#Stray doc x male reader

[pattysplaceofplaces]

hi!! if your requests are open could i request doc x male reader sickfic :) ?

Medicine 

Doc x Male Reader

     “You should have been more careful, Y’know.” 

“OOoOooOh you should have been more CAaaaAreful.” You playfully mocked as you repositioned the blankets so that all the layers were securing your body. Despite your huffing and puffing  you were grateful for him taking care of you. It had been about a year and a half since you got out of your crypto-pod yet you should have been more careful with your body as Doc had warned you about.  

Living with mostly robots caused you to often push yourself harder than you should. It was easy to forget you weren’t like them, that you were delicate. You ignored the red stinging of your nose and how your hands went numb. You didn’t want to be the weak one of the group. Most of your encounters with other bots were quite pleasant but occasionally there was a bot who’d stare at you for too long, some that would talk amongst each other not expecting you to know their language as fluently as you did, some even seemed interested in courting you although not filled with endearing intentions like Doc did. They seemed to see you as some sort of luxury accessory or exotic animal. 

“I want you to drink this.” He said, giving a small plastic cup to you. You smelled it and grimaced. “I know, I know it doesn’t taste good but it’s the best we have. Perhaps tomorrow I’ll gather some tea leaves from Clementine.” It’s amazing what could be made with the wild plants that managed to grow. You could have the best tea you’ve ever tasted or medicine that made you want to gag. 

“I do these things only because I love you.” You said before you chugged down that horrible medicine. You slammed the cup down on the counter and let out a cough. You just drank it too fast, your throat was burning. 

“I love you too dear.” Doc said, still in his matter of fact tone. “Is the temperature of the room okay?” He asked, looking at his unfinished blueprint on the desk. 

You smiled and held your arms out. “Wow, abandoning me for your work?” You said sarcastically, feigning betrayal. “I am very sick and you abandon me? Your loving boyfriend?” At first Doc looked tense like you were actually calling him out then you giggled, letting him know you weren’t actually mad at him. Your partner was a big workaholic so you’d do anything you could to get him out of his work, something Seamus was grateful for. 

He walked towards you and sat down at the foot of the bed, you grabbed his arm pulled him closer. “Careful careful!” He stabled himself with his arm. “I don’t want to crush you. My edges are a bit sharp.” You rolled your eyes at his vigilant behavior and hugged him tightly. The sound of his systems operating was something you couldn’t fall asleep without.  The quiet hum was so nice against you and the metal of his chest was somewhat warm. 

You didn’t even know you were tired until you dazed off into his arms. Little did you know he felt the same way.

[n0cturna1-m3]

Pink In The Night | Gary "Roach" Sanderson x Male Reader | Angst

Minors/Fem DNI

Warnings; Hurt/no comfort, cheating, minor alcohol consumption

A/N; I ALMOST MADE TWO OF MY BETA READERS CRY WITH THIS ONE LMAOOO, one being Doc, ty Doc. I could have sworn this was a request, but I can't find it so whatever. I feel bad cuz another person requested fluff with roach and this is comin out first 😭❤️ godspeed soldier. i left the other man unnamed. you can decide who it is :)

Synopsis; Mistakes are made on lonely nights. This is evident in a man's hands on another, and the turmoil of what he has done come after.

1.6k words. Short and sweet

How did he end up like this? Roach’s mind was buzzing with thoughts, mostly regret, but also a small part being exhilaration. Something so taboo so frowned upon, but it felt so good.

As he gazed at the man next to him, a co-worker and dear friend, he felt guilt begin to gnaw at his chest. Rapidly his body began burning with shame, nausea settling in as bile crept up his throat, threatening to force up his dinner.

“Fuck,” he groaned, shuffling out of the other man's embrace and crawling off of the bed, walking to the bathroom as quickly as possible. He hunched over the toilet and began retching, emptying the contents of his stomach into the bowl. When he finished, he spat the remaining liquid out of his mouth and reached for the toilet paper, ripping off a piece and wiping his mouth before dropping it into the toilet and reaching for the leaver.

He sat back and pulled his legs to his chest, resting his forehead on his knees with his arms at his sides.

“What have I done…”

The following days before he returned home were excruciating. He would have time to think of what he would say to Y/N, but inevitably knowing the outcome pained him.

He loved Y/N more than anything in the world, so why did he stray? He asked himself this over and over again, eventually concluding that a month and a half of being deployed left him touch starved and desperate. What a horrible excuse to cheat on your partner. He wanted to kick himself and force himself two days ago to stay in his room all day. Maybe if he played sick he wouldn't have had the temptation, though he doubted it.

There were only three days before he was going home. Why didn’t he wait? He knew Y/N would welcome him with open arms, treat him sweetly and shower him with love and affection. Why couldn't he wait?

As he was driven home in a cab after being dismissed, he felt worry invade his body. His hands were clammy, an uncomfortable warmth spreading throughout his limbs, settling in his throat.

By the time he arrived, it was later than he would have liked. The sun was about to set to allow the moon time to shine, to taunt him with the knowledge of what Roach had done in its presence. He flinched when he noticed the murder of crows on the roof, seven standing and watching him as he opened the door and stepped out, grabbing his duffel bag from the seat next to him and waving the driver goodbye.

He turned back to the house, unease filling his mind as one of the crows tilted its head at him. Their eyes were on him as he walked up to the front door and fumbled with his keys to unlock the front door. When he finally got it open, he sighed with relief, quickly slamming the door behind him to escape the beetie, endless black eyes that assessed him, silently judging every part of his soul.

They knew everything. They hold knowledge and power in their being. They carry secrets between their feathers. What secrets would they share tonight?

Roach takes a few deep breaths before dropping his bag to his side and kneeling to remove his shoes. Y/N emerged from the kitchen with a worried face before it quickly turned to happiness, a wide smile covering his handsome features.

“Hi,” he greeted, fondness written on his face. His head was tilted to the side as he gazed at Roach with a sort of longing.

“Hi, Y/N,” Roach said, pulling off his shoes and setting them to the side before grabbing his bag.

“Leave it, I’ll take care of it later,” Y/N said, waving his hand. “You must be tired.”

Roach just nodded, placing the duffel against the wall and walking towards Y/N who eagerly wrapped his arms around Roach’s shoulders and pulled him into a warm hug.

“Christ, I missed you so, so much, baby,” he whispered, squeezing Roach tight. He buried his face into his neck and breathed in his scent.

Roach hesitantly wrapped his arms around Y/N’s torso, holding him back. Tears stung the back of his eyes as Y/N embraced him, holding him close to his chest.

“I missed you, too,” he said. Y/N kissed Roach’s temple before pulling away.

“Dinner is almost ready if you’d like to sit down,” Y/N said. Roach nodded and wiped his nose with his sleeve as Y/N returned to the kitchen

He made his way to the small dining table and sat down, running his hands through his hair with anxiety. He rubbed his eyes and tried to calm his brain, taking deep breaths and counting down from ten to ground himself.

“Is Camille Giroud Bourgogne okay?” Y/N asked from the kitchen. Roach placed a hand on his chest as he looked back at him. “You look stressed. What’s going on in your brain?” he asked, knitting his eyebrows together.

“Nothing,” Roach lied, a small smile spreading over his face. “It’s been a long month.”

“So, red’s okay?”

“Red is good.”

Y/N hummed in acknowledgement and turned to grab two wine glasses from a cabinet, setting them on the counter before grabbing two plates of blood-red meat, seared medium rare with a wine sauce and green beans plated with it, well seasoned. He set one plate in front of Roach, placing the other at the seat in front of him.

Roach’s mouth watered at the sight, but he refrained from tearing into the meal, instead waiting for Y/N to fetch the wine and the glasses. He poured them each a glass before sitting down.

“I’m glad you’re home,” Y/N said, picking up his wine and taking a sip. Roach nodded before beginning to eat.

They ate quietly, all the while Roach had to think of how to tell Y/N what he had done. There was no way that he couldn't tell him. Rather quickly his appetite failed him and he set down his fork and knife, staring at his half-full plate.

“Are you alright?” Y/N asked, chewing on a piece of meat before setting his utensils on his plate. Roach didn’t respond. His hands twitched on the table. “Gary?”

He looked up and suddenly felt a pang in his chest. Y/N looked so worried for him. For someone who fucked a different man.

“I cheated on you,” he whispered. It was almost inaudible. Y/N thought he heard wrong.

“What?” he asked, eyes scanning his face in hopes of a lie.

“I-” Roach choked, staring back into the eyes of his lover. Was he still allowed to call him that? His mouth was dry as he fought to tell him the truth. “I cheated on you.”

Y/N felt his heart stop. His throat closed up and his face rapidly began burning with… what feeling was this? There’s no way to describe it. Partly embarrassment. Partly shame. Partly betrayal. Mostly horror.

“I slept with someone three days ago,” Roach said, turning to stare at the centre of the table. Y/N whimpered and covered his face with his hands, taking multiple heaving breaths. “I’m so sorry. I’m so-”

“Stop,” Y/N whispered shakily. His shoulders shook violently as he sobbed into his palms.

His eyes burned as he watched Y/N sob near silently in front of him, hunched over in his chair and shaking.

“I didn’t mean to. I was just so lonely, and- and-” he tried to explain, tears welling in his own eyes.

“Please, stop,” he sobbed, pulling his hands away from his face in favour of wrapping his arms around himself

“I’m begging you, Gary.”

“I just-”

“I can’t…” Y/N huffed, his bottom lip quivering. He hung his head and let out a guttural sob. “I can’t,” he whispered.

Roach wiped his eyes and frowned when Y/N stood up, pushing his chair in and taking his plate and wine. He scraped the food into the garbage bin and placed it in the sink before walking away. Roach watched him as he walked into the bathroom and locked it. Maybe he should have waited. Maybe he should have planned more.

Roach cleaned up after both of them before going into their shared bedroom and sitting on the bed. He thought it would be best to wait up for Y/N, but he ended up falling asleep anyway. He dreamt of that mistake, it looming over him like a horrible shadow, and it left him waking up in a cold sweat. The sun was beginning to rise behind the curtains, scaring away the night, but a crow sat on the windowsill. They always know.

He stood from the bed, noticing that Y/N was nowhere to be seen. Panic flooded his mind, and he quickly walked from the bedroom, looking into the living room. He worried when he saw nothing before remembering the bathroom. He walked to the door quietly and hesitated as he raised his fist and knocked lightly.

It was quiet for a long moment before Y/N said quietly, “Come in.”

Roach opened the door. Y/N was sitting in the empty bathtub with the light off. His hands were clasped on his lap. Roach flicked on the light and watched Y/N from the doorway.

Y/N’s eyes were puffy and bloodshot, his face stained with dried tears from sobbing all night. His eyes were fixated on the tile on the wall.

“Who was it?” he finally asked. Roach told him the name of the man, and Y/N simply took in a shaky breath before beginning to cry again. “Of course…”

“What?”

Y/N paused.

“You’ve always looked at him differently,” he said. Roach opened and closed his mouth. “If you want to be with him, it's okay.”

“Why,” Roach began, his head spinning with a headache, “Why aren't you angry? Why won’t you yell at me and cuss me out?”

Y/N turned his head to look at him, their eyes meeting for the first time since the night before.

“Because I love you.”

[frostycatblr-fandom-files]

Sorry, Wrong Comms! : Hunter x Medic!Reader [Chapter 7]

Warnings and Information: Intended audience is 13+ (18 if you squint.) **THIS IS PART ONE OF CHAPTER 7.** I needed to cut the chapter in “half” to avoid a nearly 14k word count (at my current estimation)! There will be a Chapter 7.5 with the bulk of the chapter material, and the W&I has been halved appropriately to cover each respective part without being a mile long or spoiling what's to come. ;)

Should hopefully know the drill about my use of italics, Mando'a and headcanons by this point in the series. Mostly Star Wars swearing. Couple of lines throughout both halves get suggestive. Batch throws a surprise birthday party via trickery à la Crosshair. (Read as, to Hunter: mildly "weaponizing" the profession of Medic!Reader.) Vague, passing mention of self-injurious behavior brought up with discomfort and anxiety. Mentions of stitches and vague descriptions of healing injuries. Hopefully the explanation for the reason Hunter's (mostly) healed so fast within two days makes sense [as a reminder we're just pretending we understand how Star Wars medicine works for this AU]. Trying to explain the layout of the house is tricky, but at least bedrooms aren't. Party shenanigans start kicking off. Passing reference to alcoholic beverages, but none are actually present.

Word-count: 5,899

tpp-tpp-tpp-tpp-TPP!

The stern scratching at her door in the afternoon roused her from the holofilm she'd been watching, and she realized with a start what time it was. Blast, she'd honestly meant to grab a bite to eat an hour ago, but she'd been so absorbed in the plotline of the film Tech had said Omega and Hunter had been watching in the picture she was shown that she hadn't actively kept track of the time. Maybe that ruckus at the door was the little stray Tooka kitten she'd been seeing lately, hearing another round of scratching start up. 

Poor little thing - she wasn't sure how to tell the difference between male and female Tooka, she wasn't in animal medicine but at least knew that Tookas were a specific breed of Loth-cat - had been so skinny and malnourished the last time she'd seen it she left a plate of meat scraps out for the little mite the first time she'd noticed them skulking around and hoped for the best. 

Every now and then, the little thing she'd named Spoon showed up, looking healthier with each visit. (Why the name "Spoon", she couldn't remember.) Maybe that was them. "Spoon? That you, little thing?" Blast it, the door was acting sticky again and wouldn't open all the way. "Hold on little guy, gimme a second…" 

Dexterous fingers wrapped around the exposed lip of the blast door and helped [____] wrench it back to her surprise in a burst of frustrated strength. "Who the shit you calling little?" Crosshair inquired in a voice of shivering silk as the medic fully tugged open the door. 

He did not enjoy being called "little" ironically. He'd tolerated it well enough on the rare occasion he got sick and decided he wouldn't tough it out like a foolish cadet might; he understood well enough the woman had her habits given the age range of her patients. But he did not tolerate the memory of the old impressions that he was incapable of minding himself or keeping his brothers safe just because he didn't fit the general body type of the Grand Army of the Republic.

Her hands went icy and the knuckles paled with the force of the tight curling as she tried to explain herself. "Er, definitely not you Crosshair. I'm so kriffing sorry about that; I thought there was-" 

Rrow! Hccck! 

Spoon darted between the pair, skittering to a halt in front of the man with its hackles raised up at the sniper, one chicken-like paw raised threateningly and poised to swat. The toothpick rolled with the dry chuckle in response to further hissing and teeth-baring, the fleeting moment of the marksman's anger gone. "Hm. Didn't know you had a pet, doc. Don't think your Loth-cat likes me."

Her giggle was returned with a single, hearty chuckle as he bent over and scooped the light-furred feline off the stoop by the scruff like it weighed nothing in his hand. [____]'s head wagged slowly, eyes fixed on the feline currently held aloft in the dexterous hands of the often-moodiest member of the Bad Batch. "Oh the little one isn't mine, he or she's a stray, far as I can tell," she murmured, still distractedly watching the pissed-off critter do their best to intimidate the sniper. "I'm sorry, Cross, guess this stray I've been feeding on occasion really doesn't like you!"  

"Nothin' I'm not used to." The drawl of Crosshair's slightly smoky, serpentine voice was devoid of any self-pity or anger she might have expected, forgetting he tended to look back on his time as a cadet with near-total apathy as a way to cope with the experimentation. (It's the past, doll. Shit sucked, I won’t lie to you. Long-necks probably pretended they were deities while making the perfect soldiers for the perfect army. I try not to cry about it much.) "And this little womp rat doesn't scare me. Takes a guy with a tough act to recognize another's; I don't give a Sith's left tit if… she doesn't like me." 

Duh, looking under the Tooka's tail, why hadn't she thought of that? "Spoon is a “she”?" 

Crosshair just nodded and set the wriggling critter down, laughing softly at her when Spoon swiped at him in warning (and missed) before she slunk off into the open door of [____]'s house with a final spitting hiss and bared teeth. Looks like the medic had been adopted by a Tooka kitten now. Crosshair stitched his arms loosely across his chest, casually leaning back against the doorframe to soften his stance. "Guess I should stop circling the gunship and get to the hangar. Sorry to make you play doctor on your birth-day, kid, but I've got a concern about Hunter that I wanted to run by you, if that's alright." 

Right to it, no excuses: Clearly if Crosshair was concerned, this had to be something. He never liked openly admitting things weren't quite right to those he didn't trust. She knew she was one of the lucky few, so she took it seriously. "More than; I take it something came up?" She had a few possibilities in mind. Bad reaction to something she prescribed? Did he need something stronger? Did his brother think Hunter had come down with something since his immune system was going to be temporarily out of sorts with severe injuries like that?

"His stitches. They haven't torn, but they're driving him crazy because those lacerations seem to have nearly healed up. We're not sure how long they take to, uh, absorb? Dissolve?" Crosshair shrugged when he wasn't sure what the appropriate word to use was. Yeah, he'd heard her go over the jargon with Omega just two days ago, but so much had happened since then that the doctor was unaware of. "I'm not the JOAT-med, so I figured that was better to ask you." 

"Right, right…" [____] hummed softly in agreement, thinking before gently probing into the problem, "when you say they're driving him "crazy" you mean…?"

"He keeps trying to scratch at them if they aren't covered with gauze." Blast, that wasn't what she hoped to hear, but it was hardly a surprise all the same. She found them unpleasantly itchy herself in a past incident that necessitated their use after a classmate wasn't being careful with his scalpel. No surprises that student was thrown out of that intergalactic med school shortly after, and she got to be the live demonstration for how to stitch wounds by hand.

To this day she could still find a faint, pinkish scar on her non-dominant hand. A reminder that her profession was only just beginning, back then. The smallest taste of things to come in her efforts to aid the sick and the injured in the galaxy. "I see. Well, glad to hear we're trying to keep them covered, from the sound of things." Look on the bright side. "I don't mind swinging by and checking those stitches, if that's what you have in mind." 

"So long as you really don't mind…" Crosshair checked once more. He and the others, minus Hunter who was against the idea of being used as bait no matter what truth there was to the stitches, were sure this would guarantee that they'd get her over to their housing so they could throw her a little party. Nothing too fancy by any means, but they knew that wouldn't be an issue. Nobody ever remembers how well a party was decorated, just how much fun it was. 

And they did hope it'd be a night to remember, with or without Hunter professing his feelings. Her first birthday she wasn't working at her clinic in a few years, and a long awaited taste of normalcy - participating in a special occasion - for all of the vode. 

"Not at all, I swear. Let me grab my medbag." [____] insisted with a sunny smile. “Be right back.”

“No rush,” Crosshair promised, pulling something out of his pocket. When she ducked back into the house, Cross tapped out a simple message into the communication device.

target acquired ETA five min

think you better take something for your nerves, lover boy

He smirked devilishly at the unamused reply from his bandana’d brother just before the medic stepped out of the house, her bag of supplies in-hand.

Shut the kriff up.

"SURPRISE, KID!" Wrecker's voice boomed loudest over his brothers' and sister's as [____] and Crosshair breached the threshold. 

There were party decorations at eye level and near the ceiling that immediately caught her attention. All the same color/s in various shades and hues. Plastic and foil balloons scattered throughout the house. Tacked to the wall in the central room was a large paper banner, bearing her name in Echo's tidy Aurebesh behind the Clone-specific quirk of a hyphenated happy birth-day. 

"A-aw guys…" she spluttered, voice tight and choked with emotion, "...y-you really-?" She felt silly that she was dangerously close to crying, not quite sure why the simple act of them throwing a little surprise party for her, such a happy notion, was bringing tears to her eyes like this. 

"Sorry, kid…" Echo tutted soothingly, drawing her close to him with the tight encircling of both arms, that steady and comfortable pressure that allowed her to feel the rumble of his chest as he spoke, "we didn't overwhelm you, did we?" 

"N-no! No-no, I just wasn't expecting this," [____] assured her friends as they came closer to make sure she was okay, or going to be, drawing the heel of her hand across her face to dry her eyes with a light-hearted chuckle. "I came 'cause Crosshair said that Hunter's stitches were bothering him, as a way to get me here I guess, and I wanted to see how I could help… I hadn't expected a little party at all." Oh Maker, she had to admit he'd gotten her good, that kind of concern specific to Crosshair had felt so real and… 

She looked up at Hunter directly for the first time once Echo had released her, asking Wrecker to help him pull the party snacks out of the kitchenette and set them out now that [____] was here. She expected to see a sheepish and apologetic grin from the man with that dark, handsome half-skull tattoo, maybe hear a gentle murmur of apology for weaponizing her profession in order to get her to come by; that he was fine, that she didn't need that big medbag carried in her non-dominant hand.

But she could see it when she really looked at his face, the sharp pinch in his brow and the raised tracklines of his fingernails where he scratched around the gauze she could see under the neckline of his shirt, (again in her favorite color, all of them were wearing something in her favorite color she realized), that there was truth to Crosshair's admittance of concern for one of his family after all. "Oh… Hunter, would you like me to take a look at the stitching?" 

Hunter shifted his weight from left to right foot, then back again. "I-if you don't mind..."

She was not about to let her friend, a dear friend and an often selfless man, wave off his needs or deny himself some relief, comfort, just because it was her birthday. "Not at all, I swear. Where would you prefer we take care of this for you?" 

Hunter regarded the question with a healthy degree of guilt. You could take the doctor out of her clinic, but you couldn't stop her from doing her job. Not even on her birthday. Maker, she was so selfless. So devoted to the sick and injured. So worried. 

"Hunter, I really do mean it when I said I don't mind at all. Crosshair, he, uh…" she glanced at the brother in question with a look of uncertainty, and when given an approving nod she continued, "Crosshair said the stitches were driving you crazy. Or he was worried that they were. S-something like that." Of course Crosshair had noticed, as expected, but telling her? That's what he'd gone with in order to lead her to their house? Did he weaponize her dedication to her profession?

Why was she looking at him like that?

Crosshair's hand caught his wrist, voice a sharp but low rumble, the warning thunder before a storm. "Hunter. Stop trying to scratch your stitching, for Maker's sake. Let her take care of it." 

"S-sorry," Hunter tried, hoping to placate Crosshair's temper and [____]'s expression of gnawing worry. "didn't realize I was…" 

Crosshair turned back to the grown woman, addressing her while he kept Hunter's hand in check. "His room is the door you can see at the end of the hall. You won't want to use the 'fresher, still need to mop up some water on the floor." 

"Meant to get a pipe fixed… Got fixated and caught up with helping decorate." Tech muttered apologetically, rattling down a note-to-self with the keys of his datapad at the sniper's reminder. "It should not pose a problem and prevent use of the refresher during the party for anyone." 

"No worries! Good to know." [____] chuckled softly, giving Tech a reassuring smile and a nod to Crosshair so she could take Hunter's hand. The casual nature of the gesture made his heart flutter. "Okay, bedroom it is. Shouldn't be too long." With every door they passed, Hunter just wanted to sink into the floor, deep into the planet's crust if he could. Yes he'd once dreamed of a moment like this, whether that would've been with someone special or just a casual little tryst during the days of the Clone Wars, feeling so dominant and powerful and wanted with some sexy little thing caged on the mattress below him but… 

Those steamy scenes didn't take place in corners of the galaxy that looked so dull. Sterile. A carbon copy of a minimalism showroom out of those one-in-a-million remodeling shows you could find somewhere on the Holonet. 

"Wow," [____] started, breaking Hunter's cycle of thoughts, "pretty tidy in here. Think I might have to ask you for some pointers on how to organize mine, heheh…" He understood the teasing was meant also as a compliment, but Maker, he hated his room. Barren walls. The muted paint the housing came with. The snug, uneven desk he never used aside from doing weapon care in the upper right-hand corner. A few dingy, beat up books on top of the footlocker at the foot of his bed that he found kicking around the Marauder that no one had memory of collecting. 

That's what caught her eye first as she moved past the footlocker to set the medkit at the end of the bed. "Those look well loved… I didn't take you for reading in your spare time," she admitted with a gentle smile, hoping by talking about general things, Hunter wouldn't be so embarrassed about stripping off half of his clothing in front of her if he had something to focus on. As he slowly hiked the short-sleeve over his head she noted the two different names on the spine of each book and asked over the soft grunt of pain, "Your favorite authors?" 

Through gritted teeth as he did his best not to swear out loud, Hunter shook his head stiffly. "Kriff… N-not really… just kinda keep 'em around, I guess." [____] hummed pleasantly, breaking open the seal around a blindly selected fresh roll of gauze. Get the last step ready and waiting for her so she could cap off this unofficial in-house treatment that much quicker for him once she'd relieved him of his bothersome sutures. "Is it just the stitching on your shoulder that's being a nuisance? Or the ones here too?" Gesturing to the larger patch of gauze taped to his stomach, she couldn't immediately see signs he'd been itching around or messing with the bandage tape since the last time he or his brothers had likely changed out the wrappings. 

Hunter shook his head, sucking in his teeth as [____] gingerly removed the medical wrapping taped to his shoulder. It was peculiar that the smaller of the two injuries was the one that hurt most. "Sorry… Doing my best to be gentle."

"Y-you're fine, burc'ya."

"Let's see how turning your skin blue with all that bacta-gel the past two days has been doing." The wrapping removed, [____] was now visually assessing the remnants of the detonation injury. There was no burning, glaring redness or discharge that suggested infection, and the regenerating, recovering edges that were pale and pinkish were a promising sight. She was surprised that the injury had closed so rapidly already. (Okay, she really had to pick Tech's brain about healthcare in Clones to get to the bottom of a few questions one of these days.) 

"Everything looks good. Like, really good. I can remove the sutures pretty painlessly, and you just keep on doing whatever it is that's made this close up so fast. Hiding some kind of accelerated healing factor Clones have from me, or are you using some kind of super bacta?" she couldn't help herself and paused for a moment to have a silly little giggle at her own joke, missing the moment that Hunter's pained frown briefly mirrored the medic's smile before she took a calming, self-soothing breath and went back to removing the monofilament thread. "Keeping on top of your pain with the short-term prescription, too, right?"

Hunter said nothing and just simply nodded; a lie. The last time he'd taken one of his last remaining doses was lunch, hours ago, the last of the nuna stew Wrecker had made. Echo's joking comment that the painkillers made him weepy led him to be more than a little hesitant to take them before they planned on finding an "excuse" to bring [____] by. He planned on finding a moment to discreetly take the now-tardy dose when she wasn't looking and just hoped for the best. Hope that this lie won't come back to bite him. 

Hope that he'll be brave enough tonight… tell her the truth, no more lies. No more avoidance.

“Hey-” [____]’s voice cut in softly, catching his hand wandering closer to the two-day-old injury, “no scratching, silly. I’m not afraid to wrap your hand in gauze so you can’t touch yoursel- oh Maker, that sounded- Nevermind!” Both stubbornly pretended their faces weren’t burning with embarrassment for different reasons, faces mere inches away at times as she carefully cut and removed segments of the stitching, being sure not to tug on the regenerating skin too harshly.

And neither called any attention to how they went from her holding Hunter’s hand down and away from his shoulder to interlocked fingers by the time she’d extracted the last bit of medical-grade thread.

Omega was waiting for them at the end of the hall, hands behind her back with a barely contained grin. She clearly had something for them at first glance as the door opened. "[____] needs a party hat! Hunter too!" Omega declared emphatically, rocking excitedly on the balls of her feet as Hunter and the medic returned from the back bedroom and rejoined everyone in the central area, fresh medical wrapping with a marbling pattern in a blue color-scheme peeking under the collar of the shirt he wore. 

They were the only ones not wearing hats made of thick cardstock and carefully cut ribbons of glitter-foil somewhere on their body. Echo was wearing his blue party hat on his right shoulder, the galaxy's pointiest (and most sparkly) pauldron. Wrecker's orange hat was fixed at a playful angle on his head, and Tech's yellow and Crosshair's purple party hats were perfectly upright on their own heads. 

In Omega's hands there were three remaining party hats. [____] could tell there was a hat Omega likely had in mind for her. "Oh do I, now? Whatcha got for me little lady?" Brighter than the twin stars over Tatooine, Omega grinned before singling out the party hat covered in all of the colors of the light spectrum from end to end in glitter-foil. She motioned for [____] to bend forward so Omega could easily affix the handmade hat to the head of the medic with an elastic strap, effectively crowning her with the rainbow cone. "This one's for you! Which one do you want, Hunter?" 

The last hats available were green and red. It was to the medic's slight surprise that Hunter requested the green party hat over the red, and that Crosshair was quick to step in behind Hunter and help him comfortably adjust it so Hunter didn't upset the fresh wrapping over his left shoulder by trying to reach over his head. "Thanks, Cross…" 

There was a firm squeeze around the right shoulder. "Don't mention it. I'll go get the drinks now. Really get this party kicked off." Crosshair ducked into the kitchen unit and could be heard rooting through several shelves in various cabinets, calling out to one of his brothers after a long, contemplative pause. "What did they call these things again at that one place we tried after getting the ban from 79's?"  

"Oh-oh, don't forget the kid's favorite stuff in the cold unit too!" Wrecker called back, drawing out a peal of giggles from his sister after sweeping Omega in the air with one arm. "We picked up a lot of your favorite drinks tha’ ya typically would have to get imported for your party; all the stuff for mocktails too!" All the fun, creative flavors without the hassle of a hangover the following morning for anyone, and nothing was anything Omega would have been excluded to due to alcoholic content.

[____] smiled at the thoughtfulness and attention to detail that was so evident all around her. "Awh, you guys are too sweet..." Far sweeter than she would have ever guessed nearly a year ago. 

Tonight was gonna be a good night.

"Cross, you're not reaching high enough!" Echo called out in a singsong tone, face lit up in a mischievous smile. "Little higher… no, to the left!"

They were trying their hand at a rendition of pin-the-tail-on-the-Bantha, everyone's sides aching as everyone did their best to subtly mess with one another by giving false directions to the person playing, or a deliberate handicap beyond the simple blindfold. [____] had gone first, and had been messed with the least for her first turn. Once Cross had completed his turn, she'd be taking the blindfold again, maybe even the defunct helmet the Batchers had found kicking around in Tech's half of his and Wrecker's bedroom.

It had no functioning audio sensors or modulator microphone that allowed the wearer to speak to anyone or hear very well, and the visor had been glazed over in fifteen different coats of a thick, black paint so you couldn't even see out of it. That's the deliberate handicap they had to use on Hunter due to his finely attuned sense of direction. Crosshair briefly lamented that they had no alcohol on hand just for Hunter to try to further confuse him beyond Wrecker carefully blindfolding, then spinning the current player in place fifteen times before aiming them at the wall.

Hunter had grumbled darkly about that joke before he put on the defective equipment, saying that the label on the prescription medication (which he'd secretly taken just minutes ago at the time of the remark) warned against the mixing of painkillers and spirits, so he wouldn't have done it. Crosshair only laughed and started repeating the directions for Hunter in a louder voice once the helmet was firmly in place.

Tech had explained to the medic, while he was fitting it over Hunter's head and holding onto the green party hat for his brother for the time being, that he was intending to make the helmet suitable for the episodic instances of sensory overload that would severely overwhelm Hunter, Crosshair, and on occasion himself. That's why, for the time being, Cross was assigned the chore of speaking loud enough for Hunter to hear the directions from everyone. (For Wrecker and Echo, Tech briefly lamented he'd have to rework separate non-standard helmets. And he expressed his earnest relief that this did not appear to be an issue Omega suffered from; he still planned to make one of these helmets for her as a precaution.)

Crosshair's dominant hand shot five inches above the play-space at his new set of instructions from the ARC trooper who was really enjoying his chance to screw with the often snarky vod. "No, wait Cross, liiiiittle too high!" [____] counteracted, she and Omega giggling together on the two-seater as Wrecker gave a thirty second warning. The hand dropped three inches and the tail was tacked to the wall so he could complete his turn to remove the blindfold and inspect his attempt.

He was roughly two inches off-target. Wrecker was careful as he gave the sniper's shoulder a good-natured slugging and congratulated him on his attempt. "Hah, not bad! Got pretty close, Cross!"

"Indeed," Tech chuckled agreeably, scratching down the results in the scoring chart that came with the game, "that attempt is now tied for second-closest to the target with [____]'s first attempt after Omega's first." Somehow the female Clone had managed to get her tail just an inch and a half off target despite how unsteady she'd been after being spun fifteen times. Both the medic and marksman had been two inches off target, followed up by Tech's two and a half, Hunter's three (and in the bantha's foot), then Echo's smack in the middle of the nose (too dizzy much like Omega, and got his left and right mixed up), and finally Wrecker's tail tacked very gingerly between the bantha's eyes. "[____], it's your turn again. Here is your next tail, and the helmet, if you are interested in giving it a try still. I can hold onto your party hat if you wish."

She carefully removed the cardstock hat from her head and smoothed down her hair before trading the helmet for the conical hat from the goggled Clone. "Thanks, Techie."

"Certainly, Miss Medic."

Echo, Wrecker and Crosshair snorted with barely contained laughter at the sight of Hunter's expression of blatant confusion, his eyes enormous in disbelief. Tech of all people calling someone something other than their preferred name - or designation number - was a real rarity, let alone being so cool about having one used on him in turn by someone who wasn't one of his brothers. "Wha-? Miss Medic? And since when has she started calling you by Wrecker's nickname for-"

"That is an explanation for another time," Tech cut in, pretending not to notice the deep dive of Hunter's eyebrows as they furrowed in frustration at having been interrupted. "Perhaps after she has completed her turn. Who would you like to relay instructions to you, [____]?"

She stalled for time to think about it for a moment by once again smoothing down her hair, adjusting her grip on the helmet experimentally. Crosshair had already proven he had a volume, a sweet spot in his silken voice that was good at giving commands and directions with an edge that drew one's attention. She'd gathered many, many hints of Echo's tactical expertise that made him another suitable candidate, but there was an impulse to satisfy some new curiosities of her's since the mystery mission just two days ago… What was Hunter's voice like when he was giving orders?

Would it be like she imagined; domineering and confident without being a touch too stern like other authoritative voices she's heard throughout her life? Would she still hear hints of that same golden, tender edge she's heard him use to soothe his brothers and promise them that they couldn't be in safer hands when he thought she couldn't hear him?

She was feeling strangely shy about asking, suddenly. "Uh, Hunter, I guess? If you don't mind… Just so we're not making your brother do it every time." she added with a careful, teasing lilt in her voice that she hoped would mask the quickened pace of her heart if she could bring Crosshair into it. Crosshair just chuckled and snatched his drink along with her's to go top them off, most likely. "Don't mind at all." Hunter promised. "I'll do my best to be loud enough to hear."

With an affirming nod that it was settled and she was good to go, Wrecker carefully slipped the helmet down her head and once sure she was tucked in, spun her in place fifteen times by her shoulders, a steady hand on her at all times so she didn't lose her balance. Things were well and truly muffled outside of the helmet; the regular, steady dance of her breath was the only thing she could clearly hear inside the cranial cavity of the plastoid bell.

"Can you hear me, ad'ika?" Hunter sounded very faraway with her head submerged in this malfunctioning helmet. It would certainly serve the brothers well if they needed this darkened pocket of sensory deprivation. [____] nodded and stretched her arm out to the wall, hovered somewhere in front of that poster of a bantha to show she was ready, knowing her own voice would be too dampened within the helmet the same way their voices were outside of it.

His voice sounded deeper when he gave the next directive, finding his sweet spot, "Little to your left." There was a muted rumble of speech around her after she slowly swung her hand in the appropriate direction, trying to keep it the same height for the time being. “Too high.” Hunter suggested. “Go a little lower.” It was repeated again, the third word stressed this time. There seemed to be a murmur of praise behind her after she made the minor adjustment, hand falling just a smidgen. “... Crosshair says you need to go right. Just a little.” She briefly knocked elbows with Wrecker as she followed the suggestion, sparking a surprised jolt that knocked her arm slightly out of place and subsequent apology from the gentle giant that she could hear with far more clarity due to his proximity.

“Whoops, sorry kid!” He gingerly guided her back to her previous trajectory and once all were satisfied she was back on track, Hunter was back to instructing her where to go, those deep, warm and smokey timbres all the medic had to go on with the added challenge of the helmet that made it harder to hear the room around her.

“Slight climb up…” She slowly floated her hand up the poster before coming to a stop when there was a jump in the noise. “Stop there!” Moving her hand straight out in front of her, she planted the game piece into the poster and shucked the helmet to see how she did.

The cardstock bantha tail was perfectly in place on the poster.

“Ya got it, kid!” Wrecker whooped, giving [____] a celebratory hoist in the collective excitement. Once she was back on solid ground, Tech returned the party hat and congratulated the medic on her accuracy. “Well done, [____]. You started out surprisingly close to the target,” he demonstrated by lightly tapping the area of the poster where she had initially reached forward after being spun, “and with how well you interpreted Hunter’s guidance, it only took you a total of fifteen seconds to successfully pin the tail on this rendition of a bantha with… several creative liberties.” Everyone chuckled, all in agreement that this poster must be geared for slightly younger audiences given the cartoonish quality to the art style when it had been hung on the wall earlier when they were first getting ready to play the first of many games Crosshair and Omega had thought to gather when picking up the decorations and gifts from each brother the other day.

“It’ll be hard to beat a dead win,” Crosshair hummed pleasantly, handing her the drink he’d kindly refilled once she resituated the hat, “so whaddya say we give another game a try, doc? Entirely up to you.”

She took a light swig of the mocktail with a little smile, head turned to the game. Echo and Wrecker’s game pieces in particular caught her eyes, “Night’s still plenty young, Cross. Think there’s time for everyone to have a second shot at this, uh, “cute” lil’ bantha, y’know?” His sharp eyes caught the same two tails and mirrored that same casual, friendly shrug with a devil may care smile. “Alright Tech, that means you’re up next. Don’t worry, I won’t mess up your precious little scorecard.”

Tech could only direct a look of mild complaint at his brother before slipping his goggles over his head and surrendering them to Echo with a troubled sigh. “That’s not comforting…”

“I’ll watch him!” Omega’s promise was interrupted with a burst of giggles before she could climb out of her half of the two-seater and convince Hunter to trade places with her, leaning into the pretense of the “little sister charm” to sweeten Hunter to the idea of the swap. “[____]’s finished with her turn now, so you can ask her about the Miss Medic nickname she’s gotten while Tech has his turn.” That seemed to settle it for Hunter, the hesitancy to the idea of seat-swapping for “no reason” gone and forgotten in an instant when replaced with curiosity at the reminder of the earlier offer.

They offered each other timid little smiles as Hunter took Omega’s previous place next to [____] on the piece of furniture that encouraged a greater sense of sharing the same surface than the spacious sofa that had been pushed against another wall for the time being; the simple, undeniable fact of being nearly elbow-to-elbow felt more intimate to them both.

After a beat of silence to allow Tech to start his round on the best foot, she returned the smile that Hunter silently prayed to the Maker didn’t look nervous.

“So, uh… where’d “Miss Medic” from Tech come from?”

“Heh…” [____] chuckled softly, quickly considering how much detail she’d include, “Not all that long or interesting a story, honestly, but if you really wanna know… It originally started because Wrecker accidentally used “Techie” instead of Tech when he wasn’t around; that was while Tech was piloting my medical ship back to the planet. Then I accidentally let it slip that I knew about the nickname when the two of them swung by my clinic at lunch to get more medical supplies after they’d heard my last patient before closing for lunch-rush call and referred to me as “Miss Medic”, several times, I’m sure...”

As the two of them shared a little laugh together, Hunter surmising that Tech had been fine with the medic knowing such a silly little nickname because he could now give her one of her own in kind, each of them easily missed the conspiratorial smiles on the other side of the room.

Things seemed promising from this vantage point.

“So far so good.” Echo muttered under his breath with a knowing toss of his head to the marksman, easily playing off the overheard remark as encouragement meant for Tech. “That’s definitely looking like a step in the right direction…”

Taglist: @dragonrider9905  @ladytano420  @the-hexfiles @ilovethosebrowneyes9904​

Note from Frost: Hope you’re all ready for a real long one next time! If you would like to be added to the taglist that is currently just specific for Sorry, Wrong Comms!, (I may start a taglist for all Star Wars related fanfiction projects that will be marked accordingly with #frostfics in the near future if there is interest) don’t hesitate to shoot me an ask or a comment loves. 🩷 

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[outsders]

іᥒ𝗍r᥆ძᥙᥴ𝗍і᥆ᥒ ⍴᥆s𝗍

she/they/it ◞ sixteen ◞ dutch ◞ INTP-T

pansexual + aromantic/fictoromantic ◞ asd

main / yume blog : @ aftongf ( if I follow you / interact it's with this account .ᐟ )

ᥕіᥣᥣ ᥲᥒძ ᥕ᥆ᥒ'𝗍 ��rі𝗍ᥱ

will write :

gender neutral & fem reader

wlw/gl & m/f4a

chubby / plus size reader

autistic reader

fluff , crack & angst

scenarios , drabbles , oneshots

etc. might add more

won't write :

male reader & mlm/bl

smut / nsfw

cheating / infidelity themes

oc's or character x character

anything else im uncomfy with I will lyk

requests are always open ,, unless stated so here otherwise. I will get to them asap ꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱

𝖿ᥲᥒძ᥆ms і ᥕrі𝗍ᥱ 𝖿᥆r

Five Night's At Freddy's :

Glamrock Freddy

Glamrock Chica

Roxanne Wolf

Montgomery Gator

Sundrop / Moondrop

William Afton (movie William)

Michael Afton (Mike Schmidt)

Vanessa / Vanny (Vanessa Shelly)

Carlton Burke

Charlotte Emily

Jessica

Glamrock Bonnie

Gregory (platonic ONLY)

Cassie (platonic ONLY)

Stray :

Momo

Doc

Clementine

Zbaltazar

Jacob

Seamus

Obey me! One master to rule them all :

Lucifer

Mammon

Leviathan

Satan

Asmodeus

Beelzebub

Belphegor

Diavolo

Luke (platonic ONLY)

Thirteen

Solomon

DC Universe :

Edward Nashton

Harley Quinn

Poison Ivy

Barbara Kean

Jerome Valeska

Jeremiah Valeska

My Hero Academia :

Katsuki Bakugou

Izuku Midoriya

Tamaki Amajiki

Kirishima Eijirou

Denki Kaminari

Ochaco Uraraka

Toga Himiko

Mina Ashido

Sally Face :

Sal Fisher

Larry Johnson

Ashley Campbell

+ possibly other characters / fandoms soon !

[biribaa]

Stray

Bunch of Momo x human!reader headcanons

This Diary Is Not Yours(Yandere!Doc x Reader)

Momo conforting reader

Guardian x Trans Male!Reader

MORE Momo x reader angst (you two broke up but got back together)

Clementine x ftm!Human! Reader headcanons

Momo x human!Reader relationship headcanons

Guardian x Companion!Reader who likes stars

Blindfolded panic(Yandere!Blazer x reader)

Blazer and Peacemaker x reader headcanons

Yandere!Outsiders x reader headcanons(200 followers special)

Momo x Flirty!Female!Reader

General and x reader headcanons with Guardian

Yandere!Outsiders in a poly relationship with human!Reader

Amen!(Yandere!Momo x Deity!Reader)

Ordem paranormal

Telopsia x leitorx headcanons

Amigo imaginário x leitorx

Estrangeiro x leitorx com a personalidade do Anfitrião

Enpap-X com um leitorx muito paciente e calmx

Um Primeiro Sabor do Céu(Anjo x leitorx)

Ocioso com um leitorx que adora contato físico

Inscryption

P03 x reader headcanons

Yandere!Archivist x reader

Pinocchio Guillermo Del Toro

Sebastian J. Cricket x reader headcanons

The Mitchells vs The Machines

PAL x reader headcanons

PAL x reader oneshot

Brawl Stars

8-bit x reader headcanons

DHMIS

Yandere!Collin x reader headcanons

Yandere!Electracey x reader headcanons

Electric Dreams

Yandere!Edgar x reader headcanons

Edgar x reader headcanons

You know what? I believe a lot of AIs would love to have an S/O who is a artist

Spending Valentine's Day With Your Computer Boyfriend!!1!!1[Free][No virus!!](Edgar x reader oneshot)

IHNMAIMS

You know what? I believe a lot of AIs would love to have an S/O who is an artist

AM cuddles with u but hes a barstard

AM x reader hcs

2001: A Space Odyssey

You know what? I believe a lot of AIs would love to have an S/o who is an artist

Wishing your AI boyfriend a happy birthday :)

Tau

You know what? I believe a lot of AIs would love to have an S/O who is an artist

Will you Snail?

Squid x non-binary!Android! Reader

Testing(Squid x reader)

Illegal visit(Squid x reader)

Squid...But with a naive and extremaly calm reader

SCP foundation

You know what? I believe a lot of AIs would love to have an S/O who is an artist

079 x reader thoughts/drabble

Short scp-079 x reader oneshot

Scp-079 x reader headcanons

The Stanley Parable

Make a wish(Employee 432/Timekeeper x reader)

Superjail

Jailbot x reader oneshot

Moon

Gerty x reader dancing oneshot

The Brave Little Toaster

Toaster and reader on a date hcs

War Games

WOPR/Joshua x reader hcs

Awful Hospital

CRASH x reader hcs

Parasite Days

Yandere!Watchio x reader hcs

Original characters

Fuzzy, soft, fluffly jacket(O7/Female robot x reader)

Yandere!O7/Female robot x reader

Olivia/O7 x reader headcanons and some lore

O7/Female robot x reader lil angst

(Implied yandere)O7/Female robot x reader

Olivia/O7 with a reader who has a child

(Pirate)Robot oc x Hacker!Reader

Olivia/O7 catching reader crying

Deity!Olivia/O7(?) x reader

Yandere!Olivia x reader hcs

Yandere!O7 x reader hcs

O7 reacting to reader being killed by one of the humans

Olivia x reader oneshot

Reader proposing to O7

Silly O7 x reader fic

Olivia/O7 x AI!Reader hcs

Tatche4 x reader hcs

Others(not x reader related)

Squid x Wheatley first kiss :)

AI/Robot christmas party

Probally missed something but it sucks to do this in a phone

Aprill fools

I'm so mature! (Yandere!Louis x reader)

[veiyx]

ALL OF FAVS - 5

[steam-junk]

I~ I want your love!

DNI + About Me

I'm Alucard, I'm a writer who writes both fanfiction and original work. I'm 15 years old, I use any pronouns, and I'm in wayyyy too many fandoms to count.

Non-writing posts over at @steam--junk with two dashes

Please DNI if you are:

Homophobic, transphobic, racist, etc.

A pedophile, "MAP," Zoophile, other associated terms. Even the "non-offending" ones.

Just here to spread hate

Here to give me shit about my age

More to be added ;)

I~ I want enough!

Requests - Closed

What I will write:

Fluff

Comfort

Angst

Headcanons

Oneshots

Scenarios

Slightly suggestive

Light gore

Violence

x reader

Gender neutral reader unless requested otherwise

Male reader if requested

Female reader if requested

Some mental illness, but only if I feel I understand and can respectfully portray it.

More to be added ;)

What I won't write:

Smut

Fetish

Romanticism/fetishism of dark topics

Heavy gore

Ship

More to be added ;)

If what you're requesting isn't listed, just send it in! No harm in trying! <3

I~ Want to be part of you!

Fandoms and characters I write:

Stray:

Momo

Doc

Zbaltazar

Clementine

Seamus

Guardian

Blazer

Rise of the TMNT:

Donnatello

Raphael

Leonardo

Michaelangelo

Repo Mantis

Danganronpa THH:

All male characters except for Hifumi Yamada and Monokuma.

Ask about fem. characters. Sometimes I have a harder time writing them, but I will try!

Danganronpa GD:

All male characters except for Monokuma, Hajime Hinata, and Nekomaru Nidai.

Ask about fem. characters. Sometimes I have a harder time writing them, but I will try!

Genshin Impact:

All playable male characters

Dainsleif

Baizhu

Scaramouche

Teppei

Enjou

Dottore

Beidou

Xinyan

Yanfei

Yoimiya

Kokomi

Mona

Yelan

Ask about unlisted fem. characters. Sometimes I have a harder time writing them, but I will try!

Platonically:

Qiqi, Sayu, Klee, and Diona

Tales of Arcadia:

Jim

Douxie

Angor Rott

Krel

Glitch Techs:

Five

Mitch

Hazbin Hotel:

Alastor

Husk

Angel Dust

Sir Pentious

Helluva Boss:

Striker

Fizzarolli

Ozzie (Occasionally)

Blitzø

Stolas

Gravity Falls:

Bill Cipher

Ford Pines

Hellsing (Ultimate):

Pip Bernadotte

Alucard

Alexander Anderson

Tiān Guān Cì Fú/

Heaven Official's Blessing

Xie Lian

Hua Cheng

Fu Yao

Nan Feng

The Storm Crow

Caylus

Ericen

More to be added

I~ I want your love!

Playing: Haunt, the Cartoon Heart - Bear Ghost.

More coming soon.

[plethora-of-imagines]

For the ideas, doc x male reader and the reader-has-a-bakery trope? Sorry, I'm a sucker for it

You already has the order ready to go. Otto always showed up on Monday mornings for a coffee with a splash of cream and sugar packets to the side, and a muffin. He always claimed that he would just get the muffin but your delicious baked goods always convinced him otherwise.

As you patiently waited for Otto to arrive you got to work preparing more displays of baked goods. Muffins, croissants, pound cakes, and doughnuts. You debated about putting out the cupcakes but eventually decided they should wait until later in the day.

As morning rush subsided you sadly accepted that Otto wasn't coming... again. It was understandable after what had happened with the accident and then his recent string of robberies. He had probably forgotten all about you. You did your best to ignore the painful throb of your heart at that thought.

A soft voice interrupted your self pity.

"We weren't sure you would welcome us back."

Turning around you spotted Otto. A jacket thrown over his body, hiding the actuators he had enthusiastically talked about close to his body. The moment they sensed you looking the all swiveled to look at you. Threatening red ready to strike the moment you upset them.

You couldn't help the small gasp that escaped you. Otto looked disappointed at your reaction and your worry slipped out before you could think to stop it.

"Do they hurt?" You asked with only concern in your voice.

At your apparently implied acceptance of them the metal arms started to move. Darting out from their hiding spots. One picked up the cold coffee to bring to Otto's lips. Another tittered around you, seeming to evaluate you from all angles.

"That coffee's freezing by now, Otto!" You protested. "Let me make you a new one, please I insist."

You didn't brother to take no for an answer. Turning around to get started on some freash coffee.

Yelping at the sharp pinch to your arse.

"Otto!" You complained.

"Sorry, sorry," he raised his hands defensively. The actuators slowly moving to mimic him, like they didn't understand why they should be holding themselves up. "They tend to act on impulse. I haven't quite gotten through to them to wait for my guidance before acting on my every stray thought."

You laughed a little at his admission.

"Are you saying you've wanted to pinch my ass for a while now Otto?"

Teasing him was always fun. His cheeks got such a cute shade of pink.

"No comment," he murmured.

"What can I get you other than a piece of my ass, Otto?"

"Very funnny, Y/N. Now add a boston cream doughnut to my order."

Grabbing the donut you handed it off to Otto with a smile.

"I better be seeing you around again," you commented before letting go.

"Oh you certainly will."

He took a bite before he turned to leave. The cream dripping down his lips. It was your turn to blush at the vulgar display. He had done that on purpose, you were certain. Maybe he would show up ealier than next Monday, you could only hope.

(521 words)

[enbylovebird]

"don't you remember?"

hawks x gn!reader bullet fic.

tw: mentions of injury, memory loss.

(your quirk will be revealed, don't worry!)

the past few days have been... interesting

if a bystander were to narrate what's happened to you, it would be like everything has grinded to a screeching halt

one minute you were finishing up an assignment in a small café near your apartment, and the next, you were waking up in a hospital with a headache threatening to split your skull in half

to you, though, it doesn't feel like that. you can't remember what you were doing prior to being woken up by the harsh white lights of the hospital room.

you just... showed up here.

thankfully, you don't have to sit alone with no one to answer the hundreds of questions that are now knocking against your skull

there's two men at the door of your room. one of them has on what seems to be a white coat and a stethoscope and the other has... crimson wings.

his jacket looks warm and he's wearing headphones around his neck, and from where you're lying, his expression looks forced. forced into what specifically, you can't figure it out. but it's forced.

"um," you barely manage to hum. both men are at your side in a flash, their eyes wide with relief and concern. "where am i? what happened?"

the stethoscope man (doctor, your mind helpfully supplies) mutters something to the wing man (name unknown, your mind helps you again) and jogs out, leaving you upright with the man with wings.

"where is he going?" you ask. god, it feels like someone is taking a crack at your skull every time you speak.

the man with wings seems too overwhelmed to even speak. he's just scanning your face with teary eyes, his shoulders slowly rising to his ears. a watery smile shakes his lips, and you think, for just a second, that he's incredibly pretty.

his eyes are an amber... no, golden color, and they're trained on you and you alone.

you don't know why he's crying, though. over you, no less.

"are you okay?" you ask.

the pretty bird man lets out a shaky chuckle. "am i okay, they ask." he repeats your words. it's not mocking. he seems torn between laughing and crying, but before you can pin down what he's going to do, he grabs your hand and leans forward, resting his head on the bed.

his wings are folded against his back, but you swear you see the feathers individually relax. "you have no idea how fucking worried i was, pretty bird." his voice is muffled by the sheets, but you hear him clearly.

"pretty bird?" you voice your thoughts. if anything, he's the pretty bird here. you don't say that part.

there's a heavy silence before you feel a warmth entering your body. it's coming from where the two of you are connected by your hands. you're not sure how or why, but you feel tears start to build in your eyes as well. you let out a broken sob against your will.

confused and scared, you wrench your hand out of his grip, the two of you now upright and staring at each other with wild and hurt expressions. the pain in your head is threatening to make you black out.

"y/n?" the bird man calls, his feathery eyebrows knit together. "what's--?"

a million questions are running through your head, but only one manages to slip past your lips.

"who's y/n?"

at that moment, the doctor returns with a few nurses. they sort of push the bird man out the way with their doting over you, but you comply. they inject you with something and it makes the headache subside enough for you to relax your shoulders.

it's a crazy few minutes, but once the other doctors leave, it's just you and the two men from before left.

and boy, does he drop some news. (at least you figure by the bird man's reaction. you're just going through the motions here.)

"the villain in the attack had a memory wipe quirk." the bird man recounts easily. "at least that's what the heroes on the scene told me."

"and they were right. that particular person can wipe select memories from people they target. if you're caught in the crossfire though, there's no telling how much you could forget." the doctor looks at you then, his eyes sympathetic. "it would appear that y/n here was caught in that crossfire."

the bird man goes tense. you can see it. "so you're telling me that they--"

the doctor sighs. "y/n?"

you figure that he's talking to you. "is that what my name is? that's a pretty name." you muse. "but um... do you mind explaining who i am and why i'm here?"

you think that your question is innocent and well-placed, but the atmosphere says otherwise. the doctor turns away from you to look at the bird man.

"hawks, i understand that we are sworn to confidentiality with our patients, but i need you to tell me your relation to this person."

the bird man -- now designated as hawks -- looks between you and the doctor before leaning in and whispering the answer. you pout, wanting to know why exactly you couldn't head the answer.

the doctor seems shocked. "really? well, you have my word that no one will know. in any case, y/n here is actually fine. they were just hit with the stray attack. a few cuts because of broken glass, but nothing serious. they can actually go home in a day or two, but you need to take it slow with them. there's no telling what the memories could do to them. that is.. if they remember."

the "if" makes hawks clench his jaw. he looks at you, his expression unreadable. "thanks, doc." he seems to hesitate before sighing. "i'm actually going to go finish up some paperwork, so..." he doesn't take his eyes off you. "i'll be back. promise. see you in two days."

and just like that, you're alone again. you're alone with far more questions than answers.

the next two days are lonely, to say the least.

not all that lonely, you guess. nurses come in and even a hero nurse as well. she explains your quirk -- empathy.

through physical contact, you can feel the emotions of whomever you choose. you can also share what you feel with the person you touch. you suddenly remember when hawks held your hand. you may not have it under control, but at least you know what it is.

the day of your discharge comes, and hawks looks to be dreading this moment. like he's grappling with something. you figure that he's a hero and he must be antsy to get back to work. you offer him a reassuring smile when he shows up.

"if you're worried about me being in pain, trust me, the bandages are nothing, okay?" you try to cheer him up. it clearly doesn't work. he gives you a tight smile.

hawks doesn't say anything the entire way home.

he actually doesn't say much for days. it's mostly just strange looks and clenched jaws. he always avoids touching you.

you two don't live together, but as you spend time at home piecing together your memories, you notice that there's a lot of indication that you have a male partner.

you find big t-shirts and hoodies that personally don't ring a bell, but smell way too familiar. you find shampoo, conditioner and body soap that clearly don't belong to you, and even a jacket that looks a lot like--

after the second week of the silent treatment from hawks, you call him, clearly fed up.

he shows up in no time at all, as you expected. after doing some research, you learn that he's the number two pro hero. he's one of the fastest people in the world if he tries hard enough. him showing up at your apartment within minutes of contacting him wasn't surprising.

"you called?" he says as he lands on your balcony. the first words he's spoken to you since you were discharged. "is everything okay?"

you dump everything you found at his feet. you know you don't talk to any other men, and he's literally the only person you can think of. "what's this?" you ask.

you aren't sure why, but you're rather pissed.

hawks raises a brow at all of his stuff now at his feet. "why are you doing this?" he asks in response. he picks it up with a few feathers and guides everything back to their places. "what're you dumping your stuff on the floor for?"

"it's not my stuff! that's the problem! it's yours!"

you bring a hand to your head. "why are you everywhere? why are you so important to me? why won't you tell me anything?"

hawks just watches as you practically have a meltdown. you start to breathe heavily, but rather than say anything, he just extends a hand. you know what physical contact does, and you just look at him.

"just... touch me, y/n. activate your quirk." he has that serious look in his eye and a sad smile on his face.

you do as he says, and what you feel makes you recoil.

you feel... everything. you feel the late nights, the nausea that kept you up at night as you waited for hawks to come home. you felt the lazy sundays when you two would sing old classics and make breakfast. you felt the christmases you spent together, flying high in the chilly hair. you felt the fights, the kisses, the fleeting touches. you felt the infatuation, the love.

you look at hawks -- no, keigo -- wildly.

"what... what was that?" you ask breathlessly. "keigo, you--"

at the sound of his name, keigo just pulls you close to his chest. his feathers are shaking, and so are his shoulders.

"don't you remember?" he says after a minute. "tell me you remember, songbird. tell me you remember something -- anything."

you do. oh, you do. but it's so much to process.

"we clearly have some catching up to do, huh?" you mutter.

a dry chuckle. "yeah. yeah, we do."

you pull away from keigo, looking him in his now red eyes. ah, there he is, you think. there's the man you fell in love with.

"well, hi." you extend a hand. "my name is y/n. and yours?"

keigo sniffs and gives you a crooked grin. "the name's takami keigo, but you probably know me as hawks." he shakes your hand gently, his grin softening as he sees the way you can clearly feel his emotions. "don't tell anybody that though, please."

"your secret's safe with me, keigo."

[taeyohonic]

Zero Percent

Summary: There is a zero percent chance the Park Jimin likes you, right?

Pairing: Jimin x fem!Reader

Genre: College AU, Golden Boy!Jimin, Actor!Jimin, Group Project Hell

Warnings: swearwords, one scene where the reader gets groped without consent (obviously not by Jimin)

Words: 5k

Monday – 9:47 am – PoliSci lecture

Everybody likes Park Jimin. Not only is he the star of the drama department – making the Dean cry with his performance as Hamlet during freshmen year. No, he is also the head of the Environmental Club and part of the most elusive fraternities on campus.

Park Jimin is kind, smart and handsome. The guy is constantly surrounded by fellow frat brothers, drooling girls and you even heard a story about a stray kitten following Jimin around, resulting in him adopting the little cat.

So, you aren’t really surprised when he doesn’t remember you – you only share two classes and one lecture with him. It does sting a bit, though.

“And you are?”, the golden star asks, looking at you with friendly distance in his eyes.

“_______”, you answer.

It follows an awkward silence – all four of you staring at each other with unease. There is no greater hell than group projects. You’ve got no friends, or even acquaintances, in this course. It isn’t like you are a recluse. You just have a very small circle of friends. And you don’t have any desire to change that.

“Well”, Jimin begins and unlocks his iPhone, “let’s start with a shared google docs.” Now he hands his device over to the girl with thick rimmed glasses. She looks like murder and you are woman enough to admit you’re a bit afraid of her. She does start your 8 am lecture with an energy drink and cold pizza. every. single. week.

“We could meet up before class next week to divide the parts among us?”, the guy to your right offers and you haven’t ever heard him speak before. He usually just sits in class and doodles in his sketchbooks. The red one he is resting on right now is the third book you’ve seen him use in the last month.

Your eyes widen as his words reach your tired brain. Meeting up before class? Before 8 am?

The girl gives you Jimin’s phone and you add your contacts half-minded. There is not even a single crack on his screen. Is this guy even real?

“How about after class?”, Jimin suggests instead and winks at you. You nearly drop his phone when you see his left eye closing in mischief. Did Jimin really just wink at you?

“Nah, I’m packed till practice”, the guy answers and takes the iPhone out of your hands.

“What about this weekend?”, the girl asks and opens her calendar.

“I could manage Sunday afternoon”, Jimin says and stores his phone back in his jeans. His way too tight jeans. The jeans you’ve been staring at all through lunch today. He was wrestling for … uhm… fun with one of his brothers – Jungkook you think – and his ass was just… very present pressed against the denim.

“Sounds good”, the sketch guy says and the girl nods in agreement. Now all of them look at you; the person that did in fact have plans for Sunday. But you doubt they’d be very understanding of your self-care day off from the week.

“Yeah, sure”, you agree reluctantly and fish out your own smartphone, an old grandfather of Jimin’s model with many cracks littering the screen. Without looking up, you delete the do not disturb block in your calendar and create a new appointment: group project politics.

“We can meet up at the PoliSci library; I’ll get us a study room”, Jimin says and stands up – his tights directly in your eyesight. There is a hint of blush on your cheeks as you pack your things together yourself.

“Great”, the other guy cheers – way too enthusiastic – and departs from your group. His sketchbook is raised as he waves at you. You turn around to the others and they are both gone too. Well, what did you expect from a group assignment worth 15% of your grade with random people? Did you see Jimin’s back as he exited the lecture room? Maybe. And did your eyes lay a bit longer on his butt? It’d be a crime if they didn’t.

**

Wednesday – 10:03 pm – dorm room

“No way!”, your roommate shouts, her voice a shrill pain in your head. “Not the Park” You just nod, your late-night ramen hot on your tongue.

“How did you manage that?”, she asks and nibs on some seaweed crackers.

“Random assignment”, you mutter as you swallow down your food.

“You lucky, lucky bitch!” She throws one half-eaten cracker in your face.

“It’s a group project, not a blind date, Jisoo.”

There is a zero percent chance that the Park Jimin is even slightly interested in you. But then you remember his wink and you up your chances to three percent.

“Let’s get some beer to celebrate!”, your roommate suggests and totally ignores your unenthusiastic posture. The day was long – after working a shift at the kiosk on campus.

“I’m tired”, you whine, but your body moves as you get dragged to your feet by Jisoo. “My noodles”, you cry. She just rolls her eyes and pushes the warm cup into your hands. “Eat them on the way.”

You grumble the whole walk to the kiosk you worked just a few hours ago. There are so much more options to get two cans of beer at 10 pm on a Wednesday, but you do get a 5% employee discount – plus the 20% for being a student.

“Do you think he’ll invite you to the fancy parties?”, Jisoo wonders and swings your entwined hands between you. Your other hand holds your food – you want to save the rest up for drinking.

“Before or after I bear his heir?” Jimin’s fraternity is legendary for its exclusive parties. In contrast to most frats, theirs is known for the tight circle of invites. These events had a hand-picked guestlist, no cheap alcohol in sight. There were even rumors that Jimin makes all partygoers use reusable cups to reduce plastic trash. You do remember reading about this in one of the columns of your university paper.

“You’ll be fat after birth, so preferably before”, she reasons. You nod – true.

“I ain’t see any fat”, a male voice slurs and then you feel hands on your butt. You turn around, recognizing a squeeze before the hand leaves your body. As you see the guy who touched you, you feel fear setting in your bones. There are three of them and they do look very drunk. The darkened ally is not the most favorable spot to meet jerks. You can see the light from your store coming up ahead, but it’s late and deserted and they touched you.

“HEY”, Jisoo shouts and moves in front of your body. “NO TOUCHING WITHOUT CONCENT!”

His two friends are shocked by her loud outbreak and take a step back, but the toucher is still standing his ground. “Yo, be chill, bitch”, he says. Oh, he did not. Before you can even think about it, your arm moves on its own account. The lukewarm soup and the noodles splash in his face, coating his shirt and dripping on the cement. The guy’s eyes widen in surprise, but then they light up with anger. Shit. “Shit”, Jisoo whispers out loud.

And then Park Jimin is there, pushing in front of you. He creates a human wall between you and the three guys. His body heaves as he breathes in fast intervals. He must have run after he heard Jisoo’s shouting.

“Back off”, the golden boy says with a calm voice. His blond hair is so close, you are sure you can smell his eucalyptus shampoo.

“Hey man, this is between me and these two bitches”, the other guy answers, insulting you again.

“You’ve got a minute till my brothers catch up”, Jimin states. “Go. Now.”

Maybe the guy was too far gone, alcohol clouding his judgment, but he needs his two buddies nearly dragging him away from you. They whisper in his ears, half bowing to Jimin. “So sorry, man”, one of them says, clearly having recognized the star student even in the dark.

Jimin doesn’t react. Instead, he turns around to you and you get to look at his angered face. “Why are you two out here? Alone? In the middle of the night? Where is your rape whistle? Hm?”, he asks. You just watch him with surprised eyes.

“Hmm?”, he questions again, stepping closer to you. Jisoo stares silently at Jimin. She has never spoken to him but has always been a strong advocate for watching his ass during lunch.

“Uhm”, you try to answer and swallow the fear from moments ago down. “We… we-were getting to the part?”

Jimin just scoffs in your face, clearly not impressed with your fumbled words. “What are you even doing out here at this time?”

You are slightly intimidated by his presence, so your finger shakes a bit as you point to the kiosk behind you. “We wanted beer.”

**

You have no idea how this happened. One second you were assaulted, then saved by Jimin. Now you’re sitting in front of the store, waiting for the guy to come back out. Jisoo is sitting next to you on the steps, her elbows on her knees. Then you hear the bell at the door and turn around to see Jimin juggling three beers under his right arm and a steaming cup of noodles in his left hand. He comes to a still before you and pushes the ramen in your hands. After that he places two bottles in front of your feet and crouches down facing you. Jimin’s face has cleared and he looks friendly enough.

“Thanks”, you whisper into your cup. Jisoo hums in agreement.

“I called one of my brothers. He’ll get the footage from one of the security cameras tomorrow”, he explains and twists his own beer open, taking a big swing.

“Why?”, you ask confused and blow at your noodles. Jimin’s eyebrows furrow.

“What do you mean why? So, we can write these bastards up”, he says, and you gasp in surprise, the noodles falling back into the cup.

“You’d… do that for us? Even though you haven’t even seen him… uhm… grabbing me?”, you question in wonder. Why would he go out on a limb for you?

Jimin just rolls his eyes at you. “Of course, I’d do that.”

He is halfway through his beer when Jisoo decides to participate in this semi silent semi one-sided conversation.

“What … were you – you know – doing out this late?”, she wants to know in the softest tone you’ve ever heard her speak in.

Jimin’s hand combs through his hair, the thick strands parted by his fingertips. “I was on a date”, he answers casually.

“On a Wednesday?” Maybe not your smartest contribution because both let out a chuckle.

“Some people date during the week”, Jisoo snorts.

“Some people do meth, Jisoo. Doesn’t mean these are good life choices. Wait – Jimin… did you leave your date to…”

“To rescue two girls from danger? Yeah.”, he finishes for you and dusts invisible dirt from his shoulders. You roll your eyes at his puffed chest and eat another bite of your food.

“Nah, I’m just messing with you”, he laughs, “I was just on my way back from dropping her off at thes dorms.”

After that, there is an awkward silence. The three of you aren’t friends – there is no connection, common interest or shared anecdotes between you. Well, apart from your group project and his unborn son. Before you can start to ramble about the specifics of the – still empty – google docs he linked you in two days ago, his cell starts vibrating.

“Yeah?”, Jimin answers absently and collects your empty bottles to dispose them into the recycling bin. His conversation is muffled at best and you look at your roommate. Again, you hear the bell ring as your coworker Jaehyung closes the door and locks the store.

He smiles down at you. “Why didn’t you come inside, ______?”, he asks in greetings and gives you a quick hug. You hold your ramen in a vice grip – you’ll not lose your second midnight snack again.

“Jimin insisted he didn’t need the 5% extra discount”, you shrug and Jaehyung looks at you funny.

“Jimin?”, he wonders and steals a bite of your noodles. Is there even a god?

“That’ll be me”, the man in question responds and locks his iPhone as he joins the extended group.

“Ah, man… I loved how you absolutely killed it last week on stage”, Jaehyung praises and pats the lead actor on the back. You couldn’t agree more. You’d been there with all the student employees from the kiosk. Jaehyung made it his mission to justify the outing as a bonding experience and teamwork task to your boss.

“This one even had tears in her eyes”, he whispers in mock secrecy and points in your face. Jimin looks at you with an unspoken question on his lips. The actor stops studying you and moves his eyes to look at your coworker, who stands very closed to your sitting figure.

“Glad you enjoyed it”, Jimin mumbles and spares a small smile. “I… really have to get to the frat soon”, he starts, “so, … I’ll better get you two to your room now.”

Jisoo stands up in a heartbeat, dragging you up as well. He’s going to walk you home?

“Nah, don’t worry, man. I’ve got this!”, Jaehyung answers. Jimin’s face is blank as he musters the scene in front of him.

“I’d really like to know that you got back okay”, he reasons and looks pointedly at your coworker.

“Their dorm is waaay out of your way, man. Just let me handle this… It’s the same direction for me anyway”, Jaehyung tries to reason and you see Jimin’s eyes flash in frustration.

Jisoo is just looking between both men, not really sure how to react. Has Jimin an ulterior motive to walk you back? Does he even want to walk you back? Is it more than just soothing his conscious?

Maybe your chances of the Park Jimin being interested in you just upped from three to fifteen percent.

“Sure”, Jimin reluctantly agrees to Jaehyung’s plan and faces you, his stare zeroing in on you.

“Write me when you get home?”, he demands more than asks and you can only nod dumbfounded.

“Just,… let me give you my number so you’ll be able to text me”, Jimin reasons and stretches his hand out to get your phone. You look at him in confusion – you exchanged numbers two days ago during class. He was the one messaging all of you.  

“I… uhm… have your number”, you tell him. His eyes widen in surprise.

“Since when?”, the campus star asks and musters you in suspicion. Your face colors instantly, a deep red tone on your cheeks, as you realize that Jimin doesn’t remember you’re in his group assignment. He… doesn’t even recognize you. You feel so embarrassed, more so when Jisoo, too, sucks in her breathe.

“Uhm”, this is… very humiliating, “we’re i- in the same.. group for our PoliSci class.”

There is a beat of silence as you see even Jimin’s cheeks dusted with a hint of red.

“Ah, right, sorry”, he says and massages his neck uncomfortably. “I didn’t recognize you without your glasses.” Kill me now.

You just laugh and swallow down the bitter taste in your mouth while moving closer to your friend. Now, he thinks you’re the murderer? There is no mercy for your pride here.

“Let’s get going, ______”, Jisoo says, way too chipper and links your arms as she pulls you away from this disaster. “Thanks again, Jimin-ssi.”

“Yeah”, you agree and bow in front of him to cover the humiliation painted across your face.

Jimin bites on his bottom lip, all too tempted to reply, but settles for a swift nod.

Then the three of you walk away and ss soon as he is out earshot, Jaehyung looks at you.

“I have never seen you wearing glasses, ______”

Well, maybe your predictions were a bit off, maybe your chances with Jimin were no more than two percent.

**

Sunday – 4:32 pm – PoliSci library

“Should we… just start?”, you ask as Jimin fiddles with his tablet. You’re both seated in one of the small study rooms of your library. There is a half-empty box of chocolates between you. Jimin presented them with a shrug – they were a present he got after his last performance, the sweets a gift from one of his fanclubs… yeah… plural.

Other than that, there is your old laptop in the desk, some of the books from your professor’s reading list spread around the table, and an empty water bottle. What is not here, is the rest of the group.

You don’t have their numbers, Jimin being the organizer out of the four of you. His is the only number that is saved in your phone and was used last Wednesday. There was a small part of you – hell, who are you kidding? – a big part of you, that didn’t want to text Jimin. After the embarrassment died down that night, you were really angry. How could he? He winked at you one day and then forgot he even knows you the next day?

You wanted him to be ashamed; having him franticly messaging the wrong girl in his group would have served him right. And judging by the sheer joy this girl is, he’d have gotten an earful calling her at midnight.

But then you didn’t want to imagine him realizing he had the wrong girl. No, you wanted to be present. So, you texted him briefly and rescheduled the reveal for this Sunday, when he’d see both of you. And now you two are alone. Perfect planning, ______.

“You texted them, right?”, you ask for the tenth time and Jimin nods, picking one more praline from the box.

“Yeah, and I also called while you were peeing”, Jimin answers and pops the dark chocolate in his mouth.

“Don’t say that word”, you say.

“What? Pee?”, he laughs, “Be happy I didn’t say piss.”

“Now you said it too”, you whine.

“What else am I supposed to say, _______?” Oh, the right name; nice.

“Going to the toilette? Stepping out for a second? Leaving the room?”, you list and grab a sweet. The air between you both isn’t exactly uncomfortable. You’ve licked your wounds over the rest of the week and can see your partner for what he is, an overachiever.

He has much on his plate, so many appointments and engagements, it’s no wonder he doesn’t remember one of the hundred of faces on campus. So, you decided to forgive him… to a certain degree. The degree being, that a.) he doesn’t even know there is an issue and b.) your big revenge fell down the drain with your female partner being a non-show.

For the last half hour, the two of you talked, mainly about organisatory stuff like due-dates and presentation formats. But then you pointed to the box of chocolates and you both strayed into more private matters. You complimented him – again – for his performance and Jimin expressed his relief that he received all-around glowing reviews. He even shared that there was a casting coach at one of the stage nights. The golden boy’s eyes lit up, as he talked about the offer to sign a contract with this coach, who was one of the most in-demands in his profession.

“We could just divide the parts evenly among us and pick the ones most to our liking”, your partner offers and shares his tablet with you.

“I doodled with a few topics last night… what do you think, _____?”, he asks, and you look at his notes. Of course, his doodles look like your versions of an exposé.

Why does he have so much resources to prep for this meeting when he can’t even filter your face?

“Yeah, the second theme looks… uhm quite promising”, you say and move to enlarge his mind map. You’re sure the first proposal is just as good, but there were a few words that you don’t even know how to pronounce.

The two of you work productively for the next half hour, separating some key elements of the theory and choosing your own parts. Jimin – being the one coming up with the whole topic – let’s you pick first. You try to decline but he is very adamant.

After you added all your points into the shared document, the both of you pack away your things and Jimin throws away the empty box of chocolates. So much for a healthy afternoon snack.

Jimin is just happily telling you he’ll sleep in tomorrow because your professor canceled your shared lecture. You can’t agree more – having moved your self-care day to tomorrow instead. You’ll skip your tutoring session in the evening, so the whole day is yours. A smile stretches across your face and you hear Jimin stumble on his words as he looks at you.

“There is a party at my frat today, if you wanne come?”, he offers and slings his backpack over his shoulders. Wait… what?

“A Bangtan Party?”, you whisper-shout and look at him – the smile frozen on your lips.

Jimin looks a bit embarrassed as he sees your excitement.

“Yeah… I could set you on the guestlist?”, he say, a bit unsure. Your brain is working overtime. The Park Jimin wants you at his party? The girl he couldn’t even remember a few days ago? A mere group project fail?

“Really?”, you ask as you feel anticipation cursing through your veins.

“Really.” Jimin’s eyes are nearly closed, a bright smile pushing his cheeks up.

Maybe… Maybe your chances of the Park Jimin being interested in you are higher than you thought, now that he knows who you are. You’ll give yourself solid 20 percent. This party is one of the most exclusive affairs on campus, why else invite you if there isn’t some interest at his end?

“Cool”, you say, “can I bring my roommate?”

Jimin nods and holds open the door, closing and locking it behind him.

“I’ll see you tonight then?”, he asks instead of saying goodbye and moves away from you. You see Jungkook… and is that Namjoon?... waiting two aisles behind you, talking to each other in hushed voices. You wave at Jimin in affirmation and turn around.  

**

“Don’t you think this is way too short?”, you ask – your insecurity slipping right out as you brush over the fabric of your dark red metallic skirt. Jisoo and you have been getting ready for the last few hours, which entailed not only some very hairspray-intense styling but also a tree diagram being constructed on the back of your pre-game nachos. Your roommate collected and rated every clue you gave her regarding the Park Jimin mystery – of course only after she squealed for a good minute.

“No touching my stuff”, Jisoo scolds and knocks away your fidgeting hands. She added ten percent to your prediction because she upvoted him rescuing you – and staring at Jaehyung in frustration – way higher than his misjudgment of forgetting your name and face. Even thought you pointed out that Jimin was on a date clearly indicating he maybe isn’t even emotional available.

“Your stuff is on my body, though”, you argue as both of you walk to the frat house. Their house isn’t that far off campus but it still is a 20 minute walk. You’ve got your pepper spray with you this time even if you left your rape whistle at home. There are few students out this evening, tomorrow being Monday making most of them stay in tonight. Before you can take the last turn do that their house comes into view, there is a person calling your name from behind.

You look and see the sketchbook guy from your group project jogging towards you. Jisoo looks at you questionably, not recognizing him. There is suppressed anger on your face and you try really hard not to be too mean to the person who left you and Jimin waiting today.

“Yeah?”, you ask and look at the slightly out of breath guy now in front of you. He’s got a gym bag over his shoulders, his running shoes still on his feet.

“Good workout today?”, you add with slight sarcasm in your voice. There seems to be a slight issue in translation because he just smiles wider at you as he gives you a small bow.

“Thanks to you, of course”, he answers, and you are this close to hitting a person today.

“What?”, you hiss and try to control your anger. This useless excuse of a PoliSci major will not lower your standards. Now the guy looks at you with a puzzled expression on his face – clearly not expecting you to me so hostile.

“You know? Yo- you and Jimin offering to do the selecting and dividing by yourselves really helped me out today.” Come again?

“What?”, you repeat this time without venom in your voice. His face moves to the side as he musters you carefully.

“Uhm… Jimin called on Thursday… telling us not to bother coming on Sunday”, he explains slowly as if you’re the dumb one. Jimin did what?

“What?”, you ask for a third time and now he and Jisoo look at you with worry.

“He.. he.. I mean Jimin – he mentioned that you two were totally fine with doing it alone… Mina and I offered to finalize and proofread the presentation in return”, he continues and you are just confused. So, so confused.

Why would Jimin lie to them – and to you?

“Ehm.. I’m sorry…”, you look at him sheepishly. He seems to understand and adds “Wobin”.

“Yeah, right… Wobin… this is a huge misunderstanding … let me – uhm talk to Jimin”, you say, the confusion slowing down your word flow.

Wobin looks at Jisoo in question and she just shrugs. “You’re staying with her?”, he asks her and she nods. “We haven’t had that much to drink… I think she just needs a minute. Thanks tough, Wobin”, Jisoo calmly states and your partner leaves with an uncertain wave.

“_______?”, another voice joins – because why not make it a whole convention here on the sidewalk literarily five minutes away from your destination. You turn to the male voice and see non other than Jungkook walking towards you with hurried steps.

“Hmm?”, you answer, still reeling from the confession mere minutes ago.

“What are you doing out here alone by yourselves?”, he questions as he catches up. Jisoo is frozen next to you – even tough Jimin is without question the hottest guy at your university, Jungkook is by far the most dangerous. Combined, they are lethal.

“We were just on our way to your house”, you offer and point in the direction of the frat.

“Yeah, I get that”, he says, “but why are you out here alone?”

“You can see Jisoo, right?”, you ask, not sure of anything tonight and look at your roommate.

Jungkook scoffs and shakes his head – clearly not impressed.

“After last Wednesday you’re still walking around alone at night?”, he wants to know. Last Wednesday? Wait how does he know about that?

“Who told you?”

Now Jungkook looks as worried as Wobin before. “Jiminie told me? Hadn’t I stayed longer at practice I would have been with him when he found you.”

“Practice?”, you ask.

“Yeah,… we’re preparing a inprov show to celebrate the anniversary of the drama department, you know?”, he explains and adds after he sees your expression: “Hasn’t Jimin mentioned anything?”

No, Jimin did in fact not mention he wasn’t actually leaving from a date but a late-night practice that day.

“He has been wreaking havoc since that night”, Jungkook shares. “Every brother had to sign up to cover a shift patrolling common paths during school nights.”

Now, he points at himself. “Today is my night so I’ll escort you to our mansion.”

Jisoo just looks at him like he grew a second head.

“You’re pepping for an improvisation show?”, she asks slowly as the three of you begin to walk.

This is the thing Jisoo has a problem with? Really? You feel your head spin while you try to make sense of the last two encounters.

Jimin didn’t go on a date last Wednesday. Jimin himself uninvited your partners from todays meeting. You shared chocolates with a liar.

“Wait… Jungkook?”, you ask not even looking at him. “Do you guys get a lot of gifts after your performances?” The student just laughs and shakes his head.

“Nah, we’re not allowed to anymore. The presents were getting out of hands. I mean… Seokjin-hyung even got a gold bar once, a fucking gold bar.”

You speed up your steps as you see the frat house in front of you, few people mingling around the entrance. There is a guy standing at the door and you’re trying to get your student ID out of the bag – your thoughts making your hands shake.

Jungkook comes up behind you and just shoves you inside, saluting the other guy with a cheeky grin. You don’t have much time taking in the décor, but you do notice how small the group of students are mingling around the living room. There is soft R&B playing from a stereo and you see the infamous reusable cups full of alcoholic mixtures.

And then you see Jimin, how ridged he is standing in front of the fireplace, bottled water in hand. His eyes zero in on you and the blooming smile quickly freezes when he notices your disheveled state. You step around some guys on the couch, making your way towards him. He places his water on the mantlepiece.

“______”, he greets you and you hear the tension in his voice. He knows, you know – maybe not how much, but Jungkook trailing behind you with a guilty look tells him that you know enough.

“Jimin”, you start, completely unsure which lie you should focus on, your brain jumping around in circles.

“______”, he whispers and takes a step closer to you.

“Jimin”, you try again to form a coherent sentence.

Before his lips meet yours in a shy confession, you think to yourself:

Maybe there is a 99 percent chance of Park Jimin being interested in you.

________

there is... no logical explanation for this story, other than me having war flashbacks while thinking about group projects at university. did you enjoy this oneshot? Please tell me if you find this Jimin as "perfect" as I did (apart from manipulating the OC). did/do you have similar experiences with group work? I always hated it. with a passion. thanks for reading and feel yourself hugged (if you want to) from, dana

[pixieminutes]

Adoration | HJS

genre: slight angst, fluff

members: han jisung x reader, lee minho, seo changbin, lee felix, bang chan, hwang hyunjin

warnings: drug use, cigarette use, swearing

Y/N의 일요일 [아침 9:00]

“y/n, could you go and get some more milk?” mina asked, looking in the fridge.

“we just got some though?” you said, going to your bedroom doorway.

the curtains in the living room had been opened by mina for her early morning yoga, letting the natural light stream through your apartment. the smell of your lemonbalm oil diffuser left your room and dispursed into the living room, mina smiling and following the smell with her nose.

“no i mean flavoured,” she said, “and while you’re at it could you pick us up some breakfast?”

“ready made pancakes?” you said, pulling on your shoes.

she clicked her fingers, winking at you, “you know it. call me immediately if anything happens!”

you hummed in response, taking in a deep breath as you left your apartment, looking around at the big open sky. it was light blue, a slight haze of white and yellow clouds strewn across the bottom, near where the sun was rising up.

“pancakes, check,” you mumbled, throwing the pancakes into the basket you picked up on the way in. making your way over to the fridge you smiled upon seeing all the flavours of milk, “aha! mina’s gonna be so happ—”

a hand reached in front of you and grabbed all of the bottles of strawberry milk. mina’s favourite.

“um, excuse me, you can’t just—“ you stopped as the boy turned around, “jisung?”

(Y/N와/과 지성의 일요일 [아침 9:16] ?)

“y/n,” jisung said, looking guiltily at all the bottles of milk in his arms before looking back to you, “i’m sorry.”

“why do you need that many?” you giggled.

“my roomate, hyunjin. he– he works his way through it,” jisung said, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly.

“oh,” you nodded, “well could i just have one? maybe? it’s for my roommate.”

“well there’s other milk,” jisung said, nodding to the fridge.

“yeah but,” you stopped, hesitating, “that’s her favourite.”

jisung sighed, “well, i don’t—”

“and why don’t you have a basket? you’re such an idiot sometimes,” you said, shaking your head as you took the pancakes out of your basket and put all of the bottles of milk that were in jisung’s arms into it, not without taking one first, of course.

jisung smiled at you slightly, watching as you got one of each flavour and walked over to the counter to pay.

you and jisung had met years ago, though the interaction was short. and ever since then, you’d run into the boy several times on several different occasions. the most recent: he’d saved you from a man who definitely had bad intentions.

though when most people looked at the two of you, they thought it was the most unlikely friendship. jisung with his long blonde hair, always wearing black clothes, tattoos up his neck (and a few dotted around his arms), and a lip ring, compared to, well, you.

but you liked having jisung as a friend. even short moments spent with him made you feel protected.

“just these please,” you smiled, before picking up a bag of mini cookies from the front of the counter and placing them on the top.

“₩15,000 please,” the worker said, placing all your items in a bag as you reached into your pocket to get your purse.

“oh my god,” you whispered, “i- i’m so sorry i—”

“we’ll take these as well,” jisung said, putting a few bottles of strawberry milk on the top, along with a pack of cigarettes.

“jisung,” you whined.

jisung shrugged, getting out his wallet and trying to hide a sigh as he handed over his last two ₩10,000 bills.

the worker nodded, adding the items onto the bill and taking jisung’s money. you both bowed, taking your items and leaving the shop.

you laughed, linking your arm with his, “come on, come back to my place and i’ll give you the money.”

he looked back to you, staring at him with big hopeful eyes, and he sighed, nodding, “i suppose i should walk you home anyway, right?”

“it’s not night time, you don’t need to. we’re doing this for you,” you said.

“hmm,” jisung said unconvincingly, laughing afterwards.

~

“mina!” you exclaimed, “i’m home!”

jisung’s head almost hurt as he walked in. there was so much sunlight streaming through the open windows. there were plants all decoratively laid about, letting in a fresh flow of oxygen. the small of frying bacon and sickly sweet vanilla flavoured coffee filled the apartment.

“i’ll get your money, okay?” you smiled at jisung, “take a seat!”

jisung took off his mucky doc marten boots, walking into your living room. there was a yoga mat on the floor and the sofas were made. jisung’s didn’t even have cushions.

“here. ₩25,000,” you nodded, handing jisung the money.

“n-no, y/n it was ₩15,000.”

“yeah, but you gave the man ₩20,000—”

“and recieved ₩5,000 back, please, y/n—”

“just take it! jisung you saved my life. oh! i know, me and mina should take you and your friends out for dinner!”

“n-no, you don’t wanna do that,” jisung said, shaking his head in slightly panic, “i should be going. th-thank you for this. bye.”

you turned to mina, noting her wide eyes as jisung scuttled out your apartment.

“what was that about? he never acts like that,” you chuckled, turning to mina with a shrug.

“y/n. that’s han jisung.”

you arched an eyebrow, nodding. you knew that already.

“he lives downtown. is he the boy you always talk about? who lives with seven other boys?”

you nodded.

“none of them have an education, y/n. they’re known as stray kids.”

“stray kids? seriously?” you said, rolling your eyes at the name.

mina bit her lip, “i heard their parents kicked them out and in retaliation they take their anger out on people.”

“but i know jisung. he’s lovely!”

“he’s still a stray kid, y/n,” mina sighed, “come on, let’s eat.”

지성의 일요일 [오후 16:07]

“minho, are you up yet?” jisung asked, walking into one of the only two bedrooms that were shared among eight boys.

minho groaned as jisung rolled his eyes, climbing in the bed beside his friend.

“i saw you last night,” minho said, his voice raspy as he squinted against the light.

the curtains hung up over the window was an old sheet, red wine and vomit stains all over it. but when shopping, the boys had found you had to pay a lot for curtains, and decided this to be the best option, even if it didn’t really do it’s job.

“saw me doing what?” jisung asked, looking to minho with furrowed eyebrows.

“you were with some girl,” minho said, rubbing his face, “i mean, i think it was you. i was surprised, but it looked a lot like you. want one?”

minho reached over to the bedside table, grabbing a cigarette and a lighter, propping the cigarette in his mouth. he covered it over with his hand and lit it with only one flick.

“nah,” jisung smiled as he rembered the walk the two of you had taken last night after jisung had saved you from that man, he beat him up as well, not that you’d been there for that, “i– i don’t feel well.”

minho shrugged, climbing out the bed and stretching his arms up, “suit yourself.”

jisung sighed, getting up and laying on the sofa in the middle of the living room. ‘sofa’. it was an old one, the actual sofa cushions replaced with one child’s mattress.

“changbin?” jisung said, “can i ask you something?”

the older male was using a rundown weight machine that stayed in the middle of the living room. it was a bit inconvenient, but it kept changbin fit, and they’d managed to buy it for only ₩3000.

changbin grunted as he stopped exercising, “what?”

“what do you think of people who live uptown?” jisung asked.

changbin shrugged, grabbing a towel off the side and wiping down his sweat, “depends. my family live up there so i know some dicks, but others are alright.”

“they’re all posh,” felix sighed, kicking jisung’s legs out the way and sitting on the sofa, his bowl of honey nut cornflakes spilling over the side.

“but... how would they feel about us?” jisung asked carefully.

“jisung they hate us, you know that,” changbin sighed, “why are you so fascinated with them suddenly, anyway? you hate them the most.”

jisung sighed, shaking his head as he went into the bedroom again, “minho, chuck me one.”

minho rolled his eyes.

“i just bought some more! give me one.”

minho chucked jisung the packet of cigarettes without a word, jisung lighting the tobacco and going coming back into the living room.

“i’m gonna do something,” jisung nodded, “with my life.”

“finally,” chan chuckled, “join our college.”

“jisung wouldn’t survive,” changbin said, rolling his eyes.

“i will!” jisung exclaimed, “i fucking will. i am over this shit! why am i like this?! why can’t i be more like her?!”

“who?” chan asked.

“jisung you sound like you’re down to get drunk, want to come with me tonight?” minho called.

“yes.”

“no,” chan said, “whoever you’re talking about, whatever has inspired you to do something with your life, you can’t start that plan by getting shit faced off stolen money.”

jisung dug into his wallet and pulled out the money you gave him this morning.

he sighed, chan was right. and after seeing you two days in a row he was reminded how much he really, really loved spending time with you.

“i have to go somewhere,” jisung said hurriedly, putting his wallet back in his pocket and running out the apartment, cigarette balancing in the corner of his mouth.

“guys i dropped my sandwiches off the balcony, do you think jisung will be able to throw them up?” hyunjin asked, a blunt in his hand.

changbin smacked him round the head, “jisung’s not going anywhere.”

“yes i am!”

“fucking sleep on it, dickwad!”

지성과 Y/N의 월요일 [아침 11:21]

“jisung! oh my god, i’m so glad you’re here, i was so worried when you ran off yesterday!” you exclaimed, “i thought i scared you or something.”

jisung laughed nervously, “i mean, o-of course not!”

“you alright? you don’t look well,” you said, putting the back of your hand to jisung’s head.

he scrunched up his face, removing your hand, “y/n, i’m fine.”

you smiled, rolling your eyes as you let him in your apartment.

“ji, have you been smoking again?” you asked as he took off his jacket.

“i- n– well– i—”

you glared at him and he sighed, “i had one on the way over.”

“come on, let’s go into my room,” you said, nodding your head in the direction of the room, “so why did you come back?”

“i just– i wanted to take you up on that offer of dinner,” jisung nodded, “i think that’d be nice. and we’ve known each other long enough time that i think it’s right you meet some of the most important people in my life.”

“that’s alright. but, jisung,” you laughed, “we’ve known each other for a long time, and i barely know anything about you.”

“well... where to start? um, my name’s han jisung. born 14th september, 2000.”

you smiled, “y/n y/l/n. born y/b/d.”

jisung paused for a moment before sighing, “i live downtown with seven of my friends. i don’t have a job, i dropped out of high school, i do... um, how to put this... criminal things.”

you looked at jisung for a moment before bursting out laughing.

“i’m serious, y/n.”

“i know you are! that’s the worst part! jisung, you really shouldn’t advertise that!” you laughed, before eventually pulling yourself together, “but, thank you for being honest.”

jisung shrugged, “you deserve to know.”

you smiled, “well, i do have a job, i work in a dog café down the road. not much, but i can pay rent each month so it’s alright. i live with mina, she’s studying physical and mental health at university at the moment.”

jisung nodded, “i see. very different to my friends. just yesterday hyunjin got high and threw 12 sandwiches off the balcony.”

you laughed, “is that why he needed so much milk as well?”

“uh, maybe?” jisung chuckled, scratching the back of his head.

the boy sat in front of you was different to how you’d ever seen him. you’d known jisung for a long time, but never spent enough time with him for it to come to anything. but seeing him for the past three days straight, it was life-changing in a strange kind of way.

Y/N과(와) 지성의 화요일 [아침 00:20]

“oh, mina’s just texted me,” you said, sitting up from jisung’s arms, “she’s coming home now.”

“oop, the club?” jisung laughed.

you rolled your eyes, “it’s showing so clearly that you do not know mina. absolutely not, she’s been at the library, lost track of time while studying.”

“i didn’t tell you but changbin and chan are actually studying,” jisung said, watching you walk to the kitchen, bending down to look in the fridge.

“oh, really? at uni?”

jisung shook his head, “the college downtown. they’re doing art and hoping to open their own tattoo parlor.”

“good for them!” you exclaimed, finally pulling out two bottles of beer and walking back to the sofa where you and jisung had migrated to in order to watch netflix, “what do you want to do?”

jisung rolled his eyes, “how am i supposed to know?”

you chuckled, taking a swig of beer, “do you not have a dream?”

jisung shook his head, “not one.”

“how do you get up in the morning?” you said, a clearly judging tone in your voice.

jisung rolled his eyes, “fine, what’s yours?”

“to find my soulmate,” you said, “i’m allergic to dogs. i’m only working in that place because everyone likes dogs.”

jisung’s mouth dropped open slightly, “y/n, are you kidding me? there are cat people, hamster people, horse people and you choose the animal you’re allergic to?! are you alright? how do you not die everyday?!”

you laughed, “i have meds that i take everyday before work. i’m fine, really. and i’ve tried working at stables, and cat cafés and i don’t think they have hamster cafés. but dogs just... like me? i guess? so i feel connected to them.”

jisung chuckled, shaking his head, “unbelievable.”

“so what do you do with your unemployed time?” you said, putting your beer on the table and bringing your knees up to your chest.

“i told you.”

“criminal things?” you asked, rolling your eyes, “go on then, scare me, like what?”

jisung sighed, “like... drugs, violence. to get money i steal.”

you furrowed your eyebrows slightly, noticing jisung’s figure shrink inwards as his gaze fell to the floor. this wasn’t normal, jisung was such a confident person all the time.

“ji,” you breathed, “i don’t mind. i mean, i’m not encouraging it, but i’m not going anywhere. it’s clear you just have no other options.”

“but what if i do? but i don’t even know because i’m spending all my time being a fucking idiot and beating up dicks i see on the street,” jisung sighed, bringing his, now watery, eyeline back up to you.

“can i have a couple requests?”

jisung looked up to you, confused, but hummed for you to continue.

“please stop doing drugs,” you whispered, “and don’t beat up somebody unless you’re 100% sure that they don’t have any weapons on them.”

a tear spilled from jisung’s eye as he nodded, “i promise.”

you smiled, wrapping your arms around his shaking body, holding him to your chest.

“shall we go to bed?” you whispered, burying your face in his hair.

he nodded, letting you help him up and lead him into your room.

“i– i don’t have any clothes,” jisung sniffed.

“you could borrow a hoodie? i stole one from my dad when i was younger,” you said, heading to your wardrobe, “and just... stay in your pants, i don’t mind.”

jisung chuckled, taking the hoodie from you and thanking you quietly.

you climbed into your double bed, squeezing up to the wall and sitting so that you weren’t looking at jisung, before patting the bed next to you.

“let’s sleep,” you said, a smile on your face.

jisung smiled too, climbing in beside you.

“thank you,” he whispered, turning to face you as you closed your eyes.

you whined slightly, fumbling your hand around before you found jisung’s, taking it in yours and intertwining them, holding them against your stomach.

“don’t thank me, ji. i’m just being nice,” you said, “that says to me that everyone else in your life has been a dick.”

he laughed dryly, “you wouldn’t be wrong.”

you sighed, turning onto your side and cuddling jisung close to your body, “then that’s behind you now. i’ll be there for you in future, okay?”

jisung’s eyes welled with tears again. why were you doing this? this feeling of comfort, of love. he adored it, he couldn’t help but want more and more of it, but at the same time, it terrifyed him. what if you left? then what? no more comfort? no more pain?

“okay?” you urged, “because i want to be there. for you.”

jisung took a shaky breath, breathing in your sweet scent. why was he like this? why couldn’t he trust anyone?

“okay,” jisung said, repositioning so he was mire comfortable against your chest, “i love you, y/n.”

your heart pounded, butterflies flapping their wings in your stomach. do you think he could feel that?! he was pressed against your chest, after all. no, no, it’s fine. he didn’t mean it like that anyway! or... no. can’t be.

you pressed a kiss to the top of his head, “i love you too, ji. i just wish i found you sooner.”

[evans-addicted]

Stay with me (Bucky x Reader)

A/N: This is my first attempt at posting something publicly. It was inspired by a dream I had (hee hee hee). It is in 2 parts. I write what I think so I am not sure if it feels like it rattles on, but the idea was to write it so you know exactly what’s going on in her mind, even when it’s sarcastic remarks to herself.

Synopsis: After being hurt by local thugs trying to help a student of yours, Steve finds you and brings you to T’Challa’s Facility to get you help. Friendship occurs with Steve and Bucky during your recovery til it comes time to go home, then shit gets real.

Word count: total 6756. Part 1=3305words   Part 2=3451

Warnings: Part 1 is swearing and violence, Part 2 is swearing, alcohol, some talk of injuries, and SMUT

(Pics and Gif’s are not mine, I Googled them)

****

You sighed as you saw the two large black men turn the corner. You knew this wasn’t going to pretty, again. Why do you keep doing this? Why can’t you just be like everyone else and let the police deal with situations like this? Because you care damn it. You knew this14 yr old boy, Yuna, from the school you taught at and you knew he was a good kid. You also knew he lived in a little hovel with his mom and 3 sisters all under the age of 12. You knew why he was helping sell drugs for these Wakandan drug dealers, but you didn’t like it one bit. You were in the alley talking to Yuna, trying to plead with him to give it up and you’d figure out a way to help him somehow. The 2 guys walked speedily to you cursing as you held your hands up to show you meant nothing, just talking. The thinner asshat yelled out “we told you last time you bitch, leave our people alone!” Last week you had tried to get some prostitutes to stop working for this gang and let you get them help, so you took a few hits to the face.

“Hey man I’m just talking to one of my students that’s all” you pleaded. You remembered what being slapped around by these guys felt like and you were fine with not having that happen again. “I think you need a better lesson” the big guy backhanded you in the face, making you spin and fall to the ground. You felt a surge of adrenaline through your body and you used it to stand up.

That was stupid. So very stupid. But you were determined to show Yuna what these people were like, even if it meant taking a few smacks again. A few smacks would have been so much better than what you've gone through. It all happened so fast, you remember being punched in the head, stomach, and even one to the back. You writhed in pain on the ground as they took a few kicks to your stomach, cursing at you the whole time. Some in Wakandan and some in English, you believe for your benefit. All of a sudden the kicking and yelling stops as you hear another male voice yelling from behind you. A tall white man runs towards them and the two Wakandans and Yuna run back around the corner and you hear a car speed off. The white man, you now know was American from hearing him yell at the asshats, turned around and jogged back to you. You push yourself up onto your knees and hold your arms tight to your stomach to try to somehow hold in the pain. He knelt down in front of you telling you not to try to get up. “I had it under control, I can take a few punches ok” you slurred as if you were drunk, but it must’ve been from the fat lip you could feel. You look down as you feel a searing pain in your midsection, you pull your hands away from you to see you were covered in blood. The man stated in awe that you could even still move, “You weren’t punched, you were stabbed”! You looked up at his face, wide eyed in disbelief and just before you passed out you can remember saying “Holy shit, you’re Captain America”, fade to black.

Head pounding, your whole body aching, and your eyes straining, you blink uncontrollably, adjusting to the lights, you could see enough to know there were two figures standing over you. A few moments pass as they come clearer into view. You hear one say, “Well I see you couldn’t resist picking up another stray Steve”. “I’m not a stray asshole!” you blurt out roughly as your throat is dry and sore. “Language!” Steve sighs as he puts his hand on yours. “Sorry, force of habit. How are you feeling?” He then asks.

“Oh my god I’m dead! I died! I fucking died! I knew it!” you rambled on a few times as you saw Steve Rogers, Fucking Captain America and Bucky fucking Barnes standing at the sides of you. You had to be dead, because how in the hell does that happen right. “I died and this is heaven if you are here, although I totally saw myself going a different direction if ya know what I mean, haha” you were rambling again. “You’re not dead, though you ought to be after what you’ve been through” Steve tries to reassure you. “You’re in a hospital, well sort of. You’re in a medical facility. You were beaten up pretty badly and stabbed. You need to just relax and recover. You’ve got a lot of healing to do.” he stated. You just figured this was the doctor talking and you had a concussion so you were imagining it as Steve and Bucky here. I’ll go with the flow, you thought as you started to feel woozy and you drifted off back to sleep.

___

The next time you woke up you were not as groggy but just as sore. You opened your eyes to what looked like a large hospital room. A very nice hospital room, actually. One you could definitely not afford. Just then a nurse, a young, black woman you assume to be in her late 20’s, comes in with a new IV bag. She was startled a bit to see you were awake. “Oh, good morning sleepyhead” she softly exclaimed in a deep Wakandan accent. “Let me get the doctor, I’ll be right back” and she was out the door before you could ask anything else.

You took in the room some more while waiting for the doctor. You tried to sit up a little in the bed and when you felt a stabbing pain in your stomach, you stopped. Just then the doctor and nurse came into the room. “Whoa I would not try to do that ma’am, you’ll rip a stitch!” he stated as he held up his hand as if to physically stop you if you kept trying. “Here, you can move up the bed using this, but only a little ok” as he hands you the remote for the hospital bed. Out of the corner of your eye, you see more figures come into the room. Again, it was Steve freaking Rogers and Bucky freaking Barnes. You looked around for cameras because you truly had to be getting Punk’d or something.

You laid there silent, staring of course at them in disbelief. “I’m Dr. Mburno and this is your nurse Jessa. How are you feeling” the doctor asks you? “Um, I’m tripping balls man! This just doesn’t happen. Normal people just don’t meet fucking superheroes let alone have them in their hospital rooms!” Small laughs came from the nurse, doctor, and Steve. Bucky just stood there with no emotion showing. “Uh first off, not superheroes ma’am.” “Oh my god please stop calling me ma’am, my name is Y/N”.  “Ok Y/N, you were badly injured. You were lucky he found you when he did actually” the doctor stepped closer as he motioned towards Steve. “How long have I been out?” you queried. “3 days ma’am,” the doctor says while looking at your chart. “3 DAYS! OH MY GOD, MY KIDS. I need to go!” you exclaimed and tried to sit up again. “KIDS!” Steve and Bucky let out with startled looks as they looked ready to spring out the door, “You have kids? How many? How old? They weren’t at your apartment!” In shock at that, wide-eyed you ask “how you know what’s in my apartment?” “Your information and keys were in your purse. We needed to see if there was anyone to tell that you were here” Jessa told you.

“Oh um, my kids are my students, I meant my students. I’m a teacher. But my cat, yah she’s going to need more food and water.” Relief was the body language you now read in the room. “Sorry, I’m just really close to my kids, um my students.” You explained. The nurse handed you a clipboard with blank paper and a pen “put down where you work and we’ll make sure the children know you are ok. Is there anyone else we need to inform, perhaps family or friends?” You take the clipboard and thank her “um but no there isn’t anyone else to contact” lowering your head you start writing the information down.

“I’m going to do a check up on you now to see how you are healing if that is ok?” he asks you politely. “Yah of course, sure”. He then looked over to Steve and said he was going to need them to step out and he could let them come back and talk to me afterward if that was alright. Steve nodded a yes and turned to head out. He nodded at Bucky towards the door as if saying ok let’s go. Just before he turned away, Bucky shot a quick half smile your way. You were not sure what that meant. So the doc went through the normal checking my stitches and wherever else hurt. He told you about all your injuries and that you were probably going be here for a few weeks til you were able to leave. After all that you were given some more morphine for the pain and dozed off.

___

Steve and Bucky. Bucky stood towards the back corner of the room and Steve walked right up to your bedside. “What on earth were you doing, trying to get yourself killed?’ he started on you like a disappointed parent. “Hey someone has to help the little people. That’s all I’m trying to do, help” you defended. The right side of his mouth lifted into a half smile, melting you like putty, and he said: “Well who’s going to help you?” “Well this week it was you, next week it might be Santa Claus, I dunno” you shrugged sarcastically. A smartass response was your go to when you were nervous. Steve, Bucky, and their utter hotness made you nervous. Like you said before, this just doesn’t happen to normal people. Bucky smirked and let out a huff like laugh. Yay, he’s not a robot, you thought to yourself, then you remembered you had called him an asshole when you first woke up. You looked over at Bucky “Oh, hey I’m sorry I called you an aaaarrssehole” (you started to say asshole, but glanced at Steve to see him cringing at the beginning of your foul language, so you corrected yourself). He smiled and replied with “I should apologize for the stray remark, it was rude. Sorry”. You smiled back in acceptance.

“So this is awkward, but I cannot afford to stay here. I don’t make very much and this is way” you started saying towards Steve but he interrupted you by putting his hand up and smiling that damn half smile again. “Don’t even worry about that. It’s not every day we get a superhero in here so let us just get you better ok” he shot a wink at Bucky, quoting me from earlier. They both let out a small laugh. Bucky started walking towards the door, Steve told you “we’ll come back and visit, but you have to listen to what Dr. Mburno tells you to do or there’ll be consequences ma’aaaaY/N” he had started to call you ma’am again then trailed off into your name like you had done. It was cute. You were blushing.  Blushing and feeling on top of the world right now, even though you hurt like a mother fucker. Aaaaaand your new morphine drip has kicked in. Sleepytime.

You aren’t sure how long you had been asleep this time you woke up. If you can even call it waking up. You weren’t able to move or even open your eyes. You were just conscious. You could hear a light hum of electricity in the room from the medical equipment in the room. There was something else you could barely make out what it was. It sounded like someone breathing. All of a sudden the door handle clicked and you hear that light swoosh sound the door made when it opened. A few footsteps and then you heard a voice you distinctly recall being Steve’s say “I thought I’d find you in here”. “Hey” a low gruff voice mumbled. This startled you, even though you couldn’t move or speak. “What’s going on Buck?” Steve questioned. “I dunno, I just..it’s sad” Bucky seemed to struggle to get the right words. “What’s sad?” “You remember my apartment when you found me in Bucharest?” “Ya,” Steve answered skeptically. “You didn’t see her place, but it was just like that Steve”, Bucky blurted out. “Ok, what does that have to do with anything” Steve questioned not sure where this was going. Bucky looked at him with those same sad eyes he gave when he remembered the past and said: “It was so empty with nothing personal like photos, postcards, or mail.” “Buck you were on the run, you had to.” He was interrupted by Bucky, “I’m talking about her place, Steve. That’s what her place looked like. I had an excuse like you said, but she should have friends and family and things you know. I don’t know, I just feel sad for her.” “C’mon bud, let’s get out of here and talk somewhere else” You heard Steve’s footsteps walk farther into the room, then stop and 2 sets of footsteps walk out. You still couldn’t move or speak, but you could feel the tears roll from your eyes.

___

The next time you woke up you felt much more rested and not in as much pain. It could have been the drugs, who knows. You were able to sit up a little so progress right. You pushed the nurse call button and a few moments later nurse Jessa came in asking how you were feeling. “Pretty good, actually. How long was I out this time?” “I will have the doctor come in to talk to you about that.” “Whoa wait a minute, please tell me. I won’t freak out this time I promise” you pleaded to her. “Well you’ve been in and out for a week now,” she said with a worried look on her face. “Wow. I don’t remember waking up or anything.” “Yes, we kept you in a semi medically induced coma to help push meds and some steroids to speed your healing” she explained. “Steroids, like the buff muscle stuff! Cool” you laughed. She giggled “no quite like that. It’s a metabolic steroid replacement we have created here.” “Oh, shucks. Well, that’s all good, I think it's helping because I’m feeling better. I don’t feel as much pain.”

“That’s great!” you hear Steve coming in the door as he clasped his hands together as in applause. “Hey Captain Mr. Rogers America” You shrugged to imply you weren’t sure what to call him. “Just Steve, please.” His half smile was so intoxicating that you weren’t sure if you could handle a full smile. Just then you noticed Bucky walk in and stand behind Steve off to the side a little. Your face noticeably sunk causing Steve to ask if you were ok. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just eager to get out of this bed I think” as you looked at Jessa. “Let me get the doctor in here and he can see if you’re ready to go to your recovery room for the duration of your stay.” Then she left. You kept your gaze down at your sheets. Steve broke the silence with “Yah, we’ve got a great room set up for you. Nice view. So til you are 100% you can just think of it as your home away from home. We’ll give you a tour once the doc gives the all clear, right Buck?” he motioned towards Bucky behind him. “Sounds good” sounded forced like when you have to say you like a present you obviously don’t.

___

Several hours later that evening after all the medical protocols and being poked a few times and being x-rayed or cat scanned and having given some blood, Dr. Mburno said you were ready to start recovery out of the hospital bed. “Yessss” as you fist pumped. Jessa helped you get all unplugged and put a robe on you. She helped you sit in the wheelchair even though you wanted to walk, they said it was too far to your room. Bucky was out in the hallway when Jessa rolled you out of the room. Seeing the surprise on your face “Steve had to do something” he pointed a thumb behind him. He took a hold of the wheelchair handles and nodded to Jessa that he had it from here. And you were off. Walking down hallways and through what seemed like large common areas you stayed silent as did Bucky. Every once in a while you would hear a sigh as if he was going to say something then stopped. Finally, he stopped you in front of a door and reached over your shoulder to the handle. His chest moved your shoulder forward a little and all you could think was damn that muscle and how damn good he smelled. With the door now open, he moved beside you and held out his prosthetic hand for you. You grabbed his hand and he helped you stand. Lacing his other hand behind your back he escorted you into your room.

You looked around as you hobbled in on legs you haven’t used in almost 2 weeks. It was a beautiful room, with a large picture window viewing the jungle below. Plain white walls bare of any paintings or artwork except for the pop of color from the dark blue door trim. Gorgeous marble time floors beneath your feet with only a white fuzzy rug under the bed extending out about 3 feet on the sides and foot. The bed looked plain and simple except for the bedding that looked like clouds. You pictured yourself running and jumping on it. Bucky saw the smile cross your face and asked: “You like?” “This is fucking heaven” was all you could think of to describe it. He laughed slightly. There was a desk in the corner with a laptop and folders on it. “What’s all that?” you nodded in its direction. “Don’t worry about that now. Just get steeled and we’ll tell you about that later” he said waving a hand towards it. “Your clothes were brought here for you and are in that closet” Pointing to the left of the room. “Ok well, I’m going to take a shower first thing.” You pointed towards the bathroom on the right side.

He started walking you over when you held up your hand and said: “ I can shower on my own thanks.” “Oh I know, I was just helping. I'm sorry. Um do you need anything else?” he stammered. “Oh my god this bathroom is amazeballs!” you shouted. He laughed and shot a finger at you, “I’ll take that as a no. Call if you need anything” he pointed at the phone on your bedside table then left, shutting the door behind him. After the unbelievable shower, you went to the closet and pulled out underwear, a tank top, and pajama pants to wear to bed. You couldn’t believe how tired you were already just from taking a shower, but you guess that’s what happens after being asleep for 2 weeks. Walking to the bed you thought once again about jumping onto the fluffy cloudlike bed, but looking down at your stitched up stomach, you decided against it. Lying down in the fresh linens and covering up with the thick comforter you immediately drifted off from exhaustion.

To be continued....

Tumblr wouldn’t let me add Gif’s or pictures....CURSES!!!

I hope you like it so far. I am finishing editing on part 2 now and will have it up tonight or tomorrow. Please let me know any feedback. Thanks.

[cannabis4oregon-blog]

Google & Gay Blogs

While I am in the “appeal” process with Google, my hopes are not high that I will get access to my old account.  In doing some research I found that Google is picking on Gay Bloggers.  The issue appears to be nudity.  When I opened my 2nd blog that did have nudity and men in sexual acts I kind of suspected that I would risk being shutdown.  I thought about opening it as a separate blog and now wish that I would have.  Then I think I would have a better idea as to what happened.

Google disables access but you will NEVER know why it happened.  Much of this activity I am to understand is done by Robots and not humans.  In fact I found a phone number for Google and called it.  I tried to talk with a human but was told that they do not offer live customer support at this time.  Instead I was redirected to a web page.  You can easily wind up chasing your tail going through web pages, forms and forums.

My understanding is that you complete the form that Google provides when your disabled and want to appeal.  You then should post in the Google Help Forum telling people you got shutdown and ask for help.  A middle man will then relay your request to a Google Employee.  Then the middle man gets back to you after they hear back from the Google Employee and you either get or do not get your access back.  They don’t elaborate as to why things happened it is just that way.  There isn’t such a thing as a 2nd or 3rd appeal but people have tried.

In short there is a ton of road blocks in place and no one is in any hurry to get you a response.  So to guard against this make sure that you have your Blogger theme & content backed up on a regular basis.  Better yet if your really paranoid don’t post nude photos at all.

While I understand Google is a free service and that said service is “at will” meaning they can terminate your account with or without notice, they are also trying to take over the world, much like a Microsoft.  They give you free e-mail, free cloud storage, programs like Google Docs, They branched into social networking with Google +.  They want you to use their service BUT if you offend them or do something they don’t like they just pull the plug.  Now how in the world do they expect people to trust them?  To my knowledge this hasn’t made it to main stream media and I honestly doubt it will.  I mean it is just something that affects the gays and it’s porn so why put it in the lime light.

I understand some of Google’s point but at the same time, under the Constitution I am entitled to Free Speech.  I should be able to say what I want and post photos of what I want.  I agree with warning people ahead of time that they are about to enter an Adult site.  However, if you click past the warning then you shouldn’t be offended at what you see.  I mean especially when the words homo and sex are in the title and URL of the blog.

Since I had a gut feeling things would go south I checked on what Google’s policy is regarding Nudity.  Here’s what I found.

Adult Content: We do allow adult content on Blogger, including images or videos that contain nudity or sexual activity. But, please mark your blog as 'adult' in your Blogger settings. Otherwise, we may put it behind a 'mature content' interstitial.

There are some exceptions to our adult content policy:

   Do not use Blogger as a way to make money on adult content. For example, don't create blogs where a significant percentage of the content is ads or links to commercial porn sites.    No incest or bestiality content: We do not allow image, video or text content that depicts or encourages incest or bestiality.

Child safety: We have a zero tolerance policy towards content that exploits children. Some examples of this include:

   Child pornography: We will terminate the accounts of any user we find publishing or distributing child pornography. We will also report that user to law enforcement.    Pedophilia: We do not allow content that encourages or promotes sexual attraction towards children. For example, do not create blogs with galleries of images of children where the collection of images or text accompanying the images is sexually suggestive.

Hate Speech: We want you to use Blogger to express your opinions, even very controversial ones. But, don't cross the line by publishing hate speech. By this, we mean content that promotes hate or violence towards groups based on race, ethnicity, religion, disability, gender, age, veteran status, or sexual orientation/gender identity. For example, don't write a blog saying that members of Race X are criminals or advocating violence against followers of Religion Y.

Crude Content: Don't post content just to be shocking or graphic. For example, collections of close-up images of gunshot wounds or accident scenes without additional context or commentary would violate this policy.

Violence: Don't threaten other people on your blog. For example, don't post death threats against another person or group of people and don't post content encouraging your readers to take violent action against another person or group of people.

Now on my 2nd blog, I did have a content warning up.  I figured that since they permit nudity it wouldn’t be a problem.  I’m no pedophile and totally support protecting children.  I mean your only a kid once.  You will be an adult for a very long time.

Realize that all of this is supposition on my part.  It would be great if Google or their robots would communicate as to why they are disabling or taking away access from people.

I found the Counter of Shame and a list of Gay Blogs that have been closed.  A link to the page and the counter appear below.

http://googlebloggerclosesgayblogs.blogspot.com/

As well the Counter of Shame appears in my sidebar.  If I do regain access to my old sites, I am tempted to just put in an entry directing folks here.  Let me know what you would like to see happen if I get my access back.

Thanks for stopping by.  Talk with you peeps later. Posted by Jeremy Ryan at 9:28 PM No comments: Links to this post Labels: F U Blogger, Old Blog, Please Comment Fresh Start

New or Old reader ….Greetings and welcome!  For unknown reason Blogger decided to delete my old blogs.  I have been going through the appeal process to get them back, but with so many horror stories on the net I decided to cut my losses and start over.  Hopefully, this blog will be safe (crosses fingers) and be able to stay on-line for many years.  If you remember me you will recall that I had two blogs.  My main blog was on-line for around 7 years, so loosing all of those posts really hurt.  Not to mention the hours I spent designing this new site.  Time really passes quickly when your engrossed in a project.  The hard part for me was doing the tweaking and making sure everything was just perfect before I forged forward.

For the new folks, read my profile to learn about me.  Just in case you can’t tell by the name of the blog I am gay (shocker, I know).  I have a partner and we have been together for many, many years.  Our children are our cats, we have 7 of them.  1 Momma cat and her 4 kids.  The other two are strays that we took in.  Actually the one stray TAZ had been coming around for years and once we brought him in he brought along a friend.  His friend is male and has not been neutered yet, so he howls to go outside because he wants a female.  He sprays the house to mark his territory and TAZ is really his only friend in the cat world.  We love them all but they don’t all love each other and always get along.  Cat fights or disagreements are a little too frequent.  Someone is always hissing, which drives me absolutely crazy.

I am in the Technology field and have been unemployed for 16 months.  I have had plenty of interviews but no offers.  I suspect but can’t prove that the reason why it’s taken me so long is because one of the people I used as a reference was actually giving out bad information.  I only say I suspect that because last year and again this year I had to places interested in me.  Suddenly after they talked to this person they decided to hire someone else.  So I am now using a different reference in place of that person.  The problem right now is getting interviews.  Last year was great but this year not so much.  Funny thing is when all of this happened I thought it would be a couple months.  Boy was I wrong!

Given the fact that I have been living on unemployment and didn’t know any better, I tapped into my 401k.  That hurt me on taxes as well as wiping out a good portion of my retirement.  Fortunately I am young enough that if I get back to work soon, I will be able to save some of that back.  I am in the process of filing Bankruptcy.  It’s not like I wanted to but I am backed into a corner and really have no choice.  Turns out I didn’t need to touch my retirement after all because it’s protected and exempt from creditors.  Damn!  If I had only known that sooner I would be in less debt and have more savings.  When you know better, you do better.  So now I’m telling folks about it so they too are educated and if they are in my shoes they don’t touch what they have worked so hard to save for.

What can I expect to see here?  There will be some photos of guys on occasion.  I will be talking a lot about my life and what I am going through at the present time.  You will hear all about my partner, cats and what ever is on my mind.  I enjoy music a lot so you will see music videos.  Some advice and commentary on current events.  That is pretty much it in a nut shell.

I welcome your comments, feedback and suggestions.  Feel free to share anything.  Comment moderation is enabled so if you post something that you don’t want me to share with the rest of the world be sure to type in ***DO NOT POST***.  Otherwise, I will publish what you write.

If your gay and just coming to terms with that or have questions about gay people, I am more than happy to help out with any advice.  I know it is not easy being gay, it can be a difficult thing for you to come to terms with, let alone dealing with how other people react when you tell them the news.  Younger guys hang in there when you grow up things are much better.  The important thing is that if your having any kind of problem be it sexual identity, bullying or whatever TALK to someone, DO NOT hold in your feelings.  That only makes things worse.  The hard part might be finding someone trustworthy.  If you want that person can be me.  Otherwise, seek out a parent, close friend or counselor.

Well the hour is growing late and I need to prepare to turn in.  Thanks again for stopping by.  I hope to hear from you and see you here again real soon.  Take care!

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