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clarepreed · 1 year

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Choke

Story Summary and Content - 4,861 words. Featuring characters from "Slip and Fall." Josh must save Paloma when she chokes on a grape. Choking and on-site resuscitation.

A noise from another part of the house startled Josh awake. The bedroom was dark; blackout curtains were drawn closed over the windows.

Paloma, he thought, rousing himself with a stretch and a yawn.

He kicked back the blanket and climbed out of bed, padding through the house in his socked feet until he reached the kitchen. Paloma was at the sink, rinsing a bunch of grapes. He took a moment to admire the curve of her body and her long dark hair cascading down her back.

“Hey, babe,” he said, coming up behind her and sliding his hands from her sides down to her hips. “How’s Ellie?”

“Oh, I woke you!” she exclaimed, turning in his arms to cuddle against him. “You haven’t even been off shift that long. I’m so sorry!”

“It’s okay, I wanted to see you.” He leaned over and kissed her.

“Mmm,” she said as the kiss ended.

“Ellie?” he nudged.

“Oh!” Paloma offered him a broad, sparkling smile. “It’s great news, she’s going home in a couple of days. She has doctor’s appointments and physical therapy, but she’ll be home!”

Josh felt the warmth of pleasure and relief in his chest. Ellie had been steadily improving since narrowly surviving the drowning accident. Physically, she had some struggles, but they’d all been relieved to discover she was still herself when she woke up. “That’s… That’s awesome, babe. Really something else.”

His eyes watered, and Paloma reached up and cupped his face in her petite hands.

“You did good. Oh!” she exclaimed, pulling back and reaching for her phone on the counter. “You’ll want to see this!”

He watched her unlock her phone and open the gallery, then she turned the phone toward him. It was a picture of Mateo and Ellie. Ellie was in her hospital bed, looking much improved, a hand pressed to her mouth. Mateo kneeled by the hospital bed, an open ring box in his hands.

“Hah!” Josh laughed, tapping the screen to keep it awake. He nodded in approval at the visible flush across Ellie’s cheeks. “He decided not to wait!”

“And look at this,” she said, swiping across the picture to open the next image.

This one was also of Ellie and Mateo, both sitting on the bed. They were beaming, Ellie with a crooked smile, her left hand extended toward the camera. Mateo held a small whiteboard, which read: “She said ‘yes!’ Thank you, Josh, park staff, and EMS!”

“Ah,” he said, shaking his head and rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand. “I’m sorry I couldn’t make it, but I’m glad he didn’t wait! And I’m glad you woke me up with all of your banging of cabinet doors and pots and pans.”

“Hush!” Paloma rolled her eyes and turned toward the sink. She broke off a section of wet grapes from the bunch and held them out. “Want a grape?”

“I’m good, but are you by any chance putting these in chicken salad?” He waggled his eyebrows at her. Chicken salad sandwiches were one of his warm-weather favorites.

“I even bought croissants,” she said, winking. She popped a couple of grapes in her mouth.

“All sandwiches should be eaten on croissants!”

Paloma laughed, or tried to. She sucked in a breath, and he heard it stop in her throat. She spun away from him and bent over the sink, shoving her fingers in her mouth. One partially chewed grape dropped into the sink, but he didn’t hear her cough or take a breath.

“Paloma!” he called out urgently, grasping her by the shoulders.

Josh pulled her away from the sink and turned her as her hands moved to her throat. Her mouth was open, her face red, bulging eyes watering. “Shit! Babe, are you choking?!”

She nodded, her eyes darting around in a panic, a quiet clicking sound coming from her throat.

“Okay, I’m going to help you! You’ll be okay!” Josh spun her around and buried his fist above her navel, covering the fist with his other hand. Then he jerked his hands in and up, the force making Paloma double over in his arms. She clutched at him, hair spilling over her shoulders as he wrenched his hands into her abdomen again.

“Cough it up, Paloma! Come on, cough it up!” By the fourth try, he was starting to panic, and he yanked so hard he picked her up off the floor.

A fifth thrust, her struggling body weakening against his. He steadied her on her feet and braced her with his arm diagonally across her chest, his hand gripping her jaw. He bent her over and then reached toward her phone on the counter. A quick swipe up from the bottom and he opened the emergency dialer and tapped 9-1-1.

As the call rang, Josh slid his knee between Paloma’s legs and hit her in the center of her back with the heel of his hand. She was wriggling feebly in his arms, her fingers scrabbling at her throat. He hit her between the shoulders again.

“9-1-1, please state the nature of your emergency!”

“Medical!” Another smack to Paloma’s back. “I need paramedics at 555 Westover St. in Anderton, my wife is choking! I’m a firefighter with Anderton Fire Department, I’m having some difficulty clearing her airway!”

He hit her twice more with the heel of his hand and then hoicked her upright, his arms wrapping around her again. Paloma was beginning to flop around as though boneless, though when he looked at her face, her eyes were blinking and her open mouth worked, drool running down her chin. He heaved his fist into her again.

“Cough it up, baby! Jesus!”

“Sir, to confirm, you are at 555 Westover St. in Anderton and your wife is choking?”

He forced his hands into her again. “Yes! I’m performing abdominal thrusts and back blows. She’s still conscious, but that’s not going to last—”

“I have a unit headed in your direction—”

“No, no! Paloma, stay awake!” She sagged in his arms, her head tipped forward, arms dangling. He jerked his hands into her twice more and then lowered her to the cold tile floor. “Paloma! Cough it up and take a breath! Breathe!”

Her hair pooled around her head, half-lidded eyes staring up out of her purpling face. Josh tipped her head back to open her airway, extending her neck and exposing her self-inflicted scratch marks to the light. He leaned his ear over her mouth and pressed his fingers to the pulse point in her neck.

“Her pulse is rapid and thready!” he said out loud for the benefit of the operator. “She’s not breathing. I’m checking for the obstruction and then I’m going to start chest compressions.”

He opened her mouth, turning her head side to side and then reaching inside with his fingers, sweeping toward the back. “Dammit!”

Then he opened her airway again, pinched her nose, and pressed his mouth over hers. He could feel the saliva drying sticky on her chin. He tried to force breath into her lungs, but their cheeks bulged out and the air escaped with a sputtering noise. He tried one more time and then straightened up, calling out: “Her airway is still obstructed and the grape isn’t visible. I’m starting compressions now—”

“Go ahead and count to four with me,” the operator said.

Quickly finding his landmark, Josh linked his hands and then pressed the heel of his hand into her sternum. He forced her breastbone down two inches, counted out: “One!” and then released the pressure, making sure he came back up completely.

“…two, three, four, one…” the operator counted in sync with him.

Come on, babe, this is insane, please, please, please…

He’d thought performing CPR on Ellie had been frightening, but this was his wife. Her head rocked with each compression, but the slight huff of air he’d grown to expect was absent. Her eyes were still open, staring blankly into space. Further down her body, her shirt bunched up under her breasts, exposing several inches of skin. Her abdomen bulged with each compression.

He felt her cartilage give under his hands and saw the way the bottom of her ribcage bobbed with each thrust. His own throat was growing tight as he worked, his panic a coiled snake ready to strike.

“…two, three, four, one, two—How far out is the ambulance?!… three, four…”

After a short silence, the operator said: “ETA is five minutes.”

Too long. Too long without oxygen.

“I’m reassessing her airway,” he said, pausing compressions and grasping her jaw, checking again for the grape. Her mouth was empty. His voice cracked as he blurted: “Fuck, Paloma!”

In desperation, he shuffled around and straddled her hips, quickly clasping his hands back together and pressing the heel of his hand above her navel. He forced his hands into her, in and up toward her diaphragm. Her torso jerked, her head tipped to the side. He thrust his hands in again, listening for any hint of expelled air. On the third try, he heard a pressurized, wheezing cough escape her mouth. He climbed off her and scrambled around to her head.

“Hey, okay, I’ve got you…” he opened her mouth, her head still tipped to the side, and swept a whole grape out with his finger. It landed in a small puddle of draining saliva. “I’ve removed the obstruction! Giving her breaths now! Come on, babe!”

He turned her head back toward the ceiling and thrust her chin forward, noticing as he did that her lips were blue and her face was going chalky and gray. He pinched her nose and sealed his mouth over hers, blowing a deep breath into her lungs. Her mouth was slack and cool under his. The sensation made him shudder, thinking how soft and warm they’d been just moments prior. Her chest rose, then fell when he broke the seal. He followed rapidly with another breath and pressed his fingers into her carotid, whispering: “Come on, babe, come on, come one…”

Ten seconds passed, and there was no reassuring flutter under his fingers.

“No, Paloma!” Feeling sick, he started compressions again. “I’ve lost her pulse. Switching to thirty compressions, two breaths. Seven, eight, nine…”

“I’ve updated the paramedics, sir, thank you for the information.”

“…seventeen, eighteen, nineteen…” His mind was whirling, shock and the first fingers of grief addling his brain. He shook his head and forced his hands to shove her sternum down to the appropriate depth.

“Just got word that a fire truck is arriving, ETA less than a minute. Can they get into your residence?”

“…thirty! I’ll go open the front door now!” Josh sprang to his feet and sprinted out of the kitchen, running through the living room. He unlocked the front door and flung it open. As he turned to run back to the kitchen, he heard an engine’s siren in the distance.

Sliding back into place next to Paloma, he quickly reopened her airway and pressed his mouth to her cooling skin, watching her chest rise as he forced his breath into her. He gave her a second breath, listening as the siren grew closer.

“Our friends are coming to help, babe! Please hang on! One, two, three…” Her sternum collapsed under his hands and sprang back up. He told himself to remember that she needed him to do this, he had to do this or he’d never be able to talk to her again. The conversation they’d just had would be the last one. He’d never again see her smile, never have children with her, never…

By the time he heard shouting from his front door, his eyes brimmed with tears.

“Josh?! Josh, we’re coming in!” The woman’s voice was a relief. Marcy was the only female firefighter in the department; she was also a paramedic.

“In the kitchen!” he shouted, leaning over to give Paloma another breath. Most of the department had been to his house multiple times. They knew where his kitchen was and they knew Paloma.

Marcy’s here, babe, she’ll be able to help you.

By the time Marcy and Logan made it back to the kitchen, Josh had started chest compressions again. “…three, four, five, six, seven, eight…”

“Paloma! Oh my God!” Logan exclaimed, hurrying in after Marcy. Marcy had a black duffel over her shoulder and Logan carried the truck’s AED. They were both already gloved up and ready.

“Ambulance is three minutes out, paramedic crew,” Marcy said, dropping the bag on the floor. “We’ve got an AED and I can intubate with what I keep on the truck. Logan, take over compressions. Josh, tell me what happened while I get the AED going. And grab a BVM out of my kit.”

She spoke rapidly, her tone the one she would use to talk to him if he were working on a stranger and not his wife. Her manner had a steadying effect. He lifted his hands off Paloma’s chest and Logan leaned in, dwarfing her chest with his large hands. Josh crawled over to the duffel and unzipped it, quickly spotting the packaged ambu bag.

“She choked on a grape. I was right there, but… I couldn’t get it out. I couldn’t…” He attached the bag to the mask and cleared his throat. “I started chest compressions when she passed out. I cleared her airway, but she was already in cardiac arrest. She’s only been down a few minutes…”

He tipped Paloma’s head back and pressed the mask to her face before squeezing the bag. He watched Paloma’s chest rise just as Marcy cut up the center of Paloma’s light blue shirt, quickly snipping the center of her bra.

She likes that shirt, he thought dully. He squeezed the bag again as Marcy uncovered Paloma’s breasts, exposing the reddened bruise in the center of her chest.

Logan resumed chest compressions while Marcy prepped the AED pads.

“Connect the pads. Plug in the connector.”

“… twenty, twenty-one, twenty-two…”

Left bare, Paloma’s breasts wobbled with each forceful compression, her abdomen bulging in a rhythmic wave. He was holding her airway open, but he could feel the force of the compressions trying to shake her head from side to side. He heard her cartilage protest and hoped he’d have the chance to take care of her while she recovered from the necessary but brutal compressions.

Josh squeezed the bag as Marcy adhered the pads to Paloma’s skin, quickly rubbing them to ensure they were stuck. He gave her another breath, then he heard the AED proclaim: “Analyzing heart rhythm. Do not touch the patient. Analyzing heart rhythm. Please wait.”

He held his breath.

“Preparing shock. Move away from the patient.” They all glanced at each other to confirm that none of them was touching Paloma. “Shock will be delivered in three… two… one.”

Paloma’s body flinched, the energy centered in her chest.

“Shock delivered. It is now safe to touch the patient. Resume CPR for two minutes.”

“Continue one more round, Logan,” Marcy intoned. “Josh, move over to the AED. I’m going to intubate her.”

Josh scooted around to the AED. He’d intended to watch Marcy, but instead, he looked down at Paloma’s face. Her head had tipped over and she was facing his knees. She looked terrible; her skin a ghastly color. Marcy put her hands on Paloma’s head, tipping her face toward the ceiling and reopening her airway.

He reached out and grasped his wife’s hand.

“Paloma,” he whispered. “I love you.”

By then, Marcy had a laryngoscope in Paloma’s mouth, sliding the blade down her throat. She reached for the prepped endotracheal tube and said: “Pause compressions.”

When the ambulance gets here, I have to call Mateo. He needs to know…

“Josh, bag her for me while I listen.”

She’d already connected the bag; he released Paloma’s hand and carefully took over squeezing, watching as Marcy listened to Paloma’s lungs with her stethoscope.

“I’m in. Resume compressions, Logan. Keep squeezing, Josh.” She inflated the cuff, then used tape to secure the tube. Reaching for the bag, she said: “I’ll take back over ventilation. Thank you.”

Now, the compressions and breaths continued without stopping. Logan was pumping her chest hard, the expression on his face determined. He didn’t falter; each compression pushed her sternum down to the correct depth, making her breasts quake and her stomach bulge. Every few seconds, Marcy squeezed the bag. Josh took Paloma’s hand again, holding it tight. Her fingers felt cold.

“The ambulance is less than a minute out,” the operator said. Josh hadn’t remembered she was still on the phone.

“Thank you,” Marcy said.

The kitchen seemed to fill with the whooshing sound of the bag and Logan’s harsh breathing. Paloma’s shoulders twitched with each compression, the force traveling through her breasts and stomach, even down to her feet. She’d painted her toenails red, and he watched them sway back and forth. In the distance, he began to hear sirens.

“That’s them,” Marcy said, squeezing the bag.

The AED broke in: “Stop CPR. Do not touch the patient. Please wait.” Logan raised his hands.

“Analyzing heart rhythm. Please wait. Do not touch the patient. Analyzing heart rhythm. Please wait. It is now safe to touch the patient. Resume CPR for two minutes.” The AED had determined there was no shockable rhythm.

“No! Shit, Paloma! Please…” Josh’s hands came up to tear at his hair as Marcy and Logan changed positions. Marcy straddled his wife, found her landmark between her exposed breasts, and started hard and fast compressions, putting her body weight into the thrusts. Logan squeezed the bag, inflating Paloma’s lungs.

The ambulance is in front of the house, he thought. Please don’t be too late. Please, God…

He jumped to his feet and ran through the house, meeting them in the driveway. The medics were pulling a loaded gurney from the back of the ambulance; one of them looked up as he approached.

“You have the right house,” he said. “She’s in the kitchen. My wife, Paloma. She choked on a grape, and I got it out, but I was too late.”

He continued talking as they hurried to the house. “She’s been down for almost ten minutes, but I started chest compressions as soon as she lost consciousness and we’ve kept them up. My coworker just intubated her; she’s had one AED shock, but when it analyzed just now… there was nothing to shock.”

“Thank you, sir.” The paramedics were both men, and they looked familiar. He was sure he’d seen them on scene. The one in front of the gurney said: “You’re with the fire department, right? We’re going to take good care of her. You’ve done a good job.”

Josh helped guide the gurney into the kitchen and then he scooped Paloma’s phone off the floor. “The paramedics are here, I’m going to disconnect.”

“I’m Pete, this is Manny. Patient’s husband told us she’s been without a pulse for ten minutes, witnessed choking incident, CPR started immediately. One shock administered, patient is now asystolic?”

“That’s correct,” Marcy said. “I’m a paramedic, willing and able to assist.”

“Thank you, how long have you been performing compressions?” Pete asked. Manny was unloading the gurney, setting bags and a cardiac monitor on the floor.

“Ninety or so seconds.”

“Keep going for now. We will let the AED do its thing, then Manny will perform chest compressions. Marcy, you’ll get her on the monitor. I’m going to establish an IV.”

Josh backed away several steps and typed in Paloma’s phone passcode. Her wallpaper was a picture of the two of them in the backyard, pretending they were on a beach vacation since it wasn’t in their budget. His throat spasmed. He found Mateo in Paloma’s contacts and hesitated, his finger hovering over the call button.

“Stop CPR. Do not touch the patient. Please wait.” Marcy climbed off of Paloma and began unpacking the monitor.

“Analyzing heart rhythm. Please wait. Do not touch the patient. Analyzing heart rhythm. Please wait. It is now safe to touch the patient. Resume CPR for two minutes.”

“Manny, on her chest. Keep squeezing the bag, Logan. I’m going to push vasopressin. In three minutes I will follow with epinephrine., But we analyze again in two.”

Josh placed the call and started pacing as he pressed the phone against his ear.

The phone rang three times, and then Mateo answered. His voice had the tinny quality of a call from within the hospital, but he sounded happy.

“¡Hola! Herm—”

“Mateo, it’s Josh.” His voice was hoarse and cracked. “I’m on Paloma’s phone.”

“Are you alright?” his brother-in-law asked. “You sound sick.”

Marcy peeled off the pads from the engine’s AED and replaced them with a larger set. The monitor began to alarm.

“No… uh, Mateo, it’s about Paloma.”

Several seconds of silence. “What’s that sound? What do you mean?”

Marcy pushed a button, temporarily silencing the alarm. The paramedic Manny was blocking Josh’s view, though his shoulders continued to bob rapidly up and down.

“Josh? Josh, is something wrong? What do you mean? Where’s Paloma?” Mateo’s voice got quieter like he’d turned his mouth away from the phone. “I don’t know, I think something’s wrong!”

“She choked,” Josh managed. His throat spasmed painfully. “She choked… I…”

Another long silence.

Josh continued: “On a grape. It was stuck, Mat, I was there and I couldn’t get it out… I couldn’t, and by the time I did, she’d already…”

“Already what?” Mateo’s voice was barely perceptible.

“The paramedics are working on her now. I lost her pulse, Mat. I lost her pulse.” Tears finally spilled over, and he sank to a crouch. He was vaguely aware of Marcy glancing in his direction.

“Is… is my sister dead, Josh?”

Josh shook his head, then made himself speak out loud. “No! No, I mean… Fuck, they’re doing CPR, they’ve got a defibrillator, they just gave her vasopressin... That’s a medication they use for... arrests. She’s had quality CPR the whole time! No, no, no, she’s not dead!”

“That’s right,” Marcy called over. “We haven’t given up. She just needs a minute for the medication to circulate.”

Josh dragged himself back to his feet and moved to the side until he could see Paloma. The medic who’d taken the lead was taking her blood pressure. Logan kept squeezing the bag. Manny was still performing rapid, textbook compressions. Watching them felt strange. Unreal. His wife lay on the floor completely limp. Every movement of her body, from the rhythmic ripple of her abdomen to the flop of her arm as Marcy moved it to the side, was someone else’s doing.

“Mateo?”

“Should I come to the house? Will you b-be there long enough for me to—”

“Stay there. At the hospital.” Josh dashed the tears from his eyes. “I’ll see if they’ll let me ride up front. I will let you know… everything. How she is, when we load up, when we arrive…”

“Analysis, pause CPR.” The alarm started bleeping again. This time the lead silenced it. “Still asystolic. Logan, please switch with Manny. I will administer epinephrine in one minute.”

“Put the phone on speaker!” he heard a quiet voice say in the background. Then: “Josh, it’s Ellie. I put you on speaker because Mateo is having difficulty speaking. What… How is it… going?”

“They are giving her more medication in a minute. Epinephrine.”

“She’s going to be okay,” Ellie said.

Josh didn’t reply.

“Josh? Mateo?” Ellie said, sounding upset. “She’s going to be okay!”

The soles of Paloma’s feet were dirty, he noticed. He wished he could wash them; he knew her dirty feet would bother her. Probably more than knowing her breasts were exposed.

“Pushing epinephrine,” the lead said.

The next sixty seconds seemed to crawl by. Ellie said something, he responded with a one-word answer that may not have been relevant. The lead felt Paloma’s pulse in her neck, then her wrist. Josh assumed he was checking the effectiveness of compressions. Logan shoved his interlinked hands between Paloma’s breasts. Manny squeezed the bag.

“Pause compressions,” the lead said. “Analy—”

“She’s in v-fib!” Marcy said, her voice loud, evidently loud enough to carry through his phone call because he heard Ellie ask what that meant. A different alarm filled the kitchen. Marcy pressed a button on the monitor defibrillator. “Charging.”

“Everyone clear!” All four of them shifted away, Manny unhooking the bag. “Administer the shock.”

Marcy pressed a larger, flashing button. Paloma’s body jerked, and as soon as she was still, Marcy pressed her fingers into the side of Paloma’s neck. Manny started squeezing the bag again.

“Still in v-fib,” the lead said. “Two more minutes of CPR and then we analyze again. Logan and Manny, switch.”

“They’re going to shock her again in two minutes,” Josh said into the phone. The device was hot against his face; he could feel sweat trickling down his temple. Manny had chosen to straddle Paloma, one foot planted on the tile and his shoulders over his hands as he gave her rapid, deep compressions. Josh could see her stomach undulating, her legs rocking.

Marcy paused the alarm again.

“Good CPR, keep it up,” Peter encouraged them. “Analysis in one minute.”

Ellie and Mateo were silent, and all Josh could do was try to control his breathing. He heard the unmistakable crack of something giving away in Paloma’s chest; Manny didn’t change his technique, ignoring the sound as he forced her heart to pump blood around her body.

As he watched, Josh realized the grape was still laying on the floor, miraculously intact.

“Alright,” Peter said. “Time to analyze.”

Compressions stopped.

“V-fib, everyone clear!”

Manny climbed off, breathing hard.

“Clear!”

Marcy pressed the flashing button and Paloma’s torso briefly jumped off the floor, the subtle jerk telegraphing into her arms and legs.

“Pulse check!” Peter reached over and unzipped Paloma’s pants, yanking the waistband down and pressing his fingers into her femoral artery. Marcy pressed hers into Paloma’s neck. “Still no pulse! Marcy you’re on her chest, Manny I want you monitoring. I’m pushing another epi. We’ll analyze again in two!”

Marcy slung her leg over Paloma’s hips and leaned her shoulders over her hands, her pace ferocious as she forced Paloma’s sternum into her heart.

Pete, he realized, was on the phone, asking about a second unit, “if needed, possibility of refractory ventricular fibrillation”

Don’t die, please don’t die, I’m not ready…

Marcy’s shoulders bobbed, and Logan squeezed the bag. Josh could see Marcy’s compressions registering on the monitor.

Soon, it was time to analyze again, and Marcy climbed off of his wife.

“V-fib, everyone clear, everyone clear, okay, administer shock!”

Manny pressed the flashing orange button and Paloma’s chest twitched and her shoulders jumped. The room was briefly silent as the paramedics each searched for Paloma’s pulse.

Josh saw it before anyone spoke it out loud. A familiar pattern migrated across the monitor screen. Distinctive, identical waveforms.

“Sinus rhythm,” Peter said.

“We got her!” Logan shouted.

All of the air rushed out of Josh’s lungs, and he found himself crouched on the tile again, feeling like the top of his head might come off. “She has a pulse!” he wheezed into the phone.

“Oh my God!” he heard Mateo say, followed by Ellie: “She’s going to be okay?”

“She’s making respiratory effort,” Manny said. He was watching her chest and squeezing the bag in sync with the irregular rise. “Ma’am, Paloma? If you can hear me, the tube down your throat is helping you breathe.”

Josh got off the floor and slid in next to Marcy, reaching for Paloma’s hand. “Paloma! Babe? You’re okay. It’s Josh. I’m here!

Her eyelids fluttered, though she didn’t open her eyes.

“Let’s get her packaged and loaded up,” the lead medic said. I’m going to go ahead and start IV fluids for hypotension; we’ll be prepared for pain management.”

Josh squeezed her hand and looked at the lead medic. “May I ride up front?”

“You may, sir. Not a problem.”

“Thank you… Mateo, did you hear any of that? She’s starting to breathe on her own. They’re going to let me ride in the front.”

Mateo said something in Spanish that Josh couldn’t translate, but he could understand the relief he heard in his brother-in-law’s voice.

“I assume you need to get off the phone,” Ellie said. “Call when you can. Tell her we love her!”

Josh disconnected the call and put the phone in his pocket. “I love you, Paloma. And so do Mateo and Ellie. I’ll be right back; I need to find your wallet and put on some shoes or they might not let me in the hospital.” He squeezed Paloma’s hand again and looked up at Marcy.

“It’s okay,” she said, nodding. “Do what you need to do. We will holler if she wakes up, okay?”

“She’s responding to stimuli,” Manny said. “It’s a good sign.”

Josh brought her cold hand up to his lips, kissed her fingers, then gently laid her hand on the floor.

“I’ll be right back,” he said again. “I love you. Don’t go anywhere.”

#resus writing #cpr resus #female resus #medical drama

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lo-frequency · 3 years

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Hi I love your blogand your writinh so much it's so good!

Could I request a shoto/denki and toga x chubby reader (if you're not comfortable writing with toga you can just to denki and shoto) thanks!

Fortunately for you, anon, I did them all! (and it's kinda long, so my bad lol) Also, there's mention of insecurity in Toga's, but it quickly turns to fluff. As always, please enjoy!

Denki

-Believe it or not, Denki was nervous to confess to you because he was afraid of being rejected. You’re so cute and cool and that he was sure there’s no way you actually returned his feelings. It was worth a shot, tho. So imagine his joy when you said you felt the same way :)

-Rants about you all the time to his friends, to the point where they feel like they know you personally before you’ve even met. They also get to hear all the tmi stories about what the two of you do alone, because he can’t help himself (if they don’t walk away first, lol).

-He knew you looked squishy before, but couldn’t believe how soft your skin was when he finally got to hold you. It was almost unfair. He often finds himself caressing your skin mindlessly whenever you’re close together, hand always ghosting across your arm or hand (or your thigh ;) ).

-Lays back on you to play video games, his head cushioned by your pillowy chest and the rest of his body situated between your legs as you watch him play. Play in his hair or rub his arms and he will fall asleep. The tingly feeling he gets when cuddling with you is his favorite kind of electricity.

-Zaps your butt “by accident”

-Easily flustered, but he tries to play it off with his cool act. Just kiss his cheek or tell him he’s handsome and watch him ramble about knowing he’s “irresistible” until he flushes red up to his ears.

-Denki can be pretty corny at times but he does have his serious moments, mostly when you two are alone together. He shows you what’s beneath his goofy facade, a boy with dreams and aspirations just like everyone else. After seeing this side of him, it’s a little irritating to hear people reduce him to an idiot (although he does have his moments 💀)

-Them thighs tho 😏 “Dang babe, you been working out?” “Not really, Kaminari” He clucks his tongue. “Sheesh, imagine being that thicc...naturally” he says, shaking his head as if it were a shame.

-Truly believes he has the best s/o in the whole school. Does not take offense to being called a simp 🤷🏾‍♀️.

-Wasn’t aware of it at first, but became super attracted to people with your same body type. His eyes always lingered on them in public, and he couldn’t help but think they were kinda hot (sorry, y/n)

-Very affectionate, but loves to receive as much as give, so please give this man plenty of kithes and hugs, he gets the shakes if he doesn’t get his daily dose of Y/n love.

-Y’all are so silly together, always cracking jokes or giggling about something. You eventually develop a similar sense of humor, and have so many inside jokes people can’t decipher your conversation. If anybody has anything negative to say about y’all: Denki puts his hand over his earpiece and says to you (from right next to him) “Pikachu to Big Sexy, I’m picking up some negative vibes on the radar, do you copy?” And you, holding your hand up to your own ear, say “Affirmative, doing a diagnostic scan...it’s a hater, confirmed.” Cue the obnoxious laughter, lmaoo

-Never forgets the anniversaries or relationship milestones. He even remembers the date of yall’s first kiss, and thinks about it every time the date passes (although he wouldn’t tell you that tho, that would be too sappy, even for him).

Shoto

-The way you and Shoto became acquainted was a little unorthodox. You fell on him during a training session one day, and the feeling of your soft body pressed against his was a new experience for him, to put it mildly. Shoto stood up from it a changed man. Call it an awakening, if you will.

-You were a little put off by all his staring since that incident, thinking he didn’t like you despite all your profuse apologies. But after Izuku dropped hints that it was probably fascination rather than contempt, your relationship progressed smoothly from there (thanks mostly to your efforts, since Shoto had no clue how to approach you).

-Shoto still had a staring problem once y’all became official, too. Whenever you asked him what he was looking at, he was not ashamed to tell you exactly why: you are too fine not to stare (ok, maybe he didn’t say it exactly like that)

-Not overly affectionate in public, but has a tendency to always stand or sit close to you whenever he can. Just sharing the same space is intimate to him.

-Sharing a bowl of soba noodles 💕

-Buys you expensive gifts all the time, and loves to see you using them. Especially if it’s clothes, it’s like a piece of him is always with you even when you’re not together (plus, it shows you’re all his ;) ).

-Now, I’m gonna tell y’all a little secret. It’s pretty shocking, so be warned: Shoto sometimes pretends to be oblivious when you hint at wanting affection, just to make you beg for it. Maybe you brush your hand against his, and he moves it. Or maybe he saw you lean for a kiss and he casually turns the other way just to hear you complain. He likes it, makes him feel wanted.

-Devious, I know, but just get even 😏

-When y’all are alone, he loves when you hold him close and just sit there, peacefully enjoying each other’s presence. He also likes to lay on your lap while reading a book or watching tv with you, slowly nodding off as you comb your fingers through his hair.

-Obsessed with you, but not in an unhealthy way, it’s just that you’ve become such a big part of his life that he kinda...thinks about you all the time. Shoto is canonically not very talkative, but I think that with you, he’d open up more about his true thoughts and feelings. So when he shoots you that blank stare when his classmates are up to some bull, you know exactly what it means.

-Also revels in knowing you that well, too. He’d flex how much he knows about you to the other people and sometimes unintentionally embarrasses you in the process

-For example: “Here Y/n, a cherry popsicle just for you!” Shoto immediately hands you some napkins before adding “Y/n doesn’t usually eat cherry popsicles, they always drop the red juice on their clothes.” Like gee, good looking out Shoto...thanks for telling the whole class I can’t eat without messing up my clothes 💀. He’s sweet tho, he has good intentions.

Toga

-She made it very clear from the beginning that she liked you, and with how smitten she was, who were you to refuse her (aggressive) advances?

- She thought your plump figure was just so cute, one of the cutest things she’d ever seen, and she quickly developed an unhealthy obsession with squeezing your chub.

-When you two are together, Toga is always attached to you in some way, whether she’s hanging off your arm or has her arms looped around your shoulders.

-Starts to eat the same foods you eat, borrow your clothes all the time, listen to your favorite artists, whatever way she could become closer to you

-Writes you love letters or sends you cute text messages all the time, you’re always on her mind, even when she’s on missions. “My Y/n is wayy cuter than you! Let’s get this over quick so I go back to them, ok? 🥰 🔪🔪”

-I know y’all were waiting for this...she most definitely uses her quirk on you. Toga loves you so much, she wants to become you. So one day, you finally allow her to give it a try.

-She tells you to close your eyes, and when she gives you permission to open them, you find yourself staring...yourself in the face. And you do not like it 🤢. There’s something so strange about seeing yourself in 3rd person, in all dimensions. Is this how you look to her, all the time? You quickly lose interest in this little charade, looking everywhere but at yourself as Toga prances around doing sexy poses in your body and giggling. However, when she sees your reaction, she stops.

- “Hm? What’s wrong, Y/n?” she asks with a tilt of (your) her head. You glance at yourself, then look away again. “This is so weird. I don’t like looking at myself” you say, grimacing at the slight bounce and jiggle of your body when she walks toward you.

-In Toga’s eyes, you were absolutely adorable. In fact, she was getting a little hot and bothered just taking peeks at herself (you) in the mirror. She’s used to feeling you up for sure, but being you was a whole other experience. Though, she can understand your insecurity. After all, it’s hard to live in a world that constantly tells you your true self is abnormal. She knows from experience.

-So, she comes up to you with a flirty grin on her face...and starts showering you with kisses, in your body! You start to protest, weirded out by the feeling of your own lips on your cheeks but she would not relent. Toga was determined to show you what being loved (by you) felt like from her perspective, with your irresistible “imperfections” and all 💕

Thanks for tuning in! :)

#bnha x chubby reader #chubby reader #x chubby reader #mha x chubby reader #todoroki x chubby reader #toga x chubby reader #denki x chubby reader #bnha x reader #bnha x gn!reader #plus size reader #todoroki x reader #toga x reader #himiko toga x reader #denki x reader #bnha x plus size reader #bnha headcanons

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storiesforallfandoms · 3 years

Text

everything i’m insecure about ~ corpse husband

word count: 946

request?: no

description: in which the things his fans say become too much for her and she starts to believe them

pairing: corpse x female!reader

warnings: swearing, angst (kinda?), insecurities

masterlist (one, two)

The Discord disconnect sound alerted everyone that someone had left the call, but it was the bright red letters reading “(Y/S/N) has left the game” that brought their laughing to a halt.

“Did (Y/N) leave?” Rae asked.

“Wifi might’ve dropped,” Jack responded.

“The wifi is working fine for me,” Corpse told them. “I don’t hear her moving in the other room.”

“Corpse, if you want to go check on her we’ll wait to start the lobby again,” Toast offered.

Corpse shook his head, forgetting that his friends couldn’t see them. “No, I’ll leave and come back in a bit. You guys can play without me.”

He left the Among Us game and placed his headphones aside. (Y/N) hadn’t come into his room yet, which was why Corpse thought she had merely disconnected by accident. If she had decided she was finished streaming, she would’ve told everyone and come over to join him in his room.

He walked to the guest bedroom where (Y/N) had her streaming set up. Instead of being sat at her computer like Corpse expected, (Y/N) was laid on her back on the guest bed, staring up at the ceiling. He could see something shiny on her cheeks, and realized they were also flushed - she was crying.

Noticing Corpse walk in, she quickly wiped her face and tried to smile. “Hey. Are you done streaming?”

“I wasn’t, but I may be now,” Corpse responded. “What happened, (Y/N)?”

“Nothing. Don’t worry, go back to your stream.”

Doing the exact opposite, Corpse crossed the room and laid next to (Y/N). He took her into his arms and rested her head on his chest. This was enough to finally break (Y/N) and she began to cry into Corpse’s chest.

Corpse smoothed her hair and allowed her to cry as she needed. He wasn’t going to push her to talk if she didn’t want to.

After some time, (Y/N)’s sobbing started to calm down and she spoke, “They hate me.”

“Who hates you?” Corpse asked.

“Your fans. They hate me. They’ve been spamming my social media and my chats with so much hate. I turned on subscribers only chat, but some of them even ended up subscribing to send me hate. I turned off my social media comments and replies and my inboxes, but they’re still getting to me somehow.”

“What do they say?”

(Y/N) hesitated. She already felt like she had said too much. She didn’t want to make Corpse upset with his fans. Obviously it wasn’t all of them giving her trouble, but it felt like the select few who were had made it their live mission to make her miserable.

“(Y/N),” Corpse prompted after a prolonged silence. “What are they saying?”

(Y/N) sighed and finally said, “They keep saying you should be with Rae instead of me. They post clips of you and Rae when you stream together and say you’re cuter together than we are, and that she’s better for you than I am.”

Corpse felt his anger rise at this. He didn’t mind the playful shipping his fans did - like Corpsekkuno - but when they took it too far like this he hated it. Especially now, seeing (Y/N) so upset over things that were just untrue.

“You know they’re wrong, right?” (Y/N) was silent. Corpse moved his head to try and see her face, but she moved to look away. “(Y/N).”

“They’re not completely wrong,” she said.

“Babe - ”

“She’s so much older than I am,” (Y/N) cut him off. “She’s so much more mature. And she’s pretty, and you two get along so well.”

“She’s like my sister,” he added. “(Y/N), they’re just trying to get in your head. I love you more than anything, and only you. You’re the one I want to be with, and in my eyes, you’re meant for me.”

Tears started to form in her eyes again, but this time they were from happiness. Corpse squeezed her slightly and kissed her forehead.

(Y/N) shrieked and giggled as Corpse stood and lifted her from the bed. He carried her to his room, where they both realized Corpse was still streaming. He placed (Y/N) down onto his bed and leaned into his mic. “Sorry for being gone so long guys, but I’m gonna dip. Hit me up for the next lobby.”

His friends chorused goodbyes and well wishes for (Y/N) before Corpse left the call.

“Sorry to anyone watching for the silence,” he said to his viewers. “I hope the Discord call without the visuals made for great out of context jokes. I’ll talk about my reason for going MIA later, but for now thanks for watching and I’ll see you guys next stream.”

He got in bed next to (Y/N), but this time he rested his head on her chest.

“You didn’t need to end the stream,” she told him. “I wouldn’t have minded watching for a while.”

“Nah, I would’ve went on a rant if I kept streaming. I want to cuddle with you for a while, then I want to show you that I love you and only you.”

(Y/N) smiled and wrapped her arms around Corpse. She ran her fingers through his curly hair, taking in the familiar scent of his cologne mixed with his shampoo.

“I love you, too,” she whispered into his hair. “Thank you.”

“You don’t have anything to thank me for. Everything I say is the truth, and you know I’m always here to assure you, babe.”

She kissed the top of his head, silently thanking him again.

#corpse husband #corpse husband imagine #corpse husband x reader #corpse #corpse imagine #corpse x reader #imagine #one shot #fanfiction #fanfic #fandom

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maximons · 3 years

Text

Without You

Summary: Everything seems to be going alright for Wanda Maximoff, but a mission gone horribly awry makes everything crash and burn.

Word Count: 3,101

Genre: Angst

Requested?: Yes

Warnings: Graphic depictions of violence, mentions of blood, burns, scarring

A/N: Alright kids, you ready for angst time? My first full out angst fic, oh boy. This ones got no happy ending guys, so do with that what you will. This takes place during Civil War, so spoilers...? I guess? I’d say Happy Reading, but I don’t think you guys will be that happy by the end of this sooo good luck!

Lagos.

That’s the place where everything in Wanda’s life fell apart. Or at least fell apart even further than it had before.

Some of the team were out on a mission. You guys finally managed to track down Rumlow and his gang after about a year of searching. Everything was going fairly well, yes there was some collateral damage, and things didn’t exactly go according to plan, but overall, it looked like you guys would come out of this with a win.

And then, it happened.

Wanda and you had begun to jog up to Steve’s location, where you saw him stare Rumlow down. Something in you just told you that this wasn’t going to go well. You looked at the scene in front of you, and then your gaze fell onto the building behind it. It was too close for comfort.

“Babe, I’m gonna go check that building.” You turned to your girlfriend. “Looks like there could be a lot of people in there, I’m gonna try to get them out.” She looked at you, and then to the building briefly. Part of her wanted to question why when the fight was happening out here, but she knew in your line of work things can be unpredictable.

She nodded. “Okay, be safe.” You nodded back with a small smile, and pecked her on the cheek.

“Always am.” With that, you ran off.

It was only about two or three minutes after you ran in when things went to hell.

Rumlow pulled a pin on his vest, and Wanda reacted as quickly as she could, capturing him mid explosion in her magic. She lifted him up, trying to get him as far away from the people below as possible, but she couldn’t hold it anymore. The explosion went off.

Blowing a huge hole into that building.

Wanda stood there, shocked for a moment over what just happened. Her hand came and slowly covered her mouth, mind going over all the damage she just caused. She vaguely heard Steve calling for fire and rescue, and then it hit her.

You were in there.

“Y/n...” She whispered, still in a state of shock, but she quickly snapped out of it and sprang into action. “Y/n!” She heard Steve yell for her to wait, but she didn’t care. She took off, flying up and landed in one of the building’s destroyed floors.

She did her best to ignore the carnage around her, carnage she caused. She pushed down the bile that was rising in her throat, and continued her search for you.

And then she found you.

You were a super soldier, so luckily you didn’t die from the blast, she could still feel your pulse. But you didn’t look good.

You were lying on the charred floor, unconscious. Half of your suit was burned off, leaving nasty burns all on your arm and torso, some even creeping up your neck and face. Blood also dripped down from an open wound on your temple.

Wanda couldn’t bring herself to care about your appearance, though. You were still alive, and that’s the main thing she cared about right now.

“Don’t worry.” She sobbed out, hand gently caressing your unburned cheek. “You’re okay...you’re gonna be okay...” She tore her gaze away from you for a minute, and looked around. Tears falling at the sight of multiple bodies, people who weren’t as lucky as you.

People who were dead because of her.

“...I’m so sorry...”

The next week was chaos.

You were brought to the compound’s medical facility immediately, doctors working fast to try and save your life. They managed to stabilize you, now it was just a waiting game as to when you would wake up. Wanda would visit you everyday, barely being able to leave your side. Steve managed to convince her that she needed to rest, saying that you wouldn’t want to see her neglecting her needs. She hesitantly complied, and finally went to her room to sleep for the night.

The next morning, the news started reporting the incident.

And of course they blamed her.

Logically, Wanda knew this wasn’t entirely her fault. Rumlow was the one who turned himself into a bomb. She was just trying to save the lives below. That thought brought her little comfort though.

She was still responsible for the lives lost in that building. She was still responsible for you, the love of her life, being severely injured and in a coma.

Maybe they were right.

Steve didn’t let her wallow in that thought for too long though, because he shut the TV off. He sat down and gave her one of his hope speeches, and she appreciated the effort, but she didn’t want to hear it.

“It’s my fault.” She whispered. “All of those people, dead because of me...and Y/n...” She trailed off, tears forming in her eyes. Steve placed a hand on her leg, trying to comfort her.

“You know...she doesn’t blame you, I know she doesn’t.”

“Maybe she should...they all should.”

Steve couldn’t get anything else out, as Vision phased in the room and told them of the arrival of Secretary Ross.

As if things couldn’t get any worse, he had told them about the Sokovia Accords. Wanda hated the idea, forcing heroes to register with the government, essentially making them puppets for them. She knew you would hate it too, you never were one to trust the government.

“Look, we understand where you’re coming from, but if it weren’t for us, there’d be a lot more blood spilled.” Sam argued.

“Tell that to the innocent civilians in that Lagos hospital building.” Ross argued back. “Oh wait, you can’t.”

“If it weren’t for Wanda, hundreds of people in the streets below would have been killed.” Steve cut in. “If it weren’t for Y/n, hundreds of more people would have been in that building.”

“And look where that landed her.”

Wanda had enough. She shot up from her chair, and stormed out of the room.

She went straight to your hospital room, your still unconscious body covered in bandages. She pulled up a chair beside your bed, hand going to grip yours. She tried to speak, but couldn’t bring herself to form the words. So she just rested her head on your joined hands and cried.

The next few weeks saw the Avengers falling apart, divided over the accords. Wanda was especially disappointed in Natasha’s decision, given that you two were best friends.

Wanda hasn’t left the compound. Most of her time was spent visiting you and sleeping as best she could. Your burns had begun healing, but barely. They still left pretty nasty scars. Your breathing had improved, which satisfied the doctors. They had said you could wake up any moment now, Wanda just hoped it was soon.

The next day, Wanda walked into the kitchen to find Vision cooking. She found that odd, since she knew he didn’t eat, but he explained that he was making it for her. You used to cook for her a lot, and after a few disasters, you finally got the recipe down. Vision’s was no where near as good as yours, but she appreciates the effort.

After a conversation about their powers and their fear of them, Wanda volunteered to go to the store to pick up some paprika that would greatly help the dish. Vision stopped her.

“Vision...are you not letting me leave?”

“It’s a matter of safety.”

“I can handle myself.”

Vision stopped her again. “Not yours. Mr. Stark would like to avoid the possibility of another public incident.”

Wanda looked at the synthezoid in disbelief. “I’m not an out of control time bomb. It was an accident.”

“I know. I do, but...you powers are very unpredictable. You are also...vulnerable. My scanners have indicated you are, how you say, ‘on edge’. You have been ever since Miss L/n was admitted in the medical wing.”

Wanda’s gaze turned into a harsh glare. “I know that human emotion is a foreign concept to you Vision, but trust me, if your girlfriend was ever put in a coma because of you...being ‘on edge’ is the least you would be.”

Without waiting for a response, Wanda turned around and stormed off. She headed to the one place that her feet often dragged her to the last weeks. Your bedside.

She sat and took a hold of your hand. She stared at you for a moment before she spoke. “Hey, baby. Things have been...hard without you to say the least. Not that this wouldn’t be hard anyway, but everything is falling apart. These stupid accords are ruining everything. Tony has become a government pet, Nat joining him, Steve is off doing who knows what, and now...I’m locked in.” She paused. “You know, as much as I wish more than anything that you were awake and by my side right now...part of me is glad that you wouldn’t have to see your family fall apart like this. It’d break your heart...” She stayed for a few more moments, staring at your face and taking in your features once again. She then leaned down to kiss your hand. “I love you.” With that, she left.

Later that night, Wanda was back in the main room of the compound. You still haven’t woken up, she just learned she was essentially on house arrest, so she was trying to find ways to find ways to distract herself. She was reading a book, when she heard a loud explosion go off outside. She walked over to the window to take a look, Vision joining her a few moments later.

“What is it?”

“Stay here please.”

Wanda was left alone for a moment, before she felt a presence behind her. She quickly grabbed hold of the knife on the table, and flinging it towards the new presence. She halted it when she saw who it was.

Clint.

The next few minutes passed by like a blur. Clint was convincing her to come help Steve, Vision came back in but was trapped, Wanda hesitated and Clint gave her one of those hope speeches. She was about to decline, before he said one last thing.

“You know, if Y/n was awake...I know she’d side with Steve, and she’d only hope you’d do the same.”

Was it manipulative? Possibly, but he was also right. You would have sided with Steve, no question. Doing what you could to help. She thought on it for a few more moments, before she nodded. They were about to leave before Vision broke free. The two men fought, and before she knew it, she was sending the synthezoid several floors down and into the ground.

She went to her room, quickly packing her suit and anything else she thought she would need. She went back out to meet Clint, about to leave, but she stopped.

“Wait! I gotta see Y/n first.”

Clint sighed, but knew he couldn’t deny her of this. “Alright, make it quick.”

She booked it to your hospital room. You were lying there, same as you have been for a while. She quickly surged forward grabbed your hand, not bothering to sit. She knew they didn’t have time.

“Alright, baby. I’m gonna go out for a bit, okay? I’m not sure when I’ll be back, but...I’m going to do what’s right. I’m going to fight. I finally ‘got off my ass’ as you would say.” She chuckled, but it held no real joy behind it. “I just hope you’d be proud of me...and I just hope that I can come back to see you-”

Wanda cut herself off when she felt you begin to move. All of a sudden your face shifted, and you began to turn your head.

“Y/n?...”

You began to open your eyes slowly, head slowly lifting off your pillow. Your eyes looked around, trying to adjust to the brightness of the room. Before you could even look at Wanda though, you began coughing.

Wanda rushed to poor you a glass of water, knowing your mouth would be dry from not using it for a while. She handed it to you, quickly, and you slowly raised your hand to take it. As you began to drink, Wanda couldn’t help but smile. You were finally awake. She was beyond relieved. She was put in a rough spot now, she knew she had to meet Clint so they could go, but...you were finally awake. She couldn’t leave you.

“Wanda, we gotta go!” She heard Clint yell, and without tearing her eyes away from you, she yelled back.

“In a minute! Y/n just woke up!”

She didn’t hear a response from the man, but she heard footsteps quickly making its way towards your room.

You finished drinking your water and placed the cup on the bedside table. You began to try to sit up, but Wanda rushed to your side to help.

“Here you go, easy.”

When you fully sat up, you took in the appearance of the woman next to you. You smiled. “Thank you.”

“Of course.” She breathed out. You looked her in the eyes, smile still on both your faces. But, Wanda’s smile dropped instantly at the next words that came out of your mouth.

“Sorry, hi, I’m Y/n. You probably already knew that though.” You chuckled nervously. “Are you one of the nurses?”

Wanda froze. No. This couldn’t be happening. The doctors told her that Amnesia was a possibility since you hit your head on impact from the blast, but it never seemed like a real threat. She stared at you, jaw slacked for a few more moments.

“Um, hello?...Oh! Are you my doctor? Sorry, I didn’t mean to assume.”

Wanda snapped out of it when she felt a hand on her shoulder. She turned her head to see it was Clint. You spoke up again before she could say anything though.

“Oh, hey, are you a nurse? Or doctor?”

Realization filled Clint’s face, but he held it together. He simply shook his head.

“Oh...so, is someone supposed to help me or...?” You trailed off.

Clint looked to Wanda, who was still in shock, tears beginning to form in her eyes. He knew he had to take over, get them out as soon as possible. “Sorry, Y/n. We’ll get your nurse to come and check on you. Glad to see you’re awake.” Before you could respond, he quickly rushed out of the room, pulling Wanda with him.

Wanda finally let herself break down, and cried in the van. She barely had time to process everything before they picked up a man name Scott and flew to the airport to meet Steve.

Steve broke down the plan and the team went separate ways to suit up and get in position. Except Wanda. Steve was about to go get himself ready, but paused when he saw the witch frozen in place.

“Wanda? You okay?” Wanda simply shook her head and looked up at him, he could see the tears in her eyes. “What happened?”

“Y/n woke up.”

Steve raised his eyebrows in shock. “She did? That’s great-” He was cut off when Wanda let out a sob. He then put two and two together, something was wrong. “...What was it?”

“She...doesn’t remember anything...doesn’t remember me...”

Steve sighed. He was saddened by the news as well, you and him were very close, both being super soldiers and all. He couldn’t even imagine what Wanda was going through in this moment though, so he put on a brave face. He went over to the witch and wrapped an arm around her. “Y/n is strong...when this is over, we’ll go see her and start-” Steve was cut off again when Wanda shook her head.

“Steve...you and I both know this isn’t gonna end with us just being able to go back...” She looked up at him. He was about to speak up again, when he heard Sam in his ear.

“Cap, Tony and Rhodey are flying in now. You good to go?”

Steve looked to Wanda, knowing she heard him too since they all had coms. She nodded. “On my way.” He turned to leave, before giving Wanda one last look. “Whatever happens, it’ll be okay.”

It wasn’t.

The fight at the airport was beyond tiresome, and they lost. Steve and Bucky got away to handle the other Winter Soldiers, but the rest of the team was captured.

So now here she was, sitting in a cell in a high security prison in the middle of the ocean...with a straight jacket and shock collar on. Wanda couldn’t even be upset about it. She was numb. She’s already lost everything she possibly could. Her parents, her brother, her country, and now...you. She couldn’t bring herself to care whether or not she wasted away in this cell. Maybe she deserved to.

But of course, she couldn’t even have that for long, as Steve broke them out a few days later.

Up on the quinjet with Steve and the rest of the team, she sat alone, staring out the window watching the dark clouds pass by. After a few moments, she felt a presence next to her. She looked over to see who it was. Natasha.

“What are you doing here?” Wanda asked, looking back out the window.

“It’s a long story.” She answered. “Steve told me what happened, I...I’m not even sure what to say. I am so sorry Wanda.” Wanda merely nodded, not trusting her voice right now. Natasha took a deep breath and continued. “Y’know...I can pull some strings, the ones I have left anyway. Get Y/n relocated to be with us. I know she doesn’t remember anything right now, but-”

“No.” Wanda cut her off, surprising the redhead.

“Wha...what do you mean ‘no’?”

Wanda had thought about it, she’s thought about it the entire time she was in the Raft. She would love nothing more than to see you again, to hold you and help you on your recovery, but...she couldn’t. She was a wanted fugitive now, and you were only in this predicament because of her...she had to be selfless here. She couldn’t bring you into this life, not when you were missing chunks of your own.

“I mean no.” She said, looking up into Natasha’s eyes, tears pooling in her own. “She’s better off.”

And with that, Wanda got up, walking towards the back of the jet to be alone. She took a deep breath, and prepared herself. Preparing herself for a new life as a fugitive on the run. And most importantly...

Preparing for a life without you.

#wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you

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hangovercurse · 4 years

Text

Teeny Tiny Secret

After months of trying, you and Colson finally get those two pink lines… the day before tour starts.

Request: “I know that requests are closed, but I HAD to share this before it left my mind. When you have an opportunity, could you please write a story where y/n is in super early (not showing or anything) stages of pregnancy and on tour with mgk. She & Colson make a plan to keep it from the bandmates for now. It becomes difficult when he becomes super over protective (not letting her carry anything, not wanting the guys to crowd her), unconsciously put his hand on her stomach, and ordering non-alcoholic drinks for her. The band suspects something. Y/n talks with him to try to get him to calm down a little. It works until the guys ask you both about it directly and Colson's the first to crack.”

Colson Baker x Reader

Warnings: Cursing

A/N: Y’all are all up in that spring baby fever… this is like my 3rd or 4th baby request recently

Word Count: 2211

You and Colson had been talking about having a second kid for months but stopped trying a few weeks before tour started. You didn’t think it had worked until you woke up three days before tour and rushed to the bathroom, morning sickness wrecking your body. Colson felt you getting out of bed and followed a few minutes later, tiredly. When he found you hunched over the toilet, his whole demeaner changed.

You knew for sure the day before tour, after multiple pregnancy tests you had gone to see an OBGYN for confirmation. Sure enough, you were pregnant. The universe sure knew the definition of ironic timing.

Colson’s immediate reaction was to have you stay home. “All the traveling and partying isn’t gonna be good for him.” He said, pacing around your bedroom while you laid on the bed. “Tour life is not good for babies.”

You raised your eyebrow, “him? It’s been one day and you’re already setting unrealistic expectations for our unborn child.” You joked, a small smile on your lips.

Colson’s mouth gaped before he continued, “Y/N, we need to be serious about this. You can’t come on tour if you’re pregnant.”

You rolled your eyes, “Colson, I am not letting you leave me here while I am pregnant. I’ll be fine. I won’t drink and I’ll take it easy. You just have to make sure the guys don’t smoke around me and we’ll be fine.”

His eyes went wide. “Shit, the boys.” He paused to think as confusion crossed you. “If the boys find out about this they’ll freak out and then the whole tour is gonna be a shit show.”

It was kind of funny how much more worried he was than you were. “Babe, come here.” You motioned for him to come sit in the bed with you to which he complied. You leaned your back against the headboard, expecting him to follow. Instead, he laid so his head was next to your stomach. He pressed a small kiss into it, making your heart fluttered, the reality of the situation hitting you and making you insanely happy. “Why are you so worried?” You asked him softly, combing your hand through his hair.

He reached, moving your shirt up so he could kiss your bare stomach. He mumbled against your skin, “I think I wanna keep this a secret for now.” You hummed and he continued, “just for us, y’know? I wanna enjoy this.”

You nodded, “I’m still coming on tour with you, though. I don’t wanna be alone right now.”

He smiled against your stomach, finally moving up to sit next to you, pulling you towards him for a soft kiss. His hand went to your stomach, rubbing circles into the skin. “I can’t believe we’re gonna have a fucking baby.”

You smiled against his lips, a thought popping into your head, “can we tell Casie at least?” His eyes lit up at your suggestion, a quick nod of his head affirming the idea.

The next day was hectic, as all first days were. You had gotten a list of everything you could and couldn’t do from your doctor, and the all-clear to fly for the first trimester. So, you and Colson found yourself with the crew at LAX airport bright and early in the morning. Ashleigh passed you an itinerary, letting you know that you would all be meeting the bus in Cleveland, where the first show was.

Colson’s arm hadn’t left your waist since you got to the airport, holding you to his side all morning. Occasionally you could feel his thumb rubbing circles near your stomach, something that was definitely becoming a habit of his. At one point he ended up standing behind you, hands resting on your stomach as he held you against him. You tried not to give anything away, but you found it adorable how excited he was. He wanted to be as close to the unborn baby as possible at all times, his hands constantly near your middle.

Eventually you arrived in Cleveland, walking down the long hallway to the baggage claim, taking in the small Cleveland hall of fame that the airport had created. You spotted your suitcase and went to grab it, but Colson beat you to it. “I got it, babe.” He gave you a look that let you know you wouldn’t be carrying anything.

You sighed, “I can get it Colson.” He shrugged, grabbing his bag off of the carousel next. The man now had a large duffel bag slung over his shoulder and two suitcases in his hands. “Seriously, it’s not that heavy.”

He shook his head, “I’m not letting you carry anything heavy. I can do it.” You sighed but let him, knowing you wouldn’t win this battle.

Unbeknownst to you, Baze had seen the whole interaction and was very confused.

Later, once you had arrived at the arena, you were hanging in the dressing room with Slim and Irv on the couch. You guys weren’t really talking about anything in particular, mostly just cracking jokes about Rook’s outfit for the night.

When the younger boy heard Slim say he looked like “if Willow Smith and Gerard Way were put into a blender,” he came over, blunt in his hand.

Rook started jokingly arguing with Slim and you were all laughing at his distress. In the middle of their argument, however, Colson came over and grabbed the blunt out of Rook’s hand. He put it out in an ashtray before returning to you, squeezing himself between you and Irv.

Everyone, including you, stared at him, dumfounded. “Dude why the fuck-“ Rook started, only for Colson to cut him off.

“You shouldn’t smoke in here.” He shrugged, arms wrapping around you. He squeezed your waist, letting you know why he really did it. You were somewhat thankful; smoke was bad for the baby. But there are less obvious ways to have gone about that.

Rook grumbled but didn’t attempt to light another one. Slim looked at you, an eyebrow raised in question. You shrugged your shoulders, pretending to act innocently naïve to Colson’s behaviors.

Eventually the three boys travelled from the couch, leaving you and Colson alone. “Babe, you gotta try and be a little more subtle about that shit.” You mumbled, turning to face him.

He scrunched his eyebrows, “he shouldn’t be smoking around you. What else was I supposed to do?”

You sighed, “I don’t know, but that wasn’t subtle. If you keep treating me differently, they’re gonna figure out that something’s up.”

Colson lets out a breath through his nose, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “I’m sorry, I just don’t want anything to happen to…” he trailed off, trying to keep a low profile.

“I know you’re just being careful. It’s sweet, and I really appreciate it. But either we tell the guys what’s going on or we figure out how to be more subtle.” You thought you guys were being quiet, but once again Baze was standing just within earshot, hearing your entire conversation.

Colson demanded you stay backstage instead of in front of the gates like normal tours. “I don’t care if they think something’s up, you are not getting anywhere near that crowd.”

This was something you could actually agree on, not wanting any crazy fangirls to try and reach over the barricade and hurt you by accident (it had happened before). So, you were stood backstage before the concert, like normal, only this time you had a spot next to the stage picked out just for you to watch. Colson came over to you, jumping up and down in excitement.

You giggled at his happy demeanor, feeding off his energy. “Good luck kiss?” You offered to which he happily nodded. You pulled him in by his shoulders, intending to give him a soft kiss. Colson being Colson, however, decided that this was the perfect time for an extremely heated make out session.

You didn’t complain much as his hands explored your waist, paying special attention to your stomach, where a small bump would soon be forming. His lips against yours were heaven.

“Okay loverboy!” Ashleigh called, making him pull away from your lips but he kept himself close to you. “You’re on.”

He nodded towards her, giving you one last peck before running off to the stage. Before he left, his hands lingered on your stomach just a little longer than normal, his eyes glancing down to it for a split second.

Then you watched the love of your life run towards the stage, a grin on his face. “I love you!” You called. He turned to you right before he got on stage and mouthed the words back to you, knowing you couldn’t hear him anymore. You smiled, the sight of him living his dream making your heart melt.

Slim was on the side of the stage closest to you, and had caught the last moments of your intimacy, including Colson’s attention to your stomach. He perked and eyebrow at the sight but shook it off as Colson being into some weird new thing.

After the show, everyone was hyped up on adrenaline and alcohol. The crew decided to move the party to a nearby club. Colson wanted to take you back to the bus and stay there with you all night, but you made him go. “Colson, I have been in this condition for all of 3 days. I am fine. You just finished the first show of your tour. We,” you pointed between the two of you, “are going out to celebrate, even if that means I can only drink water or pop.”

He rolled his eyes but gave in, letting you drag him down the street towards the rest of your friends. When you got to the club, you grabbed a table with Ash, Irv, Baze, and Slim while Colson took Rook to get drinks for everyone.

When the pair got back, they started handing out drinks. Colson set a glass of water in front of you, causing the group to raise eyebrows at you two, which you just shrugged off, sipping the water. As much as you would have loved to get wasted with your friends, you knew it would hurt the baby. You tried to act as nonchalant about it as possible, realizing that it was gonna be hard to hide your secret if you got water every time you went out.

This was going to be a long 9 months.

“I wanna dance.” Ashleigh said, grabbing Irv and Rook and dragging them to the floor. You grinned, about to stand up and join them when you felt a hand on your thigh. You turned towards Colson, who was currently stopping you from having fun, giving him a glare.

He shook his head slightly at you, leaning close to you to whisper in your ear. “There’s a lot of people here, I don’t want you to get hurt.”

You sighed and rolled your eyes, whispering back, “can you ease up a little bit, please? I’ll be careful. I want to have a little fun before I’m not able to move at all.”

His face was stern, the two of you having a silent argument with your eyes. You pleaded with him, trying to get him to crack but he just shook his head.

Meanwhile Baze and Slim watched you two, trying to figure out how the hell you were communicating without actually talking. “Is everything okay with you two?” Slim asked, pulling your attention to the two men.

You nodded, smiling, “yeah, we’re great.”

Baze cocked his head, “you sure? Because he’s” he pointed at Colson, “acting like you’re pregnant or something.”

You felt Colson’s hand on your thigh tighten, his entire body stiffening. You giggled, trying to play off the comment. Baze started laughing the moment he saw Colson’s expression, which you turned to see was like a deer caught in headlights. Slim’s eyes went wide, “holy shit, for real? Congrats guys!”

You laughed, rubbing Colson’s shoulder, “good job, babe. You did a great job at keeping this between us.”

He looked down at you with a sheepish expression, “sorry, I thought we were being subtle.” He mumbled and you laughed.

“Cols, I was being subtle. You were acting like I was gonna die if someone so much as touched me.” Slim and Baze chuckled at this, and you turned to explain. “We found out for sure yesterday and didn’t want anyone to get freaked out or throw off the tour or anything. So, Colson here,” your head nodded towards your boyfriend, “thought we could keep it a secret for now.”

He frowned, his friends still laughing at him. “Dude, you are the worst secret keeper ever, man.” Baze said. “It took one push and you cracked.” You giggled, nodding your head in agreement. “But seriously, congrats guys.”

“Thanks, B.” You said, “but listen, both of you. If anyone on this tour tells me what I can and can’t do because I’m pregnant, I’ll cut their dick off.” The two boys nodded in understanding.

“Am I really that bad at keeping secrets?” Colson asked, still upset that he spilled.

You giggled and nodded, “Yeah, darling. You are.”

#mgk #mgk imagine #mgk fluff #machine gun kelly #machine gun kelly imagine #Colson baker #colson x reader #colson baker imagine #colson baker fluff #colson imagine

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gureishi · 3 years

Text

gold rush

✧ — Summary: A chance encounter at the bar where you work. But is anything ever really a coincidence?

✧ — Pairing: Saeyoung x Reader

✧ — Rating: T (light cursing, bar setting)

✧ — A/N: This is probably as close as I’ll get to writing an AU. The way the characters are meeting is a little bit different, but we all know where they’re going to end up. This fic is set two weeks before the start of Deep Story.

chapter one

It was the beginning of a summer sunset—all reds and pinks and white hot light streaming through the windows and making you dizzy—when you saw him.

You didn’t believe in love at first sight or even fortuitous encounters. You thought coincidences were nothing more than accidents and miracles were just funny little bursts of brain chemicals.

And you weren’t interested in meeting anyone new. Your feet ached and your eyes felt heavy; you wanted an ice cold beer or a hot shower or maybe just a nap. But time twisted that day: worlds collided and the sun shone extra bright and your weary mind lit up in a way you’d never be able to explain.

You were standing by the bar when it happened. You had a faded blue rag in your hand, with which you were halfheartedly polishing a wine glass. The bartender (a friend, sort of) was telling you a story and you were gazing longingly at the door. A few more hours, you thought, until you’d leave—till you’d walk down the street with its overflowing trash cans and broken sidewalk, around the corner with its group of old men blaring music through their speakers, and home.

And as you stared at the door, it swung open—almost as if you’d compelled it with your yearning. You sighed and looked down at the wine glass in your hand, because it was slow today and on slow days, customers always wanted to talk.

You didn’t want to talk to anyone. You had no patience for conversation about the heat or somebody’s kids or their upcoming vacation. You wanted to lie on the floor of your bedroom in your underwear and stare at the ceiling fan till you stopped thinking about anything at all.

“Hey,” the bartender said (and her voice was a little too loud, like always, but you put on your best listening face for her). “Look at him.”

You didn’t roll your eyes, though you wanted to. She was younger than you and still found everything interesting—and ultimately you appreciated that about her. Instead, you tilted your head and peered through your lashes at the man by the door.

Ah, you thought (wildly, without knowing why). There he is.

He looked like the sort of person who never quite belonged.

He stood a little bit stiffly, his hands in his pockets—and then he waved at one of your coworkers and smiled, and all at once he seemed to fit in, after all. You didn’t know what to make of it.

“Cute,” the bartender whispered (standing on tiptoe to lean over the bar). “Don’t you think?”

“Oh,” you said, keeping your voice level. “Is he?”

You were a terrible liar. Your skin was screaming and your heart was racing; you felt as though you’d had the wind knocked out of you. The man strode casually across the bar and slid into a chair at one of the high-top tables, and you studied him. The bartender had called him cute, and your unsteady heart seemed to agree—but you weren’t even sure if it was true.

He wasn’t necessarily traditionally attractive. He was neither tall nor well-dressed: he wore jeans and a t-shirt that were both several sizes too big for him, and he had oversized headphones dangling around his neck.

But his hair was a striking shade of red that you’d never seen before—it made you think fleetingly of childhood days playing under a sizzling sun and the sweet taste of lemonade. He wore glasses that suited his soft features, and behind them his eyes were startlingly gold. He looked up and your thoughts scrambled; you felt, for a moment, like you were swimming through thick liquid.

The bartender sighed, stirring your strange vortex of feelings.

“He sat at a table,” she said. “So he’s yours, not mine.”

Yours, huh? You felt vaguely nauseous.

Without a word, you grabbed a big bottle of water from the bin by the bar. Something seemed to have shifted inside you: it was the feeling of seeing the bus pull up when you’ve waited forever—the feeling of an eternity of biding your time coming to an end.

You had no idea why you felt that way.

You paused to check on a couple sitting in a booth as you made your way across the bar, but they didn’t spare you so much as a glance; they were staring silently into each other’s eyes, hands clasped on top of the table. And the man in the corner wasn’t looking at you—he was typing something on his phone, fingers moving so fast you swore they were blurry.

“Hey,” you said when you reached him. His fingers didn’t stop moving when he looked up at you—but your eyes met, and he smiled.

“Hi,” he replied (still typing). His voice was not at all what you’d expected: much brighter and more musical. He cocked his head to the side as though he were drinking you in, and you had the eerie sensation that he was reading your mind.

“Been here before?” you asked (knowing he hadn’t). He set his phone down and drummed his fingers against the table like he couldn’t quite sit still.

“Yeah,” he said. “You don’t remember me?”

Liar, you thought. You took in his earnest expression: trust me eyes and a proud sort of smile. He wanted you to play along.

“Right,” you said, hands on your hips. “Didn’t I kick you out of here before?”

His eyes widened: a remarkable imitation of innocence.

“Me?” he trilled, sounding only mildly curious. “Impossible.”

A lock of his hair fell over his forehead and you felt a fleeting urge to brush it away.

“I could do it again,” you said instead, raising your eyebrows. He looked you up and down (the back of your neck burned), and then he grinned.

“You win!” he exclaimed, bouncing in his seat. It was weird, you thought, that he was so excited not to have fooled you—but there was something about his almost childlike exuberance that made you feel pleasantly squirmy.

“Obviously,” you said. “I wouldn’t have forgotten you.”

You hadn’t meant to be so honest, but the words slipped out on their own—and you watched, horrified and delighted, as he flushed a funny shade of fuchsia.

“Really?” he asked, giggling (actually giggling). “Me, specifically?”

It would have been easy to say something biting, but you found that you didn’t want to.

“You, specifically,” you said.

And for an instant, his boldness seemed to slip away: his eyes softened and his hands stilled, and you saw another person entirely. It was someone somber and small—someone who’d been waiting to be told you, specifically for a very long time.

Your heart contracted.

Oh, you thought. Me too.

But the moment had already passed. He was grinning again, his eyes glittering. He winked roguishly, leaning forward.

“Whatever you say, babe.”

Oh, what was happening to you?

You glanced around the room: two other tables seemed to have materialized while you were talking to him. In a voice you hoped was level, you asked him what he wanted (just a soda), and then you slipped away to greet the new groups of people. In your peripheral vision, you saw him pulling a laptop out of his bag.

The sun had mostly set by the time you made it back to the bar. You could hear him in the corner, typing away.

The bartender caught your eye and beamed.

“What was that?”

You tried to avoid her gaze.

“What was what?” You put the drinks on a tray.

She rolled her eyes dramatically as though she thought you were being incredibly difficult (and perhaps you were).

“You,” she said, laughing away your attempted ignorance. “Leaning all over the table and making puppy dog eyes.”

“I didn’t do that.” Did you?

“I felt like a real voyeur, watching you just now,” she said. She tossed her hair and you knew that she was teasing, but you still felt a little bit anxious. There was clearly something wrong with you.

“I hope you enjoyed it,” you told her drily. She waved you away; the ice was already melting in the drinks—and her laughter mingled with the sound of muted pop music drumming over the speakers as you strode back into the bustle of the bar.

You dropped drinks at your new tables first, and then you checked in on the couple in the booth (they were making out now, her legs in his lap). You knew that you were stalling.

But you didn’t trust yourself to go back to his table: you didn’t know what you’d do or say. It had been a long, hot summer—a long, dreary year. These days, nothing made you nervous—but the redhead typing furiously in the corner knocked you off balance.

When there was truly nothing left to do but return to him, you made your way across the room (too fast; too slow). You arrived at his side and your heart fluttered. His eyes were trained on his screen.

“I’m back,” you said, and your voice came out perky and loud. He looked up, then, his eyes taking a moment to refocus. Whatever he was doing, it seemed to require a lot of concentration.

Curious, you tried to peek at his screen, but he’d angled it so you couldn’t see. You wondered if he’d done that on purpose.

“Thank god,” he said, grinning crookedly. “I was lost without you.”

You set the glass, which was wet with condensation, on the slightly sticky wooden table. You should’ve brought a napkin or something.

“Are you sure you don’t want something stronger?” you asked, arching your eyebrows. You didn’t say the next part—why come to a bar just to drink Dr. Pepper?—but his smile widened, and for the second time you got the sense that he knew just what you were thinking.

“I don’t drink alcohol,” he said, flicking the wrapper off the straw and taking a sip. He drank soda, you thought, the way college kids drank liquor: hungrily. “You wanna know why I’m here,” he added. His eyes were piercing.

You gestured at his laptop (wondering what sort of program he could possibly be running to make it hum like that).

“I could take a wild guess and say that you’re working.”

He laughed.

“You get me.”

“What are you working on?” Again, you tried to peek at his computer; this time he shut it with a firm snap. Then he leaned in conspiratorially, his eyes twinkling.

“If I told you,” he whispered in a voice that dripped with provocation, “then I’d have to kill you.”

God. You should have expected no less. You rolled your eyes and crossed your arms; the Bond act did nothing for you.

“Sure,” you muttered. “That’s what they all say.”

He paused, taking in your defensive posture—and then he burst out laughing. You'd gone from charmed to annoyed in a heartbeat—and now the ringing sound of his laugher was melting the tension from your shoulders. You weren’t sure what to make of it.

“Do you, uh…” he stammered breathlessly, running a hand through his disheveled hair. “Do you get that a lot?”

“It’s a vibe,” you told him. “Guys who think they’re cooler and more interesting than they really are.” Oh, you didn’t mean to antagonize him—but something about the way he was looking at you egged you on. He rested his chin on his hand and you couldn’t help noticing the thin white scars that dappled his fingers. Huh.

“So you think I think I think I’m interesting?” He was looking in your eyes again. Your knees felt weak.

“I think I…have other tables,” you said. And it was true: it was fully dark out now, and people were trickling in, looking around expectantly for someone to pay attention to them. You needed a break from him or you’d drown (oh, but there was a part of you that wanted to pull up a chair and stare at him till he looked away).

“I’m not going anywhere,” he said. You couldn’t put your finger on why, but it sounded like a challenge.

You smiled because you didn’t know what to say. Talking to him was like skating on the surface of a pond that had just iced over: thrilling and precarious. You darted away (and by the time you’d made it to the other side of the bar, his eyes were back on his screen). It was louder in here now; you couldn’t hear him typing anymore.

You quickly checked on the couple in the corner (still ignoring you) and then greeted two large groups of people around your own age. One was friendly and probably already drunk (they ordered a round of shots); the other was stiff and rude. You suppressed a sigh as all eight of them ordered drinks that weren’t on the menu; as soon as they’d sent you away, they called you back to make several changes (because people like that always did).

Martini with a twist, not a gin fizz, you chanted in your mind as you shimmied through the crowd of people who’d gathered around the bar. Your mind was tired and hazy (and the man in the corner wasn’t helping; all your nerves seemed to be firing randomly, making your skin feel too tight).

You typed the order into the POS, trying to ignore the redhead in your peripheral vision; his table was just an arm’s length away. The bar was getting noisier now, and the familiar cacophony of music and voices soothed you and made you sleepy.

And then, in the midst of the sea of sounds: “Hey.”

You felt his eyes on you at the same time you heard his voice. You turned to see him watching you, your heart doing a little dance behind your ribs.

“What’s up?”

He smiled lazily and rested his chin on his hands.

“Don’t forget the martini,” he said.

For a moment, you stared at him—and then it dawned on you. Martini with a twist, not a gin fizz. You’d definitely just put the order in wrong.

“How’d you know that?” you asked, eyeing him suspiciously. His face gave nothing away.

“How’d I know the order, or how’d I know you’d forget it?”

“Either,” you said (giving in, leaning on his table). “Both.”

“I’m a good listener.” His grin was too big (almost wicked): he was enjoying this. “I’m a good watcher, too.”

And that did seem to be the case. His penetrating eyes seemed to take in everything: a whisper of someone’s hair against their skin; a brush of fingertips beneath a table. You wondered what exactly he saw when he looked at you; you wondered what he’d say if you asked.

“Thanks,” you said. “Can you just hang out here all night and do my thinking for me?”

“I wish,” he muttered, sounding a little bit awkward. You got the sense that he meant it. You were starting to form a response when the bartender caught your eye—and you sighed, remembering that you needed to intercept her before she made the wrong drink.

“I’ve gotta—”

“Go,” he said.

You slipped from his side back into the crowd, but your thoughts seemed to have gotten stuck. You heard his voice in your mind as you spoke to the bartender; you imagined he was watching you as you ran some drinks (but you checked, and his eyes were glued to his screen).

The friendly drunk girls called you over and convinced you to do a shot with them (which wasn’t really allowed, but nobody followed that particular rule). The rude table complained that the music was too loud and the AC was too high. The couple in the booth finally asked for their bill.

Time—too much time—passed before you found yourself free again. You paid out the clingy couple and turned to face the dimly lit room, and your heart skipped a beat.

Your redhead was standing, tapping his fingers idly against the table.

“You’re leaving?” You darted to his side, relieved you’d caught him—anxious that he’d almost left without saying goodbye. “You gonna disappear into the night and never return or something?”

He grinned, but his cheeks were pink. He picked up on your sincerity whether you wanted him to or not.

“I’m going to the other side of the universe,” he said. He was slinging his bag over his shoulder, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. He’d left a wad of cash on the table (it looked like way too much). “If I don’t get lost in space, I’ll be back for you.”

The bottoms of your feet tingled. It felt strangely intimate to be standing face-to-face like this.

“What’s your name?” you asked. “So I don’t forget you this time.” You winked, because you wanted him to think you meant it lightly—but something dark passed across his expression anyway. That scared him, you thought. He’s afraid of being—

But he was already smiling wider; the moment of solemnity was gone before you could acknowledge it.

“If I told you,” he said, “I’d have to—”

“I’m leaving!” you declared, turning away from him with as much flair as you could muster. He cackled, and then his hand shot out and closed around your wrist.

Time had been moving in strange swirls and eddies all night; now, it stopped altogether.

“Oh,” he said. “Uh.”

His hand fell as you turned to face him. He hadn’t meant to touch you, you thought: he’d done it impulsively, instinctively—and something had snapped. A line had been crossed. His face was very red.

“Seven,” he said, his voice sounding hoarse and weak, like he’d just been burned. “You can call me Seven.”

“Like the number?”

“Yeah,” he muttered. “That way every time you count you’ll remember who I am.”

You would’ve rolled your eyes if anyone else had said something like that to you—but he stood so awkwardly and spoke so earnestly that you thought he might actually have meant it.

“I count a lot,” you told him. “I hope you’re prepared to be on my mind at least once an hour.”

He smiled and leaned forward and for a single, wild moment you thought he was going to kiss you.

Instead, he whispered in your ear. His breath gave you goosebumps.

“You’re the one who should be prepared,” he said. “Once I’m in your mind, you won’t be able to get rid of me.”

Before you could respond, he’d pulled back; he was retreating, lifting a hand and giving you an energetic wave.

“Bye, then,” he trilled. And then he said your name.

You were quite sure you’d never mentioned it.

“Oh—” you started to say—but the door chimed, and he was gone.

It was over.

Rocking back on your heels, you looked wearily around the bar. Everything was normal: the chattering of people and the beat of a song that had already played three times that night. It was almost as if nothing had happened.

But you couldn’t forget.

You went through the motions, because you had to: you spoke to people and brought drinks and cleared tables and thought about bright golden eyes. More people gathered around the bar, but the tables cleared out quickly—and you dutifully wiped them down and blew out all the little candles and imagined you were anywhere but there. You counted money with stiff fingers and collected your cash tips and bid goodbye to the bartender and wondered if it was still hot out.

It turned out that it was.

You nudged open the door with your hip and the heat hit you like the big, dangerous ocean waves you’d only ever seen in pictures. It was late (early, even) and the street was nearly empty; another bar across the street buzzed vaguely and the air shimmered with late night summer wetness. Wishing you were already home, you ran a sticky hand through your hair and turned the corner onto a street that you knew was always empty.

Except it wasn’t.

Someone was there.

Oh, you thought (frantically, irrationally). It’s him.

You could barely make out the figure in the darkness, but he was the same general shape as your mysterious redhead. He was the right height, and his hair was wild, and—

Your heart raced. Had he waited for you after all?

But then the figure stepped forward and the streetlight shone in his eyes. They were the color of a clear sea after a storm.

You cursed yourself for hoping; you felt as though you’d been sucked dry. The stranger looked just enough like your redhead, but also altogether different: his hair was bright white and he stood perfectly still, like a predator lurking in the shadows.

And for no good reason, you had the sense that you were meant to be the prey.

The man smiled—almost a smile, one corner of his lips quirking upward. You wanted to say something (what?), but he was already turning away. He walked slowly, like he wasn’t in any hurry—but two steps were enough: he disappeared into the darkness on the other side of the streetlamp.

You were left alone with the tingling in your toes and the feeling that you had been caught.

A coincidence, you told yourself firmly (but you retraced your steps, deciding it would be safest to take another route home). Or maybe just my imagination.

You turned onto your block and unlocked the front door to your building and squinted against the fluorescent lighting. The people around you, you thought, believed in fate and miracles because these things made them feel better about their otherwise ordinary lives. But you didn’t agree: time marched endlessly forward, and there was nothing to be done about it.

Oh, and yet—

You pushed open the door to your apartment (dark and hot as always), kicking off your shoes and fumbling for the light. You knew better than to believe in the things that made your friends pretend that life was softer and sparklier than it really was. You did.

But the air tasted different now. You knew it—irrevocably, inexplicably—whether you wanted to believe it or not.

Tonight, around sunset, everything had changed.

#mystic messenger #saeyoung choi #707 #saeyoung x reader #707 x reader #multichapter #gold rush

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superhero--imagines · 4 years

Text

Part 1 Here! / Part 2 Here! / Part 3 Here! / Part 4 Here! / Part 5 Here! / Part 6 Here! / Part 7 Here! / Part 8 Here! / Part 9 Here! / Part 10 Here! / Part 11 Here! / Part 12 Here!

A/N: Shout out to @ideas-for-you-to-adopt for inspiring/writing a lot of the headcanons used for the “Bella Suspicion” part of this chapter!

I’m posting this a day early, because, well I’m flakey like that

* You spear another piece of pineapple, your teeth grinding together

* “I think that sounds perfect!” Lauren squeals lightly grasping Bella’s shoulder, Bella gives a small smile in return.

* You know what isn’t perfect?

* The fact that nothing is going according to plan.

* It’s already a month in and NOTHING has happened. You stab another piece of pineapple, sticking it into your mouth

* You’ve hung back in the school parking lot everyday for a MONTH, you were even late to cheer practice once, just to see if the “Tyler Van Accident” happened.

* Only it never did, and you didn’t know why until Lauren confided that she and Tyler had been hooking up lately.

* As in hooking up at her house after school before her parents came home.

* Of course it’s not going to happen when Tyler’s ditching his last period to drive to her house

* What a mess

* You chew the pineapple carefully, just like a human would. Because even though Bella knows LITERALLY NOTHING. She somehow suspects everything.

* You watch her from the corner of your eye, making polite conversation with Angela about biology next period.

* The amount of questions she has about you is ridiculous

* How did you meet Edward? How does your family know the Cullen’s? Where are you adoptive parents now? If they’re back in the states why haven’t you gone to live with them?

* It’s literally never ending. And that’s just her trying to poke holes in your story.

* You’re not even going to start with all the stuff she’s commented on your physical appearance

* “Hey don’t you think it’s weird they all have gold eyes?” You had heard Bella quietly ask Jessica when she thought you couldn’t hear

* “Not really, they’ve got like six kids, so when one kid needs something more of them do too. (Y/N) told me Alice wanted color contacts so Dr. Cullen just bought some for all of them.”

* And then the week before that, while you were doing a stunt at a basketball game Bella said:

* “Aren’t they like, too strong?” You were lifting up a girl all on your own.

* “Oh yeah- I guess you never saw the video, apparently they’re jacked.” Conner says, with a shrug.

* “Yeah they heard working out helps with stress when they were like 12 and just never stopped.” Mike adds absentmindedly

* And if that wasn’t enough she’s even said this a few weeks before that:

* “Don’t you think it’s weird how beautiful they all are?” Lauren wrinkles her nose, at the time she had gotten used to Bella but she still doesn’t seem to like her very much

* “Not really, I remember (Y/N) wasn’t all that pretty freshman year, they used to wear these really dorky glasses.”

* You had almost started to forget how good you had it, after you did all the leg work in the last two years to establish that you were normal -just kinda quirky- you had just started to enjoy the pay off. A little more lax with your appearance, wearing clothes you liked, doing more solo routines in cheer.

* Only for little Miss.Curious to show up

* Now you have to try extra hard to look human again. And not just you, the entire coven does, because when one of you falls under suspicion you all do.

* Rosalie’s been making her hair look messy every so often to give the illusion that she’s having a bad hair day, Alice wears a retainer every so often, even Emmett pretends to need the bathroom more than he usually does.

* This morning you even had Rosalie do a fake pimple on your jaw.

* If Bella wasn’t going to be your best friends’ future wife, you think you might just hate her.

* You kind of sympathize with Rosalie in the book now.

* “Hey (Y/N) are you in?” Conner asks nudging his elbow against yours.

* “In for what?” You mumble, spearing another piece of pineapple. Another downside is now you have to eat at lunch. Otherwise Bella starts asking why you never eat and everyone gets really concerned and starts force feeding you

* God, all those years of establish you have low blood sugar and acid reflux induced nausea for nothing

* “La Push beach, we’re all going this weekend.” You perk up at the mention

* Finally, something’s getting back on track

* “Can’t, cheer stuff.” You mumble, shoving your food around your plate with your fork.

* You don’t miss Bella’s meaningful glance on your mostly full plate.

* Oh great, you can practically see the question “don’t you think it’s weird how they never eat anything?” Forming in the inner corners of her mind

* “What about you Edward?” Lauren flutters her eyelashes and you have to stop yourself from rolling your eyes.

* Lauren’s still annoyed that even though they’re hooking up, Tyler hasn’t made anything official yet

* Alice told her flirting with another guy might help.

* “He’s not going either.” You say before Edward can even open his mouth. He doesn’t say anything just gives you a questioning look and a smile.

* Looks like he’s finding everyone else’s thoughts more interesting

* “Are you guys going on a date?” Jessica waggles her eyebrows and on the other side of the table Bella sputters.

* You roll your eyes

* “No Jessica, but if I can’t go have fun neither can he.” Technically you both are forbidden to go on tribal land but whatever. “Best friend code.”

* Also you’re pretty sure Edward and Emmett are going to Yellowstone to eat bears or something, like a couple of heathens

* The thought of eating straight out of bear, no idea what they’ve eaten or where they’ve been doing their business, makes you shudder.

* You did mention to them both that if they happen to find an orphaned bear cub somewhere to bring it back. You’ve been wanting to experiment with bear blood.

* “Best friend code.” Edward repeats slowly, and the look he gives you makes your stomach flutter. And it’s not because you just ate half a salad.

* You’re knocked out of the look when Conner bumps his knee against yours

* “Well that’s a shame, I was looking forward to seeing you in a swimsuit.”

* So Conner’s been flirting a lot with you lately. Kind of weird, your best guess is that he was hoping to date Lauren, but now that she’s kinda seeing Tyler, you’re starting to look good.

* “Maybe you should have a pool party at that fancy house of yours then.” The group laughs but Conner just smirks

* “Whatever you want babe but-“ the bell cuts him off and you give him a consolatory pat on the arm.

* You move to throw away the leftover food on your plate, walking with Edward

* “We’re ditching right?” You ask him as you toss the plate into the trash.

* “Yeah Mr. Barnes is doing his blood type experiment today.” Like he even needs an excuse to skip school. “Do you want to go to the bookstore or something?”

* You shake your head, that won’t do, when Bella faints Edward needs to be there so they can fall in love

* “Wanna just hang out in my car? We can listen to that new Debussy CD I got.”

* Edward gives you a small smile, like he’s not really happy

* “Whatever you want.”

* Wait what’s up with that.

* “Hey, (Y/N)!” Bella calls out for you and Edward grimaces.

* “I’ll meet you at your car” wait he’s not going to stay here? If this was a dating video game he’d be the kind of player that wasted all the capture flags and then complains when they end up all alone.

* He leaves just as Bella gets to you. She spares a fleeting glance in Edward’s direction, almost looking sad as she watches him walk away before she looks to you

* “Are you heading over to biology?” She really is cute, like a puppy. She must have been hoping to get a little closer to Edward.

* You almost feel bad for not warning her what with her issues on blood.

* “Nah I’ve got to finish my trig homework so I’m going to skip.” You fake a yawn.

* Oh, before you forget

* “I actually got you something.”

* You hand her a carefully wrapped gift bag, compliments of Rosalie of course

* “Vitamins?” Bella asks, her eyebrows threading together

* “Yeah, it’s like a vitamin powder, you just add it to water. We bought a big family pack so I thought I would share some with you.”

* Also because you’re 100% sure she’s anemic.

* Part of the reason you like the way she smells so much is because of her anemia, if it’s just the peach scent you can probably contain yourself.

* You wave goodbye and Bella looks down at the package in her hands with a goofy expression. She hugs it to her chest before her expression pinches.

* “I should have offered to let them copy my notes” Bella murmurs to herself. Smacking her forehead and walking to biology.

* When you manage to sneak out to the parking lot through the gym doors, you see Edward leaning against your car, looking bored as he looks to the tree line

* “Why didn’t you sit inside? You look like a douchebag.”

* “I would have if someone had given me the keys”

* Like that’s stopped him before

* You unlock the car, letting it start with a hum before you pull out your trig homework

* You weren’t entirely lying to Bella, you really hadn’t finished you homework

* Edward pulls out a book from his bag, you’re not ashamed to say you’ve gotten him super into “The City of Ember” series

* “Hey why did you walk away when Bella came over?” you’re only half curious, mostly just trying to make conversation. “You don’t hate her do you?” You add with a laugh.

* The mere thought of Edward Cullen hating Bella Swan is laughable.

* “Yeah I do.”

* You find yourself coughing from the sheer shock.

* “You mean she frustrates you because you can’t read her mind.” Edward has spared you a concerned glance when you started coughing, but has turned his attention back to his book

*” No I mean I don’t like her, and I don’t like being around her.” He doesn’t look up from his book as he says it.

* “But why?” Yeah she’s a little plain, and she’s still pretty shy even though you’ve been hanging out for a month and all those damn questions

* But she’s got good taste in books, and she’s pretty straightforward.

* She’s not the type of person to go behind your back, if you did something to upset her she’ll tell you straight to your face.

* Honestly she’s a lot like Angela, minus the hidden cunning nature.

* Edward eyes narrow and a heavy sigh escapes him. His head tilts back to rest against the passenger seat headrest.

* His neck is so long and white. The color of freshly fallen snow. You can’t help but think of how pretty it would look covered in hickeys.

* Like poppy’s blossoming in the snow.

* Can vampires get hickeys? Would it just be like black instead of red since none of you really have blood anymore.

* “I just don’t like-” He cuts himself off when his eyes meet yours, they seem to shine brighter for a moment, and you tilt your head. This feels like a meaningful look.

* Edward sighs and looks away.

* “I just don’t like her vibe.”

*”Vibe? Are you an Edward shaped imposter?” you see him mouth ‘Edward Shaped Imposter’ as you both laugh.

* “Where did you learn to say these things?” He asks between laughs. You mock gasp.

* “The real Edward would never ask me that because he’s too afraid to know! Who are you really? What planet are you from?” Your hands move to his face, his face is as smooth as marble, lingering warmth. You leaned in without thinking about it, only a few inches away from him.

* You’re so close you can smell him. He always smells good, like something ancient and profound. Rosemary and argon oil.

* Your hands are still on his face and he’s grinning.

* You gulp

* You’re trying to think of another ridiculous imposter joke you can make wen you catch a familiar head of blond hair through the window.

* “Is that Mike and ... Bella?”

* This is a lot sooner than you thought, it hasn’t even been ten minutes yet.

* Edward looks almost bored as he follows your gaze.

* “Yeah, looks like she made herself sick, she’s - what’s that word for when people are afraid of blood?”

* “Hemophobia?”

* “Yeah, that’s what she has.”

* You wait for a second, releasing his face from your hands, but instead of moving to open the door he slumps back into his seat, eyes focused on his book.

* “Don’t you think we should go help them?” He shrugs.

* The f*cking criminal just shrugs.

* WHAT THE F*CK IS GOING ON?!?!

* Human or not, there’s no world Edward wouldn’t at least think about helping someone who’s in trouble.

* You’re starting to think this really is an Edward imposter.

* You watch Bella lean on Mike, stumbling down the crosswalk to the nurse’s office in the next building.

* You can’t watch anymore

* ‘You know you-” You words finally get Edward’s attention as he looks up from his book. “You are wasting all the capture flags!” You shout before sliding out of your car and jogging over to Mike and Bella

* “Mike! What happened?” He’s so surprised to see you his grip on Bella goes slack and she falls out of his side hold.

* “Oh crap!”

* You rush to catch her, swinging her into a princess hold.

* What was Mike struggling with so much? She’s not very hea - oh right you’re a vampire.

* “Are you alright, I know she’s kinda heavy.” Well that’s not very nice to say about a girl, besides she’s pretty skinny. Can’t be more than 120 pounds.

* “It’s no problem, I do it for cheer are all the time.” You do a fake grunt as you pretend to get a better hold on her.

* The movement jostle her awake, her eyes fluttering open. She’s still in a dreamy state, her eyes are unfocused.

* “(Y/N)?”

* “Hey buddy, looks like ya fainted, squeamish around blood huh?”

* “How do you know we were doing the blood type experiment?” Mike asks.

* Oh crap. You were skipping, you weren’t supposed to know that. Even worse you brain can’t seem to come up with a valid excuse.

* “Alice told us about it, (Y/N) used to be squeamish around blood when we were kids, didn’t want to take any chances” You let out a sigh of relief when you see Edward walking towards you. At least he’s not completely heartless.

*”Then why were you skipping?” Mike asks scratching his head. Edward shrugs

* “They can’t go to class, then I won’t go either.” And then the criminal looks you straight in the eye and says with the cheekiest smile imaginable:

*“It’s the best friend code”

* Oh f*ck off Edward.

* You almost want to scoff when he takes Bella from your arms and into his.

* SO now he wants to care about the capture flag.

* You let him take her though, You swear you see her stiffen and frown when he holds her.

* That can’t be right, she seemed super relaxed when you were carrying her.

* “I-I’m fine I can walk.”

* “No you can’t.” Edward bluntly says.

* Even when he gets to capture event, he says all the wrong things. You sigh as you walk behind him. Only to notice another set of footsteps by you.

* “You can go back if you want Mike, Edward won’t kidnap her or anything.” He might throw her into the lake though.

* Mike shakes his head. “No it just seems wrong to not make sure she at least gets to the nurses office.”

*You smile, he really is a kind boy.

* “Also I’ll be damned if Bella gives Edward all the credit.” Well mostly kind.

* You get to the nurses office, who seems incredibly flustered with both you and Edward in such a small space.

* She seems so preoccupied keeping her wits about her as she checks out Bella and deals with your presence that she never asks why three people had to escort one person to the nurses office.

* “Well your blood pressure is a little low, since you fainted I would suggest you go home. If you want you can take a nap in here until school’s out.” Wow, where was a nurse this generous when you were in school.

* Bella, the beautiful moron, shakes her head.

* “No it’s okay I’ll go back to class, I don’t want to take a zero for the assignment” Well that’s noble and responsible and all. But what does she think is going to happen when she goes back to class?

* She’s going to see some blood again and faint. Not that you can be mad, you would probably have to go the the nurse too if Bella ever managed to prick her own finger

* “Bella you really shouldn’t,” You settle your hand on her shoulder pushing her back onto the chair. “You just fainted you should lie down, or go home or something.”

* Her eyebrows thread together, mouth pulled in protest.

* “I don’t want to impose on any-”

* “It’s not an imposition, I want to!” Her mouth parts, then closes, stretching into a fine line. You look to Edward who’s avoiding your gaze and seems very irritated.

* Enemies to lovers trope it is.(Though you’re not sure if this counts as enemies if only one person dislikes the other)

* “I’m going to drop you off home, come on.” You pull Bella up by her hand, leading her to the parking lot.

* “Wait what about my car?”

* Oh you hadn’t thought about that.

*Hmmm in the original book Alice drove her home. But Alice doesn’t really do anything unless there’s something in it for her, or if she wants to.

* Also you’re pretty sure when she ditched today when she found out that people were pricking there finger on campus. She claimed it was for Jasper, but you’re pretty sure there’s a sale in the Nordstrom in Seattle.

* Edward would rather get the flu than drive Bella’s ancient truck.

* Which leaves only one option.

* You toss your keys to Edward who catches them with one hand.

* “Edward will drive you home in my car, and I’ll drive your car behind him.”

* “What about Rosalie?” He grumbles.

*“What about Rosalie?” Why is he being so difficult right now? Doesn’t he realize you’re doing this all for him!

* “You’re driving her home since Emmett and I are leaving for Yellow Stone as soon as school lets out.” Oh right the bears. Cr*p.

* “It’s not a big deal, I’ll drive back to school after we’re done and you can go your way and I’ll go mine.”

* You can tell Edward doesn’t like it, but he just sigh’s climbing into your car and then promptly getting out of the passenger side and sitting in the driver’s side.

* The dork forgot he had to drive the car.

* You’re dying laughing as Bella leads you to her car.

* “It’s the blue one.”

* Her truck isn’t all that bad. It’s old, but in a kind of retro way. It’s powder blue, with only two doors and no backseat.

* You climb in, turning the engine and hearing it purr. Well it’s more of a roar, but it’s not terrible.

* You’re surprised when Bella climbs through the passenger side door.

* “Um, you’re not going to drive with Edward?” She looks at you like you just asked her to recite the Fibonacci sequence.

* “Why would I go with him when you’re the one driving my car?” Okay, that’s fair.

* You sigh, why does nothing ever go according to plan.

* Maybe it’s for the best, Edward doesn’t seem to be in the best mood. Not that this is good either, she’s sitting so close to you, her peachy scent fills the small space of the truck and you feel lightheaded.

* It’s less than a ten minute trip, no need to get dramatic. You’re pretty sure you won’t kill her just because she smells nice.

* “Soooooo... what do you want to talk about?” You ask as you turn out of the school, this car is super slow compared to yours, you’re pretty sure it won’t go over 50 mph.

* Bella fidgets beside you, playing with the ends of her hair.

* “So are you and Edward...dating?”

* You laugh so loud you actually start coughing. And then you laugh again.

* “No-pfff- no We’re uh- we’re not dating.” You finally manage.

* “Why is that so funny to you?” She asks, genuinely confused.

* “Well it’s just outrageous you know?” How would that even work? You can’t even picture it. Edward getting all hot and bothered because you’re wearing an oversized sweater and glasses. You flirting with him all over the house in front of Carlisle and Esme. Edward signing up for a sport just so he can see you in his letterman.

* It’s all...impossible.

* And yet, there is one thing you can picture.

* Edward by your side, he’s almost golden brown, his eyes bright green. He points to the living room, and in there are Alec and Jane, both of their eyes blue as they argue over who’s turn it is to watch TV.

* Maybe if you were human, if you had met in a different world or a different time, that would be something you could have.

* But it is what it is

* “Edward and I have been friends for a really long time, we’ve just seen too much of each other to find each other attractive like that.”

* Bella looks like she doesn’t believe you but she doesn’t say anything.

* Wait what are you doing? This is the perfect chance to talk Edward up!

* “But you know Edward is a real stand up guy!” It leaves a little too forcefully, a little inauthentic.

* “Oh is he?” She doesn’t sound too excited to be talking about this.

* “I know he’s got one of those face-”

* “Obnoxiously handsome?” She spats

* “Like he thinks existence is a curse, and the world is evil and everything is terrible -” Wait you’re getting off track. “B-but he really is a good guy!”

* You bite your lip, as Bella tells you to turn into a subdivision.

* “You know after- after I was adopted,” After your parents died. “I was really lonely, I had a family that loved me and anything I asked for but I didn’t really have anyone to talk to” Oh god, why did you choose this story to pick? “Edward was probably the only friend my age I had for years.”

* She straightens up a little bit, a curious glint in her eyes.

* “Really?” You nod.

* “Yeah he would come by every Monday and Wednesday,” You still remember the crunch of the snow under your feet as you both walked to the barn. He always asked why you didn’t just run, and you always told him because you liked the way you could see your breath hang in the air,

* “He could have been out that time, hanging out with other people,” More well adjusted vampires, who hunted instead of harvesting small amounts from animals they raised. “or chasing girls and playing sports, but he stayed with me.”

* “He always made me feel safe, and I’m sure whoever is lucky enough to end up with him will feel that way too.”

* “I think you’re giving him too much credit” Bella finally says, you smile at her

* “what do you mean?”

* “Well, who wouldn’t drop everything to hang out with you?” You can’t tell if she’s being genuine or if she’s bitter. Your eyes meet hers and there’s a twinkle in them. ”My house is the one on the left, the one with the magnolia tree.”

* You come to a stop in front of the house she mentioned, shifting it into park, and handing her the keys.

* You don’t say anything as you climb out of her car. You see Edward stopped a few dozen feet behind her truck, your jeep still on.

* “Thanks for driving me home” She smiles at you, a real smile that reaches her eyes. It’s nice.

* “No problem, it gave me an excuse to ditch school too haha.” You both stand in awkward silence. Neither of you moving.

* Well damn what are you supposed to do now?

* “Oh, hey do you want me to bring you your homework or anything?”

* She perks up at that, reaching into her pocket

* “If you don’t mind, could you text me what page he homework is on for trig today?”

* “ Oh for sure! No problem at all” You take her cell phone in your hand. It’s a white sidekick, with a picture of a cactus on the back. She must have gotten it when she moved.

* You can’t help but wonder if she has any friends she misses. She spent her entire life in one community, sure Phoenix is a pretty big place, but she must have had friends, people she sat with at lunch everyday, girls she had known since childhood, sleepovers where they whispered about boys they had crushes on.

* As you hand her phone back, your contact information saved in it, you can’t help but wonder who this person in front of you is. You know her, but at the same time, you know absolutely nothing about her.

* “See you Monday!” You wave goodbye as you get into the passenger side of your car, and Bella waits on the porch until you and Edward leave.

* Edward’s got that look on his face.

* “Edward why are you mad?”

* “I’m not mad.” He grumbles and you raise an eyebrow. He sighs.

* “You’re going out of your way an awful lot for that human.” He says as he turns back onto the highway.

* “It’s just the right thing to do Eddie.”

* He shakes his head, his mouth pinched into a frown

* “Just be careful, I don’t know what that one’s thinking, she could be planning to burn our entire coven for all I know.”

* You roll your eyes, yeah you bet Bella who weights exactly 115 pounds, and has anemia is single handedly planning to bring down the entire vampire race.

* “How about we make a deal, I’ll promise not to rock the boat while you and Emmett are gone-”

* “Why do I feel like I’m going to regret not covering my ears?”

*” If you promise to bring me back a bear cub - an orphaned one.” He gives you a look you don’t quite care for.

* “You want me to kill a mother bear so you can have a bear cub?”

* “No of course not! I’m just saying- Emmett doesn’t really look before he kills so if he kills a mother bear, just make sure you bring me the cubs.”

* “Why do you even want a bear? How are you planning to take care of it with all those deer around, they need a lot-”

* “Yes Dad I know it’s a big responsibility, don’t worry I won’t make you take it on walks or anything.”

* Edward gulps hard, one hand detaching from the steering wheel to cover his mouth.

* Wouldn’t it be positively sinful for you to be underneath him, whining ‘daddy, please’ in that breathy voice of yours and-

* Edward.exe is broken.

* “Dude you really need to get your shit together before you go on your trip, we’ve been parked for fifteen minutes and your foot is still on the brake.” You say as you get out of the car

* He hits his head against the steering wheel.

* “Yeah, I really do need to get my shit together.”

Tags: @moonlights27 @thebluetint @the100thtwilight @awesomebooklover17 @oneofthepotterheads @smileygirl08 @imdoingathingmom @iconicgguk @yrawn @alyciaswhore @little-horror-show @wicked-watering-can @lazydreamers @ xxxmuxxx @ideas-for-you-to-adopt @poisoinedhope @maryleigh8796 @moose-squirrel-asstiel @hotmessgoodness

#twilight #twilight imagines #twilight headcanons #twilight reader insert #twilight saga #edward cullen imagine #edward cullen x reader #edward cullen #bella swan #bella swan x reader #bella swan headcanon #midnight sun #superhero--imagines

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chilly-me-softly · 3 years

Text

Lifespan • Mason Mount

Warning: mention of death, other than that I hope you like it x

When you started to think that something was wrong, that you were different from everyone else, you were afraid. Whenever you were on the verge of talking to someone about it, you simply couldn't; the fear of being seen as crazy or not being believed was always in the forefront of your mind.

It all started when you turned twenty-one, before that you had never had a chance to believe that something was wrong with you. Your sister had just become a mother and everyone in the family was so happy with the new arrival, including you, that you went to see them with your hands full of presents as soon as you could.

That little bundle was so small and defenceless, in his cradle carefree and ready to live all the life he had ahead of him. You took him in your arms, careful not to be too rough, cuddling him for a while, captivated by that little miracle and swearing to yourself that you would do anything to be an example to him.

Something shiny on his leg had caught your attention, a series of numbers running backwards like a countdown had you raising an eyebrow in confusion. 89:54:12...11...10...09... you had brushed it tentatively but nothing happened.

"You're all right (Y/N)? Is something wrong?" the new mother had asked, seeing you focused on looking at her son's skin and knowing how you were always looking for the smallest details.

Looking up at your sister and back down at the little leg, it was all gone. Just as it had appeared it was gone and you shake your head, "Nah don't worry about it. I'm just still in shock from this beauty"

Over the next few days that episode buzzed around in your head annoyingly, you were curious wanting to find out what it was but at the same time it scared you. What if it was a curse rather than a good thing? Several times you had gone back to visit your nephew and each time the number was different, lower. And you found you could only see it once a day, the sign disappearing just as it appeared. At its own pace. You could only see it on the side of the left leg, it was hard to see when covered up and you couldn't see it on yourself.

That thought now took up all your spare time, you had even researched it on the internet but had not been very lucky. You had found out what it was at your own expense.

You had errands to run that day and got up early, it was a nice day and you thought you'd leave the car in the garage and go for a nice walk. You look down at your phone as you wait for the pedestrian light to turn green and as you do so you realise your shoe is untied. You lean down to fix it and a sparkle draws your attention to your right, a little girl apparently alone with a backpack bigger than her on her shoulders is waiting beside you. 00:00:06 is written on her leg.

The light turns green and lots of people start walking quickly before getting stuck in the red light again. You hurry walking but when people start shouting to be careful you instinctively grab that little girl by her backpack pulling her to you avoiding an accident, a truck that didn't even stop.

"Thank you, ma'am"

"Oh my god are you alright?" you murmur shocked walking the child to the other side of the pavement safely as she nods and then goes on her way, you following her with your eyes. Until she collapses to the ground and you swear your heart skipped a beat as your legs start running towards her, 00:00:00 in red on her leg.

Mason immediately notices something is wrong with you as soon as he opens the door, your expression blank and your face almost colourless. He immediately wraps you in a hug closing the door gently and your grip tightens when he would like to pull away to look you in the eye.

"What's going on (Y/N)?" he asks worriedly, stroking your hair as you shake your head, you held on as you tried to resuscitate that little girl in vain; as they loaded her into the ambulance with the sheet on her tiny body and even as you answered the police's questions. And you're literally exhausted, tears start to roll down your cheeks as Mason forces you to look at him, laying his hands on your cheeks gently but firmly. "You're worrying me"

"There was an accident today" you murmur with a broken voice and he takes a step back to look at you entirely and make sure with his eyes that nothing is out of place. He pulls you to his chest again as he tries to get you to move towards the couch.

"Do you want to tell me what happened?" he asks softly not wanting to push you, you sit by his side leaning forward and resting your elbows on your knees. Your tongue goes to stop a tear that is falling down powerfully at that moment.

"There was a little girl" you tremble at the mere memory, "she was maybe twelve. And we were... there was a red light and then we crossed and she was alive"

"Oh babe" he sighs stroking your back, watching you shake your head.

"No Mase, she was alive on the other side of the road. Then... then she fell to the ground and-" a sob shakes your body as he looks at you helplessly.

"I knew it"

"What? Babe it was a random accident, you couldn't have known"

"I knew it Mason! I knew something was going to happen but I thought that having saved her from the truck she was going to be saved and instead..."

"What are you saying (Y/N)?"

"Mason, I'm losing my mind" you look at him genuinely scared and he wastes no time in wrapping you around himself again. "You just went through a traumatic event, it's normal for you to feel upset honey"

"No I- I need to tell you something" you sit up properly not breaking eye contact, watching him swallow but waiting for you to continue. And you tell him everything from the beginning trying to be as accurate as possible, from the birth of your nephew to the shiny writing on his leg; the research and testing to find out more and more every day, to that day when you really realised what it was by learning that you can't change fate.

"What's the point if I can't do anything to change it?" is the first thing you ask to a silent Mason, trying to absorb that strong informations all at once. And you can't blame him if he doesn't want to believe you, I mean it's kind of surreal, isn't it?

"You can see the date of people's deaths?"

"Apparently. But please call it a person's lifespan instead" he nods, his hand touching your knee to make you feel his presence and his thumb stroking you gently.

"Wow all this is just... wow. I wonder if there are more of you out there"

"You believe me?" you're on the verge of tears again as he smiles softly.

"Why wouldn't I, you have magic" he manages to make you laugh in spite of everything, a tear escaping your control but you promptly wipe it away.

"How does it work? Does it hurt?"

You shake your head, "I don't feel anything, just this light which is then replaced by numbers... I should have realised sooner" your gaze ending on Mason's legs who is thankfully wearing long trousers, no more numbers for today.

He follows your gaze, "Have you seen mine?" the question pops up and you quickly shake your head closing your eyes. "I can't see it if you've got it covered and I don't want to please"

"No hey it's okay, it's okay" slowly he pulls you with him until you're lying on the couch, you sigh settling yourself better in his arms focusing on his beating heart and nothing more.

"Have you tried searching on the internet?" you nod, "Yeah but I haven't found that much"

"Yeah but maybe now that you know what it's for you can look more properly"

"Some other time. I can't do it now"

"We'll do it together when you want to" he leaves a kiss on your temple as you give him a first sweet smile after all those tears.

Having someone to share all this with turned out to be a godsend. Just as he had said, since the accident Mason had been with you through everything and you had almost moved in with him.

You would have liked to say that you had learned to live with it, but the truth was that since that day you had been so afraid it might happen again that you no longer looked down. Mason had researched it for you, urging you to try this and that, sometimes much more excited about discovering new things about it than you were. But at the same time he'd also given you your space to decide how to deal with it all and you'd simply decided not to deal with it; not being able to do anything to avoid the inevitable had stopped you from studying how to live with it.

Your phone vibrates and Mason's name appears on the screen after a moment, your smile disappearing little by little as you accept the call. Hearing his voice calms you a little, but that doesn't mean you don't feel your heart in your throat when he tells you that he's in the hospital and that he and Declan were in an accident.

He needs you and you don't think twice about getting in the car and driving to him, phone to your ear as your eyes work further than your legs to try and find him as quickly as possible. And when you do, the relief is so intense that you hold him tightly to you as he groans slightly.

"How are you? Declan?"

"Just a few scratches. He was unconscious when they took him away" Mason sits back in the chair and you at his side stroking his back as you let him run through what happened with his mind, holding him in your arms when he breaks down just like he did to you when you needed him.

"(Y/N) I need you to do something for me" you don't need to make him continue any further to understand what's going through his head.

"No Mason" you shake your head seriously, "don't make me do that"

"Please (Y/N), I need to know" he murmurs looking into your eyes.

"Why? Even if it was you couldn't do anything so why would you want to know?"

"I'd like to make sure he's going to be okay and because I could be around if him..." his breath dies in his throat at the very thought.

"I can't" and you try to stop him as he shakes his head walking away to get some air, putting a glass divider between you and him.

Your gaze drifts from him to the door where nurses come in and out, your leg shaking rhythmically. You don't want to be the one to tell him that news, it would destroy him. But then why does it have to be bad news? Yeah, but what if it is?

You look at Mason one last time before getting up, your mind not even registering what you ask the nurse in the hallway; her sweet smile leading you past the room you seek.

"I'll only stay a couple of minutes, thank you very much" the nurse walks away and you watch your friend from a distance, still undecided as to whether that's the right thing to do. Silently you step into the room moving closer until you're beside the bed, Declan has a few scratches on his face and an injured shoulder at first glance but the fact that he's been unconscious for so long doesn't give the doctors the green light to dismiss him at the moment.

His legs are covered by a sheet and for a moment you think it's a sign. Your hand freezing in mid-air on the first try. And then the glow starting to appear even from under the sheet, your hand moving on its own to uncover his leg and your eyes closing at that light more brightly than usual. Your heartbeat the only thing you can hear for a moment until you open your eyes. A few tears escape your control as you pull the sheet down as if you got burned, your hand going to cover your mouth as you hurry out of that room.

"Oh (Y/N) what have you done?" you almost clash with Mason and he's quick to wrap his arms around you as you try to pull yourself together. When he hadn't seen you where he'd left you once he'd gotten back, he'd known immediately and the guilt had hit him hard.

He shouldn't have asked you, not knowing the emotional effort you have to put into all that. Declan was going to be fine and even though his fate may be another, knowing that beforehand wouldn't have changed anything; he'd be by his friend's side no matter what and putting you in that position...

"It's okay, I had to do it. If I can't use it to calm those I love, then when?"

"So...?"

"I can't know what's next for him but Declan still has a long life ahead of him" despite everything it's a relief to hear and the boy cheers slightly, his gaze inevitably shifting to his bed visible from outside.

And maybe that's what it's used for, knowing to be able to spend most of our time with someone we love; no regrets.

"Go to him" Mason leaves a kiss on your lips before going to sit next to his friend. A solid 62:03:20 runs down his leg.

#mason mount #mason mount imagine #mason mount imagines #declan rice #my writing #original #football imagine #football imagines #football one shot

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keisurin · 4 years

Text

swipe left! smau - ♡︎the wedding

suna rintarou x y/n l/n

masterlist

27 // 28 // 29

a/n: super long writing, take a drink and have a seat☺️

(for the people on the taglist, all chapters are already up, use the masterlist or next button to find the new chapters)

“y/n. y/n. Y/N DROP THE BET DROP THE BET YOU DONT HAVE TO PAY ME ILL PAY YOU OH MY,” tendou screeched into his microphone. you just explained how you ended up in this situation where you’re going to a wedding as suna’s plus one to shiratorizawa and everyone, more like just tendou was in a sort of panic state.

“tendou-san, sweetie, CHILL IM JUST ACCOMPANYING HIM,” you screech back. you were currently at a hotel near the wedding venue getting ready for the wedding that was sort of last minute having it just 2 days after suna asked. while getting ready you decided to call the shiratorizawa squad but it went downhill quickly with tendou’s undying dislike for suna.

“accompanying him, what does he also need to be accompanied when he goes to the bathroom?” you could feel the aura of tendou rolling his eyes through the phone. despite his saltiness you couldn’t help but laugh a bit.

“tendou-senpai! why are you freaking out so much? it’s not like y/n-senpai ever falls for anyone, nothing will happen right?” goshiki tried to calm down the fuming red head. tendou wasn’t actually angry he just likes to provoke a bit. you on the other hand, would rather die than admit how you feel for suna.

“pft, yea,” you replied.

“oi y/n you didn’t say anything about you and suna sharing a whole ass couple hotel room,” semi said. you and suna were given a hotel room to share, you were sort of shocked but the suna’s seemed to be richer than expected and the wedding must’ve been a big thing.

“hoi there’s two beds it’s just like a sleepover sem-chan.”

“a wedding, y/n are you wearing a wedding gown?” ushijima asked confused on the situation. “BWHAHAHA SHE WOULD THO,” tendou shouted. “y/n would wear the maid outfit tendou got her, she has no morale,” shirabu coldly said.

“when y/n and i were younger she wore crocs to one of the weddings we went to,” semi brought up. “i did and USHIJIMA-SENPAI, I DONT HAVE ANYTHING ON RIGHT NOW, YOU CAN PICK THE COLOUR OF THE DRESS IM GOING TO WEAR” you excitedly spoke.

“y/n are you naked-“ “hey y/n you said suna would provide a dress, don’t forget that,” semi cuts ushijima off but reminded, what would you do without him. and you were actually wearing a temporary dress just waiting for suna to come back with the dress you’re meant to wear.

“put the circumstances aside, i would say you should wear a green dress, the colour of my crops at home.”

you were holding in your laugh as there was silence as ushijima continued “you can camouflage yourself in the crops.”

“ushijima-senpai, i’ll keep that in mind thank you so much.”

after awhile you heard knocks at the door and the familiar voice of suna spoke “y/n, may i come inside?”

“sHIT I THINK SUNA IS HERE.”

“tell him fuck you,” tendou says. “hey this is a no curse convo, goshiki is here.” you spat back. “what did he even do to you,” shirabu asked.

you ended the call and opened the door for suna.

“what’s up,” you smile.

“hey, sorry did i interrupt something?” suna asks.

“nope, no, this is your hotel room anyways, come inside.”

suna handed you your dress and told once you’re done you’ll go to the wedding venue. you followed through and went into the bathroom for privacy. you were already ready from earlier and just had to slip on the dress. you asked suna if you could go out and he gave you the okay.

there you saw him standing there, his body was muscular from volleyball and that showed through the fitted suit. this was the most tidy you’ve ever seen suna, minus the undone tie around his neck, he looked like this could’ve been his wedding.

“don’t know how to tie a tie now do you?” you softly chuckled. he jokingly pouted, “guessing you do?”

you gave the offer to tie it for him and when that was done you made your way to the venue. the venue was near the hotel so it was a small stroll.

the wedding went by quickly, you sat in the row that suna’s family was on. the wedding itself looking beautiful in the theme of light blue. unfortunately you and suna didn’t pay too much attention to what was happening since the two of you honestly just played imessage games the whole time.

towards the end at the reception, the people started the dancing. first came the hip music for the kids where they all just played around. suna’s sister asked you to join her after her brother told her no. you kindly obliged and joined her and just jumped and had fun, you’ve never felt so young. you didn’t see it but suna was covering his smile from how cute the two of you were.

in the end they had the having the typical slow dance for the people with dates to come. suna’s sister suddenly speaking and saying “nii-chan, y/n! please dance?” rintarou rolled his eyes and shook his head, you on the other hand wasn’t able to say no to her, so you pulled rintarou off his seat and and got on the dance floor.

you both didn’t really know what to do except place your arms around his neck. “you really had to pull me into this?” suna said as he placed his hands on your hips. you looked down and bit your lips trying to hold in your laugh since he didn’t seem to hesitant about this. his relatives started to tease and watch as the two of you sort of just awkwardly swayed together. “suna?” “yea?”

you wanted to have this conversation over the phone, it would’ve been less stressful but you couldn’t wait. “suna what do you think of me?” you asked. “eh? did i insult you or something?”

“what? no i just wondered, are you going to leave me once this is done?”

suna was speechless. he didn’t think you’d ask something like that. especially in the moment. “why would you ask something like that?” suna sounded almost offended.

“you said you needed a date for the wedding and that’s it, exams are coming close so our tutoring sessions would end, you don’t really need me anymore right?”

suna at the moment just felt sort of hurt but he gets the idea of you overthinking what your relationship is with him. he pulled you into a hug and spoke “y/n, you’re not this much of a dumbass, wedding, tutoring session or whatever, even if that wasn’t there i want you in my life. i’m into you, you know that?”

rintarou isn’t good with words. if he had to he could reply to anything with one worded answers but he knows what he wants with you. and for you, his say and do anything.

his words fell lightly into your ears, suddenly it felt like your surroundings disappeared and it was just the two of you. you moved a bit to face rintarou’s face, “you’re into me?” you needed to hear it again.

“so into you.”

you leaned your head into his chest and confessed, “me too.”

suna held your chin and made you face him, “putting all of the dumb bets we made aside, will you be my girlfriend?” you giggled and answered “fuck the bets i’m yours.”

funfact(s):

-the wedding was at a resort a bit far from the hyogo mainland which is why suna recommended that y/n stays at the hotel.

-the miya twins kept teasing suna that he purposely asked to share a room with y/n but no it was completed an accident.

-suna planned on asking y/n to be his girlfriend the night they were in the hotel together but already passed out from the fact he had to share a room with y/n.

-the day before, y/n met suna’s family and they all love her, especially suna’s sister.

-they’re official<3

taglist status: CLOSED

taglist: @02hhsailor @blana @heyheysey @elianetsantana @kritiiiii @dae-kirei @honeydrip @bbymilkbread @cece-lives-here @tsum-tsxmus @sbaepsae @shyroadloverslime @amberalisa @peteunderoos @definitelynotbianca @omibaby @angrylittleriri @good-girlinhell @anngelllla @simpletype @todaysnotmyday @rintarhoes @volleybloop @sunaluver @ssuna @shioriaigasaki @alienvarmint @witcherydotcom @babyshoyo @sickofyourbull @rint4rous @fi-chanwrites @wjsuna @pastel-babes @kellesvt @kathya420 @kiyobbie @vhskenma @yumaryko @420-uwu @kiraakaashi @navymacaroons @icedberrytea @vicassa @euphorin @mint-mai @its-babybitch

#swipe left! smau #s.r swipe left!#haikyuu smau #suna rintarou smau #suna rintarou #hq smau #suna rintarō #suna x y/n #suna smau #hq suna #suna rintaro x reader #suna rintaro smau

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heeberry · 3 years

Text

It’s Not What You Think

(Loona) Jung Jinsoul x Female!Reader

Requested: yes!

Berry: Hello may I ask for Jinsoul x fem!reader angst where reader spends time with a member a bit too much cause they're planning a surprise for Jinsoul but JInsoul ends up thinking reader is cheating and confronts them about it. Reader feels conflicted and says smth along the lines of "Im not that kind of person" but they make up after a long ass deliberation. Sorry if it's a bit much, thank you!!

A/n: don’t worry berry it wasn’t too much at all!! Sorry for writing this late </3 it’s a tiny bit rushed so if you don’t like it let me know and I’ll write it again :]

Jinsoul crossed her arms, slumped up against the couch. She huffed, watching you and Chaewon huddled on the couch across from her, giggling and doing things on the computer.

The Tv was just background music to her at this point, her eyes drilling a hole between you and Chaewon. You glanced at the girl, but soon looked back at the computer, her gaze was enough to tell you that she wasn’t having it. It sure was scary to you, not familiar with her angry side. Jinsoul was usually sweet and affectionate, but what you saw was the complete opposite, which you knew why, but you can’t really do anything about it at the moment.

“Y/n ignore her, we have to focus” Chaewon snapped you out of your thoughts, you nodded at her words, going back to picking out decorations online.

Jinsoul’s birthday was just tomorrow, so to show some appreciation you decided to throw a party for her. You picked Chaewon to help you since she’d been hanging out with Jinsoul often, and because you two were the closest ones in the dorm.

At first Jinsoul didn’t mind, she knew how close the two of you were so she let you be. But as time passed she noticed how less you spent time with her, which made her heart ache.

“Should we get those confett shooters?”

“Why not” you laughed, adding it to your chart.

After checking the items out and paying you turned to Chaewon. “Do you think Jinsoul’s mad at me right now?” You suddenly asked.

Chaewon glanced at Jinsoul, she was talking to Heejin but her expression still showed how upset she was. Chaewon turned back to you, with a slight smile, “yeah probably” she paused “still don’t let that get in the way right now, the decorations are coming tomorrow so we have to plan out how we’re gonna surprise Jinsoul”

You nodded, though there was something telling you that talking to her won’t hurt, it’s not like your avoiding her with bad intentions. “I’ll just talk to her for a few” you whispered after noticing Heejin leaving and going towards the kitchen.

“Jinsoul!” You cheered, climbing on her to give her a tight hug. “Are you okay?”

Jinsoul kept her mouth shut, she tried not letting the warmth of the hug get to her. As much as she was desperate to wrap her arms around you she contained it, wanting to let you know how upset she was.

You cup her face, turning it to face you. “What happened? Why aren’t you talking?”

Jinsoul scoffed at your words, brushing your hands off. She pulled you off of her, getting up without a word and leaving.

You felt a pang in your heart, you must’ve really made her upset. Tomorrow was her birthday too, and having this happen wasn’t apart of the plan.

Walking back to Chaewon with a frown, you hugged your best friend. She pats your head, witnessing the whole scene. “It’s okay y/n, she won’t stay mad at you for long. Your her girlfriend anyway.”

Chaewon put an arm around you, squeezing your cheeks. “She’ll probably be like, oh my baby y/n! I’m so sorry for being mad, this is amazing!” You laughed at Chaewon’s words as she continued, “thank you so much! Seriously babe, I wasn’t expecting this!” Pointing at the computer as if there was something valuable actually there.

You kept laughing with her, eyes closed shut and holding your stomach. She knew how to comfort you for sure, as she soon laughed with you.

As much as the two of you were having a good time, someone in the corner surely wasn’t. Jinsoul stared, stunned at what she just heard. “Did she just? Call y/n, babe?” She mumbled to herself, recalling Chaewon’s words and use of physical affection.

Now Jinsoul knew she had to do something. Her heart immediately smashed into pieces, like a hammer hitting glass. She felt like she was stepping on lava, feeling betrayed and hurt.

She walked into her room, the door slamming so loud that the two of you were awoken from your own little worlds.

You cleared the tears on your face, “alright Chae, let’s inform the others about what their roles are”

...

The next day rolled around and you felt excited. Removing the covers off of you and heading towards Jinsoul’s room to greet her a happy birthday. You knocked twice and opened the door, greeted by the coolness of the ac that was in her room. You jumped on her bed, “Jinsoul get up!” You laughed. Ruffling her hair as she woke up.

Her face dropped when she saw you, but you didn’t seem to notice. “Happy birthday babe!” You cheered, peppering her face with kisses.

Though Jinsoul didn’t seem as excited as you, pulling you away from her face she got up without a word. You stared at her, “the silent treatment again?” You frowned.

You couldn’t tell how upset she was, surely you did spend less time with her but that usually happens whenever the both of you are busy anyway, how come she’s suddenly like this now?

“Jinsoul!” You whined, grabbing her hand before she stepped out the door, “why are you suddenly ignoring me?”

Jinsoul kept her anger inside, if she dared to open her mouth she knew she’d explode. You pushed her around and attempted to hug her, Jinsoul just stood, letting it all happen.

Soon enough you grew tired and annoyed, “can you just tell me what happened to you?” You snapped. “You’ve been ignoring me since yesterday giving me the silent treatment, what’s up with that?”

Jinsoul turned to you with a scoff, “are kidding me?”

You raised an eyebrow, “what?”

“You’ve been the one ignoring me! What’s up with that” she mimicked, “since last week you’ve been clinging onto Chaewon like I don’t exist”

“God every single day I’ve seen you with her and the two of you are giggling like there’s no tomorrow” Jinsoul’s voice kept getting higher and higher, with each word hitting you in the face.

“I mean at first I didn’t mind of course since she’s your best friend but yesterday was where the line was crossed” Jinsoul yelled, ruffling her own hair.

She paused, her vision becoming more blurry from the tears forming in her eyes. She sniffled before pointing a finger, “YOU CHEATED ON ME”

You gasped but before you could even speak Jinsoul cut you.

“I saw it all L/n Y/n. Chaewon calling you babe to the two of you acting all lovey dovey. Don’t act like you guys didn’t do that yesterday because I saw it with my own two eyes!”

“Jinsoul I-”

“Don’t Jinsoul me, I don’t care about your explanation. What I saw was as clear as day and for that we’re breaking up right here and now” Jinsoul snapped, “Don’t you dare try coming to me again, go hang out with your new girlfriend.”

Jinsoul headed towards the door, which made you panic, forgetting what things were prepared outside. “Wait Jinsoul!” You yelled, yanking her away from the door.

It was now the other way around, you stood in front of her with tears in your eyes. “Soulie please here me out, it’s not what you think! Please”

Jinsoul leaned against the bed, a sigh escaping her lips. She kept her tough imagine outside but inside was filled with hurt and sorrow. Not only did she caught you with Chaewon, seeing you like this also made her weak in the knees. But she kept it in, gesturing you to talk.

“I swear I didn’t cheat on you” you paused to wipe the tears that spilled down your eyes like a waterfall. “What you saw yesterday was Chaewon mimicking you I promise!”

“But why?”

“Because we were getting things for you and while doing so we started talking about you”

Jinsoul scoffed again, “yeah right like I’ll believe such a thing now”

She walked towards the door again, leaving you crying on the floor. Jinsoul opened the door to see Chaewon and the others with party hats on. Usually on birthdays you’d cheer and scream, but this moment in particular wasn’t what they did.

It was silent, the members heard everything. They stood there with frowns or blank faces. The house was decorated with balloons and all sorts of things. A cake sat perfectly on the table, candles sitting on it with the words, “Happy Birthday Jinsoul!” Written in blue, the color she liked.

Jinsoul’s jaw dropped when she saw everything decorated. Chaewon frowned, breaking the silence. “we were together to plan out your birthday”

She turned to you, your cheeks puffed out and eyes bloodshot red from continuessly crying.

Jinsoul looked at her members apologetically before going towards you. Closing the door behind her, she crouched down to hug you.

“Well what now?” Yeojin spoke, breaking the silence. “I think we should go, things will get better later so let’s leave them alone for now” Haseul replied.

“what about the activities we planned?” Yerim added, “we didn’t make reservations for nothing”

“We’ll do what we planned later stupid, they need each other right now” Heejin said, rushing the members to sit in the living room and wait.

Meanwhile you smacked Jinsoul, “I told you! I told you we weren’t doing anything romantic” you frowned, “why would you even accuse me of cheating when I literally cling onto you 24/7?”

Jinsoul kissed you, “I’m so sorry for yelling at you, I knew I shouldn’t have snapped at you like that”

You shook your head, “it isn’t your fault, I mean, I was technically the one ignoring you but only because I didn’t wanna accidently spoil the surprise for you”

Jinsoul grabbed your hand, getting you up on your two feet before smiling at you. “Let’s pretend that never happened yea?”

You nodded, and Jinsoul pecked you on the lips. “Next time I’ll hear you out instead of yelling at you like a total idiot”

“Yeah you definitely should next time”

Once the door of Jinsoul’s room opened it was like nothing never really happened. The members stood there shooting confetti and shouting happy birthday.

You laughed at their antics, turning to Jinsoul to give her a rightful kiss. “Happy Birthday my love, and don’t you ever think I’d cheat on you”

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anika-ann · 4 years

Text

One Door Closes... (S.R.)

Type: one-shot, pretty much canon

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader Word count: 2700

Summary: For Steve, your door is always open... or he thinks so. And even when it isn’t, it is.

In which one small Zoom mishap leads to an (un)usual ‘welcome home’.

Warnings: brief mention of blood and violence, lightest angst, attempt at humour, crack-ish, fluff and language

A/N: For @anjali750, because this is totally her fault. Thank you for inspiring me :-* Have a little bit silly weekend reading, y’all!

“Tell me about it,” Steve encouraged you gently, soft smile playing in the corner of his mouth despite the pain it must be causing him due to his busted lip.

You couldn’t but grin at the lenient picture he made. Feeling blood rush to your cheeks at the thought of him probably calling you cute in his mind if his expression was anything to go by, you obliged, proceeding to tell him about the new project at work.

Your project. Because somehow, you finally earned your boss’ confidence and could bring the great ideas in your mind to life.

You felt so giddy just talking about it! So you started explaining, excitedly gesturing with your hands so Steve would get the right visual and you grew so enthusiastic that you almost forgot to keep an eye on him.

But you were watching him – always.

His lower lip was split, but already healing – it would have healed much faster if he stopped tugging at the healing skin whenever he talked or smiled at you from the screen. He looked a little drowsy, a shadow of a bruise forming on his cheek, but as far as you knew, those were the only injuries he had; that and many hours of sleep to catch up on.

Steve had a habit of calling you via Zoom whenever he got back to the Tower from a mission. He usually took a quick shower and was online until the last second before he had to leave for a debriefing; the only reason why he didn’t head straight to your place.

He admitted once that he loved seeing your face and talking to you even if for a moment after a mission, that it grounded him. On a very sappy and loveable moment, he even called you his sun; and the fact that after few minutes of being with you – as much as technology allowed – his face always seemed brighter, made you think that it truly was how he felt.

Even exhausted as he was now, you could tell his half-lidded eyes shined with life unlike when you started the call.

And so you kept rambling, feeling your heart bursting with love for your man and with euphoria, because goddammit, finally some recognition at work!

“Well, obviously, to reach as much general public as we can, we’re gonna launch a world-wide campaign! World-wide!” you emphasized with a blinding grin, throwing your hands wide to demonstrate.

---and your fingers caught in a cord from the laptop, pulling at it.

Steve’s benevolent face disappeared as your screen went black.

Because of course it did.

You had been talking yourself into buying a new laptop or at least having this one fixed for a few weeks now, because this was always the result whenever you accidently unplugged it. The battery was useless, ready to retire.

“Motherfu--- ugh!“

You wanted to be mad at the device – but this was totally on you.

Sighing, you hooked up the laptop again, waiting for it to wake up from a coma, shooting Steve an apologetic text in the meantime. Closing your eyes, you let your forehead lightly fall against your desk, mentally cursing yourself.

Dummy. If you only weren’t so lazy… and didn’t hate certain aspects of adulting with so much passion… you could have been talking to Steve-

Your eyes flew opened when it felt like it was quiet for too long; no reply to your text. Dread filled you and you quickly reached for your phone again, this time to dial.

You prayed you were wrong; but as the phone kept ringing with no one to answer it on the other end, you felt misery creep up you back and whimpered. Sliding your phone on the tabletop, your not-so-deft fingers stumbled over the keyboard, harshly welcoming it into the world of living by opening Zoom again to reconnect the call.

Your breath hitched in anticipation as the window opened---

An amused and yet somehow unimpressed face of Natasha Romanoff welcomed you and this time, you didn’t bother slowing down as your head hit the desk. It hurt, but that was only a presage of the real pain.

“Nooooooo,” you whined loudly, faking and not quite faking a sob, because shit.

“Oh yes,” Natasha hummed nonchalantly.

You straightened a bit in your chair, narrowing your eyes at her as you noticed the corners of her lips twitching while she pretended to be busy checking out her possibly-mission-broken nails.

“It’s not funny.”

She snorted and glanced at your no doubt desperate face.

“It really is. But also kinda sad,” the spy noted, something resembling concern flickering over her face before she scrunched her nose, irises twinkling. “And disgustingly cute. It has Rogers written all over it.”

You glared at her some more, not even bothering to roll your eyes.

“Tell that to my landlord,” you muttered under your breath, leaning your elbow on the tabletop and dropping your chin to you palm. A second later, a brilliant idea hit you and you tried to manipulate your legs from under you.

The thing was, even if you had a pretty good idea of what was coming if you didn’t stop it and knew that it would be a bitch to deal with, Natasha was right.

In a way, it was utterly cute, disarmingly charming and entirely heart-warming. Your stomach fluttered, the fabled butterflies flipping their wings, your face grew hot and your heart… well, it felt as if it was growing in size.

It was also sad, heart-breaking even; Steve, especially after a mission, was a man running on instincts. It was one of the reasons why he had developed a habit of calling you, why he wanted to hear you ramble about your either boring or exciting but always wonderfully normal day. A day which involved no shooting and no blood besides papercuts and a quarrel with your stubborn boss who shoot you glares at best.

On a mission, these carnal automatisms often meant survival. But back home, Steve didn’t want to be a sum of instincts of survival, fight and fear; he wanted to feel again. And with you, he did. He wasn’t just a Captain America, a soldier to be put on battlefield whenever the general found fit. He was a human being. A wonderful one at that, with beautiful soul.

So yes. It was also rather upsetting.

And in a way, it was a little funny too. You knew it was totally your fault and that Steve was being kinda ridiculous, because he knew you and your inclination to wild gesticulations ending up catastrophically. On top of that, he was aware of this particular problem being almost a daily occurrence; hell, he tried to talk you into having Stark look at your laptop and failed.

And now... well. Here you were.

“You know, maybe if you get up and welcome him with door opened…” Natasha teased you with your own genius ides and you grinded your teeth, frantically trying to move your foot, which was pretty much on fire and yet dead.

“I would, but I… eh, pins and needles, was sitting on my feet,” you explained, embarrassed, testing whether your feet could carry you or not, naturally finding that without support, you’d be down before you could take as much as a step.

This time, Natasha didn’t snort in amusement.

Instead, she graced you with an outburst on honest full belly laughter, her red hair unfairly shiny for a woman who just spend week on a mission in damn Moldova and probably kicked more asses that you could imagine.

“You know what, Romanoff…” you grunted, forcing yourself to wobble towards the door. Very slowly. And cautiously. Knowing your luck, you might actually get hurt.

“I’m not even sorry,” she choked out and then continued to howl in laughter. “You so deserve each other. I finally know what the ‘idiots in love’ mean. Thanks for that!”

“You’re very welcome,” you huffed, voice dripping with irony.

Finally able to put full weight on both of your feet, you headed towards the exit – and entrance – of your apartment.

Halfway, you decided it was a lost cause. You would be willing to bet that the moment you’d touch the doorknob, you’d get hit to your face. It wasn’t worth it.

Yes, maybe if you did get hurt, it would make Steve think twice before coming all guns-and-shield blazing into your apartment; then again, it would probably cost you a broken nose.

Not to mention Steve’s tendency to get swallowed by the enormity of his guilt.

So not worth it. Best if you stayed put.

That was what you kept telling yourself when you stood there for about two minutes, in which you’d be able to open the door about forty times. Your annoyance – mostly with yourself and the cackling redhead – and the anticipation was becoming unbearable. As seconds ticked by, you were trying to convince yourself into taking the last few steps and opening the door and save yourself some trouble---

You yelped when the loud bang rattled your apartment the door sent flying of their hinges along with a spray of powered plaster despite knowing it was coming.

A glint of metal appeared next, the striking red, white and blue no longer there as it was covered in more bland colours for stealth missions.

And then a large figure cladded in blue shirt and grey jeans entered, his chest heaving, face flushed with red. Piercing blue eyes wiped of all previous traces of tiredness scanned the room, instantly falling on you as you awkwardly stood there, dumbfounded, startled and utterly speechless.

Also, much to Steve’s puzzlement, you were perfectly fine otherwise – even with both legs functioning, no remnants of pins and needles present.

Steve eased his posture instantly, eyes narrowing and then widening as he looked you up and down, lips parting in genuine surprise – and relief.

He said your name, clear and almost reverent, dropping the shield on the floor with a clang.

The ‘hi babe’ got stuck in your throat as you could see the tension leaving his shoulders, his eyes turning glassy and absent despite relief rolling off him in damn tsunami waves.

It hit you like a train – that you were delighted to see him, actually see him, even under these circumstances; and you truly didn’t want him to withdraw to some freaky brain-space after he had probably got one of the most ridiculous scares of his life due to the fact that his brain was not fully back in the normal world.

In the normal world where you abruptly disconnected a call without warning, because you talked too animatedly and not because some terrorist high on the FBI’s, CIA’s, NSA’s and SHIELD’s most wanted list found out you were Steve’s girlfriend and decided to take you out.

So to prevent another psychical horror trip of his, you went for distracting him – with a very relevant issue.

“You broke my door.”

Steve blinked, gaze refocusing on you fully, simply staring for a long moment.

“You went offline,” he objected quietly, a hint of accusation in his voice. God, you missed his voice.

“You broke my door, Steve.”

As if hearing his name was a spell, his frozen figure came to life and he took a cautious step closer, repeating his previous statement, this time with a hint of guilt.

“You went offline.”

“And you broke my door. That’s the second time this month, Steve! My landlords gonna k--- be real pissed at me,” you corrected yourself in the last second, not wanting say kill.

Steve ignored the slip and apparently got the message, his face twisting in genuine apology. “I’m sorry. I’ll fix it!”

With efficiency of a supersoldier, he spun on his heels and rushed to pick up the door as if it was lighter than a paperweight and swiftly put it in place.

Only for the door to slowly tilt his way again. He caught it with a loud curse and moved it aside, leaning it partly against the wall. The action sent more plaster down onto the floor, like the only truly white snow in New York City. Peripherally, you noticed Steve grimacing, his face an expression an epitome of yikes.

You let your eyes slipped shut, shaking your head with a sigh, but couldn’t but chuckle. When you looked at Steve again, he resembled a 240 pounds giant Labrador puppy, truly regretful, approaching you reluctantly as if he was afraid you would slap his big paws for being clumsy.

What he would deserve was for you to clip round his ear for impulsiveness, but could you blame him? God knew what he had seen in Moldova in the past week, what horrors he had lived through and what a nightmare his mind had created when you ‘went offline’.

Him barging in like this due to your own dumbassery was kinda sad; a prove of his demanding job full of terror.

It was cute and heart-warming, because he just cared for you that much.

It was a little ridiculous, because as Steve finally crossed the distance between you two, the head of your elderly neighbour peeked from behind the empty doorway, puzzled and rather concerned.

You snorted unattractively, the scene in front of you seeming epically hilarious all of sudden.

“I’m good, Mr. T!” you called over Steve’s shoulder after the poor man who gossiped like an old woman and was just as hospitable. “Just my boyfriend fussing because of a technology fail!”

A grin spread on his wrinkled face; a testimony to years of laughter and amiability. “Oh. Hi, Mr. America!”

“Afternoon, Mr. T! I am verry sorry for disturbing you.”

The older-looking man waved off Steve’s politeness.

“It’s fine. You keep taking care of your lady, Mr. America, and keep her safe!”

“Yes, sir,” Steve humoured him with a salute, earning a wink.

As your neighbour walked away with a fresh topic for his Sunday tea party, Steve turned his attention to you again, eyes searching, wide, apologetic – but also soft, taking in the view of you, revelling in it.

“Hi, sweetheart,” he whispered lowly, the lopsided smile you loved so much gracing his face, once again pulling at that damn split lip. You grimaced a bit, the sight of him almost brining tears into your eyes; the gentleness and the remnants of fight punching you straight in the gut.

His eyes fluttered close when you lifted your hand and traced the line of the bruise on his face with the lightest pressure you were capable of. This time, tears definitely prickled in your eyes, but you blinked them away, cupping Steve’s cheek and pulling him close.

“Oh come here, babe,” you breathed out, fingers carding through his hair as he leaned his head on your shoulder, lips brushing the crook of your neck, strong arms embracing around your form.

He was warm and big and held you a bit tighter than necessary and dammit, you loved your sweet of heart and occasionally dumb of ass boyfriend. Boyfriend, who was crazy in love with you. Sometimes with emphasis on the crazy.

“I missed you, sweetheart,” he muttered, nose nuzzling the sensitive skin of your neck, breathing in deeply. You pretended it didn’t do things to you as he did everything to get lost in you and leave all the bad behind. You failed.

“You’re totally paying for fixing my door.”

Well, maybe not failed entirely.

“Of course,” Steve assured you dutifully, no hint of humour in his voice.

It broke you on a completely new level; he was serious. Dammit you loved this man!

“I missed you too,” you finally admitted and this time, he did chuckle, squeezing you even tighter, hand running up and down your back. Without any warning, he tightened his grip and lifted you from the floor so you had to cling to him entirely, causing you to gasp.

You never got the chance to gather your wits and comment on that, because an annoyed voice of a certain redhead sounded from your laptop.

“…alright, you crazy kids, you had your cuddles. Now, Rogers, should I tell Fury you’re coming back for the debriefing or should we just finally change with the times and do it over Zoom?”

Clutching Steve’s waist and shoulder, face contentedly in his chest, you voted for the latter.

Steve Rogers masterlist

Lovely divider by whimsicalrogers.

A fic from collection ‘This was supposed to be a drabble.’ Also, I couldn’t for the love of god figure out a better title.

I hope you enjoyed at least a bit :-*

Thank you for reading!

#fanfiction #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers x you #steve rogers #captain america #captain america x reader #captain america x you #captain america imagine #steve rogers fluff #captain america fluff #steve rogers fanfiction #captain america fanfiction #marvel #mcu #one door closes #anika ann

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13-reasons-ideas · 4 years

Note

Hey, I love your stories and your style of writing 💕 I was wondering if you could write one on Scott Reed, along the storyline of the series, where the reader was Jeff's girlfriend until his death, and Scott is there by her side and starts to get along with her, but he's hesitant to make a move because he was pretty close to Jeff as well?

MOVING FORWARD?

A/N: Trigger warning: character death. I hope you like this. I tried to focus more on the process of moving forward with little snippets. I’m sorry this took a while, I had to make the parts flow together and it was challenging. I wrote and rewrote it a few times. Sorry if spacing is off, I tried to fix it as best I could. You’ll want tissues and maybe a snack. It’s a long one.

SEPTEMBER

“Babe, you don’t have to go. I can go get more beer. You stay here with your friends.” I asked Jeff, who was getting his coat to go on a beer run. Jessica’s party was in full swing and everyone was here. Even Clay Jensen came, to most people’s surprise.

“(Y/N), I’m good. I’ve been drinking Coke all night. I’ll see you in a few. I love you.”

I sighed as I looked up at his beaming face, “okay, fine. I’ll see you in twenty. Drive safe, I love you too.” I kissed him softly and watched as he jogged out to the car to run to Blue Spot. I decided to go off in search of my friends and found them in the kitchen, arguing with Scott and Monty about who should get the last beer.

“Ah, finally. Someone who can break the stalemate. (Y/N), who do you think should get it?” Scott asked me.

“Easy. Me.” I smiled, taking the bottle from the table and opening it.

“But- you… you don’t even like beer.” Layla stuttered.

“I know, but it saves me from watching the four of you argue until Jeff gets back. I’m sure you can last,” I checked my watch, “fourteen minutes without a beer.” The boys groaned and Layla turned to Katie, sighing dramatically. I shook my head as I walked away.

I was alone for a while, just wandering the house. I had seen Clay run out of the party a while ago, followed by Sherri and Hannah a while after that. I played with my necklace, a gift from Jeff for our first anniversary, just people watching, the bottle of Coors still full in my hand. My phone buzzing in my pocket pulled me from my thoughts. “hello?” I asked, not bothering to look at who was calling. I assumed it was Jeff calling to confirm how much beer he needed to get.

“(Y/N)? (Y/N/N)- you- oh fuck.”

“Who is this?”

“I-it’s Clay. (Y/N) you… oh god. I called 911 already. There’s been an accident.” No. No no no. Please don’t say what I think you’re about to say. “J-Jeff.” His voice cracked. I heard sirens in the distance. I felt as though I was frozen. “Th-the police are here; they want to talk to me. They’re calling his parents. Oh god (Y/N/N). I have to go.”

“Clay. Clay wait. What happe-.” I tried to ask. He hung up before I could get any words out. It was almost like I had an out of body experience. I lowered my phone and felt the full bottle fall from my grip, shattering on the floor. No one was around to notice, or at least, I couldn’t see if there was. I had tunnel vision. Jeff… he can’t… no.

I blinked quickly a few times to try and make my vision normal, as well as keeping the welling tears from falling. Need to find sports boy. I couldn’t think of the proper words. Walking back towards the kitchen, I scanned the room for someone in a varsity jacket or a face I could identify as an athlete, hell, I scanned for Monty’s plaid shirt. Something like this should trump the stupid fight we had earlier today. I spotted him over by the fridge, talking to some girl. “Monty.” I said quietly as I approached him. He didn’t hear me. “Monty.” I tried again, a little louder. He still didn’t hear me, or he heard me and chose to ignore it. “Montgomery.” I said louder, my voice cracking and placing a hand on his bicep. He froze for a second.

“One second.” He told the girl he was putting the moves on. I watched him turn to face me. As soon as he saw my face, his mouth closed, and his brow furrowed. “(Y/N), are you okay?” Monty asked me, his eyes softening and his demeanor changing almost immediately. I couldn’t get any words out now that I had found someone to tell. I just shook my head and waved my arms awkwardly. “(Y/N/N), did something happen? What happened?”

I opened my mouth and my voice cracked. It felt like my throat was trying to open around a peach pit. “J-Jeff….” Was all I could say. My face crumpled and my eyes squeezed shut, trying my damnedest to keep from crying or screaming. “He… there was an accident.” Monty’s entire face dropped.

“What kind of accident?”

“I don’t know. I don’t think it’s good Monty. We have to… I have to….” I trailed off, trying to find the words to explain that we needed to leave.

“(Y/N) you need to breathe. Let’s go find the guys. Come on.” He said, his face hardening as he pulled me along beside him. I turned to look at the girl he walked away from. She looked royally miffed.

“Scott. Where’s Bryce?” Monty asked his friend. I stood behind him, clutching his shirt tightly to keep myself upright. Had it been any other time, I think he would have minded.

“I don’t know, I think he went upstairs. Why?”

“We need to go.”

Scott looked between Monty and I. “Uh… do you need permission to leave now or something?”

“No Scott. We need to go.” Scott looked at me again and he seemed to register the look on my face as not simply having too much to drink. Monty leaned forward to whisper something to Scott. His eyes widened and he sucked in a deep breath.

“Okay. Uh… I’m good to drive, so you go upstairs and look for Bryce and Justin and whoever else. I’ll take (Y/N) to the car.” I clutched Monty’s shirt tighter.

“(Y/N), you need to let go. I’ll be right back. Go with Scott.” He told me, prying my fingers off his person. I heard myself hum and felt Scott guide me out to the car.

He opened the door and guided me to sit down in the passenger seat. “Do you want some water?” he asked, squatting down to my level. I nodded and he went around to the driver’s side. I turned to watch him root around in his gym bag for a water bottle. He walked back around to me and handed me the fresh bottle. I opened it and took a small sip. He watched me, steadying it when I shook too much. My phone rang again, and I looked down to see who it was. Jeff’s mom was calling. “Hello?” I asked, timidly.

“(Y/N)? Darling, you need to come to the hospital. There was an accident.” She told me, her voice shaking. I could tell she was trying to get the words out without crying.

“I know. Clay called me. We will be there soon.” I looked up as I saw the group of athletes walking out, confused and somber looks on their faces. Scott waved them over. “Okay. We are on our way to the regional hospital. Let one of us know when you get there and we will come down to get you.”

I nodded before realizing that she couldn’t see me. “Mhmm. I will.” I squeaked before hanging up. I felt several dozen eyes on me as I stared at my lap. “They’re going to the regional hospital.” Was all I said as I turned myself forward and shut the door. It was quiet for a few moments before Scott came around and started the car.

Neither of us spoke until we were about halfway to the hospital. I felt my stomach churn the closer we got. “You need to pull over.” I told Scott stiffly.

“You okay (Y/N)?” he asked, his eyes darting to me and back to the road.

“Pull over now.” I ground out, trying to keep from heaving.

“Okay, just a second.” He signalled to pull over and stopped the car. In a matter of seconds, I had the door open and was hunched over on the side of the road, throwing up in the ditch. Diego and Monty pulled over as well when they saw me, and I heard Diego call from the Jeep.

“Is she okay? Or like… she’s okay?”

I groaned. “I’ve got her, you guys go on ahead.” Scott called back. I wiped my mouth and stood up straight, sending Monty a thumbs up. He nodded and merged back into traffic. I walked back to the car, taking a gulp of water, swishing and spitting it on the road.

“We can go.” I said and it was quiet again.

Arriving at the hospital and calling Jeff’s mom was a blur. It was also a blur waiting for the doctor and watching his parents argue that I should be there to hear what was happening. I stared at the wall blankly while I waited for news. Some of the guys whispered around me, others prayed, others like me, stared blankly. Finally, the doctor agreed to let me listen and I walked over at the wave of a nurse. The nurse took me into the small room I remembered being in when I was young, and my grandma had passed.

“Mr. and Mrs. Atkins, Miss (Y/L/N). I am very sorry to have to tell you this, but Jeff passed away at the scene of the accident. I am sorry for your loss.” I closed my eyes as his mom dropped to the floor and screamed. His dad dropped and pulled his distraught wife into his arms. I took a breath and turned to run from the room. I ran down the hall, ignoring the group in the waiting room. “(Y/N), wait.” I heard someone call behind me. I ignored them. I also ignored the footsteps following me. I have to get out of here was running over and over in my head. I stopped running when I got outside and bent over, placing my hands on my knees. I gulped the air, trying to slow my heartrate and put off the impending breakdown.

“(Y/N)?” a voice spoke from behind me. I shook my head. I knew who was talking to me, but I couldn’t make myself speak. “Come here.” Bryce said gently, as though I was a fawn he was trying to approach without spooking. I still couldn’t say anything. His hand gently touched my back and rubbed in circles. I began to stand up and his arms immediately went around my middle to support my weight in the event that I couldn’t stand up. He held me for a few minutes, while I shook and tried not to cry. I noticed Justin standing at the doors with a broken yet menacing look on his face.

“He’s gone.” I whispered quietly into the blond’s shoulder.

“I know. Let’s go back inside, yeah? Get you some water and have someone take you home?” I hummed as he tucked me under his shoulder, supporting my weight.

The group of heartbroken boys were still in the waiting room with Jeff’s parents. I couldn’t bring myself to make eye contact with them. Monty walked up to Bryce and took me from him.

“I’ll take her home.”

“Stay with her.” Diego told him, placing a hand on my shoulder and squeezing. Monty nodded and took his flannel off, wrapping me up in it. I took one last look at his parents before turning and walking away, not daring to think of how I was going to have to begin the grieving process for my boyfriend.

I walked up to the school doors on Monday morning and stood there, just looking at it. I was early so there weren’t many people outside, but those who were, stared at me and whispered to each other. Jeff’s baseball shirt hung off my thin frame and my black yoga pants hugged my curves, hidden by the shirt. It seemed to be bigger than it was a few days ago. “Are you going to go inside, or do you want to cut today?” Monty asked from behind me.

I jumped slightly. “I’ll be there in a minute. I have to be here today.”

“Okay. I’ll wait with you.” He stood beside me quietly until I was ready to walk in. I took a step forward and then another, and another. He fell into step beside me. People stared as I walked in. I guess I should get used to it.Principal Bolan and Mr. Porter were waiting for me at the main office.

“(Y/N), if there is anything the school can do, just let me know and I will handle it.” The principal said. Yeah, sure you will.

“Thank you.” I replied, quietly. He nodded and walked back into his office. The appeasing statement has been made. Let’s not appear to care too much.

“(Y/N), you don’t need to be here today. You’ve suffered a great loss. Your teachers would understand why you weren’t here.” Mr. Porter offered.

I stared at him. Is he serious? “I know you’re trying to help and that’s great. But I do need to be here today.” I explained.

“Why?”

“I heard he was drinking, and she let him get in the car anyway.” A girl I had never met muttered to her friend as she passed me. Monty must have seen my features darken and he placed a hand on my shoulder, squeezing. I gestured to Mr. Porter.

“That is why. I need to get ahead of this. Jeff is-,” I caught myself, “was a wonderful and well-loved young man, but the kids at this school don’t care about that. If I wasn’t here, the rumors would be even worse.”

Mr. Porter nodded; he had been here long enough to know how people were. “Alright, but if you want to talk or decide you need to go home, come let me know.” I nodded at him and together, Monty and I walked to my locker.

“Did he really say, ‘you don’t need to be here today’? Like he actually fucking said that?” I asked.

“Yup. I heard it too.” Monty said, shaking his head. Clay stopped us in the hall, and I tried to smile at him. It came out as more of a grimace.

“Hey Clay. How’re you doing?”

“I don’t know. How are you doing?”

“I changed my shirt this morning. So that’s something I guess.” I shrugged.

“I’m really sorry (Y/N).”

“I know. Me too. Jeff really liked you, you know.”

“Yeah.” Neither of us knew what else to say. “I uh… I’ll see you around?”

“You will. Let me know if,” I paused, “if you want to talk sometime.”

“Okay.” He nodded before making his way to wherever it is that Clay Jensen spends his time. I tried to ignore the whispers as I sighed.

“This day isn’t going to get any easier.” I muttered. Monty shrugged as we walked. No one else really said anything to me as we walked, all of them grieving in their own ways.

“She isn’t left alone today, okay?” I heard Bryce tell the rest of the athletes, who had crowded around my locker. I had to stop myself from speaking up and telling him that I’m not a child and I can take care of myself. Instead, I readjusted my bag on my shoulder.

“Hey Bryce. Guys.” I greeted somberly.

“Hey (Y/N).” Bryce greeted, equally as somberly. He pulled me into a slightly awkward but understandable hug. Bryce hugs people when they aren’t in shock? This is probably one of the strangest interactions I’ve had with Bryce Walker since… ever. I wasn’t sure what to do so I just patted his back gently. He pulled away and the group made room for me to get to my locker.

“You can all stop staring at me any time. It’s kind of creepy.” I said as I gathered my things. “I know this is a hard day for all of us, but that doesn’t mean you need to stare like everyone else.” When I turned back, they were still looking at me. “Seriously, stop. I’m not going to do anything stupid. I will however, go to my stupid physics class and learn about the laws of motion.” I put my textbooks in my bag and began walking away from my friends. When I didn’t hear any of them following, I turned around. “You coming Diego? Hutcher will get all bent out of shape if we are late, even under these circumstances.”

“I guess so, yeah.” He mumbled, confused before quickly catching up with me.

Between the sad looks from teachers, the boys and their girlfriends following me everywhere, and the whispers from students, my patience with today was beginning to wear thin. It was around lunch time when I heard two girls talking to each other. They must not have noticed I was walking past.

“She really seems to be milking this grieving girlfriend thing.”

“Lizzie, it’s been three days, give her a break. I wonder what it was like. Must have been-.” I had finally had enough.

“What what was like? What part would you like to know about? The part where I begged him not to leave? Or when I got a phone call from a kid freaking out? Would you like to know about what it was like gathering all the guy at that party and going to the hospital? Because it turns out a brother dying sobers you up pretty quick.” I paused and looked at their expressions. “No. No you don’t want to know about that. You want to know what it was like listening to his mom scream and cry and beg God to bring her son back. You want to hear about how I haven’t eaten in three days because I’ve been crying so much I can’t keep food down. And how everyone is staring at me and whispering because apparently Jeff Atkins’ death is inconvenient for them.” Before I could continue, I felt arms going around my waist and I was being pulled back.

“Easy there Ticat.” Scott Reed spoke into my ear. I struggled for a moment and he wrapped his arms around my waist tighter. Finally, I relaxed, and he let go. I watched him turn to the girls.

“She lost her boyfriend three fucking days ago. We lost a brother. Have some goddamn respect.” He scoffed and shook his head as he grabbed the bag I dropped and led me towards the door. The girls looked as though he slapped them as we walked away. He passed me his phone as we walked. “Call Monty.” I did as he said and put it on speaker.

“Hello?” Monty answered.

“Hey. I’m taking (Y/N) home.”

“Why? Is she okay?” He asked.

“She is. At least as okay as we can expect. It’s everyone else that’s the problem.” He grumbled.

“What happened?”

“I’ll explain later. Tell Porter she had to go home for me?”

“I will. Keep me posted?”

“Will do. Bye.” He took the phone from my hand and hung up. We had arrived at his car and he seemed to have calmed down a bit. “So, home?” I blinked at him, not totally understanding the question. “Where do you live?” He clarified, slowly.

“Oh uh… just off Lincoln and sixth.” I replied. He nodded and got in the car. I followed suit and stared out the windshield. “That was… something.”

“Yeah well it’s been a long day.”

“I think they’ll be long for a while.”

“Me too.” He replied, sadly. “You don’t want to go home do you?” he asked, suddenly. I was quiet for a while before answering.

“Not really no. My parents are at work and they’ve just been hovering since Monty brought me home. But it’s so quiet.”

“I can stay if you want. I’m not the greatest cook in the world but I can manage soup broth.”

“You don’t want to go home?”

“No. Bryce may be a dick a lot of the time, but he’s right. You shouldn’t be left alone today. And I can guarantee that I am far better company than some of the other guys. We don’t have to talk or anything. If you’re not comfortable with that, I can call Monty back or one of your other, uh… friends?”

“You mean Layla and Katie? They aren’t really my friends. Have you seen or heard from them today at all? Because I haven’t.”

“I haven’t. Why do you hang out with them then?”

“Why do you spend time with Bryce Walker, Scott?”

“Fair point.” He replied, dropping the subject.

We got closer to my house and I spoke again. “It’s the slightly darker grey one up ahead here.”

“As opposed to the slightly lighter grey houses?” Scott joked. It was a really bad joke, but I felt myself start to smile slightly for the first time in days.

“Well, yeah.” I stated, biting the inside of my lip slightly to keep a straight face. He must have caught himself smiling slightly too because he quickly relaxed his face back to the somewhat somber expression, we all wore today.

“Heard that one before?”

“Yeah. Jeff joked about it a lot.” I smiled sadly at the memory. We were silent again as he pulled into my driveway and we walked to the door. Our stuff was arranged neatly by the door and we made our way through the house to the kitchen. Evidently, he wasn’t kidding about the soup thing.

“Okay, where do you keep your pots?” He asked, clapping his hands together.

“Bottom cupboard by the stove.” I pointed. I’m really not hungry and this really isn’t a good idea. He nodded and set to work searching the kitchen for ingredients.

I decided to leave him be as he fell into what was clearly his zone. When I was upstairs, I decided it might be time to have a shower and clean some of the sadness off of me. It doesn’t work like that (Y/N). I shook my head. You think I don’t know that? I just need to do something that feels normal. Once I was showered and changed into a clean sweatshirt and bike shorts, I made my way downstairs. At the sound of my footsteps, Scott looked up. “I made you a sandwich. You don’t have to eat it if you don’t want, but it’s there.” I nodded and sat at the island in front of the bowl of hot soup broth. I took a timid sip from my spoon and sighed. This is really good.

“Thank you.” I muttered quietly. He nodded at me as he took a bite of his own sandwich. We ate in silence across from each other. Scott wasn’t lying when he said we didn’t have to talk if I didn’t want to. Once our lunch was done, he pulled out a notebook and did some homework at the table while I turned on the tv at a low volume, pretending to be interested in some soap opera that had been on longer than I’d been alive. Just like this morning, I pretended not to notice his not so discreet looks to check on me. He didn’t leave until just before my mom got home from work. We bid each other a slightly awkward goodbye and I breathed a sigh of relief that I could finally be alone for a few minutes.

The next couple of days at school weren’t much better. Bryce was still being… nice, which I found slightly odd. It wasn’t nice in a creepy way or anything like that. He seemed to genuinely be nice. He walked me to my first class since his was next door, keeping a respectable distance between us at all times. If he saw me in the halls, he would wave at me or nod in acknowledgement. At first, I thought he was being weird, but when I talked to Monty about it, he just shrugged. “This might be how he’s choosing to grieve. Focus on being nice to you and making sure you know someone is there.”

“I get that, but its Bryce. Usually when he’s nice to a girl….”

“I know. He’s annoying and says stupid shit. But he’s my best friend. I know him. He’s actually trying to be nice to you. Jeff was his friend.”

I sighed. “Okay. I’m not going to start hanging out with him or anything though. If he’s your best friend, what does that make me?”

“My person or whatever.” He muttered, going back to his geometry problem.

“I knew you paid attention when we watched that.” I muttered as I went back to my biology notes.

The stares weren’t much different, but it seemed like it had started really setting in for people by now. Jeff Atkins, one of their classmates, their idols, their friend, was gone. The snarky whispers stopped, but I wasn’t sure if that was because of my outburst on Monday morning or not. I noticed Hannah Baker watching me at my locker during breaks, but I didn’t pay much mind to it. She’s the girl Clay is in love with and Jeff wanted them to get together sure, but that girl had more going on than met the eye. Jessica and Justin seemed more lovey than usual which sucked to watch but whatever works for them I suppose. Justin and Bryce’s relationship seemed kind of off, but I attributed it to some stupid high school bullshit or having different ways of dealing with death. Diego and I hadn’t ever been super close or friendly at all, but he was friends with Jeff and Monty, so I had been around him. When we stopped to talk in the halls or anything, he talked to me just like he always had. We kept it to small talk and school related topics. I was grateful he wasn’t walking on eggshells and trying not to say the wrong thing.

Scott Reed was the one person I couldn’t wrap my head around though. We were kind of sort of friends. More than acquaintances, but not friends, friends. More, you’re friends with my boyfriend and best friend so that’s something, friends. We had also worked on group projects together in the past. He seemed to be stuck between trying to help me and being scared to talk to me. I would catch him looking at me from his locker but he would look away quickly in the mornings, but then at lunch or when the halls were quiet, he would try to make me smile or laugh. It was very confusing, especially with my head being so clouded by grief. I knew he wasn’t trying to make any moves or anything. It’s probably just the way he’s processing things. Maybe he’s trying to avoid the issue and this is how he wants to do it. We didn’t mention our afternoon at my house on Monday, nor did he insert himself into any grief related outbursts that may or may not have occurred in the last few days. You need to stop thinking so much. This is too much to deal with right now.

** **

I hadn’t retained anything we had talked about in school this week. I was too busy dreading this day. I stared at the classic black dress hanging on the door of my closet. It stared back, mockingly. I was in my room, hair freshly curled and pulled out of my face, neutral makeup on, doing all I could to not think about what my plans for the day were going to be just over a week ago. It was shocking how fast plans could change. Instead of a relaxing walk and maybe a game of catch with my boyfriend before dinner, I was getting dressed for his funeral. I rolled my eyes up to try to keep the tears at bay for just a little longer. A knock at my door redirected my attention. “Hey.” Monty said from the door. He leaned against the door frame, likely wrinkling his black suit.

“Hey.” I replied. I sighed and shook my head.

“Are we getting dressed or are we going to stand here hoping it dresses you on its own?” he asked, stepping into my room.

“I don’t know.”

“Your folks are downstairs waiting for you.”

“That’s good.”

“Do you want a drink?” I turned around to face him as he pulled a silver flask out of his inside jacket pocket.

“No. Need to be sober for this.”

He nodded and took a swig of whatever it contained. Today wasn’t the day to argue with him about drinking before eleven. “Do you need help with the dress or are you good?”

“I think I’ll need you to zip it up.” I muttered, motioning for him to sit on my bed as I took the dress off its hanger, going into my closet to change. I didn’t look in the mirror as I passed it on the way to my bed. He zipped it up deftly. I again, decided not to make a comment about how he wasn’t usually zipping dresses up.With that taken care of, I slipped on my black pumps and turned around to look in the mirror. “Do I look okay Monty?” I asked, pulling on my sleeves slightly, trying to cover up a little more. He placed his hand on mine to stop me.

“You look beautiful (Y/N). Stop fiddling with it and let’s go downstairs.”

“I don’t want to.” I replied, my voice cracking. Don’t cry. Do not cry.

“I know. But we need to.” He sighed. “Everyone will be there. If it makes you feel better, I can even talk to the Jensen kid.”

“Clay. And I don’t know if it would honestly.” Before we went downstairs, I asked him, “can I take you up on your offer of flask juice?”

“Not right now. You said you have to stay sober for this.”

I sighed for what felt like the millionth time today and walked downstairs, clutching the railing as I went so that I didn’t topple over.

Jeff’s parents asked if I wanted to come early so I could have some alone time to say goodbye to Jeff. When we arrived at the church, his parents, the Priest, and the funeral director met us out front. Jeff’s dad pulled me into a tight hug and whispered apologies in my ear. I rubbed his back softly and apologised back. His mom was quick to pull me in as well. “I’ll always consider you akin to a daughter, (Y/N).” She whispered. I had to fight back tears when she squeezed tighter before letting me go.

“I’m very sorry for your loss.” Father Carmichael said as he took my hand gently. They were warmer than I expected for a man his age.

“Thank you.” I mumbled. The sentiment was shared by the funeral director and I was ushered off to the waiting hearse. The back door was opened, and I stared at the shiny walnut casket filling the space. It almost didn’t believe what I was seeing. It didn’t seem real. I placed a hand on the varnished wood, noting how smooth it felt.

“This can’t be happening.” I muttered softly. I paused to wait for a response I knew would never come. “We promised each other we would have forever.” There was more I wanted to say but the tears were becoming impossible to stop. I hoped that he knew everything I wanted to say already. I wiped my tears quickly before turning around and waiting for the pallbearers to arrive. We were ushered into the church before other people arrived.

“(Y/N), would you like to sit with the family? You practically are to us.” Jeff’s mom asked as my parents went to get some water.

“Umm,” I paused and turned to Monty. He shrugged and nodded. “I guess that would be okay.” I replied, not completely sure of my answer.

“Alright sweetie.” She hugged me again and turned as the pallbearers began arriving. I watched on as the funeral director explained procedure to them. His parents and I were led out of the church once again to follow the casket into the chapel.

The church was packed full. I could hear the quiet loud of a large group chattering with one another at the door. I quickly shut the door on the original idea of a large gathering in this little church. Oh, how that day would have been so different than today. My dad wouldn’t already be seated inside, I wouldn’t be wearing black, Jeff would be standing at the alter instead of…. Suddenly we were watching the group of young men carry the heavy casket up the church steps. His cousins were trying to keep their tears in but couldn’t help the few that slid out. His uncle had tears streaming down his face. I took a deep breath and began following his mom and dad into the church. When I got to the doors leading to the chapel, I froze. I couldn’t make my feet move. Once again, I was bombarded with what should have been. I could feel people’s eyes on me but try as I might, I simply could not move. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw movement coming around the last pew. Scott was standing at my side in a moment.

“One foot in front of the other.” He muttered as he held his arm out slightly. I grasped it, probably too tightly, but he didn’t even flinch. Together, he walked me towards the alter. I didn’t bother to think about what people would say about it. People here weren’t that callous. I took my seat and took a deep breath as he quickly made his way back to his seat.

Father Carmichael performed a wonderful service for Jeff. I felt tears streaming down my face the whole time. When it was over, I excused myself to the washroom to fix my makeup and have a moment to myself. As expected, Monty was waiting for me when I was done. Not as expected, was the addition of Scott waiting with him. I cleared my throat and pointed to my face. “You’re good.” Monty said, after a quick once over.

“Okay.” I nodded. I turned my attention to Scott. “um… thank you. For what you did in there.” I told him, awkwardly.

“It was no problem. That couldn’t have been easy.” He said. I shook my head. It wasn’t.

“Are we going to Jeff’s after this?” Monty asked me. I paused. I should. I really should go. I just don’t know if I can.

“I don’t… know?” I hesitated.

“You could show up for a few minutes, make a quick round, and say you need to be alone.” Scott suggested. I looked up at him. Could I really do that?

“That’s not actually a bad idea.” Monty replied, rubbing his jaw in thought. “We could go to the docks afterwards.”

“Flask empty yet?” I asked.

“(Y/N) (Y/L/N). We are in a church.” He gasped, scandalously.

“I don’t mean for now. And that’s rich coming from you. When was the last time you cracked open your Bible Montgomery?” He was silent and avoided eye contact. “Exactly.”

“It’s not. But it’s not like we can’t refill it if we need to.”

“Okay. Let’s go.” I nodded. I put on another brave face as we walked out of the church on the way to the grave site to lay Jeff to rest.

We made a quick appearance at the house, during which Bryce gave me another sad hug and I smiled awkwardly at people when they gave me the look I had become so familiar with in the last week. I was able to excuse myself and leave quietly with Monty and Scott in tow. The three of us made our way to the docks, after a quick stop at my place for a flask refill and extra bottle of vodka. I sat on the railing, staring out at the ocean, blankly. My companions flanked me on either side. The metal flask was passed silently between us until it was decided that I was “thoroughly fucked up” as Monty put it. The burn of the alcohol had stopped bothering me long before that.

“I cannot deny that statement.” I said, watching the waves.

“Ready to go home then (Y/N/N)?”

I turned my head to face him with wide eyes, “no. What do you think my parents would say if I showed up at home drunk?”

“Today?” Scott asked.

“I think, given the day you’ve had, they would understand. Plus, you were hanging out with me so they know you’re safe.” Monty shrugged.

“It’s the middle of the day. And you have been drinking since before eleven. There is no way you can drive right now.” I closed my eyes to stop the spinning in my head.

“I can drive. I haven’t had that much to drink.” Scott offered. It was true. He spent most of his time with the flask, holding it in his hand.

“See? Scott can drive. It’ll be fine. But if you scratch my car, I’ll beat you.” Monty threatened.

“Sure, you will Monty.” Scott laughed. We spent the rest of the day driving around town until I sobered up enough to go home, where I fell asleep as soon as I laid on my bed.

OCTOBER/NOVEMBER

The rest of September and much of October went by in a blur. I often found myself wondering if this was going to be my life now. Was I always going to be the girl whose boyfriend died? The staring stopped after a few weeks. And a couple of weeks after that, people started to move on. It was deemed socially acceptable for everyone else to continue living their lives. Sheri Holland stopped making weird eye contact with me. I wonder what that is about. Clay had seemed to stop openly pining over Hannah Baker. The guys were able to find ways to fill their time without being upset about Jeff. Everything was so… normal. The only person who wasn’t allowed to move on, it seemed, was me.

Everything was normal. Until Hannah Baker’s suicide. In the span of two months, Liberty had lost two students. Being a year older than her, we seemed to be more removed from the situation. It was still sad though. Especially when I watched how it was impacting Clay Jensen. Jeff had taken the boy under his wing while he was being tutored. I had asked him about it one night while we were on a date. Jeff had replied in his usual, happy go lucky glass half full tone, that “Clay is helping me with my grades and I’m helping him with Hannah. They’re good for each other.” I smiled fondly at the memory. Things were so much simpler then. People still looked at me in the halls. They still whispered when I passed. It became easier to ignore them. The drunk driving posters which had upset me so much when they were posted because I knew that Jeff wasn’t drinking that night, were replaced with suicide prevention posters. For the majority of my fellow seniors, Hannah Baker was just a girl. For me, she was just a girl. A girl who my late boyfriend tried to set up with his friend. It was tragic. But in my mind, it paled in comparison to the tragedy I had experienced only a month earlier.

Eventually, everyone else had gone back to normal. Except for Scott Reed. We had never really been friends. I still couldn’t wrap my head around it. And while I appreciated what he did for me, both at school and at the funeral, we didn’t talk about it. He still didn’t really say a whole lot to me. Yet somehow, he was always just… there. I would catch him watching me. Or I would notice his ears perk up when I was mentioned as the guys passed me in the halls. Montgomery of all people even noticed. “You know, Scott was asking about you at practice the other day. What’s going on there (Y/N/N)?” He mentioned to me in the library one day. I merely shrugged and waved it off.

“He hasn’t really talked to me, so I don’t know.”

He was watching me again. His eyes followed me as I grabbed a book for my paper in the library. Stare at me any harder and you might set me on fire. Rolling my eyes, I turned and plastered on my best and brightest smile. Scott looked down and suddenly became very interested in his own book when he noticed me walking towards him. I pulled out the chair across from him and leaned in. “What’s your deal, Scott?”

“My deal?” he said into his book.

“Why are you staring at me? And why do you act like you aren’t?”

“I don’t stare at you (Y/N).”

“Then what do you call watching someone from across the hall and across rooms? Hmmm?”

“I uh… don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Monty said you’ve been asking about me.”

He looked up. “He did?”

“Yeah. So, I’ll ask again, what is your deal?”

“Nothing.” He pushed his book aside.

“Sure. Whatever.” I huffed. Pulling out my books, I got comfortable. I’m already sitting here. Might as well take advantage. We were quiet for a while. He was trying not to watch me study. This is the most normal thing I’ve experienced in at least the last month.

“I just want to make sure you’re okay.”

“Oh.”

“He was my friend (Y/N).”

“I know. Thank you. For what you did for me. I realized I never said it before.”

“No problem.” The bell rang. Packing up our stuff, we wordlessly bid each other goodbye and went our separate ways.

That day in the library wasn’t the only time Scott and I studied together after that. One of us would find the other sitting alone at a table or looking for something in an aisle. Our interactions were mostly wordless. A nod here and there when we sat down. Maybe the odd whispered question about homework. A shared chuckle about something we read. We never talked about Jeff again though. It was too hard. Still too fresh for both of us.

Around the middle of November, our silent study sessions began to change. They got a little less quiet. It was like we were walking on soft dirt ground rather than eggshells. We started bringing snacks. “What’s in the bag today Har?”

“Mini pancakes, chocolate chips, and banana protein bites.” I said, as I opened the containers. I set them in the middle of the table so we could both reach. We were studying quietly, both of us focused on our respective assignments. I could feel his eyes on me.

“I thought we were past this Scotty.” I muttered, smiling into my book. It was Thursday. I did English homework in the library on Thursdays.

“Old habits and all.”

“Mhmm. Right.”

“Actually (Y/N)?”

“Yes Scott?”

“Did you want to grab a coffee at Monet’s or something later?” I stopped writing. His question caught me off guard. “As friends, obviously.” He added when he noticed my hesitation.

“Sure. Say 4:30?”

“4:30 works.”

“Okay.”

I met Scott at Monet’s just after 4:30. We had both gotten stuck behind the same accident. He held the door open for me and even conceded when I suggested we pay separately since it wasn’t a date. I got a triple americano with cream and he got a drip coffee with milk.

“It’s like quarter to five in the afternoon (Y/N).”

“I know. But this is my order.” Jeff did the same thing.

“I’m not judging.”

“It seems like you’re judging a little.” I smiled.

“Swear I’m not.” He chuckled. I nodded and took a sip of my coffee. We sat at an open booth near the coffee bar. It was far enough away from the table Jeff and I used to sit at that it felt okay to sit at.

Neither of us really knew where to start in a conversation. The ten minutes of silence we sat in, made it exceedingly clear that all we really had in common was Jeff and some shared classes. I decided to break the ice. “Aside from football, baseball, and making soup, what else do you like to do for fun?”

“Video games but I don’t think that’s the answer you’re looking for. Hmm. I like driving into the city to go to the movie theater and seeing whatever is playing next.”

“No, it wasn’t. Expected that answer. Random movies sounds cool.”

“Yeah. What about you?”

“I volunteer at the local animal shelter. What’s the weirdest movie you’ve ever seen doing that?”

“Central Intelligence, easy. It came out last year. It wasn’t a bad movie exactly. The Rock and Kevin Hart were in it. Just not my thing.”

“Huh. I heard about that one. My cousin went to see it. She didn’t like it much either.”

“Glad to know I’m not alone. What do you do at the shelter?”

“Oh, you know, walk the dogs and puppies. Pet the cats. Clean up the odd accident. Aside from that last one, it’s pretty nice. It’s the best when you see a friend who’s been there for a while or longer, finally get their forever family and forever home.”

“Oh yeah? What’s that like?”

“It’s hard to describe. Most of the dogs get this smile and almost are able to breathe normally again. The cats get cozy in their carriers or their box. It’s really adorable. They’re content.”

“That sounds like it’s really rewarding.”

“It is. You could swing by sometime if you want. See the animals.”

He seemed skeptical and I was worried I had overstepped. I know it’s been a while since I’ve dated, but this is just as friends. So I shouldn’t be worried about overstepping. “Are you sure that’s okay? Like you’re allowed to do that?” Oh, I see. That’s a relief.

“For sure. It gives them a chance to socialize. Don’t worry, the dogs and cats that have issues with people aren’t ready to be put on the adoption list or in the adoption section until they’re able to be around people safely. Any interaction with strangers is beneficial too so they aren’t as freaked when people come to look at them to potentially adopt. Plus, who doesn’t love to play with puppies and kittens?”

He laughed heartily. “I’ll think about it. Might have to take you up on your offer. What about the other animals?”

“Oh, I’m not really comfortable handling the birds and stuff so I kind of stay away from there. It’s not a problem for the shelter. They don’t want you to be uncomfortable or afraid.”

“That makes sense. You can tag along for a random movie sometime if you want.”

It was my turn to be slightly taken aback. “I’ll think about it. It sounds like a lot of fun.”

“Did you finish that already?” He nodded towards my now empty mug.

“Yes. It was delicious.”

Scott chuckled to himself softly. We still weren’t sure what to talk about, because we didn’t know what we had in common aside from Jeff and school. Somehow, we found things to talk about and the hour we expected turned into two. He looked at his watch. “My folks are expecting me for dinner in approximately no minutes. I should get going.” I checked my phone and my brows rose.

“I should get going too. Before they send the cavalry to find me.”

“Library tomorrow?”

“Yeah, sure Scott. I’ll see you there.” On my way home, I realized that for the first time in months, I hardly thought about Jeff this afternoon.

Our study sessions changed again after our not a date just friends’ coffee. Things were less awkward, and it seemed like we had found our footing for the most part. We talked to each other in the halls more and Scott had finally stopped watching me like a hawk. We were even cracking jokes with each other. He had begun treating me like everyone else was. Like I wasn’t going to break if he or someone else said the wrong thing. Like I was (Y/N) and not the girl whose boyfriend died.

DECEMBER

I arrived at school later than usual on a Tuesday morning. It had been a little under three weeks since our coffee not date. I immediately noticed Scott at his locker. His bag was slung over one shoulder and he was wearing his varsity jacket. He was talking to Mike. Mike was a senior in my Spanish class. I didn’t really know him all that well outside of that. I didn’t realize they were friends. When I walked past his locker, I overheard them talking about me.

“Why don’t you go for it and ask her?”

“I don’t know man. She’s really great and all but….”

“She was Jeff’s girlfriend. I get it.”

“He was my friend. I don’t want to overstep.”

“I know.” Mike said. I wanted to hear more of what they were saying so I bent down and undid the heel strap on my wedges. I fiddled with it while they talked. “This is going to sound horrible. I realize that so don’t hate me. I miss him as much as the next guy. I really do. But… Jeff isn’t here anymore, Scott. He’s gone.” You’re right Mike. That is horrible. “There isn’t really a line to overstep. It’s not like anyone can do anything to fix it. It just… is.”

“But do I want to be the guy who asks his dead friend’s girlfriend on a date?” A date? My cheeks flared. I couldn’t say that the idea hadn’t crossed my mind that Scott was an option. I had just felt absolutely terrible for it as soon as I did.

“Maybe you need to be. Maybe that could help both of you.”

“Help us what Mike?” Scott asked, the unease clear in his tone.

“Help you move…” Mike paused, “on isn’t the right word. Forward? That sounds better. Help you move forward. She needs someone and from what I’ve seen, she has Monty, those two girls who basically stopped talking to her after Jeff died, a couple of randoms she doesn’t seem to like that much, the baseball team-but it seems like they keep her around out of pity. And you. She has you.”

“And how would asking her on a date help me?”

“You have Monty, Charlie, and the baseball team. You think I think you like the rest of the team?”

“No.” He admitted.

“Exactly. And you have her. Jeff was your friend. He was her boyfriend. And he died. You both need someone to get through that. Because going through it when you feel like you’re alone, sucks. Besides, (Y/N) doesn’t strike me as the kind of person to stop being friends with someone if they ask her out and she isn’t interested in that. So, either way, she won’t not be in your life.”

“I guess you’re right.”

“Course I am. Now, go. Go shoot your shot. I gotta get to math.”

My eyes widened when their conversation ended abruptly like that. I wasn’t prepared. Quickly, I stood and sped off to my own locker. I had barely had time to open it and pretend to look for something before Scott was behind me. “Hey Ticat.”

“Oh, uh. Hey Scott.”

“Whatcha looking for?”

“Book for English.”

“Cool, cool.”

“Mhmm.” Oh my God this is awkward. Please don’t ask. I don’t know if I’m ready for that yet. Someone pulled my attention away before Scott could say anything else.

“(Y/N)!”

“What?”

“Monty and Alex just got into it in the parking lot. You have to come see this.” Once again this morning, my eyes widened. They’ll probably stick like this if it happens again today.

“I’ll be right there.” I turned to Scott, abandoning my bogus search, “I uh… I need to go take care of that. I don’t know if I’ll be able to study today.” Or tomorrow. Or the next day. Or the day after that.

“No problem. Go. I’ll see you later.”

“Okay, text me.” I called as I ran off.

I skipped our study sessions for the next week and I was cautious with our texts. It was like we were back at the beginning of our friendship. Could you even call it a friendship? Well, technically Friday wasn’t skipping. I had a doctor’s appointment. Scott didn’t appear to pick up on the change though. I wasn’t sure if it was because he was oblivious, like most other boys, or if he was just as freaked out as I was by the idea of dating. I used the time in the week that I should have been studying and would have been spending with Scott, to think about him. I thought about how easy our conversations had become and how comfortable and normal I felt with him. The way his piercing blue eye shone when he laughed. Or the way they narrowed slightly when he was silently judging some stupid comment his friends made. About how white his teeth were. The way he smiled when he finished a difficult homework problem. About how soft his hair looked. Oh dear. I’ve got it bad.

I texted Scott the next morning. Library this afternoon? He answered about half an hour later, while I was eating breakfast.

Sure. I’ll save you a seat.

Cool. I have leftover chocolate chip cookies.

In free period, I found Scott at a table in the corner of the library. His stuff was spread out on what looked like exactly half of it. There was a clear divide of where his stuff ended and where the free area was. Did he save half of the table for me? He looked up from his notes when I sat down. “Hey Ticat.”

“Hey Scotty. How’s the,” I paused and looked at his notes, “calculus coming?”

“It’s coming. I have a test tomorrow and I have no idea how I’m going to pass.”

“I can try to help you?”

“I’ll see how far I can get with this and go from there?”

“Of course.” I pulled out my geography notes and the cookies. We easily fell back into our usual silent study. It was like I hadn’t been bailing on him for a week.

When the bell rang, we packed up our belongings and snuck sly glances at each other.

“Walk you to class?”

“Sure.” I nodded and threw my book bag over my shoulder.

“How have you been this week?”

“You know. Busy.”

“Yeah. How was the doctor?”

“Good. I got a clean bill of health.”

“That’s good.” I cleared my throat, awkwardly. What happened to the way things were last week? “Hey (Y/N). Uh, did you want to maybe see a movie sometime?”

“A random see what’s playing next, movie?”

“Sure. Or, you know. You could pick a movie and we could see that.”

“Scott?” I stopped walking and stepped to the side of the hall.

“Yeah?”

“Are you trying to ask me out?”

“What would you say if I was?” I had to bite my lip to keep from laughing.

“I’d say I thought you would be much smoother and more direct. And also, I think I would like that.”

��Saturday afternoon?”

“Sure. Saturday works for me.”

“Awesome.” He stepped back into the crowded hall and walked me to class. Maybe Mike is right. Maybe this will be good for us. For me.

Saturday morning, I got up early to get ready. We had decided he would be at my place at 12:30. Since it had been so long since I had been on a first date and… and my last date had been with Jeff, I was more than a little anxious. I wasn’t sure what to wear. I wasn’t sure how to do my hair. I couldn’t call anyone to ask because I wasn’t sure I wanted to tell people I was going on a date. Staring at my closet didn’t really help the indecision. Jeans? Do people wear jeans on a first date? I pulled a few pairs out. A skirt is too formal. And I don’t want to make the wrong impression. Shirt? I need to wear a shirt. Flicking through the hangers, I picked a couple of choices that were nice but not too nice. Options in hand, I laid them out on the bed. The jeans were easy to pare down to one choice. I went with a comfortable pair of Levi’s. Again, they were nice, but not too nice. A safe choice. I ended up choosing a striped high neck tank top and grabbed a black cardigan to wear on top. Pulling a pair of flats out, I slipped them on and fixed my hair. I side braided it quickly and pulled a few pieces out to frame my face. It looked effortless. Presentable and like I thought about it, yes. But still effortless, nonetheless.

The doorbell rang just before 12:30. “I’ll get it!” I called out to my parents in the other room.

“K.” Mom responded. I hopped over to the door. Scott was standing on my porch with his hands in his pocket. His usual varsity jacket was traded for a simple grey hoodie.

“Hey (Y/N).”

“Hey Scott. Just let me grab my purse and we can head out?”

“Sure.” Purse in hand, Scott and I walked out to his car. He opened the door for me, and I smiled shyly at him. Why are you acting so shy? It’s Scott Reed. It’s not like you’ve never spoken to him before. Oh, I don’t know? Maybe because I’m going on a date with him?

“You look… really pretty.”

I blushed and looked down briefly. “Thank you. I wasn’t really sure what to wear, to be honest. You look pretty too.” I realized what I said, as soon as the words left my mouth. I can’t believe I just said that. Oh, my word. Scott burst out laughing. “Uh. I mean. Handsome. You look handsome. Very put together.”

“No, no. I’ll take pretty. I’m confident enough in my manhood that it’s a compliment. Not every day a girl calls me pretty. Let alone one I’m interested in.”

“Trust me, it happens. It might not be to your face. But it does happen.”

“I’ll take your word for it.” We were quiet for a time. My face was still pink from embarrassment. “Did you have any particular movie in mind?”

“No, not really. I thought we could give your whatever movie is next thing a go?”

“I like the way you think. As long as it isn’t 2001. Because there isn’t a more boring film in existence.”

“Oh my God, I know right? I had to see it with my cousin once for ‘family bonding time’ and I fell asleep like twice.”

“Your family does bonding time too?”

“Ugh. You don’t even want to know.” I sighed dramatically.

“Tell me about it next time?” Woah. Next time? That… doesn’t actually sound that bad.

“Next time? We haven’t even gotten through a movie together and you’re already talking about next time?”

“Well- I- uh- we-.”

“Scott. Relax. Ask me again on the way home?”

“Okay.” He sounded relived.

When we arrived at the Crestmont, the ticket person was staring blankly out the booth’s window. The joys of the Saturday afternoon shift, I guess. “Welcome to the Crestmont.”

“Hi. How are you?” Scott asked the boy. His name tag read Andrew.

“Good. And you guys?”

“Good.” We answered together.

“How can I help you?”

“Can we get two tickets to whatever is playing next?”

“Two tickets to Ferdinand in not 3D. That’ll be ten dollars please.” Scott handed him the cash and I took the tickets. “Enjoy the show.”

“Thank you.” I said.

Inside, the concession worker greeted us in a much kinder tone than the ticketer. “Any chance you’ll let me pay for the snacks?”

“Not even a little.”

“Oh, come on Scotty, you drove and paid for tickets. The least you could do is let me pay for snacks.”

“No, I’ve got it. Don’t worry about it Ticat.”

“Please?” I looked at him with my best puppy dog eyes. I could see the resolve begin to crack. “Pretty please?”

“Ugh. Fine. You can buy the snacks.” He caved, dramatically.

“Yay.” I said, softly. The cashier looked like she was trying not to laugh but she was smiling. “Hi. Can I get a pack of gummy bears and a medium Cherry Coke, please?” I turned to Scott, “are we sharing popcorn? I don’t really eat very much.”

“That sounds good.”

“Okay. And a large popcorn. And whatever he would like.”

“Can I get a pack of sour patch kids and a medium orange Fanta, please?”

“Coming right up.” I paid her and caught Scott grimacing in the corner of my eye. The puppy dog eyes always work. With our snacks in hand, we found some decent seats, given the time of day we were there. The movie was adorable. While it was technically for children, I found it to be incredibly heartwarming. Somewhere around thirty minutes into the film, our hands found each other on the shared armrest. We turned and smiled shyly at each other.

After the movie was done, we walked back to his car, hand in hand. It felt strange but also kind of nice. “I’m getting snacks next time, if I have to steal your wallet.”

“Scott Reed, commit a crime? Why I never.”

“You’d get it back after the movie.”

“Fine. But I thought next time was when I got to bore you with family bonding time stories.”

“Only because I get to bore you with mine. And fine. Then the third date.”

“It’s a date.”

JANUARY

Scott and I had been dating for about a month by now. We were keeping it on the down low. I wasn’t ready to announce to people that I was no longer the sad, grieving, heartbroken girl who was destined to be alone that they thought I should be. Scott understood that. As far as anyone at school was concerned, Scott and I were just friends. We had already been studying together so it wasn’t out of the ordinary that we were still doing that. They must have missed all the coy or longing glances we shot each other. If anyone saw us together outside of school, they assumed we were just helping each other through Jeff’s death.

Scott and I were on a date at Monet’s. It was a Sunday afternoon. It was abuzz with patrons looking for an afternoon pick me up after church or brunch. But to us, it may as well have been empty. We were still in that ‘we are the only two people who exist when we are together’ stage. Scott had just gotten back from ordering us a couple of refills. He had memorized my order already. I thought it was the sweetest thing. “So, we’ve never really talked about it but,” he paused. Oh no. Please don’t ask about Jeff. I’m not ready to get into all of that. And I don’t want to do it in public. I’m going to cry. I know I will. “you and Monty seem pretty close. What’s the story there?” Oh, that’s it? Just Montgomery? Phew.

“Not really much of a story. We grew up next door to each other before my parents moved across town in eighth grade. His family moved in about a year after mine did. I kind of took him under my wing, especially as we got older. There weren’t many kids our age in the neighbourhood. Or at least, none our moms would be okay with us spending time around. So, we had each other.”

“Interesting. He never mentioned it.”

“Well, he likes to keep his home life… private. Or….” I paused, unsure of how much Scott knew. It wasn’t my place to air that information unless necessary. Which, if you ask Monty, was never.

“As private as he can when his dad is his dad.”

“You know?”

“Yeah. He’s crashed on my couch a few times. And it’s kind of hard not to notice the bruises.”

“Yeah. Unless you’re and authority figure at school in this town apparently.” I muttered, bitterly. Scott scoffed in agreement.

“Your parents never…?”

“Offered to help? Of course, they did. He always refused. And as long as he knew he could escape to our place and be safe, they felt it ‘wasn’t their place to interfere’.” I rolled my eyes.

“I see.” He nodded, rolling his eyes too. “My parents are the same way. Give the kid a safe place for the night, some breakfast in the morning, and send him on his way.” I nodded.

“Anyway, yeah. We grew up together. Even though we are a year apart, it never really affected our friendship. Things were a little harder for a while after we moved. But that only lasted a few weeks. Everything went back to normal soon enough.”

“Cool. It’s good that he has you. The other guys….”

“Can be terrible excuses for human beings?” Scott laughed and smirked into his cup with a raise of his brows.

“Yeah. That’s one way to put it.”

“You know, it’s weird. Because I saw it from the outside looking in, in freshman year. And then when Jeff and I started dating in sophomore year, I got to see it from the inside to a degree. I never understood how Jeff did it. Or how you do it.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well. You and Jeff are so… good. Like inherently good. I get the teammates and ‘you’re like family’ thing. But you guys are so different from the rest of them. And I see it with Monty too. Because I see the him that he doesn’t want the guys to see. The decent him. But he fits better I guess because I know he can have his, let’s call them moments. I never understood how you could stand by and watch it. I’m not trying to attack you or anything. Just so we are clear.”

“No, no I know. I guess… I guess it’s because you don’t want to be the odd guy out. Even though Jeff never said or did anything, he was still looked at like a brother. He was able to stay in the background with all of it and almost be the glue that kept the team from falling into complete debauchery. He gave us a shred of decency. So, everyone else had something to look to. Whether they always listened to the ‘Atkins Voice of Reason’ or not is a different story. I learned a lot from him and now it’s my turn to be the voice of reason. It’s a fine line and it can be hard to walk sometimes. But someone has to.”

“I guess that makes sense.” I nodded. We spent a little longer talking about lighter topics before parting ways. We snuck a few kisses in the alley beside the building first though.

FEBRUARY

Since we had started dating, Scott had come by the animal shelter a few times to help out. He said it was to see me. I saw right through his lies. He mostly just wanted to play with puppies for a few hours. I didn’t blame him though. I would do the same thing. He surprised me on a Wednesday evening. I came back into the shelter from a walk with a German shepherd and a rottweiler. It was a long one, so they were happy to be back so they could lounge around and beg for attention. When I entered the kennels, Scott was sitting in the middle of the puppy room, surrounded by a puddle of puppies. He was being attacked by fluff. One of the labs, Daisy, was trying to scale his chest to lick his face. A terrier mix, appropriately named Jack, was trying to get his attention by gnawing on his hand. He was giggling and had the absolute brightest smile on his face. A loud bark tore my attention away from him. The rottweiler was apparently upset that I wasn’t paying attention to him. “Oh, I’m sorry Rascal. Did you need something? Do you need some attention?” I cooed and reached out to rub his head.

“Need some company? My shift is over.” I asked as I walked into the room and shut the door firmly behind me.

“Always. How was your evening?”

“It was good. Only had to deal with a few accidents. How was practice.”

“It was alright. We had more than a few accidents.” He chuckled. Daisy had appeared to have managed the climb and was cuddled against Scott’s chest.

“I see you’ve made a new friend.”

“It looks like I have. She’s very cute. Think I could convince mom and dad to let me bring her home?”

“With you going off to college next year? I don’t think so.”

“Damn. At least that one has stopped trying to eat me.” He nodded towards Jack. He was curled up in a ball in his lap, sound asleep. The rest of the puppies were either sleeping now or trying to get attention from me. I shared the pets and love as equally as I could.

“Yeah. He hasn’t learned all of his manners yet. Eating people is not the most polite thing to do when you’re trying to get adopted.” We laughed quietly together. After another half hour, it was time to call it a night and head home.

A couple of Sundays after the puppy puddle, I decided I was ready to take a big step. I was finally ready to go and see Jeff’s grave with Scott. I had been on my own before and it had been hard. I would sit and talk to him for hours. I couldn’t tell him about Scott though. I felt like we had to go together to do that. Depending on what you believe, he probably already knew about us. But I wanted to tell him anyway.

I called Scott that morning. “Hey. Are you busy later?”

“Hey Ticat. No, I’m not. Why? Something on your mind?”

“Yeah. I was wondering if you wanted to go to Jeff’s grave with me today. Tell him about us?”

“Are you ready for that?”

“I think so. It’s time. I feel like it’s time for him to know. I need to tell him, but I don’t want to do it alone.”

“Of course, (Y/N). I’ll pick you up at one?”

“Okay.”

I decided to wear a skirt and a flowy top today. It was a nice day out. Scott picked me up and we stopped at the florist for some flowers. Jeff always got me purple tulips, so I grabbed a bouquet of them to leave on his headstone. At the cemetery, I walked hand in hand with Scott. We were both silent as we wandered through the maze of people’s final resting places. When we passed Hannah Baker’s grave, I took a single flower out of the bunch and placed it on her headstone.

It was both so long and yet much too fast before we were standing at the foot of Jeff’s grave. I neatly placed the flowers on the base of his headstone. Someone must have been by to visit recently because there was a worn-out baseball cap hanging off the corner. I could feel Scott’s eyes on me as I sat down and smoothed out my skirt. Since I normally came alone, I wasn’t really sure where to begin or what to say. He sat down beside me but didn’t reach out to take my hand. He was letting me do everything in my own time.

“I don’t know if you can hear me, wherever you are. But I’m choosing to believe you can.” Scott started after I hadn’t said anything. “I miss you. Everyone misses you. Coach Rick is still the same hard ass he’s been. We are hanging your jersey before our season opener. There’s some argument about if it should just be the team or if we should do it at the pep rally. I think you would want it to just be us.”

“Mrs. Davidson finally stopped reading out loud to us in Literature this week. Remember how she would just go on, and on, and on about the smallest, most insignificant details? And we don’t have to listen to her boring, monotone voice read every class now.”

“We have a chance at making state again this year. It won’t feel the same without you though. The guys are going a little crazy but I’m keeping things together. I think (Y/N) being around helps though. She really is amazing man. You have no idea how lucky you were to be with her. Or maybe you do. With the way you paraded her around like she was your pride and joy.”

“We really had something special. And I wish you were still here to keep sharing it with me. But you aren’t. And eventually, that will be more okay. And it will hurt less. But for now, it sucks. And it hurts. But I’ve started learning how to get through it. And I have help.” I reached out to take Scott’s hand in mine. He squeezed it. “Scott has been there for me every step of the way. Even the times when I wouldn’t be there for me if I were him. He’s seen it all. Heck, he’s seen me puking on the side of the road.”

“Or getting piss drunk at the docks.” I pushed him lightly.

“Yes. And he’s shown me that even though it hurts, I can let someone in again. I can be happy again. We’ve been together for a couple of months now. It’s harder some days than others. But he’s always there for me, no matter what. I understand why you liked him so much. He makes it hard not to. I see parts of you in him and it makes me smile on the hard days.” I had to pause because I was getting choked up.

“I see why you loved her so much. She makes it hard not to. She’s kind and smart and selfless. Even when she doesn’t need to be, she is. I wish I didn’t have to be, because you should still be here, but I am so thankful that I have the privilege of being with her. I hope you know that I will take care of her and I work every day to make her feel as loved and important as you made her feel. Our story can’t compare to yours, but I hope it makes you proud.” My tears had started to fall, and Scott pulled me into his lap. I cried into his shoulder. This was so much harder than I thought it would be. I miss Jeff. When my tears were under control, I looked at Scott for a moment. I looked back at Jeff’s headstone and was silent for a while. I was the first to stand. Brushing the dirt off my skirt, I reached out for Scott’s hand. He stood behind me and wrapped his arms around my waist. I moved the ball cap on top of the flower stems so it wouldn’t blow off in the wind.

“I love you.” I whispered. Turning around, Scott and I walked back to the car silently and drove home in somber, yet comforting silence.

MARCH

I was asleep on Scott’s chest when my phone began buzzing on the bed beside me. I slowly woke up and groggily searched for the unexpected noise. “Hello?” I whispered; my voice thick with sleep.

“(Y/N)?” Monty’s voice came through the other end of the line. He sounded like he was in immense pain. I sat up slowly, so I didn’t wake Scott.

“Monty, what’s wrong?”

“My arm. It really hurts. My old man. I, fuck, I don’t think I can drive. Can you come help me?”

“Uh…” I paused, looking at the man sleeping soundly beside me. “Yeah. Give me fifteen, twenty minutes.”

“Okay.” He said before he hung up.

I noted the time before waking Scott. It was just after one in the morning. “Scott.” I whispered, shaking him slightly. He grunted in response. “Scott, wake up for a second.” I urged again.

“Hmm? Wha’s goin’ on?” he mumbled as he woke up.

“I need to go take care of something. I don’t know when I’ll be back. You can stay here and go back to sleep. If I’m not back when you wake up, you can go home or you can stay here. If you stay there is cereal in the cupboard, and K-cups under the Keurig. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

“Okay (Y/N).” He muttered, already falling back asleep.

After quickly changing into a clean shirt and sweatpants, I ran downstairs. I left Scott a note on my dresser so he wouldn’t be too confused if he didn’t remember my telling him goodbye. I pulled up in front of Monty’s house and we drove silently to the hospital. I really hate it here. “What are we telling them this time?” I asked after I paid for parking.

“Sex?”

I blinked at him slowly. “What the hell kind of sex results in a possibly broken arm?”

“The really kinky kind?”

“Pick something better.”

“I fell down the stairs?”

“Alright. That could be believable.” With that, we made our way into the ER to have his arm fixed. We waited an hour to be seen and then another forty-five minutes for an X-ray.

“It looks like you won’t need surgery. I will need to cast it though.” The doctor advised.

“Alright.” Monty replied calmly, the pain meds having done their job. The doctor produced a bin of colours to choose from.

“Pick a colour and I’ll have you on your way soon.” He looked through them and decided on blue. Once wrapped and we were going to be on the way, the doctor added, “turn on the light next time.”

“Will do Doc. Thank you.” Monty replied and waved with his good hand.

Once we were in the car and on the way to my place, I realized I would need to explain Scott being over to him. Just tell him. I sighed before speaking. “Hey, so my parents are out of town, but you’ll need to sleep in the guest room.”

“Uh… okay? Why?” he asked.

“Because?”

“Because why?”

I felt my face heat up a bit. “Um… my room might already be… occupied?” I squeaked. I peeked over and his eyes widened.

“You mean…?”

“Mhmmm.”

“Who is it?”

“Scott?” I said, my voice raising an octave or two. Monty breathed out a whistle.

“Are we okay with that?”

I paused again, thinking. “Yes. Yeah, we are.”

“Well alright then.” he replied, leaning back and getting comfortable in the passenger seat. The house was quiet when we got back around four-thirty. Monty was tucked in the guest room as I slinked my way back into my own room. Scott was still sleeping soundly in bed. I crawled in beside him and went back to sleep for a few hours.

The following morning, I woke up and quietly made my way downstairs for breakfast. Monty followed not long after me, grabbing a mug and pouring himself a mug of coffee. I waited until he sat down and had a few sips before greeting him. “Morning Monty. Sleep okay?”

“Morning (Y/N). I slept okay. You?”

“It was alright. Warmer than I’m used to.”

“I’ll bet it was.” He smirked at me.

“Oh shush you.” Monty chuckled softly as I rolled my eyes.

“You’re sure you’re okay with this?”

“Yeah. I am.” I nodded, smiling.

“Good. That’s good.” He nodded and took another sip of coffee. We heard footsteps coming downstairs and looked up.

“Morning (Y/N).” Scott muttered from the middle of the stairs.

“Morning Scott.” I replied.

“Morning Scotty.” Monty greeted, as though this was a perfectly normal Saturday morning. Scott almost missed a step, he stopped so fast.

“Uh. Morning Monty?” He looked to me and raised a brow.

“He needed me last night. I had to tell him.” I shrugged.

“Okay.” He said, walking over to the Keurig and making a cup of coffee. The three of us stood around the kitchen slightly awkwardly looking at each other.

“Same rule applies as with my car. I’ll beat you if you scratch her.”

“Jump right to the threats, why not?” I muttered into my mug.

“I’m sure you will, Monty.”

“Damn straight.”

“Even though I’m your favourite friend?”

“(Y/N) is my favourite.”

“I’m your person. Not your favourite.”

“Yes you are.”

“You don’t call your favourite when you kill someone and need help hiding the body.”

“Excuse me?” Scott interjected, alarmed.

“She made me watch Grey’s Anatomy with her over spring break a couple of years ago.”

“Oh. I see. How was that?”

“It’s network tv with a lot of censored sex. And drama.”

“No boobs?”

“No boobs.”

“Yeah, it would be better with boobs. And if everyone stopped leaving and dying.” I added.

“Does this mean I have to watch it with you?”

“No, you might have to sit through an episode of The Bachelor though. I mostly just watch it because I don’t understand how none of those stupidly attractive people can find dates on their own.”

“You hate watch it. I can’t wait.”

“Well, you’ll get to look forward to what happens after we get done hate watching it.” I retorted, lowly. Scott rose his brow suggestively.

“Oh really?”

“And on that note! Who wants… whatever I can make (Y/N) cook with eggs, peppers, and… meat? What is this meat?” Monty cut in as he went through my fridge.

“I think it’s pork. Could be ground turkey though. There’s potatoes in the cupboard. Breakfast hash?”

“Sounds delicious.” Scott answered. I moved around him and got the bag of potatoes so I could start helping.

“How long has this been going on for anyway? Also remember that I’m still here so you can’t be all touchy.”

Scott looked at me before answering. “Since December.”

“How did I not notice?” Monty said after a pause.

“I don’t know. Too busy with sports and Bryce? There’s also spinach. Do I add the spinach?” I turned around and the boys were both making faces. “No spinach then.”

“I was not busy with Bryce.”

“Mhmm. That’s not why you blew off our movie marathon tradition?”

“Okay, point made.”

“How’s your arm?”

“It’s okay, hurts like a bitch. Why, Scott?”

“Just asking.” Scott turned to me and whispered, “his dad?” I nodded.

“No flirting.”

“I didn’t get to kiss her good morning, give me a break.” I turned and watched Scott playfully flip Monty off. Then, he placed a soft kiss to my lips and I smiled into it. “Good morning beautiful.”

“Good morning handsome.”

***

“Monty knows now.”

“He does.” I replied, leaning back into his chest on the couch. “He’s okay with it.”

“That’s good.”

“You aren’t going to be jealous, are you? Because there is nothing going on between us.”

“No, I know. What was the fight about this time?”

“Who knows. He called me and said he needed me, so I went. He wanted to tell the doctors it was a sex accident.”

Scott laughed. “What the fuck kind of sex would that have been?”

“The kind that would have broken his wrist, not his forearm.”

“You would have been the top?”

“Yes. So, you see why we couldn’t say that.”

“Right. That’s why.”

“We said he fell down the stairs.”

“Plausible.”

“Anyway, no idea what it was. But knowing his dad, it could have been anything. There’s a reason I don’t go to his house very often.” I left it at that and we cuddled on the couch for a while.

“Hey Scotty?”

“Yeah, (Y/N/N)?”

I sat up and turned to him. “Now that Monty knows, do you think we could tell other people? Maybe… maybe enough time has passed that people will understand?”

“I think we can tell people, if you want to. I don’t care what people think. I would have told everyone in January if you wanted to.”

“I know. I just… I don’t know how to do this. I’ve never been the girl whose boyfriend died before.”

“I know. People might talk for a few days, but they’ll move on. No one expects you to have stayed single for the rest of your life.”

“Not my whole life necessarily. Just the rest of high school.” I joked.

“The people who complain can fuck off.”

“I guess. And things have kind of gone back to normal now. Or as normal as they can.”

“We don’t have to tell people if you don’t want to (Y/N).”

“I do. I think we need to. I don’t want to hide you anymore. It’s time for me to start living my life in the open again.”

“And honestly, I’m tired of hiding you.” We spent a little longer watching tv together. It was nice having someone I could just sit and be with again. We each took turns choosing shows. “I should probably head home soon sweetheart.”

“Okay. I’ll see you Monday?”

“Of course.” Together we gathered up his things and tidied the kitchen. Scott kissed me goodbye, and I leaned against the front door after he had driven away.

Monday would be the last big thing I had to do before graduation. It was the last step in beginning to move forward. I would always love Jeff Atkins. He would always be a part of me and hold a special place in my heart. But I had realized over the last several months that I could be happy again. I wouldn’t be betraying him for allowing myself to fall in love with someone again. And I had Scott Reed to thank for that.

#montgomery de la cruz #jeff atkins #scott reed #scott reed imagine #Scott Reed x Reader #scott reed x reader #Jeff Atkins x reader #Jeff Atkins deserved better #13 reasons why #13rw #thirteen reasons why #writeblr #fanfiction #fan fiction

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llocallesbian · 4 years

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line without a hook | k.s

NO KATHY SLANDER WILL BE TOLERATED OVER HERE. nope. she deserves the absolute world.

“Y/l/n.” You answered the phone groggy, glancing at the clock. The blurry red lights blared in your face as you sighed, rubbing the sleep from your eyes.

“Hey, y/n. I was just calling you to see if you could let Eliot know he left his wallet at home. I figured he was in a rush when he got the call a little while ago and he’s not answering bu-” You eyes finally focused on the time, squinting at them. 5:52 am.

“Kathy, what are you talking about?” You could hear a little commotion in the back, like she moved a pan or something.

“Is there not a case or a victim or-”

“I didn’t get a call Kathy and I always get the call first. So no, there isn’t a case.” There was a pause on the other line and you could definitely hear her scoffing through the phone. “I’m pretty sure he just went out for something-”

“Or with someone.” She finished for you, although that’s not what you were going to say. “What time did Elliot leave work yesterday?” You sat up in your bed, fully awake now.

“Kathy, I can’t-”

“Y/n, please.” Her voice cracked and you didnt need to see her to know her lip was quivering. You tried not to crack. Elliot was someone you worked with, he was your friend and you loved him but that didn’t mean you could lie to Kathy. Kathy and you were great friends, occasionally going out, helping her with the kids. It was great to have someone as a friend you didn’t work with. It was refreshing. You couldn’t lie to her.

“He and Olivia left around 6. I think they said something about going to the bar.” You told her what you recalled hearing and she sighed. Kathy leaned against her kitchen counter, the phone clutched tightly in her right hand.

“Yeah, well, he didn’t get home till around 1 and bow he’s leaving early and lying-” She paused, wiping the tears that were slowly falling down her face as she came to realization.

“No, Kathy. He wouldn’t cheat on you. Especially with Olivia. They’re best friends, that’s all.” You tried to reassure her but she wasn’t having it. Running a hand through her hair, she scoffed.

“Yeah, Right.” Then the line went dead. You looked down at the phone before tossing it on the bed and flopping back down. You laid there for a moment, contemplating on whether or not to go back to bed. You groaned loudly as you pushed the covers off of you, getting up and walking towards your closet. “Goddamn Stabler!”

“Y/n?” Kathy opened the door to find you, dressed in sweats and a big bag of McDonalds. “What are you doing here?”

“We’re friends, Kathy. I’ll be here for you, even at 6 in the morning.” You took in her appearance, an old white shirt with small pair of plaid shorts. Her hair devilish, like her hand had run through it a million times. Her eyes were slightly puffy, face was a shade of light pink, she looked heartbroken. Beautiful. But heartbroken. “I even brought breakfast.” You held up the bag and she opened the door wider, letting you in before closing it.

“You didn’t have to-” You shook your head, heading towards the couch.

“Don’t even do that.” You glanced at her before placing the bag on the table and taking a seat on the sofa.

“Now come on, come eat.” She smiled slightly before taking a seat next to you. You had begun eating in silence, you occasionally looked at her, thinking of something to say.

“I want to believe he wouldn’t do it but the truth is, I don’t even know my husband anymore.” She sighed, placing the breakfast sandwich she was eating bag down on the paper. “I love him, I will always love Elliot but I deserve better. I want someone who is there for me, I need someone I can depend on and Elliot just isn’t there anymore. He loves her.” The tears welled up in her eyes and you reached out to her, wanting to comfort her but she shook her head, pushing your hand down. “I don’t need pity, y/n. Okay, i’m not sad, i’m mad. I’m angry.”

“Kathy-”

“I’m angry that I stayed this long. Angry that I was so blind and i’m tired. So tired. I have no one and I-” You grabbed her hands, leading her to face you. You watched the tears stream down her face momentarily before grabbing her head. Your thumbs coming up to brush the tears from her cheeks.

“You have me, Kathy. I’ll be here for whatever. You wanna scream, cry, yell, break stuff, i’m here. You wanna work things out with Elliot. I’m here for you. Whatever you decide, I’ll be here. I love you, okay?” She nodded, her eyes tightly closed as she enjoyed the comfort of actually being touched. Her eyes fluttered open, the small smile the danced on your lips being the first thing she noticed. Then the adoration in your eyes, the way you looked at her like she was the only person that mattered. Her eyes flickered down to your lips then back up as she leaned in slowly. You breath hitched as she came closer, so close that you could feel her breath on your face.

Next thing that happened was her lips on yours. Kissing you softly. It stayed like this for a few moments. Her hands rested on your knees while yours stayed on her cheeks. Your eyes fluttered open as her tongue swiped across your bottom lip. You wanted to grant her access. You wanted to explore her. But this was wrong. You pulled back, shaking your head. You missed the warmth of her lips. “Kathy, no.” You whispered as you looked into her eyes, her eyes that seemed to be all the colors of the ocean at once.

“Y/n, pl-” You heard a door upstairs open resulting in you jumping back quickly, so quick you almost fell off the sofa.

“You’re hurting and vulnerable, it was an accident.” You rushed out in one breath before Maureen came downstairs, a grumpy look on her face. “Hey there babes, I brought you guys breakfast.” She smiled softly at you before coming over to give you a hug, you held her close for a moment before joking. “You have to stop growing, practically taller than me.” She chuckled before going through the bag.

“You have to get to work?” You nodded, glancing over at her mother who was looking down at her lap.

“Yeah, kiddo. I’ll see you soon though.” She nodded obviously believing your lie. “See you, Kathy.” You mumbled, not wanting to make things more awkward. Quickly rushing out to your car, you got in and slammed the door. “I am so fucking screwed.”

am i gonna make this a series? hell yeah. because hear me out, yall should write about kathy. also there is probably a bunch of errors in this but yeah. i hope yall are doing good

#kathy stabler #kathy stabler x reader #olivia benson #olivia benson x reader #law and order svu imagines #law and order svu #law and order svu x reader #elliot stabler #fin tutuola #john munch #donald cragen #law and order special victims unit

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kaitycole · 4 years

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losing what he never had

Summary: Bokuto recounts the worst day of his life that all started with a phone call.

Pairing: Bokuto x fem!reader

Word Count: 2822

Warnings: Angst. Pure fucking angst. Character death. Slight mention of pregnancy loss.

A/N: Thanks to @cosmicmermaid25 for this prompt. She said “make me cry” I hope this lives up to it.

“I was supposed to be there, at home with you, but a match got rescheduled and I had to be in Tokyo. I was supposed to be there, driving with you to your doctor’s appointment because you wanted me with you, but instead I wasn’t and you were all alone.”

* * Present Day

Bokuto isn’t sure what he’s supposed to feel, but he does know that he feels empty and maybe a little lost. That feeling you get when you turn around in circles, first noticing the person you’re with isn’t there anymore. That feeling right before the panic sets in that you’re alone. Or maybe it’s more like when a strong wind blows in your face and you can’t catch breath, the struggle of quickly trying to block the overwhelming emotions that flood you as you try to breathe.

It’s been two months since he got the call, a phone call that shattered his entire world, that brought him down to his knees and nothing in his life has been the same. Like looking through a shattered mirror, hoping to see a complete image.

It had been on the calendar for weeks, the day that Y/N had her doctor’s appointment and she didn’t really like driving to far places alone, so of course being the doting boyfriend, Bokuto offered to drive. He didn’t mind, in fact he rather enjoyed driving and a part of him really enjoyed Y/N depending on him. She didn’t need to, she could hold her own, but he loved to feel needed and was confident that his partner knew that too.

But there was a storm, a match between MSBY and Schweiden Adlers had to be reschedule, but it became an away game and as fate would have it, it was scheduled for the same day as the appointment. Bokuto apologized profusely to his partner, swearing if he could sit out then he would, but she brushed off his worries, saying she understood, it wasn’t a big deal. Sometimes having such an understanding partner could hurt.

* * Two months ago – 7:45 AM

*alarm noises*

Bokuto picks up his phone, clicking end on the alarm, but truth be told, he had been up for a while. It’s weighing down on him that he can’t be there for his girlfriend, knowing she is getting ready to do something that she isn’t comfortable doing to begin with.

“Ko?” Her voice still sounds full of sleep, even though he knows by now she’s already had her morning tea and shower.

“’Morning babe. I just wanted to call before you left.” He steps out of the hotel room, out into the hallway. There’s a deeper meaning weighing his words, worry for her trip, but he’s hoping she doesn’t take it as doubt.

“You have perfect timing.” He hears the door locking in the background, “I was just walking out of the apartment.”

“I wish I could’ve been there to take you. Or that you’d have agreed to let Akaashi go with you.” He knows she can do it, but it doesn’t alleviate any guilt he has knowing that she didn’t really want to go alone.

“You can’t help a scheduling change and I’ll be okay, it’s not too far, ya know?” There’s a bit of hesitation in her voice and it kills Bokuto to know there’s nothing he can do. He tried to get her to reschedule but she said it had taken her a while to just get this one, she didn’t know how long it’d take to get another.

He sits on the ground next to his hotel room’s door, leaning back against the wall. “I know, but I still like feeling needed.” “Ko,” there’s a smile in her tone, “I’ll always need you. I gotta go, good luck at your game!”

“I love you. Be safe.”

“Love too you Ko!”

He stares at his phone, the screen now black and he can’t help but feel this pit in his stomach, like something’s eating at him. He pushes himself off the ground, trying to shake off the feeling, chalking it up to pre-game jitters.

* * 10:30 AM

It’s nearing the end of the first set of the match against the Adler that Bokuto’s focus seems to be withering. Hinata starts trying to pick up the slack on Bo’s end and Atsumu gets pissed off enough to stop setting to him altogether, which helps but the Adlers are quick to use that as a weak spot for MSBY. After the first set, Adlers in the lead, Coach Foster makes the decision to bench Bo.

Bokuto flops down on the bench, accepting a water bottle from the team’s manager. He hates this feeling, especially when he proudly told Akaashi and Atsumu that he wasn’t the moody guy that he was back in high school, and here he was letting whatever this feeling is affect his gameplay.

“Just cool down and clear your head.” Coach Foster says, not taking his eyes off the court.

Bokuto leans forward, his head between his knees as he steadies his breathing, letting go of everything that feels like it’s weighing him down. He knows that she’s fine, she promised him that she would be and he lets the comfort of her voice clear his mind before he makes eye contact with his coach, telling him that he’s ready now.

* * 1:55 PM

She should be home by now, right?

Bokuto looks down at his phone again, her voicemail echoing from the other end. Once Bokuto’s mind was clear, the Black Jackal dominated the court and took the win, but even with the various cheers filling the locker room, Bo found himself feeling miles away from the celebration.

He clicks on her thread once more, the last text having been from a few days ago about dinner, no “got here safely” text from today and that makes his stomach sink. He tries calling again, trying to rationalize that maybe it hadn’t gone through the first time, locker rooms had shaky cell reception, right? But he gets her voicemail once again, glances up at the clock, noting that maybe she was eating lunch or taking a nap, she’d been napping a lot more lately.

“I’m sure she’s fine, Bo!” Hinata says, patting his teammate on the back.

“C’mon, let’s go get something to eat!” Atsumu yells and a few other teammates quickly agree.

Bo lets out a sigh, shaking the thoughts from his head, “yeah, okay.”

* * 2:30 PM

Bokuto walks out of the hotel, most of the team already waiting out front, he doesn’t want to get food, he’d rather head back home, but the team is scheduled for a meet and greet tonight. Meaning chances of him leaving before tomorrow morning are slim. He looks down at his phone, an unknown number is calling, but before he can ignore it, the almost paralyzing feeling that weighed him down on the court grips around him.

“Hello?” His voice is shaking, Hinata and Atsumu walk over to him, both lost in whatever they were talking about to notice the shift in Bokuto’s demeanor.

“I’m calling for a Bokuto-san. Is this them?” “Yeah, I’m Boku—” He can’t finish his sentence, his mind racing with various thoughts, negative thoughts dry his mouth, causing a lump in a throat, like his body already knows what he’s about to hear. Hinata looks between him and Atsumu, clearly concerned for his teammate and friend, while Atsumu leans into the other side of the phone, hoping to overhear.

“You’re listed as an emergency contact for a L/N F/N.” There’s a pause that last about five seconds too long for Bokuto’s worried mind.

He doesn’t really hear anything after that, just snippets of the unfamiliar voice on the other side.

There was an accident…

…emergency surgery.

How soon…

…be here?

Atsumu catches Bokuto’s phone as his hand just lets it go, his mind still racing as the color drains from his face. He turns, running back into the hotel, using the stairs to get to his room because his anxious mind couldn’t take the wait for an elevator. Hinata and Atsumu run after him, but all he can hear is the thumping of his heart in his ears, his vision getting blurry from either tears or shock, he’s not too sure.

He fumbles with the keycard to get into the room, all but slamming it against the sensor before flinging the door open. He’s panicked, looking around the room trying to figure out what he needs right now, what should he take, he was never good at this thing, Y/N is always the one who packs things for him.

By the time Hinata and Atsumu have caught up to him, he’s mumbling to himself, Sakusa stepping out of the room next door to see what all the noise is from.

“I’ll fly. I’ll fly back to Osaka.” Bokuto says, looking for his passport, because in his mind airport equals passport.

“That’d take too long Bokuto.” Sakusa slowly steps into the room, trying to reason with him, “by the time you got a flight you could’ve already been back.”

Bokuto looks back towards the door, towards three of his teammates and the expression on his face could break their hearts. His bottom lip is poked out in a worried pout, his hair drooping down, almost like it’s deflated. None of them know what to do or to say, this is Akaashi’s or Y/N’s territory, not theirs.

“The train, Bo. That’s the fastest to get to her.”

He starts nodding, patting his pockets to make sure he has his wallet and quickly grabs a hoodie, as he starts making his way out of the room, his face void of any expression or emotion.

Keys.

Check.

Wallet.

Check.

Phone.

Check.

He pauses, still panicked, “I don’t have my passport. Where is it? I need it!”

Atsumu wants to grab and push Bokuto out of the room, to yell that he doesn’t need a passport to get on the train, but Hinata rushing into the room, swiping it from the inside pocket that lined his duffle bag. It’s where Y/N had told Bo to keep it so he wouldn’t worry about losing it or walking out of the hotel without it and where he’s kept it ever since.

“Here you go.” Hinata hands it to the wing spiker, noting that Bokuto’s eyes look dead, there’s no light in them like usual. “C’mon, let’s get to the train station.”

* * 6 PM

Bokuto bolts into the hospital, frantically looking around the sterile white building, breathlessly. He walks up to the first person that he sees in a white coat, not really caring how he looks to anyone.

“I…got a call…”

“Patient name?”

He tells the doctor her name, watching the woman’s face drop just slightly before becoming stoic again. “Let’s go somewhere and talk.”

“After I see her…” His words are desperate, like he’s hanging on from the edge, getting ready to fall at any moment. The pain in his eyes clearly evident to the woman as she tries to figure out what to do, how to handle the situation. “Please.”

“We tried….there wasn’t…I’m sorry…”

He shakes his head, as if the motion alone would change what he’s about to hear, what he’s feared since he got the call. His fingers run through his hair, tugging on it slight to ground him because it feels unreal, like he’s watching this unfold from outside his own body.

“…your losses.”

Bokuto’s attention instantly refocuses, eyes lined with tears that are seconds from falling, such a pathetic expression in his eyes. “What?”

“I just assumed you knew.” The doctor shifts awkwardly on her feet, “it seems she was 11 weeks pregnant.”

* * 7:12 PM

“Bokuto-san.”

Bokuto’s sitting next to the hospital bed where Y/N is, holding her hand, half asleep, the mix of crying and the adrenaline wearing off has drained him. He’s been there practically since he arrived, refusing to leave her, refusing to accept that she’s anything but sleeping.

“Bokuto-san.”

He looks up, eyes red and puffy, his nose stuffy as he breathes through it, turning slightly to see the owner of the voice, never letting go of her hand. Though it doesn’t feel like her hand, it’s cold which isn’t unlike her, she’s always been warm. She brought a warmth to Bokuto’s life and he’s not sure he’s ready to let it go, he’s not sure that he can let go.

Akaashi walks in the room, placing a hand on Bo’s right shoulder, “Bokuto-san, let’s get you home.”

“I can’t…leave her…here.” He starts choking on the sobs that rip through his throat, “she won’t know where she is.”

“I know, but it’s getting late.”

“We can go…after she wakes up, okay? Yeah, yeah,” his voice raises a little bit, like he’s satisfied with the idea he’s come up with, “that way…I can let her…know I’ll be back.”

Akaashi takes a deep breath, he thought he’d seen every side of Bokuto, that he knew all of his weaknesses and strengths, that he was the one of the few people that could ground Bokuto, but he’s out of his element here. How do you tell your best friend the love of his life isn’t going to wake up?

“Boku—” “Aka—Keiji,” He steadies his breath, a small sob cracks his voice, “I know…she’s gone, but once I leave we won’t be a family of three, it’ll just…it’ll just be me.”

Akaashi feels his own tears starting to form, trying to blink them away, he has to be strong for his best friend. He squeezes his hand on Bokuto’s shoulder when he feels him start to tremble, to shake underneath him, cries filling the room. He wants to tell Bokuto that it’s time to leave, that they really need to be going, but how do you take someone away from something that wasn’t theirs yet?

* * Present Day

Bokuto’s never really believed in a higher power, he doesn’t give much thought to horoscopes or pay any attention when people swear they had “feelings” about something, but looking back on that day, something didn’t sit right in his stomach after their call ended. And that’s something that has plagued his thoughts ever since.

If only he had called her back, begged for her to just miss the appointment, maybe…maybe she wouldn’t have…

He shakes his head, tears trailing his cheeks, he knows it won’t do him any good to think that way, but how could he not? Looking back, he knows something was trying to tell him to stop her, but he didn’t, he just let her go and this was the outcome of his choice.

“Sorry I didn’t come for a few days, we had another away game, but Akaashi told me that he came a few times to keep you company.” He wipes the tears, smearing this across his face. “I’ve gotten better at packing my bags now, though Sakusa still brings extra toiletries for me.”

He tilts his head to the side, realizing that sometimes if he stopped thinking, it still felt like she was there, so much of her still part of his daily interactions, bits of her still sprinkled through his decisions.

Laundry’s still done on Wednesdays because she liked doing it in the middle of the week.

Take-out for dinner on Saturdays because that was always their at-home date night.

Passport can still be found in the lining pocket of his duffle bag when he’s traveling.

Her favorite tea brand is still in the cabinets because Bokuto still brews it just so the house smells like her.

“I was picked to play on the Japan National Team in the Olympics this year, Y/N. You always said I could do it.” He fumbles in his pocket, grabbing the small item that’s been weighing down on him. “I never told you, but I had big plans for if I made it to the Olympics.”

Bokuto places a small black velvet box on top of the tombstone, his fingers dragging across the smooth surface, letting his hand fall when it reaches the end. He whispers that he loves her one more time before he heads back to the parking lot, Kuroo was waiting there. Even without her around, he was never alone, not really, one of his friends was always finding an excuse to stay with him which he didn’t mind.

It hurts, hurts to try to figure out a life without her, knowing that if things had been different they’d be getting ready for a baby. Part of him wants to fall apart acknowledging that, knowing that in some alternate universe she’s his wife and mother of his child, that he’s a dad, but he can’t because it feels wrong to mourn over something that was never his to begin with.

#haikyuu!!#hq bokuto #bokuto kotaro #hq bokuto x reader #bokuto x reader #bokuto x female reader #bokuto angst #hq angst #no fluff here #pure angst #tw angst #tw character death #tw loss of a loved one #tw grief #tw mourning #tw loss of pregnancy #reader death #tw reader death #bokuto kōtarō x reader

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