Sick, AKA The Time Peter And Elizabeth Almost Had A Heart Attack.

The thing is, they expect dramatics. Neal is someone who leans on dramatics as 70% of his social charms, and if you'd held a hot brand to Peter's skin while he was chasing Neal over half the godforsaken country, back in the day, he'd have said that Neal would be the type to wring every minor illness for all it was worth. Not, like, out of any particular irritation for that particular behavior--Elizabeth is the kind of person who gets dramatically sick even if all she has is a cold, and if he's being perfectly honest Peter kind of enjoys babying his wife for a few days--but just because. Well. All Neal ever does is make sure all eyes are on him, seeing exactly what he wants, doing exactly what he needs. It's the con he's best at, Neal's favorite magic trick: sweep everyone up in the delirium of those blue eyes and that shattering smile and take everything they've got in their distraction.

So anyway, then Neal doesn't show up to work. He's an hour late. Two hours late. By the third hour, Peter is silently doing the math for how far Neal could get on his anklet without setting it off, and then for any loopholes he might have missed--faking the signal somehow? Neal's passable but not phenomenal with computers, but could he have hired someone? Peter's never heard of someone pulling that off, but Neal's got an aura about him, that makes the impossible seem merely improbable.

It is very important that this be an issue of Neal trying to run, because if it's not, then something might have happened to him. Neal hasn't exactly been endearing himself to the criminal underworld lately.

At three hours and forty-nine minutes past Neal's appointed arrival time, Peter takes an early lunch break and goes to June's. He knocks on Neal's door for a few minutes, and then goes and politely 'acquires' the spare key from the staff and lets himself in.

Neal is asleep on the couch, buried in every blanket he could find in his apartment, and he blinks hazily at Peter for a second when Peter shakes him and then bolts upright so fast that Peter has to move or get concussed.

"Peter," Neal says in a good approximation of his usual good humor. "What are you doing here?"

"You didn't show up to work," Peter says, reaching out toward Neal's forehead automatically. Neal dodges him and Peter sees the dizzy wave cross his face. "Are you sick?"

"I'm fine," Neal says, and then immediately starts coughing, a wet sharp cough that hurts to listen to. "Sorry I'm late, I--fuck, is it past noon? Okay, just--give me a second, I can get ready to go--"

"How long have you been sick, Neal?"

It takes Peter the better part of fifty minutes to wring the facts out of Neal, and he does not like the facts, thanks. He more or less forces Neal back into the blanket nest on the couch and calls El, apologizes for interrupting one of her rare days off and asks her to bring Neal literally anything, and shuts down Neal's fourth attempt to convince Peter that he's fine.

Neal seems...really bothered by the idea that Peter knows he's sick, let alone Elizabeth, and Peter doesn't like what that implies. About anything. At least it doesn't seem personal--Neal doesn't seem to want anyone to know that he's sick, so much so that he's been taking double doses of DayQuil and drinking straight espresso in order to smother all his symptoms at work for the past three days. Peter does some quick math in his head about the number of DayQuil that would require and says "You're lucky you're not in the ER," and Neal says, "I know what I'm doing, Peter," in that voice that means he's thinking about getting offended.

"You're going to give yourself liver failure, is what you're doing. Why didn't you just call out sick, Neal, Jesus Christ." It's blunter than he meant to be--actually, Peter meant to let El work on Neal for a few hours before he came back to play Blunt Cop--but Neal looks awful and he has a fever and he's been taking ten DayQuil in a ten hour work day and Peter does actually read labels and Peter made him stay late at work two days ago because Peter didn't know he was sick.

And maybe it's because Neal's sick, maybe it's because the fever is blurring his reaction time, maybe Peter just knows him really well by this point, but he sees the second that Neal's face closes up and he goes from "defensive" to "ready to do whatever he needs to do in order to get Peter to back down".

And then Neal smiles, all guileless blue eyes and blithe schoolboy innocence, and he says, "Come on, Peter, you'd have thought I was trying to run."

It stings inordinately. Peter did think that, this morning, but only because Neal fucking vanished, didn't come in, didn't answer his phone, didn't even leave a message with someone when Peter showed up. If Neal had said he was sick, Peter might have come by to check on him--and sure, seeing that he was really sick would have put those concerns to bed, but--

"Besides," Neal is continuing, and his voice is starting to show the effect of the coughing now, and he's trying to get up again, wavering on his feet a little before he blinks twice and visibly forces himself to steady. "I'm fine. And even if I wasn't, it's what, seven hundred dollars a month? That's not covering a doctor, and it's not like I have pneumonia. It's just a cold, Uncle Sam, I can still go to work."

And then Neal gives Peter the slip while Peter's still sitting there, stinging.

And the thing is, he doesn't even know if Neal really thinks that of him, or if Neal just knew it would make him shut up long enough for Neal to walk into his bathroom and take more fucking DayQuil.

Well, fine, then. Peter can fight dirty too, and to prove it, he walks the ten feet to the door and leans back against it, just out of an excess of caution, as he pulls out his phone. First he texts his wife, because she's a very smart woman and deserves to have all the information. Second, he calls his boss, because he's already well outside his lunch break and he might as well do the thing properly. Neal comes out of the bathroom, wearing fresh slacks and an unbuttoned white shirt, just as Peter says, "Yes, sir, I'll keep an eye on him."

Then Peter hangs up and points his phone at Neal and says, "Lie the hell back down before I taze you. You're off until next week, and I'm taking the day off to make sure you don't go into organ failure. Don't you dare," he adds when Neal takes a purposeful step toward the kitchenette and its coffee maker. "El is going to be here with actual cold medicine in thirty minutes. Take those slacks off and lie down in your actual bed."

"I'm fine," Neal says again, as if he's not struggling with a shirt button for the first time since Peter's met him, including multiple occasions of being handcuffed.

"You're really not," Peter says, and then he pauses for a moment, and looks at the way Neal's fingers pause on the button, and then he says, a little cautiously, "And that's fine. Everyone gets sick, Neal."

"I don't need you to babysit me," Neal mutters.

"I'm only babysitting you because, apparently, you take life-ending doses of caffeine and cold medicine when you're left alone. Come on, Neal, this won't be the end of the world, El will bring you some food that won't hurt your throat and I'll let you make me watch one of your boring foreign films."

"I know your secrets," Neal says, and then pauses to cough up what's probably part of his failing liver, not that Peter is feeling any doom and gloom about this whole thing. "You watch romcoms with Elizabeth, she told me you enjoy things other than football and you'll never fool me again."

"Yeah, you got me," Peter says with a faint grin. He walks away from the door like he's approaching a feral dog, and closes his hands gently but inexorably around Neal's wrists, and then steers him firmly back onto the couch. Neal's skin is hot even through his shirt, and he trips twice, and he lets Peter push him down into the blankets like he's too tired to do anything else. "I'm going to go get you pajamas. Where do you keep them?"

"Second drawer," Neal says dismally.

"Okay," Peter says, and doesn't give into his impulse to maybe, like, brush Neal's rumpled curls out of his face or something. Half the reason that Peter caught him in the first place is because Peter knows when to press his advantage. He takes the win and gets Neal some pajamas.

18) When they fight, how do they make up?

Elizabeth is the best at this, because she works with vendors all the time and that makes her a literal professional at conflict resolution. She has a temper and she’ll lose her cool with the best of them, but she knows how to say “I need a minute” and then she’ll leave and come back when she can be reasonable. She’ll lay out what she’s upset about, hear the other person out, and then either apologize or expect an apology. Then she’s the physical touch kind of person after a fight--she’ll take Peter’s hands and link their fingers together, or wrap her arms around Neal from behind with her cheek between his shoulder blades, and just kind of...rest against them until everyone’s tension starts to bleed out of them.

Peter isn’t an innately high-empathy person and he knows this, so it’s sometimes hard for him to figure out when a fight even started, let alone how to fix it. He gets frustrated with himself for not knowing what to do, and then it’s easy for Elizabeth or Neal to feel like he’s mad at them for being mad at him, and then everyone gets madder and it’s just stressful. So Peter’s the type to ask explicitly “wait, are we fighting” because, first of all, he would like to know so he can figure out how to resolve it, and, second of all, he’s discovered that being clear about it will sometimes shock everyone involved into taking a step back and figuring out if they’re arguing at all or if they’re both just frustrated. After they’ve managed to figure out what’s wrong and talked it out, Peter’s an acts of service kind of person after a fight--his specific brand is to make someone’s favorite meal, regardless of who was doing the apologizing.

Neal is...not good at conflict. For obvious reasons, he’s inclined toward avoiding conflict when he can, and bailing immediately afterward when he can’t. The first time he actually fought with Elizabeth, she had to come to his apartment and hammer on his door until he let her in. Neal’s never really been able to argue with someone and then have them still be there except for maybe Mozzie, and it’s an extremely rough adjustment for everyone. It requires a lot of patience from Elizabeth and Peter, and a lot of anxiety from Neal, for them to find a balance about it. But Neal is a gifts person after an argument, once he learns to be anything after an argument, and not just extravagant things. He brings flowers or Elizabeth’s favorite mixers or one of the boring patterned ties that Peter loves, he brings a paperweight or a mug, a hair pin, a new set of dress shoe laces, a pair of beautiful earrings, a six-pack of beer, whatever hoves into his field of vision and he can afford to acquire.

29) Why do they fall a little bit more in love?

One time when he got home from work, Peter caught Neal and Elizabeth waltzing in the kitchen while the radio played the Top 40 Hits station, and they were giggling while they tried to keep time to Umbrella, and Neal was complaining about El not letting him play classical while she was cooking, and Neal dipped El so that she could wink at Peter upside down, and they burned dinner because they left the stove on and the three of them got takeout ramen instead.

Peter thinks about that evening sometimes when he’s stuck in traffic.

#white collar #neal caffrey #peter burke #elizabeth burke #ot3 #starlight writes stuff #headcanon meme #ask meme #I WAS GONNA COMPILE THIS WITH THE OTHER ASK ABOUT WHITE COLLAR BUT #THAT FIRST ONE REALLY IS THE FIRST COUPLE HUNDRED WORDS OF A FIC THAT LIVES IN MY HEAD RENT FREE #[sits the entire fandom down] neal transparently grew up with no one in his life who let him rest when he was sick #let's talk about that more #because i think about that all the time #anyway peter and elizabeth basically Install Themselves at neal's for the next couple days #why do i think neal watches foreign films? idk i just Feel It. he would watch all the cdramas and kdramas on netflix.#also sometimes he watches crime shows and critiques the criminals to elizabeth but they don't do that in front of peter #i think peter is the kind of guy who actually really likes romcoms but has trouble admitting it and el doesn't mind that much #elizabeth likes media generally i have Decided This. she just likes stories. anything good OR fun OR interesting will do it for her.#point is that she sets up on Neal's couch and pretends that she's just there to enjoy his movie collection #and if he falls asleep and she winds up with his head in her lap so that she can pet his hair and keep him that way it is Completely An Acc #peter Hovers when people are sick but in like a benevolent 'you always have fresh tea' kind of way #anyway kids don't take too much dayquil because acetaminophen is dangerous thank you for coming to my ted talk #anonymous #asked and answered

61 notes · View notes

ssa-daddyhotchner · 3 years

Text

Undercover - Chapter 23

Chapter Selection

Aaron POV

I was in my office glancing at the doors every few minutes. I was expecting y/n to walk in and go to her desk; she never did. She was still at the house when I left... where the hell is she.

I looked at the clock she was an hour late, I took out my phone and tapped on her contact. The phone started ringing... and kept ringing. Eventually it went to voicemail. Maybe she was still driving and didn't want to answer the phone.

I called again and again and still no answer. I was getting anxious; I stood for my chair and walked into the bullpen, "Have you guys heard from y/n today." They said no and asked what was wrong, I ignored them.

I went down to Garcia's office, typing in the code and going in. I shut the door and stood behind her putting a hand on her chair, "Sir you scared me." I hummed.

"Can you track y/n's phone, I haven't heard from her."

"Ok... it says she is on 5, she's not moving. Hold on- there was an accident that just happened this morning", she said turning to me. "Do you think it's her?"

"I don't know, don't tell the team where I'm going. I need to make sure." Garcia nodded turning to her computers. Going into the elevator I waited for seemed like forever to get to the parking lot. I started driving to 5...

It couldn't be her she would never be reckless. When I arrived at her last location there were cop cars and a fire truck. I approached one of the officers. "Do you know what happened here?"

"Truck rear ended that car. There was one person injured... that's all we know." I tried to ask him what hospital they took the person too but he didn't know. I called Garcia.

"I think it was y/n... from what I can tell it's her car. Where are they taking her."

"Oh my god... uh yeah- they're going to... the General Memorial." I hung up the phone immediately getting into my car and driving. I didn't pay any attention to the speed limit or really any other cars, I just wanted-- needed to get to her.

When I got to the parking lot I ran in going to the front desk, "I'm here for a y/n y/l/n.”

The lady was going to give me a bullshit excuse so I pulled out my credentials and she told me what room to find her in. I went to the 2nd floor room 225, I walked in and there she was.

I saw her chart on the wall, she had a concussion and some miner internal damage but ultimately she was going to be okay. I took a seat next to her bed letting Garcia know she was fine. The car was on fire... if she was in there.

Y/n POV

I didn't open my eyes yet but I could feel another presence in the room. I could smell their cologne and in an instant I knew who it was Aaron. I started moving around; I winced in pain, "You're awake." I sensed him move closer and grab my hand.

I opened my eyes and the lights burned my eyes for a moment before they adjusted. He had a sad smile on his face, "How are you?" My lips tugged upwards, "Good for someone who just got hit by a car..." The realization set in and I remembered the whole event.

I snapped my head towards Aaron, "How's Jack." he furrowed his brows in confusion. "What do you mean? You dropped him off didn't you?" I shook my head. "H- he was in... the car", I let out a small yeah and closed my eyes tight.

"Do you kno- know where he is."

"When I woke up in the car Jack was gone... I didn't see anything." I watched as anger washed over Aaron, his son was missing and I was my fault.

He didn't blame me but himself for not driving with me or taking Jack himself. "We got to tell the team. This is a case till I say otherwise." He walked out the room and made some calls. A few minutes later he walked back in and sat down with me.

Aaron was about to speak when the nurse entered the room, "You're up, how are you feeling on a scale of 1 - 10."

"Maybe 5", She jotted down on my chart and checked my vitals. "You seem to be ok, we'll check up another hour then we can get you the discharge papers and get you out of here." I gave her a smile and resumed the conversation with Aaron.

"Do you know how long it's been since the accident", he sat down in the chair next to me.

"Maybe a few hours, I'm not sure... give me a cognitive."

"Who do you think might've done this." I racked my brain trying to find the answers that were hidden away. My concussion made it harder to remember little details. I sat up in the bed while Aaron turned the lights down.

I held my head in my hands, rubbing my temple like somehow it was going to give me my memory back. I was focusing, running the moments in my mind, going through frame by frame like it was a movie.

"I unbuckled my seatbelt and looked for Jack- he wasn't in the car so I crawled out the broken window. I stumbled my way to the road and I saw a car pass by... shit." I forgot who was driving it but they looked familiar, I couldn't figure out if it was a male or female.

"I'm going to get some sleep... it'll come back to me", Aaron looked down at his hands; a tear falling from his eye onto the floor. I noticed. "Aaron, it’ll be okay. We'll find him." He glanced at me, wiping his eyes.

"Yeah I know", I grabbed his hand and held it reassuringly. I laid back down and closed my eyes.

"Watch out!" I didn't understand what Jack was talking about until it was too late. There was a truck headed towards the car, slamming into the rear end.

Before I knew it the car was tumbling; I got knocked out and when I came too I was upside-down. My vision was fading in and out and my ears were ringing, I made out trees and wet grass.

I was able to unbuckle my seatbelt and turn around- Jack was gone and I didn't see a trace of him anywhere. No blood, clothes... just nothing. I stumbled out of the car and made my way to the road. Seeing a car drive passed, what I did get was a clear view of the driver... Mark.

I jerked up, tugging on Aaron's hand and waking him up as well, "Mark took Jack." When the words fell from my lips Aarons anger returned. He kept calm but I could tell he was fuming underneath. The nurse walked back in, "Here you go."

She dropped off the discharge papers; Aaron signed them in an instant and we left. He took me home, out of habit I checked the mail, oh fucking course. I followed Aaron inside and set the note that he left on the island. We read it together.

You took my child away from me... something special. I can't have you y/n I cared about you. You fucking killed my kid. So I took something from you.

When we were done the letter I got a call from Morgan; I put him on speaker. "Guy's you might want to get back here, this is something I can't say to you over the phone."

I ended the call and hopped back into the car, my head was pounding from all the movement but I didn't care. Aaron rushed back to the office entering the doors and elevator. We reached the bullpen and we saw the team gathered in the round table room.

Rossi nodded to Garcia and she turned on the tv, and it was a live feed.

Jack was in a blacked out room, there were toys on the floor and a flat broken bed. The wallpaper was dingy and peeling. A single window allowed light into the room with crust and dirt almost completely covering it.

Aaron was fuming, I could feel it radiating off of him. I hesitantly reached up to his arm and guided him out to his office away from everyone. "What the fuck!", he yelled out.

"Baby, I'm pissed off too but you need to calm down." He turned, going behind his desk and leaning his hands on it.

"And how exactly am I supposed to fucking do that! Please tell me!", he shouted and I felt small. I backed away from him going into the corner; I felt tears brimming my eyes. I get he was beyond pissed and I was too, Jack was basically a son to me. I let him express the anger.

He slowly calmed down and realized what he did. His face dropped and he hesitantly made his way over to me, "Y/n I'm sorry." He said softly.

"It's fine", my voice was strained trying to keep it together, him yelling... reminded me of- him.

I took my time then I stood in front of him. "I get it, not completely but I do. One time... that's it, we all lose it sometimes-", I went closer to him gripping his jaw and making him look at me in my eyes.

"But if you ever. yell at me like that again, I'm not going to be so understanding", I saw tears in his eyes, the rage melted away and now he was just- missing his son. He nodded and he hugged me, resting his head on mine.

"Trust me, I'm not gonna yell at you again."

2 days later

"Where is he!?", I heard from coming from the bullpen. I glanced at Aaron asleep on the couch and decided to leave him. I opened the door and saw an angry Hayley coming through.

"You can't be here", I stared at her as she came closer to Aarons office. "Fuck the restraining order, where the hell is my son", I knew if she found out that I was with him when he was kidnapped she would quite literally shoot me right here.

I didn't answer but the commotion attracted the attention of everyone in the office. I felt a hand on my lower back and I turned; the yelling woke Aaron up. "What do you want?", she looked at him dumbfounded.

"Is anyone gonna tell me where my goddamn son is?"

"He's not here", Hayley scoffed clearly. "You would think his father would know." I wanted to punch her, I could just imagine my hand hitting her in the jaw.

No one on the team liked Hayley but they thought she should at least know. Rossi walked out of the round table room and called her over. She made her way through the door and was met with the live feed of Jack; he was sleeping in the thin bed.

I watched her as she fell on the floor and was crying. Nobody bothered to pick her up or console her. Eventually she collected herself and stood against the table. Tears still flooding her face she turned to me, "This is your fault, you and your fucking ex husband."

Aaron was quick to cover me and standing in front, "This isn't anyone's fault." Fully standing up she took a step towards him, "Of course you'd say that. You're the one that lost him."

"If you weren't deemed unfit for a time then you would've had him with you. Then you can blame yourself. Like I said this isn't anyone's fault." He spat the words out and I was thinking what she said. In a way this was my fault, it was just Mark. He was behind everything although we already knew that.

If I had never been with Aaron he wouldn't be in this situation, Jack wouldn't be. I pushed the thoughts back in my mind, I didn't notice but Hayley was gone and Garcia had cut the feed.

I walked up to her, "Are you sure you can't track it?" Pen shook her head.

"It's bouncing off of so many proxy servers- I'm sorry." I sighed and went back to Aaron. He had walked back into his office when Hayley left. I softly knocked on the door, "Not right now." Not listening I opened the door, He was laying on the couch with his arm resting on his head.

"I said not right no- oh", he saw me and sat up. I went to the couch and sat down, Aaron laid his head in my lap. I ran my fingers through his hair, "Get some sleep." He closed his eyes; I knew he was sleeping when I felt his breathing steady and he was taking deep breaths.

I moved and got up, careful to not wake him after some time. I turned off the lights and walked out to the briefing room. I was thinking about Jack, just missing his face. I saw the remote in the middle of the table and picked it up.

When I the tv turned on there he was, Jack was awake. It was getting dark out but the camera had night vision. He was scared and cold; I could see his breath in the video. His birthday was coming up and we might not be there for it.

I had the video muted because I couldn't bring myself to turn it on. To hear his voice calling out for his dad... me. It broke my heart.

I was driving him to school and within seconds I was flipped over and he was gone. I made silent promises to myself that we were going to get him back. I heard steps behind me and a hand on my shoulder.

"How are you doing?", Reid sat down next to me. "Right now... not great. I miss that kid so fucking much, he was like a son to me." Reid reached his hand out.

"It'll be okay, we're going to find him." I knew he was right but I can't help the thought if we never did. How would Aaron and I move on? Would he blame me for it?

"What if we don't." He took a deep breath, trying to find the right words to comfort me.

"We can't start thinking like that, we will", he was right. The negative mindset was going to set us off course. I needed to think of Mark; what was his end game.

He wanted a child and that's why he thought I was a safe bet, he thought I'd keep it. All I could think of was that he wanted a child. Not a random child but one that had a connection to me. He wanted to feel like I was around him all the time.

Jack was young and impressionable, he picked up some habit that I did. He wasn't going to hurt Jack but raise him as his own. Even though he was young he wasn't going to forget his parents. Which makes sense considering he was in a locked room.

"Do yourself a favor, go home the rest of the team and I will keep working." I give him a sad smile and pat his back and walk to get Aaron. When I walked in Aaron was at his desk on the computer.

I didn't say anything, I went over to him and sat on his lap wrapping my arms around his neck. His hands traveled to my waist and back holding me close. "Spencer said we should go home", he hummed in agreement.

I pulled back and looked at him in his eyes, "He's not wrong, we need sleep." I got off him and pulled him up by his hand. He closed the laptop and grabbed his stuff; walking out towards the elevator we were getting eyes from the team.

Getting pity looks, It’s what I didn't want. The unwanted attention followed us through the building as we walked through to the parking lot. Word traveled and we had people feeling bad for us everywhere.

When we sat in the car we didn't speak. Silence coated the both of us, we just needed time. The darkness from outside made the both of us feel alone.

Going into the empty house, no laughter, no cartoons in the background. I glanced at the coffee table seeing the drawing he made while he was waiting for me to take him to school.

Aaron and I looked into his bedroom seeing his toys neatly stored away like he taught him. The made bed that I showed him how to do because he never listened to Aaron. I thought back to that moment and it made me smile.

I tugged on Aaron's arm bringing him to bed. We laid down and I pulled him close to me. I was hopping any second I would hear the patter on the floor as Jack ran into the room but... nothing.

____________________________

@mac99martin @donttellanyoneireadfanfiction @appleblossoms-posts @marie1115 @wanniiieeee @oreogutz @errorcosplay67 @aberrant-annie

#aaron hotch fanfiction #aaron hotchner x reader #Aaron Hotch Hotchner #aaron hotchner #aaron #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotchner fanfic #SSA HOTCHNER #hotch #hotchner #writing #fanfic #fanfiction #Criminal Minds

22 notes · View notes

morganaspendragonss · 3 years

Text

The Broken Soul of TK Strand (2/?)

once again, not my words, i'm just the messenger 😊

warning for a fair bit of gore in this chapter, some torture, and mentions of vomiting.

ao3 | 3.4k | chapter one

Carlos’s arrival at the station was Owen’s first sign that he needed to worry about TK. He had seen this expression before, when Carlos had come to his house, asking about his son. That time, TK had been kidnapped, almost killed, and he had spent two days in the hospital with a severe concussion.

“Have you heard from TK?”

This question was the second sign which set alarm bells ringing in the captain’s head.

Although he could just be acting a little bit paranoid; TK had left early to find an anniversary gift for Carlos, so that he would forgive him for having forgotten the day. There were many reasons why he might have been delayed, there was no reason to always think the worst. But, with the years, it was always easier for Owen to think about all the bad things that could have happened to his son.

“I’m sure I’m worrying about nothing,” Carlos continued whilst everyone was looking at him, accepting the coffee Mateo made for him. “But I’ve called him six times in the last two hours and he hasn’t answered or called me back. I’m worried that he feels bad for what happened this morning.”

“What did happen this morning?” Mateo asked, worry all over his face.

“TK didn’t remember that it was our anniversary. I think he still struggles to believe that we’re serious or that I’m not going to hurt him. I didn’t take it badly...well, I did a little. I was disappointed because I’d planned the whole day, and I didn’t hide it well. I think I scared him.”

“Oh, sweetheart, TK was mortified that he forgot your anniversary,” Tommy said, coming to sit at the table. She and Owen filled Carlos in on their conversation with TK and how they had told him that he could leave early.

“He even asked me what he could buy to impress you,” Owen added, trying to calm Carlos a little. “I’m sure that he has spent the time looking for the perfect gift to get you to forgive him.”

“So why doesn’t he answer my calls? He knows I worry.”

Carlos finished his coffee and tried to call TK again, this time with the speaker on, but he was sent to voicemail.

“I’ll send him a message saying that there’s an emergency here.” Tommy stood up to get her phone, but before she could go up the stairs to her office, Marjan’s voice grabbed everyone’s attention as she entered the kitchen.

“Guys, I just found TK’s phone on the ground outside with a bunch of missed calls from Carlos. Oh, hey, I didn’t know you were here. Is everything okay?”

Carlos clenched his jaw to keep from shouting, I knew it.

No more signs were needed to prove that something bad had happened to TK, so Owen mobilised everyone for the search operation he’d planned in his head in case anything happened to anyone.

He didn’t tell Carlos about the fear he always had when it came to TK, that when he was scared or feeling bad about something, he would end up in the first bar he found. This task he left for himself, and he headed off as fast as he could to some bars in the area to discard this possibility.

A panic attack could lead TK to drinking in order to free himself from insecurity or the fear that he wasn’t a good boyfriend to Carlos. It wouldn’t be the first time it had happened, and Owen didn’t want to find him drunk over a misunderstanding, ruining his more than twelve months of sobriety. Forgetting an anniversary wasn’t a good reason to throw it all away.

“You could go to your regular places in case anyone has seen him,” he told Carlos, then asked Tommy and Nancy to go for a look around, now that they had finished their shift.

“I’ll call Grace,” Judd offered. “She might have heard something at the call centre.”

Carlos thanked him, and Paul and Mateo decided to look around the station. If his phone had been left there, maybe they would find another hint.

“I’ll stay by the phone in case TK calls us or someone has something for us,” Marjan said, and they all set off.

The last thing Owen wanted was to return to the station without having found him. In a way, this would be good news, because it meant that TK wasn’t in a bar, but if Carlos had also heard nothing, it wouldn’t make him feel better, given how they’d called their close friends.

But nobody had seen TK all afternoon, and Tommy and Nancy had no luck either.

“Hey guys,” Grace greeted the group, hugging Carlos and Owen. “I haven’t had any call that could have anything to do with TK all shift today. I’m truly sorry, I wish I could help more.”

“Well, that could be a sign that nothing is wrong,” Mateo noted, smiling.

“Or it could mean that something is wrong, nobody found him, and TK wasn’t able to call for help,” Carlos replied, saying aloud what everyone else was thinking.

“Then where is he? Why doesn’t he call us?” Mateo said again, too innocent to realise that this was only serving to scare everyone more.

Paul sent him a murderous look.

Panic began to set in for Carlos. It wasn’t the first time someone had taken TK, and they had been so lucky then. He still dreamed about the gun sometimes, about hugging TK and sensing that he was about to pass out from the blow to his head. So it also wasn’t the first time he had feared for his boyfriend’s life, but as many times as it had happened, he couldn’t calm down any.

The next time could always be the last, after all.

TK woke up with the worst headache he’d ever had in his life. He’d suffered concussions before, and this was somehow even worse. He wanted to rip his head off, or at least stop hearing the banging that slammed against his eardrums.

He opened his eyes and looked around him, though the almost complete darkness made it impossible to see anything other than what was right next to him. He was sprawled on a mattress which someone had placed on the floor—a floor that smelt awful, like the whole room. It was a strong odour of blood and other horrible things that almost made him throw up right then and there.

He had to make a huge effort to push himself up so he was sitting on the mattress. Doing so made him touch the mattress, and he quickly regretted it; it was sticky with some substance that TK didn’t want to identify.

Lifting his hand to his head, he felt the blood smeared across part of his face, then turned his gaze down to his clothes. He was wearing the same hoodie he was when he left the station, but it was stained with blood.

His blood.

He couldn’t remember what happened. It hurt to think, but he tried anyway, going back to the last clear memory he had.

Carlos had been upset because he’d forgotten their anniversary. He’d decided to buy a gift at the end of shift, something unique and special, with which he would show Carlos how much he loved him and how stupid he’d been for forgetting.

Then nothing. He didn’t know what had happened after that, not even going to work, and much less how he had ended up in this situation.

TK tried to get to his feet, but he only managed to stumble a couple of steps until he had to hold himself up on the wall. He wouldn’t be able to get very far in his condition, so it made sense that whoever was holding him here didn’t see it necessary to tie him up; two steps and he was already about to throw up and fall to his knees.

He squeezed his eyes shut and, when he reopened them, he tried once more to concentrate on his surroundings. The room seemed like a basement; there wasn’t anything more than a tiny, dirty window, which was the only source of light. But it was so small that there was no chance he could escape through it, even if he wasn’t concussed.

Worse, though, was the smell. It was like something had died...or someone, though TK didn’t want to think about that, otherwise he wouldn’t be able to avoid the nausea, and he didn’t think there would be anyone to clean up after him.

TK groaned, hurting himself with how hard he was gritting his teeth. He fell to his knees, the pain in his head creating the sensation that someone was driving a million needles all over at the same time.

He breathed harshly, closed his eyes, then focused on moving.

Bad idea, though he realised it too late, when he was already on the ground. He looked at his arm where the stranger had cut it the day before, realising that the wound had opened and it was bleeding.

It did not look good.

But he didn’t have time to think on it anymore, as at that moment, the door opened and a dark shadow appeared. It was against the light, so TK could only see a double silhouette… He definitely had a concussion.

“Who are you? What do you want from me?”

“It matters little who I am,” said an almost guttural voice, deep and dark, which made TK’s hair stand on end. “Nor does it matter what I want from you. It is my Dark Lord who has called you.”

“Who?” TK just about managed to sit up on the mattress again, though it wasn’t any better or worse than being on the floor. He must be pretty out of it, because what this guy was saying didn’t make any sense.

The other man stepped into the room. TK estimated that he was more or less as tall as him, maybe a little taller, but he was wearing a type of cape or hood or something that made it difficult to see his face. The man laughed as he closed in on TK and squatted down in front of him.

“The Lord of Darkness doesn’t show himself to those who don’t believe in him. But don’t worry—as soon as we perform the blood ritual and the mark of hell is on your skin, my Lord will present himself before you, and then you will understand.”

“You’re crazy, man. Let me go and I won’t tell anyone who you are. I don’t even know where I am, so if you just leave me somewhere…”

“I haven’t kidnapped you.”

“Oh, no?”

The ham shook his head and, being so close, TK could see his dark, piercing eyes, making him tremble.

“No. I’m not one of those crazy psychopaths on the news. My purpose is to open the door to this world for my Dark Lord. His kingdom of darkness will be better than the shit we are living in now.”

“Okay, um, that sounds great and all, but what does it have to do with me?” TK asked. The pain in his head stopped him from thinking clearly or quickly.

The man took TK’s chin in a large, rough hand and pulled him towards him. “There’s no rush. Rest your soul, you will be able to ask all the questions you want during eternity with your new master.”

TK feared that he would kiss him and after that, he would want… He shook that thought from his head. But no, his kidnappers pushed him hard so he landed on the bed, putting emphasis on ‘rest’.

“Aren’t you at least going to give me something to eat and drink?”

“You’re right; I almost forgot.” The man moved quickly, turning and walking out the door, only to return two seconds later with a cup in his hands. He was also carrying a dish, and he placed them both in front of the bed.

TK looked at them—the strong smell had already reached him from the door, but seeing it was even worse.

It was a large heart, hopefully from an animal so at least it wouldn’t be human; the madness of this guy knew no bounds. The smell was awful, nauseating, as if it had just been taken from the animal’s body and put there.

The cup almost made him feel worse—it was wine, and TK could even smell it over the odour of blood from the heart.

“Couldn’t I have a little water? It’s not that I’m not grateful for the wine, but I don’t drink.”

“It’s time to leave your normal life behind. Your soul needs to be perfect to accept my Lord.”

The guy got up, clearly having said what he needed to say. He did a kind of bow, or something like one, and prepared to leave.

“Hey, no. You don’t mean to make me eat this?” TK called, but the man didn’t turn and kept walking towards the door. “Don’t leave me here, just tell me what you want from me.”

TK tried to launch himself at the man; maybe he could knock him down, run to the door, and escape. But he only took two steps before his legs failed him; he fell to the floor, hit his arm, and lay there prone, dizzy, fighting against the rising nausea, and watching as the man left and closed the door.

“Thank you, really. Thanks for being so quick.”

Carlos left his phone on the table and covered his face with both hands; he felt about to cry, but there was so much to do, and not enough hours had passed since TK’s disappearance for him to lose hope.

“It’s TK’s, right?” Owen asked, sitting in front of him, two mugs of tea in hand. “The blood on the floor is TK’s.”

Carlos nodded. “It matches his.”

Carlos’s phone pinged with another message, and he looked over at it. It was a link to a police video database; Carlos was grateful that he had friends in all departments, as everyone started working at full speed when he told them that someone had kidnapped TK.

He asked Owen for a computer and opened the video he’d been sent.

“It’s the security feed from outside the station, right where we found the blood. In theory, this is the moment TK was taken, so maybe we’ll be able to see something.”

The two of them watched the video in silence. It began with TK leaving, just as Owen and Tommy had told Carlos. The officer felt his heart stop, thinking that this might be the last time that he saw his boyfriend.

An instant later, a hooded figure appeared at TK’s back.

“It matches the description he gave me of the guy he said attacked him by the dumpsters,” Carlos said, not looking away from the screen. “I don’t know why I didn’t take him seriously when he told me.”

The man hit TK on the head and he fell to the ground, Owen and Carlos holding their breath. TK turned, looking up from the ground, and they saw him say something. They couldn’t see the face of his attacker, only that he hit TK again, leaving him unconscious...or so they hoped.

A moment later, TK’s inert body was loaded into a car parked not far from there. Carlos zoomed in but, as expected, there was no license plate.

“So now we know that TK was kidnapped.”

“Those blows could have killed him,” Carlos whispered.

“You know as well as I do—TK has a hard head. We’re going to find him.”

TK didn’t know how much time had passed by the time the man returned. He had thrown up twice due to the smell and, though he had tried to throw the wine away, a part of him told him that he needed the liquid. This was better than nothing, despite the danger that alcohol posed for him.

He left it to one side and pushed the plate with the heart away—he had no intention of touching it.

The cell door opened again. It was the same man, or so TK thought, given the few things he could see. The guy looked at the plate and cut and clicked his tongue, clearly annoyed that TK hadn’t followed his orders.

But he didn’t say anything; instead, he took a knife from underneath his cape and TK forced himself to his knees as quickly as he could—which wasn’t very quick—backing up against the wall.

“Listen, I don’t know what you have in mind but…” His captor closed the gap separating them and grabbed TK’s arm; they struggled until he was able to free himself. “Don’t hurt me, please. I’ll meet your Lord, I’ll do whatever you want.”

“Of course you will, starting right now.”

He stuck the knife into TK’s sweater and made a long enough cut so that he could rip it with his hands until TK’s shoulder blade was exposed. TK writhed but he was weak from thirst and the concussion, which was getting worse with every minute nothing was done about it.

“Please… No…”

“You have to do things right, just as my Lord likes, or else he won’t allow you to open the door.”

“What do you want me to do? I’ll do it, I promise, just don’t hurt me.”

The lord of darkness says that I have to teach those who don’t believe and make them obey rules so that, one day, they will follow them of their own will.”

TK tried to move away but the cold edge of the knife against his throat made him freeze. His captor was also straddling him, so TK couldn’t go anywhere or do anything.

“Drink the wine and eat the heart.”

“No… Please…”

TK stifled a moan as the knife dug into his throat, making a small cut. The man didn’t say anything, and he wasn’t going to give him any more options or opportunities. So there was nothing left to do—TK reached out and took the cup in a trembling hand, lifting it to his lips.

He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had wine, but the feeling of throwing his whole future away as he felt the alcohol running down his throat made him cry. Suddenly, the worst of torture didn’t seem so bad as what he was being forced to do know.

The man told him to drink it all, and TK did it.

“Now eat the heart.”

“If I do, I’ll throw up, and I don’t think your master would like that.”

“If you vomit, I will bring you another, until you have it inside you with the wine.”

The man pushed the plate closer. TK looked at it, terrible nausea rising up again, which only got worse when he took the organ in his hands and raised it to his mouth. The only way he could do it was by closing his eyes; thinking that he would never be able to eat anything again, he sank his teeth into the viscous, bloody, raw flesh. Blood ran down his throat and his face, staining his clothes, already ruined by his own blood.

Soon he felt pain in his shoulder. The man had stabbed him with the knife and he began to move it, drawing something on TK’s skin, paying no attention to his cries and protests. He had him well restrained and he wasn’t going to move until he was done, ordering TK to continue eating while he drew on his body.

When he climbed from on top of him, TK threw the heart to the other side of the room. He was barely able to hold onto consciousness for a few seconds, time in which he saw the man cleaning the knife on his clothes.

“Tomorrow we will finish the ritual, and with the full moon you will be the first to see the arrival of the lord in darkness in this world. You should feel proud.”

Then he left TK there alone, bleeding, in pain, terrified, fighting against nausea, trembling, and exhausted. He crawled over to the wall and hugged his legs, but he had no time to cry though he wanted to, as in a few seconds, he fell into unconsciousness.

#911 lone star #911 lone star fic #tarlos #tarlos fic #tk strand #carlos reyes #owen strand #911ls #lone star #fanfiction #my fanfiction #writing #my writing

8 notes · View notes

lifblogs · 3 years

Text

Whumpay 2021: Day 6 - "Can you hear me?"

Can You Hear Me?

read on ao3 2210 words star wars, the clone wars, anakin skywalker whump, obi-wan kenobi whump, graphic depictions of violence, gore, explosions, surgeries, medical care, burns, concussions, lung injury, ear injury, temporarily deaf

Jedi General Anakin Skywalker’s day was going quite well until the bomb went off. At first, he hadn’t known what had happened. It’d been like an invisible hand had thrown him, quickly followed by a wave of heat, and he was tumbling through the air.

The landing didn’t hurt nearly as much as the other injuries he’d already sustained. The rock scraped him up, and heat licked at his skin, burning the right side of his body. But it was nothing compared to the way his head pounded, and his ears ached inside. Blood dribbled down from them, reaching his jaw and neck. He had a vague notion of wanting to rip them off. Maybe that would stop the pain.

It felt like someone had inflated his chest, his throat, and he could barely breathe.

And his head, oh kriffing hell, his head!

Anakin was awash with aching agony, swollen in it, and layered above it was the burning. He knew he needed help, but was anyone near him? Had anyone been near him when the bomb had gone off? And were his men okay?

His ears were ringing relentlessly. For some reason he tried to get up, but that resulted in him collapsing.

Suddenly, he was surrounded by his men, but with blurred vision, and his head spinning, he could barely make them out. Just saw the white and blue of their armor.

Anakin drifted into black.

~~~

Obi-Wan paced back and forth outside of the medical bay on the Resolute. He knew he should probably be back onboard the Negotiator since he had to report to the Council, and had a debrief to run.

But he couldn’t just leave Anakin!

Kix had started work on Anakin right away while still on-planet. It had been gruesome, horrid work, and despite all the horrors of war that Obi-Wan had been forced to see over the past couple of years, he’d been sick. Cody had run to check on him then, and had helped hold him up.

Obi-Wan had fought his commander, wanting to be by Anakin’s side, wanting to hold his flesh hand that had been positioned above his head.

But Cody held him fast. “Don’t look, sir. Please, it’s better if you don’t.”

Perhaps he was right. What Obi-Wan had seen had been enough. A long, tube-like needle had been inserted into Anakin’s arm and he’d seen it move under his skin, making its way up and up… And then Kix had had some men cut off his clothing, leaving him bare from the waist up. Obi-Wan had been able to see burns, and what might’ve been swelling all through Anakin’s chest.

But he had turned his head even as Cody held him fast, seeing as Kix sliced between two of Anakin’s ribs, and had been handed a tube.

Oh hell.

He was forced to fly back to the battleships in a different gunship than Anakin. He would’ve gotten in the way. All the while, he could feel his former Padawan through the Force, feel his suffering even in his unconscious state.

All this was in Obi-Wan’s mind as he continued to pace.

What were they doing in there? More surgeries? Applying bacta? Obi-Wan had to admit that despite his medical field training and the technology available to him, he didn’t know much about what they were doing to Anakin to help him. He didn’t even know what was wrong with him. He’d just seen the injuries, but he knew some were internal.

He was worried about his ears as well, had seen all the blood that had come from them.

His comms blinked on his arm, and after a deep, exhausted sigh, he answered it. “Master Kenobi here.”

“Master,” Mace Windu addressed him through the comms, “the Council has been awaiting your report. You’re late.”

“My apologies, Master. Anakin was injured.”

“Will he be alright?”

Obi-Wan was surprised by Master Windu asking that seeing as he’d never really liked Anakin, but he supposed, to lose a Jedi, one of their members, it would be a great loss.

“We can only hope. I’ll report from the Resolute. Tell the Council I’ll be just a few minutes.”

“Of course.”

The line went quiet, and after glancing back at the doors to the medical bay once more, stomach churning, Obi-Wan made for the central communications room near the observation deck.

~~~

It wasn’t till after giving his report that Obi-Wan realized how filthy he was, so he found a fresher to shower in. He didn’t have fresh robes to change into afterwards, but he would have to make do.

When he left the compartment, Ahsoka was running towards him.

“Master, Kix and the medical droids say we can go see Skyguy.”

The two of them took off down the passageway together, not bothering to pretend to be the poised Jedi they were supposed to be.

~~~

They stayed by Anakin’s bedside. The right side of him was patched up in bacta soaked bandages. His left arm was still above his head as it had been earlier when Kix had… No, Obi-Wan couldn’t even think of it.

But he did, remembering the tube being placed in Anakin’s side. He swallowed roughly, feeling weak and shaky all of a sudden.

There were some kind of small wads of bandages in Anakin’s ears, and other parts of him were patched up. His neck was supported by a brace, and he was breathing through an oxygen mask. An intravenous tube and syringe was held in place in his left arm with an adhesive. Obi-Wan glanced at the bag of liquid hanging above his bunk, wondering what kind of medicines were mixed in with the water they were giving him.

Ahsoka tried to reach out for Anakin, but then pulled her hand back, realizing he was probably too injured to be touched. Obi-Wan wanted to hold his hand, and, realizing it was doable, he did the right thing, and took Ahsoka’s hand, putting it in Anakin’s.

There was no reaction from his former Padawan, but Ahsoka gave a slight nod of thanks all the same.

“Hey, Skyguy. Wake up soon, okay? We need you.”

Obi-Wan said nothing, not sure he felt comfortable sharing the deep truth of his attachment to Anakin in front of Ahsoka. But he stayed with him.

He’d taken a few minutes to look over the diagnostics report, and once again, he felt sick to his stomach.

Anakin had perforated eardrums, a concussion, burns, and had had pulmonary barotrauma. Obi-Wan began to suspect that Anakin would not wake this day.

So, with a heavy heart, he went back to the Negotiator, bidding Ahsoka farewell, and telling an unconscious Anakin that he would be back as soon as he could.

~~~

Obi-Wan was on the battlefield when he learned through the comms that Anakin was awake.

He tried to finish the battle in a blind rush, not quite sure how to focus. His distraction earned him a glancing blow with a blaster bolt on his left shoulder. But he was able to keep fighting, and the 212th did its job spectacularly.

The battle ended with only minimal casualties and Obi-Wan demanded he be brought to the Resolute, not at all caring for his own injury. He was probably bruised in a few places seeing as he’d gotten banged up a bit as well, but still, he didn’t care. And his shoulder would be fine. It was just a scratch.

Once aboard the Resolute, ignoring pleas from Kix to get checked out, he rushed to the medical bay, straight to Anakin.

Ahsoka was already with him, covered in sweat and dirt from her own fighting. Obi-Wan gave a wave that Anakin weakly returned. Obi-Wan was surprised by Ahsoka’ grim expression that he noticed when he drew closer. She was uneasy, the Force wavering around her. And around Anakin there was a darkness, like a wall of some sort. It was thin though, and Obi-Wan prodded at it. To his surprise that earned him a pained look from Anakin that quickly turned into a glare.

He was baffled, and had opened his mouth to say something, when Ahsoka rudely grabbed his wrist and pulled him aside.

“Ahsoka!” he admonished.

“Master, there’s something you need to know.”

Obi-Wan, forgetting about the blaster injury, tried to cross his arms. He grimaced as pain flared through him, and he settled for putting one hand on his chin.

“Yes, what is it?” he asked, not at all happy that he was being held up from speaking with Anakin.

“Kix ran some tests earlier, and… Well, Anakin can’t hear.”

Obi-Wan turned to his former Padawan and frowned. Anakin just turned one side of his mouth down, probably sensing what they were talking about.

“I thought his eardrums had been operated on.”

“They were, but it’ll take some time before they’re fully healed.”

“So he will eventually be able to hear again?”

Ahsoka nodded. “Kix thinks so.”

Obi-Wan’s mouth set into a grim line.

So Anakin would be out of commission awhile longer. But worse than that, Obi-Wan couldn’t just go over and say hello to him.

“Thank you for telling me,” he said.

Ahsoka left, and Obi-Wan went to Anakin’s side. He offered him a reassuring smile.

“Sorry I can’t hear you,” Anakin said, his voice too loud.

Obi-Wan just grasped his hand and shook his head, a sign to not worry. He sent him a comforting pulse through the Force, and it retreated into the wall around Anakin, weakening it. His current deafness was probably what was causing the wall and darkness. Obi-Wan couldn’t blame him. Still, he didn’t like it.

Obi-Wan called over a droid and had it bring him a datapad so he could communicate with Anakin.

How are you feeling? he typed.

“Besides the ears, you mean?” Anakin asked, voice still too loud.

Obi-Wan nodded.

“Everything hurts, and I’m surprised I’m not dead. Am I dead?”

No, Anakin. You’re quite alive, thank the Force. And Kix. He worked quickly. He might be the only reason you’re able to speak with me right now.

Anakin’s eyes were wide at this, and then he tried to shift, but grunted in pain.

“I’ll have to thank him.”

His eyes roved over him, and then they fixed on his injured shoulder. Obi-Wan tried to hide it with his hand, but that just had pain going up into his neck, and wrapping around to his shoulder blade. It went down to his biceps, as well. Force, maybe he should’ve gotten this taken care of already. It could scar.

“Master, you’re hurt!”

“It’s nothing,” Obi-Wan said aloud, and then realized his mistake.

Anakin looked on with confusion, and then frustration.

Obi-Wan tried to take the datapad and write to him on it, but he smeared his own blood on the screen.

“Get that taken care of,” Anakin told him.

“But—”

“No buts.”

Obi-Wan gave a small smile, realizing he’d spoken out loud once more, but Anakin knew him well enough to properly respond. Of course he knew what he was going to say.

As an answer, he nodded his head, squeezed Anakin’s hand, and then let a medical droid take him away.

~~~

Four battleships from the Separatist fleet had split off and were heading towards Geonosis. The 501st and 212th had been sent to intercept them. Word was that General Grievous was on the flagship.

R2-D2 beeped at Anakin excitedly as he flew his fighter towards oncoming vulture droids. It was just like the little astromech to get all excited about having Anakin back in the fight.

“Yeah, I missed you too, Artoo.”

Over the comms, he heard Obi-Wan’s voice. “Anakin. Come in, Anakin. Can you hear me?”

Anakin grinned. “Reading you loud and clear, Master.”

And oh, how good it was to hear Obi-Wan’s voice, to be back out in the fight. It had taken long soaks in bacta tanks and much more treatment for him to be battle ready again. Now, with only minimal pain from his burn scars, he was ready to get back into the thick of things.

“It’s good to have you back,” his former master told him, and Anakin could picture the wide smile on his face.

“Good to be back. Now let’s turn Grievous into spare parts.”

“Patience, Anakin.”

Anakin engaged a vulture droid, spinning to avoid blaster fire. Artoo gave a shrill screech.

“I’ve been patient enough,” he said. Then he tuned in the comms for some of his men. “Blue Leader, follow me on the left. Hit those vulture droids with all you got.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Don’t be reckless!” Obi-Wan admonished.

“Hey, I didn’t get my hearing back just so you could insult me.”

“No, you got it back so you could make my life a living hell.”

“And proud of it, Master.”

Explosions flared all around him as vulture droids were destroyed, and the blackness of space was lit up with green and red blaster fire. Everything was too loud in Anakin’s newly-healed ears as they got into the thick of battle, but at least he could hear again. He hoped to not have another incident with a bomb for quite some time. And right now as he fired on the enemy, his day was going splendidly.

18 notes · View notes

before-we-get-started · 3 years

Text

Dream Come True

Colin Shea x O/C Corinne MacAdam

Multi-Chapter Story - Complete

Summary: Colin Shea and his band Rock the Cradle are finally making it big - until something unexpected happens. When he meets a girl that makes him reconsider his player ways, he thinks his life may be coming together, until she blows it apart.

Warning: Bad language, smut, suicidal ideations - no one under 18, please

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please do not read if you are underage. I do not own the character of Colin Shea; the rest are my original characters. By reading beyond this point, you understand the disclaimers as posted.

Chapter Three

“Colin? Colin? You with me, man?”

He stirred, then became aware of intense pain in his back and neck. He let out a moan.

“There he is.”

He recognized Kevin’s voice. He slowly opened his eyes, his head pounding as he focused on the light. “What the hell?”

“It’s ok man, you’re gonna be ok. You scared the shit out of us.”

“Kevin!” Colin’s mom scolded him as she sat at the edge of his bed, holding his hand.

“Hi Honey, dad and I are here.”

“What happened?”

“We nailed the razzle dazzle but you got taken out,” said Kevin. “Landed on your head, which for you shouldn’t be that big of a deal, but it knocked you out. We lost you for a minute. Heart stopped and everything. Spencer got you back.”

Colin groaned. “Oh no, tell me he didn’t kiss me.”

“Look, when you’re dead, does it really matter? The guy saved your life. If mouth-to-mouth was involved, so be it.”

“Aah, gross!”

“Colin, for heaven’s sake, we’re just glad you’re still with us,” said his mom, smoothing the hair back from his forehead.

“You really did scare the shit out of us son,” said his dad, his mom slapping at dad’s hand for the profanity.

Their conversation was interrupted as a young nurse entered the room. “Mr. Shea, glad to have you back.”

Even severely concussed and in pain, Colin was on the prowl. “Are you here for my sponge bath? I can make everyone disappear,” he said with a crooked smile.

The nurse rolled her eyes. “We have a special nurse that takes care of those. I’ll have her paged. Her name is Agnes, she’s wonderful, been doing this for 50 years-“

Colin’s dad let out a belly laugh.

“That’s ok,” he said, all the cockiness gone. “I’ll just get some rest.”

“Right,” she said with a grin. She adjusted the IV bag on the stand next to his bed, wrote his vitals on the board for the next nurse and left the room.

Colin closed his eyes, then quickly opened them, springing up from the bed. He grabbed his throbbing head. “Dude, what time is it, we’re gonna be late!” He pulled the blanket away and tried to swing his legs over the side of the bed. Kevin stopped him.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, lay back down. You’re not going anywhere.” His mother pulled the blanket back up to cover him.

“We’re gonna be late! We can’t miss this!” Colin said as he tried again to sit up.

“Colin, just lay down. We’re not going to be late. It’s ok.”

Colin laid his arm over his forehead and closed his eyes. “How long do we have? We’re supposed to be there at 6.”

Kevin chuckled at his bedside while he saw sadness in his mom’s eyes.

“What’s so funny?” said Colin.

“It’s Thursday. You lost three days, dude.”

He laid still for a second, considering what Kevin had said. “Wait, what?”

“Yeah. You’ve been out for three days. You took a hard hit. That Jordan dunk was worth it though, huh?”

Colin groaned. “No, no, no!” He rubbed his forehead and groaned again. “I can’t believe this. We’ll never get this chance again.”

“The producer said he’d try to get back with us but he was headed to L.A. for the next few months. He wished us luck. Look, all that matters is that you’re ok.”

His mother patted his hand. “Colin, it’s ok, just rest. The most important thing is that you’re ok and that you heal.”

“Damn,” Colin muttered under his breath. He’d been trying to gather his thoughts since waking up, everything still foggy. He remembered walking to the basketball court. He remembered their opponents asking for a best-of-3 game. He even remembered he was wearing his favorite Celtics t-shirt. And he remembered her.

“Kevin, were there any girls at the court? Watching the game?”

“Good Lord Colin, are you ever not thinking about girls?” said his dad.

“No, no, I just keep thinking about this girl. Chestnut hair, chocolate eyes, really sexy legs. Was she there watching us?”

“Nope,” said Kevin, popping the p. “No chocolate-eyed girls. In fact, no girls at all. A total sausage fest.” This earned Kevin one more smack from Colin’s mom.

Colin closed his eyes and rubbed them, sighing. His band had missed their shot and a beautiful brunette that he wasn’t sure existed was living rent-free in his brain. It was all too much.

“Alright man, I’m out of here. Glad you’re alive. The band would suck without a lead guitarist,” said Kevin.

“Good to know how much I mean to you,” said Colin, gripping his hand in their special handshake. “Thanks Kevin.”

Kevin walked out as Colin’s mom fluffed his pillow behind his head. All he could do was close his eyes and drift off, hoping to escape all the disappointment breaking his heart.

“You’re moving great, girlfriend.”

Cori grinned at her mother’s encouragement as she stepped out onto the patio. It had been three months since she’d stepped off the curb into the path of a cab. Fortunately the driver had been slowing already, so when he hit her, the impact could’ve been worse. As it was, the impact had caused her heart to stop. An ambulance two lanes over had responded and gotten her to the hospital in minutes, and they’d shocked her and brought her back. She’d broken an ankle and a wrist and suffered a severe concussion. She’d been unconscious for nearly a week. Her recovery had been steady, her parents welcoming her into her old room and nursing her back to health.

She sat down under the umbrella at the patio table, lifting her bad leg onto the ottoman. Her mother brought lemonade for them both, sitting down next to her.

“You look wonderful honey,” her mother said, covering her hand. “I’m so thankful you’ve recovered so well.” She stared down at the table, then raised her eyes to Cori.

“I think we need to talk.”

“Sure,” said Cori, sipping the lemonade.

“About that day, I mean.”

Cori swallowed hard. She knew this conversation was coming. “I don’t remember much,” she said.

“I don’t want to talk about what happened. I want to talk about why.” She patted Cori’s hand.

“Mom –“

“Corinne,” she said sternly. “The counselor said part of your healing is assessment and accountability.”

Cori rolled her eyes and her mother gently slapped her hand.

“You and I both know you were going through a lot when this happened. You had lost so much. Dad and I should’ve paid more attention. We should’ve seen the signs.” Her voice broke and she wiped at a tear on her cheek.

“Mom,” said Cori, leaning forward to comfort her. “Please. Look, I’ll admit I wasn’t exactly a ray of sunshine before the accident. I was struggling with all of it. But Mom, I wouldn’t ever try to – you know –“

Her mom slid her chair closer and wrapped her arms around her. “Of course not, honey. We both know that despite everything, you have so much to live for.”

“I do,” she said, but the confidence was gone from her voice.

“Corinne. You have always been my happy child. You sang loudest in the choir, you were the cheerleader with the biggest smile, your pirouettes were full of energy – those other girls in dance couldn’t begin to turn the way you did. How many times have I walked in on you singing at the top of your lungs into your hair brush or heard you laughing like crazy at ‘Friends.’”

“Mom –“

“I’m just saying,” she continued, “you don’t need a guy to be your happiness. Sure, it’s wonderful to have companionship. But you are intelligent and fun and caring, sweet and loving. There is someone out there for you, and I’m sorry Matthew made you take a detour. But before you find the right one, you have to be sure you know who you are.”

Her mom was definitely starting to sound like the counselor. “Ma, you’re exactly right. I made the mistake of trusting two people with my happiness and they let me down. And despite everything, even though I’ve had these challenges, I know I have my whole life ahead of me and I’m ready to start this adventure again.”

Her mom looked at her, not completely buying what Cori was selling.

“Mom! I mean it! Look, what happened to me scared the absolute crap out of me. I know I’m lucky to have survived. But I did for a reason – there are obviously things I haven’t done yet.” Isn’t that what he told me before he kissed me?

Finally her mother smiled. “That’s the Cori I know and love,” she said softly. “You took several years off your dad’s and my lives kiddo. All we want is for you to be happy. We want you to have everything you want.” She squeezed Cori’s hand. “Promise me you’ll concentrate on being happy and having fun and not worry about what you think society expects from you.”

She let loose with another eye roll.

“Cori, seriously. You’ll find someone and marry when the time is right. I promise you you’ll know when you’ve found the right one.”

She couldn’t help but laugh. “Uh, spoken by the one who married her high school sweetheart,” she said with a smirk.

“Hey, I can’t help it if Mr. Right took me to my senior prom. But I sure knew he was the one,” she said with a wink.

“Did someone call my name?” Her dad walked out onto the patio, passing Cori a bottle of beer.

“Oh brother,” she said as her dad leaned down to kiss her mom’s cheek. She loved that they were still so much in love. Could there really be that type of romance out there for her somewhere?

“We were just discussing Cori’s fresh start,” said her mom, “and all she has to look forward to.”

“You’ve always been full of joy, Princess,” said her dad. “Your future’s so bright…”

“Don’t!” Cori groaned.

“You’re gonna need shades,” her mom and dad said in unison, laughing loudly at themselves.

“What’s so funny?” her sister asked, carrying out some snacks.

“NOT mom and dad,” said Cori, and they laughed even louder.

They munched and chatted and Cori felt a calm she hadn’t in some time. She was blessed with a loving family and all the support in the world. Even as she worked through the noises crowding her brain, she had the people she needed around her.

Listening to them talking, Cori closed her eyes. At some point she’d love to talk about what happened after the accident, but her memory was still so sketchy. She remembered taking the elevator down from her office, pressing herself up against the glass on the crowded sidewalk, even stopping on the corner and pushing the button to get the crossing light. But that’s where it ended. Her next memory was in the hospital, her mother stroking her hand and her father standing next to her bed.

She let out a sigh. She’d dodged a bullet, that was for sure. She was so lucky to be alive. She swore she could remember the feeling of being brought back to life, the power surging through her.

And then, as she remembered the feeling of electricity, the flash of a face – beautiful blue eyes, spiky blonde hair, firm biceps and pecs and a Celtics t-shirt. As quickly as the memory was there, it was gone. She guessed it must be someone she’d seen at the hospital, or maybe on the street before she was hit.

“What are you grinning about?” her mother said, interrupting the thought.

She smirked. “Wouldn’t you like to know!”

She helped her mother clear their dishes and then packed up leftovers for her sister. After hugging her goodbye, she said good night to her parents and showered, covering her casts with a bag, then crawled into bed with a book. She finished only a few pages before sleep claimed her, the book sliding down the covers.

In her dreams, she could see the turquoise water so clearly. She was naturally drawn to it. The water was so blue and still, the sky golden. She’d almost made it but then he was there. Suddenly there were blue eyes and his lips were pressed to hers in a passionate kiss, a jolt of electricity stunning her body.

She jumped from under the covers, bracing herself with her good arm. She fully expected to see still water when she looked over the side of the bed, but it was just her bedroom.

Who was he? And why was he there? There was no mistaking that the kiss was delicious. She closed her eyes and hummed as she remembered it again. But where was she when she was kissing him? She hadn’t seen anyone since Matthew. There had been no one.

Those features were suddenly clear to her, the angled nose and chiseled jawline, with a few freckles across his high cheekbones. The thought of him took her breath away. She could remember the details but she couldn’t conjure the entire face. There was a silver chain, and a tattoo – were they words? – and Celtic green. As quickly as the memory was there, it was gone. The doctors had told her she may have snippets of memories from her entire life until the effects of the concussion healed. Wasn’t it her luck that she’d been kissed by a guy that was a figment of her imagination. It was a kiss for the ages, one she wouldn’t forget any time soon. She hoped thinking of it would give her courage as she stepped back into the world.

* * * *

“Here honey,” said Colin’s mom, adjusting the pillows behind his head on the couch. “Are you hungry? Can I get you anything?”

“Ma, thanks but I’m fine, I swear.”

“I’ll be the judge of that,” she said, straightening up things in the kitchen.

Colin was in a funk. Despite his doting mother and all her TLC, he was still down hard. For the last three months, he’d struggled to come to terms with what he’d lost. His dream of his band making it big was gone. It had taken weeks for his body to heal. He was moving better but there was still some pain. The horrible headache that was part of his severe concussion had finally lifted, but he was still in a fog.

The guys were getting restless, they wanted to start playing again. They’d been able to book some parties and a gig at one of their regular bars. He had two more weeks to get it together, make sure his guitar skills had returned to normal, and they’d start their quest again.

Only he just wasn’t feeling it. No matter how hard he tried, there was a gray cloud over his head. And then there was that girl. His memory was hazy, he tried so hard to remember her. Beautiful hair and eyes, with a sweet, heart-shaped mouth. And yet all he could remember was how sad she looked. She haunted his dreams every night and the memory would disappear. He didn’t know who she was or where she came from, or if she was even real. He only knew she was going to end it all if he hadn’t stopped her. How could someone so beautiful feel so sad that they didn’t want to exist anymore?

“Honey, you’re so deep in thought. Don’t you want to rest?”

“Ma, I really, really appreciate you taking care of me but I’m fine. Really.”

She sat down on the chair across from him and took a good look at him. “You look better,” she said. “And your appetite is back. All good signs.”

“So how about you go home and take care of dad for a while? I know he’s been missing you.”

She chuckled. “I’m not sure that’s true,” she said with a smile.

“Ok, well I know he’s missed your cooking,” he said.

“That is true,” she said, “and from the looks of his belly, he could afford to miss it for a

while.”

Colin laughed and his mother smiled at him. “That’s music to my ears,” she said. She walked over and sat on the edge of the couch, running her fingers over his hair. “You know, maybe you could think about bringing a nice girl home to us,” she said. “I could teach her how to cook all your favorites.”

“Ma-“

“I know, I know, you like to play the field. But really Colin, how about just finding a nice girl you can settle down with. And then you can start giving me grandbabies,” she said with a brilliant smile.’

“Come on Ma,” he said as she pinched his cheeks.

“I’ll make you a deal,” she said.

“Shoot,” said Colin.

“I’ll go home and leave you be, but you have to promise you won’t overdo it. And you’ll eat what I left you and not order any crap until you’re better.”

He laughed again and sat up, wrapping her up in a hug. “You’re the best Ma ever, you know that, right?”

“Well, that’s because you’re my baby boy.”

He blushed as she ruffled his hair. “Ok, I’m out of here. I love you,” she said, kissing his cheek. “And I’m glad you’re still around to eat my lasagna.”

“Me too,” he said.

She made her way out of his apartment and he stared up at the ceiling. He had to return to the living. He forced himself off the couch and fought the urge to return to bed, grabbing his guitar. It had always been his solace. When he felt his lowest, he’d simply pound out a song and his mood would instantly improve. He strummed slowly, but his heart wasn’t in it. He set it down and laid back on the couch, curling up under a blanket and covering his head with a pillow. As he closed his eyes, he hoped she’d once again be there, so clear and yet not even a true memory.

Tomorrow was a new day. He’d try joining the living again tomorrow.

#chris evans #chris evans fanfic #chris evans angst #chris evans fan fiction #what's your number #colin shea #colin shea fanfic #colin shea fanfiction #colin shea x ofc #colin shea x original fictional character

15 notes · View notes

somethinginthewayiam · 4 years

Text

Request - Dark alley

a/n: I’m sorry @scorpionchild81 that it took so long for me to answer your request, I didn’t forget about you. I’m not used to writing angsty stories so this was a real challenge for me. But thank you for trusting me with your idea and giving me a chance to improve as a writer. I hope you like how it turned out!

Pairing: Henry x plus-size reader

Warnings: physical assault, language, brutality, fluff at the end

Words: 2735

Summary: It’s pretty much all in the request...

Ever since you and Henry made your relationship official, you’ve been receiving quite the amount of hate, mostly over Instagram. You figured that it would probably be problematic since you weren’t the skinniest girl and you’re not what you call a “model-type”, someone Henry would clearly deserve, but he chose you. You thought you had braced yourself enough before going public, but sadly that wasn’t the case.

Henry reassured you every day that you weren’t only enough for him, but everything he could have ever dreamed of and it always calmed you down. You had always restrained yourself from answering any DMs you got or commenting under hate posts until they got really personal and you just had to clap back.

You might have gone a little overboard as you were a bit drunk when it happened. Also, Henry was away filming and not there to distract you as usual. You didn’t think about it any further that night and went to sleep.

A few days later, you were walking home from work, it was already late. You always put in the extra hours when Henry was away. You didn’t like spending too much time home alone and you had at least another two weeks of that.

You took a short cut, a little dark alley you always took, you didn’t even think too much about it until you heard steps behind you. You threw a little look over your shoulder and saw about three women a few feet behind you. As they were just women, you didn’t think about it too much and kept on walking.

After another few steps, you felt them coming closer quite quickly. You threw another look over your shoulder and this time, the one in the middle, a tall brown-haired woman, made eye contact with you. “Can I help you?”, you asked, stopping in your steps and turning around.

“Yeah, why don’t you apologize for being such a piece of shit?”, she came straight at you. “Excuse me?!”, you asked her with big eyes. The women to her left and right crossed their arms in front of their bodies and stared at you.

“I read your comment on my post, bitch. Does Henry know how you talk to his fans? You should be happy he even looks at you. I don’t know he manages to get hard around your big ass body, so gross. Does he fuck you with his eyes closed thinking of his exes?”, she threw at you. At that moment you realized that she was the one that had posted the hate you replied to a couple of days ago.

“Shut the fuck up, you don’t know what you’re talking about”, you opposed. “Don’t tell me to shut up, bitch. Our man has suffered enough being with a stupid ass bitch like you and we have enough. It’s time for you to get your fat ass out of here and leave him alone”, she said as she came at you.

She raised her hand in an attempt to bitch-slap you across the face but you blocked her arm with yours. But while you were concentrated on the one in front of you, you didn’t see her friend coming at you from the side. Before you could even turn around, you felt a sharp pain in your knee as she kicked it. Your knees gave in and you dropped to the floor.

Next, you felt some hands pushing you to the ground and you landed on your side, your head hitting the street. Your hands came up to cover your face.

You felt a kick in your ribs and the sharp pain caused you to feel nauseous. Something heavy hit your head. It felt like someone’s handbag. Something rough on the bags outside scratched over your forehead and you felt a stinging pain.

“Stop! Please stop!”, you tried to scream but your voice was so weak. You pulled your legs close to your body, just waiting for it to be over. Your whole body was hurting but you also felt kind of numb. It was so surreal, you never thought something like this would ever happen to you.

“Hey, get off her! Stop it! I called the police!”, you heard someone shout. Your right ear was ringing after they threw the bag on your head again. And suddenly it stopped. You heard screams and quick steps on the street as the three women were running away. You didn’t dare to get your hands off your face.

You heard shuffling steps coming towards you and braced yourself for another attack, thinking they had come back. When you felt a hand on your upper arm, you flinched, turning away, bracing yourself for another attack.

“They’re gone, you’re safe”, you heard another woman’s voice. “Shh, it’s all going to be alright now”, she said and tried to get you to look at her.

You slowly put your hands down, blinking at the street lights behind her. You were looking at a slightly older woman, maybe in her late fifties. “Oh my god, dear. We need to get you to a hospital. Come on”, she said and helped you up.

Your whole body was shaking, your legs were weak. On the side where your knee got kicked, you limped. With the help of the woman, she got you out of the little alley and onto the main road. She called a taxi and drove with you to the emergency room.

She explained to the nurse what happened and stayed with you during the whole exam. She also didn’t leave your side when they called the police for you to give a statement. The woman that had practically saved you gave her statement as well.

When the officers asked you if you wanted to press charges, you negated out of fear this would happen again, that they would find you again. But your savior encouraged you to do it anyway, advising you to not give them the power over you. So, you did press charges against anonymous. The woman helped you with the descriptions of the women’s looks and appearances.

When you left the hospital with your guardian angel, you had three bruised ribs and a bruised knee on your right side and a little cut on your forehead. Thankfully, you didn’t need stitches, but you had several stripes holding the wound together. You also had a mild concussion from several hits to your head.

“Is someone waiting for you at home, dear?”, she asked you, looking concerned, when you were waiting for your taxi in front of the hospital. “Yes, I’ll be fine”, you lied to her, not knowing you actually wasn’t lying.

What you didn’t know at this point was that Henry had come home earlier. He didn’t call or text you to surprise you. He went grocery shopping and made you dinner. When you didn’t show up at your usual time, he just figured you were working overtime as you used to do when he was away shooting a movie or his new tv show The Witcher.

When it got pretty late, he was checking his phone for any messages. He called your phone but it went straight to voicemail. Maybe you were out with some of your girlfriends. He packed up the dinner in boxes and put it in the fridge. But he wanted to wait up for you.

When you came home, some painkillers in your bag, you were limping to your door. You didn’t notice the light was on in your house.

Just when you closed the door behind you, you heard quick taps of paws on your wooden floors before Kal came sprinting towards you. “Hey! What are you doing here?”, you said surprised, really happy to see him.

The big dog was so excited to see you, he ran around you and jumped up to lick your face. You spun around to follow him and got down on your knees to pat him, hissing at the pain in your right knee. You shifted your weight on your left leg as you ran your hand through his fur, facing the front door.

Henry came out of the living room and leaned against the doorframe, watching the two of you with a smile. He was happy to see you again even if it was just your back for now.

You were so happy to see your favorite bear again, especially in this hour of need. You were so happy that you didn’t think for a moment that wherever Kal was, Henry was too.

“Hey, my love. I thought you’d never come home tonight”, he said and you froze in your movements. Kal wanted you to keep petting him and nudged your hand with his nose, pushing his head forward in excitement and pressing into your right side like he normally did. You hissed as the sharp pain shot through your whole body, your hand holding your side.

“I wanted to surprise you, so I didn’t call…”, he continued until he heard you hissing. “Are you alright, Y/N?”, he asked and pushed himself off the doorframe.

Fuck, you needed to face him now. You thought you had at least two weeks to heal your wounds and then just say you hit your head on an open cabinet door or something.

You rose to your feet and slowly turned around. As soon as Henry laid eyes on the bandage on your forehead his eyes got big and he came over to you with two big steps.

“Y/N, what the hell happened to you? Oh my god!”, he cupped your face, gently turning your head to get a better look at your forehead. “It’s nothing, really”, you tried to play it down. “This doesn’t look like nothing”, he said and his voice rose. You could clearly see how terrified he was, but you weren’t able to look him in the eyes. You already had a lump in your throat, you feared that if you looked at him directly, you would lose it completely.

He grabbed the hem of your shirt, wanting to lift it up where you flinched when Kal touched you. You put a hand on his and pushed it down. “Please, don’t”, you said. When you looked at his face and saw the mortified expression on his face, your eyes filled with tears. You felt the teardrops running down your cheeks, wetting your skin.

“Baby, what happened?”, he whispered, tears shimmering in his eyes. You bit down on your bottom lip as you felt a sob creeping up your throat. “Please, you need to tell me what happened, I’m going crazy”, he said. More tears fell from your eyes.

“Were you attacked?”, he asked and you slowly nodded your head, not trusting your voice. “Did someone try to…”, he asked but had to pause. He closed his eyes for a second, his jaw tense. “R-ra…”, he started, but you quickly shook your head. “No, no, I wasn’t raped”, you quickly said with a shaky voice. Henry exhaled loudly, slightly relieved that you weren’t abused in that way.

You cupped his face and pulled him down for a light kiss on the lips, trying to reassure him. Then you let go and limped past him towards the living room. “Y/N, you’re limping!”, he called out as he watched you move.

You went straight to your liquor cabinet and grabbed the whiskey bottle. You filled some of the liquid into a glass and swallowed it all in one sip. Okay, maybe not the best idea with the painkillers you took, but you need this right now.

When you turned around, Henry stood in the middle of the living room, watching you. You took a deep breath which hurt your ribs and winced. Henry wanted to come over to you but you stopped him with your hand held up.

You slowly grabbed the hem of your shirt and pulled it up on your right side, revealing a big, dark bruise that had formed over the course of the night. You heard Henry gasp and looked up. His eyes were filled with tears again, a hand covering his mouth.

“Let’s sit down”, you said, reached out, grabbed his hand and walked with him to the couch.

You told him everything that had happened tonight, including the nice lady that had helped you and you told him that you already pressed charges against your attackers. Henry got angrier with every word as you spoke. Over the course of your story, he needed a drink himself. Kal had lain down by your feet, feeling the tension in the room.

“I’m so sorry that happened to you”, he said and ran his hand through his hair. He then took your hand in his, bringing it up to his lips and giving your knuckles a gentle kiss, letting his lips linger on your skin as he tried to collect himself.

“It’s my own fault, I shouldn’t have made those comments on Instagram, I…”, “No! Don’t excuse their behavior. Nothing what you said or could have said gave them the right to physically assault you”, interrupted you, his voice loud and strong.

“Baby, please calm down”, you said and squeezed his hand. “No, I can’t calm down”, he said and pulled his hand from yours. He reached for his phone on the coffee table. His thumbs flew across the screen. “Baby, what are you doing?”, you asked him, leaning over to glimpse at his phone, but your bruised ribs made you stop.

“I’m posting on Instagram what happened to you, making clear that no real fans of me would ever even talk ill about or to you, let alone assault you”, he said while his thumbs kept flying over this screen, hastily writing something.

You grabbed his phone from his hands, taking it away from him. “Henry, no!”, you said and put his phone behind you. “Give me my phone back, Y/N”, he said and held his hand out. “No”, you shook your head.

“Henry, baby, please, listen to me”, you said and grabbed his hand. You brought it up to your face and kissed the back of his hand before holding it between your hands close to your heart. “You’re outraged right now, you should NOT post on social media”, you said slowly, over-pronouncing every word.

“Please, Henry. I had a long night, I’m very tired and in a lot of pain. I just want to go to bed and I want you next to me”, you said with a low voice, almost whispering. Henry’s features got softer as he listened to you. He took a deep breath and then slowly nodded.

“You’re right, Y/N. You’re absolutely right, I’m sorry. Let’s go to bed”, he said and got up from the couch. He helped you up as well and walked you over to the stairs. He picked up your purse from the floor at the front door and brought it with him as he guided you upstairs.

He helped you change out of your clothes and into your pajamas. When he saw your bruises again, you could see his jaw tensing up. You caressed his cheek and gave him a gentle kiss to calm him down.

He brought you a glass of water so you could take your pain meds before he changed out of his clothes and into his pajama pants.

You had to sleep on your left side. Henry cuddled up to your backside, putting his arm over your hips, careful not to touch any part of you that was hurt.

You had actually been afraid to go to sleep tonight on your taxi ride home from the emergency room. You were so happy that Henry was home, you felt much safer with him right next to you. You felt a tear escaping your closed eyes and running down your cheek.

“I’m so happy you are home”, you mumbled into the dark bedroom, not sure if Henry was still awake, your hand on his arm that was draped over you. He entangled his fingers with yours, squeezing them reassuringly and pressed a kiss to your neck. “I’m right here”, he whispered. “I love you”, you said and sobbed lightly. “I love you too, Y/N”, he said and his thumb caressed the back of your hand as he pressed another kiss to your neck.

#henry cavill #henry cavill request #henry cavill angst #henry cavill fluff #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill x plus-size reader #angst #fluff #request

358 notes · View notes

skullrock · 4 years

Text

the campers, chapter one - Steve x Reader

chapter one: the enemies

series summary:Steve gets a job as a camp counselor at Camp Know Where, intending on using the summer to discover himself. When things start to go wrong at camp, the only people that can help him are the Party, Hopper, and his mortal enemy - you. [Enemies to lovers, angst, fluff, hurt/comfort]

chapter summary: You and Steve unfortunately reunite for the first time in five years.

warnings: swearing!

word count: 1.6k

a/n: alright fellas, I am back with another longfic! this one is a summer camp au. this chap is mainly exposition but it’ll flesh out in the next chapter. hope you are ready to go on this ride w me!

===

Steve isn’t quite sure what he signed up for.

“Steve, you have to,” Dustin pleaded with him a month ago. “There aren’t enough counselors, and if there aren’t enough counselors, then there’s no camp.”

Steve rolled his eyes, bit his heart was sympathetic. “Why is that my problem?”

Dustin sighed, frustrated. “Because we’re best friends, and you’re supposed to help your friends when they need it.”

Steve rolled his eyes again as he contemplated the scenario. Steve had gone to camp when he was younger, but it was nothing like Camp Know Where. Steve’s parents had sent him off to a summer camp that some other Hawkins parents sent their kids to. Tommy H. had always gone, as well as some other boys Steve grew up with. He enjoyed his time there – it was always pleasant and fun. Just a boy doing boy things with his shitty friends. But Camp Know Where had a purpose. Steve didn’t know the first thing about science. Dustin said that could be used to his advantage - Steve wasn’t so sure.

“What’s in it for me?” Steve asked, unpeeling an orange as he leaned against the kitchen counter in his apartment.

“The camp is right on a lake,” Dustin began. “It’s a great spot for swimming and kayaking. You don’t know shit about science, so this is an opportunity to learn. And some of the camp counselors are babes.”

Steve snorted. “What are they, forty-five?”

“Uh, no? They’re your age?”

Steve’s brows shot up at the mention. “You’re saying there are babes I have a chance with there?”

“They’re apparently not your type, ya know, since you hate nerds.” Dustin shrugged his shoulders, but Steve was still very, very interested.

“Desperate times call for desperate measures.”

“And, anyway, you can lead the sports and adventures and hikes and stuff, if you don’t like science. And it’s a nice way to get away from Hawkins for a few months.”

Steve nodded thoughtfully. “Is it paid?”

“You get a stipend of two hundred a month.”

Steve nearly choked on his orange. “Two hundred dollars a month?!”

“And your food is paid for. So is your laundry and housing. It’s free.” Dustin grinned smugly at Steve, and Steve held his hand out.

“You got a deal,” he said. “I’ll do it.”

Steve went through a phone interview and Dustin wrote him a glowing recommendation. And here he is, a month later, driving towards Michigan with Dustin in the passenger seat and multiple suitcases in the back. Steve was required to come two weeks early to learn the ropes, while Dustin was allowed to come early because he was a designated Camp Leader, along with Suzie and some others.

“They call us the ‘Know Everythings’,” Dustin beams.

“Sounds like they’re trying to call you smartasses,” Steve responds, staring absentmindedly out the windshield. Dustin’s smile drops and Steve’s widens. “Don’t worry, Dusty-bun, your girlfriend likes it.”

Dustin slams himself back against the seat, looking out the window. “Should’ve never invited you.”

“Too late.”

Steve was excited beyond the nerves. He had needed some type of self-intervention and introspection after the last three years. He needed a way to mend the emotional scars that the Upside Down and Nancy had left. Dustin had said there were a lot of authors and poets who wrote about the healing power of nature. Steve’s not sure it’s legit, but it’s more hope than he’s had in a while. Robin had also insisted it would be good for Steve to get away from town and try to find himself. So Steve is going into it with an open mind, trying to fight his negative side with suffocating positivity.

You, on the other hand, knew exactly what you’d signed up for.

You had gone to camp when you were younger, too. Except you hated that camp with a passion. Each summer, you’d cry to your parents as June rolled around. You didn’t want to go back to that stupid, hot, ridiculous camp, where a certain group of boys made your life hell. But your parents insisted it was good for you, and they sent you until you were too old to go. In a way, they were right; the camp had taught you to stand up for yourself. It gave you the confidence and self-love a lot of people didn’t have. But you certainly wished you’d found all of that in a healthier way - not because boys would steal your clothes when you were swimming at night, leaving you to walk to your cabin naked.

So, you signed up to help out at Camp Know Where two years ago because you loved science and the outdoors, and you wanted to facilitate a healthy self-love journey for the campers. You wanted to help teach them how to be themselves, to love themselves, to stick up for themselves. And, truth be told, nerds need that kind of reassurance. You’re a nerd – you’d know.

You came to camp two weeks early to help train the new counselors. You didn’t get the list of names, but if you had, you would have run away as soon as your eyes landed on Steve Harrington.

It was, by all accounts, a beautiful June day. Not too hot, not too cool. The breeze rustled the leaves and the waves of the lake lapped the shoreline. Not a cloud in the bright blue expanse above the camp, which was buzzing with Camp Leaders and trainees. You stood at the entrance, helping direct people to the registration table. You were excited to see some of your favorites again – especially Suzie and Dustin. They’d been campers you bonded with last year, and you were ready to see them again.

Suzie came by first, adorably excited to see Dustin when he arrived. “He said he’s bringing a friend to help be a counselor, do you know them?”

“Oh, I have no clue,” you remark. “Do you know their name?”

“Steve, something? They’re pretty close.”

The name Steve had always left a bitter taste in your mouth, so you visibly cringe. Suzie’s brows furrow but you assure her you’re fine. It can’t be that Steve. There’s no way the Steve you knew at Camp Golden Rays was about to come here, to a nerd-infested camp, to help out with kids. No way.

You continue to greet campers and new counselors as they come. During a lull, you lean against the picket fence that lined the entrance, looking out at the parking lot. You see a nice BMW come into view – it’s not one you’d seen before. Must be someone new, you think, pushing yourself up off the fence to greet them.

The first person you notice is Dustin, easily recognizable despite the hat covering his curly hair. He’s taller than the last time you’d seen him – kids grow up so fast. You smile brightly, happy for him to finally arrive, but your smile plummets comically as you see the next person step out.

It’d been 5 years since you’d seen Steve Harrington, and his hair had grown out and his body had toned, but it was unquestionably him. Steve, that stupid, smug bastard. That idiotic jerk who used to smack your lunch tray and trip you. That moron who all the girls swooned over and excused countless times for shitty behavior.

Here he is, at Camp Know Where – a place you never thought you’d ever see him.

Of course, Steve doesn’t know who you are, at first. His concussions had clouded his memory, only remembering bits and pieces. It takes work for him to remember who people are, or what things happened. Most of his memories of Camp Golden Rays are intact, but he had severely repressed his shitty tween behavior. As he approaches, all he really thinks about is that Dustin was right, there were babes here.

“Y/N!” Dustin calls out, running awkwardly with his trunk to come hug you. You hug him, but your eyes stay on Steve, who beams at you as if he didn’t ruin your whole life.

“Look who it is.” Your voice is cold and monotonous.

Steve stops dead in his tracks, confusion twisting on his face. What now? he thinks. This isn’t the first time he’s forgotten who someone was. But then it hits him, and the realization nearly sweeps him off his feet. Regret, remorse, guilt, and anger rip through him as he remembers you. You, who he used to shove. You, who he used to laugh at. There’s still a part of him that feels that hatred for you, deep down, and he tries to shove it away.

“Jesus Christ,” he says under his breath, before loudly saying, “Hi, Y/N.”

Dustin’s brows knit together, and he looks between you two. He can assume that you both have a history. Steve probably stood you up or something. Slowly, he asks, “You two…?”

“Nice car,” you quip. “Daddy buy that for you?”

“Nice to see you, too,” Steve responds, dragging his feet towards you. There’s a lot of things he wants to say – that he’s sorry, that you look really good now, that he’s changed. But it all rests at the base of his throat. His mouth opens and closes a few times.

“Can someone please explain?” Dustin says.

“You’re friends with this asshat?” You ask Dustin, gesturing to Steve. “Like, actual friends with him?”

“Guilty,” Dustin says sheepishly. He’ll fill you in on Steve’s growth later. “Let’s go find Suzie, Steve.”

And despite your apprehension towards each other, you and Steve share the same thought – This is going to be a long summer.

===

taglist (join here!): @harringtown @heart-eye-harrington @rosecolouredboi @comedy-witch @lovesong-remastered

#steve harrington #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fic #steve harrington au #stranger things fic #stranger things au #stranger things x reader #stranger things x you #the campers #working on a playlist!!!

229 notes · View notes

pascal-istheway · 4 years

Text

Bounty Flaw - Chapter 2: The Future

Read it here on ao3

Fandom: The Mandalorian, Star Wars

Rating: Not Rated

Characters: Din Djarin x F Reader

MASTERLIST

-------

So it turns out she was none of them. She didn’t run, bargain, or fight. At least not in the beginning. Whatever happened back there - there’s just something unexplainable that I can’t shake. What the hell is wrong with me? I’ve never once offered not to carbonite a bounty. Now, here I am, offering up a pretty sweet deal with this girl. All because the kid did some magic back there. And that’s another thing - what the fuck was that?

I’d known there was something different about the little guy, that much had been obvious from the start. I just wasn’t sure why he was so special to them but now I know. His… abilities made him special. I will never be sure of the full extent of them, hell, I don’t think he even knows the full extent of them. But whatever he did wiped him out for a while.

I don’t know what I was thinking. There was just something in those terrified eyes that made me turn soft for a moment. I just couldn’t bring myself to be cruel to her. After watching the kid heal her, something inside me just snapped. I have never seen him do that for… anyone. Not a single one of my bounties. Most of the time he didn’t even look at them. What’s so special about her?

------

When you finally are able to open your eyes, they are heavy as lead. You lay there for a few minutes trying to assess your surroundings, taking in the metallic surfaces around you. Maker, it’s so hard to open your eyes. You are completely and utterly exhausted.

You try to move your body and find it is very stiff, your limbs refusing to move. You uncurl your fingers and flex them once or twice before you decide to test your legs. It doesn’t actually register with you that you’re in the Mandalorian’s ship.

When you reach out, feeling the metal walls surrounding you on all sides, you realize “ something doesn’t feel right” ... then, it hits you. In rapid succession, you sit up, the blanket sliding off your shoulders, and immediately whack your head on a metal structure hanging above you giving, what you’re sure will be a nasty concussion or, at the very least, a gnarly looking bruise.

You rub your head, cursing under your breath “ dank farrik-”, your pulse begins to slow as your eyes adjust to your surroundings. All the memories of the past few days hit you instantly. The escape, the infection… The Mandalorian... Your vision comes into focus as you look down and see yourself inside some type of bed carved into the far wall of his ship.

You don’t remember getting into this bed. It isn’t very comfortable. In fact, your back really hurts. You groan, moving your shoulder around and rubbing the side of your neck as you stretch. How long have you been out? It feels like it has at least been over a day because your body is so stiff and locked up. You notice how dark it is in here. Where are the lights? The only thing you can see is a few, very small red and green lights, illuminating along with parts of the ship indicating working machinery in the hull.

Scooting forward, you cautiously step down onto the floor and work your way off the cot. As soon as you place all your weight onto your legs, you almost topple over. Your hand instantly reaches down to your leg, searching for your wound. To your surprise, you feel nothing. The bacta shot has completely closed the gash on your leg, not even leaving a trace of it ever being there. This brings you to the next question, your clothes. They are not the ones you remember wearing when you arrived …

In fact, you don’t recognize these clothes at all. The shirt is about two sizes too big for you and the pants, despite having a drawstring, still hang off your hips with room to spare. You sigh, knowing you need to find this guy so you make your way forward, feeling your way around in the dark by putting your hands out and waving them around in front of you before you step. The steps are slow and cautious in an attempt to find your way to some sort of light source. He might’ve put you in some warm socks at least? The ground was freezing...

You turn your body slightly to the right and feel around, looking for something to grab hold of. Suddenly you feel a sharp pain stub shoot up your foot as you begin hurtling towards the ground. You throw your hands out in hopes of catching yourself, but you are too late. You let out a helpless yelp as your face smashes into the cold, metal surface.

“Dank fucking farrik!” you yelp.

You lay there for a few minutes, rubbing your foot while trying to regain your bearings when a bright light bursts into the hull from above making you squint painfully away. You hear metal clanking against metal as someone descends down the ladder. A pair of boots slam to the floor close to where you are lying, then silence.

“Are you always this clumsy?” A modulated voice cuts the silence.

Your cheeks flush a bright red as you try to shuffle your way up. Yes, you are indeed very clumsy, but he doesn’t have to point that out. In fact, you almost feel insulted that you just need to reply in your pure sassy form.

“Are you always so friendly and charming?” you shoot back in a high-pitched tone. He just stands there like a statue, making no sounds and remaining impossibly still.

He is a little intimidating , you would never admit that, though. The way he just stands there in complete silence, towering over you. It’s unnerving , you think to yourself. You stare back, puffing your chest out in hopes you at least look somewhat menacing to him.

The silence seems to drag out forever, neither of you wanting to be the first to break it. Finally, he clears his throat.

“How is your leg?” he asks, pointing to your now completely healed wound under your baggy pant leg.

“It’s fine… thanks.” You shoot back, lifting the sagging fabric to show him. There’s a slight scar, but you’re impressed at how far the bacta goes to heal wounds.

As you let the pant leg fall down, you suddenly remembered that these clothes were not yours.

“Did you put these clothes on me?” you asked with a fit of annoyed anger rising in your voice.

“Your other clothes were destroyed,” he said simply, “they were ripped up, covered in blood and who knows what else. Did you expect me to just leave you in them? Of course, I put those clothes on you. Who else would have?” he throws his hands up as he asks you, mirroring your agitated state.

Your cheeks begin to flush when you realize he had, in fact, seen you naked. You both stand there in uncomfortable silence for a few minutes before he lets out a loud sigh.

“I don’t know what else you would’ve expected me to do in this situation…”

You adjust the shirt at your waist, trying to get comfortable in his presence. “I just wasn’t expecting to wake up in something different. It was a shock, that’s all,” you tone down the sass in an attempt to be grateful. Because you really should be grateful for them. That was the truth of the matter, you were out of credits, and only packed one extra set of clothes because that’s all you could carry, which reminded you, “where did you put my old clothes, speaking of.”

“Compactor… where else would you put them?” He said it so casually it made your head spin.

“I only have one spare!! I could’ve repaired them!” you yell at him, “what the fuck were you - oh Maker, never mind!” you throw your hands up in exasperation.

“I was only trying to help you,” he stood there with his hands crossed over his chest, “ and need I remind you that I am being kind enough as it is not throwing you into carbonite. You. Are. A. Bounty. I have no reason to offer you kindness.” He shoots back at you. You can see him recede a little as soon as the words leave his mouth.

He lets out a long, exasperated sigh.

“Look, you’re going to have to cut me some slack here. The trip will be a lot less painful for both of us if we can stop being so hostile with each other. I need you to work with me. Just make the best out of the situation.” He lowers his voice in a poor attempt to make his last statement seem less aggressive.

You stand there for a few seconds before you try to relax your face. He is right. He didn’t throw you into carbonite. He also was only trying to help. The anger inside you slowly starts to leave your body as you take a few deep breaths.

“Look, I am sorry. I just… this isn’t the most wonderful situation to be in. Maybe you should cut me some slack,” you come back at him, “you’ve forced me onto your ship to take me back to my worst nightmare. Just please… try to understand why I am so pissed.” You reply softly in hopes of diffusing the situation. The last thing you want is to end up in carbonite next to the other bounties he’s collected. There is no chance of you escaping if that were to happen.

“Thank you… really… for all your help” you continued hoping you sounded sincere. He stands there for a few seconds more in silence before speaking.

“Taking you back to…” he pauses, approaching the question with caution, “your nightmare?” he asks. “What do you mean?”

This guy probably doesn’t want to hear your entire backstory. He probably doesn’t even care, so what’s the point? You sigh, frustrated that you even have to explain.

“It doesn’t matter...don’t worry about it” you reply abruptly.

Din lets out yet another sigh. “I’ll be up in the cockpit. I don’t trust you to leave you alone down here. If you’re going to be out of carbonite, you’re going to be within my sight at all times until we get to Nevarro, understand?” he asks harshly.

“Whatever you say tin foil” you mumble under your breath. You meant to say it so low he couldn’t hear you, but the quick snap of his helmet back in your direction affirmed that he had heard you. “ This is going to be just fucking great ,” you think to yourself sarcastically.

A few hours later, you are still sitting in the co-pilot seat of the cockpit. You and Mando haven’t spoken a single word to each other. As soon as you followed him up here, he had demanded you sit in the seat and not move. You had crossed your arms over your chest, like a child , and plopped down in the seat with an angry look across your face. You weren't giving him the satisfaction of having you obey his every command without protest.

You sat there, sulking for a few seconds before you were distracted by something. Your eyes shot up to the windshield of the Crest to take in the beautiful scenery before you, hyperspace. You had never been in hyperspace before. It was more beautiful than you could have ever imagined. Your mouth had dropped open without you realizing it. The stars dazzling across your face were the most magnificent thing you think you’d ever seen.

“Close your mouth before you catch bugs in there”. Mando had exclaimed.

That was enough to make you realize you never wanted to talk to him again unless you needed to. He was so annoying .

So here you sit, hours later, still sulking with your arms crossed in the co-pilot seat of the Crest. You start searching your mind for ways that you can get out of this very shitty situation. The only way you see yourself even having a slight chance at escape is by running when you land. You knew you wouldn’t get far unless there was some type of distraction. He was good, so the distraction was going to have to be great. Your thoughts are interrupted by the sound of something shuffling behind you.

You turn your chair around, slightly startled, only to see two big black eyes staring up at you. The kid . You had almost forgotten about him. He is just about the cutest creature you have ever seen. You looked him over from the soft pink color on the inside of his ears to the wisps of hair that dotted along with the wrinkles across his forehead. He looked almost old in ways you couldn’t quite explain or put your finger on. You hesitate to ask, thinking better of it.

The kid lets out a quiet babble as you see him raise his little hands up in your direction. Does he… does he want you to pick him up? You start to soften as he brings up his other hand making a grabby motion with his fingertips. You scoot forward to the edge of your seat before you are interrupted by a menacing, modulated voice.

“Don’t even think about touching him,” the Mandalorian says flatly without even turning around to see the child motioning so sweetly to you.

“He’s asking politely,” you respond, ignoring him and grabbing the small creature under the arms and lifting him. The Mandalorian swivels his chair around and grabs the child from your grasp which sends him into an uncontrollable fit. Well, serves him right. He tucks him into his lap, ignoring his cries and takes a small knob from a shifter to his right, and unscrews it, handing it to the small child. This perks him up slightly as he plays with it but eventually, he just throws it on the floor and makes more grabby hands towards you.

“I don’t mind holding him while you drive… or fly… er, whatever it is you do here,” you roll your eyes at him.

He groans and bows his head, looking at the child, before sighing in defeat and turning around to face you. “This is a one-time deal. Don’t go getting any ideas in your head,” he slowly hands him over to you as you tuck him into your lap. He instantly cheers up, clearly appreciating the change of scenery. The Mandalorian gets up and grabs the small silver knob from where it rolled on the floor and hands it to him, patting him once on the head before taking his seat again and falling back into that uncomfortable silence.

The entire ride to Nevarro stays like that. From your spot behind him, you’re able to really watch and examine him. You watch the subtle twitch in his hand against the steering column - this rhythmic tapping he does almost like he’s thinking. The child has fallen asleep in your arms at this point, so you sit there, slowly letting your eyes drop as you watch this metal man tap away on his console. Before long, you feel the jolt of the ship dropping out of hyperspace and dropping into the atmosphere of Nevarro.

“Wake up,” is the only warning you get from him as he starts flipping switches and pushing buttons, preparing for a landing.

“Good morning to you too,” you reply, stretching your arms over your head. Panicked in the realization that the child is no longer in your lap, you look around, searching for the little green guy.

“He’s already where he’s supposed to be. You guys took quite the nap together,” he explained. You sagged back into the seat, sighing in relief.

“So what’s the plan,” you fidget with your hands in your lap. It occurred to you previously in the trip that you’d need to come up with some kind of plan between now and when you landed but you hadn’t expected to sleep through the entire thing. This really wasn’t beneficial for making plans. A slight sheen of sweat brushed against your brow as you quickly flipped through your exit strategies and realized, you really didn’t have one.

You’d never been off Tatooine and you had no clue where to go from here. No credits that could help you out. Shit. This was really not fucking ideal.

Your thoughts are suddenly interrupted by a little screech coming from below your chair. You jump so hard you almost fall out of your chair. You look down to see that the kid has returned from wherever the Mandalorian had stuffed him away. He is standing at the base of your chair raising his hands toward you wanting you to pick him up again. How can you resist such a cute gesture?

“What did I tell you, kid?” The Mandalorian exclaims. He lets out a frustrated sigh. “It’s nap time.” He begins to get up from his seat and reach for the kid. You swoop him up as quickly as you can before he has the chance to take him.

“Oh for fuck’s sake. Leave him alone! Why does it bother you so much that he wants me to hold him?” You shoot back. The Mandalorian freezes in his position, arms stretched out towards him, without offering you another word.

“That’s what I thought, shiny. You have no reason.” You exclaim with triumph in your voice. He doesn’t have to be so damn grumpy. You look down at the kid with adoration. He is just about the cutest creature you have ever seen.

He brings his little hand up slowly, making a sweet little noise as his fingers connect with your left cheek. You almost melt from how cute it is. Damn, he really seems to like you. If the situation were different, you might actually want to keep him for yourself.

Suddenly, a bright light is flashing over your vision. You almost scream out in shock… until you see him . Your brother. It’s the strangest thing you have ever seen, it’s like you are watching him on a holographic screen. You see him running through a forest, fallen trees, and disturbed soil exploding around him. It looks like he has been badly injured. There is blood trickling out of his right ear and multiple cuts and bruises all over his body.

Suddenly, he stops, frantically looking back towards something in the distance. You cannot see what he is looking at, but you can see the pure fear on his face. Before you can process what is happening, you see a blurry hand reach out and shove him in the back. Simultaneously, a blaster fire comes from the same direction and buries itself into his back, causing him to collapse.

“ NO!” a scream escapes from your throat. You reach out trying to catch him, but it’s like you can’t move. His body seems miles away from you, shrinking into the distance. Images burst in your eyes - blaster fire, blood, wood shards flying… then a flash of his lifeless body laying on the ground before nothing but darkness.

A blood-curdling scream bursts from deep within your throat, like a waterfall of tears, burst from your eyes. You have no idea what is happening, but you are witnessing one of your worst nightmares. Nothing you’ve lived through, not even watching your parents dying, had ever been this vivid or intense. A strong hand grips your shoulder and everything comes back to you at once. All you can hear is the ringing in your ears, muddling everything in the room.

“Hey!” A modulated voice shouts, cutting through the screeching in your head. Your vision fades in and out, slowly coming back into focus along with your surroundings. Reaching out at the sides of the cockpit, the cool metal-like ice on your fingertips. The Mandalorian is standing in front of you holding a knocked-out child in his left arm and shaking you violently with the other. You blink a few times trying to bring him into focus. You can feel the wetness on your cheeks as tears continue to fall out of your eyes.

“What the FUCK?” you scream as you grab his arm trying to center yourself. “What the actual fuck was that?” You repeat, trying desperately to make a rational string of thoughts.

“Are you okay? What happened?” The Mandalorian asks, clearly concerned.

You sit there for a moment, swallowing several times before you answer. Are you okay? What the fuck just happened? Clearly, it was something the kid did. He is clearly gifted, you already knew that much from watching him heal your leg. Did he just give you a vision too? Your mind suddenly clicks as the realization hits you. The future.

“My brother!” You scream out, another wave of panic coming over you, “I have to get to him. He’s in trouble!” You bolt upright, almost shoving him over as you start to hyperventilate. You have to get out of here, now.

“Hey, slow down there little bird,” The Mandalorian exclaims as he grabs your shoulder, “just tell me what’s going on! What just happened?” He asks as he whips you back around to face him. Clearly he was just as concerned as you were, although it was unclear if he was more concerned for you or for the child.

“He showed me! I- I think he showed me the future.” You shout. “I don’t know how, but I saw him! I saw my brother and I have to get to him before he gets hurt. I can’t lose him too.” You exclaim. You notice the sobs starting to work their way through your body as you drop to your knees. You sit there for a moment, letting out a horrid-sounding sob from deep in your chest.

“I-I’m sorry. I don’t know what to do. I can’t stand this.” You cry out. You let out a final, pitiful, “I can’t lose him too,” you whisper through your sobs. It was so quiet, he almost didn’t hear you. You pound your fist into the cold, metal floor in frustration, “I can’t fucking lose him! I already lost everyone else I love,” you scream, pleading to the universe, “I can’t watch this happen and not-” you lose yourself in the gut-wrenching sobs. There is absolutely nothing you can do. You’re stuck on this damn ship with this damn Mandalorian who is taking you back to slavery. You are completely helpless.

Feeling your body practically invert itself, you curl into your knees, letting yourself pour your heart out. You let every memory, every feeling you’ve ever had go in that cockpit. You cry for your parents, for the way they were killed. You cry for your friends back home and the pain they will endure for your failed escape attempt. You cry for your brother and his inescapable fate. And you cry for yourself for this disastrous fate you got yourself into.

The Mandalorian shuffles around a bit before you see his massive frame coming into your blurry vision. His fingertips slowly reach under your chin and force your head up to look at him. He has kneeled down to your level, helmet merely inches from your face.

“Hey… I need you to open your eyes and look at me,” he says in a much softer tone.

Doing as he says, your eyelashes flutter open softly. Your vision is very blurry, nose runny, spit falling from your mouth, just a complete mess. Hating how vulnerable you look in front of him, you attempt to reach up and wipe the mess off your face.

“That’s it, just take deep breaths, little bird,” he whispers softly. His thumb starts moving slowly across the bottom of your chin. “Eyes right here,” he instructs.

“Listen to me ,” he says softly, “I don’t know who you are, but my kid and you have some kind of connection going on here that I just can’t seem to explain,” You had to give him credit, the guy was trying his best with you, “I don’t know why they wanted so much for you. I took this job because bounties are shit jobs lately and I’ll be honest, you were good money.”

You stare at him in shock, your mouth dropping open. This was the most he’d spoken to you since he picked you up and quite frankly, this was the most honest anyone had ever been with you in your entire life. A part of you felt like you wanted to slap the shit out of him - if it weren’t for the helmet. But the other part of you thought how refreshing it was for someone to just tell you the damn truth for once. You wipe your face with the back of your hand, praying you didn’t look too much like a disaster.

“Your guess is as good as mine. I don’t know why they wanted me back so badly,” sniffling, you look up at him from where your hands were wrapping around that strand of hair. “I keep thinking it over… wouldn’t it just have been cheaper for Morga to write me off as a loss as he does with the other slaves? Why does he want me back so badly?”

“I can’t answer that for you,” he sighs deeply, clearly weighing out the options. It seemed to be weighing heavily on him, whatever he was considering because the silence was heavy enough to slice through with a knife.

“Alright well here’s the deal. I’m sticking my neck out for you with Karga. If I do this, I gotta be able to trust you…”

“What… uh what do you mean?” you question him, nervous for the answer.

“I can’t believe I’m doing this again,” he whispers softly, almost soft enough you could barely hear him, “ but I don’t think my kid will forgive me if I turn you in.” His nervous laughter echoes between the two of you. “So I was thinking -” he paused, deeply considering his words, “what if I didn’t bring you back?”

There’s a long pause of silence where you both just stare at each other before you speak.

“I’m sorry, what?” you simply stare at him, eyes practically bugging out of your head.

“What if,” he draws his words out, “what if I just didn’t bring you back? I did it with the kid before. Sure it’s a risk but, clearly, there’s something else going on here and he was smart enough to pick up on it and I don’t know…”

“Where would I go?” you question him. This would surely solve one of your problems, but not the remaining part, “I have no credits, no home to go back to, no job. I have nothing. You threw away my other set of clothes.” You stand and start pacing the tiny confines of the cockpit.

“Well let’s make a deal. You stay with me. I can protect you, offer you a place to stay, and in exchange, you watch the kid while I’m out collecting quarries,” he replied.

Holy shit he was serious. It almost makes you want to maniacally laugh. Shit, maybe you were having a full-blown breakdown... You cover your mouth with one hand but a giggle escapes. “Oh shit, you are serious aren’t you?”

“Well not if you’re going to laugh at me about it…” he replied.

“Ok, so let’s say that I do stay. What would you tell, uh, Karga was it?”

“Uh... I haven’t gotten that far yet,” he puts his hand on the back of his neck and looks up, “however, I feel like we need to have a little more mutual trust going on here between us,” his finger points between the two of you. “Because this isn’t working. This silent treatment isn’t going to work going forward. Not for either of us especially if you’re going to be living here.”

“Wh - what do you want?” you ask.

“Well, when you’re ready, why don’t you tell me a little something about you? And in exchange, I’ll tell you something about me. Sound good?” he sat down in his chair and crossed his ankles together, motioning for you to sit down.

You gingerly take a seat on the edge of the chair, feeling like prey ready to run at the single sight of danger. Your reflexes are so tense and on edge, you’re practically about to burst.

“Alright, well, what do you want to know?” you ask, swallowing a lump in your throat.

“Anything you’d like to tell me,” he leans back, clearly relaxed in his own space.

You swallow the courage that was bubbling into your throat, realize you need to ask him. You have been presented with an incredibly rare opportunity here, one that not many people have been gifted. You were given a prophecy, a vision of the future. Your brother's future more importantly. And in this future, you’d seen him killed. A moment in time, stamped in the future. Something you could prevent from happening altogether. Not many people had this kind of power and only the ones that did have their fates entwined with the force.

You close your eyes, imagining yourself on that ledge with fate, grasping their hand and taking the leap off together into the unknown.

Your eyes pop open, staring directly at him as if willing to see his eyes behind the shiny beskar. “If I am to stay, I have a request,” you say softly, praying he will accept the new terms. He just sat there, waiting for you to finish and when you didn’t, he just simply said, “alright.”

You pause, confidence rapidly fading, but instead, you push on, “I don’t know how else to say this, but I can’t stay here and go out looking for my brother on my own, which we both know I will never find him in time… or -” you pause, hoping he picks up the rest of your intentions.

The Mandalorian stares at you in silence, not saying anything. You sigh loudly, waving your hands in the air, “fuc- will you help me?” you pause, looking at him. “Please?” you add for good measure.

“I can help out around here in return. I ca- I can watch the kid while you do your work. I can...fly? Well, I can’t fly, but you could teach me? I can-” He cuts you off before you can continue rambling.

“Stop.” He exclaims as he holds his hand up. “You’re getting ahead of yourself.”

He seems to consider it, leaning forward and nodding his head while he rests his arms on his knees.

“If we’re going to do this,” he starts, “I’m going to need a little trust from you. We need to learn to trust each other. You have to give me something. I don’t know anything about you, and you don’t know anything about me. If I am to help you, you need to give me a little background. I cannot help you if I am walking in blind.” He stares at you patiently, waiting for a reply.

You look around, literally anywhere but directly at him. The thoughts dancing through your brain go from one moment in time to the next. When someone asks you to talk about yourself, why is it that your brain suddenly can’t think of a single interesting thing? What would be the right thing to say that would make you seem like a trustworthy person?

“Okay…” you start out, clearing your throat, “I was born on Tatooine… been there my whole life I guess. I -” you pause, looking up at him to see if this is what he’s looking for, “I...I am, or I guess I was, a slave to the Hutts,” you pause, sucking in a reassuring breath of air, “I have been all my life. My whole family was. Slaves, I mean...” you admitted. You look up at him again to search for any sign of a reaction. You get absolutely nothing, just the blank stare he always has when you talk to him.

“Being a slave is all I have ever known. In fact, this is the first time I have even left that damned city on Tatooine,” you pause, thinking back to your little hut. The small room off the kitchen with a tiny cot for you to come home to and crash after a long day at the cantina. How many nights you’d spent on the roof, staring up at the stars wishing on every single one that someone would come and take you away… You’d pray every night for a life better than the one you had. You hadn’t imagined anything close to this…

Taking a sharp breath in, you continued with your story, “I wasn’t allowed to go anywhere. The market on occasion when Morga needed something important, but that was rare. He had runners for those things. My parents…” you trail off, feeling tears starting to form in the rim of your eyes, “- I’m… I’m all that’s left… other than my brother. At least I hope he’s alive.” Your throat starts constricting as the emotions start to overtake your body. No… I will not show weakness in front of him. You clear your throat in an attempt to get rid of the sensation, swallowing the burning lump in your throat.

“I haven’t heard or seen him since he was just a boy. I don’t really remember what he looks like even. Sometimes I’m afraid I wouldn’t recognize him if I saw him because it’s been so long.” You smile, thinking back at the boy he used to be. Brown curly hair and the most brilliant blue eyes you’d ever laid your own eyes on. The Mandalorian just watches you silently as you talk, taking in what you’re saying. You give him little bits, not really divulging into anything too deep.

“It’s just… it hasn’t been easy. I want something more with my life. I want to find my brother and run away to another planet. I just don’t want to live that lifestyle anymore. I don’t want my brother to have to live that life anymore. He was able to get away but last I heard he was caught and resold to another planet. I don’t know where but I wanted to try to find him. They aren’t good to me, never have been. Morga wasn’t good to any of us.” You didn’t even realize you were crying until you reached up and felt the wetness dripping off your cheeks. Apologizing silently for the rambling, you wonder if this was even what he was asking for because he never responds. He isn’t even reacting - just staring. Just listening.

“You can call me Mando,” is his only reply.

------

“Ahh, Mando! This is a pleasant call! What do I owe the pleasure of seeing your face over a holographic instead of in person?” Karga said over the blue hologram.

“I’m delivering news that your last bounty is undeliverable,” Mando says plainly into the receiver. You stay back out of the receivers shot, anxiously waiting.

“I can’t say I’m not surprised, considering your track record, but I’m also a bit shocked. Had to wet your whistle, did you?” Karga laughed and the sound was enough to make your blood boil. What you wouldn’t give to meet this guy in person to sucker punch him in the fat fucking mouth.

As if Mando knew what you were thinking, he reached out to block you from stepping into the shot, “That’s enough Karga, just know she’s undeliverable and that’s the end of it,” he gave you a gentle shove back. “If you have something you’d like to say further, I have no issues with meeting you at the gate.”

“As tempting as it would be considering you still owe us from the last undelivered bounty , ” Karga’s voice is dripping with disdain, “I can’t waste the men at this very moment.” He smiled sweetly into the hologram. You laugh, knowing that means Mando would completely whoop his ass. Mentally, you pump a fist in the air at him.

“You may not understand why I have to do this Karga, but just know it has to be done. If you were me, you’d do the same thing,” Mando’s voice strained. Whatever happened between them with the child clearly still bothered him.

“That’s the difference boy , I don’t betray the guild or my creed . I thought Mandalore understood that above all else. Guess you were just defective or-” Mando cut the transmission, abruptly standing and chucked the receiver across the small room. He was frustrated with himself more than anything but what came across was just pure rage. Something you were familiar with being on the receiving end of.

He stands there, arms taught on the center console of the cockpit, his shoulders rising and falling with each breath. The anger physically radiated out through the Beskar. Afraid to make a sound, you stood there watching him, waiting for any sign that you hadn’t done anything wrong - that he wasn’t going to suddenly change his mind and send you off to be resold.

“Mando I’m so-”

“Get out,” he cut you off, hand raised towards you, his words dripping with a distaste for you. Or at least that’s what you interpreted it as. In reality, he was angry at Karga for everything he said about you.

It wasn’t a good look for him, he realized that you were sure of it. But the outburst had sent you away in tears nonetheless. Between the two of you, the emotions were all over the place in this ship. You guess that’s just part of the adjustment period. You’d climbed down the ladder only to find a cot all made up in the middle of the ship. He must’ve come down when you were napping.

Which of course only made you cry harder because this only meant he’d been already thinking about this before he decided to call Karga and tell him to basically go fuck himself. You laid down on the cot, curling up and clutching one of the pillows, letting yourself cry again until you couldn’t cry anymore. After today, you were all cried out. Maker, this was going to be complicated.

#din djarin #din djarin x reader #the mandalorian #the mandalorian fanfiction #this is going to get rough #this is the way #slow burn #mando x reader #reader insert #pascal-istheway #pedro pascal

16 notes · View notes