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wavesmp3 · 3 years

Text

[ksw] clouds

sunwoo x reader

wc. 5k warnings: medical inaccuracies, death, illness, hospitals, overall just a pretty heavy piece genre can only be described as an absolute mess inspired mainly by san junipero but also slightly by charlie kaufman and wong kar wai

a/n: this is supposed to be told nonlinearly but like the creation of it was very messy so i have no clue if it actually worked, so good luck trying to make this piece make sense of this :)

act iii. scene iii.

Sunwoo sits and watches the sun shift from pink and blue to an impossible shade of green. And it’s then he knows that without a doubt Clara has ruined the color green for him. Because instead of marveling at the color of the sky, Sunwoo is reminded of the doors in her apartment building.

“Thought I might find you here.” The voice of a stranger who Sunwoo loved once upon a time says behind him. He tries like hell not to turn around. Not to lean back towards the voice and wait for your hand on his shoulder or your shin knocking familiarly against his back. He focuses on the waves crashing below instead. The roar of the water beneath him is deafening, but only if you let it be. He does, and he almost forgets that you’re behind him.

“Where’d you go?” You ask, now sitting next to him, tugging at the long grass.

“I’m right here.”

“And what about in there?” You bring a finger up and poke at the side of his forehead.

He turns to you, facing you in full. He takes in your features like it’s the first time all over again. And, oh, he wishes he knew before how many firsts you already had together. This is just another. This is just the first time he’s seen you in the past six months and remembered the thousands of times he’s seen your face before.

He studied your cheeks. The one he now recalls running the back of his palm over after you left for the Cloud.

He memorizes, for the millionth time, your eyes. He used to swear they were darker than they are, but then he saw them in the sun. He was dying back then; then he saw your eyes and you saved him. Just like that.

Mr. Choi was right of course. As he always must be. You and him are like an old married couple. Not like. You are. Almost were.

“I had lunch with Mr. Choi today.” He tells you.

You squint at him. “I know. It’s Thursday.” You pull out a piece of the grass. “What’d he make?”

“Ramen.”

“Was it good?”

“It was okay.”

“Too spicy?”

Suwnoo answers with a sigh, looking away from you and back towards the water. The deafening waves crash against the cliffside. “I know you looked at your file.” He finally says. You stop pulling at the grass. You still. “Mr. Choi told me.”

After he says it, there’s a silence that isn’t actually silent at all. The waves rage below his feet. The seagulls are there too, beneath, above, somewhere, everywhere. And then, of course, there’s you and Sunwoo, trying to be silent over the static in your heads and the machines you’re hooked up to in a universe far far away.

“Did he tell you about my file?”

He looks at you again. “No.”

“Oh.” You look away, brows furrowed, lick your lips, and then turn back to him. “So why are you upset?”

“After he told me, I went and I…”

“You didn’t.”

“I looked at mine.”

There’s another silence, except that this time it really is quiet. Sunwoo read once whilst in a rabbit hole of medical research that true silence only happens in a vacuum, where there is no medium for sound waves to travel through. This must be that. This place, the files, Mr. Choi and Mr. Chan, Clara and her apartment building full of green doors--it’s a vacuum. And they stick people in it then call it the Cloud. They call it extra time. But it isn’t. It’s nothing and he’s stuck in the middle of it. So Sunwo stares at you, straight through the vacuum of time and space you’re both lost in, waits for you to say something, and then waits for himself to hear it.

“You looked?” You finally say, voice folding in on itself.

“Yes.” Sunwoo’s own voice is barely there. You must be reading his lips which you’ve always been good at anyways.

“So you know now?”

“I always knew, and now, I remember.”

act i. scene iv.

There’s been an accident.

That’s what they say when the sun falls out of the sky and the world starts spinning in the wrong direction. It’s how they show up at Sunwoo’s door painted in shades of blue and red, with authority in their arms and hands on their hips. How they prepare him for the looming moment where they rip past his skin, blood, bone to shoot a gun straight at his heart. I’m so sorry for your loss, they say leaving him with a bullet lodged somewhere between his left and right atrium.

And those are the four words that play over and over and over in Sunwoo’s head as he gets to the hospital. Those are the words that crawl inside his open chest and turn him blue and black with infection. There’s been an accident, he remembers, staring at the extraordinary measures taken to keep your heart beating and lungs beating. This is it. Except that the accident isn’t that you’re dying, but that you’re dying. It’s always supposed to have been him. He’s supposed to be the one stuffed with tubes and hooked up to monitors, the one whose life is hanging on by a thread, and you’re supposed to be the one that saves him. It all feels like a play that’s gone horribly wrong because everyone switched parts after intermission without telling him. At what point did you steal the role of dying protagonist from him?

We did everything we could, a stranger in a white coat says. Except that it’s not some stranger, it’s your colleague and co-worker because this is the hospital you work at and the hospital Sunwoo met you in. There was too much damage to the brain, they explain as the image of their tear-stricken face goes from your friend during intern year to the doctor who operated on you as your brain went dead.

“We have two options, right?” Sunwoo is far too familiar with surgery and all this. He knows from his hospital days what’s supposed to happen next. But apparently, things have changed since then.

“Actually, there’s a third option.”

Sunwoo doesn’t waste a second. He jumps out of the chair stained red from his bleeding heart and asks: “What is it?”

“We can upload them.”

act iii. scene ii.

In fifty days of living in the cloud, Sunwoo has learned all about the people that he shares a building with. There’s Mr. Chan who lives behind a vomit green on the same floor as him and who hasn’t left his room since last January. There’s also Mr. Choi, who lives behind the emerald door and invites Suwoo over for lunch every Thursday. Clara lives upstairs, where the walls are painted in various shades of green--olive, seaweed, moss, hunter, shamrock, sage, and others that Sunwoo tries not to think too deeply about. He’s only met Clara once in the past fifty days and has no particular wish to see her again. He hadn’t expected her to be a kid. Cancer, you told him after their introduction in the lobby, poor girl was only seven. As said before, Sunwoo tries not to think about it.

And then of course there’s you behind the forest green door who has been slowly showing him all the good places. There’s the beach where you spent the day making seashell necklaces. The cafe which serves its tea too sweet for him, but sweet enough to be considered your favorite. Sunwoo just gets the chocolate bread. You took him downtown. To a club. The tallest building. And to midtown where the amusement park is.

But his favorite place you’ve taken him so far is the cliffside above the beach, where the waves crash against the rocks in a way that can only be described as violent. That day you and him laid in the grass and stared at the clouds with your heads dangling just over the edge and water spraying the backs of your necks. That day you turned to him and told him you’re sorry. For what, he asked. I’m so sorry you’re sick, you said, but it’s nice to have you around here. I think in a sense, we’ve both been waiting for this. Then, you smiled and stole all of the blood from his body. So yeah, that day, that place--it’s his favorite.

Today, you take him on a hike up a mountain.

“Do you believe in an afterlife?” You ask him after having spent thirty minutes silently staring at the view from the best peak.

“One after this?”

“Yeah. I guess. Although, I’m not so convinced this counts.”

“I don’t know.” Sunwoo shrugs. “Maybe.”

“Do you think we’d be able to be with our loved ones in it?”

His chest lurches. “If there is one, yes.”

“Do you think it’ll be different than this?”

Sunwoo turns to you finally. “Why are you asking about this?”

You shake your head. “Nevermind. It’s a stupid question.”

He turns back towards the view. From here, he can make out Clara’s building. He thinks about her, about Mr. Choi and Mr. Chan, who he recently found out were once married but who haven’t spoken since Mr. Chan read his file in January, and he thinks about you and about him.

“I think,” Sunwoo says, loud enough so that you can hear after wandering a little bit away from him, “that whatever the afterlife is, if it does exist, it’ll be worth it.”

You turn to him, but don’t make any move to come near him again. “And if it doesn’t exist?”

“Then life will have been worth it.”

The corner of your lip lifts. “I like that.”

Sunwoo only nods at the sentiment, and after a long while, he builds enough courage to ask, “you’ve been here a really long time, haven’t you?”

“Time doesn't work as linearly in the cloud as it does in the real world. Sometimes it feels like I got here and then you arrived the very next day.” You turn back towards the view and exhale heavily.

“But yes. I’ve been here for an eternity.”

act ii. scene i.

Before he actually sees you, Sunwoo feels you. Not you, in particular, but something in the distance, a presence in the corner of the room and a pair of eyes watching him from somewhere far away.

The scariest part is how much the feeling doesn’t actually scare him.

Two days after that, he starts to see you in the flesh. He tells himself that his mind is playing tricks on him, that the person he saw in the produce aisle wasn’t actually you at all and was just a stranger with the same hair.

He doesn’t go straight home from the store that day. Instead, he stops by the hospital and checks in on you, but even that doesn’t do anything about the fact that he sees a shadow of you behind the bed.

The day after that, you speak to him. Standing in the middle of his kitchen in broad daylight, you speak, you say hello, and the first thing Sunwoo thinks is that he’s dead.

You aren’t, you reply. You’re a zombie, he reasons, here for my brain. I’m not. A ghost. No. Are you, here Sunwoo falters, fear flooding out of his body to make room for the briefest blotch of hope that’s crushed almost immediately by you saying: I’m not alive, Sunwoo. You saw me in the hospital yesterday.

“So then,” he swallows, “what are you?”

I’m here. You look at him, stare at his face and without a sliver of doubt say, I’m here for you.

Sunwoo knows it’s impossible. You can’t be here. You can’t. And yet, you are.

Three years ago Sunwoo was told he had three months left to live, and he still remembers how impossibly you saved him from the brink of death. He remembers how impossible things happen all the time, and how impossibly possible it is that this is one of them. He steps towards you, touches your face, and feels the real, impossible thing against his hand.

“You’re here.”

On the fifth day of your haunting, Sunwoo finally has the sense to ask why.

Why what?

“Why are you here?”

I’m here for you.

“Stop saying that.”

But I am, you tell him. You asked, and that’s the answer. I’m a doctor, Sunwoo. I’m here for you.

Then, finally, he hears what you’ve been saying for the past five days. You’re here for him.

And the thing about doctors is that they’re there for you when you need them.

“I’m sick.”

Yes, you answer quietly, although it wasn’t a question.

“Again.”

I’m so sorry.

“You’re a hallucination, aren’t you?” Sunwoo’s shocked by how sad that makes him, how disappointing it is. “I’ve been hallucinating.”

Find me in the Cloud, Sunwoo. There’s something I want to say.

You’re gone by the time he gets to the hospital.

act iii. scene i.

Sunwoo stares at the hall of green doors, eyes darting from door to door in an attempt to stare down the shades until they confess which one of them is tea green.

“Clara, the landlord, likes colors.” A voice says from behind him. “Every couple of months she repaints all of the doors in different shades of the same one. Before the green, it was yellow.”

Sunwoo turns around to face you. When your eyes find him, they go blank for the smallest of moments. You give him a look that goes right through him, turning him inside out like you’ve seen the underside of his skin. It irks him.

“I’m Sunwoo. I’m new.”

You gulp. “You’re here.” He doesn’t know what to make of the statement. Do all people in the cloud act like this? “Why?”

Sunwoo nods, maybe you’re not so weird as much as you just have a weird way of posing questions. “I was told I’m sick.”

“I’m sorry.” You say, frowning like you actually might feel back for him.

“Have you been here a while then?” You nod. “Can I ask how long?” You shake your head. Sunwoo doesn’t think too much about it. Instead, he returns your earlier question “Why are you here?”

“Brain dead.”

“I’m sorry.”

You ignore it and point to a door down the hall. “I’m forest green. You?”

“Tea green. But I can’t find-”

You tap the door in front of him. “This one, genius.”

“Oh.” He laughs awkwardly. “Thanks.”

Your mouth parts as if to say something, and your face goes blank again. He feels his skin turning itself inside out because of it. “Have you read your file yet?”

He shakes his head. “I just got here.”

You inhale, softening, and mutter an ‘okay’. You continue down the hall towards your door. Sunwoo is stuck in place. “I can show you around here, if you like. Take you to all the cool places.”

Sunwoo takes you up on it.

A forest green door slams shut down the hallway.

act i. scene ii.

“Thank you for taking me out of the hospital.” Sunwoo says, exhaling. “I can’t remember the last time I’ve been to a park like this.”

And it’s true, he really can’t. He’s been sick for so long now, and has been through a multitude of treatment plans and too many surgeries. When you’re sick and have 9 surgeons turn you down after asking them to save your life, you forget the joy of being outside and feeling the sun on your skin. You were the first doctor to agree to the surgery. You’re the only doctor to have ever treated Sunwoo like he wasn’t dying, like he was actually going to live.

“You don’t have to thank me. This is good for me too.” You say, head resting against the park bench and eyes closed.

Sunwoo inhales, taking in the park with all his senses. A visceral sort of thing you learn to do as often as possible when you’ve been as close to death as frequently as he has. He feels the wood beneath his body and the grass beneath his feet. He feels the light on his skin and the wind pushing against his arms and nose. He listens to the kids screaming at the playground at the bottom of the hill and to the dogs barking within the dog park beside it. He takes all this in, relishes in it for the last time as a dying person.

You sigh. “One more surgery.”

“And then I’ll be done with this sickness.”

You smile. He pretends not to see. “And then you’ll be done.”

“Thank you for saving my life.”

“Don’t do that.”

“No. Seriously.”

You smile again, this time at him. Sunwoo doesn’t have to pretend not to see. “I haven’t finished saving it yet.”

He leans back against the bench and closes his eyes. “But you will.”

You tap on your coffee cup. “Honestly though, you did more work than me.” Sunwoo frowns while you take a sip. “The other nine doctors you called are good doctors, and they made the same judgement call I would have made for any other patient. No sane doctor would have agreed to treat you. But you were the reason I said yes. You had such faith that you were going to live and so much faith that I could do it that I believed you. I might be the one doing the technical saving, but you, Sunwoo, you’re the one who convinced me to do it. You saved yourself.”

He stares at you. The light hits your eyes like it’s finding a way to break through them. In truth, before Sunwoo got sick, he didn’t think he was scared of death, but he is. He’s terrified of it. Sunwoo realized it two weeks after his diagnosis and the day after he was wrongly told he only had three more months left to live. But now, for the first time since he was diagnosed, he doesn't feel so afraid of it. Despite how far he’s come and how close he is to beating this fucking illness, while staring at the light woven through your eyes, Sunwoo thinks he could live with himself if he dropped dead tonight.

That thought alone, is almost as terrifying as death used to be.

act iii. scene v.

“I saw your ghost, you know.” It’s the first thing Sunwoo has said to you in over two weeks. “It wasn’t actually you though, was it?” You don’t even bother looking up from your cup of tea. Through the silence, Sunwoo orders a coffee.

“I didn’t know that.” The coffee turns lukewarm. “It wasn’t me.” You push an uneaten half of chocolate bread towards him. “It’s in your brain this time. Symptoms can include hallucinations.”

“Think you can still save me?” You can’t. If you know that much, you know he’s out of medical miracles, and that this time, he really won’t survive it. But it’s a joke. And you laugh at it.

“Definitely not. I never really liked neurosurgery.”

And all at once, he’s painfully aware of your friend somewhere in the real world that does like it but watched anyways as your brain died before her, split wide open.

“Anyways, how do you know all of this?” But what Sunwoo really wants to say is brains are killer. Literally. Figuratively.

“I’ve known since we...“ you hesitate, mouth stuck halfway through a word he can’t place. “After last time, I read your chart and looked at your scans.” Sunwoo nods. He expected as much. He doesn’t ask how you got them. “I’m sorry you're sick again.” You say to him quietly. “I’m sorry you’re dying.”

“I’m sorry you’re dead.” As soon as the words have left his mouth, he regrets them. Because you aren’t. And he knows you too well to think you’d look past the technicality.

You scoff, shake your head slightly, and with a spiteful smile say, “Can I say it?”

Sunwoo only sighs. “Let’s start over instead.”

You nod. He pushes the chocolate bread back.

act iii. scene iv.

Mr. Choi was the one to recommend that Sunwoo give you and himself space. It’s been a month since you and him last spoke, since that moment hovering above the waves after he read his file and after he found out you read yours. He misses you, and has been for so long now. Mr. Choi was wrong. Sunwoo’s standing outside your forest green door to prove it.

You open the door before he can knock. There’s no shock in your voice when you say his name, like you’ve been waiting for this day, expecting it.

He looks behind you, at your apartment in Clara’s building that looks just like your apartment in the real world. The same one he cleaned out after you died, still filled with things he gave to your family or donated or took back to his place. He wants to crumble just looking at it again. “Can I come in?”

“It’s only been a month.”

And he knows what you mean by it. Three months is the recommended time off after reading one’s file. To reacclimate, they say, to process. But the insinuation that Sunwoo was supposed to go three months without seeing you makes him feel sick. The insinuation that after a year of being without you in the real world he was supposed to be without you here too, enrages him. Then he remembers how long you’ve been here, and how long you’ve been doing this and feels slightly murderous.

All he says is: “It’s been a lot longer than that for you.”

Your lip twitches. You lock and unlock the open forest green door five times before saying, “Are you sure?”

He nods. You let him in.

Sunwoo used to imagine what it would be like to meet you again in the Cloud one day. He imagined tears and hugs and kisses. He imagined i love you’s and i hate you’s and i miss you. He imagined the scenario more times than can possibly be considered healthy. But he imagined something. He was waiting for the day. Waiting for this day. But this moment, sitting at your round wood table while you boil water for tea, is nothing like the million different ways he imagined seeing you again.

And as you set down two mismatched mugs and take the seat across from him, he doesn’t even try to create one of them. “How long has it been since you read your file?”

You watch the steam rise from your tea for a long moment, then stand, grab the sugar and pour a spoonful of it into your tea. You take another spoonful and look at him expectantly. “Want some?” He nods, and you pour the sugar into his. You stir the tea then taste, then cringe, then add more sugar and then ask if he wants it. He refuses. You stir again. Sunwoo watches the whirlpool and waits the eternity it takes you to say: “I read it on my first day.”

You put the sugar away, satisfied with the tea’s sweetness while Sunwoo marvels at how long you’ve known and how silently you’ve been carrying the knowledge of you and him since he came. And that knowledge is what makes him finally remember one of the reasons he came. “Is there something you want to tell me?” You look up at him when he asks it, exhaling like you’ve been wanting to bring it up for so long now, which Sunwoo guesses isn’t as much of a simile as he thinks it is.

“Yes, actually. I…” you hesitate, flicking the mug as if the right words will come hopping out of the tea. Sunwoo watches for it. “I’ve just been here for a long time now, Sunwoo.”

“Two years isn’t that long.”

“Time doesn’t work the same here as it does down there.” You tell him tiredly. “It’s been decades.”

He doesn’t say anything.

“In the beginning, I didn’t mind the waiting. I knew you were on your way, but I just,” you hesitate, “I didn’t think it’d take so long for you to come back to me.”

Sunwoo covers your hand with his. “I’m sorry.” You twist your palm into it, squeeze, then pull your hand away. Sunwoo swallows. “I came as fast as I could.”

“I know. I waited.”

“Do you regret it?” Sunwoo’s terrified of what the answer might be.

You don’t give it. “That’s not what I meant.”

“Then?”

“I’ve been here for so long, and,” your head drops, voice breaking under the weight it carries, “it’s been so lonely.”

“But I’m here now.” Sunwoo says, leaning forward against the table. “You aren’t alone anymore.”

“I know you’re here. I know, and I thought that would fix it, but it didn’t. Seeing you in the hall that day was so bittersweet, because you were here but that also meant you were somewhere else dying. Because you were here and I still felt lonely.” You stop, chugg the remaining bits of your tea, and then wipe your cheeks. “Do you get what I’m saying?”

“No.” But it’s a lie. He does get it. He knows all about loneliness and the way it creeps inside, so slyly. The way it starts small and then grows, feeding on negligence, until it's too big for your body. He knows how it sits inside you, for all its enormity, and spills into everything. He knows how it lingers. How it has nothing to do with people or lack of them and everything to do with grief. Sunwoo knows all about loneliness. The day he read his file he felt a dam of it burst open within him.

“I’m saying that in the real world I saved you, and now it’s your turn to save me.” You gulp. “I’m saying that I want you to unplug me.”

It takes a moment for Sunwoo to even register what you’ve said, but when he does remember the life support that’s keeping your body alive somewhere in a universe far away, he doesn’t say anything. He just stands and walks out of your apartment.

act i. scene iii.

“Doctor, please present.” The attending announces, stepping into Sunwoo’s room for rounds.

“Mr. Kim,” a resident starts, flipping open his chart, “was diagnosed 14 months ago and has gone through several different treatment plans. When he came to us, the illness had spread and was deemed inoperable and untreatable by several other physicians. Our treatment plan was aggressive and grueling but ultimately, effective. Sunwoo is 20 days post op from his third and final surgery. The surgery went extremely well with no complications and his vitals were excellent. He has been a model patient all throughout recovery, and according to our latest scans, he is also now illness free…”

Sunwoo doesn’t even bother listening to the rest.

“So, now that I’m no longer a patient, if I ask you out on a date, will you actually say yes?”

“Well,” you say, signing his discharge papers, “only one way to know.”

“What is it?”

You look up at him, smiling. “Ask me again.”

He does.

You say yes.

act iii. scene v. take ii.

“I saw your ghost.” The first thing Sunwoo says after the last failed attempt.

You look up from your tea. “It wasn’t me.”

“I know.” Sunwoo orders another coffee. “But the hallucination was how I knew I was sick again. It made me feel like you were trying to warn me, like you were up here somewhere caring from a distance. Right after I pieced it all together you told me to find you here and that there was something you wanted to say.” The coffee turns lukewarm again. Sunwoo can’t bring himself to say it. You sigh and push the same piece of chocolate bread back towards him. This time, he takes a bite from it. And with a mouthful of chocolate bread, he cries, “I just got you back, and now you want to leave all over again.”

You frown. “I didn’t want to leave the first time, and it’s different now.”

“How?”

“I want to go. Isn’t that worth something?”

“And what about what I want?”

“Oh, Sunwoo,” you say, “I’m sorry you’re sick. The hallucination was you and your head, but for what it’s worth, I have been up here caring from a distance. I still…” you don’t need to say the words. He knows. He never had to doubt it. “I never stopped.”

“I’ve been thinking about what you asked of me.” Sunwoo tells you. He made the decision last week but today, right now, with your confession still falling through the air, is the first time he’s had the stomach to swallow it. “And I’ll do it. I will. I just need some time. You’ve had so long and in comparison I’ve had nothing.”

“Okay.” You say simply.

“How long can you give me?”

You smile. “You know I’d give you an eternity if you asked for it.”

“I’m scared.” Sunwoo confesses then. “I know it’s what you want, but selfishly, I don’t want to let you again. I don’t know if I’m a big enough person to do it.”

“I do.” You say to him, leaning forward against the table and looking straight through him. “I know because I was your doctor. I have cut inside your body, seen all your organs, and during surgery two, I held your heart in my hands. I felt it beating. So I know exactly how big it is, and I know it’s big enough for this”

Sunwoo feels the heart you worked so hard to repair bursting inside of him.

“God. Why’d you have to read your file so soon?”

You laugh. “I missed you. I couldn’t help it.”

And just like that, you’ve stolen the entire concept of fear from him.

“I’m ready.”

“What?”

He looks at you and feels the loneliness slither away.

“Ask me again.”

#sunwoo x reader #sunwoo scenarios #sunwoo imagines #sunwoo fanfic #the boyz scenarios #the boyz fanfic #sunwoo fluff #sunwoo angst #mine #*clouds

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mearcatsreturns · 3 years

Note

15 for Abby/Luka

For reasons ;)

Under a cut because it's long.

July 2003

To: Luka Kovac <“[email protected]”>

From: Abby Lockhart <“[email protected]”>

Subject: I’m drowning and praying ghosts are real

Dear Luka,

Something about knowing that I’ll never talk to you again is just unbearable. I’ll never laugh at your malapropisms, look into your beautiful eyes, feel your strong hands holding mine, or make love to you again. There won’t be any more jokes about jam and cheese on toast, or you teasing me for my weak but constant supply of coffee. I’ll never hear your amazing, deranged laughter after you prank someone again. No more of your hugs—which are somehow the best hugs in the world. Because you’re gone.

It’s been three days since we got the call telling us you died thousands of miles from home, whether that’s here in Chicago or in Croatia. I didn’t know your dad’s name, Luka. We needed to call him, and I didn’t know. How did I not know? And now I can’t. I mean, L’Alliance told us his name, but the fact that I’ll never learn pieces of your history, of the wonderful man you are, FROM you...how am I supposed to go on and live my life?

For years, I’ve thought medicine was my great thwarted love. I’ve wanted to be a doctor for so long, and I thought I was bitter about having to let go of that dream. Now I wonder. I let obstacles get in the way of pursuing medicine, and it’s made me...well, it’s part of why I was so unhappy. But that makes me think about how I also let obstacles get in the way of us. I was happy with you, you know, until I let fear and my mother and Carter get in the way. God, I wish I could do that over again. We could have had everything, and if I hadn’t gotten in my own way, I’d be happy. I think maybe I could have made you happy, too.

It’s funny. I knew things with Carter weren’t working, and he implied you were part of it. I said it wasn’t, but then five minutes later, I found out you were—are—dead. And I realized you were the reason, or one of the big ones. As soon as Chuny told me, I knew I loved you and had loved you for years. Yeah. Great timing, isn’t it? I keep thinking that maybe I could have kept you from going if I had known or if I had told you. I didn’t want you to go when I thought you were my very attractive friend and ex that I still was fond of. Knowing that I love you—how do I move past that? Knowing that I lost you, first to my stupidity and then to death?

I just...I miss you, and I don’t when I’ll stop, or how to. Susan caught me crying on my last shift, and I didn’t even know what to say. I feel like I’ve been crying or standing still, brittle and stuck in time, since I heard the news. I can’t, Luka. I know I have to keep on moving, and I thought maybe writing you would help. I know you’ll never see this, never have a chance to respond. But the idea that some fragments of your soul linger and can maybe sense...I don’t know. That I’m writing? What I’m feeling? Jesus, this is crazy.

All my love,

Abby

Abby angrily swipes the tears from her eyes. God, what’s the point of writing this? He’ll never see hsi email or her again. Just...without Luka, how can the world be anything but grim and sad and pointless?

She laughs mirthlessly. Maybe it doesn’t matter. No, she knows it doesn’t. Because Abby knows the futility of it, aches with the meaninglessness, she presses send without another thought.

&&&

Three days after that, a miracle occurs. Luka, the Lazarus of this new millennium, comes back from the dead. He’s never been dead, and maybe, Abby thinks, there’s a God above after all. So many people wish for this exact boon, and she—they, the world—gets it. Some higher power believes this planet is a better place with Luka Kovac in it, and Abby is ecstatic.

Until she remembers the email and that they can’t be unsent.

It’s fine. She’ll be fine. Luka is coming back, apparently with a French nurse. Maybe he’ll just delete it without reading it. Maybe it didn’t go through—how does email work for the dead, and how quickly is all that processed?

Abby shakes her head. It doesn’t matter; Luka is alive and returning to them. She can handle a little awkwardness in the face of the sheer joy of knowing the world is a brighter, kinder place. He’s coming back, and that’s what’s important.

&&&

August 2003

It takes Luka almost a week after returning to Chicago to convince Kerry and the other staff to let him go back to his apartment. Even so, they only agree when Gillian assures them she’ll see to his every need.

Abby winces when she hears that, and it makes something flutter in Luka’s chest. Which probably isn’t good for his malaria, but the hope...that is.

It’s another two days of lying in bed before he has the energy to ask Gillian to bring him his laptop. At this point, it’s been months since he’s checked his email, and Luka grimaces at the undoubtedly horrible state of his inbox. He briefly considers never checking again and just getting a new one, but he knows his father struggled to add him to his contacts once already. To expect it of him again would be absurd.

With a sigh, Luka opens his email. It’s just as bad as he feared. He snorts at the myriad messages about Viagra, Nigerian princes, and Russian brides, deleting them without thought. He saves a couple from his dad. He slowly whittles down his inbox, but he freezes when he gets to one email in particular, sent about a month ago.

It’s from Abby, during the time everyone thought he was dead.

Luka considers calling and asking her if someone hacked her email or is sending spam from her account, but the subject line...it looks real. And Abby’s been odd around him lately, seeming both deliriously happy to see him and awkwardly nervous.

His heart pounds, and he clicks to open it. If this is a spammer, they’re probably about to get whatever they want.

&&&

Abby pours herself another coffee, internally swearing as she prepares for the last two hours of her shift. Deciding to go back to school is great; having to coordinate all the details is less thrilling and leaves her tired and cranky.

Frank ducks his head into the lounge, beady eyes narrowing on her. “Hey, Abby. The Croat is on the phone for you. Line 2. Try to get back out there as fast as you can, Weaver’s yelling at the med students about IVs.”

“Okay, Frank,” Abby says, though she flushes and her palms start to sweat. It’s fine. She can always hide the panic and butterflies in her stomach with sarcasm. It has yet to fail her.

Frank gives her one last suspicious look, then nods and heads back to Admit.

Abby takes a deep breath, then picks up the phone. “Hey, Luka?”

“It’s me. Glad I could reach you. How are you?” He sounds...ugh. So good. And eager and happy, and her heart could leap right out of her chest.

“Doing all right. I just have a couple hours left on this shift, and it hasn’t been too awful today. Only one MVA. How about you? You feeling okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. Recovering. Listen, did you want to come over for dinner?”

“Please tell me you’re not trying to cook.”

“What? I’m a good cook, even if you don’t appreciate wonderful, traditional Croatian dishes,” he says with a chuckle.

“Luka, you just got out of the hospital five days ago. You still need to be resting.”

“Abby, don’t worry so much. I was just kidding. I have some sandwiches from Manny’s, and Anna sent me home with lots of matzo ball soup too.”

Abby bites her lip. Of course she wants to go. But the prospect of spending the evening with Gillian cooing over Luka, knowing that she shares a bed with him, is decidedly less appealing. And there’s the email she sent, which Luka hasn’t acknowledged. He might well have deleted it, or he’s giving her a gracious out.

Her conscience twinges as soon as she thinks about bailing, though. Didn’t she promise herself she wouldn’t take life for granted anymore? She’ll go back to med school, she’ll have dinner with Luka when he asks.

“Abby?”

She starts, realizing she needs to respond. “Yeah, sorry. Yeah, I can do that. I can be there an hour after my shift, if that’s okay.”

“Sounds great. Looking forward to seeing you.”

“Me too.” He has no idea how much, even if she wishes she knew for sure that he’d deleted the email.

&&&

Abby rings Luka’s doorbell three and a half hours later. She’d meant to come straight from work, but after a patient vomited on her, she decided to head home, shower, and splurge on a taxi to Luka’s. The poor man is recovering from being deathly ill and doesn’t need County’s fumes making things worse.

There’s the sound of the deadbolt sliding, and Luka answers the door, grinning happily at her. “Good, you made it! Come on in!”

“I did. Sorry it took me longer than expected.” Abby steps into his apartment, looking around. It’s been such a long time since she’s been here, and she notes the subtle changes in the art and decor.

“No worries. I know how it goes.” He places a hand at the small of her back, guiding her inside.

Abby stiffens for a second at how his touch burns even through the layers of her shirt and light jacket, but she relaxes, enjoying the feel while she waits for Gillian to appear and end the fleeting joy.

Luka is unfazed. “Now, of course we can just eat the sandwiches, but if you want to heat up the matzo ball soup, you can. Since you don’t want me standing,” he says with a wink.

Abby smiles back, shaking her head. “Oh, I see how it is. Make the woman who worked all day do more household work when she gets ho—wait, where’s Gillian? Isn’t she supposed to be taking care of you?”

“She’s not here,” he says simply.

Going to the fridge and taking out the containers of soup, Abby places them in the microwave. Is Gillian out for the evening, or is she gone gone? “Shouldn’t you be with her? Or her here with you, whatever.”

Luka is quiet for a long minute, and Abby wonders if he intends to answer. Finally, he breaks the silence. “I asked her to leave.”

Abby’s pulse speeds up. “What? Why?”

Luka takes a deep breath, clearly ready to respond, and—

The microwave dings, and they both jump. Exchanging a sheepish look, they laugh.

“Look, let’s get some food, and I’ll tell you all about it.”

Abby dishes up their soup and sandwiches, preparing trays so they can sit on the couch. Luka turns on the television, and Abby’s heart rate comes back under control. They sit together in companionable silence while they eat and watch Thom and Jai and the rest of the Fab 5 whip some hapless lawyer’s life into order. When they finish their meal, Abby cleans up, taking the trays back to the kitchen.

She heads back to the couch at the opposite end from Luka, not daring to get closer when she really has no idea what’s going on.

Luka clears his throat and mutes the TV. “So, yeah. I asked Gillian to leave.”

“Oh. So, um, did you break up?”

“She was never my girlfriend, really. She has a boyfriend back in Montreal, they just…” Luka shrugs and runs a hand through his hair.

Abby is more lost than ever. “Ah.”

Taking a deep breath, Luka continues, finally looking over at her. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m grateful she helped me get here and took care of me, but we were never serious.”

Something starts to tug at Abby’s heart, squeezing and twisting and kicking to get free. Is it...hope? “Well, I’m glad she got you here safe, but you should have someone staying with you while you recover, Luka. Malaria is dangerous.”

He gives her a look. “I know how dangerous malaria is. I’m getting better. And besides, it wouldn’t have been fair for me to ask her to stay when things are over because I’m in love with someone else.”

Her heart leaps into her throat. “Someone else?” she squeaks.

Luka nods, swallowing. “Yeah. And I have a reason to think she might be in love with me too.” He slides over to her side of the couch, reaching for her hand.

Abby meets his eyes—those beautiful green eyes that are the best color in the world—and squeezes his hand, incapable of words. Does he mean…?

With his other hand, Luka reaches up and cups her cheek, running his thumb along the subtle arch of her cheekbone. “Abby, if you’ve changed your mind since you sent that email, please tell me to shut up.”

That stupid, ridiculous email might be the best thing she’s ever done in her life. She leans into his hand, licking her lips as she shakes her head slightly. “I haven’t changed my mind. I didn’t mean for you to see it and hoped I could learn how to hack computers and delete it but—”

Luka cuts her off. “I would never forgive you if you managed to delete it. You wouldn’t believe how much faster I healed after that.”

Abby leans forward, sliding into Luka’s waiting arms. “Then maybe I’ll write you some more emails.”

“Emails aren’t what I want right now,” Luka says.

Funny, Abby doesn’t either. Then his lips brush hers, and all her worries and fears fade away. She knows she has to tell him about med school and he needs to finish recuperating, but when Luka deepens their kiss and pulls her closer, Abby ceases to think at all.

She has Luka back, and now they have each other again.

#er #nbc er #er ff #luby #luby ff #abby lockhart #luka kovac #<3 #my fanfic

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psychovigilantewrites · 5 years

Text

Don’t Call Me That Pt. 2

Wordcount: 10,129

A/N: I thought this part 2 would total up to 10k words, but when it hit 10k, I realised that I was only about 65 percent done. So based on the responses I got from tumblr, I decided to publish this first and then conclude the story later on!

TW: mentions of r*pe, mentions of torture, mentions of drugging someone (??) , mental breakdowns, vulnerability, descriptions of anxiety

Also, HERE’S MY FAV MEMES!! I’m so sorry that I can’t tag respective meme creators, because I saved them on my phone and some of them I forgot to include your usernames!! I’M SO SORRY!!! And honest to god is wear there were more but i must have lost them im so sorry im so incompetent lmao

memeesss

You glanced at your phone.

It had already been a week in Hawaii with your friends, and Jason still hadn’t texted you.

Well, you should have expected it, really. Jason was a traumatised, mentally ill man who had been locked away for two years.

Of course he wouldn’t text you first.

You had contemplated texting him over the past few days, typing in an array of messages ranging from a simple “hey” to a whole paragraph, and deleting all of it without hitting send. Did he even switch the phone on? Was he surfing the internet? Or was the phone still there on the shelf where you had left it.

It was driving you crazy.

“Do you have a boyfriend we don’t know about?” a voice called.

You looked up and squinted at the man who was standing up, looking down at you. You were sitting on the beach, a little further away from the ocean where your friends were.

“What are you talking about?” you asked as Alex plopped down next to you.

“You’ve been fidgety the whole time,” he pointed out, combing back his dark shoulder length hair with his fingers, getting sand in them. “We’re on a private beach, and you’ve been fussing over your phone. Who are you talking to?”

“No one,” you grumbled truthfully.

“The girls have been gossiping,” he gestured to the two other girls playing in the water. Your closest friends. It was four of you in that inseparable group.

“Of course they have,” you groaned, “Tell them to SAY IT TO MY FACE, COWARDS!”

You shouted at them, earning you grins and middle fingers from the distance.

“They’re saying you’re in love with someone,” he chuckled, “But they always say stupid shit like that without any evidence. But sometimes, a girl’s intuition is just right, ya know?”

“Stop beating around the bush, Alex,” you rolled your eyes at him despite knowing he couldn’t see past your sunglasses. “No, I’m not in love. I’m just waiting for a text that might never come.”

“Why don’t you text him first?”

“Because it’s not as simple as that!” you flailed your arms, “He’s… complicated. I can’t just text him anything.”

“Girl, unless he’s Mr. Nottingham, or related to you, then it really isn’t that complicated,” he joked.

“Ugh,” you groaned again, falling back onto the cloth you spread out. “Fine. I’ll text him.”

“Atta girl,” Alex grinned, “I’m gonna head back in the water. Join us after. Please?”

“Yeah, yeah,” you waved.

Opening the text window for what had to be the thirtieth time, you finally decided to text him.

You: Miss me yet?

Staring intently at the small ‘sent’ below your message bubble, you waited for it to turn to ‘delivered’.

“Yes!” you hissed. It meant that Jason had indeed switched on the phone.

But after twenty minutes you realised that it didn’t matter if Jason switched on the phone if he didn’t want to talk to you. Cursing to yourself, you decided to join your friends in the water, hoping it’ll distract you from checking your phone every five minutes for a text message that might never come.

After an hour of actually spending time with your friends, all four of you returned to the villa, your mood elevated. Checking your phone, you could have jumped for joy when you saw not one, but four consecutive texts in a row.

Jason: Duck off. Jason: What the duck Jason: WHY CANT I SAY DUCK Jason: I DUCKING HATE THIS

You couldn’t let out a string of giggles.

“Oooh, lover boy texted you back, huh?” Alex peeked over your shoulder. “Gimme, I wanna mess with him.”

He snatched your phone from your hands, surprisingly swift and smooth for a civilian, raising it way above his head so you couldn’t reach it and opened the camera.

“Alex-!”

He threw his other arm over your shoulder and pulled you into his bare chest, crushing you before you could tackle him down. He snapped a picture and sent it.

You froze in horror.

“Why the hell did you do that?!” you yelled.

“Relax, I was just messing around,” he gave your phone back to you.

“You don’t- you don’t understand, you fucking asshole!” you screamed.

“I- I’m sorry,” Alex stuttered, surprised by your reaction. “I was just-”

“Fuck off!” you snapped.

Panicking, you saw the little notification below the picture turning from Received to Read.

No. No, no, no, no.

This was bad.

You didn’t want to overwhelm Jason by sending him photos of your activities, thinking that he might react badly to the sudden surplus of familiarity and sense of being close to someone. Now you were worried that he might start to push you away in fear, reverting back to how he was before, and months of progress would have been all for nothing.

He would probably start swearing at you, or worse- switch off the phone and reject any form of communication completely. You hurriedly texted a reply.

You: I’m so sorry! I didn’t send that, my friend was just messing around.

Expecting the worst, you braced yourself for the inevitable. Instead, he sent you:

Jason: Who the hell is that guy?? Jason: Why are you in your underwear??

Your mouth hung open as you stared in shock at the screen. Because you took so long to recover from the shock, he sent you another message.

Jason: ???

Snapping out of it, you texted back.

You: That’s just my friend. Sorry about that! And I’m not in my underwear, it’s a bikini! I’m in Hawaii.

You waited for him to reply, but ten minutes of you sitting anxiously on the turquoise sofa in the middle of the villa listening to the waves of the beach outside from the open doors passed by, and he still hadn’t.

Perhaps he’s busy- wait. There’s no way Jason would be busy. You tried to coax him into a conversation.

You: You can turn off your autocorrect if you want to swear without hassle. Go to your Keyboard settings.

You plopped your phone on the empty seat next to you and dried your hair.

“Ugh, come on!” complained Natalie, fully clothed and washed, walking towards the open concept kitchen from her room. “You’re getting sand everywhere!”

“Woops, my bad,” you grinned.

“There’s a shower outside on the porch for a reason you know,” she flipped her blond beach waves at you, looking through the fridge.

Alex stood quietly at the kitchen island, now scared to say anything.

You rolled your eyes. “Just don’t do it again.”

“Okay, I promise!” he grinned.

Ding.

Jason: fuck. fuck. fucking fuck. Jason: found it. You: Proud of you, man.

You went to your room and showered, then dried off and put on fresh clothes while waiting for Jason to reply.

Of course, he never did.

Groaning, you had to remind yourself that he was not used to human interaction, and texting would come unnaturally to him. Which meant that you had to be the one to keep the conversation going.

You: Do anything interesting since I left?

You saw him typing almost immediately this time.

Jason: no.

Of course not.

You: Have you been eating properly? Jason: yeah.

God, it was so difficult. You were in the middle of typing something when he replied again.

Jason: yoire not my mom Jason: yoire Jason: YOIRE Jason: FUCK WHY CANR I TYPE

You felt guilty for laughing, but you did anyway.

You: Now that you switched off autocorrect, it won’t correct your typos and misspells anymore. Jason: i fucking knw that. Ive been gone for two yeard not twenty. You: Then why do you sound like a grandpa? Jason: BECAISE YOU GAVE ME A FUCKINF IPHONE!! I USED AN ANDROID!!

Now you were really laughing out loud, so you sent him a GIF of a woman rolling her eyes.

Jason: wtf you can send gifs throug text now?? You: Welcome to 2020, my dude. Jason: im not your fucking dude

Typing a reply, Jason interrupted you once again.

Jason: teach me how to do that

Smiling widely, you found that you couldn’t wait for the next week to pass by so you could go back and see him.

***

“How’s Jason?” you asked the minute you reached the Cave computers, panting from the run down.

“Wow, hello to you, too,” Dick chuckled, spinning towards you on the wheeled chair.

It was a Sunday afternoon, and Bruce and Dick were in front of the computers, discussing a case that had connections to Bludhaven Police Department.

Gone for two weeks, you had a lot to catch up on.

“According to Alfred, he’s doing well,” Bruce answered, “Even started to ask for seconds last week. Now Alfred has been making portions for two.”

“He asked? For seconds?” you gasped. “How?”

“He left a note on the tray two days after you left. He’s been making meal requests, too. Texts Alfred in the morning to let him know.”

“Texted?!”

“Alfred slipped his number on the tray in case Jason wanted anything specific.”

“I slipped mine as well, but he hasn’t texted me yet,” Dick pouted.

“When did he start texting?” you ignored Dick.

“Last Sunday.”

So the same day you started texting him, then.

“He hasn’t texted me,” Dick sighed, looking dejected like a kid who was told Disneyland blew up.

“He’ll come around, Dick,” you offered him a smile, “I mean- he’s already texting Alfred!”

“Yeah,” he lamented.

“Okaaay, nice talk. I’m gonna go see him now, bye.”

You ran to the box, but stopped right before you opened the internal door. After checking your hair with your phone camera, you tried to stifle the butterflies in your stomach.

Ugh, you were so fucked.

Taking a deep breath, you knocked on the door.

“Yeah,” Jason’s muffled grunt answered you.

Pushing it open, your eyes immediately went to the bed only to find that he wasn’t lounging around reading a book like you expected. Instead, your mouth dropped open when you saw him on the floor, doing push ups.

Shirtless.

Jason had changed drastically during the two weeks you were gone. You noticed that he had definitely gained weight, as well as muscle mass.

“Uh, wh-what are you..?”

He stood up, and you swore your heart skipped a beat.

His muscles were much more prominent and defined now, and he looked like he was going to achieve Dick’s physique if he kept it up for another month or two.

“Welcome back,” he simply said before taking gulps from a water bottle you definitely had not seen before.

“Thanks,” you walked over and sat on his bed, “I’m glad to see that you decided to start taking care of yourself again.”

“What, this? This isn’t for me.”

“Huh?” you cocked your head in curiosity.

“I… I lost a lot of muscle mass. My body- it isn’t how it used to be,” he frowned, “And I can’t have you lusting over it when it’s not at its peak.”

“What- what do you-?” you stammered, suddenly getting hot.

Jason merely smirked and then continued his push ups.

You watched as his developing muscles rippled, a thin layer of sweat making his skin glisten in the light. It was amazing how he had progressed so much in such a short period of time. You guessed that he must have just been occupying his days by working out.

No wonder he’s been asking for seconds.

“Enjoying the view?” Jason breathed, pausing with his arms straightened, his head angled upwards towards you.

“No, shut up,” you looked away.

“Here, be useful,” he started, “Sit on my back.”

“What?”

“I’ve gotten used to my own body weight, I need extra resistance,” he elaborated, “Come on, sit on my back.”

“But it’s all sweaty,” you whined, pretending to protest. Definitely pretending- for the sake of your own dignity.

You got up and went over towards him anyway.

Carefully, awkwardly, you sat on his back as you would a park bench. You rested your palms flat against his sticky skin to stabilise yourself. Suddenly, he dipped down without warning, earning a soft squeal from you.

“Fuck, you’re heavy,” he strained, but continued to do the push ups. He was shakier, struggling with the weight, and after twenty-five, he paused. “Okay, I think I’m done.”

But before you had the chance to get off him, he suddenly stood up, throwing you off his back to have you fall on the floor on your ass.

“Jason, you assho-” you clapped your hand over your mouth, realising what you had just said.

Oh, no. Oh, fuck.

He stood towering over you, his jaw clenching as he stared you down with his cold, blue eyes.

“I’m so sorry! I forgot! It was a reflex and-”

“Whatever. I don’t care anymore,” he rolled his eyes, reaching for his bottle.

You blinked. Then scrambled to your feet.

“You don’t care anymore?” you repeated slowly.

“I don’t care if you call me that,” he huffed.

That made your heart swell and melt at the same time.

“I got used to your voice,” he mumbled, expression changing as he looked away. He frowned, as if he was angrily staring at a distant object.

You had just guessed that he didn’t like to be called his name because of a sense of familiarity, but now you were thinking that there was much more to that than what you had originally thought.

“So, I can call you… Jason?” you tested.

“Yeah, call me whatever you want,” he sat on his bed, looking up at you.

You smiled, thankful that you had finally crossed that bridge. “You know, I could get some workout stuff for you? Weights, bands, that bar thing that you can put at your door frame for pull ups…”

“You’d like to see that, huh?” he smirked.

“You flatter yourself too much,” you scoffed.

“How was Hawaii?” he changed the subject all of a sudden.

“It was fun. Beach was great, locals were great, loved the vibe- what are you doing?”

Jason had stood back up and started to walk closer and closer to you, getting all up in your space like a predator finally cornering its prey. You kept on taking steps back until your ass hit the edge of the desk.

Nowhere else to run, your heart started hammering. He leaned in, his hands resting on the desk on either side of your body, trapping you against the table and himself. You looked up and gulped. You could almost feel the heat radiating from his bare skin.

“Are you afraid of me?” he muttered lowly.

“Why would I be afraid of you?” you whispered.

“You tell me,” he said.

“Well, I’m not afraid of you,” you stated.

“Oh really?” he raised an eyebrow. Then, you felt his hand grip your wrist tightly, pressing down on your skin with his fingers. “Your pulse is very fast for someone who’s not afraid of me.”

“It’s because you’re all up in my space!” you argued.

“Didn’t look like you mind when your friend,” he snarled the word, “was all up in your space.”

“My friend? What- oh,” you widen your eyes in realisation, “You mean Alex.”

“Is that his name?”

“Alex is just a friend, nothing more. He’s just someone I’m close to,” you reassured him.

Which then made you think about why you were reassuring him.

“Oh, you were definitely close to him,” Jason growled.

“Wait- are you… jealous?” a smile creeped your lips.

He scowled at you for a few moments, and you could see the little tics in his expression that said he was annoyed. The flared nostrils, the muscles of his jaw clenching and unclenching, the very slight twitches at the corner of his left eye.

“No,” he finally said, taking a step back from you. “I’m going to shower. Since you couldn’t stop staring at me, the invitation is still open for you to join.”

“You know, I’m starting to think that maybe I prefer it when you were broody instead of this. Please go back to your depressive mental state,” you sarcastically replied.

Jason barked out an actual laugh. Though his laugh was odd, like someone who’s only now discovering that humans were indeed capable of laughter, you found comfort in it. It was no longer hysterical and devoid of humor. He was getting better, learning to embrace a connection with someone, and it made you extremely happy.

“Maybe I should,” he answered with a cheeky glint in his eye, “Then that way you can give me more sponge baths.”

He left you alone in his room, flushed and at a loss for words.

***

“I find it very odd that people would yell ‘Batman!’ when they realise you’re there,” you rambled while climbing out of the Batmobile.

You were absolutely drenched from the downpour that had been going on all night. It was 4 am on a friday night and you had just returned from patrol.

Bruce took off his cowl immediately, revealing tired eyes despite the relatively slow night.

“It’s like they’re saying ‘Look at me! I’m here! Please knock me out or hang me upside down from the-’ Bruce?”

Bruce had stiffen, staring at something behind you. You turned around and was shocked to see Jason in the mid-distance, sitting on the ground outside the black box that was his room, leaning against the cool metal.

He himself was staring intently at Bruce, not even sparing you a glance.

You looked back and forth between the two men, sensing a high tension silent conversation.

Then, Bruce’s eyes relaxed and the corners of his mouth twitched upwards ever so slightly in that hardly-there-Bruce-smile.

He gave Jason one stiff nod of understanding, then walked away to the computers at the other end of the cave, leaving you alone with his son.

Jason relaxed as you walked over to him, wringing your hair to squeeze out all the excess water.

“Aw, you waited up for me,” you teased, standing in front of him with your hands on your hips, grinning away.

“Fuck off,” he snorted, “I was bored.”

You noticed him clenching his jaw as he looked at you from top to bottom, eyes lingering longer on the ‘R’ on your left breast.

Ah, it was his first time seeing you in your uniform.

His uniform.

Suddenly, you felt like an imposter in those colors and had the strong urge to rip the uniform off.

You wanted to say something, but Jason beat you to it.

“There were times in that shit hole where I wanted to burn that uniform off my skin,” he grit, “Kept on thinking to myself. I wish I never became Robin. I wish I never met Bruce Wayne.”

Your heart shattered at his confession. It was extremely rare for him to bring up anything related to his two year torture, and the previous times were never in such detail.

Realising you needed to say something, you opened your mouth. “I’m so-”

“Don’t,” he cut you off, “You don’t have to say anything.”

Yes, sometimes you knew that he just wanted you to listen.

You nodded silently and went to sit next to him on the floor.

“It… suits you,” he forced out.

“Hmm?”

“The uniform. It suits you. More than it ever suited me,” he grumbled.

“Oh, I don’t know about that. I think your ass would look quite nice in green,” you joked, nudging his shoulder with your own.

He chuckled deeply, nudging you back even harder- hard enough for you to lose your balance and topple sideways, earning another breathy laugh from Jason.

***

Another month passed by, and you found yourself falling deeply for Jason- much to your dismay. You knew Jason wasn’t ready for any kind of intense emotions, and that it would take a very long time before he was.

So you swallowed your emotions down, stifling them and hoping it would go away.

The two of you had developed a pleasant friendship, often bickering and joking around, with Jason teasing you about your obvious physical attraction to him.

He also now occasionally waited outside his cube for you to come back after patrol, never really venturing too far from it, and still avoiding contact with both Bruce and Dick. Only you and Alfred had the privilege to speak to him.

Even then, sometimes you would visit his room but only getting a “I’m not feeling it today. Please leave.”

Understandingly, you would nod silently and leave him alone. You knew he still had his bad days, sometimes not eating his meals.

But mostly, he was getting better, both mentally and physically.

With nothing much to do the whole day, Jason was now obsessed with working out and bulking up. He now had a few simple equipment in his room- mostly weights.

You figured that it was a coping mechanism for him, a healthy outlet to channel all his rage and negative emotions into.

But come on. He was getting even hotter and it was making it extremely difficult for you to stop yourself from checking him out, fantasizing about him when he wasn’t around. Still, you couldn’t complain. Even though he hadn’t reached Dick’s size yet, he was very near to it, and his naturally bigger body frame and build made up for the still developing muscles.

Hell, he was now sporting a six pack.

But you knew that he was still not as well as you hoped he would be. The bloodshot eyes he had was proof that he doesn’t sleep well- and you soon found out why.

It was a little past midnight on your night off from patrol, and you were using your break in the best way you could think of- by sleeping. Something woke you up that night.

A soft knock on your door.

You frowned, eyes still closed, wondering who it was.

Bruce would usually knock twice. Strong, clear, and with purpose. Dick would start pounding rapidly on your door, annoying you intentionally. Alfred would give three soft knocks followed by a ‘Miss?’

Your eyes flew open. There was only one other person in the manor.

Throwing your covers aside, you jumped out of bed and rushed to the door to open it.

Jason stood outside your door in the dim lights of the hallway, frowning and running his fingers nervously through his messy dark hair. He was wearing a t-shirt with boxers, standing awkwardly.

“Jason?” you hated how your voice sounded so sleepy. You cleared your throat. “Are you okay? Would you like to come in?”

He nodded silently, and you made way for him to enter before closing the door behind you.

“Sit on the bed,” you told him while jumping back into yours, sitting up cross legged.

The bed dipped when he sat on it, copying your motion and crossed his legs.

You waited for him to say something, your eyes straining to catch his in the dark. But he just remained silent, staring into space and avoiding your eyes.

“How did you know this was my room?” you asked, starting with a light topic.

“Only one that was locked. I already know where everyone else sleeps,” he explained.

“That’s right,” you realised, “I tend to forget that you’re probably even more familiar with the manor than I am.”

“Did you know there’s an old dumbwaiter in Bruce’s room?” you saw him smirk from the shadows that was casted on his face, “I used to hide in there, waiting to catch him off guard.”

“What? Why?”

“Dick and I, we had a bet,” he recalled the memory, “Whoever gets to surprise Bruce first would owe the other a special favor. Only rule was that we had to have it on video as proof.”

You appreciated that moment, the first time he ever spoke about both Dick and Bruce as a fond memory.

“I won, by the way,” he continued, “But- I forgot to press record on my phone.”

“Oh, no,” you groaned for him.

“Yeah, and Dick refused to believe me,” he chuckled, “That old man didn’t want to admit it either. But I swear- the look on his face when I jumped out while he and some model were going at it- priceless.”

Your jaw dropped, and then you burst into a fit of laughter, tears filling your eyes.

“You- you- you jumped out on him while he was having sex?!” you squealed.

“Yeah,” he grinned, “I didn’t even care that it sort of scarred me, because I managed to catch Batman off guard.”

The both of you laughed, his deep voice mingling with your own on that quiet night.

“I’m glad you’re here, Jason,” you smiled warmly at him.

But then, his smile fell.

“I hate my name now.”

“I’m sorry,” you began, “You said it was okay to call you that, so I-”

“No, it’s fine,” he started running his fingers through his hair again, “It’s just- I don’t know.”

“You can tell me anything,” you reassured, “It won’t leave this room. I promise.”

He looked at you, worry in his eyes. “Okay. Fine. Yeah.”

You waited for him to begin.

He took a deep breath. “I’ve been having nightmares. Almost every night. It’s always the same one.”

“You want to tell me about it?” you prompted him after waiting for him to continue.

“I hate my name because he said it a lot. Joker,” he scowled, “After repeatedly burning my skin for my name, it’s like that’s all he said. In that annoying, high pitched, sing-song voice of his. Jason, Jason, Jason. It made me hate my name. It made me hate hearing it.”

“I- I didn’t know how much time passed when I was in there,” he continued, “But, fuck. It was- it was hell. And the worst part was that I kept on waiting for Bruce. Waiting and hoping for him to find me and save me. I was so desperate. You- I-”

He choked on his words. His eyes were squeezed shut and his lips tight.

You wanted to reach out to him, hug him, tell him that everything was okay now. But you didn’t. You waited for him to collect himself so he could finish telling you his story, just like how he wanted to.

“Anyway, I- despite all that,” he sighed, “That was the only thing that kept me sane. I kept on clinging onto the hope that he was out there, searching. And that helped for a while. Until- until that happened.”

He was breathing heavily now, fidgeting more. Jason was definitely getting increasingly agitated the deeper he went.

“Fuck,” he breathed, “Fuck.”

The moment you realised he was crying was when he let out a sniffle. You automatically took his hand in yours, squeezing it as a form of comfort.

“It’s okay,” you told him, “You don’t have to tell me if you’re not ready.”

“No,” he shook his head, “I need to. I have to. I can’t take this anymore. Keeping everything in, I feel like I’m about to fucking explode.”

“Okay, then take it slow,” you said, “No rush. Anytime you’re ready.”

He nodded, eyes still closed, as if he was afraid of letting you see him cry.

“One night,” he began, “I think- I don’t know what was different- but I think something went wrong for him. Or right? That’s how it was. Tormenting me was fun, but it was also an outlet for him. But at the same time when he was happy, he also tortured me. He came to me, and- injected me with some sort of drug. That never happened before. He made sure that my head was clear whenever he hurt me so that I could feel everything he did.”

“But- he did- and- immediately, I felt weak,” he continued, “I mean, I was already weak. But my head. It was cloudy. I remember everything clearly, but it was like my brain couldn’t process it, couldn’t communicate with my body. I felt like I was looking out through a window that was my eyes- like I was in someone else’s body, experiencing someone else’s moments.”

“He released me,” Jason’s voice was now barely a whisper. “He released me from the ropes, and I fell to the floor. And then he- he- fuck.”

He let go of your hand and started pulling at his hair, rocking back and forth on your bed. He was sobbing now, his shoulders jerking up in sharp intakes of breaths. The only thing you could do was to stay silent and hold back your own tears.

You rested your hand on his knee, giving him a textile connection with reality so he doesn’t fall into his own thoughts.

“You- he- he- ruh- ruhp-”

Your heart sank to your stomach in horror as you realised what Jason was trying to say. It was as if you were plunged into icy water, chills running down your spine at the true revelation of what he had gone through in that cursed cell.

“Oh, no,” you breathed.

“He pushed me down,” he choked, “Pushed me down and climbed on top. I- I couldn’t even fight him. I was- I was conscious the whole time and I knew what was happening, but I couldn’t fucking do anything.”

Your tears were falling down now, both at the sight of Jason looking so vulnerable and fragile, and at his confession. Not being able to help yourself, you threw your arms over his neck and crashed into his hard body, burying your face in the crook of his shoulder.

His arms immediately wrapped around you, clutching you so hard it was painful as he buried his own face into your shoulder.

“And he kept on saying my name,” he said in muffled cries, “Jason, Jason, Jason. The whole fucking time. And- and I knew. He didn’t do it for pleasure. He did it to torment me. He- he didn’t even- he didn’t even finish.”

Jason sobbed into your skin for the next few minutes, his tears soaking through your night shirt. “But I did. Even though it was painful. Fuck, the pain was worse than anything he had ever done to me before. But- he- I- I fucking came.”

The both of you were sobbing now, his ragged breaths mingling together with your own on that quiet night.

His grip on you was tight, as if he thought that if he let go, you would disappear. So he clung onto you with all his might to keep you there with him as he recalled the horrific events.

“That's what broke me. I was so disgusted with myself. I hated myself. And he- he saw everything and- and laughed. He laughed so hard, I thought he was going to choke and die. I’ve never seen him laugh like that. And I remember every single fucking moment of being helpless on that fucking floor while he- fuck. Fuck.”

“And then he left. He left me on the floor bleeding and I never saw him again. And I went fucking insane. I tried to kill myself so many fucking times. So many times, I lost count. That’s what I dream about every night. His laughs, and his ‘Jason, Jason, Jason’.”

And that was that. That was the story.

The end of Jason Todd.

The both of you cried long and hard that night in each other’s arms. Eventually, you both lied down on the pillows together, underneath the covers.

“Please don’t tell Bruce,” he whispered to you.

Your head was on his chest, his big arms wrapped around your waist, your legs tangled with his.

You smiled at that. Even with the trauma, even with the sense of abandonment he felt, he still wanted to protect Bruce from knowing the truth.

Because the both of you knew that the truth would kill him.

“I promise,” you whispered back.

And then the both of you fell asleep together.

***

“Has Jason been sleeping in your room with you?” Bruce asked you on one fine Saturday morning at breakfast.

It had been about a week and a half since the first time Jason knocked on your door and poured out his feelings to you.

“He gets nightmares,” you tried to explain.

He thought that if he told you everything, the nightmares would stop. But it didn’t. But he then realised that the only thing that made it better was sleeping by your side, having someone there to wake him up from living his own hell in a loop.

“And do the two of you… Just sleep?” Bruce frowned.

“Yes!” you widen your eyes in horror at the insinuation. “Bruce! Come on!”

“I know you have feelings for him, and I’m sure he does for you as well. But I don’t think something like that is what Jason needs right now,” he stated.

“Yes, I know!” you groaned at the thought having that kind of conversation with him, “Jesus, Bruce. I know. I’m just there to wake him up or help him fall back asleep. Nothing more.”

Bruce nodded, deep in thought. “Has he… told you? About what happened?”

You pursed your lips. “Yes.”

“You’re not going to tell me?”

“No.”

“Hmm,” his frown went deeper. “I understand. He will tell me when he is ready.”

“Exactly,” you smiled, hiding the fact that Jason may never tell Bruce what happened. Never the full story.

“He still hasn’t left the manor?”

“No,” you sighed, “I asked him if he wanted some fresh air. Just outside the main door, not even going down the steps. But he refused. Told me to, and I quote, ‘Fuck off’.”

“Well, he’s only just left the cave, and it’s just to your room,” Bruce thought out loud, “It’s still progress. Especially since he’s been talking to you about the past.”

“He only spoke about it one time,” you said, “And then never again.”

“I see,” he hummed, “And you’re okay with him sleeping with you?”

“Next to me, Bruce, sleeping next to me,” you corrected.

“Yes, and you’re okay with that?”

“Yeah, it’s all good,” you assured him, “I can kick him out any time I want- but I don’t want to. He looks like a lost puppy sometimes.”

“An angry lost puppy.”

You chuckled at that and couldn’t agree more.

*** While Jason got the sleep he needed when he was next to you, it was counterproductive on your end. You had never been with anyone before, and definitely had not slept on the same bed with another man.

So to feel his body heat and breaths against your skin, his occasional light snores, it made your mind go on hyperdrive.

Most of the time, the two of you would just lie down, your back against his front, or your backs against each other, or both on your backs just staring at the ceiling- and talked. You would be the one talking the most, of course, about anything you could think of. You would tell him about your day, your patrols, something you read about online, or the current news.

But that one particular night during week three of him sleeping next to you, the two of you were silent. It wasn’t an awkward or uncomfortable silence, but the kind of silence that was pleasant and was better described as a peaceful quiet.

You had your back pressed against his front and his arm was lazily draped over your waist. It was a cold night, and you were wearing just a tank top and pyjama shorts, snuggling under the covers that went up all the way to your nose.

Shifting a bit while snuggling comfortably, you pressed yourself against Jason’s body to get more of his heat. But then, you were met with something poking against your lower back.

“Ngh, please ignore that,” Jason huffed.

Oh.

For some reason, you forgot that Jason was a physically healthy male who was capable of having sexual thoughts and feelings. All this while, you thought you were the only one.

“Are you- uh- is that- uh-” you stuttered, feeling your face flush with heat.

Feeling your body suddenly alert with excitement.

“Yes, it’s my fucking penis,” he grit almost angrily, “What, never heard of an erection before?”

“Of course I have!” you argued rather defensively, “It’s just- I’m surprised, that’s all.”

“Why?” he demanded, “You didn’t think I could get it up or something?”

“No, of course not!” you denied, “It just didn’t cross my mind, that’s all.”

A pause. Then-

“Well,” he sighed, “You wouldn’t have been wrong.”

Your mind blanked for a second.

“What do you mean?” you asked softly.

“It’s my- fuck- it’s my first time,” he confessed.

“Your first time getting an erection?” you gasped.

“No, you idiot,” he snapped, “It’s my first time getting hard since… since… then.”

Oh. Oh, you were an idiot.

“It’s just- after that- even when I was downstairs, alone and safe, I- I couldn’t,” he told you, “I kept on thinking back to that time and- and I couldn’t. I found it disgusting.”

And immediately, like someone doused you in cold water, any feeling of horniness you had when you first felt his erection against you disappeared. You just felt so sad for him, but also angry. Angry that he had to go through all of that, and angrier that there was nothing you could do about it.

“So, why do you think you’re getting it now?” you asked. Perhaps talking about it in an objective manner would help guide him through his thought process.

“Are you kidding me?” he scoffed, “You’re fucking pressing your ass against my dick, what did you think would happen?”

“Wait, what?” your eyes widen, “You’re hard because of me?”

“No shit,” he said, “You’re hardly wearing any clothes, too.”

You shouldn’t feel happy due to the circumstance and context, but there you were ecstatic that he found you attractive enough to pop a boner after so long.

“Fuck,” he sighed, suddenly pressing himself closer to you.

His hand that draped over your waist when to actually grip it. Then, then, he grinded his hard on against your ass.

“Mmm,” he rumbled deeply, “Feels good.”

There. That was it. You were once again flooded with the feeling of heat that pooled at your stomach, a tingling sensation started at your core. Feeling hot despite the low temperature of the night, you clenched your thighs together, needing the slight pressure.

“Yeah?” you whispered.

“Yeah,” he grinded on you again, and then unexpectedly let out a chuckle.

“What is it?” you smiled, loving it whenever you heard him laugh.

“I thought… For the longest time, I thought I was broken. That he broke me,” he revealed, “I thought I needed to get all Wingardium Leviosa on this little fucker.”

“Oh my God,” you laughed and groaned at the same time, “You’re so fucking embarassing.”

He laughed along with you and continued. “But now I’m hard and- and horny. You made me feel like I’m normal again. Like I’m sixteen again, and getting horny over everything.”

Sometimes, we take the normal things for granted. Food, shelter, clothes. In this case, it was a goddamned boner. In a way, Jason’s erection was symbolic- however funny it sounded. Getting your sexual appetite and need back after being so traumatised was a massive leap for many people who had experienced the same thing.

It meant that Jason was healing well.

“Does that make you happy?” you asked.

“Not particularly,” he admitted, “But I’m definitely not sad either.”

“That’s good enough for now, then,” you beamed.

“Yeah,” he breathed.

Another few moments of silence. You could feel it, his cock pushing into you. However tempted you were to push back and grind, you held yourself still.

“Uh, Jason?” you voiced.

“Yeah.”

“Do you want to like, take care of it?” you asked, “I mean. My bathroom is available. Or- there are many empty rooms.”

“No,” he simply stated.

“No?”

“No.”

“It’s kinda poking into me.”

“Just ignore it.”

“Ignore it?” you gaped, “How can I ignore it? You’re literally pressing it into my ass.”

“Well, then do you want to take care of it?” he teased.

You couldn’t argue back. “Fine, I’ll ignore it.”

He chuckled. “I’ll turn around.”

When he made the movement, you suddenly grabbed him by the wrist. “No, it’s fine. Stay here.”

You expected him to tease you like he usually would, make a crass comment, or even a ‘fuck off’.

Instead, he wrapped his arms around you again in silence, and the both of you drifted to sleep.

***

“Do you think this color suits me?” Natalie asked, holding up a floral red dress.

The four of you were at the mall in Diamond District. Now that high school was over, and everyone would be going off to separate colleges in a few months, you tried to spend time with each other as much as you could.

“Any color suits you, Nat,” you rolled your eyes, “You’re hot stuff.”

“Jesus, it’s like you’re shoving it in our faces at this point,” Sarah added, flipping her brunette hair to the side, tight curls flowing down.

“Aw, you guys,” Nat pretended to tear up, “I’m gonna miss you guys so much!”

“Not again,” Alex groaned, “We’ve been through this so many times.”

“I’m gonna be so miserable without you guys,” Natalie continued on, ignoring Alex’s interruption.

“I don’t know,” Sarah shrugged, “I think I’d enjoy New York. I can have pizza parties with the rats in my overpriced apartment.”

You chuckled at Sarah’s joke. Everyone was leaving Gotham except you. Deciding to continue with Robin, you opted for Gotham University- prestigious, old, and most importantly, close to home.

Your phone dinged in your pocket. You opened it to find texts from Dick.

Dick: OH MY GOD. Dick: I’m at the Manor. Dick: Was going to the Cave gym to work out. Dick: AND Dick: JASON IS HERE!!! WHAT DO I DO?!?!

That was new. Jason would usually just use whatever basic equipment he had in his room to work out. The fact that he was at the Cave’s sparring area where all the other fancier work out equipment were was out of the ordinary.

You: Just go. See if he reacts. If he suddenly stiffens and just stay there not doing anything, then leave. If he continues on, then it’s okay to stay- but don’t initiate anything! Dick: OKOKOK

You waited anxiously for Dick’s update. All four of you were now walking towards the food court, but you hardly listened to their bickering. Forty-five minutes passed before Dick texted you again.

Dick: OMG HE TALKED TO ME You: What did he say? Dick: He asked me to pass him his towel. You: That’s all he said? Dick: IT’S PROGRESS OKAY!!

Dick was right. It meant that Dick was now the third person Jason had spoken to. Adding another person to his list of contacts was definitely progress.

You were happy for him.

You:Is he still there? Dick: Nah he left Dick: But WOW he’s looking good. He must have been really going at it. I think he might get bigger than me soon You: All he does now is work out. He’s obsessed. Dick: Yeah I can tell

You decided to leave it at that for now and try to concentrate on your friends, but Dick sent another message.

Dick: ARE YOU TWO HAVING SEX?!?!

You spat out your drink, earning weird looks from everyone.

You: DICK!!!! WTF NO!!

Dick never replied.

***

“Can I ask you for a favor?” Jason asked, his voice breaking the silence of your dark room. The two of you were on your bed, lying down and staring at the ceiling.

“Of course,” you said. It didn’t matter to you what Jason asks for. He hardly ever asked for anything.

“Could you… Take me out tomorrow?” he requested, “If you’re not doing anything else, that is.”

“Uh, sure!” you nodded, surprised. “Where do you want to go?”

“Anywhere,” he shrugged, “It doesn’t matter.”

“Yeah, okay,” you hesitated, “But- are you sure? I mean, you don’t have to go so far so quickly. Maybe you should start with just going to the backyard?”

“No, I’ll be fine,” he insisted. “I’m not a kid.”

“Okay then,” you agreed. “Tomorrow.”

You kept on glancing anxiously at him the next day as he climbed into the passenger seat of your car. He was quiet, but looked perfectly fine.

Switching the engine on, you drove out of the garage and out the large automatic gates. Trees soon surrounded the lonely road on both sides as you descended downhill into town.

“So where are we going?” he asked.

“I thought Robinson Park would be nice,” you said. It was around three in the afternoon, yet Gotham was dark as though the day was ending. It was cloudy, skies grey and wind blowing.

“You’re taking me to a park?” he scoffed.

“It’s more quiet than anywhere else,” you reasoned with him, “Less people. Spacious. Lots of greenery.”

“Whatever.”

Reaching the parking space of the park, you noticed that there were a few cars. Mothers and nannies liked to bring children out to the park around that time. Joggers and teens, college students and retired elderly seeking a little escape from the high rise buildings of concrete and glass.

You turned the engine off and proceeded to open the door, only then noticing Jason stiffening. Looking over to him, you saw that his eyebrows were pulled down in a deep frown, his jaw clenched, his hands in fists on his knees.

You didn’t say anything or make any comment. Leaning back into your seat, you waited until Jason was ready.

About five minutes passed before he took a deep breath, gave you a nod, and then opened his door.

The two of you walked along a path at the park, going deeper inside and further away from your car. There were a few joggers around, some tourists, and some teens taking photos. You saw a group of kids in the distance playing frisbee, and the others were walking their dogs.

An empty bench stood in the middle of the park, overlooking a clearing. You headed there, Jason following closely behind.

“It’s a bit gloomy today,” you pouted, “As if Gotham could be anything other than that, of course.”

You looked at Jason.

He looked like a scared dog being brought out for the first time.

His jittery knees were bouncing rapidly, his wide eyes were darting at every movement, his forehead was covered with a thin layer of sweat, and his breathing was heavy.

“Woah, woah,” you reached out to him, putting an arm on his back. “It’s okay. I’m here. Just listen to me talk, yeah?”

“Yeah,” he gulped.

“Try to calm your breathing,” you instructed, “Deep breaths, Jason. In… out… In… Out… Yeah, see that’s great.”

“Yeah,” he breathed, now calmer. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” you smiled warmly, “You’re doing just fine.”

“No, I’m not,” he strained, “I feel like everything is too big. Too vast. The fucking sky looks like it’s going to crash down on me and at the same time suck me up into a void.”

“And despite all you’re feeling right now, you’re not breaking down or anything, are you?” you tried, “You’re okay, Jason. This is progress.”

“I guess,” he sighed, “I’m just- I’m so used to having four walls and a ceiling. Now everything feels too big.”

“I understand,” you empathized, “Whenever you want to go back, just say the word. Or we can even just go and sit in the car. No problem.”

“Yeah, okay, let’s do that,” he stood up.

The walk back to the car was faster.

“Fuck, I’m so fucking pathetic,” he said, running his fingers through his hair.

“No, you’re not,” you reassured him, “That was great, Jason. Come on, it was your first time outside in two years and a half. Cut yourself some slack.”

“I’m so fucking broken,” he choked.

“Don’t say that,” you scolded, “You’re not broken. And you know what, even if you think you are, we can always fix it. Baby steps. Maybe we can do this once a week. We were out for like, ten minutes? Next week we’ll try fifteen. How’s that sound?”

“Twice a week,” he stated, “I just want to be normal again.”

“Okay, twice a week, then,” you agreed, “We’ll try again in a couple of days, okay?”

“Okay,” he paused, “Thank you.”

“No problemo,” you grinned, “Would you like to stay here a bit longer or shall we go back?”

“Let’s go back.”

“Wanna stop by the diner? You can wait in the car while I ask for a take-away?”

“...okay.”

***

Jason and you had gone out twice more. Once three days after the first time, and the other a week later. The second time he went out, he lasted twenty minutes, though you were sure he was being stubborn on his part. He looked like he was having a heart attack, but he insisted on staying until he hit the twenty minute mark.

The third time, he was much much better. Surprisingly so. The two of you sat down on that bench for half an hour, with you even leaving him alone for a few minutes to get two ice cream cones.

After that, you took him for a drive around the city. He seemed to be more comfortable in the car, so you went all the way from Robinson Park to Diamond District, and back to the manor.

Bruce seemed very pleased with your update, and you swore you could see him actually smile.

“Thank you,” he had told you. “You’ve done more than I could have ever asked of you.”

“It’s no problem, Bruce. Really,” you reassured him.

“I’m his father. He is my responsibility. It’s my fault he’s even in that state. I wish I could do more for him,” he said solemnly.

“The fact that you understand what he needs is more than helpful, Bruce,” you smiled, “Not many parents can do that. You understand and respect him. That’s enough for now.”

He simply nodded.

Ever since your scheduled outings, Jason had become more and more relaxed whenever he was in the manor. He now walked to the kitchen on occasion to mess with Alfred while he cooked meals for him, sometimes sitting in the living room lounging on the couch while reading. Most of the time, though, he was down at the sparring zone of the Cave, working out.

But at night, he would never fail to knock on your door.

And at that particular night, you found yourself in the same situation again while lying down on your side with your back to his front, for the fifth time.

“You officially have to stop calling yourself broken,” you grumbled, “Because that thing poking into my ass is definitely not broken.”

He chuckled lowly. “You complaining, sweetheart?”

Oh, and yes. Jason now had started calling you ‘sweetheart’. Why? You had no clue. It was just a thing that happened. The look on your face when he first slipped it in was probably a sight to behold.

“No shit, I’m complaining, Jason,” you groaned, “You haven’t jerked off, yet? Not even once?”

“Nope,” he popped the P, “I just… I don’t want to… I don’t want to come.”

You sighed, understanding the situation. He had been disgusted with himself because he had ejaculated when Joker… Well, that. You hated to even think about it, so you always shoved the thought away.

“But unfortunately for me, I still get super horny,” he rumbled deeply, pushing his hips into you even more, “So fucking horny.”

“And then I have to suffer,” you complained.

“I can assure you, blue balls are more painful than something poking into you,” he bickered.

“It’s not that…”

“Then?”

“I get horny too, come on man,” you whined, “I’m a hormonal teenage girl. What did you expect?”

“You get horny too?” he whispered after a pause.

“Uh, yeah,” you admitted nervously. Somehow, the mood shifted, and your heart started drumming against your chest.

“Because of me?” he asked.

“Not you specifically, I mean,” you tried to back track, “You’re… Your dick pressing up against me like that, I mean, come on, Jason.”

“Simple question sweetheart,” he told you, “You get horny because of me, yes or no?”

You gulped. “Yes.”

Fuck, why did you say yes? You could have lied. You could have not answered.

“Yeah?” he breathed. You noticed that his hand was now on your hip, right above the waistband of your sleeping shorts, drawing circles onto your skin with his thumb.

You were nervous. The butterflies in your tummy was not helping you calm down.

“Yeah,” you squeezed your eyes shut, as if to protect yourself from anything he had to say.

“Fuck,” he groaned, gripping your hips and grinding his hard on against your ass even more. And did it… Fuck, did it get even harder?

Afraid of saying the wrong thing, and also out of nervousness, you remained silent. Jason’s chest rose and fall against your back, his respiratory rate increasing. His pinky finger slid underneath the waistband, testing the waters before slowly slipping his hand into your pants.

He went in so slowly, as if waiting for you to tell him no, to rip his hand away, to wrench yourself away from him. But you never did, so he went in deeper, caressing the skin beneath your pelvic bone, his heat just burning into you.

“You’re not wearing any underwear,” he commented, voice suddenly husky.

“I don’t wear them to bed,” you informed him.

“You mean to tell me,” he growled, “That all this while I’ve been sleeping next to you and you never had your panties on?”

“It’s more comfortable that way,” you mumbled.

“Jesus Christ,” he cursed. “Thank God I never knew. Would have been torture, and trust me, I know what I’m talking about.”

“Jason,” you gasped.

“It’s true,” he said, “Damn, sweetheart.”

He went lower, closer to your center.

Your core was tingly, small pulses of electricity buzzed through your body as Jason came closer and closer and closer and-

He slipped his hands between your closed thighs and cupped you.

“Mmm,” he moaned softly, “Warm. Fuzzy.”

“Fuzzy?” you laughed, even though you felt like screaming on the inside. Screaming for more.

“Yeah,” he mumbled, burying his face into your nape, taking a deep breath. “You smell nice.”

Oh, shit. You totally forgot about Jason’s aversion to strong smells.

“I’m sorry!” you quickly apologised, “I can switch to an unscented shampoo as well so it wouldn’t be too strong for you.”

“It’s fine,” he said, “I like it on you.”

He ground his hand into your center harder.

“Mmpf, Jay,” you breathed, “What are you doing?”

“I don’t know,” he confessed, “I’ve never touched a girl like this before.”

“Really?” you widen your eyes in surprise.

“I was kept in a cell for two years, I couldn’t exactly talk, let alone touch, anyone can I?” he quipped.

“Right.”

“Teach me,” he said.

“What?” you whispered despite knowing what he meant.

A pause of silence. A deep intake of breath, a slow exhale.

“Teach me how to touch you,” he purred.

Fuck, you felt like exploding.

“Are you sure?” you asked.

“Yes. If you… If you want to.”

Your mind quickly tried to analyse the situation. Bruce had specifically said that Jason didn’t need any complicated matters in the relationship. It made sense. You didn’t want to overwhelm Jason with any confusion or uncertainty.

But at the same time, you’ve been figuring out how Jason thought, bit by bit. He’s told you many times that he just wanted to be normal again, to feel normal, to do normal things. And this was something that was normal, that he should do, that he wanted to do.

And you knew that he probably would take the rejection even worse.

“O-Okay,” you agreed.

Slowly, you separated your thighs, raising the one on top and hooking it over his legs behind you. Due to your shift in position, you felt the minute Jason’s fingers dip slightly into your folds.

“So, uh, this is my first time with a guy as well,” you squeaked, “But I’ll try to guide you.”

You licked your lips.

“Uhm, well, I guess you can start by running a finger up and down between my- oh! Yes, just like that.”

His middle finger slid down to your opening, and then up again slowly. His movements were uncertain, brushing only slightly against your clit unintentionally.

It was different, having someone else touch you. Somehow, despite the inexperience, it just felt better.

“Holy fuck,” he gasped, “You’re so fucking wet. Do you usually get this wet?”

You felt your cheeks heat up. “No? Yes? I don’t know! I can’t feel it.”

“Shit.”

You let him play with you some more, his fingers sliding up and down, sometimes pressing against your fleshy parts, sometimes circling and gathering your wetness, sometimes just parting your lips. Hell, he even tapped the tips of his fingers on you randomly or brushed into your delicate fuzz. You knew he was just exploring, feeling you for the first time.

And that thought made you smile and sigh.

“Teach me how to make you feel good,” he rasped.

“Uh, so your fingers are wet, right?”

“Yeah. Because you’re leaking all over them.”

“Okay, good. Now find my clit. It’s slightly above your finger, okay, to the left a bit. More. Okay, there! Yeah, right there,” you sighed, finally feeling that delicious pressure.

“Here?”

He tapped your clit.

“Ah!” you moaned, “Yes- but don’t just- nevermind, just gently circle it. Clockwise.”

He obeyed, and hell since when did Jason just obey?

He circled you gently, like you said. But he also went so, so slow.

“Faster, Jay,” you panted.

He went faster, making you groan in pleasure.

“Like this, sweetheart?” he muttered, his voice low and cracking, and sexy, and husky. You’ve never heard him sound like that before, and it drove you wild.

“Yeah,” you breathed, “Yeah, just like that. Fuck.”

“Feel good?”

“So good, Jay. Press a little harder now- fuck. Fuck. Yes, perfect. Just like that.”

The pressure built as his fingers did their magic.

“You- you’re surprisingly good at that,” you stuttered, “You sure- mmm- you sure you’ve never done this before?”

“Despite what you think,” he husked in your ear, warm breath tickling you. “I’m very good at following instructions.”

“I can see that.”

“But I’m also good at improvising.”

“Wha- oh. Oh. Fuck! Jason! Oh my fucking god!”

He started pressing even harder, and going even faster, throwing away the slow build you were going for and instead pushing you towards orgasm fast and hard, as if he was determined to prove something to you.

“Feel good, sweetheart?” he purred, “You gonna come soon?”

“Oh my- fuck, yes! Fuck, don’t stop!”

“You want to come for me?” his deep voice rumbled.

“Yes!”

What the hell? When did he learn how to talk like that?

Because with the mix of his heavy pants, his low voice coaxing you, his barrage of pleasure at your clit, you felt the familiar tightening of your core. You threw one hand back and found his hair. Running your fingers through them, you gripped them tight and pulled.

You pulled on his hair as he forced the orgasm onto you.

“Oh my God. Jason, I’m gonna- fuck- I’m- fuck- ah!”

You moaned loudly as you felt your walls flutter, clenching over nothing as you reached your high.

“O-okay, stop, fuck,” your hand went from his hair to his wrist, stilling him. He withdrew his hands from your pants, and went to grip you tight again by the waist.

“Fucking hell, sweetheart,” he groaned, grinding into you. You pushed your ass back, feeling his hardened length against your flesh in your post-orgasm bliss. “Jesus, that was so hot.”

“That was- yeah,” you giggled, “Fuck.”

His face was still buried in your neck. You could feel his lips on your skin.

“Uhm, I can, you know,” you sputtered, “Try to help you out?”

“It’s fine,” he breathed, body still tight against yours, “Just go to sleep.”

“Are you sure?” you asked again, feeling guilty that he didn’t get off. “I don’t mind.”

“I do,” he said, “It’s okay, sweetheart. That was great. I enjoyed that. I told you, I don’t want to come.”

“Okay,” you sighed.

“Go to bed.”

“Thank you, Jason.”

“Fuck, I’m so horny.”

“Jason,” you whined, “Really, I can help-”

“I’m kidding,” he chuckled, “Goodnight.”

You pursed your lips.

“Goodnight.”

#jason todd x reader #jason todd #red hood #robin #jason todd imagine #dont call me that

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simplybakugou · 4 years

Text

How can I love the heartbreak, you’re the one I love

↝ Years have passed since Bakugou met you and yet you’re all he ever thinks about. As he reconnects with you after all this time, he can’t help but reminisce on all the moments you spent with him, especially those suffocating and troubling days in the hospital in room 405.

SONG: How can i love the heartbreak, you’re the one i love by AKMU

⋆ PAIRING: bakugou x female!reader ⋆ WARNINGS/TAGS: swearing; angst; hospitals ⋆ WORD COUNT: 14636

A/N: So I initially was going to make this a fic but that shit FLOPPED so i’m just breaking this into different sections. Also, I’ve spent WEEKS trying to write this so please let me know what you think! (plus this is the longest thing I’ve ever written omg).

It’s based off of AKMU’s song. This song is so beautiful and the link to the song is here. I also decided to remake my short fic about terminally ill s/o from a while ago and incorporate that in as well.

Also thank you @bnhabadass for your editing suggestions and especially thank you to @k-atsukidayo. I love you Fey, and thank you again for giving me such amazing suggestions and making this so much better!

Tagging: @freckledoriya

✐posted 05.11.2020✐

❝I purposefully take a few steps back, I look at you walking without me

There is a void beside you upon the gray road you look back❞

The weather was perfect. The breeze was subtle but still strong enough to send chills down Bakugou’s spine as he closed the door to his home behind him. He moved to shove his hands in his pockets, having to put one arm up to shield his eyes from the sun glaring down at him. He sighed as he continued along the brick path, squinting down the road.

The path was crowded and filled with all kinds of people: parents walking with their kids, couples walking hand in hand, and dogs roaming around with their owners. They were all looking up at the same thing: the cherry blossoms. The wind was perfect in assisting the blossoms as the fallen flower petals danced rhythmically against the breeze. They travelled down the path, as if they were leading Bakugou to you.

A few kids in U.A.’s uniform began running down the path, running after the petals. Bakugou couldn’t help but move the corners of his lips upwards, reminiscing on a time that felt like centuries ago.

The time when you were always by his side.

~~~

Bakugou’s leg wouldn’t stop shaking vigorously. His arms were crossed over his chest as he constantly kept checking his watch. You were late…

“If this shitty girl doesn’t show up in the next five minutes I’m getting the fuck out of here,” he grumbled under his breath.

As if you were summoned by his pure rage, you pushed open the doors to the little cafe, scanning the tables to find a certain enraged blonde. After finally locating him, you bowed your head slightly, clapping your hands together. “Forgive me! I’m really sorry.”

Bakugou felt his brow twitch. “You better have a good fucking reason for making me wait. You were the one who wanted help with studying.”

You slung your bag onto the chair next to you, sitting yourself down beside it. You reached into your bag, pulling something out. Leaning on the table, you rested your elbows on the surface. “Have you been to the brick path near school?”

“What?”

“Give me your hand.”

“What the fuck are you trying to do?”

“Just give me your hand!”

Bakugou sighed, rolling his eyes as he complied, extending his hand out in front of him. You placed the item, covering it with your hand cupping over it. “Well, that brick path has all of these beautiful cherry blossom trees. And I was just looking at them ‘cause they finally bloomed and I thought of you!”

You lifted your hand, revealing a few blossoms that you had plucked. Bakugou felt his cheeks burn up, looking the other way to avoid your gaze. “Whatever. Why the fuck would you think of me while looking at some fucking flowers?”

You shrugged, smiling. “I dunno. You were the first thing that came to mind.”

Bakugou moved his hand over, letting the flowers fall onto the table. He opened his English textbook, flipping to the middle. “Let’s just get this over with. We’re in our final year now, there’s no time to fuck around.”

***

A few months had passed since that day that you and Bakugou were preparing for midterms. You kept spending a majority of your evenings with him, using the excuse of needing his intelligence and tutelage in order to pass your classes. He would never admit it, but he enjoyed your company no matter how annoying you could get sometimes. You were just always so joyous, like you could beat the sun’s rays with your own light.

Aizawa continued teaching the class as everyone diligently paid attention. Months ago, a time in which Bakugou hadn’t spent so much time by your side, he would’ve been able to pay attention as well. But here he was, his eyes glued to your empty desk. You had asked to go to the bathroom in the middle of class. An hour had passed and you were still gone.

Aizawa looked at the clock, noticing Bakugou’s busy eyes glued to your desk. He then realized how long you had been gone. “Ashido, go check on Y/N,” Aizawa said, his back to the class as he wrote something on the chalkboard.

Mina nodded, getting up and leaving the classroom. Minutes had passed and Mina hadn’t returned either. Bakugou felt his leg shake up and down as his anxiousness only grew. What the hell is happening?

Mina finally came back, a panicked look on her face. Aizawa recognized this, pulling her out in the hallway and closed the door so the class couldn’t eavesdrop on the conversation.

“What’s that about?” Jirou asked from her seat beside Bakugou.

Kaminari shrugged from beside her. “I’m not sure but it doesn’t look good. Hopefully nothing bad happened to Y/N.”

The rest of class went painstakingly slow. Mina couldn’t focus for the remainder of class either, her eyes fixated on the clock. Everyone wanted to ask so many questions but refrained from doing so. Finally class had ended and Bakugou didn’t hesitate to approach Mina. Kirishima, Kaminari, and Sero followed, crowding around Mina’s desk.

“What the fuck is going on?” Bakugou demanded.

“Yeah, is Y/N okay?” Kirishima asked.

Mina had her head down, hesitant as she began to speak. “I thought Y/N was just sick which was why she was taking such a long time. But when I went in, she collapsed on the floor. I think she hit her head when she fell, too, because there was blood--”

“Where is she now?” Bakugou interrupted.

“Recovery Girl transferred her to Meijo Hospital a few blocks down,” Mina responded.

Bakugou didn’t hesitate to run out of class, his feet moving faster than he could control as if they were moving on their own. He could faintly hear his friends calling out for him but he ignored them and managed to get out of the building as fast as he possibly could, his eyes locked onto the silhouette of the tall hospital building.

He couldn’t understand why he felt something inside of him snap when he had heard that you were hurt. After all, you transferred to U.A. at the beginning of your final year. You were an outsider and you didn’t know if you would be able to assimilate into class A. But, fortunately for you, Mina was the first friend you made, inviting you to hang out with her friends often. Kirishima, Kaminari, and Sero practically opened their arms to you when you first met them. But your eyes were always drawn to the sulky blonde headed boy with the permanent frown on his face. The day you met Bakugou, you made it your mission to pester him and get close to him. Initially, Bakugou had found you to be the most irritating person he had ever had to deal with. But as the time went by and you were practically always by his side to the point where your classmates thought you two were dating, he began to oddly enjoy your company.

Bakugou ignored the stares he got from bystanders as they stared at the kid in the U.A. uniform running towards the hospital. Once he did reach it, Bakugou went straight to the front desk. “Is (L/N) (F/N) here?”

“One second,” the receptionist said, looking through her files. “Yes, she’s in room 405.”

Bakugou immediately moved towards the elevators until he noticed the long line of people patiently waiting. He cursed under his breath, running towards the stairs. His feet moved as fast they could, skipping steps all the way up until the fourth floor. His eyes began roaming rapidly at the numerous rooms in the hallway, finally reaching 405. He slid open the door, panting as he attempted to catch his breath. His eyes widened at the sight before him.

You were sitting upright on the hospital bed, a bandage around your forehead. An IV drip was attached to your forearm. You flinched at the sudden sound of the door sliding open, turning your head to the source of the sound. Your face lit up at the sight of your closest friend visiting you, your lips turning upwards. “Katsuki.”

Bakugou sighed, finally able to catch his breath. He glared at you. “You fucking idiot. What the hell happened? Why’d you collapse?”

You smiled sheepishly, rubbing the back of your neck. “It seems I overworked myself. My quirk takes a lot out of me, you know.”

Your quirk, Flame, was pretty simple, just being able to expel flames from your body. But with finals and graduation creeping around the corner not to mention that you had only transferred to U.A., you felt that you had pushed yourself to keep up with everyone around you. Ignoring your health was foolish but you wanted to become a pro hero even if it was the last thing you could do.

“But I promise that I’m fine. I promise that I’ll get better before you know it.” Bakugou rolled his eyes at your foolishness. You patted the cushion of the chair that was beside your bed. “Can you stay for a while and tell me what I missed in class, Katsuki?”

“How many fucking times do I have to tell you to stop calling me by my first name? You’re the only one who does that shit!” You snickered, ignoring his words. Bakugou sighed, complying anyways as he sat down. He dropped his book bag beside him and pulled out his notes and spent the rest of his visiting hours helping you as best as he could.

~~~

Bakugou smiled at the kids in their U.A. uniforms as the memory of the two of you in that hospital room replayed over and over in his mind. It was the start to a new budding romance and yet you were damned from the start.

If Bakugou could take it all back, he sometimes thinks that he would. The pain and suffering he had to endure once meeting you was a feeling he wouldn’t wish upon even his worst enemy. But everytime he thinks he would’ve been better off without meeting you, he knew he wasn’t fooling himself with such a lie. You were always on his mind ever since the day he met you back in U.A., like you had casted a spell on him since the beginning.

And after all these years had passed, you were still charming him. You’re still the only thing on his mind.

❝Just then, I realized that I can never leave your side

No matter the distance and the problems that we faced, it's easier to fight against than the thought of letting go

So, tell me now, how can I love the heartbreak when you’re the one I love

To give you up because of love or from the heartache and pain, oh my heart, that's something I can never do❞

As Bakugou walked down the brick road, his phone vibrated in his pocket. He pulled it out, answering the call and brought the device to his ear.

“What?”

“Hello to you, too,” Kirishima said with a laugh. “I was just calling ‘cause I don’t see you at the agency today. Kaminari, Sero, and I were coming by to see if you wanted to catch up after all this time. It has been two years since we’ve talked about our lives other than work, ya know.”

“I took the day off. I’m gonna spend it with Y/N.”

Kirishima paused for a moment and sighed. “After all these years, you’re still ditching us to see her.” His tone was light so Bakugou knew he was only teasing him. “I get it. It’s been years since you’ve seen her. We’ll catch up another time.”

“Thanks… for understanding.”

“Don’t mention it, man. Say hi to her for me.” As he hung up, Bakugou couldn’t help but feel a strange tug in his chest, as if there was a fire burning inside him. Everytime he thought about you, you always made him feel that way and the way you always “promised” to get better. Promise. That was your favorite word. You always made promises that you knew you couldn’t keep. Bakugou couldn’t help but reminisce on all the times you made such foolish lies. You were better off becoming an actress than being a hero, being too foolish to be a hero. A foolish hero that cared more about others than her own health.

~~~

“Don’t forget the food!” Mitsuki yelled from the kitchen as she pushed piles of bento wrapped in furoshiki into her son’s hands. “Oh! And she’s probably bored in there so I got her some magazines.” She opened up Bakugou’s bookbag and shoved the magazines inside.

Bakugou groaned. “You’re going overboard. She’s gonna think I’m fucking insane.”

Mitsuki flicked her son upside the head. “No, she’s gonna see how much you care for her. Now get out!”

She practically shoved her son outside, slamming the door shut. Bakugou grumbled under his breath holding the furoshiki in one hand and shoving his other hand in his pocket. The sun was beaming down on him and the cloth in his hand made his palm sweat. The several children playing around outside irritated Bakugou, especially when they started to stare at the now infamous class A hero in training. Nevertheless he ignored them, thankful that Meijo Hospital was so close to his house.

He entered the building, the nurses and receptionists greeting him as he was now a frequent visitor. They whispered amongst themselves, fascinated that among your classmates and friends, Bakugou was the only one who never failed to see you every single day, no matter how busy he was with finals and graduation.

Once the elevator reached the fourth floor, it was like second nature by now for Bakugou’s feet to take him to room 405. He slid the door open, surprised to see your bed empty. One of the nurses turned around as she was changing the sheets on your bed. “Oh, Bakugou. If you’re looking for Y/N, she’s on the roof.”

Bakugou was puzzled. “The roof? The hell is she doing up there?”

The nurse laughed at his reaction. “She wanted some fresh air. She’s been holed up in this room for months so we let her spend some time up there.”

Bakugou nodded, closing the door as he made his way back to the elevator. Truthfully, it had been months since you were first admitted to the hospital. No one told Bakugou why you were in there, and everytime he asked you about it, you would quickly change the subject. It was quite obvious that there was something you were hiding, especially since even the nurses and doctors never told Bakugou anything. There was no way that overexerting your quirk could make you hospitalized for all this time.

Bakugou pushed open the door to the roof with his foot, shielding his eyes with his free hand from the beaming sun. He could barely see from the sun’s fierce rays but through slit and squinted eyes, he could make out your back. You were facing away from him, looking down below the building. He walked closer to you, setting down his bag and the food gently so he didn’t scare you. Leaning forward, he rested his forearms on the ledge on the concrete, looking down at what you were engrossed in.

The height of the enormous hospital building allowed you to see for miles upon miles of buildings and freeways. U.A. was at the epicenter of all of the attention, the school standing tall amongst the smaller buildings. But amongst all of the chaos of the city, there was a brick path, which was elongating throughout the city. Among that path, rows upon rows of cherry blossom trees decorated the edges as if meticulously laid out like ornaments.

You finally took notice of Bakugou's existence, flinching a little at his sudden presence. “Katsuki? I didn’t even hear you come.”

Bakugou gestured to the view below you. “Probably ‘cause you were too focused on this.”

You smiled, resting one forearm on the ledge due to your other arm being connected to the IV drip. “It just looks so pretty. The trees stand out so much, especially all the pink petals floating around.”

“Only you’d pay attention to something so dumb.”

You jutted out your bottom lip in a pout. “You’re just a debbie downer and can’t appreciate life in all its glory.”

Bakugou rolled his eyes at you, but noticed how your knees began to tremble as you gripped tighter onto the IV stand for support. Before your legs caved in, nearly crashing onto the concrete, Bakugou sprung quickly into action. He caught you, protected you, one arm grabbing your hip and the other circling your lower back. You were flustered, not only from the sudden contact, but from the weakness of your limbs.

Bakugou fought off the urge to look away from how close the two of you were, focusing on maneuvering you over to one of the benches that were laid out on the rooftop. “Are you okay?”

You blinked, as if you were taking yourself out of a trance from the shock. “I’m… I’m fine.”

Bakugou felt his cheeks burn up as he thought about what he just did and as a way to take his attention from that, he decided to confront you with a question he so desperately wanted to know the answer to, “Why are you really here for? There’s no way using your quirk too much can make you fucking collapse like this.”

You pursed your lips together, wheeling the IV over to the side of the bench. “It’s actually complicated. I’ve always been sick since I was a kid so this happens sometimes.”

“Sometimes?”

You nodded. “It’s happened before but I always bounce back up, I swear. You don’t have to worry about me, Katsuki.”

Bakugou scoffed, looking the other way. “I didn’t say shit about me worrying. The others kept annoying me and asking questions about, s’all.”

You laughed, knowing Bakugou’s behavior all too well. “Speaking of, why’d you visit this time?”

“Alright, I’ll just fucking leave then--”

“No!” You said, laughing as you grabbed onto his forearm and pulled him back down next to you. Your touch was cold against his warm skin “I wasn’t complaining. I really do enjoy your company.”

“Tch, you better.” He leaned down and grabbed the furoshiki and his bookbag. “I didn’t have my old hag pack you all this food and take more notes for you for nothing.”

“Your mom cooked for me again?” You asked, your mouth watering already despite not even consuming Mitsuki’s delicious food yet. “You really don’t have to do all this for me, I’m alright, I swear.”

“‘Alright’ my ass. I’ve told you before that I don’t mind doing this and I’m not just gonna stop because you feel bad.” He pulled out his notebooks, ignoring your groans. Finals were around the corner and then came graduation. Bakugou, although he would never admit it to you, was concerned with what you were planning to do here on out. No matter how many times you tried to convince him and tell him that you were going to get better soon, he couldn’t believe you.

A gust of wind past as you felt your (H/C) locks sway along with its rhythm. The pages to Bakugou’s notebooks turned rapidly. You let out a gasp as the wind died down. “Look!”

The cherry blossoms from the path had blown its petals over with the wind. They fell softly and silently, as if they were snowflakes in the winter’s harsh conditions. But the sun contradicted this illusion as its ray lit up the petals like tiny pink fairy lights. You were smiling from ear to ear at the sight, cupping your hands together as an attempt to catch as many petals as you could. Bakugou watched on, feeling his heart rate increasing the more he laid his eyes on you.

You turned to him. “Close your eyes,” you commanded.

Bakugou sighed, not having the energy to defy you and knowing that you were planning to do something with those petals. That was why your next actions shocked him more than he could have ever imagined.

He heard you let out a deep sigh. “I’ve been wanting to do this for a long time ‘cause I was too scared to do it. But I’ve been feeling a little… brave now.”

Before Bakugou could let out the words “do what?” he sucked in a breath as he felt your warm lips plant themselves onto his own as you cupped his face in your cold hands. The wind continued to blow softly, your hair flowing along with it as the fruity smell of your hair engulfed his nostrils. Your kiss was gentle like your smile and Bakugou felt himself become hotter. Your lips were soft and warm, unlike your ice cold touch.

You pulled away, your face flushed as the gravity of your actions set into your mind. Bakugou felt his own face heat up as he began to realize what you had done, dropping the notebooks from his lap. His eyes were wide, his mouth agape in incredulity. You let out a snicker, immediately angering Bakugou.

“What the hell is so funny?” He asked, his cheeks flushed.

You shook your head. “You just looked so cute, Katsuki.”

“C-ute?” Bakugou whispered slowly in disbelief. You were unbelievable, mind-boggling at times to him.

You sighed. “I just didn’t know how to thank you. But every time I tried thinking of a way, nothing came up so I decided to do that.”

You stared at Bakugou’s face for a minute, basking in his expression. For a second, you felt a tug in your chest, like you didn’t want to ever forget his expressive crimson eyes. You scooted closer to him on the bench and leaned over, wrapping your arms around his neck as best as you could from your position. Everything you did just sent utter confusion to Bakugou’s brain, his body feeling rigid against your touch. “I can’t thank you enough for everything you’ve done for me. If I’m being honest, I don’t know exactly when I’ll get better. It might be four months or four years, I don’t know.”

You pulled away from him, holding his hands in your own. He had callouses all over the palms of his hands but even though there were bumps and ridges on his skin, he felt so warm and soothing. “You don’t have to put up with this anymore. You can walk out right now, and I won’t think ill of you. You’re heading into the real world as a pro and you deserve to not have to worry about me.”

Bakugou felt his face become hotter, but not from shock or embarrassment this time. He felt angry with you. He was angered that despite everything he had done for you, the daily visits, the tutor sessions, or the lunch breaks with him, you felt as if he was ready to just walk away.

Bakugou parted his lips to say something but you shook your head. “You don’t have to say anything now, I’m serious. I honestly don’t know when I’ll get better. I have my family looking after me so you don’t have to worry about me. You should focus on finals and graduation and your future.”

His eyes stared back into your own, trying to decipher what was going through that head of yours. The things you said and did were all unfathomable and incomprehensible. It made things even harder for Bakugou to say anything. Only you would be the kind of person to kiss someone and then give them the option to walk out of your life.

Before Bakugou could even think another thought, the door to the rooftop entrance opened. Your nurse smiled at the two of you, pointing at her watch to indicate that it was time for your medicine. You nodded, using your IV stand as a crutch as you pulled yourself up to your feet. Bakugou stood up quickly, holding your forearm in his hand to steadily hold you up.

“Can you walk?”

You rolled your eyes playfully. “Don’t underestimate me too much.”

Ignoring your words, Bakugou stood behind you, ready to catch you if you so happened to fall. He had his hand hovering over the small of your back as you walked back into the building. The nurse smiled at Bakugou as she put her hand to the IV stand. “I’m guessing we’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Uh, yeah.”

You smiled and waved back at him. “Thank you and your family for everything, Katsuki. And please consider what I said seriously.”

Bakugou watched as you and the nurse walked back to room 405, the sound of the door sliding open and close echoing through the hallway. He stayed there for a few moments before finally deciding to go back home.

***

On any other day, Bakugou was able to fall asleep fairly quickly and early as he was unusually strict about his sleeping schedule. But tonight, his mind was whirring with an abundance of thoughts. And you were the only thing that kept popping up in his mind. He felt himself blush as he envisioned your lips on his over and over again. He threw the duvet off of him as he began to grow hot the more he saw your face. Bakugou got up and went to the bathroom; turned the sink on and splashed cold water onto his face.

Your words and voice kept echoing through his mind as well. He wished he could tell you how he felt and how angry he felt when you spoke to him as if you were running on borrowed time. But he didn’t get the chance to question you any further.

A few knocks came through from the opposite side of the door, snapping Bakugou out his trance as he opened the door. Masaru stood by the doorframe, a puzzled expression on his face. “Katsuki, what’re you doing up so late?”

“Couldn’t sleep,” Bakugou said curtly, flicking the light switch off and making his way back to his bedroom.

Masaru followed him, standing by the door as he watched his son sit on the edge of his bed and stare up at the ceiling. “Is something bothering you?”

“It’s nothing, just school stuff.”

“Is it about Y/N?” Bakugou looked back down at his father and Masaru smiled as he was able to correctly read his son. “I had a feeling something happened with her.”

Masaru walked inside and closed the door behind him, turning the light on. He sat beside Bakugou as his son continued staring at the space in front of him. “How’s she doing?”

Bakugou let out an exasperated sigh. “I can’t tell for sure. She’s not giving me a straight answer and it’s pissing me off. Like she’s keeping a huge secret from me.”

Bakugou paused for a moment, internally deciding whether or not to confide in his father. Deciding to do so, he glanced at Masaru momentarily. “I need advice.”

Masaru raised his brows slightly. He knew Bakugou as someone who always kept to himself and disliked others prying in his life. It was the first time he was coming forward and asking for something. “Of course, son! What’s wrong?”

“It’s about Y/N. She was being… nice...” Bakugou cleared his throat, not wanting to address the kiss, “she was being nice all day but all of a sudden she said some bullshit about giving me the option to walk out of her life and not have to worry about her. It’s all I can think about and it’s fucking pissing me off.”

“Why is it making you feel annoyed?”

Bakugou turned around to face his father, an irritated expression on his face. “Because I’ve been busting my ass off and helping her out all this time and she’s repaying me by saying she wants me to ‘think about my future.’ She’s acting like she’s gonna die tomorrow and she’s fucking giving up.”

“Hmm…” Masaru hummed, thinking for a moment before continuing. “Seems to me that she’s trying to spare your feelings.”

Bakugou furrowed his brows in confusion. “Spare my feelings?”

“I think it’s safe to assume that what Y/N is dealing with isn’t something that’s going to allow her to live her life normally like she used to a few months ago. This… illness that she’s dealing with must be long-term and she doesn’t want you to have to see her in her most vulnerable state. She wants you to focus on your life.”

Bakugou scoffed, his hands clenching into fists. “That idiot… why the fuck would I spend so much time visiting her and looking after her if I was gonna just walk away like a fucking moron? If she thinks she can just deal with this all without at least talking to someone then she’s a bigger idiot that I thought she was.”

“So you’re trying to say that you’re going to always be there for her no matter what?”

Bakugou hesitated, realization setting in as he began to understand the whirlwind of confused thoughts and feelings inside of him. “Yeah…”

Masaru smiled. “Then go tell her! It’s no good for you to just sit around and talk to me. The poor girl probably thinks you’re just leaving like that.”

Bakugou’s hands rested on his knees, fingers clenching around the fabric of his pants as he pondered momentarily. Everytime he attempted to figure out what to say around you, he couldn’t help but feel mentally aggravated. You were always confusing him and throwing curveballs at him to make him feel thirty different emotions at the same time. Bakugou turned to face his Dad once more.

“I don’t know what the fuck I’m gonna say when I get there but I’ll try.” He got up, grabbing his hoodie as he made his way out. He stopped in the hallway, turning around. “Thanks… I guess.”

Masaru smiled as he watched his son grab his keys and leave the house. In all of the years he’s watched his only child grow, he’s never seen the amount of emotion and vigor Bakugou possessed until he was around you or talked about you. Even a girl he had known for only more than a couple of months had such an effect on him that even he didn’t realize what you were doing to him.

***

Bakugou opened the doors to the hospital, his chest rising up and down as he attempted to recollect himself after sprinting all the way here. The receptionist at the front desk looked at him with a concerned look. “Bakugou? What’re you doing here so late? Visiting hours just finished.”

Bakugou leaned on the counter. “Please let me see her. I just need a few minutes, not that long.”

The woman looked weary, looking down at her clipboard but Bakugou wasn’t going to take no for an answer. “Five minutes. I just need to tell her something and I’ll leave. I swear.”

The woman sighed. “I’ll be in real trouble for this so please make it quick. Five minutes is all you get.”

Bakugou sighed in relief, running towards the stairs before the woman could even utter another word. He used his quirk to maneuver himself up quicker than normal and kicked open the door once he reached the fourth floor. He didn’t bother knocking on your door either, sliding the door open so quickly it clattered against the wall causing a loud clank.

You jumped in your bed, dropping one of the notebooks Bakugou had given you. Sitting up, you were puzzled as to why he was here so late. “Katsuki, what’re you--”

“You’re a fucking idiot.”

You were taken aback, usually being accustomed to his abrasiveness. “What?”

He took a few steps towards you, standing directly in front of your bed. The proximity of his body to yours even made you flustered. “I don’t give a fuck if you’re sick. You think I didn’t realize that you were going through something serious after being hospitalized for months? There’s no way I’m leaving you now, not when you’re acting like you’re fine when you’re obviously having to deal with a shitty situation. And I don’t give a fuck about what you say or think, I’m gonna be here whether you like it or not.”

Bakugou continued breathing heavily, both from coming here at such a fast pace and from his own words that were spewing out of his mouth. Every other time he was around you, he didn’t know what the right thing to say was, always ending up second guessing himself. But that was every other time. He finally decided to go with his gut and tell you how he was feeling without thinking about the aftermath.

You smiled, laughter escaping your lips. The sound filled the room and Bakugou was confused. “Why… Why the hell are you laughing?!”

You giggled, pulling on his shirt and making him sit by your bed. Cupping his face in your hands, you grinned widely. “You’re incredible, Bakugou Katsuki.”

Bakugou stared back at you, ignoring the heat in his cheeks as he felt your glacial-like hands against his skin. He took your hands away from his face and you watched curiously as he held your hands earnestly. He controlled his quirk enough to heat your hands up, making you feel warmth in your fingertips for the first time in months.

Your fingers brushed over the various calluses on his hands. “I heard you loud and clear. And I’m sorry if I made you angry with what I said. I just didn’t want you to have your hopes up.”

He looked into your eyes directly and intently. “The minute I met you I had my hopes up. I’ve had my hopes up every time I’ve been around you. I mean it, Y/N. You’re gonna have to rip me apart limb from limb if you want me to leave your side now.”

You laughed again, squeezing his hand in yours. In that moment, you had never felt so much warmth practically radiating off of another person. Although all of these feelings and emotions were stirring inside you, you were too afraid to do anything with them. The news of the severity of your sickness made you feel more ambitious than usual but it also made you more hesitant. You didn’t want Bakugou to be involved in something that he wouldn’t know what would be the outcome. Who knew when you would get better and if you would ever recover completely, but in that moment, you refused to let the physical nature of your body control how you would live your life.

❝Should I turn back around a few more times?

We walk along together upon the desolate road, conversation lacking substance

We look out into the distance where the light shines

I realized just then I can no longer move forward

Every step brings me closer to our end and the hand I used to hold seems to vanish in the wind❞

Bakugou shoved his phone in his pocket, the sweat already formulating in his hands as he felt the heat of the summer take its effect on him. He paid no mind to the various looks that he received from onlookers and passerbys. Kids bounced up and down excitedly to their parents, whispering, “Look, it’s Ground Zero!”

Even the old lady running the flower cart was appalled as the infamous hero stopped in front of her stand. She stared curiously as Bakugou inspected the variety of bouquets she had laid out before him. He had his eyes set on a specific one: a completely white bouquet of tulips with hints of pink cherry blossoms hidden behind the fragile white petals.

Bakugou pointed to the bouquet, handing the elderly woman a wad of cash. “I’ll take that one.”

The woman was snapped from her staring, grabbing the bouquet and handing it to him. She smiled. “That must be for someone special.”

Bakugou looked down at the bouquet and down the long path he had yet to walk past. He smiled slightly. “You could say that…”

~~~

Bakugou clenched the bag of pastries in his left hand tightly as he pushed open the now familiar doors to Meijo Hospital. Yaoyorozu and Mina were excited and bubbly when they told Bakugou about visiting you when they ran into him during patrol. Truthfully, he felt guilty for not visiting you as often as he could. Now being a pro hero, he was constantly given work that put him in a position to have to rely on texting and calling you. Once he was free of work, it was already too late as visiting hours were closed. Nevertheless, you always reassured him and told him that you understood that he was busy saving people and you never once complained either. But he couldn’t help but think: were you lonely in that desolate room?

“Ground Zero!” The same receptionist behind the desk from Bakugou’s days in U.A. exclaimed with a bright smile. The other fairly new receptionists were shocked at the sight of the newly professional hero before them. “It’s been so long, I was wondering when you were coming.”

“I was busy. Is she still in room…?”

“405? Yup, she’s still in the same room,” the receptionist said, gesturing down the wide room towards the elevator.

Bakugou made his way towards the elevators, stopping in front of them as he finally took notice of the numerous eyes set on him as people began whispering to one another. Even though he thought he would’ve gotten used to the attention, and although most days he didn’t mind it, he felt particularly annoyed that day. He rolled his eyes, choosing to take the stairs instead. He trudged up the stairs, his footfalls echoing through the empty and long space.

The closer he got to the fourth floor, the heavier his chest felt. The last time he saw you was almost three weeks ago and he noticed how you had gotten sicker and sicker. Your cheekbones were poking against your skin as your face looked sunken in. Seeing how you had not only lost a considerable amount of weight but also how you looked weaker overall made Bakugou experience a pain he never thought he’d be able to feel. And despite your deteriorating appearance, you still had the brightest smile on your face. Your eyes lit up in a manner like no other and you continued to amaze Bakugou.

Bakugou finally reached your door, lingering outside for a few moments. He peered inside through the small frame of glass, watching as you sat up on your bed and looked down at your hands. You had a candle in your hands, taking in a large breath before attempting to use your quirk. You were fully concentrated on the wick of the candle as you slowly lifted your hand to the wick. Just as a small spark of a flame was beginning to form at the palm of your hand, you couldn’t control it and the flames engulfed the entire candle.

Right as Bakugou moved to push open the door to help you, you dropped it to the floor, instinctively grabbing the fire extinguisher and putting the mess out. You dropped the extinguisher to the floor as well, the metal causing a loud clanging sound to erupt even past the door. Bakugou watched as your fists grabbed the bed sheets in aggravation. The tears naturally fell from your eyes and there was no stop to them. You were holding in so many emotions and you couldn’t hold it in any longer. It was too tiring to act like you were always kept together when you just wanted to crumble sometimes.

Bakugou felt his hand clenching the handle of the door, slowly and quietly sliding it open. You didn’t bother looking up, expecting one your parents to have walked in to console you. “Mom, Dad, please leave me alone. I really want to be alone.” The words left your lips like a whisper.

You were greeted by a pair of sturdy arms wrapping themselves around your shaking body, a familiar yet comforting smell, hints of a caramel and earth fragrance engulfing your nostrils. Bakugou was warm against you, like he always was. But he felt even warmer that day.

Bakugou rubbed your back, dropping the bag of pastries on the stand by your bed. “I don’t know exactly what’s going on and I wanna think that you’re keeping it from me to spare my feelings. But you’re not in this alone. You don’t have to shoulder this pain on your own. You’re human and you don’t deserve to beat yourself up over this shit.”

The lump in your throat rose as uncontrollable sobs escaped your lips. Hearing Bakugou’s voice, one that you had missed listening to, made you feel comforted but the severity of your condition was taking a toll on not only your body but also your mental well-being. It had already been nearly two years since you were hospitalized.

Your tears painted his black tee but Bakugou didn’t mind as he rested his cheek against the top of your head and continued to rub your back. Sometimes the only thing you could do was let the tears fall until they ran out and it made it better to have someone there to just hold you.

“I’m sorry,” you choked out, wiping away the tears from your face and pulling away from Bakugou.

His hands rests on your shoulders, staring at you with disbelief and concern. “You don’t have to be sorry about this.”

You shook your head. “I… I should’ve just rejected you that night. I shouldn’t have let you get close to me.”

“What do you mean, Y/N?” The way your voice sounded frantic and rushed was mildly scaring Bakugou.

“The doctor is giving me the option of surgery to help me out but the chances of me making it out alive is slim,” you whispered, your voice breaking as you spoke.

Bakugou was perplexed, not understanding why you needed surgery in the first place but it also made him realize the severity of your condition. You looked up at him, laughing at yourself as you realized Bakugou’s confusion as you hadn’t told him what was happening to you. “I’m sorry for not explaining it before… but without making it too complex, my quirk is hurting me. It’s funny ‘cause it’s such a simple quirk, just some flames, but it’s not simple at the same time. Katsuki… my quirk is destroying me from the inside out.”

Bakugou didn’t realize how tightly he was gripping your shoulders as his crimson eyes looked back and forth from one eye to the other. He was waiting for the punchline, waiting for this to be a sick joke and that you weren’t in such a serious situation. He wanted to see your face break out into a smile, that same smile that made him fall head over heels for you. He waited for a moment but he felt his heart shatter to pieces as he continued to look back at the broken girl sitting before him.

He engulfed you back into his arms, holding onto your frail body tight enough that it wasn’t hurting you. He nuzzled his face into the crook on your neck, feeling the frustration build up within him. He never wanted to let you go ever again.

“It’s gonna be okay.”

The tears started culminating again as the sobs escaped your lips. Your hands gripped onto Bakugou’s black tee so tightly that you could feel your own fingernails stab into your palm. “I don’t know what to do, Katsu. What do I do? I’m so scared.”

Bakugou was at a loss for words. He didn’t know either, didn’t know how to comfort you or how to take away the fear you were experiencing. He pulled away from you, brushing away the hairs that were sticking to your tear soaked cheeks.

He let out a sigh. “If this surgery works, will you be okay?”

You nodded. “If it’s a success, my quirk won’t be any good but I’ll be able to live again. But if I don’t take it… there’s barely a guarantee that I’ll be able to live, too.”

Bakugou’s lips curled upwards slightly. “Then there’s your answer. You need to take any chance to get better, to get out of this fucking room. This is your life, Y/N. And I know you’re not the type to take this shit lying down.”

You sniffled, nodding along with him. “I am tired of this room. And… I just want to walk on my own two feet again. But I’m just so scared. I know that if I don’t take this surgery, I’ll be dead but this is just speeding up the process and the stakes are so high.”

Bakugou brought his hand up and patted your hair down. “There’s nothing to be scared of. Not when you’ve got your family and friends here. Not when you’ve got me here and there’s no way I’m letting some fucking quirk or sickness take you from me.”

A small laugh erupted within you, the first smile you had for weeks on your face. You brought your usual icy-cold hands up to cup Bakugou’s face, rubbing your thumb along the new scar on his brow bone from the last villain’s attack. “I keep hearing all the nurses say how strong and handsome ‘Pro Hero Ground Zero’ is. And whenever I see you on the news, I keep imagining the day I get to see you in your hero costume and see in person how you keep saving people’s lives.”

Your smile intensified as you looked back up at Bakugou’s eyes. You were deprived three weeks of seeing your boyfriend, wanting to bask in this moment longer than usual. “I kept thinking of that, you know, kept thinking about the day I can see you and spend time with you outside of this dreadful room. It’s been the only thing keeping me going.”

You sighed, leaning into him and pressing your cheek against his chest. You could hear how fast his heart began to beat, how even the slightest touch made him go crazy. “I don’t know how I could ever repay you for all of the things you’ve done for me, Katsuki.”

Bakugou scoffed, bringing his arms up to hold you against him. “I haven’t done shit, if anything I’m doing the bare minimum. All I’m doing is seeing you, that’s it.”

You shook your head against him. “You don’t understand. As much as I appreciate and love my parents and the others for visiting, the way I feel when I see your face is a feeling I can’t describe in words. Sometimes I feel like giving up, just throwing in the towel ‘cause sometimes that’s just easier. But then I think of you and how persistent and determined you are. I think about how you’ve never given up in your life, not even for a second. Most people see that ambition in you as arrogant but I see it as brave. And I want to be like you.”

Bakugou sighed once more. “You’re unbelievable. You’re the one in the hospital and here you are hyping me up and making my ego bigger than it already fucking is.”

A breathless laugh escaped your lips. Your arms tightened around his firm torso. “You’re a hero, Katsuki. You’re my hero.”

❝So, tell me now, how can I love the heartbreak when you’re the one I love,

To give you up because of love or from the heartache and pain

No, my heart, that's something I can never do❞

Bakugou groaned as his phone began vibrating once again. He begrudgingly fished it out on his pocket, answering it without bothering to acknowledge the caller ID. “What?”

“What, even your mother can’t get a decent ‘hello’ just ‘cause her son’s famous now?” Mitsuki huffed from the other line.

Bakugou rolled his eyes as he continued walking down the path. “What is it?”

“Kirishima called and told me that you’re visiting Y/N.” That fucking snitch… “Your dad wanted me to check up on you since it’s been two years since you’ve seen her.”

“He’s worrying for nothing. I’m fine.”

“Katsuki, you’re not fooling anyone. I can smell the bullshit all the way from here.” Bakugou could hear his mother sigh. “Are you sure you need to see her today? The way you two ended things...”

“Something’s telling me to meet up with her today, okay? I need to see her.”

Mitsuki paused before letting out another sigh. “I can’t even complain about your stubbornness ‘cause you got it from me. Since you’ve made up your mind, tell her ‘hi’ from me and your dad. And tell her we’ve missed her.”

“Alright.” He hung up, shoving his phone back into his pocket. He felt his heart skip a beat when the cool metal touched his fingertips. His feet stopped moving, the gust of wind blowing against his body as numerous cherry blossom petals floated against the wind. The metal band shined in the sun’s light, the giant diamond sitting on the band shining even brighter. Bakugou’s fingers curled around the ring in a fist. The memories from this ring were his favorite, one that he could recall perfectly. It was the one of the last times he saw that beautiful smile on your face, the smile that radiated purity and serenity.

~~~

The weather was practically unbearable that day. Bakugou could feel beads of sweat sliding down his forehead and neck as well as a pool forming at his palms and fingertips. Not only was he worn out from work and patrolling, the weather was just adding onto the trouble.

“Hmm, I wonder who you’re going to visit, Bakugou,” the same old receptionist teased as Bakugou walked up to the front desk and signed his name under the visiting section. She gasped as she took the clipboard from him.

“If I’m not here, who’s gonna keep that shitty girl company?” Bakugou said with a smirk, gripping the plastic bag in his hand.

The receptionist laughed as he walked away and said good-bye. It was like second nature by now to walk into Meijo Hospital to the point where Bakugou recognized nearly every doctor and nurse in your wing. A few of them grinned as he walked past them, going towards good ole room 405.

Bakugou slid the door open, confused as to why your room was empty. He looked down the hallway, getting the attention of one of the nurses. “Where’s Y/N?”

“She was with Nurse Takahashi earlier. She wanted some fresh air so I think she’s on the first floor,” the nurse responded.

Bakugou sighed, sliding the door shut. “This girl’s making me go through this whole fucking building to find her…” he thought to himself.

He begrudgingly made his way down to the first floor, deciding to take the elevator for once. Once he reached the lobby, he scanned the area, attempting to spot your (H/C) locks. He stepped outside, getting frustrated as he couldn’t figure out where you were. Knowing you, you were most likely hiding somewhere trying to scare him.

Which was exactly what you were doing.

Your attempt at popping out from the bush area, screaming ‘boo!’ was a fail as not only did Bakugou expect you to do that, but your being in a wheelchair didn’t help either.

Bakugou rolled his eyes. “You’re always doing shit to give me a hard time, huh?”

You grinned widely. “Of course. I have to keep you on your toes.”

You wheeled yourself forward, heading away from the building. “Come on!”

“Are you even allowed to be out here?”

You nodded. “Mhm. Takahashi let me have some free time since I’m fully recovered from the surgery. Plus, I told him Ground Zero was coming to keep an eye on me.”

Bakugou sighed, placing the plastic bag in your lap as he took the handles on the wheelchair in his fists and wheeled you forward. “You’re not on the IV anymore?”

You shook your head, gasping inwardly in delight at the sight of the popsicles inside the bag. “I’m off pain killers. It’s been two weeks since the surgery, you know.”

“You still have to be careful. Didn’t that nurse guy say that there still isn’t a one-hundred percent chance of that quirk of yours being destroyed?”

You rolled your eyes playfully, licking the cool popsicle. “I’m fine, I swear. You’d think that with the six years we’ve been together you’d trust me more.”

“It’s ‘cause I’ve known you for six damn years that I know you get too excited and get reckless,” Bakugou huffed.

You snickered, leaning back. The preparation for the long-awaited surgery was one of the most nerve wracking experiences of your life. Just waiting for the day to come was the scariest part. Due to the severity of the process, as the medical staff was attempting to extract your quirk from you, it took years to prepare for it. Although using something as drastic as the Quirk-Destroying Drug used by the villain Overhaul would have made the process quicker and easier, the drug was mandated illegal for the purpose of the drug as well as the way in which it was created.

Once you went through with the surgery, the recovery period was also difficult to deal with. Your body was learning how to function again as years have passed since the quirk was slowly killing your insides. Although you were off painkillers, it would still take time and lots of physical and mental therapy to be how you were when you were just a teenager. Even though the surgery was a success, your quirk was reduced to the size of a fraction of a bean, meaning that there was still a chance that it could grow and weaken your body once again. Nevertheless, you took that chance and here you were, on your way to a normal life.

Although the recovery period was difficult and it is still difficult functioning everyday, Bakugou was there by your side for all of it. He made sure to visit and help your parents out as much as he could, balancing a demanding job on top of this. He would often get scolded by his agency but he didn’t give a damn. You were his top priority and you will always be his top priority.

You crossed your arm over your shoulder, putting your hand over Bakugou’s. He felt comforted by how warm your touch had become. “I’ve missed you, Katsuki.”

“The hell do you mean, I’ve been here the whole time?” Bakugou asked, pushing you towards the brick path he knew you loved so much.

You laughed, shrugging your shoulders. “I don’t know. It’s just that I haven’t been myself, my true self all these years because of all of this and now I finally feel like it again.”

Bakugou smiled softly. For years he saw the effects of your quirk on your physical and mental well-being. As much as you tried to be optimistic for him, your parents, and friends, Bakugou knew that deep down you were terrified and tired of being stuck in that damn room.

You pointed to one of the many wooden benches surrounding the edges of the path, one sitting right under a cherry blossom tree. “Let’s sit over there.”

Bakugou maneuvered you beside the bench, sitting down so he was right next to you. You handed him a popsicle, one that he took happily as the sun’s intensity only increased. Although Bakugou had gotten used to it, you were shocked at how many people were staring at the two of you. You smiled. “I knew you were popular but I didn’t know you were this popular.”

Bakugou smirked, crumpling the wrapper and throwing it into the plastic bag. “You’re looking at a top hero. Of course they’re all staring.”

You laughed. “They’re probably wondering who I am next to you.”

“They can wonder all they want. I don’t give a fuck what they think but if anyone even thinks about saying any nasty comments about you, I’ll fucking destroy them.”

You chuckled, shaking your head and leaning into him. “Always so violent no matter what, huh?”

Bakugou rolled his eyes, wiping the sweat from his forehead. Eventually the people stopped staring right in front of you, slowly walking past you and making you feel comfortable with the lack of prying eyes. You took notice to Bakugou’s bangs sticking to his forehead, pulling out one of your hair clips. Clipping his hairs back onto his head, Bakugou flinched at your sudden action. “The hell are you doing?”

“You looked hot so I’m just helping you out.” You giggled at how cute he looked, forehead exposed to the world and his same old grumpy face.

“I better not look stupid with this shit in my hair,” he grumbled.

“You look a-dor-able,” you said, enunciating slowly. You pointed down the path. “Let’s go! That’s enough lounging around!”

“You’re the one who wanted to sit here.”

“I know but I want to go down this whole path before the sunsets and we have to head back to the hospital.”

“Alright, gimme a second,” Bakugou said, standing up and pushing you once more.

As you walked with him, Bakugou yelled as he realized the amount of people snickering as they walked past you guys, taking notice to his new hairdo. You laughed along with them and despite his complaining and whining, Bakugou didn’t dare to touch his hair.

Unfortunately, your wish to reach the end of the path was cut short as a woman screaming startled everyone in the area as well as you and Bakugou. Bakugou whipped his head around to the source of the sound, you leaning on the side of the wheelchair to catch a glimpse of the commotion. Bakugou only needed a few seconds to spot a man in a hoodie running in the opposite direction of a flustered woman pointing at him. He had a purse in his hand.

“This asshole,” Bakugou muttered. He quickly pushed you to the side of the path so that you weren’t in the middle of the walkway. “Wait right here.”

“Oka--”

Bakugou ran in the opposite direction before you could say anything else, pushing his hands behind him and using his quirk to increase his momentum. He looked behind him momentarily, making sure no one was behind him to be harmed by his quirk. Once he got closer to the culprit, he yelled, “Hey! Asshole!”

The man turned around, gasping as Bakugou kicked him to the ground, his foot on his torso as the man groaned in pain from the impact of his kick. Bakugou leaned down, snatching the purse from his hand. Fortunately, due to being so close to a hospital, a few security guards rushed towards Bakugou, taking care of the man and thanking Bakugou for his help. Even bystanders walking down the brick path began cheering and clapping, getting a glimpse of the infamous Ground Zero at work.

Bakugou made his way down the path, handing the woman her purse silently before walking towards you. “Thank you, hero!” She called out.

Bakugou waved her off as he caught sight of you, a wide smile on your face as you were joining in on the clapping. Bakugou scoffed at you, moving your wheelchair from the curb. “You don’t have to clap.”

“Oh, come on! It’s my first time seeing you in action, it was exciting!” You exclaimed.

Bakugou chuckled, continuing to wheel you down the path like he had intended before you were rudely interrupted. He patted down his pants, panicking slightly when he felt his pockets empty. Shoving his hand into his pocket, he let out a sigh of relief when he found what he was looking for.

You turned back, eyeing him. “Did you lose something?”

“No,” Bakugou said a little too quickly, making you even more suspicious.

“O-kay,” you said cautiously, deciding to drop the matter… for now. You looked down the path as the brick and cobble road slowly started to fade. “Where are we going?”

“We’re almost there. You love this road, don’t ya? Thought you’d enjoy this, too,” Bakugou said, nodding to the sight ahead of you. You gasped inwardly as you stared ahead. As the brick path ended, the path was located on a slope, looking down on the metropolitan area. The sun was setting, painting the sky with purple and orange hues. The U.A. building stood tall in the center of all of the commotion of the city, giving you an even more perfect view of the city than the rooftop of the hospital. Plus, there were barely any people huddled around this area as they were too engrossed with the cherry blossom trees to enjoy the view.

“It’s beautiful,” you whispered in awe.

Bakugou smirked, pleased with himself. He sat down on the curb, at the top of the hill and enjoying the sight. You smiled, getting up slowly, wanting to join him. He stopped you, getting to his feet and gently pushing you back onto the chair. “What're you doing?!”

“I want to sit with you,” you said simply.

“But you can’t walk now.”

“I can walk a little,” you said, raising your two fingers. “You’re worrying too much. I can move this much just to sit next to you, you know.”

Bakugou sighed, knowing that there was no point in arguing with you. He grabbed your hand, helping you sit beside him and he pushed the wheelchair behind the two of you. You smiled up at him, scooting closer to him and latching onto his arm. “It’s nice to spend time like this with you.”

Bakugou hummed, his hand in his pocket as he looked over to you. “It makes me excited to think about all the memories we’ll make when I’m all better,” you said excitedly.

“Me too,” Bakugou said, sweat forming on his forehead once more. His palms were beginning to sweat as well, this time not from the heat.

You took notice to his nervousness, furrowing your brows. “What’s wrong, Katsu?”

Bakugou gripped the object in his pocket with such force that he was shocked it hadn’t broken. He sighed. “Being here with you makes me think about the future.”

You smiled, pinching his cheek teasingly. “What, you’re nervous to spend your future with me?”

He turned to face you, his eyes piercing right through you. He took the velvet box out from his pocket, flicking it open to reveal a metal band with a giant diamond sitting on top of it, one that would put the sun to shame with it shining brightly before you. “No. It makes me fucking excited to want to spend my whole life with you.”

Your eyes widened as you took notice to the engagement ring in his calloused hands. You could only shake your head, not able to believe what you were seeing or form any coherent words. Tears started forming as you stared at him. You were speechless, overwhelmed with love and feelings of security. As time passed and your condition worsened, it was harder and harder for you to even dream about things like marriage. But with Bakugou by your side giving you hope and pushing you to want to get better, it made you believe; can you really live a normal life again?

“Shit, did I fuck it up?” Bakugou asked angrily, annoyed with himself. “I’m supposed to get down on one knee and shit, aren’t I?”

Your (E/C) eyes watched on as Bakugou got up and went down on his left knee, holding the box up to you with an intense look on his face. You covered your mouth in disbelief, the tears now streaming down your face.

“Y/N, will you marry--”

“Yes!” You screamed, your voice echoing through the air. You attacked him into an aggressive hug, causing Bakugou to lose balance and fall backward onto the grassy area. Luckily he managed to catch your body and not lose the expensive ring at the same time. You buried your head into his neck, sobbing as your tears splattered his skin. “A million times yes!”

Bakugou laughed, a weight lifting of his shoulders. “You idiot, I could’ve dropped this shit, ya know?” His expression didn’t match his tone as he grinned widely.

You got up, still on top of him and wiping your face despite your sobbing never ceasing. Bakugou sighed, sitting up and pulling you into his embrace. “You’re not supposed to cry.”

You sniffled, leaning into his shoulder. “I’m just so happy, Katsuki.”

Bakugou shook his head, taking your left hand from your face and sliding the ring onto your finger. He caressed your hair, laughing at your tear-streaked face. You wiped your face once more, gasping for air in between your sobs. “It’s just… for the longest time I didn’t know if I’d ever survive to see the next day. And… And now you’re giving me hope to spend our lives together.”

Bakugou smiled, wiping your face as well, cupping your face in his hands. “Well now it gives you all the more reason to wanna get better.”

You laughed breathlessly, finally ceasing the tears from falling. You looked down at your hand, smiling at the ring. “You don’t understand, Katsuki, you’ve helped me survive more than you’ll ever know.”

You leaned in, planting a soft and warm kiss on his cheek. “You’re the reason why I still exist, Katsu. You give me a reason to want to wake up the next day.”

❝How could I do that to you

Our love that runs deep as the ocean,

Waiting till it runs dry…

The wind was strong that morning. But it wasn’t a slight breeze like usual as it brought harsh flurries of snow and frost along with it. Fortunately for Bakugou, who’s quirk was well suited for these harsh conditions, was fine as he made his way to his agency.

Right when he opened the doors, he was attacked into a hug. Kaminari smiled at him as he attempted to leech off of his warmth. “Kacchan!”

Bakugou grimaced, lifting him up by his shirt and dropping him on the floor. “Don’t ever fucking touch me or say that name ever again, dunce face.”

“Oh, come on! It’s not fair that you get all that warmth ‘cause of your quirk!” Kaminari complained, leaning on the front desk as he shivered in his costume.

Kirishima greeted the two, also clad in his hero costume. “Took you long enough.”

“What the hell are you two doing here anyways?” Bakugou asked, nodding at his receptionists as they greeted him. He made his way to his office and Kaminari and Kirishima followed him.

“We were in town after taking down some giant goat villain,” Kirishima said.

Bakugou closed the door behind them. “Goat villain?”

“Yeah, it was pretty weird. But we knew your place was nearby and we wanted to pay you a visit!” Kaminari exclaimed. “We also wanted to see how Y/N’s doing.”

Kirishima perked up. “Yeah, how is she, man? I heard she’s still in recovery from that surgery from like a year ago.”

Bakugou nodded, taking his gauntlets off and tossing them to the side. “She’s getting better with time. She was getting physical therapy so her body gets used to fixing the damage from her quirk but she got sick so she’s at the hospital.”

Kaminari sighed. “That poor girl can never catch a break. And here I was thinking you two could’ve at least gotten married.”

Bakugou slipped his gloves off and threw them onto his desk. “We already did.”

Kaminari and Kirishima both jumped up, eyes wide. “What?!”

Bakugou showed them the wedding band on his finger. “We didn’t want a ceremony and she didn’t feel like waiting so we just did the paperwork s’all.”

“Congratulations, man!” Kirishima said excitedly.

Kaminari pouted, slumping down on one of the chairs in front of Bakugou’s desk. “No fair, I bet Y/N would’ve looked real pretty in a wedding dress.”

Bakugou glared at him, taking off the rest of his gear including his eye mask and leaving his jacket-like top and pants on. “You better get those perverted thoughts out of your fucking head.”

Kaminari raised his hands up defensively. “I wasn’t thinking anything perverted! I just thought she’d look pretty!”

“Well you’re a fucking pervert either way so I don’t trust any bullshit that comes out of your mouth.”

Kirishima sighed, shaking his head as his two friends continued to argue. Bakugou's phone buzzed on the desk and Kirishima gestured to it. “You gonna get that?”

Bakugou grabbed it, looking at the caller ID. It was your dad, in fact he had numerous missed calls from him. He answered the call, bringing the phone up to his ear. “Hello?”

“Katsuki! Thank goodness you answered, I’ve been trying to reach you for some time now!” His voice sounded frantic on the other end.

“Sorry, I leave my phone in my office when I’m wor--”

“Never mind that; it’s about Y/N.”

Bakugou felt his heart nearly stop beating as he heard your father’s next words, dropping his phone to the floor. He bolted out the room in a panic, ignoring Kaminari and Kirishima’s worried shouts from behind him as he made his way to Meijo Hospital.

***

The receptionist gave Bakugou a worried look as she saw him dashing for the elevator. Normally she would’ve scolded him for running in the lobby but she had heard the grave news as well, turning a blind eye to the matter. Bakugou aggressively jammed the button on the elevator as the doors closed, the ding sound intensifying as he reached the fourth floor. He used his quirk to push him forward as he finally got to your wing, your parents sitting down nervously in the waiting room.

Bakugou approached them, breathing heavily as his heart pounded against his chest. “Where is she?”

Your mother was crying as your father comforted her. He looked up at Bakugou with worry. “The doctor said they don’t know what happened, they said that she was fine one minute and then… they had to go into immediate surgery. Her organs are failing her.”

Bakugou’s legs gave out underneath him, luckily managing to sit on the chair beneath him and next to your father. The surgery from last year was a success and you were slowly yet surely on your way to recovery. “She was fine… what the fuck went wrong?”

Your mother got up, wiping her eyes as she continued crying. “I’m going to go to the bathroom.”

Your father nodded sadly, watching as she walked down the hall. He turned to Bakugou, sighing. “I’m sure Y/N spared you the complexity of her condition as the medical reason for it is pretty difficult to understand. But similar to your quirk secreting nitroglycerin in your sweat, Y/N’s quirk secretes hydrogen cyanide.”

Bakugou listened intently. “What does that do?”

“Hydrogen cyanide is extremely toxic for the body but it is also flammable, which is what allowed Y/N to create her flames. However, unlike your quirk that secretes nitroglycerin primarily to your sweat, Y/N’s quirk secretes it directly from her endocrine system. I’m not sure if you know but the endocrine system regulates the body by secreting chemical substances into the bloodstream.”

“And that hydrogen cyanide shit’s been in her bloodstream this whole time?” Bakugou asked, not being able to believe what he was hearing.

Your father nodded, the frown still wrinkled on his face. “With the hydrogen cyanide being secreted in her bloodstream, it is affecting her organs, especially since the endocrine system regulates metabolic functions. When she was a child, the secretion was not too much for her to be hospitalized but slowly the dosage started increasing as she got older. She’s had so many of these surgeries but with each surgery, the risk of her being fatally injured in the process kept increasing, too.”

Your father gripped his knees in his hands in anger, frustrated to no end. “No matter what we do… no matter what we try to do to help her live her life, that damn quirk keeps manifesting. All these surgeries are just delaying the process. Her quirk is slowly burning her up.”

Bakugou looked down the hall, staring at your room. He could faintly hear the doctors and nurses’ voices through the door, hearing how frantic and rushed they sounded. All your life you’ve been fighting your own body and Bakugou refused to believe that it was going to end like this.

Your father clapped a hand onto Bakugou’s shoulder, giving him a weary smile. “Don’t worry, son, we’ve got to be hopeful for her. She’ll get through this, she always has.”

“There’s no way I’m ever giving up on her. I married her because I want to spend the rest of my life with her… only her. I’m not letting her leave me like this,” Bakugou said adamantly.

***

Time was going painstakingly slow. Bakugou had already drank three cups of shitty hospital coffee, your mother had gone through two boxes of tissues as her tears kept coming, and your father had bitten his fingernails into short nubs. Remembering how he left Kaminari and Kirishima, Bakugou asked your dad for his phone, dialing Kirishima’s number in.

“Bakugou! We’ve been worried sick, man! What the hell happened?” Kirishima asked in a concerned tone.

“Y/N’s in surgery. I’m with her parents at the hospital. I dunno when it’ll be over,” Bakugou said, leaning against the wall.

“Do you want us to come, too?” Kirishima asked after pausing for a moment.

“No, we’re fine here.” The door to your room finally opened and Bakugou perked up immediately. “The doctors are out, I gotta go.”

Bakugou hung up, handing the phone back to your dad as the three of them got up and started crowding the doctors and nurses coming out of the room.

“How is she, doctor?” Your father asked, hopeful for some good news.

The doctors looked uncomfortable, one finally speaking up after what felt like an eternity of silence. “She’s strong. Probably one of the strongest patients I’ve ever had… but it’s not going to work out.”

Bakugou felt his heart drop to his feet. “The hell do you mean?”

The doctor frowned, nervous with Bakugou’s tone. “She has ten minutes left. That quirk of hers was too strong to get rid of even with the surgeries she’s had. We managed to get these last moments for her. We’re so sorry.”

The doctors and nurses bowed to them to show their condolences. Your mother let out a shrieking sob, running into your room immediately. Your father followed suit, rushing to be by your side. But Bakugou couldn’t help but be frozen on the spot. No matter how much he tried to move his feet, he couldn’t do anything. He refused to believe that this was reality, wishing for this to be his worst nightmare.

Finally he moved, his legs feeling like jelly as he collapsed to the ground, his back hitting the wall. He buried his face in his hands, pulling at his hairs in frustration. You were fine, all this time you were on your way to a full recovery. You were smiling brightly just this morning and now… you were on your deathbed?

Your father stepped out, his tear-stricken face evident as he sniffled. “She wants to see you, Katsuki.”

Bakugou snapped his head towards him, nodding as he rose to his feet. He had to drag his feet into your room, terrified of what he was going to see. He sucked in his breath as he made eye contact with you.

You were hooked to so many machines Bakugou couldn’t keep count. You looked inhumanely pale, your veins peeking through your skin. Your hair stuck to your face and you looked exhausted. Nevertheless, you had the most beautiful smile on your face, one that could make Bakugou fall in love with you all over again. “Katsu… ki.”

Bakugou crouched down beside your bed, holding onto your hand. Your other hand was held by both your parents. Bakugou hadn’t taken notice to the tears falling from his eyes until you brought a shaky hand up to wipe them away. “Katsuki, don’t… cry.”

Bakugou felt himself breathing heavily as the tears continued to fall as he held your hand tightly in his. “You idiot, don’t tell me what to do. Not when you’re here like this.”

You let out a breathy and weak laugh, maintaining your smile. “You really are amazing, Katsuki.”

The tight knot-like feeling in Bakugou’s chest refused to leave as the tears drowned his vision. But he wiped them away vigorously, refusing to lose sight of you. Your eyes wandered down, looking at Bakugou’s clothes. “I finally got to see you in your hero costume…”

“Stop talking, you’re making it worse,” Bakugou mumbled incoherently, his lips quivering as he tried to maintain his composure. Your parents held onto you as tightly as Bakugou did, all three refusing to believe the reality and gravity of the situation unfolding before them.

You smiled once again, using all of the strength you had left to maintain that withering smile. You brought a shaky hand up to Bakugou’s cheek, rubbing your thumb along his cheekbone.

Bakugou’s vision became blurry, tears welling in his eyes as he gritted his teeth in pure anger. “You’re so fucking incredible, you know that? And so badass and strong.”

Your chest was rising and falling unevenly as it became harder and harder for you to breathe. Glancing over to your parents, your eyes glazed with your own tears. “I’m sorry Mom and Dad.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong. We’re so proud of you, sweetie,” your mother croaked, your father nodding along.

You smiled once more, a tear gliding down your face. “I love you both. Please look after… Katsuki. And each other.”

The monitor began beeping slowly and Bakugou held your hand in his once again, clenching it as tightly as he could. You gave his hand the slightest squeeze, turning your head to look at him. “Tell the others… that I’m sorry… didn’t get to say goodbye.”

Bakugou nodded vigorously, bringing your enclosed hands to his lips as he planted a soft kiss against your cold skin. “Don’t go, Y/N. Please.”

You laughed again, smiling sympathetically at him. “I wish… we could be… together forever…”

You smiled, your eyes closing slowly. “At least now… I can finally… leave this damn room…”

The heart monitor continued to beep slower and slower. Time stood still as Bakugou heard your last words ring in his ears. “I love you, Bakugou Katsuki. I love you… more than life…”

Bakugou and your parents stared on as your chest fell for the final time, the flatlining of the monitor echoing through Bakugou’s head. Your fingers went limp in Bakugou’s hand and Bakugou felt himself shake with anger.

“This is some fucking joke… there’s no way this is real…” Bakugou whispered.

The doctors came back into the room, and Bakugou didn’t even notice their presence or your mother passing out onto the floor. As they went over to her side to assist her, your father approached Bakugou. He put a hand on his shoulder. “Son, come on, let’s go.”

“No!” Bakugou pushed his hand away, his eyes blazed as he continued to hold your hand in his. “I’m not leaving this room!”

He looked over to the nurses by the doorway. “You’ve got to do something… anything! We can still save her!”

“Katsuki… please,” your father whispered desperately, his body shaking as his own tears never stopped.

“Ground Zero, sir, there’s nothing else we can do--”

“Bullshit,” Bakugou growled, interrupting the doctor. “She’s not dead! She was fine a few days ago! And you want me to believe that she’s fucking gone?!”

“Katsuki, you need to open your eyes, son,” your father was pleading beside him on the floor by your bed. “This is just as hard for you as it is for us.”

Bakugou got to his feet, his fists shaking at his sides as sparks ignited in his palms by his rage. He couldn’t look at you, refusing to see your limp body lying on the bed. He refused to believe anything. “Believe whatever the fuck you want.”

Bakugou ignored the shouts behind him as he stormed out of the room, running as fast as he could. He didn’t know where he was going or what he was doing, going wherever his feet were taking him. She’s not dead, she’s not dead, SHE’S NOT DEAD was all that was repeating in Bakugou’s mind.

That dreary day in room 405 was one that Bakugou would never forget but was also one he would do whatever he could do to forget. He turned his back on everything that day, and he never came back.

~~~

Two years had passed since then. Two painstakingly long years. After that night, Bakugou left the country, travelling to different places to somehow take the pain away, but it was no use. Your face continued to pop up in his mind like a constant reminder that you were gone.

The first month, Bakugou went to South Korea and China. He tried to indulge himself in anything that would distract him. And as hard as he tried, every night he’d wake up in the middle of the night with the image of your dead body in room 405 haunting him.

The next few months, he covered all of Asia, moving to the Middle East, Europe, Africa and so on. He didn’t answer any calls from his parents, your parents, his agency, or his friends. He submitted a leave of absence to his agency, one that he knew would be approved because it was his agency.

Sooner rather than later, a year had gone by and Bakugou was still on his pilgrimage to find something to fill the hole that you had left in him but to no avail. After two months, Bakugou finally returned to Japan, coming home to a frenzy of media as he had decided to go back to work. His colleagues and friends wanted to question him, question what he had been doing but didn’t have the heart to do so. They knew how difficult your death was on him.

When Bakugou went to his family home, he was greeted with swear words and constant yelling from his mother. But he ignored it, actually apologizing to his parents. And like that, Bakugou returned to his life as a pro hero.

However, things took a turn as he finally decided to quit seeking refuge with his parents and return to the home he had bought to live with you once you were fully recovered. The minute he opened the door, he collapsed to the floor, tears welling in his eyes for the first time in a long time as he saw pictures of you everywhere. The pain came back and it hit him like a punch to the face.

Finally here he was today, as Bakugou finally came to a stop at the brick road. The sun was setting, just like it was when he proposed to you on this same hill that day. Bakugou felt a chill down his spine as his eyes fixated onto your gravesite. The grassy area beside the path had been turned to a gravesite per your family’s request. It was your favorite part of the city and everyone who knew you knew how much you loved the area.

Bakugou stopped moving, his feet frozen in place and his hands clenching around the bouquet as he stared intently at your tombstone. He took a deep breath in and out, bracing himself as he took a few slow steps forward. Once Bakugou mustered enough strength to finally step before your grave, he fell to his knees, gently placing the bouquet in front of the urn of ashes. He took the incense sticks and matches on the side of your grave and lit a stick, placing it beside the flowers.

“I’m finally here, Y/N,” Bakugou said breathlessly, smiling softly. “I’m a really shitty husband for showing up two years late, but I’m here.”

He looked at your name engraved into the stone, that alone making his heart beat faster. Bakugou got up from his position and sat down cross legged in front of your grave, letting out a deep sigh. “I’m the biggest asshole there is. My wife died and I didn’t even go to her funeral ‘cause I didn’t wanna believe that it was true that you were gone.”

Bakugou felt his eyes begin to water and he attempted to suppress them, not wanting to cry in front of you. “Death is a fucked up thing, ya know. I saw your body in that damn room, I saw it with my own eyes. But I still didn’t want to believe it because you were still in that room. But when I left, I thought I would come to my senses but I didn’t. I didn’t realize you were really gone until I woke up in the middle of the night and you weren’t next to me to tell me it’s okay. You weren’t there motivating me even when I was being a dumbass or being hard on myself. You weren’t there to say that you love me.”

Despite how hard he tried, a single tear fell from Bakugou’s eye, one that he wiped away immediately. He didn’t want this “reunion” to be a sad one. “Months after I left I realized that you were really gone. Because when you died, it didn’t hit me all at once. It hit me slowly day by day as I began to see you weren’t there. And it fucking hurts, Y/N. It fucking hurts to not see you here.”

Bakugou reached into his pocket, pulling out your ring and put it inside the bouquet. “Your dad mailed that to the house when I came back and I thought I was gonna pass out on the spot. Your parents almost had a heart attack once they saw me after all this time without telling them anything. Hell, my folks were pissed, too, ‘specially my mom and she almost beat my ass.”

Bakugou let out a humorless laugh and then another sigh. “Kirishima and my parents said ‘hi’ by the way and how much they missed you. Kaminari, Sero, and the girls also miss you, too. We all fucking miss you, Y/N. And I’d do anything to have you next to me.”

“But that’s not the point,” Bakugou said adamantly. “I’m not gonna sit here and mope about how much I wish you were here ‘cause that’s expected. I know you wouldn’t want me to be sad ‘cause you’re the sweetest person I’ve ever known who cares way too much about others than she does about herself. And I want you to know that you don’t have to worry about me. I’ve got people here to do that, so you just relax up there. You’re finally free, Y/N. You’re free from that sad ass room and I hope you’re finally happy now.”

Bakugou reached into his pocket one last time, pulling out the unlit and destroyed candles that you had attempted to light a few years ago using your quirk. He placed them beside the bouquet. “Whenever I see these shits I get pissed ‘cause it reminds me about your quirk, about how something you couldn’t control and something that was supposed to help you was what killed you. But now I look at it and it reminds me about all the time we spent together, about all the times we spent in that room.”

Bakugou looked up at your gravesite for one final time, memorizing it as best as he could. “I know you didn’t want me to be a fucked up mess when you were gone, but I couldn’t help it. The heartbreak I felt when you left me is a feeling I could never describe ‘cause it fucking sucks. But I’d go through it all over again if it meant just having another minute with you.”

Bakugou raised a hand to the stone, his fingers tracing the engraving of your name. “I’ve never loved and will never love anyone as much as I love you, (L/N) (F/N). And I can’t wait for the day when I can see you again…”

…will be the day we bid our last goodbye.❞

#bnhabookclub #boku no hero imagines #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #my hero academia imagines #katsuki bakugou #bakugou x reader #bnha x reader #bakugo x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugo katsuki x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader

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anotherkpopvictim · 4 years

Text

Broken But Healing - Hoseok X BTS Littlespace Drabble

“Imogen asked: I’d love little Hobi being really unwell (maybe even a hospital trip) and just being taken care of by the rest of the members.”

A/N: First of all, thank you so much for requesting! I changed it slightly to an injury sending Hobi to the hospital instead of an illness or something. I hope I did your request justice.

Second, I am so sorry for posting this literally months after you requested it. Sometimes life just doesn’t bring me the will or inspiration to write, but I finally got it finished in a way that I liked.

Relationship: Little!Hoseok X Caregivers!BTS

Rating: G

Words: 2114

Hurt/comfort, fluff

DISCLAIMER: I don’t know shit about medical stuff so I’m sorry if it’s inaccurate but I tried my best.

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

Hoseok knew that going into a career that involved dancing meant having sore feet all the time and countless other injuries. It was unavoidable. He’d been lucky enough in his thirteen years of dancing not to have done anything severe. He’d never even broken a bone before.

However, there was a first time for everything.

All the BTS members and staff were gathered together in the rented performance hall, polishing everything up for the online concert they were going to be having in just a few weeks’ time.

Hoseok made a simple misstep while going through the choreography and his foot missed the stage, instead plunging him off of the rather high platform they were on.

As the lead dancer felt the breath knock out of him and an excruciating pain running up his left leg, he could hear the distant-sounding calls of his bandmates.

“Hoseok-ah!”

“Hyung!”

Namjoon was the first one to reach him, followed quickly by the other members and some of their staff. The leader had wide, concerned eyes as he kneeled next to Hoseok’s collapsed form. “Hobi-hyung, can you hear me?”

There were a few startled gasps and a couple swear words from the others, but Hoseok could barely focus on anything other than Namjoon’s face, the floaty feeling in his head, and the sudden numbness in his whole body.

“Hobi-hyung,” Namjoon repeated, trying his best to keep his voice calm.

Hoseok swallowed, “J-Joonie?” his tone was soft and airy, instantly giving away his little headspace. “H-Hobi f-fell.”

Namjoon, who immediately crowded in closer when he realized the other was in littlespace, took his hand and smiled sadly. “I know you did, baby. It was a pretty bad fall.”

Seokjin came into his view, immediately taking up Hoseok’s other hand. “Can you tell hyungs how you’re feeling, sweetheart?”

“I-It hurt before, but the pain went away now,” Hoseok replied softly.

Seokjin and Namjoon shared a concerned look between them at that.

Before anything else could be said, Jimin appeared at Hoseok’s head, upside down in his vision. “Baby, it looks like you’re gonna get to ride in an ambulance today, isn’t that cool?”

“Am-bu-ance,” Hoseok sounded out, eyes widening. “B-But the pain is gone. Hobi doesn’t need help.”

“Your leg is hurt, honey,” Seokjin said, kissing the little’s knuckles in comfort. “A doctor needs to look at it.”

Hoseok whined, looking between his three bandmates. “H-Hurt? I-Is it bad?”

There was a silence before Jimin smiled at him, though even upside down it looked more like a wince. “It’s pretty bad, baby.”

Almost instinctively, Hoseok lifted his head to glance down at his legs but was stopped by his three boyfriends pushing him back and shaking their heads frantically at him.

“No, don’t get up, sweetheart,” Seokjin said, a strained smile on his lips. “Don’t look at it.”

“Just look at us,” Jimin added, running his fingers through Hoseok’s disheveled dark locks.

Hoseok was so distracted and out of it that he barely noticed when the paramedics arrived, nor when they stabilized his leg. He frowned when he was lifted onto a gurney and the world began flying by. He immediately missed the warmth of Seokjin, Namjoon, and Jimin’s hands on him.

Yoongi came into his view before he could whine in displeasure, running a hand through the younger’s hair before they lifted him into the ambulance. The eldest rapper hopped in after him and sat next to him as the vehicle started up.

“I’m right here, Hobi-ah. Hyung’s right here, love,” Yoongi assured him.

A few seconds went by (or a few minutes - Hoseok’s mind was getting too fuzzy to understand time properly) before the younger spoke up. “H-Hyungie, don’t feel good.”

“I know you don’t, bub,” Yoongi replied softly. “It’ll be okay, though. I promise.”

Hoseok didn’t get to hear anymore before he fell completely into unconsciousness, but the older man’s words made him feel more at ease.

------------------------------------------

“How is he?” Jungkook stood up abruptly in the private waiting room as Yoongi walked in. Jimin put a hand on his shoulder and gave a gentle tug so he would sit back down.

Yoongi sighed, “He passed out on the way here. The paramedics said it was from shock but his vital signs were normal, if a bit elevated but they said it was to be expected. They just took him into the operating room so I had to leave him.”

“Did they say anything about how badly his leg was broken?” Namjoon asked worriedly.

Yoongi shook his head and sunk into Taehyung’s lap, who wasted no time wrapping his arms around his hyung.

Being a dancer and just an active person in general, all of them were worried about how long this injury was going to affect their boyfriend and how he would get through it.

It felt like forever before the doctor finally came into the room, a small smile on his lips. “Jung Hoseok is doing alright,” he said before anything else. The man was on the shorter side and probably in his late forties, a pair of black-framed glasses sitting on his nose. Dr. Song was one of the doctors that frequently tended to the BTS members, so it was nice to see a familiar face.

All six of them were on their feet and anxiously awaiting what the doctor would say next.

The man took a deep breath and glanced down at his file. “Hoseok-ssi suffered an impacted fracture of his left fibula and caused some damage internally, but nothing major was disrupted. Thankfully, he only has two hairline fractures in his tibia that should heal within a few weeks.”

They all let out a simultaneous sigh of relief; at least Hoseok hadn’t broken both leg bones.

“And the operation went alright?” Seokjin asked.

Dr. Song nodded, “Smooth sailing. He’ll be in a cast for about eight or nine weeks. After that, with some physical therapy, he should be back to dancing by the beginning of next year.”

“That’s good to hear,” Jimin said with a smile. “Thank you so much for everything, Dr. Song.”

The man smiled back at him. “No need to thank me. I can take you to him now if you’d like, though he is still unconscious at the moment.”

The six of them eagerly followed the doctor through the maze of hallways until they reached a room marked with ‘Private Room #7’ written on it in clear, bold letters.

“He should be awake within the hour but he’ll probably be out of it for a good while after that. We’ve given him some medication for the pain and judging by the notes on his file that says he’s sensitive to drugs, he’ll most likely be a bit loopy.” Dr. Song explained as he led them into the private room.

The room itself was fairly large and had a sofa and a few chairs around for seating. Dr. Song moved to pull aside a curtain that revealed Hoseok laying on the hospital bed. He only had an IV in his hand and a heartrate monitor over his left pointer finger. They observed their boyfriend’s paler than normal complexion but peaceful face as he slept.

“I’ll come back in a little while with some prescriptions to help with his pain,” Dr. Song gave a quick smile and bow which the boys all returned before the man left the room.

As soon as the doctor had disappeared, all six pairs of eyes were back on their boyfriend’s unconscious form and a silence fell over the room for a few minutes.

“He’s not going to be happy when he wakes up to find himself in the hospital,” Yoongi commented.

Jimin hummed in agreement, “He hates hospitals.”

They all knew how much of an understatement that was. Hoseok had a huge phobia of hospitals. Thankfully, their private room was fairly comfortable and homey, only the IV and monitor giving an indicator it was a hospital room at all.

“Do you think he’ll be Little?” Seokjin asked.

“Hard to say for sure,” Namjoon replied. “Though I think he might slip pretty quickly even if he wakes up Big.”

Jungkook was the one that looked away from Hoseok long enough to realize that they were kind of just creepily standing around his bed, hovering over him. “I think we’ll scare him if he wakes up and sees us like this.”

They went about gathering some chairs and along with the couch in the room, there was enough seating for all of them.

Taehyung was leaning on his hand as he watched Hoseok once more. He pouted and sighed, “I feel bad for hyung. I hope his leg will heal alright.”

Yoongi reached over from his seat to ruffled Taehyung’s hair, a fond smile on his lips. “We’ll do everything we can to help him, and we can hope.”

----------------------------------------------

Hoseok blinked his eyes open, though they felt like they were weighed down by lead. He was met with the sight of a white ceiling and tan walls and unmistakable machinery beside him, and his six boyfriends scattered around the room.

Namjoon and Jimin were curled up together in a comfy chair on the right side of the bed Hoseok was on, fast asleep. Yoongi and Jin were slumped together on a couch a few feet away from the end of the bed, also fast asleep.

The only two who seemed to be awake were the maknaes. Taehyung and Jungkook were both seated on a chair together on Hoseok’s left, speaking softly with each other. When they caught sight of Hoseok’s open eyes they sat up straighter and looked at him with wide eyes.

“Hyung!” Jungkook blurted out.

Taehyung immediately shushed him, “Don’t wake the others.” Then he turned back to Hoseok with that gentle, boxy smile of his. “I’m so glad you’re awake, hyung. You really scared us earlier.”

Hoseok blinked at them, still trying to put the puzzle pieces of what had happened together. He was in a hospital - that much he had gathered - but the why was what he didn’t know.

Jungkook seemed to read his mind and said softly, “You had an accident during our concert rehearsal earlier.”

Oh, now he remembered.

Hoseok’s face paled and his eyes widened as his mind replayed the horrible experience. Tears welled up in his eyes before he could stop them, and he sniffled loudly. “H-Hobi gots hurt!” he managed out with a scratchy voice.

Jungkook instantly got up and hurried out of the room to get him a cup of water, while Taehyung’s face softened at Little Hobi. “You did, bub.” He replied, taking one of Hoseok’s hands into his own. “But you’re going to be just fine. Do you hurt at all right now, sweetheart?”

Hoseok shook his head and Taehyung smiled, relieved.

Jungkook returned with a large Styrofoam cup of iced water. He held it out and positioned the straw for Hoseok to take a sip. The cool water instantly helped the dryness in his throat.

“D-Does...” Little Hobi started, “Does Hobi have booboos?”

Taehyung and Jungkook shared a glance before Taehyung answered, “Yeah, baby. You broke your leg, but the doctor fixed it up in a cast so it can heal quickly.”

Hoseok let out a little whine as he looked at his legs, obscured from his view by a mountain of blankets (Seokjin’s doing probably). One leg was obviously larger than the other because of the cast, but at least he wasn’t in any pain.

“Hobi hyu- I mean, Hobi love,” Jungkook said, grabbing his attention once more. “I got some colorful markers from the nurses,” he held up a small bag of markers that Hoseok had missed, “I thought maybe we could draw pretty things all over your cast to help it get better. What do you think?”

Hoseok’s eyes widened and he smiled, tiredly but happily. “Yes, yes! Please Kookie. Please Taehyungie! Draw pretty pictures, please!”

The two maknaes chuckled fondly. Taehyung nodded, “Of course, love.”

Hoseok wasn’t so scared when Jungkook maneuvered the blankets off of his left leg and revealed the bulky cast covering most of his leg. It looked too plain, but Taehyung and Jungkook quickly worked to fix that by covering it in a variety of colors.

Hoseok giggled as the other two bickered about their drawings, feeling the last of the absolute fear he’d felt earlier leave him completely. He was still uncomfortable in the hospital, his fear ever lingering, and he was even more scared about his leg healing, but he knew he had his six boyfriends right by his side (quite literally, right now) who would help him through the tough weeks to come.

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A/N: Fun fact: I have never broken a bone before so I don’t know actually know what it feels like. Anyway, hope you enjoyed it!!

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megalony · 4 years

Text

Family of six- Part 4

I’ve finally managed to finish the next part of this Murderer! Ben Hardy series so I hope you will all enjoy it, feedback is always lovely.

Taglist: @lunaticspoem @butlegendsneverdie @langdonzvoid @jennyggggrrr @rogmeddows @radiob-l-a-hblah @rogertaylorsbitontheside @chlobo6 @rogertaylors-lipgloss @sj-thefan @omgitsearly @luckytrashgooprebel @scarsout @deaky-with-a-c @killer-queen-ofrhye @bluutac @vousmemanqueez @jonesyaddiction @ambi-and-sunflowers @milanosaurus @httpfandxms @saint-hardy @7-seas-of-fat-bottomed-girls @mrsalwayswritex @rogerina-owns-me @hellsdragon @im-an-adult-ish @crazylittlethingg @allauraleigh @onceuponadetectivedemigod

Series taglist: @writeroutoftime

Series masterlist

Summary: Ben and (Y/n) have a son together and are pregnant again but things take a worrisome turn when (Y/n) develops severe morning sickness and they find out they’re having triplets.

Enjoy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"When can we go see mummy?" Billy's voice was quiet and tired but there was curiosity in his words. The five-year-old looked up at Ben with tired eyes that had been staring at the same walls for the past two hours now. Every person that walked past them was a source of interest for Billy because he could think up a story for them and a name like they were characters in a movie he was watching to cure his boredness.

"We'll get to see her soon buddy, she's just with the doctor right now."

Ben rested his chin on top of Billy's head as he tightened his arms around his boy who was perched on his lap leaning back into Ben in a way that showed he was growing tired. For the first half an hour Billy had been silent but content sitting on Ben's lap wrapped up in a comforting hug but then the longer they waited the more uneasy Billy seemed to feel. He wanted to go see (Y/n) and see if she was better and the waiting made him anxious much like it seemed to do to Ben.

To a certain extent Ben didn't mind the waiting, it felt better to wait a long time because it meant that (Y/n) was being treated and checked over. But then again, the longer Ben waited the more it made him suspicious that something had gone wrong for it to be taking this long to get her settled and in a stable condition. Ben didn't want Billy to be here waiting and panicking with him but Ben couldn't take him home in case the doctor came out to talk to him. As soon as the doctor had talked to Ben he would let Billy see her and then take him home.

Ben still had to ring his parents and tell them what was happening, even though they lived almost an hour away he knew that he and (Y/n) would need some help and they were the closest people to help that Ben could think of. (Y/n)'s parents were close by but they weren't on speaking terms with (Y/n) since the moment she got engaged to Ben so he couldn't call them.

This situation was going to go one of two ways, either (Y/n) had suffered a miscarriage and Ben would definitely need his parents around so he could look after (Y/n) and help her cope. Or if they hadn't lost this pregnancy they were going to need a lot more help considering they were only four months along and something like this had happened so early on.

"Is mummy gonna get better?" Billy leaned a bit further into Ben's chest but he wouldn't look up at Ben, a sure sign he was uncomfortable with the topic and was afraid of the answer he was going to receive. He simply looked down at Ben's hand and started slowly drawing patterns on the back of his hand, tracing the pad of his finger over the tattoos on Ben's knuckles. It was fascinating to Billy to look at all of Ben's tattoos but it did sometimes confuse him. Ben had so many different tattoos covering his skin but then Billy would see other people and his friend's parents and wonder why they didn't have half as many as Ben did.

"Course she is, that's why the doctor's looking after her."

"You said when mummy's ill you look after her."

Ben tipped his head back against the wall and rubbed at his eyes for a moment to try and relieve the headache he could feel forming behind his eyes. He didn't like how anxious he could see Billy becoming and he hated that he couldn't do anything about it until he had managed to speak to a doctor.

"Buddy, I'll always look after your mum but when she's sick like this a doctor needs to look after her and give her medicine which I can't do-"

"You give mummy medicine! You give her her tablets, why can't you look after mummy?"

"Baby calm down." Ben hooked his hands under Billy's arms and gently lifted him up so he could turn him around on his lap, wanting his son facing him. He could see the panic building up in Billy's eyes and the desperation creeping in the tone of his voice.

Billy associated hospitals with death and danger and it was somewhere that made him feel unsafe and uncomfortable. When he had a chest infection last year and had to have fluids drained from his lungs it hadn't been a good experience for him considering he had only been four at the time. And he knew Ben had had family go to hospital and never come out again. He didn't want (Y/n) to be here because it seemed like a bad sign to Billy, he didn't quite understand that people went to hospital even when they had only small or minor problems.

Whenever Billy was sick or ill (Y/n) and Ben looked after him and whenever (Y/n) was ill or upset or had any kind of problem, Billy knew Ben always tried to do something to help. He looked after her and calmed her down, Billy wanted Ben to look after (Y/n) and no one else.

"I do give your mum medicine, I sort her tablets out and I look after her, but I don't make those tablets or tell her which ones she needs and maybe she needs some new tablets for now which is why she needs to see the doctor. But when she's better and comes home I'll be the one looking after her I swear. She's gonna be fine baby, you don't have to worry."

Ben rested his chin on Billy's temple and sighed when he felt his boy burrow into his chest like he was trying to curl up and disappear. He hoped his words were enough to calm Billy down because there wasn't much else that Ben could say or do to try and make him feel more at ease and settled right now. He wanted to be able to tell Billy that (Y/n) was going to be perfectly fine and that she could go home soon but he doubted (Y/n) would be going home for a few days at least and he knew she wasn't going to be fine for a few days or even weeks.

But for now he could only tell Billy that (Y/n) was getting the help she needed and it was going to make her better in time.

A few minutes of silence passed between the father and son before Ben looked to the left and instantly recognised the doctor walking towards them as being the one who was now treating (Y/n).

"Buddy, why don't you play a game on my phone for a minute so I can go talk to your mum's doctor?"

Billy looked up at Ben with wide eyes but nodded in agreement all the same, he let Ben pick him up and move him onto the seat next to him before he got his phone out of his pocket. Ben had two phones, one for work and one for personal use which he always let Billy use to play games on. There was no way that Ben could let Billy use his work phone in case he saw something he shouldn't or it rang and Billy tried to answer it. He didn't know what Ben did specifically at the club and Ben wanted to keep it that way.

Getting to his feet, Ben walked a few paces away from the waiting area and over to the doctor who had a warm smile on his face but it didn't make Ben feel any more at ease.

"Mr Hardy?"

"Yeah, is my wife okay?" Ben slipped his hands into his back pockets to stop himself from clenching his hands into fists out of nervousness. He needed to feel like he was in control of every situation or else he didn't know what to do and right now there was nothing about this situation that Ben could control and help with.

"She's awake now. We've put your wife on an IV drip due to how dehydrated she was when you brought her in and she has anti-emetics going straight into her bloodstream so that it actually stays in her system."

With (Y/n) not being able to keep anything down it was the only and easiest option to just have the fluids go straight into her bloodstream along with the medication that will ease her constant sickness feeling. She won't keep throwing up or gagging or generally feeling sick with the anti-emetics and with them going straight into her blood rather than her stomach it meant they could get through her system and work without being thrown up. That was a big relief to Ben to know that (Y/n) could finally have the medication and have it work for once.

"What about the pregnancy?" Ben wasn't stupid, he knew that with the state (Y/n) was in she could have easily miscarried with how dehydrated she was when he found her earlier and if he didn't get to her sooner (Y/n) herself could have become a lot worse off.

"The pregnancy doesn't seem to have been affected. Your wife will be monitored for the next week or two as she is still at risk of miscarrying but with her now having fluids and proteins straight into her system there shouldn't be any problems with the babies."

Ben nodded before he tipped his head down to look at the floor, needing a moment to gather himself and his thoughts. It had crossed his mind more than once about what he would do or say if they lost this pregnancy. Triplets wasn't what they had been expecting or what they initially wanted in the beginning. But they still wanted to have kids and neither Ben nor (Y/n) wanted to lose any of the three new lives they had created.

"We need to keep her in for observation for at least a week so we can get her fluid levels up and get your wife to start eating and monitor the pregnancy and she may need to stay for longer, depending on how quickly she recovers."

"Can I go see her now?"

"Of course."

Ben needed no more than that to make him turn on his heels and head over to where Billy was at contently playing a game on his phone. He scooped Billy up into his arms, letting him continue playing the level of the game he was focusing on.

"Alright buddy, we're off to see your mum now and then I'm gonna take you home, sound good?" He settled Billy on his hip, taking his phone back the moment Billy handed it over, no longer interested in the phone now he knew he could go and see (Y/n). The waiting hadn't been too bad for Billy, he was easily content by looking at his surroundings, his mind had the ability to run away with him and he could sit with his thoughts. But it was the worry of not knowing if (Y/n) was okay that had been hard on Billy.

Ben knew his son had been unsettled and shocked by seeing (Y/n) in such a state. He was very close to (Y/n) so finding her in the bathroom like that and having to see her so ill was frightening for the five year old and it hurt Ben to see his son be so distressed like he had been today.

Neither of them knew what to expect when they entered (Y/n)'s hospital room, although Ben had been told (Y/n) was awake part of him expected her to be asleep or half conscious like she had been earlier.

Ben rubbed his hand up and down Billy's back as they both looked over at (Y/n) the moment they entered the room. (Y/n) still looked as pale as she had done when Ben found her earlier in the bathroom. She could barely keep her eyes open but as he got closer Ben realised that her lips weren't chapped or pale in colour anymore and she didn't have a cold sweat anymore. It was surprising to Ben that (Y/n) was awake right now when she had only been barely lucid earlier and it surprised him even more that she hadn't miscarried. As much as he was relieved and overjoyed that (Y/n) was still pregnant, it was surprising because of how dehydrated she was and how little she had eaten.

There was a drip taped to her left hand and one taped into a vein in her right arm which Ben knew were both for the fluids she needed and the anti-emetics, both of which would be going straight into her bloodstream. There was a monitor checking her heart rate which was thankfully silent at the moment so there was no background noise to focus on.

"Mummy!" Billy started to wriggle in Ben's arms, feeling a desperate urge to scramble over to (Y/n). It had been little over two hours since he had last seen her but Billy was yearning to burrow into (Y/n)'s arms and reassure himself that she was okay.

"Hey baby." (Y/n)'s voice was scratchy and very quiet but the tired smile on her lips was enough to calm Billy right down and make him almost jump out of Ben's arms and onto the bed. He crawled his way up the bed until he was level with (Y/n) and flung his arms around her neck, burrowing into her side when he felt her arms cocooning around him like a safety blanket.

"Buddy be careful with your mum, mind the wires."

Ben leaned over the pair of them so that he could help Billy move under the drips rather than laying on them like he was so that he didn't constrict the fluids (Y/n) needed. When he was sure that Billy wasn't laying on any wires or tubes, Ben sat down in the seat next to the bed.

He could feel his heart beating just that little bit faster in his chest at the sight in front of him. It was normal for Ben to find Billy curled up next to (Y/n) o the sofa or in bed, as much as he loved following Ben around like a lost puppy, he was always attaching himself to (Y/n). But it made something inside of Ben churn to see Billy curled up against (Y/n) when she looked as ill as she did and when she was laid in a hospital bed. It was like Ben was looking at a familiar photo but the background was different or something was missing and it was making him feel uneasy.

"You better now mummy?" Billy tilted his head up so his chin was perched on (Y/n)'s shoulder and the way he looked up at her with puppy dog eyes made her heart melt in her chest. It was as if he was willing for her to be better so they could all go home when deep down he knew (Y/n) wasn't going to be coming home tonight.

"I feel a bit better now baby, but I can't come home just yet." (Y/n) slowly started to card her finger through Billy's hair to try and calm him down when he frowned and looked like he was about to cry.

"Why? Daddy said he can look after you-"

"Buddy don't start that again, please. You know your mum has to stay here and get better before she comes home. The doctor will look after your mum and I'll look after you."

Ben didn't want to go through this again, he knew Billy was just desperate for them all to go back home where he felt safer and more at ease but right now that just couldn't happen. Ben couldn't make (Y/n) better by magic and neither could the doctors and if she went home right now all that would happen would be a repeat of today. (Y/n) wouldn't eat because she wouldn't have the medicine going straight into her vein and she would lose fluids. It was very clear that if she lost anymore fluids they were in danger of losing her and not just the babies.

"What about baby, is baby okay?" Billy still looked unsure and rather deflated at the news that (Y/n) wasn't coming home with them yet but he was clearly trying his best to stay positive. He slowly moved his hand and looked down to (Y/n)'s small bump that he started to rub like he was soothing the baby and making sure they were okay.

Neither (Y/n) nor Ben had the heart or the courage to tell Billy just yet that it wasn't just one baby. They both knew that the news of three new siblings all at once wasn't going to be exactly what he wanted to hear. The five year old did want siblings but he also liked being an only child because he got the attention he wanted from both his parents. Three new babies in the house was going to steal the attention he had so far and it wouldn't be as fun as he thought having a sibling would be.

"Yeah, the baby's okay."

"Can you play a game on my phone again for a minute buddy just so I can talk to your mum before we go home?"

When Billy nodded, Ben fished his personal phone out from his pocket and handed it to Billy when the five year old sat up on the bed. He planted a loud kiss to (Y/n)'s cheek before he slowly scrambled off the bed and sat down on the chair next to the door to give his parents some space to talk.

"I left you for one morning and I end up getting Billy calling me cause you collapsed in the bathroom. Why didn't you tell me how bad you were?"

Ben watched the way (Y/n)'s eyes flicked down to look at her hands which were resting on her stomach so she didn't have to look at Ben's burning gaze. She knew he wasn't telling her off or angry with her but she knew that he was uneasy about this. Billy had to call him and tell him to come home and that was something that had never happened before and that Ben didn't even consider would happen. If (Y/n) just told him how badly she felt in the morning he would have stayed and could have been there when she collapsed instead of her being home alone with Billy.

"Billy called you? I was gonna ring you but everything just seemed to blur and switch off... how badly did I scare him?"

A sigh escaped Ben's lips when he saw the tears forming in (Y/n)'s eyes at the thought of scaring Billy like that. He tangled his hand with hers but moved his other hand to the back of (Y/n)'s head, knotting his fingers into her hair as he leaned to kiss her temple.

(Y/n) didn't remember much about this morning, she knew that suddenly she felt like her insides were churning and as if her stomach was shrivelling up into nothing. When she collapsed in the bathroom everything else seemed to blur together into a mush of voices and movements. She remembered Ben's voice and being in the car but the timeline was skewed, all (Y/n) knew was that Ben had brought her to hospital. Being told that Billy actually had to call Ben made (Y/n)'s heart break in her chest and she knew how badly hospitals upset Billy.

"He didn't understand, he thought you were asleep and asked me to come look after you but he was scared. You were badly dehydrated doll and I can't have you getting that bad again or I'm risking losing you, not just them." Ben's eyes darted down to (Y/n)'s stomach where he moved their entwined hands to brush over her skin.

The thought of losing (Y/n) scared Ben and there was very little that scared him. His family being at any sort of risk was the only thing that could make Ben panic and he wouldn't know what to do if he lost (Y/n), nor did he really know what they would do if they lost this pregnancy. He wouldn't know how to help (Y/n) or what to say or even how she would react to something like that and Ben didn't want to know. He wanted (Y/n) to be safe and okay and for their three babies to be okay.

"The doctor said the medication will start working now and I'm under observation for the next week or two."

"It'll work because it's finally getting into your system for once so hopefully you'll actually be able to eat and drink something. I don't wanna leave you doll because you're still in a bad way but I need to get him back home. I'll get everything covered at the club and bring Billy back tomorrow after preschool, okay?"

Ben didn't want to leave, he wanted to stay and reassure himself that the medication and fluids were working in making (Y/n) better and stopping her state from deteriorating any more than this. But he also needed to get Billy back home for something to eat and to settle him down since he had had a distressing day. He would bring Billy back tomorrow to reassure him that (Y/n) was still okay and getting better and so he could see (Y/n) himself. Ben didn't exactly like the thought of going home and not having (Y/n) there, he hated not having her at home it was always like something was wrong or missing and he couldn't fix it.

But at the same time, Ben knew that Billy would most likely be crawling into bed with him tonight.

When (Y/n) nodded, Ben managed a small smile before he leaned down to press a kiss to her lips. He knew when he first found (Y/n) in the bathroom earlier her lips had been chapped and dry from dehydration but he was relieved now to feel that her lips weren't dry or chapped.

"Okay, come on buddy say goodbye to your mum so I can get you home."

Ben tried to bite back his smile when (Y/n) buried her face into his neck, breathing in his scent which made a shiver run down his spine at the feeling of her breaths against his neck. She didn't want him to go, sleeping without Ben was extremely hard even with how tired and drowsy she felt right now. But he had to go and take Billy home and she knew her boys would be coming back to see her in the afternoon.

"We'll be back tomorrow, doll."

#ben hardy #ben x reader #ben hardy imagine #imagine #BoRhap #dad! ben #murderer! ben #pregnant! reader #family of six

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eberles · 4 years

Text

i hate u, i love u

Rafe Cameron

(gif by @toesure :)

Request: A Rafe fic based on the song “I hate u, I love you” by gnash (ft Olivia O’Brien) PLEASE MAJOR RAFE VIBES 🥺💖 @fav-imagines

A/N: I wanted to cry writing this lol idk why but it hit me right in the feels!! it’s kind of all over the place, if anyone is confused by, don’t worry bc i am too!!!! lol anyways enjoy!! (this is probably the first thing ive ever written that goes with rafe’s character) bold = lyrics, italics = flashbacks

Warnings: angst, mentions of drugs, cheating, lying, toxic relationship, swearing

feelin used, but im still missin you and i cant see the end of it just wanna feel your kiss against my lips and now all this time is passing by, but i still cant seem to tell you why it hurts me every time i see you, realize how much i need you

I’ve spent months sitting in my room staring at the ceiling, and at the walls. I did a full Bella Swan from New Moon and let 3 months go by without being present for any of them. I didn’t care honestly...Even after spending all that time alone, i’m not still not healed from the heartache that was caused by him. I still miss him, his scent, his kisses, his clothes, everything. Rafe.

I went out once and he was the last person I wanted or planned to see, but of course, he was the only person I actually saw. Sure, there were other people around, but none of them mattered. Everyone else felt greyed out except for him. He was the only light I could see in those short moments. Everything felt like it was moving in slow motion, my breath hitched in my throat and it felt like there was no air left to breathe.

After months it still hurts to see him again. It hurts because I realized I still need him even after everything. I hate him. So why do I love him? The feeling of him being the only one I want, the one nobody could ever replace...it’s overwhelming and I can’t seem to shake it. But me? He replaced. It looked like it was easy from my point of view. He needed her, wanted her, and i’m not her.

i miss you when i can’t sleep or right after coffee or right when i can’t eat, i miss you in my front seat, still got sand in my sweaters from nights we don’t remember. do you miss me like i miss you? fucked around and got attached to you.

My head was consumed on thoughts of you. It was constant. Like the leaky faucet in the bathroom or the loose floorboard. Always running, always broken. I miss you. Maybe you’ll come around, but for now...I wish you were here instead. When it’s late and I can’t sleep, I think about you. When it’s early and I can’t eat, I think about you.

“Where are we going?” you giggled excitedly, grabbing my hand from across the console in my truck.

“Shh, I told you it’s a surprise baby, we’re almost there anyways.” I laughed at her giggling like a kid, she had so much excitement in her eyes. She was always ready for anything, even if it was 2 in the morning and I love that about her. I love everything about her.

“Ugh fine!” she groaned dramatically and rolled her eyes in a full circle looking up at the ceiling. “Why are we at the beach?” you didn’t even give me enough time to answer before jumping out of the truck and running towards the sand laughing the entire way to the water. Once I caught up with you, I grabbed your hands and pulled you close into my chest, kissing your forehead. When we broke apart I laid down a few blankets on the sand, noticing you were cold, I also gave you my sweater.

We stared at the stars and talked about anything and everything for hours. It felt magical. We stayed until the sun came up, watching the sunset before driving back to my house for some much needed rest.

Walking over to my closet, curious to know if that same sweater ended up back in my closet after that night. I reached in, digging around not finding anything and decided to look in my dresser instead. Of course, it was folded neatly in the drawer you used to call yours. Grabbing and shaking it out I noticed the light pieces of sand that fell from it. I brought it in to my nose wondering if it still smelt like your perfume. It did. I’m always tired lately, but never of you. Do you miss me too?

if i pulled a you on you, you wouldn’t like that shit, i put this reel out, but you wouldn’t bite that shit. i type a text then i never mind that shit, i got these feelings, but you never mind that shit. you’re still in love with me but your friends don’t know.

To Y/N: i wanna talk, i think...maybe i miss y-

*delete*

To Rafe: I miss you so much, it hurt someti-

*delete*

“Y/N...what’s going on? You’re off in never never land! Do you still miss him?” Kiara asked, gently shaking my knee to gain my attention back to the group. I looked at her and around at the rest of the pogues and put a smile on my face, shaking my head.

“Of course not, it’s been months! I’m so over him, guys. Besides even if I did, it wouldn’t matter.” I tried so hard to sound confident. I hope they bought it. Of fucking course, I miss Rafe. I’m still in love with him for gods sake. I hate that I want him.

✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿

Sure, i’ve moved on, but I think about y/n, just about everyday. I guess for me, moving on is finding someone new, but not actually wanting anyone new. I just couldn’t bare to be alone anymore with my thoughts. I deserve better than that, personally.

“Anyways Topper, if y/n wanted me still, she would say so right?” I looked at Topper, silently hoping he would lie to me, just tell me what I want to hear, man. “If I were her, I would’ve never let me go. She’s missing out.”

“Hell yea, dude! That’s the right attitude.” Topper said, jumping up to high five me. Of course, that was the statement he was on board with. I hate that I want you.

✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿

I haven’t been to a party in months, Kiara and Sarah thought that this would be the most fitting post-break up activity for me. Maybe meet a new guy or something. I tuned out when they were telling me about it and just agreed. What I neglected to listen to, was that it was a kook party. So now, i’m at a party alone, since my friends ditched me to dance with each other. And on top of that, I watch him watch her, like she’s the only girl he’s ever seen.

It took less than an hour of being at this party for us to end up in a room alone together.

“You don’t care! You never did!” Rafe shouted, running his hands through his hair, clearly exasperated with this conversation. I don’t even know how it started. One minute I was watching him with another girl, and the next he was hauling me off, away from everyone.

“You don’t give a damn about me, Rafe! How is it you never notice that you’re slowly killing me?” you wanted to yell back at him, to scream at him for putting you through this again, but you couldn’t. He didn’t say anything in return so you continued, “I hate you, and I hate that I love you, Rafe.” I’ve tried to move on, but even the simple thought of dating anyone but him, makes me physically ill. Why does it have to be like this?

“I don’t mean no harm, I just miss you on my arm, babe. Do you ever wonder what we could’ve been y/n?” He’s taunting me by asking dumb questions, as if I wanted this to happen, as if i’m the cause of all of this. Rafe’s the one that was closed off, not me. Of course, he switches the stories and i’m sure everyone at this damn party thinks I left him heart broken.

“You have a girlfriend, why are you even asking me that?” I was starting to get angry, I felt like he was toying with me.

He’s laughing. Of fucking course, he’s laughing at me. This is all one big fucking joke to him. “Lie to me, lie with me, get your fucking fix. Isn’t that what you always told your friends Rafe?” I was furious, how could he act that way after everything? He’s still a child though, that will never change.

✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿

You were right. I did lie to you, multiple times. About where I was, who I was with, what I was doing. I didn’t want you to know I was such a fuck up. You didn’t deserve the pain of finding out I was lying and cheating and drugging. You did anyways though. Now all my drinks and all my feelings are all fucking mixed.

“Rafe! Come dance with me!” I downed the rest of my drink before throwing the glass down and walking away from the new girl I was seeing. I didn’t care anymore.

I don’t want you, Y/N. I shouldn’t fucking miss you. I don’t deserve to! Seeing you again is such bullshit. If you wouldn’t have shown up here, I wouldn’t have said those things to you. Sometimes you gotta burn some bridges, just to create some distance. You didn’t deserve that, I knew it, but at least now you might learn your lesson and stay away. It’s for the best, right?

I hate that I love her, but I can’t put nobody else above her.

✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿

I wasn’t sure if I had the closure I needed, but after that particular conversation with Rafe I felt a little better. I returned to the party with my head held high and danced with my friends. I hoped he was watching me too since i’m not sure what he was trying to do by joking around at my expense. But maybe if he thinks it didn’t bother me he will know how it fucking feels.

I learned from my dad that it’s good to have feelings when love and trust is gone. I guess this is moving on. I hate you, I love you.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

#outer banks #rafe cameron #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron blurb #rafe cameron x reader #drew starkey #drew starkey imagine #outer banks imagine

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sleep-i-ness · 4 years

Text

*Let Bygones Be Bitches (Klaus Hargreeves x reader)

For @the--sad--hatter‘s Tea Party Challenge

**TRIGGER WARNING**: Substance abuse, mentions of overdose, probably swearing, glamourisation of drugs

I’m not really sure where I went with this. I also haven’t edited it but it’s something I wrote a while back for this challenge and I realised the deadline is tomorrow so I banged out the ending :)

Taglist: @neymarlionelmessi7 @persephonehemingway @blisfvll @20coldhearts

There was something so exhilaratingly freeing about drugs. No one had ever talked to you about that, school had drilled into you the terrible effects of them but as you fell into harder and harder drugs, that had been the last thing from your mind. Really, what you blamed was society. Drugs were only seen as bad if you were poor, if you were a junkie and homeless, or living in poverty. Never mind the upper classes who were almost always off their asses on cocaine; snorted off gold dishes and offered around at social gatherings. Your parents certainly had seen no problems in them; most of your childhood they were high, living life as carefree as possible. Who cared if they had a kid to look after? Well, that was what nannies were for. And you craved their attention. Their approval. So, you acted out more and more, getting kicked out of one posh private school after the other with nothing more than a warning letter from your father each time.

And so, drugs had ended up becoming an escape rather than the rebellion you had hoped to lead against the careless lifestyle of the rich. The schmoozing amongst those of your ‘kind’ was done over lines of cocaine and ever-flowing bottles of champagne, never sober enough to have to remember enduring pointless small talk. Life was too fun to bother with formalities, you and the reckless debutantes and bachelors of your age were jumping off roofs into pools and committing arson instead. And when you reached the ripe age of 21, you moved back to your childhood home, surrounded by staff and peers just like yourself, but no one who really cared. Your parents weren’t frugal to say the least, and your allowance grew each time you reached the limit. It was almost like a challenge to see how much you could spend in a month. It wasn’t like you were anywhere near close to running out.

Your town was almost a cultural phenomenon, known for being the residence of the Umbrella Academy, back in the days when they were actually a team. Not just one pitiful member left to sort out the messes by himself. You weren’t sure what had happened to anyone other than Allison, who had launched herself into super-stardom and therefore was constantly a topic of gossip when local drama was dull. Tonight, you had agreed to host your ‘friends’, who were bringing a few of their friends and you knew the place would be wrecked by the end of the night. You wished you could pretend to care about the priceless antiques and expensive imported furniture, but it was all just stuff. Stuff that could easily be replaced. It didn’t truly matter.

You awoke the next day under blinding light in an unrecognisable room, blank white walls glaringly painful. You weren’t at home, that was for sure, nowhere was decorated this hideously at home. As your vision swam into focus, you saw the IV drip hooked up to your arm and heart monitor beeping steadily. Oh fuck, you were in the hospital again. And they hadn’t even bothered to put you in your family’s private suite; you were sure to be making a complaint as soon as you got out.

“Oh good, Miss Y/L/N, you’re awake.” A nurse bustled over, and you bit back the remark that was on the tip of the tongue. You were so sure that nurses were meant to be female, but clearly not in this case. “You were brought in last night, having had a seizure with a dangerously high body temperature and heart rate.”

Oh, that would be the effects of a cocaine overdose. You knew enough about them, having both experienced them first-hand and seen others having them, to know the symptoms. You remained silent, knowing that your family’s private doctor would soon have you out of this dump in the more public area and away from prying eyes. Your parents had people working to ensure that any scandals would be hushed up, so you assumed that this was just a blip before they set you up in a place a bit more suited to your wealth.

“How are you feeling now?” The nurse asked, checking the monitor at the end of your bed, and noting down something on a clipboard.

“Absolutely wonderful,” you remarked dryly, voice hoarse, mouth dry as sandpaper.

“Good, good,” he muttered, placing the tatty clipboard back in the scratched plastic holder. Your upper lip curled; that did not look very sanitary.

The nurse strode out looking purposeful and you wondered what purpose he actually had considering that doctors were the ones who actually did any work.

As the plastic ticking of a clock and heavy breathing of the infirm filled the air, you rolled your eyes, feeling ill at the thought of all of the germs floating around you. The off-white paint was peeling in the corner, cracks running down the wall, disrupting blotchy yellow marks of discolouration. As your eyes roved over the disgusting state of the ward, the scuff marks on the blue linoleum floor caught your gaze and you held back a groan. Did they not clean the place?

“Hey,” a languid voice called from the bed next to you and you frowned, brows furrowing as you tried to figure out whether he was talking to you. “Hey, miss judgemental.”

“Excuse me?”

“Sorry, don’t know your name.” His tone implied he didn’t even care, and you sneered, why had he even bothered to try and start a conversation? “Was I not meant to notice the disgusted looks you were giving the ward?”

“Do I know you?” He clearly wasn’t somebody you would have mixed with, eyes ringed with the remnants of a couple day’s old eyeliner and hair mussed up, strands sticking up in various directions. But there was still something that made you hesitate.

“I’m Klaus.” Klaus… That was a Scandinavian name, right? Maybe he was related to the Bengtsson twins.

“I’m Y/N, Y/N Y/L/N.” You waited for the expected exclamation of awe or some form of recognition at least. There was nothing and you snuck a peek at Klaus who had merely raised an eyebrow.

“Y/L/N?” He seemed to be trying to recall something from deep in the dregs of his memory, eyes fluttering shut. “Hang on, wasn’t there a kidnapping? Something about a ransom that wasn’t paid?”

You froze.

There had been so many lawsuits and pulling of strings to ensure that that story never came out.

“How the hell do you know about that?” You hissed lowly, glancing around at the other patients who seemed fast asleep or too deaf to hear anything.

Klaus raised his eyebrows and widened his eyes, taken aback at your reaction. “What do you mean?”

“No one knows about that. No one.”

“Well, I do.” Clearly. Your breathing had sped up and your head felt light. It was all over. You were safe. You were okay. They weren’t here. Goddamn it, why wasn’t it working! The sudden bolt of anger flashed through the fog, but you were too numb to process it.

Klaus had pursed his lips, eyes narrowed, and eyebrows furrowed. Your brain marked that it was an amusing expression. “Hey, Y/N, just breathe with me, okay? Breathe in for 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, hold for 1, 2, 3, breathe out for 1, 2, 3, 4, 5.”

You followed his counting, eyes squeezed shut as your ears focused in on his voice. The bustle of hospital eased out as your breathing filled your thoughts. Every breath was forced out, long but shallow as your heart pounded in your head, the beat deafening.

You gasped, suddenly realising where you knew him from. “Klaus… Hargreeves? You were there. That’s why you know.”

The crisp, starchy sheets were clean under your grip, crinkling between your fingers as you clenched your hands subconsciously. Leaning closer to him to watch his response, he nodded slowly, head slowly lifting to make eye contact. A mask had dropped, eyes showing something a lot more vulnerable.

“Yeah. That one was one of the worst.”

“I’m sorry.”

It was your fault. And you’d thought the only one affected was you.

“Parents, right?” Klaus murmured, propping himself up on one arm as he continued to watch you.

Your parents hadn’t even cared. They hadn’t bothered to pay the ransom. The kidnappers had slowly stopped bothering to even come visit you with food. Leaving you to slowly died. No one had cared.

And then the Umbrella Academy had turned up. And you’d had the hope rekindled that someone cared.

Your return to your parents had been a surprise, a ‘wonderful surprise’ as they claimed. And the hope has sunk, like a lead balloon as you realised that they hadn’t wanted you back.

“Yeah.” You nodded, knowing nothing needed to be said to explain it. “I feel like it might be a billionaire thing.”

Klaus hummed, rolling onto his back with a dramatic groan as he threw his arms into the air. He stretched out, limbs unfurling like a cat, lithe and supple. The crinkle of plastic caught your ear and you snapped your head towards him, just catching sight of his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed quickly. He stretched out his arms and the plastic bag glinted in his hand. You grabbed it from him, gratefully swallowing the small blue pill inside.

“You know what, Klaus,” you paused, fiddling with the end of your sleeves. “I feel like we might be more similar than expected.”

He grinned, an almost maniacal twinkle in his eyes. “God, we’re such a cliché. Bonding over childhood trauma? Where’d we get that idea from? Some angsty YA novel?”

He snorted at his own joke and you couldn’t help but smile in response, noting the way his eyes crinkled at the corners and the small dimples popping in his cheeks.

Hopefully, this would follow the cliché trope right to the happy ending.

#klaus #klaus hargreeves #tua klaus #tua #the umbrella academy #tua imagine #klaus x reader #klaus x you #klaus x y/n #klaus hargreeves x reader #klaus hargreeves x you #klaus hargreeves x y/n

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her-story6 · 4 years

Text

“5 times Cathy calls Lina ‘mum’ and 1 time Lina calls Cathy her daughter”

aka, my most recent procrastination project. I promise I’ll get to the other fics, y’all, I swear. Thank you for being so patient.

Note- I don’t usually hc Cathy as calling Lina ‘mum’ but it was fun to explore for one fic.

No one could ever figure out how Cathy was always the last one to get sick when a bug went through the house. It was just how it was, every time.

Funnily enough, every time, she would do the same old routine. The others don’t think she noticed the pattern, but it was blatantly obvious to them, and it would be annoying if it wasn’t so endearing.

First, she would try and deny it, but once they made it to the theater, she couldn’t hide it for very long before she was frog marched back home and into bed. From there someone, usually Catalina, would stay by her side for a few days until she had either become less stubborn or more lucid. Either way, she would eventually give in and agree to rest. Finally, she would come back around and pretend like nothing ever happened.

Honestly, this cycle happened in some form or another for all the Queens, so no one said anything. They all had their own reactions to illness that more or less stemmed from past trauma, and none of them desired to relive anything like that.

The most recent illness was no different.

To no one's surprise, Cathy had been driven home by Catalina between the afternoon and evening performances, and the elder were currently in the process of trying to get her goddaughter into bed without physical injury.

“Look, Cathy, love, just let me help you,” Lina tried again as Cathy just barely caught herself on the kitchen counter instead of tumbling to the floor.

“I got it, Ari,” the sixth Queen huffed, face scrunching in concentration. She was probably trying to sound determined and intimidating, but Catalina would have laughed if she wasn't so exasperated

“Mija, you barely made it inside without cracking your skull on the ice. I'm begging you, just let me hold your arm when you go up the steps.”

Cathy, who had been taking a short break on a stool, glanced slowly between the aforementioned steps and her godmother, clearly thinking carefully (or as carefully as she could in her half-lucid state) before sighing.

“Fine. But just to get you off my back.”

“Fair enough, querida.” Catalina smirked before sliding forward and linking arms with the smaller woman. Cathy struggled to stand for a moment, before allowing Lina to lead her to the steps.

The first Queen would have been very worried about her goddaughter’s sudden lack of basic motor skills, except it was already a miracle she had managed to survive one show without passing out. This specific illness had caused even Anna, the most composed of all of them, to slide magnificently down the theater staircase before telling Jane all sorts of embarrassing secrets..

They had all been so tired and so out of it that they had practically blacked out for three days, and with the hazy mind came awkward conversations and hours laying in bed.

By the time they reached the top of two flights of stairs, Catalina was supporting basically all of Cathy’s weight. She regarded this as a good thing, though, as it meant that the girl would put up little fight in going to bed.

“Lina, don't we have a show?” Cathy broke the silence that had formed when they reached her door, rolling her head to look at her godmother.

“Not right now, Cath. It's time for bed.” Catalina noted the shift in tone and adapted accordingly, lowering her tone and slowing her speech.

“It's bedtime?”

“Exactly, querida,” Catalina chuckled. “Do you want to change clothes?”

Cathy let out a long, almost dramatic groan as she glanced between the dresser and the bed, before shaking her head.

“No. I wanna sleep.”

“Alright, then. Come on.”

The older woman led Cathy to the bed and helped her get situated under the covers. While she burrowed deeply so was barely distinguishable under the blankets, Catalina turned to close the curtains and set down the water bottle she had slipped under her arm on the way up here.

After said tasks were done, she sat down on the edge of the bed and reached over to brush a lock of hair out of her goddaughter’s eyes.

“Sweet dreams, mi hija. I'll be right downstairs if you need me.”

“Mhmmm” Cathy hummed in acknowledgment, pushing slightly into the touch as she shifted in bed. Catalina smiled softly at her for a moment, before leaning down and pressing a kiss to her forehead.

“I love you, mi hermosa hija,” she whispered softly as she rose from the bed and walked towards the door. Just as she was about to slip through it, though, a quiet mutter from Cathy stopped her dead in her tracks.

“Love you too, mum.”

Catalina didn't mention that night to anyone.

She didn't mention how her heart skipped a beat, and then she couldn’t stop smiling all night.

She didn’t tell the other Queens of the slip-up, because she could imagine their amused and slightly concerned expressions now.

She most certainly didn’t say anything to Cathy, because honestly- she didn’t want to know whether she meant it or not, or if she would be ashamed or proud, or if she truly felt that way.

As such, the first Queen tried her best to continue life as normal. Pushing the incident to the back of her mind, she was almost able to act completely normal around her goddaughter again.

Until, of course, she said something that was arguably even more heart-stopping.

“Querida, I’m sorry, but I don’t think that’s very reasonable,” Catalina tried to reason as the two faced off in the kitchen. The other four were lounging in the living room and trying very hard to not be seen listening in.

“Come on, Catty, just think about it, I mean-”

“No, Cathy. That’s just not realistic. I’m sorry, love.”

“But, madrina-” the sixth Queen whined, leaning dramatically over the counter. Catalina, who had been digging around in the fridge for ingredients (as Cathy had interrupted her while she was fixing dinner), turned around much faster than she meant to and stared at her goddaughter open-mouthed.

“What did you just say?”

“I- oh, I’m so sorry,” Cathy began to stutter as she sat back and looked down, “I didn’t mean, I mean, I did, but if you’re not alright with it, then I’ll never say it again, of course, I’m sorry, I-”

“No!” Catalina exclaimed, then immediately composed herself. “No, it’s fine. It’s great actually.”

“Really?”

“Yes, of course. It’s only fair, if I call you hija then why can’t you call me madrina?” Catalina smiled, reaching across the counter to squeeze Cathy’s arm gently. The younger woman gave her a hesitant smile, then nodded.

“Alright, good.”

“Good,” Catalina echoed. She watched her goddaughter for a few more moments, pretending not to feel Jane’s amused gaze on them, then took a step back. “The answer’s still no, though, mija.”

“Ughhhhhhh,” Cathy groaned dramatically, lowering her forehead onto the counter. “Fiinneeee”

Catalina could do nothing but chuckle.

III

It had been a few weeks and Catalina was just about used to hearing the word ‘madrina’ from her goddaughter’s mouth and every time, she couldn’t help but beam. The proud look on Cathy’s face when she noticed was almost enough to give her a heart attack.

What really did give her a heart attack, though, was when she received a call from the hospital, telling her that Cathy had been in an accident.

This certainly wasn’t the first time one of them had ended up in an ambulance.

Anne, of course, had taken multiple trips, but there was also the time Jane sprained her wrist and when Anna had taken a wrong step on her morning jog and ended up in an ankle cast for the next two months.

As such, after the doctors assured her that Cathy was all fine and they just needed someone to pick her up because the car was not drivable, the panic wore off and she was more relieved than worried.

When she arrived at the hospital, the nurses led her outside a sitting room where she could see Cathy sitting, holding her purse close to her chest and bouncing her leg restlessly. The nurse peaked her head into the room, gesturing for Lina to stay put, and said-

“Catherine, your mother’s here to pick you up. You have all the forms settled, so you’re free to go.”

Before Catalina could say anything, the nurse disappeared around a corner as Cathy slipped through the door.

“Heyyyy,” Cathy started, shifting her purse so it was over her shoulder and looking up at her godmother. “Sorry about that, they didn’t seem to like my idea of just getting a taxi home.”

Catalina was relieved to see that Cathy was more embarrassed than nervous, so she decided to ignore the elephant in the room as the two started walking to the exit.

“No problem, mija. I’m just glad you’re alright.”

“Yeah, me too,” she chuckled. “It wasn’t my fault, by the way. The other guy took full responsibility and his insurance will pay for everything.”

“That’s good.” Catalina nodded, holding the door open as they went outside. Cathy shivered slightly against the nipping wind, but said nothing else on the walk to the car.

Once they were back on the road, though, Catalina grew tired of the awkward silence.

“So,” she started, and out of her peripherals she could see Cathy shift, “mother, huh?” Catalina tried to keep her tone light and amused, and was grateful when her goddaughter let out a soft chuckle.

“Yeah, sorry about that. It was all so rushed and I didn’t want to make it more complicated than it had to be by explaining our relationship. They wouldn’t even let me call you.”

“No worries, I was just wondering. Our relationship is pretty hard to explain.”

“You can say that again,” Cathy agreed, and the two laughed as the conversation easily shifted to a more lighthearted topic.

“Oh, come on Catherine! Do you really have to be so uptight all the time?”

The room suddenly became silent at Cathy’s outburst, all heads, which had previously been focused on a heated argument between Anne and Catalina, turning to the sixth Queen. Cathy took this as permission to continue.

“I’m sorry, but you really need to lighten up some times! Anne just wants to go out with Kat and I for a night, what’s the big deal?”

Catalina was taken aback, unaware that her goddaughter was even involved in the issue, but didn’t back down.

“The big deal is that it’s not safe. I’m not letting you stay out all night in the middle of winter, especially with the roads like they are. We are already down one vehicle, we can’t lose the other one too.” The first Queen tried to keep her voice even, but the look of anger in Cathy’s eyes caused her to waver on the last few words.

“Why do you even get a say? We’re all adults in this situation and it’s really none of your business,” Cathy countered. Anne had taken a step back and was now more of a spectator than a participant. Arguments between Cathy and Lina were rare, and when it happened, they all knew not to get involved.

“First of all because it’s my name on the car registration,” Lina started, quickly losing patience. “Secondly because I don’t want any of you getting hurt when I can stop it.”

“You wouldn’t stop Anna or Jane from going!” Cathy exclaimed, throwing her hands in the air. “It’s just because you don’t trust us.”

“That is not true at all and you know it, Catherine Parr.” Catalina’s voice had lowered dangerously, and Anna and Kitty took an actual step back.

“Do I?! How would you know how I think?”

“You need to calm down. It’s been a long week and we all need a break,” Catalina once again tried to reason calmly, having caught herself before she could make the conversation spiral further.

“Come on, mom! You can’t control us forever.”

“I don’t know what’s going on with you right now, but I think you should-,” Catalina stopped dead when her brain registered what Cathy had said. “Wait, what?!”

“I-” Cathy’s voice suddenly returned to its normal pitch as she came to the same realization. The room was frozen for a solid minute, all eyes back on Cathy, as her eyes grew wide and her face contorted in confusion. “Whatever.” She finally scoffed, then immediately disappeared up the steps.

Catalina watched after her, mouth wide open and blinking comically. Only the sudden cackling laughter from Jane brought her out of a stupor.

“Oh my god!” Jane said through laughter. “That was beautiful.”

“Jane-” Anna warned, but there was a clear amused smirk on her face as well.

“You all heard that too, right?” Catalina turned to them, still reeling.

“Oh, yeah!” Jane beamed widely, reaching forward to pat her friend’s arm. “Good luck with that, love.”

“Oh, thanks,” Catalina said sarcastically, rolling her eyes even as she tried to process the last few minutes.

“So.....” Anne interjected after a few moments of silence, the word clearly a question.

“No, Anne,” Jane answered her question before it could be asked. “It was a stupid idea in the first place and I think Cathy’s out for the night anyway.” Catalina sent the third Queen a grateful look for taking the question.

“Ughhhh, fine,” Anne huffed dramatically. “It’s probably for the better anyway. Now Kit and I can finish our movie marathon.”

It was quite a statement on Catalina’s mental state when she said nothing to try and discourage the cousins from pulling (another) all-nighter, and the two took the momentary lapse to disappear up the steps. This hesitation was also noticed by Jane and Anna, who glanced at each other in concern.

“You alright, Lina?”

“I-” she started, then paused and leaned back against the fridge with a sigh, “This is going to be a really awkward conversation, isn’t it?”

Jane chuckled softly, nodding. “Yeah, probably. Kitty called me ‘mum’ once and she didn’t look me in the eye again for a week.”

“That’s just the thing, though. This isn’t the first time.”

“It isn’t?” Anna joined in the conversation now, sliding onto a stool across from the other two women.

“I mean, we all know she calls me ‘madrina’, which is different, but still. But she was really sick one night and right before she fell asleep, she, uh... she said ‘love you too mum’”

“Awwwww” Jane cooed, smiling cheekily.

“Not helpful, Jane,” Catalina bit back, without any real force behind it.

“Sorry, sorry, I know. But seriously, do you have a problem with it?”

“No! I mean, I don’t want to make it a normal thing, obviously, but it’s nice to know that she thinks of me like that.”

“Then what’s the issue?” Anna asked, leaning her chin her hand and tilting her head.

“I just don’t want her to feel weird about it. We’ve had.... conversations. About her mother and my Mary and not replacing them and the like, and I just.... I don’t know, it just feels weird.”

“That makes sense. I suggest you let it rest for now. Wait for her to come to you, maybe.”

“You’re right, Jane, I know,” Catalina shook her head, sighing once more. “There’s nothing I can do for now. Thank you, ladies.”

“No problem, Ari.” Anna smiled, and Jane nodded in agreement. “Go get some sleep.”

“That’s exactly the plan. Maybe I’ll stop by Anne’s room on the way and apologize. Good night, Queens.” Catalina nodded politely at them, then slipped up the stairs.

“Good night,” they echoed, sending each other one last amused look before carrying on with their nightly routine.

It had been two days, and Catalina was trying her best to be patient, but Cathy had yet to initiate any conversation with her, let alone one about the topic that was very clearly weighing heavily on both of their minds.

It was painfully clear that they were avoiding each other, and based on Jane’s annoyed sighs and Anna’s pointed glances, the others had noticed as well.

Eventually, though, to everyone’s surprise, it was Cathy who broke the silence.

“Lina, can you help me fix dinner?”

Alright, so it wasn’t what she was hoping to hear, but at least it was something. Catalina, of course, accepted immediately and the two soon found themselves alone in the kitchen, once again surrounded by an uncomfortable silence.

It wasn’t until the meal was in the oven that the first Queen decided enough was enough.

“Cathy, I think we need to-” Catalina started, setting down the bowl she had been washing.

“I really don’t want to talk about it, Ari. Can’t we just pretend it never happened? Please?”

The sincerity in her goddaughter's voice almost caused Catalina to give in, but she shook her head and stood her ground.

“You know we can’t, querida. Let’s just get it over with, huh?”

Cathy looked ready to object, but after a quick internal battle, she sighed and nodded, turning the faucet off and jumping up on the counter. Catalina watched her carefully, then followed suit, setting down her washcloth and leaning against the fridge.

“First of all,” Cathy started, shifting so her feet were tucked under her. Lina held back a comment about dirty shoes on the counter as her goddaughter composed her thoughts. “I just wanted to apologize for the argument in the first place. It was stupid and I didn’t mean anything that I said.”

Catalina nodded slowly, mulling over her words, before asking simply- “Anything?”

Cathy hesitated, knowing exactly what she was referring to. “I-,” she paused, swallowing hard. “I honestly don’t know. I was worried at first that you would be uncomfortable, that I had crossed a boundary, and of course I don’t plan on... on calling you that on a regular basis or anything, but....... I dunno.”

Catalina nodded once more, then allowed herself to hesitate, set on thinking out her thoughts before saying them.

“I completely understand. As we’re being honest, I also have to say that I could not tell you all my feelings about it. I think- I think that if it became a habit, I might not be very comfortable with that, but I would never be upset about a slip-up. And every so often, if it comes out... less on accident, I don’t think I would protest too hard.”

“No, yeah, I get it.” Cathy nodded, visibly relaxing as the tension seeped away. “What had me so confused was the difference between ‘madrina’ and ‘mom’. Two completely different connotations, but I have no way of putting the specifics in words.”

“Yeah! Yeah, that was exactly what I was thinking.” Catalina nodded, a smile forming on her face. “It’s actually really nice, to know that you see me like that, because I completely reciprocate that feeling. It’s very clearly not a traditional relationship, but we don’t have to explain it to anyone else if we don’t want to.”

“The word ‘traditional’ doesn’t apply to anything in this house, it seems,” Cathy joked, and then smirked slightly. “You know, that wasn’t the first time I had made that mistake.”

“Oh, I know,” said Catalina simply. Cathy seemed surprised for only a moment before she just shook her head and chuckled softly.

“So we’re good?”

“Of course, mija.” Catalina nodded, reaching to squeeze her goddaughter’s leg. “I’m sorry I didn’t bring this up earlier. I was just nervous you would say something I didn’t want to hear.”

“Oh, me too. But I’m glad we got it all sorted.”

The two stared at each other for a few more moments, just smiling and allowing themselves to appreciate the moment.

‘The moment’, however, was cut off with a shrill beep from the stove, which caused Catalina to jump and bump her side on the fridge handle.

“Ow!”

“Oh, careful, madrina.” Cathy smiled cheekily, “Don’t want to break those fragile old bones of yours.”

“I’ll have you know, mija,” Catalina retorted, as they both set to work on taking out the pans and setting them out on the counter, “These bones are barely a year old. I think I’ll be fine.”

“If anything, that’s more concerning! These bones materialized out of thin air!”

“Oh, please querida, don’t give me an existential crisis right now, I can’t handle it.”

“Your old lady brain struggling to keep up?” Cathy asked, barely containing a laugh.

“Why, you-!”

And when the others came down to the duo ignoring the still beeping oven as they bickered, they didn’t say anything, too relieved to see that they were speaking again.

The Queens didn’t go out to bars together very much anymore, after numerous bad experiences their first few months, but every so often, when a large celebration was in order, they made an exception for Anne and allowed the second Queen to bring them around to her favorite establishments.

By this point in the night, there had already been multiple counts of harassment amongst the six of them, and no one was really reacting anymore. Even Lina, who was above only Cathy in the ‘most likely to get catcalled’ list, had been forced to get a little snippy when a man wouldn’t leave her alone.

Cathy, of course, was blissfully unaware of most of this.

The others had tried to explain to her multiple times why she wasn’t harassed nearly as much as the others.

(‘It’s because you look like a twelve year old’ Anne had suggested, and then Anna had shaken her head and said ‘No, it’s just because you look like you would kill anyone who touched you. That’s a compliment, by the way’.)

That wasn’t to say she was completely unharmed, for she had of course had her fair share of bad experiences. They were just rarer.

This, apparently, was just one of those nights, though, because as Catalina made her way back from the bathroom at their most recent (and final, accordion to Jane) bar, she just barely caught her goddaughter’s curly hair peeking out from behind a large muscular man leaning over her on the other side of the room.

Immediately, the first Queen changed her route and pushed through the throng, trying to gauge the situation before interrupting. As she grew closer, she began to catch snippets of their conversation.

“Come on, beautiful,” the man sneered, leaning cockily against the wall and effectively cutting off Cathy’s escape route.

“I already said no, I’m sorry,” Cathy responded, much calmer than Lina had worried. “Look, I just want to go back to my friends, please.”

Something in the man’s expression changed, and Catalina had no desire to see what happened next (it could have been fine, but she wasn’t going to take that chance) so she sped up and covered the last remaining ground in seconds, before sliding seamlessly between her goddaughter and the man.

“Kindly leave my daughter alone, sir,” Catalina tried to be as civil as possible, crossing her arms and drawing herself up to her full height.

“Your daughter?” the man questioned, scoffing slightly. He leaned around Lina to peer at Cathy. “You come to bars with your mom?”

“Actually I come to bars with my daughter, but that’s really none of your business. Please just leave her alone.”

He looked ready to argue, but with one raised eyebrow from Lina, he decided it wasn’t worth it and turned on his heel, walking away while muttering something under his breath.

“Thank you, but I really didn’t need your help. It was more amusing than anything.” Cathy rolled her eyes, stepping out and following her godmother through the crowd back to their table.

“I know, I just thought it was better to be safe than sorry.”

“Fair enough.” Cathy nodded, then hesitated. “‘Your daughter’, huh?”

Catalina let out a barking laugh, then cocked her head in thought, pulling Cathy to a stop. Cathy tilted her head in curiosity, glancing back at her godmother. Finally, Catalina simply nodded and said, now completely serious-

“You heard me.”

#six the musical #fanfiction #six the musical fanfiction #my writing

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hvllevator · 4 years

Text

mismatch ; wong yukhei (teaser)

↳ Lucas never lived an easy life. Being introduced to vices at such a young age took a toll on him. Boxing being one of them. His father made him think that love was unworthy of his time and that he was undeserving of love, so it was never in Lucas’ dictionary to fall in love. That was until he met a girl who cried during one of his boxing matches. Will you be able to pull him out of darkness? Will he change for the better?

pairing: wong yukhei x female reader

genre: angst, fluff, (none for this teaser but in the final it does) smut, boxer!au

warnings: the finished story will contain mention of violence, drugs, mental illnesses, abuse, sexual content, swearing

words: 981 (bc this is only a teaser!)

a/n: this is purely fictional and if you are uncomfortable with any of the topics ive mentioned in my warning, please refrain from reading. please tell me what you think! ive been working real hard on this and i would hate for it to go to waste :( also did i make it clear that this is a teaser

Lucas was raised to be independent, not like he had a choice. His father was a drug addict and his mother left him before he could even open his eyes. His father often mistreated him, reminding him every second of his life that he was a mistake and that his mother should’ve aborted him when she had the chance then maybe she would still be with him. Lucas lived with constant threats coming his way, he somehow learned how to cope with them. It wasn’t until one day he finally had enough, with a bat in hand he used it against his father. Lucas was then taken away from him and was forced to live with his grandmother. Having no one to really rely on, he was introduced to a few vices at such a young age, 14 years old to be exact. Smoking, drinking, and even taking up drugs just to name a few. Boxing was one of them. He found comfort in beating an opponent till they’re left unconscious, all the pent up anger in him was finally being released. It didn’t take long before Lucas was known to be one of the best underground boxers in the area. He was ruthless and merciless when it came to the ring. The money he got through boxing was enough to supply him for the next few months of living. As soon as he turned legal age, he bought an apartment for himself, wanting to be away from his so called family as best as he can. Not that it was difficult since he wasn’t really that close with his grandmother, and his father never really cared about him, so Lucas packed up his bags and left home the very second he can. Lucas was thankful for the friends he made along his boxing journey. Qian Kun was one of them, a fellow boxer who he trained together with. Kun was one of the people he trusted the most, he was the one who helped him when he was in a really dark place.

Lucas was also known for someone who loved to fuck, with girls practically throwing theirselves at him, who was he to pass up the opportunity of having a great orgasm for the night. He had one night stands here and there, even having girls cry over him leaving before they could even wake up in the morning. He wasn’t one to do relationships, the thought of being tied down to one person sickened him. He knew he wasn’t cut out for all the romantic shit, he feared that he would repeat the same mistakes his father did. Although Lucas knew he was better than his old man and that he would never take advantage of his fighting skills, he wanted to be safe rather than sorry.

Lucas had a fight tonight, nothing really new. Wrapping the bandages on his hand, he did a few stretches before slipping on the mouth guard. Kun wished him good luck before entering the ring. It didn’t take long before his opponent was knocked out, slipping the mouth guard out, a triumph smirk made its way on his face as he was being announced as the winner. He barely had any damage done to his face. As he was stepping off the ring, his gaze landed on a pretty girl who had tears streaming down her face from when she watched the match. His eyebrows furrowed as he watched her wipe her tears.

You were practically dragged to watch this boxing match you had absolutely no interest in, if it wasn’t for your best friend then you truly wouldn’t have come. Pulling the “I would do your laundry for two weeks” card had you seated in the front row of a cruel match. Wincing every time someone threw a punch against one another. You admit that you were not used to this sight at all, so you couldn’t help the tears that were slipping out of your eyes. As soon as the fight ended, you wanted to leave but Soyeon still wouldn’t let you since her boyfriend hasn’t appeared in the ring. Wiping your tears away, you lifted your head to see who was being announced as the winner of the round. Surprised that the person getting off the ring was already staring at you. You watched as he purposely held eye contact with you, striding towards you until he was fully in front of you.

His eyes were filled with worry, his stare was making you uncomfortable and you’re sure that your confusion was written on your face.

“Are you okay?” He asked, and you wondered why.

“Y-yeah? Why wouldn’t I be?” You felt your breathing increase. He was the winner of the match, and you knew there were plenty of eyes on you. Some even snapping pictures maybe.

“You were crying.” He stated as if it was the most obvious thing in the world

“You saw that?”

“Of course. You don’t seem like the type to watch these fights.” He smirked, he was attractive that’s for sure.

“I’m not.” You shook your head.

“Yo Lucas! Come and get your prize!” You heard a voice called out, making Lucas groan. He took a step away from you before turning his heel and approaching whoever called him, he turned his head back to you and winked at you before leaving completely. What just happened?

Lucas was rushing to claim his prize, his foot tapping on the floor impatiently as the money was being counted awfully slow.

“Shouldn’t you prepare this shit before the match?” Lucas snapped, glaring at the teller. They ignored his remark, continuing with what they were doing. Lucas sighed and shook his head, thinking that you will probably be gone by the time he comes back. He was right, the seat you were previously sitting on was now empty.

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doing-all-write · 5 years

Text

don’t be a baby part 2

Pairing: Billy x Fem!Reader

Summary: After losing Billy, Reader doesn’t know what to do with herself. After receiving some news about a millionaire who’s been murdering people, she convinces Billy’s old Sky Walker crew to train her so she can take him down. But the mission doesn’t go as planned and suddenly, there’s a man offering her a position on an elite team...

Read part 1 HERE

Word Count: 14K

Warnings: Swearing, blood, fight sequences, needles, mentions of smut and talk of depression.

A/N: HAPPY VALENTINES DAY AND HERE IT IS!!! Part two of don’t be a baby!! Thank you all so so much for your patience, I wanted to be sure this story was perfect and I hope all love it! Once again, a HUGE thank you to @itsabenthing who is always a wonderful source of inspiration and helps to keep me on track and to @mrhoemazzello for hyping me up at all times and for letting me bounce ideas off her!! And don’t worry...there will be a third part 😉

💖💖As always, likes, comments and reblogs are always appreciated! 💖💖

365 days.

That's not a long time.

A year on Neptune is the equivalent of 164 years on Earth. Bowhead whales can live up to 200 years. The Methuselah tree is 4,700 years old.

365 days is nothing.

What's one lousy year in the grand scheme of things?

Compared to one day.

24 hours to have your whole world ripped out from underneath you. To believe that up is down and down is up. To feel your feet leave the earth as you pitch forward into a tunnel where time passes both far too quickly and not quickly enough.

One 30 second phone call can feel like the longest thing in the world.

To some, 365 days may not feel all that long, but to others?

365 days is far too long.

~One Month After the Funeral~

“(Y/N)? It’s me. You doing okay?” Mark winced when he realized how dumb that question was.

Setting the bags of food down on the kitchen table, he opened the fridge. His heart clenched when he saw the food he had put there a week ago sitting untouched.

It had been the worst right after the funeral. When he came over on the days following the funeral she would be in the same clothes he had last seen her in, staring at the wall or ceiling. On good days her cheeks would be dry, on bad days? The tears would soak her pillow case.

He had nicked Mary, Billy’s sister’s, number from (Y/N)’s phone. Figuring that Mary may have some professional resources she could recommend to get (Y/N) the help she desperately needed to pick herself back up.

After a few weeks of her catatonic state, she started moving more. But it was almost worse. She was like a zombie.

He’d tell her maybe she should shower or eat and in slow robotic movements she’d do what he asked, then crawl back into bed. Eyes empty. Flat.

The passivity broke his heart.

There hadn’t been a time when Mark and (Y/N) had been growing up when she wasn’t passionate about something. When that familiar light in her eyes had burned bright.

Without it, it felt like looking at a mannequin of his sister.

Sighing, he loaded the new food into her fridge. Taking the old stuff out he figured, if it wasn’t moldy, he could feed it to Jean, who was like a human garbage disposal. He claimed grief made him starving.

As Mark stood up, he faced the bedroom door and felt his shoulders slump forward. He knew what was waiting for him on the other side and he didn’t want to see it. He knew he was a coward but part of him just wanted to walk out the front door and pretend that his sister was on the other side, totally fine, she was just sleeping and he’d come back next week and she’d greet him with a smile and a hug.

Something he hadn’t seen in, well, in a month.

Feeling his shoulders creep up towards his ears as he stood outside her bedroom door, he made a conscious effort to relax them.

“Hey, (Y/N), you awake?”

Nudging the door open, he peered into her room, taking stock of it. It looked exactly the same as last time he had checked on her. The soft rise and fall of her side underneath her blanket the only movement. Taking a moment to capture how serene she looked, he quietly closed the door behind him, taking a minute to send up a plea that he would do anything, anything, for his sister if it just meant that one day he’d see her up and out of her bed.

A buzzing by her ear woke her up. Groaning, she slapped her hand around the bed, trying in vain to stay semi-unconscious. The buzzing came faster, one right after the other, reminding her of how her phone had acted the day Billy’d died. Heart dropping through the floorboards, her eyes flew open.

Sitting up and shoving the blankets back in one quick motion only caused her to hear a loud thud. Cursing, she crawled over to the edge, allowing her top half to go limp as her bottom half stayed put on her bed.

Pushing her hair back with one hand she turned her phone over to see what was happening. News alert after news alert was scrolling in. They all said the same thing,

Local Billionaire Accused of Dumping Toxic Waste in Ocean.

Her eyebrows knitted together as she read the remainder of the story. There was something tugging at her subconscious as she read. This billionaire, Chase Casewell, had a reputation for being a real prick and after using his family's money to get through business school and have his first idea fail (an app that told Influencers when the best time to post would be) he had made his millions by starting a brand that specialized in shoes, ugly beige monstrosities if she remembered correctly.

It had just come out that he had instructed the plants that made his shoes to dump the waste into the ocean. The chemicals they’d used had poisoned the water supply, causing the fish to become infected with the chemicals. Then, the local fisherman would catch the fish, take them home to their families, eat them, then the fishermen and their families would end up in the hospital.

Her hospital.

She sat bolt upright as she remembered the string of mysterious illnesses that had ended up in her ward a few weeks before she had met Billy that first time. If the victims were lucky, they ended up puking their guts out for a few days and, after being hooked up to an IV to re-hydrate, she’d send them on their way.

Others would linger for a few days then quietly slip away. The chemicals flowing through their bloodstream till their veins ran thick with poison, where it finally creeped up to their heart where the poisons would wrap themselves around their most vital organ. Suffocating it until it gave out entirely.

The one that had affected her the most was Isabella, a small girl with dark braids and a love of Frozen. The only thing that’d make her smile was when (Y/N) would come in with a stuffed Olaf and have him ask her for a warm hug. She had been holding this little girl's hand, watching Frozen when her heart just...gave out.

She had gone to the funeral but shame and guilt burned bright inside till she felt like there was a beacon surrounding her, letting everyone at the funeral know it was her fault that Isabella had passed away.

As the pieces clicked together in her mind she felt an inferno roar to life inside her. It burned away the sadness and despair she’d been wallowing in ever since Billy left only to leave behind rage and guilt. The emotions boiled in her stomach, bile climbing up her throat as she stumbled to the bathroom

Collapsing over the toilet, heaving and retching, she knew nothing was coming up but her body worked overtime to expunge the horror she felt in any way it could. Her body spasming as waves of emotions crashed through her system.

Several minutes passed till she finally felt the nausea start to ebb. Slumping against the wall, she hung her head over the toilet as she took steadying breaths, making sure that her body wasn’t going to rebel again.

When she lifted her head, she had made a decision.

"Alrigh', alrigh' I'm coming. Quite your bloody knocking you crazy-"

Jean's rant was cut short when he saw (Y/N) on the other side of the door decked out in black athletic gear, hair pulled back in a tight braid. Jean's eyes widened as he made contact with her own eyes. A fire could get started with the steely glint that was reflected back at him.

"I need you to train me."

"T-train you?" Jean's hands were instantly coated in sweat as he contemplated what she was talking about.

"Yes. Like how you trained Billy and Mark. Train me to be a Sky Walker. I can do this."

Jean rubbed a hand down his face, "(Y/N)...it's late. Maybe we should sleep on this-"

"NO." That one word leapt from her throat in a growl, causing Jean to step back, half shutting the door. Slamming her hand against the door she switched tactics, "Please Jean. There's this prick who's dumping toxic waste into the ocean. So many people were sick and at my hospital because of him." Swallowing thickly, her eyes grew unfocused, "They died...under my watch."

Jean's shoulders slumped at that admission. With Billy’s death overshadowing everything, he forgot that in her line of work she saw more sickness and death than even he had seen.

But this was the first time since the funeral that he had seen her up and moving. It was the first time that her eyes held any sort of emotion. He couldn’t bear to be the one that extinguished it. He couldn’t do that to her. Or to Mark.

Heaving a sigh he flung his hands up, "Fine. We start in the morning,” Her eyes widened and a small smile crept across her face as she stepped forward into his apartment until he held a hand out to stop her, “Now let me go back to sleep so I don't pass out on you mid training session and we both die."

~Three Months After the Funeral~

Are you ready for it?

The bass thumped through her headphones, as her fists made contact with the punching bag in front of her in time to the beat. Staying light on her toes, she bounded back and forth, jabbing, punching, upper cutting, swaying in and out as she danced around the bag.

She had been here for hours. The 24-hour gym had cleared out earlier, now it was just her and other people who couldn't sleep or worked weird hours.

As the last line of the song faded she put her hands on her hips, pacing over to her backpack.

Rooting through it, she located her water bottle, taking long pulls from it as her heart beat slowed down.

Boxing had been one of the only things that was able to take her mind off of, well, everything.

That and running. Everyone and their mother had told her to try yoga after they’d heard what happened, telling her it would help to "quiet her mind" but the more time she spent sitting still, the more she could feel Billy's hand slipping from hers as he walked out of her apartment for the last time.

She gave it up when a panic attack had taken over her system in downward dog.

Activities that let her be alone, that let her get her aggression out, were the most beneficial.

Plus, it helped with the Sky Walker training she’d been receiving from Mark and Jean.

After she’d shown up at Jean’s door that night, she arrived on his doorstep bright and early the next morning, knowing that she’d have to knock extra loud to make sure Jean actually woke up. Which is why it shocked her that before she could even knock on the door, Jean had swung it open to reveal him and Mark standing in front of her, looking for all the world like two parents ready to scold their child for staying out past curfew.

Smirking she shrugged, “Sorry I missed curfew.”

Mark’s mouth twitched and she knew that, with him at least, she was off the hook.

They had sat her down, gone over basic safety information, how they practiced moves on the ground first so they could get comfortable executing them and then took them up into the air.

Mark’s heart broke at how alert and interested she was. It was the first time in months he saw her engage with others and it killed him that this was what it was taking to bring her back from the brink.

Ever since then, she had been training with them to prepare for this mission, to learn the necessary skills she’d need to break in, to keep herself alive. She had convinced Mark and Jean that the plan she had for Chase was a one-woman job. She told them that if she couldn’t pick up on everything in six months then she would let one of them help her on this mission.

But she knew she wouldn’t need their help. When Mark and Jean taught her how to fight, how to dodge opponents, how to protect herself in a fight, her Nurse Brain kicked into high gear.

When they’d break down certain tricks she was able to picture the exact muscles, ligaments and bones that would need to be strengthened, how they would need to move to be able to complete the move perfectly.

She was even able to break down fight sequences just from observing her opponents moves. Looking at how certain muscles tensed, what foot they’d lead with, how their fist was turned, it all helped her get the upper hand in any fight.

Knowing pressure points and which joints were the weakest were an added benefit during these training sessions.

(After she almost dislocated Jean’s knee, he had limped away, bellowing about how she needed to seriously remember who the enemy was and it “bloody well isn’t me! I like the ocean! I’ve never even been to Sea World, that’s how much I like the ocean!”

All of it added up to her progressing in her training more rapidly than Mark or Jean felt comfortable with.

They couldn’t help being impressed though. She was mastering moves that had taken them years to nail down. But she took to it with a single-minded determinism that worried them, especially Jean.

Training was all (Y/N) cared or wanted to talk about. Mark told him that she’d started working out at all hours. Lifting, running and boxing being the newest activity she had added to her repertoire and while he felt it was a smart move, he couldn’t help but be worried. Every time she was training, he’d seen a fatalistic look in her eyes. It was a look he was all too familiar with, it was a common look in Sky Walkers. But those individuals were always the highest risk cases.

Those were the Sky Walkers who didn't value their own safety. They kept pushing and pushing until mortality pushed back and said, You want to keep going? Fine. You pushed too far and now I'm going to punish you.

The worst part was, in his experience, there was no use trying to tell those individuals to slow down. They inevitably sped up to spite the person who told them to slow down. Jean didn't want Mark to lose his sister too.

After a particularly intense training session, he hesitantly brought it up to Mark who only snorted,

"I already lost her."

"What do you mean?"

Mark shot him an incredulous stare, "You're kidding right? You've seen how much she's changed since Billy left. That's not my sister. I still hope like hell (Y/N)'s underneath this new exterior but...I don't know who this new woman is. And frankly, I don’t want to know who she is.”

She hadn’t told Mark but she’d heard him say that. She knew she wasn’t the same woman but this was the one thing in her life that had made her feel alive since the funeral. She didn’t want to give it up.

They’re just going to have to get used to it. She thought as she unwrapped the bright pink wraps from her hands. Rooting through her backpack, she made sure she had everything. Slinging her bag over her shoulders, she queued up her running playlist.

Striding toward the front door she gave the obligatory head nod to all the members still in the facility.

Shoving the door open, the wind that had buffeted the building all night slapped her in the face. Eyes tearing up, she adjusted the straps of her backpack, hit play and started to jog back to her apartment.

Demons!

Come on!

You've got a vision,

You're on a mission!

~~~

He almost missed her.

The all black clothing she had taken to wearing, combined with how the last vestiges of red in the sky were quickly being overrun by the inky black of the night sky made him worried she’d left without him realizing.

Seeing the door open, light spilling out and illuminating her form, he breathed a sigh of relief. Watching her jog off into the night, he leapt up from his crouched position on the building next door to the gym.

Giving (Y/N) a head start, he waited a few beats before taking off after her. Keeping her in his sight but sticking close to the shadows. Every time he saw a form approaching her, he put on a fresh burst of speed; anxiety spiking through his blood at the prospect of her getting in harm's way helping him to power through. After they passed without incident, he breathed a sigh of relief.

He had done this for a few nights now.

One had told him they wouldn't head out to HQ for a while, something about needing to wrap things up but he didn't question it. It gave him time to check on her.

Recently, he was getting nervous that she had started to...he hated sounding like a hippie but...she had started to sense his presence.

Like their souls burned too brightly together so the universe made it so they would never be lost in the dark as long as they were near each other’s light.

A few weeks ago, he had been following her to her apartment after she left Mark and Jean's. He had been wearing all black, a few feet away, on the roof of a building far above her.

She had stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, tilted her head up and stared right where Billy had been standing. He’d dropped like a rock to the concrete floor of the roof, trying to stifle his breathing, which after almost passing out, realized would be insane if she could hear that.

There had been several other times where there was no possible way (Y/N) should have been able to tell where he was and yet...

She'd look up, right in the direction of where he was and every time, he sent out a plea, See me. Please. Know that I'm here. That I love you. That I never wanted to leave you. Just, please.

Please don't think I broke my promise.

~Seven Months After the Funeral~

She thought the knuckles on her hand were going to pop out of her skin.

Clenching the steering wheel, she chastised herself for making this process so exceedingly difficult.

Just let go of the wheel. She scolded herself, Release your finger. Just the pinky finger. It won't be too hard. C'mon, don't be a-

She cut that thought off quickly.

Too many memories weighed down four little words and if she wasn't careful, they would drag her into the inky blackness of depression. She couldn't risk it. Not with a mission coming up.

The breath leaving her mouth shuddered out of her like the wind through an old house. Her chest felt too tight, like each breath made her lungs smaller, not bigger.

This isn't how he'd want to see you.

Like a flash of lightning, the thought illuminated everything and for a second, the world was crystal clear. Her fingers slipped from the wheel only to land dully in her lap, where they curled in on themselves so they looked like dead bugs.

Snorting, she figured it would be appropriate they looked like dead bugs considering she was in a cemetery.

Sun shining down, the sky a cloudless blue, made it impossible to not think of his eyes and how they had looked at her in the full light of day. That one day they’d had together.

Those perfect 24 hours.

Funny how time constricts and bends so some events pass in the blink of an eye while others pass by like a train at a train crossing when you're running late to work.

Shaking her head, she bowed her head and closed her eyes. The darkness was a welcome reprieve. But not always.

Sleep had become the bogey man at the end of her bed. Sleeping wasn't a relaxing activity, it was prey she had to stalk and take down before it could get her. It wasn't that there were so many nightmares plaguing her, it was just one nightmare.

It was horrible enough that most nights, she didn't even fully fall asleep, it was more like a deep meditative state. The thought that that one nightmare could overwhelm her was enough to make her not want to sleep ever again. The first time the nightmare came to her was a week after his funeral:

Fog would be swirling around her, swallowing up everything in her path. Taking hesitant steps forward, Billy's form would become clearer as she moved forward. Her heart beat speeding up as she saw Billy peering over the edge of the building.

Suddenly, realization would crash into her like a train. This wasn't just any building. This was the building that Billy had last been seen running across. Knowing that there was nothing on the other side, she would rush forward to warn him, to pull him back, to crush his body to hers and never let him go.

She needed to warn him, to save him. But no matter how fast she pumped her legs, Billy stayed the same distance away. His legs would tense and that's when she'd start screaming. Her vocal cords stretched to their breaking point as she rushed towards him. But before she could reach him, he'd leap into the air, disappear into the fog and...

That's when she'd wake up. Face wet with tears, the last of her screams dying in her throat.

She always screamed the same thing.

Billy! Stay!

The first few times she hadn't realized she was actually screaming those words aloud until a neighbor of hers knocked on her door, asking her if she was okay.

She never knew how to answer that question.

It was such an odd one. Mark and Jean asked her that all the time. Whenever they did, she'd grit her teeth and spit out that she was fine because how else was she supposed to answer that question?

"Actually Mark, Jean, I'm so glad you asked because I'm not okay and I probably never will be again because the only man I ever loved and trusted, up and broke said trust! Oh, and did I also mention he's dead?"

That's how she wanted to answer their asinine question but by the time she felt like she could get those words out, most people had moved on from Billy. Because people always do.

But not her.

Though, it hadn't taken long for her to want to sleep with someone else. She figured it would help her heal.

At the very least provide a necessary distraction.

It was always the same.

Normally, they'd lock eyes across the bar. Raising her glass of scotch she got every time she went to the same bar with the sticky floors, burnt out bulbs and rickety chairs, she'd lift it towards him in a kind of salute. When he'd smirk back and do the same, she'd quirk an eyebrow only to throw back the drink in one go. The thud of glass on wood signaling to the bartender to pour her another.

Nine times out of ten, their eyes would immediately become hooded with lust (every now and again, one would take a drink at the same time and choke on his own drink at the action.) A smirk would play across his lips as he'd bring his own glass to his lips and drain it in one go.

Men. God forbid a woman out do them in anything. She always thought ruefully as she'd watch her next victim unfold themselves from the bar stool they were seated on to slip into the empty seat next to her.

There were rules. She refused to sleep with blondes. She had one time. She had moaned out Billy's name and immediately started crying. When the man with her had tried to comfort her she had pushed him away, screaming at him to get out of her apartment.

The other rule was, no sleepovers. Having men sleep over usually meant they overstayed their welcome and she didn't want them getting comfortable anymore than she wanted to spend the night in a bed that wasn't hers.

Once the rules had been established, it was the same shit with a slightly different dude. They'd engage in flirty banter, a well-timed arm touch, a glance up at him through her lashes, one more drink and then they'd be in the back of a Lyft, hands everywhere, and then a few hours later she'd be back in a Lyft (one time, the same Lyft driver who had dropped them off had picked her up, alone, offering a hive five as she got out of the car) to go back to her apartment.

Alone.

Most nights she wondered why she did it. Why she was constantly hunting for that same jolt of electricity that she’d had with Billy. Every time her encounters ended, she always wondered what the point of doing this was. Why did she bother when every man she interacted with came up hilariously short?

She had tried to make it work, to forget him, but the entire time some man would be kissing her, caressing her, touching her, there was always a part of her that was thinking of another man's tattooed, calloused hands on her body.

A rap on the window caused her to jump, clenching her hands back into fists as Mark waved, sheepishly, at her from the other side of the glass. The flowers grasped in his fist swayed in the breeze.

Stepping out of her car, Mark moved to hug her. Holding out her hand to stop him she growled, "I'm already on edge. Don't make it worse." Striding around him and towards the plot of land where the box that Billy was supposed to be in laid dormant under the soil.

A place holder.

Nothing more.

Mark's shoulders sank as he watched her go. Physical contact had been difficult for her since Billy had gone. It was small, but he noticed. Every time he pulled her into a hug when she showed up at training, she'd stiffen, then it turned into her barely reciprocating until she refused them altogether. It made his heart ache, she used to hug everyone no matter if they had known each forever or four minutes.

But then again, she'd just become more withdrawn in general. It broke his heart to see it. Watching her light fade and dim, it was like a star becoming a black hole.

Crunching through the sun dried grass toward the plot, she kept her head down, barreling towards her destination. Figuring that if she walked faster, she could outpace her thoughts before they could catch up with her and the realization of where she was and where she was headed could crush her.

This was the first time they were visiting Billy's grave since she’d started training to become a Sky Walker. Mark and Jean had tried to get her to go sooner but it hadn't been until Mary asked (Y/N) if she would meet her there did she finally acquiesce.

The only memory she had of Mary was after the funeral. Watching Mary and her mother walk arm in arm back to their car, their shared grief following them like a cloud.

At that moment, (Y/N) had envied them. They had each other. Their shared love for Billy would be a balm, it would help them try to heal. She only had herself and her memories. Neither of which were particularly warm or comforting at the moment.

"Whoa, easy." Two hands wrapped around her biceps, bringing her to an abrupt stop.

Looking up, she was met with the same sky blue eyes that Billy had, framed by lashes that were almost as long as Billy's. Blond hair pulled back into a ponytail, Mary smiled ruefully at her, "Just trying to get this over with huh?"

Forcing herself to swallow over the lump that had suddenly formed in her throat, she nodded wordlessly. Mary's eyes took in her form, noting how her clothes seemed to hang on her, the dull, flinty look her eyes had. Mutely, she linked her arm through (Y/N)'s, pulling her into her side.

Taking a deep breath, they both turned to look at the headstone in front of them. Seeing his name carved into stone caused her heart to speed up. Scolding herself for being so silly for getting twitter-patted over his name. What was she, fourteen?

But she couldn't help it.

"It's weird."

Humming in acknowledgment, (Y/N) didn't know if Mary meant them being here together, the fact that her brother was dead or just the world in general.

"It's weird that that little line," Mary gestured toward the line in between the numbers that marked when he had been born and when he died, "is supposed to represent his whole life. Everything he said and did. Everyone he loved."

The emotional toll of hearing those words uttered by his sister caused all of the air in (Y/N)'s lungs to leave, her heart to splinter into even tinier parts. Wobbling, she grasped Mary's arm tightly as Mary wound another arm around (Y/N)'s waist to keep her upright.

“(Y/N!) Easy, you okay?"

The weight of Mark's hand on her shoulder helped ground her in reality. Her twisted reality where it wasn't Billy's hand on her shoulder. And it never would be again.

Straightening up, she tugged on the end of her coat, shaking her head, "Yeah. Yes. I'm fine. Just, it's a lot."

Mark nodded, eyes taking in his sisters appearance, trying not to seem too shocked that this was the most she had revealed her feelings to him, to anyone, in the past few weeks.

Locking eyes with Mary's blue ones over top of (Y/N)'s head, he mouthed a quick thank you in which she inclined her head to show she understood.

Mark had been in contact with Mary constantly. First it was getting names of counselors and support groups to help his sister heal, then it turned into them talking and developing a...something. They had developed a relationship that neither were sure what to call but seeing her here caused his heart to flutter.

Feeling (Y/N)’s shoulders rise and fall, he lifted his arm so she could step out from underneath them, "I'll see you guys later."

Opening his mouth, Mark tried to protest but when he felt Mary's hand land on his bicep, he closed it. (Y/N)'s all black form grew to be a small speck on the blue horizon.

He was surprised the whole ground didn't open up to swallow her at that moment. She looked like a specter of death. But he supposed what she really was was worse. She was a casualty of death, and there was no hope for that.

~Nine Months After the Funeral~

A few months of intense training later, after she had executed one of the most difficult tricks Jean and Mark had designed, Jean finally told her she was ready to go after Chase.

"Fucking finally." she groaned, wiping the sweat from her face with the bottom of her shirt, “I’m going to rinse off and change, then meet me at my apartment!” she yelled over her shoulder as she raced to the locker room.

Jean nodded and several minutes later, hair still damp, raised a fist to knock on her front door. Before he could knock, the door swung open to reveal her laptop open and her kitchen table covered with charts, maps and blueprints of Chase’s compound.

“What took you so long?”

Jean whistled as he took it all in, "When did you do this?"

"When I first read that news article about Chase. So..here's what I'm thinking." Laying out her plan, Jean couldn't help feeling impressed. It was foolproof. He was also relieved that all she wanted was to bring Chase to justice, share his personal files with the government and the entire Internet so she could expose him then get the hell out of there.

As she laid out the plan she was careful not to mention how much Chase needed to pay for all the lives he took with his negligence and selfishness. She kept emotion out of her tone, just the facts, as she walked Jean through her plan to bring Chase to justice.

But she knew justice wouldn’t be enough.

Justice was never enough for people like that. Because the rules of justice were skewed so men like that always got off scot free. In her heart of hearts, she knew it didn’t matter if she leaked every atrocious thing he’d ever done. He'd be back out in the public eye in a few years and no one would bat an eyelash because he had money, power and privilege. The three most essential ingredients to make any good villain.

She wouldn't be able to live with herself if this man was able to walk away. If she didn't do right by Isabella, she didn't know how she'd be able to continue living with herself.

"From there, I'll get the files, download them to the flash drive, hack into the mainframe, deposit them there and then get the hell out. Minimal damage, minimal casualties, maximum impact."

"That's how most people describe having sex with me."

"I don't have time to unpack how distressing all of that is right now but, what do you think? Is it doable? And will you and Mark help me?"

Jean's eyes scanned the blueprints before him. He saw how her fingers were beating an erratic beat on her thighs, how her feet constantly shifted as if she wanted to take off in a million directions at once. This was the most animated he'd seen her in weeks. He knew this may be their only chance to really get her settled, let her burn off some steam with a mission and then they could get her back to her old self.

Heaving a giant sigh, he hung his head down, "Fucking fine. We'll do it. BUT," his head snapped up and almost felt bad when he saw the smile that had slipped across her face fade. Almost. "You listen to us. Mark and I have final say in all of this. Got it? We've done this before and while you'll be the one in the field, we have markedly more experience so let us do what we do best. Got it?"

He stuck out his hand for her to shake. Her (Y/E/C) eyes flitted over his features, seeing if he'd break or if he was just pulling her leg. When she saw nothing but sincerity looking back at her, she slipped her hand into his. "Deal."

Jean almost started crying when a sparkle caught his eye, her thumb had a final bit of pink sparkly nail polish on it, making him wonder if he had made a terrible mistake.

~A Week Later~

"I'm in."

Part of her always cringed whenever she said those two words. She couldn't help but think of a shaggy haired, pre-pubescent 12-year old, huddled over their laptop, fingers clacking frantically, the glow of their computer screen the only thing illuminating the Mountain Dew bottles surrounding them.

But, it just came with the job she supposed.

Creeping along the hall, she checked over her shoulder. Feeling the familiar flutter of adrenaline spike in her stomach, she reached for the package that was hidden in her pocket. As her fingers brushed over its cylindrical shape she felt her shoulders relax. Then, she moved her hand down further to make sure the knife she’d strapped to her thigh was still firmly in place, that really helped her to relax.

She quickly sent up a thank you to Cassandra, wherever she was, for leaving her knife sharpening kit at Mark’s place. The linoleum underneath her feet reflected the dim red light that ran along the length of the hallway.

"In 20 feet you're going to reach the checkpoint. Remember, there's a big ass-"

"Grid of invisible wires, yeah yeah. I know, Jean. We went over this a million times."

"Well, with how little you pay attention during those meetings I'm surprised you can even remember the address."

"How about you shut the fuck up and let me do my damn job?" she snarled into her comms.

Blocks away, Jean ripped his headset off to shake his head at Mark who just sighed, eyes never leaving the computer screen where his sisters grainy form was seen lurking towards the wire netting, "I know, dude. I know."

"Fucking Billy. If only he hadn't-"

"Jean. Please. We all still wish he was here. Don't make it harder."

Huffing out a breath, Jean turned back to the keyboard, shoving his headphones back into place as he deactivated the alarms to the rooms (Y/N) needed to get in to.

Throwing a strand of her hair into the hallway, she nodded when it settled to the floor without getting zapped.

"You really don't trust me, do you (Y/N)?

"I trust you, I just don't trust the security protocols in this place. A fortress like this has to have backups of the backups."

"Bitch! That's why we're here!"

Snorting at how high Jean's tone had gotten, she continued prowling toward the door that led into Chase’s inner sanctum. He didn't let anyone but a select few into the room that was waiting for her at the end of the hallway. It was where he kept all of his documents, where he entertained foreign emissaries and got them to sign off on him dumping his toxic waste in the water because who cared about people's health when he could make a few more dollars?

Shaking her head to straighten her brain out, she took a deep breath as she tread closer to the intimidating mahogany door that loomed before her.

Glancing down, she saw the pad to the left of the door, they needed a retinal scan to get in. She waited as from miles away, Mark's hands were flying over the keyboard as he worked his magic. Using a close up image of Chase's eye they had captured a few weeks ago, he embedded it into the code for the lock. When it lit up green she smirked, "Thanks, big brother."

"Don't thank me yet. Expose that fucking loser and come home safely. Then we can talk."

Nudging the door open, she made a beeline for the imposing white desk in front of the picture window looking out over, ironically, the ocean. Rolling her eyes, she briskly walked over to his computer. Fingers gliding over the keys, fishing around in the pocket of her black athletic leggings, she cursed, "Why the FUCK do women's pockets always have to be so small."

"It's just another way for the patriarchy to keep you down. Hard on, sister."

Pausing in her actions, she raised her eyes up, fixing on a distant point as she opened and closed her mouth, ready to correct Jean when Mark's voice rang through her comms, "He's got the right spirit. Just let him have this."

Shrugging, she bent down to the task at hand, inserting the USB, opening up files and dumping them onto the Internet and sending them to the entire UN Embassy, every government official, Greenpeace and the whole world to condemn this monster.

As she finished uploading the last of Chase’s files to the EPA’s mainframe, she heard footsteps approaching.

And right on time.

"Uhh, (Y/N)? Don't mean to alarm you but Chase himself and four armed guards are barreling down on you. Get out the window NOW and meet at the rendezvous point."

Hearing how Mark's voice shook on the last word caused her to pause for a fraction of a second, wondering if she was making the right choice. Like a flash, she shook herself from her stupor and straightened up. Pulling the USB out of the computer she dropped it into her pocket, reaching a finger up to disconnect her comms, "I know. I planned for it. Sorry boys. I’ll see you on the other side" She clicked her comms off just as she heard Jean and Mark start to protest.

Closing her eyes, she rolled her shoulders. Reaching back into her pocket she took out the extra package she’d been carrying and set it on the desk.

Carefully, she extracted the vile and needle that was inside.

When the door burst open, all Chase saw was a woman, silhouetted by moonlight, holding a needle up to the light, tapping it a few times.

"Nice of you to join me, Chase. Won't you sit down?" she murmured.

"Who the fuck are you, you crazy bitch? I have the entire government on my ass, PETA has threatened with more than one lawsuit and the FBI, EPA and other three letter entities aren't far behind to pick me up and haul me off for the rest of my life. So," he stepped to the edge of the desk, slamming his palms down, "I'll ask one more time. Who.The. FUCK. Are. You?"

Watching the last air bubble pop, she smiled. She had never felt so calm in her life and when her eyes dragged from the needle to meet Chase’s, he was surprised to see a serene looking woman staring back at him.

"You killed people. So now I'm going to kill you."

And she lunged forward.

Her hand came down holding the needle, aiming for the largest artery in his neck. Eyes widening, he stumbled back, arms pinwheeling. Knocking the needle from her hand, she watched it twist through the air, the moon reflecting off the glass and then she lost it as it hit the plush carpet without a sound.

She didn't have too much time to think about it because all of a sudden the four men that had come in with Chase were on her.

Leaping onto the desk, she wrapped her thighs around the neck of the man closest to her. Thanking Mark for bullying her into never skipping leg day, she squeezed her legs around his neck as he spun wildly, trying to dislodge her. Hands scrambling at her thighs, he dropped to his knees where she unwound her legs from his shoulders, dropping to the ground and turning in one swift motion, she kneed him in the face, turning to the next man as the one on the floor tried in vain to stop the fountain of blood flowing from his nose.

Another one was right on her as she aimed a punch right to his midsection, hearing an “OOF” leave his mouth, she kicked his legs out from underneath him. As he landed, she raced in between his legs, located his kneecap and with a twist of her wrist, dislocated it with a sharp POP.

With a howl, he rolled around on the ground as the one with the bloody nose limped over to help. Breathing heavily she turned, only to be faced with the other two bearing down on her.

Jesus, she thought, Star Wars always led me to believe the bad guys would come at me one at a time. Not all at once.

It was the last thought she remembered having before she could only focus on trying to make it out alive.

One of the men grabbed her arm, she grabbed his wrist, finding a pressure point and bore down until his fingers loosened around her wrist. Not letting up, she snapped his wrist and kicked him in the groin.

As he slumped to the ground, the other one grabbed her ankle, yanking her leg out from underneath her causing her to face plant into the carpet. Her hands scrabbled for anything to hold onto as he dragged her body towards him. Twisting, she reached for her knife. As he reached a hand down toward her throat, she brought it up in one quick motion.

She rolled away as the man screamed in agony as he searched for his missing finger. Scrambling to her feet, she felt something collide with the back of her head. Her vision began to swim as the carpet came up to meet her face once again. She’d forgotten about the first guard who had been attending to the second man she’d taken down. Now, he stood over her, teeth bared, blood still flowing from his nose, gun cocked and aimed right in between her eyes.

"Wait!"

Chase's form became clearer as he knelt down beside her, "You don't deserve to die by a bullet do you?" He cooed as he stroked a finger down her cheek. Turning her head, she tried to snap at his finger but the quick movement caused her to retch.

Laughing softly, she heard the tap of fingernails hitting a glass vile, "You deserve to die by your own little concoction. It’s much more poetic, don't you think?"

He leaned over her, bringing his mouth to her ear as he caressed her arm, rubbing two fingers over the crook of her elbow, "Like Romeo and Juliet but, darling Juliet" she hissed as he stabbed the needle into her arm, "This time, Romeo will live. And he'll win." He pressed the release and she felt a tear leak from her eye when suddenly, the world exploded.

Glass fell over her form like stars falling from the sky as the bright lights of a stealth helicopter illuminated the room. The man with the bloody nose whipped his gun toward the window, firing rapidly but quickly crumpled as someone strode right up to him, and shot him point blank.

Chase scrambled up, hands out in front of him, "What the fuck is this? Are you CIA? FBI? Listen, I have more money than God, I can set you up for the rest of your life. You'll never have to worry-"

A gunshot was the only answer Chase got.

"More than one person can have more money than God, ass-wipe." The figure kicked Chase's body as he walked past him, his form swimming before (Y/N) as the poison leaked into her blood stream, "And besides," he knelt down by her form, fingers searching for a pulse, "I use reusable straws because baby turtles are cute as fuck."

Her head lolled to the side as she used the last bits of her strength to see who her savior was. A man with a rugged face stared back as he moved to crouch behind her, cradling her head in his hands as he yelled to someone behind him to hurry the fuck up.

A second face looked down at her as she felt her eyelids begin to close, the hushed sounds of the man holding her head offering soothing platitudes as she made peace with the fact that she was about to die.

As the second person rifled through the medical bag they had been carrying, hurriedly pulling out instruments, the last thing she heard was the man whispering into her ear, "Come on darling. Hold on for me. Hold on for him."

~Three Days Later~

Bright.

That was her first thought as her eyelids fluttered open and immediately closed upon being assaulted by blinding white light.

For a wild second she thought she had gone to heaven.

"I know what you're thinking. Is this heaven? No. It's not. Because if this were heaven I'd be smoking a fat blunt, drinking the finest gin while lying on a nude beach where no living person could bother me. People like you."

The squeal of chair legs being dragged over the floor caused her to flinch. The voice that spoke was dry, making her wonder if this man ever took anything seriously. And also if he could read minds.

"Pretty good stunts you pulled out there. You learn that shit from watching Black Widow too many times?"

Silence. She tried to keep her breath steady so maybe he would think she was still asleep.

"Sweetheart, I just saw your eyelids crack open a second ago. There's no way in hell you dropped back off to sleep that quickly."

"Shouldn't I be dead?" It felt like her vocal cords were two pieces of sandpaper rubbing together. The sound that was expunged from her throat was a dry husk.

"Should be but, like Chase, I have more money than God and a crack team of experts. One of whom happens to know exactly what was in that vial and the antidote for it. You've been stable and asleep for three days now."

He saw her eyebrows twitch, which he figured was the most reaction he would get out of her.

Keeping her eyes closed made it easier to digest the information he was throwing at her and to keep her poker face in tact. The voice sounded familiar to her, but she couldn't place where or when, she’d heard it before.

"Is he-?"

"Dead? Yeah. A half dose of poison most people can come back from, but a bullet right through the skull? Much like Humpty Dumpty, we can't exactly put that back together again."

She felt her lips twitch and scolded herself for letting any emotion show through.

"He deserved it."

"I know. And you deserve to use your skills in a better way." Her body stilled, her breath stopped for a beat and when it resumed, the monologue continued, "I have...fuck I hate sounding like Samuel L. Jackson but I have a team. And we could use someone like you."

Another scraping sound, the soft rustle of fabric moving as the voice sounded like it was coming over her, "Think about it. And I'll contact you. Don't worry. I always keep my promises."

Her hands clenched, the veins popping out as those five words washed over her like a cold shower.

The clenched hands were all the reaction he needed.

Hearing his footsteps get softer she reached a hand down and felt a piece of cardstock brush against her finger tips. When the door closed, she cracked open an eyelid to look down at it, but it was blank.

~~~

Closing the door, One leaned up against the hallway, letting his head knock against the wall of the hospital.

Four had warned him.

But this made things incredibly interesting.

Or difficult. It all depended on how he wanted to view the situation.

And what she wanted.

After the funeral, One’d kept a close eye on Four. He knew what kind of pull love could have over a man. And Four was young. The youngest on the team in age, sure, but he let his feelings get the better of him a lot of the time which made him seem even younger.

Which could be dangerous. And they were already in way too much danger as it was on a daily basis so he needed to nip it in the bud.

Closing his eyes, he thought about the first time he caught Four.

~Two Months Ago~

It had been quiet.

The wind whistled through the various holes that littered the planes, causing sand to get whipped up along with it, tornadoes forming and quickly collapsing.

One had been awake. He rarely slept but he had been in the Case Room, going over some files. Trying to decide what their next mission needed to be when he heard a noise.

Keeping his body still, he strained his ears to see if he would hear it again. When he heard the floor creak, he crept to the door, peering out to see who or what it could possibly be.

Seeing the familiar shape of Four's hoodie, he rolled his eyes. When he saw him creep into the control room, he became suspicious. He knew how tempting the draw was to check on the ones you cared about. But with how emotionally fragile Four had been since he'd joined, he didn't think this was the best idea, but he needed to confirm that’s what he was doing before he blew up on the kid.

Pushing the door open, he walked down the hallway, being careful to tread lightly so as not to alert Four to his presence till he absolutely needed to.

Using his years of training, he placed his body precisely so he could look into the room but Four wouldn't be able to see him should he look around. Which, he didn't think would be an issue. Four was engrossed by the screen in front of him, One didn't think a nuclear explosion would cause him to look up.

Taking his chances, he slunk into the room. Four had footage of an apartment pulled up on the screens. Three people, two guys, one girl, standing around a table. Four had headphones on so One couldn't hear the audio but it looked like the individuals on screen were in the middle of an intense argument.

Nibbling his thumbnail, Four's eyes were laser focused on the woman as she gesticulated wildly. Blueprints, computer screens and maps littered every available surface of the apartment and One recognized the planning stages of a mission. He got a little closer and recognized the girl on screen as the same one who had been at Four's funeral.

Four had told him his background on the trip over to HQ. One figured the other two were the ones that were left over from his original Sky Walker crew.

(He’d roasted Four about that dumbass name for weeks afterward.)

Shaking his head, One heaved a sigh and reached forward to snatch the headphones off Four's head.

"HEY! Who the bloody hell-" Four's frame twisted up and out of the chair only to come to an immediate stop when he saw who had his headphones dangling from their fingertips.

"Didn't know The Bachelorette had a new season running! Are they in the hometown segment?"

Four blinked at him, "It's really distressing you know that much about The Bachelorette."

"What's really distressing is the fact that you're checking up on her. What the fuck do you think you're doing Four?"

"Look, I'm sorry but-"

"No. There are no buts here. Even if her butt is really nice, you gotta put it behind you dude. Especially her."

"I know that, One but-"

One had started pacing back and forth as he warmed to the topic before him, "Do you know how much money is on the line here? How much is at stake? Our lives, our very existence, this could all blow up at any point and we could die. For real. Or, even worse, the government comes in, blows up our spot and we get sentenced to death. Or worse, jail. And you yourself have such fond feelings of, what did you call them? The pigs?" One shot Four a disgruntled look at that statement, noting how Four's hands were clenching and unclenching in an attempt to stay cool.

"Look, One, I just-"

Rounding on him, pointing a finger in his face One roared, "No, Four, you just. You clearly don't want to be part of this team. Clearly I made a mistake in asking you to be part of this if you can't get over the little school girl crush you have on this girl you slept with once and she sucked your dick so well that you mistook it for love-"

His air supply was cut off as Four slammed One up against the wall. The tattoos decorating his hand popped against his skin as he gripped One’s windpipe in a steel trap. For the first time since bringing Four onto the team, One was truly afraid of him and understood why he was so good at what he did.

The look in Four's eyes cowed One immediately as Four growled out the next few sentences, "You listen up right here, right now you fucking prick," Slamming his head back into the wall One saw stars, "Her name is (Y/N) and she is worth more than any person on this damn planet. She's the best person I’ve ever been with and I’m damn lucky she even deigned to give me the time of day. She’s the reason I even joined this bloody insane operation, so show some fucking respect or I'll have no problem slitting your throat and moving on with my life."

One's vision was getting black around the edges as he frantically nodded his head at Four’s words. Four let him go where he collapsed to the floor on hands and knees, coughing as Four paced around the room, scrubbing at the shaved sides of his head with his fists.

After a few seconds of coughing, One rubbed at his throat as he pushed himself up, "You're fucking crazy, dude. Really glad I recruited you. That's the kind of attitude we need out in the field."

Four shook his head as he let out a humorless laugh as One brushed his hands off, "You don't understand One. You never will."

"Cut the emo bullshit. We're not in Twilight. We're adults, just tell me what-" He stopped as Four swiftly turned to face him, eyes pleading,

"She became a Sky Walker, One. She's doing what I used to do because she doesn't think her life has any meaning and that's bullshit. She's my everything, okay? She's the reason I get up in the morning. She's the reason I do this damn job. She's the reason I keep myself alive out there. She's my guiding light. She's the sunshine on a cloudy day and-and” he waved his hands around uselessly as he tried desperately to pull another cliche from thin air, “I don’t know, man. She’s every other cliche you know about how someone makes your world better and she's putting herself at risk because of me"

One stood stock still as Four took another deep breath in, the fire in his eyes going from an inferno to embers as he stared at the screen where it showed her bending over the blueprints, tracing a line with her finger, "She's the love of my life and-" taking a shuddery breath in One felt his own eyes start to get misty, "Her light is the one thing that keeps me going in this miserable world. And if she's gone, I don't know if I'll make it." A tear made its way down One’s cheek as Four admitted this last part on a whisper.

One wasn't sure he was supposed to hear that last part but there was stillness as the room held its breath as it waited for what One would have to say,

"Alright. What do you need from me?"

Four's eyes snapped to One's. Stepping closer to One, his eyes roved over his face, trying to tell if he meant it, "You're not messing with me are you?"

"Not in this regard. Probably over something else I will but, what would make you feel better?"

Four took a second to contemplate it, "If she does seem like she's in trouble with this mission, we rescue her.” His eyes widened as he took another step closer to One, “AND, you offer her a spot on the team."

"Four-"

"One it's this or you lose me for good if she-she- '' Four's voice cracked as he turned his head away. Not even able to finish that horrible thought.

One’s heart squeezed in his chest. Christ, he thought, I’m more invested in their relationship than any bystander should be.

Groaning, One rubbed the bridge of his nose, "Fucking fine. I'm so going to regret this but...fuck it. If it seems like things are going sideways, we'll step in. I'll offer her a place on the team." Four started to smile but One stepped forward, pointing a finger in his face, "You have to meet with her before she makes her final decision though. I can offer it to her but she gets the final call if she wants to do this thing with us. With you. Got it?"

Nodding frantically, Four closed the gap between the two of them and wrapped One in a hug, "Oh, so we talk about our feelings for two minutes and all of a sudden we're into hugs? Weird."

Four let him go and with one last look at the screens, bade One goodnight.

Watching him leave, One turned to the screens, watching her analyze the blueprints, writing notes on them occasionally. Leaning on the back of the rolling chair One sighed, "Oh (Y/N), you have no idea what you've done."

~~~

Reaching into his pocket, One slide his phone out, shooting a quick text to Four,

She’s awake. And alive. Now we wait.

Heaving a sigh, he glanced down the hallway to see Seven approaching. Making eye contact with One, he raised his arms up as if to say, Well? What's happening?

"Fuck if I know. She's insane.” At Seven’s bug eyed look he quickly backpedaled, “In a good way. I don't think she's insane in, like, a psychological way. Just grieving."

"Oh good because grief is such a good emotion to grapple with in this line of work. Oh, and by the way did we mention that the man she’s grieving is actually alive and well?"

"You know, sarcasm is really ugly on you. Luckily, I'm not ugly so I can wear sarcasm well."

Snorting, Seven slumped against the wall next to One, letting his own head thud softly against the wall. Crossing his arms they both stared ahead at an unknowable future.

Seven broke the silence, "What really happens now, One. I mean, I know she's good, we all saw her in action. Taking out all four of those guards? Her entire plan was foolproof. It was impressive, no doubt but this is a tricky situation, one that none of us has ever had to deal with before."

"I know, I know." One let those four words out on a single huff of breath. Groaning he squeezed his eyes closed, "Why did I have to pick the one man on this earth who's desperately in love with a girl who so happened to be desperately in love with him and then they both went full Batman when they lost each other?"

"Because you see yourself in Four. That's why."

One's eyes slid over to Seven, "That doesn't leave this hallway."

Nodding once to show he understood, Seven pressed himself up. Twisting his body so he was facing One, his posture the only remnant to remind everyone he was once the perfect soldier, "But seriously One, what now. What can I do?"

Pressing his hands against the wall, One heaved himself up with a grunt, "Solve this for me?" The single eyebrow raise was the only answer he got, "Alright, alright. Come on. We need to go back and debrief everyone on this crazy shit. Don't know how I'm going to use small enough words to explain this to Three."

"You're on your own for that one dude." Seven laughed as they ambled down the hall, laughter dying on his lips his face fell into a serious mask, "How do you think Four's going to handle it?"

"If I knew I wouldn't be having this charming heart-to-heart with you."

"Seriously man, you're not even a little bit worried?"

"I'm freaking out dude!" Seven was brought up short as One rounded on him, gesticulating wildly, "This is no man's land! Even more so than this original idea! Four's so deep in his feelings with this girl and she's clearly heartbroken about him being gone and is on a one-woman train toward self-destruction that she's determined to meet him in death and” One’s eyes widened comically, “Ooooh my god I've Romeo and Juliet-ed them. Holy shit, I'm the Nurse. I'm too beautiful to be The Nurse!"

Gently prying One's hands from his collar, Seven looked him dead in the eye, "You have got to get a grip. You're spiraling and it's making your eyes go in two different directions."

Crushing his eyes closed, One took a deep breath in, "You're right. You're right. I need to get it together. We can handle this." Stepping back One hopped up and down on the balls of his feet, punching the air, "I need you to slap me."

The crack of Seven's palm making contact with his cheek sent One staggering back several steps.

"OW! What the fuck? No hesitation? No asking if I was sure?"

"I've been wanting to do that since the day you broke into my apartment." Seven shrugged as One glared at him, cupping his pink cheek.

"Fine, but it did help clear my head. So. Thanks. I guess."

Seven smirked.

"Alright, the plan. Let's talk to Four first. He needs to understand that for this to work, he needs to talk to her one on one. And it has to be her call. We can't influence her. If she wants in, fine but they need to work through their shit. And if she says no? Then we let her walk back to her life. And Four needs to respect that. He has to let her go."

"Easier said than done. I've seen his face when he looks at pictures of her on his phone."

"Yeah well, bet you didn't know he's also been following her? Keeping watch over her via surveillance tapes? And tracking her home?”

That brought Seven up short, "No? What the fuck?"

"I know. If it was anybody else's story I would have called the cops ages ago. As it is, it’s kind of romantic"

~A Week Later~

"We're all ghosts down here. Except, we don't float. One because gravity's intact and two because I'm not a cannibalistic clown."

"Could've fooled me."

"Didn't know I recruited fucking Tina Fey over here. Anyway, here's headquarters. Or home sweet home." One said in that same drole way he had of phrasing everything.

Walking through the punishing desert to get to the graveyard of felled planes had caused a shiver to pass through her. She did her best to suppress it but it was difficult. Passing through the giant hulking masses of steel caused her to feel like she was encroaching on the territory of ancient deities. The area felt loaded with their silence, the carnage keeping a silent watch as their footfalls disrupted the grains of sand that were being buffeted by the wind that swirled through the gaping openings in the bellies of the planes.

It had been a week since she’d been discharged from the hospital, well, not hospital, but the private sanctuary One had kept her at while she healed.

He had come into her room the day after he had left his card, shock on his face at seeing her sitting up, arms crossed.

"What the hell do you do and how do I fit into it?"

The single eyebrow she raised at One prompted him to explain, in detail, everything they did and what it would entail.

She’d been silent, eyes focused on his face, not making any sounds or moving until he finished his spiel. Then nodding, she asked one question,

"When do I start?"

He explained that her death would be easy to fake since she had technically almost died anyway. What he he hadn't told her was he hadn’t made it public just yet, he didn't want to make her brother and friend worry too much. Or give them a false alarm only for her to waltz back from the dead if she couldn’t handle being with Four.

So, here she was, following One up the stairs of the largest plane carcass. Pushing aside the plastic curtains that did their best to keep sunlight, sand and bugs out, he extended an arm in an exaggerated bow.

"I do hope it's to your liking Princess."

"Don't call me that you prick." She murmured as she breezed past him, pausing in the doorway to let her eyes adjust to the dim interior of the plane after being out in the searing sunlight.

The main room held more computer monitors than she had ever seen. She thought Mark's setup of four monitors had been impressive but the wall of screens staring back at her made her realize how rookie their operation had been.

A large silver table in the middle held a commanding presence and she knew, instinctively, that One felt most comfortable at the head of it, barking orders while still being able to hit the group in front of him with a sarcastic jab or two.

Taking a few hesitant steps forward she peered at the weapons lining the back wall. Snorting, she gestured to it lazily, turning her head to pierce One with a gaze, "You preparing for the apocalypse or do I require this much of a security detail?"

One's face broke into a fake smile as he leaned forward, placing his hands on his knees as he wheezed a few times, "Oh my god, sweetheart, oh god, please, stop, my stomach, it can't take the hilarity anymore, please, god." With that last word the smile dropped from his face and he stood up straight, crossing his arms over his chest,

"We're a group of vigilantes that have a specific subset of skills that makes us some of the most dangerous people on the planet. We go after the people that are even more dangerous than us. You think we just talk about our feelings and politely ask them to stop committing human rights atrocities?"

Brushing past her he shook his head, "Unbelievable." Muttering about new blood while he started down the hallway.

Eyes dancing over the various boards lighting up, she had the unmistakable sense that someone was watching her. One had told her there were five more that she would meet so she wondered if one of them was about to jump her as a weird sort of initiation.

But when she turned her head to the entrance, there was nothing.

Just the wind, blowing the plastic flaps back and forth. Scanning over the area she could have sworn the darkest corners contained something that was intrigued with her. Taking a hesitant step forward, One's voice jolted her out of her paranoia, "Hey, Amy Poehler, you coming to share more of your classic wit with the whole class or are you just going to dilly dick around all day? C'mon, I'm a busy man."

"Coming!" She yelled back, turning on her heel to jog down the hallway after him, turning her head one last time to make sure no ghosts were following.

Billy breathed a sigh of relief. He knew that today was the day he’d have to face her. He and One had discussed it extensively last night. One had been adamant, don't get attached to her being on the team before she explicitly says she wants to stick around, you know the rules, I know Seven changed things a little but this is getting into a whole new territory of softness and on and on while Billy had just sat there, taking it.

One finally ran out of steam (Billy wondered, not for the first time, if One had a coke addiction to get all the energy he needed) and Billy nodded his head, chewing over everything One had just said. He opened his mouth, preparing to show One how much he understood, how this was him only looking out for the team and adding a valuable asset. What came out of his mouth surprised him and One,

"I love her. I need her or else I won't make it through this life alive." He lifted his eyes to One and One took a sharp intake of breath. He had never seen Billy so open, so vulnerable. Even when he had been on the brink of dying, twice.

Searching his blue eyes, One sighed, dragging a hand over his face, squeezing his eyes shut as he scrubbed at his hair, groaning, "Fuck me, I must be getting soft in my old age. FINE. But remember. You have to talk to her. If you two can't work through your shit, she's gone. Poof. Vamoose. Got that? This is her choice. She gets to make the call if she stays, if she wants to work with you and if she leaves. Not you. Capisce?"

Billy nodded, trying his hardest to mask the eagerness he felt at the possibility of being with (Y/N) again. Being around her light, feeling that same pull into her warmth.

So, how could anyone blame him for wanting to see her as soon as she stepped foot into headquarters?

He had lurked in the shadows, pulling his hood over his hair, making sure his eyes were concealed. His eyes were her favorite part of him, she had told him during those amazing 24 hours they had shared together.

Billy couldn't believe it had been 365 days since they had seen each other. It felt like it had gone by so fast. But then again, he’d been all over the world, fighting bad guys and overthrowing dictators, (Y/N) had been living her life.

And started Sky Walker training which he was going to have to talk to her about that.

When she walked in, Billy had shrank even farther into the shadows, biting his tongue till he tasted blood, so he wouldn’t scream out her name.

It was still the same (Y/N) he’d fallen in love with, longer hair, more muscles but what really threw him was her eyes. They were the same color but the warmth that he had come to love was extinguished. Replaced with a flinty resolve that if anyone talked or looked at her, they would get their ass kicked.

It was the first time that he started to wonder if maybe this was the best idea. And let himself ponder the idea that she could potentially say no. That she wouldn't want to see him. That she would never be able to forgive him.

But he needed to know. He needed to try, he needed to show up for himself and for her. To show her that he still loved her, that he had always loved her.

Stepping out of the shadows, he pulled his hood down, making his way to the meeting room where they’d be waiting for him.

It wasn't till he brought his hand down from his hood that he realized his hands were shaking.

"Hola, Papi. Who's this lovely lady sitting here? My birthday isn't until next week." Three smirked as he pulled a chair out for himself, aiming a lazy wink at (Y/N). Her months of seducing men just like him in bars kicked in and she winked back, letting a slow smile crawl across her face.

An intimidating blonde woman kicked his chair as she sank into her own, "I meet your mother and this is the thanks I get?"

"You know I didn't mean it mi amor. I've only got eyes for you."

"And apparently any other attractive woman in a six mile radius." She extended her hand to (Y/N), "I'm Two. Nice to meet you."

Grasping Two’s hand in her own, she shook it, impressed with the strength of the woman's grip.

"Well, since you and Two are so happy together, this is my time to shine. I'm Seven." Seven grabbed her hand, pulling it up to his lips and pressed a kiss to it, holding her prone in his stare. He pulled back, winking at her and she felt a blush climb into her cheeks, "(Y/N). You have a much better chance than Three does at getting into these Nike leggings."

Seven's jaw dropped as One made a retching noise and Five stepped forward, extending her hand "I don't want to get into your leggings but I’m glad there's someone else here who's trained to keep these idiots alive."

(Y/N) shook her hand, smiling back at her, "Surprised they've lasted this long with just one doctor."

"You and me both." Rolling her eyes she turned to One, "This the one we picked up from Casewell’s joint?”

“The very same” was One’s reply as he flicked through the folder in his hands.

Five’s eyebrows rose up as a low whistle escaped her lips, “Shit. Well, I’m definitely glad you came around then. I’m assuming you’re the one who brought the vile of polonium?”

(Y/N) nodded, very aware of every eye in the room assessing her, sizing her up. It was like being in a room with Cassandra but multiplied by five.

“We saw you in action. Very impressive.” Two chimed in, crossing her arms over her chest.

Everyone else nodded as she tried her best to tamp out the flush of appreciation building in her cheeks. Snorting, she deflected, “Thanks. I guess you guys couldn’t have stepped in earlier to help, huh?”

“Sweetheart that’s not really our style. And in case you missed the chopper outside the building, we’re very particular about our style.” Flinging the folder down on the table, One braced his hands on the back of a chair, “So, now you’ve met everyone. The whole Brady Bunch of chucklefucks before you.”

(Y/N) had been mentally going over everyone's names in her head, when she furrowed her brow, "Hold on, either I’m dumber than I thought or your numbers are all out of whack. Where are Six and Four?"

Seven flicked his eyes to Two. Five shifted in her seat, opening her mouth when One cut her off, "Six is no longer with us and Four will be in shortly. I wanted you to meet the whole team first, get a feel for us, then meet Four and make your decision if you'd want to stay with us."

Cocking her head she flicked her eyes to One, "Why? Is Four like a 4Chan meninist who hates women? Why would he be the catalyst for whether I stay or go?"

Since meeting him, this was the first time she had seen One at a loss for words. It made her pulse speed up, clenching her hands into fists she tried to ignore the moisture that had started to accumulate on her palms.

One opened his mouth, closed it, then opened it again, only to sigh and rub the bridge of his nose as he moved to the door of the meeting room they had been in, "It's probably easier if we just get this over with. Alright. Everyone out. C'mon hurry up." He waved his hands impatiently at the rest of the team standing around. Reluctantly they all started to move, Seven and Three grumbling about how they didn't want to miss any of the drama. Everyone stopped when her chair clattered to the floor, hands clenched at her sides as she took a step toward the door.

"What drama? One? What's going on?" She hated how shaky her voice came out but she couldn't help it. What did they mean? Was Four their muscle? Was it a weird hazing thing? Would she have to try to kill this person? Try to make it out of this room alive?

One was standing half in and half out of the doorway, hand closed over the door knob. Turning back, he locked eyes with her (Y/E/C) ones.

Her blood ran cold. He looked, sorry. Almost like he pitied her. She was pretty sure One didn't have feelings so to see this much emotion directed at her?

She was terrified.

"It'll all make sense. Just...do what you think is right. Okay? You seem like a smart kid. Trust your gut."

And with those cryptic words he left, shutting the door. Sealing her in to wait for this new threat to emerge.

One walked out of the conference room and ran right into Billy.

"Jesus, kid. Any closer to me and you'd need to buy me dinner and drinks before that shit."

Billy's eyes looked right through One, "Is she in there? What did you tell her? What's she like? What did she say?"

One held up his hands to cut off the avalanche of questions, "Yes. The bare minimum by introducing her to everyone. She's like how she was a few minutes ago when you were spying on her, don't think I didn't see you, and she hasn't said anything that I would write home to my own mother about. Oh, except she did tell Seven he could get into her Nike leggings."

Billy's eye widened and he twisted his body to where the sounds of the team were filtering back to the two of them, "I'll kill him myself if he even laid a fucking hand on her, I swear to god."

"Woah, hey kid. Easy. It was just some harmless flirting and besides, (Y/N)'s a grown ass woman who can make her own decisions. You don't get to dictate who she does and doesn't sleep with."

Billy's eyes were unfocused as he clenched and unclenched his hands. One took stock of the bundle of nerves before him and felt his shoulders droop a little.

It was times like this that really drove home young Four was. He was the most vulnerable (in terms of emotions and in how little protection he had during missions) and after hearing how he really felt about (Y/N), well, it caused One's own shriveled heart to grow two sizes too big after hearing it.

Even though sometimes when he heard her name, he could still feel Billy’s hand clamping down around his windpipe.

He didn't fault Four for it. Seeing how she reacted at the sight of Four's grave almost made him cave and push Four forward, yelling at her to stop crying.

It ripped his heart apart, especially because it made him think about the family he still had out there.

Sighing, he placed his hands on Billy's tense shoulders, feeling the muscles and sinews so tight he was surprised they didn't snap, "Hey. Hey. Look at me." Billy dragged his eyes away from the door and to One's face, "Don't go in there all freaked out. I think I already stressed her out a little bit so...be cool, okay? And remember, respect her decision. I'll give you all the space you need if she leaves but...respect her choice. That's top priority. Got it?" One gave Four's shoulders a gentle shake so he knew that Four had heard what he’d said.

Feeling Four's joints loosen as he took stock of his words, One slapped him on the back as he walked back down the hallway, "Also, just a heads up, we will be watching this whole interaction over the feeds so just keep that in mind if you two decide to start fucking."

(Y/N) had been pacing the perimeter of the room, checking for cracks, a hidden door, something so she could get out of here alive. She didn't have any weapons on her. Well, except a Swiss Army knife but that barely counted.

Running her finger tips over the walls she felt her heart clench as she looked at her busted fingernails. They were cropped short and bare. She missed her pink sparkly nail polish. She carried it with her everywhere though. She always figured that when she started feeling better she'd paint her nails again. So far, it was still unopened.

Hearing the door knob turn she inhaled sharply, whipping around so her back was pressed into the farthest corner of the room. Her fists clenched and her thighs prepared to pounce or run, whichever came first. Hearing her heart pounding in her chest she took a deep steadying breath as the door opened wider, allowing light to come spilling in, illuminating a silhouette in the doorway.

She couldn't make out any features under the hood they were wearing. The light in the room was dim and compared to the fluorescent lighting in the hallway, she had to squint to try to make out any features this individual had. Her heart beat sped up the tiniest bit when she realized the figure was built like Billy.

Then the figure cleared their throat and closed the door behind them. Taking cautious steps into the light. She opened her mouth, "Are-are you Four?" The figure stopped abruptly and nodded in response to her question. She wondered briefly if they were a mute as she ran a hand through her hair.

Billy's heart almost fell out of his chest when he saw that her hand was shaking as she pushed her hair out of her face. He so badly wanted to be the one to do that he had to plant his feet more firmly on the floor so he wouldn’t race to her.

"They, uh, they haven't assigned me a number yet and I know you all don't do names here so, I guess we gotta wait for me to really introduce myself but I'm the new recruit. It's nice to meet you." She held out her hand, stepping forward.

After a tense moment, Billy extended his.

She cocked her head to the side when she noticed Four's hand was shaking. She looked up at him but she still couldn't make out his face with the lighting and his hood. She could just see his bottom lip and she was surprised when she felt her stomach clench at the sight of how full and pink it was.

Looking down, she clasped her hand in his and felt her blood run cold.

Running along Four's fingers were tattoos.

Tattoos that were identical to the kind that Billy had.

Lifting her head up seemed to take an eternity to Billy.

He held his breath as her other hand reached up, index finger extended, shaking like a leaf in a storm as she brought it within millimeters of making contact with the tattoos she had traced so lovingly during those 24 hours.

"You bastard."

~~~

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kpurereactions · 4 years

Text

Love Shot

CHAPTER 1

A/N: Hello lovelies, Ive been working on this piece for quite a while now and im finally ready to post it. This was inspired by one of my favorite fics of all time, Good Girl, but given my own little twist. I hope you all love Love Shot as much as I do.

Pairing: Exo x Reader

Rating: Drama, Angst, Smut, Fluff

WARNINGS: Language, Eventual Violence, Lots of Smut Later on

Chapter | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 |

I let a smile touch my lips before taking a deep breath in, nodding once at the crisp evening air before turning to lock the door of my new combined studio and apartment. It was the first day where fall really felt like fall. The scent of rain lingered under the dense clouds and the sun was already halfway gone. I had moved back to Seoul only three months ago after being gone for only a little under a year. I had originally came to Seoul to get my masters in painting and painting theory, though I quickly gained enough local fame and connections that no one could quite understand why I left. So I came back.

I stood on the side of the road, my arm outstretched as I wait for a cab. My closest friend from school in the city was opening his gallery tonight and from the posts on my snapchat I could tell a lot of old classmates were already there. Song Mino was the first friend I made when I first moved here. He was talented and refused to fit into the art box the professor tried to force all his students into, as if art should be something someone else tells you to do. It should be your own thing. We had that in common. My style is simplistic. Aesthetic. Easy to look at, but the more you look the more you see behind the top layer. We both strived to challenge the viewer, and because of that we grew really close in our attempt to stick it to the man.

The first show is always the biggest event of an artist's career, and knowing I was seconds away from Mino’s brought another smile to my face as excitement seemed to run through my toes. I couldn't believe how hard he had been working, despite him refusing to let me see anything he had made to showcase.

The gallery itself was breathtaking, I couldn't help but note the obviously more ‘manly’ stain he had chosen for the wooden columns that broke the continuous glass of the front of the gallery. I was the one who helped him make his mind up. I took it in as it was its own work of art before I even walked up the short staircase to the front doors. The tall white walls were similar to my own space, but his had matching wooden floors and walls that were scattered around the room that broke your vision from seeing everything at once. I gave myself another smile as I noticed familiar faces of old classmates and Professors.

It didn't surprise me when I first walked in that I was being asked about the past year and how I’ve been. I was hard to miss, not just because I stood taller than a majority of the women in the room. The constant questioning reminded me why I chose to fail at reaching out when I got back. I made a point to keep trying to catch eye contact with Mino, who only seemed to mask the chuckle from escaping his lips, choosing to leave me to struggle with the boring repetition of the conversations I was having. I finally found the opportunity to excuse myself and all but power walk over to Mino, pretending not to see anyone else I recognized.

“American style!” He said excitedly, pulling me into a hug.

“Don't you ever leave me to the wolves like that again” I whispered in his ear before pulling back. “Mino this is awesome, I’ve only seen a few pieces but im so proud of you!” I said covering up my mild threat before hugging him tightly again. He chuckled with bright eyes before giving my arms a squeeze. His eyes widened as he remembered the man standing next to him.

“Y/n, this is Junmyeon. He is a curator who graduated a few years before us. I've been telling him about your work.” He said as my attention moved to the slick haired man.

“You were talking about me at your own opening?” I said reaching for his hand to shake it.

“I actually asked specifically about you.” Junmyeon said with a soft smile that slowly grew.

“Oh, wow.” I tried to get out past the sound of my heart fluttering at his radiant smile. “Its very nice to meet you then.”

I was informed that Junmyeon was planning on stopping by my studio in the next few days, which brought on a new wave a nerves I've never experienced before. It wasn't until Mino placed his hand on my back to excuse the two of us could I finally breathe.

“Jesus, why is he so intimidating?” I said looking back over my shoulder as he dipped his chin to take a sip of his drink.

“If you think he’s intimidating your crazy” Mino said, leading me over to the first piece he wanted to show me.

“Did he asked to buy any of your work?” I asked before he could change the topic.

“All of it.” Mino said with a big smile.

“All of it?!”

“Yes. He’ll probably buy a lot of your stuff too. It’s more his style anyways.”

“Oh my god.” I said shaking my head.

I let Mino take control of the conversation as he began to explain the clay molded figure in front of us. I spent the rest of my time there following Mino around, while sipping on my wine and listening to him talk. Even though, as much as I was paying attention, it was hard to get your mind off of Junmyeon.

“Promise me you wont sell this one. I know you promised everything but see if this one could be an exception. I want to buy it.” I said pointing at a tall, organic figure of a woman. The memory of when Mino had made it flooded back as it was my first time to ever pose for another artist.

“Ill ask.” he said smiling before taking my hand and leading me to the next piece.

I tried to stay as late as I could. Mino was off somewhere talking art leaving me once again to be interrogated by my former classmates who all seemed to be very smug about the fact that I had yet to have an opening. It didn't matter what valid excuse I would give, they only cared that it hasn't happened yet. Thankfully I must have looked as uncomfortable as I felt since a hand wrapped around my arm to pull me back. I was just about to thank Mino for coming back and saving me when I turned to face Junmyeon.

“You didn't look too excited about that.” He said looking back over to the three girls who were all staring with confused and almost jealous looks in their eyes.

“Good to know it was obvious.” I said taking a sip of wine. Just as I was about to say something else Mino walked up.

“I think I'm going to head out. I have a pick up early in the morning.” I said, trying not to make it sound like I was at my ropes end with the girls who had added whispering to their staring. I smiled and quickly kissed Mino’s cheek softly before turning to Junmyeon and shaking his hand again, trying to do so without having to hear a protest from Mino.

The air outside sobered me up a little, and because of how nice it was outside I couldn't help but smile and start to walk down the sidewalk. Mino’s studio wasn't that far from mine, just a few blocks down and a horseshoe turn away, so I placed my hands in my coat pocket and began to walk. I let my eyes wander from the fashion that was passing me to the way the lights reflected off the puddles left from the rain that morning. Just as I was really starting to enjoy my walk the sky opened again, soft raindrops falling from the sky.

I sighed, of course this would happen. Clocking where I was I dipped into an alley, deciding the fastest way to get out of the rain in my heels would be to cut through the alleyways. Usually this idea was fine. I would maybe run into one or two strangers, but they were usually restaurant owners who were taking the trash out or sweeping their areas so the sound of voices deeper in the alley didn't really bother me.

“Kai come on! Oh my god no.” I heard a man laugh deeper into the darkness of the alley. But as I got closer to my studios back door I realized the figure I could hardly make out at first were men. Multiple men. Usually this wouldn't bother me but as I got closer the feeling of fear in the pit of my stomach started to deepen and deepen.

I took a deep breath when I started to pass them, my heart beating a million miles a minute while trying to keep a poker face to seem unphased so they wouldn't pay me any mind. Until they did.

“Hey wait!” I heard one of them call. I quicken my step slightly. Not to show I was scared, but just incase. “Wait, where are you going? I’ll walk you home.”

I looked up to see a half lit face walking backwards in front of me. I squinted slightly to try to get my eyes to adjust to what was under the ball cap he wore, but there was no use.

‘Shit’ I thought. I was staring too long. I looked away and quickened my step again.

“Oh come on! At least tell me your name!” He shouted after he stopped, his voice now behind me.

I was able to breathe again once my key was in my door, officially sure he stopped following me. But still the shape of the man's mouth was enough to stay in my brain as I flicked the lights to my gallery on and made my way upstairs to my bed.

___

“Mino I swear they were so scary.” I said pushing my denim painting shirt up past my elbows before wrapping my hands around the coffee cup that sat in front of me.

“I just don't understand why you didnt call a cab when you left.” He said sitting back in his chair, obviously taking it out on himself for not seeing me off safely.

“I just wanted to walk. I didn't plan on going through the alley.” I grumbled. I hated when Mino tried to school me. He was only a few months older than I was, and although I knew here it meant something different, he also knew that where I’m from it didn't.

“Do you at least remember what they looked like?” He asked, noticing my mood change.

“Um.. kind of. There were like five or six of them, but I only got a good look at one of them. He was a little taller than you, pillow lips… he was wearing a hat so I really didn't get a good look at his eyes. But he had to have been an athlete of some sort.” I said, my words getting quieter as I realized I would have had nothing to go off of if something bad had happened.

The coffee date ended with Mino once again scolding me, which I knew I deserved, but there was only so much I could take without pouting all the way home. I couldn't help thinking about the man in the hat. Why he was there in the alley with his friends. Why did he follow me, but then give up so easily? It's not like his friends were calling him back. If he was going to bother me in the first place, why give up? The more I thought about what had happened the more I worked myself up. They probably saw me unlock my door. What if they showed up in my studio? What if they came back with more people?

I half thought about texting Mino, but knew there was no point. He would be more worried about it than I was and he had better things to do then baby sit me in my own home. So instead, the moment I got inside I turned my windows down, making sure no one could see inside my studio incase they were passing to see if I was there. It was weird, though, this new set fear was enough to put me into overdrive. My inspiration hit me in my face and I couldn't pull a fresh canvas out fast enough to get the blurred images of last night down.

———

Music played loudly as I was lost in my own world. A galaxy of light and dark colors swirled and blended into one another across my canvas creating the confusing, but exciting pattern that seemed to get better with every stroke.

I was pulled out of my own head when the sound of someone's voice yelling over the music made me look up. I smiled to see Junmyeon and two other men trailing him into the room.

“Oh! One second please!” I said trying to press pause with the clean part of my palm. “Sorry, I didn't realize how loud that had gotten.” I said wiping my hand on my shirt before shaking Junmyeons hand.

“Its fine, good to see your working so hard because I brought with me two potential buyers.” He said gesturing to the two men on his left. “This is Byun Baekhyun and Kim Jongin.” He said.

I smiled shaking Baekhyun's hand, but the moment I met Jongin's eyes I felt my body stiffened slightly. He was familiar. Almost to familiar. I forced the feeling to be shaken off though, there was no reason why he would have possibly been brought into my studio if he had been hiding out in the alleyway behind the building the night before. Or at least I had hoped. But there was something about the way he smiled at me that made me feel like he knew it too. That he had seen me the night prior too.

I tried hard not to think about it. If Junmyeon was there, I was safe and if he was the man he probably wouldn't try to do anything with two other people there to witness. I turned my attention back to Junmyeon who asked if he could look through my paintings.

“Oh of course. And the racks on this back wall have more in it. I rotate them so the ones that are up are only there because they have a similar theme.” I said before trying to smile as normal as possible and turning back to my easel.

My drive was gone. I was too busy focusing on Jongin, who stood there supporting his chin in his hand as he listens to Junmyeon explain why he liked a certain piece. I took this opportunity to text Mino. Now if any would be a good time to alert him.

Mino, I think the guy from last night in the hat is in my studio with Junmyeon. I don't know what to do.

“Y/n, were looking to fill a room. Do you have any others with these same earthy tones?” Junmyeon said, pulling my attention away from my phone.

“Oh, yes. There over here.” I said smiling, slipping my phone into my back pocket before leading the men over to the opposite wall. I walked them through my color schemes, explaining to them the way I had everything organized just incase they changed their mind on a color or style they wanted. I was surprised Junmyeon and Baekhyun were able to distract me from the thoughts swirling in my head for the rest of the time they were there, but it helped that Jongin stayed behind us, obviously not trying to chime in.

“Y/n, thank you once again for taking us in on such short notice. We will take the one on the wall and the two that have been stored if they are not already spoken for.”

“Of course, Ill wrap them for you so they’re ready to be taken.” I said turning to make a mental note as to which ones it was.

“Thank you again. We will be in touch.” He said, bowing his head slightly before taking my hand in a soft, yet firm hand shake.

“Thank you.” Baekhyun said sweetly as he took my hand next.

“Good to see you again. I hope to see you in the future as well” Jongin said with a small wink before taking my hand and giving it a firm shake.

The moment his hand touched mine my heart dropped. There couldn't be a way that was really him. The moment the door closed I reached for my phone again only to see Mino hadn't responded. It didn't stop me from quickly typing out another message, though.

It was him. It had to be him. Why else would he tell me it was good to see me again before winking if it wasn't him?

I looked up to see their backs bending one by one to get into the large black vehicle they came in, and once I was sure the door to the vehicle was closed and they weren't looking I quickly walked forward and locked the door again before backing up to my easel where I desperately tried to finish my work before deciding to just give up.

I couldn't focus. Not while finishing, not while making myself dinner, and not while I was laying in bed trying to fall asleep. I rolled to my side and reached for my phone. 3:00am. I sat up, swinging my legs over the edge of my bed, taking my blanket with me and wrapping it tightly around my shoulders. I made your way up to the railing of my room slowly which allowed me look down onto my gallery. I wrapped the blanket closer over my shoulders before letting my elbows rest on the railing so I was more comfortably looking out the window. I smiled to myself finally feeling calm again. I loved how quiet the streets were at night. How all the colors of the lights around seemed to mix together on the rained on asphalt that laid below them.

It felt calm. But as my eyes were scanning I couldn't help but see two figures standing across the street. I squinted my eyes to try to catch a reflection of who the people were only to realize it was Jongin and Junmyeon. I stared at the two in shock as they talked across the road. They seemed to be laughing. I tried to calm myself down, telling myself they were probably just out getting drinks and just so happened to be standing across the street from my apartment. But then I remembered what the time was. I couldn't stop myself from panicking, and just as I was about to turn to hide myself, my eyes met with Jongin’s.

I didn't know it was possible for my heart to drop even further into my stomach as he gave me a devilish grin and wink. I scrambled back to my bedside table where I quickly reached for the remote that controls my space, knocking it off the table before I was able to press the button that made my windows go solid.

Chapter 2

#exo #exo fic #exo mafia #exo smut #exo reactions #exo drabbles #Junmyeon #Suho #Minseok #Xuimin #Baekhyun #Lay #Yixing #Jongdae #Chen #Jongin #Kai #Sehun #Chanyeol #Kyungsoo #DO

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