#To go somewhere sunny and just forget for a while... | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

starrysvn · 6 months

Text

angel | park seonghwa

pairing: fem!reader x non idol!park seonghwa

genre: soulmate au

word count: 3.5k

warnings: mentions of food, fluff

playlist: inception - ateez, francesca - hozier, unknown/nth - hozier

networks: @cromernet

author’s note: happiest birthday to my lovely star bai @hwaightme , i love you more than words can say <3 i hope today has been filled with nothing but happiness and laughter and love. thank you for being a precious friend and my partner in delulu. ilysm, sending the biggest warmest hugs <33333 please enjoy this delulu frankenstein

masterlist | navi

“Are you quite sure we should be doing this?”

The night was drawing to an end, and so was your wit. You could no longer stand to be in the suffocating ballroom, the amount of people spinning around was making you dizzy to the point of nausea. That was when he offered you a way out, seeing you struggle to maintain composure while sitting all alone.

“Absolutely not,” you heard the smirk in his voice while he led you out to the garden, sure you were following after him.

“How irresponsible of you to draw a young lady away to a dark secluded corner of a garden,” he laughed. “Should I be fearing for my life?”

When he stopped walking you almost ran into him, looking around to see you standing in the heart of the English Garden of the palace. During the night it was almost dreadful, as opposed to its beauty in the daytime, if it weren’t for the few scattered lights.

“Not at all,” he turned, but you couldn’t see his face. The thought confused you only for a second, for you knew this man. You trusted him with your life. He reached for your hand, holding it in his warmer one. “Not long, now.”

“Not long,” you whispered back, your surroundings slowly fading as he pressed his lips to yours.

Sometimes it was more than just a dream, you could feel it in your bones. It lingered during the day, the unshakable conviction that it was all true. That it had been true. It could not have been just your mind making up the ballroom dancing, whispered poems and a soft piano echoing during a sunny afternoon. So you wrote it all down in letters you kept under your bed. Most times the dreams had already escaped your memory, so all there was were jumbled thoughts scribbled quickly before even those could fade away. Other times, you woke up in the middle of the night, so convinced you were still there, still surrounded by warmth and love you never dared imagine could exist. Your hand blindly reached for the notebook you kept on your nightstand, chasing after the vivid imagery in your head.

The words you kept closer to your heart were the ones he whispered one night, you could hear vivid chatter from somewhere far away and the evening breeze making goosebumps erupt on your skin. But he was there, standing tall and faceless beside you, his hand guiding yours to his lips.

“Farewell, my angel,” he had whispered against your knuckles before you woke up.

In shades of dark and moonlight, you waited for the distinct feeling of the lingering feather-like kiss to vanish, both hoping it would and wishing it wouldn’t. Alone in your bed you hesitated to turn and reach for the notebook like you usually would; you had the feeling you could never forget the way his voice spoke the words that made every hair stand on ends.

And you never did, for each night you would be in his company in dreamland and, each night, he would call you his angel. He showed you a world of colors, of hushed whispers in the dark, a warm murmur by your ear as he enveloped you in his arms. It was all you ever wished to hear in the daylight rather than just inside your head.

It was another day waking up itching to know more, wanting to know if you were going insane or if this was the twisted way in which fate had decided to assign you your soulmate. All you had ever had were dreams that made no sense, yet gave you hope. Even when you did not know where to start, if to even dare at all.

There was little you could do, really, except live in a dream. Because even as you made your way down a busy street, en route to work, chopped away whatever you needed for lunch or dinner, every other thought was stuck on him. This illusion of a perfect man who faded as moonlight gave way to another day. Sometimes it felt so real that it was hard to discern from reality itself. The phantom brush of a hand, the faint memory of a scribbled note, of his contagious laughter. It was as if you could hear them, as if they refused to go and stay where they belonged.

But you couldn’t live in a dream, could you? You could hold out for however long it took, but you could not give up life in the meantime.

“I swear, just trust me!” Your colleague would not give up. The constant nagging had become almost unbearable, so much so that it made you want to give in. “One date and if it sucks, I’ll leave you alone forever, I pinky promise.”

The copier rapidly dished out the papers you needed to bring back to your desk, giving you the perfect excuse not to look up at San. You sighed, he had been on a mission to get you to go out with this guy for a while now. He swore up and down that you two were destined, but you usually were able to dissuade your colleague pretty fast. Not today, it seemed.

“Listen,” busying yourself counting the copies, you won another few short seconds before the time came to face San’s begging eyes. “Just one coffee?”

“Please, please, believe me you guys would be perfect togeth- hold up,” smile opening up on his lips, eyes shiny and wide, San almost did a double take. “Are you saying yes?”

Sighing again, you fiddled with the top corner of your papers - that you were now hugging to your chest - before nodding.

“One date,” you agreed, holding up your pointer finger right in front of his face. “And you have to stay near in case he’s weird and I need to escape.”

Proud of the conditions you laid down, you watched as San furiously nodded along, albeit a little offended that you’d think I’d set you up with some random weirdo. Thus, he ran back to his desk, murmuring about texting his friend. You let out one last sigh before returning to your station, too.

You hoped you’d made the right choice.

The first hints of autumn were making themselves known, a cooler breeze than usual surprising you as it caressed your face upon walking out the glass doors, the sun already on its way to set. You hid your face a little further into the scarf around your neck, walking out of your workplace beside San.

It had been a week since you gave into his pleading and he’d been very secretive about the infamous date. You were starting to worry. Maybe his friend had said no? Or was he planning something elaborate? Was he not saying anything because, really, this friend of his truly was just some weirdo?

You were pulled out of your thoughts by San himself, catching him wave and say something along the lines of there he is. He quickly found your elbow, gently hitting it with his, snapping you back to reality. You barely caught any detail of the man walking towards the two of you.

“Alright, that is the friend I was telling you about,” your head snapped into San’s direction, eyes wide as saucers. “Looks like you’re going on a date.”

Your friend was smiling his Cheshire grin, making you want to wipe it clean off his face.

“Choi San, this is an ambush!” You yelped, alarmed by his quiet giggling and eyebrow wiggling. “High treason even, could you not warn me at least-”

“Hi.”

Stood there, wrapped in a warm looking coat, was quite possibly the most gorgeous man you had ever seen. His smile was timid but friendly and his eyes were just as bright and warm, reflecting the lights from the lamppost. A few strands of wavy, chocolate hair fell delicately just above them.

“Well, I’ll leave you guys now, have fun!”

Oh, you were going to kill San.

“Hi,” you greeted, eyes leaving the retreating figure of your friend to focus back on the man in front of you.

“I’m Seonghwa, San’s friend,” he smiled again, melting your heart a little just by the sound of his voice. “It’s nice to meet you and I apologize for the suddenness of this all… it appears he didn’t need help with document boxes after all.”

“He sure didn’t,” you tried to keep the bitterness out of your voice, for it was San’s brilliant planning that landed you here, not his friend’s. So, you introduced yourself as well, suggesting to go to your favorite cafè just around the corner and trying to take the surprise blind date in stride.

“It’s the only place I could think of,” you said, almost apologetic as you sat down. Truth was, the little hole in the wall cafè was special to you. It housed memories of tranquil mornings where you got there early enough to sit down for a coffee before work, joyous lunches with friends to celebrate achievements, quiet afternoons spent in the company of your favorite books. Your feet had taken you here on auto-pilot.

“It’s lovely,” his smile could melt snow, you figured right then and there, after he’d looked around with curious eyes to the unique decor and shelves of literature, poems and papers.

Seonghwa was just as San had described him, after all. He made sure to open the door for you as you entered the cafè, he asked your order so he could go up to the register while you found a table you liked and even offered to pay. He was charming and a great listener, and he had managed to make you laugh until tears pooled in your eyes. It was so warm to be around him, easy to talk to as if you’d known him your whole life, almost as perfect as two puzzle pieces fitting together.

When it was time to leave you almost didn’t want to. You wanted to stay there with him and keep talking, keep sharing your interests and favorites, exist inside the cozy bubble that had formed around you two. So, with the promise of another date and Seonghwa insisting to at least walk you to the nearest bus stop, you went home.

“I’ll see you soon,” he said, taking you by surprise when he dipped down to land a kiss on your cheek before you could get on the bus. It stayed with you, making you feel like a teenager all over again.

You went through the motions of preparing dinner and getting ready for bed as if floating on a cloud, barely believing you had it in you to feel so light. And if, while laying down on your bed with the lights off, you had felt so full of hope for something good, happiness and giddiness enough to make you giggle to yourself, then you woke up the following morning as empty as ever. A foreign hollow in your chest, that you had trouble identifying, was steadily painting everything gray, from the breakfast you made to the commute home. It was only then, sitting on the bus staring out to the traffic, that you realized you hadn’t dreamt of him that night. For the first night ever, you weren’t chasing after his fading figure.

Each night you went to bed hoping to hear his voice and see on which adventure sleep would take you. Then, each morning you woke up well rested and clear-headed: no more piecing together the fragments of dreams you couldn’t remember, no more trying hard to see the face of the man that made you feel loved. Months of empty nights went by until, with time, you even forgot to remember him unless you stumbled upon your notebook.

“You seem quiet today,” Seonghwa piped up, still browsing through the vinyls in front of him.

“I was just thinking,” you shrugged, making your way over to him and taking his hand in yours. His smile, soft and contagious, made your heart flutter. Still focused on his search, now led with one hand only, he intertwined your fingers. It was at times like these, when he would kiss the back of your hand, that you wondered.

“About what?”

Finally, he looked at you, eyes bright and welcoming and saying what his words hid: you can tell me anything. You just shook your head, smiling back at him, shrugging as if the wandering thought didn’t lie heavy on your head whenever it knocked on the doors of your consciousness.

“Alright, then, I have a surprise for you,” he pulled you away from the vinyl stand, almost as giddy as you felt, and into the busier paths of the market. Under string lights that festively shone, between the other passersby, it was easy to feel like you were the only two people in the world. That’s how Seonghwa made you feel; in his presence, living life was easier. If he was holding your hand, you were sure you could face any hurdles that may come. It was a feeling so real that you could almost taste it in his sweet kisses, his loving embrace, and no longer only dream of.

As he dragged you - arm lazily thrown on your shoulders or hand on the small of your back if too many people forced you two to walk in line - remnant, persisting memories almost made you dizzy with deja vu. His hand squeezing yours to make sure you were still following, to tell you he was still there, his voice pointing out whatever caught his attention as you passed by, the wintry breeze and the cacophony of voices, laughs, faraway music surrounding you.

“Here we are,” you almost bumped into his back when he stopped and stood facing the cafè that held the memory of your first date.

“It’s closed,” you pointed out, hearing his chuckle shortly after.

“Good thing I’ve got the keys,” he jingled them in the space between the two of you, a proud smile on his lips. You cocked your head to the side, brows furrowed.

“You’ll see.”

Seonghwa made quick work of opening up and leading you in, turning on the softer lights, leaving the sign on “closed”. As if on autopilot, you wandered around the room to the one table that had caught your eye. On it, laid few of your favorite pastries and pictures of you together, a colorful bouquet in the middle.

“Seonghwa… what’s all this?”

“Happy birthday,” his arms embraced you, bringing you to rest your back against his chest, holding you close. Speechless, you turned around in his hold, ready to speak but the words wouldn’t come. “I know you said you were working and were probably going to go home and do something on the weekend, but I didn’t want to just text you happy birthday and go about my day. Today is your day and you’re very special to me and I wanted to do something to wish you-”

You kissed him - interrupting his rambling and pulling him closer - gently like his arms were around your waist, warm like your cheeks and slow as if you had all the time in the world.

“Thank you,” you whispered against his lips, hands still playing with soft strands of his hair. “You didn’t have to.”

“But I wanted to,” he pecked your lips once again before sliding away from you and pulling out the chair for you to sit. As he did, another confused memory swirled in your head. You pushed it away. Sitting in front of you, Seonghwa asked about your day and let you ramble on and on, so you asked about his, too. He left his hand out on the table for you to hold, so you did, not missing the way he quickly hid a smile after you intertwined your fingers. Whenever he was close to you, Seonghwa wondered if you could tell how furiously his heart was beating in his chest; be it by brushing your finger against his pulse or resting your head against it.

When he deemed dinner over, he pulled out of its box a little cake and stuck a candle right in the middle of it for you to blow out - only after he’d sang happy birthday to you. Seonghwa found the way you covered your blushing cheeks with your hands the most adorable thing you could ever do. He seemed antsy, itching even, to give you your present, though. So you pushed the platter with your slice of cake aside.

“You could’ve finished,” he pouted, making you laugh over the rustling of a paper bag.

“You looked like you were about to explode, Hwa,” you accepted his present, wrapped pristine and precise, insisting that he didn’t have to. He kept on saying he wanted to (and also, what kind of boyfriend would I be if I didn’t?).

A smile so bright it rivaled the sun opened up on your lips, seeing the art cover of your favorite artist’s album peeking from the torn wrapping paper.

“Is this why you were hogging the stand earlier?” You beamed at him, who sat with wide eyes hanging by your every word. You could tell his leg was bouncing.

“I couldn’t have you buy it when I got it for you,” he brought a hand up to scratch the back of his neck, a nervous habit of his you’d noticed, with a sheepish smile. You stood and, on the way to the record player of the shop, you kissed his cheek, murmuring a soft thank you. It was a look you wished to forever have engraved in your mind, the one he gave you when you offered him your hand to take, asking if you could have this dance.

Seonghwa stood as if in a trance, nodding his head, only for you to guide him where less tables were. He pulled you close once again, slowly swaying to the beat of his fluttering heart or the music, he wasn’t sure. Time and time again he’d asked himself, in his time with you, how could he have been so lucky to meet you. To somehow hold your attention for long enough to make you see him, care for him. For you to want him to be this close to you. He hoped you’d allow him to be forever.

He twirled you around and waited for you to land back in his arms, feeling as dizzy as he often was when you found yourself there.

“Thank you,” you whispered, cheek resting against his chest.

“Please, don’t thank me, my angel,” he whispered back, freezing time.

The first time he’d called you angel, your heart had leapt from you. And yet, it wasn’t then and there, but back in your dreams. You didn’t know whether you were breathing still, all you knew was that when you looked up, Seonghwa was already searching for your eyes.

“Say that again,” your voice was barely above a whisper, just as fragile as a piece of glass.

“My angel,” his was too, broken by emotion and you had a feeling you knew just why. Seonghwa’s hands came to cup your cheeks, eyes drinking you in as if it were the first time. Perhaps it was, because you were looking at him like you finally found who you had been looking for. Like you could finally see the face that had populated your dreams.

“It’s you,” it sounded crazy, absolutely mad to say something like that, but when he nodded back with unshed tears in his eyes, you knew. Seonghwa’s arms were quick to hug you to him once more, holding close like he never had before. Both your figures were shaken by sobs, but your hearts were being mended. Behind your eyelids, scenes of you through time played; all your dreams finally making sense as memories of past lives spent together, consumed by a love so fierce that it found you in every life.

“I can’t believe I found you again,” Seonghwa whispered as your sobs died down. He was still holding you, in the middle of the cafè while the music played, as if he were afraid you’d vanish.

“I can,” you sniffled. “I dreamed of you for so long, I should’ve known…”

“I thought I was going out of my mind,” his watery laugh pulled a chuckle out of you. “I longed for the day I’d see you again.”The record had gone quieter, maybe because there was only so little you could focus on when you finally were in the arms of your soulmate. There was no need for words, not now. Not when you could feel the love pouring out of your fingertips. Not when Seonghwa was placing kisses on the tears running down your cheeks, your temples, your forehead, your lips. Not when his whispered my angel made up for the time you’d spent apart. All this running around in circles every night, chasing after figments of what you thought could only be your imagination had finally brought him to you. You both laughed at destiny for making you dream for so long, secure in the newfound conviction that you’d be together no matter where it brought you.

#cromernet #park seonghwa #park seonghwa fluff #ateez park seonghwa #park seonghwa au #park seonghwa x reader #park seonghwa x y/n #seonghwa fluff #seonghwa x reader #seonghwa fanfic #seonghwa imagines #ateez seonghwa #park seonghwa imagine #ateez seonghwa fluff #park seonghwa ateez #ateez seonghwa x reader #ateez x reader #ateez x y/n #ateez fluff

165 notes · View notes

fluentmoviequoter · 30 days

Text

Let Me Help

Requested Here!

Pairing: Dominique Luca x fostered!SWAT!fem!reader

Summary: When Los Angeles is hit with a freak cold front and your apartment loses heat, you don't ask for help. Luca sees how sick you are and pays you a visit which ends with him taking you back to his house to heal.

Warnings: reader was a foster kid, angst, sickness (pneumonia), fluff and comfort! there's also several Batman references. oops.

Word Count: 2.6k+ words

Masterlist Directory | Luca Masterlist | Request Info\Fandom List

In hindsight, becoming a member of S.W.A.T. may have been a mistake. Not because you don’t enjoy the work or get along with your team but because your past makes certain things hard for you. Growing up in the foster system is a lot of things, and it caused you to be incredibly self-reliant. You learned to be responsible and take care of yourself at a very early age. More than that, you were led to believe that no one would ever want to help you. So, now that you are an adult, you find it hard to ask for help. No matter who it is, asking for assistance or backup is not easy, which makes it hard to be a member of 20-David sometimes.

When you’re in the field, you can switch that part of your brain off, and become a S.W.A.T. officer rather than a foster kid. But the moment you get back to HQ and need your teammates’ help, the words seem to disappear, and you forget how to ask people to be there for you, even those closest to you.

Joining 20-David, however, saved your life. Before S.W.A.T., you were, for the most part, alone and lost. They gave you a home, a family, and everything else you never had before. While every team member cares about you, Luca shows you what it is like to be loved and appreciated.

✯✯✯✯✯

“It’s freezing out there,” Hondo complains as he enters HQ.

“Coldest winter in history according to the news,” Street replies. “Which means desperate, cold people and more calls for us. Any chance this is like Batman, and Alfred can make us special winter uniforms before the first one?”

“Sure,” you answer. “I’m sure that’s precisely what Hicks is doing right now.”

“What am I doing?” he asks as he rounds a corner.

“Nothing,” you and Street answer together.

“Alfred,” Street whispers to you.

You press your lips together to keep yourself from laughing while suppressing a shiver. It is certainly cold, and the heat in your apartment complex went out in the middle of the night. Most people then left and found somewhere else to stay, but hotels are booked, and you can’t find the right time or words to ask your team to lend you a hand or a place to stay.

“Sorry I’m late,” Luca says as he joins your side.

He rubs his hands together to warm up and smiles at you. Hicks gives you information on a fugitive warrant and pulls up a blueprint of the man’s house. There are several points of entry, but the man knows how to barricade all of them, so your team will have to take a unique approach.

“Cut the power and wait for him to get cold,” Deacon suggests.

“Man, what do you have to complain about?” Hondo asks. “You’ve got a wife and four kids to keep you warm.”

“Really?” Hicks asks. “You wanna bring up body heat, playboy?”

You chuckle and stick your hands farther into your pockets. Luca shakes his head beside you before lowering his voice to ask how you are.

“I’m alright. Ready for sunny Los Angeles to get sunny again,” you answer. “What about you?”

“I’d have to say the same. If you want to come over for my world-famous hot chocolate tonight, feel free,” Luca offers.

“Hot chocolate?” Street asks.

“That got his attention better than I ever have,” Hicks grumbles.

“Luca’s hot chocolate is like Christmas and happiness and pure warmth in a cup. And I do pay attention to you, Commander, but my eyelids are frozen shut.”

“Just, go execute the warrant and get back. It’s going to be a long week with this cold front,” Hicks interjects.

“Yes, sir,” Hondo replies. “Let’s roll.”

When you open your locker and realize you forgot your second long-sleeved t-shirt at home, you lean your head against the locker door.

“Here,” Luca says as he extends a jacket to you. “It’s an old one, but I accidentally picked up both.”

“I can’t accept that,” you begin.

“I don’t need it. Seriously, I’ll feel better knowing you’re warm. Work with me?”

Luca smiles, and you accept the jacket with a smile. It’s warm and smells like Luca’s cologne, so, once it’s on, you regret arguing against it. If you could live in this jacket, you would.

“We got this,” Luca reminds you as he walks by your side to Black Betty.

✯✯✯✯✯

The following morning, when your alarm goes off, you feel like you can’t wake up. Your apartment is still without heat, and the permeating cold sucks the energy out of you. When you finally pry your eyes open, you remember that you are still wearing Luca’s jacket, and that gives you the surge of energy you need to get out of bed and get ready. You’ve been sleeping in too many layers, and with each one you strip off, you feel the cold settle further into you. Your joints are stiff, your nose is runny, and you can’t shake the tiredness caused by the dropping temperature. Something needs to change, but you don’t know how to fix it. There has to be a trick to surviving this without help… if only you knew what it was.

In the warm locker room, you scroll through your phone in a sad attempt to find a hotel or rental house you can afford. They’re all booked through the end of the week or ridiculously overpriced, so you turn the phone off and lean back against the bench.

“How are you?” Luca asks when he enters. “The jacket looks good on you.”

“Oh, do you need it back?” You sit up as you ask, but Luca smiles and waves you off.

“No, keep it as long as you want. Can’t remember the last time I wore it. Everything okay on your side of town? Some of the buildings in my neighborhood lost heat during the night.”

You shake your head as you prepare to lie. “Everything’s good.”

Luca nods but glances over when you sniff. The cold can be blamed for some of what is happening in Los Angeles right now, but Luca suspects there is something that you aren’t telling him. He’s repeatedly told you he’s here for you, but Street explained that foster kids aren’t great at reaching out, no matter how close someone is. So, Luca will wait for you to come to him, and his arms will be open when you do.

✯✯✯✯✯

By the end of the week, you are miserable. The cold front has stalled, so meteorologists have little idea about when it will warm up again, and your apartment is getting colder every day. You’ve been able to sleep despite the conditions, but each morning, waking up is harder than the day before. You’re constantly tired, and your sniffles worsen, becoming an ache in your chest. The joint pain has worsened, and while it eases at work, it only intensifies each night you return home.

Luca keeps a close eye on you and can tell you’re tired, but he doesn’t want to push you to talk. If he could convince you to tell Street what's up, maybe you’d be more open, he thinks. You interrupt his internal debate with a deep cough. It rattles your chest and hurts your body as it escapes.

“That does not sound good,” Luca says as he turns toward you.

You’re shivering and can barely keep your eyes open, but you shake your head and reply, “I’m good. The cold is just bothering my allergies, I think.”

Hondo yells for you, and you stand quickly, ignoring the pain as you do so. Luca watches you go and grows more concerned for you. He asks Deacon if he’s noticed you acting differently and Deacon immediately answers that he is nearly certain you are getting sick. They both know you won’t tell anyone, preferring to risk your safety at work rather than asking for assistance. It’s part of your personality, even if it worries them.

Out of stubbornness and not recognizing that your team is worried about your well-being, you brush off their questions and concerns about your health. You’ve been living in the cold for nearly a week now, and you are sure the heat will be fixed soon (even if you have to figure out how to repair it yourself). So, you return home to a freezing apartment and silently hope you wake up in the morning.

✯✯✯✯✯

Not only do you wake up, but you wake up while it’s still dark out because you’re coughing and shaking. You’re burning up, which is the first of many clues that you are not okay. After picking up your phone, you find Luca’s contact and sit with your finger positioned over the call button. He would happily come to get you and let you rest in his heated house, but when you imagine him answering, you no longer want to admit you need help. So, you get up and slowly get ready before driving to S.W.A.T. HQ. At the least, you can sit in a warm room before your shift starts.

When you enter, Rocker’s team is about to start a training exercise and invite you to join. You have an hour before you have to be in uniform, so you agree, mostly so they don’t get as suspicious as 20-David already is.

At the end of the exercise, you are holding your coughs in and fighting to hide how hard your arms and hands are shaking. You feel terrible, and anyone who looks at your target from the shooting range will be able to see that it’s affecting your work.

You don’t notice Luca standing at the edge of the rink, and when Rocker knocks you to the mat with a single hit, he jumps onto the mat beside you.

“Hey,” he calls as he gestures for Rocker to step back.

His words don’t reach your ears over your coughing, but you see him and force yourself to calm down. Luca and Rocker stand over you, clearly concerned, and you smile as you accept their help.

“I’m fine,” you promise. “Just wanted to see if Rocker would pull his punches for a girl.”

“The fist of justice is unisex,” Rocker replies sarcastically.

“You and Street should have a Batman marathon,” you reply as you follow Luca to the locker room.

“I’m just going to be direct,” Luca begins once you’re alone. “I’m really worried about you.”

“Luca, I’m just not doing well with the cold. I’ll be fine, though. I appreciate the concern, but it’s unnecessary.”

You stand, and Luca says your name. Stopping, you can’t decide if you want to let go and tell him everything or push him away like you normally do.

“Luca, I am fine.”

“You clearly are not.”

“I know that you care, but leave it alone, Luca.”

You walk about before he responds. As you pass Deacon, you realize that Luca touched your skin, so he probably suspects you have a fever. However, your conversation with Luca makes you feel worse, so you decide to power through the day and then call your landlord about your heater. Again.

✯✯✯✯✯

Luca watches you leave the minute your shift is over. You don’t change or wash up, and he decides that he can’t leave it, or you, alone any longer. As he drives to your apartment, Luca plans to remind you that you need to rest and take care of yourself, especially in this weather. He sees a drugstore and stops quickly to gather a few things he thinks may help you feel better. Maybe you’ll surprise him by accepting his offer to help you care for yourself.

When Luca pulls into the parking lot of your apartment, he’s surprised to find it nearly empty. He parks behind your car and rushes to your door. His concern grows with each moment he waits for your answer.

✯✯✯✯✯

You continue to shiver painfully despite being dressed in your tactical uniform, plus several sweatshirts, Luca’s jacket, and a blanket around your shoulders. Someone knocks on your door, and the only reason you force yourself off the bed is out of hope that it is the heat repair guy. When you open the door, you can’t decide to be happy or disappointed that it’s Luca.

Your voice is broken up by your harsh shivers as you ask what he’s doing there. Luca immediately feels how cold your apartment is and pushes inside. He sets a plastic bag on your counter before walking into your bedroom. He moves silently around your home like he belongs there and gathers your things as he goes.

“What are you doing?” you ask quietly.

“Are you out of your mind?” Luca replies. Despite the harshness of his question, his voice is soft, if a little annoyed. “How long has your heat been out? You said the cold was getting to you – because you let it in. Living like this is the reason you are sick! You should have told me, any one of us, so that we could help you. My house is always open to you, you know that.”

You get confused watching Luca gather your things while ranting about how you should have told him something. He reprimands you and helps you at the same time, it seems.

“Let’s go,” he says as he puts the bag he brought in your stuffed backpack.

“Where?” you inquire as you pull the blanket tighter around you.

“My house. Someone has to help you overcome the pneumonia you probably have.”

“But-“

“No more buts,” Luca declares. “I’m not asking, babe.”

The pet name catches you off guard, but you take Luca’s offered hand without question. You didn’t ask for help, but accepting it isn’t necessarily easier than asking for it. Once you’re at his house, he makes you comfortable on the couch before bringing you a warm drink and some medicine. His requests are soft-spoken, and you obey wordlessly.

“Thank you,” you murmur when he finally sits beside you.

Luca shakes his head and clenches his jaw quickly. “I’ll always be here to help you. I enjoy protecting you, caring for you, all of it. But you have to stop acting like it’s an imposition.”

“I can’t tell if you’re being sappy or are just really annoyed with me.”

“Both!” Luca exclaims. “Look, I can understand being independent to a degree, but living like that could have been so much worse than this, and this is bad.”

You nod and look down at the blanket. “I have trouble asking for help,” you admit. “Growing up, I didn’t have people I could ask for help. The few that I did ask wouldn’t help me, so I just learned to do everything by myself. Finding the words, the opportunity to ask… it’s hard.”

Luca’s eyes soften as he lays his hands over yours. “I promise that I will always be here. I will always be ready, able, and willing to help you. I want to help you because I care about you.”

“Why am I so important?” you whisper as you look into his eyes.

Luca licks his lips before deciding to tell you a version of the truth. “Because I care about you. More than I’ve ever cared about anyone before.”

He says care, but he thinks love. Maybe after he’s gotten you healthy again, you can have an open and honest conversation with one another. For now, though, you close your eyes and lean against his shoulder, warm and happy.

“I care about you, too. More than I should,” you mumble against Luca's shirt before falling asleep.

Luca smiles and tugs the blanket tighter around your shoulders before kissing your forehead. He will help you until he can’t help you anymore and love every moment of it, he thinks.

#hanna writes✯#dominique luca x reader #dominique luca #swat x reader #swat cbs #requests #fem!reader

82 notes · View notes

mangekyuou · 2 months

Note

Straw Hats x Fem Gardener S/O platonic fluff HCs! The main reason I request this? FLOWER CROWNS! But also, S/O is good at growing crops and flowers, so she must have a greenhouse on deck to grow fruits, tangerines, vegetables, any medicinal herbs, flowers, anything! So helpful and sweet! And also, FLOWER CROWNS!

★ WITH A FEM GARDENER CREWMATE! headcanons ★

── featuring. the strawhats.

── cw. f!reader. no pronouns used. platonic. very brief mention of homesickness. not proofread.

── notepad. sigh i love you platonic and domestic hcs of the strawhats. you complete me <333

never in all of your years did you think you would find yourself gardening on the sea with a group who had come like family to you, a group you couldn't see yourself living without

building your new greenhouse on the deck was a group effort because it was supposed to be a surprise for you

you loved being at sea with the strawhats, you wouldn't trade it for the world. but it didn't stop you from missing home

a spring island somewhere out there, where the love and life are just as plentiful as the beautiful green that covers it

to bring a piece of your home back to you, the strawhats all chip to help make you a greenhouse where you continue your gardening while on the sea. something you never thought you could do

you somehow didn't find out about what they were planning, despite a few of your crewmates being blabbermouths.

after a girl's day in the island port town, you landed on a few days ago with nami and robin, you finally see it.

"surprise!" your crewmates, your family, jumps out all covered in wood chips and paint of all colors. some were covered in more paint than others. you swore your captain was wearing a yellow shirt that day, but with the amount of blue on it, it may as well have been blue.

you love your greenhouse! well, it wasn't just your greenhouse anymore. it was another place for you and your crewmates to spend time together.

it's the perfect place to have early lunches on sunny days and a late dinner on calm and cool nights under warm string lights.

your extensive knowledge of plants and your natural green thumb make you a versatile member of the crew.

on one end of your greenhouse, you were growing medical herbs for chopper's research and medicines. on another side, you made a special place for nami's tangerine trees you helped her take great care of.

on another corner were many vegetables for sanji's amazing dishes. and close by were the sweetest fruits in all of the grand line that would sometimes go missing the next morning

which is why you have decided to start locking up the greenhouse at night.

but who can forget, the flower crowns !!

a small gesture that would have a lasting impact on each of them, all with their own flower that you believed best represented them based on the flowers' meanings and your crew's personalities.

luffy puts his crown around his hat. when the flowers start to die and lose their color, he will become sad and ask you to make another one for him to replace it.

zoro was confused as to what exactly you wanted him to do with it until you motioned for him to put it on his head. it's uhhh...definitely not for him. but you're like a sister to him so if you flash puppy eyes, he'll wear it

sanji finds the crown you made for him adorable. he finds you even more charming for going out of your way to make it for him. he doesn't deserve such gifts from you but he is happy to wear them to make you happy. he preserves them so he can hold onto them forever.

robin definitely helps you make the flower crowns with all those extra pairs of hands that she has. like sanji, robin preserves the flower crowns that you give her. she will take a piece of them and put them in resin to make homemade jewelry from.

jinbei is your favorite to make flower crowns for. with all of his long beautiful hair, you are constantly putting big, colorful flowers in his hair because he sits there and just lets you do it. sometimes he'll even put flowers in your hair. flower pals !!

brook, like jinbei, enjoys it when you put flower crowns and stick flowers in his hair over cups of tea.

usopp pretends that he doesn't want one, but he secretly does. so after he politely declines and you (pretend to) take his word for it and walk away, he's so sad. pls no, give it to him !!

chopper loves making flower crowns with you. he could make them all day. he loves wearing several of them on his antlers, so he can spin, turn, and dance and they flow in the wind.

nami loves extravagant flower crowns. the bigger and more colorful, the better. she will throw little hints that she really wants one made of sunflowers and roses, such as saying how much she really REALLY wants one, and will sigh out loud when she's in front of the flowers. so when you actually surprise her with one, she's so happy she could squeeze the life out of you. you're her favorite for a reason

franky is so gentle with his flower crown. he's terrified that he may accidentally break or bruise the flowers that you worked so hard to put together. he will pull out the tiny yellow hand to put it on or take it off. he is going to make this thing last !!

MANGEKYOU 2024 ── do not copy, repost, or translate my works onto this platform or any other !

#☆ — MY LOVE MINE ALL MINE.#this is PEAK aroacedom #its been so long since ive watched one piece bro #one piece #the strawhats #the straw hats #strawhats #strawhat pirates #strawhats x reader #straw hats x reader #one piece oneshots #one piece scenarios #one piece imagines #one piece headcanons

80 notes · View notes

junkdrawerfics · 8 months

Text

First Suspicions

And final findings.

Summary: Two instances when your curiosity gets the best of you and Jasper has to distract you from the truth. And one instance when he's not there to do so. Curiosity might just be the thing that kills you.

Words: 1768

Note: I like this part a lot more, so I hope you guys also enjoy it! I tried to do a quick but believable process of discovery. Longer note at end.

Also @little-miss-loves-fictional-men your comment on my last post almost made me cry. Thank you for that.

---

“So you’re not related to your siblings, right?”

A month into the semester, and Forks feels like home already. Largely in part to Jasper, not that you’ll ever tell anyone that, especially him. It took only a few days for you to become fast friends. Being around him felt easy, maybe because he never seems to judge you for your odd habits, or maybe just because he’s one of the kindest, most empathetic people you’ve ever met.

Whatever it is, your friendship quickly breaks from the confines of the school. Whether it be studying at you new favorite coffee shop - though you’re thinking of going somewhere else since he rarely wants a drink or anything - or going on a walk through the woods as you’re doing now.

Jasper offers a wry smile as he helps you over a large log, “Just Rosalie, I’m afraid.”

You shoot him a disapproving look, though he catches the glimmer of laughter in your eyes, “Don’t be mean, Jasper Hale. She doesn’t seem that bad.”

It is strange though. Except for their matching gold hair, there’s not a singular similarity between him and Rose. They’re honestly the most different out of the family, personality-wise at least. Maybe that’s normal for siblings though.

“No, I suppose she’s not,” Jasper murmurs, looking up at the sky, which is practically hidden behind the canopy of pine needles. “Though I’d much rather listen to Edward go on about Bella than her talk about herself.”

Bella Swan. The girl who moved to Forks just one year before you. You have a class with her, and you honestly like her quite a bit. While you’re both awkward, it’s nice to know someone else who’s close with the Cullens.

And she might know things that could answer your growing list of questions.

Like why are they all so pale? Why do they avoid most of the school? Why do you never see them on the rare sunny days Forks gets?

“So why do you ask about my siblin’s darlin’?” Ah. Right. You weren’t being too subtle, you guess.

“I just think it’s crazy how similar you all look,” you explain, keeping your eyes glued to your shoes. Mud sticks to the sides, both dry and wet. You’ve been walking for a while now. “I mean, you all look different, obviously, but you all have the same eyes. And you’re all gorg-”

You bite down hard on your tongue and come to a stuttering stop.

That wasn’t supposed to come out.

Jasper stops right beside you, lips drawing into a wolfish, slanted smirk. You stand completely frozen, eyes wide as he steps closer, too close, leaning forward against the tree behind you. Your heart flounders wildly in your chest. Sometimes you forget he’s so tall.

“I’d sure like to hear you finish that declaration, miss (L/n),” he hums, tone bright with barely concealed mirth.

“Nope!” Your heart lurches as you duck under his arm and scuttle away. Heat burns across your cheeks despite the chill in the air. His laughter echoes behind you, warm and deep and lovely. Too lovely. Your face goes darker. “You didn’t hear anything. I didn’t say anything. Oh hey, look at that tree!”

Jasper watches you dash away, relief warring with his amusement as he follows close behind. You’re observant, more observant than he expected. He’ll have to be more careful. At least he was able to distract you.

This time.

---

“Do you always run this cold?” You poke Jasper’s shoulder as you pass him on the way to your desk.

The blond glances up from his textbook, eyes narrowing as if he’s trying to figure out where you’re going with this, “I suppose I do.”

“Maybe it’s cause you don’t eat enough,” you muse, reaching for the bag of chocolate you keep hidden in the bottom drawer. You hold it out to him with a conspiratorial smile, “I always like to keep a secret stash, want one?”

“No thank you, darlin’.” Jasper smiles, though it’s tighter. Maybe you only see it because you’re looking for it, but you swear he looks uncomfortable for a split second.

“I feel like I never see you eat,” you admit, putting the bag back in its hiding spot, “Even at school. None of you eat.”

Jasper’s brow furrows. He can feel your concern, but also your curiosity. They radiate off you in equal degrees, so he can’t tell how carefully he should tread.

“My siblings and I are on a…special diet,” he explains slowly, eyes falling back to his textbook. He can’t hold your worried gaze while he lies to you, even if it’s not really a lie. “We prefer not to talk about it.”

You tilt your head, pouting softly, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to push.”

Guilt. Jasper can feel it biting at the back of his mind. But he smiles and murmurs a soft, “Thank you for understandin’.”

You nod. It still seems strange, though. The more you think about it, the more questions you have. You’ve hardly seen him even drink water, and that can’t be normal, even more for a special diet. But it’s not like he looks unhealthy. No one can look that good if they’re not eating enough.

A sudden heat creeps up your neck. Coughing awkwardly, you turn your attention to your own homework, trying to not focus on just how good Jasper always looks. The man is surprisingly fit under all those sweaters -

Then why does he run so cold? The thought comes back to you, like an annoying fly circling your head. You’ve noticed the same thing about Alice when she gave you a hug. Their touch is like ice, cold enough to leave you shivering after the smallest graze. It’s the kind of cold you read about in your murder mysteries, when someone is dead.

Curiosity burns hot in your chest, making you all but forget the slight warmth in your cheeks. Some things just don’t add up. And you know you shouldn’t pry, it’s none of your business and you don’t want to push him away. So why does it matter so much to you?

“Do you need help with that problem, darlin’?”

You jump, glancing up to find Jasper looking over your shoulder at the worksheet in your lap. You didn’t even hear him get off the bed. It’s almost like he’s a ghost.

“Um, sure, yah.” Your growing anxiety seems to slip away with him so close, and with it goes your curiosity. Shaking your head, you cast him an apologetic smile, “Sorry, I’m a bit distracted I guess. Did I space out?”

Jasper squeezes your shoulder warmly, voice tender with something fond, “You were starin’ at it for a few minutes. I figured it might have been givin’ you trouble.”

“Yah, yah, I guess I’m stuck.” To be honest, you don’t even know what worksheet you’re on. Help can’t hurt though. “Thanks, Jasper.”

“It’s my pleasure.”

Another successful distraction.

---

“Huh.”

You pause in your reading, jaw dropping a little.

To end the quarter, your U.S. History teacher was allowing you to do a report on anything that has been covered in class. You decided to do research into the Civil War, specifically the confederate army since you felt like it was often dismissed in class discussions. Understandably, since it’s an uncomfortable topic for most.

But you were curious, as always. There’s no doubt they were on the wrong side of history, proven by how things ended. Even if you hate what they stand for, you want to know both sides of it.

So you dug up some old books. And by old, you mean old. Written very close to the time period of the war old. They’re only digital copies, since there’s no way you could afford them otherwise, but still. And it took searching some obscure website to find them.

It makes this all the more confusing. You double check the publication date. The copyright. All of it. They all confirm the age of the book.

So how are you looking at what seems to be a carbon copy of Jasper?

It’s an old photo, dated 1862. Black and white and a bit fuzzy. A young man sits perched on a horse, decked out in a full confederate uniform and a cowboy hat. His hair is longer, light, brushing his chin, just like Jasper’s. But that’s not it. No, it’s something about his face. About the lopsided grin on his lips.

You quickly skim the few paragraphs next to the photo, eyes going wider with each word you read.

‘Jasper Whitlock, born in Texas, became the youngest man to earn the rank of Major in the Confederate Army. Major Whitlock was labeled missing in action in the year 1863, when he disappeared while evacuating U.S. citizens who were at risk in the wake of the war.’

Jasper.

They even have the same name. Different last names, but still. Can that be a coincidence? Maybe they’re related, you try to reason. That wouldn't make sense, after all. It’d be crazy. Absolutely crazy.

You decide to google this man, Jasper Whitlock, but only a few generic results for ‘jasper’ show up. Nothing about the young Army Major. You lean back in your chair, brows furrowing. That doesn’t make sense either. Unless-

“What are you reading?”

You shriek, slamming your laptop shut.

Bella holds her hands up, eyes wide.

“Oh my gosh, you scared me!” You press a hand to your chest, laughing breathlessly. “I thought you were Jasper.”

The brunette looks at you strangely, “Why? Are you hiding something from him?”

You flinch. That’s straightforward. For Bella at least.

Trying to give her an easy-going smile, you explain, “No, he just has the tendency to sneak up on me. I’m working on a history project, that’s all. He knows all about this stuff and I definitely don’t, so I’m trying to spare myself some embarrassment.”

You hate lying. It makes you feel gross, but you don’t want to freak Bella out. There’s a lot of ways this could be explained, you’re sure, and you’re probably overthinking all of it.

Yah. There’s no way that this Jasper Whitlock could be connected to your Jasper. It’s impossible.

Right?

This time, Jasper isn’t there to blow out the spark.

---

Unless.

The word rings around in your head.

Ringing and ringing and ringing until you jolt up in bed later that night and snatch your laptop from your nightstand.

‘cold skin’

‘doesn’t eat’

‘avoids sun’

‘doesn’t age?’

You click enter and only one word comes back.

‘vampire’

---

So! I was so excited to incorporate the whole history thing! My headcannon is that Jasper would have been recorded in history because of his accomplishments (I mean, the real youngest major of the confederate army was 36 so him being 19 is crazy) but the Cullens have worked to to keep his name off the internet somehow. I'm sure one of them could pick up some computer skills with all that time.

And that's why you only see him mentioned in old, written text. I don't know, I think it's something really cool to think about! And what a cool way to do a reveal!

Anyways! I hope you guys enjoyed this!

#reader insert #x reader #reader #jasper hale #jasper whitlock #twilight saga #twilight #jasper hale x reader #jasper whitlock x reader #jasper x reader #jasper whitlock is a minor historical figure and you can't prove me wrong

257 notes · View notes

stargazedwinchester · 1 month

Text

And You Are? | Dean

Summary: You enjoy a night at the bar with your friend, who is certain someone’s trying to flirt with you.

Based on this request here! Thank you! :)

Y/F/N: Your friends name

Y/D/N: Your dogs name

Word count: 1,161

♱⁺. ⋆˙✧⋆✧˙⋆⊹.♱

It's not unusual for you to go out with your friends once in a while. The occasion this time is because you've holed yourself up in your house for 'far too long' according to Y/F/N, who has basically forced you out of the house for some fresh air.

Leading up to the bar, you could tell it was a dingy, cheap place just from how rowdy the men are, and the sound of glasses smashing and people cheering. What's up with that?

"You wanna sit at the bar?" Your friend says, scanning the whole place for somewhere to sit. "If it's best, yeah, it's quite full," You say. The place was packed full of sweaty boisterous bodies, you make your way over to the bar, finding a single stool to sit on. Your friend stood next to you. The both of you ordered your drinks and eventually someone moved, so your friend sat opposite you.

"Hey," She says, nodding at something behind you. "There's a guy, 6 o'clock, has really keen eyes," She says, and you turn around, scanning the room for said 'guy'. "Honestly, I wouldn't even know who you're talking about. There's that many people in here it's almost impossible. Plus, Y/F/N, I am blind." You chuckle, and she facepalms. She reaches down and pets Y/D/N. "Sorry, Y/N. I forget." A smile creeps on your face as you take another drink.

"No, but seriously, this guy is checking you out. If you don't want him, I'll have him." She laughs, showing him a quick smile before taking a sip. You take one last search around, feeling the contact like there are eyes burning right through the back of your skull. "Oh my God, he's coming over." She panics, darting her eyes from you to the handsome 6 foot something guy making his way over. She picks up her drink and downs the rest of it, waving for another round to be sent over.

"Hey, ladies, can I buy either of you a drink?" A deep voice appears from the heavy sounds of the bar. He looks down at you, showing you a warm, friendly smile. His hair short and dark, wearing a dark green unbuttoned over-shirt and a light blue/grey t-shirt underneath paired with some black jeans. His eyes are dreamy, a lovely shade of shiny green, speckles of sunny hazel compliments his dark exterior. Whether his appearance matches his personality, you're almost eager to find out.

"We're fine, thanks. Y/F/N has just ordered a couple more," You start, pointing to the empty glasses in front of you. He holds a glass half full of what seems to be beer, which wouldn't be to your surprise. "There's no harm in ordering more!" Y/F/N laughs, accepting the round of drinks from the bartender, sliding yours across to you. "Here, Y/N. That ones yours." She says, taking a sip of hers. "Oh, Y/N, right? It's nice to meet you, I'm Dean." He holds his hand out, and you grant him a pleasant smile, shuffling in your seat. "Nice to meet you, Dean."

He awkwardly moves his hand away, placing it back in his pocket. "It's nice to meet you too, Y/F/N. I hope I'm not intruding..." He trails, hoping to hear 'no' as an answer. "No, Dean, don't worry about it. We're only out for a couple of drinks then heading back home. She forced me out of my own house." You chuckle, and Y/F/N rolls her eyes. "She's refusing to leave her bed, so I've had to practically drag her by the ears to get her here."

Dean laughs, bringing his drink to his lips. "To be honest, it's not a great place here. I wouldn't blame you if you wanted to get out and go someplace else?" He suggests, and you snort. "There's no way in Hell I'm leaving this place with some guy I've met 5 minutes ago, I'll pass." You say, waving your hand at him. Dean holds his hand to his heart, scrunching his shirt. "Some guy? Most ladies are dying to take me home after 5 minutes!" He jokes, and it doesn't fly too well with you.

"Okay, wow, and now he's assuming." You feel a smile creep up, unable to keep it under wraps. "Hate to say it, but I'm not like other girls," You state, silently laughing to yourself.

"I can tell you are," He says, and you tilt your head. "What?"

"I said I can tell you are." He speaks louder, moving closer to your ear. You get a whiff of his cologne, woodsy, musky and sexy. Your eyes lit up as if something inside you has awoken, you've never smelt anything like it. Now you have to know who this man is and what he's about.

♱⁺. ⋆˙✧⋆✧˙⋆⊹.♱

After a small while of talking, Y/F/N found a different guy she could keep her eyes on and left both you and Dean alone. "To be honest, I'm done. Now Y/F/N has disappeared I feel like I don't have to force these drinks down me," You laugh, "You wanna go sit outside?" You ask Dean, and he nods "Yeah, let's go." He says, he shuffles out of the way to make room for you to get off of the stool. You pull out your cane and take Y/D/N leash, and Dean looks shocked. "Y/N, sorry for not noticing, but you're blind?" He questions, a confused look on his face. "Yeah, you didn't see?"

"Honestly? No, I didn't." He says, and you fold your cane back up. "Well, good, cause that means I can do this," You say, gently placing your hand in his. "Lead the way."

You head outside onto a bench out by the doorway, and you both sit down.

“I cannot believe you kept so quiet about this,” he starts, looking at you with a warm grin. His sudden interest in still wanting to get to know you really makes you wonder if he’s actually worth spending your time with. Dean seems like a really lovely guy, even with all the micro-flirting that’s been happening all night. Not that you’d complain, though, it’s nice to have recognition from such a charming, handsome man.

“I felt like it wasn’t something to mention,” you nod, “plus, I thought Y/D/N hi-vis vest was enough.” You laugh, and Dean nods. “That’s true, I guess I just had my eyes set on someone else.” He rasps, taking the last swig of his drink, before setting the glass on the patio floor. You grew tired, the night getting darker and longer made you crave your own comfort in your own home. Dean isn’t keeping you, yet he gets the hint. The conversation slowly grew quiet, as you both sat and and enjoyed each others company for a while longer.

“You know, I’d thought I’d change and be a gentleman for tonight, but screw it. You wanna come home with me?” He asks, seriousness in his voice.

“Thank God, I thought you’d never ask.”

#supernatural #spn #supernatural imagines #spn imagines #dean winchester #dean winchester imagines #sam winchester #sam winchester imagines #supernatural imagine #dean x reader #dean winchester x reader

116 notes · View notes

gingerjunhan · 4 months

Text

boyfriend headcannons - han hyeongjun

☆彡 EEEEEEKK it’s Jun Han time! :D 🩷

word count: 690 | pronouns used: none | genre: fluff, established relationship | cws: YouTube like is safe!!, all caps, (Hyeongjun’s) insecurities mentioned, eating mentioned, I love him, not proofread, lmk if I missed something

← previous member | next member →

obviously, I have a lot to say

here we go

first things first, Hyeongjun shows you how he loves you instead of telling you

there was some radio interview they did one time where the other members said he doesn’t say “I love you much”

so he makes sure to physically show his appreciation for you

what’s that? you were stressed from your workload? Hyeongjun made you dinner and cleaned up your place while you were out

you’re feeling nervous about a big job interview? he got you flowers to wish you good luck

stuff like that

I also feel like someone somewhere said that Hyeongjun is really good with dates?

idk maybe I’m gaslighting myself into thinking that

but he never never forgets anything!

birthdays, anniversaries, important events- he’s there

I also think a lot about the one Knock Down Debate that they did where Hyeongjun yelled at the others because they never pick up their phones when he calls them

so hey, at least he’s good at communication in that aspect

I don’t think Hyeongjun is one for pet names

I literally cannot picture him calling someone a pet name, but I could easily be wrong

if he did I feel like they would be simple

“honey”

“love”

“sweetie”

short and sweet stuff

he gets flustered easily if you call him something though!

I feel like it would be really easy to fluster him

STOOOPP imagine Hyeongjun meeting your pets

forget about your family- let this man meet your cat

okay but fr this man is sweating buckets meeting your family

he’s afraid that they would think he’s too quiet or too boring :(

but once they get to know him and once he warms up to them that’s obviously not true!

I mean, come on, look at the way that man can shred on the guitar. there is not a boring bone in his body

he’s a kiss on the cheek typa guy

no big fancy gestures

just something cute, simple, and sweet

he actually doesn’t strike me as a big gesture guy at all?

no wait let me explain

let me cook

not big on PDA, not the best with words, and he wouldn’t feel like his acts of kindness are very big

like, he let you hold on to kkito while he was away for a few days so you wouldn’t miss him- why are you crying?

ugh I wanna squeeze him :(

he will come to you with any sort of problem no matter how big or how small

he trusts you completely

he would literally be your friend first and your boyfriend second

Hyeongjun strikes me as the type to not need affection much, but when he does he’s a little nervous to ask

“Jun, what’s wrong?”

“I need a hug.” :(

you almost don’t hear him but y’all are so close that you can figure it out

you can basically read his mind

I feel like a relationship with Hyeongjun would go slow, and that’s okay!

why mess with perfection 😉

no need to rush first kisses or first I love yous

you’re just having fun together!

HE MAKES A PLAYLIST OF SONGS THAT REMIND HIM OF YOU 😭😭😭😭

“This song played in the restaurant during our first date.”

“This song was stuck in my head right before you kissed me for the first time.”

“This song was-“ STOP IT I can’t do this anymore

ALWAYS makes sure you’re taking care of yourself

making sure you eat meals and get enough rest

he’s so open minded!

I feel like he has strong opinions, but he’s chill with most things?

those two things literally cancel out but whatever

he buys clothes that he also thinks you would like in case you want to steal them 😼

pays very close attention to detail!

no new haircut or nail color goes unnoticed!

he draws little pictures of you in his sketchbook all the time :(

loving Hyeongjun is gentle, calm, and fun- like sitting in the grass on a sunny day

no pressure, no rush, just you two having fun being together 🩷

god I love him so much

taglist: @dazzlingligth , @mini-mews , @mxlly143 , @somethingaboutcheese , comment to be added!⁎⁺˳✧༚

#xdinary heroes x reader #xdinary heroes imagine #xdh x reader #xdh imagines #xdh fluff #junhan x reader

100 notes · View notes

skribblezcorner · 2 months

Text

HELLO AGAIN!!1111!!!! based off of @bidisastersanji's post about Sanji not being able to sit like a normal person (its cause hes a homo). i kind of took the hc and ran w it but thats okay hee hee

Also from Law's pov bc i love him so much and i wanted to try!! hope yall enjoy!!!!!!!!&!%@^#&^(!*#^$W yeah

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Law prides himself on being a very observant person.

It seems he wasn't looking hard enough when he made the mistakes that led him here, sulking under an umbrella on the deck of Luffy's ship.

After Dressrosa, Law was never supposed to see his crew again. That plan was thrown out the window by a certain straw-hatted pirate, and now he's hitching a ride to Zou with this absolute circus that is Luffy's crew.

It's been a week since Law came aboard, and the more he looks, things get weirder and weirder. Specifically, their chef.

The first time they met, the man was well-mannered, minus his attitude towards women and cigarette habit. However, Law finds him ever more strange after every interaction they have on the Sunny.

------

The first time Law notices something off is when he happens on Sanji in the galley. He understands being awake in the wee hours of the night, but not like this.

Law finds the man still fully dressed in his three-piece at three in the morning, sitting - no, crouching - on his chair and poring over a cookbook. His cigarette dangles loosely from his mouth as he mutters something unintelligible to himself and brings his knees together to rest his chin on top of them.

What the fuck, Law thinks, and as if the chef heard his internal monologue, a blonde head whips around to face him standing at the door.

Sanji's wide-eyed, slightly disheveled face stares back at him, and his neck is uncomfortably craned so he can look directly at Law. The pair look at each other awkwardly, and after a moment of silence he just...closes the door.

This is not Law's ship. It is none of his business, and he will go back to the men's quarters to sleep.

-----

This keeps happening the longer Law stays on Luffy's ship, and every day he notices how rarely the Sunny's resident cook takes a break. In addition to that, he also can't help but notice exactly how Sanji chooses to rest.

Whether he's chatting with Robin in the library the lawn or napping with the swordsman on the lawn, it's always with one leg up on the seat, both slung over the back of a chair, or contorted into a position that shouldn't be humanly possible.

Law finds it mildly concerning, but no one else on the crew seems to mind when Sanji stops bustling for half a second and decides to perch himself somewhere (not unlike a gargoyle, Law thinks), so he leaves it alone.

---

Once, he spots the chef sleeping on deck with Zoro, but... upside down. As in, the swordsman is leaning on the mast and Sanji is resting his feet on Zoro's shoulders while his back is on the ground. It looks extremely uncomfortable. He also spots Zoro crack open his eye to peer down at the man, before closing it with a very resigned expression on his face and a light dusting of pink on his cheeks.

Again, this is not his ship and Law most certainly does not want to open that can of worms right now. He leaves the two in peace and hopes they figure it out by themselves.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

ik its not the best but this has been in my drafts for like a week and if i dont post it now im gonna forget about it for like three months so... you guys can have it yeah !! i didn't proofread this either so please lmk if there are mistakes

ANYWAYS Spawned a brand new hc that bc Sanji was locked up for like 5 years he had to teach himself stuff and develops the muscle memory for it wrong and just self-corrects in front of other ppl after learning the right way to do it. i might explore that in a longer fic at a later date, we'll see.

ALSO!!!! by popular demand(read: one person) im gonna start posting on my ao3 soon. Im under SkribblezCorner over there and all my zosan ficlets will be compiled into a series soon! watch out for that yall

#trafalgar law #vinsmoke sanji #roronoa zoro #nico robin #idk shes mentioned so #sanji being a strange little man #zosan if you squint #black leg sanji #ficlet #help i need sleep #sanji brainrot

60 notes · View notes

sihtricfedaraaahvicius · 9 months

Text

Note: I can't leave my fave fighter alone... so here's part 4 of the Fighter fic. Also I've proof read this, but I am incredibly tired, so big chance there are loads of mistaktes; I am sorry.

part 1 - part 2 - part 3.

Warnings: angst/fluff. suggestive, mentions of blood, panic attack, slight violence.

pairing: Modern!Sihtric x you (f)

summary: Sihtric took you to Hawaii, and your relationship would get tested, once again.

wordcount: 3,6k

Masterlist

'Honey, can't we just go somewhere… casual?'

The air in your hotel room was thick with the sounds of heavy breaths, soft giggles, and Sihtric's sweet, dirty whispers in your ear. Soft moans escaped you both every so often.

His muscular arms around your bare shoulders, one hand in your hair, keeping you close while you felt him inside you as you sat in his lap. Your legs hooked around his waist, face buried in his neck while rocking your hips against his, with your arms wrapped around him.

'I love you, and how tight you feel,' Sihtric whispered in your ear, smiling, 'gods, I love my beautiful wife.'

You giggled as Sihtric chuckled softly, his ragged breath tickling your neck along with his long, loose hair.

'And I love you, my husband,' you smiled, eyes closed, just enjoying the feeling of his warm, damp body pressed against yours while you made slow, passionate love.

'I'm so fucking lucky, baby,' he sighed, 'I love you so… so much. You're perfect, you're everything I need in my life.'

You smiled, humming as you slowly ran out of breath, and you leaned your forehead against his, cupping one cheek.

'You're perfect, Sihtric,' you breathed, 'my perfect husband. So hot,' you chuckled lightly and kissed his lips, 'and so sexy,' you giggled when Sihtric looked into your eyes with his half open mismatched pair, 'and so sweet. And you're all mine, champion.'

'All yours,' he nuzzled your nose while his hands trailed down your back, 'I'm all yours, baby,' he whispered and leaned back slightly, watching how you ride him, slowly and sensually, 'so perfect, my love,' Sihtric breathed, slowly licking his lower lip as his hands settled on your hips, 'hmm, yeah, that's really nice,' he smiled, 'my wife is so good to me.'

'All mine,' you smiled, closing your eyes again and biting down on your lip, 'Sihtric Kjartansson,' you chuckled in his ear, 'all. fucking… mine,' you moaned softly.

'All yours, baby girl,' he hummed, 'forever.'

You both gradually started breathing faster, harder, in sync with your movements, and you gently placed your hands on his muscular chest, pushing him to lay down carefully. You were enjoying each other thoroughly, slowly and intensely. You explored every inch of each other's bodies with hands and lips, taking your time. Loving and worshipping each other as newlyweds.

Immediately after you both said 'I do' during your secret beach wedding, you had gone back to the hotel and hadn't left, even though the wedding was two days ago already.

At first, the sex was rough, intense and hard, as well as passionate. Both of you simply filled with adrenaline after getting married, without telling a single soul. But right now, on a hot, sunny, late afternoon in Hawaii, you made the slowest, sweetest and probably most intense love you've ever made.

Sihtric laid down and watched you on top of him, his eyes full of adoration, full of love and most importantly; full of calmness and peace. There was not a single trace of anger inside him right now, only bliss.

Sihtric took your hand in his, and he kissed your wedding ring while you speeded up your pace a little.

'You complete me, baby,' Sihtric whispered. A sudden moan slipped out after he spoke, making you both smile at the unexpected, pleasing sound, and he kissed your ring again, 'you calm me down, bunny, you make me forget about everything, except for you. You're all that matters. I wouldn't want a life without you.'

'Sihtric,' you sighed, smiling, watching him press another kiss to your ring before he placed your hand on his scarred cheek, 'you're all that matters to me, my love. My sweet love,' you leaned in, bringing your body down onto his, moving your fingers up in his hair, 'my everything,' you whispered in his ear, 'I can't imagine a life without you anymore. I love you.'

'And I love you,' Sihtric replied, wrapping his arms around you again and slowly bucking his hips up into yours, 'fuck, I love my wife,' he couldn't stop smiling as he said it.

And it didn't take long until you were both surprised by the unexpected loud, and heavy moans escaping your mouths when you both came, while your love making had been so soft and tender in contrast to the sounds you let out.

'Ready to go, my wife?' Sihtric smiled at you in the mirror, his arms around your waist while you fixed up your hair after the shower you had just taken together. Which you both needed after that intense love making.

'Almost, tiger. Where are we going?'

'No idea,' your husband shrugged, who looked insanely sexy in his white, low cut tank top with the cut out sides.

You loved seeing his body, and you had a weird love-hate relationship with that shirt, because you somehow enjoyed it when other women would stare at your man, because that fine piece of ass was all yours. But you also felt jealous whenever other women would look at him, and you still hadn't found a balance with those two feelings.

'I just hope we can find a place not too crowded,' you said and turned to face Sihtric, who pulled you against his chest.

'I know, bunny, I hope so too,' he pecked your lips, 'you know I don't really like to go out either...'

You both didn't like going out in public, as there would always be people who recognised the man by your side. And you'd always get interrupted because someone wanted a picture or an autograph... Or his number. And some girls even had the audacity to kiss his cheek without asking him first. And Sihtric, always trying to be polite and sweet to his fans, struggled to handle it all as he couldn't say no, worrying that people would think he's a douchebag. He always acts like he doesn't care, and that's not completely fake; he definitely doesn't care what the press think or say about him, or the people who hate him. But he took it to heart if a fan would think he was rude or ungrateful for their support. And the ladies thought it was adorable when he would seemingly become shy after they kissed his cheek, but you knew better. Sihtric wasn't shy, not at all, what they didn't understand was that it was not him being "adorable", it was him shutting down, because he simply does not like to be touched, by anyone, except for you. He'd never wrap an arm around a fan for a photo and never even leaned in, he always kept his distance and just gave a half smile. But most people think they can just touch him and pull him close, because they think they "know" him or have the right to do so, just because he is famous.

'I know,' you sighed and looked away, 'just hope no one will try something,' hinting at a last week, when you were already in Hawaii but not yet married, and had gone for a drink. The evening had gone rather well, until you went to the bathroom and came back to see a group of ladies pushing up to Sihtric. They wanted a picture and felt it was appropriate to shove their hands under his shirt, much to Sihtric's disgace, and you were furious afterwards, not with Sihtric, but with people in general.

'Hey,' Sihtric pushed your chin up towards him, looking down into your eyes, 'you're my wife now, baby, remember that.'

'I'll make sure to remember that when a bimbo kisses your cheek again or touches you up,' you made a face and Sihtric chuckled.

'I always try to avoid that,' he said, 'you know I don't like that either.'

'I know…'

'Good. And you also know that you're the only one who's getting this cock,' Sihtric winked with a smirk and took your hand, placing it on his crotch.

'Yes, but if you want to keep that cock,' you gave him a squeeze, to which he moaned almost desperately, 'you better set boundaries with those fans, or I will set them for you.'

'Y-yeah,' he said, composing himself again, 'you know I'm really working on that.'

'I know, honey,' you held his hands, 'just saying, it's really hard for me to watch them treat you like an object. As if they can just do whatever they want with you, or say whatever they want to you, without your consent or even considering me standing there.'

'I know, and I'm sorry. I didn't ask for any of this either. Just... just stay close, baby?' Sihtric kissed your cheek and embraced you, 'I want you close to me, bunny. Need you by my side, always, but especially in public.'

'I know,' you smiled softly at him, 'but I still think you should get some help for your anxiety, babe, because it's really bad, and it's only gotten worse since that fight at that party. I will always be by your side when I can, but you know I can't always be there.'

'I know,' he sighed, 'when we get back home I'll look into getting help.'

'Promise?' you kissed his lips.

'Promise,' Sihtric kissed your ring and then your lips, 'I promise, my wife.'

'So, where are we going?'

You held Sihtric's hand as you watched the landscape go by from the back of the cab.

'Not sure,' your husband chuckled, 'some fancy place the hotel staff recommended to me a few days ago.'

You sighed quietly. 'Honey, can't we just go somewhere… casual?'

Sihtric looked at you and frowned, 'casual?'

'Like… McDonalds,' you scoffed.

'Babe,' he laughed, 'I… I mean...'

'You know I really appreciate you wanting to take me to these expensive places but it's… it's not me. I always feel so out of place,' you said softly.

'And so do I,' Sihtric said, 'but at least in those places I know the chances of us getting bothered is not that high. But, I mean, if you want to go somewhere else, you know I don't mind. I don't care where we go, as long as I'm with you.'

He kissed the back of your hand and you smiled at him.

'I know. It's just… those places always make me feel like I'm some trophy wife or something.'

'Damn,' Sihtric laughed, but quickly became serious, 'you're not kidding?'

'No, babe,' you sighed, 'I'm just not used to all of that rich and fancy stuff. It makes me feel so strange, and I know you mean well so don't think this is anything personal, honey, it's not. But I know you are also not one of those stuck up rich people. You're too down to earth, as am I, and we don't belong in those places with those people.'

'I know, and you're right,' he agreed, 'but it's all I know, really. Back home I can't go to so-called casual places, it's impossible for me. And… besides, I got all that money so might as well use it,' he said, not to brag, but because it was true, 'and I like spending it on you.'

'I know,' you rolled your eyes with a shy smile.

'What are you rolling your eyes for?'

'Well, remember when my handbag broke, and I went out to the thrift store to find a new one?'

'Yes, and?'

'And I came home to a Louis Vuitton bag you bought me?'

'And?' Sihtric raised an eyebrow.

'Look,' you cupped his cheeks, 'I really appreciate that gesture, but it's not me, darling. I can't… I can't go to a thrift store to find some cool shirts with a fucking LV bag around my shoulder.'

Sihtric laughed at the ridiculous image in his head and he agreed.

'Yeah, I get it. But I like spoiling you,' he said softly.

'I just don't want people to think I'm a golddigger…'

'But you're not,' he scoffed, 'you never ask me for anything.'

'Yes, but people who see us together don't know that. People already think I'm only with you for your money. That I snuck my way into your life by being your physiotherapist…'

'I don't care what they think,' Sihtric sighed, 'we went over this already. Just drop it, baby. Let it go. It's my money. If I want to buy you Gucci socks or a fucking happy meal, then that's my decision.'

You stared at each other, intensely, wondering if this would end in an argument, but then you both broke out in a laugh and he pulled you in his arms.

'Just let me spoil my wife,' he kissed your temple.

'Only sometimes.'

'Fine, only sometimes,' Sihtric smiled, and asked the driver to change the route to a "casual bar".

You ended up in some local bar where, surprisingly, people didn't really bother your husband, despite being very well aware of who he is. Only a handful of people asked for a signature, and those who did were very respectful.

'People are so polite here. Definitely not like back home,' Sihtric had smiled at you as he finished his second cocktail. He took the little umbrella out of his glass and tucked it in your hair, and kissed your lips. 'My wife,' he simply said, smiling, almost shyly as he looked at you, eyes full of love and as if he couldn't believe he was married to you.

The rest of the night at the bar was simply relaxed and fun. You even ended up on the small, packed dancefloor with Sihtric, knowing he had enjoyed one cocktail too many, as he was very handsy while he danced with you, but you didn't mind at all. You just loved seeing him smile so much, and truly being himself, for once, in public. Because not a single soul in that bar had their phone out or paid much attention to the two of you. And you weren't even mad when some grandma stole him from you for a dance, when her requested Lionel Richie song came on, but you gave Sihtric a fake warning look that he was not to get handsy with that lady. And you loved Sihtric's fiery eyes when her husband, also 80-something years old, took your hand to dance and you couldn't help but chuckle at your own husband.

'I thought you were going to knock him out,' you laughed in the cab, on the way back to the hotel.

'I definitely considered it,' Sihtric grinned and kissed you, still glowing from a nice evening out with you, without being stared at or treated differently. But the happiness didn't last much longer after he read a text from Finan.

Finan: hey, congratulations on your wedding, you bastard ;) we expect a big party when you're back.

'What's wrong?' you asked when you saw Sihtric's concerned look.

'Finan knows about our marriage.'

'What? How?'

'I don't know, I just asked him.'

You had both deliberately told no one, in the hopes of having a rather quiet and private holiday, but somehow word got out. And Finan sent an article which was posted about an hour ago, in which your marriage was mentioned.

'How the fuck…' you muttered, 'wait, they even mentioned our hotel?!'

'Fuck,' Sihtric sighed, and he threw his phone next to him on the backseat of the cab.

And the last thing you wanted was the first next thing you got.

Your cab driver pulled up at the hotel, of which the entrance was crowded with journalists, camera crews, and countless people with cellphones out who hoped to get a glimpse of your husband and "his wife". Sihtric tensed up immediately and, despite it being the middle of the night, put on his black sunglasses and held his head down already. The driver, bless him, felt really bad for you both and asked if he should take you somewhere else, but you told him all your belongings were here, as well as Sihtric's medication, which he naturally had forgotten to take with him, so you had to get inside the hotel. You thanked the driver and Sihtric gave him a cash tip so big, the man almost started crying. You thanked the driver again before Sihtric nudged your arm softly.

'Bunny? Just… please,' Sihtric said anxiously, taking your hand, 'stay close, baby, please?'

'I will,' you kissed his cheek, 'I will, my love. Just keep your head down, don't stop for anyone, no matter what, okay? We just have to get inside, they can't follow you inside without being kicked out.'

Sihtric nodded, clearly stressed out and he took a deep breath before he opened the car door, exposing you both to the outburst of loud screams and flashing cameras.

Sihtric got out of the car first and turned to help you out, after which he circled his arm tightly around your waist, and you did the same to him as you tried to make your way through the crowd. Everyone shouted and closed in on you, making it almost impossible to move forward.

Sihtric kept his head down, anxiously holding you in his tight grip while people yelled his name and shoved their cellphones in his face. A few journalists asked about your wedding but you both had nothing to say and tried to move on, until suddenly some stranger grabbed your arm and pulled you away from Sihtric. Who it was, and why it happened, you'll never know. But it happened. And it caused you to be dragged away from Sihtric, who was immediately battle-ready when he lost the feeling of you by his side. Reporters and fans didn't give a fuck about you, they only saw a chance to take your place. While you were pushed and shoved, you vaguely saw Sihtric tense up and grab at his chest, while reporters shoved their cameras and microphones in his face. And when his hidden eyes found you again, while he felt incredibly dizzy and panicked, he saw you had been hurt. Someone had, you hoped, accidentally elbowed you in the rough crowd and your nose was bleeding. Sihtric gave one of the reporters who got too close to him a hard shove as he could only think of getting to you as fast as he could, which caused the reporter to trip and stumble backwards. Being on the verge of a full panic attack and an anger outburst, Sihtric managed to make his way over to you while you wiped your nose with the sleeve of your jacket, and he pulled you close to his chest.

'Baby, get me out,' his voice trembled along with his body as he held onto you, 'please, get me out of here. I- I don't feel well.'

'You're okay,' you took his face in your hands, 'I promise you, you're okay.'

You tried to console him, but Sihtric shook his head. He was not okay, and you knew he was already crying, his dark shades just hid it from the crowd. His chest heaved up and down fast, and your own anger took over this time. You shoved your way through the crowd, who kept putting their hands on you, but mainly on Sihtric. And when some girl tried to push you away to take your place, next to Sihtric, you gave her a hard shove with your shoulder and told her to fuck off.

And when you finally had made your way inside the hotel, you were immediately swarmed by the staff and security, apologising for the way this all got out of hand and asking if you were okay. Sihtric had entirely shut down at this point, keeping his head low and his hands on you at all times. You lashed out at everyone and said you wanted to be left alone, and after that you finally pulled Sihtric in the elevator to your floor.

The silence in the small space was filled with Sihtric's heavy breathing as he buried his face in your neck, and finally allowed himself to break down in your arms.

'It's okay, my love,' you whispered as you held him, 'it's over. It's over now, we made it.'

'Who hurt you?' he asked through his tears when your nose suddenly began to bleed again.

'I don't know, honey, it just happened. I'm fine.'

But something in Sihtric snapped at the sight of your blood, and he suddenly swung his fist into one of the elevator mirrors, smashing it in pieces. You flinched at the sudden movement, and the glass crashed down onto the floor and splintered in tiny pieces, while blood began to spill from his hand.

Not long after the entire incident a few medics knocked at your hotel door. They came to check up on Sihtric and fixed his hand with some stitches and bandages, while you went to explain what happened to the hotel owner and apologised. Sihtric had told you to tell them they should just send the bill and he'd cover all the costs to get that elevator fixed again. But the owner told you it was all okay and even offered to refund the money for your stay, which you declined. You felt it was very kind, but you thought they only offered it because they were afraid of your husband, and didn't want any trouble with him. They also offered you a few nights extra for free, but you and Sihtric already decided to fly back home tomorrow. And in the dead of night you both packed your bags, so you could sleep in a little before getting on the 11AM flight home.

'Do you ever regret being with me?' Sihtric whispered as you were laying face to face in bed, cuddled up after the exhaustive night.

'Of course I don't,' you whispered, your fingers tracing mindless figures over his cheek and his chin, 'why would you ask me that?'

'Because all you want is a normal life,' he took your hand, 'and that's exactly the one thing I can't give you.'

'I just want a life with you, Sihtric, that's all I want,' you kissed the tip of his nose.

Sihtric smiled softly and kissed your wedding ring a few times, 'I don't deserve you, bunny. But, gods, how I need you.'

'You deserve me,' you hushed him with a kiss, 'I don't want to hear that bullshit again. I knew you were going to be a handful as soon as I met you, when you walked into my physio practice and thought you could intimidate me.'

Sihtric laughed softly, 'I can't believe you still married me after that.'

'I saw right through you,' you chuckled, 'you never fooled me with your attitude.'

'I'm sorry,' he sighed quietly, 'for all of that. And for all the trouble I get myself in all the time. And I'm sorry I can't even take you on a holiday without some shit happening… I'm sorry, baby,' his breath hitched as he fought his tears.

'Sihtric Kjartansson,' you whispered, pressing your forehead against his, 'I vowed to love you, all of you, and to be with you, always. Whatever shit we'll have to deal with next, I'll be here, with you, by your side, okay?'

'Promise?'

'I promise,' you said and kissed his wedding ring.

taglist: @clairacassidy @finanmoghra @uunotheangel @hb8301 @bathedinheat @neonhairspray @anaeve @bubblyabs @travelingmypassion @sylas-the-grim @heimtathurs @bubbles-for-all-of-us @andakth @chompchompluke @willowbrookesblog @lady-targaryens-world @skyofficialxx @diosademuerte @elle4404 @alexagirlie @sweetxime

[DM to be added to/removed from taglist! & don’t be shy to like, reblog & comment!🖤]

#sihtric x reader #sihtric x you #sihtric kjartansson #the last kingdom #the last kingdom fic #sihtric fic #sihtric #tlk #modern!sihtric

161 notes · View notes

spidervee · 1 year

Text

Just losing myself in the idea of bookshop owner!reader and tangerine. fem!reader; hella cursing; mentions of terminal illness; tan being an angsty boy; possible I might continue this little ditty 🌻🐝 (p.s. taking requests till dec 31)

Tangerine’s not quite feeling himself.

He’s really going through it and slips out of the rain into the first used bookshop he sees. He’s in New York and has never been in this one before, but he likes the way there’s candles burning, even if the first thought he has is “some fuckin’ insurance adjustor prick’s worst fuckin’ nightmare.”

They’ve got a job that night, he and Lemon, and for the first time ever Tangerine is having doubts about the morality of it all. Fuckin’ Tokyo changed him. Made him soft, he thinks, or maybe made him smart. Made him want to get out of the game, he thinks, but what else is there for a bloke like him? A wife? (She’d have to be a bloody saint to deal with the likes of him). Kids? (Little nippers would drive him crazy, he’s certain). A dog? (…actually, that sounded quite nice so long as he’d never have to go John Wick on any bloke, because he wouldn’t hesitate).

For now, Tangerine reasons, he’ll just have to settle on a book.

And he’s idly moving along the shelves, impressed by the small collection of first edition Dickinson and Emerson titles that have been amassed, his fingers hovering reverently over their spines.

Until he sees you—a sweet-looking thing in a floral get-up that’s garishly at odds with the shite weather outdoors, but for some reason he likes it. Even if his first thought, as he watches you reach to replace something on a shelf over your head, is that your hemline might sneak up just a little further, on accident of course, and he might catch a further glimpse of your thighs.

But you bustle away before he can be a lech and as if you haven’t seen him at all.

And so he’s left there with Emily and Ralph and, he notices now, Langston—whom he pulls from the shelf, dust unsettling to dance in the air around him.

Something catches in his chest, then, because he remembers how he first knicked a copy of Hughes’s collected works for the foster mum he and Lemon had lived with when they were twelve. She’d loved poetry—was the closest thing they’d ever had to family besides each other—with her lilting accent and her deep brown eyes. But shit never lasts. Seven months in and she’d sat them down. Told them about that bullshit diagnosis that gave her three more months, tops, and they knew, faces stoic and unmoving even at that tender age, that they’d be shuffled to somewhere else.

In a moment of forgetting himself—or perhaps in a moment of absolute indulgence to his real and baser self—Tangerine slips the book into the front of his suit jacket. Easy doing. He doesn’t rush out, confident in his theft, taking the time to browse a little while longer before he strolls to the front of the shop to leave.

It’s still piss pouring out there and he scoops up the umbrella he left at the door, about to open it when a soft, tentative voice interrupts.

“Sir?”

He should just keep walking. Just step out into the bloody hurricane and disappear into the crowd. But instead, he turns.

And then he’s face-to-face with you.

And there’s something glinting in your eye—some spark of really seeing—that’s a little unnerving coming from someone wearing such a goddamn sunny dress.

And he knows he’s right and truly fucked.

#bullet train tangerine #tangerine imagine #tangerine bullet train #tangerine x you #tangerine x reader #tangerine x fem!reader #gonna call her kid #Or bub #Oooh he’s in for it tbh #Maybe they fuck in the stacks #Or maybe not #do do do

573 notes · View notes

nyanggk · 2 years

Text

20 DAYS BEFORE HEAVEN — l. hs

⋆*✩⑅◡̈⃝* — news reached your school that a boy in your class has passed away and the last thing expected was for the the reaper to show up inside your room and make a bargain with you. He gives you the chance to go back 20 days to save a boy you barely knew under one condition. the question is, would you do it despite the danger?

⋆*✩⑅◡̈⃝* genre(s) — highschool au, strangers to lovers, romance, angst, supernatural

⋆*✩⑅◡̈⃝* warning(s) — profanity, suicide, internalising disorders, bullying, sexual assault, victim blaming

⋆*✩⑅◡̈⃝* wc. : 15k+

— dont forget to reblog, like, and comment about what you thought abt the fic!! lastly, thank u so so much to our dearest best girl, sei who made this banner for me !! you will forever be remembered ♡ teaser

OCTOBER 15 ༉༊

Ever since you were a mere infant, you loved the rain. Being brought into the world in the rainy month of June, all your birthdays were greeted by a storm. When you were eight years old, you and your parents decided to go to the theme park for your birthday. However, your plans for outside fun were soon soiled when the rain started pouring the second you'd entered the premises.

Instead of being dejected, you were ecstatic. With a wide smile coated across your porcelain childlike face, you ran into the pouring rain with open arms, not giving a single fuck about your hair, clothes, or shoes getting wet nor soggy. In the background, you could hear your parents yelling at you to go back and take shelter, but you tuned them out, in love with the feeling of rain dropping against your skin.

The next day, you woke up with a boiling hot fever. Snot was dripping from your nose, reaching your lips. Being the curiosity filled child that you were, your tongue darted up to taste it, pleased to say that you weren't disgusted by the taste but never willing to admit doing the action in front of anyone. Along that was a pounding headache and a series of sneezes but you didn't regret your actions, not one bit.

Years have gone by and sure, people change. You can say that you have for sure. You've grown taller and quieter. Though, you're still you. The same girl who loved to become one with the rain.

It rarely rained on the city of Seoul but either way, whenever it would, you'd be overjoyed. They say that if the sunny day is excitement, then a cloudy day is a well-earned chance to rest your eyes and cleanse your soul. It's a chance to daydream and breathe in a calm, reflective mood. Those very words expressed how you viewed the much-hated weather.

But today, the sky seemed as if it was sobbing— an overcast day if you would. The clouds were darker, more terrifying compared to the bright and shining ones you would see every other day in the city whenever the year would soon end.

The rain pooled on the ground, creating muddy puddles as you walked towards your school building. A striking yellow umbrella in one hand, protecting you from the droplets of rain while the other hand grips your jacket tighter, trying to obtain more warmth.

Stepping inside the building, you shake your umbrella, trying to get rid of the water that clung to it. The water detaches itself from your umbrella, lightly sprinkling everywhere. After, you put it somewhere inside of your locker where you were sure none of your papers would get soaked.

For some odd reason, as you walk down the hallway towards your classroom, you can't help the heavy feeling that's weighing on your chest. You wonder, was there a possibility you missed something? Did you have homework that you forgot to bring? Was there supposed to be a quiz today and you didn't study? No, none of those could've been it. Being the honor student that you were meant you had to be ahead of every lecture, assignment, project, and anything that correlated to your academics and you did just that. You always carry with you a planner that holds all your schedules and work deadlines so that you could rest assured that you never missed anything.

Loud chatter fills your ears as you step inside your classroom. Some of your classmates sat atop of their desks while the others stood up as they huddled up with one another, gossiping, you assumed. You lay your belongings on top of your table, taking a seat beside the window so you could look out and watch as multiple students ran to enter the school gates, practically drenched by the rain with only their bags to shelter them from the pouring rain. A few more minutes pass and you finally hear the school bell ring, signaling that classes were starting.

Your classmates hurry to resume their places back into their own seats, not wanting to be caught out of place by your advisor and have an earful early in the rainy morning. The chattering and the noises stop when your homeroom advisor enters the room with a somber look. She takes her eyeglasses off with a sigh, resting her palms on either side of her desk upfront.

She's tense, you could easily tell. It makes you wonder what had happened for her to act like that as you fix your gaze onto her completely. You're used to your advisor's usually bright and bubbly expression whenever she comes skipping inside the room so for her to turn like this means that something awful must've happened for her aura to stray so far from her usually energetic personality.

"Alright, guys. Can I have your attention please?" Your adviser calls out. All eyes fixate themselves on her figure, giving her the attention she wants as they wait for her to continue. "I have some very sad news that I need to share with all of you. Your classmate, Lee Heeseung," She sighs out as if merely speaking the boy's name is hard for her. "He... He won't be with us anymore."

A moment passes in silence before one of your classmates stands to speak up. "Huh?" He wonders. "Did Heeseung transfer?" He asks, voicing out your own thoughts.

"No," She answers, shaking her head "l hope that was the case." She whispers.

This time, a boy with strikingly white hair and pale skin raises his hands before standing up. This time you were familiar with him. His name, based on your recollection, is Park Sunghoon. Like your other classmates, you've never interacted with the boy. Thus meaning that you knew little to nothing about him. The only thing you could remember about him was his face and that he belonged to the same popular friend group as the boy in question, Lee Heeseung. "Then where is he? He didn't even bother telling us where he went and hyung never does that." He says.

"H-He... Uhm," Your adviser stutters before tightly closing her eyes, gripping the edges of her table even tighter to the point where her knuckles turned white and her nails dug into the wood. You can tell she's holding her tears back as much as she can. As to why, you're still not sure and you stay seated there, waiting to find out.

With a deep exhale, she finally continues. "Lee Heeseung won't be joining us anymore. Last night, the police found his dead body inside his apartment and that they've suspected that... that," Her voice breaks when she continues, saying, "He had overdosed on sleeping pills the night prior."

Time seemed to have passed and yet, no one dared to move in their seat when those words left your advisor's mouth. Your classmates looked shocked, faces showing disbelief at the news she had just dumped on them.

"W-what?" You hear one of your classmates ask. You remember his name being Jake.

Sim Jaeyun. Member of the soccer club and Lee Heeseungs closest friend.

You had seen the two boys bond with each other all around campus. Lee Heeseung and Sim Jaeyun were in the same class as you as well as some of their other friends but you've observed that the two were the closest to each other despite the latter being a year younger. Although Lee Heeseung was older, they had managed to form an incredible friendship that you envied, so truly envied.

You're no outcast per se, you just detested the company of people and prefered to be alone, wanting to focus on getting out of this hell hole than creating connections. However, even loners yearn for some company from time to time. You've just never bothered to scout for the right people that matched well with your personality.

Resuming, the poor boy is frozen in his seat, looking as if he was about to break down. Your eyes are trained on the way he clenches his fist into a ball with overwhelming amounts of force. It wouldn't be a shock to you if you see his hand bleed due to his nails digging into it.

"I'm sorry, Jaeyun." She apologises, her expression sad as she looks at the boy. "I wish it was a lie too but it's true, he's dead."

"Th-That can't be! We were just talking about what we were going to do for his bi—" All of a sudden, he stops talking. His eyes turn wide as if something had just dawned on him and his hand comes to cover his mouth in shock. You can see the boy's whole body start to tremble and you knew he going to break down into tears any minute now. Sim Jaeyuns chair screeches back as he runs out the room and your teacher does nothing to stop him, understanding that he was Lee Heeseungs closest friend and that this whole news is even more haunting for him.

You watch as all your classmates bow their heads down, a heavy feeling looming around the room as everyone mourns Lee Heeseungs death. Some even start crying in their seats; one of them being Jay, otherwise known as Park Jongseong, another one of Lee Heeseungs friends.

"Heeseungs family will be having his funeral tomorrow and... I hope you all can come." Your teacher says. "We won't be having any lessons for the entirety of this day and you can all go home early. We just want to give you all some time to mourn such a bright student's unfortunate death. Class dismissed."

Now, you've found the reason why the air was so gloomy and why the rain didn't seem to stop no matter how long it's been pouring. It was because the sky was crying, mourning the death of Lee Heeseung.

"Y/N? God, I just heard the news."

As soon as you step inside your home, your mom is there to envelop you in a warm hug. She places your head on her shoulder as she caresses the back of your hair— something your mother has always done when consoling you.

"I wasn't even that close with the guy." You say, words coming out automated as you assumed she was talking about the suicide announcement that your advisor had made not even an hour ago. "How did you find out anyway?"

"Mrs. Lee told me." She says, frowning afterwards. "Don't tell me you didn't know the Lees are our neighbors?"

Your expression is a dead giveaway that this is new news to you. You're never one to dwell on your mother's business since you had no interest in gossiping nor did you have time to with all the studying you were doing. However, it does come out as a surprise to you that Lee Heeseung lived close to you and yet, the two of you never seemed to have bumped into each other.

"Gosh, YN. You really should stop and listen in sometimes. I know I'm your mother and I'm supposed to be happy that my child is a genius but I don't want you to waste your youth." Again, she's frowning at you.

What's so bad about wanting to focus on school? It's not like being stupid will make a difference.

"It's fine mom. I'm okay." You assure.

"Nonsense. I'll tell you what, I'll go into the kitchen and make you some soup. You can go and take that upstairs. You're looking too thin these days." Once again, her motherly nature surfaces.

"Sure, Mom. That'd be nice." She smiles at you, feeling satisfied with your answer and afterwards scurrying into the kitchen to bring you some food to eat.

You lay down on your bed, staring at the blank ceiling of your bedroom. The chicken noodle soup your mom had made for you sat cold and untouched on top of your desk, making no move to eat it.

Lee Heeseung isn't a close friend of yours nor was he an acquaintance. He was just simply a boy in your class that seemed to have his life put together. From what you knew, the boy had excellent grades, powerful friendships, and skills that exceeded everybody's expectations.

He was a boy with a smile that could rival the suns.

You remember catching sight of him while he was talking with one of his friends. The other must've said something extremely funny because that day, you were graced to see the way Lee Heeseungs eyes crinkled in happiness, his nose scrunching in glee, and his teeth on full display as he laughed; his head thrown back and his protruding adam's apple bobbing every time he gulped while doubling over with laughter.

"That's all I knew of him." You lie.

But why was his death affecting your mood this much? Maybe because he was such a nice and talented boy that you saw it as a great shame he had to go so early.

Eventually, your mind wandered around why he did what he did. Granted, you knew nothing about the boy's personal life but you could only imagine how hard it was for him to push himself into committing such a horrific act.

He took his life.

Was it because behind that bright and perfect smile was a boy bearing a shattered soul? What drove him to do something like this?

You're a quiet person and you usually stay in your own company. You don't like big crowds and you loved it whenever it rained because it made you feel at peace whenever you listened to the way it pitter-pattered, drenching everything and anything blocking its way, but today, you just wished it stopped.

The rain reminds you too much of Lee Heeseung, the boy who took his life and the rain is making you feel restless.

You hope wherever he is right now, that he's finally at peace with himself. You hope that he's happy and that he can rest. Again, you never bothered to get close with anyone, meaning you never knew Lee Heeseung personally but you wish, for once, that you could have done something, anything, to change his mind.

OCTOBER 16 ༉༊

As you open your eyes to greet a new daydream, you immediately frown. The skies are so dark and bitter that you don't even notice that it's now morning. There's no sign of the bright warm sun on top of a blue horizon nor are there any white fluffy clouds covering the sky.

A storm is brewing and it's evident it'll hit your area soon.

Tempestuous, bleak, and angry.

The heavens are angry.

It's the next day but you didn't get a wink of sleep. You supposed it was because of the never-ending thoughts that flowed inside your head.

It may have been two days since Lee Heeseung died, assuming that he killed himself at the strike of twelve on his birthday. You still can't wrap your head around it nor can you stop wondering why it's affecting you so much.

Still, you begrudgingly get up from your bed. You look around and everything is the same spot it used to be and nothing has changed. Your books are still in the same place on top of the shelves, your cabinet is still open like how you left it, heck, even the wall clock that's been there for five years is standing strong. So why is it that you feel so lost?

Fuck Lee Heeseung.

"Can you stop occupying every single space in my brain for at least five minutes?"

The boy is dead yet he's bothering you even more than when he was alive.

You groan once you hear your bitter thoughts. Immediately, you realize how cruel you were being and you mutter a silent apology to the boy in heaven before falling back onto your bed.

A soft knock on your door catches your attention as your mom's head peeks through the space. "Darling, Are you awake?"

You sigh. "Yeah. I'm up, Mom." You reply dryly, feeling the symptoms of a headache brewing inside your head.

"Great. Get ready, we're going to Heeseungs in a few minutes."

Lee Heeseungs funeral was a poor sight to witness.

Everybody at the funeral was either crying, yelling out for the dead boy to come back, or had a sad look on their face. Bouquets of pretty and colourful flowers decorated the place and you wished you got the time to bring one for him too. There's also a huge chandelier hung in the middle of the room and rows of chairs adorned the place. At the front is a huge picture of the boy, smiling brightly like how you've mentioned before; lively and perfect. If only the casket holding his dead body wasn't there, then you might have smiled too.

The room was packed with Lee Heeseungs friends, relatives, and classmates. You even spot some of your teachers in the room as they pay their respects and you're not at all shocked when you see the school principal there either.

Your school principal is a fake, to say the least. You've watched him work and you've seen the way his face falls and scrunches in disgust when a person's back is turned to him. When he doesn't get his way, he manipulates people like the bastard he is just so he can get what he wants. You scowl as you watch him look into Lee Heeseungs casket, fake tears rolling down his cheek, continuing his act to seem like he cared for his students. You choose to ignore his presence for the time being because this night isn't about him, it's about Lee Heeseung and you intend to keep it that way.

A couple dressed in white stood at the front, right beside Lee Heeseungs coffin, catching your attention.

Trailing behind your mother, you follow as she walks towards the said couple, greeting them with a sad smile, proving the hunch you had that these people were Lee Heeseungs family.

"Hello, you must be YN. " The woman says, smiling fondly at you as she reaches for your hands, holding them inside hers and although her hands were cold due to the air-conditioned room, you let her. "Heeseung told us so much about you."

At her statement, you're only able to reply with a confused smile. This confuses you because as you recall, you've never had any sort of interaction with Lee Heeseung that'll leave him wanting to tell his parents about you. You weren't close friends, nor were you ex-friends. So why does it seem like his mother already knows a lot about you?

"Mom!"

Suddenly, a boy who looked a few years older than you yelled from a few meters away, effectively catching your attention. He takes a quick jog towards you and scratches the back of his neck, awkwardly. "Hi, I'm Lee Heewon. Heeseungs older brother." He introduces, stretching his hand towards you.

"It's nice to meet you" You smile politely, grabbing his hand before releasing it. "I'm YN."

Lee Heeseungs older brother nodded, however, it seemed as if he already knew that.

He reaches to wrap his hand around his mother's waist, whispering something to her. She replies with a confused look, scrunching her brows together and eyes squinting in confusion, yet she replies with a nod either way. Lee Heeseungs brother pulls away, looking at you and then asking if you would follow him.

Although confused, you agree. "Mom I'll be right back, okay?" You tell your mother who is now sitting on one of the chairs, talking with Lee Heeseungs parents. She simply smiles at you and agrees, letting you off on your own with the boy before turning back to their conversation.

Looking back at the male, you nod as he gestures for you to follow him towards the corner of the room, where not that many people were around so the two of you could have a conversation in private.

"Hi, so uh. Listen." He starts, eyes unable to look at yours as they shift everywhere, feeling awkward. "Heeseung-ie... he told us a lot about you because— uh, y'know what, I— I don't think it's my place to tell you this."

"Huh?" You reply, stunned.

"Sorry, forget it." He dismisses. "It's just... he said he was going to do it." He finally heaves out.

By the way his hands started getting clammy and shaky, you could tell the boy was nervous to tell you something. "I'm sorry but I don't understand what you're trying to say."

He releases a hefty breath befor continuing, "Heeseung, he likes you, or at least he did." He whimpers at that, hands coming up to comb his unruly hair. "He would talk to us a lot about you and we always teased him about it because... he just couldn't confess to you." He finishes with a sad laugh. "B-but now, he's g-gone and..." His voice trails off and his face wears a sad smile as he remembers the moments he spent with his dear brother.

Upon hearing those words, you stood rooted to your spot, unable to form a coherent sentence to respond to him. Like you've said before, you and Lee Heeseung were never close so when you found out that he had that big of a crush on you, so big that he couldn't help but tell his family, you were speechless, to say the least. "He... likes me?"

The older male chuckles, incredulous. "You didn't know?"

You shake your head in response, "We weren't really close."

"Damn, if Heeseung-ie heard you say that right now, he probably would've cried himself to sleep. The guy basically only had eyes for you." He comments, shaking his head as he laughs at the possibility.

Lee Heeseung likes me.

A sudden memory from about twenty days ago flashes in your mind and you're reminded of the time when you found a cute letter that was slid inside your locker on one warm afternoon.

'Hi, Y/N! If you're free, can you please meet me on the rooftop after classes end?

- your secret admirer ♡'

The short yet adorable note made your heart flutter and your chest bubble up in excitement as you read it. No one had ever bothered to confess to you, much less become your secret admirer. With you being so focused on your studies, you never made it a task to make yourself look good to please yourself and even more for other people. Of course you never want anyone to see you at your worst but at the end of the day, you don't really care as long as you don't look at yourself in the mirror.

After reading the letter multiple times, you finally concluded that you'd spent enough time fangirling and so, you eagerly folded the note and put it in a safe place inside your locker afterwards.

You were a loner, had no friends, and were basically isolated from everyone. You did feel sad about the fact you couldn't go to someone and gush about the letter to them— with no friends or siblings to approach, to whom were you supposed to go? But as you stood there alone on top of the rooftop with the sweet letter at hand, you were glad you didn't have anyone as you were greeted by no one other than the faltering light of the sunset.

No sign of anyone and certainly no signs of your secret admirer.

So it was him.

Lee Heeseung, you fucking coward.

'Why did he not show up? Was he too embarrassed? What on earth did I even do to make him like me? Well, if he bailed on me just like that then he mustn't have liked me as much as his brother says he does.'

So many questions flew around your head that you didn't even notice that long gone was Lee Heewon, older brother of Lee Heeseung and instead, your mother stood in his place. The tapping on your shoulder is what brings you back to your consciousness, your eyes turning to look at your mother as she continues to look at you in wonder.

"Sorry, just spaced out." You apologise, blinking.

The evening goes on smoothly— as smooth as you'd expect a funeral to be. You saw his friends there; Sim Jaeyun, Park Jongseong, Park Sunghoon, and a few other juniors that you've seen around campus. Although you had so many questions in mind— so many questions to ask him, you brushed them off and prayed for his well-being up there with God instead, hoping that he was no longer suffering.

His father, along with many others, gave tribute to the boy in the form of a long and heartfelt speech. With suicide grief, they’re dealing with trauma on top of the loss. With most people who die by suicide, it’s usually violent or tragic in some way— like what happened to Lee Heeseung. So, the person grieving has to deal with the fact that a person chose to take their life and that is how they died. That changes the grief process entirely.

Death can be tragic, like a murder or a car vehicle accident. But the stigma around suicide still exists today, and so family members have to contend with that piece as well. It makes their grief different.

"... I'm sure to everyone here, you all know that Heeseung was a kind and caring son. He was also a hardworking and honest student. A fun and talented friend." He continues. Your eyes danced across the room and situated themselves on his friends that were sitting in front. All of them were crying, gripping each other closer as they hugged one another, afraid that if their grip loosened, one of them might leave the others behind— just like their fallen sibling has. "And I'm sure he was a wonderful stranger to many of you as well."

"We'll never accept his death, for our Heeseung was one of a kind. Our family will continue to carry the sadness of losing him as grief is not something we ever get over, and it doesn’t ever stop. What we'll learn to do is grow around our grief, to encompass it and incorporate it or manage it into our own life,” He says. “We walk with it.”

“Every time you turn around— there’s a reminder of him, there’s a statement, there’s a feeling, there’s an emotion— and we ask you to not look past it,” His father says. “As we walk with this grief of losing him, we also hope that you don't forget him. Even though he isn't here anymore— physically, our family hopes that you'll still carry your memories of him inside your heart. Where he'll be forever until we see him again."

It's already nine in the evening when you get home. Feeling exhausted, you step inside the darkness of your room with a sigh, carelessly tossing your bag onto your desk as you plop down on your bed, staring at the ceiling— something you've been doing so much as of recently.

"Lee Heeseung..." You say to no one in particular. "You're such a loser"

"Ouch," a voice suddenly says. Your eyes unnaturally widen in shock as you sit up from the position you previously laid in because as far as you knew, there's no one in your room besides you. Looking at the knob on your door, you see that it's locked, making it even more impossible for someone to come inside without you noticing. "That was a little harsh, dont you think?"

But finally, there, in the corner of your room, you watch as the figure of a boy suddenly appears out of thin air. He stood there with a smirk playing across his red lips. He has stunningly dark hair, a pointed nose, and cheeks that look lively and soft. You would assume he was just some normal boy who slipped into your bedroom but the intimidating dark aura that coats his figure, spreading throughout the space of your room says otherwise.

A sense of fear envelops you as you stand up, stance as if ready to fight. "Wh-who are you!?"

"Ah, that's a complicated question, y'know. I go by many names." He says. "Some call me the Grim Reaper, some call me Death but I prefer the name Sunoo the most so make sure to call me by that!"

What

the

actual

fuck

Sunwoo— or whatever his name is, smiles deviously at you. His eyes crinkle in amusement as he watches you with your mouth agape, struggling to wrap your head around the fact that an otherworldly being might actually be in your room wearing a plaid shirt and Nike sweatpants.

"Th-this can't be happening. This is all just a dream." You say, smiling freakishly as you move to pinch your arm, hoping to wake up from whatever nightmare this is, but all you do is yelp at the pain you've caused yourself. Feeling the pain you inflicted, your eyes take frantic turns looking at your reddened arm and the magical being sighing defeatedly at you.

"Listen," He calls out for your attention. Hearing the authority in his voice makes you tense up, stopping all your actions in the process. Your ears are tingling for some unknown reason but you can only guess that it's because of the overwhelming amount of panic being struck in your veins. "I'm here because I need a favour from you—"

Before he could continue with what he was saying, you cut him off "No! No, you can not have my soul!" You scream out, hugging your body tightly around your shaking arms.

His eyes widen, index finger coming up to his lips to shush you "Stop. I'm not here for your soul—"

"Good because I'm not giving it to you anyways." You humph. You're still scared of the boy as his powers and true intentions are still unknown to you. However, hearing that he isn't here to take your soul just yet is already enough for you to relax and gain some sort of fake confidence.

"Will you stop cutting me off for a goddamn minute!" He shouts in a whispering manner. "I'm starting to regret coming to you for help."

Your eyes squint. "What did you just say?"

"Okay," He says before releasing a breath. "Do you want Lee Heeseung to come back?" He asks you slowly, watching your every move as if he expected you to scream out for your mother if he's not careful.

Thankfully— or not, you don't. All you do is stand there, unmoving. In a swift move, Sunoo pushed himself off the wall he was leaning up against and made a cautious step towards you.

"Do I want to... what?"

Sunoo sighs in relief, thanking his familiars that your body hasn't frozen due to shock and that he doesn't have to collect another young body again. "Do you want Lee Heeseung to live again?"

"H-How is that even possible to begin with?"

"I can make it happen. I can send you back twenty days from now to when he was still alive and you can change his future." He explains. "Only if you are willing to."

"Why me? Why not his friends? I'm sure they'd be willing to help. "

The Grim Reaper shrugs, "I simply don't believe they can change the outcome and besides, I wouldn't have chosen you if I didn't think you could do it." He explains, smiling softly at you.

You stay in place, taking a moment to catch up with your thoughts as well as the events that are currently taking place. The reaper, who took the form of an incredibly charming looking boy, is inside your room asking if you would be willing to go back exactly twenty days so you could—

Wait, what?

"Twenty days? Why twenty days? There must be some sort of reason."

"Because it took Lee Heeseung exactly twenty days to decide whether or not he was going to kill himself or not." Hearing that, you nod.

"And what will happen if I fail?" You ask, looking him in the eye. Afraid of what the answer might be, you caress your earlobe; a habit you had developed over the years when you would get nervous. "There must be some sort of consequence for tampering with time like this."

"I'm afraid there is, yes." The Reaper answers, head bowing in defeat. "Apollyon. If he finds out that I've messed with the cycle, he's going to try and do everything he can to stop you. He might hurt you or Heeseung I’m not sure. Although he can't kill you, there’s a possibility he might hurt you if you defy him." He exhales.

"But don't worry too much about it." He composes himself and continues, "I'll try and do everything I can to stop him. If you succeed, then Lee Heeseung will come back and he'll be alive."

This creature in front of you, this conversation, it all feels surreal. Naturally, your mind jumbles through all the possible horrendous outcomes of this bizarre situation. Someone could get fatally injured— not just you but the innocent could too. Is the life of someone you barely knew really worth all the pain you might cause someone else? Is it worth it to play this dangerous game of tag with Apollyon?

Lee Heeseung is someone you barely had no connections to. Besides the fact that you share a few classes together and have interacted even fewer, you knew nothing of the boy. The only feeling you have of him is a slight distaste but even that seems like a lie.

If only you didn't know that he was such a good person. If only you didn't know that he was a volunteer tutor at the daycare. If only you didn't see how many people loved and cried for him when they heard the news. If only you didn't know that he committed suicide on the same day as his birthday. If only you didn't see the way his bullies punched him.

Maybe, just maybe, if you didn't know any of these, you would've declined. But you couldn't.

Why is it that even despite hearing the danger you'll face, you're still yearning to agree?

If you had the chance to save someone's life, wouldn't you debate on saying yes as well?

There's a risk of you getting harmed but you throw that away because there's only one thing that occupies your head.

"Don't worry too much, once you've completed your task and I'm assured of Heeseungs future, I'll take you back to the present." His smile somewhat brought a tinge of comfort in you, finding a small bit of relief at the small gesture which only further jumbled your mind.

"I... fuck— Okay."

Lee Heeseung can come out of this whole mess alive. It's damn worth a try, isn't it? There's a possibility that everyone will be able to see that endearing smile again. You can save him from his unfortunate future. And lastly, you can give his grieving family their son back.

So, with feigned bravery, you nodded before breathing out heavily, eyes locking with Sunoo's. "Let's do it."

Upon hearing your agreement, he expresses his happiness with your decision with an excited giggle. You're left once again to debate whether he was actually supposed to be what people called 'Death' as he claps his hands, finding him inconveniently cute. "Yes!" He cheers. "Tomorrow, when you wake up, it will be September twenty-five— exactly twenty days from now. Everything that happened before will be the same, except for the things you will change, of course. Remember YN, you only have one shot at this. I'll be with you along the way so don't hesitate to call me if you feel like you're being watched or just simply need help. I'm rooting for you."

Change Lee Heeseungs fate. Sounds easy enough.

The Reaper— I mean, Sunoo grabs your shoulders and you still as he pushes you gently so you could sit on the edge of your bed. You give him a weird look but say nothing in return, getting the signal that he probably wanted you to go to sleep now.

"Good luck, Y/N." You hear him whisper before your eyes close, suddenly feeling incredibly heavy as you fall into an effortless slumber. Being an insomniac meant that you didn't spend a lot of time sleeping at night. But as the moon shone, joined by the soft sound brought by the pitter-patter of the rain, you fell into one of the most comfortable slumbers you've had in a long long time.

"Y/N! Darling you're going to be late for school!"

The piercing sound of your mother's voice mixed with the relentless knocking on your door makes you jolt awake. Indeed, as you turn to look at the huge clock in your room, you're late.

You bolt up, making a beeline towards your dresser, grabbing your uniform and hurriedly putting it on, not caring to bathe or comb your unruly hair. However, when you catch sight of your calendar, you stop, limbs frozen in place as your eyes focus on the piece of paper.

September 25...

'Fuck, so that wasn't some weird dream after all.' You physically slap yourself for forgetting such crucial information, your forehead stinging because of your actions— though, you don't have the time to look if a red mark shaped like your hand is imprinted on it or not, before shrugging it off and focusing on continuing to put your clothes on. If you don't get to school today then you'll miss an important chance to find out something about the boy— and no one wants that.

After saying goodbye to your mother, you step outside, the rays of sunlight hitting you. The warmth of it makes you feel cozy in contrast to the feeling of the heavy rain you've been experiencing since a day ago— or should you say in the future? You have no idea.

"This time travel shit is messing with my head."

"Just stop thinking about it and it'll be easier." A voice says, popping out of nowhere, making you jump.

"Will you stop doing that!?" You scream out, feeling lucky that no one is in the vicinity to witness your outburst. "Seriously, you're going to give me a heart attack before I even get to Lee Heeseung."

"By the way, why do you call Heeseung 'Lee Heeseung'?" Sunoo asks. "Sounds a bit too formal for a classmate don't you think?"

"That's because we aren't close." You reply monotonously as you fish for your planner inside your bag, sighing gratefully once you've found it.

All you get is a hum from the boy before he disappears and you let out a satisfied hum of your own, happy that he's left you alone to do your own bidding.

As you step inside the establishment of your school, you go straight to the destination of your locker. After entering the right combination, it prompts open with a click and there, you see it. Your heart flutters the same way once again as you see the familiar note but this time, it makes you smile sadly, knowing what'll happen to the sweet boy who gave it to you— not to mention how he stood you up that evening either, or this evening? You still have no idea why your secret admirer, who you now knew was actually Lee Heeseung, ditched you when he was supposed to confess but you're sure as hell that you're going to find out why.

Instead of putting the letter back in your locker as you did before, you grasp it in your hands, making the sudden call to look for the boy who gave it to you, wanting to see that he was alive and well.

However, as your eyes scan over the halls, you find no traces of Lee Heeseung. A sudden feeling of nervousness consumes your chest as you look around for him but fail to spot a single trace of him or his friends. Before you get a chance to search the school grounds for him, however, the school bell rings, signaling that classes are going to start soon. Begrudgingly, you make your way inside the classroom you've been in several times before.

The looming feeling of nervousness drops, your breathing fastening when you finally catch sight of him.

Lee Heeseung is there, sitting on top of his desk, his nose wrinkling the same way his eyes are. His smile is bright and it showed his perfect teeth as he laughed at whatever conversation he and his friends were having.

You don't care about the conversation, you care about him being there, looking so real that you almost ask yourself if you were dreaming until you remember what you're here for and why you've gone twenty days back into the past.

After finding out from his family that he likes you, all of the longing gazes and the shy smiles he sends you whenever the both of you make the smallest and shortest eye contact are now so crucially visible to you it hurts that you were so dense before not to notice.

As you make your way towards your usual seat beside the window, you almost miss the way his eyes trained on you and the letter you held inside your hands.

Lee Heeseung, why is my heart hurting?

From the corner of your eye, you can see the way he bites his lip nervously as you open the letter he sent you.

Like before, nothing has changed in the letter; it's the same words, the same question, the same handwriting, and the same stupid little heart that he put at the end of the note. You smile adoringly at the letter, folding it neatly before tucking it inside your bag as if it's a treasure.

From across the room, Heeseung suppresses his grin when he catches you reading the letter he slid inside your locker. His heart bubbles up in happiness to see that you didn't gag at the sight of it, knowing that you weren't the romantic type and basically never showed any kind of interest towards male suitors. Even though you barely ever throw a glance his way, his heart seemed to have a mind of its own when it fell for you. He admired your effortless beauty and the way you were so driven to always come out on top.

The first time he saw you was years ago when you had just moved into his neighborhood. He remembers looking out of the window, annoyed at all of the noise the truck hauling your furniture was making. His scowl immediately left his face however when he caught sight of you trying to pick up a box that looked like it was twice your weight. From his window, he watched as your small, flimsy body struggled to carry just one box inside.

He could have offered some help but the thought flew way past little Heeseungs mind as he was too shy to approach you at that time. Years have passed and it seems as if nothing has changed over the years. Sure he's grown taller, and gained more confidence— he could even say he was more attractive than most. But whenever it came to you, all his ego seemed to fly out the window and he would go back to the same shy boy he used to be.

However, nearing the age of nineteen he's grown tired of it all. That's why he slid that letter inside your locker, opting to make a big change. Its purpose is to finally express to you his undying feeling of admiration. And he's determined to pull through with it.

After minutes of hearing the same lecture, the school bell eventually rings, signaling that classes are finished and that you can all go and take your breaks. Yes, this meant lunch for your growling stomach. However, this is also the time Lee Heeseung is supposed to confess to you on the rooftop but will eventually fail to do so and you ought to find out why he stood you up. So, you hurriedly gather all your things, trying to catch up to the boy so you could follow closely behind him.

Making sure none of your stuff got left behind, you dash towards the door, eager to follow the said boy when a sudden voice calls out to you. "YN, Can I talk to you for a second?"

Fuck. You forgot today is the same day your teacher asks you to stay behind in class. It's so he could talk to you about the details regarding the literary contest in Busan that the school is going to compete in in three days. As the top student in your year, you're good at many things that involve using your wit, intelligence, and logic— physical labor isn't your strongest asset, thus, you're always the top option whenever it comes to district competitions.

The conversation doesn't go the same as before— the result of your intention to leave immediately. However, it doesn't end as quickly as you'd like it to. Your English teacher is known to be a chatterbox throughout the students of your year as he's known to beat around the bush, prolong the conversation, and dwell on non-school related topics— all of which you don't appreciate at the moment, but either way, much to your distaste, the conversation goes longer than you want it too.

If this continues, you might not be able to catch Lee Heeseung at all and he'd think that you stood him up.

"Right. Great. I understand. I'll make sure to send you an email if I have any questions just like you said. Bye!" You say all in one breath, giving the man a thumbs up before sprinting out of the room, giving him no space or time to open his goddamn mouth which smelled like outdated anchovies by the way.

Frantically, you search every hallway in your building, desperate to find Lee Heeseung before it's too late. As you near the corner leading towards an exit, you hear a loud slam— as if something or someone was thrown against the lockers, followed by a thump as it hits the ground.

Peaking at the edge of the corner, careful not to be seen, you see three boys huddled around one guy who looked vulnerable amongst the others and you immediately recognise who these people are. To any outsider, they would assume that these people are your typical high school bullies who liked to pick on people for fun but no.

These people, they're dangerous.

Associating oneself with these people automatically gives you a free pass into doing whatever wrong you can imagine. With their leader being the son of the biggest investor of your school, Choi Yeonjun, meant that every teacher, staff, and even the guidance counselor you're encouraged to approach for help will turn a blind eye to their actions as they tell you to forget the events ever happened. Beside him is Choi Beomgyu, a boy with undeniable anger issues. One trigger, one wrong action or move will have you six feet underground with him waving you off.

"Yah, Heeseung." One of them squatted down beside the said boy, who stayed seated on the filthy ground. You could only assume that the third guy who's squatted down beside him is Kang Taehyun as with him, their trio would finally be complete. Your eyes go wide as the realization hits you that the boy being picked on is actually Lee Heeseung, the boy you've been searching for for the past five or so minutes.

'So this is why he couldn't meet me at the rooftop before.'

When Lee Heeseung doesn't give any sort of reply, they scoff in annoyance, throwing a harsh kick on his stomach. Although you weren't the one hit, you wince in pain as you could only imagine the torture Lee Heeseung is going through.

"Come on, Heeseung-ssi. Just do as we say and we'll stop bothering you." Kang Taehyun says, grabbing a fist full of Heeseungs hair in his hands and forcing the boy to look up. "It's that simple."

Now, you can see the boy's face clearly— all thanks to the asshole that was pulling his hair away from his face. Lee Heeseungs lip is bruised up and there's a stray line of blood dripping down towards his chin. There's also blood gushing out from the damaged skin of his cheekbone, undoubtedly punched. By who? You have no idea but you could only guess it's from one of them.

"Fuck you." He spats out to the boy who's gripping his hair, blood mixing in with his saliva. From his position standing up, Yeonjun only scoffs in utter disbelief, poking his tongue on the side of his cheek to show his impatience.

Kang Taehyun wipes his face slowly using his hands. You can tell he's annoyed however he doesn't show it. Only showing how his temper has been running thin, and now, even thinner because of the blood mixed with saliva running down from his eye all the way to his cheek. "You son of a bitch!" He screams out before throwing a nasty punch at Lee Heeseungs already damaged cheekbone, worsening the wound. "Why're you defending that whore anyways, huh? I thought you liked that quiet kid in your class. Did she get too boring or did she finally find out how much of a stalker you are?"

Closing your eyes, you take a deep breath trying to calm yourself down but it seemed that doing so only made it worse as now, you're focused on their voices, their words, and at the way, every kick, punch, and slap is directed towards Lee Heeseung.

The three of them let out an annoyingly loud laugh and it makes your skin crawl. Tearing your eyes away from the scene, you lean against the wall, unsure of what to do. You're sure you want to help Heeseung but the question is how?

You're itching to do something, anything just to make all of it stop because you can't bear hearing his grunts every time they throw a punch his way or his small screams of pain as they kick his stomach. Lastly, you can't bear hearing their insults, the names they call him. Lee Heeseung doesn't deserve any of it but what can you do? There's only a handful of options you can think of that may benefit the both of you in the outcome. You can't just go out there to fight them. You're no boxer and you're certainly no athlete. One punch from them can easily knock you out, rendering you useless. The option of going out there and threatening them with a weapon isn't good either. It's three against two and you dont think Lee Heeseung can even stand up and fight so really, it's just you against three well-built bullies.

Running out of time and favourable solutions, you choose to run. With all the strength you could muster, you dash away from the scene, running out of the building, praying to God that you find someone, anyone who you know is willing to help you fight against them.

His friends are your first option so you scurry around trying to find at least one of them when finally, sitting there at the bottom of the stairs leading towards the rooftop, you see Sim Jaeyun with his head propped up on one hand that rested on top of his knees and the other on he's using to scroll through his phone, seeming as if he's impatiently waiting for someone.

"Sim Jaeyun!" You're out of breath but you don't stop for air as the only thing in your jumbled mind that stays coherent is your drive to relieve the boy in need from his pain. "It's Lee Heeseung! He's… They're beating him up and I—I don't know what to do. Please help him." You ask, voice desperate and pleading.

Sim Jaeyuns eyes turn wide, immediately jolting up from his seat as he gestures for you to lead the way. The boy doesn't ask questions like "What happened?", "What's wrong?", "Is he badly hurt?" as his mind is too occupied with the thought of his brother being in trouble. The boy follows you as the both of you sprint back towards the same corner you had initially found Lee Heeseung and finds that the four of them are still there.

At the sound of your heavy running footsteps, the three of them turn their heads towards the both of you, followed by Lee Heeseung whose head felt heavy due to the endless beating he's received and the amount of blood he's lost. As the man beside you takes the scene of his friend looking battered and beaten, rage fills his veins as he lunges towards the three of them, not giving a damn even if he's outnumbered. You had guessed that Sim Jaeyun is stronger than he looked with the way three of them are struggling to contain the outraged boy.

While they're preoccupied with each other, you use this as a chance to come to Lee Heeseungs aid. Running up beside him, you crouch down to his level, cautiously pushing his bangs away from his face so you could inspect his injuries. His wounds have gotten worse, bigger and bloodier. His lip is completely busted, swollen and full of cuts— even worse than when you left. His cheeks are purple and swollen and you're angered to have found a new injury directed towards his left eye. Looking at him now, you can't help but feel like shit for leaving him alone to suffer at the hands of Choi Yeonjun and his friends, feeling useless that you couldn't have taken them all at once— like his friend is doing.

"H-Heeseung?" You ask him in a whisper, cupping his swollen cheek in your hands so you could turn his head to look at you and so that he could feel you there. He winces in pain and you immediately retract your hand, afraid to hurt him even further. "I-It's me, YN." You smile nervously, shy to have been so close to him. "You're okay now. I got your friend? Sim Jaeyun, right? He's here."

Upon hearing that, he smiles dreamily, as if out of it before sighing comfortably, closing his eyes and passing out after due to exhaustion. "H-Heeseung?" You call out, stuttering as you tap his cheek. When he doesn't answer, you panic, quickly turning to Sim Jaeyun who just threw a punch at Choi Beomgyus face, knocking him to the ground. "J-Jaeyun! H-Heeseung isn't… He passed out, Jaeyun. I don't know what to do." You whimper, feeling helpless.

Endless punches, kicks, and shouts were exchanged by the four of them with Sim Jaeyun miraculously coming out on top.

"You fucking bastards!" He screams, swinging his fist at Choi Yeonjuns face. Afterwards, he grabs the boy's collar, pushing his face closer as he threatens their leader. "I thought I already told you to stay away from him?!"

"Aw come one, Jake. You act like you're so different from us." One of them manages to cough out.

The boy is fuming as he takes in the unconscious figure of his dear friend lying on the ground and your distressed figure beside him, trying to make Lee Heeseungs unconscious body as comfortable as you can. There's a line of sweat coating his forehead but that's the least of his worries. Kang Taehyun is down on the ground, writhing in pain while clutching his stomach. Choi Beomgyu is leant against the wall as he spits out the blood that pooled inside his mouth, body swaying in dizziness. The only one left standing is Choi Yeonjun but you doubt he'd last long as you're proven right as he's immediately knocked down to the ground by the other.

"I swear, if you touch Heeseung hyung again, you three are really going to pay." He seethes out as neither of them reply, too tired and beat up to do so. Afterwards, he takes quick steps towards the two of you, immediately hooking Lee Heeseungs arm around his shoulders as you help him, the three of you exiting and going towards the nurse's office.

You're flabbergasted, to say the least. This is the first time you’ve ever witnessed a fight happen first-hand and you have a feeling this won't be the last if you keep associating yourself with his friend group. This side of Sim Jaeyun is unknown to you— as any side of him is. Having only known the boy as a mere bystander through the year, you had expected the boy to be an adorable puppy— much like his face. A happy-go-lucky friend that's cheerful and always ready to bring a smile to your face, not a punch. Perhaps you've judged too quickly as not everyone is the same as their cover shows. However, what makes your mind confused the most is how there's not a single ounce of fear in your body as you stand beside the boy.

The way his body moved so naturally in that setting made you wonder whether he's done this before, fighting. It seemed as if they had a history together, based on the words Sim Jaeyun let out in anger as he defended the older.

Speaking of the boy, you wonder what the reason for Choi Yeonjun and his crew targeting Lee Heeseung is— as you know they don't just mess around with random people. This eventually takes you back to the conversation they had prior to when you called Sim Jaeyun over for help. Lee Heeseung did something they didn't like, that's for sure. What is it? You have no idea but you ought to find out.

This might be the reason Lee Heeseung chose to take his life. The beating, the constant haunting done by the trio. Whether your hunch is fact or not, you'd do whatever it takes to find out, because after all, saving him is the reason you agreed to be sent back despite the danger, right? You only have one chance, so there's no room for failure. Soon enough, the creature named Apollyon is going to find out and you know for a fact that when he does, you're going to get hurt— much like how Lee Heeseung is right now. Standing beside Lee Heeseungs unconscious body which lay peacefully across the hospital bed placed inside the nurse's office, you can't help but feel a sense of responsibility to look after the boy when the creature does come and try to hurt the both of you. You wonder, is there a possibility that he's already found out? Within a day? Was this his doing?

Your mind buzzes as questions flow endlessly and you make a point to ask the Grim Reaper or rather, Sunoo, about this later, hoping that he can spare some details about what's going to happen.

You almost forget the fact that Sim Jaeyun is standing there beside you until he speaks. "I'm sorry you had to see me like that, YN." The said puppy-dog-faced boy apologizes, scratching the back of his head awkwardly.

"O-Oh it's fine, really. I understand." You try to assure him but your tone seems to have betrayed you. "I'm just glad Lee Heeseung's going to be fine."

"Yeah," Sim Jaeyun agrees, rocking his feet back and forth as he nods. "The nurse says all he needs is some ice and rest and then he'll be good to go."

You nod in understanding, happy that the damage dealt was minimal. There's a moment of silence that passes between the both of you as the other is unsure of what to say next.

"Say, YN. I-I actually have a favor to ask you." He says smiling sheepishly, digging his hands inside the front pockets of his pants. You let out a hum, prodding him to continue as your eyes stay glued to the way Lee Heeseungs chest heaved every time he breathed. "If… um… Can you keep what happened earlier a secret?"

You tilt your head to the side as you tear your eyes away from Lee Heeseung to look at him. "Don't you think Choi Yeonjun and the others will tell someone before I even peep a word in?" You reason.

"They won't tell anybody about it, I'm sure." He assures you before sighing deeply, looking back and forth between you and his palms— as if he's debating on whether to tell you something. Noticing this, you give him an encouraging smile, motivating him to continue. This seemed to have worked as he finally found the courage to open up to you. "I've known those guys a while back. I— I'm not proud of my past with them. Those guys have big egos. They aren't going to admit to anyone they lost a fight with three against one."

Laughing at how convenient this all is, you ask "You used to be friends with them?"

"Yeah, I— um… used to." He answers. "We used to get into all sorts of trouble. Luckily, Heeseung hyung pulled me out and I left that life behind."

Nodding, you take the information in, failing to find the right words to reply with. Clearly, you aren't as observant as you thought you were as you had barely even noticed how Sim Jaeyun used to be in the same group as them. "It's a good thing he knocked some sense into you then." You conclude.

"He was great, really. He saw the good in me even when I didn't— when no one did, and I'm forever going to be thankful for that."

"You're a good guy, Sim Jaeyun. I'm glad Lee Heeseung has a friend like you by his side. And don't worry, I won't tell anyone about what happened today, I promise." You smile at him and he smiles at you back.

After a while, he tells you that he'll be right back, informing you that he's going to go and tell the others what happened. Understanding the worry the others might have been feeling at the absence of two of their oldest, you nod, allowing him to leave you as you stay beside Lee Heeseung so you could provide him with some company when he wakes up.

"Oh, and YN— fuck. Wait, sorry. Is it okay if I call you that?" He asks and you nod, appreciating how he's asked you for your consent at the smallest thing like calling your name. He gives his own nod back, biting his lips to conceal his grin. "Great! And call me Jake, yeah? And I'm sure Heeseung hyung will appreciate it if you just called him Heeseung instead."

A few hours passed and it's already three in the afternoon. Classes are almost done and you're happy to walk into the nurse's office hearing Lee Heeseungs voice talking and laughing, his body is now well and awake. The six of them came in about thirty minutes ago and you left for a moment to provide them some privacy.

Upon your entry, his gaze locks with yours and all chattering and banter seem to stop as all heads turn to look your way. Now, all their attention is directed towards you as their expressions vary between shocked and speechless to mischievous and teasing— the latter being directed mostly towards the boy who laid in bed. It's not only theirs but his too. Lee Heeseungs eyes, you mean. You fidget with your hands from where you stood as heat pools across your cheeks, offering him a small, shy smile.

"Hi." Whispering, you wave a hand curtly towards his way. "You okay… Heeseung?" You ask, your voice faltering towards the end when you had said his name as you threw a glance at Sim Jaeyun, who you now refer to as Jake. He gives you a satisfied grin and a thumbs up, appreciating that you had accepted his previous request.

Calling him just by the name 'Heeseung' is still new to you and it sends your tongue into a frenzy every time you say his name as a rebellious surge of heat makes its way all throughout your body. Still, you love the feeling it gives you when it rolls out.

Heeseungs bambi-like eyes seem to widen, heat making its way to his bruised up cheek, seemingly forgetting your question as cheers and screams erupt around the room. Clearly, the younger ones like to tease their oldest. You're sure of this because of the way Park Sunghoon pokes Heeseungs shoulder, snickering at the older. Heeseung throws the boy a playful glare whilst telling him in a whispering manner to shut up. This doesn't seem to be the remedy for his problems however as now, everyone seems to be doing the same all at once; poking, teasing, snickering, and smirking.

You can't hide your own giggle as what you had expected to be an awkward check up on the boy had turned into pure chaos as you use the back of your hand to hide the grin on your face.

"Alright guys, that's enough." Park Jongseong is the one that finally shuts the others up, Heeseung throwing a thankful glance at the boy. "We'll leave you guys alone for a bit. I think Heeseung hyung has something to say to YN?" He inquires, casting a knowing glance towards the oldest who's now blushing an even deeper red than before.

The rest erupt into cheers, patting his shoulder as they make their way outside the door. Before they go out of sight, they give you a small wave, seemingly shy now that they're in front of someone they don't know as they sport a few small teasing grins. You bid them your own farewell, shaking your head at their nonsense, leaving Heeseung and you alone inside the nurses office.

"Um…" He starts, chewing the bottom of his lip, a nervous habit, you assume he has. "Hi, YN."

You tilt your head, smiling at him, happy that he's okay and finding the situation silly as you could only guess what's about to happen next.

He's going to confess, like he initially planned.

"Hi, Heeseung." You reply, simply. "How're you feeling?" You ask.

His eyes widen, seeming to have forgotten his current state as he realizes and takes a look at the multiple bandages covering his healing wounds. "O-Oh! These? These are nothing. I'm okay!" He assures you quickly, shaking his arms in front of him as if to show you he was well. "Nothing I can't handle."

"Don't tell me you're used to getting beaten up, Lee Heeseung. I never took you as a scuffler." You say in a teasing manner.

For the umpteenth time since seeing him in a conscious state, he widens his eyes cutely and he's quick to deny your playful accusation. "N-No! That's not what I meant! I don't get into fights, I swear!" He says, shaking his head cutely and it makes his hair sway. "I'm a good guy. You can ask Jake!"

You shake your head, finding his reactions funny. "I know, Heeseung. I'm just messing with you."

Taking a look inside Heeseungs mind, it's filled with thoughts of you; how you're talking to him right now, how he's managed to say coherent words to you, how pretty you look, how you're looking at him, how he's in the same room as you are. He's in chaos right now, trying to calm his fastening heartbeat.

He's always found you so beautiful, his adoration only growing as he grew taller. In his mind, he thinks that you probably don't pay attention to him much but still, you have all of his. He's seen the way you act around your parents, so caring and gentle. How you're so unbelievably smart, winning all the competitions and gaining the highest marks. How passionate and driven you are when you set your mind on something. Those were only some of the things he loved about you.

Out of the blue, he takes a deep sigh. "Y-YN…" He calls out and you reply by humming as you tilt your head, waiting for him to continue. "I actually have something to tell you."

His face has only grown hotter by the second, trying to gather the confidence to finally tell you what he's been dying to confess for years. In a way, you feel as if you're cheating, already knowing what he's about to do and thus, lacking the suspense you're supposed to feel. But you can only feel a tinge of guilt as you take a look at his expression, so adorable and deer-like while you wait for him to confess.

Still, you feel giddy regardless of knowing. "Yeah? What is it?"

"I— I've actually liked you… for a while now." He says, shyly, looking at your expression. "This might actually seem kinda weird— is it? Umm, I-I don't know. Sorry, this is so awkward. I'm awkward! Not you!" He rambles on.

"This is definitely not how I wanted this to go." He mutters the last part mostly to himself but still, you hear it. Giggling at his antics, you shake your head, using the back of your hand to cover the shit-eating grin that's on your mouth, not wanting to make him feel embarrassed any further as you tell him to go on. Breathing out, he clears his throat before speaking, " I-I like you, YN."

Although you already knew that, your heart still seems to be flustered, beating faster than you had expected. As you take in his confession, a surge of heat dances across your whole face, much to your protests. Truthfully, you're not sure what to reply and you have no idea where this side of you that's all shy and playful came from. Does he bring out a side of you that even you were unaware of having? Maybe. Talking to him seems so comforting, so calming that it seems to just come out naturally when you're around him— albeit, this is the first time it's happened.

Did you have any interest in Lee Heeseung before knowing what happened?

'No, no, I definitely didn't.'

Way to make it more obvious, smartass.

Okay, so maybe you did have some interest in him way back then. It was a simple crush really. He's your classmate. You found him nice to look at. You also found out that he's an incredibly nice person. Thus, just for the sake of having someone to crush on, purely for inspiration purposes, you chose him, reasoning that he's the best candidate and suited your 'ideal man'; tall, big and pretty eyes, tall nose, pouty lips, huge ears, prominent Adam's apple. You inwardly sigh whilst rolling your eyes, realizing that you've been describing how Lee Heeseung looks and him being your 'ideal man.'

Being the introvert you are, you never bothered to make a move and confess to him about it, nor did you assume that he was the secret man who left a love letter to you so he could confess.

Would you have still saved him if you were oblivious to the fact that he loved you? Yes, definitely. There were no questions asked about that. But now he's here. Sure, you admit this isn't how you expected him to confess to you; him laying on a hospital bed, all bruised up after you had just helped save him from a fight, but it's real and true and that's all you desire in a man.

"R-Remember the love letter that you got this morning? That was actually me. I'm sorry I didn't get to confess to you on the rooftop like I said I would. And I'm sorry I'm confessing to you like this." He says, apologising although it's not his fault. "But I'll take my chances and ask anyway. YN, would you… err… mind dating me?"

And now, the answer seems so simple, so clear. You like him and he likes you. What idiot are you to pass up a chance to fall in love with someone like him? Taking this mission on, you didn't expect to come out of it with a potential boyfriend. That is, if you succeed in saving him.

You're still not too confident, thinking that you aren't the best person for this as changing someone's mind about committing suicide when they're so set on doing so is harder than you it let's on to be. However, The Grim Reaper's words resonate in you, reminding you that you're the only person that can do this, and so, you'd like to think that being close to him like this will help and also because maybe acting upon your feelings doesn't seem so bad. Even if there's a chance he might leave you heartbroken in the end.

So, yes. "Yes, I'll gladly date you Heeseung. I'd be really happy to."

And now, you're really in it. You're going to save Lee Heeseung.

SEPTEMBER 26 ༉༊

After Heeseung had confessed to you in the nurse's office and being the head-over-heels man that he is, Heeseung immediately sprang up the idea of the two of you going on a date this Saturday— which is tomorrow. Grinning, you happily agreed, completely forgetting the literary contest you had to prepare for. However, as of the moment, that's the least of your worries because if things go according to how it happened before, you'll win the contest in Busan and go back home with a medal and certificate in your hands.

Leaving with each other's phone number, you bid the other goodbye, wearing the same identical grin on your faces. Leaving the room, you left with the promise of meeting each other again tomorrow lingering in the air while the last school bell rings.

That confession would've never happened if you weren't given the task to be sent back in time to save him. Although it's irrelevant, now, you hold no grudges towards your secret admirer because the reason he couldn't meet you wasn't because he stood you up, but because he was actually getting beaten up. If you didn't opt to search for the boy, the fight would've lasted longer, leaving him with an even more horrible outcome.

Currently, you're sprawled across your bed with nothing to do but think and reminisce about the events that happened and that're going to happen. You opt to think of a course of action ahead of time, trying to remember all the events that are going to take place in the next twenty days so you could maneuver around it.

Tomorrow, instead of going on a date with your highschool crush, you stayed in your room to practice for the literary contest and the same will happen tomorrow.

On Monday, you and a few other willing students who want to show their support for the school will go to Busan. This leaves you wondering if Heeseung was there because when school work is involved, you don't pay attention to anybody else but the work at hand. So it's hardly unlikely for you to remember or to even notice his presence. But in the end, like you've said, you'll win and come home happy as the rain will start pouring on your way back home. The next day, you were absent as you had played in the rain the night prior, rendering you sick and unable to go to class.

Amidst your thinking, a gust of wind suddenly made your windows fly open, curtains swaying wildly. Your heart rate slightly picks up, suddenly feeling nervous as chills run along your arms, giving you goosebumps. You sit up and kneel on top of your bed, peeking out the opened window only to see a cat walking along the roof of your neighbours house. This makes you calm down, sighing in relief as you close the windows shut. Suddenly, you hear a whip of air followed by a thud coming from behind you. The sound makes you turn quickly, eyes widening in shock to see Sunoo there, looking out of breath.

"Sunoo! For the last time, will you stop scaring me like that!?" You scream as you rush to stand up, stopping once you're in front of him as you hold a hand above your beating heart.

But all he gives you is a guilty smile. "Sorry, YN. It's fun seeing your reaction every time I scare you."

Rolling your eyes, you huff at the boy, crossing your arms at your chest. "It's not funny, you ass." Your eyes narrow, leaning your face close to his. "Where have you been anyways? I've been waiting for hours."

"Nowhere. Just trying to keep things unnoticed as much as I can." He shrugs as if it's nothing, pulling your desk chair back to sit. "Anyways, I have good news." He smiles widely, making his cheeks look plumper.

"Yeah, well that sucks because you have to answer my questions first. I assume you saw what happened today." You ask, quirking your eyebrows up, daring him to protest and you let out a satisfied hum when he only replies with a nod. "Say, what happened to Lee Heeseung before? I was busy preparing for a contest back then, I barely took notice of him." You casually ask, turning your back to him as you start walking towards the small shelf at the corner of your room.

He sighs, the cheerful and bubbly aura on his face wavering, showing remorse and pity in its place. "Heeseung went into a short coma after almost getting beaten up to death." He starts and you listen with wide eyes, shocked that you were so preoccupied to the point where you didn't know that something so life-threatening happened to one of your classmates.

As if to reminisce about the past incident, Sunoo looks outside, moonlight hitting his face as he admires it. "That day when he was supposed to meet you at the rooftop, he got stopped by those three. They started beating him up because he was a witness to something horrible they did. Heeseung wouldn't agree to turn a blind eye like they wanted him to so they beat the crap out of him. He got beaten up over and over after he woke up and was well enough to go back to school again. His family isn't that rich and they already have trouble paying their usual bills. As you know, hospital bills aren't cheap and they have to work themselves to death just to pay their debt. Heeseung could tell they were all having a hard time because of him." Picking up a random pencil on your table, he starts fidgeting with it, twisting the object between two fingers as he continues to tell you Heeseung's story.

"Heeseung changed after that day. He suddenly got more serious, more stoic and he even stopped hanging out with his friends all together. He stopped doing everything he loved and drowned himself in work. He was still getting beaten up by those three until all of it became too much to bear for a high school student. That, along with carrying the guilt of knowing… N-Nevermind. Eventually, you know… He… He killed himself."

"So if I didn't arrive there at all he would've gotten into a coma and all of this would've happened?" Sunoo nods sadly, speaking the truth. Your heart feels dejected and hurt as drops of what would usually be rain but —are now replaced with tears of your own— make their way down your face for the first time in what seemed like forever. Your thoughts are scrambled, filled to the brim with emotion, when suddenly, you remember something that doesn't quite make sense to you still. "You said he was a witness to something, what was he a witness of?"

"I-I don't know if it's my place, YN." He's hesitant to say as he tries his best to avoid eye contact with you. Already feeling the guilt of not knowing something so vile happening to someone, you're speechless when he doesn't tell you.

"Oh for goodness sake! You already brought me back here against the universal laws, I'm doing this with the fear of me and the people around me getting fucking hurt. I'm sure you can tell me what he saw." You scoff. Still, he seems conflicted about whether to tell you or not but his hesitance only annoys you so you press him on even more. "What did he see, Sunoo?" You ask, pausing in between words.

"YN… I-I really think you should ask Heeseung, instead. I won't be able to give you the full—"

"Just tell me what you know!" You scream out. "I'm so sick of this! You want me to help him yet you give me nothing to go off of. How am I supposed to save him if you won't tell me why he's getting beaten up?!"

"That's the thing! You've already saved him, YN!" He replies back enthusiastically, hoping you'd change your mind. "You're a smart kid YN. I'm sure you know what the butterfly effect theory is, don't you?"

You pinch the bridge of your nose in annoyance. "Yes, I do and what about it?" You deadpan.

"You managed to save Lee Heeseung from his coma! Meaning, his family won't get flooded with debts and he won't feel guilty for being the reason for it. That's enough to lessen the pain Heeseung felt and he won't be pushed to take his life anymore." It sounds absurd but his theory pans out right. With you arriving early to the scene, Heeseung didn't get beaten to the brink of death, saving him from his coma and lessening his feeling of being a burden. It seems like a small change but the effect is massive. Just like what the butterfly effect entails.

"We can go back right now while they still don't know about it and you won't be harmed." His offer seems too good to be true but you see no signs of error with his plan.

But still, you're bothered, itching to know what Heeseung has seen. "If we continue now won't Heeseung still get beaten up by those shit heads?"

"He'll fight back this time. With you and the others by his side, his resolve is now stronger." He's not telling you the whole truth.

By the way his hands are moving and the tone of his voice, you can tell he's lying. He might be an otherworldly being but the boy doesn't know anything about being a good liar.

"And what about the thing he witnessed, are you willing to tell me now?" You ask, leaning your body weight onto on foot whilst crossing your arms over your chest.

"No." He tries to answer simply. However, you notice the way his jaw clenches along with his fists whenever you touch upon the subject. "You don't need to know about that, YN."

"And why is that? You've told me useless information before. Surely this isn't any different than those."

"It is, YN." He tries convincingly but in the end, his gaze falters as he locks eyes with your persistent ones, finally realizing that you weren't going to stop asking until he told you. So with a sigh of defeat. "Five days ago, when Heeseung was on his way back home from school, he saw a girl being assaulted by those people who beat him up. Before they could do anything to the girl, Heeseung managed to rescue her and get away. In the original timeline, Heeseung and the girl will press charges and fail. The girl… she'll continue living her life in fear of them coming back. She blamed Heeseung for not being able to do anything. She said that if he couldn't help her put them in jail then he should've left them to do what they wanted with her; that it was all his fault."

'Ungrateful bitch.'

You don't have any idea who the girl is but your blood feels like it's going to boil through your skin with your hand itching to touch a certain someone's cheek. Despite what you know she's been through, all you feel is hatred and malice towards the girl as there's not an ounce of sympathy as you're unable to wrap your head around her thought process.

"How can someone be so ungrateful!?" You scream out in shock. "He's just as much of a victim than she is and she has the fucking audacity to blame him? The person who saved her?" You don't expect a reasonable answer from the boy, more so saying it out of disbelief and anger.

Far from his usual bubbly self, Sunoo only replies with a nod, seeming to be ashamed as he bows his head down, unable to look you in the eye.

"Why did you keep this hidden from me?" You sigh in exasperation, nudging your chin towards him.

"She… She's actually my sister, sadly." He smiles both in shame for her sister's actions and sorrow for what could have almost happened to her. "I guess I was just ashamed."

Speechless, you stammer for a few moments, mouth open and closing in shock as you try to compose a more coherent sentence. "Wow, I guess we can't really choose our relatives, can we?" You sight out, smiling sadly. "I'm sorry for talking crap about her like that."

All Sunoo does is shrugs. "It's okay. She wasn't always the best sister."

"Okay then. As long as Heeseung is fine, I'm willing to go back." You breathe out, patting the sides of your thighs to ready yourself. Sunoo smiles at you, nodding in appreciation.

OCTOBER 16 ༉༊

Opening your eyes, you're met with the same frost that the rain brought you like the last time you went to bed. The only difference your half-awaken body could comprehend is the amount of pillows suddenly decorating your bed— not to mention how hard the one placed on your back feels. Gripping the blanket tighter around your body, you turn in place, humming in satisfaction when the pillow wraps its arms around your waist tighter. In your state, you snuggle deeper into its warm embrace.

You stay like that for a couple of minutes, trying to catch your dreams as you relish the comfort both your pillows and blankets were giving you when out of nowhere, a chuckle breaks its way through your ears, catching you off-guard. With wide eyes, you turn around in a quick motion and sure enough, like a male lead in a teenage romantic drama, Lee Heeseung is laid there beside you on the bed, looking at you with stars in his eyes. Seeing your expression, he giggles and it feels like he's serenading you with tooth rottingly sweet songs while his nose crinkles with glee as strands of his hair decorate his puffed up face.

In this moment, you could tear up. In fact, that's just what you do, you burst into tears the moment you lock eyes with him. Sobbing, you bury your head at the crook of his neck as your hands wrap around his waist tightly, afraid to let go because you think that if you do, you might wake up. Your own tears stain his neck but he doesn't seem to mind, more so showing concern towards your actions. He pats you in the back, asking you what's wrong, but you only reply to him with a defiant shake of your head and a hard squeeze as he tries to take a look at you.

"YN?"

He's alive and he's laying down beside you. Your heartbeat is fastened, stupefied by how you could feel his touch on your skin, how you could feel his breath on your forehead, and how you can feel the beating of his heart through the thin layer of his plain white t-shirt. He’s the only thing you can feel and you’re over the moon by it.

“H-Heeseung.” You hiccup, leaving his neck to look at his face as you cup his cheeks with both hands. “You’re here.” You breathe out, chuckling as you smile through your tear stricken face.

His eyes are filled with worry as he looks at you, hand coming to mirror your actions as he wipes the stray tears that left your eyes. “I’ve been here since yesterday, baby. What do you mean?”

Although you’re confused by how Lee Heeseung, your classmate who had just confessed to you, is in your room, sleeping beside you, you don’t question it. Wanting to indulge in the moment longer, you bury your head in his chest in a hug, overjoyed by the outcome of your crazy adventure. Truely, it's a blessing in the skies to have Heeseung beside you, living and breathing. What’s more lucky is how your relationship with him has seemed to blossom after your obscure confession, but you wouldn't have it any other way because right now, Heeseung will be right beside you, always— just where you want him to be.

“Did you have a nightmare again?” He pouts with furrowed brows. “I didn’t cheat on you in your dreams again, did I? Dream Heeseung is actually such an asshole.” He finishes by rolling his eyes in disgust.

He’s insulting himself and normally, you would be against it, voicing your distaste through your inner thoughts, however, instead of doing that, you laugh, finding his humor comforting while his body is pressed against yours.

Now, you don’t mind the thunderous rain anymore. With Heeseung beside you, you feel like you can have a positive view on everything bad that gets thrown your way. Besides, what's the worst that can happen? Him dying? No problem, you have a reaper as a friend to help you with that.

Although yours and Heeseungs relationship hasn’t been online for that long, you’ve come to the realization that in your case, time is irrelevant. Time is complex and always changing. Some may say that time goes by too fast and for some, too slow, however, there is one thing you know that will never change, and that’s Heeseung. With time, your admiration for him will only grow, turning into love and the next is what’s beyond that. As you watch the way his eyes shine every time he talks, you dive in deeper, willingly drowning yourself in him until he’s all that you can see, hear, feel, touch, and taste. With time, the both of you will grow, change, and mature, but that doesn’t scare you. You aren't frightened that he might turn into someone else and leave the highschool Heeseung behind him, no, because like time, Heeseung is ever so changing.

How you know your relationship was formed might not be what others perceive as normal, but to you, it’s perfect. No matter how many lives you live nor how many universes there are, you’ll still choose him because at the end of the day, who doesn’t want Lee Heeseung to sing them to sleep. It’s like walking around with a spotify premium wherever you go!

Nevertheless, you’ll protect him and he'll do the same for you. With this frail and useless body of yours, you’ll defend him. It doesn't matter who you're dealing with or how big the problem is because he knows that you’ll be there by his side. With that thought and your love in mind, Heeseung feels like he could conquer the world— not that he wants to anyways. All the things he wants in life are already right in front of him, in the shape of you. Sure, it’s short, messy, and can get incredibly emotional at times but that doesn’t matter because he wouldn't want you any other way than yourself.

"Belated Happy Birthday, by the way." You whisper through your tears..

From outside the water stained window of your room, two prying eyes are peeking in, looking at the loving couple sprawled across their room on a rainy day.

“Sunoo, you’re lucky this didn’t cause any trouble with the time cycle.” Apollyon says whilst sighing in defeat once he turns his head and notices that the reaper he came here with just continues to blatantly stare at the both of you with longing in his eyes. “You’re new that’s why im letting you get away with this but I'll have you know that if you do something like this again—”

“I know.” The boy simply replies.

Tired, he shakes his head at the boy in defeat. Like the other, he turns his head to look at the unknowing couple happily talking to each other. Heeseung leans his lips near your ear, whispering. You listen to him eagerly, eyes growing animatedly wide once he’s finished and a feverous red-hot blush coats your face. He leans away to look at your reaction, however before he could, you turn your head away, slapping his chest and pointing a lecturing finger at him afterwards.

“They’re good for each other.” Apollyon comments, complimenting the both of you. “You’re more suited to be cupid instead of reaper, don't you think?” He jokes which the other only shrugs in response.

“By the way, about the soul you're looking for—”

“Leave it.”

Apollyon stops and looks at the boy with disbelief written across his face. “A-Are you sure?”

“I'm sure. She deserves peace and I’m not going to be the one taking it away from her.” Sunoo says, smiling even though his heart felt like it was chipping away.

“Besides, she killed herself to get away from me, didn't she?”

TAGLIST : @mindprismus @seungstarss @heedeungie1 @lhsng @amarillyis @meowmeowhoon @wonswondrland @axartia @heesflor @caty-catts @enhacolor @artstaeh @thaliese @heestart @samanthaaaa1 @sushiriki @dimensionchaosstuff @viagumi @kuleo26 @sunshinebunbun @tobiosbbyghorl @yurazoyori @dstarsz @nichoxnoel @woonie-muffin @romanticizedme @nomy0520 @rosie-is-everywhere @kimjiho1 @ashxsmoon @ilovebokutokoutaro @cruelfever @donkeykongwetpussy @cherryjinri @jukeboxjo1nts @prodsputnik @jjongbadnae @jangyikku @seonushine @ckline35 @kyanmeai ( bold = couldn't tag)

— want to be part of my permanent taglist? check out this post !

— want to see more of my work? check out my masterlist !

3K notes · View notes

privateanxieties · 9 months

Text

forget my mercy, take my blame (chapter 1)

Summary: For what it's worth, you don't know the man who's pointing the gun at your face. It's strange how one goes from bakery owner getting robbed to wanted fugitive. Oh, and then there's the target you put on your own back by associating with one Frank Castle. Surprisingly, you two have a lot in common.

Words: 4.1K

Series Masterlist | NEXT CHAPTER

---------------------

For what it's worth, you don't know the man who’s pointing the gun at your face. It is difficult, in these circumstances, to convince yourself that this was somehow brought on by choices made in the past, even with the sophisticated talent you have for self-condemnation. He's not a disgruntled ex-boyfriend, or an unstable relative you sassed one too many times over Thanksgiving dinner. He isn’t one of your past mistakes. He's just some guy.

He's aiming an M1911 somewhere below your clavicles and shouting words you've never been on the receiving end of, and in the time it takes him to do so, you're successful in finding one good thing about this whole experience: at least he isn't making one of your employees stare down the barrel, even if they have to watch you do it from a few feet away. Eliza and Ramón are adults, enrolled in the local college and with bills to pay, but to you they may as well be children.

The man has a stutter you only notice when he calls you a bitch for the second time, deeming you too fucking slow in emptying the cash register into his bag. You wonder how he reached the conclusion that four hundred dollars would be worth the hassle. Who robs a bakery on a Saturday morning? People sleep in, especially in a small town. Or, most people do. The dark-haired man sitting all the way in the back with a half-eaten stack of pancakes looks wide awake. You don't know him either, but you don't think he's from around here.

It's weird, in a way, that you aren't really thinking about what's happening in front of you. A bubble has fogged up your attention, and all that you remark upon is how the mellow 80’s playlist you picked out for today hasn't abruptly stopped playing. Thus, you'll always remember the current song as the soundtrack to your first time getting robbed. While you gather the bills from their slots in the register, it strikes you that you didn't have a song for other firsts in life. Not that there were that many worthy of background music. If anything, this feels fitting precisely because you couldn't have predicted which song would be playing when some asshole would pull his gun on you. What used to be lyrical perfection to you will likely ring a little apropos, from now until forever. You will, indeed, be waiting on a sunny day after this — many thanks to Bruce Springsteen for distracting you.

"Are you deaf, bitch? Move it over. "

The bubble evaporates. Yeah. Real grateful.

You're going to do as he asks, because you are not alone. You won’t risk any lives, even if the Colt's safety has been on this entire time. You wonder if it's even his gun, by the way his hand curls around it clumsily. No real, hardened criminal would get so close when they have a ranged weapon, and maybe you’re right, but you won't take your chances. Speed in retrieving your own weapon is not the issue here — it's that if you do, you have to use it. You're not so sure it's the best course of action, even if the skin at your back itches against the warm metal nestled there.

He's young. He didn't even bother covering his face, and the eye-watering lime green of his jacket is the very opposite of stealth wear. Maybe he's desperate, or maybe this is his first time too, though you don't think it'll be his last, especially since you've so far let it go smoothly for him.

You pause. This will give him the confidence to do it again some time, with someone else. Someone who isn't trying as hard as you to keep their impulses in check. Someone who doesn't have any urges at all, acting only on adrenaline and principles.

You've always believed you weren't made out of the same things others were, and that's always proved true in the most unflattering ways. When you were followed home eight years ago and instead of freezing in fear, your body fought back until the skin barely clung to your stalker's face. When your first boss out of high school cornered you next to a dumpster to ask for a favor in return for the loan he'd given you, one that you'd already paid back, and he found himself short a couple of inches— terrible for him, because that was pretty much all he'd had.

When Mark Davidson, a name you'd never forget, tricked your grandmother into signing away her house, and then his own turned to embers just two days later. It doesn't take you long to make a decision. It didn't take Mark very long to figure out the culprit behind his real estate mishap either, but only one of you walked away from the old quarry in that faded industrial town.

There is, you realize, a choice being presented here. None of the other instances felt this ambiguous; either you fought, or you went along with an injustice and suffered for it. Plenty of people fight back out of a desire to protect themselves and their property, and plenty more do the exact opposite out of a desire to keep their lives. You aren't sure where you fit in this particular situation. The past has taught you time and again that you're part of the people who fight, but that has only ever resulted in a trail of smoke and no place to call home, because while fighting is one thing, not knowing when to stop is another.

“The fuck’s wrong with you?! I said move it over. ”

You didn’t have to do what you did. You could’ve stopped hitting when your stalker fell limp. You could’ve quit your job. Taken Mark to court instead of resorting to arson. Instead, you went with your instincts. You’re staring down the barrel again.

People catch on quickly in small towns, and having a reputation in the way that you used to is only good for warding off trouble. The bad people don't want to get close. But, neither do the nice ones.

This is a nice town. Lively, warm. The people are bearable— even good, on occasion. Thoughts of your elderly neighbor are quick to surface, and the knowledge that Hazel expects you back home weighs heavily in favor of doing the very thing you're not used to doing. She'd be awfully disappointed if Sunday breakfast was canceled because you decided to give in to your worst impulses and fight like a rabid dog in the face of whatever provoked you.

The man thrusts the gun even closer to your face with a slight tremor, a show of impatience.

This is a good place to be. You never went back to industrial Auckney, and you don't want a repeat experience to follow you here like it followed you throughout the previous three towns where you tried to build a life. You don't want to have to leave. You don't want to make Hazel sad. So, you choose to let him go. You let it go.

And just like that, you hand it over. There's no magical moment, no switch that flips. Making a decision that goes against your every instinct is a learning experience. You're not sure how suited you are to this new path.

From there, things are quick to end. Once he's got a hold of the money, he backs out of the modest premises all wild-eyed, looking like he expects the cops to pull up at any moment. He's watched too much TV. Nobody even called them. A moment later, he takes off running down the street, green jacket like a neon sign against the stretch of asphalt.

Breathe.

Your rigid fingers unglue themselves from the counter's laminate surface and you finally turn your back, the gesture bordering on unnatural. As you do, your gaze settles on Eliza first. A nineteen year old girl with a frame that could be blown away by the wind is looking right through you, her fingers moving erratically against the blacked out touch screen of her phone.

Five small steps bring you to her. You try to steady her shaking form while removing the phone from her hands.

"Hey, it's okay. It's over, he's gone," you reassure her, but her breathing has picked up too quickly to go back down with just a few kind words.

"Need to— I need to call the police. I—"

Your hands find her shoulders as you hold eye contact and try to soothe her to the best of your ability.

"You don't need to do anything other than breathe. I'll handle this. If you want to call someone, call a friend to come pick you up and drive you home. Ramón, you too. Take a few days off."

The college junior throws you the strangest look you've seen in a while, but he too is shaken enough that he doesn't have the energy or the will to protest.

"Come on. Go sit down for a bit. Both of you," you tell them, reaching under the counter for a bottle of water that you hand Ramón, silently gesturing towards the back room. A different environment would be good for wracked nerves.

The two make their way towards the kitchen, and your eyes soften at the way Eliza has leaned into Ramón's embrace, quiet sniffles soon cut off by the stainless steel door. You aren't breathing quite right yourself, but you can live with it until things are settled. You can. You have to, because you aren't leaving this town. Not over some prick with shaky hands and horrible judgment.

"Ma'am?"

Instinct surges, and this time you can't force it back down. Fingers drawn to the Kimber's grip at your back, the movement feels almost liberating when you turn on your heel and lock target onto what startled you. Not that you'd ever admit it. You can't believe you didn't hear him coming until he was right there, staring at you with narrowed eyes. The dark-haired man in the back. Your only other witness.

His hands go up in the universal gesture of surrender — or at least no harm intended — but it's too late. You've pulled a gun on a customer, and despite the fact that you kept your finger off the trigger, the damage is done. Lowering the weapon feels like a personal failure. You should've done this to the right person, less than three minutes ago. The man who's now in front of you has nothing to do with your misguided choice.

But, he isn't leaving. Despite what you just did, he's looking at you in a way you can't decipher. Maybe he's one of those people who are hard to read, or easy to misread . Is it concern, or something else? On second thought, maybe you don't really care, unless he is a local and you've just tipped your hand in the long run. He certainly doesn’t look like the type of person to settle down in a place like this. If he’s just passing through, you can live with putting a gun in his face, as long as no one else saw you do it.

"You alright?"

The question surprises you, as does the way he asks it — genuinely enough, but the look he's pairing it with makes the hairs on the back of your neck rise. He's watching too closely. There's too much knowledge behind his eyes, and something within you stirs uncomfortably. You don't even try for innocent. Instead, you put the .45 back where it came from and sigh, looking as dejected as possible. It isn't hard to do.

"I'm sorry. I didn't hear you. I'm a little jumpy after… all that."

The man takes in your words quietly, a single nod his only response.

"Hell of a quick draw, that."

You blink in surprise. Answering the remark is tricky. Is it praise, or judgment? Both? What do you say to either? You can't let too much time pass before you answer, as that would be an answer in itself. You settle on hiding the truth in plain sight.

"Probably wondering why I didn't do that earlier, huh?" you ask, a nervous huff coloring your words. You lean on the counter separating you from the man, painting yourself a version of fragile that you hope translates well to his watchful eyes. But, to your dismay, he shakes his head, scanning you even more closely than before.

"Nah. You had kids in here. Couple bucks ain't worth dying for. You did the right thing."

It's not what you want to hear. It's also not something you think he's entitled to say, as though he's some kind of authority figure. What makes him so sure this was the right thing to do? You don't think it was. The more time elapses between now and the robbery, the more regret pools in your chest. You're having a hard time with the follow-through part of your decision to let it go, and he is most definitely not helping.

The vexation makes your jaw tighten and the corner of your mouth turn down just so, and the all-knowing eyes studying you take notice. The words spill out before your brain can catch the mistake.

"I don't see a badge on you, mister."

It only takes him a second to pick up on the scorn in your remark, but to your great annoyance, he doesn't seem offended. On the contrary, the smirk rising to the surface suggests sardonic amusement. It also paints his face with the kind of insufferable attractiveness you’ve always been agitated by.

"Should be glad about that. A cop probably would've done something stupid. He'd have gotten someone shot, tryna be a hero." He speaks words you can't help but feel are directed more at you than a theoretical police officer. Yet again, you don't bite your tongue, speaking with the same stiffness in your jaw.

"Maybe. Or maybe he'd have just shot him down before the guy could pull the safety back on his own gun."

"So why didn't you?" he counters immediately, the low timbre of his voice almost making his words vibrate through you.

You breathe in sharply through your nose. The challenge in his tone is more curiosity than genuine provocation, but it still doesn't sit well alongside your growing frustration. Another veiled truth finds its way past your lips as you hold his hardened gaze.

"Like you said. Couple bucks ain't worth dying for."

He considers your answer for a moment or two, and then it's as if something hidden from view pulls his features into a different scene. A softer look takes hold, and on a man of his size and projected disposition, it looks almost out of place. Almost. You're not sure if the sudden change means he knows you weren't talking about yourself.

He shuffles on his feet imperceptibly — not a mark of discomfort so much as it is, you suspect, restlessness. He clears his throat once, and then his eyes are no longer on you.

"You uh, gonna call the cops any time soon?"

At his question, your gaze follows his a few inches to the right, where Eliza's phone rests atop the counter. It's where you placed it intentionally, so that she'd forget about what she wanted to do. And from the way he asked, you wonder if he's onto you about that.

"I'll file a report later. No need for them to show up. Not like they're gonna catch him," you say dismissively, finally leaning away from the counter and straightening your posture. You put some distance between you and him by taking one step back, wordlessly signaling that you’re done talking and hoping he's astute enough to pick up on body language cues. The slightest pursing of his lips tells you he is. Conversation over.

He lingers only one more moment before he offers a final nod in your direction, turning in a distinctly controlled way that reeks of military habit and walking off. Only, he stops just short of reaching the door, and his hesitation makes the tension in your jaw return. He doesn't fully look back at you as he speaks.

"It'll give those kids peace of mind. You should call 'em."

You hold back a scoff.

"Are you familiar with the cops in this town?" you drawl, a twinge of sarcasm flowing off your tongue.

"No, ma'am. Can't say I am."

The half-smirk you can still glimpse pulling at his lips beckons you to wipe it off, but you manage to hold back. He's almost out the door, anyway.

"Well, for the record… We'd be safer with a labrador for defense. At least it's got teeth."

"That right?" he grins as if you've tickled his funny bone. He doesn't seem to have all that stellar of an opinion about the police either, if his jab about the theoretical cop is anything to go by. He's still not looking at you, and you don't understand what the hell he's stalling for. Typically, anyone witnessing what he did a little while ago would be out the door the minute it was over. And yet, here he stands, after you pointed a gun at him. Still.

"Yeah, that's right," you confirm, hoping this is finally the end of the exchange.

It sure seems that way for a short moment of blessed silence.

"Is that why you picked a Warrior?"

His eyes finally veer towards you, smile completely gone. The muscles in your back are suddenly taut once more, and your lungs fill with air they greedily keep for a few seconds longer than they ought to. You don't know what to say. You're not sure why he's bringing up the model of your firearm, like he isn't even bothered that you shoved it in his face earlier. Maybe he's not. Maybe he's a weirdo. Maybe you're trying to convince yourself he doesn't know exactly what you're thinking, despite all the evidence to the contrary.

A scowl fights for control of your features as your hands twitch by your sides. You're still high on anger and guilt and growing resentment for not doing what you were itching to do earlier. Right next to those feelings, the desire to preserve the image it's taken you four years to build is putting up its own fight, albeit much less valiantly. You just want to be alone with your thoughts. Just a moment where you don't have to pretend. You don't know how long you have before your employees return from the kitchen.

"I don't follow," is what you say instead of telling him to get the hell out already.

It's not the right thing to say, because he fixes you with an unimpressed look and takes a couple of steps back inside. You've never had your bullshit called this efficiently, let alone by someone who doesn't know you.

"They didn't name it that 'cause it's meant for defense . And that ain't no standard issue you got there. I'm just— Look,"

You can't resist the urge to make a fist when he closes the distance again, ending up right back where he started. The only thing separating you once more is the service counter, but with the way he's staring you down, it might as well not exist. He looks away briefly, like he isn't sure he's going to say whatever words are already forming on his lips.

"It's none of my business. I get that. But I know that look in your eye, 'cause I've seen it a hundred times before. So I'm just gonna lay it out, alright?" he says, not asking or waiting for permission. "You're gonna go home tonight, and you're gonna toss and turn and not sleep 'til dawn thinkin' about what happened here. And you're gonna want to even the scales, or whatever bullshit you're telling yourself right now. But I'm telling you not to. Once it starts, that shit never ends. It follows you everywhere. Every goddamn place you set foot in."

The gruff voice, steady and so determined it infiltrates some deep part of your mind, softens on the very end of the sentence that you have no doubt will be the thing you'll actually think about tonight.

It follows you everywhere.

You should've told him to fuck off ten minutes ago. If you had, you wouldn't be standing here, trembling in anger. Or, at least, not this type of anger. The air you forcibly breathe out does not ease the tension.

Whatever desire to hold back that was present before is overpowered in its entirety by one single element. One thing that could easily define your life up until this point, and probably in perpetuity: not knowing when to back the fuck down. If he wants to have a go, well, who are you to deny him?

"Getting awfully personal there for someone whose name I don't even know. Sure you're not projecting a tiny bit?" you incise, a pitying pout meant to yank his chain blooming on your lips.

"Is that why your finger's twitching?" he shoots back, gaze locked on to the left hand resting by your side, except for the consistent movement of one particular finger. You abruptly stop, but it's hard for knowing eyes to mistake a trigger itch for anything else.

He knows that you know that he knows what you're thinking.

"Look, mister," you begin, absent a polite tone. "Whatever you think I am or am not going to do, you're right: it is none of your business. But seeing as it's so important to you, let me give you some peace of mind ." Throwing his words back at him makes you feel better, like you're slowly gaining an upper hand in whatever battle this nonsensical exchange is.

Pausing, you lean a little closer to him unnecessarily, an air of defiance permeating the space between you. You're sure it's both him and you contributing to it. You bite the inside of your cheek briefly right before you open your mouth again.

The distinct squeak of the back door swinging open halts the flow of words before it even begins, and Eliza soon enters your peripheral vision. For one short moment, the interruption riles you up, but you realize that this is the best way to ensure he fucks off once and for all. Just focus on someone else. Anyone else. You're happy to avoid that unnerving stare for the rest of your life.

Your stand-off finally ends when the young woman reaches your side, and you break your gaze away from the man's in order to give Eliza your attention, as well as to clearly send the message he's been having trouble getting. You aren't interested in his lecture, or the way you can still feel his eyes on you for a few more seconds after you've looked away.

It's only as you talk to Eliza about having her mother pick her up that you finally hear the man's quiet sigh of defeat, though it sounds more frustrated than upset to your ears. Good.

Then, just when you think he's given up, a hand slaps against the counter with a crinkling sound, the familiarity of it leaving no room for interpretation. You're about to throw him a look and sass him about having already paid for his meal, but before you can, he's already started walking off.

Your lips purse as you watch him exit the building, gait once again reminiscent of military custom. It's self-assured yet stiff, and you're pretty convinced at this point that he must've served. Whatever. Some rando with a chip on his shoulder has no business getting a rise out of—

As you look back at Eliza, a cursory glance to the bills he laid down has your muscles tensing again, and you resist the urge to go out after him. It's not the four hundred-dollar notes that piss you off. How he knew the exact amount handed over in the robbery wasn't much of a surprise to you, what with how keenly he’d watched everything unfold.

It's the two singles laid out on top of the pile that really get under your skin, a simple message he went out of his way to send.

Couple bucks ain't worth dying for.

-to be continued-

A/N: I'm in my Frank Castle era so strap in folks. I love soft!Frank but we're going to be getting a lot of asshole!Frank in this one, which I argue has the potential to be even more delicious. We'll have fluff, smut and all the goodness of Frank and Reader antagonizing each other while being mad about each other. Chapter 2 is ready to post for Friday!

#frank castle x reader #frank castle x you #the punisher x reader #the punisher x you #frank castle #marvel's the punisher #frank castle imagine #frank castle fanfiction

145 notes · View notes