#explain your takes to me in the tags/my ask box i dont care what they are i care about how you justify it SEND ME YOUR ESSAYS <3< /div>
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roguelemon · 9 days ago
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The thing with arcane s2 leaving so much blank space / rushing through plot points means that people have managed to get VASTLY different takes, certain characters especially, from the exact same source material.
Some people are basing their opinions only on what they saw, shallower interpretation but less 'made up'. However 90% of the all the 'anti-character' or 'pro-character' takes are clearly very reliant on what people thought would have happened in between the gaps.
Cait, for example, as a highly controversial character in a season where the political undertones set up in s1 were so blatantly sidelined, is analysed in so many different ways, and I'm yet to see something that I dont agree with at least part of.
She used Vi for her own gain and her rise to dictator was always going to happen given her terrible opinions of people in Zaun. Vi deserves better than being 'one of the good ones'. True. 100% true this analysis is often backed up by legitimate reasoning, but also assumes that what happened off screen did not involve any internal conflict, did not involve anything of her trying to help Zaun but being pushed by Ambessa to be more harsh than she wanted. It assumes that her character is supposed to reflect the oppressor that is both capable and GLADLY WILLING.
Cait acted poorly because of her trauma and upbringing, she learns, though not in a linear fashion, from her mistakes. Also usually backed up by sensible analysis, however assumes what happened offscreen DID involve more manipulation on Ambessas part, and that the offscreen interactions with Vi both pre and post dictatorship were more supportive and understanding than what we saw on screen. An interesting thing I myself thought is, we never find out what Cait does between the end of the fight and the council being reinstated, maybe there's more going on than offering Sevika a (performative and clearly frowned upon) seat at the table. Again, what she did in this mid period could be both '"cait is a bigoted opressor' or 'cait doesn't understand her privelage, but at least now shes TRYING.' In this, she is capable due to her weak moral compass and status, but not gladly willing to cause harm.
Season 2 being so rushed means that almost all of the scenes we see are characters in high pressure scenarios, they are reduced to their worst and most desperate often out of no fault of their own. There is as much reason in saying certain characters are awful people as there is in saying they did awful things but can be better.
S2 is a skeleton of a show, it's what you think happened in the flesh of it all that will affect your view of the characters both as individuals and their relationships.
Next time you see somebody and think 'they've mischaracterised my blorbo' or 'he would NOT fucking say that'. Consider that your blorbo is barley a fully functioning character and that the character you think they are is affected by your OPINION as much as it is fact.
Terrible takes exist, especially when a show gets this popular, but can you really call it a terrible take when the 'good takes' use as much assumption to gapfill as the 'bad' ones?
I have my own takes on the main characters, but I ENJOY seeing ones I completely disagree with because seeing other people thought processes is INTERESTING AS FUCK. We were given the same barebones, stripped down season 2 and we both imagined what could have been in different ways, that's cool.
I have more examples, and more I'd like to talk about but that's aside from the main point of this. Provided you haven't just pulled something out of nowhere and decided to ignore what DID actually happen in the show, your takes and theories are as good as anyone's else's.
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mayullla · 3 years ago
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I dont play twisted wonderland, but I wanted to make something for this fandom from reading multiple yan!twst. I kept most things vague, but if I got something wrong about a character tell me. One day when I am finally able to change my phone the first thing i would do is download this game TvT
Edit: I play Twisted Wonderland now-
Tags: fem!reader, child!reader, platonic yandere Characters: School staff
Imagine just a small child was the one who gets taken into twisted wonderland rather than Yuu. The small child doesn't even know where she was as the cat who was surprised kept bugging her with question after queation about how you got here and such.
You cant answer, you didnt even have the answers as you just remember falling asleep on your bed peacefully only to wake up in a huge box opened by a cat.
A talking cat at that.
Dear the stress you gave to the poor thing when you suddenly grabbed the cat's cheeks and just pulled them. Made the poor cat yell in pain.
Crowley found you soon after, shocked to see a small child here in twisted wonderland! As he too started to ask where your parent was and how did you get here even berating the cat for being you here. (The cat Grim just continued to vehemently deny that he was the one who brought you here!!) You could not answer the man, just cheerfully telling the man that you were sleeping in your bed only to wake up here.
After realizing that he can't get any answers from your Crowley just picked you up in his arms as he called the other teachers to his office. 
The other teachers were also surprised when they saw you in Crowley's arms. They had wondered why the headmaster suddenly called for an emergency meeting and expected a few things may have gone wrong or some sort sure...
but a kid??
Sam jokingly asked if you were Crowley's kid that he never told anyone about which Crowley pointedly denied. He soon explained what had happened.
The teachers tried to push you for answers, some almost demanding you to give them till you burst out crying for feeling so much pressure. Professor Mozus suddenly took you away from Crowley's arms comforting you in his arms trying to shush as he glared at the other teachers for being so pushy to a small kid.
Slowly they found out that you were from another realm, not from here and that they cant just easily send you off to your home.
Your family probably thought you were kidnapped at this point!
Crowley had an idea of sending you to an orphanage while he research a way to get you back to your home but reasons aroused that made it impossible to send you away like that.
That the teachers were forced to take care of you.
That would not be a problem at all…. sure…
Who will be taking care of the kid?
It was Mozus who spoke first at the silent atmosphere saying that he would be the one taking care of you tho he would probably occasionally need help if his teacher's duty kept him busy and that was fine with others.
A lot of students were shocked to see you in professor Mozus's arms most of the second years and up have to blink multiple of times or rub their eyes shocked to see a kid with the professor much less smiling at the old guy. The fact that he was also smiling at you made many students believe that this was either a dream or an illusion some choosing to forget the whole thing.
Well, as if that was possible when you follow the old guy to class listening in on the lessons... Listening to the old man or occasionally be seen drawing something while the old man would yell at the student who stared at you for too long.
Sometimes they found you to be with other teachers who looked rather awkward to the fact that they had to watch you. Sometimes they would yell only to hold their tongue when they realize a small child was there in their classroom and might cry like she did last time and they won't be able to fix the situation.
But time went by they grew more and more attached to you. They started to often fight on who you would stay with when Mozus was busy, not only that they started to ask Mozus if he ever wants rest they could help him watch over you. It was suspicious when they do that for Mozus who always deny their offer preferring to be with you than let others take care of you.
It was even annoying when Crowley started to ask Mozus if he could take care of you at that point Mozus's cat would hiss at the headmaster wearing a crow mask daring him not to go near you or even touch you.
Lucius was also the same with the students hissing at those who wanted to talk to you. The more curious students would often try to get close to while the teacher is teaching to ask who you were and if you really were the daughter of professor Mozus or any other questions that had to deal with the rumors floating around not before they were caught by a teacher and shooed away from you.
There were many rumors floating around about you and since they can't go near you and the teachers all give mixed or vague answers none of those rumors were able to be put to rest.
There were rumors where people thought that you were the daughter of Professor Mozus who gave his daughter to the other professors to take care of her every so often. That somehow Professor Mozus had either fallen in love or had a one night stand incident or just something when tho almost nobody could believe that.
Professor Mozus would often smile if asked if you were his daughter about it not denying or accepting the rumors to be true, while other teachers would quickly deny any claims of it which only made things all the more suspicious really. (Tho everybody saw the sour face professor Mozus had when asked about the mother.)
Mozus would get you to wear a more sophisticated look with dark colors and frills occasionally he would make you wear a more pastel lolita style, it makes you look as if you were really the daughter of Mozus which the professors absolutely dislike. So whenever they got you they would quickly swap your outfit that Mozus picked into something more their style. Crowley probably has a small mask and coat that is similar to his when he would make you wear as you go around campus carried in his arms as you giggled at how ticklish the feathers on the mask were.
When you are in Divus's hands you would be wearing a small white fur coat as he told you to straighten your back and chin up. The professor tries to make you a model somtimes and would nag you to keep the jacket on even when you feel stuffy. While Sam would make you wear clothes oh his color tones with an added skull as you try and help around the shop (most things he wouldn't dare you to touch would be placed on the high shelves). Same for Ashton where he would make you wear something of sports wear.
At some point, the professors started fighting for your attention trying to get you to come them that day with promises, candy, toys and even more. The students who have seen this happening cannot believe their ears so much so that they again choose to believe that all this was a dream and nothing more, choosing in the end to forget what had happened and when somebody talks about it they block their ears and started a shout as if doing that could deny them the reality of what has happened.
It was never said that Crowley stopped seaching for a way for you to go back. They didnt want you to leave having grown so attached to you, they wanted to be with you, they wanted you to stay while they became your official guardians.
So when you started to cry wanting to see your parents, they will soothe you by telling you that it was alright, that it was okay that they would be with you and that they would never abandon you. They would not disappear like your parents did and they would love you more than your parents ever did.
Really it is rather often that some of the teachers would fight over who actually becomes your father, sure all of them became your guardians but who is like your father? Sam is alright being your uncle so long as he was your favorite uncle but like it was never decided who is your father…
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Frank fathering a little girl,
but shes older now hcs
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Reader: Female
Type: headcannons (part 4)
Notes/Warnings: Typical Violence, shit gets real in the end, also may make a whole fic off this bc I enjoyed these ideas so much.
Dedicated to: @pietromaximoffluvr so they can live out there dreams
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You're super glad you have your relationship is back on track: old man and kid, father and daughter back at it again.
He knows he cant stop you from being a vigilante and shit he cant even stop himself, not that he finds himself much of one
So the least he can do is protect you more: showing you how to handle yourself better, using others weight, knives, the whole shebang
Turns out you actually knew how to do alot of that already
He wonders how? And you tell him you've watched the best at work, him hes the best
Doesnt mean he cant kick your ass though, he still does, decorated marine corp? Remember
But that doesnt mean you didnt land one or two punches on him.
"Come on old man I can take it."
"No. No you can't"
"Yeah I can come on! I can!"
First few times you couldnt take it but now you can
You'll both patch each other up, he'd never gone too far with you, but sometimes you do run into things so you'll stich each other up
You go out and box Peter too, you know show him how much you improved. You improved alot, shit maybe your even Avengers Quality?
Oh Tony for sure sticks his nose into your business now
There was a knock on the door luckily Frank was out and you had put all the guns in hidden locations while you tiddied up.
Opening the door you smiled, "Hey! Peter nice to see you- how did you get my address?"
"Me. That was me," a man spoke rushing to stand behind Peter, "Names. Stark. Tony Stark you probably knew that already."
"I could give one shit man." You shrugged, "Never seen you before to be honest."
"Iron man?" He asked.
You shrugged in confusion, "you dont look very iron to me."
"Thats not the point kid. Spiderling here's got some pretty hefty stuff on you. Being what? A dead terroists kid-"
It was quick you pullled the gun from the back of your pants, aiming it at his head.
"I advise you to say your next word very careful."
"Woah! Y/n! Y/n! Its okay!-"
"Its words." Tony argued, "my next words very carefully"
"You should be glad I'll even give you one."
So Tony likes you for sure.
Stark Approved
And once peter got you to chill out, you brought them in and let him explain.
"We need a sniper."
"In your dreams."
"It'll pay well" Tony spoke under his breath, "Just...sayin..."
You watched him hand over a check, and you snatched it, this check? Could set you and Frank for a while.
"Thats just a little over half of it."
"So what am I an Avenger now if I take this?"
"No." Peter spoke, "You can't become one so easily- trust me-"
"Yeah sure why not."
"Fine. I'll do it."
Luckily it was a one hit job, simple enough, and you went home clean, your prints not there, you not even existing within the parameters of the scene afterwards
And you were able to hand over the check to Frank.
He was disappointed in you, clearly he showed you how to shoot a gun, but not how to line up your morals
But once he learned you were simply backup, nothing more, but did shoot the guys kneecaps out to let the others to tag him and throw him in jail of where ever they sent him. He was relieved.
He sat you down and talked to you about how this wasnt about money, it wasnt about fame, it was about whats right.
So you promise to take no more jobs for money.
And he's proud of you: and also wants to kill this Tony Stark guy now
On a positive note, you guys go out for breakfast every sunday still and go to the Parker household for Sunday Dinner.
Thats where he hears about school events, because you wouldnt tell him, not that you didnt want him there: you knew he couldnt go.
"Did you get the email?" Peter questioned, Y/n looking up from her plate.
"No what email?"
"About the dance tickets-"
He ow'ed quickly as Y/n had kicked him, quickly clearing his throat and shoveling food in his mouth.
"This is Junior prom for the both of you?" May asked.
Peter and Y/n glancing at each other: "No Ma'm..." Y/n responded.
"Its a parent child thing." Y/n responded, "Funraiser type deal.."
"Like a Father daughter dance?" Frank questioned.
Peter nodded, "Yes sir."
You didnt talk much else during dinner had feeling as if you got caught once again.
You were quiet on the ride home too.
"Were you gonna tell me?" Frank questioned, parking the car.
Y/n shook her head no keeping her eyes forward.
"I know you can't go." Y/n told him, "I know you would of tried to go to. Its not worth the risk."
He sighed, hand running over the bottom half of his face in thought; "Come on. Its late."
You were glad there was no arguement. It wasnt worth it.
You didn't know how to dance either
And Peter had asked you to help him pratice as he was going with his Aunt.
You did, but damn did your feet hurt afterwards, how many times he steped on them.
He still had time to learn atleast.
Meanwhile school was good, you didn't hang out with Liz but rather MJ, Ned and Peter. Especially during lunch or after-school.
You're grades were good. You were good.
Life was good.
That was until Matt Murdock was waiting outside of school for you.
And now your guiding him through the streets.
"Haven't argued with you in a while." Matt started, "I miss you at confessional."
Y/n laughed, Matt smiling at his own stupid joke.
"I don't regret anything. Not as of recent." Y/n told, "I'll call you up when I do. Plus you know the church is quiet enough for me to clear my head."
Matt chuckled, "Good times good times. But this isn't about Confessional or your religion."
Y/n looked at him, "Yeah? Whats this about then Murdock?"
"Friendship." Matt responded.
"A bit werid to be hangin out with a 17 year old Matt."
"Let me rephrase that. Let's have a cup of coffee? Maybe a small meal and talk about how you know Im Daredevil and I know your Bullet Red."
Ah shit....
Yeah your keeping that one secret from Frank for sure.
So between being busy with school and now building a soild frienship with Matt, keeping up Vigalntte work and Stark trying to get you to permanently join the team your for sure busy.
But you prevail, and still find time to spend with your old man. Even if you push off something for a good hour or two to just get a nap with your head in his lap while he reads
Or for him to braid your hair
Weekly breakfast, your keeping strong on sundays
So you forsure didnt realize Frank kinda sneaking around.
Turns out he was gonna buy you a dress for that father daughter dance, but he's never really seen you in anything but pants so he just went with a suit
Your both not fuckin with ties
Open collar and button for the win
Still you dont realize what he's done till the day off.
You walking into your room to see the suit nicely laid on on the bed.
"Karen helped me pick it out."
Y/n turned around, Frank leaning against the door frame, he dressed in the classic colors, black and white. His shirt white and his coat and pants black.
"What's it for?" Y/n questioned, looking back down at the suit.
"What's the point in being your old man if I can't get you into danger some times?" He asked with a playful shrug, "Come on get dressed."
She smiled at him, he leaving her room, closing her door with a smile.
He's gonna cry when you seem come around that corner, some heels Karen had let Frank Borrow for you accompanied the slightly baggy suit, it matching Franks except you had a few more buttons undone that him.
He thinks your so beatiful, his little girl all grown up.
Not that grown up to have those buttons undone though, no he fixed those
"I like it like that."
"Its cold."
"We're inside-"
"Its cold."
God was he so proud.
He'll hold your face with a hand, rubbing a thumb over your cheek, god hes so proud of you
Has he mentioned how proud of you he is?
"Would you look at you..." He smiled, "all grown up..."
You know this is special for him, with whats happened to his own kids and wife.
You can only pull away from his hand and hug him instead,
He knows that this is when he has to slowly start letting you go, you're becoming an adult
"My baby girl all grown up."
"Okay. Don't start cryin on me old man."
"Pfft. Yeah right..." he spoke, pulling away and "rubbing" his eyes.
He drives you both to the school where the dance is being held.
You both stick to the walls, being both wall flowers.
But you make small talk with May and Peter.
Even Ned came along with Mj but they were there on "volunteer hours"
"What did you both do this time?" Y/n asked with a smile.
"I was asked." MJ spoke, "to volunteer."
"And you?" Y/n asked Ned.
"I didnt dress for PE."
"Kinda harsh punishment for not dressing." Y/n spoke and Ned shrugged, "anyways this is the Old man. You know. The construction worker."
Ned kinda geeked, I mean The Punisher is just a Superhero in bad light. Right?
Mj was super chill though
You swear if one more honry highschool comes up to you and says hi to you just to be near Frank your gonna snap a neck
Like...they never liked you in the first place...and there moms
Its like there arguing over Frank and its GROSS
Luckily a new decent song starts and You ask him if you two can go do a cheesey father daughter slow dance
Thank god he never thought he get away quick enough
"Thanks for saving my ass kid." Frank thanks.
Y/n shrugs, "Got my old mans back is all. Plus what horn dogs."
He laughs, arm hand on your waist and other hand in yours, your hand is on his shoulder.
She smiles at him, "Plus I might get jealous,"
He shakes his head: "Wouldnt want to see that now."
Y/n shrugs, with a smile, "I don't know. I go run off my friends for a mintye just for you run off with a mysterious woman into the night."
"Keep usin that imagination of yours." He snarked.
"Im being serious. Maybe you do need a girlfriend."
Frank just shakes his head, "Your all the girl I need. Just an Old man and his not so much kid."
"Don't tell me that means breakfast on Sunday is canceled?"
"Never in a-"
He's cut off by an explosion, you pulling him to the floor quickly and him covering you with his own body, arms wrapped around your head in a protective matter.
You don't know what happened, a pipe burst? Something in the science lab? You couldnt get the ringing out your ears to even focus
But you know someones pulling you to your feet and its not Frank.
So you fight back, its a man dressed in black, and not like "oh im a vigilante" shade, it's "im the bad guy" shade
Your earings are still ringing and it throws you off balance, you get your ass kinda handed too you before Peter Dress as Spiderman and a very late Matt Murdock dressed as Daredevil come in to save you and others.
"Y/n! Y/n! It's me!" Matt shouts at you, he pulled you into an empty hallway, hoping to get you back on your feet.
You're grabbing at his shoulders, theres a large wound on your temple, you cant hear him.
Its buzzy, and it rings, thats all your ears can hear.
Your shaking your head at him, eyes fill up with tears.
"Hey! Hey! Y/n! Where is Frank!"
Why can't you hear him.
"Y/n!" It finally reaches your ears loud and clear along with the blaring firealarm.
"Y/n! Where is Frank!?"
You can only shake your head, "I. I don't know!"
"Come on we're getting out of here-"
"No. Im not leaving without Frank!"
He knows your gonna be stubborn but he also needs you safe.
So lucky the art rooms right there and he can put a mask on your face, orginally used for spray painting and you guys are off.
You find a gun on the ground and use that to your advantage. Theres smoke in the gym, where some people still are.
You know the enemy is still here and are catious.
Your pretty good at hearing the bullet before its shot, and are able to shoot that bullet so they collide and stop, or splinter small enough to not too major damage.
"That is enough!"
It goes silent, the three all hidden within eyesight of each other, and all look at each other confused.
"I see the Devil of Hell's kitchen does not work alone! Not anymore!" The man laughed, "You must have heard of me. I had a run in with your father when you were younger Ms.Castle."
Y/n tensed, "now my intentions are not to kill him. Not yet aleast! Frank Castle is a vaulable too-"
"You stay the fuck away from Frank!" Y/n shouted in anger, "If you touch him I swear to fucking god! I'll rip your throat out!"
"Just like your father." He laughed, "Watch who you make friends with Ms.Caslte."
"Don't go." Matt argued quietly to her, he could sense her getting ready to fire, "play this smart."
Y/n stayed silent, hearing the men moving and the man leaving.
They came out from Cover, the room empty besides the people hiding for cover.
Your so angry, you could have protected him, you could have saved him.
Matt and Peter have to argue with you to play this smart
You just want him back
"He took my dad." Y/n panted, "He took all I fucking had!"
"I know. I know." Matt spoke, "we have to play this smart. He knows how to get under your skin. You have to calm down."
Peter griminced at the cut as he touched it causing you to wince: "We have to close this first."
"I just want him back." Y/n cried.
"I know. I know." Matt spoke, "and we'll get him back. He threated people we all care about."
"Who is he?"
"His names Fisk. Wilson Fisk."
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thecataclysmic6 · 2 years ago
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hihi!! sorry if this is weird kr whatever but I just realized I'm a system!! but the issue is I know next to nothing about roles and headspace(?) and everything. how do you find that stuff out? is there a beginners guide?? pls there's silly little people in my head and idk what to do about it -☁️🌱 (tag with ☁️🌱 so I can find this ask again pls? <3)
We can definitely try! Each system is different, so our experiences might also be very different. We're also still learning about what being a system entails ourselves (as we like to say, we're not a doctor, we're a patient lol).
Anyways! As we understand it, roles describe what part each alter plays in a system and can also just provide insight for others about that alter. They're not mutually exclusive or rigid, so they can overlap and even change over time.
An important distinction is between the ANPs and the EPs, that's a good place to start.
ANPs are "Apparently Normal Parts". Otherwise known as alters who take care of day to day life and usually have little to know recollection of trauma. They may have high amnesia and identify heavily with the body. A common alter type to fall under this are 'hosts'. In our system, I (Cat🐈‍⬛️) am the host and I have alot of amnesia around trauma. I'm an ANP.
EPs are "Emotional Parts". These are alters who hold onto trauma, are usually formed to keep the trauma hidden from the system, or alters who have been formed to handle specific experiences. A good example of this in our system is Ren✨️, who is a trauma holder and split to help with that specific trauma.
From there they can be placed into a bunch of other roles. Keep in mind, alters tend to be fully formed personalities and may not take to kindly to being placed in boxes. Assigning certain roles takes cooperation, communication, and time. All of which are difficult for some systems to form, don't worry if it doesn't happen immediately and don't try and rush it.
The headspace is generally what systems use to refer to the place alters exist when they are not fronting. It can be a safe place that became internalized. Each systems headspace will look different, and some don't have one at all! Ours for a very long time was just a black empty void, but over time it's changed to a black empty void but with a library.
At the moment, sysblr is very focused on endogenic vs. traumagenic. (Note we are neutral on this discourse and prefer to stay at minimum 10ft away at all times, please dont ask us our opinions on it cause it stresses us out) So alot of our sources will be outside of tumblr blogs.
Essentially endogenic systems are systems formed without trauma, while traumagenic is formed from either an incident or long term related trauma (very simplified). Keep in mind, systems are usually formed to protect from trauma and you should not go looking for evidence of trauma without guided assistance from a professional such as through therapy. Honestly, my advice is to avoid this discourse until you get a better grasp on being a system. (It can be kinda a cesspool and just not a safe place for new systems)
My best advice is to try and set up communication with your system. This can be a very long process for some but it's a good step.
Anyways long post rambling aside, I asked a few other systems to help me gather some good resources for you. I hope these can be some bit of help! Note: alot of these resources are dedicated to DID specific systems but can also be useful to other types of systems. CW: there may be triggering topics mentioned, please read with caution. Here's some that we all gathered together:
A Book about living with alters (explains headspace and developing communication):
Book describing dissociation:
Blog full of multiple coping mechanisms to help with being a system. (They also have a list of more resources on their blog)
An online list of common Alter Roles and Terminology (not conclusive and some are outdated):
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mizunetzu · 4 years ago
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Kuroo x reader - Kuroo’s Pocky Scheme!
⚠️ Warnings - Kuroo being a desperate simp, none!!
Pronouns - male, he/him
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Kuroo stared at the doorknob to the schools kitchen-y room. It was such a desperate, bottom-of-the-barrel move, but he was literally just that. A desperate simp.
He sighed and pushed open the door, more forcefully than he intended. A small, blonde girl jumped and whipped her petite form around.
Kuroo raised his arms in defense. “I come in peace, Yachi-san.”
The girl, Yachi, visibly relaxed. She let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding. “O-oh...you’re...sorry, I don’t remember your name, but you’re Nekoma’s captain right? Oh god, what if you told me your name and I forgot gosh I am so-“
“No-no! It’s fine, I dont think we’ve ever talked.” Kuroo nudged the door shut, and dropped his voice into a whisper. “Ok, hear me out. I gotta huge-and-kinda-stupid favor to ask.”
“M-m-me?! Wh-wh-whaddya need from me?!”
“Well-calm down, I don’t ‘need’ much from you, no offense.” Kuroo leaned against the door. “Uh-first lemme explain-and promise not to make a big deal outta this, okay?”
Yachi nodded. Kuroo looked around the room, seeing only Yachi and a big watermelon inside.
“So. I may or may not have a tiny...crush, on (Y/n).”
Yachi blinked. “Wait, who’s (Y/...(Y/n)..? (L/n) (Y/n)?! Oh my-!”
“That’s besides the point!” Kuroo flushed, waving his hands up to hush Yachi. He felt so pathetic. He felt like a desperate schoolgirl, coming up with ideas on how to get his crush to notice him with his school girl friends.
“Anyways,” Kuroo shakily ran a hand through his untamable hair. “I’m...uh, I’m kind of desperate, and I feel like I’m gonna explode if I don’t...kiss him soon.” That last part came out in a mumble. He shook his head.
Kuroo snapped a finger at Yachi. “That’s where you come in.”
Yachi nodded dumbly. She really had no incentive to helping out this...tall, scary man. But, if she recalled correctly, (Y/n) was close friends with him-so he should be perfectly safe, right?
“I need you,” Kuroo fished a red box of Pocky out of his Nekoma jacket. “To go up to (Y/n), and ask if you can kiss him. He’ll probably say no, but if you ask him and say you’ll do it Pocky-game style, he’ll say yes. He never rejects food.”
Yachi deadpanned. Then, she erupted into vast shades of red. “W-wait-! But I don’t like him! Why do I have to kiss him-!”
“No! Let me finish!” Kuroo was losing his cool. His desperate simp was really showing, huh. “Once he says yes, tell him to keep his eyes closed because you’re embarrassed or something, and while his eyes are closed-you and me will switch places and I’ll eat the Pocky in your place! I get my kiss, and I’ll owe you absolutely anything!”
Yachi sputtered. What if it went wrong? What if he didn’t switch in time and her poor first kiss was taken by this boy she wasn’t that interested in? He’d think she was interested in him and she’d have to marry him and have to live in a cave hiding for the rest of her life-!
“I’ll do it.” A mature, level headed voice suddenly pipped up. Kuroo and Yachi both flinched in suprise. The door softly pushed open.
“But if I may, I do have a few suggestions.” Kiyoko scratched at her collar, walking in and inspecting the two.
“Yeah-me too.” Yaku follower in after Kiyoko, sending a mocking lifted gaze over to Kuroo. Kuroo looked away in embarrassment. “Like, I don’t know, be more quiet so everyone-including (L/n)-kun, doesn’t hear about your stupid Pocky plan.”
Kuroo usually would’ve opened his mouth to retort, but Yaku could easily warn (Y/n) of his plan, and it would immediately fall into shambles. He probably wouldn’t get his kiss then. Kuroo, regretfully, kept his mouth shut.
“Anyways,” Kiyoko cut in, breaking the heated glare Yaku and Kuroo gave eachother. “I can ask him in Hitoka-chan’s place. But, I do have a few concerns.”
Kiyoko held her finger up. “One-how do we know he’s going to say yes in the first place? Even with the Pocky-“
“No, no. (Y/n) never refuses anything to do with food. I even got him to forcefully drag Kenma out of his room by offering to cook him dinner last year. He and Kenma had bruises all over. A kiss is nothing to him.”
Kiyoko hummed, seemingly accepting Kuroo’s answer. She held up her second finger. “Second, how will we-well I, ask him without seeming suspicious? If I ask him alone, and we do it alone, that won’t give Kuroo-san the opportunity to slip in and switch with me.”
“But if she asks him and all if us are, y’know, there, he’ll think somethings up or we’re tryna make fun of him.” Yaku finished her thought. Kiyoko nodded.
Kuroo blinked. He didn’t think this far. “Uh...”
“W-well, what if Shimizu-senpai asked (L/n)-kun while he was talking to uhm...Kuroo-senpai, and he tags along because he wants to just...be there...and Shimizu-senpai takes him to a room where me and...sorry, I-I don’t really know your name but-“ Yachi pointed at Yaku. “To a room with me and him in it?”
Yaku blinked. “Wait, wouldn’t it be suspicious If Shimizu took him into a room just to find us sitting there?”
“W-well...Wouldn’t it be more suspicious and awkward for Kuroo-senpai to be there alone with them? We can just, sit there and pretend to talk with Kuroo-senpai until (L/n)-kun closes his eyes.”
“Holy shit, that’s a great idea...” Kuroo rubbed his head in disbelief. If he had gone through with his original plan, he would’ve failed so hard. “Well then-what are we waiting for? Lets go-“
“I have one more thing.” Kiyoko turned to Yachi.
“Hitoka-chan, if what Kuroo-san is saying is true, we should have no problem asking him to do the Pocky game with me, but realistically, it would make more sense if you ask him.”
Yachi’s eyes widened. Kiyoko continued. “I’m a year above him, and since much upperclassman girls don’t...idolize and fawn over underclassman like the ones in his grade or first-years do, it would feel a bit weird if I asked him.”
“You, on the other hand,” Kiyoko grabbed the box of Pocky from Kuroo’s hands and placed them gently on Yachi’s. “Are perfect for this, since girls like you seem to gravitate towards (L/n)-kun. The ‘shy-girl-who-wants-to-kiss-her-crush’ type. And we’ll reenforce it with the Pocky according to Kuroo-san.”
Yachi was quiet for a second, then she opened her mouth. “O-okay...I guess I’m doing it then...”
“Wheey!” Kuroo clapped his hands. “You guys are so nice, helping me with my boy problems.”
Yaku jabbed a finger at Kuroos face. “Yeah, you owe us big time Mr. Docosahexaenoic face.”
“You aren’t even doing anything, though.”
——
“(Y-Y/-!” Yachi was standing behind (Y/n). Her mumbles of “(Y/-!” were practically inaudible as the sticks inside the Pocky box rattled around in her shaking fingers. Kuroo side eyed Yachi, nudging his head to (Y/n)-who was talking to him so obliviously-egging her to go on.
“(L/n)-kun!” Yachi tensed and downcast her whole head, suddenly finding immense interest in the small rip in her shoes. (Y/n) turned around, facing away from Kuroo.
“Yes? Yachi-san? Did you need—is that Pocky? Can I have some?”
Yachi almost threw the box straight into the air. (Y/n) had his eyes fixated hungrily on the Pocky box, pointing at it gently with his hand. Yachi cleared her throat nervously. She felt her heart hammering in her chest.
“I-I-please don’t take this in a weird way but-c-can I k-k-kiss you-?!”
Yachi bowed down in a sharp 90 degree angle, making (Y/n) step back awkwardly. He looked at Kuroo, who gave him an innocent shrug, and looked back at Yachi.
“Uh-I’m sorry, Yachi-san, I don’t really-“
“We can do it Pocky game style! A-and I’ll let you have all of the Pocky afterwards! Please! Please! Please!”
(Y/n) eyes flickered back and forth from the box of Pocky up to Yachi’s sweaty, bowing hair. He really wanted that Pocky too. It was just a kiss, he never really cared about sentimental things like “first kisses” and whatnot. Plus, he’d get a whole box of Pocky afterwards.
“Okay then.”
“Really?!” Yachi raised her head, and (Y/n) nodded.
“You better keep your end of the deal and give me the Pocky afterwards, though.”
“I promise I will-!” Yachi stiffly bowed again, before trotting off with (Y/n) trailing behind her. “W-we can do this in the managers bed rooms!”
“Ok...” They walked in awkward silence. After a few seconds of contemplating, (Y/n) turned around.
“Tetsu, why are you coming?”
Kuroo shrugged. “Am I not allowed to come? I want some Pocky too.”
(Y/n) pursed his lips. “I mean I give you like, two, but don’t you think you’ll make Yachi-san uncomf-“
“It’s fine! I-I don’t care if he comes!” Yachi said a bit too quickly. (Y/n) eyed her suspiciously. Both Kuroo and Yachi broke into a cold sweat.
“...okay...let’s keep going, then.”
Yachi and Kuroo let out a breath they didn’t know they were holding.
——
“Hello.”
“Yo.”
Yaku held up a peace sign while Kiyoko waved. (Y/n) raised an eyebrow, waving back.
“I thought we were doing this in private?”
Yachi tensed. “W-well this is private enough for me...”
(Y/n) softly plucked the box of Pocky away from Yachi, walking away from them to sit down and open the box. Yachi and Kuroo shared a knowing, determined glance while Yaku and Kiyoko pretended to immerse themselves in conversation.
(Y/n) fished out a Pocky stick, and sat cross-legged on the bed mats. He waved it around, eventually settling to pointing it towards Yachi. “Sit down, so we can do this.”
“Yes!” Yachi dropped down abruptly, sitting in front of (Y/n). Kuroo walked over as nonchalant as possible and plopped down near Yachi. (Y/n) looked at him skeptically.
“Whaaaat. I just wanna see my good friend (Y/n) have his first kiss.”
“Pervert. Just say you wanna kiss Yachi-san and leave, you creep. Or do you wanna kiss from me instead?”
(Y/n) soft clad smile turned into a teasing smirk, making Kuroo break into another cold sweat. His heart started picking up speed once (Y/n) placed a Pocky stick, chocolate side first, between his lips. They looked so soft.
“C-close your eyes please, (Y/n)-kun.”
(Y/n) hummed from the stick in his mouth. “Eh? But they’re already...closed?”
“I-I meant keep them closed! ...this is...this is embarrassing so-!”
“Gotcha, Yachi-san. Don’t worry, I won’t bite.” (Y/n’s) gentle smile reappeared as he smiled with the biscuit in his mouth. “Now, bite on to the Pocky already.”
Yachi turned over to Kuroo. Kuroo, as slowly as he could, shuffled his way into Yachi’s previous spot, in time while Yachi backed away. Yachi could see the way Kuroo’s hands shook as he placed himself down in-front of (Y/n), who was waiting ever-so-patiently with his fingers tracing the Pocky box.
“Yachi-san?” (Y/n’s) confused voice came out a bit muffled. Yachi squeaked out a quick “G-give me a second-!”, and (Y/n) couldn’t help but tell how far her voice sounded, even if it was just sightly father. Eh, he was probably just imagining things.
Kuroo was sweating buckets. He never thought his plan would work so smoothly. Hell, he didn’t think he’d actually be going through with it in the first place.
“God, hurry it up Kuuuua...” Yaku trailed off into a cough. “-Yachi-san. Hurry up ‘Yachi-san’, and stop staring at (L/n)-kun like that.”
Kuroo glared at Yaku, almost responding with a “shut the fuck up!”, before letting his mouth clamp shut frustratedly. He looked at Yachi for assistance. Yachi got the memo, and responded with a “I-I’m trying-! I’m just so nervous...!”
“Awwe...don’t be nervous, Yachi-san! Just think of it like we’re eating Pocky and our lips just so happen to touch.” (Y/n) smiled, and licked his lips the best he could. The chocolate part of his end was starting to melt, and the stick was getting soft in his mouth.
“The Pocky is melting...”
“I-I-I’m on it! Sorry, I’m doing it now..!” Yachi frantically motioned at (Y/n) to Kuroo. Kuroo nervously gestered back, as if to say “I’m fuckin’ trying..!”
Kuroo gulped, trying to swallow the lump in his throat, and closed his lips around the Pocky stick. This was really happening. He was going to kiss his long time crush. He was going to kiss (Y/n). Oh god, he’s awfully close. He’s closer than he’s ever been. Why won’t his heart just shut up and calm down?
Before he knew it, (Y/n) was nibbling at his end of the biscuit. The distance was becoming shorter. He wasn’t ready. He wasn’t ready. He wasn’t ready. He thought he was fully prepared to come into this all suave and nonchalant, but now that it was happening all of his preparedness flew out the window. He starting eating at his end of the stick aswell.
Both (Y/n) and Kuroo stopped eating once there was less than a inch of the stick separating them. (Y/n) briefly felt ‘Yachi’s’ nose brush against his, and Kuroo could feel the barely noticeable breaths of air from his nose.
The room was silent. Either that, or the vociferous thumping of his heart rate picking up speed drowned out Yaku and Shimizu’s voices.
And now that he was closer, he could see just how nervous (Y/n) was. His eyelids were fluttering, his brows were slightly pulled down, his nose was scrunched up just a tad, and his fingers were nervously tracing the packaging of the Pocky box. Even if it was cute, Kuroo couldn’t help but feel a bit bad.
But a plan was a plan. And he’d been waiting for years.
Kuroo broke down the last remaining barrier from his lips to (Y/n’s), letting the small Pocky nub lay on his tongue as he connected their lips together. He heard a small “yaay.” From who he assumed was Shimizu, and an obnoxious “Get it, ‘Yachi-san’!”, followed by a wolf whistle from Yaku.
He felt (Y/n) push closer, tentatively and unintentionally grabbing hold of Kuroo’s hand in the process. Kuroo intertwined his fingers with (Y/n’s), and that touch alone probably gave him away, but he couldn’t care less. (Y/n) could coil away in disgust right now, and he wouldn’t care. He got his kiss. A kiss that tasted like Pocky and (Y/n). A kiss he’s been waiting for for forever. His, and (Y/n’s), first.
Kuroo was the first to pull away. Half lidded and breathless, he sat back on his ass with a sigh. (Y/n) started to open his eyes, when Yachi’s scrambled to cover them.
“D-don’t look..! Please! I-I’m-uh, I’m still...embarrassed..!” Yachi looked back at Kuroo, who seemed to have come back to his senses, and shuffled back into the spot he was in originally. Yachi crawled over back in front of (Y/n), and removed her hands gently. She placed them in her lap, looking down with a blush no one in that room could tell was genuine or real good acting.
(Y/n) opened his eyes softly. His smile returned to his swollen lips, and he leaned his head on his palm. “That wasn’t so scary, right?”
(Y/n) clasped his hands together. “Congrats, you can officially say you stole (L/n) (Y/n’s) first kiss! Now you got something to brag about, huh, Yachi-san?” (Y/n) chuckled, still feeling the warmth of ‘Yachi’s’ lips pressed against his.
Yaku scoffed quietly. “Yeah, aha. ‘Yachi’ stole your first kiss.” He earned a flick to the forehead by Kiyoko.
Yachi stood up abruptly. “I-I’m gonna go! Uh-..brag...to my...f-friends.”
“Don’t go spreading rumors about me though.” (Y/n) looked up at Yachi, who squeaked out a “Yessir!” In reply. Kiyoko stood up aswell.
“I’m going to go with Hitoka-chan. See you three.” Kiyoko walked over to Yachi, seemingly ushering her out the door discreetly and shooting Yaku a look. Yaku stood up aswell.
“Well I don’t wanna be in here with you two. Pretty Boy and Docosahexaenoic Face. I’m gonna go see what Kai or Shibayama-kun is doing.”
Yaku shoved his hands in his pockets and walked out of the room, leaving Kuroo and (Y/n) sitting there alone.
Kuroo laid down on the floor next to (Y/n), resting his arms on the back of his neck like a cushion. (Y/n) sat there placidly, smiling at his reward that was the Pocky box.
(Y/n) fished a stick out, and munched on it happily. Kuroo looked at (Y/n), and closed his eyes with a smirk.
“So, how’d it feel having your first kiss with a cute girl?“
(Y/n) hummed, and took another bite of his snack.
“You’re not a bad kisser, Tetsu.”
Kuroo choked on his words. (Y/n) crunched on another Pocky stick. Kuroo sputtered and shot back up, staring at (Y/n) with wide, embarrassed eyes.
“Wh-h-how-wait-“
“To be honest you would’ve gotten away with it if it weren’t for, hm, 3 things.”
(Y/n) held up a single Pocky stick. “Number one. When our hands touched. It was pretty obvious your hand was too big to be Yachi-san’s, so that was a bit suspicious.”
Kuroo opened his mouth to say something. (Y/n) pulled out another Pocky stick.
“Two. When we broke the kiss, I heard you grunt. You would have literally no reason to do that unless you, per se, break a kiss and need to breathe in. And your voice, again, is too deep to be Yachi-san’s.”
Kuroo couldn’t do anything but helplessly stare at him, as he pulled out a third Pocky stick.
“Three.” (Y/n) set all three biscuits into Kuroo’s lap, to which he absentmindedly picked up. “You don’t really think I couldn’t see you? My eyes were open right up until we started eating the Pocky, Tetsurou. I was squinting...and you all were acting suspicious, so how could I not? Not to mention how weird it was for you to be sitting so conveniently close to me and Yachi-san.”
“If anything, if you weren’t planning something and you actually just wanted to watch, you would’ve sat near Yaku-kun once you saw him.”
Kuroo averted his eyes and broke a Pocky stick with his teeth, chewing on it to fill his mouth and prevent him from saying something stupid.
“And, even if none of those things happened,” (Y/n) pulled out another stick, this time twirling it around in his fingers. “I heard you discussing your ‘plan’ earlier in the kitchen. You really need to work on your volume, like Yaku-kun said.”
(Y/n) stood up, stretching his arms with a small groan. All Kuroo could do was stare up at him dumbly. He almost had a perfect scheme. Almost.
(Y/n) turned his head around, his back still facing Kuroo. “Next time you wanna kiss, buy me dinner and we can suck spaghetti noodles until it meets in the middle. Y’know, like in that one movie.”
(Y/n) waved around his Pocky box in farewell. “I’m gonna go see what Kenma and Hinata-kun are doing. Later, Tetsu.”
(Y/n) timpered off, shutting the door behind him. Kuroo stared at the door blankly.
“(Y/n), you sneaky bastard.”
——————
Happy new year!!
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make-me-imagine · 4 years ago
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Daffodils: New Beginnings
Valentines Special: Day Eight
Day One: Morning Glories  //  Day Two: Blue Salvias Day Three: Sunflowers  //  Day Four: Pink Camellias Day Five: Yellow Tulips   //  Day Six: Violets Day Seven: Lisianthus - Day Nine: Red Roses (link to post with all endings listed)
Plot: The reader keeps receiving flowers and sweet messages every day from an anonymous source leading up to Valentines Day. But who is sending them?
Choose your own character ending (coming on Valentines Day).
Gender!Neutral Reader x ???
Triggers: Brief mention of fighting        Words: 1,569
Marvel Taglist: @aquariuslavenderhoney​​​, @thebookbakery​​​, @groovyfluxie​​ Requested Taglist: @spuffyfan394​​​, @gaitwae​​​, @fablesrose​​​, @kitkatd7​​​, @thefallenbibliophilequote​​​, @beksib​​​, @destynelseclipsa​​​, @criminaly-supernatural​​​, @tammythompson-singslikea-muppet, @belloangelus​​​, @snarky--starky​​​, @saintbootlegloras​​​, @wecallhimbrowneyess​​​, @empath-bunny​​​, @okkulta​​​, @katinthemoon,  @ravennight41​​​, @youcancallme-rae , @radhumandragonclam, @unfortunateidiotinadilemma, @past3l-w1ngs​​​  , @anonymous-pls-dont-click​​​ , @username23345​​​, @hulkswitch​​​, @theofficialzivadavid​​​, @lainphotography​​​, @fred-deeks-ben​​​, @normanijauregui​​​, @goinggoinggonzo​​, @mxxnmocha​​, @euphouriaszn2​​, @trikruismybitch​, 
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February 13th
"You sure you’re alright?” Wanda asked as she watched your rub your shoulder. 
“I’m good, just a little sore.” you said reassuringly. 
You had been called out on a mission with Steve, Wanda, and Natasha to check out a possible hit on a SHIELD office. You managed to catch the assault team before they made it into the building, but a fight broke out. When you were fighting one of the men, he pulled you down a short flight of stairs, you banged your shoulder pretty bad, but it seemed to be alright now. 
You were riding back to the tower now, sitting in the back seat with Wanda.
“You should get your shoulder checked out when we get back, just in case.” Steve said, looking at your through the drivers mirror. 
“Is that an order Captain?” you asked with sarcasm as you leaned forward, talking to Steve over the seat. 
You could see him smirk at your question as he peaked back at you “If it has to be, then yes.” 
You smiled in amusement as you sat back in your seat “Yes sir” you said, saluting, making Wanda chuckle and Natasha and Steve smirk at your response. 
Doing just as he said, you had your shoulder scanned in the medical wing once you returned. But finding no real damage you went back to work. Entering into the large main room, you staggered back as a man carrying a large box passed by you when you came through the doors. Looking around you saw a bunch of people walking around. It took you a moment before you remembered that they were the people hired to set up the Valentines party.
This room was going to be the main room for the party, tables set up for the dinner and a stage in the front for the entertainment. Seeing through the large doors to your left, you figured that would be where the dancing would take place. 
Looking around, you could tell the color scheme was going to be gold and red, classy, but a bit gaudy in some areas. You saw Tony walk through nearby doors, explaining something to one of the decorators, turning, he spotted you. Leaving the decorator with a last instruction he walked over to you. 
“So, what do you think so far?” he asked as he stood next to you, motioning to the room. 
“No chocolate fountain?” you asked with sarcasm. 
You saw his eyes light up as he snapped his finger “A chocolate fountain!” Turning to one of the nearby people, he got their attention “Any chance of getting a chocolate fountain?” 
You rolled your eyes “Tony, that’s too much!”
“No no, it’s a good idea” he said to you before looking back to the other person who began writing something down “And get some skewers, fruit and marshmallows, it can be like a giant fondue station.” 
“That doesn’t sound very sanitary” you said with a frown.
He hesitated for a moment “No, it’ll be fine, we’ll put up a sign, no double dipping” You shook your head with a laugh as he turned fully towards you “So, how’d your little mission go?”
“Fine, we stopped the assault, arrested all of the members, Nat and Clint will be questioning them.” 
Tony opened his mouth to speak but was interrupted as someone called him from across the room “Go ahead, I’ve got to get back to work anyway” you said as you parted ways. Leaving the room you felt anxious again thinking about the party and what would happen. Trying to shake away the anxiety, you got back to work. 
- - -
You managed to distract yourself by working the rest of the day, and now you were sitting at the kitchen bar in the public part of the tower. Public meaning it could be accessed by all of the Avengers. 
“Hey” Wanda greeted as she wandered in “What are you doing in here?” 
You smiled at her and lifted your hand in greeting “Just finished work, I’m waiting for the rest of the party planners and decorators to leave for the day, they are constantly using the elevators and stairs, filling them with people and stuff.” you chuckled. 
She sat down next to you “Yeah, I couldn’t even get to the elevator in the first place” she chuckled “How’s your shoulder?”
“It’s good, no pain anymore.” you responded “So, are you looking forward to Tony’s party?” you asked her. 
She shrugged “Not particularly. I’m not one for crowded parties.”
“Me neither, but Tony will never get over it if I don’t show up, you too probably.”
“Oh yes I know, he told me so himself” you both chuckled. 
"Tony and his parties.” you commented just as the doors opened. Clint, Steve and Natasha walking in. 
“Ah, there you two are. “ Clint said as they made there way over to you. Clint and Steve sat at the bar with you and Wanda as Nat moved behind the bar. 
You sat and talked with the others for a while, about today’s planned attack, about who they were hired by, and then about Tony’s party. You started to feel the now familiar anxiety rise in your chest. Making yourself yawn, you feigned drowsiness before rising “Alright, I need to get some sleep.” you said, knowing that, though you were tired, you might not be able to sleep anyways. 
“Goodnight” Wanda, Nat and Steve said as you began to leave.
“Hey” Clint said.
Turning back to him you rose your brow. “Did you get any flowers from your secret admirer today?” he asked with a smirk.
“Ooh, yeah I almost forgot about that” she smirked as she looked at you. Wanda and Steve turned to look at your as well. 
“Uhh, no, but I haven’t been back to my room since lunch, soo”
“Soo, maybe there will be something now?” Nat said with a smile. 
Saying nothing you just smiled, cocked your head and then spun around, leaving in silence. Hearing chuckling from the others behind you as you left. You had actually successfully been distracted to the point where you forgot about the flowers. 
Luckily all of the decorators and planners had been long gone, so you could make your way to your room easily. As you stopped at your floor, you braced yourself for what would be on the other side, feeling a sense of familiar excitement. 
As the doors slid open, your eyes were already trained on your door. And placed at the bottom, was a tall bouquet of pale yellow daffodils tied together with white silky ribbon, a note dangling from the side. 
Quickly making your way to your door, you unlocked it before picking up the bouquet and going inside. This was the last bouquet you would get before learning who was behind all of this tomorrow. Your heart seemed to be hammering in your chest as you stared at the note.
You were almost afraid to read it. You hesitated before setting it down and going to the bathroom. Getting ready for bed, you grabbed the flowers and put them into a vase, a new one you bought at the store. Sitting on your bed, you fiddled with the note in your hand. Slowly opening it, you psyched yourself up a bit before you began to read the note. 
~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ Daffodils
Daffodils mean “New Beginnings”. I chose these because tomorrow will be the start of a new beginning for the two of us. No matter what happens. I, of course have my own wishes of how tomorrow will go, and I am sure you do as well. Perhaps you have your own desires of who I am, and I hope that I do not disappoint you when you find out who I am.
I have so much more I want to write, but cannot seem to put it properly into words. I’m sure we are both nervous about tomorrow, but I do truly feel as though we are meant to be. And though I cannot see the future, I know tomorrow will be the start of something new, and I can only hope that it will be great. ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~
Reading over the note a few times you lied back on your bed as you stared up at the ceiling. You had stopped trying to figure out who it could be. Knowing that they were careful enough not to let anything seem obvious. And if you had been talking to them one on one, or when everyone would be talking about the flowers, they were careful enough not to say anything that would make them seem suspicious. 
For a moment, you debated not going to the party at all. And chickening out instead. But you only entertained the thought for a moment before you felt guilt for even thinking it. They did not deserve that. No matter how afraid you might be about what might happen tomorrow, they didn’t deserve to be stood up, especially not after everything they have said and done. But then again, what if they stand you up? What if they change their mind, and you never find out who they are?
You closed your eyes, your thoughts running rapid through every possibility of what could happen tomorrow. Eventually, without really realizing it, you had drifted off to sleep.
xx xx xx xx xx
Sooo, tomorrow is the day!
I will be releasing every ending throughout Valentines Day (10 in total); starting around 5am MST. Let me know if you want to be tagged in any specific endings.
The endings will be: Bucky, Steve, Tony, Bruce, Thor, Loki, Clint, Natasha, Vision and Wanda. 
361 notes · View notes
yongtxt · 5 years ago
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hundred [johnny]
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word count: 4.5k words
characters: boxer!johnny x doctor!reader
genre: fluff
warnings: blood/wound/stitches mentions, johnny hates hospitals but he likes the pretty doctor, [im not a doctor nor a boxer pls dont say that i have info wrong because I Know]
author’s note: i know this isnt long to some of u but to me it is and i havent written this much for so long im so proud of myself for finishing this:( it isnt that good but this is the first long fic ive written in a while and shhsdjk also i needed to get this out of my system ive thought about this au since that jcc came out where johnny and hyuck was doing muay thai plssss (i couldnt find a better gif tho) ok this is getting too long / feedback is appreciated tysm
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Johnny Suh hated hospitals with a burning passion.
It wasn't from a past trauma nor was he afraid of it, it wasn't that serious. He wasn't exactly sure what the cause of it really was. If he had to make a guess, it was probably from the accumulation of the little things, the insignificant factors people would usually dismiss but bothered him enough that it contributed to the big hatred he built for hospitals.
Maybe it was the distinct smell of hospitals, it reeked of death and old people. Maybe it was the atmosphere of the fluorescent-lit hallways, always gloomy and heavy. Maybe it was also the fact that the fees were so expensive and yet the food they provide tasted horrible, even the coffee was a hit or miss. The only upside he could think of was people get better in hospitals, but even that wasn't assured.
Despite how much Johnny despised hospitals, he always finds himself coming back. If he wanted to get better, he had no choice but to go. He would endure the gruesome process over and over again whether it be to treat his wounds or to stitch his cuts.
With his jaw littered with small bruises and his lips busted at the corner, he sat impatiently on the hospital bed as he waited for his doctor. He was fiddling with his fingers, knuckles bruised the same way his face was. He looked beaten up, he always did.
The clothes he wore contradicted the state he was in, they were fresh and laid back. He looked like a college student from the way he dressed. A delinquent more like, if one considered his cuts and bruises. Before heading to the hospital, he always makes it a point to shower and make himself appear presentable to the public. Although no one really bothers to take notice of his effort, only him.
The sliding door opened and Johnny's attention shot up from his phone, his gaze meeting with yours. Your head popped in, peaking through the small crack you made. Your eyes lit up in recognition as it always did whenever you see him.
"Youngho-ssi?" You spoke almost as if it was a question, voice barely above a whisper to make sure you were in the correct room, about to tend the correct patient.
Johnny didn't understand why you always did that, call out his name as if this was the first time you were seeing him. At that point, you've been already acquainted with him enough due to his numerous trips to the hospital. Either way, he nods every time.
You gave him a small smile, widening the door enough so you could enter. You wore a white lab coat, a name tag pinned to your chest and a stethoscope hung around your neck. You were small, although anyone compared to him was bound to be comparatively smaller – that wasn't the point, you looked young and that never fails to astound him every time you go through the door.
You had a clipboard in your hands, scanning through what he assumed to be his condition that a nurse had written earlier after a quick checkup and disinfection of his open wound. Your lips were formed on a tight line, eyebrows furrowed. He continued to stare at you with such amusement.
"You don't have to answer my question, Youngho-ssi, but why are you always here?" You finally broke the silence, startling him in the slightest. You never bothered to ask before, always just offering smiles and small talks while you did your work; maybe his sudden regularity of coming to the hospital recently made your curiosity peaked.
He couldn't blame you. Anybody would be curious why a 24-year-old man keeps coming back to the hospital with no clear explanation.
He cleared his suddenly dry throat, he never liked saying his job. He said, "I box for a living."
"Ah, that makes sense!" Your eyes visibly glimmered, absentmindedly jotting down notes on his medical records. "My coworkers and I thought you were in a gang or something."
"I don't think I would be allowed to be here if I was." He chuckled, making you giggle as well.
"Seo Youngho, 24, minor lip laceration in need of immediate suture." You read of his data from the clipboard, almost comically. It was medical terms he was unfortunately already too familiar with, to him, it basically meant that he had a busted lip that needs to be sewed shut.
"You can just call me Johnny. Youngho sounds too formal to me." He said nonchalantly. You nodded your head to his simple request; it probably was best if you got to know him better since he frequented the hospital so much.
"Alright, Johnny. We'll start the process now, okay?"
With keen eyes, he watched you slip on a pair of surgical gloves. You grabbed a tissue from the metal tray that sat beside him and began folding it into squares. He felt his heartbeat quicken, he hated getting stitches or any form of medical treatments for that matter, but as morbid as it was, he thought of it as punishment for his recklessness in the ring.
"Isn't boxing just, I don't know, senseless violence?" You asked, tone dripping with pure innocence and unadulterated interest as you gently dabbed away the remaining dried blood the nurse failed to clean earlier.
"It's a sport, it's how I bring money to the table." He pursed his lips, ignoring the twinge of pain that surged through his nerves. He visibly relaxed when you placed a hand onto his shoulder to reassure him.
Ever since the first time you got assigned to him, the first thing he took note of was the softness of your hands. You handled him as if he was fragile glass, despite how he easily towered over you. He felt pathetic as a 24-year-old but your gentle touches would greatly help put him at ease.
"I guess. I didn't mean to be rude." You were hesitant, Johnny could tell but he was glad you didn't push on any further. He couldn't handle explaining his occupation when you were about to pierce his skin. "Okay, Johnny, now that your lip is clean and the anesthesia had seeped in, we'll start. I think you know how it goes by now."
"Make it quick, please." He nodded, squinting his eyes shut at the mere contact of a surgical pen grazing over his gaped lips. You were relieved that his cut wasn't too big, you couldn't stomach the idea of putting him in too much pain for longer.
As you picked up the tweezers and string of nylon, you couldn't help but laugh at the six-foot boxer in front of you who was clearly petrified of getting stitches, "This will be done as soon as you know it. You won't really feel it because of the anesthesia, remember? Now count to a hundred backward for me."
Once the numb feeling of nylon dragged through his lips, he swore he saw white spots flicker in his vision. His eyes immediately watered and he tried his best not to squirm under your hold, beginning to count to a hundred backward like you had instructed him to. You admitted it to him the first time you stitched him that it was a trick that you learned from your pediatrician friend. Despite it being for children, it helped to get him distracted while you focused on your job.
Minutes felt like hours, Johnny had been fighting the urge to punch something, anything, to release tension and nerves. Swallowing the lump in his throat, he took a peak and tried to take his attention away from what was currently happening on his lip. His gaze landed on your pretty eyes, how it was narrowed in focus and how your lashes perfectly framed it.
This wasn't the first time he'd observe you up close, there had been many occasions in the past that you had been too close for comfort in order to tend his wounds. It had been too many that it was almost as if he was close to memorizing your features. You were not only beautiful but you were also a smart and capable doctor.
Eventually, you finished and started to rub ointment on his sore lip — the finishing line.
"Try not to eat anything spicy or hard. You know the drill." You grinned at his suddenly pale features, ripping off your gloves as his eyes adjusted to the bright lights of the room. "You're good to go. Be careful next time."
He let out a shaky breath, clearly still winded up from the procedure, "I'll try. Thanks again, doc."
-
The punching bag felt great against Johnny's fists. There wasn't a feeling in the world that could compare to the impact of leather slamming against his skin. He could last hours mindlessly pummeling the bag if his stamina just allowed him to.
Hyunsik, Johnny's manager and personal trainer, drew away from the punching bag he held in between his arms. He let out a breath and held out a hand to motion that Johnny has done enough.
Johnny was hurting, Hyunsik could see that much. The bandages he had wrapped for the boxer's fingers were turning into a shade of red that they were all too familiar with.
Hyunsik clicked his tongue, "You should've used your gloves."
"How can I grow stronger if I keep relying on them?" Johnny rolled his eyes. His muscles needed a boost and this seemed to be the only logical way to strengthen them — a little blood never hurt anybody.
"Someday you're gonna fracture your hand and you'll be forced out of the ring. Remember that." Hyunsik huffed, his voice stern. "Take them off, I'll clean the blood off."
Johnny reluctantly did as told, unfurling the bandages wrapped around his fingers. The pain was excruciating when the fabric grazed along his tender skin, he winced at the unsightly view of his reopened wounds.
Hyunsik led him back outside of the ring to the benches where the first aid kit was. He made the boxer sit down so he could start cleaning off his wounds. It looked horrific, more so than it usually did and he had no choice but to break the news to Johnny.
"It looks really bad. You need to go get that checked in the hospital and have it sewed back." Hyunsik said, taking a wet towel and carefully dabbing it across Johnny's bloodied knuckles.
He didn't want to go to the hospital. Going to the hospital to have his wounds treated meant that Johnny would be medically required to take days off work to let his hand heal. Johnny frowned, "Don't you have an ointment or something that could help? I can't afford to lose a day of practice."
"Don't you think I know that?" Hyunsik rolled his eyes. "As your manager, I want you to be in top shape for your match next week, even if it means sacrificing a day or two for you to heal."
Johnny could only nod. He sat through Hyunsik's lecture on the changes he should make to his dietary plan and the exercises he should do during his temporary break. It infuriated him that he couldn't do anything about it but nod along.
The incoming match that was set next week would make or break his career as an underground boxer. He didn't have the option of missing it because of some measly reopened wounds. If he had to rest to get better, he had no choice but to suck it up. This was his fault anyway for pushing himself too much.
Johnny showered in the locker rooms and changed into nicer clothes that didn't reek of blood and sweat. His hands were stinging but he shook it off.
He ignored the concerned looks other boxers were giving him and begrudgingly made his way to the hospital to get himself checked in. You wouldn't be happy to see him all bloodied again, he thought.
-
Much to Johnny's surprise, it wasn't you who was assigned to him. It was a much older doctor with graying hair and a nose stuck too far up in the air. She was rude and condescending, her lack of politeness to her patients was quite appalling. If Johnny wasn't in such a bad mood, he might've complained already.
God, this day couldn't get any worse.
With a meek voice, Johnny asked where you were and at the mention of your name, his doctor gave him a narrowed look. She sneered, "She's handling much more important cases. Does she know you?"
"I think so." Johnny gulped, unsure of the answer himself.
The doctor's grip was tight and she was hasty. It was as if she was trying to speed through the process to just get it over with. Johnny wanted to cry because he was starting to get traumatized by this doctor's procedure, he didn't want to hate the hospital more than he already did.
He internally screamed for your name as he watched the doctor pull on the gloves. The sliding door harshly whipped open and there you were in all your glory, like an angel sent from above to save him from the devil incarnate who was about to pierce his skin.
You were panting and the sheen on your forehead made it obvious that you ran your way to his room. Johnny's heart leaped with glee.
"Unnie, I'll handle him." You said, unable to catch your breath as you made your way inside. "I think the ER needs you more than me."
The doctor seemed hesitant at first but you tried to convince her otherwise. She eventually agreed and left you with Johnny who had a cheesy smile on his face the entire time since you've arrived.
"So Johnny, what happened this time?" You asked, picking up the clipboard that sat next to him on the bed.
"I overdid the punching during training and it reopened some old wounds on my knuckles. It hurts like a bitch."
You pulled a face, "That's a bit intense."
He chuckled, "It's normal."
"Can I please see it?" You opened your palm so he could place his hand on yours. You observed his cuts and the scabs that were beginning to form around it, it was too deep to let it heal on its own so you made the verdict that he needed to get it sewed back together ⁠— as unfortunate as it was since he was a boxer and he needed his hands to box.
You tugged on a new pair of gloves and began the painful procedure, Johnny started counting down even without you instructing him to. You quickly got to work and stitched back his wounds with your lip in between your teeth
Johnny felt squeamish, he could never get used to the feeling of stitches. His eyes were glued shut and he mumbled numbers like it was mantra.
Once you were done, you smiled fondly at your work. You managed to get by with fewer stitches and you felt pride swell up in your chest. Johnny noticed and, as lightheaded as he was, couldn't help but smile as well.
"You're pretty good."
"At stitching?"
Johnny nodded with his cheeks flushed, he made a mental reminder to smack himself in the head later for such a crude comment. You probably thought he was an idiot now.
"I sure hope so." You chuckled, making him blush even deeper if that was even possible. "It's part of my job."
Johnny shook his head in embarrassment, his dark hair bouncing from how vigorously he did it. He mumbled, "That sounded really lame and not smooth, I'm sorry. Please forget I opened my mouth."
You could only chuckle as you apply the ointment around his knuckles. He wanted the ground to open up and just swallow him whole.
"Please let this heal completely, Johnny. Don't apply any strain on your injuries for a couple of days and refrain yourself from carrying anything heavy so that the stitches won't rip." You said, carefully placing down his hand back on his knee. You were gentle as ever, Johnny swooned. "Absolutely no punching for a while."
"I have an important match at the end of next week. Is there any way to speed up the healing process?" Johnny asked, his eyes were almost pleading at you and you blinked at him in surprise.
"Apart from what I just said, there's really nothing else you could do." You pursed your lips, watching his expression visibly deflate. "If you want to have even a sliver of a chance at winning your match, I suggest you do as I say. Your stitches won't take too long to heal, I promise."
If Hyunsik was there with him, he would've probably already scolded him but the point would be the same. He had always prioritized Johnny's health above winning.
"Okay, doc. I'll do my best." Johnny said, defeated.
"You know, I always see the aftermath of your matches and your training. I want to see you in the ring next time when you're not bloody and beaten up yet." You smiled at him and you swore that all the color that was previously drained from Johnny's face came rushing back. "If it's okay."
"Are you serious?" Johnny asked, almost dumbfounded. Did the pretty doctor he'd been crushing on for months really just asked if she could watch his match?
You nodded with the same hue of red now tainting your cheeks.
"O-Of course! It's on Saturday next week! Please come and cheer me on!" Like a little kid, he excitedly rambled on about the details about the upcoming match and you nodded with the same enthusiast as you wrapped bandages around his hands.
You weren't from his world so everything he said sounded foreign to you. The terms he said, the infamy of his opponents, the prominence of it all — you were eager to learn it if it meant seeing him this happy.
You've always known that he hated hospitals. It was clear from the way he acted during your first meeting. He was stiff and tense, the body language he exuded just screamed that he wanted nothing more than to get the hell out of there. As he visited the hospital more and more, you noticed the hatred never faltered. He only became better at hiding it from you.
To see him so relaxed and carefree within the four walls he hated with all his being, it was a breath of fresh air and the feeling you had in your chest grew stronger.
"You're good to go. I promise to see you in your match." You were jotting some last-minute details on the clipboard and you missed the way Johnny kept grinning like an idiot. "As much as I love seeing you here, I hate that you keep getting yourself injured. Keep out of trouble for me, Johnny."
You left the room without letting Johnny say another word.
Fuck, Johnny realized he hadn't asked for your number.
-
Johnny's match started in ten minutes. His heart was pounding in his ears, he almost couldn't hear what Hyunsik was shouting to him.
The underground stadium was filled to the brim with people, he felt more nervous than he did during his first boxing match. A lot was at stake for this win, he needed the belt. He was desperate for it.
"Johnny, are you listening to me?" Hyunsik raised his voice, aggressively slapping Johnny's cheeks together in his hands so he could focus on him. The boxer's mind was fleeting and it was his job to pull him back to reality now.
He hadn't seen you since last week and as much as he wanted to go back to the hospital to see you, he refused to badly hurt himself in the days that led up to the match. Johnny scanned the crowd for your face but he couldn't see it. You weren't there.
At the lack of your turnout, he failed to mask his disappointment. Hyunsik let out an aggravated groan and pulled the boxer on his feet to berate him further.
"Johnny, please for the love of all things holy, look me in the eye."
"I'm sorry. I'm okay now. I'm listening."
"Good because your match is starting soon and I need you to win this. All your hardships and sacrifices boils down to this match, you hear me?" Hyunsik bellowed, trying his best to keep his voice louder than the cries and chants of the audience. "Show them what Johnny Suh is capable of!"
Johnny nodded fervently, forcing himself into a state of serenity of peacefulness. He let out heavy breaths to even out his breathing as his team surrounded him, prepping him for what was about to come.
Hyunsik raised his hand at Johnny. He had five minutes left until his match started and he wasn't calming down.
"Can I please have some water?" Johnny asked and his medic stumbled on his feet to fetch him a bottle from the nearby cooler. He couldn't help but let out a shaky chuckle, his team seemed tenser than he was.
He downed the bottle as soon as it reached his hand. His hand was shaky. Goddammit, why was he so nervous?
At the corner of his eye, he saw Hyunsik making his way over to the barricade that separated his corner to the rest of the stadium. He arched his neck in a way that would let him take a peek what was so important that Hyunsik had to leave his side when the match was starting in a few minutes.
It seemed like Hyunsik was trying to stop a girl who was forcing her way in through the barricade. His stomach lurched at the sight of her familiar face.
As if he was acting purely on instinct, Johnny shot up from his seat and ran towards you. Hyunsik held up his arm to stop him from going any closer to you. You could've been a deranged fan, for all Hyunsik knows.
"Johnny-"
"I know her."
Hyunsik was startled at his response and started to profusely apologize to you. You looked nothing but smug and Johnny let out a breathy laugh that helped unravel the knots in his stomach. The boxer quietly motioned for him to take his leave and Hyunsik hesitantly did as told only after tapping his wrist as a sign that time was ticking.
You bowed at him apologetically, "I'm so sorry I'm late! There was this damn patient-"
"It's okay. You're here now." He cut you off, a cheesy smile on his face. You easily reciprocated it back.
"I just came down here to wish you good luck." You said with the usual confidence in your tone gone and now replaced with a sudden timidness and bashfulness. "Not like you need it or anything."
"Where are you sitting?" Johnny asked, noticing that you were struggling to keep your attention on his eyes. He peered down and realized that he didn't have a shirt on, he chuckled.
You pointed near the walls of the stadium and he strained his vision to see so far away. He pursed his lips and let out a noise of discontent. You said that it was the only seats available because you were so late.
"Why don't you sit here with them? They wouldn't mind." Johnny said, jutting his thumb over to his team who was furtively watching his interaction.
"Oh no, it's okay."
"I insist. I want you to see me win up close."
You blushed a deep shade of scarlet and Johnny grinned at his successful attempt at a flirt. Was it even a flirt or was it an ego stroke? Either way, it didn't matter because you were smiling at him. You were easing his nerves and you didn't even know.
"I got out of my shift early so I wouldn't be in the hospital later to stitch you up." You teased, softly prodding his shoulder blade.
Johnny playfully puffed out his chest, "I don't plan on getting too injured today, I wanna look cool in front of you."
"Whatever you say, Johnny."
"But I'm nervous. I'm actually really nervous today." Johnny mumbled as if he didn't want anyone else in on your conversation, gone all traces of his cockiness as his heart thudded erratically against his chest when he heard Hyunsik's call of the last minute until he has to go inside the ring.
You gingerly reached for his taped hands and gave it a gentle squeeze, "Just count back from a hundred like I always tell you to. You'll do fine."
"Wait for me after the match, okay?" And so you did.
Counting down the numbers, Johnny clambered inside the ring and the bell rang to signal the start of the match. Being in the medical field meant that you were against all forms of violence so you couldn't really watch the entirety of the match without feeling sick to your stomach. Johnny didn't care, he was just happy that you kept your promise and was cheering him on.
It was hectic and everything was happening all at once. It was loud and everybody was screaming. This wasn't your world, it was Johnny's and your heart fluttered at the thought that he was willing to let you in it.
Eventually, the match ended in Johnny's favor and the next thing you knew, you were being hoisted up in the air. You had the biggest smile on your face, similar to Johnny's who now had a shiny belt slung over his shoulder. All his hard work and all his trips to the hospital paid off.
"Congrats on your win!" You exclaimed, placing your palms on his chest to steady yourself.
"I wanted you to see me get the belt." He admittedly sheepishly, reaching out to hold your wrists in his bruised hands.
"Aren't you hurt in any way? We can drop by the hospital if you want." You asked, checking to see if he had any major injuries but true to his word, Johnny was inflicted little to no injuries during the match, exclude the few bruises on his jaw and a busted lip
"Actually, I'd rather we get some coffee instead." Johnny said, the small smile on his lips making you chuckle.
"I'm sorry, I don't date my patients." You smirked at Johnny's crestfallen expression, softly shoving his side to make it known that you were only joking.
Johnny pulled a face, releasing a breath he didn't realize he was holding once he realized your joke. He played along, "I think you can make me an exception, I don't usually invite people to my matches."
"So this is about getting even, huh?" You were teasing him and now your faces were merely inches apart but before Johnny could even think of leaning in, you spun around and grabbed his hand once more. "C'mon then, my treat!"
Johnny let out a laugh. A boxer and a doctor, who would've thought?
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buckyskorpion · 5 years ago
Text
11 hours - part five
Pairing: Biker!Bucky x Reader
Summary: bucky is the mystery you can’t wait to solve. if you can get out of his bed long enough, that is. a biker au.
Warnings: gang-typical violence, sex scenes, alcohol mentions, probably more to come so stay tuned
A/N: alright things escalated VERY QUICKLY but shit had to go down sometime. i hope you enjoy! and sorry for the delay, i really been goin thru it recently. this part is 7k to make up for it lmao i wont be taking tags for this so please dont ask.
title taken from 11 hours by wet | playlist | my ko-fi
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It’s a big day. You had held Bucky’s hand as you stood in the doorway to his apartment, playing with his rings so you didn’t have to meet his eyes. You were nervous, not because you didn’t trust Bucky but because with every secret spilled you felt like a layer of your skin was being peeled away. But you’d held his hand and told him to pick you up tonight from your office. You handed him your business card, a physical embodiment of trust you hadn’t given to anyone else. It wasn’t your apartment address, sure, but it was something and Bucky held the card with the biggest, boyish grin on his face that melted your heart.
The real reason you’re so nervous is because if whoever followed you from Bucky’s apartment is following Bucky, then they’ll follow him right to your office door. You’d had a long talk to yourself in the bathroom mirror the other night, however, and decided you weren’t going to let a hypothetical stalker ruin yet another relationship for you. Not that stalkers are common in your life, but using any excuse to distance yourself and cut people out is most definitely your regular MO. Not this time.
That being said, stalkers aren’t common in your life so you are, understandably, fixated by it. You are sure it has something to do with Bucky because you don’t believe in coincidences and the guy literally followed you from Bucky’s apartment. The big question is, was the stalker after Bucky or were they after you? Since you have next to nothing to go on, you aren’t exactly on your way to answering that one yet. But you’ll get there, eventually, and you’ve got some ideas.
In the meantime, you wait for Bucky and attempt to tidy your organised mess. He’s meant to show up at seven on his bike, but seven is going on eight and he’s yet to show. You try not to picture the worst or convince yourself you’re being stood up, even though that’s what it feels like. The one time you give out personal details and he doesn’t show. That would be your luck. You kick a filing drawer closed a bit too harshly, the metal clanging loud in your deafeningly silent office. Whatever. It’s not like anyone is left in the building to judge you because Bucky is over an hour late and every other office in the place is long empty.
You water your desperately dry indoor plants, even the one on top of your bookshelf - a testament to how hard you’re trying to distract yourself from the imminent heartbreak. You stand on tiptoes on your swivel chair to reach the crispy fern, something your dad would yell at you for if he could see you, but he can’t so you just pray the wheels don’t slip out from under you. It’s a very precarious precision for you to be in when someone bangs your office door open and stumbles inside, that’s for sure. You nearly break your entire body falling from the chair, but catch yourself on the bookcase before any real damage can be done.
The invader slams the door shut behind them, making you flinch once again as you spin around to face your would-be attacker. Only it's not someone breaking and entering - it’s Bucky, panting heavily and bleeding from his temple while he turns slowly on his heel and assesses every corner of your tiny office for threats.
“Bucky?” you call out, hesitant to approach and startle him incase it’s not your office that he’s seeing. His dog tags hang out the neck of his t-shirt when they’re usually always carefully tucked under the fabric, and you notice now he’s not just bleeding from his head but somewhere under that shirt as well. He looks over at your voice and it takes a second for him to focus properly on you, shoulders visibly slumping, closing the space in three quick strides.
“I’m so sorry,” he says, pulling you bodily into a crushing hug. You wrap your arms around his waist, carefully holding him in case he’s got even more injuries you can’t see, but he squeezes you so tight you find it hard to breathe. He has one arm around your shoulders, that hand tangled in your hair and he presses your head into his shoulder. You feel him nose into the hair at the crown of your head, breathe in deep, let it out in shudders.
“You’re hurt,” you say into his t-shirt, and he shakes his head while still pressing his face into your scalp.
“M’fine, s’just blood,” he mumbles, barely coherent, so you let it go for the moment. You let him hold you and you hug him back, splaying your palms flat against his back and pressing him impossibly closer to you.
Eventually, you peel yourself from him in order to give him a once over. He smiles down at you like he’s amused, but you hardly find the situation funny when Bucky’s blood is literally all over you, now. You take his hand and make him sit on your swivel chair, spinning uselessly in the middle of the room from where it slid out from under you and rolled away. There’s a first aid kit in a box near the window, because you can never be too careful, and you take to soaking gauze in alcohol solution instead of speaking. You don’t trust what would come out of your mouth right now, anyway.
Luckily, Bucky fills the silence for you. He bites his lip as he looks over at you, taking in the tense set of your shoulders and jerky movements as you dig around for bandages. Then he says, “I got caught up, I really am sorry.”
You nod, but you still don’t speak. Instead you grab your supplies and move over to Bucky, avoiding his eyes as you assess the one wound you can see. Bucky has a thin cut from the corner of his eye to his hairline, shallow but bleeding profusely due to the thin skin there. You suck in a deep breath and start dabbing the soaked gauze on the wound, outside to inside, watching as the white turns coppery red with every swipe. Your stomach twists at the sight, and to your horror, you find you could almost cry.
“Doll,” Bucky says, eyebrows creasing up as if he’s just as upset as you feel. He hooks one big hand around your thigh, tugging until you let him manhandle you onto his lap. “I mean it, I didn’t mean to keep you waiting.”
“I don’t care that you were late,” you snap, clenching your jaw until you can get your flash of frustration under control. You drop your hand from his face, curling up further onto Bucky’s lap despite yourself as his arms come round to hug you to his chest. His bloodstained, most likely injured chest. You take a deep breath and ask, “What happened?”
“You wanna know?” Bucky asks. When you finally meet his eyes he doesn’t seem to be shutting down, shutting you out like you expect when it comes to talking about Bucky’s biker lifestyle. He just looks sad, and you let yourself soften just a bit to run your fingers down his jaw.
Bucky’s eyes flutter closed when you touch him, and you say, “I already told you - I just wanna know. No secrets.”
“No secrets,” Bucky affirms, smiling as he opens his eyes again. The corners are tight, though, as he starts to explain. “One of the things we do - the gang, y’know - is run protection details. Me and Sam were on it, supposed to be a simple job, but we got shitty intel and ended up having to fight our way out of a crappy spot. We got out, finished the job, but it definitely didn’t go to plan. ”
“Protection for what?” you ask. This is the most open Bucky has ever been when talking about his gang, so you’re not going to pass up this opportunity for a bit more information.
“For who,” Bucky corrects, smiling at you like he knows what you’re doing. He starts stroking up and down your shoulder blades as he talks, soothing the both of you it seems. “Rich businessmen, low-level politicians, mob affiliates - anyone who’s got a target on their back and need to get from point A to point B. They’re easy jobs for us ex-army guys and they pay well.”
“Better pay than fixing cars, I bet,” you say. Your attempt at levity works and Bucky grins. The way it makes his face turn young and open is so at odds with the trickle of blood down his cheek.
“Gotta be able to pay for your drinks somehow,” he says, and you slap his shoulder. He mock-winces and says, “Hey! I’m bleeding, ya gotta be nice to me.”
“Don’t gotta do shit,” you mumble, reminding you to press the gauze you’re still holding back on the wound on his temple to stem some of the bleeding. He hisses for real this time, the sting of the alcohol probably burning a bit, especially so close to his eye. You press a kiss to his cheek and in apology and Bucky hums, tightening his grip around your body to hold you close again.
“M’sorry I ruined our night,” he says, “I wish I could promise it won’t happen again, but I can’t.”
“Don’t be sorry,” you say, and he meets your eyes, slightly confused. You smile and say, “Not when you’re hurt. I know what I signed up for, I just want you to be ok.”
“What if, one day, I’m not ok?” Bucky asks, serious now, and you take your time before you answer him. His cut is clean of dried blood, and it’s stopped oozing any more. You doubt it’ll get infected so you should bandage it up but you can’t make yourself move from Bucky’s lap. Not just yet.
“I’ll fix you up,” you say. “That’s what we’re doing, right? Taking care of each other.”
Bucky blinks, once, as if allowing your words to download in his brain like a data file. Then he kisses you. He slides a hand up to cradle your head and presses soft, slow kisses to your lips like he’s got all the time in the world. He came storming in like a hurricane but now you’re in the eye, calm and quiet settling over you both as you cup his jaw and kiss into him all the tenderness you're too afraid to say. You mend his bleeding head and adrenaline-addled heart while he soothes your fear. Taking care of each other, and it feels nice to let someone else do that for once.
You know what Bucky is leaving out. The I hurt people admission, the fact he might have killed someone tonight, that the blood on his shirt isn’t just his. You really thought you’d care more - about the not knowing, about the truth of it, about everything. But he’s breathing and alive underneath you, trailing kisses and stubble burn from your mouth to your cheek to your temple, and all of those superfluous details become white noise. You’re surprised to find the simple fact that Bucky is alright is enough to supersede all the gaps you would usually itch to fill.
Bucky spins you both, tucking your legs up closer so you don’t overbalance as he looks around your office in a dizzying circle. A spike of nerves makes you feel sick for a second but Bucky smiles as he looks around, like he’s pleased with this part of your life he’s been able to see, and it makes you feel less afraid.
“This is where the magic happens, huh?” he asks, and you laugh at his teasing. “It’s very normal.”
“What did you expect? Like ‘Sherlock Holmes’ or something?” you ask. Bucky shrugs, mouth twitching like he’s trying not to laugh.
“Maybe,” he says, then squints at you like he’s considering something. “So, no violin?”
“No violin, and no Mrs Hudson. I make my own tea,” you say, grinning up at Bucky even though he’s being stupid.
“Yeah, right,” Bucky snorts, “Pour your own wine, you mean.”
“Are you calling me a drunk?” you gasp, reeling back from Bucky and almost sending yourself off his lap and onto the floor. Bucky grips you tighter, laughing at the offence written all over your face, and then extracts an arm to point meaningfully at the half empty bottle of red by the side of your desk.
“The evidence speaks for itself,” he says. You fold your arms in a huff, if only to have him kiss the top of your head in a silent apology.
“You stick to the gang stuff, I’ll stick to the investigating,” you huff, and Bucky kisses you again until you wipe the frown from your face.
“Alright, smart girl,” he says. He stands, holding you up like it’s nothing and you can’t deny how hot that is, even if he is being condescending to you right now. He sets you down on your feet and smooths out your jacket, the warmth of his hands seeping through the leather as they pass over your shoulders and down your arms. He links his fingers into one of your hands, smiling down at you, and says, “Can we rain check dinner? I think I need a shower.”
Bucky stands unnaturally close to you as you lock up your office and head out, scanning the street while you lock the back door and set the alarm system for the building. He takes your hand wordlessly and leads you to his bike, parked haphazardly on the sidewalk and just begging for a ticket. He hands you a helmet but is looking over your shoulder, not at you, and both of those things are worrying - you’ve never known Bucky to wear a helmet, let alone offer you one. You didn’t know he owned one. You feel fidgety, your skin crawling like you’re being watched, and Bucky must feel it too because he’s a bit rough in manhandling you onto the bike as quickly as possible.
“Bucky,” you say, and he twists around to give you a clinical once over - much like you’d done to him when he’d come to you bloody and breathless. You feel sick to your stomach, guilt and fear twisting in your gut, as you ask, “Do you think someone followed you here?”
Bucky’s face is impassive, but you’d like to think you know him well enough to read the tick by the corner of his eyes as a silent, muttered, shit. He licks his lips and says, “I can’t know the answer to that for sure.”
“But there’s a chance,” you say, and your heart is hammering so loud you barely hear your own voice. If someone finds your office then they find you, and the carefully constructed bubble of anonymity you’ve created is shattered in the space of a second. But you knew that, that’s what Bucky asked you on his couch - will you stay? Knowing Bucky is the antithesis of your comfort zone, will you stay anyway?
“Nothing is going to happen to you,” Bucky says definitively. You scan his eyes for trace of a lie but there is none. Bucky’s jaw is set, and he reaches up to grip your chin and hold your gaze on his, making sure you hear him. “Just like you said - we take care of each other. I’ll always take care of you.”
You let out a shaky breath, one you hadn’t known you’d been holding, and Bucky kisses the trill of fear away. You feel like you’ve dived off a cliff face, Bucky holding your hand all the way down the precipice of trust you’d promised yourself you’d never cross. But Bucky promises he’ll take care of you and god, it’s stupid but you want him to. You want his to be the arms you land in at the end of this free-fall. Even if, given who Bucky is, that’s the most dangerous place to be.
“Speaking of no secrets,” you say, more of mumble into his mouth than anything. Bucky pulls away, adorably puppy-like look of confusion on his face, and your stomach twists with guilt. “Remember the night of the party? At Sam’s bar?”
Bucky nods. He’s twisted uncomfortably on the seat of his bike and the helmet you’ve yet to put on is digging in o your stomach where you’re holding it. This isn’t the best place to be having this conversation but Bucky’s promise has made you brave, and if you don’t go against your own word now you never will. Not once have you ever spilled details of a case before you’d cracked it. This isn’t a case, you have to remind yourself. This is your life.
“That morning, when I left,” you say, omitting the fact it’s the first time you ever used his front door and will most certainly be the last, “someone followed me from your building. I shook them off, but they were waiting for me to leave and I don’t know if they were casing your apartment or if they were there for me, or what. I’m sorry, I should’ve told you, I just-“
“You just what?” Bucky doesn’t sound angry. Worse, he sounds cold. Shut down, clinical, and the way his face has pinched off makes your heart break.
“I didn’t know if I could trust you,” you say, looking down at your lap to avoid the way he’s looking at you like a stranger. Saying it out loud makes it sound so much worse, but it’s the truth and Bucky deserves that at least. “To be honest, I’m still not sure. But I want to. If I’m going to trust anyone, I want it to be you.”
It’s several moments before you’re brave enough to meet Bucky’s eyes again. He is coming back to you slowly, the shutters pulling up from his eyes as confusion seeps out. He scans your face and says, “Usually I would tell you that’s a really stupid idea, but I think you already know that.”
“Stupid ideas are kind of my thing,” you say, and that makes Bucky smile. Relief is bone deep, hits so hard you could slump from the bike in a pile of goo. He’s not mad. In fact, he leans forward in what must be a truly uncomfortable twist to press his forehead against yours and closes his eyes, breathes in deep. You follow suit, so ridiculously relieved you still get to do this while simultaneously trying to control the adrenaline rush from handing over what feels like you’re entire life to someone else.
All your life it feels like it’s always been you versus the world. Your dad raised you that way, to rely on no one but yourself so you can never be let down, not even him. It feels wrong on a cellular level to trust Bucky like you are so blindly doing. Every instinct screams at you to run, to figure this out on your own, that Bucky would normally be one of your main suspects in a regular case. But here you are, showing Bucky all your cards, hoping against hope that you won’t live to regret it.
“No more secrets,” Bucky says, and you nod. You feel his eyelashes tangle with yours as you move, pressed so close like this, and you open your eyes to stare at the veiny lids covering his. “Next time someone follows you, you tell me.”
“Yes sir,” you say, grinning at the warning pinch he gives to your hip.
“Let’s go to the shop,” Bucky says, pulling away from you and turning back to gun his bike to life. “The guys can help us figure this stalker shit out.”
“The guys?” you ask, and your chest does something painfully restrictive at the thought of letting more people in. “As in, everyone? Like, your gang?”
Bucky laughs, like the way you say ‘gang’ is so goddamn amusing, and throws you one last look over his shoulder. You tug the helmet on as he revs the bike, suddenly regretting every other time you’ve gotten on this thing without one, as Bucky says, “Yeah, doll, my gang. That’s kinda the whole point - we help each other out.”
You hadn’t really thought of it like that before. Truthfully, your mind had been filled with shady drug deals and bloody fights, turf wars and tattoos and angry men on bikes. Bucky’s friends and the nights you’ve spent with them seem like a different world, the joy and love entirely removed from the illegal life Bucky leads outside of your reach, but you have to remind yourself - they’re one and the same. Your Bucky cannot be removed from the biker you’ve been kept seperate from.
Clinging to Bucky’s waist, you say, “Sounds very after school special for a gang, tough guy.”
You can practically see Bucky grinning just by looking at the back of his head as takes off, the streets of Brooklyn peeling away as heads for White Wolf Mechanics. Your anxiety and fear sheds off as well, floating away in strips down the tarmac like an outer layer of skin. You feel vulnerable, all new and exposed as you hold Bucky close so you don’t fall. That’s what makes it feel bearable - Bucky’s back against your cheek, the hand he places over yours against his stomach when you pull up at a red light. His promise, echoing under the rumble of the bike beneath you. I’ll always take care of you.
~~~
The shop looks closed from the outside, but you can hear a low bass-line from the street and people laughing somewhere inside. Bucky brings you round the back, the roller doors out front closed this time, and into the back rooms you’d yet to see since that first visit a few weeks ago. To your left you see what must be Bucky’s office, but the room he tugs you to looks more like a bachelor pad living room than a mechanics break room.
Sam and Steve lay sprawled on leather couches, beers open on the coffee table made of old crates stacked together. The Killers pumps through a very, very nice sound system which Natasha is quietly singing along to where she lays on top of the pool table, legs kicking off the edge to the beat. Her beer rests on her stomach, rising and falling with every breath, and she doesn’t even raise her head as she waves at the two of you entering. Sam lifts the icepack from his eye to look at you, grinning wide, and kicks Steve in the shin to get his attention.
“Barnes is back,” he says, rolling his eyes as Steve blearily blinks awake from what was clearly an unplanned nap. Steve focuses on you and Bucky, eyebrows drawn down in confusion, and Sam adds, “and he’s brought his girl.”
“Shouldn’t you be at dinner or something?” Steve asks, then seems to remember himself and smiles all big and perfect at you. “It’s great to see you again, by the way.”
“Quit brown-nosing, it’s embarrassing,” Sam says, and throws his icepack at Steve’s head. He swats it away, squawking at the wetness it leaves behind on his hand and cheek, which makes Sam grin.
“I need a beer for this,” Bucky mutters so only you can hear, which makes you smile. You lead the way to the minibar in the corner, right by the bookshelf full of video games and the cardboard cut-out of Guy Fieri (you don’t want to ask). Bucky follows, grabbing your hand and tugging you back into his chest as you walk - even without the watchful eyes of the other gang affiliates which usually follow you at his parties, Bucky seems hell bent on making sure everyone knows who you’re here with. Even his closest friends.
You can’t say you entirely mind.
“So, to what do we owe the pleasure?” Natasha asks. She’s sat up now, twisting on the pool table to face you both as Bucky grabs you some beers. Sam and Steve still continue to argue about nonsense on the couches and are ignored by the three of you for the moment. However, they stop bickering as soon as Bucky speaks again.
“Someone’s been watching my building,” he says. The silence is thick, and you feel almost guilty for ruining their fun night with your stalker woes. Bucky hands you a beer and looks at you pointedly, eyebrows raised. You take a sip before you follow his not-so-subtle direction to start talking.
“I was followed home the morning after Sam’s party at the bar,” you say. You have the full attention of Bucky’s closest friends, and you can’t help but feel a little intimidated. You take a deep breath and decide to look at the situation like you were debriefing a client on a case - remove yourself from the equation. “There was a man smoking against the building next to Bucky’s. He followed me about four blocks before I lost him. He was over six foot, caucasian, brown hair and stubble.”
“Sounds like every white guy,” Sam says. “You could be describing Bucky, for all we know.”
“Yes,” you say, frowning. “If I was putting a tail on someone, I would make them very nondescript. Makes sense, right?”
“And you’re sure he was following you?” Natasha asks. You glance at her, but she doesn’t look like she’s condescending you or anything. Surprisingly, she looks like she believes you far more than the other two men in the room. Maybe your trial by fire proved to her you know what you’re talking about, so you nod.
“Definitely. Either he knew I was there and was waiting for me to leave, or he was watching Bucky’s apartment and would have followed anyone who came out of it. Without more information I can’t be sure if he was there for me or Bucky.”
“You’ve never seem him before?” Steve asks. You shake your head, and he says, “Could you describe him a bit more detailed? I might be able to draw him.”
“Sure,” you shrug. “Or, we can just wait until he shows up at Bucky’s again and follow him.”
Bucky does not like that idea at all. He practically growls, grabbing your elbow and turning you to face him as he glares at you. Roughly, he says, “Are you fucking insane?”
“What?” Mildly annoyed, you tug your arm from Bucky’s grip and say, “If this was a case, that’s what I would do.”
“This isn’t a case. This guy is going to be a hell of a lot more dangerous than some rich businessman cheating on his wife,” Bucky says, voice raised to an almost shout in one of the quickest escalations you’ve ever seen.
A switch flips in your brain, and you see red.
“Thank you for the condescending analysis, Bucky,” you snap. You ignore Sam’s muttered ‘oh shit!’ for your own health and sanity. “But you have no idea the kind of people I’ve dealt with in my life. I can manage a fairly mediocre stalker.”
“A fairly mediocre stalker who works for someone who won’t hesitate to use your hamstrings as handcuffs,” Bucky hisses. He steps towards you, chest brushing yours as he breaths deep and ragged, and oh- there’s the Bucky you’d been missing. The guy who’s still wearing clothes stained with blood, most of it not his, angry in an incandescent kind of way which reminds you he could hurt you in many more ways than just a broken heart. He leans down to say into your face, “This isn’t something you fuck around with, alright? There’s a reason why I’ve kept this world from you.”
“I thought we said no secrets?” you say, raising your eyebrows. You will yourself to hold your ground, even if you are shaking like a leaf and your words come out soft in the face of his anger. Like you’d poked a pin in his chest, Bucky deflates. He backs off of you, face crumbling from anger to guilt as quickly as he built himself up there.
“I won’t let you get hurt because of me,” he says, shaking his head. The switch in your brain flips back, all indignation and pride fading away. He’s still trying to take care of you, just like he promised. Already it’s abundantly clear you’re not going to make that easy for him, and you wonder how long it will take until he gets sick of trying.
“This isn’t going to work if you don’t trust me,” you say, gesturing between you. “I let you into my world, now it’s your turn. I know it’s dangerous - I could have left, remember? But I’m here. So let me be here.”
“If someone touches you-“
“I’ll get over it,” you say. Bucky stares at you like you’re crazy, and maybe you are, but it’s true. “You said you were going to take care of me - how’re you gonna do that from all the way over there?”
You don’t mean the other side of the room, the valley of the pool table and the metaphorical arms-length which which he’s keeping between you. There’s only so much Bucky can hide from you before you either dive right in or walk away. This is the turning point.
“Fine,” he says. He looks physically pained as he scrubs a hand over his cropped hair, but at least he’s not angry anymore. “I still think thats a fucking stupid idea.”
“Like I said,” you say, offering him a smile he shakily returns, “stupid ideas are kind of my thing.”
“Uh, can I say something?” Sam asks, breaking the illusion that it was only the two of you in the room for that particular argument. You both turn to look at him, and he almost backs down with the weight of both your gaze. He carries on, however, saying, “I’m glad you guys have had this breakthrough in your relationship, but that doesn’t really help us in figuring out who this guy is. Or who he works for. Or why he followed you. Or how he knows where Bucky lives in the first place.”
“We could go around and ask,” Steve says, shrugging at Natasha’s eyeroll. “What? Baseball bats really jog people’s memories.”
“Why don’t we ask the private investigator for some expert advice,” Natasha says, giving you a look that seems to say men, right? You’re still trying to get your head around the image of Steve threatening someone with a baseball bat when you’ve seen him with his own puke on his jumper singing Sweet Caroline into a toilet bowl.
“Well,” you begin, darting Bucky a look but he seems to be listening and not getting ready to yell at you again, “since apparently following the guy is off the table for now, I would start with me and Bucky. Enemies, bad blood, someone with an axe to grind. Pull at some threads and see what happens.”
“That shouldn’t be hard,” Sam says, “Bucky’s got more enemies than friends.”
“So do we all, punk,” Bucky grumbles, glaring at Sam. “We’re in a gang.”
“This ain’t about me.” Sam holds his hands up in mock innocence, grinning big like he gets unrivalled joy from making Bucky’s face do the twitchy, dark thing it’s doing right now. The impact is somewhat lessened by the swollen, black eye Sam’s sporting from the mission gone wrong today, you assume, but it doesn’t curb his enthusiasm.
“I can put together a list of the most recent run-in’s you’ve had by tomorrow,” Natasha says to Bucky, ignoring the bickering with practiced ease. “Until then, we should put some protection on your building.”
“You guys have bodyguards?” you ask before your brain can tell you that’s a dumb fucking question. All three of them laugh, Bucky hooking an arm around your shoulder to ruffle your hair as he tugs you into his side. Point taken, you think as you pout under Bucky’s arm.
“I’ll stay in the spare room,” Steve says, swinging himself off the couch to his full, ginormous height. That image of him with the baseball bat starts to take a bit more shape in your mind, and you don’t doubt for a second he could offer some extra protection where the stalker is concerned. To you, he asks, “You don’t mind if I third wheel?”
“It’s not my apartment,” you say, attempting to hide your blush under the weight of Bucky’s arm. You are unsuccessful, if Sam’s smirk is anything to go by.
“We’ll survive one night, punk,” Bucky says, giving you a squeeze. “Or just buy some earplugs.”
“Gross!” Sam cries, flailing an arm around. “Too much information!”
You have a feeling akin to whiplash at how well these people are taking a stalker and potential threat on their lives. Joking around, Steve fake-moaning just to make Sam scream, Natasha laughing until tears form in her eyes at the antics of two grown men chasing each other around the couches like school children. Glancing up at Bucky and the warm look he’s giving them all, you suppose it must be lot less scary to face something like that with friends. Family, you think, as Sam crash-tackles Steve into the couch and smothers his face with a pillow.
“You’ll be alright?” Natasha’s soft voice manages to scare you, jolting under Bucky’s hold as you turn from watching Steve and Sam to find her right by Bucky’s other side. She’s looking up at him, lips pressed into a firm line, and you remember the last time you were here - James is the only family I have. Maybe some are taking this development a bit easier than others.
“Always am,” Bucky says, using his free arm to punch her lightly on the shoulder. She gets him back, much harder, and you feel Bucky wince away from her and into your side. “Serious, Natashenka. I’ll be fine.”
“Good,” she says. Smirking, she adds, “I’ll kill you if you aren’t.”
You look back to Steve and Sam before they can notice you eavesdropping, a hot, honey-thick feeling melting through your skin. You want to know what that feels like in a way which burns; to have people who have your back like that, and your dad doesn’t count because he literally has to. You understood Bucky’s gang even less than you originally thought - he’s not just a biker, a criminal, a hit man or an ex-army vet turned enforcer, whatever the case may be. He’s a guy doing what he has to do to protect the people he loves, because he’s surrounded by them. You’ve never had to protect anyone but yourself.
You tuck yourself closer into Bucky’s side, letting the warmth and smell of him consume you. That’s gonna change, you think. This feeling in your chest is telling you that change is already happening.
~~~
Steve does not have to get ear plugs to survive the night, and you make both him and Bucky coffee before you head off. Shower, new clothes, work - all that normal people stuff you have to do. Steve, golden in the morning sun with the brightest smile on his face, and Bucky’s moody scowl at the early hour and dark rings under his eyes, wave you goodbye. You kiss Bucky’s pout before you go, letting him grab your ass for a second before you slip away.
“Don’t do anything stupid,” he says, and Steve snorts like there’s some joke you’re missing.
“I’ll go out the laundry window,” you say, as if this is a new development and not your usual routine. “Nobody’s gonna follow me, promise.”
“Hmph,” is all Bucky says and then you’re really gone, racing down the stairs and out the window like you always do.
Sorry Bucky, you silently think towards his apartment as instead of making to cut through the gym parking lot, you wrap back around his building and scan the street from behind the bins. Sure enough, opposite Bucky’s building with a baseball cap on and another cigarette, stands the same dude who followed you the first time. You really weren’t lying - stupid ideas are kind of your thing.
You make sure you’re hidden by a group of pedestrians as you slip out the side alley of Bucky’s apartment building and walk away from your stalker. He doesn’t notice, and you manage to walk a block and cross the road without him any the wiser. Your roles have switched as you hang out at the news-agency a few doors down from where he’s waiting, pretending to flick through a magazine. It’s easy to take a few picture of him over the top of the page with your phone, grainy but useable for when you show Bucky later.
You can deal with Bucky being angry at you, because you know how to do your job and this is the most efficient way to get intel. It’s always easier to ask for forgiveness than permission.
Eventually, you watch your stalker watch Bucky and Steve leave his building. It’s 9AM and they head to their respective bikes, revving off down the street in the general direction of Steve’s tattoo shop. Your man hunches his shoulders and pulls out his phone, taps into it for a bit, before he walks off in the opposite direction to Bucky and Steve. Not following them, then. Your stomach twists as you fall into pace a few people behind him. Just following you.
He gets on the subway, which makes  it very difficult for you to remain unnoticed but you manage to sit at the internal doors in the next carriage and watch him through those. He gets on his phone again, talking to someone with evident frustration if his clenched jaw and balled fist is anything to go by. He gets off in Manhattan, walks a few blocks, before ducking into a darkly lit bar called the Lerna. You decide it’s probably best not to follow him there, but you snap a few photos on your phone of the bar before doubling back out to Brooklyn.
You call Bucky as you go, a bit jittery at the incoming argument you know you’ve created, but you can’t help but feel it will be worth it. Now you have something to actually go off - a face, a name, some concrete facts. Much better than stabbing around in the dark. A few rings go by before Bucky picks up, saying, “Miss me already?”
“Get over yourself, tough guy,” you say, but you’re smiling. Maybe you do miss him already, just a bit. You were so focused on getting your information you didn’t get to fully savour Bucky this morning, all tanned muscles and tattoos, all yours. You force yourself to ruin the moment by saying, “I’ve got some information for you.”
“Me too,” he says, which surprises you. “Nat’s gotten together some potential candidates for your stalker. Have you got time to come to Steve’s tattoo place?”
“Sure,” you say, beginning to pick at your nails as the nerves set in.
There’s a beat of silence before Bucky must realise what you’d said before, and he doesn’t sound nearly as light and playful anymore “You said you had information? On what?”
“I’ll just show you when I get there,” you rush out, closing your eyes at the way Bucky sucks in a breath like he already knows what you’ve done. “Don’t be mad.”
“Oh, I’m not mad,” he says, as if through gritted teeth. “I’m fucking livid. Please tell me you didn’t follow that guy this morning.”
“Ok, I won’t tell you,” you say. “See you in twenty.”
“You’re dead meat,” he says before you hang up.
It could’ve gone worse, you muse as you round the corner to the subway station. Sure, Bucky threatened you with lethal violence and sounded even angrier than he’d gotten at the shop yesterday, but you can still imagine him smiling at his phone as you hung up the same way you’re smiling at yours now.
You text him the photos with a quick, Don’t say I never do anything for you xx
A minute after the photos deliver, Bucky is calling you again. You frown down at his caller ID, confused - you were on your way, why is he calling you back already? But before you answer that question, someone grabs your arm and tugs you away from the subway steps and into an alley instead. His grip is bruising, unbreakable, even as you scream and kick before he shoves a gun into your neck and you fall deathly silent.
“Scream and you’re dead,” the man says, hot on your ear. You can’t shudder away, his vice grip too tight and the cold steel on your jugular paralysing. You twist a bit to look behind you despite yourself, your stomach bottoming out at the familiar face which grins back at you. Baseball cap, brown hair, stubble - just like any other white guy. He sneers at you and says, “Not so clever now, huh?”
All you can hear, as your stalker marches you down the alley and into a waiting SUV with a gun to your back, is Bucky’s voice yelling this isn’t something you fuck around with. You’d let him say ‘I told you’ so a thousand times if it meant you got out of this alive. Hopefully, the phone tucked into your back pocket will be enough to save you. You hope Bucky is listening, the call you just managed to answer still catching the grunted conversation your kidnappers are having. You’ve never needed someone before, but god, do you hope Bucky’s got you now.  
Part 6
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bbbqlays · 4 years ago
Text
다섯: 강한 감정
5: Strong Feelings
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4
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It was a new day, and after your encounter yesterday with the man in charge, you were sort of on edge with everything.
“Hey there Eri. I heard you got new books to read.” Your hand reached to a box, opening it you found picture books along with fantasy chapter books. “Do you have a preference for any of these?”
She picked out the most colorful picture book. “You want to read the Paper Dragon?”
You picked up the book and looked at the cover. It was very colorful. She smiled widely, reaching out for the book with awe. “Okay!” You chuckled playfully sitting on her bed, she followed behind and brushed up against you.
You began reading, trying your best to make it entertaining, you even got one of the guards to laugh, a golden blonde haired man. You’ve never seen him until now, his eyes were a boost in mood, and you could tell he was smiling at certain moments.
The book was finished and Eri was way more excited about books, she jumped up but only fell on top of you as she laughed loudly.
“Ms, L/n, could you read another?”
“Why dont we do something better?”
Eri’s eyes lit up, wondering what could be better than a book. You stood up and went up to another box, you looked through to find one pair of child scissors and a bunch of colorful paper. You pulled out stacks and stacks and put them on the ground.
You waved eri over and pulled out a stack of papers. They were orgami papers with various colors. “We can make a paper dragon and hang it up on the ceiling” eri’s eyes brightened at the suggestion. “Oragami is one of the best things they teach you in school. Only because you can create anything out of paper by just folding.”
You divided the colors as quickly as you could before guiding eri through a talk. “Choose the colors and 12 pieces of paper.” She started picking out the colors, mostly being blues and purples, and everyone watched as she chose.
“Okay, and then now we are going to take the first piece.” You grabbed a random sheet of paper and sat on the ground across from her. You started to fold the paper and looked at eri to see if she followed. “And fold it... like that.” She did as she was told and smiled cheerfully while doing it.
Continuing, you explained and showed her every step. She followed delightfully. And the end result came to be two dragons long and proud. “And so now choose a color.” You offered the marker case and she randomly chose. It was purple. You picked out a black marker and picked up your dragon. “Draw a face.” You drew two little dots to signify eyes and a smile.
She did the same but instead had the tongue stick out. You both chuckled as you stood up, stretching. You looked at the clock on the side of her bed and sighed. “Looks like I need to go.” You groan and she followed with a sigh.
“Eri, I will be back tomorrow to hopefully do another fun activity. Maybe we’ll draw tomorrow.” Eri ran up and hugged, tightly gripping on your pants. She let go, but her stare seemed extra saddened. “See you tomorrow. Eat well.”
She nodded to that and you were escorted out. The man guiding you out had long golden hair. His mask fit snugly on his face, his green shirt adorned with a pinkish red tie.
You breathed softly as he guided you back to your room. “Does anyone ever talk?”
He looked at you, as if to smile. “Yeah, but usually to each other. Not really to the head.”
“The head... oh you mean Overhaul right?” He nodded in agreement. “What’s your name?”
“If you need to know, I’m Setsuno Toya.” He said it as if a weight was lifted off his shoulders. He was glad about the short lived conversation.
“Well, thank you Setsuno. Hopefully we can talk again.” He unlocked the doors with a bow, and you bowed again.
When entering you ripped off the mask and dropped it on your desk looking at the warm food displayed on the corner. It looked to be an American dish, specifically pizza. Toppings were placed on the side of the plate mostly meats.
You nodded to yourself and dug in, loving the warmth of the food. You closed your eyes enjoying the savory taste. It was a simple dish, and it tasted homemade. You wondered who made it and where, since you hadn’t smelled anyones cooking while with Eri.
You finished up, and looked around the desk, clothes laid out on the top and a new mask. You rolled your eyes feeling like a doll with all these clothes.
You rummaged through though, curious as to what they were. It was a blue short skirt, with black shorts, and a white button up blouse to match. It was as if it was made for a summer evening, or a date.
The thought made you chuckle as you threw them on the bed. To think you had a secret admirer was funny to also think about. The world built itself on soulmates, why would anyone play around with that.
The thought then hit you. “Fate... wouldn’t put me here right?” And you couldn’t play around with the thought of that because you couldn’t physically touch anyone.
Everyone had protection and you feel like you’d be killed if you were to touch someone. You tried to laugh the thought away but it lingered, and it scared you.
The clothes fit perfectly. Of course, and you felt good in it despite the earlier thoughts. You honestly thought you looked good in blue.
You enjoyed twirling around in it not being bothered to hear the door click open. You stopped twirling to feel good about yourself only to be met with the man in white.
Your face matched a shade of tomato as you went to try and hide yourself. You bowed to him apologizing silently. He simply bowed to you as well verbally apologizing for disrupting.
“I just came to get you for the meeting.”
You cleared your throat as you nodded. You grabbed the mask on the desk and threw it on still blushing embarrassingly. You walked out with him trying your best to slow your heart rate.
“Chrono right?” He nodded. “You’re like his right hand man, correct?”
“Yes, despite his demeanor he’s actually good.”
“I wasn’t doubting him, I was just going to ask... Why all this?”
Chrono looked at you not understanding the question. “Why this whole base? It seems eerie and too much.”
“Overhaul.” Chrono paused and thought about what to say. “He want’s to change the world. He wants an old image to come back.” Chrono nodded to his statement and continue guiding.
“So, it’s to better society... Correct?”
He nodded and that seemed to lift a burden from you somehow.
Chrono slowly opened the door and to welcome you was the same masked face you had seen last night. This time his tie was loosely around his neck, and he seemed more stressed than anything.
“Welcome Back!” Overhaul greeted you with open arms as he watched you sit. “Hopefully today wasn’t too overbearing.”
“No, of course not. Me and Eri simply read and did origami. Which I thank you for getting supplies for that.”
“So, I see you guys are getting along.” He adjusts his tie and looks off into the distance. “Do you have any other requests?”
Your eyes darted to his face immediately wondering what context. “To take care of Eri.” You were shaky now. Your head wanted to explode as you thought of other things to request that wasn’t for the benefit of Eri.
“Just supplies to draw with.” He nodded and looked at you pleasingly.
“And do you need anything? Specific things you had in your living quarters that you need here.”
You pondered. “If possible. A small library.” Your request seemed to peek his interest, and he simply chuckled.
“Very well.” His hand issued you away, and Chrono guided you out.
“Chrono. How can you tell when Overhaul likes someone?” It was a bold statement and you felt as if he wouldn’t answer properly.
“Don’t worry. He likes you just fine.” He gave you a genuine answer, making you think.
“Now, get some rest. And leave a note of all your favorite breakfast items under the door. Our ‘chef’ wants to make your stay here interesting and home-y.” He left with a nod.
You smiled, not a big smile, because what was there to smile about. You turned on the small lamp light on your desk and scanned your room feeling something off.
Flowers were on your nightstand. Not the ones from before but new ones. White roses. They filled the whole room with a beautiful scent.
You rushed to find another note under the vase, your hands feeling the hand writing. Beautiful cursive saying
‘You’re like a beautiful dove amongst a trash filled park. You stand out like a sore thumb. You please me without knowing it, and for that I keep you near.’
You couldn’t help but shiver as you read it. A smile wider than usual filled itself along your face.
“Beautiful.”
Someone is playing with the strings of fate, and falling for you evidently. You held the note close to your heart laughing loudly as you thought of who it could be.
Your heart fluttered as you thought of the man in white. He seemed to have more personality in this place than anyone else, and he’s seen you the most.
You giggle at the thought, and the thought of not even seeing his face filled you with mysterious happiness.
It was like being in grade school again...
Hey hey! Its Lay. I am sad to inform you that I am sick. I have covid and so it’s hard to get things done while sick. So sorry if uploads are delayed, and or not posted weekly. I’m trying my best, and hopefully you guys support me all the way through.
And if you want content from me everyday, I have a tiktok. I try my best to post everyday, but if you like overhaul here, you’ll definitely like overhaul over there! Thank you so much for reading and hopefully you stay healthy!
TAG LIST (OPEN)
@inanabsentia @wormxunii @lalachanya @cth-l @a-monsters-love @irisallenm @awkward-confused
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megastarstriker · 4 years ago
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★{𝗡𝗲𝘅𝘁 𝗧𝗼 𝗡𝗼𝗿𝗺𝗮𝗹}★
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𝙒𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨: Bullying and Abuse, Slight Cussing, Depression and Anxiety 
Contains: FLUFF AND ANGST
𝙋𝙖𝙞𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜: Nikki Sixx x Asperger’s! Female Reader
𝙒𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝘾𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩:
Summary: (Y/N) a 13 year old girl goes to her first day in high school. Despite the hard attempts and making friends because of her socially awkwardness she finds herself distracted by a certain boy in her class. (Note: This isn’t made for discrimination or stereotypes to people who go through anxiety, depression or have autism. This is all real stuff and written for the sake of notice and to betaken seriously. I won’t be portraying any kind of offensive or critical stereotypes nor will ever in this one-shot. This was based on personal experience and point of view. IF YOU ARE DEALING WITH ANXIETY AND DEPRESSION AND ARE TRIGGERED BY THESE SAME THEMES. PLEASE DO NOT READ FOR YOUR OWN SAKE. AND IF YOU ARE SUFFERING FROM EITHER ONE, PLEASE FIND SUPPORT OR HELP, WE ARE ALL HERE FOR YOU EVEN IF YOU DONT THINK SO WE ARE. WE WILL HELP YOU GET THROUGH IT, AND IN THE END IT WILL HELP YOU ALOT💕 )
𝙏𝙖𝙜𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩: @metalheartofgold, @ginny-rose-sixx, @xxqueencolourxx​, @littlemisscare-all​,
💕 LOVE YOU GUYS AND LET ME KNOW IF YOU WANNA GET TAGGED  💕 
Keys:
(Y/N) - Your Name
(L/N) - Last Name
{Photos and gifs aren’t mine they belong to their owners. I only own the editing} 💕
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 1971
“Mommy, what if the other kids don’t like me or hate me.....”, I managed to utter out as I looked at her through a glimpse as I looked down at my shoes, while sitting on the stool near the counter. 
“Oh Honey, don’t say that, you know that’s not true.”, Mom said in a cheery voice as she was working on breakfast listening to me as she did,” Some of those kids will like you. Might even want to be your friend.”
I looked up at my mom only glancing at her back as she was stirring the ingredients in a bowl, my attitude and mood not changing from its gloom state as I heard those positive words, as it should.’ Is she only saying that to make me feel better?’ I thought in my head as I felt a bit angry at the thought, a bit happy too that she cared, though it didn’t change my idea of it nonetheless. 
......
......
......
“They think I’m a freak and a monster.....”, I said suddenly without emotion my voice breaking a bit as I felt tears building up a bit on my eyes at the idea of it, trying my best not let them crawl and trace down my cheeks as I didn’t want her to see me cry.
My mom then turned around from what she was doing in the kitchen towards me her eyes widening at what I said, almost dropping the pan she was holding that held a small stack of pancakes, as she heard those sharp and painful words out of my mouth. She gulped slightly making me quirk an eyebrow, waiting for a response and obviously worried and confused for her silence, feeling insecure as I awaited her answer. She then put the pan down and walked towards me kneeling down unto my level as I tried my best to dry roughly at the tears. Only for her to gently push them away from my face and take her soft and delicate hands and brush the tears away with her fingertips as she grabbed my face gingerly, her eyes filled with concern as she did.
“You are not a freak or a monster....Ok. and definitely not a monster.”, My mom corrected me sincerely as she said in a whispering tone to me letting her forehead connect with mine as her gaze met mine.” You are just different from the rest of the other kids.”
“You are special.”, She said as she kissed my forehead, embracing me as she did, returning the hug it a few moments later as I registered the action in my brain. Letting my arms wrap around her for warmth and comfort, as I left the few remaining tears drop unto her clothed shoulder, cursing myself for it.
......
......
......
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“Yeah Right.”, I muttered under my breath sarcastically as I replayed the events from this morning. Holding a pen and flicking it repeatedly, as I felt my anxious state grow with every step I took towards what was now called my school, trying to take my stress away roughly at the writing utensil gripped tightly at my hand as I repeated the process. This was a soothing technique for me for whenever I felt overly stressed or anxious in a situation. Despite the annoying sound it would do, I couldn’t help but feel calm and relief wash over me as I felt the tensing energy leave my body, easing my breathing, nerves, and muscles. I then stopped as I calmed down putting the pen on my pocket as I released a sigh, gripping my bag tightly.
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This wasn’t the first time my mother has said or used the word special in those exact occasions. To be honest there was nothing special about me. This wasn’t my first school that I was attending either. I’ve been to many, and seen many faces from kids my age and younger to teachers and parents. Despite their differences they have one thing in common when it came to me. They all gave me the same look. Whether it was pitiful or dirty it didn’t matter. All the different kids from different schools gave me that same stupid and meaningless face. At first I thought it was because I was new to them, but then I started to quickly realize it wasn’t just that.....I was a shy girl so I never really understood at that time. All those times I would try to talk to people or waiting for them to approach me as I sat alone calmly doing my work....Being friendly and confident as possible as I greeted them with the best and nicest smile I could muster on my young face...They never responded back they simply whispered something to another kid and simply left me standing there stranded as they went to play with the other kids... Avoiding me entirely even when I went to speak with them again....Sometimes I tried asking the kids if I could play but they would either ignore me and walk away or say that It wasn’t a game for me to play......
“Did I say something wrong?”
“Was I not suppose to talk to them?”
“Why aren’t they talking to me?”
Those were some of the thoughts I had, but I knew those weren’t the exact reasons, knowing fully well I wasn’t bad when it came to speech or greetings when I talked to other people. The teachers blamed me for it of course, when I asked them why the other kids avoided me.
“Maybe if you weren’t and acted like such a freak, they would be talking to you.”, One Teacher I remembered bitterly saying to me with the fakest smile as she then turned her back towards me walking away from my small frame not caring whether those words struck my small heart or tear up and cry.
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I shook my head and decided to think of something else as my sneakers grazed the cement floor on the sidewalk. I then looked towards the sky seeing the sun shinning and the pure white clouds forming picturesque structures as they floated above. ‘I wonder if there is any people living in those fluffy clouds?’, I thought with a smile,’ Is there such a thing as cloud puppies too!?’ 
I giggled a bit as I thought about what a cloud puppy would look like. Sort of like a poodle or    but more fluffier and soft fur like marshmallows and cotton candy combined.  “Are clouds tasty?”, I whispered out loud as I kept staring at the edible-looking clouds, ‘They do look a lot like cotton candy....so maybe.’
I then starred at my feet laughing at the thought, only for then to look up and noticed that I was already in front of the school.
I gulped as I was frozen in place.
“Here goes nothing”, I said to myself a bit nervously as I let my feet drag slowly towards the horrors of what was now officially called my school.
Walking towards the doors of the school, I couldn’t help but feel a wave of nausea hit me, totally uncomfortable on how all of this was going to go. After I enter the entrance to the school through the double doors I couldn’t help but notice one unnormal thing.
Empty halls.
‘Weird.’, I thought in my head with a raised eyebrow.,’ I thought it would be crowded by this time.’
Reading the letters on top of the doors, I checked to see my assigned class as I looked at each one on both sides of me in the empty halls. Seeing the exact one I enter it only for then to see a crowd of unfamiliar faces turned all of their heads in sync towards me.
I then closed it behind me with a jitter in my hands as I felt belittled by all the beady eyes of the students that were staring at me while sitting in there sits.
“Mrs.(Y/N), You’re late!”, A female voice said harshly next to me.
I then turned towards the origin of the voice to my right, seeing it was a middle aged woman with long hair that was tied up into a bun and was wearing glasses underneath her brown caramel eyes. Her faced was adorned with makeup and an angry scowl in her face as her eyes met mine, obviously unhappy and pissed.
“Care to explain why?.”, She said in a dominant tone, and with stern eyes as she crossed her arms across her chest and her heels clicked underneath the marble floor of the classroom as she tapped her foot impatiently.
“I-i....”, I started with a stammer and whisper obviously nervous and uneasy about all of the students who were staring at me in the front of the class.,”I-im sorry..”
‘Way to go me....’, I thought sarcastically at myself as I said those words.
The teacher squinted her eyes with a humph, only to then close them. Then as if on cue....
An erupting choir of laughter resounded in the entirety of the room in sync as all of the kids started to laugh at me. In that moment I felt humiliated and irritated,  I wanted to just throw myself in a box and at the same time tell the kids to shove their mouths up their own asses to shut them up. But I felt completely vulnerable at the moment unknowing of what to say. as I felt small....
‘So much for good impressions.’, I thought in defeat as I looked down at the floor.
“Quiet down class, quiet down!”, The teacher said as she stared at room full of teens as they all kept quiet some of them still snickering softly, or trying to control the laughter that was still trying to emit from their lips.
“I’ll let you off with a warning since you did apologize, after all. The next time though I won’t and you will be sent to the principal’s office as punishment if this repeats. Understood.”, She said a bit more warmly still keeping a strict poise as she turned towards me.
I nodded slowly of course as I listen to her words looking down a bit ashamedly as I did.” Yes Mrs....”
“Mrs. Johnson.”, She said with a small smile and then she gestured towards the empty seat,” You can go ahead and sit next to Frank over there in the back.”
I then followed her arm towards were she was exactly pointing and to my thoughts, there was a boy with an orange pale button up shirt in the far back right next to were my assigned seat was, looking and snapping his thoughts towards the teacher as he heard his name from the teacher’s mouth. I gulped ‘Why the far back?’ I then looked towards the front row and saw the whole aisle filled students already, ‘Oh that’s why...’
Taking a deep breath, I stepped towards through the rows of filled seats, hearing whispers or name-callings as I walked past them towards my seat. Of course I glared at the students a bit in front of me while also trying to put a fake smile for them as I tried my best to ignore their harsh and childish remarks. As I reached the desk, I couldn’t help but notice the ��Frank” boy from earlier stare at me from the corner of my eyes as I sat beside him, knowing that he wasn’t in the beginning until he heard his name being called. His bright green eyes observing me as I put my backpack close to my side and slumped into my seat. I then saw as the boy stared for a few seconds at me more before looking away from me in boredom just like a few minutes earlier. 
As he looked away, I couldn’t help but stare at him as I got good look at him clearly compared to when I was in the front of the class. “Frank” had brown blondish hair that was a bit long and slicked back neatly, green and slightly dark eyes as the color of leaves in the trees during springs or summer as they stared boredly away as one hand was held towards his cheek, leaning his elbow against and touching the table on his desk propping his head up, wearing his orange pale button up shirt and white pants, along with some sneakers. 
“Cute.”, I whispered a bit too loudly as I stared at him my cheeks dusting with a violent red as I realized what words fell from  my mouth. Frank being near me ,considering he was beside me and the whole class was quiet at the moment, turned his head to me as he heard what I said with a confused face, either not catching what I just heard or uncomfortable with what I said from my understanding. I then stared to the front away from him, my shoulders tense, my face completely red, and my heart beating out as if it were to rip away from my ribcage and body. I breathed steadily and sighed, as I felt his stare drift away as he huffed a bit going back to his usual stuff to staring at nothing. ‘Geez, what are you thinking girl.....’, I scolded at myself with a mental facepalm,’ You already messed it up with coming late, now your making it worse by telling a boy he is cute....Ugh, at least I hope he didn’t hear me.’
The teacher started lesson as if a few minutes prior and after the incident. Staring mindlessly at the chalkboard, I couldn’t help but feel a bit tired and suddenly....bored as I tuned out the teachers words. ‘School sucks.’, I thought for a moment before a lightbulb suddenly went above my head with a silent yawn,’ I’m gonna draw.’
I then took my separate drawing pad, pen and pencil, while flipping to and empty page. I then started to work my magic as I began to doodle what was on my mind as ideas spurred through my brain. I was pondering on what to draw as I held the pen close to my chin. I had a great influence and overall interest in music, I loved it so much especially when it came to rock music. Because of that, I wanted to become a musician or songwriter one day. I then thought about drawing puppies or rockstars.....
I then did just that as I drew cute little doodles of puppies along with a rockstar sketch of my favorite musician. As I kept listening at the teacher to the class while also distracting myself with some quality time for me, I noticed something soft yet solid grazing shoulder slightly, landing at next to my feet on the floor. It was a crumbled up piece of paper that was made into a ball. Rolling my eyes, I didn’t think any of it as I kept tracing my pen on the paper. 
‘Psst. Hey.’ 
Fixated on the paper I kept on drawing cute little stars and details on the drawing oblivious to the person that was calling someone else, whoever did. 
‘Psst!’
This time it was a bit more louder but still made into a whisper as I didn’t bother to check who it was that made the noise.
I then felt another hard thud on my shoulder this time still soft but harsh as the solid material hit me directly. Leaving my eyes from the paper as I had an angry frown in my face obviously annoyed at the person who threw the paper at me, I looked towards the person who made the ‘psst’ sound again only to see that it was the so called ‘Frank’ boy from earlier. 
He then gestured towards the crumbled sheet of paper in front of my desk. I narrowed my brows at him, with suspicion but complied either way so he could stop bothering me, despite the fact he seemed friendly. Grabbing the crumbled sheet, I heard the sound of the bell ringing before I could open it. The class was then dismissed but before I could read the note that the boy passed to me. I felt a harsh shove as I fell back on the seat causing the note to fall from my hands and into the floor, nobody noticing as they let their dirty shoes graze and paint the paper. Seeing that everyone left including the person that shoved me by accident, I went to pick up the note from the ground only to see that it was indeed painted with shoe prints and ripped in half harshly. ‘Ugh...’ I groaned in disgust as I went to the trash to throw it away,’ I hope it wasn’t something important that I needed to know.’
I then looked towards the back of the class were Frank was, only to find out he wasn’t there anymore. Frowning a bit at the thought as I was hoping maybe I could talk to him, I went towards were all the students were going....probably the cafeteria..
‘Maybe I’ll see him there’, I thought lightening up a bit with a smile.”
‘We’ll even be friends probably....”
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{AUTHORS NOTE}
Hey there I hope you all enjoyed this little miniseries I’m doing. The reason I made this was because of personal experience in my early years in high school, and I felt I had to write them down. I also wondered how it will be like if Sixx to ever meet a girl with autism. I’ll be uploading part two as soon as I can of course .hope you liked it and Thank you for reading.
💗{LIKE OR REBLOG TO SAVE}💗
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what-the--curtains · 4 years ago
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Alliance
Chapter 9 – The Hunt
(Mando x f!reader)
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Summary: After recovering you set off to find the man who tried to kill you. Killing him proves to be more difficult than expected when the ones you love are threatened, and on the other side of the choice, your own future.
Authors note: One more chapter to go!! Some angst at the end here! Hope y’all enjoy ❤️❤️❤️! (I also did some very average fan art if y’all haven’t seen it yet!)
Tw: sex is alluded to (not depicted), decapitation, force choke
Word count: 4.9k
Tagged list: @crazycookiecrumbles, @seninjakitey
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The planet proved harder to find than expected, despite Anya's best efforts, something was fogging up her tracking causing your coordinates to be constantly in flux. She’d easily lead you past the outer rim, but since then it had been akin to a wild goose chase.
“Any idea who tried to kill you.” Din asks, he'd been exceptionally patient throughout the journey thus far. Never questioning your methods just typing in the new location coordinates calmly and re aligning the ship on its new course.
“Did kill me” you correct, as your hand moves absentmindedly over the healed wound. “but no, I dont. They had a lightsaber though”
“Was it a Jedi?” he asks earnestly.
“Well based on the context clues, I'd definitely say at least Jedi adjacent” you laugh, for a savvy strategist who knew multiple languages you sometimes found yourself questioning if his brain was in fact functioning.
“Why would a Jedi try and kill you?”
“Your guess is as good as mine”
“How do they decide on colors?” He asks after a somewhat awkward silence
“Hmmm” you hum out in confusion, only half paying attention to what he had said.
“The light swords? Ashoka's are blue, yours is purple and the figures, well there's was red” your heart stops.
“It was red?” you ask, sitting up in your seat giving him your undivided attention.
“Ya does that mean something?” He watches your eyes slowly piecing together what he'd just told you.
“That’s impossible, the Sith were defeated. They died with the emperor.” you affirm, your sure red was a common colour used by Jedi nowadays, sure no one had ever seen one before, but there was a first time for everything right?
“So were the Jedi.” he points out.
“Do you always have to be right?” you ask slightly irritated for a reason you couldn’t quite explain. He doesn't respond; he knows a rhetorical question when he hears one but unsure what he had done to upset you. An uncomfortable silence lingers in the air, a sensation you'd never experienced with the Mandalorian before. Not wanting to stew in the quiet you head down to the lower levels and try and calm your frazzled mind. Sitting down you cross your legs, one over the other, as you close your eyes.
On the best of days meditating was a chore, but under the current situation it had become an impossible task. It wasn’t the threat of being ambushed that had you distracted, no something else was playing heavily on your mind. It was what was causing the punctuated silences, forced conversation and overall awkwardness in the atmosphere. It was your own doing. Seriously, who kisses a man whose face they've never seen! Idiots that's who and now it was stuck on your mind. In your defense you thought you wouldn't have to deal with the fallout so quickly. You should have known he’d have insisted on going with you, but you hadn't thought that far ahead, or at all and now you had to sit with the fact that you’d possibly ruined your comfortable friendship by planting one on him. Technically it wasn’t a real kiss,or maybe it was, how did Mandalorians kiss anyways? There you were down the rabbit hole again, this is why you couldn't focus, you curse yourself. Shaking your head you remind yourself it was only done in an attempt to get around him, a strategic move to protect the group, nothing more, nothing less. Keeping that in mind you manage to focus and you feel the galaxy's pulse emitting throughout the ship, inhaling and exhaling with the undulations around you.
Din, bored and missing the usually witty banter you offered him, decided it was time for him to clear the air in regards to the kiss. He hopes by telling you that he knew it was only done to get around him, you’d become more relaxed. The last thing he wanted was for you to be uncomfortable around him. He knew you'd never want to be with someone like him, at least in that way. As he turns around he sees you cross legged floating in the air, not wanting to interrupt he heads back up. Anya lifts her head as he re-enters, looking at him as if she knew what he was thinking. He’ll clear the air with you later, the two of you had plenty of time to talk.
You curse as your journey gets rerouted for what had to be the twelfth time in the past two days. Whoever was hunting you did not want to be found and no amount of swearing or whacking the console would change that. The closer you got to your destination the more you felt the malevolent presence grow. You found yourself wondering if it had always been with you, finding it hard to remember a time when it wasn't gnawing at your conscience. Each time you feel it scratching at your doors you remember Ashoka's words “be careful who you let into your head.” You'd made that mistake once with devastating consequences. You would not be making it again. Your energy was now primarily being spent keeping the presence at bay, not allowing it to penetrate any deeper than it already had. Sleeping only acted as an open invitation for the figure to torture you so you opted to forgo it altogether. Perhaps not the wisest decision, but what other choice did you have.
“The planet’s still a few days away.” Din says, noting the unraveled look in your eyes as you take your place next to him.
“Anything to do on this ship.” You ask, fidgeting in your seat. “like games or something” he doesn't respond “Hey beskar head! You awake under that helmet?”. You ask partially joking, partially annoyed that he wasn't talking to you.
“Yes.”
“Yes to games or yes to being awake?”
“To games” you smile, you never knew if he was actually making jokes or if you were just reading into it. The finer details of his personality artfully hidden beneath the metal exterior.
“Got Dejarik, you know how to play?” he asks, glad that you were back to yourself for the time being.
“I'm alright” you say smiling, you were better than alright, at least you think. To be fair you'd only ever played against one person and she was family and probably inclined to letting you win.
“You're cheating!” he exclaims, his annoyance apparent even through the modulator. Your skills were better than you expected especially after all those years, well either that or the Mandalorian was just that bad.
“How?” you ask, laughing at how frustrated he was getting. It was funny when you beat him the second time, but by gods it was even funnier when you beat him the seventh time.
“The force!” He says clenching his hand as he stares down at the board.
“I don't think the force bothers itself with helping me beat you at Dejarik.” you point out, as he grumbles something indistinguishable.
“Maybe you're just not as good as you think you are.” You tease pointing your finger at him eyebrows raised and a smirk plastered on your face.
“That’s not what I’ve been told,” he responds.
“About Dejarik or?” he laughs it off, but you seriously wanted to know the answer. After Cara told you he was allowed to have sex it was a question that you’d thought about a lot, more than you probably should have, but hey you were curious. Realizing the Mandalorian was now turning the game board over to see if it was rigged, you decide to change games.
“You still got that indestructible spear. The beskar one?” you ask nonchalantly.
“Yes, not something i'm planning on losing” he nods
“Fancy a match?” you offer you needed to work on your fighting skills, practicing on the air only went so far.
“Only if you promise not to slice through my ship.” He says, standing up.
“Only if you promise not to cry when I beat you.” you return causing him to scoff
“Oh im not going to be the one crying” he assures.
You stand in the ship's far corner across from Din who haphazardly twirls the spear in his hand as you open up your saber, raising it waiting for him to make the first move. He stays his ground, you and him were both defensive fighters and you knew he was far too stubborn to change his routine. Leaping forward you land in front of him, your saber making contact with the spear. After a few seconds spent testing his strength you know there's no feasible way for you to out muscle him. You'd have to out maneuver him. He’d seen you fight stronger opponents before so you’d have to think outside the box on this one. You move out from under the spear the release of your counter force causing Din to stumble forward. You turn aiming for his shin, but his arm reaches back the spear stopping your hit from connecting with his armour. You circle round him so you're once again face to face giving him enough time to stand back up. He turns quickly, swinging the spear as he does, aiming for your waist. You jump over the swipe landing behind him, hitting him in the back.
“Point to me.” you say
“No using the force” he says, turning to look down at you, his presence suddenly looming.
“I wasn't, I can just jump really high!” You lie.
“Likely story” he says brushing past you as he moves back to his starting spot
“What was that I said about crying earlier?” you question.
He's got you talking too long and he sweeps your feet out from under you knocking you on your ass and gently tapping you on the head with the spear.
“Point me” he says, offering you his hand.
“That was dirty” you say as he hoists you up.
“Who says we're playing clean sweetheart?” The term catches both of you off guard, but he's flustered himself more than you, allowing you to land the next two points.
“Hope your ego isn't too hurt darling.” you mock back at him as metal and light collide once again.
“It’s not over yet” he says, using all his strength to march you back towards the wall pinning you against it with his spear.
“You need to work on your attack, you leave a lot open” he says, breathing heavily.
“You need to work on a codpiece, it leaves a lot open” you retort, kneeing him in the groin, hard enough for him to drop you, but not so hard that it kept him down for long.
“Not enough beskar” he murmurs, hoping to get the last word in.
“Oh big brag for a man who just lost several games of Dejarik in a row and” your sentence is cut short as the spear taps the small of your back giving him the winning point
“And what?”
“Oh real classy Din, can’t win a fair fight” you say hand on your hip.
“It was fair considering I wasn't going 100%”
‘Oh you weren't” you mock, the smile telling him you were amused and not upset by his antics, the gentle slap on his arm further verifying this. The moments like this were nice, but as you continue to gain on your target they became fleeting. The Mandalorian watches as your ability to focus waivers, your frustration becoming increasingly evident in your training. Miraculously, you hadn't sliced through anything important, but the ship’s interior was constantly needing to be patched up. At least it kept him occupied and out of your hair. You looked like you were fighting a hidden battle, one he would gladly fight with you, if you'd let him. He didn’t know the full extent of your struggle, but he knew the anger he felt simmering inside you wasn't being aided by your refusal to sleep.
Your irritability, although caused by exerting tremendous energy keeping the figure at bay, was no excuse for the times you had lashed out at the Mandalorian. The most recent outburst occurred when he'd stepped on your foot after you had explicitly told him to watch out. In hindsight, threatening to melt his beskar down and turn it into a hearing aid for him so he could stop being such a nerf herder was a touch harsh. Alright, incredibly harsh especially considering he'd attempted to apologize before you went off on him.
“Sorry I threatened the beskar” you murmur sitting down next to him
“Are you going to tell me what's going on?” he asks
“Going on where” you ask
“Well it can't just be air in your head” he jokes, causing you to laugh for the first time in a few days.
“Seriously though , I'm sorry Ive been out of line, and it's not fair on you, you’ve been so understanding.”
“You know what might help with the outbursts?”
“A lecture?” you remark, your tone harsher than intended
“No, sleep, you should try it sometime”
“I'm fine without it” you say, the yawn escaping your lips contradicting your words.
“You should sleep.”
“ You don’t.” you remark hoping to catch him off guard, but he's obviously rehearsed this conversation a few times.
“ I don’t need to.”
“Neither do I.” You lie, almost a year later and you still had no idea how he slept so little, though your current working theory was that he would just take naps under the helmet when he thought he could get away with it.
“No, you can't sleep, there's a distinct difference.”
Not wanting to lash out at him for the third time that day and knowing he was right, you make a swift exit. You push the button that opens up to the tight sleeping quarters where you'd spent many hours lying awake. You were hoping that you'd reached an exhaustion point where your body would just shut down. You lay back on the bed not bothering with the covers, you weren't expecting to get comfortable. Anya had stopped trying to sleep in the same bed as you, usually getting inadvertently kicked or shoved out the bed by your constant movements. Your eyes can’t have been closed for more than a minute when they snap open. Despite their alertness your body's gone limp. What fresh hell was this? As your eyes adjust to the darkness you can only just make out the hauntingly familiar shape sitting at the edge of your bed. You go to call out for the Mandalorian, but no sound is emitted, nothing comes out at all not even air. You watch helplessly as the figure's arm extends ensnaring you in a choke hold, the yellow iris shining out beneath the hood, confirming your worst fear. A Sith. You scream yourself awake, the force causing items to fly to the ground, no doubt alerting the Mandalorian. You bring your knees to your chest grabbing at your scalp telling yourself it wasn’t real, but it didn't matter what you said. The truth was you couldn’t tell anymore all lines had blurred together. You get up off the bed looking around the room already exhausted at having to clean up yet another mess you had made. You lean over picking up the weapons that had fallen off the armoury hanging them back up when you hear the Mandalorian drop down the sound startling you.
“I'm sorry” you mutter embarrassed, not looking up as you move to grab the few dishes currently lying on the floor.
“What did I say about breaking the ship?” he says, chuckling slightly in an attempt to lighten the mood. He bends down to help you but you grab his arm stopping him.
“I made the mess. I'll clean it up.” You say gathering up the utensil and placing them back on the table absentmindedly stroking your throat as you turn to pick up the rest. As you reach for the chess board he grabs your hands, intertwining his fingers with yours, leading you back over to the bed.
“Get some rest, I'll clean up,” he says softly, sitting you down on the bed.
“Stop telling me what to do Din, besides it's not working.”
“You need to sleep.”
“I can’t and unless you can think up a way to make me then were shit out of luck.”
“I can think of a few ways.” he mumbles hoping it was loud enough for you to hear.
“Like what? Knocking me out with a blaster?” you scoff
“ A less violent way,” The words leave his mouth before he can fully assess the pros and cons of what he was offering to do.
“Reciting the entire code of conduct of the mandalore race to me?” Gods, how were you still not getting this.
“A less boring way.” He prays that you either catch on or he passes away suddenly so as to save him from any further embarrassment.
“Oh” you punctuate, lips parted slightly suddenly realizing exactly what was being offered to you “you think you can tire me out?”
“Only if you want.” he says, more confident now you hadn't outright rejected him
“Well I have been dying to see what’s under that armour”
“ You’ve seen it before”, and you couldn't wait to see it again.
“Not all of it”
“The helmet stays on,” he asserts.
“Not what I was referring to.” He stands there for a moment unsure how to proceed, not wanting to have misread the situation. “Well are you just going to stand there or are you not a man of your word?” That’s all the encouragement he needs.
“You want me to stop at any time, you just say so cyar’ika”
Once again the Mandalorian was right ; he was able to tire you out. Neither of you say anything after both at a loss for words, and not wanting to ruin the moment by saying the wrong thing. You fall asleep with his arm wrapped securely around your waist, as the other runs up and down your back. His heartbeat lulling you into a deep sleep, his presence managing to stay off any nightmares, at least for now.
He stays with you long after you’ve dozed off watching your back rise and fall in time with your breathing, he thanks the gods you were finally resting. He intently studies the faint purple markings covering your body, wondering how long they'd been there. His hand then tracing over the scars on your back, he wants to know how you got them. He wanted to know everything. Once this was all a distant memory he’d ask, if you chose to stick around that is. Knowing you won't want to find him in your bed when you wake up, he slides his arm from your waist and quietly, so as not to wake you, he puts his clothes back on. Re-donning his armour he heads back upstairs to check on the ship.
Your body shivers inadvertently at the loss of heat and your eyes slowly open. The room’s still dark, but the Mandalorian had gone. He must have left sometime in the night presumably his way of telling you it was a one off. Knowing Din to be a man of few words you knew talking about what had just happened was fully off the table. You sit up and stretch out, allowing your elbows to pop and your shoulders to crack as you roll them out, feeling a way that you hadn't felt in months. Well rested. Making your way over to the fresher you allow the water to wash over you removing any remaining scent attributed to the Mandalorian. After dressing you head up to the cockpit, slightly bow legged from the night before. You’d had your fair share of lovers and for a human, he was very well endowed and very eager to please.
“How far” you ask brushing any thoughts about last night from your head as you shoo Anya off your seat.
“You’re up sooner than I thought.” He says looking at you. He’d noticed the slight stagger in your walk causing him to smirk under the helmet, but the smile fades when you don’t look down.
“How far are we?” you ask again, picking up Anya who’s refused to move of her own volition.
“Close. About last night” he starts, wanting to make sure everything was okay, and that you weren’t regretting what had happened.
“ Look, we don’t have to talk about it. I know it wasn’t a big deal.” You say.
“It may not be a big deal for you.” you don't know why, but you take that tone as being pointed, referring specifically to your time spent in the rings.
“Why? because I've slept with half the galaxy? Something I did in order to survive an environment let’s not forget you put me in?” you spit out
“ No, I-I didn’t mean,” he starts. It's the first time you've ever heard him stumble over his words.
“ You never do.” You say, shutting him up for the remainder of the trip.
“Dropping out now.’ He says, 5 days, that's how long it had taken to get to where you were going, whoever was on the planet was committed to not being found, or at least committed to having you as sleep deprived as possible.
You step out with the Mandalorian close behind you, the planet's surface reflecting the ship's underlights back into its metal exterior. The mirrored rock had sprouted out into various forms and sharp geometric shapes, resulting in a beautiful, but sinister skyline.
“You sure this is the place? Doesn't look like any living thing could survive here.”
“Yes, I can sense a disturbance. You stay here with Anya.” you say placing a hand on his chest plate.
“No way.” Din responds
“I have to do this alone. It's too dangerous for you.”
“For me?” he says in disbelief.
“Wait here if i'm not back within the hour, leave.” You state ignoring his last question.
“ I'll give you two for good measure” he offers, holding out a blaster for you to take.
“It won't help.” You say pushing it back towards him before pulling up your hood and setting off into the unknown. Once he's sure you're out of sight, he follows you.
You close your eyes, letting your senses lead you through the sharpened planet careful not to cut yourself on the dark obsidian refelcting blurred images of the stars. A rock snaps under your foot and your eyes open. A voice calls out to you, uttering your name.
“Who are you.” you ask aloud, turning to face the cloaked figure who stands before you.
“ That is not important” he answers, lips not moving. Telepathy. So that’s how he'd gotten into your head.
“You tried to kill me I think it's at least relevant.” You return in thought.
“You came alone.” he asks, yellow eyes darting from side to side, despite the power this figure held you send a nervousness harboured deep within him, perhaps you should have brought the Mandalorian along with you.
“ Yes” you lie, hoping your force was strong enough to shield the bounty hunter.
“Good.” he snarled.
“Why did you kill me.” you ask not wanting to beat around the bush
“To see if I could. I needed to see your abilities, you’re stronger than I thought if you brought yourself back to life. The empire is rebuilding”, he offers not clearing the situation up in the least
“The empire died with Palpatine, they’re nothing but warmongering desolates now” you say shaking your head, not believing you had flown halfway across the galaxy for this.
“That’s what they have told you. We have been growing an army, led by the spirit of the emperor. We are seeking those with your abilities to help us rebuild.”
“You’ve lost your mind. The Sith were defeated long ago, the Jedi with them.” You turn to leave, no longer fearing this man, he holds no power over you.
“No” he shrieks, the sound drawing your gaze back to him, the noise frightening you slightly “You cannot leave. You cannot go. You will join us and rebuild a stronger galaxy.”
“I have no interest in joing a cult of fear and genocide.” you state calmly.
“It is more than a cult I offer you, something much better, power.” he was getting desperate, a few more days without sleep and you may have fallen for it.
“Power to what? Give you all the blood in my body so you can commit futile experiments on innocent people. You cannot create force sensitivity nor can you push it on someone who it has not chosen. Join you? No, I'll have to pass. Death and destruction will not be my path.”
“Not yet, but it will be. I see it in you, the pain, the sadness, the loneliness, that will all disappear once you join us.”
“Over my dead body” You say drawing your sabre. A violent clash of red and purple ricochet off the mirrored rock, lighting up the shadowed planets.
“Your grandmother trained you well.” He exclaims.
“ If you knew her then you should know that i'd never turn” You continue the fight. Managing to back him into a rock wall. Holding saber at his throat the light purple hue gleaning in the yellow irises beneath his hood.
“I understand why you ambushed me, not much of a fighter are you.” you snarl, pushing the saber into the robe, the scent of burning fabric filling the air. Then you feel it, the pulse of the fibers interwoven throughout the galaxy, something’s amiss. Something else appears under the glow of you saber, yellowed teeth, smiling under the light. You release him pushing yourself back, he wants you to kill him.
“ Do not fear it, I have seen this moment. It is what begins your reign”
“No” you say aloud to yourself, “No” you repeat turning off the saber and turning to leave.
“If you let me live, I kill the man with you.”
The Mandalorian whose been watching from afar hasn’t heard a word spoken in a while, watching you move towards him he thinks it must be over, whoever this person was, Sith or not, you must have come to an agreement. He almost walks out from his hiding spot when you stop dead in your tracks. He sees you look up, your eyes meeting his but only for a moment, before you pivot back to face the man.
“There’s…” you start.
“Don’t play me for a fool child, I have been playing this game long before you were even a thought in your mothers pretty little head. I know he is here. I know what you feel for him. You kill me and in time you will betray him, but you’d rather that, than lose him altogether.”
There's no thought process, no decision to make. With a flick of your wrist you throw the saber. You watch as it slices through the Siths neck before returning to your hand. You close it as his head tumbles to the ground. If Ashoka's words were a warning this, this was an omen. You had made a choice and now a path of irredeemably evil was laid before you. A path you were not prepared to drag anyone else down.
“I know you're there” you say after composing yourself. “I told you not to follow me.” You say making your way to the Mandalorians hiding spot.
“Are you alright? What did he say to you?” he asks, reaching a hand out for your arm.
“Nothing.” You say dodging him. The less he knew the safer he'd be. You weighed your options in your head on the walk back, but you knew there was only one way to avoid harming anyone. You had to hide away, become anonymous. Fall back into legend, never to be seen again. It was the only way Grogu would be safe, it was the only way Cara would be safe, it was the only way Din would be safe. As the ship takes off you say three words that would change everything.
“Take me home.”
“We're on route to Hoth now,” he says reassuringly.
“No, take me to my home. Grogu is back and safe. Our deal is done. Our alliance is over” You say, eyes plastered to the windshield.
“What did he say to you?” Din stresses, but you don’t answer. Silence was the only way to stop him from convincing you to stay.
“Don’t shut me out” he says slamming his hand on the panel. You don’t flinch, you don’t even look up. “We can figure this out together.” He says softly, if you hadn’t known any better you would have thought he was pleading with you.
“You’ve done enough. Take me home. If you don’t the force will.” He resets the GPS coordinates before standing up and dropping downstairs. Anya muzzles into you as you let out a sigh blinking back the tears you felt forming.
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shhh-no-ones-home · 4 years ago
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care package justin morrow x reader
+++++++++
im back for a bit! i have been writing hellas so i figured id start posting again, at least for a short while. ive been very into pedro pascal and his characters right now though so heads up that might be all i post for a bit lol. i am trying to stagger these so its not all at once but i know that probably wont happen. but until it goes back to normal i hope you guys like these!
prompts:
"Can you please come and get me?"
"Can you tell they're broken?"
"Hey, let me in. I'm outside with your favorite pizza."
Song: im just a kid by simple plan
tag list: @musicsexandpizza69 @svintsandghosts @alilpunkrock @cynic-spirit @theoneandonlykymberlee @joeynihil @thisplace-ishaunted @lifeisabitchandsoareyou @xyours-eternallyx
+++++++++
i sat in the bathroom by myself, holding my hand close to my body. the party outside the door was still raging and i was here freaking out. i didnt know what to do. then it hit me. i reached into my pocket with my other hand and dialed justin, surely he could help. the line rang a few times before i heard his groggy voice.
"hello?"
he asked and i sighed in relief.
"hey im sorry if i woke you up, i know its late, but im at a party and i need you to come pick me up."
i could hear his frustrated grumble, shae talking in the background.
"y/n, i thought we talked about this-"
"no no, i know, but my DD got talked into doing a keg stand and i think i might need to go to the ER."
i said and i heard him gasp lightly.
"the ER? y/n what the hell happened at that party?!"
he asked frantically and i let out a nervous laugh.
"i can explain later, but Can you please come and get me?"
he sighed.
"text me the address."
i smiled at myself in the mirror, wincing in pain as i moved.
"thank you justin, it means a lot. ill see you when you get here."
°°°°°°°°°
i sat outside on the front porch of the house and waited impatiently for justin to show up. my hand was throbbing and the ice katy had given me was almost completely melted. i bounced my leg nervously before hearing his beat up old camry come down the street. i smiled as he pulled up to the curb, standing and walking to the car. he rushed out of it as soon as the engine was off and he came to me with a scared look on his face.
"what happened? are you seriously injured?"
he asked, hands on my shoulders as he tried to look over me for any signs of damage. i let out a nervous laugh before holding my hand out, my middle and ring finger looking rather swollen and mangled.
"Can you tell they're broken?"
i asked nervously and his eyes got very wide.
"why didnt you tell me it was this bad?!"
he asked, pushing me towards the car and opening the door for me.
"i didnt think it was."
i confessed as i got in and he sighed heavily.
"just... try to put your seatbelt on."
he instructed before walking around the car and getting in beside me. he pulled away from the curb quickly and made his way to the hospital.
"how did this even happen?"
he asked, gripping the steering wheel tightly. i could almost see his knuckles go white under the street lamps as we passed them. i shrugged and looked to the road.
"well i was dared to skateboard down the handrail of the stairs..."
i started and he shot me a worried look.
"but dont worry, i told them all no."
he sighed in almost relief, realizing that he was glad i didnt do that but i still end up with broken bones.
"so, since i wouldnt do it, they dared another kid to and he was three sheets to the wind already and gladly agreed."
i said and i could tell he rolled his eyes.
"i guess i just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time though cause i was sitting on the floor in the living room with both hands planted on the ground behind me and when he fell off the skateboard it came at me full force and ran over my fingers."
i said and he groaned.
"of course that would be your luck. havent we been through something like this before?"
he asked and i laughed, nodding.
"yeah, remember that one winter on tour when vinny lost his kick drum petal in transit and the only reason they found it back was because i was unpacking the trailer and it landed on my foot."
he nodded, loosening his grip on the wheel.
"okay, yeah, i remember now. you had three broken bones and had to get stitches."
he said and i nodded.
"yeah."
he shook his head as he pulled into the parking lot of the er.
"come on, lets get you checked in."
°°°°°°°°°
a few days later when i was finally weaning off the pain medications they had given me i was coherent enough to think of a thank you for justin. after all, he did put up with my shit more than anyone else and i was glad to call him friend. i got everything ready and made my way to his place, reinforcements sitting in the passenger seat next to me. when i got to his house i knocked on the door but no answer. i just rolled my eyes, i knew he was home, so i called him.
"yeah?"
he asked. i could tell he was preoccupied and made a face as i stood outside his door.
"Hey, let me in."
i instructed and there was a pause.
"let you in?"
he asked and i shifted my weight, tucking the phone between my cheek and my shoulder.
"yeah, I'm outside with your favorite pizza."
i said and the line went dead. a second later the door was swung open and he had a very excited look on his face.
"to what do i owe the pleasure?"
he asked and i laughed, handing him the stack of two boxes so i could pick the grocery bag up.
"i wanted to thank you guys."
i said, following him into the Livingroom, waving to shae sat on the couch in her pajamas.
"you took care of me, i take care of you."
i said, handing each of them a drink that i had brought as he opened the two boxes.
"you didnt have to do that."
he said and i shrugged, popping my soda open.
"i know, but i wanted to. now dig in before it gets any colder."
i said and he laughed, cheersing our two slices against one another.
"cant argue with that."
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thegreatestofheck · 5 years ago
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Nothing to Prove ✦Pope Heyward✦
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(gif not mine! All credit to maequil!)
Word Count - 2196 Warnings - Nothing. Fluff. A smidgen of swearing, underage drinking Synopsis - Pope helps you with some relationship problems. Later, while hanging out with your boyfriend, you realize that running from your fears got you nowhere and the only place you wanted to be was with Pope. Tagging - @o-b-x​ A/N - This man is so beautiful and deserves so much more hype I love him and Pope so much. This is mostly fluff, with a smidgen of angst in there (what’s a fic without angst, i dont even know). Sorry if it’s bad, lol. Stay safe, stay healthy, stay groovy!
The music blasted through the warehouse, echoing off the concrete walls. You bounced around to the beat, throwing your arms in the air and silently singing along with the lyrics. You stopped your jumping to play your air guitar during the guitar solo. 
You spun around, holding a cucumber as a microphone. Your eyes snapped open at the sound of a cough. 
Standing in the doorway was your boss and his son, your best friend, Pope. 
“Mr. Heyward,” you said, dropping your hand and hiding the cucumber behind your back. “Hi.”
You tried to smile, but your face burned with embarrassment. Heyward stood there with his arms crossed, an eyebrow raised, and just the barest of a smile on his lips. Pope was hiding laughter behind his hand. You were tempted to throw your cucumber at him. 
“You know I love your air concerts as much as anyone else,” Heyward said, uncrossing his arms. “But I really need the stock inventoried.” 
“Yes, of course Mr. Heyward. Sorry.” You slid the cucumber back into its box. 
“Don’t stress about it, Kiddo.” Heyward walked past you, dropping a hand on your shoulder. “Just get it done.” 
“Yes, sir.” 
As soon as Heyward was gone from the warehouse, you dropped your head to your chest, hands covering your face. Pope finally let his laugh out and it echoed through the warehouse almost to the beat of the music. He pushed himself off the wall and walked over to you. 
“That was really embarrassing,” he said. You looked up at him, face still beat red. 
“Tell me about it.” 
The two of you let yourselves laugh it out. Once you could finally breathe again, wiping away a tear, you met Pope’s eyes again. 
“Let me help you with this,” he said. You shook your head, crossing your arms. 
“No, Pope. It’s your day off. You don’t have to stay here and help me,” you said, turning to you clipboard. 
“Well, I’m going to anyway.” 
You rolled your eyes, but a smile played at your lips. 
“I don’t know why your dad thinks you listen to me.” 
Pope didn’t say anything, he just got to work. You spent the next few hours inventorying together, telling joke and laughing about silly, stupid things, like you always did together. 
You had been working for Heyward since you were 13 and had been friends with Pope every since. He was the one who introduced you to the Pogues who eventually became your best friends. But Pope was your rock, your solid ground. He was your voice of reason, your impulse control. When things were falling apart around you, he was the glue that kept you together. 
When your shift was finally over and the new shipment inventoried, you and Pope grabbed some lemonade his mom made and sat on the deck together, letting the sun warm your skin. 
“So,” he said, taking a drink. “Why were crying in the bathroom this morning?” 
You choked, lemonade dribbling down your chin. 
“Cry- I wasn’t crying in the bathroom,” you said and rolled your eyes. 
“Oh, so we have a ghost now?”
“No! No, I was just...” You took a long sip. “There was something in my eye.”
“You don’t have to lie to me, Y/N,” Pope said as he set his empty glass on the dock. You ran your toes over the water with a sigh. “I know you like to pretend that nothing gets to you, and that may fly at your house, but not here. C’mon, Y/N, you can tell me anything.” 
He bumped your shoulder with his and you tried to smile. Looking up, you squinted against the glare of the sun. 
“Elo wants me to sleep with him,” you said with a sigh. “But I’m not...that’s not something I’m ready for yet.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah.”
You had been with your boyfriend, Elo, for only a few months. It wasn’t really anything serious. You went surfing together, went out to eat, star gazed. But you never really talked all that much. You liked him and he liked you and the feeling you had when you were with him wasn’t something you wanted to lose. 
You let out a deep sigh and hung your head again. 
“I just don’t know what to do.”
Pope put a hand on your shoulder and you glanced over at him. 
“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to,” he told you. 
“I know that,” you leaned back, resting on your elbows, letting the sunlight rest against your stomach. “I know it in my head, but I’m afraid that if I don’t show him that I care he’ll...find someone else.”
“Y/N, you don’t have to prove anything to him,” Pope told you, turning to look you in the eyes. “If he doesn’t want you because you won’t have sex with them then he’s not worth your time.” 
Warmth spread through you, but you weren’t sure if it was from the sun or from that feeling you always got when Pope was around. 
“I guess so.”
“Hey, next time he asks. You put your foot down, alright?” Pope said. “Don’t let him push you around.”
“Alright, Poe.”
“Promise?” He held out his pinky. When you asked with your eyes if he was really going to make you pinky swear, he nodded at his little finger. With an eye roll and an overly dramatic sigh, you hooked your pinky around his and shook. 
“Promise.” 
***
The time came a lot sooner than you thought. You hung out with Elo again that night, nursing on a beer as he and his friends kicked a soccer ball back and forth between each other. Eventually, he came over to you and flopped down at your hip, his usual loose grin on his lips. 
“Hey,” he said. 
“Hi.” You leaned down and kissed him, but, for the first time since you started dating, you didn’t feel anything. There was someone else on your mind. 
“What are you thinking about?” He asked. You shrugged your shoulders.
“Just a long day at work.”
“That Pope guy giving you problems?”
“Pope is my best friend, Elo. He does the opposite of give me problems.” 
Elo rolled his eyes and took a drink from you beer. 
“I don’t think you should hang out with him,” he said as he put your bottle back in your hand. 
You reacted, pinching your eyebrows together. 
“Why?”
Elo rolled onto his side facing you, running a finger along your collarbone. You smacked his hand away and he scowled. 
“Because,” he huffed. “I’m your boyfriend and it makes me uncomfortable.” 
“I’m not ditching Pope just because it wounds your ego, Elo,” you said, pushing yourself to your feet. 
“Y/N, wait!” He followed after you as you walked toward his house. “Wait.” 
You didn’t really want to listen to what he had to say. You wanted to go home or, more accurately, you wanted to find Pope. But Elo followed you anyway, grabbing you by the wrist. 
“I’m sorry,” he said. “Hey, I’m sorry. Forget I said anything.” 
“Elo, I want to-” 
Before you could say what you wanted to say, he pulled you toward him and pressed a kiss against your mouth. You scowled and pushed at his chest until he stepped away. 
“What the hell is your problem tonight?” He asked, glaring. 
“You! You’re my problem!” 
“It’s that Pope kid, isn’t it? He’s poisoned you against me?” 
“What? No!” You ran your hand through your hair. “This is about you showing me the respect that I deserve.” 
“When have I ever disrespected you?”
“Oh, I don’t know, every single time you’ve tried to force me to have sex with you. That feels pretty damn disrespectful to me.”
“Babe, c’mon. What do you expect from me? I have my needs-”
“Yeah? That’s what you think?”
“I mean, you can’t be upset if I’ve slept with other girls because you haven’t put the tiniest bit of effort into our relationship! You haven’t proven to me that you actually care.” 
Tears stung in your eyes. You didn’t know he had slept with other girls. You thought maybe he might have, but you never had it confirmed. It didn’t matter now. You didn’t care. 
“I have nothing to prove to you,” you seethed. “We’re done, Elo. Forever.”
“Babe, don’t say that.” He stepped forward and lifted a hand toward your face, but you stepped back, nose scrunched to keep the tears in your eyes. “Babe.”
“Next time you have a girlfriend,” you said, taking a few more steps backward. “Give them the respect they deserve, Elo. Or you’ll end up in this same position.”
You turned and started to walk toward your car. 
“Yeah, run away, Y/N!” He yelled after you. “Like you always do! Run back to your boy toy and push everyone else away, see where that gets you!” 
You forced the tears down until you were alone in your car, driving away. You could go home, but you told your mom you would be out all night. You didn’t want to have to explain. 
You sent a quick text to Pope, asking him to meet you at your usual spot. 
The waves were cold on your toes as you sat in the sand. You and Pope found this little alcove when making deliveries when you were fourteen. It was the place you both went to when you needed space from everyone else except each other. It was a shelter against the storm. The other Pogues knew about it, but they knew not to violate the sacred grounds. 
When Pope dropped into the sand beside you, you felt a chill run up your spine.
“It’s cold tonight,” he said, his voice a welcome sound. You nodded your head slowly, knees pulled up to your chest. “You okay?”
You looked up at him and gave a small smile. 
“Yeah,” you said. “Yeah, I’m okay. Elo and I weren’t going to last very long anyway.”
“I’m sorry it ended, though. I know you liked him,” Pope said, putting a hand over yours. Another wave of warmth washed over you. This time you knew why. 
“Pope, can I tell you something?” You asked. 
“Sure.”
“Promise not to think I’m crazy?”
“I already think you’re crazy.”
“Promise not to hate me then.”
“I could never hate you,” he said, his voice quieting. You let out a sigh and drew a little circle in the sand. 
“What if I said that there’s another guy that I like,” you said, slowly. You heard Pope sigh. 
“Already?”
“More like...still. I’ve liked him for a really long time, but I guess I was afraid of ruining what we already had,” you said. “What do you think I should do?”
You could see the gears in Pope’s mind turning. You begged him to understand silently so you didn’t have to say it out loud. When he let out a deep breath, you were pretty sure he knew what you were talking about.
“I think that if he’s someone you’ve known for a while, there’s no way he doesn’t feel the same way.” You felt your heart soar. “What would you do if he liked you too?”
Your heart pounded, not really noticing that the two of you were leaning closer together. 
“I would tell him that if he didn’t kiss me, I might have to change my mind.” 
Your words were breathless, whispering because he was right there, right next to you. Once his lips finally touched yours, you knew it was right. That feeling you had been running from yet simultaneously searching for was right here, with him. 
It didn’t matter how cold it was outside, because with his lips on yours, his hand on your cheek, you could feel nothing but warmth. He was like the sun, radiating heat and you were soaking him in. 
And when he pulled away, the warmth didn’t fade. It wasn’t like all the other times with all the other boys where, as soon as you were gone from them, you felt nothing. You knew this feeling would last. 
He didn’t try to kiss you again as you laid your head against his shoulder, the two of you looking out across the water. The moon and the stars sparkled over the ocean, shimmering like a thousand crystals. 
“My mom is going to be so excited,” Pope said, one of his hands still on top of yours. 
“Why?” You asked, glancing up at him. 
“She’s been asking me when we were going to get together for over a year now.”
You laughed, looking back to the ocean. 
“My mom has been the same way.” 
“Why’d it take us so long then?”
“I was the coward who ran away and you were the coward who wouldn’t follow me.” 
“Oh, jee, thanks.” 
You didn’t say anything else, but neither did he. And it was okay. You could just sit there with one of his arms around you and just...be. 
And you had nothing to prove with him. You didn’t have to be anyone else but yourself. That was all you needed. 
142 notes · View notes
ivyuns · 5 years ago
Text
after hours ❆ ✰
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han jisung
genre: angst and fluff
word count: 1.6k
warnings: language + self harm
A/N: since you guys asked for it, heres part two of moral of the story (: repost
listen to after hours by the weeknd
part one | part two
masterlist
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thought i almost died in my dream again.
right after you left changbin’s embrace to hop onto your plane back to korea, he was furious. he didnt even knew jisung was cheating on you. as a cousin, he went to yell at your ex lover.
“han fucking jisung.” changbin muttered out. the younger one lifted his eyes and saw his hyung. quickly wiping his tears and waits for changbin to continue speaking. “did i just witnessed y/n catching you cheating on her? are you serious jisung? after everything she done for you, for us, and you did this in return!?” changbin ran his fingers through his hair and let out a heavy sigh.
“i wont hurt you or anything, just at least talk to y/n and fix some things alright?” jisung immediately nodded as changbin left the room. jisung got up and changed into a casual outfit and met up with his manager to talk about some things.
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without you, don't wanna sleep. cause my heart belongs to you.
after meeting up with his manager and convincing to continue the tour without him, he finally agreed. jisung dashes through the hallway, into his hotel room and gathers his stuff and gets his belongings then heads to the airport.
handing in his ticket and sitting in his seat in the plane, he pulls our your promise ring that you threw at him a few hours ago and remembers your pained face the moment you saw him cheat on you. the way the tears fell onto your cheeks. the way you wanted to hold back your tears but couldnt. jisung kicks the seat in front of him and starts bawling his eyes out, earning a groan from the elder who he kicked, immediately starting to apologize to the boomer.
wanting to fall asleep so time can pass by, only to have nightmares of you, taking your own life of his yet another stupid mistake. forcing himself to stay awake by looking back at all the memories you two shared.
baby where are you now when I need you most? i'd give it all just to hold you close.
after the plane has landed, he made his way out of the gate and hailed a cab and gave the driver the address of your apartment. few minutes pass by and jisung looks up and sees his destination. thanking the driver and giving them money and tip, he gets his stuff and unlocks your door. everything looked normal. you had to be here. quickly going to each room to see where you were, you were unseen.
memories start flooding in his mind and sees the first fight you two had. seeing your pale body on the bathroom floor. bunch of tubes connected to your body to regain the nutrients needed. he ran his hands through his hair and yelled, not caring about the neighbors. he needed to find you before his nightmare in the plane could actually happen.
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i know it's all my fault, made you put down your guard.
he ran to the dorm, thankful you decided to live a few blocks away from them. taking out his keys to unlock the door and smells a familiar scent, knowing you came here recently. he goes to his room to see a box on his bed and the pictures hung up of you two hidden in his drawer.
seeing the note placed on the box made him feel even more worse. he let out another scream and pulled out his phone, seeing if you still share your location with him.
entering the passcode for his phone and opening his friends locator app. he searches for your name only to find only you can see his location. he threw his phone on the bed and fell on the ground. not knowing where you could be. who knows if youre in the streets all alone.
knowing if youre upsetting at something, jisung always knew you wouldnt have the appetite to eat and ruin your healthy life. even if you came back to korea a few hours ago, your body could make you sick, especially since you didnt eat anything before you left for japan.
i know i made you fall, they said you were wrong for me
remembering how you acted towards him after telling stays about your relationship with him made him guilty. he knew how insecure you felt since the beginning of high school. after the mean comments stays made about you, you felt everyone was coming at you and that you didnt deserve jisung.
until jisung stepped in and defended you. he brought in the light when you fell into the darkest time. even til before he cheated on you, whenever you would fall into a dark time, he would be your knight in shining armor and bring you back to light.
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i lied to you, i lied to you, i lied to you. Can't hide the truth, I stayed with her in spite of you.
he knew he shouldnt had cheated on you. but something that jiseo gave him made him fall harder for her and started cheating behind your back. the times he cancelled the dates and plans was only to hang out with jiseo. with the excuses he used was just he needed to practice more or make a new song. all the lies he said to you. all the unsaid i love you.
you did some things that you regret, still ride for you. cause this house is not a home.
currently on the bridge you were sitting at, with the han river under your dangling legs and with park near the bridge, where you two met when you were a little kid. with a blade in your hand, you rolled up your over-sized button up flannel to reveal a fresh canvas to place the scars. each memory and tear that fell, you would cut into your flesh. you promised yourself you would never cut youself or try to harm you, but you felt weak and nobody was there to help.
jisung, who was running around trying to look at the places you would always go to relieve some stress or just for fun. remembering you would always go to the park next to the han river always made you feel so calm since it was the place you and him landed eyes on each other. running to the park, only to find nobody. looking up afar, he sees a figure. a very familiar figure. noticing the same flannel you would always wear.
making his way to the bridge, he hears the sobs which pains him. going up to you, he sees blood coming out of your fore arm. widening his eyes as he approaches you, he takes the blade and throws it in the river and hugs your trembling body.
“its okay y/n” he tries to make you calm. slowly sinking into the hug, relaxing. you then remember what happened. with your shaking body, you push jisung back to where he isnt hugging you anymore and falls on his side. “how can you say that as i caught you cheating on me?!” you yelled out, which you shouldnt have, making you see more than one jisung.
“y/n, let me explain!” due to lots of blood loss, you fainted. having jisung to press on your wounds and take you to the hospital. “please y/n, not again. please i cant lose you again.”
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jisung waited in the waiting room with his elbows on his knees and bloody hands on his hand. as the doctor was walking towards him with papers in his hands, he stood up. “ah so jisung. y/n is fine but due to the lost of blood she lost which was almost half a gallon, she will be having blood transmitting to her body. you can go to her room now” jisung thanks the doctor as he pats jisungs back.
walking to your room, only to see you looking at the window. jisung grabs a chair and places it next to your bed. jisung grabs your hand and starts speaking.
“im sorry y/n. i-i shouldnt have cheated on you. if i didnt, we wouldnt have to be in this situation. i dont know why i did it in the first place but after seeing you hurt, it just made me feel so guilty. i didnt return you the love you gave me and seeing your pained face, i just felt my heart shatter. and after having to keep stray kids continuing their tour without me and coming back here to talk to you. just because i love you and i dont know what life ill be doing without you.”
you turn your head to see jisungs face full of regret of what he did in the hotel room. you smiled after hearing ‘i love you’ after months. “i love you too jisung”. he lifts up his head and sees you smile. he gets up and hugs you. “if you do this again jisung, i wont hesitate and break up with you.” and kiss jisung on his lips. he sits back down and grabs your left hand. “i believe you need to put this on again, sunshine.” and slides in the promise ring you threw at him.
and finally, he goes on his knees and pulls out the small black velvet box you found earlier. without jisung even asking, you immediately say yes. “baby i didnt even ask you” jisung laughs.
“i dont care, yes is my answer.”
jisung smiles and puts the engagement ring on your ring finger.
“thank you for this second chance baby”
sorry that i broke your heart, your heart. and I said, baby, i’ll treat you better than i did before, i'll hold you down and not let you go, this time i won't break your heart, your heart, no.
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END <3
a repost since first try didnt show up in the tags but ty for reading
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theravencawsatmidnight · 5 years ago
Text
Ice Box. Chapter One.
Part Three.
Ending!❄️
A/N. The ending!!! My first Yandere and im so happy with it!!! I honestly planned on it being a one off but people liked it and it made me want to continue. Thank you for reading !!! * (all posts can be found under the Icebox tag!)
Warnings: violence
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Shoto left you after giving you his...love mark. Youre arm was throbbing and youre lip was bleeding from you biting it . You curled up against the wall with youre knees up thinking. Have to get out , have to get ...out- The AC turned back on and you got an idea. You slipped a hand under youre knees and made sure youre back was to the door. You sat there , flicking ice cubes into a pile with youre free hand.
Shoto was out and about on this bright happy sunny day. Doing his Hero work ofcourse . He skipped his meet and greet yesterday but he could come up with an excuse if someone asked him about it. Whenever another Hero stopped to talk to him he put on a happy face and lied through his teeth, they believed him ofcourse. This was Shoto, the Pro Hero. He did no wrong in the other Pros eyes. He stopped by the park to talk to some fans who were gushing over him asking for a picture and questioning him about yesterday.
“You never showed up!”
“ yeah and we wore our best clothes!”
He simply laughed and flashed them a innocent smile and spoke softly. “Something came up on my end. Im deeply sorry.” He pat their heads and the two girls squealed running off. He waved watching them run off till he spotted a tall figure looking at him. He had on all black and his hair was all over his face. Shoto growled under his breath and went over smiling.
“Long time no see Sensei!” Shoto said
“Yes i know. Ive got a question for you. One of my students is big fan of you. She left yesterday to go to youre meet and greet and never returned to UA. She still had her uniform on have you seen her?”
Shoto stepped back , his shoulders tensing up. He rubbed the back of his head putting on a worried tone. “No i actually could not make it to the meet and greet, something came up for me. Are .. are they missing?”
“Yes, ive notified their parents already . You sure you did not see anyone?” He seemed unsure of the answer Shoto gave him. Skipped his meet and greet... Y/N not coming home.
“Im sure.. man .. thats awful i hope they are found..” beep beep. Shoto pulled his phone out and Aizawa saw a smirk crawl up his face. “Listen ive gotta go, but ill keep my eyes open for them.” He waved taking off and Aizawa waited a few minutes before following the Hero.
Shoto made his way to a old abandon meat house going inside. It was a big storage building just for meet. Basically a giant cooler. He checked behind him a couple times and closed the door . Shoto went to the right and saw an old cooler, he opened the door going down steps and opened a second door to see you curled up by the wall, flicking ice cubes to a pile of frozen together ice cubes. You flinched when the door opened but you did not look. You knew who it was.
“Hello my little snowflake, im back i missed you! Did my love mark heal? Can you show me ?” He asked walking over and kneeling down next to you pushing youre singed sleeve up. ‘Healed’ was not the right word... more like frozen and very.. very red. Shoto hugged you kissing youre fore head. “Its perfect , just like you.”
You turned youre head to him. Youre face had a deep purple flush to it, youre eye lids heavy and youre lip had dried blood on it. Shoto smiled placing his hand on youre cheek warming up youre face till the purple went away. “There we go. What are you doing? Playing a game?” He gestured to the ice cube pile that was within reach of you.
“Improving my quirk.” You said honestly
Shoto’s face lit up. “You are! Look at them!! Different sizes all stuck together im so proud of you!!!”
“Me too”
“Oh snowflake im so happy , see? I told you this room would help you!!!! , can.. can i have a celebration kiss? Im just so proud of you. Our children will be amazing!!!”
“Ofcourse Shoto.”
You leaned into him and Shoto wrapped his arms around you locking his lips with youres, he hugged you while you kissed, leaning into you trying to get you on youre back. You slid youre hand back leaning on the wall with youre back to it letting him between youre legs. Shoto got between them kissing you again lifting youre top slightly.
“Shoto...” you pulled away kissing again.
“Yes ? Yes my perfect snowflake?” He said between breaths.
“Burn in Hell.” You pulled away gripping the ice cube spear you had been working on forming and shoved it right in his right eye . It slid right in . For hours you had been working on changing the form of youre ice cubes.. youre body was frozen on the inside but .. you did it. It was just like the icicle spear he held to youre neck but thicker.
Shoto yelled falling back and you jumped up grabbing the ice cube pile running to the door. You didint care if you stumbled, didint care if you fell face first on the floor smashing youre face. You had to get out. You stumbled to youre feet , Shoto’s cries filled the room and you felt heat hit youre back. You raised the ice cube pile slamming it on the doorknob smashing it to pieces. The pile smashed and you fumbled up the stairs breathing very heavily. As soon as you got to the door it opened and you fell into Aizawa.
“Oof!!!! Y/N?!?!?!” He grabbed you standing up and you saw Deku with him. He handed you to Deku and ran down the stairs . Deku held you close asking if you were okay and telling you that everything was okay now. He ran out of the building and immedietly you cried when the very hot sunny air hit you. The police were waiting outside and one of them wrapped you in a blanket.
Aizawa emerged with Shoto in his weopon and the ice cube still in his eye, his face was a bloody red mess and he was twitching. The police took Shoto away and Aizawa went to you. Deku had put you in the ambulance and was sitting by you. He jumped in closing the doors and the ambulance took off.
It only took an hour for word to get out on what happened. You refused to talk to anyone but Aizawa, he never left youre side. You were completely frozen on the inside it felt like . The nurses cranked the heat for you and brought in multiple heaters. The mark Shoto gave you was infected and you were given heavy medications for it and a visit from Recovery Girl.
When the police questioned you it was very onee sided. “Would Shoto really do this? Hes a Pro Hero.”
You glared at them and showed them youre arm. “If you dont believe me get out. If this on my arm is not enough to convince you then i dont know what to tell you”
Aizawa made the police leave and sat down by you, bringing a heater closer.
••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
BONUS PREVIEW FOR INFERNO. 🔥
The reportor on the little tv was outside the meat house explaining the events . “Shoto, our beloved Pro Hero was keeping a fan here against their will and freezing them alive. We believe-“ the tv clicked off and the man got up stretching .
“Oh Shoto.. you slipped up. I wish you luck in Tartarus. “ a blue flame formed on his hand and he brought it up to his face grinning. “My turn~”
•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
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mermaidxatxheart · 5 years ago
Text
Saved
This one is pure nonsense. I didn’t explain anything at all. I just started writing and here it was. I needed some fluff and this spewed forth. I’m so sorry. This is a mess. But cute, I hope. 
Pairing: Bucky X Reader
Word Count: 1793
Warnings: Abuse, fluff, terrible plot execution, swearing
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You watch the rain splatter against the window pane, hoping that the thunder doesn’t wake your father up. The door won’t unlock for another ten minutes. 
 Just ten minutes.
Your palms tingle with nervousness. Your heart skips a beat every time lightning flashes. Thunder booms are quick to follow. And while you love storms like this, this one in particular couldn’t be happening at a worse time. 
 You tuck your knees up to your chest as you perch on the window seat, counting the seconds in your head. Lightning flashes across the sky, lighting up the dark room with false daylight and your pulse stops completely, the entire apartment seeming to hold its breath. The loudest thunder cracks, rattling the old windows and you very nearly whimper.
 You hear him groan in the bedroom, bed creaking as he shifts. He mumbles something and then you hear the sound of a bottle breaking as it hits the floor. 
 Just three minutes.
 Please.
 Just stay asleep for three more minutes. 
 The floor creaks as he gets up and you look at the complicated lock on the front door. You’re not gonna make it. You look back out the window, hoping that if you remain very still, he won’t notice you in his drunken stupor.
 You try to make yourself as small as possible as the door creaks open, keeping your face turned towards the glass, tears spilling over and down your cheeks. 
 You don’t dare move to wipe them away as he lumbers by, his heavy feet shuffling on the bare wooden floors. You press your lips together to silence any noise. He picks up the broom and turns to shuffle back. You squeeze your eyes shut, hardly daring to breathe.
 He cracks the wooden handle across your shins and you cry out as it stings and burns. “Clean it up.” He snarls like it’s your fault. 
 You take the broom, your hands shaking as you move cautiously towards his bedroom.
 “Get a move on!” He barks, his hand striking the back of your head. You stumble forward, trying not to fall to your knees. You hurry forward and sweep up the broken bottle pieces, collecting them to throw them away. 
 You glance at the clock on his nightstand and realize there’s only one minute left.
 One minute until you’re free.
 You scurry into the kitchen and get him another drink. You take it back to him, setting it on the nightstand and backing away. He picks it up and takes a sip before turning back to you, his eyes narrowing. 
 “Why are you still here, you ungrateful wench?” He growls, his free hand balling into a fist. 
 Before you can answer or leave, he swings, his fist crunching against your cheek and jaw. You crash back against the floor, your hand jarring up into your arm and you cry out, scooting back. He turns away, setting the glass down. You inch your way out of the door, cradling your wrist against your chest.
 You pull his door shut and rush out the now unlocked front door. You stumble down the steps of the apartment and out into the rain. Your chest feels like it’s caving in and you can’t breathe. You gasp for air, making your way down the street.
 You need to find your boyfriend. He won’t be home from work just yet, but his mom will. You manage to find his building and struggle to climb the stairs. You pause outside, imagining how you must look. Your cheek is bleeding from his wedding ring, you look like a drowned rat from the rain. 
 You take a painful deep breath and lift your hand to knock on the door. It opens before you even have a chance to touch it and Bucky’s mom is on the other side of the door. 
 Her face is full of worry as she pulls you into her arms, squeezing you tight.
 “You’re late today.” She murmurs, stepping back and cupping your cheeks. “Oh, honey. Come inside.” She ushers, pulling you inside. She guides you into the bathroom and gets out her first aid kit. 
 Bucky
 I run up the stairs to my apartment, taking them two at a time. My heart is hammering in my chest and my hands are shaking. 
 I shove open the door, but the living room is empty. “Mom?” I call. 
 She comes out of the kitchen, drying her hands. “She’s in your bed. Sleeping. If you’re still planning on going through with it, it’s going to have to wait until tomorrow, sweetheart.”
 “Is she okay?” I ask, fearing the answer. A day is going to come when your father won’t let you out, or he hurts you too badly for you to leave the apartment. 
 “A little banged up, but otherwise yes.” 
 I turn and head for my bedroom, shutting the door silently and resting my head against it for a minute. 
 “Bucky?” You mumble behind me and I turn around, forcing a smile.
 “Hey, doll.” I say, moving over to the bed. 
 You scoot over on the bed, being careful of your wrist. “How was work?” You ask.
 I kick off my boots and peel off my wet shirt. I don’t miss how your eyes watch my every move and it makes my heart race and my skin tingle.
 “It was awful.” I sigh, climbing onto the bed and lying next to you. I pull you against me and your arm rests in the center of my chest. I wrap my arms around you, sighing with content. I had been so worried all night, and all day, wondering if you were okay. 
 “Why? What happened?” You ask, picking your head up off my shoulder and looking at me.
 “You weren’t there. I had to suffer hours and hours of being away from you. I didn’t like it.” I say and you blink for a minute before snorting.
 “You’re dumb.” You roll your eyes and lay your head back down. 
 “But you love me.” I remind you.
 “But I love you.” You agree. 
 “Did he hurt you?” I ask, brushing hair back from your cheek. Your hair is dry, you’ve clearly been here for a while.
 “Not too much. Just my wrist, but your neighbor fixed me right up.”
 I trace the small cut on your cheek, my heart breaking and my blood boiling. “I’m so sorry, doll.” I say and you capture my hand, kissing it gently.
 “I love you, Bucky.” You say softly.
 “I love you, too.” I hesitate for a moment and you tap my chest with your finger.
 “What are you thinking?”
 “How do you always know?” I grin.
 “I can smell the smoke.” You reply without missing a beat and I laugh.
 “Well, rude. I was thinking I don’t want you to go back there, not ever. We both know your home is really here with us. There’s no point in you going back there.”
 You sit up as much as you can and look at me. “What are you saying?” You ask.
 I dig into my pocket and pull out a small box. I place it carefully in your hand, watching your face. You open the ring box and look from the diamond to me, back to the diamond, back to me.
 “I don’t understand.” You say finally and I roll my eyes.
 “Yes, you do. I love you, I’m going to spend the rest of my life with you whether you know about it or not, so I figure you might as well be in on it.” I say, fighting the grin as you laugh.
 “So my options are to marry you or be stalked by you?”
 “Basically.”
 “Can I request both?” You smirk and I pull you down to me, kissing you fiercely.
 “Definitely.”
 “Oh good.”
 “So, I have a confession.” I start and you look down at me, holding out your hand as I place the ring on your finger.
 “I’m listening.”
 “I knew you were gonna say yes, so I applied for a marriage license a while ago.” I tell you and your beautiful eyes get wide.
 “You did?”
 “Yeah. And it’s been approved.”
 “Okay, what does that mean?” You tilt your head.
 “I think we should go to the Justice of the Peace tomorrow and get married. That way you don’t ever have to worry about him again.”
 “Bucky,” You sigh. “It’s not that simple.”
 “Sure it is. My mom and Steve will be our witnesses, you and I and the judge sign the documents and boom, we’re married.”
 “Doesn’t my father have to sign something?”
 “Only if you’re under 18, which neither of us are. You’re perfectly legal to do this by yourself. And besides, if he does, Steve can forge his signature. He’s getting pretty good.” I say and you swat my chest, but there isn’t much force behind it.
 “You shouldn’t encourage that.”
 “Baby, please? I don’t want to have to go through another night wondering if he’s broken your leg and you can’t get to me. Or if he never lets that door unlock and he keeps you there where I can’t get to you. It’s torture watching you walk away from me.”
 You lean down and kisses me softly, your lips delicate and warm. “Okay. Tomorrow.” You agree and I pull you to me with a grin. 
 You settle back into my arms, head resting on my chest.
 ***
 “Alright, just sign here.” The judge points to the lines and we all sign, couple and witnesses. “You may kiss your bride.” He says finally and I pull you to me, tilting your chin up. Your eyes are sparkling as you smile, rising up on your tiptoes and kissing me. 
 ***
 “Okay, Mrs. Barnes. Open your eyes.” I say, stopping you in front of a building. 
 You uncover your eyes and stop dead. “You can’t be serious.” You turn to look at me, jaw dropping.
 I hold out the key to the front door and place it in your palm. “Welcome home, my beautiful bride.” I smile.
 You throw your arms around my neck, kissing me hungrily. “How?”
 “I’ve been saving for so long, we hardly owe anything now. And we’re safe here. I’ll always protect you.” I scoop you up and carry you up the front porch. You unlock the front door and we step inside over the threshold.
 “It’s beautiful.” You smile, your fingers curling in my hair.
 “Now, I vote that we christen every single room.” I grin, setting you down gently.
 “I don’t object.” You smirk, unbuttoning your jacket.
 “Oh, you tease.” I growl. 
 You laugh, eyes crinkling in the corners and I could watch you forever and never get bored. 
 My girl.
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