Hi friends! This is a Reacher fic feat. a black original character. It's an AU, but definitely fits into that world. There will be at least 5 parts. This is my first story that I've posted since 2016ish, so please be nice.
We only accept compliments and CONSTRUCTIVE criticisms.
Proofread by @trippinsorrows
cw/tw: dark humor/sarcasm, violence, blood and injury, child abuse, emotional abuse/trauma, strong language, threats of violence, abandonment themes, and romantic tension. (If I've missed anything, please let me know and I'll edit to add)
Word count: 1.1k
October 13th, 2024
Reacher was a man of few words. If he wanted something handled, he didn’t make assumptions; he’d assess the situation, come to a quick determination, and acted with efficiency to protect those around him without regard for his own well-being.
Everyone who knew him, and there were few that really did, knew he operated by a strict code of conduct. There was no one in the world that was an exception to his rules. And his penchant for freedom was unmatched. If it wasn’t a toothbrush and money for the bus, it wasn’t a necessity. He travelled from city to city, slept where he could, ate when he could and kept it pushing.
Of course, there were a few unsavory moments here and there that couldn’t be avoided. How could he know he’d see a kid assaulted by her own father on his way to the bus stop? Of course he couldn’t just walk away. Not without kicking the little girl’s father in the jaw, throwing the weak man up a tree, and calling the cops to handle the rest. He was a man with values, but that didn’t mean he wanted to be involved. He handed the kid a Clark Bar, patted her on the back, and continued his way. Knowing that he was now covered in that hillbilly bitch of a man’s blood he needed a new wardrobe. Anything that drew attention to him was an immediate no-go.
All Reacher expected when he walked into the quaint thrift store in the middle of the town was to buy a new pair of clothes and donate his current one. He didn’t have a way to get rid of the unsavory bloodstains, but that was for the store to deal with. He walked in, kept his head down, picked up the first pair of clothes that could fit and went into the dressing room. After he tried on the new clothes and was walking to the register, he already had a plan in his head, and it was the same plan he always had when he was ready to leave a place that had worn out its welcome: He’d move onto the next city, wherever that may be, and continue his wandering lifestyle.
But fate, or perhaps the devil, had other plans for him.
Behind the counter, wearing a scowl to rival a lioness’s, stood one of the most beautiful women he’d ever known. Although, the last time he’d seen her, she wished that he would crawl into a hole and die. She hadn’t been given the opportunity to say anything to him yet, as she’d been too preoccupied with two other customers in the store, but he knew she’d noticed him. Adora James was someone who noticed the smallest of details and she probably saw him as soon as he walked into the tiny, but beautifully decorated store.
He was kind of hard to miss after all. Standing at 6’5, weighing 250 pounds, and with the build of a GI Joe action figure he was typically noticed whether he actually wanted to be. With their torrid history, he was sure that his presence was the opposite of a present to the woman who couldn’t hide the way she wished death upon her enemies, and he was number one on that list.
He knew that this discomfort they felt wouldn’t be rectified until they talked so he did what he did best; he assessed the situation, waited until her customers left the register, established his next steps, and acted.
Reacher placed his old clothes on the counter, waiting until she was restocking the loose clothing. "Good to see you, Adora." "Not good enough." she shot back, quick-witted as ever. Without pausing in her work, she kept hanging the clothes behind her, deliberately avoiding his gaze. "What are you doing here, Reacher?" she sighed, the exasperation clear in her voice. "I thought I made it crystal clear—the last time I saw you was supposed to be the last time I ever saw you."
He couldn’t lie and say that Adora avoiding his gaze wasn’t hurtful, but he’d heard worse from her. Reacher knew that backing down would mean defeat, and he wasn’t ready to give up on this again. “Fate,” he suggested with a small smile. “Or destiny.” “Or maybe it was Maybelline,” she supplied bluntly, finally turning around to meet his gaze. “Be fucking forreal. You’ve never once in your life believed in destiny. What about seeing me in the middle of bum-fuck nowhere makes you think this could possibly be fated?”
Reacher rubbed his hand over his face while thinking how could he possibly answer her question without upsetting her even more. He knew she had every reason to be frustrated with him, he left her with bullshit answers and reasons for abandoning her, and fixing this situation wasn’t something he was going to accomplish in a thrift store.
“Look, how about I buy what I’m wearing, give you these to sell, and we can meet at the diner on Main Street to talk about what happened?” He hoped this offer would buy himself time to figure out his next moves. Reacher knew all too well why he made the excruciatingly difficult decision to walk away from the best woman he ever met, but the excuse seemed irrelevant in her presence. He saw the wrinkle in her forehead while she was deep in thought and observed the cute dimple in her cheek as she bit the inside of it.
To be honest Adora wasn’t certain she wanted to sit down with Reacher, it was risky. He was almost too beautiful for words and while he didn’t speak many of them, the ones he said carried weight. If he was willing to give her closure, she’d take that chance. With a resigned look in her eyes, she replied “Okay. I’ll entertain you. You’ve got 30 minutes of my extremely valuable time starting at 8pm. If it’s not satisfactory, I’ll make sure you won’t be giving anyone answers ever again.” She gave him his few pieces of change while ignoring the blood on the clothes, knowing that whoever pissed him off probably deserved it.
With the change in his hands Reacher nodded and turned to walk out of the store. He knew that she meant what she said, she could kill a man with her bare hands, and she had. As he looked back at the Thrift Store, all he could think was You don’t mess with the Special Investigators! and he’d already broken that promise once.
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Genre(s): angst, drama, tragedy, fantasy (Hanahaki disease)
Group: Monsta X
With his head laying on Minhyuk’s stomach, Kihyun stared at his bandmate’s sickly face. It was Kihyun’s turn to watch Minhyuk, and Kihyun couldn’t help but feel gloomy from seeing the weight drop every day in Minhyuk’s face.
“야, 머리를 다른데에 대.” (Translation: “Hey, rest your head somewhere else.”)
Kihyun turned his head and looked up to see Wonho with a cup of water and some pills. As Wonho set them down on the nightstand next to Kihyun, the older boy looked down with worry.
None of the members heard the story directly from Minhyuk, but it was clear as day that he was no longer with Yewon since both of them were throwing up flowers. When Kihyun ran to his same-age friend to catch him from falling and hitting his head on the floor, he heard Yewon whisper over and over again, “미안해.” (Translation: “Sorry.”)
He felt bad for her, it couldn’t be helped that her heart went to another and she was also in pain. But he couldn’t forgive her for hurting his best friend and causing this whole situation. Ever since that night, Minhyuk had been in and out of the bathroom, throwing up whole flowers. They could tell he didn’t have a lot of time left, either for his throat or his life, if the two were separate. The memories of seeing Minhyuk cough blood and petals up continued to haunt Kihyun, and suddenly he wanted to stay far away from him. For fear that being near him could cause the memories to replay again and again, Kihyun stood up abruptly.
He muttered to Wonho, “나 가야돼. 하은이네 갈거니까 걱정하지마.” (Translation: “I have to go. I’m going to Ha-eun’s place so don’t worry.”) Before hearing Wonho’s response, Kihyun sprinted out of the room and grabbed the littlest necessities and headed out.
Please be home, please, I need you.
It had been at least half a year since Kihyun started to gift Ha-eun single white roses once a week. The first one was a joke -- he didn’t actually buy it for her, but it ended up in her hands. The second one was also for fun, since her reaction was so funny the first time. The next few were out of habit, but something changed inside of him and all of a sudden, he could see so obviously her feelings. And somehow, he couldn’t help but reciprocate those feelings. There was something sweet with the way she smiled genuinely, receiving each flower, and something so tangy when she laughed at his lame jokes as he gave her each week.
Then, there was something so bitter when she joked about the other girls receiving flowers from him. He wasn’t sure why his heart ached a little whenever she said so with a downcast expression, but he was sure their feelings were mutual. After all, he had never felt any symptoms similar to the Hanahaki Disease, nor has he ever felt like coughing up a flower petal.
Huh?
Kihyun saw a sliver of light leaking out and squinted his eyes to see the front door ajar. What was she thinking, not locking her door at night?! He called out for Ha-eun, but his words were left hanging awkwardly in the air. He whispered, “나 들어간다!!” (Translation: “I’m coming in!!”)
Stepping into her place and locking the door, he heard a heart-wrenching sound from the bathroom.
There were some groans of pain and gasping for air, then some coughs. Sounds that sounded all too familiar to Kihyun. Not thinking twice, he ran to Ha-eun’s bathroom.
The sight of Ha-eun that his eyes laid on completely shattered his heart.
She must have not heard his loud footsteps because she was still hunched over the toilet seat, one hand gripping the toilet bowl and the other clutching the hem of her shirt. He glanced over her head to see blood filling the space and flower petals. Rose petals. And fully bloomed roses. White roses. White… roses…?
It was only then that Kihyun realized his surroundings. As his eyes dropped down to the floor, he felt his stomach drop. It was as if it snowed in the bathroom. White petals were layered upon each other while fully bloomed white roses were scattered to every nook and cranny of the room.
Hesitantly, he took a step closer to Ha-eun, making the floorboards creak loudly. She whipped her head around and Kihyun watched as her eyes that were filled with tears and pain morph into fear.
“ㅂ-보-보지마! 나가!!” (Translation: “D-do-don’t look! Get out!!”) she screamed, causing another fit of coughs. He couldn’t bear the sight anymore and he walked over to her, kneeling down next to her. He wrapped his arms around her neck and hugged her tightly, as if to prevent her from coughing.
But to no avail, as she struggled to be out of his arms, small and large white petals trickled out of her lips. As she gagged a little from the constant outpour, she managed to grab Kihyun by the collar and whisper, “나가, 제발… 나 이런 꼴 보여주기 싫으니까… 빨리 나가. 치우고 다 정리하면 부를게.” (Translation: “Please, just go… I don’t want to show you this… so leave now. I’ll call you after I clean up and straighten everything out.”)
Her words prickled his skin like thousands of tiny needles that drew blood, and his hands slowly cupped her face. They faced each other, both with tear-stained cheeks and heavy hearts.
“너… 언제부터… 정하은, 내 마음 진짜 몰라서 이렇게 된거야?” (Translation: “You… since when… Jung Ha-eun, did you become like this because you really didn’t know my feelings?”) Kihyun managed to croak out his words, as he tried to stay calm. He couldn’t believe his eyes nor his ears, but he couldn’t leave her alone when she was in this much pain. Because of him. Or, because of her assumptions about him. “나, 너--” (Translation: “I li--”)
She whimpered, twisting herself out of his grasp. Kihyun stared at her with confusion for a split second, until her face contorted with pain. As she grasped the cloth closest to her heart, her hand covered her mouth to catch all the flowers.
This time, however, some flowers had short stems.
“정하은!!!!” (Translation: “Jung Ha-eun!!!!”)
Alarmed by the change in her stage, Kihyun realized she was entering her final stage. He grabbed her hand out of the way and leaned forward fast. His lips crashed into hers, and he wasn’t sure if the blood was from her or from him. Holding her hands at bay, he continued to show his love through actions, since words didn’t seem to work. If giving her white roses as a sign of his love gave her this disease, he would go for a more direct route to make it obvious.
Minutes passed, and when he felt Ha-eun’s body relax a little, he leaned back and stared at her. The color in her face returned and her eyes were no longer bloodshot with tears. She looked more comfortable, and most importantly, she was no longer coughing or gagging. Ha-eun looked back at Kihyun with mostly soft eyes but with a hint of confusion.
Kihyun lifted one hand to cradle her cheek while the other grasped her hand gently. As his thumb brushed aside the wetness on her cheek, he said, “내 말 잘 들어. 나. 너. 좋. 아. 해.” (Translation: “Listen to me closely. I. Like. You.”) Her eyes widened at his words. “그러니까, 이제 아프지마. 너마저… 이렇게 아프면 나 진짜 죽을것같아.” (Translation: “So, stop being in pain now. If you also… hurt like this, I think I’ll really die.”)
Before she could question what he meant by “also”, he hugged her once more, holding her closely as he buried his face into her hair. Finally letting go of the shock and fear, he repeated, “좋아하니까, 나도 너 좋아하니까 이러지마.” (Translation: “I like you, since I like you too, don’t be like this.”)
Ha-eun held onto him tightly as well, and whispered, “미안해.” (Translation: “I’m sorry.”)
Once Reacher left her store, Adora immediately locked up and put up the CLOSED sign. She couldn’t deal with another customer while she felt like her life was being torn apart all over again. She quickly walked into her all too small office because she needed a strong drink. Luckily, there was a bottle of Stella Rosa Brandy in her desk drawer for those moments when customers were either racist or just entitled.
She took gulp after gulp until the bottle was empty all the while she sat in her comfortable desk chair while rubbing her growing migraine. Reacher was more of a headache than he had ever been aware of, and while it used to be endearing, it was just fucking unfortunate now.
She began to think over how she even found herself in the scenario, because honestly, what the fuck…
Adora had arrived in the town 2 years ago after selling her and her mom’s house and drove until she was finally away from anything and everything that reminded her of what she had lost. When she arrived in this small, but friendly town she felt at peace. She opened her small, but beautifully curated thrift store and called it “What’s Mine is Yours” She wanted people to be able to give and receive anything and everything that made them happy. She spent her whole life giving her all to others and while she wasn’t ready to return to that type of work again, it felt nice to help others give to others. Especially when so much had been taken from her.
Even on the days she wasn’t in her store she would drive around town and help out where she could. Whether it was helping to build a fence so Mrs. Johnson’s German Shepherd couldn’t escape anymore or organizing a day to paint over the garish graffiti that kept appearing on the High School. She was a part of a community now and she felt like peace was in reach.
But of course, he had to show up and ruin it all. Adora was sure he didn’t come here for her; his face was too dumbstruck when he saw her for that to be the case. And maybe it was “fate” like he had suggested, or maybe it was the world trying to prevent her from healing. She had dealt with enough loss in the past couple of years and all this felt like trauma rearing her ugly head once again.
When Reacher left it was like he tore her heart from her chest, and she couldn’t breathe, let alone comprehend his reasoning. Telling her that he ‘couldn’t be the one for her.’ That he had ‘too much baggage.’ That he had to ‘wander this world alone.’ All complete and total bullshit. He knew that she could see through it all, and he still left.
Needing to be alone was incomprehensible as if that had been a problem when they had been living together for a whole ass year. As if she wouldn’t have given her all to just be with him, wherever he was, whoever he needed to be. Adora followed him into death defying situations, but he didn’t trust her to go to with him to fucking South Dakota?
Adora threw her now empty bottle of brandy at the wall and screamed in frustration as it shattered. Remembering the worst parts of it all. And Reacher didn’t stay around for the crying, just the yelling, just her raw pain. Her telling him she hoped he broke an ankle on his journey to wherever his bitch-ass ended up. Her saying that if he knew he wasn’t ready for forever he shouldn’t have proposed. If he didn’t want her that way, then he didn’t have to make her fall in love with him. She threw his mother’s ring at his face and the last words she said to him were “I hope that you’re happy, I hope that you find what you’re looking for and I hope you realize you’ll never love whatever is out there as much as I loved you. I never want to see you again.”
And now she was supposed to have dinner with the man who broke her heart?
Fuck.
She stood slowly, walking carefully around the shards of broken glass and into the supply closet. She grabbed a broom and began to sweep up the mess she made. Unfortunately, she thought, I can’t sweep up the mess of my own life. She couldn’t even call her mother and talk through it. She had passed away a few months after Reacher left and that loss left her feeling utterly alone in this world. The one person she always had was her mom and without her, who was she?
She thought about calling Neagley, because she was always a practical voice, but that’s not what she needed right now. Adora didn’t want practicality. She wanted to hurt him the way he hurt her, but he’d have to have a heart for that to work and if he could do this to her, he was obviously lacking one.
She didn’t want to feel this way; this overwhelming pain that had numbed down when he wasn’t near, but went into full bloom the second she saw him open those doors to her store. She didn’t regret what she had said to him, because she was petty enough to mean it. But she did hate the way he looked at her when he closed the door after himself. Taking only the clothes on his back and a fucking toothbrush. Ever the minimalist. Enough that he couldn’t even consider taking her with him.
With the glass cleaned up and the store closed she watched the clock as the time passed…It was getting closer and closer to 8pm and while the diner he suggested was only a few blocks away from her, Adora didn’t know if she would be able to go. She didn’t know how to give him the opportunity to talk things out. What could he say that wouldn’t break her more? Truthfully, she didn’t know if he even has the ability to do that to her again or if her heart had become impenetrable to the power his words used to carry.
She ran her fingers through her curls and walked around her store considering the different outfit options. She couldn’t avoid him forever and she promised 30 minutes of her time and unlike him, she never broke a promise. It wasn’t like this was a date by any means, but she couldn’t go meet him in her “work clothes.” She found a cute top and kept on her dark wash jeans. She found a necklace, cute flats, and a clutch to match.
She was the exact opposite of ready to talk to him, but she at least looked the part. She looked at her impromptu outfit in the mirror and hope that he’d die of shock when he saw her. It wouldn’t give her closure but nothing that could happen to him could be worse than what he’d done to her.
As she locked up the store behind her, she took a deep breath before heading in the direction of the diner. Whatever happened tonight, whatever excuses he gave her, she knew this was going to change her future as she knew it. And for the first time in her life, she was making a choice that didn't feel like a beginning, but an ending that she was most certainly not prepared for.
Author's Note:
Thank you to everyone who showed love on the first 2 parts and I hope you enjoyed this one, just as much. Ask me any questions you have, give your honest opinions and please be respectful. Also, did y'all see the new Reacher season 3 trailer? Bae is looking fine as hell.
cw/tw: alcohol use, violence, military, sexual tension, power dynamics, flirting, character growth (let me know if I've missed anything)
Word count: 1.7k
August 5th, 2016
Adora wasn’t sure how to contain her excitement. This was easily the best day of her life, not counting the day she had enlisted. Being promoted to Major and then 2 months later being asked to join a special task force? Nothing could bring her high down.
She was one of very few women of color to have the many opportunities that had been afforded to her whilst she’d been enlisted. She knew part of it was being a legacy kid. Her mom had been a Command Sergeant Major in the army and being an army brat who could speak 4 languages by the age of 10 had intrigued a lot of the higher ups before she’d even been of age. It was no wonder she had exceeded expectations all with an air of excitement.
When she made the decision to enlist, it was an easy one. Adora spent most of her life on bases and travelling the world. She wasn’t comfortable staying in one place for too long, and while she was particular about her environment, she was adaptable. Joining a new team and being able to work on specialty projects was something she had only dreamed of and was more than capable of excelling at.
And Adora was riding high on that feeling until she walked into the shabby building housing more boxes filled with paper and dust than she’d ever seen in her life.
She knew this Special Unit that Reacher was putting together was new, but she wasn’t exactly prepared for the building to be so…decrepit. To be fair she hadn’t been prepped for any part of this new endeavor, but that was always the exciting part of the army: expecting the unexpected. And no one was more unexpected than Jack Reacher.
He was a tank of a man and she’d be lying if she said that she didn’t have a massive crush on him. His striking eyes and his body were one thing, but his rank and intelligence? Beautiful. He’d risen through the ranks like her, was heading up his own unit, and was known to follow a strict code of conduct. Just tell Adora that he also loved puppies, and she was a taken woman.
Walking into the spacious room behind Calvin Franz (another seemingly nervous) recruit and Reacher, Adora couldn’t help but feel there was some tension between their new “team” to say the least. She took survey of the mismatched group while Reacher was putting an obnoxiously blonde man in his place. Outside of the blonde who she believed was named O’Donnell; she took note of a black woman with soulful eyes, a white woman with dark hair who looked like she worked at a bank, a cute Asian man strumming a guitar, a black man that was old enough to be her dad (she’d have to see if he knew her mother), 2 beautiful Latino men (one with a large back tattoo), and of course Franz and Reacher. 10 people who would be tasked with working together for an unspecified amount of time.
She blanked out during the beginning of Reacher’s monologue, where she realized this was the most, she had probably ever heard the real-life G.I. Joe speak. They hadn’t interacted with each other much during their time enlisted, but in the few interactions they had shared he didn’t say much, but he handled his business. She wasn’t sure if his silence was intentional or if it was to keep himself distant from others. If it was to keep people away, that was unfortunate because she could definitely see herself keeping a close eye on him.
“…The army wanted a unit for particularly complex matters when they arose. To do that I need Special Investigators, not generic MPs.” Reacher concluded.
One of the Latino men with Orozco tatted on his back raised his hand before speaking “If we’re so special, why did the stick us in this dump? I mean, what is up with this place?” he asked with a laugh, which others on the team couldn’t help but join.
“Few years ago, Uncle Sam made an auction bid for some land down the road. Entered the address backwards and became the proud owners of this building and the contents of the now-defunct Callahan Insurance Agency…But you’re right. Place could work a little better.” Reacher explained.
Adora snorted “A little better? This place is a dump with a capital D and only bleach and hard work could make this even remotely workable.”
With a blink and you’d miss it smile, which she did not miss, Reacher continued and said, “Okay team, you heard the woman, straighten up these boxes and move these old tanker desks to the middle of the room.”
The rest of the team sighed and shifted their glares to Adora. She rolled her eyes and flipped her hair completely nonplused, “I just said what everyone else was thinking and I won’t apologize for it.”
Reacher sensing the tension said “Let’s go. You don’t have to call me ‘Major,’ but you do have to move your ass when I say so. Get to it.”
Adora stretched her legs and shoulders before grabbing a tanker box with the Black girl with the soulful eyes and they began exchanging pleasantries. She came to learn her name is Frances Neagley “Just Neagley please” and she was a Seargent, which was surprising. Not because she didn’t seem capable of the job, but Reacher picking someone relatively new seemed intriguing and she loved things that piqued her interest. Adora was never one to undermine Black women and if Neagley was on her team, then she knew they were more than equals, titles be damned.
“Reacher’s paying for beers once we’re done here” Franz announced walking over to the two women, and while the rest of the team looked slightly more upbeat after that, Adora could only think *This team is gonna need a hell of a lot of beer to make this thing work*
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Nothing could have prepared her for the uncomfortable silences during their bar visit. Adora wasn’t a heavy drinker, but she put that thought behind her while she sipped her 3rd beer to stay present during the more than awkward hang out session. She looked around the room, putting on her surveillance eyes and noticed too many men looking in their direction. She wasn’t sure why Reacher chose this place to drink, but she was almost a thousand percent sure this wasn’t going to end well…
And well…
Adora loved and hated that she was right about that outcome.
When the 91st approached their table and threatened Neagley, she was more than ready to go to bat for her sister in arms. But she didn’t get the chance before Reacher was already aggressively defending Neagley and the rest of the team. Of course that did lead to a bar fight, but what better way to unite a team than beating the shit out of another one?
And when Swan (the cute Asian) suggested they get out of there, because he knew the perfect place for a bonfire, how could the team refuse? And they warmed up to each other even more when Adora suggested they stop to pick up food and drinks on the way.
They’d all been fraternizing after drinking a few drinks more than she’d ever admit to, and she could feel the heavy and intoxicating effects of the alcohol and now all she wanted to do was get under a certain someone before the night was over.
Before the angel on her shoulder could stop her, Adora walked over to the Jeep where Reacher and Neagley were drinking and laughing at Swan’s perfectly imperfect singing. She didn’t care if Neagley heard her drunken attempts at getting Reacher to loosen up, someone had to get that man’s hips to move and Adora was the perfect candidate.
“You knew that fight was going to happen, didn’t you?” she asked coyly. She may have been drunk but she was all too aware that asking him to dance straight-up wouldn’t work, even if she was a little impatient.
“I mean, he didn’t ask nicely.” Reacher supplied with a sly smile.
“Was there any way he could have asked that didn’t end up with us throwing hands?”
“He could have said please.”
“And if I was to ask you to pretty-please dance, does that mean you’ll say yes?”
Reacher looked her up and down and Adora spun in a circle to give him an even better view. She knew he’d been looking at her anyways and who was she to not help, when help was obviously needed? She may be slim, but the girl had curves in all the right places that decades of exercise only seemed to enhance exponentially.
“As nice as that sounds, these 2 left feet prefer to stay planted on solid ground” he said while biting his lip, recognizing that she was trouble and while he never ran from trouble in his life, she was more than he could handle right now especially with the many beers in his system.
Adora smiled “Well, you know where to find me if you ever need a dance lesson.”
As she walked away, with an undeniable sway in her hips, she missed Neagley shoving Reacher and saying, “You should have taken her up on that offer, I doubt she makes it again.”
“I’m her superior, no amount of cute smiles and fluttering eyelashes is going to make me forget that… no matter how pretty she asks” he was slightly disappointed in himself for never letting his code falter. If she wasn’t on his team and if they weren’t drunk as hell, he wasn’t 100% sure that his answer would have been a no. To a dance or otherwise.
Adora’s good mood didn’t falter by Reacher’s unexplainable dismissal, she knew what she had to offer and what his code was. She was capable of just being happy to be in his presence and the presence of her new team members. This was the beginning of the rest of her life, and there was nothing that could bring her down.
Author's Note:
Thank you so much to everyone who read the first part of the story and showed love. I really appreciate it, especially with me just getting back into writing. Please ask me any questions you have, give your opinions and please be respectful. I'm doing this for fun and want to keep that energy going for any interactions.
Disclaimer: All of my works are meant for people 18 and older. Do not copy, translate, or repost without my permission. If there are any tags that you need added to any of my works, please message me 💖
My artwork was made using the app Polish, with additional imaging found on google and Pinterest. If you have any questions, please message me 💖
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
cw/tw: military, parental loss, sexual references, aging, health issues, angst, strong language, character growth, ptsd, trauma (let me know if I've missed anything)
word count: 1.5k
May 23rd,2018
“Mama, I told you I would get the mail from the post office today, the doctor told you to stop driving 4 months ago.” Adora chided her mother. She’d left the army with the rest of the 110th and was adjusting to being back in the real world and helping her mom the best that she was allowed to.
“Child, I have been driving for longer than you’ve been alive. And better if I do say so myself” Her mother, Justine, shot back. Justine James was not someone to second guess or mess with. She retired from the army as a Command Seargent Major and she absolutely commanded attention wherever she went. Yes, her age was catching up with her, but she was just as lively as ever.
“Mama,” Adora sighed, exasperated “I know you’ve been driving since the dinosaurs roamed the Earth, but with 2 cataracts in both eyes and glaucoma, you won’t be driving for much longer if you cause an accident.”
“Okay! You know, you are just as aggressive as your father was, with a smartass mouth to boot. Always bossing people around and being a know-it-all.” Here she goes again, Adora thought. Only ever bringing up her father when she was being irritated was her mom’s specialty, probably because mentioning the good moments only brought tears.
Adora’s father, Frederick James passed away when she was a child. He was a military man himself and was killed in action. She didn’t remember much about him, but she knew her mom was devastated when he passed. They lived on base and her mom got an immediate transfer to another base as soon as the funeral was over. They were the only family they had, and she knew her mom only meant it in jest, but she wished she had been able to know the highly decorated man more than she had the opportunity to.
“You know, I wouldn’t even have to drive that car if you were home more often instead of spending all your time with that Ken Doll.” Her mom concluded with a knowing smirk.
Adora couldn’t lie, she hadn’t been at home much. Since she left the army, she and Reacher had entered into a semi-relationship. Honestly most of their time was spent between the sheets of the master bed in her actual house that Reacher was currently living in. To be fair she wasn’t certain that he actually had a home. They weren’t doing much talking outside of the moans they shared while fucking. It had been all this pent-up sexual tension that he hadn’t let either of them work out until they were dismissed from their duties.
She tried to steer the conversation away from her situationship, not allowing her mom to distract her “Look mama, I’m only trying to help. If you would let me hire someone to care for you-”
“Stop that right there, I am not on my deathbed. I may be old and getting blinder by the day, but I am more than capable of taking care of myself. This is my house! I won’t be inviting any strangers into it! If I need help, I’ll call you or use this stupid LIFE Alert thing you make me wear.” Justine finished resolutely.
And Adora knew she meant business. She let the conversation die, trying not to rile her mother up any more than she already was. She fixed them some food and enjoyed dinner while they watched The Bachelor and critiqued the contestants.
She lost track of time, just enjoying being around her mom. While the 110th was her chosen family, her mom was the only family she had. Maybe she was a little overbearing, but she needed her mom in her life. She was her hero. The one person that was a constant. Adora had grown up on base after base. Spanning 5 of the 7 Continents and she was used to change. She just hoped nothing ever changed between her and her mom.
“Alright mama, I’m gonna head home. Remember that I’m just a call away. And you better call me.” Adora said with a laugh.
On the way home Adora thought of the man who had been sleeping in her bed, when they weren’t sleeping together. She always knew that Reacher wasn’t the type of man who could be kept, and she was comfortable with that. But lately he’d been getting more affectionate, and she wasn’t sure what to do about that. She wanted more, of course, but she was always aware that more wasn’t on the table. No matter what her heart said.
As she pulled into the driveway of the exquisite home the Army had afforded her, she saw Reacher standing in the doorway. Her heart was immediately aflutter. He had a way of looking at her that made her knees weak and panties wet. But she made up her mind. He wasn’t getting his hands on her before they discussed what this was.
Reacher walked up the car as Adora turned it off and opened the door for the stunning woman in front of him. Adora thanked him while avoiding the kiss he tried to place on her lips, allowing him to kiss her cheek instead. “Have you eaten?” she asked, avoiding the hurt look in his eye, as this was the first time she had ever rejected his kiss. “I ordered Thai while you were out, I figured you would be eating with Justine and didn’t want you to feel obligated to cook for me.” He said matter-of-factly. He was nothing if not thoughtful.
As he held the door to her home open for her, she avoided his gaze. Adora walked straight into her living room as Reacher followed behind her and as she sat on the couch where he joined her, she said the words no man ever wants to hear
“We need to talk.”
“About?”
“Us.”
“Okay?”
“What are we doing Reacher? No one word responses, no logical answers, what are we? Period. Because you look at me like I hung the moon, but I don’t think you’ve ever had a long-term relationship with anyone. I don’t want this to be just a couple of months of us hooking up and then you decide it’s over, and then I don’t get an explanation outside of this just being who you are and what you want. I deserve more than whatever is that we’ve been doing.” She rambled nervously. She couldn’t look at him while she spoke, knowing that whatever his answer was, her heart was on her sleeve like a tattoo.
“Oh. Well. I assumed you were my partner. You would be correct in guessing that I haven’t had a long-term relationship in the past, but you’re not my past. In fact, I’d like you to be my future.” He continued “I know I may not show my emotions easily and I keep my responses short, but I feel different with you. Good different. And I don’t ever want that to stop. Not when we’ve just begun.”
Adora looked into Reacher’s crystal blue eyes for the first time since she entered her home and knew he meant every word he said. Her heart felt like it was about to beat out of her chest, in the best way possible.
“Okay.” She said with a relieved sigh.
“Okay?” He repeated.
“Yeah.” She smiled.
“Now who’s the one with one-word responses?” He teased, trying to break the tension even more, knowing it must have taken a lot for her to bring this up to him. He’d noticed her becoming slightly distant a few days before, but he wasn’t a man of emotion, he was one of action. He knew it would only be so long before she aired out her grievances to him. If she hadn’t done it tonight, then he would have had to bring it up himself and that just seemed…revolting. But he’d do it for her. He’d do anything for her.
“I just have one request,” Adora replied “If I give you my heart, you have to give me yours too. If there are any issues, we can handle them together. I’m falling in love with you Reacher, and I don’t love lightly.” She was only slightly lying with that response, as she had known she was in love with him the night of the bonfire. She had the photo framed of that night on her mantelpiece and she knew that if he loved her back, that her heart was safe. Because Reacher took care of his own. And right now, she felt like every part of her being belonged to him.
“You have my heart Adora. I’m falling in love with you too.”
And as they sat on the couch realizing their genuine love for each other, in the back of her mind, all she could think was that she had been wrong before. This right here? This moment was the beginning of the rest of her life.
Author's Note:
Thank you for your patience, while I worked on getting this one out. There should only be 1 more part after this, but it may be a while before I have time to get it posted. Please ask me any questions you have. Be honest, be respectful, and have fun 💖
Genre(s): angst, drama, tragedy, fantasy (Hanahaki disease)
Group: Monsta X
Ha-eun looked down at her shaking hands. What caught her eyes were the shape of the flower petals. She knew she would have to visit the doctor for an accurate diagnosis and description of the flower, but holding the petal up with her two hands, she could already tell who it was.
No. It can’t be. It’s not him.
Even though she wished it wasn’t him, as she coughed up more petals, she had more than enough to layer them upon each other to create a single white rose -- the ones Kihyun usually gave her. He always tossed her one, like he did to others, which meant they weren’t particularly special to him or the people he was giving them to.
She continued to stare at the petals in disbelief, but the churning of her stomach pointed to fear of rejection.
“알다시피 하나하키병은 흔하지 않은 병이에요. 얼른 받아들이고 사랑하는 사람이 환자 분을 사랑하는지, 아니면 사랑할수 있을지 알아보세요. 짝사랑으로 계속 되면… 아시죠? 수술해야한다는거.” (Translation: “As you know, Hanahaki Disease is a rare disease. Please accept it and find out if the person you love loves you back or if he can love you back. If your unrequited love continues… you know right? Surgery is inevitable.”)
The doctor’s words drifted in and out of her ears. Ha-eun couldn’t believe she really had Hanahaki Disease. As her hands clenched the diagnosis sheet, she whispered, “아니...에요. 거짓말… 전 짝사랑같은거 안 해요.” (Translation: “No…. you’re lying… I don’t do things like unrequited love.”) Her words pulled a sympathetic sigh from the doctor, and that’s all Ha-eun could take.
Without looking up at him even once during the visit, she clutched the diagnosis sheet in her hands and jolted out of her seat. “저… 못들은걸로 할게요. 감사합니다.” (Translation: “I’m… going to pretend I didn’t hear anything. Thank you.”) Bowing curtly, Ha-eun sprinted out the door. She heard her doctor yelling after her, but she couldn’t continue hearing his nonsense. Even though she tried to brainwash herself that everything up until then was a dream, her eyes wandered to the papers in her hands and the queasy feeling in her stomach came back.
*Bzzt bzzt*
The notification startled Ha-eun out of her daze, but when she looked down to see who it was, her stomach lurched again and she could feel another petal come up.
Kihyun.
기현 (Kihyun): 야! 오늘 하루종일 어딨었어? 집에 도착하면 연락해! 14:37 (Translation: Hey! Where have you been all day today? Let me know when you get home! 2:37pm)
Leaving the message on read, Ha-eun blankly dried her tears as the pain of coughing up petals continued to strain her. She was only in the first stage, but she could tell soon enough, she’d be reaching second stage -- coughing up whole flowers. She knew she had to be careful around Kihyun from now on, but it would be even harder to hide from him when she entered the second stage. What was the doctor even talking about, confronting Kihyun about it? No way in hell.
She dragged her feet as she trudged back home, not caring about the petals that fluttered out of her hands and onto the dirty streets of Seoul.
*Ding dong*
Silence
*Di-ng dong*
“너 집에 있는거 다 알거든? 그니까 문 부수기 전에 열어라.” (Translation: “I know you’re in there, okay? So open the door before I break it.”)
Ha-eun grunted at the small voice coming from behind her door. As she approached her front door, she quietly asked, “왜 왔어?” (Translation: “Why are you here?”)
“네가 내 문자 씹어서.” (Translation: “Because you ignored my message.”) Kihyun sighed, from the other side. “무슨일 있었어? 많이 아파? 얼굴좀 보고 얘기하자…” (Translation: “Is there something wrong? Are you really sick? Let’s talk face to face…”)
Don’t be nice to me. She leaned her forehead against the cool metal door, but kept quiet. She was still in the same clothes when she went to the doctor earlier that day, but her hair and her clothes were disheveled after laying in bed for hours after she came back.
Kihyun softly asked, “나한테 말 하면 안돼…? 나한테 기대도돼.” (Translation: “You can’t tell me…? You can lean on me.”)
Stop making me misunderstand.
“하은아… 거기 있지? 듣고 있지?” (Translation: “Ha-eun… you’re there, right? Are you listening?”)
Don’t call my name. Tears sprang to her eyes when she felt something bigger come up. As she stifled her breath and covered her mouth with her hands, an excruciating pain hit her chest. She almost gagged, but since Kihyun was still on the other side of the door, she dug her nails into her cheeks to stay quiet as the flower bud came up. And when her hands held a small, incomplete rose bud, she couldn’t help but let out a small whimper.
“하은아? 정하은!! 괜찮아?” (Translation: “Ha-eun? Jung Ha-eun!! Are you okay?”) Kihyun’s voice sounded frantic, but Ha-eun could only slide down onto her knees quietly, hugging herself to calm the wave of tears.
His voice was like poison, and the effect it had on her was detrimental. It almost seemed like he truly cared for her, like he loved her. But she knew how kind Kihyun was with all of his friends -- he cared for them equally, and her love would continue to go unrequited. Huh? I guess I do have that thing called unrequited love.
*** TBC ***
A/N: I don’t normally do AUs/fantasy stuff but I just wanted to do this ONE fic about hanahaki disease bc I recently read a fic about it and it was just too intriguing to pass by on! dw I’m still working on DIHM!!
Genre(s): angst, drama, tragedy, fantasy (Hanahaki disease)
Group: Monsta X
*Cough* *Cough*
What the… hell? Minhyuk stared down at what his hands caught. It wasn’t mucus or spit, but soft flower petals. Frowning at the petals, he tried to wrap his mind around the change in his body.
“오빠! 민! 오! 빠! 어딨어?” (Translation: “Babe! Min! Ba-! By! Where are you?”)
Her sing-song voice caught him off guard. The gears in his mind were spinning like crazy, and he couldn’t stop all the little thoughts from pouring into his head. He knew, however, if he was coughing up petals, then the person he called his girlfriend in his kitchen… no fucking way.
As Minhyuk heard her light footsteps come closer, he tried to take deep breaths, in an attempt to keep his rage at bay. However, when the door opened and she looked at him with such bright, pure eyes, he couldn’t help but seethe inside. Through his gritted teeth, Minhyuk growled, “장예원… 너… 누구야?” (Translation: “Jang Yewon… You… who is it?*”)
“내가 누구긴?” (Translation: “What do you mean who are you?*”) She giggled. But the sight of Minhyuk made her stop immediately. She probably noticed it too. He couldn’t hide his rage, even if he tried to, but he was actually letting it seep out like a thick coat. With one eyebrow raised, Yewon took one step closer. “왜그래?” (Translation: “What’s wrong?”)
They stared at each other in silence. When her eyes flitted to his hands and what he was holding, the color in her face drained completely. She turned pale and her eyes widened, a reaction that drove a stake into Minhyuk’s heart.
She stammered, “민...오빠.. 오빠.. ㄴ-내가…” (Translation: “Min-baby… babe… I-I’m…”)
Her apology shot an electric shock to his heart as Minhyuk went into a coughing fit. Petals came up left and right, and his large hands couldn’t even catch all of them. As they fluttered through the air, her large doe eyes were filled with grief and regret. She fell to her knees as tears welled up and she clutched at her own heart.
And it clicked inside.
“나를 이렇게 버리고… 넌… 고작 짝사랑하는거야?” (Translation: “After leaving me like this… you… you’re just in a one-sided love?”) He scoffed. She cried even harder at that, and the petals trying to free themselves burned his throat. He couldn’t even feel pity for the sight of her kneeled down hugging herself, trying to keep herself from throwing up flowers. All he could see was red and all he could feel was his own pain. In between his coughs, Minhyuk asked, “그래서… 그 새끼는 누군데?” (Translation: “So… who’s the bastard?”)
She shook her head vigorously, even though the nauseousness started to kick in. Minhyuk sarcastically joked, “뭐… 내가 아는 사람은 아니겠지?” (Translation: “Well.. it can’t be someone I know, right?”)
Silence
His eyes drew back to her figure -- she sat very still for the first time, and her dead expression explained everything to him. Before the next round of tears could start, Minhyuk growled, “빨리… 말해. 누. 구. 야.” (Translation: “Hurry up… and say it. Who. Is. It.”)
Still hearing silence, he walked closer to her. Only then did she reach into her pockets and pull out the flowers. Some were simply petals, but others were full buds and heads. White roses.
Despite the bubbles boiling over, he could feel the next bout of petals ready to come out at the name. He couldn’t believe his eyes-- that his girlfriend, his now ex-girlfriend, was in love with Kihyun. The same Kihyun who was the main vocalist of their group. The Kihyun who always bought a single white rose for his secret admirer. That Kihyun.
Unable to stand his ground firmly anymore, Minhyuk stumbled backwards at the revelation. His hand tried to grip the nearest thing, only to knock down a few glass frames. When the glass shattered, neither of them reacted much to it. Minhyuk simply stared down at the glass pieces, almost in a daze, because they seemed to personify the state of his heart and spirit at the moment. He stared blankly at the pictures, pictures of them happily smiling, that fell out of the frames before whispering, “기현이한테... 말할거야. 다른 멤버들 한테도 말할거야. 내가 다… 사실대로 얘기할거야.” (Translation: “I’m going to… tell Kihyun. I’m going to tell the other members too. I’m going to… tell them everything honestly.”)
“안돼!!!!” (Translation: “NO!!!!”) Yewon screamed.
*Cough*
Yewon continued to scream, “안돼!! 하지마, 제발, 내가 대신 죽을게…” (Translation: “No!! Don’t do it, please, I’ll just die instead…”)
*Cough*
Blood? He wasn’t sure how the Hanahaki Disease worked, if stage two could approach so quickly. Or was it that Yewon’s strong emotions spurred his disease to worsen suddenly? His vision started to blur, but he could tell Yewon hadn’t noticed the blood in his hands as she continued to scream and cry on the ground.
They stayed in their positions like that, with thousands of pieces of glass surrounding them, with Yewon sobbing and Minhyuk slowly drifting to unconsciousness. As he heard the door creak open and saw the other members run in, Minhyuk coughed one last time. Seeing the full peony flower spill out of his lips, a single tear slipped out of his eyes before he collapsed onto the ground.
*** TBC ***
A/N: * so when Minhyuk asks who is it -- in Korean, without the “...” pause, it could be misinterpreted as him asking who are you, which is why Yewon jokes asking why he’s asking who she is // anyway short chapter but I hope to be more active this week and actually post all four parts of Torn this week (lol)
