#because i was on the phone. and for some reasons customers see me standing there with a headset on and assume i am therefore free

[irisbaggins]

Trying to trouble-shoot a customer over a phone is always an exercise in "stick to Norwegian you gremlin" for me. I so badly want to use English lingo for things, but my poor customers barely understand what I'm saying in Norwegian, let alone English! The amount of times I end up apologising because my explanations are shit are numerous, and most of the time my customers are really nice about it.

Although, I do loathe having to trouble-shoot networking over the phone. It's a pain in the ass, and it's difficult to find the problem when there are so many moving parts to a network.

At least the customer and I can joke around a little and make the process more pleasant for the both of us. Especially when the problem may have been a wonky cable, and not something much more expensive that must be replaced.

[m-ilkiee]

Monsters: Mikey Sano x Reader x Izana Kurokawa

Chapter 2: Shots Fired

series summary: your grievous sin was Emma standing up for you to her brothers. and now you’re going to pay the heavy price for destroying their perfect family dynamic.

chapter summary: Izana Kurokawa demands your attention and he doesn’t take no for an answer. Not even when his demands are outrageous.

cw: DARK CONTENT, MISOGYNY, NSFW, r*pe mention, religious guilt, depictions of PTSD and CPTSD, emotional incest, abandoment issues, violence, revenge porn, depression, filming without consent, drugging, implied domestic abuse, victim blaming, blackmailing, manipulation, gaslighting, mind break, psychological torture, use of firearms

r-18+ (not suitable for 17 and under)

wc: 11.6k

[masterlist] [chapter 1] [chapter 3] [taglist]

a/n: likes are nice, comments and reblogs with comments are superior, anons are also superior too and would make me update faster cause it means people like what i write. this chapter takes an entirely different turn from the old story, some scenes are similar but the context is different. i host polls after this so stay tuned. Edit 02/11/2024: this chapter's end has been edited and changed. I've indicated the edited point, so that you could skip other parts to read it. Thank you.

 YOU haven’t been able to stay asleep for the past few days.

It’s easy to fall asleep after a hard and stressful day at school and your part-time job. Your limbs ache from all the walking and lugging a bookbag far heavier than what you could handle -since all your e-textbooks were on your (now destroyed) laptop and phones were not allowed during lectures. And working from 5pm until 9pm at a restaurant, serving food to rude, overbearing customers only to be paid in pieces was another added stress in itself.

Not to mention, studying until the words are bleary and just looking at a book hurts your eyes.

But then, in all your dreams, everything you’ve pushed to the back of your memory is at the forefront. Your dream starts typically, your normal school day, waking up, dressing in your cute little blue crop sweater and jean skirt with socks. You go to classes, and then you see Mikey’s car waiting for Emma.

Things take a different turn. He’s the one getting out of the car to meet you. It’s like a siren call, him holding out his hand for you to take despite someone screaming for you to stop. You try to reject him, try to run away like the voice said but you end up getting trapped. This time, he’s not using his hands. He’s fully sheathed inside you, robbing you of the thing you hold so dear while you kick, bite and claw at him until you wake up screaming, sweat soaked all over your sheets.

You consistently dream of being violently raped by Manjiro Sano.

The next few hours until sunrise were equally horrible. You’re quietly sobbing into your pillows, praying to God to forgive you for letting Mikey touch you in the first place, assuming your reason for having such dreams was God’s divine judgement for your grievous sin. You’ve lost count on how many Bible verses you stay up reading until your eyes are bleary and the sun comes up.

No matter how much you pray and how many times you recite psalms 127 before you sleep, you can never escape Mikey in the world of dreams. He’s a virus that has invaded your thoughts, corrupting every dream you had and twisted them into nightmares.

You don’t know how long you can hold on being this sleep deprived. It’s been impairing your school life, trying to find a way to stay awake during classes only for you to fall asleep and miss the rest of it. Even when you got notes from the person next to you, reading them was always difficult because your eyes hurt so much.

Work was even more taxing and stressful, rush week adding more stress than you could ever imagine. You found yourself spacing out more than usual when you were supposed to be taking orders. You were unable to keep up with the fast paced environment, your body feeling like a ton of bricks with every moment you make. Your eyes were heavy lidded, tired from forcing them open throughout the day.

You were so, so tired-

“Hello! Are you sleeping on me young lady?” A voice snapped at you.

Your eyes shot open and immediately you stood back straight. You must have been dozing off while taking the older lady’s order -the very thing you’ve been trying to avoid all day long. “No, not at all Ms-” you started to explain. “-I was just … what was your order aga-”

You flinched when the woman angrily slammed her fist on the table, shutting you up instantly! “So you were sleeping on the job! What kind of establishment allows this?” She screamed, attracting the attention of customers around. “I need to speak to your manager. NOW!”

You instantly began to panic at the mention of your manager. If he heard any of this, he was definitely going to fire you. You cannot afford to lose this job right now, with all your school expenses and saving up money for next session’s tuition.

“No mam!” you begged, keeping your voice even as you tried to reason with her. “Th-there’s no need for that! Please! Let me take your order and I’ll-” you racked your brain for an excuse, knowing fully well your establishment does not offer free meals. “- I’ll pay for your meal! On me-”

“So you’re trying to imply I’m poor?” She interrupted you again, her tempo even higher than before. “You disrespectful little wretch! How dare you? GET ME YOUR MANAGER RIGHT NOW!”

You started begging the older woman, trying to calm her down and de-escalate the situation, but each plea only fuelled her rage. By now, every customer, every employee and just anyone in that place watched you grovel and beg this woman to calm down, some people even videoing your altercation. Your body was trembling as she screeched in your ears, calling you all sorts of names while you relentlessly apologised to her.

“What is going on here?”

You winced at the sound of your manager’s voice emerging from the backrooms. You stood stiffly as he walked to your side, using his shoulder to nudge you out of the way. “Is there something wrong Ms.?” He asked the lady. “What happened?”

“This little wretch!” She practically screeched at you, her finger wagging straight at your hung face. “She was sleeping while I was ordering! And when I pointed it out to her calmly, she called me a hag!”

Your eyes snapped open. You can tolerate people yelling at you, but lying is out of the question. “I did not call you anything! That’s a lie-”

“You be quiet!” Your manager yelled at you, silencing you. He turned to face the woman again, apologising profusely for your so called rude behaviour. “I promise you mam, she will be dealt with accordingly. Your order is in the house, please take that as a token of our humble apology and forgive us.”

You stood there in shock as the woman smirked satisfactorily at her now free meal. “Well, you better get rid of her!” She snarked, eyes scanning you up and down, plopping back down on her seat. “Or you’ll lose me as a patron.”

“Of course mam.” He said sweetly before switching his countenance towards you into a more irritated one. “You, come with me.”

You lowered your head once again in disappointment as you started following your manager towards the back rooms, your head lowered in shame as the eyes followed your every move to your damnation waiting for you in the manager’s office.

Your skin crawled as you felt his penetrating gaze on you, as if judging you. “You know how many complaints I have received this week just from you, (name)? How many orders you’ve messed up?”

You shook your head no in response, not trusting yourself to say anything reasonable at this point. He eyes you up and down again before scoffing at you rudely. “I only let you stay here because you said you were desperate for a job. But apparently, you’re not even bothered enough to keep it.” He spat out. “Unfortunately for you, this is the end of the road for you here. Change out of your uniform and leave.”

“But s-”

“I said you’re FIRED. GET OUT.”

You sighed weakly, obeying your now ex-manager’s order and leaving the office. You ignored the eyes of everyone watching you exchange the too tight black jeans and green top uniform back to your white bohemian skirt and light blue top with your white jacket. Calmly, you packed your school bag and everything you owned with you and slung it over your shoulder, replacing the uniform back to the locker, dropping the key on top.

No one said goodbye to you as you left through the back door.

  IZANA knows it's creepy to be waiting for Emma just outside her college, but it's not like he has a choice when she keeps ignoring any method he uses to contact her.

Mindlessly, he fiddled with his lighter with his back on the wall of the English department building and an unlit cigarette between his lips. Purple eyes scanned the people leaving the building one by one, hoping to find a mop of golden hair amongst the students. His hopes rose with each blond he saw, only for him to deflate when he realised they weren't her.

A few minutes passed and still no sign of Emma. Deciding that he didn’t want to stand around and gape, Izana lifted his lighter towards his cigarette, flicking the light twice and bringing the warm flame to his lips. Breathing in the familiar scent of nicotine, smoke filled his lungs as he tucked the lighter back in his pockets. His free hand took the cigarette from his lips and he exhaled, releasing plumes of smoke from his lips.

His smoking habit had gotten worse within the past week. Izana couldn’t help it, reaching for a light anytime he saw his gifts in the dustbin. Emma hasn’t been this angry at him before. Usually a new plushie was enough to wash his sins clean, no matter how grevious they were. Now, not even the most expensive shoes she’s been eyeing for months could satiate her anger.

All because of you.

Izana knows his little sister like the back of his hand. Like how she loved sleeping with plushies because it comforted her whenever their mother brought her gambling friends into the house and they were loud. Or how he picked up a guitar to learn multiple barbie songs because their mother had destroyed Emma’s CD that he bought with his money to punish her. He knew she liked warm tea during her periods and gentle back rubs to ease her pain. He’s not the best person to be around, with how fucked over he was by life until Shinichiro gave him purpose but he loved his sister a lot and everything he did was to protect her. Life hardened him, made him so jaded that the only thin thread connecting him to his humanity was Emma and he’d do anything to protect his humanity.

Only to watch it slip through his fingers.

First it was Mikey’s stupid friend, Ken Ryugi, who waltzed his way into Emma’s life. Izana didn’t like him one bit- didn’t like how Emma would bite her lip, waiting for him to reply and cry herself to sleep when he didn’t. Her heart was soft, fragile and that brute tore it apart by telling her he wasn’t interested in a relationship yet.

The only reason Ken wasn’t in an unmarked, shallow grave in the middle of nowhere was simply because Mikey was involved.

Now it is you, taking the space in her life that belonged to him and Mikey. You’re pushing both of them out of the equation, threatening their position in their sister’s life and everything they know.

Izana wonders how someone so insignificant was so important to Emma that she was willing to cut communications with her own brothers. It baffles him beyond understanding and at the same time enrages him that she could trust you so easily. That she was willing to turn against him in your name.

He took more puffs, skimming throughout the campus for any sight of her. It didn’t matter how he felt about it, as Kisaki had convinced him to ask Emma and you to go shopping, just to get back into Emma's good graces again. Apparently doing a nice gesture publicly for you would convince their sister to give them another chance again.

Especially because Izana had been the biggest opposition to their friendship.

“But Mikey was a little shit about them too.” he grumbles underneath his breath, cigarette in hand. “Why do I have to be the one to apologise? And why did Mikey get an out while I’m doing all the heavy lift-”

His thoughts were cut short the second he caught sight of a familiar blonde hair bouncing in the wind and stood up straight, tossing the cigarette to the floor and crushing it underneath his black shoes, before rushing to catch up to his little sister.

Izana pushed through the throng of people, violently shoving anyone that got in his way until he finally fell in step with her, slowing down to match her pace. Without wasting time, his hand curled around the girl’s wrist, stopping her in her tracks instantly and earning a shocked gasp escaped her lips.

“Get off me - Izana?”

Her free hand was fast to hit him, but her head was faster in turning around, only to recognize it was just Izana. Her hand stopped inches away from the smirking male’s face, the tension leaving her body and relief taking its place. It doesn’t last long, though as irritation suddenly crawls on her face, instantly displeased at his actions. “What the hell? I’ve told you to stop doing that.” she hissed at him.

A mischievous grin made its way to his face at Emma’s irritation. She always had a pout whenever she was angry at him and it made look even more adorable.

“Were you scared?” He teased, pulling Emma closer to him until she was practically smushed at his side, despite the glare she gave him in response. “You know no one would dare touch you.”

“Get off me. Your breath stinks like nicotine, I thought you said you quit smoking that shit.”

Ignoring Emma’s last question, he decided to change the topic. “Your lapdog isn't here with you?” he asked. Usually, you would be hovering behind her like a damn pest, so you not being around her was rather strange. 

Emma is quick to shove him off lightly, putting some distance between the two of them, clearly still mad at him. "(Name)'s not feeling well, so she didn't come to class today. I'm on my way to get her medicine."

Oh, that's a surprise.

But with you out of the way, Izana could finally have Emma all to himself for today and hang out with his beloved sister. Maybe even make up for the party thing without apologising to you. Without you here, it’s likely Emma isn’t as mad at the whole situation and is playing it up to make you feel like you have someone on your side.

He knows you’re not going to protest if Emma says she’s in talking terms with her brothers again. It’s a win-win situation and he doesn’t have to grovel or ask for forgiveness for some joke that went wrong.

"So that means we can hang out?"

"Excuse me?"

"You don't have to keep pretending you're still mad at me now that she isn't here." He spews the 'she' with so much venom it could kill, before switching up with a sick grin, his hand stretched out. "We can go to Vivienne Westwood and get that Saturn necklace you like, what do you say?"

His words hung in the air as Emma trailed her pointed glare from his hand, back to his cheerful visage. She crossed her arms in response slowly, her yellow eyes burning holes into his face as her lips curled into a sick sneer.

“Are you insane?”

“What?”

“Don’t ‘what?’ me Izana! I just told you (name)'s ill and you're asking me to go with you to shop at Vivienne westwood? Are you nuts?”

Emma’s voice was loud enough to garner wandering eyes of other by-standers, watching the event go down. Izana kept his composure, despite his bubbling irritation beneath the surface of his skin, with a smile -albeit stiffer than before. ‘She’s just being emotional’ Izana whispered to himself, still trying to be rational. ‘Just take it easy with her’

“Oh come on, should I care about her-"

"You should be begging her to forgive you for what you did to her that night!"

"You can't still be mad at me for that shit that happened two weeks ago. And besides, it's not my fault she couldn't take a joke” his words were smooth, buttery, flowing out of his lips like it was the truth, digging his own grave. “I didn’t know your friend was that sensitive-”

“Are you listening to the bullshit coming from your mouth?” Emma roared, her voice echoing throughout the entirety of the department, her face red with fury. Izana had never seen his own beloved sister ever look at him with such disgust in her eyes, her teeth gnashing against each other and hands at her side, clenching against each other. “Is that what you think a joke sounds like?”

“Calm the fuck dow-”

“No wonder you’re fucking single, you’re such a piece of shit to anyone that isn’t Shinichiro!” Emma screamed, interrupting Izana once again, her temper fiery enough to burn a hole on the ground she stood with how heated she was. “How does anyone even stand you for so long? You’re unbearable!”

“Excuse m-”

He doesn’t like where the conversation is going, with how furious Emma was right now. He tried to raise a comforting hand to Emma’s shoulder to ease her tension but she was quick to smack it away from her hard, stinging his fingers a little.

“You’re so unpleasant, how do you even have any friends? How do they tolerate you? To think (name) wanted me to forgive you! Thank god you aren’t my fucking brother, I can’t imagine being anything like you!”

The words left her mouth before she could stop herself.

It was as if the world froze over for Izana. He stood there, wide eyed, his heart beating loudly in his chest as all the voices around him faded into the background. His hand extended weakly at his side, mouth drying up as a lump formed in his throat. 

“I-I-i" she starts to stutter. It’s obvious that she can recognize what she had just said as he blankly stared at her. "I didn't mean i-”

He doesn’t let her finish, turning on his heel and walking away as fast as possible. People were quick to clear out of his way, not wanting to be his target of aggression. Emma followed behind, instantly, shouting his name at the top of her lungs followed with strings of apologies.

“Izana, wait please-” she screamed from the crowd of people, tears streaming from her yellow eyes. He continued to ignore her as he hopped on his bike, sliding in the key and revving up the engine before she could reach him.

Izana zoomed away, turning Emma’s cries into background noise, her words repeating in his head.

“I didn’t mean it! I’M SORRY-”

YOU don't know which was worse, the feeling of helplessness that came with the reality of your life crashing before your very eyes or the splitting headache you've developed after crying in your room for a week straight. Laying on your bed all day, huddled up in a blanket and sobbing uncontrollably was unhealthy, but it was all you found the strength to do these days. 

In all your years of being alive, you've never felt this pathetic. Not when you would be pushed outside in the pouring rain if you made a mistake in making dinner, or had been beaten with a belt in front of Yuzhua and Hakkai because you failed your catechism test. You could protect yourself from your brothers when they got violent. You could run and hide when your dad was really angry and wanted to take it out on you.

Unfortunately, no one told you what to do when your life is falling apart.

Ever since that day, you couldn't find the strength to go to class or do anything for that matter. It was like your entire energy was sucked out of you, leaving your body an empty husk with nothing left to give. 

You only have yourself to blame.

You drag the blankets closer to your body, sniffling a bit. The worst part of all of this is that after this month, if you don’t find a job that pays you quickly, you are going to be broke. It’s times like this that makes you regret leaving your family. You know it’s wishful thinking, but you wonder if you would be forgiven assuming you return home in tears and repentant of your sin of disobedience like the prodigal son in the bible. Life is too hard to live in the outside world without the help and guidance of a parent. You miss your old life, with your own bed and guaranteed food, as long as you did as you were told. You miss how sometimes your parents took you and your siblings to eat out after church.

You miss your mother. You want to go back to her. Life is hard, and dealing with being jobless with nowhere to turn to is harder. You could ask Emma, but she’s already taking care of you and there was no way you would bother your friend about your money problems.

"Hey babes, I got the medicine for you."

Emma's soft voice rouses you out of your self-pity session. The wood creaks underneath her heels as she walks to your bed and takes a seat besides you, the mattress dipping underneath her weight. The scent of her Vivienne Westwood wafting through your nostrils fills you with a sense of warmth, familiarity and at the same time, dread.

You feel guilty. Perhaps it's because you don't know how to tell Emma what exactly is wrong with you. It's easier to give her the half-truth that you caught a stomach bug than say everything. If you even as much as hinted that Manjiro had something to do with the real reason you were a sobbing mess on your bed, you're sure she would overreact and fight with her brothers again.

But still, not telling her meant you were keeping secrets from her. Something you both promised not to ever do as you two became best-friends.

‘It’s for her own good.’ you try to justify it. ‘It’s better I keep my mouth shut.’

Pushing that thought at the back of your mind, you roll over to her direction, pulling down your blanket just a little bit to see her properly. Your heart drops at the sadness etched onto Emma’s face, a forlorn look in her eyes. You hated seeing her down, yet all you’ve been doing for the past few months since you came into her life was causing her pain. You know how it feels to lose family, no matter how bad they were to you and Emma is no different.

“Hey”

Your voice is hoarse from your constant crying, but Emma doesn’t mention it as she reaches a hand to caress your face. “You look better than yesterday. You up to eat?”

You nodded briefly, realising how hungry you were. You’ve barely had an appetite to eat anything, so your rations had been smaller and compact until you regained it back bit by bit, thanks to Emma’s constant care. Pushing yourself up, you sit up and yawn, quickly covering your mouth the moment a bad stench emanates from it. Emma’s face quickly grows sour as well, probably smelling it too.

“You haven’t showered.”

“Uhhh-”

You knew there was no excuse for that one as Emma put the food and medicine away before yanking you off the bed while talking about how gross you were for not showering throughout today. “You’re a girl (name), don’t do this to yourself, c’mon-”

“But-” you start to whine, trying to defend yourself. “I was tired-”

“Nope!” she retorted, pushing you towards the bathroom. “No excuses! I swear you’re acting like Mikey when he’s in one of his moods-”

The room falls silent at her words, the cheerful aura dropping the second Emma realises what she’s said, a wave of guilt washing over her face as she lets go of your hands.

“Fuck- I’m sorry (name)...”

Your heart aches at how heartbroken she sounds right now and shatters even further at the fact that everything, every problem they were experiencing right now was all your fault. You saw it deep in Mikey’s eyes how much pain and suffering your presence in their family had caused, and how his anger reflected that action towards you. You’ve been so entrenched in your own problems that you forgot the mess you made in their family.

“Emma, you miss them don’t you?”

‘It’s not too late.’ You mutter to yourself, your heart in your throat as you steel your resolve. You couldn’t let her make that mistake you made by leaving your family aside. You don’t want Emma to be like you.

“(Name), please don’t-”

“You can’t keep ignoring them forever.” You cut her short, speaking directly to her now. “You can’t keep ignoring Draken either too. You’re miserable.”

“I’m fin-”

“Emma no.” You snap at her, finally having enough of her stubbornness as anger swells up in you. “I see how sad you look everytime you look at your pictures with your big brothers and Draken. Do you think that it’s healthy to keep ignoring them like this?”

“You were the one they hurt, you shouldn’t feel bad for them-”

“It doesn’t matter! I don’t matter!” You yell desperately, now pulling away from her grasp in an attempt to put your foot down. “They are the ones who matter a lot. Those are you family members! People who love you and have protected you for years! Just talk it out with them! They miss you for god’s sake!”

“What the hell do you mean you don’t matter?” Emma roars back at you, suddenly enraged by your outburst. You nearly stumble back at how angry she sounded, fear creeping into your skin as your verbal claws retract. “You matter to me! You mean the world to me as any of them do! You’re my best friend and I love you and if they don’t understand that then there is nothing to make up for!”

By the time she was done yelling, her breathing was heavy and her eyes so intense you couldn’t even stare at her. Your eyes quickly flickered to your feet instead; scared of seeing the disappointment on her face and terrified of her anger. You didn’t like it when Emma yelled, it reminded you of your mother getting angry at you, something you hated doing to her.

Eventually, she took a deep breath and took a step closer to you, her hand intertwined with yours. “Come on, I’ll help you shower.”

You silently follow behind her, eyes downcast and shoulders slumped.

  PERHAPS Izana should be angry at Emma.

It would be justified after the words she said from her mouth, but he can’t because he knows the truth. Emma was just angry as well and she didn’t mean any of the words she had said to hurt him. She said them because of you, however and he realises that every fight they’ve had is over your presence in her life.

Which meant that the true culprit was you.

People may believe in love at first sight, but from the first day Izana set his eyes on you, he could only feel hatred towards you. You were just there, sitting awkwardly while Emma tried to involve you in their conversation and it irked him.

At first, Izana thought it was the fact that the both of you were clashing personalities that made him feel that way, but then you keep getting in his way and ruining things for him. He hates everything about you - the way you picked your finger when you were nervous. Your bright smile you gave to only Emma and how easy it was for her to like you. Just your mere presence in general was enough to set him off because of how simple it was for you to be close to Emma while you barely knew her. It felt like he was losing his only sister to a stranger, and now the Emma who stands in front of him is a mere mockery of his real sister.

And that’s the frustrating part. He can’t do anything to hurt you. He’s smart enough to know that if he does, Emma would never forgive him.

“... Kurokawa, are you here with us?”

Izana snaps back to reality as Kisaki taps the table three times to get his attention. ‘I might have spaced out.’ He thinks to himself before facing the entirety of the table; Tetta Kisaki, the rather shrewd and ruthless dealer sitting, his equally irritating lap dog Shuji Hanma and the little shit that he called his younger brother, Mikey.

Speaking of Mikey, ever since that day he made that phone call and revealed his brand new plan of accepting you into their friend group, he’s been very quiet. Even throughout today’s meeting, he hasn’t said a word, aside from mentioning that Draken was going to be absent and asking where Kakucho was before the meeting began.

And knowing his brother, a quiet Mikey is a suspicious Mikey.

Now that Izana thinks about it, he’s noticed that Mikey, who was on his side initially had suddenly switched to trying to apologise to you. Which was weird, considering how egocentric Mikey could be on the topic of apologising. Izana has his suspicions, but then again Mikey is unpredictable due to his rather dark impulses, so he couldn’t really say anything yet, until Kakucho came back from his task.

Izana cleared his throat and faced Kisaki again, deciding to be as honest as possible. After all, it’s their fault that he’s in this mess, might as well remind them. “Just thinking about how Emma practically called me a bastard and I’m supposed to be okay with it.” He said nonchalantly and the air in the room shifted into an uncomfortable silence for the upteenth time this week ever since that unfortunate day. It isn’t surprising to anyone as to why though, Izana’s complicated relationship with the Sano’s is a sore topic that no one ever dared to bring up.

From Kisaki’s tight lipped expression, Izana is sure that the younger male is picking his words carefully in his head. Even Hanma who would have laughed or said something to intentionally piss off Izana remains silent. Eventually, Kisaki lets out a resigned sigh. “The audit would be done another time.” He states in a cool tone, putting his laptop aside before facing the two brothers. “It’s obvious we’re not gonna do anything useful until you resolve this issue with Emma and her friend.”

“Really?” The white haired male mocks, causing Kisaki to shift in his place, an irritated frown creasing his face. “would you like to hear my pla-”

“We’re not going to kill a civilian and draw attention to ourselves, Izana. I’ve already told you what to do.” Kisaki snapped back, his yellow eyes darting from Izana to Mikey, before narrowing in irritation. “Both of you. Just apologise to (name), it’s not that hard. You don’t even have to mean it, the girl won’t even know the difference-”

“Ah yes, cause that went well the last time.”

“And whose fault is that? I clearly told you to say “I’m sorry” and all you did was make things worse!”

“I’m just brutally honest.” Izana spits back. “And you can’t blame me because I tried, compared to Mikey who sits on his damn ass and has done nothing-”

“I wasn’t the one who called her a cheap hooker!” Mikey interjects defensively, sitting upright after staying quiet from the start of this meeting, finally saying something.

“Oh, so you can speak.” Izana retorts back, his voice cold. Mikey is so good at shifting blame onto others for actions he has a hand in, especially when he knows it would reflect badly on him. Unfortunately, Izana has been in this game longer than his little brother. “I thought you had gone mute with the way you don’t want to talk about the issue beyond pushing me to apologise to her.”

“You don’t make it any easier with how you talk to people.” Mikey hisses back, his tempo rising with each word, but Izana can hear the slight shake in his voice, almost as if he’s hiding something. “How am I supposed to do anything if you keep saying shit like you’re glad (name)’s gone?”

(Name)?

The entire room falls silent at Mikey’s sudden outburst, or rather what Mikey had just said. No one says a word as they all stare at Mikey in shock, eye wide and mouth hanging open like he’d grown two heads. There’s a glimmer of confusion in the dark eyed male before the realisation of his mistake washes over him, his facial expression changing into a mixture of guilt and pure terror.

As if he’s been caught doing something he shouldn’t have.

It’s unmistaken. Izana knows his brother is hiding something and it has to do with you. “You’ve never,” he starts slowly, never taking his eyes off Mikey, gauging his facial expression. “called her by her name. You only call girls who you had something to do with by their name.”

“I-”

“You fucked her, didn’t you.” it’s a statement, not a question. Mikey grows pale and it's more of a sure answer than anything else at all.

“I didn’t do anything bad… she’s still a virgin-”

“What.” Kisaki, interjecting as well, cuts him off, his voice cold. “Did. You. Do?”

Mikey is silent. It’s brief and doesn’t last long as he finally seals his fate with a quiet voice. “It’s not my fucking fault, she wore a short skirt and she was asking for it-”

At the side, Kisaki crumples back onto the dining table seat, his head in his hands muttering a quiet “Oh fuck, I should have stayed with Osanai.” as he shakes in disbelief. Hanma just sits there, clearly perturbed, not knowing how to react but at the same time, not really interested.

“Glad to know I’m not the only screw up.” Izana scoffs as well. Despite how cheery his voice sounded, the furious look on his face says a different story altogether. “Since apparently you’re just as stupid as I am.”

Mikey runs a hand through his golden locs, frustration evident on his features. No one has ever seen him look so frantic, like a little kid who broke something and is trying to hide it. “I didn’t do anything wrong. Sure she said no at first but I knew she wanted it when she relaxed in my touch-”

“That’s not what Emma’s gonna think, you idiot!” Izana barks at him angrily, his temper finally off the rails. “You practically threw away your entire plan before it even started! All for what? Mediocre pussy you could get from some other girl? And you know how Shin is about this shit. If Emma finds out and tells him, we’re screwed!”

There’s a mixture of emotions swirling in Izana right now. The urge to punch Mikey was strong, for daring to not only lie to his face, but also making him look like a fool to cover his ass.

Then again, he knows it’s really not Mikey’s fault but yours. You must have done something to make Mikey hurt you because he knows his little brother doesn’t hurt girls. You have this effect of turning people into worse versions of themselves, making them disgusting, evil and hateful.

You turned Emma against them and now you made Mikey’s dark impulses come out.

It’s you that’s the problem.

“So what anyone find out? They won’t believe her” Mikey snarls back, irritated. “She can’t blame me, I told her to fucking leave but she didn’t listen! She was practically begging me to fuck her-”

“ENOUGH!”

Kisaki’s voice is loud enough to silence the two brothers, ending their argument instantly as they breathe heavily from their prior screaming match. Izana slumps back on his seat as Kisaki sits up straight, eyes narrowed. Mikey does the same as Izana, his jaw tightly clenched as he crosses his arms on his chest, feet crossed. The younger male clears his throat, and starts to rationalise the situation.

“It’s obvious that we’re going to switch gears since this happened. We all have a curated reputation that we need to protect so that people don’t nose into our business.” He turns to Mikey who is still glaring hard at Izana. “Your brother has a point, you fucked up our plan by not telling anyone what you did-”

“You judging me too, Kisaki?”

“Can you stop being defensive for once Mikey and just listen!” Kisaki scolds, just about done with everyone making things more difficult for him. “I don’t care what you did to her, whatever affection or lust you have for her is a you problem. I just want this situation to be in our favour.”

The statement makes Izana scoff in dismal fashion, but he decides to ask out of curiosity regardless. “And how do you intend to turn this situation around? Cause right now she has leverage over us and any careless move can put us in a tougher spot than we can handle.”

Kisaki turns his attention fully towards Izana again, a knowing look on his face as he asks. “Is Kakucho done searching Mikey’s car?”

‘How did he know?’ Izana blinks, but then catches Hanma smirking and doesn’t bother to ask his impending questions. Kisaki always had a nasty and suspicious habit of continuously tailing him specifically, and usually it doesn’t go over Izana’s radar when it happens, apart from this instance. Which meant someone was being a rat in his group.

He’ll deal with that later.

Mikey raised a brow in confusion as well, opening his mouth to protest the invasion of his privacy when Izana’s phone suddenly rings. He picks it up, attempting to step out to answer it when Kisaki raises his hand to stop him.

“Answer it here.” Kisaki said, ignoring the way Izana looks at him like he has two heads. “and put it on speaker.”

He had no reason to comply, but he wanted to see where Kisaki was going with whatever plan he had. With a wry smile, Izana put the phone down on the table and slid the answer button, putting it on a loudspeaker.

“Did you find anything Kakucho?”

Ever loyal, Kakucho clears his throat and starts to speak, his voice sounding strained over the phone, as if he’s struggling with something. “Yes boss.” He answers, a twinge of nervousness coating his tone. “There’s a dash cam on the mirror and a spy cam underneath the compartment facing the passenger’s seat…”

Mikey grumbles under his breath something about fucking Kakucho up if anything ends up spoilt or missing in his car but Kisaki holds his hand up to his lips and shushes him. Izana continues once he’s sure his brother is done complaining. “And did you confirm the anonymous tip that we got?”

He can hear Kakucho shift uncomfortably, the silence on the other side of the phone drawn out until he finally says. “Boss, it’s too … I don’t think we should use this against her.” He tries to reason. “I think we’re going too far-”

“Perfect.” Kisaki chimes in, now looking at Izana with a satisfied smile. Kakucho is about to ask why Kisaki was there but Izana cuts him off instead. “Bring it back. I’ll explain once you come to the house.”

“Okay boss.”

The phone line dies and Kisaki, fairly confident in his plan, looks at Izana once again. “I’m sure you know where I’m going, right?”

Izana may think Kisaki is a pathetic brat who just happened to be smart, but right now, it’s like the both of them are connected and in tune with their thoughts. The tanned male stretches his lips into a smile, one full of malice and at the same time, glee, his eyes light with mirth when he realises what Kisaki was thinking.

Finally a plan he could follow along with.

“Alright, I’m all ears.”

THE walk back to your dorm was quiet.

By the time you managed to catch a bus after spending the entire day looking for a job and getting back to campus, it was already late in the night. Save for only the street lamps that were beginning to dim, everywhere else was darker than usual.

You had read that there was going to be a lunar eclipse tonight between the hours of 10pm - 00am. The time boldly written on the bus’ digital clock before you got down was 10:45pm, so you already assumed it was the cause of the unnatural darkness tonight.

A long time ago before the world weighed you down, things like this would have made you excited. You loved watching the stars when you were young, trying to check on the papers your father bought to see if there was any space news available. You remember borrowing your immediate elder brother’s binoculars as a makeshift telescope, trying to piece out the stars in the sky or see if you would catch a glimpse of the comet that was said to pass through that week.

Unfortunately, you were young and foolish. Wanting to impress your father, you told him all about your book of constellations that you drew up, detailing the first star that appeared every evening, down to your crazy childish theories about aliens and space.

“Can you show me the book?” your father asked calmly. You should have known it was dangerous for your father to be this calm, but you were too blinded by excitement to think and you gave him the book, a bright smile on your face.

Your smile fell as his large hands ripped your book into shreds, before telling you: “Women don’t dream.”

Maybe that was the day you realised the love you craved from your father will never be given to you. You were so young and impressionable, all you wanted was for him to be proud of you, like he was with his sons. Now, you can’t even look at the stars, the memory leaves a bitter taste in your mouth and you try to shake it off as you continue on the path.

You wondered what grievous sin you’ve committed to be so down on your luck like this. Today had been one disappointment to another

You passed by Emma’s dorm building, a sigh escaping your lips. She told you that Draken wanted to take her out for dinner tonight, which shocked you because friends with benefits - according to what Emma herself told you- don’t go on dates or do lovey dovey stuff with each other, to avoid complicated feelings from budding.

Then again, their relationship is based on the fact that they both have feelings for each other, but Draken was not interested in a relationship.

It was already complicated before it began but at least she's taking your advice and talking to them again.

Your eyes darted up to her window, hoping her lights were on. Whenever she was alone, Emma hated sleeping in the dark. She said it reminded her of the times her mother would lock her and Izana in a dark room whenever she brought her customers in. Anytime she was in a darkened room, she told you she could still hear the sound of her mother moaning and a man grunting. Izana would try his best to distract her, playing games or even stealing an earphone and plugging it to his own so that she would listen to music instead of what was going on.

A frown graced your lips when you saw two bodies from the curtain, one tall figure you recognize as Draken and Emma’s smaller dainty figure perched on him, kissing. You quickly averted your eyes and walked faster, ignoring the unfamiliar pang in your chest. Maybe you’re jealous because you needed your friend’s comfort right now and she wasn’t available. You felt greedy for this, after spending a week with her, you should let her be free.

‘She has her own life to live. And I have mine’ you muttered to yourself as you trudged along the path, slowly dragging your feet. ‘I have to stop being so dependent on her.’

Eventually, your thoughts drift back to your reoccurring dream. Losing your job made you realise that if you didn’t do anything about it, your tiredness would eventually catch up to you and ruin everything else you’ve worked for. With an important test scheduled for tomorrow, you knew you could not afford to take another loss this week. You had to power through your sleep tonight, even if it traumatised you.

‘Maybe I should pretend that I like it. Pretend it’s okay and enjoy it so that I won’t have to wake up.’ You shook your head, cursing as you drew closer to your own dorm building. ‘Oh God, how far I’ve fallen. Look at me trying to enjoy a disgraceful act-’

You paused in your tracks at the sound of a leaf crushing. You quickly turned around, trying to ascertain who could be lurking there behind the bushes. Your palms started sweating, your nerves firing at the thought of being watched.

Silence.

You decided to continue walking, assuming that maybe you were hearing things and there wasn’t anything at all. Nighttime always had a way of making you nervous, especially with all the horrible stories you heard about innocent women being attacked around these times. Besides, looking around for whatever may be lurking was a dumb idea.

You should just get out of here.

Eventually, you make it to your dorm house in record time, a sigh of relief escaping your lips. ‘Maybe I’m being paranoid. But at least I’m safe now.’ You think to yourself as you push the door open, closing it behind you.

Weary from the day’s stress, your body starts to give up on you but you push through, trying your best to just make it to your room. You’re sure you would just collapse on your bed the second you got there and forget about anything else.

But as you reach for the handle, a feeling of dread washes over you, the same one you felt when you were outside. ‘I really need to let this go. There’s no harm waiting for me. It’s just my room.’ You mutter to yourself. Your overthinking has cost you a lot, from your job to your academics and right now, you really need it to stop. Pushing whatever feeling was keeping you away, you walked into the darkened room.

You finally make it to your room, about to rummage your bag for the keys when you notice the door was unlocked. ‘Oh? Ami must have come back rather early, since I barely see her until 2am.’

(From here is edited)

The first thing that greeted you was the stench of some kind of smoke -weed, the kind that Ami liked to use whenever she was in the room. You always hated the smell and you recall telling her to leave the windows open whenever she wanted to smoke. Coughing, you quickly covered your nose and mouth with one hand and reached to turn on the light with another. “Ami, how many times have I told you to open the window whenever you smoke? You know I don’t like the smell-”

Your blood turns to ice the moment light floods the room, your mouth dry as you stare at the man perched on your reading chair, a leg crossed over the other, the weed blunt hanging between his tanned hands. His lips are stretched into a sick grin, showing all his teeth, purple eyes shining with an odd mirth as he glances at you up and down.

Izana Kurokawa.

‘Run’

You don’t need to be told twice, quickly discarding your bag and running towards the direction of the door, only to hit someone hard, standing tall in your way. You look up fearfully to see mismatched eyes, a scar running down his face and flinch backwards in reflex. It’s as if he gazes at you with pity, but quickly switches to a blank stare as he stands between you and the door.

You know him from hanging around Emma a lot in the Tenjiku frat house, Kakucho. He’s always around Izana and only loyal to him for some reason that you don’t know. He doesn’t listen to anyone else, not even Mikey. You realise that he might have been the one that was following you when you were walking home.

Begging him to let you pass would be futile.

“Don’t worry, I’m just here to have a little chat with you. I’m not going to hurt you.” His tone is calm, but it doesn’t bring you any comfort. If Mikey could hurt you without any remorse, then there’s nothing stopping Izana from doing worse to you. “And as much as your backside is as interesting as your face, I prefer talking to someone who is looking at me.”

“I don’t want to talk to you.” The words fly out from your mouth before you even think of a more appropriate response but it doesn’t seem to give him any form of reaction other than a dry laugh.

He scoffed. “I don’t care. Turn around.”

Reluctantly you slowly turn to face him again, your body trembling as your fear filled eyes lock with his. Your heart drops to your stomach when you hear heavy footsteps walk out of the door, shutting it behind you, locks turning and trapping you with Izana.

‘Oh God oh God oh God.’

Your fear doesn’t go unnoticed by the white haired man, and he only chuckles at how stiff you were. Between the two brothers, you know Izana thrives in fear, using it to his advantage and it’s not unfounded. Notwithstanding his backing from Black dragons, Izana had taken Tenjiku from a down and out frat house, to a den of crime that holds power, trickling right into the administration of the university. Even his men know better than to ever get themselves in his bad books, because no one can ever escape him, no matter how much you try to run.

It was only a matter of time until he would make you pay for causing him problems, but you didn’t think he’d come by himself. You felt stupid for thinking he wouldn’t care about you or he’d forget how angry he was at you and leave you alone, especially with Emma still not on speaking terms with them.

He motions with his bunt for you to come closer to him and you comply, taking careful steps until you’re standing right in front of him. He eyes you again with a tepid frown. “When you meet a king, you don’t stand before him, you kneel.”

Kneel. You want to assume he’s not serious but you know better than to question him and go down on your knees, focusing your gaze firmly on your lap. It’s humiliating the way he has you at his mercy, without even moving an inch but it’s better to be compliant than to aggravate him even further by being disobedient.

You’ve learned the hard way what could happen if you resist.

From the corner of your eyes, you watch as Izana puts out his weed blunt on your reading table leaving a sorching mark on the table, before reaching behind his waistband. Your mouth grows dry the second you see the gun, your heart pounding against your chest as he presses the barrel to your head.

‘Oh god.’ You gasp as he presses it further against your head, until you’re sure it would leave an indent. ‘He’s going to kill me. He’s going to kill me…’

“That’s odd,” He murmurs. “Usually, other people would be begging for their lives when met with a gun to their head, but you’re quiet. If not for the way your hands are trembling, I’d think you weren’t scared.”

This time, with a gun pointed at your head, you’re careful with your words. “Y-you said you won’t hurt me.” Your voice shakes with fear but you continue. You know men like Izana, he reminds you of your older brother who ruled the house apart from your father, with fear and control. Sometimes, when you were able to stroke his ego, he’d go easy on you. Maybe that would work on Izana too. “That you want to talk.”

“And what if I changed my mind? Pulled the trigger? That’ll make my life easier, yeah? I won’t have to fight for my sister’s love and affection with you.” 

Your breath hitches in your throat when you hear the safety go off and watch as his finger curls around the trigger. ‘Oh God, he’s going to kill me. He’ll shoot me dead. I-i have to say something- I don’t want to die-’

“I-i trust you not to do it.” You reply, your lips trembling as you struggle not to think of your head scattered into pieces on the floor if he chooses to kill you. “You’re a man of your words.”

There’s another complete silence that engulfs the entire room, until you hear a click that makes you flinch for a split second, waiting for the bullet that would end it all. Instead, it’s him putting the safety back on, and chuckling at your reaction.

“You trust me? How foolish.” He laughs, tracing the gun from your head down to underneath your chin and forcing you to look up at him. You’ve only read about people with empty eyes in stories, but seeing it in person was so terrifying. “Is that why you ended up with Mikey in his car?”

All the blood rushes from your head to the tip of your toes. “H-how do you kn-”

“I have eyes and ears in this school, (name).” You’re sure it’s the first time you’ve heard him call you by your name and despite being in a life or death situation, you couldn’t control the shiver that ran through your spine. “You wanted him to touch you, right?”

“T-that is not what happened!” You suddenly cried out, trying to explain your own side of the story. Of all the people who know your dirty and shameful secret, Izana is the worst pick, just your luck. “It was a mistake! I tried to tell him I didn’t want it but I couldn’t-”

“Ah ah -” Izana cuts you off, tilting your chin higher with the gun. “Don’t lie to me. You must have planned the entire thing to make Mikey look bad”

“No! I wasn’t trying to do anything, I just wanted to talk-”

“Really? Cause Mikey told me an entirely different story-”

“No, no I- didn’t… -”

“You were dangling yourself like a piece of meat for him to fuck and he’s a man, you know. He has urges and it's hard to resist temptation.”

“That’s not true-” your lips start to tremble at his words, tears forming at the corner of your eyes. You didn’t want to be assaulted, you just wanted to talk to him about the Emma issue and you wanted to apologise. “That’s not true-”

“Oh but it is.” He said firmly, now leaning in closer to your face until there’s barely any inches between the two of you. “And now Mikey feels like a piece of shit because he couldn’t stop himself.”

“No-” your voice is small, trying to defend yourself but even you are beginning to doubt your own credibility with how he keeps twisting the narrative around until you begin to actually believe him.

‘No! Don’t let him make you think you’re in the wrong! You know what happened!’

“He even told you to leave but you refused to. You were baiting him to just do something to you so that you can tell everyone how bad Mikey is and make yourself get more sympathy points. Am I wrong?”

“No! I would never do that to Mikey!” You don’t realise your tempo had suddenly gotten high or that tears had started to drip down your face, but Izana did. He doesn’t point it out, staying quiet as you start to shout at him. “I would never bait him into hurting me! I just wanted to make up with him because I felt that I overreacted at the party I swear! And then he touched me in the car -”

“And you never reported him to the school authorities? Why? Did you want to blackmail him for money-”

“Because I love him!”

The words flew out of your mouth before you could even stop yourself from saying them.

Your heart drops as a mischievious glint appears in Izana’s eyes. His smile drops slightly, still maintaining the gun on your chin. “You love him?” He says slowly, testing out the words on his lips. “Love? Mikey?” He looks so deep in thought, like the concept sounds so foreign to him that he almost can’t believe it. His gaze falls back to you again, a quiet scoff emanating from his lips. “You really have no shame, do you?”

Unable to maintain eye contact with him, you break away from his gaze, biting down on your lips to prevent yourself from falling apart. When you don’t respond, Izana takes your silence as an opportunity to keep talking. “If you love him so much, then what’s wrong with what you both did in the car that day? It was what you wanted, wasn't it?”

“Not like that…”

“But you claim to love him.” Izana is calm and cool, while you’re stuttering on your words, making you look like you’re the one who is wrong. Like what you’re saying doesn’t make any sense to begin with and he’s the one saying something of reason. “And yet, you didn’t even notice he wasn���t himself that day. Or did you take advantage of his fragile state of mind?”

“I would NEVER-”

“You would, because you get to be the so-called victim and he gets to be the villain in your own story. Do you really know the implication of your actions?”

“That’s not right.” You don’t even realize how quiet you’ve gotten, your voice full of uncertainity. “I didn’t … it’s not…”

“Shut up.” He cuts you off again with a firm tone, tapping the gun on your chin gently to enunciate his point. “The reason why I haven’t put a bullet through your head as much as I want to is because I love Emma. I love Emma so much I’d kill for her and I’d resist the urge to kill for her. That’s how Sano’s love. That’s true love. That's something you'll never ever experience.”

You stay silent, trying to understand what exactly Izana was calling love. He leaned closer, making you feel even smaller. “If Emma finds out, she’ll think Mikey intentionally hurt you and she will hate him. But I guess that’s what you want, isn’t it?”

“Never. I don’t want her to hate him” your inner voice telling you it’s not your fault, is nothing more than a whisper, the feeling of guilt and shame overtaking you until you’re almost suffocating. “I just want them to be happy…”

“Then you know exactly what you’re meant to do, right?”

Of course you know what to do. Ever since you were child, it’s been drilled into your head. Whenever your brothers hit you a bit too hard or your father went overboard with his belt and you ended up in the hospital, your mother would take you aside to issue a warning that still rings in your head. That had terrible consequences if you refused to follow through with it.

You nod weakly. It really doesn’t matter what is right and wrong when it comes to the Sano’s, but what they want. Izana taps the gun on your chin again, shaking his head. “I need a verbal answer.”

“I won’t tell anybody what happened. Especially not Emma.”

Satisfied, he withdrew his gun from your chin and your face falls onto his lap, unable to support your head any longer. You feel a hand reaching down to pet your head, like you were a dog who had just been tamed by her new owner. The strength to push him off or stand up had left you, feeling drained as the weight of guilt settle down on your shoulders, heavily. You know you shouldn’t believe anything Izana says, but then again he does have a point. Maybe you should have been more receptive of Mikey’s touch or at least be polite about declining him instead of shoving him off and hurting his pride.

You feel so utterly powerless. Despite being wronged, you know there’s nothing you can really do to save yourself. You don’t think you can bear the traumatic experience of being an outlier again.

Mikey. You don’t want to hurt him. You don’t want anyone thinking he’s a bad person over a singular action.

'Maybe it’s not as bad as I think, I did enjoy it mid-way, so it should count as something. Right?'

You feel sick just trying to think about it.

“You know, if you’re this obedient, we can get along just fine.” He hums, breaking the silence as he pets your head gently. You hate yourself right now. How easy it is to do whatever it is that you’re told because disobedience is not an option. “I’m sure you wouldn’t want to know what I’ll do to you if you break your promise.”

“No” your voice is quiet. You feel tired, sick maybe, you don’t know. Maybe it’s the weed he smoked earlier affecting your judgement and reasoning. Or it’s the lack of sleep that has made it difficult for you to think straight or stand up. Either way, you don’t care. “I don’t.”

“Good girl.”

Bonus:

You know he’s mocking you, but you accept it, like you do with every circumstance thrown at you.

  IZANA looks down at your sleeping figure with a curious gaze.

For a moment, he almost pities you. Despite the faint glow of the room lighting, he can see the dark circles underneath your eyes and how stressed you look. For someone who is actively working to pay her fees while sustaining herself with no one caring for her, it must be hard being abandoned by society.

He can see why Emma picked you to be her friend, she always had a trait of picking up stray animals who had no one because she wanted something to protect. It’s no different with you, the way she’s so fiercely loyal to you and why she wanted you to be accepted by their family. No wonder she was hurt when you were vehemently rejected by them.

If he had a conscience, he’d feel bad for you. You love Mikey, of all people, someone who only saw you as a nuisance and to push the blame of his actions onto. All those times Mikey was cruel to you must have hurt the most because you truly cared about what he thinks about you.

He’s careful when he lifts your head from his lap, not wanting to wake you up. He puts your head on the chair and turns to leave, already overstaying his welcome. He’s done the thing he was supposed to, ensuring you stayed quiet about Mikey’s actions and there’s no need for him to be here any longer.

As he walked to the door, his mind goes back to you. In a way, you and him were similar. All alone, unwanted, with nobody in the world to care about you, cold, uncaring parents who didn’t think twice in terms of abandoning you both. The only difference between you and him is that he grew a backbone and you haven’t. You’re like a kicked dog who continues to stay on the ground to get kicked, in hopes the person kicking you stops eventually.

As long as you stay on the ground, people like him will keep kicking you.

He knocks loudly on the door and the locks turn. Kakucho opens it for him, peering inside with a worried gaze, his eyes settling on your body slumped over a chair.

“Did you hit -”

“I didn’t touch her.” Izana snaps at the taller male, stepping out of the room properly. “She’s fine, physically at least. Emotionally she’s a mess. But that’s Mikey’s problem to fix.”

“Huh?”

It wouldn’t hurt to tell Kakucho your little secret.  “Apparently (name)’s in love with my dear brother Mikey so she’s keeping quiet what he did to her.” a cruel smile stretches across his face. “How pathetic.”

Kakucho frowns at Izana’s statement, but as usual he doesn’t say anything in response. Instead, his eye darts back to your form again, taking a good look at you, his eyes softening. Ever the gentleman.

“She shouldn’t really stay like that Izana, she’ll get a stiff neck-”

“Kakucho.”

That was enough to end the conversation.

special thanks to: (please turn on your mentions in 'settings' before filling the form.): @officiallyjaehyuns @haikyuusboringassmanager @ilybbg @merrymerrykiss @cockonoi @Rindou24689 @short-cxke @kokoch4n3l @GenAwi @ryuguji-sana @nuyoo @reiners-milkbiddies @kiwixpi @gh0stgirl333 @brisssaaa009 @fushiqruo @kawaiikoalagarden @damidamimongalam @raven-nevra @ilovetwodmen @kodzubaby @straightfromheaven @manchie55 @pikibee @tomeyano @matchamilktea-05 @tenjikusstuff4 @m0onz1 @hapikiou @rainnyzz @Lovelyartistz @lik0 @maraya-007 @thisismarisaaa @reeyy0-2 @littlemisspropaganda @cherie026

[melrodrigo]

music nerds

Jenna Ortega x Fem!Reader

Summary: Jenna stumbles upon a tiny vinyl shop, and thinks the employee is mighty cute.

A/n: here it is nerds, my first jenna fic. Was in a silly goofy mood, I miss my babygirl so.

It started at the vinyl shop. You, rearranging the different records into the correct sections, stood humming absentmindedly to the tune of the song playing.

“How’s my favorite employee of the month doing?” Your coworker (and best friend) Harry pipes up, leaning on the shelves opposite you.

“You can stop calling me that, we both know the only reason I got crowned this month was because you missed six days and I had to cover for your ass.” You mumble, slightly annoyed. It had been a long day, with customers shuffling in and out without ever buying anything. It didn’t help that the only customers Harry attended to were girls he thought were cute.

He nudges you a little, trying to prompt you away from rearranging the vinyls.

When you don’t answer, he huffs a little and then makes his way to the back—no doubt about to take a nap—where he’ll stay until closing time.

You sigh softly, shaking your head.

Even though you loved Harry to shreds, you hated being his coworker. He could be trusted with nothing.

You move over to the next section, swaying a little to the tune, losing yourself in the music.

You’re aware of the jingle of the bell that indicates someone has entered as you shuffle through the records.

They could take care of themselves for just a few minutes, you reckon.

Soft footsteps sound from behind you, and the sound of someone putting a stop to the music makes you frown. Then, there’s a tiny scratching noise before the melody of I am Controlled By Your Love by Helene Smith sounds through the tiny store.

You can’t help the tiny smile that envelops your face; and the surprise that echos through your mind. You’d just found out about this song, while scrolling through a playlist someone had made for your celebrity crush, Jenna Ortega.

Apparently she liked the song, if you remembered correctly from watching one of her interviews passingly.

“Great choice.” You tell whoever put it on, still not turning to face them.

“Thanks, I’m surprised this place has it. I’ve been looking for weeks.” A girl answers, and it sounds vaguely familiar.

“Well, we sure do. One of the best vinyl stores in the country if I do say so myself.” You smile, finally finishing tampering with the discs and turn to your customer.

It takes everything in you to not gasp out loud—standing in front of you was the Jenna Ortega.

You feel your hands grip the shelves just a little tighter, and you prayed to god that Jenna didn’t see the blush very quickly climbing up your neck.

“One of the best, huh?” She smiles, and you swear you could feel your heart physically melt.

She looks, if not better, exactly like in the pictures. It’s surreal, this person you see almost everyday on your phone, standing in front of you.

She’s wearing a black turtleneck sweater and some baggy jeans. There are sunglasses blocking her eyes, maybe to try to avert attention, but you could tell in an instant who she was.

You think she knows too, by the way she’s smirking a little.

“Yeah, and there are a ton of artists just like the one you just put on, at the back corner over there.” You point with shaky fingers, cursing yourself for looking so stupid.

She nods and disappears further into the store, and you breathe out in relief.

Holy shit! Jenna Ortega!

You place a hand over your heart, reminding yourself to be normal and check if you’re still breathing.

“Uh-I’m sorry. I couldn’t find it. Where did you say?” She pops her head out from one of the shelves, cocking her head to the side.

You grab your bearings, determined to not make a fool of yourself.

You were an employee. Just an employee helping out a confused customer.

“It’s hard to find, believe me I know.” You smile reassuringly, sauntering over to where she was standing.

“Here, just follow me.” You say, weaving through the maze that was this tiny vinyl store.

She bumps into you a few times, saying a soft sorry as she does. You placate her worries with soft it’s okays everytime she does.

“Ahah! Right here. My pride and joy.” You beam, getting used to having her so close and relaxing.

“What would you recommend?” She muses, flicking through the artists.

“Well, I’m a Beatles girl myself,” You tell her, looking over the records, “but I am a sucker for The Mamas & The Papas.”

She raises an eyebrow at you, and you hold your hands up in defeat.

“I know, I know! I’m a mainstream whore.” You say before you can stop yourself, something definitely inappropriate to say to a customer.

Jenna lets out a little giggle, fast like she can’t help herself.

You take the opportunity to keep talking, since she seems interested in the music over here.

“But, there is another artist somewhere here, I think you’ll like.” You wink, then mentally face palm yourself.

You turn back to the records in order to hide your expression, finally finding the guy you were looking for.

“Frank Zappa.” You explain as you hand it over to her. “An instrumental.”

She looks at it thoughtfully, inspecting the album art; then looks up at you and smiles. Her brown eyes make you want to cry and scream, but you keep your composure.

“You have nice eyes.” She murmurs, eyes flickering over your face. Then, just as fast, she turns away and walks back the way you came.

“What just happened.” You breathe once she’s out of earshot, carefully walking back to the cashier.

She’s waiting, texting someone on her phone.

When you slide up behind the counter, all flirty smiles, she tilts her head.

“Took you long enough.” She teases, scrunching her nose in embarrassment unconsciously.

You stutter endlessly, trying and failing to come up with an excuse. It all comes out in one jumbled poor excuse of a sentence that you try to cover up with a cough.

You slide her things over and scan them, not daring to look at her probably smug face.

“That’s all.” You say, somewhat bashfully, stealing a glance back at her.

Her eyes flicker with something you can’t quite place, but something you can certainly feel. Warmth envelops you whole, your knees turning into jelly.

You put her stuff into a plastic bag, hand them over, and bite back the hitch of breath when your hand grazes hers.

She bites her lip thoughtfully, shifting on her feet. The bag is in her hands now, she’s free to leave.

But still, she stands there, looking like she’s thinking very hard about something.

You try and prompt her out of her thoughts, murmur a quiet, “Anything else?” and watches as she takes out her phone and pushes it to your side of the desk.

“Yeah. Your number.” She squeaks, blushing a faint pink. She clears her throat and says it again, in a tone deeper than before.

It takes absolutely everything in you to keep your mouth shut. It desperately desperately wants to drop, not quite computing what is really happening.

You take it before she can change her mind, quickly jamming in your number and taking a quick photo for the profile.

She beams as you hand it back to her, not bothering to stop the cheeky satisfied smile that wants to take over her lips.

“I’ll see you soon, yeah?” She asks, and you nod adamantly, forgetting all pretense of chill.

“Right. Uh huh. Super!” You call out as she makes her way out the door, shaking her head at your dorkiness.

“Holy shit!” You yell this time, breathing out a huge sigh of relief you didn’t even know you were holding.

You’re rooted to the spot, afraid that if you move you’ll wake up and this’ll all be a dream.

“Wha-What happened?” Harry comes tumbling out the back door, plastic baseball bat in hand.

You lock eyes with him and let yourself fall down into the nearest chair, all wild eyes.

“I just got Jenna Ortega’s number!” You tell him, letting your hands run through your hair, happy and stressed.

His eyes narrow, then he shoots you a lopsided smirk.

“Sure you did.” He says, letting the baseball bat fall beside him, guard down.

“No Harry, she really came in here! And asked me for my number!” You yell, exasperated.

You can tell he doesn’t really believe you, but all it takes is one good look at your face, all white and red at the same time, and he’s widening his eyes comically wide.

“No fucking way.” He gushes, sliding over to sit beside you. He practically preens over you, all questioning eyes.

“Well what did you do?” He pushes, waiting for you to elaborate.

You tell him the whole story, slightly reveling in his reactions. He never fails to make you laugh at his comments.

“So…what now?” Harry asks after a minute, raising his eyebrows.

You sigh. “I don’t know, I guess I’m gonna have to wait for her to call me. Who knows how long that’s gonna take.”

“Well, you better be ready for her when she does. Oh my god we so need to do a makeover.” He rambles, turning on his phone to look at hairdressers nearby. You lean back into your chair, overwhelmed.

For now, you’re worry-less. Jenna Ortega just asked for your number, and you think you couldn’t be luckier. The only thing to do now was wait, and so you do.

[puckinghischier]

Boyfriend!Nico Headcanons

these pics are gonna get me everytime, i fear

just some soft nico thoughts floating around in my noggin. enjoy :)

-

- boyfriend!nico coming home from morning skate and tiptoeing into your room, careful not to wake you so he can lay back down and nap with you

- boyfriend!nico waking up about an hour later to an empty bed, huffing because you didn’t wake him up, only for you to walk in the room wearing one of his t-shirts carrying two cups of coffee, a grin breaking out on his face

- boyfriend!nico suggesting you both shower together, even though he showered at the rink, simply because he loves when you wash his hair (and so he can use your products so he can smell fruity like you do)

- boyfriend! nico asking girls that approach him when he’s out with the team or on the road where they get various parts of their outfits/jewelry because he can’t stop thinking about how good you’d look in them, writing every store down in his notes app so he can take you there the next time you two go shopping

- boyfriend!nico who looks for you in the stands of every home game during warm-ups, needing to know you’re there watching before puck drop because he swears you’re his good luck charm, but also looking for any and every reason to impress you when he’s on the ice

- boyfriend!nico who buys you a custom jersey with his name and number on it, but with small four leaf clovers embroidered on each sleeve so everyone knows you’re his good luck charm, not the team’s

- boyfriend!nico who enlists jack’s help in surprising you with the golden retriever puppy you’ve been begging Nico to agree to adopting, making the poor kid drive three hours one-way to pick up the dog and then sneak the puppy into your shared apartment so Nico can keep you distracted and occupied, wanting to see your face when you open the door and the little furball comes running towards you

- boyfriend!nico who rushes through every post game interview he can because all he wants to do, win or lose, is go home and watch whatever current netflix show you’ve roped him into while eating whatever take-out you were in the mood for that night

- boyfriend!nico putting you on speaker in the locker room before games because the team overheard one of the pre-game pep talks you gave him earlier in the season, so now they all like to hear your encouraging words and how well you inspire each and every one of them to play their best (what jack refers to as your mrs. cap duties)

- boyfriend!nico who has to explain to his teammates why he can’t bring you along to every event the team has to go to because you have your own job and responsibilities, only for the team to whine and grumble about how nico hogs you and they never get to see you (just for him to facetime you halfway through the event so he can pass his phone around for everyone to say hi a few of them asking you to blink three times if nico was holding you hostage)

- boyfriend!nico who arranges for flowers and various treats to be delivered to your door every. single. day. that he’s gone during the season so you know he’s still thinking about you and he misses you, even if he only leaves for a day or two

- boyfriend!nico who listens to the playlist you’ve made for him anytime he’s traveling because he loves hearing whatever new song you’ve found that day that reminds you of him

- boyfriend!nico who begs you to take a bath with him because he’s so sore from a nasty hit earlier in the night and wants to just relax with you and your peach smelling bubble bath with one of your vanilla scented candles burning (but he’ll never admit he loves your sweet, scented candles)

- boyfriend!nico who will always trade a puck or a stick for anything that a fan brings as a gift for you, heart swelling seeing that the fans love you as much as he does

- boyfriend!nico who always wears a wrist full of friendship bracelets you make for him at warmups so he can trade them with the female fans that bring handmade bracelets for the players, so “they always feel included and welcomed at the games, despite what the grumpy old men have to say about it”

[jlheon]

౨ৎ — hair dye (sjy)

pairing. bf! sim jaeyun x fem! reader synopsis. you and jake decide to get matching hair colors genre. est. relationship fluff wc. 1241 notes. if jake goes red maybe i will too! library.

you were a force to reckon with. once you started dating jake, both of you paired together made for many impulsive late-night decisions.

just as tonight did.

it was nearly 2 am when you had sat up from bed with a ‘brilliant’ idea.

you and jake were not sleeping yet, the sunset lamp you purchased was still on to illuminate the room.

you had brought it over since you spent more time at jake's house than at your apartment.

you two mindlessly scrolled on your phones, enjoying the comfortable silence.

“baby why are you up?” jake mumbled, his arm locking around your waist to bring you back to his chest.

“you would do anything for me right?” you asked, looking down at him and brushing some hair strands off his forehead.

“of course,” he sat up next to you, taking your smaller hand in his. “where is this coming from?” his eyes shone with slight worry.

“would you dye your hair to match with me?”

and that is all it took for you and jake to get in the car and drive to the nearest hair supply store. for some reason, your hair supply store was thankfully open when you arrived.

letting out an exhale in relief as you and jake came up upon the ‘OPEN’ light sign, he opened the door and ushered you in first. mostly because neither of you even considered checking if the place was open.

“hi ____! nice to see you and..?” liz, the cashier, greeted.

she had known you as a frequent customer due to your tendency to get bored of your hair quickly.

“hi liz! this my boyfriend jake! we’re looking for some red hair dye enough for the both of us.” you explained, tugging him along when liz led you down an aisle.

“this should be enough!” she handed you a large bottle of developer, which jake quickly took off your hands.

the three of you walked towards the checkout to get ringed up. before liz even finished scanning all your items jake had already taken his silly minion card out to pay.

“ikeu it was my idea, you should have let me pay.” you huffed, settling into the passenger’s seat while he made sure you were buckled properly.

you had no idea when he started checking your seatbelt but he had been insistent ever since he started.

you told him multiple times you could buckle yourself but he said it made him feel more at ease. so who were you to oppose?

“you know that as long as i have money i’ll never let you pay baby,” he said, turning on the car engine, and driving back towards his apartment.

when you reached his building the sky decided to downpour.

making jake run to the passenger’s side to get you so he could wrap the both of you in his jacket and make a run for it.

once you had made it inside you both were completely drenched. sharing many giggles in the elevator, due to you calling him a puppy after a bath. he was just so cute.

unlocking his door he got himself changed into a new set of clothes and got you one of his old t-shirts to change into. picking shirts he wouldn’t mind getting dirty. grabbing some towels from the bathroom so you could start your hair dye escapade.

you sat on the bathroom counter, jake standing between your legs, putting the red dye all over his hair.

you made sure to wear gloves as you had an afternoon lecture the next day and didn’t want it to look like you killed elmo.

jake basked in the fact you were continuously carding your fingers through his hair.

sliding off the countertop when you finished his hair, you kept your gloves on. letting him help you do the back of your head while you handled the front.

he purposely got some on your neck, the coolness of the dye making you shake. in spite, you reached up to put some on his ears.

the acoustics of the bathroom amplifying your shared giggles, which you tried to lessen due to sunghoon being asleep in the room next door.

the soft sounds of your playlist filled the room while you both sat on the bathroom floor with a 30-minute timer for the dye to set in.

the alarm on your phone started to vibrate, signaling it was time to wash your hair.

since you had did your boyfriend's hair first he had to wash his out first. you put on another pair of gloves and had jake lean over the bathtub so you could rinse out the product.

the water from the faucet turned a bright red once hitting jake's hair. you used shampoo and conditioner to make sure jake wouldn’t sleep without the soft hair you loved to play with.

after you checked his hair was fully washed, you had him dry it with a towel as a hairdryer would most definitely disturb sunghoon’s slumber.

you had laughed once you switched places, jake now washing your hair, since he forgot to wear gloves his hands quickly turned a bright shade of red.

he didn’t even bother correcting his mistake, not minding the staining that would last for a couple of days at least.

as both of you dried your hair in front of the mirror you admired your matching hair.

smiling at how quickly he agreed to do his hair just for you.

he saw you grinning at him in the mirror and leaned down to kiss all over your face, rambling on about how the red suits you perfectly.

brushing your teeth and cleaning up the mess of hair products around his bathroom, you both finally headed to bed.

jake slipping into the spot next to you, engulfing you into a hug and intertwining his legs with yours.

by now it was nearly 6 am the sun was starting to peek out.

despite the sunlight creeping into the room through the cracks in the curtains, you both were knocked out like lights.

at around 9 am sunghoon waltzed into jake’s bedroom ready to ask him if he and you wanted anything for breakfast.

only to be met with a lump of blankets and red-stained hands peeking out from under the covers.

“OH MY GOD JAKE WHY ARE YOU COVERED IN BLOOD!” sunghoon shrieked, ripping the blankets off of you both.

triggering you both to tiredly groan. trying to return to sleep, you buried your head in the crook of jake’s neck, letting him deal with sunghoon alone.

“take a look at our hair hoon,” he rasped out.

“oh i see…�� sunghoon lied. “it’s..?” waiting for someone to finish his sentence.

“it’s red hoon.” you deadpanned, shooing him to get out.

“OH! looks awesome guys! when did you do it?”

“at 2 am, now get out.”

“you are so cranky jake,” sunghoon pouted. “i guess i’ll only get ____ breakfast on my way back from class.”

“no please hoon i am so hungry..” jake pleaded.

“all you get is a slice of untoasted toast.”

“isn’t that just bread?”

“he will take whatever you give him just let me go back to sleep oh my god.” you groaned, flipping over.

“goodnight baby,” jake said, wrapping his arms around your waist to spoon you.

“it’s morning,” sunghoon commented.

“get out hoon.”

“finee,” he sulked, closing the door behind him.

[corroded-hellfire]

Prompt Day 19: In the Garage

Word Count: 977

Rating: T

Pairing: Eddie x Reader

CW: Language

Summary: Eddie gets a nice surprise at work when you come in with a car problem.

Thank you to my darling @munson-blurbs for helping me when my mind was blank ❣

@corrodedcoffinfest

Eddie always stays in the bay with the cars when he’s at work. The only reason he would go into the office portion of the garage is to clock in, clock out, or use the bathroom. Yeah, he had been trained on how to do intake at the front desk when customers come in with car issues, but why would he want to do that? Why stand in the same spot for hours, listening to the boring smooth jazz coming from the speakers, and talk to people about their car issues?

When people try to mimic the noise their car is making, he can never decide if he wants to laugh or grit his teeth so hard that his jaw shatters. That would at least get him out of the conversation. 

The whole reason Eddie became a mechanic is because he’s good with cars. People, not so much. Give him a torque wrench and a spark plug gapper and he’s good to go. 

But one day, Eddie decides he really wants to work inside, behind the counter.

Eddie closes the hood of the jeep he was just working on and pulls the red rag hanging over his shoulder down so he can wipe some of the grime and grease off them. It’s impossible to get it all.

Music is playing on an old radio shoved into the corner of a workbench. Over the pounding bass, Eddie hears a car door slam in the parking lot and his head turns in that direction. Through the open bay doors Eddie sees the most beautiful girl he’s ever laid eyes on. 

“Whoa,” he mutters under his breath. 

His dark eyes follow as she walks across the parking lot, towards the front door inside.

Eddie practically hops over a Subaru as he rushes to the door that will lead him into the same space as the beautiful woman. 

There’s already someone working the front counter as Eddie gets there, the beautiful woman headed their way.

“Brian, go ahead and take a break. I’ve got this,” Eddie mumbles to his coworker. 

Brian, in his late fifties, only has to look up from the desk to understand why Eddie is trying to usher him out of the way. He chuckles and steps back, allowing Eddie into the space.

“Good luck, son. Let me know when my impromptu break is over.”

Eddie nods, eyes widening in an attempt to tell Brian to get the fuck out of here. Luckily, he slips into the back just as you approach the counter.

“Hey,” Eddie says before mentally cursing himself out. Hey? That’s all I’ve got? God damn it, Munson, pull it together. 

He’d gone into fight or flight mode when it came to being the one to assist you and not given one damn thought about what to say to you.

“Hi,” you respond with a smile that almost makes Eddie’s knees buckle. 

“So, uh, what can I do for you?” Eddie asks. He certainly means that in more ways than one.

“My engine temperature gauge is all the way on hot,” you explain, hooking a thumb over your shoulder, in the direction of your car. 

Your car isn’t the only thing that’s hot, Eddie thinks. 

“Yeah, that’s no problem,” Eddie says. “I can take a look at that for you.”

His mind scrambles for a reason to ask for your name and phone number—when he remembers that’s his role right now, to get your information. Unfortunately, that would make him seem like an absolute creep, not to mention unprofessional, to use your intake form to hit on you. Asking you out would probably also venture into unprofessional territory. The thought disheartens him before a potential loophole springs to mind. When you come to pick up your car, you technically wouldn’t be a customer anymore. That should also give him a few hours to come up with something cleverer to say than, “Hey.”

“Alright, we’ll give you a call when it’s done,” Eddie says.

“Thanks.”

You turn to leave, and Eddie is caught between being sad you’re going away and enjoying the view as you head towards the door. But you stop before you get there and step over to a bulletin board hung above a drinking fountain. 

Eddie sees you looking over a flier for his upcoming Corroded Coffin show at a new bar and he perks up in excitement. 

“That’s a great band,” Eddie says.

“Yeah?” You turn your head to look at him in question.

“Oh, yeah. The lead singer is great. I mean, really amazing. He also plays lead guitar. Not to mention the great hair he has.”

Eddie does his best to keep a straight face and leans forward, resting his forearms on the counter. An amused smile quirks your lips as you slip your hands into your back pockets. 

“Huh. And is he maybe a mechanic during the day?” you ask. 

Now he can’t hold the smile back any longer. He ducks his head and licks over his lips, seeing if he can school his face back into neutrality, but it’s in vain. With a shrug of his shoulders, he looks back up and meets your eyes.

“He might be.”

“Hmm,” you hum thoughtfully. “Then I agree. He does have a good head of hair.”

Eddie’s smile beams even wider. When’s the last time he’s been this happy at work?

“You should swing by. Check out the show,” he offers.

You pretend to consider it, tilting your head from side to side as if you’re thinking it over. 

“I think I’m free that night,” you say. “And since this lead singer is so good, I guess I’ll check him out. Them. Uh, I’ll check them out.”

Eddie didn’t think he could smile any wider than he already was, but your slip-up does the trick. 

“He looks forward to it.”

[iamsuckateverythingtobehonest]

Between The Wall

Pairing: Sagau!Aether x Reader

Summary: Aether finds solace in the voice, he once hated and now loves.

!Warning!: First Time Writing, might be bad!

Part 2/3

"—Argh...! Stop it, Aether!" you scream in frustration, putting down your phone on the bed with an annoyed face.

it's been a few weeks since you started to play Genshin Impact after being tempted by your schoolmate to download the game. They already told you the gist of what you should know before starting the game itself.

But, they never mention about this game has the main character a self-aware implement into their character.

At first you notice the way Aether's face scrunched up in discomfort after the prologue. It makes you creep out but then you remember that your schoolmate has told you about a few of their self-aware elements, though they just told you about their reaction when you cancel their movements by jumping.

You assumed that your schoolmate probably wants you to experience it by yourself which is nice but a head up would be great too.

"Gacha game? more like a horror game." you snicker as you continue to play on your phone.

As time goes on, Aether's 'behavior' becomes worse. From making a lot of negative responses to you controlling him, now he even tries to defy your control over him by doing the opposite of what you want from him from time to time.

"Aether, you little shit! Stop swimming in a circle and go back to the shore repeatedly!" you shook your phone like crazy, and there was a small smile curled on Aether's face making your anger flame harder.

"T-this game is shit!"

While anger consumes you, you log out from the game.

You sigh leaning back to your gaming chair as you spin around on it before standing up, moving to your door, and walking down the stairs to grab some water.

because of this problem is the reason why you are slowly about to snap and quit this game.

You arrive at the kitchen, open the fridge, grab a small bottle of water, and quickly drink it up.

While doing so, you heard a rapid clicking on a keyboard coming from your sibling's room. A curious look on your face before you slowly walk to their and casually open the door by the knob.

There you see, your sibling screams while her finger moves steadily on the keyboard before slapping her hand on her table in frustration once she loses.

"GODDAMN IT!" Your sibling shouted, it looked like she had died fighting in the Spiral Abyss, no wonder.

"Calm down," you shook your head, walking inside to stand by your sibling. "You will wake Mom up from her sleep at this rate."

They turns to you, "Oh, you, sorry," she slowly calms herself down and sighs.

"This level just gets my shit up to a hundred, who told Hoyoverse that this is fine, all I wanted was the Primogem." They grumbles.

You softly rub her back with a small smile, "It's still many days left until the limited banner is gone, I am sure you will get em."

They put down their headphones, "Talk about it, what AR are you now?"

"Well, it's, I think...AR 23 or more..." You thought absentmindedly.

"That's quick," your sibling mused, "How is your experience so far as a beginner?"

"Well it's fun, I love the world-building, the colour, the gameplay, and the Ui..." You trailed, listing what you liked about the game until an irritated look appeared on your face that made your sibling perk at it. "Except for Aether!"

Your sibling flinched at your outburst before she raised a confused eyebrow at you, "Aether? The traveler?"

"Yes!" You grip your hand into a fist while seething in anger. "I don't know why they implanted such a feature, Like every time I try to play, he gotta need to defy my game control, it's creepy! He used to follow me but now he keeps making ugly faces at me like excuse me!"

"I really, really hate him!"

You keep rambling about your frustration with the traveler which leaves your sibling gaping.

"I don't think they have that..." Your sibling uttered out.

"Well, I did! And it needs to stop!"

"Do you contact Hoyo Customer Service? Is it probably a bug?" Your sibling suggested.

"I did but they never replied." You said crossing your arms.

"They probably will get back to you, one of these days since I am sure they have many people to attend to." Your sibling reassured.

"I hope so,"

Your sibling then chuckles, "But I don't think you would hate him for so long."

You frown with an eyebrow raised, "Why so?"

"They're gonna be a certain quest when you reach AR 28 or above which gives more lore about him." She elaborates.

"I don't think I would." You squint your eyes.

"Well the fact you still using the Traveler despite the bug he has, say so." She snickers, "Just give him a chance, hate the bug instead of him."

You scratch your cheeks and sigh, "We will see."

You decided to give the game, a second chance.

"Aether, don't you think...you being too mean to the Creator?" She whispered scratching her cheeks floating, looking down on Aether crouching down inside the bushes.

They currently watching over a couple of boars walking with Aether having his sword in his grip.

Aether glances at Paimon before smiling, "Well, it's not that bad, it's a small price for them to control my body." He turns his attention back to the boars.

Paimon deadpanned, "What a lie! You just did that so they left early!"

He doesn't respond and just quickly dashes out from the bushes and thrusts his sword onto one of the boar, quickly he pulls back the other sword and slashes the boar sprinting toward him.

Quickly he used his Anemo ability to pull back the almost-escaping boars and slashed them in one go.

Blood splatter on his face, outfit, hair and his swords.

"Ah," he wiped the blood on his cheeks with his thumbs, "I need to get better at dodging the blood-splattered," He said out loud.

Aether suddenly flinched and turned his body to see another boar is running up to him.

"Hi-ya!" Paimon shouted, hitting the boars with a rock on the forehead. "Don't you dare to attack Aether!"

Aether blinked and smiled, "Thanks for the help, Paimon."

Paimon perks up and throws away the rock somewhere else, "Hehe, you're welcome~ praise me more~" she giggles happily.

"Now calm down," Aether chuckled.

Aether then gets to work after cleaning himself with a towel to cut the boar meat, one by one.

After that was done, Aether decided to sit down to open his notebook, and start writing some alphabet and spelling again.

Paimon sits down beside the Traveler, watching the letter he wrote with knowing looks.

"Is that the Creator's language?" She asked, quietly after watching her surrounding.

Aether nodded, "Yeah, I managed to decipher some of it."

"Oh! What is it? Let me see!" Paikon excitedly asked and leaned over to look at it.

Paimon curiosity slowly turned into a horrified look, "Did the Creator say that?"

"Yeah," Aether said amused at Paimon's reaction, "surprising huh?"

"There is a lot of cursing! Outrageous mean word!" She blinks rapidly, "The Creator has very interesting wording..."

"Most of the curse directed at me, I am not surprised." He smirked.

Paimon looks at Aether's face still has a smile and a fond look on his face. "You like them?"

Aether stops writing, "Huh?" He turns to Paimon.

"The Creator! Do you finally like them?" She excitedly asked.

"No!" Aether quickly stood up and took a step back, "Ain't no way! I just tolerate the Creator better than before!"

Aether is very obviously in denial with his cheeks adorned with pink blush, averting his eyes.

It's very true that Aether slowly but surely started to understand the creator, whether their language and their intention choosing him as a vessel.

The first word he managed to decipher is 'love' from the Creator's language, it's when Aether has fallen from the Statue Of Seven that the Creator for some reason controlled him to do so.

He had a fatal injury caused by that, and while he was whimpering in pain, he heard the Creator change of tone.

Aether's eyes widened, and he looked up at the sky, the creator rambled a lot but he could hear the concern and care for him which gave him goosebumps

"...Aether!$%-#&#!"

Aether perks up again when he hears his name between the rambling and his eyes widen more.

"...Aether&%$%...love#%#&#-!"

His lips parted when he understood the word, Aether's cheeks burned red and his eyes turned hazy.

He doesn't realize what happening to him but Aether for sure has stopped functioning at this time.

Aether shook his head from his flashback and continued to scribble some more. His ear is red as his scribbling becomes faster but much to his chagrin, the scene keeps playing in his head.

Paimon, who watching at his side had a small smile adorning her face. 'Aether surely has grown to like the Creator and that's good.

Both of them will stuck together until they reach their intended goal, they are both important to me, so please help each other."

Paimon hands intertwined. together to prayer, eyes closed with her forehead leaning to her clasped hands.

Until it's snapped open, Paimon turned her head with a frown. 'Who?'

She scanned the surroundings when she sensed something wrong again. 'Behind that tree." Paimon narrows her eyes.

She was about to move and check it out but suddenly Aether stood up which gained Paimon attention back to him.

"Aether? Why are you standing?" She called moving to him, "Where are we going?"

She tilted her head when Aether didn't answer her which was odd until she moved in front of him.

There she sees Aether standing still with his eye twitching in irritation. 'Ah, the Creator is back.'

Paimon smiles sympathetically at Aether.

Aether's body then quickly moved in a sprint which made Aether's eyes wide with Paimon followed in tow.

As they move away, neither Aether nor Paimon didn't realizes that someone is watching them from afar behind a tree, the arrow they grip in their hands is put away.

The unknown eye glints with mysterious light, "The Creator..." They breathe.

You are lying down on the bed, empty and in pain.

There are tears stained under your eyes, your eyes are red from crying so hard for a long time. Akin to a person on the brink of death gate and barely gripping onto life.

"i can't believe it." you hiccup, "Lumine, why are you doing this?! Reunite with your brother, come on!" you shout in frustration, kicking your feet into the air.

You just recently finish the 'We will be reunited' quest and it broke you down from the inside hard. You are mad at Lumine but at the same you try to understand her but what actually fueled to your anger against her is Aether.

After the quest, Aether's face have trail of tears and hurt plastered that you didn't have a heart to do anything that often making you in verge of crying. Often you have started to not using Aether, in hope his expression will be better but it just become worse and you even begun to miss his smirk from before.

Everytime you try your best to help the boy even though it's probably a waste of time. After using him back again for daily mission, his face become focus like he try to pull his mind away from the events. It's like he try to move on, his expression look so real which should not be possible since Aether is a character game.

"I can't seem to leave him alone," You rub your eyes and slowly calming yourself down. Getting up from the bed you reach for your phone and open your messaging app.

After a back and forth messaging with your sibling and friend, you finally come to conclusion of what to do now.

You get back with soda and snack by your side as you open up Genshin Impact in your phone with a determined face.

"I can't believe that I am doing this for a game character that I hate..." you mutter as you sigh before focusing to the screen again.

"My money..."

"OUR MONEY!" Paimon scream, "Why are the Creator even use it to but a freaking expensive firework!!" she whined into her hand.

"We could use it to buy more Sticky Honey Roast!" She cried out, step onto the ground pr air repeatly.

Aether just sigh, "Well we can't do anything about it," he keep jogging forward to somewhere that even he doesn't know with the Creator controlling him. "We will gain it back in no time, so don't worry so much Paimon."

"Okay... but where are we even going?"

Aether narrow his eye as he climb up the boulder, "Hm...I don't know but this place seem familiar."

The more they walk and climb, the more familiar the surrounding area looks, Aether is now crouching down to set down the firework under a cliff before his body starts to sprint up up to the cliff where from there, he could see Mondstadt.

"Are the creators trying to light fireworks in the morning?" Paimon wonders out loud, "What the point? It's not even night!"

But then a miracle happened, the day quickly went back to nighttime time and both Aether and Paimon's eyes widened at the sight.

The sky that once had a sun on its landscape now has a moon and star decorating It.

At the right time, the fireworks shoot up into the air and burst into many colour.

"Wow...." Aether breathed out in awe.

"Aether..."

Aether suddenly glances at the sky when he hears the Creator speak his name. Each word the Creator utters makes his heart skip a beat, flushing red and his eye sparkling.

"....With this, I hope you will cheer up a little bit."

A trail of tears goes down his cheeks as the Creator's words end. He can't understand some of it but the way his heart thumping, he just knows for sure that.

Aether has fallen in forbidden love with the...

Creator.

[lyranova]

Nozel x reader fashion au where reader is a fashion designer and maybe nebras friend? And nebra calls reader to make a suit for nozel and that's how they met? You can continue the story with creative liberties❤️❤️

Oh and congratulations on 900 followers!!!

Hiya anon, thank you so much! I apologize for the wait, I did incorporate the first half of your request, but I decided to have Nozel and the reader already in a relationship since I couldn’t quite figure out a good scenario for them to meet in with the suit 😅. But I still hope you enjoy~!

Word Count: 1,695

Warnings: None

————

“ Listen; I have a big favor to ask you-!”

“ No.”

“ Oh come on just hear me out!” Nebra Silva groaned on the other end of the phone, making you sigh and shake your head even though she couldn’t see it.

There were two types of favors Nebra would ask of you; one was that you design a custom outfit for her at a discount, and the second was that you design an outfit for a friend of hers for free.

Which one will it be today, you wondered.

“ Fine, I’ll hear you out,” You muttered as you quietly set your pen down. You could hear Nebra excitedly clap her hands on the other side of the phone, which made you smile a bit.

“ Alright! So, I want you to make a suit for my brother, Nozel,” Nebra began quickly, and your breath hitched in your throat.

This…was a gift for Nozel?

“ His birthday is coming up and I wanted to get him something special, which is why I called you! You’re one of the best designers in the world, there’s no one else I would trust to make a perfect suit for him!” She told you quickly.

“ So, will you do it? Please?” She begged, and that’s when you knew just how much this meant to her.

Nebra Silva never begged, and she most certainly never said ‘please’.

You sighed and pinched the bridge of your nose.

“ Alright, I’ll make the suit for him,” You said as you picked up your pen again and began to start some preliminary designs. “ I’ll send you some sketches by the end of the week. Oh, and I’m charging you full price since it’s a complete suit.”

“ Thank you~! I’m sure it’ll be perfect, and if it’s not then I just won’t pay you,” Nebra said with a chuckle, but you knew she was completely serious with her words.

You sighed again and shook your head, and just as you were about to hang up she suddenly asked a question that made your heart stop for a moment.

“ Oh, but don’t you need Nozel’s measurements to start sketching?” She asked, her tone curious.

You were quiet for a moment, your brain going a mile a second as you tried to think of what to tell her.

After all, how did one explain to their friend that the reason they weren’t asking for their older brothers measurements was because they already had them due to…reasons?

“ I don’t need his measurements right now; so you can just wait and give them to me later.” You explained quickly, hoping that your friend would accept that and not ask anymore questions.

Nebra hummed curiously for a moment, making your palms sweat and your heart race anxiously.

“ Alright, I’ll try to get Solid to get his measurements tomorrow so I can send them to you,” She said, and you couldn’t help but let out a very quiet sigh of relief.

She bought it…at least for now.

After saying goodbye and making a promise to meet later in the week, you hung up the phone and sighed dramatically before resting your head on your arms.

“ Is something wrong?” A familiar voice asked behind, his tone curious but also laced with concern.

You slowly turned your head to the right and saw Nozel Silva standing there; a towel in his hand as he tried his best to dry his dripping silver locks, his normally braided bangs hanging loosely between his eyes.

Your gaze traveled down to where his usually loose, grey t-shirt now tightly clung to his body; and where his white pajama pants with grey stripes rested loosely around his thin waist.

You groaned as you closed your eyes and moved your head away, how on earth was your boyfriend of over a year able to make even the most casual of clothes look so good?!

“ What’s wrong?” He asked, his tone sounding more concerned as he walked over to you, he set his towel down onto the table before he placed a hand on the back of your chair and the other on your arm.

“ Nothing, it’s just…work,” You muttered, not bothering to lift your head. Nozel’s eyes slowly drifted towards your sketchbook, a critical hum escaping him as he picked up one of the designs.

“ Who is this suit for?” He asked curiously as he raised a thoughtful hand under his chin.

You sighed and raised your head slightly.

“ A very picky client.” You muttered, not daring to give away Nebra’s identity, or who this suit was meant to be for.

He nodded solemnly.

“ I see, I completely understand since I also have my fair share of picky clients,” He admitted with an irritated shake of his head. “ Should I talk to them?”

You shook your head and waved away his concern; the last time he had talked to one of your clients he had completely scared them off!

“ It’s alright, I can handle them on my own,” You told him softly, but your voice was full of gratitude and a gentle smile worked its way onto your face.

Nozel nodded, and you swore you saw a hint of pink on his cheeks.

“ Then, would you like me to help you with these sketches? That way the problem client can’t cause you more problems?” He offered, his eyes still locked on the sketchbook.

You hummed in thought; one the one hand you wanted it to be a surprise, but on the other you thought it might be better that he at least give some input into his own suit.

“ Sure, have a seat and tell me what you think,” You told him, and he nodded before doing as you requested.

You watched Nozel anxiously, looking for any positive or negative expressions; but as always he kept his face neutral, serious, and very focused. He never gave his thoughts away, which both intrigued yet frustrated you.

“ Is this what the client requested?” He asked as he began flipping through the pages, you shook your head.

“ No. This suit is supposed to be a surprise for someone else,” You explained as you fully lifted your head and rested your chin in the palm of your hand. “ I’ll get more information later this week.”

He silently nodded.

The anxiety came crawling back as you waited for his verdict; surely the designs weren’t that bad?

After a moment Nozel set the sketchbook down and looked at you with a serious expression.

“ These all suck,” He told you bluntly, and you swore that you felt an arrow shoot you through the heart.

“ Well that hurts.”

“ Would you rather I lie in order to spare your feelings?” He asked with a raised brow, and you shook your head.

As much as it hurt, you would rather he be honest about his critiques; not only was this suit being made for him, but also because you valued his input as a senior Fashion Designer.

“ No,” You admitted with a sad sigh.

“ Hand me a pencil.” He instructed, and you frowned in confusion but did as he requested.

He took it with a small nod in thanks before he began scribbling and making notes on your sketches.

You watched him silently, the only sound in the room being the scratches of the pencil against the paper. But instead of feeling anxious in this silence like before, you felt this…calmness take over you.

You always loved watching him work; the way his eyes would narrow as he focused, the way a small smile would work its way onto his face as the design came together, and the way his purple eyes would glance up at you to see if you were watching him…

Wait, that wasn’t something he normally did!

You felt your heart skip a beat and your face heat up in embarrassment at having been caught staring. Nozel chuckled softly but didn’t say a word as he went back to your sketchbook.

After another moment he handed it back to you and stood up.

“ I have an early day tomorrow, so I’m going to bed first,” He told you softly as he walked over to stand beside you.

Nozel placed a hand against your cheek, leaned down, and placed a sweet, gentle kiss against your lips. Your heart fluttered in your chest as you kissed him back, your hand reaching up to gently rest against his.

“ Don’t stay up too late.” He told her, his voice quiet but serious, and you smiled a bit.

“ Is that an order?”

“ Yes,” He replied bluntly, making you giggle before leaning forward to place another quick kiss against his lips, making his eyes widen and his face burn.

“ Alright Captain, I’ll follow your order,” You told him playfully, a soft giggle escaping you as you watched your boyfriend roll his eyes at the silly nickname. “ I’ll fix the designs and then I’ll come to bed.”

Nozel nodded before standing up, wishing you a goodnight, and walking towards your shared bedroom.

You let out a quiet, tired sigh and reached out to grab your sketchbook. Better get started on his corrections, you thought.

But much to your surprise, when you opened the sketchbook you didn’t see any corrections; instead you saw tiny little notes.

Positive and encouraging notes…

As your eyes scanned the pages slowly, you felt your heart fill with warmth and love. Nozel wasn’t the best at expressing his emotions and telling people how he felt about them; at least not verbally.

Whether it was through little notes like this or through his clothing designs, he was much better at expressing himself through his art and writing.

And that was one of the many things you loved about him.

You gently closed the sketchbook, stood up, and walked into the bedroom where you slipped quietly into the bed beside Nozel. You wrapped your arms around him, quietly thanked him for the encouragement, and told him that you would make the best suit, most impressive for your client because of it!

He chuckled, rolled over, and sleepily told you how he couldn’t wait to see it as he wrapped his arms around your waist.

—————

Thank you all so much for reading and I hope you all have a good day~!

[fluffysucker]

Battered and Bruising.

Bucky Barnes x Reader (AU) Boxer/Biker! Bucky Barnes x Chef! Reader Part of the Miss Americana & The heartbreak Prince. AKA Bucky and his princess ALL ONESHOTS CAN BE READ AS STAND-ALONE

You received a distressing phone call.

Written in Third POV. No use of Y/N. However, the reader is referred to as a female. Likes, comments, reblogs are VERY VERY highly appreciated. Opinions really matter to me.

Also I'm very bad at describing places. Please forgive me. Hope it's clear to picture.

Main Masterlist

You couldn't sit still. You kept squirming and fuzzing in the taxi's seat. You were sure the driver was giving you dirty looks, afraid you would wear down the material of his vehicle. But you couldn't care. You were close to biting your nails off. You were so worried. Anxiety filling your body like the darkness of the sky at midnight. Tension running through your muscles and veins like water in oceans.

It was supposed to be a normal day. just like any other.

You woke up to the feeling of soft kisses on your neck and strong arms wrapping tightly around you, pulling you closer than you were already. Sweet words filling your ears with your boyfriend's sleepy voice.

You lived for mornings like this, which is why you wouldn't be able to recall the last time you woke up alone in bed. It was either your place or his. A drawer in each of your dressers is now officially dedicated to the other's stuff. Pieces of each of you were spread at each other's homes. Because you became each other's home. Bucky was itching to ask you to move in together, but he was waiting for the right time.

After the blissful morning you shared together at Bucky's place with breakfast and your joint getting-ready routine, you left to start the day. It was a big bonus that both of your workplaces were separated by a wall. It gave you both a lot more time to spend together. Not only did you get to arrive and leave together, but you also got the chance to sneak in and see each other whenever you liked. You were lucky.

The minute you stepped in, you had so many things to do. Customers were following your tail as you walked in. Your business was growing, and you could never complain. As the day carried on, you got busier and busier. However, that didn't stop you from checking the time every now and then, so you didn't miss it. You would be sad if you did.

So when it reached five o'clock, you were throwing your apron off and leaving the restaurant. Ten minutes wouldn't hurt anybody.

You opened the gym's door and greeted MJ, who will be taking on the receptionist role since Peter was going with them tonight. You reminded yourself to stop by and drop off some food for her in a couple of hours. Maybe even a dessert.

Once you walked into the main area, your eyes were scanning the place for the person you came for.

"He is the locker room." You turned around as you heard Sam's voice.

"We could have left an hour early, but he refused. I wonder why." The smirk on Sam's face was big. Of course, he knew why Bucky didn't want to leave earlier than he told you.

"Have a good day, Sam." You walked towards the locker room with a smile on your face.

Bucky and the others had their own locker rooms other than the ones for the regular gym attendees. It was the one in the very back. Bucky chose it for privacy reasons. And since you got together, he had been enjoying this choice more and more.

As you were about to knock on the door, it was opened by Steve, who was walking out. A smirk, just like Sam's, found its place on his face as he saw you. Both men enjoyed watching their best friend being so head over heels in love, who was making them all wait for you because he never wanted to see the somber look on your face like he saw it once when he left before you stopped by. Never again. Everything could wait for you.

Steve stepped aside, letting you get in, and closed the door to give you both the time you needed.

Your boyfriend had his back to you as he was zipping up his duffle bag. But your sugary perfume and the smell of hours of cooking made him turn around. He would never miss your unique scent. the one that put him at ease and soothed his being.

"Hey, princess." He started walking towards you, and you met in the middle.

"Hey, you." You wrapped your arms around his neck and reached up to give him a peck on the lips.

"All ready?" You asked, keeping your arms around him.

"Yeah. Did the final training. Had a shower. Got everything I needed. We are ready to go." His arms were around your waist now.

"You are going to be so great. You are always the best." You gave him another peck.

"Just want one last thing." You looked at him, ready to help with whatever he needed.

"My good luck." Bucky easily lifted you up of your feet, kissing you passionately.

This is your routine now. Whenever Bucky had a fight, you would show up and wish him good luck before he left. He hadn't lost one since.

You were happy with this routine. Bucky was still strongly against you ever watching him fight; while you disagreed, you knew it was his choice, and you respected that. So you enjoyed whatever he gave you.

In return, Bucky let you in more. He brought you to some of the team gatherings and hangouts. He wasn't surprised when your sweet self managed to win all his friends over. They loved you. Who could ever meet you and not love you? Bucky certainly wasn't the one to answer this. And you loved them. Your ability and capacity to love everyone didn't exclude the rough people he thought of as family.

While he refused to let you anywhere near the brutality he called a job, Bucky learned to compromise. So he started opening up. He started telling you about his days, fights, and sometimes opponents more. He knew you worried a lot about him and about the stuff he never shared. So he was trying to find common ground. And if wishing him good luck before every fight was going to put your mind in the littlest of ease, Bucky could do that.

And that was the last time you saw him for the day.

Bucky told you pits and pieces about his opponent today, but nothing much. All you knew was that Bucky was training hard, and he spent lots of late nights at the gym. Some nights, you would close your restaurant and then join him and watch as he trained. Any support you could provide him with, you weren't going to hesitate. even as little as keeping his company.

Your worry about his well-being during the fights was growing each time. It grew with your love for him. And you were madly in love with him.

You busied yourself in the kitchen, letting your emotions under control while you went from recipe to recipe and from dish to dish as you waited for Bucky's text.

Another thing Bucky picked up doing to help ease your nerves was texting you right after the fight. Usually, he would tell me that he was fine and what he was doing after. Whether he was staying and going to Nat's bar or coming back to you, You only joined them in the after-fight victory parties a number of times. Usually, only when the fights were easy. Because parties after big fights weren't just for the team. There would be lots of outsiders, other boxers, and teams. You knew Bucky wouldn't be comfortable if you were there.

So you waited for him. He preferred your place after these kinds of days. You would have a meal ready in the fridge for reheating. The bathroom would be filled with soap and water. Clean, silky-smooth sheets would be in place, covering the bed. everything to help him relax. And you checked on everything before you left for his place last night.

The only thing you had to do now was wait for his text.

But it never came. Instead, you received a very distressing phone call.

That was what led you to where you are right now. Your mind racing, your knuckles white around your bag, and your leg bouncing up and down in the backseat of the taxi.

Stark's property was huge. You couldn't miss it, even if you wanted to. It made sense why it would be so deep into the city. It took a very large space that only such locations offered. The street was all dark except for the neon lights with the name Stark above the entrance. Other than that, it was nearly black.

You were able to work out the figure standing under the lights right next to the entrance. He was pacing back and forth on the pavement. You paid the driver once he stopped as you got out of the cab.

"Peter, what is going on?" With quick steps, you were standing right in front of the young man.

"Is he okay?" The slight shake in your voice was obvious. The question had been haunting you ever since Peter called and didn't answer it the first time.

"Yes," Peter replied, already seeing the worry all over your face.

"Physically, at least." Peter continued. Because if Bucky was okay, why were you here?

Before you could ask any more questions, Peter led you in. The bouncers at the door let you in immediately as they saw Peter. The inside of the place was nothing like the outside. It was loud, bright, and full of people. There were small food trucks, side bars, merchandise stations, and everything. You could see different kinds of sports and entertainment exercises scattered all over the place, with people around. However, the main area of the property was occupied by a huge boxing ring. It had the most people around it. There are lots of people.

You couldn't inspect more of the place as Peter was rushing the both of you to the back area. It was very clear since you got in here that you didn't belong at all. Your choice of outfit and aura were making you stand out among the sea of people. Peter put his hand around the small of your back, respectively, to guide you through the place. He was trying to get you inside as fast as possible. He wasn't as intimidating as Bucky or some of the others. And if anything happened to you, even as little as a snarky comment, Peter couldn't imagine the wrath he would have to endure. To say Peter was panicking would be an understatement.

The breath of relief Peter let out as you entered the back area was audible. The back area was similar to the one in the gym but much larger and busier. Peter led you to the one room in the back, which you suspected was the largest in the place. He opened the door for you, and you had to close your eyes for a second from the contrast of the lightning. The back area was dimly lit, while the locker room was bright white. You got used to the lights, then looked around to find everybody in here.

As Peter walked you in, you could feel the high tension in the room. The first thing that caught your eye was bleeding Peter Quill and Thor. You didn't know Peter Quill that well; you only met him when you met the team and never passed the greetings stage, but you were more familiar and friendly with Thor. And the sight of both big men holding their noses to stop the bleeding, with bruises forming on their faces, was troubling. Lots of the others were trying to help them.

Only did you take your eyes away when Peter kept moving further into the room until you noticed the small room separated from the big one with a door. You found Sam and Bruce talking beside the door. Peter came to a stop when you reached both men.

"Thank God you are here." Sam spoke quickly as he laid eyes on you.

"Sam, what is going on?" Up to now, you had no idea why you were here. Peter rushed you in and then brought you here with no explanation. You could feel your nerves starting to burn from anxiety.

Before Sam could say anything, a sound of something breaking coming from behind the door rang through the place. You shared eye contact with Sam for seconds, and you started to form an idea about what was happening.

You stepped towards Sam, indicating that you wanted to get inside. Sam looked at you, and you gave him a nod to assure him, and he nodded back. Sam turned and knocked on the door.

You flinched, from surprise, as your boyfriend's angry voice echoed around, shouting that he didn't want to see anyone.

However, the door was unlocked, and Steve stood in the doorframe. You couldn't read the hard expression on his face. But his eyebrows softened slightly when he saw you.

The shouting from your boyfriend made everyone wince in their places. You stepped forward to take Sam's place and stood in front of Steve, determination in your eyes.

Steve signed before he moved aside to let you in, closing the door with the three of you.

The room was small. You thought maybe it was for medical purposes, if needed. But you didn't have the time or mind to pay any attention to your new surroundings.

Your boyfriend was sitting on a chair, his head in his hands, grabbing his hair tightly between his fingers, and his breath was short and angry. Brokrn stuff and objects were scattered all around the room.

"Bucky." You called for him softly to make your presence known.

His head shot up. His eyes were red, bruises were all over his face, and his breath got angrier.

"You called her?" His voice was quiet, but it was deep, hiding many emotions.

"You called my girl?" He stood up, keeping his eyes on Steve, not looking at you at all.

"You brought my girl here?" His breath was getting shorter, with every word coming out as a growl.

"Bucky.." You tried to speak and find the right words to say so it wouldn't escalate.

"You made her come here all by herself and walk in here?" He started walking towards you and Steve.

"YOU BROUGHT HER HERE TONIGHT." Bucky shouted, his angry voice ringing in the small room.

Out of instinct, Steve stepped forward to stand in front of Bucky, keeping you behind him.

That seemed to snap Bucky out of the spell he was in. His red eyes are now coated with hurt. His breath stopped for a moment. Frozen in his place, he couldn't help but think of it. Did Steve think he would hurt you? Did Steve think he needed to protect you from him? Did Steve think that even in this state, he would cause you any harm?

It felt like a knife driven deep into his heart. Betrayal from his best friend, who brought you here against all his wishes, and then thought you needed a shield to be in the same room with him.

But no, that wasn't why Steve did it. He didn't want you to see Bucky lose his temper like he did numerous times tonight. Steve couldn't remember whose idea it was to call you, but he could remember the collective agreement that approved of the suggestion. All aware of the effect you have on the boxer. So Steve expected, like the others, that once you walked in and his best friend saw you, all the insanity that was tonight would come to an end.

But Steve should have known better. Bringing you in here would only make Bucky madder, and you would get to see a version of your boyfriend that Bucky tried so hard to keep from you. Steve regretted agreeing to bring you here.

The tension in the room got thicker. The only sound was the heavy breathing of the three of you. You weren't able to see the look on Steve's face, but Bucky's expression was crystal clear.

"Steve, can you give us a minute?" You stepped away from behind Steve, so you could be in Bucky's eyesight.

Steve turned to you with an unsure look on his face, and you immediately rubbed his shoulder to assure him you knew what you were doing.

Steve nodded and left the room silently. Now, it was just the two of you.

While Bucky looked anywhere but you, his eyes moving all over the room, you finally got to look at him. He was in a pair of black sweatpants, his chest left bare, making all the bruises and cuts on his upper body exposed to your eyes.

You signed, your heart breaking at the sight of your boyfriend battered like this. But it wasn't his physical pain that you were only worried about.

Bucky's eyes finally moved to look at you as you put your bag on the nearest table and started to move around, looking for something.

Bucky was confused. He wanted to ask you what you were doing, but he couldn't find it in himself to talk to you. Too many emotions are tormenting him.

Your little, quiet squeals told him you found what you wanted. You moved towards him with the first-aid kit in hand.

You grabbed the closest chair and positioned it in front of the chair, which Bucky was previously sitting on, and pulled a small table closer as well, where you put the first aid kit and started to empty its contents.

"You will catch lots of infections if you don't get the wounds clean." You spoke when you noticed that Bucky was standing still in his place.

"And God knows you become a big baby when you get sick." You joked. You tried to lighten the mood. to tell him that you were here to help. You weren't judging him. You would never judge him.

And he heard you. So, he came and sat back in the chair in front of you. This time, he sat with his back straight so you could patch him up.

You sat in silence, but there was so much hanging in the air between you. You didn't want to push him. You knew he would start talking when he felt ready.

"Who called you?" And he did.

"Does it matter?" You didn't look at him, sticking to cleaning his wounds.

"To me, yes." He regretted raising his voice immediately, even when you didn't move.

"You shouldn't be here." He continued when he knew he wouldn't get an answer from you.

"But I am." You looked up at him.

"And I want to." Finally, your eyes have met since you got here.

"Don't you see it? the damage I'm capable of doing. the chaos I can create. the pain I put others through. The mess I am."

Today's game was cruel, to say the least. Bucky's opponent played dirty. So dirty, that wasn't against the rules. Because this was never mentioned in any rule book. Mental hits.

Bucky's opponent not only studied Bucky's style and techniques so well, but he did some research as well. So, he would be able to defeat Bucky's strength. And he did.

The second he knew Bucky was winning, he ran his mouth nonstop. He brought up stuff that should never again be brought into the ring. Family stuff. Bucky's life before boxing, the team and their families.

It was shocking. Bucky almost lost his footing once or twice. Was this allowed? Well, it wasn't prohibited. Bucky tried to keep his head straight and not focus on the words coming from the man in front of him. However, it was getting harder and harder as the man kept getting more personal.

Until his opponent mentioned your restaurant's name, Every little drop of blood in Bucky's body ran cold. The noise around him became an annoying ring in his ears. And the opponent took his chance and started landing his punches.

Bucky was trying to regain his composure, but the man's words and punches didn't stop. He was talking nonsense about your restaurant, but he made a mistake that he never estimated.

"I heard you got soft because of that place and wanted to know why. I will tell you what. I would go soft for an adorable thing like her. What a shame that you are the only one who gets to ruin her."

That was the nail in the man's coffin.

Bucky was unstoppable. A monster. a beast with no restraints. You weren't a subject to bring into such a rotten place, and that man was going to pay for even thinking you could be involved in this circus.

Bucky only stopped when he heard the whistle and the referee breaking them apart. Bucky knew that if he didn't stop, he would have to face a penalty of sorts. So he did. But the mental troll has already happened.

The team was taken aback by Bucky's actions once they got out of the lights. They saw him angry after fights before. But this was different. He had lost his mind, and he wasn't willing to talk or tell anybody what happened. And he was getting worse by the second that they had to lock him in the medical room so nobody more would get hurt. They had no clue what to do.

And desperate times call for desperate measures.

So here he was, shame and guilt eating him as you were, once again, showing him kindness he had never encountered before.

"I never wanted you to see that."

"I didn't want you to think that I could hurt you."

"Bucky.."

"I would never hurt you, I swear."

His voice got smaller with each word. It was why he never wanted you anywhere near this. so you wouldn't get scared and run away. So you wouldn't see what he looked like when he lost control. And today, he did, and you saw it.

The opponent's voice is still ringing in his ears. He was ruining you. Everyone could see it. You being here just proved it. Because if it hadn't been for him, you would have never stepped a foot in here. Maybe he was already hurting you.

"Bucky." Tears were starting to form in your eyes. You put the stuff down and put your hand on his cheek.

"You can never hurt me. Never."

It was painful to hear the person who became your source of safety and security, the one you relied on the most, think like this.

"The only person you are hurting is yourself, and I can't stand by and watch." It was time you told him the truth.

"You need to stop living these two versions of yourself. You need to stop hiding from me."

"I love you, Bucky. I love you more than I have loved anything in my life. I knew who you were when we met, and it didn't change anything. I still got to fall in love with you."

"Nothing you do is going to change that. I know you think that I won't be able to handle it, but I will, and I want to know. all of it. Everything."

"I don't want you to feel like you have to hide parts of yourself from me. like you have to be someone else. I love everything about you and everything that made you."

"I want you to be able to share stuff and talk about your day freely without thinking too much about it, without keeping parts that you think I won't like."

"I want to sit in the front row and cheer for my boyfriend as he beats people up. I want to get to brag about my strong man." That brought a small laugh from the both of you.

"Nothing is ever going to make me leave or hate you. Nothing. So whatever you think is going to drive me away, it won't. Never."

You meant every word you said. You didn't want to be in a one-sided relationship where Bucky felt like he couldn't be himself. No, you wanted to be his safe place. You wanted to be the person he came to, and poured his heart out. You wanted to take care of him. You wanted him to let you love him. all of him.

"I love you so much that I won't care if you turn out to be a secret assassin."

"You won't?"

"I will bring you the knives in the kitchens."

Bucky thought he couldn't fall in love with you more than he already was. But he was wrong.

Bucky could feel his eyes getting glassy. All his fears weren't real. You weren't going to run away and leave him. You wanted to do the thing he believed he could never have. You wanted to share his life with him. You were giving him something nobody ever allowed him. to be himself openly.

Bucky never thought he had good luck. It turned out he had all the good luck in you. And he couldn't be happier.

Bucky was glad they called you.

[messedupfan]

Chapter 18

Summary: Wanda has been seeing someone. Daisy reconnects with Reader. Jean and Anna have special plans.

A/n: Heeeyy, please don't hate me. Enjoy!

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Wanda checks her watch nervously. She had arrived at the office thirty minutes early to mentally prepare for the appointment. She wasn't sure what she was going to discover in that room. All she knew was that the idea made her feel ill. Her mind jumps to all of the people she slept with and she begins to feel like an idiot. Her leg bounces nervously as she thinks about how she will be judged by the doctor. It won't happen in front of her but she's almost certain it will happen. 

“Wanda Maximoff?” Her head snaps up at her name being called. “I'm ready to see you now.” Wanda nods and rises as she collects her things. She was going to be fine. Agatha swears by therapy. She was going to be fine. This was the next step to getting better and getting on with her life. 

You are standing in the backyard of your former home. “You wanted to show me my own craft space?” You ask with arms crossed over your chest. 

“No, we wanted to show you our future craft space,” Jean says and Anna waves her arms around as she presents a stack of boxes where your tools and materials used to be laid out. 

“What's this? You know that I need the space when I get an order. I know it’s been a while but it’s not just for me. I’ve been able to help you guys with the money I make from this side job. It’s not some frivolous hobby,” you walk around the room. 

“Yes, well, it’s actually been a year – close to a year and I’m pretty sure we were your last customers,” Jean says. “Besides, since we’re going to have all of this time we thought would be occupied by a baby… We want to make it into a craft space.” 

You clamp your mouth shut as you look at the boxes. It wasn’t fair for them to throw that in your face but this scenario was eerily similar to the one you’d witnessed with Wanda’s basement and Vision. You couldn’t stoop as low as that man so you sighed and nodded. “Okay, can you give me time to find somewhere to store it all? I don’t have the space right now.” 

“Sure,” Jean says, “just please don’t take too long. I have a lot of idea’s and I’m excited. Well. We’re excited.” She pulls her wife close to her and the two share a kiss. You find their behavior to be odd but you don’t think about it too much. 

“Okay,” you drag out. “I should get going. I need to do some grocery shopping and make some phone calls to see who will be willing to store my things until I can find a better place.” You walk through the gate to get to your car as they allow you to go. You scroll through your contacts to see who you can trust with your tools and supplies. You pause for a moment when you see Daisy’s contact. You know that you didn’t love her the way she deserved but it still hurt to see her name. You decide to leave that task for when you’re home because you needed to focus. 

You walk around the store with this nagging feeling that you should contact Daisy for some reason. You didn’t understand it. In the time since she ended things with you, you haven’t wanted to contact her once. Maybe it was because things with Wanda have crashed and burned alive. You don’t know, but you had to fight it because it wouldn’t be fair for you to try and insert yourself in her life again. As you shop you recignize her friend and you can’t stop yourself from saying hi. Because you mistakenly feel as though that would be rude. “Hey, Jemma!” You greet with as smile. 

Her eyes go wide and she almost runs but instead turns around smiles back. “Y/n, it’s been a while. How have you been?” 

You take a deep breath as you mentally run through the chaotic months you’d been having. “I’ve been better,” you nod. “Yeah, um, how have you been?”

She makes a face and narrows her eyes at you, “Let’s not waste our time here. I’m not the person you want to know about. Am I?”

You’re surprised by the implication and you shake your head. “No, I’m genuinely curious about you. I wouldn’t ever put you in a position to update me about Daisy. She made it very clear that she wanted me out of her life.” 

Jemma’s eyes scan you and she nods. “I’ve been well. Daisy, however, not so much. I’m telling you this because she is going to reach out to you soon. As much as I don’t like you, you do deserve the warning.” 

Your eyebrows twitch and you frown slightly, that was not what you expected to hear. “Oh, I hope I can help her with whatever it is. I just… She’s not going to try and get back together right?”

Jemma bursts out laughing and you smile and nod as she makes a big show of her amusement. “I’ve forgotten how funny you are!” She points at you with a grin. “No! She doesn’t want you back!” 

“I’m sorry,” you say as you try not to roll your eyes at her reaction. It was unnecessary. “Just, let her know that she can contact me whenever she wants. I’ll see you around, Jemma. Or maybe I won’t.” You walk away and continue to shop for the week. You go home and put your groceries away and don’t think about Daisy the rest of the day.

Wanda sits in her office and goes over her budget proposal for the project she was assigned. The company has been trying to score her former in-law’s as a client for years. She knew Stark Industries was a big corporation when she married into the family. It’s what paid for this house. It’s what allowed her to not work for six months. It’s what has paid for her new land. But for some reason she still feels weird about using her relationship to the Starks to help this company land them as a client. It made her realize why they probably hired her in the first place even with the unexplained unemployment gap after being fired from her previous firm. She runs through the proposal a couple more times and hopes that this doesn’t create a rift with the people she was getting to build a healthier relationship with. 

When she feels confident about the proposal she sets it aside and starts to work on the digital blueprint of her dream home. It has gone from sketches to utilizing the program on her computer to draft together a more visual representation of what she wants her house to look like. She has lots of windows and an open floor plan. She knows where she wants a dining room and how she wants the kitchen to look like. The second floor has a den space and an office space and multiple bedrooms. Then she considers adding a third floor but thinks it might be too much. 

She starts to shuffle the rooms around and considers moving the office to the ground floor. Then she adds a basement. Then she takes it away. She plays around with the design until her stomach grumbles and she is reminded that she has to eat. She shut down her work and walks downstairs to make herself something to eat. As she sets out ingredients, she fantasizes about you standing in the kitchen helping her. She wonders if you'd wrap your arms around her and kiss her cheek as she chopped vegetables. She thinks about how easily she could melt against your body. She allows herself to think about moments she could have with you without making herself feel guilty about it. She's tired of feeling guilty for wanting a better life for herself. 

As she lays on the couch and watches a show that she has been binging lately she mindlessly traces the letters M, I, N, E, on her upper thigh. In her mind, it's a memory of you, but really it's only another fantasy. She doesn't know why she can't just give in. She doesn't know why she pushes you away. She knows she shouldn't have but she also knows that she probably would have hurt you. She takes a deep breath and sighs. 

She walks up to her bed as her mind prepares her for waking up early the next morning. The mental checklist of what she has to take care of tomorrow. What she should wear for her meeting with Tony. What she should make herself for breakfast, lunch and dinner. Should she go out? Should she anticipate Tony offering to take her to lunch? 

She thinks about the therapy sessions she has scheduled for the next several weeks. She thinks about wanting to hang out with her friends. Then as she closes her eyes, she thinks about you and a small smile lifts up her lips. 

You are getting ready to take your lunch break when your phone goes off in your pocket. Your heart leaps into your throat when Daisy’s image covers your screen. You answer and start walking away from the job site. “Hello?” You say into the phone. There is a loud drilling sound and someone starts banging a hammer on a wall. “Hold on, I can’t hear you. One second please.” You cross the street and keep walking until you find a quiet area. You sit down on a park bench. “Okay, I can hear you now. Um, hey,” you say as you remove your hardhat. “This is a surprise. How are you?”

“Is it a surprise? Jemma told me that she warned you I might contact you,” Daisy says. 

“Uh, she did say that but I wasn’t sure when to expect your call. So it is still a surprise,” you reply as you run your fingers through your hair. “She also warned me that you’re not doing too well. Is there something I can do for you?” Daisy goes quiet and you think that the call has dropped, you move the phone from your face to check but the sunlight makes it difficult to tell. “Hello?” 

“I’m here,” she sighs and you can tell that she is trying to hide that she is crying. You take a deep breath as you brace yourself for what she might tell you. Maybe Phil is terminally ill. Maybe her mom passed. Maybe this, maybe that. 

“I’m here for you,” you tell her. “No matter what, it’s okay. You can tell me.” 

“I,” her voice cracks and you wish that you could do something more than sit here on the phone with her. “What I need to talk to you about is better done in person,” she finally says through her sniffles. 

“Okay, um where do you want to meet?” You ask. “I don’t have Rachel this week so you could come over to my place because it's a lot more private than yours or if you don’t want privacy I can go to your place after work. Um or we can meet somewhere public. I’m willing to do whatever you need.” You softly offer her options. Your heart is pounding from the anticipation. What could be so bad that she had to see you in person?

“I’m okay with coming over to your place,” she replies. 

“Okay,” you state, “does seven-thirty work for you? I’ve been working twelve to thirteen hour shifts to pay those pesky hospital bills.” 

“Seven-thirty works,” she answers. “I’ll see you then.” 

“I’ll see you then,” you say as the call ends. You sit on that park bench a little bit longer as you fear what Daisy has to say. What could she possibly be holding on to? What has her in tears? What can’t she say over the phone? Your mind races as you eat your lunch. It continues to run as you get back to work and think about what Daisy needs help with.

Wanda laughs with Tony as they sit together in a nice restaurant. Her pitch went well and Tony said that he would consider hiring her for the project. Then he offered to take her to lunch to celebrate. Now the two were discussing highlights of Vision’s finest moments during past holidays. “Oh, remember that time he convinced your dad to let him cut the turkey and he nearly cut his finger off?” Wanda says. 

“How could I forget? I’m the one who pointed out that there couldn’t be that much blood on a turkey!” Tony laughs as he lifts his glass from the table and swirls it around. He shakes his head. “I have no clue how I’m related to that man.” 

“I don’t know either,” Wanda says. “You are way more fun to be around,” she compliments and they clink their glasses together as they cheers to that. 

“You know, Wanda,” Tony starts as he leans in closer. “Why are you wasting your talents working for a company like Nexus Developments? You are family,” he puts his hand on top of Wanda’s. “We could have helped you land a job with the company we usually use or hell, we could have made a branch for you.” 

Wanda taps Tony’s hand as she pulls away and slumps back into her seat. “I know that you would have. But I couldn’t ask that of you or your family. Vision would have made it about him some how and lately,” she shakes her head as she feels tears building up. She takes a deep breath. “Lately, whenever your brother doesn’t get his way, my kids pay a price. Hell, even when he does get his way, my kids still suffer.” 

Tony nods and takes a drink from his glass, he sighs as the aged scotch goes down smoothly. “I understand your position. Just know that if you ever need help, we are still here for you. Vision can go fuck himself,” he tells her. Wanda laughs a softly as she agrees with his statement. “Who knows, maybe I’ll be able to convince you into a Maximoff and Stark partnership once again. This one being a profitable business instead of an emotional headache.”

Wanda shrugs, “We’ll see. The future is quite unpredictable after all.” 

As you walk through the your apartment building you run through the possibilities of the impending conversation over and over in your mind. The scenarios don’t stop until you see Daisy pacing in front of your door. You check the time on your watch and fill with relief that you’re not late, she’s early. 

“Hey,” you say as you sort through your keys to find the one that will unlock the door. Daisy startles as you announce your presence. “Sorry, I didn't mean to,” you notice that she doesn't look too good and you just move to open the door. “Let's just,” you hold it open for her and she walks right past you. “Would you like anything to drink? Water maybe?”

Daisy shakes her head. “No, I don't know how long you'll want me in here after I tell you what I need to tell you.” 

You make a face, unsure what she could possibly say that would have you kicking her out of your home. “I have a feeling this is something we should sit for. Come on,” you sit down on the couch and wipe the sweat from your forehead.

“Are you sure you don’t want to shower first? You’ve been working hard all day and I know you how much you hate sitting in–” Daisy rambles on as she paces the living room and you have to cut her off. 

“Daisy, I hate waiting even more,” you tell her. “Come, sit,” you pat the space next to you on the sofa. 

Daisy stands still and frowns at you. “No you don’t. You are the most patient person I know.” 

You nod your head slowly, “I can be patient, that’s true. But I still hate waiting.” You admit to her. “I’ve been worried about you all day, Daisy. I don’t want to be pushy but I want to be able to help you. I can’t do that if you don’t stop stalling and tell me what’s wrong.” 

Daisy sits next to you and drops her face into her hands. You sit there and wait for her to collect her thoughts and say something. Anything that will explain her behavior. You bounce your leg as your body decides to show your impatience. The movement has Daisy moving her hands from her face through her hair. “The night we broke up I,” the area around her eyes are red and her nose is pink. She doesn't face you because she can't say this and have you look at her differently. She doesn't know where you stand on a topic like this because every conversation the two of you had on the matter was purely hypothetical. She wanted to keep this to herself because she didn't want you to change in her eyes. She likes you the way you are. “I found out that I had um, sorry this is difficult for me to say.” 

You hold your hand out to her, “Daisy, it's okay. Whatever it is,” you trail as she turns her head away from you. “Are you sick?”  You ask softly as her shoulders shake. 

She turns her head to stare in front of her as she shakes her head and wipes her tears. “No, I'm not sick. That's not the kind of results I had received,” she reaches for the box of tissues in the coffee table and blows her nose. “I found out that I was pregnant,” she finally says. 

You feel your heart stop beating and drop to your stomach. You grow nauseous at the news. “Oh,” you grab onto the arm of the couch as if you're going to faint. “I um,” you blink a couple of times. “Is it someone else's?” The words stumble out before you can process the implication. 

“I never cheated on you,” she states sharply and she looks at you this time. 

“I'm sorry, I shouldn't have… I mean, can you blame me for asking? You didn't tell me until today. You broke up with me instead of telling me. I can't think of why you would do that unless the baby wasn't mine or —” you stop talking as you look at her and clamp your mouth shut. Daisy avoids your eye contact as you recall her behavior that night. She didn't want to be a mother. She kept telling you that as she tried to leave. “Oh,” you react again. The tension in your body releases and you try to figure out how you can address this conversation respectfully. “You decided not to go through with the um the uh pregnancy? Is that what you're telling me?” You try to keep your tone even and your features neutral, trying to avoid showing any insensitive emotions out of respect. 

Daisy closes her eyes as she starts to sob. “I couldn't go through with it. I'm not ready.” She says through her tears. You nod your head because you don't know what to do or how to properly react. “It wasn't an easy decision, you know? I thought about it for a couple of weeks and I thought about telling you but I was so scared that you would be happy and I would have the baby to please you and I just —” 

“Daisy,” you call her name until she stops rambling and you enter her personal space, pulling her against your chest to let her know that you are there for her. “Daisy, I get it. It's okay. I’m not ready for another kid. Shh, shh, it's okay. It's your body, I would have never asked—” 

“I know you wouldn't have but I would have done it! For you!” She interrupts. “Because I know how much you love kids and you're a great parent. You're so great with Rachel and I know how much she wants siblings and I just couldn't. I couldn't be the one to give you that. But if I told you, I would have gone through with it and I would have been miserable,” she continues to ramble. You pull back and get her to look you in the eye. 

“Daisy, you're not listening,” you say calmly. “Breathe with me. Okay?” She nods with you and you count to four with your fingers as you inhale through your nose. Then you put down the four fingers as you hold. You lift them back up as you exhale. And you repeat the process with Daisy until she appears a little more relaxed. “Daisy, recently I've been asked by my ex-wife to have more kids with her and I told her no. I — this is going to sound horrible but — I wasn't ready to be Rachel's parent. I love her, she is my world. But it took me longer than anyone realizes to be comfortable being her parent. I wasn't ready and I know that a lot of parents will tell you that none of them were ready and that's,” you wave your hand to the side. “It's quite clear that they weren't and I don't think it should be that way.” You shake your head. “Daisy, I'm telling you right now that I'm not ready for another child. When you told me about the pregnancy right now I nearly threw up. You made the right decision. I'm not mad at you. I don't hate you for making this decision on your own. It's your choice, I'm just sorry that I didn't make you feel like you could come to me about this. I'm sorry that I wasn't there for you.” Daisy closes her eyes and leans against your chest. 

Neither of you talk for a moment. Allowing yourselves to process and accept the truths that each has shared. You think about how that night might’ve gone differently. You wouldn’t have lived with Wanda for almost two weeks. You wouldn’t have gotten as close to Wanda as you have. You would have been having back-and-forth conversations with Daisy. You would have developed a stronger relationship. Maybe. It could have turned sour. She could have grown distant and resented you or herself for the decision. Who knows? That wasn’t what happened. So it doesn’t matter now. But you can’t help but think where you could have been now had things happened differently. 

“Did you deal with this alone?” You eventually ask her. Daisy shakes her head against your chest. You’re surprised she is still resting against you because normally she couldn’t stand the smell of your sweat and the other odors that come from manual labor when the two of you were together. “Jemma?” She nods against you. “Can I ask, uh, what… or why did you bring this to me now?” You ask carefully. 

You feel Daisy take a deep breath and this is what pulls her away from you. She wipes her face and sits against the back of the couch. She plays with the rings on her fingers and flexes her jaw. “I didn’t get the abortion until a couple of weeks ago,” she admits. “I almost went through with the pregnancy because,” she takes another shaky breath. “Jean was at the same clinic I was at to make the appointment. I spilled my guts to her because Jemma had to leave halfway through since it wasn't the appointment and Jean was there when I had second thoughts. It took me a couple of weeks to even go in because I was in denial for a bit. I didn’t want to believe it was true. Then I saw the sonogram and I,” she shakes her head and looks up to the ceiling. “I had second thoughts.” She shrugs her shoulders and you take one of her hands to offer your support. It’s not an easy decision for most. That's assuming that it's ever an easy decision for anyone. “Jean offered to pay for my doctor bills and prenatal care if I decided to follow through with the pregnancy and gave her and Anna the baby and never told you about any of this.” You drop Daisy’s hand and turn away from her. 

You stand up with that nauseous feeling again, not sure what to do about a betrayal of this caliber. You know that Jean has a tendency to do anything and everything to get what she wants when she wants it but… This was too far. “I can’t fucking,” you shake your head. You want to punch a wall or break something but you can’t. You can’t afford the injury. You can’t afford the plaster to fix the wall.  You can’t afford to replace the things you have. You can’t afford any of this because you thought you were paying off debts before interest can build on them. You thought you were doing everything right. You thought you could trust Jean. You can’t believe she would go so far as to put Daisy through something like this. 

“Please don’t hate me,” Daisy begs, “I was confused and I wasn’t sure what I wanted. I only said yes at first because I thought you would be allowed to be in their life and I thought you would like that and–” 

“I’m not upset with you,” you cut her off. “It’s not your fault,” you try to focus on your breathing but you can’t calm down. You can’t focus on anything. You don’t know how someone can be so deranged. You look at Daisy and you feel so guilty for what happened to her. The position she was put in. It makes sense why one day Jean is ready to cut your head off for saying no and then next she’s perfectly fine. What kind of person could be so deceptive? What kind of person… you huff through your nose. “I’m sorry that you had to go through that,” you say to Daisy in the softest tone you could muster up. “You shouldn’t have… She shouldn’t’ve…” you shake your head and close your eyes. 

Daisy stands up and takes your white-knuckled fist and massages the tight skin until you release your grip. “I am going to be okay. I probably shouldn’t have told you. I just, I don’t know. At first the offer was that I just give them the baby. I wrongfully assumed that also meant giving you the baby. Then she eventually told me that you would not know that the baby was even yours,” she shakes her head. “I couldn’t put myself in the middle of this. I couldn’t put anyone in the middle of that. I didn't want to be part of why Rachel’s parents grew to hate each other. You guys are such healthy examples for her.” You begin to grow upset again thinking about how Jean deceived Daisy. How she was ready to deceive you. It was one thing to ask you to knowingly not be allowed in your child's life. But to go behind your back and essentially kidnap what almost was your child… you couldn’t believe it. 

“When I had the chance to think about it, I didn’t want to give birth. I couldn’t go through with it so without telling her, I went through with the abortion because that’s what I wanted.” Daisy closes her eyes as tears slip out and she continues to rub your hand. Something she learned that can keep you grounded. “The only thing that has been tearing me apart about this whole thing is how much of it was being kept from you. I haven’t been able to sleep because of it. You deserve to know.” 

“Thank you for telling me,” you state as you watch her rub your hands. You clench your jaw as your eyebrows knit together. Normally an action like this would calm you down but the information was far too upsetting. “I need to go for a walk or something. I don’t know. I just can’t be here right now.” You pull your hand away. 

“I don’t think you should be alone,” Daisy tries to pull you back to her. 

“Trust me, right now, that’s what’s best for everyone,” you say as you hold your hand up to stop her from coming any closer to you. Daisy stares at you, wanting to be in your arms again. Wanting to feel that comfort that you brought her. Both in the past and just before she dropped the bomb on you. But you weren't someone that sought after touch when you were going through something. You retreated. You isolated yourself. At least, that's what you did when you were with her. She might never know that there are other sides to you. Especially not after tonight. 

“Okay,” she says just above a whisper. “Okay,” she repeats as she walks to the exit. “I'm sorry for everything, again,” she says as she steps into the hallway. “Please, don't do anything stupid.” She disappears, leaving the door open. 

You stare at the door as you think of what you want to do. You think about getting into your car but you're afraid that if you do, you'll drive into a tree or worse. You'll drive to Jean’s house. You couldn't do that to Rachel. You check that you have your keys, phone, and wallet in your pockets and then you lock up your apartment on your way out. Stepping out onto the concrete sidewalk outside of your apartment building you look every which way. There are bars and restaurants down each way. You could easily find somewhere to drink but that's not what you want to do. So you start walking. 

You walk aimlessly for a long time. You walk until your legs begin to ache and your feet begin to hurt. You find yourself at a dock, there are many boats parked but you find a space without one. You sit at the ledge and look out to the water and breathe. The smell of the salty water is calming. You watch as the water moves causing the reflection of the lights to dance. You allow yourself to grieve because even though you didn't want another child, you contributed to almost bringing another life into the world. It was a weird feeling. You're not upset with Daisy for making her choice, you are grateful to her. But you still feel the loss. You didn't understand the feeling but you let yourself feel it. Because even though you don't understand why you feel the way that you do, you don't have to justify or explain it to anyone. You can just allow yourself to feel whatever you want to. 

Then you grieve the relationship you thought you had with Jean. You can't believe she would pull something like this. You don't understand where an idea like that would come from out of her. You don't know how you'll be able to move past this. You feel like she took everything the two of you built together over the years and tore it apart bit by bit. You feel disgusting. You feel used. You take deep breaths as you feel it all. Hoping to release it in a healthy way. It was done, there wasn't much else that you could do about it now except to confront her. You couldn't do that until Sunday.

When you stand up to leave, you slip and fall into the water. You don't try to swim at first. You let the water move you. Trusting that it won't take you away. That it won't pull you under and shorten your time on this planet. You just float in the water. Eventually, the need for air is too great and you swim up until you break the surface with a big gasp. 

You pull yourself up onto the dock and start walking home. You are grateful for the bulky phone case when you pull it out of your pocket to find that the phone is perfectly fine. You use the map application in order to navigate your way home. When you arrive at your destination you shower and eat a microwavable meal. You fall into your bed after taking a sleep aid and fall asleep. 

The next day, at work, Wanda stops by the job site around lunch time. You walk into Pietro’s office and find the two of them laughing with takeaway meals in front of them. You still feel horrible from the night before. But hearing her laugh heals the wounds inside your heart. 

“Y/n!” Wanda grins. “I brought you something too,” she holds up a container. You look at the container and try not to show that you have anything wrong with you by forcing on a smile. 

“You didn't have to,” you say as you move to the sink to wash your hands before you join them. “I appreciate this. Is there an occasion I'm not aware of?” You ask as you open the container. The aroma of your favorite food should have made you happier, instead you began to feel nauseous again. It has nothing to do with the food or Wanda's presence and everything to do with the feelings that you're suppressing. 

“No, I had lunch with Tony yesterday and it reminded me how much I enjoy having lunch with other people,” she shrugs. “Isolation can become a bit of a downside when it comes to working from home for me sometimes.” 

You nod, “Makes sense. Why don't you do the hybrid method? That's what Daisy did with school. She would do online classes and in-person classes,” you suggest before you take a bite. You chew slowly because you do need to eat. No matter how sick you're feeling. 

“That's a good idea,” Pietro agrees. “You could finally get better acquainted with the rest of the staff.” 

Wanda makes a distasteful face, “I don't know. Getting to know people always leads to getting stuck in the middle of their drama.” She shakes her head. “I think I have enough of my own.” 

Pietro shrugs, “You never know. Sometimes it's good to hear about other people's drama. It makes your life sound better. Why do you think I still talk to you? Just because you're my sister?” Wanda’s eyes widen and she punches her brother on his shoulder. “Hey! It's not my fault, you have the most dramatic life out of anyone I know! Y/n,” he nudges you, “back me up here!” 

You are snapped out of your head and try to catch up with the conversation. You look between them cluelessly. “I'm sorry, I probably have her beat when it comes to a dramatic life.” 

Pietro shakes his head, “What are you talking about? Other than that baby thing, you are relatively drama free. That drama even ended pretty well from what I remember.” 

You feel a little light headed as you are reminded by the development of that issue. That there is a new ending to the situation. But you don't tell him. You don't want to tell him. You're not even sure you want to tell Wanda. Not right now at least. You nod, “Yeah, I guess you're right.” You turn to Wanda with a playful shrug. “Sorry, I tried.” Wanda shakes her head and the three of you share a laugh. 

“Whatever,” Wanda mutters as she stabs her salad with her fork. 

When lunch is over, you walk Wanda out to her car. You're quiet as she talks to you about her current project and updating you on her boys. Then she asks you if you are okay because you seem a little off. You shrug and stop when you reach the car. “Um the other day, Jean and Anna asked me to move my workshop out of their shed,” you scratch behind your ear. Feeling queasy saying her name. 

“Your workshop?” Wanda asks as she unlocks her car. 

“Yeah, just my tools and some leftover materials that I used on my last order,” you explain as you open the car door for her. 

“Last order? What do you mean?” Wanda reaches over and sets her purse on the passenger seat but she doesn't sit in her car just yet. 

“I have a little side business. Haven't I told you about it before?” You are surprised with yourself that you haven't mentioned this to her before. You try to think of a time that you might've brought it up before but you come up with nothing. There just hasn't been a reason to. Wanda shakes her head as she does the same. “Ah well, I have a small business. I take custom orders. Anything that someone wants built, I build it.” You pull out your phone and show her your website. “Just something to help with the bills whenever I can't get a lot of hours.” She takes your phone and nods, impressed by the stuff you have built in the past. “Anyway, the reason it's on my mind, they want me to move my stuff out of the shed. I can't really afford a place to be able to store everything and be able to have the space to work on orders.” 

“I have a shed that, admittedly, could use some care,” she says as she hands you back your phone. “You could set up shop in there, at no cost, of course.” 

“Wanda, I can't take you up on that offer,” you resist. 

“Yes, you can,” she insists. “Why couldn't you?” 

You look away and lick your lips as you are reminded of the night she rejected you. “I would need a lot of access to it when or really if I get another order. I don't know if it's a good idea for us to spend that much time together.”

Wanda nods as she understands where you're coming from. “Technically we wouldn't be spending any of that time together. You'd be working and I would be inside my house or doing something. Come on, we're friends. Let me help you with this.” 

You focus your eyes back to hers and you think about just how much she has been helping you. It doesn't feel like there is a balance in the friendship with how often she helps you compared to how often you help her. “I don't know Wanda,” you say as you bite your bottom lip in thought. You can't think of a good reason to say no so you don't. You shrug and nod at her. “Okay, yeah, I will take you up on that offer. Thank you, Wanda. I really appreciate it. Is it okay if I bring it all by on Sunday?” 

Wanda smiles and nods, “Of course, come by then. I'm sure the boys will be happy to see you and Rachel again. They were pretty upset about not having you guys there last week.” 

“Yeah, Rachel wasn't happy about it either. She prefers cooking with you a lot more than she does with me,” you say with a soft laugh. Wanda smiles at her shoes as she thinks about how much she prefers cooking with you over anyone else. She looks back up and locks eyes with you. She feels like an idiot for pushing you away but she doesn't feel ready to tell you how she feels about you. 

“I'll see you on Sunday,” she says and you nod as you repeat her departing words as you step away from her. You wave as she drives off and you go back to work without thinking about your problems with Jean and instead thinking about Wanda and how pretty she looked today. 

Saturday night you can't sleep. You toss and turn even after taking a sleep aid. Your heart pounds as your mind races about seeing Jean the next day. You can't stop running through scenarios of confronting her. Are you going to do it right away? Are you going to choke? Is the sight of her going to make you nauseous? Or worse. Is it going to cause you to actually vomit? Will you be able to see her without getting angry? You're going to have to be there longer than you want to because you have to load your truck with your stuff but are you going to make it through? You don't know. And you're exhausted by the anticipation. 

You are lucky to get in a nap before you have to pick up Rachel. You have to drink two cups of coffee before you feel awake enough to drive. On the drive over, you are yet again practicing what you're going to say when you arrive. You yawn as you park and shake your head to get you ready to knock on the door. You stare at the house as you try to remember that she is your friend. She was your favorite person once upon a time. You loved her. But it's all tainted now. She has slowly burned you out and ripped you to shreds. 

You step out of your truck and knock on the door. You look at the welcome mat to keep yourself calm as you wait. When there's no response, you ring the doorbell. You take slow breaths as you try to clear your mind. You can't think about what Daisy told you in front of Rachel. 

Anna is the one to open the door. Since Daisy hadn't mentioned her, you can tell yourself that she isn't someone that you should be upset with and you can tell yourself that she has no idea. At least until you can figure out when to confront them about this. You walk through the house to get to your stuff in the backyard but when you bring the tools to your truck you go through the gate that leads to the front instead of going through the house. You don't say anything to Anna, you don't even ask why she's the only person you've seen so far. You just focus on your task. Move your tools from the shed to your truck. When you're done, Rachel greets you with a tight hug that you are happy to reciprocate. It's a relief to see her and to hold her. 

Jean is on the phone in the kitchen and you don't feel the desire to interrupt her conversation just to confront her. You decide to leave it alone. You take Rachel to the car and help her get inside. “Did you hear the good news?” Rachel asks as you get settled in the driver's seat. You shake your head and ask her what the good news is. “I'm having a baby brother! My mommies said so. I'm going to be a big sister!” Your heart stops as your entire body freezes. How could they tell her something like that? How do they even know what the gender would have been? 

“Wait right here, I need to ask your mommies something,” you tell your daughter with a tight voice. You climb out of the truck and walk to the front door. This time, you enter without knocking and walk up to Jean as she ends her phone call. “How dare you,” you start bitterly. Jean is thrown off and her confused smile drops. “How dare you put Daisy in that kind of position. How dare you tell our daughter that she's going to be a big sister before there is a baby. There isn't going to be a baby! There never should have been. You shouldn't have tried to talk Daisy out of her decision. You are a cisgendered female, you should have some respect when it comes to another woman making a decision about her life and her body. Not only that, you are my best friend. Or at least you used to be. I thought you would have enough respect for me to tell me the moment you found out about Daisy's pregnancy. I was mistaken to believe the lies you told me but I will not allow that behavior to affect our daughter. So you better be a thousand percent certain when it comes to something as big as a sibling coming into her life before you tell her anything!” You take a split second to decide whether or not to continue and with how upset you are, you can't stop yourself. “And I was going to let Daisy tell you this herself but I will do what you should have done. She went through with her decision. There won't be a baby. Now I suggest that you either start looking into fostering or adopting — no. You should get your fucking head checked be clearly you are out of your fucking mind, Jean!” Jean slaps you clear across your face. The slap was loud and the impact was hard. It stings and you lift your hand up to your face in shock. 

“Get out!” Anna shouts from behind you. You are shaking with anger. You weren't aware that you had gotten so furious with the situation. You try to say more but Anna won't let you. Jean is in tears and looking down at her hand, shocked by her own actions. Anna steps in between you and her wife. “Get the fuck out of my house Y/n! Get out! Get out!” She starts pushing you backwards. You hold your hands up and shake your head. 

“You're both unbelievable. I'm going,” you walk out after Anna's last shove. You can't believe the reactions. You can't believe the lack of accountability. You storm across the yard and climb into the truck. 

“What's wrong?” Rachel asks in a scared little voice. You feel terrible seeing her shaken up. You sigh and close your eyes before you look at her. 

“Nothing sweetheart,” you say as softly as you can. “Nothing, let's just… we're going to go home and I'm going to go for a run and then maybe we'll stop by Wanda’s house to drop all of this stuff off later. How does that sound?” You try to make her feel more at ease. 

“Why can't we go to Ms. Wanda’s first? I really want to see Tommy and Billy and tell them about the good news!” She asks innocently and you have to close your eyes to calm down. You open them and start the engine. You need to distance yourself from this house. From Jean and Anna. You're starting to wonder if your ex’s behavior is being instigated by her wife. You aren't sure how you can find out. But it's definitely something to look into with the lengths she's gone through to make this idea of theirs happen. 

“Honey, mommies were mistaken. You're not going to be a big sister,” you correct her. 

Rachel frowns, “Yes I am. They said so. My mommies don't lie to me, Baba.” 

“I know that sweetheart, that's why I said that they were mistaken. That's not the same as lying, it's more like they didn't know what they were telling you wasn't true,” you take a second to glance at her. “Does that make sense to you?” Rachel nods with tears building in her eyes. “Awe baby girl, what's wrong?” 

“I really wanted to be a big sister,” she says as she wipes her tears. You feel bad as you continue to drive. 

“I know sweetie, I know,” you sigh as you start to reconsider their proposal. But you quickly shove that thought out of your mind. You cannot allow your daughters disappointment to change your mind on a matter of this magnitude. “Do you still want to go to Wanda’s first?”

“Yes please,” she says as she continues to wipe her face. “I want to see my friends.” You want to calm down before you see Wanda. You don't want to pull her into more of your problems. But you feel bad enough for taking away your daughters smile. So you suck it up and drive to Wanda’s house. You text her that you're on the way when you stop at a red light. 

When you pull up the driveway, Wanda is waiting outside with a smile. She knocks on the window and talks as you roll it down. “I don't care what you say, I'm helping you move the stuff into the shed.” Her wide smiles drops to an expression of concern when she sees the red mark on your cheek. She looks further into the truck and sees Rachel's face is red from crying. “What happened?” She looks you over and you shake your head. 

“Nothing, why do you ask?” You say, oblivious to the evidence on your face while you try to hide your frustration from the day. 

Wanda leans in as close as she can get. “Have you looked in the mirror?” She says in a low whisper. 

Your eyebrows knit together and you frown before you drop the visor mirror to check yourself out. Then you see the mark and you shut it. You want to curse yourself for not going home first. “I can't talk about it right now. Can we start moving this stuff?” Wanda nods and allows you to get out of the vehicle. You walk to the other side to help Rachel down before you start to take stuff down from your truck. You hand some boxes to Wanda and she leads the way to her shed. She talks the entire way about how she spent her entire Saturday reorganizing the entire space. You hardly listen as your mind replays the last hour. How Jean slapped you and Anna pushed you. How angry you felt —  no, feel. 

Once the pair of you set the boxes down Wanda asks again what happened and the words come out of you before you can stop them. You tell her everything from running into  Jemma to what happened with Jean just moments ago. Wanda is quiet as she stands there and processes. She doesn't look at you as she does. You shift your weight uncomfortably as you wait for a response. When she finally moves you don't expect her to hug you the way that she does. She holds you tightly in a warm embrace that breaks your walls down. 

“I'm so sorry,” she whispers against your chest as you break down in tears and she rubs your back. You let her hold you and comfort you in ways that you hardly ever allowed anyone to take care of you. You allow her to witness a side of vulnerability that you rarely let many see. 

After a bit of time the both of you stop crying. You and Wanda sneak into the house and each go to a bathroom in order to wash your faces and then get back to work. Together the truck gets emptied of the tools and materials in an impressive amount of time and was put away in the shed. When the both of you finish, Wanda gets a phone call and excuses herself to answer. You follow her inside to wash your hands. 

You get a message from Nebula and you feel slightly guilty when you do. You open the message and you clench your jaw as she admits how much she likes you and asks when she can see you next. The two of you went out on a date shortly after Wanda rejected you. It was an okay date but with everything going on, it doesn't feel right. You close your phone and head upstairs to check on the kids. As you do so you pass Wanda's office. Her door is slightly ajar. You don't mean to listen in but when you hear the words,  “Thank you for introducing me… yeah he has made me feel things I haven't felt before,” and,  “I feel like he understands me better than I understand me.” You feel your heart sink. You continue to walk to check on the kids as you try to tell yourself that you didn't hear the entire conversation so you couldn't possibly know what she was talking about. But a small voice in the back of your head is telling you that she rejected you because she found someone else. A reality that you'll have to accept if you and Wanda are going to continue to be friends. 

After you check on the kids you schedule another date with Nebula for the next Sunday after you drop Rachel off. Then you continue on with your night with Wanda and the kids. Doing your best to keep your mind off of everything else.

Chapter 19

Taglist: @princessprudy @sayah13 @agaymilflover @awkwardmandalorian @bentleywolf29 @thatshyboy1998 @artisannat @thisischaismagic @wqndanat @madamevirgo @likefirenrain @tearsofglitter @feltlikethat @the-writer-arcane @natashasilverfox @karsonromanoff @aloneodi @lovelyy-moonlight @red1culous @jovialsublimecomputer @natasha-maximoff @iliketozoneout @doudouneverte @druggedduck @notbornbutforged @when-wolves-howl @lifespectator @justyourwritter69 @wandaromamoff69 @awesomelygayasf @nekoannie-chan @diaryoflife @wuwu96 @wandanats-goodgirl @sincerely-indi @blueredg52 @sisiofthemultifandom @fuzzyuniversityeclipsefriend @arcturusseer @scarlettwidow34 @chasethemoon @raven-ss @canyonyodeler @sokovianbaby @alexawynters @bittysworld @hopeless-romantic17177 @spongebobtentacles @the-ox-fan20 @shaniiwm

[s1aywalker]

꒰ა ♱ ໒꒱ just fake it through the day and the night is your god. ꨄ

↷ ✩ —— video store clerk sam monroe headcanons. (sfw)

warnings: brief mention of weed, profane language (sorry i can't help it).

𝜗𝜚˚⋆ sam monroe who is admittedly terrible at his job. he lives by the philosophy of the customer is always wrong. but what he lacks in customer service skills, he makes up for in love of movies... especially horror.

𝜗𝜚˚⋆ sam monroe who gets fired from the store what seems like every other week. whether it's because his drawer was suspiciously short, because he didn't show up, or because too many customers have called complaining about his poor attitude and how he smells like a skunk.

𝜗𝜚˚⋆ sam monroe who rolls out of bed in the late afternoon to show up for his closing shift ten minutes late with his boots unlaced, still wearing his smeared eyeliner from the night before.

𝜗𝜚˚⋆ sam monroe who soccer moms can't stand because he always has some splatter gore flick playing on the display television behind the counter. the snot nosed kids hug mommy's legs and hide their face in her back while they're checking out. meanwhile, she's shooting sam death glares and he seems oblivious. when really, he just doesn't give a fuck. she goes home with her bambi and spy kids tapes, and immediately makes a phone call to his manager... another tally on his shit list.

"all those bitchy moms are lucky," he mumbles to you while his fingers absentmindedly toy with the silver labret stabbed through his skin. but there's something playful, amused tugging crookedly on his lips as his gaze remains focused on the flickering television, while screams of terror crackled from speakers. "this isn't shit. if i wanted to traumatize their little brats, i'd put on maniac... i left my nametag at home, anyway." but, of course, it isn't difficult for the higher ups to piece together the puzzle.

𝜗𝜚˚⋆ sam monroe who thinks it's fucking hilarious to recommend the worst selections imaginable to customers that won't know what hit 'em. another reason for him to be fired, honestly. he sees a teen lingering a little too long in the horror section and when they ask for something that'll scare their friends this weekend... according to his manager, faces of death was not the correct answer.

𝜗𝜚˚⋆ sam monroe whose favorite customer is you.

𝜗𝜚˚⋆ sam monroe who always makes it a point to come out from behind his throne that is the checkout counter every time you come in. he wants to bug you, to breathe down your neck to see what you're going to rent because he's nosey and too impatient to find out what it'll be whenever you decide to bring your handful of selections to the front. and he wants to throw out his own recommendations, too, while he straightens out a nearby shelf.

𝜗𝜚˚⋆ sam monroe who can go on for hours about movies when he's talking to you. he's very strongly opinionated... to a fault, honestly. because he won't bite his tongue when you examine a tape he's seen and didn't like, or when you bring up enjoying some new horror flick that, in his mind, has nothing compared to a good gory classic. he'll argue with you on it, and remain firm on his stance, with a mouth that seems and sounds mean, but it's never really directed towards you.

"the grudge fucking sucked, don't you dare get that." he snorted, snatching the new release out of your hands with more aggression than necessary. it's shoved back into its slot as he begins scanning over the neatly organized shelf labeled horror, a black painted nail dragging along spines for something specific. "they americanized it for no goddamn reason... here." the search was over as he pulled out the haunting japanese cover of ju-on. "watch the original... and call me if you piss your pants."

𝜗𝜚˚⋆ sam monroe who only pretends to be annoyed when you come in ten til close with no reason other than to keep him company during the deserted hour. he says you should have just called him to hang after he clocked out, but really, he's glad you're there, because he's seen the movie he has on at least six times.

𝜗𝜚˚⋆ sam monroe who stands behind the counter while you're propped up on the surface during a lull, security cameras be damned. he was supposed to have mopped the bathroom and locked the doors by now... but mouths keep running and laughter becomes louder than the shitty movie that has now been forgotten and reduced to background noise with a chilling soundtrack.

𝜗𝜚˚⋆ sam monroe who is inching closer to your perched position and closing the gap with a bag of sour gummy worms in his hands that he says the store won't notice missing. the plastic corner is ripped open with his teeth to share and it's a bribe, a ploy to get you to stay longer.

𝜗𝜚˚⋆ sam monroe who finally convinces you to rent the evil dead trilogy. it's one of his favorites, and of course he's going to suggest you make a marathon out of it, with him tagging along for the blood soaked journey. he promises to bring your favorite candies and the popcorn with extra butter, and he promises to not talk through them... but he accidentally grabs the regular popcorn instead, and he can't help but go on and on about every single fun fact about the series that pops into his head while he gradually scoots closer.

[toji-fushiguro-is-broke]

Getting married to Toji:

Getting Married to Toji

Choosing the wedding Venue and Decorations with Toji is a hard thing to do.

You know for a fact that this man is color blind and doesn't like anything fancy.

You knew that, when you said yes to his proposal. So the person helping you decorate your wedding is your two kids.

Especially Tsumiki, since she's the only one who can understand you.

Toji didn't like the fact that you two had to be separated so it won't 'Jinx' the wedding.

He was kinda excited about seeing you in a wedding dress.

"Fuck those shit, I wanna see ya." Toji said as he was waiting in another waiting room while you try out dresses.

"Toji..." You sighed.

"Alright, make it fast I want this to end. I didn't know there were some kinds of fucking rituals to do before marriage." Toji grumbled as he faces the wall.

He watched the television while he waited for you to choose your dress and Tsumiki's dress.

He thought to himself, 'I'm gonna fucking kill who ever made this, no see the bride before wedding shit.'

When it was time for choosing their tuxedo you had to go to different shops, because none of their tuxedos can fit Toji, so his had to be custom made.

Toji had to endure days and hours just to choose a tuxedo.

"Fuck, Can't I just a shirt and pants to the wedding?" He complained.

"No." Tsumiki and Megumi both said

When Toji got married to Megumi's mom. He did it at the court, so it went fast as you can think of.

He knew, You, Tsumiki and Megumi would be happy so he can endure it, It's the least he can do.

On the wedding day, he hated the long wait, he didn't even see you the entire day.

Not only was he irritated, he was also a bit anxious on how this will go out.

"Fuck" He mutters as he punches the wall.

"Calm down Dad." Megumi said as he was sitting on a chair scrolling in his phone.

"How much longer?" Toji asks

Megumi looks at the clock and stands up.

"Now, let's go to the altar." He says as he opens the door for his Dad to go out.

Toji walks out and goes to stay at the altar.

'Once this shit ends I'm killing the man who made this tradition.' He thought as he saw the door opens.

As every groomsmen and bridesmaid comes in through those doors.

Tsumiki was walking with a beautiful dress accomapanied by a friend.

And for some reason Gojo was a flower girl throwing roses especially at Nanami.

And the very last, You.

You were slowly walking down the isle with your father in tears.

It felt like, the wait was worth it, everything was perfect. You were perfect. He watched as you were walking.

He wanted to pick you up and just bring you home.

He smiled as you walked to him, as the priest started to speak.

You spoke first on your speech, it made Toji melt, chest filled with happiness, sadness and content with you.

And when it was his next, he didn't know what to say.

"Y/N, for as long as I've existed. I never thought I'd ever find someone like you, you understood me, cared for me and loved ne unconditionally even though we both know who I was. I am happy that I have the honor to love and appreciate you for the rest of my life, and in death." He said

You were shocked at his words, tears falling from your eyes, as tears also fell from his eyes.

You both smiled at each other lovingly, you both felt love and safeness at each other's arms.

You were both lucky meeting each other.

*After the wedding*

"Dad, on your wedding speech. Where did you get it from?" Tsumiki asked.

"I also don't know, was kinda in the moment." He said as he was hugging you asleep.

"Yeah, it was almost like you were possessed by some kind of entity." Megumi added

"We should get you checked Dad." Tsumiki replied.

"Eh, Whatever." Toji replies

[navybrat817]

For your what if game- we know that Smartie came to see Stud's apartment because he needed a roommate. What if Smartie had never seen it (for any reason- he found some other roommate or never decided he needed one). Would they have met another way?

Well, whether people believe in soulmates are not, I believe Stud and Smartie are in fact soulmates and they would've been destined to meet. ❤️

Sometime after you have to bring you car into the shop. And Bucky overhears one of the other guys is giving you a hard time.

Service With a Smile

Pairing: Mechanic!Bucky Barnes x Reader Word Count: Almost 600 Warnings: John sucks, Bucky rules, first meeting.

"It isn't ready yet. I told you that."

"And I understand that," Bucky heard a kind voice reply, one he didn't recognize as he wiped off his hands. "I just need to get my book out of my car. That's all."

"Can't do that. Should've grabbed it if you needed it so badly."

"It slipped out of my bag. I didn't realize it until after the car was pulled into the garage. I'm really not trying to cause a hassle."

Bucky poked his head in through the door to listen a bit more. John didn't exactly have the best customer service skills. He was shocked to see someone so gorgeous standing in front of the desk. You were in leggings and a hoodie, nothing that would attract much attention.

But to him, you were the most beautiful woman he has ever seen.

"Maybe someone can grab it?" you asked hopefully when John ignored you. "Please?"

The blonde leaned over the desk once he acknowledged you as you took a step back. "Lady, you are causing a hassle. You can have it when your car is finished. Or you can say 'pretty please with sugar on top'," he said as you frowned. "No? Then why don't you walk your pretty self back over to the chair over there and let me do my job?"

Your face fell more when John chuckled. Bucky didn't need to hear anything else as he made his way over to your car and spotted the book in front of the passenger seat. He knew John was only giving you grief because he thought no one was watching. He probably thought you'd really beg for it.

Fucking prick.

"Here's your book, miss," Bucky said once he came back, smirking a little when John whipped around so fast that he knocked the phone over.

You hid your laugh behind your hand before you smiled over at him. It was enough to make him blush.

"Thank you so much," you smiled wider as you moved to the end of the desk. "I'm sorry for the trouble."

"Don't apologize. I'm sorry about him," he said, glaring at John. "That's not how we treat our customers. Or do I need to tell our boss you were harassing her?"

Whatever John was about to say died in his throat as he kept staring. The blonde prick wasn't a small guy, but he was bigger. Stronger. And he was told more than once that he had a real death glare. It must have worked since he slunk to the back and mumbled an apology to you on the way.

Or maybe it was the wrench he partially bent in his metal hand, out of sight where you couldn't see.

You didn't say anything else until John left. "I really do appreciate you getting this and defending me," you said as you took your book, your fingers briefly touching his.

I didn't think the jolt of electricity was a real thing.

"It was nothing," he said, clearing his throat and nodding to the book. "I have that, actually."

"Yeah? I like it so far" you said, biting your lip as you glanced at the counter and looked back at him. I twas adorable. "I should let you get back to work."

"I'm actually about to go on break," he said, taking a small chance. "Maybe we can talk about it?"

He found himself smiling when you nodded. "I'd like that."

And maybe he'd take a chance and ask for your number before you had to go.

Love and thanks! ❤️

[raspberry-vinaigrette]

you should tell me your thoughts on one steven s stevenson from hit game dayshift at freddys (imagine that one proud tiktok emoji with the spiky hair here) go boy (gender neutral) !!! yap!!!

the fact i know exactly who this is ...... ur the steven fan forever. godspeed

BUT !! steven is just so fascinating to me. he suffers a bit from originating from dsaf1 which is the most satiric and parody-esque of the games so most of his legitimate characterization is often taken from dsaf3 but! i think there's still something to be pulled from what we have! namely his whole "sweep it under the rug" idea and how it contrasts with his entire thing with peter! because i find it really interesting how steven reacts to deaths in general honestly and how it differs based on circumstances.

for one, prior to him becoming a phoney, there's how he reacts to henry's murders. one thing that always stands out to me is that his priority is mentioning henry has effectively disrupted the workflow and killed paying customers more than it is... y'know... henry murdered children. while i do think he definitely feels stressed and upset about the fact Kids Died in some form, his main way of expressing this is through a corporate lens, and it's always given me the impression that even before becoming a phoney, steven was kind of firm on company policies. it's probably a part of why steven sticks so hard with his scott identity and refuses to let it go, even begging jack to not make him remember his own name, compared to harry, who is reluctant and doesn't consider harry as himself but overall is more willing to accept he isn't scott, at least. regardless of how much steven remembers of his past life at any given point, the AI kind of works all too well with his existing identity, so of course even when his real personality shows it just kinda... blends.

and then there's peter's death! we hear of this from one of the company logs in dsaf3, but we also get to see the aftermath of peter dying and steven sending him off in a cutscene seen in the dsaf marionn-ending. steven treats this as natural of a progression as harry does with steven's death, joy of creation, etc etc. however, as steven is leaving, he apologizes to peter, saying he hopes peter can come to forgive him. and that's WILD !!! because that is almost for sure not what phone guys should be doing -- as far as they seem to be programmed, this should be what they want, given harry doesn't apologize to steven on screen and also advocates for phoney-fying the springlocked employee in dsaf3 if you get that cutscene (i need to trigger the scene for myself so i can show screenshots. maybe sometime this week). we get further confirmation that phone guys shouldn't be discussing the phoney-ing process in the notes on steven's recording about peter's death, given it literally says steven was decommissioned for that -- i personally headcanon he wasn't actually but like. regardless. steven defied company policy over this death specifically and then shoved the RAT suit in a backroom where nobody was allowed to go near it. so his feelings on this are clearly a lot stronger than they were in life or than they are in any subsequent deaths. it's so interesting.

lastly we come back to what i can pull from dsaf1 (well... one of the things. i have thoughts and interpretations on some of the sillier stuff too)! which is when steven finds the bloody suits and immediately hops straight to figuring out how to cover it up. it's practically instinct for him to sweep it all under the rug, and he very easily picks jack and hesitates not in the slightest at executing a plan to make this all go smoothly. he expresses some pretty intense emotions about this in the flipside's layer 3 so it's probably safe to say this was something that was weighing on him a lot, or at the least he's reasonably surprised jack would try to save him when it's something that he feels was so awful, but steven still shows no hesitation in the follow through when he's actually doing it. he never apologizes or pauses the way he does when sending peter to the factory, he just... does it. it's how the world works, to him. and the phoney process is part of this, too, but clearly he exhibits some degree of hesitancy over it. i don't have many deep thoughts on what this distinction means presently, it's just curious.

overall for how steven typically behaves, which is uptight and too-serious at best and downright cold and aggressive in his hastiness at worst, the differing reactions he has on deaths or the notion of his OWN death are just so interesting ?? it's something i NEED to study more at some point and figure out what the distinction is beyond the potential "he is a phoney and doesnt like being one" which feels simplified given his feelings on being himself vs being scott. he's soooo interesting

[remuswriting]

YOU KEEP ME CLOSE; SAWAMURA DAICHI

The only time Y/N gets during his shift to take off his binder is his lunch. It goes similarly every day when waiting for it to come around.

WARNINGS: Trans Male! Reader; Fluff; Cashier Things

WORD COUNT: 1,242 words

NOTES: Bestie/coworkers Iwaizumi & Y/N is so important to me. Also, you should be taking breaks with your binder!!! I try to take mine off during my lunch so I don't hurt my ribs. Y/N's ribs aren't bruised in this, just sore from wearing it.

No gender dysphoria in this. It doesn't add anything to it, so I'm just going to keep the lighter vibe going on here.

Breathing hurts—well, it’s more his ribs than breathing.  As he breathes, everything expands, and it hurts.  So, he looks at his watch for the third time in 10 minutes to see how long until his lunch break.  However, minutes feel like hours whenever it gets like this.

“Time doesn’t pass by faster spending it like that,” Iwaizumi says, and Y/N looks over at him.  They’re standing at the end of the aisles for the registers waiting for customers to checkout.

“Time doesn’t pass by fast no matter what you do here,” Y/N says, and he notices a woman with an empty shopping cart walk past them.  He gives her a warm smile.  Retail has to be one of the most painful jobs anyone can have for lots of reasons.  One of them being time never passing by quick enough.

Iwaizumi rolls his eyes, and it’s a better reaction than when he hits Oikawa for something stupid shit.  He’s never hit Y/N before, but Y/N doesn’t think he’s hit anyone but Oikawa before.  It’s most likely a childhood best friend thing that he only gets away with because no one in management has seen him hit sense into Oikawa.

Christmas music plays over the speakers as they straighten up around their registers.  It’s that time where there aren’t too many customers in the store, but even if there are, they want self-checkout.  Y/N focuses on straightening the gum boxes, pretending his chest isn’t aching.

Don’t look at your watch.  Don’t look at your watch.  Don’t—

“Are you okay, L/N?” Iwaizumi asks, and Y/N doesn’t look at him, trying to get things perfectly straight.

“Uh, yeah?” he says, and the boxes aren’t cooperating. “Why?”

“You just… You seem a little off.”

Y/N looks over his shoulder at him, and Iwaizumi just seems concerned.  Y/N is grateful to have Iwaizumi as a coworker, but he can’t just say that he’s in pain because of his binder.  Lunch is the only time he has to take it off and breathe during his eight-hour shift, so he wants it to come faster.  He can’t say that, though.  It doesn’t matter that Iwaizumi wouldn’t hate him.  Y/N just doesn’t tell people.  It’s safer, and he has more control that way.

“I’m just hungry,” he says, which isn’t a lie.  Having to scan warm food from the deli that smells heavenly is making his stomach grumble.  His pocket vibrates, and he quickly pulls his phone out.  He can’t stop himself from grinning. “I speak of food and get a text about lunch.”

“Is Sawamura-san stopping by?”

Y/N nods as he tries to bite down his smile. “Yeah, he needs to buy some ingredients.  I told him what register I’m on.”

“So he’ll be coming to my register,” Iwaizumi says, and he doesn’t sound upset.  There’s actually a faint smile there. (Oikawa once told Y/N that Iwaizumi thinks Daichi is great for Y/N and that he loves seeing Y/N happy.  Iwaizumi would never tell him that, though.)

“Yeah, but it’ll be a while, so you still have to have me for the time being.”

“Hopefully, a customer needs to be checked out soon.”

Y/N gasps, a hand immediately covering his heart. “Iwaizumi-san!  You wound me!”

Y/N laughs while Iwaizumi just shakes his head slightly and goes back to straightening things.  Y/N’s laughter dies down, and he looks at Iwaizumi for a moment before going back to what he was doing.

He was 19 when he came out.  It was an impulsive decision that he figures happened because he was so exhausted from shoving himself into some box that didn’t fit him.  He was forced to be somebody else—future and all.  Absolutely no control of what he could do.  So he snapped.  He cut his hair, informed everyone around him he’s trans, and cut out so many people for not accepting him.  Although it seems so easy to some people, it was so isolating.  It was the most alone he’d ever been, but then he met Sugawara and Daichi, and things fell into place.  Sometimes it feels like a lifetime ago, even though it’s only been three years.

“Are either of you open?” someone asks, and he looks up to see an older woman.  He smiles at her—his retail smile—and nods.

“Yes, I can get you right over here,” he says, and hopefully this makes time move by faster.

Scanning the woman’s groceries takes far longer than he originally thought.  He hadn’t fully processed she had two full carts of groceries until she had unloaded half the first cart on the belt.  It’s fine, though.  He gets through all of it right as Daichi is in Iwaizumi’s line.  They make eye contact, and Y/N smiles at him.

“Your total is going to be—”

“I’ve already inserted my card,” she says, and he nods as he goes through the motions.  That’s when Aran, his manager, appears behind him.

“Go on your lunch after this,” Aran says before looking at the woman with a dazzling smile.  It’s the one he gives customers since it’s so forced, but from first glance, you wouldn’t realize that. “Ma’am, would you like a carryout today?”

She looks at Aran with wide eyes, probably not expecting to be spoken to by him. “Yes,” she says, and the word sounds slightly choked. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Aran says before hurrying around to the other side of the register to help her and Y/N filling up her cart.  As he does so, he speaks into the walkie talkie. “We need a carryout on register 14.”

Kiyoko comes up behind them, and Y/N quickly logs out so she can log in.  He looks at Aran. “I’m going to lunch now.  I’ll tell them to page someone when I pass customer service.”

“Bye, Iwaizumi-san,” Daichi says, and Y/N nearly runs into him at the end of the aisle.  Daichi looks at him and smiles. “Hey there, stranger.”

Y/N smiles back, and he wants to hug him.  He wants to pull him in close, even if it’d hurt a little.  It’s okay because they’ll go home for a while, and he can take off his binder to breathe for a bit.

Instead, he looks down at the reusable bag Daichi always brings with him to the store.  Y/N should be more like his boyfriend in that regard, but he finds that the plastic bags work just fine.  He also doesn’t have to add another step when getting ready to go to the store.

“Hey there,” Y/N says as he looks back at Daichi. “Want to get out of here?”

“And cook you a meal while you breathe?” Daichi asks, and he’s smiling so hard it’s easy to hear in his voice.  Y/N loves him.  He loves him so much, and he wants to say it.  Instead, he nods. “Count me in.”

“Alright, but I have to stop by customer service really fast,” Y/N says, and Daichi quickly glances behind them.

“Does she need a carryout?” he whispers, and Y/N laughs as he nods.

“Yes, and you’re not helping her, Mr. I-help-everyone-I-meet,” Y/N says, and Daichi rolls his eyes.  He follows Y/N to customer service before they head out the door and Y/N waits for his phone to clock him out.  Once it’s finished, he looks up at Daichi. “I’m free for an hour!”

Daichi grabs his hand and pulls him closer. “Then let’s get you home to relax.”

[teecupangel]

unhinged idea i had: desmond and the modern persona series. i am leaning on 3 or 5 because 3 matches desmond well with the whole death thing and it's my favorite in the franchise but also phantom thief desmond... i have no idea how we can incorporate this into ac but maybe desmond is a wild card??? possibly???

Here’s the Desmond in Persona 5 idea we had before and here’s the Desmond in Persona 3 idea we also had before.

Since you did specify Modern Persona series and Persona 4 has always been my favorite of the three, we’re going to go for Desmond arriving in Inaba in the strangest of way…

He was found dangled on one of the telephone poles, right arm heavily burned and unconscious.

He was in a coma for a week before waking up and he thought “they’d definitely give me to Interpol and I’d get taken by Abstergo if I tell them my real identity” so he pretended to have amnesia. So for a few weeks, he’s known as John-san.

And during those few weeks, he was allowed access to a phone to check the net and try and see if he can remember anything.

The first thing he noticed was the date.

2011.

Okay.

That was a lie.

The first thing he noticed was that there was no mention of Abstergo anywhere at all. No ads. Nothing.

So he didn’t even think he timetraveled a year before his death.

No.

Without Abstergo…

He was in a different world.

Fuck.

.

.

Unorganized Notes:

He had to be discharged from the hospital once he was deemed healthy enough and Dojima helped him find a home he can rent and work.

Work turned out to become an employee at Junes because, quoting the manager, Desmond’s foreign looks will attract customers. He works in one of the stands and that specific stand (selling grilled meat and juice) got a 50% increase in profit.

The actual real reason why Dojima helped Desmond stay in Inaba is because he’s super sus of him. His face and fingerprint came up zilch and he even asked ‘favor’ from an American government official (who may or may not be part of a certain intelligent agency) find anything about him.

He casually flirts with Adachi whenever he sees the police officer around Junes. Adachi always splutters and make a fool of himself while Dojima sighs and tells Desmond to stop screwing around. The reason why Desmond is trying to get under Adachi’s skin is because there’s something about him that makes Desmond feel… something. Like he should be looking at something but he doesn’t know what he should be looking at in the first place.

By the time Yu comes to Inaba, Desmond has been staying for three months… trying to get a feel of this world by pretending he was ‘relearning the world’. His Japanese is better know and not as archaic as it was before (he still doesn’t know which Bleed knows Japanese but he’ll take it).

Overall, he’s integrated himself in the small town of Inaba quite well.

Then the murder of Yamano Mayumi happened and Desmond gets roped in because she was found on the cables near a telephone pole, very similar to how Desmond was found.

The police is, of course, suspicious of Desmond. He’s connected to this, either as the first victim who survived or as the culprit/accomplice.

Desmond is definitely curious about what’s happening and that’s when he heard kids… well… talking about the murder.

Desmond wasn’t going to pass it off as kids being kids because he knows what teenagers are capable (Ratonhnhaké:ton being a good example and also Altaïr but Altaïr’s childhood was fucked up from the start in his eyes anyway) so he follows them.

… into the TV because fuck it, what’s the worst that could happen? He’d die?

.

In this one, Desmond serves more as their adult supervision who can’t fight because he has no Persona. They also leave him in the entrance and he’s annoyed by this until… the day Chie joins them after awakening her Persona, he hears a voice.

It’s a man clad in what looks like Assassin robes of some kind, dirty and worn out. Yu, Yosuke, Teddie, and Chie returned (without Yukiko because they need a break) to find Desmond and the hooded figure talking about how Desmond is powerless. He had always been powerless. Nothing has changed.

“All those sacrifices. All those suffering… and for what? You are still as powerless as you have always been, Desmond Miles. Even the strength you have now was never yours from the very beginning. Your strength exists because of their death.”

This finally makes Desmond hit the hooded figure with a right hook and his hood falls off, revealing it was Desmond’s shadow.

But this shadow was old with the golden glow of the Apple on his skin. Desmond, of course, tells him that he wasn’t him and this turns into a boss fight with Yu and the team.

Desmond notices while they fight that his shadow’s fighting style slightly shifts at times and he recognizes each of those shifts because the tell were the small tells he knows his Bleeds would make. He manages to help the team defeat his shadow but telling them what his shadow’s move will be and it ends with Desmond accepting the fact that, yes, his strength did come from others but it was his to use as he sees fit. That he has to accept that the choices he made did mean his ancestors’ actions and sacrifices were for nothing.

And that…

he has to keep moving forward from that.

That’s how his shadow turned into his Persona and how he’s now able to join the team.

(I think for this one, Desmond should only have one Persona unlike in the other Persona ideas. He’s Arcana can still be the Fool because he is starting from the ‘beginning’ or he can also be the World/Aeon if you want to shake it up. His Persona can still shift into three ‘forms’ and his ultimate Persona makes him able to shift into 2 more forms)