#i know it's only been a week but my 99+ disappeared so I may as well come back now

[winter-spark]

Embarassment party over. I'm patjetoc and we gotta keep that mindset.

[whatsnewalycat]

Passenger / Chapter 2

Pairing: Trucker!Din Djarin AU x OFC Charlie Wanderlust

Chapter Two: NY -> IL

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Series Summary: In her time tramping across the United States, Charlie Wanderlust has found life on the road to be challenging, but rewarding. When she makes enemies with a powerful figure, a bounty is put out for her capture. Din Djarin, a long-haul trucker and occasional bounty hunter, takes the job as a means to gain financial stability. Their paths cross, and as a result, the winding route of their lives are forever altered.

Rating: Explicit (18+ only)

Word Count: 4.7k+

Content / Warnings: modern-day au, alternating pov, second person pov, slow burn, vagabond ofc, dog grogu, enemies to lovers, bounty hunting, selling drugs, being held captive, handcuffs, swearing, lack of privacy and autonomy, food mention, urination mention, death threat, knife mention, gun mention, passive and massive aggression

Notes: Let me know what you think, thank you for reading!!

If there’s one thing you’ve learned about this guy in the day or so since he abducted you, it’s that he’s quiet. 

Now, when you say he’s quiet, you don’t mean he shuts down your questions with one word answers, or that he’s timid, or anything like that. You mean he has not acknowledged your presence since locking you into the bucket seat in his sleeper cab yesterday.

He ignores everything you say. It’s not for lack of trying on your part, either. So far this morning, you’ve attempted:

“Is there a toilet in here?” 

“I’m hungry.” 

“What’s your name?”

“Where are you taking me?”

“It’s Portland, isn’t it?”

“I have to pee.”

“Do you have a radio?”

“Like a music radio, not the CB.” 

“Don’t you get bored in here?” 

“I’m thirsty.”

“What’s your dogs name?”

“Can I pet him?”

“I’m gonna pet him.” 

“Seriously I think my bladder is gonna explode.” 

In response? Nothing. Radio fucking silence. He has talked to his dog more than he has to you. 

To be fair, his dog is very cute and lovable.  Probably a better conversationalist than his human, too. The white French Bulldog has been your only source of entertainment and socialization since coming onboard.

Meanwhile, all of your other needs are being pointedly rejected. 

You think that him keeping you locked in this five-point harness without access to food, water, or a bathroom might be punishment for your vitriol yesterday. At that point, you were still in the “anger” stage of grieving your freedom, and may or may not have spit at him after calling him a fascist fucking bootlicker. 

In your defense, he fucking abducted you. You’re 99% sure he’s bringing you to Portland to collect a bounty on your head. What did he say yesterday? 

“I can bring you in warm, or I can bring you in cold.” 

Dead or alive. 

If he doesn’t murder you before your arrival, that will come shortly after. You know it. All the people you went into that warehouse with are now unreachable. 

The last one you talked to was Cheese, and that was over two weeks ago. They told you everyone else was gone. Plucked off, one by one. Some of them turned up dead of an overdose a few days after disappearing. Others are still missing. Probably in the lost and found bin of a morgue or rotting under a bridge somewhere. 

If you don’t get the fuck out of here, that will be you. 

The truck rapidly drops speed as your captor hits the brakes and starts downshifting gears. Only a small slice of the outside word is visible from your place behind the passenger’s seat, but you see signs off the exit he’s taking. You recognize one as New York State Route 400. 

“Please tell me we’re stopping to use the bathroom.”

He doesn’t respond, so you stare daggers at his ear and cross your arms over your chest. Relief quickly melts your frustration when you see a Marathon gas station sign. 

The man parks his rig on the furthest edge of the parking lot. When he swings his legs into the aisle between the driver and passenger seat and rises, your whole body tenses. His eyes are concealed by the mirrored lenses of his aviators, but you can feel his assessing gaze. 

He takes a few steps towards you and crouches down, pulling the handcuffs from their case on his belt, then holds his hand out to you. 

“What?”

His head tilts to the side. Like he’s fucking annoyed or something. A flash of red burns your vision. 

“Oh my god I can’t with you,” you roll your eyes, then blink at him, “Just use your words, tell me what you want me t—hey!” 

He wrestles your wrist away from you, closing one handcuff around it, the other around a bolted-down grab bar on the wall beside you. All you can do for a moment is stare at your wrist and think: He is going to kill me. 

Before you can fully comprehend the thought, the man slides a key into the base of your seat and unlocks the harness, then stands.  

“Latrine under the seat,” he advises while clipping the dog’s leash onto his collar. 

“Are you fucking kidding me?” 

He doesn’t react. Just plucks his dog off the passenger’s seat and leaves, slamming the door behind him. 

The second stillness settles in the cab, it dawns on you that you’re alone. 

You jump to your feet and pull your weight against the handcuff, trying to yank yourself out. The metal ring crushes the bulk of your hand, digging hard into your skin. It refuses to budge. 

If you break your hand, it could be possible, but you don’t want to resort to that just yet. You dig in your pockets and run your free hand through your hair, looking for bobby pins you could use to pick the lock, but don’t find any. 

Next, you wrap your hands around the cool grab bar and pull as hard as you can. Nothing. Even when you prop a foot on the wall and yank violently, using your weight, it holds solid to the wall. 

Your bladder aches from neglect and sends an urgent notice to you brain. With a frown of disdain, you open the drawer under the bucket seat. Just like he said, there’s a shiny metal latrine. An old-timey piss pot. 

If you don’t relieve yourself soon, you’ll have to pee your pants or pop a squat in front of the fucking lunatic keeping you captive. 

So… you piss in the pot. 

When he returns, he wordlessly trades the dog for the latrine and empties it on the asphalt, then slides it across the floor to you and slams the door shut. You put it away and plop down in the bucket seat with a huff. 

The pocket knife in your bra pokes into you, as if to remind you of its presence. It’s a fucking miracle he didn’t find it while searching you. You could try to pick the handcuff lock with its blade, but don’t know where he is and when he’ll be back. 

If you’re going to make it out of this alive, you have to play it smart. You have to be patient and wait for the right opportunity. 

The dog, who was busy whining for a bit after his person left, eventually joins you in the sleeper cab. 

“He’s kind of a dick, isn’t he?” 

His big satellite ears perk up. He jumps on the bed and looks at you. 

“You seem nice, though,” you smirk, holding your hand out to the little bug-eyed pup, who sniffs you enthusiastically, “What’re you doing with a maniac like him?” 

He lets out a huffy sneeze, then stretches his hind legs out behind him, flopping down onto the the thin mattress. 

“Are you being held against your will, too?”

He grumbles and rolls onto his back. His floppy jowls sag from gravity, pink tongue hanging out the side. You snort at him and scratch his belly. His hind leg start kicking and his eyes squint with delight. 

You fawn over him for a few minutes before the driver’s door swings open. Upon seeing him, the dog flips over and springs into the passenger’s seat, spinning in circles, letting out little sneezes of excitement. 

Your captor pulls himself up into the truck and swings the door shut. He makes his way back to the sleeper portion of the trailer and drops a grease-stained fast food bag on the bed. While he moves about the cabin, rummaging through overhead storage for a gallon jug of water and a dog bowl, you eye his broad frame. 

Sure, he’s stronger than you and faster than you, but if you had the element of surprise on your side, you might be able to take him down and escape. Maybe you could hit him in the head with the piss pot and knock him out. Or stab him. 

Your skin tingles where the pocket knife is hidden, and you think: I really could stab him. 

RULE #8: Take care of yourself. 

The idea makes you shudder. It goes on the back burner for now.  

The dog jumps down to the floor and starts lapping at the water his person pours into the dog bowl. You stare at the water and suddenly remember how fucking thirsty you are. 

“Can I have some?” you ask.

The man rises and looks from you, to the gallon jug, then holds it out to you. 

You raise an eyebrow, “Straight outta the jug?” 

He doesn’t acknowledge the question, so you shrug and take it from him, muttering, “You know, usually when someone says something to you, it’s customary to respond. That’s how conversations work.” 

Once again, he ignores you. 

You roll your eyes and bring the jug to your lips with your free hand. The water is tepid and stale, but you guzzle it down like it’s the most refreshing beverage you’ve ever encountered. It streams down the corners of your mouth, but you don’t care. 

Panting, you hand it back to him. His dark eyebrow raise from over the frame of his sunglasses as grabs it from you. Before twisting the cap back on and returning it to the overhead compartment, he takes a few deep swigs. 

“Not afraid of my cooties?” you joke. 

Nothing. 

He snatches the fast food bag off the bed and lowers himself onto the mattress, pulling out a stack of napkins, then a few cheeseburgers. 

Another thing you’ve noticed about him is the way he carries himself. His rigid posture and concise movements. Everything he does seems practiced, competent, and strangely… proper, almost? 

It’s fascinating. 

The dog hops up next to your captor and stomps unceremoniously across his lap, diving headfirst into the crinkly bag. 

“Hey!” he tucks the dog into his side like a football and chastises him, “Just wait.” 

He pulls two boxes of fries out of the bag, slides one towards you, followed by a cheeseburger, then places the dog on the ground, “Sit.” 

The dog perks up and complies, his little tail stub wiggling against the rubber mat. 

Your captor unwraps a cheeseburger, gives it to the dog, then takes his food and moves to the head of the bed, leaning against the wall opposite you. 

“I don’t eat meat,” you inform him, “So if you want my burger, go for it.”

The man seems to consider this for a moment before he leans forward and grabs it, splitting it with the dog while you eat a few fries and try not to be completely obvious about your watching him. The dog whines while watching him eat. 

“Do you have dog food?” you ask. 

He looks up and says, “Dog food has meat in it.” 

You jerk back, shaking your head, “For the dog, not for me.” 

He stares at you. 

“Oh,” you blink, then scoff, “You’re trying to be funny. That was a joke. Hilarious. Ok. Well, your dog probably shouldn’t just eat cheeseburgers, it’s not good for him.” 

This is, predictably, met with no response. He raises his eyebrows and returns his attention to his food. 

When the man finishes eating, he opens the overhead compartment, pulling out a bag of dry dog food and another bowl. He makes a point to look up at you as he pours the kibble into the bowl. Your cheeks burn and you deflate for a moment before crossing your arms over your chest and muttering, “Good.” 

He moves up to the driver’s seat and starts tapping the screen of a tablet mounted to his dash.  

Din selects a southbound pickup approximately 30 miles out, drop off Nebraska. Off-course, but it pays enough. 

“Can I sit up there?” 

His jaw clenches. 

That’s if he can stand being in the same vehicle as you for that long. 

Normally when he picks up bounties, they’re either too scared to talk to him or get the hint after the first few unanswered questions. 

But not you. 

No, you are tenacious. 

And noisy. So noisy. 

It’s irritating enough that you ask him a question every five minutes, but on top of that, you make all these other sounds that never seem to cease. Toes tap-tap-tapping on the floor. Fingertips thrumming against the wall or the grab bar or your body. You hum and sing to yourself constantly. 

It is driving him crazy. 

He sets course for the pickup site and pats the passenger’s seat, “Come on.” 

“Are you talking to me or him?” 

You’re sitting there with this smart aleck look on your face, one arm dangling from a handcuff, the other splayed out on your thigh. Two fingers alternate pat-pat-pat-pat against your leg like you’re some kind of human metronome. 

The dog hops down off of Din’s bed and climbs into the passenger’s seat, spinning around a few times before curling into a ball with a hmph. 

“Buckle up,” he tells you. 

“How do you propose I do that, big guy? I have one hand.” 

Din sighs, then gets to his feet. While he’s hovering there, fastening you into the five-point harness, your breath scatters across his face. Your intense gaze burns his skin. 

He reaches for the buckle between your legs and you spread them further apart. Heat flickers at the base of his spine when he goes to snap the belt in place and his knuckles brush against your thigh. 

You say nothing. 

You don’t move. 

For once, you’re still. 

He clicks the seatbelt in place and locks it, then unfastens the handcuffs and returns  them to their place on his belt. 

You wring your wrist, cussing under your breath, and ask, “Can I have my guitar?”

“No.”

“Why not?” you stare up at him, chocolate brown eyes flicking around his face. Your sharp, almost boyish, features pinching up into a fierce expression.

Din bites his tongue and returns to his seat, while you let out an exasperated huff of, “Fucking asshole,” and cross your arms, scowling at the headrest in front of you. 

He stomps down on the clutch twice and shifts the truck into first gear. Tension melts from his muscles when he realizes the cab is finally quiet. Just the comforting roar of the engine struggling to generate torque as he slides from one gear to the next. 

When he gets to the highway and hits a sweet spot to cruise, the truck calms to a purr. Then he hears it. 

Tap tap tap tap tap 

The next exit your captor takes comes much sooner than you expected. 

You crane your neck to get a better view out the massive windshield and frown, “Where are we going?” 

Silence. 

You glare at the side of the man’s head and exhale a big sigh like you’re annoyed by his lack of response. 

But the truth is, your insides are humming. This is it. Your opportunity to get the fuck out of here. 

He’s picking up some kind of freight, you’re sure of it. Which means he’s probably going to get out of the vehicle to hook up the trailer. On the off chance that someone might peak into the cab, he likely won't handcuff you. You guess he’ll issue some kind of threat once the destination draws near in an attempt to intimidate you into not causing a ruckus. 

You check to make sure the blade hasn’t somehow disappeared and release a quiet, relieved sigh when your fingers rub against the hard object. The metal presses into your skin. That will stay put until you’re sure he’s occupied. 

You scratch the woven polyester of the harness strap. Throughout the years, you’ve found yourself in a variety of precarious situations, but have never needed to cut a seatbelt. Your mind buzzes with excitement. 

Do you stab it and let it rip? Or saw through the material? If you go with the saw technique, is it more effective to slide the blade against the flat plane of the strap, or go in at the edge? 

The truck drops a few gears in rapid, but smooth, succession, then turns into a factory parking lot. 

“It’s in your best interest to keep quiet while I do this.” 

So predictable. 

Out of curiosity, wanting to see if he has the balls to make his implicit threat explicit, you ask him, “Meaning what, exactly?” 

“Meaning if you talk to anyone, or try anything, I will kill you.” 

There’s no hesitation. 

You raise an eyebrow and scoff, but your mouth goes dry. Your throat gulps on its own accord. For a moment, you try to talk yourself out of this. Bargaining to try another route of escape. Another more concrete opportunity might present itself. Something that could give you more wiggle room. 

But a not-so-gentle reminder trickles down your spine: he’s delivering you to a fate worse than death. Under no fucking circumstances will you go there without a fight. This could be the only chance. 

You rub the knife through your clothes and eye the handle of the overhead compartment, mapping out where your pack and guitar are stuffed, contemplating whether or not you’ll even have time to get them before you bail. 

The man makes quick work of backing the truck up to the facility. He flips a few switches and shifts into park, then turns to face you, “Are you going to behave?” 

His voice is low and serious. The question, regrettably, makes something flutter at your core. Part of you wants to tell him no, just to see what he’d do. 

“Yes,” you lie. 

He tilts his head and stares at you for a moment, then holds out his hand, “Give me your knife.” 

Fuck. 

“What knife?”

“The pocket knife in your bra.” 

You snort and shake your head, “Pocket knife in my bra?” 

“I’ll give it back to you. But for now, I need you to give it to me.” 

You clench your jaw and cross your arms. 

“Do not make me take it myself,” he warns, “Neither of us want that.” 

Blood rushes to your head with a hot wave of anger. 

“Fuck you,” you spit, “Do you know what they’re going to do to me? Do you have any fucking idea what kind of a death march you’re leading me down? If you kill me before we get there, I’ll consider myself  fucking lucky.” 

The man doesn’t even flinch. His outstretched hand holds steady. Expectant. 

“Fucking piece of shit goon,” you mutter, but slip a hand under your shirt, under the elastic of your sports bra, and fish out your blade. With a flick of your wrist, you toss it on the floor, “I fucking hate you.” 

He picks the knife off the ground, slides it in his front pocket, then turns and opens the door. 

For what it’s worth, he returned the knife like he said he would. 

And the next time he stopped for food, after handcuffing you to the grab bar and giving you some private piss pot time, he brought you protein bars, french fries, and a chocolate milkshake. 

It’s not enough to make up for your complete lack of autonomy, but it’s more consideration than you were expecting. 

The sun set a while ago. Your sense of time is totally fucked, so you’re not sure exactly how long it’s been dark out, just that it feels like forever, and every time you try to look out the windshield or side windows, all you see is a a black void or the red glow of taillights. Sometimes you spot signs that give you clues to your location: Cleveland, Toledo, Chicago. 

The last one you saw was Davenport, shortly after you were ripped from sleep when the 18-wheeler hit a rumble strip off the road’s shoulder. Your captor jerked the wheel, then regained control, steadying his course. 

“Did you just fall asleep?” you asked him. 

He didn’t respond. 

“Hey,” you called, tossing a protein bar at his shoulder, “If you’re tired, you need to pull over and sleep.” 

“I’m fine.” 

“Bullshit.” 

Silence. 

So now you’re wide awake, unable to move or do anything about the fact that the mad man driving this giant fucking machine might drift off into dreamland at any moment. All you can do is watch him.

It’s hard to be sure, with the cab being so dark, but eventually you swear you see his head drooping. 

“You know, if you’re really insistent on driving, I have some uppers in my bag,” you tell him, “Rather have you a little too alert than falling asleep at the wheel.” 

“If you wanted me to get you your fix, you should have asked at the last stop.” 

You snap your head back and scoff, “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” 

He doesn’t respond, but you see his backlit hands gripping and releasing the steering wheel. 

“I don’t need a ‘fix’, jackass.” 

“So, what, you just deal speed out of the goodness of your heart?” 

His tone is snarky. You bristle even more. 

“I deal speed because, as you probably know, I happened upon a fuck ton of speed back in Oregon. I sell it for dirt cheap, just enough to get what I need, never in large quantities, and only when I have no other options for money. I rarely even—” you stop for a moment, tempted to drive into this man about the obvious flaws in his moral compass, but shake your head, “No, you know what? I don’t owe you, of all people, an explanation. So fuck you, man. Get off the fucking road and sleep before you hurt someone.” 

Silence falls over the cab, except for a brief stint of whining from the dog. 

When the man comes up on the next exit, he takes it. 

Din finds a place to park for the night. 

After giving everyone a bathroom break,  he secures the cabin by fastening a ratchet strap to each door’s hand hold, tightening until the strap is taut, then locking it in place. He tucks the key in his front pocket and turns to face the sleeper cab. 

The dog is laying on the mattress, propped up against the back wall with paws curled up in the air. Din looks at you, only to find you already staring at him. Well, actually, glaring might be more accurate. 

Between that and the way you’re strapped into the five-point harness, arms crossed tight over your small frame, you remind him of a sulking child. 

He approaches the overhead storage and pulls out your backpack. For a moment, he considers handing it over without further investigation. The bag is plumb full, and it’s apparent from a glance that you developed a particular system to get all your equipment to fit inside. 

But he has a hunch you’re carrying more than a pocket knife. The road can be ruthless to pretty women like you, regardless of how ferocious you actually are. Considering how adapted you seem to be to this lifestyle, he’s positive you know that and pack accordingly. 

As Din sorts your green rucksack’s carefully organized contents into two piles, he sees you out the corner of his eye, shifting in your seat and pursing your lips. Your rage is palpable. It’s mildly amusing. 

In one side pocket, there are dozens of small ziplock baggies, each containing 6 blue tablets. They go into the things he will keep for now pile. Everything from the other side pocket goes into the things you can keep pile: a few guitar picks, a pen, and a wallet. The wallet contains $54, a faded photo of a little girl and boy hugging each other, and an Iowa Driver License. He’s surprised to see the name Charlie Wanderlust printed on the ID. 

From the main compartment, he puts the following in the things you can keep pile: a tightly-rolled tent and similarly condensed sleeping bag, a few changes of clothes, a small bag of personal hygiene items, two notebooks, camping supplies, a tarp, and a bundle of dirty nylon rope. 

All the way at the bottom of the bag, he finds a pistol and some 9mm clips. He holds the gun up to examine it. GLOCK G19, semi-auto. It looks to be in good condition and well-maintained. 

Like he was with much of the rucksack’s contents, he’s surprised you’re carrying something so high-quality. The few hitchhikers he has encountered seem to be living off threadbare, secondhand equipment. But not you. 

It piques his curiosity. 

He releases the loaded magazine and tosses it to the side, along with the clips, in the things he’ll keep for now pile. The gun itself goes in the things you can keep pile. 

Once satisfied with his search, Din crouches down and puts the ammunition, pills, and ratchet strap keys in the safe under his bed, then slams it shut. 

He turns his attention back to you and finds your gaze still locked on him, dark eyes narrowed to slits. 

In his experience bounty hunting, he exclusively deals with men. 

Most bounties put out on women in the private sector are malicious in nature. Posted by jilted, often violent, men, looking to take back what they think is theirs. Even when there seems to be a morally acceptable reason for the bounty, it rouses his suspicion and leaves a bad taste in his mouth. 

He supposes there’s always an exception. From the information he was given, you are that exception. A lucrative one, at that. 

Some of the things you told him today are nibbling at the edges of his mind, though. 

“Do you know what they’re going to do to me? Do you have any fucking idea what kind of a death march you’re leading me down? If you kill me before we get there, I’ll consider myself fucking lucky.”

Granted, bounties tend to make a number of outlandish claims while trying to negotiate their release from custody. He has heard almost every sob story in the book. Lame attempts to appeal to his sense of humanity. 

He’s trying not to lend it too much credibility, but you seemed so genuine, so righteous, in your anger. 

Then there was the outburst that preceded him stopping for the night. 

Part of him feels guilty for making assumptions about you. Another part of him knows you might be lying, given the circumstances. But it seemed to come from deep within you, dredged up with a sense of disdain, like you didn’t even want to tell him. 

It was contrary to every experience he’s had with bounties trying to talk their way into freedom. 

After taking everything into consideration, he determined you are not likely a threat. A flight risk, sure, but not a threat. 

He unlocks and unbuckles your harness, then goes about his nighttime routine. You narrow your eyes and watch him. 

“What are you doing?” you ask eventually, the question bursting out of you like you can’t hold it in any longer, “What is this?” 

Din squeezes a line of toothpaste on his toothbrush, “Take the bed.” 

“I’m keeping my knife.” 

“I know.” 

He thrusts the toothbrush in his mouth and starts scrubbing in vigorous, concentric motions. 

You huff, then turn to your pile of worldly possessions and dig out the toiletry bag, asking him, “What makes you think I won’t stab you in the middle of the night?” 

Din spits blue foam into an empty bottle, then says, “You don’t seem like the type.” 

“Hell of an assumption,” you raise an eyebrow as you unzip your toiletry bag and fish out two elastic hair ties, sliding them around your wrist, “What if you’re wrong?” 

“If you try to kill me, you won’t succeed,” he stares you down to make sure he’s understood, “But I will.” 

“Ok, pal,” you snort in condescension, pulling half of your white blonde hair over one shoulder. As you start to weave the long strands into a braid, you say, “I don’t want to kill you. But,” your eyes snap to his, “If you try to touch me while I’m sleeping—or at any point in time, for that matter—I will sink that fucking blade into your eyeball without hesitation.” 

He nods. 

“Good,” you smile, “Then we understand each other.”

[bullet-prooflove]

WITSEC Part 3: Truth be Told - Will Halstead x Reader

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PREQUEL - MOMENTS  (NSFW) - Why did you and Will break up?

Part 1: Got You - Will and you come face to face after a traumatic event.

Part 2: Phoenix - Will contemplates the events that led him to this moment.

You’ve been back six weeks when a suspect takes you over the edge of the fire escape with him. The two of you had been grappling and before you knew it, the rusted guardrail gave way, and you were tumbling towards the concrete below. It wasn’t high enough to kill you, but the perp had broken his leg and you thought from the agony that lanced through your left shoulder that you may have dislocated it. Which was why you were now sitting in one of the trauma rooms in the Chicago Med waiting for the pain killers to kick in so Doctor Choi could pop it back into the socket.

You would have preferred to be anywhere else right now, but protocol dictated that both you and the perp were taken to the nearest hospital. Being back here without Will was strange, you swore you could feel his ghost haunting the trauma bays as you lay on the bed staring at the ceiling.  You wondered what people thought of you, of this situation. Will leaving just as you came back from your tenure in the FBI. Did they think you had a part to play in his disappearance?

You heard the curtain draw back and tipped your head expecting to see Ethan, instead you were confronted with the stoic expression of Natalie Manning.

“I thought the two of us should have a chat.” She said as she drew the curtain shut behind her.

“You know what Nat? I’m really not in the mood.” You informed her, gesturing at your arm.

“You’ve been dodging my calls.” She said, coming to stand alongside the bed so the two of you were eye to eye. “And if this is the only way the two of us get to talk so, be it.”

“I forgot how much you enjoy a captive audience.” You snarked, meeting her ferocious gaze with one of your own. “And we both know why I haven’t been picking up the phone.”

“Things have changed.” Jay told you back in a hospital room in Virginia. “He’s getting married.”

It had been a blow, you had to admit that, but you swallowed down that anguish because Will deserved to be happy. You were glad that he’d found someone to love him, to care for him, someone who could put him first.

“I’m pleased he found someone.” You told Jay. “Someone to look after him.”

Jay shook his head, before his hand came to rest on yours, squeezing lightly.

“No, you don’t understand.” He said quietly. “It’s Natalie, he’s marrying Natalie Manning.”

It had been like someone had stabbed you right through the heart and twisted the knife because Natalie had been a friend, a close one. It was Natalie you had first told about the job you’d been offered, Natalie who had encouraged you to take it because this was a once in a life time opportunity, Natalie who had told you not to worry, she would keep an eye on Will.

“You can’t be mad at me for falling in love with him.” Natalie said softly.

You knew how empathetic Will was, how understanding, how compassionate. He dived into everything with his heart and his soul, and it was invigorating to be around someone who lived like that, who wasn’t scared to be honest about who they were and what they wanted. He was easy to love.

“But I can be mad at you for pursuing him.” You retaliated. “Tell me, were you in love with him the whole time we were together or was it just after I left?”

Natalie’s lips clamped together, her gaze lowering. And you knew, you fucking knew.

“The whole fucking time?” You whispered. “Was our friendship even really about me and you?”

“I liked you.” she shrugged. “I cared about you.”

“You just cared about him more.”

Natalie said nothing, you sat there reeling at the information. You had suspected of course but suspecting and knowing were two different things and it felt you had been doused with ice water, your brain couldn’t function as you backtracked over your entire friendship with Natalie.

“Why did you come back?” she asked you. “Why now?”

You clenched your jaw, you could feel that pain and that anguish building up inside of you, you’d lost everything. Your lover, your friend and almost your life and Sarah, you had lost Sarah. It was acute and violent the grief, it washed over you like a wave.

“I didn’t come back for Will.” You fold her.

Her shoulders seem to relax at the statement, her fingers twisting the engagement ring on her finger. The one you’d found in his jacket pocket, the night you had told him about the job.

“Did you know about the investigation?”

“No.” You said honestly. “I got back a couple of weeks before it went down. It wasn’t even on my radar until that night.”

You didn’t tell her you had been on medical leave until the day it happened. Your first day back in Intelligence was when you realised something was going on with Jay. You’d been the only one left in the Squad Room when he had gotten that phone call, you’d heard Will’s name and you knew, you just knew something was horribly wrong.

Tell me, you had begged him. Jay could never lie to you, he knew you were the only one that was as invested in saving Will’s life as he was, that wasn’t focused on taking down a target. He filled you in on the way over to Med, you watched as he persuaded Connor to bring his informant out of sedation and you thought of the toll it must have taken on Will. How much pressure he had been under, how sick he must have been to be involved in something like this to have to hide it from the people around him, to balance so precariously on a knife edge of two lives.

When you’d seen him standing there, covered in blood you thought he’d been hit, and the air had rushed out of your chest. When he moved towards you, his hands running through your hair with that wrecked expression you couldn’t help but fall for him all over again. Those feelings you had buried, they never really went away. All you could feel was relief. Relief that he was alive and standing there before you and for the first time in two years you felt like you could breathe again.

“He’s moved on.” Natalie’s voice penetrated your thoughts drawing your attention back to her.  She fixed you with a hard gaze as she walked back towards the curtain, one hand gripping it. “You should too.”

Big Fan of Will! Get added to his tag list!

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[marosina]

Band!Eren pt. 3-1 (Hometown: Lore Tour)

Modern AU, reader x Eren, famous!Eren, band!Eren (guitar+vocals)

Series warning: 🌶️

Part 1

💫 When you arrive in Shiganshina for the band’s hometown show, you can’t help but feel giddy. Eren’s early lyrics included references to the people, places, and things all around you—and now you get to see them for yourself.

💫 You probably could have just driven over on show day, seeing as you live only a couple of hours away. However, you’ve decided to make this a weekend trip so you have time to explore beforehand and rest afterward. After checking into your hotel, you head out with a map of the sights you want to see.

💫 You start with the large wall separating the city from the seafront, which is mentioned in a number of lyrics. As you stand on top of it, wind blowing through your hair, you feel inspired to write your own.

💫 Then, you visit the high school the band was born from. You’re sure to take a picture for your friends back home. You even take a picture with the sign out front that reads “Go Titans!”

💫 You can’t be 100% certain, as it was never confirmed by the man himself, but you’ve heard through the rumour mill that the coffee shop you’re approaching is the same one Eren used to frequent; the building where most of their first two albums were written.

💫 As you open the door to Sonny’s Beans you’re now at least 99% sure that the rumours are true. There he is, sitting at a table in the back with two familiar strangers: Armin and Mikasa, his childhood friends. You’ve seen them in the few photos from Eren’s pre-band days that fanpages circulate from time to time. Eren’s mostly hidden behind a plant but you’d recognize those hands anywhere.

💫 His “stalker” comment from a few weeks ago rings in your ears, so you do your best to act like he’s not there. Celebrities deserve privacy too, and the other patrons seem to be on the same page. No one bothers them and you don’t either.

💫 You order your drink and sit at the window bar with your notebook, scribbling down the words your earlier sightseeing inspired. They’re not much yet but the cozy atmosphere of the coffee shop fills you with the energy to sculpt and refine them. It’s easy to understand why Eren spent so much time here.

💫 By the time you finish your drink, you’ve got a verse and hook. You pack up to leave, but before you can make it too far out the door you hear that smooth, deep voice call your name.

💫 Armin and Mikasa study you closely as Eren closes the distance. He wasn’t expecting to run into you before the show, especially when he’d just been talking about you to his friends. Not that he lets you know that. This is strictly professional, after all.

💫 You’re a bit embarrassed to be caught on your band lore tour and he teases you about it. It’s a bad idea, but he offers to treat you to dinner that night in exchange for your promise to never confirm the location. He made a deal with the owners years ago to try and preserve the quiet and stable lifestyle they preferred.

💫 You may or may not feel like you’re going to explode from his invitation but you’re determined not to show it. You accept and joke that you’ll even make a post to throw off the trail if he throws in dessert. Eren grins and suggests one a few streets over that ‘really deserves more hype’.

💫 Armin and Mikasa exchange a glance just as Eren says he’ll message you the details within the next couple of hours. You watch them disappear around the corner, Eren waving his friends off as they pester him. Then it hits you.

💫 Eren Jaeger—the man you’ve spent way too much time and money idolizing over the last couple of years—wants to spend his time and money on you tonight.

Fun fact: one of the local high schools in my hometown called their sports teams the “Titans”! I once cosplayed Mikasa in their practice gear c:

Tagging: @katestrophes @jaegersdiary

Comment or message to be added to tag list <3

Part 2 | Part 3-2: TBA

Fanart

[eveenstar]

In your hoodie dating headcanons, you mention that the only proxy allowed to be within readers presence is ‘Prowler.’ Who are they, and why are they the only one around reader, and how much can reader interact with the Prowler? I’m very interested in that

Hello! First of all, I was very very happy to get this because Prowler is my oc! <3 I plan on eventually writing a list of headcanons and backstory for him :)

-> Dating Hoodie headcanons

-> Slenderverse Masterlist

PROWLER & reader (a.k.a Hoodie's girlfriend)

-> WHO ARE THEY? Prowler is, surprisingly, a new generation proxy who climbed up the ranks rather quickly due to his strength and successful missions. He's a stalker, a former military man, who was also in a psychiatric hospital at some point. Only Hoodie knows that, though. He's kinda like...a mentor to Prowler? In a way. After what happened to a certain other second generation proxy...

-> WHY ARE THEY THE ONLY ONE ALLOWED NEAR READER? Like I said, Hoodie is sort of a mentor to Prowler. Not in the traditional way of things, because when you do catch them training together, it looks more like they're trying to kill each other rather than practicing. Hoodie will return with a few scratches, cuts, possibly even a stab wound (though that was only a one time thing...for now) and Prowler will leave with a limp and looking beat up. So, with this said, Hoodie "kinda" trusts Prowler to be around you. He doesn't trust anyone, but he's 99% sure Prowler knows his place. Even still, he's always near enough just...in case Prowler does something he shouldn't.

-> Even still, Prowler is a weird man. Well, he's a proxy, that's...sorta a requirement. He doesn't talk. He hardly even looks like he's breathing. Maybe that's why he has Hoodie's trust the most because of how alike they are. But maybe... just maybe, it's also because it takes one to know another. You don't know, but you suspect there may be something else to it. If Prowler is like Hoodie, and we all know how Hoodie is...

-> HOW MUCH CAN READER INTERACT WITH THEM? Very limited, very controlled. Prowler wouldn't talk to you even if you threw something at him (they'd probably break your hands for that). Hoodie is always around when he's around so you're never left alone with Prowler. He's dangerous, potentially one of the most dangerous proxies in the second generation (there's a reason why all his victims end up unrecognisable). Your interactions are short and cold, and you're not allowed to be in the same room as him for too long. Maybe 5 minutes in a good day.

->You'll find Prowler mostly outside the house (ironically, prowling around, looking for any wandering proxies, people or...other things). He only shows up a few times, often disappearing for weeks to no end, only to show up again. Less common and common, as you've heard there's been a slight...commotion amidst the proxies.

[thecoffeelorian]

"Good, good...so you're armed, and you have clearance. Now lie down."

"What--?!"

Crosshair barely pushes you back onto your bed in time before you hear the footsteps, the one sign available to you that indicates an Imperial Guard is nearby. Did he hear you talking? He must have.

Those upgraded helmets could have also upgraded their comm devices and earbuds in the time you spent away from Kamino. What if he--

"--Shhh. Just lie still until he leaves."

He doesn't dare speak above a whisper, but then again, he won't have to tell you twice. The growing sound of this Guard's mechanical breathing apparatus is more than enough to make you go rigid and silent, your face turned toward the wall to purposefully avoid having to stare into that faceless visor. Each new breath he takes makes the sick feeling in your stomach return, and with it, your fear of being discovered by him grows a little at a time.

"Who's still awake in there? Status report."

It's a sound you only ever heard in the hospital bays before, the sound of respirators keeping so many Troopers alive while they healed from blaster wounds, broken bones, concussions, infections, and so many other strange descendants of the Republic's battlefield. This Guard, curiously enough, rarely made it into those same bays because of how accomplished his team--also known as Delta Squad--had once been, according to all the stories. Curiouser still, you had once believed him to be far above serving any dictator--let alone this new 'Emperor' Palpatine—because as far as you were concerned, they were the closest things to heroes besides your own Clone Force 99.

How quickly the galaxy has seen it fit to teach you otherwise.

“...Ya know, you’re not in any trouble. Every Trooper gets insomnia once in a while, so...do any of you shinies want to tell me who turned that lamp back on?”

His voice sounds a little bit clearer now, so he’s got to be a little bit closer to you than before. He’s coming. He’s on his way, but you’re not going to look back at him. He may be so close as to notice that you’re only pretending to be asleep, but you are not going to look back at him. The moment that you do will be the same moment you disappear behind those massive gray doors, and then—

“—The kid had a bad dream.”

Then...nothing happens whatsoever. You’re fighting the urge to turn and see if he’s standing right behind you, but this Imperial Commando makes no sound of response. Shouldn’t he be trying to punish you right now, or something…?!

“You do know how kids can be, right? You obviously had nightmares at her age. I never met any other regs who didn’t, so...maybe you could do her a favor, and ignore the usual protocols just this once?”

You hear a low sigh from nearby, a shifting of old armor rattling in spite of its new technological upgrades—

“All right, Trooper. Just this once.”

--And then, whichever part of Delta Squad this Trooper is supposed to be--be he Boss the fighter, Fixer the hacker, or Scorch the accident-prone, as there was never any further word about Sev—simply walks away to continue his rounds of guard duty. He’s gone now. Crosshair helped him see just a little bit of reason, and he’s gone now.

[This is my last update before THE UPDATE, also known as me submitting the final story for @tbb-appreciation-week . That will come on Thursday, provided I don't forget to fully edit this thing before then and add a series of end notes. Until then...I'm also tagging @groguandthebadbatch for extra preview purposes. ^^ Peace out, everyone! ]

[ninebluehearts]

Hey !! i hope you are well ? i wanted to know if you can write an alphabet sfw with william tell ? Ps: I love your work 💕

Hi!! I'm pretty good! I hope you're doing well too! Thank you so much! You don't know how happy it makes me when people actually like my writing 😭💕 thank you for this ask! It's my first alphabet list, so bear with me 😂💕

-------------------------------------------------------

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?):

I think that William wouldn't be very affectionate at first. He's been through a lot and just doesn't seem like the type of person to really crave another's touch. But once he realized how much being physical meant to you, he'd slowly get better at doing it. His favorite way to show you affection is to hug you from behind while you're cooking.

B = Best Friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How did the friendship start?):

He would be that one bff that reply's quickly at first, then suddenly disappears for two days.

The friendship started in a casino. After watching him win seven rounds of poker in one sitting, you had asked him to show you his ways. After that, you spent the night talking about a million other things and exchanged phone numbers.

C = Cuddle (Do they like to cuddle? How do they cuddle?):

Again, he's not a very touchy-feely kinda guy, so cuddling is another thing he struggles with. He likes to have his routine: wrap sheets around everything, play a quick round of cards, then lay on his back with his hands folded over and chest to fall asleep. But now that he's trying with you, he's okay with you curling up against his side with his arm around you. He would never admit it, but he also likes to be the little spoon sometimes.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they with cooking and cleaning?):

I don't think he'd be apposed to marriage. He may think that it's kind of basic and unnecessary, but when you talk about it with him, he doesn't mind the idea of it. He said that kids might be a bit much, but that he would keep an open mind.

He's a very clean guy, we all know that. So he's great with cleaning. Cooking is eh to him, he doesn't mind doing it, but he prefers if you do it.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?):

Not gonna lie, I think he'd do it in the middle of a fight. You guys would be arguing for the millionth time this week and he would throw and his hands up and say "you know what? I'm done." Then pack up his things and go. He'd even block your number.

F = Fiancé (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?):

Again, he's not apposed to marrying you, but he wanted to wait until the right time to propose. Like when you're both financially stable and you both feel like your relationship is secure enough.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?):

I think you're the only person in the world he's gentle with. He likes to gently rub your back from time to time, or even just holding your hips and guiding you in another direction when you're in his way. Emotionally though.. he tries his best to communicate in a way that doesn't make him sound like a jackass, but sometimes he'll word things wrong and ends up making you cry. He always apologizes and tries to fix it, but it's another thing he's working on.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

After awhile, he's great with hugs. He let's you initiate them 99% of the time though. I think his hugs would be very comforting; he wraps his arms around your waist and presses you against him, using just the right amount of pressure to where you're not gonna suffocate, but you feel secure.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L word?):

Well, you said it eight months into the relationship and he disappeared for a week- It's not that he doesn't love you, it's just that he's scared because you love him. He's probably start saying it back around the two year mark of your relationship.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?):

Omfg does this man get jealous- whew, he gets pissed when he's jealous. He gets very quiet for awhile turning the situation around over and over again in his head. You had been talking to a coworker that was getting a little too flirty and boy, he didn't like that. I think he would firmly wrap his arm around your waist and walk you back to your table, barely talking for the rest of the night.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?):

His kisses would be soft, but they toe the line of being too firm. He loves to kiss you along the length of your arm; kinda like Gomez does to Mortisha in Addams Family. Omg he loves it when you kiss him on his forehead.

L = Little ones (How are they with kids?):

He's pretty okay with kids. He couldn't babysit them by himself, but he doesn't mind them. He only hates it if they start scream-crying.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?):

Eh, they're okay. He's super eager to get up and start the day, so he only let's you guys stay in bed and cuddle for five minutes each morning.

N = Night (What are nights like with them?):

Nights are better than mornings. He's traded out that quick card game to watch a movie/show with you. He likes to sit on the couch and watch whatever you put on while drinking a beer and having you cuddled up on him under the blankets. It's his favorite way to relax now.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they reveal everything all at once or do they wait awhile to reveal things slowly?):

Honestly? He would be pretty open immediately. Not about the deep stuff, like his childhood, but he would often times go into detail about the things he'd seen in prison.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?):

He gets angered kind of easily, but he has a good pokerface, so you usually don't know that he's angry until he either explodes or gets really quiet.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you remember in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?):

He remembers everything. You're actually shocked that he doesn't have some book about you somewhere. A year ago you told him that you didn't like vanilla ice cream and to this day he never buys you ice cream that has anything to do with vanilla.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment from your relationship?):

Your first kiss. Sure, it's kind of basic, but it's his favorite because it was the moment both of you really connected and started falling for each other. He never told you, but the minute your lips pressed against his, he knew he loved you.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?):

He's very protective. He's not annoying about it, but he does watch you a lot. You'll be sitting at a bar playing on your phone while he plays a game of poker, and he somehow manages to keep track of the game and look back at you every three minutes. He doesn't want you to protect him, he says that it's his job to take care of both of you. But when he wakes up in the middle of the night to you holding him as close as you can, he can't help but feel safe, like you're somehow protecting him in your sleep. He just loves it.

T = Try (How much effort do they put into gifts, holidays, anniversary's etc?):

He puts a good bit of effort into getting you a present he knows you'll love. It's almost always jewelry, but it's all the stuff you like: small and simple. He also like to get you a bouquet of your favorite flowers.

U = Ugly (What are some bad habits of theirs?):

Ugh, the gambling. Sure, he wins most of the time, but when he told you he lost over 500 dollars, you thought you were gonna kill him.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?):

He likes to look good: neat and precise. He shaves as often as he needs to and makes sure his shirt matches his pants. Nothing too extreme.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?):

Yes. If you weren't there, he'd be a bit clueless and lonely. Really, he wouldn't know what to do with himself. He'd probably spend more time at the casinos.

X = Xtra (A random hc for them):

His favorite show is Rick and Morty. If he is in a bad mood and needs a good laugh, he'll put it on while he practices with his cards.

Y = Yuck (What are somethings they wouldn't like, in general or in a partner?):

In general, he hates it when people dip their eggs in ketchup. He thinks it's absolutely disgusting. In a partner, he wouldn't date anyone who is unhygienic or unorganized. He couldn't deal with it honestly.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habit of theirs?):

This motherfucker snores so bad. You've had to wake him up and roll him over quite a few times because you just can't sleep.

[yougottalovebuckybarnes]

Me Before You (Bucky x Reader)

A/N: Soooo.... I was originally going to make this short and sweet, a little angsty. But, as I kept writing, I decided I needed to make this like 99% angst and maybe 1% fluff? Honestly, this may have been one of the saddest stories I've written so far, so be warned! Let me know what you all think! To those who have sent in requests: I promise you I've seen them and I'm working on them. It'll just take a little bit of time! :)

-M <3

=======

Word Count: 2.9k

Warnings: ANGST, sad themes, etc.

=======

Bucky never felt more at peace than when he was with the woman that he loved. If he could have it his way, he would spend all of his afternoons lounging on a blanket in a park and listening to her tell stories of her adventures at work. Unfortunately, Bucky was not always able to have that luxury. But, he always reserved Fridays a quarter past twelve to share his lunch with her. And that was where Bucky found himself now.

“Do you ever wonder what happens to us when we die?”

Bucky frowned, gazing up at her from his place flat on his back on their shared blanket. The question felt so sudden and very unexpected. As a man who was over a hundred years old, he supposed that he considered the reality of death every now and then. But after the threat of Thanos had disappeared and the events with the Flag Smashers had come to pass, Bucky only ever thought about what the rest of his life held for him.

There was no time to consider the end of his life when it felt like it was just beginning. Decades locked under HYDRA’s control that was followed by five years of emptiness after the battle in Wakanda stole everything from him. Time, his family, and even Steve. As hard as it had been to move on from that loss, Bucky never considered that this was the end. But he found significantly more joy once he met Y/N. A new purpose, a new future… a new life.

“I suppose I have.” Bucky shrugged, his gaze fixed on Y/N as she ate the last of her sandwich. “But I have nearly died too many times to count. I’m not ready to think about that part of my story yet. I want to make these years count.”

“Of course.” She smiled down at her boyfriend before laying down beside him, her head turned to face him. “I always just worry there will never be enough time.”

“What? Because you’re dating a man born over a hundred years ago?” Bucky snorted, a small smile playing on his lips. But the silence that followed made it drop immediately. “Are you actually worried-“

“Look, I’m not stupid. It’s not like you’re going to drop dead any day now.” Y/N laced her fingers through his vibranium ones, bringing his hand up to kiss it gently. “I just worry about what the future will look like. I was scared shitless when you disappeared with Sam for weeks. I just don’t know what I would do if something happened to you, baby. I really don’t.”

“Doll, I assure you, nothing will happen. And nothing has happened, thanks to this fancy new arm.” Bucky smiled but felt it falter when noticing the lingering anxiety on her face. Guilt blossomed in his chest at the sight of her discomfort. How could he not have noticed this before?

He rolled onto his side, letting go of her hand and gently cupping her face with his other hand. “Y/N, look at me.”

Her eyes flashed to his, and for a moment, Bucky felt his heart stutter in his chest. God, he would never get used to how beautiful they were.

“There is only one way that I will ever know what happens after death.”

“ And what way is that?” Y/N whispered, leaning into his touch gently.

“It will only happen after I have lived a long, happy life with you. Preferably somewhere away from this busy city, maybe with a few kids. Or, a few dogs. I’m very open. “

A soft giggle escaped her lips and Bucky smiled, letting his thumb gently wipe away a stray tear that fell from her eye.

“What I know for sure is that I will love you for every last day I exist in this life, and that is a promise.” His heart nearly melted at the sight of her smile. “ I want to live this life with you for as long as I can. But above all that, I promise you that it will be me before you, sweet girl. You will be the one to bury me.“

“I don’t think that I will survive losing you,” Y/N whispered, her hand moving to rest on top of the one I placed on her cheek.

“It’s a good thing that won’t happen for decades, at the very least.” Bucky smiled gently. “If we’re lucky, we’ll be senior citizens warm in our bed. “

“I’m trying to imagine an eighty-year-old Bucky Barnes with a metal arm. It’s hard to visualize that in my head.” “It’s a good thing that you’re stuck with this gorgeous physique for at least another decade. It’ll prepare you.” Bucky laughed, and at the sound of her own giggle, he knew that her anxieties were at least beginning to be comforted.

Truthfully, the idea of death scared Bucky Barnes to his core. But not only for himself. Before meeting Y/N, he would have felt content to have passed away any day now. He had lived over a hundred years, even if a significant chunk had been spent in terrible circumstances. Bucky had watched his closest friend leave him behind for his love, and he had accepted it surprisingly well. Sure, he had Sam, but for the longest while, it felt like all they could do was argue.

But now, Bucky was hopeful for a long life. And he also feared any threat of harm that came toward Y/N. He had spent quite some time worrying about her safety while he was away with Sam, and even now, that fear lingered in the bank of his mind. Y/N did not care about the risks that came with being with him, and part of that made Bucky love her even more. But the lingering fear somehow always made its way back to him.

“Thank you for loving me… and comforting me, even if my fears are stupid.” Y/N rolled her eyes playfully and Bucky shook his head gently, wrapping an arm around her waist to pull her closer to him.

“Nothing about your fears are silly, doll.” He reassured her, gently pressing his lips against her forehead before pulling away. “I just don’t want you to fear losing me. I promise you I’m here as long as you want me.”

“Forever?” Y/N gazed up at him, and a smile lit up Bucky’s face.

“Forever it is.”

======

It had been years since that day in the park, and her request for him to stay with her forever remained etched in his memory. Just over two years after that day, he reaffirmed that promise at the alter, nearly in tears at the sight of his love dressed in white and looking as beautiful as ever. Life felt much simpler after that. After they returned from their honeymoon, the two lovers began to search for a home away from the city. Their small apartment in the city worked decently enough, but it was time to leave this life behind.

Y/N had finished her final day of work, quietly making the trip back to their apartment as the sun slowly began to set. Although the day was over, more work awaited her at the apartment. After months and months of searching, Bucky and Y/N had finally found a house that they loved. In only a few days, they would be leaving the city for good. The buzzing of her phone caught her attention, a smile lifting her lips at the sight of her husband's name on the screen. “Hey baby, I’m just leaving the office. I shouldn’t be more than five to ten minutes.”

“Sounds great. Sam offered to help us finish packing, so I just picked him up and we’re going to get some food. What sounds better: Chinese or pizza?”

“Bucky, you know that I can cook. I don’t mind making a little extra for Sam.” Y/N rolled her eyes, as their apartment building came into view.

“Nuh-uh. You just got home from work, and we still have to finish packing. No more stress on your end. “

“Okay, fine, pizza sounds great.” She let out a small laugh at the sound of him squabbling with Sam in the background. “I’m going to let you two children go. Please play nice. I’ll need all the help I can get once you’re home. I love you.“

“Okay. I love you too, doll. We shouldn’t be long.”

She hung up the phone with a smile and stepped into the apartment building, completely unaware of the dark and hooded figure lingering behind her.

====

“I can’t believe your apartment building has no elevator, and you’re on the very top floor. A terrible choice, really.”

“One of the benefits of moving.” Bucky snorted, the pizza box firm in his hands as the two of them climbed up the stairs, approaching the last set before reaching their floor. “We did get our exercise in for the day each time we climbed up, though. That shall be missed.”

“I’m sure you’ll find something to do in your house in the middle of nowhere. “ Sam rolled his eyes. “Speaking of, when are you going to let me come visit?”

“Jesus, let us move in first before you plan your first visit, okay?” Bucky let out a laugh as they finally made it to the top. “I-“

His sentence was cut off at the sight of the front door of his apartment open. The carpet leading to the door was splattered with a substance, and Bucky felt his heart drop as he identified it as blood. Without a word, he shoved the pizza box into Sam’s chest and ran towards the apartment.

The sound of a fist connecting with flesh was the first thing he heard as Bucky pushed through the door. Y/N lay collapsed on the floor, her body shaking with sobs as she pleaded with the larger figure who knelt over her, his hand raised to strike again.

Bucky’s body slammed into the man, before ripping him off of her body and throwing him to the ground only feet away. His vibranium hand struck the intruder's nose with a sickening crunch, and he did not hesitate to strike again before wrapping it around the man’s throat tightly.

“Who the fuck do you think you are?” Bucky shouted, his grip tightening at the beginnings of a smirk on the man’s face. “How did you get in here?”

“Bucky!” Sam’s voice interrupted the conversation but Bucky did not spare a glance.

“Answer me!” Bucky’s voice grew nearly to a full scream, hysteria building up in his chest.

The intruder let out a broken laugh, glaring up at the super-soldier as he pulled on his jacket lapel to reveal an all-too-familiar symbol. “You know who sent me. They will never stop searching for you. It’s too bad I had to find her first, though. What a beautiful wife you have, Soldat.”

Bucky’s jaw clenched as he prepared to slam his fist into his face again, but his wrist was caught in midair. He whirled his head round to find Sam. “I called the police. Let me take him, Bucky. Y/N needs you. Now.”

The solemn look in Sam’s eyes caused Bucky to freeze, but eventually, he released the intruder before rushing to his wife’s side. His heart ached at the bruises forming on her face, and the stream of blood spilling from her nose. Y/N looked exhausted, her eyelids fluttering between consciousness and falling into darkness. But Bucky wouldn’t allow her to close her eyes. He couldn’t.

“Baby, you need to keep your eyes open for me.” Bucky’s voice was weak as he moved to lift her into his arms. But as his hand brushed against her stomach, the wet, sickeningly familiar warmth of blood stopped him. His gaze fell to find her entire abdomen covered in blood, soaking through her clothes and onto his hands. A gun lay a handful of feet away, evidence of what had happened before he had made it inside.

“H-He missed with the first few bullets, and got me with his last one.” Y/N let out a painful laugh as she looked up at Bucky. “He was a terrible shot.”

“How can you joke at a time like this?” The super soldier managed to breathe out, ripping off his t-shirt and trying to press down on her wound despite her wince. “He just shot you and you’re bleeding out on the kitchen floor!”

“I thought it would make it easier.” Y/N’s voice fell to a whisper, and Bucky’s eyes quickly flickered up to hers.

“Make what easier?”

“Make it easier to say goodbye…”

Bucky’s head immediately began to shake, his throat beginning to grow thick with tears as he continues to press his shirt against her bullet wound.

“Don’t you dare start saying your goodbyes. We’re going to take you to the hospital and you are going to be just fine.”

“I-“

“No!” Bucky snapped, his gaze focused on the blood that was beginning to soak up the fabric of his shirt. “Everything is going to be fine!”

“Baby, please….” Y/N’s voice was a heartbroken sob, and he finally pulled his gaze to meet hers, his eyes beginning to water. “I-I’m so sorry.”

The sounds of sirens began to ring in the air, but they did nothing to mask the cries that escaped Bucky’s lips as he cradled her broken body in his arms, his face pressed into her hair as he felt himself begin to fall apart.

“I-I’m sorry it has to be me before you, Bucky.” Y/N’s voice was weak, and he closed his eyes, tears dancing behind his eyelids as he knew her energy was beginning to fade away. He felt her hand grab his vibranium one, and his eyes opened as she pressed her lips against the top of his hand. “Y-You gave me forever in these few years, my love. And I-I’m so thankful for that.”

Bucky gently pulled away and cupped her face in his hand, gently stroking her cheek with his thumb. “I love you. “

“I love you too. Forever.” Y/N’s lips trembled as she gazed up at the love of her life, beginning to crumble in front of her. “Can you do one more thing for me, baby?”

The sounds of emergency service workers in the building broke into the conversation, but all Bucky could focus on was his darling wife, his heart breaking as she began to lose her strength.

“What do you need, doll?”

“Kiss me.” She whimpered softly, and Bucky nodded slowly before leaning in and kissing her gently, savoring the taste of her lips against his for what most likely would be the last time. As he pulled away, the room was swarmed with EMTs, who urgently began to pull Y/N from his arms. Her eyes had fluttered shut, and all Bucky could do was pray as they pulled her out of the apartment and to the hospital.

======

Y/N Y/M/N Y/L/N died at 6:45 pm after arriving at the hospital, despite several attempts to resuscitate her. Bucky and Sam had arrived not long after handing over the intruder to the police, urgently wanting updates on her condition. Sam had never seen grief as deep as Bucky’s when they were told Y/N had passed away. The super soldier had sunk to his knees, his body beginning to tremor as fresh tears washed over him again. Sam stayed with him, trying his hardest to hide his own tears as he coaxed Bucky off the ground and away from the hospital.

Bucky stayed with Sam until the funeral. He could barely pull himself out of bed to go, his sadness weighing him down. But Sam refused to let him miss it, practically pulling him out of bed and shoving his clothes at him. Although his grief would lessen with time, the regret for missing her funeral would stay with Bucky for the rest of his life.

The two of them went and sat quietly as the funeral progressed. Bucky could barely look at any of her family members, a pang of immense guilt sinking over him each time they pulled him into a tight embrace. Their daughter, sister, niece… had been murdered because people wanted to get to him. There was nothing that could be done to undo what had happened. Y/N would never come back.

As the guests attending began to leave, Bucky stood and approached where the casket had been lowered into the ground. He knelt beside it, his eyes swimming with tears as he gazed upon his bride, dead and now resting for good underneath the ground.

“It should’ve been me before you, my love. I am so sorry I failed you.”

With one last look, he stood up and walked towards the exit briskly, Sam following hot on his trail. “Where are going so fast?”

“To track down any and all of those monsters who are still out there.” He turned and look at Sam. “Are you with me?”

Sam looked at his friend silently, sadly, as he watched his pain begin to morph into anger. There was no doubt in his mind that HYDRA needed to pay for what had been done. But was this the right way? And was this the right time?

“I’m with you.” Sam finally answered, and Bucky nodded, glancing back towards the funeral before walking away.

“Then let's go.”

======

A/N 2: I.... I have no regrets. Thanks for reading! <3

[bigbadripley]

Chapter 9 - N. Michigan Gospel

Marc Spector/Steven Grant x Female!OC

Summary: Marc never expected to see his childhood friend Simone ever again. To Simone, Marc may as well have been dead. However, when Simone met Steven 15 years after Marc disappeared, she couldn’t help but notice how familiar he was.

18+ | 2kish Words | Third-person omniscient | Dark?fic | AU/AT |

Warnings: Heavy language, OC with religious trauma, childhood trauma, sexual trauma,  the effects of this in adulthood, not much else in this one, just kinda cute.

A/N: I update warnings with each chapter. Only proceed if you can handle the themes included in the warnings. I wrote this entirely as a trauma dump.

Minors DNI, DL;DR, if I miss a warning, please let me know.

Chapter list

"Who do I take my broken pieces to? I don't think I can fix a broken piece of you If I hid away you'd find me anywhere I laid How do I justify my peace to you?" -"N. Michigan Gospel" by 99 Neighbors

 Simone knew only one way to work through her troubles: to push herself into her job. She hadn't spoken to Marc or Steven in a few days, unsure what to do or where to begin. 

Her one o'clock arrived on time, as always. She made sure to start a fresh pot of coffee for them and set everything up how she liked before they showed. 

"How was your week, Jason?" Simone asked with a smile. She only knew it was Jason she was speaking to because of how he sat, spread-legged and hunched over. Jason shrugged,

"Alright, I guess. It's been a little tough." He answered. Simone knew the kind of troubles that Jason had, but she needed to ask, as always. 

"Oh, yeah? What's been going on?" She wondered, crossing her right leg over her left to signify comfort in the conversation and coax honesty and openness from the patient. 

During the brief patch of silence before Jason spoke again, there wasn't a single sound besides the clock ticking on her office wall. She kept meaning to take it down because of how nervous it made everyone, but she always forgot. 

Finally, Jason cleared his throat and began. "Corey's been spending more time with Carrie lately."

Simone knew all the names and ages and didn't need further confirmation of their relationships, but played into it regardless. "Well, is Corey not Carrie's partner?"

"Yeah, but so are Lonnie and me." Jason answered. It was the same thing from Jason every week, and even though he didn't care for their visits, he took advantage of their time together. 

"I suppose Corey doesn't feel like speaking to me today?" Simone wondered. Corey was the system's host: his body, but Jason was the protector. Jason typically takes over the beginning of the appointments due to Corey getting anxious. 

"I guess it depends on if he decides to come back out," Jason said. It was the same event every time, and she knew Corey would come soon enough. 

"We'll give him some time. How do Janet and Killian feel about Carrie?" She brought up the other two parts of the system. Whether her sheet says Corey Klein or not, they were all patients of Dr. Fredrick.

"They don't care for her, 'think she's weird for dating 3 of us at once, but what do they know?"

"Dating a host with four alters can be overwhelming," Simone said as she got up. And yet, I'm struggling to comprehend how to juggle a two-man system. She thought to herself. "Coffee?"

"Yes, please. And I think Janet and Killian's problem is that she only wants us. Maybe if Carrie opened up to the idea of dating the system, we wouldn't have so many problems." Jason suggested. Simone put two sugar cubes in the spare coffee mug she kept in her office that read "Trust Me I'm A Doctor" and stirred it. Black with no cream, just sugar, the way Corey liked it. She tapped the stirring staw on the side of the mug before she added to Jason's point,

"That's one way to look at it, but you also need to think: you just told me that you have issues with how she spreads attention between the three of you." Simone pointed this out as she sat a cup of coffee between them.

Jason stared blankly at the dark liquid on the table, unresponsive for a moment before he sat straight. Corey had arrived. 

"Hey, Dr. Fredrick." He greeted in his normal mild-mannered tone. Even his voice was completely different from Jason's. Simone smiled and retook her seat, 

"How's things with you, Corey?"

"Oh, you know, living the dream of a call center employee. Gotta love it." He joked as he picked up the coffee. Simone chuckled,

"So you're struggling with work?"

"Yeah, I got a less-than-perfect performance eval back, and it was because of my lost time." 

"I'm guessing you don't mean skipping out of work?"

"I mean one of the roadies popping in unannounced while I'm working. Suddenly dissociating while talking with a customer isn't great for reviews... Isn't great when you're trying to have a good time with your girlfriend, either." He explained, referring to the parts of his system as his "roadies."

Simone thought about how this situation differed from Marc and Steven's and how Corey can't tell what happens when the others are present. She imagined how it would be more difficult that way. 

"-I mean, really, Dr. Fredrick, how often do you get patients with this issue?" Corey asked, seeming genuinely curious if he was alone in this struggle. Simone hadn't realized she had zoned out from what he was telling her, but took it back to the last thing she heard,

"Well, I only have two other hosts as regulars, but I can say that they fear putting themselves out there with the stigma behind the disorder and the idea of having a relationship where the other parts are involved," Simone explained. "Do you feel that way at all?"

"I used to but... I've come to realize that I'm blessed, yeah? Carrie's great, and she's so understanding... and I love my system, but if I only had them for companionship? I'd lose my mind! I'd be as good as dead, to tell ya the truth!" 

This struck a chord with Simone. She had been trying to tackle it all week. Begging for some reason to go forward with this awful idea of bringing Marc back into her life and pursuing this relationship with Steven further. Her reasons became clear, but she found herself wanting a second opinion. 

 While Simone was at work, Marc and Steven tried to put something special together for her in hopes of a truce. Steven wanted to take a gift of small things she enjoyed, while Marc wanted to take her somewhere she would like. 

They were both lost in implementing these ideas and were working off borrowed time between the blips of missing time that seemed more frequent these days. 

Marc cursed Steven for getting involved with Simone before they had a better grasp on this, but now they were on a mission to work things out with her, even if it felt selfish. 

"I think if we got a wicker basket and put some nice things into it, that would be fine, yeah?" Steven suggested as they strolled the near-empty market. Marc thought the idea needed to be better and quickly made that known.

"No, no, no! That's too simple. We're trying to pursue a relationship, not play Easter Bunny." He said. 

Regardless of their decision, they knew they needed something unique that wouldn't break the bank. Marc's stash away money was dwindling since separating from Khonshu a year prior, and they had not kept steady work due to conflicting interests. 

Steven wanted to wait for Simone's input for date planning, fearing they might do too much or too little. "What if we dropped the gifts off at the office for her? A nice surprise that shows we're thinking about her."

The idea brought Marc back to when they were in school, and other kids would get gifts from their parents dropped off at school for Valentine's day. Even if the idea was superficial, it would make her happy. "That could work."

 Simone went back to her place on her lunch to chow down on the Chinese takeaway she had put up from the night before. Once she arrived, she was pleasantly surprised to find Joyce in her loungewear, propping her feet up. 

"How was Greece?" Simone asked as she pulled the paper box of rice from the fridge. Joyce scoffed,

"Been there over a dozen times, never gets old." She said. When Joyce spoke again, Simone grabbed a bowl from the cupboard and scooped the food into it for microwaveability. "How's your new man friend? You get some dick yet?" She asked nonchalantly. 

Simone grinned and shook her head as she started nuking the rice. "What does that matter?"

"Because I live vicariously through you! I barely have time for myself, let alone men!" She defended. Simone turned around to face Joyce and braced herself on the counter,

"I did, actually." She admitted. Joyce swung her head forward and sighed,

"About time, innit? Been a dry year for you." 

Simone realized she was in a unique situation where she felt it weird to talk about how it went with Joyce. Still, she realized she might be better suited to get the second opinion she wanted from the woman who not only knew her best but studied psychology for a year and a half before settling on being a pilot. 

Do you mind playing therapist for a moment? She asked, ignoring the beep from the microwave. Joyce put her feet back on the ground and sat up, scooting to the edge of the recliner, 

"I'm all ears." She said. Simone grabbed the rice bowl and sat in the living room on the loveseat next to Joyce. 

"So, you know how I was saying Steven- my man friend, as you said- looked familiar, but I could put my finger on how?" 

"I do remember that, but what does it have to do with your getting laid?" Joyce wondered. Simone took a deep breath and began explaining the events that transpired between her and Steven, then overexplaining how Steven and her old friend Marc were the same. 

Once Simone had explained everything, Joyce stared at her for a long while, and Simone swore she saw the gears turning in her head as she built a diagram of what it all meant before she finally said something. 

"Your first love Marc and your new flame Steven are the same bloke, and you didn't know that until after you slept with them? Red flag central, Simone!"

"I know, Joyce, but is it bad that I'm considering this?" Simone asked, feeling stupid saying it out loud. Joyce shrugged,

"You want two boyfriends? You barely have luck keeping one, no offense." 

"None taken, I know I do, and that's why it seems so crazy to me, but I can't stop thinking about both of them. I just don't know what to do."

"The rational play therapist Joyce wants to tell you that you should let sleeping dogs lie and forget about what you used to have with Marky-Marc, and if you can't have his funky bunch without him, then break it off." Joyce started. The analogy made Simone laugh, even if the context made her heart ache slightly. "But, the hopeless romantic Joyce wants you to go for it and see what happens." 

Simone considered it momentarily as she picked at the mound of rice and veggies, thinking of how her session with Corey went. 

Can I be as patient as Carrie? She wondered to herself. Simone suddenly felt less hungry and more nervous as she thought up how to approach Steven and Marc with this. Instead of stressing, she did the one thing she knew to do best: throw herself back into work. 

When Simone returned to the office, she was met with a gift basket on her desk. The basket contained dark chocolates (her favorite), gel pens (the superior kind), a legal pad (she was running out of new pages), Star Wars stickers (for fun), and a big bag of Haribo's Twin Snakes (her candy of choice when she was a kid) and to top it all off, a card with a pug on the front that said: "Get Excited!" with "Much love, Marc and Steven" written on the inside. 

What a couple of fuckin' sweethearts. She thought to herself as she grinned uncontrollably. Every bit of what they got related to something they knew about her if they paid attention, which they clearly did. 

Simone pulled her phone out and took a picture of the basket where she found it, and sent it to Steven's phone with a caption that read: 

Thank you both! Meet me at mine about 6. 

To Steven and Marc, this meant mission accomplished. 

[lilaclaly]

I posted 401 times in 2022

12 posts created (3%)

389 posts reblogged (97%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@clarabosswald

@tonkshamsandwich

@dog-nova

@christophernolan

@manny-jacinto

I tagged 351 of my posts in 2022

Only 12% of my posts had no tags

#sw - 99 posts

#star wars - 56 posts

#kenobi series - 52 posts

#stranger things - 51 posts

#obi wan kenobi - 48 posts

#hotd - 38 posts

#stranger things 4 - 37 posts

#house of the dragon - 36 posts

#anakin skywalker - 34 posts

#obikin - 34 posts

Longest Tag: 90 characters

#since 2011 ive been telling my pjo friends that i always like percy w rachel than annabeth

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

all i want in this season is main character protagonist gay™ william byers

and ofc byler

70 notes - Posted May 25, 2022

#4

there is more than 24k fics of merthur on ao3, so there must be one where merlin just disappear for a long time and arthur freaks out and a lot of things happens in between and arthur realizes how in love with merlin he is

79 notes - Posted November 27, 2022

#3

you know whats funny to me? people think that el is the main protagonist of stranger things bc shes the one with powers and that can stop the monsters from the upside down.

but for me is like not that at all. for me the real protagonis always was will byers. everything started bc of him. sure, el opened the portals two times, but thats all that she did. she opened the portals for the monsters (and that wasnt her fault at all.) but everything else that happened it was a consequence of will’s disappearance. el wouldnt have meet the party if it them went out looking for will. she would be probably capture eventually and went back to the lab.

the main clue for me its that how the fuck a twelve years old kid escaped and survived for a week on that toxic environment, and everyone else was killed right after they got there? 

for me, will always had powers but they manifested when he was in the upside down. i mean how did he communicated with joyce if the UD was stuck in time on the exact day that he went missing? the thing with the lights if i remember correctly was one or two days after he went to the UD. and why didnt the demogorgon attack and killed him right after they went to the UD? why it saw him biking and went for him when he wasnt even bleeding?

and then in season 2 when will was possessed by the mindflayer he said that the mindflayer didnt want him, but everyone else. i doesnt make sense if u want to use someone someone to get to others and let only him alive. most villans use and then get rid of the person they use. 

for me will byers was specifically targeted from the beginning bc he always had powers and for some reason the mindflayer wants him. its like what dustin said about vecna and the mindflayer.

vecna its the 5 star general and the mindflayer its the boss.

el is the 5 star general all this time and will is the real boss.

did yall get what i mean?

168 notes - Posted June 26, 2022

#2

i think is actually quite funny that people are realizing just now that will is gay and in love with mike. just shows how much there are subtext throughout the whole show and people are not really watching it

384 notes - Posted May 28, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

forget about the romance aspect of byler and think about the platonic side of it. imagine hearing your best friend of 10+ years saying to a girl that the day his life started was after he met her and that was the exact day of your disappearance and that was the cause of your traumatic and tragedy childhood.

ngl i would stop being friends with him. that is just a shitty friend i would be pissed and cut him out my life.

582 notes - Posted July 1, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[lornology]

goals and resolutions and aspirations and hopes

well there’s a lot... so... I don’t even know where to start...

The big one that a lot of people are going to be starting soon is losing weight. I’ve done it once and I can do it again, I’m even getting a head start by starting back up this month instead of next month. 

Second biggest one is probably eat cleaner/cut out sugar. Both of which I need to do... badly... (details on this plan to come.)

I didn’t read a book every month this year, there was 3 months that I missed, however I read so many books at the beginning of the year that it still comes out to 12 books so I’m gonna go ahead and say that I halfway met my goal. In 2023 I’d like to finish the game of thrones series by April 1st, and move onto another fantastical series to finish by June 1st. 

I’d like to only drink water with the exception of maybe the occasional glass milk or a cup of coffee. I have reignited my Dr. Pepper addiction at work, so now it’s time to reel it back in by going down to half/half tea if I really feel like I need something other than water. Maybe in 2023 I’ll be audacious and try to cut out soda completely. 

Something else I need to cut out is unnecessary spending. I might try a no buy month and see if I think I could go the next month. Of course buy things I need like groceries, but only buy what I need when I need it. If I run out of a skincare item I can buy it again, but it needs to be used up again before buying something along the same lines. Only things I need too, so no expensive things that I really don’t need (like serums, or phone cases, or shoes). Just stick to what I need.

Hmmm, what else? I can think of several throughout the day but when it comes time to write them out they all disappear. 

By June 1st I’d like to be making more money at my job and start a plan or blueprint for the second half of the year regarding the new position. I think by May 1st I’d like to start a M-F work week and see if I can’t get Saturdays and Sunday’s off... 

I’d like to discover my own sense of style, more than the same 4 jeans and few t shirts I wear. I’d like to be able to get dressed nicely and not just wear gym clothes or work clothes. I’d like to have a hairstyle I love and I’d like to get a little more knowledge and practice with the basics of makeup. 

I’d like to get back into playing ultimate frisbee. I went a few weeks ago to a pickup game, the next week it was freezing cold out so I skipped, and then last week I just completely forgot about it. Maybe I’ll go tomorrow night. 

I’d like to start my day with sunshine and spend less time on my phone in the morning and throughout the day in general. I did a great job staying off TikTok but I’ve been ignoring the time limit lately and spending hours upon hours on the app a day. 

I think that’s it for now, so for a quick recap my points are: -Be consistent in the gym again. Lose the weight I’ve gained in the past year.  -Eat cleaner and cut out the sugar. -Finish the game of thrones series by April 1st and start another fantastical series to start then finish by June 1st.  -Drink 80oz of water a day!!! And only water!!! (a few exceptions, but 99% of the time WATER!!) -Test the waters of a no buy month and see how far into the year I can go. - Make more money at my job and have a clear blueprint of what to expect the second half of the year in regards to the new position I’ll be starting. (Try to get Saturday’s and Sunday’s off by May 1st.) -Discover a sense of self in a physical way (style, hair, makeup).  -Stay active and social by continuing to play ultimate frisbee.  -Start the day with sunshine! Maybe drink a cup of water on the balcony in the mornings and evenings even if it’s just for 5 minutes. -Spend less time on my phone, specifically TikTok... 

[un-love]

seventeen and types of hugs

@holdinbacksecrets the inspiration that had struck me two days back has since disappeared but i still tried to finish it . hbd 🍯

warnings: angst for dino's

'95, '96

￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣

'97

☽ seokmin

good morning hugs, pull you closer in your sleep hugs, i just want to feel you next to me hugs.

you can feel him come up behind you before his hands slide across your waist as he closes his eyes and rests his face in the crook of your neck. it's almost habitual at this point. a morning ritual. hums softly or just stays there for a minute to ground himself.

☽ mingyu

mingyu, mingyu, mingyu. left hand cupping the back of your neck as a frequent form of affection as he runs his thumb over your jaw absentmindedly. rests his cheek on the top of your head when you wrap your arms around him.

picture this: sitting down, he'll wrap his arms your waist and snuggle into your chest. you know what i mean? i believe mingyu gives the best hugs, and i just want to sob, okay? the type to spin you around and sway you to whatever song he's humming or play-wrestle you till you given in. i have too many ideas for him fuck my life

☽ minghao

taking you by surprise as he extends his arms for a goodbye hug. the ones that last a beat longer than you expect them to.

wouldn't be frequent but once he sees how happy they make you, any little victory would be worthy of jumping around the house and a celebratory hug. u know those little giggles he does?

hopping around gleefully because you solved the puzzle you'd been at for two days? hug. finally got the recipe right? hug. rocking each other from side to side, trying not to lose balance you may not agree with my interpretation but it is what it is

'98

☽ seungkwan

you're the only person i'll let myself break infront of

his hands tremble as you lightly massage his shoulders. it's been a tough week for him and he doesn't understand the concept of taking it easy. inevitably, it all becomes too much and here he is now with his legs intertwined with yours and face smushed into your clothes. just listen to his worries and cuddle him AND reassure him, okay? “i'm so proud of you”

☽ vernon

fever dream

sometimes, when it's raining outside and he's watched the occasional romcom, he'll take your hand and want to dance with you in the dimly lit kitchen. hands running through his hair, you look up and he has the shyest smile on his face. you hold each other close and the night seems welcoming. he won't want to let go till the sun comes up. don't talk about it the next day, though

'99

☽ chan

fingers clutching each others' clothes so tight knuckles turn white. salty tears dripping down your cheeks but you can't stop. suffocating and drowning in those emotions never led you anywhere good anyway. you're here saying goodbye anyway.

every part of your being aches with the burden of unsaid apologies, begging him to stay. hands refusing to let each other go, his fingers slotting themselves perfectly between yours because they're not ready to be abandoned yet. he lets go first. “i'm sorry”

[caitimetravels]

she's insignificant

chapter 5: he should have stayed on that moon

the umbrella academy x (fem) reader

disclaimer: i do not own the plot/storyline of the netflix tv series and i do not own the umbrella academy characters.

warnings: mentions of blood

masterlist

"there you are!" allison ran up behind luther in the hallway. "i've been looking everywhere for you" 

"what are you still doing here? i thought you were gone" he turned to look at her in surprise.

"no, i was gonna go and then pogo showed me this-" she tried to explain what she had found but luther cut her off with a shake of his head.

"well, listen.. i was wrong about dad's death"

"what?"

"yeah, i was wrong about y/n, you know, to accuse my own sister of that- it's just-"

"no, no, i get it-"

"seeing all of you and being back here. i-i should be the one who's trying to bring us all back together not tear us apart-"

"would you shut up?"

"what?"

"you were right. about dad. come on, i gotta show you something"

————————————————–

"i can't" eight didn't like crying, especially not in front of her father. he was always cruel, no matter how much the children pleaded and sobbed. she crumpled to the floor, exhausted. she hated training alone, she wanted to train with her siblings outside in the snow, it looked like more fun than this was.

"you are weak, number eight! we will continue until you can get it right" reginald glared down at her. "again!" 

she pushed herself up, wobbling. she weakly pushed herself again, trying to make something, anything happen. she squeezed her eyes shut, hands forming fists as she thought hard about what her father wanted. she didn't even know what she was expected to do. to no surprise, nothing happened. reginald sighed heavily, disappointed. he pulled a watch from his pocket before staring down at her as she fell to her knees again.

"you are dismissed, dinner will be in 20 minutes" and she was left alone. reginald disappeared into his office once again. she lay on the floor for a moment, heaving for breath. they had been training for hours, pushing her past her limits. grace and pogo lead her siblings, minus vanya, in through the doors. not wanting them to see her like that she gripped the table behind her, pulling herself up and leaning against it. 

"y/n?" ben frowned, stepping over. the others look at her in shock. she shook him off, grumbling about how she was 'fine'. he watched her stumble up the stairs, cringing in pain. her siblings all shared a saddened look. 

when they did rush down for dinner, y/n slumped into her chair, dark bags under her eyes. she barely touched her food, pushing it around her plate.

"number eight!" the next thing she knew five was holding her head up and her father was yelling at her. he degraded her, insulted her but she didn't hear a thing. five slowly let go of her, watching her carefully before turning away, back to his meal.

she sat up straighter and actually started to eat the food on her plate, after all, she must train on a full stomach.

————————————————–

y/n and five walked up the stairs of the mansion, feet dragging heavily. as they stepped up they were met with luther and allison.

"five? y/n? what the hell happened to you?" both stayed silent. y/n stared at her feet in a sort of daze. everything was still kind of confusing. 

"are you okay?" luther reached out to five, "can we help?" the said boy took him by surprise, hand snapping up and grabbing his fist.

"there's nothing you can do" he spat before his expression saddened, "there's nothing any of you can do.."

y/n looked up, watching as he went. she frowned.

"you alright?" she stared at luther for a moment, grimacing as she remembered what they had last talked about. she kept her mouth shut, brushing past him to her room. 

"y/n, wait-"

"just fuck off, luther" she snapped before he could say anything. he should have stayed on that moon.

————————————————–

"number eight" the remaining five siblings with powers stood in a line. it had been a couple weeks since ben's death now. reginald stood in front of them. they had all been told today's training would be different. "step forwards" she did as she was told, standing in front of the others. "you will be using your powers on your siblings today" 

her head snapped up at that as did the others. she had never used her powers on them before and they knew what she could do to others. he sent the others all around the house. she was told to find them, sensing where they were with a blindfold on, almost like hide and seek without any of the fun. it was when she had found them all for the seventh time that she sensed something else. 

"there are five people in line" she stated, "vanya?" 

"wrong" she heard her father scold. "there are only four"

"there's a fifth, i can sense it" she frowned, pulling her blindfold off to see only her four siblings. they all looked confused. "klaus.. is there a ghost? it.. it feels like ben"

"no" he answered far too quickly. ben turned on him from beside him,

"what? klaus! i am here! tell her i'm here!" 

"no, he's not" 

"klaus! what the hell?! you're so selfish! i am here!" but of course, she never knew that..

————————————————–

"come on, luther, i have to show you" allison tried to pull him away but he continued to stare at where y/n had told him to 'fuck off'. he felt.. guilty.

"but.. what about y/n?" he looked at her. he hated that he upset her, he hated that he had accused her without any actual evidence. she was only a child, just like diego said. 

"she's angry, let her cool off. you should apologise but not right now, give her some time" allison offered a soft smile, "that's all she needs, some time. now, come on, this is important" 

"i just.. i feel guilty" luther frowned as they walked towards their father's room filled with cameras. "i shouldn't have assumed-"

"she'll understand" allison reassured with a smile. 

————————————————–

y/n sat in her corner of the library, reading alone. she was calm, it was her safe place, nobody could bother her here. no training, no arguments, just peace.

"eight.." she looked up from her book at her brother's voice. five.

"what's wrong?" she shuffled over, eyebrows furrowing at the look on his face. he was worried, something five wasn't usually.. or at least he never showed it.

"i.. i want to time travel" he begun softly, taking a seat beside her. she frowned, why was he telling her? "i want to try but dad refused to teach me"

she froze, "you're going to try anyway" she realised. he nodded, now looking up at her.

"i know you think i hate you but i don't" he slowly begun, thinking of the words he was trying to say. "i'm telling you because i think you're the most trustworthy.. and i.." he paused, unsure of how to say what he wanted to. "i think you're the strongest, eight, no matter what our siblings may say"

"five.." she grimaced, "i know we don't talk much but i'll support you if anything happens"

"i do want to talk to you more" he sighed, ashamed for having obeyed his father's stupid rules. "but-"

"no, no. it's not your fault" y/n shook her head. "it's hard to go against him, i understand"

"you're too kind.. you shouldn't forgive people so easily, they'll take advantage of you" five frowned and she laughed. 

"i thought i was the strongest, huh?" she nudged his shoulder with her own, finally getting a small smile.

————————————————–

"let me do that" y/n pulled a chair beside five, gently pulling the needle and thread out of his hand. he frowned but let her anyways. "you're antsy" she pointed out, eyeing his bouncing knee. "going somewhere in a rush?" 

"i need to go back" he stared out the door, ready to rush out. "i need to find whoever this eye belongs to so that i can stop the apocalypse" 

"i know" y/n nodded, eyebrows furrowing in concentration as she finished stitching him up. she gently used a cloth to wipe the blood off his arm before placing a bandaid over it. five stood, pulling his shirt on and buttoning it up.

"can i come?" she watched him stuff dolores into the duffle bag and swing it onto his back. 

"no" he barely spared her a glance as he moved towards the window. he climbed out.

"what? why not? come on, five" she leaned out the window, watching him begin to climb down the fire escape. 

"i need to do this, y/n, it's important" he looked up at her now. "just wait for me here, i'll come back, okay?"

albeit hurt she nodded, she needed to be understanding. she frowned, moving away from the window, hoping to find something else to do. instead as she walked out of the room she noticed luther.

she quickly moved towards her room, hoping he wouldn't see her. she couldn't deal with anymore fighting right now. to her misfortune he did notice her, following her to her room. she swiftly locked the door as she ducked inside.

"hey.. y/n?" luther stood outside her locked door, hand giving a single knock.

"what do you want?" she hissed back, refusing to open it for him. she didn't need anymore of his accusations.

"i'm.. i'm sorry for accusing you" luther sighed. he had to get this over with, she deserved an apology. "it was wrong and i shouldn't have jumped to conclusions like that"

he heard her cautious footsteps as she made her way to the door. there was pause before she slowly peeked out. 

"you mean it..?" she frowned, eyeing his carefully. he nodded.

"i'm sorry. i know you've probably been lonely here, i know what it's like-"

"just shut up" she breathed out a laugh, pulling the door open fully, looking relieved. "no more fighting, please? i just want my family back.." the last part was quiet, vulnerable. luther nodded, smiling back. 

"no more fighting" there was a comfortable silence that fell over the two of them before luther spoke again.

"by the way, do you know where five is?"

"yeah, why?" she tilted her head at him, confused.

"we're having a family meeting.. it's about mom. i'm going to get him"

"okay, but i can't guarantee he'll find this as important as you do"

tag list: @rxses-and-reverie @lostgreekgod @on-yourmark-99 @bicyhot1 @navs-bhat @midnightmystic

[emiewritesthings]

doctor, doctor - jay halstead

jay halstead x fem!reader

summary: in which y/n takes it into her own hands to look after a sick jay 

a/n: i’m not gonna lie i think this is one of my fav things i’ve ever written, i would really appreciate some feedback and p.s the beginning of it is based on that scene from brooklyn 99 :)

masterlist

“okay, it’s 10 o’clock, meaning halstead is officially an hour late to work,” y/n announced as she appeared from the break room with a mug of poorly made coffee. looking around, she had immediately distracted everyone in the room with her playful smile. “okay let’s do this, theories!” she encouraged, taking a sip with excitement, but immediately regretting it as s he spat it back in the mug and abandoned it on adam’s desk as she leant against it.

“uh, he forgot to set his alarm?” antonio suggested, willing to play along with the little game that y/n had created. however clearly his answer didn’t suffice as y/n scrunched up her nose and shook her head in disappointment.

“you are a detective in a unit that just last week rescued 5 people kidnapped and used as chess pieces in a human sized version of the game and the best you could come up with is he forgot to set his alarm? pfft, disappointing, dawson. who’s willing to take this seriously?” she scoffed, brushing his idea off with a simple roll of the eyes as the group laughed at her ridiculousness. 

“maybe he has been murdered by a gang looking for revenge.” adam piped up, earning a sudden and rather forceful slap on the back as y/n cheered. her eyes looking over at antonio as she gestured towards the less experienced detective.

“yes, that’s what i’m talking about. bit dark, ruzek, but better than dawson’s,” y/n hummed, adam clearly pleased with the praise he had received by the pretty detective. “any one else wanna shot?” she offered it out into the room, suddenly the sound of rolling wheels on the chair had everyone turn to face al who was munching on a ham sandwich.

“he walked into the middle of a drug ring, slept with the kingpins daughter and is now having limbs removed, one by the hour.” suddenly an eery silence fell in the bullpen as al suddenly disappeared back to his desk and everyone was left with an image that she was sure was burned on the inside of everyones mind.

“uh, okay, someone might want to arrange a psych check for olinsky asap,” y/n mumbled, pointing in the direction where he had once been and looking around as if checking that she hadn’t been the only one to hear al’s suggestion. “anyways, all of you are wrong. clearly he has joined a motorbike gang and now makes his money on the road striking off names on the government’s hit list.” 

just as the room erupted into discussion about how idiotic this conversation was, as well as their ideas, the sound of footsteps caught y/n’s attention as she arrived at her desk. however as he reached the floor, the reason for his absence was clear.

“woah, you look like death.” adam chuckled, it immediately being silenced as jay sent a deadly glare his way. with his skin paler than normal with undertones of green, a layer of sweat draped over his forehead. jay flashed as smile at y/n as he passed, reaching his desk and collapsing on his chair with a wince. 

as everyone went back to what they were doing, y/n found herself straying her eyes away from her computer screen for longer and longer periods of time until she found herself by his side with a sickly sweet grin, pun intended. 

“i don’t wanna hear it, y/l/n.” jay mumbled, massaging his temples with his fingers hoping it would somehow sooth his pounding skull. whilst usually he had every minute of his day just to hear the woman chat away about whatever crossed her mind, he had found himself in quite the state since last night, leaving him restless and irritable.

“believe it or not, i just wanted to make sure you were alright,” y/n’s entire demeanour crumbled as she melted at the soft features of his face that came with being so vulnerable. but from the look in jay’s eyes, it was clear he didn’t 100% believe her excuse. “and to ask what the hell you think you are doing here? you are sick jay, you need to rest.” 

it was very rare that jay found himself ill. in the years that y/n had been working by the man’s side, she could count on one hand the times she had seen him with so much as a cough. in fact she had called him captain immune system for a period of time when she realised he was pretty much indestructible. y/n couldn’t deny the concern bubbling in her gut seeing him so weak.

“i’m fine,” with her eyes slitted in a look that practically shouted ‘bullshit’, jay continued. “i promise, it’s just a little cold. nothing serious, i think i’ll survive.” he joked dryly, finding it incredibly hard to look away from y/n for her eyes were filled with a warmth that he knew was an expression usually saved for those she cared deeply about. 

“yeah well, you need to take care of yourself, jay, i’m being serious. chicago can cope if you just have one day off, get your energy back.” 

y/n was reminded of the times she had the exact same words spoken to her by the exact person that didn’t seem to want to take them onboard. every time she had so much as a sniffle he would be straight over with some soup that his mother used to swear by and the name of a box set that he would put on for the two of them to watch as he sat stroking her hair in order to try and convince her body to rest. neither of them had anyone else to take care of them, so had taken it upon themselves to be that person for the other. 

“now, i’m gonna go tell voight that i’m taking you home before you infect this whole office.” before he could object, she had already ran (not literally but jay was impressed by her speed walking) to her boss’ office. knocking on the door, with a sweet smile and a sea of words running off her tongue so quickly that voight had to agree just to shut her up, y/n returned by his side. “come on, germ face, your carriage awaits.” 

“you know i love it when you talk dirty to me, y/l/n.” winking at her, y/n giggled as she supported him back down the stairs and out of the station. the two chatted away, y/n explaining how she thought al was secretly a sociopath and jay filing her in on the newest instalment of his apartment block drama until they pulled up in front of jay’s apartment building. 

as they walked through the door, jay’s arm resting around y/n’s shoulders as he struggled to find strength, they managed to reach the sofa before y/n’s body gave up. both of them letting out large breathes before looking at each other and falling into laughter. 

“you hungry, i could try making your mom’s soup?” y/n asked, as she pushed herself up to look down at the man. her hair falling down around her face and tickling jay’s skin. “i’m sure it won’t be as good as her’s but i’m willing to give it a try.” 

the way she was sat with the large window gleaming light behind her, y/n almost looked like an angel. her eyes and smile were wide, with her beauty wrapping its hands around jay’s neck squeezing until his head felt light and he nearly reached up to touch her porcelain skin. but jay had noticed the sensation way before he was blocked up with a cold.

“yeah, uh, that sounds nice.” jay agreed with a minimal amount of sass, but y/n didn’t seem to notice as she moved off the cushions and towards the kitchen. she had pretty much memorised the recipe when jay had finally given it to her on her birthday after offering to pay for it multiple times. whizzing around the kitchen, she was too busy to notice the tired eyes admiring her from afar. 

jay wished his mom was alive to see the woman that she would have loved. all the times he had brought girls back to his family when he was younger didn’t add up to an ounce of the beauty and power that y/n held in her middle finger. the way she bit back at his wit, but also had the ability to spot when he was upset from the other side of the city. she was everything her mother wanted in a daughter in law, everything she wanted for her little boy. 

“okay, give me your honest opinion. i can take it i promise.” y/n sudden appeared with a tray that held a large bowl of the semi-thick orange liquid, a glass of water and a couple pills. approaching jay, she carefully helped him up from where he laid and placed it onto his lap. “actually that was a complete lie, do not tell me the truth. i may just cry.” 

“why thank you, nurse y/l/n.” he teased.

“it’s doctor actually.” she quipped back.

jay chuckled lowly, as he grabbed the spoon and took a large spoonful to his mouth. feeling the slight sting of his tongue at the heat, it was only when the flavours hit that he was suddenly transported to an earlier time in his life. a simpler time. only this time there was y/n by his side. 

“the verdict?” she prompted, taking a seat besides him, pulling her knees up to her chest. 

“not sure whether i want to tell you, don’t think you’ll fit in this room if your ego grows any bigger.” y/n grinned as she leaned over to press a kiss against his shoulder. jay closed his eyes at the contact, feeling the ache in his body freeze for a moment as it registered the tingling sensation. “all jokes aside, it really is good.” 

“i’m glad, your mother was a smart woman.” she nodded, leaning forward to turn tv on. jay continued to spoon the soup into his mouth, as y/n chose a show that they both had started together and had refused to watch another minute without the other. y/n leaned back making herself comfortable, having already texted voight telling him that she would most likely need the entire day off, and getting the go ahead, she had no plans other than being by jay’s side for the next however many hours. 

it was sometime in the early evening and the tv continued to emit light, but neither jay nor y/n was paying any attention to the drama. jay, with his head on y/n lap, was leaning into her touch as her short, thin fingers ran through the dark strands that sprouted from his scalp. his body wrapped in a blanket that y/n had grabbed from his room, he felt completely at peace. 

“you know what, i think you are more bearable when you are at death’s door.” y/n joked quietly, as the forest green eyes were exposed back to her own. jay groaned in annoyance, realising that there was no sweet y/n without the sharped tongue y/n. a trait he adored, but at his own expense. 

“and to think i was starting to think you had gone soft on me, y/l/n.” he hummed, wishing he could forever have her giggle on repeat wherever he went, for the sound made goosebumps run down his neck and down his arms, like some kind of magic that only y/n possessed. 

“as much as i love you, i can’t risk my bad ass reputation for you.” 

although jay was sure it was just part of her banter, the moment the ‘i love you’ fell off her tongue, he found himself wide awake, unable to push past the feeling in his gut as it looped over again and again in his mind. y/n could see the conflict in his face, as he glanced up at her with something she had never noticed before. 

“you mean it?” he asked. 

“mean what?” confused, her fingers fell from his hair, making jay regret ever opening his mouth.

“do you really, you know, love me?” he knew he had committed too far to try and retreat. maybe he could blame it on the fact he couldn’t think straight, although she was like a lie detector that wouldn’t let such a bogus excuse pass. y/n blinked down at him, watching as he sat up to look at her with a hunger that needed to be addressed. swallowing the lump in her throat, y/n nodded.

“of course, you are one of my best friends, jay.” it was true, but it wasn’t the full truth, both of them knew that.

“i didn’t realise we had started lying to one another,” jay’s eyes were soft, as he reached to place his hand against her cheek, smiling as she slowly leaned into it. closing her eyes, she tried to find what direction she was looking for, but didn’t dare take the first step. without even thinking, jay jutted forward and captured her lips before they could form a single syllable. 

gently, but passionately, jay and y/n moved their lips against the others. the feeling was ever-growing as the kiss deepened and deepened until they had no choice to pull back, deprived of their ability to breath. as jay’s eyes came back into view, y/n, for the first time in her life, had lost the ability to form a sentence. 

“we just...” she began but it ran off quickly. jay chuckled.

“we did.”

the two sat in silence, examining the other one’s face until y/n found herself moving forward until she was sat in his lap, legs wrapped around his waist as she pressed her lips against his. just like before their bodies and minds were set ablaze with desire and what had remained unspoken for what felt like forever. jay had nearly completely forgotten about the illness that had put him in the care of the woman that he craved more than anything else the world had to offer. 

as their lips parted ways, suddenly the air had thinned and everything felt... normal. jay’s lips were unable to break out of the large grin mould that y/n had put them in, which was soon mirrored by the young woman. a small giggle escaping her lips.

“if i get whatever it is you have, i expect the exact same treatment.” 

“only for you, doctor y/l/n.”

[ahsokasleftbicep]

Name and Soul: Chapter 1

Alright everyone here is the first chapter of the series. Apologies for the delay, I had a lot of editing to do. I hope you enjoy it!

@mqgriett

Crosshair x F! reader

Word Count: 3440

Warnings: Amnesia like stuff. Language. Bad Batch SPOILERS: DO NOT READ UNLESS YOU HAVE SEEN THE FIRST EPISODE OF THE TV SERIES!

It’s odd how quickly things change on the battlefield. This kind of change you never expected. You and the Bad Batch met about a year after the war started and with your sharpshooting and other combat skills, Hunter offered that you join their team. You got along with most of the group very quickly, with the exception of Crosshair. Over time, after a lot of sneers and eye rolling, the two of you grew closer. After a particularly grueling mission, both of you admitted how you felt and now the two of you barely went anywhere without the other. You were the perfect duo, with both of your skills combined, missions went without a hitch almost every time.

The group had been called to the planet Kaller to assist Master Billaba. Her padawan, Caleb, you believed his name was, led you and the boys to his master. That’s when it happened… that change, the shift in the air. The troops turned on the Jedi and fired on her. Order 66. Caleb bolted, running off into the woods, sliding down hills with a certain hatred in his eyes that you had never seen in someone so young, so… innocent. You, Hunter, and Crosshair ran after him. The woods were so peaceful compared to the chaos everywhere else.

It was quiet and Caleb seemed to disappear. You looked around and saw him in the trees. “Hunter, Crosshair, I found him.” While Hunter tries to convince the kid to come down, Crosshair aims at the kid. “Crosshair no!” You tackle him down into the snow.

Caleb runs off, Hunter yells out, “Crosshair, what are you doing?”

“Following orders. Get off me Y/n.” Crosshair shoves you off him before getting up.

You follow him, an angry look on your face. “What the hell is going on with you?”

“I’m following my orders. We need to find that Jedi.” The man walks off, you tailing behind him.

“Crosshair, we don’t even know what the order is.” You grab his hand, “Just wait until we know what’s happening.”

He turns his head towards you before scoffing, “Fine.”

Good soldiers follow orders. Crosshair mumbled that before Hunter sent you back with the others. When all of you got back to the ship, Tech explained that all the clones had been ordered to execute the Jedi. Saying that they committed treason and tried to kill the Chancellor. The war was just somehow over. None of it made any sense. According to the sergeant, Caleb died in a fall. You all got ordered back to Kamino, offloading and heading to your barracks.

“Hunter let that Jedi kid escape, or do you want to keep lying?” Crosshair sneered.

Hunter gets up, “I don’t like to think of executing our commanders as an objective.”

“An order is an order, Hunter.”

“Since when Cross? You’ve never been one to follow orders, why are you starting now.” You raise your voice to the two men. Everyone goes quiet.

“Don’t act noble y/n, you’re as much to blame as Hunter is for letting that Jedi escape. I could have gotten him if you hadn’t stopped me.”

“He was a child!” You walk up to him, glaring into his eyes.

“He was a traitor!” Crosshair pushes you back before continuing to clean his weapon.

You speak up after a while. “This doesn’t make any sense. General Billaba and her battalion have been in numerous battles, serving alongside each other for years.”

Echo speaks up this time, “How could they turn on her like that?”

“Because of the regs programming. It’s been documented that the Kaminoans inhibited the functions of clones to engineer them to follow orders without any question” Tech explains. “They manipulated everything, Crosshair’s sharpshooting and Hunter’s enhanced sense. And of course my exceptional mind. I assume that we are immune,” Tech glances at Crosshair. “at least, most of us.”

All personnel report to the staging area for a briefing on the state of the Republic.

--

You felt so out of place in the staging area, surrounded by clones that felt off to you. Their mannerisms were different, more robotic. You were drawn back at attention when Chancellor- no Emperor Palpatine began speaking.

....And the Jedi rebellion has been foiled. The remaining Jedi will be hunted down and defeated. The attempt on my life has left me scarred and deformed. But I assure you. My resolve has never been stronger! In order to ensure the security and continuing stability…

… the Republic will be reorganized… into the first Galactic Empire!

“Galactic Empire?” You look over to your team in confusion. Sudden cheers ripple across the room, the other clones celebrating like it's the greatest thing in the world.

--

Tech and Wrecker were arguing at the table. You kept looking at Crosshair, he was acting odd, well more that usual. He’s still acting like a prick, so that’s a good sign. He let you sit next to him, so that was good too. But he kept rubbing his head, like he had a migraine of some kind… so odd. You nudged his thigh.

“Are you feeling well, Cross? You look sick.”

“Thanks for the compliment, y/n.”

“You know what I mean... tell me what’s going on.”

“Just a migraine, don’t worry about it.”

“An Imperial’s been sent to evaluate the clones.” Hunter speaks as he sits down.

“What kind of evaluation?”

“Hopefully not mental. Clearly we’d never pass that… well, maybe y/n could.” Tech nods his head to you.

“Oh I doubt it, with all the stuff we’ve been through together, I’d probably fail.” You take a sip of your water before something catches your eye.

Omega shifts awkwardly, “Hello again. Omega. From earlier?.... in the corridor.”

“Yeah, kid. We remember.” Hunter raised his eyebrow at the child.

Hunter was about to ask about the kids parents before a couple regs interrupted. “Check it out. The defect squad’s got themselves a recruit.” Before you can react, Omega throws her food at the clone. Hunter tries to diffuse the situation, but you didn’t get your throw in so you grab your tray.

“Y/n, don’t.” Crosshair attempts to grab your wrist but just misses you.

“Don’t worry, Cross. I won’t miss.” You wink at him.

“Hey Wrecker, let's show the kid how it’s done, yeah?” You aim before to throw the tray at the clone. “Oops, my hand must’ve… slipped.”

All hell breaks loose and punches are thrown. Echo got knocked out, when the boys got up to go get him, you walked by Crosshair. Here goes nothing.

“Crosshair?”

“Hm? What is it?”

You grab his hand and pull him into a hall. “What happened on Kaller? Tell me what happened.”

“I told you, it’s just-”

“Why are you lying to me?” You pull his hand, drawing him closer.

“There’s nothing wrong with me, it’s you all. You’re the ones who refused to carry out the order.”

“An order to kill a child, Crosshair.”

“That child was a traitor to the Empire.”

“But a child nonetheless.” You retort.

“You don’t understand, none of you do. Just drop it.”

“I’m sorry, but I can’t. Crosshair, you’re worrying me.”

The man looks down at you, he looks so lost. “There is nothing wrong. I promised I would never lie to you when I proposed.” He tugs at the delicate chain around your neck, fiddling with the ring that he gave you just weeks before.

You look at him, skeptical, “And you’ll tell me if something is wrong? Cross your heart?”

His lips tilt up, “Cross my heart.”

--

Echo told you all about Tarkin. When you all started heading towards the training facility, the shock troopers stopped you.

“Y/n L/n? Admiral Tarkin has asked you to sit out of this battle simulation.”

You furrow your brows, “He’s asking me to not train with my team?” You look at Hunter and shrug, “I’ll be watching, I guess… Be careful, something doesn’t feel right.”

Wrecker speaks up, “Oh don’t worry Y/n, we’ll be fine!”

When you arrive at the observation deck, you are greeted by Lama Su and who you assume is Admiral Tarkin.

“Ms. L/n.” The prime minister greets you in a monotone voice.

“Prime Minister, may I-” you were interrupted by Tarkin.

“We can dismiss formalities, begin the simulation. Ms. L/n, you will be answering some questions for me.”

“....Of course, Admiral” You stand next to the man, watching the boys go through the course.

“What is your opinion of this team, L/n?”

“My opinion, sir? Well they are the best group I have worked with. Their skills are the most impressive I’ve seen.” You speak as you watch Crosshair take out the tower cannons. Wrecker is having the time of his life by the looks of things. So far so good.

“Switch to live fire.” Your blood runs cold, live fire? What is going on here? You watch the new droids take their place down below, Wrecker got hit and you tensed, unaware that Tarkin noticed your worry.

“And what of your relationship with these clones?”

“My relationship sir?” Your eyes catch onto Crosshair in the tower, moving to run out the door when he almost falls from the tower. Tarkin didn’t miss that either. He turned his head to you, an eyebrow raised.

“Surely you’re aware that relationships within the military are forbidden, especially with these… clones.” The bile in his tone made you sick, you wanted to punch him.

“I’m not sure what you’re suggesting Admiral, but I can assure you that my relationship with my team is strictly as comrades.”

“I’m sure of it then. I will be sending Clone Force 99 on a mission. I ask that you stay in Kamino during that time. And one more thing.” Tarkin turns to you. “Did your team carry out Order 66?”

You grit your teeth, “Yes sir, the death of the general and her padawan were confirmed, was that not clear to you?”

“Only the death of General Billaba was confirmed, a counter report was filed by one of your own says otherwise.” Tarkin turns and walks out. “That will be all Ms. L/n, you are dismissed.”

Once Tarkin was out of sight, you ran back to the barracks. You rush in, seeing the boys, frustrated looks on their face. “Who’s that Imperial bastard think he is?!”

Echo turns, “Y/n! Are you alright? What happened?”

“He questioned me about you guys. Asked of my opinion… and of my relationship with you all…”

“That bastard,” Echo clenches his fist, “He knows everything about everyone. He’s got it out for us.”

You look at Crosshair, “Tarkin said that one of us filed a counter-”

The door slides open and the devil himself walks through, “That was quite an impressive display, Nala Se claims that you are all more capable than an army.”

Hunter steps forward, “You have a mission for us, sir?”

“Yes, a group of insurgents in the Onderon sector. They must be dealt with. Unfortunately, Ms. L/n will not be able to join you. She will be staying here on Kamino while you complete this task.”

--

You help Tech load the last bit of supplies on the ship. “Don’t worry about me, I’ll stay in the barracks until you come back.”

“It shouldn’t take us long. If everything goes according to plan that is.” Tech says.

You smile and walk down the ramp.

“Y/n.” Crosshair calls you over.

“Yes Cross?”

He takes your hand and runs his fingers over your wrist, avoiding your eyes. “There’s something-”

“Crosshair! Let’s go!”

He looks back at you, apologizing. You squeeze his hand, “It’s okay Crosshair, we can talk about it when you come back.” You lean up and kiss his cheek. “ Be careful, okay.”

“Okay, y/n.” He pressed his lips to your temple before climbing up the ramp. They take off and you turn around, finding Omega behind you.

“Hey, uh, Omega right?”

“Yeah! And you’re y/n.” You can’t help but notice the worry in her features.

“Is something wrong?” You lean closer when the child just nods

“Kamino isn’t safe anymore, we need to get out of here. Something is going to happen, I just don’t know what. But the boys aren’t safe here.”

You kneel to her height, “Okay, I believe you. Something has been off ever since the order was declared. Keep quiet for now, okay. When the boys come back, we’ll figure something out.” Omega nods and runs off to Nala Se.

--

“Y/n!” Omega rushes into the barracks.

“Omega! What are you doing here?” You walk up and close the door. “Oh hey AZI.”

-“Ms. L/n. Omega, Nala Se instructed us to stay in the medical wing.”

“You guys can stay, think of it as a research assignment.” You smile at the girl.

Omega and AZI are looking around the barracks when troopers come to the door.

“You are not authorized to be here.”

You speak up, “Omega is fine, I’ll keep an eye on her.”

The trooper turns to his partner, “Pack up their gear and take it to the hangar. You two, you’re coming with me.”

“We’ve done nothing wrong, and you are not touching our stuff. Back off!”

The troopers grab you and Omega.

“Let go of her!” You struggle against his grip, then everything goes black.

--

You groan and open your eyes.

“Y/n! Are you okay? They hit you a-and then threw us here!”

You grab Omega’s hand. “Slow down, I don’t know what’s happening, but you need to stay calm okay?”

The door slid open, revealing the batch, they were missing their armor. “Guys!”

“Y/n, what happened?” Hunter helps you off the ground. Crosshair just rubbed his head and walked to a corner.

“I don’t know, they just threw us in here.” You rub your head. “What are you guys doing here, what happened to the insurgents?”

Hunter pauses, “They weren’t droids, they were people. There were children and elderly. We didn’t hurt them.”

From the corner, Crosshair interjects, “Because Hunter went soft, he had us disobey orders.”

“What? Crosshair, they were living people.” You look at him, confused.

“We’re locked in here because of him. First the padawan, then Gerrera. You’re becoming a liability, Sergeant.”

“Enough.” Everyone looks at you, “None of this is helping us get the hell out of here.”

--

After Omega spoke to your fiance, you quietly sit next to him. “Crosshair, I know you’re the one who filed the report.”

“How smart you are, y/n.”

“You don’t have to do this. You would never do this.” You're interrupted by the man that threw you in here.

“CT-9904, you’re coming with us.”

Hunter jumps up, “Oh, no, no, no. We stay together”

“Stand down!”

“Crosshair!”

“I said stand down!” The trooper shoves you back into the cell.

--

As Crosshair puts on his armor, he notices a chain with a ring around his neck. He doesn’t remember who or what it’s for. Help me, please. Don’t hurt them. Don’t hurt y/n.

Tarkin approaches him, “CT-9904, the prisoners have escaped from the brig. Make sure they don’t leave this planet.”

Crosshair tucks his helmet under his arm. “Yes, sir.” Good soldiers follow orders.

--

You tighten your hand in Omega’s as you run through the halls to get to the hangar.

“All right, this way. Let’s make this quick.”

Tech runs to power up the ship, and the hangar door opens.

You tighten the grip on your rifle, “Omega, get down. Do not get up until Hunter says so, okay?” You look up and see him.

“Crosshair, it’s me. I-”

“Crosshair?”

“Best stand down, Sergeant.” His eyes flit over to you. “You as well.”

“Lower your weapon.”

“Y/n” Hunter looks at you. You nod and raise your rifle.

“I can’t do that Crosshair. I’m sorry. I’ll come back for you, I promise.”

One of the troopers fire, blaster shots flying everywhere.

“Omega, go!” You yell out. You glance back and see Crosshair take aim at Hunter. A shot fires, knocking the rifle out of his hands. Omega. You take aim at his rifle when he tries to grab it again and fire. Crosshair shoots up as you run to the ramp, grabbing Omega and throwing her inside. Crosshair kept firing with his pistol, you returned fire, but did not hit him. You couldn't hurt him.

--

After the Marauder got into hyperspace, you sat down in Crosshair's room, your shared room. You fiddle with the necklace when the door opens, revealing Omega.

“Hey, are you okay?” The mattress bends a little.

“Yes… no, I’m sad and confused.” You feel tears welling in your eyes but blink them away. Omega looks at your necklace and points at it.

“What’s that?”

You smile softly at her. “It’s an engagement ring.” You chuckle at the confused look on her face. “It’s something that a person gives to someone that they love so much, that they want to spend the rest of their life with them. Crosshair gave this to me.”

“So he loves you and you love him?” The girl scoots closer out of curiosity.

“I love him very very much. I miss him very much too.”

“How did you two meet?”

You raise your eyebrows. “You really want to know?” The girl nods enthusiastically. “Well, it’s actually a pretty funny story. Before I joined the batch, I lived off the grid. When the war started I joined a local militia on Batuu, I was a sniper like Crosshair. Kept innocents safe, took out droids. One day there was a larger group of Seperatist droids causing trouble, I got sent out to look around and take them out.” You look over at Omega and she nods. “Things didn’t go exactly as planned, and a couple of civilians got caught in the middle. A droid was about to take a shot and my rifle had jammed. So I just ran towards it and tackled it. At the same time, someone shot me in the leg. When I looked back, I saw Crosshair standing on a building, all tense. Well, he was grumpy that I blocked his shot and he carried me back to the ship. After I healed up, Hunter offered me a spot on the team. And I’ve been with them ever since.”

The girls eyes widen. “So you’re a sniper too? Can you teach me?”

“Teach you? What, to shoot?” You look at the girl in surprise.

“Yes! I want to help however I can. Can you teach me? Please?” Omega got on her knees and bounced on the bed.

“I’m not the best-” You sigh, “Okay, okay. We can ask Hunter tomorrow.”

“Yes! Thank you, thank you!” Omega hugged you, smiling.

“Of course, why don’t you get some rest. You’ve had a long day.” You pat her head. “You can sleep in here until we set something up for you.”

“I’m not tired though.” She could barely hold her eyes open and she kept yawning.

“Sure you aren’t. Come on, bed time.” You pick the girl up and lay her in the bed across from you. You tucked the blanket around her and got up to leave, but she tugged on your hand. “Y/n?”

“Hm?”

“We’ll get Crosshair back, I know it.” She lets go and closes her eyes.

You crouch down and smile softly, “I know we will too, Omega.”

--

Crosshair sits on his bunk, staring at the necklace in his hands. He looks again at the engraving on the ring. O'r gai bal runi.

“What the hell does that mean?” He grumbles and turns the ring in his hand. I don’t remember why I have this. That women… y/n… she had the same ring around her neck. Who is she? Crosshair puts the necklace on the side table.

He rubs his head, furrowing his brows. Fight back! Fight back dammit! Get out of here!

“Shut up already…” Crosshair climbs into the bunk and stares at the ceiling before closing his eyes.

Everything hurts. NO! NO! Don’t let me hurt them again… I can’t hurt my brothers. I can’t hurt her. Y/n, y/n, please don’t leave me. HELP ME!

“Crosshair!” You shoot up from your bed, gasping for air. You look around wildly in the darkness. I heard him. I swear I heard him.

A small voice calls out, “Y/n? Are you okay?”

“I- Yeah, I’m alright, just had a bad dream. Go back to sleep Omega.”

You lie back down in your bed and grab your necklace, moving it around in your hand. We’ll find you Crosshair, we’ll bring you home.

[hacked-by-jake]

Hi. Can I get 99 with Jake amd MC/Player from Duskwood?

And you couldn’t wait 10 minutes?

A/n: Hi anon, thank you for your request and I hope you like it. Have a great day!

Prompt: “Never scare me like that again!”

Words: 860

-

You are just on your way home from a friend, you have a relaxed afternoon together Verbacht and talked a little.

You wanted to tell her the whole time telling her what was going on in your life, but you couldn’t because of Jake. Although you would have liked to tell her about it. Luckily you have all the chats on your phone, otherwise she would probably never believe you. But who is surprised? You yourself would not believe it.

"Hi, you don’t believe what happened to me, a girl has disappeared and I’m supposed to find her, I’m going to find her! And now I have seven new friends. Alas, and the half-brother who disappeared is a hacker wanted by the government and I absolutely fell in love with him"

Yeah, no, I don’t think so.

You have to smile at that thought.

It’s just 6:00 pm on a Friday.

Slowly the sun sets in front of you and the sky turns into a beautiful orange. Only a few clouds can be seen in the sky.

The air is beautifully clear and does your soul good.

There are not many people on the road even though it is not that late.

Through headphones you listen to your favorite song and just enjoy the moment, the moment when there is a little peace and no stress.

No negative feelings, thoughts or negative situations that seem to happen every 10 seconds in Duskwood.

Maybe it’s because you switched your phone to mute for the way at home. Just so you have some time to yourself for the first time in weeks. Lately, you’ve always been there right away when your phone made a sound to be able to help directly or evaluate new evidence with Jake.

No matter where you were, once your phone made a noise, you were ready for anything.

Also today you have been available all day for everyone although you had a meeting. Of course, you like to help Hannah. Of course you want to help save Hannah. Otherwise you wouldn’t be there anymore.

But in the long run, the stress is not good for you. Logically.

-

You sing the lines of the song in your head and just focus on it.

Until your music is suddenly interrupted by a loud cracking and then continues to play normally.

You put your forehead in folds from the unpleasant noise.Probably just a small disturbance, you thought.

HA, what a naive thought.

"MC?" suddenly sounds the mechanical voice of a certain hacker right in your ear, loud and unpleasant.

You almost scare yourself to death and twitch violently.At the same moment a small scream leaves your mouth in shock.

"Is everything okay with you MC? Are you in danger?" asks Jake and despite the voice distortion you can hear concern.

"Oh, my God," you pant.

Your heart beats as fast as if you have running a marathon. You put one hand on your forehead and the other on your chest, right where your heart is.

Your breath is faltering and you feel like someone is about to attack you. Even though you know it’s just Jake in your ears, your body is ready to respond accordingly.

"MC?" the voice sounds again and does not help you to calm down.

"Shit Jake, what the fuck? I almost had a heart attack!" you hissed.

"Ah well, good, you’re there" he sounds relieved.

"What the hell was that? What are you doing in my phone?" you ask upset.

Your legs are shaking and you have to hold on to a house wall to maintain balance.

"I’m sorry if I scared you"

"That wasn’t just a shock!" you shouted and pulled your phone out of your pocket to look up.

It’s all perfectly normal, no call which you accepted by mistake, no glowing button to hang up, just your screen.

"Why?" you ask hysterically.

"You didn’t answer, it’s important, and I was worried"

"You were worried? You’rethe reason why you have to worry"

Slowly you calm down, your heart beats slower and you can breathe normally again.

Your legs are still shivering from adrenaline, but even that seems to be improving.

"And instead of calling me, do you hack my phone? Or you take the control?"

"First I just wanted to know if you turned off your tone when you didn’t answer. When I saw that the sound is out, I saw it as my only option, "he explains.

"And you couldn’t wait 10 minutes? I told you I was on my way home."

"Yeah, I know, but it’s getting dark soon, and I was worried because you're going home alone, so I wanted to make sure everything was okay." The voice is hard to understand. It sounds like he’s mumbling.

Even if you’re not thrilled that he just hacked your phone, even though he’s always in your phone, to read all chats, it’s sweet that he was so worried.

He may have frightened you excessively, but the reason is an apology.

"It’s okay, but...NEVER SCARE ME LIKE THAT AGAIN!" you say extra loud, hoping he also wears headphones.

----

🌹