#will this make it up for the angst yesterday | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

girlygguk · 18 hours ago

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EASY ⋆ CHAPTER ONE

summary when you’re young and swept up in the whirlwind of idol life, where every little move is scrutinized and relationships are hidden behind layers of secrecy, the pressure of the world watching makes everything so much more complicated. it's a lot. of course it is. yet, to jeon jungkook... loving you is still the easiest thing in the world.

⋆ please read the prologue first ⋆

pairing bts idol jk x female idol reader

genre idolverse, bff2l, fluff, angst

word count 13.1k

content read prologue for full fic warnings, chapter set in 2016, simp jk, down bad jk, heavy pining, touchy no-boundary bffs, gukkie's bday, two award shows, nct jaehyun appearance, eomma jang appearance, a bit of cursing, misunderstandings, jealousy, oc is confused, cringe fic, final proofread done on sleepy brain

author's note hello my patient little lovelies 💟 this chapter originally hit 20k 😭 but since it's a series, i decided to split it up to keep u guys excited for what's to come instead of giving it all away in one go :P had to cut a couple insaneeely cringy scenes 😒 so i’m v sorry if a few of the transitions are a bit choppy.. 💔 pls lemme know what u think tho!! love you lots<3

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CHAPTER ONE: Nineteen

"Close your eyes."

Jungkook flinched at the sound of your voice, his phone slipping from his hand and landing on the couch cushion with a soft thud.

His gaze had been focused on nothing, just scrolling aimlessly through Instagram while waiting for you to return. After the second movie of your marathon ended, you had suddenly disappeared into your room, leaving behind only a vague promise to 'be back in a sec!'

Obviously, he had tried to follow, but you stopped him in his tracks and forced him to sit back down on the couch. Even made him promise not to move.

So now, Jungkook barely registered your words, his mind too focused on the fact that you were finally back. Instinctively, he began to turn around. But before he could even glance in your direction, you gently placed a hand on his head, halting him in place.

"Uh-uh," you laughed, your voice light, the sound brushing past his ear like a whisper. It tickled. "Close your eyes, ttoki."

The closeness of your voice sent a tingle, or seven, down his spine. Without a second thought, his eyes fluttered shut. Whether it was from the command itself, or the undeniable effect you had on him, he wasn't sure.

You stood on your toes, leaning in to make sure his eyes were firmly closed, your face hovering close enough that he could smell the popcorn on your breath. He shivered.

A satisfied smile tugged at your lips as you quietly moved around to the front of the couch and plopped down beside him, the cushion dipping under your weight.

"Hold out your hands," you instructed softly, biting your lip to stifle your excitement.

Without hesitation, Jungkook complied, turning his palms up in front of him. He expected something small—a snack, maybe, or one of the random trinkets you were always carrying around. But when you laid something soft and surprisingly heavy in his hands, his fingers instinctively closed around it, feeling the familiar texture of fabric.

“It just arrived yesterday,” you explained. “And we’ve been together since, so I didn’t get the chance to wrap it properly…”

Jungkook’s brows furrowed in confusion, even with his eyes still firmly shut. "But… you already gave me my gift?" he said, his head tilting slightly toward you.

“Ttoki,” you chuckled, reaching over to brush your hand against his forehead, smoothing the crease that had formed. “I made you pancakes for breakfast. That’s not a real gift.”

“They were amazing, though…” he mumbled, leaning into your touch, his face melting into that squishy pout that always melted your heart.

“I’m glad you liked them,” you replied with a laugh, giving his cheek a light pinch before settling back against the couch. “Okay. Open your eyes.”

Slowly, Jungkook blinked his eyes open, clearing the blur from his vision as he glanced down at the item in his hands. The air in his lungs froze.

It was an Off-White skate tee. Thee Off-White skate tee.

The same one that had been discontinued months ago. The one he’d casually mentioned to you, lamenting how he hadn’t bought it when he had the chance. He had even confessed to you once—when you’d slyly prodded him for more details about the shirt—that he’d hesitated back when it was available. At the time, he and his brothers were barely scraping by, and he’d been too cautious to spend what little money he had on something like that. Now, he could buy it a hundred times over, but it was too late. The brand no longer made that style.

Yet, here it was. In his hands.

Jungkook stared at the shirt like he’d never seen a piece of clothing before. His hands trembled slightly as he lifted the fabric, running his fingers over the soft material. "How… how did you get this?" he asked, his voice barely audible, eyes still glued to the shirt.

You smiled, pleased with his reaction. “I found it on HandMeDown,” you explained, referring to the app where people in Seoul sold their secondhand clothes. “And don’t worry, I already washed it. It’s ready to wear.”

Jungkook instinctively brought the shirt to his nose, the familiar scent of your fabric conditioner filling his senses. He swallowed back a sigh. “So that’s why you didn’t want me doing your laundry yesterday…” he hummed in realization, now laying the shirt across his lap and staring at it in awe.

“Well, that, and Jiyoung-unnie was offended that you only do mine and not hers,” you giggled.

Jungkook shrugged nonchalantly, the corner of his lips twitching in amusement as if to say, and what about it?

He looked at you then, the gratitude and affection in his eyes overwhelming. “Jjogi…” he said, his voice thick. “Thank you. I love it so much.”

Without another word, Jungkook pulled you into a tight hug, burying his face in the crook of your neck. The warmth of his breath against your skin made you shiver, but you smiled, wrapping your arms around him in return.

“That’s okay, ttoki. I’m glad you like it,” you murmured, your hands moving in gentle circles on his back, your nails lightly scratching the spots you knew he liked. “I’m just sorry this isn’t the big, fancy 19th birthday party that you deserve.”

Jungkook pulled back slightly, his his dark eyes soft as they searched your face. "This is all I wanted," he said simply. "I asked for this…"

You tilted your head, still holding his gaze as your fingers rest gently on his shoulders. "Yeah, I know you wanted Iron Man and time to just relax," you replied with a small smile. “But I still feel bad that everyone else couldn’t come because of those stupid reshoots… They should be back soon, though.”

"Ah," Jungkook mumbled, his teeth catching his lower lip as he nibbled on it—a habit of his when he was lost in thought.

Reshoots. Right.

That was the excuse Namjoon had come up with, conveniently keeping the others away for the night. In reality, Jungkook had asked Namjoon to give him the day alone with you—just you. And Namjoon, being the good hyung he was, made it happen.

Even though Jungkook knew you would’ve been perfectly fine with just you and him for his birthday, he also knew you. Knew that you would've felt guilty for not having the whole group there. Could practically hear your soft voice reminding him how excited the others were to celebrate his birthday, how they would've loved to watch Iron Man with him.

But he didn’t want to watch Iron Man with them. He wanted to watch Iron Man with you.

"That's okay," Jungkook said softly. "I’m more than happy with tonight. It’s—it’s everything I wanted."

"Good." You let out a sigh of relief, your hands covering his as they rested on his lap. "Happy birthday, ttoki. You deserve everything you want. I love you so much, you know that?"

"I do. And I love you more." His words came so easily, so naturally, like they were meant to exist only between the two of you. His gaze lingered on yours for a moment before he turned to gently set the shirt aside. "Thank you so much, jjogi. God, you're just—"

Jungkook cut himself short with a huff, as if whatever he was about to say would’ve been too much. Instead, he leaned forward, and gently guided your arms around his neck. In one motion, he maneuvered you down onto the couch beneath him, your soft laughter filling his ears as you sank into the cushions.

He settled comfortably on top of you, his head finding its place in the crook of your neck. "Let’s sleep," he mumbled, his voice muffled against your skin.

“But we still have the third movie to get through,” you protested, though your voice lacked conviction as your hands wandered down to gently poke his side.

Jungkook grunted, burrowing deeper into you, making it abundantly clear he wasn’t planning on moving. “Nap first,” he grumbled.

You laughed, poking him again. “And you don’t want any of your birthday cake?”

Jungkook shook his head lazily, a quiet no escaping his lips as he tightened his arms around you.

You laughed softly, threading your fingers through his hair and gently scratching his scalp. “Well, we should at least move to a bed. We’ll regret sleeping here in the morning.”

Jungkook shook his head again, his voice barely a whisper now. “Just a nap…”

After a pause, he tilted his head back slightly, his dark eyes peeking up at you as he added, almost innocently, “By the way, how much was it?”

You froze for a second, pretending not to hear the question as your fingers continued their slow, soothing strokes through his hair. “Hm? How much was what?”

He let out a soft hum, clearly enjoying your touch, before murmuring sleepily, “The shirt.”

You hesitated, chewing on your bottom lip as you tried to think of a response. “Mmm, I don’t remember,” you finally whispered, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to his cheek in hopes of distracting him. “Let’s sleep,” you added, guiding his head back down against your chest as you leaned into the throw pillow behind you.

What were you supposed to say?

That you’d saved every bit of your allowance for three months just to afford it? That you’d scoured every corner of the internet before stumbling upon it on some random resale app, only to have MarkLee99 refuse to let you haggle the price down, no matter how hard you tried?

It wasn’t that you were embarrassed about your finances in front of Jungkook. God, no. You both had been through way too much together for that. Spent too many nights, broke and broken, licking the seasoning off the snack bags your mom sent from Daegu during trainee days when meals were sparse.

It wasn’t shame— it was that you just didn’t want him to worry. He did that a lot when it came to you.

Jungkook hummed softly, his muscles growing heavier. He knew. He knew that shirt cost you a lot, more than you’d ever admit. You spent your money on him—just him. And god, you were so fucking perfect for that.

Of course he wasn’t going to let it go. He'd pester you tomorrow—or maybe the day after, as a thank you for such an amazing night. But for now? He wasn’t moving. Not from this spot. Not from you.

Jungkook’s eyes finally fluttered shut, his body sinking deeper into yours as sleep began to pull him under. He made sure to keep most of his weight pressed into the couch, though his body stayed comfortably intertwined with yours.

And then he waited.

Patiently listening to the steady rhythm of your breathing, the quiet rise and fall of your chest beneath him, until it finally evened out—reassuring him that you were fast asleep.

Only then did he allow himself to slip into unconsciousness, his mind full of you, his heart lighter than it had been in a long time.

Best birthday ever.

Mnet Asian Music Awards

“And now, the nominees for Song of the Year…”

Jungkook’s gaze was fixed on the floor. Not out of boredom or disinterest—no, nothing like that. But because this way, he could catch glimpses of you in his peripheral vision without needing to strain his eyes around Jimin’s frame or tilt his head in an obvious way. Just the edge of your figure, the way your jewelery shimmered in the lights, the way your hands fidgeted in your lap. He wanted to see your reaction properly, but he had to be careful.

“BTS - Blood Sweat and Tears,” “Exo - Monster,” “GFriend - Rough,” “LUMI - Supernatural,” “Twice - Cheer Up.”

GFriend’s performance had been incredible, and he knew you would've been quietly geeking out over it. You loved the group, especially their song “Rough,” your favorite at the moment. He could practically hear you humming the chorus in his head, like you’d done all month.

It made him smile, remembering how you made him sing it with you that one time. Late night in the practice room, giggling uncontrollably when he forced himself to sing off-key.

Jungkook wished he could’ve seen your face light up when they sang it, but he’s already in hot water for not keeping his expressions in check when you both attend award shows. His managers, his hyungs, and even your leader, Nari, had all warned him.

Nari-noona was kindhearted, much like his own leader. But she was fiercely protective of her members, just as Namjoon-hyung was of his.

A few weeks ago, at an event where both your groups attended, a clip had gone viral of Jungkook staring at you for a little too long to be considered just a glance.

It wasn't just a glance, of course—he had been completely distracted by how good you looked in that gown that night, stealing far more looks than the internet even caught wind of. But the world didn’t need to know that.

Still, the six-second clip had been enough to send netizens into a fucking frenzy.

He wasn’t surprised when the criticism came for him; that always happened. But when you took the brunt of the backlash... yeah, that fucking gutted him.

Nari knew you wouldn’t say anything to Jungkook about it—and you didn't—because you didn’t blame him. You never blamed him for the gossip or the way the internet twisted things. It was just a look.

But the industry you were both in could be as toxic as it was rewarding, and Nari had gently reminded him, in that older sister way, that when you’re constantly in the limelight like he was now, things are different. Even when he thought nobody was paying attention, it only took one person to notice.

She had also pointed out that, as endearing as it was, Jungkook was utterly hopeless at hiding his feelings. Everything was always written right across his face, whether he meant it to be or not.

Though BTS was technically the senior group to LUMI, Nari had been in the industry nearly as long as Namjoon, and both were wise beyond their years. Jungkook would never disregard advice from either of them.

He had promised Nari that he understood, that he was sorry, that he would do better to protect you.

Nari had just smiled. She already knew he would.

"And the 2016 Mnet Asian Music Award winner for Song of the Year… LUMI, Supernatural! Congratulations!"

And just like that, all prior thoughts of keeping his cool completely and utterly evaporated.

Before he could stop himself, Jungkook shot to his feet, his fists punching the air as if he just won the fucking daesang. “YES. Wooooooo!!!"

The stadium exploded in applause, but Jungkook barely registered the noise. His heart pounded in his chest, the euphoria of your win surging through him like nothing he'd ever felt before.

Especially when the first thing you did after Cha Seungwon announced your group’s win was look at him. Not just in his direction, but directly at him.

Your eyes were wide with disbelief, face glowing with pure joy. Jungkook’s breath hitched at the sight. God, you were so beautiful when you were happy.

“Thank fuck,” he muttered under his breath, clapping so hard his palms stung.

No one deserved this award more than your group. "Supernatural" was massive. It dominated the charts in Korea and made waves internationally too. It was everywhere for months—it still was.

He remembered when it first dropped. You were out of town for promo, and when the song played over the speakers at a little local cafe where he was picking up drinks for his members, he couldn’t resist Facetiming you.

You’d been over the moon, screaming into the phone, and made him stay on the line with you until the song ended. He found an empty booth in the back, pulled up his hoodie, and and sat there on the phone with you until all the coffees he’d ordered had gone cold.

Now, as the cameras flashed and chaos ensued around him, Jungkook's focus was locked on you—watching as your members pulled you into a group hug, your eyes shimmering with unshed tears. When you broke away to head for the stage and he remembered you’d have to pass by him… he stood a little straighter.

His hyungs were cheering too—maybe not as embarrassingly as he was—but they knew, just like he did, what this moment meant. You had all trained together, struggled together, grew up in the industry together. Getting this sort of recognition after so much hard work was a feeling that they understood all too well.

As your group bowed to the senior idols seated to his left, you approached the stage steps directly in front of him. Nari was leading the way, but Jungkook noticed the subtle nudge you gave her. It was so slight, anyone else would’ve missed it. But not him.

Nari glanced back at you, confusion flickering across her face for a split second before realization dawned. A knowing smile tugged at her lips as she shifted gracefully, taking a few steps to the side, drawing the camera’s attention with her.

Then the crowd exploded. The loudest cheers of the night echoed around the arena as Nari led the four of you in a deep bow toward BTS.

Jungkook’s grin widened, his heart pounding all over again as you lifted your head, the most adorable fucking smile lighting up your face. He and his members grinned, returning the bow instantly. Taehyung and Jimin added their own touch, wiggling their fingers at your group in a goofy, showing-off way, snickering as the cameras ate it all up.

As Jungkook’s hands stilled, he clasped them together in front of him, fighting off every urge in his body to pull you into his arms and congratulate you properly. He wanted to—god, he wanted to—but he couldn’t. Not now, with every lens in the room trained on you both. Instead, he stayed rooted, lips parting as if to say something, but closing quickly.

You didn’t need words. You never did.

With a little tilt of your head, a soft crinkle of your eyes, you said it all. You knew exactly what he was feeling, and the sweet smile you shot him left his pulse racing. He felt his throat tighten as he swallowed a little too hard, catching the way you bit your lip as you fought off a grin before taking Eunji’s extended hand and heading up onto the platform.

The cameramen scrambled to adjust their angles as your group walked toward center stage. It had been less than two minutes since your name was announced, but for Jungkook, it felt like twenty.

It was ridiculous, really. That stupid, adorable fucking smile of yours, always making him lose his train of thought. And now, apparently, his sense of time too.

With a huff, he dropped back into his seat next to Jimin, already bracing himself for the grilling he'd get once the show aired.

Oh well, what were they going to do? Fire him?

"Wah," Nari's breathless voice echoed through the speakers. The crowd roared in response, bringing a wide grin to her face. Jungkook smiled, watching as you and your members marvelled at the trophy in your leader's hands before turning back to the audience.

"I don’t know what to say, and I always know what to say..." Nari laughed, sending another wave of cheers through the stadium. "I know this might sound like false humility, but we really didn’t think we would win… I mean..."

The crowd erupted in laughter as Nari gestured playfully toward the right, where your sunbae group, Exo, sat. The cameras zoomed in on the group’s modest smiles and head shakes and Jungkook shared a knowing glance with his own members.

You and the rest of LUMI giggled softly, nudging Nari as she bowed sheepishly toward the senior group before regaining her composure.

“Okay, okay… ah, here we go,” Nari chuckled, taking a deep breath as she steadied herself in front of the microphone. "Thank you, Bang PD-nim and BigHit Entertainment for these unbelievable opportunities… Thank you to our amazing friends and families for always loving and supporting us... And thank you to our incredible seniors for showing us what it means to never give up."

The crowd’s response was deafening. Like, ear-piercingly loud. Jungkook soon realized the cause of the explosion when he glanced up at the large LCD screens overhead and saw Taehyung and Jimin displayed in all their glory, posing dramatically for the shot.

Jungkook rolled his eyes, chuckling along with Hobi, yet extremely grateful that the camera didn’t pan to him. He was self-aware enough to know that his eyes were probably shaped like fucking hearts right now.

"And most importantly… thank you so much, Nova," Nari continued, fingers tracing the edges of the trophy. The applause swelled again, somehow even louder than before. "This means more to us than we could ever put into words. We work hard, but Nova, you worked even harder to get us here. This is as much yours as it is ours. Thank you. We love you."

As Nari stepped back with a bow, Jungkook swore he saw her eyes glistening, and his smile softened. He’d never seen Nari-noona cry before.

She waved a calm hand out to you and your members members, signaling for one of you to speak next. Jungkook leaned back in his seat, clapping along with the rest of the room, and beside him, Namjoon let out a low, impressed sigh. “Incredible,” he murmured.

Jungkook and Jimin exchanged looks, snickering but nodding in agreement. Jungkook’s gaze found its way back to you and your members, watching as you all looked at each other, shaking your heads and silently insisting, no, you go.

He almost chuckled aloud, surprised that Jiyoung wasn’t clamoring for the microphone—he couldn’t recall a time when she wasn’t chatting his ear off.

Nari rolled her eyes playfully before gently nudging you toward the microphone.

Jungkook knew there was a camera pointed at him, and he hoped it didn’t catch the way he jerked slightly in his seat, maybe a little too eager for you to hear you speak.

“Ah,” you chuckled nervously as the stadium exploded into cheers the moment you took the mic. A blush crept up your cheeks, and Jungkook instinctively leaned forward, lifting a hand to hide the smile tugging at his lips.

“I don’t- uh…” you began, your voice soft as you glanced at your members, who nodded at you encouragingly. "Sorry," you murmed into the microphone with a light laugh, clearing your throat as you gathered your thoughts. "Mmm, well, when we were writing this song, we were so excited to see what people would think, and, well… it seems you liked it?”

Jungkook bit back a groan. So fucking cute.

He already knew you weren't a fan of public speaking, just as he wasn't. But still, to see the most secure girl he knew, the most powerful performer he’d ever seen, turn all blushy and shy when she had to give a speech? Fucking hell.

“Nari-unnie already said it all, but really, we’re so happy and sooo thankful. We will continue to work hard, always… Ahh, we love you, Nova. Thank you so much. Thank you.”

Your words drew another round of applause as you stumbled back from the mic, your members giggling softly as they patted you all over in encouragement. Jungkook nodded giddily, his grin widening when you glanced in his direction, flashing him one last pretty smile before bowing to the crowd with your sisters.

As soon as your group stepped backstage, the lights, cheers, and noise seemed to fade, replaced by the hum of the crew and the buzz of excitement still lingering in the air. The adrenaline pulsing through your veins was slowly ebbing away, leaving you standing in the midst of it all, clutching the trophy in your hands.

You’d been the only one of your members who hadn’t cried during the acceptance speech. But now, as you stared down at the shiny trophy, the weight of the moment crashed over you in a heavy wave. The reality of it all—the sleepless nights, the endless rehearsals, the doubts and fears you all shared. It hit you square in the chest.

You just won a fucking daesang.

Before you could stop yourself, your shoulders shook and a choky sob escaped from deep in your chest.

Nari was the first to rush to your side, wrapping her arms around your trembling frame, her own eyes red and watery. “Oh, honey…” she whispered, pulling you close. Within seconds, Eunji and Jiyoung were there too, the three of them surrounding you in a tight, protective circle, holding you tightly as your tears fell unchecked.

Jiyoung buried her face in your shoulder, crying softly. Eunji wiped at her eyes with the back of her hand, biting her lip to keep her tears in check, but it was no use. Nari held you even tighter, her lips pressed to your hair as she rocked you gently.

"Thank you so much, Nari-unnie," you managed to whisper through your sobs. Nari shook her head, a teary smile on her face as she gently brushed some stray hair away from your eyes. “I wouldn’t be here without you. Any of you,” you sniffled, glancing between your unnies.

Your members cooed softly, pulling you closer as you giggled through the tears. When they finally pulled back, your face was still damp, but there was a faint smile tugging at your lips. “I can’t believe we did it..” you croaked, shaking your head in disbelief as your eyes flickered down to the award in your hands.

“It still feels unreal,” Eunji agreed with a laugh, her own tears mingling with her smile. “Like, I’m waiting to wake up… I’ve had this dream so many times.”

Jiyoung snickered, wiping her eyes. “Right? If I turn around and see Lee Junho walking toward me shirtless…”

The room erupted into giggles, the tension breaking as your members shoved Jiyoung for her comment. You handed the trophy over to your manager for safekeeping, still laughing as you wiped at your cheeks.

With a gentle nudge from the staff, you were ushered off to tidy up your makeup. It gave you time to calm down, maybe catch your breath, but the excitement still bubbled under your skin. Especially with SHINee’s performance coming up in just a few more categories!!!

When you stepped back from the mirror you thanked your makeup artist, Julie, with a hug and waited for Nari and Eunji to finish up. But as you waited, there came a gentle nudge to your side, and you glanced over to find Jiyoung stifling a giggle.

“Look over there,” she whispered, nodding toward the back of the room.

Your curious eyes followed her gaze, scanning the backstage area until you spotted him—a tall, undeniably handsome guy standing a little away from his group. He seemed calm, focused on a conversation with his manager, but the moment your eyes locked, his expression faltered. His face flushed pink before he immediately looked away all… embarrassed?

You frowned, turning back to Jiyoung. “Stop it,” you whispered, giving her a little swat on the arm.

But you couldn’t help yourself. As your group began moving toward the exit, you stole another glance over your shoulder, and there he was again. This time, his gaze was unmistakably fixed on you, eyes wide and frozen. Not in a creepy way, though. More like a deer caught in headlights.

You hesitated slightly, your group moving ahead without noticing that you had stopped. With a small smile, you turned back toward him and offered a little bow. His reaction was immediate—his eyes widened even more, if that was possible, and he returned the bow so fast you almost worried he’d pull a muscle.

Nari soon noticed you lingering behind and a little frown pulled at her brow, but before she could make a move to fetch you, Jiyoung grabbed her arm. “Leave her,” she whispered with a smirk, tugging Nari back toward the exit.

Meanwhile, you made your way over to the guy. He was definitely an idol, though his name escaped you at the moment. “Are you okay?” you asked gently. “Do you need something?”

His face flushed as he stammered, "I-I’m sorry, no. I just— uh, I love your music. Your group is incredible. I’ve been listening to 'Supernatural' nonstop! Seriously! I was wondering if… if you’re performing tonight?”

“Oh, wow, thank you so much.” Your smile brightened at his sincerity, still not used to receiving compliments like that. “Yeah, we’ll be performing at around nine.”

His shoulders relaxed, and a shy smile crept across his face. “That’s great. I’ll definitely be watching… I’m Jeong Jaehyun, from NCT? We just, um, just debuted recently.”

"Ahh, that’s why you look so familiar!" you exclaimed, recognition lighting up your face. “I saw your debut stage! It was amazing!”

Jaehyun’s ears turned a deep shade of red as he ducked his head. “Ah, thank you so much, wow, that... that means a lot.”

The conversation grew easier after that, his nervousness slowly melting away. His humor naturally peeked through, and you even found out he was a fellow ’97-liner. He was genuine and sweet. Jeonggukkie would love him, you thought.

As Jaehyun fidgeted, his hand subtly patting his pocket as though reaching for something, the sound of footsteps approaching caught your attention.

When you glanced over your shoulder, you smiled as you spotted Jungkook and Taehyung making their way to you guys. Jaehyun’s reaction was almost comical with the way his eyes widened again as he immediately bowed deeply, all stiff and formal. You bit back a laugh as you remembered what it was like to meet your idols for the first time. At least he didn't cry.

Jungkook and Taehyung greeted Jaehyun , their kind demeanour helping him ease up, though he still stumbled over his words every now and then. Especially when Jaehyun managed to make Taehyung laugh. The look of pure joy on his face was so adorable.

After a few minutes of chatting, you glanced toward the stage. “We should get back out there…” you said, nodding toward the performance area. “The next category is coming up soon.”

Jungkook nodded, stepping a little closer to you while Taehyung followed suit. “Yeah, we’ll catch up later,” Jungkook added with a friendly nod toward Jaehyun.

Jaehyun bowed like his life depended on it and smiled handsomely. “Cool! Yeah, absolutely! Have a good performance! Good luck!”

With a wave and a smile, you fell into step beside Jungkook and Taehyung, the three of you heading back toward the guest section. As you walked, you glanced over your shoulder one last time, catching Jaehyun’s lingering gaze. You couldn’t help but laugh softly before turning away.

“You know,” Taehyung started, his voice teasing, “you could’ve just said SHINee is coming up. You didn’t have to say ‘the next category.’”

You rolled your eyes, though the smile tugging at your lips betrayed you. “Shut up,” you mumbled with a little shove. He wasn't wrong.

Meanwhile, Mark, who had been watching the entire exchange from a distance, sidled up to Jaehyun with a teasing smirk. “So, how’d it go?” he asked, nudging his bandmate’s shoulder. “Did you tell her how you’ve been in love with her since you were just a shy little trainee—”

“Shut up,” Jaehyun muttered, his face burning as he shoved his phone back into his pocket, grumbling. “She had to go.”

Mark laughed, watching as Jaehyun’s gaze drifted back toward you for one last fleeting glance before he sighed in quiet defeat.

As you, Jungkook, and Taehyung continued toward the guest section, Taehyung suddenly slowed. “Hold up,” he muttered, glancing between you and Jungkook. “Needa go to the bathroom real quick.”

You smiled, nodding toward the nearby restroom. “Okay. We’ll wait here.”

With a quick nod, Taehyung slipped through the door, leaving you and Jungkook standing alone in the quiet hallway. You leaned back against the wall, the hum of applause from the show pounding through the walls.

Jungkook shifted beside you before leaning in. “So proud of you, jjogi.”

You looked up at him, a wide smile spreading across your face. “Thank you, ttoki,” you replied sweetly, instinctively glancing around the empty hall. “I’m so proud of you too, Mr. Album of the Year.”

His big eyes met yours, a cute grin tugging at his lips. “Thank you, Mrs. Song of the Year,” he shot back, his bunny teeth peeking out as he tilted his head.

Your cheeks heated up, your smile widening as you smoothed over your dress, hands twitching with the desire to pull him into a hug. But you knew better.

With one more quick glance at your surroundings, you leaned in, lifting a hand to the side of your mouth as if whispering a secret. “Love you.”

Jungkook’s eyes crinkled into a smile, his hands mimicking yours as he leaned closer. “I love you more…”

Before you could reply, the bathroom door swung open and Taehyung strolled out, slipping between you and Jungkook with a content grin. “Alright, let’s go.”

As the three of you walked together, a question popped into your mind. “Hey, why were you guys backstage?” you asked, glancing curiously between the two.

Taehyung shrugged, hands tucked in his pockets. “Jeonggukkie needed something.”

Your brow raised as you leaned forward, looking past Taehyung at Jungkook. “Oh? Did you get what you needed?”

He hummed, his gaze shifting toward you with a little smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “Yeah,” he replied simply.

MBC Gayo Daejejeon

The current artists, Lovelyz, were wrapping up their performance, final notes fading as the audience erupted into applause.

The sound echoed all the way down the hall where you and your members stood in a tight semi-circle. There was a buzz in the air, a thick mix of nerves and excitement. A water bottle made its rounds between the four of you, each taking quick sips.

You were up next.

Adjusting the mic taped to your cheek, you exhaled slowly, trying to calm the rush of adrenaline. Your heart was racing, but it wasn’t a bad feeling. It was the kind of thrill that made you feel like you could do anything. You glanced at Jiyoung, who was bouncing on her feet, twisting her hands together.

A teasing smile tugged at your lips. "Unnie—"

Before you could finish, the stage director rushed over, his arms gesturing in wide urgent motions. "Let’s go, girls! You’re next!"

As the four of you reached the stage doors, waiting as they slowly slid open, something clicked inside you. That version of yourself that existed onstage snapped into place like armour, any nerves you might have had completely melting away.

It was almost strange, really, how easily you slipped into this other self. Offstage, you were confident, sure. But onstage, you were something else. The rush was intoxicating, like a drug you craved more than anything.

Your mom had always said you liked attention.

The stadium lights dimmed, casting long, dramatic shadows along the floor as you and your sisters strode toward centre stage. For a second, everything slowed, the noise of the crowd fading into the background.

Then, No More Dream exploded through the speakers, and the crowd roared even louder, the sheer strength of their cries vibrating the ground beneath your feet. You dropped to one knee, taking your position at the front of Nari, with Eunji and Jiyoung flanking her sides.

Just as you were about to launch into the performance, something tugged at the edges of your awareness. A strange sensation, a tightness in your chest. Your brow furrowed ever so slightly.

Huh… You’d never gotten stage fright before.

Not during your first audition, when the judges’ eyes felt like they were burning holes straight through your soul. Not during the grueling trainee days, when one by one, the girls you’d grown close to disappeared, cut from the potential lineup. Not even when your group had teetered on the brink of disbandment, when everything you’d worked for since you were too young to fully understand the true scope of things, dangled by a thread.

The stage had always been your safe space. Nerves were never the enemy. They were fuel, pushing you to be better.

So why now, of all times, did you feel a prickle of sweat forming at the base of your hairline…

In the second row, you caught a glimpse of movement. Jungkook, elbowing Taehyung in the ribs, his face scrunched in annoyance. He was trying to get Taehyung to stop leaning over him to chat with Jin. His lips moved quickly, whining in that way he always did when he was being ignored.

“It’s starting,” Jungkook whined, placing a hand on Taehyung’s chest, trying to push him back into his seat.

They were being so loud. If Jungkook missed even a single second of your performance because of his hyungs, he was going to fucking lose it.

Taehyung finally grumbled something and settled into his seat. Jungkook’s eyes quickly snapped back to the stage, his eyes locking onto yours instantly.

The second your gaze met, a smile tugged at your lips, easing the weird tension you’d felt moments before until it melted away, just like that. You didn’t even think about it—you were just grateful.

“I wanna…”

When you’d first been asked to choose a song to cover for Gayo Daejejeon, your producer had mentioned offhandedly that BTS had picked one of your group’s songs for their performance.

You’d been curious at first, but it wasn’t until later, during a game of Uno, that Jimin had let it slip.

“It was Jeonggukkie’s idea,” he’d said, grinning at you while tossing down a +4 card with wicked delight.

The memory bubbled up now as you transitioned into the next part of the choreo, your mind flicking back to the way Jungkook had pouted when you’d teased him about his suggestion during movie night in his room.

“If you keep teasing me, I’ll ask them to change it,” he grumbled, pouting in that way only he could.

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry,” you relented, giggling. “We could... cover one of your songs too?”

His pout vanished instantly, replaced by an excited grin that lit up his entire face. “Deal!” he said, practically bouncing on the bed. Then, he quickly added, "but you have to do my lines, though."

You groaned dramatically, playfully pushing out your bottom lip in protest. “But I wanted to do Namjoonie-oppa’s part…”

The memory of him yanking the blanket over his head like a sulking bunny still made you smile. He’d curled up into a ball on his bed, refusing to come out until you’d given in and cuddled him for the rest of the movie.

Dramatic didn’t even begin to cover it.

And now, here you were, on stage, trying to bite back that same laugh as you rose from behind Nari as she finished RM's line. You brought the mic to your lips, your free hand running through your hair in the way Jungkook had taught you.

"Arasseo… eomma jigeum dokseosil gandanikka?"

"Yahhh!" Jungkook’s giddy cheer was muffled by his hand covering his mouth.

He was trying, and failing, not to react too enthusiastically. His grin was wide behind his fingers, eyes glued to you as you moved across the stage.

"She’s literally a female Jeonggukkie," Taehyung laughed, nudging the youngest with his elbow.

The rest of BTS nodded in agreement, expressions a mixture of amusement and admiration as they watched you copy Jungkook’s mannerisms with scary accuracy.

Jungkook’s mouth twitched, trying to hold back a bigger smile at Tae’s comment, but his eyes never left you. He watched intently as you slinked back to the center after Eunji’s verse.

"Ah, she’s doing Kookie’s rap?" Jin leaned in, eyebrows raised in intrigue.

"Mhm," Jimin confirmed with a nod, his fingers drumming against his knees. "She can rap well."

Jungkook let out a soft, dreamy sigh, leaning back in his seat. “She can do everything well,” he mumbled, not even trying to hide the affection in his voice.

His hyungs groaned in unison, the sound almost drowning out the cheers from the crowd. Rolling their eyes at the lovesick tone in his voice, they shook their heads and shoved playfully at the maknae.

Jungkook just giggled with an unashamed shrug.

Jiyoung was the first to break the post-performance haze as you slipped through the backstage curtain. "God, that choreo is so fucked," she groaned, running a hand through her sweat drenched hair.

"I know," you laughed, brushing a stray piece of hair from her face as you glanced down at her legs. "How are your knees?"

Jiyoung gave your hair a ruffle as you worriedly rubbed her kneecaps through the fabric of her jeans. "They’re fine, honey. Like I was going to ruin my fit with a pair of ugly kneepads."

You snickered, rolling your eyes. "Priorities..." you teased, giving her legs one last pat before straightening up. "You guys thirsty? I can grab drinks."

But before you could move, you noticed your members exchanging sly, knowing glances.

"That’s okay, we’ll get our own drinks," Jiyoung said with a little smirk. Eunji giggled, elbowing her lightly as they began to walk away.

"Huh—" You didn’t quite get a chance to question them.

Nari flashed you a soft smile as she linked arms with the other two. "We’ll be at the monitors," she called over her shoulder, leaving you standing there—confused and suddenly alone.

That confusion quickly melted away when you turned around, finding yourself face to face with your favorite pair of big, boba eyes.

“Oh, hi, ttoki,” you smiled.

"Hi," he echoed, flashing you a pretty grin as he held out a cold bottle of water toward you.

Before you could take the bottle from his grasp, Jungkook’s hand gently caught your outstretched one, pulling you in with one quick motion. Laughter bubbled up in your chest as you stumbled into him, his arms wrapping around your waist like they belonged there and only there.

Jungkook sighed softly, his body relaxing as he pulled you closer, your arms naturally finding their way around his neck. The moment was so familiar, so easy, that you didn't even look around you to see if anybody could see you.

“You did so well,” he mumbled into your skin, his breath warm against your neck.

“Thank you,” you smiled, the tickle of his breath making your shoulder lift involuntarily.

You tried to balance the cold bottle now in your hand, careful not to press it against him. Jungkook noticed, his nose crinkling as he gave your sides one last gentle squeeze before relunctantly pulling away.

As he stepped back, he blinked a few times, trying to refocus. His gaze had wandered, caught on the curve of your smile, the way it always made his heart do that thing.

His eyes trailed over you, watching as you unscrewed the cap of the water bottle, your body naturally leaning toward him.

But then, you paused, frowning down at the bottle in your hand, and the hairs on the back of his neck prickled.

“What’s wrong?” Jungkook asked, his brows furrowing as he leaned in closer.

“My water...” you pouted, turning the bottle over in your hands.

"Huh? What about it?” Jungkook’s hands shot out to inspect the bottle. He had just taken a sip earlier, and it was fine?

“There’s some missing…” you said, your pout deepening.

His face fell instantly. "Oh… yeah, I had a drink. Sorry. I’ll go get you a fresh one—"

But before he could finish, your soft giggle cut through his panic, and you unscrewed the cap, taking a big gulp. You shrugged playfully. "I’m kidding, ttoki. Unless… you have cooties?"

Jungkook forced out a laugh, but it came out dry. Unlike the droplet of water that slipped past your lips and trailed slowly down the curve of your fucking neck. His gaze followed it unbiddenly as it disappeared beneath the neckline of your cropped t-shirt.

“Jeonggukkie?”

His head jerked up. "Hm?"

“I asked when you guys are going up?” you repeated gently, tilting your head in that adorable, curious way you did—like a puppy waiting for a response.

Jungkook blinked, pulling his thoughts together. “Two more acts, jjogi,” he said softly.

You nodded, satisfied, flashing him that pretty smile—the one where your eyes crinkle just slightly, your nose scrunches up, and he can see your dimple peeking through.

So pretty, he groaned inwardly. He could write a fucking song about it.

Without a word, you quickly scoped your surroundings before reaching out and slipping your hand into his. Jungkook’s fingers reacted faster than his brain, linking with yours like second nature. You tugged him forward, weaving through the bare backstage area.

For a moment, Jungkook wondered where you were taking him. To the monitors where he saw your unnies heading? To the guest section, so you could experience SHINee’s performance from the best possible view?

His mind wandered briefly, curiously.

But then again, it didn’t really matter, did it? His inner voice snarked.

He’d follow you anywhere.

“What’d ya think?” Jungkook’s voice caught you off guard, his grin wide as you yelped in surprise.

Your phone almost slipped from your hand as you spun around with wide eyes. "It was so good, ttoki," you replied, trying to catch your breath. You gave him a smile, the initial shock fading. “As always.”

Jungkook’s grin widened, very pleased by your words. As he stepped closer with his arms outstretched and ready to pull you into a hug, you took a small step back. He frowned.

“You okay, jjogi?”

“Mhm,” you nodded, holding your phone tightly in front of you. Your eyes flickered around the room, and Jungkook followed your gaze, his brows pulling together.

"What?" he asked, voice low with uncertainty.

“There's a couple people,” you murmured quietly, like it should’ve been obvious.

Jungkook blinked, his frown deepening. "They're just staff…"

Your phone buzzed, and instantly, your thumb slid to the mute button to silence it. Jungkook noticed but didn’t say anything. He just waited, watching as you slipped your phone into the back pocket of your jeans.

“Ttoki, we can’t, you know…�� you trailed off, your head tilting to one side like you were waiting for him to understand.

But he didn’t.

“We can’t… what?” he asked, the confusion in his voice almost making you laugh.

With a soft shake of your head, you reached for his hand, wrapping your fingers around his as you started to lead him through the crowd of people backstage. He followed without hesitation, his fingers curling around yours as he kept quiet.

When you reached the double doors separating backstage from the dressing room hallway, you pushed them open, sliding through with Jungkook right behind you. His hand found yours again, fingers slipping easily into place as you walked.

“Can’t what, jjogi?” he asked again, his steps slowing as he tugged lightly at your hand.

In the distance, Jin’s windshield wiper laugh grew louder as you approached his dressing room. Jungkook’s footsteps dragged. He didn't want to get there just yet.

“Hug in public,” youclarified simply, swinging your linked hands between you.

Jungkook’s brows furrowed. "Was barely anyone back there.. And it’s just a quick hug," he said, looking down at your entwined fingers. "We hold hands in public."

“Yeah, but holding hands can be interpreted as friendly, I guess,” you shrugged, your pace slowing as Jungkook’s did, both of you nearly crawling down the hall now.

“A hug really can’t be interpreted as friendly?” he asked quietly.

“A hug can,” you nodded, glancing up at him with a cute smile. “But your hugs? Not so much.”

At that, he pouted. Like, full-on Jeon Jeongguk power-pouted.

You giggled, the sound quiet in the empty hallway, before resting your head against his arm. “Ttoki, it’s not a bad thing. I love your hugs,” you reassured him, your hand gently rubbing his bare arm. “But I don't know those staff members enough to trust them… and if we got dragged into heat over you just looking at me, I can’t imagine what a picture of us hugging would do.”

Jungkook sighed, his head dipping. “You mean you got dragged into heat, not me,” he grumbled.

You lifted your head to meet his eyes, your brows knitting together. “Stop that. You got backlash too—”

“Not like you did,” he cut in. “And it was my fault.”

You let out a soft sigh, rubbing his arm again, trying to soothe the weight he carried. “Ttoki, I don’t care what people say about us. They don’t know us. I just don’t want stupid rumors to hurt our groups, that's all.”

Jungkook’s thumb brushed across the back of your hand. “I know, jjogi,” he murmured, guilt lacing his words. “I’m so sorry.”

You pressed a quick kiss to his arm, hoping to end the topic once and for all. “You’ve apologized a hundred times, and I’ve growled you a hundred times, ttoki. It's okay. Okay?”

Jungkook’s eyes softened as you stopped in front of the bathroom door. He tilted his head, watching you curiously as you pulled away.

“I need to pee,” you explained with a grin. “I’ll meet you in the dressing room, ‘kay?”

He shook his head slightly, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. "I’ll wait here."

You paused, your hand resting on the doorknob, an amused smile tugging at your lips. “Jeonggukkie, it’s fine,” you said with a quiet laugh. “The girls are in there too. Probably figuring out what we’re doing for dinner.”

“I know,” he replied easily. His eyes stayed fixed on yours, his stance shifting to a more comfortable position against the wall. “I’ll wait. What if you get kidnapped or something?”

“Aish,” you snorted, reaching up to brush a stray strand of hair from his eyes. “Okay, but if someone sees you hanging around outside the girls’ bathroom like a creep…”

“Yahh,” he chuckled, jerking his head toward the door. “Just go. Hurry up.”

Your laughter lingered in his ears as you disappeared into the restroom.

A few minutes later, as you pressed the foot pedal of the trash can to toss the paper towel, you heard the faint sound of Jungkook’s voice outside the bathroom.

“Sorry, ttoki, I couldn’t hear you properly. What did you sa—” you called out as you tried to open the door, but it stopped halfway, hitting something on the other side.

“Oops, sorry!” a soft, feminine voice giggled from the other side, stepping back to let you through.

“Shit, are you okay?” you asked, quickly slipping through the gap, hands hovering near her arms in concern.

“I’m fine!” she squeaked, bowing quickly in apology.

You let out a relieved sigh and mirrored her gesture. "Are you sur—"

"Of course! I was the one in your way—" she began, her words trailing off as her eyes lit up in sudden recognition. “Wah, Jang Y/N-seonbaenim? I’m such a huge fan! I’m Lee Mijoo.”

"Wow, thank you so much,” you smiled, cupping her outstretched hand between both of yours. “Lee Mijoo… Oh woah, you’re in Lovelyz! My members and I were just listening to your performance. It was amazing.”

Her wide eyes sparkled, her voice a little breathless as she replied, “R-really? Thank you so much! Ah, they're going to freak out when I tell them about this..."

Your cheeks flushed as you laughed softly, giving her hand a gentle squeeze before letting go. Jungkook watched the interaction, lips pressed together as he tried not to smile. You were so cute.

“Okay, I really better go, I think I’m holding up dinner…” You laughed again, giving Mijoo a final bow, which she eagerly returned. “It was nice to meet you, and I’m sorry again. I hope you’re okay.”

“I’m fine, really! Thank you so much. Have a great dinner!” Mijoo smiled brightly, and you returned it, stepping back.

As your gaze shifted to Jungkook, you noticed his eyes were already on Mijoo. She had turned back toward him, continuing their conversation as if no time had passed.

You watched, breath catching for a moment as her hand lightly brushed against his chest.

Jungkook’s ears, already tinted red from his usual shyness, deepened in color. And there it was—his stupid bunny smile. The one you knew so well. Right there on his pouty lips as he looked down at her.

A strange pang settled in your chest, sharp but soft, as if you’d swallowed something too big and it was lodged somewhere just behind your heart. You pushed it down quickly before turning quietly and heading toward the dressing room where your friends were waiting.

Behind you, Mijoo’s soft giggles lingered in the hallway, the sound trailing after you like a taunting echo.

Fifteen minutes later, you found yourself bundled up in the jacket Taehyung had handed you when he noticed your thin coat not doing much to stop your shivering. You sat quietly on a stool while Nari stood behind you, her fingers gently combing through your hair.

"You alright, honey?" she asked softly, her hands sliding from your hair to rest on your shoulders, giving them a squeeze.

“Hm?" You blinked, snapping out of the daze you had drifted into, your gaze distant. Adjusting the coat draped around your shoulders, you looked up at her. "Yeah, I’m okay, unnie."

Nari nodded, though not fully convinced. She knew you well enough to recognize when something was off. Still, she didn’t press, trusting that if you needed her, you’d speak up. "You hungry?" she asked, her tone gentle.

“Mhm,” you hummed, leaning back into her embrace as her arms wrapped around you. “Are we going to eat now?”

“We’re supposed to be,” Taehyung grumbled from where he sat next to Jimin on the couch, his eyes flicking up from his phone. "We’re just waiting for Jeonggukkie. Where is he, Y/N-ssi? Thought he was with you?"

Before you could answer, the door swung open, and in walked the man of the hour—cheeks flushed, eyes slightly hooded. You swallowed down the bitter taste creeping up your throat.

A collective groan of satisfaction rippled through the room as Jungkook stepped inside, flashing an apologetic smile while dodging playful shoves from his hyungs. His gaze swept over the room, eyes settling on you almost instantly.

"Alright, let’s go," Namjoon called, standing to gather his things. The others followed suit, moving to grab their clothes and bags.

You stayed quiet, watching as Jungkook navigated around Namjoon and started heading your way. Quickly slipping your arms into the sleeves of Taehyung’s jacket, you adjusted it so it wasn’t hanging loosely on your shoulders before turning to Nari. “Unnie, can we go, please?”

Nari’s brows knitted slightly at the urgency in your voice, but she nodded, grabbing her purse and coat before holding out her hand to you. You snatched your phone off the bench, linking your arm with hers, practically hugging her side as she gently ushered your other members to grab their things.

Jiyoung and Eunji moved like fucking snails, lazily climbing off the loveseat, and it took every ounce of restraint not to stomp your foot in frustration. You could feel Jungkook’s presence drawing closer, the familiar scent of his cologne wrapping around you, tightening like an invisible net.

Nari felt the change in your posture.She glanced down at your face, then over your shoulder, her gaze landing on Jungkook as he approached. She looked back and forth between the two of you, then at Jiyoung and Eunji who were still taking their sweet time. With a quiet sigh, she let go of your arm.

Your eyes snapped to hers in panic. You opened your mouth to protest, but the firm look she gave you stopped you in your tracks, making your lips press together in a pout. She stepped away, and your shoulders sagged in defeat. You didn’t have much of a choice anymore—you’d have to talk to him.

You didn’t really have a reason to avoid Jungkook. Nothing you could explain out loud, at least. You just… didn’t feel like it right now.

But when you turned, bracing yourself to face him, relief flooded through you at the sight of Nari intercepting his path.

You exhaled, grabbing the arms of your other two members—who had finally gathered their things—ignoring their teasing laughs as you dragged them out of the dressing room.

“Hey, Jungkook-ssi,” Nari greeted, offering the younger boy a warm smile as he slowed to a stop.

“Hi, noona—oh, Y/N-yah, hey, wait—” Jungkook’s voice trailed off as he watched you hurriedly slip out of the room with Eunji and Jiyoung, leaving only him and your leader behind. “Ah, she must not have heard you,” Nari said with a soft sigh, patting his back as she gently steered him toward the door. “Come on, let’s go have some dinner.”

You had only just stepped out of the bathroom, steam billowing behind you as the door clicked shut.

The scent of spices from the kitchen floated down the hallway, mixing with the lingering warmth of your shower. You hugged the towel you’d used on your hair to your chest, eyes half-lidded with the weight of exhaustion pulling at your limbs.

Just as you began to head for your dorm, footsteps echoed behind you, drawing your attention. You glanced over your shoulder to see Jungkook walking toward you, his smile soft, eyes raking over you familiar way he does. Your hair was still damp, falling over your shoulders, and the t-shirt and sweatpants you were wearing clung comfortably to your skin.

"Hi," he greeted, his voice low, still warm from the kitchen heat. He gave you a once-over, smile widening at the sight of you looking so cozy. "Dinner’s almost ready. Couch or floor?"

Your head tilted as you thought. It was always one or the other, the two of you eating dinner together with the group, perched either on the couch or sitting cross-legged on the floor.

But the image of him asking Lee Mijoo that same question nagged at the back of your mind, a thought you shoved down before it could fester.

"Couch," you answered quietly.

Jungkook nodded, about to turn back toward the living room when he noticed it. Something about the way you stood, or maybe it was your shoulders… they were just a little off. Not something most people would pick up on, but then again, most people weren’t irrevocably in love with you.

"You alright, jjogi?" he asked, voice softer now.

"Uh-huh," you replied with a small smile, turning away before he could ask anything else. "I’ll be out in a sec."

"O—" Jungkook started, but the door to your dorm clicked shut before he could finish. He stood there for a second longer, staring at the closed door, muttering the rest to himself. "-kay."

A few minutes later, Jungkook was back in the living room, adjusting the cushions on the couch when he heard footsteps approaching. "Move, hyung," he grumbled at Jimin, nudging him sharply to get him to scoot over to the left side of the couch instead of sitting smack-bang in the middle.

"Yah!" Jimin laughed, swatting at him. "You’re not the only one who wants to sit next to Y/N-ssi, you know—"

"Shut up," Jungkook shot back, easily overpowering him and forcing him to slide over.

Jungkook planted himself stubbornly in the middle with a huff. He had planned on giving you the middle seat, letting Jimin sit next to you too. But now, Jimin gets nothing.

"Aish, you little—" Jimin shook his head, laughing, just as you wandered into the room.

You had socks and a little zip-up jacket on now, and Jungkook's eyes immediately flicked to the air conditioning meter on the wall. It's warm already.

Maybe you're getting sick, he thought. Ah, that must be why you seemed a little off earlier.

The long coffee table was covered in a spread of food, and your stomach growled in response as you flopped down next to Jungkook. His arm immediately reached out, grabbing an empty bowl and glancing back at you. He pointed at the pot of kimchi-jjigae, a silent question on his lips. It was your favorite, and he already knew you’d want it, but he asked anyway.

You nodded with a small smile, pulling your legs up and crossing them beneath you. Your sock-covered foot pressed against his thigh while his gaze lingered for a second, eyes flickering over your face before he nodded. Turning back to the table, he scooped some rice into the bowl, then topped it with the steaming stew. He grabbed a spoon and handed the bowl to you, careful not to let it spill.

"Thank you," you murmured, giving him a quiet smile before mouthing, 'ttoki'.

Jungkook bit back a laugh, knowing you only whispered it because his brothers loved teasing him whenever you called him that in front of them. He didn’t care. He’d told you that a thousand times, but you still didn't want them to tease him.

Jungkook leaned forward to grab his own bowl when Jimin poked his arm. "Jeonggukkie, can you dish me a bowl too, please?"

"Do it yourself," Jungkook grumbled, scooping his own portion of stew.

"Ttoki!" you gasped in shock, laughing as you nudged him with your foot. "Don’t be rude."

"Yeah, ttoki," Taehyung chimed in from his spot on the floor, snickering with Jiyoung as they dug into their food. "Don’t be rude."

Jungkook’s eyes went wide as he looked at you, and you just tilted your head innocently. He sighed, lips pulling to the side in a begrudging frown as he scooped some of the stew into a bowl for Jimin. He grabbed a spoon and clanked it into the bowl a little aggressively before thrusting it toward Jimin.

"Thank you, ttoki," Jimin cooed, accepting the bowl with a sickeningly sweet smile. "And be a darling bunny and pass me a couple of dumpl—"

You placed your hand on Jungkook’s arm, holding him back just as he lunged at Jimin, ready to tackle him into the back of the couch.

Dinner was amazing.

You only had one bowl, and though you could've easily finished another, maybe two, you stopped yourself. Practice was early tomorrow, and you knew better than to overeat and feel sick or sluggish. Jungkook, however, kept trying to slip you dumplings or a bread roll whenever he saw the empty bowl in your lap.

You just shook your head, smiling, settling deeper into the couch. He wasn’t thrilled, but when you rested your head on his arm, he relaxed a bit, quietly going back to his second serving.

Now, the cold night air nipped at your neck, sharp against your skin as you sat against the rough brick wall outside the building. The gravel dug into your sweatpants, uncomfortable but not unbearable. You adjusted the phone in your hand as your mother’s concerned voice filled the quiet night.

“Have you been eating well?” she asked, her tone halfway between worried and accusatory. “You’re looking a bit thin, gongju.”

You smiled softly, tilting your head as you rested your chin on your knees. “Yes, eomma. I just had a nice dinner,” you reassured her. “I had the flu, remember? Took a while to get back to normal, but I’m fine now.”

Your mom sighed, the sound crackling through the video call. “Mm. I’ll send some extra choco pies in my next package, just in case—”

“Don’t, please,” you laughed, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. "I can’t eat those right now, eomma. I’m—”

But your words were cut off by the rise of her familiar Daegu accent, sharp with concern. She launched into a tirade about “dangerous diets” and “ending up in the hospital.”

You winced, a soft smile tugging at your lips as you cut in, “It’s not a bad diet, eomma. It’s a healthy one. I’m just taking better care of myself… something I haven’t done in a while." You laughed lightly, your gaze dropping to the gravel at your feet.

Her sigh came softer this time, a little more accepting. "Well, I'm glad to hear that." A pause lingered between you, then her voice softened again. "You look happy, my gongju. You’re so beautiful when you’re happy."

“Thanks, eomma,” you murmured, your smile widening. "I am happy." You nodded before adding, "You look good too. I like your haircut."

Your mother’s hand automatically went to her hair, fingers combing through the strands of her shoulder-length bob. “Ah, yes. My friend Dong-wook did it, free of charge,” she said with a sly smile. “You remember him, right? The hair stylist I told you about?”

“Mmhm," you hummed knowingly, teasing. “Free of charge, huh?”

She narrowed her eyes. "Don’t start that, Y/N,” she scolded lightly, but you could see her lips curving into a playful smile. “Men and women can be just friends.”

You blinked, holding back the laugh bubbling up in your chest. “Right.”

She gave you a pointed look before finally breaking into a full smile, her eyes crinkling at the corners. “Isn’t that right, gongju?”

“Eomma,” you warned, shifting your position against the wall.

Your mom was one of the few people you trusted with everything. One of the few who had always supported your dreams, no matter how crazy or far-fetched they seemed. But in moments like this, you almost regretted how much she knew.

“I’m just saying,” she pressed on, “I’m not getting any younger, gongju… and I want to see you happy. With someone who cares about yo—” “Eomma,” you interrupted, laughing softly, “You’re only forty-three. And I’m nineteen. I have plenty of time for all of that...” “You do,” she agreed, her voice dipping into a knowing hum. “But why wait when you have everything you need right in front of you?”

You let out a short, exasperated laugh. “Subject change, please,” you muttered, trying to steer the conversation in a safer direction.

But your mom wasn’t done. “Ah, you’re so focused on your career, darling, and that’s good! But don’t forget that you can still enjoy life… and love.” She gave you that endearing look, the one that made you feel like a child all over again. “You can have both.”

You sighed with a chuckle, resting your chin on your knees again. “Eomma, shouldn’t you be telling me to focus on my career? Not to do drugs or run around chasing boys?”

She laughed, a warm, rich sound that made your chest ache with homesickness. “Ah, gongju. First of all, I know you’d never do drugs. You’re too much of a gongju for that.” You gasped in mock offense, but she just chuckled. “And as for boys… Honey, you just have to stand in place. He’s the one doing all the running.”

“Eomma,” you groaned, pressing your head against your knees as her sweet laugh echoed through the phone.

“Well, am I wrong?” she teased, and you could practically see the arch of her brow. “He looks at you like you hung every star in the sky. It’s just so adorab—”

“Stop it,” you whined, hiding your face further. “Guys and girls can be just friends, okay? Just like you and Dong-wook.”

“Ahhh, I see. Well, if you and Jeongguk-ssi are those kinds of friends,” she said with a mischievous lilt, “then I have nothing to worry about.”

“Eomma!” You nearly screamed, a hand flying to your face. “Please, I just ate. Don’t make me throw it all up.”

Her laughter bubbled up again, and despite your frustration, you found yourself smiling. “Okay, okay, gongju. I’ll stop.” A brief pause followed before her eyes shifted. “Oh, Jeongguk-ah! Hello, sweetie! How are you?”

Peeking around the corner of the wall, you saw Jungkook approaching, hands tucked into his pockets, his bunny smile lighting up as soon as he saw your mom.

“Hi, eomma,” he waved, plopping down next to you. You scooted over, making room for him as he took the phone from your hands. “I’m well, and you? Wah, I love your haircut.”

You leaned into him, resting your head on his shoulder as your arm linked through his, letting their conversation wash over you. The warmth of his hoodie against your cheek and the gentle rumble of his voice made your eyelids feel heavier. You hadn’t even realized how tired you were.

As your breathing slowed, Jungkook’s voice grew quieter, the volume on your phone clicking down softly three times. You didn’t notice him reach over to pull the zipper of your jacket up properly. But your mom did.

“One second, eomma,” Jungkook said, his voice soft as he turned the phone away. The faint sound of the zipper echoed before he brought the phone back. “Sorry about that. So, what did Minho-hyung do next?”

Your mom smiled, her eyes catching the sight of your peaceful face, now bundled up against Jungkook’s side, your cheek pressed to his arm as you slept.

“Ah, yes, where was I?” she murmured, a fond smile on her lips as she continued her story.

Mothers know best.

The soft glow of the TV illuminated the living room as Toy Story 2 played its final scenes.

The house had long since quieted—everyone else had already gone to bed after the first movie. But you and Jungkook remained, curled up on the couch, a cozy blanket draped over your legs.

It was late. You had practice at 9am, and Jungkook had a full day of promotions ahead, but neither of you moved.

As the credits began to roll, Jungkook shifted beside you, his voice low and thick with sleep. “Wanna watch the third one?”

You glanced up at him, taking in the way his eyelids drooped, the way his head barely held itself up. “Aren’t you sleepy?” you asked softly.

He nodded, but the movement was languid. “A little..” he mumbled, though even he knew the truth was written all over his face.

Jungkook had been up since 5am, and his exhaustion was obvious, but there was no way he was going to be the one to end the night. Not when he was here, wrapped up in a cozy fucking blanket with you, watching one of his favorite movies.

“Last one,” he added, more to himself than to you, as if convincing his body to stay awake just a little longer.

You smiled softly, nodding as he stood up, gathering the empty popcorn bowl. He stretched, a yawn slipping from his lips before he bent to grab your water bottle from the coffee table. He gave it a small shake, noticing it was nearly empty, and tucked it under his arm. “Be back in a sec,” he murmured, his steps slow as he disappeared into the kitchen.

You watched him go, warmth filling your chest as you reached for the remote. You began typing Toy Story 3 into the search bar when Jungkook’s phone buzzed on the coffee table.

Your fingers hesitated over the remote for a split second, your eyes drifting to the lit-up screen. You quickly shook off the urge to look, refocusing on the TV as you continued your search. The letters appeared slowly on the screen, but the phone buzzed again, pulling your attention back.

You tried to ignore it. Really… you did. You forced yourself to focus on the title in front of you, but it wasn't long until another buzz echoed through the room.

You pressed your lips into a thin line. Alright, Mr. Popular, you thought, lips curving in a humourless smile as you clicked on the movie, pausing it while it loaded to wait for Jungkook.

The quiet around you felt heavier than it should’ve. The only sounds were the soft hum of the microwave and the trickle of water from the kitchen as Jungkook filled your bottle. Your eyes flicked to his phone again, resting innocently on the table.

You didn’t know why you did it.

Maybe it was curiosity. Maybe it was something else. But your hand moved of its own accord, fingertips brushing the screen and watching as it lit up.

His notifications flashed before your eyes—Instagram, Clash of Clans, (1) text from Eomma, (3) text from Unknown.

Before you could stop yourself, your fingers were already typing in his passcode.

Unknown [11:48 PM] hey jungkook! sorry i hope this doesn't wake youㅋㅋ [11:48 PM] it's me, lee mijoo!! [11:49 PM] just let me know when you wanted to meet up :) 💖

A rush of heat spread through your chest, your fingers freezing over the screen before you scrambled to lock the phone. Your breath was shaky as you placed it back on the table, the blanket that had been so warm moments ago now felt suffocating, too heavy, too much.

You tried to steady your thoughts, shifting uncomfortably on the couch as you heard Jungkook returning. He plopped down beside you with a soft grunt, his arm brushing yours as he held out the water bottle. “Did you want some?”

You just shook your head, unable to find your voice. Jungkook gave a small nod, setting the bottle on the table as he checked his phone briefly.

You watched out of the corner of your eye, your stomach twisting as his thumb hovered over the notifications. He swiped through them casually, not even bothering to read the messages before setting the phone back down, oblivious.

Jungkook settled back into the couch, adjusting the popcorn bowl on his lap as he reached out to wrap an arm around your shoulders like he always did. But this time, you leaned forward quickly, grabbing the remote before he could touch you. His arm hovered for a second, confused, before dropping limply to his side.

His brows furrowed slightly, but he waited, watching as you pressed play on the movie. When you leaned back, his arm instinctively moved again, grazing your shoulder, but you shifted once more, pulling away.

This time, he knew it wasn’t an accident.

“Jjogi?” he asked, his voice tinged with confusion. “Is everything okay?”

You nodded, lips pressed tightly together, your gaze fixed on the screen. “Yeah,” you murmured, watching as Woody chased after One-Eyed Betty.

Jungkook frowned, concern etched into his features. His stomach knotted as he shoved a few kernels of popcorn into his mouth, chewing slowly as he tried to figure out what was wrong.

He couldn’t shake the feeling that you were upset. That he had done something.

So he set the bowl on the coffee table, turning toward you. “Are you too tired? We don’t have to keep watching if you want to sleep.”

“I’m not tired,” you replied, your tone clipped.

You weren’t lying—you didn’t feel tired anymore. But you weren’t exactly sure what you felt, either. All you knew was that you didn’t like it.

“Did I…do something?” he asked hesitantly, his heart sinking as he searched your face.

“No.” The word came out flat, your eyes never leaving the screen.

“Are you hungry? I could—”

“God, Jeongguk, would you just stop?” you snapped, cutting him off. “I said I’m fine. Just watch the movie.”

He flinched, swallowing hard at the sharpness in your voice.

Jeongguk? You were pissed.

But he had no idea why.

“Jjogi—” he started again, but before he could finish, you tossed the blanket off your legs and stood up abruptly. His eyes widened as he watched you stomp away.

In your haste, your leg hit the edge of the coffee table, knocking your water bottle over and sending his phone tumbling to the floor. Jungkook leaned forward immediately, grabbing the bottle and standing it upright before scooping up his phone.

“Jjogi,” he called softly, trailing after you as you walked toward your room.

“Just go away, Jeongguk,” you muttered, your voice low and tired.

“Please, jjogi,” he pleaded, his steps quickening to catch up. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong,” you sighed, still walking. “I just want to be alone.”

“All of a sudden?” His frown deepened, frustration creeping into his voice. “Please, just talk to me.”

You stopped abruptly, spinning around to face him. "Why don’t you just go talk to Mijoo?"

Jungkook froze, his brows knitting together in genuine confusion. "Mijoo?" he echoed, the name foreign on his lips, as though he had to drag it out of the depths of his mind. "What… what are you talking about?"

Mijoo? Lee Mijoo? The conversation they’d had with her earlier replayed in his mind, but nothing about it stood out. Had she said something to upset you? No way. He would’ve noticed.

“Okay, I really better go. I think I’m holding up dinner…” you’d said with a light laugh as you tried to make your exit. Jungkook had nodded absentmindedly, his stomach grumbling as he prepared to part ways with Mijoo and follow you. “It was so nice to meet you, and I’m sorry again. I hope you’re okay.”

“I’m fine, really, thank you so much. Have a good dinner!” Mijoo had smiled, her face bright and friendly.

Jungkook had smiled politely in return, already about to bow and follow after you, when Mijoo’s hand brushed lightly against him. “Wow, so you’re really a ‘97-liner? Gah, so talented…”

He’d felt the heat creeping up his neck, a blush rising as he shook his head. “Ahh, thank you.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw you turning to leave, your figure retreating down the hall and disappearing into the doorway of the dressing room without so much as a glance back at him. His heart sank.

“Ah, I better—” he’d started, ready to go after you.

But Mijoo’s soft, hopeful voice interrupted him. “Would it be too forward of me to ask for your number? I really enjoyed talking to you, and would love to do it again sometime? Maybe we could…”

Jungkook didn't hear the rest of her words, his eyes darting back toward the now-empty hallway where you had disappeared. A dull ache settled in his chest.

He barely registered Mijoo’s outstretched phone, his hand moving automatically to take it. He forced a smile, fingers trembling slightly as he typed his number into the device. But his heart wasn’t in it.

Obviously, his subconscious mocked. Because it belongs to her.

i’ll reblog with my taglist tmrw, i’m about to get taken by the sleepy police..😞 love youu 💗💤

271 notes · View notes

certaimromance · 2 days ago

Text

𝜗𝜚 The Girl Next Door.

Spencer Reid x Neighbor!reader

series masterlist

Summary: If Spencer thought being secretly in love with you was hard, having to avoid you in the hallway was even worse.

Words: 4,8k.

Warnings & Tags: mention of jail. painter!reader. post prison reid. spencer’s pov. lack of communication. the reader has a cat. angst, so much angst. this is part of a series, check the masterlist to make sure you are in the correct chapter. english isn't my first language (sorry for my mistakes, be kind please).

Note: I struggled a lot writing this because it's a roller coaster, so sorry in advance.

“How long? It's not a problem to take care of everything, but I'd like to know if you'll be okay or—” Your voice almost cracked for a moment, your eyes still trying to adjust to the sunlight streaming in through the bedroom window. Spencer's sheets were still wrapped around your body, and you felt so connected to them that the thought of getting up while still watching him toss and turn looking for his shoes was too much.

“I don't think more than a day or two, I'll be fine.” He stopped his chaotic steps for a second and stared at you as if to make a promise. He paused, glancing away as if to compose himself before adding, “I have some work in Mexico. It came up last minute, or I’d have told you earlier.” His voice faltered, almost imperceptibly, and the words sounded rehearsed, like he was repeating something he’d practiced.

You frowned slightly, confusion flickering across your face. “Work in Mexico?” you echoed. “Since when do they send you out of the country for cases?”

“It’s not that kind of work,” he said quickly, his tone just a little too smooth, a little too practiced. “It’s…consulting. A conference on forensic advancements, some behavioral workshops—things like that.” He kept his gaze on the floor as he spoke, as if afraid to meet your eyes. “I won’t be gone long.”

You didn’t question him further. Why would you? Spencer wasn’t the type to lie, and the way his brows knit together, the way his voice softened with the promise, “I’ll be back soon,” made you believe him. But something about the way he shifted his weight, the way he avoided looking directly at you, left a faint unease in your chest.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t have dinner with you yesterday. And breakfast now. I’ll make it up to you when I get back,” he added, his words tumbling out in a rush, as if trying to fill the silence.

You tightened the sheets around yourself, curling into their warmth, feeling the lingering heat from the side of the bed where he had been only moments before. It felt like he had never really left, the space around you still filled with the faint echo of his presence. Watching him now, his movements a little frantic, his gaze flickering toward the clock every so often, made you feel like he was slipping away too quickly. A part of you, small and selfish, wanted to ask him to stay. To sit back down, to let the world and his trip wait just a little longer.

But the words wouldn’t come. Instead, you whispered, barely above a breath, as if afraid to disturb the fragile moment, “Promise?”

Spencer’s gaze softened even further, a tenderness washing over his features as he moved closer to you. His lips curled into a faint smile, one that didn’t quite touch his eyes but was filled with something that made your chest tighten. “Promise,” he replied, his voice firm but gentle, as though sealing a pact between the two of you. He leaned down, his warm breath brushing your forehead before his lips followed, pressing a soft, lingering kiss against your skin. The kiss was tender, quiet, and almost reluctant, as though he didn’t want to pull away from this moment either. For a moment, his forehead rested against yours, the space between you vanishing entirely. It felt like the world had narrowed to just this—just the two of you—and all the invisible lines you had drawn between friendship and something more blurred into nothing.

But before you could do something stupid, he pulled back, with his eyes lingering on you, still filled with a softness that made your heart flutter. “Have you seen my shoe?” he asked, his voice playful yet tinged with the usual frustration of his misplaced belongings.

You let out a small laugh, still wrapped in the sheets, the warmth from them mingling with the warmth of the moment. “Oh, you’re a mess, little boy,” you teased, your voice light and affectionate, the fondness for him slipping out in every word.

“Mittens take it again?” Spencer asked, his eyes glinting with playful exasperation. He had grown accustomed to your cat’s antics, and he could hardly be surprised at this point.

You nodded, grinning as you pointed to the underside of the bed. “Ding ding, genius,” you replied, your voice light and teasing as his gaze followed your finger. Sure enough, there it was, tucked under the bed—another casualty of your mischievous cat’s nightly adventures.

He grumbled good-naturedly, but a soft smile tugged at the corner of his lips, as if the chaos of the morning didn't matter when you were here with him and everything felt so domestic. As he bent down to pick up his shoe, you couldn't help but watch, your heart swelling at the sight of the man you were so in love with, even in his messiest moments. There was something about him—something in that moment—that made him feel so good, as if everything else could wait and the obvious fact that he didn't feel the same way about you didn't matter. Anyone outside the room generally didn't matter. For now, it was just the two of you, tangled in sheets and laughter, clinging to a piece of time that was all yours and would be the only thing you'd have left when he was gone.

“She loves you, that’s why she does it…I guess she wants your attention,” you said, your voice trailing off, and the taste of the words felt sour in your mouth. It sounded too much like you were talking about yourself rather than your pet, and the realization hit you like a cold wave. It made your chest tighten in a way you couldn’t explain, and you immediately wished you could take the words back. But you didn��t.

He glanced at you, a thoughtful expression crossing his features. “I read something about that,” he said, his voice light, but you could tell he didn’t entirely understand the weight behind your words. It didn’t matter. You were used to it by now.

“You read about everything.” You gave him a small, rueful smile, but it didn’t quite reach your eyes, the bitterness of the moment creeping into your voice. You were fine with it, you told yourself. Fine with everything.

He glanced at the clock, a quiet sigh escaping him. “I have to go…it’s late,” he said, and you could hear the quiet resignation in his voice. The moment, it seemed, had reached its inevitable end.

“Okay.” The word slipped out of your mouth more dryly than you intended, and you hated the way it sounded. You didn’t want him to leave. You didn’t want the moment to end. But it was already slipping away, and you knew it. “But before you go…come here.”

He hesitated, looking at you with uncertainty in his eyes. But then, slowly, he took a step toward you, his face softening when you reached out to touch his cheek. The moment your fingers brushed against his skin, he shivered, and your heart skipped a beat at the contact.

“Is…is something wrong?” he asked, his voice softer now, as if sensing the shift between you.

“No, I just want to say goodbye properly.” You shifted closer, your heart hammering as you moved toward him, your lips hovering near his. The temptation to close the distance, to kiss him, burned inside you. But you didn’t. You couldn’t.

“Take care and come back,” you whispered, the words carrying more weight than you meant. You kissed his forehead gently, your fingers instinctively smoothing his hair down as you did. “Now it’s like you have my blessing,” you added with a faint smile.

He smiled at you, the warmth in his expression a bittersweet thing that made your heart ache. “Thank you, and good luck tomorrow with my godchildren’s.” His voice was soft, but the moment was already passing, slipping away, and with it, the space between you both. He gathered his things, gave you one last lingering look, and then turned toward the door.

You stood there, watching him go, the weight of what you didn’t say crashing down on you. The door clicked shut behind him, and you felt a hollow ache in your chest, a longing you couldn’t quite name.

God, you really wanted kissed him.

God, he really wanted you kissed him.

When Spencer opened his eyes for the first time in a cell and felt a sickening jolt of disorientation. The dirty walls and a rickety bench stared back at him, mocking the comforting image of his organized room and, more painfully, the thought of you. The absence of your laughter, your touch, your presence—everything that had once grounded him—hit him like a freight train. He knew something was wrong.

As the days blurred together and the evidence piled against him, he clung to the belief that this nightmare wasn’t real. Every hearing, every damning piece of evidence that chipped away at his freedom, felt surreal. Even when the judge handed down his sentence, condemning him to months behind bars, the finality of it didn’t register. What shattered him was the moment he filled out his visitation schedule and consciously omitted your name. He hadn’t wanted you to see him like that. He didn’t ask anyone to explain, didn’t try to soften the blow of his absence. That, he thought, was the point of no return—the moment he lost everything.

But Spencer was so wrong. The true breaking point came when he walked out of that hellhole, finally free, and climbed the stairs to his apartment. Each step was a physical ache, the pain in his chest sharper and heavier with every step. His hands trembled as he reached for his keys, the jangling sound unnervingly loud in the empty hallway. His gaze fell on your door, just a few steps away. The familiar sight sent his stomach into knots.

For the first time, he wished you wouldn’t be there.

The thought was alien, unnatural. You had always been there, and he had always wanted you there. When he was too drained to cook, you’d suggest their usual coffee spot, your smile lighting up the grayest of mornings. When his back ached from long nights bent over case files, you’d massage his shoulders, insisting scented candles could fix his bad posture and his bad days. When his mother’s health took a downturn, and he felt his world crumbling, you’d hold him, stroke his back, and promise that everything would be okay. And when his social battery was drained at reunions, you’d step in with your bad jokes or your art facts, making the world feel manageable again.

Now, standing in front of his own door, his fingers clumsy with the lock, all he could hope for was silence. He didn’t know how to face you, didn’t know if he could explain the broken pieces of himself.

His door creaked open, and he was greeted by the familiar scent of the home he had only dreamed of for the last while. It was overwhelming: clean clothes, slightly sweet candles, and something undeniably yours. The apartment was exactly as he remembered it, as if time had stopped the moment he left three months ago and never returned until now. His heart shrank as he took it all in: the blanket you insisted on leaving on the couch, the pile of books you always meant to return to his library but never did, his fish swimming around as if nothing had happened, and even the plants by the window, thriving despite his absence because you had surely watered them without fail.

And then there were the little details, things that told him that you had not moved away from this place, from him. The plate you always left for his cup of coffee, the one you gave him last Christmas, was still on the counter. His favorite cardigan, the one he thought he had misplaced, was folded neatly on the back of the chair and smelled of the baby softener you liked to use. His books were exactly where he had left them, although one of them had a bookmark you had made, a telltale sign that he had read it and was waiting for him to come back to comment on it, as you always did.

But he hadn’t returned.

Not then. And maybe not now at all.

Suddenly, the phone in his pocket rang, its shrill tone slicing through the heavy silence like a sharp reminder of reality. The vibration against his skin startled him, his body tensing as he pulled the device out. His gaze flickered down to the screen, and the name that appeared caused a knot to form in his stomach: JJ. His thumb hovered over the screen, his mind racing, unsure if he was ready for the conversation he knew would follow. But deep down, he knew there was no avoiding her. Jennifer wouldn’t let him slip away unnoticed, and if he didn’t answer, she might show up at his door, demanding answers he wasn’t sure he had.

With a resigned sigh, he swiped the screen and lifted the phone to his ear. “Is everything okay?”

The concern in his own voice surprised him. Maybe it was instinct, or maybe he was just desperate to shift the focus away from himself.

“Everything’s fine,” JJ replied, her voice steady but laced with something deeper. “I just wanted to check in. You’ve been…quiet.”

He exhaled slowly, staring out the window, the city lights stretching before him and the memories cutting deep. “Yeah,” he said, his voice low. “Just trying to catch up on things. All good here.”

“Okay,” she said softly, and there was a pause—a hesitation that made his pulse quicken. He could almost hear her thinking, weighing her next words. Then she cleared her throat, the sound small but deliberate. “Have you seen…her?”

The question hit him like a physical blow, stealing the air from his lungs. He turned away from the window abruptly, pacing the length of the apartment as if motion could somehow ease the tension coiling tighter and tighter in his chest. “No,” he said quickly, too quickly. His jaw clenched, the words tumbling out before he could stop them. “I don’t know if I want to.”

The lie tasted bitter on his tongue, and he wasn’t sure if he believed it himself. How could he say that when every thought of you still made his heart ache? When the idea of you haunted him, so vivid and constant it felt like you were in every shadow of his empty apartment?

Jennifer’s sigh crackled over the line, heavy and filled with the weight of unspoken truths. “She’s been asking about you,” she said softly, her voice tinged with that unshakable sadness she tried so hard to hide. “Every time I see her. I think…” She hesitated again, and Spencer could hear her swallow hard, choosing her next words carefully. “I think you owe her an explanation.”

He swallowed saliva and tightened his fingers around the phone. JJ was right, of course. She always had been. But the idea of facing you, of trying to explain everything without drowning in tears, seemed impossible. How could he tell you the truth? How could he look you in the eye and admit that he had spent the last three months in jail, paying for a crime he had not committed? That he had done things that he deeply regretted, that made him sick and a horrible person?

You deserved better. You always had.

You were a blessing to anyone who had you around, and he knew that better than anyone. That's why he recommended you as a babysitter for JJ's kids, that's why he insisted that you come out to the bar with him and the team several times, that's why he told his mother about you, and that's why he gave you unlimited access to every single part of his life and told you things he'd never told anyone else. You were the one he thought of during those long, sleepless nights behind bars when JJ brought drawings from her boys. He imagined you there with them, sitting cross-legged on the floor, helping Henry with his homework or letting Michael pile blocks on your lap. It was silly—heartbreaking, even—but the thought of you, of your warmth and your kindness, had kept him going.

“I have to go…clean some things,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, so desperate to run away from the topic.

“Okay,” JJ replied softly, her voice tinged with sadness. “Tell me if you need anything.”

Before Spencer could find the strength to speak, the line fell silent. The hum of the apartment filled the space around him, oppressive in its quiet, and he stood there, phone still clenched in his hand. The weight of it, the weight of everything, settled deeper into his chest, making it hard to breathe. He stared at the counter as if it could offer him some sort of escape from the quiet agony that had overtaken him. With a long exhale, he dropped the phone, his fingers lingering on it for a second longer than necessary, before pulling away with a heavy sense of finality.

Just as he was about to move, his mind already drowning in the whirlpool of thoughts he was so desperate to escape, a soft, muted thud broke the oppressive stillness of the apartment. The noise was faint, almost imperceptible, but in the suffocating quiet, it reverberated like a crack of thunder. His breath caught, his heart skipping a beat as his body went rigid. Slowly, he turned his head toward the source of the sound, his eyes locking onto the open balcony door.

A sleek black shape emerged from the shadows, moving with a practiced elegance that seemed almost ethereal in the dim light. Mittens.

“Hey,” he murmured, his voice breaking on the single syllable, hoarse and unsteady as if even addressing his might shatter the fragile thread of control he was clinging to.

The cat paused for a moment, her head tilting slightly as if considering him, her eyes gleaming in the dim light. Then, without a second thought, she padded over, her steps confident and unhurried, the soft click of her claws against the floor the only sound in the room. She jumped lightly onto the couch, then onto the small table beside him, her movements fluid and practiced. As she reached him, Mittens sniffed his hand delicately, then nuzzled it gently, her warm, soft fur brushing against his fingertips. The familiar rumble of her purring filled the air, a soothing, almost hypnotic sound that cut through the tension and wrapped around him like a blanket.

Spencer let out a shaky breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. “I didn’t think I’d see you again,” he whispered, his voice barely audible in the quiet of the apartment. He hesitated, his fingers brushing the soft fur of her head, unable to stop himself from reaching out.

Mittens leaned into his touch, her purr intensifying as her little body pressed against his hand, seeking warmth, some affection. She didn't care about the months she hadn't seen him or just heard his name spoken a thousand times by you. To her, he was still Spencer, the same one who had fed her, played with her, and cared for her whenever he could. That was enough. She was very happy.

“You still remember me,” he murmured, a faint, fragile smile tugging at the corners of his lips. It was the first time he’d smiled in what felt like an eternity.

The cat blinked up at him, her green eyes half-lidded with contentment, as if to say, Of course I do.

For a long moment, he just stood there, his hand resting on her soft fur, letting her purring fill the empty spaces inside him. It was such a small thing, her presence, but it reminded him of you—of the life he’d left behind, the warmth he hadn’t realized he’d needed so desperately until now.

But the calm didn’t last, and Spencer’s heart nearly stopped when he heard a soft knock on the door. His gaze snapped up from the cat, who was now lazily sprawled across the arm of the couch, her purring uninterrupted. The knock came again, this time paired with a voice that sent a jolt through his chest.

“Mittens?”

The voice was muffled through the door, but he knew it instantly. It was you.

Another knock followed, gentle but insistent. “Are you here, baby?”

He froze, every muscle in his body tightening as he registered the sound of your voice. You were here, in his apartment—or at least on the threshold of it. The thought was both thrilling and terrifying. He wasn’t ready for this. He wasn’t ready to see you again.

The cat, oblivious to the tension that suddenly filled the room, stretched lazily before hopping down from the couch. Her tail flicked behind her as she padded toward the door, her movements casual, as if she belonged here. Her eyes were fixed on you as you stepped through the open door, your figure partially silhouetted by the light from the outside.

“There you are,” you said softly, your voice brimming with relief. The warmth in your tone hit him like a physical blow, and he had to bite down hard on the inside of his cheek to stifle the sound threatening to escape.

You crouched down to scoop the cat into your arms, your movements gentle and practiced. “You scared me,” you murmured, cradling her against your chest. Your voice softened, carrying that familiar tenderness he’d missed so desperately. “You’ve been running off so much lately.”

Spencer pressed himself against the shadowed wall, willing himself to disappear. He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move, couldn’t even look at you for fear his body might betray him. The apartment was dark enough to hide him, but he knew the signs of his presence were everywhere—his phone abandoned on the counter, the faint indentation on the couch, the way the air seemed to shift with the weight of him being there.

You didn’t notice. Your focus was entirely on Mittens as you stroked her soft fur, your touch so gentle it made Spencer ache. “I know you miss him,” you murmured, the words falling from your lips so quietly they almost didn’t reach him. “I do too.”

The confession tore through him like a blade, sharp and unrelenting. His chest tightened, and he bit down hard on his lip, tasting the faint metallic tang of blood. Tears burned in his eyes, but he refused to let them fall.

You lingered for a moment, your gaze sweeping over the apartment as if you could feel his presence, even if you didn’t see him. Then, with a soft sigh, you turned back toward the door.

“Let’s go home, baby,” you whispered, pressing a kiss to the top of Mittens’ head before stepping into the night.

The door closed with a quiet click, and Spencer was left alone once more. His knees buckled, and he sank onto the couch, his hand trembling as it pressed against his face. The silence was deafening, a hollow, aching void that swallowed him whole.

Maybe it was for the best. Maybe fate didn’t want you to see him again—at least, not yet.

But then, the next morning, it happened.

You were returning to your apartment, groceries in hand, when you saw him.

He was standing at the end of the hallway with his back to you, as if he was leaving his apartment. As soon as you saw him, your heart skipped a beat and all your rational thoughts vanished. It seemed like an eternity since you had seen him, even though it had only been a few months. Your first instinct was to run to him, throw yourself into his arms, and demand an explanation, but something about his posture made you hesitate. He was stiff, distant, almost sad. His usual warmth was nowhere to be seen. And yet there was something different about him: his long hair, now a bit wilder and more unruly, framed his face in a way you had never seen before. Some curls fell over his eyes, and his beard had grown thicker and darker. The change in his appearance was shocking.

Without thinking, you dropped your groceries at your door and hurried toward him. “Spencer!” you called, your voice trembling with a rush of emotions you had bottled up for months.

He turned slowly, and for a split second, his eyes locked with yours. There was something in his gaze—a flicker of recognition, maybe guilt, but it quickly faded, replaced by a cool distance you had never seen in him before, at least not with you. Before you could stop yourself, you reached out and pulled him into a tight hug. It was instinct, more than anything, to wrap your arms around him like you always used to do. The warmth of his body felt like home, like everything you had missed was right there in your arms. You held on tightly, breathing him in as if this would somehow make up for the absence. You’d been so lonely without him, and this, just holding him again, felt like it would fix everything that has been wrong lately.

But to your surprise, Spencer didn’t move an inch. This time his body was rigid, unyielding, as if he didn’t feel you or want you around. He did not return your hug. He didn’t even seem to acknowledge it or really want it. His arms remained stiff at his sides, and you could feel his breath hitching against your neck, but he didn’t respond. It was like hugging a stranger, someone you once knew but no longer recognized.

“God, I missed you…” You pulled back slightly, looking up at him, trying to gauge his expression, but his face was unreadable. His long hair now brushed against the collar of his shirt, the unruly beard framing his jawline. But his eyes were the only thing that stayed the same—cold and distant, void of the tenderness they once held. “Are you okay?”

He didn’t answer immediately. The silence hung between you, thick and oppressive, before he finally spoke, his voice flat. “Sorry, I…I don’t think I’m the best person for that right now.”

Your heart sank, the warmth of the hug and reunion evaporating into a hollow chill. “What happened?” you whispered, feeling the pain creep into your voice. “Where have you been? Why didn’t you say anything? I was so worried for you and JJ don’t say so much.”

He didn’t smile. He didn’t even look like Spencer, not the one you had known—kind, warm, and always ready to offer comfort. His face was hard, closed off, and distant. He seemed…different, almost cold. “I’m sorry, I needed to get to…work,” he said, his voice clipped and curt. “I didn’t think you’d be awake at this hour.”

You felt a pang of confusion and hurt at his words. “What do you mean? You didn’t want to see me? You haven’t been here in months,” you said, the bitterness creeping into your voice. “You just disappear, and then you show up here, like nothing happened? You sleep here? I came to your apartment last night, and you weren’t there.”

He didn’t react. No apology, no acknowledgment of the pain he’d caused. He just stood there, cold, distant. “I’m sorry,” he said, the words almost sounding like an afterthought. “I had work to do. It’s…complicated.”

“Complicated?” The word tasted bitter on your tongue. “That’s all you’ve got after disappearing for three months?”

Finally, his eyes met yours again, but there was no warmth in them. No tenderness, no familiarity. His gaze was hard, as cold as his words. “I don’t owe you an explanation,” he said sharply, his tone final, cutting through the air like a knife.

It felt like a punch to the gut. The warmth that had once filled your heart whenever Spencer entered a room, the gentle care he had shown you, was now replaced by something colder. It was as if the person you had known—the person who had been your friend, your confidant—had vanished along with the man who used to leave you sweet notes and show up with your favorite food after a rough day.

“You…you don’t owe me anything?” you whispered, your heart breaking with each word.

The silence stretched between you again, suffocating. When he spoke, his voice was quiet, almost hesitant. “I’m sorry.”

But it was hollow, empty. A formality. Not an apology that meant anything.

And then, just as quickly as he had appeared, he turned, walking away. “I have to go,” he said, his voice softer now, but still detached.

Before you could say anything else, he turned, leaving as quickly as he had appeared. And just like that, he was gone again—leaving you alone with the deafening silence and a heart full of questions.

Just like your worst fear: Spencer was avoiding you in the hallway.

#criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x fanfiction #spencer reid x you #spencer reid angst #matthew gray gubler

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imaginespazzi · 7 hours ago

Text

Part 13: If You Stay

Masterlist - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9 - Part 10 - Part 11 - Part 12

And I find it bittersweet (cause you gave me something to lose)

(In which, an all over the place writer, writes an all over the place chapter)

Pairing: Paige Bueckers X Azzi Fudd

Themes: Angst with some Hurt/Comfort and a little bit of Fluff

Words: 13.1K

TW: Swearing, Slightly Suggestive Content, Mentions of Divorce, Drinking

A/N: Hello my lovelies <3 So clearly that 48 to 72 hours deadline completely evaded me but here I am! I've always gotten asks about how many chapters GH will be and normally it's an estimate but I can almost for certain say that after this one, there will be two more chapters. This part is, like I said, a little all over the place as I start to tie in loose ends and bring everything together but it's pretty important as we start our journey to the end. This isn't particularly well-edited because as well know I hate editing but I eventually will go back and edit so any typos/errors you see are much-appreciated. As always, your live reacts give me life, so let me know what you liked, what you didn't and what you'd like to see next. Have a lovely weekend my loves <3

May 2033

Paige wakes up alone to an empty bed. Her eyes open to the feel of her fingers reaching out and finding nothing but the soft material of her crinkled bedsheets. She stares at the empty space, gaze fixated on the way the sunlight hits the exact spot Azzi had been curled up in and lets her mind wander back to yesterday -god everything had been fine just 24 hours ago- when the rays of sunshine coming through the window had cast lines of gold across the brunette’s face. It wasn’t often that Paige woke up before Azzi, but for some reason she had yesterday. Maybe it was the universe’s way of giving her one last chance to memorize an image that she’s not sure when she’ll be able to see again. Paige traces her hands along the linen, blinking back tears, and she swears she can still feel the heat of Stephie and Azzi’s bodies radiating off of it. It’s unfair, she knows, to expect them to have stayed when it’s the one thing she herself can’t commit to doing but still, that awareness does little to dull the ache reverberating through her chest.

Sighing to herself, Paige shifts onto her back, turning away from the empty space that almost feels taunting. She gives herself a minute, taking deep breaths to chase away the erraticness in her heartbeat and the moisture in her eyes before finally sitting up and leaning against the headboard. Her eyebrows knit together when she notices the bag in the corner -the pink duffel Azzi had packed for last night- and she almost gasps. It wasn’t like Azzi to forget her stuff, even when escaping. And then she hears it, the familiar giggles of a little girl echoing from her kitchen and Paige feels her heart break and fix itself at the same time.

They’d stayed.

Paige flings the covers off of herself, making it from the guest bedroom to the stairs in record time. She almost slips on the fifth step as she races down the stairs, every part of her alight with the need to just see Stephie and Azzi. Her feet skid to a halt before the kitchen doorway and her breath catches in her lungs, hand immediately clutching at her chest as she takes in the scene in front of her. It’s the three most important people of her life gathered around the kitchen counter. Azzi’s flipping pancakes, a soft grin on her face as she listens to Drew and Stephie -both of them already with a stack of pancakes on their respective plates- who are animatedly arguing about whether banana or chocolate chips go better with pancakes.

“Come on Uncle Drew,” Stephie drawls, “choc-chips are the best-est-est-est and ‘nanas are boooooring.”

“Bananas are not boring,” Drew counters, his voice filled with dramatic offense, “you can mash them in the pancake or eat them on the side or on top of the stack. Bananas are versatile.”

Stephie scrunches her nose and Paige smiles as the little girl gives her brother a pointed look, “I don’t know what vers-a-tile means so that doesn’t even matter to me.”

Azzi snorts, “I don’t think that’s how that works Stephie-bean.”

“Does too,” Stephie pouts and then juts her fork out at Drew, “here Uncle Drew, try it and you’ll see choc-chips are so much better than that,” she looks disdainfully at the young man’s plate.

Drew dutifully accepts the bite of food, chewing it at an exaggeratedly slow pace as he pretends to contemplate how he feels about it.

“I mean it’s not bad,” he says finally, before a smirk breaks out on his lips, “but banana’s clear.”

“Nah, I don’t know about that,” Paige says, finally making her presence known as she walks over to Stephie’s side, “You’re both wrong. Blueberries are better with pancakes than both bananas and chocolate chips,” she reaches out to ruffle Stephie’s hair, smile faltering when the little girl dodges her hand, “Steph-”

“Mama,” gone is the happy child that had been casually bantering with Drew; Stephie’s face is ashen with the remnants of her emotions from last night as shift herself as far away from Paige as possible, “I wanna go home.”

Her words feel like a sword, pricking against the bubble of delusion Paige had created mere seconds ago; the wishful thought that maybe they could ignore what had happened last night, that they could just close the lid on the jar of darkness they’d opened and pretend the obsidian hadn’t slipped out, clouding the paradise they’d built before. And maybe that’s Paige’s problem. Avoidance. She’d pushed herself towards Stephie and Azzi, acting like there wasn’t a harness -bound together with the ropes of all the grievances, all the fears, that the past had left in her- and now she was stuck, so close to reaching them but unable to finally get there.

Azzi’s eyes flicker conflictedly between Paige’s ashen face and Stephie’s stormy one, her teeth gnawing at her bottom lip, “you’ve still got some more left on your plate Stephie-bean,”

“I don’t want the rest,” Stephie says adamantly, pushing the plate away from her, “I’m not hungry anymore.”

“Stephie we don’t waste food,” Azzi says it like it’s a reprimand but Paige knows it’s for her sake, to give her more time with Stephie, and a mix of guilt and gratefulness pools in her stomach as fights the urge to pull the younger woman into her arms and kiss away the stress lines that have formed on her forehead in the last 24 hours.

“Then pack it and we can take it home,” Stephie slides off the counter, tiny arms crossing over her chest as she looks at her mother with pleading eyes, “please Mama, I don’t wanna be here anymore.”

“Stephie-” Paige tries to say, reaching out once again for the little girl.

“Excuse me Coach Bueckers,” Stephie sidesteps the older woman, her voice far colder than a little girl’s voice should -far colder than anything she’s ever used with her Miss Buecks- and it feels like shards of ice prodding against Paige’s heart.

“Stephie please-”

The little girl refuses to meet her gaze but Paige notices the way her eyes glance towards her for the briefest moment, like she wants nothing more than to turn around and fling herself at the older woman. But the look is gone as quick as it came and Stephie’s face hardens -and Paige hates herself for being the reason why- as she looks at her mother.

“Please can we go home now Mama?”

Azzi sighs, “yeah bean, we can go home. Unless-” she hesitates, eyes locking with Paige’s, “unless- maybe Miss Buecks has a reason we should stay?”

And Paige knows this is Azzi giving her one last chance, one last opportunity to say the right things, to keep Stephie and Azzi with her. It’s why she hadn’t left this morning; she’d been waiting to see if Paige was ready. And all Paige has to do is open her mouth and make the promises that she couldn’t last night; shut the door on her escape plan -to New York and the Liberty- and she can open the one that leads to her perfect dream; that leads to a forever with Stephie and Azzi. But that’s the thing; what if forever doesn’t last? After all, the last time she’d trusted in it -trusted the same woman in front of her to be hers always- forever had turned out to be a myth. But Paige isn’t ready. And so she averts Azzi’s gaze, keeps her mouth shut and looks away before she can see the hope disappear from the brunette’s face.

“Right,” Azzi swallows, “alright then uh -you’re right Stephie- we should- we should go home. You go wash your face and uh- Mama’s gonna go grab our stuff and then- then we can go.”

The last words make an indiscernible noise creak out of Paige’s lips as she watches Stephie make her way towards the bathroom. Azzi carefully flips the final pancake onto a plate -one with a stack of blueberry pancakes- before turning the stove off and beelining for the stairs towards the guest room. But Paige is quicker, curling her fingers around the younger woman’s wrist to keep her in place.

“Az,” she breathes out, unsure what to say- unsure what she even wants to say.

Azzi doesn’t look at her, “I ordered groceries.”

“What?”

“You didn’t have any food and I- I wanted to make pancakes,” Azzi explains, “but uh- I got more than just pancake stuff. There’s eggs and milk and that stupid cereal that you like and just- just basic groceries you know. And I know you don’t like veggies but I had to get some because they’re good for you Paige okay but don’t- don’t worry- I balanced it out with all those ridiculously unhealthy snacks you like.”

“Azzi,” Paige’s voice cracks, “you didn’t have to-”

“I did,” Azzi cuts her off, “you just- you can’t live off of fucking takeout okay,” a lone tear slides down her cheek, “and I got- I got enough groceries to last you two weeks but you- you’ll have to get more eventually if-” she stops herself but they both know where that sentences was going.

If you’re gonna live here- if you’re gonna live by yourself.

“I just-” Paige struggles to get the words out, “I need some more time.”

“I know,” Azzi finally looks at her and for a second Paige almost wishes she hadn’t because the hurt -the please just say you’ll stay- swimming in the younger woman’s eyes is almost too much to bear, “I know you need time and you- you can have it,” she brushes her thumb against Paige’s waterline, “but you can’t have both. You can’t have time and us.”

Why not, Paige wants to scream, wants to stomp her feet like a petulant toddler but she knows Azzi’s right, knows that they have to be apart until she figures it out. And so she nods at the brunette’s words as Azzi gently caresses her cheek -fingers lingering just a little longer than they should- before she rushes upstairs to grab her and Stephie’s overnight bag.

Paige watches her go before she disappears out of sight, and the blonde falls back against the counter. Closing her eyes as she takes in a couple of deep breaths, she swears the air has never felt more acidic. She can feel Drew looking at her; can almost see the contemplative -maybe even concerned- look in his eyes without opening her own.

“What?” she bites out, harsher than intended.

“Nothing,” Drew hesitates, “I just- I didn’t think Azzi would have stayed last night.”

Paige shrugs, eyes still closed, “I asked her to.”

“I figured but I- I guess I didn’t expect her to agree,” Drew says quietly.

There’s an undercurrent to her brother’s tone that has Paige finally opening her eyes, fixing him with a stern gaze, “what exactly are you trying to say Drew?”

“Nothing,” Drew repeats but the nervous shuffle of his feet say something entirely different.

“Drew.”

“She stayed Paige,” his voice breaks unexpectedly, “last night, this morning, she- she stayed.”

There’s a beat of silence as Paige stares at her brothers, absorbing his words when the unexpected flash of anger hits, “seriously?”

“What?” Drew’s taken aback by the fire in his sister's eyes.

“What do you mean what? One fucking stack of pancakes and suddenly all that shit you said to me last night- you don’t believe it anymore? All of that’s forgotten now?”

“That’s not-”

“Jesus fucking christ Drew,” Paige pinches the bridge of her nose and she’s fully aware her anger is misdirected -that it’s herself, she’s mad at- but she continues ranting at her brother anyways, “you made me overthink everything Drew. I was doing fine, we were doing fine and then- then you said all of that shit last night, reminded me of everything and now here we are the next morning and what? You’re not mad at Azzi anymore? She stays one fucking night and all is forgiven? You’ve changed your whole fucking mind-”

“You can’t blame me-” Drew begins to cut her off loudly but then there’s another voice -soft and small- interrupting both of them as they turn to see Stephie staring at them, her expression almost fearful at the sound of them arguing. And Paige hates herself a little bit for putting all these new expressions on the little girl’s face; she misses when she used to be the reason for her smile.

“That’s- that’s two bad words Miss-” Stephie stops herself, swallowing away the familiar name, “I mean- Coach Bueckers.”

“Sorry Stephie,” Paige whispers, pausing slightly before she takes a nervous step towards the girl, “so does that- does that mean I owe you two kisses?”

Stephie’s face wobbles, her bottom lip trembling as she nods slowly, “yeah you do.”

Paige breathes shakily as she kneels down in front of the little girl, eyes drinking in the sight of having her this close -like they know they might not get this moment again- as she slowly pulls her into her arms. Stephie is warm and soft and familiar and Paige wishes she would never have to let the little girl go. She squeezes her to her chest as she delicately places her lips against Stephies left cheek.

“I’m sorry sweetheart,” she whispers against the little girl’s soft skin, hoping the child knows it isn’t just for the swearing before she presses another fluttering kiss against Stephie’s right cheek, “I’m so sorry.”

And then, just as Stephie’s about to pull out of her grasp, Paige stops her, pressing her lips to the little girl’s forehead. When she pulls back, Stephie’s staring at her with a confused look on her face.

“You only owed me two,” she says matter-of-factly, “what was the last one for?”

Paige gives the little girl a sad smile as she brushes away a strand of curly hair that had gotten loose from her ponytail, “just because you’re my Stephie-bean.”

Stephie stares at her and Paige can see a myriad of emotions flicker behind her tiny eyes. She opens her mouth, like she’s about to say something and Paige’s heart thumps in anticipation, but then the sound of Azzi’s footsteps coming down echoes from the stairs and Stephie pushes away from her. And suddenly, Paige feels empty, like the most vital parts of her are missing.

“You ready to go Stephie-bean?” Azzi asks, mustering on a brave voice for her daughter but Paige can hear the way it’s cracking, can tell from her red-rimmed eyes that she’d taken a little longer than necessary upstairs to fix herself.

“Yeah Mama,” Stephie takes her mother’s outstretched hand, “let’s go home.”

The walk through the foyer and outside towards Azzi car feels like it takes hours. Drew doesn’t come all the way, stopping at the front door and giving Stephie a quick high-five that draws a brief smile from the little girl. He doesn’t say anything to Azzi but there’s an underlying softness in the way he tips his head towards her as they nod at each other. And then it’s just the three of them and Paige swears they’re all walking just a little bit slower than they normally do, like they’re trying to savor this moment just a little longer and prolong the inevitable.

She leans against the side of the car as Azzi buckles Stephie into her carseat. The little girl keeps on her brave face, avoiding eye contact with both Paige and her mother as she focuses firmly in front of her. When Azzi closes the backdoor, Stephie’s face disappearing behind the tinted windows, Paige wants to scream. Everything in her feels like it’s burning and freezing at the same time.

Azzi hesitates as she’s about to get into the driver’s seat, biting her lip as she turns back towards Paige.

“You should know that I - that Stephie and I- we-” she pauses, like she’s scared to say the rest of it, “we want you- we want you forever Paige,” both of them suck in a deep breath as the confession looms in the air above them, “and I know you need time and you should take it,” Azzi says softly, her hand reaching almost halfway to caress Paige’s cheek before falling forlornly back to her sides, “but we can’t- we won’t wait forever.”

***

August 2031

Paige is normally a big fan of All-Star weekend; she relishes the chaos of the weekend, getting the opportunity to connect with her fellow peers in a way that wasn’t possible during the rest of the season and just didn’t quite happen at this level outside of it. But she’s definitely not a fan of it this year, considering it’s being held in her team’s city, in Dallas. Six years later and still, something about this city doesn’t quite feel right, doesn’t feel quite like a place she can call home.

But still, at least it had given her the chance to not have to be in her apartment this weekend. Unlike her teammates who were more than comfortable staying in their respective homes, Paige had taken up the WNBA’s offer to stay where the rest of the non-Wings players were staying. It’s ironic that the sterile walls of an unfamiliar hotel somehow feel more comforting than a home that’s supposed to be hers. Except, the apartment -the one she’d moved into after the divorce after giving Oliva their house in an act of goodwill- feels cold and empty and Paige has done little to rectify it. She pretends it’s because she’s too busy, that she’ll get to hanging up the picture frames and decorating the walls eventually. But there’s a part of her that knows she’s likely just stalling the inevitable, that the apartment is as temporary as it gets until she finally lets herself make the decision to to leave Dallas.

The quiet ding of the elevator opening has Paige sighing as she shakes her mind of that daunting thought. It’s why she’d rushed out of her room in the first place, not wanting to be trapped with herself for longer than necessary. The silence has become her worst enemy, enhancing the loneliness that she’s felt ever since the divorce- maybe even longer.

Divorce.

God she hates that word, has hated it since her parents had sat her down and said they were getting one. She’d always told herself she wouldn’t become another divorce statistic like them but clearly history liked repeating itself. And the worst part of it, Paige thinks, is that she doesn’t regret the divorce -thinks it might be one of the only right decisions she’s made in the last six years- but maybe she regrets that marriage, regrets selling Olivia a dream, she’d subconsciously always known she wouldn’t be able to fulfill.

Thinking of Olivia makes Paige feel awful. She hadn’t done anything outrightly wrong to the other woman, never raised her voice or said anything untoward and she’d definitely never cheated. Well, not physically at least. But she’d gotten married to the reporter for all the wrong reasons, trying to fit a puzzle piece that had all the wrong edges into the jigsaw of her life even though she’d known the empty space in her heart could only be filled by one person. For her part, Olivia had been just as good at pretending as Paige was, acting like she couldn’t see the cracks in their relationship or the water that was seeping in through them.

And then something shifted -maybe the water had finally gone over their head- and just like she’d been the one to bring up the idea of getting married, Olivia was the one who had filed for divorce. And Paige thinks maybe the worst thing she ever did to Olivia, is the way she didn’t fight it once. She remembers the hesitation in her ex-wife’s eyes, remembers the slight pleading look on her face as if she wanted Paige to at least resist it a little bit. But she hadn’t; she’d simply nodded and signed. That was the end of the Olivia, Paige knew and from then on the sweet, bubbly, slightly over-enthusiastic reporter who’d stumbled over her question at Paige’s first media availability transformed into a cold ex-wife who could keep up a charade of cordiality for appearances, but never refrained from a cutting jab here and there.

The elevator dings open and Paige steps into the lobby, straightening her hoodie a little bit as she scans the area for familiar faces. Finding no one she’s particularly interested in talking to, she’d just about to head to the bar when her eyes land on a little girl nervously bouncing on her feet next to a vase of flowers that’s almost double her height. She can’t be older than three years old and Paige can tell from the way her bottom lip is trembling, that the young child is doing her absolute best to hold in tears. Something constricts in her heart -something almost more than just empathy for the little girl- as Paige makes her way over.

Gently, trying not to scare the girl, Paige kneels in front of her, “hey sweetheart.”

When the little girl turns to look at her, familiar dark brown doey eyes filled with unshed tears, her breath hitches in her throat and Paige suddenly realizes why she’d felt that tug in her heart. This is Azzi’s kid.

“H-hi,” the little girl manages to splutter, playing with her fingers as she regards Paige with a way expression, clearly trying to discern whether she’s safe or not.

“Hey,” Paige repeats, smiling reassuringly, “you okay?”

The little girl nods slowly but there must something about the warmth in Paige’s smile that she pauses, rebellious teardrops running down her face as she goes from nodding to shaking her head.

“I-I-I-I- lost,” she wails.

“Oh sweetheart it’s okay,” Paige tries to say, hands instinctively reaching out to run up and down the little girl’s shoulders.

“I was- I was ‘posed to be with Aunty J but she- she was talking and I saw pu-ple flow-es,” she points to the vase through her tears, “so I came to see but then- but then- I look back and Aunty J no there anymore and I want- I want my Mama,” she heaves, fully sobbing now, “I want my Mama.”

“It’s okay sweetheart, shhh,” Paige comforts the little girl as she stands back up, lacing her own fingers through her tinier ones, “how about we go and try to find your Mama?”

She’s about to turn around when feels a tug on her hand and when she looks down, the young child is shaking her head, adamantly planting her feet firmly on the floor.

“We can’t go,” she says firmly, “Mama says if I get lost, I stay where I am and Mama will find me. And-,” she hesitates as she looks Paige up and down, “Mama says I don’t go anywhere with a st-anger.”

It shouldn’t sting -because that’s what Paige is, a stranger- but it’s an unsettling reminder that this is a world like nothing she’d ever imagined when she was younger, a world where Azzi’s daughter doesn’t know her.

“So we can’t go. We have to stay here and Mama will find me,” the little girl says again and despite the tears still swimming in her eyes, there’s complete confidence -trust- in her voice that her mother -that Azzi- will find her.

“Okay,” Paige agrees softly, “but is it okay if I wait with you?”

Azzi’s daughter looks at her with a contemplative look for a couple of seconds before a bright grin explodes on her face and Paige thinks it feels a little bit like a ray of sunshine bombarding into her otherwise cloudy world.

“Okay,” the little girl grins happily before holding out a tiny hand, “I’m Stephanie Katarina Fudd.”

Paige laughs at the formality as she shakes Stephanie’s hand, “I’m Paige Madison Bueckers.”

“Nice to meet you Miss Buecks,” Stephanie chirps as smiles up at the woman.

“It’s Bueckers,” Paige tries to correct as Stephanie scrunches up her nose.

“That’s what I said,” she says with a confused look on her face, “Miss Buecks.”

Paige opens her mouth to try and correct her again but stops, deciding she’s not about to argue with the little girl and that she quite likes the incorrect way Stephanie says her name. Instead she lets herself fall to the ground, leaning against the pillar as she stretches out her legs in front of her. Stephanie raises an eyebrow at the actions but eventually sits down next to her and Paige smiles. They sit in silence for a bit as Paige reaches for her phone, considering texting Azzi for a brief second before she eventually decides to text Jana -who she thinks might just be Stephanie’s Aunty J- instead to let Azzi know Stephanie was with her.

“I know you,” Stephanie says suddenly and Paige looks away from the phone to see the little girl’s eyes wide with recognition.

“I thought you said I was a stranger,” Paige cocks a teasing eyebrow.

“You are,” Stephanie says matter-of-factly, “but I seen you at Mama’s game sometimes.”

“I’ve seen you too,” Paige admits.

“You’re good at bask-ball,” Stephanie states and the thing is, Paige has heard and read so many people say she’s great at basketball but there’s something about the way Stephanie says it -something about the genuine innocence of it- that makes her beam with pride.

“I guess I am,” she bumps Stephanie’s shoulder as she winks at her.

“I love bask-ball,” Stephaniee’s eyes gleam as she says it and Paige knows that expression -knows that slight look of madness that’s just the beginning of falling in love with a sport.

“Yeah?” she asks casually, “you play ball?”

Stephanie nods enthusiastically, “Mama got me a hoop for Ch-istmas -just like the one she had when she littler- and she p-omised that when I’m bigger, she’s gonna lemme go bask-ball camp.”

It’s hard not to grin along with Stephanie’s ranting, especially not when her determination to play basketball -one that reminds Paige a lot of herself- shines through her words.

“You any good,” Paige teases, biting back a laugh when the little girl’s face contorts in offense, like she can’t even believe someone would have the audacity to question her basketball skills.

“Of course I am. I’m Azzi Fudd’s daughter,” Stephanie says proudly, blissfully unaware of the way Paige's smile wobbles for a second at the statement, “but Mama says one day, I’mma be even gooder than her.”

“Can I get your autograph now then?”

Stephanie scrunches her nose, “what’s an au-to-gra-ph?”

“Wait,” Paige stands up, on a mission to find a pen, but Stephanie immediately grabs her hand.

The little girl’s eyes are wide with anxiety as she looks up at Paige, “no Miss Buecks don’t leave me.”

“Oh sweetheart I’m not,” Paige crouches back down in front of Stephanie, thumbs reaching out to rub the little girl’s cheeks in reassurance, “I’m gonna go right there to get something,” she points to the the reception desk, “I’ll be back in one minutes. I swear.”

“Pinky p-omise?” Stephanie raises her pinky and Paige diligently intertwines her own around it.

“Pinky promise,” she says, before practically skipping over to where she’d spotted a cup-holder full of pens. She can feel Stephanie’s anxious eyes piercing into the back of her head and if possible, the smile she’s had on her face since meeting the little girl, somehow deepens. It’s dangerous, she knows, becoming so enamored with Azzi’s daughter but her heart has always moved faster than her head, and Paige still hasn’t quite figured out how to stop that.

“You’re back,” Stephanie claps happily when Paige comes back to her and the blonde beams at the affection in her voice.

“Told you I would be,” Paige grins as she plops back down next to the little girl, holding out the pen she’d found.

“Why you get pen?” Stephanie asks, staring at it like it’s a foreign object.

“Because you need a pen to give me your autograph,” Paige explains, “an autograph is when someone famous signs their name on something for someone,” she holds out her arm that is currently covered by a grey hoodie, “will you sign my hoodie?”

“Silly Miss Buecks,” Stephanie chides, “You and Mama are famous. I’m not famous.”

“Not yet. But if you’re as good at basketball as you say you are, then one day, Stephanie Katarina Fudd, you are gonna be so famous. Just like me and your Mama,” Paige taps the little girl’s nose, releasing the giggle it elicits from her and she thinks it might be her new favorite sound, “and I wanna be the first person who gets your autograph.”

“Can I get yours too?” Stephanie asks, her tone a little shy and Paige thinks that forget an autograph, she’d give her the world if she’d asked for it.

“Of course you can bean,” the nickname slips out before she can catch it and Paige’s mind travels back to her wedding day, back to the phone-call with Azzi.

“Mama calls me bean too,” Stephanie says, as she begins to messily try and write her name on the sleeve of Paige’s hoodie, “she calls me Stephie-bean.”

As if on cue, Azzi’s voice fills the air, tinged with a slight bit of panic and Paige feels her heart catch in her throat. Six years they’ve been apart, something always thrums in her every time she feels Azzi’s presence near her. But it feels almost electric this time. The memories of the last time they’d seen each other, the night they’d spent together after this year’s National Championship game linger in the air and Paige shivers like she can still feels the softness of Azzi’s skin underneath her fingertips; can still hear the breathlessness of her moans in her hears.

“Stephie-bean,” Azzi calls out and Stephanie’s eyes dart towards her mother’s voice as she immediately stands up, little feet tripping over each other as she rushes to get to the younger woman.

“MAMA,” Stephanie yells, flinging herself into her mother’s arms and Paige watches as Azzi cradles the little girl to her chest, kissing all over her face. Something pangs in her chest, and she wishes she were a part of that embrace too. And if all the dreams they’d dreamt together when they were younger had come true, she would’ve been.

“Stephie what have I said about running off,” Azzi scolds as she coaxes the little girl's face out of her neck.

“I din-t run off,” Stephanie defends petulantly, “I go to look at pu-ple flow-es cause they looked so pretty but then when I turned around, Aunty J gone,’ her face wobbles at the memory, “I was so scay-ed Mama cause I lost and ‘lone but then,” her voice changes immediately as she turns around to point at Paige, who freezes when Azzi’s gaze lands on her, “Miss Buecks find me!”

“Miss Buecks,” Azzi repeats dazedly as Stephanie begins to pull her towards Paige, unaware of the anxious tension between the two adults.

“This is Miss Buecks,” Stephahnie introduces the two of them, “she find me and she tol’ me she help me find you but I say that Stephie can’t move cause Stephie have to stay right here cause Mama says if Stephie lost, Stephie don’t move,” the little girl says animatedly and both adults laugh at the random switch to third-person, “but Miss Buckes say she’ll stay with me and so I not ‘care anymore cause I have Miss Buecks,” she says casually, naive to the way it makes both Paige and Azzi swallows, “and look Mama,” she eagerly grabs Paige’s sleeve, “I give Miss Buecks my auto-gaph.”

“That’s, that’s lovely sweetheart,” Azzi says softly before she turns to Paige -and Paige wonders if it’ll ever stop, if the way her stomach swoons every time the brunette looks at her will ever go away-, “thank you for texting Jana and thank you- thank you for staying with her.”

Paige shrugs as casually as she can, “don’t gotta thank me,” she nudges Stephanie, “we had a great time together didn’t we Stephanie?”

The little girl nods enthusiastically, “the great-est-est-est time,” she exclaims to her mother, “Miss Buecks is so cool.”

“Thanks Stephie-” Paige hesitates, unsure if she has the right to use the nickname, “Stephanie. You’re really cool too.”

Stephanie practically glows at the compliment, “Mama, Miss Buecks thinks I’m cool and- and- and- she say that I’m gonna be famous one day. That’s why she wanted my auto-gaph. Cause I’mma be a big bask-ball star just like you two.”

Azzi ruffles the little girl’s hair before looking at Paige with an indiscernible expression, “just like us huh?”

“Maybe even better,” Paige says softly.

“I guess we’ll find out,” Azzi grins before leaning down to pick her daughter up -the sight of it invoking something warm and fuzzy in Paige’s stomach- “alright Stephie-bean, say bye to Miss Buecks. We gotta go get ready the orange carpet and I gotta go yell at your Aunty J for losing you again,” she winks at Paige who lets out a laugh.

And she hasn’t laughed like this -laughed as much as she has in these last few minutes with Stephanie- in so long that she’d almost forgotten what it sounded like.

“Bye Miss Buecks,” Stephanie waves over her mother’s shoulder.

“Bye Stephanie,” Paige waves before hesitating for a second, and then she calls out, “hey Azzi?”

Azzi turns around slightly, humming in response, “what’s up?”

“I like that you call her Stephie-bean,” Paige admits nervously, hoping Azzi will understand what she means and by the way the brunette’s eyes soften, it’s clear she does.

“It just felt right,” Azzi says softly; her mouth opens like she wants to say more -something more than what their current colleague-esque relationship allows for- but in the end, she settles on something far more mundane, “see you around Bueckers.”

“See ya,” Paige whispers back and if she stands completely still, watching Stephanie and Azzi walking all the way until they turn a corner and she can’t see them anymore, well that’s nobody’s business but her own.

That’s the first night Paige lets herself wonder about the possibilities of becoming a Golden State Valkyrie.

***

June 2033

Dream 64 Valkyries 87

Paige has never had particularly strong feelings towards the Atlanta Dream. They weren’t a particularly bad team, nor were they a particularly great team and Paige had simply never had an experience with them -whether it was a fan of the league or as a player in it- that was worth remembering for her to feel anything towards them. But tonight, tonight Paige fucking hates the Atlanta Dream.

Okay maybe she doesn’t hate the team.

She hates a certain player, a certain #11 wearing French player who’d had the audacity to hold her Stephie, to wrap her arms around her Azzi. Paige had spent the first couple of minutes of warm-ups with a deep scowl on her face as she’d watched Clémence interact with her girls. She’d hated the way Stephie grinned at the French woman, hated the way Azzi had laughed at something she’d said. But most of all Paige hated that she hadn’t been able to do any of that -hadn’t been on the receiving end of Stephie’s giggles or Azzi’s warm smile- for almost three weeks now. God she missed them so fucking much.

It was until Jana had tapped her on the back -a knowing look in her teammate’s eyes- that Paige had finally turned away from the scene. She’d channeled all her anger and frustration into the game, playing as the most aggressive version of herself. And it had paid off in the form of a 31 points, 7 assists, 4 rebounds and 3 stocks game, another statline cementing her position in the rather early race for MVP. But all of that feels futile now as Paige -signing autographs before she had to head off to media- notices Stephie go racing back into Clémence’s arms, the little girl’s face bright with happiness as the French woman catches her and twirls her around. From the corner of her eyes, she notices Azzi walking towards the two of them and Paige normally loves Azzi’s smile -think’s it’s nothing short of being the prettiest sight in the world- but she thinks she might hate it a little bit right now when it’s directed at Clémence.

“Aunty Chérie,” Stephie’s squeals echo clearly in Paige’s ears, despite the noise of the crowd surround her, “you played so good today.”

“Merci ma chérie,” Clémence's voice is saccharine sweet, “I’m very happy to see you. I have missed you lots. I was thinking,” Paige continues to sign another jersey but her ears are fully tuned into the conversation happening a couple meters away as Clémence’s attention turns towards Azzi, “we are leaving tomorrow morning so I have some time tonight. So I was thinking maybe I could take you and Stephie out to dinner tonight? Unless-” Paige feels both Clemence’s and Azzi’s eyes flicker to herself and she tries to keep her focus on the fans in front of her, “unless perhaps you are going with someone else?”

Paige waits with bated breath for Azzi’s answer, wishing her telepathic plea for the brunette say no, could somehow reach her but it’s Stephie who answers first.

“Mama please can we go,” the little girl begs immediately -her tone one that Paige knows to be the one she uses when she’s trying to get her mother to agree, “please, please, please. We haven’t gotten dinner with Aunty Chérie in so long.”

“Stephie-” there’s hesitation in Azzi’s voice but Paige knows that she’s likely to cave into her daughter’s wishes -after all Stephie isn’t asking for anything ridiculous- and she knows she has to get away, not wanting to hear anymore about Clémence’s stupid fucking dinner plans.

Giving the fans in front of her a tight-lipped smile, Paige slowly backs away from them, eyes searching for Joyce -her companion to face the press tonight- as she heads towards the media-room. She’s so focused on looking for her teammate or perhaps she’s too in her head but she doesn’t spot the assistant carrying water bottles coming. The two of them collide with a large crash that rings around Chase Center as the bottles go flying across the court. Paige’s cheeks turn a deep shade of pink as she feels the eyes of everyone on her -none more piercing than Azzi’s- but she doesn’t dare turn around. Instead she shoots the assistant an apologetic look, gathering as many water bottles as in front of her, before she’s bolting to the press room, wondering what the fuck she's done for the universe to keep testing her like this.

***

Paige is the last person left in the locker room. By the time she and Joyce had returned from the press conference, most of the team had fizzled out. And so she’d taken her time -ignoring the weird look Joyce gave her considering normally they were all eager to get home- showering and getting changed. She’d come out of the shower to a desolate locker room and as she’d sat on the bench, drying her damp hair, she’d let herself succumb to all the thoughts she’d been suppressing.

It’s somehow worse this time; it hurts more in a way that Paige hadn’t known was possible. They hadn’t been together nearly as long as they were back then and their relationship was barely defined. But at least last time, Paige had been able to run to another side of the country where she wasn’t constantly reminded of her ex. Azzi isn’t even technically an ex this time, but there’s no avoiding her. Not when they’re on the same team, not when she’s a coach at her daughter’s camp. And Paige doesn’t quite know what’s harder, trying to find oxygen in an air devoid of Azzi and Stephie’s presence, or trying to breathe when they’re near her.

Perhaps that’s why it’s so different. Paige has lost Azzi before and even if that doesn’t make the hurt any less, at least she has a blueprint for how to cope with it. But she doesn’t know how to deal with losing Stephie, doesn’t know how to not miss the little girl’s smile and her big doey eyes and the way she’d used to wrap her arms around Paige like she was trying to bind them together forever.

But more than anything, more than missing Azzi or Stephie, Paige misses the three of them together. She misses Azzi’s exasperated look when she and Stephie would indulge in some sort of ridiculous drama. She misses the little girl’s mischievous look before she’d launch herself into both of their arms. She misses her own soft smile as she’d watch the two of them engage in the most mundane things. She misses the peaceful silence as they’d eat together and the noisy chaos when they’d argue over what movie to watch afterwards. She misses everything.

And the worst part is that she knows she wouldn’t be missing any of it, if it wasn’t for the barriers she’s put up herself. This is a cage of Paige’s own making and the key to open the lock rests in her own hands. She just needs to be brave enough to use it. Azzi words run amok in her head, the reassurance that Paige could have time clouded by the reluctant warning that eventually that time would run out.

“Hey,” she snaps herself out of her thoughts to see Azzi cautiously entering the locker room, her playing jersey swapped from a casual green top and cargo pants.

Paige swallows, “hi.”

“I uh- I was um-” Azzi’s eyes nervously dart around the room as she strides over to her locker, picking up the pink lipgloss -one Paige has the taste of memorized- that’s sitting on the bench under it, “I forgot this so I uh- I came back to grab it.”

“Cool,” Paige replies monotonously but her head’s already racing with thoughts of will you let her kiss it off of you the way you let me? And she knows -she trusts- that Azzi won’t but even the possibility of it lights a small fire within her.

Azzi chews on her lips as she nods, before starting to walk towards the door but she stops last second, turning around with the starts of a smile on her lips, “you were amazing tonight P. I mean you have been since the season started but tonight especially, you were just- you were you. You were awesome.”

Paige absorbs the compliments, tries to use it to douse the simmering jealousy that’s flaming up within her at the knowledge that once Azzi leaves this locker room, she’s likely going with Clémence.

“Thanks,” the blonde manages to get out and it’s a little short and rather icy but Paige thinks it’s probably better than saying all the other things that are on the tip of her tongue.

Azzi’s face dims at the curt reply, smile faltering as she nods, “anytime, P.”

That should be it. Paige should let her go, should be content with this small interaction that’s the most she’s gotten from outside of practice in weeks. But then the bitter words are waterfalling from her lips faster than she can stop them and despite the regret she feels immediately after, there’s a part of her that’s relieved when it makes Azzi come to a halt right in front of the door.

“Your girl played well too,” she bites out, the acidic words burning her tongue.

Azzi doesn’t turn around but Paige notices the way her shoulders go rigid, “don’t do this Paige. You know she’s not my girl.”

Paige ignores her, “11 points, 2 rebounds, 1 assist. Not bad numbers. Decent. But not better than yours of course.”

“Paige,” there's a warning note in Azzi’s voice, like she knows exactly where Paige is going with this.

“I’m just saying, “ Paige shrugs with a casualness that’s in stark contrast to the tension lingering in the air, “she’s a decent player. But you’d never be in her shadow. Never be known as just her anything.”

Azzi turns around slowly and Paige feels her anger dissipate as quickly as it had erupted when she takes in the way the brunette’s eyes are brimming with tears.

“Seriously?” Azzi grits out, “you’re seriously gonna throw that in my face right now?”

“I’m not throwing anything in your face. I’m stating a fact-”

“Oh bullshit-”

“It’s not bullshit,” Paige yells before she sucks in a sharp breath, closing her eyes to calm herself down before she continues, “it’s not bullshit,” she repeats, “it is a fact and that fact is the reason why we’re here right now.”

“What do you mean?” Azzi crosses her arms across her body.

“Nine years ago you said no-”

“Oh my god,” Azzi says exasperatedly, “we can’t keep going over this again.”

“We have to Azzi,” Paige cuts her off, “we have to because you said no. And you broke my heart and you broke my trust. And that’s why we’re here right now. That’s why I made the deal with the Liberty and that’s why I can’t let of my escape plan and that’s why I can’t promise to stay and that’s why we have to keep going over it. Because I’m trying, “her voice cracks as the first tear slides down, “god Azzi- I’m trying so fucking hard baby but how do I know you won’t say no me -to us- again?”

Azzi stares at her with an undecipherable expression, her fists clenching and unclenching by her sides. It feels like an eternity passes in between them as they look at each other, breathing heavily almost in sync, until the brunette finally speaks.

“Well how do I know you won’t leave again?”

Paige blinks in confusion, “excuse me?”

“You keep accusing me of all of these things Paige but you’re the one that keeps leaving,” Azzi says and they both know she isn’t just talking about nine years ago, “I know- I know I made a mistake. But when I said no all I asked for was a little bit of time. That’s all I asked for Paige. Time. Just like you’re asking for right now. And I know- I know we said a whole lot of shit that night -I said a bunch of fucking things I shouldn’t have- but- god Paige you didn’t even give it a day. I came to find you less than 24 hours later and you were gone,” she chokes on the last word and Paige wants nothing more than to cradle the younger woman in her arms, take away her pain and shield her from ever feeling anything like it again.

“Az-”

“And if you’d just waited -just given me a little bit of time,” Azzi continues as if she hadn’t even heard the blonde attempt to speak, “then maybe you would have known that I wasn’t saying no forever. Just for a little bit, just for then. But you just- you left.”

“You said a lot more than just no,” Paige says frustratedly.

It’s Azzi’s turn to look guilty and Paige can almost see the memories of that night flashing in her mind, “I know that but I would’ve taken it all back if you’d just waited.”

“How could I have known that?” Paige whispers and she’s not sure if she’s defending herself from Azzi or from that voice in her head -the one she’d done her best to silence- that’s always wondered if she’d made a mistake immediately leaving for Dallas the morning after.

“You couldn’t have,” Azzi says softly, sounding almost defeated, “the same way that you don’t know that I won’t say no again. The same way that I don’t know if you’ll leave again,” she sighs as she sits down next to Paige, “but that’s life Paige. We don’t know what’s gonna happen in the future and we can’t- we can’t predict what someone else will do. All we can do is try and trust ourselves and trust each other.”

“You make it sound so easy,” Paige nudges her shoulder and Azzi lets out a short laugh.

“I know it’s not. Trust me, I know it’s hard. There’s about five hundred different voices in my head saying that I should stop waiting or whatever it is I’m doing right now. That I should let you go for good. That even if you end this whole Liberty bullshit, you’ll still leave me -leave us- eventually.”

“But?” Paige presses and she feels like she’s teetering on the edge of a cliff, like the next words out of Azzi’s mouth will determine whether she falls or flies.

“But,” Azzi breathes out as she turns to look at Paige with a slightly wistful smile, “there’s this one voice in my head, clearer than all the rest that says I should trust you -that I should believe in us- that maybe we just need to get through this one last hurdle to get back to each other,” the younger woman reaches out to squeeze Paige’s hand gently before she stands up, “I think you just need to find that voice too P.”

“I’m scared Az,” Paige says softly.

“I am too,” Azzi admits as she leans down to brush the blonde’s tears away with her thumb, “trusting is really fucking scary. I get it. but maybe- maybe it would be a little less scary if we did it together.”

Paige shudders when Azzi presses a kiss to her forehead, the brunette's lips lingering long after she’s embedded every unspoken thought into it. She pulls away almost reluctantly, patting Paige’s cheeks lightly before starting to walk back towards the door.

“Azzi,” the blonde calls out, mouth going a little drying when Azzi turns over her shoulder, “don’t go to dinner with Clémence.”

Go with me. Let me take you and Stephie out to dinner instead.

“Don’t hold on to the deal with the Liberty,” Azzi says quietly in lieu of an actual answer, “say you’ll stay.”

Paige falters, “Az I-”

“I already told you P,” there’s a sad smile on Azzi’s face before she turns away, “you can have time or you can have us but you can’t have both. Not right now.

“Azzi-”

“I hope you find that voice soon Paige and I hope it leads you back to me.”

***

August 2032

Paige is standing in a corner -a dirty Shirley in her hand- cackling at a joke that Cam had just made when she sees her entering and the laughter dies in her throat. Cam notices the change immediately, her eyes tracking Paige’s gaze until they land on the brunette who’s being pulled into a series of congratulatory hugs by players from other countries.

“So where did y’all go last night?” the LA Sparks center asks casually

“What?” Paige asks distractedly, her eyes narrowing when she notices a familiar French player inching towards the door for a hug of her own.

“You and Azzi,” Cam clarifies and Paige swallows at the mention of her name, “y’all disappeared while we were all still celebrating. Lowkey felt like we were back in Belarus all over again when y’all just kept going off somewhere with each other,” the taller woman shoots Paige a teasing grin, “so where’d you go?”

“Just uh- just needed some air,” Paige bites her lip at the lie.

Because the truth is that once they’d left the hotel bar, and they’d practically pounced on each other -from the elevator till they’d made it to Paige’s hotel room- they’d barely come up for air. The feeling of each other’s lips and bare skin was more intoxicating than any drink they’d consumed -maybe even more intoxicating than the Olympic Gold medal they’d finally won together earlier that day- and neither of them seemed to care about unimportant matters such as breathing.

Cam quirks an eyebrow as she sips at her drink, “if you say so Bueckers.”

“I do say so,” Paige retorts before dislodging herself from the wall she’d been leaning against, eyes still tracking every moment Azzi made, “we should- we should go say hi.”

“We should, should we?” Cam smirks but the sweet angel she is, she falls into step easily with Paige as they start walking across the room.

The banquet hall is buzzing with players dancing and drinking and mingling with each other. Now that the basketball portion of the Olympics was over, they’d all returned from being fierce competitors playing for their country, to being the friendly co-players they all were. Laughter and chatter fills the air as teammates and rivals alike, reconnect at the FIBA-sponsored party that had almost all of the women’s basketball players participating in Bris2032 in attendance.

“Azziiii,” Cam squeals as the two of them finally reach the Valkyries superstar who’d just finished hugging Gabby.

Azzi grins when she sees Cam but it slips a little when she notices Paige next to her. She’s quick to fix it, eyes going back to Cam as she pulls the taller woman into a hug. Something pinches against Paige’s heart and she forces herself to look away; her gaze landing instead on where Gabby has walked away from the three of them to slip an arm around Marine’s waist. Paige stares wistfully at the scene -at the way Marine relaxes into Gabby’s touch as she continues whatever conversation she’d been involved in. It’s all she wants and instinctively, her eyes wander back to Azzi.

“Hey,” Paige says slowly as Azzi lets go of Cam, disappointment coursing through her veins when all she gets is a nod of acknowledgement.

“So Azzi I was just asking Paige here, where y’all disappeared to last night?” Cam asks with a teasing tone.

Azzi blanches as the question, “oh um- I- uh I wanted to go check in on Stephie.”

“And you needed Paige to come with you for that?”

A distinctly pink hue begins at the base of Azzi’s neck, climbing up until it tints her cheeks, “I was a little tipsy and uh- just wanted the support I guess.”

Paige almost snorts at the response. Azzi had been way beyond tipsy and Paige wouldn’t have been any support, considering she’d been maybe two drinks away from blacking out. But she supposes, Cam probably doesn’t need to know that and she definitely doesn’t need to know what it had led to.

“Interesting,” the taller blonde looks between the two women as she takes another sip of her drink, “Paige just said y’all needed some air.”

“I mean that- that was definitely a part of it too. The bar was getting pretty hot-” this time Paige does snort at Azzi’s answer which gets her an amused look from Cam and a very unamused look from the brunette herself.

Cam puts her hands up in surrender, “listen if Paige says y’all needed air and if you say you needed to go see Stephie, I believe you,” she says but that cheeky grin on her face says the exact opposite.

“Speaking of Stephie. It’s uh- it’s almost her bedtime and I should uh- I should call my Mom so I can say goodnight,” Azzi manages a tightlipped smile towards the two other women before she disappears into the crowd, heading towards the balcony.

Paige hesitates for a second before she turns to face Cam and that shit-eating, knowing smirk on her friend’s face almost has her giving into her pride and swallowing the words she’s about to say. Almost.

“I’m uh- I’mma go to,” she stumbles out.

“Oh of course,” Cam grins sly, “bet Azzi needs some more support huh?”

Paige shakes her head, flashing Cam her middle finger -and rolling her eyes when it causes the taller woman to laugh- as she follows after Azzi. The chill Brisbane air swarms around her as she steps out into the balcony. Azzi’s standing right by the railing, her phone held right above her as she facetimes her daughter. Paige catches on quickly to the conversation, realizing that the little girl is telling her mother about how Tim had let her have ice-cream after dinner.

“Stephanie Katarina Fudd,” Paige hears Tim’s voice echo through the phone as Stephanie’s eyes go wide on the screen, “I thought it was gonna be our little secret?”

She holds in a laugh, leaning back against the door, as the little girl splutters trying to justify her tattle-taling, “it’s Mama, Pops. I can’t hide things from my Mama.”

Tim scoffs but there’s no genuine irritation to it, “that’s the last time I give you ice-cream.”

Stephanie shoots him an unimpressed look, “you say that all the time Pops and then you give me ice-cream anyways.”

“She’s got you there,” Katie choruses from the back and Paige watches as she high-five her grand-daughter.

And she doesn’t quite know what that pang in her chest means, but she’s felt it every time she’s seen Stephani and the Fudds over the course of the Olympics. The Fudds had come to Brisbane -of course they had- and every time Paige caught sight of them in the stands or watched them from the corner of her eyes, it felt like something was stinging against her rib cage. They’d all had custom #35 Azzi jerseys and their cheers were louder than every other voice in the arena any time Team USA did anything and after each win, they’d been the first people down the stairs, ready to hug envelope Azzi in a hug. At the forefront of it was Stephanie, who’d ran into her mother’s arms at lightning quick speed and Paige had watched -hoping she was being at least somewhat conspicuous- as Azzi had spun the little girl around.

It wasn’t that the Fudds ignored Paige. In fact they’d made it a point to come over to her right after to wrap her up amidst themselves. Stephanie had come over too, her smile shy as she’d congratulated Paige on the wins. The little girl clearly didn’t quite remember their interaction from all-star last year -her eyes regarding Paige almost like a stranger- and the blonde consoles herself with the fact that Stephanie’s only four. Four year olds weren’t known for remembering things that had happened when they were three. Still, it hurt a little bit considering Paige thinks of that interaction more than she probably should.

But even though she’d still gotten the hugs and the smiles and the congratulations, it wasn’t quite the same, wasn’t anything like she’d picture during the conversations of we’ll get customized 5+35 Bueckers-Fudd jerseys for the Olympics she’d once had with Tim and Katie.

“Alright Stephie-Bean, Mama’s gonna head back into the party-” Paige refocuses on the conversation just in time to hear Azzi get cut off by her rather dramatic daughter.

“I can’t bel-ieve you went to another party without me Mama,” Stephanie drags out the words, “no Mama-good-night-kisses cause she pick party-time over Stephie time.”

The little girl’s joking but Paige can tell by the way it makes Azzi pause for a second -her shoulder stiffening just a little bit- that it’s hit a nerve. She wants to soothe it away, wants to wrap her arms around her from behind, hitch her chin over her neck and take away all of Azzi’s worries. And that bitter thought -the one that seems to surface every time her heart beats a little faster for the brunette, the one that had filled her head when she’d woken up next to the younger woman earlier this morning- takes birth in her head again. The thought she could have done all of that -would have the right to do it- if only Azzi had just said yes.

“I’ll make it up to you Stephie-bean,” she hears Azzi promise, “tomorrow, just you and me okay sweetheart? All of my time’s gonna be yours.”

Stephanie’s face immediately brightens up, “okay Mama,” she says happily as she blows a kiss to the screen, “love you Mama. Good night.”

“Good night sweet girl. I love you more,” Azzi choruses back, waving at the screen before she cuts the call.

It takes her a moment to turn around and Paige watches as Azzi takes in a deep breath, a subtle smile on her face as she takes in the Brisbane skyline. When she does finally turn around, surprise filters onto her expression at seeing the blonde standing there.

“Hey,” Paige whispers nervously, stuffing her hands into the pocket of her pants.

Azzi looks at her for a moment, “hi.”

They stand there rigidly, letting the tension -a completely different kind than the one that had encompassed them last night- simmer between them. It’s almost like they're daring each other to say something, to address the elephant in the room.

Azzi breaks first, “something you wanted to say?”

“Just wanted some air,” Paige says, cringing a little bit at the cliché line that she’s now used twice in one night.

“Right,” Azzi nods, moving towards the door, “guess I’ll leave you to it then.”

Her voice is tinged with an iciness that sets Paige on edge. They haven’t been like this in a while and she’d thought they’d let go of the resentful exes gimmick they’d had going on for the first couple of years. But the hardness in Azzi’s tone suggests that it’s back with vengeance tonight.

“Az-” Paige calls out.

“What?” Azzi asks loudly, biting her lip when the harshness of it almost makes the blonde stumble back, “sorry I-”

But before she can apologize, Paige finds herself retaliating with the same hardness in her own tone, “what’s your fucking problem?”

“My problem?” Azzi reels back, eyes flashing with anger, “are you seriously asking me that?”

“Yes. That’s clearly what I asked,” Paige retorts.

Azzi laughs devoid of emotion, “I woke up to an empty bed this morning and you’re asking me what my fucking problem is?”

Guilt inches it’s way up Paige’s spine but it pales in comparison to the anger that flickers in the pit of her stomach, “oh that’s rich coming from you.”

“Excuse me?”

“Is that not exactly what you did last time we fucked,” the profanity tastes acetous as it falls through Paige’s lips because it sounds wrong, like she’s insulting the sanctity of their relationship, no matter how broken it might be.

“No it’s not,” Azzi nostrils flare, “I told you I was leaving. I had the common fucking decency to let you know. I didn’t just sneak out.”

Paige rolls her eyes, “oh spare me the semantics. It’s all the same shit at the end of the day. We both left.”

“Oh fuck you Paige,” Azzi snarls as she tries to leave but Paige is quicker, fingers wrapping around her wrist to stop her.

And everything she’d been prepared to say dies in her throat because now they’re too close, chests heaving in harmony as their matching glares turn into something else. Paige’s eyes fall to Azzi’s lips, breath hitching when the brunette’s tongue darts out for a second to wet them. She tugs on Azzi’s wrist experimentally, pleased when there’s little hesitation and the younger woman lets herself be pulled closer. The air is electric with want as they lean in slowly, their noses brushing against each other as they wait for each other to make a move, to close the distance.

But then there’s the sound of someone clearing their throat, followed by someone else coughing and the two of them spring apart like they’ve been burned.

“Jesus Az, careful!” Jana’s concerned voice makes Paige’s ears perk up and she follows the Egyptians line of sight to see that Azzi had moved back so fast that she’d fallen back against the balcony railing.

“I’m fine,” Azzi says hurriedly but the shake in her voice betrays that she’s anything but.

“Are you?” Paige turns to find Aaliyah watching them with the wary gaze of someone who’s been around them and their bullshit far too long, “because uh- we can hear y’all yelling from inside.”

Azzi’s eyes shoot up, panic evident on her face, “you heard us? Did you- could you hear what we said?”

Paige scoffs loudly, “oh right yeah because that would be really fucking bad wouldn’t be it Azzi? God forbid anyone found out you fucked me.”

And she doesn’t even know why she’s arguing -honestly she’s just as embarrassed at the idea of their teammates and rivals and everyone else in between actually overhearing their argument- but it pinches a nerve and she pointedly looks away from Azzi’s ashen face.

“You guys fucked?” Paige flinches at how loud Jana is and Aaliyah lets out a low groan.

“Jana,” the Canadian warns, pinching the bridge of her nose.

“Sorry but like,” Jana looks back and forth between Paige and Azzi, dropping her voice, “y’all fucked?”

Paige sighs, feeling drained as she leans back against a pillar for support, “that’s what I said yes.”

If possible, Jana’s eyes get even wider, “so- so what does that mean for the two of you? Are you- are y’all gonna get back together?”

Azzi looks at Paige.

Paige looks at Azzi.

And it’s like they’re both imploring each other to answer Jana’s question and to answer it right.

“It means nothing,” it’s the wrong answer and Paige knows it even before she says it -can tell by the way Azzi barely reacts that she knows Paige doesn’t even really believe herself- but she thinks maybe they’re not quite ready to get it right. Not yet.

“Well there you go,” Azzi says quietly, shrugging nonchalantly at Jana, “it means nothing.”

Paige flinches at the repetition of her own words, looking away as Azzi starts walking towards the door again. The brunette’s shoulder brushes against the older woman’s -sparks igniting around them- and she hesitates.

“It means nothing,” Azzi repeats, her voice a longing whisper only meant for Paige’s ears, “but maybe it could’ve meant something. If you’d stayed.”

***

June 2033

Paige is sulking in her room -watching film to distract herself from the images of Clémence, Azzi and Stephie together from last night that her brain is hellbent on conjuring up- when her pity party is broken up by the sound of her doorbell. She has the urge to ignore it, to stay curled up in the same position she’s been in all day. It’s a rather pathetic way to have spent one of her rare days off but it’s the only thing she’d felt like doing. But then whoever’s outside her door starts to press the bell longer and Paige huffs -irritated by the loudness of it- as she forces herself out of bed.

She’s not sure who she was expecting. Perhaps Jana, who’d caught on rather quickly to what was happening between her two former teammates and had been making somewhat of an attempt to help fix it. Maybe Colleen, here to knock some sense into her on Azzi’s behalf. Or maybe even Tessa, who Paige had learned in the most awkward way, knew about them when the former Gamecock had made a teasing remark about the two of them the next practice, not knowing what had transpired two nights before. When both Paige and Azzi had immediately tensed, instead of blushing or rolling their eyes, Tessa had been perceptive enough to understand something had gone wrong. She’d been trying to help Jana ever since and Paige half expects it to be her at the door with words of wisdom and comfort alike.

Who she isn’t expecting is Tim Fudd.

His wife, she would’ve understood. After all Katie had done exactly that before and it was in the older woman’s nature to meddle just a little bit. Her husband, on the other hand, tended to stay as far out of things as possible. He could be a hovering coach and whenever Azzi’s spirits were low, he’d be there with a ridiculous dad joke and arms outstretched for a big bear hug. But when it came to his daughter’s personal life, Tim Fudd did his best not to interfere.

Tim smiles at Paige when she opens the door, one hand holding up a bottle of whiskey with a grin on his face while his other hand is hidden behind his back. He rolls his eyes fondly when he notices the skeptical look Paige shoots at his liquor of choice before he reveals the premade bottle of dirty Shirley he’s been hiding behind his back.

“Tsk tsk,” he grins mockingly, “what would the fans say if they knew their big bad rizzler can’t drink anything but a sweet cocktail?”

Paige shakes her head as she steps aside to let the man inside, “just cause I don’t drink cheap whiskey, doesn’t mean I don’t drink anything other than cocktails.”

“Cheap?!” Tim guffaws as the accusation, “I’ll have you know this is a Macallan.”

“You know that hat means nothing to me right,” Paige says as she follows his lead into her kitchen.

It’s almost foreign having somebody else in her space. Since Drew had left -rather hesitantly after seeing his sister’s condition- the house had been devoid of anyone else but Paige. Jana had tried to invite herself over a couple of times but it had gone in vain when Paige had chosen solitude over any company. It’s not that she particularly wants to be alone, it’s that she thinks -no, she knows- that there’s only two people who can cure this dreadful loneliness that feels like it’s become an innate part of existence.

“Sit,” Tim says as he rummages through Paige’s cupboards for two glasses.

Hesitating for a split second, Paige does as she's told, “did Azzi send you?”

“Are you hoping she did?’ Tim asks pointedly as he places two glasses one top of the counter, filling one with whiskey and other with dirty Shirley.

Paige swallows as she accepts the drink from his hand, “nah,” lies, “ just uh- just feels like something she’d do.”

Tim looks at her for a minute as he takes a sip of his whiskey.

“She didn’t send me,” he says finally and Paige tries to mask the tinge of disappointment his words send through her by taking a large swig of her shirley.

“This tastes like shit,” she grimaces, wiping her mouth with the back of hand.

“That premade stuff usually does. It’s that easy shit you know? The things that just exist without you doing any work. Just doesn’t hit the same as the harder stuff,” Tim says slowly as he leans back against his chair, a clear double meaning in his words.

“You’re using alcohol as a metaphor? So I guess Katie sent you then?” Paige manages a half-smile but she feels her stomach churn at the implication of what he’d just said.

Tim laughs, “it was my idea actually.”

“Her meddling rubbing off on you?” Paige quirks an eyebrow.

Tim shakes his head, “I’m not here to meddle. Just wanted to tell you a story.”

Paige sighs, “so you are here to meddle then.”

Tim ignores her, fiddling with the glass of whiskey in his hands, “did you know Katie and I almost didn’t end up together?”

Paige stares at the older man in shock. Maybe she shouldn’t be so surprised; relationships were complicated after all. But for all the years she’d known Tim and Katie, they’d always been just that. TimAndKatie. The epitome of stableness that had stood strong amongst all the other relationships Paige had watched break down one by one.

“Don’t look so shocked,” Tim says lightly when he notices how wide Paige’s eyes have gotten, “everyone makes mistakes. We’re all capable of doing dumb shit that almost makes us lose everything we’ve ever loved.”

Paige gulps, “what- what did you do?”

“I left,” Tim says slowly.

“You left?” the familiar words make Paige nauseous and she wonders if that slightly regretful look on Azzi’s dad’s face is echoed on her own.

“It was a couple months into our relationship and Katie and I had a huge fight. It was about her not letting me make a decision about Azzi,” Tim explains and the similarity of the situation almost makes Paige want to block her ears.

“It was something small, something stupid. Probably nothing that even mattered cause I don’t even remember it. But I remember how I felt. I was really fucking mad but more than anything I think- I think I was scared. Because that argument, it was a remind that even though I loved her so fucking much, Azzi wasn’t mine. Not yet. And that if I lost Katie, I’d lose her too. The idea of losing Katie was scary enough but losing both of them? I didn’t know how to deal with that,” Tim's voice shakes, like he’s relieving his biggest fears and Paige feels her own eyes start to water; his words settling salt in her still-raw open wounds.

“And it got so heated and we were yelling all this bullshit at each other that eventually I just- I didn’t know what else to do and I just- I started to leave. And Azzi- I guess we were so loud we woke her up- she- she saw me leaving,” there’s an unfamiliar grave look on the normally jovial old man’s face as he reminisces that night, “she ran down the stairs and threw herself at my knees begging me not to go but I- I was so mad and so fucking scared that I walked away anyways.”

“How- how did you fix it?” Paige asks, her voice almost pleading as she wipes away the droplets of water running freely down her cheeks.

“Well not immediately that’s for sure,” Tim cracks a smile, trying to lighten the mood, “took me a little bit of time to pull my head out of my ass and when I finally did, Katie wasn’t so quick to forgive me for it either. And it wasn’t about her or me or us, it was about Azzi. The first time I showed up, she didn’t even let me in. Said she could only let me through that door again if I could promise to stay. Because Azzi had seen me leave once and she wasn’t gonna let her see it again.”

“It must’ve killed you,” Paige whispers, her stomach twisting in knots, “the guilt of hurting her.”

Tim nods, “it did but I think- or at least I hope I’ve made up for it now.”

“You have,” Paige reaches over to squeeze his arm gently, “how did you get her to forgive you?”

“Simple,” Tim places his own hand over hers as he continues, “we talked it out. I explained all my fears to her. How scared I was of losing her, of losing Azzi. And she- she understood because she was scared too, scared of losing me, scared of Azzi losing me. In the end we were both scared of the same thing but all of that got a whole lot less scary when we faced it together.”

Maybe it would be a little less scary if we did it together

“How did you get over it,” Paige asks, almost desperately, “the fear of losing them? How did you move past that?”

Tim smiles wistfully, “time. Not time apart but time together. It wasn’t easy taking that first step, facing that fear but I knew if I wanted them, it was what I was gonna have to do. And I had to trust Katie, that if I stayed, she’d stay.”

“And she stayed,” Paige says softly.

“Yeah she did,” this time, Tim’s grin breaks through his entire, “and the more time she stayed, the more my trust in her grew until one day I just knew. I knew she wasn’t gonna leave ever again. Well, maybe she’s thought about it a couple of times like when I nearly burnt the house down tryna make cookies or when I accidentally tore a hole in our wall tryna hang up a photo frame.

Paige lets out a watery laugh as Tim winks at her, everything suddenly seeming a lot more simple than it had before the older man had walked through her door.

“I know it’s not quite the same for you and Azzi,” Tim continues slowly, “you guys have a history that Katie and I didn’t. You both have more reasons to be scared than the two of us did. But Paige, I’ve always thought you were it for my baby girl. From the moment she came back from USA camp and all she could talk about was you, I just knew.”

Paige can’t help the broken sob that escapes her lips and Tim immediately rounds the kitchen counter to wrap an arm around her shoulder.

“When she was pregnant with Stephie, she kept on asking for mint-choc chip ice cream. Said it was a craving or something. And she decorated everything for her in purple. All the baby clothes she bought were shades of purple,” he doesn’t quite say why Azzi did all of that but there’s a clear implication in his words.

And Paige thinks that probably, why she and Stephie are so similar, why they shared so many favorites, why the little girl had always felt like hers. Because Azzi had given a part of Paige to her daughter, even when she hadn’t had Paige herself.

“Katie and Azzi, they’re mine but I think- I think if maybe someone else had gotten to them first -someone who loved them just as much as I do- maybe there’s a chance things would be different but Paige,” Tim squeezes the younger woman gently, “I think Azzi’s always been waiting for you. Subconsciously at least. There’s never really been anybody elese for her. Her and Stephie, they’ve both always been waiting for you, they’ve both always been yours.”

“You mean that?” Paige asks croakily and she feels like she’s a teenager again, asking Tim to pinky promise that he’d like her box-dyed purple hair no matter what.

“I do,” Tim smiles as he looks at her, “and I think they’ll be yours forever. I think they want to be. You just have to say you’ll stay.”

#pazzi #azzi fudd #paige bueckers #wcbb

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furiosophie · 2 days ago

Text

What were you going to say to me? Jayce wants to demand, a million times. That night under the rubble together was the only time Viktor ever tried to talk to him, dying. Jayce, I — what? — but he bites his tongue. It’s enough to spend his rare restful nights in Viktor’s bed, swathed in his smell, that cold nose buried against his bare chest and that bony body bundled up in his arms. Jayce sleeps — not without nightmares but certainly with fewer than before — and he’s pretty sure Viktor sleeps too. He seems better-rested, at least. Steadier.

It’s strange, when Jayce slows down to think about it, how well Viktor is taking all of this. Jayce knows that he’s not the same man Viktor remembers — how could he be, having lost him? — but Viktor seems remarkably unaffected for a man who’s died every day for the last fifty. Jayce sometimes has to excuse himself from the lab to go splash water on his face, just to stop from having a panic attack at the memory of his own death, of Viktor’s; but his partner never falters, never mentions any of it except obliquely — what happened yesterday, the way we went that morning we stayed in bed — never wakes with a sharp inhalation the way Jayce does almost every time they sleep.

run it back

by spqr / @andthepeople

ship: jayce talis/viktor

words: 11,223 (completed)

tags: time loop, fix it but fix it by making it worse, sharing a bed, angst with a happy ending, friends to lovers, temporary (and repeated) character death, not beta read, sentence structure? i don't know her

#jayvik #jayce talis #viktor arcane #jayvik fic #arcane #PLS GOOD GOD GO READ THIS IT'S SO GOOD!!!!!!!#and then when ur done go read 'uncover him' by spqr bc that is just as good!!!!!!!!#spqr never misses and that is a fact #soph arts #id in alt text #SRLY GO READ IT ‼️‼️‼️

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exocaliii · 2 days ago

Text

❦︎ And You Look Half Dead Half The Time

(pt. 1) (pt. 2)

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

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

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

Word Count: 6.2k

Warnings: death, violence, angst, hurt/comfort, smut, making-out, fingering + cunnilingus (r! receiving), bathroom sex, one use of Y/N even though I tried my best to avoid it lol, extreme jealousy/possessiveness, no-eul is not playing about her girl in this one LOL

A/N: finally reached the romance stuff in this one but there's still some build-up of course, hope you all enjoy and as always, i appreciate any type of feedback or comments, they make the writing worth it!! :D this is so self indulgent omg

—

When the platform begins to spin, you feel a firm grip on your hand, looking up to find Se-mi already staring at you with a calm expression on her face.

“Stick with me.”

You nod, and before you’re able to check on Min-su, you’re nearly thrown off your feet by the sudden stop of the surface you’re on.

“10 players.”

The boom of the announcer clears your senses, and as Thanos and Nam-gyu laugh and spin, you see another group of five waving their hands for more people. You shout at the loudest volume you’ve used since arriving here for them to come over, and with a tight grip on Se-mi’s hand, you drag her to the open room right across the arena. Thanos, Nam-gyu, and Min-su (who you can now see was hiding behind Se-mi) follow right along, and, thank goodness, the other team of 5 do the same.

“Are you okay?” You don’t respond to Se-mi's question because the answer should be obvious with the way you’re trembling, but she only nods in understanding. “Just stay calm, it’ll be fine.” You want to believe her, you truly do, but you see Min-su’s fear, and in that moment, you accept that this may be the game that kills you.

The lock clicks open.

Your group of ten steps out, stepping over the blood of those who lost the last round.

You want to retch, but you stay focused and get back on the platform.

With your hand in Se-mi’s, you block out the happy singing of Thanos and Nam-gyu, opting instead to pat Min-su’s back when you see him basically shaking like a leaf. He jumps, but turns to you with a grateful look in his eye. You pray that he lives, because someone like him should not die in a cold place like this.

“4 players.”

Your heart drops. Thanos glances back and forth between the three of you as Nam-gyu stands at his side. Your heart feels heavy in your chest, and your legs are stiff, ready to run. His eyes stop on Min-su, and you know what’s about to happen.

“You-”

“I’ll go.”

Se-mi barely has a chance to react before you rip your hand from hers and run to find another group. Somewhere in the bustle of the crowd, you swear you hear her call your name, but you’re too locked onto three men in the distance. They’re already in the room, but they’re calling for a fourth person. Fear threatens to strangle you as you run over, the countdown playing loud in the overhead speaker. Their eyes are desperate, arms open to beckon you over to save both your life and theirs.

At the last second, you basically ram into one of the men as you barrel into the room, one of them slamming it shut behind you not even a second before the lock clicks. No one speaks as shots ring out from outside the room, and you begin to come to terms with your act of sacrifice for someone you had just met yesterday.

Fuck, what were you thinking? Are you in this to win or not?

The lock clicks open, and you all step outside. There’s even more fresh blood on the ground, blood that you ignore as your eyes search the arena for your old group.

“Y/N!”

You spin fast enough to snap your neck at the sound of her voice, and Se-mi runs over to you followed by the rest of the group. You think she’s about to hug you but she stops just short of it, arms lowering back to her side awkwardly before she resigns to grabbing you by the shoulders instead. For a second, you stare at each other in silence, neither knowing what to say.

“Oh shit, that was too cool girl.” Thano’s voice ruins the moment, but before you all begin heading back to the platform, you hear a soft voice from behind Se-mi.

“Thank you.”

Min-su meekly looks at you with obvious guilt, and Se-mi drops her hands from your shoulders to take your hand as you all walk back towards the center. It’s comforting to have her hand in yours again (especially after you almost died letting go of it).

“It’s fine, I already saw the other group before leaving.” Obvious lie, but he didn’t need to know that.

As you all begin to spin again, Se-mi gives your hand a short squeeze before looking down at you with a gentle smile that, as always, almost looks like a smirk.

“I was right about you.” You chuckle at this and turn away to hide your reddened face, but of course, the moment doesn’t last very long.

“3 players.”

The three of you barely spare a glance at Thanos and Nam-gyu before you grab each other’s hands and run off, hearing the rapper scream a curse at your betrayal. You almost want to laugh, but you’re too focused on holding onto Se-mi and Min-su’s hands for dear life as you run towards one of the few open rooms still available.

They’re filling up too quickly, and out of the corner of your eye, you see two other groups scrambling towards the one room you have your sights set on. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you come to the horrifying realization that groups of three might be too small to fit everyone that was still alive, even if they were all paired up. The thought makes your legs move that much faster, but just as you’re about to reach your safe haven, a body collides with yours and sends you flying towards the floor.

10 seconds left.

“Min-su?!” He was on your left, but where is he?

7 seconds left.

“Get up, get inside the room!” Se-mi. You’re pretty sure it’s her rough hands that grab your sweater and pull you up.

5 seconds left.

“Where is he?! Min-su!” You stumble over your feet, your mind reeling as you’re bouncing back and forth between trying to find him and trying to follow Se-mi into the room.

3 seconds left.

“Wait! Wait, please help me!” He’s half on the ground, half fighting against a man trying to get up in front of him to enter a room to your right. You’re already in yours, and an arm wrapped tight around your waist prevents you from running out to save his life once again.

1 second left.

“Let go! Min-su!”

The buzzer sounds right as the door slams shut in your face.

The lock clicks shut.

Somewhere outside, you hear gunfire and the desperate cries of men and women who failed.

For a second, you think you can hear him begging for his life, but then a single shot rings out and his fate is sealed.

—

Somewhere in the haze of emotions, you continue to grasp onto her arm like a lifeline. Your head rings, and you don’t even hear the announcer’s call for each of the next two rounds. It’s Se-mi who makes sure you’re right next to her the entire time, no matter which group you join or which room you scramble into. She doesn’t bother to ask if you’re okay (because it is extremely obvious this time, with tear tracks on your cheeks and shallow eyes staring into the distance), but her firm hold on you still shows her underlying care. That, and the slight shake of her body reminds you that despite her previous bravado and confidence, she’s still human just like you.

When the game ends, you step over the blood of the losers to make it back to the main room (you wonder if you had stepped on Min-su’s as well - the thought of it makes you sick to your stomach).

Thanos greets the two of you with excitement even after you left him and Nam-gyu in the dust, but you don’t even have it in you to entertain his antics now. Your head was pounding, and the only thing keeping you from curling up into a ball on the spot was Se-mi’s arm around your shoulders; she was holding onto you like you would curl up and die if she let go, which you might.

When you both settle into her bed, you really begin to feel the weight of his absence.

“I’m sorry for grabbing you like that,” she says, her voice quiet as if you were a deer about to sprint away. “...You wouldn’t have made it in time-”

“I know.” You’re curt, almost rude, and you feel bad immediately for your outburst. It wasn’t her fault, you reminded yourself. It wasn’t her fault that your first selfless moment in this hellhole means nothing now. “I… I’m sorry. You saved my life. Thank you.”

“You don’t have to thank me for that.” Her hand caresses yours, soothing you into finally allowing your tense body to relax.

Something about her gentle demeanor coaxes out a more peaceful side in you, and you lean your head on her shoulder. You’re pleasantly surprised at her lack of resistance, and something in your gut burns when she leans her head right back on yours.

For a second, you think about No-eul and feel a strange amount of guilt creeping up on you, but Se-mi changes her grip on your hand slightly to interlace your fingers and it all goes away. You owe nothing to her. Companionship isn’t something she should bar you from looking for when you face death at her hands everyday now.

What’s so wrong with finding your own comfort in the beautiful, kind, and unexpectedly soft woman sitting next to you?

—

350 million won.

It’s enough for those smugglers, enough for her, and so, it’s enough for you to change your vote.

When red LEDs light up your face and you begin exchanging your blue patch for a red one, you feel the weight of the entire situation crashing down on you.

You chose life this time. From now on, if you die, it won’t be of your own volition anymore. This fact disturbs you greatly, so you’re quick in pushing through the crowd to get right back to Se-mi’s side. You’re glad she chose to live too. If you made it out of here, you wouldn’t want to lose contact with her. Trauma bonds are pretty strong apparently.

—

When two groups of men start walking out of the bathrooms covered in blood and money begins to fill the pig again, you shuffle a bit closer to Se-mi, and her grip on your hand tightens.

Supposedly it was a brawl, and from the frantic head counts of both sides, the O’s had lost one extra man. The sight of a bloody Nam-gyu shuffling onto Thano’s bed, shaking from the drugs with a frantic, bloodthirsty look in his eyes made your stomach drop. Now, there was no idiotic rapper to take hold of his leash, and you were sure he would want to kill you two after you turned your backs on him twice.

The cold steel of the fork you took from dinner provided a comforting weight inside your pocket.

“Se-mi.” She turns towards you.

“Yeah?”

“Sleep on this side tonight, okay?” Your grip on her arm is tight and you know you must look completely shaken by now, but she still gives her signature confident smirk.

“Sure, but you better make it worth my while.”

Your face goes red and you scoff, making her chuckle. God, you’re glad you have someone like this by your side.

—

When the screams begin, you immediately dig into your pocket and pull out your makeshift weapon. You want to call out for her, but you’re terrified that if you make a single noise, you and her will be swarmed by the wolves tearing apart the people all around you.

Where the fuck are the guards?! No, who are you kidding, of course they would sit by and let you kill each other. Probably the highlight of their night. Under the fear, you feel so much anger and pain at the situation that you can barely focus.

No-eul’s face flashes in your mind once again but now, you’re beginning to struggle to differentiate her from the other murderers all around you.

No, no, no. You can’t think that way. She’s not like any of them.

“You traitor bitch!” You turn your head down to look for the familiar voice, and to your utter horror, Nam-gyu is standing right below you. Across from him (and cornered against the wall) is Se-mi. Even with the strobing lights, you can see the intense fear under her angry expression. “I’m gonna fucking gut you!”

When he charges at her, you make one of the easiest choices of your entire life and roll off the side of the bunk.

You nearly miss your landing, but your fork doesn’t and his scream of pain reveals that instantly. You take both him and yourself to the ground, but your heart is racing and you can still feel him bucking from beneath you, so you don’t get a chance to breathe before yanking the fork out of his shoulder and slamming it back down into the side of his neck. The feeling of it sinking it and spraying your hand with hot blood is sickening beyond belief, but you block out everything except the feeling of his squirming beneath you and raise the metal above your head again.

You aren’t sure how many times you bring it down on him, but a body colliding into yours knocks you out of your spiral.

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” Se-mi’s voice barely comprehends in your ears, but you can feel her arms around you clearly. “He’s dead, it’s okay, we’re okay.” Her hand rubs your back soothingly, and only then do you realize there are tears pouring down your cheeks.

Your chest heaves as you openly sob, clinging to her like a lifeline and unintentionally smearing the back of her sweater with Nam-gyu’s blood. You shut out everything but her voice, and even when the guards enter and fire into the air, you don’t find yourself flinching once, simply dropping to the floor still in her arms.

—

When some of the players gun down all the guards in the room, you hide in the corner with Se-mi (who was still whispering comforting words into your ears). You watch as players 120 and 456 take center stage in the room, shutting down the last bits of the riot and forcing the one square-mask guard onto his knees. They call for others to join them, others with military experience or even those with the faintest idea of how to use a gun.

Of course, you had military experience right alongside No-eul, but the ache in your body and the tight grip Se-mi has on you keeps you from getting up. Your head pounds and spins as your eyes begin trailing around the slaughterhouse of a room.

Dead people in green, dead people in pink. Your eyes linger on the guards and their triangle-masks, immediately recalling the shape No-eul had on hers.

What if…

No.

The moment the team of rebels leaves, you go to get up but a tight grip on your forearm drags you right back down.

“Hey, hey, where are you going?” Her eyes are confused but her voice is just as gentle as it’s been the entire time she sat there combing her fingers through your hair and whispering about how brave you were and how thankful she was. “Talk to me please, what’s wrong?”

“I just need to check something, that’s all.” She doesn’t look satisfied, but Se-mi lets you get up after you give her a brisk hug and a strained smile.

With a shaky breath, you begin to make your rounds. You can feel the eyes on you as you walk up the first guard and pull off their mask, letting out a quiet sigh of relief at the lack of familiarity in their dead eyes.

With each one, you grow more and more tense, steeling yourself for the possibility of seeing No-eul’s empty, dead eyes staring back at you.

It would be the thing that kills you. The loss of your reason to fight in the first place.

Kneeling down next to the final guard, you can barely breathe as your fingers brush against the edge of their mask. Your hands are shaking so bad and you curse yourself for your sudden lack of strength. You would die if it was her. You would pull that fork out of Nam-gyu’s neck and jam it in your own if it was her.

Shutting your eyes tightly, you tug it off and let it clatter to the side. Your breathing slows when you peek and immediately recognize the face as belonging to a younger man’s, not your No-eul.

Please God, give me this one thing and let her live. Let us leave with my blood money and never come back.

—

You can’t even feel joy or disappointment when the rebellion inevitably ends in a whimper.

456 is dragged in and from a quick glance around the room, you see that 001 and 390 are missing as well. 120 and 388 sit dejectedly not too far away from you, and you can’t help but feel for them; they were people, far stronger than you, that failed to be the heroes. You can’t judge them, you never even considered fighting alongside these brave people in the first place.

Now that everything has calmed down again and lights-out happens like every other night and not the bloodbath that ensued earlier, you’re far more aware of the sticky feeling of blood on your skin. Your sweater even feels slightly heavier, the entire front of it stained with deep red fluid.

“I-I need to wash this off.” Se-mi, who was almost drifting off next to you, shoots awake and gets up right behind you.

“I’ll come with you.” It’s an unspoken fact that she definitely would, but you’re still happy at the confirmation.

In the haze of everything that’s occurred, you completely forget that No-eul has been the only reason you’ve been able to get into the bathroom these days, and the only reason she lets you in is because you’re you. So, when you call out and the door opens as usual, you’re confused at her stiff posture. However, after a weird awkward silence, she steps aside to let both you and Se-mi in, almost slamming the door behind you two.

—

No-eul’s eyes trail you two as you enter the bathroom together, and she can barely control herself from charging in there and kicking 380 out altogether; she had warned you about people like her, so what were you still doing clinging to her side like that? Moreover, seeing the blood practically covering your entire front was like a gut punch.

She should’ve been there. She should’ve blown the heads off of whoever did that to you. She’s been careless, and she understands that now.

The worst she felt was during the Mingle game. Each time she had been sent in, her breath would hitch and she would hesitate for a few seconds at the entrance, eyes scanning the wide open area for any signs of you. Every single time she failed to spot the number 037 on the clothes of those she shot, a weight would be lifted off of her shoulders.

After the final round, the room doors had opened just before she was able to leave through the soldier’s door. She takes the chance to search for your kind face, and instead is faced with the sight of you practically hanging off of 380, a lost, soulless look in your eyes. Pain for your sadness mixes with some other ugly emotion, and for a second, she lets herself imagine how your expression would change if she sent a bullet through 380’s heart.

Would you cry out for that woman, or would you call No-eul’s name out of instinct, like a lost animal begging for comfort?

In the end, she simply leaves with her fellow soldiers, silently cursing herself for such a violent thought.

—

As you scrub the blood off your face, neck, and hands, you do your best to not let your gaze drift back over to Se-mi. She finishes cleaning up long before you, and you can feel her eyes on you as you scrub away. But no matter how hard you seem to scratch at your hands, the faint red tint just won’t come out. Your breathing grows heavy, and you begin to rub at it harder with the soap.

Your hands are still red.

The blood from his neck covers your hands, the sounds, the sounds-

“That’s good enough,” a soft voice sounds from beside you, gently taking your hands in hers as you shake.

“No, no, there’s still blood, I-, there’s still…” You turn your hands this way and that, examining them and the red tint you can’t seem to get rid of.

“It’s not blood, you’ve just been rubbing too hard…” She shushes you gently and her thumbs begin tracing circles on your raw palms. “I’m sorry you had to do that, I really am.”

You can only shake your head and press your face in the crook of her neck. It’s a familiar position, one you were in only last night but with a completely different woman. She’s just as soft as No-eul, but she doesn’t wrap her arms around your body and pull you close. Instead, her fingers find the zipper of your bloodied sweater and gently begin to pull it down. The motion makes you back away a little, and she lets your sweater fall to the ground after tugging it off you.

It’s freeing without the weight of all that blood on you, and your heart swells when she takes off her own jacket to put it on you. This is the kind of care you rarely find yourself receiving, and whenever you did, it was usually by the hand of only one other person. You would have never expected the cocky, confident girl you met two days ago would become this important to you.

You were right about her. Se-mi was the ever genuine, ever caring woman you hoped she was after your first real conversation together, and you wonder if the world finally decided to go easy on you for once by sending you a beacon of strength in the middle of this hellhole.

“Thank you, Se-mi,” you breathe out, the feeling of her fingertips grazing the skin of your arms still present long after her hands have dropped back to her side.

She doesn’t respond. Her gaze is still heavy on you, but this time, you hold eye contact and let yourself drown in her eyes. For a split second, you’re sure you see them dart down to your lips, and you think she might just eat you alive with the way she’s examining you.

In an act that surprises even yourself, it’s you who leans forward and presses your lips against hers. Cliche fireworks don’t go off, but the second she reciprocates by grabbing the back of your neck to deepen the kiss, you feel the tension between you two finally reach a high point, and it’s euphoric.

You hold each other with pure, unadulterated desire as one of her hands travel down to your waist, pulling you in. The kiss deepens and somewhere in the back of your mind, you think of No-eul. She was right outside that door, what if you were caught?

What the hell are you thinking about right now?

“You’re beautiful, so perfect,” she whispers, and her words make your heart beat that much faster. “My brave girl.” Se-mi breaks the kiss to press her lips against your neck now instead, drawing a moan from deep in your throat. She’s still holding onto you like her life depends on it.

Unfortunately, your mind is still whirling and you have to remind yourself once again that you owe No-eul absolutely nothing. She shouldn’t and wouldn’t be angry over you finding someone to love, who loved you in a place like this. Is it wrong to search for comfort when you’re so sure you might die tomorrow? Especially from someone like Se-mi, who has done nothing but protect you and care for you.

Your hands tangle in her hair as she slides a hand beneath your shirt-

“Player 380.”

You spin around as the door slams open, a gruff voice making you jump apart from Se-mi. You shouldn’t feel ashamed, but you do, especially when you can feel No-eul’s eyes trailing up and down your disheveled form, and you know she knows exactly what happened here.

“Get back to the room.” You look down to see her revolver gripped tightly in her hand, as if she’s fighting the urge to lift it.

“Just give us a couple more-”

“Now.” She practically growls out that last word, and you can hear a click in the silent bathroom as she loads her revolver at her side.

Se-mi is brave, but she’s still smart enough to realize that she’s being threatened and would not win a fight against the taller woman with a loaded gun. WIth her head held high, she takes your hand and begins walking around the guard, but No-eul steps in her way and shakes her head.

“037 stays.” You all pause, and Se-mi grips your hand tighter.

“What? What the fuck are you on about? Just let us go back to the room-”

“She stays. Now get out before I make you.” No-eul takes a step forward, hand raising to point the barrel of the gun in Se-mi’s face.

It’s difficult to hold herself back when she’s this close to doing what she wants with this random woman who’s begun impeaching on her world. The barrier holding you and No-eul together, apart from everyone else, has been disrupted, and she begins to wonder if you’ll actually hate her if she pulls the trigger now. She wants to, especially hearing you fucking moan for this woman.

Where else has she touched you?

Her trigger finger twitches.

“It’s okay, Se-mi,” you whisper, breaking your gaze from No-eul to look over at her.

First name basis? You really want her to kill this woman.

“Just go, I’ll see you in a bit.”

Se-mi looks at you, confusion apparent in her features, but your face is perfectly calm and even though that disturbs her a little, she accepts it. She’ll trust you to stay alive with this psycho.

“Okay, just call out for me if you need anything.” No-eul scoffs at this, earning a glare from Se-mi before she walks out the bathroom. She spares you one final glance over her shoulder, and with a nod from you, she exits.

“What the fuck is wrong with you, huh?!” You’re practically burning with anger at her behavior, but No-eul ignores your outburst and walks over to the door, turning the latch to lock it before turning back around to look at you. “You think ‘cause you have that mask on you can just go around pointing your gun at everyone?!”

“And what the hell were you doing?” She pulls her mask off, throwing it to the floor before pulling down her face covering. Now, you can actually see the anger simmering beneath her eyes, an accusatory look on her face as she steps closer. “Were you planning on having sex with her or something? This stranger you just met?”

Your face begins to burn for a different reason now.

“That’s… that’s none of your business. I’m a grown woman, I can decide what I want to do or not do.” Your voice is far too unsure and she laughs sarcastically. Running a hand through her sweaty hair, she approaches to stand right in front of you. Your breathing slows as her eyes trail down your face, locking onto the number 380 right above your heart. Her lips curl into a frown and she grabs Se-mi’s sweater, looking like she wanted to burn a hole through the number on your chest.

To her, it’s a reminder of her failure to protect you as she swore she always would, and now, in the wake of this failure, another person has come along and threatened to take her place - a place in your life she would kill anyone to keep.

“Take this off,” she breathes out. The air is tense, and you almost want to deny her just to see what she would do, but fuck, she almost looks genuinely hurt and you can’t say no now.

With your eyes still locked onto hers, you slowly pull the sweater off and let it drop to the ground at your feet. Her eyes are still pinned to your chest, but now you’re so close that you can feel her soft breathing on your face. You swallow harshly and press your face against her shoulder, bunching up her pink tracksuit in your hands as you pull her closer. The feeling of her so close again kills all the tension in your shoulders. This is the safest you’ve felt in 24 hours, and it’s in the arms of a woman who’s been killing people like you the entire time.

You’re almost a bit ashamed, but what’s wrong with being a bit selfish for once?

You’re shaking in her arms when she pulls back slightly to cup your wet cheeks in her hands. You hadn’t even realized you had started crying again, but now, she’s looking down at your glassy eyes and swollen lips with so much intensity that you forget why you were crying in the first place. Her thumb swipes a tear off your cheek before she leans down, lips brushing against yours.

“My beautiful girl.”

Finally, nine years after the day you met, she presses her lips against yours and claims you as hers. Faintly, you feel your back collide with the wall behind you as her tongue slips in your mouth. You’re holding onto her suit for dear life as she practically devours you, and you wonder how you were ever angry at this woman. It’s far more intense than the softness you experienced earlier with Se-mi, and you’re beginning to feel the effects of being pent up for so long.

It’s not like you’ve never had sex with her before (to be fair, it’s only happened once), but this was far too emotional to be compared to the drunken haze you were both in when she fucked you over the seat of her van. There were no kisses shared then, no gentle caress of your face before she took you for herself.

You’re dragged from your own thoughts when you feel a hand slide under your shirt and bra, gasping into her mouth as a cold hand cups your breast, roughly pinching your nipple between two fingers. You whimper right into her ear as her lips move down to your neck, sucking and biting as you openly pant. She’s practically surrounded you by now, but it’s not enough.

With trembling hands, you grab the zipper of her pink suit and yank it down to reveal her slender body underneath. She practically tears the black turtleneck underneath the suit off as you stare. Your fingers scratch down her toned torso and you drink in the wonderful groan that leaves her mouth. As you’re preoccupied, she tugs on the hem of your sweatpants, pulling them down right along with your panties in one pull.

Faintly, as her hands grip the plush of your thighs, you try to determine if you’ve ever felt such strong feelings of desire, of love, of anything with anybody.

No, you’re sure you’ve felt this before.

Your eyes shoot open as she calls your name. Somewhere in the haze, No-eul has dropped to her knees in front of you, and now, she’s looking at you like you hold the world in your hands.

“Do you still love me?” A pause, and her fingers press harder into your thigh, cold leather gloves long forgotten on the floor. “Can you still accept me?”

Every moment that you remember being so close to that overwhelming emotion, No-eul is right there next to you.

“I’ve loved you since the day we met.”

A tear falls from her pained eyes, but you aren’t given the opportunity to wipe it away before she leans forward and presses her open mouth against your core. A gasp leaves your mouth and you immediately tangle your fingers in her short hair. It’s a bit too much to take in all at once - the woman you’ve loved for years is fucking you, and this time, you think she might actually love you back.

No, who are you kidding, you know she loves you. Maybe not as much as you love her, but she has to love you if she’s on her knees like this for you.

With the comfort of this knowledge, you lean your head back and lose yourself in the feeling of her tongue deep inside you, strong hands holding you still against the wall even if your legs feel like giving out. As your moans and pants fill the room, you beg internally that Se-mi isn’t waiting right outside the door to walk you back (or at least let the sound-proofing be decent).

Unsurprisingly, after a couple years without any genuine intimacy with anyone (you couldn’t bear to let anyone fuck you after No-eul did), you reach your peak quickly. It doesn’t feel like some triumphant moment; your legs shake as the tight coil in your stomach unwinds and it’s satisfying to some extent, but you can’t stop the sudden rush of tears that follow.

Why did your acceptance of your feelings for her have to come in a place like this - covered in the blood of someone you killed with your own two hands?

Your legs finally give out in your grief, but she’s quick to catch you, leaning back to properly sit down on the floor as she carefully guides you onto her lap. For a moment, you just tuck your head in her neck and cry as a hand gently rubs your back.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” No-eul whispers, caught up in her own guilt for leading you down the same hateful path she accepted long ago. Why did you have to love her? Why did you have to follow her road towards self-destruction, the one she vowed to shield you from?

You want to tell her that she has nothing to be sorry about because you chose all of this on your own, but you can’t bring yourself to speak. You’re worried that if you open your mouth now, all you’ll do is start spouting nonsense about how much you love her and how much of your humanity you would forsake to protect her dream.

Instead of further exposing yourself, you gently take the hand she’s kept on your waist and guide it down lower once again. To her credit, she understands right away and you’re given no time to prepare for the two long, slender fingers she pushes inside you. The sound of your sharp inhale right next to her ear must’ve been enough confirmation that you were okay, because she immediately starts moving them up and down inside you, rubbing gently against your still sensitive walls.

Your hands wrap around her back and grip her shoulders as your hips begin to move in tandem with her hands, your heavy breathing a stark contrast against her soft one. The hand she had on your back is still there, soothing you until your tears turn from ones of sadness to ones of pleasure.

As the high you’re chasing starts to get closer, you tear your nails down her back. Even though she’s still the same person as she was minutes ago, something feels different this time.

“Please don’t stop, please-”

“I won’t, I swear.” The hand on your back flies down to grip your hips to hold you steady as your movements grow more frantic. “I’ll never let you go, not for anything.”

You almost fall forward when she suddenly leans back, but you catch yourself on her shoulders once again. This time, she looks you square in the eyes as she pushes you over the edge, her gaze filled with an emotion you know too well.

“I love you,” she breathes out, and this is all you need to fall apart in her hands. “I’m in love with you, I can’t let you go, I won’t.”

In the afterglow of the moment, she wraps her arms around your waist and pulls you right up against her body.

“Even if you can’t love me anymore, I’ll continue holding onto you for the rest of my life.”

You smile at her words. You feel more content than you ever have before.

It wouldn’t be so bad to die in this place now.

—

A/N: my bad min-su fans and nam-guy fans, its for the plot y'all😭😭also if im being completely honest, I started writing writing this longass story just for smut with no-eul but it got so unexpectedly deep cuz I couldn't handle writing it with no build-up or emotional tension or ANYTHING

hope y'all enjoyed and LOL to the fellow FREAKS out there I hope the smut was alright cuz that was the most difficult part for me... LMK WHAT U THINK!! pt. 3 is coming in SEVEN MONTHS LMFAO😭😭😭SEASON 3 SAVE ME... SAVE ME SEASON 3

also if u request feel free to add details and stuff I might be able to build it into a longass story like this (but WOW this took too long) also I LOVE TO WRITE SAD SHT!!! SEND ME SAD SHT ILL LOVE IT!!

Taglist: @asvterias

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

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sayyestoheav3nn · 2 days ago

Text

You, Again: Part 1/2

Roman x black!oc

Warnings: fluff, angst, short mention of abortion, emotional/verbal abuse

Word Count: 3k

a/n: thanks for your patience, it really means a lot 🥹 I hope this isn't a disappointment. still working on part five of nights like this, most likely won't be posted till monday. click here if you would like to be tagged in part two.

Sky spent hours in her room crying into her pillow. She was sick and tired of this constant fucked up routine.

Her mother’s disdain for her progressively grew worse day by day. For as long as she could remember, that woman did everything in her power to make sure she understood that her biggest mistake in life, would always be the day she chose not to abort her.

It was starting to become a nightly occurrence of her drunkenly barging into her room just to belittle and scream at her.

Her mother’s hatred for her grew immensely as the years went on, to the point where she would find absolutely any reason to take her frustrations out on her.

This included breaking any and everything she could get ahold of in Sky’s room.

Sky knew any attempt to defend herself would only make the situation ten times worse, so she just stayed quiet and accepted it.

Sky could tell she wanted a reaction out of her, which is exactly why she refused to give it.

Maybe life would have been a tad bit easier, if her sister would’ve had her back during these repetitive toxic situations she was forced into.

But no, her one and only sibling turned out to be an even more evil and vindictive bitch.

Eva was four years older than her, and it was absolutely no secret that her older sister despised her.

Sky spent many years hoping she would eventually be able to build a relationship with her big sister.

Unfortunately, she couldn’t have been more wrong.

Sky remembers that night like it was yesterday. The night where Eva went to the bathroom and her creepy boyfriend tried to make multiple passes at her.

The fact that he knew she was underaged and still chose to hit on her, disgusted Sky to another level. She quickly rejected his creepy insinuations, trying her best to ignore him.

As soon as Eva stepped out of the bathroom, Sky wasted no time in telling her exactly what happened, not giving two fucks about the fact he was still standing there.

Her boyfriend immediately interjected, saying that Sky was the one who was hitting on him, he painted a story about how she’d been making him uncomfortable for the longest of time whenever Eva wasn’t around.

She remembered the exact lies he spewed, “Baby you know how jealous she’s always been of you, don’t tell me you believe this crazy bitch! Why would I ever do that to you? Let alone in your own house!”

To her surprise Eva looked at Sky like she was fucking insane, Sky could see her sisters anger rising.

“Eva, please don’t tell me you believe him over me…” Sky’s voice cracked as tears started to form in her eyes.

Eva pushed Sky against the wall with all the force she had, causing the back of Sky’s head to slightly start bleeding.

“If you ever even think to go near him again, I’ll fucking kill you,” Eva sneered.

In that exact moment Sky whole heartedly accepted the fact that she was truly alone, with absolutely no one by her side.

And just when she had fully given up hope on continuing to live this shitty life, with her even shittier family, she met Joe.

Joe was a boy who made her whole entire world shift.

He was her new neighbor, who in a short time of getting to know, became her favorite person.

As years passed they grew even closer, she was his best friend, and he was hers.

He was truly a light in her dark world, and there wasn’t a damn thing she’d do to change that.

……….

After another night of the same bullshit fight caused by her drunken mom, Sky carefully stumbled out of her bedroom window making her way across the wet grass that was now starting to soak her fuzzy slippers. Her phone was dead, so she had no choice but to rely on the natural moonlight to illuminate the short path leading her next door.

She lightly tapped on Joe’s window, hoping not to startle him.

Shortly after, he carefully slid his window open. His eyes were low and sunken, a sleepy smile formed on his face.

“Come in.” Joe helped Sky climb in, which basically consisted of him doing all the work in picking her up.

“Shit, sorry for waking you up Joe,” she whispered.

“Sky, how many times have I told you? Never apologize for that shit,” his voice was low.

Joe knew that she had issues with her family, but Sky made sure to never tell him how bad it really was. She knew him well, his hot headed ass would confront them with no hesitation, but that would only end up making things worse for her.

If Sky’s mom found out about him, she’d forbid her from ever seeing him again.

And that’s something that Sky simply would not allow, so choosing to keep him in the dark, in her eyes was the right choice.

Joe pulled his covers back leaving Sky’s preferred side easier for her to get in.

His bedroom became a safe space for her, it was starting to become a habit for Sky to spend her nights sleeping there. For some odd reason the smell of his sheets gave her a sense of comfort, his cologne scent became soothing to her.

They both laid down on their backs, with their gazes focused on the ceiling.

Joe was always respectful, making sure he left a small space in between them.

“You wanna talk about it?” He whispered.

“Thanks, but not really,” she sighed.

Joe could hear the sadness in her tone, he knew she was holding something in, but he didn’t want to push her. He believed she’d open up when she felt comfortable enough, so he respected that.

“That’s okay….but know you can tell me anything, Sky.”

She turned her body to face him, “I’m going to tell you something, but promise me you won’t get upset,” she muttered.

Just as Joe was deep in his thoughts admiring Sky’s beauty, beauty in which he was convinced everyone saw except her, her light angelic voice instantly snapped him out of it. “Talk to me, we’ll go from there.”

“This is going to be my last night sleeping here…”

Joe quickly sat up on the bed, with his eyebrows furrowed. Sky could feel his gaze locked in on her. “Why?”

“Joe I know we’re just friends and that we’ve always had boundaries, but you have a girlfriend. It…it just seems disrespectful to keep sleeping here knowing that,” she muttered.

Joe paused in silence for what felt like forever. Sky was starting to get anxious, because the last thing she needed was to cause problems or a rift between them. As regret started to seep in, she decided to try and smooth the situation over.

“It’s just—”

“We’re not together anymore,” his voice was low.

Confusion, that’s exactly what Sky was feeling. This was the last thing she was expecting him to say.

“W—Why didn’t you say anything? What happened?”

“She didn’t like me being friends with you, so she gave me an ultimatum… to choose between you or her.”

At that Sky stood up, her anxiety causing her to pace the room while so much guilt began to weigh her mind. She felt so fucking bad, knowing that her friendship ended his relationship which was the exact thing she was trying to avoid.

She swallowed down her emotions as best as she could, which worked to no prevail because she instantly felt warm tears begin to slide down her face. “Joe I-I’m so sorry. You shouldn’t….you shouldn’t have chosen me.”

Joe instinctively walked towards her now seeing that she was crying, he gently grabbed her chin forcing her gaze on his.

“Sky, there’s no reason to be sorry. It was the easiest choice I’ve ever fucking made.’’

“I—It’s my fault Joe…. I shouldn’t have put you in this situation,” she sniffled.

“Look at me,” his voice was assertive but still gentle, Sky’s glossy eyes met his.

“The ultimatum wasn’t the only reason I ended things with her, Sky.”

“Joe, w—what do you mean? I’m confused…..”

He moved some of her hair behind her ears, the way his eyes were glued to her lips gave her butterflies. “I….don’t want to just be friends anymore.”

Sky could feel her heart beating out of her fucking chest. Sure she believed they were close, but in no world did she ever think he thought of her that way. Joe carefully studied her facial expressions, trying to figure out what she was thinking.

“I—”

Before she could speak Joe interrupted. “I’ve always liked you Sky, you’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen, inside and out. I enjoy every moment I spend with you. With that being said… I understand if you don’t feel the same way, my intention isn’t to make you uncomfortable. But, I just needed you to—

“Kiss me.”

“What?”

“I want you to kiss me, Joe.”

Just as he was beginning to lean in, she slightly hesitated while slowly pulling back.

“I’ve.. I’ve never…” Sky was too embarrassed to finish her sentence.

“You’ve never kissed anyone before?”

She shook her head no, her gaze now shifted to the floor.

Joe lightly brushed his thumb across her bottom lip. “Sky, it’s just me. I got you, I promise.”

Once she silently gave him the approval, Joe gently pressed his lips against hers, starting off slow letting her get used to the feeling. Her lips were so fucking full and soft, it was going to be a challenge for him to contain himself.

Once Joe could feel her growing comfortable, he began to deepen their kiss. Sky could feel her arousal intensify as the kiss went from soft and slow to something more needy and sensual.

Without a second thought, he picked her up by her ass, hoisting her on his hips.

Sky wrapped her legs around him, while doing the same with her arms around his neck. Joe carried her back towards his bed, laying her down gently, while pulling her closer towards him.

To his surprise Sky climbed on top, straddling and kissing him. Joe sat up with his back resting on the headboard, a light moan escaped him when she slid her fingers behind his head, lightly scratching at his scalp.

He slightly pulled away, biting down on his bottom lip, his eyes entranced by that beautiful face of hers. “You have no fucking idea how long I’ve wanted to kiss you.”

“Me too,” she grinned.

Time passed, and Joe had no idea how long they spent kissing. It’s almost as if time didn’t exist when she was around him.

They eventually had to stop, Joe refused to get ahead of himself, making sure to prioritize taking things slow with her.

Just as they were about to sleep, Joe got up and walked to his drawer pulling out something plastic, it was too dark for her to tell.

“Shit, I almost forgot.”

“What is it?”

Joe handed her the light plastic item. “I know you forget to bring it sometimes, so I bought you one to leave here.”

Once Sky shined her phone light on it, a smile formed on her face.

A bonnet.

Joe went out of his way to buy her a bonnet.

Something so simple, yet so fucking thoughtful made her eyes water “Thank you Joe.”

She immediately pulled it out the package, wasting no time in putting it on.

Sky kissed his cheek and laid down, Joe pulled her by her waist with his big arms wrapped around her, there was no longer a gap in between. The warmth of his chest on her back was the most comforting thing she’d ever experienced, resulting in her instantly falling asleep.

Since the day he met her, she’d been the only person he thought about. Having her this close to him, internally evoked new emotions for him.

Watching her sleep so peacefully while being wrapped in his arms, brought a smile to his face. In that very moment he made a vow to himself, to always put her happiness first.

No matter what.

…………….

Present

The New York city lights illuminated the busy streets. Sky wasn’t used to being in such a live and ambient city.

After a shit ton of convincing from her best friend Lori, Sky forced herself to step out of her comfort zone and pursue a new potential career opportunity. It’s something that she had been wanting to do for the longest time, but unfortunately her deep rooted insecurities had her convinced she wasn’t good enough.

She was scared to waste so much time and effort, just to end up receiving rejection.

Except she was wrong, very wrong. Because after an exhausting few months of traveling around the world and going to so many different try outs, life finally threw her a bone.

Sky had received a message from her agent, informing her that a well known modeling agency based in New York, was interested in flying her in for a week to attend their casting call.

This was an opportunity she was glad she didn’t miss. Lori, being the amazing friend that she is, decided to join Sky to offer her unwavering support.

After being in this colorful, fast paced city for a few days, Sky went in for one last meeting with the agency where they informed her she would officially be signed.

Sky still had the weekend left in this enormous city, so she figured she’d make the most of it. Lori, suggested they try out this new fancy bar to celebrate Sky’s new job.

As they walked in the atmosphere was relaxing, the room was filled with dim lighting and the low sounds of jazz music. Sky noticed diverse groups of people scattered across the room, the air was filled with chatter and laughter, which brought a small smile to her face.

They decided to sit at the stools of the bar, they figured the closer they were, the faster they’d receive their drinks.

To say they were having a good time would be an understatement, Sky was starting to truly enjoy the feeling of being immersed in this vibrant city.

While Lori went to the bathroom, Sky decided to order their third drinks, and as she was waiting she ended up getting distracted with a dumbass reality show, that for some reason was starting to pique her interest.

Just as the boring commercials started to play, she was starting to zone out when out of the corner of her eye she saw a WWE ad.

Sky could instantly feel her breath hitch in her throat. It’s not the first time she’s seen him randomly displayed on tv.

That’s not the exact reason her heart was racing, while her body felt frozen in place. It’s the fact that the advertisement said he was in this exact area for a press event he had during the weekend.

Every piece of joy she was feeling prior to this revelation was stripped away.

Lori came back, and with one glance at Sky, she immediately knew something was wrong, “Sky, are you okay?”

Sky cleared her throat, trying her absolute best to play it off. “I’m fine, I promise. I think these drinks are hitting me all at once,” she nervously chuckled.

Lori stared at Sky, seeming completely unconvinced, but she ultimately decided to let it go.

“I’ll drop it for now, only because it’s a big day for you.”

“Thank you,” Sky mouthed.

Sky waited twenty minutes for Lori to finish her drink, her anxiety made it feel like she was waiting a lifetime. Once Lori finished up, Sky asked to leave, using the excuse that she was exhausted.

Lori paid their tab after refusing to let Sky pay a dime. They started to make their way out of the packed bar, trying their best to maneuver away from large crowds.

Just as they were close to the entrance door, Lori had to turn around when she noticed she left her sunglasses. Sky was looking back to see if her friend had located them, while still walking forward.

She decided it would be best to wait outside since the bar was starting to get congested. When she reached to open the door, her gaze was glued to her purse while she dug for her cellphone.

Before she knew it, she accidentally bumped into someone, causing her to stumble back.

She stood up, immediately apologizing, moving to the side as more people walked in. “Shit. I’m so sorry!”

“Sky?” His voice was low and hesitant.

In hearing that voice, his voice… she looked up, suddenly feeling the air grow thick. The bar started to feel small, as if it was enclosing around her.

She felt her body go cold, her legs started to feel weak and numb. No words escaped her mouth, she was rendered speechless.

He studied her, noticing she was just as fucking stunning as he remembered. After all these years, the feeling he got when she looked up at him, never changed.

“Sky…”

“Stay the fuck away from me, Roman,” her voice cracked, while tears began to pool in her eyes. She pushed past him, while quickly walking away.

He knew he deserved it, but hearing her call him by that name fucking stung.

He stopped her by gently grabbing her arm.

“Sky, if you never want to see me again after this, I’ll…I’ll let you be. But please just let me explain,” he pleaded.

“I think it’s a little too fucking late for that,” she scoffed.

Sky walked out the bar without looking back, quickly texting Lori saying she’d be at a café a few blocks over. Right now all she wanted was to create as much distance as possible, from the man who broke her heart.

#roman reigns x black reader #roman reigns x black!oc #roman reigns x oc #roman reigns fic #roman reigns x reader #roman reigns fanfiction

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farfromstrange · 15 hours ago

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One Soul | Matt Murdock x Reader

Matt Murdock Masterlist

Summary: Matt gets hurt, badly, so you have to do the one thing you promised him you wouldn't: take him to a hospital.

Warnings: Angst, life-threatening injury, blood, temporary Major Character Death (he comes back, don't worry), mentions of CPR, religious imagery, conflicted relationship with religion, Reader is described as an atheist but Mad At God, prayer, hurt/comfort

A/n: This is a little angst piece I came up with yesterday. For me, personally, my atheism isn't always black and white. I know I don't believe in God, but I have found myself cursing him in the past because it was easier than cursing something I did not understand (like the death of a loved one). And I just know that being with Matt, chances are he will get himself hurt badly enough one day to the point he has to be brought to the hospital.

Read Me On AO3!

The heart monitor beside the bed signals at a steady eighty beats per minute. You follow the many lines of tubing from the machines to his frail body, your eyes lingering on the purple bruises adorning his pale skin—deadly pale, it is.

His cheeks, once so full of life, are hollow now. His eyes are swollen, his pretty lips cut, and there is blood stuck to his hair, still, soaking through the bandage they applied. You’ve never seen him so broken, so utterly weak and fragile that you wouldn’t dare touch him. The tears refuse to stop falling.

Years ago, you made a promise. You promised never to take him to a hospital, to protect his identity and him. Hell, he survived the collapse of Midland Circle, albeit with a scattered mind. He had broken bones and a broken spirit, locked away at Clinton Church for weeks, and still, he survived.

Tonight though, for the first time, you felt his heart stop. It wasn’t one of those ghastly nightmares that have been plaguing you ever since you locked Fisk away and he finally came back to you. It wasn’t a product of your imagination; you felt his heart stop. Hands covered in blood, you watched as the life drained from his eyes and he breathed out without breathing in again.

You swear you can still feel his ribs breaking underneath your fingertips. “Don’t do this to me,” you cried. “Don’t you dare do this to me, Matthew! I can’t lose you. Please, come back. Come back!”

And you prayed to a God you don’t believe in not to take him from you. You begged for a chance to hear his heartbeat again, just one last time even if it kills you.

You looked to the sky and swore you’d make a deal with the devil if you had to. You’d do anything for this man; this reckless, stupid force of a man you are so in love with that it hurts sometimes. You would’ve let God crucify you for the whole world to see just to get a chance to look at your beloved Matthew one last time, to know he’s alive. And perhaps God did answer your prayers, or maybe the CPR you’d never done before did its trick for he suddenly took a breath, and his heart started beating again.

You cried over his body like Mary over Jesus. You shielded him as if that would heal him, and he clung to you when he realized what had happened. He coughed, and he was bleeding, and you were paralyzed with the fear of losing him again.

What else were you to do but take him to a place where he could be fixed? If you hadn’t brought him here, he would have died. You shouldn’t feel guilty. It wasn't selfish. Yet, the fire within you keeps burning, and your soul keeps hurting as you watch him like a hawk, wondering what he’ll think of you once he wakes up—if he wakes up.

“I know I’m not… religious,” you murmur, eyes directed at the ceiling now. “I’m not a good Catholic, far from it. I’ve done things… well, you know. And I don’t pray. Matt prays. I don’t,” you say. “I just wanna understand why.”

Another tear rolls down your cheek. The coil in your throat is tight enough to strangle the air from your lungs. One of the shards of your broken heart is stuck, and now you’re bleeding. Your soul is laid bare for everyone to see.

It’s pathetic, you think, for an atheist to pray. Because you don’t believe, you never have. Matt believes. He has faith. You’re just… angry? Yes, you are furious, and even more now than ever you feel like it’s all a lie. Where’s the hope? Where’s the faith now?

“Why do you keep letting bad things happen to him?” you ask, your voice breaking. “All he’s ever done is try to please you because he thinks you gave him some kind of purpose. That accident… he thinks it happened for a reason. Going blind, losing every one. After all the hardships and the trouble he got himself into, he thinks he’s some kind of soldier. Even when he was at his lowest and stopped believing, he eventually came back to you. Like a dog on a leash.”

If Matt heard you, he’d be deeply offended. Religion is so important to him, but tonight, he almost died. He almost died before, but it never felt as real as it did tonight, and the thought haunts you like a restless ghost.

“I want to be supportive, I do. I mean, everyone’s beliefs are valid, in a way, but it almost killed him tonight. If you’re up there—if you’re truly listening—how can you just let that happen to someone you claim to love, God? I don’t–” You shake your head. “I just don’t understand.”

The heart monitor keeps beeping. The lights keep flickering. His chest keeps rising. No answer. The disappointment cuts you deep. Is there perhaps a part of you that does want to believe? Or are you just looking for someone, something, to blame? Instead of the men who did this to him, instead of the men who quite literally took him apart, you’re turning to the one thing you can’t touch. But you know it’s not what Matt would want. He’d want you to have hope.

How does one go about that when everything seems to be going wrong? When your very heart is lying in a hospital bed? How does even an atheist not curse God out of pure and utter desperation?

Matt lets out a soft groan, and your eyes flick to him. Your heartbeat accelerates at the same time as his.

“Matt?” you ask, inching closer to the edge of the bed.

He stirs. Every muscle and bone in his body is filled with a dull ache. First dull, then sharp. The stitches in his abdomen pull at the tender flesh with every breath that fills his lungs, the oxygen so rich and concentrated it almost sets him alight. The plastic tubes weigh heavy on his nostrils.

His eyes pulsate, and there is this obnoxiously loud beeping in his ear. It’s screaming, almost. Beep, beep, beep. Faster and faster, and faster. But his eyelids are so heavy he can’t open them. There’s nothing but fire, and for a moment he forgets that he hasn’t been able to see for decades.

In his head, he’s eight years old again, his head wrapped with a bandage that itches his skin so terribly, and the world around him screaming. It’s the same room, it seems, cold and dark and terrifying.

Matt reaches for his eyes, fingers brushing against the bruises that resemble the shape of a fist—no light. He can taste copper on his tongue. The beeping gets louder and his ears are ringing, and why is the blanket made of sandpaper? He wants to tear the skin off his weary bones.

“I can’t–” he breaks off at the foreign sound of his voice. Another trace of his fingertips against the bruised skin. “I can’t see,” he chokes out.

“Matt!” you say a little louder, your hand finally touching his, and it’s as if the bubble he’s in bursts.

He recognizes your voice. He remembers he’s blind. He remembers going out last night and kissing you goodbye. He was in good spirits then. But something went wrong. Somehow, his opponent had weaponry that could easily break through the protective material of his suit. He stood no chance against the number of men coming at him. They sliced and they hit, and he thought he saw God, but it was just the swinging ceiling light inside the abandoned factory building. It smelled of mold and water.

He fought until he couldn’t bear it anymore. Until the opportunity to flee presented itself, and so Matt crawled home to you. With every last ounce of strength, he honored his promise to always come back home to you.

He doesn’t remember much more, only falling down the stairs to the rooftop access to the living room. The crash. Your gasp. Your heartbeat. And then, nothing. Nothing but the comfort of darkness.

“Hey,” you smile through your tears, “It’s me. You’re okay.”

He whispers your name, and you squeeze his hand.

“I’m here. Try not to move,” you tell him. “You’re at Metro General.”

The word makes his breath stutter. “The hospital?” he inquires.

“Yes. You were hurt… badly. They had to take out your spleen. Fifty-something stitches. Some brain swelling. I don’t know, it’s a lot.”

“I told you,” he grunts, “no hospitals.”

Matt Murdock is not an ungrateful man. However, his words cut deep. You can’t take much more.

“You promised, no–”

“You died!” you cry out. The echo bounces off the walls and resonates in his ears like the sound of a bomb going off.

“You died in my arms and I had to–” You look at your hands, stained with blood, “I had to break your ribs to bring you back. Your bones… breaking,” you cry. “You died and I thought I was gonna lose you, for good. You can blame me for breaking a stupid promise, but if I hadn’t, I’d be preparing a funeral now!”

His head tilts in his direction—you’re serious—and his defenses fall like an iron curtain, shattering like glass. The sound of your voice in such a state of disarray, death by a thousand cuts.

He almost died. Or, he did die, and you brought him back, but the things you had to do for that… you brought him back, but it hurt you. He hurt you. He swore he would never do so again, only over his dead body, yet it was his dead body that almost broke you.

Matt never wanted any of this to happen. The love of his life, traumatized. What kind of man does that? Surely the kind of man that no one but the one person he never deserved mourns when he’s gone.

The silence drags on, suffocating you. “Do you get that?” you ask, barely above a whisper. “Do you get that I’d die without you?”

“I’m so sorry,” Matt whispers. “I don’t remember…”

“Of course, you don’t. You’ve never been this hurt.”

“Sweetheart.”

“I would’ve traded your life for mine if I could’ve. I tried, Matt, I did. I prayed to God and told him to take me instead while I was trying to get your heart beating again. And I blamed Him for doing this to you ‘cause I didn’t know who else to blame.”

His fingers brush against the back of your hand. A nurse kindly lent you clothes from the lost-and-found, but you can still feel the sticky substance on your skin, crawling like a parasite.

You shudder. “If you hadn’t woken up, I–“

“C’mere,” he says.

Beep, beep, beep, goes the heart monitor, and sirens wail outside his window.

“I can’t,” you whisper back.

“Why not?”

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Sweetheart, you could cut out my heart and I’d still want you.”

A shiver runs down your spine, settling in the pit of your stomach. You feel so sick, so detached from everything and everyone, but the piece of you that you almost lost is right there, and he’s alive.

He’s alive.

You have to keep reminding yourself of the fact. His heart is beating. His lungs are filled with air. Those last few hours might have felt like a proper nightmare, but you made it through. He made it through.

“Please,” he pleads. “I… I need you.”

It’s different now. He’s not asking to hold you for your comfort but his own, and without another second thought, you climb into the tiny hospital bed with him.

Matt seeks out the comfort of your chest, but he’s aimless in his agony. You gently guide his head to your heart. Touching him, feeling him so close to you, melts away the last of your fears.

“You scared me,” you confess.

He exhales. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry. Just… promise you’ll live for me.”

The silence wraps a noose around your neck. But then, “You own my heart,” he says.

“So?”

“Yeah, I’ll live for you.”

Those four words mean more to you than a promise to die for you if push comes to shove. Because what are you supposed to do without him? You’d rather he try everything in his power to live for you than leave you.

“If you live for me, too,” he whispers then, and a tear runs from his cheek down your chest. You can’t survive without him, that much is certain. That may sound like a state of unhealthy codependency, but when two people share the same soul, every breath one breathes sustains the other. There’s nothing you can do about that, nor would you ever want to.

“Without you, I’d–” he cuts himself off.

Without you, he’d be lost. Without you, even in death, he would not be able to find peace.

“I promise,” you manage to say, although the words come with a fresh flood of salty tears that mix with the ocean of his.

He relaxes into you. “Thank you.”

As he falls asleep in your arms that night, you find yourself staring up at the ceiling again.

“Don’t fail him,” you whisper. To God, to the universe, to the moon and Saturn, and to yourself.

matt murdock angst tag list: @itwasthereaminuteago @norestfortheshelbywicked @yarrystyleeza @littlenerdyravenclaw @thychuvaluswife @schneeflocky @imjustcal @pipsqueakkitten @merlinbtch @thatonegamefish @amberritonicole @pigeonmama @bohemianrhapsody86 @a-gir1-has-n0-name @winkev1 @callsign-ember @chittaphonstar @buckyyyismahhlife @trublu2u @xnatyx @zomtart @steve-chandler @lucienofthelakes @mochie-is-a-librarian @buckyssugarchick

#matt murdock #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x you #matt murdock angst #matt murdock fluff #hurt/comfort #daredevil #charlie cox

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strwbrychffoncke · 21 hours ago

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"baby ,i care for you,, 2.6k words synopsis: caleb nurses you back to health contains: fluff! lads caleb x f!reader (caleb calls you "good girl" + "silly girl" x1) ,established relationship! ,just some self-indulgent fluffy sick comfort ,chef!caleb ,kind of stern!caleb (he's just worried) ,caleb makes u take medicine ,two suggestive jokes (cause its caleb) ,like one second of angst ,one single use of "gege" ,he carries you to the couch ,he pats your head/gives u a massage ,lulls you to sleep ,one head kiss ,i think thats it note: not proofread! its 5 in the morning when i post this so forgive any mistakes i just needed this out of my system i need him to take care of me so baaad :x enjoy

for some reason, you woke early for someone who didn't sleep till the late hours into the morning last night.

what you'd gotten couldn't even be considered proper sleep, more like just a nap, but somehow your body wasn't too keen on slipping back into the grips of slumber that easily.

and somehow, you woke up feeling even worse than you had for the past two days.

even if your sore throat was mostly gone, you heaved out a couple of dry coughs as you wrapped yourself tighter in your blanket, shivering in the cold that surrounded the room (courtesy of your comfort, unable to sleep comfortably otherwise even if it worsened your current condition), and on top of that your head was softly throbbing. not wanting to deal with it, you decided to lay back completely to soothe the pain.

your nose was stuffy and runny at the same time, reaching for some tissues on the bedside table to wipe away at it, not before sneezing a couple of times and sniffling afterwards— it was so sensitive today for some reason.

you let out a deep sigh, soft breaths escaping from your mouth as you couldn't breathe comfortably from your nose.

how did it get worse? sure, you only took medicine once yesterday instead of every couple of hours like you were supposed to, but seriously, it was just a sore throat and a small fever!

you sighed, irritated that you were still sick. weren't you supposed to be the one with a good immune system? you and caleb often argued about it, and if he were here, he would surely use this as a point that his was better.

the yearning for his presence bit into the silence of the room as you laid comfortably on your back, shutting your eyes once again as your shallow breaths evened out.

you thought about getting up, washing your face and then making your way to the kitchen to make yourself some tea, and then something to eat so that you could take your medicine and then proceed to rest- something caleb would already be doing for you the moment he'd realize you were sick.

but he wasn't here right now, and even though you'd seen his moments posts about being out with friends, you had no plan to worry him when this was just a little cold.

you thought about it- you were hungry after all, and you wanted something warm to soothe your throat, but just the idea of going all the way down and doing all of that at the moment in your state was tiring.

but, you had taken care of yourself for the past two days like this. what was another?

you opened your eyes, pulled yourself up with a groan, swung your legs over the edge of the bed to slip on your slippers, slipped on the closest sweater and slowly padded your way to the bathroom, leaning against the wall for balance as your headache and sick haze had you dizzy and unsteady on your feet.

you washed up without much of a hitch, and when you exited the bathroom, you thought you heard a door close.

huh?

you thought it might be your mind playing tricks on you. after all, you were at home by yourself and weren't expecting anyone (even if you yearned for someone, the stray thought of him being here leaving you as soon as it came), and you couldn't think of anyone that would stop by on a random wednesday who also happened to have a key to your place.

you shook your head, pocketing your phone as you padded down the way towards the living room, pausing at the faint sound of the television being on- had you left it on?- before proceeding towards the kitchen.

you froze at the sound of light humming coming from your kitchen, feet subconsciously carrying your slightly swaying body closer at the pleasant smell of food wafting towards your nose, completely disregarding a certain bag laying at the end of the empty sofa.

your footsteps must've been heavier than you thought because before you could fully enter the kitchen, the person in question turned around, staring straight at you, spatula in his hand and smile stretching across his face.

"morning, sleepyhead."

you tilted your head.

"caleb?" you whispered.

"surprised?"

you took a few steps closer, heart pounding with excitement but managing to keep your distance due to your illness.

"what are you-"

"hey."

his playful smile quickly morphs into a look of concern as he studies your face, noticing your shallow breaths, quiet voice and slightly-swaying body.

"pipsqueak, are you sick?"

you jolt, looking off to the side.

"not really, its just—"

you startle at his free hand brushing your bangs from your head and resting on your forehead.

"hey! i don't have a fever, i'm fine—"

"your voice is mostly gone," he deadpans.

"that's—"

"how long have you been sick??" his look is full of concern, voice laced with worry.

"just the past two days.."

"two days? and you didn't think to tell me?"

"it was just a sore throat at first!"

"and you're telling me this is still just that?"

before you can answer you're interrupted, bringing up your sleeved arm up to cover the lower half of your face to sneeze twice into it before sniffling.

you put your sleeved arm down and sigh.

"bless you," he says, taking a once over if your state before placing a hand on your lower back.

"here, i made you breakfast, just- sit down, i'll get you everything."

"that's okay, i wanted to—"

"i have water ready for tea if that's what you're after, just sit down, i'll bring it to you."

he says it in a way that almost feels like he's scolding you, and you can't help but to obey and trudge over to the closest seat at the dining table, secretly grateful since your head was hurting more now.

you momentarily rest your head on the cool surface, missing the frown that adorns caleb's face at seeing you in such a weakened state.

he knew how prideful you were when it came to your wellbeing, and he also knew how, for as little as it happened, sick you got when you did succumb to illness.

luckily, from a surface level it didn't look too bad, and the duration wasn't anywhere near severe-level yet. he was sure it was something plenty of rest and medicine would help with.

which is when he vowed, while filling your plate and pouring the steaming water into your favorite mug with a green tea bag resting inside, that he would be the one to nurse you back to health himself.

just like he used to.

"that's way too many, caleb!"

"i'm not letting you leave until you take em' all."

"is this really necessary??"

"lingering sore throat, mild fever, headache, stuffy and runny nose, sneezing, dry cough. did i miss anything?"

"no.."

"then yes, this is all necessary. it's not even that much!"

"caleb, there's five different pills sitting in front of me. i am not swallowing all of that!"

"haven't you swallowed more than just this before?"

"caleb!"

you smack his arm and he lets out a hearty laugh— one that you're grateful to see (despite it being at your expense), given he's mostly been overcome with concern— before looking over the medicines again.

"fine, fine, here."

one hand drags an orange pill away towards him.

"how about now?"

you deadpan.

"you're joking, right?" you sniffle.

"that's the best i can do, pipsqueak. now hurry up and take them."

you let out a groan, but reach for the largest pill first.

"do i really—"

"yes," he crosses his arms, leaning back in his seat. "i won't say it again."

you sigh, taking a small sip of tea before slipping the pill between your lips, tipping your head back before taking multiple large gulps of your tea to help its descent.

caleb nods, uncurling his hands and reaching for his utensil to grab some rice.

"good girl, now eat some more and take the rest," he instructs, shoving the rice into his mouth.

you're about to speak but are interrupted by a small sneeze.

"bless you."

you pout at him.

he points to your plate with his chopsticks.

"eat."

"you're lucky your food is so good..." you trail off, shoveling some eggs into your mouth, delight quickly filling you at the flavor of such a simple food item.

the cycle repeats: caleb watching you take sips of your tea and shoveling small bites of food into your mouth before pushing the next pill towards you until they're all gone.

in no time at all, both of your plates are empty. he takes yours from in front of you as you sip on the remainder of your tea, nodding when he asks if you're finished before taking them away to the sink.

you watch as he rolls up his sleeves and makes quick work to wash the plates, utensils, and the kitchenware he'd used, mesmerized by the familiar movements but willing to watch again and again all the same.

once he was finished and the dishes were properly put away, he dries his hands, walking back over to you and feeling your forehead again.

"hmm.. not too warm. how are you feeling right now? are you cold?"

you nod your head, and he gently pats the top of it. you close your eyes in response, the gesture soothing to you.

he grins.

always so cute...

"we should get you back to bed," he murmurs, bending down to your level. "want gege to carry you?"

you crack your eyes open and shake your head, prompting him to tilt his in question.

"i don't want you tripping on the way to your room if you're still dizzy, pipsqueak—"

"i don't wanna go to my room," you cut him off.

"can't i rest near you?" you peer up at him, hope filled in your droopy eyes, and something about that hits him.

you'd been on your own feeling like crap the past two days (now onto the third) and, knowing you, haven't been taking proper care of yourself, prompting the sickness to become what it is now.

no one could guarantee that you'd been eating properly, taking the proper medicine and on time, and most of all, not trying to work while in this state.

his heart feels heavy at the thought, but at his prolonged silence and hard stare, you shift your gaze behind him, embarrassed, and speak up again.

"or— i've already caused you enough trouble, right? this is supposed to be your time off and i've worried you enough... so i'll go back to my room! i wouldn't want to get you si—"

"no, no, no," he quickly cuts you off, swiftly shaking his head before grabbing onto your shoulders.

"pipsqueak, when have i ever denied you of your wishes?"

you sniffle. he did have a point...

"and besides, it's my job to worry about you, ya know?"

"so come on, let me carry you to the couch, yeah? we can put on whatever you like until you fall asleep."

you smile, ever so grateful at how caleb loved to spoil you.

you move to stand up and barely feel your feet hit the ground for half a second before you're easily scooped into caleb's arms, laughing at the sudden gesture before he walks towards the living room with you.

"caleb! i could've—"

"nope, you really couldn't have. i saw the way you trudged through the kitchen earlier, pipsqueak. you looked like you'd fall over if i so much as blew on you."

you look away, small pout adorning your lips, sniffling again.

"s' not my fault... don't even know how i got sick this time."

"maybe cause you missed me so much?

"yeah, maybe."

his heart throbs at your honesty, plopping down on the couch with you before smiling.

"so i guess this means i've got the better immune system, huh?"

"ugh, i knew you'd bring that up..."

he chuckles, letting you adjust in his hold as you use his lap as a pillow.

"whaddya wanna watch, pipsqueak?"

"dunno," you yawn. "just see what's on right now."

you watch as he looks around for the remote, pointing at it being just out of reach on the coffee table. you're about to offer to grab it before you see the strings of his evol grip onto it, bringing it into his hand before he catches it with ease and begins flipping through the channels.

"cheater," you tease quietly, letting out a small laugh at his use of his evol.

"hm?" he catches your words, humming thoughtfully in response, eyes glued to the television.

"you say that, but i remember a certain hunter practically crying under my evol while begging me to—"

"c-caleb!"

he laughs at the way you try to swat at him as you're laying down, settling for a small thwap! on his thigh instead.

"sorry, sorry," he says nonchalantly, loving how easily riled up he could get you at the mention your bedroom activities.

"here," he says, free hand finding its way to your head, softly massaging at your scalp.

"this a good enough apology?" he asks, only earning pleased mewls from you in response.

he smiles fondly in response, pleased at your little noises and the way you nuzzle into him further, resembling a satisfied cat that just filled its belly and was ready for its afternoon nap.

he eventually lands on a channel with a classic favorite movie for the both of you, setting the remote down and using his now-free hand to rub soothing circles into your back.

"you know, wearing my clothes while you're sick is a little selfish, don't you think?"

"s' warm," you mumble, slowly being lulled to sleep by his ministrations.

"and comfy. smells like you..."

even though he teased you, he always felt his heart grow fuller at the sight of you in his clothes, and he felt some amount of pride that it was the first thing you'd reached for even in your current state.

"yeah? i guess i can forgive you," he whispers, evol reaching for the nearest blanket to drape it over your lower half.

in the edges of slumber, you can feel a kiss being planted on the side of your head, but you don't have the energy to reprimand him for doing such a thing and risk himself getting sick.

he sits back up, watching you fondly as he continues his comforting ministrations.

"get well soon, okay? ill be right here when you wake up."

even after he was sure you were sleeping, he continued his gentle caresses, comforted by the fact that you were there with him, and that he could keep a close eye on you.

extra:

half-paying attention to the movie on screen, he was already planning a soup to make you when his phone buzzed beside him.

it was a message from a friend of his.

wanna grab a bite later? my treat! some others will be joining too.

grateful for the offer, he messaged back quickly.

can't, playing nurse for my cute girlfriend tonight~

aw, next time, then!

he placed his phone back down, looking back at you and brushing stray hair out of your face as he thought back to your words.

"can't i rest near you?"

you'd looked so helpless, almost like you were expecting him to refuse you and make you rest by yourself, but eyes holding a lingering hope anyway as they peered into his soul.

his heart is full, his eyes are full of mirth, lips curling lovingly.

silly girl...

there's nowhere he'd rather be than here, right beside you—

whether you were ill or perfectly healthy.

always.

and he would make sure you never felt the burden of illness by yourself so long as he could help it.

a/n: i'm sick and couldn't help but imagine the l&ds men taking care of me ,and namely imagined caleb nursing me back to health so here we are. caleb come home!

#love and deepspace #love and deepspace caleb #love and deepspace x reader #love and deepspace x you #love and deepspace fanfic #lnds caleb #lads caleb #l&ds caleb #caleb x reader #caleb x you #xia yizhou #love and deepspace caleb x reader #lnds caleb x reader #lads caleb x reader #love and deepspace fluff #lads x reader #love and deepspace fic #lads fanfic

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manonsmartini · 3 days ago

Text

Maniac: We Had Magic But You Made It Tragic

Daniela Avanzini x fem!reader

3.3k words | established relationship | story starts with predebut daniela | predebut friends are fictional

angst, fluff, homophobia, closeted, suggestive(ish) joke

In all honesty, it is truly dreadful to walk these halls, and you'd rather be anywhere than here at the moment. Opening the door to your locker though, you couldn't help the smile that crept to your lips at the sight of a little brown teddy bear, already having an idea of how it ended up in your locker.

"Hi cutie, I'll meet you up at your place tonight @ 10," a small handwritten letter said.

You stifle a chuckle, remembering that you once told Daniela that you valued handwritten letters, and although this is not the type of handwritten letter you had in mind, knowing that it came from the blonde made it a hundred times better.

After getting your stuff from the locker, you headed to your next class.

As you sat in your chair, you couldn't help but let your mind wander to the girl that has been taking over your thoughts for the past three months. You didn't even know why someone like Daniela would give you the time of day—heck, she's literally THE Daniela Avanzini. It is especially shocking because prior to her taking an interest in you, you would have sworn that she is exclusively a boy kisser.

It still baffles you every time you think about your first interaction. It was at the parking lot near the campus grounds, it’s already dark and you had been standing there alone, waiting for someone you barely knew.

“Your date stood you up?” You visibly jolted, shocked at the sudden voice behind you. Turning around, you were surprised to see Daniela Avanzini staring right at you, a smirk visible on her lips, her arms crossed over her chest while her hands held her car keys.

“What, you see a loser in the wild and you immediately assume that she got stood up by a date? That’s very judgemental of you,” You replied, light-heartedly.

Although you meant it as a joke, you could see the shift in the girl’s demeanor, scratching her loose blond curls, looking slightly embarrassed, “Oh— I… I didn’t—”

“It’s alright, I was messing with you,” You cut her off. Daniela nodded before regaining her composure, “So what are you doing here all alone?”

Studying her face, it took you a hot minute to answer because first of all, you did not expect her to engage in an actual conversation with you; sure you expected a snarky remark about getting ditched by a date, but you didn’t expect her to actually talk to you. You immediately convinced yourself that she probably still feels guilty about her assumption which you called her out for.

“I mean if you don’t mind me asking,” Daniela added, “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to sound like a creep, especially not in an empty parking lot.”

You realized that while you were overthinking, you were simply staring at the blonde’s face, probably making her feel more tense than she already was, “No, I don’t mind at all, sorry,” You started, “My mind went blank all of a sudden, it’s just that Hailey borrowed my notes yesterday and she asked me to meet her here so that she could return them.”

The blonde clicked her tongue before replying, “Well damn, I guess you’re not getting it tonight though.”

You look at her in question, “Why not?”

“She and her boyfriend had an argument earlier so now she’s at his place because he’s trying to make it up to her,” Daniela says.

“Oh, wow. Thanks for the heads up, god I hope she told me that herself so that I didn’t have to wait here all night thinking she had dance practice or something,” You said, obviously pissed, but your foul mood was not directed towards the blonde in front of you, rather it was for the blonde that ditched you.

“Look, I’m sure Hailey just forgot, she tends to do that when she’s stressed by her boyfriend, and maybe she couldn’t text you because she didn’t have your number,” Daniela tried to reason.

Now you felt bad because although she’s not the person you’re pissed at, she’s definitely in the receiving end of your attitude so you straightened up and said, “Yeah you’re right, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be a bitch towards you, I really do appreciate you telling me all this.”

Daniela flashes you a bright smile, her dimple showing, and you swore your heart bursted at the sight, “No worries at all, god knows what I would’ve said and done if I were in your position,” She wraps her hand around your arm, caressing it, “It’s all good, don’t worry, you weren’t a bitch at all.”

You could feel goosebumps all over the arm that the dancer held, especially with her eyes locked onto yours, it felt like you were suffocating but in the best way possible.

“Well, since we have established that you wouldn’t be seeing Hailey tonight, do you have any other plans?”

“Other than going home?” You asked, shocked that she would even ask such a question.

Daniela flashed you another smile, her dimple once again making an appearance, "I'd seriously kill for an unhealthily greasy burger right now," You could see the girl studying your face before continuing, "I was wondering if you'd like to join me?"

"I–" You honestly fell silent, not knowing how to respond to a really pretty girl asking you to eat with her, "Sure, I'd love to."

The dancer's smile widens, her eyes practically glowing in the dimly lit parking lot, "Great, I know a really good place. My car's just over there," The girl turns around, pointing towards her red car.

You nodded, and followed her when she started making her way towards the vehicle, "Oh shit, I forgot to ask," She turns back to face you, "Do you have a ride? Sorry, I just assumed that you'd ride with me…"

Daniela laughs awkwardly, scratching her head before adding, "God, I should really stop assuming things about you."

You gave the blonde a genuine smile of your own, finding the whole interaction adorable, "It's fine, Daniela, I don't mind, and no, I don't have a ride."

The girl's eyes visibly widened at the mention of her name, "Oh god," she said.

You look at her in curiosity, "Why? Is there something wrong?" You asked as the both of you approached the car.

"I just remembered, I didn't even introduce myself to you," The blonde said, a look of utter disbelief painted on her face. You couldn't help but chuckle at the girl.

"Daniela," you started, emphasizing her name, "I highly doubt that you even have to; you're like one of the most well-known students in our batch," you gave her a kind smile before adding, "If anything, I should be the one worried that I haven't introduced myself."

The dancer shakes her head in disagreement, "No," She starts, "Well, I already know you, I mean, I've seen you perform at some of your gigs," You could feel your cheeks heating up as the girl opens the car door for you, her eyes steady on your frame. You never would have thought that she'd be hanging out at the cafes that you played in, other than the fact that you'd never seen her, it just doesn't seem like her vibe.

"Oh, well, I'd hardly call it a performance," You replied as she finally enters her car, getting ready to drive off, "I just go up the stage with a guitar and sing," You could see the girl about to disagree with you when you added, "You on the other hand, wow, you are a performer."

Despite her focus being trained on the road, you could see the pink tint coloring the girl's cheeks, "That is not true," was all she could say.

"Oh come on, Daniela," You started, "You're a dance prodigy—you know for a fact that I'm right."

That night was the start of something unexpected; a vicious and feisty force that was Daniela just waltz into your life without any warning, and ever since then, the girl kept finding ways to bump into you and spark a conversation with you.

And of course, you did not even try to avoid it; in fact, you loved the attention that Daniela gave you—she's such an addictive person and the more you saw her, the more you wanted to bask in her presence.

It didn't even take the dancer long before she finally asked you out on a real date, which ended successfully, causing the both of you to finally have a mutual understanding of dating each other in private, mostly because she is not ready to come out of the closet.

You were lying on your bed, scrolling through twitter when you received a text from your girlfriend, telling you that she's right outside. You send her a quick response before quietly rushing out of your bedroom to sneak her into your house.

Daniela never fails to look amazing whenever she meets up with you. Sure, the latina always looks absolutely stunning even without much effort, but there's certainly something different every time she goes out to see you, and in a way, it gives you a sense of pride knowing that only you get to see her this way, and that maybe, just maybe, she puts in the effort to look good for you.

"Are you doing anything this Saturday?" The dancer looks at you expectantly as she laid on your lap, both of you resting comfortably on your bed. You had an exam on Monday that you really had to prepare for, but you decided to ask the dancer, "Do you have any plans in mind?"

"Mhm," She nods adorably, sitting up straight facing you, "I was wondering if you'd like to go to the movies with me," Daniela basically pleads with her eyes, "My friends have been raving about this one horror film, and I really really want to watch it. Please?"

Now seriously, how do you say no to that? Exactly, you don't.

After making plans with her, both of you cuddled on your bed with the latina being the small spoon. You spoke into her exposed neck, feeling the goosebumps immediately form around the area, "Dani, baby, it's midnight."

The blonde sighs before turning around to face you. She stares into your eyes before she wraps her arm on your waist holding you closer, and buries her face on your chest.

“I don’t care,” Daniela says, squeezing your body closer which you didn’t even think was possible. As much as you didn’t want her to go, you replied, “Tomorrow’s a school day, Dani, you have to go back home.”

The girl only grumbled in response so you continued, “Besides, my parents would freak out if they see a stranger’s car outside our house.”

Daniela finally separates her face from your chest, looking at you sheepishly, “But I’m not a stranger now, am I? Not with all the things I’m doing to their little princess,” she says, a smirk evident on her lips.

Your cheeks heat up at her words, choosing to ignore her insinuation, you said, “To them, you are a stranger, and I can’t exactly introduce you to them as my friend because that just feels wrong.”

You could see the pout forming on the latina’s lips and you wanted nothing more than to kiss it away. It seems as though Daniela read your thoughts because not even a minute later her hand brushes your cheeks before leaning into you, taking your lips in a slow kiss.

“Alright, I’ll go,” Daniela says, her lips still on yours, “I’ll miss you,” she utters.

You bite her bottom lip, urging her to kiss you once again, “Don’t be silly, we’ll see each other on campus.”

Daniela Avanzini is truly addictive—a girl like her is hard to let go of and you are certain that you are the luckiest person alive knowing that you get to call her your girlfriend, albeit not publicly. The mere knowledge that she likes you is enough.

However, it would be a lie if you said that it didn’t bother you: keeping your relationship secret. You were a private person yourself, but lov—liking Daniela feels like it isn’t enough; you feel the need to tell the world that you are hers.

You couldn’t help but compare yourself to her ex boyfriend, a famous jock in your highschool, and how public their relationship was. It wasn’t that you were jealous. No—but you sure feel envious of what they had.

How freely he could visit Daniela at her home, her family welcoming him with open arms. How he could easily tag along with Daniela’s friends when they hangout. How he was able to tell the whole school how much Daniela meant to him.

You weren’t jealous of him, but you envied what he had with Daniela. Because as much as the latina makes an effort to see you, it feels like the effort to hide you from her life was bigger.

Like how she barely acknowledges you at school, the way she makes an effort to go to campus at a ridiculously early hour just to slip a note in your locker so that no one would see her, how she would visit your home late at night and having to sneak her in. Although it hasn’t been long, she already means the world to you, and whenever your mind touches these thoughts, you can’t avoid the bitter feeling that grows in your chest.

But deep inside, you knew that Daniela was worth the wait. You don't know how much time she needs before she feels comfortable enough to let this secret out, but until then, you would settle for anything that the girl was ready to give.

Saturday rolls around and you could barely contain your excitement. It has been a while since you actually went out with Daniela; she only either sneaked into your room or she’d pick you up to sneak you into hers.

You find yourself overthinking about what to wear to your date with the blonde, not wanting to go overboard but also wanting to look pretty for the girl. You settled with a casual outfit that you were comfortable in, but tried to make an effort in your appearance by putting on some makeup.

Not long after getting ready, you received a text message from your girlfriend. You smiled at her words before typing in your response.

Double checking whether everything is in place, you gathered your stuff and headed out the house. As much as you were pretty introverted, your parents don't exactly question you as much when you leave because for the most part, they assume that you’ll be out singing at cafes.

When you arrived at the gas station, you could already see the striking red car of your girlfriend. Daniela spots you from the driver’s seat and immediately vacates her vehicle to greet you.

The blonde carefully studies your frame from your shoes til her eyes slowly reach yours, taking in your appearance, “You look amazing,” She said, seemingly breathless.

You’re sure that a pink tint has appeared on your cheeks as you feel them heat up at your girlfriend’s compliment mixed with her intense stare, “And you look beautiful, Dani, as always.”

The blonde steps into your personal space and wraps her arms around you, a hand reaching the back of your head, urging you to bury your face onto the crook of her neck.

“I missed you,” Daniela says as she plants a soft kiss on your temple, still holding onto you. You were grateful that she was practically shielding you from the world because it meant that you could hide the stupidly big smile on your lips, feeling both joyful and perplexed at the public display of affection coming from the latina. You truly prayed for times like this.

The mere action made you hopeful; perhaps things are finally about to change.

Little did you know, you were right—things were about to change, but not for the better.

The film that you watched was great. Sure, it was scary and you had a few jumps and shrieks which were embarrassing to say the least, but every time you did so, Daniela held you as close as possible, so you still considered it as a win.

As the movie ended, both of you made your way out of the cinema, “Dani,” you called out to the blonde, “I’ll just go to the bathroom real quick,” you informed her.

She nodded and said, “Alright, I’ll be waiting for you outside.”

As Daniela exited the cinema, she heard a familiar voice calling her, “Dani?” The latina freezed at her spot, trying to calm her nerves before turning around to face the girl who was already smiling widely at her.

“Hey Hailey,” the latina greeted her friend, feeling uncomfortable but trying her hardest not to let it show, “You watched the movie?”

The other blonde shook her head no, “We’re just about to watch it, but I thought I saw you leaving the cinema so I followed you just to be sure.”

“Why didn’t you say that you were going to go to the movies? We could’ve gone together!” Hailey said, then suddenly she squints her eyes at the latina, “Or are you here on a date? Oh my god Daniela, who are you with?”

Daniela tried to act nonchalantly, rolling her eyes at her friend’s excitement with a smirk on her face. She knew that you could come out any minute, and that there’s probably no way out of this situation so she tried her best to save her face.

“Oh god, you won’t even believe me if I told you,” Daniela said, a laugh laced with her tone, “I went with Y/N.”

“What?” Hailey looks surprised, “I didn’t know you two were friends?”

“We’re not,” Daniela laughs lightly, “It’s a bit of a long story so I’ll text you the details later, but yeah…” the girl trailed off, “She seems to admire me so I went with it, and in return I get free booze and food from her,” Daniela laughs.

Her friend widens her eyes before she laughs with her friend, “Oh my god, Daniela! You must be so bored with your life! That’s so funny though,” the girl laughs, “And really smart, damn.”

“Yeah,” The latina agrees, “You know how she sings at some cafes and bars?” Her friend nods, urging her to continue, “Well, let’s just say that I can confirm that the foods and drinks from those places are pretty good.”

Hailey was just about to reply to the other dancer when the pair spotted you exiting the cinema, cutting their conversation to a sudden end. You raised your gaze and your eyes met your girlfriend’s, then her friend’s who was looking at you with amusement in her eyes.

You almost stopped in your tracks knowing that Daniela never told her friends that she even knows you, but seeing the girl’s smile, you felt at ease and decided to approach the pair.

“Hey,” you said, nervously. “Oh my god,” Hailey says, “I have to go, the movie’s about to start.”

She locks eyes with the other blonde before saying, “I’ll catch up with you later, alright? Tell me everything.”

Both you and Daniela watched as the girl entered the cinema, and as she was no longer in sight, the blonde broke the silence, “Hey, you ready to go home?”

You met your girlfriend’s gaze, studying her face, unsure of whether you should ask her about Hailey or not, but decided against it, thinking that if she wants to talk about it, she’ll bring it up.

A small smile appears on your lips before you reply, “Yeah, let’s go.”

part 2 coming soon | main

#katseye #katseye daniela #daniela avanzini #daniela avanzini x reader #daniela avanzini imagines #katseye x reader #katseye imagines #maniac #wlw #manonsmartini

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fluentmoviequoter · 2 days ago

Text

All That Matters

Requested by anonymous: "Alright, could you write Luca with a younger reader (25-28 yes old). She's super sweet and bubbly, basically just a sunny disposition. People think she's too young for him/he's too old for her, like especially her family. She grew up really seeking their approval, like she has a problem trying to make other people happy even if it leaves her exhausted, sad, or uncomfortable. but she won't compromise her happiness this time for anyone because she really loves Luca. Sorry if that's too much. I really love your writing" AND a request that I lost about Luca meeting his shy/innocent girlfriend on the beach and keeping their relationship private

Pairing: Dominique Luca x younger!fem!reader

Summary: You're sweet, bubbly, and perfect for Luca. When people begin judging your relationship because of the age gap, you decide that you, Luca, and the love between you are all that matters.

Warnings: age gap, fluff, brief angst, parental judgement

Word Count: 2.0k+ words

A/N: Thanks for the kind words, anon! And sorry to the other anon whose ask I lost; I hope I remembered the gist of it. :)

“What’d you think of that one, sweetheart?”

Luca looks up from his surfboard when he hears the question. It sounds wrong like the man in the wetsuit is calling someone sweetheart when he shouldn’t be. The word is dripping in condescension, and Luca is prepared to stand up for the woman being addressed with the sarcastic and likely uninvited pet name.

“It was really good!” you reply, smiling brightly.

Immediately, Luca regrets turning his attention away from his board. He’s quickly convinced he can never get it back from you. You playfully shove the surfer, who grips his arm like he’s in incredible pain. At least she’s okay, Luca thinks as he tries to focus on prepping his board for his morning surf.

“Peters was looking at you again,” the man with you complains.

“Why?” you inquire, using your heel to trace a shape in the sand.

With a sigh, he replies, “Don’t worry about it. I’m going back in. Pay attention long enough to give me some honest feedback?”

“You’re always good,” you assure him. “But I’ll try.”

Luca stands and lifts his board while your friend runs into the surf again.

“Good morning,” you greet as he nears you.

“Morning,” Luca replies with a smile. “How’s the surf look today?”

Nodding, you look at the water and say, “Good. Offshore breeze should help, water’s glassier than it was yesterday, and the wave shapes have been nice.”

“You know your stuff.”

You look down at the sand, and Luca decides then he’d love to get to know you.

“I’m Luca,” he says, dropping the end of his board to shake your hand.

“Luca!” your friend calls as he returns from a wave you didn’t witness. “I thought I recognized that board.”

“And I should have recognized the hair,” Luca replies, fist-bumping him.

“How do you two know each other?” you inquire.

They both look pointedly at their boards, and you roll your eyes.

“Better question is, how do you two know each other?” Luca questions.

“He’s my neighbor,” you explain. “He’s trying to ‘get me out of my shell.’ His words.”

“It’s working!” he defends. “You wouldn’t have talked to a stranger on the beach six months ago.”

You lower your voice to confide in Luca, “That’s true.”

“Excuse me,” your neighbor asks, marching toward a surfer you recognize: Peters.

“He doesn’t like Peters looking at you?” Luca deduces.

“I don’t know why,” you say with a shrug. “Good luck surfing. Or have fun, whatever the right phrase is for non-competitive wave riding.”

“Either works. And between you and me, it’s because you deserve better than Peters.”

You look down again, but you’re smiling, so Luca decides to use this opportunity like a perfect wave and ride it for as long as possible.

“Would you like to get dinner with me?” he proposes.

Looking up, you answer, “I’d love to.”

That evening, Luca glances at his watch while Street and Tan argue about which restaurant makes better cheesecake. He needs to leave now, or he’ll be late to your first date, and while you seem incredibly sweet and would probably understand, that isn’t how he wants to start a relationship with you.

“Guys, I’m gonna head out!” he calls, pointing over his shoulder.

“What? Why?” Street inquires. “We’re going to your favorite place!”

“You don’t know what my favorite place is, Streeter. And the waves are going to be perfect in the morning, so I need some rest. Have fun!”

After he leaves his team, he meets you at an oceanside restaurant and takes your hand as you’re led to a table on the deck. The more you talk and open up, Luca realizes that you’re not only sweet, you’re downright bubbly, and possess a sunny disposition about everything in the world. Yes, you’re innocent and can be shy, but you open up to Luca. He knows he was right this morning, and he needs to know everything about you.

Four Months Later

“Pretty dress,” your mother compliments at family dinner.

“Thank you! Luca got it for me,” you reply, holding the skirt as you look down at the dainty details lining the top.

“You’re still with him?” your father inquires. “Sweetheart, I’m glad you’re happy but you are too young for him.”

Your mom lays her hand on his arm as she amends, “He’s quite a bit older than you.”

You swallow harshly, fighting the urge to do something that will regain their approval. You’ve been trying to make them happy your entire life, and when they continuously bring up the age difference between you and Luca, it makes you sad.

“Why don’t you go out with that neighbor of yours?” your mother suggests. “The surfer with the pretty hair?”

Because then you’d complain there’s too much sand in my house. Rather than voicing that opinion, you remind her, “He has a fiancé. And she’s one of my best friends.”

“Maybe I can set you up with a son of one of my buddies,” your father says.

You nod, picking at the appetizer on your plate with no trace of your usual smile. Being aware that you’re a people pleaser doesn’t make dealing with the emotions of disappointing someone any easier.

“I’m happy,” you say softly.

“For now,” your father grumbles.

You decide to change the topic, and as the night goes on, the heaviness in your stomach seems to weigh you down. When you return home, you’re inexplicably exhausted, sad with yourself and your parents, and uncomfortable. You never feel like this with Luca because he accepts you for who you are and doesn’t take advantage of your tendencies to do all you can and more for others. It’s one of the many reasons you love him.

As you lie awake in bed, you make a decision. Your happiness is the only thing that matters. And starting now, you will not compromise your happiness or relationship for anyone. You’ll do it for yourself and for Luca.

“How’d your dinner go?” Luca inquires, brushing a stray hair from your face.

You shrug, and Luca brushes his lips against your temple.

“I don’t want to disappoint them,” you admit. “But I don’t want to put us at risk to do that.”

“Do you care about the age gap?”

“Of course not!”

“Then that’s what’s important. Everything is up to you. I know it’s not easy to hear and even harder to put it into practice but doing what makes you happy is the only way you’ll get what you deserve. You’re sacrificing yourself for others.”

“I just don’t understand why they can’t accept that you make me happy. They don’t care that I love you.”

Luca’s brows raise as he smiles. You realize what you admitted but can’t ask if he’s okay with you saying it before Luca pulls you into a hug that makes all your worries and discomfort disappear.

Luca’s phone buzzes during a sparring match. When he remembers that you are one of the few people who can reach him while he’s at the station, he calls timeout. Ignoring Street’s protests, he lifts his phone and reads the message.

“I gotta go,” he tells his team. “Family thing.”

“You’ve been having a lot of family things,” Deacon says.

“Just tell us what’s going on, man,” Hondo invites. “You know we’re here for you. Don’t have to keep sneakin’ off if you let us help.”

“I…” Luca hesitates, then says, “I don’t know if you can help me get my future in-laws to like me.”

Deacon and Hondo’s jaws drop, and Street snatches Luca’s truck keys out of his hand.

“We’re meeting her right now,” he declares. “Wasn’t a question either, and I can beat you if you try to take these keys back.”

“She’s not feeling great right now,” Luca argues. “Next time.”

Tan pulls Luca’s phone from his hand and taps the message. Luca tries to get his phone back, but Hondo reaches it first. Lifting it to his ear, he raises his hand toward Luca and says, “It’s ringing.”

Luca stops. He’s almost sure you will hang up when you realize it isn’t him calling, but Hondo has a way of disarming people, and you already see the best in everyone you meet.

“Hi,” Hondo greets. “My name is Daniel Harrelson; I work with Luca.” He smiles and holds Luca’s gaze as he says, “Yes, I am Hondo. And Luca is fine. My team and I just wanted to ask if we can finally meet you. Luca hasn’t said a word about you.”

Hondo ends the call a moment later and returns Luca’s phone without a word.

“She said she’ll have coffee and desserts ready when we get there.”

“Watch him,” Deacon warns Luca.

“Alright,” Luca says. He chuckles and shakes his head before inviting his team to follow him to your house. He doesn’t mention that you’re young, sunny, or nearly perfect, but he’s sure they’ll realize quickly. If they disapprove of the relationship, Luca may have to make the hardest decision of his life.

Hondo, Deacon, Street, and Tan watch as you greet Luca at the door. They realize imediately that Luca is in love. Not like the love he’s claimed to be in before, but really, truly, madly in love. What makes Deacon smile is that you are, too. Three of the four men on your walkway don’t notice that you’re younger than Luca, at least not right away. The fourth notices, but only to make well-meaning jokes and take jabs at Luca while they bicker.

“Nice to meet you all,” you say after introductions. “Luca’s told me a lot about you.”

Luca cuts in before Hondo can remind you that they haven’t heard about the relationship.

“We kept the relationship private,” he explains.

“He means he decided to keep me from any possible judgement,” you explain. “I’m getting enough grief from my parents about the age gap without inviting more people to comment on it.”

“I mean I wasn’t going to say anything,” Street begins.

“Then don’t,” Deacon interjects. “He’s kidding.”

Tilting your head, you look at Street, then say, “You’re funny.”

“If you ever get tired of Luca or he throws his back out surfing or something, I’m right here.”

“And you said I’d have to worry about Hondo,” Luca murmurs to Deacon.

“What is that wonderful smell?” Hondo inquires.

“Maybe it’s both of them,” Deacon replies.

“I made some scones, chocolate chip muffins, and brownie bites this morning,” you remember excitedly. “There’s also fresh-brewed coffee. Follow me.”

Luca watches as his team gets to know you. They support the relationship - which they ensure they voice to Luca upon returning to the station - and clearly appreciate your sweet and bright personality. It’s a welcome light in their sometimes dim day-to-day lives.

“So, what are you doing about the parents?” Street inquires as he reaches for another brownie. “If you decide to cut them loose, Deacon and Annie would probably adopt you.”

You look to Deacon, smiling as you expect a deadpanned response that will make you laugh.

“Annie’s going to love you,” he begins. “So, I actually don’t have a response to that because it probably would happen.”

“I think you should just introduce Luca to your parents,” Hondo says, breaking a muffin into smaller pieces. “If we can see how happy the two of you are together, anyone can.”

You look to Luca and decide to do just that. It won’t be an overnight change, but if they see that you love him, they’ll grow to accept him. You and Luca are the only people that matter in your relationship, and you’re happy with him and him alone.

“When’s your birthday?” Tan asks. “We’ll add it to the calendar.”

“What calendar?” you ask.

“The family calendar,” Luca tells you. “I wasn’t kidding when I said if they like you you’re stuck with them.”

Smiling, you ask, “What else is on the calendar?”

“Not your parents’ birthdays!” Street exclaims from the living room, looking at your pictures.

#dominique luca x fem!reader #dominique luca x reader #dominique luca fic #dominique luca #swat x reader #swat imagine #swat fic #fem!reader #requests #hanna writes✯#dominique luca fluff #dom luca x reader #luca x reader

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lonely-ey3s · 2 days ago

Text

With All My Love (joel miller x f!reader, no outbreak) Chpt 4

Chapter 4: Casualties

Word count : 14.1k

Chapter Summary: You and Joel have your first Skype call together and continue to do so in the following weeks. You both get closer and fall deeper for each other, hinting towards a definite future together. A few weeks later after an incident that happened between you and Terrence's replacement, you open up to Joel about your past abuse and you two become closer by how he talks you through it but also by acts he demonstrates to show you what you mean to him. In the following weeks, just when you think things have calmed down, you and Maria are told you are going on a special assignment to rescue a higher-ranking officer, going to a location you aren’t sure if you will make it out - as you’ll be heading into no man's land.

Chapter warnings: fluff, flirting, mutual pining, language, mentions of combat and war, blood, violence, hand-to-hand combat, mentions of guns and a knife, hate speech (not by either of our babies), anxiety, panic attacks, use of Y/N, mentions of abuse, descriptions of injuries, angst.

A/N: oh my, this one is a big one but it was necessary for chapters to come! i hope you enjoy it as much as i loved writing it! please like, comment, and repost if you want to see more! thank you for all the support you've given me with the first 3 chapters, i've loved to see and hear everyone's thoughts and love! i love these two and am so happy their story is coming together - ugh love it! xx

Dividers by: @saradika-graphics

Main Masterlist

As soon as Joel hit ‘Accept’ you came onto the screen, earbuds in your ears, smiling brightly. You had an oversized shirt on and your hair down, flowing to one side. “Hey there handsome!” you said smiling and talking in a soft voice, like you might have been trying to stay quiet.

“Wow…” he said out loud without realizing.

You softly giggled and blushed, “Joel, can you hear me?” you asked as his response was a little unexpected but had butterflies erupting throughout your stomach.

“Y-Yeah, I can hear you darlin’...” he smiled and chuckled, shyly dragging his fingers through his hair.

“Darlin’...? I’ve been wondering what that southern drawl sounds like, and I must say, I will most definitely never tire of it.” you smiled brightly.

He smiled brightly, “I’m sorry if I woke you up, I uh… I did the math and thought you wouldn’t maybe see my message for a few more hours.”

You shook your head and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, “You’re sweet, you didn’t wake me. I woke up cuz it’s so damn hot here, couldn’t sleep.” looked up hearing someone stir in the room then looked back down at the screen, “Sorry, I’m tryna keep quiet, everyone else is asleep but I wanted to see you as soon as I could after finally seeing you were able to message!” you bit your bottom lip, “Sorry it took so long, it’s been a busy few weeks here.” you looked at him, he was in awe and captivated by how beautiful you looked.

“So you’ve said darlin’. I’m just glad to know you’re alright.” he licked his lip and smiled softly, “You had me worried for a while, can’t have that pendant of yours failin’ me…”

You blushed “No we can’t have that, can we?”

Joel smiled and shook his head, the silence and tension between the two of you palpable.

You cleared your throat softly, blushing, “Did you and Sarah have a good 4th of July weekend?”

He nodded, “Yeah, we did. She had a soccer tournament on Friday out of town so we took a little getaway with my brother, Tommy, he has a boat, and so we spent all of yesterday on Canyon Lake just outside of Austin… we took lots of pictures for you.” he winked.

You would never get tired of hearing his voice. You nodded along as he talked, “That sounds like a lot of fun. Did you guys get to barbeque on the lake or eat any good food?”

“Yeah, we did some burgers and hotdogs on a portable grill we had, wasn’t so bad.” He smiled, “What about you? Didn’t you guys have somethin’ like Spam and potatoes or somethin’ like that?” he hadn’t realized he may have let part of Tommy and Maria’s conversation slip, he was just so focused on you, his brain shut off somewhat.

You chuckled and tilted your head confused, “Yeah… we did… how did you know that? You spyin’ on me somehow Joel Miller?”

Joel’s face fell a little, realizing he slipped, “I uh…”

You looked at him and chuckled, “You ok handsome? Cat got your tongue?”

He took a deep breath, he wasn’t going to start this off with dishonesty, so he anxiously scratched his scruff and then looked down a his lap, “Uh… so funny story…” he lightly let out a chuckle nervously.

You had learned with your ex and parents to pay attention to body language and tone, so you sat up a bit straighter, anxious, a weight instantly dropping in your stomach, ‘Shit, he just got nervous’ you thought. “Joel, what’s going on?” you said softly.

He noticed your immediate reaction, looked back up at you, and then softly smiled, “Oh no, sweetheart, nothin’ is wrong…” he bit his lip and thought of how to say what he was about to say, “You umm… you have a nickname for Maria’s pen pal…” he paused, “Reginald right?”

You nodded slowly and then started to put the dots together, Maria had already suggested that they were related, you just didn’t think it could happen. Then you realized how the hell he knew that name then you turned bright red, “You… oh my god.” you laughed and covered your face with your hands, embarrassed. “Oh my god, you saw me make a fool of myself on Maria’s Skype call yesterday!”

Joel laughed and bit his lip at your reaction, finding your embarrassment and shyness so fucking cute. “I um, I didn’t see you, but I was in the room when Tommy Skyped her, I heard your sweet voice though, it drove me mad to not be able to see you and say hello…”

You peeked through your hands, blushing madly, “Oh god, I’m so embarrassed… you weren’t supposed to see that side of me already!”

He let out a deep gut laugh, leaning his head back against the headboard, and you started to giggle back, covering your mouth, trying not to wake the others.

“Stop laughing, I’m serious! You’re only supposed to see the lady-like side of me before you see the goof that Z and Maria have brought out in me..” you smiled at him slowing down your giggling, tucking your hair again behind your ear.

He slowed down his laugh and smiled softly at you, eyes bright and cheeks red, thinking, thanking the universe for hearing your laugh so much tonight, “Nah, I like the goof in you, it made me smile like a fuckin’ idiot hearing you. Tommy gave me so much shit after…” he admitted.

You smiled brightly knowing you had that effect on him, “Like an idiot huh? I’ll have to keep that up, I wanna see that type of smile on your handsome face.” you threw at him, he instantly blushed then jumped slightly when he heard Sarah knock on his door.

“Dad? Are you good? I see we have a casualty of pasta on the floor downstairs…” she said through the door.

You listened closely, smiling hearing Sarah’s voice, and chuckling at her joke.

“Yeah, I’m good baby girl! I’m just on a Skype call with Y/N, umm, I left my wallet on the counter, could you order some takeout? Your choice!” he smiled down at you, watching you listen.

Sarah smiled brightly hearing that he was talking to you. “Yeah of course Dad! Tell Y/N hi for me and thank her for my bracelet! And I will bring in your food when it gets here!”

Joel looked down at you, “You hear all that?” he asked.

You nodded, “Can she hear me?”

He shrugged, “Maybe?” he chuckled.

You grinned and then put a finger up to signal to hold on, you set the laptop down on the floor you had been sitting on and then stood up, Joel seeing you only had that oversized shirt on and some very short shorts on under, his breath hitched and felt himself instantly grow hard. His throat went dry, “H-Hold..” he swallowed, “Sarah hold on a sec…!” he shouted at Sarah through the door, voice cracking a little.

She peeked her head in and giggled hearing the voice crack, “Yeah Dad?” he pulled a pillow quickly over his lap, and held up a finger like you, “Wait one sec.”

He saw you pick up the laptop and then quietly tried to walk through the dark room, only to stub your toe on something, “Ow, fuckin’ shitballs.” you winced, hopping on one foot.

Sarah snorted holding in a laugh at your remark. Joel looked down at you and chuckled at your phrase as well, “You ok darlin’?”

You nodded and whispered, “Yeah, yeah just stubbed my toe. Sorry for cussing Sarah…”

You walked out of the room and quietly shut the door and looked around, one soldier saw you a few feet away and wolf whistled your way, “Damn Y/N, didn’t know you had that fat of an ass! Come over and sit on my lap mama!”

Joel visibility got jealous, jaw clenched and zeroing in on the piece of shit talking to you that way.

“Martinez, the only woman that would ever touch you without a ten-foot pole is your mama. Shut the fuck up and keep your eyes off my ass.” you shot back without missing a beat, walking away from him, finding somewhere to sit that was a bit more quiet.

Joel smirked, and whispered under his breath, “That’s my girl..”

You smiled and blushed to hear him say that, looking down at him. You looked around and then sat down against an abandoned house, and then let out a sigh, “Sorry, that took longer than a minute, is Sarah still able to hear me?”

“I can hear you!” Sarah shouted from the doorway.

“Oh! Lovely! Hi Sarah! I’ve heard such good things about you. I’m glad you like your bracelets, I’ll be sending something else for you and your dad in my next parcel.” you smiled at Joel and winked.

He smiled brightly and then looked at Sarah then at you, “Do you guys wanna say hello? You don’t have to shout at each other...” he chuckled.

You smiled and tucked your hair behind your ears, “I’d love to but only if Sarah is comfortab-” Before you could finish your sentence Sarah had jumped on the bed by Joel, hugging his arm and leaning into the screen. “Hey there!” she smiled, “Oh my gosh, your hair is so pretty down! Is that your natural color?”

You nodded and smiled, “Thank you! Yes, it is! I love your curls- I’m envious of them! I’ve always wanted curly hair!” you giggled.

Sarah giggled, “They are a lot to manage but I do love ‘em!” she smiled and looked at Joel who was soaking in the moment, he was practically glowing.

“I heard you had a soccer tournament this weekend, how did it go? What position do you play?” you asked.

“We placed second and I scored two goals, one of them won the game for us! Dad took pictures…” she looked back at Joel, “Can you send them to her?”

Joel nodded and then looked at you, “Yeah I’ll message them to you later.” he smiled.

Sarah smiled and looked back at you, “I play a center forward, do you play soccer?” she asked.

“I played a little as a kid with like my schoolmates but never competitively like you. However, I did just learn some tricks that some of the kids here taught me, I’ll have to show you someday and you can show me what you can do!” you said softly smiling and messing with the hem of your shirt.

“I’d like that. Do you know when your tour is over?” she asked abruptly.

Joel didn’t even think to ask that question. He perked up and looked at you.

“I’ve been told that if things keep going the way they do, I’ll be home in the spring. If they get better, I could be home either right before or after the holidays but it’s been crazy here, so I’m keeping my expectations low, you know?” you said looking at the hem of your shirt, the thought of you not being home til spring made you anxious.

Joel could tell your mood shifted, “Well Sarah and I will hope for sooner, home for the holidays, yeah?”

You looked up and softly nodded and smiled, agreeing.

“I have one last question and then I’ll go order take out…” Sarah said curiously.

“Alright kiddo, shoot.” you looked her way.

“Why Reginald?” she tilted her head.

You let out a laugh, “Oh jeez..” you began to chuckle, “Ok, so when Maria and I sent our letters at first to your dad and your uncle, we knew nothing about them. I teased her because she sprayed hers with her perfume. I said she had no idea who or where her letter was going, it could be an old guy in a nursing home and said his name is probably Reginald or something… as that was before I knew her pal’s name, but the joke stuck and it continues to push her buttons.” you chuckled.

Joel chuckled at your sense of humor and Sarah did as well, “I like that, it’s like you're calling him an old man… I’m going to call him that now too, especially when he’s being annoying… which is all the time.” she emphasized.

You giggled and nodded, “You can tell him that Maria’s lovely, awesome, never annoying at all roommate said you could use it if he gets mad, he can take it up with me.” you winked.

Sarah nodded and smiled, “Will do, thanks for the ammo!” she giggled and then slid off the bed, “I’m going to go order food, I’m starving! It was nice meeting you, have a good rest of your night- well day for you!” she said smiling brightly at the camera before running out of the room shutting the door behind her.

You chuckled at Joel “She’s a fun kid. I can see a lot of you in her…” you smiled at him.

He smiled warmly, “Thanks darlin’, that means a lot.”

You sat in silence together for a moment before you spoke up “Sorry to have crashed your dinner plans, did I hear there was a pasta casualty?”

Joel chuckled lightly and looked down shyly, “I may have heard your message notification ding, and may have dropped everything I had in my hands to run over to my laptop, then after seeing your message, may have ran upstairs to call you, abandoning the mess…”

“Oh I see… so there are only allegations against you, no concrete evidence tying you to the scene of the crime, innocent until proven guilty, am I right?” you teased.

He looked up at you and chuckled, “Exactly.”

You smiled warmly and sighed contently.

“In my defense, and all honesty, I will drop whatever I’m doing to give you my time and attention… you know for the record.” he winked, smiling brightly.

You blushed and looked down shyly, smiling from ear to ear, “Now here I go smiling a fuckin’ idiot.”

He chuckled and then bit his bottom lip, “Look at me when you’re doin’ that darlin’, I wanna see that beautiful smile.”

You blushed harder and looked at him, laughing at how silly you must’ve looked, “God, you can’t keep sayin’ things like that, Joel Miller!”

He loved the way you said his name, but even more, he loved your laugh. He would forever have it programmed into his brain, on repeat, along with the image of your smile tattooed right beside it.

He bit his lip, loving seeing you like this. He thought he was out of practice with his flirting but clearly, he had quite the effect on you. “You keep smilin’ and laughin’ like that, and we are gonna have a different problem with what you're doin’ to my heart darlin’...”

“I could say the same about you cowboy…” you said as you came down from your laugh.

Before Joel could say anything back he heard someone call your name in the background, you looked up, looking around, and he heard them say ‘We have 3 wounded coming in and could use the extra hands if you’re awake, can you help?’

“Uh, hold on one sec Benson!” You looked back down at Joel, clearly torn on what to do.

“Go, it’s ok sweetheart, they need your help. How about we do this weekly, yeah? Keep the letters coming as usual, and just do this in addition at least once a week… more if we are feelin’ freaky” he chuckled and winked.

You nodded and softly smiled, “Yes, let's do that. I’ll message you later, ok?”

He nodded, “Go save some lives! I’ll talk to you soon.”

You smiled and blushed, “I’ll talk to you soon.” you stood up and ended the call.

Joel sat in his bed, beaming, feeling happier than he’d ever felt before.

He heard a ding and looked at his laptop:

‘I know it's been less than a minute but I miss you and your voice already, wanna Skype again later? ❣️🥺’

He chuckled and typed back:

‘I was just thinkin’ of messaging you the same thing, beautiful 😘 Just message me when you’re free and I’ll call you! ❤️’

Reader’s POV

2 weeks later

You and Joel had Skype called a few times in the last couple of weeks, more than the once-a-week foundation you laid out.

You could tell that not only yourself, but he was addicted to hearing from each other. It was the highlight of your day when it happened and made your whole chaotic world slow down.

Z and Maria met him on the last call two days ago when they crashed your call, just like you did to Maria. You couldn’t help but laugh at the karma.

Maria and Tommy Skyped more often than you and Joel, they even started to flirt themselves as you heard eavesdropping on her last call. You and Z would giggle at her attempt to flirt outside of the window while listening together.

You sent your disposable camera back to Joel a week ago along with another letter and parcel. This one included little candies that Z had shown you that you decided you had to share with Joel and Sarah.

Z and you were glued at the hip, now that he was back to pretty much his full health, he helped in the clinic when you’d work if he wasn’t off playing with other boys in the village. He would help gather supplies and translate if needed between you and injured or sick village folk.

He taught you how to say things so that when he wasn’t around you knew what to say or ask. He was patient and admired how you wanted to learn the language instead of being ignorant like most other soldiers.

Since Terrance had been discharged to go home, Reggie got a new partner, right after you guys got back, his name was Braedon. However, something about him just didn’t feel right to any of you. He only cared about himself and Reggie even felt something off about him, he just couldn’t place it other than he was self-centered and only worried about climbing the ranks, not about saving the lives needing it or making personal sacrifices. You couldn’t stand him as he always had something smart to say or just wasn’t useful, someone always having to babysit him.

—

July 20th, 2014

13:09

You were cleaning out a wound in the medical tent, a small group had just rolled in from a camp 2 miles north that was overrun. Maria and Reggie were on the other side dealing with their problems while Braedon stood there, not jumping in to help with the obvious load.

You were tired, hungry, and frustrated, and you didn’t have time to babysit.

“Hey Braedon, there’s a head lac in bay 2, can you take care of that?” you yelled at him over the screams of pain from your patient and the normal hustle and bustle of the med tent.

He looked at you and rolled his eyes, annoyed, “Yep.” then said something under his breath as he walked over to bay 2 and began working.

Z was standing next to you and saw the reaction as well, he looked up at you, “What’s his problem?”

You narrowed your eyes at him, glaring, you scoffed, “I don’t know Z… but it’s about to be an earful from me…” you clenched your jaw, temper starting to boil.

You addressed the wound you were cleaning. You began packing it, starting a line of fluids, and making sure the patient was comfortable, when you looked at Z, “Start to gather gauze and a pair of gloves for the guy over in bay 9, and then wait for me there.” Z nodded and then left to do what you said.

Your blood was now boiling, fists balled. You were done with his selfishness and shitty attitude. He tended to hit the right buttons and now that you think about it, he reminded you of your ex. The difference between the two was you didn’t take that bullshit anymore and were a United States Army medic, which had given you a newfound confidence, and a ‘fuck around and find out’ attitude.

You walked up and stood across from him as he was working on a patient that seemed to now be unconscious, “Alright, I’m just gon’ cut the bullshit and say what I want to say to you because I am for one sick of the bullshit fake ‘team effort’ you seem to put on only when commanding officers are around for you to brown nose.” You clenched your jaw and narrowed your gaze, “I’m not here to fuckin’ babysit you, neither is Reggie and neither is Maria. The four of us, we are a team - hell you and Reggie are partners, start acting like it.’ You raised your voice slightly, frustrated by his lack of urgency with Tier 1 trauma patients like this one below you, “Next- if you see someone fuckin’ bleedin’, you need to put the two goddamn brain cells you seem to possess, together, and jump in - do your fucking job.” You make eye contact with him, eyes dangerous and threatening, fists balled so tight you are putting nail marks into your palms, “Lastly, the next time you roll your eyes at me, say some backhanded comment, or cop an attitude in the slightest, I’ll knock your head so hard, it’ll fuckin’ spin.” you said lowly, giving him a fake two-second smile after. “Glad we can now be on the same page…” you bit out and then you turned around to walk away towards the bay you told Z to go to, shaking your hands out at your side, letting that energy go.

Just as you were walking around the outside of the tent, several feet away from Z, you felt a tug at your left shoulder before you were spun around and a fist met the left side of your jaw, disorienting you for a moment, knocking you to the ground, and then immediately being kicked in the ribs a few times. “I’ll talk to you however I fucking want, you fucking bitch!” then a glob of spit landed on your cheek. “You and that dirty fuckin’ terrorist kid can fuck off!” he said referring to Z.

You’ve never seen red and felt so much rage before. Your heart began to pound in your chest so loud you heard it in your ears, and heat rose from your back to your head.

You grabbed a fist full of dirt from the ground and threw it up into his eyes, then grabbed his foot and knocked him to the ground, straddling his waist. You landed a blow to his nose, then another, harder, hearing it crack. You grabbed him by the jaw to center his face with one hand and then punched him again in the cheek, blood now running from his nose and mouth.

Z screamed your name, telling you to stop.

You didn’t hear anything, adrenaline muting out your surroundings, only focusing on him.

Braedon flipped you off of him and tried to straddle you, to pin you down, but you did a maneuver to get out from under him and instead on top of him, putting him in a chokehold, then flipping around to one side and slamming yourself on the ground on your back, holding him against you, wrapping your legs around his knees, locking your ankles to immobilize him. He began elbowing your ribs over and over to get away, scratching at your arms, but you just tightened your grip, numb to the pain with the adrenaline coursing through your body. He started gasping for air, and you felt his body go slowly limp, so you let him go, he rolled to the side and choked for air.

You stood up and felt blood coming from your lips and nose. You touched your lip and saw blood, “Made me bleed… big mistake.” you said to yourself, eyes focused on him like he was prey.

He was on all fours, coughing, trying to catch his breath, Z ran to get Maria or Reggie after seeing the look you had in your eye.

Your chest was heaving, breathe heavy, but slow and controlled. Rolled your shoulders back, and stepped forward, kicking his tailbone, knocking him flat on the ground, he whined, “Please, I’m sorry…”

Your gaze was cold and numb, not caring about anything he was saying.

“Get up.” you said plainly, unemotionally. He didn’t move. “Get the fuck up!” you raged.

He rose slowly and backed up raising his hands in defeat. “Please Y/N.. I said I was sorry…” he pleaded.

You walked him up against a wall that was behind him, crowding his space, grabbing the collar of his shirt, “Sorry would have cut it if you just went after me, but you went after Z… no apology will take that back, you revolting piece of shit.” you punched him in the jaw as he did to you which made him lean to the left to fall to the ground but then you grabbed him by his shoulders and kneed him in the groin.

You stepped back as he toppled over and fell to the ground, holding his groin and crying in pain, you repositioned and kicked him twice in the torso, cursing him under your breath, you stepped back, he was coughing up blood and gasping for air. You took another step towards him, fist still balled and bloody at your sides, calculating to kick him again in the stomach or face, you didn’t know which, you would just swing.

That’s when you felt Maria. She pulled you back, arms wrapping around your midsection and trapping your arms, picking you up to move you back, “Stop… you need to stop!” you fought against her, not grasping it was her. Rage still taking hold of your senses, “Let me go! Let me fucking go!” Maria looked at Reggie, holding you still, who then went and checked on Braedon.

Z stepped in front of you to block your vision of Braedon which made you snap out of it.

Your vision cleared and you were aware of what you had just done. Your breathing was ragged and uneven, then the pain hit you like a train, “Ah fuck..” you felt your ribs on fire with each breath.

“Ok… there we go… there you are.” she let you go and came in front of you, touching your cheek and shoulder, “Fuck…” she grimaced at your face. “What the hell happened?” she looked over you, assessing you. She knew this wasn’t your fault, something was said or done to provoke this level of violence from you.

You fell to your knees and gripped your rib cage with one hand and your head with the other, in too much pain to understand what she had just asked before you heard Z speak.

“He hit her first.” Z said softly, “I saw it. Then called her a bitch and spit on her… and then called me a…” he stopped and looked down sadly.

Maria looked back at him, “Z, what did he call you?”

You looked at Z who was saddened and most likely ashamed by the slur, “He called him a dirty fuckin’ terrorist, Maria.” you looked past Z, Braedon still on the ground, bloodied and in pain. You clenched your jaw angrily, and took a deep breath, “You don’t say shit like that without consequences.” you looked back up at her, anger in your eyes.

Maria looked back at Braedon and Reggie, “Reggie, get him bay 6 and then get Sarge… a report needs to be filed against him for assault and hate speech.” Reggie didn’t care to question, he also knew you weren’t capable of this level of violence either without being provoked and you all knew there was something off with this guy.

He nodded and had another nearby soldier help him load Braedon onto a transfer cot and then took him to bay 6.

You shook your head to refocus yourself and stood to your feet, starting to walk away, to bay 9, wiping the blood from your nose and lip on the bottom of your shirt.

“Uh, where do you think you’re going?” Maria asked, shocked to see what you were doing.

“I’m fine Maria. We’ve got work to do.” you stopped walking and looked back at Z, “Come on Z, I need your help.” then began walking again, slowly, obvious to everyone you were in pain.

Z looked at Maria, unsure what to do.

Maria sighed at your stubbornness. “Keep an eye on her, we only have a few hours left on shift then I’ll make her get checked out.”

He nodded and ran to catch up with you. You hugged him to your side protectively when he caught up and kissed the top of his head, “No one gets to call you those names, not ever Z.”

He nodded and hugged your side gently back, “Yes, khahar…”

You finished your shift and then snuck away to your bunkhouse as you saw Maria still knee-deep in a patient and Z left about an hour ago to play soccer with some of his friends after you put on a brave face to convince him you were fine. You closed the door with a chair up against it and started to take off your shirt, wincing in pain. You took it off and looked at yourself in the mirror, accessing the damage.

Your ribs were lightly bruised which would be the start of an ugly sight. You had scratch marks up and down your forearms from when you had him in a chokehold. You took a deep breath through your nose and then looked at your face, your nose had dried blood coming from it, but no signs of it being broken that you could see. Your lip was swollen and broken slightly, but not the worst it’s been.

You tilted your head back and forth to stretch your neck as there was a pain in it from the punch, most likely whiplash.

You saw the picture you had of Sarah and Joel taped to your mirror and sighed sadly, “Crap, he’s going to lose his shit.” you pinched the bridge of your nose and closed your eyes, a raging headache starting.

You heard the door handle twist and then try to open, “God damn it. Y/N, let me in!” Maria sighed, shouting through the door.

You came to the door and moved the chair, twisting the handle to open the door, “I’m not going to the med tent, I already did an assessment. In conclusion, I got fucked up. Bruised ribs and whiplash but that’s it.” you said as if that was going to stop her from dragging you to the clinic herself.

“Nice try, you need to get checked out. Sarge’s orders. He needs it for the report, he also needs your statement.” She argued.

“But I-” you looked at her to protest.

“No, now. I came to get you. Go.” she said, not budging.

You sighed and grabbed your shirt, swinging it over your shoulder, walking out of the bunkhouse towards the med tent in your sports bra, subconsciously proud of your battle wounds, wearing them like a badge of honor.

Maria logged onto her computer quickly and sent a message to Tommy:

‘I need you to get a message to Joel as I know it’s their day they Skype. There was an incident today involving Y/N and that other medic that we all knew was a snake. She’s fine, she just has orders to get checked out by the medics and give her statement to our sergeant. I’m not sure if she’ll feel up to Skyping but I just know you told me about Joel's anxiety. I just don’t want him to worry if he calls and she doesn’t answer. Thank you, talk soon. xx’

She then ran to catch up with you.

Joel’s POV

He woke up that sweet Sunday morning at 6 am, excited to hear from you today at around 8 am, which was your normal scheduled time if Sundays went easy for you.

It had only been two days since you two last spoke but for him, it felt like an eternity, he loved the normal scheduled Sunday Skype sessions, but the ones where you or he would randomly say, ‘I miss you, do you have time to talk?’ made him begin to fall in love with you more and more, and the comfort you brought to him, he had no words for it. Even from thousands of miles away, you became an integral part of his life, of his being.

He saw that you messaged him earlier in the day for you before you started your shift:

‘I can’t wait for tonight cowboy! Hope you are sleeping well! 😘’

He smiled and typed back:

‘I’ll see you soon sweetheart. I miss you. ❤️’

A few moments later as he was walking down the stairs he got a text message from Tommy:

‘Hey, you up?’

He texted back almost immediately:

‘Yeah, just about to cook some breakfast before I Skype with Y/N…’

Within seconds he had an incoming call from his brother, he answered, “Hey what’s up?” he smiled softly, walking the rest of the way down the stairs.

“Mornin’... hey uh.. I just got a message from Maria about Y/N...” Tommy said sadly and softly, trying not to set off alarm bells for Joel.

Joel felt his heart drop into his stomach, “What? What do you mean? W-what’s wrong?”

Tommy sighed softly, “Maria said not to panic or worry, she’s fine, she just wanted me to pass along a message to you. I’m going to text you a screenshot of her message, ok?”

Joel put Tommy on speaker and opened up his messages from Tommy, “Yeah, send it.” he said, feeling sick to his stomach.

Tommy sent it, “She sent this about 3 hours ago. I’m not sure what’s going on. Maria said she’d keep me updated, I just messaged her asking for an update but she’s still offline.”

Joel read through the message, twice. “Fuck, what’s that weasel's name, Braedon?” he could feel his anger bubble up, the want to protect you but not being able to from this distance was something he was constantly battling internally.

“Yeah, that’s him.” Tommy sucked in some air and sighed, “Maria has said there was something off about him for a couple of weeks now. He must’ve shown his true colors.”

Joel huffed, frustrated, “Yeah, just did it on my girl… god if I was there I’d-”

Tommy let out a chuckle, “I know, you and me both brother.”

Joel sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Thanks for the update, just let me know if Maria messages back and I’ll let you know if I hear from Y/N…”

“Sounds good, will do. Talk to you later.” Tommy said softly before ending the call.

Joel sighed and shook his head but then decided he wasn’t going to let his consume him, if Maria said you were ok, you were ok.

He started to make breakfast for himself as Sarah had spent the night at a friend's.

About an hour later he heard from Tommy via text:

‘Hey, Maria just messaged me, she said she has 2 broken ribs and a bunch of bruised ones, a fractured nose, a small split on her lip, and a small concussion. They gave her a sedative and she’s sleeping for the rest of the night.’

Within ten seconds he got another text from Tommy:

‘HOWEVER…’

Then another paragraph came through:

‘She said you should see the other guy. I guess Y/N beat the shit out of him. He has 3 broken ribs, several bruised ones, a broken nose, a broken cheekbone, missing 2 teeth, a concussion, a bruised trachea, and get this… a testicular tear. 🤣 Maria said she hit him so hard in the balls that he has a severe bruise and it has torn the protective tissue. He needs surgery for it, LOL. Atta girl 🎉’

Joel chuckled which turned into a guttural laugh the more he read the injuries you inflicted on this piece of shit.

‘Shit. Remind me to never piss her off… haha. Did Maria say when she might be awake? I’d like to check on her.’

‘She said she’d be out the rest of the night for them, I’d say send her a message later tonight, maybe she’ll be awake tomorrow morning for them…’

Joel nodded and sent a thumbs-up emoji back to Tommy before thinking of what to do to fill the rest of his day, then he got an idea.

He grabbed his truck keys and headed to the store.

He got back home a few hours later and started putting everything together. He had grabbed a big box, a sympathy card, a nice fluffy blanket, some of your favorite snacks you had mentioned to him, some icy hot cream, some fuzzy socks with whales on them, some face masks he found on sale, and a candle that he thought smelled like him.

He wrote in the sympathy card:

‘Rest in Peace: Braedon’s ball sack. Cause of death: his own damn fault and my girl standing on business.

I’m sorry to hear you got hurt darlin’. I’m sending this while you’re sleeping off being sedated. Hopefully, you’re feeling much better by the time you get this, but I just wanted to send some stuff that I’d get you if you were actually, well here.

Sarah says you can never go wrong with a nice fluffy blanket. I also got you some of your favorite snacks that I know you’ve been missing since being there. I thought some icy hot would be something ya’ll don’t have on hand and thought it might bring you some relief. Fuzzy socks, with whales, obviously. I thought since Sarah likes these face masks, you might enjoy them too… you can do them with Maria, I sent a few. Finally, a candle. Now something that brings me comfort when I am hurt or sick is cuddling someone that brings me comfort and just inhaling in their shampoo or perfume, their scent. I thought maybe since I can’t be there, this might be a good placeholder. It’s the closest I could tell that smelled like me. Sarah said a mix of eucalyptus and spearmint, so this was the closest to that. :)

Get well soon. I’m proud of you for standing up for yourself, just know in the future, I’ll be the one breaking bones for you. I’ll protect you so you don’t ever have to go through this again. I promise.

With all my love,

Joel’

He didn’t hesitate or think twice about the last part, he meant it with every part of him. He knew neither of you was ready to say the big three words, but this was close enough to express it.

He packed everything in nicely and tightly and then wrote your address and left with it to go to the post office to drop it off.

By the time he got home from the post office, it was 5 pm and the Cowboys game was on. Ironically playing the Broncos.

He kept checking his phone and laptop for any update or message from you or Tommy, but nothing had come in.

It was 9 pm when he started to head upstairs to bed. He started to brush his teeth and wash his face when he heard the beautiful sound of a ‘ding’ from his laptop. He dried off his face quickly and got into bed, sitting against the headboard, eagerly opening up his laptop to see a message from you:

‘Hey cowboy, you still up? ❤️’

He immediately hit the call button, desperate to see you.

Within a couple of seconds, a dark screen came on, and your camera turned off. “Hey handsome.” he couldn’t see if but you were smiling softly.

“Hey sweetheart… I uh… I can’t see you… can you turn your camera on for me?” he said softly.

You swallowed, and took a breath, “Joel… it’s bad… I…”

“I don’t care, I need to see you, please let me see your beautiful face darlin’...” his brown eyes pleading with you, he looked so damn cute when he looked at you like that.

“I… it’s going to be hard to see me, the lights are all off due to my concussion.” you tried to make excuses, you knew it would be hard and upsetting for him to see you like this.

“Baby I don’t care if I can only see that bright smile of yours, I just… I need to know you’re ok. Please?” he smiled softly, trying to plead his case.

You gently chuckled but then winced at the pain caused by that in your ribs, “Ah.. fuck… right, can’t laugh.” you let out a breath.

You turned on the camera, you had an Army hoodie on, hood over your head, Joel could see your face fully due to the brightness of your screen being illuminated against your skin.

His eyes turned sad and he winced, “Oh god… sweetheart. I… what happened?” he reached out and touched the screen like he was trying to touch you, “Tell me what happened baby…”

You rolled your shoulders back and tried to stretch your back, sore. You sighed gently then softly smiled at how he was being, gentle and loving. “Long or short story handsome?”

“Tell me everything baby, I have nothing but time for you…” he softly smiled back.

You told him everything, at least the details you could remember, some of it was fuzzy, but how it started, you would never forget. You explained how he most likely will be dishonorably discharged if you file charges against him for aggravated assault and hate speech. Sarge wanted you to think about it and let him know later today.

“You are filing charges against him, right? I mean he… he put hands on you, fuckin’ spit on your face.” he started to get upset as he realized the utter disrespect he gave you by spitting on you, that alone didn’t sit well with Joel.

You nodded, “Yeah, of course I am. I don’t much care about me getting a few bumps and bruises, I’m more upset about what he said about Z. That’s what filled me with rage, not by being knocked on my ass, it was that fucking…” you visually were getting more upset, anger festering up.

“Hey hey, it's ok baby, take a breath…” he said softly.

You sighed and gripped the bridge of your nose, “I just… I’ve never felt so angry, you know? I… I don’t remember doing half the things I was told I did. I almost killed him at one point they said, one slight movement and boom, broken neck.” you closed your eyes, softly chuckled and then immediately winced again. “I mean, I’ve been beat up before, I know how to take a hit, I know how to take one and stay down, hell that’s why I joined. Came into boot camp with bruised ribs, I’m sure I had a concussion too from the jackass, but that’s not what fueled me.” you shook your head and clenched your jaw. “Sayin’ something that vile, about Z? A kid? That doesn’t just slide off so easily…”

There was a pause, some silence followed by Joel softly speaking up.

“Darlin’, what do you mean you were beat up before you joined?” Joel asked, sadly looking at you.

You hadn’t shared that part of your past with him yet, you never found the right time, it just seemed too heavy to bring up.

You looked at him and sighed before instinctually looking down, embarrassed and for some reason nervous, “I umm..” you swallowed the lump in your throat, tears starting to surface, “His name is Charlie. I, unfortunately, was trapped with him for quite some time. He was my ex, that turned into… well a monster.” you bit the inner part of your cheek, “There’d be days he’d lock me in a room or I’d be so beaten I wouldn’t be able to move. He uh.. he was very emotionally, and mentally abusive but mostly physically abusive.” you looked at him, tears streaming down your face, and took a breath, fiddling with the string of the hoodie, you hadn’t thought of him since meeting Joel, you found such solace and security being in his life. He never made you feel unsafe or undesirable. “The night that I left for good…” your bottom lip quivered.

“Baby, it’s ok, you don’t need t-” Joel softly began.

“No, I do. You deserve to know Joel.” you cut him off and then bit your lip gently, “The night I left, he beat me within an inch of my life. I was coughin’ up blood, barely passed my physical.” you scoffed. “I honestly only made it out alive because he stopped beating me to get the damn takeout he ordered.” you swallowed hard, tears streaming down, you wiped them gently. “When he passed out, I took my shoes, keys, and wallet, and never looked back. I don’t even have a phone when I get back… hell I don’t even have a home to go back to.” You hysterically let out a sad chuckle, then instantly reached down and held your rib cage and groaned, “I just drove and drove and when I saw the recruiting office, I parked my car there, signed on the dotted line, and took the bus to Fort Jackson.” you let out a heavy sigh, “I joined so he wouldn’t find me. I… I filed charges against him numerous times but his buddies worked at the sheriff’s office and nothing ever seemed to stick. I knew I needed to disappear. Plus, I thought that I would have some job experience for when I would get out in the real world if I joined.” you shrugged. “I’m sorry I never told you, it just seemed too heavy to bring up randomly and I guess I was just avoiding letting you know that dark part of my past.”

Joel just sat and listened, supportively nodding and taking in everything you shared with him.

“Baby, have nothing to be sorry for.” he began, “No one will ever hurt you like that, ever again, do you understand me?” he softly said when you finished speaking, and you nodded.

“I will never lay hand on you, and if I ever do, you better leave me after you did what you did to that fool, Braedon. What was it? Testicular contusion with a scrotal tear?” he questioned.

You chuckled and nodded through tears, wincing again. “Stop makin’ me laugh, it hurts!” you teased..

Joel chuckled and apologized and then smiled lovingly at you, “I promise, this will be the last time, at least until you’re here with me, that a man will ever lay hands on you, yeah?”

You smiled lovingly back and nodded, that three-word phrase edging itself on your tongue for the first time. Neither of you had made anything official but it felt like it was an unsaid thing, you know? You both adored each other and from a distance took care of each other. You had both just seamlessly fit together, into each other's routines, expectations and so much more. He felt like your best friend and you were sure he felt the same about you. You had never felt this way about someone before, it scared you but it also felt so freeing. He made you feel like yourself again, she had been lost for so long since Charlie, but Joel brought her out.

He looked at you like there was something worth looking at.

He blushed softly, “You make me really happy, you know that?”

You shrugged and looked away shyly, “Never coulda’ guessed…” you teased and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, “You make me really happy too, cowboy.”

He bit his lip trying to contain his smile, “I like when you call me cowboy too, it uh..” he cleared his throat, looking down shyly, “It’s somethin’ only you have called me. It uh… makes me feel all types of ways darlin’.” he peeked up at you with those big brown eyes, you felt your cheeks heat up and a heat start to form between your legs.

You shyly looked down, “I can relate to that same feeling when you look at me with those big brown eyes of yours...”

He chuckled softly and licked his lips, “I’ll be sure to remember that for future reference.” he started to smirk.

You blushed and smiled widely but then winced, “Ah, damn it, can’t smile and laugh, this sucks.”

He looked at the time, “Do you have to work today?”

You shook your head, “They are tryna tell me to take the day off but we are short-handed already with Braedon now being in critical care adding to the load we have to deal with. I think I’m fine, I’d take it easy.”

Joel raised an eyebrow, “You? Take it easy? Darlin’ takin’ it easy is somethin’ I’ve never seen you do since you’ve been there.” he chuckled, “Take a day, rest. I’m sure if the world turns upside down they’ll come to get you but you don’t need to work, you need to get better.” he softly said, “Please, at least take today off, for me?” he used those big brown eyes.

You shook your head and softly chuckled again, “You are awful cowboy…” you winced. “Usin’ those brown eyes to your advantage, again. But I’m sure you also just saw the time and know if I don’t work, you’ll get more time with me…” you looked at him with your arms folded, raising your eyebrow, which he found adorable.

“You are not 100% wrong sweetheart, but no, I’d let you rest, get some more sleep…” he grinned, “And just call you again later.” he winked.

You bit your lip and shook your head, looking down, “You’re lucky I like you so much cowboy.” you looked back up at him, “Alright, deal. I’ll rest up and then call you back again when you get up to talk shortly before you have to go to work.”

“You seem to forget darlin’, I own the company, I can be as late as I want to if it means I’m talkin’ to you.” he smiled.

You raised your eyebrow and smirked, “Mmm I seem to remember you have a consultation and monthly meeting tomorrow with your crew, all before 9 am. You should you can just… roll in late to those, handsome?”

“For you, absolutely…” he said with zero hesitation or doubt in his voice.

You shook your head smiling like an idiot, not caring that it hurt, and teasingly rolled your eyes, “Get to sleep handsome, you’ve got a big day tomorrow. Call me after your meetings, and I’ll get some more rest. Sound like a plan?”

He nodded and sighed dramatically, “Fine, deal. I’ll talk to you then.”

“Good. Sweet dreams cowboy.” you softly said.

“I will sweetheart, as you’re always in ‘em” he winked.

You bit your lip shyly, “And you in mine. G’night”

“Goodnight sweetheart.”

You hadn’t slept so well in a long time, and just like you said, you were with him in your dreams, wishing it would soon come true.

2 weeks later

You did as you promised and took the rest of that day off, in fact, Joel convinced you to take another day as your pain management was still balancing out. He would check in on you via video chat or messages. He continued to prove he was your rock. He wasn’t going anywhere and even from a distance he provided you with a level of comfort, security, and love that you had never felt.

When you got his care package a few days ago, you have never felt so happy in your life. This man went out and not only gathered things but things with a purpose and reason behind them. He remembered the candy and chips you missed. You had only mentioned them in passing, but he remembered. The candle sent you over the edge emotionally. You laid in your bed that afternoon, tears streaming down your face, eyes closed, holding the candle by your face, wishing, dreaming it was him next to you. You prayed the smell would last until you were back home and could travel to see him. You said you wouldn’t light it for that specific purpose, to make it last.

You hung the card next to his picture on your mirror and looked at the last part constantly, ‘with all my love’... your heart was so full and you knew as soon as you could get home, you wanted nothing more than to be with him. You loved him too, and couldn’t wait to tell him when you were able to say it against his lips or in his arms.

Your injuries slowly but surely healed. You still had issues with your ribs, but you would for a while, but your face and nose healed up nicely.

You pressed charges against Braedon, and after he was medically released he was sent back home. Maria said that she had heard he was trying to press charges against you when you went and discussed it with your commanding officer, they agreed with you, you were acting out of self-defense, and just because he couldn’t defend himself, didn’t mean your actions were like his, assault. However, your commanding officer and you did have a laugh and he told you if there was ever a next time, maybe pull back before you hit them in the balls so hard you lessen their chance to have kids. You said you’d try.

Joel had sent you pictures of the rocking chair he was working on, Sarah even took some of him sanding some wood down and you couldn’t wait to thank her personally for them as it was Joel in his element. Not only that but you couldn’t help but note that he had his biceps flexed, his shirt tightly fitted, he was somewhat sweaty, and wore the most irresistible jeans that hugged him perfectly. You may have kept that one under your pillow and used it late at night when you couldn’t sleep and needed to relieve some tension.

You went back to work full time and continued writing letters to Joel, sending photos you and Maria took. The last few were a little shorter than normal as you two had already spoken to him 3 times this week for at least 2 hours each time, there wasn’t much to write about, but you still wanted to keep up the routine you had, as you loved it was something just between you two.

He mentioned in his last letter that when you got home he would take some work off to spend time with you and wanted to know what you wanted to do in that time, he had a few ideas he said but also wanted to do things you wanted to do as well. You wrote back a few days ago that you wanted him to take you dancing as in one of the last calls you had, he was cooking dinner and had music on in the background and started dancing to make you laugh, he also told you that he and Tommy knew how to line dance and won an award when they were younger, so dancing was a must. You told him you also wanted to host a barbeque with him for Sarah, Tommy, and Maria, and maybe some neighbors too, you wanted to try his baby back ribs he kept going on about and you mentioned you made a really good mac and cheese, the two could be good together. You also asked what his ideas were, wanting to know a sneak peek.

—

August 4, 2014

14:43

You were taking inventory of supplies when your commanding officer came over, you stood to attention and saluted him.

“At ease soldier.” he said sternly.

You stood and put your hands behind your back, still standing respectfully, “Sir?”

“Pack your things, you and your partner are going to aid Delta 42.”

Delta 42. Instantly your stomach sank.

You all had heard of the destruction and loss of lives that happened there. You all called it ‘no man's land’ - no one made it out.

“Sir, may I ask how long this assignment is? To prepare?” you could feel your anxiety rising.

“3 days. You have 3 days to find a superior officer that has sent a distress signal and transport him back here before we pull you out with or without him and god willing with both of you still alive…” he said so unemotionally, so matter of factly, he knew he was sending you and Maria to your possible death.

“Sir, do we have coordinates?” you said, starting to disassociate.

“Everything will be given to you en route. You have 15 minutes…” he nodded and then turned to leave.

You felt your heart race start to race and your breathing became quick and panicked.

‘Breathe in through your nose, out through your mouth’ your mind annoyingly reminded you. You did so a few times and focused on calming your heart rate down.

“Ok… 15 minutes.” you put your clipboard down and ran out of the supply closet towards your bunkhouse. You changed quickly into your gear and then packed what you needed into your bag. You grabbed the photo you have on your mirror of Joel and Sarah and put it into your vest pocket that laid over your heart. Maria came running in shortly after, doing the same thing. Both of you frantically getting your bearings, panicking internally.

You looked at the time, 8 minutes.

Joel and Z. You needed to alert both of them to the situation.

Joel first. You did the math quickly in your head, it was close to 1 am where he was, so you tried calling him, no answer.

“Fuck. Please answer…” you said to the screen.

You tried calling again, no answer, status: offline.

You looked at Maria, she was trying the same thing with Tommy, “You getting him either?”

She shook her head and sighed.

You slammed your hands against the desk, frustrated, feeling so much pressure, “Fuck! 15 minutes isn’t enough!”

You looked at the time, 5 minutes.

You frantically typed:

‘Joel, I was just notified that Maria and I are being sent on an immediate field assignment. Please answer… I need to talk to you.’

You waited for 30 seconds, watching the clock climb closer to the time you needed to leave.

‘Joel, baby, please answer me.’

You tried calling again, no answer.

You sighed heavily and tears began to fall against your cheeks. You had so much to say to him in case you didn’t make it back. You needed to hear his voice one more time.

You took a breath and looked over at Maria, she had no luck either.

You swallowed and debated telling him how severe this was, you didn’t want him to stress for the next few days, but you wanted to say things that would only be said in the event of something serious happening.

You were having an internal battle with yourself that you couldn’t afford to have with the little time you possessed.

Fuck it.

‘I will be back in 3 days. 3 days. I’ll come back to you, I promise. And if by some cruelty I break that promise, just know, you have never left my mind since we met and you won’t until my last breath. You are my waking thought, my sweet dream, and everything in between.’

‘You will always be the one I long for, the love I would cross the universe to find.’

You sobbed, genuinely not knowing if you would now get the chance to say those three words to him, the words he deserves to know you felt for him.

‘I love you cowboy, and I’ll do everything I can to get back to you to tell you that in person.’

You looked at the clock, 3 minutes, you cursed as you shut your laptop “I need to find Z.” you said to yourself and Maria before grabbing your bag and rifle and running out of the bunkhouse. Maria running after you shortly after.

You had no idea where to find him, you hadn’t seen him all day.

“Z?” you frantically looked in the med tent for him, but he wasn’t there.

“Z!” you shouted, Maria as well.

Reggie looked at you both, confused and now concerned seeing how frantic you both were, “What’s going on?”

You looked at Reggie, and you had tears welling up, “We are going to no man’s land. Where’s Z?”

Reggie’s face dropped, “I uh, I don’t know, he usually is by the field if he’s not here…” You instantly bolted that way, you had less than two minutes before you needed to be on that aircraft.

“Z! Azzami!!” you practically screamed, trying to spot him as you ran.

Maria shouted at you “Y/N, we gotta go! We can’t wait any longer… Reggie will tell him!”

You stopped and looked back at her “I- we… what if we don’t make it back?” you sobbed.

“He knows. He already knows we love him.” Maria said, tears streaming down her face as well.

You dropped to your knees, feeling defeated by the situation, so you yelled out loud in frustration, hurting your lungs and ribs. This isn’t supposed to happen.

Maria felt the same way and came up to you and touched your shoulder, “We need to go. We are going to be late.”

You looked at her and took a deep breath then wiped your eyes and shoved everything down and stood back up. “We’re making it back, together, yeah?”

Maria put her forehead against yours and nodded, “Yeah, you and me. We got this.”

You nodded, “Ok, let’s go.” then you both took off running towards the aircraft waiting to take the both of you to the next three days of absolute hell.

Joel’s POV

Joel woke up to getting texts and calls from Tommy, at 5 am. He had at least another hour to sleep but when he turned over and looked at his phone he saw he had 4 missed calls and 9 messages from Tommy.

His heart dropped, his breathing hitched and he immediately thought about you.

He scrambled out of his bed, knocking things off his nightstand, and ran downstairs to his office, opening up to laptop.

He saw 8 notifications on his Skype.

“Fuck.” he opened up yours and his chat log and started reading.

Tears started to gather in his eyes, his heart pounding as he read, panicking by how you were talking. Where were you going? What danger are you getting thrown into? Thousands of thoughts swarmed his mind and then they all stopped when he read,

‘I love you cowboy, and I’ll do everything I can to get back to you to tell you that in person.’

He couldn’t help but smile for a moment, holding onto that feeling, that you love him, but he was brought right back to reality and fell to his knees and softly sobbed.

This can’t be happening. I can’t lose her. I love her and never got the chance to say it back. He thought to himself. He didn’t know what to do, he felt so helpless, everything was out of his control.

His phone buzzed again against his desk, a call from Tommy.

He grabbed it and leaned up against the wall behind his desk, the room dark, the house silent, Sarah still peacefully asleep.

He sighed and leaned his head against the wall behind him, “Hey…”

Tommy seemed just as distraught to Joel’s surprise. He knew Tommy and Maria liked each other as you told him in confidence but he didn’t know it was like this.

“What did Y/N say? Maria said they were going on a field assignment, some idiot general sent a distress signal and they are sending them in to get him, she said it would be a few days… Joel she was sayin’ things...” his voice cracked.

“I know.” Joel sniffled. “Y/N said similar things…” he chuckled sadly. “Things you only say if you think you’re about to die.” he pinched the bridge of his nose. “Tommy please tell me what the hell is going on, what did they get thrown into, what are their odds?” he said softly.

Tommy sighed, sniffing as well, “Depending on the area, they could be going into an active combat zone, or they could just be going on a wild goose chase, with the possibility of being an open target. I don’t know man, I just know for them to send only two medics means they want less attention drawn which to me means they could be going into active combat for which they’ll most likely be going in with a combat specialist to assist.”

Joel sighed, “Ok, so if they do go with someone trained in combat that’s better than nothing, right?”

Tommy bit his inner cheek, “I guess, I just… why them?”

“They are some of the best in their area and Reggie right now is partnerless. Y/N said he isn’t supposed to get someone ‘til next week, they can’t send him solo.”

Joel was right, they won’t send Reggie alone and they weren’t going to separate you and Maria. However whether you liked it or not, you two had the lowest mortality rate in the region and worked well as a team. It was a no-brainer to send you on this assignment.

“Will you keep me posted if you hear anything sooner and I’ll do the same?” Tommy asked.

“Of course. I’ll uh.. See you in a few hours at the office, yeah?” Joel scratched his head, he was now up for the day, and he wouldn’t be able to sleep with this news. And he didn’t sleep very well for the next 3 days.

Reader’s POV

As soon as you and Maria got into the aircraft and buckled in, it took off.

Maria and you looked down at the open door, watching you fly away from what you knew as safety.

You turned your head and noticed another soldier across from you, looking stoic, and composed.

The pilot came on the intercom, “We are headed to Delta 42, this is an active combat zone. Everything will be there, tanks, snipers, missile strikes, you are going to no man’s land!”

You took deep breaths, trying to stay calm, get into the zone, and focus.

“Private Coleman is Special Forces, para-rescue. He’s going to be your protection and guide. Your jobs are to not only get out with Captain Williams but get all 3 of you as well out alive.”

Coleman nodded at you both and gripped his rifle closer to himself, “Good to meet ya’ll. Let’s make it back home, yeah?”

You and Maria both nodded, cracking a smile, “I like your attitude.” you said over the comms. “We are on a first-name basis, I’m Y/N and this is my partner, Maria.” you tapped Maria with your elbow, and she nodded.

“I’m Jack.” he looked out the window. “We are going to touch down, we are all 3 going to get out and run to the southwest wall, from there we will gather our bearings and make a plan. We have at least a 5-mile radius to cover before we get to Captain’s coordinates.” he looked back at you two, “Any questions?”

“Yeah, how are you not shitting yourself right now?” Maria asked, internally freaking out.

Jack laughed, “I’ve been in and out of here 4 times ladies, I’ve already done that the first two times…”

A brief wave of relief washed over you. He’s been here 4 times. Someone that knows the area and threats, we’re gonna be ok, you told yourself over and over internally.

The pilot came on comms, “Alright, we are ascending, get ready!”

You all three unbuckled and grabbed your things, strapping your backpack on and putting your rifle over you, pulling out your necklace charm from under all your gear, putting it to your lips, and kissing it.

You grabbed a bar above your head to hold on and watched as the aircraft descended slowly towards the ground.

You took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

“I have heat signatures coming from your east, take cover as soon as your feet hit the ground!” the pilot said through the comms system before shouting “Now! Go! Go!”

You all three jumped out, the aircraft about 3 feet from the ground.

As soon as your feet hit, the aircraft took a sharp turn and started firing rounds to your east. You all three ran immediately to find cover.

You felt a bullet fly past your left arm. You fell to the ground to take cover then rolled onto your back and sat your head up to look through your scope, saw the target, and pulled the trigger, landing a blow the their shoulder.

You stood back up and ran towards Maria and Jack to catch up.

You all made it to the southwest wall. Explosions and gunfire happening all around you.

Jack shouted, “Ok, the sooner we get this sack of shit, the sooner we can get out of here! We are to move up south to these coordinates, that’s where his distress signal was sent from.” he showed his GPS.

“What happens if we get there and he’s dead?” you asked.

“Still need to get him home! We call for an airborne rescue and take the body…” he shouted back.

You nodded and ducked as something hit the wall above you knocking debris onto you.

“Alright, let’s get to work!” he smiled and started walking towards the destination.

–

For the past two days, you’ve been shot at, missiles and grenades exploding around you. You don’t know if your hearing will ever be the same. You helped those that were wounded around you and then would instruct them if they could make it out the southeast wall and travel north there was a safe haven camp 2 miles that way. Anyone however who was not an Allied force and injured was immediately killed by Jack. He had no empathy for the enemy, and after what you had seen, neither did you.

You were less than a mile from the Captain’s coordinates when you heard someone from behind you, as you turned to see, you were cut in the arm by a knife, “Fuck!” you saw a man with a hand knife make another swing at you, you stepped back and shot his knee cap to disarm him, he fell to the ground and then before you could do anything else Jack shot him in the chest.

You stood there in shock for a second, breathing sharp and fast.

That could have ended so much differently, I could have died. You thought. You gripped your rifle, trying to ground yourself, but then quickly turned to the side and vomited.

“You good?” Maria asked, touching your shoulder.

You nodded and wiped your mouth with your hand, “Yeah, just nerves and starving… not a good mix.”

Jack looked at you both then you, “You’re bleeding…”

You looked at your arm, “Shit.”

Maria looked at you and pulled out her kit, “I got it. You’ll need to clean it when we get home but here…” She sprayed some bacterial spray and then wrapped it with some gauze and tape. “That’ll hold.” she softly smiled at you and you smiled at her, “Thanks partner.” she nodded.

“We have until the morning to get to the coordinates. Let’s take a 2-hour break, get something in our systems, rest up, and then push through the night, yeah?”

You nodded and so did Maria.

You all found a small abandoned house and took turns taking 30-minute naps, grabbed something to eat from your packs, and got something to drink.

You took off your helmet, put it in your lap, and leaned your head against the wall behind you. Almost there, just a little bit longer.

You pulled out the picture of Joel and Sarah and smiled softly. The house you were in shook as a nearby explosion happened, you ducked your head down and instinctually grabbed your necklace.

Once the shaking stopped you looked back at the picture and gently brushed your finger against it, thinking of what life will be like with them once you’re out of here. Holding onto that, keeping that in the back of your head for the next 24 hours.

Jack stood up and pulled a map out of his pack, “Ok, we are right here.” he pointed to an area on the map, “Williams is here.” he pointed to another location a little further south. You and Maria looked at the map.

“What if we went down this road? It's covered by overhead coverings… looks like it may have been a marketplace before…” you pointed to a road to the east of your location which would lead directly to the coordinates, “It would give us cover to move faster and avoid getting hit potentially from above?”

Jack looked at your suggestion, “Maria, any suggestions?” he looked her way.

She shook her head, “If she suggests we go that way, I trust her suggestion.”

Jack looked at you, and took a breath, thinking, “My only concern is if it was a marketplace and has that overhead coverage, it might be a camp base for the enemy.”

You thought for a second, “What if we threw a smoke bomb in? If anyone would be in there, it would create movement, and if it’s invaded, we just walk away and go just up here?” pointing to the main road. “Main road will take longer but it’ll be plan B. The hope would be this road works…”

Jack nodded, “That’ll work. How many smoke bombs do we have?”

“We each have two, that’s 6 total. We have maybe a thousand yards to location… if we throw one every 150 yards we can scope out targets and create a cover for us.” Maria said.

Jack looked at you and Maria, “That’ll work.” he nodded, “Ok, pack up, we can use the lack of light tonight for further coverage.”

You both nodded and gathered your things. You put your helmet back on and put the photo back in your vest pocket after kissing it gently.

Jack looked at you then Maria, “If anything happens to me, you need to grab my radio, and once you get to Willams, carry him to a rooftop nearby and turn to channel 5. Call for Alpha 402, tell them where you are, and they will send a rescue aircraft within minutes.”

You both nodded.

He nodded back and then you all started heading to the road you hoped to take. Praying this would be a simple task now that you’ve made it this far, hoping this would be over soon.

—

You made it down the road with 4 smoke bombs and no movement, you had around 200 yards to go. You kept telling yourself that was easy, that’s 2 football fields.

Jack threw the 5th smoke bomb and waited, scoping out and watching the terrain in front of you. No movement, no sound, it was quiet.

Too quiet.

“We need to run…” Jack said all of a sudden.

“What?” Maria said, not grasping what he said.

“There’s no sound, no birds, nothing, something is going to happen. We need to run,” he said quietly.

All of sudden you heard sirens, sirens signaling only one thing.

“Fuck. Run!” Jack said running, you grabbed Maria’s hand and pulled her with you.

You ran for your life. The sirens got louder the more you ran.

Jack yelled “Over here!” he cut to the left and like a miracle you saw someone peeking out for the rubble, it was the Captain.

You and Maria immediately ran over to him and knelt, you quickly checked his pulse, it was weak but there.

You looked and saw he had an abdominal injury as well as a broken leg.

“Maria, splint the leg fast, I’ll pack the abdominal wound.” you looked up around you for the tallest building.

“Jack, call for air support immediately after we finish addressing these injuries to that building…” you nodded towards a tall building.

He nodded and kept a lookout, “We need to get him moved, hurry!”

You packed the wound as best you could and gave him a shot of morphine quickly. Maria splinted the leg and also sprayed it with that same antibacterial spray.

“Ok done.” you said, looking at Maria.

“Me too, done.” she said.

Jack pulled out his radio and called for air support, expressing that you were in the middle of a possible missile drop and that air support was needed immediately.

You stood up and grabbed Williams, picking him up like you did with Terrance. “Let's go, we have stairs to fucking climb, and I wanna get the fuck home…” you said straining starting to walk towards the building. As you entered the building you heard gunshots from behind you, you turned to find Maria on the ground, bleeding.

“Maria!” you shouted.

Jack shot back towards where the shots were coming from and then took cover in the building you were in, “Let’s go! She’s gone.”

You shook your head, you could tell she was still alive, “No, she needs help! Jack, she needs help!”

“Listen I’m not here to get her to safety, I’m here to get him. We need to move.” he pushed you towards the stairs.

You looked at him in disbelief, anger brewing, “Then you get him out. I’m not leaving without her.” you set the Captain down, grabbed the radio he had on his belt, and started walking back out.

“You’ll never make it! Don’t be stupid!” Jack shouted as he lifted the Captain over his shoulder.

“She’s my sister, I’m not leaving her…” you said as you ran back out to her.

Maria was 20 feet from the building. A few shots went past you, you shot back a few times and then threw the last one of your smoke bombs to create some cover.

You got to her and dragged her to some cover nearby. She was shot in the shoulder and stomach.

“You need to go, leave me.” she said, breath ragged and uneven.

“Maria shut up. I’m not leaving you.” you said, putting pressure on her stomach.

You looked up at the sky and didn’t see a plane coming in yet, you had time.

You hurried and gave her a shot of morphine and then packed her abdomen, “I’m going to carry you. We’re going to make it. I need you to take my pistol and shoot anyone you see behind us until we get into that building, got it?”

Maria shook her head, tears streaming, “Y/N, please, you need to leave me, I’m dead weight.”

“Maria, I made a promise to your parents I would take care of you, and you and I made a deal on that fucking plane we were both making it back, now shut up and say you’ll cover my back!” you shouted at her, focusing on packing her wound.

She looked at you, tears streaming, she was scared.

“I’m not leaving without you.” you looked at her, and shook your head, “You would do the same for me.”

She nodded, and chuckled, “You’re so annoyingly stubborn.”

You chuckled and smiled at her, “Yes I am, which is why we will make it out of here.”

You finished packing her wound and then zipped her vest back up to cover it, keeping it in place, “Ok, ready?”

She nodded and you handed her your pistol. You then grabbed a grenade you had and threw it to make some cover. You grabbed Maria’s arm swung her around your shoulders and started running to the building.

She fired a couple of shots and from what you could tell hit something or someone.

You got inside and looked up, you had at least 12 flights to climb, “You owe me.” you said with a chuckle before you started climbing the stairs, adrenaline driving you. More than halfway up you heard the sound of a plane nearby.

“Fuck we gotta move. Hold onto me!” you shouted.

She wrapped around you as best she could and gripped your vest.

Your legs were burning, your heart pounding so hard you felt like it was going to burst, but you knew you needed to keep pushing.

You made it to the top floor and Jack was loading the Captain in.

“Wait!” you called slamming the door open.

Jack looked back and saw you, yelled at the pilot to hold on, and leaned out of the cockpit to help you load Maria in.

You stepped and grabbed the handle to load yourself in when you felt something hit the side of your leg, you looked down and saw blood, “Fuck.” you looked behind you and before you could react or shoot, Jack fired a round, “Get in!” you pulled yourself in and sat on the floor.

“Ok, Robbie let’s get the fuck out of here!” Jack shouted and you felt the plane pull up and turn towards safety.

You immediately assessed your leg, starting to spray bacterial spray and then wrapping it with gauze and a wrap, hard-wired when seeing blood to address it.

You looked over at Maria after and she was already looking at you. You started laughing, “We did it.”

You chuckled which turned into a laugh, “Fuck, yeah we did!”

Jack joined in, and you looked over at him, sarcastically saying “Fuck you, saying I wouldn’t make it.��

He chuckled, “Shouldn’t have underestimated your stubbornness…”

Maria laughed louder, “No, no you shouldn’t have!”

You all three were in a fit of giggles when the pilot came through the intercom, “We need to divert to Delta 27, Delta 30 is under attack.” you all stopped laughing and you looked at Maria.

Z and Reggie.

You pulled yourself up and limped towards the cock pit, “What do you mean under attack?”

“I just got a message that the enemy opened fire on it, with several casualties, it’s not safe to land.”

Your heart immediately dropped, “But… I got people there… we have family, please, just… just drop me down, you don’t have to land, I can do a drop-off. Take them to 27… Please.”

Jack came up behind you, “Drop us down, they’ll need reinforcements.”

The pilot looked at you both and nodded, “Fine but just so you know you’re going back into an active combat area.” He started to turn the craft back towards your camp.

“No disrespect sir but we were just in no man’s land, this will be nothing...” you said looking at Jack, he nodded, agreeing.

You went back and knelt by Maria, taking her hand, “I need you to get in contact with Tommy and Joel. I need you to tell Joel I will be ok and I will call him as soon as I can but I needed to get Z and Reggie. Tell him…” you paused, thinking of what to tell him, “Tell him I meant my last message with everything in me and I’ll keep my promise, it’s just taking me longer, but I’ll make it back.”

She nodded and looked at you, “Promise me you’ll call me when you’re somewhere safe.”

You nodded and gripped her hand. “I promise. You get some help and stay alive until I get to you, deal?” she nodded and chuckled.

You stood and looked at Jack, “We are looking for a kid named Z and the medic here, his name is Reggie. We get them to safety first then we reinforce.”

He nodded, “Got it.”

You let out a shaky breath and looked down at the camp, explosions and smoke everywhere.

“This as close as I can get!” the pilot said. He hovered over a building, you let out the rope ladder and slid down, Jack following behind you.

“Alright, follow me, I think I know where to find Z.” you said as you headed down the stairs.

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