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#like no i’m not going to be the one to break the silence
lavienvante · 2 days ago
invisible string  ಌ   jjk  ╱  𝐈.
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ಌ       summary: a decade wasn’t enough to rid you of the pesky, silly and not so little crush you harbored for jeon jungkook during your miserable teenage years. even now, when he’s a totally different person from the geek you used to know.
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ಌ       back to the series masterlist.
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𝐈.   it’s still not over for me.
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ಌ       pairing: jjk x reader (f). ಌ       genre: childhood friends to lovers |  high school reunion au  |  angst + fluff. ಌ       rating: pg-16. ಌ       word count: 2,6k. ಌ       content warning(s): swearing/heavy language (a lot!!), angst & co., mentions of unrequited love, brief mentions of bullying, themes of jealousy, passive aggressive text messages, slight depictions of a cold/fever, just a whole lot of miscommunication as a plot & that’s all for now!
ಌ       author’s note: it’s here! and it’s much shorter than i anticipated for a first chapter, but within good reason: it’s very plot heavy and i wanted to save up the next few scenes for the second chapter. plus, nothing like building a little mystery, eh? ;) i want to thank you all for being so so patient, so loving & so warm towards me. bonus mentions to @lavienjin​ for their endless support & @gothbabejk​ for hyping me up! i love you guys. (and again, i’m very sorry for the short first chapter). enjoy!
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ಌ       taglist: @fangirl125reader​ @helenazbmrskai​ @babyrosieareroses​ @blue-jade @vantezza @diorejeon​​ @akshstudios​ @queenmasterxx @ggukkieland @daggersandicedcoffee @kookxin @illegurlbangtan​ @supernoonanyc @pinkbubblegumuniverse @bloopkook @bbangtanlove95 @kirbykook  @haeilove @moonchild1 @bbtsficrecs @siadreams @namjeonii @crmyclit @suzysuee @jimilter @girlontheblock @ruruvia @heyitsjesc @stinkyeren @nayaty @taehyungseggs​ @bonobonoyaaaahh​ @hautae​ @shreyuuu​ @captainsjoongs​ @nochuel​ @namkook713 ​ @mageprincess7​ @itsbuffsanta​ @koorosie​ @claricedelune​ @fan-ati–c​
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-- summer of 2009. --
The foundations of your heart are as rocky as the tiles of the rooftop which holds the weight of your bodies leaning against one another. The midnight breeze hasn’t been gentle in these first few days of summer’s end, not in the way you expected it to.
Hours of sleeplessness began to catch onto you, clinging onto Jungkook’s body for more support. He’s as solid as a stone, holding his gaze to the purple dawn sky awaiting the sunrise. You can’t remember which one of you had the stupid idea to climb onto the roof to watch the first hours of the morning, but it’s not as weird as you thought it’d be.
It’s tempting to close your eyes right as the sun threatens to cross the horizon, reminding you of the last few days of summer, your last high school year and your only one best friend.
“Can I ask you something?” Jungkook’s voice shoots through you, nearly causing you to jolt awake. His arm is still wrapped around your waist, holding you in place. You’re not sure what’s more troubling: the fact Jungkook seems shy around you, or the fact you nearly fell off his roof.
“If you’re asking me if I was asleep, no. I definitely wasn’t,” you flash him a small smirk.
He chuckles, laughing off the tension for a second. But with each micromovement of his features, from the way he frowns just slightly and looks down at the ground with an ounce of hesitation, you know this memory will be imprinted in the back of your mind forever, playing on a loop soon as you leave town for college and eventually, words turn into empty promises and friendships melt into the past, as blurry as a decaying polaroid picture.
His silence lasts a little bit longer than he intended, but the words just fall out of him, so sheepishly that you’re reminded this is the same person who believed in the tooth fairy at twelve years old.
“Can we be best friends forever?”
“What’s with all of this, Jay Kay?” You gulp down the fear that something’s going to go horribly wrong after this summer, and the thought of breaking his heart with the shattering of a single promise terrifies you to pieces. “What’s wrong?”
“Can you promise me that? Like, for real? Us losers have to stick together,” Jungkook’s sad smile lasts for a brief second, like he’s trying not to make it too much of a big deal. His mouth parts, lower lip shivering just slightly.
Even when the golden sunlight rises and slightly, delicately casts shadows across the lines of his face, you want to curse him for his beauty and his good heart. Somehow he looks as terrified as he did when you were nine and watched horror movies hidden in the garage of his grandfather’s home. Eventually, he’d ask you if you wanted to hold hands, and to this day, you’re not sure if it was because he was scared, or because he knew you were. 
“Yeah, yeah, yeah!” You nod furiously, one hand reaching out to cup his face as if to it from breaking - like porcelain. 
“Yeah, you dumbfuck. You’re my best friend. You know that. I don’t know why you’re asking me to promise this now, but in case you’re worried, I’m like a fever you can’t shake,” you laugh, and the tension dissipates as he laughs with you. “Don’t get all mushy on me, I don’t want tear stains on my new sweater.”
You poke at his cheek softly and he deadpans, shooting you a glare.
“It’s my sweater.”  
“I don’t care. I’m the one who’s wearing it!” You shrug, a smug smile plastered all across your features. “It’s mine now.”
“You’re lucky you’re my friend, otherwise I’d have thrown you off this roof.” He gestures at the ground.
“And if I were your worst enemy?” You squint, leaning forward to intimidate him a little, which doesn’t seem to work.
“As if you stood a chance!” He snorts, head tilting backwards.
“Jeon, I’m the one who saved your ass from getting kicked into an alleyway by that stupid bitch Eric and his brainless minions back in third grade. Don’t get too cocky.”
“That was one fucking time. What about all of the other times when I helped you skip P.E. at school because the mere mention of cheerleading made you pee in your nylon pants because the girls had tossed your glittery diary down the toilet?”
“Hey! That’s fucking different!” You scold him. “They read all of my secrets and the worst confessions of my desperate, undying crush at that time! Do you have any idea how fucking traumatizing it is for an ten year old to go to school every damn day, petrified that everyone’s going to find out about the guy I liked? They blackmailed me for the longest time!” You whine, and Jungkook’s face melts in an apologetic smile for a moment.
“Ok, fine.. ok. That was cruel of them, I’ll admit that,” he sighs, looking at the sun, already set on the horizon. “Still, no one found out. You’re safe now,” Jungkook looks back at you, squeezing your hand slightly. “Not even I found out.”
You pause, choking on nothing for a moment as you recollect the memories of that day. The girls had laughed at you mercilessly, but that hadn’t been the worst part. Maybe the worst part of it all was the words that came out of their mouths, confronting you with the truth.
Jeon Jungkook? He’ll never be into you. That’s why you’re his best friend. Every smart girl knows that’s guy code for a girl they’ll never want.
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-- autumn of 2011. --
Seven missed calls from Jungkook in the last two weeks which weren’t entirely missed by accident.
A sour taste takes over your mouth, glancing at the geeky, bunny smile his profile picture flashes at you. It’s been over a year since you last saw him, with the distance between you not only an entire country to be crossed, but oceans of a love you’ve struggled to maintain silent.
It shoots a sharp pain through you to know your calls will consist of his talks about his new girlfriend (and you were, weirdly enough, still happy for him), his ‘cool dude’ roommates who’d invite him to play the drums in their band and other random, meaningless conversations about the animes he’d been watching.
You couldn’t find it in yourself to care. Even when you forced it out of your lips, it came out wrong and your near fifteen year old friendship vanished somewhere into the telephone wires and the few and far between likes on each other’s Facebook posts.
It’s better off that way, it’s what you tell yourself. 
But you know your roommate Mina has been all too worried about you, shooting you a frown whenever she sees your face of despair when you look at your phone. You don’t really know what’s worse: his random text spams or the weekends in which he’d go silent.
Both of you had left one another hanging, but you willingly had been the one to throw in the towel first without announcing it to poor Jeon Jungkook, whose attempts to maintain contact would hopefully fade slowly in the next upcoming months.
And even when you missed him, when you wanted him to be the first person to listen to a new song you had found, to be the first person to text when your grades weren’t too good or when you had been invited to yet another frat house party, you couldn’t afford to make a move. It’s as if you’d rather starve than live on any crumbs of a love that lived in your head.
jk’s new number @ [1:12pm]: hey, you okay? we haven’t really talked lately. are u still busy with exams?
You know he knows your exam week is over and you’re not mad to lie to Jungkook about that. He had a peculiar memory for details and was far too smart for his own good. Even with miles of distance, you feared he’d always be able to read you like a book.
So you put your phone down, even when your conscience knows better. Maybe in a different world, you’d have the guts to be upfront with Jungkook, be rejected, simply get over it and stay best friends with the only person in the world who had ever heard you sing in the car and cry over the Star Wars franchise. 
His love for you was too pure and maybe that was exactly the problem. You’d never be able to move on, because you don’t think you’d ever want to. It was as intensely soul crushing as it was a silent slow burn in the corners of your heart, both a forest and a brush fire.
 You’d never not be able to wonder what it feels like to give him the world.  He deserved that much. 
All you had to give was the scraped heart you had been left with. 
You feared it wouldn’t be enough.
When the hours become too much for you to bear and your roommate’s words echo in the back of your mind in a ‘you know you have to tell him, right?’ kind of way, you acknowledge Jungkook’s text. Your reply is brief, a short-lived apology made up of another excuse.
you @ [7:21pm]: yeahhhh~ sorry. just.. assignments???
And when you’re ready to lift the burden off your shoulders, your phone buzzes on your nightstand once more, Jungkook’s reply flashing on your screen.
jk’s new number @ [7:23pm]: fast replier aren’t you :~) you @ [7:27pm]: koo, i was studying. 
You are a liar. A bad one, at that.
jk’s new number @ [7:28pm]: ok and?? boring. what are u up to now. you @ [7:30pm]: going to this stupid party. mina doesn’t wanna be alone. jk’s new number @ [7:31pm]: mina is the cute roommate right?? sorry i can’t remember names lol she’s so pretty 😍 you @ [7:32pm]: why are you interested in mina all of a sudden…. what about lea lia whatever the hell her name was??1?1 jk’s new number  @ [7:34pm]: bitter much :| jk’s new number @ [7:34pm]: also, we broke up a week ago. taehyung said i should slut it up. you @ [7:35pm]: “sorry i can’t remember names lol” you @ [7:35pm]: you sure do listen a lot to this taehyung guy huh jk’s new number @ [7:37pm]: you’re acting weird :/ jk’s new number @ [7:38pm]: is this a bad time to text?? you ok? you @ [7:40pm]: sorry, just tired. can’t do this right now. jk’s new number @ [7:41pm]: do what? you @ [7:42pm]: idk. pretend we’re like.. still friends?? jk’s new number @ [7:43pm]: but you never pick up my calls, you dumbfuck!!!! i’ve been trying 2 call you for the past three days and u just. don’t pick up. i had to confirm if you were indeed alive by checking at ur facebook profile. you @ [7:45pm]: i’m headed out to the party. sorry.. text u in the morning???
But you didn’t. Not in the morning, or the next one, or the one after that. Slowly, in its own weird kind of way, distance made it worse. It didn’t make your heart grow fonder, just smaller.
Jungkook’s texts ceased entirely two months later.
A stupid ending to the promise of a forever friendship. He broke your heart, you broke a promise. It only seemed fair, though you still ached whenever his pictures popped on your timeline at the worst of times, reminding you of the person who held your heart and yet had always been so oblivious to the point of crushing your heartstrings with the same grip in which he had captured them.
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-- winter of 2011. --
You were so, so stubborn. Not as in.. a tough cookie, but the toughest, roughest rock. Too guarded, hiding your vulnerabilities under sarcastic jokes because Jungkook reckoned you’d rather laugh at your pain than acknowledge it. He remembers all of the evenings in which you’d marathon horror movies in his grandfather’s garage, and he knows you were far too proud to tell him you were scared.
So he would do it for you, pretending to be the one who was too scared of the dark to fall asleep and ask if you wanted to hold his hand. The wide eyed look on your face and your small nods were priceless, especially when you didn’t know how easy it was to read you.
And how could he be stay mad at you for all of the unanswered calls in the past year when your mother came to his door, begging him to take you to the nearest doctor because your delirious feverish state made your limp body far too heavy for her to carry and her beat up car wouldn’t make it out of the block?
You didn’t tell him you’d be coming home for Christmas. Both of you weren’t on talking terms at all, which puzzled him in a way he couldn’t figure out. He couldn’t even remember the last time you had seen one another, but it felt like it had been a decade since he’d seen your face.
So when his eyes met the sight of you laying heavy on your mom’s couch, weirdly positioned in your usual frowning-and-drooling-in-your-sleep face, he chuckled to himself in a sigh of relief. You had a funny way of clinging onto blankets and pillows when you slept, which made you look like a giant, grumpy child.
“She’s got a bad, bad cold, I told her to wear another jacket last night, but she didn’t listen,” your mom mutters, arms crossed as she takes a look at you.
Jungkook nods, a brief huff escaping him. 
“Sounds like the girl I know,” he smiles softly, a sad warmth to the way he looks at you. “I bet she even told you how she never gets sick.”
Your mom giggles for a brief second at the accuracy of his words, landing a hand on Jungkook’s shoulder. She needed his comfort the most, but in a millisecond, it felt like the other way around. 
“I’m glad you’re here, Jeon. I know she’s a handful, but I don’t think she’s ever had anyone like you to rely on,” her face sobers, the depth of her eyes and her words swallow him in. “I’ve been worried about her, she doesn’t speak of you anymore and whenever I ask her of you, she just changes the topic to something else...”
“I don’t know what’s going on either,” he confesses, forgetting your presence yet affected by you just the same. His small shrug and the way his voice cracks just the slightest bit at the end of his sentence denounces worry and guilt.
Your mother’s gaze falls on you again, a slow nod and a reassuring look in her eyes. Jungkook recognizes the feeling of sadness over you he’s also been harbouring, both of them ruined by the walls you’ve put between you and everyone else.
“She’s been.. so quiet lately,” your mom confesses, her hand still laying on Jungkook’s shoulder. “Don’t tell her I told you,” she warns him slightly, softening her voice in a whisper. “But I think someone really broke her heart.”
He nearly melts in how much he’s missed you, hearing a quiet crack in the softest spot of his heart. Jungkook places his hand over your mother’s, wondering who in the world could’ve stomped all over you and your love. And why, why you shut him out when you needed him the most, why you didn’t tell him.
And why your silence killed him more than any words ever could.
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peachysamu · 2 days ago
“I’ve never had my first kiss.”
Draken chokes on his drink, almost swallows it down the wrong pipe but he at least has the decency to not spray it out like they do on tv. You instantly recoil into yourself and tug the sleeves of your sweater over your hands. It could have been worse, you tell yourself in consolation. He could have started laughing so you guess silence is better than that.
But is it really better when he stares at you so intensely with such a stiff face that you know is only placid through sheer determination so that he may not humiliate you any further?
“Hmm?” The blonde pounds at his chest. Two beats resound until he gives a throaty cough, “S-say that again?”
You frown, an impish look with a puff of your cheeks. “Don’t make me do that. It’s embarrassing.”
“What’s so embarrassing about it? It’s just a kiss.” Draken tries to feign nonchalance by taking another sip of his cold soda and ease his throat and nerves. It’s a futile attempt from the one he basically inhaled prior.
You flick the can in his hand. He yells in surprise but it fizzes out when you start reprimanding him. “Oh, don’t do that either! You just choked on your drink! Of course it’s a big deal.”
“You just said it out of nowhere is all.” Draken says. In reality, of course he’s surprised. He’s sworn you’ve had your first kiss by now. How could you not? You’re so lovable and nice. He can’t be the only that sees it. But what you need right now is an anchor so he settles himself down and leans his weight back onto his hands. He lifts his face to the sun and stares at the horizon. The sun is setting in sherbet hues. “You told Mikey?”
“Pfft. Of course not. I’d never hear the end of it.”
He chuckles in agreement. “What about Mitsuya?”
“No. He’d give me such a pitiful look I don’t think I could handle it.” And when you say that, you turn yourself to the sun too, absorbing its warmth like a field of sunflowers while your legs swing underneath you.
“So why me?”
“I don’t know.” But you do. Draken makes you feel safe. He’s home and with him, you feel whole. It doesn’t matter if you’re hugging his waist on his bike going 80 in the pitch black of night or if you’re here in the grass, near a riverbank at sundown. And call you a hopeless romantic but you’ve always imagined it to be with someone like him, someone you trust. “Maybe because I— I want—“
You tug at your sleeves once more. They twist in your fingers as you try and find any outlet to rid yourself of the fish bone that you can’t hack out of your chest.
“You want it to be me?”
You graciously nod, more than thankful that he finishes the sentence for you.
“You sure?” He’s bewildered. “Me? There are nicer guys out there.”
“You’re nice too, Draken.”
“Nicer than me. I’m a good for nothing—“
“Shut up and kiss me.” Draken almost smirks at how eager you sound, but fuck, when did you get so close? Last he saw, you were over there, but now you’re near enough that, if he wanted, he could count every single lash that graces your lids. And how you simply sparkle in the sunset. And Draken doesn’t consider himself much of a romantic, but damn, these sherbet skies feel like a fairytale.
So he presses his lips against yours, a soft tentative touch on both your ends, like treading water for the first time. It’s cozy and warm he can’t help but drown himself in the feeling by moving his lips even further.
But you pull away. Disappointed for only a moment, he revels at the dreamy look in your eye that is buffered by the shy way you bite your lip to hide your grin.
“Th-thanks,” And the smile breaks. “That was a cool first kiss.”
“What about a second?” He takes his hand to the back of your neck and pulls you in. “And a third?” Another kiss.
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archerincombat · a day ago
i must be crazy (leaving you behind)
“I could’ve booked an Uber,” Buck snaps.
“Yeah, but you didn’t,” Eddie retorts. “Did she even ask you to come?”
“How does that matter?”
And, the thing is, every time Eddie says “you make everything about you,” he doesn’t mean it. He’s only trying to say ​​“Buck, you make everyone’s problems your own and I’m trying to tell you that it’ll kill you. And Taylor Kelly’s got a better grip than most.
or: Eddie drives Buck to the airport in 5x09
If Buck’s happy, Eddie’s happy.
If Buck’s happy then Eddie’s happy, he means it. It’s just that, well, Buck’s frowning and he’s frowning about Taylor Kelly, who Eddie doesn’t even like, so Eddie’s not happy, per se, but he barks out a laugh anyway and tries to hide the fact that Buck’s relationship issues aren’t…
The point is, Eddie is extremely upset for his friend who is about to break up with his bitchy, manipulative girlfriend. 
“Taylor’s not Ali or Abby,” Hen reassures him. “Maybe you’re just being a little too...Buck about this.”
“A little?” Eddie asks, because he hates Taylor Kelly but he hates Buck’s frown way more. “When was the last time a girl left you to go wash her hair? 1952?”
Buck smiles, and everything blurs around the edges.
And Eddie’s… he’s not used to being aware of all this. The BuckandEddie of it all. He’s not used to being allowed to want things that don’t already belong to him. Especially not people like Buck, so golden that Eddie doesn’t know where to put it: these feelings of his. He thinks it’s a wonder that he’s not bursting at the seams. Because Taylor doesn’t deserve Buck, but God Eddie doesn’t either.
He tunes back in when Bobby gives Buck a lecture titled ‘How to keep your girlfriend 101’. Eddie doesn’t point out that Bobby gave him advice and it lead to Shannon divorcing him and Ana baking a thousand muffins in his kitchen, but he wants to. Buck rolls his eyes and taps his knee.
“Yeah,” Eddie mutters loud enough for everyone to hear. “Who does that?”
Buck squints at him and it takes everything in Eddie not to grin back, because he’s still technically with Taylor and Eddie’s a self-respecting man. He doesn’t flirt with someone who’s taken, even if their breakup is imminent — so he just gives Buck a look, shakes his head, and sinks back into his seat.
Eddie gets a phone call at 7 the next morning. The breakup was not imminent. Eddie kind of hates everything.
“Can’t you Uber?” Eddie grumbles into his pillow. “It’s a Saturday.”
“They have planes on Saturday, Eddie,” Buck says impatiently. “I know you aren’t doing anything today.” He pauses, “You aren’t, right?”
Eddie’s tempted to leave the silence as is, awkward and all too familiar, but his sleep-addled brain pushes the words out before he can get to them. “What plans would I make that you wouldn’t know about?”
“Yeah, true.” Buck shuffles around on the other end, but his voice sounds considerably lighter. “So...expensive Ubers. Really nice friends that want to help keep my relationship together—”
And it hits Eddie, then. He sits up and one of his pillows falls to the floor; which, it’s very embarrassing that he’s wasting this much energy over Taylor Kelly, but maybe she should stay away from his best friend. 
“What?” He demands, the last few minutes finally clicking. “Why are you going to the airport?”
There’s more shuffling and Eddie’s heart is in his stomach. What if Taylor got a job offer and this is Buck’s way of leaving for good? What if this is his note on the bedside table and everyone knew it was coming except Eddie? What if—
“I can’t…” Buck’s voice turns uncomfortable and Eddie hates it. “Come on, Eddie, it’s like a day trip at worst.”
And that settles something, but also it’s Buck, so it doesn’t really. The idea of Buck in a different state — something that hasn’t happened in the whole 3 years they’ve known each other — doesn’t sit right. Something about Buck being alone, without him. Something about Buck following something else. “Wha-”
“Listen, just come pick me up and I’ll tell you,” Buck says, obviously in a rush. And then, because he knows Christopher is at a sleepover until 11 and Eddie will do pretty much anything Buck asks him to, he hangs up.
The first thing Buck says when he gets into the truck is, “I know you don’t like her.”
He’s only carrying a laptop bag slung around his shoulders, which is relieving. But not so much that it doesn’t hit Eddie with a twinge of annoyance. No shit, he wants to say. Which is why I don’t get why I’m here and why you’re still with her. 
Instead, he settles for a very dry, very sarcastic, “Right on, man,” which Buck introduced to his vernacular, and starts the car.
The silence lasts for about 30 seconds, because Eddie’s a nosy motherfucker. “Where are you going?”
“Oklahoma,” Buck replies, picking at his jeans. 
“Taylor’s there, for, it’s a super shitty situation. And I should be a good boyfriend, right?” Buck glances at him as they hit a red. He looks like he’s asking for someone to tell him ‘no’, but Eddie already did that, back in the truck, and he’s getting tired of his advice falling on deaf ears.
“Why?” He mumbles. “It’s Taylor.”
Buck huffs, but it’s the serious kind, the one that means he’s actually getting kind of pissed. And sure, Eddie’s not being helpful by any means, but if Buck won’t tell him what the hell he’s doing booking a ticket to Oklahoma to chase after his girlfriend, compensating for something he doesn’t even want, then Eddie can be petty too.
“I could’ve booked an Uber,” Buck snaps. 
“Yeah, but you didn’t,” Eddie retorts. “Did she even ask you to come?”
“How does that matter?”
And, the thing is, every time Eddie says “you make everything about you,” he doesn’t mean it. He’s only trying to say ​​“Buck, you make everyone’s problems your own and I’m trying to tell you that it’ll kill you.” but the words never come out right. He’s been watching for three years as life grabs at Buck’s ankles and tries to hold him underwater. Every so often, he’s terrified that someone might succeed.
It’s getting close to dangerous territory when they pull up at the airport — a gray area that sounds a lot like “Why do you even hate her anyway?” (because she’s a terrible person) and “Why was this the first time we’ve been in a car together since I came back to work?” (because I’m in love with you). 
And Eddie can’t—he just can’t do it while Buck’s still with her. His hand hovers over the lock button as Buck grumbles his way through opening the door, like he can keep him here, where he belongs, instead of fucking Oklahoma, like he has any idea of what goes on in Buck’s head these days, like—
Like maybe, he didn’t get shot; like maybe he told Buck about the will the way he meant to, over dinner and a movie; like maybe, Eddie breaks up with Ana and Buck follows and he’s not at LAX with a bag in his hand and he’s not chasing someone else.
“Thanks,” Buck murmurs, offering him a small smile. They’re obviously not going to talk here, but Eddie’s coming to think that maybe they never will. “I’ll be back in a day.”
“I’ll hold you to it,” Eddie replies, because it’s fucking Evan Buckley and he will. “Have a safe flight.”
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kocoir · 2 days ago
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⪧ wc: 2.4k
⪧ cw: f!reader x underground fighter! geto + descriptions of fighting and injuries + blood + praise + cockwarming + mentions of Gojo.
⪧ a/n: just a repost from my old blog, really proud of this one so hope you like it<3
⪧ tagging: @bajimi @suget
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His big, rough hands covered in the typical white bandages to protect his knuckles, but at the same time stained with his opponent’s dried blood. Each blow is harder than the other, muscles flexing every time he bends his arms to hit the occasional uppercut straight to the other’s bruised chin. Between those bruised forearms and scarred fists when he gets into a blocking stance, you can see that wild look of determination overflowing his dark eyes.
His hair, the one he had arranged in a perfect bun at the beginning is now completely undone, letting the unruly locks fall over his shoulders and part of his back, sticking to his forehead and the sides of his face thanks to the uncomfortable sweat at the same time his cheeks were stained with a bright crimson color. Those soft, pink lips now marred by small cuts thanks to the hard punches, his left cheekbone somewhat swollen with a purple stain adorning it. The image of his heaving chest, rising and falling in a desperate attempt to bring air into his lungs is what gives it away.
A direct punch on his nose is what makes him stagger for a few seconds. The screams and your voice calling out his name are a very distant noise, feeling a small buzzing in his ears which makes him shake his head and blink a couple of times to come back to himself. He doesn’t realize he is bleeding until he feels the familiar metallic taste of the blood invade his palate and the small crimson drops slide down his chin to touch the ground.
He looks utterly defeated, but he’s not going to lose, especially not when his girl is in the front row witnessing it all. The euphoric cheers of encouragement from the crowd and your comforting face just on the other side of the circle of fences surrounding them, is what ignites that fiery flame in his chest and once again, the heat rushes through his entire body along with a sudden spark of adrenaline. It’s as if a current of electricity runs down his entire spine, through his strong arms and into his nervous system, flowing through his veins all the way to his hands.
He swore he didn’t enjoy this, that it was just something to earn money to pay for college since he couldn’t get a steady job, but the smile on his face at the exact moment his knuckles hit his opponent’s cheek, causing him to fall to the ground with a thud echoing throughout the place, makes him realize that it’s something that makes him feel completely and utterly alive.
His face lights up the moment he sees the referee bow to the other person lying only half a meter away, counting to three to finally approach Suguru and raise his arm in a victory sign to which instinctively his face turns to see you with a warm smile. I win, is the last thing you see him mutter before disappearing into the wild crowd.
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“Ouch.” A pain-filled hiss fills the silence of the small room one of the leaders assigned to him so he could recover.
“Can you stay still? That’s the third time you’ve moved.” The annoyance in your voice is quite noticeable, accompanied by your furrowed brows.
“But it hurts.”
“No one told you to let him split your lip open.”
“It was a direct hit, what was I supposed to d—” A small choked gasp escapes his throat the moment your fingers press the alcohol-soaked cotton back onto the bruised skin.
“Dodge it you idiot— You’ve been doing this for months, you’re supposed to know what to do by now.”
You can see his eyes drop to the floor, breaking the contact with your gaze. “Aren’t you… Aren’t you proud?”
You bite your lip in regret, had you been too harsh? “No, it’s not that. Of course I’m proud, it’s just that—ugh, I just don’t like seeing you all hurt… You look like you came back from the war.” A snort of defeat escapes your mouth, looking around your surroundings until your gaze falls back on his unrivaled figure. Sitting on a small couch almost on its last moments, his body dressing only a pair of worn out black shorts that he most likely stole from Satoru, the fact that he’s not wearing a shirt lets you see the bruises adorning his abdomen and above his ribs while small scratches along his arms don’t go unnoticed. “But I’m proud, I always will be.”
The room fills with silence for a few moments until you hear that typical mocking laugh roll out from deep of his throat. Your face full of confusion is what makes him laugh even harder, the melodious sound reaches your ears but you can only find it irritating. “Of course I know you’re proud, I just needed to hear you actually say it.”
“You’re insufferable.”
“You still love me.” You can see his eyebrows go down at the same time his eyes almost close completely as he smiles, a genuine smile, plastered completely across the width of his face to which you can’t help but curve the corners of your mouth as well.
He shakes his head as all the laughter fades into the air. Geto settles into his seat, leaning his back fully against the back of the worn leather chair to which he lands an elbow on its armrest, taking the opportunity to rest his chin on his right hand. You can see his legs slowly spreading apart, as if he wants to give you some kind of invitation without saying a word.
His jovial black eyes rest on your figure, slowly making their way up and down without any remorse, taking note of how short the black skirt you wear is and how well the delicate fabric accentuates every inch of your rigorous hips until they reach your chest. You can feel his gaze eating you alive, feeling your skin burn as if he is undressing you even though he is not laying a finger on you. His dark irises shift along your t-shirt, Suguru’s girl, hoarsely murmuring under his breath reading the text to himself.
“My eyes are up here, you know?” It’s the only sentence you’re able to formulate amidst the few nerves that wash over you.
“I know exactly where your eyes are, sweetheart.” He lets out a deep sigh as his free hand taps his legs, and you can see out of the corner of your eye how the corner of his lips lift slightly, causing the familiar dimple to make its presence known on his cheek, “C'mere.”
You silently obey, your footsteps making the old wood creak beneath your feet until you are standing in front of him again as at first. Straddling his lap at the same time you feel his thighs tense as you place your full weight on them without breaking the strong contact of your gazes.
He straightens up a little more, peeling his body from the comfort of the old-fashioned seat back, taking the opportunity to run his rough hands over your thighs. You can see his bruised and slightly injured knuckles clearly, taking a note to scold him later for not protecting himself properly with the bandages. But no matter how many fights he’s been in, no matter how many noses he’s broken, his palms run over your body gently, as if you were the finest china in the whole world, as if he were afraid you’d break at the slightest touch.
You feel his fingers finish tracing your waist to intertwine themselves behind your back as he looks at you softly. “Did I already tell you already how sexy you look today?” And there goes the softness.
“You need to stop hanging out with Satoru, you’re getting more and more annoying.”
A smirk creeps across his face, “You think I’m annoying? You think this—” His hands quickly sneak under your skirt, gripping your ass tightly, squeezing between his digits the flesh as he pulls your lower half towards himself, forcing you to rub your clothed core against his, enjoying the proximity of your body to the point where your chests are only inches away from each other, “—is annoying? ” A small moan rolls from your lips at the sudden contact. “You don’t seem too bothered by that, baby, or am I wrong? Do you want me to do it again?”
His hips move upward again, letting out a low growl that is barely audible to what you press your center even harder with his growing erection. Even though you are separated only by the thin fabric of his shorts along with your panties and his boxers, you can still feel him throbbing hard beneath you.
“Suguru, wait—”
“Take them off.”
“What?” Your face full of confusion only makes the impatience grow more.
“I said—”, his long fingers tangle around the edge of your underwear, stretching the thin fabric between them tightly until the sound of clothes tearing fills the silence of the place along with his agitated breathing, “—take them off, or didn’t you hear me?”. You can feel your panties slip down between your legs until you see them resting in his hands in front of you, only to see them disappear into the right pocket of his worn shorts. “You don’t need them anyways. You know I can fight.”
You swallow hard at his words, picturing in your head the image of you walking out of the small room to walk among the people, mostly men, with nothing covering you underneath, with the risk of the slightest breeze lifting your skirt exposing you to the hungry eyes of others. The mere thought makes your heart crash hard against your chest and your cheeks burn from the sudden heat.
Your thoughts are interrupted by Suguru’s palms landing on your hips, helping you move in a back and forth pattern on top of him again and again, feeling his fingertips bury themselves into your skin. Soft grunts and moans filling the air as his breath collides with yours, feeling his warm breath make contact with your half-open mouth, impatiently rubbing against his prominent bulge. He pauses for a few moments to look at you, wetting his lips with his tongue at the image of your flushed face and your perky nipples showing through your white t-shirt, leaving little and nothing to the imagination.
His breathing is heavy, feeling the heat coursing through his body like a flame as he palms his member over his pants. A small chuckle reaches your ears as he sees your eyes looking straight down, “Looking at something you may like, princess?” His voice is husky, somewhat deep, causing a wave of shivers to run down your spine as you move on top of him. “Do you want to fully see it? Mhm? Is that what you want?”
Without a second thought you nod enthusiastically, feeling your heart pounding hard against your ribcage. The blood flowing through your body fluidly and quickly, feeling the heat invading your entire being as Suguru slowly pulls down the hem of his thin shorts.
Eerything feels in slow motion and you grow more and more impatient, until you hear the familiar sound of skin colliding against skin, leaving the imposing cock standing tall in front of you in full view. The tip tinged with an angry red color, at the same time you can perceive the small slit spraying precum, making the sticky liquid run freely along its entire length until it reaches the prominent vein resting at the bottom of it. It has an slight curve going up that you know from experience that serves perfectly to hit that sweet spot deep inside you.
“Stop looking and sit on it.” His raspy voice snaps you out of your trance, lifting yourself up as you grab the edge of your skirt, lifting it just a little above your hips to give him a better view. His rough hand grips the base of his member to line it up at your entrance, not before running the tip against your wet folds, collecting your warm juices with it, pleased by the way the little moans come out of your mouth effortlessly. “Fuck baby, you’re so wet…. c'mon do it, I— Mhm, that’s it, God you feel so fucking good.” His head falls back heavy, enjoying the way your gummy walls hug him perfectly, as if they were made for him. Feeling you contract each time you sink deeper and deeper, almost filling you completely. Almost. His big hands cup your ass, massaging it between his thick fingers hard as he pushes you harder. “Spread your legs a little wider for me, I know you can take more of it.”
His palms make their journey to the junction of your hips and thighs, squeezing the flesh of this area hard, forcing your body to go a little lower. Small agitated sighs reaching your ear, pulsing inside you hard with the slightest movement. “Yeah… Just like that, sweetheart.” A smile creeps across your mouth at the sweet praise in between the little gasps, encouraging your body to slowly move up and down patiently, feeling the stretch burn your insides with every tiny move, until you feel a pair of warm hands take hold of your waist, bringing your body back to its starting position, sinking you deeper onto his cock.
“What are you doing?”
“I thought that—”
“Oh no baby.” His voice cuts you off mid-sentence, in a soft tone, just for you to hear but at the same time he’s hiding a hint of sorrow at seeing your helpless expression plastered all over your face. “I said sit, I didn’t tell you to move, did I?” One of his palms happens to take place on your cheek, stroking the warm skin tenderly with his thumb, then hiding a lock of hair behind your ear. He leans in a few inches until your noses barely touch. You can feel his warm tongue lick your lower lip until your mouths meet in a small peck, feeling the metallic taste on your palate thanks to the small cut on his lip. “I won’t fuck you properly till we get home, but I know how much you like being full of me so here we are… Now—”, his light touches against your skin make you shiver, his fingertips gently grazing over it until he pulls away from you. Reaching on the small table next to you for the forgotten absorbent cotton along with a small bottle of alcohol, “—be a good girl and help me clean my wounds. Will you?”
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natty-taffy · 2 days ago
left, right. left, right. steady - [natasha x stark!daughter] - 1/3
Being the daughter of Tony Stark has it's perks, you go unnoticed by the threats he faces while living at one of his summer safe houses.
That is, until a hurt Natasha Romanoff breaks into it, at 4am.
TW: guns pointed at you, minor mention of violence
A thunderous noise echoes through your house. You had just passed the slumber phase of sleeping five seconds ago, but are completely awake now, though your eyes can’t find the courage to open themselves.
Your first instinct is to call your father, of course, but you are so frozen in fear that you can’t even manage to move your arms to grab the phone.
After few seconds of silence there’s another noise, this one of broken glasses, followed by dragged, strong steps that, weirdly enough, don’t come closer to your room, but instead remain on where you assume is the kitchen.
You frown, managing to open only one eye- well, if this was a robber, they would at least try to be quiet, and if they wanted to harm you, they should be here by now.
It was only after a grunt you realized what was going on; somebody was hurt.
With your heartbeat decreasing slightly, you allow yourself to open your second eye and weight your possibilities; you would have to deal with whoever it was sooner or later, since you highly doubt they would go away before the sun is up.
You grab your phone, it flashes 4:37am.
You huff, not even bothering calling your father anymore, knowing that the person probably is not a threat, since it came for refugee at one of his houses. It’s not their fault, how would they know you were spending the summer there?
As much as I’m tempted to, I can’t just turn to the side and sleep, the rational part of you reasons and you roll your eyes, just slightly, at it.
Before leaving the bed, though, you reach for the small pistol that you keep on the bedside- you never know- and only then, slowly goes downstairs, tapping your feet lightly against the wooden tiles.
“Do not move” comes a strong voice from the kitchen, somewhat strained at the edges, you assume it’s because of the pain.
You stop dead on your tracks, not wanting to enter in any type of combat, giving your terrible lack of skills compared to any minor agent. And this, you know, is no minor agent because no voice could ever compare to hers;
The Black Widow.
As much as you allow yourself to breath out the rest of air you were holding, you still can’t count your victories- see, you know her, everybody does, these days, but she doesn’t know you.
One of the perks of being the only daughter of Tony Stark is to remain hidden until extreme circumstances- like untraceable-to-the-CIA level, but one of the lows is that… well, you are untraceable-to-the-CIA level. Nobody knows you.
“I’m not here to hurt you” You find your mouth saying without you realizing, yeah, because you’re really a threat to her.
“What are you doing here?” The dragged foot is the only thing that tells you she’s moving towards the stairs and you can’t help but feel a lump forming on your throat.
Because what happens if she doesn’t believe you?
Her pistol appears before her face does, and you truly would have never been ready to see her so close to you. But you can hardly concentrate on the way her eyes are even greener outside of a screen or how her mouth is chapped but still looks ridiculously-
The point is- you can hardly focus on that because, fuck, she’s a wreck.
“I’m living here” you answer simply, letting her interpret it the way she wanted “You woke me up, I just came down to check”
Natasha stares at your gun for a minute too long before giving a step back, allowing you to take one forward- at that, she seems quite satisfied and lowers the gun by one inch “What do you mean by living” she winces in the span of a second as her left foot touches the ground “here?”
You eye her foot “Can I take a look?” you slowly put your gun on the ground, kicking it to her and putting your hands up in surrender.
Which has not been your smartest move ever, you could say, since she has now two guns against you and you can barely body combat. But all she does is gaze at the weapon, returning quickly the focus on you.
“No” she answers shortly “Who are you?”
You smile, not really knowing how good would it be to reveal yourself as a Stark given the circumstances of the Sokovia Accords “I’m [Y/N], nice to meet you”
Natasha is yet to move, her tired eyes scan your face once again and it’s so penetrating that you’re suddenly afraid she can read your thoughts. You take a step back and her gun is pointed at you again “I can just go back to sleep if you want to”
She laughs lightly and humorlessly “You’re standing where I can see you”
Honestly, you don’t think of it as a bad thing at all.
You just nod and decide do step two more steps down, ignoring your gun still on the ground, really not wanting to spend the rest of your night on the stairs “Well, I’m going to make tea, would you like some?”
She looks at you as if you lacked a cephalon- fair, since you did offer a drink to a spy. “No”
“Okay” you grant as you slowly arrives at her side- her gun is now three inches from your head, following you wherever you go, you try to not give her any reason to suspect you and focus on your walk.
Left and right, left and right. Steady.
It’s hard, you can barely feel yourself in your body- your legs tremble so much you’re worried they’ll give up at any second, right under her aim.
“Do you- um- want to follow me?” You ask, keeping your mouth occupied so you won’t throw up “You don’t have to, I’m just- because you look…” She arches an eyebrow, you can’t say if the glint on her eyes was real or if the light struck very quickly on them. You urge your mouth to say something “Bad”
You look bad.
Fucking best thing you could have said to an ex-KGB super duper spy. You could cry right now if you knew she wouldn’t laugh at your face for it.
“Are you insulting me?” She asks, taking a small step forward, searching through your face again, as if you were a puzzle to be resolved. Which, if you were, would probably be one of those with 10 pieces for three year old’s.
“No” You answer simply, returning your focus on your walk- the kitchen is already there, maybe five steps away; left and right, left and right. Steady.
Would she even follow? You don’t dare to look back.
“Stay put, Jesus” she slowly begins to follow your steps.
For some sadistic reason, you smile a little with the realization.
hope you guys liked this one!! you can also find this story here :D
if there are any mistakes lmk!
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fic-dumpster · 2 days ago
Okay okay but imagine doe hanging out with bonten and she sees a cute stuffie in one of those claw machines.
But but but
The best part imagine bonten trying to win it for her, but they all lose the whole time. Koko just gets so upset and buys the whole claw machine for her
Can we pretend I didn’t take a whole year to answer u 😔💕
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Yes, they made Koko go and change some bills.
Kokonoi Hajime, Bonten executive, and his jingling pockets.
Yes, they tried to get the plushy.
Key word: tried
after many attempts from everyone’s part, Koko goes to talk with the owner.
Rindou takes his jacket off and wraps it around his fist, and… tries to break the plastic-like-glass machine.
It does not work.
Sanzu rolls his eyes and calls Rindou an amateur.
Sanzu proceeds to pull out his gun (with a silencer) and shoots
*glass breaks*
Kakucho and Ran start pulling out the stuffed animals.
Sanzu mocks Rindou.
Children in the establishment see a group of grown men emptying a claw machine.
Someone calles the police
Kokonoi came back after paying the owner for the machine, only to see the disaster Sanzu, Rindou, Ran, and Kakucho made.
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Mikey ordered Sanzu and Koko to do something, and they took the Haitani brothers with them, leaving you in the car with him and Takeomi.
The sound of police sirens alerted you. Turning around, you saw the four missing Bonten members bolt out of an arcade—arms full of stuffed animals as a police car veered around the corner.
“GET IN THE CAR!!” shouted Rindou, holding three hello Kitty plushies and four blue elephants, struggling to open the door.
Like an avalanche, four bodies clashed in the back seats—Rindou’s leg hanging from the window.
“DRIVE TAKEOMI! DRIVE!!” Screamed Ran as he threw the monkey and snake plushies to the back.
Takeomi, without asking any questions, did as he was told.
“Here,” Kakucho handed you a baby whale.
“Oh, thank you... But I wanted the tuna fish,” you said.
Four groans filled the car, “Takeomi! We're going back!” Sanzu said, hitting his head on the back of the driver’s seat.
“No, you didn't,” murmured Mikey. He was sure of what animal you had pointed earlier, and everyone was struggling to get.
“Hmm,” you hummed, “I’m sure it was a tuna fish, Mikey,” a fit of giggles left your mouth.
“You’re evil,” Takeomi commented as he saw his brother and the Haitani brothers drag Koko back into the arcade.
Meanwhile, Mochi had to distract some police cars so that they could get the stuffed animals.
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tinselbuck · 4 hours ago
to live without a lifeline
buddie (966 words)
Honestly, Buck expects it to take longer for Eddie to find him. Actually, if he’s really being honest, he hadn’t expected Eddie to find him at all. Not because he’s hiding (although he is doing that), but because finding him means talking to him, and they don’t really seem to do that anymore.
“I’m fine, you know,” Eddie says, dropping down next to him and bumping his shoulder.
“Yeah,” Buck rasps.
He knows. Eddie’s fine. He’s always fine. Fine until the day he’s not and then-
Buck swallows and looks away.
“Are you okay?” Eddie asks, soft and tentative.
No. “I’m-” Not fine, not fine, not-
“The answer is allowed to be no, Buck,” Eddie sighs.
Buck shakes his head. “Is it?”
“I know what it looked like,” Eddie says quietly.
Except no, he has no idea what it looked like, because he wasn’t the one watching the wench when his line snapped, he wasn’t the one making the desperate grab for a rope that was already gone, he wasn’t-
Buck chokes out a sob.
“I was two feet from the ground,” Eddie reminds him gently. “I’m okay.”
“I’m not,” Buck says, staring resolutely at his feet. Two words, and all of a sudden everything’s pouring out of him. “I’m not okay and I haven’t been okay, Eddie, not in months.”
“I know.”
Buck laughs bitterly. “Of course you do.”
They sit in silence for what feels like hours. The first light of dawn begins to paint the horizon. The roof of the firehouse is usually one of Buck’s favorite places, but this morning, it feels like a prison.
“I know you’re not okay, either,” Buck whispers finally.
“I’m not,” Eddie agrees.
“What are we doing, Eds?”
Buck chances a glance at him. Eddie’s eyes are closed and his head is tipped back against the wall. He’s got one knee drawn up to his chest, and in the watery morning light, he looks younger than Buck’s ever known him to be.
“Drowning, I think,” Eddie answers.
And yeah, Buck knows the feeling. Intimately.
“Buck, what do we do?” Eddie asks, and he sounds like he’s cracking apart. On instinct, Buck grabs his hand.
“I don’t know,” he says. “I don’t-”
“Why did you break up with Taylor?” Eddie asks suddenly.
The change of subject feels like whiplash. Buck would know. “W-why?”
“You never told me,” Eddie says simply.
Buck wants to laugh, or maybe scream. Of all the things they still haven’t talked about, this is the one Eddie wants to bring up? He shakes his head. For all he hasn’t said, he’s never lied to Eddie. He won’t start now.
“I couldn’t do it,” he says. “Couldn’t keep lying to myself. She and I were never going to make each other happy. We were both too fucking damaged.”
“I’m proud of you,” Eddie says, and Buck’s heart clenches. “I know the idea of losing people scares you.”
“I was never scared of losing her.”
Eddie looks at him then, brow furrowed and gaze seeking. “Why?”
“Losing her was never going to hurt the way losing you did,” Buck says. He bites his lip and looks away.
“You didn’t lose me,” Eddie says gently, almost pleading.
“I’ve lost you so many times,” Buck says. His throat feels raw, like he’s been screaming for hours. Maybe he has been.
“Buck, I-”
“I lost you to the tsunami. To the lawsuit. To the well. T-to Ana. To a sniper in broad daylight, and today I lost you to faulty equipment,” Buck says tonelessly. “I have lost you over and over again and every time it happens I think, this, this is going to be the thing that kills me.”
Eddie shakes his head, eyes shining. “No, no you can’t-”
“I know,” Buck says. “I know because you made me promise to survive losing you, but I don’t know how to do that.”
“You have to,” Eddie rasps.
“Please don’t make me,” Buck begs.
The sun finally crests the horizon, dying everything orange and gold. The hazy Los Angeles air makes everything look soft, like there are no sharp edges left in the world to impale himself on.
“I’m terrified of leaving you,” Eddie says finally. “I- I know what that would do. That’s why, okay? I need you to have a reason. I need both of you to be okay, one day.”
“For him- you know I would. I’d figure it out. Somehow.”
“I know.”
Buck’s eyes burn. “Please don’t leave me,” he whispers, and it’s unfair, he knows it’s unfair to ask this of Eddie. To ask it of anyone.
Eddie turns to face him, folding his knees beneath himself. He gently cradles Buck’s face in his hands, tugs him closer until their foreheads rest together.
“Never, okay?” Eddie says. “If there is still a shred of life in my body, I will use it to come home to my family, and that’s you. You and Christopher, I promise.”
Tears pour hot and heavy down Buck’s cheeks. He fists his hands in Eddie’s shirt.
“Can I-”
“Yes,” Eddie cuts him off.
Buck laughs wetly. “You don’t even know what I was going to ask.”
“Anything. Everything. Yes,” Eddie says.
“You don’t mean that,” Buck whispers.
“Evan, I do,” Eddie says, pulling back just far enough to look Buck in the eye. “Anything,” he repeats.
“Can I come home with you?” Buck asks, so quietly that if Eddie was more than three inches away, he probably wouldn’t have heard.
Eddie’s face softens impossibly. “Always,” he says. Buck opens his mouth to speak, but Eddie beats him to it. “I mean it.”
“Okay,” Buck says, willing himself to believe it. “Okay.”
Eddie stands and holds his hand out to Buck.
“Come on,” he says. “Shift’s over. Let’s go home.”
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ivycovereddreams · 2 days ago
The Second Clone Wars: Chapter Two - The Marshal Commander
Summary: After freeing the three commanders, Luke struggles with the politics of war.
Word Count: 3.8k
Warnings: Blood Canon Typical
A/N: Thanks for all the support on chapter one! It means so much to me to have you guys like my AU so much. If you haven’t read chapter one, you can find it here!
The silence was deafening.
The blonde clone stares at Luke, eyes wide and murky. He swallows hard, as if pushing away nausea.
The Marshal Commander looks more confused than surprised, but he doesn’t seem quite awake yet. Blood drips from his nose and a cloudy mist settles over his gaze.
The scarred clone clicks his blaster.
“You’re lying.” He says slowly, and Luke can feel conflict swirl in him like a storm on the sea. “This is some Separatist trick, he’s been sent here to kill us.”
“No, I promise I’m here to help you. I’m telling the truth, I promise.” Luke says, once again showing his empty hands.
“Prove it.”
“Ask R2. You know him.”
The blonde one's gaze shifts slowly to the droid. His expression is carefully neutral, but Luke can see the dread that lingers in his eyes.
R2 warbles softly, regretfully.
“25 years…” He breathes and Luke can feel the way his gut twists and his mind breaks as if it was his own.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” Luke murmurs, unable to find any other words.
“He could have reprogrammed the droid.” The scarred one says again, but his voice falters slightly.
“Wolffe.” The Marshal Commander finally speaks, slow and slightly slurred. “You know he didn’t.”
The scarred one, Wolffe, steps back, hands falling to his sides. Luke can feel that storm in the clone's chest again. The waves rolling and sinking. Like thunder cracking, his sense is unbalanced, broken.
“25…” Wolffe trails off.
Cody shakes his head softly, almost amused in a sad way. He seems the most well adjusted, despite the blood and haze, his sense was clearer.
“I’m so sorry.” Luke says again, realizing how helpless he sounds. “But I need to get you to a medical station, I promise I’ll tell you more later, just please.”
The Mashal Commander nobs, and points his head at the blonde clone.
“He’s right, we’re in no shape to argue.”
“Uh,” Luke glances up at the stasis chamber, trying to remember each of their numbers. “CT-2224-“
“His name is Cody.” The blonde one says, his voice slightly sharp. “And I’m Rex.”
“Oh!” Luke feels warmth crawl up his face. “Right! Cody. Let’s see if we can get you up and to the medical bay.”
Luke reaches down, but Cody stops him short, placing a bloodied hand on Luke’s jacket staining the white lining that lays flat on his chest.
“I can manage.” It’s not quite polite, and not quite rude, but Luke takes the hint. They don’t trust him. That was to be expected.
“Of course. I’m better as a light anyway.” Luke says, and with practiced ease, he ignites his saber and fills the room with a green glow.
And everyone’s senses freeze.
For the first time, Luke feels an uncertainty wash over Wolffe as if he is devoured by feelings of nausea and unease.
Luke turns, and finds them all staring at him.
“You’re a Jedi?” Rex breathes. Something about his tone is akin to astonishment, but the other two do not seem impressed. Cody seems indifferent, but Wolffe seems….frightened.
“If you’re a Jedi, where are the other Jedi? Where’s your master or padawan? I thought you all traveled in groups or something.” Wolffe says, and Luke can feel walls go up in his mind. His eyes get clearer, and his jaw sets.
Frozen, Luke hopes his stupid surprise doesn’t show on his face.
What was a padawan? And what in the universe was he going to tell them about the other Jedi?
“Just me and R2 today. Sorry.” Luke says before he even thinks it through. Not quite answering anything, and hoping the half apology dulls it.
Through the Force he can feel their unease grow. His response didn’t give any answers, but they were in no condition to argue.
But as Luke turns, he can feel Rex’s eyes watch him closer. He can feel Cody deep in thought, and faintly, Luke hears Wolffe turn off the safety on his blaster.
They pass through the cargo hold slowly, painfully.
They pass through the rows and rows, and Luke can feel their dread as they try to tear their eyes away from the pods.
Luke knew most of the clones were dead. Their life support and systems had probably failed years ago as the ship slowly lost power. The lights on their pods were mercifully off, making it impossible to see the body inside.
But Luke catches the way their eyes shift and linger. They don’t need the lights.
They had seen the dead before.
For a few moments, they walk in uncomfortable silence, until Luke hears Wolffe stop near the entrance.
He’s staring at a pod, CT-55/11-9009. Wolffe brushes away some of the dust thoughtfully, his sense uncharacteristically kind.
“As soon as I get all of you in better shape, we can start waking everyone else up-“ Luke starts, and stops short as he realizes all the lights are off.
“Don’t bother.” Wolffe says, voice void of any emotion. “He’s dead.”
They don’t speak again until they reach the medical bay.
It’s dusty and cold, but R2 sets to work, humming to himself and connecting to various computers and poking things with his arm extensions. He beeps loudly, signaling Luke.
“Why don’t you find a place to sit down, I’m going to help R2 find supplies.” Luke says, and Rex just nobs quietly.
The medical bay was a complete waste. If something wasn’t expired, it was empty. If something wasn’t empty, it wouldn’t turn on.
Luke curses under his breath, feeling the frustration beginning to wear on him.
He could still feel them, the clones in the cargo bay. He could still hear their silent grief. He had thought it would dull, but it only seemed to get louder as time passed. Every second he could feel their sense, their exhaustion, their loneliness. And Luke felt like he was drowning.
Rubbing a hand across his face, Luke turns and sees Rex and Wolffe helping Cody on a medical bed. They seemed strange. Three identical yet vastly different standing in a dull green glow.
They only had black skin suits on, an under armor of some kind, with a military style belt hooked at their waist.
Wolffe was the only one who had a holster on his belt.
It seemed the belts had basic medical supplies, as Rex had tissues and was wiping the dark blood from Cody’s hands, his brow furrowed.
They acted like him and Leia, Luke thought. The way their brows furrowed and how they whispered. The way they cared for each other, but seemed to be arguing at the same time.
They were conversing amongst themselves in a language Luke couldn’t identify. The words rolled together softly, but there was a depth there, like the warmth of a campfire in the middle of a desert night.
Luke Skywalker hadn’t always been a Jedi Knight. Once, Luke had been a lonely orphaned farm boy, who talked too much and spoke too loud.
And Luke knew when someone was talking about him behind his back.
They whispered, and if it wasn’t for his Jedi senses, the conversation wouldn’t have even found his ears.
“There’s nothing left in the emergency power.” Luke says suddenly, getting up and interrupting their conversation.
Wolffe shoots him a sharp look, but Rex only looks at Cody, his eyes sad.
Cody’s eyes are dull. He hadn’t stopped coughing blood, and his nose dripped endlessly. Luke grimaces.
“I need to check for internal issues on all of you, and I can’t do that without this scanner.” In all honesty, Luke didn’t even know what he was looking for, but R2 seemed to know what he was talking about. “I need to find another power source. Just strong enough to turn this on.”
“Extra power cells were stored in maintenance.” Rex offers, but R2 whistles disapprovingly and then beeps wildly.
“R2 says those will be long dead, he wants to plug himself into the machine- wait what!” Luke spins on his heels and faces the droid. “R2 I’m not going to let you do that. You’ll drain all your power, and I can’t refuel you. You could damage your memory, or worse.”
R2 beeps again, stubbornly.
“No. R2 we’ll think of something else.”
Suddenly, the green glow of the room hits him.
“My lightsaber!” Luke says, “I’ll see if I can rewrite the power distribution and get the crystal to power the machine.”
Luke summons the blade to him with the Force, and the room grows dark as it powers down.
“Will that work?” Rex says, and Luke feels his unease.
“I guess we’ll find out.”
The Force shifts about the room as Luke pulls apart the saber piece by piece. Eyes closed, he sees the pieces move in his mind. Delicately, he removes wires and gears and finally the crystal.
It glows softly green and hums in the now dark room. Luke tries to keep his mind on the present, willing the Force to guide him. This was a long shot at best, an impossibility most likely. But Luke calls.
Guide me.
Please make this work.
Guide me.
And suddenly he hears a loud chime, and the hum of a machine starting up.
Opening his eyes, Luke sees the scanner in front of him come to life, whirling away through the dust and age.
“By the Force…” Luke says and then, through the silence, Luke’s holo chimes loudly.
He scrambles for the holo in his pocket before glancing towards the clones.
“I have to answer this. R2 can help you with scans.”
They seem unsure, but Luke ignores the sense and moves to a dark corner in the room.
“Luke!” Leia’s image materializes before him, filling his face with dull blue glow. “You scared me to death! Why did you turn off your tracker?”
Both hands were on her hips, and her brown eyes were stern and cold. Luke smiles despite himself. He felt like he was being scolded by Beru again.
It was so good to see her.
Despite that, he pauses.
What would he say? What could he say?
Luke spares a glance towards the Commanders. Cody is inside the machine, and Rex and Wolffe are conversing again.
What could he say?
“Oh I just had some power troubles, R2 and I haven’t fixed it yet.” Luke says. It was close enough to the truth. They really hadn’t fixed his ship yet.
He wasn’t even quite sure why he was lying, why he was hiding. But that feeling in his sense, that loneliness, that fear, that emptiness, it told him to lie.
“Han got back over an hour ago, we expected you back by now.” She’s not satisfied with his excuse, and Luke knows it.
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to worry you.” He tries, offering a loose smile. “R2 and I just got sidetracked.”
“What’s wrong?” Leia says suddenly, her shoulders drooping slightly, “Are you okay?”
Luke wants to say something. Wants to ask for her advice, her Council.
Counselor Leia Organa-Solo. Politician and member of the New Republic.
And suddenly Luke knows why he must lie. He spares another look at the Clones.
Frozen by the Republic, and lost in space. Left behind and forgotten. Frozen in grief and loneliness and emptiness.
Frozen by the Republic.
“Who said anything was wrong?” Luke says.
“Luke, I’m your big sister. I always know if something is wrong.” Leia replies, a snarky smile on her face, but sadness in her eyes.
She wanted to help him.
But she would have to tell the others, and Luke wasn’t entirely sure they could be trusted. Most of them had been alive during the Clone Wars. Most of them probably voted to freeze them in the first place.
Luke’s stomach turns.
“We don’t know who’s older. I might be your big brother.” He says instead, pushing down the sickening feeling.
“You’re avoiding me.” Leia presses, hands on her hips again. “What’s wrong?”
“Ask me again sometime.” Luke smiles, but Leia gets the message.
Big news. Not the time.
Her eyes widen slightly and she stiffens. She remembered the last time he said that. Her sense is suddenly unsteady, and Luke can see her hands twist and turn in her sleeves, even as her face struggles to stay calm. Her eyes flicker for a moment, before settling on his face again.
“Be safe Skyguy. Don’t blow yourself up before my baby shower. It’ll ruin the whole party.” She smiles slyly, but Luke can see the conflict behind her gaze.
“I promise. I love you.” Luke says, and he hopes she knows he means it. Even as he lies.
“Love you too.” And she means it too.
With a flicker, Leia’s image fades, leaving the room dark and more empty than it had seemed before.
Luke swallows harshly. He felt sick.
What was he going to do now? After they got healed, he had wanted to start waking everyone else up, but now-
Now Luke wasn’t sure waking up was the best option.
He couldn’t leave them frozen, but if he woke them up, eventually the New Republic would find out, and eventually the debate would go to the senate and who knows what they would say.
They seemed so tired. The Clones seemed so tired of war. Their sense was hollow, and weak. How could he wake them up and possibly make them fight again?
R2 runs into his leg, interrupting his thoughts.
The Clones were almost done.
Cody is sitting up now, cleaning blood from his blacks and watching as Wolffe lay motionless under the scanner.
“Hello Commander.” Luke says, and immediately regrets it. He sounds ridiculous, attempting military formality, but Cody just laughs softly.
“Hello kid.” His voice is stronger now, no hiss with each breath.
“I’m glad to see you’re feeling better.”
“Yeah, the machine still had some batca shots left. Expired or not, they seemed to do the trick.” Cody was much friendlier than the others, Luke muses, and hopes that maybe Cody would take the led and trust him. Then they could all-
Well Luke wasn’t entirely sure what he was going to do.
“I’m glad.” Luke says, before falling into a relaxed silence. They both watch as the machine hums and glows softly, repairing this, mending that. And before Luke feels like any time has passed, the machine ends, and Wolffe sits up straight.
Rolling his shoulder, he says something to Rex in their language again, and Rex pulls more bandages out of his belt. R2 follows suit and shines his flashlight to assist.
“I’m going to find some food,” Luke says, going over to grab his lightsaber. ”Maybe the mess hall has some ration bars leftover, I’ll be right back.”
Luke absentmindedly summons his saber back to its original state, and ignites the blade. Once again the green-white glow illuminates his face.
“How about I take you down there? Let R2 stay with the boys and I’ll show you around.” Cody says, getting up to join him. “If you don’t mind.”
“Oh, sure.” Luke replies, thankful to have the company. “I'd appreciate your help.”
The walk to the mess hall was comfortable. Cody was personable, and polite enough. Luke could relax slightly, it seemed someone “in charge” was finally available.
The mess hall was massive, with endless tables and flickering lights, it seemed to be half working. Although most of the food was long expired, and the refrigerators reeked and oozed. But the cabinets held endless ration bars, and although they were a little dry, Cody said they were edible.
“Why don’t you sit? Let Wolffe and Rex finish up.” Cody says, gesturing to a table, “I could use a change of scenery anyway.”
“Oh, alright.” Luke tries to hide his relief at not going back to the medical bay, but knows he fails miserably.
“Luke Skywalker huh?” Cody says, as he sits, looking at Luke with a strange glint in his eye.
“So I’m told.” Luke smiles, and Cody laughs.
“Jedi Master?”
“Oh no, I’m barely a Knight.” Luke laughs and Cody smiles. “I’d rather talk about you if you’re willing. I have so many questions about the War and-“
“How about this,” Cody says, cutting off Luke’s rambling “You get to ask me a question, and then I get to ask you a question.”
“Can I go first?” Luke says a little too quickly. But Cody just laughs.
“Yeah sure you can go first.”
“What’s a Marshal Commander?”
“You’re really not a military kid huh?” Cody raises an eyebrow, and Luke shrugs.
“Not really. I leave most of that to Leia.”
“Marshal Commanders are in charge of corps level formations, or system armies if you’re unlucky.” Cody grins, and Luke smiles back.
“What’s a system army?”
“My turn.” Cody corrects.
“Oh right.”
“So Anakin is your father?” Cody says, and Luke tries not to freeze. Of course Cody knew Anakin, they both served in the Clone Wars. Besides, how many Skywalkers could one clone know?
“Yes. But I didn’t really know him if that’s what you’re asking. We only met a few times, and we didn’t get to talk much.”
“Why not?”
“My turn.” Luke smiles.
“What’s a System Army?”
“A way of dividing the Republic’s military. There were 10 system armies in the Republic. I’m Marshal Commander of the Third Systems Army. Or I guess I was.”
“Is that who’s on this ship? Your men?” Luke asks, hoping Cody will let a half question slide.
“Good catch. Each Army was frozen and transported together.” Cody pauses, picking at the ration bar in his hand. “Around 400,000 clones in each ship.”
“That means,” Luke stops himself and does a quick calculation in his head, “That means there were four million clones all together. By the Force….”
“At the end of the war.” Cody stops again. “There were more of us before.”
Luke grimaces.
“My turn.” Cody says, and his face sets in a thin line. The sense shifts in the room, as if they were only playing games before. Luke can feel a chill through the Force, and his blood runs cold. “Why won’t you call for backup?”
Luke freezes, his heart beating wildly in his ears. Gone was all pretense and jokes, Cody’s face seemed frightening now. With hard set lines and deep eyes that fell forever, Luke can’t speak.
He had walked right into a trap.
“I’m not stupid, and neither are you.” Cody smiles, but it’s not friendly anymore, “You’ve got a nice routine going on. Big sad eyes and deflecting everything. Asking easy questions and giving easy answers.”
“I don’t-“ Luke tries to interrupt, but Cody ignores him, and keeps talking.
“But you're in way over your head.” Cody leans on the table, staring at Luke with a gaze that pierces his heart. “You’re no General. You’re not a soldier or a leader. You’re just a kid.”
Cody grabs Luke’s lightsaber on the table, and spins it mindlessly in his hand, with the skill of a Jedi Master. With the knowledge of someone who has held a thousand sabers, with the indifference of someone who has faced a thousand terrible weapons.
Luke wants to retrieve it, but something in his heart says Cody can use it better than he can.
“Now I’ve known many Generals. Your sister? The one you were whispering with on the holo? That’s a General. It’s written on her face. She would know what to do right now. She’s seen battle and she’s made hard choices, and yet, you said nothing to her. You kept your mouth shut and lied to your own flesh and blood.”
Luke feels his stomach twist. He hated lying to Leia, and Cody had seen that and pulled the thread until everything had come undone.
“My brothers are dead in the cargo bay. My flesh and blood. And the longer we sit around doing nothing, more of them die. More lights go out and more of my brothers rot.” Cody has a deadly cold to his voice, like a dead star. Even as he speaks of death and destruction, his face is still.
“So I’ll ask you one last time.” Cody pauses, and sets the saber on the table in front of him. Just out of Luke’s reach, and just close enough to wield. “Why won’t you call for backup?”
Luke casts his gaze down to the ration bar in his hands, unable to look Cody in the face anymore.
A kid, in way over his head.
“What if the galaxy hasn’t changed?” Luke whispers finally, his voice soft and cracked. “What if, what if politicians are still selfish?”
He looks up at Cody again, his heart pulling and twisting in his chest. He can’t stop the wave that tries to drown him. In the back of his mind he can still hear them, every clone in the cargo hold, trapped in grief and fear. Begging to be free. He feels it like it was his own, and now it crashes over him like a wave.
“What if they want to freeze you again? What if the council tells me to put you back in stasis? What if they still don’t care about you?” Luke’s voice cracks again, and he can feel the tears stuck in his throat. “What would I do then? What could I do then? How could I let that happen to you?”
Luke breathes heavily, staring at Cody now, his mind is too fogged to reach out with the Force. His chest pulls and pushes and the weight of it all makes it feel like an effort.
“What am I supposed to do?” Luke asks finally, feeling wet tears track down his face. “Tell me, please just tell me what to do because I don’t know Cody, I don’t know how to save you.”
Cody is quiet for a long time. The dim glow of Luke’s saber shines on his face, creating deep shadows and twisted expressions.
“Back in the days of the Republic. I served with many Jedi.” Cody starts at last, “and they let me freeze Luke.”
Luke can feel his heart stop, and his hands shake. The wave is back, the grief. The loneliness. The emptiness. But Cody’s face is still plain, if he felt grief, it was buried.
“The senate didn’t need us anymore, and the Jedi let us go. Because that’s what they do. No attachment. Be ready to let go when the time comes” Cody stares at Luke’s saber. “I’m not saying I blame them. Politics are politics.”
“Rex thought Ahsoka would come back for us. He told me Ahsoka would help us.” Cody says, gaze distant. “She was like a sister to him and Wolffe.”
Luke feels the tide of the waves pull back, before the weight of it all crushes him again as Cody says,
“So tell me Luke Skywalker, if we were lost for 25 years, why are you the only Jedi who came looking for us?”
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stararch4ngell4dy · 23 hours ago
Fair Trades- Silco x GN!Reader
I don’t really know what to caption this as, it’s just something I came up with. I mean the man’s hot, and your girl got a little feels going on sooo, yeah, enjoy.
Warning: TW abuse, struggles with past abuse. Hurt/comfort. Soft Silco cause it’s cute. It’s hard trying to talk like him though. Like damn. lol
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“You’re doing it again.”
Your head rose from your blurred reflection on the colorful glass of his office, turning your attention to the owner of such a smooth voice. His face was stoic, lack of any form of emotion. You never really favored pointing out how his scars made it a little difficult to see his facial expressions, but there he stood. A statue you’d fall to your knees to, a man who gave you sanctuary before any god could get the chance to pay attention to your prayers.
He found you in his office, a place you favored for its silence. At least when you were alone in it.
“Doing..? I’m not doing anything. Just standing here.”
“I know what you’re doing.” The door had long since shut behind him. The only one who’d come into his office unannounced was Jinx, but she was off doing gods knows what somewhere. Doing what she does best…
He approached you, walking around the only physical thing standing in his way from you. The floor creaked lightly from his boots, the faint light from the slightly sheltered moon creeping in, doing nothing compared to a lit lamp. “Thinking of the darkness that plagues your mind will only strain it worse, I won’t allow you to continue on this way any longer.
What a strange statement, especially from him. You’ve listened to hours and hours of Silco speaking of his past, pronouncing his thoughts in smoke ring littered mutters up until the late hours of the night. It wasn’t like that every night.
“It’s hard.” You admitted, your throat muscles burning when you struggled to keep it together. “It’s hard… I shouldn’t be thinking about it anymore. I killed them, I stabbed their necks and their faces, I killed those responsible for doing all of that to me. I should be happy that it won’t happen to me anymore, but I can’t be.”
You exhaled, closing your eyes in a petty attempt to stop the tears.
“I should be happy, but I can’t let it go. They took things from me that I’ll never get back.”
“Tell me what they took.” Silco proceeded, watching your eyes open as you stared at your faint reflection in the glass once more. You’ve had this conversation before, and he always encouraged you to speak it. Something about letting it out is much better than holding it all in.
“My voice,” You began, “My.. they took.. they took time from me. They took my right to think and choose, they took my thoughts. They stole my right as a human being and implanted an obedient dog in its place.”
“Dogs fight back when they’ve had enough,” He lightly mused, placing his hand on your shoulder. “Look at me. Look at me as your own person, not as a dog being told what to do.”
How you came into Silco’s company was a strange coincidence. Your captors owed large debts and scrambled to deliver payments, and one day you became witness of said payment gone horribly wrong. Something they had done went wrong, and a massive explosion took place, injuring almost everyone. Luckily, you were standing behind someone who was way more injured from the blast. The explosion was unknown to this day to you, a deal gone wrong, a fight breaking out that was too quick for you to process, or a rigged deal trade, but it mattered little now.
You had something of value to those abusers who kept you, who’ve harmed you and made you feel lesser than a human being. Their selfish, cruel acts have left scars along your body and your mind, ones that no matter how hard you could try to forget, no pure will or substance of any kind would allow you to forget that type of pain. You never knew why they did those things to you, you didn’t even know their real names or how you exactly ended up in their company. All you knew was revenge had been stirring up in your mind ever since. Either that, or death.
Slico didn’t exactly save you. No, he found you laying hell on your captors, using any sharp object you could find on the ground to stab them in their face and necks, gauging out their eye sockets, plunging through their skulls to mutilate their useless brains.
One of the last few things you could remember from that night was hearing an odd set of foot steps behind you, forcing you to turn and defend yourself with said piece of broken metal. Last thing you expected to see was him along with his strange company, holding his own piece of sharpened metal and a fairly wide eyed expression on his face, all while blood dripped from yours. You had to admit, at first he looked rather terrifying, like a crooked beast that haunts a child’s wonderland dreams before twisting into nightmares.
You were much better off now. That night, Silco put his blade down on the ground and proceeded to unbutton his vest, pulling off the garment to hand to you. That action made you question what you were to do with it, all while being afraid to touch it. It was lovely fabric, and he wanted you to take it with your blood stained hands.
“It’s alright.” His voice almost spooked you the first time you heard it. It was so smooth.. and gentle, despite his physique. He kneeled down on one knee in front of you, watching you stare at his vest without a clue of what to do with it.
“What happened here? Can you tell me?”
You told him everything then and there, finally getting the chance to speak for yourself, all while the man took back his vest only to clean your hands of blood, noticing your hands were cut from how harshly you gripped the rusted shard. Your hands were incredible to him, how could someone’s hands be so scarred from intensive work be so supple in his hands? Like the petals of a flower..
“They got what they deserved.” He then said after ripping the fabric to bind your wounds, which made you real confused. You barely met him, and in minutes he’s given you more than anyone else has given you in a long time. The rest became history when you joined and grew in the sanctum of his company. The more you grew as a person, the more respect and adoration you held for this man. Surprisingly, it was returned. Or maybe it was unsurprising, it’s not like he took in every victim he sympathized with. Last person you remember him showing that much compassion for was Jinx, the little girl you couldn’t help but feel sorry for as the crew found her in the middle of a field of unspoken war at the time, just like you were.
Silco had that tendency to pick blooming flowers in the field of war, but if anything, he did a fair job in preserving your color. He sipped and cherished your precious nectar like fine wine that could only be allowed to breathe in the glasses of high society, ran his calloused fingers gently over your fire scorched petals that were healing from rot, keeping you tucked away and secure in his breast pocket, succumbing you to the patter of his heartbeat that was only yours to hear.
And so you looked at him, seeing his lip slightly curl after a matter of moments. “Look at you. I didn’t see a dog that night, I saw the remnants of a failed deal with a prize waiting in the center, fighting for their own freedom.”
A prize. Would that be another silly name he had for you now? He always compared you to valuable items: a Diamond, the gem of his eye, the moon in his sky, the star of his night, the silver to his tongue.. they were odd, to say the least.
Of course, he had his more personal ones in private. His dear, his darling, his blooming flower, his blushing sweetheart. He whispered that in your ear as he fell in love with the sight of your body resting along white sheets, your flushed face ignited in the moonlight on the eve of one night.
“Please,” He muttered, approaching you closer until you were but a few inches away from his face. Away from the stale sapphire and fiery ruby that created his eyes, staring down at you with nothing but pure love and genuine concern for you.
“Don’t trouble yourself with this anymore now. You’re free, and you’re here with me, my sweet. Right now, you live on stronger than before knowing you had the final verdict on those who harmed you. That makes you absolutely perfect.” His voice cut off when his lips met yours, a kiss shared in the passion of the tender moment, making your heart soar faster than those tiny iridescent birds that never stopped buzzing.
“I’m scared, Silco.” Your soft voice broke the kiss by the time his fingers trailed up to caress your cheeks. His eyes gazed into yours once again, but he didn’t speak. It was almost as if he knew, giving you a solemn look as if he was capable of reading your thoughts.
As much as you loved him, you were afraid of it happening all over again. What if this was some sort of Stockholm syndrome? What if you were seeing these signs as love, but in all honesty it was just another one of his games? You were no fool to his reputation, but maybe you were a fool to his mind games. His looks matched his personality: half man, half beast, you wondered which side of him was the one that truly loved you.
“I would be a fool to lie to you, my perfection. I’ve had many opportunities for it, but giving my truth is the best gift I can offer you.” He spoke what sounded like pure, honest truth. It’s like he was pronouncing that he would never betray your trust, not fearing at all that you would betray his.
“Truths can also be painful.”
“That’s fair, but for a truth to accompany many countless lies hurts far worse. Therefore, you’re free of me ever delivering you that pain.”
“You promise?” You looked into his eyes, his scars unable to hide the modest adoration in his facial expressions. His hands cradled your head, thumbs once again brushing over your cheeks to signal a rush of blood to warm them up.
“My word is forever etched into the heart I’ve placed into your hands.” His thumb brushed away a small tear. “And in exchange, you’ve allowed me to hold the world in mine. I see that as a fair trade.”
He’s said before that the world isn’t perfect, that it’s body was littered with countless scars, but in the end the world ‘would be ours,’ and it’s only natural to want to take care of it.
The trauma you suffered from gave you countless reasons to leave this world, but little did you know that you’ve now become a main reason for one man to want to change it for the better, at least in his personal perspective.
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The Escape
(The Bartender Part 2)
Summary: As a criminal, it’s best not to befriend the heroes meant to stop you. Yet you do, but they can only be kept separate for so long
Word Count: 3706
Warnings: Swearing just right off the bat, murder
A/N: The Part 2 where everything goes down. It’s kind of the end, but open to more parts, so if anyone has any suggestions just comment or send an ask and I’ll work with that :)
Part 1
“Oh FUCK” you repeated, louder. There was no need to pretend Alexei was in charge anymore. You groaned, tilting your head back so you faced the ceiling, until you turned on Ralph. “You dumbass! you recognise her, right? And you didn’t think to tell her before you brought her here? Come. On. Ralph!” you exhaled slowly, running your hands over your face. This complicated things a lot.
“Superheroes and crime bosses don’t exactly get along, so what am I meant to do with her?”. Looking the Avenger up and down, your eyes focused in on her cuffed hands, and the small pin she had clasped between them. Alexei eyed you nervously as you reached forward and snatched it from her.
“She knows too much now, you can’t let her go and expect her not to bring SHIELD down on our asses”, the man contemplated, “there’s only one option to not get all of us beaten up and thrown in jail for life”
“She’s- she was my friend. Alexei” you emphasised, “we’re not killing her”
“Then what? We all hand ourselves over?”
You perched on the edge of the desk, groaning in frustration. As far as you could tell, there weren’t many options. Plus she was a world renowned spy for a reason, you doubted a small pin was the only trick she had up her sleeve. Keeping her captive wasn’t going to work for long.
“Alexei, can you guard the room please. Ralph, go back to your patrol, but bring anyone else to the cells, not here”. They nodded, and soon it was just you and the red-head in the office. You leant back against the desk, hands either side of your torso to support you as you stared down the Avenger.
“So this was your mission?” you asked, breaking the silence. A nod. “Did you know? That it was me?”
She shook her head, “I knew it was related to the bar, but I didn’t- didn’t think you’d be a part of this. Assumed you were just some innocent party who happened to work at the front of all this”, she couldn’t indicate with her hands, so she rolled her head instead.
“I’m not so innocent” you shrugged,
“So what was the actual mission?” you probed,
“It’s still classified” she answered with a smirk
“And I’m part of the classification now, so you can tell me”
“That’s not how it works”
“It is in my books. And I’m not the one who’s all tied up”
She shot a glare after your condescending words, but sighed and relented, “SHIELD got word of your... business. I was supposed to get recruited, find out what I could about what this place did, who works here, all that stuff. Then call in SHIELD so they could come in and make some arrests.”
“Now that wasn’t so hard” you teased, pushing yourself up to a standing position. A plan was beginning to form in your mind as you took a seat behind your desk and pulled the laptop closer.
“You know I did value you as a friend, before you found out about what I do and all” you confessed, keeping her attention slightly distracted from what you were doing, “so I would really like not to have to hurt you”
“I would really like not to have to get hurt” she said drily,
“great, glad to see we’re on the same page. Just sit tight for a few hours and we can keep on it.”
You turned your attention away from the screen, making eye contact for the first time since you sat down. “Have you called them yet?”
“SHIELD, the Avengers, whoever”
“your men took everything I had before they brought me up here. I couldn’t if I wanted to”
You pulled the pin out from your pocket and held it up for her, “they missed this though, didn’t they? And you’re not an Avenger for nothing, you shouldn’t have let me see it unless you had another plan. Making me lower my guard or something?”
“Did you consider that I was off my game because my friend and regular barkeeper turned out to be a crime boss?”
“No, because I think you’re better than that”
“You overestimate me”
“Better than underestimating”
“That’s what my career is based on”
A quick glance at you screen showed that the work was done. “So is mine” you agreed, pulling the USB from the computer and leaving her alone in the room.
“Clean up required?” Alexei asked as soon as the door shut, the soundproofing had prevented him from hearing what happened inside.
“I said we’re not killing her. And even if we did, SHIELD would come for us and the world would be down a hero, what would be the point?”
“So what are we doing?”
You held the USB out for him to take, “fake IDs and house plans” you explained, “I need you to print them out properly and give them out, plus the cash in the basement. It should be enough for everyone who’s identity might be compromised to start a new life, hide from SHIELD.”
“You want us to just go?”
You nodded, “scatter. I promised to protect you all and this is the only way I can now that we’re on SHIELD’s radar. The only solution where we don’t all go to jail.”
“Then this is goodbye?”
“Yeah” you smiled sadly, “I’m going to stall for time so that you can all establish yourselves. Go together at first, you all know the plan to avoid detection, but you might need to help the rookies out. I’ll be fine but... it’ll be too risky for me to ever try to find any of you” your voice broke into a whisper at the last part, and you were unexpectedly having to fight off tears. Your main circle had been a group for over a decade, you’d seen their marriages, you’d seen them have children. You’d worked together and trusted each other in a way that none of you could with others. They were and always would be your family.
Alexei was the one to initiate the hug. “Tell the others goodbye from me, yeah?” you smiled, “ and stay safe”.
He nodded, tears in his own eyes. You turned back to the door, and he ran off towards the printing room. It took a moment for you to compose yourself, to return to a neutral expression before pushing back into the room. You were pleasantly surprised to see Natasha still sat and bound. Sitting back at the desk, you began to work on deleting everything from the system while you could.
Glancing up at the surveillance cameras every now and then, it was clear the message and documents were being spread around the building. You wondered if they thought it was about the opposing group, who had still yet to attack, maybe they were never going to in the first place.
“You looking for someone?” Natasha’s voice broke you out of your thoughts,
“Got a tip someone would attack tonight. Plus now you’re here I have to keep an eye out for SHIELD too”
“I see”
Hours later and the files were gone, but you were still in the room, pacing behind the desk as you built up the courage for the next stage of the plan. Trying to find the right words to not tip Natasha off to what you’d done.
Movement on the cameras caught your eye. The base had been completely emptied already, so it had to be suspicious. A group of 12, all dressed in black and armed with semi-automatic rifles, were attempting to sneak up through the basement. It was honestly a pretty rubbish plan and, had the base not been evacuated, they would have posed no problem at all.
You swivelled the screen around, showing it to Natasha, “are these your people?”. It crossed your mind that it wasn’t the best idea to show your hostage the floorplan and camera positions of the whole building, but then again, you wouldn’t be using it for much longer.
“They’re not SHIELD” she confirmed,
“And they’re not dressed in gaudy costumes, so it’s clearly not the Avengers” you muttered quietly, earning a glare from the assassin. “I’m not wrong, you and Clint are the only ones who wear black, and that’s just cos you’re SHIELD too”
You watched as the group crowded outside your door. Clearly they’d gotten enough information from their insiders to know their way around.
“I’ve been thinking” you began, “I can’t keep you captive”
The door opened. The room was purposefully designed that the door blocked you from view; they had to be in the room before they could see you and shoot. You shot first, a bullet to the head taking the first person down.
“And I definitely can’t kill you”
Another infiltrator, another dead body in your doorway. You dragged Natasha’s chair behind the desk, shielding her from any shots they might fire. By the fourth shooter they’d begun to aim wherever your last shot came from. You moved every time, walking silently until you were facing the open doorway. A pistol in each hand, you fired before they could even register where in the room you were.
“So I’m handing myself over” you finished, nudging the twelve corpses with your shoe to ensure none of them were faking death.
“You’re what?!” Natasha exclaimed
“You heard me, I’m handing myself over, what other choice do I have?”
“Run away? You could easily get away before I break free”
“But for how long? You just watched me kill a dozen people, I don’t think SHIELD will just let me walk away with my life... a life in prison isn’t that appealing if I’m being honest, but I can’t run forever.”
You didn’t actually have the keys for Natasha’s handcuffs, so you had to kneel behind her and pick it yourself. “I don’t really understand you” she questioned
“I meant what I said, that I did consider you all as my friends” you explained, “so I’d rather not waste your time searching for me. And I would rather let you capture me than a bunch of random SHIELD guys. I don’t want to boost their egos like that”
Natasha stretched her wrists once the cuffs fell off, then turned around and pinned your hands behind your back, snapping the metal on.
“Your name is actually Y/N Y/L/N, right?”
“You used your real name?”
“It’s just a lot simpler. I mean, it’s not like my name was my downfall, was it?”
“Still quite a risky move”
“I’ll keep that in mind for jail”
“But in that case. Y/N Y/L/N, you are officially under arrest”
You were handcuffed to a desk in an interrogation room. Not like your version, but an actual legal one where they’re not meant to hurt you. Natasha walked in, taking the seat opposite you,
“You know I hadn’t actually called anyone” she sighed, “nor did I have a plan to escape. You could have run and SHIELD wouldn’t have come after you until at least tomorrow evening.”
“Well I guess I misjudged you” you frowned, “I don’t suppose there’s time for you to let me free and I can get to running away”
“Not today Y/L/N”
“Oh, so later then?” you joked and she smirked.
“You handing yourself in did get you some benefits, but you’re still going to be in a SHIELD cell for several lifetimes”
“It’s what happens when you’re in charge of a group that steals countless unique artefacts and murders anyone who so much as looks at them the wrong way”
“...we also sell drugs”
“oh my god”
“Look, it’s not like I’m pretending to be good. I admit to plenty of wrongdoings.”
“No, that’s it”
She sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose, “you’re still my friend, the same person who I taught self-defence to, even though it’s clear to me now that you already knew it-”
“Yeah I did”
“-so if you answer our questions I’ll do my best to cut you a deal. You’re clearly skilled at fighting, and you managed to fool me, along with the whole Avengers team, into thinking you were innocent. You’d be a great asset to SHIELD, maybe even the Avengers if they can trust you enough”
You let the idea dwell, before asking hesitantly, “and if I don’t want to answer the questions?”
“Then it’s a life behind bars”
“Sounds inviting... what are the questions?”
“Any information you can give on your co-workers”
The smirk washed off of your face. “I don’t know where they’ve gone and I wouldn’t rat them out even if I did” you answered seriously, “so I’ll take the cell thank you Romanoff.”
“I just want to help you, you’d do great” she pleaded, but you shook your head,
“If you were captured by the enemy, they asked you to sell out the Avengers for some favours, would you do it?”
“We’re not the enemy though Y/N”
You looked obviously down at the handcuffs, then back up at her, raising an eyebrow and shrugging.
“Sure you’re not”
“We’re really not” she urged, getting frustrated when you leant back and shrugged. “You trusted us when we invited you over to the tower, told you all about our weeks every time we came to the bar, to get served... by you.
“I trusted you all, yeah. But I trust my family more and I wouldn’t betray the trust they have in me”
“What if I told you we found one of your friends. And he was more than happy to sell you out.”
She got up silently and walked out of the room, door slamming behind her. Unconcerned, you rested your head on the table, hoping that even with the awkward position you could get some sleep. It had been a while.
“I’d say you were bluffing” you replied in an instant, “you didn’t catch anyone or you wouldn’t be so set on getting a deal with me”
The slight pause after your words told on her. You’d called her bluff and been successful.
Unfortunately that was not to be, a group of agents bursting into the room a few minutes later to move you. Escorting you through numerous corridors, into a can, through more corridors, until eventually you were pushed into another cell.
Your bed wasn’t the comfiest, but it was still a bed, and you weren’t sharing a cell. Not yet at least. So you got your rest while you could, woken up the next morning by your cell door opening.
He loitered by the door as you sat up, rubbing the sleep from your eyes.
“Captain” you greeted, he nodded in return. The room was silent for a minute until he spoke. “I really trusted you”. He sounded hurt.
You looked down, playing with your hands. “I know you did” you whispered, the joking tone you had used with Natasha gone from your voice. You coughed, “so are you here to offer me a deal too?”
“No. Natasha reckons nothing we say will make you sell anyone out, and I’m inclined to believe her”
“So why are you in my cell?”
“To ask why”
“Why I won’t sell out my team? I think that’s obvious”
“No” he said softly, “why you befriended us when you knew who we were... and who you are. Was it a trick? So we’d take pity when this eventually happened?”
You lay back down, Steve cautiously moved to perch on the chair in the corner. “It was never a trick Steve, there was no plan, or reason, or anything. You all just came in one day and were just genuinely nice and fun to be with... Plus I truly thought I wouldn’t get caught.” You added the last part with a smirk, deflecting from the emotions you hadn’t meant to show. He saw through it though, of course he did, he lived with Natasha.
“It’s almost a shame you thought wrong then”, you shrugged and he sighed, standing up to leave. “I’ll see you around then Y/N”
“You know where I’ll be” you answered with a thumbs up.
Tony visited later that day. Clint and Wanda the day after. Steve did come again, a few days after his first visit, to ask why you’d gone into crime in the first place.
“Is this a conversation just to keep me company, or is that a serious question?”
“It’s a serious question. You always looked like you were a good person, and yet you kill and steal and break so many laws.”
You tilted your head, “you’re famously a good person, no? Weren’t you on the run from the government a couple of years ago? Bringing down the helicarriers was a serious case of destruction of public property”
“If I hadn’t done that billions of people would have died. I break laws for the good of people.”
“And the money I make goes straight towards supporting my team. I donate a lot of it to charities too. That’s for the good of the people”
“It’s not the same thing. And you kill people”
“My morals may be a little fuzzier than yours, but they’re still there. You kill HYDRA soldiers, aliens, anyone you consider a threat. So do I, just a smaller scale; abusers, murderers.”
Steve stilled, thinking your words over, then nodded rigidly. “I’ll talk to Fury. I don’t think you’re a threat to us and neither does Nat, so you might as well have free range of the compound rather than just this cell.”
You smiled softly and thanked him. You stiffened when he pulled you into a hug, but later relaxed into it, he was a nice guy, and you missed being part of the Avengers’ friend group. The hug, however did remind you of your team, and your parting hug with Alexei. Steve noticed the change in atmosphere when you pulled away, frowning as he analysed the saddened look on your face. 
“Isn’t that meant to be a good thing? Leaving this room?”
You schooled your features quickly before replying, “oh it definitely is, just miss my family is all”
“And by family, you mean...”
“I mean my co-workers yes, whose locations I don’t even know anymore” you admitted
“We haven’t found any of them, you know. I reckon they’re all safe” Steve comforted, unwittingly giving you the information necessary for the next part of your plan.
“And I hope they can stay that way”
“If they stay out of trouble then they probably will”
“Thank you Steve, for everything. For the talk, and just generally being friendly and all, I missed it”
“Anytime. I’ll come check on you tomorrow, let you know what the higher ups say” and with that he walked out, leaving you alone with your thoughts once more. Steve’s offer put you in a predicament; you already had a plan to escape. 24 hours max and you’d be totally free, but then on the run from SHIELD, having to move constantly to avoid detection. Whereas it was possible that you could do it a legal way, slowly work yourself into more trust, until eventually you’re allowed to just live a normal life again. It would take time, but once you were free you would truly be free.
The decision ran through your mind all night, but as soon as you saw Steve the next day, the choice was made for you. His expression shouted that it would be bad news before he could even tell you verbally. 
“He said we can’t show special treatment. Just because we knew you before, we’re can’t let it influence our trust.” You nodded mutely, and he left after a much shorter conversation than the previous day. Escape it was then.
Towards midnight you stood up, heading for the bathroom in the corner. You knew there was a camera inside, they didn’t trust you enough for there not to be, but it was at least still a separate room. Which meant there would be a split second where they would have to switch which camera they were watching. And in that split second, you activated your powers, disappearing completely from sight while you doubled back towards the door. You really hoped the cameras weren’t infra-red. 
Shouts from the corridor. Yep, it had definitely worked. A moment later the cell door was swung open, a trio of guards entering the tiny space to search for you, as if they couldn’t see the whole room from the doorway, protocol you guessed. Either way, it helped you, and you managed to rush through the door as it shut, the blaring alarms hiding any sound you might make.
You didn’t know your way through the compound, but getting caught wasn’t much of a worry. Following the various guards and workers who were scuttling around allowed you to get through every doorway, until eventually you happened upon what seemed to be the main entrance for the building. 
“What do you mean she’s gone?” a familiar voice asked, making you snap your head up. You’d been stood at the door for at least ten minutes, and no-one had come or gone. Through the glass you could see Natasha stalking in, pointedly glaring up at Steve.
“I don’t know, the guards said she just vanished”
“We’ll look at the tapes, they must have made a mistake. She can’t have gone. I trusted her”
“So did I” Steve sighed, as the pair of them swung the doors wide open, perfect for you. But still, guilt ate through you at their disappointed tone; you knew Steve’s trust was hard to get after SHIELD, and Natasha’s even harder, so betraying it was the last thing you wanted to do.
“I’m sorry” you muttered softly, sprinting between the closing doors. One side caught you ever so slightly, but you were still out of the building and running before anyone could catch you.
“She’s enhanced” Steve realised, staring at the place he was sure he’d just heard your voice come from. Natasha, however, kept her eyes on the door.
“And she’s gone.”
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imlonelyalt · 2 days ago
Lemme send a request if youre still taking any ;)
Viktors last moments with reader, like written in maybe segments of each memorable moments that both had
every memory reminds me of you
viktor x reader
warnings : angst, death 😞👎
a/n: VIKTOR ANGST VIKTOR ANGST <33 i hope you meant like this, like he is dying while beside them and like is having memories of when you were with him?? also the vi story so hard to write so i might write some headcanons? i’m sorry guys 💔☹️ okay so, i didn’t really know how to finish this and i was too scared i would make it like my other one — i hope this is okay
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there was always something so nice about waking up in the mornings with you, residing in the comfort of his bed, your bed. the way everything was warm, your bodies so dangerously close, attitude tender. he would always wake up first, usually to get straight to working in the lab, but some days he couldn’t just bring himself to. especially since he knew he didn’t have much time left, so he had to cherish it, cherish you before everything was gone. he always wished he had stayed for just a bit longer, because waking up in a bleak hospital room was just so much different for his liking.
although he remembered everything, he felt so far away from touching you. brushing your thumb over his hand, you felt a tear slip from your cheek. you were living off the slow beeping of the monitor, you were aware there wasn’t much time left to spend with him.
‘do you remember…’ eyes opening at his voice, which broke the empty silence that filled the room, listening intently at his weak voice.
‘when we walked on the dock?’ a mature, solemn smile returned to your face. he hoped it would last just for a while longer. but you did remember it, and so vividly too. you went for a stroll to stop viktor from hunching over his experiment any longer. you worried that was what killed him- his pure dedication. you noticed he would spare glances at the water occasionally, enjoying the scenery of piltover. that day, you sparked up something in him. perhaps it was admiration, or something deeper. something he couldn’t explain, but it felt nice. you aided him, keeping his crutch handy on you and help him walk momentarily. his limp foot slipping, he brought both of you down onto the wood dock. but you didn’t care, you were worried about him.
and yet, when you turned him up to face you, his eyes were closed, face scrunched before his amber gaze pierced into you. and then, you heard it — mellow and soft, he laughed.
‘you helped me walk,’ he commented, as if reminiscing beside you too. ‘something no one else has tried to do before — and even though it was for a few moments, it worked. i have never been more gra—‘ leaning up slightly, he cut himself off by coughing, looking away from you. his lips curled into a tight frown at the sight of your smirk disappearing. he was making you feel bad, but he knew what you were feeling was different to what he was imagining.
breath slowing, viktor let his head sink into the pillow behind him. he looked at you with his bright, glowing eyes. with a single look, he always seemed to be able to know how you were.
after a deep breath, he replied. ‘yes, my love?’
‘i’m scared.’ he grasped your hand.
‘was this not expected, though..?’ he sighed, closing his eyes as you brushed a few of his chestnut locks away from his face, taking a moment to admire his features. ‘in winter, you would always wrap me up tight in blankets so i couldnt get up out of bed to go work on my inventions.’ his grip loosened. he always found a way to make you feel better, most of the time by changing the conversation. — changing it to a memory, something that you did together.
‘and it worked.’
he laughed, before breaking off into a fit of coughs. ‘yes, yes it did.’ he finally said. ‘i trust jayce to continue hextech… and have it fulfill the purpose that it was intended to in the first place.’ glancing at you. ‘i trust you, to keep on going without me, too.’ leaning down to his face, you pressed a gentle kiss to his lips.
‘goodbye, dove.’ cradling his face with your hand, you felt something warm, something damp. a tear. wiping his eyes, you buried your face in his hair gently. your hand remained on his cheek, the monitor being your only sign of whether he still had consciousness. he was slipping away, but it was only a matter of time — however that didn’t mean he wasn’t sad, you gave him enough encouragement to fully believe that he had made a change, not just to hextech but to your life too.
he loved you, and he regretted not showing it more than what he did.
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timottea · 14 hours ago
heeeey! could i request smth for timothee. maybe he met y/n through their mutual friends, start hanging out with her and slowly falling in love with her. thanks ❤️
hiii, sorry this took so long life got crazy and is still crazy! thank you for trusting me with this idea it's so good, it's going to become a series whenever i can updateee ❤️
“you made it!” your friend shrieks, throwing her arms around yet another person whose name you don’t know. you don’t mind, she’s always been a social butterfly, and her housewarming was always bound to be an affair. but there must be nearly 40 people in her two bedroom apartment and you just need a break from the noise. as the third bottle of champagne spritzes open, you take your chance to find some place quieter.
in the next room, you find shelter between a potted plant and her barren bookcase — you’ll let the bleak shelves slide, after all, she’s only just moved in. there’s a cardboard box labelled BOOKS beside the bookcase, so you have to tear it open, just to help her out.
“curiosity killed the cat, you know,” a voice speaks suddenly. you jump, slamming your head into one of the shelves and seeing stars.
“god! you scared me!” you cry. your hand darts to your head as you turn to face the assailant.
“oh my god i- i- i’m so sorry, oh christ, are you — is your head okay — fuck — i’m so sorry! here, let me —”
the stranger’s hands flap in the space between your two bodies, begging to fix, to comfort, to write you a fucking apology letter.
you take a moment to look at him, to take in the way he shifts his weight from addidas to addidas, to the tuck of his sweats in his socks, to his fluttering hands, the sheer panic on his face, that face!, the curls that fall into his eyes, and curiosity may just kill you after all.
you zone back in and he’s still talking —
“— bad first impression, god, worst first impression, i- fuck, can i get you — i can’t believe this, whatever you need i’ll —”
you tilt your head to the side to observe him, fascinated. he could go on for days, you think, and — even more shocking than the fright he gave you — you’d let him. you could listen to this boyish stranger with the curly hair and wild hands talk for days.
the boy’s eyebrows arch and they’re such a sad angle it makes something in your chest twist. he’s mortified, and stumbling over his words, and you watch a million different emotions flit across his face like a flip book.
“your face is pretty,” you say suddenly, silencing his rambling. you blame the champagne.
he blushes. “oh my god, you absolutely have a concussion.”
you laugh, shoving him playfully. you furrow your eyebrows when he steps closer. “what are you doing? i’m fine.”
“i just- sorry, i just need to check your pupils aren’t weird,” he says, meeting your eyes for a second that feels an awful lot like eternity.
you squint as you focus on the colour of his, finding it impossible to decide. somewhere between green and hazel; they remind you of sunlight streaming through a canopy of leaves.
his eyebrows raise and his lips move and you realise a second too late that he asked you a question.
“huh? sorry, what was that?” you shake your head and immediately regret it. “ow.”
“i said i really think you need to sit down?” the boy repeats, guilt and concern etched across his features. “come on, i think i saw a — oh, yeah, here’s good too.”
he sinks to the floor as well, sitting himself in front of you and the box of books.
“everywhere else is too loud,” you explain, then pry open the box to leaf through your friend’s book collection.
the boy nods, adjusting the ring on his finger as he watches you sort the volumes onto the empty shelves.
“are you sure you're okay?” he asks again.
your fingers still against the spines of the vonneguts. “yeah, honestly, don’t worry about it.”
“hmmm i’m not so sure,” he says. you turn to look at him and register the smirk gracing his lips. “no person free of a concussion would put vonnegut next to whitman.”
your jaw drops. how dare this handsome stranger question your alphabetising! “but that’s the alphabet!” you exclaim, singing, “T U V W!”
he shakes his head, amused, then scoots forwards to mess up your beautiful order. “alphabet is boring. too clinical.”
“you must hate going to book shops, then,” you glare at him and he shoots you a smile that you just want to kiss right off — wait, what?
“oh my god, i bet you draw all over your books,” you gasp, quickly moving the box out of his reach.
he sticks out his tongue.
“and — oh god — i bet you dog ear pages!” you shudder dramatically and he throws his head back laughing.
“whaaaat and you don’t?!” his laughter is contagious and you find yourself dazzled by the light in his eyes, so bright you almost have to look away. but you can’t. the last thing you want to do is look away so you lean forwards, lean closer. you want to make him shine like this with every word you say and you’re really blaming the champagne now.
“so what brings you here? run out of books to destroy?” you say, turning one book over and over in your hands.
the boy grins, amused, then leans back to glimpse the party through the doorway.
“my friend knows almost every person in this building, and, uh, he kind of dragged me out tonight,” he finishes bashfully.
at the raise of your eyebrows he adds, “not that i don’t want to be here, just that i don’t know anybody here.”
you nod, watching as he ducks his head sheepishly and switches the rings around on his fingers.
it’s the champagne that makes you bold. you lean forwards and nudge his leg with yours and his head shoots up to look at you.
“well i'm yn, and it’s nice to meet you,” you say, giving him another nudge for good measure. electricity floods through your veins.
nudging you back, his smile is lopsided when he replies, “well i'm timothée, and likewise.”
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mommyjaeger · 2 days ago
Make me Fade [10]
Summary: After Jean breaks off your long term relationship, your friends recommend a new buzz to you: Eren Jaeger.
Pairings: Jean x fem!reader, Eren x fem!reader
Warnings: Strong language, drug use
Word Count: 3.1k
A/N: Sorry for the wait! can’t wait to hear feedback from you all! thank you again for the support
The remainder of your weekend was spent at Eren’s house. He had let you borrow various sets of clothes from him because you couldn’t stand the thought of going back to Jean’s apartment just yet. You felt kind of bad since he’d be doing extra laundry after you left but he didn’t mind at all because of how cute you looked.
Being with Eren for the whole weekend made all your problems disappear, well it felt like that at least. Your problems were still there waiting for you of course but he made them less memorable.
Though whenever he left your side for even just a second that’s when the thoughts came flooding back to your mind. Without the distraction you had time to thoroughly look through all of Jean’s messages and voicemails.
Holding back the tears was hard but you somehow managed. His desperation made your heart ache. You never gave him the chance to explain himself. You’ve been wanting to talk to him but you weren’t sure if it was right since you were already getting closer to someone new. You needed closure.
Eren was no different than you though. The two of you shared laughs and meaningful conversations but when all of that died down into silence he would look so sad. You wanted to know why but you never asked because he’d probably brush it off.
At this point you were just leeching off of each other’s comfort.
You saw Eren as more than that though but you were scared to express it. One reason being you don’t want to get hurt again, the other being you had no idea how he felt towards you.
The two of you were both hiding something from each other, the thing he was hiding being much more damaging though. But at the moment you both were having fun and finding comfort in each other so why not let fate play this one out on its own?
The following Monday you wake up earlier than usual so you can get a change of clothes from Jean’s apartment before going to class. If you got there in the right time frame you could avoid him since he usually takes an early morning run.
Peeling Eren’s arm off you, you frown from the loss of touch and slowly get up from the bed. Eren hadn’t initiated sex ever since the first time and neither did you. Rarely any kisses either. All he provided was a fellow feeling and warm cuddles, you were more than okay with that.
A loud groan is ripped from Eren’s throat as he notices your presence suddenly disappearing.
“Where are you going?” He asks, his voice deep and groggy from just waking up.
His morning voice catches you at the door and sends chills up your spine.
“I have class.” You simply say, giving him a small pout.
He hums lowly at your response and taps your side of the bed with his slim fingers, looking at you with eyes that you weren’t sure if they were inviting or intimidating.
“Let’s skip. I don’t want you to leave yet.” He replies, almost in a demanding way.
Scoffing lightly at his request, you make your way back to the bed, his green eyes following you every step of the way.
“You’re a bad influence you know.” You roll your eyes and plop back down beside him.
“I’m literally a drug dealer. Did you expect any different?” He pauses with a dry chuckle before pulling you into an embrace.
“Plus I’d be sad if you left. You’d be sad leaving me, no?” He finishes, resting his chin on the top of your head.
“Hmm. Maybe just a little bit.” You admit, voice a bit muffled due to your face being buried in his chest.
Sleep takes over your bodies for a couple of more hours until a constant buzzing coming from Eren’s phone interrupts. You roll over back to “your” side of the bed so he can reach his phone with ease.
A soft whine leaves Eren’s lips as he reaches for his phone, indicating he wasn’t done sleeping and he surely wasn’t done holding you.
The tiredness in his eyes visibly leaves as he reads the messages on the screen.
Eren are you awake?
I want to talk to you…
I’m coming over sometime today.
Without replying, he locks the phone and lays it face down beside him before turning back to you. On the other side, you had no idea what he saw since you were too busy waking up.
“Who was that?” You whisper, rubbing your eyes.
“Oh. Just someone from class wondering why I missed.” He explains in a confident voice but can barely keep eye contact with you.
Noticing his odd eye movement, you begin to open your mouth to speak on it but he stops you by speaking again.
“Let’s go somewhere. I’m tired of being in this house.” He suggests, surfacing a new topic before you could catch him in a lie.
“I don’t have any clothes to wear out.” You try to decline his offer in the nicest way possible.
“We aren’t going anywhere fancy. Pick something from my dresser while I go check on my mom.” He sweetly says before exiting the room.
After the mention of his mom, you find yourself digging through his dresser, unable to deny his offer. Eren comes back into the room a few minutes later to find you dressed in one of his band tees along with black sweatpants that were rolled up a few inches.
A warm smile takes over his face as his eyes scan your body occupying yet another pair of his clothes. He then distracts himself by taking out another set of clothes to wear himself.
“You might as well have my whole wardrobe. You look so cute in my clothes.” He compliments you as he slips his own clothing on.
The want to smile at his compliment is devoured by pain and guilt as you remember Jean literally said the same thing to you a couple of days ago. Why did you feel this way though? He was the one that cheated on you. You weren’t doing anything wrong by being here and getting closer to another guy, you needed to convince yourself of that.
A small frown tugs at the corners of Eren’s lips as he notices his compliment didn’t make you smile. He quickly grabs your hand and pulls you out of the room.
“Let’s go get junk food and ice cream. That always cures sadness right?” He asks, leading you out of the house and to his car.
“What makes you think I’m sad?” You question loud enough for him to hear as he makes his way around the car to the driver's seat.
Opening the door, you settle yourself into the seat and stare at the empty seat on the other side, waiting for him to fill it and answer your question.
“Who said I was talking about you?” His voice abruptly enters the car and he doesn’t even spare you a glance as he starts the car.
A small frown forms on your lips at his answer. The curiosity has been eating away at you all weekend. Why was he so sad? Surely it stemmed from his mom being sick right?
“Why are you sad?” You finally decide to bluntly ask, keeping your gaze on his side profile.
A drawn out sigh leaves his lips as the question enters his ears, his fingers gripping the steering wheel a bit tighter, causing the vinyl to create a quiet noise.
“You know my life kinda sucks right now, Y/n. Though I don’t feel sad right now. With you around me the whole weekend, it’s been easier not to think about it.” He explains with a bitter smile, eyes glued to the road.
What you don’t realize is that Eren was only partially telling the truth. It was true you made him forget about problems he already had, but he had caused new problems with you that you had no idea about. Problems that caused him to feel so guilty every time he looked at your face.
Though Eren was selfish, he didn’t want to let you slip through his grasp yet because he knew you would definitely leave whenever you found out the truth. He wanted to enjoy his time with you while you were stuck in oblivion.
The act couldn’t be seen as completely selfish though. You were enjoying your time with him too. He was helping you forget about your problems just as much as you were helping him. You were just unaware that he was the source of your problem.
“I get it, I feel the same way. Thank you for helping me.” You reply, sending him a genuine smile.
“Don’t thank me.” He blankly says as he pulls into the drive thru line at a fast food restaurant.
You almost physically flinch because of how blunt that sentence was executed. Awkwardly clearing your throat, you decide to stay quiet, unsure how to even reply.
“Wanna tell me what happened to you the other night? Why did you come back to me?” He glances over to you and rolls down the window as his car inches closer to the menu.
With your gaze falling down to your lap, you begin to fiddle with your fingers, lacking confidence in explaining the situation.
“Um. Well after I left your house, I caught my boyfriend Jean cheating on me with some girl named Mikasa.” You pause and direct your eyes back towards him.
“Do you know her?” You interrogate, remembering your past conversation with Ymir and Connie.
Visibly tensing up at your question, Eren is hesitant to open his mouth but slowly does until the fast food worker’s voice blaring through the speaker stops him from continuing.
“What do you want?” He quickly mouths. Your lips press into a thin line as you shake your head.
“I don’t want anything.” You mumble in response, disappointed your question didn’t get answered.
Rolling his eyes, Eren turns back to the open window to order. Your eyes follow his movements, the way his arm loosely rests on top of the door, the way his Adam’s apple bobs up and down as he speaks.
His ethereal appearance was so mesmerizing you practically forgot about the initial question you asked. Eren wasn’t jumping to answer it either. Therefore the car is filled with awkward silence as the order is waited on.
Pulling up to the window, the worker hands Eren two larger orders of fries and two milkshakes. He then hands everything to you and pays. A smile can’t help but take over your lips as you notice he ordered you something without being asked.
The silence from before stays as Eren drives the car towards an abandoned parking lot. He finally breaks it with a deep sigh escaping his lips.
“You should talk to him.” He quietly suggests as he parks the car, finally letting the guilt consume him.
“What?” You perk up at his sentence, confused as to who he was talking about.
“Jean. You should talk to him.” He replies with his voice remaining in the same quiet tone as his eyes linger on the windshield.
“Why should I do that?” You ask, genuinely curious on what he had to say about the situation because you could tell those words were leaving his mouth with difficulty.
“You don’t know his side of it right? I believe everyone deserves the chance to explain themselves just as much as everyone deserves an explanation.” He finally makes eye contact with you, a bitter smile on his lips.
Confusion was the only feeling you can acknowledge at the moment. Why would he want you to hear Jean out? Did he not want to see you anymore? What was his goal here?
“Anyway. You wanna get high and eat this shit?” He doesn’t even give you the chance to reply before he’s reaching over your lap and opening the glove box.
“I want to get high with you one last time before you leave.” He softly admits, pulling a bag of weed and rolling papers out of the box.
“Eren, you know I can just come back and see you at literally any time.” You cock an eyebrow at him.
No response leaves Eren as he is too busy focusing on rolling a blunt. You start to think he was just ignoring you before slowly gazes up to your face, a blank expression plastered on his.
“You’re not going to want to come back to me.”
Your mouth abruptly opens to reply but before a word could leave, he places the blunt in between your lips.
“No questions, let’s just smoke sweetheart.” He smiles and lights the end of the blunt.
Like mentioned before, we’re just letting fate play this out right? You decide not to question him any further as you inhale the smoke into your lungs.
You and Eren pass the blunt back and forth until there’s almost nothing left. You both lean back in your seat, waiting for the effects to settle in.
As soon as the munchies hit, the fries get devoured. Aside from a few stray fries that fell on the floorboard due to you and Eren throwing them at each other to see who could catch the most.
You even showed him how you liked to dip your fries into your milkshake. He looked absolutely mortified at the combination, calling you disgusting until you finally convinced him to try it. You swear you’ve never seen someone look so shocked in your life. He ended up loving it and finished the rest of your fries and milkshake.
After about two hours of sitting in the abandoned parking lot and enjoying each other’s company, Eren decides to drive home.
The two of you get out of the car and you playfully lean all your weight on him, pretending you were too high to balance yourself as he leads you to the door. Truth is you just wanted to be close to him.
Small giggles leave both of your mouths but they immediately die down when he opens his front door. Your eyes land on Mikasa sitting on the couch with her arms crossed.
“Shit.” Eren angrily mumbles to himself with a deep sigh.
Upon seeing each other, your fists clench in anger as you step away from Eren and she suddenly shoots up from the couch. You want nothing more than to punch the bitch but your feet stay planted in the same spot, deciding to let the situation play out in front of you.
“What the fuck are you doing with her, Eren?!” Mikasa raises her voice.
“Why the hell are you here? Aren’t you supposed to be fucking Jean or something?!” You yell back, unleashing all your anger from that night on her.
Her head quickly turns to you, locking eyes with you, she points her finger accusingly at Eren.
“I was only there because of him. Jean and I didn’t even do anything. Eren sent me there! Don’t be dense, Y/n. He’s just using you for money.” Mikasa explains with false sympathy.
“Is that true, Eren?” You quietly ask, trying to remain calm.
Hastily turning towards you, Eren places both his hands on your shoulder and stares at you with pleading eyes.
“I can’t lie to you anymore by saying it’s not true, but it’s not all the truth. Please just let me explain.” He begs, practically on the verge of tears.
The first line was all you needed to hear before you remove his hands off your shoulders and walk out the door without another word. All you can do is walk with a blank expression, you were done crying.
“Don’t you dare chase after her.” Mikasa hisses when she notices Eren’s quick movement to the doorway.
“I’m sorry Mikasa but fuck you for pinning all this on me. You really think I’m gonna have feelings for you after this shit you just pulled? Don’t make me laugh.” He spits back, fists clenched so tightly that his nails were digging into his palms, almost drawing blood.
“If you walk out that door you are going to regret it.” She replies, tears now filling the brims of her eyes.
Without another word Eren runs out the door at a quick pace to catch up with you, leaving Mikasa alone in the house to do nothing but cry.
“Y/n! Please listen!” He shouts from behind you, gaining your attention and causing you to stop on your heels. Without turning around, you begin to finally speak up for yourself.
“It’s okay, Eren.” You pause for a few seconds and Eren’s body fills with instant relief at your sentence. “It’s okay because I was using you too. Everything we did meant nothing to me, I only did it because I was sad.” You manage to choke out, trying to keep the tears from leaving your eyes.
The relief from a few seconds ago diminishes as the rest of your words cascade through his ears. The relief is replaced with nothing but pain as he stands there and watches you walk away. His only desire is to follow you but his body won’t let him for some reason, was that it's way of telling him he deserves this?
He doesn’t know if you were telling the truth or not. The only thing he knows is that he probably lost you for good after that.
The feelings he has for you are quite obvious, he craves you, yearns for you. You were the only thing he wanted to know anymore. The only thing that made him feel okay in his shit situation. But now you are gone, and he realizes that when your figure is no longer visible in the distance. All he can do is be grateful for the small amount of time he spent with you.
“Yeah that’s the address.” Mikasa's voice rings through his ears as she walks out of the house and hangs up the phone.
Eren turns towards her with a barren expression, waiting for her to explain who she was talking to.
“I hope you can get rid of all those drugs you have in there. The police are on their way.” She points back at the house with a menacing smile plastered on her face, a few tears still rolling down her cheeks.
“Are you fucking serious, Mikasa?!” Eren screams, frantically running back into the house.
“I told you, you’d regret it!”
taglist: @usernamehere91 @ushijimasslut @coyloves @littlemochi @sttercutie @dejavukirstein @mamslovebug @sadnessrehab @the-princess-button @tiffanyy-21 @missyasma @moonandflowersfairy
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nocturnalazura · a day ago
Moonlight Love Songs | Dabi x Reader
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Dabi x Fem!Reader
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This is for @katsupeach's Fob Collab. My lyrics were "This is a love song in my own way, Happily ever after below the waist." From Bang the Doldrums. Huge thank you to @boosyboo9206 for betaing this for me!
Summary: You and Touya grew up together, even after he disappears you're still the only one who matters. That is, until he breaks your heart. But maybe the two of you were never meant to be just friends.
Warnings: 18+, minor hurt/comfort, explicit language
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The air around you is filled with the slightly drunken chatter of your fellow bar goers. You sip your drink slowly, eyes looking around the overcrowded bar for a victim. Your sole purpose for coming out tonight was to find a new play thing. A body suddenly drops onto the seat next to you, and a scarred hand plucks your glass from your hand. You keep scanning over the faces of the crowd, not bothering to acknowledge the person next to you.
“Don’t know why you bother coming here. There’s never anyone good here.” Dabi grumbles before tossing back the rest of your drink.
“Is that why you’re here?”
“Now, now, don’t be rude to your best friend, doll.”
“You haven’t been my best friend for years. Honestly, I don’t even consider you a friend.”
“Really now? That’s such a shame, considering that you know just about everything about me.” He taps the glass on the bar, holding up two fingers, and waits for the bartender to hand him two fresh glasses.
“It’s a shame that you decided to be an ass about everything and make me not want to be your friend anymore.”
“I had my reasons and you know that.”
“Doesn’t mean I approve of them.” You grumble before taking the glass from him and downing the amber liquid in one go. Standing up, you finally look at him and shake your head. “I’m over this, see you later.” “You know, you say that, but you never told anyone that I was alive, never let anyone know you knew where I was.” He says as he gets up and follows you out of the bar.
Doing your best to ignore him, you keep heading in the direction of your home. The steady sound of his footsteps behind you slowly annoys you more and more as you go. He keeps his distance, but you can feel his presence behind you every step of the way. As your apartment comes into view you pick up your pace, hoping to finally escape him. You do your best to unlock your door as fast as possible and slip inside, only for his hand to stop the door. Groaning, you give in and step away from the door, allowing him to push it open and wander into your home.
“Nice little home you got here, doll.” He grins as he moves around your living room and kitchen.
“Why are you here, Dabi? I left the bar to get away from you, not so you would follow me home.”
“Aw come on, we’re alone, you can use my name. Are you sure you really wanted me to leave you all alone? Let such a pretty little thing walk home in the dead of night?”
“Don’t act like I can’t take care of myself. I’ve been doing everything on my own since you left, so I don’t need you to take care of me now.” You hiss.
“If you don’t want me around, then why did you end up exactly where I was? Why are you still here? I gave you an out; I left and didn’t come back - you’re the one that came back looking for me, so what is it?”
“None of that matters. I’m allowed to change my mind and not want you here.”
“Why can’t you just own up to the fact that you came looking for me? You came looking for me, you’ve been here for months, and I want to know why.”
“It’s none of your business why. It was clearly a mistake and now I can’t get rid of you.”
“I want an explanation. Why’d you come back and why did you stay?”
“Because I wanted to. . . and it was a mistake, so leave me alone already.”
“Stop being a fucking brat and just tell me why you came back!” Dabi shouts, glaring at you.
The two of you stand in the middle of the room, eyes locked on each other. You can feel the heat rolling off of him as he glares at you. Neither one of you is willing to break the tense silence that swirls around the room just yet. Finally, he makes a move and takes steps until he’s standing in front of you. Bright blue eyes bore into yours as he wraps an arm around your waist and tugs you into his chest.
“I woke up and you were gone, sheet cold and everything. There was no trace of you having even been there.” You whisper, looking up at him as you fist a hand in the back of his shirt. “You showed up, gave me every reason to think you were staying and you disappeared on me. I was the one person that you were never supposed to do that too.”
“What was I supposed to do? You were the only one that knew I was alive. I couldn’t just go back home and I definitely couldn’t just pick up a life and start doing everything like a normal person.”
“But you could have stayed or taken me with you!”
“Taken you with? You wanted me to take you with me while I had nothing? No home, hardly any food, just nothing? You wanted to run around with me while I destroyed myself for years?”
“If it meant being with you, yes!”
“I wasn’t going to do that to you!”
“It shouldn’t have been your choice!” You shout, hitting his chest.
“I wasn’t going to let you decide! I know you! And I knew you would go with me no matter what I said, so I kept you safe! I left you to keep you safe.”
“I could have taken care of myself. I’m not some helpless child that you need to babysit. I’m a grown woman, Touya.”
“I care about you. I wasn’t about to take you with me and let something happen, ok? It would have killed me if you got hurt.”
“And it killed me that you left.” Staring up at him, you can’t help the small feeling of heartbreak that creeps up. The feeling of cold empty sheets haunts your dreams. And just like a shitty music video for an over played love song, you picture everything that happened that night.
The soft creek of your bedroom window pulls you from your peaceful slumber. Peeking an eye open, you watch your window be pushed open and a mop of soft white hair pop through followed by a thin partially scarred body. You watch him close the window before closing your window and turning to give you a small smile. Sitting up, you pull your knees to your chest and offer him your own small smile.
“Hi Touya.” You whisper as he crawls onto your bed and drops next to you.
“Hi, doll. Saw your parents weren’t home, so I thought I’d stop by to keep you company for the night.”
“So kind of you to stalk me.”
“You love it.”
“I put up with it for some weird reason.”
“Because you’re obsessed with me, right, doll?”
“You’re so annoying. Get out of my bed.” You giggle and push him off the side and onto the floor with a small ‘thud’.
Immediately after hitting the floor, he pops back up with a scowl and clambers back onto the bed and pins you down. Bright blue eyes glare down at you softly as Touya looks over you with minor annoyance. Without thinking, you bring a hand up and cup one of his cheeks, thumb brushing over the scars starting to creep their way up his from his jaw line. His face softens slowly as he lowers his face to yours until his nose bumps against yours. In a moment of curiosity, you tilt your head ever so slightly and Touya immediately takes the hint and lowers his lips to press them against your own.
His breath stutters against you for a moment before he applies a little more pressure to the kiss. It takes a moment, but, little by little, his lips start to move against your own, slowly taking charge of the kiss. In some ways, it feels so odd to kiss your best friend, but something, something about it feels oh so right. His body relaxes against yours, his hands start to move along your sides and slip under your shirt to touch along your bare waist. The heat radiating off of him fills you with an overwhelming sense of comfort.
“Y/n.” He whispers softly after pulling away. Blinking up at him, you smooth a hand through his hair.
“Keep going.” You breathe before kissing his jaw.
He looks at you unsure for a moment before finally leaning down and capturing your lips again. His fingers creep further up your body, inching your shirt up little by little. As you feel his hands graze over your soft skin, you fully expect it to feel odd and foreign, but something about his touch feels calming and has you craving more.
Everything happens so quickly, clothes fall into little piles on the floor. You breathe in the scent of smoke and cigarettes that just recently started to cling to him. The warmth radiating off of him feels like home and the most overwhelming sense of comfort. The way he moves against you and presses his lips to your ear to whisper a soft, “I need you. I love you.” It’s so quiet you almost miss it.
You, however, do miss the sound of him getting out of your bed a few hours later and getting redressed. Which means you also miss the soft sound of him scribbling a half-hearted goodbye note, and the creak of your window opening and closing as he does his best to walk out of your life.
*End Flashback*
“Get out.” You whisper as you unwrap your arms from him and shove him away from you. The heartbreak and pain swirls around inside you as you look up at him.
“You’re right. I shouldn’t have come back. I should have avoided you. I want you to leave now.”
“Doll, come on.”
“You had no problem sneaking out of my window years ago, so you should have no problem walking out of my door right now.”
The air around the two of you is tense for a moment before he shakes his head and finally leaves, slamming the door behind him. You stand there in the middle of your living room, staring at the door as if you expect him to come back. After a few minutes of just standing there, you feel the tears burning your eyes, finally bubbles over. Letting out a loud sob, you wrap your arms around yourself. You stand there sobbing until you have no tears left.
Mustering up all the energy you have left, you drag yourself into your bathroom and turn on the shower. After the water’s done heating up, you step in and let the hot water wash as much of your pain away as possible in that moment. Little by little, the vivid colors of that night start to fade away until it nearly disappears back into its home in the dark resources of your memory. The rest of the night is slow moving: dinner, TV, and getting ready for bed. The same mundane routine as usual until you tuck yourself in bed and do your best to let sleep take over.
Just as sleep finally starts to take you, there’s a small creak in your otherwise silent room. Keeping your eyes closed tightly, you listen to the soft sound of his footsteps, and the rustle of clothing being dropped onto your floor. After another few moments, you feel the bed dip next to you as the covers are moved and a warm body wraps around you, pulling you into their chest. You stay still for a moment and let the smell of smoke and cigarettes wash over you again. A scarred hand slides down your arm and laces your fingers together.
“I know you’re awake.” Dabi whispers quietly.
“Why’d you come back?” You question at the same time.
The two of you fall into an awkward silence for a moment until, finally, Dabi speaks up. “You came back for me. I don’t know how to really do this. I’m not good at I love you’s, but I’m here, and I don’t want to just be your friend. I want you.”
“Touya.” You sigh softly before letting go of his hand and turning over to face him, his face shining in the moonlight. “I don’t want to let my guard down and have you sneak out of my window again.”
“I won’t, I promise. Leaving you was one of the stupidest decisions I ever made, but I don’t think we were ever meant to just be friends.”
“I want to trust you and I really want to believe that, but you broke my heart. You broke everything I was back then. Touya, you slept with me then snuck out of my window, never to be heard from again until I found you.”
“And that was shitty of me and I’m sorry. It’s just, fuck, Y/n. I need you. I need you in my life.” His voice cracks slightly as vulnerability creeps up onto his face, an unfamiliar softness swimming in his vibrant blue eyes.
Something about the way he looks at you in that moment shatters all of your walls. Crumbles them as if they were made of the flimsiest of materials. “You have me. I’m yours.”
There’s a certain level of hesitation that crosses his face as he looks over you until, finally, he leans, cupping your cheek and tilting your head ever so slightly. Finally, his lips press against yours in a soft kiss that feels like home again. Slowly, he rolls you over onto your back and settles himself between your legs above you. Your hands slide up his arms to rest around his shoulders, pulling him closer to you. His weight rests against you as his tongue swipes along the seam of your lips. Parting your lips, you let his tongue tangle with yours as your hand tangles in black locks.
“I love you, Touya.” You whisper against his lips.
His breath stutters against you, but, otherwise, he stays completely silent. You can feel his body heating up slightly as his grip on your hips tightens. His hands slowly loosen and start to slide up your sides, inching up your shirt as he goes. Pushing him away, you sit up and pull your shirt over your head and lay back. You watch as his eyes rake over your bare chest before he sits up and lets his shirt join yours on the floor. Leaning back down, he kisses you softly and grinds his hips against yours.
The two of you quickly discard the rest of your clothing and cling to one another. Slipping a hand between the two of you, carefully, you line his tip up with your soaked entrance. Dabi quickly takes your hint and slowly pushes into you. As he bottoms out, he holds himself still, allowing you to adjust. Cupping his cheek, you pull him down into a soft kiss.
Pulling out of the kiss, you look up at him with a soft smile. “Move, Touya.”
Dabi gives you a quick nod and pulls out until only the tip remains and pushes back in slowly, allowing you to feel his piercings drag against your sensitive walls. Your arms wrap around him while you moan and rock your hips against him softly. His hips roll into yours at a slow, even pace. Sliding his hands up your arms, he laces your fingers together. Your warm walls tighten around him as he picks up the pace.
“I promise I won’t leave you again. Never again, doll.” He whispers against your neck.
“You better not. I won’t come back if you leave again.”
Dabi gives you a small smile and leans in for a soft, passionate kiss. Bringing a leg up to wrap around his waist, you allow him to sink in a little deeper. He lets out a deep groan against your lips as he rolls his hips against yours a little harder. Your head tilts back as you moan loudly as he hits all the right spots within you.
“Touya, I’m gonna cum. Please, I'm so close.” You whimper out against his neck.
He lets go of one of your hands and slips it down between your bodies to thumb over your clit quickly. “Go ahead, cum for me, doll.”
The added stimulation slowly helps to push you over the edge. Your toes curl, back arches off the bed as you cling to him while your walls clench around him. Above you, Dabi lets out a deep groan, his hips stuttering as he paints your walls white. You let out a quiet moan at the feeling of him filling you. Your hands move along his back slowly, nails gently dragging along the unscarred sections of his back. As he catches his breath, he rests his weight against you, doing his best to not crush you. Letting his head rest between your breasts, he sighs softly.
“You’re everything to me, Y/n.” He whispers against your skin.
“You’re everything to me, too.”
“So you’re done hating me finally?”
“Only because you’re good in bed.” You tease, only to squeal when he pinches your side. “Ow, jerk. Yes, I’m done hating, unless you pinch me again.”
“Brat. And I’m great in bed.” He mumbles.
Pulling out of you, he rolls over onto his back and pulls you into his side and kisses the top of your head. You curl into his side and rest your head on his chest. The steady beat of his heart eases your racing thoughts, while the heat radiating off of him lulls you to sleep. Brushing some hair out of your face, he smiles down at you before letting sleep take over. Sunlight creeps in through your window, making you want to bury your face in your pillow. As you go to turn around, you register the arm wrapped around your waist and the warm body pressed along your back. You can’t help the large smile that takes over your face as you turn around to look at Dabi’s sleeping figure. His arm tightens around you and pulls you a little closer to your chest and somehow coaxes you back to sleep.
Somehow, things between the two of you work. It’s far from perfect and, honestly, it’s a bit of a mess sometimes. At the end of the day, though, you wait for the sound of your window creaking open, boots moving across your room, and clothing hitting the floor. In some weird way, it’s turned into your perfect love song. Your heart rate picks up, and time slows every single time you hear it, because you know this time he’s not leaving before you wake up.
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natty-taffy · a day ago
left, right. left, right. steady - [natasha x stark!daughter] - 2/3
Being the daughter of Tony Stark has it's perks, you go unnoticed by the threats he faces while living at one of his summer safe houses.
That is, until a hurt Natasha Romanoff breaks into it, at 4am.
TW: guns pointed at you, minor mention of violence
“Were you ran over?” You try, pretending not to be unfazed by her constant staring.
There’s a small silence before her voice surfaces, tiredly “I don’t make small talk”
With cheeks slightly flushed in embarrassment, you simply nod, focusing on the amount of water you were heating.
Natasha stands at your left side, she is sat neatly on the kitchen chair despite her clear discomfort, while you face away from her, on the stove- she could see you, but you couldn’t see her.
You're trying to give her all the advantage she can take on the situation, since she looks late to her sleep schedule for at least ten years.
You start humming a small melody that’s been hanging on your head for a week now, trying to fill the air with something- being Tony’s daughter means that silence becomes an unnerving thing, you just can't help it.
It’s only when the kettle starts to scream, way sooner that you expected, that you go pick the mug on the cabinet next to the window and realizes just how bright it is outside- what time would it be?
“No” Natasha murmurs out of the sudden, startling your wondering mind.
You freeze, putting the mug down, wondering if you had done any suspicious movement and turn to face her, a little frown of confusion growing on your face.
She lets out a guarded smile “I haven’t been ran over” the redhead explains in a light way “I just had to sever a nerve of mine”
You are completely out of things to say- why is she telling you this- is it a test?
Without wasting much time you decide to bite the bullet and just go with it; it's better than being babysat in utter silence.
That’s when you actually comprehend what she said-
“Sever a nerve?” You scrunch your eyebrows, looking at her face “How- like, with your bare hands?”
Natasha shrugs “I slammed my face on a table”
And that’s when you know you lost it- because you are laughing, openly laughing at Natasha Romanoff’s face because she just told you she severed her nerve by slamming her face on a table.
God- your tried to stop your incessant giggles, but Jesus fuck you just could not.
If anything, she is as surprised as you by the reaction; her face is hovering between confusion and being put aback.
“I’m really-” you try to rush your sentence before another fit reaches you “Sorry- Fuck- did you just-” you mimic a movement of hunching your upper body forward to an imaginary surface, having already given up at being serious.
At that, the unimaginable happens; you swear you can see her eyes twinkle a little and her mouth soon tries, and fails, to squeeze itself into a serious countenance again.
Holy shit, you just made the Black Widow laugh, and it was the most beautiful sight you have ever seen.
“No, you’re making it look like a chicken” she sobers up a little, so you win a glare.
“You’re saying you doubled yourself in half and didn't look like a chicken?” You challenge, only a bit afraid you have overstepped some line.
“In less than an hour you managed to say I look bad and like a chicken” she allows her teeth to appear under her smile, Jesus Christ, and points at you, Jesus Christ “do you have a willing to die?”
“Would that be enough to allow me to offer some tea again?”
She eyes the tea for a quick second and finds your gaze once more, before huffing and standing up to grab a mug from where you had just gotten yours “Barely”
“Can I please take a look on your foot?” You ask once again as she tries to pass her slight limp as a casual stumble.
Natasha stares at you, as you have grown accustomed to, and rest her hands on the counter “Why?”
“I’m a nurse student” You can't help but smile proudly at yourself “It’s unnerving to see something I can help but not do it”
She arches her right eyebrow and right before you can pass out- because, yes, she manages to look hot even when limping back to the chair- she surprises you, yet again, by nodding once, shortly. “You will explain to me everything you’re doing”
“Wouldn’t dare to do anything else” You say calmly at her imposition, while trying to contain the mess of happiness and nervousiness that bubbles inside your chest “Do you want to come with me while I take the supplies?”
“Wouldn’t dare to do anything else” She repeats back at you and you can only hope to not burst of excitement in front of her.
While she means in a slightly threatening way, you can’t help but notice she’s starting to gain, even if to the minimum, trust around you.
Natasha oddly starts to feel less of a threat and more of a kitten. You wish you could keep her for a little while.
hi, guys!!! this chapter is more like a bridge to the next one, so it's a bit short :D
i really hope you like it!!
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growup-thatbeautiful · 6 hours ago
Hi! I saw you had your song request open... I was thinking maybe a Natasha Romanoff with Peace by Taylor Swift? I personally think it would fit so much 😍😭
omg it fits so good, nonnie 😭😭😭😭
send me a song and i’ll write a fic!
natasha and you aren’t loud about your love, but it’s not peaceful. how can it be, when your love is based on a profession that could kill you at any time. you both have pasts that could come back and haunt you at any moment.
you knew that going into the relationship, though. so no, it’s not peaceful, but it’s also not compliant. in your opinion, compliant is one of the worst things a relationship can be. you know the old “fights are healthy” isn’t necessarily true, but you and natasha have your fair share of fights. some are about who was being more reckless on the last mission, some are about who forgot to put the dishes away.
this time you’ve honestly forgotten whatever it was you were fighting about. it was something stupid you’re sure. right now you’re with wanda, sam, and vision, who are trying to stay out of it, but also nudging in the direction they think is right.
“you guys should just break up,” says sam.
“i agree. sounds like you guys just fight. no one would actually know about you two being together if the news hadn’t splashed it all over every sign,” adds wanda with an eye roll.
”not all of us have perfect relationships, wanda,” you joke, trying to hide how you actually feel. is there a problem with you and wanda? sure, you fight, but doesn’t everyone? you two live in high stress situations.
“maybe you’re right.”
“of course we’re right,” says sam. “do you even know what you’re fighting about? i’m tired of hearing about this shit. grow up and stay together or keep fighting about everything and cause more pain to each other. you’ve both been through enough not to have to deal with a relationship like this,” he adds kindly.
“yeah,” you say slowly, thinking. you love natasha. you know that. that’s never been in question at all.
you think more on your walk back to your apartment with natasha. your hands are in your pockets, head hung low in thought.
you unlock the door, tossing your keys onto the counter. you can hear natasha in the kitchen, making something for dinner. neither one of you are good at cooking, so you take turns. her back is turned to you, but you can see the tension in her. you assume it’s not from the cooking.
neither one of you does well when you’re fighting. sam was right, it takes its toll. you’re supposed to be the holding each other together, not tearing you apart.
you tap her on the shoulder lightly, a habit that you have with each other. it’s a double tap, something you used to do for luck when you were young. she had found it endearing, and taken it upon herself to revive it.
you lean on the counter next to her. she doesn’t look up or say a word. still mad then. great. your anger died when you realized how real it was.
“everyone thinks we should break up,” you mention, breaking the silence. “wanda, vis, and sam. they say we don’t even look like we’re in love.”
“since when do you care what everyone else thinks,” she says back, none too kindly. you want to slam your hands down against the counter.
“i don’t. it was just statement.”
“do you think they’re right?” she asks, finally looking at you.
you look at her sharply. “no. i don’t think what they say about us amounts to shit.”
“there’s my girl,” she says. “i..” she trails off, sighing. “we both know i’m not good at this. i much prefer the silence conversations we have with each other, but you need to know that i love you. i love you so much. i love how you love yelena like she’s your sister and i love your sunshine smile. i especially love how you stand by me even when my torturous, consuming waves of grief and baggage.” she gives you one of those small, secret smiles that are so rare and you can’t stay mad.
you go into her arms and talk into her collarbone. “i don’t know why people can’t understand that love isn’t about showy gestures and public declarations. that stuff doesn’t really matter, because i would die for you without anyone knowing. standing with me, you’ve got to be careful. there’s always rain where i’m standing, whether it’s pretty if not. we’ll never give each other peace, but we’ll have love.”
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screechesincoherently · 18 hours ago
The Cop Out- Sam Kiszka
Part 3 - Stories
Part 1
Part 2
Synopsis: Sam and Y/n work to figure out their stories for the first time as a "couple"
Warnings: Swearing, Vegan Soup
Word Count: 1,766
In Collaboration With: @capturethechaos
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“So, how did you two start dating?” Karen asked.
Y/n looked over to Sam, not expecting to have been asked that question as she choked on her mouthful of creamy roasted red pepper soup. She could have sworn she felt a little bit come out of her nose, and it must have, as the look on Sam's face went from shock to joy. His laugh broke the silence that had fallen over the table.
“What, did you forget you were dating or something?” Jake asked.
“No, she’s just a little embarrassed about the whole story.” Sam attempted to explain, still laughing at her as she attempted to clean the soup from her face.
Before he could get an explanation out, Sam looked at Y/n, realizing she had missed a spot on her face. Leaning over, he lifted a napkin and wiped it off for her. Turning back to his family, the smile on Karen's face was a sight to behold.
“So uh- it’s actually quite similar to what just happened.”
“You’re going to have to elaborate.” Ronnie said, a confused look written across her face.
“Well, Y/n and I went out for coffee-- and I was already planning on asking her to be my girlfriend.”
Y/n looked at him, her eyes widening, realizing the exact day he was referring to.
“I was completely clueless to this, so I was talking about something stupid-- I can’t remember what though--” She said, attempting to play along as best as she could.
“You were talking about ferrets-- for whatever reason--”
“Because they’re adorable--”
“Anyways, she had been going on about ferrets for like ten minutes, it was fucking adorable. She kept talking with her hands and making these little faces.” Sam said, smiling at her as he spoke, and it started to feel less like a story they were trying to make up, and more like a story he already had memorized.
“Eventually I needed a breather, so I stopped talking, and took a massive drink of coffee. Sam was just staring at me so I made a face at him--”
“And I just kinda said it, I asked her to be my girlfriend.”
“And she said yes.” Josh said, looking between the two with an odd look on his face.
“No actually, she spewed her coffee all over me when I asked her.” Sam replied
Y/n remembered the moment he had talked about, but instead of him asking her if she would be his girlfriend, he said some god awful fun fact about ferrets;
“Y/n, you wanna know a fun fact?” Sam asked, watching as she took a drink of her coffee.
She raised her eyebrows over her coffee cup signaling him to continue.
“Did you know that if a female ferret doesn’t have sex for a year, she will die?” He said, a cheesy smile breaking out on his face.
There was coffee everywhere, and neither quite knew what to say. Y/n sat, a hand over her mouth, staring at Sam drenched in coffee. He looked back at her, an astonished look on his face, then he broke out laughing.
“So I take it you didn’t know that.”
“Shut the fuck up Sam.” She said, breaking out into laughter with him.
“And we didn’t really need to say much after that, it just kinda went the way it did and here we are.”
“Well that’s definitely unconventional, but I suppose so are you two.” Karen said with a small laugh.
Y/n and Sam met each other’s eyes, and Y/n was grateful that they were almost constantly on the same wavelength. She smiled at him and turned back to her dinner, not quite seeing it as appetizing anymore.
“Dinner was really good, Karen. Thank you.”
“Oh there’s dessert too! Do you want a piece of peanut butter cookie bar? I had the twins make it while I made the soup.”
“Are we sure that it’s edible? I heard you yelling at them a lot while you three were in the kitchen.” Kelly said.
“Hey! I’m a great baker.” Josh defended, lifting his chin to look confident.
“Yea, good at getting baked.” Ronnie jested, throwing a piece of bread at Josh.
“You know, I think I’d want one of them to try their own creation about an hour before they share it with everyone.” Y/n said, leaning back in her chair and feeling an arm draped against the back of it.
Y/n absentmindedly lifted her hand to where Sam’s was resting, brushing his fingers with her own. The two were so caught up in conversation that neither noticed as they laced their fingers together, Sam beginning to rub the back of her hand with his thumb.
“Oh look, you two are even wearing matching bracelets! How cute!” Karen squealed.
Y/n looked at her wrist, realizing the position her hand was resting in, or more the hand it was resting in. She felt heat rise to her face, and his hand grip tighter on hers as he began to tell his parents the story of when he got the bracelets a year earlier for her birthday.
The family sat and joked for a while, listening intently as Sam and Y/n told stories about their relationship. The stories became easier the longer they told them, they just changed details to make it seem less like a friendship and more like a relationship.
As they went along twisting their stories, Y/n began to realize that really the only thing that had to be adjusted was certain actions and titles that they “gave” one another.
“You alright babe?” Sam asked, looking at her.
“Hmm, yeah-- I’m alright.” She replied, looking up at him with a smile.
“You two make me sick.” Josh said, followed by some long drawn out gagging noises that made Karen smack him on the back of the head.
“Dinner was really good, thank you mom. Y/n needs to get going– lots to do tomorrow.” Sam said, rising from his chair signaling to Y/n that it was time to end the dinner.
She stood with a smile, walking over to Karen and leaning down to hug her, “Thank you for dinner momma K, it was lovely.”
“Anytime sweetie, thank you for coming.” Karen said, turning her head to give Y/n a kiss on the cheek.
The two walked out of the house and Y/n quickly realized that she had no way of getting home on her own. She dropped her shoulders and turned to Sam, not looking at him but down towards her phone to get a ride.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m gonna get a ride back home, I’m not going to walk.”
“Really?” Sam said, plucking Y/n’s phone out of her hands.
“Sam I’m just gonna order an Uber.”
“Your Uber is already here dipshit.” Sam said slightly offended that she thought he would let her go by herself.
“First of all, unnecessary roughness. Secondly, okay– but can I have my phone back?”
“No. You’re going to spend precious quality time with your best friend who will literally walk through shit for you.”
Best friend– yes, that's exactly what we are, that's all.
Well shit. Y/n completely let it slip that the whole night was for show. But then why did it feel so natural?
“Fine. But I get to pick the music.”
“Ugh, fine.” Sam groaned, grabbing her hand and dragging her towards his car.
“Don’t move–” Sam ran to the passenger side of the car, “M’lady.” He said, making a grand gesture of opening Y/n’s door for her.
“Wow, such a gentleman.” She said, a smile forming on her face.
“I try.”
She got into the car, watching as he made his way back to the driver's side and getting in. Her phone connected to the bluetooth, and she immediately opened her favorite playlist, pressing shuffle and eagerly awaiting what would play.
Like Real People Do by Hozier.
Had to be this fucking song didn’t it, as if tonight hasn’t played with my mind enough.
Did she play this song on purpose? No she hit shuffle. What kind of divine intervention is this shit.
The two of them sat in a pleasant silence, Y/n staring out the window as they passed the beautifully decorated buildings, the Christmas lights shining through the pitch-black night.
Honey just put your sweet lips on my lips, we should just kiss like real people do.
Y/n’s gaze turned, watching Sam as he tapped the wheel of the car as if it were the strings of a guitar, his lips moving along with the lyrics.
She stayed like that for a little while longer than she would care to admit, her eyes switching focus between his lips and his hands. The music eventually changed, and the heavy feeling in her chest lifted.
Cos since I’ve come on home, well my body’s been a mess.
Y/n began quietly singing along to the song.
Won't you come on over. Stop making a fool out of me.
“WHY DON'T YOU COME ON OVER VALERIE?” The two yelled out together, Sam turning to Y/n and pointing at her dramatically.
“Oh my fucking god Sam, keep your eyes on the fucking road!”
“You know this thing has autopilot right? I can literally drive without my hands on the wheel, look!” Sam said, lifting his hands from the wheel and waggling them in her face.
“You’re an idiot Sam Kiszka.” She said, swatting his hands away.
The rest of the car ride only took a few minutes, and when they pulled up Sam turned to Y/n, “Stay there.”
He got out of the car and raced over to her side, opening the door and offering her his hand.
“Thank you, Sammy.” She said, taking his hand and stepping out of the car.
“No problem, I know it was just a few blocks but it’s alright. I mean gas isn’t necessarily the cheapest right now but-” Sam said dragging out the last word teasing Y/n
“Not for that dumbass. I mean, yeah for that, but I meant for helping me out and facing this clusterfuck with me.” She said, swinging their conjoined hands as she spoke.
“Don’t worry about it, I know you’d do the same for me if I needed it. I’ve got your back whenever you need me.” He pulled on her hand, wrapping his arms around her in a tight hug.
“I love you Sammy.”
“Love you too, Giggles.”
@gretavanwinkle @gvfrry @theweightofstardust @jessssssi @alwayssotiredbutneverofyou @chalametpwk @cowboysamkiszka @katie-gvf @sammykiszkasunusedshoes
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extasiswings · a day ago
you last post, yeah, exactly. i cannot tell you how many times i saw people complaining about the "lack" of eddie dealing with his trauma or how the show is ignoring it (which for anyone who can observe and notice things it's clear that's not the cause, he's clearly getting worse and worse and close to a breaking point, people just think that trauma can only be show as one single thing, that a person reacting and dealing with their trauma is always in the same specific way) and god it's so frustrating, like, can't you wait? just wait? if not for 5a to be over, then to s5 to be over, or the show to be over, so you can say with certain and with facts that you were right and pat yourself on the back? it's very annoying and that's why i'm mostly on here when it comes to the show, it's way more positive and the experience that i'm curating has being really great and fun. and i would like to thank you because you make things really clear with you galaxy brain. it's a joy being in this part of the fandom, with you and everyone, y'all are lovely!
Oh my god, exactly. I genuinely want to ask people sometimes if we’re watching the same show because come on.
Eddie Diaz has been repressing shit for 30 years. He “doesn’t panic”, he “picks himself up and keeps moving forward.” “Warzones are [his] thing.” This is a man who felt like his only outlet for the guilt and shame and grief and anger he felt after his wife died was to join a secret street fighting club because he wasn’t allowed to just feel those feelings and talk about them and process them in a normal, healthy way. This is a man who thinks that in order to be a good parent, he has to have his shit together and be in control 100% of the time so having panic attacks? Actually acknowledging or processing his trauma? Lol no, he’s not gonna do that.
What we saw at the beginning of the season was Eddie having panic attacks that were clearly about both Ana AND the shooting (the scene of Eddie freezing on the air traffic control call, my beloved), but Eddie insisting they were exclusively about Ana. And Ana was the easiest thing he could deal with—he broke up with her and it was slapping a bandaid on a bullet hole (no pun intended). He stopped having panic attacks, he was able to reset his walls and defenses a little bit.
But yeah, he’s absolutely breaking down. He was exhausted and fraying in the hospital in Home and Away. He kept it together during the hostage situation but started to snap near the end after Mitchell shot himself and then distanced himself from everyone and ended the episode once again exhausted and fraying climbing into Christopher’s bed. He came as close to having a public breakdown as we’ve arguably ever seen from him in Defend in Place (because again THIS IS NOT A MAN WHO HAS PUBLIC BREAKDOWNS! HE BARELY EVEN HAS PRIVATE BREAKDOWNS!).
Eddie is not okay! And they have been twisting the knife and turning up the tension by throwing him into situation after situation with injured/dying/dead children no less. And they have simultaneously let the will and the shooting hang out there over everything in this agonizing silence of “Things Buck and Eddie Are Not Talking About”. And now we’re getting Christmas and an emotional/upset Christopher? Hello????
Anyway…yeah, they’re not ignoring his trauma, they’re not ignoring the shooting or the will, but there are 9 episodes left in the season and Eddie’s long-held coping mechanisms of repression and “I will keep all my feelings right here and then one day I’ll die” are not going to go quietly into that good night. And if you expected them to, idk what to say other than maybe rewatch S2-4 again.
(I’m so glad I can contribute to making a positive space for you! Thanks!)
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lucywrites02 · a day ago
Moments like this
Main masterlist | Drabble masterlist
A/n: me? Posting 2 drabbles in one day?? What is going on? I want to spoil you after my long break so here *throws content at you and runs away*
Request: Hiii!! do I have another idea, paint my nails with Loki? like every month the pajama party arrives where you have to let off steam with each other and paint your nails with this? Ciao ciao!! 💖- Jojo's reference 🤌
Pairing: he/they Loki x gn! Reader (platonic or romantic)
Word count: 425
Loki tag list: @twhiddlestonsstuff @dreamingyouth @xladyxfatex @castiels-majestic-wings @lokistan @cozy-the-overlord ​ @whatafuckingdumbass @electroma89 ​ @dpaccione @gaitwae @poetic-fiasco @lokitrashfan @weirdfangirl2416 @rorybutnotgilmore @the-emo-asgardian @wolfish-trickster @serpentargo @darkacademicfrom2021 @imnotrevealingmyname @nyx2021 @theaudacitytowrite @high-functioning-lokipath @i-beg-your-pardon-laufeyson @funsized-mimi @aliiiyyaaah @handmaiden-of-mischief @bouffantofdoom @mischief-siriusly-managed @selfship-mishaps @kozkalovesloki @sarahpaq08 @lostgreekgod @thewindandthewolves @agentkinghorn
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“This shade is hideous.” Loki said with a grimace on his face. He’s been looking at your collection of nail polish since he came. Which was half an hour ago and yet the trickster god could not choose a single color.
“Why don’t you just paint them black?” you asked, not taking your eyes from the screen of your phone even for a moment. “Black goes well with everything.”
“I would if it was matte.” Your friend huffed and abandoned the box with nail polish, leaving it on the coffee table. “Why must everything be shiny? Not owning at least one matte polish is a sin. And stop looking at that device!” They tried to take your phone away, but you moved quickly to the side, furiously typing something.
“I’m ordering food, you dumbass.” You knew that Loki would stop whining when you said ‘food’ but the god still wouldn’t shut up about that black matte nail polish which drove you crazy. “How about we do french nails?”
“I guess…” The prince sighed and you rolled your eyes so hard you could almost see your brain. Loki was entitled to be in a bitchy mood since his last mission lasted way too long for his liking, but your sleepovers were supposed to be a good way to relax- not to test your patience. “What did you order?”
“Your favorite, my liege.” You bowed playfully. “And before you say something- yes, I asked them for an extra cookie for you.”
The trickster smiled for the first time that night and put their head on your shoulder. Loki handed you a bottle of white nail polish with a silent question. You handed him the remote to choose a movie to watch and got to work on their nails. You were jealous of your friend’s hands because they looked so pretty. Yes, there were some small scars here and there and his skin wasn’t smooth like silk, but Loki had beautiful hands.
“I promise to buy some black nail polish for our next sleepover.” Your voice broke the silence that had fallen between you. Not that it was awkward to sit with Loki and not say a word- on the contrary. You loved how comfortable it felt. But you had a feeling that the god needed someone to talk to. Especially now.
“Matte black.”
“Of course, my prince.” You chuckled and continued your work while Loki was still looking for something interesting to watch. You knew that the two of you would end up rewatching his favorite show.
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marauderundercover · 2 days ago
Making Memories: Ch. 25
Day 25: Reasons and Relaxation
Marinette stared ahead blankly. The usual joy she felt when she was on a plane was gone, leaving her feeling empty. And hollow. Because this time, she wasn't going to be greeted in Paris by her Papa's warm hugs. Or her Maman’s reassuring words.
No. She was going back to attend their funeral. The one her dad had planned for her because she just couldn't do it. Because it meant accepting they were gone. She was going back to Paris to hear her parent's will read. But she wasn't going home, because Paris wasn't home. Not anymore.
"Pix? Have you talked to any of your friends from Paris?" Jason asks, breaking the silence in the plane. Marinette shakes her head, biting her lip.
"I didn't- I don't know how to start that conversation." She breathes out.
"Would you like me to have Mme. Bustier announce it to your old class?" Her dad asks. She frowns, thinking about it. As much as she didn't want Lila having that kind of ammunition over her, most of the class knew her parents. They went to the bakery all the time. They should know, at the very least. She nods, before shifting her weight and laying her head on Jason's shoulder. She needed to sleep, just for a couple of minutes. Just until she could start to forget again.
Bruce stared at the building in front of him. For the first time in a long time, he was nervous. In just a few short minutes, he’d be read his daughter’s parents’ will. He’d find out if he was going to have to fight for custody of his daughter. Something that he didn’t want to have to put her through right now. But he couldn’t blame the Dupain-Cheng’s for putting someone else. He wasn’t sure how often they updated their will, and he’d only known Marinette for eight or nine months. Taking in a deep breath, Bruce walks into the building and gives the secretary a small smile.
“Are you here for the Dupain-Cheng’s?” The woman asks. Bruce nods. “Right this way.” She says, leading him to a smaller room. Bruce thanks the woman before she walks away, then turns to the man behind the desk.
“Thank you, for meeting with me on such short notice.” He says. The man nods.
“Yes, well, I’m afraid they’ve asked for everything to be held until Marinette turns of age.” The man says with a slight wince. Bruce shakes his head.
“That’s fine, I’m just worried about who will get custody of Marinette.” He says. The man frowns.
“Well, you have it, of course.” Bruce blinks in surprise.
“I- what?” He asks. The man nods.
“Oh yes. You’ve actually been listed as the individual who would be given custody for years. Although neither Tom nor Sabine actually knew you, they told me that they trusted Bridgette and thought it would be best to give you the chance to meet Marinette, should anything happen to them.” He says. Bruce lets out a sigh of relief. If this had been a week ago, he’d be concerned with how easily trusting Tom and Sabine were. He’d talk to them about it. But now, now all he can do is be thankful that they’ve trusted him with their daughter since day one.
Staring at the reflection in the mirror, Marinette can’t stop the shaking in her hands. She didn’t look like her parents. Not exactly. And she’d never cared before. Especially once she found out she was adopted. After that, it just became a fun game of seeing what she got from Bridgette and what she got from her dad. But now, staring at her reflection all dressed in black, Marinette can’t help but wish she looked like them. That she had her Maman’s eyes, or her Papa’s smile. So that she wouldn’t lose them, wouldn’t forget what they looked like.
“Marinette? Honey, it’s time.” Her dad calls out, gently knocking on her door. Marinette lets out a shaky breath, opening the door and immediately latching onto her father’s hand. She didn’t care what she looked like right now, but she knew she’d need her dad’s support to get through the day.
“We’ve got you Pixie Pop.” Jason whispers from behind her. She glances back, and a wave of relief washes over her. Her brothers were all standing there, ready to protect her, even though there was nothing they could do to protect her from this. This was something that none of them could fix, no matter how badly they wanted to.
“I’m here.” Another voice says softly. Marinette whips her head around, tears springing to her eyes when she sees Cass. Her older sister had been busy lately, so the fact that she made the time to come, meant everything to Marinette. With her small army of family behind her, Marinette steadies her breathing, and follows her father into the funeral home. She freezes as she glances around the full room. It seemed like nearly everyone in Paris had come to pay their respects to her parents. Everyone she went to school with and their families, Nadja and Manon, André, Jagged and Penny, the Mayor and Audrey Bourgeois- even people she didn’t know by name, but had seen in the bakery. It was too much. She backed up slowly, almost immediately hitting Dick’s chest. She whirls around and looks up at her brother.
“I can’t do this.” She says, shaking her head. She can’t do this. She has to leave, needs to run. Just as she turns to dart away, she feels arms close around her. She squirms for a minute, but takes a deep breath and instead leans into the comforting hold. Glancing up to see who has her, she’s surprised to see Alfred glancing back down at her, his face set in a firm line.
“You don’t have to run, Miss Marinette. We’re here for you.” He says, his voice quiet and gentle. Tears threaten to fall as she leans into the man who raised her dad, the one she looked up to so much.
“It hurts.” She whispers, trying to keep her brothers and dad from hearing her.
“I know.” He says simply, gently patting her head. It takes another minute, but Marinette is able to stand back up and move towards the front of the funeral home, where the family is supposed to sit. She doesn’t know if she can handle looking into the caskets and seeing them so….unlike themselves.
“The funeral director wants to know if you want to see them now, or right after the service?” A man asks quietly, giving her a sympathetic look. Marinette’s eyes widen and she turns to her dad.
“I- I don’t-” She stutters, her chest clenching as she tries not to panic. She couldn’t see them- did she have to see them? Should she see them? How was she supposed to look at them like that?
“It’s up to you, Mars. No one’s going to force you.” Tim reassures her quietly. Marinette squeezes her eyes shut, silently deciding to see them after the service. When she could say bye to them without everyone watching her and judging her. Now she just had to get through the actual funeral.
The rest of the day went by in a blur. Songs and speakers all merging together into a big blob. One big colorless blob. Viewing her parents in their caskets was definitely the worst moment of Marinette’s life. They didn’t look like themselves. Their faces had no expression, there was no warmth whatsoever. It hurt to see them like that. Almost as much as seeing their tombstones next to Bridgette’s. It was too much. She just wanted to curl into a ball and sleep for a million years. Forget everything that’s happened in the past two weeks. So she curls up in her seat on the plane, latching onto Jason’s arm for comfort. Maybe she could take a couple weeks off of being a vigilante. Take some time to relax and try to make some sense of her new normal.
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