sebsbarnes

[sebsbarnes]

burns || dr. jack abbot

jack abbot x reader

summary: maybe his late wife's shadow against the old cabinets could be replaced with yours. a thought he would never have fathomed to cloud his mind, but he stayed up until dawn thinking of you finding home in these wooden walls.

warnings: mentions of burns on skin, grammar errors, cliches, no indication of age or gender

word count: 1.8k+

other jack reading

a/n: uhm i rewrote this 5 times and i'm settling with this i fear. enjoy!

it was muscle memory. three rights and two lefts in total. a path walked so few times, but what was awaiting at the end caused the route to be ingrained in the far corners of your mind.

maybe it was a dumb idea, a really fucking dumb idea but that little voice urging you to turn around wasn’t loud enough. your legs didn't betray you as you continued forward, passing the brick apartment buildings and the houses with their windows drawn. night was already set in with the stars and moon offering light to guide you.

it was two steps, an old door mat, and a white door separating you now as the path intended. a clutched hand cradled into your chest with the other resting on the door, working up the courage to bring your knuckles to the old wood. a shaky breath wisped between your lips as three knocks rang out.

a warm, dim light shone from behind the sheer white curtains, and a small shuffle of feet could be heard before the mechanics of the locks clicked in place and the door inched open.

dr. abbot.

the salt and pepper curls were disheveled and out of place. the collar of his navy blue t-shirt stretched and hung loosely off his chest. grey cotton sleep shorts grazed his thighs. exhaustion was etched into his face. eyes slightly bloodshot. it felt wrong to lay eyes on him in this state.

guilt came over you, “i’m sorry. i should’ve realized you were asleep.”

a small smile danced across his lips, “you know i don’t sleep,” he joked.

it was a joke, but it made you feel worse. guilty that you ran to your coworker for help. for god's sake, abbot was an attending and you worked out in chairs at the check-in desk.

“i need your help. you can say no, okay?”

the grittiness of his voice subsided, “you know i’ll always help you.”

the cradled hand outstretched before you. the skin of your forearm tight and burning, begging for help. burning oil had kissed your skin from the late-night cooking.

“oh shit,” he muttered body now leaning forward, “did you rinse it under the water?” abbot's hands held your forearm with his fingers close to the burn. a small tug signaled you to enter after you offered a small nod to his question.

you've only ventured into his moderately furnished home a few times. the home neutral in color, wooden furniture, second-hand rugs in the hallways and living room, a calendar unturned for three months. abbot was not big on socializing, often taking a backseat to planned hospital gatherings. it was encouragement from dana and robby to have abbot host the occasional gathering at his home. they would never admit it but the friendly peer pressure was a way to have people in the home, a distraction from the silence abbot experiences since the passing of his late wife, no matter how many years ago it has been. her specter still present in the walls and shadows.

abbot situated you at the kitchen counter perched upon the tall chair. a clean towel was placed on the counter, allowing your arm to rest. he maneuvered back and forth between drawers and cabinets, his gait slightly unstable causing you to glance down. you felt even worse, pinching the bridge of your nose, realizing that abbot had to quickly put his prosthetic on to answer your knocks.

he placed his supplies down, “looks second degree. do you feel clammy? cold?”

“no, no…,” you shook your head.

“alright let me check your pulse first. the burn doesn’t seem deep enough, but burn shock is real.” abbot’s hand gently grabbed your wrist, fingers pressing against the radius. he hummed that your pulse seemed a bit high which he attributed to adrenaline. logical reasoning, but you knew the thumping of your heart against his fingers was because of him.

it was reminiscent of the first time abbot had grazed your skin. it was accidental, but god did the slight graze of his hand over yours, reaching for paperwork, leave you spinning for days. your skin burned for hours. you had been rummaging through files at the check-in desk and abbot was in need of an AMA form when his hand brushed the top of yours. he was apologetic and carried on like the interaction never happened. you, however, played the moment for days. his fingers had a clammy sensation from his latex gloves, though not ideal, it didn’t bother you a bit.

"i'm really sorry for coming here dr. abbot, i panicked and you were closer than the hospital," you said as he started to apply a lubricant to the burn.

"dr. abbot?" he asked incredulously with a brow high on his forehead, "it's abbot or jack...you know that. dr. abbot makes it sound like we aren't friends."

"it's a habit," the words tumbled from your lips breathlessly. you couldn't bring yourself to look at him, not when he was this close. abbot's forearms flexed as he tended to the burn, in turn causing you to gnaw on the inside of your mouth. eyes now fixated on his working hands. the small bones poking out from the skin, the deep blue veins prominent, and freckles scattered across the back of his hand. twelve you counted--no fourteen. there were two small brown freckles on the side of his index finger. abbot’s clothes smelled of laundry detergent and you could swear saffron and tobacco were the smell of his aftershave. it was intoxicating yet somehow nauseating. the twisting of your insides demanding you to quit it. he is a coworker, an attending.

his voice broke your trance, "i'm not losing you, am i? you look sick,” words light and laced with humor and concern.

"all good,” you squeaked with a huff of air.

abbot didn't protest. his hands idled to admire his work before cleaning up the small pile of supplies and garbage on the marble counter. you slipped off the chair, observing the light bandages to shield your raw skin from the outside world. before picking your head up, your body began to move forward, unknowing of the barrier before you.

"oh! im sor-sorry, abbot," you chuckled nervously as you bumped into him, not realizing he had entered your personal bubble. he stepped sideways to maneuver past you but it seemed your bodies were tethered with an invisible string as you moved in tandem with him. the two of you looked as if you were amateur dancers in a beginner class.

abbot's gaze was steadfast, silent but unyielding causing you to pause. though you both were frozen in place, the air was hot. you rolled your lips into your mouth in a desperate attempt to wipe the shy smile off your face. abbot's head was cocked with eyes wandering the planes of your face. the pink hue dusting your cheeks and neck and avoidance in eye contact had abbot smirking.

he knew you liked him long before he could come to terms with his own emotions. it was a wednesday at the ED and chairs were shockingly slow, the hard plastic rows vacant for hours. to stretch your legs you always did a loop in the back saying hello to the nurses and doctors. you were tucked into a corner speaking with kiara about an infamous patient before she inquired about your personal life. maybe it was the social worker in her that compelled her to check in with other staff, but you didn't mind. you'd confined in her numerous times about abbot, coining him 'cowboy' in some high school code name fashion. unbeknownst to you, abbot was concealed behind the closed door you had a hip leaning against, his ears perked listening to you drone on about a 'cowboy' and your inability to keep your composure around him.

with curiosity getting the better of abbot, he knew the one person he could ask for intel, princess.

"hey princess, who's uh- who's 'cowboy'?

her eyes peered up from the computer screen with a devilish smile appearing, "that would be you, cowboy."

abbot's realization came one time he held a small gathering at his house. the dinner he prepared now long gone but the smell of the food clung to the air. the boisterous chatter and laughter left as the last remaining staff scattered into the night. you opted to stay and clean, thanking abbot profusely for the amazing dinner and allowing a good portion of the ED team to occupy his home. abbot urged you to stop cleaning, insisting that you were the guest, but after the fourth pointed look from you, he gave up the pleas. it was strange to him how in sync your bodies moved between the counter, to the sink, to the dishwasher. not once bumping into each other. it was normal. it felt right. almost instinctive. part of him wanted to kick himself at the thought he could get used to this, you beside him, bringing life to the empty home. that maybe his late wife's shadow against the old cabinets could be replaced with yours. a thought he would never have fathomed to cloud his mind, but he stayed up until dawn thinking of you finding home in these wooden walls.

"i should...get going," you trailed, nerves unending.

he tsked, "it's pretty dark out there. you could stay."

"i've been a burden enough."

abbot watched as your eyes skated across his chest suddenly feeling his cocky nature dwindling into a shyer shell of himself.

“how could you ever be a burden to me?” he whispered, the question sincere.

you shrugged, shoulders inches higher, “it's not impossible."

abbot bobbed his head, taking a moment, "no, it really is impossible."

"i picked up a shift in the morning, i should sleep at home tonight," you replied, silently cursing in your head that past you wanted to make extra money. he smiled softly in understanding and walked you to the front door.

you needed to seize the opportunity, though. both of you had finally made indications of your hidden feelings and to stop the momentum now would be ludicrous. abbot would be too much of a gentleman to further initiate the conversation so you halted mid-step and swiveled back to abbot. his hazel eyes boring into yours with faces so close he could feel the small puffs of air from your nose.

"i hear it's good to follow up with a doctor three days after a burn." your fingers fiddling with the collar of his shirt.

"oh, is that so?" abbot teased, but his face flushed instantaneously.

"know of a good doctor? maybe one with a private practice? i'm not big on hospitals, y'know, spend my whole day in one," you quipped.

abbot sucked on his teeth, every instinct wanted to rip you back into his home. "yeah i know a guy," he started voice a bit gravelly, "works out of his home sometimes for special circumstances. heard he's pretty good at patching up a burn at his kitchen counter."

your eyes now back to his, a hand softly cupped his cheek, "looks like i'm his newest patient."

[sebsbarnes]

four months || andrew ‘pope’ cody

andrew 'pope' cody x reader

summary: three words. four syllables. a simple question that somehow managed to feel like a bullet raged in the chambers of your heart shredding the organ to dust. unsalvageable.

warnings: language, illusions to suicidal ideations (brief), angst, tiniest mention of something in early s2, improper grammar, cliches, no mention of reader age or gender

word count: 900+

a/n: quick lil read! i wasn’t going to write for pope until i finish the show but sorry i got so much in my mind for him. just started s3<3

“are you happy?”

it was easier to stomach the pain of the knife that had lodged itself into your thigh on a shitty job that went wrong.

are you happy?

three words. four syllables. a simple question that somehow managed to feel like a bullet raged in the chambers of your heart shredding the organ to dust. unsalvageable.

a bitter laugh spilled from your lips, “happy? really, pope, happy?”

his stance was solid, back straight, head tipped the slightest bit towards the ground. a learned behavior from 3 years inside. pope’s lip curved down, a sign discomfort was setting in.

“couldn’t fuckin’ tell you the last time i was happy, pope.”

a small tsk sounded, “you know i wanted the best for you,” voice gravelly.

“the best for me? really because you didn’t fucking run that by me when you iced me out and told your family to pretend i’m not alive,” anger radiating off your body, your pointer finger jabbing into your chest with each word, “i didn’t realize you were all-fucking-knowing, pope. didn’t know you could determine how i would feel about something that you don’t warn me about.”

pope’s hand grabbed your wrist halting the repeated action, “it’s not safe for you.”

he was closer to you now with his body mirroring the slightest movement of yours. pope’s eyes locked on yours as if he will lose sight of you if he breaks away.

“i’m not safe for you,” he whispered.

the lump in your throat went down roughly, “i’ve been doing this shit just as long as you. i’ve known you pope, andrew, for years. i have loved you-i love you for years now. but pushing me away? what the fuck was that.”

you were forcing the tears back forbidding them from capsizing over your bottom eyelashes. now not only was the bullet still rattling in your heart, but it felt as though an invisible pump was deflating your lungs. depriving you of oxygen, skin growing cold, vision a haze.

“four months. up and vanished. not a word,” you choked all attempts to hide your emotions failing. you shoved at his chest causing him to stagger back, “i live two blocks away and i couldn’t find you. you’re not a hard man to find so i know you were putting in effort to avoid me.”

he stabilized himself, boots grounded into the floor, the squeaky boards under his feet now silencing. there was regret etched into his face evident by his eyebrows pulled together, a deep ridge forming between. pope chewed on his bottom lip as embarrassment set in. he knew it was fucked up to assume vanishing would be the best for you. safe for you. safe from his brothers, his mom, his past, him. it was a culmination of jobs gone south and self-doubting tendencies that blindsided him from good decision-making. you were right, of course you were, you always were. you and pope lived the same but separate lives for a long time before finding each other. been through the same fucked up shit.

maybe it was a horrible idea to love someone just as fucked up as you, but god did pope need you. he craved you in the simplest forms. the feeling of you walking next to him, your hand ghosting his shoulder as you passed him at your apartment sink, the warmth of your body tangled in the bedsheets with him.

it was idiotic of him to think either of you would be better off without the other. pope spent the last four months awake with almost no sleep. his demons creeping up, greeting him in the dark of night nagging him with reminders of the ghosts of his past. pope’s legs would swing from the ledge of the wall, eyes cast to the ocean with his right hand toying with his silver gun. there were many moments in the last few weeks where his skull and the barrel of the weapon acted as a magnetic force, the connection unwavering.

unbeknownst to him, you were spiraling at home desperate to find him anywhere. pope was two streets away yet it was as if he never existed on this earth. the tires of your car would screech into smurf’s driveway but the no trespassing sign greeted you, its commands unyielding. with a fist, you would barge into deran’s bar seeking answers but he would warn you to leave with his glock hesitating to point at you.

pope’s shoulders shook. a silent sob consuming his body. his life was shit but these last four months felt like hell had opened up and was punishing him for all his sins, torturing him in ways that mankind has yet to discover.

his hands reached forward softly grabbing your cheeks. your head lulled in his hands a sensation you have longed for. pope’s thumbs caught the droplets running from your eyes. a sight that caused him more anguish. tears that he caused.

“i am so sorry. please—please forgive me,” pope’s voice quiet and unsteady. his face was flushed and eyes now bloodshot.

you grabbed onto his hands removing them for your face, fingers slowly intertwining, “please never do that to me again.”

pope’s head rapidly nodded, tears decorating his face. c’mon you whispered softly before the weight of his body crashed into yours. relief flooded through your bodies as you molded together once again. it was love, no matter how unconventional.

[sebsbarnes]

go-bag || jack abbot

jack abbot x reader

summary: the secrecy of your relationship is left hidden behind closed doors and the corners of the emergency department, until your missing necklace appeared in jack's go-bag

warnings: none, improper grammar i'm sure, reader not designated to specific shift or stated if nurse or doctor, age and gender not implied

word count: 2k

other jack reading

a/n: luv this man.

"hey, have you seen a silver necklace? small flower on it?" you recited the questions like a mantra, every person that walked past you you pestered them, hell even the patients and medics in the bay.

robby called out to you, "do you even take it off for work? there's no need to, you can wear necklaces."

a groan resounded from the bottom of your throat, "it's on every day. i could count on one hand how many times i've taken it off in the last year."

robby fell in line with you as the both of you made a beeline to the echo of a flat line. his eyes peered at you from above his glasses, "seems like you may need to start counting on that second hand," he grinned.

the hours of the shift lulled on with distractions from angry patients in the waiting room, new med students bouncing about, myrna’s continued attempts to hit on anyone who breathed, and a bidding war over a stolen ambulance. there truly is no normalcy in the ED but for certain a mass casualty incident was far from normal.

it shouldn’t have surprised that the squeak of the sliding doors allowed for the entrance of abbot. his mouth morphed into a straight line, eyes quickly catching yours before offering robby a hug. robby and abbot ordered out commands completely transforming the structure and practice of the ED before the arrivals. every single doctor and nurse tended and moved to the injured allowing for the best possible care even with the tight restrictions in place.

“abbot!” robby yelled out, eyes and hands focused on his patient.

“what’s up?” his rough voice called back, moving to the next gurney.

“you got LMAs in your bag?”

with a confirmation, robby beckoned mckay to grab abbot’s go-bag. quickly, the blood-covered gloves came flying off and his hands fumbled around the open pocket. robby knew he grabbed the LMA but what he wasn’t expecting was the added bonus wrapped around the protective packet.

a silver chain with a flower gleaming at robby.

“is…is that…?”

mckay tried stifling a laugh as she shot a look towards an oblivious abbot. robby toyed with the silver chain for a brief moment before the chaos around him pulled him back to reality.

robby slid the necklace back into the backpack, “it has to be,” he replied with a smirk.

the mess of the MCI made it difficult for robby or mckay to question you or abbot about the necklace. abbot was laser-focused ordering out commands while you were cloaked in crimson darting around.

robby knew there was always something between you and abbot. abbot was devoted to his work despite his numerous roof visits, but what first raised suspicions was when he would come into a shift way too early a few weeks after you started. abbot was punctual by half an hour, maybe an hour, but suddenly that morphed into a full-length feature film early.

abbot would arrive and glance at your charts, silently admiring your thought process. though medical terminology can sometimes feel like its own language your documentation was effortlessly easy to follow and he often tried to mimic your work. abbots been in the field long enough but even he can learn something new. he was enamored by your drive and care for patients, you never wavered in your professionalism no matter how hard a patient may be. the kindness you exuded to your fellow co-workers had him taking note to have a bit more grace for others.

you could tell abbot had a heightened interest in you. his rough and tough exterior was a bit wobbly around you. you would find abbot following you throughout the last two hours of your shift, an invisible tether with a short leash and if you strayed too far he would come jerking towards you. abbot would situate himself beside you in the trauma rooms, not because he didn’t think you could do it, but because he knows you can do it and he wants a front-row seat to bear witness. his hand would brush against yours while you two did the tango passing equipment around. abbot thanked god he didn’t have a heart monitor on when you peered at him, eyes crinkled and smile hiding behind a mask.

it was a chilly evening and a couple stories in the air when abbot officially broke the ice. you had wandered up to the roof to watch the moon exchange places with the sun as abbot made his way to his shift, from the sidewalk outside he could see your figure above. it didn't take long for him to trudge up the stairs and onto the concrete roof. unbeknownst to abbot, he was greeted by your figure leaning against the metal bars, backside to him. god—he felt like he was back in high school blushing over his crush.

"how was your day?" he asked now by your side.

"easy going actually," you nodded, "how are you, how’ve you been sleeping?"

"could always be better, but y’know...thrilled to be here," abbot replied now looking towards you.

a small laugh left your nose, "we all know you love it here. it can be hell but we all seem to thrive."

abbot to this day doesn't know what possessed him to utter these next words. perhaps the moment just felt, right. the slight chill in the air signaling pittsburgh's looming winter, the laughter of the couples wandering the streets, or maybe it was the way the moonlight shone on your face. the white glow highlighting and contouring the plane and the way the light bounced off your eyes. god, what color even were they now? abbot swears he has never seen a shade so beautiful.

"nowhere is hell if you are around."

so here you are now, naive to the fact robby and mckay have discovered your little secret. that missing necklace of yours tangled in abbot's supplies. the silver chain abandoned and forgotten about after a weekend lake trip in which abbot insisted his go-bag needed to come "just in case". his fingers had danced around your neck and unlatched the tiny clasp, tucking the jewelry away in his bag before the two of you waded in the water.

mckay found herself assisting abbot with one of the victims and although it was not the time and place to ask questions, she was itching to.

"hey abbot, where do you bring this?" mckay inquired, head nodding towards the black bag.

abbot peered up from his protective glasses, "uh- usually don't need it. maybe take it camping sometimes, it's usually in my car. why?" he panned out, drilling a small hole into the patient's upper arm.

mckay grabbed a bag of blood, "just curious."

on the other side of the room, robby found himself gravitating towards you. maybe the venture was a way to keep himself from going mad over the horror surrounding him, a slight amusing distraction that he can later pester abbot about. robby waited until you and langdon finished assisting a patient until they were wheeled off into the green zone.

"hey," robby trailed suddenly feeling awkward, "what was that necklace you lost again? i uh- saw a necklace in the staff lounge."

you raised a brow at the question and robby's hands wringing together, "it's silver with a small flower."

"wrong necklace then."

robby drifted back to the red zone with a small smirk, one of his hands came up to rub the disbelief off his face. without missing a step he continued past mckay whispering 'bingo' on his way into a trauma room.

it was another hour before the chaos simmered, the blood-stained floors now vanished, the cries of those suffering gone but still reverberating in your ears. your palm found the hospital wall, head bowed to finally catch the breath you’ve been holding for the last three hours. a hand ghosted your shoulder.

“you okay?” abbot’s head tilted to meet your face, eyes locked.

it was rhetorical but he still meant it. if you strung together any vowels or consonants that suggested you were far from okay abbot would’ve swooped you into his arms and carried you to his house, ignoring the aching pain of his prosthetic.

a nod was all that was needed, silent confirmation that you were still standing. abbot’s eyes drifted towards the door, clear of anyone roaming, “i’m with you. always”, he whispered into your hair.

bags were gathered and goodbyes were muttered as everyone filed out for the night to their respective plans. the late-night beer in the park wasn’t a permanent solution to ease the troubles from the shift but it offered a temporary distraction. it was a small group tonight understandably so with some sitting and others rocking on their feet. keeping up with the secret you and abbot were situated on opposite benches. you nursed the same can of beer listening to the others go back and forth with a watchful eye from abbot.

this would turn into a routine for nights spent at the park. everyone would file out after they raised their blood alcohol level, just enough to make them feel warm. robby usually took a beer to go and donahue would load up the cooler as princess gushed about her new boo. unknowingly leaving the two love birds alone to whisper sweet nothings.

everyone began to scatter leaving you, robby, and abbot to rehash a story about gloria from a few weeks ago. robby stretched his legs which was a typical signal that he was heading out. the large backpack hung from his shoulder as he halted his steps, a click from his lips before he spoke,

"oh," robby started with a scratch of his head, "check abbot's bag for your necklace."

with bludging eyes, you sputtered out incoherent words in pure shock. robby's laughter echoed into the night paired with a quick 'zip!' from beside you. abbot was grateful the dark night masked his burning face.

"i didn't know i left it in there, fuck. jack--i am so sorry."

he gestured for you to finally join him on the bench beside him now alone and secret exposed in the empty park. the chain fell back into its rightful place with the delicate touch of abbot's fingers.

abbot let out a soft chuckle, eyes narrowing in happiness, "there is nothing to be sorry for.”

you fiddled with the chain as anxiety set in. nervous about the potential implications of the ED discovering the secret relationship. not only that, but a small part of you liked the secrecy. you weren’t embarrassed to be with abbot, you loved him even if those three words hadn’t been spoken yet. there was a daring aspect as the two of you navigated the ED pretending to be nothing more than professional acquaintances while simultaneously sneaking into a hidden corner to plant a kiss on the other's cheek or abbot slipping out an inside joke that would fall flat to others but caused you to hide a coy smile. after the shift, you would part ways but it wasn’t long until the familiar knocks echoed from your wooden front door, abbot’s face smiling at you and his curly hair disheveled. he would stumble forward, lips desperate to find yours after a long day, and cusp the side of your neck, his other hand pressed flat against your spine, and your feet edged backward to find a wall for support. abbot would whisper against the base of your throat how he couldn't wait to feel you in his hands and you would push against his firm chest, now guiding him backward till you reached the couch. laughter would bubble up your throat as he hastily ripped off your work clothes.

a hum left your throat, “how many people went into your bag and- and saw?”

abbot’s head leaned back against his neck, a smile itched into his lips and his gravelly voice stated, “damn near everyone."

[sebsbarnes]

one's we have lost

dr. frank langdon x f doctor!reader

summary: for now, we can sit here. we can cry, we can shout, we can be silent. i am here until you tell me to go.

warnings: mentions of patient death (child), aggression towards medical staff, self-doubt, angst, grammar errors, cliches, cursing

word count: 1k+

a/n: no established relationship but its there! yeaah this show i cant even begin to explain my love. a shorty bc im in the middle of writing a longer story for langdon

your hearing was minimized to a buzzing noise, you couldn’t compute the commotion of the ER around you but in the far corner of your mind, the echos of the parents cry sounded. it was but a few steps from the door frame of the quiet room where the news just broke that a roaring sound ripped you from the static.

“you fucking did this! she is gone because of you. you’re a fucking doctor, you’re meant to save lives and now i’ll never hear my baby call out to me or-or celebrate holidays or fuck, her sixth birthday,” the grieving father screamed, his figure looming over you, his hand gripped tightly to your shoulder, “you should be ashamed to call yourself a doctor.”

there was nothing you could say to amend the situation, but truthfully, you said nothing because you believed him. you couldn’t save the little girl. the ongoing doubts about your skill set were now reaffirmed by the mourning father. it was moments before you realized security had pulled him away from your face, his finger pointed so close to you it ghosted your nose.

voices sounded from all around you but you couldn’t comprehend what syllables your coworkers were stringing together to comfort you. with your body numb from the shift and imposter syndrome setting in, you aimlessly pushed past everyone without a word and wandered until you reached a stairwell multiple flights up from the emergency department.

you slammed the side of your fists into the wall as the numbness faded and the anger, sadness, and pain took place. the little girl's face played in your mind, the repeated visits she had to the emergency room due to a chronic condition. each time she came that tiny voice of hers pleaded to see you. she trusted you each time yet in the end you failed her.

back in the emergency department langdon had exited one of the trauma rooms as the patient was rushed up to surgery. he trudged over to the nurses station searching for his hours-old red bull in hopes of a pick me up. immediately langdon could tell there was a shift in energy in the department. some nurses were whispering, others quietly documenting notes, robby was in a hushed but serious conversation with the security guards.

"hey langdon," dana sighed offering a thin-lipped smile.

"what's going on out here? did i miss something, everyone seems a bit...uh, off," he questioned.

dana's mouth morphed into a frown, "the little girl passed, the smith family that is always here. the dad became angry and started attac-"

"where is she?" langdon cut dana off immediately knowing you were the one who was with the girl.

dana could only offer a shoulder shrug, "she walked off after security took the father away."

"shit," he muttered as he dropped the redbull on the desk and stalked off towards a familiar spot.

footsteps echoed their way towards you and in a measly attempt to hide your face you placed your forehead to your knees, "look gloria, i don't want to fill out any statements or paperwork."

"i didn't know i gave off a managerial presence but i'll consider that for the future."

you peeked your eyes open to see two shoes in front of your own feet. letting out a deep breath you picked your head up and looked at langdon's figure standing above you.

"respectfully, you should never consider it, i don't think you're cut out for a position like that," you attempted to joke back, blinking away threatening tears and clearing your scratchy throat.

langdon shared the wall with you as he slid down to the floor, his shoulder bumping into yours and his legs outstretched beside your own. you didn't need to look at langdon to know his eyes were boring holes into you. for the moment, it was nice to not be alone. hearing his light breathing and the sound of his scrubs rubbing together distracted you from the thoughts clouding your mind. the small voices of the patients you've lost telling you to walk out of the hospital and never return. that you're wasting your time and doing more harm than good.

"look, i-" langdon hesitated, "i am so sorry."

your head dropped back against the wall, eyes looking to the ceiling, "it's all my fault, he is right. why the fuck am i a doctor? she was five langdon, five. i couldn't save her and she is gone because of me, because of my shortcomings, because my failure of knowledge," you ranted with a wobbly voice.

langdon winced at your words. he has found himself repeating those same sentences to himself in the mirror when he's had a horrible shift. a sentiment that most doctors langdon knows have battled with. the weight of every right and wrong choice lingering with you until the end of time.

langdon whispered your name to grab your attention. he softly grabbed your hands, careful not to startle you in this vulnerable state, "every patient we cannot fix, every moment we cannot fix will sit with us, forever. it will sit with you forever, i know it and i know you well enough. this job can be brutal and unfair but it can also be so fulfilling."

"i know," you whispered finally looking to him. langdon's face etched with concern. the pad of his thumb dusting off a rolling tear.

he continued, "i have never met someone so dedicated to their job. not only do you fight for your patients but you also fight for your coworkers...for me. you are a rarity. you are a doctor because your heart is in the right place and you strive to make a difference. losing patients is going to be a given no matter how good we are, it's the nature of the job. but, you cannot give up."

a weak and shaky smile graced your face. you looked to the man beside you appreciative of his words that were not laced with humor but with shared understanding and respect. delicately you cupped his cheek, "thank you, langdon."

"i will be here for you, always. an-and, i need you...i cannot walk through these doors every shift knowing you won't be here. we have each other, okay?"

you blinked away the fast-approaching tears and nodded softly to him. langdon wrapped an arm around your shoulder allowing you to nestle into his side.

"for now, we can sit here. we can cry, we can shout, we can be silent. i am here until you tell me to go."

[sebsbarnes]

I love your story about Minho! (Unspoken). Is there coming a third part?🙃 I hope they end up together🙏

thank u so much! yes a part three will be coming, i've just had horrible writers block! i guess we shall see if they end up together ;)

[sebsbarnes]

PLEASE TELL ME UNSPOKEN GETS A PART 3????? im obsessed

omg thank you!! i am trying to do the story justice and think of a good idea for part 3. i never write multiple parts to a story so i don't want it to be bad!

[sebsbarnes]

unspoken part 2 || minho moon

minho x reader

summary: you don’t even see me, yet, i would walk through hell and across any sea if you asked me.

part one here!

warnings: angst! grammar errors most likely

word count: 1.1k+

masterlist

you've kept your distance from minho since the night at the gazebo. it was hard to fully avoid him since the two of you belonged to the same tight circle of friends. you'd cut the nights short claiming you were tired or skip dinner and lunch with everyone claiming you were trying to save money. truthfully, you weren't even sure if minho noticed your absence. he had been thrown full throttle into the honeymoon stage with his crush that he also hasn't been around as much.

the one place you couldn’t avoid minho was class. one, because you and minho never skipped class, and two, because you sat next to him.

you had signed up for an acting improv class to fill a gap in your schedule. you hated it if you were being honest. there was nothing you loathed more than performing in front of a group of strangers or friends, at that. each week you were forced to stagger up onto the stage and begrudgingly act. however, this week may have been your worst nightmare. the professor instructed that a small group of students would write short stories and the others will be randomly selected to perform one. of course, the performance was partner work and of course, you were assigned with who you sat with, and what a shock, you and minho were selected to perform later on in the week and not write.

minho’s head was buried deep in his phone the entire class. you weren’t trying to snoop, but it felt as if your eyes were magnets and minho’s screen was a beautiful big magnetic field. the text messages were littered with hearts and cute stickers. in a measly attempt, you acted as if you weren't staring when his head turned.

“i’m planning on officially asking them out this weekend,” he smiled.

you sucked on the inside of your cheek, desperately trying to suppress any negative remarks, “that’s… lovely.”

god, you felt horrible that you weren't being a supportive friend but you couldn't fake excitement for minho when your heart was crumbling to pieces.

most days you wished would pass quickly, hoping the sun would set early and the moon to take over signaling the start of a new day. this week, however, you wished twilight never came and time stood still so you could avoid the end of the week. unfortunately for you, that wish was never granted and you sat at your desk, drumming your fingers, patiently waiting for what was to come.

professor kwon summoned you and minho up to her desk and handed you each a copy of the short story you were about to perform.

"seems like your writer is quite fond of romance," she remarked as the paper slotted into your hand.

minho turned back to your shared desk without looking at the story but your eyes rapidly darted over the words before you scoffed, the papers nearly crumpled in your hand, "i'm not doing this professor kwon- this is," you laughed, "-this is not happening."

professor kwon's sharp eyes peeked over her glasses, "i suggest you do so if you want to pass the class. no assignment has been an issue for you before, why the sudden change?"

"it's nothing," you shook your head, anger laced in your tone.

her eyes scanned your face, lips pursed, "go practice."

with a sigh, you slumped into your chair. examining the paper and the long dialogue you had to act out almost immediately. the short story started in the middle of an argument between the two characters. it took every fiber of your being not to confront the classmate who wrote the story and ask her if she had been spying on you. the words on the page paralleling your current situation with minho in a way that was almost eerie, taunting you in your dismay. desperately, your mind spun of any ideas to get yourself out of this moment, but you heard minho start.

"just tell me!" minho pressed, acting in character.

your throat felt tight but you started nonetheless, “i can’t keep pretending that you don’t cloud every corner of my mind and every thought i have. some have called me crazy, said i was addicted to the idea of you, the idea of us that will never be. the us that will only exist in the quiet corners of my mind, hidden from the world. a sanctuary i preserve and escape to daily. and maybe- maybe they are right,” you paused briefly as your eyes started to sting with tears. you refused to look up at minho as you felt his eyes bore into you.

“you don’t even see me, yet, i would walk through hell and across any sea if you asked me. i would bear the brunt of any injury to have you notice me.”

a shaky exhale escaped your lips as you finally looked at minho, his gaze unwavering, “and… i love you. but, we will never be more than just a one-sided confession,” you whispered.

briefly, you stayed glued to your seat watching as minho’s expression became hard to decipher. the realization of what you’ve done came crashing down and you quickly threw the papers onto the desk and shot up from your desk muttering incoherent words and dashing out of class. you were gone before you could hear the whispers of the class asking each other what happened.

minho's features contorted in confusion as he watched you rip open the door and leave, but truthfully he was feeling confused before that. as he sat there listening to the words of your character, it felt too real. he observed the way your lip slightly trembled between words and the glaze of your eyes. he was wondering why his heart rate accelerated and his palms became clammy. his throat was tight and it felt like two tons was sitting on his chest, slowly and agonizingly piercing through his skin and crushing his bones and heart. there was a tiny voice in the back of his head cheering 'finally' as he listened to your character's words, words he wished were your own.

minho glanced back at the now abandoned script. he followed the lines until he noted your monologue was cut short. minho's eyebrows pulled together in confusion as he frantically flipped to the next page, searching for the remainder of the lines. he swallowed harshly as he realized you added in the last few sentences, the words that hit him the hardest.

“and… i love you. but, we will never be more than just a one-sided confession"

was nowhere on the script.

automatically his feet were moving at a rapid pace into the hallway. there was no sign of life beyond the echo of his thumping heart and heavy breathing.

____________

a/n: soo hehe did i mention i'm notorious for writing angst. i can't believe how many people loved part one so i had to continue this. ty!!

tag list: @5sos-saucyy @bangchansgirlsblog @tmr-simp7193 @animeenthusiastxoxo @tearsinmylatinaeyes345 @teaandbacon @mesmerizedkoo @byungazed @myselfsabotage @ferniessss

[sebsbarnes]

unspoken || minho moon

minho x reader

summary: there was a moment of consideration as you gnawed on the inside of your mouth. the weight of your secret was becoming unbearable.

part two!

warnings: angst! insecurity. probably a few grammar errors

word count: 950+

masterlist

a/n: i fear i couldn't resist writing for him. first work for him so there isn't others in the masterlist. i wrote this pretty quick so i apologize in case.

you always fought, but that night you didn't.

it was inevitable that when you and minho were around, some sort of bickering would ensue. it was as if the friendship you had relied on those sharp-tongued comments and eye rolls. there was some enjoyment in the banter; you could always rely on minho to be as quick-witted as you. most of the time, it was truly nonsense and comical to those around you, but sometimes he took it too far.

he would cross a boundary, known or unknown, and the aftermath was either venomous words spilling off your tongue or complete silence and avoidance.

it hurt, to ignore him. act like minho wasn't there. sure you would come around to him after a few days and pick right back up where you left off. and yes maybe it was unfair to ignore him after an argument, but that was you, that's what you did.

what you've really come to recognize is these silly little arguments hurt because you had feelings for minho. you hated the giddy feeling you had when he was around. the slight heat to your cheeks when he gave a real, genuine, compliment. the sizzling sensation that coursed through your skin when his hand brushed against you. or the way it felt like your chest was caving in on you and your lungs were screaming for help when minho confessed to q that he had a crush on someone, someone that isn't you.

so here you were avoiding him after he made an innocent remark about his crush. it shouldn't have, but it rubbed you the wrong way and perhaps it was because of the newfound knowledge of your feelings towards minho.

the evening was approaching and soon the sun would exchange places with the moon. the friday night would come alive and the sounds of eager students heading off campus would echo into the night, almost taunting you in your sadness. there was a nice footpath you've called home for the last week. after classes were finished you found yourself walking on the winding path away from school, taking in the fresh air and allowing yourself some peace. nestled a few feet away from the path was a small gazebo with a picnic table in the center. you sat down and allowed your eyes to close, soaking in the tranquility of nature away from the dizziness of life.

"hey..." a voice called out ripping you back to reality.

the voice. his voice. in this moment it made you feel sick. you swear you could feel the bile rising up and threatening to escape. your vision went white. heart beating so hard you could've sworn you saw its outline rising from your chest.

"hey minho," you exhaled as he sat across from you.

his throat bobbed, "how are you?"

you hummed in response, unsure what to say.

the silence between you stretches longer than it ever has. there was no space for quick-witted responses or light-hearted banter. minho didn't know what was the reason for your absence, but he missed you. when he looked at you your eyes didn't hold that mischief it normally possessed. he knew this was not a moment for a sarcastic quip.

"talk to me," minho nearly pleaded, eyes dancing across your face.

you paused trying to find a way to convey your thoughts to minho without confessing your feelings, "have you ever realized something too late?"

his eyebrow pulled up on his face, "well...of course, yeah. i think we all have."

"like, the thing is right there," you nearly laughed, "right in front of you the whole time. but by the time you realize, it's gone, it's moved on like everything else. i realized the importance of it too late."

you looked to minho who sat silently as you rambled. his eyes were clear of any judgment or jokes. the typical smirk etched on his lips was erased. his brows pulled softly together, a delicate ridge separating them. you watched as his hand snaked up from his lap and cradled your hand. his fingers lazily intertwining with your own.

"you know you can tell me anything," he said softly, his accent lighter.

you offered him a small smile. not a fake one, a real one. you could tell minho everything, everything but this. not when he is interested in someone else, you can't ruin that for him. can't ruin your friendship.

he sensed the hesitation, "...c'mon," he urged gently, eyes hopeful.

there was a moment of consideration as you gnawed on the inside of your mouth. the weight of your secret was becoming unbearable. all you wanted to do was scream at the top of your lungs for every person in KISS and for every star in the galaxy to hear that you were falling for minho. but before you could open your mouth and string together all the consonants and vowels for 'minho i'm falling for you' his phone rang.

minho's hand slid out from yours leaving you feeling icy but not as icy as the blood coursing through your body as you watched a shy smile adorn his face. one of his hands ran through his hair, a movement he did when he was feeling nervous, in a good way. you sat in agonizing silence waiting for him to hang up.

a pink hue dusted across his cheeks, "that was uh-"

"go," you replied softly, barely above a whisper, "have fun."

the moonlight that illuminated your face was now blocked my minho's standing figure. if you could, you wanted to be swallowed by his shadow into the darkness.

"oh. what were you going to say before the call?" minho asked.

you shook your head, "it was nothing."

[sebsbarnes]

one thing ab me is i AM doing to start writing 400 different stories at the same time and leave them all unfinished for long periods of time...tell me how i have multiple tangerine fics, joel miller, prison break, and lost fics all half finished...and now i want to write an xo kitty fic... my brain (and fingers) needs to stop and commit to one😭

[sebsbarnes]

Hi i love your work! I was wondering if u could do a fic where tangerine x reader are running from enemies on a job and they end up making out to try and hide from the enemies because pda makes people uncomfortable? Like the comment black widow makes to steve rogers in the winter soldier before she kisses him?

im backkk! so sorry for the massive delay, i love this request. it may be a little rusty so i apologize now.

pda || tangerine

tangerine x reader

warnings: brief talks of shooting and guns

word count: 1.2k+

masterlist

"you're a fuckin' idiot, tan," you snapped in defeat, looking at the man who appeared clueless about the situation.

he tsked and continued to move deeper into the building, "there's nothing to worry about. alarm gets tripped so what? we got a few minutes before anyone shows up."

with slow footsteps you followed behind him. irate was the only word to describe your mood. you mimicked him behind his head, arms up in the air, your gun flailing around dangerously in your right hand as you muttered in a whiny baby voice, 'we got a few minutes'.

tangerine and stubbornness go hand in hand, you can't have one without the other. his attitude made missions sometimes far easier when there were issues with other individuals or, in this case, far more difficult. instead of waiting an extra five minutes for the incoming call from lemon providing tangerine with the keycode, tangerine took it upon himself to smash the keypad. of course, an orchestra of alarms rang out and bounced off the walls of the building in an almost deafening manner. but rest assured, there was no one in the building...according to tangerine.

"c'mon we need to hurry up," you said, now walking in stride with him, "second-floor unit 204."

it was a file the two of you were after. information was scarce to get. a mission would come through, assigned off to you, and that was the extent of knowledge you had. as far as you and tangerine knew, your boss wanted the list of names encrypted on the file. what you didn't know was that the building was teeming with employees ready to defend the file.

there was a loud boom followed by an eerie silence. immediately you and tangerine halted, his hand coming to hover in front of your body preventing you from moving. tangerine's eyebrows were pulled into a deep furrow attempting to use some sort of instinct to decipher where the noise was coming from. he caught your eye before following your pointed fingers that were angled above and to the left. just as he pivoted his head, a symphony of gunshots rang.

"move!" he demanded, gripping your jacket and shoving you behind a structural pillar.

the whizzing of the bullets sounded as if you were surrounded by a swarm of bees. you were silently cursing at tangerine for his rash decisions earlier. you watched as tangerine shot five men in succession.

"oh but we had time, right?" you barked, aiming your sights on seemingly the last gentleman. with a squeeze of the trigger, the bullet went flying, piercing the man on the side of his neck.

tangerine sprinted from his position, "let's go," he directed, grabbing onto your wrist.

"god-," you panted, "i hate working with you sometimes."

"oh shut up," he huffed as your legs pounded against the waxed tiles, your wrist still bouncing in his grasp.

just as the two of you were about to push open the front doors, a bullet shattered the glass causing the two of you to stumble. daring to peer behind you, you were met with about four men charging forward.

"shit, c'mon," tangerine rushed.

tangerine guided you around the corner of the building, sprinting into a busier part of town. there was no chance of losing the men and although the distance between grew wide, you could still hear the pounding of the footsteps. with you in tow, tangerine darted into a convenience store. through short breaths, you could hear tangerine muttering how there is a back exit. you took the opportunity to shrug off your jacket and toss it down one of the aisles in a measly attempt to disguise yourself. without warning you gripped tangerine's button down and popped the first three buttons open. he sent you a look of disgust.

"can you try disguising yourself?" the annoyance in your tone evident. without a word, tangerine huffed as he discarded his perfectly tailored jacket and vest by shoving it into a man's arms.

you and tangerine decided to cut into a park. it was risky doing so. the park only had one real entrance and exit and there wasn't much to hide behind. tangerine figured it was the best option instead of walking the busy streets and putting innocent lives in danger. so, the two of you darted through the gate but not before one last look at the unwelcomed guests trailing behind. thankfully, there was enough distance that the man leading the pack didn't notice the small detour you two took.

"what the fuck!" you groaned quietly after a few minutes of heaving breaths and pebbles scattering beneath your feet. you noticed one of the men walking slowly through the park's weaving pathways.

tangerine ran a hand through his hair, "we got nowhere to go."

you felt your palms getting sweaty as you tried raking your brain of what to do. tangerine looked just as clueless as you. the park had one entrance and the two of you were trapped in the corner.

"kiss me."

"what?" tangerine asked incredulously.

"pda, it uh-" you stammered, "it makes people uncomfortable."

a nervous chuckle escaped his lips but you couldn't miss the way his tongue poked out between his lips, "i'm not-"

before your mind could process your movements you were shoving tangerine by the shoulders and forcing him to sit down on the park bench. as if it was the most natural action in the world, you placed your knees on either side of his legs and sat on his thighs. leaning down you pressed your lips against his. your hands trailed up the back of his neck and into his now loose curls. you noted how tangerine didn't seem to move at first until it was like he suddenly came to life and his hands gripped at your hips.

tangerine's mind was spinning. he'd never dare to admit but he dreamed of this. the way your lips slotted perfectly into his, the feeling of your heart thumping against his chest, your nails gently gliding against his scalp, the feeling of your weight on him.

the kiss was gentle yet desperate. a kiss so perfect that you only read about it in romance novels. too perfect that you didn't even hear the suited man wielding a gun mutter how disgusting people are these days. his grimacing face going unnoticed as your lips molded to tangerine's. the echo of his footsteps receding faded into the night.

your lungs burned for air but you couldn't bring yourself to pull away. tangerine's cologne clouded your senses with a perfect mixture of cedarwood and green mandarin. his facial hair tickled at your face. you could feel tangerine's thigh flex with the movement of your body. his hands cradled your frame, your shirt slightly bunched in between his fingers. it pained you to pull away but you lost the ability to breathe.

your eyes fluttered in a sense of disbelief but also awe as tangerine's eyes bounced around your face. he noted the way your chest rapidly rose and fell, but for him, his breathing paused. he took in the way your lips were slightly swollen and glistening, the vanilla lip balm you applied earlier now transferred to his lips. your shirt now lopsided on your shoulders from him gripping your sides. though only one lamp lit the bench the two of you were perched on, tangerine could still see the pink flush dancing across your cheeks. gently, he raised his hand and brushed his thumb across your bottom lip, already missing the kiss.

if pda made people uncomfortable, tangerine wanted the whole world to feel unsettled.

[sebsbarnes]

happy one year of writing for tangerine!

co-workers || tangerine

tangerine x female reader (assassin)

summary: "if it took you getting shot for you two to finally, maybe, realize you like each other i would've used you as target practice a long time ago."

warnings: language, violence, fighting, injuries, blood, weapons

word count: 3.4k ; angst, fluff

tangerine masterlist

rocking back and forth on your heels you patiently wait for the bullet train to zip into the shinagawa station. the platform was moderately busy, people dressed for various occasions. some in sophisticated work uniforms, kids bopping along with their school bags, and some dressed for a night out. you, however, were not.

sporting a black jacket, long sleeve turtleneck, leggings, sneakers, and a black bag you could've faded into the growing dark sky but here you are illuminated by the neon lights of the platform begrudgingly watching the bullet train's head lights fly past as it rolled into the station.

you were ordered to be here by your employer at the request of the white death. something about his son and a briefcase of money that needed some extra eyes watching over. apparently, the white death had some gut intuition about the two unnamed men he had hired for the job and wanted your skills onboard. your employer gave you very little detail about what to expect, no description of the briefcase, a grainy photo sent via email of the white death's son who had horrid face tattoos in your personal opinion, and when asked about the men already tasked to the mission your employer replied, 'eh two guys both kind of weird' and left it at that.

you boarded the train and stood near the doors, tight lipped smiling at those who walked by, waiting for the entryway to be clear. kneeling you pulled a small revolver out of a false bottom in the bag and slipped it into an inside pocket of your jacket, next pulling extra rounds and stuffing them into the other available pocket. you fumbled with a small piece of crumbled paper telling you to go to car three and a seat number that the son should be at.

quietly making your way to car three you re-patted your now stuffed pockets, adjusting your jacket and hair to relieve any sort of budding nerves. that is until you noticed the two kind of weird guys your employer told you about.

"well, can spot that fitted suit from a fuckin' city away" the two men stood in front of you who were deep in conversation snapped their necks towards you.

"well darling, and i'd spot that shit box dyed hair from the other side of the fuckin' earth" you couldn't help your arm raising to touch your long, and well dyed hair, at tangerine's rebuttal.

you tried to hide the laugh that threatened to break through as the three of you stood quiet for a few seconds following his comment. lemon broke first pushing past his brother to embrace you in a hug, "haven't see you in a minute, was beginning to get worried."

the three of you knew each other quite well, hell, the three of you lived together for a while. you had been under tangerine and lemon's employer for a long time but shit happens and it was best you found a new employer. lemon was more talkative and affectionate of the two, constantly talking your ear off and giving you hugs whenever he saw you, strictly friends though. tangerine, well, not affectionate and not talkative. it took a while for tangerine to mutter more than five words to you for the longest time. being outright friendly just isn't his nature and you can't fault him for that. the twins cared about you deeply, you knew lemon did within a week. tangerine took more time. it wasn't at the flip of a switch, it was gradual, perhaps may be even more natural.

it was a culmination of things that made you realize the rough man cared and appreciated you. like how after a job the three of you would go eat, you would jokingly (but also quite seriously) say how you were still starving. tangerine would slip you some of his food, 'not that hungry' he'd shrug. or how on missions he unconsciously used himself as a shield for your protection. or when he would come back from being out, holding a plastic bag in hand. 'saw these figured you might need 'em' plopping the bag in front of your seated position at the kitchen table and continued walking before you could comment on the new clothes that replaced the ones recently destroyed on a job.

or how days before you left the previous employer, you, tangerine, lemon, and an additional guy were assigned to a job that did not go so smoothly. it really was no one's fault, no one could've predicted how many men were hiding in the warehouse. each of you sported numerous injuries and lost many weapons but still completed the job. you and the other assassin were alone sitting on the floor when he suddenly started berating you. saying how shit you were as an assassin, spewing hatred and profanities amongst other vile things. you had no energy to fight back, 'maybe you're right' is all you could muster before getting up and searching for a secluded place to sleep for the night. you had awoken from your sleep hours later to the sound of a gunshot, wandering until you found someone.

'tangerine, what was that? i heard a gunshot' you asked the man who was promptly walking away from scaffolding towers.

he looked at you quizzically wiping his hands on his trousers, 'i think you might have been dreaming darlin'' all you could do was rub your head in confusion, 'let's get you back to bed, love.' the next morning only three of you returned from the mission.

"i've missed you, lemon," you smiled pulling away, holding his shoulders to look at him.

you and tangerine exchanged small nods, a hint of a smile ghosting his lips. you turned towards the figure seated beside the men stepping to stand in front of who you assume to be the white death's son. to say something seemed off was an understatement. you gently grabbed the ends of his open jacket bobbing his head back.

"what the fuck?!" you jerked back dropping your grip as his body slumped forward. an older woman a few seats up shushed you.

"what the fuck?!" you whispered harshly at the twins, bug-eyed gesturing rapidly at the dead body in front of you.

"ask fuckin' percy over here," tangerine pointed to lemon.

"i'm not percy?! okay yeah i lost the case but i didn't kill the kid."

"well lemon, if you didn't have the brilliant fucking idea to stash the case, we would've been sat our squeaky fuckin' asses down in the seat not havin' to get up. young. sweet. not all there." tangerine hissed back, poking at lemon's forehead to emphasize.

mildly entertained by the twins infamous banter you sat down watching the two go back and forth before tangerine swiveled towards you both hands flat, palms up, pointing at you, "and no disrespect love, but why the hell are you here?"

"to babysit essentially. i'm here to make sure you two do your job and by the looks of it you done fucked that up. what an honor it will be to be ripped limb by limb by the white death with you idiots."

the three of you sat deliberating what the hell to do next and tried figuring out who else is on this train taking interest in the briefcase and the son. tangerine cleaned up the boy's face with his handkerchief and adorned his face with momonga glasses to hide the fact that he's well...dead.

the twins decided it would be effective splitting up and checking the train cars for the briefcase.

"ill stay here," you spoke as the two men grabbed their things to investigate the train.

"what?" tangerine asked eyebrows knotting together.

"i'll stay here. i'll see if anyone comes back for him," gesturing towards the limp body, "besides, my mission is a bit different. i'm not supposed to be seeking danger. if it comes my way then i can step in."

tangerine smooth out his moustache inhaling deeply seeming to oppose you being here by yourself.

"okay well, right then." lemon nodded stalking off down the train.

tangerine hesitated looking down at you in the seat.

"i'll be okay."

that is until ten minutes later a man sat across from you, "hi. there's a gun under this table."

"shhh," you hissed, "this is the quiet car babes."

the man in the hat and glasses took a moment to look over your shoulder at the sign, you took this opportunity to grab his hand, that held no gun, underneath the table yanking his body forward, table smashing into his shoulder.

"who the hell are you." you questioned, still holding onto his hand.

"ladybug. johannesburg, remember? your buddy shot me after you baited me to the parking garage?"

"so you're after the twins?" you asked ignoring what he said.

"the twins have a briefcase i need. i'm really not looking for trouble here miss, i just want to get the hell off this train and go meditate." he sighed taking his free hand through his longer hair.

"so you took the damn briefcase." you released his hand and brought your foot up to kick him in the groin. while he was hunched over in pain you stood up launching towards him to put him in a headlock, "where's the case."

"look lady," he sputtered, "i really don't want to hurt you."

ladybug punched your forearms to loosen your grip and when you didn't budge, he turned his head to bite your wrist.

"what the fuck!" you yelped springing back. he took this moment to sweep your legs out from underneath you. you hit the floor with a loud thud, the ache in your shoulder radiating down your arm. he leaned over your body giving you a weak smile and in return you kicked him in the face, blood instantly pouring out of his nose.

"shit balls!" he exclaimed. you clamored to your feet and started running throughout the bullet train. ladybug's steps got closer and closer and that's when you felt a burning hot sensation on the back of your shoulder. your movement immediately stopped, groaning as you reached for the knife in your back pulling it out.

"prick." you hissed turning around to face the man. your arm swiped in front of his face, the blade making a whooshing noise in the air. you managed to clip the side of his cheek.

thankfully the car the two of you were now fighting in was not occupied. he gripped your arm throwing you against the wall and stalked towards you. you stashed the blade in your pocket, shrugging your jacket to the ground, opting to fight him with your fists. you dodged the first hit and returned him a hit in the jaw. he staggered and taking advantage of his lower stance punched you in the stomach.

"i don't like hurting women." ladybug exasperated as the two of you continued fighting, punches being thrown, skin being split, bodies flying across the car.

"seems like you're in the wrong line of work, dumbass," you gripped the back of his head slamming his face into the top of one of the seats. the crack you heard made you wince. ladybug's forehead was split, blood running down his face into his eye.

it was obvious his physical state was weakening. he swallowed deeply, eyes flickering to a spot beyond you. before you realized what was happening, ladybug was running towards your jacket where the knife was. he managed to grab it and came barreling towards you. once again the battle was back on. the knife dancing between you two as its ownership changed frequently. you and ladybug were a panting mess with new cuts decorating your bodies. this old piece of shit wouldn't let up. you were becoming exhausted and you needed this to end somehow. the two of you were both on the floor, the blade in your hand. you knew you didn't have enough stamina for another round of fighting, the cuts scattering your body were aching, the large stab wound to your shoulder was now numb. instead, you sliced the closest things to you that would cause the most damage.

his achilles.

ladybug screamed out in pain, shaking hands wrapping themselves around his ankles in some attempt to soothe the sheering pain. you stood, looking over the man, the blood from the knife dripping onto your shoe. you stepped around his cradled body, making your way up the train. tangerine hasn't come past yet meaning he is still ahead. the door swished open but you'd only make it one step in before crumbling to the ground.

immediately you started hyperventilating from the intense pain that seemed to hit every nerve in your body. blinking rapidly as you scooted yourself against the wall. then you felt it. a warm sensation running down your skin, your clothes feeling wet. blood. your body was shaking, open lips huffed out puffs of breath. slowly and carefully, you looked back at ladybug.

your gun in his hands.

he must have grabbed it when he retrieved the knife in your abandoned jacket. fucking stupid.

ahead in the train tangerine heard a faint noise, but nonetheless he knew it was a gunshot. he slicked back his hair and removed his gun from his waistband. he carefully entered each train car, observing anything out of the ordinary. the door in front of him opened and his step faltered when he saw a black sneaker, and then a leg, and then the body as his eyes raked up the slumped figure.

he dropped to his knees, gun now on the floor, "hey tan," you croaked.

"bloody hell," he sighed, his eyes darting across your entire body.

"stop checking me out i don't look my best," you tried joking. tangerine didn't seem amused as he noticed your torn clothes, bloody face, your hair matted with blood.

"that old bag of bones can really fight. but he took a cheap shot when my back was to him," you finally answered. you lifted the hem of your shirt to show tangerine the bullet hole in your lower stomach above your hip.

"jesus," he muttered swallowing thickly. he seemed stunned to see you in this condition. he also seemed lost on what to do. his eyes wouldn't stop looking you over, his hands unconsciously went to your face brushing your hair out of your eyes.

"tangerine stop fucking staring at her we need to help her," lemon had found the two of you. his voice booming causing tangerine to snap out of his daze.

lemon pushed him to the side, immediately coming to your aid. he worked with what he could find. your shallow cuts weren't important. the wound to your shoulder would need stitches later on. the entrance and exit wound of the bullet was causing the biggest issue as you had lost a decent amount of blood from it. lemon continued to do his best as you sat there eyelids half open.

tangerine was silent, more silent than ever before, as if he were stuck in a trance. you slowly moved your fingers towards his hand that was resting on the floor. two of your fingers wrapped around his pinky jerking him out of his trance. this somehow sparked something in him as he shot up from the floor, grabbing his gun making sure it was loaded and set off on a mission you could only assume to be to find ladybug.

your lips pulled down in a frown as he left. you wanted him here. his presence, his touch, his whatever. any semblance of that cocky man you wanted next to you for comfort. you knew you were going to be okay, you were weak right now but the thought of him beside you somehow made you believe you would feel stronger.

lemon let out a soft chuckle as he finished securing cloth to your wound, "if it took you getting shot for you two to finally, maybe, realize you like each other i would've used you as target practice a long time ago."

you slapped his arm, "fuck off."

lemon and you agreed you need to rest, he helped you to sit in an empty seat, propping you against the window.

"alright, now, if anything serious happens i will text you alright. in the meantime, sit here and wait till we come get you, you hear me?" lemon demanded.

sometime had passed and you noticed less and less people on the platforms boarding the train. it was too quiet. your stomach was telling you something was off. you winced in pain as you gripped the armrest to stand up. a bit wobbly but you managed to put one foot in front of the other. as you continued you heard voices close by. the doors to one of the cars was open by bags tripping the sensors. you saw a young girl in pink standing looking scared and him. the greasy haired prick who shot you. he still had your gun in his hand pointed at someone.

tangerine.

"fuck." thankfully you held onto the knife and before he could notice you moving towards their train car you brought your arm over your head, swinging forward, releasing the knife. it lodged itself below ladybug's collarbone. he yelped out in pain stumbling a bit and that's when his finger hit the trigger.

"you bastard," tangerine hissed as the bullet hit his leg.

you took this opportunity while the men were distracted and ran towards ladybug. you propelled yourself onto him, spinning and wrapping your legs around his neck, you removed the blade from his chest and stuck it in the base of his neck.

"you don't touch him," you spit at the man as he crumbled to the ground.

the girl was long gone. now facing tangerine you noticed all the bruises and blood on him, drenched in sweat. his curly hair now laying across his forehead. his jacket long gone leaving him in a white button down that was criminally low on his chest and a vest. you couldn't help but check him out.

he started to say your name but you cut him off, hugging him tightly around his neck, knocking the wind out of him. he hesitated a moment before firming wrapping his arms around your waist, tucking his head into your hair. after a few minutes he pulled back, sliding his hands to your waist to look at you. you held onto tangerine's elbows as his eyes wandered your face.

"darlin'," he started, "i'm- i'm sorry i didn't do anything when i found ya."

you chuckled through your nose, "tan. i'm fine."

"you're injured n' i didn't do anything except fuckin' look at you." he shook his head in disgust.

"tangerine," you said firmly placing your hands on his chest, "stop. i am fine. i am okay. we all react differently to seeing our friends hurt."

"friends, " he half laughed, "you realize i don't see you as a friend."

you paused, hands loosening their grip on his arms. god, you were dumb to think you were even friends. you're coworkers, hell at this point maybe even acquaintances, its been five months since you lived with them. all you could mutter was a shaky 'oh.'

tangerine laughed, "you know love, you can really be dense sometimes."

your mouth formed an 'o' trying to figure out what to say next, "dense?"

"love, i've wanted you the moment you almost sniped my head off in vienna." tangerine chuckled, moving hair out of your face. you couldn't look at him instead you toyed with his open shirt, fingers brushing against his hot skin.

"i guess i am kinda dumb right? should've put the pieces together when you killed anyone who was mean to me." you smiled.

he leaned down gently placing a kiss on your lips. you immediately kissed back, tasting the metallic flavor of the blood that was on his lower lip. your nails ran across his scalp sending a shiver down his spine. tangerine gripped your lower back harder, minding the wound, to bring you in as close as physically possible.

tangerine pulled away from the kiss, bringing his mouth to your ear, "by the way darlin', you spinning around on his neck and what you said was really hot."

"then i suggest we get the fuck off this train soon and i'll show you the move personally."

[sebsbarnes]

6 months || benny cross

benny x reader

summary: so you stood there on the porch taking in the silent environment like you had every day for the last six months, trying to make sense of it. each night you sought solace in your sleep and would forget about the empty space in your heart that benny once occupied.

warnings: angst

word count: 1.9k+

masterlist

a/n; dialogue italicized as everything is a memory. based on austin's portrayal of the character, not the real person. saw bikeriders and had the biggest urge to write at least one fic hehe. i put this together in like 20 mins plz forgive mistakes i didnt correct :) set in the time he disappeared for a year but he isn't married in this. quick switch up from atj

spring turned into summer and soon enough, it was fall. with each season passing you found yourself pacing the porch, hoping to hear the sound of the motorcycle ripping into the air from a distance. you imagined that when you finally lifted your head you would see benny parked on the other side of the street, he'd carefully tip the bike gently onto the kickstand and readjust his leather jacket. he would reach into his pocket pulling out the pack of cigarettes before his lips closed around the end to inhale the smoke. benny would give you a boyish smirk and flick the cigarette to the ground, his heavy boots crunching across the cement and up onto the porch.

"darlin'," his voice soft, eyes scanning your face as if he hadn't seen you in days.

your eyelids would flutter down and a warm heat would rush up your face. you wish you could blame it on the illinois summer but the fallen leaves would protest your lie.

"benny," you'd say.

each day he'd hear his name called out many times by many people, but for some reason the way the consonants and vowels rolled off your tongue... it was different. benny would suck his teeth trying to suppress the pleased smirk before leaning towards you and planting a kiss on your forehead.

but as you paced the porch you didn't hear his motorcycle in the distance and when you lifted your head you weren't greeted by the smoke across the street or the sound of his boots walking towards you.

it had been about six months since you saw benny. he simply vanished one day. that last night together, you found home in his chest as you had for the past year. the two of you talked until sunrise before you whispered to him that you needed to get sleep for work that afternoon.

"sleep tight 'pea," his deep voice lulled you. however, when you woke you were not nestled in your home. your head was rested beneath his pillow, his lighter gone from the nightstand, his vandals jacket no longer hanging from the wooden chair by the closet. immediately it felt different, you knew this time he was gone for good.

town was small, so small in fact that everyone knew everyone, and if a new face showed up, the whole town knew within hours. benny was that new face. he showed up on his motorcycle with nothing but the clothes on his back and little to say to most people. you didn't care to meet the mystery man everyone was whispering about but it seemed like the universe had a different idea.

"come on!" you yelled slapping your hand on the hood of your car. you were pissed, to be frank. the frustrated groans and mumbles of being upset that you just spent a whole month's paycheck to fix your car was wasted as the engine stopped working. not only that, you were a couple miles from home, and in the measly attempt to see what was wrong, oil and grease stained your clothes.

your hands gripped the front of the car and you hung your head, "ma'am," a low voice called out.

shifting your head to the voice you saw an unfamiliar man. you straightened up, eyebrows pulling in as you gave the man a once over.

"do you nee-"

"who are you?" you asked.

he paused a moment, "benny. my name's benny," he held out his hand for you to shake. you said nothing as you hesitantly placed your hand in his. they were rough and calloused, seamlessly matching the rest of his appearance. his blonde hair slightly windblown, dirt on his cheek and white tank top, the leather jacket covering his wide shoulders appeared worn with patches scattered about.

"do you need help?" benny asked gesturing towards your car.

"quite friendly to a stranger, hm," you replied, skeptical of the man.

"well, hopefully not strangers for long."

a laugh flew from your nose as you raised your eyebrow at him. benny was handsome and bold and you could tell trouble loomed around him, "i don't even care for this," you gestured with a dismissive hand towards your car, "piece of shit anyways."

benny nodded his hand slightly, his eyes looking over your beige car. you slammed the hood down and dusted your hands on your ruined pants. walking around the side you grabbed your bag through the window and started to walk off in the direction of your house.

"i didn't get your name," benny called out, taking a few steps towards you.

"no need to," you looked over your shoulder with a grin.

this time benny laughed through his nose, his eyes trained on you as you walked away from him.

it pained you to think of the memory of first seeing benny. of course, you were hesitant, but immediately charmed by him. there was this air of confidence and mystery from benny that was missing from the men in your town. what surprised you most was the kindness that was hidden beneath the rough layers.

when you went to check on your car you found benny hunched over the engine, tools in hand and scattered on the floor. you didn't say anything to him but instead watched from a distance. you did this for two weeks as benny worked on your car, unbeknownst to him, with an audience of one the whole time. you could tell benny was making good progress so on day 16 you rounded the same corner as you did for the last 16 days with a case of beer in hand.

"i think it's time for a break," you said startling benny.

his eyes were wide and a hand flew to his chest, "jesus! you're lucky i had nothin' in my hand."

without much convincing and now with a working car engine, you and benny made your way to a large field. the two of you spent hours sitting on the trunk of your car and pouring the beer down your throats. you watched as the sun said hello to the moon on its way down to rest and the man on the moon observed you and benny's small chuckles and coy smiles.

"so why here?" you finally asked the question that had been on your mind.

"well," he sighed deeply adjusting the sleeve of his jacket, "truthfully, i ran out of gas."

you thought for a moment, "why not leave after getting gas?"

benny didn't respond right away. he found his head lifting towards the sky. a small smile adorned his face, yet, you hadn't noticed. benny stared at the moon, and the man stared back at him. he felt his cheeks heat up as if the moon had found out his secret, words he hadn't spoken out loud yet, simply a silent glace between the two knowing parties.

"i like it here, it's different... it's special," he finally spoke, head turning back to you.

you let out a fake laugh, "something special, here? in this town? are we sure we are both in the same place right now," you objected in disbelief.

benny didn't reply. he knew he was right. this town was special and so different from where he lived. so you both sat in comfortable silence, swirling the remaining bit of liquid around in the glass jar occupying your hands. benny knowing that it's not special here because of the open fields or good bars, but because of the person beside him, even if you didn't realize it yet.

that's why the pain you feel now is the same as the first week he left. the way benny made you feel was indescribable, something only the most skilled writer could articulate. but now, you felt suffocated in your home and everything reminded you of him. each time you step on the creaky porch steps you hear the echo of his boots. every time you open the fridge you see the stupid beer he likes, a single lonely can standing in the back corner. getting into bed every night, you refuse to touch the pillows on his side, but, you also refuse to get rid of them. each morning the dented wall beside your bedroom door mocked you and every time you tried to hang a picture to cover the damage, the photo fell. it was like a sick prank was being pulled, like from a far benny was forcing you to reminisce what happened in that spot 14 months ago.

"c'mon sweetpea!" benny laughed as you giggled behind him.

"i'm coming i swear! my feet are hurting benny."

benny immediately turned around, his expression playful but a bit more serious, "well why didn't you tell me that, silly."

you went to protest but benny interrupted by picking you up and holding you against his chest. you let out a small shriek, wrapping your legs around his waist and gripping at the collar of his vandals jacket.

"benny! it's only like twenty more steps to my room," you whined, hiding your face in his neck.

he tutted how he didn't care how close or far something is, he'd never want you to be in pain. during his small rant, benny opened your bedroom door but didn't notice the shoes at his feet and he tripped slightly. the hand he had pressed against your spine managed to protect you from hitting the wall, but his hand went through it.

"oh my god, are you alright?" you dropped from his grasp, immediately checking his hands for cuts.

"a lot worse has happened," benny smiled, trying to ease your panic.

"that doesn't make it okay benny. i don't care how small something is, i don't want to see you hurt," you said softly holding onto his hand.

benny felt something in his soul change. his hands cupped your cheeks and he leaned forward and pressed his lips to yours. his lips were soft and his tongue tasted like cigarettes, something you've become accustomed to now. benny pressed you against the wall as your hand snaked up to run your fingers across his scalp. the kiss was intense and passionate and you never wanted it to end, like his lips should've been kissing you every day and every night and they should never leave until the last shred of air burned at your lungs.

"i love you," he whispered in the brief moment he pulled away before reconnecting with clashing teeth. his words didn't register at first as you found yourself too enthralled with the kiss. soon enough, it hit you.

out of shock, you gave benny a slightly forceful shove back, "don't say that if you don't mean it."

"i wouldn't lie to you," benny's rough voice spoke softly, "i love you. i've been in love with you."

you wrapped your fingers around the silver necklace lying on his chest and gently tugged him towards you, "and i love you, mr. cross."

so you stood there on the porch taking in the silent environment like you had every day for the last six months, trying to make sense of it. each night you sought solace in your sleep and would forget about the empty space in your heart that benny once occupied. as you awoke each morning having forgotten, you would soon be reminded the full extent of his absence by the empty bed and dented wall.

[sebsbarnes]

i still want to write the request i have, im not ignoring them!! im finally getting a bit more time to write but i started a new one on a non atj character :o

...also the nosferatu trailer.. i fear atj's character will have a grip on me

[sebsbarnes]

a melody || tangerine

tangerine x reader

summary: so you stood hand in hand with tangerine, admiring your lover one final time. accepting that your love on earth will now be a memory for those who knew you.

warnings: angst!

word count: 350

masterlist

a/n; v short blurb that came to me, i will work on requests soon

the wheels of the bullet train scraped against the metal tracks and with each rotation of its wheel, a discordant melody echoed into the night. the bullet train's song approached kyoto rapidly, the wailing of the metal sounded like a lone violin begging for the attention and admiration of an audience. thankfully, that night it had one.

you and tangerine stood in the aisle of the car silently knowing what was to come. the song was beginning to reach its crescendo as the walls around you shook violently. his hand was gently placed in yours, his thumb caressing your hand ever so slightly. tangerine turned toward you and he didn't need to utter a single sound for you to understand what he wanted to say. you both knew your time would end when the wheels sang its last note. so you both stood there, studying the features of one another, one last loving gaze into the other's eyes. tangerine's hand rested upon your cheek, catching the stray tears trickling down your skin. his smile was small but present. a mixture of acceptance, love, and sorrow etched into his smile lines. you mirrored him, not fully sure what to do, but knowing he needed comfort as well.

it was strangely peaceful in the midst of the song and the rattling of the train. a hauntingly beautiful lullaby to send you off into one final slumber. your bodies swayed with the train as if you were slowly dancing. overall you were happy to be in this moment with tangerine. being alone in this horrible symphony would be too much to bear. it would've felt like every string, brass, and percussion instrument flocking around your body inching in closer to you, ridiculing you in your last moments.

so you stood hand in hand with tangerine, admiring your lover one final time. accepting that your love on earth will now be a memory for those who knew you. tangerine's last words were drowned out by the train unleashing its final harrowing note, 'i love you', whispered into the air for no one to hear.

[sebsbarnes]

I have this wonderful, super beautiful, really amazing, life changing, incredibly astonishing website that I use for movies called bflix and all you need is an adblocker ☺️ there’s some pop ups but as long as you don’t press on them, you’re good. It has Bullet Train on there and it literally saved my life, I was actually gonna kms if it didn’t have it because that movie is like my life support

OMG NO WAY?? i havent heard of this before ill def have to check it out. i was so surprised when i saw the 'leaving soon' banner on netflix for BT, i feel like it hasnt been on there that long and they always remove movies/shows quick it seems (esp the ones i like🙄) thank u sm for the inside scoop<3

[sebsbarnes]

wait not bullet train leaving netflix soon