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zepskies · 5 months

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Wake Me Up - Part 1

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x F. Reader

Summary: A few weeks after you and Ben celebrate your first Christmas together, Ben is returning from another mission with the Supe Affairs team. When he discovers that you’ve been taken, he’ll do whatever it takes to find you. And then, to help you heal.

AN: Welcome back to the BMD-verse! Let me tell you, I’ve had this mini series outlined for months, but now I thought it was finally time to get to it. If you’re not tired of the Break Me Down world yet, I very much hope you enjoy Wake Me Up.

**As a reminder, this story is set shortly after Love Actually, and will contain references from that three-part story.

Song Inspo: For this whole series it’s “I Can Read Your Mind” by the Doobie Brothers. (I pretty much listened to this on repeat.)

Word Count: 5.5K

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only. Starting off strong in this one: with mature themes, show level violence, angst, kidnapping, PTSD, mentions of torture (not too graphic), and character death.

💚 Wake Me Up Masterlist || Break Me Down Masterlist

Part 1: “Familiar Territory”

The start of a new year continued a steady rhythm for you and Ben. Namely, another successful mission for the Supe Affairs team.

While you were patched into the team’s communications line from the safety of your desk back at the S.A. headquarters in New York, your friends were a few states over in Denver, Colorado. They’d just arrested a supe that had been committing a series of bank robberies by literally slipping away from the police, thanks to his particular superpower.

“Somebody better get this shit off of me,” M.M. groused.

He wasn’t too happy about some questionable ooze this particular supe secreted as a defense mechanism. According to Frenchie’s research, it was the same shit that certain frogs could produce to repel predators.

“Need a good hose down, more like,” said Butcher. “You smell fuckin’ foul.”

“Like Satan’s ass crack,” Ben remarked.

You couldn’t hold back a snort of amusement.

“Let’s just get the fuck outta here,” M.M. said, his tone all surly, as per usual. You didn’t envy his plight.

“Good job, guys,” you said, to change the subject. “Now it’s just a short flight back to New York.”

“No layovers this time. I’m not being paid to rot in a fucking airport with a bunch of mouth-breathing assholes and their screaming brats,” Ben said.

Charming. You rolled your eyes, but a smile played on your lips when you imagined his taciturn face.

“Okay, your majesty. I’ll make sure it’s a nonstop flight,” you said. “I’ll be waiting for you at home.”

That last bit, you said with a hint of more behind your words. You drummed your nails on your desk and crossed your legs underneath it. A week was a long time for you and your boyfriend to be apart, and you’d been missing him.

“You better be,” Ben said. His voice was deep and cocky. He was smirking, you were sure, and you knew that he’d understood you perfectly well.

“Anybody else hearing this blatant foreplay?” Hughie quipped.

“I sense cheeks will be cracked tonight,” Frenchie muttered.

“Ugh!” you heard Annie shudder.

You knew she supported you and Ben, but you also knew that she didn’t want to hear about the gushy details. You laughed through your embarrassment.

“Okay, guys. I’ll see you all tomorrow,” you said, before you officially signed off.

You grabbed your purse that was stowed away in a desk drawer, fished out your cell phone, and you called Ben’s cell. He picked up on the second ring.

“Yeah?” he said.

“I love you,” you said with a smile. “Just wanted to make sure you knew that.”

“Mhmm,” he replied. “I’ll see you soon, baby doll.”

You pouted. “Come on, say it.”

“Say what?”

You sighed. You knew he was being deliberately obtuse.

“You know exactly what,” you replied.

Part of you was upset that he didn’t say it back as often as you liked. God forbid Butcher and the others hear him express his affection for you.

But you supposed you understood that any kind of vulnerability was difficult for him, especially in front of others. As much shit as you gave him, you also knew how to pick your battles with Ben.

“I told you. I’ll see you soon,” he said.

You once again tapped your nails, on your armrest this time. After a moment, you relented.

“Okay, baby. Have a safe flight,” you said, even if you were still frowning.

When Ben hung up with you, he let out a deep sigh.

An entire week with these juvenile cocksuckers was almost too much for him to fucking take. While he often felt your presence with you on the comm line during the actual mission, and the occasional phone call on long nights in between, it wasn’t the same. It wasn’t enough.

He was ready to go home.

The flight itself was fine, though dealing with civilians and the tiring experience of a long-ass flight made him even more antsy to land. Because even when they got to JFK, he still had a hired car waiting for him to drive him from the airport to get to Scarsdale, and to the apartment he shared with you. It had already been almost a year of you two living there, in a three-bedroom spanning two floors.

Ben hadn’t thought he would get used to such a small place, but it was all right. It had become his home, far more than the penthouses and party mansions ever were, at least.

When he finally got home and unlocked the front door of the apartment, he stepped into darkness. All the lights were off.

Odd, he thought. He called your name while he shut the door behind him, then flicked on the foyer light. He realized then that he hadn’t seen your car in the driveway. Were you still working? It wasn’t unlike you to get caught up with the paperwork and other logistics after a case.

After a quick look around of each room, from the kitchen to the living room, Ben knew you hadn’t come home yet. A frown marred his face.

He went upstairs and entered the bedroom next. He unclipped his wrist guards and took his gloves off first, followed by loosening the collar of his supe suit. The bed was made, untouched since this morning, he was sure.

Then he noticed the scrap of paper resting on his pillow. He picked it up, and his brows furrowed as he read.

By the time you find me, she’ll wish she was dead.

Ben called Grace Mallory first.

When she didn’t answer, he called Butcher next. Ben’s hand shook the slightest bit while holding the phone up to his ear.

“Evenin’, guv,” Butcher answered with a tired sigh. “What’s this about—”

“We have a fucking problem,” Ben growled.

Ben pushed the limits of his Mercedes Benz while driving himself to Supe Affairs.

The others met him there in a conference room, except for Grace, who was on an active case at the moment. There Hughie and Frenchie tapped into the S.A. security footage on their laptops.

They eventually found you getting into your car in the S.A. garage, about four hours ago. Then two later, the street cameras picked you up somewhere in the Village. Ben recognized the street.

You probably had dinner with your friend Yvette and her family, but you intended to make it home on time to meet Ben when you left around 9:00 p.m.

You had parallel parked at a meter on the street. According to the footage, it looked quiet and empty when you headed back to your car.

You were stopped by someone before you could get the driver’s side door open. It looked like a man’s height and build; he grabbed you by the shoulder and threw a punch you managed to dodge.

You put up a good fight, but you were eventually knocked out with what looked to be a crowbar, at first glance. When Hughie zoomed in, it was actually a black baton. Ben watched it all with a deepening frown. Anger churned in his gut and ignited his blood as he watched your unconscious body being hauled into a black SUV.

“That looks military-issued,” M.M. said, pointing at the baton that the suspect used to hit you.

Butcher nodded, and also noted the man’s fighting style. “That’s a professional.”

“He would have to be, to take her out,” M.M. said, glancing at Ben. “And the timing. They knew you were coming home. That note was personal, besides the fact that they were casing your place…they’ve probably been watching both of you, waiting for the chance to get the jump on you.”

“The question,” Butcher said, “is who the fuck would wanna tangle with Soldier Boy that badly?”

“Shit. That’s a laundry list, isn’t it?” Hughie said. M.M.’s glance told him to shut the fuck up.

Ben was silent, but his fury was mounting. His head turned sharply to Butcher.

“Get Mallory on the line. Now,” he barked. When no one moved quick enough for him, his temper snapped at its thinly held leash.

“I said right fucking now!”

Slowly you blinked your eyes open. For a moment, you were seeing in double vision. It soon cleared up to reveal dark, damp, musty surroundings.

It smelled familiar; after that mission to find and subdue Sapphire a couple of months ago, you’d recognize a New York sewer anywhere.

Fuuucking shit, you thought with a groan. Your head was aching. You felt a trickle of blood down the side of your neck, and you found yourself in a familiar position—seated on a metal chair with your hands secured behind your back. Your restraints felt like zip ties.

“You finally with us, sweetheart?” asked a man. His voice was smooth and commanding.

“Jackson, I don’t know about this,” whispered someone else. Another man, though he sounded slightly younger, reminding you of Hughie.

“Shut the fuck up, Tommy,” Jackson snapped.

At least you had a name. He stepped into the light that came from a couple of small lanterns. One was propped on top of a bucket by the wall. The other was on a plastic fold out table that you saw a few feet beside you.

The man who stepped into your line of vision was tall, maybe around Ben’s height, if just shy of his build. He was blonde, just like his skinnier friend. They shared some notable facial features and coloring, but while Jackson’s eyes were dark brown and self-assured, the younger man’s were blue and apprehensive. If you had to guess, they looked like brothers.

“Nice digs,” you remarked, gesturing with your gaze at your surroundings.

Jackson rose a brow, crossing his arms.

“You’re taking all this pretty well,” he said.

You huffed humorlessly.

“This isn’t exactly my first kidnapping,” you said.

He quirked his head and drew closer.

“All right. Well, since we’re on the clock, let me tell you why you’re here,” he said. He bent down in front of you so that his face was level with yours. “I need you, sweetheart. You’re going to tell me how to bring down Soldier Boy. How to kill him. How to end him. Then maybe, I’ll let you go without gouging out those pretty eyes.”

You stared back at Jackson with an expression that didn’t change.

Then you spat in his face.

And you expected the hard, back-handed slap that made your head whip to the side. It rattled you for a moment as you caught your breath, but you recovered enough to lean back in your seat. Your eyes met Jackson’s directly after he wiped his face with his shirt. “Tommy” stood off to the side behind his partner. He’d looked away when you were hit.

You focused on the other man, Jackson. He was wearing black cargo pants to match his boots, and a belt with a gun on his hip. He carried himself like a trained killer.

“Military, government agency, or private sector?” you asked.

His head tilted. He studied you, just like you were studying him.

“None of the above really,” he said. “Not anymore.”

He walked over to the fold out table, where he grabbed a black bag and unzipped it. A flash of silver gleamed as he pulled out one sharp instrument after the next. You had to hide your apprehension, and fear that made your insides tremble.

He glanced over at you.

“Let’s get started,” he said.

Hours later, you were teetering on the edge of consciousness.

After the last hit, you spat a wad of phlegm and blood onto Jackson’s shoes. He rotated the ache out of his hand. He looked down at you through furrowed brows.

“Damn, bitch,” he said, catching his breath. “You can take a hit. I’ll give you that.”

“My dad was a Marine, numb nuts,” you managed to reply, through labored breaths. “He used to hit harder with his open hand than all the strength in that limp-dick wrist of yours.”

Jackson smirked. “Christ. Daddy issues, huh? Why doesn’t that surprise me.”

You gave him a droll look. Again, to cover your fear, because you weren’t willing to give him the satisfaction of seeing it.

Angered and frustrated by that defiance, he reached down and grabbed your neck and jaw with one hand. You winced at the force of his grip, but when he started squeezing, this was the one thing that made you truly whimper. You tried not to think about the ghost of your father’s hand around your neck.

“Don’t you get it, asshole?” you gritted out while struggling for breath. “You can’t kill him. No one can. Stronger, smarter people than you have tried.”

Moments ticked by while Jackson contemplated your words.

Then he released you. You sucked in gulps of air and tried not to cough out a lung.

“Maybe,” he said. “But Soldier Boy’s got a weakness. If anyone knows it, I’ve got a feeling it’s you.”

You can’t say anything. You can’t, you can’t, you can’t.

That had been your mantra for every minute you had spent in this hole. You shook your head.

“Look, Jackson.” You sucked in another breath to steady yourself, and blink a drip of blood out of your eyes. “He’s going to kill you. You and your brother. Take your family and run, while you’ve still got a chance.”

“…You know what? You’re probably right,” Jackson said, scratching the back of his head with his crimson-stained hand. “But I just realized something.”

He leaned down again, until he was level with your face.

“When he finds you, drowned in your own goddamn blood…I think the look on his face might just be enough for me.”

Your eyes widened.

It took days. Three painful days to pick up the threads, which led closer to home than anyone could’ve anticipated.

Grace Mallory put pressure across the chain of command, and even reached out to the FBI for assistance. An alert email finally came to her phone, and she realized that an agent on her own payroll had been flagged for never reporting back for his debriefing on a reconnaissance mission.

That agent was Jackson Rawlins.

The further she read into his file, the worse her frown became. She immediately sent the lead to Ben, Butcher, and the rest of the team to run down. For the first time in years, Grace actually prayed.

She prayed that they would reach you in time. It wasn’t until then that she realized it; she hadn’t thought of you as a cog in her system for some time now—not even as leverage against Soldier Boy. She was genuinely concerned about you.

Grace worried that she was setting herself up for disappointment…if it was too late. However, she also worried about what would happen if you didn’t survive. She considered how Ben might react, with that nuclear power within him that he was still learning to control. The consequences of this mission could very well be catastrophic.

You were losing track of time in this windowless pit. You knew it had been days, but you didn’t remember how many. The cellar was cold, and the way sound and air traveled, it felt like you were underground. It certainly smelled like it—damp and gross. It made you certain this was a sewer.

Now this is Satan’s ass crack, you thought. You winced at the pain that radiated…pretty much everywhere. Blood had dried from various lacerations across your face, neck, chest, and arms, and bruises were dark against your skin.

Your blouse was in tatters, and your jeans had bleeding rips as well, though at least he’d kept your ankle boots on. You were too weak even for hunger. And a large, heavy chain attached to manacles on your wrists had replaced the zip ties. One end of the chain was fastened between the wall and a line of plumbing.

Footsteps echoed down the hall behind you. You closed your eyes and steeled yourself.

“Are we actually gonna have a conversation today?” Jackson asked.

“Depends,” you replied, your voice dry and coarse. “Are you going to tell me why you hate Ben so much?”

An angry sigh escaped Jackson’s lips. He pointed up in frustration.

“Ben.” Jackson rolled and cracked his neck, like just the mention of your boyfriend’s real name was disgusting to this man.

“You talk about him like he’s a real fucking person. Not like the animal supe he is,” he said.

“He is a person,” you said, both in exhaustion, and in pain. “And he’s trying to be better. Look, he’s done terrible things. I’m not saying he hasn’t. I don’t know what he’s done to you in the past, but—”

Jackson shut you up with a sharp backhand. It made black spots encroach on your vision as you caught your breath.

You noticed his brother Tom come in the room as well, to watch and worry. He didn’t seem comfortable with this way of things. He looked like a civilian. Maybe you could use that to your advantage…

But you lost track of thought after that, when Jackson started in on you with either his hands, or the creativity of the instruments on the table nearby.

You tried to block out the pain, along with his questions about Ben. If you couldn’t talk about him, you couldn’t let yourself think about him. So you couldn’t say anything.

Not about the Novichok nerve agent, one of the few things that had been found to incapacitate him. Not his imprisonment by Vought or the S.A.—nothing that your captor could one day use against Ben.

You can’t. You can’t. You can’t.

Even though all you wanted right now was him.

Ben, please…

You zoned in and out of consciousness from there.

When you next registered being awake, mercifully, you were left alone. You raised your head when Tom came to blot at least some of your wounds and give you water. You’d only eaten small pieces of protein bars for days.

“I’m sorry,” Tom whispered.

“Why does he want Ben?” you wheezed. “Why are you going along with this if you’re so damn sorry?”

Tom looked up at you with pain and grief in his blue eyes. He sighed and dragged a nearby chair from the table. He sat beside you while he fed you half a protein bar. It was a struggle to even get the pieces down.

“Last year,” said Tom, clearing his throat. “I lived in the building that Soldier Boy blew up when he got back from…wherever the Russians had him.”

Your eyes widened as you processed that. “You…but you made it out. Why—”

“I wasn’t home. I was at work,” Tom said. His voice was pained as his eyes became red and glassy. “Our mom wasn’t so lucky.”

You sighed, closing your eyes.

“She was retired, and I was taking care of her,” Tom said. He wiped at his eyes and sniffed. “Jackson wasn’t here. He was on a mission in Colombia. Told me he was cleaning up some cartel shit.”

At that, you had a sneaking suspicion that coiled in your gut. Ben had left a bit of a mess when he peaced out of Colombia, with an entire plane filled with drugs and weapons from whatever cartel he’d infiltrated. (In his words, he’d cut the head off the snake.)

Grace told you she’d sent a team in to handle that mess…

“Your brother—who does he work for?” you asked. Though you had a feeling you knew the answer.

Tom seemed to read your understanding, and his face turned grim.

“The CIA,” he said.

Fuck, you grimaced. So not only had Ben been responsible for their mother’s death, but Jackson had been part of the team that cleaned up his mess in South America. It explained why Jackson was somehow able to find your information; Supe Affairs had become a subsect of the CIA, thanks to Grace.

“I didn’t know he was planning this. I swear to God. All he said was that he had a way to get at Soldier Boy,” Tom said. You let out a deep breath.

“I’m sorry for your loss. I really am,” you said. Tears welled up hot in your eyes. “But you need to let me go. For your own safety, believe me.”

You saw the guilt, the sadness, the regret on Tom’s face. The brief indecision was overtaken when he glanced down the hall. You knew then that he was more afraid of his own brother than he was willing to do the right thing.

Your tears spilled over, though you tried to breathe through it. You’d tried to save them for when you were alone, those seldom few, cold hours, but you were reaching your breaking point.

“Okay, before I go, do you have to use the bathroom?” Tom asked. There was a bucket in the corner, and Jackson preferred it away from the chair. It was the only time Tom was allowed to unchain you from the wall and let you stretch your legs.

Letting out an exhausted sigh, you nodded in agreement. It was humiliating to know you were going to have to do this yet again, in a bucket, with company. With the manacles still on your wrists, he brought you over to the “special” corner.

Tom sighed and looked away to give you some semblance of privacy.

That was when you used every scrap of energy you had left in you.

You grabbed the chain and yanked it out of his hands long enough to wrap it around his neck from behind. You cut off his sounds of strain and kicked out his knees, so he was forced to kneel on the ground.

You wrapped the rest of the chain around your thigh, giving you the leverage you needed to tighten your grip and choke him out, until he was unconscious. His body fell to the side, and you heaved for breath. Once again, there were black spots in your vision, but you did your best to blink them away.

Now set with determination, you made your way to the plastic table and searched for the key to your chains. After the manacles were unlocked, you rubbed at your raw wrists and rapidly scanned the room. Adrenaline pumped through your veins as you calculated which way you should go to try and escape.

There were three possibilities in this clearing under the sewer: left, right, or straight ahead. Every time Tom or Jackson emerged, it sounded like it was behind you. The chair was facing to the east, which meant you had to take the left tunnel.

You ran in that direction and tried to find a metal ladder that would take you to whatever manhole cover these guys had detached. Someone couldn’t just open up any of those iron plates without the right tools, from the inside or the outside.

You walked as fast as you could manage, even though your entire body protested in pain. Then finally, you saw a black duffel bag lying on the ground, against the wall. Next to it was a metal ladder that went all the way up to the top.

“Jackson, don’t!”

You heard Tom’s voice, but you felt the presence behind you too late. Jackson hit you in the back of the head with that damn baton, so hard that even he grimaced at how the sound echoed on the walls. You crumpled to the ground.

Jackson stood over you with a grim set to his face. He turned to his brother with a shake of his head.

“She’s a walking welt, and you couldn’t handle her?” he said.

“This is too much,” Tom said in worry. He bent down and held two fingers to your neck. He still felt a pulse, at least, but when he felt behind your head, he found blood. His hand shook as he stared at it.

“If you didn’t want in on this, you should’ve said so from the beginning,” said Jackson. He spun the baton in his hand and clipped the hilt to his belt, from a small metal loop on the end of it.

“You didn’t say anything about…about this!” Tom argued. He cleaned your blood off on his jacket.

Jackson regarded his brother with disappointment, and he hefted you up into his arms. Tom followed him back to their setup with your makeshift prison. There Jackson left you lying on the ground, and chained you back up by your wrists for good measure. He then literally and figuratively wiped his hands of you.

“Come on, we’re leaving,” he said. “For good this time.”

Tom looked at you, then his brother in shock. There was even emotion in his eyes.

“We’re leaving her to die,” he said, his voice unsteady. He knew then, that their mother wouldn't have wanted this in her name. If she saw both of them now, she wouldn't recognize them.

Jackson grabbed his younger brother where his neck met his shoulder. An iron grip.

“And what do you think Soldier Boy is going to do if he finds us?” Jackson asked. His gaze encouraged Tom to explore that reality for a moment.

Jackson nodded at your unconscious form. “Trust me, that bitch was never going to talk. But this is almost better.”

It wasn’t right, Tom thought. He knew it, deep in his heart, but he wasn’t strong like his brother, or even like you.

That was when they heard it. The rumble of engines dying and tires rolling overhead, dislodging a few stray pebbles and dust from the ceiling. Jackson’s eyes widened.

“Fuck!” he muttered. “All right, let’s go.”

Jackson forced his younger brother to leave the sewer with him, and leave you chained up on the floor.

Ben, Butcher, M.M., and Frenchie had done much of the legwork in tracking down Jackson Rawlins and his brother Tom (with help from Annie, Kimiko, and Hughie of course). Frenchie had found your likely location with a powerful thermal scanner, courtesy of Grace.

Now, they’d driven up to the wide alley in the city and blocked off all the exits on the block. Ben was the first to get his boots on the ground and stride toward the point of entry, where according to Frenchie’s scanners, more than one body was holed up in the sewer. He held his shield at his side and at the ready when the manhole cover loosened, and slid open.

A small gas bomb rolled out towards his feet, but it was just tear gas, not the kind of thing that could actually affect him. Ben picked up the little round ball of metal and crushed it in his hand. While the rest of the team dove for the oxygen masks stored in the car, Ben stalked forward.

Seeing the silhouette of a man, Ben threw his shield hard enough to rattle a supe.

Jackson Rawlins was thrown clean onto his back with a force that stole the breath from his lungs, even through his gas mask. It also broke half a dozen ribs. Ben was soon bearing on top of him and ripping off the mask.

Jackson cried out as remnants of the tear gas seared his eyes.

“Got us a runner!” Butcher shouted. He intercepted and grabbed up a second man who tried to escape. Tom Rawlins wasn’t the threat, but he still wasn’t going free. M.M. and Frenchie also dove down into the sewer to try and find you after they got their gas masks on.

Meanwhile, Ben hauled Jackson up by his neck and walked him back until he hit the brick wall beside a nail salon. Jackson grunted in pain. Every breath he took was now agonizing, thanks to his now battered and broken ribs.

“Where is she?” Ben demanded.

Jackson actually laughed in his face, despite his now bloodshot eyes.

“All you fucking supes are the same,” he said. “But you…you’re the worst. Quite literally, the original asshole. And what does the government do? What does the world do? Gives you a pass on decades of indiscretions, fuck ups, and straight up murder.”

Ben didn’t outwardly react, but he knew what Jackson’s problem was. He knew he killed the man’s family. Collateral damage—something that had caused Ben more than one argument with you in the past.

But he didn’t care.

He didn’t care, because all he could see in his mind’s eye was a metal bat hitting the back of your head and knocking you clean out. He saw you being taken against your will. Taken from him. And that, he couldn’t abide.

“Where. Is she?” Ben said, as his grip flexed around the other man’s neck. It would be easy. Easier than snapping a toothpick. And he warned, “Don’t make me fucking repeat myself.”

“Dead, probably,” Jackson spat, despite his red and bleary eyes. “Real tough bitch. I see why you’re fucking her…I had me a little taste myself.”

In that moment, Ben couldn’t compute.

His green eyes widened. His breath stilled.

Then his jaw clenched so tight that his teeth were grinding. A fire in his blood and behind his eyes, and fury that burned hot in his chest, almost giving it that nuclear glow.

His hand tightened and choked any salacious words Jackson might’ve spewed out next.

“He didn’t!” Tom shouted out. He was being restrained by Butcher. Ben glanced at them out of the corner of his eye.

“He didn’t touch her. Not like that,” Tom said. He looked sincere.

“Shut the fuck up, Tommy,” said his older brother.

It earned Ben’s attention back. Jackson had the look of a man who knew he was going to die either way.

Ben’s lips curled into a sneer. He took the man’s head with both hands, and slowly crushed his skull. The scream echoed between Ben’s ears, but he was only satisfied when Jackson’s lifeless body dropped at his feet.

He turned to the other Rawlins next.

Tom had screamed as well to watch his brother’s life ended before his eyes. He now stared straight into Soldier Boy’s, pleading wordlessly for his own life. Ben started toward him.

“Please,” Tom said. He tried twisting away from Butcher, who held firm to the man’s arm. The Brit knew all too well, the rage that Ben had in his blood.

“Ben,” Annie tried, and she even stepped forward. Butcher held a hand out against her with a knowing look. It wouldn’t be wise to stand in the way.

“Hey!” M.M. shouted up from down the open hatch of the sewer. “We found her! Need help getting her loose.”

Ben paused in his steps. Tom was shaking, lips trembling, petrified.

Tilting his head, Ben let out a subtle breath through his nose. He began to turn back toward the sewer.

At the last moment, however, he drew his gun and shot Tom Rawlins between the eyes. The man was dead before he hit the ground.

Annie and Hughie flinched, but Butcher and Kimiko weren’t surprised in the least.

Meanwhile, Ben made his way back towards M.M.’s voice, and into the sewer. He heard M.M. and Frenchie arguing about first aid and head wounds, the further in he went. Ben’s dark mood blackened even more along the way.

Once he reached them, he also reached you, held in M.M.’s arms as he cradled your head.

You were unconscious with your wrists locked into heavy chains. The furrow between Ben’s brows deepened, but he got down to his knees beside you and first, broke your chains. He guided you out of M.M.’s arms and into his own, making sure to support your head. Blood was already staining his half-glove and fingers.

It was then that he noticed the small crimson pool lying where your body had been, likely from the wound he could feel at the back of your head. Ben’s mouth trembled the slightest bit, mostly in anger as he drew himself back onto his feet. Your body was littered with bruises, cuts both shallow and deep made by what looked like a blade, and God knew what else.

“I had me a little taste myself,” Jackson had taunted.

No, Ben internally shook that thought from his mind. No, you hadn’t been touched like that, at least, according to the sniveling, cock-sucking brother.

But can you trust that little cunt’s word?

Ben briefly closed his eyes, pressing his lips to your forehead. He continued walking down the hall and towards the light and fresh air of the world above.

You’re gonna be just fine, he promised you, if just within the safety of his mind.

Yeah, you would be all right.

He was going to make sure of it.

AN: 🫣 I'm sorry...BUT, I can promise it will get better (eventually). First, it's going to get worse.

Next Time:

It was a slow process, and it hurt, but you managed to turn your head. You saw a man sitting in the corner with a laptop balanced on his lap. He typed with two fingers at a time, which reminded you of your grandfather. His brown hair fell over his furrowed brows, but his beard was well trimmed.

His head soon raised, possibly feeling the weight of your gaze. His eyes widened a fraction, and he hastily closed the laptop and set it down on his seat before he went to you. You frowned when he came to sit at your bedside, and even touched your cheek with a gentle hand.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he said. His voice was deep and smooth. “How’re you feeling?”

You didn’t have the energy to lean away from his hand, but you did give him a look of weary confusion.

“I…I don’t…who are you?” you asked.

▶️ Keep Reading: PART 2

Ko-Fi Me ☕

Break Me Down Masterlist

Soldier Boy Masterlist

Main Masterlist

BMD/Series Tag List (Part 1):

@deans-spinster-witch @this-is-me19 @waynes-multiverse @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @spalady26

@spnwoman @syrma-sensei @wirdbeimaufhebengebunden @muhahaha303 @123passwort

@mrsjenniferwinchester @lyarr24 @xoxovienna @lollag0w0 @globetrotter28

@nancymcl @ashbatz @secretdreamlandmentality @kristophalis @wonderland2022

@emily-winchester @shelh93 @sl33pylilbunny @spoonmynoodle @chernayawidow

@buckybarnes-1917 @asgardprincess97 @sometimes-i-sing @itsyellow @theonlymaninthesky

@kimberleymjw @is-this-a-febreze-commercial @iamsapphine @sanscas @se-fucking-hun

@lassie-bird @jessjad @yepimthatperson @fromcaintodean @stoneyggirl2

@spnfamily-j2 @im-a-slut-for-fluff @lacilou @venicesem @mimaria420

@tearsfortheyouth @agalliasi @chriszgirl92 @kazsrm67 @deansbbyx

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thelasttime · 2 years

Text

surprise songs - eras tour

3/17 - glendale, arizona : “mirrorball” and “tim mcgraw”

3/18 - glendale, arizona: “this is me trying” and “state of grace”

3/24 - las vegas, nevada: “our song” and “snow on the beach”

3/25 - las vegas, nevada: “cowboy like me” and “white horse”

3/31 - arlington, texas: “sad beautiful tragic” and “ours”

4/1 - arlington, texas: “death by a thousand cuts” and “clean”

4/2 - arlington, texas: “jump then fall” and “the lucky one”

4/13 - tampa, florida: “speak now” and “treacherous”

4/14 - tampa, florida: “the great war” and “you’re on your own kid”

4/15 - tampa, florida: “mad woman” and “mean”

4/21 - houston, texas: “wonderland” and “you’re not sorry”

4/22 - houston, texas: “a place in this world” and “today was a fairytale”

4/23 - houston, texas: “begin again” and “cold as you”

4/28 - atlanta, georgia: “the other side of the door” and “coney island”

4/29 - atlanta, georgia: “high infidelity” and “gorgeous”

4/30 - atlanta, georgia: “i bet you think about me” and “how you get the girl”

5/5 - nashville, tennessee: “sparks fly” and “teardrops on my guitar”

5/6 - nashville, tennessee: “out of the woods” and “fifteen”

5/7 - nashville, tennessee: “would’ve, could’ve, should’ve” and “mine”

5/12 - philadelphia, pennsylvania: “gold rush” and “come back…be here”

5/13 - philadelphia, pennsylvania: “forever & always” and “this love”

5/14 - philadelphia, pennsylvania: “hey stephen” and “the best day”

5/19 - foxborough, massachusetts: “should’ve said no” and “better man”

5/20 - foxborough, massachusetts: “…question?” and “invisible”

5/21 - foxborough, massachusetts: “i think he knows” and “red”

5/26 - east rutherford, new jersey: "getaway car" and "maroon"

5/27 - east rutherford, new jersey: “holy ground” and “false god”

5/28 - east rutherford, new jersey: "welcome to new york" and "clean"

6/2 - chicago, illinois: "i wish you would" and "the lakes"

6/3 - chicago, illinois: "you all over me" and "i don't wanna live forever"

6/4 - chicago, illinois: “hits different” and “the moment i knew”

6/9 - detroit, michigan: "haunted" and "i almost do"

6/10 - detroit, michigan: "all you had to do was stay" and "breathe"

6/16 - pittsburgh, pennsylvania: "mr. perfectly fine" and "the last time"

6/17 - pittsburgh, pennsylvania: "seven" and "the story of us"

6/23 - minneapolis, minnesota: “paper rings” and “if this was a movie”

6/24 - minneapolis, minnesota: “dear john” and “daylight”

6/30 - cincinnati, ohio: "i'm only me when i'm with you" and "evermore"

7/1 - cincinnati, ohio: “ivy,” “i miss you, i’m sorry,” and “call it what you want”

7/7 - kansas city, missouri: “never grow up” and “when emma falls in love”

7/8 - kansas city, missouri: “last kiss” and “dorothea”

7/14 - denver, colorado: “picture to burn” and “timeless”

7/15 - denver, colorado: “starlight” and “back to december”

7/22 - seattle, washington: “this is why we can’t have nice things” and “everything has changed”

7/23 - seattle, washington: "tied together with a smile" and "message in a bottle"

7/28 - santa clara, california: “right where you left me” and “castles crumbling”

7/29 - santa clara, california: “stay stay stay” and “all of the girls you loved before”

8/3 - los angeles, california: "i can see you" and "maroon"

8/4 - los angeles, california: "our song" and "you are in love"

8/5 - los angeles, california: “death by a thousand cuts” and “you’re on your own kid”

8/6 - los angeles, california: "i know places" and "king of my heart"

8/7 - los angeles, california: "new romantics" and "new year's day"

8/24 - mexico city, mexico: "i forgot that you existed" and "sweet nothing"

8/25 - mexico city, mexico: "tell me why" and "snow on the beach"

#.txt #ok it's more aesthetic like this #eras tour surprise songs #surprise songs slaylist

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heavyhitterheaux · 4 months

Text

Best Friend's Boyfriend (NSFW)

Synopsis: You and Jack run in the same circle of friends, and you both have feelings for each other but are scared to admit them. Your best friend knows how much you like him and swears that he doesn't like you back. Instead of helping you to ask Jack out on a date, she starts to date him all in a plan to make you jealous. But you get the last laugh in the end.

Pairing: Jack Harlow x Best Friend!Reader

Requested by: an amazing anon 💕

Do not engage if you are underage

Please Do Not Repost My Content Anywhere

A sigh escaped your lips as you took another swig of your drink and looked over to your left and rolled your eyes.

She was all over him.

Again.

Her being your “friend” Skylar.

Him being one of your close friends, Jack.

You and Jack had been friends since you met in middle school at the age of eleven and you didn't meet Skylar until you moved to Atlanta with Jack.

Your entire group of friends decided to spend a week in Denver staying at an expensive top of the line cabin since it had been awhile since you all had seen one another.

Well since they had seen you.

In the back of your mind, you were debating on if you were going to leave and cut your trip short because you weren't quite sure how much more you could take.

Recently, you and Skylar had spent some time together when you confessed to her in confidence that you saw Jack more than a friend, but you weren't quite sure if he felt the same way towards you.

So what did she do?

Go out on a date with him despite your feelings and they had been together for the past two months.

After that occurred, you distanced yourself from the both of them and when Jack would try to invite you somewhere, you steadily declined. He had been missing you and was very excited when you said yes when he asked you to come to Denver.

However, the only reason that you agreed was because you had been told Skylar would not be in attendance. So when you arrived, you immediately wanted to walk back out the door and go home.

Even though she was all over him, Jack looked uninterested, but your thoughts were interrupted by Urban coming to sit next to you. Besides Skylar, he was the only one who knew how you felt about Jack.

Urban had told you time and time again to tell him, but being as shy as you were, you decided against it.

“You okay? If I would’ve known…”

“It's fine, Urby. Don't worry about it. Just have to make the best of it I guess.” You replied while shrugging.

“If it makes you feel any better, Jack is not as interested in her as she thinks he is. Probably won't last too much longer.”

“But it’s the fact that she calls herself my friend and then goes behind my back and….”

Urban immediately cut you off.

“She's not your friend. Friends don't do what she did.”

“I have a feeling that she used me to get to him. Urban, you know I’m quiet and wouldn't harm a fly. She took advantage of that.” You confessed as you poured yourself another glass of some wine that Jack had bought for you since he knew red was your favorite. It was a new brand that you had never tried before.

“I know, but karma's a bitch. She’ll get hers.”

“And it seems as if she doesn't care. She acts like nothing happened between us. How? How can she do that? I told her how I felt and…”

“Tell him how you feel. That's who matters in all this anyway.” Your eyes went wide at Urban's suggestion and you quickly shook your head no.

“I guarantee you that it will go better than you think. He really misses you.”

Before you could have a chance to respond, Jack made his way over to the both of you and picked you up and brought you into a hug.

Urban simply smirked as he looked behind you and Jack to see Skylar rolling her eyes at the scene in front of her.

The one thing that Urban didn't tell you was the fact that Jack liked you as well. Jack thought the feelings weren't reciprocated and when Skylar approached him to ask him out on a date, he figured why not?

Even though he had been around her for a few years because of you two being friends, he didn't notice that something was off until he had spent more time with her when it was just the two of them. He often talked about you, but all Skylar would do is talk down about you and that was one thing he put a stop to immediately.

He didn't know why he kept her around for so long, but quickly made a decision that when this trip was over, he was done with her. He had a feeling that was why you would decline when he asked you to hang out with him. He also noticed how the two of you seemed to have drifted apart within the last year, and not just recently.

However, Urban didn't like her from the moment you introduced her to them.

“I missed you.” Jack said as he whispered in your ear before hugging you tighter and you immediately melted into his arms.

“I missed you too, bubs.”

“I have you for an entire week and I'm definitely taking advantage of it. Did you like the wine I got for you? I know red is your favorite and my mom said that you might like it.”

“It's really good and I'm definitely getting a few bottles when we get back home. Thanks for thinking of me.”

“Always.” Jack said as his hands rested on your waist and he quickly reached up and poked your nose making you laugh.

A minute later Sunni and Cope came through the front door with bags of food since no one had wanted to cook when you all had gotten there and set them on the counter in the kitchen. All of you decided to simply relax the first night and then do different things around Denver for the remainder of the time that you were there.

“Finally! I'm starving!” Exclaimed Urban who was hot on their trail.

You and Jack laughed and it looked like he wanted to tell you something before Skylar had called his name.

One thing you did notice was him sighing when she did it, wondering what that was about.

“Babe! Can you fix my plate and bring it to me!?”

“Sure.” Jack said quietly, but he still had his eyes on you.

“We’ll continue this later.” He said as he leaned down to whisper it and you immediately nodded.

—

“What movie are we watching?” You asked as everyone had gotten their food and made their way back into the living room.

“Y/N! Come and sit by me.” Skylar piped up and said and you looked at her confused. Jack was hoping that you would say yes while Urban stifled a laugh once he saw the look on your face.

“Sorry, Urban already asked me.” You answered without missing a beat and going to sit next to him.

“The Nun!” Cope suggested and you knew for a fact that you would probably have to sleep in Urban's room if everyone agreed on that.

“I’m not watching any scary shit. Next.” Sunni said and Cope rolled his eyes.

“Bad Boys 3! The next one is coming out in a few months.” Jack said as he was scrolling through his phone.

“I still can't believe he slapped Chris Rock.”

“I don't see how anyone finds him funny anyway.” You said remembering all the movies that you had seen him in.

You had fallen asleep during every single one.

“I second that. When it first happened, I thought it was a joke.”

“Play stupid games, win stupid prizes.”

Jack glanced over at Skylar who was now downing another wine cooler and he noticed that she hadn't stopped drinking since they had gotten there earlier in the day.

“Uhh Skylar, do you want me to get you some water?” He asked concerned and she quickly turned up her nose at him.

“For what? If I wanted it, I would have gotten it.”

“I was just asking.” Jack replied as he held his hands up in defense and you quickly rolled your eyes.

One thing Skylar could not do was hold her liquor. It would go one of two ways, her crying and throwing up, or her being knocked out for hours. You were hoping it was the latter so you would be able to have Jack to yourself for a while.

—

The movie had finally ended and Skylar having gotten drunk off her ass was now passed out on the couch which you weren't surprised by. However, you were caught off guard when Jack asked you to help take her upstairs.

“Um, sure.”

You weren't quite sure exactly what you were helping with since Jack could easily carry her but said yes anyway.

He told you to go first up the steps as he slung Skylar easily over his shoulder. You couldn't wait to go to sleep yourself in the hopes of tomorrow being a better day for you.

All Jack did was lay her on the bed and once you turned around to leave, he caught your hand.

“Y/N?”

“Yeah? What's wrong?” You asked after growing suddenly concerned.

Jack held your hand for a few minutes before opening his mouth and responding to you.

“I… should have never said yes to going on a date with her when I knew that you were the person that I wanted. I didn't know if you felt the same way so the easiest thing to do was to distract myself.”

Your heart felt like it was going to beat out of your chest before it suddenly felt as if it had dropped down to your stomach.

“It wasn't supposed to be like this and I quickly learned that she only wants me because of what my name is attached to. I don't like her as a person at all. Now I see what Urb was talking about.”

“Jack….”

“Let me finish. You know she's a heavy sleeper and the last thing she is about to do is wake up. I've liked you since I met you but was entirely too scared to say anything.”

“I… I told Skylar how I felt about you and instead of helping me figure out a way to approach you about it, she goes and asks you out for herself. She continues to act like nothing happened as if we're still close but that was…. Friends don't do what she did.”

You felt as if a weight had been lifted off your chest once everything was finally out in the open.

“So that's why you've been avoiding me for two months?” Jack asked as he pinched your cheek.

“I didn't want to, but I felt as if distance was best.”

You said as you shrugged.

“Do me a favor?”

“Anything.”

“Never do that again.”

“I won’t. Promise.”

You turned to walk away once more when Jack had suddenly stopped you and captured you in a kiss catching you off guard. You eagerly kissed him back and the two of you were in a full blown makeout session when Jack's hand snuck under your shirt. He smiled when he came to the realization that you weren't wearing a bra.

“I need this off of you.” He said as he massaged your left breast and kissed down your neck.

“But… she's right there.”

“So, what's your point babe? I know you want this just as much as I do. But just say the word if you want me to stop.”

Jack was met with silence and he easily got your shirt off in one swift movement as he laughed and kissed the shell of your ear.

“I didn't think so.”

Jack's hand quickly reached into your shorts and began to rub small circles along your clit and he simply smirked noticing how wet you were.

“Mmm, all of that for me, huh?” He asked as he moved his fingers up to his mouth to taste you.

All you could do was eagerly nod as he cupped your face to kiss you once more.

“You taste so good, but I want more. I need you to do something for me, pretty girl.”

“What do you want me to do?”

“Go and lay on the bed.”

“I..”

“Keep quiet and don't make a sound because I’ll stop. Lay on the bed and I'm going to fuck you right next to her.”

Your adrenaline was pumping at the thought of getting caught, but the last thing you were going to tell Jack was no. Slipping off your shorts, you did as you were told as you noticed Skylar had rolled to the other side of the bed and let out a loud snore as Jack quickly undressed and began stroking himself while peering down at you making your mouth water.

Jack then climbed on top of you leaving a trail of kisses down your body until he got to your most prized possession and spread your legs apart and he took one long lick making you gasp.

“Shh, stay quiet for me. Look how pretty this pussy is.”

Your hand instantly went over your mouth in an attempt to keep quiet as Jack pleasured you. He then inserted two of his fingers as he sucked on your clit. A moan escaped your mouth for a quick second, but you quickly recovered in the hopes of not waking Skylar up.

“You taste so good, baby. I can't wait until you cum all over my face.”

Not trusting your voice because you knew the second your mouth opened that a moan would escape, you eagerly nodded your head as you started to roll your nipples in between your fingers as Jack continued to give you his undivided attention.

You didn't know how much time had passed, but Jack had made you release all over his face multiple times before you slowly felt him slide into you. The sensation made you gasp and he quickly kissed you to make sure you stayed quiet.

Your arms instantly went around his neck as he began to increase his pace. Jack had taken one of your nipples in his mouth when you felt Skylar move. You know Jack felt it too, but all he did was bite down which he knew was going to lead to you squirming. Once he lifted his head back up, he smirked at you before continuing to pound into you.

“You’re taking me so well, pretty girl.”

“Jack…” That was the first time you had moaned his name all night which quickly gave him an ego boost as it escaped from your lips.

“I’m…..”

“Close? Me too. Come on then, baby. Cum for me, cum all over this dick that's rightfully yours.”

That was all it took as you reached your peak with Jack then releasing all over your chest and stomach.

All that could be heard was heavy breathing as both of you were trying to catch your breath. Jack was still hovering over you and leaned down to kiss you as his fingers started to slowly rub small circles along your clit once more. He quickly heard your whimpers and smirked.

“Hmm, didn't take you for a girl who would fuck her best friend's boyfriend.”

“All she did was keep my spot warm until I could rightfully take my place. Now it's my turn. Lay down and let me ride you.” You said as you leaned up to kiss him.

#jack harlow #jack harlow fic #jack harlow concepts #jack harlow x reader #jack harlow x black reader #jack harlow fanfic #jack harlow fluff #jack harlow imagine #jack harlow smut #jack harlow imagines #jack harlow fanfiction

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thisreadswhatever · 11 months

Text

The Chase: Part One

Pretty Sweet

series masterlist

[description]: jax teller x female reader

[wordcount]: 2.7k+

[summary]: Jax Teller is used to getting what he wants. At least that was the case before he met you.

[cw]: 18+ only minors do not interact - AU, follows some canon characters & themes but timeline is different. otherwise none yet, but stick with me, I have a smutty plan!

[authors note]: this has been really fun to write. thank you so much to this anon for requesting this idea! I plan on writing a good few parts of this.. as I am really loving writing this reader insert. if you have any ideas or suggestions on where you would like this to go, please let me know! I absolutely love getting your suggestions. I really hope you enjoy!

It had been a long sixteen hour drive. You sighed with relief as you sped past the large wooden slice, “WELCOME TO CHARMING”. You rolled your windows down, the wind blistering through your hair as you took in the warm California sun.

You turned the music up, attempting to drown out the events replaying in your head that led you here in the first place.

Charming wasn’t exactly on your bucket list of places to travel. Your parents had split a few years back, after your mom decided she could no longer handle the baggage that came with the Sons of Anarchy MC. Your Dad was an avid member of the Denver Charter, and she soon realised she couldn’t sit back and watch as he grew deeper into the Club. It was a quick and amicable divorce, made easier by the fact you were an only child and more than understanding of why the relationship had to end. You were old enough to see the pain your mom went through trying to make it work, and you knew that it was the best decision for them both. Your Dad on the other hand, never really got over it.

When your mom remarried last year, he decided to leave Colorado and transferred to the SAMCRO Charter. Charming was his home now. He’d been begging you to visit him for months, and despite the fact you were genuinely pleased that he was happy, seeing him so far from home and content without his family wasn’t something you’d looked forward too.

Charming was a small place, and from what your Dad had told you, it had never really left the seventies. Denver was the total opposite, a city full of life and people, and ever growing with new expanding chains of business. Even with the freezing winters, there was always something to do in Denver. But Charming? They barely had a population of fifteen thousand.

You had evaded the trip for as long as you could, blaming college assignments and exams for the reason you couldn’t make the drive. Now that you’d graduated, the excuses had run thin, and it was time to visit your Dad in Charming.

You pulled into the road of the address he had given you, entering a long unpaved driveway that ended on the outside of a dainty cabin. Your Dad’s bike was parked stagnant on the dirt. You dug your suitcase out from your trunk and walked up the wooden steps to the porch, bringing your hand to the door to knock. Before your knuckles could meet the wood, the door flung wide and your Dad lunged at you with open arms.

“You’re finally here!”, he squealed in excitement as he grasped you into a giant bear hug.

“‘Finally’ is right. That was a serious drive, Dad.”

He took your suitcase and carried it through the entryway. “Sure is. I’m so glad you got here safely, kiddo. Come on, let’s get you settled. You hungry? I was just about to make some lunch.”

You followed him inside as you observed the interior of the quaint, dusty cabin. “I could definitely eat.”

—

Your Dad showed you to your room and then became sidetracked from lunch, giving you a full tour of his new home and the complete low down of all things SAMCRO. He’d explained that the place was owned by the Club, but nobody ever frequented it unless they were in hiding. Your Dad was housed here for the long term, or at least until he could find something he liked better inside the Charming suburbs.

Once he’d caught you up, he made his start on lunch. You watched as he strolled throughout the kitchen, sitting patiently at the small round dining table.

“It’s a nice place, Dad. Not sure how I feel that you’re out here all alone though.”

“I’m barely here, kiddo. Spend most of my time down the Clubhouse.” He shrugged nonchalantly as he continued to make sandwiches, dropping a piece of turkey in the process. “I can’t wait for you to meet the guys, y/n. A lot more warm than the ones up in Denver. Some of them are your age too.” He placed the plate in front of you, and you grimaced at the site. Your Dad had never claimed to be a great chef.

“Thanks.” You smiled at him politely, taking a bite and struggling to swallow down the piece of dry sandwich. “I’m sure they’re great, Dad.”

“So, how’s your mom?”

You shrugged dismissively, unsure how to broach the uncomfortable topic of the newly weds. “She’s doing well. Mike is good to her.”

He nodded. “That’s good. I’m really glad she’s happy.”

It was hard to see your Dad try to be okay with the fact that your mom had moved on. The awkward silence was interrupted by his chair scraping against the floor as he stood up from the table. “Finish lunch and we can head on out. The guys are getting together at the Clubhouse tonight, you can meet them all there.”

You knew an evening with a bunch of Californian bikers was going to be inevitable during your trip. At least you could get it over with on the first night.

“Sounds great, Dad.”

—

You weren’t thrilled to be back in the confines of your car so soon after your long road trip, but your Dad knew better than to ask you to sit on the back of his motorcycle.

You rolled the windows down of your car as you followed his bike through the winding road from the cabin. As you re-entered Charming, you passed by locally run stores and cafes. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think this was a quiet, peaceful town. But you did know better. You knew what the Club’s presence actually meant for a small community like Charming. If SAMCRO was anything similar to the Denver Charter, the underworkings of this town would be anything but quiet and peaceful.

You pulled into the lot of Teller-Morrow Automotive Repairs, instantly drawn to the huge row of Harley motorcycles lined up on the inner bays.

Your Dad parked up and met you outside your car, telling you all about his new job in the garage as you walked together. He led you across the lot towards a small black door, entering into the SAMCRO clubhouse. It was impressive, a comfortable space with its own bar and lounge area. The place was full of MC memorabilia and pictures from the club’s long history. The furthest wall was centered by two large double doors that were surrounded by mugshots of the SAMCRO members. You had visited the Denver Clubhouse enough to know that room was where the decisions were made.

Your Dad introduced you one by one to several members that were there, a few of which he’d mentioned to you that afternoon. Bobby, Chibs, Trager, Juice and Opie all greeted you with open arms. They were extremely friendly and welcoming, just as your father had promised. The one your Dad called Trager seemed very pleased with your arrival, hugging you for a little too long. Your Dad managed to break the long embrace, pulling you away to start touring you around the building.

“Don’t get too close to that one, kiddo. He’s a little out there.”

You giggled as you nodded in agreement, “I’ll keep my distance.”

—

You sat alongside the club’s Secretary, Bobby, on a leather bench that faced out with a view of the entire room. You observed as the Clubhouse filled with more members and women, a handful of which were old ladies. The rest of them, very clearly single. Of all the members you’d met so far, Bobby had been the easiest to talk to. He clued you in on some of the Club’s legitimate businesses, Cara Cara and Red Woody Productions. You figured that’s where most of the girls came from, retired and current porn stars.

It was a little strange, and anyone else may have felt uneasy seeing their father in this kind of environment. But you were used to the life of girls and guns from growing up with a dad in a motorcycle club. The Denver Charter had its fair share of women in and out of their doors, but mainly just bartenders and the odd crow eater looking for a way in. These girls were more forward, scantily clothed, makeup on point, and obviously comfortable with their surroundings.

Bobby nudged your shoulder, regaining your attention from the party happening around you. “You know your Dad talks about you constantly. He’s so happy that you’re here, kid. We all are.”

You glanced over at your father, a huge smile forming as he collected a drink from the bar.

“He does seem happy. Just weird seeing him away from home.”

“You got a home here with us too now, y/n.” He placed his arm over you and squeezed your shoulder reassuringly, “we’re your family as much as we are his.”

“That’s really sweet, Bobby. Thanks.”

He pulled his arm back as he chuckled to himself, his large stomach bellowing as he laughed. “I am pretty sweet.”

Suddenly, the front door opened and a roar of drunken welcomes filled the clubhouse as two more members entered. The President of SAMCRO, Clay Morrow, walked in smiling ear to ear, hands held up as though he was a celebrity greeting his adoring fans. You’d heard a lot about Clay from your father, mainly that he was the initial sponsor for his transfer from Denver, and some remarks about what an ass he was. Behind him, a much younger member followed, embracing Opie as he entered. He was different from the other members, not totally clean cut, but you could at least tell he had showered. Not only was he bathed, he wasn’t harsh on the eyes either. You watched as he talked with Opie, his hands pushing his long blonde hair behind his ears as he spoke.

“Who’s that?” You asked Bobby, your eyes never feigning from the man.

“That’s Jax. Club’s VP.”

As you watched him converse with Opie, he suddenly glanced your way, locking eyes with you. You quickly turned away from him and back towards Bobby.

“He looks a little young to be Vice President”, you mumbled as you took a swig from your beer, still conscious that he was looking at you.

Bobby laughed, “Yeah, well, he’s a Teller. His Dad was First 9 alongside Clay and Piney Winston, Ope’s pops. Jax has been SAMCRO since he came out of the womb.”

You raised your eyebrows, glancing back over your shoulder. Jax’s attention had now been obtained by one of the Cara Cara girls. She was pulling him in by his cutte, batting her eyelashes at him as she leaned against the bar.

Bobby watched as you observed Jax. He sipped his drink, amused by your interest. “He’s known for his way with the ladies.”

You wanted to press Bobby further, but your Dad suddenly was stumbling over beside you, placing a hand on your shoulder.

“Come on over here, kid. I want you to meet my sponsor.”

“The asshole?”, you whispered to him as you stood up from the chair.

He snickered back at you, patting you on the back. “He’s having a good day.”

—

You were impressed by the brotherhood the Redwood Originals shared. It wasn’t unfamiliar to the Denver Charter, but the way the members of SAMCRO loved one another was palpable. You observed quietly throughout the night as they all ripped into each other with lighthearted banter and spilled beer all over the place. You were conflicted by the fact your Dad fit in so well here. It was painful to know he had chosen this life over one with you in Denver, but you still felt at peace knowing he had found a place in this family.

He was now slumped over a leather armchair in the lounge, snoozing after one too many beers. You nudged his shoulder, trying to wake him. “I’m gonna head back to the cabin, Dad. I’ll meet you here in the morning?”

“You sure, y/n?” He tried to stand up as he slurred, but his balance failed him, collapsing back into the seat. “I can lead you back-”

You chuckled, placing a hand on his head as he closed his eyes, “No way are you getting on a bike in this state. I remember the way.”

Tig overheard and slid himself beside you, placing an arm across your waist. “We’ll take care of him, sweetie. Don’t you worry. Get back safe, okay?”

You unwound from his grasp, collecting your bag from the coffee table as you searched through the contents for your keys. “Thanks Trager.”

A strange laugh left his throat as he watched you leave, before his face turned straight as a board. “Call me Tig.”

You said your goodbyes to the members that were sober enough to communicate, and made your way to the parking lot.

Jax Teller was sitting outside the clubhouse, journal and pencil in hand. He glanced up at the sound of the door opening, a lit cigarette hanging from his lips.

He smiled boldly, in a way that perplexed you. Almost like he was happy to see you, even though you’d never met. He took the cigarette from his lips as he asked, “you’re Ralph’s kid, right?”

“I usually just go by y/n.”

He placed his pencil inside the journal and tucked it snug in his cutte, standing from the bench. “It’s a nice thing you’re doing, coming all this way to see him.”

You nodded, “had to make sure my Dad wasn’t living with some crazed psychopaths, you know?”

He exhaled, his lips forming a perfect O as the smoke left his lips. “Pretty sure a few of those knuckleheads could pass for psychotic”, he teased. His mouth pulled into an infectious smile, and you couldn’t help but smile back.

Jax walked closer towards you, your bodies now inches apart. He held out an open pack of cigarettes, prompting you to take one. You shook your head, declining the offer.

“And what about you? How’s your level of sanity?”

Jax hesitated. “A work in progress.”

You smiled politely as you walked past him, making your way to the car. “Anyway, I was just leaving. Was nice meeting you.”

Jax’s brow creased in concern, “you heading to the cabin on your own?”

You looked over your shoulder to see him pacing behind you, flicking his cigarette to the cement.

“My Dad’s not exactly in riding order.”

“I can take you back.”

You stopped outside your car and turned to him, scoffing at how forward he was. “I met you thirty seconds ago.”

“So?” He shrugged.

“I don’t really think that’s appropriate.”

“I’m not asking to get in bed with you, y/n. You can ride the Harley with me and I’ll leave the second you’re in the cabin.”

You opened the car door, sliding into the seat. “Not gonna happen.”

“I won’t lay a hand on ya, darlin’,” he raised his hand up, smiling, “scouts honor.”

You pressed your lips together, suppressing yourself from giggling at his innocent gesture. “I don’t ride bikes.” You affirmed.

Jax cocked his head at you, confused at the statement. “Denver girl’s scared of bikes?”

Your eyes rolled at his assumption. “No offense, but I just met you. I’m not sure my safety is your concern.” You shut the car door, realising your window had been left ajar from the way there. You wanted to curse aloud that the good Californian weather enabled the opportunity to ride with the windows down.

Jax didn’t push further, nodding his head as he watched you settle into the driver's seat. “No offense taken.”

Jax leaned his head into the open window, resting his arms on the roof of the car. You turned the ignition, letting the engine roar to life. “Nice to meet you, Jax.”

“You too, darlin’. Will I see you again?”

You were looking directly at him, your faces parted only by the frame of the window between you. “I’m here for the week, darlin’.”

His lips pulled from ear to ear, smiling playfully as you put the gear in reverse, forcing his hands off the car as you pulled out of the parking lot. You peaked in the rear-view mirror, finding Jax still watching you drive away into the Charming night.

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hvlplvss · 11 months

Text

| LIGHT SHOWER

colby brock x singer!reader

summary: in which, colby brock is watching the opening show of his girlfriends tour, PORTALS, and he comes to realise a song is dedicated purely to him.

warnings: pure fluff. that’s all i have to say at this point. small mention of previous bad relationships

authors note: inspired by the song LIGHT SHOWER by melanie martinez. ur baso melanie martinez in this lmao. absolutely love her so i had to. but please just search on tiktok or smth ‘melanie martinez portals’ so you have an idea!!!

y/n has released her fourth album ever this year. PORTALS. something completely different from the rest of her albums.

a new era, most would call it. after creating the K-12 film, it took deep consideration and thought of the next steps in her career. which is when she came up with the idea of the fairy/nymph creature her music persona would become.

exploring this route, changed her entire aesthetic and when she disappeared off of social media for ages people began to speculate.

she’d even stopped appearing in her boyfriends youtube videos. y/n use to frequently take part in sam and colby’s ghost hunting videos, but after finishing her K-12 tour, she disappeared.

there was rare occurrences where colby would post her on instagram, only because y/n had agreed. but other than that, no one knew what was going on.

but here she was now with her fairy outfit on. the mask with four eyes, and the big fairy ears that stopped near her neck. the wig and the costume which were all purely based on the aesthetic of the album.

denver, colorado. the first show of the PORTALS tour. no one knew what to expect.

even colby didn’t know what to expect. he wasn’t even allowed to listen to the songs yet. y/n wanted to surprise him with all the music when he first watched the tour.

so he had no clue what to expect either. but to say he was excited was an understatement.

the boy was in awe of what his girlfriend had created. her imagination being the biggest ever. and no one seemed to be able to surpass her alternative, yet insanely creative ways.

sam and colby had agreed on taking a small break, while y/n made this huge leap. sam would of course go to the first concert with colby, accompanying his best friend, and supporting his other close friend.

the boys had brought a camcorder, so they could capture little things from y/n’s show on a cute little vhs film, which colby knew y/n would adore. and he was right.

colby and y/n walked slightly in front of sam backstage, holding hands, while sam secretly recorded the couple on the vhs.

the two swung their hands back and forth, colby being careful of the gloves which y/n wore to add to the look.

“it’s crazy, y’know?” colby said.

y/n looked up at him, “what’d you mean?”

“just, you. like i remember watching you at the last shows of crybaby and now you’re here. and i get to experience all of this with you. i just feel so lucky to have someone as smart and creative as you,” he explained.

y/n smiled, squeezing colby’s hand as they approached the wings of the stage, “you gonna go stand in front of the barricade?” y/n asked. colby nodded, “try to not to get taken down by crazy people,” y/n joked.

colby laughed, looking down at his girlfriend. “i am so so lucky,” he repeated. he gently pressed a kiss to her hair, careful of the mask, which was hand-painted to perfection. “i love you y/n, truly,”

y/n smiled, “i love you colby,” she was handed her microphone, as he began walking away, sending her a little cute wave as he disappeared.

now this song just meant even more for her to be able to perform.

sam had stuck in the wings, while colby had disappeared in front of the stage, waving at the few fans who managed to secure spaces at barricade. he held the camcorder in one hand, getting ready to record the first snippet as soon as he could.

“hello earthlings. it’s me, crybaby. i know you can’t see me. but i’m still here. wanna know a secret? there’s still a piece of me trying to become an angel. look into the light and repeat after me. our energy can’t be destroyed, we find our light within the void. we’ve been here before, we can do it again. the evolution will never end. we are protected, we are immortal. and tonight, we step into the portal,”

a note began and y/n stepped onto stage in her fairy form. “death is life, is death, is life, is death, is life, is,” drum beats.

colby picked up the camcorder as his girlfriend stepped forward, closer to the edge of the stage.

he looked in awe of the girl, taking in every little bit about her and how far she had come. the people she was able to bring together.

she was nearing the end of the fourth song on the album, ‘faerie soiree’. quite an upbeat song, which then faded into a slow ending, so far colby’s favourite song out the four he had heard.

watching his girlfriend dance across the stage, feeling her music so dearly. as the song ended, y/n’s four dancers walked off of the stage, leaving her alone.

new music started, the intro beginning to play. the girl walked forward to the edge of the stage, going down to her knees, sitting on her feet.

she sat in the centre of the stage, reaching out for colby’s hand, who gladly held on. y/n moved the microphone updward towards her lips. she looked at the boy in front of her.

“you are the light I've been searchin' for forever. feels like, man, i’ve really never felt the rain. buried in the desert, didn't think i’d push through the dirt. you just cleansed me like a waterfall, you came”

colby had then realised, there was a song written for him. y/n never fully wrote songs for someone. she always wrote them based on a broader subject.

however colby, didn’t want to jump to conclusions immediately, so he just continued to stare directly at his girlfriend, who didn’t take her eyes off of him.

“i’m screamin' like a kettle on a stove. you cranked the heat up, i was cold. my past grew mold around my heart. and all my anger, sadness, regret disappeared. it’s madness, i’m not used to all this water, love, it's true,”

this was what confirmed it for colby. as cocky as it sounds. y/n was singing for him. she was singing to him and only him.

he knew all about her past and how she was treated previously. and he’d promised to give her everything he could, treat her with the upmost respect and love. and that’s what he did.

“but you made me want to. plan out my last days on earth, eating you. ooh-ooh-ooh. the tips of your teeth fit perfect in me. you’re a shower of light i’d devour, anyday of the week. baby, cleanse me,”

the song had finished, and if colby was lying, he’d say he didn’t cry. but that boy had tears in his eyes and people who were standing off to the side behind him, could tell.

y/n let go off his hand, blew a kiss and ran off stage, preparing for her next song. colby wiped his left eye, to stop the tear that was so close to running down his face.

as the dancers came back on, dancing while y/n prepared to come on for her next song, colby picked up the camcorder and pretend like he didn’t just fall further in love with the girl.

colby assumed it was nearing the end of the show, as y/n was now finishing her 15th song, so he left from the barricade and walked back to the wings of the stage, meeting sam, who stood with his phone out, recording her from the sides.

sam noticed colby’s oncoming presence, “you alright there, colby?” sam asked, putting his phone down and turning to his friend.

“yeah, just you know, taking everything in,” he nodded.

“saw you shed a couple of tears down there, bro,” sam patted colby on the back, but he shoved his arm off.

“shut up,” he said in embarrassment.

sam rolled his eyes, “it’s fine colby. when y/n came off stage, she was crying. not in a bad way or anything. i think she just can’t believe everything, and having you here after everything she went through,” sam explained.

colby smiled slightly, looking down to the ground, “i really love her you know,” colby spoke, his eyes darting to the stage watching y/n finish her final song.

“and she loves you, so much,” sam replied, “she called you her light shower or whatever,”

#colby brock #colby brock imagine #colby brock smut #colby brock x reader #sam and colby #sam golbach x reader #smut #sam and colby smut #melanie martinez #portals #crybaby #k 12 #singer #Spotify

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the-soliloquies-of-sadists · 1 year

Text

#379

“Hey Ryan. I’m hearing all over town that your Pa found out that you are a faggot…. Don’t walk away from me boy! This ain’t some trap. I have no problem with you being a sperm burper. Look, your Pa was going to throw you out of your house. He was going to come by to pick you up from work and take you to the bus station and leave you with a hundred bucks. I talked him out of that. Now get your ass over here.

“Do you recognize me?... Kinda? I work for the same company as your Pa. We don’t interact with each other too much in what we do, maybe once or twice a month. But today at lunch he was asked by John Gilbert about you, and he got pissed. He was telling everyone there that he found you giving head to a guy from out of town, and that he was going to kick you out.

“When everyone sympathized with him and went on their way, I went up to him and told him that I can take help him with his problem. He looked at me funny… kinda how you are looking at me now.

“Faggot, we may not have interacted other than a glance or two in town or when you would drop in to see your Pa. I’ve known that you have been sucking dick for a few years now.

“Oh yeah. You know that man you were blowing when your Pa saw you? He’s a good bud of mine. When Russ comes through town, we usually hang together. I know he connects with you and has been for a few years. He tells me all about how he’ll tie you up, sit on your face, and smack you around before pile driving into your cunt. This visit, he barely had time to say hi to me and to get that infamous blow job from you.

“So yeah, I know about you and your predicament. Russ was telling me you are a major horndog. I can easily tell that by the sizeable bulge in your pants, your mouth hanging open, and you can’t stop staring at my chest. So you like what you see?...

“Of course, you do. I like that you instinctively address me as ‘Sir.’ Russ also mentioned your natural propensity to submitting to assertive men. Get closer. Go on, if you want to touch my chest go ahead.

“Atta boy. You are going to see a lot of my chest. Lick my nipples. You will find out that my tits are hard wired to my cock. Oh yeah! That feels good. I’m going to train you on how to worship my tits to give me the most pleasure.

“But first, get out of your work clothes. I want to see my new toys. Don’t fucking hesitate. I waited for everyone to leave; so no one is around. Don’t make me repeat myself…. Good. You can expect to be naked back at my farm all the time.

“Damn, you are big. Great muscles. You are definitely one of the cornfed beefy boys around here, not like the nelly fag property I get in Denver or Dallas. How tall are you? 6’3” and 275 pounds? Damn boy, how big is that dick? Eight inches? Thought so. Turn around and grab your ankles…. Oooh beautiful beefy ass. And look at that cunt. That cunt gets used doesn’t it?

“Besides Russ, who has been in here?...

“Russ can’t be the only one. There have to be other men to make those lips that puffy.… You use dildoes?... I knew it! You fucking horn dog. It’s hard to believe that this ass hasn’t been taken by other men, but then again we are six hours from Denver and six from Kansas City and you don’t have a vehicle.

“Stand up. When I heard your Pa talking shit about you today, I knew I had to own you thinking that you would require a lot of training. But you seem to have what I’ve been looking for, for a long time.

“I told your Pa that I would take you off his hands. As I said, he looked at me kinda strange. I told him that I would take you to my ranch and he won’t see you again, other than some casual passing by in town. He was going to tell me to fuck off, until I offered him some cash. If he took it, he knows he can’t make any waves. He thought about it and took the money. I told him that he needs to be gone from his home tomorrow, so we’ll get your shit out of his place.

“Yeah, I bought you. I don’t have boyfriends or lovers, I have property—always have. It makes ending the relationship easier when I get bored. But I think with you, you are going to last a while. I haven’t had a big beefy bitch boy before.

“Russ was right, I am going to enjoy using you. I did talk with him earlier today and asked if I could take you on. It didn’t feel right not to ask him as he found you first. He was fine with that as long as he gets to use you when he comes through town. That’s fine with me. He told me that you love to eat his ass once he showed you how to do it, that you beg him every time to tongue fuck him. That’s good because every morning, I set up my morning coffee on my deck. My property crawls underneath my custom-made rim chair and slurps on my shithole while I begin my day. And it is a full rimjob, not just licking on the surface.

“Look at your dick, you are leaking more than I have ever seen before by a faggot…. That’s a fucking beautiful sight. You want all this from me, don’t you?... Of course you do. Russ wasn’t giving me the full picture of you. He says you are a multiple cummer. I’d like to see that. In fact, get up in the bed of my truck.

“Damn, you look good up there. Step forward. I want to inspect that cock…. It’s like steel. This pre-cum of yours is amazing. Damn! I completely missed the size of your balls. They are huge…. You are every inch the bull Russ described. Let’s get these things drained.

“Over there under that tarp you will find my portable rimseat. You should also see some wrist and ankle cuffs. Put the cuffs on first. You will be secured on the drive home. All property is treated as cargo….

“Lie down with your head under the rim seat and start jacking off. Extend your legs to the corners…. A couple D clips and your legs are secure to the truck.

“I see you jack off left-handed. Give me your right…. That’s secured too. After you shoot, I’ll take care of the left.

“OK faggot. You are the first property I have encountered who hasn’t put up much resistance to becoming owned. I find that very intriguing.

“Cum for me. Shoot it all over your chest. I want to see the size of your load. I usually lock up my property’s peckers, but not yours. I have no desire to do that. I want that thing used often. The thing is that I want to know now how fast you recover.

“You are really going to town. Those balls are flopping all over the place. Here. Look up at me. You look natural under that rim seat. Normally I prefer property lying behind me for the ass eating, but for now, I want to watch you cum.

“Here comes my shithole. It is always to be referred to as such. Sticking your tongue deep inside. Oh fuck! Does that feel wonderful.

“Jesus! You are going to cum already? Go for it! Shoot that fucking load!... Holy shit!... That’s fucking amazing…. Oh shit, it keeps on cumming.

“Keep eating my shithole with the same energy you had a minute ago. Don’t stop eating it until I tell you. Give me your left hand. Gonna finish securing you to the truck.

“Your dick is still dribbling out cum. When was the last time you came? …This morning? And you produced that load. Jesus Christ. Normally I put a cock cage on my property, but there is no way I’m going to, or want to, restrain that beast.

“And those balls! I also castrate my property and replace what they had with fake balls twice the original size. Even those fake ones don’t compare to yours. I may check into augmenting your dick to keep it perpetually hard. I liked that idea. I will turn you into a mindless bull. I’ll take you to Denver or Dallas and watch you destroy fag after fag.

“The one thing I don’t like are your pubes. You are mostly smooth. You will look even bigger without that hair. I’ll have it removed. Until then…. Pubes yank out so nicely…. Faggot this isn’t going to be all fucking and jacking off for me. Property needs to know pain.

“It’s been a long time since I have done something new. When we get home, I’m going to fuck you good. But that’s after I see your next load and see if it matches this one in size. That’ll be the lube I use. After I dump in you, I’ll install you on the dildo machine.

“Oooh. Your tongue likes the thought of that. Do that again. Oh man! I’m going to give you an hour to continue to worship my shithole before we head home. When we get there, I’ll untie you from the truck’s bed.

“But until then, it’s going to be a nice day. I’m getting my shithole eaten by my newest property. I have a fresh bush to yank out one tuft after another to pass the time. Life doesn’t get any better than this.”

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chimcess · 4 months

Text

Waterlog || pjm (4)

Pairing: Jimin x Reader Other tags: Olympic Swimmer!Jimin, Ex Olympic Swimmer! Reader, Swim Coach!Reader Genre: Strangers to Friends to Lovers!AU, Coach!AU, Swimming!AU, HEAVY Angst, Slow Burn, Mutual Pining, fluff, eventual smut, I'm so soft for these two it's crazy. Word Count: 11.8k+ Synopsis: After a car accident ends her athletic career, Y/N has slowly started rebuilding her life again as a high school swim coach. That’s until she gets a request from an old friend and finds herself back in the spotlight as the new coach of Olympic swimmer, Park Jimin. Warnings: ANGST, crying, mental health issues, talking about mental health, I'm so soft for them it's actually wild, best boyfriend Jimin, did I say angst????, past drug use, past alcohol addiction, past trauma talk, crying, anxiety, hand holding, touching as a love language, Jimin can't keep his hands to himself, he does try his best though, pining, sexual tension, banter, I love these two A/N: I know we're a couple of weeks late updating, but I've been very busy with moving so I haven't had the energy to write. I did a very quick edit, so this might not be perfect. I'm planning on coming back once I'm in my new place to do a full proofread. Hope you like the update!

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Hand clutching my phone, I sighed. All around me the airport buzzed with life. I had almost forgotten how hectic the Denver Airport was. A few feet away I saw a mother struggling to keep her children together while her husband scrolled on his phone. I must have made some sort of noise, subconsciously voicing my annoyance, because Jimin laughed.

“What’s going on, gran?” He teased, voice light. “See a couple of youngins on your lawn?”

I scoffed, tearing my eyes away from the family. “Just a shitty husband ignoring his children.”

He hissed, sucking in air through his teeth, “The worst kind of dude. Are you alright?”

Softening, I finally spotted my luggage on the conveyor belt. Twisting my torso, I did a light stretch and then quickly snatched the heavy bag up. “Not too anxious, right?”

He had been very worried about letting me come home for a visit. When I had originally brought it up he offered himself up for the job, but I was not a fan of that idea. My friends would definitely bring up our date and I did not want to deal with the awkwardness that would cause. Especially since we had yet to go on it. That would not matter to Hoseok, however, and the teasing would have been endless. Better to spare Jimin from their wrath for just a little while longer.

“I’m cool,” I replied, softening. “Just got my stuff from baggage claim. I’m going to let you go so I can call Andy.”

“Okay bug. See you in a few days.”

Harper had recently started calling me that, forgetting my real name and not caring enough to ask for it. Eloise had tried to scold her for it, but I told her I did not mind it. It caught on with Cameron not too long after that, and soon the entire Park family had started using the little nickname. Jimin thought it was adorable from the beginning but had only started using it after our talk the other night.

I laughed, “I’m going to call you tonight.”

“Aw,” I knew he had that stupid smile on his face. “Miss me that much?”

“Someone needs to make sure you’re staying out of trouble,” I replied, a confident pep in my step I had not had in years. “But yes, I do miss you.”

There was a pregnant pause.

“I miss you too.”

I could feel my heart melting. I was still getting used to our new dynamic. On most days we were strictly business, and were able to set aside the very large, very apparent elephant in the room. It was not until we had finished with work that those roles dropped, and we were able to just be us.

Ever since my confession in the car Jimin spoke a hell of a lot more. Apparently, he had a hard time keeping his feelings to himself and chose to talk a little less in order to avoid a slip up. He wanted to give us both a little bit of time to get to know one another before springing his crush on me.

“Going soft, kid?” Playing things off with humor was Jimin’s thing, but it had slowly started to rub off on me. “It’s only two days.”

“I know,” He pouted. “Call your friend. It’s cold and you’ll get sick.”

“Hey,” I cut the teasing tone I had, “You’re not upset I came here by myself, right?”

“No,” He chuckled with an unmistakable fondness. “I’m just messin’ with you. I’m not ready to meet your friends and you need some alone time. We’re good, I promise.”

I sighed in relief, “Okay. Good. I’m going to go now. Talk to you later?”

“Call me when you can,” He replied, voice light.

“Okay, bye.”

“Bye, bug.”

I was disappointed to hear the line go dead but knew I could aimlessly walk around this airport all day if given the chance, so long as he was there with me. Trying to get my thoughts back on track, I sent a text to Andy asking if she was here yet. If not, I was already making plans to call Jimin back.

Andy: I’m parked in 5 near C Gates

Andy: Be careful

Andy: Saw a lady almost get hit by a car just now

Me: See you in a sec

Me: Should I be worried?

I knew she was trying to make a joke, but car accident punchlines never went over all that well with me. Even if I knew the chances of that happening to me were almost zero, I really did not want to have a panic attack in the airport parking lot.

Andy: Not at all. I’m so sorry for even saying anything. I can come meet you at the doors if you want.

Deep breath. In. Out. In. Out. Deep breath. In. Out. In. Out. Sigh of relief. I was fine.

Me: I appreciate you

Me: Is babygirl here?

Dani would help the spike of anxiety dissipate. The girl was fearless and was sure to be distracting enough to keep me from paying attention to the oncoming traffic. I suddenly wished that Jimin was here. He always knew what to do.

Andy: Jin and I are weak

Andy: We let her play hooky

Bobbing and weaving through bodies, I tossed my phone into my purse and made my way out of the airport. The arrivals station was packed, and I would need to take the automated train to where Andrea was parked. It was my least favorite part about this airport, but it beat Dallas-Fort Worth by a landslide. I had gotten lost in that airport more times than I could count.

Three minutes later I was getting out of the train and stepping into C Gates. I could smell Auntie Anne’s and felt my mouth begin to water. Checking my clock, I decided it would not hurt to make a quick spot for lunch. Andy would appreciate it and I knew Dani loved their pretzel dog.

There was a little less traffic in C Gates. More of the expensive airlines let out here, and all you could see were business professionals pacing back and forth. A family on vacation bumped into me while I was waiting in line, and I almost gave up my spot when their toddler started screaming.

“No, no,” His mother insisted, her hair a mess on the top of her head. “Between the girls and my mom, we’ll be here all day. Go ahead, sweetie.”

Two little girls danced around me as we waited, the line moving at a snail's pace due to the airport being understaffed. They asked me questions incessantly, and while their mother had tried her best to keep them in line, I told her I was fine with the extra attention. I loved kids and the girls were harmless. The boy in her arms kept repeating “pizza” and soon an elderly woman joined them.

If the girls talked a lot, they had nothing on grandma. Not only did she never shut her mouth, she was loud and obnoxiously laughing every few seconds. The boy was quick to beg to be in her arms and mom got a break. She was back to attempting to corral the girls, but again they did not really listen.

“They’re only like this when my mom’s around,” She sighed, frustrated and tired. “We’re meeting up with their father and they’re all a little restless.”

“It’s no bother,” I lied. The girls really were not that bad. Just a couple of four-year-olds having fun. The only person who was really getting on my nerves was her mother, but I was not about to say that. “Better to get it out now than in the car, right?”

She cracked a tired smile, “Right.”

Finally, it was my turn to order. The young girl behind the counter gave me an award-winning smile while another young blonde was in the back getting all of the orders out.

“Hi, welcome to Auntie Anne’s. How can I help you today?”

“Can I get one original pretzel, one cinnamon sugar pretzel, and a pretzel dog combo with a lemonade and cheese,” Glancing behind me, I sighed. “Throw in a pizza pretzel, two orders of pretzel nuggets, and whatever else the family behind me wants.”

She smiled, blue eyes twinkling prettily in the bright lights. Turning around I waved the mother over and told her to get something for her and her mother. She put up a small fight, but eventually gave in when she realized I had already put our orders together.

“Thank you so much,” I thought she might burst into tears when my card was approved. “You really didn’t need to do that.”

I shrugged, “It was nothing. Have a nice vacation.”

Walking to the pickup area, my order was already waiting for me. With nothing more than a simple wave, I left the dysfunctional family behind. The grandmother’s loud thank you seemed to echo off of the airport walls, but it was a little less grating now that I knew I would never hear it again.

Andy threw herself at me when I finally made it outside, little Dani wrapping her arms around my legs with squeals of delight louder than her mother’s. Taking her pretzel, Andy gave me a fat, wet kiss on the cheek and told Dani she could eat in the car.

“How’s gymnastics, girlie?” I asked the little girl once we were in the car. “Still kicking ass?”

“No,” She laughed. “I quit, like, forever ago. Appa put me in ballet classes.”

I gave Andy a look. The red head rolled her eyes, fixing me with a knowing look. I had been telling Jin to put her in dance for years.

“It’s been two weeks and she’s already trying to talk him into figure skating.”

“You’re a little hustler, huh?” I reached into the back, squeezing her knee. Dani giggled, angling her body away from mine. She was very ticklish. “Keep at it. You know your dad’s a sucker.”

Dani laughed, “My vovó says the same thing.”

We listened to Olivia Rodrigo on our way to the Kim house. Hoseok and Matilda had planned a huge coming back party for me, and from what it sounded like, I was going to meet Tilly’s new boyfriend.

“Anything I need to know about Max?” I asked.

Andy was almost as in the dark about the guy as I was but was able to tell me he was a tattoo artist from California. The two of them met at Frank’s bookstore and by the end of their conversation Max had managed to get her out to dinner and in his bed. It was a whirlwind romance, one that made me feel uneasy about its foundation, but I was still obligated to be happy for my friend. They could be soulmates for all I knew, and I was not about to judge anybody else for their version of a first date.

“I don’t want to talk about tattoo guy anymore,” Andy whined playfully, turning up the radio when “Good 4 U” came on. “I need to know more about your little boyfriend.”

I groaned, “He’s not my boyfriend.”

This was why I was so adamant Jimin stayed away. We had yet to have a real talk about what we were, choosing to wait for our first date to iron out those details, but no one in my circle seemed to understand. All they heard was the word date and suddenly wedding bells started going off.

“Stop deflecting. We both know he’s your boyfriend, official or not,” She laughed, stealing looks at her daughter in the rearview. “What’s he like?”

It was a hard question to answer. On the one hand, I felt like I knew him better than anybody else, but I was self aware enough to know I didn’t. His body language, the way he looked when he beat his best time, and all of his preferred gear were seared into my mind. The movies he liked, his favorite albums, and all of the best tv shows ever made. He went to college. He was the sweetest, kindest, most understanding person I had ever met, and yet… he still felt far away. The shadows that oftentimes clouded his vision were still a mystery to me, and when he came into practice with a lost look on his face, I felt helpless. I knew him and yet I didn’t.

“He’s quiet,” I finally landed on. “Very nice. Always willing to help other people out if he can. You’d like him.”

Andrea scoffed, “That’s it? The first guy you’ve dated in years and all you can tell me is I’d like him?”

“We’re still getting to know each other,” I sighed. “What do you want to know?”

We spent the rest of the car ride going over the last two months' worth of pining. I told her about Fiona, Jimin’s family, and all of my new friends. She almost pissed herself laughing when I told her about the night he asked me out, making so many Hoseok and Tilly jokes I had a difficult time focusing on the story. Andrea seemed to be finished with her interrogation when we pulled up at her house.

Dani ran to the front door, her excitement about the party making any discomfort I had disappear. It was hard to feel uncomfortable with her around. Taking my hand in hers, the little girl shifted her weight from foot to foot, shouting at her mom to hurry up, and opening the front door anyway. Andy told her to calm down, and I just chuckled and went along with it.

The living room was filled with all of my favorite people, a large ‘welcome home’ sign hanging on the large, backwall. Underneath it was a huge table covered in food, a cake in the middle of it, and I had a feeling Sarah made it. Both her and Frank were the first people to notice me, their faces lighting up, and I let go of Dani’s hand in favor of embracing the elderly couple. The rest of the party comers erupted their voices loud and filled with love as they took turns passing me around.

“Missed you, Otter,” Hoseok murmured in the crook of my neck, hands secured around my waist.

“Missed you more,” I replied, releasing him and catching Tilly. “Jeez, girl. Trying to kill me?”

“Come meet Max,” She replied, dragging me away from Hoseok.

Max was a tall, lanky guy with black hair that fell down his back. His clothes were on the baggier side, all black, and I recognized the band on his t-shirt from the shit Matilda liked to listen to in the car. He smiled at me, and I was surprised to see him rocking adult braces. He introduced himself, his voice deep and warm, and shook my hand. They were baby soft and covered in tattoos.

“It’s great to see you,” I replied, genuinely meaning it. If I had to picture a guy more perfect for Tilly, I would come up empty handed. “Thanks for coming.”

He flushed, impossibly pale skin turning a bright shade of red reminding me of Jimin.

“Anything for Mattie,” He replied.

Huh, he had his own nickname for her and everything. I would need to hang out with Max more before I could say if I liked him or not, but so far, I had a good feeling. Andrea’s worries seemed a bit silly now. They really liked each other, and Tilly’s heartbreaking, dimpled smile made me feel more confident in her partner. They would be just fine.

The party was fun, and I ate more spinach and artichoke dip than was healthy. Hoseok and I talked about my afterschool visit tomorrow. The boys had a swim meet Saturday and the two of us were hoping we could tag team in order to iron out any issues they had been having. I was being placed in charge of the freshmen while Hoseok made sure the other kids were feeling confident and ready for the meet.

"Let's party!" Frank boomed, lifting a beer into the air.

I laughed, "Be careful, old timer. Don't want you to hurt yourself."

I thought of Jimin again. That sounded like something he would say. Surrounded by the people I loved, I laughed hard and partied harder. The plates of food came one right after the other, and I was happy that I still had a place here. Falling back into my step, I fit seamlessly back into the fold.

"Dance with me," Hoseok demanded, tipsy and red-faced.

"It's your toes," I replied, taking his head and letting him take the lead.

The other couples were already dancing and hooped and hollered as I awkwardly followed the steps. I was not always a bad dancer but lost some of my rhythm in the accident. Hoseok never minded and let me step on his feet without a single complaint.

"You look happy," He commented, spinning me around.

I smiled, "I am."

He smiled back, wincing when I stomped down on his toes again. I apologized, but he just held my hand a little tighter and kept moving. I hummed along to the song, filled with joy. He spun me again, and finally let me go when I slammed into Jin.

"Go get some cake or something," He laughed. "You're too dangerous to be out here."

I rolled my eyes, "I tried to tell you. It's your fault you don't listen."

"Don't need you anyway. I have enough swag for the both of us."

I watched, thoroughly amused from the sidelines, as he moon-walked around the living room.

I left just before midnight after staying behind to help Andy and Jin clean up. The others left a few hours before to get back to Denver at a decent time. My house looked the same as always, dark and empty, but I could tell the landscapers had been around. The grass was recently cut and edged.

The silence inside was deafening. I had always known my place was too big for one person, but after spending so much time in my little she-shed at the Andersons’ house, everything here just felt excessive. Tossing my keys in the bowl beside the door, I wiped my eyes and decided to just head to bed. I would only be here for three days. I would be back in Saline before I knew it.

Dragging my body upstairs, this sudden depression-filled fatigue made my shoulders feel ten times heavier. A chilling, almost insidious, hollowness began to spread across my body. I knew this feeling all too well and it made me feel pathetic. Could I not be on my own anymore? Had I really grown that attached to my life in Michigan? Finally getting into my bedroom, I realized that I had.

Saline was perfect. Living in Colorado Springs has always bothered me. The people here held more traditional values and making friends was difficult. I had Andy and Jin, but they were both very busy people. Andrea was a full-time nurse, Jin’s schedule was somehow even more erratic than his wife’s, and when they were off, they wanted to spend time with Dani. I was lucky if I saw them once every two weeks.

Hoseok, Tilly, and Minho all lived in Denver, and while I saw them more often due to the meetings with Frank and Sarah dragging me into the city, it was not like we hung out every time I was out there. Days would go by with me speaking at all, and most of my weekends were spent in bed sleeping. Working at the school helped, but I would never claim anyone from the swim team to be a friend. I was not in the habit of befriending children.

Living in Saline was different. Jimin was always there to make me laugh, and when he wasn’t, I had people like Taehyung and Sam to keep me company. Giselle was young, but we got along so well I often forgot about the difference in age between the two of us. Megan and Yoongi were Michigan’s own version of Andy and Jin, and I could see myself becoming good friends with them given enough time. No one had kids, no one was too busy trying to keep up with crazy expenses, and I could find a little house away from the rest of the world to spend my life in.

I thought of the Parks, a family who I had come to love more than I thought was possible, and the Andersons who took me in and always tried to make me feel comfortable. Eloise and her kindness. Luna and Cameron. All of them. I loved and adored every single one of them, and it was then that I finally let myself really think about what I wanted.

Did I want to come back here after I was finished with the season? Did I really want this massive house if it meant I had no one to share it with? No, I decided. Stripping out of my clothes, the numbness was being replaced with a different strange feeling. It felt suspiciously like hope. Excitement came to me so rarely it was foreign and odd, but nice all the same. Jittery, I took my phone out of my pants pocket.

“Hello?” Jimin’s voice was scratchy when he finally picked up.

“Sorry,” I muttered. “Did I wake you up?”

“Yes, but it’s okay,” I could hear him shuffling around in his bed. “Did you have fun?”

“Yeah,” I breathed, climbing into bed. Then, without thinking, I blurted, “I think I want to move to Michigan.”

I held my breath as I waited for his response. There was no telling how this conversation would go, but I was hopeful. Even if this whole date thing did not go very well, I was positive that we would be able to move past it with a little bit of time. We worked well together and if he was comfortable with it then we could continue working together. Regardless, there was always coaching at a school.

“Like, permanently?”

I nodded but after a moment of silence remembered he could not see me.

“Yeah.”

My stomach started to churn. As the silence on the other end began to stretch, the excitement I felt before faded. Even if I said Jimin and I could get past a potentially awkward break up of sorts, I would not pretend that the thought did not make me physically ill. We would never be the same if that happened. It would be something to think about if it came to pass before the Olympics was over.

“Did something happen?” He finally asked, and I could hear the genuine worry in his tone. “Are you okay?”

The fear shifted to hurt, irritation, and anger, making my eyebrows knit together.

“I’m fine,” I could not keep the bite from my voice. It was petty and wrong of me, but his insinuation that I was not in my right mind was insulting. It made me feel like a child. “Just- forget I said anything. I don’t know what I’m even talking about.”

“Don’t do that,” His steady calmness made me even angrier. “I’m only asking you because it came out of the blue, not because I’m not happy with the idea.”

Now I just felt silly. Here I was making these small revelations, waking him up from his sleep, and then getting snippy because he did not respond the way I had wanted him to. Ugh, I wasn’t even his girlfriend yet and I’m acting like Darcy. A shiver went down my spine. That was an insult above all others.

“I’m sorry,” I murmured, the attitude from a few seconds before gone as quickly as it came. “I got defensive for no reason. Sorry.”

He chuckled, the sound barely audible over the phone.

“I forgive you. Now, why do you want to pack your life up for good?”

That made me laugh. It was a sad, pitiful sound. One that did not hold my usual spunk. One I don’t think Jimin had ever heard before. It was impossible to feel sad when he was around.

“I forgot how quiet my house is,” I admitted softly. “I love my friends, but I think coming back just reminded me of how easily I was able to fall back into the routine of it all. Jin and Andy are parents, Tilly has a new boyfriend, and Hoseok and Minho are always so busy with their own lives that I don’t see any of them as often as I would like to.”

Turning on my side, I blinked back a few tears.

“It might sound stupid, but I really do love Saline. I like how busy I am and all of my friends. I bought this place with the hopes of kids and a dog one day, but I don’t think that’ll ever happen, and now it’s just rooms collecting dust. I just-” I let a tear fall, my emotions starting to bubble over. “I don’t like how lonely it feels out here.”

“Doesn’t sound like you like it there. Have you always felt like this?” He asked.

I shook my head, the tears free falling in between sniffles and shaky breaths.

“Not always. Ever since Namjoon died things have been weird. There was a point when I felt suffocated because no one would leave me alone, and then one day everything resumed, and I just got left behind. It was like I woke up and two years just passed me by.”

Jimin comforted me while I cried, telling me how much he hated to hear me so upset, while I worked on calming down. There had been a time in my life when I was not so emotional, but therapy had opened up a whole new side of myself I didn't know existed. Rubbing my face, I sniffled and sank deeper into my mattress. For now, the waterworks had stopped.

“You were recovering,” He soothed. “Your body needed time to heal, and you were traumatized. I don’t think anyone can blame you for zoning out for a bit.”

I hummed, “I know. Doesn’t make it easier to swallow.”

“I know how you feel. When I pulled out of the Olympics last time there was a part of me that felt like a huge failure, but my dad was there to help get my head back on straight. He doesn’t seem like it, but he’s a really great shoulder to cry on.”

“That doesn’t surprise me,” My voice was like sandpaper. “James is the sweetest person I’ve ever met.”

I felt heavy. Worn. Used. My eyes begged for me to shut them, but we were just getting back into safer waters, and I didn’t want to burst the bubble. I yawned, covering my mouth and hoping Jimin could not hear the sound. He had gone quiet.

“Can I ask you something?” Jimin’s voice broke through the comfortable silence that had formed around us. “You don’t have to say anything.”

“Shoot,” I forced myself to smile.

“What happened to Namjoon?”

I closed my eyes. This was something I knew would come up sooner or later. My lip wobbled uncontrollably as the second wave of tears crashed over me. I hated talking about this, but I knew it was going to come up sooner or later. Jimin deserved the truth, and honestly, I wanted to tell him. Being vulnerable with someone felt good. Being vulnerable with Jimin was divine. He was always so ready and willing to go along with things, listening and watching my every move, and trying his best to understand me. It was refreshing. It was nice. It was familiar.

“Was he in the accident with you?” He asked and his voice was so, so gentle.

“Yeah,” I croaked, finally finding my voice. “I went out with some of my friends and got pretty drunk. I was tired and ready to go home, but my ride didn’t want to go home yet. So, I called Joon.”

I sucked in a deep, loud breath. Jimin told me I could stop, that I didn’t owe him anything, but I ignored him. This wasn’t about owing him. This was about letting the guy I liked get to know me. This story was a part of who I was, as fucked up as that may sound, and I wanted him to get to know this facet of my life as deeply as he knew the present day one.

“Anyway,” I continued. “He offered to come and pick me up. Twenty minutes later I’m getting into his car and we’re on our way home. We’d just gotten engaged and bought our first house together- things were perfect. I had never been happier.

“We ended up taking the long way home because of an accident on the interstate. It was my idea, and Namjoon had a knack for going along with whatever I wanted. We were only two minutes away from the house when we got hit.”

I took a few deep breaths and wiped my face. Jimin was quiet on the other end. After a minute or two, I jumped back into the story.

“There was a four-way intersection around the corner from our place. Our light was green when we drove up. I don't think he thought to check if there was another car coming. He never even saw the truck. He, uh, died on impact.”

“Jesus,” Jimin breathed.

“The other guy was drunk as hell behind the wheel. Not paying attention. Funny thing is, he was the only person who didn’t get critically injured. Just a broken arm and a concussion. He wrapped our car around a light pole. My leg was pinned between the car and the light, and the airbag is what caused the brain injury.”

Jimin cursed under his breath, “I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry that happened to you.”

“Yeah,” I gritted out. “Me too.”

He let me cry for a little while, saying over and over again how sorry he was and how he wished he was in Colorado with me. I did not have anything to say to him. It felt like my chest had been ripped open and my heart was on full display.

I never questioned how quickly we went from barely talking, to joking around, to sitting up late at night on the phone talking about life. It just happened. Clutching my phone in my hand, I let out a deep breath and held back any more tears from falling. I never said it, but I wished he was here, too.

“Hey,” His voice was gentle when he spoke, so fragile and sweet, that I had to force down the sobs threatening to come out. “I just want to say I’m sorry for how I reacted earlier. You wanting to move here is probably the best thing I’ve heard all fucking year, but I just didn’t want to sway your decision.”

Sniffling, I tried to tell him I wasn’t upset, but he shut me down almost immediately.

“Let me finish,” His voice did not leave room for argument. “I know I don’t act like I’m insecure, but I am. I can be selfish and self-centered, and I’ve always had to really work on those parts of myself.”

“I don’t understand what that has to do with anything,” I mumbled, curling into a ball beneath my blankets.

“Like I said, I can be a very selfish person,” He sighed. “There was this part of my brain just wanting to hear you say you were coming here and staying with me for forever. I didn’t want that to take over the narrative. And- no offense, but if you did move all the way out here just to date me, I think I’d be a little creeped out honestly.”

I snorted. Hearing that he felt the need to explain any of that to me felt like a small win, even if it did make an alarm go off in my head. It took courage to be that open and honest with another person, especially someone who just cried their eyes out. His compassion and understanding never failed to amaze me, and I was grateful he trusted me enough to let me into his mind for once. Still, it did not make the creep comment any less funny.

“Don’t laugh,” He whined, unable to stop himself from chuckling. “I’m being serious.”

“So do you want me to be a creepy stalker or not?” I joked, hoping to lighten up the mood. “Make up your mind, kid.”

“I think I just want you to be yourself,” I melted. “That’s been working out just fine so far. I mean, if you are a creepy stalker, you managed to get me to like you.”

“Mission accomplished,” I breathed, still reeling from his sweet words. “You better watch out, 007. There’s a new spy in town.”

“So, I’m Bond and you’re Joe Goldburg?”

“Exactly,” My cheeks hurt from how much I was smiling. “Penn Badgley would be a decent James Bond. He was really great in Margin Call.”

I bit my lip, trying to suppress my smile.

“Holy shit, you actually watched it?”

Margin Call was one of Jimin's favorite movies from 2011. He kept a very large notebook filled with all of the movies he’s ever seen, along with ratings, and if he should ever watch them again. He went through it one day and came across the action film, rewatched it, and then spent most of the day talking my ear off about how great it is.

“Someone I know was very passionate about it, and it managed to pique my curiosity.”

Jimin sighed, but I could not tell what emotion was behind it. Definitely was not anger or frustration. Not sadness either.

“What time are you getting back on Sunday?” He asked, and I could definitely hear the affectionate tone his voice had taken on.

“Um,” I thought about it for a moment. “Six, I think.”

“PM?”

“Yeah,” I curled up under my blankets. It was beginning to get really cold inside, but I did not want to get up to turn the heat on. “I have to double check my flight times, but I know it’s somewhere around there. Why? What’s up?”

“I know we already made plans for next week, but I was thinking I could pick you up from the airport and we could go out.”

My face grew hot, “I don’t think I’ll be dressed for a date.”

“You always look great,” He assured me.

I laughed, nervous and embarrassed, “Thanks.”

We had originally planned our first date to be the weekend after I got back. Jimin was adamant about giving me an experience, and I had been more than happy to indulge him a little. He was just so cute when he got excited. We were running on a limited timeline right now, though, since he had an upcoming swimming fundraiser with Swim Across America in Allendale. The team was raising money for cancer research, and I was very excited to be there to show my support.

Moving the date up meant we would have less to do next weekend, unless Jimin still wanted to keep our plans in place, but it meant we could focus on the fundraiser instead of trying to juggle a date at the same time.

“I hate to go, but I’m really tired,” Jimin yawned. Pulling my phone away from my ear I was startled by how late it was. “I’ll text you in the morning, okay?”

I apologized for keeping him up so late. “Promise I won’t do it again.”

He hummed, already beginning to fall asleep, “Don’t mind. You’re always welcome to bother me in the middle of the night.”

“Night Jimin,” I whispered, blood pumping.

“Night bug.”

There was one thing I missed about Colorado- how quickly the snow melted. Michigan was seeing more snow as each day went by, but here in the mountains they would not start seeing the worst of it until the spring. For the first time in a month, I was able to forgo my large, puffy jacket in favor of a long sleeve and jeans. Jimin found my excitement over this endearing, sending a slew of heart-eye emojis in response to the mirror photo I sent him.

It was almost the end of the day when I pulled into the high school parking lot. The entire front office erupted in excitement when I walked through the front doors, hugs and well wishes overwhelming me. Sandra, the receptionist, could have talked all day if I let her, and after signing in, I politely told them all I needed to meet up with Coach Jung. I lied about stopping by on my way out and only felt a little bad about it. They were way too much for me.

“They’re going to be so excited to see you,” Hoseok mumbled, a smile stretching across his face as loud teenage boys got closer and closer to the pool house.

“I’m happy to see them, too,” I replied. “Should we wait until they change to make the grand reveal?”

He shook his head. “Would you rather hug now or when they’re in speedos.”

I shivered, disgusted by the mental image.

“Thanks for putting that in my head, you sick fuck.”

Choking on his spit, Hoseok bent over, laughing so hard he started to screech. His laughter reminded me of a ghost's wail and was contagious. We were both so wrapped up in our little bubble we did not notice the doors opening.

“Coach?”

Wiping my cheeks, I caught my breath and made eye contact with Jordan. Baby blue eyes widened while a large, dimple smile overtook his face. Behind him, Gabriel announced that I was here, and the room was filled with excitement. I was not much of a hugger, but I was happy to greet each boy with one. Gabriel hadn’t stopped speaking since catching sight of me and had a few accidental slip ups about how much he disliked Coach Jung.

Hoseok had alluded to that being their main issue right now. The boys were having a hard time adjusting to a new face and missed me dearly. To his credit, Hoseok admitted that he was still getting used to the coaching thing and made a couple mistakes his first few days here. He had made it a point to apologize to them for being a dick, but the teens hadn’t forgotten or forgiven him for his snappy attitude. Especially the two oldest.

“When are you coming back?” Marcus asked.

I smiled sadly, “I’ll be out for the rest of the year.” The tall boy deflated, sending a nasty look Hoseok’s way. “But,” I was quick to fix my mistake, “I’m planning on making trips to assist Coach Jung throughout the year. I wanted to be here for your last meet, but something came up.”

That something had been Jimin’s birthday, and I was not going to risk missing his party.

Regardless, Marcus and the team were very happy to hear they would be seeing me.

“I promise I’ll be here for graduation, too,” I added.

Gabriel offered to give me one of his tickets and I gratefully accepted the extended offer. We stood there and talked for at least fifteen minutes before I finally told them to get changed and into the water. Without protest, all twelve of them went to the locker room.

“You know,” Hoseok chuckled. “You're going to have to teach me how you manage to do that.”

“Cinnamon buns from Mountain Shadows,” I put on my whistle and grabbed my clipboard from my duffel bag. “They’ll be eating out of your hand in no time.”

The team was glowing. Jordan stood in the middle of the boys, a large smile on his face, as he praised them for giving the meet their best effort. Having another win under their belt, all of them were buzzing with excitement at a chance at nationals. They only needed to win three more competitions to qualify.

For the first time since I arrived, the icy contempt they held for Hoseok seemed to thaw. It brought a smile to my face. If I did not come back next year, I had a feeling the boys would be getting along much better.

“What’s for dinner?” Marcus asked, looking at me for an answer.

“Coach said something about burgers,” I replied, gesturing towards Hoseok. “You should ask him though. I could be wrong.”

Gabriel chimed in, “Yeah, we’re going to Bingo.”

My mouth watered. Bingo Burger was one of the best spots in town. Their fries were hot and crispy, and I loved their shakes. Mulling over my options for dinner, I always found myself stuck between the Gone Shroomin’ Burger and the Happy Hippie. For a vegan burger, that thing was really fucking good. Then again, a thick, juicy beef patty smothered in bacon, cheese, and mushrooms would hit the spot. Indecisive and bored, I fiddled around with my phone and somehow ended up texting Jimin.

Me: Gone Shroomin’ or Happy Hippie?

The noise on the bus was just in the background now and easy to tune out. Hoseok was laughing loudly with the freshmen while the two seniors were in a quiet conversation in the seat in front of me. Marcus and his girlfriend broke up recently. I stopped paying attention once my phone vibrated.

Jimin: No idea what that means

Jimin: Gone Shroomin I guess

I bit my lip, suppressing a smile.

Me: We’re going for celebration burgers

Me: The boys won and Hobi is treating them since we’re out in Pueblo and not getting back to the Springs until after dinner.

Jimin: Speaking of food… I was thinking we could get some BBQ on Sunday

“Y/N!” Hoseok called, making me look up from my phone. “Tell your boyfriend you’ll call him later.”

“We need you to be the tiebreaker,” Twig chirped.

“What for?” I sighed, glancing down at my screen.

Jimin: Have you been to Union Rec yet? It’s BBQ and a taqueria

Me: No but I’m always down for a burrito

“Do mermaids have gills?” Twig asked.

Fully pulled out of my phone, I flipped it around and gave the boys my undivided attention.

“Of course not. They’re mammals, so it would be a blowhole.”

Hoseok clapped his hands, “Thank you! That’s exactly what I said.”

Sliding further down in the booth, I closed my eyes and drowned them out again. Colorado’s air was so dry and crisp I was having to get used to the altitude change. I missed how wet and cold Michigan was. Smiling to myself, I remembered how much I hated it when I first landed. So much has changed…

Shuffling, I made myself more comfortable. We were only thirty minutes out from the Springs now, and we would be at Bingos right on time for Hoseok’s reservations. Feeling myself growing tired, I sunk even further into the booth. Eyes heavy, I let them slip closed, and slept for the rest of the bus ride.

Standing in front of my bathroom mirror, I smoothed down my skirt for the millionth time. The gray sweater I had thrown on seemed too casual now that I was looking at myself, but I did not know what else to do. It was a laundry day, but when I went to put my clothes in the dryer it refused to turn on. Violet said they needed a new one anyway, but that did little to improve my mood. The pretty red dress I wanted to wear was soaking wet and hanging from the shower rod to dry. I played with the skin on my lip, willing the black and gray outfit to somehow look nicer. On the other side of the phone, Andy sighed.

“You look fine,” She insisted, running her hand through her auburn hair. “Do a cute hairstyle and put on a nice pair of earrings, and you’ll be golden.”

“You don’t think it’s too plain?” I had asked her this five times now, and each time I got that same reply. “I mean, do I look like I’m going to a funeral?”

“The guy has seen you in sweats and no makeup and still wanted to take you out. Do you honestly think he cares about the color of your outfit?”

She had a point. Finally deciding to cave in and give up on my obsession, I took her advice to do something with my hair. A few of the strands were beginning to look silver, and my sideburns were looking paler every day, but after Hoseok told me he was starting to see a few grays, I decided to leave them be. If we were both going to be silver foxes, I liked the idea of doing it together.

“Are you wearing heels?”

“No,” I shook my head. I picked my phone up and went to my bedroom to find a pair of earrings. “It’s too icy. Silver or gold?”

She thought about it for a second, her face scrunched up cutely.

“Silver.”

I landed on some thick, gun-metal hoops. They matched the color of the sweater perfectly and did not take away from my face too much. I had spent too much time on looking this nice to have an accessory dominate. Andy was happy with my choice.

I had gotten back a little earlier than I originally thought I would, and asked Jimin if it was okay that I meant him at the restaurant out here instead of making him drive all the way to Detroit to pick me up. He had put up a bit of a fight about it but relented when I said I was hoping we could hang out at his house after dinner. I said I wanted to get myself home, but I was really trying to see how bad the drive was from his place to mine. The thought of spending more time in his space made me feel like a teenage girl.

“How’s ballet going?” I slipped on a pair of black tights. It was freezing outside, and I wanted to have as many layers on as possible. “Has Dani made any progress in getting her figure skating career started?”

Andrea laughed but said that her daughter was getting closer to her goal every day. Jin was weak and did anything the little girl wanted if he could. This was the only issue they were both bull-headed about. Jin wanted to teach her to be responsible and follow through on things, and Dani was tired of preparing for figure skating. She wanted to be on the ice and her dad was afraid of pushing her too far too young. I was most definitely a team Dani instigator, and it was a point of contention between Seokjin and I.

“What did you think of Max?”

I smiled. That boy was definitely a character. The gang and I had a nice dinner before I left Colorado, and Tilly brought along Mr. Tattoo guy. He was quiet and when he did talk, he always had something completely random and out of the blue to say. He fascinated me and when everyone started huddling in their own groups to chat, I turned most of my attention to the new guy.

He was a sweetheart, and it was a nice change of pace getting to know him. He hated being called Peter (his first name), went to college for nuclear engineering, and became a tattoo artist on a whim. A buddy of his wanted a new piece, paid Max to draw it, and trusted the guy with a tattoo gun. He was an apprentice in San Francisco for three years before moving to Denver to open up his own shop. For all of his eccentricity, he was very successful and down to Earth.

“He’s good for her,” I finally replied, zipping up my Doc Martens, I checked the time. I would have to leave soon. “I’m just happy there’s no drama between her and Hobi.”

It had been a year since they officially broke up, but I knew they fell into bed with one another a handful of times since then. Hoseok and I had talked about their weird relationship on one too many drunken nights, the swimmer the only person able I liked enough to force a glass of whiskey down. Tilly knew that I knew and would vent to me sometimes. They loved each other, knew one another better than anybody else, and it was easy to fall back into each other since we were in the same circle.

I doubted Andy knew anything about that, we tried our best to keep her out of the loop, but she always said that they still had lingering feelings. I hoped Hoseok was handling this news well. He seemed fine, happy even, so I just rolled with it. If he had a problem, I was sure I would have heard about it by now.

“Speaking of Hoseok,” The humorous tone in Andy’s voice caught my full attention. “Apparently, Jin saw him at The Rabbit Hole with some blonde girl before you got into town. He just remembered to tell me last night.”

This was news to me. Wracking my brain, I tried to figure out if he had brought up a date, or even a person he might be interested in, but nothing came up. Shrugging, I let it go. It was probably just some girl he picked up at the bar. Still, that would be an expensive date.

“He hasn’t told me anything about that,” I murmured.

“Might be why he’s not bothered by new boyfriend.”

I laughed, “Or it could be that they’ve moved on.”

“Oh, please,” She pulled a face, eyes rolling to the back of her head. “We all know that’s not true. At least, not until recently.”

“Regardless,” I sighed, grabbing my purse and walking out of the front door. “It’s none of our business. If they’re happy that’s all that matters.”

Andy raspberried, “Boo. I hate it when you’re all mature and adult-like.”

“And right,” I joked. “Don’t forget about that part.”

Locking up my little house, I made my way through the Anderson’s. Violet was watching the Golden Girls on the couch while Calvin was reading a book beside her. It was a sweet scene that made me smile. I wanted what they had.

I gave them a smile and wave as I passed by. Violet returned it in full, her eyes kind and gentle, before going back to her show. Calvin put his book down and asked what time I was planning on coming back. He wanted to keep an eye out for my car.

“Around midnight,” I replied, moving my phone away from my mouth. Andrea was rambling about the new doctor on staff. I trusted her disdain enough to know he was a huge dick. “See you two tomorrow.”

“Be safe out there,” He replied, going back to his copy of The Catcher and the Rye.

Andy and I were on the phone for the entire car ride into Ann Arbor. I enjoyed hearing her voice, the small distraction welcome when I felt my anxiety spike. Thankfully it was a Sunday night, and the streets were somewhat empty.

Once I got into the downtown area, I drowned out her voice completely. Andrea never minded. She just kept talking like I hadn’t stepped out of whatever conversation we were just having. Never got mad when I kept asking her to repeat herself either. She was a wonderful friend to me, and I was grateful to have her in my life. If I moved to Saline, she would be the person I missed the most.

I still hadn’t talked to anyone else about the possibility of moving. I was not sure how they would react, and I needed to have my mind made up before giving any of them the news. While I knew Andy and Jin would be supportive, and Tilly and Minho wouldn’t really care all that much (it just gave them an excuse to vacation in Michigan), it was Hoseok I was most on the fence about.

With him it could go either way. He would either be really happy and supportive or call me crazy. It came from a place of love, and I respected his opinion more than any of the others, so I had to be completely sure of myself before getting into something like that with him. If he thought for a second I was rushing into things he would go into overprotective, big brother mode and kill all of my excitement. He might even be able to change my mind if he fought hard enough.

Pulling up to the restaurant, I was impressed by the sheer size of it. One half looked like an old warehouse while the other half was a small, white bricked building. A red neon sign glowed in the night and a large party was hanging out outside of the building. I could see Jimin in their little group and smiled. He was a very popular man in this area and was able to make new friends wherever he went. If I had to guess, he knew someone and is now best friends with all of them.

“Hey, I just got to the restaurant. I’m going to let you go.”

“Okay, baby,” Andy replied. “Have fun. Talk to you later.”

“Text you when I get home,” I replied.

Andy was as hypervigilant about getting texts as I was. She was on staff at the hospital when Namjoon and I first arrived. I can’t remember anything from that night after getting in Joon’s car, but when Jin and I spoke about it he said Andy was one of the nurses having to help triage me. She had to be physically pulled away from my body once the doctors found out about our connection, but the image of my body that night is burned into her mind. She was the person who took care of me the most upon release and quit her job at the hospital for a little while in order to make sure I was well taken care of. Calls and texts were just our thing now and I always felt horrible for being part of such a traumatic event for her.

“Love you,” She said.

“Love you too,” I replied, hanging up.

Getting out of my car, I locked the doors and made my way over to Jimin. He caught sight of me before I reached the small group and broke out into a huge, heart stopping smile. Unable to stop myself, I smiled back and waved awkwardly. He said something to the group before meeting me halfway.

“Hey, you,” He said, wrapping his arms around me. “You look really pretty.”

I laughed nervously, squeezing his waist. “Thanks. I tried my best.”

Pulling away, I was able to admire him a bit better. He was wearing light jeans tonight, a rarity as he preferred sweatpants and slacks, and a black t-shirt. A leather jacket was a staple in his wardrobe, and he always said they kept him warm enough. I never believed him. As always, everything was a tight fit and showed off his body perfectly.

“You don’t look too bad yourself,” I said once my appraisal was finished. “Nice boots. Where’d you get them?”

He looked down at the black, Chelsea boots and shrugged, “Nordstrom, I think. Taehyung got them for me a few Christmases ago.”

Of course he did.

“Let’s go inside. I’m cold.”

Jimin laughed, “My apologies, ma’am.”

The restaurant was packed, but Jimin had arrived thirty minutes early to get us on their waitlist, so I only had to wait five minutes for our table to be ready. Jimin brushed off the gesture as first date etiquette, but I knew better. The kid was late to everything and yet he got here early so I wouldn’t have to stand outside in the cold. It almost made me reach out and hold his hand, but my nerves got the best of me. We were at our table before I could gather up some courage, leaving a disappointed, bitter taste in my mouth.

“I’m feeling Disco Fries as an app. You?”

Searching the menu for them, I nodded. “That sounds really good.”

We were quiet for a few minutes as we decided on what we wanted. The menu here was rather large, filled with Mexican foods and copious BBQ items. Having never been here before I had no clue what was good and what hasn’t, but from how many people were here I had to assume nothing was bad.

“Know what you want?” Jimin asked, breaking the silence.

I shook my head, “No idea. What about you?”

“I get the same thing every time I come,” He laughed. “The Korean BBQ Burger is really fucking good. I also like the enchiladas.”

Finding both items, my mouth watered. Everything sounded amazing, but I wanted to get a little out of my comfort zone. I just had burgers yesterday, so I was not feeling that. Maybe BBQ? Looking at the options, I shook my head. I could not eat a half pound of anything. Biting the dry skin on my lips, my brain felt like it was working on overdrive. Too many options.

“Welcome to Union Rec,” I jumped a little, startled. “I’m Annie and I’ll be your server tonight.”

My eyes locked with a pair of baby blues, and I immediately recognized her. She was the brunette from the bar a couple of months ago. Eyes sliding from me, she landed on Jimin and the bored expression on her face morphed into one of pure bliss. I did not understand why she had given me that nasty look back then, but it was much clearer to me now. She had a thing for Jimin. Remembering she had a boyfriend, one she screamed at over the phone, it made me feel nauseous. Poor Tom.

“Oh my gosh, Christian. What are you doing here?” She asked, sneaking a look at me.

“Got a hot date,” He replied cheekily, gesturing his hand my way. “You remember Y/N, right?”

She gave me one of those tight-lipped, fake smiles. I returned the favor. I was not really jealous per say, Jimin’s declaration making any possibility of that disappear, but I did not appreciate anyone trying to make me feel small. I was a gold medalist. I was a fucking Olympian. Whoever the hell this chick thought she was, I would make sure she never thought for a second she got under my skin.

“Yeah, we met at Brecon’s,” Annie replied, completely ignoring me. “Thought she was your coach.”

Jimin either did not catch the insult or he was choosing to ignore it. His smile was still just as pleasant as it was when we first sat down. I envied his ability to keep his emotions so controlled. I knew I must have been glaring at the poor girl.

“She is,” He shrugged. “Doesn’t mean she’s not my girlfriend. Are you taking our order or…?”

Annie spluttered for a second before regaining her composure. All affection in her eyes was gone and replaced by irritation. It was definitely directed at me, but Jimin’s dismissal must have stung. I was happy to be rid of her. Putting in our order for Disco fries, Jimin got a Sprite and Annie left before I could ask for a drink. Sipping on my complimentary water, I forced myself to breathe in and out. She was just a petty, annoyed girl with a crush. That was all. So, what if she was being rude? I was fine. Everything was fine. After the fifth sip, I actually believed it.

Trying to keep my tongue in check, I went back to looking through the menu. Finally able to make a choice, I decided on the birria beef ramen and closed the menu. Hopefully little miss Annie wouldn’t spit in it. Hot again, I took another long sip of water.

“Excuse me.”

Jimin flagged down another waiter, a pleasant smile on his face. Confused, I put down the glass and raised an eyebrow. He winked at me before laying the charm on thick.

“Hey Marty. Would you mind if we got a different server?”

The young girl nodded frantically, “Of course. Is everything okay?”

Jimin smiled, eyes like crescents. “Everything is fine. Just Annie on her bullshit. Don’t want to get her fired by talking to your dad.”

Marty rolled her eyes, “Figures. I’ll tell her I’m taking care of you guys. Just don’t expect me to be running around for you, man. I have an entire section by myself.”

“I want privacy anyway,” Jimin replied, smirking at me. “Thanks. I’ll tip you well.”

She laughed, “Just make sure you put it in my hand. That bitch has been stealing tips. Cosette is trying to convince pops to fire her, but you know how he is about the girl.”

Jimin shook his head, “I already know. Can you get my girl a drink? Annie ran off without taking her order.”

Marty looked at me, her deadpan stare making me burst into laughter. Apparently, it wasn’t just me. That helped.

“Sorry about her. She’s a massive bitch. What can I get you?”

I smiled, my mood a million times better, “Iced tea, please.”

“You got it, babe. You ready to order?”

Marty took our orders and promised to be back with my drink soon.

“How do you two know each other?” I asked Jimin, finishing off my water.

“We were in the same class back in high school. Her mom owns that flower shop on Michigan Avenue.”

That was surprising. I was positive the girl was no older than eighteen. She reminded me of a porcelain doll, her chubby cheek and big eyes adding something angelic to her overall look. Then again, Jimin did not look all that old either. It was easy to forget he just turned 24. The age gap was really messing with my brain.

Annie was back with Jimin’s drink a few minutes later. She said nothing when she practically slammed his cup on the table before stalking off. It was then that I knew who she reminded me of. Darcy. I wondered if they were friends. Definitely had the same attitude problem, that was for sure.

“Ignore her,” Jimin told me once she was out of earshot. “I’ve been doing it since middle school.”

The rest of our dinner went back without a hitch. With Annie out of the way, and Marty’s small and infrequent check-in’s, we were able to be in a bubble of sorts. He asked about my trip back home and filled me in on what happened over the weekend. He had finally told his parents about our date and said that his mom thought it was a great idea. James called me perfect a few times, too. I had a hard time believing it, but Jimin had never lied to me before. It was nice to know the people around him accepted me even if I was a few years older.

“My mom’s 9 years older than my dad,” He revealed in between bites of food.

Shocked, I stopped eating all together. I had no idea they were that different in age. Ne-Yeon looked so youthful and pretty it was hard to guess just how old she actually was. Even fighting cancer, that woman did not look a day over 40. James was also in great shape for his age. To hear they had their own age gap made me feel a little bit better.

“Wait,” Something else occurred to me. “Your mom was in her forties when she had you?”

Jimin nodded, “45. She had Haru at 48.”

It made sense to me now. To Jimin, our age gap was nothing special. It was smaller than his parents’, and having an older mother did not bother him at all. In his eyes, we had all of the time in the world for marriage and kids. A small weight came off of my shoulders. It really did not mean anything to him. He was not just saying that to make me feel better either.

“Do you want dessert?” He asked, his plate empty in front of him.

I was almost done with my bowl, “What do they have?”

He squinted his eyes, thinking.

“I know they have this horchata banana pudding. It’s literally the best dessert I’ve ever had in my life. There are a few other things, but I can’t remember what they are.”

I chuckled, “Then we’ll have the banana pudding.”

Jimin was not exaggerating either. The pudding was delicious. I almost wished we had each gotten our own serving, but after seeing the bill we were happy we hadn’t. Jimin paid this time. We had a back-and-forth deal when it came to meals. I got us breakfast last Wednesday, so he was picking up this bill. This was, unfortunately, much higher than Denny’s.

“I’ll put gas in your truck,” I offered on our way out. “To make up for the difference from Denny’s.”

He scoffed, “Don’t worry about it.”

“But-”

“We’re together now,” He interrupted me. “If I want to pay for a meal, then I will. You don’t have to pay me back.”

“We’ve always done that,” I argued.

“That was before,” He countered, walking me to my car door and opening it. “This is now. And right now, I’m trying to take a pretty girl, in a pretty dress, on a nice date. That includes paying for her meal.”

Getting into my seat, I pointed out that I let him do the gentleman thing all of the time. Opening my door for me, pulling chairs out at restaurants, and even walking on the curbside when we were out together. The list was endless. The least I could do was pay for half of a meal.

“I don’t do those things to get on your good side,” Jimin replied. “I do them because I want to. This isn’t transactional. So, stop worrying about being a burden. I enjoy taking care of you. You deserve to be taken care of.”

I could not think of a good enough comeback, so I just decided to drop it. If he wanted to pay for me then he could. It was his money to spend.

“Send me your address.”

“You still want to come over?” He seemed surprised.

“Yeah,” I nodded, already pulling up the GPS. “What is it?”

He sounded like Charlie when he won the golden ticket as he gave me his address.

“Don’t get too excited now,” I joked. “Just because I’m coming over doesn’t mean anything.”

Jimin laughed, “I pretend I don’t even know what sex is until after date three, so don’t worry about it.”

That made me laugh, “Get in your truck. I’ll meet you there.”

Looking back at him, I felt giddy. His eyes were so alight, his joy written so clearly across his face it took my breath away. A happy Jimin was the only kind I wanted to see. Blowing caution to the wind, I finally reached out. Touching his stomach, I felt the muscles clench beneath my fingers.

“Thank you,” I said earnestly.

“What for?” He rasped, placing one hand over mine, pressing my hand further into his skin.

“For-” I broke off, taking my hand away. The feeling of him underneath me was too much. “For being so accommodating. I really appreciate it.”

He laughed, the sound strained and airy. I was too embarrassed by my actions to look at his face, but I could feel his eyes burning into the side of my eyes. Unlike me, Jimin was always brave. Hopefully some of that confidence would rub off on me. Maybe then I could reach out and hold him whenever I wanted to.

“You’re welcome,” He replied, and my thighs clenched together at how rough he sounded. Did touching him do that? Or was it the praise? It could be both. “Drive safe, okay? You can follow me if that helps.”

I nodded, swallowing. The icy air outside did nothing to put out the blistering heat coursing between us right now. It was overwhelming how hot it was. Turning up my A/C, I pointed the vent directly at my face.

“See you in a few minutes,” I breathed, still unable to look at him.

Jimin closed my door, and I leaned back in my seat breathing heavily. I watched him as he rounded the front of my car, those pants sticking to his legs like a second skin and groaned. I had never felt this level of desire for anyone before.

He reminded me so much of Namjoon. His beautiful brain and love for music and poetry so reminiscent it managed to bring me back to happier times. In the beginning I was afraid my attraction to him stemmed from that link. Because he reminded me of something I had loved so dearly that meant what I was beginning to feel was just a projection.

I was wrong. So unbelievably wrong. Jimin had a passion that Joon could never replicate. If Joon was a warm blanket, then Jimin was like the tide in the sea. On the surface it was calm, steady, and beautiful. Underneath that was life like nothing I had ever seen before. He was refreshing and filled with this fire for life that reminded me of my own from years ago.

Namjoon was perfect, a boy-next-door, and soft spoken. Back then I had enough of that passion for the both of us. Now I saw more and more parallels between us than ever before. I was uncertain, waiting for someone else to bring excitement back into my life, too afraid to reach out and take what I wanted anymore.

And then Jimin was there with that big smile willing to take me on whatever adventure I desired. All I had to do was ask. It was exhilarating, fun, and I was happy to be a part of the ride. His softness, his kindness, his understanding- all of it wrapped up in a pretty red bow. A gift that kept on giving.

I did not love Jimin, but I knew then that I could. With his sharp tongue and charisma, it was impossible not to. Everyone else did. Who was I to think I could be any different? I was a slave to his happiness. It was in that moment, sitting in my car, that I finally understood what was happening.

I was falling in love and there was nothing I could do to stop it.

Taglist: @ownthesunshine @screamertannie @lovelytaes-blog @pernesianparapio @tae-with-some-suga @sumzysworld @chimmisbae

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nomoreusername · 2 months

Text

A Bittersweet Reunion

Pairing:Gally x female reader

Summary:Despite the way reuniting with Gally should be only happy, you both end up going through every kind of emotion.

You didn't know you had missed the official reunion of your dead boyfriend. To be fair, being stabbed by some random person because you got a little too close to someone in a crowd probably does require some medical attention. Still, you had gone more than half a year grieving over him and swore you were every other second. You were just one stage away from acceptance that he was actually dead.

Apparently, you never even had to. While that would admittedly be quite an annoyance when you found out, it would be a happy one.

Gally had been pretty anxious about seeing you all day. While he still listened with full attention to the more than dangerous reason everyone had traveled all the way to the very last city (Denver), the back of his mind was filled with you. Were you okay? Were you safe? Had anything extreme happened to you while he was gone? Did you hate him with every part of you? Did you move on?

So many questions and no answers. Not until he was able to get back to the Right Arm base and see you. Would you punch him in the face the way Thomas had? Would you want to see him? Who knows? Certainly not him.

You were waiting on a bench, your arm wrapped in fresh bandages. While it was now a numb hurt, it was definitely painful. Any idiot would know be able to tell.

It was getting late. You didn't know exactly what time it was since there weren't any clocks or windows near you, but you were certain of that. Nobody had given you any information about anything. You weren't informed of why or where your friends had vanished off the face of the earth. Nobody was aware that you're Gally's lover so they didn't bother to tell you about that. As far as they knew, you were less than a stranger on the street to him.

He wasn't sure if Thomas had only said you were here to hurt him more. He wasn't sure if Thomas had lied to make sure he would have hope torn away from him. He wasn't sure if Newt had confirmed it because he wanted to cover for him. He wasn't sure if Fry had said it too out of frustration at all his actions the last time they had seen each other.

Apparently, you're right behind the door standing in front him. That's what everyone told him before they left to eat.

He couldn't eat. If he did, he was sure he would vomit. His stomach was twisted in knots, threatening to suffocate his organs.

Taking a deep breath, he told himself to be strong and get it over with before he opened the door.

You looked up from the floor you had fixated on for almost an hour. When you found yourself staring at your love that you thought you lost forever, you froze.

He didn't know what to do. He didn't know what your reaction meant. He didn't know if you were shocked, afraid, angry, or any type of emotion.

You hadn't found your voice, but you were able to stand.

He was still your Gally though. He had to be. If he moved on while you were staying loyal to someone you thought was dead, that would be a new kind of betrayal.

He had grown almost an inch taller, making the height difference just a little more obvious. His brown hair was now completely buzzed. His coffee eyes held this certain softness that you had never seen from him before.

He was still here.

All he could do was look at you. Your hair had grown a little since he last saw you but was still the same Y/H/C color. Your Y/E/C eyes still held this gentleness that he didn't think he could ever have. Everything about you just seemed better despite almost nothing having changed. Better than he ever had been. Better than he could ever be.

In his mind at least. In yours, your other half was right in front of you.

“Gally?”You whispered, eventually remembering how to speak.

“I’m sorry,”He whispered back, not knowing what exactly he was apologizing for. Killing Chuck? Waiting so long to go with you? You living your life believing he was dead? Every one of those and more?

Slowly walking over, you stared at him for a moment. Just as he was staring back you threw your arms around him, the tears pouring from your eyes no matter how much you squeezed them shut. Silently sobbing into his chest, you hugged him as tightly as you could, afraid that if you let go this would be another dream.

He was never a crier. He hated it. Nobody had ever seen him cry. Not even you.

He didn't care about that right now. The love of his life was sobbing at the realization that he was alive despite the way he had stayed up for nights thinking that you hate him now. The love of his life was breaking down with emotion.

Holding you back, he rested his chin on your head as the tears dripped down his cheeks. Shutting his eyes, he repeated apologies. Each one made you cry harder as you realized he thought he had something to be guilty for.

“I missed you,”You mumbled into his shirt, firmly gripping it in your hands.

“I missed you too. I missed you everyday,”He promised, his voice cracking. As he tried to pull away you shook your head and pulled him as close as possible. You didn't want him to disappear yet. Something like that had to be some sick dream. There was no way this was real. “I’m here. I’m right here,”He soothed, rubbing your back.

Knowing that the longer you stayed the more it would hurt when you awoke you quickly pulled away, wiping your eyes. With your face buried in your hands, you waited for your heart to ache again in a way that put you two steps back.

Instead, you felt his hands in yours. Slowly pulling your hands away, you kept them in your sides as he cupped your face.

Suddenly, a group of people ambushed you. While some of them tore Thomas away from Chuck others were grabbing you, forcing you from your lover's body. Shouting for them to leave you with him, you tried to hold on, reaching for him.

This was real.

“Gally.”

“Y/N.”

A small smile creeped onto your face despite the tears falling from your eyes. Wiping them with his thumbs, he smiled back as his own spilled.

Pressing his lips to your temple, he kissed your forehead. Feeling your heart flutter in your chest, you gazed at him with nothing less than love. Looking at you the same way, he thanked every higher power there may be that you had found your way to him.

♡ - - - ♡

It was wrong. Maybe. Maybe it was disgusting that as everyone else cried over Chuck as he slowly died you had run over to Gally. Clutching his shirt on your hands, you let out silent yet pained screams. Bowing your head, as you found your voice you demanded that he wake up. You had already had to run through the Maze thinking you would never see him again. It wasn't fair that he would leave just as you had him. It wasn't fair.

“Wake up!”You demanded, shaking him.

He wanted to. He wanted to say that he was just barely holding on. He wanted to say that this on top of the sting meant he was paralyzed.

He couldn't though. He just had to watch you sob as you believed it was over.

He couldn't. He didn't think his mouth would even allow him to say those words. He didn’t want to hurt you all over again.

There were more of them, and they were stronger than you. That meant that no matter how much adrenaline you had and how much of a fight you put up they were able to drag you out the door.

As he watched you leave a single tear dripped down his cheek.

Sitting straight up, you gasped for air as sweat ran down your entire body. Putting your hand over your chest, you tried to take deep breaths.

You had had that dream more times than you could remember. It had haunted you, had made you afraid to sleep for months. You avoided it until you were sick and passing out standing up.

You thought reuniting with him would surely fix that. It only made sense for you to feel okay again.

You don't. Not in the slightest.

Gally had heard you wake up. It was impossible not to since you had both fallen asleep on the floor right outside the medical room, you being held in his arms.

Leaning against the wall, you put your knees to your chest as you kept telling yourself that he’s right beside you.

It had been so long though that nothing seemed real. Absolutely nothing.

“It's okay,”He coaxed, sitting in front of you. Slowly pulling your hands away from your face, he pressed his palms to your cheeks as he looked at you. “It's okay,”He repeated, not knowing and not needing to know what was going on. All that mattered was that something made you cry.

“Please don't leave again?”You begged through shaky breaths.

He didn't know how to tell you that he had to stay here. Maybe. How could he possibly explain that he pledged his allegiance to Right Arm? How could he ever tell you that now that you're here he didn't know what was right? That he didn't know how he could explain it? That he didn't know if there was any getting out of this? That maybe your only chance of being together forever was you staying here instead of going back with your friends?

All he wanted was to savor this time with you. No matter how short or how long it was, he just wanted to take in every moment, to burn every second into his head.

“Thomas-”

He was worried that if he spoke he would spill everything he couldn't yet. That he would admit all the things he didn't want to.

Making sure no words could escape, he firmly pushed his lips against yours. Shutting your eyes, you wrapped your arms around his neck, letting yourself get lost in the kiss. Depending it, he let his hands travel down your waist and to your outer thighs, keeping you close to him. Not wanting to pull away anyway, you separated to breathe for only a second before crashing your lips back against his.

As you were falling into the other's touch, the door opened, making you both pull apart. Standing there and staring at you with wide eyes, was a dumbfounded Thomas.

“How could you?”He sputtered out.

“He’s a killer. You can make all the excuses you want-”

“He killed Chuck. How could you sit there and kiss a murderer? How?”

“It wasn't his fault,”You said firmly, standing up to be on his level.

“But he still did. He killed him. He pulled the trigger.”

“It's not an excuse. It's the reason. He would never, ever hurt Chuck. Ever.”

“Yeah. He was aiming for you.”

“Excuse me?!”

“How does that fix it?”He snapped, his glare turning sharper.

“If I was stung and remembered how much you hurt us, I would probably try to kill you too.”

You couldn't avoid it forever though. You both knew that.

“This was your fault, Thomas! You set it up! You made the Maze! You trapped your friends in there! You can pretend you didn't, but it doesn't change it! You! Are! Guilty!”

“I fixed it!”

“No you didn't! Minho is missing! People are dead! You didn't fix shit!”

“I never killed anyone!”He denied, ignoring the pang of hurt it put in his chest. The guilt of all the people he lost would still strike him out of nowhere. The fact that one of his friends would think the same only made it worse, though he covered it up with anger.

You didn't believe that, but you couldn't let him insult Gally. If that meant reminding him of the indirect blood on his own hands, so be it.

“Chuck jumped in front of you so you wouldn't die. You didn't move fast enough, and now he's dead. You didn't push him away, and now he's dead. You were a Runner, and you still weren't fast enough. He’s gone. He’s never coming back. He cared about you so much that he gave his life. If you didn't exist, he would still be here.”

With a scowl and tears pricking his eyes, he left, slamming the door so hard it shook the hinges.

With a frustrated groan, you slid down the wall behind you, running your hands through your hair. Sitting beside you, Gally let the silence fill the room as he ran out of things to say. He just placed his hand on your knee, promising that he was still here.

For now.

♡ - - - ♡

Thomas was still furious at you. He felt betrayed. He felt as though you genuinely hated him.

Gally was just supposed to be showing them Teresa. He was only supposed to be explaining the plan.

As Thomas’s coldness chilled the air though, it was obvious he would have to say something.

“I know that you don't like me. I know you hate me. I know you think I hurt you, that I hurt Chuck, out of anger,”He tried, leaning against the railing. Looking at him with a blank expression, Thomas let him speak. “The thing is you don't have to like me. You don't have to want anything to do with me. You don’t have to be my friend. I don't expect that from you,”He sighed.

Thomas was positive that was true. That he would never like him.

“If you care about Minho, if you want to rescue him, you do have to trust me though. If you don't, this won't work. It will only lead to arguing and no communication. It will ruin the entire thing.”

Pursing his lips, Thomas felt his stomach drop as he realized the truth to his words.

“So until this is over, can we be civil? Can you trust me? When it's done, you won't ever have to see me again. Until that happens though, can you do that?”

Sighing, Thomas leaned against the railing further away, nodding as he knew it was true.

“Okay. Until this is over,”He accepted.

“What do you mean we won't ever see you again? Aren't you going back to be with Y/N?”Newt asked slowly, picking up on the words.

With guilt flooding his chest, Gally bowed his head, looking at the concrete ground miles below him.

“Gally, she's been a wreck for months. This morning is the most fine she's looked since you were gone. You can't do this to her again.”

“I . . . I don't know what I’m going to do,”He confessed.

“Y/N needs you. You don't understand how hard it's been on her. You can't abandon her again,”Newt kept pushing.

“It's not that simple.”

“How is not that simple?”

“I have a job here.”

“You told her you would always be loyal to her. She had plenty of options to pick from. She had people she could have been with. She could have been with so many others, but she still chose you. She thought you were dead, and you still came first.”

At his words, Thomas felt remorse for the fight last night. He realized he had let his emotions overtake him. You loved Chuck too, but Gally had been your world. You couldn't just move on. It didn't work like that. No matter what he did, you two loved each other in a way most people would never understand.

If he could still love Teresa, why couldn't you love Gally? She had done it on purpose yet his heart still yearns for her. Why would it be fair to not let yours yearn for him?

“I know. I just don't know what I’m going to do yet. For now, just don't tell her? I need to figure out what comes next, and then I will. So please just don't say anything?”He pleaded.

Newt knew all about secrets. He was great at keeping those.

“Yeah. Okay.”

♡ - - - ♡

You and Thomas hadn't really spoken. Neither of you had the courage to talk about what had went down. Not yet.

“I’m sorry. For getting mad at you about being with Gally. And for calling him a murderer. I don't . . . I’m not really over it, but I know he means a lot to you. He makes you happy. You're my friend so I love you, and I want you to be happy.”

He was nervous and admittedly still a little hurt. At the same time, he knew he had hurt you too. He had essentially accused you of betrayal as if he didn't love someone on the other side.

Needless to say, you weren't the most excited when he had pulled you aside to speak to you.

Of all the things to leave his mouth, you didn't expect that.

“I know you didn't kill anyone. It's not your fault. It never was, and I shouldn't have thrown that in your face. I wasn't angry, but I was hurt. At the end of the day though, you are my friend too. You paid your debt so long ago, and you don't need to anymore. You shouldn't be reminded of it. Nobody's deaths were your fault, and I'm sorry.”

He thought about the promise last night. How Gally made them say they wouldn't tell you he didn't know why to do yet.

It was going to suck when he did, and it already sucked to keep the secret.

“So we're okay again?”He clarified.

You had all slowly left when Thomas followed him, trying to process it. None of you were stupid. No matter how in denial you were, you knew the truth deep down.

“Yeah. We are.”

Hopefully, you still will be when this is over. Or hopefully you never find out that he knows.

♡ - - - ♡

You had all watched Newt push Thomas against a wall. You had all watched him scream in his face. You had all watched the regret in his eyes when he pulled away. You had all watched him leave holding his arm.

You stared at the wall, your face blank as everything became too real. Gally was beside you, his hand on your knee as he took it in himself.

♡ - - - ♡

“This sucks,”You whispered, breaking the tense silence.

“Yeah. It does,”He nodded, not knowing what else to say. Then again, did anything need to be said? No words could change Newt becoming a Crank, and it did in fact suck.

“We fixed Brenda. Somehow. We can fix him,”You mumbled half to yourself and half to him.

“What do you mean?”

“Brenda got bit but a Crank a few months ago. Mary gave her some kind of shot, and it cured her,”You explained.

“So we need to get him to Mary.”

“Janson shot and killed her,”You said simply. There was no other way to put it. That was what happened.

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

Going back to silence, you placed your hand on top of his. Both of you were still staring straight ahead, trying to decide what comes next.

“If you can't even decide-”

“Why would you keep this from me?!”

He should have known better than to think you wouldn't find out. He should have realized that somehow, someway, someone in Right Arm would spill everything. They didn't even mean to. They weren't aware that you weren't supposed to know yet here you are.

“I didn't know how to tell you,”He repeated, saying the same thing yet again. With that only frustrating you more, you tried to shove past only for him to grab your hand, desperately pulling you towards him.

“I don't want to talk to you!”

“I’m sorry. I just wanted to be with you.”

“Why the hell would I want to be with you when you were just going to leave again?!”

“I’m not leaving. I don't know what I’m doing yet.”

“Well, do it without me!”

“I don't want to do anything without you!”He yelled back.

“You clearly do! You can pick Right Arm! I won’t be a second choice! I will never let myself be that!”

“You're not a second choice!”

“I understand if you don't want to be with me anymore. I really-”

“I love you!”

Both of you froze at his words. For as long as he could remember, he has never told anyone that, even you.

This was a hell of a way to say it.

“What?”You whispered, your anger slowly fading into disbelief.

“I love you. I have loved you for almost as long as I can remember. I feel more for you than I ever have for anyone. You, it's always been you. For so long, it's been you. For so long, you have been my everything. I thought this would be hard. I thought I wouldn't know what to do. I thought I would be too focused on taking down WCKD to actually know, but it's so obvious now. You are the right decision. You are what matters to me. Not revenge, not forgiveness, not proving myself, not a cure. As long as you love me, as long as you still want to be with me, my life is complete. I know that now. I know what the only right choice is.”

Gawking at him, you tried to figure out where this soft-spoken boy came from.

“I love you too,”You promised through heavy breaths as you pulled away.

Cutting him off, you slipped your hand out of his to hold his face before smashing your lips against his. Freezing for a moment, he tried to comprehend that you still wanted to be with him. When it did sink in, he wrapped his arms around your waist, gently kissing you back. Pushing him against the wall behind him, you frantically deepen it, desperation practically radiating off of both of you. For as long as you were capable of, you put off oxygen, deciding that this was much more important. Not the kissing. Being so close to each other that you were practically one.

You kissed until you inevitably ran out of air.

Kidnapping Teresa and getting inside of WCKD had gone off without a hitch. To be honest, there wasn't a real reason for it not to. Everyone had gone over the plan more than enough times, and she had reacted exactly the way Thomas said she would.

“I love you. I love you, and I always will,”He repeated, the words easily rolling off his tongue as though he said them everyday.

This is good. Right now is okay.

How the people he works with will take it is a different story.

♡ - - - ♡

“No,”Lance said simply.

“No? What do you mean no?”

“I mean no. You can't quit to be with some girl.”

“This isn't some girl. This is my girl,”He said firmly, putting both his hands on the table as he looked him in the eye. Literally.

“You made a deal. Your loyalties are here now.”

“I was loyal to her first. I can't not be.”

“You can, and you will be,”He argued.

“No. This is my Y/N. This is my girl, and she comes first. Nothing you do will stop me. Nothing,”He spat, turning around to walk out.

“If you leave, we’ll take her instead.”

Stopping in his tracks, Gally slowly turned around. Lance simply nodded, his hands behind his back.

“What?”

“We’ll take her and not to take your spot. If you leave, we’ll kill your girl.”

“That's not fair. You can't do that.”

“Life isn't fair.”

“No. You don't get to touch her,”He scowled, storming up to him. With the coldest eyes a person has ever had, he glared at him.

“But we will. You know very well we can get to anyone we want.”

“You're a monster.”

“Of course I am.”

“No. You can still think. You're an actual monster. You're heartless.”

“Yes. I am.”

“I won't let you take her.”

“I will.”

“No. Nobody will put a hand on her. You understand? Not while I’m around.”

“Then, I guess we’ll make sure you aren't around.”

Going completely speechless, his heart dropped to his stomach.

“You can make a choice. You either break it off with her tonight or we’ll take her tomorrow. Your choice.”

With that, he went back to tending to his roses as though he hadn't just ruined Gally's only chance of happiness.

♡ - - - ♡

“I don't actually love you.”

The words were simple yet somehow the cruel ones your ears had ever heard.

“What?”

“I lied. I don't love you. I barely even liked you,”He deadpanned, keeping his face expressionless as he looked into your eyes.

“What the hell are you talking about? We’ve been together for years. Now all of a sudden it meant nothing?”

“It never meant anything.”

Looking at him, at his calm demeanor, at his emotionless face, at the empty shell of a person, you swore this was a stranger.

“How? How could you be with me since the Glade, wait for me, kiss me like I’m everything, call me your first choice, and tell me you love me, only to not mean it?”You asked in disbelief.

“I was hoping you would have given it up, but you're taking too long. I never felt anything for you.”

It was the most despicable excuse he could think of. It was the coldest, most humiliating reason he could come up with.

That's what he wanted. If he made himself look like the worst person to exist, you wouldn't miss him. You wouldn't want anything to do with him. You would hate him instead of being hurt by him. You wouldn't blame yourself.

The more it stung now, the sooner you could heal. You could move on and find someone better, someone that isn't him. You could be happy.

All he wanted was for you to be safe and happy, even if that means losing you.

“Are you fucking kidding with me? We had four damn years together just because you wanted me to give it up? Are you fucking serious, Gally?”

“Why wouldn't I be?”

With nothing less than hatred burning in your eyes, you shoved past him. As you were in the doorway though, you said something that may as well kneed him in the gut.

“I wish you actually died.”

With that, you turned out, wiping the tears streaming down your cheeks.

With a devastated sigh, he shut the door before leaning against it. Putting his head in his hands, he felt the regrets of everything he had ever done in life hit him all at once.

♡ - - - ♡

Taking slow steps forward, the others dropped to their knees as well, the shock of it all hitting them like a gunshot. Gripping the cure, you held it to your chest, to your heart, the once light object now being the heaviest thing you had ever held. It was his one shot at life, now nothing but a worthless liquid.

You hadn't spoken a direct word to him. You hadn't even spoken about him. You just pretended he was some random stranger on a mission with you and silently cried yourself to sleep only to repeat the cycle the next day.

He wanted to say something when he heard you covering your mouth as salty tears flowed down your face. He wanted to tell you that he had only hurt you so you wouldn't be killed. He wanted to come clean. He wanted to be with you after months of separation.

He knew he can't though. Not yet. Not until he can fully get out of the city.

The plan was organized before the break up, and you didn't want anyone to know what you currently believed was the truth. That meant you had accepted your original position of being amongst the WCKD guards for longer than the others the way Gally was.

You debated shooting him with the weapon in your hand. Watching him go down and struggle seemed worth it right now. It seemed deserved. Even if you missed him, you’d get to shoot an actual WCKD guard, though you’d admittedly prefer for your shot to be right on point. You had never hated anyone with this kind of fiery passion until now.

In the end, you held back. When this was over, you would never have to see him again. You could go back to pretending he was dead.

You both watched as Thomas, Newt, and Minho jumped through a window. Under your mask, you grinned at the way he had been rescued. It has taken almost forever, but it happened. He was basically officially out of WCKD. As soon as you all left the city, that would be it. Everything could go back to normal.

You looked as they landed in the swimming pool under them. With that same wide smile, you came out of your position with the other WCKD workers and Gally. Making sure your gun was drawn and out, you allowed one of them to talk so you wouldn't blow your cover. As they were in the middle of demanding your three friends to surrender, you turned and shot him. At the same time, Gally took down others, being sure to avoid you. He had already caused you enough pain. Your heart would physically ache, and you had still barely been able to stomach anything. The last thing you needed, that you deserved, was more hurt.

When they were all unconscious you and Gally jumped down the small steps. When he pulled his mask off, he simply nodded and made a remark about them being nuts. You on the other hand ran straight up to Minho.

You didn't throw your arms around him. The last thing you wanted was to hurt him. Instead, you carefully hugged him, keeping your grip loose. Tightly hugging you back anyway, he stared at Gally with wide eyes as he did. This was definitely something he didn't expect.

Keeping his face neutral, he pushed down the lump in his throat at how close you two seemed again. He had already been worried about your relationship before, but now that he had to break your heart there was no guarantee that you two wouldn't be more. Even after he explained, you taking him back felt like a dream that he would spend the rest of his life chasing.

Shaking his head, he started walking away. Everyone else followed, prepared for the next step of the plan. Even if Minho didn't know what that was, he knew it was better than getting caught again.

♡ - - - ♡

You were all so close. You had run straight through bombs and gunfire for Newt. You had kept the cure in your hand, ready to save his life.

You didn't.

As you sprinted up, your heart shattered yet again in a brand new way as you looked at one of your best friends, dead on the floor, a knife penetrating his chest. Your body locked up as you met Thomas’s eyes that were full of something you couldn't decipher. There was some kind of guilt and maybe even blame. They were numbed over, done with everything.

Tears streamed down your face as he got up and walked away. Still focused on your best friend, you didn't even notice that the others had arrived beside you.

You couldn't meet their gaze. Not when you had the cure that would never be used, the cure that could have saved him, the cure that you hadn't gotten to him quick enough in your hand. Not even able to walk, you fell to your knees in that spot, the needle still tightly clutched between your fingers.

The Safe Haven didn't feel the way you had imagined, the way you thought it should. You didn't feel thankful to be there. You didn't feel happy. You just felt tired, drained, like a shell of a person.

You all stayed in that position, mourning not only Newt, but everybody that you had all lost. Ben, Alby, Chuck, Jack, Winston, and all your friends you hadn't had the time or energy to while in the Glade. It wasn't until Jorge had come with his Berg that you had been forced to get up.

You couldn't. You still felt trapped, as if you were watching from someone else's eyes. Knowing that you had to go, Gally laid a hand on your shoulder. Looking up at him with tears in your eyes, you shook your head and silently begged to stay here and die in the city. Shaking his head back, he reminded you that even now it wasn't over. In far too much distress to argue, you shakily got up. When your legs almost gave out, he caught you. Letting you lean against him, he led you to the Berg with everyone else and now Vince as well. When he got here, none of you knew, but none of you cared either. It would never change anything.

It would never bring Newt or anybody else back.

It would never get rid of your guilt.

♡ - - - ♡

You didn't cry. You couldn't find it in yourself to. You just sat by the shore, writing all their names in the sand over and over until you couldn't even feel your fingers.

You didn't celebrate being alive and well at the bonfire. How could you when you didn't even feel alive? How could you when so many people weren't? How could you when almost everyone you knew would never make it here?

You thought back to the moment he had broken your heart, and something clicked in your head. You hadn't noticed it at the time, too drunk on fury, but his voice has cracked. He was close to tears, and he had dark bags under his eyes.

You thought about everything. Not just the people that were gone but the people that were here. Thomas who you had made up with. Frypan who you had never fought with. Minho who you had helped rescue.

Gally.

“Y/N, I’m sorry. I know what I said was messed up. I know that I hurt you, but I didn't want to. I never would. I-”

His words had been lies. You were sure of it now.

Gally hadn't gone to the celebration either. He was too busy looking for you. Somehow, he had to fix it. Now that Lance was dead and you weren't in danger, he had to make it right. He had to explain it so at the very least you would understand that you were and had always been his world.

It took him an hour to find you, in which he had rehearsed what he wanted to say. He had to get the words exactly right. He couldn't afford to mess it up any more than he already has. He couldn't afford to destroy your feelings and heart all over again.

Time seemed to freeze as he saw you by the ocean, your back turned to everyone.

Taking deep breaths, he took slow steps towards you, each one having a new kind of purpose. He made sure his shoes crunched on the sand so you wouldn't be caught off guard.

You heard, but you didn't turn around. You didn't need to. You already knew who it was, you knew why he was here, and you knew that he would sit by you. You knew that even though you were in shambles, you two had time to be fixed. After losing everybody, how could you bear to lose someone alive? How could you make yourself grieve for someone who was breathing? How could you ignore one of the only people in your life who was actually in it?

He took a spot beside you. Staring out into the abyss, you allowed the silence to fill between you two as he stared at you, pleading for you to look at him. While you wanted to, you couldn't find it in yourself to actually move. You just sat there, gathering your own jumbled thoughts.

It was enough though. You were both just barely okay to know that you would be strong enough to survive the rest of your lives here, side by side.

“I don't want to know what happened. I don’t want to know why. I just know that you didn't mean your words, and I just want you back,”You whispered.

Taking another breath, he nodded in understanding despite the way you weren't looking at him. While that wasn't what he expected, it was something good. It was one of the only good things actually. Even though he had a feeling you would want to know later, that was all he needed to hear to be quiet now.

When he faced the open sea the way you were, you took his hand, gripping it the way you had the cure. Tightly holding your hand as well, he ran his thumb over your knuckles as you both sat there, trying to figure out what the journey would be from here.

You both didn't know. None of you ever had, and it was likely none of you ever would.

Right now was bittersweet though. It wasn't happy. It wasn't alright.

#gally x y/n #gally x you #gally x reader #maze runner gally #gally maze runner #tmr gally #gally tmr #gally #the maze runner #tmr #one shot #long oneshot #fluff #angst #emotional hurt/comfort #bittersweet fluff

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hellishjoel · 8 months

Text

when you know, you know (mini chapter)

3.2k / pairing: linecook!frankie x waitress f!reader Series Masterlist l Previous Chapter | Main Masterlist | Notifications Blog | Ko-Fi

summary: A flashback shows Tommy’s crew enjoying Christmas Eve at the diner. Frankie makes his first move with a New Year’s kiss.

warnings/information: MA 18+ (minors DNI), half-ass editing because I’m exhausted (I’ll reread it tomorrow and fix any errors I catch, food and alcohol consumption, reader is has no physical description, swearing, smoking, pet names (princess, asshole ((yes it’s a pet name to me))), christmas/holiday themes, a first kiss is shared that starts this whole journey.

A/N: look at these stinkin cute dividers I made for Table for Two! like shut up! I hope this mini chapter holds you guys over for a little as I also give my focus to cherry thrill and delicate with the beautiful and talented @thetriumphantpanda! also thank you to @undercoverpena for helping me dial down my brain and helping me focus on writing what I really want to write first 💛

Tommy’s Diner. One year ago. The recollection of events is slightly impaired due to alcohol consumption.

The last time it snowed on Christmas Eve in Texas was 2012. It wasn’t a normal, pretty, White Christmas. It was snow. And sleet. And pea-sized balls of hail. The winter storm began in Breckenridge, near Denver. It grew and spiraled, traveling southeast to Northern Texas.

By the time the storm saw Austin, it barely affected the city in terms of transportation. Just beautiful little white flakes, all of them unique, not one like the other. And it was dazzling.

Now, ten years later, in a mythically euphoric way, they land on the pavement in front of your sneakers. A snowflake lands on the toe of your shoe, melting quickly into the material. You let out an appreciative hum and bundle yourself tighter in your jacket, letting the size swallow you.

The diner bustles inside. It’s busy, very busy. You thought people would like to be at home on Christmas Eve, celebrating with their families before the holiday rounded out in the following twenty-four hours. But some people have traditions here.

Older couples who met here on a first date still make their anniversary appearances. There’s this older couple you see like clockwork every year, Maude and Gil.

Gil said he met Maude by accident. Took off from the lumber mill in a hurry to grab a late lunch. Maude was there on a date with another man.

But Gil said it was love at first sight, watching her push her straw around the milkshake glass and trying to seem moderately entertained by her date. Gil thought they were a total match the instant he laid eyes on her.

But Maude didn’t think the same. Not at the time, anyway.

Gil said it was fine because he knew. He just knew. Even if Maude thought their timing wasn’t right at the moment, he’d try again when it was right.

Maude said she found it endearing; how he’d chase, beg, concede, anything he had to do to get her to at least go out with him. He was persistent. And it paid off.

Now, all these years later, with kids and grandkids, they were celebrating a date night before they travel to their daughter’s house for Christmas tomorrow.

After penning in their order, you can’t help but smile at the couple.

“You two are really cute.” A sweet grin is shared between the two patrons before they turn back to you.

“When you know,” Gil pauses to take Maude’s hands across the table, wrinkles forming around old gold wedding bands, “you know.”

You usually don’t get along well with older people. Sometimes you didn’t know how to talk to them. You didn’t understand the references they made and felt awkward trying to navigate back to the menu selections. That, or sometimes they were just plain rude, but you suppose anyone at any age can be fucking rude.

In this part of Texas, some folks felt all too comfortable pushing religion or politics into your lap. And when they weren’t doing that, they were complaining about things that were out of your control.

That light is giving me a headache.

You don’t have any trees to park my car under.

The mashed potatoes aren’t mashed enough. Like, sorry guys, but that sounds like a problem between you, the line cooks, and your denture implementation specialist.

Then there were the more generous guests, those who tip well and sit in your section because they like your playful personality. Where talking doesn’t feel like a chore, and you’re so goddamn funny that they laugh at everything you say.

There’s this ongoing joke between you and these older gentlemen who come every Sunday morning for breakfast. It goes something like,

“Hey, doll, did you put the whiskey in the coffee like I asked ya to?”

You’d playfully gasp, widen your eyes, and look at them with your mouth agape before you lightly smacked their shoulders with your ticket pad. “I certainly did not, my manager would have a fit.” You’d tease, wink, and pour a little extra coffee to top them off as they snickered. They were just guys young at heart who enjoyed making you laugh.

Frankie would play cards with them on his break. Spin the chair around and have the back against the table, thick thighs straddling the seat as he nibbled on a toothpick. He always lost to them at poker but won at blackjack.

Unfortunately, someone really did put some sort of schnapps in the coffee. The staff’s coffee. You weren’t going to name names, but you definitely saw who did it. And you weren’t telling. Especially since you were enjoying your third cup.

Christmas music plays loudly in the back of the kitchen, the restaurant having been closed for the past hour. But for the love of God, Rudy couldn’t get you all to clean up the place and go home.

“Jingle bell, jingle bell, jingle bell rock! Jingle bells swing and jingle bells ring! Snowin' and blowin' up bushels of fun, now the jingle hop has begun!” The entire kitchen sings, all terribly off-tune, but it makes it all the funnier.

You double over in laughter as Carla, your five-foot-tall manager attempts to put a Santa hat on Frankie’s head. He simply crosses his arms and shakes his head, unwilling to bend down and let her put the stupid thing on already.

Finally, with a roll of his eyes, he kneels down and takes the red Santa hat like a crown to a king.

“You’re only fueling his ego!” You boo, Carla walking over and cheering her cup of coffee with yours.

The kitchen is noisy after hours.

All the crew has funneled to the back, sitting on countertops as Lou mops the floor and tells people to stay out of his way. Water sprays from multiple sink faucets as the dishwashers clean at a leisurely pace, too busy singing a rendition of whatever Christmas song played next off the radio.

The old dishwasher hums along as it cleans. People talk or sing over each other, and it’s just loud. You’d be overstimulated if it wasn’t for the spiked coffee in your hand.

“You put this booze in here, didn’t you?” You whisper to Carla as she circles back to your little corner of the counter, looking straight ahead as if she didn’t hear you. She’s as silent as a rock, which you can respect.

“Alright, some manager you are.”

She snickers at that, playfully slaps your thigh with the back of her hand, and watches the line cooks and busboys lazily scrub pots, pans, and plates, too busy howling out what they think are the correct lyrics to the classic Mariah Carey song playing.

“Frankie!” Carla growls, her actual manager tone coming out now. Even Rudy shudders at the lion’s roar.

Frankie looks up, wide-eyed like a kid about to get freshly yelled at. He’s got a cigarette hanging from his lips and a lighter one centimeter away, finger on the trigger ready to light it.

“Go outside and smoke that, you know I can’t come home smelling like cigarette smoke! My kids will get mad at me. Shoo! Shoo!” She ushers with her hands, Frankie smirking against the cig and holding his hands up in playful defense.

“Sorry Mama Bear, I’ll take it outside.”

Carla playfully scoffs as he ducks down to kiss her cheek, giving him a roll of her eyes in return.

Frankie’s eyes meet yours and he nudges his thumb into the pack of cigarettes, one inching out towards you.

“Come on, princess. Let’s go.”

You purse your lips to try and stop the smile, but you can’t help it. You push yourself off the counter and join him outside, the kitchen door closing behind you with a whoosh.

It’s colder outside now, and the snowflakes fall faster but still melt as soon as they hit the pavement.

You walk with Frankie to the loading dock. Tommy’s doesn’t have an actual loading dock, but it has an attached storage garage that houses old equipment. The concrete has questionable stains of varying colors and sizes. A game you and Frankie play is coming up with dramatic stories for each one.

The large maroon puddle was definitely a murder covered up by a secret crime syndicate. The dark green dribbles every few inches are from a lizard-like monster, trailing its way through the garage where its buried itself under the concrete until it’s resurrection day in one thousand years. Or so they say.

Frankie pulls a blue tarp off an old brown leather couch, both of you falling into it with a heavy sigh.

Tonight was exhausting. The holidays in general were.

“You goin’ anywhere for Christmas?” Frankie asks as you hold out your hand for the cigarette, but he lifts it to your lips instead.

A playful smirk dances on your lips as you lean in and take the cigarette obediently, both of Frankie’s hands coming up as one flicks the lighter and the other shields the snowy breeze.

The nicotine swirls down your throat and chills your chest, a nice contrast between the warmth the alcohol has spread through your tummy. Your eyes magnetize to the pretty orange blaze glittering at the end of the cigarette.

“Yeah,” you breathe out, smoke billowing through the air and then into nothingness. “I took off from Christmas to New Year’s, so I’ll be at home with family. You?”

Frankie makes a noncommittal noise, distracted by lighting his cigarette. He flicks the spark wheel multiple times, but the flame only grows smaller and smaller. To Frankie’s relief, it catches. He takes the dead lighter, damn near out of juice, and makes a long chuck to the dumpsters where it clatters deep inside. Dink-bong.

“I’ll be here- wait, until New Year’s?” Frankie asks in disappointment, head tilting affectionately like a dog’s.

You’re a bit shocked by the dramatic reaction, eyes scanning over him.

“Uh.. yeah. Why?”

He’s silent for a bit, eyes avoiding yours before he looks out beyond the freeway and into the void. You shrug it off and lift the cigarette to your lips again. If Frankie wants to say something, he will.

“It’s pretty, isn’t it?” You nod your head towards the snow and Frankie agrees as he looks up at the sky with a fond little smile.

“So, no New Year’s at Tommy’s for you this year, huh?” He circles back, and you’re all too curious.

“Why do you care so much if I’m here on New Year’s or not?” Your demeanor is playful, but he’s dancing around the subject and you’d wish he’d just come out and say it.

But he wanes on your temper and plays oblivious. “Was that Maude and Gil out there earlier?”

You roll your eyes and shuffle closer to him on the couch. Frankie does the same. “Yeah. I wish they came here more than just on Christmas Eve. They’re so refreshing. They’re older, but cool.”

Frankie nods and lets the calm settle between you both.

“Before Tommy retired and moved to Florida... Or ran and hid from his bookie due to his crippling gambling addiction, he said that he was long-time friends with Maude and Gil. They’ve been coming here for like… fifty years.”

You scoff in disbelief and glance over to him. “Who would want to come to this dump for fifty years?”

Frankie shrugs and smiles, leaning into your side as you lay your head on his shoulder. He’s warm.

“I guess it’s all about perspective. We see Tommy’s as clock in, clock out. Run around until our feet hurt and work until we’re sweating pigs. The customers, people like Maude and Gil, they see this place as where their lives began.” Frankie’s eyes look beautifully starstruck in this moment. “Where they started, and where they reminisce. Where it all began. It’s perspective, princess.”

And just like that, he crashes the moment. Again.

With a roll of your eyes, you sit up properly, shoulders shuddering inward from the cold. You shove off his hand that has somehow gone below the radar on your thigh, crossing your leg over the other and tugging down the skirt of your uniform.

“You gotta stop fucking calling me that incessant nickname, asshole”

Frankie scoffs around the exhale of his cigarette. “Why don’t you make me?”

“Oh, I could definitely make you, but where’s the fun in that, Francisco?” You smirk in his direction, but something shifts.

His lips part but he’s at a loss for words, and his eyes dance over your face like he’s trying to memorize each pretty eyelash and the slope of your cheekbones.

A weird feeling of charged energy zigzags back and forth between your bodies, stitching you closer together. Where the flirting goes a little too far and something could happen. It could keep going, like a snowball effect, both of you unwilling to stand down to the other. How far could things go? How far would you let them go?

His eyes look incredibly deep brown in the night, but they pour into you all the same. The red bandana tied around his forehead keeps his unruly dark curls out of his eyes as the wind makes the strands flutter. He’s overwhelmingly handsome. You can feel your breath change, but you don’t want him to notice how your chest falls shallow under his eyeline.

His husky voice breaks the pretty silence.

“If you’re not here for New Year’s, then how are you supposed to be my New Year’s kiss?”

An unbeatable smile breaks out across your face, feeling your stomach summersault. Oh, Frankie.

You playfully shrug as you look beyond the loading dock at the snow that amounts to nothing, still melting upon greeting the asphalt.

“Well. Sounds to me like you’re kissing the back of your hand on New Year’s. Just the same as last year. And the year before that. And the year before that.”

“I’d rather kiss your ass, princess.”

“Oh, I bet you would.” You both snicker and shake your heads. He’s still staring all too longingly.

“Come on.” He speaks softer now. His head tilts so it’s closer to your level. “Lemme kiss you.” His head is hanging to the side, and he speaks with need. His tongue lines his lips and your breath staggers again.

Your and Frankie’s cigarettes burn with abandonment, dangling between fingers settled in your respective laps.

Why can’t a fire break out in the kitchen right now? It would be convenient. Anything to get Frankie from getting too close. Not that you wouldn’t mind kissing him, you just fear that you’d like it a little too much. And he would like it too. What if things changed?

All you can think to do is try to lighten the mood with a little teasing because it feels all too serious right now.

“You don’t wanna kiss me.”

Frankie scoffs and suckles on his cigarette again like it’s the most unbelievable thing he’s ever heard. “I would, I really would.”

Fuck, it’s not working. “What if it’s weird? We work together.”

“It won’t be.”

“How do you know?” You tease.

“I just know.”

“Okay, but how do you know.” Frankie shrugs nonchalantly like it’s no big deal. “When you know, you know.”

Surprise lines around your wide eyes, recognizing the all too familiar sentiment shared by Maude and Gil. The sentence you didn’t realize had so much importance to you until Frankie uttered the same words.

“I- what did you say?” You ask, surely he didn’t just share the same expression. Or spare the same meaning.

A cocky smirk tilts the right side of his mouth upwards. “When you know, you know.” He repeats unphased, eyes twinkling all too sweetly as he looks at you like you’re a wonder.

It’s just one kiss. Nothing else will happen. You wouldn’t let it.

Before you can overthink any further, before you can decline, his large palm casts itself over your cheek, thumb skimming across the silky flesh. Warmth floods your body, and it feels like time has frozen. The snow falls silently around you both, a soft whisper of the wind hissing through the air.

“This alright?” He whispers. You feel so caught off guard, unable to respond with words, just a lousy excuse of a nod.

The heel of his palm guides your jawline upward, lips mutually parting as you take each other in. Anticipation fills the air, fuels the rapid beat slamming around in your chest and nudging itself up in your throat.

Your lips meet, warm and plush. You’re sure he’s not this gentle all the time, but he is in this moment. It’s tender and delicate, slowly taking you all in as if this is the last time he’ll ever get this chance. It probably will be. The bite of each other’s cigarettes tangle in your mouths.

It’s unclear who deepens the kiss first, but there’s more of a desperation to this part. Both of his palms are on your cheeks now, bodies inching closer as your smaller palms fist lightly at the neck of his dingy white tee. You’re keeping him close, fuck, it’s so undeniable.

The intensity that follows highlights a level of emotion you had far long ago locked away. Shoved into a locked crate and stored in secret under your bed. You didn’t like those feelings, they were cute looking from afar, but up close, they were monstrous. But you can’t deny you enjoy the movement of his lips against yours, both of you melting into a sweet rhythm that’s lined with desire.

His tongue explores your mouth. Your fingers dance up the dip of his neck and sink into the warm flesh. He must like the feeling of your skin on his because he lets out a low hum of appreciation. The charged energy you felt before was now flooded, running on all cylinders to keep up with the feelings you and Frankie were exploring for the first time.

It’s heated and flickers like his dead lighter. The bond grows deeper at this newfound connection, much different than a simple peck on the lips for a New Year’s kiss.

It feels like it lasts forever but it’s gone so soon. You find yourself pulling away first, despite it taking all of you to do so. Frankie’s head naturally follows your own, wanting more, drunk off the taste. His lips brush yours again as you laugh.

Both of you grin before you can stop yourselves.

“Shit,” he mutters, pulling away finally as warmth kisses the apples of his cheeks. His thumb lines his lower lip like he wants to remember the electricity and the pattern of your kiss. “Sorry.”

“No, it’s- fine.” You’re all flustered, both of you shifting farther away on the couch.

“I got carried away,”

“Yeah. You did.” Lie.

“I liked it.”

“I know you did, Francisco.” The tight-lipped grin on your lips won’t disappear. But you could.

Everything that follows is muddled sentences and interjections on both your parts. You start.

“I’m gonna head back inside. Carla probably needs some help-”

“Yeah-”

“Are you-”

“Yeah, I’ll stay out here for a few more.”

“Okay.”

You’re both nodding and you’re scrabbling for balance as your feet pace on shaky ground. You nudge your jacket tighter around your body as you drop the cigarette and smother it with the toe of your shoe.

A shaky breath leaves you as you walk away and smooth out your uniform, thankful to have your back to him as you walk off and return to the kitchen’s back door. Or else he might see you smiling sheepishly.

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niallhorxns · 3 months

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Niall Horan x Reader: Worth Fighting For

Prompt: The distance while he's on tour is difficult, you and Niall try to make it work.

Word count: 3.2k

Warnings: none

A/N: Hi all!! So excited to be writing again. Please enjoy this slightly angsty, short fic. And please feel free to send any / all Niall requests my way :)

Niall’s contact photo pops up on your phone. The ringer interrupts the song you were playing through your car speakers, but before you even slide to answer, you already know the sound of his voice is going to be way better than whatever poppy tune had been on.

“Hey babe,” you smile widely, trying to balance your phone between your ear and shoulder as you drive home from work. The fact that you would be seeing Niall tonight has been the only thing keeping you smiling throughout the day. Not even the heavy traffic can interfere with your good mood.

Since you’ve been together, you’ve dealt with Niall spending long hours at the studio– and occasionally taking long weekend trips to Ireland or New York. But this tour was so much more difficult than any of that.

When Niall left for his latest tour, you both were dedicated to making things work. You planned FaceTimes and phone calls and flew in to see him whenever you could. However, the last few months had been harder than you could have ever anticipated, and the distance had definitely taken a toll on your relationship.

But right now, none of that mattered, because Niall would be home tonight.

“Hey there,” Niall says back. You can hear chatter in the background and briefly wonder if he’s landed yet.

“Are you almost home?” You ask, hopeful.

There’s a brief pause, then Niall sighs. “That’s actually what I was calling about—“

“Oh no,” you interrupt. “Was the flight delayed?”

“No…” he clears his throat, “I’m actually still in New York.”

The moment he says the words, your coffee canister slips from your hands, spilling over your lap and car. The heat immediately seeps through your skirt. You’re lucky you don’t crash as you try to wipe it up with the napkins stuffed in your cup holder.

“Shit,” you gasp, your thighs burning from the hot beverage. “Shit, shit, shit—“

“Baby?” You hear his worried voice through the line.

You flip your blinker on and pull over on the side of the road. You wipe up the remainder of the coffee, ignoring Niall asking if everything was okay on the other end of the line.

Once your legs no longer feel like they’re on fire, you pick your phone back up, and already on the verge of tears resume your conversation.

“Are you serious?” You ask. “I thought you had three nights off.”

“I know– I do, but we got the opportunity to play on Fallon, my agent booked it–“

You can tell he’s trying to dodge a fight, which you’ve been doing a lot of lately. Last week you were mad when he canceled your FaceTime date to go out with bandmates instead. The week before that, he was frustrated that you declined his offer to fly you out to Denver with less than a day's notice.

Seeing each other today has been what you were both holding onto. Or at least that’s what you thought.

“Why do you have to play Fallon, Niall? It’s not like you’re desperate to grow your image–”

“I know, but it’s a good opportunity to expand to other listeners–”

You sigh, and without raising your voice say, “I just… We’ve had these dinner plans for so long— I mean my parents have been talking about this for weeks.“

“I know, I know, I know—“ he says frantically, “I’m so sorry, believe me, I’d much rather be there than here… this place is nuts.”

You pinch the bridge of your nose, and close your eyes, listening to the sound of traffic rushing by your parked vehicle.

“Okay,” you sigh, feeling so defeated and drained all of a sudden. “Okay, well, we’ll miss you.”

“I know, tell everyone I say I’m sorry for not being there.”

“Yeah, alright,” you agree.

“So we’ll just talk later then?” He asks, the noise in the background getting louder.

“Okay,” you say before hanging up.

You can’t help but notice that the “I love you’s” were skipped.

You drive the rest of the way home with your fingers tightly clutching the steering wheel. Your knuckles are white by the time you pull into the driveway. You drag your bag and coffee-stained self into the house to change and get ready for dinner with your family.

You try convincing yourself that the night will be fun, regardless of the fact that Niall bailed. But the moment you sit around the table at the restaurant and count that you are in fact the ninth wheel of the family, you know things are doomed. Plus you can’t shake the achy feeling inside your chest that makes you fear for your relationship with Niall. You’d been holding onto this weekend together with everything you had. It’s kept you grounded, and reminded you that this distance between you and Niall won’t last forever– that this tour will eventually end.

Except now, you have nothing to hold on to.

“Where’s Niall?” Your mother immediately asked. Of course she does– because your family loves Niall.

Without even thinking, you lie, “His flight got delayed. Bad weather. Tornadoes, I think—“ you’re not sure why you don’t tell the truth. Denial, maybe. Embarrassment that his job would always come before you.

“Bad weather?” Your brother asks, “Where is he?”

“New York,“ you say quickly.

Your brother pulls out his phone. After a moment his brows furrow. “Huh, weird. The weather app says it’s sunny and clear there.”

Instantly you feel your face turning red. “Yeah… weird,” you say.

Your brother opens his mouth– probably to ask more questions, but his girlfriend elbows him, indicating for him to shut his mouth. You give her a soft smile in appreciation.

You stay quiet for the majority of the meal, and you don’t feel much like eating. You try to listen to your dad talk about golf, but all you can focus on is how Niall might chime into the conversation. You try to listen to your older brother when he complains about his meal, but all you can imagine is how Niall would nudge your leg and offer you a sly smile, knowing how much that annoyed you.

You can’t be present because all you can do is think about how much you miss him– you miss his laugh, and the smell of his aftershave. You miss how warm hands always are, and how they’re always touching you– every chance he can get. You miss the way he can always lighten the mood, and how safe you feel just knowing he’s around. You miss him with everything inside of you– and his absence tonight only makes you miss him more.

All-in-all, you’re relieved when everyone is ready to head home.

“Hey,” your brother’s girlfriend catches up to you before you can head to your car.

“Hi,” you smile.

“Is everything okay? I just— I wanted to make sure, because you do know New York doesn’t really have tornados, right?”

You nod and let out a shaky laugh. “Yeah, I know. And Niall’s flight never got delayed,” you take a deep breath, “I guess that just sounded better than the fact that he didn’t even get on his flight. Got caught up at work,” you explain.

She sighs empathetically. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, I just—“ you feel the tears starting to fill your eyes and you wipe them away, embarrassed. “I don’t know what to do.”

“Oh no,” she says empathetically.

“The distance is just, really, really hard. Way harder than I ever thought—“ Even you can tell how choked up your voice sounds. “And I just don’t see it ending anytime soon. I mean, sure, this tour will end. But he loves his job, so I know there will just be another one. And another. And can’t ask him to give that up. But I can’t compete with it. I just don’t know if I can do it—”

“Maybe you should talk to him about this,” she suggests, as she soothingly rubs your shoulder. “Tell him how much it’s bothering you. Be honest.”

You nod. “Yeah you’re probably right.” You wipe your runny nose on your sleeve.

“Let us know if you need anything, okay?”

You nod, thanking her and hugging her goodbye. She’s right. You do need to talk to Niall. But that’s a conversation you wish you could just keep on the back burner, ignoring until everything ignited. You dreaded it the whole way home.

When you did finally arrive home, you puttered around the house– put the dishes away, washed your face, got into your pajamas, all as an effort to stall. Finally, you curled up on the couch. With no more excuses to delay the inevitable, you pulled out your phone and clicked on Niall’s contact. You hated this– everything about it. You hated that you hated it– hated that you were dreading calling your favorite person in the entire world… the only person who made you feel whole.

The phone rang three times before Niall answered. “Hey baby,” he said cheerfully. “How’re you?”

“Okay,” you said quietly. “How was Fallon?”

“Not bad– that guy from the TV show you like… the one on HBO? God, I can’t remember the name of it now. But he was there. Made me think of you. The crowd was fun– a few people actually knew the words. How was dinner?” He asks.

“It was fine—“ you lie, not really wanting to fake small talk. “Everyone missed you.”

“Yeah, I wish I could’ve been there.”

You clear your throat as you anxiously pick at the skin around your thumb.

“Listen, Niall. We need to talk—“

“Babe,” he protests, like he knows where this is going. “I already apologized for not being there— I wanted to, but I couldn’t say no after they booked the gig–”

You don’t want another fight. You’re too tired, too drained, too sad to fight. You love Niall– so much so that you wanted him around all the time– needed him. And you know Niall loves you too. But Niall also loves music, and touring. One was always going to interfere with the other, and there was absolutely nothing you could do about it. And suddenly, the realization that this just isn’t going to work hits you like a ton of bricks.

“I know…” you say as non-confrontational as possible, “I know it’s your job, I understand that, but I— I need you here, Niall. And maybe that’s selfish of me, or whatever, but it’s true. I need you here. And I don’t know if I can do this distance thing, I thought I could, but I don’t think I can. It’s… Honestly, it’s killing me.”

“What do you mean you can’t do it?” Niall asks. “I mean, what do you want me to do? Quit? Do you want me to quit the tour?”

You squeeze your eyes shut in anticipation of what’s about to happen.

“No, I don’t want that,” you say, your voice becoming thick with tears. You could never take performing away from Niall– you wouldn’t be the thing that came between him and his passion. “I hate that this is through the phone, but I don’t think we should do this anymore. I don’t think I can do this anymore.”

A long, heavy silence settles over the air. It sends waves of blood pumping to your ears. It’s deafening.

You begin wondering if you should provide more of an explanation, but then Niall speaks.

“Baby—“ he pleads, his voice suddenly full of desperation. “Please, I know you’re mad about tonight but I can fix this—“

“I’m not mad,” you tell him honestly, pushing the emotion in your voice down and trying to muscle through. “I understand that you couldn’t say no. I know you wanted to be here but couldn’t. But I come second to your job, Niall. And I always will. And that’s not your fault. But it’s not my fault either. And I– I just think that I need more than that.”

He’s stammering incoherently on the other end, and you imagine what his face looks like right now. Is he crying? Are his eyebrows all scrunched up?

He tries protesting again, but you can’t think about anything other than getting off the phone.

“I’m really sorry this isn’t in person, you deserve that. But I just can’t keep doing this,” you explain. “When you’re back in LA, shoot me a text and I can get your stuff together.”

“Baby–” he pleads.

But you cut him off. “Goodbye,” you whisper, hitting the end button before he can convince you to change your mind. As soon as the line goes dead, you break out into uncontrollable sobs. The weight on your shoulders that you thought would be lifted only felt heavier as you let yourself fall back against the cushions of the couch you bought together.

Your chest aches. Desperately, you clutch your arm around yourself, trying to hold everything together.

It hurts like fucking hell.

It’s the kind of pain you know will leave lasting scars– the kind you know you’ll carry with you forever. And the only person you’d ever want to call to help you through it is the one you just broke up with.

Broke up.

You and Niall broke up.

You cry harder.

You cry and cry and cry– until there’s nothing left inside of you, until you’re pretty sure if you cried anymore, you’d need an IV to replace all the fluids. You cry until finally, you drift off into an uneasy sleep, curled up on the couch with Netflix playing on the TV, the screen lighting up the otherwise dark living room.

The clock below the TV reads 7 am when you wake to the sound of the front door opening.

Your first instinct is to scream, but you catch a glimpse of the familiar, dark haired man crossing the room before that can happen.

“Niall?” You say groggily, rubbing your tired eyes. “What are you doing?” You feel like you might still be dreaming.

“I know you probably don’t want me here,” he says, he’s out of breath, panting, even– like he ran across the country overnight to be here. That’s when it hits you that Niall is really here– not across the country in New York, but standing in your shared living room in LA.

“Just hear me out—” He begs. When you don’t protest, he continues. “I love my job,” he states. “Playing music has always been my dream, and then that dream came true. I love touring– I love performing.I love being able travel around so much—“

You let your eyes wander to the floor, wondering where this all is going.

“But none of that compares to how much I love you,” he says, his shoulders finally deflating. “And I’ll quit in a heartbeat if that’s what it takes. Please, please don’t be mad– I’ll do whatever it takes to make this work, I swear.”

It had been so long since Niall had told you he loved you, that you feared it might no longer be true. But as soon as he says the words with such honesty and passion, your face scrunches up and the tears start to fall, because you immediately believe him. For a moment, you forget that you’d practically broken up with him over the phone.

All you care about is that he’s here. Niall is here, standing in front of you in real life for the first time in so long. As soon as he sees your face crumple, he’s crossing the room in two quick strides. Before you can protest, he’s kneeling in front of you on the couch.

Your knees– you think. But then one of Niall’s hands is cradling your cheek softly while the other rests on your thigh, and all you can think about is how grateful you are that he’s home.

“I’m not mad, I just… I– I miss you–” you sob before leaning forward, arms winding around his neck while you crash into him. “I miss you so much, all the time.”

His arms wind around you tightly. He smells so familiar, and when he tightens his grip around you, you immediately feel safe and secure and whole again– the way only Niall can make you feel.

You’re not sure how long you stay like that. But you’re afraid that the minute you let go, things will fall apart again.

“I miss you too,” he whispers, hand coming up to stroke through your hair. “God, I missed you so much.”

You lean into his touch, try to memorize the feel of it. Then, you sigh into his neck. “I could never ask you to quit your job. You love your job more than anything. You’d be so unhappy and I’d hate myself for making you unhappy.”

Niall pulls you away from himself– holding you out in front of him. “You come before my job, okay? It’s not even close. If I quit music, I’d miss it. Of course I would. But I can write songs here– play my guitar here. Eventually, it’d feel okay. But if I lost you–” Niall shakes his head, like the thought alone is too unbearable. “I don’t know if I’d ever be able to be happy again. You come first, okay? Always.”

You give Niall the best attempt at a smile that you can come up with, enough to show him that you appreciate his gesture. It’s nice actually hearing how much Niall cares for you. He smiles back, it’s weak and doesn’t reach his eyes, but it’s a smile all the same. And it’s Niall’s.

But then it’s gone as quickly as it appeared, replaced by a slight frown before he says, “What if you came with me?”

Taken aback, you immediately shake your head. “What? On tour?”

He nods, like it’s the simplest thing in the world. “Yeah, why not?”

You open your mouth, presumably to list the reasons why that would be such a bad idea. But your mind is blank.

“You can bring your laptop– work from the bus, or hotel or whatever. We could travel around, see things. Just be together.”

You narrow your eyes at him. “You’d get sick of me–”

“Are you kidding? I’m sick of being away from you.”

“Niall– there’s no way. I have work– what about the apartment?”

“It’s an apartment, not a dog. It doesn’t need food or water. Plus, I won’t be touring all the time. Just for a few more months. We’d get through it, then figure out what to do next. But we’d be together.”

The more he talked, the more you realize that maybe it isn’t such a bad idea. Like he said, it’s only a few months. Maybe it really could work.

And in that moment, on top of admiration and love and endearment, you feel hopeful– hopeful for the first time in a long time. Because even though things between you and Niall are far from perfect, you love him and he loves you. And that’s worth fighting for.

#niall horan #niall horan fanfiction #niall horan fanfic #niall horan imagine #niall horan angst #niall horan fic #niall horan x reader angst #niall horan x reader #niall horan x reader fanfic #niall horan x reader imagine #niall horan x reader fic #niall horan x reader fanfics #niall horan x you

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zepskies · 7 months

Text

Take Me Home - Part 1

Pairing: Beau Arlen x F. Reader

Summary: You are another lost soul at Sunny Day Excursions. You’re aiming to settle in Helena, Montana, where Beau Arlen is the new sheriff in town. But you’ve both got a past you’re running from.

AN: Welcome to my first ever Big Sky series! I’ve been wanting to get to this for a while now. I’m so glad I finally get to start sharing this with you! I truly hope you enjoy the ride. (Note: This is set towards the beginning of season 3.)

Song Inspo: “Fly Away” by John Denver. And remember, you can listen to the full Take Me Home Playlist ⬅️ here.

Word Count: 4,400

Tags/Warnings: A bit of angst, a bit of setup, “Glamper Girl,” and a side helping of cops enjoying baked goods…

❤️ Series Masterlist

Part 1: All of Her Days

“This really feels like cheating,” you mused.

Yet again, you surveyed the sheer size and luxury of this tent you were supposed to be “camping” in.

Between the giant king-sized bed with crème and burgundy comforters, a two-seater dining table, a dresser (with a vanity), and even a small bookshelf, it looked like the Taj Mahal of glamping.

“Can’t you just enjoy it?” your best friend replied, poking a teasing finger into your side. She smirked when you flinched and gave her some playful side-eye. “My parents are the ones footing the bill, anyway.”

“Of which, I intend to pay them back for my half,” you said. Mary just rolled her eyes and waved you off. Her parents’ money was something she’d never had a problem spending.

“Come on, they’re getting ready to go on the hike without us,” she said, tossing her little purse over her shoulder. You were a bit more practical with your backpack, filled with a bottle of water, a couple snacks, bug spray, and your sketch pad.

Mary bumped your shoulder with hers as you two walked out of the tent, and you gave her a smile. You were glad she insisted on this little week-long excursion. It gave you exactly five more days to enjoy the fresh air of no responsibilities, before you returned to reality.

“So where are you guys from?” you asked a couple of walking companions on the early-morning hike.

The woods of Helena, Montana were vast and deep, and you found them a bit intimidating. You were a city girl, through and through, but you were learning to appreciate the mountains and the steep trails flanked by dense trees. You were also grateful that you weren’t alone.

Emily seemed to be a nice girl around sixteen, while her stepfather Avery was a lightly graying man in his 40s. You pegged his accent as English, the “casual posh” kind. On a scale from Dame Maggie Smith to Dick Van Dyke's attempt at cockney, you’d put Avery on a Benedict Cumberbatch level.

“Well, I met her mother in Houston,” Avery replied, nodding at the girl beside you. “She and Emily joined me here in Helena after we were married this past spring.”

Emily confirmed with a nod. “Yep, starting school here in a few months.”

At that, you could smile. “Me too, actually.”

Emily gave you a confused look while she fiddled with an app on her phone.

“What? You’re still in school?” she asked.

“No,” you laughed. “I’m—”

“She’s a college professor,” Mary tacked on. “AKA: a giant nerd.”

Emily tried not to smile at your expense. You just shook your head at your friend.

“Thanks,” you said wryly, despite your amusement. “We can’t all be personal trainers. One can only take so much Spandex.”

Mary rolled her eyes and prepared to fire back a retort, but your attention shifted back to Emily, who seemed to be debating whether to press a red button on her phone. You thought it looked like a voice recording app.

You followed her line of vision and saw Paige and Luke up ahead—a young “happy couple” here at Sunny Day Excursions. They were whisper-yelling at each other, sniping something about Luke’s birthday. Apparently, he had a problem with getting another year older.

Don’t we all, you thought, with no small amount of sarcasm. The guy had been a sour apple since the start of this trip, and to be honest, he was starting to get on your damn nerves.

“This is like, prime time stuff for my podcast,” Emily whispered.

You looked over at her. “Oh yeah? What’s your podcast about?”

“Relationships, lies, that sort of thing,” she replied.

You almost grimaced. Good luck finding willing subjects for that one.

Mary snickered on your other side. She leaned close to your ear so only you would hear.

“God, Paige’s voice is so effing annoying. Like a chipmunk on helium,” she said. “I feel sorry for him.”

You shot her a dry look. “He’s the one asking for it, if you ask me. But they’ve been going at it the whole time. Makes me feel sorry for both of them.”

You shook your head and kept walking on the trail. Mary sobered as she stared back at you. She was reminded of why you two were really here, and what you’d been through this past year…

What you all had been through.

You and Mary fell behind Avery and Emily on the trail, giving Mary the opportunity to touch your arm and stop you in the middle of the trail.

“Do you really plan to stay here?” she asked. “In dusty-ass Montana? With the snakes and the bears and the old hicks?”

“Well, I got the key to my apartment before we got here,” you said. And she knew that. “My aunt is letting me crash with her until the rest of my things ship over in a couple of weeks, and I start a new job in the fall. So yeah, I’m staying.”

Mary’s lips pursed. She gave you a long look, but you held your ground. You even popped your Airpods in for good measure. You were done with this conversation.

She huffed and kept walking.

You watched your friend go in annoyance. You knew she would try to talk you out of your decision at some point on this trip, but you hadn’t expected it to be so soon.

Heaving a sigh, you looked up at the clear sky above you, filtered through the tall trees. You took a moment to collect yourself in this great big no man’s land, where you could finally let yourself slow down for a minute, and breathe.

You raised the volume in your Airpods when a particular song came through.

“All of her days have gone soft and cloudy. All of her dreams have gone dry,” crooned the soft melody. You nodded to the rhythm of the mellow notes, but all the while, you tried to blink through the sting of tears.

“All of her nights have gone sad and shady. She's getting ready to fly…”

You rubbed your left hand, where you still had the tan line of the ring you used to wear.

“It’s really okay, sweetie,” Mary tried to console you, rubbing her hand between your shoulders.

After the hike, you all had returned to camp and sat down to brunch. It was an amazing spread, with waffles and muffins and Danishes, eggs done three different ways, toast with jam, assorted sandwiches, coffee and orange juice (and sparkling wine for the adults).

But even with a huge plate of appetizing food in front of you, you were sulking a bit. You had your face covered by your hands as you rested your elbows on the table.

“One of my only goals on this trip was to ride a damn horse, and I couldn’t even do that,” you said.

Sunny Barnes and her husband Buck were the heads and hosts of this whole trip. And after the hike, their son, Cormack, had tried to help you onto the nice chestnut mare the handler had brought out of the stable for you. But your entire body had locked up in fear at the prospect of being vaulted onto the horse.

In fairness, she was huge. And you were both afraid of heights, and animals that could buck you off its back and trample you.

You hadn’t been able to speak. You just shook your head vigorously every time Cormack asked you if you were okay.

So he’d graciously patted your back and gave the mare to Emily instead.

“I’ve never been able to ride a horse either,” Avery offered in commiseration. You lowered your hands and gave him a wan smile.

Emily was carving an apple with an impressive (and somewhat scary) looking pocketknife. She shrugged.

“It’s not so hard,” she said. But, perhaps realizing how she sounded, she looked up and gave you an apologetic look. “Sorry. I mean, I’m sure you’ll get it! It’s hard in the beginning, but once you get used to it, it’s like riding a bike.”

Right. A bike with hooves, you thought, ripping a piece of bread from your egg and cheese sandwich.

Mary bumped your shoulder with a teasing smile. “You just got showed up by a high schooler. Again.”

You pursed your lips in amusement. You tossed the piece of bread. It hit her dead between the eyes. You giggled at the way she jumped with a start.

“Real mature,” she shot back.

“Yeah,” you replied, taking a giant bite of your sandwich for good measure. “I learned from you.”

Even Emily snickered, making Mary roll her eyes in amusement.

Shortly after, Avery and his stepdaughter were finished with brunch and got up to get back to their tents.

You glanced over and noticed that Emily had left her knife on the table, now closed in its sheath.

Sheriff Beau Arlen may have still been relatively new in town, but he considered himself a consummate professional.

He’d agreed to accompany Cassie, the local private investigator (and his friend), up to this mountain pass to look for a missing backpacker. Questioning Buck and Sunny Barnes and their crew was just good old-fashioned, thorough police work.

But if it also gave Beau a chance to check on his daughter up here “glamping” with her half-baked stepfather, then he couldn’t pass up on that opportunity, now could he?

After talking to Buck and Sunny, who hadn’t seen hide or hair of the backpacker, Beau let Cassie take care of questioning Cormack Barnes while Beau found his daughter outside her tent. After giving her a big hug and inspecting her “tent” (Really? he thought. Looks more like a hotel room than a tent.), he asked her how her trip was going so far.

“Good, Dad. But you really didn’t have to come all the way out here just to check up on me,” Emily said. She was amused, but no longer surprised to see him.

“No, no, no. I didn’t, okay?” Beau refuted. Though at the look on her face, he knew he wasn’t fooling her. She was a sharp kid. “All right, maybe not the only reason. We had to talk to Sunny about a missing backpacker. It’s something Cassie’s investigating.”

Emily’s amusement faded into surprise, and then concern.

“Wait, what?” she said.

“Oh, I’m sure it’s nothing. Just, you know…parents probably didn’t get the memo that ‘off-the-grid’ was part of the deal,” he said, giving her a meaningful raise of his brows. Maybe his daughter didn’t have to screen so many of his calls while she was on this trip.

“Overprotective parents, huh?” Emily dryly remarked.

“The worst,” Beau agreed, shaking his head.

But he smiled. Just seeing her made his whole week better…and it alleviated some of the hurt in his heart. Not getting to be with her on a trip like this stung. And knowing Avery was the one who got to be there for her grated on him.

Beau was already missing too much of his daughter’s life, and he still wasn’t too sure on how to deal with that.

Speak of the devil, he thought. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Avery approaching. Beau forced himself to look as close to pleasant as he could get around his ex-wife’s husband.

While Mary went back to the tent to freshen up, you grabbed Emily’s pocketknife and went to look for her so you could return it. It had a wood-carved hilt and had her initials, E. A., engraved on the side. The knife looked special, not the kind of thing you wanted to lose.

You found her outside her tent with her stepfather, and a man you didn’t know. He had broad shoulders and short brown hair that swept above his brow. When he turned to look at you, the first thing you noticed was the cut of his bearded chin, and then the green of his eyes.

You didn’t realize it, but your insides stilled, just for a moment. Then you remembered to smile.

Avery looked a bit tense, as did the newcomer. You sensed you were interrupting a tete-a-tete.

“Uh, hi. I’m sorry,” you said, and extended the sheathed knife toward Emily. “Just wanted to get this back to you. You left it at the table.”

“Oh! Thanks,” Emily said gratefully.

“Well, hi there,” said the new guy. He was tall, you noted, wearing a beige jacket over a buttoned-down shirt, some jeans, and boots. It was a casual look, but all worked very well for him…in a rugged cowboy sense.

“This is my dad,” Emily supplied.

“Sheriff Beau Arlen, ma’am,” he said, giving you a more friendly smile that you matched in kind when you shook his hand. You also gave him your name to go along with it.

“You here for a little belated vacation, Sheriff?” you added.

“No. Matter of fact, I’m here on police business,” he replied. That concerned you, but he was quick to wave a dismissive hand. “Everything’s okay here. Just checking on a missing backpacker. But it looks like we’ll have to continue our search for him elsewhere.”

You hummed at that in concern. “Well, I hope you find him.”

“I do too,” he agreed with a nod.

Then, Emily took the slight pause in the conversation as her chance to escape.

“Okay, Dad, well, we’re gonna go hike down to the lake,” she said, gesturing at Avery. “But as you can see, I’m fine. We’re fine.”

Beau’s smile became a bit tight, but he nodded in understanding. He gave her a big hug, and you could see he was reluctant to let her go. Avery stood behind them. He held tension in his shoulders. You felt a bit awkward yourself, being in the midst of what was clearly an uneasy family dynamic.

Beau released his daughter. After she took off with Avery following close behind, Beau turned to you next. You tried not to blush at the sight of his handsome face.

“Sorry, again,” you said, raising a placating hand. “I didn’t mean to intrude.”

His lips twitched upward, and he shook his head. “You’re fine. Though you don’t look like a local. You from outta town?”

I could say the same thing about you, cowboy, you thought. There was a slight southern drawl in his voice that sounded like Alabama. Maybe Texas?

“You got me,” you nodded. “I’m from Chicago originally, but…I’ve actually just moved here to Helena.”

“Ahh, a city girl,” he remarked. “Small world. I just got here a few months ago myself. Houston, Texas.”

Your smile brightened. Right on the money.

“Yeah, I figured,” you couldn’t help teasing him a little. His grin kicked up in the corner.

“How’re the mountains and fresh air treating you then?” he asked. “Better than that blanket a’ smog in Chicago.”

“We do not have smog…or, well, not that much,” you laughed, “but yes, I’m actually really liking it here so far. I mean, I just got here about a week ago. I’m still learning. Though Emily actually tried to help me ride a horse today.”

“Yeah?” His brows raised. “How’d that go?”

You had to laugh. A kind of self-deprecating laugh that had you half-covering your face to stem off your blush.

“Not well,” you admitted.

Beau ducked his head with a smile. He met your eyes in amusement, but not without kindness.

“Well, here’s a tip for ya,” he said. He planted his feet, held his hands up into lightly clenched fists. “The trick is in the legs. Grip tight, but not too tight. He’ll think you’re rarin’ to go.”

You blinked a bit wider. Was that just honest advice…or was he sort of flirting with you?

It made you blush in earnest.

“Ah. Good to know,” you said with a laugh. He treated you with a tip of his imaginary hat.

“Hey,” someone called out.

Both of your heads turned to a tall black woman with long curly hair. She gave you a polite smile before she nodded up at Beau.

“You ready to go?” she asked.

“Ah, yep,” Beau nodded. He gave you an apologetic look. “Sorry, gotta get back to the station.”

“Oh, of course,” you said. But you held up a finger. “Wait, just a sec.”

You hastened back over to the table of confections from brunch and offered them a chocolate chip muffin each for the road. Cassie politely declined, but Beau gladly took his.

“Although, are you trying to stereotype me or somethin’?” he teased.

Your brows furrowed in confusion, but after a moment, it hit you. You’d just given a cop a baked good.

“At least it wasn’t a donut,” you quipped, despite your embarrassment. Beau still looked bemused, but he let you off the hook.

“That’s okay. I’ve never been known to turn down free food,” he assured.

“He really doesn’t,” Cassie confirmed. You noticed how she was waiting, arms crossed.

“Well, there you go! Sorry for keeping you,” you said.

“Not at all, darlin’,” said Beau. His smile had a charming gleam. “Nice to meet you.”

You quirked a smile back. “Wow, you are from Texas.”

You didn’t think you’d ever been called darlin’ in your life.

Beau’s good humor shifted into slight embarrassment himself.

“Sorry. I’ve been told to stop doing that,” he said. When he chuckled, you did along with him. You weren’t offended by it, just surprised by the old-fashioned endearment.

“It’s okay,” you said. “Nice to meet you too, Sheriff.”

You raised a hand in goodbye, and Beau returned it, watching you go. Meanwhile, Cassie watched him with a small smirk. He stepped down from the short platform in front of Emily’s tent to meet her.

“Were you just checking out Glamper Girl? In front of your daughter, no less,” Cassie remarked.

Beau shot her a look of denial. “I did no such thing. I’m a professional. And a gentleman, mind you.”

Cassie rose a brow at him. It stirred up a bit of his defensiveness.

“But, I’ll have you know that Em had already moved on when I had a friendly conversation with the glamper,” he said.

Cassie rolled her eyes. Right.

That afternoon, you decided to bring your sketchpad and your modest collection of paints to the lake. You sat on the bank and tried to paint, while Mary joined the others in swimming.

“That looks nice,” Emily’s voice startled you from behind.

You twisted to look at her, and she gave you an apologetic look. She was dressed to go for a swim in a one-piece bathing suit and some shorts. She seemed more of a conservative dresser than typical high school girls her age. Maybe that had something to do with a policeman being her father, or maybe that was just her personality.

“Sorry,” she said, raising her hands.

“It’s okay.” You waved it off and gestured for her to sit beside you if she wanted. She did so, admiring your work over your shoulder. You felt a little embarrassed by it, but you didn’t mind her watching you try to paint ripples of light on the water.

“Are you an artist?” she asked.

You shot her a smile. “You’re very sweet, but no. I just started this year.”

You’d just Googled some therapeutic techniques instead of, you know, going to therapy. You just knew that if you did, your aunt would probably tell your parents, who would never let you hear the end of it. Specifically, why it was a waste of time. Your father especially would have something to say.

But one of the sources you found suggested trying out some creative outlets to calm the mind and think productively, but not create more stress for yourself. You’d tried a few different things, but landed on painting. It was working for you so far, even if you didn’t think you were that good.

“How do you like Montana so far?” you asked your companion. “Your dad told me you guys just moved here too, a few months ago.”

“Yeah, when my mom got remarried, my dad moved to stay close to me,” Emily explained.

Your brows raised. Your painting hand paused with the brush near the page.

“Well, that’s a good father,” you said. You smiled at the thought of Beau Arlen. The way he hugged his daughter before, like she was his entire world, and the fact that he’d moved entire states just to stay with her, told you a great deal about the town’s new sheriff.

Emily nodded, but her lips were pressed. “He’s a bit overprotective.”

“Well, he is a cop,” You said, smiling. “I assume that’s just part of the package.”

“I get that,” she said. “It’s just…a bit much sometimes.”

You gave her a sympathetic look. “I understand. My dad can be like that too. He’s got his soft moments, but he can be a real tough nut too… He’s a retired fireman.”

“Wow, that’s cool,” Emily said. She looked impressed. “Did you ever want to be a firefighter?”

You chuckled. “No, and he never wanted me to. It just wasn’t my beat, anyway.”

In the many years before your father had risen in the ranks to firehouse chief, your mother had often worried about him when he was on shift. Being a firefighter in inner-city Chicago had brought some hard and dangerous calls.

But you had always been more bookish, and both your parents were grateful for that.

You sighed. Your paintbrush made a stroke of deep green on the page, creating darker shades in the bottom of the lake.

“I did end up dating one though. Almost married him too,” you muttered, before you could stop yourself. You forgot you were talking to an insatiably curious girl.

“Really? What happened?” she asked. You looked over at her, and she was staring at you with her full attention. You remembered then that her podcast was supposed to be about relationships, but you had no desire to be a subject.

“It didn’t work out,” you said at last, and with difficulty.

“Why?” Emily asked.

Your internal struggle kept you quiet. It gave time for Emily to really see the withdrawn, almost pained look on your face, the slight hunch of your shoulders. She deflated guiltily.

“Uh, sorry,” she said.

You offered a small smile. “It’s okay, honey.”

“I’ll uh, just let you get back to painting,” she said. You waved her goodbye after she got up and left, giving you one last look before she joined her stepfather in the lake.

You let out a deep breath. The teen was tenacious, and naturally curious. That in itself wasn’t such a bad thing. But as you watched her splash at Avery, laughing that weightless laugh that kids got to have, you realized how much you missed being that young and free in your heart.

Again, out of habit, you set down your brush and rubbed at your empty left ring finger.

Mary finally joined you back in your shared tent after a long night of socializing by the fire. You had kept to the tent, reading Much Ado About Nothing for one of your classes that would start in the fall. It wasn’t your first time reading the Shakespeare play, by any means, but you did want to brush up on it.

“You know, you’re actually supposed to be vacationing on this vacation,” Mary pointed out. She started changing into her pajamas for bed. You were already cozy in one of your old college hoodies and some shorts, not to mention snuggled under the warm blankets.

“I am,” you said defensively. “I hiked, I painted, I ate no less than one burger, a basket of fries, and three smores, and now I’m reading.”

“Yeah, for school,” she pointed out. “I may not be as smart as you, but I know homework when I see it.”

You shot her a smile. “You’re plenty smart, M.”

She snorted and slipped into bed beside you. It felt like the sleepovers you two used to have in college, years ago, when she’d come to crash in your dorm, or you in hers. She’d been a philosophy major (despite not giving two shits about Socrates), forced to attend college by her parents. You were an English major, working three part-time jobs just to get you through until graduation.

“Hey,” she said, laying a hand on your shoulder. You turned to her in question. She seemed more serious than usual.

“I’m worried about you,” she said. “And I’m not the only one.”

You sighed. Lowering your book, you leaned back against your pillows and stared up at the tent’s fairy lights.

“I know,” you replied. “But you don’t need to be.”

“Yeah you keep saying that, but you know the real reason I’m here, right?” Mary asked. Her insistent hand on your arm made you meet her eyes.

“You don’t have to do this," she said. "You don’t have to move out here and leave everything behind. You should just come home with me. Your parents, our friends—everyone wants to be there for you, like we have all year.”

Your lips pursed, and you shook your head.

“I’m not going to change my mind. So if that’s really why you’re here, and not to just spend some time with me, as my friend, then you should just go home,” you said. “I’ll leave here and go to my aunt’s house. I’m sure your parents can negotiate some kind of refund.”

Mary got angry and huffy, just like you thought she would. You weren’t playing around though. This was your life, and your decision.

If your friends and your family couldn’t be happy for you, or at least understanding, then they could at least respect you. You just weren’t sure when they’d get the hint that this was real.

You were moving to Montana, permanently.

On the drive back into town from the camping site, Beau ate his chocolate chip muffin and tried his best to listen to Cassie—to her theories on where the backpacker might’ve gone, and how best to tell the parents to keep her on this investigation.

A good part of him was still thinking about his daughter, wishing he could be there with her right now.

And maybe, his mind occasionally wandered…thinking about the pretty shade of your eyes when you smiled at him.

AN: And there we have it, Part 1 of a new series! If you liked it, please let me know! 🥰

And a special Happy Birthday to @jackles010378! 💖 I was going to say we're both Aries (mine is next month) but forgot Pisces comes first lol. ♓

Next Time:

The trees were tall and dark now. The moon was filtering through them like the sun had during other day hikes, but it was much more ominous at night.

“Shit,” you muttered. You gripped your flashlight in worry as panic started to well up in your chest.

Now you were lost.

You jumped with a start when the hoot of a bird passed by overhead.

Shiiiit. This was very bad.

You kept moving forward on what you thought was the trail. That was all you could do, keep moving forward. You made a few turns around some trees, occasionally calling out for Sunny, or Mary, or anyone to hear you.

▶️ Keep Reading: Part 2

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igotanidea · 1 year

Text

Retaliation: Jason Todd x plus-size!fem! reader

“You should not be staying here alone.”

“Hm?” Y/N was more focused on the chocolate pudding in front of her than the words her boyfriend shot her direction.

“You should not be staying here alone” he repeated rolling his eyes at her obliviousness.

“I’m not alone.” she licked the spoon before continuing “Alfred is here. Besides, I believe that Wayne manor has all sort of crazy technology protection measures, right? Some of them of my invention?”

“Still, I don’t like the idea…..”

“Come on, Jace.” She took a step forward, dessert in her hand. No matter what she was not willingly giving up on her piece of sweet “it’s not the first time and most definitely not the last. Why are you getting paranoid now?”

“Not sure…. Maybe it’s the instinct.”

“Maybe it’s the urge to avoid patrol with Grayson.” She smirked

“I’ll ditch him within ten seconds from the start of it and you know it. I think it’s rather the urge to not leave you alone with that chocolate thing.”

“Get the hell away from my pudding!” she yelled and rushed through the door to save herself from Jason’s greedy hands .

***

It wasn’t unusual for Y/N to stay at the manor for the night. Sometimes, she was accompanying Oracle in the batcave, some other working on her tech stuff, but still she was present there. This time however, she needed peace. Of course it was hard to focus on anything while Jason was out in the field, going full crazy with his guns and stuff, getting himself in danger, but Y/N had to force herself to try and get some rest. So instead of staying in the four walls, she decided to take a bit of fresh air. If you can even talk about fresh air in Gotham City. Still, grabbing her jacket and a pair of favorite fingerless gloves she sneaked a peek into the kitchen when Alfred was busy baking.

“Alfred.”

“Miss Y/n” the butler turned around from the counter and smiled at her. “Going somewhere?”

“Just gotta clear my mind. A lot has been going on lately.”

“Surely it did. But please, don’t be long. I may need help with preparations.”

“The feast for our fearless protectors?” the girl smiled wildly, a chuckle escaping her mouth.

“that’s one way to describe them.” Alfred smiled back lightly

“ Are you preparing your cookies?”

“I do.”

“Then I will be back in a heartbeat. That’s the only way to ensure I will get at least one of it.”

***

She did not come back in a heartbeat. She did not come back in an hour and after that time Alfred became a bit worried. Trying to keep calm he went down to the batcave to consult with Barbara, who being herself, immediately took the action, searching long and wide for any sign of Y/n. The thing she found was far from good news.

***

"Who the hell is she?"

"I don't really know. She was in the manor so....."

"You idiot!" the first man smacked the first one on the head "Were you thinking at all?!"

"Relax, Denver, maybe we can actually benefit from it. If she was at the manor she probably has some value to Wayne or one of his sons...."

"Denver ?" Y/N couldn’t help a single laugh despite the bag on her head blocking her vision and the fact that situation was far from funny "Have you guys been watching Money Heist much?"

"You shut up or I'll help you" with a single harsh move her vision was back and she squinted trying to prevent eyes from the light.

"Let me guess" her gaze focused on the man in front of her. "If you're Denver, since you really act like the most impulsive one, than he "she motioned towards the man by the wall "must be Marseille, the intermediary between you two" . And you....." she looked at he one acting like the leader of the group "let me guess, you're Berlin? Or did you go straight for the name of Professor?"

"You talk a lot for someone who's just been captured....." the leader took a few steps forward "But you're good, I'll give you that. I go by Berlin, indeed. Now, let's see the pretty face Marseille got for us.... Oh, fuck....." the sudden change of tone and unexpected word got his accomplices on high alert.

"What happened boss?" the man who called himself Denver stuttered.

"Do you know who she is? Do you freaking now who that fucking one is? You've captured Red Hood's girl!"

"Wait.... How do you know....?" Y/N stuttered

"We got our ways, sunshine. Now, this is not going to be nice for you....." he smirked reaching for the knife resting on the nearby table and his wild face expression made Y/N shiver.

Oh, no.......

***

“Red?” getting in touch with Jason to drop the news to him was far from the preferred way to spend the night, but Babs really had no choice in the matter if she wanted to save her friend.

“Kinda busy here, Oracle.”

“this is rather important.”

“Everything is rather important. I can’t really do three things at once. You got four vigilantes running loose so why don’t you…..”

“It’s about Y/n.” she specified. Time was of the essence in this case so she was trying to use as little words as possible only to get Jason going. Of course that informing any other member of the family was an option, but eventually Red Hood would find out what happened and flatten everyone and everything for not letting him know first. After all, Y/N was his girlfriend. No one else’s. And it wasn;t like he was underlying it proudly at every time possible.

“What about her?” for a moment the only sound echoing through the comms were bangs and some screams, clear sign that a single mention of her name and possibility of her being in danger got his mind spinning and his action more violent. And then Jason came back “What happened?”

***

It was getting harder and harder to breathe.

The guys who captured her were surely not the ones to joke around and make empty promises. Once they realized who she was they tried everything to get her to talk and spill Red’s secret identity. Not that she was going to talk of course, but the price to pay for silence was extremely hard.

“Damn it, you bitch!” Denver yelled and punch her straight in the face, hitting an eye and she could feel the bruise forming. “You better talk right now or….”

“Denver.” Berlin spoke calmly “Please, the girl is our guest. Is that how you treat your guests? I don’t really think so. “ he took a step towards her, grabbing her swollen face in his hand and making her look at him “it would be a shame to mutilate such pretty face…..”

“Screw you” she spat but it only made the man laugh

“You see, gentlemen. This little one has to be taught some manners. It’s a shame Joker is not in town tonight, he would show you the real meaning behind the words “big mouth.”

“Screw you ….” She repeated, but this time it came out weaker. Maybe it was because of the fact that for whatever seemed like an eternity now she was tortured with the use of every tool and every method possible. She was tied to the chair, her hands bind behind her, wrist swollen and purple because of the cut of the blood supply. She had sprained ankle which hurt like hell and many deep cuts on her legs which allowed the blood to drip freely making her feel hazy and dizzy. She also had countless bruises all over her arms and possibly dislocated shoulder. And now, also a black eye. Her head was hanging low and she was losing all the motivation to fight, not that she was going to show it to them.

“You are so stubborn, aren’t you? why don’t we start again then?” Berlin reached towards the table and grabbed something that looked like giant nail clippers “Step by step. First, you tell me who is the Red Hood. Then I’d like to know about the Nightwing. And last, but not least, Batman.”

“There is clearly something wrong with your priorities” the sudden hit in the chest made her cough and much to her terror she saw some blood coming from her mouth.

“every time you refuse to cooperate I will pull one of your fingernails.” Berlin moved closer to the chair and twisted her arm painfully, placing her finger between the claws.

“He’s going to get to you, you know…..” she whispered “he’ll find you and then…..”

“Then what, sunshine?” Marseille, silent until now joint the discussion pulling her head back and squeezing her already hurt neck, putting another knife to it. “You still think he can save you? You watch to many movies….”

“What good will it come to you if you kill me?” she panted, her heartrate picking up significantly “you still won’t know who he is underneath that mask. You’ll be left in the dark, so what is the whole point of….Auch!”

“You still don’t get it, doll, do you? We’re just sending a signal here. You see, your loverboy interfered with some of our business and let me tell you, there were consequences for us. Not the kind you like. So this…” Marseille motioned towards her broken figure “is just a collateral damage. You are a collateral damage. A lucky coincidence we captured you since it was not planned. But it will get to Hood. And when he comes….” He laughed viciously “we’ll be ready.”

“Screw…..”

“You said that before and it got you nowhere, sweetheart. Again then. Who is Red Hood?” once again the clipper got really close to her finger and Y/N gulped loudly.

“Why don’t you just ask the object of your interest?” familiar, yet modulated by the helm voice reverberated from the right upper corner of the barn the men were keeping Y/n.

“Look who decided to drop by.” Berlin smiled wildly, especially when he noticed the gun pointed at him. “now, now, Red. We all know you are way past your killing days, don’t you.”

“I can make exceptions” Jason’s gaze travelled towards Y/N who was now almost unconscious on that fucking chair, blooded, bruised, exhausted, tortured. And still with Marseille’s knife at her throat. Jason had to be extremely careful now.

“You want to add to your girl’s trauma? Poor thing has been through so much….. Believe me, we have very vivid imagination when it comes to retaliation.”

“I can assure you, it could never compare to mine.” Jason took a step forward, now almost having the gun at Berlin’s forehead “Easy, Hood. One wrong move and Marseille’s going to cut her throat without any inhibitions. “

“What do you want?” Jay’s voice broke slightly

“Take off your mask and expose yourself or… you know” Berlin made a very unambiguous gesture. “You can’t win this round, you know it. There are three against one, even you are not that good.”

“I’ve dealt with worse….”

“But not when the life of someone you love was at stake.”

Jason hesitated. He could easily take all of the men down, but could he be fast enough to save her as well? He knew Marseille, that one was a devil in disguise, the most unpredictable opponent, never acting like he was expected to. Once again, his gaze travelled to Y/N and his heart clenched. For a while her consciousness was back and he looked him straight into the eyes, her own filled with tears, fear and so much pain. She shook her head slowly, silent begging for him to not surrender for her sake, but Marseille pulled her by the hair and she stopped. It was the moment Jason could not take it anymore. His brain stopped functioning. Let them know who he was. Let them. If it means that Y/n would be kept safe he would go for it.

“Fine….” He muttered reaching up to remove the helmet.

“No! No, don’t, please, please!” Y/n yelled and the second that voice came from her things happened too fast to comprehend.

Nightwing and Red Robin came out of nowhere, heading straight towards Marseille who immediately yanked Y/N up using her as a shield. At the same time Robin went at Berlin from behind, tackling him to the ground. In such circumstances Jason fired a single shot into Denver’s leg eliminating him from the equation for good. However, the other two were not so easy to give up. Berlin got up from the floor and attacked Jason, showing unusual fighting skills, which were a bit surprising yet still not sufficient to beat Red Hood. It only took a couple seconds when he was back on the ground being beaten to death by the anti-hero.

“You hurt her!” he yelled “You should die for that!” at this point Jason did not care where his punches and kicks landed. In all his blind fury, the only image behind his eyes was Y/N, broken, scared, injured…. This only fueled his rage and made the motions more violent and powerful. He was so oblivious of what was happening that it took Dick’s interference to bring him back to reality.

“Hood!” he yelled

“Fuck off, Grayson!”

“She needs you!”

Those three little words worked like a magic spell. Jason immediately dropped unconscious Berlin, whose face was now more like a bloody pulp than anything else and looked about. Marseille was down as well, now getting tied up by Damian and a few meters further he noticed Y/N’s limp body, her head resting on Tim’s lap. The boy stood up abruptly, pushing away Dick and fall on his knees next to her, slowly and gently getting her in his arms, careful not to cause any more damage. It only took him a second to notice the deep cut on her throat and a pool of blood. Her blood.

“y/n…. no, no, no, no….” Without hesitation he took the cape Tim handed him and was trying to use it to block the bleeding “Baby, please, stay with me….Please” he sobbed noticing her breath getting more and more shallow.

“Jay….” She stuttered reaching for his cheek and cupping it gently, her hand so limp when he put his own bigger over hers. Limp and cold and pale just like her whole face.

“hush, baby. Save your strength. Just hold on to me, all right? It’s gonna be all right. You’re gonna be alright. Just don’t let go….” His grip on her grew stronger and stronger while she was becoming more pale and weak and started coughing.

“I’m….. I’m sorry…. Jay…..” she closed her eyes and took a desperate breath “I…. I love you…..”

“No, no, no, no! Don’t you dare dying on me! You hear me? I forbid you!” his hands were stained with her blood. A stain he knew he could never clean, no matter how hard he would try.

“Bossing me…. around…. Huh?”

‘I know you like it when I do that…” he brushed a strand of hair from her bloody face and rested his forehead on hers, closing eyes in silent desperation. Don't leave me, don't leave me, don't leave me.

“And yet, I never….. “ she coughed “never listened”

“Make an exception this time” he pleaded, tears falling from his eyes. “I can’t lose you…. Y/N, baby…..”

“Jay…” she whispered, eyes blurry, losing contact with reality. All the light that her gaze usually held slowly dying with each faint heartbeat. If only he could ......

"Jason...."

“I told you to fuck off Dickhead!” he spat at his brother, not caring what the oldest had to say at the moment.

“The help is here” Dick motioned towards the paramedics rushing through the warehouse door. “Come on, let them work, it’s not too late….. Jay?”

The view of big, scary Red Hood kneeling next to the girl who was the love of his live, holding her close to his chest, while sobbing, rocking back and forth and repeatedly kissing her forehead muttering some incoherent words was heartbreaking for everyone. And there was nothing either of the boys could do.

“Miracles like this don’t happen…..” Jason sobbed while Y/N’s body was practically ripped off his embrace by paramedics and put into the ambulance, while his brothers held him back, preventing from beating the medics. “I lost her….. I lost Y/n…..”

Possible part 2 - let me know if you want another part of angst, mourning and heartache.

@jasontoddsthickbabe

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atinylittlepain · 1 year

Text

Chapter Two

no-outbreak!Joel Miller x f!oc

series masterlist

series playlist

warnings: dark themes surrounding history of domestic violence, references to physical injury, heavy emotions (hope can also be heavy)

a/n: all i have to say is thank you for reading, and i'd love to hear what you think

......................................

Oh, come child

In a cross bones style

Oh, come child

Come rescue me

'Cause you have seen some

Unbelievable things

Crossbones Style by Cat Power

.....................................

Not comfort. Not exactly ease either. Familiarity maybe. Both of them settling into a routine configured around the other. She likes to help with the animals whenever she can, getting up as early as him, no task too daunting or dragging for her to say no to it. Just the other day she helped him trim back the sheep’s hooves, not even flinching when one of the girls tried to give a jerky kick underneath their ministrations, all shush and soothe in her flicking ears as Joel got the job done. She understands flight and freeze like that, at least in the animals.

They get done what chores they can in the morning before she has to get changed for work, the requisite light blue dress with the buttons down the front, an apron snug around her waist. She had made a joke about the fucking fifties the first time he saw her in her uniform, surprising him with the quick, crass humor, her half-grin as she got into the passenger seat of his truck.

He drops her off, heads into town or to the station, whatever needs to be done, and usually is done around lunchtime. He’s supposed to be watching his cholesterol, admonished by the one doctor in town two years in a row now. So he orders a salad with a sigh when he stops into the diner around noon, though Dolores will often tuck a few fries onto the side of his plate, a quiet smile when she sets it down in front of him. Maybe he’s been leaving bigger tips than is appropriate, maybe he made sure that the money in the jar on the counter would be going to her at the end of the day, a quiet conversation with Sal while she was in the back of the kitchen.

He lingers. Always an endless to-do at home, ignored in this instant, stealing a little extra time sitting at the counter, watching her flit and flicker around the regulars. She’s good with people, big, bright smiles that don’t quite round her eyes, laughs light as air, and as empty too. And he sees the quick slump of her shoulders when the customers aren’t looking, when she’s passing through the swinging door to the kitchen. Turn it on and turn it off.

But there’s someone new eating lunch at the diner today. One of those climber-backpacker types, all wired-down, tan muscle against shock-white teeth, flicking back his sun-bleached flop of hair, putting on a real show for her when she drops off his burger at his booth. It’d be rude to just keep looking, to turn around on his stool and stare the man down, so he listens instead.

“Thank you, sweetheart. Can I ask you something?” Like something small and slight being held in a fist, close to breaking or bursting, a cracked chirp of her answer, clearly flustered when she says um, yes, yeah.

“What’s a pretty thing like you doing in a town like this?” That same sound, like she’s trying to make a laugh happen, though it comes out more like a held breath that finally gasps into an exhale.

“That’s kind of you, but I need to get back to work, excuse me.”

“Oh come on, where’s that midwestern hospitality you all seem to have?”

“Do you– can I get you anything else?”

“How about a smile, sweetheart? Just a little one, for me?” For a moment, it’s silent. Joel curls his fingers in a fist, over and over, flex and extend, his back still turned. Something hot and tight closes up in his throat when he hears the man sigh, and then laugh.

“There you go, prettiest thing I’ve seen since I left Denver. I’ll be thinking about you while I’m climbing this afternoon, sweets, thank you for that.”

“Shouldn’t be climbing in the afternoon.” He says it before he can stop himself, turning around on his stool, a thick flare of hate, maybe meanness, when he sees the uncertain curl of her shoulders and the slanted smile on the man’s face.

“Excuse me?” The man slings one arm over the back of his booth, body splaying and slumping toward Joel, trying to take up more space than he’s worth. A little bit of preening, a little bit of plumage.

“You’re likely to get yourself caught in a storm up in the mountains this time of year. I’m surprised such an expert man like yourself didn’t know that.” Arrogant, artifice, the man grins, eyes swooping back over Dolores as he picks up his burger with one hand, a wolfish bite that he tucks into the side of his mouth, the slow roll of his jaw as he focuses back on Joel.

“I don’t mind trying my luck. I usually come out on top. But thanks for the tip, pal, appreciate it.” He takes one more bite, half of his burger gone in two gnashing mouthfuls, all bright white teeth. With that, a quick clap of his hands together, fast heat rubbed between his palms, he pulls out a wad of cash from the front of his pack, leaving a crumpled fistful on the table before he stands with a sigh.

“Better head out. Thank you for the smile, sweetheart, I’m gonna remember that.” He tucks a smaller fold of bills into the pocket on the front of Dolores’ apron, and Joel can see the way her stomach tenses, curling back from the suggestion of touch. The word no flashes big and battering in Joel’s mind, though there’s nothing to be done, the man already shouldering his pack and sending a slippery slide of a smile his way before he’s swaggering hips-first out the door.

“You alright?” She doesn’t quite meet his eyes, even when he ducks his head down to try to catch her beneath her lashes. All he gets is a nod and a pointed sniff, and then she sets herself back into motion, ducking into the kitchen to pick up someone else’s order.

Dolores doesn’t like men, something he learned pretty quickly about her. The first time, when they went to the drugstore together and she wilted like a wan flower under Rod’s friendly conversation, that same curling up of her shoulders, that same drop to her eyes. It happened again when she met John one day at the small grocery store in town. She had been smiling, an easy conversation about palisade peaches being in season, quick to fall and fade when Joel introduced her to the man. Even John, with the disposition of a feckless golden retriever, had gotten that same reaction out of her.

She tolerates the customers at the diner, lots of nervous laughter and quick movement, her sneakers squeaking hard on the chipped linoleum floor. Warm with the few children in town, the women too. But no, she doesn’t like men. All uncertain angles, folding herself up close and tight and away. Honestly, it’s a small miracle she’s softened that snap, that shrink-back around Joel. Comfort in the known, he supposes. He’ll take it.

“Hey, you alright?” Again, he catches her on her way to another table, a quick flicker of her eyes and a nod, shrugging the trays held in her arms a little closer, already moving again. Softened, but still there, cagey, careful, and now coaxed up to a higher degree by that man, that fucking man.

Joel leaves soon after, not wanting to corner or crowd her. Back to routine. Back to the barn and the coop and the animals and all the things that must be done around them. Fall inches ever closer, a time that demands preparation. Work that promises completion and satisfaction when done well and right. Not easy, but simple. Maybe he’s careful to keep an eye on his watch, timing his drive back to the diner right before dinner, just as Dolores is stepping out of the storefront, her face furrowed down to the bills she’s counting in her hands.

“What’s this?” His turn to drop his brow when she gets into the passenger seat and holds out a thick fold of money to him across the console.

“This should cover the clothes, and that drugstore trip you made for me.” He stares at the money, his fingers curling tighter over the steering wheel. That was two weeks ago, nearly three now, and she’s already trying to make even.

“You don’t– I’m not keeping score. That’s yours.” Fast fall, flustered, a stuttered exhale, not what she expected, not what she wanted, her hand staying suspended between them, shaking the money lightly as if to entice him into taking it.

“But, I can’t. I–” What he’d like to do is reach out too, curl his hand over hers to close her fingers around that money, make it all hers. But she doesn’t like touch, even the accidental kind, something else he has learned. That quick tightness, that smalling if he brushes behind her in the kitchen in the morning, so he doesn’t. If their hands reach for the radio in the car at the same time, little fire passed between fingertips, and then her immediate recoil, so he doesn’t. And he doesn’t now either.

“You don’t have to. I was happy to, no score. That’s your money, Dolores.” Like she just swallowed something bitter, her face scrunching and then slackening as she nods, careful and quiet in settling her hand, and her money, back in her lap.

“Could I at least help with groceries?” A small compromise, for her to look at him again, if for nothing else.

“Okay.”

Here is what makes a town. Two blocks proper, a church at one end and a bar at the other. A second hand shop that sits slumped against the post office. A library that gets new books once every two years. A restaurant, the only other one besides the diner, the downstairs of a newly-established bed and breakfast that most of the residents have turned their noses up at. A police station that sits next to the simple steeple of the church, how fitting. And a grocery store, a small one, the nearest safeway a two-hour drive east. Joel had to look up what an IGA was when he first moved here.

And because everyone knows everyone, a trip to the grocery is never in and out, always getting stopped in the produce aisle, asked after while picking up a gallon of milk. Today, no different.

“Hey there, you two. Can I expect to see you at the little thing at the bar tonight?” The little thing Patty is referring to is the fact that it’s the end of the month. A peculiar tradition, not a party, just an agreed-upon herding of one another. Joel has thought to himself on multiple occasions that its real purpose is to make sure no one quietly died while people weren’t paying attention, a once-a-month census.

“I don’t know, Patty, maybe I’ll drop by, keep folks from talking too much.” Dolores’ confusion is clear, searching between him and Patty. Why he’s trying to keep this from her, he’s unsure.

“Well, I hope to see the both of you there.” Patty is a particular kind of woman. Here long enough for her word to have some power behind it. She lives above the secondhand shop alone, though Joel knows she has two sons, shown pictures of them, arms slung across her shoulders, that same slanted smile of hers on both of their faces. They don’t visit. And Patty doesn’t seem sad for it. She orders a specific kind of red hair dye once a month, Joel always seeming to catch her at the post office picking up the box with a distinct logo stamped on its side. Nice enough, a little brash maybe, but she’s always been open-armed with him. And she’s been kind to Dolores too. No questions, at least not to her, no staring or stirring, like it makes the most sense in the world that Joel suddenly has a woman staying with him that he has never mentioned before. So she doesn’t press now, leaves it at that, leaves them to the produce aisle, an easy greeting and goodbye.

“Are you gonna go?” Her hands are deft and discerning, cracking open and peeling back a pale green corn husk, a hoard of it on sale this year, fine silk tassels and that sweet, crisp, smell.

“Oh, probably not.” He holds open the produce bag for her, a quiet yeah when she asks if four ears is enough.

“I would go, you know, if you wanted to.”

“Do you want to?” She shrugs, the slight swing of the hem of her dress as she walks alongside him, zucchini and tomatoes.

“Patty seems like the kind of person who’s used to getting her way.” She doesn’t say it mean, only observation as she tucks two tomatoes down in the cart. He can feel a smile threatening at the corners of his mouth.

“She certainly doesn’t like the word no. We could stop by, if that’s alright with you?”

It is alright, and after dinner, summer spoils sweet and sated, he waits for her on the porch while she changes out of her uniform. It’s getting darker earlier, the sun already cracking and dripping between the mountains, everything hushing down orange and purple. Soon, it will be time for the sheep to spend their nights in the barn, and in the day too, during that deepest, tightest fist of winter. But for now, it’s quiet, save for the dull thrum of all the small, crawling things, air that’s only a relief in its coolness, not a worry.

“Ready?” Pretty, he thinks. Hasn’t seen that before, he thinks. Crisp white with fine little flowers embroidered along the neckline and the sleeves. The neckline, a new expanse of her sternum on display, the fragile flutter of it when he stares just a beat too long.

“Uh-huh, yeah.” Ready, dark enough that the headlights need to be flicked on, flooding yellow down the bare brush and scrub along the road. And then the bleeding neon glow of the bar on the edge of town coming into focus.

Shoes sticking in the syrupy grime of a few decades past, dim lights and a perpetual haze of smoke, something sad and slow drifting in on the jukebox. No pretense, no pretending that folks are here for anything other than getting a little drunk at the end of another day.

Patty is happy to see the both of them, offering a bottle that Joel accepts, and one that Dolores politely declines, though she still allows herself to be pulled along by the older woman, leaving Joel to make his rounds. The same questions, asked and answered, health and hearth and how are you. Fine, just fine. Except, a little distracted, quick glances over to the bar where Dolores is sitting. Patty still there with her, still getting her to smile, so fine, just fine until the next time he looks over.

Not Patty. Him. Big, bright shark tooth smile, fang and flare. Even more tan, skin tight and taut against quick-jumping muscle, all pumped and puffed out from his afternoon climb. A wiry arm slung around the back of Dolores’ chair, her whole body slanted and steeled toward the side as he leans in, lips pulled back in a sneer of a smile.

Whoever Joel was talking to, he’s no longer listening, no longer even feigning interest as he watches, trying to piece together whatever that man is saying to her by the way his jaw pulls with each of his words. Waiting, really, for any excuse to step in, to make this wrong right.

And then, enough, already in motion as he watches the man reach out, the backs of his knuckles brushing against her clavicle before she can jerk away. Gotcha, got you, gonna get you. All the ways the human body can recoil, say no, and all the ways it can refuse to listen.

He doesn’t catch the end of whatever the man is saying, words coming out on a quick bark of laughter that makes Dolores flinch harder, knuckles all curled up in her lap. He doesn’t care to know, a thick wash of no drowning it out. The thing is, Joel can get big, and loud, and mean, so mean. If he needs to. He can roll back his shoulders and set his jaw in a hard grind. He can make a fist and then make contact. He can make a man get small and get gone. But not in front of her. Another body to account for, a shivering down small body, a body that cannot bear any more violence. So he must settle for something else, a quiet heat, an expression on his face that he hopes is no enough.

“Is there a problem?” The man glances over his shoulder, all smile, all teeth.

“Hey, pal. No problem here. I was just telling this pretty thing about the climb I got in, wasn’t I?” He asks it with a duck of his head, trying to steal her gaze that she keeps on her hands in her lap. A habit of hers, the skin around her nails picked and pulled raw, soon to bleed with the way she’s worrying at them now.

“I don’t think she’d like to hear any more of what you have to say, pal.” A flicker of something animal, the man sucks his teeth, mouth screwed to the side before he sighs. Fire needs fuel, and he’s not getting any, certainly not from her. Something that sounds like not worth it as he sways himself out of the bar. Joel knows this kind well, blown in and out in a day, maybe two. Not a problem, not really, and he won’t let it become one.

“Thank you.” She gives Joel her eyes, a quick nod as he sits down beside her. Careful distance kept between them, space for her to spread back out, to unfurl, and she does, leaning back in her chair, a quick roll of her shoulders like she’s trying to shake off that shiver.

“I have no patience for people like that. Think they’re hot shit for hiking up a mountain when they’re just a nuisance.” Maybe he said too much, tempering his words with a swig of his beer, though Dolores seems to receive it, turning slightly toward him so he can feel the ghost of her knee brush against his.

“I just don’t like men like that.” He sighs, because what could he say to that? What hasn’t already been said in the slow fade of the bruises on her arms?

“Drink?”

“Yeah, please.”

It’s quiet between them for a while, each nursing a beer as the din around them lulls and lifts. He drums his fingers against his thigh, something steady while he tries to work a thick flood of words into something that might make sense, something that won’t make her recoil.

“Can I ask you about it?” She doesn’t look at him, focused on her thumbnail working the sticker off her bottle. But she does nod, lips pursed, long sigh like she needs to make room for what she’s about to say.

“All of it?”

“If you’re okay with that, yes.”

Yes, she’s okay with that. No, her husband wasn’t always the way he is now. He was kind until he wasn’t. Quiet until he wasn’t. The first time, silly. That’s what she calls it. A silly, stupid thing. The windshield of his car had gotten chipped while she was driving it. And she saw black with the way his hand guided her skull into the wall of their bedroom when she got home. Silly, she says, a wave of her palm like, no big deal, because not the worst of it. His stomach slurs and sickens.

She was a teacher, her lips curling around the memory like it tastes sweet. And then he told her to stop working. Command, not question. Gave her a careful fold of money each morning, like a child’s allowance, like a leash choked close and tight. What friends she had left told her to leave him, lovely sentiment, with what money? With what, with what, with what?

And then he got a gun. Waved it around like a second dick. A strange swagger, what the weight of such perfect destruction does in a man’s palms, slung on his hip, never far.

“Did he?”

“Once, right here.” Two fingers pressed to her temple, her eyes unblinking, expressionless. Though it’s gone just as quick, her fingers flexing and curling into a quick fist before settling back in her lap, unmaking memory.

She left then. With what, with what, with what? Nothing. A book in the passenger seat and a vague conception of the west meaning something like hope.

“You like to read?” Anything else will come out too harsh, too big with anger, so that will have to do. She seems relieved for it, shoulders settling and smoothing.

“Yes, I do.”

“We can get you a library card, if you want.”

“I’d like that.”

…

They go to the library the next day, and the man who works there just seems happy that there’s anyone new to give a library card to in the first place.

Dolores has already begun reading the first book in the small stack she checked out, quiet in the passenger seat the whole drive home. And later, when he leaves for his overnight shift, she’s on the couch, already halfway finished, lips parted and moving with the page.

“I’ll see you in the morning then.” Still startled by his voice, quick to shut her book and look at him, and like so many other times, he wishes he hadn’t said anything, had let her stay suspended in that ease.

“Alright, thank you again.” He’s still not very good at accepting that from her, a nod and a shrug of his shoulders, out the door.

Lately, these shifts have gotten tinged sour. Something anxious, something angry. Waiting, maybe. Willing. Wanting that car to come zipping past him on the black strip of the interstate. Wanting to chase it down. Wanting to do something that he shouldn’t want to do. He’ll come, he thinks. They always do. Men like that won’t give up the thing that makes them feel big so easily.

For now, Joel hunkers down in the car, radio off, quiet, waiting with all the other languoring animals for something that will sate. He replays what she told him in his mind, lets something dark curl around it, poison thoughts. But he has to ask himself why. All this care, all this concern, and all this anger, why? For a perfect stranger, who’s not really a stranger now. Been living around each other for nearly a month, so no, not a stranger anymore.

He likes her. An answer both simple and devastating at the same time. And is he just as bad as any other man? Finding a scared thing so very pretty. No, he cannot like her like that. He cannot like her like watching the rise and fall of her sternum, and he cannot like her like stealing glances of her every chance he can get. Because that is the last thing she needs. But care is allowed. Making something wrong the smallest bit right is allowed. A friend, a familiar thing, a comfort. All things he can do for her.

…

The sun is just starting to heft its golden belly over the mountains when he gets home, pale blue light and mist rising cool and shy in the brush. Usually, at this hour, she will already be up, making breakfast for the both of them that he always feels a bit bashful accepting.

But it’s quiet in the house this morning, still. Her book rests on one side of the couch, a rumpled blanket beside it. He doesn’t hear the old pipes groaning with the task of running water, the floorboards crackling with the fact of shuffling feet. And he shouldn’t but he does. Panic like a tight fist, like a heavy stone in his gut.

He knocks on her bedroom door, a quiet call of her name. Nothing. And he shouldn’t, but he does. So careful, so quiet in cracking open the door. Nothing. Bed still made, untouched. She must have spent the whole night on the couch. Why does that make his heart kick and quicken in his chest? The thought of her reading right through the darkness, the singular glow of the lamp tendriling out into the night.

Not here though. Did she? Could she? Would she? He feels drunk off this reality. But scared things have always been known to flee, haven’t they? To pretend at fragile trust until they find an opportunity to escape. Did she feel like she needed to escape from him? His palm tries to rub that thought out of his chest, real ache, real pain at the idea.

Fresh air, because his skull is already starting to throb with this. He steps out onto the porch and tries to imagine all the ways this leaving could have been done. He hates every possibility, every phantom flight that he can conjure. But no time to let it sting or steep, because laughter, a sudden, foreign peel of it. Hers, he’s never heard hers before. But there she is, rounding the corner of the coop, a few of the chickens following close on her heels, already their favorite between the two of them. And she’s talking to them, quiet murmurings from behind a smile, another quick burst of brightness.

“Hey, good morning.” Saying it to him, smiling at him, the biggest, best relief. He joins her, only a little grumble at the way the chickens squawk at his sudden intrusion.

“You figure out names for them yet?” One eye dropped in a squint in the brash wash of morning light, still smiling.

“I have some ideas, yeah.”

She’s here, how wonderful. And how awful, how quickly his heart seized and shuttered itself up at the thought of anything else. He can’t think about that too much, what that means. What danger that creates and threads through his ribs. So he focuses instead on breakfast, close in the kitchen, coffee for her with cream and a spoon of sugar, how he has found she likes it, silent sliding it across the counter to her where she’s stirring eggs in the pan. Always a thank you.

The table in the kitchen is so small that he has to keep his chair scraped back so his knees won’t brush against hers, making space for her to spread out.

“Thank you, for letting me stay so long. I know it’s not– you’re probably–” She stops herself, a sigh, chin tucked down. He could almost laugh, because here she is thanking him for what he was so afraid she didn’t want.

“You don’t have to thank me. I’m glad you’re here, for as long as you’d like to be.” Trying to make it clear that this is not a cage, though the words still feel thick and foolish coming out. She swallows a careful bite of her breakfast, not looking at him, and again, he finds himself bracing for flight.

“I like being here.”

....................................

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mvltisstuff · 1 year

Text

solitude - e.b

summary: the only people who hear hen and chimney out about jonah are y/n and buck, but little do they know the hell it’ll rain down on them.

evan buckley x reader

a/n: ok but like imagine all four of them working tgt bc this storyline was actually rly good… this is literally just buck, y/n, hen and chim acting like the mystery gang for a day!! 3.4k wc 🏃‍♀️🏃‍♀️

“claudette and perry both had no other symptoms before full cardiac arrest,” hen starts, scanning over the patient charts left by the new paramedic. “he’s administered nebulized albuteral during transport.”

“hen, look,” chimney points to the computer screen. “he’s been at four different locations, chicago, miami, dallas, and denver. now he’s hitting up LA.”

the station sirens buzz in their ears, alerting that they could be discovered any second. hen shoves the files into her jacket as chimney logs out, and they shuffle out quickly attempting to go unnoticed. hen looked for any details in the files that she could, trying to confide in karen.

clearly, there was a pattern of extreme suspicious in jonah’s patient files. these patients had no reason to be going into arrest when they were not showing previous symptoms. hen was the best paramedic there, in medical school. she just hoped that everyone would see the obvious wrongdoings. it was painfully evident that he was a dangerous person to be placed in the system.

hen and chimney banged repeatedly on buck and y/n’s apartment, knowing that they’d be the ones to believe them. y/n’s taken note of jonah’s behaviors, but she tried not to think anything of them, just as magical saves.

“hi?” buck says, answering the door. “are you two ok?”

“we need to talk to you and y/n,” hen tells him, inviting chimney and herself in. both y/n and buck hadn’t expected visitors, so they were clearly not dressed in presentable clothing.

“hey, hen, chim,” y/n comes down the stairs. “what’s going on?”

“you two need to look at these,” hen slaps the folders down onto their kitchen counter. buck takes one as y/n reads the other.

“what’s wrong with them? aren’t these just patient files?”

“and why are they all jonahs?”

“buck, you saw claudette before she died.”

“y-yeah, i did. she was fine, though. there was probably something underlying the inhalation,” buck grows more confused at the paperwork and the accusations from his friends.

“look,” chim points. “he’s administering drugs that have nothing to do with patient conditions.”

“meaning… he had no reason to push any meds at all,” buck speaks slowly, starting to put the pieces of the puzzle together.

“protocol dictates that the only treatment used in that situation is respiratory, and we looked at claudette’s autopsy report. there were incredibly high amounts of potassium in her system that would’ve been present in the tests we did on scene,” hen informs the group in front of her.

“so is he some murderer paramedic?” y/n asks, looking up from the file. “i believe you, but how do we even get this to question? do we bring it to bobby?”

“i don’t know where we go from here,” hen starts. “but he needs to be out of the LAFD before he purposely kills someone else.”

buck, y/n, henrietta, and chimney had all piled over to athena’s house. they presented the activity of greenway to bobby, explaining that he has documented his cynical moves.

“i’m not approving any of your suspicions, but we have to be careful with these accusations against him getting out,” bobby tells his workers.

“listen, cap,” chim says. “he’s got a history of this. we can’t confirm what was in that syringe, but it sent claudette collins into cardiac arrest.”

“he’s been bouncing around to different cities the last few years, way too many to be looked passed.”

“so he’s just killing people for mercy?” athena asks, holding bobby’s hand and intently reading over the patient files.

“it’s way more complicated than that. when jonah was a kid, he played the hero. he’s reliving that by trying to play god and bring them back,” y/n adds, standing beside her boyfriend. buck doesn’t want to overthink this, but he’s so conflicted about the whole situation. he knows bringing up something like this is incredibly risky when dealing with a person like jonah. if things were to go awry, then he’d feel like it was his fault for not believing it.

“we tried getting news footage, but it’d be more suspicious that way,” buck tells bobby.

the group was sent away to leave bobby and athena to their own investigation, letting them work this out on their own. in the driveway, they stood by the two cars they used to come here.

“come back to my house,” hen suggests. “we can look some stuff up there on jonah and pick out any details we can get.”

“i can grab my laptop that has the proper software on it. it’s back at my place, though, i’d have to grab it,” chim states.

“ok, guys,” buck begins. “don’t you think we might just have to leave this alone? there’s only so much we can do with this.”

“who else can deal with this, though? we have the resources and the upper hand with this, buck,” hen replies back at his worries.

“look, buck,” y/n places a reassuring hand on his arm. “i’ll go with chim to get his computer, and then we’ll be over. just try and hear her out some more because this is something way deeper than what we might think.”

buck agrees, allowing himself to listen to hens convincing. she rants on about more details, slowly but surely opening up his mind to the possibility. as she portrays her concerns to him passionately, her sentence is brought to a halt when her phone rings through her car’s speaker. the unknown number is thoughtless to henrietta as she presses the green button. “hello?”

“i heard you’ve been asking people about me,” the cold, dark voice echos through the car, causing buck and her to tense up.

“jonah?” buck whispers, to not let him hear.

“got the weirdest call, something about an investigation about that dispatcher. did you four file a complaint against me?”

“jonah, i don’t know what you think is going on, but-“

“i think that you never gave me a chance. to show you what i’m capable of,” he speaks eerily into the phone, making bucks eyes widen. “so i’m gonna do that now. i’m going to show you, henrietta and evan.”

the phone beeps, signaling the hang up from the other end. “what was that?” buck panics. “hen, what is he showing us?”

“he said us four, right? he’s gonna show us four?”

“so are we next?”

“next? who’s first?”

buck heart drops to the floor, frantically reaching for his phone and dialing y/n’s number. his shaky hands slowed it down, but the prolonged ringing was painful to hear. if jonah was going to show them what he can do, he’s going to go for that group first. as evil of a man as he is, he’s amazingly smart. he’s not going to begin with buck and hen, he’s starting with y/n and chimney before going down the line. the sweet sound of y/n’s voicemail goes into bucks ears, his heart thumping against his chest. “hen, go to chimneys apartment. now!” he yells, and she presses on the gas, redirecting the two of them in his direction.

buck called y/n repeatedly, completely petrified of losing the one person he’s loved more than anything. he would be so defeated if she was hurt because of his disbelief. he called chimney, maddie, karen, and anyone who might be able to reach them. unfortunately, no one had good answers for them.

he sprinted up the stairs of the building, hen rushing behind him. the door was unlocked, and the room had an unfamiliar feel to it. the orange lighting and silence was strange to the two, searching for her best friend and his girlfriend. “chim?” hen shouts out. she gives buck an unsure look, one containing an expression of fear and confusing all mixed into one.

before buck can even turn, the thick footsteps behind him rush up. he looks at hen, ready to pounce and run out, but the man is too quick on his feet. buck is injected with a needle right where his shoulder and neck meet, twinning with hens own needle in her skin. the syringes are pushed down, forcing an unnecessary liquid into their bodies.

they recognize the feeling all too well. the fading of their hearing turning into ringing. the scene in front of them disintegrating into black dots. their bodies became heavier and heavier, before turning light again as they thumped to the ground below.

the two awoke at the same time, feeling like they were suffering with sleep paralysis. their arms were restrained behind their back and their eyes were dry and tired. their ankles were connected to the legs of the chairs, but the sight in front of them was worse than any demon that could haunt them.

jonah towered over chimney on the table, pushing more probable toxic fluids into his veins. hens heart was beating obnoxiously fast, but she couldn’t tell if it was from the drugs or from the scene that was unfolding. chimney lay shirtless and almost lifeless on the table with alarmingly slow beeping coming from the portable machine.

y/n was laying across from him in the opposite direction, the two being smushed together. she had matching IV’s in her arm and patches on her chest, the only remaining article was her bra. buck could swear he was screaming, but nothing was coming out. his face was still, but his eyes were full of tears and panic at seeing y/n unconscious. everything was completely out of his control. he glanced over at hen, complete terror in her eyes while trying to calm jonah.

the room they were placed in was unfamiliar, almost completely darkened beside the light above his two victims. or in jonah’s mind, his patients. jonah craved validation from people around him, but also from himself. he remains hungry for the feeling he had the day he saved his bus driver. he was a hero, and he had to make sure everyone knew it.

as soon as the flatline ricocheted in the room, jonah scooped up the paddles and shocked the two until the beeping commenced again. “look who decided to join us,” jonah teases. “i was too generous with the propofol, you two were out longer than i expected!”

“why are you doing this, jonah?” hen begs to know the answer. bucks dying just to give him a piece of his mind, but hen has regained more of her strength.

“you know, you can get anything on the internet these days, like medical equipment, drugs. the real answer is that you gave me no choice, henrietta. snooping around and checking up on me when we are supposed to be on the same team.”

“we are not, on the same team,” hen mumbles. “we don’t put our patients in danger.”

jonah moves over to y/n. “one sec,” he says while pushing another dose of adenosine.

“no,” buck manages to push out.

“jonah, please, you’re stopping her heart,” hen cries out.

“don’t worry, nothing a little epinephrine can’t fix, right?” he nodes with a ring of excitement in his voice. an maniacal, twisted voice. as soon as his hands move to the paddles next to him, buck frantically shuffles in his chair. he places them to her chest, her body flailing up before restoring a normal heart rhythm. “woo!” jonah screams. “nothing like it, huh? the rush of watching someone walk right up the deaths door and snatching them right back. it’s like being god.”

“we are not god,” buck replies to him, regaining some of his fight. “i swear to god, let them go right now-“

“alright, alright,” jonah says. he grabs the needles and bottles while pouring the drug into it. he injects it into both y/n and chimneys skin.

“jonah, please don’t do this, jonah!” hen yells.

“oh, my bad, i thought you wanted me to let them go…” he tells them, slyly.

“you son of a bitch, you lay another hand on her an-“

“and you’ll what? you can’t do anything, buckley,” jonah steps closer to the restrained people. “you both need a partner like me. someone more your speed.”

hens eyes land on the movement on one of the tables. chimney twitches and his eyes are squinting from weakness in his brain. he’s playing around with the machine while getting a good grip on one of the electric shock paddles. “you are not my speed. you’re sloppy, and even if i wanted to commit these heinous crimes, you think i’d let myself get caught?” hen starts to mock the man in front of her while trying to distract him to give chimney time. bucks eyes have never separated from y/n, his soft gaze was planted on her aching body, lacking life in all forms.

“you might’ve been a hero once, jonah,” buck begins to play along with the distraction act, knowing they can’t take anymore of the brunt of it than y/n and chimney have. “but now, well you’re nothing but a fucking murderer,” buck hisses out at him. as jonah begins to move over, hen gives chimney a convincing look as he presses a button on the vital machine.

“no, i’m not,” jonah laughs sarcastically.

“then why is chimney not breathing?” buck spits at him as jonah whips around, looking at the flatlining man on the table. he runs around, and chimney silently hypes himself up to act. it’s now or never, it’s live or die, and it’s jonah’s turn to taste his own medicine.

chimney shoves the paddle into jonah, causing him to shiver and collapse on the floor in front of him. “chim!” hen gasps. “oh, my god. are you ok?” chimney grunts his way over and off the table, stumbling to the ground while he crawls over to hen. he starts pulling at the ropes around her feet, letting them go as she is able to maneuver her hands out of the ropes. she wobbles over to buck, who is then released and limps over to his girlfriend.

“y/n? hey, baby, c’mon wake up,” he shakes her in a desperate attempt to bring her senses back and wake her from this nightmare. when he eyes finally begin to slowly open, he releases a heavy breath.

“buck, please tell me she’s ok!” hen says, comforting chimneys panting self.

“she’ll be ok,” he leans down, pressing his lips to her forehead.

“b-buck,”

“hey, hey, it’s ok, we’re all ok.”

the red and blue lights are hard to miss behind them, reflecting in the windows and onto the walls. they hear the ruckus of the officers clattering their way into the room, placing chimney and y/n on a stretcher as buck and hen follow out. jonah is summoned away to the new reality of the back of a police car. buck finally sees another familiar face, running over to bobby as he pulls him into a strong hug. bobby’s anger is fueling in his system, not being able to control himself before his fist is connected with jonah’s face.

“hey, cap,” chimney says, clearly on some new type of drug that will actually help him. “nice punch.”

“i am so sorry, you guys. im just so happy you’re ok,” bobby rants out in pure relief at his team. hen climbed into chimneys ambulance, as buck stood in complete denial about the situation. “hey, buck.”

“she died, bobby,” buck says, glaring into the distance. “her heart stopped and now she’s pumped up with all this stuff and i couldn’t save her and he almost murdered her-“

“listen, kid,” bobby grabs bucks shoulders, trying to ground him. “she’s ok, what she needs now is you next to her. we got him, he’s going away for the rest of his life. now go get checked out, please.”

buck releases yet another exhale as a matching teardrop falls down his cheek. buck walks off, grabbing onto y/n’s hand as she’s lifted into her own ambulance. he still looks at his girlfriend in complete disbelief that she’s alive, and that he is too.

the hospital air was dry and they knew it like a best friend. the smell, the feeling, the white lights that make you think you’ve died when you wake up. they’ve walked in and out of so many hospitals, almost having no fear that they’ll never come out. until buck sees y/n in the bed is the first time he’s completely shaking in the one next to her.

“c’mon, doc,” chimney complains. “i’m fine, i don’t need to stay here.”

“it’s good that you feel good, but it’s just overnight. we want to keep an eye on you and y/n to make sure nothing changes in your blood levels,” the doctor explains.

“it’s ok, chim. just listen to her because she’s right,” hen reassures him before starting her own complaint session.

“i’m glad you feel that way, because we’re keeping you too for further tests. you as well, evan. it’s to make sure he didn’t put anything else into you guys,” hen groans and looks at her three friends.

“we’re in for a hell of a night, y’all.”

chimney and y/n were placed in one room together, needing the same type of observation as hen and buck were having a slumber party in the other. they were watching whatever crappy reality shows they could find until their boredom got the best of them. hen and buck snuck out in their twinning gowns and IV lines and made their way to the room holding their favorite people inside. when they walked in, they said, “guys, we’re breaking out of this joint.”

“and how exactly do you plan to execute that?” chimney asks, slurping on an almost empty juice box. buck moves over to sit on y/n’s bed, caressing her hand as she smiles at him.

“you two almost did die,” hen says. “you know, i never really liked him.”

“not much of a fan myself,” chimney replies in his always lighthearted spirit.

“well some people thought i was crazy, but you guys were ready to go to battle with me. with no proof, you listened and were on board from the start.”

“um, i definitely was not on board from the start,” buck interjects.

“well look at us now buck! we’re stuck together for life,” hen smiles.

“hens always right, that’s the thing between us. she’s the genius and we were the comic relief,” chimney adds.

“you guys are way more than that. chim, you’re the best friend i’ve ever had. y/n and buck, i can’t imagine my life without you two. you’re like denny’s siblings at this point and i’m one hundred percent bringing this up at your wedding.”

“well, you know what they say about parents at weddings,” y/n hints. “they always pay for it.”

“ooh! got her there,” buck laughs and looks at hen. “you know i love you guys, you’re my family.” he lifts y/n’s hand up, landing a kiss on her knuckles.

“if we weren’t in a hospital room right now, i’d say that was quite romantic, buck. i’m proud of you,” chimney pokes fun at the couple on the other side of him before looking back at hen. “we did a great job raising them, don’t you think?”

“i’m just really happy you’re ok. i cant do this without you, y/n. you’re my whole life,” buck speaks softly to his girl, looking deep into her loving eyes.

“you’ll never have to do anything without me,” y/n says. “you’re stuck with me, love.”

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