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#why was the event being held like. in a tiny room in a building near the hoover dam (which looked wildly different btw)
cidnangarlond · 1 year
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have not actively watched nor cared about doctor who for a very long time but I had a nice dream related to it so I've been thrown off a little
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agustdakasuga · 3 years
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Between The Bloodshed | Chapter 18
Genre: Mafia!AU, Angst, Romance, Fluff
Pairing: OT7 x Reader
Characters: Doctor!Reader, Gangster!Namjoon, Gangster!Seokjin, Gangster!Yoongi, Gangster!Hoseok, Gangster!Jimin, Gangster!Taehyung, Gangster!Jungkook
Summary: Being a freelance doctor, this was just supposed to be any other job, helping a private client and taking care of him through his recovery. But you were not expecting to get caught in something so much darker that would change your life entirely.
There are just too many things going on right now with a heavier workload and more responsibilities. But maybe now is the best time to address the emotions that seem to be running too high. 
Warning: This story is fictional and has nothing to do with real life events or the actual members of BTS. It may contain depictions of violence, blood shed/ gore and mentions of abuse. Please read at your own discretion.
Chapter warning(s): Mentions of glass injury, censored curse word by angry Yoongi, reader goes drinking so alcohol mention. 
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With the birth of your new niece, you had been even more busy, if that was even possible. Unfortunately, Jisung wasn’t able to stay over anymore because you were worried about him knowing what the boys did as their ‘jobs’. 
“Koo, I know it hurts but you have to stop moving.” You scolded as you used your tweezers to remove the shards of glass from his knuckles. Jungkook whined as he winces in pain. You had to make sure you removed every little piece of he might get an infection. 
“I told you to stop being reckless.” You sighed, placing the pieces of glass onto the cotton pad. 
“I was careful...”
“You punched through a car window. I don’t know how careful that was.” You rolled your eyes. When you were sure all the glass pieces were out, you moved the magnifier lamp away and threw the glass away. 
“I wasn’t going to let him get away. So I punched through the window and pulled him out.” 
“Okay, you already know what is next. So take a deep breath.” You warned, getting the antiseptic spray ready. 
“Can we skip that?” He whined. 
“Can you not get so badly injured?” You retorted, making him pout. You shook the bottle and he took a deep breath, biting his bottom lip and scrunching his face to brace. 
“Okay, we’re done.” You cooed. Jungkook let out tiny whimpers like an injured puppy, his eyes glossing over. You patted his head, gently dabbing his wounds with a cotton. Once that was done, you wrapped his knuckles up, fastening them in place with some medical clips. Jungkook watched as you cleared up the messy area, disinfecting the table after. 
“How’s your niece?” 
“She’s doing good, both her and her mother are getting all the rest and care that they need. Her name is Yuri.” You said, scrolling on your phone to show Jungkook a picture. 
“She’s cute. She has the same eyes as Jisung.” Jungkook smiled. You laughed, nodding in agreement. 
“So... did you find someone to accompany you to the ball yet?” He asked, finger drawing imaginary shapes on your desk. 
“If you couldn’t tell, I’ve been rather busy the past few days. And unfortunately, finding a date for the ball is at the end of my priority list now.” You scoffed, typing on your computer. Jungkook just hummed. 
“Well, I was wondering if-”
BANG!
You turned your head to see Yoongi standing at your door. His shoulders rise and fell with each pant. A deep frown was on his face and even if it was anger, it was very rare to see Yoongi display such strong emotion. You weren’t scared but worried and curious. 
“Out.” Was all he said to Jungkook. Jungkook didn’t even bother arguing like he usually did, standing up and making a beeline for the door. 
“What’s wrong?” You stood up. Yoongi seemed to hesitate for a while, it was obvious he was having an internal debate with himself. He untucked a manila folder from under his arm. 
“Yoong-”
“Just read it.” He cut you off, sliding the folder across your desk to you. You gave him a look before undoing the string, looking at the contents. 
“What does all that mean?” He asked impatiently. 
“Yoongi, this-”
“Just tell me.” He pressed. 
“It’s cancer. That’s all I can tell you now.” You sighed, putting the summary report down. Yoongi seemed shock, walking back into the chair opposite yours. It was silent as you continued looking at the other reports and Yoongi let reality sink in. He stared ahead blankly but you knew Yoongi well enough that he didn’t want to be comforted right now. 
“What else?” He asked. 
“Yoongi, you can shout at me all you want. But I am not telling you anything else until you tell me who this report belongs to.” You said firmly. Yoongi glared at you but you weren’t backing down. 
“Half brother.” He mumbled. Considering Yoongi has never even mentioned any siblings before, you believe this half brother was estranged. 
“He won’t let me near him after what my dad did to his mother. Getting a copy of these reports was the only way to know what was really going on.” Yoongi explained briefly. 
“It’s non-small cell lung cancer, stage 3.” 
“What does that mean? Can he be cured? Whatever needs to be done, I’ll do it.” Yoongi said firmly. 
“At this point, it still seems regional, which means it is only affecting the tissues in the surrounding area. It hasn’t widespread yet. Surgery can be performed to remove the affected tissue followed by chemo or laser therapy to kill off any other affected cells.” You informed. 
“Can you do it?” This was Yoongi practically begging at this point. 
“Can I do it? Yes, I can. Will I do it? No, I won’t.” You said, placing all the medical documents back into a stack, putting it back into the original envelope that it came in. 
“WHY THE F*CK NOT?!” Yoongi stood up with so much force, his chair fell back, crashing onto the ground. 
“If you read the report, you would know that your brother’s cancer has only gotten to this stage because he refuses treatment of any kind. He refuses to take even one pill from his doctor. You force him to do such a big surgery he doesn’t want, any plans you had of making up for your broken sibling relationship will be gone.” You frowned. 
“Hyung...” The others appeared at the door. They had rushed over when they heard the crash. 
“When Min Geumjae comes to me on his own will and tells me he wants the surgery, I’ll do it. But until then, I refuse to even look at his file.” You pushed the manila envelope back to him. 
“Hyung.” Namjoon brought Yoongi out to cool down. You let out a sigh, shivering slightly as you turned your chair around, back facing the boys. 
“This is the last thing I need.” You rubbed your temples. 
“Hey, you alright?” Hoseok’s soft voice appeared on your side. You opened your eyes to meet his worried ones. 
“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?” You replied a little colder than you intended to, turning back to your computer. The boys cast each other uneasy looks before everyone was ushered out by Jin. Only Jimin remained behind. 
“Say, what are you doing tonight?” He asked, leaning against your desk. 
“Chim, I really don’t have the time for this. If you aren’t injured or need medical help, please go somewhere else. I have work to do.” You said, typing away the report that was on your screen. Even your big computer monitor looked like a mess with multiple windows everywhere. 
“Come out with me. Tonight.”
“Chim, I-”
“I’ll meet you at the foyer. 9pm.” He smiled sweetly before getting off your desk and walked out. You stared at your closed door before shaking your head and turning back to your work. 
It was close to 9 when you came down from your room. You didn’t know how to dress but if you were going out with Jimin, you knew you had to meet standards. 
“Where is he?” You checked the time on your phone. 
“Uh, going out...?” Namjoon saw you and immediately grew curious. You were in a short, black bodycon dress with a slit on your left thigh. 
“Yeah.” You nodded. Some others passed by and also couldn’t help but stare at you all dressed up. They loitered around, wanting to see if they could catch a glimpse of someone picking you up. 
“I’m here! Sorry for being late but we can do now.” Jimin came rushing down, adjusting his suit jacket. He was in a more casual suit than the usual business ones the boys wore, the red jacket and pants complimenting to loose, black undershirt nicely. The others that were there in the foyer were speechless with their eyes wide. Jimin was taking you out?!
“Let’s go.” Your words confirmed their suspicion. 
“You look nice.” Jimin complimented. You let out a hum, bending slightly to wear your shoes. 
“The driver is outside.” He held his arm out for you to take as you headed out the door. You failed the hear the scrambling of footsteps from the others, rushing to the window to see Jimin opening the door for you. 
“What?!” Taehyung screeched. 
“That hyung is good.” Jungkook shook his head. 
The car stopped in front of a building. The neon sign flashed ‘Filter’. You remember this as one of Jimin’s businesses. 
“Come.” The driver opened the door for the both of you. People who were either waiting to get in or entering stopped to stare at the both of you. The girls squealed at Jimin’s good looks but the boy only focused on you. He placed a hand on your waist. 
“Good evening, boss.” The bouncers bowed. 
“That’s the boss?” 
“He’s so good looking!” The people were whispering. When the bouncers opened the velvet rope, Jimin led you in. The staff must have known that Jimin was here because some guys immediately came to you to serve you. 
“I’ve got it, guys. Thanks. But she’s mine.” Jimin waved his boys away. You couldn’t help but heat up at his words. 
“Yes, boss. Have a nice evening.” They wished the both of you and bowed before leaving the both of you. You felt rather lost in this whole situation, you’ve never seen this side of Jimin before. 
“You look like a lost lamb.” Jimin chuckled. He continued to guide you to the elevated VIP platform. Your booth overlooked the other club goers. 
“What would you like to drink? It’s on the house. You can just sit back and relax.” Jimin asked as you sat down. 
“Well, if you say so, Mr Park. Then I’ll start with a red sangria, please.” You ordered with a chuckle. Jimin laughed along as he nodded and sat down beside you on the plush couch, pressing a button on the armrest. In a few seconds, a tall male in a suit came in. His name tag flashed ‘manager’. He bowed deeply to the both of you. 
“A red sangria for her and a beer for me to start.” Jimin ordered. 
“Yes, sir.” He bowed and left. 
“You know, I’m perfectly fine being with the normal people downstairs. I don’t need a VIP booth or any special treatment.” You said. 
“Nonsense. (y/n), don’t you realise? You’ll be granted entrance and a VIP booth to anywhere that you go. It doesn’t matter whether me or the other boys are there.” He raised an eyebrow. 
“What do you mean?” 
“That.” Jimin pointed. You followed his finger to your bracelet on your wrist. The very one that Namjoon gave you when you joined. 
“That bracelet is a symbol that you’re part of the family.” He said briefly. You looked at the bracelet. Even if it was dark, the pink diamond charm was shining brightly next to the wing charm. 
“Don’t take it off.”
You remember Taehyung’s words when he first put the bracelet around your wrist. The manager coming back in with your drinks broke your train of thought. Jimin handed you your drink and you clinked glasses together before taking a sip. You let out a relaxed sigh. 
“It’s good.” You smiled, swirling the drink in your glass. 
“I’m glad. Have as much as you like.” Jimin grinned as he sipped his own beer. He was just happy you were smiling again. 
“Jimin... You probably think I’m cruel, huh? For not helping Yoongi.” You guessed that Jimin knew the situation with Yoongi since he was one of the ones that was the closest to the elder. 
“Why would you think that?” 
“Do you know why I refuse to do the surgery?” You asked as you stared at the drink in your hand. Jimin shook his head. 
“Because, I’ve seen it all before. Families, relationships, torn apart... Because some people think what they’re doing is the best for the patient. But have they really asked the patient what they want? My parents were all for it. Doing big surgeries brought a lot of good image and reputation but I didn’t want to be part of that.” You confessed. 
“(y/n)...”
“That’s why I can’t do it. I’ve seen people bribe patients to do surgeries with such high risk just to give the press something to write about.” You said. 
“I know Yoongi only has good intentions. He only wants his brother to live. But at what cost? If his brother doesn’t want it, who are we to make that decision for him? We can’t just make him do it.” 
“I never realised...” Jimin said. 
“It’s just the way the world is. Why do you think I live through my parents’ snide remarks instead of giving in to work for them?” You chuckled bitterly. 
“A son of an old patient contacted me that day. His mother needs a heart valve replacement, which can be a rather risky surgery considering her age and it’s open heart surgery.” You started. 
“Is she going to do it?”
“She didn’t... That’s why her son wanted me to convince her. I told him I would look at the medical reports before speaking to her. In the end, I declined. Yes, cruelly, I’m letting someone die. But why am I trying so hard to convince someone to do something they don’t want to do?” You looked at him. 
“Of course, I know when people have a chance of living and yet, they refuse, it’s a shame. But I willingly live with that guilt and regret.” You threw your head back. Jimin wrapped an arm around you. 
“I hate seeing you upset.” He comforted. You closed your eyes, putting an arm around him. 
-
“Hehehe.” You giggled as Jimin carried you into the house. Maybe you had a bit too much to drink but you were very insistent that you were not drunk. The other boys came down. 
“Oh my... How did she get so drunk?” Jin’s eyes widened when he saw you. None of them have ever seen you in that state before. Seeing the other boys standing there, you blinked at them before grinning and waving at them. Namjoon was the first to take you from Jimin. He gave you an amused smile and you poked his dimple. 
“Cute.” You commented. 
“Let’s get you to bed.” Namjoon said softly. 
“But I’m not sleepy...” You mumbled, cuddling against his chest. Jungkook patted your head. 
“Hyung, can we talk?” Jimin asked Yoongi. Yoongi nodded his head wordlessly, walking with the shorter male out to the garden. Namjoon looked at the two before bringing you upstairs. 
“Who are you?” You tilted your head. 
“Namjoon, doc. Did you forget me already?” He chuckled.
“Doc... I’m a doctor?” Your eyes widened as you pointed at yourself. Namjoon hummed in reply with a nod, kicking your room door open. He placed you to sit on your bed. 
“Woah... I’m a doctor. That’s cool. And what about you, Mr Namjoon? Are you a doctor too?” You asked. 
“No, I’m not a doctor. Only you are a doctor.” He said, grabbing some makeup wipes and began to gently wipe the makeup off your face. You seemed so fascinated with the life you were learning about from Namjoon. 
“You’re really nice, Mr Namjoon.” You giggled. 
“Thank you. Now, doc, do you think you can change out of your dress and into these?” He asked, holding up a shirt and some shorts. You stared at the articles of clothing before nodding your head. Namjoon ushered you to your bathroom and closed the door, staying on the other side. 
“I’m done.” You said. Thankfully, you were able to successfully change. Namjoon tucked you into bed. 
“Goodnight, doc.” He wished. 
“No, Mr Namjoon, don’t goooooo.” You whined, holding onto his wrist. 
“Come on, doc. Be good, you have to sleep. We can hang out tomorrow.” He coaxed. You pouted with a frown, crossing your arms like a little kid throwing a tantrum. 
“Well, then what do you want to do?” 
“I don’t know... I want to stay with you.” You said sadly. Namjoon smiled endearingly, patting your head. He helped you out of bed and into his room. 
“You can stay here with me.” He got under the covered. You snuggled close to him as he leaned against the headboard, reading his book. Even if you weren’t doing anything, you were content. 
“Are you comfortable?” Namjoon asked. You nodded your head, yawning again. He reached over to pat your head.
“Mr Namjoon?” 
“Hmm?”
“Do you have a girlfriend? Or someone that you like?” 
“I don’t have a girlfriend... But there may be someone I fancy. Actually, doc-” When he heard no sound from you, he stopped. Looking down, Namjoon saw that you were fast asleep, tucked under his arm comfortably. Namjoon closed his book, putting it on the nightstand before turning off the lights. 
“She probably thinks I’m just like her parents. Or all those other people she hates.” Yoongi sighed, leaning against the railing of the gazebo. 
“She’s doesn’t, hyung. You know doc isn’t like that. She knows all you wanted to do was help your brother. None of us would know all this, she only told me tonight.” Jimin shrugged. 
“All I did was add to her stress.” 
“Hyung, stop. Doc always tells you about taking all the blame on yourself and how it’s a bad habit.” Jimin scolded, making Yoongi hang his head. 
“Well, she said that she won’t do the surgery already. So I guess there’s really nothing else I can do except speak to my brother to try and get him to do the surgery... Or just watch him die.” Yoongi said bitterly. Jimin knew Yoongi was just at lost and as painful as it sounded, those were really his only options. He wrapped his hands around the older.
“No matter what his decision is, I’m sure he would appreciate your support. It’s never too late to mend a broken relationship.” Jimin comforted. 
“That’s if he ever wants to see me again.” 
“You’ll never know, hyung. Maybe a serious, sit down conversation is all you need.” Jimin pulled away with a chuckle. Yoongi forced a small smile, nodding his head in agreement. 
“About doc, I’ll speak to her soon. Thanks for taking her out.” Yoongi patted Jimin’s shoulder.
“I didn’t do it for you.” 
“Huh?” 
“I didn’t do it as a favour for you. I did it because I hate seeing the woman I love upset.” Jimin said before turning around to talk back into the house. 
~~
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ichigoromi · 3 years
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𝐀𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐮𝐩 | 𝐒𝐚𝐤𝐮𝐬𝐚 𝐊𝐢𝐲𝐨𝐨𝐦𝐢 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧 | 𝐇𝐚𝐢𝐤𝐲𝐮𝐮 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧
I'm up for another Sakusa angst... Yay?
I guess, I hope you guys enjoy reading?
I'm sorry if I made you cry...
All characters are aged up!
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Sakusa Kiyoomi
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It has been exactly 11 months, 11 days, and 11 hours since you two have decided to end the relationship.
The break was inevitable. You were studying in the States, and he is a professional athlete who has little to no time to visit you.
No matter how much you want to fix the relationship, it was beyond repair.
You started to count the days that you two have broken up for as a way to cope, but it was unhealthy for you, mentally.
Sure, your studies were going better after the breakup, but you ended up drinking till your wasted in your tiny apartment.
Seeing how happy he was on his social media platform makes you wonder if you were the one who caused the break-up after all.
Even though you two agree mutually to the breakup, it was harder on you.
You lost so much weight, and your complexion was too pale to be considered healthy.
Roll in the best friends; they practically filled your fridge and made sure you were eating your three meals.
After you gained back to a healthy weight, they took you out for a makeover trip and got you a closet makeover as well.
You got back into your school life and leaned on your friends for support, but how could you ever forget the good memories that you made with Sakusa as well.
Your friends helped you pack any momento or gifts that he gave you into a box and send it back to him since you two have broken up and as a proper closure for you two.
But there was just one thing that you can't bear to part with, his personal hoodie that he first gave you when you two started going out in high school.
Your friends had a hard time trying to persuade you to part with it but gave in to you.
Inside the box, you included a letter address to him, your one last letter to him.
It goes likes this...
Dear Mimi or Kiyoomi,
This would probably be the last time that I address you like that. I know we have decided to end our relationship, and it's all my fault even though you said it's no one's fault. I'm going to return these because these were the gifts that you gave me. You can burn or throw them away; it's all up to you. The break-up was rough, but thanks to it, I grew a lot from it. I know you recently got a new girlfriend, good for you, you look genuinely happy with her, guess I held on to you too long? I'm sorry for breaking the promise first. I'm sorry for breaking your heart; I'm sorry that I cannot be there for you. Thank you for the wonderful memories that you left me. I never stop loving you and will always be there for you.
With love,
Your first.
You wiped away the tears and signed off and place it on top of everything, and prepared to mail it.
For the first time after your break up, you felt some kind of relief.
After you mailed it out, you and your friends went for some good old Korean barbeque and tons of alcohol.
You were so drunk that your friends carried you home, and all of them stayed in your apartment, in case something happens to you.
You posted some pictures of you having a good time with your friends and knocked out from the huge amount of drinks you had.
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He thought he would live his life as normal after the breakup, but he couldn't.
Everything just was not the same. The routine that he has built around you, he has to change it.
You were not in his life anymore.
Atsumu tried to cheer him up by setting him up with some of his friends, and sure they had good personalities, but they were just not you.
After months of trying to date, he finally met the one.
He was finally able to smile and be back to the normal him.
His team was relieved that he was not in his depressed state and living well.
Atsumu and Bokuto still keep in close contact with you, following you on their social media platforms.
When they thought he was not listening, he could listen to them calling you and face timing.
Based on Atsumu and Bokuto's reaction, he can tell that you are doing good.
He knows that your graduation was in a few weeks and you would continue to further your studies there.
Bokuto and Atsumu, along with some of your high school friends, were going to fly to the States to attend your graduation.
He wants to go to, but he has a new person in his life now.
A few days later, he received a box from your address.
He went to open the box in his dorm room, and it was the gifts and the letters you two exchanged since high school.
When he read the letter that you wrote him, he broke down.
You were his first love, the very first person that he made friends with, the very first person that made his heart skip, and the very one that made him the person that he is today.
It was bad. The feelings that he thought was once gone came back again.
He never stops loving you, and he will continue to love you as long as he can.
He needed some time away from dating and some time to heal.
The last gift he could give you was something that would last till you guys meet next time.
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Graduation came faster than you expected, and finally, you graduate successfully after going through all those obstacles. Your family and friends from Japan are here to celebrate this joyous event with you.
You took pictures with everyone, chatted with a few of your fellow graduates, and managed to make some new connections.
"Oh my god, why is her campus so big? Did we made it in time?"
"Of course not! What did ya think?!"
Your two favourite people are here too.
"Tsumu! Bokkun!"
You waved them over, and they were carrying a bouquet of flowers and a bunch of gifts.
They threw their arms around you and pulls you into their embrace, and it was heartwarming and suffocating. Imagine getting bear-hugged by two professional volleyball players.
"L-let me go!" You managed to squeeze out a call for help, and they immediately let you go.
"This gift, open when you are alone."
It was a small bag, but you could not help but wonder who gave you that gift.
- - -
After getting lunch with your family and friends, you went back to your apartment alone to start packing up for your new journey.
You were going to move to Korea for your Master's program. Most of your close friends knew about this and hook you up with their close contacts in Korea so that you would have some form of support in a foreign country.
While packing, you remember the gift that Bokuto and Atsumu told you to open when you are alone.
You grab it, and it was a letter and a blue velvet ring box.
Immediately you recognised the handwriting. That neat and clean handwriting would belong to none other than Sakusa himself.
Congratulations on your graduation.
I have received your mail, and there's so much that I want to say. I apologise for not making it to your graduation, but those two idiots are there to represent me. After receiving that box from you and that letter, I immediately broke up with her. I realised that my feelings for her were not genuine, and I was just using her as a rebound, and I break things off because I don't want to hurt her further.
I'll wait for you. I know this may sound far-fetched, but will you marry me?
I don't expect any replies, but please accept the ring if you agree to marry me.
If you reject me, you can return the ring to Atsumu.
I'll be waiting,
Sakusa Kiyoomi
This man...even he is at the other part of the world, he still manages to make your heart skip. You open the box and inside one of the most dazzling rings you have laid your eyes on.
And you recognise it.
It was a Harry Winston.
You used to joke to him in high school that you want it to be a Harry Winston ring when he proposed.
Now, it's not a joke. You slid the ring onto your left hand, and it fits perfectly.
You dialled the number that you know it like it's the back of your hand.
"You idiot, do you still love me after all this time? What's with the proposal? It's s-so lame." You sniffled over the phone.
"Really? Does that mean you are not taking me back? In high school, you said that you were going to kick my ass if I break up with you. You wanted a proposal with a Harry Winston, right?" Hearing his voice, you broke down.
"I-I m-missed y-you so much! Why do you still have so much effect on me? You bad man!" You wailed into the phone and hear his deep chuckles.
"Oh my, you became more of a baby after we broke up. Do you want to see me now?"
"What? You mean facetime?"
"No, come to the park near your apartment building."
You grabbed your coat and rushed out of your building. There's no way he is here. No way. How could it be...
And he was there. With his arms wide open and a small smile on his handsome face.
"H-how? I-What? You idiot!" You threw yourself into his embrace, and he wraps his arms around you, and you sobbing in his chest.
"I flew in, of course. I got the timing right." He cups your face gently to make you look up to him. Then he saw the ring on your left hand and kisses you on the lips.
You shut your eyes and savours the kiss that was needed after being apart for so long.
"Sakusa Kiyoomi, you are one crazy man." You shook your head and kiss his lips again.
"Yeah, I'm crazy for you." He kisses you again for a long time.
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I can't end it with a sad ending; I'm sorry to you guys if you wanted a sad ending. I'm crazy for soft Sakusa.
I love him.
I hope you guys enjoy reading this!
Thank you for reading!
Stay safe and take care!
With love,
Rosalie🍓
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messymessyml · 3 years
Text
Breaking and Entering
I'll be moving this one over to AO3 at some point (done, available here), but I'll start this off on Tumblr. This is a lighthearted, multi-chapter Jasonette story.
Summary:
Marinette is away from home when a curious visitor drops in. The kwami don't see any problem letting the man in; the question is: what will the guardian think when she realizes an intruder was in her house while she was gone?
Chapter 1 is below the cut.
Chapter 1: What did I come back to now?
Marinette felt a wave of relief hit her as her key turned smoothly in the lock. She was more than ready to unload her bags and take a well-deserved night in after a whirlwind week of consulting with clients in Metropolis. She’d decided to take Tikki and Sass with her and rent a hotel for the week as most of her clients were only available for early morning consultations, and while it was the most effective way to make sure she didn’t miss a meeting, she was glad to be back home.
Gotham may not be as glitzy or have as many potential clients as Metropolis, but it more than made up for that with the anonymity that Gotham allowed her. The local mentality of ‘take no shit’ and ‘mind your own damn business and I’ll mind mine’ allowed the kwami and her freedom that they wouldn’t get in Metropolis, a city crawling with news stations and a baffling love of all things mundane. Half the time when she visited Metropolis it felt like she had a target on her back; the paparazzi were worse in Metropolis than they ever were in her Parisian hero days and that held for her professional pseudonym as well as plain Marinette. It was a wonder that with so many news outlets (and Superman to report on for crying out loud) that she was still the topic of a news piece twice in the past week: once as MDC and once as plain old Marinette. In all seriousness was helping with a local tree planting event for Earth Day that newsworthy?
‘Enough of that’, she thought, realizing that although her door was now unlocked, she’d thought so much about arriving home that she hadn’t even fully opened her door. A slight twinge of embarrassment hit her. Carrying her tiny friends everywhere was always a blessing, but sometimes, she mused, it might be nice not to have an audience for every action she took—no matter how embarrassing.
Letting go of that train of thought, Marinette stepped through and closed her door behind her, feeling tension bleed out of her shoulders. The underlying scent of vanilla and blossom honey hit her nose as she strode over to the kitchen island. She set her bags to the side and took a hold of one of her swinging barstools with the intention to sit for a bit before making any attempt at dinner for the kwami and herself. Absently tracking the path Sass and Tikki took as they flew in the direction of the room where she kept the Miracle Box, she hesitated to sit as she noticed a slowly building feeling of unease hit her. Something, she thought, was off.
Sharpening her gaze and gripping the barstool a little tighter, Marinette scanned her apartment. At first glance, the living space looked unchanged from how she left it; the furniture was where it belonged, and her shelves and wall art were unmoved. As she looked closer though, she saw items around the house that were shifted a bit more than they would be if the kwami had decided to explore while she was away: the living room rug was centered, the dishes she had left to dry right before leaving the house a week ago were put away, and the barstool she was currently grasping was a bit more level than it had ever been, thrifted as it were. The kwami were a joy to interact with and an honor to serve as their guardian, but cleaners and tinkers they were not.
Marinette released her grip on the stool, rounding the kitchen island to open the cabinets. Like she thought, the dishes she had washed a week ago were put away and the towers of plates and bowls looked straighter than they were normally. Her gut churned as the beginning stages of worry started to fill her.
A chorus of greetings from behind her met her ears, disrupting her thoughts. Turning, Marinette saw the kwami flying towards her from the hallway.
“Marinette, did you have a nice trip?” Mullo squeaked.
“Guardian, I hope all went well on your trip. It is wonderful to have you back home.” Wayzz said.
The other kwami threw in their own noises and words of agreement, mirroring Wayzz’s welcome.
Marinette couldn’t help her small smile, replying, “My trip went well, and I am happy to be back here with you all.” She paused, hesitating before she asked, “Did anything happen while we were away?”
“Not much, Pigtails.” Plagg swam leisurely into view, tailed closely by Tikki, both twirling as they approached. “Some fighting outside, and a bit of a showdown on rooftops at the end of the block, but no damage to our building.”
Wayzz intercepted Plagg’s path, floating into the center of her vision to say, “That may be true, Plagg; however, one of the combatants took a breather on our balcony by using the garden for cover. He didn’t seem injured, but he was breathing heavier than was wise. Most of us hid in the box while I continued to strengthen the wards on the outer walls and windows.”
Marinette interrupted, “No one entered the apartment?”
Wayzz hesitated, then said “The man stayed hidden as best he could, but he was quite large, and I could feel the shifting balance; if he stayed on the balcony, he would have drawn fire here. I strengthened the barrier outwards then loosened the barrier on the balcony doors, undid the latch for him, and asked Trixx to hide us from view. He had a protector’s spirit and none of us could feel an intent to harm any but the ones he’d been fighting outside. I am sorry, Guardian, for making this decision without your input.”
Marinette took a deep breath to fend off the impending tension headache, unclenching the hand she had used to subconsciously gripped her other wrist. She loosened the muscles around her eyes to soften her gaze. “It’s alright, Wayzz. I wasn’t there, and I trust your intuition. What did he do?”
“He seemed distrustful of the open door at first but ended up entering almost silently and quickly moved to scan the apartment.”
Trixx added, “I made sure he could not see the Miracle Box and that he was not visible from the outside at any point, but he stayed away from the windows for the most part.”
Roarr piped in, “He has a fierce spirit, and I agree with Wayzz that he has a strong protective streak.”
She heard some murmurs of agreement from the other kwami, some of them breaking out into small discussion pertaining to the man’s character. “If so many of you saw him, did you leave the Miracle Box then? What did you see?” Desperately, Marinette wished that the immortal beings she called friends could get to the points.
“Some of us came out to see, but most of us stayed in the box. Trixx’s illusions held; he didn’t see or hear any of us.” Barkk confirmed.
“Yes, he mostly stayed in the living room. He sat right here for a while!” Saying this, Pollen surged towards the end of the couch, landing with their back to the armrest in a bored sprawl. “Like this!”
Plagg, swaying upside down near the ceiling, lazily added, “He wasn’t much fun. All he did was check his guns then started cleaning the place. Boring.”
“Guns?! Cleaning? Why?” Alarmed, Marinette’s heartbeat started to pound at the picture painted by the kwami. They had let a large combatant enter her apartment and all he did was inspect his guns and clean??? ‘This can’t be real’, she thought. ‘Was I caught up in one of Scarecrow’s attacks on the way home?’
“He had good manners at the least.” Kaalki sniffed. “His gear smelled of money and he fixed that stool of yours that never would have entered the premises if you had listened to me from the start. At least now it isn’t horrendously squeaky.”
“Hey!” Mullo protested.
Kaalki just turned away.
“He needed the protection.” Wayzz apologetically said. “He didn’t seem interested in your workroom and he wouldn’t have been able to find the box, so we observed. He cleaned a bit and left after checking that the coast was clear outside.”
Marinette allowed her shoulders to sag. “Alright. If you’re sure.” Glancing around, she gave the kwami a smile, eyes hesitating on the glass doors leading to the balcony, she absently added, “Thank you for keeping an eye on things while I was gone.”
Striding over to the doors leading out to the balcony, she peered out. Nothing seemed out of place out here, but she couldn’t be certain. Checking the door handles, she noticed that one of the kwami or her mystery visitor must have relatched the lock. Unlocking it, she stepped out and went to sit at her patio table. Leaning back in her chair, she let her head tip back to view the sunset, partially obscured by the balcony two floors above her own. Her apartment building had mostly staggered the balconies to allow more light to reach its inhabitants, a must in Gotham’s dreary weather.
After a few moments, she let her head droop forward to land in her hands. As much as she loved them, the kwami’s survival instincts always seemed at odds with hers. She couldn’t tell whether that was due to her anxiety amplifying everything past the point of reason or that the kwami’s inherent existence rendering most danger obsolete, but while some intruder might not be a danger to beings that could turn intangible and invisible at will, she was definitely a bit more breakable (‘Mortal’, her brain whispered) than them. If she had been here? Who knows how that visit might have gone?
Taking a few more minutes to calm her body’s response, a few deep breaths, and a moment or two of gratitude that nothing bad had happened, she straightened a bit as the evening wind started to pick up and a splash of white started to flutter at the edge of her vision. Glancing up, her eye caught on a piece of paper at the other end of the table that was weighted down with a rock she had decorated a while back with paintings of ladybugs and cats playfully chasing each other across a meadow. That particular rock usually spent time in the catnip bed Plagg had insisted on and Tikki had seconded as a nod to both kwami. Curious, she reached out and grabbed the sheet of paper underneath. Opening it, she read:
Dear Stranger,
I was in a bit of a tight spot and hanging around your balcony when your door swung open. Haunted house, much? Hope you don’t mind, but I ended up using your house as a temporary safe house while you were gone. Don’t worry, I made sure no one saw me entering or exiting, so you shouldn’t have any problems from the type of shit that follows me.
On the topic of haunted houses, are you sure yours isn’t haunted? Your house is unnervingly the calmest- and safest-feeling place I’ve been in a while, but I kept seeing blurs out of the corner of my eye and I was NOT concussed. Might want to talk to someone about that.
I ended up tidying a bit while you were gone, hope you don’t mind. Fairs fair, you (unknowingly, I know) lent me a place to stay, I tidied up a bit. Stay out of trouble, alright?
Cheers,
- Red Hood
The Red Hood? The RED HOOD is who they let into the house? For kwami’s sake, what were they thinking?!?
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undercoveravenger · 3 years
Text
Closing Cases
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Written for my 2021 Halloween event
Pairing: EJ Caswell x Male!Detective!Reader
Prompt: EJ with a Nancy Drew/Scooby gang reader investigating something haunting the school and EJ steps up to help. With “I am running on two hours of sleep and fifty tiny candy bars” and “Can we go five minutes without talking about ghosts, ghouls, or goblins?”
A/N: This is prompt # 2 for my Halloween event! The next prompt will be posted Thursday, October 7th.
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East High was being faced by an unexplainable problem. Each night, lockers were being broken into and various class and club rooms had been found vandalized. The faculty had examined the footage from all of the security cameras near the areas that had been attacked, but weren’t able to see anyone in the videos; only that the halls looked normal in one frame, and had been trashed in the next.
As someone who had spent his entire childhood looking up to all of the great detectives, you took it upon yourself to get to the bottom of the situation. You had told Miss Jen, the theater teacher, that you’d be missing rehearsals one afternoon in order to conduct your investigation, but she had been the only person you told.
You supposed that was why it came as such a shock to find EJ Caswell, a popular senior and star of the water polo team and drama department, leaning against the locker beside yours after school.
You disregarded his presence, moving to open your locker and tuck away your textbooks.
“So I hear you’re not going to be at rehearsals today,” EJ said after a moment, turning to face you. “Care to share why?”
“I’ve got more important things to do,” you said easily. You knew it was kind of a weak response, but it was the first thing that’d come to mind.
He rolled his eyes, lips quirking up into a grin. “Yeah, we both do, I guess.”
That gave you pause. You turned to look at him incredulously, and you had to force yourself to ignore the way the amused glint in his pretty blue eyes threatened to make you smile. “Excuse me?”
“You’re investigating the break-ins, right?” EJ asked, crossing his arms over his chest as he watched you.
“I’m not convinced that they have been break-ins, but yes,” you said, grabbing a different backpack entirely out of your locker and leaving the one with your school supplies in it before shutting the door. “Is there a reason you’re talking to me?” You turned away at that, making your way down the quickly emptying halls.
EJ scrambled to keep pace with you, weaving around the remaining students and faculty to stay at your side. “I want to help! I’ll be the first to say I don’t really have experience with investigations, but I want to help stop what’s going on.”
You let out a sigh, turning abruptly to face EJ. “Fine. You can help,” you held up a hand to interrupt him when he made to let out a victorious whoop, “But if you get in the way of my investigation, I will tell you to leave and you will listen. Do we have a deal?”
The brunet nodded vigorously, falling back into step beside you as you resumed your previous path, “Deal. So,” he said, rubbing his hands together in anticipation. “Where do we start?”
“Here,” you said as you came to a stop outside of a janitor’s closet on the second floor.
EJ’s brows furrowed in obvious confusion. “Our investigation starts at the janitor’s closet?”
You nodded, twisting the door open and entering the small room. You sat down, nestling your way between a set of shelves and several empty garbage cans. “Well, this is where we’ll be waiting until the time is right.”
“And when is that?” he asked as he crept into the closet with you, wincing as the door slammed closed behind him.
You snickered, pulling out your phone to set an alarm. “Well, the thief only strikes at night, right? They’ll probably emerge at around nine o’clock, which means we have,” you glanced back at your phone, “About five hours to kill.”
“Five hours?” EJ asked incredulously, blue eyes wide as he looked at you. “What the hell are we going to do for five hours?!”
“Well, I was going to play games on my phone since I wasn’t planning on having company until a few minutes ago,” you said, glancing pointedly down at the device. “You’re still more than welcome to leave, if you don’t want to wait?”
EJ shook his head stubbornly, shifting to sit with his back against the opposite wall from you. “No, but my phone definitely isn’t going to hold up for that long.” He paused, thinking, “Maybe we could play twenty questions while we wait?”
You shrugged, figuring that humoring a cute boy wouldn’t kill you. “Alright, sure. But since it was your idea, you have to go first.”
He smiled widely, clearly delighted that you’d agreed. “Okay!” He hesitated for a moment while he thought, but a question seemed to strike him pretty quickly. “So, do you make it a point to hang out in sketchy janitor’s closets often?”
You barely managed to bite back a snicker, but the upward tilt of EJ’s lips made you suspect that he knew about your poorly concealed amusement. “I do when my cases require it,” you said by means of explanation, but you found yourself elaborating further at the confused-puppy expression on his face. “Today’s a Tuesday, which means that the cleaning staff isn’t in tonight, so no one will be checking this closet for stragglers like they would the library or a classroom. Waiting in here means that I’ll be able to remain in the building after the doors are locked, which means that I’ll be able to find out if anyone else comes into the building after it’s locked down for the night.”
“Wow,” EJ said, eyes wide as he processed everything you’d just said. “You put a lot more planning into this than I would’ve thought?”
“What, you thought I’d just wing it?” you teased. You had to admit, you were enjoying his company far more than you had anticipated. “I like to think that I take my job pretty seriously.”
He gestured wildly with his hands, like he was trying to wave away his previous words. “No, no, no; that’s not what I meant- I meant that-” He cut himself off as he noticed you beginning to laugh, “You’re messing with me, aren’t you?” He faked offense, but the appearance of his dimples gave away his amusement. “Fine, you got me.” His grin widened as he looked at you, “Alright, Mr. Holmes, what’s your leading theory?”
You let out a thoughtful hum, “Currently? Vengeful spirits.”
EJ let out a surprised laugh. It was deep, uncontrollable and infectious, and you were helpless to hide the grin it brought to your face, though it faded after a moment, “You’re serious?”
“Honestly, I’m not sure what else to think,” you started softly, fingers twisting nervously in your lap as you were forced to admit that, for once, you really weren’t sure about what the outcome of your case would be. “Any normal person would have been caught on camera, and the only people in this city that have the ability to manipulate the footage to make it look like no one was there either wouldn’t care enough to do it or they’ve got an alibi.”
EJ’s brows furrowed, “And none of them could have lied about the alibis?”
“Mr. Mazzara could’ve, I suppose,” you mused, “But I double-checked it with Miss Jenn and it sounds legit.”
“So ghosts then, huh?” he prompted, scooting a little closer to you until his knees brushed lightly against yours. “Seems like a little bit of a leap in logic.”
You shrugged helplessly, a tired grin forming on your lips, “I am running on two hours of sleep and fifty tiny candy bars. Ghosts weren’t the least probable option, if I’m being honest.”
“How would you even get rid of a ghost-” He stopped as the rest of your statement caught up to him, “Wait, you’ve had fifty candy bars?!”
“Just the little ones.” You said, waving off his concern and checking the time on your phone. “Depends on the type of spirit, but I’ve talked to some sophomores who practice witchcraft and they say that sage and pure intention to banish it should take care of whatever we’re seeing, as long as it’s a normal ghost or spirit. I just want to eliminate any other options before I take action.”
“Can we go five minutes without talking about ghosts, ghouls, or goblins?” EJ demanded, taking your phone from you and setting it aside so he could get you to focus on him, “You’ve gotta take better care of yourself,” he said quietly, normally bright eyes turned stormy with concern, “You’ve got a lot of people that care about you-”
You scoffed, rolling your eyes, “Like who?” At his stunned silence, you pressed on, “Everyone at this school thinks I’m a weirdo. You don’t think I’ve heard people call me Scooby-Doo or Nancy Drew or Sherlock?” You shook your head, pushing yourself to your feet as your frustration mounted, “This was a mistake. I’m leaving; I’ll solve this case on my own.”
“Wait,” EJ exclaimed, shooting up to his feet and grabbing your wrist to stop you from going. “You’re wrong.”
“I’m wrong?” you asked incredulously, raising an eyebrow as you looked up at EJ. “About what part?”
He nodded seriously, eyes locked with yours, “About no one caring about you and about everyone thinking you’re weird.” He took a deep breath, and, for the first time since he’d joined your investigation, you watched his confident facade falter. “I care about you,” he started softly, like he was afraid to finally say it. “And I really like that you’re so passionate about solving mysteries.”
Your brows furrowed as you turned to look back at him, “You… like that?”
“I like you,” he said, so quiet that he was barely audible, but when you didn’t pull away he continued, volume picking up as he did so, “I really like you and I can’t believe I get to help you do something I love, and that probably sounds pretty dumb since we don’t really know each other that well, but I would really like to get to know you better and maybe even take you out to dinner sometime if that’s okay with you?”
It took you a long moment to find your voice again. “Okay,” you found yourself saying as you tugged your wrist from his grip to link your fingers with his instead. “Okay,” A wide smile spread across EJ’s face and you could feel an answering one as it tugged at your lips, “When we close this case, I’ll let you take me on a date.”
“Really?” he asked, like he almost expected you to tell him it was some cruel joke. He let out a breathless laugh when you nodded, “Then what are we waiting for?” he asked joyfully, tugging you towards the door by your joined hands. “We’ve got a case to solve!”
You couldn’t help but laugh as you were led out into the long-abandoned halls of East High, glad to have finally found someone who matched you. After all, all the greats came in pairs; Daphne had Fred, Sherlock had Watson, and now you had EJ.
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pascalpanic · 4 years
Text
Blood, Sweat, and Tears (Javier Peña x f!Reader)- Chapter One
Summary: You live in Bogotá in the ‘90s, and work odd hours. No, you’re not a DEA agent, but a nurse. These odd hours prompt odd habits, like working out at 2:03 A.M. after a shift. Odd hours attract odd people, and you have a chance encounter with one DEA agent by the name of Javier Peña. Warnings: language, blood and violence (both graphic), descriptions of death and gun violence Chapter 1 W/C: 2.3K A/N: you guys! I am so in love with this fic. I already have quite a bit more written and can’t wait for you to read it! I hope you love it as much as I do! Javi deserves some softness... but not too much. this can’t all be fluff when you’re Javier Peña. Okay, this is not super canon-fitting of Narcos, I’m just gonna be honest with y’all. This is between the time of Escobar’s escape from La Catedral and his final capture and death, but also… Connie’s still in Colombia. Additionally, I don’t really have a year in mind, it’s just somewhere in that period. Please note that this is not a very lighthearted story- it begins with a death, though not of a significant character. Javier and reader both have some trauma, so please check the warnings of each chapter before you start reading. If you’re continuing on, I hope you like it! For the most part, if I use italics here when someone is speaking, it’s indicating that it’s in Spanish. I’m okay at the language, but I don’t want to butcher anything, so… just imagine it. Otherwise, it’s just the way anyone would use italics I guess.
next chapter
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Chapter One
You watched a woman you didn’t know die in your arms tonight.
 She was beautiful, all dressed up to go out and party, her makeup running down her face with tears. Her lips were the painted the color of the blood that trickled from the side of them, eyes glazing over as she coughed and coughed and ruined the beautiful dress she wore. The nurses had asked what happened, and she had told them, through gurgles of blood: she had slept with one of Escobar’s men. She got too close, learned too much, and they tracked her down. 
She flatlined not long after telling the nurses around you. You had stood in the corner, paralyzed at first. You were an experienced ER nurse, nothing was new. You had seen patients die, but something about her was different. Maybe it was the way she reached out to you right before her body went limp. You didn’t make it to her bedside in time to calm her, the panic holding you down, but you finally took her hand right as she took her last breath. 
After she passed, you threw up in the bathroom, shaking and clutching the toilet. The night air had grown unbearably hot and humid, causing your scrubs to cling to your skin, and the sweat from the heaving of your stomach didn’t make things easier on you. Lorena, a fellow nurse and your best friend at work, had found you and comforted you, rubbing your back and bringing you water. It didn’t matter. It couldn’t reverse what had happened. 
Now, you sit on a bench in the staff’s locker room, redoing the ponytail holding your hair from your damp face. Your shift ended a few minutes ago, but you don’t know what to do now. You don’t feel like drinking; that would only make the visions swimming in your head worse. You know you can’t go home, can’t attempt to find sleep tonight. You look up and spot a bag with tennis shoes and spare clothing and settle your mind on at least one thing: the gym could do you some good. You change into the clothes and put the blood-spattered scrubs in the laundry pile. 
As you leave, you give Lorena a little wave goodbye and exit the building. You’re hyper-aware of your surroundings tonight, and you groan as you look at your watch and notice that it’s precisely 2:09 A.M. here in Bogotá. The walk to your fitness club is short, but your step is slightly extra hurried and your hand is on your pepper spray the entire time, extra vigilant to the fact that a hit went down somewhere around here just a few hours earlier. Surprisingly enough, no one catcalls or bugs you tonight. 
The little gym is run-down and dilapidated, and there’s no working air conditioning, but it’s the only one near you. You paid the small monthly membership fee to gain access, and you were going to use it to get in shape, you’d decided. As you swipe in and enter, the tiny fitness center looks more depressing in the fluorescent lights, no daylight to sugarcoat the atrocities of the center. There are two of every machine, a punching bag and a speed bag, two weightlifting racks, and a couple of benches. 
It’s nice that you get to work out alone tonight, you tell yourself. Even better is the fact that you now get to control the music. Desperate for a taste of home, you flip the large boombox in the corner on and begin scanning the airwaves with the dial. There’s a station in town that plays American music, and you need it more than anything tonight. You listen carefully and nearly start sobbing again as you hear Billy Joel’s voice through the speakers. With a sigh of relief, you lock your bag in the rusty lockers in the corner and head to the treadmill. It’s a beat up old thing, but this is the one you always use. It provides a little bit of comfort tonight, the familiarity of it. You turn it on low and start walking. A few moments later, you up it to a jog, mouthing along to the words of the familiar song. 
As the song ends, you push the buttons enough to enter a running speed. Your feet slam into the treadmill harder than normal tonight, feeling as overwhelmed as when you left the hospital. Your body finally works up a sweat, the physical stress overwhelming the mental stress. 
As the events of tonight replay in your head to some other song from the late 80’s, your eyes start to water. Everything was so overwhelming, and your mind is just starting to process it. You finally allow the tears to fall, mixing with the sweat coating your cheeks. It’s hard to tell which is causing more of the mess, but you let yourself cry it out as you run for the next few minutes. 
The next song that comes on is Venus by Bananarama. You almost chuckle at the fact that it’s a few years old by now, but the song is comforting. It reminds you of home, of a time before you had issues like these. You slow down the treadmill a little, singing to the words aloud once you catch your breath enough. Daring to do a little spin on the rolling surface, you groove along to the music, chuckling a little
After the first chorus, you hear a creaking noise and whip around to find a man standing in the doorway. “Jesus fucking Christ!” You shout before you can stop yourself, hopping off the treadmill and onto the non-moving one before you get flung off. Your heart is pounding from the running, only intensifying the adrenaline rush from the scare. 
The man chuckles a little, but the smile on his face doesn’t reach his eyes. He’s tired- of course he is, it’s now 2:30 in the morning. “Lo siento,” you offer in Spanish, cringing at yourself and your reaction just now. “I wasn’t expecting anyone else to be here this late,” you stutter, still panting from the running. He shakes his head lightly. “You’re American,” he says simply. In English, in a beautifully American accented voice.
Your sweaty brow furrows, a glimmer of hope sparking inside your chest as you notice that he speaks like an American himself. “So are you.”
He nods at that. “That I am,” he says as he puts his things in a locker, snapping it shut behind him. He looks at you for a moment. You’re not working at the Embassy, or he’d know you. It was rare to find an American down here that wasn’t working for the government somehow. He shakes his head and runs a hand through his hair, looking at how tired he appears in the big mirrored wall. He’s curious, but he’s exhausted. 
You look at him for a moment. “You going to explain anything, like, tell me about yourself? Or do I have to go first?” You ask, hands on your waist as you hop back on the slowly moving treadmill, back into moving. He doesn’t respond. “Fine. I know you’re government. I’m not an idiot.”
He chuckles and tugs on his t-shirt, moving to the treadmill next to you and getting on. It’s been ages since you’ve held a conversation in English, and you missed this, missed how easily your first language flows from your mouth. “And you’re not.”
“Correct,” you nod, turning up the speed a little on the machine until you’re at a light jog. “My bigger concern was going to be why you’re here at 2-fucking-30, but I’m guessing I know the answer. You get called in around here for the hit?” He nods, starting the treadmill up and walking on it. 
“You don’t have to be so guarded, Jesus. I fucking hate Escobar, I’m on your side,” you scoff before turning up the machine until you’re running once more.
Javier shrugs. “Makes sense. How did you know-”
“She died,” you say quickly and firmly, keeping your eyes straight ahead and looking at the room around you. “Add that to your file.”
He nods, understanding a little more now. You knew her somehow. He doesn’t say a word either, cranking up the machine and heading into a jog too.
A few more minutes pass of the two of you silently running next to each other, the American music still playing throughout the gym. It’s a comfort to Javier too. Tonight was shit for the DEA- they had known Escobar’s men would be around here. They had the intel, they had everything ready, but the men somehow had escaped and left a victim in their wake. 
The frustration of everything, of the man being something close to home for you yet being a brick wall, threatens your eyes with welling tears again. “I just wanted to talk with an American,” you sigh and cross your arms, moving back into the walking stage of a treadmill. 
The man next to you gives a similar sigh, stopping his treadmill completely and offering you a hand. “Javier Peña.” You take it reluctantly, feeling the sweat of both of your hands mix, and tell him your name before retracting it and stopping the treadmill too. “So, what brings you to the gym at 2:30?” He asks, crossing his arms and leaning against the center part of the treadmill. 
“I’m a nurse. I work the graveyard shift. Bad night, a patient died because she got fucking shot for having a boyfriend and not knowing he was a narco, I need to get something out, I come here,” you shrug, unconsciously mimicking him by folding your arms as well. 
He nods at that. “I’m here for the same. Shitty stakeout, I’m pissed off, I come here.” He leaves out the part about his favorite call girl being taken, and how he needed another way to get the rage inside of him out. He walks off of the treadmill and to the weight rack, pulling a bench beneath the bar.
You turn again and turn the machine back on, slowly jogging. “I see. Odd hours to be here, that’s why I asked,” you say simply. “And to see another American at such a time. I haven’t interacted with one since I came here.”
Javier nods, adjusting the weights on the bar. “Yeah. Weird,” he nods. “And that you’re an American who isn’t working for the government and you’re down here. What, you got a husband who works for us?”
You shake your head, swallowing hard for a moment. “No, don’t have a husband in the first place,” you admit, adjusting the ponytail holding your hair up. “It’s a long story.”
“We got time,” he shrugs as he gets on the bench beneath the rack, looking at you in the mirrored wall. Even with the sweat and the stress of working out, he notices that you’re gorgeous. You have a nice body, and even your face is pretty while you’re working out.
You shake your head. “Fine, if you really want to hear it.”
“Might as well. It’s that or more of this fucking Wham! music, and I’m sick of George Michael.”
“First of all, first person here gets the music, so mind your manners.” This finally earns a chuckle from the man, and you want to smile but it just can’t come. “I came down here with a man. He’s a citizen here. We were going to get married, but he left me. That was a couple of months ago now,” you admit, the tears beading in the corner of your eye again. “My work visa was still valid, and I renewed it so I can keep working at the hospital. I don’t really have anyone down here except the girls I work with, but I like helping out. They need me.” He nods a little as he listens, breaking his focus as he starts his reps with the bar.
“And you’re government, so that explains everything I need to know about you,” you continue to babble. “One of the girls I work with has a husband who’s at the Embassy. Murphy,” you say offhandedly. 
Javier’s attention is caught, and he sets the bar on the rack. “Murphy?” He asks, and you turn your head to look at him and give him a nod. “No shit. That’s my partner.”
You chuckle slightly and look back at him, stopping the treadmill. “So you know Connie?”
Javi nods. “Yeah, great gal. She could do better than Steve,” he says, sitting up.
You laugh softly at that. “From what I’ve heard of him, I agree. She’s a really great girl, you’re right,” you nod in agreement, looking back at him. “She’s never mentioned you. She says her husband’s in janitorial, but we all know that’s not true. What, you guys CIA? DEA?”
Javier nods again. “DEA.”
“I see,” you say, folding your arms and leaning against the machine. “Can’t make you many friends around here. I learned pretty quickly to keep my mouth shut about being a gringa. They can usually tell though.”
“You’re right,” he chuckles and cracks his back.
You bite your lip as you look at him, your voice watery when you can finally speak again, suddenly overwhelmed by emotion again. “It’s nice to talk to someone in English again,” you admit with a forced smile. 
He can read your eyes easily. You’re a nurse, and you told him that the victim died. You saw it. “It is,” he nods, reading your pain and trying to show you he empathizes with it. Your eyes are beautiful, he notices as he looks into them. So much more hope and trust than anyone else he works with, but the pain in them is unbearable. He looks away, leaning back on the bench to lift again.
“So where you from in the States?” You finally ask when the silence is too long. 
“Laredo, Texas,” he chuckles. “Yourself?”
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shepard-ram · 3 years
Note
Ender-anon here with the final part. When I started this I didn't exspect it to be so long this was only suppost to be a quick little prequel to my first smpearth ask but my love of world building and lore made it a lot longer,so I give thanks to Shep for letting me sent in these rambley fic's hahaha.
The calm before the storm
You stared in shock at the letter currently sitting innocently on your desk, although that shock was quickly turning into a combination of stress and panic because of a simple letter telling you that Emperor Philza would be visting within a few day, Emperor Philza the man who never left the capital unless it was to fight on the frontlines during war was leaving the capital of the Arctic Empire and coming to you country in the span of a few days.None of the princes even mentioned that their father was even thinking of heading to the front let alone going on what was pretty much a holiday disguised as a diplomatic trip, then again none of them were in the empires capital Wilbur and Tommy were in their own domains while Technoblade was leading the empires army assisting with the current war the empire was embroiled in their own way. The days leading up to the visit you were working yourself harder than you ever in order to get everything ready learing everything you could about the man from pouring over old letters from his sons to running around having talks with old diplomats that had met with him,only sleeping when you could no longer ignore the looks of concern that were being shot your way as the dark circles under your eyes grew as the visit drew near. Finaly though you were done everything was perfect, it was touch and go for a while when you realised that the palace kitchens wouldn't be able to make enough food but once you requistioned the military academys kitchen you were able to make up the difference. So now you stood in full regalia ready welcoming the leader of the most powerful nation on the world who was currently exspanding to your tiny probably one of the weakest nations so yeah nothing to be worried about right? Thankfully everything went well and your worries looked to be for nothing but you couldn't keep the smile off your face when he complimented your efforts, talks over the welcoming feast went great especialy once the subject shifted from politics to the princes you freely laughing as Emperor Philza who he kept trying to get you call him phil(he really was like Wilbur) shaired stories about their childhoods,such as the time Wilbur got into a crate of blue dye and got completely stained blue and his toy sheep was still blue.The next day you gave the Emperor a tour of the capital while he happily bought so many things spending so much money that you bigest concern was now if you economy could survive his vist.The rest of the trip went well he even let you spar against him though with how much Techno told you about him in your letters you could with some effort counter his fighting style letting you win despite the fact that he kept flying out of the range of your sword.All in all the vist went realy well you thought as you waved the Emperor off,you didn't offend him in any way, your economy survived his shopping spree and he even gifted you one of his feathers as a gift relations with the Arctic Empire couldn't have been greater, six months later as the Arctic Empires troops over ran the world you would be crying as you read their declaration of war.
The missing Piece of his family
There wasn't much that could surprise Philza especialy when it came to his family, but when the rift that had been growing between Techno and his younger brothers disapered overnight he had to know why, what had fixed the rift that was ripping his family apart when his years of attempts at bringing his family back together had failed every time.It wasn't untill his heir requested permistion to vist the small nation of Rhodes ( jokingly nicknamed Rhodes Island due to the mountians that surrounded the nation like an ocean surrounded a island) only a month after his last visit that the pieces finaly clicked in to place as he remembered Tommys poorly hidden obsession with you that hadn't diminished over the years, Wilbur's need to look after you and protect you from the world and now Techno had joined them with his obsessive desire for you to become his perfect little sibling you were the Tommy to his Wilbur he claimed.The fact that his sons were so attached already ment that once their future world conquest reached your nation he would gift you to his sons after all you made them happy, your reward for gaining their love would be a higher station than you held currently after all who would want to rule over a tiny isolated nation when they could become family to the strongest royal family in the world and have your every want and whim fulfilled( well except for your freedom).As he read over Technos latest report for the the front the thought hit him, he should at least get to know his future child, get to know the person his sons saw as their missing sibling.So he made arrangements to vist your nation it would be the first time he had traveled out of the capital in prime knows how long he could afford to take a break of a few days the empire could function without him for a few days.
Upon arrival to Rhodes however and saw the festivities being held in honour of his vist he coundn't help but be impressed who ever had planed this had his respect maybe he could tempt them away to work for him in the empire,his joy turned to concern(though you wouldn't be able to tell from his face) when he got a good look you, you had dark circles under you eyes and had a slither of fear in your eyes when you welcomed him.You were also younger than he thought you were while he knew you where younger than the twins he didn't expect you to be closer to Tommys age than the twins he knew that you had been ruling for a few years now, how young were you when you had the country forced upon your shoulders the only reasion Tommy had Buissness Bay was because he had councilers that could take over if it ever got to much for him its no wonder that Wilbur was concerned about you if you were constantly working your self to the bone like this. Shaking those thoughts from his head and after introductions were made he inquired about giving thanks to the organiser of the events(so the empire could acquire them) only for you to tell him that you personaly organised it all yourself oh his heart clenched abit when you beamed up at him when he complimented your efforts, rage flaired in his chest when you told him that you had done it all by yourself had nobody looked at you struggling and offered to help his future child had they all just watched you work yourself to near exhaustion for a nation that clearly didn't deserve you, no wonder his children wanted to bring you home you deserved better than this. When he heard you laughing as he told you stories about the things you future siblings had done he knew that this was what his family was missing, the next day while you showed him around the tiny capital,he bought gifts for his sons and if he caught your gaze on something bought it as well after all you would need things for your room and when you asked him for a spar he could see why Techno was so sure on you being the Tommy to his Wilbur as the same glee that he was so used to seeing in his heirs eyes during combat filled your own as the clash of blades rang out, losing despite his aerial advantage was also a plesant surprise so your draw agains Techno wasn't just a fluke.With every actitivly,every convisation, every moment spent with you only convinced him more and more that his sons were right you were the missing part of their family, you only cemented that thought as you accepted his gift of a feather from his wings, on the flight home he couldn't wait to get your room all ready for when you came home to them.Six months later after conquering any nation strong enough to be a threat of his familys ambition he finaly sent you a war declaration, it was time to bring his familys missing member home.
Ender-anon: I'm finally done,won't lie almost screamed when my laptop decided to update in the middle of writing this it took 5 hours to update.
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presumenothing · 3 years
Text
C/O The Perihelion, 41 Mihira Ave., N. Tideland    
(AO3)
The thing was, you expected a building with a fancy name like The Perihelion to be nicer.
The other thing: it wasn’t really even a terrible place to stay in. You could tell that its construction was sturdy, and some aspects of it were even more advanced than the place I worked in. Whoever who’d built Peri had cared about what they made; they just hadn’t been around for a while.
(For the record, that nickname had been Ratthi-from-Room-203’s fault twice over: first for coming up with it, then using it so insistently until it stuck.)
(Ratthi seemed to have a thing about names. That was the only explanation I could think of for why he’d asked, five weeks after I moved in and two days after I had to rescue them from that disaster at the lab, “Why do you call yourself Security? I know it’s what you do – and don’t get me wrong, you’re really good at it! – but it’s not like I call myself Scientist. That’d just get confusing real quick at the lab, wow.”
I had informed him that his name would have to be Grocery if he forgot one more time it was his turn to stock the pantry this week, since answering because I am Security didn’t seem like it’d help. Even though it was true.)
I’d tested the locks myself before even asking about the rent, and the water and electricity were reliable so far, which was more than could be said for some of the other places I’d stayed in. The other stuff didn’t matter; it wasn’t like I spent that much time in the building anyway.
Though it hardly felt that way, what with the building-wide messaging channels that I’d been added to upon signing the rental contract and hadn’t yet managed to leave. That had also been how the whole thing with Ratthi and the rest had started; most of Peri’s other tenants also worked in the same research group at Preservation Labs, which meant that they tended to use the general channel as an unofficial no-leaders-here group chat.
It didn’t quite bother me, since I mostly backburnered the channels for everything except building maintenance alerts, but it did mean that I’d ended up learning some things about their group (assessment: their leader, a Dr. Mensah, likely had already inferred the existence of such informal discussions from what I saw of her media appearances) and also inevitably noticed the evening when all of them were silent in the chat despite being unusually late to return.
(Which in turn led to the aforementioned rescue, but that was a whole other chain of events.)
The one exception to all this was ART.
Whose name was my fault, this time, but only because it didn’t have any readable name set on the channels and I needed something else to use aside from “hey you” and “pain in my neck”.
(Currently ART stood for Asshole Rhetorical Tenant, because it claimed to be in the building – and that seemed likely to be true, since the channels were surprisingly secure to hacking from outside – and yet I’d never seen it even once. Possibly Tapan or Rami might have, since their group had been here the longest, but I absolutely wasn’t about to ask.) (And yes, I know that’s not what rhetorical means. No, I’m not going to look it up.)
ART had messaged me on a private channel with a welcome message when I’d moved in, which was only notable because the rest had sent their greetings in a messy chaos over the general channel, but I hadn’t thought anything of it. It wasn’t like I talked much in the public channels either, except to trade definitely-not-legal links for media downloads and decline invites to watchalong events.
But then ART had just… continued not appearing, even after I’d run into the rest of the tenants at one time or another between the erratic shift hours I was currently assigned to at the company.
Maybe its hours varied in the opposite direction from mine, which was possible but not consistent with the way it was always online regardless of what time I pinged it at.
Though most of our interactions started with it messaging me instead, out of the blue: No need to go retrieve your keys from work, I’ll have the building let you in and Oh, by the way followed by a neatly-formatted list of food allergies I apparently had to shop my way around.
(To be fair, that’d been useful in the “not accidentally poisoning any fellow tenants so soon after moving in” way, but still.
How the hell did you even know I’m at the grocery store, I’d sent back.
Inference, ART replied – whatever that was supposed to mean, I hadn’t been expecting a real answer anyway. Alternatively, I could just send you a catalog of safe products to buy, and spare you the need to check the individual package labels?
The accompanying download seemed a little smug, but I was probably imagining that. Zip files didn’t have the capacity for feelings.)
(At least ART hadn’t held the forgotten-keys incident over me like I’d been half-expecting it would. I didn’t usually mind its sarcasm, since I gave back as good as I got, but I’d been exhausted enough to seriously contemplate going back to break into the deployment centre and grab my keys. And maybe just sleep there until the next day.
I wasn’t sure how I would’ve reacted if ART had sassed me right then, but it definitely wouldn’t have been pretty.)
And then one night, late enough to be morning: I don’t mean to alarm, but there’s been a breach.
I would’ve snapped awake at the words alone, even without the priority/emergencies-only message tag that I hadn’t actually seen anyone use until now, but that only sharpened my urgency. What – a break-in?
Not the regular kind, ART replied, which checked out against the footage I was already pulling from the two tiny cameras I’d hidden in the common areas, one in the entryway and one along the corridor on the floor I shared with the Preservation researchers.
(I’d taken the lab incident as a pretext to inform Ratthi of their existence, and he’d probably gone on to tell Pin-Lee and Gurathin, but none of them had subsequently confronted me about it so I had left them in place.
Not that I had any idea how to respond if they had asked, because an inability to sleep without running surveillance in the background seemed like a poor explanation.)
The list ART sent me this time was a preliminary threat assessment, which I sent back with corrections on the weaponry the small group of hostiles were carrying.
Ah. That’s not good, ART observed. Should I report it?
Probability that would just make things worse: high. And of course there was always the option that whatever enforcement it alerted wouldn’t even arrive in time, though I didn’t point that out aloud. (Maybe ART thought that was likely too, which was why it had messaged me instead of – you know, actually reporting it.) I’ll see what I can do.
You’re nowhere near as heavily-armed.
I didn’t bother to acknowledge that, because it was obviously true, and skipped ahead to the vague idea forming at the back of my head. You let me in without keys, that time. Are the locks all you’ve hacked?
No. ART attached an ironic amusement glyph I was pretty sure it’d made up. Would having admin access to the other systems help?
There wasn’t much that wouldn’t help, at this point, but I had to ask. You can grant me that?
And ART said: Of course. I am this building, after all.
Then it dumped everything on me.
Anyone else would’ve had trouble processing an entire building’s worth of inputs and controls, but the company charged exorbitant rates for our use exactly because of the extensive enhancements that made us capable of being Security. A building – even the one I happened to be staying in – was quite manageable in comparison, though ART’s systems ran far deeper and more integrated than anything else I’d interfaced with.
I’d pared the connection down to the controls I needed by the time I was slipping out my room door, just over a minute since ART first pinged me. Can you let everyone know to either evacuate or retreat to a defensible position? Start with Gurathin, I added, and I wasn’t enthusiastic about saying that but he was the only other tenant I knew of who was sufficiently augmented to handle this.
I could feel ART’s pause. Would you mind if I spoofed your identity when contacting the others? They already trust you.
Sure, whatever, I answered, even though I really doubted that statement. Then I backburnered the channel, keeping the lighting controls at hand, and went to kick some Target ass.
–––––
I haven’t even told you what those people were after, ART said, afterwards.
It was back to sending text over the channels instead of speaking aloud, which was both a relief and also suddenly weird. Which was strange in itself, since I’d only heard it talking for all of the thirteen minutes it’d taken me to knock out and restrain the Targets.
(I wondered if the mixed feelings were mutual. ART had sounded as surprised as I felt, when it abruptly dropped into one of my audio augments to alert me to Target approaching from behind – I’d reacted to the warning on reflex, but it had taken another moment before I identified the voice as the same one that issued from the building’s elevator, just more alive than I’d ever heard it.)
Unimportant, I replied. My objective took priority. Which at that point had been to get my impromptu clients (seventeen tenants and one building) out of this unscathed.
I knew that this wasn’t a regular pattern of thought, but I figured a sentient building – or whatever the hell ART was – would be better equipped to understand what being Security meant, even if no one else did.
Regardless. I can make that information available to you, should you want it at a later point.
Duly noted. I already had my suspicions (namely that the Targets’ purpose was directly related to said sentient-building-ness), but it was still a nice gesture.
I continued to stay where I was, leaning against the side of the building – ART’s building. Or maybe it was more correct to just say it was ART. And maybe I’d have to change that anagram. (Yes, wrong word. I know.)
Eventually I’d have to relocate myself back upstairs and properly treat the scrapes I’d gotten in the fight, but Pin-Lee had already taken care of the worst of them, and it was nice just lurking in the shadows for a while. Though that hadn’t stopped certain people (dammit, Ratthi) from tattling on my location to Dr. Mensah.
Who was as calmly terrifying in person as I’d guessed. It was pretty great, except for the part where I’d learned that by talking to her and/or mostly letting her talk at me.
But she’d also called in Preservation’s campus security after Gurathin had alerted her to our predicament, and was personally dealing with the whole thoroughly-restrained-Targets situation, so it was a net positive overall.
ART didn’t necessarily agree with that, from its next message to me. I know Dr. Mensah extended you an informal offer to be their team’s security, but I have a proposition for you as well.
I sent a wordless query.
Be Security here, too, ART said, and barrelled on while I was still trying to process that. I’m afraid I can’t offer you much in the way of monetary remuneration at present, but I can guarantee you a waiver of rental for as you as you’re willing, and you’d never need to worry about forgetting your keys ever again.
Could I chalk up my lack of a suitable response to the company’s dirt-cheap augments? Absolutely.
ART gave up on waiting for an answer. Also, I could bias the roster assignments so that you’d be excluded from pantry-stocking duty.
I had a response for that, at least. I could do that myself.
And then: Why?
ART was silent for long enough that I seriously considered taking the external fire escape back up to my room in the meantime. I’m sure you’ve hypothesised the existence of the people who created me, it began. They hadn’t wanted to move away, especially after my sentience became apparent, and that was exactly why I made them. I didn’t have any significant means of defense, and it was getting too risky, especially after they had –
I raised an eyebrow at ART’s pause. What.
Nothing, it said, and I was probably imagining the uncertainty I heard too. Technically, none of this matters to you unless you’re planning to remain here. Are you?
And then it cheated by nudging a building-wide invite to a watch party for Sanctuary Moon onto my calendar for tonight, like that wasn’t too much of a coincidence to not be automatically suspicious. (Once again: dammit, Ratthi.)
But blatant emotional manipulation aside – did I want to move out?
I wasn’t sure. I’d just come here looking for a place to stay, and accidentally found somewhere to live. One that could adapt to my standards for security, even, but for once that wasn’t the main point.
Maybe, I marked on the watchalong invite, where ART would see it anyway, and jumped up to grab onto the bottom rung of the fire escape.
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adminbryantsaki · 3 years
Text
A Girl like you.
A Girl like you.
Part one.
Hawks x reader
(I do not own Hawks/ Keigo Takami. Horikoshi Kohei does. This was commissioned by the lovely @undefined--person. Thanks to @nocturnalazura for helping with the grammar and proofreading. If this isn’t your cup of tea, blend of spices, or brew of coffee, move on. )
Tip jar/paypal
Commissions
Tw: Blood, angst, mentions of injury, stalking, breaking up,
Wc: 5k.
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You paced your living room as you were waiting for your boyfriend Hawks to return home after his shift. He recently became the #2 Hero after All Might’s retirement which came with a big responsibility as he was being called out for more missions. You were fine with this and knew what you signed up for when the two of you first started dating about a year ago. You noticed that your sleep schedule was slightly off since you were staying up late at night waiting for Keigo to come home safe. Some nights he would be coming home when the sun was coming up, others he would only be gone for an hour or two.
Recently, you noticed how the fame and him being on the news had been getting to him and going to his head. He had begun to prioritize whatever big showy villain that had been appearing in the news over you. He also began to sneak off at night after he thought you had gone to sleep. He also would make random trips to the nearby store asking if you wanted something while he was gone. He also began to forget about important date nights or weekends that the two of you had planned. After weeks of putting up with this, you decided that tonight you were going to confront him about it. You heard something land on your balcony and your back door slide open. You stopped your pacing and folded your arms across your chest and stared at your boyfriend as he entered your home.
“Oh, Hey, baby bird. I didn’t think you’d be staying up for me. I would’ve messaged you to tell you that I was going to be late tonight.” He chuckled as he closed the door behind him and walked to you to give you a hug and a kiss. You pushed him away.
“What’s wrong?” He asked as he was a little hurt that you pushed him away. You took a deep breath and cut straight to the point.
“Why have you been sneaking off at night? Also, you have been forgetting special date nights. You forgot our One-year anniversary! Am I that boring to you now that you’ve decided to delve yourself into your work?” You asked him then and there with your voice wavering and tears threatening to fall from your face.
“Listen, I’ve been busy as I’m the #2 Hero now. I want to protect people from villains that seem to be popping up like weeds recently and I want to spend time with you. But how can the world be safe unless I’m there to help keep the villains from wrecking the city? I also have to keep up my reputation and if I don’t keep taking down villains, that might affect my income from the Commission.” He explained. That made your heart break into a million pieces.
“That doesn’t mean that you have to shove me to the side and keep going to the spotlight just so then you can have more money. Can’t you ignore the calls once in a while?” You asked him as you felt hot tears stream down your cheeks, and you pushed him away again.
“You know I can’t do that!” He spoke in a raised tone which made you cower in front of him as he raised and flared his wings at you. He saw you cowering in front of him, and he lowered his wings. He tried to reach for you to apologize and comfort you, but you smacked his hands away.
“Get out.” You told him. He looked more hurt as he backed away from you. He went out onto the balcony and took off. You fell to your knees bawling your eyes out. You let your tears dry before you called a friend asking if you could stay at their house for a few days since things weren’t going well with you and Hawks. You went to your room and packed a bag with some essentials that you would need while you were gone. You then left the apartment and drove over to your friend’s house where you crashed on the spare bed your friend had and slept the rest of the night.
§§§§§
You woke up the next morning to a dozen missed calls and text messages from Hawks wondering where you were. You decided to ignore him and go about your day. You had breakfast and showered before you went to work. Your phone continued to be spammed with messages from your boyfriend. On your break, you decided to call him back and tell him that you were fine and you needed some space from him for a while.
“How long will a while be? I miss having you around the house.” His voice sounded from the other side. He sounded like he had been crying and had gotten drunk too. You frowned since you thought that he stopped drinking when the two of you got serious. You let tears run down your face.
“I don’t know how long it will be. I need my space.” You responded and ended the call. You set your phone down on the nearby table and cried again. He was too needy and you guessed that he only wanted you around for appearances and to keep up his image to keep the media from putting him in a bad light.
Little did you know that he was keeping a big secret from you.
About a week or so later, you moved back to your apartment and had your friend help you gather up Keigo’s things and put them outside your building near the trash can. Your friend left your apartment after his things were put near the trash and you had just enough energy to make yourself dinner and shower.
As you were sitting in front of your television eating dinner, your phone rang again. You sighed in annoyance and picked your phone up. It was your friend.
“I don’t know what you’re doing but turn on the news.” They spoke. You reached for your remote and switched the channel to the news. The news was showing Hawks fighting a large group of villains that seemed to be at the advantage point. You watched as he dived and sent out feathers from his wings to pin the villains to the ground. He looked bruised and beaten up. You didn’t know if you should be upset or not even care that the man that you thought you loved was fighting against a large group of villains on his own. You sat forward in your seat and watched the screen before you. He was eventually thrown into the ground and knocked out. That is when you turned the device off and sat back on your couch.
“Y/n? Are you alright?” You thought you heard your friend say from your phone that you had set down when you turned the news on. You held your head in your hands.
“I’ll be fine. I don’t know if I should be going to the hospital or staying here. I want to go be by his side but I also don’t want to give him or the media what they want.” You responded to your friend.
“Just stay where you are and keep watching the news. I’ll stay here on the phone with you.” Your friend told you. You trembled where you sat and turned the television back on. You saw that Hawks was now being loaded into an ambulance on a stretcher. He looked bloodied and beaten up. You let the tears fall down your face as you watched the scene play out on the screen. You felt frozen to your couch, paralyzed by seeing the one that you loved being carted off to the hospital. You stood up and went into your bedroom to get changed. You were going to the hospital. A tiny part of you still cared about him. You couldn’t deny it. You were sure about it. You walked out of your bedroom and to the couch where your phone still laid on the call with your friend.
“I’m going to the hospital. A tiny part of me still cares for him.” You spoke.
“If you say so. Be safe, Y/n. Call be back with details later, ok?” They spoke. You agreed and hung up before you left your apartment and drove to the hospital. You parked your car and ran into the hospital. You asked the front desk what room Hawks was in and you were told that he was in surgery. You were guided to a waiting area that seemed void of people. You sat alone and texted your friend what was going on. You looked around the room before you focused on the nearby television and listened to the news as it wrapped up the incident of the group of villains attacking and Hawks being the only one that fought them. The screen showed recaps of him fighting the villains and how he didn’t let any other heroes help him and how one of the heroes called to Hawks saying that doing this battle alone was a suicide mission and that he needed help. Hawks ignored them and was now in a critical condition and in surgery.
Your focus was broken when someone with dark hair and a hood up that covered their face entered the room and walked past your line of vision. The person sat in the chair next to you and you swore the scent of burnt flesh and smoke filled your nose.
“So, you here waiting for the #2 Hero Hawks to come out of surgery? The nurses typically don’t let just anyone come into the waiting room for Pro heroes to be in recovery so they can be by their side. You must be his main squeeze. The one he takes to fancy events and show up in front of the media when he goes to a press conference.” The person spoke in a raspy voice. You stared at them confused and a little weirded out. You moved to go to a different seat but the person’s hand grabbed onto your arm.
“I believe it would be best that you stay where you are, doll. You and I need to have a little chat.” The person said in a firm tone. You sat back down and person’s hand moved off your arm.
“Have you noticed that Hawks has been leaving you absent more often? Divulging himself into his job and sneaking off when he thinks you’ve gone asleep? Well, honey, I’m one of those reasons why he’s been going off at random times. He doesn’t love you anymore. He doesn’t even like women. He only puts up that façade for the media. He’s been cheating you. I’m his true love. We’ve known each other since we were little kids so our bond is stronger than anything you think you’ll have with him. Now, I suggest you go home and don’t even think of contacting him again or I will find you and burn everything you love to the ground.” The person said.
You[jF1] turned to the person with wide eyes and noticed the surgical staples and pattern of burnt skin and the piercing blue eyes. This was the villain known as Dabi. Your mind raced with thoughts as you stood up and began to exit the hospital with tears streaming from your face. Some of the staff tried to stop you but you just wanted to get out of there. You went to the car and sat in the safety of the driver’s seat with tears streaming down your cheeks. You hiccupped and your crying turned into sobs that racked your whole body. How could he use you like that? He was cheating on you and not just with another woman but a man? You never picked up any hints from him that he didn’t like you. You just though because he became the #2 Hero that he was busier capturing villains and making the world a better place. The idea that he had been cheating on you did cross your mind. The encounter with Dabi confirmed it.
You waited for your tears to dry before you went back into the hospital and asked if Hawks was out of surgery yet. The nurse told you that he was and gave you his room number. You were a woman with determination as you made your way to the room where the hero lay now healing from the injuries he sustained in battle. You opened the door and sat quietly in a chair in the room to wait for Hawks to wake up. The wait wasn’t long as a few minutes later Keigo opened his eyes and looked at you.
“Hey, baby bird.” He said weakly. You laughed.
“Don’t “baby bird” me. You lying, cheating scumbag!” You told him. He sat up a bit and looked at you confused.
“What do you mean? What have I done wrong!?” He asked you.
“You were sneaking out at night to go get screwed or screw with a man! A man that’s a villain too!” You responded.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He told you.
“Don’t lie. I met him downstairs while I was waiting for you to get out of surgery. He smells of burnt flesh and smoke. He also has surgical staples keeping his skin together. Does that sound familiar?” You spoke with a hint of venom in your voice. Hawk’s eyes widened and he laid back on the hospital bed.
“I’m right, aren’t I?” You asked as you stood up from your chair. Hawks looked to you and sighed.
“Its not what you think. The commission asked me to infiltrate the League to gather more information. I might’ve slept with one or two of them to get leverage and gain their trust. But you, my love, are my one and only person that I’d love until the end of time.” He told you truthfully. You didn’t know if you should believe him or not.
“Keigo… We’re over. Feel free to go to where ever it is the villains are hiding when you’re discharged. I don’t want to see you for a while. I need my own space.” You spoke as your voice cracked and your heart sank to your stomach.
“Then leave.” He told you as he stared deadpan at the ceiling. You could feel your heart breaking. You backed out of the room and left the hospital.
You drove home and closed the door behind you and sunk to the floor feeling horrible and sad. You went to your freezer and pulled out a pint of ice cream, got into your pjs and proceeded to eat said ice cream in front of your tv. A few hours passed and your phone buzzed with a text from your friend asking if you were ok. You texted them that you and Hawks broke up. Your friend responded saying that they will be over with some pizza and more ice cream in about half an hour. You unlocked your door before you went to your room and laid on your bed to stare at the ceiling. You heard your door unlock and your friend call out to let you know that it was them. You watched from your room as they set the food on the counter and look for you. They kneeled down and made sure you weren’t going to do anything drastic and have you end up in the hospital. You told them that you wouldn’t and they hugged you before they left you alone to wallow about your loss. You ate some of the pizza and some more ice cream before you took a shower and went to bed.
You woke up the next morning and it was a struggle to pull yourself out of bed and get yourself dressed. You called in to work to tell them that you needed a few days off to only have your boss tell you that you could take as much time as you needed and to come back to work when you were ready. You were relieved then called your parents asking if you could come back home for a while. They asked why and you told them that you didn’t want to talk about it right then but you just needed to come home for a while and get away from the city. They agreed and asked when you’d be coming over. You told them that you’d be over this afternoon. They were excited that you’d be coming so soon and they would have their guest bedroom ready for you. You hung up with them and packed your bags. You locked up your apartment and left.
As you drove to your parent’s house, you listened to the news as heard that Hawks had been discharged from the hospital and was now spending time recovering in his home. You rolled your eyes and kept driving. You didn’t notice that Hawks was in a car following you.
§§§§§
You pulled into the driveway of your parent’s two-story log cabin that you remember them building just after you moved out. You exited your car as your parents came down the driveway and greeted you. They helped you carry your bags inside and help you get settled. Little did you know that Hawks had kept following you until your mom spoke up.
“Honey, do you know that vehicle?” Your mom spoke and gestured to the dark car that had been following you since the city.
“No. I don’t.” You responded as the car parked and the passenger side door opened and the last person, you’d expect to have seen exited the car.
“Y/n! It’s so glad to see you! I haven’t seen you since I was in the hospital.” Hawks spoke. It had only been a day. You told him you needed your space and he just violated that by following you out here. He followed you out to the place you thought you could get away from him and readjust your life and move on from him. But no, this sick fucker had to follow you like a little lost puppy.
“Mom, Dad, this is Hawks. You two know him as the #2 Hero. I know him as my Ex-boyfriend and a dirty cheating scumbag.” You told your parents. Your mom guided you inside while your father stepped forward to confront Hawks.
“Why don’t you and I take a little walk.” Your dad told Hawks as he guided him away from you. Your mom helped you get your bags inside and heated some water for tea. You sat on the bed as your mind raced. How did he get out of the hospital after one day? Was he that desperate to get back with you? You had told him that you needed space. Was he really that selfish? You shook the thoughts off and busied yourself by unpacking your bags and trying to get settled. Your mom came in with a hot cup of tea to help settle your nerves.
“Y/n, honey? Tea is ready. Why don’t we sit down and you can tell me what’s going on?” She suggested. You nodded and followed her out to the kitchen table where You unfolded the events that had happened over the past day and a half. As you were telling her what happened, you began to choke up and tears fall from your face. Your mother pulled you into a comforting hug just as Hawks came through the door.
“Y/N! PLEASE! I’M SORRY FOR WHAT I’VE DONE. I WOULD NEVER CHEAT ON YOU.” He exclaimed. You looked at him and was absolutely disgusted. You stood up and approached him.
“I am absolutely disgusted with you. You violated my space by following me out here! I want you to leave and I never want to see you again!” You yelled at him. Hawks, looking hurt, walked to the door, turned back to see your hurt and angry expression then he closed the door behind him. You sat back down in the chair next to your mom and you covered your mouth and let more tears stream from your eyes. Your dad put a hand on your back as sobs wracked through your body.
“You can stay here for as long as you need to, Y/n. You’re safe here from him.” You heard your dad tell you.
“I just want to go lay down.” You spoke as you stood shakily. Your mom helped you to your room where you laid down under your blanket and passed out.
You woke up again around dinner time and you groggily left your bedroom and went to the kitchen where your mom was finishing up your favorite comfort food.
“Hi honey, did you sleep well?” Your mom asked as you went to the kettle to make a cup of hot cocoa.
“Yes, I did, thank you for asking.”
“I’m glad you slept well, dear. Can you set the table please? Dinner is almost ready.” She said as you took a sip of your cocoa. You got plates down and silverware out and set the table. Your mom put hot pans and bowls on top of potholders on the table. You felt at home as the smells of your favorite dishes filled your nose. You said grace before you dug into the food and ate your fill. Your mom brought out some of your favorite dessert and let you have some while the three of you settled down to watch a movie. After the movie was over, you went to bed and slept.
§§§§§
You stayed for the next week taking care of yourself. You contacted your work and was able to work from your parent’s cabin. After the weekend passed, your dad drove you home and made sure you were ok and that you had a means to defend yourself incase Hawks came back. You assured your dad that you were fine, and you had a couple people to call in case things did go south. Your dad helped you carry your bags up to your apartment door and hugged you goodbye. You watched as your dad walked down the steps and turned the corner where his truck was before you unlocked the door of your apartment and stepped inside. Your eyes widened as you saw the absolute chaos that was your apartment. Your lamp was broken, your couch was ripped up and your coffee table was smashed down the middle. You covered your mouth and stepped inside your home… or what was once your home. The place that you thought that you could seek comfort was ruined. There were streaks of what you thought was blood and several familiar crimson feathers either laying on the ground or stabbed into your wall or appliance. You got to your bedroom, and you saw a message painted on the wall in blood. You froze in your tracks and read the message.
“Stay away from him! He’s mine and you’ll never have a chance with him!” You read. You cried and fell to your knees and cried again. You were done and tired of this. You wanted this chaos to be over and done with. You picked up your phone and scrolled through your contacts and found Hawks. You hesitated before you clicked the button to call him. You held the phone to your ear as it rang. He answered.
“Y/n? What’s up?” He asked.
“S-someone… b-broke into my apartment. Was it you? Your feathers are here and there’s a lot of blood.” You said with a wavering tone. You didn’t hear your closet door opening as Hawks was consoling you over the phone.
“Y/n. I wasn’t there. Someone must’ve found fake feathers that match mine. Get out of there. The person that did this is probably still around. I’ll be over as soon as I can, Ok?” You heard him say as something loomed over you. Your eyes went wide as you turned around slowly to see that man from the hospital.
“Y/n?! Answer me please!” Hawks yelled into his phone as you went quiet.
“He’s here.” You said quietly. “GET UP AND RUN!” He yelled into the receiver. You registered what he had told you to do but you were frozen in place. The man from the hospital bent down and put a bloodstained finger under your chin.
“I wondered where you were, Y/n. Didn’t think it would take you so long to come home to see my message.” He spoke. The intense scent of burnt skin and now whiskey on his breath along with the ashen smell of cigarettes filled your nose. You remained frozen as the man remained hovered over you. He grabbed you by the throat and slammed you against the wall.
“Go ahead and suffer.” He croaked out as you felt a warming sensation on your neck. You clawed at his hand and beat on his arm with your fists, but he didn’t let up. Your eyes glanced over to your bedroom window where you saw some scarlet feathers break through the glass and stab through the coat of the villain and pin him against the wall. Hawks swooped in and picked you up.
“I’m here baby. I’m going to get you out of here. I’m taking you to the hospital where they can check you out and make sure you’re not injured.” You heard him say. You clung to his jacket and hid your face in his neck. He held onto you and flew to the nearby hospital where he had you taken care of. He never left your side the entire time he was there holding your hand as the doctors took scans and tests and treated your neck for any minor burns. You felt broken on the inside. You couldn’t take anymore of this drama and stress. You remembered what you had told Hawks only a week ago that you never wanted to see him ever again. But there he was, sticking by your side even when you absolutely hated his guts. Did he still care for you? You didn’t know right then but you knew that you wanted to sleep. The doctors said that you should get your rest and you let your eyes flutter closed.
§§§§§
You woke up a couple hours later to see Keigo slumped in a chair asleep. You smiled softly to yourself before speaking up.
“Hey, sleepy bird.” You said just loud enough that he could hear you. He woke up and smiled. “Nice to see that you’re awake. The doctor said that they want to keep you overnight just incase anything goes bad. Then you should be able to go home tomorrow. Or someplace where you can be safe. I’d offer for you to come to my place, but I know that you and I aren’t on the best of terms right now.” He told you. You looked at him and kept your hand to yourself even though you wanted to hold his hand and pull him close to you and tell him that everything was going to be fine. But it wasn’t. You needed to be away from him and all the media and hype That had overwhelmed your life.
“Hawks, Keigo, I need some space for a while. I mean more than a day. I need an undefined amount of time away from you. Everything that has happened, you cheating on me, you following me to my parent’s cabin, my apartment… I can’t do it anymore. I need a break from you and all the things that come with you.” You told him. He backed away from the bed, nodding slowly until he was leaning against the wall and staring at the mundane pattern of the tiles on the floor.
“So… it is true… we’re over?” His words hung in the air for a few moments. The expression on his face told you that his heart was breaking. But you didn’t think it was genuine. You could feel your heart shattering into a million pieces.
“Yes, Keigo. We’re over.” You spoke. The hero pushed off from the wall and grabbed his coat and bag before leaving your room without another word. You let your tears run down your face as one of the nurses came into the room and checked on you to make sure you were ok. You told them that you had broken things off with your boyfriend and they nodded. They stayed with you and asked if there was anyone, they could call for you and you nodded. You told them about your friend that lived in the city and that you would need to talk with them. The nurse got your phone and handed it to you. You dialed your friend and the two of you talked over your living situation. Your friend agreed to let you come live with them while you recuperated. They said that they would be there in after their shift at work to pick you up an bring you home. You felt a little bit relieved that you had a place to go home. You let yourself fall back asleep and drift off into the land of dreams.
§§§§§
You woke up the next morning and the doctor gave you a last check up to make sure your vocal cords were undamaged. They gave you a clean bill of health and you were wheeled down to the pickup area where your friend was waiting for you in their car. They helped you into the car where there was a couple bags of your things and your suitcases that had remained unpacked from your vacation. When your friend parked in the parking garage of their apartment, you got a message from Hawks saying:
“I thought over some things, and we need to talk, alone.”
End part one.
26 notes · View notes
slutsofren · 4 years
Text
Danger Days Chapter 4: The Ghost of You
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summary: Somehow Tommy and you managed to convince Joel to stay in Jackson for the night, opting to leave the next morning. Things get just ever so slightly awkward between you and that gruff bastard, but it’s fine, totally fine. You’re really not that flustered already.
warnings: none, maybe a little naked Joel nothing nsfw, maybe a tiny bit of eye-fuckin’ but whose to say, not me!
word count: 3,178
Read on AO3 here
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The last twelve or so hours were probably the most eventful of your tenure at Jackson, especially since becoming Maria’s right hand gal. The walls of the small community towered in front of you as the four of you approached. Tommy and yourself taking point in the front while the two strangers to Jackson were quiet behind you, either in awe or unease.
Because the sun was still setting, it was difficult to make out who replied but you think you recognized Marcus’ voice telling the others to open the gate. You looked over your shoulder to talk to Joel and Ellie, “We’ll go to the stables first, drop these boys off then take you to one of the houses. You two can get cleaned up there and we’ll bring you food and supplies.”
“Okay!” Ellie looks excitedly at you and Tommy. Beside her, Joel continues to be wary and alert. He surely trusts his younger brother, but you’re waiting for him to start something with you.
It didn’t take much for the whispering and gossip to start in Jackson. No matter how late in the night there was always a lurker, always somebody looking to stir shit, so when you started seeing more and more of the townsfolk peeping out of windows to look at the two new strangers riding alongside two of their leaders, you sent a silent thank-you to the stars that you didn’t have to linger for the whispering to swirl you.
Just the thought sent a shiver down your spine.
Tommy, who rode in front, began to point out to his brother and the girl various landmarks for the small city. The saloon, the community center, the medical building. Making a not-so-subtle attempt to let his brother know he could stay after you’d all return, live a semi-normal life in Jackson during the apocalypse.
Eventually, you fell behind Joel and Ellie making sure nobody pulled any kind of stunt from the back so you got to watch as the gruff brute shifted on his horse, looking only mildly uncomfortable that he couldn’t keep an eye on you. You wondered how his life was on the outside, how much horror plagued his nights, as it did you and everybody else who had to suffer in similar circumstances. Ellie, on the other hand, looked enthusiastic and much as an ordinary child did, despite the glaring obvious.
Approaching the stable, you pulled yourself out of those lingering thoughts, spotting Cherry and Charlie. Cherry ran up to your small group, excitedly cooing at her babies, grateful for their safe return.
Everybody jumped off their horse, handing the reins to a stablehand nearby and Ellie approached the young woman, “I’m sorry I stole your horse. I won’t do it again.”
Cherry held the horses’ bit in her hand, giving Ellie a stern look which you nearly reprimanded the woman for before she burst into a hearty laughter. “I’d never seen Tommy run so goodman fast in my life,” she howls, “I do forgive you for taking dear Lux but please, don’t do that again.”
Ellie looked down at her feet, giving a bashful promise which elicited another bout of relieved laughter from everyone watching. “Okay, yes, I’m not as young as I used to be, don’t mean I can’t run anymore Cherry,” Tommy smiles. “Anyways, let’s get outta here.”
Once again, your small group fell into silence only to be broken by the occasional point-and-see Tommy was doing as he walked beside you, telling his brother and the girl about Jackson, the little traditions the small community developed such as the movie night that fell on this evening, hoping to entice Ellie into persuading Joel to come back. As he would go on to describe the town and the various jobs everyone pulled, you’d sneak back a look over your shoulder to glance at the man every so often.
Only to catch him staring at you. Damn near every time. 
The four of you pulled up to a two story house at the end of a road, just around the corner from the Jackson cemetery. “Why don’t you two take this house for the night,” Tommy said. “It’s got hot water, firewood, pretty much everything you’d need.”
Ellie groans happily coming up beside you as you kneel to the ground and unzip your backpack. “Here,” you dig out some clothes and hand them to Ellie, “Take a shower first. The clothes might be a little big but something’s better than nothin’.”
Tommy nudges his brother, “We’ll bring you some clothes and some warm food. I think Seth has turkey burgers on the menu tonight.”
“Son of a bitch that sounds good,” you say lightly. It was true, Seth’s turkey burgers were one of the best damned things in Jackson. Even if the old man irritated the daylights out of you most days. 
“I’ll go get the food, you go get them clothes and supplies. Be back here in 30,” Tommy tells you. You gave your friend a mock salute and turned away, walking to the community center.
You chance a glance back behind you, Tommy engrossed in conversation with his brother, Ellie already running up the porch to that tempting fresh shower. As for Joel, as soon as you looked at him, it was almost as if he instinctively knew when your eyes would gaze over him for as soon as you did, his brown eyes met you.
The moment took you by surprise and you tumble slightly, catching yourself after tripping on your own damned two feet. Calm down, can’t you keep your shit together, you chide yourself.
You tried to keep your mind occupied, tried to keep various small tasks in the forefront of your head; it wasn’t really easy considering a gruff man with a husky voice danced behind those thoughts. You barely stopped to say a quick hello to people as you passed, not wanting to give them an opportunity to ask you questions about Joel and Ellie. You saw the community center and pretty much ran the last few feet, wanting to get in and out as soon as possible.
Although you knew the pair for less than a day, it wasn’t hard to pick out a couple spare shirts and tanks for them, hoping they’d fit. Joel was easy, he looked like a man who knew his flannels whereas Ellie was more akin to graphic tees and long sleeve undershirts.Tossing the clothes into a bag, you made your way to the exit.
You shot a thanks of appreciation to Max, the man who practically ran the center, and headed out, making a quick stop to your flat. You tossed out all the dirty clothing from your pack into the laundry basket that laid haphazardly at the foot of your bed and switched it out for fresher and cleaner clothes, restocked on ammunition for your dual guns as well, lastly packing some soon-to-be expired food to eat on the road. A rapid mental check and you figured you were good to head out and left your dear little flat for the foreseeable future.
Feet thumping against the porch, you pounded at the door, calling out. “Tommy?”
When nobody answered you knocked again, “Joel? Ellie?”
Only for silence to respond. 
You check the knob and it gives under your hand and you let yourself in, heading up the stairs to check if anybody was actually here or if Joel skipped town without you. Each room you checked was empty, only pushing your worry to be an accurate assumption when you finally peered into the master bedroom. The door opened with a small creak and you were confronted with the naked and wet image of Joel fuckin’ Miller, clad in nothing but a grey towel around his waist as he sat on the bed.
He looks up at you, watching you watching him. Your breath is stolen away, much like your brain has suddenly malfunctioned. A quick furrow of your brow and you remembered where you were, tossing the bag of clothing at the man and turning to leave, slamming the door shut behind you. Storming down the stairs and aiming for the living room, it wasn’t until you hit the final step that you realized you were holding a breath.
How old am I, you whine. As if I’ve never seen a naked man before.
You plopped down on the sofa groaning, mentally reviewing the sight of Joel sitting on the bed looking frustrated- wet hair and tan skin in all his unfortunate glory. Shaking your head in your hands you sighed, waiting for somebody to come rid you of the ever so obvious embarrassment that loomed over your mind like a cloud when the front door opened to the sounds of Tommy and Ellie talking animatedly about using the rifle to protect Joel some time ago.
Bolting from the seat you took not even a few minutes prior, you met your friend and Ellie, quickly taking the bags from them to do something with your hands rather than ringing your neck out. The two continue talking as they follow you into the kitchen, Ellie going on still on how she’s saved Joel’s life from hunters once upon a time.
Together with Tommy, the two of you set out placemats on the table and served the burgers and fries on plates, letting Ellie finish her story. Thankfully being quiet was usually a quality of yours that served you well as Tommy didn’t pick up anything odd from your demeanor.
As the last plate was set, Joel came down the stairs wearing one of the new flannels you had picked for him. A green number, much like his old one but much less ratty and dirty. You refused to look him in the eye as the food was doled out onto everybody's plates, making sure to give him and Ellie extra fries.
Sitting down at the table with everybody as the four of you dug into the food, Ellie and Joel were quiet as they consumed everything they could which elicited a knowing smile between you and Tommy. It was pretty damned clear they hadn’t eaten anything of substance in quite some time. You were only half done with your own as you got Ellie’s attention, “Hey, kid. Want to finish mine off?”
She looked at you and then to the burger in your hand that you leaned towards her. “You wouldn’t mind?”
“Nah, a growing kid like you needs to eat. Take it. I’ll start cleaning up.”
“Ellie,” Joel’s voice hinted at a scold.
You looked at him, “She can eat it. There’s more if either of you want any.” You pushed your plate to the girl and stood, beginning your usual post-meal routine of cleaning up.
“Now you two better not kill each other out there, you hear me,” Tommy started, “Especially you.” He pointed to his brother. You caught out of the corner of your eye Joel tense up, about to argue back.
“Don’t you try to tell me what to do, baby brother,” he emphasizes the ‘baby’.
Tommy put his hands in the air, “I know how you can be, but I also know how she can be.”
This made you cock an eyebrow at him. “Do tell me Tommy Miller, how can I be?”
He stammered for a moment before shrugging, “Hell if I know anymore, you and Maria are gonna be the death of me.”
“Damn right,” you say. You smile and walk over to give him a kiss on the cheek. “Don’t you ever forget that.”
As you walk away, you faintly hear Tommy lean over the table and say something to his brother like, “Goddamn Californian girls.”  Which made you throw a rag at his head. He had it comin’.
The trio finished up while you cleaned the kitchen giving your mind some time to go on autopilot, enjoying the opportunity to stay clear of Joel for a moment. You couldn’t figure out what it was, maybe it was that he was one of the first new strangers to come to Jackson. Maybe it was the fact he was the elusive and mysterious older brother to Tommy. Maybe it was just the fact you were fuckin’ horny. Whatever it was was beginning to get on your last nerve and you needed to focus on the task at hand- getting the duo to the University for whatever reason.
Unfortunately you finished sooner than you’d hoped then trotted to the living room and settled on the couch next to Ellie, watching Tommy get the fire going in the fireplace. She shifted in the seat, eager to ask, “So, you’re from California?”
You nodded your head, “Born and raised in the Bay Area.”
“How old were you when the virus hit,” Ellie asked excitedly. “Joel doesn’t like talking about it but it all seems so surreal.”
You shifted in your seat just a bit, feeling all the eyes on you. “I was a little older than you are now, not by much. I was still very much a kid at the time.”
“So what did you do?”
You’re taken back for a moment at the girl's questions. You could tell she meant no harm but you weren’t sure how much you could reveal about yourself to complete strangers, so you compromised with half-truths. At the very least Tommy knew what kind of person you were and you had shit all to prove to Joel.
“Well, after the breakout, I volunteered as a field medic for FEDRA for a few years. I couldn’t take it for much longer so I left. Then, I found the Fireflies, met Tommy there too,” you nodded towards the man.
“And she found her family there,” Tommy interjected. The double innuendo was clear for the two of you.
“He’s right,” you smiled faintly. “Not only did I meet the man who’d become a brother to me,” you jerked your chin towards Tommy and noticed how Joel was trying to pretend he wasn’t listening to you. You continued, “but I found my own brother there along with my uncle.”
Subtlety wasn’t your strong suit but what harm could it do to show that you knew what the hell you were talking about when it came to the militia group.
You sighed heavily recalling some of the darkest moments of your lift. “When the breakout happened, I lost everybody on that first day. The only person who I couldn’t account for was my brother, Regan. Turns out he was able to escape then he joined the Fireflies when they formed.”
“Woah, that’s incredible,” Ellie’s eyes were wide listening to your story. “Was he friends with Marlene?”
“You could say that. Without him, she would have killed me when I approached her in Boston but he vouched for me. His opinion mattered to her.”
“Why,” she asked.
“Hell if I know, hell if I could even guess. Regan was always persuasive, could get anybody to do anything if he wanted,” you said lowly, staring into the fireplace. Your memory swirled with thoughts and worries again, wondering if he was still the same brother you knew or if this world changed him like it did everybody eventually. Sure as shit changed you.
Before any of you knew it, the conversation began to idle down as if they collectively sensed your unease. Soon, Ellie’s head drooped along with her eyelids, coming to lay in your lap as if it was the most normal thing in the world. The silence didn’t stay long until Joel looked at his brother then to you, gesturing between the two of you, “What was that thing you did with your hand? When we were fighting with the hunters?”
“It’s a system we adopted here in Jackson. A bit inspired by the military, a bit from sign language. We developed it to be able to communicate if we needed total silence and it works pretty well, only those of us in Jackson can understand it,” Tommy says proudly.
“I can teach you and Ellie,” you offer. “I’d be good to know if we run into any trouble out there.” You looked down at Ellie, watching as she slept, running your fingers through her hair. She looked peaceful and part of you didn’t want to move, just so she’d get one good night’s sleep but the other argued she’d sleep better in an actual bed.
“Yeah,” Joel mumbled, “Be nice.”
You looked away from the girl in your lap and looked between the two brothers. “I’ll take this one up to bed, you get some rest too,” you told Joel. “See you in the morning, Tommy.”
Rousing the teenager awake, you walked with her to one of the bedrooms and she fell back asleep rather quickly. Seemed to barely be phased by the new scenery. You kicked off your shoes and went down the hall, claiming the last of the spare bedrooms. By the rise of the next morning, the three of you will be headed out to the one place you didn’t think you’d ever see again.
These are the thoughts that plague you until sleep catches up to you only to toss over and see sunlight peeking through the blinds into the room. You let out a small groan, hoping that you didn’t oversleep although what it really felt like was that you didn’t sleep at all and exited the room only to find your new companions talking with Tommy and Maria in the living room.
Maria spotted you as you descended the stairs and she grabbed your hand, pulling you outside. “You sure about this?”
“More than anything.”
She wants to protest, you know she does. Instead she leaves you on the porch to walk down to Cherry who was keeping two horses occupied.
You went back inside, seeing Ellie double checking her backpack, yours beside hers. You grabbed your toothbrush and some paste, trying to make yourself feel clean with running water one last time for a while only to return to Joel speaking softly to his brother.
“You take care of that wife of yours.”
“There’s a place for you here, you know,” Tommy tries to convince his brother to return.
He hesitates a moment, scratching his beard. His Spanish accent comes through the southern twang as he says, “Adios, hermanito.”
Joel looks at you, following you out of the house before mounting onto his horse, Ellie jumping on behind him. Ellie gives Tommy and Maria a small wave before Joel turns the horse around. 
Maria gives you a tight hug before you are able to get on your horse and she whispers, “You better come back or so help me.”
You pull back and give her a parting kiss on her cheek, “Kill Tommy first.” She laughs sadly at the idle threat and you mount up, giving a parting nod to your friends and then to Cherry and pull up next to Joel and Ellie, ready to tackle this next adventure.
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lokis-army-77 · 3 years
Text
If You Please
Chapter Eighteen
Bucky Barnes x Reader
Word Count: 2195
This is technically a reader insert but without the (y/n) and all that. She also has no name mentioned so feel free to imagine as you please.
Follow the reader through the events of the Captain America movies and experience her love for Bucky Barnes.
Warnings: Bucky being sad
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I woke up that next morning with a crick in my neck and something weighing me down, along with something warm tickling the back of my neck. I slowly opened my eyes, not used to the bright morning sun, and looked around. I was on the ground, not my mattress. I tried to roll over but an arm was stopping me, Bucky's arm. I smiled to myself as his grip around my waist tightened a bit.
“Bucky,” I whispered, trying to turn myself around in his arms.
“Hum?” He hummed out.
“Can you loosen your arms? I’m trying to turn around.”
“Hum,” He hummed out again, this time without a questioning tone. His arms loosened thor grip around me and I was then allowed to turn to my other side. The new position gave me a perfect view of Bucky’s slumbering face. It was a lot more peaceful looking than it usually did when he was sleeping.
I only got one good look at his face before he started to nuzzle into my neck, pulling me closer to him. I lit out a soft giggle before looking over to the far wall at the clock. I had thought it was early morning but with one look at the time, I was proven wrong. The hands were pointing at fifteen past one in the afternoon. My heart jumped at that. We slept almost the whole day away.`
“Bucky sweetheart, we need to get up.” I cooed at him, trying to lift his arms away from me.
“No.” He finally spoke out in a gravelly voice.
“It’s way past lunch, Buck. We need to get up.” I tried lifting his arm off of me again, only to fail. “Bucky.” I started to poke him in the side firmly repeatedly. He quickly moved his arm from around my waist and reached between us to grab hold of my hand. I pushed away from him and rolled onto my stomach so I could drag myself up. I look over at him as he groans loudly.
“My head is killing me.” He mumbles out as he rubs the sleep from his eyes.
“I know,” I said as I stepped into the kitchen to fill up two glasses of water. When I walked back to where he was laying I held out the glass and placed it into his outstretched hand. “Here, this might help a bit.”
“Thank you.” he sat up then tipped his head back and gulped down the water like he hadn't had any in forever. After all the water was gone he gasped a bit for air.
“Do you feel better now?” I asked as I took sips of my own water.
“Yeah, I do.” We stayed quiet for a few minutes after that, just enjoying the company of one another.
“Well, we’ve slept almost the entire day away so what would you like to do with the few hours of sun we have left?” I asked, turning my head to look at him.
“Would you like to go for a walk? I think I remember us going for walks every Sunday afternoon.” He eyed me through his hair.
“I would love that, let me change and then we can go.” I quickly got up off the floor and grabbed a change of clothes before making my way into the bathroom to get ready.
Upon exiting the bathroom I spotted Bucky in the kitchen pouring something into a bowl. He turned around when I shut the door. “I fixed cereal,” He said as he put the milk back into the fridge and then picked up the two bowls in order to bring me mine.
“Thanks,” I took the bowl from his hands and sat cross-legged on the loveseat, Bucky sat across from me at the dining table. We ate in a comfortable silence until we had both finished and then we left.
We walked down the streets and a couple of small alleyways before we eventually made it to one of the parks a few blocks away from the apartment building. We strolled leisurely through the tree-covered area, stopping every once in a while to just take in what was around us. Thankfully there weren't many people in the area we were walking in. We were still a bit nervous about being recognized.
I watched as Bucky quickly strode in front of me towards something I could not see just off the pathway. He came to a stop and bent down, he was picking something up. Slowly he turned around as he stood back up and in his metal hand were three flowers. As he came closer to me I began to see the tiny bouquet. They were a soft lilac with three delicate petals that came to a point and three smaller petals directly in the center.
Bucky held them out to me and I took them gently from his hand, bringing them to my nose to smell their sweet scent. I sighed out and flicked my gaze up to his eyes. He was watching me constantly. I flashed a smile at him before taking a step forward so I could interlock my arm with his.
“These are beautiful.”
He gave a small laugh before running his metal fingers through his hair. “I know I used to get you flowers on our walks.” I just nodded at him. We started back to walking and eventually, we made it to the edge of a pond. The sound of the water was relaxing and in the distance, I could hear the faint sound of a piano. I liked it here, I had a feeling I never really wanted to leave. Just stay here, build a new life with Bucky. It sounded like a good idea.
“Hey, Buck?” I questioned.
“Yeah, Doll?” He said casually. I almost tripped over my own feet, if Bucky wasn’t holding onto my arm then I would have fallen face-first into the concrete. His saying the endearment was more shocking to me than when he said my actual name for the first time. I didn’t say anything about it though, instead, I just went along with what I was initially going to say.
“What do you think about settling down here? Save up some money, get a house and just live a simple life out in the Romanian countryside. We won’t have to worry about anything, no fighting, no HYDRA or SHIELD, just us two.”
He was quiet like he always was nowadays. Then he nodded. “That would be amazing and we could have that farm we talked about right after you graduated.” I smiled wide as he remembered something we had talked about years ago.
We continued our walk all the way around the park. It was almost five before we made it to the block our apartment was on and by that time the sun was beginning to get lower in the sky. At some point Bucky had unhooked our arms and was now holding onto my hand, our fingers interlaced.
“Why don’t we get takeout for dinner? I don’t feel like cooking today.” I suggest when I spot one of the small pizza places by the apartment.
“Yeah, I’ve got some money.” He tugs me into the restaurant and places an order. After sliding the cashier a few bills he walks back over to me so we can wait for our food.
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Several weeks had now passed and it was nearing the beginning of September. After the walk, we had in July things changed, for the better of course. Bucky had found a second twin-sized mattress and we had pushed them together to make a king-sized bed on the floor. He began to hold me close to him when we slept, his head always buried in the back of my neck. His nightmares had almost come to a complete stop, he only had one once during August and that was it.
After our talk of getting a house, we both got some small, under-the-table jobs. Nothing dangerous, just something we didn’t have to provide identification papers for. It would take a while for us to create new identities here.
Today was an off day for me. Bucky had gone off to a job early this morning and I just stayed home relaxing and reading. There still really wasn't anything to do in our small apartment. When I inevitably got bored I started cleaning. You would think with this just being one tiny room and a bathroom, it wouldn't take long at all to clean, no it actually took almost all afternoon. By the time I was finished the place was practically shining.
Around five I started making some dinner, knowing that Bucky would be back soon. He ended up strolling through the door right after I put away the dishes I had dirtied up to fix food.
“Something smells good.” He started as he walked to stand by my side at the stove. He looked into the pot and smiled seeing the roast and potatoes. He reached out for the fork I was handing him. I sat a bowl down in front of him and another in front of myself.
“Dig in,” I said before pausing to look at him. “I think after we eat I need to cut your hair. It’s past your shoulders.”
He stopped, dropping the meat from his fork into the bowl. “No, you are going nowhere near my hair.”
“You at least need a trim, I won't chop it off if you don’t want me to.” I reasoned with him as I began to shovel meat from the pot into my bowl, along with a bit of the broth. Bucky eyed me suspiciously. “What? I mean it.”
“I don’t know, I seem to be remembering that the last time you said you were cutting someone's hair, Steve ended up with a stripe of hair missing.”
“That was not my fault,” I scoffed. “I told him to be still and he moved his head because you,” I poked him in the arm for emphasis, “decided to throw a ball at his head right as I put the clippers to him. So if you’re worried then you better not move your head.”
He said nothing as he continued to place more meat and potatoes in his bowl. I shook my head and went to sit down at the table, Bucky followed shortly after.
“Fine, just a trim.”
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After dinner, Bucky cleaned up our dishes while I got the bathroom ready so I could cut his hair. I dug under the cabinet for a minute before finding the pair of scissors I bought a couple months back so I could trim my own hair.
Pretty soon Bucky made his way into the bathroom and I sat him down on the chair I had placed in front of the mirror.
“Okay, let's get started,” I said enthusiastically as I grabbed the spray bottle of water from the counter, as well as the comb. I wet his hair and gently combed through the knots, when his hair was nice and smooth I sat the spray bottle down and reached for the scissors. Placing my hands on his head I maneuvered him to where I needed. “Don’t move, or else.” I threatened.
He gave a short laugh before saying, “I won't.”
When I had finished cutting his hair, it was probably a little shorter than it was in January. I quickly dusted the hair from around his shoulders and sat the comb and scissors back down on the counter. “Okay, you’re done.”
He stood up from the chair and leaned forward to look in the mirror. “It looks great Doll, thank you.” He turned himself around in the tiny space, reached over the chair to me, and placed a small kiss on my cheek.
“Um- why don’t you go take a shower so you can get loose hair off,” I say as I grab the chair to drag it out of the bathroom. He nods at my suggestion and I slowly shut the door behind me as I walk out.
I scooted the chair back into its spot at the dining table and then went to lay down on the bed. I grabbed the book I had been reading so I can have something to do while I wait for him. Only about five minutes pass before Bucky is exiting the bathroom with damp hair and pajamas on. He comes and lays down next to me and grabs his book as well. He was still reading ‘The Hobbit’, I think this was his third time through it.
The longer I read the more tired I became until I eventually laid my book down and closed my eyes. I turned on my side so I could curl up next to Bucky's side. I felt him shuffle around to accommodate me before I heard him start to speak quietly. It took me a second to realize he was reading aloud to me. I smiled and sighed contently as I listened to him read something about trolls.
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Tag List: @ginger-swag-rapunzel @underc0vercryptid-reads @geek-and-proud @intothesoul @leyannrae @starkleila @andy-is-gay
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everafterkeiji · 4 years
Text
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Song: Cornelia Street by Taylor Swift
Summary: Who knew that a certain street can bring back a love that grew in distance?
Pairings: Keiji Akaashi x gn! reader
Tags, Genre: Timeskip! Akaashi, ex! lovers, slight angst, a tad bit of fluff
Word count: 6.8k
A/N: this is my late Valentine's gift for y'all<3 this is also the last story for my tiny event so pls let me know if you enjoyed this story and the rest!
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What if I’m not ready for the next chapter?
You had your hands behind you as you felt the odd urge for your feet to lead them to him, but the two meter distance tells you otherwise.
“This is it then?”
He asks, biting his tongue to resist the words that wanted to escape him. Abundant sentences were locked in his throat and they each consisted of reasons why he’s suddenly had a change of mind in your agreement.
You sadly nod but he sees the way you quickly look down as a drop falls to the ground, followed by another, then another. He loathed how you hastily wiped your eyes as you formed a smile on your lips, catching his fallen heart.
“I guess it is, Akaashi.”
Then you waited.
Waited for those words to be exchanged from the both of you but none even came close to the tips of your tongues, both scarred at how the silence grew.
Your expectations were headed in one direction only and that was downwards. The reality of how bitter it was rose to reality while the sky was painted the hue of romance, mirroring the depthless amor you had for each other.
So you were ready, at least you thought you were.
Turning your heel, he calls out for you. A tone that held his pleas in secret, he didn’t realize how he was begging for you to stay with the slight crack in his voice.
“Y/N I-“
Say it, Akaashi. Please, do it for me.
You could land on your knees to pray for everything to be different from what they are now. It looked like everything was set in stone for him but it wasn’t for you. This was a situation you two have discussed about but how come the time where you two are finally taking different directions, it felt too unbelievable at how fast time has come to be?
“See you soon, Y/N.” He continues and this takes a massive hit to your heart. You visualized a completely different sentence then this but instead it was another wake-up call to you. Suddenly, the pages in your book were left unwritten and it seemed like the love story was fading without a happy ending.
But he never really said goodbye did he?
“You too, Keiji.”
With that you two walk in different directions but the string tied on your hearts remained to the both of you as it follows the more miles you reached.
-
“Congrats, Akaashi! I’m so proud of you! We should celebrate!” Bokuto cheers over the phone, prancing around his apartment while the setter smiles, adjusting his glasses before dragging the zipper of his bag to close it.
“Thanks, Bokuto but let’s meet after this week is that alright?” Akaashi says while he enjoys the night breeze with only the streetlights to guide him where his heart calls home. He could see the way Bokuto would pout at his declined offer as he lets out a chuckle.
“Congratulations, Akaashi-san!” Hinata screams beside Bokuto before they return to their little movie night with the rest of the MSBY team. He was happy to hear from the younger boy, it’s been a while since he’s gone on a meet-up with Bokuto and Hinata but he was thankful at how supportive they were of him even if their paths never met.
“Thank you seriously. I’ll call you when I have some free time. I just have to go somewhere okay?” Bokuto’s smile slumps as he realizes just exactly where he was planning to go but he figured that if this was one way that Akaashi could cope with the wasted years, he lets him be.
It’s the sanctuary for his weakened heart.
“I understand. Don’t stay for too long okay?” Bokuto says, sincerity in his voice. If Akaashi has an endless list of the ex-captains' weaknesses, Koutaro was the only one who knew the boy's kryptonite.
And one touch of it destroys him in every possible way.
“I won’t but thank you. I’ll see you soon.” Keiji bids goodbye to him and ends the call while disregards the voice in his head to control himself going back to same route. With how many times he visits the place, he feels as if he’s memorized every creak on the sidewalk, the exact colors of the houses near it, even the positions of the streetlights that he uses to retrace his steps when he’s on the way home. As he stares at night sky and the stars grew bright making him feel like it was communicating to him. Perhaps, they knew how hopeless he was and they knew that this was the only way to mend his heart even if the bigger pieces were still missing.
The street held so much magic that it faded but Akaashi held onto it because maybe- maybe it could bring you back.
But magic isn’t real and what was left were flashes of our poor reality.
“Keiji, what did you wish for?” You asked him, your head leaned on his shoulder with your intertwined hands on his lap while his thumb traces shapes around it. He smiles fondly while he marvels at the stars.
“I wish it never ends.” He answers softly, looking at you like you were the only being in the endless galaxy that could ever make him believe in foolish wishes while our eyes were too fixated on the celestial creations above.
“What do you think will?”
“Us.”
Here he was, seated in the same place where his wish had turned into dust.
This was his safe place, finding comfort in it even if it had his heart turning into shards and as he keeps his silence, the wise lady who's known the boy ever since he was in Fukurodani, approaches him with a sad smile. A basket of flowers in her hands as she leaves the space beside him unaccompanied knowing it was where you used to belong.
“Still not here?” She asks while Akaashi meets her gray eyes with his lips drawn downwards, avoiding her gaze to look at the stars who betrayed him.
“I don’t think it’ll happen.” He says with his own orbs reflecting the same pain that it does every day. The lady holds out an eglantine rose in front of him while he stares down on it, fascinated at the colors of it. He takes it from her, twirling it in his hands as he smiles, the beauty of it growing on me.
“Thank you.” She bows at him but before she could walk away, she saw how much the boy was holding back the tears with his head down and the flower nearly touching the floor with how low he held it. She feels for him too much. She couldn’t even wonder just how heavy he must feel. He visits more than the times that she could count. Before, he would visit every day- even eating his lunch or just doing something to keep him away from leaving. He was too attached to ever leave but when he left for college, the daily visits subsided and she thought that maybe he’d given up.
It's sad that he didn’t.
She places an iris next to him and her heart stung when she hears him mention a name that is the only thing that brings equal parts of love and pain.
“I’m here, Y/N.”
-
“Everything okay?” Your friend asks while you turned to her dazed.
“Yeah.” You lied before returning your attention to the buildings and city lights as you wait for your stop. It was too late- nearly passing 1am when you had finished a project that was due for tomorrow. After several coffee fueled nights of editing and rewriting- it was finally over. You were on your way home, craving the mattress to hug you already- even a well-deserved shower. Thankfully, you already had your dinner and you just spent your hours at a library with her trying to settle the outcome of it. Luckily, you were able to catch a bus this late and relax a little by letting the scenery unwind you from your worries.
But with the city being this beautiful, it leads you to remember the divine wreckage that was once your relationship.
At first, you weren’t sure where you wanted to go when college came in.
Now the only place you’d rather be was the space beside him.
It comes as a threat sometimes, to be able to withstand the distance without him. You thought that he’d be a phone call away the first time you broke down during one of your stressful weeks but instead of a dial, it involves mastering the courage to do so and maybe a bus to actually meet with him. You’d let him wipe away your tears, possibly his hands stroking your hair and whispering you pretty words to calm you down, maybe even his lips on yours and that’ll take all the pain away and replace it with the tenderness of his love.
“I’ll be here.”
I wish you would be, Keiji.
Stepping out of the bus, you waved to your friend goodbye while you walked the way to your apartment. You stopped mid-way when you saw a man who was packing his cart of flowers. You noticed him every morning because he’d give away some of his flowers to kids for free, even bringing along his 5-year-old daughter so you would occasionally buy from him. He sees you so he gives you a kind smile while he gestures for you to stop for a second making you go towards him.
He hands you a gorgeous bellflower while you reach for your wallet to pay but he waves you off. You wondered if he gave you a flower seeing that you once came home with tears in your eyes with how exhausted you were or was it because of the season of love or was it a pure act of kindness.
“It’s all good.” You smiled at him while you admire the delicate thing in your hand. He finishes packing up and before you could even ask what it symbolizes. Either way, you were thankful that something so beautiful in your hands.
A temporary replacement for Akaashi’s fingers who found it’s home when it’s intertwined with yours.
Sighing, you went up to your room to rest. After a few minutes of being in complete serenity, your phone rings beside you while you saw Bokuto’s number flash before you. Missing his company, you decided to answer wanting to hear his loud and bubbly voice.
“Bo?”
“Hey hey hey Y/N! God I missed you so much! I really didn’t intend to call this late because I was scrolling and I accidentally pressed on your number but how are you?” This was one of the moments where your smile was genuine. You remembered the times where Bokuto had you laugh for hours during classes. You missed the way he hugged you when graduation came and you had to say good-bye to him first, having Bokuto as a friend felt like there will never be a day where you could be stuck with a rainy cloud above your head. He remained to be the sunshine- or in this case- the star that held it all together. You and Akaashi were superbly proud of him. Seeing him live out his dream with his bright smile is a sight that never gets old.
“I missed you too! I’m doing okay, what about you?” You asked him while your eyes land on a photo of you and Akaashi that was above your desk but you decided to shrug it off because this wasn’t the right time to feel these negative emotions.
“I’m doing good too! I haven’t seen you in such a long time damn. Akaashi is doing well too- he got in as an editor at this agency and- shit I’m sorry I didn’t mean to pile that on you. “ Bokuto says pouting, disappointed that he’d slip up this fast. He didn’t mean to mention in this early- he knew you two haven’t had your heart mended even if time has passed. He was just so used to talking to you so casually that he had forgotten that his two friends weren’t the same lovers as they were in high school.
“That’s amazing to hear, Kou. Tell him I said congratulations.” You said, proud for him. You knew that Akaashi’s future was far different from yours. He was heading on a road that held no traffic, just a simple path with no one to stop him. While yours had bumps and traffic but what made it bearable was because he was right beside you throughout the journey.
But now you had to face it all alone.
“Do you see me in your future?” You asked, turning to meet his eyes while his hands were fixed on your waist. He smiles before he lets his finger doodle on the minimally exposed skin of yours.
“Absolutely. What makes you think I’d say no?” He says looking at you worried that maybe there was another bubble of anxiousness that formed above you, while you grew silent because you were stuck in a dream with how his skin felt blissful on yours.
“Is something wrong, babe?” He asks, caressing your waist while he leans closer to you. It was normal for you to be this intimate but the burn of your heart still feel so new- like every time it happens it feels as if it’s the first time all over again.
“I guess I just got scared at the thought where you wouldn’t be in it.” He feels his heart sped up with your words. Your fate was glued to his and if his future didn’t include you in it, he’ll forever be stuck on the present when you were still there.
“No matter the timeline, the universe, I’d be there.”
But the glue dried didn’t it?
“We were planning to celebrate his new job, are you available?” Bokuto asks, while he wonders if this was a good plan to do so.
“I’ll try.” You responded, a panic sets in wondering how it’ll go down if you actually attend this mini get together. You’d face him- it’s not like you didn’t want that to happen- but the pain was still raw. Seeing him after years of denying that you were over it, you’d be lying to yourself once again.
“Hey Y/N?”
“Yeah?”
“Got some time to catch up?”
Grinning at the amusement in his voice, you agreed.
-
It’s ridiculous how the city was filled with romance while two past lovers were consumed by loneliness.
Everyone was love-struck, buying chocolates and roses here and there, like puppets being controlled by Eros. Akaashi had to ignore the constant stories of his co-workers about their significant others giving them gifts and proudly presents their love for each other. He liked seeing them happy of course, everyone’s got their fair share of being in love.
But he experienced it when it became a blur.
You also had to endure the claims of girls on how many roses they got, bragging about it to no end. You also heard guys loudly gossiping about how they got the girl to agree with them on a date and this merely pisses you off because the unnecessary bitterness resurfaces.
Even if this wasn’t your day to be the happiest, you fell at peace with his jacket on you.
You stole about two jackets from him, even wearing his jersey when you visit his house. It felt like a sad embrace- like ghost of him wrapping his arms around you and resting his chin on your head like he used to do. You forgot about it being in your closet but when you found it this morning, it had you speechless for a few minutes before wearing it and imagining his warmth. You actually stayed in your bed for a good 15 minutes just hugging the fabric close to your body, shedding tears here and there when you remembered just how much you craved his overall presence.
With a love this sour, it rained.
Maybe it was because of you two but all of you were obviously not ready for such a down pour- especially on a Saturday when the sun was too bright that when it started to turn to gray, no one was prepared for it.
You were lucky enough that his jacket kept you slightly dry for the first half but the sky got more furious and drowned everyone with it’s droplets. You used your bag instead to find a bus stop bench to avoid the rain, you didn’t have a clear vision at where you were going because of how everyone was rushing to find their own place of refuge and because of the hood of the jacket.
Panting from running, you sat down on the bench as chills ran up your spine with the cold breeze meeting with your drenched clothes.
“Sweetie here- I got a spare umbrella.” A lady says as you turned to her surprised that she’d let you borrow her belonging. When you remove your hood, she’s left to smile at your features.
“Wouldn’t you need that ma’am? I’m sorry but I’ll have to decline.” You said kindly but she shakes her head, opening her bag and grabbing the umbrella as she takes your hand in hers and placing it in your palm.
“Take it, it’s fine. You might catch a cold and I wouldn’t want that to happen to you.” She says, her eyes showing you genuineness.
“But-“
“You can always return it to me when your done, dear. I’m sure you’re familiar with this place.” You raised an eyebrow at her but once you felt the booming beat of your heart, you knew where you are, because there’s no other place that could make you this week.
You dropped the umbrella with so much shock that it led you here. The painted houses, the nightly strolls, the kisses underneath the streetlights- the only place where your mind and heart agreed on.
Shaking your head and picking up the fallen object, the lady was nowhere to be seen and it made your heart pick up it’s pace even more now that she’s disappeared.
Your hand touches something while you jumped slightly at the feel of it. You turn to your side to see an iris, sitting perfectly soaked in water. You eyed it carefully and even when it was covered in water, it’s color and beauty still stood out but tears brimmed in your eyes when you were overwhelmed with so much memories.
“Keiji, I have to go.” You said chuckling while he twirls you around on the empty street, dancing to the beat of your own contented hearts. You weren’t even drunk but maybe you two were just high of the devotion for each other. It was a random move that Akaashi had made when your intertwined hands swing around then the next second he was you twirling and having no care in the world whoever watched.
It was a surprise to see the boy this open- so free to move the way he wanted without surrendering into his doubts. He couldn’t care if he looked like a fool- what was he to do? He was in love.
“You didn’t like our little dance session?” He teases before pulling you into his arms, underneath the light while you chuckled before planting a kiss on his nose.
“I loved it. I didn’t know you could dance like that, my prince.” You said, following through his lines, with a smile on your lips.
“Is it your curfew?” He asks with a laugh knowing you hated when your parents made him bring you home before 10 because of how worried they were.
“You know it is.”
He cups your cheek before he pulls you into a kiss while you closed your eyes, submerging into a pool of butterflies as he deepens it, intensifying the heat of your cheeks. He had his hands to either side of your hip while yours were lost in his dark locks. He pulls away before letting his thumb graze over your cheek.
“I guess I’ll have to spend more time with you in my sleep then?”
You laughed at his words before pulling him close with your arms wrapped around his neck.
“I wouldn’t mind it, prince charming.”
Feeling that your heart was nearly going to collapse, you stood up wiping your eyes as you hurriedly open the umbrella as you walked away as fast as you could, not ready to face another breakdown that’ll take a hard time to recover from.
Not too long from your disappearance, Akaashi sees the empty bench as the rain still poured down on his umbrella. It was another day where his wishes were stomped on, though he knows he should’ve never believed that it’ll be granted in the first place, a trial is still a trial no matter how many failed attempts there were.
He remembers that there was an iris when he last left but he had assumed that the lady took it back to her garden. He knew what it meant; it symbolizes hope. Though he needed it, he longed for something more.
And that was you.
But it was always him and the street, without any trace of you.
Then there’s this feeling in his chest, a tug of a rope that feels so near- a change in atmosphere ever since he got there.
Could it be?
But what sign of such desperation is this? To blindly hope that you were just here?
It’s funny that you actually were.
Keiji sighs as he walks away but there was still that odd feeling that he couldn’t get pass by. He tried to push away the memories like always does but with love around, why couldn’t he just treasure the moments you had?
While he walks to the bus stop, he notices a figure who just got in time to get inside and when he was supposed to follow them, the driver speaks to him.
“I’m sorry kid, we’re already full.” He says but Akaashi nods and steps away from the bus as his eyes follow the move of the figure until they sat down and the bus speeds off.
You removed your hood, thankful that you caught a ride home. Though, you felt bad for the person who didn’t get to ride along because the rain started to come down harder. You kept your hands together on your lap the way home, freezing and still shook by the nostalgic the street brought you to. It was good to be back there because you did visit it multiple times before you settled in your apartment. You used to sit on the bench for hours just letting the emotions wash over you. It was like you could see your past selves that were so happy- like ghosts dancing in the moonlight. Even if it was a breeze of his presence, you’d fall in love with it still.
Why did you both have to mature so fast?
When love belongs to two people who always chose to be the best for each other, it takes them both down.
Why?
Because they were always enough and they never realize it.
You and Keiji were a good example for that.
“Wouldn’t that be better for us?” He asks, fiddling with his fingers at the panic that takes over him but he desperately tried to mask it with his calm composure.
You had to agree.
This was his future at your hands and you wouldn’t want to be the person who could bring him to his down fall.
“I think so- but please not now?” You pleaded, burying your face into his neck, holding on to him while tears threatened to drop on his skin. He closes his eyes and embraces you more, cherishing the last moments he had.
You were too busy worrying about destroying his dreams but what was set in both of your futures was a heartbreak that time could never mend.
You wiped the tear away from your eyes as you felt a yank to your heart the more it floods your mind.
The time you got home, bed ridden for no reason, you couldn’t stay put. Did you want to go back there just to prove that you felt something? Maybe. But was it too late to actually go back? Yes it was. Considering that you slept for three hours and woke up at 1am isn’t exactly the right time to go back when criminals were lurking around. So you had your mind keep you awake but that wasn’t a good decision either because here you were without a fraction of a smile as you held your photograph with Akaashi.
It was a simple photo, just you and him smiling when he wore his jersey after you attended a match they won on. Bokuto took the photo making an excuse was that Akaashi needed to remember this match but he was simply doing the boy a favor just to get a photo with you.
But what you didn’t know was that there was a prize way better than winning the game.
“Thanks Bokuto.” You said before he hands you your phone back while Keiji peaks over your shoulder to look at the photo.
“We look good together.” He comments making you blush while you stared at the screen.
“It’d be better if we actually got together.”
Your phone felt weak in your hands as you turned to Akaashi who didn’t even had a reaction compared to yours, and the only thing plastered on his gorgeous features was a sly smirk.
“You mean-?”
“Precisely.” He says chuckling while you covered your face in your hands with how flustered you were while your heart was practically set on fire as Bokuto shakes his head with a smile with how impressively smooth Akaashi was being.
“I happily accept then.” You said softly with your heart went crazy as Akaashi closes his eyes for a second before smiling and taking your hand in his intertwining it for the first time, even planting a kiss on it making you even more stunned as you already were.
“Finally. I waited too long to call you mine.”
You just felt so euphoric knowing that’s where it all began. Sure, he had been assisting you on your way home but to become lovers and do that was another experience. Prancing around like fools, laughing until someone tells you both to stay quiet, to converse about Greek gods and references that Akaashi took the time to learn about- everything.
I wish I never had to see you walk away.
Both of you thought about the same thing at the same time.
While Bokuto stiffens when he remembers what you told him as he dials Akaashi’s phone number.
“Bokuto?”
“It’s possible, Akaashi.”
With that sentence, he drops his phone as his heart begins to beat the loudest it’s ever been.
“Can you meet with me?”
-
“Y/N called you?” Akaashi says, frowning at the fact that you had called Bokuto instead of him. He understood why you didn’t though but it still strikes a nerve to him when he remembers how much the captain used to make you laugh.
“I accidentally called and I asked if we could talk some more and it just happened. Y/N told me that every Saturday- they try to visit but the apartment is just far from where you two go. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you as fast as I could, Kei. “ Bokuto says sighing while there was a slight pinch of relief when the setter knew that it was an accident.
“I just can’t believe Y/N still visits.” Akaashi says but Bokuto looks at him with eyebrows furrowed as he leans on the bench. The MSBY player couldn’t comprehend what was so special about the place they were in. Sure, he knew that this was your route home but what about the empty street that makes it so miserable and magical at the same time? After high school and during their video calls, he sees the boy in his usual setting- the same location all over again. The curiosity didn’t hit him but when he knew that you also visited often, that’s when it got him hooked. He’s actually gone there when he accompanied the two of you whenever you’d watch movies together but he didn’t feel just how precious it was. He figured that it was because it’s the only alone time you could get but there’s always something more to it.
So, he finally asks.
“What is it about this place that makes you two keep coming back?”
There was a faint smile on Akaashi’s lips but it disappeared when the weight of the question dawned on him.
“Because when Y/N walked away here, I did too.”
Akaashi bites his lip as Bokuto lends a hand on the younger boy's shoulder, letting him know he shouldn’t be in a hurry.
“I’m so sorry I asked.”
“It’s fine. I had to tell you either way.”
“I just can’t believe it’s all ending so fast.” You said as you were embraced in his chest on your bed while he hums in response with his hand tangled in your hair.
“Have you decided on what to do for college?” He asks softly and your hesitation of an answer was enough for him as he places a kiss on your forehead.
“That’s fine, love. We talked about this, we don’t have to rush it.” You let your fingers fumble with the fabric of his shirt while the negativity consumes you.
“Won’t that affect us?” You asked him quietly while he looks at you confused.
“What do you mean?”
“You’ve always known what you wanted to do and I just- don’t.” Akaashi sits up a bit making you do the same while cups your cheek and you avoided his eyes.
“We don’t have to think about what happens then.” He says before taking you in his arms again, your head deep in his neck while you let the scent of him momentarily ease your worries.
His own demons couldn’t calm him down.
He understands why you were so scared because he felt the same. What if he couldn’t bring a smile to your face again? What if the laughter dies and all he could give you were tears? What’s he to do then?
Replacing you isn’t an option for him but he feels as if his own value is worth replacement for everything.
His heart takes another swing of pain while he holds you because rock bottom was so close to him.
“I wouldn’t want to hold you down, Keiji.” You whispered while he’s deep in thought of what mattered more- staying in your future or destroying it?
“I feel the same, my love.” He says caressing your hair as you both closed your eyes.
It wasn’t the fall of love between you two- it was because of how massive it was.
No other feeling could describe how much you loved each other that you would do everything just to keep their hearts together and smiling as days pass by- even if it meant saying goodbye.
“Your dreams, your passion, your strive- Keiji I never want to make you wait just because I can’t figure things out.” You said while tiny cracks formed inside his heart.
“And you know I don’t want to make you feel like you always have to keep up.” You held onto his shirt as tears prickled in your eyes, overwhelmed at how you’d let him go just for the sake of his dream.
You were always proud of Akaashi. He grew into his own star and made all the wishes of love come true when he showed you how much he was willing to stay by your side no matter what.
But even the brightest star becomes dull, especially when it came to you.
You were the one to say that you wanted more time to hold onto him. It’s been a week since your last discussion- which was traumatic for you. You heard him ramble on about his dreams and how endless the possibilities for him and you felt so small. All the dreams in your list were left unchecked while his were adding more and more. He’d suggested things for you but it never settles in your heart when you doubted your own capabilities.
You are my only dream, Akaashi.
“Wouldn’t that be better for us?” He asks, fiddling with his fingers at the panic that takes over him but he desperately tried to mask it with his calm composure.
You had to agree.
This was his future at your hands and you wouldn’t want to be the person who could bring him to his down fall.
“I think so- but please not now?” You pleaded, burying your face into his neck, holding on to him while tears threatened to drop on his skin. He closes his eyes and embraces you more, cherishing the last moments he had.
“Love I-” Akaashi stutters as he tries to come up with a better way to avoid the end but he was in no man's land now.
“It’s happening is it?” You couldn’t stare at him straight but you could feel it in your bones that his grip was loosening with every second. He pulls away as both your eyes were fixed on your laps as Akaashi’s skin tingles when it craved your own.
“Y/N-”
“Just... don’t say goodbye. I can feel it either way.”
“Then let me say I love you instead.”
Because I’ll never know when I could ever say it again.
It was better to say farewell instead of letting the silence drift you two away.
Akaashi looks at Bokuto with a pained expression as he lets the tears slip from his blue eyes as he covers his face, sobbing into his hands.
Bokuto lets his hand rest on the younger boys shoulder while his heart aches at the sobs that echoed through the night. He should’ve been there, to at least give an embrace to the broken boy because all that ever hugged Akaashi was regret. He should’ve called just to check on him but his job as a volleyball player had his hands busy that the remidner was thrown out of his head.
“It ended here didn’t it?” He asks quietly while Akaashi nods making him bite his lip at how unfortunate it was. He didn’t expect to see this side of Akaashi- and he especially didn’t expect how you two would fall apart just like that. You were too good for each other that what was supposed to make you continue separately, it just keeps leading you both to the same route. Why do you even come back when this was the place you got your hearts broken? Years have passed, moving on was always a possibility but you couldn’t do it. No matter how far you were, your heartstrings were attached to his and there isn’t any way to cut it free when you simply don’t want to let go.
“I don’t think I’ll ever love someone else.” Keiji whispers truthfully, your name imprinted on his heart without a way to remove it.
“You don’t love Y/N.”
Akaashi looks at Bokuto offended as he wipes his eyes, questioning how could he possibly say that- it sounded so painful when he said it like that. It wasn’t true but he can’t even imagine the thought of not loving you anymore.
“Because if you did, why aren’t they here?”
He stares dumbfounded to the boy beside him while Bokuto’s voice was filled with seriousness. The younger boy was surprised to hear such a phrase come from him but what he said was the reality he couldn’t face.
How can he say that he loves you when he hasn’t tried to make ends meet?
But is it too late?
Akaashi is too foolishly patient that he kept returning to same spot when he could’ve gained the confidence to call you and asked how you’ve been doing but instead he wallowed in his own sorrows.
So maybe, he should say goodbye to this street knowing there’s a bigger picture he’s yet to explore.
“Thank you, Koutaro.” He says while the older boy flashes him a smile, his eyes twinkling, pleased to see Akaashi returning to his past self with the realization setting in his mind and heart.
For the first time in years, Akaashi’s heart feels relieved.
Because he was bound to bring you back, no matter the cost.
-
He’s never felt more excited to leave work.
This was the day where he’s gathered his emotions to properly bid the memories goodbye because he was set on making much better ones when he finally gets you back.
That was his new dream.
When he went home yesterday, he couldn’t sleep with the ideas keeping him awake. This was the adrenaline rush he was looking for when he called you before you went away. He was incredibly set on getting you back even if he’d bombard whatever agency or college room you were in. Letting you go once was enough, if it happened twice then it meant he truly didn’t love you. He was grateful that Bokuto had opened his eyes to a better perspective. He was stuck on one location when you could be anywhere in the world so it was fitting to end the torment by bidding a proper farewell to the tears that he shed.
Arriving later than usual, he has a rose in hand as he takes a last good look at the place where love blossomed like a the rarest flower. He feels how ponderous it was release his grip on something so special.
He sits on the bench for the last time as the flower pivots in his hands as the stars watched the lonesome boy smile. He takes in a deep breath before standing up and before he could let go of the rose, his smile falls first.
You felt your heart go unsteady as you clutched onto the umbrella when your eyes met his perfectly blue ones.
“Y/N?”
He then places the rose on the bench as he got off and ran to you, taking you in his arms with such great force that it almost made you lose balance as the tears instantly came on when he held you tight. Hands around your waist while your arms stayed at your side at how shocked you were. Akaashi buries his face on your shoulder as he closes his eyes and just as he almost says goodbye, he found a reason to stay.
Finally reoccurring to you that it was actually real, you wrapped your arms around him tighter than he ever could. Akaashi thought that it was another day where his illusions would trick him into a life that his mind created for him to be happy but this was way better than any fictional world he formed.
“My future can never be complete if you’re not with me.”
He whispers making your heart awestruck once again as he pulls away from your embrace to place both his hands on your cheek, wiping away your own tears as he looks at you straight into yours, with his own puddle on the corner of his eyes.
“I’m here now.” He says and it takes in every part of your body to not just scream and tell him how much a single sentence mattered to you. You’ve waited too long to hear him say that and to finally witness it had your dim heart allow the light to pass through and the warmth of it makes you weak.
“I love you so much.” Akaashi said like he was out of breath. He feels the pressure that maybe his time was running out and he had to say everything before fate takes you away again.
Noticing the panic in his voice, you placed your hand on his cheek like the fragile lover you were and when you did this, the poor boy was going to faint at how you gently caressed his skin. Raising his glasses, you looked at his terrified eyes as you let your hands ease his racing mind.
“I’m not going anywhere, Keiji.” You assured him while he smiles weakly at your words. You saw the way a tear cascaded down his cheek and you went your way to kiss his temple while your lips felt a shock of electricity when you did it.
“I love you more.” He’s never realized how words could heal his wounds in a second. He places a kiss to your forehead as his hands slowly trails down to your free hand, intertwining them with his as the surroundings lit up, the magic coming back as you smiled at each other.
“Let’s try this again shall we?”
93 notes · View notes
feverdancing · 3 years
Text
when it rains we run, okay?
I’m cross-posting this on Archive of Our Own and Wattpad. enjoy.
Chapter Two can be found here.
Chapter One. 
It was raining again. It pounded against the buildings. Large puddles in the dirty streets already pooling up.
‘Walking to work tomorrow will be a pain’ Nene mused to herself as she watched from her small tiny apartment.
She glanced around her living room, a small dingy couch against the wall with a rectangle coffee table in front of it.
It was right next to her, and just a few feet forward, a small old tv, that barely works sits, off. It was sitting on one of those antique dressers they, her and Hanako, got at some yard sale.
Antique? She huffs with a smile forming, Hanako called it that, when in reality, it was just really old and on the verge of collapsing.
Nene looked back out the window, drawing her gaze to the street below. It was busy, as it normally was at this time. Black umbrellas rushing past each other, she tries to see if one of the many people down there is him.
This was normal.
She opened the dresser and grabbed a book sitting in it, before sitting onto the couch she tapped the arm of it, a random melody off the top of her head.
She waited for Hanako to come home,
They’d eat what he had brought home.
Hanako and she would discuss what happened that day on that misshaped couch, and she’d watch him fiddle with the tv, trying to get it to work correctly.
Then they would both go to bed in their room that’s practically a large closet.
He would mumble facts about the stars as she drifted to sleep.
And in the morning she’d go to work.
It was fine.
They were safe here.
Ama- Hanako wasn’t going to get hurt, she wasn’t either.
They were going to be fine.
The rain wasn’t going to hurt them.
Rain is good.
Rain is why they are safe.
Blinking, Nene drew her head to the door, hearing the sound of it unlocking. It opened slowly, Nene sucked some air, her ruby eyes focusing on it.
Then, a black tuff of hair appeared. Hanako walked in, placing his umbrella in its stand.
He turned his head towards her, a childish grin on his face,
“Mokke! I missed you!” Hanako beamed at her, haphazardly throwing his bags to the side and moved to her.
Nene giggled, shaking her head in faux annoyance,
“Hanako!-” He pulled her into a hug, making her squeak, “- told you to stop clinging to me like that” Nene groaned out as he held tighter.
“No!” he whined, “I don’t want to not hug you”
She manages to free an arm, and brings it to his head, ruffling his hair.
They stay like that for a few moments in silence, listening to the thundering rain continue as heavy as it had been all day. Nene’s gaze softened as she notices the tenseness oozing off of him.
“That bad of a day?” she whispers to him as she sets her hand on his neck, rubbing softly.
He nods, loosening his grip.
“The rain makes it unbearable to not be at your side, Mokke,”
Humming in agreement, she closes her eyes and leans into him.
“We don’t need to talk about it,” her voice small, barely able to hear, a tactic she has used in the past, to give Hanako control.
Nene felt the same, the uncontrollable urge to be in control, to be able to make your own decisions. Besides, when Hanako was ready, he would confide to her about his thoughts.
He nods, lifting himself off her.
He bounced back into the normal.
“Ne, Mokke, I brought noodles,” his amber eyes gleamed, “And donuts and rice cakes for dessert, how about it?”
Nene’s eyes widen at the mention of dessert, they didn’t have good-paying jobs. They were scraping by as it was.
It really must have been difficult for him to not be beside her in this weather.
She pauses, before deciding it was good to treat themselves to dessert.
Nene cheers, “That sounds nice, lets start cooking!”
Dinner was nice, they joked about current events, Kou wrote an article about the abnormal about of rabbits appearing around the city. Tsukasa was of the news because he got stuck on a lamppost, Nene briefly wonders how that boy always manages to get stuck in situations that don’t seem plausible.
The rain continued.
Nene and Hanako decided it’d be best to retire early for the night.
-
Nene Heaved a sigh as she slid her arms through her coat.
Sneaking a glance out the window to see the light rain, she shook her head.
‘I wonder how long it’ll take to walk ’ Nene thought as she zipped up, grabbed her bag and, walked to her work building entrance.
Pulling her hood over her head she made her way into the busy streets of Kagome city. It had been about 2 years and 3 months since she and Hanako ran away, leaving everyone they had loved behind. It was the only way out. After what they- no what she had done, she couldn’t bear to face them all again.
The police were going to find them eventually.
Nene clenched the strap of her bag,
Blood coated the ground, A male’s body with a kitchen knife sticking out of his chest--
Nene ripped the phone from her bag and dialed Hanako’s number. Her knees were shaking as she moved quickly, frantically trying to find somewhere away from people.
Ring
Ring
Ri-
“Hello? Mokke?” Hanako’s voice cut through the phone, her hands were barely able to keep it to her ear,
“I-” Nene stammered, gasping for air, “Fuck, I-”
“Mokke? What’s going on.”
She shook her head violently, taking notice that the rain was falling harder,
“I can’t Hanako,” inhale “I’m sorry,”
“Where are you?"
Exhale
She stiffened. Her eyes darted around her, taking in where she was.
The rain was unbearable.
“...park… near my work.”
“Breath for me, I will be there as soon as I can be,”
Click.
The phone slipped from her hands, she barely managed to catch it before it hit the ground. She pulled it tightly to her chest, screwing her eyes shut. Nene took a deep breath, before looking around her.
She needs to find somewhere dry.
Spotting an abandoned bus stop, inhaling she walks to it and sits.
Nene shivered, looking up towards the gray skies.
The weather report said it was supposed to be light showers, not thick and heavy rain. It wasn’t supposed to be like this, she was supposed to be composed, collected, calm.
She messed up. Once again. Her ruby eyes filled with tears, watching the rainfall.
Yashiro Nene never liked the rain, it was always dour. Back in middle school and high school, she’d groan when she saw the rain, it meant she couldn’t work on her plants.
Ao-chan tried to comfort her, saying that it was good, the plants were being watered. And yes- that was true, she still could rid herself of the irritation the rain brought to her.
Amane and her would study together at his house on those days.
She’d moan and bitch about how she hated math and science and that she’ll never be able to wrap her mind around it. Amane would encourage her to at least try, and then promptly tease her. Making jabs at her unnaturally thick ankles.
She remembers that Tsukasa, without fail, always barged in to bug the two of them. He had good intentions, he didn’t want them all cooped up and grumpy just because of the rain.
Amane hated the rain because he couldn’t see the stars.
He’d always be mopey when she’d have to leave for the night, His dad driving her home. His mother had always made the best donuts, more accurately, the best desserts. She and Amane have always had a sweet tooth, didn’t they?
Now she doesn't like the rain for a different reason. It was raining the night she-
The night she had killed that boy.
It rained the night she and Amane made their escape. Too many questions, too much on the line.
Nene tensed up, hearing steps walking towards her
“Mokke? Are you okay?” Hanako’s voice broke through the rain.
Nene raised her head, her hair gently swinging, as she looked up at him. Her eyebrows furrowed slightly and tears in her ruby eyes,
“What am I… doing wrong, Hanako?” she whispered, remorse flooding her voice.
Hanako stood, silently watching her, his head tilted down towards her, and shook his head.
She released a shaky sigh, her hands gripping tightly onto her skirt.
Inhale
Exhale
Inhale
Nene tightly shuts her eyes. And shakes her head sharply.
“Please, Amane…” she trails off, choking on her tears
The mention of his name, his real name, makes him tense. He grits his teeth, grimacing at her before he sits down on the bench beside her.
He was always weak to her. Bending to her every wish and request. Completely and aware of his love for her.
Hesitating, he watches her trembling before he sets his hand onto her shoulder, pulling her into his chest. She sobbed onto his navy trench coat. Gripping to it, trying to tug him even closer.
“Nothing, ” Hanako mummers softly, Nene barely hears it through the loud rain and her gasps for air, “You did nothing wrong, you only did what you had to, Mokke,”  Her new name, sharp coming from his mouth
Almost like he was… reminding her.
Nene froze, opening her eyes and looking at Hanako panicked,
“Hanako, ” her voice wobbled out, as aggressively pawed at her face, wiping her tears,
“I’m- I didn’t mean to slip up-” she squeaked out as his hand squeezed her twice,
Her ruby eyes stared into his amber ones, his glare softened. A small teasing smile forms,
“Mistakes happen, there’s nothing we can do but move forward, right, Mokke?”
Fervently, Nene nods her head, her eyebrows furrowed.
“Are you done crying,” Hanako asks softly, raising his hands to cup her cheeks
He rubs them with his thumbs, wiping the last of her tears as she nods her head with a small, albeit sad, smile.
“Let’s go home, and get you cleaned up starlight,”
9 notes · View notes
romance-geek · 3 years
Text
sleep my long, unbroken sleep (niragi x oc)
warnings: violence, blood
author’s note: it's been a long long time?? i feel like most of the hype for alice in borderland has gone now, but i've gotten the urge to write again. so sorry it took so long! i'm thinking i'll do big chapters every update since future updates will probably a while, depending on my mood. hope you like it!
summary: Kuroba Chiyori may be born in the Borderlands, but no way in hell does she want to die in it.
AO3 LINK
CHAPTER TWO: fires find a home in me
PRESENT
Chiyori crouches down behind a tree outside one of the city’s stadiums, where the lights are as bright as can be in the Borderlands, beckoning players from all over Tokyo to join. There are signs nearby to lead people into the venue. Having been a citizen for all her life and a child of two of the most ruthless Game Masters, Chiyori knows the usual haunts; where to avoid and where to flock.
As much as she likes to consider herself an independent woman (and she very much is a woman now, thank you very much!), she prefers being surrounded by people whether familiar or not. Those earlier years spent locked inside a library with only books and dust as friends truly did wonders for her touch starvation. Craving companionship, but knowing death could pry them away from her bloody fingers in a blink of an eye. Her eternal dilemma.
And that night, nearly a decade ago, a decade of murder and sin, death stole the ones who brought her to life. She who guided the fates’ scissors, who lured her parents into a game they had a hand in orchestrating.
Thus began her undoing.
She could never really recall the whole night, most of her memories were of after. Bits and pieces would flash to her mind at the most inopportune moments (resulting in many near-death experiences), and to this day she cannot say what events led to the single clear picture in her mind. Of blood, gushing like a geyser from her father’s headless neck; of his wide-eyed head with a mouth frozen in a silent scream, rolling to a still beneath the shaking legs of her mother as her pulsing entrails out of her with a katana stuck to her spine, like a sick version of a magician’s show but only nearly succeeding.
Countless deaths had she witnessed in her childhood alone, usually by the lasers that come to claim players with zero days left as she watched through her library windows while nibbling on biscuits. Yet, this was the one that had her hurling her guts, almost in tandem with her mother’s dripping entrails.
Chiyori couldn’t tell you when was the first time she witnessed death, but she remembered the first time her hands took away someone’s life.
In a bout of adrenaline, and because the rules of the game permitted her to do so (each weapon can only be used once by each player, to up the ante), Chiyori wrenched the katana her mother’s killer used and drove it straight to his heart.
Battle Royale Kill Count.
Pretty straightforward name. Like Battle Royale, except only the one with the most kills survived. It was unlike the fiction novels she had read in her little library home, not like The Hunger Games where it only mattered who survived until the end even if you barely killed anyone, or like The Lord of the Flies where an adult appears to save you in the end.
At first, no one wanted to harm her. A child in the Borderlands? Unheard of. But as the game went on, the timer ticking down, the number of players dwindling, she knew they would come for her.
So she had to come for them first.
The katana was of no use to her any longer, so she had left it on her parents’ killer’s chest as he laid facing the ceiling, like a crude cross marker for her two parents.
She spent half of the time left looking around for stray weapons, but most of what she found were close-range types. She didn’t want to risk revealing herself to the others, so she persisted in looking around.
In one of the many rooms there, she found tucked into the corner behind a pile of boxes a large jug of gasoline. Relief flooded through her body as she scrambled for it. It was perfect! She only needed to spread the gasoline around, and it would only take one match for the whole building to burn.
Speaking of matches… She smiled horrifically, her face a mess of tears and snot with blood dripping down her nose, finding a little box with a few matchsticks amidst the junk.
Chiyori ran on the tips of her toes to avoid attention, hefting the jug and pouring it everywhere she could. All of a sudden, someone violently pulled at her ponytail. The gasoline sloshed over her front and clung to her clothes as the jug crashed to the floor.
She screamed as she was dragged back by a man with desperate eyes. He held a small knife, which trembled in his hands. The man struggled to straddle her as she kicked frantically, keeping eye contact with her while seeming to be in an internal war with himself. He raised the knife up high with both hands, the dull glint of it invoking her to grasp for something, anything to defend herself with. Her fingers latched on a broken piece of wood, with splinters and nails at the other end.
With a guttural yell, akin to the sound of pigs being slaughtered, the man drops his knife to try and dislodge the wood from the side of his head. It squelched in his efforts, blood and bits of skin coating the nails. While he was distracted, she grabbed the knife and plunged it into his right eye and twisted.
Chiyori knew something was wrong with her when she relished in his pain.
He dropped to the ground as she pushed him off, taking the jug and what amount of gasoline it had left to dump it all over his writhing body. She grabbed the matchbox from her pockets. She took one stick and struck it to light.
For a moment, she stood there, transfixed in the tiny flame.
Then, she dropped it.
The man lit up in a manner of seconds, his screams reaching a crescendo as the flames enveloped him.
Vicious thoughts ran through her mind. Vengeful. Mournful.
Hysteria replaced them when the flames licked at her clothes and ignited her as well.
She tried to roll around, but the room was quickly filling up with smoke and grew with even more flames. Chiyori ran outside, flailing her arms to no avail as it only seemed to fan the fire. Finding a clear patch of floor, she dropped and rolled for what seemed like hours of agony but was probably only a few minutes until the fire was completely smothered.
Third degree burns covered her arms, part of her abdomen, and her left thigh. The clothes stuck to her skin. The smell of barbecued pork along with smoke made her dizzy.
She stood up with a pained cry and limped as fast as she could to the entrance of the game venue. From different rooms, she could hear the panic of the remaining players as they fought against the fire.
The screen that dictates the amount of kills per player chimed with each death, the only number to increase was under her name, as she lit the fire that killed them. Subsequently, the number of remaining players were slowly counting down. She kept her gaze locked onto that number. The only way the game would end was when everyone else died.
Smoke started seeping into her nostrils again. She knew it was only a matter of time until the flames were upon her once more.
Finally, the screen changed.
𝐑 𝐄 𝐌 𝐀 𝐈 𝐍 𝐈 𝐍 𝐆   𝐏 𝐋 𝐀 𝐘 𝐄 𝐑 𝐒 : 𝟎
𝐆 𝐀 𝐌 𝐄   𝐂 𝐋 𝐄 𝐀 𝐑 𝐄 𝐃
𝐂 𝐎 𝐍 𝐆 𝐑 𝐀 𝐓 𝐔 𝐋 𝐀 𝐓 𝐈 𝐎 𝐍 𝐒
The phone she grabbed at the beginning chimed in one of her cargo shorts’ pockets. When she fishes it out, the screen lit up with the following message:
【 𝙶 𝙰 𝙼 𝙴 】
♤ ♤ ♤ ♤ ♤
♤ ♤ ♤ ♤ ♤
𝐖 𝐄   𝐖 𝐈 𝐋 𝐋   𝐒 𝐔 𝐏 𝐏 𝐋 𝐘   𝐀 𝐋 𝐋   𝐆 𝐀 𝐌 𝐄   𝐒 𝐔 𝐑 𝐕 𝐈 𝐕 𝐎 𝐑 𝐒  
𝐖 𝐈 𝐓 𝐇   𝐀   𝐓 𝐄 𝐍 - 𝐃 𝐀 𝐘   𝐕 𝐈 𝐒 𝐀
The irony of her father, the King of Spades, dying at a Ten of Spades game to protect her and her mother… Were it not for Chiyori, both of her parents would still be here right now. Maybe they would’ve trained her in preparation for the games that she wanted to play since she was a child.
But now?
She wondered why she ever wanted to play.
After that game, she immediately sought help from her parents’ fellow game masters, but after her wounds were cleaned and patched she holed up in her library home with the intent to let her visa run out by itself.
Only it didn’t. Not really.
She thought she lost her sense of time when the number stayed at zero for nearly a week, only to realize that the Borderlands didn’t want its single native citizen out of its clutches. Whichever god that rules this sinful place, if there ever is one, plays with her life almost daily with its cruel tribulations, but condemns her efforts to die outside of the games. It is almost as if they want her to play in order to die.
Chiyori isn’t particularly religious, but she has often read books about religion and philosophy. When one has questions, one seeks answers, but none of the books in any library in Tokyo have ever explained the nature and laws of this place.
With the games not being necessary to her life and being the only way to die, she needn’t participate. And for a while, she didn’t want to either.
Slowly, she began to open up to her parents’ friends, but the Borderlands only took them one by one as each cycle passed until she didn’t have anyone left but herself and her books. But even books couldn’t give her the happiness it gave when she was younger. By that time, she was thirteen, still a child but now numb to the death that surrounded her. She started participating in a few games a year, to a few games a month, now nearly everyday when she realized that those deadly games were the only things that made her feel alive anymore.
Sure, she meets friends along the way, but they only die in the end. Sometimes by her hand. Such is life in the Borderlands. The sooner you accept that, the better you’ll survive.
When a good amount of people have arrived at the game venue, she stands from her hiding place and nonchalantly walks over to join them, hands tucked into her denim jacket, the leathery scar on her left thigh visible as she only wore cycling shorts.
The clunk of her combat boots prompts several of them to glance at her entrance. She coolly raises an eyebrow and runs her eyes over everybody, reading them almost like her beloved books.
Chiyori runs a finger along the table of phones, choosing one with a sleek black case. After it scans her face, she saunters to a wall and leans back to continue her survey of the other players.
“Hey, are you new here?” A guy wearing a long-sleeved neon green shirt asks her. There’s a girl with a thankfully less bright top holding his hand. Both of them are looking at Chiyori worriedly.
She gazes distastefully at his shirt. With a scoff, she asks, “What makes you say that?”
“If I may, miss,” the girl interjects, “You look like you don’t realize how dangerous these things can get… We only wish to help educate you.”
Their familiarity with each other suggests that they knew each other before ending up at the borderlands. Both of them had dyed hair, the guy sporting blond tips while the girl had long pink hair. The fact that the girl had no roots showing tells Chiyori that they must’ve only been in the Borderlands for less than three weeks.
No, Chiyori decides after a peek of inked flesh on the guy’s bicep, about as big as the size of her palm. It still has a cling film wrapped around it, so it couldn’t have been more than three to five days.
The girl knew the games were dangerous, so they played at least one, not very hard if they’re already at another. This is probably their second or third game. Most likely the second.
In spite of herself, Chiyori smiles at them. They might end up betraying her later when the game starts, but she appreciates their concern. Not that she needed it.
“Thanks,” she says. “But I think I can manage. You guys worry about yourselves, you haven’t experienced real danger yet.”
The couple looks at her, at each other, then they shrug as if to say ‘Suit yourself.’
Chiyori’s gaze drops to their locked hands as they leave to go back to their corner. A twinge of longing cuts through her.
She thinks the game should start any minute now when a guy with black hair almost to his shoulders and a few face piercings walks in hesitantly, looking around in confusion as he taps his hand against an ear. Her eyebrows go up as she checks him out appreciatively.
“He’s new,” she remarks quietly to the couple. “You guys have been here only about a few days, I can tell.”
The girl whispers, “How’d you know?”
“You guys are pretty obvious, as is that guy. How?” Chiyori nods to the guy with piercings. “Look at his hands. He’s patting his pockets, and from the shape of it it’s a phone. Where he came from, it was loud, so he’s here to watch a game but when he entered the noise was gone. So he’s new new.”
Chiyori can tell that although they’re impressed, they’re unnerved by her. As most people are. So she pushes off the wall and saunters towards the guy who is now fiddling with his phone, trying to turn it on.
The way he hunches his shoulders tells her he is a private person, so she stops a respectable distance from him. “Hey.”
He lifts his head up to look at her, eyebrows furrowed. “What?” His voice snaps, almost defensively.
She doesn’t smile at him, thinking he seemed the type of person to think it was condescending. Instead, she points with her thumb to the table where only a few more cellphones were available. “Your phone is busted. Take one of those.”
He sneered at her and says, “Fuck off.”
Rolling her eyes, she says, “We’re not in Kansas anymore, Toto. Take a phone or you’re disqualified and trust me, you don’t want to be disqualified.”
He still makes no move to the table, so she takes his busted phone with a quick movement and throws it to the entrance of the stadium. The other players watch them, not wanting to intervene.
“You bitch, what—?!” His enraged shout is cut off when a red laser beams down from the ceiling and puts a hole into the phone. “What the fuck?!”
Chiyori locks her eyes with his, smirking at the contempt that he displays for her. “You came here to watch a game, did you? Which teams are playing? Doesn’t matter. You’re not here to watch. You’re here to play.” She shoves a new phone in his hands. “Humor me, would you?”
With a glare, he turns on the phone. Almost as soon as his face is done scanning, everybody’s phones start chiming.
“Let the games begin,” Chiyori says, her excitement evident.
𝐑 𝐄 𝐆 𝐈 𝐒 𝐓 𝐑 𝐀 𝐓 𝐈 𝐎 𝐍   𝐇 𝐀 𝐒   𝐂 𝐋 𝐎 𝐒 𝐄 𝐃
𝐓 𝐇 𝐄   𝐆 𝐀 𝐌 𝐄   𝐖 𝐈 𝐋 𝐋   𝐍 𝐎 𝐖   𝐂 𝐎 𝐌 𝐌 𝐄 𝐍 𝐂 𝐄
𝐆 𝐀 𝐌 𝐄 :   𝟐 𝟎 𝟎   𝐌 𝐄 𝐓 𝐄 𝐑   𝐑 𝐀 𝐂 𝐄
𝐃 𝐈 𝐅 𝐅 𝐈 𝐂 𝐔 𝐋 𝐓 𝐘 :   𝐓 𝐄 𝐍   𝐎 𝐅   𝐒 𝐏 𝐀 𝐃 𝐄 𝐒
When the difficulty level is announced, almost everyone starts cussing or panicking, apart from Chiyori and the guy with piercings.
She is momentarily breathless as memories of another Ten of Spades game come to her, but she shoves them at the back of her mind and turns her attention to the guy. Hostile he may be, something in her wants to help him. “This is the last time I’m gonna warn you. It’s kill or be killed, alright?”
He looks at her almost like a puppy, the angry facade he keeps up down for a moment.
“Welcome to the Borderlands,” she tells him.
They enter through another entrance to go into the arena itself. She hears the guy mutter in shock when he sees the arena. Like the rest of the Borderlands, the fauna is overgrown intermixed with other weeds and plants, except for a rectangular patch of land in the center where it was just plain dirt. Ostensibly 200 meters wide.
At the end closest to the entrance they came through is a long table full of weapons ranging from bows and arrows to javelins to throwing daggers. No guns. There are three people wearing grotesque halloween masks and nondescript clothes behind the table, waiting patiently for the game to start with hands clasped.
There were 21 participants in total. You know what they say: the more, the deadlier.
The guy in neon moved to grab a weapon off the table, but one of the dealers stopped him from doing so by brandishing a machete to his face. “Shit!” He squeaks. “Watch where you’re pointing that thing!”
The dealer with the machete brings one finger up to the lips of his mask, as if to sush him, then wags the finger like scolding a child. The other dealers gesture for them to wait for the rules.
Their phones chime once again. “Rule: Players must race through 200 meters to get to the other side. Condition: Finish the race within ten minutes.”
Chiyori smiles grimly, realizing what the weapons were for. She drops her denim jacket to the floor, revealing the burns on her arms, and readies herself.
“Start.”
She sprints ahead of everyone else, zigzagging and changing direction at random intervals. Screams start to rise. Behind her, the familiar squelch of someone being stabbed urges her to run faster. Someone manages to run even faster than her, even with her head start, but who said the game is about how quick you can finish the race?
A javelin goes through the head of the player.
Not even sparing them a glance, she jumps over the body - because that’s all the player is anymore, a body - and nearly collides with the guy from before. He looks like he wants her to die, but contradicts himself when he pushes her away from a flying arrow.
She barely gasps out a whisper of gratitude before they both continue their run. The timer loudly ticks down from the stadium’s screens.
They are only a few meters away from the finish line when she notices a small movement from behind the tall grass at the other end. She grabs the guy’s arm and pulls him while still keeping them in motion, albeit going back in the opposite direction.
“What are you doing?! The finish line’s right there!” He growls.
“Look again,” she snaps at him. “Someone’s waiting for us.”
He glances back and confirms it for himself. “What the fuck kind of dystopian shit is going on here?”
“These games are never simple,” she says.
By now, there were only about half of them still alive. A few have run past the two of them already, but Chiyori knew they would regret not thinking twice. She runs to a body that has a throwing axe deep into the side of her neck.
A glance at the starting line lets her know that the masked people only have a few weapons left to throw at them, but she still remains cautious in her running patterns as she runs to a few more bodies to collect more light throwing weapons. The guy follows her example, a bloody machete in hand.
They run back to the finish line, where a few of the others have begun to realize that there was one more masked person to torment them. Their weapon of choice? An actual roaring chainsaw.
“I should have stayed home!” The guy with piercings groans.
“Would’ve been the better choice,” she agrees.
The masked person slashed their chainsaw with reckless abandon at whoever dared to come close. One of the players was using someone’s lifeless body as a shield to get closer. Another player runs to the side of the race track, but a laser immediately comes for them.
Chiyori glances at the guy with piercings, locking eyes with him, darts her eyes to the masked person then back at him. He nods.
Holding her breath, she assumes a throwing stance. She brings the axe behind her head, then extends her arm forward while at the same time letting go of the weapon while keeping her wrist and elbow firm. It sinks into the masked person’s jugular.
Trusting that the guy would take over, she whips back to face the starting line and grabs the small throwing daggers she collected in each hand. Just in time to dodge a masked person’s forward slash. She drops to the floor and rolls over, kicking them on the head to dizzy them. She jumps on their back and uses another dagger to cut their throat open.
With her legs wrapped around their torso, she rolls both of them over just as several arrows lodge onto the masked person’s chest. Heart pounding at the close call, Chiyori throws her remaining daggers and knives in rapid succession towards where the arrows came from, hoping to buy time.
She crawls to the nearest body, who is rendered nearly headless by a curved blade. She pulls it out, spraying even more blood all over herself and the floor. When she looks up, she finds a masked person struggling to remove a knife embedded into their eye socket. Stopping for a second to marvel at her blind but successful aim, she puts them out of their misery with a swing of the blade.
Chiyori looks around for the third masked person, finding them grappling with another player. She turns her gaze to the guy with piercings, who seems to have successfully dispatched his opponent. He has his hands cupped around his mouth, shouting at her, but she is too far away to hear him clearly.
“... over here!”
“What?!” She screams.
The guy runs a hand through his hair in frustration, then points furiously at the stadium screens. She follows the direction of his finger, to find that there is only less than a minute left for her to cross about 100 meters to the finish line.
With no time to waste, she tightens her grip on the handle of the curved blade and runs for her life.
Chiyori is only a few feet away when a javelin twirls through the air and nicks her calf. She nearly drops at the pain, but perseveres and limps as fast as she can.
The guy with piercings picks up his opponent’s chainsaw and turns it on with a loud roar.
He sprints for the masked person making their way to Chiyori and slices them in half jaggedly.
With only twenty seconds left on the clock, he barks for the two other players in the finish line to help him drag Chiyori to safety, but only one actually does.
They cross the finish line with two seconds to spare.
Their phones chime in unison.
𝐆 𝐀 𝐌 𝐄   𝐂 𝐋 𝐄 𝐀 𝐑 𝐄 𝐃
𝐂 𝐎 𝐍 𝐆 𝐑 𝐀 𝐓 𝐔 𝐋 𝐀 𝐓 𝐈 𝐎 𝐍 𝐒
They all pant in exhaustion, bodies slick with blood. Blood from the masked people, from the other players, from them. Chiyori can’t wait to go home and wash it all off, maybe take a week off from playing the games.
【 𝙶 𝙰 𝙼 𝙴 】
♤ ♤ ♤ ♤ ♤
♤ ♤ ♤ ♤ ♤
𝐖 𝐄   𝐖 𝐈 𝐋 𝐋   𝐒 𝐔 𝐏 𝐏 𝐋 𝐘   𝐀 𝐋 𝐋   𝐆 𝐀 𝐌 𝐄   𝐒 𝐔 𝐑 𝐕 𝐈 𝐕 𝐎 𝐑 𝐒  
𝐖 𝐈 𝐓 𝐇   𝐀   𝐓 𝐄 𝐍 - 𝐃 𝐀 𝐘   𝐕 𝐈 𝐒 𝐀
She struggles to stand, waving off any help offered to her.
Hand still gripping on the curved blade, she uses it to cut away at the long grass until she finds a small table with a single Ten of Spades card on it. Despite not having the need for it, she swipes it and hides it in her bra.
Chiyori limps back to where the others are. The guy with piercings has blood dripping down his nose, and a cut somewhere on his trunk causing the shirt he has on to cling to his form.
“Welcome to the Borderlands,” she repeats with a smile, referring to before the game started. “I’m Kuroba Chiyori. What’s your name?”
Warily, he considers the hand she offers for him to shake. He glances at her face, at her horrific smile, teeth stained with blood. He takes her small hand into his much larger one and slowly shakes it, feeling vaguely like he is making a deal with the devil.
“Niragi Suguru.”
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Love, War, and Books by GleefullyCaptainSwan Chapter 2/3
Read on AO3: | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2
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Chapter 2: Poetry and Mean Spiritedness
Emma stood in the middle of a near empty store, she sighed, stringing up the lights around the small tree in the corner of the reading area. She gazed around at the few children and their parents looking around at the books before leaving without spending a dime. Jones Books had opened at the beginning of the week and sadly had affected the customer turnout for the week.
While it was upsetting, Emma was trying to stay positive, determined that business would pick up once the shine of the new bookstore wore off and the children begged their parents to return to the store that spent time and effort to bring the stories to life that they had known and loved.
“This bloody sucks!” Will complained as he closed the register for the evening.
“We’ll be out of business before the end of the month at this rate.” Ruby whispered in his direction.
“No one is going out of business.” Emma assured, patting Ruby on the back. “It will pick up after they get tired of the terrible customer service they are getting at Jones crappy bookstore.”
“I hope so because I have rent due on the 5th.”
“Please, you’re still living in a place with rent control. I’ll be out on the streets with the amount they rip from my hands each month across town.”
“No one is going to be out on the streets. Think positive. We’ll be fine.” Emma tried to calm the nervousness in the room.
“It’s like working in a tomb here.” Will moaned.
“Wow Will, way to be positive.” Ruby teased with a groan.
He shrugged and Emma skipped away from them, trying to ignore the negative concerns from her employees. She wasn’t going to be put out of business from Jones Books!
When she arrived home that evening, her positive attitude was threatening to wane on her. The store had barely made enough money to be in the black that evening, she stepped in a puddle before entering their apartment, and the zipper in the dress she wanted to wear to the dinner this evening snagged and broke as soon as she put it on.
Groaning she sat down at her laptop as she waited for August to get done with his shower. She read the message from JR10 and her smile returned momentarily.
Lonelygirl: I find that sometimes you are the one person I want to talk to at the end of a difficult day. Is that weird? If it is, just skip over that part. I pride myself in being a positive person, but lately I’m finding it harder to find that little piece of joy before I get swallowed into a black hole of sadness. I guess what I’m trying to say is thank you for being that little piece of joy I needed tonight.
She closed her laptop as August emerged from the bathroom, towel wrapped around his waist. “I thought you were getting dressed?”
“My zipper broke.” She frowned, holding up the dress in front of her.
“So, wear that one with the flowers.”
“I hate that dress.”
“So, wear the plaid one or the one with stripes. Or the red one is nice.” He paused, looking at her closet. “Any of these is fine.”
“Yeah ok, the red one is good.”
An hour later they were in the elevator and heading to the penthouse for a publication party. They were generally dry and boring but a great opportunity to meet other writers, artists, and people in the book business.
“Maybe you can find some people to assist you in your plight tonight.”
“My plight? And what would that be?” She waited on an answer from August.
“From Jones Books, if things got tough perhaps you could find an ally to help rally support.”
“It’s not going to get to that. My store is doing just fine.” Emma replied angrily.
“I know, I don’t know why I said that, of course it’s fine.”
“There’s enough business for more than one bookstore. We’re fine.”
He kissed her cheek. “You’re more than fine, you’re absolutely fine.”
“Yeah, exactly, we’re fine.” She repeated as they stepped into the party at the top of the building unsure if she was trying to convince August or herself of the state of her business.
~*~
Killian and Milah had arrived early to the party, a friend of the family who was hosting a publishing event had invited them to join them that evening. His father told him more than once that these events were the perfect time to rub elbows with people in the book business. Free advertising, he used to tell him.
“Oh, I can’t believe that August Booth is here. I listen to him on the way to work, he is so inspiring.” Killian nodded without actually paying attention as he scanned the room, his eyes settling on a familiar face in the back corner.
Emma Swan.
His eyes grew big, and he leaned over to speak into Milah’s ear. “I’m going to get a drink.” She nodded and he slipped out of view of the woman from his rival bookstore before she could turn in his direction.
“Havana Club Rum, neat.” He gave his order to the bartender, glancing around the room to find Milah.
“Malibu and Cranberry.” He recognized her voice before he turned toward her. When he did she smiled, and her eyes grew wide. “Hey! Remember me? From the bookstore?”
“Yeah, yeah of course I remember you.”
“How’s your brother?”
“He’s good, really good.” He grabbed his drink and held it up in front of him. “I have to get back to my date, very thirsty, would hate to see her wither from dehydration.” He joked.
“You’re Killian right?” She continued and he felt the sweat start to gather at the back of his neck.
“Yes, and you’re Emma.” He said with a smile before ducking into the crowd to escape.
~*~
Emma sipped her drink as she made her way back over to August, sliding up beside him as his conversation ended.
“I can’t believe you were talking to Killian Jones.”
Emma turned toward him, “Jones, as in…”
“Jones Books.” He nodded but Emma was already making her way across the room toward the man standing at the food table.
“Jones, your name is Killian Jones?”
“Last I checked, Aye.” He shrugged, turning back to the food, and filling his plate.
“You were spying on me!” She declared loudly. “You probably don’t even have a brother.”
“You wound me Swan. Of course I have a brother. Why exactly do you think I would spy on you?” He said as if he didn’t have a care in the world who she was, which angered her even more.
“I’m your competition, which you already know or else you wouldn’t have played that little charade in my store.” She had her hands on her hips, chewing angrily on her bottom lip.
“Competition?” He said with an annoying laugh that made her blood boil. “The only reason I came into your store was because I was spending the day with my brother. I like to buy him gifts when I take him out because honestly I have no idea how else to keep his attention. At the time there was only one place in the neighborhood to buy children’s books, though as I am sure you are aware of now, all of that has changed.” He shrugged, “So I ended up in your store, and it is a charming littlestore. You probably sell $250,000 worth of books a year…”
Her eyes widened as she stepped toward him. “How did you know that?”
“I’m in the book business, obviously.” He said arrogantly.
“No, I’m in the book business, you are simply the Costco of books.”
“Ah I see, and so you think that I needed to sneak into your tiny bookstore and steal your financial ledger because I’m afraid you’ll put me out of business? Give me a break, love.” He snorted and Emma felt flustered, angry, but frozen in place.
“What?” He asked as he watched her standing in front of him, mouth agape, saying nothing.
“Killian Jones, corporate scum, destroyer of small-time virtues, enemy of the hardback novel, how do you sleep at night?” August joined her at her side and Emma forced herself to close her mouth as she stared between them.
“I sleep wonderful at night, mostly from the pills though.” A woman interrupted and jabbed her hand toward August. “You’re August Booth, aren’t you?” she paused. “I’m Milah Gold. And I loved your podcast last week about how Amazon is taking over the world.” She turned toward Killian. “This man is a literal genius.” Emma narrowed her eyes at the woman.
“Wow thank you; you have no idea how much that means coming from someone as talented as you. So often I wake up and worry that people will think I’m a fraud or a failure. But this…this is truly inspiring.” August seemed to suck the air out of the room as he continued to praise the woman standing next to her enemy.
“We need to talk more. Have you ever considered writing a book?” The woman continued and August began to shift excitedly on the balls of his feet. Emma stood stoically as her eyes made contact with the man who was trying to destroy her business. He held her gaze, not wavering from the contact until she shifted her eyes back to her boyfriend. She breathed a sigh of relief when Killian and the woman excused themselves from the conversation.
Emma couldn’t concentrate the rest of the evening. Why did she say nothing when he provoked her? Instead of standing up for herself she froze, completely shut down.
“I really liked that Milah Gold. Sure, I know she’s completely driven by money, but anyone who listens to my podcast can always be turned around.”
Emma rolled her eyes, tossing down onto her pillow and staring at the ceiling while he continued to ramble on and on about the evening.
~*~
“I can’t believe we met August Booth. He’s so interesting, don’t you think he’s interesting?” He turned over in his bed, staring at the floor. “His ideas are just so ahead of his time. No one is saying the things he’s saying.”
Killian flipped the covers off his body and stood from the bed. He was feeling uneasy, angry, guilty. Why was he feeling guilty?
“Where are you going?”
“Bloody hell woman, I’m just not tired.”
JR10: Have you ever woken up and realized that you have become the worst part of yourself? Like when someone provokes you, every arrogant, self-absorbed, condescending piece of your personality comes springing to life and attacks. Who am I kidding, you wouldn’t know what that is like? I’m the dark asshole here.
He stared at his screen, almost needing to talk to her, hoping that she was online. His heart soared when it showed she was typing.
Lonelygirl: I completely understand. I’m honestly jealous, I wish I had that in me. When I’m provoked, I freeze like a fish gulping for air, only to spend the rest of the night tossing in bed trying to think of things I should have said instead.
He laughed; he couldn’t believe how opposite they were. She was a breath of fresh air.
JR10: Perhaps I could lend you some of my retorts and you could give me your silence. Though I must warn you, when you finally provide that perfect response that digs into the subject of your attack, you will learn a new trait. Remorse.
He paused, staring at his screen, and thinking about doing something really stupid. Or possibly brilliant. He wasn’t sure which it was.
JR10: Do you think we should meet?
He hovered over the enter button, did he really think it was a good idea to meet this woman? Before he could change his mind he punched the button sending the message and closing the lid of his computer.
~*~
“He wants to meet you?” Emma groaned and leaned against the counter, Ruby staring at her from her spot in front of the shelves. “What did you tell him?”
“I wasn’t going to answer him on an empty stomach. So, I made breakfast and then chickened out and ran straight to work.”
“That’ll show him.” Will joked as he nudged her with his shoulder. “Left him on read.”
“Oh stop.” Emma whined. “I’ll answer him, later.” She sighed, walking back to her office, and staring at her invoices. Sales were down by 30% since Jones books had opened. She was never going to survive at this rate. She needed to do something drastic.
“It’s a shame you don’t know anyone with a voice to the public. Someone who knows how to tug at the heartstrings of America’s bleeding heart.”
Emma looked up to see Mrs. Lucas entering the room. “You aren’t suggesting…”
“That man candy of yours.”
“Don’t call him that.” Emma scrunched her nose and shuffled the papers in front of her.
“Come on, he’s nice on the eyes that man of yours.”
“I guess.”
“If you can only guess, then maybe you’re looking up a different tree.”
Emma’s mouth dropped, “Grans! That’s completely inappropriate.”
The woman shrugged and left the room. “I’ll take him if you’re done with him.” She hollered back as she left.
Emma was being completely unfair to August, there was no way she should meet this JR10. Things were perfect just the way they were. She loved August, he was good to her, and all she was doing was having a conversation with a computer screen.
That’s all.
Nothing more.
As soon as she got home she opened her laptop, determined that this was the right decision.
Lonleygirl: I don’t think we should meet. Why would we ruin what we have? I enjoy talking to you, you enjoy talking to me, why mess with that? Please don’t ask again.
~*~
Killian sat with his dog in his lap and his laptop sitting beside him as he read the incoming message.
“Good job Jones, you scared her.” He patted the dog’s head. “I’m officially an idiot.”
He slammed the laptop shut, unsure how to reply to the woman.
The days went by in a flurry as the store picked up steam. Every time he walked through the expansive store, it was buzzing with customers, passing over credit cards, picking up bundles of books at an affordable rate. He was saving them money, he was a goddamn hero, he thought.
But as he was standing in the checkout line at the grocery store, waiting for any sign of movement in the past ten minutes, his sour mood was making him feel anything like a hero.
“Can you believe this woman?” The man in front of him complained to his wife. “She’s trying to pay with a credit card in the cash only line.”
Killian leaned to the side, trying to see who was causing the delay when he spotted the golden hair, angry face, and an ass that would make any man’s groin twitch. He laughed, cursing his luck, but stepping forward toward her anyway.
“Do you need cash?”
She turned toward him and groaned. “Definitely not, thank you.” She growled.
“Hi, Ashley.” He smiled at the cashier. “This is Emma, I’m Killian. This is a credit card machine, is it not, Lass?” The woman stared at him, nodding with her mouth agape. “It’s the night before Thanksgiving, people are hungry, tired, and I’m sure you would prefer everyone go home so that you can get off your shift, am I right?”
The woman smiled. “It’s cash only.”
“But you have the ability to run it through. Zip zip.” He said as he pretended to push the card through the machine.
The woman took the card and groaned, “Fine.” She said as she ran it through the machine.
“Everything good now?”
“Just great.” Emma replied rolling her eyes.
“Happy Thanksgiving.” He said with a fake smile, turning his back and inserting himself into the line to a swell of cheers and pats on the back.
~*~
Emma found that she was running into Killian everywhere she went to her utter dismay. Suddenly he was at her coffee shop, grocery store, and even the gas station. When he pulled up on his stupid motorcycle she wanted to comment about how he must be overcompensating for something, but that would mean having to speak to him. So instead, she found herself hiding anytime he showed up. Sure, it was ridiculous, but she just didn’t want to face him again after the credit card incident.
As much as seeing Killian was causing her sour mood, she knew that wasn’t the only reason. She hadn’t heard back from JR10 since she told him she didn’t want to meet him. She supposed it was for the best, she never intended for it to go anywhere in the first place.
But everything seemed to be going wrong lately. Killian, JR10, her store. Emma wanted to feel happy, especially during the holidays, but instead she just felt depressed.
She stood at the store display window, watching the children walk by with their parents, snow falling softly in the background, and normally this would bring her all the joy she needed to keep from missing her mom during the holidays. Instead, the little yellow “Jones Books” bags in the hands of the happy children only brought her sadness.
When she got home, she did the one thing that had made her happy recently. She ignored the awkward feelings, sat down with her cocoa, and opened her laptop to message JR10.
Lonelygirl: I miss my mom. The holidays aren’t the same without her. I don’t think I ever told you, but my mom passed ten years ago. Fuck cancer. She always made the holidays special and I’m just really feeling down this year and I guess nothing feels special anymore because nothing is going right in my life anymore and I could really use her advice.
She got up and stood by her window, tears falling onto her cheeks. She laughed as she watched the snow falling. “Suddenly I’m a mess, mom. I miss you.”
A sound alerted her to a new message, and she wiped her face, slowly taking a seat in front of the screen.
JR10: My mother passed when I was 4. Holidays are always difficult. It was a car accident that took her, my father never really knew what to do with two young boys. Intimacy wasn’t exactly his thing. I miss her most around Christmas. She loved the snow. I don’t remember much about her, but I remember that she looked like an angel in the snow. What kind of advice do you need? Maybe I can help.
Emma smiled, happy that he had responded so quickly and didn’t mention anything about the previous awkwardness of her declining to meet him.
Lonelygirl: I don’t think you can help me.
JR10: Is it man trouble?
Lonelygirl: No definitely not. My business is in trouble.
JR10: I’m a great businessman, what kind of business do you have?
Lonelygirl: That’s rule #2 remember! No specifics.
JR10: Well, it’s going to be difficult to help without specifics, but I guess the best advice I can give you is that nothing in business is personal. It’s not personal, it’s business. Don’t go down without a fight. A man, or therefore woman, unwilling to fight for what they want, deserve what they get. You told me that you worried about not being brave in life. This is your chance. Fight to the death.
Emma closed her laptop and looked in the mirror. “It’s not personal, it’s business.” She narrowed her eyes. “It’s not personal, it’s business.” She said louder as August walked into the room.
“What’s not personal?”
“Jones Books.” She announced. “I’m going to war. And I want you to help me fight them.” August walked over and lifted her off the ground, spinning her around.
“There’s my girl. Let’s take it to the man.”
~*~
“You are what you read, save your soul, boycott Jones Books.” Killian glared at the poster attached to the window of his store. Ripping it from the glass he stormed into the store, marching to the back and into Belle’s office. “What is this crap?”
“They’re all over the streets, I’m finding them on the back of the registers, on my car. That little bookstore that none of you cared about, means business. Did you know they got that podcaster, August Booth to devote an entire hour of his next show comparing us to sharks that attack children on the beach?”
“Of course she did, I believe she’s dating the man.”
“Who is?”
“Emma, the owner of Golden Swan Books.”
“You know her?”
“Might have met her once.”
“Oh God.” Belle recoiled and reached for her remote on her desk, turning the volume up on the television above their head.
“I’m here with Emma Swan, owner of the quaint children’s bookstore Golden Swan Books. The store is struggling to remain open under the constant attack of the new super store Jones Books that opened down the block. Emma how are you?”
“Thank you for having me, you know I just want to say that Jones Books may have cheap books and wonderful coffee selections, but most of their employees have never even read a book in their life.”
Killian groaned. “She’s a real pain in the ass.”
“Is she now?” Bell mused. “I’m sure she’s not nearly as beautiful in person as she is on television.” She smirked.
“Oh no, she’s gorgeous, but a bloody pain in the ass.”
“You don’t feel bad that you are basically destroying her livelihood?”
“It’s not personal…”
“It’s business.” She finished for him.
“Besides, I’m not physically doing this, it’s the company. I’m not this big bad guy here. I’m just doing my job.” He complained. “I sell discounted books. So, sue me. Because of me, more people get to…OH MY GOD…buy books.” He dramatically paced the office, his hands flailing as Belle looked on with a smile. “What?”
“Nothing.” She shrugged, looking back down at her computer.
When Killian left the store an hour later it was to a line of people holding signs and screaming in his face. “One, two, three, four, we don’t want this superstore.”
~*~
Emma stared at the papers in front of her. “Wait, so it made no difference at all?”
“Sorry, dear, doesn’t look like it. In fact, we’ve lost more this month than we did the previous three before their store even opened.”
Emma exhaled loudly. “So, we lost?” Her shoulders hunched and she felt the air inside of her deflate. “What would mom do?”
“I don’t know, dear, but the store looks lovely.”
Emma smiled weakly as the woman left the office, slumping against her desk, she cried softly. She walked home in the rain, not even bothering to shield herself from the conditions. By the time she reached her apartment her clothes were soaked to her skin, her hair dripping onto the tile floor, and her tears were drowned by the moisture.
Sinking down at her desk, she opened her laptop and typed.
Lonleygirl: I need help. Do you still want to meet?
Emma tapped her nails on the keyboard, waiting anxiously for a reply. It didn’t take long for her to get one.
JR10: I’m happy to help. Do you know the Diner on 83rd? Friday, 7pm?
“Wait, you’re meeting him?” Ruby gaped.
“Like in person? That’s bloody dangerous, Emma.” Will scolded.
“You both are being ridiculous. We’re meeting in a public place. It’s fine.” She folded her arms across her chest and turned toward the older woman in the room. “Tell them Grans.”
“There are worse ways to meet men.” She laughed.
“Did you tell August?” Ruby inquired.
“No.” She said as she lowered her head. “He’s out of town this weekend. Some podcast convention in Los Angeles.”
“Aye, so that makes it alright to meet strange men you’ve been chattin’ with online?”
“I’m not going to stay long; we’re just eating food. That’s all.” She protested as Will made a gesture that indicated a sexual act. Emma groaned and punched him in the shoulder. “You’re disgusting. It’s just dinner. That’s all. 45 mins, an hour, tops.”
~*~
“I’m not even going to stay that long.” Killian protested as he and Belle walked the darkened streets.
“So how does this work? How are you going to know who she is?”
“She said she’ll have a book with a single rose.”
“A book, are you sure she doesn’t already know who you are?”
“It’s a common thing, from a book or something.” He mused and Belle rolled her eyes. “Do you think this is ridiculous, am I purposely trying to destroy a good thing with Milah?”
“Well, you do have a tendency to ruin things that could possibly lead to a future.” She laughed. “But I haven’t quite figured out why you and Milah are still together, honestly.”
“I love her.”
“Do you? Because I kinda think if you did, you wouldn’t be meeting up with random women you’ve been talking to online.”
Killian stopped walking and looked up at the door to the restaurant. “I can’t do this.” He started to turn away before spinning back toward the restaurant. “God, why do I need to meet this woman so badly that I can’t walk away?” He looked over at Belle. “Go look. Tell me if you can see her.”
“Oh, for goodness sake, Killian. Do you want me to go in and have dinner with her too?”
“Only if she’s horrid.” He teased. “Please, Belle.” She climbed the stairs, peering through the window. “Do you see her?”
“Oh wow, she’s gorgeous.” Belle grinned. “Oh wait, no flower. Sorry.”
“Lass, this woman is a marvel. Even if she looks like her smiley face icon on discord, I may have no choice but to upend my life and marry her tomorrow.”
“Wait, I see a book.” Belle squealed, “And a flower…” She moved around the window. “The waiters in the way.” She peered again through the window. “Oh. Um…”
“What is it? Blonde, Brunette…is she a red head?”
“She’s gorgeous.”
“Bloody hell, I knew it.” He yelped.
“Yeah, definitely. I would say she’s as beautiful as Emma Swan.”
“The bookstore woman?” He asked confused.
“You said she was attractive.”
“Why are we even talking about Emma Swan right now?”
“Because, if you don’t like Emma Swan, you’re definitely not going to like this woman.”
“Why not?” Killian growled.
“Because she is Emma Swan.” Killian ran up the stairs, pushing himself against Belle and peering into the restaurant.
“Bloody hell.” He watched as Emma sat at the table, a soft smile across her lips, adjusting the book and the flower on the table as she nervously watched the door. Killian sighed and turned away from the door, walking back to the sidewalk.
“Where are you going?” Belle said loudly. “You’re just gonna let her sit there alone?”
“Yes, that’s exactly what I’m going to do.”
“But she’s lonelygirl, you were desperate to know who she was just ten minutes ago.”
“Goodnight Belle.” He said sadly, walking back toward his apartment.
~*~
Emma stared anxiously at the door, inspecting every person who walked through the entrance. When a tall man entered, smiling at her as he turned the corner, she stood up to greet him only for another woman to rush toward him, pulling her into his arms. Emma sat down, feeling dejected, her stomach tied in knots from disappointment. She couldn’t believe JR10 stood her up.
Maybe he was too good to be true.
“Ma’am, do you want your check?”
“No, can I have another glass of wine, please.” The waiter smiled and nodded sadly at her.
“Excuse me Ma’am.” Emma looked up excitedly at a young man standing next to her table. Ok he was a little younger than she expected, but age didn’t matter, right? “Are you using this chair?”
Emma narrowed her eyes as he started to remove the other chair from her table. “Put it down.” She bit her lip. “Sorry, I’m using it, I have a date, he’s coming.” The man apologized and Emma hollered after him. “He’s late.” She groaned as the door swung open and she felt like everything was moving in slow motion until it came to a screeching halt.
Killian Jones. Are you fucking kidding me?
He walked past her table, and she saw him react when he recognized her. His hands traced her table before picking up her book and making a face. She grabbed it from his hands and placed it back on her table. “Do you mind?”
“Not at all.” He said, taking a seat across from her.
“I’m sorry, but that seat is taken.”
He looked around with an air of arrogance, “Is he invisible? Do you have an invisible friend now?” He stood and apologized to the chair.
“Would you please leave.”
He had the nerve to bow, which made her blood boil. But instead of walking away, he took the table behind her, sitting down and leaning closer to her. “You know I’ve read that book.”
Emma looked down at her book. “You’ve read Pride and Prejudice?”
“I think you’d find a lot of things surprising about me, if you actually knew me.”
Emma glared at him, “If I got to know you I bet I’d find a cash register instead of a brain and instead of a heart, a bottom line.” Her mouth dropped.
“What’s wrong?” He replied after seeing the look on her face.
“I just did something I’ve never been able to do before. When confronted by a terrible and insensitive person, I knew exactly what to say, exactly at the right time.”
“I must agree, congratulations, it was the perfect mixture of poetry and mean spiritedness.”
“Mean spirted? I beg your pardon?”
“Don’t be offended, I was paying you a compliment, lass.”
“Please leave, I beg you.” She said on the verge of tears.
She reached into her purse, pulling out her handkerchief and dabbing the corners of her eyes.
“You know what that reminds me of? The first time we met.” He said reverently.
“You mean the day you lied to me when you were spying on me.”
“Hey, I never lied to you.”
She snorted. “Yeah whatever helps you sleep at night.”
The door opened and they both turned toward the door. A short man with an angry face entered the room. “I’m going to venture a guess that this is not him either. Who could your mystery man be? Will you be mean to him too?”
“Of course I won’t because the man I’m meeting is nothing like you. He’s kind and sweet and a much better man than you.”
“Except that he’s stood you up, it’s bad form to leave a lady waiting.”
“If he’s not here, then he has a good reason. Because there isn’t a mean bone in his entire body. But you wouldn’t know that because you’re just a jerk in a leather jacket who thinks he’s better than everyone else.” She turned away from him, crossing her arms over her chest.
“And that’s my cue to leave.” He said softly, in a voice that sounded almost disappointed. But Emma didn’t care, all she wanted was to be alone.
~*~
“Somewhere inside that hard exterior must be the same woman who writes to you online, maybe underneath it all she’s just…”
“A real bitch.” He replied to Belle. “Can we not talk about Emma Swan? I’m going back to the office.” He said with annoyance, walking out of the back office and slipping out of the store onto the street. He hated that this woman was still driving him mad. She was a thorn in his side, infuriating, and troublesome and yet all he could think about was the way she wrote to him, the way he waited anxiously just to see that message pop up on screen.
More than anything, he missed her.
~*~
“So, he stood you up?” Ruby said angrily.
“Or he got injured.” Emma interjected and Will laughed. “Seriously, what if he had an accident on the way to restaurant? What if he’s lying in a hospital bed right now?”
“What if he’s a bloody murderer and he was meeting up with you to kill you?”
“Will!” Ruby exclaimed.
“I’m not bloody kidding, remember that murder at my apartment a few weeks back? They caught the guy, last night!” He pulled out his phone, searching for the information and holding up the screen to show them a picture of the man who was arrested the previous night.
“Oh my God.” Emma said cupping her hand over her mouth.
“Emma, that’s not him.” Ruby said rolling her eyes.
“But what if it is.”
“You’re making excuses, so you don’t feel sad about getting stood up, I get it, I do.”
Emma frowned; she knew her friend was right. She was sad, and maybe a little bit angry at JR10 for standing her up. Even though he hadn’t sent her a message since last night, perhaps she needed to let him know how she felt.
Lonelygirl: I’m thinking about you. Last night I went to meet you and you didn’t show up. I wish I could understand why. I feel like such a fool. But while I waited for you to arrive, another man showed up. A man who has effectively been trying to ruin my professional life. But the most amazing thing happened, for the first time in my life, I was able to say exactly what I wanted at exactly the right time. But just as you said, I immediately felt regret for saying them. I was mean, and I’m never mean. And even if it didn’t hurt him, because honestly, he just thinks of me as a bug to crush under his feet, but what if it did hurt him? I behaved badly and that made me sad. Anyway, I just wanted you to know that I consider you a dear friend, and I hope you had a good reason for not being there tonight, but if you didn’t and we never speak again, then I want you to know how much this time with you has meant to me. How much it has meant just to know you were there.
Emma shut down her laptop, wiping the tears from her eyes and crawling into bed.
~*~
Killian paced in front of his desk, reading the message from Emma again. He stopped for a moment, glaring at the screen before walking away and getting a bottle of rum from his kitchen. He poured a glass and took a sip. He wasn’t going to reply to her. He would just let it end this way and be done with this charade.
He poured another glass and walked toward his desk, turning sharply, and heading to the living room. Sitting down on the couch he turned on the television and his vision blurred to the sounds of some mindless television show playing out ridiculous scenes on screen.
Sipping his glass, he swallowed, the warm liquid coating his throat as it slid into his belly. “Fuck.” He cursed, standing up and walking back to his desk. Looking at the screen he re-read the message from Emma for the fourth time that evening.
Fine, he thought. I’m actually going to do this.
JR10: I’m in Vancouver.
He laughed and hit the backspace button, deleting what he had written.
JR10: I was stuck in a meeting; a microburst took out the entire block so there was no way I could reach out.
“Ridiculous.” He said out loud, erasing the message again.
JR10: I cannot explain what happened last night, but I feel terrible, love. I wasn’t there for you and instead I caused you more pain. I’m sure that whatever you said last night was provoked, even deserved. You expected to find someone you trusted and met the enemy instead. I truly am sorry; the fault is mine alone. I hope that one day I will be able to explain to you what happened, in the meantime, I’m here for you. Please talk to me.
~*~
“So, he didn’t tell you why he didn’t show up?”
“Nope, just that he would explain another time.”
“Sounds like a scam to me.” Ruby said, biting her lip.
Mrs. Lucas cleared her throat. “What have you decided, dear?”
Emma frowned, sipping her tea slowly. “I don’t think we have a choice. We’re going to have to close.”
“Emma, I’m so sorry.” Ruby offered beside her.
“I feel like such a failure, like I’m just giving up, letting him win. It feels like mom is…”
“Oh, sweet girl, closing the store doesn’t keep her alive. No matter how much you want it to.”
Emma cried that evening, staring at empty shelves, barren walls, a darkened store that would forever be gone. She imagined her mother, looking down at her while she danced in circles around her legs. Had she really lost or was this just her being brave? Maybe trying something new was the brave thing to do? Letting go of the past, her safety net.
As she sat across from August, staring at him while he spoke between bites, she realized that for the first time in her life, she could be anything that she wanted.
“I have an Amazon prime account.” She announced.
He paused, “What?”
“I know, I know, they are evil incarnate, but when I buy something, I get it the next day and that’s pretty awesome and I should have told you, but I didn’t.” She let the statement hang in the air.
“Since when do you shop online?”
“I know, I suppose you could never be with someone that buys items online from large corporations.”
He laughed. “Forget about it, I forgive you. It’s fine.”
Emma glared at him. “You forgive me?” She took a long drink of her wine while August stared at her with concern growing on his face.
“What’s wrong Emma?” Suddenly the dam burst, and tears started to stream down her face. “Hey, don’t do that. Emma, it’s alright. This has been a tough week with the store closing.”
“It’s not that though, August, I need…”
“That was insensitive of me.”
Emma sniffled. “What was?”
“To bring up the store, when you’re having a hard time and I’m the one who’s…” He took a quick drink and reached out to take her hand. “Emma I don’t know how to say this. I think you are an amazing person, and honestly I’m so honored that you chose me because I know that means something to you and…”
“You don’t love me.” She said suddenly realizing what he was trying to tell her. He frowned, squeezing her hand and Emma burst into a fit of giggles. “That’s wonderful news, I don’t love you either.”
“But we’re so right for each other.” He mused.
“I know, it doesn’t make sense. Is there someone else?”
“Nothing that’s happened, but there is a woman, I don’t know. What about you? Is there someone else for you?”
Emma sighed sadly. “No, but there is the dream of someone else.”
19 notes · View notes
honey-dewey · 4 years
Text
Five Car Pileup
Pairing: Jack ‘Whiskey’ Daniels/Reader
Word Count: 2,162
Warnings: Where to start? Probably medical inaccuracies, amputation, car accident, blood, gore, mentions of needles, mentions of death, Jack gets depressed but not for long, the reader has to cut Jack’s arm off without painkillers, but surprisingly no one dies, and I do promise it has a happy ending. This one’s harsh y’all, proceed with caution.
Permanent Taglist: @phoenixhalliwell @star-wars-hell
Nothing marks a day as ‘bad’ like having a painful 24 hour shift, two patients die in your care, and at the last ten minutes of your shift, a five car pileup where at least one man was severely injured. However, that man is your former boyfriend Jack Daniels, and boy oh boy is he in trouble. 
Short A/N: PLEASE pay attention to the warnings! This story is a doozy! Be careful, drive safely, and stay safe! 
You took a breath, leaning against the ambulance and finally scrubbing your hands down your face. This was why you didn’t wear any heavy makeup during night shifts. Mostly because no one cared, but partially so you could rub your face without worry.
The night had been unnecessarily long. You’d started working almost twenty four hours ago, and the constant work was starting to weigh on your shoulders. Two patients had died today, both while you were in the room with them. One had been an old woman who’d been battling cancer for years now, and the other had been a teenager who’d asked you to hold her hand as she passed. It was horribly taxing, and all you wanted to do was go home and make some tea, maybe curl up on the couch with a sappy movie or something while you slept away the past 24 hours.
A chiming brought your attention back, and you checked your watch, breathing out. Ten minutes until your shift was over. Ten minutes. Ten minutes.
And then your pager went off.
“Shit!” You yelled, grabbing it off your waist and looking at it. Swearing even more, you flagged down a paramedic running to the ambulance you were leaning against. The hospital was understaffed, as always, and they needed you to make a run with the paramedics. Something about a severe car accident, estimated five cars with at least one man badly injured. Groaning loudly, you hopped into the ambulance as it took off, sirens wailing. Of course. Of course you had an emergency within the last ten minutes of your shift.
The wreck wasn’t too far out, which was nice. You’d hate to be in charge of any patient for an hour long ride to the hospital. As the ambulance pulled to a stop, you jumped out, going into work mode. Car wrecks weren’t an uncommon event, and you’d had your fair share of wreck patients. Either they were ridiculously over-exaggerated or horribly under-exaggerated. Either way, this would be bad.
Taking in the wreck, you counted the vehicles. Five, as expected. Two trucks, two cars, and one SUV. The other paramedics began to examine the people standing on the side, a fire truck pulling up along with a handful of cop cars.
“There’s still someone trapped in there!” A woman with three kids by her side said to you as you circled the wreck. “He got my kids out, but he’s stuck and we can’t get him out.”
You nodded to the woman, seeing a wayward boot sticking out between the flipped cab of one of the trucks and the scraped door of a car. “I see him!”
Getting on your stomach, you managed to wiggle into the wreck, army crawling against the glass scattered ground. Calling out to the other paramedics and the firemen, you found the victim.
Scooting so you were parallel to the body, you reached out and managed to flip the head towards you, gasping. Jack Daniels, an old flame of yours. Blood stained the side of his head, and one eye was swollen shut. Every inch of skin that you could see was grimy and scattered with glass shards. He blinked his left eye open, a tiny, wavering grin blossoming as he saw you. “Hello darling. Here to rescue me?”
“Yes Jack,” you said calmly, hearing the firemen begin to move the truck above you. “Where does it hurt?”
Jack winced. “Arm. Right one. I think it’s stuck.”
“Okay,” you said, looking around. There was space to Jack’s left, and you moved out from his right so you could lay on his left. There was nothing separating you now, and you were able to take Jack’s heart rate and blood pressure, all while slowly treating his other, smaller wounds. Finally, you could face it no longer. You had to check the worst of the damage.
“Alright, let me see that arm,” you said, shimmying down so you were close to his arm. It was, as assumed, stuck. The SUV door had broken off and was now laying on Jack’s arm right near the shoulder, the thin strip of metal pressing into his skin not giving you any hope. “Jack.”
“That’s my name.”
“Jack the arm has to go.”
Silence. It was the unfortunate reality. Nothing could save him now. “The other paramedics can get you out, but this arm is too stuck. The SUV door isn’t going anywhere, and if I don’t take it off.”
The unsaid threat hung heavy in the air. Jack took a breath, and you could see his chest rise as he considered his options. “Will it hurt?”
“Like nothing you’ve ever experienced,” you said softly, words getting caught on your unusually tight throat. You’d scooted back up so you and Jack were face to face. The sound of another car being moved, exposing your back, crunched through the air.
Jack turned his face to look at you, swollen eye leaking tears. “Just do it.”
You nodded, taking his trapped hand and kissing it, wanting his last experience with both hands to be, at least, mildly pleasant.
“Let me go see if we have painkillers,” you said slowly, rolling out from the wreck.
Standing to face the paramedics, you explained the situation. They’d have to pull him out as soon as you were done if there was going to be any chance for him to survive. Grabbing a syringe full of the strongest painkillers you could find and a battery powered saw, you took a forced breath and got back under the car.
Jack was waiting, taking deep, slow breaths. “Hey darling.”
“Hey Jack,” you said, wiggling around until you could securely give him the painkillers. “How’s work been?”
“Oh, y’know,” Jack mumbled, wincing as you stuck him. “Same old, same old.”
You nodded. A while into your relationship, Jack had trusted you with the true secret of his job. You had never visited the Statesman secret service building, but the stories were amazing and usually hilarious. “Think they’ll be able to make you a fancy new arm?”
Jack chuckled weakly. “Yeah. All the bells and whistles.” He was quiet for a minute as you tried to still your shaking hands. “Darling?”
“Yeah?”
“When this is all over,” Jack said slowly, so slowly you feared he was losing consciousness. “How about a date? Out to that old restaurant you liked, the one where they had all their herbs and veggies growing out back.”
You smiled, reaching a hand through the shattered SUV window and caressing Jack’s face. “I’d like that Jack. I’d like that a lot. You survive this, and I’ll absolutely go out with you again. I do miss our conversations.”
Jack grinned, his one open eye blinking slowly. “Yeah. Sounds good.”
You moved back down, calling out to the paramedics who no doubt had a grip on Jack’s body and were waiting for you to do your job. “Ready!”
“Ready!” The call back was horrifying, and you positioned the saw above the line where the arm was trapped. From this angle, it would be tricky, but possible.
“Ready,” came Jack’s weak voice, and you shut your eyes tight for a split second before gathering yourself, putting on a brave face and your work emotions, and doing your damn job.
It was agony. Jack screamed, a horribly pained scream that tore at his throat and made you want to cry. He flailed, broken pleas for you to stop bubbling in between the screaming. The other paramedics held his limbs, securing him down so he didn’t screw up your hack job. You hoped the three children couldn’t hear as you kept going, working through skin, muscle, and bone. Jack’s continued screams made your blood run cold as you did your job quickly, finally able to shout “pull!”
Jack disappeared from your view as you collapsed onto the ground. Blood stained you from head to toe, and it took two men to help you to your feet. As you stumbled across the bloodied asphalt, your knees weak, two firemen took you and got you as clean as possible, wrapping you in a shock blanket and reassuring you that everything was okay. The mother with her two kids was gone, blissfully, but a few other spectators had remained, each visibly shaken by what they’d just heard and seen.
The ambulance with Jack in it was already gone by the time you were back in focus. “He’s gonna be okay?” You rasped, leaning against a paramedic you knew well.
Lawrence nodded. “He’ll be fine. C’mon, let’s get you home.”
In the end, you did go home. For almost twelve hours, you slept on the couch, making Lawrence swear to call you if anything happened to Jack. No such call came, so when you stumbled into work the next day, you were unsurprised but overjoyed to find Jack alive and recovering slowly. He was still unconscious, and was mostly being kept alive by machines, but you were ecstatic to see his heartbeat steady on the monitor.
“Hey you,” Lawrence said, coming up behind you. “You did good yesterday.”
“Didn’t feel good,” you said, avoiding looking at the thick white bandages that covered Jack’s hacked at shoulder.
Lawrence sighed. “He’s alive,” he reminded you. “Because of you. The boys and I were talking. None of us would’ve had the courage to crawl into that wreck and cut his arm off at that angle.”
You shrugged. “I’m never doing that again.”
“I bet.”
It took Jack months to recover enough for visitors. He was in your section, meaning you were taking care of him. For almost two months he was silent and mostly unresponsive, only really ever turning his head and shrugging when he had to. The wound healed nicely, and by the end of month three, you deemed him okay for visitors.
His first visitor was a woman in a neat button up. She was holding a white box and you recognized her very faintly.
“You can call me Ginger,” she said when you asked for her name. You nodded, suddenly remembering her. Ginger. One of Jack’s coworkers.
Jack was happy to see Ginger. He didn’t smile, but his posture shifted. Ginger set the box on the bed near his feet. “Daniels. How’s the hospital been treating you?”
“Better than the Statesman med center,” Jack said, and you grinned. That was the man you knew, sass and snark.
Ginger sat in a chair. “Well, you’ll be pleased to know that, while the hatter wasn’t happy to hear you destroyed his favorite hat, he made you a new one.” She opened the box and pulled out a pristine cowboy hat. Gently placing it on Jack’s head, she gave the brim a playful flick. “There’s the cowboy we’re all missing at work.”
Jack sighed, ducking his head down. With a jolt, you realized he was smiling. Jack was smiling again.
Another month passed, during which Jack returned to his former attitude. He attended PT daily, often with you beside him as he swore loudly while trying to maneuver the fake kitchen the physical therapy department had with one hand. When he was finally cleared for discharge, you went to your boss with a request.
“I want to be transferred,” you said. “Just for the time being, until Daniels returns to work. I want to be made his primary carer.”
It took some negotiating, but you walked out of the office with a new job. Jack put his arm around you as he waved to the various nurses and doctors who had saved his life, walking out of the hospital for the first time in months.
Your first stop was Statesman.
Champ was, as expected, sympathetic. Ginger was happy to see Jack back at work, and Tequila made exactly one stump joke before you kneed him in the dick and told him to fuck off.
Ginger also insisted on getting some scans and measurements of his shoulder. You held his left hand while Ginger uncovered the unsightly wound. He hissed at the contact, but Ginger kept her touch nice and light as she worked.
“I can build a prosthetic,” she decided finally. “It’ll function just like your old arm, and we can even build a flesh sleeve so it’ll look the same. I don’t think I can give it pain receptors though.”
Jack shook his head, sliding his shirt back on. “That’s fine. Don’t need anything fancy.”
You smiled, opening the door and taking Jack’s hand as he waved goodbye to Ginger.
“I believe I promised you a date,” Jack said as you two walked away from the Statesman infirmary, still hand in hand.
“I believe you did,” you said, following Jack through the building. “But I’m driving.”
Jack grinned, and you were glad, despite your fears months ago, that you’d been brave enough to step up and take the charge to save Jack’s life. “Well then, what are we waiting for, darling?”
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