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in1-nutshell · 5 months

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Hmmm do know what we don’t have? ANGST! Picture this: Buddy is a pilot for a giant mecha. Each suit is user specific as they share a psychic connection with their chosen pilot as Buddy generates the power for them similar to the way a spark powers a Cybertronian. They can go months without eating, sleeping, or drinking while they pilot it. But Buddy had a bad encounter with the Decepticons while exploring space which separated them from their squad and left them fearful of revealing their organic nature to the Crew of the Arc. They know the Autobots are good people, but having the Decepticons respond to with fear and violence that left them and their partner so close to death? It’s better to just leave something’s unsaid… even if it kills them that they can’t be honest with their friends

Do we all love a little angst from time to time? The whole mind link thing reminded me of 'Avatar', which in itself is an interesting concept with a mech suit. Since you did not specify the continuity or characters, I randomly selected them. If this is not what you wanted, please let me know.

Hope you enjoy!

Hound, Ironhide, and Prowl’s reaction to Human Buddy in a giant mech suit (with mind linked to it like Avatar)

SFW, angst, mentions of PTSD, mentions of malnourishment and illness (but nothing explicit), happy ending, platonic, Human Reader

The Mech suit was safe. It was Buddy’s safe place. After all, they wouldn’t have survived the Decepticon attack if it wasn’t for the suit. They remembered how the brutal attack was left in the station.

They remembered the screams and yelling.

The sounds of blaring alarms and missiles exploding.

Those awful sounds…

Thank goodness they were found by Cosmos in the space station’s ruins. Buddy only had the mech suit and the airlock pod that had their organic form when he found them.

As much as Buddy hated the weak form of their organic body was, they still needed it to have this body operational. So, Buddy kept up with appearances on the Arc and guarded the tiny pod with their life. Many bots tried to pry the pod open, but that usually ended up with Buddy’s pede in their chassis.

A couple of days passed and the warning signs of their organic body failing began appearing. Buddy knew it was important to give the metal body a break but the memories of the attack… it was too much…

They did, however, miscalculate the length of the warnings because one minute they were walking down the halls with one of their bot friends and the next they were staring at the covering of the pod.

Uh oh…

Hound

Hound was so concerned when his friend suddenly fainted. All their biolights off and optics gone offline.

“Buddy? Buddy! Can you hear me!? Don’t worry, I’ll take you to the medbay! If you can hear me keep hanging in there!”--Hound

He scoops them up and is racing to Ratchet for help.

It isn’t until he passes by Buddy’s room, he hears something inside, something coming from the pod. Taking a risk, he went inside the room with the limp body in his servos and looked at the pod.

The pods doors suddenly opened revealing a rather malnourished and exhausted looking human.

“…”--Buddy

“…”--Hound

“… I can explain—”--Buddy

“Why do you sound like Buddy!”--Hound

“Oh this is going to take a bit to explain…”--Buddy

It took some explaining from the human to finally figure out what was happening.

Hound is sympathetic to Buddy’s situation. While he is hurt that they kept this sercret, he has kept secrets too. Hound isn’t able to judge a secret. He is quick to accept Buddy, the bot and human.

He vouches for Buddy when they do come out to the rest of the crew.

“So, your real body is in this pod here and then your mind goes into this body?”--Hound

“Yes.”--Buddy

“… This sounds like a human film I saw one time. I don’t remember the name of it, but it was a rather long one.”--Hound

Ironhide

Ironhide already has his servos on Buddy and is running to the medbay. He is not wasting any time, for all he knows every nanosecond is precious.

“Buddy! Oh Primus—EVERYONE OUT OF THE WAY! SOMEONE GET RATCHET TO THE MEDBAY STAT!”--Ironhide

A moment of silence for the mechs that got trampled by Ironhide trying to get to the medbay.

He doesn’t know what just happened, but he knows that something like this isn’t common.

It’s just Ironhide and Ratchet when he comes in. As Ratchet starts examining Buddy’s body they come to a horrific conclusion, Buddy’s body wasn’t even Cybertronain. In fact, it had some similar human machinery than anything close to their anatomy.

It was a hollow shell.

A soft thud was heard in the medbay. It was coming from out of the pod. A muffled noise was heard from the inside.

“Ratchet, did you hear that?”--Ironhide

“Shh! Quiet!”--Ratchet

…

*muffled* “GET ME OUT OF HERE!”--Buddy

“Did—did that pod just—”--Ironhide

*muffled* “IRONHIDE!”--Buddy

“Yeah, I think it did! Pass me those pliers.”--Ratchet

Ironhide and Ratchet carefully pry open the pod and out popped Buddy.

Everyone is just surprised at what was happening. Ratchet is jumping into action seeing how sickly Buddy looked. Ironhide wants answers but he also knows that this isn’t the time for it.

Buddy does eventually tell him and Ratchet what was going on. Ironhide… he can’t exactly be too angry about this no matter how much this bothers him he can’t.

He knows what it’s like to fear for your life around bots that could potentially end your existence.

Ironhide does talk to Buddy about it.

He vouches for Buddy when they tell everyone else on board.

“Kid, go on and sleep. It’s been a long day even by Autobot standards.”--Ironhide

“I’m okay ‘Hide.”--Buddy

“Kid that’s not a suggestion. When was the last time you slept?”--Ironhide

“…”--Buddy

Buddy starts sprinting in the opposite direction.

Ironhide is close behind.

“GET BACK HERE AND SLEEP!”--Ironhide

“NO!”--Buddy

Prowl

Prowl is internally freaking out when Buddy’s body goes slack. He is quick to hoist them on his back.

“Buddy? Buddy?! Now’s not the time for your games! Primus, Ratchet!”--Prowl

He is quick to comm in Ratchet and escorts them to their room as it was the closest. Prowl is not expecting a tiny human to come crawling out of the pod looking half dead. He had his sneaking suspicions about the pod and all of the human references Buddy had made, but he thought he might have been a bit too paranoid.

“…”--Buddy

“…”--Prowl

“I can explain—”--Buddy

“You BETTER START!”--Prowl

Ratchet was so close to exiting out of the room when he saw Prowl arguing with a malnourished human with Buddy’s discarded body in a corner.

It takes a bit for Buddy to explain as they are trying hard to stay awake. Prowl while he wants all the answers, he backs off seeing how Buddy is. After Ratchet helps patch them up Buddy does their best to explain everything.

Prowl has conflicted feelings about Buddy hiding their identity.

On one servo he is angry.

How could Buddy hide such important information from everyone, from him?

On the other he is understanding.

He can’t count the number of times where he had to lie low in fear of triggering the enemy.

Not that he would ever admit that.

Prowl does give Buddy some space to decide on his feelings of this new discovery.

He does make up his mind and stands by Buddy as they explain everything to the rest of the crew.

“Was what we had… was it real?”--Prowl

“Prowl, all that I said was true. None of it was fake.”--Buddy

“…How can I trust you?”--Prowl

“You shouldn’t… but if things seemed fake on your part—”--Buddy

“No, no my feelings were true.”--Prowl

“Friends?”--Buddy

“Friends.”--Prowl

“… What in the Pits did I just witnessed?”--Ratchet

#maccadam #transformers #transformers x reader #idw mtmte #mtmte x reader #tf hound #tf prowl #tf ironhide #human buddy

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thestorycfus · 3 years

Text

The Sweetest Apparition - Part 3

Pairing: Peggy Carter x fem!Reader

Summary: Reader is a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent and historian who specializes in the life and legacy of Captain Carter. After Nick Fury uses the Tesseract to bring Peggy back, the Director of S.H.I.E.L.D. contacts the reader to help her navigate life in the XXI century.

Warnings and notes: Food, mentions of Steggy, mentions of Stucky, very small mentions of war. Other characters are also mentioned. This got way longer than the first two parts, but there’s also way more Peggy here. This series takes place after the last scene of What If… episode one, including spoilers to that episode. Reader uses she/her pronouns.

Word count: 2,304

Series Masterlist

It should be a short walk to your apartment, but you made a small stop each time Captain Carter was curious about something. You also got some take out on the way, making sure to pick at least four different options from separate places and a couple of desserts too, since you didn’t know her taste yet. It was a while before you made it to your street.

During the entire time, your chatting was limited to safe topics - how loud and bright the city was, how many screens there were, the amount of coffee options that existed now. You watched Carter fall in love with her caramel coffee and made a mental note to buy her more sweets.

Soon, the Captain would also need to go shopping. Fury had gotten her the formal white blouse and the black pants she wore now, an outfit much more discreet than the uniform she was wearing when she fell, but that was her entire wardrobe at the moment. That was another mission you should handle, but it could wait until after lunch.

When you finally got home, you placed the food over a kitchen counter and gave Carter a quick tour of the apartment. It wasn’t much, but hopefully it would be enough for both of you until she was more familiar with this century. The tour ended where it started: in your tiny kitchen. You pulled a stool for the Captain and presented her with the options for lunch.

“I suppose you’ve never tried some of those, so I got a few different meals. Burritos, sweet and sour chicken, calzones and Pad Thai. For dessert, there’s lemon tart and triple chocolate cake. I might have gotten a little carried away.”

Peggy took a seat and examined her options. You wondered if that would be, technically her first meal since the 40’s.

“They are all tempting, but I might start with this one.” Her eyes were fixated on a burrito as if it was the Holy Grail. Yeah, that was surely the first time she ate in seventy years. She dove in, so focused on her meal that you didn’t dare to interrupt. Meanwhile, you took the other stool and picked a calzone, eating it while you watched Carter.

You were still trying to wrap your head around the fact that she was really here, and it was surprising that you hadn’t completely freaked out so far, but the prospect of the rest of the day started to worry you. The Captain would certainly have a lot of questions and, if there were inquiries that Fury left for you to answer, they probably pertained more to her personal life than to great historical events.

If the registers about her were right, it wouldn’t be long before the real conversation started. Peggy Carter was too smart to have such a debate in the middle of the street, but she wasn’t known for stalling. As soon as she finished her meal, in the privacy of your (now shared) kitchen, you would have to provide about seven decades of answers.

Before you could try to prepare yourself, she was done with her second burrito. You almost suggested dessert, but the look she gave you left no room for pauses. Carter turned on her stool to face you directly, her posture becoming straighter and her eyes never leaving yours. She was the perfect image of Captain Carter, the hero, the legend who defeated all odds. Still, when she spoke, there was softness in her voice.

“The meal was lovely and so is the apartment. I can’t thank you enough for you kindness, Agent L/N, but I must ask a few things more of you. If you have studied about my life, you must know what happened to Steve Rogers after I was gone.”

You should be ready for that. Of course her first personal concern would be about Rogers. His story with Carter went down in history as a tragic tale of love, bravery and loss. To his last days, Rogers had made it his mission to honor her legacy, but that wasn’t all that he did. How do you tell a person that the love of her life went on to live a decades long, fulfilling relationship with someone else, even though, from her perspective, they were together the day before?

“Please, call me Y/N. And you can ask anything, Captain. I will tell you everything I can.” You took a deep breath, going through the words in your head in search of the best way to let her know. It was best to keep nothing out. Carter deserved that. “Steve Rogers continued to serve as the Hydra Stomper until the war had ended and all known Hydra operations had been eliminated. After that, he stepped out of the suit so that Howard Stark could continue his research with the Tesseract. I believe neither of them ever gave up on bringing you back, but, in many ways, they also moved on to build new lives.”

You made a small pause, in case she wanted to say something, but Carter only gave you a nod, encouraging you to continue. It was impossible to look away from her eyes, or to keep anything hidden when she stared at you with such intensity. Even in silence, sitting still, she emanated a power that kept you talking.

“A few years after the war, Rogers and Stark started an intelligence agency to keep the world safe from threats we could barely understand. They named it S.H.I.E.L.D., because of you. That is the agency I work for, directed by Nick Fury.” There was something poetic in the way that same agency ended up being the reason Peggy Carter was back, but it wasn’t your place to point that out. “Rogers never stopped fighting, even without the suit. He was a legendary agent, working along with James Barnes until they retired. They were also together for the rest of their lives.”

That was the piece of information you feared would break Carter’s heart, but she had a bright smile after hearing that.

“That suits them. All of them.” The joy in her voice sounded so sincere, and you couldn’t help but ask.

“Were you and Rogers… Together? It is said so in the official files, but…” In your studies, you sometimes wondered if their relationship was just a myth, maybe a publicity stunt to humanize the fallen super soldier. It was your job to question the data, but you had never paid that possibility much attention until now.

Instead of being offended by your invasion of her privacy, Carter laughed so lightly and freely that you felt your cheeks getting warm.

“Oh, darling, Steve Rogers had a heart too big to have only one soul mate. He was the love of my life, yes, and I was the love of his, but not the only one. A love so beautiful and dedicated is supposed to be shared. Of course I’m sad I didn’t get to share the rest of his life with him, but I’m relieved to know that he and Bucky had each other. And that’s not to say I’m a being of such virtue that I’m above jealousy. I felt jealous of Steve alright, many times, but I could never be jealous of him with Buck. They fit well together and they were good for each other. They were real, just as Steve and I were. Steve deserved to be loved through a lifetime. I’m grateful that he was.”

Carter’s eyes shined with tears, but she didn’t allow any to fall. Maybe she would let herself grief for the lost possibilities later, but for now she was handling such an emotional journey with more elegance than you thought possible. It didn’t seem to be an act at all. On the contrary, what touched you the most was the honesty in her words. That selflessness of being genuinely happy to hear of how her soul mate lived on without her, in love with someone else, told you more about Peggy Carter than any history book ever had. And that’s how she reacted right after being thrown into the next century, coming directly from a war and landing in a world she didn’t recognize.

“I don’t think history ever made you justice, Captain. The general public thinks of you as a hero, but they’re so far from knowing the person behind the suit... You know, it’s very nice to meet you.” You couldn’t help but sharing a bit of what was on your mind. To that moment, your hero was turning out to be even better than your daydreams, and it was only fair to let her know so.

At that, she gave you a big smile and your heart skipped a beat. You would have a hard time sharing an apartment with this woman.

“You are far too kind to me. To be honest, they never showed much interest on me, suit or not, until I went against official orders and started throwing tanks around and fighting the battles that needed to be fought. I am more concerned about what I am able to achieve, regardless of how they will see me. And there’s no need to call me Captain, Y/N. Heavens, we live and work together now and you’re my guide to modern life. Peggy is fine. And it’s nice to meet you too.” She took the initiative to get a slice of chocolate cake, already making herself at home. You had the feeling that her adaptation to this world wouldn’t be too difficult, all things considered. Peggy Carter would take whatever she was given and make more of it than anyone imagined possible.

“As you wish, Peggy. Speaking of that, there’s a lot I think you’ll like to see about life now. What else are you curious about?” You took your own slice of cake, trying to feel at ease in this conversation. You couldn’t be on high alert whenever Carter was around if she was going to be around all the time, but that was easier said than done. Your responsibilities here were enormous and, to be frank, you were determined to be your best self and impress her, even if just a bit. Maybe telling her about the wonders of nowadays technology would do the trick.

“I am curious about everything. I can’t wait to know all about the development of science, or what I missed in seven decades of sociopolitical turmoil, but there’s one more person I’d love to hear about before we get to that. You mentioned Howard moving on with his life, didn’t you? What exactly was that little menace up to while I was gone?”

Now, that was a rich topic of conversation.

“Well, Stark continued his research with the Tesseract and with many other projects, sometimes along with the US government, and he built a billionaire empire. Weapons, all sorts of technology, wild parties. The man had everything. He has a son, Tony, who inherited the tech, the money and the brains, but with a stronger inclination to heroism. You see, Tony Stark built himself a supersuit, partially inspired by his father’s Hydra Stomper, but with a larger variety of uses. It’s said that Steve Rogers was a sort of mentor to him, but I couldn’t get Stark to talk a lot about it when I interviewed him.”

You couldn’t tell which part made Peggy more excited. She nodded along as you listed Howard Stark’s achievements, as if it was all expected, and her eyes got wider when you told her about his son. When you mentioned Rogers, she almost jumped in her seat. She was already invested, but dropping that name sealed the deal.

“Fury gave me this.” She took two business cards out of her pocket. “It has his telephone number and Barton’s too. Could I use your telephone to call him? I would like to meet this Tony Stark, and I bet Fury would be able to reach him.”

Giving Director Fury a call from your cellphone felt strange, but how could you deny Peggy that? If the Director gave her the number, he wanted her to be able to reach him, right?

Instead of dialing yourself, you showed Carter how to use the phone. She looked like a kid on Christmas whenever she was given access to new technology. You would make sure she got a cellphone of her own soon so you could show her everything the device could do.

She called Fury and you waited as they talked for less than two minutes. Peggy handed you the phone when she was done, with a smile that said she got what she wanted.

“So, what did the Director say?” You asked, anxious to know the outcome of the call.

“We’re meeting Tony Stark tomorrow at 2pm in his tower. Was it him who named it Stark tower or is that Howard’s doing?” She narrowed her eyes a bit, still smiling.

“The tower was built by Tony, so I think we can’t blame Howard for that one.” You joked. “Are you meeting Fury at S.H.I.E.L.D. before you two go to Stark’s?”

“Oh, Fury is not going. He booked the meeting for you and me, if you would like to accompany me.” Peggy sounded hesitant, as if she had just considered that you might not want to join her on that plan.

"You’re asking me if I wish to be there when Captain Carter meets Tony Stark? Please, if I didn’t get the chance to be a part of that exchange, I would beg you for a detailed retelling as soon as you got home.”

Your reply made Peggy laugh once more, and you were getting used to that sound very quickly.

#peggy carter #peggy carter x reader #peggy carter imagine #peggy carter x you #captain carter x reader #captain carter #what if #what if spoilers #marvel #peggy carter m #marvel m #m #the sweetest apparition series

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nymphigeon · 3 years

Text

From me, to you || 07

♤ Pairing: Taehyung x Reader

♤ Genre: fluff, angst, romance, hybrid au, hybrid!Taehyung, detective!reader

♤ Words: 2.5k

♤ Rating: PG-13

♤ Warnings (for this chapter): Mentions of hybrid abuse, swearing.

♤ A/N: Surprise! I'm really sorry it took me this long, but I finally found the time and drive to write again :) Anyway, hope you enjoy!

Synopsis: A story in which he has never known love, so you’ll give it to him.

Series masterlist

06 07

"What do you mean this hybrid doesn't exist?"

Her eyes are wavering with an unspoken fear, perhaps caused by the bitterness my questions holds. I'm not happy, and she knows.

“It’s just, the chance that a dangerous breed such as the tiger hybrid would escape our system is basically zero..” The gaze she held on the computer screen unsurely moves my way. My expression must've instilled another layer of anxiety to the already existing one, as her mouth abruptly stops moving and her pupils dilate.

“Go on, explain.” The tone of my voice softens a bit as I notice her visible discomfort worsening. Even if there is no way that I’ll get any information from this place regarding Taehyung and his owner, I would still like to know why they’re both not showing up here.

Eun-ji takes a few deep breaths to stabilize her voice. As she does her posture slowly relaxes just a little and her eyes lose some of the nervousness they held before. “Because the first ‘successful’ tiger hybrid ran rampant after killing their creator, anyone who still breeds or creates them is being watched very closely by us, as well as by some other institutions.”

Perhaps it’s my lack of reaction that causes her to trail off at the end. Though I’m not judging her or her story, unlike she may think. To encourage her to continue, I give her a nod, tilting my head to show interest.

“The regular citizen isn’t even allowed to have one, needing special training to handle them. It’s like that for most hybrids that find their origins in wild animals. Creating tiger hybrids obviously requires a lot of knowledge when it comes to playing with genes and breeding them…. Well there are only three organization that are authorized to do so. All the resulting hybrids are registered and chipped.”

The explanation, which turns out to be a lengthy one, gets broken by a shuddering breath leaving her lips. She composes herself, clinging on to the little confidence she has left in her line of work to speak about the rest of her clarification.

“Of course people have tried to do it themselves, but those d.i.y operations have always ended in disappointment. If not taken proper care of, with substances only a board certified hybrid doctor can provide you, the pregnancy will fail. These are no easy practices they are dealing with.”

After the girls’ last words I give myself some time to think, letting a silence full of tension fill the room. It must be obvious that my mind is somewhere else at the moment, as the other girl in the room does her best to stay quiet. I don’t need much time however, my thoughts having quickly rearranged themselves as they were trained to do.

“So what you’re saying is, since tiger hybrids are hard to ‘create’, if you will, there are only a few people who actually manage to bring them to life. And so those few people are kept under close watch, as are the hybrids they successfully wake, am I correct?”

Eun-ji nods affirmatively, clearly happy that I seem to understand the situation. “So there is absolutely no way that someone without authorization has had a decent attempt at either genetically merging a human together with a tiger or getting a tiger hybrid pregnancy to be successful?”

Perhaps there might be a bit of scepticism in the question I asked, as her attitude immediately changes into a defensive one. “There is not! Whatever hybrid you’re searching for either gave you a false identity or is not a tiger hybrid at all, which would seem rather unlikely. I told you they get chipped right? Why not go look into that.”

“He doesn’t have one. We already had a hospital take a look at him, they didn’t find anything. ” The statement seems to shock her, the gears in her head instantly turning as to find an answer to this riddle. She however can’t seem to get one.

“They can be removed, can they not? They’re just under the skin. If someone decided to just cut it out they could. Terrifying, but plausible. Either that or one of your faithful authorized employees has been leaking information to outsiders.”

This is where Eun-ji seems to give up. Her shoulders sagging and a heavy sigh leaving her lips. “There would still be the problem of the missing equipment, test subjects, practice… How would you even get hold of fertilized human eggs to play around with? But I guess that wouldn’t be totally impossible. As for cutting it out… There would be a noticeable scar. The implants are always put in the same place, it wouldn’t be hard to miss.”

I make a mental note stating to ask Taehyung about all of this when I get back. If anyone knows how he got onto this world it would be him. “Is there a possibility that you could have someone look into it?” The girl nods in defeat, paying more attention to the ground than to anything else. “I’ll see if I can get someone on the case. I’ll have them contact you if we know anything.”

After those words she turns around in her chair, facing the monitor that had already put itself into sleep, and turns it off. Taking a notepad out of the drawer to her left, she quickly writes something down with the pen from her breast pocket. “I’ll get on it right away. Would you like me to walk you back to the exit?”

I shake my head. “No It’s okay, I’ll find my way back. Thank you for cooperating.” Eun-ji gives me a small smile, followed by a bow and walks out of the room taking the note with her, presumably immediately keeping herself busy with the extra work. Not wanting to waste any time I copy her, walking myself back into the direction we came from. Turns out it proves quite easy to find the exit by myself.

It’s already far past dinnertime when I make it back to the office. Not many of my colleagues have remained in their seats, most of them opting for a nice meal with their families. The few that have stayed behind are mostly known to live alone, quite like myself.

I quietly knock on my supervisor’s door, but when no response emerges from within the room, I can safely deduce that she too has already returned home. “I’ll have to write her a report about today later..” I mutter to myself, before stepping away from the door and instead heading to the cells at the back.

Technically the arrest period had already ended for Taehyung, as the law wouldn’t allow us to keep him locked up for any longer without any charges being held against him. His cell however technically was never locked and so even now, he is free to go wherever he wants. Though it didn’t change the fact that he still has no place to go to.

“Good evening. Had anything to eat yet?” He just chose to stay here and we accepted it. “Oh, hello! Yes, that tall handsome bulky man gave me something earlier, I can’t remember his name. He said something about it ‘being the best shit in town’.”

I slightly giggle at his quote, knowing immediately who it belongs to. “That definitely sounds like something Namjoon would say. What did he give you?”

Taehyung looks a lot better than he did yesterday. The stress of the interrogation seems to have completely worn off, instead traded for the sweet bouncy personality he used to show around me.

“Umm it was something in the shape of a circle and it had meat all over it… Oh! I think he called it a pizza? It was delicious!”

“You’ve never had pizza before?” The words leave my mouth before I actually get the chance to process them, causing me to instantly regret ever even opening my mouth. These days are stressful enough for him as they are, he doesn’t need a painful reminder of the life he never got to live on top of that.

The question doesn’t seem to hit him as hard as I though it would though. In fact, his demeanour doesn’t seem to change at all. Although sadly, it doesn’t make his next words any less painful. “Nope! When I first got adopted all they would feed me was wet cat food. It wasn’t great, but at least I got my three meals a day. The foster family I stayed at after my first owners mysteriously disappeared didn’t actually have the money to even take proper care of themselves, so at that time all I would get was whatever was left of their dinner that day, if there was even any left. It was mostly just greens. The lack of meat made me real sick at the time.”

He pauses talking for a second to look up at my face through the metal bars. The content look on his face quickly changes to one of worry once he catches my eyes. It’s no mystery why, I know I look at him pitifully. Even if he may not wish for my concern, I am only human. I can perfectly hide it when I need to, but this is not one of those cases.

“There it is again, that sad look on your face…” He sits up straight on the side of his bed to fully observe me, a tilt of his head giving him away. I send a sad chuckle his way as I reach for the door of his enclosure, inviting myself into the small space with him. He doesn’t object.

“Is it that obvious?” It was meant more as a way to lighten the mood, not as an actual question that needs answering. He still does however, giving me a simple slow nod. “You don’t need to feel bad for me.”

“Someone has to. You deserve at least that much.”

There’s a chair neatly placed under a small desk in the room. It used to be quite lively, with all kinds of bright colours blending into each other. It was a little positive additive into the dark grey room, but after all the anger that has been acted out on it, it no longer has that same shine.

I pull the chair out to place myself upon it, straddling the seat while I rest my arms on top of the back rest. Facing the tiger I use my arms as a pillow to lean my head on, making myself comfortable on the creaking furniture.

“Say, Taehyung, do you remember anything from when and where you were formed?”

He seems slightly taken aback at first, though quickly regains his composure. He also doesn’t immediately answer, first taking some time to think before coming back to me. “I was born a hybrid to two purebred tiger hybrids. They did their best trying to care for me in the little time we got to spend together, but seeing as it happened on a breeding farm getting to spend time with my parents wasn’t the plan. I got sold off pretty quickly, as soon as I learned to hold my first few full conversations.”

“Do you… Would you happen to know what happened to the farm? To your parents?” I fail to hide my apprehensiveness, needing too much space to form a careful approach. This shouldn’t feel like an interrogation to him, I never even announced one. There is little reason for him to answer me, the vital information from his side has already been given anyway. Nonetheless, even though I probably shouldn’t be doing this right now, I can’t just miss this opportunity.

“I heard my adoptive family talking about how the place was burnt down a while later. Most likely the police had caught a hold of it and they had to delete their left behind evidence. Both building and hybrids.”

Despite talking about the death of his parents, he seems to tell the story with relative ease. Probably not having much connection with the far past, his brain too young to truly hold on to the memory of them.

“They were successful too, as the case got dropped faster than lightning. It wasn’t long before the general public forgot about it too, believing it was just another misunderstanding. Besides, hybrid lives weren’t as important anyway.”

The amount of rights hybrids had when they were first created back in the day were close to zero, only strictly being seen as objects to show off whatever possible wealth one may have had. For a while there was even a popular theory going around that hybrids didn’t actually have the ability to feel any kind of emotion or pain. The genetic puzzle wouldn’t allow for it, as it had been tampered with to an extreme extent. This only built on the carelessness shown towards them, slowly chipping away at their sanity.

Although the rumours were wrong, they came from a place of truth. Facial expressions were rare for hybrids, as was the ability to speak. Most of them couldn’t even keep up with regular humans, exhaustion quickly taking over the little anger they could show. Scientists hadn’t yet quite figured out how to perfectly combine the pieces of genetic code and so hybrids were more like living dolls in the eyes of evil humans. Having no voice to object and barely any means to actually hurt anyone, it wasn’t much of a surprise the selfish nature in humans came to rise.

Luckily, or depending on how you look at it, sadly, these first generation hybrids were never able to reproduce. The doll like hybrid features eventually died out with the rise of the newly perfected pieces and the theory was debunked by a group of scientist who actually did care about the hybrids’ wellbeing. Those hybrids had lived through countless punishments, and every single one of them had hurt. A lot.

Right now hybrids in a lot of ways are superior to the rest of us. Having the combined senses of both animal and human alike, society has reluctantly given up on trying to contain them. They are still to be bought and owned, but no longer to be treated like dirt. The smartest of hybrids have even already gotten complete freedom to do as the please, no longer having to be bound to a human to roam freely. However, those unable to pass the close to impossible tests aren’t so lucky.

“I’m sorry about what happened.”

Taehyung gives me a reassuring wave of his hand, effectively trying to lighten the mood, along with a sad smile. It wouldn’t take a trained professional to know he still longs for his parent’s presence, even if he may do well hiding it.

“It’s okay, it wasn’t your fault.”

That doesn’t make the situation more okay, but I hold my remarks back. For now, that might just be for the best.

Taglist

@suhappysuho @intellectualxprincess @sana-b @littlewolfieposts @nellaphine @the8luvr @deathkat657 @elenaramos1 @namjoonies-dimple

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nuttynutcycle · 3 years

Text

Movie Night

Part Two here

"Is this a Star Wars or Star Trek night?"

Villain glanced back and forth between the two titles, conflicted.

"My gut says Star Wars." Hero answered. They split the popcorn into separate bowls and brought them over to where Villain was sitting. Hero took Empire Strikes Back and began the setup. A sound of rustling papers came from behind them.

"Lion King."

"Nope." Hero replied over their shoulder. They heard Villain scribble something down.

"Thirteen going on Thirty."

Hero considered lying, but didn't feel like going through the cross-examination. "Also nope."

"Sharknado."

"That can't be a real thing." Movie ready, they took a seat beside Villain on the couch. "How many are on your must-see list for me now?"

Villain double-checked their worn notebook. "Around 70."

One movie a night - that was going to take months to get through. Time spent away from keeping people safe. And if the current evening death toll kept up… Hero did the math and paled.

Seeing the look on their face, Villain took a fistful of popcorn from Hero's bowl. “A shame you didn't spend more of your past watching famous movies. Calm down; you're well on your way to interacting in society without making a fool of yourself."

"Ah yes, because Star Wars references are incredibly useful in saving lives." Hero snapped. Honestly, they didn't see the appeal behind the franchise. What kind of antagonist's main intimidation tactic was breathing loudly? Who wears a cape in space? Plus, Hero still wasn't sure who had shot first in A New Hope.

To be fair, they would have enjoyed the movie a lot more without the terrified sobbing coming from the corner.

Blindfolded, gagged and restrained with earplugs, the civilians were never aware of their purpose. Every night a new one would be taken and, if Hero behaved, released when the movie was over.

The first time Villain showed up on their doorstep with a hostage, Hero had leapt to free the shaking young woman. Villain broke her arm in retaliation without blinking an eye.

After a few weeks, Hero had gotten somewhat used to the terrified leverage Villain held over them. If anything, the civilian would be safe for the evening while Hero was out of commission. Whoever was paying Villain to keep Hero 'entertained' excelled at spreading the news of Hero's newfound break time to the rest of the underground. Crime and death rates skyrocketed during those evening hours. Watching the reports later was always the worst part of Hero's guilt-ridden mornings.

"I'll try to grab a quieter one next time. This is really putting a damper on the experience." Villain turned their head to glare at the oblivious civilian.

"Not like it will make this movie any worse. I can feel it lowering my IQ." Better to aim the angry villain at themselves. They knew from experience how much Villain adored movies and the brutal reaction to criticism.

Malice emanated from the Villain as they leaned back with a calculating tilt of their head.

"Darth Vader is Luke's father and Leia is his twin sister."

"… real mature revenge. Thanks for spoiling the trilogy for me, dickhead."

Villain grinned, the tension defusing. "I feel like I just deflowered you in some way. How does it feel to be spoiled?"

"Shut up." Hero grumbled, turning their attention back to the movie. Excluding the civilian's sobbing and Villain's hysterical laughter during Luke and Leia's kiss, the rest of the film passed quickly. Hero even found themselves getting lost in scenes before a siren would go by. They'd grit their teeth and try to ignore Villain patting their shoulder in mock comfort.

Once the movie ended, Villain handed the hostage off to their lackey waiting outside the house and paused. Turning back to face Hero, Villain closed the door behind them. "This Thursday, we're doing a full day of Disney. You're running low on popcorn, make sure you pick some up tomorrow."

Hero froze. Their blood ran cold at the words, at the thought of what could be accomplished in that time. "What’s your boss planning?" they asked quietly.

"She's gotten tired of holding back." An excited, almost manic gleam entered Villain's eyes. "Don't worry, I think you'll love what we do with the city."

Pure fury at the Villain and their own helplessness took over. Hostage forgotten, they lunged for Villain. They managed to crack one hit before invisible hands gripped and slammed them against the wall.

"Don't do anything stupid." Villain warned. They rubbed the spot Hero had struck them, a sharp shiner rising. "Against my better judgement, I've grown fond of our movie nights. I would hate for you to be distracted from Return of the Jedi by human remains all over your couch."

The hands on Hero tightened, and breathing suddenly shot to the top of their priority list. They fought for air. "Why… why are you telling me about Thursday?"

"Who knows? Maybe I like making threats. Reminding you of the position you're in. Maybe I like how you look when you're angry." Villain straightened their clothes and let Hero drop, satisfied with their point made. "Or maybe, like I said earlier, it's the popcorn. Seriously. Get some of that popcorn salt too."

Hero gasped for breath from their place on the floor. "Anything else I should get? Before the big day?"

Villain laughed, kneeling beside them. "I'm not that easy, Hero. You won't get any information out of me. Let's just say I'm very excited." They lifted Hero's chin, probing Hero with a piercing gaze. "Are you going to cooperate?"

After some hesitation on Hero's part, they nodded.

"See, I told her you would behave. Nice to know you're still predictable." They stood, giving a mocking smile before leaving Hero's house for the night.

Clenching their fists, Hero marched over to the couch and searched it for any bugs Villain might have concealed. The same process was repeated for the rest of the room. Satisfied, Hero sat and placed their head in their hands. 24 hours for the criminals to do whatever they wanted in the city… Hero shuddered at the thought.

Their situation was not, as Villain assumed, completely binding of Hero's ability to do their job. It just made it impossible to do without loss.

"911, what is your emergency?"

"Hero is going to be out of commission on Thursday. You need to call in heroes from other cities. The criminal underground is preparing -"

The operator interrupted. "Slow down. How do you know this?"

Hero took a deep breath. What good is a hero with no one to protect?

When it came down to it, they chose people over their secret identity every time.

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summahsunlight · 3 years

Text

Perhaps It’s Fate, Part 22

Rating: T, to be safe

Word Count: 1.6k+

Summary: After joining the Resistance as a mechanic, you were happy to keep to yourself, until a little orange and white bb unit and his master wander into your workshop one day.

Pairings: Poe Dameron x Mechanic!Reader

Start from the beginning!

Taglist: @ms-dont-care, @starless-eyes-remain, @elmoakepoke, @marvelobsessiononastick, @kiaralein, @softly-sad, @totalpoedameron, @ordinarymom1, @sevvysaurus, @spider-starry, @liadamerondjarin, @jingyuhearteu, @dream-alittlebiggerdarling, @paintballkid711, @ren-ni, @lostinwonderland314, @elite4cekalyma,@elisabethbathgate

Here is the next part! Likes, comments, and reblog are always appreciated. I hope that you enjoy it. Remember the taglist is open if you want to be added just let me know! Happy reading lovelies!🥰❤️

Poe gasped, jolted awake suddenly. It took several seconds for him to realize that he was no longer on the Finalizer, that he was no longer shackled to that table. He spent so much time making sure you didn’t have panic attacks that he never dealt with his own trauma. He couldn’t deal with his own trauma--you were more important.

Shifting on the tight little bunk, Poe looked down at you sleeping soundly next to him. For several months the base of operations for the Resistance had been an old Rebellion battle cruiser while they searched for a new base. Living on a cruiser was nothing new to Poe--he’d spent plenty of time on them when he was with the Republic Navy. You on the other hand, you were not used to living in space and it was sparking an increase in your anxiety attacks.

Simply put--there was no time for Poe to face his own demons.

“Commander Dameron?” his commlink chirped.

Cursing, Poe shifted trying not to wake you and snatched the comm up. “Yeah?” he whispered, anxiously as he saw you stirring. Please go back to sleep--you haven’t slept well in weeks, he thought, waiting for the bridge to answer him. To his relief, you fell back to sleep.

“General Organa needs you on the bridge, sir.”

Sighing, Poe rubbed a hand over his face and confirmed that he was on his way. He managed to sneak out of the bunk, get his boots on, without disturbing you--however, BB-8 wasn’t as easily fooled. He instantly woke up from his charging state when he detected movement.

Poe hushed him as they hurried out of the tight quarters. When the droid questioned why he was attempting to sneak away, the pilot confessed, “I didn’t want to wake Y/N.”

BB-8 whistled, sadly. Even he had noticed your mood change since Crait. Poe normally would assure the droid that you were going to be fine but the pilot wasn’t sure any of them were going to be fine after what they’d just endured. He might only be a droid--but he was very much aware the nightmares that both you and Poe were having. He just wished he knew how to help.

Moving through the silent, tight corridors of the cruiser, Poe made it to the bridge. There was only a skeleton crew working so it was unnervingly quiet. Poe had never been one to actually enjoy silence.

“Commander,” Leia called him over.

“What’s going on, General?” Poe asked, approaching her.

“We might have found a decent location for our new base.”

“That’s good news. Things are cramped around here.”

Leia looked at him seriously. “Poe, I need Black Squadron to go scope it out, make sure it will work for us.”

Poe swallowed, anxiously. This meant he would have to leave you for a few days, maybe several. He felt uneasy leaving you behind, especially since your panic attacks had increased. “Is it possible for Black Squadron to go without me?”

“You can’t hover over her forever, Poe.”

“I...I know...it’s just...the panic attacks have gotten real bad.”

The General sighed and nodded in understanding. She had noticed--and felt--that your panic attacks were getting worse. However, Leia needed Poe--the Resistance needed Poe. The young pilot might not realize it yet, but. she needed him to be the leader she knew he could be. “Poe,” she said, softly, “she’ll be fine.”

He glanced away from Leia, briefly, and when Poe looked back at her, she could see the conflict in his eyes. “I know she will be. I just feel...guilty... leaving her to deal with it on her own.”

Leia smiled, sadly. “Poe, how do you think she handled it before you came along? She dealt with it on her own. She has other friends here that can help her if she needs it. I need you right now, Poe. Can I count on you?”

Poe pursed his lips and ran a hand through his unruly curls. “Yes ma’am,” he replied, hoarsely.

“You leave in the morning. Go get some rest.”

“Yes ma’am.”

If the older woman was concerned by Poe’s lack of conversation, she didn’t show it on her face as he turned to go. She wanted to tell him that everything was going to work out in the end and take all his worries away--but the truth was, she couldn’t.

Poe, with BB-8 right behind him, headed back towards his small quarters knowing what was unspoken between himself and Leia. Truth was, Poe wasn’t sure even if she had said the words if he would have believed her.

BB-8 whistled, moanful. Poe didn’t even have the strength to reach down and give the little droid some comforting head scratches. He went straight back to the bunk, finding you still fast asleep, and he pulled you into his arms.

You stirred, eyes opening to gaze up at him. “Everything okay?” you murmured, sleepily.

No. “Fine,” he lied, as if he wasn’t worried about his next mission. “The General wants Black Squadron to go scope out a spot for a potential base in the morning.”

“That’s good, right?” you asked, snuggling closer to him.

“Yeah. Means we can get off this cruiser,” he responded.

“Good; I’m ready to leave here. I’ll miss you.”

“I’m gonna leave Bee with you.”

Shifting slightly, you gave him a puzzled look. “Why? Don’t you need him for your mission?”

Poe sighed and kissed the tip of your nose. “It’s just a scouting mission; I can take another droid.”

BB-8 beeped indigently. Even on simple scouting missions Poe and Black Squadron got into trouble.

“He’s not wrong you know,” you said, laughing softly.

“I would just feel better if he stayed with you,” the pilot argued.

“Does this have to do with my panic attacks?”

“Yes.”

“Poe, I’ll be fine. You’ve left me behind before--without Bee staying.”

Lazily his fingers slipped through your hair. It was true that he’d left you behind before, without leaving BB-8, he would just feel better this time if his droid stayed with you. “I just want to make sure you’re comfortable.”

It wasn’t that you didn’t appreciate the gesture--you just felt better when BB-8 went with him, as if Poe was somehow safer if the little droid was on the mission. “I’ll be okay,” you assured him. “Rey and Finn will be here with me.”

Poe didn’t feel any less guilty; Rey and Finn didn’t know how to calm you. I suppose she could make the argument that neither does Bee. He nuzzled his nose against your hair. “Are you sure you don’t want me to leave BeeBee?”

“Yes, I’m sure. He should go with you.”

“Hopefully I’m not gone too long.”

“Well,” you said, drifting off back to sleep, “with any luck we’ll have a new base when you return.”

“Yeah,” he agreed, wishing he could fall back to sleep with you, “with any luck.”

-----

When you woke up the next morning you were not surprised to see that Poe was gone--and that he indeed left BB-8 behind. You had expected him to do that, even if you had told him not too. The little droid wasn’t too thrilled about being left behind, but it had been Poe’s orders, so he stayed.

It turned out incredibly helpful to have BB-8 around since you were busy fixing up some fighters the Resistance had recently come into possession of. You had to admit it was nice having the company--even though Rey, Rose, and Finn were all still on the cruiser, they all had their own work to complete and you very rarely saw them during the day.

Your panic attacks were held at bay while you were busy working and chatting with BB-8, it was at night, when you were laying in the bunk alone without Poe that the attacks reared their ugly head.

“I...I’m fine,” you told BB-8 two nights after Poe left. “Just...just a bad dream.”

BB-8 didn’t sound like he was convinced as he watched you desperately try to catch your breath. He offered to go find Rey or Finn.

Shaking your head, you felt yourself beginning to calm down slightly as you worked your way through the breathing exercises that Poe would normally walk you through. “No. It’s...it’s late...I don’t want to...I don’t want to wake them.”

The small droid moaned and rolled closer to the bunk. You smiled at the simple gesture of comfort and almost instantly the panic passed. Maybe Poe leaving BB-8 with you had been a good idea after all. You reached down and gently pat the droid on his domed head. “Thanks Bee,” you whispered, laying back down and snuggling underneath the blankets. They smelled faintly like Poe which comforted you even more.

You had just started to fall back to sleep when you felt the bed shift. Opening your eyes, you saw that BB-8 had somehow climbed onto the bed and was reseting at your feet. Smiling, you hugged your pillow and fell asleep.

#star wars #star wars imagine #poe dameron #poe dameron imagine #poe dameron x reader #perhaps it's fate #my writing

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engie-ivy · 3 years

Text

Remus Lupin is very young when he joins the Order of the Phoenix to fight in the war. Young, but not naive. He knows that war isn't an exciting adventure with heroic battles, but pain, loss and grief. He has known this ever since his boyfriend was killed by Death Eaters when he was just seventeen years old. It only makes him more determined to fight.

And maybe the things we lose really do have a way of coming back to us in the end.

Wolfstar angst, but with a sappy, happy ending!

Moody doesn’t look up from his paper, and answers in the most casual manner. “Do you remember Sirius Black?”

Do you remember Sirius Black. Remus has only ever talked about it with James, as James understood. Not the black hole that Remus’ future had become, but at least the loss, grief and guilt. Apart from that, and some worried enquiries from professor McGonagall from time to time, his friends have been extremely careful not to even mention his name around Remus. Remus had always thought that was rather exaggerated and unnecessary, but now, hearing his name so suddenly, so casually mentioned, he thinks they may have had a point after all. He feels like he’s been punched in the gut.

Always meant to come back

The young man, almost a boy really, barely twenty years old, blinks his eyes open. He squints against the bright light in the room, and tries to sit up, but winches in pain and falls back on the bed.

“Don’t strain yourself,” Alastor warns. “We’ve had a Healer patch you up as good as possible, but your body has taken quite a hit, with all those hexes and curses thrown at you.”

“What...” the young man begins to ask.

“You’ll be fine,” Alastor ensures him. “You’re just going to have to take a lot of rest, at least until your wounds have healed. Especially the cuts on your back, probably from a Lashing Hex, may be dangerous if they’ll start bleeding again.”

The young man looks at him for a moment, pale, weary-eyed, with a deep cut on his cheek. “You’re not a Death Eater,” he states.

Alastor laughs shortly. “No, rather the opposite I’d say.”

The young man just looks at him questioningly.

“I’m an Auror,” Alastor clarifies. “Head of the Auror’s office at the Ministry.”

“That can’t be.” The young man shakes his head. “That would mean...”

“You’re safe,” Alastor says.

The young man lets his head fall back on the pillow and closes his eyes, releasing a shaky breath.

After a short silence, Alastor finally asks the question that’s been at the forefront of his mind ever since finding the young man. “You’re Sirius Black, aren’t you?”

The young man opens his eyes again. “Yeah,” he replies.

“Everyone thinks you’ve been dead for at least two years.”

Alastor remembers the story. It was one of the first tragedies of the war. The disowned heir of the house of Black, only seventeen years old at the time, not even graduated from Hogwarts yet, murdered by a group of Death Eaters. The Black family was already high on the list of persons of interest, due to them advocating for blood supremacy and openly supporting He Who Must Not Be Named’s regime. Their eldest son, however, who had already been known as the first Black to not be sorted in Slytherin house, had fallen out with his family and hadn’t been living with them for over a year at the time of the murder. Or, well, alleged murder.

“Two years?” Sirius mumbles. “I don’t know whether it seems like yesterday that I was still living my old life, or whether being at school actually feels like a lifetime ago. Maybe both.”

“What I gathered from the story at the time,” Alastor continues. “Was that a group of students from Slytherin house had purposely leaked information to you that your younger brother was to be sworn in as a Death Eater, and without properly thinking it through, you left to try and stop him and get him away from that evil alignment.”

“I did,” Sirius simply replies.

“That was an idiotic plan,” Alastor says. “Going on your own to a place you knew would be infested with Death Eaters, to save someone you didn’t even know wanted to be saved.”

Sirius huffs a laugh. “You sound just like Moony when he was telling me not to go.”

Alastor doesn’t know what a Moony is, so he just continues. “You never came back. They caught you, or maybe it had all been a trap to begin with, as the Slytherins who spilled the information later all became Death Eaters, and maybe some of them had even already joined at the time. Either way, the word spread that you had been killed by the Death Eaters.”

Hogwarts had been in shock, Alastor remembers. Not only did the death of a schoolmate make the war suddenly seem so much more real, Sirius Black had been bright, promising, loved. It had been a blow to almost the entire school to lose him.

“That’s what happened. Well,” Sirius gestures vaguely at himself. “Except for the being killed part, obviously.”

“Why didn’t they kill you?”

“My irresistible charm?” Sirius attempts with a weak smile. “No,” he then sighs with a pained look in his eyes. “It was my little brother. He said he’d only join their cause if they agreed to let me live. Most of the Death Eaters just wanted to kill us both then, not deeming him very important anyway, but my parents didn’t have a second spare heir ready, so they couldn’t afford to lose another son. They convinced them to imprison me instead of kill me.” He lets out a bitter laugh. “That’s the only time the power and influence of ‘The Most Ancient and Noble House of Black’ did me any good. Although I have often wished they had just killed me. Some of them ignored me, others liked to taunt me, and a few immensely enjoyed hurting me.”

Alastor feels a rare surge of empathy. It was a cruel fate indeed, to be locked up for so long under those conditions, and he had only been seventeen, barely more than a child.

“So how did I end up here?” Sirius asks.

“We placed a Tracing Charm on Goyle, and noticed he was regularly visiting a manor in the countryside, on paper owned by the Rosier family. This made us believe it to be an enemy headquarters, so we planned a raid. We disconnected the house from the Floo Network and placed an anti-apparition charm over the whole premises, before we invaded the place. Unfortunately, the ones present were in possession of illegal Portkeys, I still have to ask Mundungus Fletcher how they could’ve gotten those, and managed to get away. Upon searching the house, though, we found you locked in one of the rooms, severely injured and barely conscious.”

“Of the people I knew, is anyone... Do you know if anyone has been...?”

“I wouldn’t think so,” Alastor answers. “To my knowledge, no one from your year at Hogwarts has been killed. I don’t think that there’s anyone you may have known among the victims.”

Sirius lets out a relieved breath. “I didn’t think there was either, as the Death Eaters would have jumped at the opportunity to rub it in my face had they hurt someone I knew, but still.”

“Of course, I don’t know about your brother,” Alastor adds. “As he’s not on our side.”

A flash of pain shows on Sirius’ face for a brief moment, but he quickly composes himself. “I’m sure Regulus is okay,” he mumbles. “If he’d been gone, I would’ve been dead.”

“The Ministry is doing a shite job fighting this war!” Sirius throws down the Daily Prophet on his bed. “Half of the people in this photo is either a traitor or under the Imperius Curse!”

Alastor glances down at the paper. On the front page is an article about Barty Crouch, head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, and his plan to fight violence with violence and legalise the Unforgivable Curses. The article is accompanied by several photos: Barty Crouch and his family, some other high-placed Ministry officials such as Augustus Rockwood and Walden McNair, and the heads of the influential Mulciber and Malfoy families, who are often thought to influence, or bribe, the Ministry.

Sirius is getting better, and he’s already proven his worth by passing all the valuable information he managed to pick up during his imprisonment on to Alastor.

“And the measures that they’ve been taking are hardly going to be sufficient to win this war,” Sirius adds.

“Well,” Alastor replies calmly. “Considering how corrupt the Ministry is, it’s a good thing they’re not taking more measures.”

“How can you care so little? You’re part of the Ministry, and forced to fight a losing battle.”

“That would be concerning indeed, if it was really the Ministry fighting this battle.”

Sirius raises an eyebrow, prompting Alastor to continue.

“There’s another group that forms the real opposition to He Who Must Not Be Named. A secret order of witches and wizards personally recruited by Dumbledore himself, fighting the Death Eaters behind the scenes.”

“I want to join,” Sirius immediately says.

“What you’ve been true is enough to traumatize someone for a lifetime,” Alastor says. “Are you sure you want to engage yourself even further with this war?”

“Bollocks,” Sirius replies. “I still have great magical skills and abilities, I was the best dueller at Hogwarts and I know better than anyone how these Death Eaters think and operate. You need me. You want me. You don’t give a crap about my emotional state, or you wouldn’t even have mentioned it.”

Alastor supresses a smile. Sirius is right. Alastor is eager to get him on board, but he felt like he had to at least symbolically offer him a way out, never expecting Sirius to actually take it. Truth is, his only goal is to win this war, by whatever means possible, and he doesn’t have it in him to care about an individual’s mental health.

“Very well then. Come to think of it, you might even see some familiar faces.”

“Lily, you look so...”

“Remus Lupin, if your next sentence contains the word ‘big’ or ‘huge’, then in Merlin’s name, I will hex you.”

“Eh... radiant?”

A very pregnant Lily rolls her eyes as she sits on the couch across from Remus. “I’m a bloody whale, I’m completely bloated and I feel like I’m just peeing all day.”

“Isn’t she just glowing?” James appears at Remus’ side, staring at Lily like she’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen, which she probably is.

Remus chuckles. “You’re a very lucky man, Prongs.”

James sits down next to his wife, and Peter sits down next to Remus, while they all wait for the Order meeting to begin. The Prewetts arrive shortly after, and Marlene and Dorcas rush over to Lily to ask her a thousand questions on how she’s feeling. James just stares with an adoring, fond look, while Lily describes in detail how all her bodily functions have changed now she’s so very pregnant.

“Ah, to be young and in love,” Peter says.

Remus tries not to show any change in expression, but he can’t help his smile slightly faltering.

Unfortunately, Peter notices. “I mean, of course you know... I didn’t mean to...”

“It’s fine,” Remus says curtly. “Don’t worry about it.” His time of being young and in love is over. Yet, he doesn’t resent James for his happiness, just because his was taken away from him. After all, he knows that for James as well, not a day goes by on which he doesn’t miss him.

Professor McGonagall walks over to Lily to ask her about her due date, and Lily happily informs her that the baby is expected to be born this summer.

“From this September on, you’ll have eleven more years to prepare for Gryffindor’s next trouble maker!” James says.

“James Potter,” Lily scolds. “We agreed to not pressure this child about which house he should sorted into. That already goes into effect before he’s born.”

“Honestly professor,” James whispers too loud to professor McGonagall. “I already love this kid so bloody much. I wouldn’t even mind if he’ll end up in Slytherin!”

McGonagall chuckles. “You know, James, you really don’t have to call me professor anymore.”

James looks absolutely horrified at the idea.

Remus is glad they still see professor McGonagall so often. He doesn’t think he would’ve been able to make it through his last year at Hogwarts without her.

He’s always happy to see her, even though each time it reminds him of that one conversation. At first, he had been angry at him that he had gone anyway, and angry at himself for not realizing that of course he’d go anyway. Then, there had only been the anxious waiting for him to come back, until McGonagall had called Remus, James and Peter into her office and with more distress than he had ever seen her in, told them that he was not going to come back.

James had immediately started crying. Heart-wrenching sobs that went through the bone for the loss of his closest companion, his best friend, his brother. Remus had felt... nothing. It was like he heard the words, understood what the words meant, but did not comprehend what the words implied.

He hadn’t just lost someone he could talk to, someone he could trust, someone he could hold on to. He had lost a small home somewhere on the countryside just outside of London, with large fireplace in the living room and a small shed outside for the motorcycle. He had lost a large garden with an aviary for the owls and enough space for the dogs to run around. He had lost taking time off from working as a teacher and a Healer to spend a few weeks by the coast each summer. He had lost summer evenings in the garden, inviting friends over for a barbecue, a small Quidditch field in the backyard, little children running around. He had lost a future he never thought he could actually have, but had set his heart on anyway.

It took a week. A week of feeling nothing. A week of seeing the worried stares and hearing the constant whispers from his schoolmates. A week before the pain and grief hit him at full force.

He’s pulled from his thoughts by Marlene’s voice. “Remember, when Moody gets here, don’t mention the Rosier manor-raid.”

Peter rolls his eyes. “Yes, McKinnon. I don’t have a death wish.”

Remus shakes his head. “I can’t even imagine how pissed he must be about it. All that planning, just for each and every Death Eater to get away.”

“He’s gonna be livid,” Marlene agrees. “This is not gonna be a happy meeting.”

“I was so disappointed when I heard it,” Lily sighs. “It felt like we finally had something on them, and now we have to start all over.”

Remus wonders what kind of missions they’re going to assign people to this time. Lily has scolded him before for always volunteering for the most dangerous ones, but to Remus it seems perfectly logical. If he goes, his friends don’t have to go, and he has the least to live for anyway. He said as much one time. James had cried and Lily had yelled at him, so he doesn’t say it anymore. At least not out loud.

It isn’t long before Moody enters the room, looking as battered and grizzled as ever, and commands the meeting to begin. Everyone immediately gathers around the table, as no one, except Dumbledore and McGonagall when it’s absolutely necessary, dares to oppose Alastor Moody.

“Right. We have much to discuss,” Moody says in his growling voice. “First point of order, I’ve gotten confirmation regarding our suspicions about Mulciber, and we should from now on assume that each person working in his vicinity is under the influence of the Imperius Curse and cannot be trusted. Moreover, I received intelligence that Augustus Rockwood, Walden McNair and Barty Crouch Jr. are traitors.”

Everyone sucks in a breath of surprise and disbelief.

“Mr. Crouch’s own son?” McGonagall asks. “An accusation like that can put us in a lot of trouble. Where did you get this kind of intelligence, Alastor?”

“I obtained it from the Rosier manor-raid,” Moody replies, and another wave of surprise goes around the table. No one had expected Moody to bring up the failed attempt himself.

Remus frowns. He has never underestimated the enemy and he knows the Death Eaters aren’t stupid enough to leave a list of names of everyone who’s secretly a traitor. And if they did, it can only be a trap, but Moody must know that better than anyone.

“How?” McGonagall asks, apparently on the same train of thought.

Moody doesn’t look up from his paper, and answers in the most casual manner. “Do you remember Sirius Black?”

Do you remember Sirius Black? Do you remember Sirius Black? Do you remember Sirius Black. Remus has only ever talked about it with James, as James understood. Not the black hole that Remus’ future had become, but at least the loss, grief and guilt. Apart from that, and some worried enquiries from professor McGonagall from time to time, his friends have been extremely careful not to even mention his name around Remus. Remus had always thought that was rather exaggerated and unnecessary, but now, hearing his name so suddenly, so casually mentioned, he thinks they may have had a point after all. He feels like he’s been punched in the gut.

James has gotten pale as a sheet and Lily has automatically grabbed his hand, while Peter is throwing worried glances in Remus’ direction. Professor McGonagall has her lips pressed tightly together, and is looking at Moody with a look that clearly says ‘you better have a very good reason for this’.

Moody, completely oblivious to the sudden tension in the room, just keeps talking. If his previous words had been shocking, it’s nothing compared to the effect his next words produce. “You must have heard of it, I believe some of you were at Hogwarts when the whole ordeal took place. As it turns out, he was actually held captive by the Death Eaters. We found him locked up in the Rosier manor in quite a state, but we managed to patch him up, and he was able to give us quite some valuable information.”

Remus hears the words, but can’t process their meaning. He just stares, waiting for Moody to say ‘just kidding’ or wake up from this dream. Nothing happens for a long moment, until Marlene breaks the silence. “But everyone gave the same account... They all said... How?”

Moody makes a dismissive gesture. “There was some family drama involved I believe. But he can tell you himself in due time. He has agreed to join the Order, actually.”

“You’re lying.” Moody finally looks up at hearing James’ angry tone. “I don’t believe you. You’re lying.”

“Calm down, Potter,” Moody replies. “We can talk about it after the meeting, if we must.”

Remus only realises he has stood up when he notices everyone looking at him. He gives Moody a steely look. “Let me see him.”

“Lupin, we’re in the middle of a meeting. We still have much to discuss.”

“I don’t give a fuck about your damned meeting!” Remus shouts. “Let. Me. See. Him.”

Moody regards him for a moment, and then nods.

Maybe Moody is tricking them as a test. Maybe Moody is delusional and there’s no one there. Maybe someone has tricked Moody and is leading them into a trap. Maybe Moody is under the influence of the Imperius Curse himself and is leading them into a trap. Remus goes over every option in is head as he, James and Lily use the Floo network to go Moody’s safe house. Every option except one. The one he doesn’t allow himself to even think of.

He realises that many option would put them in immediate danger, but he only cares for James and Lily’s sake. If this really is a cruel trick, it’d almost be a relief to be killed right after. Even without allowing himself to hope, he couldn’t handle the disappointment.

But they step into the room, and there he is.

In the living room, fast asleep on the couch, covered by a thin blanket. One hand dangling over the edge of the couch, the other on his stomach, his chest softly going up and down in time with his breathing.

He’s less muscular and a lot thinner than before. His face looks very pale in sharp contrast with his dark, now very long, hair, with a healing cut on his cheek and a receding bruise under his eye.

But it’s him, unmistakably him.

Odd enough, the first thought that occurs to Remus is that he has always wanted Sirius to grow his hair out and that he hopes he doesn’t cut it too soon. At this moment, he seems unable to form any other coherent thought.

Suddenly, he feels James’ hand on his shoulder, gently pushing him forward. “Go to him.”

Remus stumbles forward. He falls down on his knees next to the couch in front of Sirius’ face. He reaches out a trembling hand and touches Sirius’ cheek.

Sirius’ eyes, those eyes nothing can compare to, fly open. Startled, Sirius sits up with a bewildered look. He first sees James and Lily standing there, looking at him.

“Prongs? Evans?”

Then he turns his head towards Remus, and his eyes, filled with emotion, widen.

“Moony?” His voice slightly breaks.

“Hi,” Remus whispers.

Sirius reaches out and gently strokes his thumb over Remus’ cheek. Remus only now realises that there are tears streaming down his face. They stare at each other for a breathless moment. Then, at the same time, they move and wrap each other in an impossibly tight embrace, both whispering unnecessary apologies, as neither thinks there’s anything to forgive the other for.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry for being a stubborn arse, I’m sorry I didn’t listen. I’m so sorry. I’m sorry I didn’t even say goodbye. I’m sorry I didn’t come back. I meant to come back. I always meant to come back.”

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there, I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you. I’m sorry. I’m sorry I didn’t come and get you. I’m sorry I never came to bring you home. I gave up on you, and I’m so, so sorry.”

Eventually, James can’t hold back anymore and he flies forward to embrace is brother, and upon seeing him desperately crying, Sirius starts to cry as well.

When he’s more composed, James starts asking Sirius a hundred questions to check if it’s really him. Sirius effectively shuts him up by informing Lily that James stole one of her T-shirts in fifth year and slept with it in his bed for two years.

“I hate you so much, Padfoot! And I missed you more than you’ll ever know, and don’t you ever leave me again!”

This exchange is followed by Sirius going on for ten minutes: “Evans, you’re pregnant. You’re pregnant with a child. Prongs’ child. Evans, you’re pregnant with Prongs’ child. You’re having a baby. Prongs is having a baby. You and Prongs are having a baby. Together. You let Prongs get you pregnant.”

All the while, Remus is still sitting on the ground next to him, their hands firmly clasped together.

Eventually, they have to go back to the Order meeting, and of course want to inform the others. Peter will be ecstatic and professor McGonagall might cry. Lily kisses Sirius on his cheek and James hugs him again, after letting him promise five times that he’ll still be there tomorrow and he’s not going to disappear again.

“You know, Moony, if you want to go to the Order meeting, you’ll have to let go of my hand,” Sirius says with a small smile, without making any attempt of releasing his grip himself.

Remus smiles back. “No, I’m never letting you go again.”

#my tumblr writing #wolfstar #wolfstar fanfiction #wolfstar fic #marauders #marauders fanfiction #marauders fic #sirius black #remus lupin #remus x sirius #james potter #lily evans #jily #alastor moody #first wizarding war #hurt sirius black #james potter is a good friend #wolfstar angst

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ransomedrogue · 3 years

Text

Tales of Woe - Scenes from S1

ah yessss, the “running around in the forest worrying about each other” one! so much to love about this episode...

1.7

It was further to the rendezvous point than he had anticipated and Weller's heart was pounding from both the brisk pace they were keeping, as well as the unnerving silence around them. In hindsight, he definitely should have taken Jane with him on the tracker ditching mission. He hated not knowing where she was and, in the end, leaving her with Guerrero and Reade hadn't been any safer.

Weller glanced at Zapata as she kept watch on their backs, remembering what she'd said to him earlier. Really, she was just the latest in a long line of people questioning his objectivity, or at least commenting on it. And, considering the way his chest felt from inadvertently putting Jane in more danger, they were all clearly correct.

The thing was, he fully knew that Zapata's point was well-made. If he was going to try and shelter Jane, then it affected the rest of the team. More problematically at the moment though, he hadn't even done a very good job of protecting her. Once the militia had seen them without Guerrero, they'd taken off as if they knew where to go next. So Jane and Reade were probably in the worst position, despite all his efforts to keep her safe.

Tasha caught up to him just as they began to hear the sound of gunfire. They looked at each other in concern and both started running towards the battle, no longer trying to keep their movements hidden.

Weller pushed his legs and lungs as hard as he could, sweat matting his shirt to his back and making his grip on his weapon slick. His longer stride and near panic made it difficult for Zapata to keep up and Weller had to force himself to slow down to let her catch up as they approached the shooting.

From where he was standing, he had a good view of the ranger station that was clearly where they were meant to meet Jane and Reade. The problem was that the militia had the place completely surrounded and was firing at it from all angles with automated weaponry. There was no way that anyone in the station was going to survive that onslaught for long.

As Tasha made her way up to him her eyes were wide with dismay, taking in the scene. He could tell she was worried for Reade, her partner since they'd become field agents. And of course Weller was concerned for his agent as well as their prisoner. But the fear that arose at the thought of Jane being gunned down in there made it feel like there was something jammed in his throat and he couldn't breathe.

Moving together now, Weller and Zapata approached the scene, concealing their presence as best they could. Kurt's pulse was hammering in his ears as he prayed for a sign that Jane and Reade were alive in there. It seemed like some shots were being fired out of the building but they were too far away to be sure.

They needed to get close enough to take out the machine gun operators so Reade and Jane had a chance to survive being pinned down inside. But there were still too many yards to cover and it seemed impossible that they were going to make it before everyone in there was dead.

It was then that he got his sign, a sudden movement from the ranger station. But when Weller realized that it was Jane running a flight to take out the heavy weaponry, his heart rate shot straight to full blown panic.

What the hell was she thinking?

There were far too many militia members for her to take out on her own. If he and Zapata weren't coming right then to help, it would be a suicide mission.

They'd been separated for long enough that Reade had to be questioning if they were coming at all. It was a very real possibility he would have had to consider and discuss with Jane - that there wasn't any backup coming.

So either Jane had a lot of faith in him or she didn't value her life enough.

Because there was no other explanation for why she would be out engaging the shooters so directly. And just watching her do it was nearly unbearable until Weller saw her take out one of the gunmen and everything snapped back into focus.

They finally got close enough to track one of the militiamen, who seemed to have a target in his sights. Weller realized that he hadn't seen Jane for awhile and had a bad feeling in his spine. He could picture the situation in his mind. Jane was pinned down somewhere, possibly reloading her weapon after taking out the other gunman that had been unleashing hellfire at the station.

Weller started running at full tilt, desperate to get there in time. The militiaman was steadily advancing and shooting as he kept stepping towards Jane. So it was hard to get close enough to take a shot at the guy.

In the end, Kurt fired the kill shot just as the man was about to round the corner on Jane and gun her down. It was a close thing; they'd only gotten there in the nick of time. His heart still pounded with fear and adrenaline, even as relief flooded through him at seeing her there alive.

Jane flashed them a smile as they came up to her, her own relief at seeing them clear in her expression. He wondered again how confident she'd been in their eventual arrival when she had decided to go out on her solo run.

Weller gave Jane a thorough once over with his eyes to assure himself that she wasn't visibly wounded, before bringing his gaze back up to meet hers.

"You okay?" he asked, as nonchalantly as he could manage with fear still tickling his throat.

"Yeah," Jane replied, just as simply, though he could feel the emotion exuding from her.

"You?"

Weller swallowed, fighting off an eddy of emotion that nearly came spilling out.

Now that she was there in front of him, alive and relatively safe, he was more than okay. Even though they were stuck in enemy territory with a high value prisoner, possibly with more militiamen coming.

But of course he couldn't say any of that and would likely choke on his words even if he tried.

So Kurt replied with a nod, wondering if she understood.

He was okay because she was okay. And he was going to do everything he could to make sure things stayed that way.

###

The plane shook a little and Jane was suddenly thrown out of her thoughts and back into her present situation of flying back to New York on the FBI jet.

A ripple of fear passed through her and Jane shuddered a little, both at the shaking of the plane, as well as what she'd just been ruminating about.

Weller. Of course.

She had been looking at him sitting across from her at the table, overflowing with thankfulness that he was right there in front of her. All the arguing they'd recently done, all that boundary setting; it seemed like ancient history with what had happened that day.

When Guerrero had taunted her by saying Kurt was dead and Reade had followed up by questioning if Weller and Zapata were coming, it had spiked a fear in her that still hadn't quite dissipated. That terrible thought, of having to go on without him, remained clenched in her throat, especially since he'd so recently offered to recuse himself from her case.

Even then, after a long day of being at odds with him, she'd hated the idea of it. Now, after facing the possibility of really losing him, it filled her with panic.

Again Jane's mind flashed to telling him that she wanted space, then him choosing to take Zapata with him that day. Not that she thought the two things were related. But it made her worried that she hadn't made it clear to Weller that she needed him there with her. Through everything.

And then, for an extended period of time that day, she'd thought there might never be another chance to tell him. So Jane knew she should say it right then and make sure he understood how she felt.

"When we were separated in the woods," she said, searching for the words to express her sentiments.

"I kept thinking about you. And me. And Taylor Shaw. We're in this together."

Of course, right then she was interrupted by the plane shaking again, more violently this time. Jane's heart rate immediately shot through the roof and she grabbed at the table, just to have something to hold onto.

She was still trembling due to the turbulence when she glanced over and Weller was looking at her intently, with an unreadable smile on his face. Then he leaned forward and grasped her hands in his bigger ones, his grip both solid and gentle at the same time.

"How can you fly a chopper out of a combat zone and still be scared of a little turbulence?" he asked, his expression somewhere between proud and bewildered.

Jane had been asking herself the same thing, ever since they got back on the plane after she landed the helicopter at the airfield. Because her fear had not gone away, even after learning that she could fly something much more complicated than a private jet.

"I think it's got something to do with being in control," she replied, a bit sheepishly.

Weller nodded, like he wasn't exactly convinced by her response. But more importantly, he didn't let go, even after the bumpiness was long over. Which settled her nerves just as unreasonably as the turbulence affected them.

Eventually, Kurt had been holding her hands and eyeing her for so long that Jane began to feel heat growing on the back of her neck. She briefly wondered if he was judging her for her fear when he gave her fingers another reassuring squeeze.

"You're right," he said, making her wonder what she could possibly be right about. Certainly not her irrational feelings about aviation.

"You and me, we're in this together. For as long as that's what you want."

She'd somehow managed to forget about that. Telling him about her worry for him; opening up to him again. But warmth flushed over her knowing that he hadn't just brushed it off.

Weller paused for a long moment, his thumb worrying a pattern into her skin.

"When you ran your flight outside the ranger station. How did you know we would come in time?"

She hadn't of course. They'd already been longer than anticipated and even Reade had suggested that they might never show up. But Weller should already know all of that, so his question was really about something different.

Jane was quiet for so long that he continued without her answering first.

"You were outmanned and outgunned," he grumbled. "That was a suicide run unless we showed up when we did."

"It was no riskier than than staying inside and waiting for them to close in," she retorted.

"Even if I could only hold them off until you and Zapata came, then I was giving Reade a chance to get out with Guerrero."

"Jane," Weller grumbled, shaking his head at her, his expression both angry and concerned.

"I saw how close that guy was."

"I would have reloaded in time."

"Jane."

"He tried to tell me you were dead. But I knew you'd come."

Her voice cracked a tiny bit, remembering how it had felt seeing him again. And it was the croak in her words that made his face change, all the sternness suddenly seeping away as he looked at her too honestly.

"Oh. And in case it comes up. I hit him."

Weller furrowed his brow at her sudden confession, but she could see that he was holding back a grin, probably because he'd figured out why she hit Guerrero.

"Reade said he'd cover for me but I don't want him to have to lie," she said, still feeling the need to explain herself more.

But Kurt didn't ask her anything else about it, just gave her hands another solid squeeze as he finally let his smile pop through.

"Don't worry about it Jane," he said with an affectionate laugh.

"I've got you."

#blindspot #blindspot fanfic #blindspot rewatch #s1fic #i wrote this

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sherrybaby14 · 4 years

Text

Welcome Home

Summary: You couldn’t take your controlling boyfriend, so you ran away. He found you and hopes to change your mind, with the help of some friends.

Warnings: Smut, lost and found, very brief suicidal thought, I would not label this dub-con, but some might. (I have not warned for every possible trigger. Please read at your own risk).

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader

Words: 4200

A/N: This is for @darkficsyouneveraskedfor challenge! My prompt was “Safe in Hell”.

“There’s a real hottie in your section.” Your coworker reached above you for the coffee pot. “If he asks for your number you should give it to him.”

Your nerves went off. Was this the day? Did he find you? You shook them down, trying to act normal.

“Right.” You were trying to balance the tray of drinks for the rare family of four who walked into the diner. “Because I give it out to all the other truckers who stop in here.”

“Other truckers?” She laughed. “You won’t even give it to me! When are we going to get together for after work drinks?”

Another thing to worry about, people getting too chummy. A sign to leave.

“Soon.” You gave a nervous laugh as you rounded, hoisting the orange juices in the air as you went back into the crowded eating area.

Soon you would be gone. Never stay in a place for longer than three months, never use your real name, cash under the table, save whatever possible. No relationships, no attachments. That was the advice handed to you. It worked well the last eighteen months. Were you getting sloppy? Was the strange man finally him? The tray wobbled, thinking about dropping it and running out the backdoor.

It wasn’t the life you had planned for yourself, but you were more free in your time on the road than you had been the two years before.

You spotted the “hottie” your friend talked about. His back was to you, short dark hair, smaller shoulders, shorter. Any sense of worry you had faded. Wasn’t him.

A lot of the men who stopped in here were good looking. Ninety percent of them drove trucks back and forth across the country. They would forget your face as soon as they left, stomachs filled with greasy food and an insane amount of coffee. He was just another. It was the blondes that worried you.

Nobody questioned your secrecy until just now, most were in the same boat. Part of you was sure one of the cooks was wanted for murder. Your co-workers last names were Smith, Johnson, Washington, Jefferson. A lot of presidents. Made it hard to google Sarah Adams and get any pointed results.

“There we go.” You handed out the orange juice to the road-tripping family. “Gimme a minute and I’ll be back to take your order.”

Your coworker walked by, coffee pot in hand. You handed her the tray and took the hot beverage without even asking. The solo man’s cup was spun upright and you began to fill it when you approached the table.

“Room for cream?” You watched the dark liquid rise.

“I’d prefer a double whipped non-fat late, but I suppose cream will do.” The voice struck a nerve in your cord and you dropped the coffee pot.

Everything was moving in slow motion. You swore you saw the liquid following out, but the guest grabbed the pot in one hand while reaching out with his other and grabbing your wrist.

“Hi there.” He smiled up at you. “Have a seat.”

You were too numb to respond as he dragged your arm, pulling you into the booth behind him. You started to hyperventilate, the noise of the crowd fading as your world started to spin. How was this happening? Was this real?

“Don’t forget to breathe.” Tony let go of your wrist and took a sip of his coffee. “Not bad.”

You couldn’t react. You didn’t know how to.

“Really, I thought this was going to taste like dirt, but there’s something so basic about it, I can’t put my finger on it.” The billionaire took another sip. “Did you make it?”

You grabbed on to the table, a shake in your body as you looked up. Tony’s warm eyes had a hint of sympathy, but he smiled and it vanished. Had you lost your mind?

“Don’t have a lot of time so speak up Princess.” Tony flicked your arm.

A million questions ran through your head, but you spit out the first one. Your main fear.

“Is he….here?” There was a lump in your throat, could you outrun Ironman? Were you insane?

“Don’t ask questions you won’t like the answer to.” Tony’s eyes dropped to the table as he grabbed a packet of sugar.

Escape. You had to escape. All the ways out you had planned in your head didn’t involve a visit from Tony Stark. How was that even possible? They were the good guys. Maybe they didn’t know? Maybe you could reason with his friend, get them to see. Put an end to this madness, get your life back.

“Listen to me.” You grabbed Tony’s hand, not wanting to understand how you were capable of touching him. “He is insane. He is controlling and demanding and you need to help me.”

“I know.” Tony nodded. “Trust me, I know.”

Your shoulders relaxed. Tony knew he was insane.

“When you were in his life, you made him better.” Tony laughed. “SInce you’ve been gone. Well, everyone else has had to deal with that side.”

You recoiled.

“He has saved a lot of lives. He’s a good man.” Tony let out a huge breath.

“HE RUINED MY LIFE!” You slammed the table. “He...he picked out my clothes, he made me quit my job, he nit picked everything I did, he followed me everywhere, he destroyed my friendships, he controlled everything.”

“Did he ever hit you?” Tony ran his hand over his hair.

“What?” You glanced over his face.

“Did he tell you what you could and couldn’t do?” Tony leaned back in the booth. “What was he holding over you? That you couldn’t leave? That you ran away in the middle of the night?”

“I tried to break up with him.” Your lip quivered. “But he sabotaged everything, every job application, apartment, bills. He forced it so he was my only option.”

That was how Steve operated. He didn’t give ultimatums, he didn’t hit you. He just twisted your life so you were dependent on him. A master of emotional manipulation.

“Well, when he had you to look after.” Tony reached down next to him and pulled out some electronic device. “He wasn’t so difficult to deal with, but since you left of your own free will, he has been a bit of a horror.”

“Own free will?” You were seething. “I tried to leave at least ten times! He always found a way to make me come back. We were only together for a year, I realized he was tricking me, messing with my mind. I called it off then, it took me another year of forgiving and coming back before I had to vanish.”

“Vanish?” Tony raised an eyebrow. “Hardly.”

He tapped a button on his device. This place barely got cell service but a screen seemed to appear out of nowhere. Your jaw dropped as you scanned what was in front of you. Pictures, notes, dollar amounts. Every place you’d been the last eighteen months.

“I...I need to get back to work.” You started to stand, planning to sprint out the back and run until you died.

Tony let out a whistle. All noise in the diner stopped. The people got up from their seats, the staff stopped in place. All of them left the building in a neat and practiced order.

“Sit back down.” Tony slid the screen over, but didn’t close it. “Don’t make this difficult.”

“I am leaving.” Your chest was heavy. “You can’t stop me.”

“No, but I can call the police.” Tony scratched his head. “They will be here faster than you can get outside, ready with a pair of handcuffs.”

“I didn’t do anything.” Your legs started to shake.

“In the last year and a half you have committed a staggering amount of crimes.” Tony hit his screen and they changed. “Identity theft, tax evasion, moving stolen property over state lines, not to mention the civil liabilities from the landlords you ran out on.”

“Bullshit!” You hit the table. “I used fake names, I worked under the table, I was trying to hide.”

“Well, there’s an admission to the tax evasion.” Tony crossed his arms and leaned back. “My personal attorneys have studied this and found every little thing you have done wrong. It’s all here. Those fake names, turns out some real people have them.”

You knew how powerful the Avengers were, but you thought the only evil one was Steve. Besides, there was the one other nagging thought.

“How?” Your mind was so focused on Steve, you couldn’t focus on anything else.

“With a good federal prosecutor and several amazing state’s attorneys, you will be bouncing from prison-to-prison for the rest of your life. Would you like to have a seat now?” Tony’s sympathy vanished.

Yes. You thought about life in prison. Could you handle it? Take it? Would it be better than this?

“I promise you it would not.” Tony glared up at you. “Now sit.”

You crumbled back into the booth.

“What does he want?” You knew Tony was just the middle man. “Were any of the people here ever real? Were you just waiting until you had enough on me?”

“Of course we were.” Tony rolled his eyes. “Steve found you a day after you left. He has been trailing you nonstop. I saw the bigger picture. He’d convince you to come back and you would run again. We tempted you with some major crimes by the way, kudos to you for not robbing that guy in Portland. Those were marked bills. Would’ve had you ten months ago.”

“I’m going to be sick.” You leaned over and clutched your stomach, all the precautions you’d been taking, your life. It meant nothing.

“Here’s what he wants.” Tony slammed a little black box on the table. “Not the most romantic proposal, but you know Steve. He doesn’t want any of the dirty stuff on his hands.”

“Oh God.” You clutched your stomach, trying to ignore the sound of Tony opening the box.

“He loves you.” Tony reached over the table and set it on your knee. “He will take care of you. Your life will be better than this.”

“He’s obsessed with me.” You glared at him. “That’s not love!”

“Sure it is.” There was no humor on Tony’s face. “Maybe not your definition. But to him, it’s love.”

“He...he could have anyone, why me?” Your reality began to set in and tears started to fall.

“If I had to guess, your mind.”

“I’m not a genius.” You looked up at him with red shot eyes. “I thought I was free and he, he never left me.”

You thought back to all the good looking single guys in here asking for your number, the way your coworkers were in the same boat as you. It wasn’t dumb luck. It was a controlled experiment.

“You need to ask him these questions.” Tony’s sympathy showed again. “He is waiting for your answer. Take a look at the ring. Put it on your finger, or else except some less-than-pleasant jewelry on your wrists.”

The sound of Tony’s footsteps and the ding of the diner bell made you sob. There was no doubt the building was surrounded. You had a third option, but that wasn’t in the cards for you.

Your life with Steve flashed in your brain. The way he looked at you, the way he sent a tingle down your spine, the way he got you to try new things, and when you didn’t like them he would stop. He was kind, to you, but any life outside of him, that’s when he showed his true colors.

Without opening your eyes you knew what the ring would look like. Large and heavy, a single giant stone that people could see from yards away. Ownership. That was Steve.

Which prison did you want?

You gulped down, and looked at the box. Your heart raced as you brought your hand to your mouth. It was small. It was ugly even, a single pear cut diamond in a bronze band, but your heart filled with warmth.

Different memories came forward, pretending to be a bride with a pillowcase, talking with your father about walking down the aisle, watching your mother cheers at your graduation. The ring on her finger.

“How?” Your parents were dead, a tragic accident, nothing was recovered. It happened a year before you met Steve.

The initial wave of comfort he had brought came over you again. The way he listened, tried to help you.

“Photos.” Nat’s voice made you jerk your head up. “He had it recreated down to exact specifics.”

“It's not hers?” Your heart didn’t sink at the realization, in fact it panged with comfort.

“He’s not a miracle worker.” Nat slid into the booth. “But he tries.”

The strangeness of the last five minutes dawned on you again. You wouldn’t go back, you slammed the ring box shut.

“Please, we were friends. Get Steve to let me go.” You bit back a sob. “Women-to-women, you saw how bad it got and…”

“I saw a devoted man, who might not have chosen a woman who understood all his traits, but awoke something in him.” Nat leaned forward. “He wants you. Only you. I sent a few incredibly good looking guys to hit on you, and you shut them all down. Are you sure you want anyone else?”

“I didn’t...I couldn’t...settle down.” You took a heavy breath. “He could find me if I built a life. I needed to keep moving.”

“He’s always known where you were.” Nat smiled. “Now make the right choice. He’s waiting.”

“Wait, help me?” You looked up at her with glassy eyes as she left the booth.

“I already have.” The sadness on her face was too much, you started to cry again. “We both have.”

You didn’t take your eyes off of her as she left the diner. The door moved in slow motion, slammed shut.

You tried to bite back the scream, but it came out. The vision faded, the diner was filled again. Ghosts vanished.

The tray of orange juice hit the ground with a smash and a spill. Everyone in the diner turned to stare at you. Including the “hottie” your coworker warned you about.

Tall, blonde, beautiful, controlling, manipulative, but also protective, caring, pushing, and instead of crying and running away you burst out into tears and ran toward him. Not registering that everyone in the diner was watching.

“I...I missed you so much.” Steve scooped you up in his arms. “I was wrong. I was wrong on so many levels, after we lost Tony and Natasha, I couldn’t lose you. And I shouldn’t have tried to keep you the way I did.”

You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him in for a kiss. Warmth, home, everything negative flushed away.

“Hey, you gonna clean this up?” Your coworker held the coffee pot, looking pissed off.

You looked back at Steve, who was just as stunned from the kiss as the rest of the restaurant was from the sound of you dropping your tray.

“I’ll change. I miss you so much.” Steve wrapped his arms around your waist. “I’ve been changing. Working on myself. I can’t believe I pushed you that hard. I wanted to keep you safe.”

“I’m safe when I am with you.” There was a fullness in your heart, one you didn’t realize you were missing. “I didn’t do anything bad.”

“What?” Steve laughed. “You? This was not the conversation I was expecting. The night you left, I just, I realized my trying to protect you was overriding everything else. My trauma was creating trauma for you. I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you, if you let me.”

“Please?” You didn’t wait for a response when you put your lips to his.

Steve let out a grunt and held you tighter, your bodies pressed together as hard as they could be, your mouth devouring each other in the middle of the restaurant.

He pulled away first, slowing down the kiss until he could press his forehead to yours.

“Let’s get out of here.” His gaze made your heart feel like it was going to beat out of your chest.

You nodded and undid the tie on your apron, throwing it on the table along with the orders and cash you’d received on your shift so far.

Everyone’s eyes were on you as Steve took your hand and led you out of the place. Nobody spoke a word. It was like they weren’t even there.

Steve walked you to the side of a pick up truck. He opened the door and boosted you inside.

“You don’t understand how unprepared I was for this.” Steve grinned as he buckled your seatbelt. “I was ready to plead and beg, we were meant for each other.”

As the belt clicked you grabbed his cheeks and kissed him again, moaning into his mouth. The time apart now felt like a wasted lifetime. This was right. He was right. Why did it take unearthly visitors to show you what was in front of your face the whole time.

“We have to stop, or I won’t be able to control myself.” Steve wiped his lips as he backed away, slamming the door shut.

He rounded the front of the truck and climbed in the driver’s seat. Buckling in and turning over the engine he whipped out of the parking lot. You wasted no time sliding your hand up his thigh.

“I missed you. God, I missed you.” He gripped the wheel. “I can’t believe I let you get away.”

“Well I’m back now.” You let your hand climb father up his jeans, cupping the bulge of his pants. “And I’m never leaving again.”

You glanced at him, his eyes were fixed on the deserted road. You went for the button on his pants.

“What are you doing?” Steve looked to you with concern.

“I can’t wait any longer.” You yanked down the zipper and pulled his cock out. “I need you, as much of you as I can get.”

Steve let out a moan, approving. You dropped your head and wrapped your lips around his cock. Trying to drool as much as possible, wanting to take him deep.

He shifted, and moved as close to you as possible without stopping. His hand found the skirt of your waitress uniform and pushed it up. He cupped your pussy, making you squeak with the realization of how wet you were, rubbing down hard.

“I guess you did miss me.” He dragged his fingers up and over the top of your panties.

You lifted your hips and pulled them down, trying to concentrate on getting his dick as wet as possible, but eager for your own pleasure too.

“I love you.” His finger found your slit and gathered your juices. “I’ll love you forever.”

Your eyes popped open as he slid a digit inside you with ease. You turned your body so that you were able to press your clit to the base of his palm as he flexed his finger inside of you.

A moan left your mouth and his cock slid deeper.

“You are my forever. I need you. I was a wreck without you.” Steve grunted and his cock slid further into your mouth. “I’ll never let you leave. Never again. I can’t...I can’t be without you.”

You flicked your tongue and sucked harder, sliding down. His knee popped up to touch the steering wheel and his other hand found the back of your head.

“You’re like no other.” He guided you further, his fingers working you into a frenzy as you humped against him, your clit coming to life. “The only soul in existence who fits with mine.”

His words made your heart flutter, but his hands were bringing you closer to the edge.

“And you lied. You did do something bad.” Steve groaned. “You left. I never gave up. I gave you your space, but that’s over. You’re my home.”

You tried to nod as best you could, but you were more interested in controlling your gag reflex. Your body was on fire, nipples tightening, hot and cold alternated all over you. Why did you ever leave him? None of that mattered now.

“Now, be a good girl.” Steve slid another finger inside and began working faster, sliding in and out, flexing against your inside while his palm ground into your clit. “Show me how much you missed me.”

Your body knew what he wanted before you mind caught up and you started to convulse around his hand. Shots of pleasure firing off your entire being. You fell forward, his cock hitting the back of your throat, but the orgasm made you unaware of anything but ecstasy.

His hands vanished and you moved your mouth back, still unsteady from your release. You needed to return the favor, but before you could get to work two hands were on your shoulders, pushing you up to sitting.

You looked out the window and saw you were pulled over on the side of the road in broad daylight. Steve went between your legs and yanked your panties off.

“I need to have all of you.” He grabbed your thigh and guided you to his lap.

You nodded, straddling him as he guided his cock to your entrance.

“Mmm.” You bit your lip as he stretched your quaking pussy. “I missed you. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I never should have left.”

“Shhh.” Steve pulled you down as he flexed up. The burn it caused was beautiful. “Our future is forever. Welcome home.”

You winced when you took him to the hilt. Home. That was the feeling in your heart.

Tears stung at the corner of your eyes as you dropped your head, Steve grabbed your cheek and guided your lips to his. His other hand dug into your hip and guided your body as he fucked you.

You need him to take the lead, incapable of knowing what to do without his skill. His tongue worked yours while his cock brought your pussy to life, rocking you while he slid in and out, short fast movements.

“Oh God.” You broke the kiss, unable to concentrate on it as he picked up the pace.

Steve pulled you against him, his mouth finding your neck, he bit and teased at the skin as you turned into a mewling shaking mess.

“You’re ready to cum.” Steve nipped at your skin.

“No.” You weren’t close, it was the after effects of the first one.

“Yes.” Steve’s hands ran up your back and pulled your down harder. “Don’t fight it. Don’t fight me. Give over.”

“I’m…” You didn’t understand your own body.

“Cum, cum for me.” Steve tugged you down with so much strength you gasped. “NOW!”

Your body responded. The orgasm ripping through you out of what felt like nowhere. The tears flowed as an inhuman noise left your body. You were nothing, just a ball of pleasure, pure euphoria.

Steve growled and joined you in finishing, coating your insides with his white foam. You collapsed against him, wishing the clothes were gone.

Consciousness was sneaking away, your eyes drifting shut. Before you slipped into sleep you swore you saw Tony and Nat, both smiling at you. You were home.

“Hey.” Steve was shaking your shoulder.

“Huh?” Your eyes opened to see a dark sky.

“We have to stop for the night.” He lifted you out of the truck. “You’ve been sleeping all day, but now I need some rest.”

“Sorry.” You wrapped your arms around his neck as he cradled you to his chest.

“Something tells me you haven’t slept that well in a long time.” Steve kissed your forehead as he carried you into the motel room. “You needed it.”

“I needed you.” You smiled as he set you down on the bed.

“Always.” Steve tossed a large bag he’d been carrying onto the floor. “I’m going to take a quick shower. You want to join me?”

“No.” You turned on your side and cuddle the pillow. “Too tired.”

“Alright.” He laughed. “I’ll be right out.”

Steve kissed your forehead again before going into the bathroom. The second he was gone your eyes popped open. You ran for the bag, unzipping it.

It didn’t take long for you to find two things. One was a Manila folder. You opened it and saw everything Tony had shown you, just the old fashioned paper way. Then you saw the little black box. The ring on the inside was the one Nat forced you to look at.

“Thank you.” You looked up at the ceiling, hoping they could hear you.

Steve was going to have you either way, but at least your visitors let you do it on your own terms. You closed up the bag and stood up from the floor.

You glanced to the exit, seeing the keys to the truck sitting there. Instead you smiled, and went to the bathroom, stripping off your clothes in the process. You were home.

#steve rogers x reader #steve x reader #fanfic #marvel #marvel fanfic #fanfiction #marvel fanfiction #avengers fanfic

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thadelightfulone · 3 years

Text

All I Want... 25 Days of Christmas Challenge, Day 5

November 21st - Part 2

Erik’s tablet chimed as he finished up the dishes. He set aside the leftovers for later and went to see what DeeDee had to say.

He roared with laughter at how she ended the email. Why was she so stuck on finding out if he found the love he described? Her curiosity tickled him and now he had to decide how to navigate this conversation away from that kind of talk.

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to talk about the non-existent once-in-a-lifetime kind of love that he wanted. But how do you explain to someone how you never felt you deserved it, so you never went looking for it? And therefore, you don’t have it.

Erik sighed and reached for something stronger than water to drink.

He took the tablet, the bottle and glass into the living room. He took a seat on the couch and cracked his knuckles and began to write his response for the Curious DeeDee. Erik shook his head and laughed again.

Erik hoped this would be enough to get DeeDee away from asking again, but something told him it wasn’t over.

---

DeeDee had devoured half of the pizza and the bottle of wine. She went to her room to change out of her cleaning clothes into her favorite hoodie and a pair of yoga pants.

Her laptop went off when she returned from the back, and DeeDee jumped onto her couch in excitement. She couldn’t wait to find out that he found his true life long love.

If she couldn’t find it for herself, there was no reason for her to not want that for everyone else. Live vicariously through her new friend, Erik. Wait, could she consider him a friend? She scrunched her face at that rude thought and opened his email.

SUBJECT: RE: ‘MgYHeArTaNdSOULa’

Hi Dee Dee,

I know you know I meant science, but I will answer one of those questions to quell your curiosity. I, also, commend you for pursuing your doctorate, and in advanced chemistry, no less.

So, it’s kind of a funny story, but I never meant to leave it in there.

Fun fact about the note, it is much older than you think. I was a civil engineering major during undergrad, when I originally wrote that note and left it in the book.

It happened when I was returning all my checked out books from the library. I was getting ready to move and needed to get them all in to avoid any replacement fees that would have prevented the conferral of my doctoral degree. So, I turned all of those books in without checking them. Which was definitely out of character for me. Especially since I lived by all my written notes for both class and research.

I discovered it was missing when I went to look for it after the move. I knew exactly where it was, but I knew I wouldn’t be going back to get it. So, it was just out there. Besides, I knew what it said by heart, so it was fine.

I will tell you I never expected to be discussing it years later though. It has been a very pleasant surprise.

Thank you,

“Of course, he would avoid the damn question.” She huffed out and poured another glass. It should not be that hard to answer, either he found it or is still in search of it. DeeDee’s hand stilled as she brought it to her lips. Nope, not going there tonight. She took a long drink of her wine.

She set the glass down, drew up her legs and crossed them before settling the computer on her lap. In a flurry, DeeDee’s fingers danced across her keyboard as she wrote her response. The alcohol heated her up to match her current mood.

---

Erik was chilling, in a half-assed attempt to watch the movie playing on TV. He had turned the volume down because the woman’s high pitched tone was grating on his nerves. He set the whiskey down on his coffee table and leaned back with his feet propped up and closed his eyes.

The easily recognizable email alert stirred him. Oh, she had time. It had only been about 20 minutes since he sent the last email. He sat up and opened up the email.

SUBJECT: RE: ‘MgYHeArTaNdSOULa’

Mr. Erik,

So, you really aren’t going to answer that other question? Ok, that’s fine. I’ll let it slide for now.

Thank you for that. I have always wanted to work in the science field and I found toxicology while I was working on my Bachelors. I enjoy it and definitely appreciate having Dr. O as my mentor.

That is an interesting story. The one time you lost control and you left something like the note behind. Well, I guess it is just my luck that I found it and decided to look for you, huh? Oh, and you’re welcome.

What do you do now? I know you aren’t working in a lab or researching much anymore.

I read a little bit about you but I don’t know much about the work that the Wakandan Outreach Centers do. I would love to hear about it.

DeeDee

“That’s right. Quis, did say she was one of his students.” Then why was he worried about the person being a stalker. Erik set the tablet down and reached for his cell to text him.

Erik: Quis, why were you worried about DeeDee?

Quis: What?

Erik: About stalker potential?

Quis: Man, I didn’t even know it was her until she came and showed me a picture.

Erik: What picture?

Quis: Our Grad Student of the Year picture from the front of the Southern Digest.

Erik nodded his head, “So, Miss DeeDee knows what I look like. Or what I looked like.”

Quis: Everything good, man.

Erik: Yeah, yeah. Just wanted a little background, can’t be too sure of people asking for help these days.

Quis: DeeDee could never stoop to Karina’s level. She’s safe.

“The hell, she is.” Erik picked up his glass and took a sip. “This woman is becoming more dangerous, as we speak.”

Quis: So, I take it that you can be of use to her?

Erik: Uh yeah, she is very sharp.

Quis: You have no idea.

Erik: Thanks again. Oh, and I got the email, so I’m making plans now.

Quis: Great. Later, man.

“If Marquis vouched for her, then I have nothing to worry about.”

Erik dropped his phone back onto the couch and picked up the tablet.

“Here goes nothing.”

---

DeeDee was on Spotify. She picked a list at random and let the music take her away. She was slowly bodyrolling to Rome Flynn’s ‘Keep Me In Mind’ with a refreshed glass in hand, when her phone blinked. She walked over to it and saw that Erik had sent another email. She took a sip and picked up her phone to open his reply.

SUBJECT: RE: ‘MgYHeArTaNdSOULa’

DeeDee,

How did I go from Erik to Mister?

I guess if you get to know me better than maybe you would find out the answer to your question.

But you are right. I tend to have a tight rein on things, it has always been that way. So, when I lost the note, I was irritated before I realized it wasn’t going to matter in the long run. But it appears to have landed in exceptional hands. *winks*

Well, I am in the family business. My family started the Wakandan Outreach Centers. The first one was opened up here in Oakland. I am the Director of Operations for it and all the Centers on the West Coast.

My first love will always be science. So, although, I may not be active in the field according to your definition. I still use everything I learned and conduct research with my cousins on a regular basis.

Since you know so much about me. Tell me something about DeeDee. Like how much longer do you have to complete your doctorate?

Mr. Erik

“Does he think that wink is gonna work on me?” DeeDee hid her smile behind the glass. “Damnit.”

She locked up the phone and walked back to her couch. DeeDee traded devices and picked up her laptop to reply to Erik.

“You don’t get to wink at me and then wash over the topic again.”

DeeDee pressed down hard on each key as she typed. She admired the fact that his family was close enough to work together on something as big as the successful operation of multiple Outreach Centers across the U.S. But she would not rest until he answered her.

“You aren’t cute, Mr. Erik.” She glanced over to the notebook, where the newspaper clipping of him and Dr. O was folded up inside. She recalled some dimples and a bright smile. He definitely towered over her 5’4 frame. He stood at least 2-3 inches taller than Dr. O, and she had to look up at him all the time. “Yeah, you not that cute.”

She clapped her hands and hit the ‘send’ button. Her phone went off. She saw Beverly sent something in the group chat.

Bev: Dinner and the club, tonight?

Phyll: You know I’m down.

DeeDee: No thanks. I’m covered for the rest of the year.

Bev: Come on, DeeDee.

DeeDee: Phyll, don’t you have work?

Phyll: Don’t try to change the subject, Dee.

Bev: You ain’t doing nothing important. It’s not like you have something to study for anymore.

DeeDee looked at her computer. “Come on, Erik. Give me a reason to stay home tonight.”

---

Erik just brought the glass to his lips when the tablet alerted him to another email. So, they were really doing this tonight? Back and forth emails in real time. He doesn’t even remember the last time, he looked forward to hearing from someone. It had been a while since someone had his attention like that. And after a few simple emails, he found that DeeDee squirmed her way into that space.

“What’s up Miss DeeDee?” He opened the email, “Ready to share?”

SUBJECT: RE: ‘MgYHeArTaNdSOULa’

Mister Erik,

*pouts* Fine. I don’t know why you can’t just answer the question now, but ok.

That is wonderful. Sounds like the family business is treating you well. And you are enjoying what you do. That is all I want from my career. I want to do research and teach others. It’s a growing field so if we can get more men and women of color into STEM careers, I am here for it.

Something about me -- I’m an only child and a legacy student. Both of my parents attended Southern. In fact, it’s where they met all those years ago. And I like to read...like I can read anything and get lost in someone else’s world for hours.

But this is hopefully my final semester, I am preparing to defend my dissertation next month. Wish me luck!

DeeDee

“Her parents met at Southern?” Erik put the tablet down and walked over to his fireplace. He picked up the center picture from the mantle and closed his eyes briefly. Two people were standing together in front of a large building. He rubbed his fingers over the top of the image of his parents. It read John B. Cade, it was the library at Southern University. Where his parents met and fell in love.

Erik took a deep breath and put the picture back up. He stood there and looked at the tablet.

“Is it possible that she could be?” He shook his head before he went down that road. The image of the last woman he thought could be his one and only flashed across his mind. He groaned out. Erik walked over to the couch and grabbed the tablet. “Only one way to find out.”

Taglist: @teakturn @ghostfacekill-monger @shaekingshitup @nahimjustfeelingit-writes @woahitslucyylu @ladymac82 @bugngiz @eyeknowmywrites @ajspencer1892 @arafatih @issimplyaamazinggg @tchallasbabymama

#25 days of christmas challenge #erik killmonger x oc #black panther fanfiction #bp christmas #all i want #thadelightfulone

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aliceinreverselondon · 3 years

Text

You Really Got Me – part 3: Losing Control (Kakashi Hatake x reader)

(note: part 1 and part 2)

This was probably the first time Kakashi realized how little he knew about your friends. Now that you were heading to a stranger’s place, he began to question his own judgment. If it was only the two of you, it would have been fine, but at the end of the day, his students were still kids. What kind of person this Kisuke was? Could he be trusted?

“Let me guess: I went too far again, didn’t I?” you suddenly asked as you looked over at him.

Oh, look at that, you noticed it without help! That was new. “Yeah, you did,” he confirmed with a nod. “But there’s no turning back now, I guess. The least I can do is help when we get there. If they want to see a fight, we’ll give them a good one,” Kakashi added with a smile under the mask.

“I really missed you. Sometimes I forget that we make a pretty awesome team,” you told him before reaching out to take his hand.

There was no question about it now, you had changed a lot since the last time you met. He wondered why, though. Was it all an act? Were you trying to prepare him for something bad? Could it be related to this friend of yours? No, he shouldn’t be paranoid. You probably didn’t have any ulterior motives. As he tried to get rid of his ridiculous thoughts, he laced his fingers with yours.

“Aaaaargh, can you two just stop? I’ll end up throwing up,” Naruto complained in the back.

“I hate to agree with Naruto, but–”

“Okay, okay, I get it,” Kakashi interrupted Sakura with a sigh. Damn, how could he forget they were sitting back there? Well, maybe it had something to do with the fact they had been unusually quiet. “Alright, here are some rules: be respectful with our host, don’t be too loud or rude and… just… behave. This isn’t too much to ask for, right?” he asked casually.

He looked back and waited until all three nodded. And then out of the blue, you began to laugh and quickly glanced at the rearview mirror. “But don’t worry, Kisuke is kinda a weirdo as well. Just don’t get on his bad side because even I’m scared of him sometimes,” you added after you cleared your throat.

No, he definitely shouldn’t begin to ask you about why you have such people as friends. But it was an interesting question nonetheless. While he spent most of his time among fellow ninjas, you lived in a completely different world with a wide variety of different creatures. Sometimes he wished he could be a part of it, although that would only be possible if he agreed to become one of your Betas. But he still didn’t want that.

Soon the car parked in front of a perfectly normal looking shop and Kakashi couldn’t help but scratch the back of his neck once he got out of the car and took a good look at the building. This place had an underground training facility? In this case, the shop’s real purpose was to hide their real operation. Clever.

“Sakura, did you order the food?”

Kakashi turned around with a questioning look. When the hell did the two of you have time to talk about that? “Yes, it will be here in about half an hour.” Sakura gave you back your phone and you flashed a surprisingly kind smile at her. “Don’t you think it will be too much? This amount of food would be enough for over ten people.”

“Well, I’m sure Naruto is really hungry,” you began as you winked at the boy, “and I’ll also need food to recharge so… yeah, it will be just enough.”

“Y/N, it’s been a long time since we last met!”

Turning to the source of the cheerful sound, Kakashi noticed a blond man waving at you from the door. Was he that friend you’d talked to? Was he only a friend? Or was there a time there was more between the two of you? No, he had to stop acting like some jealous idiot every time you even looked at another man. You loved him, that was obvious. But by the time he managed to push these thoughts to the back of his mind, everybody was already inside the shop so he quickly caught up with you.

When he stopped, you immediately wrapped an arm around him and said, “And this is Kakashi Hatake, my better half as of now.”

Wait, your what?

“He’s gonna help me with this little… demonstration. And we should do it before the food arrives.”

“Alright, let’s go then,” Kisuke said with a wide grin then signaled the group to follow him. “Once the fight begins, stay where we tell you otherwise you might get hurt,” he explained to the kids along the way.

“So what’s the plan?” Kakashi asked as the two of you stayed behind a bit.

“I don’t have a plan,” you admitted. “But you should go all out against me. Hell, you should also use your Chidori. I’d like to see their faces when I come back after that.”

Okay, so she was really hell-bent on scaring the kids. This could end really, really bad if you lost control, and right now he had a feeling this could easily happen. He knew that look in your eyes and it made him uneasy. Behind that carefree smile was a monster waiting to come out to play.

The training ground was impressive to say the least, he had never seen anything like this before. No wonder you chose this as a location, it was perfect for this purpose. Maybe they should build something like this back home. But these thoughts were soon replaced by new ones because he was still worried about the fight, even when the two of you were facing each other at a safe distance from the rest of the group. How could he stop you if you lost control?

First, it was hand-to-hand combat, using basic weapons for now. Unlike him, though, you never carried weapons with you since you could create them by manipulating a type of dark matter within seconds. It was a handy trick of phantoms, something he envied every now and then. After this, it was time to move on and he began to use different kinds of jutsu against you. There were some you could copy with your own ability, some you dodged by quickly teleporting out of the way, but mostly you created shields to protect yourself.

At one point you stopped and remained completely still, signaling him to use his original move against you. He wasn’t really fond of the idea of attacking you with the intention to kill you because it kept reminding him of what had happened with Rin back in the day. I shouldn’t compare the two, you can easily come back to life in a matter of minutes, he thought. After taking a deep breath, he did it. He pierced his hand through your heart and the only thing that made him feel a little better was the wicked little smile on your lips before you slowly disappeared in the form of black smoke.

As he waited, he thought about the way you had fought him. Something was wrong. Even that smile at the end… it wasn’t a playful one. And even your eyes turned black. You were slowly losing control and this was something he had feared from the beginning. If you came back who kne–

Pain. He felt pain in the back of his head as it hit the ground. When his vision cleared, he noticed you sitting on top of him, one hand tight around his throat, and the other covered in dark matter with an end shaped like a spear. This was bad. This was really, really bad. Soon this spear would be pierced through his head, only to have large spikes forming on its side seconds later. You wanted to kill him. If he didn’t find a way out of this situation this will be the end for him. “Y/N, come one, don’t do this,” he tried.

“Shibari, Benihime,” he heard a faint voice in the background and almost right away a crimson net appeared around your body, completely immobilizing you. When he pushed you off himself and sat up, he noticed Kisuke standing not far from you with a katana in his hand. “Are you okay?” When he nodded in response, the man walked over to you and let out a sigh. “When was the last time you visited him?” he asked quietly.

You looked up at him and your eyes slowly turned back to normal. “Tonight. But it was a quick visit.”

Who the hell were you two talking about? And had it happened right before you met at the restaurant? So if his guess was right, you didn’t disappear because of an assassination.

“Yet it was enough to rile you up,” Kisuke noted as he looked back at the kids. “No wonder they managed to make you this mad. Anyway, did you calm down? We should go and eat, I’m sure the food is already here.”

You nodded, but Kakashi couldn’t look at you now, instead he turned his attention to his students. They were terrified and he couldn’t blame them for this. That was close. Too close.

If you find any mistakes or typos, I’m sorry, I didn’t really read it again before posting.

taglist: @spn-obession @marajillana @sarahschance

#kakashi hatake #kakashi hatake x reader #kakashi x reader #hatake kakashi #hatake kakashi x reader #kakashi imagine #kakashi hatake imagine #hatake kakashi imagine #fanfic #fanfiction #naruto #kisuke urahara #sakura haruno #naruto uzumaki #sasuke uchiha #bleach #kakashi hatake fanfiction #hatake kakashi fanfiction #kakashi fanfiction

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pompompossum · 3 years

Text

It was always the quiet days that set Mond’s Cavalry Captain on edge. As a man who makes his living on hushed gossip and drunken secrets, a quiet day was a dangerous day. While Mondays usually set the city square into a frenzy, with the announcement of new bounties for aspiring adventures and the restocking of goods across the various vendors in town, the torrential rain that met the city as the sun rose that morning meant that only those who lacked their daily essentials were left scrambling about, bouncing between buildings in search of shelter.

That isn’t to say that he was slacking off with the poor weather hanging overhead. No, that would be too easy. Rather, poor weather meant paperwork. And by the Seven, Kaeya swore to himself that Lisa had been hoarding every miscellaneous form she could get her hands on for him to review since he had forgotten to return that one book on Snezhnaya he had borrowed after one of his operatives spotted La Signora in the city. It wasn’t his fault that the tomb had made for the perfect paperweight after he had found it was worthless for his intended purposes.

The smile she’d worn as she cornered him in the lobby after his lunch break earlier in the afternoon had bordered on sadistic. He was on his fifth hour of administrative work by now and, between the pounding rain howling against his window and the strain reading by candlelight put on his one functioning eye, he scraped his chair against the hardwood away from his desk as he brought a hand up to nurse his aching head.

He’d probably have to stay in the barracks tonight. The rain showed no signs of stopping and his apartment, tucked snug in the side street near the travelling vendors’ market, was too far to traverse in this weather. Perhaps he could fashion a makeshift cryo umbrella, if only he could reach the end of this damned paperwork. Public relations, damage estimates for recent Abyss encounters, and was that paperwork for the library? Gods, Lisa really hated him right now, huh? The captain was certain he had a nice vintage squirreled away in his wine cabinet at home. A lovely barolo gifted to him by a noble from Fontaine not long after his rise to Cavalry Captain. Though Kaeya had never abstained from alcohol, certainly since he was old enough to legally drink, the thought of wine at the time had driven him to hide it away. He supposed that Lisa would make much better use of it than himself and made a mental note to find it when he got home.

With a sigh, the captain stretched in his seat until his neglected joints popped, groaning at the release of tension. Given his busy schedule, he had forgotten his plans to stop for supper at Good Hunter. Glancing at his pocket watch, a gift from the Traveller, he noted it was past Sara’s typical business hours. Ah well, a cup of tea would have to suffice. With it being so late, he would have the luxury of the headquarters’ common room to himself. While many of the higher ranking officers of the Ordo took breaks and tea in their own private offices, a common room on the second floor was provided for the knights to avail of. And the last time Kaeya checked, there had been a small kitchen there, one where Miss Noelle was handy to store that lovely chamomile tea she had served him recently.

Rising from his desk, he made his way from his office and down towards the common area, giving a brief, lazy salute to any knights stuck on nightwatch. He was thankful that Swan seemed to be off this evening, likely on shift at the city gates. Barbatos knows that man took his job far too seriously, and Kaeya was too tired to receive his advice on following the Ordo’s handbook effectively. Instead, the few knights he passed were content to simply share brief “hello”s and well wishes to their captain, and soon Kaeya found himself striking matches in the common room before watching the water slowly rise to temperature, the flames waving faintly in the hearth. As the water came to a boil, he busied himself with finding just where Noelle had hidden her tea that evening when suddenly he heard the floorboards in the common room creak. Hmm, curious. Placing the tea tin on the counter gently and snuffing the flame with a gust of cryo, he crept to the corner of the doorway, curious to see who else might be roaming the halls after hours.

No one, so it would seem. The room hadn’t changed since he entered, with no sign of anyone. Except the door had been jarred and there was a soft sniffling sound coming from behind the chaise lounge on the other side of the room. Light on his feet, the captain came closer, spotting a familiar shade of blonde crouched against the window behind the furniture, tiny legs tucked in tightly, face smooshed into her knees.

“Klee? What are you doing up past your bedtime?” Kaeya softened his features as he watched her jump, making sure to not crowd her in her hiding spot.

“Kaeya!” And oh dear those were tears, weren’t they? “Klee didn’t know you were here…”

“And I you, my little Spark Knight.” He considered her spot, sitting next to the window overlooking the city, including a clear view of the city gates. Visibility was poor, but Kaeya could see the window’s view of Dawn Winery in his mind. In the daylight, one could almost make out the servants’ outdoor lounge and the vineyard. “Would you mind if I sat with you?”

She gave a small nod, hiding her face in her knees once again. Oh dear Captain Kaeya you’ve found yourself even more trouble tonight, huh? One of the knights had left a plush blanket draped against the arm of the chaise. Given the chill of the glass, surely it would be appreciated. Picking it up, he bent down to sit against the window, his legs bent awkwardly to fit behind the furniture. Gently, he wrapped the blanket around her, tucking the little Spark Knight in with a pat on the head. Then, he sat and he waited. Situations like this called for patience. Slowly, he heard her shift in the blanket as she loosened her posture, coming to rest her head on his arm.

“Klee doesn’t like it when it rains.” The young pyro wielder whispered, so quiet Kaeya strained to hear her. “It’s cold and I can’t use my vision or play with Razor or Qiqi. And… and it makes me worry about where mommy is.” Ahh, there it was...

It wasn’t long after his promotion that Alice had left Mondstadt. At first, when Alice had arrived at the Varka’s office with a tiny child clinging to her skirts and peeking out to take in the building, it was assumed the situation would be a temporary one. As one of Teyvat’s greatest minds, the alchemist’s research was of great importance to the Ordo. Used by both the Knights and common folk alike, her Teyvat Travel Guides served as crucial tools for any adventurer and her work with the Hexenzirkel provided invaluable data for the study of the Abyss Realm. So, for her to announce her intentions to leave Mond for research purposes was unsurprising.

But, seasons had passed and letters from the alchemist had been few and far in between. Though Alice spoke of her love for her little Spark and her hopes to see her again soon, each letter shared a common theme. Complications had arisen and research would take longer than expected. While his web of intel ensured him of her safety, it had been about five months since Kaeya had heard of a letter arriving from her. Alice is a strong woman of course. While visionless, her alchemic abilities, as well as her ability to craft and deploy explosives, made her a formidable opponent in combat. There was no real worry over her safety. But, loneliness was understandable. While Mondstadt’s Chief Alchemist is a highly capable and intelligent man, socialization was something Albedo often neglected. Rather, he was more often than not a phantom within the Ordo Headquarters, appearing from his private laboratory only for resource gathering and the occasional trip to visit Timaeus in the city square. Thus, like many of the children received by the city of freedom, Klee found herself in the protection and care of the entire Ordo. A child of Mondstadt through and through. And that meant she was under Kaeya’s care tonight.

Running a hand through one of her pigtails, tucking a stray lock behind her ear, he looked out into the rain. “Storms like this are sad, aren’t they? Can I share a secret with you?”

“Big brother Kaeya has a secret? Klee promises not to tell!” The young knight assures him, raising a pudgy little finger to her lips, her voice hushed and earnest. A child’s naivete is something sacred, indeed. Her reaction brings a tiny smile to his face.

“I don’t like the rain either.” Storms bring memories of retreating backs, the biting sting of rejection and the chill of abandonment. When the wind howls, getting caught in the rain is like a kiss from the Tsaritsa against his exposed skin, reminding him of the delicate embrace of her cryo shield that night. It makes his vision thrum and flicker against his hip and causes the skin beneath his eyepatch to ache something fierce. Rain means tragedy and pain, and honesty in a way Kaeya has long since denied himself the pleasure of.

“Klee wonders if mommy has shelter, or if it’s sunny where she is.”

The rain brings the worst of Kaeya to the surface, melts his shields of mockery and cryo and leaves him stark and defenseless to the storm. But-

“It has to rain sometimes, if the flowers are to grow and the rivers are to last. Without the rain, the world loses a part of itself. And I’m sure that even when it’s cold, Miss Alice is kept warm knowing that you’re safe and sound here.” Klee lets out a soft noise in thought. She’s been slowly worming her way into his lap, pulling her blanket around them both in the process. “Besides, the rain makes us seek shelter and warmth and brings people closer together in doing so. We can appreciate our time in the company of another and look forward to seeing the sun when it’s over. It’s always nice after the rain, isn’t it?”

The young girl tucks the blanket under her chin, leaning her head back against his chest to look up at him.

“Klee likes the rainbows after a storm. And the way the air smells. And Klee’s favourite mushyrooms like the rain, so they grow extra big after!” Her voice grows in her excitement, chattering like a Springvale squirrel.

“That’s right. It’s not very nice out right now, but we have plenty to look forward to in the morning. After you get some rest.” Klee is a wonderful child, but he was glad to say he had never seen her cranky from lack of sleep. And he was not in the mood to find out what that looked like, especially with the experiments she and Albedo have been concocting lately. The smell of gunpowder and flaming flower stamens emanating from the alchemy wing within the past few weeks had been concerning to say the least.

“But Klee’s not tired yet..”

“Then how about you join me for some tea and then we’ll see. You caught me just as I was brewing some.” Chamomile would be useful for chasing away any bad dreams, and the sooner the Spark Knight was back in bed, the sooner he could return to his work.

“Okay!” Still so vibrant and loud at such a late hour. Kaeya supposed that their secret sharing time, and its quietness, were over for the night. “Can Klee have honey in her tea? Pleasee?” Sugar might not be a good idea this late at night but what the hell? Kaeya could be the fun brother tonight. Rising to his feet with a bundle of Klee and blanket in his arms, he let out a light chuckle.

“I’m sure that can be arranged, my dear Spark Knight.”

It didn’t take long for the tea to work its magic. While she may have whined over the prospect of going back to bed, Kaeya found himself moving to protect her head from hitting her tea cup more than once as the pair shared a late night snack. He wasn’t sure who had left a tin of baked goods in the kitchen, but he made note to stop by Good Hunter early tomorrow to replace them. Making their way back to solitary, Kaeya lifted her up to rest against his shoulder as they reached the stairs. Pulling back her bed covers gently, Kaeya laid her down gently, placing Dodoco beside her.

“Okay, firefly, hat and scarf, please.” While she had been dressed for bed, she had kept those on, likely to ward the chill of the building at night. As she passed each of them to him, he hung them on their respective hangers above her desk, each adorned with a different breed of crystalfly. She was asleep before he even turned around. Kneeling down next to her cot, he pulled the thick, red quilt up and over, tucking her in in a familiar motion, making sure Dodoco was tucked in just as tight. Smoothing down her hair, he rose to his feet, moving to snuff out the bedside lantern.

“Good night, big brother…” It was soft, muffled by pillows and blankets, but Kaeya heard her loud and clear.

“Good night Klee. Sweetest dreams.” Shutting the door as quietly as possible and sharing a brief greeting with Wood, the Cavalry Captain made his way back to his office. But not long after returning to his desk, sleep caught up with him as well.

---

The wind was too loud, even with his hands over his ears. It was the first storm since Kaeya began living at the manor and it was dredging up sore memories. It made him think of Mama. It was always cold in Khaenri’ah, so if it was cold in Mondstadt it must be freezing there tonight. She had found materials to work on that blanket she had been planning just before his father whisked him away. It had been about six months now since he arrived in Mondstadt. Kaeya wonders if she got to finish it before the weather got colder. Kaeya wishes he had had the chance to help her with it. She always made him tea before he sat and watched her work.

It was past 8 o’clock, the time Master Crepus set for him and the young master to head to bed. The two children shared bedrooms next to one another, their beds sharing the same wall. Kaeya wondered if the person in the bed next door was finding it easier to sleep. Diluc had warmed up to him instantly, even as the adults around them worried over what to do with a lost and scared child, still wrapped in the lord of the house’s rain soaked coat. While Kaeya still struggled with some aspects of Mond’s language and various dialects, Diluc’s running dialogue of funny stories and history lessons of all his favourite places in Mondstadt had made it easier to pick up the language fast. On more than one night, Kaeya found himself lulled to sleep by the boy’s stories of Arundolyn and Rostam, only to find himself safe and snug in his bedroom by morning.

Curling his fists in his blankets, he wondered if Diluc was still awake. Clutching the lightest of the bed clothes to his chest, a knit chenille blanket Crepus had gifted him his first night in the manor, he crept out of the room and across the hall on the balls of his feet. Diluc’s bedroom door was unlocked, but Kaeya hesitated with his hand on the doorknob. What if Diluc got mad at Kaeya for waking him up? Kaeya was only a year and a half younger, but what if the redhead thought he was a crybaby? Before he could make up his mind, the door, not fully shut when the elder boy had gone to bed, creaked open on unoiled hinges. From the doorway, Kaeya watched as the body laying in bed shifted before letting out a small groan.

“Kaeya..?” Darn it, Kaeya thought, as Diluc sat up, rubbing at his eyes lazily with his fist, “What’s wrong?” Kaeya froze like a deer in the headlights, unsure what to do. At his silence, Diluc perked up, squinting into the darkness to make out the shape in his doorway. “Kaeya? Is everything okay?”

“I can’t sleep…” His cheeks burned with embarrassment, little feet shuffling against the cold hardwood. He wrapped his blanket around himself tighter, tucking in his chilly nose and mouth, as if it would muffle what had already been said. The older boy watched him for a moment, before shifting in bed.

“Wanna sleep here tonight?” To punctuate his question, Diluc patted the empty space next to him. Kaeya gave a small nod before padding into the room, moving fast before the redhead could rescind the offer. Crawling under the blankets, he snuggled into the warmth, savouring the safe space. He hadn’t noticed from the doorway, but Diluc had stuffed animals in the bed with him. Kaeya hadn’t seen them before, but his older brother was adamant that he wasn’t a little boy anymore. He was just shy of 12 years old, after all. So it made sense he would be sensitive about needing plushies to sleep. Kaeya held the paw of a dog-shaped plush as he turned his head to face Diluc.

“What’s keeping you up?” Diluc had a furrow between his brows as he looked at him, having settled back into bed. He had wrapped his arms around his pillow, squishing his cheek into the fabric as he tried to read his brother’s face in the dark. He pouted as he said it, as if he had phrased something wrong. “You don’t need to tell me, but I want to help.”

“The storm,” Kaeya took a deep breath to calm himself, wrapping himself into the blanket cocoon tighter and pulling the plushie closer. “I want my mama… She always let me sleep with her when it was scary outside.” The smell of fresh linens clinging to the sheets around him was so different from the smell of lavender she carried. The pillows felt nothing like the comfort of his head resting on her chest, her fingers smoothing the knots in his hair.

“I miss my mom too,” Diluc’s voice pulled him from his thoughts. “I didn’t get to know her, but dad has so many stories about her. Whenever I have nightmares, he lets me stay in his room for the night and he tells me stories about her until I fall asleep.” His grip on the pillow tightened. “Our moms aren’t around, but we have each other! We can scare the nightmares away, right?” The young redhead had raised his voice and Kaeya tried his best to stifle his laugh. Laughing would be mean, mama said so. And Diluc’s bed and stuffed animals were more comfy than his cold room with all that wind howling outside his window. So, instead he nodded.

“Mhm!”

---

Sleeping sitting up was never good for the neck or back. And sleeping on a mountain of paperwork and pens wasn’t much better.

The sunlight had been a rude awakening. The torrential downpour had broken, the clouds parting to reveal the sunniest day Mond had seen in a while, light catching on the puddles as a rainbow stretched lazily across the horizon. It would have been pretty if it hadn’t been so impolite in waking the Quartermaster. Letting out a croaky yawn, Kaeya popped his back as he stretched like a cat across his desk. The paperwork beneath him was a lost cause, so why not. Gods, Lisa was going to have his neck. Better buy a few electro resistance potions before he faced her today.

Looking over his desk to survey the damage, he noticed a bundle of red cloth complete with a small note written in clunky, childish handwriting.

“Good morning, Kaeya! Klee made fishy toast and skewers with Aether and Paimon for you. Enjoy! :)”

Kaeya let out a huff of laughter at the doodle she had left at the bottom of the note of them both standing in the sun. The way she had drawn his face told him that Albedo had given her art lessons again. Tucking into his breakfast, Kaeya gazed out the window. The storm had dissipated to reveal a cloudless sky, and from his office he could see the people in the market square milling about, mingling and laughing in the balmy spring air.

The view told Kaeya that it was going to be a good day today.

#genshin impact #kaeya ragnvindr #kaeya alberich #genshin klee #diluc ragnvindr #this fic has been sitting in my wips since new years #so why not post it now?#fic #k*eluc shippers dni #tag this as inc*st and i'll bust your kneecaps

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elyella · 4 years

Text

How MewGulf saved me

¤Sorry I don’t speak english, it’s poorly written¤

They call this ↓ ↓ ↓ fan service.

They know exactly how to act, how to show us the right “lover look“. They are well aware about every move they have to make so we all believe this ship is real. They care about the smallest details; the way their lips move, the gazes, every touch, every blink, every smile... Everything is calculated.

But you know what? It’s one thing to be a good actor, and it’s an other to fake All. The. Time. Seriously, they never get a break, they are always together, always working: photoshoots, interviews, live events... It goes on and on, endlessly since.... last year? So, if this is all fake, as an actor, I would be EXHAUSTED right now. And as an individual, human being, I would be MENTALLY EXHAUSTED too. Always pretending just to please all the fans? No way, my brain would have exploded long ago. I would be screaming for a break, for vacations, for freedom, for rest.

So, why those two didn’t become insane yet? Well, maybe because all of this is not 100% fake. Maybe they are not pretending all the time. Maybe part of them enjoy this shipping thing a little because... Well, I would not say they have fell in love with each other, but there is a genuine connection for sure and a true friendship between those two that could explane the obvious pleasure and easyness they have in playing their role as a couple.

Of course we wish that this relationship could be real. But why do we want this? Why do we wish them so bad to be a real couple?

Maybe because since the beginning they created a real bond, not a fake one just for the sake of their job? Maybe because whenever they are together, in front of a camera or not, they always act natural, always stay themselves and genuine?

And, well, look at them. Look at this chemistry.

How can we not ship them? Body language is natural behind the staged behavior. We want them to be together because they give us the illusion that what they share is real happiness. Illusion or not, I think fiction became somehow reality. They transcended their characters literally. Unlike a lot of BL actors, they never give the vibe that what they have to do for fanservice is a trick so it is very easy for fans to fall in deep fantasies. And with other BL couples, there is often an awkward moment, a second of hesitation, before they move and oblige the fans. But MewGulf? Never they hesitate, and they go for it, they even anticipate what fans are expecting from them, but never we feel that they force themselves; they respect each other. They are natural and authentic.

It is obvious that they get along very well in their everyday life. Moreover, we can feel the harmony and goodwill even when it comes to play silly games and promote products such as tooth paste (!) or talking pillows (!?).

It is often said that this couple had brought fan service to a next level. Indeed, they did. But to me it is not just about the way they are inconsciously so clingy and touchy to each other. Nah. Without realising it, they brought fan service to a much esssential level and they did it without calculating anything, without measuring anything, without preparing anything, unlike those staged stances during fan meetings. And I’m going to tell how they did it.

I discovered those two little sunshines in the middle of the world confinement. Unlike almost everyone else, I couldn’t stay safe at home. At that time, I was scared, I was working on what we called the first line, I was depressed, tired. And those two little sunshines kept entertaining their audience as the whole planet was on lockdown. They made me laugh, they made me smile, they made me forget about all my worries, all my fears, each time they appeared on the Net.

I found them in a pretty random way -I didn’t even know that thai drama existed at that time, much less BL! - but I like to say that destiny brought them at the right moment.

We live in a world full of horror and madness, a world uncertain and fragile, and to see them singing along with a weird microphone, for example, was a ray of light in the darkness of reality. As for me, I needed this. I needed to witness such a beautiful relationship.

The lover thing is fake or is not –who cares? what happens in their personal life is not of our business, cause YES they do deserve some privacy even if they are big stars- but there is definitely a real bond, a real friendship, a real brotherhood between them that makes each live session unique and endearing.

They give us ... hope? Yeah, hope it is. Hope that love (and I’m not talking about love as a couple concept. I’m talking about love in its purest form; a strong link between two spirits regardless gender, age, race) can overcome everything, can be powerful and genuine, pure and innocent, true and blissful. Both their characters and the men behind them have taught me a lesson; true love has no gender, true love has no frontier, true love can have many aspects, many descriptions, many meanings.

“Two brothers that love each other” That is the way they described their relationship. Well, I think what they share, what they show to us, is beyond the word love, beyond the word brother. It’s something stronger and purer than that. And I don’t think there is a word that had been invented yet to describe that kind of relationship, simply because we have never seen this before. It is unique and indescribable and that is why they reached our heart deeply as no other BL couple had ever done. “Soulmates” sounds too cliche to me, but it is the closest word that could describe what I see when I watch all those “fan services” stuff.

Now let’s hope one thing: I know, in a near future, those two will have to move on. One day, life will lead them to different paths. It’s a fatality. But I hope they will always be thankful for what they shared together. I hope this duo will survive their own aura of success, because this industry can be really cruel and so toxic. I saw too many partners fall apart and end up their relationship in bitterness. I wish they will learn how to deal with the pressure and how to protect their bond from the dark side of celebrity.

Over all, I hope that they will be aware that they made people like me happy. Even though all of this was just a game for them -a job, an act- what they brought to me was real and precious.

They saved my life in many ways. Last spring, during lockdown, all I was doing was work-work-work, in an environement considered not safe and at the end of each day, I was confined at home, feeling lonely, exhausted, and stressed out. Many people around me at work had medical prescriptions for anti-stress pills, or started drinking alcohol or started using drugs just to calm down their nerves. We had a lot on our plate, but we could not give up, people needed our help more than never in this great time of need, so we all found our own way to deal with the situation and stay operational.

As for me I found the perfect cure for anxiety: MewGulf. I didn’t know I needed this. Didn’t know that two guys living on the other side of the planet had somekind of healing power over me. But it happened anyway.

You can be a hero by doing simple things; sharing a live from home while baking cookies

and playing videos games, or singing along with a weird microphone,

or wearing an Hawaiian skirt dancing Baby Shark

or putting stickers and flashy make up on your face

and so much more goofy stuff like that ;) Just by being themselves, with their happy energy, together they became my heroes. I’m glad and I’m grateful to have found them when I was really in a bad state. Each night, after another stressful day at work, they recharged my batteries. God, I don't even speak Thai! I don't get a word of what they're saying, but just the sound of their voices, their sweet laughter and their beaming face had the effect of a lullaby that sang me to sleep.

I hope they know that they have made a real difference. Difference between salvation and depression, between hope and despair, between life and death. And that is the ultimate fan service level they could reach.

Thank you my little two sunshines.

Be happy. Stay safe.

Ely

#mewgulf #tharntype #gulf kanawut #mew suppasit #long post #bl series #thai drama

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4dtk · 4 years

Text

Yellow

Pairing: Blind!Jaemin x Florist!Reader

Genre: Angst, Fluff, Humour (a teeny bit) / Soulmate!AU where you see colours when you meet eyes with your soulmate

Warnings: Mentions of a car accident, (might be) inaccurate depictions of corneal blindness although I googled

Word Count: 5k

A/N: This work is fictional and I do not wish for any of the incidents here to happen to the boys in real life. If you are uncomfortable with reading this, please don’t hesitate to scroll past! This is a little longer and different than what I usually write too, so I hope it’s okay! I realise I didn’t really utilise the reader as a florist that much either, so apologies for that! I made a playlist for this fic too, it can be found here.

Jaemin was confused, for himself, for his soulmate, for his parents. He didn’t expect any of it when the blood runs from his head and nose, when he hears the distant wailing of an ambulance and smells the pungent odour of smoke rising from the crashed vehicle.

His eyes felt blocked but weighed light at the same time, like a fluid that’s been spread over his pupils like ointment.

Jaemin’s body lay motionless while the male attempts to peek around the accident, observing the bent metal near his injured leg and the airbag supporting his manager’s limp body.

Was he dead? It was nerve-wrecking, even when he wasn’t the one leaning over the white inflatable object; weirdly, his heart felt heavy when he noticed no movement from the man who took care of him since day one.

The man who checked on Jaemin when he’d fall down from riding the hoverboard too fast or when he pulled a nerve doing the ‘Boom’ choreography—his manager who’s there to tell him to wear his cap tightly over his head before going live with Haechan and Renjun.

It was something he remembered when he felt paramedics lift his body up onto a stretcher, recalling on when they’d laugh about it when the live ended.

Jaemin was told to regulate his breathing in the ambulance, having no choice to hope that his manager is in good hands as he follows the paramedic on duty.

He had no strength to even ask if the other was doing okay, unable to get the sight of blood staining and tainting the airbag, out of his mind.

He doesn’t think much of it, perhaps even enjoying the light feeling in his lungs and the pain in his leg reaching the maximum that his nerves turn numb.

When he hears and feels the rush of the hospital staff, however, Jaemin realises it might be worse than it actually is.

There’s a faint shout of a doctor to a nurse, and he loses all grip on his senses after, succumbing to the metallic, disinfectant smell of the hospital which he hasn’t inhaled since the start of his year-long hiatus.

“Damn, My First and Last sounds so good, hyung!” Jaemin gushes over the FaceTime with Mark, the older offering a small smile and a story that happened when they were filming the music video. It was unfortunate that Jaemin had injured his spine so close to the comeback date, but could anyone blame him for how hard he worked?

Jeno promised to show him the move he was practicing before getting the peculiar feeling in his spine and the youngest ensured that they’ll try the ‘pulling’ move on the floor where they grabbed each other’s feet.

Jaemin could feel their love, even now, as he hears Renjun’s reaction and Jeno’s voice booming over the phone. There’s a fuss over the line before it goes dead, mind drifting off as his head begins to hurt more and the feeling in his leg starts to come back.

With a team of surgeons now preparing for their new patient, Jaemin struggles to hold on to the nurse’s hand, urgency thick in the air until his ears is met with an unfamiliar voice. He lets the doctor talk to him, placing his bets on his deteriorating senses.

The members scramble to grab their things, moments of scurrying and ducking under the other’s arms, passing their manager whatever Jaemin may need in the hospital, showing their natural teamwork even off stage.

All of them pile into the car, tension lingering between the members, no one brave enough to address the elephant in the room as Jisung struggles to hold in his tears. Collectively, they worry about their member on the way to the hospital, supporting each other silently as they always have since debut.

Jeno shoots a quick text to Doyoung, informing him of the situation and the 127 members are rushing, now, as well.

“A few. Only a few of us should go.”

“Why?” Doyoung shoots back at Taeyong. As much as the leader ached to tag along, there was the current pandemic going on. The government encouraged their people to stay home unless necessary, but the youngest couldn’t let his friend suffer alone.

Haechan cuts in with a sharp tone, voice wavering just a little. “I’ll go. Let me go, hyung, please.”

Taeyong gives a shaky nod, head dipping and eyes focusing on the floor as Doyoung and Haechan leave the dorm, but not before dragging Mark who was glued to the floor at the news.

Kun’s concerned texts distract Doyoung from the problem at hand momentarily, though the oldest still grapples with the terrifying scenarios playing in his mind, laying either hand on the two trembling members.

As both groups make their way to the hospital, Jaemin remains unconscious from anaesthesia, not knowing of the panic across NCT as a whole. The chaos everyone felt contrasted with his feeling of peace on the operating table, mind drifting to thoughts of meeting his soulmate.

The thoughts of seeing colour seep into his life as he found the person of his dreams. The background would fade around them as he focused only on them, the wide smile they would don as the emerging colours added to the moment.

Jaemin’s confusion surged to an all time high when he had gained consciousness with a blur to his vision. It was glitched and unusual, the familiar black and white fading in and out.

All he could concentrate on was his soulmate. What were they doing? Did they know he’d been hurt so badly? What if he couldn’t find ‘The One’?

The questions swirled his head with the seconds ticking by, black and white fading to just black for a moment before bouncing back to the greyscale colour palette.

Within the next minute, or what felt like one, Jaemin was in his ward, the members awaiting any news from the doctor. As he makes his way out of the operating room after clean-up, he retracts from the amount of people staring back at him with hopeful eyes.

“I’ll talk to one of you. Ensure safe distancing, boys.” Chenle looks to his hyung, Renjun, who just sighs and rolls his eyes, taking a seat to calm his nerves as Doyoung stepped up to talk to the doctor.

The doctor takes a big gulp before speaking, prompting the oldest’s eyes to snap down to his name tag on his stark white coat.

Dr. Na. What a coincidence he’d have the same surname as Jaemin.

“I’m… afraid the car crash might’ve done a number on his head. There’s-“

The familiar rush of sirens causes the doctor cut his sentence short, though it catches Doyoung by surprise at how loud the sirens appeared to be.

“Mr. Na suffered a blow to the brain which controls his vision. The force of the crash punctured his retina and when theres a tear present, fluid can pass through, spreading between the retina and the eye’s back wall.”

Doyoung is quick to ask a question, but retracts at the hand of the doctor, watching how he removes the skin-tight gloves with caution.

“It’s… lucky that we got him here on time, but because he fell on his right, the retina might have detached faster than we expected; the left, not so much. If the rush to the hospital was a little slower, there might have been more damage to both his eyes.”

The other’s breath stops at this.

The doctor senses the shock residing in Doyoung’s body, escaping through his facial expression in short breaths.

“The other surgeons are getting him into a stable state, currently. I’m in their team and is just here to convey his condition—the main doctor who will take over his case will be the one talking to you later.”

“As lucky as Mr. Na is to have lived, you should let the boy rest for now. When he does wake up, notify one of the nurses. They might have to guide him through words as we are unsure of the state of his vision.”

Doyoung swallows the inquiring questions he had on the tip of his tongue, nodding along to the instructions before seeing the other’s figure disappear into the ward. A nurse emerges from the operating room with something in hand, following the doctor into the ward with the object.

“Jaemin’s in stable condition.” Doyoung mutters quietly, hopefully loud enough for the others to hear since he wasn’t looking forward to the next thing.

“But…?” Haechan stepped forward, seeking answers and clutching onto the other’s arm. Doyoung didn’t seem to mind, even when the squeeze was starting to hurt.

“The doctors are unsure of how his vision will turn out; there’s a possibility he-“ The silence broke when Jisung sinks into Jeno’s side, body shaking with quiet sobs. The older comforts him while Doyoung still struggles to get the next words out.

“What is it, hyung? Say it out, please!” His heart broke, seeing the younger one be like this. Haechan was always cheerful when he was in the dorm, clinging onto Taeil while annoying the hell out of the Doyoung. It was in their nature to bicker, but when he was begging right in front of him for the news of his friend, he couldn’t bring himself to say it.

“Mr. Na is stable. Come in with caution, please.” Doyoung felt selfish as he thanked the interruption, not wanting to be the person to break the news.

The boys enter quietly, not wanting to startle Jaemin, if he was even awake.

They watch the bed Jaemin was on without words, some staring off into space while Doyoung observes the steady breathing of the boy. It was calming to see him at least cleaned of the blood, the images circling the internet plaguing Doyoung’s mind.

He was sure the fans were already informed of the accident. Lost and adrift, Doyoung hopes he can address and reassure them about the incident soon, placing his hopes that Jaemin was well even if he hasn’t woken up.

・．━━━━━━━━━━━━━━．・

“Don’t forget to bring in the roses, we went a week without them and I don’t think I can deal with any more fussy customers.”

Being a florist while you haven’t found your soulmate was hard. You found it especially hard when you needed to arrange flowers for banquets and customers—there were colours you hadn’t learned to see and wondered if they matched each other when you started out on arranging.

You’ve learnt that there can be a handful of colour combinations, thankful for your mother who was patient enough to tell you the colour of each flower you pointed out.

“When do you think I’ll find him? Or her?”

Your mother shrugs as she snipped off the stem of a flower, throwing it away before washing her hands.

“Could be any time soon.” She whispers, inspecting the daisy she had in a hand, the yellow in the middle standing out.

Whilst she could enjoy the colours of the vibrant shop, you were still stumbling over various flowers that looked the same. Without the labels on the boxes, you might’ve had more trouble than you already had.

“You really think so?”

Your mother nods with a smile, handing you the daisy in her hand. “You’ll be asking me about colours very soon, I’m positive.”

There’s a small smile on your face at her answer, walking around the shop to check on the flowers as the crowd had died down.

You first discovered what your mother did for a living when you stumbled down from upstairs with a flu, finding hard to rest when the shop downstairs was so noisy.

It was a day before the fourteenth in February, not understanding why the place was full of schoolgirls (and boys). There were a few other older patrons, who struggled to keep their cool in the disoriented mess of the area.

Your mother handled it like a champ, with your dad occasionally coming out to help. Other than that, he’d stay out back, cleaning the flowers and making sure they look presentable.

The shipments were hours late—usually they would arrive at night the day before, so your parents could take care of the flowers before the shop opened at 9am the next day.

Black and white was something you were used to at seven years old. You assumed the world worked that way, though you don’t miss the way your mother would always ask if there was anything you were curious about.

“Dad? Do you need any help?”

He shoots a small smile, messing up your bed hair even further. “No, it’s okay. Go upstairs and rest, I’m sorry that the shop is so noisy. That’s why you came down, isn’t it?”

You nod your head, peeking around to see your mom scurrying from the cash register to the customers, her feet never resting from the busy crowd outside shooting flowers and colours, left and right.

Asters, Orchids, Bellflowers, Poppies were flowers at the top of your head when your mom asked you about the flowers you knew, but those other words the customers had shouted out still felt unfamiliar on your tongue.

“Ye-llow…?” You mumbled, looking up at your mother one weekend at twelve years old.

“Yeah, just like that. I’ve drawn suns with a yellow crayon. There are bananas and taxis as well. Do you remember sunflowers?”

“The TV show or the flower?”

Your mother grins at that, “the flower.” You nod enthusiastically, cleaning up the papers and stationary you used for your homework.

“Sunflowers are yellow, too.” A large flower comes into view, with pointy petals and a fuzzy middle.

To you, it seemed like a boring painting of black and white, but the way your mom described it made it seem like it was the most beautiful thing (“After roses, of course,” she’d say.)

“Yellow is the colour of warmth and positivity. It can feel like two different things, a comforting hug and… a laugh, perhaps.”

Your head tilted as she continued to explain the colour, giving you an exaggerated shrug when she reached the extremes of her explanation.

“It’s hard to explain colours, hun. I’ll try my best, but the feeling when you experience it for yourself? Wow. I hope you’ll have that feeling in years to come.”

And so, at twenty years old, you were going to, soon, but not in the way you expected it to go.

・．━━━━━━━━━━━━━━．・

“You want me to what?” You ask through the phone, annoyed enough that you’ve already been interrupted from your university project.

It was vexing enough that this person had to call your personal phone, possibly finding it on the website of your mother’s shop.

She claimed that it was only ‘integrity and generosity’ that she put everyone’s numbers since the shop (and the shop’s phone line) was closed on Sundays except for patrons picking up their orders.

“Remember that dark-haired boy who came to collect the flowers from you last weekend?” Racking your brain for any memory of the boy, you struggle to match the description to a face as the person on the the end brushes it off and continues.

Your eyes soften and your features fall, however, when he speaks in a quiet voice.

“Our friend, he’s- he’s in the hospital. The flowers were meant for him… he loves it by the way. He likes the way the flowers feel on his skin, as weird as it sounds.” The male laughs quietly at the memory, getting back to the reason of why he contacted you.

“He wants to meet you.” he says quietly, not knowing what reaction to expect.

“But why?”

“He says he’s annoyed of hearing his member’s voices all day, quote unquote,” he jokes at another memory, “no, but, he wants to meet whoever did the bouquet. He wants to thank you personally, I’m assuming. Not sure why he waited a week to tell me this though…”

“Oh, okay, when?”

“Now?” He says timidly, bracing himself for an incoming argument due to the last minute news.

“He’s not creepy or anything, right?”

“Jaemin? No, definitely not. Just a little loud and outgoing—I’m not sure how he’s doing now considering his- state, though so uhh…”

Jaemin, huh? Why did it sound so familiar yet foreign?

“And- and, the same boy from last week will be picking you up so don’t worry about it.”

“This sounds like straight up kidnapping.” You whisper into the receiver, getting a buzz from your phone right after.

“What did you send me?” You asked cautiously, finger hovering over the chat as the green bar the top of your phone glared back at you, signalling that the call was on speaker.

His voice came through the speaker, reassuring you that it was not a picture of his privates. You gulped anxiously. With the amount stories online, you’d know better than to open a chat from a man who you didn’t know.

You did it anyway out of curiosity.

Cracking an eye open was a relief, seeing that the picture was only a selfie of the dark-haired boy and probably the person on the other end of the line.

“He looks like this! Ring any bells?” He asks just as the door swings open from a customer.

Holding up a hand, you politely ask the newcomer to wait as you squint your eyes at the boy in the picture who supposedly came here to collect the bouquet.

Double takes help, because the person who matched the picture was standing in front of you, separated by the counter.

“Oh… I didn’t think you’d come so soon.”

Another ding! interrupts your surprise, looking back at the chat as the photo loaded.

“Here’s another of Jaemin with the flowers, though his face isn’t in it—he insists he looks bad in the hospital gown which I agree on.”

You can sense the other rolling his eyes, wondering if the conversation was going to end.

“You’re overwhelming the girl, Hyuck, just hang up.” His voice is gentle but stern, putting his hands together in an apology after the other hangs up with an irritated “okay fine!”

“I’m sorry for him, he can be a little annoying at times.”

“I heard that!” The other fires back, though you swore you heard the beep; maybe you heard wrong.

“Donghyuck!”

“Okay, I’m going! Sheesh.”

The boy looks at you with watchful eyes, wondering how’d you react to this whole situation.

“You can’t see colour, yet, can you?” He asks suddenly.

“Wh- are you doubting my arranging skills?”

“Wait! Wait no- I’m just asking… and yes, the flowers might have been a little mismatched- but it was fine! It’s fine—I don’t think Jaemin minds.” He saves himself, two hands outstretched in surrender.

“Why doesn’t he?” You ask curiously, head tilting to the side as you lock up the register.

Your question remains unanswered, however, as his eyes trail from your face to the flowers behind you. He seemed nervous to answer that one question.

Shaking your head, you mutter a ‘never mind’ and head upstairs to grab your things and change into a more presentable outfit.

The ride was smooth, with a small exchange of what to expect at the hospital. You learn that his name is Jeno, making note of the black hair and the little mole beside his right eye, as well as his polite smile which made you feel at ease.

“Jaemin’s sweet, he’ll talk to you like you aren’t a stranger, so you don’t have to worry about being awkward.”

“He’s funny too, always making weird noises and stuff like that. Don’t mention that I’m saying all these though, I’ll never hear the end of it.”

You laugh at that last part, because you definitely don’t want your friends to know how fondly you speak of them when they’re absent.

When you arrive, however, you can feel your hands becoming clammy and damp, the keychain on your bag having suffered enough from your fidgeting fingers.

He’s someone I don’t know, why is it making me jumpy and jittery?

The antiseptic smell of the hospital did nothing for you, wringing your hands together and hoping it’d calm your heart down.

“She’s here, Jaemin.”

The male on the bed breaks conversation, turning to you and pointed to the flowers on the bedside table excitedly. He’s not exactly facing the door… though.

Oh.

They flow in like a rush of adrenaline, with the feeling of dizziness when you stand up too fast.

They emerge in small spots and then spread out to every inch of the room and although you’re in room with four white walls, your eyes immediately drift to the flowers you arranged for the boy and back to him.

His hair is a bright pink, I think, and his smile is brighter than the sun. His eyes look like the colourless crescent at night and he makes me feel like the colour yellow.

You recall your mom describing yellow as a warm, positive colour, her words ringing true.

Purples and blues on the other boys’ clothing, as well as a bright orange on one’s head. There was a lovely lime green cardigan on Jeno and a red flannel on another boy.

There’s notes forming in your head on the different shades appearing, the imaginary pencil scribbling and scribbling until your hand hurts and the words are messy.

You take baby steps towards the male, and although his eyes aren’t directed at you, you can feel the pull of his heart on yours.

“Hi,” you mumble softly, approaching his bed before noticing the white over his eyes.

The other members make space immediately, stumbling over each other to give their friend his privacy.

“Hey, I’m Jaemin. Not the best time to be meeting your soulmate, huh.” He grins, feeling around for your hand before relaxing as your fingers tighten around his.

“I guess not—I’m (Y/N).” You whisper, the other hand hovering over his cheek, “may I?”

You expect him to ask about what you meant, but instead he just nods his head. Jaemin was a little surprised at the contact, but trusts you either way.

The way Jaemin looks at you breaks your heart, because his eyes are soft and his smile brought down a notch. He looks at you like you’re his whole world although that ability’s been taken away from him.

“There’s minimal colours in my eyes right now. It’s so faded and it’s going to go back to black soon, I think.” Jaemin states sadly, his thumb stroking over your skin gently.

Almost. The ability’s deteriorating right now.

“I don’t deny how I felt when you walked in, though. I think the colours are beautiful, and you are beautiful. You’re fading… too.”

“Is it? Do you want me to tell you about colours, then?” Asking softly, you scoot your chair closer to him as your hands twine with the other’s.

And so, you describe to him the colours of the rainbow and the colours of his friends’ clothing.

The colours of your university project and the colours of the hospital gown on him.

The colours of the mismatched flowers and the colours of how he makes you feel.

・．━━━━━━━━━━━━━━．・

“Babe?” Jaemin calls out softly, feeling the rustle of the sheets and the dip of the bed. He relaxes as always when he feels his hand in yours.

“Hey, Jaem, I’m here.” Whispering wasn’t uncommon between the two of you, exchanging shared stories in the night or laughing about the members in hushed tones.

It prevented the boy from getting too startled, so you always spoke with a quiet tone. Once you knew Jaemin was comfortable, you’d continue in a normal voice.

Sometimes, he’d be louder than you.

“Baby,” Jaemin mumbles softly, curling an arm around your waist as he settles in the crook of your neck, “could you describe the colours for me again?”

He feels the weight of your smile on his faded pink hair, getting comfortable before you start out with the colour he likes the most—Pink.

“Pink’s like being playful at a picnic in the summer and it’s also the colour of your hair! It’s fading, though.” You take the chance to mess it up further, getting a whine and a giggle from the boy.

“It’s also very soft and cotton candy-ish and it’s kinda a compulsory colour if you want to get a nice sunset picture.”

“Pink is really sweet, too, it feels like that bus ride home after meeting your crush while you listen to a playlist.”

Jaemin gives you small kisses as you carry on to red.

“Red’s the popular colour in Valentine’s Day, alongside pink. It’s passionate and fiery and strong; maybe like your desire for strawberry yoghurt.”

The male sits up to glare at wherever he assumed your face was, only coming back down to your embrace when you surrendered with a laugh.

“Your tastebuds are still hella weird though, babe.”

You know he’s rolling his eyes by the way he smiles, simply squeezing your hand in warning of your insults.

“Okay okay! Now’s blue.”

“Blue’s calm and free, like the ocean and the sky, perhaps. I don’t feel sad looking at blue, though it is a mesmerising colour to stare at and get lost in.”

“You’ll feel like everything’s going to be okay when you look at the colour blue, I think.”

“God, I don’t think that’s the case because of Jeno’s hideous blue plaid shirt from before.” Jaemin mumbles into your neck, moving closer to your body, as if it was even possible.

You grin at the insult to his band mate. “Oh. shut up, I think he looked fine in it.” With eyes drifting to the boy below you, you await any word or reaction from him before receiving none, deciding to head on to the next colour.

“Damn, I can’t remember much about orange, though. It’s been so long since I helped out in my mom’s shop. I’ll google.”

“What- no that’s cheating!” Jaemin giggles, smacking your waist repeatedly.

“The colour orange is stimulating and vibrant and it’s associated with sunshine, creativity and health.” You read like you would with an important piece of text while switching off the device. Green.

“Green’s very nature-ish… and refreshing! Oh! And it’s natural too, because it takes up most of the spectrum’s space of the human eye. If pink’s the playful nature at a picnic, then I feel like green would be the opposite, like cherry blossoms against a field, maybe.”

“Green’s also the colour of your fans. So it might bring you a sense of love and warmth as opposed to textbook meanings. I know it does, for me.”

“Because you’re a dedicated Czennie?” Jaemin teases with the same kisses from before. He feels you nod, “of course!”

“Purple’s also an essential colour if you want nice sunset pictures. It just fits with pink. You can still feel calm with purple but theres this urgency about it? Like it’s telling you to get up and travel instead of staying home.”

“That description was lame, wasn’t it?” Sighing, your boyfriend hums into your neck—a neutral response.

“Yellow are taxis and bananas and the colour of my phone at the moment. There’s also corn and suns and sunflowers.”

Yellow is the colour of warmth and positivity. It can feel like two different things, a comforting hug and… a laugh, perhaps.

You smile at the memory in the shop. “Yellow’s kinda like two separate things, for me. It’s like a warm hug and a loud, optimistic laugh.”

“Are you using the same description from the hospital from months ago?” Jaemin grinned for the umpteenth time that night while you replies with a laugh, loving the feel of his wide smile on your neck.

You plant a kiss on his forehead, then, the scented shampoo of his hair lingered in the air like perfume.

“It was my mom’s description! I just happen to agree with it, okay.”

“To be fair, yellow was the last of the colours I’d seen before everything went black. Weren’t you wearing a yellow dress that day?”

There’s a fond smile on your face as you both sink down onto the pillows from your sitting position, giving him a peck on the lips.

“Close. It was a top. Do you wanna see me in a dress that bad?”

“Maybe.” Jaemin beamed, with hopeful and happy eyes.

You keep quiet after that, playing with the hair of your lover’s while your head now takes its place in the crook of his neck.

“I love you.” It’s quiet and tranquil in the room, slow breaths that seem like one.

“I love you too. More than ever, Jaemin.” You remove yourself from his embrace and cup his face in your hands.

“I love you so much, I hope you never forget that.” Whispering the confession, as you always did, made the moment a tad bit sweeter and meaningful.

And while you were happy to see the boy burst out in laughter from the Dreamies’ bickering or the joke you found online, there’s going to be doubts and vulnerability.

While Jaemin’s mind turned inside out with the turmoil of this new obstacle, you were there to make sure he never spirals and falls too deep.

There were and there will be more days when he feels like the world is against him and that he feels so goddamn lost in this world where he’s supposed to see the beauty of colours, where he’s supposed to see you.

You are his rock to hold on to when the world feels a bit dizzy, as are his feet. You’re the sunshine in a dark world where black never leaves his vision.

You’re that comforting hug and boisterous laugh.

You’re his Yellow.

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deathonyourtongue · 4 years

Text

Willow Run | Ch. 2

Summary: On a horse ranch in Texas, life is far simpler than on the streets of Bakubah, but Syverson has a bad habit of taking in strays of all kinds, no matter what demons may be after them. Pairing: Captain Syverson x OFC Word Count: 3.3K Warnings: Nothing in this chapter. A/N: You guys!!!! Thank you so much for all the love you’ve shown on this fic! It means a lot and I appreciate each and every one of y’all! CHAPTER 1 |

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Wolf did the trick, and though it took her an extra moment to be convinced, Sasha allowed Syverson to carry her inside, the house blessedly cool thanks to an HVAC system that had been retrofitted a few years prior.

Once inside, Syverson set her onto one of the high chairs that took up one side of the kitchen counter. Like most everything else in the house, the kitchen was bright, airy and spacious. Curiously, the appliances seemed to come straight from the past; the sink, the fridge, even the oven all dated back to at least the fifties in appearance though they had all been fitted with new technology.

"Bathroom's just down at the end of the hall if you need it. Lemme just wash my hands and I'll fix somethin' up real quick," he explained, pointing down the hall before moving to the old farmhouse sink to start washing up.

As he prepped, the sound of two sets of paws grew louder and louder, nails clicking on the hardwood flooring. A quick glance over his shoulder and Syverson's smile grew tenfold, although he quickly took action, blocking the path of the two puppies who were eager not only for scraps, but to find out who the new human was.

"You're not afraid of dogs, are you? I completely forgot, I'm so sorry," he stammered, Syverson starting to herd them back towards his office which was just a few steps away from the kitchen. One of them was clearly the boss as he pushed right past Syverson with an upturned nose, trotted over to Sasha, sat down and grunted as though asking her who she was. Syverson chuckled, a little embarrassed as he turned his attention to the little mastiff, picking him up easily before tucking him into his chest.

"Don't mind the grunting. He does that when he wants something from someone."

The other dog, a hearty little guy, followed his buddy's example and sat down next to Sasha’s feet, looking up at her with curiosity.

"This is Hudson, and that down there, is Goliath," he introduced, each dog making a noise as his name was called. "They're strays. Up on all their shots though. Perks of knowing a vet."

Syverson set the puppy down just as a third set of paws clipped along the ground, the sound much heartier than either of the two pups. Although curious about the newcomer, the older dog simply sniffed at Sasha’s general direction before sitting down in her dog bed by the back door of the kitchen. With age came wisdom, and the four year old German Shepard knew full well her owner never went a morning meal without giving her at least a piece of bacon.

“And this beautiful lil’ lady is Aika. She’s been with me since...For a long time,” he asserted, catching himself before divulging information he wasn’t sure Sasha was ready to hear yet. Given her injuries, he wouldn’t have been surprised if she believed the stereotype of military men being prone to violence. Keeping it to himself was his best option at the moment.

“They’re all so cute!” Sasha smiled, her eyes still bright, every moment that passed leaving her feeling more and more relaxed around Syverson, something she didn’t even notice as she watched the puppies frolic around Aika, who paid them no heed and let them bounce all over her and her very comfy-looking bed.

After making sure the puppies wouldn’t get into any mischief while he cooked, Syverson washed his hands again, drying off before extending a hand to Sasha.

“I never did get your name,” he smiled sheepishly.

“Oh, right. It’s Sasha. Sasha Bettencourt. How ‘bout you?”

“Kyle Syverson. You can just call me Sy, though. Everyone does.” Shaking hands with Sasha, he couldn’t help but let his smile get a little bigger, mirroring the one he was getting from the young woman.

“Sy, can I use your bathroom?” Sasha asked once they’d let go of each other's hands, her own expression slightly embarrassed since she knew just how dirty she was. Given what the house looked like both inside and out, she couldn’t imagine the bathroom being anything less than spotless.

“Of course!” Syverson said, moving around the counter in a hurry, ready to steady her as she got down off the chair. “You alright to make it there on your own?” He asked, the concern returning to his expression as he waited to see if she’d drop like she had outside. “Take your time,” he told her gently, the words spoken not only as a warning not to walk quickly, but as a reminder that she no longer needed to rush now that she was safe and out of the sun.

Testing her legs, Sasha found them working well enough and with a nod, she ambled her way down, relieved to have her body functioning at least somewhat close to normal again. Finding the door easily enough, Sasha closed and locked it behind her, taking a moment just to breathe. Looking at her reflection in the mirror, she was surprised Syverson had let her anywhere near his property, let alone inside his house. Gruesome was putting it mildly.

The bathroom was charming and just as beautifully-appointed as the rest of the house. Sasha wondered, not for the first time, if Syverson had a wife who’d done all the decorating. For a man who was so, well, masculine, the house screamed of a woman’s touch. She reminded herself to ask him after she got out.

Though she was only planning on washing her face, Sasha took one look at the sunflower-sized shower head that sat on top of the clawfoot tub and was taking off her dirty clothes without a second thought.

Syverson heard the shower going and couldn’t help but smile; he'd have done the exact same thing. Shaking his head, he began preparing breakfast for two; something he hadn’t done in a long time.

Soon enough, Sy was operating at full steam. Eggs in a skillet, hash browns frying and sausages turning a delicious golden brown. He managed everything with the ease of someone who'd taken classes at the very least and as he worked, he sang an unrecognizable tune, the soft smile never leaving his face. It was easy for anyone to see that the man was at peace in his own home, and that he wasn't the type to sit idly for any length of time.

As the cool water poured over her still-overheated skin, Sasha couldn’t help but sigh in utter contentment, finding her muscles truly loosening and the panic in her veins dissipating for the first time all day. She’d unknowingly walked to a haven, and while she still felt guilty for putting Sy out, especially since he was out there cooking her breakfast, Sasha vowed not to be so hurried to leave if he didn’t want her to.

There was one stark problem that Sasha only realized once she got out of the shower; she had no clean clothes to wear. Feeling stupid for her lack of foresight, she begrudgingly put her dirty clothes back on after quickly shaking them off in the tub, hoping to get at least some of the dust off. Though she felt a million times better, memories of the road still clung to her, leaving Sasha pensive and quiet as she left the bathroom.

“Feelin’ better, mama?” Sy asked with a wry smile, his back still to her as he began to plate breakfast, giving both plates a generous helping of eggs, sausage, hashbrowns and pancakes. Though Sy was known to eat like a horse, he never worried about his portions, knowing he’d work it all off down at the stables.

“I’m sorry. I just...I was so dirty.” Sasha stammered, looking as though she’d stolen something out of the house, even though she’d done nothing of the sort.

Turning, he gave her a bright smile which quickly turned into an impressed look at the visible difference. She was beautiful, even with all the cuts and bruises that marred her otherwise-smooth skin.

"It-It's no problem. Should've told me, I would've grabbed you some clothes to wear while I threw yours in the wash," he answered after coming back to his senses, Syverson shaking his head as though he'd been startled out of a dream.

A closer inspection of her clothes showed that the washer wouldn't do much good. Tattered and dirty as they were, she was better off throwing them out. Syverson knew it probably wouldn't happen though, as girls were attached to their clothing like guys were attached to their cars. Still, he would broach the topic again after they'd eaten.

"Here we go. One Syverson special, on the bar," he grinned at her as he slid her plate in front of her seat at the kitchen counter, Sy setting his own plate down next to hers. Grabbing his coffee, a glass of orange juice for her, and a bottle of his favorite hot sauce, Sy made sure the salt, pepper, syrup, and napkins were all within reach before taking his seat.

“Go on, dig in,” He urged, pointing at Sasha’s plate with his chin, Syverson wondering when the last time she ate was. She was thin, almost alarmingly so, and aside from her swollen belly, there wasn’t nearly enough meat on her bones to be carrying another human. If she stayed, Syverson knew he’d see to it personally that she ate her three squares a day, and that she got as many nutrients as she needed to grow the little one inside her.

Tentatively, Sasha took a bite of the pancake first, hers slathered in syrup the same way Sy’s were, something she thought endearing. Her eyes rolled back and she practically swooned as the familiar taste hit her tongue, Sasha melting a little in her seat.

“This is really good,” she managed to say after swallowing, her face showing nothing but awe that Sy had made it all himself. Where she came from, men were never in the kitchen unless they were getting a beer. It shocked her, to say the least.

“Thank you, again, for all of this. I don’t...I don’t have any way of repaying you,” Sasha murmured after another bite, looking up at Sy with regret. She had to do something in return for all his generosity, she just didn’t know what she’d be able to manage, given she’d left her home with just the shirt on her back.

“There’s no need, honest. I’m not doing this ‘cause I’m lookin’ for something in return. I’m doing it ‘cause it’s the right thing to do. Couldn’t just leave ya to burn to death out there. What kinda animal would I be if I did that? Nah, no repayment necessary, mama. Just...don’t go walkin’ into the middle ‘a nowhere without water and cover again. That’s all I ask,” Syverson replied, biting his tongue to keep from saying what he actually wanted to say, knowing that doing so would spook her. Asking a near-stranger to stay as long as she needed and not worry about lifting a finger while doing so usually didn’t go over well in most circles.

They ate in silence for a bit, Sasha taking in the house and occasionally slipping a bit of food to one of the dogs, making sure Sy wasn’t looking while she did so.

“Your home is beautiful. Looks like it’s straight out of a magazine,” she mused, blushing slightly when she realized how silly she must’ve sounded.

"Thank you. It belonged to my parents, but they've decided to live the high life down in Florida now. Boating, fishing, tanning, the usual retirement stuff. They visit every now and then, but they've got their own little house not far from here, so the place is all mine," he replied with a big smile, Syverson not even realizing that he was divulging so much information in one answer. Despite years of military training on how to keep mum about personal and secure information, at home, Syverson was an open book who wore his heart on his sleeve.

“As for it lookin’ like it’s out of a magazine...Well, that’s ‘cause it’s been in a few. Couple ‘a years back, some hoity toity types came and shot the place. It ended up in a few rags. Mom’s got ‘em all stashed away somewhere.”

Feeling brave when her comment wasn’t met with ridicule, Sasha remembered her question from earlier, a smirk crossing her face as she spoke.

“I find it really hard to believe it’s just you here.”

Sy laughed heartily at the idea of there being someone else on the ranch. Sure he occasionally had help (aside from his two stable hands), especially during foaling season, but that usually just consisted of his friends coming down for a few days.

"It's just me, the dogs, and the horses. I’ve got some guys that help with the stables, but they don’t live here," he assured her, shaking his head in amusement before taking another bite.

“It’s just….Well, it’s so clean and decorated so nice,” Sasha said the words without thinking, instantly looking down and away, fully expecting that she’d offended him by assuming he couldn’t look after himself.

“The place has a woman’s touch ‘cause my mom decorated it and I couldn’t be bothered to change it. As for the cleaning, well, I don’t like livin’ in filth any more than anyone else, so I clean a bit everyday and by the end of the week, everything’s spick and span. It becomes a routine after a while.” Sy chuckled, answering the underlying question of why it didn’t look like every bachelor pad ever.

Sasha grinned, blushing as she nodded her understanding. “I figured you had a wife, but mom works too.”

“Yeah, don’t got one of those.” Syverson shook his head, eyebrows going up comically as he finished his last bite.

“What? You have something against the institution of marriage?” Sasha laughed.

“First off, calling it an ‘institution’ makes it sound like a loony bin. Secondly, I have nothing against it. All the women I’ve dated have seemed to hate the idea though, hence no ring.” He explained with a shrug, giving her a wink as he stood and loaded his plate into the dishwasher before leaning against the other side of the counter, waiting for Sasha to finish her own meal.

“I’m gonna go get Wolf, as promised. Stay here where it’s nice and cool, and I’ll come grab ya when I’m back.” Sy explained once she was done, taking her plate and swapping it for a glass of water, the liquid cool enough to make the glass sweat near-instantly. Sasha nodded, the excitement returning to her eyes at the prospect of meeting the horse.

Slipping on his boots, Sy stopped and gave Aika a piece of sausage before giving her the command to stay. Though his eldest dog usually followed him everywhere, he wanted her to look after Sasha while he was gone, if only for his own peace of mind.

Sy took the ATV down to the stables and made quick work of tacking up Wolf, speaking to the horse in gentle, hushed tones the whole time.

“There’s someone I want you to meet, bud. You gotta be gentle, ‘cause she’s hurt pretty bad, okay?” He said once he’d given the straps one last check, smiling up at his Friesian and giving him a good pat to the shoulders. Climbing on, gave the stable a quick check before riding out, going an easy pace until he crested the hill.

Sasha knew she should have waited inside, but curiosity got the better of her and she wandered out, wanting to see Syverson come up from the stables. She wasn’t disappointed at what she saw. With his red plaid shirt, fitted jeans, boots, and baseball cap, he was every inch the modern cowboy and Sasha couldn’t stop the butterflies that filled her stomach even if she’d wanted to.

Sy saw her the moment he got to the top of the hill and with a shake of his head and a beaming smile, he signaled Wolf to gallop, knowing he had plenty of time to slow down before he hit the house. There was no feeling like riding a horse at full speed, and never once did Sy think he’d grow tired of the exhilaration it brought; it was better than any rollercoaster and no one could tell him different.

“Didn’t I tell you to stay inside, mama?” He called as he came within earshot, Sy slowing Wolf with ease and grace, the two coming to a full stop a few steps from the porch.

Blushing but smiling ear-to-ear, Sasha nodded, knowing she’d been caught.

“I couldn’t help it. I wanted to see y’all two coming down the hill.” She admitted, taking slow, tentative steps towards the massive horse and his equally big rider.

“Like you would a dog. Palm up, let ‘im give you a sniff,” Sy instructed gently, patting Wolf’s neck as he watched Sasha approach.

“Hi, Wolf. You’re a very handsome boy,” Sasha smiled, extending her hand and giggling softly when Wolf sniffed at it with enthusiasm. After a moment, Wolf nuzzled first at Sasha’s face and then at her belly, seeming to know that the new person Sy had been talking about was carrying another person with her.

Sy’s smile was sappy as he watched the interaction, knowing for certain that if his favorite horse liked Sasha, then she was good people. Horses never had a reason to feign affection, and they were smart enough to only offer it when the person was right. By Wolf’s account, Sasha was second only to Sy himself.

“He likes you,” Sy murmured, adjusting one of Wolf’s long braids, letting Sasha take her time.

“Feeling’s mutual, isn’t it, Wolf?” Sasha beamed, nodding her head in time with Wolf, laughing happily when the horse let his head slump onto her shoulder.

“Alright, that’s enough there, mister. Layin’ it on a lil’ thick,” Sy joked, patting his neck, his eyes never once leaving Sasha’s smile; he wouldn’t admit to being smitten just yet, but her having Wolf’s approval didn’t hurt matters in the slightest.

“I gotta get the rest of the bunch turned out to pasture. I’ll be back around one for lunch, but until then, why don’t you head on in and have a rest? There’s clean clothes in the laundry room if you wanna change into something a lil’ more comfortable. Pretty sure there’s some basketball shorts in there with a drawstring so they don’t fall off ya,” Sy gave her a wink, “and if you wanna take a dip, the pool’s good to go, though I don’t got a bathin’ suit for ya, unfortunately.”

As he spoke, he turned on a pair of walkie-talkies, Syverson bending down to hand Sasha one. “Keep this close, and just press the button to talk. I’ve got mine on my belt, so I’ll hear ya no matter what. Just lay back and relax. You’re good here, for however long you need.”

By the time he was finished speaking, Sasha had tears of gratitude in her eyes, and giving Wolf a final scratch to his nose, she nodded, managing to give her rescuer a big smile.

“Thank you. So much,” she whispered, not trusting her voice to get louder. Sy nodded, his eyes gentle and understanding. A moment of silent connection passed between them before Sy clicked his teeth and tugged at the rein, turning Wolf with ease.

“No walkin’ out in the sun, mama. I mean it!” Sy called over his shoulder with a wide grin, waving as he nudged Wolf back into a full gallop, the pair making it up the hill in no time at all before disappearing over the horizon, leaving Sasha with a warmth that spread throughout every fiber of her being, a feeling she hadn’t experienced in years.

#henry cavill #syverson x ofc #captain syverson #captain syverson fic #fic #deathonyourtongueoriginals #willow run

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buckyodinson · 4 years

Note

If you take request, can you do one with Whiskey? The reader is an agent that is the crush of Whiskey and he tries to ask her out, but she thinks that he is only a player so reject him every time. She end up hurt badly during a mission and he saves her and host her in his ranch for the recovery. He tries to confesshis feelings to her and so it is fluffy and smutty if u do it 🥺

Recovery

You sighed as you looked up from your computer and watched Whiskey approach your office, bracing yourself for the inevitable flurry of compliments and flirty comments that were about to be thrown your way. He was charming, you’d give him that. But you’d heard the rumours about Whiskey, and didn’t want your name involved with any of them.

He knocked on your open door and smiled when you gestured for him to come in, “Hey, sugar.” he drawled and you had to refrain from rolling your eyes.

“What can I help you with, Jack?” you roll your chair back slightly as he rounds your desk and perches on the corner of it.

“How’s about we go for a drink tonight? Just you and me?” he winks and you sigh.

“Jack. You already know my answer.”

“You might wanna reconsider.” he smirks as he holds a file out to you.

You take it from him, and you see that you and Whiskey have been assigned to a recon mission tonight, in a bar. You inwardly cringe, knowing Jack will almost certainly play up the flirty behaviour while in the bar.

“I guess I’ll see you tonight then, Jack.”

“I’ll pick you up at 8, doll.” he winks at you once more and walks out of your office.

You groan and rub your eyes as you pore over the file in front of you, preparing for tonight.

It was supposed to be a simple mission. You were to go to the bar, which was a front for mob activity, and Whiskey was supposed to pick a fight with someone, to give you a small window of time to break into the back office and steal the data you needed from their system. It sounded easy enough on paper, but the whole mission was compromised within an hour of being in the bar. You were supposed to spend at least a good hour or two surveying the bar, working out your strategy before you initiated anything. You and Jack were sat in a booth, his arm wrapped around your shoulders, and he’d press his lips to your temple every so often as you chatted, so if anyone was watching, you just seemed like a regular couple out for a few drinks.

It all went downhill, however, when Jack went up to the bar to get another round, and a man came and sat himself down in Jack’s spot, “Why don’t you let me take you home and show you a real good time, instead of that hillbilly you came here with?” you laughed at him calling Jack a hillbilly, since this guy had a much stronger southern accent than Jack.

“No thank you.” you threw a smile at him and tried to shuffle away from him, but he grabbed your arm and tried to pull you towards him again.

“Get off of me, asshole!” you hissed and before you knew it, you’d slapped him across the face. He flinched back, shocked at your action, and you notice lots of people have turned to look at you. Shit. This could’ve blown the whole mission.

“You heard the lady. How’s about you fuck off and be on your way?” You were relieved to see Jack hovering by your table, drinks in hand, as he stared down the guy sat next to you, who’s face was growing redder by the second.

“And what are you gonna do about it?” the guy slurs as he stands up and plants himself in front of Jack, trying to act tough.

Jack takes a sip of his drink before putting the glasses down on the table and he turns to you briefly and winks, “Go out to the truck, baby. I’ll be out in a minute.”

You grab your bag and walk away as you hear the commotion behind you, and you give a quick glance around before slipping down the hallway to the office that you’d noticed when you went to the bathroom earlier. You opened the door and saw a man sat at the desk in the middle of the room, he glared at you and you squeaked out a slurred “I’m s-so sorry sir! I thought this was the ladies room!” before giggling and covering your mouth with your hands, subtly shifting your watch to face him.

He visibly relaxes and smiles, “That’s okay, darlin’. Head back a few doors and you’ll find what you’re looking for. Just close this door on your way out.”

“Of course! And sorry again!” you smile and press the button on your watch that activates it’s flash. You slam the door behind you and rush up to the desk, grabbing the dazed man and putting him in a chokehold as you grabbed a sedative from your bag and injected him with it. He thrashed for a few more seconds before going limp in your arms and falling into a pile on the floor.

You fished the thumb-drive out of your bag and made quick work of downloading everything from the computer. As you watch the files being downloaded, you look over at a screen that shows the CCTV from the bar, and you can see that the fight is still raging, and you can’t help but notice how attractive Jack looks using his lasso. While you have a spare minute, you go to the trouble of turning the recording off and deleting the footage that had already been recorded over the last few hours. You can still see what’s going on around the bar, but it’s no longer recording anything, so now they can’t watch this back and see you and Jack slip out.

You watch the thumb-drive percentage climb until it reaches 100% and you put it safely into your bag. On the CCTV screen, you notice a man approaching the hallway and coming towards you. You mess up your hair a little bit and smudge your lipstick before opening the door and closing it behind you, acting shocked when you bumped into the man in the corridor.

“Oh! You uh- you might wanna give him a minute, he’s uhh... he’s cleaning himself up.” you give him a suggestive look and realisation dawns on his face once he takes in your disheveled appearance. You slip past him, making your way back to the bar where the brawl had since calmed down, noticing Jack and the man had been thrown outside to deal with their problems, along with a few other men who’d joined in the fight. You walked out of the bar to go flag Jack down, but as you approached the crowd of men, you were shoved to the ground from behind. You quickly made to stand again when the man behind you pulled out a gun and shot you in the knee.

You went down immediately and the noise drew the attention of Jack and the other men. While the men were all fighting one another moments ago, there was an unspoken agreement to chase after this guy and teach him a lesson. Jack rushed over to you and picked you up, carrying you to his truck. He laid you in the back and quickly jumped in front and high-tailed it back to headquarters, calling to get a medical team ready for your arrival.

He paced the hallways of the medical wing the entire time your knee was being operated on. He couldn’t get the image of you in the backseat of his truck, bleeding profusely, out of his mind. Champ had come down to check on you, and he attempted to calm Jack’s nerves, but he couldn’t stop worrying.

Champ eventually got Jack to stop pacing for a few minutes, and gestured for him to sit down next to him in the chairs of the waiting room, “She’s gonna be signed off of field work for the meantime, until her knee is fully healed. She’ll be on bed-rest for at least the next two weeks.”

“Good.”

“Usually that’d mean you’d step up and assume some of her responsibilities. However, seeing the state this has put you in, I’m gonna be very generous and sign you off for this week too. You’re only gonna get yourself into shit out in the field if you’re too busy thinking about her.” he gave Jack a knowing look, and Jack sighed, letting Champ continue.

“So once she’s out of surgery and cleared to go home, you’re gonna go with her and keep her company.” Jack’s raised his eyebrows in shock, and he felt a little more relaxed than a few minutes prior. “By next week, we’ll see how things are looking here, and that’ll determine whether we need you back straight away or not.” Champ stands up and holds his hand out.

“Thank you, Champ.” Jack shakes Champ’s hand before standing up and pulling the older man into an embrace.

“Take good care of her.”

“I will, sir.” Jack gives a curt nod as Champ leaves.

The prospect of spending the week keeping you company had reduced his stress a little, and he stayed in the waiting room instead of pacing the hallways. His knee bounced as he waited, and he sprung up from his seat when a doctor poked her head into the room and told him you were out of surgery.

He spent the evening sat in the chair next to your bed, and you were initially hesitant about him staying with you for the week, but you soon came round to the idea when you saw how worried he was about you. He eventually went home that night to get ready for the week ahead, and came back to see you the next morning.

You figured he’d come round to your apartment each morning and keep you company throughout the day, but when you were discharged and he walked you to his truck, you were confused when he drove in the opposite direction of your apartment.

“Where are we going, Jack?” you piped up from the back seat where you had your leg propped up on the seats.

“My ranch. I can take better care of you there, compared to your apartment.” he smiled warmly at you in the rear-view mirror and you felt your heart flutter in your chest.

The first few days were a little weird but you slowly got used to the routine of Jack taking care of you. He cooked for you, and pretty much never left your side, constantly checking on you. He slept on the sofa, even though you insisted he should be sleeping in his own bed, but he claimed he was a restless sleeper and might accidentally jostle your knee in his sleep.

Showers were a tad awkward though. You couldn’t get the cast around your knee wet, so he had to help cover it before you could get into the shower. You also couldn’t support yourself without crutches, so he brought one of his patio chairs into the shower so you could sit while you were in there. Once you were done and called for him, he’d bring you a towel and help you out of the chair and into his bedroom. He was a complete gentleman about all of it, which took you a little by surprise. You figured he’d make suggestive comments, but he tried to give you as much privacy as possible, and when he helped you get dressed, he averted his eyes where possible. You couldn’t help but notice the way his cheeks would flush when he was in such close proximity sometimes.

During your time with Jack, you began to realise he wasn’t the man you made him out to be, and you were glad he was the one looking after you. Your feelings for him bloomed as time went on.

He went out for groceries one morning, and in his absence, you hobbled your way to use the bathroom, but one of your crutches slipped once it hit the tile, and you toppled over. You managed not to hit your bad knee on the ground, but pain shot up your leg at the sudden pressure you put on it trying to stay stood up. You cried out in pain and tried to sit up, hissing at the ache that had settled through your body from the fall. There was no way you were going to be able to get up from your spot on the floor without help. Shit. You were just gonna have to wait for Jack to get back.

Thankfully, he returned after only about 20 minutes of you being sat on the floor, and you sighed in relief when you heard the familiar rumble of his truck as he parked outside.

“I’m back!” he called and you heard him shuffling about in the kitchen before you heard the steady thump of his boots as he came into his bedroom.

“I’m in here, Jack.” he heard your dejected voice, and he went into panic mode when he caught sight of your legs sticking out from the bathroom doorway.

“What happened, doll?” his voice was laced with concern, but he had an angry look on his face as he helped pull you to stand, supporting the weight of your leg as he walked you over to the bed.

“I needed the bathroom, and one of my crutches gave out from under me.”

He sighed, “What have I told you?”

“Well I’m sorry I needed to pee, Jack.” you spoke sarcastically, trying to lighten the mood.

“You can’t be doing stuff like that, doll. There’s a reason you’re staying here with me. I’m here to help you.” his tone was serious as he glared at you.

“I’m a grown woman, I can go the bathroom by myself.” you countered.

“I know, but in this state, you can’t. It’s too much stress on your knee.” his voice raised just slightly.

“Why do you care so much? Give it another week and I’ll be back in my apartment and you’ll be free from all my shit again.”

“Because I love you! And it kills me to see you in pain like this!” he didn’t even register what he’d let slip until he saw your shocked expression.

“... you...you love me?”

He just nods solemnly and looks at his feet, wishing the ground underneath him would open up and swallow him.

“Jack, look at me.”

He winces as he looks up at you, and his heart falters at the soft smile on your face, “I love you too, Jack.”

The dumbfounded look on his face pulls a giggle from your throat, and he drops to his knees in front of you, wincing slightly from the impact but shuffling closer to you all the same, “Really?”

“Yeah.” you whisper as you reach for his face and pull him towards you, smiling as he presses his lips to yours. He pulls away, speechless.

“I guess getting shot in the knee worked out pretty well for me.” you snicker at the scowl that overtakes his features, pulling him to you to kiss him again.

#agent whiskey #agent whiskey x reader #jack daniels #jack daniels x reader #pedro pascal x reader #Kingsman: the golden circle #agent whiskey x fem!reader #jack daniels x fem!reader #mentions of violence #gun #blood #injuries #injury #hospital #surgery #operation

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