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buckys-little-belle · 8 months ago

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Hi!! I love your story’s and am always looking for little and daddy Bucky story’s!! I was wondering if you could do insecure reader who’s bigger. She has bigger thighs a bigger tummy and face. Could you do reader is scared to sit on buckys lap or for him to pick her up and carry her around the house. She’s too scared she’s heavy and will crush him and his legs. or that he will drop her because she’s too big. She also never cuddles and sleeps with him in his room always sleeping in her room after he puts her to bed because she’s scared about her breathing or how she sleeps.

Bucky gets her to tell him why and then comfort. Just fluff fluff fluff. If your not comfortable writing this I totally understand!!! If you do could you ad paci use? Thank you!!! Sorry for the rambling…

Strongest Man Alive

Bucky Barnes x Plus Sized!Little!Reader (She/Her Pronouns Used)

Notes - This is not my best work, and has been in my drafts for MONTHS, it's something cute, and a little angsty at the beginning, but it does get super fluffy at the end. It's a little bit different than my usual writting style, so I apologize for that, but I do hope you like it and if not I'm so sorry! I hope I did this ask justice, and I hope everyone is having a good week!!! <3

Warnings - Talks of reader being self conscious for being 'bigger', kept very vague as she uses the words "heavy" and "squishy" to describe her body type instead of more concrete descriptions, the use of a pacifier is very brief as it's something I'm not used to writing, though I would be willing to continue, mentions of reader eating food "snacks" and "sandwich" though never specified, FLUFF at the end, but there is a moment of angst, I DON'T KNOW IF THIS IS A COHEARANT STORY, it's from the drafts and I gave it a once over and I think it's 'good enough' so I apologize if it's terrible <3

SFW - Please keep all interactions with this post, and this blog, SFW.

. ☾ . ☆ . ☽ . ☆ . ☾ . ☆ . ☽ . ☆ . ☾ . ☆ . ☽ .

Y/n often spent their time at the Avengers tower sitting, standing, lingering around Bucky Barnes. It wasn't on purpose, the man just seemed to be the other half of some magnet imbedded deep in Y/n's heart. He just had some ability to pull her towards him.

Maybe it was the way he cut her sandwiches into perfect triangles, or the way his hand always found hers when she got scared. Maybe it was the way he seemed to be reserved around anyone but her that made her feel so connected to him.

He never sulked but always seemed to walk around with a frown stuck on his face, only ever changing it to a smile when she walked by his office or stopped by his room.

As much as Y/n felt like she was pulled to him, Bucky felt it multiplied by 100. His hands always aching to hold hers, his chest always feeling heavy when he began to think about her needing something and him not being around to help her.

The whole tower knew about Y/n's regression. Wanda and Peter often joined in, hanging out in little space and colouring in books Tony had provided, watching whatever new animated movie had just come out and sleeping over in makeshift tents in the living room.

Often other Avengers would help supervise activities, Steve loved playing action fighters in the common areas, Nat loved cuddle puddle on the couch, and Thor was always ready for a park day. Bucky on the other hand liked to stay in the shadows, buying stickers for the group of littles, making them lunch and dropping it off.

Bucky only stuck around if Y/n asked him to hang out with her. "Bucky can you hold my hand?" She had asked him when at the park, he of course grabbed her hand and helped her up the jungle gym.

"Bucky can you open this please?" She had whispered during a movie, her baggie full of snacks too difficult to manage on her own. He opened the baggie and held it in his own grasp, handing her a piece of candy anytime she had finished the previous one.

"Bucky will you colour with me?" She had yelled her ask one day when he was passing by the kitchen, Y/n sat at the island with markers scattered across the marble. He silently sat down and diligently coloured the page she had given him, helping her chase markers that had fallen.

He knew she was comfortable asking for what she wanted, and he knew she wasn't afraid of him ... so, it made his chest tighten every time she asked him to grab something from the top shelf instead of asking to be lifted like Wanda and Peter often asked.

He also felt off every time a little would come running out of their room after a nightmare, rushing into someone's room for a cuddle, yet Y/n's door never opened and neither did his.

Bucky was sure it was his fault she didn't seek him out for cuddles, he thought he had done something wrong when she never asked for a hug. Was it his arm? Was she scared he would turn on her? He couldn't figure it out.

That is until he realised she never asked anyone for a cuddle, or a hug. Nat, Wanda, and Peter would be all comfy on the couch and Y/n would be sat on the chair, a small frown on her face yet she never tried to find a spot next to her friends. And when she scraped her knee on the playground she declined Thor's offer of a "healing" hug.

"Y/n?" His voice was quiet but direct as he called out into the playroom, Y/n sat on the softly coloured rug, her stuffed animals scattered about.

"Hi Bucky!" She smiled, her pacifier tumbling out of her mouth and onto the ground.

"Hi." He sat down across from her, quickly pocketing the fallen pacifier before sought out the, now, dirty thing. "What are you playing?" His hands brushed a stuffed teddy, Y/n tilting her head in confusion as she looked around her.

"'m just dressen 'm up." She smiled at him, grabbing a stuffed unicorn and brushing it's fur back into place, shuffling closer to Bucky as she gathered a few other stuffed animals.

The moment her knees hit his she shifted back, so Bucky shifted his towards her again. Like clockwork she moved and left a small gap between them. "Y/n?"

"Mhm." She looked back at him, her smile one he could easily read through.

"Am I scary?" He asked calmly, not once loosing eye contact as she shook her head 'no'. "Do I smell?" He asked, this time with a laugh.

"No!" She giggled.

"Then why do you run every time I touch you." Instead of answering she bowed her head, hands running over the stuffed animal anxiously. "Why don't you hug Wanda or Peter?" He was worried that all the questions would make her want to run, but as she huffed and leaned into his space slightly he continued. "I know Thor was pretty sad when you declined his hug the other day." That one wasn't a lie, the man had gone on a rant about how he thought he had done something wrong, how he was sure Y/n hated him.

"I jus', I don' want them t' be mad." She admitted, huffing at the end of her sentence. "'m jus', 'm heavy, an' squishy. Wanda and Pete aren't heavy an' squishy." She admitted, eyes locked on the wall, the stuffed unicorn held a little closer to her body.

"What do you mean Baby?" Bucky asked, confused as to what she was alluding to.

"It's harder t' pick me up." She finally looked back at him, tears beginning to gather along her waterline. "And cuddling wif me wouldn' be th' same." She shrugged, trying to play it off like she wasn't bothered by her own words.

The tightness in Bucky's chest didn't ease up with his answer, his worry only growing. He had hoped it was an easy thing to fix, yet knowing Y/n didn't hug her friends, or him, because she felt too big made him hurt. "Baby," He began, not giving Y/n a second to doubt him, he picked her up and sat her in his lap. "you aren't 'too heavy' to pick up." He hated how quickly she curled into his chest, how clear it was that she was missing human connection. "I'm the strongest man alive, and you saying that you're too heavy is going to bruise my ego a bit, Baby." They both laughed, a few of Y/n's tears hitting the fabric of Bucky's shirt.

"I thought Steve was th' strongest man alive?"

"I let him win when we arm wrestle." Bucky admitted, causing Y/n to break out into a fit of giggles.

"'m gonna tell him!" She stood up, bolting for the door.

"Oh no you don't!" Bucky ran after her, lifting her off her feet in the middle of the hallway, Y/n pausing with a gasp, bracing for the two of them to fall, yet laughing along with Bucky as jostled her around, threatening to take her new colouring page off the fridge if she told anyone his secret.

After a pinky promise and some juice Y/n began to trust Bucky a little bit more. She let him pick her up at the playground, and gave him a hug before bed every night. She still worried her hugs were 'bad', that maybe no one would want to hug her because she wasn't 'little' but Bucky never once complained, instead asking for hugs in the morning too.

It took her a while to truly trust that Bucky wasn't lying when he said his back didn't hurt after picking her up, but eventually she became comfortable enough to run and jump into his arms, something she had always dreamed of doing.

It wasn't until a month later that Bucky woke up at 4 am to the sound of Y/n's hurried footsteps rushing to his door. Light creeping in from the opened door she didn't close as she ran to his bed. The sound of soft cries and whispers of "Nightmare" filling the usually quiet space.

Instead of letting her think too much about how she 'should' be cuddling, Bucky just scooped her up and tucked her into his bed, letting her know he'd protect her, and her stuffed animal. He liked having her in his room, it made him feel at ease knowing she was close.

After a few months of staying in Bucky's room, Y/n began to get out of her shell a bit more, hugging Wanda and Peter, and eventually accepting Thor's 'healing' hugs. She finally joined in during the weekly cuddle puddle, laughing along side Nat and her friends as they all got cozy on the couch. And for the first time ever she let someone else, the second strongest man alive, Steve Rogers pick her up. A pride filled movement the man would never forget.

Even though it took her a little longer than everyone else to be comfortable hugging and snuggling, she was happy to finally be apart of the group in ways she wasn't before. Bucky, the man who still often stayed in the shadows, helping from a distance, couldn't help but feel a little lighter every time he saw his girl get over her worries, knowing if anything got to be 'too much' she'd come running to him.

#buckys little belle #anon #age regression #little!reader #age regression fic #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x little!reader #bucky x little!reader #bucky

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ventismacchiato · 2 years ago

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mr. oblivious

The entire staff at the new school you work at consistently attempt at getting you and another rather aloof teacher, Kuni, together after witnessing you interact quite often. The catch is that you both are married, and none of the staff have figured it out, yet.

scaramouche x g!n reader

established relationship, married, modern teacher au

2.7k words

a/n: sorry if it clogs up ur feed 😭 everytime i do the keep reading thing it crashes for me so, transferred from ao3 so if there’s any weird typos lmk

It took about three weeks at your new job for you to notice something was going on with your co-workers, and your students as well to top it off. It was as if they were all in on some inside joke you weren’t a part of, or perhaps the center of it. But that might just be your own insecurities about being the newest teacher at this school.

You had recently been laid off as a literature teacher after working at the same high school for a few years due to lack of budget to support the creative arts.

So, instead of educating high schoolers, you deemed it would be much better to teach a group of younger kids, much easier and stress free. After a couple of weeks you had gotten a job as the Art teacher at the very school your husband worked at thanks to his recommendation. Everyone there was very accepting of you and you felt right at home, for a while at least.

It was much different then being a literature professor for older kids, now you got to do finger painting for a living. And even though your English degree was collecting dust, (you shed a tear at this every night), you were actually enjoying your time teaching for once. Little children were much more bearable than high schoolers. There were no love triangles you had to deal with, kids giving handjobs under the desks, or getting paper planes thrown at you. The most drama that ever happened in your elementary classes was when Timmie wouldn’t share the red crayons with anyone.

Well, you were enjoying it. Past tense.

Ever since you ended up catching teachers and students halting their whispers when you walked by you’ve been rather uneasy.

You brought it up to Kuni during dinner one night and the other male merely shrugged, but that one was on you though. Kuni didn’t interact with any of his co-workers unless he absolutely had to. It was a surprise he was a favorite teacher among the students, unbeknownst to you it was because the children found the male handsome and his teaching style atrocious.

You were surprised to learn none of your co-workers had even held a coherent conversation with Kuni, despite him working there for much of his career. So when Venti, one of the school’s music teachers, let out a gasp at seeing Kuni sitting beside you in the staff room, he was taken aback. Kuni never went out of his way to make new friends, it seems he was content with the little to no socializing he did in college and called it a day.

“So, what’s your secret?” Venti sang, sidling up next to you as he poured himself a cup of coffee, “How’d you get the ever so stoic Kuni to talk to you for longer than a minute?”

“What are you on about?” you chuckled, taking a tentative sip of the hot beverage, you didn’t want to burn your tongue again, it had ruined your entire week last time, “I just talk?”

Venti and you quickly clicked upon your moving careers, there was something calming about the constant chitter chatter that left his mouth. Although, it was also a little annoying at times. Like right now.

“Last time I did that he just glared at me,” Venti dramatically sighed, “Maybe he has his eyes on you.”

“Ooh, are we talking about KuniYn?” Lisa grinned, the actual English teacher, walking into the staff room.

“What the hell is KuniYn?” you questioned, growing uncomfortable, why was everyone obsessing over you and Kuni? Was this their way of welcoming you?

“I’m going to exit this conversation now,” you mumbled, turning around when you bumped into the other half of said conversation.

And to your horror, a little splash of his coffee landed on the other male.

A collective gasp was heard from the staff room, preparing themselves for the ever so aloof male to lash out. Last time Bennett spilled his drink on Kuni the dark-haired male had the entire staff shaking in their seats.

“Careful,” Kuni mumbled, catching his arm on your shoulder to steady you before making his way past you to make himself a cup of coffee, not batting an eye as he grabbed a napkin and dabbed at it to lessen the soak.

“Fuck, sorry,” you immediately apologized, grabbing the napkin from Kuni and placing your mug down, “Do you want my jacket?”

“It’s fine,” Kuni assured, picking up your mug and handing it back to you before grabbing his own mug that was now full and leaving the room, but not before patting your waist fondly on his way out.

You made sure to pointedly ignore Venti and Lisa’s loud snickers as you hurriedly left the room.

______ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

Everyone’s intentions became clear when you overheard your own students conversing about you. The utter betrayal.

You were running a little late to your class that afternoon after a lively student had spilled glitter on you earlier that morning, you spent a good five minutes scrubbing it off your hands in the staff bathroom before making your way back to class. You had left your classroom door ajar in a hurry to leave, which made it easy for you to eavesdrop on your students when you heard Kuni’s name spoken for the nth time that day.

“I saw them eating lunch in Sir Kuni’s room the other day when I went to get my backpack!” Luo insisted, a lollipop hanging halfway out of her mouth as the group that had gathered around her table eagerly nodded along to her story, “I think they like-like each other!”

“Like-like?” Qiqi drawled out, tapping her chin, “That’s very serious.“

“We should make them be a couple!” Klee giggled, clapping her hands, “Teacher Y/n is very nice! Mister Kuni is too strict for them but it’s okay.”

So this was what your coworkers were giggling about, they thought that you and Kuni were pining for each other. Which wasn’t necessarily untrue, but had Kuni really not mentioned being married even once?

Truth be told, you never wore your ring to school, you didn’t want any paint or glitter to get stuck between the diamonds and have to pay to get it cleaned, but did Kuni really leave his ring at home too? Seems even Mathematics teachers were prone to disasters via children.

“Alright, back to your respected tables, please,” you greeted as you made your way back into class, ignoring the exuberant glances the children gave you. “Valentines is coming up this week, how about we make little cards for your friends?”

“Or boyfriends,” Klee giggled behind her hands as the class shrieked in laughter. You merely patted her on the head and sighed. Today was going to be quite the long day.

______ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

“—I say we send Y/n a Valentine in Kuni’s name, we all know he won’t do it himself!” Venti rebuked, pointing an accusatory finger at Hutao.

“Shouldn’t we give him the benefit of the doubt!” Hutao huffed in response, “They’re clearly into one another.”

“You got it all wrong, Y/n will make the first move and we should allow them to do so,” Xingqiu, the school’s librarian, drawled, tapping his finger on his chin. “I believe they will ask Kuni out on Valentine’s!”

“Are you guys chatting about me again?” you deadpanned, already backing out of the room, but your back ran into something, or rather someone.

“Clumsy as always,” Kuni murmured, placing a hand on your waist and gently pushing you out of the way, “What are you idiots looking at?” he questioned, glaring at Venti who was stifling a laugh.

“You never come in here, I should be interrogating you!” Xiangling defended, hands on her hips.

“Lunch,” Kuni dryly stated, reverting back to his one word answers, and handed a bag to you, “You said you were craving Chinese earlier.”

The familiar smell of fried rice wafted through the room as you peered inside the bag, “You remembered? Thank you.”

Kuni hummed, turning to leave the staff room and hermit himself in his classroom once again.

The moment he left all hell broke loose.

“SEE! I knew Kuni would make a move!”

“But it’s not Valentine’s yet! Y/n still has a chance!"

“We should just lock them up at this rate, this is getting frustrating.”

You clutched the bag tightly and walked out the room, ignoring the shouts questioning the nature of you and Kuni’s relationship that your coworkers shot behind you.

______ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

“Kuni?” you called out, knocking on the door as you opened it, which took away the action’s purpose but you were impatient.

Said male looked up from where he was typing and gave you a glance before averting his eyes back, humming to show he was listening.

“Have you eaten yet?” you asked, shutting the door behind you as you pulled up one of the students’ chairs to sit beside Kuni, leaning back into it as Kuni gestured to his half finished take out box.

“Everyone thinks you and I have a crush on each other,” you blurted, leaning your chin on your palm as you watched Kuni work, watching how his nimble fingers came to a stop at your words.

“A crush?” Kuni repeated, turning to face you, “What? That’s childish.”

“They don’t know we’re married!” you huffed, “Did you not tell them? Where’s your ring?”

“It never came up,” Kuni mused, “Last time I wore my ring I took it off to help a teacher out and when I came back the brats were tossing it, so I started leaving it at home.”

“Oh, it seems they’ve never seen us with our rings,” you frowned, causing Kuni to spin on his chair to face you, an amused smile on his face.

“They just can’t believe I managed to make you mine,” Kuni shrugged, chuckling at the immediate shove you sent to his shoulder.

“Stop trying to be corny,” you smiled, reaching out to tug on his dress shirt and yank him closer.

Without a second of hesitation, your guys’ lips interlocked as if it were second nature. The familiarity behind Kuni’s every touch was still as refreshing as it was years ago when you both first met.

The moment was interrupted with a gasp from afar, and both of you pulled apart to see who had walked in on them, exhaling a sigh of relief to see it wasn’t one of the students. But perhaps this was worse.

Kazuha was staring with a flushed face before he realized he had come over for a specific reason and walked up to Kuni’s desk, dropping a file onto it which led Kuni to groan and sadly flip through it.

“So how long have you two been together?” Kazuha drawled, leaning forward as Kuni shot him a glare. Despite being one of the few people Kuni actually sort of talked to, it seems even Kazuha hadn’t known of their relationship status.

“Since graduating college, married now,” you answered, earning a smile from Kazuha as he nodded, turning to make his leave.

“I’m so winning this bet–”

“What bet? KAZUHA GET BACK HERE! WHAT BET?!”

______ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

Valentine’s day had finally decided to make an appearance, and the school would not let it pass by without a proper send off. The hallways were adorned with pink ribbons and little drawings the kids made, along with the occasional love is love poster and rainbow flag. There were streamers hanging on every doorway, and you couldn’t count how many kids you had to help untangle themselves after getting stuck.

At least it looked pretty.

“I tried to get them to sing Bad Romance, can you believe they’ve never heard of it?”

“Venti, they are children,” Kazuha mused, shaking his head as he unwrapped one of the many chocolates they had lying around for Valentines.

“As their other music teacher you should add it into the curriculum,” Venti huffed, perking up as you entered the room, “There they are!”

“Me?” you repeated, about to take a seat next to them when Xingqiu pointed to the large basket of flowers sitting on the table, “Looks like someone has an admirer,” you added, peering into the basket.

“It arrived this morning, the card says it’s addressed to you? But there’s no sender,” Xingqiu mused.

“Coward,” Lisa reprimanded, “How will I get my daily dose of drama if I don’t know who it’s from?”

“I can infer,” you laughed, tugging on the card, “Probably my husband,” you thought aloud as you read the writing, a smile growing on your face. You were so absorbed in the note that you didn’t notice the staff room grow quiet.

“Hold up, you’re married?!” Venti shrieked, getting up from his seat, “No way.”

“Is that unbelievable?” you frowned, holding up your left hand, “Been married for six years now.”

“Oh my god, we’ve been trying to set you up this entire time!” Xiangling cried out, covering her mouth, “This is so embarrassing! I didn’t know you had someone at home!”

“I’m surprised you guys didn’t know,” you sheepishly laughed, twirling one of the flowers from the basket between your fingers, “You guys have met him before.”

Kazuha snickered behind his chocolate bar as the other staff looked at him.

“So THAT’s why you made a bet saying Y/n married to someone, I thought you just had a gambling addiction,” Xiangling scoffed, hitting Kazuha on the shoulder as he cackled.

“Pay up,” Kazuha grinned as you shook your head.

“Can’t believe you all made a bet and tried to set me up,” you mumbled.

“Yikes, I told Kuni I would get him a date tonight with you offhandedly,” Lisa admitted, looking ashamed as the door to the staff door opened.

Kuni stepped in, but instead of letting him pass by unnoticed as usual you tugged on his sleeve, shooting him a soft smile.

“Thank you for the basket, Kuni,” you thanked, caressing the other male’s arm to show your affection. Neither of you were big on pda, it was a lot for you both to even hug in public. Mostly due to Kuni’s awkwardness with it, but he made up for it by showing affection behind closed doors.

Kuni merely hummed, awkwardly shuffling his feet, you felt a little bad about putting him on the spot but you wanted to show off your husband for once!

“Pause,” Venti stated, pointing between the two of them, “No fucking way.”

“I just lost so much money,” Lisa groaned, sucking her teeth and already pulling out her wallet as Kazuha gleefully counted his bills.

“I’m still processing,” Xingqiu murmured, staring between the two of them, “What, when, and where?”

“I don’t know what you mean by what, we started dating in senior year of highschool, and got married in the town Kuni grew up,” you answered, firmly grasping Kuni’s arm so as to not let him escape. He was already trying to run off.

“I owe Kazuha money?” Albedo questioned as he overheard the conversation walking into the staff room, “No way was his hypothesis correct.”

“Suck my dick,” Kazuha grinned, opening his palm as Albedo sighed and slapped a twenty on it, rolling his eyes as the other male gloated.

“You guys are so fucking annoying,” Kuni complained, but his threat didn’t look at all intimidating as you was pinching his cheek, “Do you really have nothing else to do then try to set me up? No wonder the education system is shit.”

“I’m surprised you even managed to score someone,” Venti giggled, dodging the box of candy Kuni picked up and tossed at him.

“I still have more game than all of you, where’s your partner?” Kuni countered.

“The audacity,” Albedo murmured as Venti huffed in response, the staff room bursting into laughter.

“Guess we need a new project,” Venti grieved, scanning the room till his eyes landed upon Kazuha, “I guess I’ll set you up with someone.”

“You’re gonna what?!” Kazuha exclaimed, his face aghast as the staff immediately started listing off potential candidates

You laughed as you watched Kazuha practically run away from Venti, who was interrogating him on which teachers he found the most attractive.

Your new co-workers were a bit crazy, but you wouldn’t have it any other way.

#kai writes — 📝#scaramouche x reader #scaramouche x you #scaramouche x y/n #scaramouche smau #scaramouche x gender neutral reader #genshin scaramouche #teacher scaramouche #genshin teacher

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aloysiavirgata · 3 months ago

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Prompt! Vulnerable post-case Scully. She can be prickly (because I love your Scully) but also delicate. Case-related vulnerability is my most favourite vibe in the series and every so often I get sad that there are no more moments to watch. Thank you 💜

By the time she gets around to taking it off, her blood-soaked starched blouse has all but melded with her skin. They have to peel it from her body with a crackling sound. Her jacket is already stiffly tented in the corner.

He will burn those items later, he will burn and burn and burn.

***

Acrid scent of gunpowder in the air still. Blood like pennies baking on hot tarmac. Cortisol, adrenaline.

Terror.

Her grasping fingers, her grasping hands, her wracking sobs even as he pried her away to check for wounds.

***

Mulder helps her to his bathroom, holding her elbow as she staggers beside him like a fawn. Her hair is dried in ragged, bloody clumps.

He settles her onto the toilet lid, gets the bath running at her preferred level of scald. He squirts in a few blobs of his pine-scented body wash, which begin to foam. Scully smiles a heartbreaking smile in thanks.

“Bubbles,” he says, inanely.

Scully’s chest is caked with blood, even with her shirt removed to reveal the stained satin of her bra. Her belly is streaked with it, her black trousers rusty and stiff.

How is there any blood still inside her? How is she still here?

She has her arms crossed at her lap, her head bowed. He cannot see anything but her white shoulders and her draggled hair and her dark, narrow thighs.

“Scully,” he whispers.

She gazes up, hollow-eyed. “He didn’t…” she begins. “We never….”

She looks away, lower lip between her teeth.

“Oh, Scully.”

His hands are gentle at the clasp of her bra; he turns his eyes from her breasts even though he’s seen them.

He unbuttons the fine wool trousers at her waist, slides them down with her dark panties. He doesn’t look or touch or breathe more than he has to because the idea of connecting any of this to lust makes him sick.

Her hips, the dark triangle of sunset hair between her thighs, are also sticky with blood. The lace clings a little and she winces. Her trouser lining tugs. Finally, she is nude. She is so small and so bloody and so bare, like a newborn creature.

Mulder guides her towards the tub, averts his eyes like she is Artemis bathing. Tries not to think the name Diana.

Scully, breast-deep in bubbles. Scully dripping rusty rivulets in the steam. Her tears are silent now, streaking paths down her blood-smattered kidskin face.

Mulder fills a scuffed blue plastic Knicks cup with water, curves his palm around her eyes. “Look up,” he murmurs, and she does, distant, outside of herself.

He sluices water over her head until it runs clear, until she is sleek as an otter, a siren, a goddess. She gasps a little, spreads her fingers against her skull.

Her freckles are magnified by the falling water, her eyes a little too big. A little too round. Her nose is straight and queenly throughout however; her lips parted like a budding tulip.

He massages pearly-blue Head and Shoulders shampoo into the rare, persimmon beauty of her hair. He massages her scalp until she purrs a little. He touches her until his nerves are settled.

“Mulder,” she says, and grasps his forearm in her fine, pale hand. Her face is pre-Raphaelite. Her face is like a D below middle-C; a plucked bowstring, still quivering.

Agent Mulder is already in love.

“Padgett was crazy, he was -“ she begins.

“Sshhhh,” he says. “I have conditioner.” He holds the bottle out, a drugstore brand promising THICKNESS!!! and SHINE!!!

She laughs and it warms him like a hot toddy, like the sun in August, like the sand at Ninigret Pond.

***

Scully is clean, finally, even her smudged makeup rubbed away. They’ve drained and refilled the tub with fresh water, with fresh bubbles. She seems like herself again, not so dazed.

He passes her his robe, turns his head to hold it out when she stands.

“You’re so Victorian.”

“Oh, you know how much I love to lie back and think of England.” He glances over. “The memories are so nice, Phoebe and all.”

Scully ties the too-long belt in a big square knot. “It was kindly meant.” Her smile is soft.

“I know.”

They shift awkwardly for a moment in the small space. Scully looks like a kid dressed up as an angel for a Nativity play in that enormous robe, her bare face and bare feet and tumbled halo of hair.

“Thank you,” Scully begins finally. “I couldn’t have-“

“I’m sorry,” he says at the same time.

Scully frowns. “Why on earth are you sor-“

“My neighbor. So I feel like I..I don’t know. I led him to you.” He picks at a non-existent hangnail.

Scully sighs. “Oh, Mulder.”

He shakes his head. “No, I don’t… I didn’t mean to make it about me, I know these are your choices, that you’re not some damsel in distress. I just hate when these things hurt you.”

Things is such an inadequate word, but no word ever could be adequate.

Scully blinks. She opens the door, wafts into his bedroom with the steam. Trails his bathrobe like a court gown.

Mulder follows after, wary. Watches her sprawl on his bed, far from the blood stains in the living room. He’s already called the crime-scene cleanup company.

Again.

She pats the bed next to her. “I promise I won’t take advantage of you.”

He laughs a little at that, remembers her looking a lot like this years ago in Bellefleur, in that awful motel with that terrible brown Clairol wash on her hair. He flops next to her. “Any mosquito bites you want me to check, Doctor Scully?”

She thumbs his cheek. “I was a child.”

He kisses her nose so that he doesn’t kiss her mouth. Though why shouldn’t he? Why shouldn’t they?

“I was a child and she was a child in this kingdom by the sea…” he quotes. Trails off. What are they doing, this isn’t a partnership. This is strange and awful and gorgeous. Her dying baby in his arms, her ova, her-

“In her sepulchre there by the sea…” Scully murmurs. “In her tomb by the sounding sea.” She closes her eyes.

They breathe one another’s air. They breathe artificial pine scent, dryer sheets, warm nitrogen. Faded cotton, old paper.

“Are you okay?” he asks, so he doesn’t slip a finger between her thighs. So he doesn’t say I love you the way oysters love the morning tide.

Her finger at his lips, her breath on his lashes. Her sweet, warm skin and her extraordinary brain and the scarred palimpsest of her body right here.

“No,” she says, stroking his jaw. “But I will be.”

****

She stays with him all night and he stays with her all night and they are arranged like the Lovers of Valdaro.

His coffee pot is programmed. His carpet is soaked in her blood, her gun is going to be the subject of an investigation.

He and Walter will protect her.

***

She loses the robe at 2AM, mumbling something vague about being tangled and too hot. Her naked body is now asleep against his chest and he lets go, finally, in the sweet vulnerability of her slim arms that can heal and kill.

#xf fanfic #xfiles fanfic #msr #prompt #my fic #inbox #milagro #ust

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stardustandash · 15 days ago

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Hi! I just saw your quilted butterflies photo, and I was wondering if you would willing to share how to make them, or link to a tutorial? They're gorgeous and I'd love to try, but i don't know the right search terms to find those, i think.

Oh absolutely! Everyone needs an easy craft to do right now. This will be a photo tutorial, so if you need a video the search terms are "origami butterfly bookmark". The instructions will be pretty similar.

*If you are using a sewing machine a single butterfly should take between 15-30mins, and if hand stitching my guess is ~1hr

Tools: -2 Scrap fabrics or 2x fat quarters, one for the main/outer fabric, one for the inner contrast -I recommend quilting cotton, though any easily ironable, non-stretch fabric will work -ruler and marking tools -scissors OR rotary cutter and mat -Pins (if desired) -Thread in a matching OR contrast colour - depending on preference -Iron and Ironing board - You can use a piece of cotton folded into a thin pad in a pinch as long as it's flat!

Step 1: Cut out two rectangles. You can make the butterflies as big or small as you'd like, as long as it's in keeping with the 2:3 ratio. For me, I like to use 4" x 6" rectangles. Use your marking tools to mark out the rectangle on the back/wrong side of the fabric, then cut them out!

Step 2: Put the rectangles on top of each other, with right/patterned sides facing each other. Make sure all your corners and edges line up. Pin in place if using pins. (in this example one of my fabrics has the pattern on both sides of the fabric)

Step 3: Sewing! Mark a 2" gap on one of the short edges. If using hand needle mark out 1/4" distance from the edges. Sew. If using a machine, line up the edge with the 1/4" inch mark and sew. (Image is completed stitching, not placement on machine)

Step 4: Trim the corners without cutting into the stitching line, then flip the fabric inside out through the 2" gap you left. Make sure to stick your finger or something blunt but pokey -like a chopstick- into the corners to make sure they are nice and crisp!

Step 5: Press all your frustrations out by pressing that fabric! Get it nice and flat and crisp! Make sure you've folded in the edges of the 2" gap to match the seam allowance of the already-sewn edges before you press. Then, if hand sewing, slipstitch the gap closed. If using a machine, set your fabric at a 1/8" distance and sew around the edges, effectively closing the gap and giving you a lovely topstitch detail.

Step 6: Let's start folding! First move we're going to make is folding it in half, bringing the short edges together. Keep in mind, whichever fabric is on the outside will be the main fabric of your butterfly, and what is on the inside will be the contrast! Press hard! Then, make sure the edges you just brought together are facing you for the next step.

Step 7: Take the top fabric of the right open edge and bring it to the left side of the open edge. It will tent up in the corner, use this and press that tent down until you have what looks like a triangle of the outside fabric on top of two rectangles of the contrast fabric. Press! (I forgot to take pics of the whole process with the first one, don't mind the fabric switch).

Step 7.5: Flip your butterfly and repeat step 7 on the other side until you have a strange looking triangle like this.

Step 8: Take the inner corners of the contrast fabric and fold it up towards the outer fabric. The bigger this fold, the more contrast fabric you will see in the final butterfly. Press.

Step 9: Take the tip of one of the corners you just pressed up and bring it back to it's original position. Do not press. Gently press down on the tip of the corner, letting the fabric unfold. The butterfly wing should unfold, with the contrast fabric showing in the centre. Adjust until you have as much contrast showing as you'd like, then press hard. Repeat on the other side.

Congratulations!! You now have a butterfly!! You can make a garland, stick them on hairclips, or simply put them on your windowsill to keep you company! If you want to ensure that your butterfly doesn't unfold, you can add a small hand stitch in the centre of the two triangles that make up the "body" of the butterfly right along where the topstitching is.

Hopefully this was clear to follow, but if you have any questions, let me know!

#butterfly #sewing #quilting #crafts #sewing project #sewing patterns #sewing tutorial

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rosemaze-reveries · 3 months ago

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May I request weeping yearning and pining from afar but reader notices this and sends a message? 😚😚😚😚😚😚

omg who could this be ( ᷄ᾥ ᷅ ︎🫶) ty for the chance to write weepybeepy again

― spellbound

Disclaimer: This was loosely inspired by a scene in The Last Circus (the film Hullabaloo’s love triangle is based on). You couldn’t pay me to sit through that movie again but I’ve got to make use of those 2 hrs I wasted somehow </3

⚠️ Some Sergi/Margaretha. Reader uses they/them (sparingly).

Joker sits on the bench by the prop wagon, the one you instructed him to meet at, watching the other performers practise their stunts. A letter is clutched in his hands, written in your script, its envelope stained with tears that dried well over an hour ago. He’s beginning to accept that you aren’t going to show up. But Joker would wait a lifetime for you—if he had nothing else to cling to, he would always choose you. That’s how it’s been for years.

You’re the light of his life, a star on stage and off. He’s never missed a single performance of yours. He might even be more familiar with your schedule than you are. As brilliant as you are, you’re prone to such scattered thoughts that Joker is sure you wouldn’t be able to live on your own. He’s taken it upon himself to watch over you from afar. Every time you forget a piece of your costume, or your lunch, or a stage prop, he finds them for you; he sets aside a plate of all your favorites whenever you’re late to dinner (which is, impressively, most of the time). You’ve never known who your guardian angel is, and he adores playing that role for you.

That’s also why he believes you aren’t standing him up on purpose. But even if you are, even if this letter you sent out of the blue was all a setup, he would still play along for you.

“Joker, I’m so sorry!”

His eyes flick up at the sound of your voice. You’re hauling around several bags in either hand, props and cosmetics practically spilling out over the top. He jumps up from the bench to greet you, ready to rush over and take some of the load. But before he gets the chance you hitch up your bags and break into a sprint toward him. A couple of greasepaint tins tumble onto the grass, but you pay it no mind and even discard the rest of your things off to the ground with them. Then you toss your arms around Joker, squeezing him tight. His shoulders tense on impact, so stiff they nearly graze his ears.

No one has ever held him like this before. It’s almost unbelievable how much tenderness can seep through a person’s touch. He’s slow to process the sudden warmth that’s enfolding him. After a moment’s hesitation, he realizes this is a chance he might not see again for a long time. So he snaps free of his stupor, delicate fingers cupping over your shoulder blades for an awkward pat back.

“...I-It’s funny, I…” he mumbles into your neck, “I’m not sure I...” Halfway through his words fade out. It’s not meant to be a protest, but you can’t see it as anything else.

“Sorry, I couldn't help myself!” you quickly pull away. Joker mourns the loss. A prickling sensation lingers on the skin where you’d touched him. “There was a huge mix-up,” you explain. “I accidentally agreed to go shopping for the morning crew, and I told someone to tell you what happened but they couldn’t find you in your tent. I didn’t think you’d still be here!”

With a sheepish smile your attention turns to the trail of makeup scattered on the ground. “Anyway, I promise I’ll make it up to you,” you say as you pick up your things. “You know, Sergi’s treating us to dinner tonight. It’s nothing special, just a couple of our friends getting together for drinks. You probably know most of them already. Mike will be there! And Natalie too, obviously. I could let them know you’re coming and we’ll save you a seat?”

Joker doesn’t dwell on it for a second. You’ve invited him out for dinner — what do the little details matter? You will be there, the one person he adores above all else, and that’s enough for him. Sergi’s presence alone is excruciating enough to spoil it all, but he’d sit through it for you. He doesn’t even care that he never would’ve known about this get-together had you not felt guilty enough to extend an invite. This is a dinner date, no matter how you try to twist it. His heart skips a beat at the thought.

“A-Are you sure?”

“Absolutely! And don’t worry about Sergi. I mean, this sounds bad, but he probably won’t even notice you if you sit on the end… Honestly, I get nervous around him myself so I know how to…” —appease him. You can’t bring yourself to say it out loud. “...Well, you know. But we can keep each other company!”

You’re so full of contradictions, Joker muses. Thoughtful, but careless. Sympathetic, but selfish. You talk to him like a well-meaning friend and yet you would’ve been just as happy without him tonight. But that’s alright, it’s not your fault. You’re that way with everyone, he knows that. He just has to step up for you to take a more intimate notice of him.

“Can’t promise I’ll be much of a guest,” he says, lips twitching into a wry smile, “but I guess I could swing by, if you’re going and all…”

And with that your eyes light up and Joker is relieved to know he said the right thing. As you pull him in for a goodbye hug, he closes his eyes and lets himself fall into you, savoring the few seconds your touch belongs to him. When you move to break away, his arms tighten, not willing to let you go just yet. But then he catches himself and his eyes flash wide as a rabbit’s, afraid he’d wronged you in some way. You only smile, gently tucking a lock of red hair behind his ear.

“Okay, I’ve gotta go drop these off! Dinner’s at seven, so let’s meet at the carousel a quarter till? See you tonight!”

“See you,” he echoes, dazed, and finally unhooks his arms. He watches you wave before disappearing into the busy Hullabaloo crowd. Then he reaches up to trace his hair, mimicking your touch.

This is love. He’s sure of it. He feels as though a fairy had come and bestowed a kiss upon him before vanishing with the wind. One blink and you’re gone, just a trick of the eye, and yet his body feels like it’s on fire. What a cruel spell you left on him—he’s pinned in place with butterflies flitting around his stomach, a heart that’s beating louder than his thoughts, and a dull ache pulsing up his leg.

— ୨୧ —

Not forty minutes pass before Sergi hears about the talk you had with Joker. He is Hullabaloo’s shining star, after all, with eyes and ears everywhere. He finds you on the Moonlit River Bridge throwing crumbs for the birds, apparently having nothing better to do, but you would have picked an afternoon of utter boredom over Sergi’s company any day. He strolls over to you and leans against the rail.

“Excited for tonight?” he asks. You spot Natalie observing from afar. She gives you a shy wave of her fingers, but keeps her distance. That’s all the proof you need to know that Sergi isn’t here for some small talk. Your gut tells you to stay on your guard.

“Uh-huh…” you reply, warily. “Do you need something?”

Sergi chuckles, before he slings an arm over your shoulder and begins reeling you across the bridge. Your legs stumble to match his pace, but you don’t fight him. “Listen,” he says as he walks, “you know I love Natalie, right?”

“Yeah?” You can taste the whiskey in his breath, burning your nostrils.

“She’s the love of my life. True love. Say it with me—”

“True love,” you echo.

“True love, exactly. I would do anything for her. And that clown you’ve been talking to lately, I don’t trust him. I don’t like the way he looks at her. I don’t want him even near her. You get me?”

That’s what this is about! All the tension melts from your face. “Oh, don’t worry! He’ll be sitting with me.”

“I’m worried about my wife,” Sergi insists, laying a hand over his breast. “So you understand I have to speak up when you invite someone that might hurt her. To my dinner party of all things. Look, you’re good company. My boys like you, I like you. But I don’t want a mopey clown to spoil my appetite. Right? We want to have fun. And we can’t have fun with him around. Right?”

He keeps up an easy smile, but his eyes warn you to choose your next words wisely. The pit in your stomach drops all of a sudden. You crinkle your nose to escape the smell of his breath and duck under his arm.

“I can just get a separate table,” you say, smoothing out your tousled sleeves. “I really don’t think he’s hurting anyone. Plus Mike’s fond of him, you know, they go way back—”

“(Y/N), I’m saying if I see him there, I’ll blame you for his murder.”

“......”

Those words roll so effortlessly off his tongue, you almost don’t believe you heard him correctly. Your blood runs cold, heart nearly stopping in your chest. This is my circus, is what he’s so graciously reminding you, I’m your meal ticket, not Bernard, not anyone else. You’ll listen to me. Knowing Sergi, this kind of threat is no surprise, and likely an empty one at that, but the sudden switch-up still gives you a jolt. You don’t know how to answer. All you can do is take a few slow steps out of his reach. Some kind of rebuttal rises in your throat, but you choke it back down for a half-hearted “Mhm,” instead, then break into a brisk half-run.

A miffed scoff follows behind you. “Christ, do I have to worry about you fucking up the mood too?”

Again, you don’t respond. He changes his tune a second later:

“I was kidding, (Y/N), you know that! C’mon, it wasn’t that serious! We’re all family here! Tell ‘em, Nat.”

Only at the mention of Natalie do you glance back. She seemed to have sensed the tension and rushed over. She has a soothing hand placed on his back, while Sergi’s arms are spread wide in the air, as if he’s expecting you to rush back in for a hug and say, “Oh, Sergi, I was out of line! I won’t doubt you again!” The sight of it makes your blood boil. You fear you might turn foolish if you act on your rising temper, so you swallow it down and face forward again. Before you storm out of earshot, you catch the last of their conversation:

“Natalie,” Sergi warns, voice low. You guess it’s because she hesitated to back him up. You can almost envision her scrambling to find her words when she calls from afar, a little frantic:

“He didn’t mean it!” she says. “You’ll still show up tonight, won’t you?”

You don’t turn around for her this time. A part of you regrets it, because Natalie is a dear friend of yours, but you feel like the wind’s been knocked out of your lungs. You’re sure you’ll have the chance to speak to her later, at least. She’ll come to apologize on Sergi’s behalf once things quiet down, try to reassure you that he was just a little drunk, that “he’s not really like that.” That’s how it always goes.

Watching you run off, Sergi spits on the ground. “Psycho making me look bad,” he sneers. “You know I was joking, right?”

“Of course I do, Serge,” Natalie coos.

“Right. Everyone loves Sergio the Happy Clown. I make kids laugh. I make you laugh, too. This goddamned circus would’ve burned itself to the ground without us here to save it.”

— ୨୧ —

Joker has spent hours fussing in the mirror.

With one clean stroke, he lines white facepaint above his lip, smoothing right over his cleft. He tries to rub it in with a careful finger. Blend it too much and the scar shines through; too little and he’s just drawn himself a milk moustache. There’s apparently no in-between. This is much easier to cover up when he’s in a full face of show makeup. At a loss, he decides to scrap the white and try a bit of rouge instead.

All the products at his disposal are made for the stage, bright and vibrant and grossly obvious in any natural setting. But as he wipes off the rouge he used on his lips, he discovers it leaves a faint stain behind. Not too prominent, yet it still conceals what he needs it to. Perfect. He uses that technique to plump and even the shape of his mouth. Satisfied with the results, he tucks his hair behind his ear before setting down his mirror.

“Joker, are you there?”

Oh, he loves that voice. Sweeter than anything he’s heard in this world. It’s yours, of course. But you shouldn’t have come for at least another hour or so — and especially not to his tent. …Unless he lost track of time? He glances at the striped canvas wall, the other side of which you’re presumably standing.

That was your voice, right?

He nearly knocks over his vat of lip paint as he lunges for the pocket watch atop his bed. It’s not even six o’clock. So he reassures himself that it’s nothing important. You’re probably just here to update him about the carousel’s faulty calliope or something. That’s a cute habit of yours, he’s discovered: you’re always compelled to tell whoever you can about the smallest of breakthroughs, insisting you’d forget about them otherwise.

He stands up from his stool to greet you, only for a rush of doubt to hit him. Quickly he grabs his mirror and scrubs all the makeup off his lips before slinking over to the slit of his tent.

“E-Early, aren’t we?” he greets, a little meeker than he means to. “Well, not that I mind…”

A weak smile ghosts his face as he talks, expecting to see you mirror it. But the one waiting for him outside holds their brows knitted together, eyes wild and distracted, as if they’d just witnessed a murder. That’s a side of you he never thought he’d see in his lifetime. His smile falls.

“I didn’t mistake the time, did I…?”

“No,” you say. “Um, listen. I don’t think you should come tonight.”

Joker assumes you’ll elaborate, and when you don’t, it’s him that mirrors your knitted brows. He comes closer.

“What happened?”

“Sergi’s upset about it. And he’s serious, I mean it.”

His breath catches in his throat just at the sound of that name. It’s easy to fear the worst. “He didn’t lay a hand on you, ri—”

“No, nothing like that.” You’re quick to cut him off with a firm shake of your head. “I’m sorry I keep messing things up. And about my letter, it wasn’t that important to meet somewhere special or anything. I just wanted to say thank-you for always doing so much for me. I notice, you know.”

As heartfelt as you mean to sound, your tone is devoid of its usual passion. Clearly meeting “somewhere special” had been an important part to you. Joker can imagine what’s coming next: you’ll say that you’re still planning on going to that dinner, that you don’t want to worry anyone, that you’ll see him tomorrow. He doesn’t want to stop you from doing as you like. But at the same time, you’ve cast him aside once already, and he fears his chances at pursuing you whittle away the more this happens.

Sure enough — you start to turn around. “Anyway, I’m still going to go,” you tell him. “I think it’d put Sergi in a better mood if things go like they’re supposed to.”

Joker doesn’t hesitate. He latches onto your arm, his hand quivering slightly.

“You don’t want to,” he points out. “(Y/N), forgive me for being blunt, but you’re shaken up an awful lot… Why put yourself through all that?”

You don’t deny it. “It’s not like I’ll be alone with him.”

“Not tonight,” he presses. “Not tonight. Stay here for a while. I-I’d be glad for the company, and… I’ll figure something out with Sergi. You can take it easy…”

You search Joker’s face. He’s not looking at you, his expression uncertain, gaze lost to the dust on the ground. The pull to stay grows stronger the longer you wait. It’s a tempting offer, and finally the weariness in your bones makes the decision for you.

#mama im in love with a clown #identity v #idv x reader #idv joker x reader #weeping clown x reader #weeping clown #idv joker

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hanasnx · 11 months ago

Text

that girl

PART ONE ✩ PART TWO WORD COUNT: 0.9k WARNINGS: f!reader | suggestive | fake relationship | love triangle

Ever since you'd first started hanging around JJ MAYBANK the other Kooks of Figure Eight have voiced their concern. Every word and every insult has been thrown around to describe him so as to convince you not to "waste your time with him." The mouth of RAFE CAMERON is especially foul. "I'm jus' looking out for you, that's all." he'd insist, and he's shown his concern by towing you along with a harsh grip on your upper arm.

It's no secret that Rafe's interest in you is selfish. He's told you in many ways that you belong with someone from your side of the island, not a delinquent who'll end up just like his slum father. Of course, he hasn't explicitly specified who exactly you should have you eyes on in Figure Eight.

There's something about the way Ward pushes you together, as if you're good for Rafe. Not just Ward, but Sarah and Wheezie love you. They cling onto your arms and tell you about how they wish you were part of the family already, grossly misinterpreting your relationship with their brother. Sarah rolls her eyes at how Rafe talks when he's around you, how he's on edge and slightly more neurotic because he "likes you so much it's embarrassing." Playful and innocent, yet they put you at unease, teaching you to suspect Rafe's oncoming confession.

It's gotten to the point where you're afraid to be alone with him. That he'll confess his feelings for you, or respond poorly when you reject him. Actively avoiding him whenever you're in the same vicinity because the pressure is just too much. However, he's determined, and when he corners you inside at the Midsummer's, you run through a list of excuses at a record pace.

"... and I just think it's time we go out—"

You interrupt him with possibly the worst option on the wheel your brain had spun. "Rafe, I have a boyfriend." Blurting it out in a flinch, readying for his inevitable meltdown. He's not known for being stable. An indignant, knowing glint flashes in his eyes as he refocuses on you, taken aback at the prospect of you belonging to someone else.

"Well, who?"

You're reminded of the back of JJ's head when you'd spotted him sneaking in earlier. "C'mon, you should know already." In an attempt to be lighthearted, you push at his arm but he's immovable and unresponsive, glancing at your contact as if it's unwanted. Embarrassed, you drop your arm, and give him a shrug, "It's JJ." you say in a forced laugh. The silence is killing you as he processes your words, lips pressed into a thin line. Tentatively, you crawl across the wall, inching out of the space he caged you in. "I should... get back to him. Excuse me." your tone feathers out, and you escape, power-walking back to the outside where people are. You leave him staring at the wall with his knuckle to his mouth in thought.

You crane your neck, searching bobbing heads for the one of familiar blonde hair. Miraculously, you spot him on the dancefloor, rounding Sarah. Hiking up your dress, you hurry to his location, and usher him aside. "Sorry, Sarah, be right back." you assure her.

"Hey, easy, you'll get it crinkled." JJ scolds you, straightening out his waiter get-up indignantly. Without thinking, you hand claps over his mouth and he furrows his brows at you, scanning your figure.

"I don't have time to explain, but I need you to be my fake boyfriend—"

The crease in his brows deepen at the notion, minutely shaking his head under the pressure of your palm. "Uh-uh!"

"Please, JJ, I need your help—"

He smacks your hand off, "Are you kidding me?" he questions, too loud for comfort, and to evade making a scene you drag him further away while shushing him.

"You don't understand, just for a little bit!" you beg, clutching onto his clothes as he continuously pushes you off, intent to back up and away. You chase him.

"No, no way, princess. You know what the white knights of Figure Eight'll do to me if they find out a dick from the Cut is your sweetheart? I've got enough heat on me as is." If it were under different circumstances, maybe, but his friends have assured him the less attention on him the better. Not while they're in the middle of a treasure hunt, and less eyes means less competition. Certainly not something he can disclose with you, and you hound after him as he furthers from the centroid of the party. A door opens, and Rafe comes into your view. You jump into overdrive, diving onto JJ to pull him out of Rafe's peripheral. "The hell—?"

"That's Rafe, that's Rafe. God, please, JJ. If you just pretend you're my boyfriend in front of Rafe maybe he'll leave me alone?" You upturn your brows, begging him while his back is to the wall. Bewildered, he stares at you a second before looking around the corner. He licks his lips. The chance to get back at Rafe psychologically sounds pretty good right now, and the way you throw yourself at him ain't bad either. He locks eyes with you again, giving you a once-over in your pretty Midsummer dress. "Please?" you sigh. "JJ. Please?"

His nostrils flare when he sucks in a breath, pursing his lips. "Damnit. Damnit, alright. Enough with those eyes, are you kidding me? I'll do it."

You expel a breath in relief, tossing yourself at him to wind your arms around his neck. "Thank you! Thank you, thank you,"

"Alright, alright." He peels you off of him. "Don't get all happy with me, you've gotta remember I make the rules here."

You shouldn't have agreed to his rules so readily. Like an idiot, you had told him you're down for whatever it takes and he took that seriously. Now you're subjected to his every whim. A small part of you deems it's worth it, especially seeing Rafe's face after JJ made out with you and grabbed your ass for the first time in front of him.

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bowlofsoob · 1 year ago

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mr. oblivious

The entire staff at the new school you work at consistently attempt at getting you and another rather aloof teacher, Choi Soobin, together after witnessing you interact quite often. The catch is that you both are married, and none of the staff have figured it out, yet.

choi soobin x gender neutral reader

established relationship, married, teachers au

wc: 2.7k words

You had recently been laid off as a literature teacher after working at the same high school for a few years due to lack of budget to support the creative arts.

It was much different then being a literature professor for older kids, now you got to do finger painting for a living. And even though your English degree was collecting dust, (you shed a tear at this every night), you were actually enjoying your time teaching for once. Little children were much more bearable than high schoolers. There were no love triangles you had to deal with, kids giving handjobs under the desks, or getting paper planes thrown at you. The most drama that ever happened in your elementary classes was when Haerin wouldn’t share the red crayons with anyone.

Well, you were enjoying it. Past tense.

Ever since you ended up catching teachers and students halting their whispers when you walked by you’ve been rather uneasy.

You brought it up to Soobin during dinner one night and the other male merely shrugged, but that one was on you though. Soobin didn’t interact with any of his co-workers unless he absolutely had to. It was a surprise he was a favorite teacher among the students, unbeknownst to you it was because the children found the male handsome and his teaching style atrocious.

You were surprised to learn none of your co-workers had even held a coherent conversation with Soobin, despite him working there for much of his career. So when Beomgyu, one of the school’s music teachers, let out a gasp at seeing Soobin sitting beside you in the staff room, he was taken aback. Soobin never went out of his way to make new friends, it seems he was content with the little to no socializing he did in college and called it a day.

“So, what’s your secret?” Beomgyu sang, sidling up next to you as he poured himself a cup of coffee, “How’d you get the ever so quiet Soobin to talk to you for longer than a minute?”

“What are you on about?” you chuckled, taking a tentative sip of the hot beverage, you didn’t want to burn your tongue again, it had ruined your entire week last time, “I just talk?”

Beomgyu and you quickly clicked upon your moving careers, there was something calming about the constant chitter chatter that left his mouth. Although, it was also a little annoying at times. Like right now.

“Last time I did that he just glared at me,” Beomgyu dramatically sighed, “Maybe he has his eyes on you.”

“Ooh, are we talking about SoobinYn?” Hueningkai grinned, the actual English teacher, walking into the staff room.

“What the hell is SoobinYn?” you questioned, growing uncomfortable, why was everyone obsessing over you and Soobin? Was this their way of welcoming you?

“I’m going to exit this conversation now,” you mumbled, turning around when you bumped into the other half of said conversation.

And to your horror, a little splash of your coffee landed on the other.

A collective gasp was heard from the staff room, preparing themselves for the ever so aloof male to lash out. Last time Yeonjun spilled his drink on Soobin the dark-haired male had the entire staff shaking in their seats.

“Careful,” Soobin mumbled, catching his arm on your shoulder to steady you before making his way past you to make himself a cup of coffee, not batting an eye as he grabbed a napkin and dabbed at it to lessen the soak.

“Fuck, sorry,” you immediately apologized, grabbing the napkin from Soobin and placing your mug down, “Do you want my jacket?”

“It’s fine,” Soobin assured, picking up your mug and handing it back to you before grabbing his own mug that was now full and leaving the room, but not before patting your waist fondly on his way out.

You made sure to pointedly ignore Beomgyu and Hueningkai’s loud snickers as you hurriedly left the room.

______ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

Everyone’s intentions became clear when you overheard your own students conversing about you. The utter betrayal.

“I saw them eating lunch in Sir Soobin’s room the other day when I went to get my backpack!” Hyein insisted, a lollipop hanging halfway out of her mouth as the group that had gathered around her table eagerly nodded along to her story, “I think they like-like each other!”

“Like-like?” Haerin drawled out, tapping her chin, “That’s very serious.“

“We should make them be a couple!” Sunoo giggled, clapping his hands, “Teacher Y/n is very nice! Mister Soobin is not good enough for them but it’s okay.”

So this was what your coworkers were giggling about, they thought that you and Soobin were pining for each other. Which wasn’t necessarily untrue, but had Soobin really not mentioned being married even once?

Truth be told, you never wore your ring to school, you didn’t want any paint or glitter to get stuck between the diamonds and have to pay to get it cleaned, but did Soobin really leave his ring at home too? Seems even Mathematics teachers were prone to disasters via children.

“Or boyfriends,” Sunoo giggled behind his hands as the class shrieked in laughter. You merely patted him on the head and sighed. Today was going to be quite the long day.

______ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

“—I say we send Y/n a Valentine in Soobin’s name, we all know he won’t do it himself!” Beomgyu rebuked, pointing an accusatory finger at Yeonjun.

“Shouldn’t we give him the benefit of the doubt!” Yeonjun huffed in response, “They’re clearly into one another.”

“You got it all wrong, Y/n will make the first move and we should allow them to do so,” Taehyun, the school’s gym teacher, drawled, tapping his finger on his chin. “I believe they will ask Soobin out on Valentine’s!”

“Are you guys chatting about me again?” you deadpanned, already backing out of the room, but your back ran into something, or rather someone.

“Clumsy as always,” Soobin murmured, placing a hand on your waist and gently pushing you out of the way, “What are you idiots looking at?” he questioned, glaring at Beomgyu who was stifling a laugh.

“You never come in here, I should be interrogating you!” Yeonjun defended, hands on his hips.

“Lunch,” Soobin dryly stated, reverting back to his one word answers, and handed a bag to you, “You said you were craving Chinese earlier.”

The familiar smell of fried rice wafted through the room as you peered inside the bag, “You remembered? Thank you.”

Soobin hummed, turning to leave the staff room and hermit himself in his classroom once again.

The moment he left all hell broke loose.

“SEE! I knew Soobin would make a move!”

“But it’s not Valentine’s yet! Y/n still has a chance!"

“We should just lock them up at this rate, this is getting frustrating.”

You clutched the bag tightly and walked out the room, ignoring the shouts questioning the nature of you and Soobin’s relationship that your coworkers shot behind you.

______ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

“Soobin?” you called out, knocking on the door as you opened it, which took away the action’s purpose but you were impatient.

Said male looked up from where he was typing and gave you a glance before averting his eyes back, humming to show he was listening.

“Have you eaten yet?” you asked, shutting the door behind you as you pulled up one of the students’ chairs to sit beside Soobin, leaning back into it as Soobin gestured to his half finished take out box.

“Everyone thinks you and I have a crush on each other,” you blurted, leaning your chin on your palm as you watched Soobin work, watching how his nimble fingers came to a stop at your words.

“A crush?” Soobin repeated, turning to face you, “What? That’s childish.”

“They don’t know we’re married!” you huffed, “Did you not tell them? Where’s your ring?”

“It never came up,” Soobin mused, “Last time I wore my ring I took it off to help a teacher out and when I came back the kids were tossing it, so I started leaving it at home.”

“Oh, it seems they’ve never seen us with our rings,” you frowned, causing Soobin to spin on his chair to face you, an amused smile on his face.

“They just can’t believe I managed to make you mine,” Soobin shrugged, chuckling at the immediate shove you sent to his shoulder.

“Stop trying to be corny,” you smiled, reaching out to tug on his dress shirt and yank him closer.

Without a second of hesitation, your guys’ lips interlocked as if it were second nature. The familiarity behind Soobin’s every touch was still as refreshing as it was years ago when you both first met.

Hueningkai was staring with a flushed face before he realized he had come over for a specific reason and walked up to Soobin’s desk, dropping a file onto it which led Soobin to groan and sadly flip through it.

“So how long have you two been together?” Hueningkai drawled, leaning forward as Soobin shot him a glare. Despite being one of the few people Soobin actually sort of talked to, it seems even Hueningkai hadn’t known of their relationship status.

“Since graduating college, married now,” you answered, earning a smile from Hueningkai as he nodded, turning to make his leave.

“I’m so winning this bet–”

“What bet? HUENINGKAI GET BACK HERE! WHAT BET?!”

______ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

At least it looked pretty.

“I tried to get them to sing Bad Romance, can you believe they’ve never heard of it?”

“Beomgyu, they are children,” Hueningkai mused, shaking his head as he unwrapped one of the many chocolates they had lying around for Valentines.

“As their English teacher you should add it into the curriculum to analyze or something,” Beomgyu huffed, perking up as you entered the room, “There they are!”

“Me?” you repeated, about to take a seat next to them when Hueningkai pointed to the large basket of flowers sitting on the table, “Looks like someone has an admirer,” you added, peering into the basket.

“It arrived this morning, the card says it’s addressed to you? But there’s no sender,” Beomgyu mused.

“Coward,” Yeonjun reprimanded, “How will I get my daily dose of drama if I don’t know who it’s from?”

“Hold up, you’re married?!” Beomgyu shrieked, getting up from his seat, “No way.”

“Is that unbelievable?” you frowned, holding up your left hand, “Been married for six years now.”

“Oh my god, we’ve been trying to set you up this entire time!” Yeonjun cried out, covering his mouth, “This is so embarrassing! I didn’t know you had someone at home!”

“I’m surprised you guys didn’t know,” you sheepishly laughed, twirling one of the flowers from the basket between your fingers, “You guys have met him before.”

Hueningkai snickered behind his chocolate bar as the other staff looked at him.

“So THAT’s why you made a bet saying Y/n was married to someone, I thought you just had a gambling addiction,” Yeonjun scoffed, hitting Hueningkai on the shoulder as he cackled.

“Pay up,” Hueningkai grinned as you shook your head.

“Can’t believe you all made a bet and tried to set me up,” you mumbled.

“Yikes, I told Soobin I would get him a date tonight with you offhandedly,” Beomgyu admitted, looking ashamed as the door to the staff door opened.

Soobin stepped in, but instead of letting him pass by unnoticed as usual you tugged on his sleeve, shooting him a soft smile.

“Thank you for the basket, Soobin,” you thanked, caressing the other male’s arm to show your affection. Neither of you were big on PDA, it was a lot for you both to even hug in public. Mostly due to Soobin’s awkwardness with it, but he made up for it by showing affection behind closed doors.

Soobin merely hummed, awkwardly shuffling his feet. You felt a little bad about putting him on the spot, but you wanted to show off your husband for once!

“Pause,” Beomgyu stated, pointing between the two of them, “No fucking way.”

“I just lost so much money,” Yeonjun groaned, sucking his teeth and already pulling out his wallet as Hueningkai gleefully counted his bills.

“I’m still processing,” Beomgyu murmured, staring between the two of them, “What, when, and where?”

“I don’t know what you mean by what, we started dating in senior year of highschool, and got married in the town Soobin grew up in,” you answered, firmly grasping Soobin’s arm so as to not let him escape. He was already trying to run off.

“I owe Hueningkai money?” Taehyun questioned as he overheard the conversation walking into the staff room, “No way was his hypothesis correct.”

“Suck my dick,” Hueningkai grinned, opening his palm as Taehyun sighed and slapped a twenty on it, rolling his eyes as the other male gloated.

“You guys are so fucking annoying,” Soobin complained, but his threat didn’t look at all intimidating as you were pinching his cheek, “Do you really have nothing else to do then try to set me up? No wonder the education system is shit.”

“I’m surprised you even managed to score someone,” Beomgyu giggled, dodging the box of candy Soobin picked up and tossed at him.

“I still have more game than all of you, where’s your partner?” Soobin countered.

“The audacity,” Taehyun murmured as Beomgyu huffed in response, the staff room bursting into laughter.

“Guess we need a new project,” Beomgyu grieved, scanning the room till his eyes landed upon Hueningkai, “I guess I’ll set you up with someone.”

“You’re gonna what?!” Hueningkai exclaimed, his face aghast as the staff immediately started listing off potential candidates

You laughed as you watched Hueningkai practically run away from Beomgyu, who was interrogating him on which teachers he found the most attractive.

Your new co-workers were a bit crazy, but you wouldn’t have it any other way.

#txt smau #txt x reader #soobin x reader #soobin x gender neutral reader #soobin x yn #soobin x y/n #soobin x gn reader #soobin x male reader #choi soobin x reader #choi soobin x you #soobin smau #choi soobin smau

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sansaorgana · 1 month ago

Text

— DECEPTION (IV)

DECEPTION MASTERLIST

PAIRING — Sauron x fem!Elf!Reader // Adar x fem!Elf!Reader

SUMMARY — Your relationship with Adar develops and you already see he is going to be a completely different kind of a partner than Sauron was. You're trying to gain your new husband's trust and you accompany him and his army during the attack on Tirharad where you get to witness the Orcs' battlefield havoc for the first time with your own eyes.

AUTHOR’S NOTE — I am hyperfixating on this fic so much and it feels amazing to be so devoted to writing again. In general, the brainrot is real when it comes to The Rings of Power and I have not expected it but it is the most welcome. I already loved Season One but nothing could have prepared me for Season Two! �� Because of that, this fic will most likely have more parts than I have planned, so be warned already. I also might have an idea for a fic with Annatar but I would rather make it a long one-shot instead of starting yet another multichapter... But we will see... 🤔 I start my job soon and I honestly have no idea how I will be able to focus there to learn all my tasks if all I can think of is Adar and Sauron lol

WARNINGS — forced/arranged marriage, Reader is NOT a good person – she is proud, greedy, fake and corrupted by Sauron, "love" triangle situationship, every trigger from S01E06 (death, battle, violence) + Reader is not very fond of the humans and considers them a lower form of life (she is Sauron's lover, okay? I do not share her beliefs because I am a human, too)

WORD COUNT — 5,570

ENGLISH IS MY SECOND LANGUAGE.

DECEPTION (IV)

Tirharad was close but the Orcs could not travel freely in daylight. Even hidden by the thick forest, when the sun rose high up enough, they had to hide. So, you were standing by your horse and watching them setting up a small camp in the middle of the woods. Adar was standing nearby and you could overhear his conversation with Glûg.

“Are we attacking tonight, Lord Father?” The Orc asked.

“Tomorrow,” Adar answered and squeezed his arm reassuringly. “Tonight I shall send the scouts to observe the village,” he explained and Glûg nodded at him before going away to tell the news to his friends.

Adar approached you and you slightly flinched, which was an unplanned and uncontrolled reaction. He spotted it and froze for a short while, refusing to get any further. You were surprised to see that he seemed to respect your personal space and he was ready to back off any moment after realising you were not comfortable with him being around you now. On the other hand, considering the tortures he had been through, it made sense that he was sensitive about the concept of violating someone’s space.

When you first had seen him, he had terrified you. And the idea of marrying him had been the most dreadful. But now you were slowly realising that as cruel as he was to his enemies – he would not be a husband as brutish.

“What am I doing here?” You asked him, quietly. Then, you looked up to meet his gaze. “If it was your plan to destroy Ostirith and its habitants all along… Why save me? Why take me with you?” You asked, genuinely wondering.

“We share certain… qualities,” Adar explained softly. “Loneliness, attraction to darkness. You were trying to tempt me so I would agree to your father’s offer and marry you. And you have tempted me indeed because I’ve been lonely for a few centuries too long now,” he admitted. “And it was the most endearing when I realised you were doing it all for your mother.”

You looked down, not being able to hold his gaze any longer when he mentioned your mother. Yes, it was true that you had been sacrificing yourself for her as well. But what truly had been in the back of your mind was Sauron and the fact that getting close to Adar and his army of Orcs could help your lover in his future schemes.

And perhaps Adar indeed was sick with loneliness if he couldn’t see how truly rotten you were.

“Lord Father, your tent is ready,” one of the Orcs approached you and pointed at the largest tent for Adar to rest in.

“Thank you. Prepare one for my wife, too,” Adar nodded at him.

“There is no need. That one is big enough for us two,” you pointed out and walked inside without looking back.

You looked around and sat on the wooden chair by the small table. The Orcs had no home, so they were travelling with some furniture in case they would spend their days in camps like this one. It was a very poor setting but you were not one of the Elves who had grown up in the rich and beautiful realms like Eregion or Mithlond, so you were not complaining.

Adar walked inside, carrying a heavy wooden chest with some of his belongings. You watched him place it on the ground nearby the bed.

“These are too important to lose or leave unsupervised,” he informed you and straightened his back before looking down at your face. “If you do not wish to be in my presence for now, I understand. I thought you would hate me. Perhaps you do but you do not show it as fiercely as I suspected you would.”

“I feel bad for the Elves you slaughtered inside Ostirith just because they were unfortunate enough to work under my father,” you admitted. “But watching this fortress tumbling to the ground was an oddly satisfying experience to me,” you added and Adar furrowed his brows. “It had been like a prison too many times,” you explained.

In fact, you mourned Ostirith a little but no amount of admitting it would change what had happened and you did not want him to see your weaknesses. You wanted to earn his trust as much as you could. His and his children’s.

“What do you keep there?” You changed the subject lazily and pointed at the wooden chest with your chin. You truly were curious but you wanted to ask in a careless manner, so he would not get too suspicious.

Adar hesitated for a moment before crouching down next to the chest and opening it. You had to fight every muscle in your body from trying to get a better look inside and to keep appearing unbothered.

But when he lifted up the Iron Crown, you gasped. A thrill went down your spine; a malicious shiver as your heart clenched inside your chest. You could smell Sauron’s blood on it and you immediately realised how your beloved had died. It was a twisted way to get rid of him and quite poetic, too – you had to admit it.

“You recognise the item,” Adar pointed out.

“Has my father not mentioned my education and intuition?” You cracked a nervous smile. “How did you get Morgoth’s crown?”

Adar only smiled at that and hid the item again, locking the chest with a key that he kept with himself.

“It is strong enough to kill Sauron – it has defeated him once. Not fully, so it seems. But with the help of even stronger magic, it could work again and this time it could finish the job,” he explained. “Now you know how important this chest is. I have shown it to you in case something happens to me.”

Now it was your time to smile mysteriously but you only nodded at him to show him you understood completely.

“Do you wish to rest now, my Lady?” Adar asked as he straightened his back and stood up. “I shall go to my children and answer their questions about the attack,” he said.

“I have nothing else to do, it seems, my Lord,” you sighed and leaned back on the chair as you watched him approaching the way out of the tent. “Unless…” You stopped him and he turned his head around. “Unless you would not mind my company. I am curious about the attack myself,” you added. “I am your wife,” you reminded him. “Your equal. I wish to stand by you always instead of hiding away in tents, camps and woods; left in the darkness of not knowing what is happening around me. I have never wished to be this kind of woman,” you stood up as if you were challenging him.

“You take matters into your own hands,” Adar commented. “I have seen that already back in Ostirith. You may join me, wife,” he emphasised the last word and it sounded a bit like mockery but you also spotted a hint of affection.

He extended his hand carefully towards you, still remembering how you had flinched before but this time you were in full control of your body, so you approached him, although instead of taking his hand, you put yours on his arm like a viper snake tightening its hold around the victim.

But your victim was powerful and treacherous, therefore you had to be the most cautious.

Adar deciding to attack in the evening of the next day only prolonged the anxious anticipation. You had never taken a part in any battle of this sort before.

When you had told your husband that you had never wanted to be this kind of woman – hiding away and waiting – that had been a lie. You had been like this with Sauron whenever he had been scheming and plotting somewhere. All you had been doing was warming up the bed for him. And whenever he had been back… He had been the most hungry and thirsty for you. That was all you had been caring about with Sauron. That, and to become his Queen.

But the cruel fate had taken your lover away from you and now it was time to prove your love and devotion to him. To help him – as simple as it was. You would bring the army of the Orcs to him and you would destroy your own realm for him on the way if you had to.

Sauron had always been quite… chatty. He had not only been drowning you with the countless affections and sweet words but he had also been sharing lots of his plans with you while playing with your hair or caressing the curves of your body. And perhaps he had been thinking that you had not been listening to any of it but it was not true. You had been a devoted listener.

And you knew his plan for the Southlands was to take over these lands and to make them his own terrifying realm. You knew his plans for your home were the most horrific and yet you liked the idea of ruling Middle-earth from the ruins of your homeland. It would be a symbol for you – a purge of the Southlands and Ostirith – your personal prison being turned into ashes and you becoming the Queen of them.

However horrific it would be, you knew it would not matter. You would rule alongside your lover and that was all you needed. You could be his Queen in the most precious gemstones and you could be his Queen in rags. You could rule over the beautiful Elves and you could rule over the filthy Orcs and it made no difference to you. What mattered was being by his side and getting intoxicated with his love and his worship.

Thinking of Sauron fondly, you wondered if you should try to wear your tempting nightgown again for this night as the sounds of the partying Orcs were reaching you from the outside of the tent. But then you thought that perhaps the nightgown had the opposite effect on Adar who simply did not like seeing you trying to seduce him. So, you just stripped yourself down to an underdress and rested on the bed, looking bored as you played with the necklace around your neck.

When Adar entered the tent, he tilted his head at the sight of you and then he sighed, sitting by the table and opening the notes from the scouts that had been waiting for him.

You kept observing him from the corner of your eye but he seemed to be uninterested in you, so you rolled your eyes and looked away. For a man claiming to be so lonely, he was also very cold. And you knew that in the eyes of the Valars, you were still unwed because the marriage was not consummated. However, you did not want to push him into anything because it could cause his mistrust and anger.

“I am scared of my uncertain position here,” you finally admitted and he froze before turning around to look at you, confused, still holding the piece of paper in his hand.

“What do you mean, my Lady? You are my wife,” he shook his head.

“No, I am not… yet,” you swallowed thickly and squeezed the pendant of your necklace in your hand.

You had no idea how to seduce sexually or convince him to join you in bed because Sauron had never taught you any of this – he had always been an eager lover.

Adar sighed and left the table to sit on the edge of the bed as he looked down at you. He extended his hand to brush your cheeks with his fingertips and then he allowed his hand to go lower to your chest, which was rising up and down in the pace that was going quicker now. In that moment, you could see clearly in his eyes that he desired you, so you could not understand why he was stopping himself from going further.

“Is it because of something Morgoth had done to you?” You asked, trying to sound gentle and hoping it would not anger him.

“No,” Adar shook his head with a very gentle hint of a smile. “It is because you do not want it willingly,” he admitted and retreated his hand. “When I agreed to marry you, I knew you were being forced by your father. You could have been assuring me that you wanted it but I knew you were only doing it for your mother and now, when she is safe, you are doing it to ensure your own position,” he kept explaining and you couldn’t help being surprised.

He was one of the most dangerous people you had ever met and surely one of the most brutal and yet he refused to harm his own wife in any way even if it was not love that had bonded you two but loneliness and the shared rot of the soul.

“Do you know that arranged marriage is against the Elven customs?” Adar asked with a sad smile.

“We are going against all Elven customs, haven’t you noticed, my Lord?” You swallowed thickly and lifted yourself up on your elbows.

“You are wearing my ring and I am wearing yours. We are wed for eternity no matter what,” Adar stood up to leave the edge of your bed. “And eternity is a long time for you to eventually warm yourself up to the idea of sharing your bed with me. And if not, I shall survive,” he shrugged his arms. “There is more to life than the pleasure of the flesh.”

You opened your mouth to say something – anything – and to deny his words, to keep tempting him somehow. But Adar interrupted you and saved you from any further embarrassment.

“Speaking of survival, I have something for you. Gifts,” Adar pointed at the chest that had been put inside the tent not so long ago by one of the Orcs but you had been ignoring it until now.

“I did not expect you to be a husband who would spoil his wife with gifts,” you tried to tease as you sat up fully now and watched him open the chest.

“These are not traditional gifts by any means,” Adar warned you and he approached the bed again to hand you a slim and beautifully ornamented dagger, made of black metal.

Your heart skipped a beat at the sight of it. In fact, it nearly made you sick and you tried very hard not to show how much this item had affected your senses.

It was Sauron’s dagger; the one he had been carrying with him most of the time. Adar had to take it away from him alongside the crown when he had murdered your beloved. You knew that dagger – you had been watching Sauron with it countless of times. And Sauron himself had been using it on you many times before to increase the pleasure of your intimate moments. That dagger meant the world to you and to hold it in your hand was like holding the hand of your lover again after all those centuries of separation and yearning.

“I-it is beautiful,” you stuttered out and took it, trying to compose yourself.

“You seem to be uneasy,” Adar furrowed his brow and you quickly came up with an excuse as you looked up at him with a trembling lower lip.

“It is of great beauty but I can sense a tremendous darkness within it,” you explained.

“It belonged to Sauron,” Adar admitted. “If it is too corrupted for you, I can take it from you and have a custom one made,” he assured you.

“I can handle it,” you shook your head and squeezed your hand around the blade’s hilt. “It was just a slight disturbance when I first touched it,” you answered. “Thank you, that gift is very thoughtful, my husband,” you forced a smile and Adar sighed with relief. He extended his hand to gently grab your chin and caress your cheek before he walked away to the chest once again.

And when he turned around one more time, you gasped once again at the sight of a black breastplate. It was Elven – you recognised the ornaments in the shapes of leaves immediately.

“It belonged to one of the Elves we killed on the way. We collect their armour to later transform the pieces into the items we find useful but this breastplate I ordered to paint black since it might suit your size,” Adar admitted. “You march with the army and you need to be protected from the blades and arrows of our enemies,” Adar placed the breastplate on the chair next to the bed but you already stood up, all ready to wear it and see for yourself.

He assisted you in putting it on and you had no mirror to see how you looked, so you had to rely on his opinion on it.

“And?” You asked, excitedly.

“I think it fits you well, my Lady,” Adar nodded and you smiled widely at him. “And I see the gifts do please you.”

“Of course they do. So far, the books have been my weapons, but this feels quite empowering,” you admitted and tried to get a glimpse of your appearance in the reflection of your dagger’s blade.

Sauron had only been gifting you jewellery, dresses and nightgowns that later would end up torn or cut up with this very dagger. Sometimes, he had given you a book when he had wanted you to study it for him to help him expand his knowledge. And as much as you loved being spoiled and worshipped by him in this way, you also found it very dignifying to receive gifts of this sort from your husband.

“I want my wife to be respected not only because of being my spouse but because of who she is on her own. I want the whole Middle-earth to see the Dark Lady that you are,” Adar confessed in the Quenya language while he stood behind you and you felt his hands on your hips as he leaned in to whisper into your ear. You watched his distorted reflection in the blade of your dagger and in that moment, you swore, you truly wanted him and it scared you because it could mean that it was not Sauron whom you loved but the promise of power he had been presenting you with.

You felt the small amount of pain from squeezing the blade too tightly and it brought you back to reality. You shook these thoughts off and took a deep breath in. Of course you loved Sauron – you loved everything about him. Every inch of you craved and missed him to the point that you ended up caressing the hilt of the dagger for the whole night long, trying to feel the remains of his fingertips.

You have observed the fire of the burning villages from the Ostirith’s watchtower but now you were experiencing the Orcs’ havoc for the first time personally, walking into burning Tirharad alongside your husband. Dead human bodies scattered under your feet while the rooftops of the houses burnt as the Orcs kept destroying everything on their way as if they were in a frenzy, chanting the word nampat.

You were wearing your new breastplate over your black dress and you had the dagger attached to it on your hip in case you needed it but there were no humans around anymore even though they had to fight bravely since the ground was also full of the dead bodies of the Orcs.

You were careful with your steps and it felt as if you watched the scene in slow motion – in a way, you were alone in the middle of this small hell. You let Adar walk past you as your own pace slowed down. Those were the lands your father had been the guardian of. Now they were burning and you only watched.

No, you didn’t just watch. You participated in it. You had brought death to the village of Tirharad.

“Is that what you wish to be?” You joined your husband’s side again. “The King of ashes?” You asked.

“I do not wish to be a King,” he remarked, “and my children do prefer the ashes.”

You joined the Orcs that were trying to get inside the tavern where the remaining villagers seemed to be hiding and they had barricaded themselves. However, it was only a matter of time when the Orcs would finally be able to open the wooden doors.

You felt a thrill of anticipation and excitement when they succeeded. You were not quite sure what was the item your husband was seeking – as much as he trusted you with some things and had even shown you the crown of Morgoth, he also kept some information hidden from you.

You took a step ahead but Adar’s hand stopped you from walking further by taking you by your wrist as the Orcs ran inside, attacking the villagers.

“Do not rush, my Lady,” he scolded you gently. “Let my children take them over first. You would make an easy target,” he pointed out and even though his words hurt your pride a little, you knew he was right and he had only done it to protect you.

You nodded your head at him and you waited a moment before Adar let go of your hand and walked inside the tavern. You could hear how quiet it got and you understood why since he had that effect on people. You took a deep breath in and straightened your back before following him, ready to face all those humans and make your appearance as Adar’s Dark Lady for the first time in public.

But when you walked inside, there was only one person that you could keep your eyes on as you gasped quietly at the sight of him. He was being held by two Orcs and his eyes widened at the sight of you, too.

“Arondir…” You whispered his name. “I thought you were dead,” you admitted.

He had not returned from one of his scouting missions and that had been one of many such cases lately when the Orcs had overtaken these lands. You all had mourned him already in Ostirith and you personally had been very sad about him in particular because you considered him to be one of your closest friends inside the fortress.

“My Lady…” Arondir was clearly confused to see you like this. “I thought the same of you when we watched Ostirith fall,” he admitted. “I have mourned you.”

“And I have mourned you, old friend,” you nodded at him and you stood next to Adar. You finally looked at the other faces and they kept staring at you with terror.

They knew you. You did not know them but they knew about you. Your father had been no King but he had been the protector and the guardian of these lands and you were his only daughter – a beautiful Elven maiden walking around the forests or riding her horse through this realm, sometimes talking to its habitants on the way. You were a part of their stories and myths, their songs and their legends and in their eyes you were a Princess.

Now, they could not comprehend why you were standing next to the man who was the very reason of their doom.

However, no one dared to ask any question. Not even Arondir and you just knew he had to be dying of curiosity to know what had happened. Just like you were pretty curious to find out why he had never made it back to Ostirith, which seemed to had been his own choice.

In the meantime, after observing your interaction with Arondir, Adar approached him slowly, staring at your friend with the most intensity.

“What I seek. Give it to me,” Adar said in the Quenya language.

“Let them go. I will consider it,” Arondir answered in the same speech and no trace of fear was spotted upon his face. You knew that your husband would not get whatever he wanted easily because you knew Arondir and you were aware of his stubborn and courageous nature. You were afraid it would lead him to his death now and that was the loss you would grieve surely, especially after witnessing it with your own eyes.

Suddenly, you started to think that, perhaps, being this kind of woman – who would stay behind and wait… Perhaps it would be better. Perhaps Sauron had been protecting your innocence and your fragility when he had not been taking you with him anywhere. Perhaps he had not wanted anything else except for him to corrupt you.

Adar nodded his head at the Orcs and the ones who had human villagers at the ends of their blades began to use their weapons and kill these poor people.You tried your best to remain unbothered by it but your heart pounded inside of your chest. You could see some of the people who were exclaiming in fear were also looking up to you to help them but you could not. You could not risk this fragile thread of trust that connected you with your husband.

And, unfortunately to them, no human life was worthy enough for you to risk ruining your plans to help Sauron in the end of all of this. They had to die, so the greater thing could emerge from it later. The Dark Lord who would heal all Middle-earth. Their sacrifice would be the most appreciated then.

“Why sacrifice their life for such a little thing?” Adar asked and in that moment once again you were confused by how cruel this man could be – the very same man who refused to touch you just to make sure everything between you two was consensual.

That made you feel special.

More people kept dying and Arondir screamed in anger into Adar’s face, then he looked at you, awaiting any reaction but there was none even though your eyes had to betray you a little bit and show some pain.

“Arondir, please,” you stepped in. “Just cooperate,” you tried to reason with him. “For the sake of our friendship.”

“I am no friend of yours!” Arondir spat out and even though his reaction was the most understandable, it stung your heart and angered you.

You had never been able to handle rejection very well. The pain and compassion in your eyes turned into rage in a very brief moment. Sauron had always found your mood switches of this sort very endearing.

Adar turned around and spotted a wounded woman laying down with the blade pressed to her neck. She was oddly calm in the middle of this bloody chaos.

“The woman next,” Adar ordered and these three words seemed to have a very strong effect on Arondir. He screamed and grunted, trying to get out as the Orcs holding him struggled to keep him steady.

“No!” Some young boy shouted, most likely that woman’s son.

But you focused on Arondir as you smirked. So, it was love that had kept him away from Ostirith. It was love that had caused him to not come back. And it was love for a human to make it even more romantic in the cheapest way.

You had always heard stories of the Elves falling for the humans but you had never understood any of them. Why would any Elf fall for a creature so weak…? You were quite the opposite – you loved a Maia; nearly a God – and you often wondered what he had seen in you… a common Elf.

“Wait!” The young boy shouted at the Orc who raised his hand to strike the final blow upon the woman’s neck.

“No!” Arondir screamed at the boy and you raised an eyebrow.

“It’s under here,” the boy confessed, desperate to save his mother and Arondir looked at him with terror in his eyes. “It’s under here.”

“No…” Arondir whispered at this betrayal.

“Elves do love differently than humans,” you explained to the boy. “He might love your mother but he will still sacrifice her – and this whole village – for this one magic item,” you pointed out with mockery. “He does not understand why none of this matters to you. You just want to save your mother, am I right, boy?” You asked him and approached him as Arondir shot you a deadly glance.

But, in a way, you did not have to fake much of that compassion towards the boy. You knew what it was like to love your mother and to try to save her no matter the cost.

The boy nodded at you and you nodded at the Orc standing behind him to let him go. So he did and the boy grabbed the tool that would help him to get to the item.

“Theo!” Arondir called his name.

“I’m sorry,” the boy named Theo whispered and pried one of the stones that the floor of the tavern was made of.

Arondir kept grunting and trying to get out of the Orcs’ hold but they were stronger than him. Adar crouched down to get the small thing covered in dirty rags out of the hole under the stone as you stood above him and looked down with curiosity. When he opened it, a sword’s hilt was revealed and it had been forged in the same fashion as Sauron’s dagger or Morgoth’s crown. You could feel its dark magic as an ominous feeling sent a shiver down your spine.

Then, the loud rumbling reached your ears and you all furrowed your brows at the sound. You realised it was coming from the many horses going your way from afar. Someone was coming with an army to help the people of Tirharad.

You were scared at first. Scared of such a quick defeat. If it was an army of the Elves, your whole scheme would be over before it had even started. On the other hand, considering the fact you had been married to Adar for a few days, you could still save yourself by putting on a show of sobbing and explaining to the High King how much your awful father had been forcing you to become a part of this union. Perhaps he would believe you but you were scared of Gil-galad the most because he was so pure and made of such strong light that he would surely see through you immediately.

In such a case, it was very beneficial that your marriage at least had not been consummated.

Adar grabbed you by the sleeve of your dress and walked you out of the tavern. You could sense he was nervous as well and you two nearly bumped into Glûg standing in front of the building, anxiously waiting for his Lord Father to tell him the worrying news.

“The army is coming, Lord Father. We do not know yet who–” he started.

“I have a task for you,” Adar ignored him as he turned around to face you and Glûg shut his mouth as he looked down.

“What is it?” You asked, trembling slightly. The rumbling sound coming from the distance was growing louder as your anxiety was rising.

“You will go back to Ostirith and use your blood to extend the sword. There is a crevice – you know which one; Ostirith was your home. You have to insert the sword inside and twist it,” Adar handed you the hilt, still covered in the dirty rags.

You took it from him but you were out of words as you kept staring at him. He had to be desperate to give you out of all people such a task.

“That will open the dam,” you shook your head. “I do not understand.”

“Do it,” Adar insisted and clenched his jaw, staring at you intensely. “This way, you get to finish what I started and you get to be safe, away from the battlefield. You have no time to lose. Glûg will go with you,” he looked at at the Orc. “Look after my wife, Glûg.”

The Orc nodded at you, visibly proud of the job he was given.

You were still unsure of the whole thing, clenching the sword hilt covered in rags in your hands but you saw an opportunity of getting out of danger that was coming. However, when you looked at Adar, you realised it could be the last time you were seeing him alive and for some reason it made you sad a little bit. He was a mysterious man and you hoped to get to know some of his secrets before you would get back with Sauron.

“Are you sure you trust me with such a task?” You asked. He looked like it was a very important job to do and he cared deeply about it being done properly.

“I do not have many I can trust,” he only said.

“Clearly,” you answered and took a deep breath in before looking at Glûg. You nodded at him and you both ran away as fast as possible towards the woods.

MASTERLIST

#adar x reader #sauron x reader #annatar x reader #halbrand x reader #lilysfiction

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phoward89 · 8 months ago

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Jealous!Coryo x Reader, Odair!Ancestor x Reader.

Series Masterlist

WARNING ⚠️ Coriolanus Snow is a warning in and of itself. That man is a walking blood red flag waving heavily in the wind! engagement (not reader), smut, infidelity, love triangle, manipulation, stalking?, gaslighting, fluff, Head Gamemaker!Coryo, District 4 Cruise Ship Heir!Odair OC. Dark!Coriolanus, Jealous!Coriolanus, Dom!Coriolanus

Chapter 4:

You just resumed chopping up the vegetables for the quick stir fry you were going to make for dinner whenever a knock sounded at your door. Oh, so Coriolanus came back for his forgotten jacket. That's good. So, without giving it much thought, you put down your knife and left the kitchen- to go into the main room and answer the door.

But when you opened the door, it wasn't your platinum blonde ex that greeted you, but your current bronze haired boyfriend. Odysseus.

“I brought you some dinner from North Italia.” He smiled, holding up a couple of cardboard boxes with the restaurant’s label on them. “It's squid ink tonnarelli and tiramisu.” Odysseus informed you with a bright smile, making his way to your kitchen. “I think you'll like it; it's what I always get when I go there.”

“I usually get the chicken parm and some cannolis, but I'm sure what you got me will be good.” You half lied. Oh, you were honest about what you always ordered from North Italia (a place that you and Coryo seemed to both order out from and attend his business dinners at), but not about how you felt about what Odysseus got you. Just the thought of eating something made of squid ink made you cringe.

Like, really? Squid ink? Food made with squid ink… You know that Odysseus is really into his District 4 roots, but isn't squid ink food a bit much.

“Hmmm…” Your boyfriend skeptically hummed.

“I was chopping up some veggies to make a stir fry with, but I guess I'll just put them up in the fridge for another day.” You told your boyfriend, following right behind him.

Upon entering the kitchen, Odysseus stopped dead in his tracks. The takeout containers fell out of his hands, due to his shock at seeing a red suit jacket and a large bouquet of red roses on your kitchen island.

Your eyes went wide as you remembered the roses and Coriolanus’ forgotten jacket that are on your kitchen island. Oh no…Odysseus saw them.

“Odysseus?” You tentatively asked, coming up next to him and placing a hand softly on his arm.

He could react one of two ways…

Either lash out on you or cry, but both would come with an accusation.

Pushing your hand off of his arm, Odysseus turned to you only to incredulously exclaim, “We've been together for over a week and you're already cheating on me!” Shaking his head, causing his bronze waves to rustle around his shoulders, he rhetorically asked, “What the hell's wrong with you, honey? I thought you were a nice girl.”

“I am a nice girl, Odysseus.” You told your boyfriend, only to quickly deny the cheating (that you finished doing not that long ago) with, “I didn't cheat. An old friend from my Academy days came over. He's a gentleman; has a thing for bringing roses, and forgot his jacket when he left.”

“You expect me to believe that, Y/N?” Odysseus bitterly scoffed. “Please, don't lie to me. We both know that you're not an Academy graduate, honey.”

That took you aback. Why would he assume that you weren't an Academy graduate?

“But-” You began, only for your boyfriend to cut you off with, “We both know what kind of people attend the Academy, Y/N. Hell, I attended it because it's for rich people, and sadly, honey, you're not rich.”

You felt a heavy, sad feeling welling up in your chest, but you pushed it down. You didn't want your new boyfriend to see you get upset from his words. You wouldn't give him the satisfaction.

Plus you only felt comfortable enough with one man to let yourself show emotions around them. Or at least you did, before everything went down the previous month…

Trying and failing not to let your boyfriend's words get under your skin, you retorted with, “I know I'm not rich, Odysseus. I never said I was, but I was raised around rich kids despite growing up not having a pot to piss in.”

“Look, you don't need to impress me by trying to fluff up your background with Academy cred. I’m not into the social hierarchy of the Capitol, unlike my father.” Odysseus told you, clicking his tongue in a slight reprimanding manner. Crossing his arms over his firm chest, he revealed, “I like you, honey, but the fact that I can't trust you now cause of-” Waving his hand towards the red jacket and roses on the island. Refolding his arm over his chest, your boyfriend sighed, “I think we need to take a break for a few days, so I can clear my head and see how I feel about us.”

Of course, he wanted to take a break. You don't blame him one bit for that. If the roles were reversed, you'd probably want a break too.

“I think that maybe you should take a few personal self-help mental health days. Uh, 3 of them should be good.”

“What? Odysseus-”, You began, feeling that 3 personal self-help mental health days was uncalled for just because the two of you got into a fight and decided to take a small break, but Odysseus cut you off dramatically with, “I suspect you of cheating and you need to think about what you did. Plus, honey, we don't need tension in the company, you do work in the marketing department of the Odair Luxury Cruises.”

“You can't expect me to stay home because we're having a misunderstanding, Odysseus. Hell, we don't even work on the same floor.”

“I don't need any company drama, Y/N, and we're not having a misunderstanding. I caught you cheating, honey, and now I have to decide if I want to give you another chance or not; I don't need to be seeing you around my Pop's company while trying to figure out what to do with you.” Odysseus told you before exiting your apartment; leaving you alone in your kitchen entrance to stew in your thoughts.

You’re alone in the elevator, holding the large bouquet of red roses in your hand; red jacket draped over the crook of your arm, furiously rubbing away the tears that are trickling down your cheeks. Your eyes were starting to blur as you saw the floor numbers begin to reach double digits.

You had to quickly dry your eyes. You couldn't let that platinum haired ex of yours see you crying.

No.

You just wanted to give him back his jacket and roses; thank him for fucking up your new relationship too.

Suddenly, the elevator reached its destination and came to a stop. The doors opened with a loud ding, causing you to step out and into the foyer. You didn't even bother to take in the foyer’s modern decor, just made a beeline towards the penthouse door. The sooner you give Coriolanus his stuff back, the sooner you can go back to your apartment and wallow in your misery. Think of something to say when you call up your boss in the morning to take a few impromptu self-help healing days.

Coming to a stop in front of the ornate door, you scrubbed your eyes dry for a final time and let out a sigh. Balling your hand into a fist, you knocked- quickly to signal that you didn't want to wait in the foyer too long.

It felt like hours as you waited for Coriolanus to answer the door, but in reality it was only minutes.

And when you saw him leaning in the doorway, eyes taking in your upset form, you didn't hesitate to throw his forgotten jacket and roses at him while shouting at him to take his stuff back and to stay the fuck out of your life.

When Coriolanus heard the knock on his door, he was on his sofa watching the P-PANEM (Political-PANEM) channel on TV to see how he was doing since announcing his Senate run. And, sadly, he was ranked at the bottom, which pisses him off. So, your knock was actually a nice distraction from the bullshit he was listening to about himself.

And he knew it was you too. How did he know? Eh, call it lover's intuition.

It only took Coriolanus a few minutes to reach his front door and answer it.

But when he saw your red puffy eyes paired with the roses and his red jacket in your clutches, he knew that his plan worked. He just wasn't expecting it to be so soon. Wow, seems like Odair just had to see you tonight. He was expecting the big cheating breakup fight to happen in the morning or tomorrow night. But it happening so soon worked in his favor.

“Take your roses and jacket back.” You told the tall, sinewy man in front of you while throwing the stuff at him. The jacket and roses flew over his shoulder, landing on the marble floor with a loud thud. “And stay out of my fucking life, you damn bastard.”

Coriolanus figured you'd be upset about a breakup with Odysseus l, but he wasn't expecting you to order him to stay out of your life. Okay, now he wants to know what Odair said to you. What happened to make you start calling him a bastard with a hateful tone of voice.

“Baby, what happened?” The platinum blonde asked, placing his hands on your shoulders in a show of concern and sympathy.

“My boyfriend, Odysseus, came over to bring me some squid ink tonnarelli and tiramisu from his dinner meeting at North Italia, but he saw your jacket and the roses you left in my kitchen and now my life's ruined.”

“God, I hope you didn't eat the squid ink shit? That sounds like a case of botulism just ready to happen.” Coriolanus dryly jokes. On a serious note, he did think that the food sounded disgusting- but to each their own.

But hearing you say that your life's ruined did concern him. A simple breakup doesn't ruin somebody's life. So, he was getting the feeling that more than a breakup occurred.

“How is your life ruined now, Y/N?” The blonde asked, needing to know how bad he needed to punish Odysseus for making you cry; ‘ruining your life’.

“Odysseus wants to take a break for a few days and told me that since I work in the marketing department for his father's company that I have to- well he ordered me to- take a few days off for personal self-help mental health days; that Odair Luxury Cruises doesn't need any issues due to me cheating on him.”

“What? He told you that?” Coriolanus asked, not believing the bullshit manwhore Odair was pulling on you. You two didn't even work on the same department, with you being in marketing and him on the top floor playing VP.

“Yes, he did.” You confirmed with a nod.

You're a hard worker and great at your job. Coriolanus was awed that Odysseus was putting your career in jeopardy over his bruised ego. Fuck, even Coriolanus wouldn't do that. In fact, he'd do the opposite. He'd be up your ass at work, trying to work things out.

Then, the aspiring politician had a wonderful idea. Yes, yes, it was perfect. He'd surely win you back with his sudden spur of the moment idea.

“Come in, we need to talk.” Coriolanus told you, grabbing your hand in his and leading you inside of his lavish and modernly designed penthouse.

“There's nothing for us to talk about, Coriolanus.” You objected, trying to pull your hand out of Coriolanus'.

Your ex just tightened his hold on your hand while closing the door behind you. “Yes, baby, we have something very important to talk about.” You just rolled your eyes at him, prompting him to say, “You're fearful about your job, so let's talk about a new career opportunity that’ll make you 92 thousand a year.”

“And what would that be, your personal mistress?” You sarcastically scoffed.

“No.” Coriolanus shook his head, leading you around the items you threw on his floor (the maid’ll get it in the morning). “You'd be my campaign manager; my public affairs advisor.”

“What?” You asked, feeling as if the air was knocked out of you, while entering the large living room with Coriolanus.

“Well, you'd be working with me at the Citadel as my assistant, but I'd have you running my Senate campaign and PR.” He told explained, leading you over to the large white leather sofa.

“Part of your PR would be me promoting your engagement and wedding to Livia, Coriolanus. I don't know if I can do that.” You honestly told him while sitting down on the sofa.

Coriolanus sat down next to you, only to cup your chin and say in a manipulative and soft baritone, “It's a money match. And arranged between Strabo Plinth and The Cardews, nothing more. You can do PR on it because, my darling rose, I hate Livia and she hates me right back.” Tenderly stroking your jaw, he went on to assure you, “I have no feelings for her, whatsoever. But it's you that I feel rather fond of.”

Hmm…so he feels rather fond of you. Nice to know that you're on the same level as an old stuffed animal or a memory. Things that people are fond of are usually things that get forgotten or tossed to the side.

Of course, you're easily expendable. You're something that's perfect to be fond of.

You loved (you still love him, but refuse to admit it since you're moving on from him) Coriolanus, but he's just fond of you. Just your shitty luck, huh?

But, despite how you feel, the yearly salary that Coriolanus promised you was more than enough to rent your apartment and to give you a life that your mother and brother always dreamed of for you. A life where you're able to be successful. And perhaps you'll be able to find love again while attending various social events that are only exclusive to high Capitolite society.

“Fine, I'll do it. I'll take you up on your job offer.” You told him, hoping that you wouldn't regret saying yes.

“Wonderful, darling.” Coriolanus smiled widely, pearly whites on full display. He thought that he'd gotten you right where he wanted you, but he has no idea that you're just using the new career move to secure a future in Panem.

A future without him. One where you can rely on yourself and show everyone that you're perfectly capable of being successful in the dog eat dog world of Capitol City, Panem.

Plus, there won't be any work drama at the Odair company if/when you and Odysseus decide to work things out and get back together.

Tags: @kuroosbby001 @purriteen @poppyflower-22 @meetmeatyourworst @whipwhoops @bxtchopolis @readingthingsonhere @savagenctzen @ryswritingrecord @erikasurfer @tulips2715 @universal-s1ut @thesmutconnoisseur @squidscottjeans @sudek4l @wearemadeofstardust0 @mashiromochi @gracieroxzy @belcalis9503 @shari-berri @aoi-targaryen @whiteoakoak @spear-bearing-bi-witch @gisellesprettylies @loverandqueenofdragons @qoopeeya @mfnqueen1 @permanentlyexhaustedpigeon88 @v-love @swiftieblyth @joyfulyouthlover @harvey-malfoy @tian-monique @chxrrybomb22 @marvel-hiddles-stark @xjinnix @devils-blackrose @zombicupcake3 @dcylight-fciry

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terrifiedlimechime · 2 months ago

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okokok here we are again

the yapper opened her mouth quick get the ear plugs 🙄

so when I think of the stan twins I think of idyllic seaside area...about twenty minutes away because glass shard beach really lives up to its name, polluted and covered in beer bottles as well as sea glass

and the pawn shop, well, not a place for kids, but filbrick couldn't care less

man up boys it's time to learn how to haggle!

and although the stan twins have...a...relatively...interesting life (if selling overpriced junk is interesting to you) filbrick decides that these kids have it way too good. off to the countryside, you pampered little-

well, gravity falls is a...remote place. so with a bottle of sunscreen and a boot up the ass the stans are off to take on gravity falls with grunkle dipper! (or grauntie mabel. im considering having dipper impersonate mabel. MAYBE.)

and dipper is HARSH to ford. like...real harsh. dipper liked all that science stuff when he was a kid, and where did that get him? running a shitty tourist attraction with a box of fake ids under his desk. (sad) ford stumbles into the forest, hits tree, the whole journal finding scene. and branded with a shooting star is a journal describing all the anomalies of gravity falls.

not a massive scientific document, rather a brief study and description of the different creatures, how to protect and slaughter some of the more dangerous (and/or wearable) kinds aswell as various garments inspired by them

the whole tourist trapped gnomes take mabel away thing is flipped to a large group of fairies taking stan (more love for stan please 🙏) to be their king, bla bla bla, fly swatter instead of leaf blower, swat swat that's it, good job guys

in the time travelers pig (possum..rat thing?) we see stan win shanklin by guessing how many fleas are on him (old fifteen 'er) while ford tries to impress fiddleford by winning him a gobblewonker plush (fmcg: "I don't know what that monstergamajig is...but I want it!")

then we meet.... BILL!

bill and gideon are swapped in this au, so bill is a human with his own telepathy tent, branded with a triangle and famed for its "mind tricks"

he never takes off that stupid triangular eyepatch...

dipper...well dipper hates him. "that little brat, always calling me pine tree, making fun of the shack"

and immediately, like gideon, bill is drawn to ford, flattery, "mysteries? haha I love them we should totally talk ab them",n stuff, yadayada

till bill tries to rizz him up asks him out on a date, the whole "omg I don't like him like that can't we be friends again" "no hes gon fall on love" stanley to stanford convo happens, stan breaks up w bill for ford, bill goes apeshit, uses a triangular amulet like gideons, basically what happens w gideon in the show him up asks him out on a date, the whole "omg I don't like him like that can't we be friends again" "no hes gon fall on love" stanley to stanford convo happens, stan breaks up w bill for ford, bill goes apeshit, uses a triangular amulet like gideons, basically what happens w gideon in the show

BUT (I over thought this reference way too much) when defeating bill, ford pretends to be on bills side, bill gives him the amulet and tells him to wipe his brothers mind, ford pretends to, stanley uppercuts bill in the face and ford breaks the amulet, all is saved

b: "CURSE YOU PINE TREE!!"

later in the series, more mysteries are solved, maybe candy/ grenda take the place of soos? idrk, stan and ford set up dipper with pacifica (bcuz i said so)

and guess who billy boo boo summons?

none other then gideon chaos-god gleeful!

the whole gideon-bill scene flipped (i like to think human bill is more confident then human gideon in it tho) and bill and gideon make a deal (idk if i should js tweak gideons human design or make him his telepathy tent star) and instead of bills blind godly confidence and obvious flattery, gideon is all texas charm, the whole shabang

he invades stans mind for the mystery shack deeds, yadayada...

but there's something going on with grunkle dipper...

under the shack, by night dipper tries to fix the portal. the catwalk is in a wreck, and the portal is just about operational (he has a picture of the twins aswell as mabels perfume that she left in the house down there. its the same one she used as a teen and its the only thing that keeps him from falling apart on the bad days)

he's not what he seems.

(might write more, might fling myself off s cliff in the meantime)

#what a ramble lol #gravity falls #relativity falls #billford #the book of bill #stanley pines #stanford pines #young stanford pines #young stan pines #fiddleford mcgucket #gideon gleeful #human bill cipher #too many tags

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jetii · 1 month ago

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Event Horizon

Chapter Thirteen: A Moment's Peace

Chapter WC: 7,041

A/N: screams in love triangle

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter | Join the Taglist | Masterlist

Saleucami, 21 BBY

When you finally awake, it's nearly morning. You can see the first rays of sunlight creeping over the horizon, and the air is filled with the sounds of birdsong. You're lying on a cot, a blanket draped over your body, and your armor has been removed. You sit up with a groan, and you immediately regret it as a sharp pain shoots through your body.

A hand lands on your shoulder and pushes you back down. "Easy there, sir. Don't strain yourself."

Echo's voice is calm and reassuring, and you let out a sigh as he eases you back onto the cot. You're sore all over, but you're still in one piece. And for that, you're grateful.

"How long have I been out?" you mumble, your voice hoarse, and you rub your eyes with the heels of your palms. The headache that's pounding in the back of your skull is a dull throb. You've had worse. You'll survive.

"Most of the night," Echo replies. He's sitting beside you, and he smiles when you look up at him. "How do you feel?"

"Like I've been hit by a speeder," you chuckle. You shift on the cot and grimace. "Or twenty."

"I'm not surprised. You lost a lot of blood," Echo says. "Kix stitched you up good. You should be fine."

"Thanks," you reply. "And, thanks for, you know, looking after me."

Echo shrugs. "Just doing my job, sir."

"Still," you say, and you sit up, wincing as the pain flares through your shoulder. You reach out and squeeze his hand. "I appreciate it."

He nods, a faint blush on his cheeks, and he clears his throat. "Anytime, sir. It wasn't all me. Kix did most of the work."

"Where is he?" you ask. "Did he get some sleep?"

"A little," Echo replies. "He's outside. We all took shifts watching over you."

"Why?" you ask, confused. It's not like you're in any immediate danger. At least, not that you're aware of. "I was fine."

"We were worried about you, sir. After what happened with the transport, we just wanted to make sure," Echo says. "Kix said it was best if you stayed awake, but, well, he passed out pretty quick after the fight. He's a bit worn out."

"I'll bet," you murmur guiltily. "Sorry for worrying you. I was tired."

"That's one word for it," Echo chuckles. He stands up and walks over to a table, picking up a canteen and a pack of rations. He hands them both to you, his expression stern. "Now, eat. And drink. Please."

You take the items and smile. "Thank you."

"You're welcome, sir," he says.

You nod and turn your attention to the rations, tearing open the pack and taking a bite. The two of you sit quietly for a moment, listening to the sounds of the early morning. You look around the tent, taking note of the other cots. Hardcase and Fives are both fast asleep on the ones nearest to yours, their armor removed and neatly stacked on the ground. Most of the other beds are empty, and the tent is still.

You're glad. It means the other men are recovering well, and there isn't a crowd of faces staring at you. You don't particularly enjoy being the center of attention, especially not in the form of concerned looks and quiet murmurs.

You finish your meal, and the food helps settle your stomach. You feel more alert now, the exhaustion fading, and the ache in your muscles lessens. You're still tired, and the pain in your shoulder is enough to make you wish you were still unconscious, but there's another sensation nagging at the back of your mind.

You turn back to Echo. "Have you seen一"

"He commed earlier to say he was on his way," Echo replies. There's a knowing look in his eye, and his mouth twists into a small smirk.

"Oh," you say, a little flustered. You hadn't realized the question was so obvious, but you can't stop the smile that creeps across your lips at the thought of seeing him again. "Good."

He nods, and the two of you lapse into a comfortable silence. The only sound is the chirping of birds, the voices of the camp, and the soft rustle of the breeze through the trees. You lean back and stare at the canvas ceiling, enjoying the warmth and quiet. It's a welcome change from the chaos of the past few days, and you can't help but relax a little.

The peace doesn't last, though.

"General," Echo starts, and he hesitates, his eyes flicking toward the others and back before leaning closer, his voice lowering, "Can I ask you a question?"

"Sure," you reply slowly. You're not sure what's causing the sudden shift in his demeanor. He's usually so calm and professional. Now he seems...nervous. It's a little concerning, and you can feel yourself start to tense.

He doesn't say anything at first, his eyes searching yours as if looking for an answer. You force a smile, hoping it will help him feel more at ease, and, finally, he takes a deep breath and speaks.

"It's nothing. Well, maybe not nothing. I'm not sure. I guess..." He trails off, his expression pinched, and you can feel the unease radiating from him. "Ah, it's nothing. Never mind."

"No, really," you urge him, sitting up a little straighter, ignoring the flare of pain the movement causes. You place a hand on his shoulder, and his body is tense beneath your touch. "What's wrong? You can talk to me."

Echo bites his lip, and the look in his eyes is almost pleading. He looks like he's about to confess a murder, and you can't imagine what could have him so worked up. He's not usually one to hesitate when it comes to sharing his thoughts.

"I was just...wondering," he starts, and he takes a deep breath, letting the air out slowly. "Were you the Jedi Rex saved on Geonosis?"

"I..."

Your mouth goes dry, and the words die on your lips. The surprise is enough to make you dizzy, and your heart hammers in your chest. You're not sure what you were expecting, but it certainly wasn't that. Your hand quickly drops from Echo's shoulder and clenches into a fist at your side.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked," he stammers. "It's none of my business. I just...when we were talking yesterday..."

"Yes," you finally answer, your voice little more than a whisper. "Yes, I was."

Echo blinks, and his mouth falls open. For a moment, he just stares at you, his eyes wide. You're not sure how long the two of you sit there, frozen in place, but it feels like an eternity.

Finally, Echo glances over his shoulder at the sleeping forms of Fives and Hardcase, and when he turns back, the look on his face is one of sheer delight.

"What?" you ask warily.

"I knew it," he laughs, the sound low and soft, and he leans forward, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "I told Fives it had to be you. He didn't believe me, but I knew."

"What are you talking about?" you huff. The anxiety has faded now, replaced by irritation, and the scowl on your face only makes Echo laugh harder. "Is this a joke?"

"No," he chuckles. "Sorry. I just...it's funny. I mean, I suspected, but I wasn't sure."

"You suspected?" you repeat incredulously. You can feel the color draining from your face. You know you should just shut up, but you can't seem to stop the words from coming. "How did you figure it out?"

"Just a hunch," Echo replies. "Fives and I talked about it, and it just made sense. You're the only Jedi Rex ever talks about other than the General and Commander Tano. And he got kinda weird whenever anyone mentioned you."

"Weird?" you echo. You can feel the heat rising to your cheeks, and you're grateful the light is dim. This is not how you thought the conversation would go. "Weird how?"

"Just...well..." Echo trails off and glances at the others. They're both still sound asleep. "You know."

"No," you retort, the anger starting to bleed through into your voice. "I don't. Explain it to me."

"It's not like that," Echo insists. His expression is serious now, and he looks almost ashamed. "It's nothing, sir. Forget I said anything."

"Not a chance," you snap. "What did you mean?"

"Okay," he relents, his eyes flicking away from yours. He's clearly uncomfortable with the topic, but you're not backing down. You need answers. "Look, I'm not saying it's a bad thing. I think it's great, really. But, uh, well...he's...you know."

"What?"

“I don't want to offend you or anything, but he was always really...protective...of you," Echo mutters, his words rushed. "Even before we met you. I don't know. I just figured something must have happened."

"Oh," you murmur. You can’t seem to find anything more intelligent to say. The flush is spreading from your face down your neck, and you pick up the canteen, hoping the cool liquid will help. It doesn't. "Right."

You can't look at Echo right now. It's too much, too embarrassing. He's probably staring at you with a look of pity on his face, and you're sure he's wondering why the hell you're so upset about the whole thing. But you can't help it. This isn't something you ever expected him to bring up, and it's definitely not something you're prepared to talk about.

"I'm sorry," Echo says quickly. He pats your shoulder awkwardly. "I shouldn't have brought it up. I just—I didn't think it was true. But, clearly, I was wrong. It's...it's okay. I won't tell anyone if you don't want me to."

"It's fine," you sigh. You can't even bring yourself to shrug his hand off. What's the point? He knows. And there's no hiding it now. "It's not a secret. Not really."

"Really?" he asks, surprised, and he withdraws his hand. "Then why didn't you tell us?"

"It's...complicated," you mutter as your hands twist in the blanket that covers you. You can't keep the bitterness from your voice. "That was a difficult day for both of us."

"I bet," Echo murmurs. He glances away, his expression thoughtful, and then back at you. "Rex doesn't talk about it much. We know the basics, but that's about it. I'm guessing you don't like to talk about it either."

"I don't," you admit. "It's...hard."

"I'm sure," he replies. He's quiet for a moment before continuing. "For what it's worth, I think you guys make a great team."

"Thanks," you mutter, though it's a half-hearted response.

"I'm not lying. Really," he says, and there's a note of sincerity in his voice. "And, between you and me, I think he's happier when you're around. It's nice. Makes him less uptight."

You snort at the comment. "Rex is never going to be less uptight."

"Nah, probably not," Echo chuckles. "But he is better when you're here. We all are."

"Well, thank you," you reply, and the tension leaves your shoulders as a faint smile spreads across your lips. "I appreciate that. Truly."

"Don't mention it," he says. "We've been through a lot together, and we're always glad to have you around."

"Thanks," you murmur. You're not sure what else to say. The awkwardness is still lingering in the air, and the conversation is a bit stilted. Still, you're grateful that Echo is trying to make things easier for you. He's a good person. And he's loyal to a fault. It's a quality you admire, even if it's a bit frustrating at times.

The two of you sit there for a moment, neither one willing to speak. The silence is growing heavier by the second, and you can feel the anxiety creeping back into your mind. It's getting harder and harder to stay calm, and the tension is starting to make your head ache. You rub your temples and sigh.

"I'm going to check in with Obi-Wan," you finally say, and you begin the laborious process of sitting up. "Make sure everything's okay."

"Of course," Echo replies. He stands, holding out a hand. "Can I help?"

"Please," you sigh, and you take his hand, using it to steady yourself. He keeps a firm grip on your arm, and together, the two of you stagger out of the tent. The fresh air is cool on your skin, and the sun is just starting to rise over the horizon. Once he's sure you're steady on your feet, Echo lets you go.

"Thank you for keeping me company," you say. "You didn't have to."

"No problem," Echo replies with a smile. "You know we've got your back, right, sir?"

"Right," you mutter. You're not entirely sure how you feel about that, but you manage to keep your frown to yourself.

You give him a final wave and start walking over to where Obi-Wan's tent is pitched. The camp is already starting to come to life, and you can hear the sounds of the men moving about. You're relieved to see that most of them seem to be unharmed, though a few are sporting visible injuries.

Cody is standing outside the tent with him, and the two seem to be deep in conversation. You walk toward them, careful to stay out of earshot. You don't want to interrupt their discussion, but, as you approach, the voices carry to you.

"...not sure. She seemed fine," Cody is saying. "A little quiet, but I expected that. You know she doesn't like this."

"Are you sure?" Obi-Wan asks. He's pacing back and forth, his arms crossed over his chest. "She was acting strange."

"Maybe a little," Cody concedes. "But she's been under a lot of pressure lately. It's only natural for her to get stressed."

"I suppose," Obi-Wan says, though his tone is unconvinced. He sighs, rubbing his forehead. When his hand falls, his face is pinched, his brow furrowed in thought. You wait for him to continue, but he suddenly straightens and turns to face you, your eyes meeting across the distance.

You freeze, your mouth falling open in surprise, and the realization dawns on you. You had been so wrapped up in your own emotions, so consumed by the stress and guilt, that you had neglected to keep a tight grip on your connection to the Force. The energy swirls around you, a maelstrom of worry and concern, and the emotions are pouring off you in waves.

"Shit," you breathe, and you quickly pull back, drawing the energy into yourself, and the world grows quiet once more. Obi-Wan frowns, but his expression quickly shifts into something more neutral.

You know what's coming, and there's no stopping it now.

You take a deep breath, bracing yourself for the inevitable lecture, and as you cross the final few feet between you, the two turn to face you. Cody nods a greeting while Obi-Wan just gives you a look. The concern on his face is unmistakable, and he opens his mouth to speak, but Cody beats him to it.

"Good morning, sir," he says. His gaze flickers to the bandage wrapped around your shoulder and back up to meet your eyes.

"Good morning," you say, forcing a smile. You can't seem to look Obi-Wan in the eye. "Sleep well?"

"As well as can be expected," Obi-Wan replies. He's giving you that look out of the corner of your eye, the one that says he's disappointed, but you ignore it just as you ignore the waves of frustration rolling off him. "Are you feeling better? I heard you gave the men a bit of a fright."

"Yeah, sorry," you reply. "It won't happen again."

"See that it doesn't," Obi-Wan admonishes. “How’s your arm?”

You rub the back of your neck sheepishly, and the movement sends a twinge of pain down your arm. You're definitely going to feel that for the next few days. "A little sore."

"Imagine that," he quips. He turns to Cody. "If you would excuse us for a moment."

"Of course," Cody replies. He smiles and nods his head before turning and heading towards Waxer and Boil. Obi-Wan watches him go for a moment before turning back towards you, sporting a stern look.

"You一"

You hold up a hand.

"Before you say anything," you start, and you glance around to make sure nobody is within earshot. The last thing you need is an audience. "Can we just not right now? It's too early."

"Fine," he concedes. He crosses his arms and sighs. "How bad is it? Really. Don't lie, you know I’ll be able to tell.”

"It's not great," you admit. "But I've had worse. A lot worse. Honestly, it's fine. I'll survive."

"That's not reassuring."

"Neither is yelling at me."

"I don't yell," he grumbles, the irritation clear in his voice. "And if you'd just listened to me..."

"I'm fine," you say firmly. You know you're pushing your luck, but you can't stop yourself. "It's just a flesh wound."

"It's not just a flesh wound. Not with you. I don't need the Force to tell me that," he replies, and the sharpness of his tone is enough to make you flinch. "You know better. You can't risk一"

"Obi-Wan!"

The sharpness of your tone catches you both off guard. Your cheeks burn, and a wave of embarrassment washes over you. It's not like you to snap at him like that, and the way his eyes widen in shock is proof enough of that.

A few of the troopers look in your direction, their heads snapping up from the conversation they'd been engrossed in. You glare at them until they look away, and then you lower your voice and continue. "Not now. Please."

He opens his mouth and then closes it. There's a flicker of pain in his eyes, and he turns away. "You're right. I'm sorry."

"No, I'm sorry," you mumble. The fight leaves you in an instant, and the shame settles heavy on your shoulders. "I didn't mean to...I know you're worried, and I appreciate it, but I'm fine."

"I know," he says quietly. "I just can't help it."

"I know," you sigh.

The two of you stand there for a moment, neither one daring to speak. There's a lump in your throat, and the weight of the emotions is making it hard to breathe.

You want nothing more than to wrap him in a hug and apologize. You want to tell him everything will be okay, that it's going to be fine. That the war will end soon, and you'll have time to heal and figure things out.

But you can't. Because it's not going to end. It's only just begun.

"I'll be more careful next time," you say finally. You look up and meet his eyes, and the hurt and concern reflected there are enough to make your heart clench. "I promise."

"Okay," he says, and he gives you a weak smile. "And, please, try not to scare the men again."

"I'll do my best," you chuckle. The heaviness in the air has eased, and some of the tension has drained away.

"I know you will," he says, and his expression softens.

"So are we good?" you ask hesitantly. You're not sure what else there is to say.

"For now," he replies, and his smile turns sad. "I can't promise I won't say anything later."

Obi-Wan's eyes drift up to the sky, and the smile slips from his lips. He looks tired, and there's a hint of resignation in his gaze. You follow his line of sight, your eyes settling on a black dot among the clouds growing larger by the second.

A Republic transport is approaching with haste, making a beeline straight for you. It's flying low, and the dust and dirt kicked up by its landing sends a cloud billowing over the camp.

"We're headed to Dantooine," Obi-Wan announces, raising his voice as the ship starts its descent. "Master Windu is in need of our aid."

Your stomach churns at the idea of being thrown into another warzone, but you swallow and nod. "Okay, I'll be ready."

"Not you," Obi-Wan corrects, and he holds up a hand when you start to protest. "You need time to rest and heal. That's an order."

"But一"

"I mean it," he says firmly. "Go home. Take some time for yourself. If not for your sake, then for mine. I'll send word to Anakin and let him know to expect you."

The fight leaves you, and your shoulders sag. It's pointless to argue. You're exhausted, and you can barely walk. Even if you wanted to go, it's not like you'd make much of a difference. You're more likely to get in the way, and that's the last thing you need. You've already proven yourself useless once. You're not keen on repeating the experience.

“Fine,” you mutter as the ship touches down, sending another plume of dust swirling around the camp. "I'll go. But only because you asked so nicely."

"I appreciate that," he says with a wry smile. He reaches out and gives your uninjured shoulder a gentle squeeze. "Take care of yourself. I'll comm you as soon as I have news."

"Yeah," you reply. Your throat is tight, and you swallow, trying to push back the wave of sadness that threatens to overwhelm you. It's not fair. You hate being left behind, and, even worse, you know Obi-Wan will be worrying about you while he's gone.

"Hey," Obi-Wan says. His tone is soft, and his gaze is full of understanding. The hand on your shoulder drifts up to your neck, and his fingers curl gently against the side of your head. You can feel the worry in him, but there's something else, too, a feeling you can't quite place.

"What is it?" you ask, the question slipping from your lips before you can stop yourself.

"Don't forget that I love you," he murmurs. He pulls you close, his breath warm against your cheek, and he presses a soft kiss to your forehead. "And I'm proud of you."

"I—thanks," you mumble. The tears well up in your eyes, and you blink them away, swallowing past the lump in your throat. "I'll see you soon."

He holds you for a moment, studying your features, and the worry on his face is etched in every line and crease. He tilts your head up and leans in, and your heart clenches with a sudden wave of anxiety, inexplicably fearful that he may kiss you. It's irrational. He wouldn't do that. Not here, not with the men around.

Still, you're unable to stop the flutter of panic that runs through your chest, and you suck in a breath as his mouth draws close to yours.

And then he turns his head and kisses your cheek.

"May the Force be with you," he says quietly, and he lets go of you. He gives you a final smile before stepping back and turning towards the ship. "And stay out of trouble."

Obi-Wan doesn't give you a chance to respond, walking toward the ship without another word. You watch him go, your thoughts a jumbled mess of relief and disappointment, and you rub absently at your neck.

"And with you," you murmur, and you sigh as you watch him rejoin Cody. He says something to him, and the Commander nods, signaling for the 212th to prepare to board the transport. In the distance, you can see the 501st doing the same. The men are gathering their supplies and checking their gear, taking down tents and packing crates. Fives is chatting with Echo and Hardcase, while Jesse and Kix are arguing about something.

You stay back, observing the scene. It's strangely peaceful, and the calm is a stark contrast to the chaos that filled the day before. Despite the ache in your muscles and the lingering exhaustion and anxiety, you can't help but feel grateful. It's over.

For now, at least.

Boarding the transports that arrive one by one is slow going, and it’s early afternoon by the time the 501st is ready to leave. You stand by as the men move into formation, and your eyes sweep over the ranks, searching for a familiar blue pauldron.

You know you won’t find him. There hasn’t been any sign of Rex thus far, and while you can feel his unmistakable presence in the Force drawing nearer to your location, you know you won’t be satisfied until you see him with your own eyes.

Still, you can’t keep a whole battalion waiting for one man, no matter how important or missed he may be. So you take a deep breath and let the air out slowly before addressing the assembled troops. You don't have much of a speech prepared, and you're not the best public speaker, but the men seem happy enough to see you, even if you're not their general.

"Hey," you start, and the men fall silent. Their helmets turn towards you, and the weight of their gazes is a palpable thing. You shift your weight from foot to foot uncomfortably. "Thank you for everything you did yesterday. I know it was...difficult. But you kept your heads. You're all brave men, and I'm proud to serve alongside you."

There's a chorus of cheers and whistles from the crowd. A few of the men even stomp their feet and raise their blasters into the air. It's a bit excessive, but you appreciate the enthusiasm nonetheless.

"I'm gonna miss you guys," you say, and there's a tittering of laughter from the ranks. A few of the troopers call out their own sentiments, and the group grows louder. You can't help but grin, and the expression feels foreign on your face.

“We’ll be headed back to Coruscant for some R&R," you continue. "And then you’ll get the go-ahead for your next assignment. So take advantage of this downtime. Enjoy the peace. Relax. Spend time with each other. You've earned it."

Another cheer erupts from the crowd, and you glance around, hoping someone will step forward and take charge of the situation. No such luck.

"Okay, that's it," you announce lamely. "Get on the damn ship and go home."

More cheering and whooping follow the declaration, and the men shuffle into place. There's a line of them stretching up the ramp, and as the first group of soldiers disappears inside, the ones standing near you start moving towards the transport. You step back and watch them go, giving each one a quick nod and smile as they pass. It's a tight fit, and there are a lot of clones, but everyone seems happy enough. It's good. They deserve a break.

"General," a voice calls, and you look up to see Kix approaching as the first transport takes off, another moving to take its place. He's dressed in his full gear, helmet tucked under his arm, and his expression is a strange mix of amusement and exasperation. "Glad to see you up and about."

"Thanks," you say, and you offer him a smile. “How are you?”

"I'm fine," he says with a shrug. "Just trying to make sure everyone else is too."

"I'm glad," you reply. "Thank you for everything you've done. I'm sorry if I was...combative. I'm not the best patient."

"You weren't that bad," he chuckles. "Jesse is much worse. Always complaining and trying to skip out on his shots. And Hardcase has a habit of picking at his stitches."

You make a face, and he smirks at your discomfort.

"Sounds like fun,” you say wryly.

"Something like that," he snorts.

"I'll be sure to avoid that in the future," you laugh.

"Please do." He reaches into his pack, pulling out a bottle that rattles as he holds it out to you.

“Here,” he says, and you take it, glancing at the label. “For the pain.”

"I told you. I'm fine," you reply, and you try to give it back to him, but he pushes your hand away. "Really. You should save these for someone who needs them."

"You need them. I'm not taking no for an answer," Kix insists. "You've got a few long weeks ahead of you. Better to start taking them now."

"Fine," you concede with a sigh. You dump two pills into your hand and tip your head, swallowing them dry. They stick in your throat, and you wince. "Happy?"

"Ecstatic," he retorts, his tone droll. "Now, take it easy. And keep those pills on you. I want you to take one every six hours. Understand?"

"Yes, sir," you say with a mock salute, and Kix rolls his eyes.

"Very funny," he grumbles. He looks toward the ship landing behind him and sighs. "I have to go. Jesse and I are on this one. I just wanted to make sure you were okay."

"Thank you," you murmur, touched by his concern. And the pills are already starting to work. You can feel the familiar warmth spreading through your veins, and your shoulders sag. "Take care of yourself. I'll see you soon."

His brows raise. “You’re not coming?”

“I’ll catch the next one,” you say. "I need to check on some things. And I want to wait for Rex. Make sure he’s okay.”

Kix frowns and glances over his shoulder at the ship. It's fully loaded and ready to go. You can see Fives and Echo waving at him, beckoning him over. He turns back, his gaze sweeping over your face. "I can stay with you if you'd like."

"No," you reply quickly. You shake your head and give him a smile. "You go. I'll be alright. I can't keep you from your brothers."

"Sir, he's fine," he says, and he takes a step forward, his eyes searching your face. "We talked to him. He's doing well. He just needs to rest."

"I know," you sigh. Your hands twist in the front of your robe as you bite your lip. The ache in your chest has returned. It's a dull throb, and it makes your heart feel heavy. You hate it. You look away, your gaze fixed on the horizon. "I just need to see him, make sure for myself."

"Oh," he breathes. The word is barely a whisper, and you grimace at the tone. You can feel his eyes on you, studying you, and he nods slowly. "Okay. I understand."

You meet his gaze, and the corners of his lips curl upward. He's smiling at you, but the expression is tinged with sadness. It's a strange look, and it makes you nervous. You don't like the way he's staring at you, and you shift uncomfortably, crossing your arms.

“Get moving, trooper,” you say. Your voice is gruffer than intended, and the words come out harsh, but you don't apologize. "That's an order."

Kix blinks at the change in tone, but he recovers quickly, his face breaking into a wide grin. He salutes, his fist resting over his heart, and the gesture is followed by a deep bow. "Sir, yes, sir."

He turns and walks back towards the transport. You watch as he boards, pausing to say a few final words to Jesse, who’s leaning against the side of the ship. His expression is stern, and the other clone nods, standing upright and putting a hand over his heart. Kix returns the nod, and the two exchange a few more words before Jesse moves back inside the transport.

Kix looks back towards you, and he waves before the door slides shut, blocking him from view. The engines flare, and the ship lifts into the sky in a smooth ascent, and soon it's disappearing over the horizon.

Once it's out of sight, you turn and walk towards the outskirts of the clearing, your eyes on the forest. Rex should be here soon. You can feel his presence growing stronger with every passing moment. You close your eyes and reach out with the Force. The trees are whispering, telling you where to go, and you follow their lead.

In the aftermath of the dust and dirt kicked up by the departing ship, a figure begins to emerge from the treeline in front of you. You shield your eyes and squint, trying to see through the haze.

The air begins to clear, and you watch as an eopie lopes toward you, its rider bobbing slightly with its movement. The sun glints off the armor of the clone atop the creature. His hair is matted and dirty, and his face is covered in dust and soot, but the smile on his lips is unmistakable, and his eyes are bright and warm.

You feel your heart leap, and you rush towards him as fast as your legs will carry you. The eopie kneels, and Rex dismounts, grabbing his helmet from its back and moving toward you with a swiftness that's almost surprising.

Your pace slows, and you stop a few feet from him, taking in the dents and scratches on his armor that weren’t there the day before. The most noticeable change is the large blaster hole on his chest piece, near dead center. It's singed and charred, and it makes your stomach churn. You can't bring yourself to look him in the eye, still focused on the damage to his armor.

"General," he greets, his voice hoarse and tired.

You don't respond. You're not sure what to say. You've missed him, and you're so relieved that he's alive, but all you can focus on is the hole in his chest.

"Hey."

The sound of his voice makes you jump, and you look up to see him staring at you. His gaze is piercing, and his brows are furrowed. He's worried. You can tell by the crease between his eyes and the way his jaw is set, and it's making the ache in your chest grow worse.

You open your mouth to speak, but the words die on your lips, and you swallow hard. You know you need to say something, anything, but your mind is blank.

"Are you alright?”

"Me?" you croak, and you gesture to the hole. "I'm fine. You—"

"Are fine," he finishes for you. He smiles, but there's a hint of sadness in the expression. He steps closer and reaches out, his hands hovering by your shoulders for a moment before he lets them drop, his eyes scanning the landscape behind you. "Are…we alone?”

"Yeah," you reply, and your brows furrow in confusion. "Why? Is something wrong?"

"No," he murmurs, his voice is soft and low. Rex takes another step closer, his boots crunching in the dirt, until you’re practically pressed against his chest. "I'm sorry."

"For what?"

His eyes drift down to your shoulder, and his hand gently traces the bandages that wrap around your arm. "Kix told me you got hurt. I'm sorry I couldn't be there."

"Rex," you breathe, and you place a hand over his. "I'm fine. I'll live."

"Still," he sighs. "I hate seeing you like this."

"Like what?"

"In pain."

"Oh," you mutter.

You don't know how to respond to that. It's such a simple statement, but it carries a weight that makes your heart clench.

You swallow and look down, avoiding his gaze as your hand falls away. "Well, it's not your fault."

"I know.” He sighs again and rubs the back of his neck. "But I can't help it."

"Rex..."

"I know. It's not my place."

"No," you agree softly. “It’s not.”

Rex nods solemnly and steps away, his gaze dropping back to the ground. You watch as he turns and walks back toward the eopie. It's chewing on the leaves of a nearby tree, its tail flicking lazily, and he strokes the creature's flank and gives it a pat. The eopie snorts and lowers its head, nuzzling his hand before moving back towards the trees.

You’re both silent, and you stare after the animal as it disappears into the forest. Your thoughts are racing, and you're not sure how to articulate the turmoil in your mind. The words are on the tip of your tongue, but you can't bring yourself to speak.

Rex turns back to you and takes a deep breath. There’s an intensity to his gaze that’s disarming, and you feel yourself rooted in place. Your throat tightens, and you swallow, forcing down the lump in your throat.

“It is though."

The words are so quiet, you barely hear them.

"What?"

"It is my place," he says. His voice is strained, and his eyes are fixed on yours. You can't tell what he's thinking. You can't even guess, but the way his eyes are locked on yours is enough to make the hair on the back of your neck stand up.

"Rex," you begin, and you lick your lips, your mouth suddenly dry. "I can't—"

"I know," he interrupts, and the words come out rushed. He shakes his head and looks away, his brow furrowed in thought. He stares off into the distance, and his hands clench and unclench at his sides.

“I was afraid," Rex admits, his gaze moving back to you. "When I heard the news. That you'd been injured. I couldn't stop thinking about how much I'd...how much we'd lose. If anything happened to you."

"Rex," you sigh, and you cross your arms, hugging yourself tightly. The admission is both painful and exhilarating. "I don't know what to say."

"You don't have to say anything," he replies. He takes a shaky breath, and the corners of his mouth lift. "Just glad you're okay."

"Thank you," you whisper. You can't think of anything else to say. You just stand there, staring at him, unable to formulate a coherent thought. You know what you want to tell him, but you can't get the words out. Your brain is screaming at you, begging you to speak, but your mouth refuses to cooperate. And so the two of you remain motionless, frozen in the moment.

Rex is the first to break the silence. "We should head back."

"Yes," you murmur. You nod slowly and blink. "We should."

"Right," he sighs, and he moves past you. His arm brushes yours as he passes, and a shiver runs through you. He stops and turns back, his brows furrowed in concern. "Are you sure you're okay?”

“I…”

You trail off and shake your head. You're not okay, not even a little bit. And the longer you stay here with him, staring into his eyes, the less okay you feel. But you can’t help yourself, can't pull yourself away.

It's not a good idea. It’s foolish, not when there's no telling who might be watching, but you're past caring. You're too exhausted to be afraid. Too tired to fight the impulse.

You take a deep breath and dart forward, your arms wrapping around his torso. You press your face into his chest plate and cling to him, your hands trembling, and you can feel the tears pricking the corners of your eyes. You're being ridiculous, but you don’t care. You just need to be close to him, to feel him against you, to know that he's real and alive.

Rex doesn't react immediately. He stands completely still, letting you hold him, but after a moment, his arms slowly circle your shoulders. His grip is light, almost tentative, as if he's afraid of hurting you. But when you squeeze him tighter, he hugs you back.

His helmet falls to the ground with a thud, and you can feel him burying his face in your hair. His breath is warm against the top of your head. One hand drifts down to the small of your back, while the other slides up to cradle the back of your neck, and his fingers curl into your hair.

He pulls you closer, tighter as your breath hitches and a sob escapes your lips. You can feel the warmth spreading across your face as the tears start to fall, hard and fast. They trickle down your cheeks and onto his armor, and you press your face against him, the cold soothing against your skin.

“Rex," you choke out, and your voice cracks. The words are muffled by his chest, but you know he hears them all the same. "I thought...I was so scared..."

"I'm okay," he whispers, and his hand moves to stroke your hair. "I'm fine."

"I know," you hiccup. "But I couldn't help it."

"It's okay," he says gently, continuing to smooth the loose strands. It's a comforting sensation, and you let yourself relax into him, your hands sliding up his back. "I'm here."

"I know," you sigh. You lean against him, letting the full weight of your body rest on his chest. You can sense his heart pounding against his ribs, and you close your eyes and take a deep breath. "I'm sorry. I don't know what's wrong with me. I shouldn't一"

“Don’t,” he interrupts. He pulls back and looks down at you, his brows knitted together. He looks pained. "Please. Don't apologize. Not for this."

"But we一"

"Just...let me hold you," he pleads, his eyes searching your face. He looks almost desperate, and there's an urgency to his voice that makes your heart skip a beat. "Please. For a minute. That's all."

"Okay," you murmur, and you can feel yourself nodding. The movement is small, but it's enough, and Rex's lips curl upward.

You lean back into him, letting your cheek rest on him again as he lets out a deep exhale. Rex draws you close and rests his chin on the top of your head, and his hands return to their places on your back and neck.

Your fingers curl into his chest plate, and you breathe deeply. He smells like smoke and sweat, but there's a hint of something else. Something clean, and crisp, and familiar. You're not sure what it is, but it reminds you of home. Of safety. Of comfort.

He holds you tight, and the two of you stay like that for a long time, neither of you speaking, until your shoulder starts to ache. You wish you could stay here forever, but the last ship is waiting for you, and the last thing you want is for someone to come looking.

Reluctantly, you pull away, and the moment is broken. The reality sets in, the weight of the consequences pressing down on you. You've taken too many risks already. If anyone sees...If they suspect anything...the thought sends a shiver of fear down your spine. You need to put some distance between the two of you.

"We should get going," you murmur. You avoid looking at him, but you can feel his gaze burning into the side of your face.

"Right," Rex sighs. "The ship."

"I'm sorry," you apologize. "I know this isn't一"

"I understand," he says softly. "And I'm sorry too. For scaring you."

"You didn't do anything wrong," you insist. “I need to learn how to deal with this stuff. I shouldn't freak out like that."

"Don't," he says firmly. He reaches out and puts his hand on your shoulder. The touch is gentle, and it's meant to be reassuring, but it makes you wince.

He must notice, because his brows furrow and his expression turns concerned. “You're still in pain."

"I'll live," you grumble, and you shrug his hand off. "It's nothing."

“Did Kix give you any medicine?" he asks. He steps closer and peers down at your face. "Did he tell you what to do if it starts hurting again? You need to一"

"Rex," you interject, feeling a blush creeping up your neck. "I'm fine. I can handle it."

He frowns. "I don't think一"

"Rex," you interrupt. You take a deep breath and look up, your eyes searching his face. There's a bruise on his forehead, and a cut near his hairline, and he has a few days' worth of scruff on his cheeks. He looks rough. He needs a shower and a shave and a good night's sleep, but his eyes are warm, and his expression is earnest. "Just...take me home."

He's quiet for a moment. Something in your words makes him hesitate, and he looks away, his gaze focused on something behind you. The air feels heavy, and your chest tightens.

"Home," Rex repeats. There's an edge to his voice that makes you tense, and his eyes narrow. You wonder if you've gone too far, pushed too hard, but then he nods, and the moment is forgotten. "Of course. We should go."

You exhale and give him a grateful smile, and he returns it as he bends down to pick up his helmet. His arm brushes yours as he straightens, and he lingers close.

"You ready?" he asks, his voice low, barely more than a whisper.

“I think so," you murmur as you look down and stare at your feet. The boots are filthy, covered in mud and sand, and your robe is stained with blood. You look awful, but that's the least of your worries.

You feel a gentle touch on your hand, drawing you from your thoughts.

You barely stifle a gasp at the unexpected sensation, the barest brush of Rex’s hand against yours, so light and soft it could almost be mistaken for a breeze. It's a small gesture, but it's significant. It means something to you, and you can tell by the way his signature shifts and bends in the Force, glowing bright and warm, that it means something to him too.

Your breath catches, and your fingers curl, seeking his, but he steps away, putting a respectable distance between the two of you. You’re glad for it, despite the flare of disappointment that stabs at your chest. The rational part of you knows it's the right thing to do.

The two of you set off towards where the last transport is waiting without another word. You can see the clone manning the ramp watching you from the top of the incline, and your jaw clenches. You feel strangely exposed, like the trooper can read your thoughts, and you glance at Rex.

He seems unfazed, and his expression is calm, his face a mask of serenity. But there's a tension in his shoulders, and his signature is still aglow, pulsing and twisting, and it makes your palms sweat. You try to steady yourself, pushing the thoughts of his touch from your mind.

“Ready, sir?” the clone greets as the two of you approach. He salutes, and you return the gesture with a nod, your eyes sweeping over him. You’re almost certain this one is Mixer, and you make a note to check the roster later.

"Ready," Rex says, his tone light.

"Let's get out of here," you reply. You glance at Rex as he climbs the ramp ahead of you. "I'm ready for a hot meal and a shower."

"Me too," he grunts. He sounds exhausted. You wonder how much sleep he's gotten over the last two days. "And a shave.”

You bark out a laugh and follow him into the ship. “What a shame. I was starting to like the rugged look."

Rex freezes at the top of the ramp, his head whipping around to stare at you. He blinks, his brows raising in surprise before his lips curve into a wry smile, and he shakes his head. "Very funny, sir."

"I'm just saying. It was growing on me," you say with a shrug. "Suits you."

"Is that so?"

You bite the inside of your cheek to stop the grin threatening to spread across your face at the way his ears turn pink. "It's just an observation."

He chuckles, his gaze dropping to the floor as he rubs the back of his neck. He starts to reply, but the ramp is sliding closed behind you, and the words die in his throat.

The two of you are far from alone, and while the clones milling about the transport's interior are too distracted with their own affairs to notice the exchange, it's better not to chance it. Rex seems to realize this, and he settles for a pointed look as the ship rumbles to life, lifting off the ground.

“I’ll keep that in mind, sir,” he murmurs, his voice barely audible over the roar of the engines. You can’t hide your smile, and the corner of his mouth twitches too, his lips curving up into a matching grin.

He nods and walks away, making his way towards a group of his brothers. You watch as they welcome him back, the clones slapping his pauldron and clasping his hand in a one-armed hug.

Your eyes stay on them for a moment longer before you look away, making your way to the back of the ship and settling down in a corner. It's not a wise idea. You shouldn't even be thinking about him like that, and there are a hundred reasons not to, but you can't help but feel a little hopeful.

After all, you're both still alive. For now.

And maybe that's enough.

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#the clone wars #captain rex #clone captain rex #captain rex x reader #rex x reader #obi wan x reader #roy writes #IM SO HAPPY THIS CHAPTER IS FINALLY OUT AAAAHH

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