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taexual · 4 years ago

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i’d love you to stay but that’s simply insane // JJK (14)

jungkook is an uncontrollable lead vocalist of the campus band, and you’re a goal-oriented top student that’s known his rich and complicated family since childhood. you don’t want anything to do with each other, until each other is exactly what you want to do.

pairing: jeon jungkook x reader

genre: college au

warnings: it’s time they got down to business… or isn’t it 😳

words: 6.2k

chapter fourteen

You spent nearly the whole Saturday on the phone with Inna – because she refused to let you hang up until you gave her a play-by-play of last night’s party (and all that happened after) – and, by the time you finally ended the phone call, you were half-deaf from all of her—supportive but rather alarming—screaming.

And then, before you were ready for it, you and Jungkook had another Sunday night dinner at his parents’ house.

Admittedly, you thought you’d feel uncomfortable seeing his parents again after having learnt that they gave the push that convinced Jungkook to cut his ties with you off, but this feeling only clouded your mind for about fifteen minutes – or, in other words, for the period of time that it took for Jungkook to arrive from his house to your dormitory.

By the time he got here, all that was left in your mind – and in the air around you as soon as you opened the door to let him in – was ease. Routine.

Like you were supposed to spend every Sunday night with his family, holding hands with him under the dinner table. Like this wasn’t somehow weird or unusual, or even awkward. Like this was how it’d always been – with no seven-year-long gaps – and how it was always supposed to be.

Even touching Jungkook after the last time you’d seen him was, most surprisingly, not at all different from touching him before your last conversation. It still caused lighting bolts to explode inside of your stomach, and you were used to the sensation by now.

The only difference was that now you knew.

And knowing allowed you to truly come back to the life you were once a part of.

It felt like the last time you’d been to his house, you only allowed yourself to set one foot in, holding yourself back in case this would all go wrong and hurt you, but now you were ready to try again. Now you were ready to go into it with your whole body – open chest and all.

Sure, the possibility of getting hurt was still there – even if it didn’t feel like it when Jungkook joked about how his mom was more excited to see you than him – but sometimes you had to believe—not just hope—that nothing bad was going to happen, in order to make it true.

And truly nothing bad seemed on the horizon as Jungkook – true to the promise he’d made earlier this week – took you to the ice cream shop near his home as soon as dinner was over so you could pick up some desserts for yourselves. You found the chocolate-chip cookie-flavored ice cream – the one he knew you loved – and all was bliss.

“What is it with you,” you asked him when the two of you walked out of the shop and Jungkook was happily licking two different flavors on his cone – strawberry and mint, “and these flavors?”

“They’re good together,” he defended, pushing his cone towards you. “Want to try?”

You scrunched your nose. “No. I’ll stick with my chocolate—”

“Boring.”

“Hey,” you gave him a look, unaware of the chocolate around the corners of your lips and how utterly irresistible it made you look to him, “you’ve been picking the sweetest flavors of ice cream ever since we were kids. Don’t call me boring if I choose to postpone my diabetes diagnosis.”

“Neither of us is getting diabetes,” he said, absentmindedly extending his hand to wipe the chocolate from your lips and then sucking his thumb into his mouth.

You forgot what you were talking about for a moment as you looked away from him, your face burning hot at the sight, but your hands freezing cold from the ice cream.

Jungkook didn’t notice and carried on.

“Do you remember when we used to collect those wooden popsicle sticks for no reason when we were kids?” he asked.

“I—yeah, I remember,” you said, taking a distracted bite your ice cream and then wincing when your temples froze. “I-I’m pretty sure we had a reason, though. You said you wanted to build a Trojan horse.”

“Oh, that’s right!” his face lit up just like it did that day when you were eight and you told him you’d help him build it. “I never had enough patience for a project like that. Why did you get on board with it?”

“Because you were really excited for it,” you replied as nonchalantly as you could manage – even though you could see it in his eyes when you looked at him, he did not think this was nothing; it was important to him – and then hid your face in your ice cream again.

Jungkook watched you for another moment, his heart beating peacefully but his mind buzzing with memories. You always ate your ice cream the same way – nearly all of it at once – ever since you were a little kid. He’d always made fun of you for it – not cruelly, because seeing the exhilaration in your eyes and your ice-cream-covered face always made him feel inexplicably warm inside – but now he wanted to grab your hand, stop you, and clean your lips with his own.

“I still have the popsicle sticks in my room,” he said while his ice cream melted in the paper cup in his hand.

“You do?” you asked, turning to look at him and making his suffering so much worse when you wiped your mouth with the back of your hand. “Why did you keep them all this time?”

Jungkook was glad you’d reached the gate of his house because that meant he could turn his back to you as he fumbled with the lock – it wasn’t a complicated mechanism, he just needed to look at something else for a bit – and tried to get his lungs to function properly again.

“I don’t know,” he said, finally opening the gate. “I guess I was hoping to still build that horse one day.”

You scoffed at this – Jungkook gave you a dignified look in return – and lingered by the gate for a second before you realized that he’d stopped to let you enter first.

“I’m not mocking,” you explained in response to the look on his face. “It’s actually great that you kept it.”

His mouth dried up when he closed the gate and turned around to walk towards the house before noticing how warm your gaze was. Then, to avoid you reading through him and figuring out what he was feeling, he stuffed a mouthful of ice cream into his mouth.

“It is?” he asked with a slight lisp and then hissed as the freezing sensation went straight to his brain.

“Yeah,” you nodded, a more wary look in your eyes now that Jungkook was in pain from the self-inflicted brain-freeze. “It shows that you’re waiting until you’re mature enough to be able to invest your time into something that requires a lot of patience.”

Jungkook exhaled shakily – you assumed it was from the cold – and lead you past the impeccably-kept bushes in his front-yard, and towards the entrance into his house.

“Yeah, no,” he said, finishing his ice cream in a few large bites that must have very literally frozen his throat. He tried not to let it show as he said in a very breathy voice, “I don’t think it’s that deep.”

You shrugged your shoulders, slowly finishing your own ice cream as you brought your free hand over the vines that ran alongside the front wall of his house. “Maybe you don’t realize it.”

“Or maybe I kept the sticks because they reminded me of you.”

You stopped in front of his porch steps, unsure if you heard him right.

Swallowing the final bite of the chocolate-filled waffle cone, you looked at him in confusion – that was easy to mistake for disbelief, “hmm?”

Jungkook climbed up the steps – two at a time because he was always too impatient but, this time, also because he felt like he’d spoken too soon and he needed to put more distance between himself and you – and did not turn around to look at you until he fished his keys out from the pocket of his jeans, and unlocked the door.

“Yeah,” he said then, only giving you a glance as he opened the door and nodded his head inside, waiting for you to walk in first. “I still have a framed picture of us from middle school on my dresser.”

“Really?” you asked, looking at him even though he was now obviously avoiding your eyes.

There was even more surprise in your voice and it stung – you shouldn’t have been surprised about the fact that he cared enough to keep pictures that immortalized your friendship; but you were, and that was his fault – making him feel more self-conscious than he already was.

“Yeah,” Jungkook said and, smiling nervously, he stretched his hand behind his neck to scratch a nonexistent itch. “You want to see it?”

“Oh,” you were still standing on his doorstep while he was inviting you to his room. “Sure, yeah.”

You’d been to his room before – many times, in fact – so you hated the way the hairs on your skin stood up in anticipation. This wasn’t supposed to be any different from any other time you’d been in his room – was it? – and yet, you couldn’t help but remember that this was what you’d told yourself the last time you’d been there, too.

You two weren’t even the only people in his room that day – to celebrate the end of middle school, he’d invited his whole class – but, in your memory, everyone else was blurred and so dim that, sometimes, when you thought back on that day, you weren’t sure anyone else was even there. Or anywhere, for that matter. It’d felt like it was just you and him.

Clearing his throat, Jungkook suddenly brought you back to the present – and helped you realize just how hot your body was in spite of the excited shivers that ran down your back when you remembered his invitation – and you blinked before staggering inside.

Unaware of the several trips down memory lane that you’d taken while simply standing by his door, Jungkook extended a hand for you to take – and you took it, the movement automatic, as though you were in a well-rehearsed dance – and lead you towards the staircase.

You walked into his father on your way up the stairs, but he was on the phone so he merely gave his son a nod – and a smile for you – and then went on his way.

“You know, usually,” Jungkook said, sneering at the dismissal from his father, “parents would tell their kids to keep the door of their room open.”

Shivering again – but acting like you were most certainly not affected by the feeling of his palm against yours – you cocked an eyebrow at him.

“They would,” you said, licking your lips in an unconscious attempt to conceal the effect his not-at-all-innocent observation had on you, “but you’re twenty-three years old.”

He peered at you over his shoulder as he lead you down the second-floor hallway – nearly tripping over his feet when he saw you lick your lips – and then turned towards his room.

“Yes,” he said, “thank you for the newsflash,” and, stopping outside of his bedroom, he explained, “I meant, my parents never said that sort of thing to me. Not once.”

“Oh,” you caught on and lowered your eyes. “So, you brought a lot of people over, then?”

Jungkook smirked – you didn’t see this at first, but, when you raised your head again a minute later, confused by his silence, the smirk was still there – obviously very pleased to hear the not particularly well concealed shades of jealousy in your voice.

“None, actually. You’re the only one of my friends who’s been here,” he said then. “And I’ve already told you, I’ve never dated before.”

You were still unsure if he was pulling your leg. “Well, you don’t have to be dating people to bring them over to your—”

He pulled you into his room by your hand, not letting you finish your question. He closed the door and, this time, you two were really the only people here.

“I’m not like that,” he told you then, “but I understand where you’re coming from.”

You weren’t sure what you were asking him when you spoke, “you do?”

“Yeah,” he said, putting the paper cup of ice cream – that was as empty as your mind when Jungkook kept on holding your hand even though, now that you were in his room, there was no reason for it – on his desk, and then leaning against it to look at you. “It’s a nice campus tale, me constantly having girls over. But the only times I did sleep with someone, I didn’t do it in a place I lived. Nothing against that, I’m just a private person in that way, I guess.”

“Okay,” you nodded your head once and turned away from him, choosing to watch the starved pigeons, which crept around his backyard, through the window. “That sure makes your reputation better.”

Jungkook snickered, reluctantly letting go of your hand – but only because you were unconsciously pulling away from him – and attempting to explain, “I don’t mean to say I have sex outside—”

“No, I-I…” you cut him off – your flustered state intrigued him further – as you walked over to the dresser that he’d mentioned before. “I get what you mean. It’s an interesting version of “don’t shit where you eat”, but—”

He laughed, the sound taking you by surprise and cutting you off.

“I didn’t think of it that way,” he said, his eyes glistening with humor. “But the saying fits, I guess.”

He plopped down on his bed as he said this and the conversation about how many people he’d slept with had run out – which was good, since you hadn’t braced yourself for a discussion about your experiences in this particular area.

Instead, you took a minute to take the rest of his room in; it had changed so little since the last time you’d seen it. But it was the picture – that was right there where he said it was – that really took you back to the time when you spent nearly every afternoon in this room.

Jungkook smiled as he watched you reminisce, but not because he liked to see the way your features softened as you admired the picture from your childhood, but because you fit in this room far better than he did.

“Are you here a lot?” you asked as if having read his mind.

“How do you mean?”

“Well, you told me you moved out a while ago…” you said, “and the room looks just as I remember it, so I just—”

“Oh. No, I’m—I’m not here a lot,” he admitted. “But I do come when I visit my parents.”

“Which is once a year?”

He acknowledged the jab by pursing his lips and retorting, “a lot more than that now that I have you with me.”

You hummed in response but your mind was already elsewhere as you pointed at the ceremoniously locked nightstand in the corner next to his bed, “what’s this?”

It looked so eccentric and out-of-place – not the stand itself, but the chain that ran along both sides of it, a trusty lock in the middle – that you couldn’t help but feel curious.

Jungkook, however, leaped on all fours and crawled over his bed to guard the nightstand with his hands – as if you were Cyclops and were about to burn through the stand with a laser beam from your eyes – a defensive look on his face.

“It’s nothing,” he said even though this was obviously the most interesting piece of furniture in his whole room, “just a decoration.”

“With chains—?” you tried to ask but Jungkook jumped back to his previous position and patted the spot on the bed next to himself.

“Come on,” he said. “Sit. Do you remember the last time you were here?”

He knew this was the only way to change the topic – and the defeated look on your face confirmed his expectations – but, when you remained standing across the room, he patted the bed again, more eagerly this time.

“We celebrated our graduation from middle school with the other kids,” he said because you didn’t show any other sign to let him know whether you remembered or not. Jungkook could feel that you did, but, regardless, he still continued, “we played Truth or Dare. Remember?”

It was ridiculous he even had to ask that. Some days – and even more frequently now that you were talking again – your middle school graduation was all you could think about, even all of these years later.

“Barely,” you replied but you both knew it was a lie. “It was a long time ago, lots have happened since—”

“Someone dared you to kiss me,” he said with an innocent expression on his face – because he was just refreshing your memory – but it was quickly replaced by an amused grin when your eyes widened in surprise – not because you were shocked he’d said it, but because saying it aloud conjured up a much clearer image of that day; probably because now you knew that the memory of that day was as fresh in his mind as it was in yours.

“Sure,” you said, laughing weakly to hide how warm your hands, your face, and your whole body was. “That was a thing that, uh… happened.”

“So,” Jungkook was grinning but it was only an attempt to conceal his own anxiety – if he stopped grinning, he was going to have to handle the rapid beating of his heart inside of his chest, and he wasn’t quite sure how to do that just yet. “Truth or dare?”

The question sobered you up from the intoxicating memory and you narrowed your eyes at him.

“We’re not fourteen and in middle school anymore,” you said. “What are you doing?”

“Come on,” he urged you again, “truth or dare?”

You knew better than to insist he dropped this – there were barely any people more demanding and frustrating than him; you couldn’t even name one – so you didn’t waste your breath trying.

Groaning because you knew he wouldn’t be pleased with your answer – just like you weren’t pleased with him even suggesting this game – you said, “truth.”

Jungkook smiled knowingly because – just like you’d predicted – he was absolutely expecting this and had, therefore, prepared accordingly.

“Who was your first kiss?” he asked without wasting a second.

God, this was going to be a long night, you started to realize. Now you weren’t sure if the ice cream was even worth it – maybe you should have left after dinner.

Meeting his expectant gaze, you tried your hardest to convey all of your hatred for this game through your eyes – but Jungkook wasn’t watching them, he was watching your lips as he waited for your answer – and then you finally said, “you.”

You were almost expecting triumphant fanfares to go off somewhere outside of his house but, instead of that, Jungkook’s eyebrows shot up to his hairline, indicating that your answer had surprised him – even though it really shouldn’t have; you may not have been his first kiss, but you had never even wanted to kiss anyone who wasn’t him.

He was obviously going to inquire about this further – but what was there to ask, honestly? – but you were categorically not going to let him.

“Truth or dare?” you fired.

Jungkook closed his mouth, decided – begrudgingly – that this was a fair play, and then, true to himself, replied, “dare.”

“Show me your mysterious nightstand.”

He looked disappointed and more than ready to refuse – good, now he knew how you felt – but got up from the bed nevertheless.

He walked over to his desk first and got a singular key out from under the fake-bottom of the top drawer – courtesy of his Death Note phase – before slowly sliding it into the lock on the nightstand across the room. Turning it until you both heard a pleasant click, Jungkook took the chains off and huffed as he looked at you before doing anything else.

You weren’t sure what you were expecting to see inside so you couldn’t brace yourself for anything but, as Jungkook opened the door of the nightstand, you realized there was no possible way for you to prepare for this anyway.

There were piles of pictures inside – polaroids, of you and him at the lakehouse your families used to rent out every summer – old cut-outs from the school newspaper, showing you, as the president of the Student Council, and the principal of the school. There were the old dog tags you two had gotten together at a fair one spring – because he kept accidentally ripping every friendship bracelet you two ever had – and there were the remote-controlled cars that you’d gotten him for his tenth birthday – you’d been saving up for them that whole year.

Scanning the contents of the nightstand – while Jungkook watched you, biting his lip – you noticed that he had a copy of almost every single movie you’d ever shown him – the DVD of The Sixth Sense, of course, resting at the very front – and, more than that, he had post-it notes glued to all of them with notes ranging from as obscure as, “She said it’s good” to direct quotes from you, “She said I would like it because it’s violent enough to keep me at the edge of my seat but it also has meaning. She smiled a lot when she told me about it.”

And then, as if your heart wasn’t already beating fast enough, you saw the popsicle sticks on the very bottom of the nightstand. Most of them were just scattered there, long forgotten, but some were glued together in what was supposed to be the base of the Trojan horse you two had never gotten to build.

You pulled back, feeling like every time you inhaled, a new memory returned to you, each heavier than the one before. When you finally removed your eyes from the mementos of the past and looked at him, your chest was so full, it was weighing you down.

“You—” you started but the words got lost on their way out of your throat. You tried again, “you kept all of this—”

“Of course,” he said, closing the nightstand now that you weren’t looking at it anymore – he didn’t bother with the chain – and then returning to his previous spot on the bed. “I couldn’t bring it all with me when I left the house because I didn’t know where I was going to go. And I couldn’t leave it all hanging around my room because… well, because I didn’t want my parents to turn the room into a home gym and throw everything out.”

“B-but why—”

“Because it’s important to me,” he replied, knowing what you were going to say, “because these are the things that you and I did together. It’s us. You and me. I kept everything that reminded me of you.”

His words soothed the old wounds but it opened up new ones, too, because, in the seven years that you didn’t have any contact with him, you’d done everything you could to erase him from your life completely – throwing anything that reminded you of him out, until your room and your whole house was void of any connection to him – while he did the complete opposite and attempted to preserve as much of your past friendship as it was possible.

“My turn,” Jungkook said, his voice shakier than it’d been before. “Truth or dare?”

You didn’t want to play anymore. You felt like you physically couldn’t play anymore.

“Jungkook—”

“Truth or dare?” he repeated, more persistent this time.

Sighing because this was hopeless, you replied, “truth.”

He shook his head. “You can’t pick truth twice in a row.”

You should have seen it coming and yet you still felt a pang of annoyance that completely broke you out of the blissful state the contents of the nightstand had put you in before.

“Yes, I can,” you protested. “You just watched me do it.”

He didn’t give in. “That’s against the rules.”

“There are no rules in this game.”

“Yes, there are.”

You rolled your eyes. “Who made them?”

“Me,” Jungkook said, crossing his legs to find a more comfortable position. “My house, my rules. You can’t pick truth twice in a row.”

“Fine, you dick,” you replied – he almost smiled at the name – and settled, “dare, then.”

It was almost funny, really, how easily the words came to Jungkook as he dared you, “kiss me.”

If you’d have turned your head to the old clock on his wall by the desk, you would have noticed how the arrows had stopped – they stopped long before tonight but, in that moment only, they showed the right time. Almost as if Jungkook wasn’t the only one who’d been waiting to say this to you. Everything in his room had been waiting, too.

Jungkook thought you’d do it -- he thought you’d turn your head, look away. Look for an excuse to back out of this.

That’s why he didn’t kiss you but gave you an opening to do it yourself, using the game as an excuse. And, in the quiet moment that passed, he waited for your eyes to leave his, refusing the opportunity. But they never did.

You didn’t think you could tear your eyes away from his yearning gaze – just like gravity prevented you from floating off into space, the force of his eyes prevented you from pulling away. Instead, they pulled you in.

And so you kissed him again, seven years later.

It was just a touch first – you barely registered the feeling of his lips against yours – but, before a chance to pull away even presented itself, the touch melted, locking your lips together.

He tasted like the strawberry mint gum he kept in his car.

He tasted like the flavor of the ice cream he’d picked today.

And, although you’d refused to try it when he offered outside of the ice cream shop, you couldn’t deny it when you were kissing him – strawberry and mint went so incredibly well together.

He tasted like the best friend you’d day-dreamed of kissing before you went to sleep at night.

He tasted like everything you’d ever wanted.

And, belatedly, the triumphant fanfares did go off somewhere in the distance – although it could have just been the sound of your hearts, calling out to each other through your chests – but the only sound you could hear clearly was the sound of his mouth moving against yours as he deepened the kiss, standing up on his knees on the bed and gently pushing you forwards until you landed on your back and he was leaning on his elbows on either side of you.

There were many things you knew about Jungkook – your knowledge coming from all of the days you’d spend together as children – but there were also several things that you didn’t know.

For one thing, you didn’t know what his kisses felt like when there was no one watching.

And now you did as his tongue tenderly brushed against yours, growing more impatient by the second, until you had to hold onto his chest with one hand and wrap the other one around his neck to prevent yourself from completely melting under him.

Furthermore, you didn’t know how long he’s waited for this.

And now you did as his warm body pressed against yours, freezing cold and almost screaming in the parts where he couldn’t physically touch you.

Kissing him felt relieving because you’d waited for this, too, and uselessly tried to convince yourself that you didn’t need his arms around you as much as you did.

It felt freeing because now you could finally admit to yourself how much you’d wanted to kiss him and have him catch his breath against your neck before bringing his lips back to yours again.

But it also felt dangerous because you couldn’t stop – you didn’t want to stop – and, not being in control of your surroundings and, most importantly, of yourself, was something that you knew would have dire consequences. You needed to prepare for this beforehand, consider every possible outcome and—

But then Jungkook pushed one of his thighs between your legs, kissing you harder—deeper—and you no longer cared about being in control of the situation.

Sighing into the kiss – until he nearly passed out because he’d imagined this before and, for half a moment, he was afraid this was all happening in his head again – you abandoned all of your inhibitions and held onto him tighter, kissing him back with matching intensity.

And that moment – the one moment when you gave in to him completely – was precisely when someone knocked on his door.

However, even though you had both heard it, neither of you reacted to it, your mouths not pausing for a moment and his fingers never leaving the spot under your shirt – right above your waist – where they’d come to rest.

A moment later, you thought you’d only imagined the knock – the sound was already so far away in the distance, it didn’t even feel like you’d really heard it.

In his case, precisely because this – kissing on his bed in his childhood room – was actually real and not just a figment of his imagination, Jungkook simply assumed that everything else had to be happening in some other world where he wasn’t kissing you. In a world that didn’t exist. In a world that didn’t matter.

And so, naturally, he didn’t pay attention to any foreign sounds, focusing on the feeling of your skin, your lips, your touch, you, instead.

But then the knock came again. Shameless, truly, because it had to be obvious what was happening inside; it was impossible not to hear someone knock on the door of a room that was as empty as Jungkook’s bedroom.

This time, you both paused. But Jungkook – who hadn’t lived with his parents in a long time and, therefore, couldn’t remember their habits – was curious if, perhaps, the knocking would go away if unanswered, and so he went back to kissing you a second later.

Much to his—and yours—irritation, however, it didn’t seem like the knocking was going to stop. If anything, it started to get more intense and your hand – the one that pulled him closer to you by his shirt – ended up having to push him away slightly.

“Jungkook?” his mother’s uncertain voice reached your ears, but when you saw his face when he pulled away from you, you felt like you may as well have imagined that sound, too, because the sight of his puffy lips and wide, blown-out pupils made you lean forward to connect your lips again, if only for just a moment.

Jungkook was convinced you hadn’t yet grasped the effect you had on him; he couldn’t just stop kissing you out of the blue like that. And so he leaned back in, pressing his lips to yours until he felt you kiss him back. And then you broke the spell by turning your face towards the door as you tried to speak.

“It’s your mom,” you said, completely out of breath. “You should open it.”

Growling with frustration, he pushed himself off of you and climbed off the bed, not giving you a second to get up and make your activities less obvious before he was throwing the door open a lot more aggressively than he’d intended.

“Oh, I wasn’t sure if you two were back yet,” his mother said, seemingly unfazed by her son’s obvious frustration. “I just got the pie out of the oven, so the dessert is ready. Your dad and I were waiting downstairs, are you two—”

“We got ice cream,” he reminded his mother in a surprisingly gentle tone – even if his body remained stoic – and then glanced over his shoulder at you. “Unless you’d like to grab a slice?”

“Uh, I—thank you,” you said, standing up from the bed and desperately attempting to fix your hair while still remaining polite, “but I still feel full from the ice cream. A-and your dinner was wonderful, too, of course.”

“Oh, it was nothing,” his mother smiled at you and then gave her son a nod. “If you feel like getting tea with us, we’ll be in the kitchen, okay? Sorry I barged in on you like that, you didn’t tell me when you came back home, so I didn’t—”

“Yeah, sorry,” Jungkook said, still in a hurry. “We ran into dad, though. He knew we were back.”

“He did?” this seemed to surprise her. “Huh. He didn’t tell me.”

Huh, indeed. Maybe his father had his own ways of making sure Jungkook kept the door of his bedroom open.

“Well, no matter,” his mother added. “I’ll leave now. Sorry again!”

She smiled at you once more before she walked back to the staircase. You couldn’t tell if her eyes had been glittering because of the few glasses of wine that she’d had with dinner, or because she was able to tell what had been going on in this room before she came in.

Or maybe she was just happy that you were both home, safe and sound, and hanging out in his room – just like back in the day.

“Well,” Jungkook said after closing the door of his room. He wasn’t trying to conceal his disappointment, “that was my mom and her perfect timing.”

You chuckled. “Ah, she could have come in later. That would have been worse.”

“Yeah?” he liked to hear that you’d been imagining what could have happened later, as he walked back to you. “What do you think we’d have been doing?”

“Anything,” you replied, ignoring the fratboy in him but allowing his arms to comfortably wrap themselves around your waist. You replied to his smile with one of your own but did not dare to close the distance between you, only choosing to carefully rest your hands on his shoulders. “Do you know what time it is?”

Jungkook groaned, knowing that you must have understood his mother’s arrival as a sign that it was time for you to go home. “No, don’t start with the time!”

“What?” you asked, surprised by his agitation. “Why not?”

“Because it’s always the time that interrupts us,” he said, knowing how pointless it was but still cursing the time, the place, and almost the entire universe. “The night always ends before I’m ready for it.”

“Are you ever ready for it?” you asked but, in all actuality, you were asking him something else.

“No,” he said, answering both of your questions. “I’m never ready to leave you. You could stay over, you know.”

He’d once called you the most ambitious person he’d ever known, and yet there was nothing you wanted more than to stay here. Stay for a night. For however many nights it was possible.

But there were too many things to think about, too many outcomes to consider. You’d barely grown used to your relationship as old-friends-who-were-fake-dating before you kissed – mostly unprovoked and largely because you wanted to, not because he’d dared you to – and opened up the door to a whole new world.

“I…” you spoke, swallowing slowly. You knew you were someone who had to learn how to maneuver the magical carpet first, before hopping on it and flying away. That was who you were. “Thank you. But I think it’d be best if I went home tonight.”

Jungkook nodded, knowing and fully expecting you to say this. He wasn’t going to object because you’d already taken a huge step—a leap, really—over your own self when you responded and kissed him, and he didn’t want to pressure you into giving in and making any similar decisions before you were ready, no matter how much he wanted you to make them. No matter how much he wanted you.

But he was still going to give you a hard time about this. Because that was who he was.

“Leaving me wanting more, yeah?” he teased.

“Not leaving you,” you said. “Just leaving.”

He loved the way this sounded like a promise – and he would keep replaying your words in his head until the next time he saw you – but he didn’t show it, taking you by the hand instead.

“Let me take you home then,” he said and then threatened, “you should know before we go, though – I am fully determined to make you feel bad for abandoning me when I needed you the most.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t expect anything else from you,” you replied, making him smile in appreciation before leaning in to press a quick—almost chaste—kiss to your cheek.

He pulled away to open the door of his room and then walked outside, taking small steps and deep sighs, his theatrics always very sharp.

“Off I go,” Jungkook began, “starting my journey of loneliness—”

“Is that from a song?” you asked, interrupting his improvised monologue as you followed after him.

“It’s from my life,” he replied shortly. You tried to suppress your laughter and he continued, more dramatic now that he’d noticed he was entertaining you, “off I go, into the dark cavern of solitude. All by myself, all over again...”

Each one of your involuntary giggles only encouraged him, so Jungkook kept this up all the way to your dorm and then he found a way to keep going over text messages, spamming you with his Shakespearean delusions until you threatened to block his number if he didn’t stop.

And then, after testing you for another half an hour, he finally did stop and went to sleep – alone, but with the memory of you that was so strong, it was like you were there with him.

keep reading | masterlist

#bts reactions #bts college au #jeon jungkook #jungkook smut #bts smut #jungkook #bts fanfiction #fanfiction #bts imagines #bts x reader #college au #jungkook x reader #bts fanfic #jungkook fanfiction #jungkook college au #jungkook fanfic

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wenellyb · 3 years ago

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hey! every now and then i've seen random posts about sebastian's comment/s on colin kap kneeling among other things, but i've never seen any source material or hard facts. do you have any posts about this or deconstruction of your own? i'd be very interested, ty!

Hey yourself😉!

So I've found the screenshot of the post (at the bottom) and just so you know he also posted an apolology but that one I couldn't find a screenshot of.

There are plenty of posts talking about this but I think most of them are old so it would take some time for me to find them.

If you want my opinion. The whole thing was f*cked up and I remember being extremely surprised and unfollowing him after that post.

And he did apologize, which is good and I do think he understands that that post was not great, but it wasn't my main issue.

When the whole story with Kaepernick happened it was a real eye opener and exposed a lot of racists even among celebrities. I'm looking at you Christopher Meloni. But not only him.

So Colin Kaepernick was to kneeling to protest against police violence and racism.

And a lot of people reacted like a lot of White people react when the topic of racism arise: deny everything and get defensive "How dare he protest blablabala" "He's so rich and he's saying White people are priviledged..." "How dare he say there is racism in this country". You know the usual.

But the thing is to me, the way he protested was the most respectful, and most peaceful way to protest and also so impactful. And some people had still a problem with it...I don't understand how ANYBODY could have a problem with it ... unless they were racist in one way or the other. That was the bar for me... I could not have respect ANYBODY who had a problem with him kneeling, because their message was clear “just sh*t up and play football”.

To me, anybody who had a problem with Colin Kaepernick taking a knee... was automatically problematic and the worst.

For other forms of protests there can always be arguments against it, lousy arguments, but arguements nevertheless: "They're blocking the streets" "There was violence during the protest",... etc... But what is your argument with having a man kneel during the National Anthem, to call out something as serious as police brutality.

To me it was clear that they just wanted Black Americans to shut up, and stay in their lane. "Sports have nothing to do with politics blablabla"

And unfortunately history proved Colin Kaepernick right, and I don't think anybody could voice bad opinions about him today, but at the time, a lot of people were criticizing him, calling him names, insulting him, and even some celebrities were talking about how disrespectful he was.

They cared more about the way he was voicing his protest, than the fact that racism was a real issue.

And because of the protests last year, I think a lot of people tend to forget about that time, but Kaepernick faced A LOT of backlash, A LOT and for what....??? Absolutely no justification. With the way some people reacted you would have thought he burned the American flag on a daily basis, or used it as toilet paper.

So having that in mind, it was really disheartening to see an actor you respect take part in that...

And just to be clear, this is my personal opinion, but I don't think Sebastian had any bad intention with that post (not like other celebrities who were outright criticizing Kaepernick, for some reason I only remember Chris Meloni lol). But the timing, and the content, even as a joke, even as a promotion tool for his movie was extremely bad. You also have to understand the context, and how there were a lot of people rooting against Kap.

Worst case scenerio Seb’s post was racist and best case scenario it was tone deaf.

I can only assume Sebastian watches the news in the US, so he must have known what the caption "take a knee" meant and still decided to post it... So maybe he wasn't ill-intentioned, but to him the topic was light enough that he could post it on his social media...

My main problem isn't even with Seb's post, it was a weird way to promote his movie, or a joke I don’t know. Artists do problematic stuff all the time, and it's up to the fans who support them to decide if they keep doing supporting him or not.

My main problem was and still is the reaction of the fandom, where White Seb stans think they know and understand racism better than anyone else. And honestly this is not me saying that Seb is racist, this is me saying that we should be allowed to voiced our opinions without being silenced or accused of trying to villainize him or cancel him blablabla .

But the Seb stans don't understand that and prefer to turn a blind eye.

I make difference between stans and fans. The Seb fans are the ones who are willing to listen, understand why some people might be offended and admit that their fav f*cked up. The stans are the annoying ones who yould rather keep their head in the sand.

And nobody is even asking to stop supporting Seb... If I cancel an actor, I will stop consuming his content, supporting him, paying to see his movies etc... But I'm not forcing anybody else to do it... But I would like to be free to voice my dislikes especially if that actor was being problematic... without the stans complaining about how "I don't know their fave"

I haven't cancelled Seb btw, I just don't feel like finding him excuses and glossing over the words and if I think that something he did was racist, I will say that it was racist, not "problematic" or "tactless" or "clumsy"...

I think that a lot of people are confused about what racism is, and think it is only White Supremacists who want to harm all non White people.

But it's not only that and in my opinion, there are many layers to racism. If you have "nothing against Blacl people" but there is a part of you that believes you or White people are better than Black people, well you are racist... If not hiw would you describe it? I have already told this story, but I have a friend who swore she wasn't racist and we even had a big debate about racism, and a few weeks later, her boyfriend told me that during a family dinner, she had talked about a common Black friend of theirs saying "She is pretty for a Black girl"... But if you ask my friend, she will say she isn't racist.

If you try to silence people calling out racism, you are contributing to it instead of fighting it.

Another example, I received a lot of "problematic" comments at work from coworkers on my hair, my origins etc, but when I talked about it to my friends and said those comments were racists.. they said that I was "overeacting" that those comments were harmless or just my colleagues being "ignorant". But one time, I was done with it and I wrote to HR about it losting all the comments I had received and the HR director called me and told me that those comments were racist full stop, he didn't try to minimize it or act like I was exagerrating.

And that's how I see the reactions of Seb stans whenever something from him re-sufaces, like my friends who just act like it is nothing.

Just so you know you are not helping when you do that.

They act as if we're suppoosed to accept that because "it's not that big of a deal". Who told you that? How do you determine what is a big deal or not? Especially when you have never dealt with racism?

Fandom behaves as if people who were hurt or offended by that post were overracting. "It was a joke" "It was a long time ago" "He would never do somthing racist"

How hard is it to say " I can see that my fave did something problematic, or that what he did was racist, and I would still like to support him but I understand that people were hirt"??? How hard is it to continue to stan your fave WITHOUT trying to silence people who call out the behavior.

And also the way they refuse to use the words is annoying... it's always "I'm sorry if anybody was offended", never "What I did/wrote was racist and I know better now". If no one wants to admit it when they do racist stuff... nobody will never get anywhere... Like my friend who is convinced that she isn't racist but goes around thinking that White Women are more beautiful than Black Women, and even says it when surrounded by her family.

And people act like the people who were hurt have no reason to be hurt because he apologized, but I hope those people realize that it doesn’t work that way. An apology is great of course, but it doesn’t take out the hurt, or the feeling that if he was comfortable enough sharing this on social media, what is he comfortable doing in the safety of his close circle?, or remove the idea that maybe an actor you adored, and respected doesn’t view Black people struggles as a serious matter.

I personally don't hate Seb, far from it. And the reason why I have so many posts about him, calling him out or not, is that he is one of the very few White actors I'm interested in. I don't know him personally, but I enjoy his interviews with Anthony and enjoy his movies. But I'm not about to act like he is perfect like some of his stan do and also I have absolutely no issue with people who have "cancelled" him because of his past behavior, because I understand them and it's their choice, it's what works best for them... I don't want to force them to root for someone who maybe wouldn't root for us.

Last point, that I won't elaborate because I have already written way to much. There's a difference between people actively trying to be racist, and people who are racist and maybe don't realize it, or people who have prejudice but are working on it...

I hate it when White people act like the worst thing in the world is being accused of racism when the actual worst thing in the world is being racist. Because it shifts the conversation from... "Oh how can I improve myself and stop this racist thing I'm doing, or how can I work on this prejudice I have?" to "How dare you call me racist!!! I would never" all the while they continue doing the racist thing they do.

TL:DR: His Instagram post was f*cked up, and he apologized. And it's up to each person to decide if they still want to support him or not, but it would be great if thise who still support him stopped pretending that those whose don't are overreacting or had no reason of being offended.

#sebastian stan #asks #anti christopher meloni #I wrote too much ... I'll finish later lol #long post #I need to stop making long posts #at some point #I just have to stop wrtining #Also a lot of people think that I hate Seb because I call him out a lot.... But he's actually one of the few White actors I consider....#All of the other ones mean literally nothing to me #.... They don't even exist outside of the movies they play in

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sometipsygnostalgic · 3 years ago

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What are your thoughts on Star V.S The Forces Of Evil?

I used to follow this show back when it was airing. I had a friend who was absolutely obsessed with StarCo.

Said friend just became super depressed at the finale and stopped talking to us because of it.

Everyone knows the finale of this show is a bit of a dumpster fire. However, the most popular vloggers - such as Blue Order - say that ships like TomStar were "clearly being built up to". This is wrong. The show was clearly baiting StarCo the whole time. It would have impressed me if it actually subverted StarCo but alas we need our series-long-slow-burn-to-finale-kiss :/

i guess they didnt actually kiss in the finale they kissed before then on top of some pigs, which is... better? but

imagine an au where there were a couple for like an entire season or two and we got to see them be a pair ala finn x flame princess, which imo is still one of the best teen relationships ever portrayed on television, realistically awkward and honest and flawed.

i think it was starco which cemented my idea that series finale pairings are bland hetero bullshit. though harry potter movie 8 certainly helped.

I think the point where the fatigue REALLY hit is when they were acting like Tom and Star would get together, then there was Marco and Kelly, and suddenly Marco and Kelly brOKE UP OFFSCREEN and Kelly was written out of the show entirely during the Cleave. Stuck in her own universe. Holy shit. Tom was as well, if I recall? I can't remember where he ended up.

anyway enough about shipping, time for the actual plot.

the first season is a bit agonizing. it has its fun moments but it's mid to low tier. it's commonly agreed that the show peaks at the Toffee storyline, and I totally agree here, there's enough going on emotionally - especially with poor Moon, and when Marco punches Toffee - while still being small scale enough to feel personal. i am also SUPER crazy for the use of dark magic in these early seasons, like the Whispering Spell, or the curse that Eclipsa taught Moon. It was nice that you have these magical girls but not all their magic is light, some of it is very grim.

i found Eclipsa's storyline mostly interesting, but largely wasted potential. I didn't feel like Eclipsa becoming queen was a natural conclusion, since she doesn't WANT to be queen. She wants to run away with her monster husband! To make a comparison, in Adventure Time, an AU in the comics has Marceline become a Queen alongside Bubblegum, but the show itself heavily implies Bubblegum eventually steps down to live her best life with Marceline, and I think the latter is far more fitting. Eclipsa is even closer to Marceline in this regard! I still think Star was a more fitting Queen, even if Eclipsa was the rightful heir, and I was sure season 4 was building to her just giving the throne to Star (before it was eventually destroyed... or not? i don't know).

The whole stuff with Mina in the final season... the thing is, the story wanted us to be invested in the Monsters vs Mewmans war, but spent absolutely no time with any relatable/likable monsters. It just assumed we would automatically be invested in the Right Thing, because Star is, but Star is just an aristocratic ally. She's great and all, and I think the arc she goes through is genuinely good as a maturity storyline, but Star agonizing over all the monsters being discriminated or leaving, it was not fun. The Mewmans themselves were so annoying and agonizingly narrowminded anyway, it’s not like this was a conflict we cared about.

What I found somewhat ballsy, politically interesting even, was the episode with Moon and the Mewmans who had either been displaced after Eclipsa gave the monsters back their homes, or who left just because they felt uncomfortable with monsters being around. The episode makes it very clear that the Mewmans are largely bigoted assholes, but they're also people, and some of the reparations under Eclipsa actually hurt them. Like a family whose home they had for generations got returned. It's not the fault of the Monsters, it's the fault of Solaris and the kingdom leadership for invading the monster homes and putting Mewmans into it, rather than working on solving the problems within her own kingdom.

As a result, even though Moon has not made any political statements against Eclipsa, she finds herself surrounded by a bubble of displaced or agitated Mewmans who do not want to integrate with monsters, and as the former Queen, she feels it is her responsibility to look out for these idiots. But what makes her different from Star is that Moon herself has a hatred of monsters, especially because of what Toffee did to her family ( yet it turns out Toffee only existed BECAUSE of her family). So Moon hasn't decided what she thinks is right, and has a pseudo nation forming around her, while Star has already set her mind on doing the right thing but is losing a lot of allies over it. This episode made the world feel more alive to me!

Unfortunately the way this arc was concluded was aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa. Namely, whatever the fuck Moon did with bringing the Solaris soldiers to life (WHY??? WHY WOULD SHE EVER DO THAT? SHE WOULD NEVER RISK STAR GETTING KILLED), versus the whole "destruction of magic" (WHAT), and finally the Cleave????????????

Because fusing the two worlds together is clearly the best solution, anyway don't mind that we literally destroyed all magic for some reason, only the magical beings you dont care about died or got debiliated (which makes no sense but whatever).

Overall a decent show mired by romance nonsense and by a misguided attempt at politics for two groups that nobody gives a shit about.

#star vs the forces of evil

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hewhofightsbythesword · 4 years ago

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precious cargo: part two - thomas shelby x Hispanic reader

“Family meeting. Now.” Thomas Shelby called out as he entered the Garrison’s snug.

At the sound of this voice, Aunt Polly could tell her nephew was once again up to no good. But then again when was he not? “Thomas Shelby has had an idea once again. Watch out.”

“Tommy, I’m not doing that again. I will not be made a fool for you. I said the last time was the last time and I meant it,” Finn stood his ground prematurely.

Ada scrunched her eyebrows in confusion. “Jesus Christ, Thomas. What the hell are you doing to our poor Finn?”

“What? No, not that,” Tommy waves off the youngest Shelby brother. “I’ve received a call all the way from America.”

“What the fuck do the Americans want from us, brother? What did you do?” Arthur accuses.

Tommy stands up and rubs his eyes in frustration. “Everyone fucking listen to me. No more interruptions. The sooner we get started, the sooner we can end this family meeting.” Silence filled in the room for a few seconds. “Now, as I was saying: I got a call from America, but it wasn’t the Americans. The Mexican mafia called, and they’re calling in a favor.” A big fucking favor, Thomas thinks to himself.

“You are just the gift that keeps on giving. First the Russians and now the Mexicans.” Polly shakes her head.

“What do we know about them? Can we even trust them?” Arthur asks.

Thomas ignores his aunt. “The Mexican mafia is ruled by the y/l/n family. They go by la familia. Recently, they started several expansions into America. The Don’s people called me some nights ago about his daughter, y/n.”

“y/n y/l/n. I know her,” Michael says.

Tommy doesn’t bother to look at his cousin, slightly annoyed he knew more than he did. “And what is it that our Michael knows that we don’t, eh?” Thomas keeps a stoic stare at the wall in front of him.

“We met during one of my business trips to New York. She recognized our name, said her family owned some businesses near the ones we do. We never kept in touch, but I’ve heard stories about her.”

“What kind of stories?” Ada asked, half afraid for the answer. Just like everyone else in the room, she knew how much her big brother could never resist a challenge that guaranteed some danger. Add in a pretty face and Thomas was lost.

“I hear she’s taking over after Don, not the eldest brother, Santiago.” Arthur feeling this Santiago’s pain from an ocean away stood to pour himself a drink in hopes to mask his suffering.

“And you know what, Tommy?” Michael continued to press him, “She reminded me of you.”

“That’s enough.” Polly places a hand on her son’s shoulder. “Go on, Thomas.”

“She had a run in with some Italians in New York, more specifically Enzo Changretta.” The atmosphere in the room stiffens. “She alone has received the black hand and needs protection.”

“Why have these meetings if you already very clearly have made up your mind?” Polly spits.

“So I can say to all of you that y/n y/l/n is on her way as we speak.” Sounds of disapproval rang out through the snug.

“Fuck, Tommy. This isn’t some backstreet gang. It's the Changretta's. Look around you. John is not here. Michael almost died. You almost died. What can the Mexicans do for us that we can’t already do for ourselves?” The voice of reason called out.

“I have me reasons.” He takes a heavy drag from his cigarette.

“And of course you won’t share what any of them are with any of us.” Ada crosses her arms against her chest.

“La familia are not the kind of people we want to owe favors to, Polly,” he points to her, “It’s better if they owe us. If they owe us, we control the narrative and we have ourselves a new ally. As we all know, allies come in short supply these days.”

“And?” Polly eggs on.

“And they’re fucking rich.” Michael reveals before Tommy can.

“And they’re fucking rich,” Tommy echos, “The y/l/n’s own the majority of their country’s petroleum businesses. They help supply America, except the Italians are now threatened.”

“Who the hell made it your job to play the middleman?”

“It is not my job. It is our investment.” Thomas, having enough of his family’s obvious disapproval, stands up to leave for the night. “y/n y/l/n is coming and we will all protect our investment.”

Over the next few days, all Tommy could think about was you and about your family. He wondered how you would look, how you would talk. Were you any different from the few Americans he has met? Thomas does not recall a time he has met someone from Mexico. You were obviously smart; smart enough to move large amounts of petroleum from your home country to America. His sources told him it was all your doing, all your strategy. He couldn’t help but to think if perhaps Michael was right. Was there some truth to his teasing? She reminded me of you, he remembers.

And of course Thomas Shelby wouldn’t be Thomas Shelby if he didn’t entertain the idea of the y/l/n’s making up a story to take his ever-growing empire. The chances were low, sure, but not zero.

Thankfully Tommy no longer had to torture his mind with any more questions and hypothetical situations about his soon-to-be visitor. Today was the day y/n arrived in Birmingham. His men would be there for your arrival so that they could escort you to Arrow House. Tommy figured only the best for his best investment.

Upon your arrival, the first thing Tommy Shelby noticed about you was your demeanor. You walked in his home with your head high and squared back shoulders. There was not a single trace of worry or fear coming from your face, at least none Tommy could clock. Anyone who could see you would not know there was a mafia hit on your head. But then again, they would also not know you were soon to head your own mafia. When he first heard of you, he didn’t know you were rich. When he did know, he didn’t know exactly by how much. Standing before him, all Tommy knew was y/n y/l/n was rich by a fuck ton. That was just the immediate aura you gave off.

Maids automatically surrounded you, taking your luggage and coat. Even through the crowd surrounding you, your eyes could be found fixating one thing only. Blue. So much fucking blue, you think to yourself. Your eyes never left who you could only assume was Thomas Shelby. And you knew you would not get far in this unfamiliar country with only assumptions. As soon as the crowd cleared up, you decided to take initiative.

“Hello, you must be Thomas Shelby. I’m y/n y/l/n.” He shakes your outreached hand.

“Please, call me Tommy.” His deep voice rings out, demanding to be heard as always.

“Tommy,” you say, trying out the name on your tongue. Tommy kept his eyes on you and no other words were exchanged, a comfortable silence falling upon the two strangers. “Tommy?”

“Yes?” He manages to croak out.

“Do you think I could have my hand back?” Tommy still enveloped his rather large hand in your small one.

Quickly, he drops your hand in embarrassment as if he had just been burned. Tommy couldn’t help but notice the warmth of your palm leaving him rather fast. He has met many rich people. Too many, his Aunt polly would say. But none like him. None like you.

“Why don’t we go to my office and have a drink. We can talk there.”

Tommy wasn’t one to show any facial expressions, you soon realize, but it was all in his words. It was in that moment you knew Tommy Shelby didn’t like to ask for things, even as simple as a drink. He demanded. In your world full of coke, guns, and sicarios, you were used to being the one to make the demands. Given almost any other circumstance, you would have taken action against it, but not now. Not to Tommy. All your feet could do was follow him.

“Tell me everything leading to the black hand.” He demands again as he hands you a glass of whiskey. “What do the Italians want with you other than have you dead?”

“They want what’s mine,” you simply say as you hand him the black hand letter.

“The petroleum businesses?” He asks. His eyes skim over Enzo’s signature.

“That’s not all. We also deal guns in large quantities to our allies. For the past year or so we’ve moved both the legal and illegal side of our businesses to America. We cross state lines where the Italians reside. At first, we were warned. Didn’t listen. They tried to rough up a few of my men. Didn’t work. None of it will work,” you say that last part a little more to yourself than Tommy.

There was something eerie about receiving the black hand. To you, it was all bad vibes. It was the malo ojo. It carried evil energy and a haunting presence. This was something Tommy knew too. Although he would have different opinions on what it carried, it was all the same feeling in the end: eery.

“Are you armed?” He goes to reach for one of his cabinets behind his desk.

“No, I have men for that. The sicarios do the killing.” He slides the gun across the desk. All you could do was stare at the weapon and so could Tommy. His eyes would switch to the gun, then to you, then back to the untouched gun. “We’re living in modern times, Tommy.”

“You are free to conduct the appropriate business here as long as you have that gun and my men too.”

“I just said I have my own men. I don’t need your Peaky boys following me too. Thomas, it was never about your protection.”

Tommy’s eyebrow slightly rises, starting to feel irritated. The motive was now clear to Tommy. It was never about the Peaky Blinders protection but about the land. The y/l/n’s had the potential of being a superpower to the world because of their oil. If they really wanted to, they could knock a few Italian heads on the way. They just couldn’t do it in America. The American government was so different and so were its people.

The Yankees still believed in their government and what was right and what was wrong. And killing was wrong. The Mexicans were too gruesome, too brutal. All you and your family wanted to do was eliminate the threat, and its name was Enzo Changretta. Mexico would want the whole family, women and children alike. In Birmingham, the cops were dirty; all paid by and loyalty to Thomas Shelby. You knew the value of loyalty, thus you knew the value of Birmingham. It wasn’t a city. It was fucking empire, and in his empire killng was allowed.

“You want to draw them out and kill them on my land.”

You down your drink in one large sip, letting out a soft sigh. “Sometimes, Tommy,” so we’re back to Tommy, “killing is a kindness.”

Michael was wrong. y/n was not like Tommy Shelby. Right then and there, he decided you were an extension to himself. You were Tommy Shelby.

“You are still in clear danger.” He yells out to you as you leave his office and the gun behind.

“And I still prefer my bullets over your razor blades.”

It was never about your protection.

Tag List: @apollonshootafar

#thomas shelby #thomas shelby fanfic #thomas shelby x reader #peaky blinders #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders fanfiction #thomas shelby fanfiction #thomas shelby imagine

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avengerscompound · 4 years ago

Text

Until the End of the World - 15

Until the End of the World: A Captain America Fanfic

Masterlist PREVIOUS //

Buy me a ☕ Character Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Steve Rogers x F!Reader

Word Count: 1767

Rating: E

Warnings: pregnancy, canon typical violence, mentions of torture and human experimentation

Synopsis: Four years after Steve and Bucky got to the bottom of the HYDRA conspiracy that had led to you and your son being hunted for the first three years of his life, you, Bucky, and Steve have carved out a nice life together. Things are calm and you feel like a family unit. When Geo starts calling Bucky and Steve ‘dad’, a decision is made to try and add to your family.

Things aren’t as calm as they seem. When your pregnancy hits the papers, HYDRA rears its head once again, and Steve and Bucky need to track you down to protect the family they had created.

Chapter 15

The line between unconscious and conscious was hazy. You couldn’t quite hold on to reality but you knew you needed to wake up. There were flashes. Being bumped around in the back of a van. You remembered the smell of antiseptic and cool steel and lights burning bright in your eyes. There had been needles and people talking, sometimes not in English.

As you slowly pulled yourself back to consciousness, the only clear memory you had was being dragged out of your car kicking and screaming by men in green uniforms.

The morning hadn’t been so strange. Chaotic sure, but that was all as expected for a family of four expecting another child. You’d ridden in the back of the town car with Geo, on the way to drop him at school. It hadn’t even felt strange when the car had been diverted down that alley. It was New York, shit happening that required traffic to be diverted was hardly unusual. When the van had blocked the road and those men had piled out, it had been a shock. You’d reacted quickly, locking your doors and getting you and Geo on the floor. It didn’t help. Even with the bulletproof glass and casing on the car, they’d quickly ripped the doors off. They had zero preservation skills and were willing to take the bullets from the driver so that the people behind them could take him out.

You’d had Geo ripped from your arms and a needle shoved into your neck. That had been it.

You forced your eyes open, though everything was blurry and seemed to move in slow motion. You couldn’t quite absorb what you were seeing. The room was completely white and chrome. You were on a bed that was bare except for a thin mattress, but thankfully lying on your side. You tried very hard to focus, but the more aware you were of how bare everything was around you, the more panic started to set in.

You tried to push yourself up, but the mixture of drugs in your system and the shackles around your wrists and ankles made that impossible.

“Geo…” You had meant the sound to be a scream, but instead, it came out as a faint croak. You struggled and blinked your eyes, trying to break out of the drugged-up fog that was holding you down, but you couldn’t seem to be able to do it.

There was a series of sharp beeps and the hiss of an automatic door. You turned your head to see a tall woman with long black hair and deep green eyes stepped into the room. She seemed familiar but the drugs were stopping the connections in your mind from being made and you couldn’t seem to place her. You knew it was bad but for some reason, you couldn’t think of why.

“Ahh good,” she said, in a thick Hungarian accent. “You’re awake.”

“Where’s Geo?” You croaked.

“Don’t worry, darling,” she said, standing back as a couple of what you could only assume were doctors came and looked you over. “Your boy is safe. After your lover destroyed all our stocks of IGH we need him to start from scratch again. That little boy is the key to that.”

“No,” you choked, as everything clicked into place. This was Ophelia Sarkissian - Viper. The woman who had been running HYDRA. The one who had been ordering people to hunt you and Geo down. You had sat at her trial and given evidence to make sure she’d get put away for life. You had no idea how she could be out now. “No, you can’t.”

“You evaded us for a long time,” Viper said as she looked you over. “I applaud you. I must say that when your precious Captain America tore apart our warehouses and stripped me of my crown, it was a little bit of a setback. But he made three rather large mistakes. The first was, he made it very clear that you specifically were off the table. We weren’t allowed to hurt you. That made me believe that you were special in ways that weren’t just about the test IGH had run on you. You were special to Steve Rogers. That was confirmed while I was locked up and the tabloids started showing pictures of you together. Don’t you just love tabloids? Always invading people’s privacy and spreading all over the place for everyone to see? You’d think that would be illegal? But no… it’s encouraged even.”

She took a few steps closer to you and had a look at the chart one of the doctors handed her. “The next was, he seemed to think that HYDRA was just the palace in Madripoor and a few warehouses. That was the basis for all our IGH manufacturing and distribution, I’ll give him that, but HYDRA is so much bigger than that. He was successfully able to scrub all references to you from our files, but there was his last mistake.” She moved in close, so her face was right up in yours. “He didn’t erase me.”

“He’s going to kill you,” you rasped.

She laughed and stood up straight. “While I’ve been locked up I’ve been running things behind the scenes. Getting a place prepared for you and your little technopath. It is cut off from communications down this deep. He won’t be able to send for help. And they won’t be able to find you. But don’t worry. We have some of the friends from the experiment we ran on you. You see, now we know that when two of you breed you get something special, we thought we’d run our own little breeding program with some of the others. And won’t you believe our luck? You’ve been running your own with a super-soldier no less.” She tapped your baby belly and you started shaking your head.

“No, no, no, no no,” you groaned. “You can’t have them.”

“We already have them. You’re due any day now, correct?” She taunted. “You’ll be delivering here, and then we’ll see what happens if you mix IGH with Super-Serum.”

You shook your head, still feeling completely out of it and unable to process what was happening to you. There was a loud and painful part of you that couldn’t see any way out of this. If they had kidnapped other people and no one had noticed - if you were really cut off from any computers, then this was hopeless. They’d never find you. Yet a smaller part of you didn’t seem willing to give up hope that the men you had chosen to make a family with would ever stop looking for you.

“I want to see Geo,” you whispered.

“We’ll see. If you’re very good for us and do exactly as we say we might let you see him,” she said. “Thought we might reprogram him, much like we did with your friend the Winter Soldier. Having Geo so young and with such a useful power, he could be quite the asset for us.”

“No,” you said and jerked feebly against your bonds. “Don’t hurt him.”

“Now, now,” Viper taunted. “That’s not behaving yourself. You don’t want to get all worked up and hurt your baby, do you? Where will that leave us?”

You started crying and Viper smirked and handed the files back to the doctors. “You can unfasten her bonds and let her drugs wear off. She was always the runner, never the fighter. I think given we have her boy she’ll behave herself for us.”

She left the room and the doctors unfastened the bindings on your wrists and ankles. They left you there alone in the bright white room. As the drugs began to wear off more you sat up. Your mouth was dry and tacky and you wanted a drink. You slowly surveyed the room. It was more of a cell than a room. The wall that had the automatic door looked to be a thick one-way glass. There was a shower head, toilet, and sink on the far side of the room. You were worried about getting up yet, but you really needed a drink.

You carefully got up, leaning on the bed while you judged whether or not your legs could hold you. When you felt confident that they would, you made your way over and drank as much as you could before using the toilet and washing up. You took a moment to check how well-sealed the door was and when it wouldn’t budge at all, you made your way back to your bed. It was hopeless. After all these years they’d finally caught you and this was it. All the things you’d done to protect your son had been for nothing.

Part of you wished you’d never met Steve or Bucky, but even thinking that made your heartbreak and you’d start crying again. This wasn’t their fault and trying to pin it on them was putting the blame in the wrong place. This was Viper’s doing and no one else's. She’d hunted you and Geo. And she used Steve’s fame to finally catch you when you were at your most vulnerable.

You lay down and curled up. There were no blankets and no pillows, but you were able to doze lightly. The lights dimmed, and just as you were on the brink of a really deep sleep, the doors hissed open again.

You sat up quickly expecting the worse. Of all the people you had thought would walk through the door, your seven-year-old son was right at the bottom of the list. “Mommy? I’m scared,” he whispered.

You jumped down off the bed and rushed to him, crouching down as best you could in your heavily pregnant state and pulling him out of the doorway. “Geo? How did you get here?”

“Where are my dads?” He whispered. “I wanna go home, mommy.”

“G, I need you to listen, bud. We’re in trouble. I need to know how you got out?” You asked.

“Mommy, the machines helped me,” he said. “They always do.”

You nearly laughed at how stupid you’d been. Of course, he’d be able to get out of the cell. It was locked electronically. They must have found out that Geo was a technopath and thought that meant computers only, when in fact, if there was any sort of processing system, even if it was just to open and close doors it would do what he’d say.

“G, listen to me very carefully,” you said. “I need you to do something really important.”

// NEXT

#steve rogers #bucky barnes #steve rogers x reader #bucky barnes x reader #stucky #steve rogers x bucky barnes #stucky x reader #steve rogers x reader x bucky barnes #captain america fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #reader insert #pregnancy #until the end of the world

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delimeful · 4 years ago

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sheer atrocity (4)

warnings: captivity, mild arguing

After a brief break to eat and drink, Virgil was on the move. Again.

Considering dusk was quickly approaching and they’d been traveling or intimidating abusive dads for pretty much the entire day, Roman felt the pace they were setting was a little unreasonable.

He wasn’t the one walking it, sure, but he couldn’t help but wonder. Was this guy always so antsy, or was this a special occasion?

And while he was asking himself questions that he wouldn’t get any answers to, how long was the cast duration of this enchantment?

(More specifically, how much longer was he going to be small enough for beetles to look like dogs?

How much longer before Virgil decided what to do with him for real?)

He hadn’t seen the giant stop to recast, which meant that he’d been burning through a continuous enchantment for hours on end. Signs pointed to his magic reserves being massive. Chilling.

Roman thumped a foot against the side of the jar that rested against Virgil’s side. “Are we wandering around the woods during twilight for any particular reason, or are you just lost and too embarrassed to admit it? Too used to seeing the trees from a loftier position, perhaps?”

Virgil glanced down at him, as though just recalling he was there. Offended, Roman made a mental note to make more of his internal diatribes to external diatribes. The only thing worse than being a prisoner with an uncertain future was being an ignored prisoner with an uncertain future.

“Go back to being quiet, I forgot you were annoying for a second.”

“Absolutely not,” Roman huffed, kicking his feet against the glass repeatedly for emphasis. “The moment we see another human I’m going to scream at the top of my lungs.”

“Oh, because that worked so well for you before,” Virgil said, rolling his eyes.

Roman shifted positions, trying to ease a cramp in his leg. “Haven’t you heard? Third time’s the charm, and personally, I have no shortage of charm.”

There was a short pause, and then Virgil ground to a stop, taking a deep breath.

Instantly, Roman stiffened, eyes locked on the face above him. He’d forgotten himself, making jabs as though they weren’t enemies, as though he hadn’t been trapped, threatened, and used by this monster. It was too easy to pretend, when Virgil did things that were almost decent.

Sure enough, Virgil grabbed the top of the jar and lifted it from his pocket to be eye level. Roman shoved his arms out to keep himself stable, avoiding looking at the long drop below him.

“As useful as your bullheadedness was before, I don’t actually want you to scare the daylights out of the person I’m looking for this time.”

“Yes, well, I don’t want to be the size of a newborn chick, so it looks like we’re both dealing with struggles in life,” Roman snapped back, because he’d never known when to keep his mouth shut.

Virgil narrowed his eyes. “I could just muffle your jar, you know. I’m magic; I can do that.”

He could? Roman was sort of surprised he hadn’t done so already.

“But,” he continued with a sigh, “I think this one will probably be easier with your help. I’m not great at putting people at ease.”

“I hadn’t noticed,” Roman snorted, and then jerked as the rest of the sentence sunk in. “Wait, hang on. ‘Put people at ease’? There is no way I’m helping you with any nefarious plots!”

“It’s not nefarious!” Virgil shifted his weight, glancing around impatiently. “And it’s time sensitive. Either help me or don’t, I don’t care.”

It couldn’t be that simple, but Roman wasn’t about to pass up a chance to see something other than the interior of a pocket. “Fine, but if I see you doing something evil, I’m not going to stand idly by!” And then, petulantly. “Also, I want out of the jar.”

“As long as you actually use your brain instead of your biases to judge me,” Virgil snarked back, but obligingly pried off the lid and tipped the jar on its side. Rather than pull or tip Roman out, he held his hand to the lip of the opening and waited.

It was almost more nerve wracking to climb into a giant hand willingly, but Roman managed it. The jar was whisked away, and Roman lifted to neck level. He stared blankly.

“Going to get off anytime soon?” Virgil asked, a hint of irritation in his voice.

“What am I getting on? Your collar bones?” Roman replied incredulously. “Wouldn’t a shoulder be better?”

The hand under him shifted slightly, angling him towards the folds of the cloak where it met the hood. “The fabric has better grip here. You’ll fall off my shoulder if we’re attacked.”

Attacked by who? “Paranoid much?” Roman dallied for a moment longer, but the idea of falling really was an unappealing one, so he climbed up and managed to find a seat amongst the bunched up cloth.

As soon as he was settled, Virgil set off again, and Roman clung tightly, staring out at this strange new perspective of the forest. Weird, but definitely better than the jar.

They moved along in relative silence, Virgil surprisingly light on his feet for a giant. The sun had just begun to sink below the horizon when he finally jerked to a halt.

Roman opened his mouth to complain at the sudden stop, but Virgil’s head was tilted, as though carefully listening. After a moment, he turned to a nearby patch of shrubbery.

“Hey,” he called, voice lacking it’s usual edge. “I can hear you over there.”

There was a long pause, and Roman blinked as the shrubbery began to tremble slightly. There was actually someone in there?

“Easy,” Virgil said, lowering himself into a squat. “I’m not going to hurt you. I can help you find the way out of these woods, if you’d like.”

After a moment, a small hand pushed part of the bush aside, peering out cautiously at them. Roman’s heart twisted at the kid’s face, smudged with dirt and tear streaks. They couldn’t have been more than eight.

Virgil shifted, and Roman felt a chill go through him, remembering who, or rather what he was with. He couldn’t let the giant lure the kid into whatever scheme he was planning.

“There you go,” Virgil coaxed, offering a hand to help the kid stand up. “It must have been scary, stuck out in the woods alone. You did good to stay in one spot.”

Roman bit down on the automatic urge to call out a warning, listening to the way Virgil carefully encouraged the kid to stand up and brush the twigs from their hair. This was important. He had to consider the situation from all angles before making a move.

If Virgil really wanted to abduct a random kid in the woods, he didn’t need to convince them of anything. He’d dealt with a trained slayer as though he was a minor annoyance, a kid wasn’t exactly a challenge. So why was he going to all this trouble?

Roman thought about the soft edges of Virgil’s expression when he gave Patton his coat back. Maybe… it wasn’t a ruse?

“I’m Virgil,” the giant in question said, shaking Roman from his thoughts. “And this is Roman. We’re travelling together.”

Roman startled, not expecting to be introduced. “Uh, salutations!”

The kid stared with wide eyes. “You’re so small!” they blurted, before covering their mouth hurriedly.

Virgil cut in before Roman could correct him. “He’s a pixie. Likes to cause problems on purpose.”

Roman huffed “I do not! Don’t let him fool you, I am a delight.”

The kid giggled, and Virgil’s shoulders relaxed slightly. Roman wished he could see his expression.

From there it was second nature to keep up a stream of chatter with the kid about everything from their favorite food (honey on bread) to their stance on frogs (cute but you shouldn’t kiss them). It grew darker and darker as they walked, and after the kid had almost tripped over stray roots thrice in rapid succession, Virgil had crouched and lifted them onto his back with ease.

Before long, the kid was snoring lightly, face smushed against his hood, and there was a surprisingly comfortable silence in the air between them.

Virgil broke it first. “Thanks for not freaking out. I didn't know you had it in you.”

Roman crossed his arms, ignoring how close he’d come to freaking out. “This doesn’t mean I trust you or anything. We’re still enemies, you’re just. Not as bad as you could’ve been.”

“Yipee,” Virgil deadpanned, shrugging his shoulder under Roman slightly to jostle him. Roman jabbed his elbow in the general direction of Virgil’s neck in retaliation. “Very gracious of you.”

“I certainly won’t be as gracious the next time you pass me off as a pixie,” Roman muttered, prompting a low, half-air laugh from Virgil. He realized belatedly that he’d assumed there would be a next time, and hadn’t been corrected. He wasn’t sure if that was reassuring or not.

What was it about this giant that made Roman feel at ease to speak his mind, even in such a precarious position?

Virgil slowed as they came up on the town again, crouching to gently nudge the kid awake and set them on their own two feet again. “You’re home, kiddo.”

“Don’t go traipsing around in the forest again, y’hear?” Roman added sternly. “Not everything in those woods are as nice as us.”

The kid nodded solemnly, and then grumbled sleepily as Virgil ruffled their hair and pushed them towards the paved path into town.

Once the kid reached the town's edge, they turned around to peek over their shoulder. The two of them were already well out of sight, waiting until the kid had been safely whisked into the arms of their parents before departing.

Roman waited with bated breath, but despite their deal being over, Virgil seemed to have no intent of removing him from his newfound perch. He sunk deeper into the fabric as they continued to trek on.

For now, he could let himself enjoy this tentative peace.

#sanders sides #g/t #fantasy au #ts virgil #ts roman #ts elliott #writing #my writing #sheer atrocity #sa #sorry this is late posting hours i fell asleep again

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itsclydebitches · 3 years ago

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I adore talking about this with you, it's so cool to be able to agree, everything I've read is just excusing yen lmao.

And with "geralt would rather do and say things Yen wants to avoid pissing her off" LIKE YEAHH I guess I annoyed yen with my answers and she teleported Geralt out of the tower thing, and then threatened to do it again like??? Like he pissed her off so she has fuck all care about him, was over water thank god but like girl??? omg and her refusing to tell the wticher bros what she was planning on doing to Uma, like I get that they would be hesistent but I mean it's cause it's cruel and painful and they have that trauma around that. She just expects everyone to do what she asks when she asks no questions. (Lambert's "I'm not geralt" when he and Yen are kinda arguring, bb red flags)

I just assumed she didn't believe him cause if she did whats her excuse for behaving how she is lmao??? Like you believe he has amnesia and you still blame HIM over the person who maniplated him KAY.

And goodddd that fucking scene when Triss and Yen see Ciri in Kaer Morhen is genuinely the worst, Triss and Yen see their sis/daughter (not gonna get into how weird I find it that Triss considers Ciri her sister and Geralt is Ciris father and she still wants to fuck him, uncomfy) for the first time in forever, she's alive and well and while Triss is hugging Ciri, Yen kisses Geralt and Triss throws a glare at her. I hated that scene so damn much, it's stupid and shouldn't have been there. (aso I get emotions and all but Yen kissing Geralt is so bitchy, idk even full of gratitude and emotion I wouldn't kiss the man who just dumped me lol, especially not in front of a situation like Triss)

I'm still mad about the women, I really wanted to like them fuck meeee

YOU GOT TO THE PART. Oh thank god, anon, I've wanted to talk about this since we started these conversations lol

Okay, let's set the scene, shall we? You arrive to find that, with our playthroughs anyway, your ex has barged into your home. I say "barged in" because although we (Geralt) know that Yen's help is necessary and she'll be tagging along, the other witchers living there are given no prior warning and, according to Vesemir, Yen teleported in without so much as a "Hello." She then immediately starts ordering everyone around like her servants, failing to explain the situation beyond there being a curse that they have to help with. No, this isn't negotiable. She (still being an ex) takes your old room for herself, which just happens to be the biggest in the keep, and proceeds to toss a bed out the window. It's only later that Vesemir recalls that Triss used to use it, so prior to that everyone apparently just accepted that Yen was destroying their stuff for no understandable reason. Classic Yen. You go upstairs to find her cursing a blue streak at her failed experiment and when you try to lighten the mood, she snaps at you. If you're of the opinion that Yen's every order must be obeyed, this is when you're supposed to drop the conversation entirely, because she said to. Except, funnily enough, you'd like to know why she's up here being The Worst Guest Ever and destroying your property. She tries to justify this by saying that destroying a bed is better than how she could be dealing with her anger over Triss. Be grateful and all that. Except, it's not really about Triss, is it? The line is "You shagged my friend. For upwards of a year. I don't know what your witcher's code says on the matter, but ordinary folk would consider it obscene, base, vile." The blame is not on the woman who knowingly manipulated Geralt into having sex with her while he was vulnerable, it's on Geralt himself! He is the "obscene, base, vile" person for... daring to have amnesia? And when you point that out - "Yen... told you already. I lost my memory" - she yells that she's "lost [her] patience" and teleports you into a lake! This is, apparently, how she really wants to deal with her anger. Not by destroying beds, but by attacking you for things outside of your control. And I do consider it an attack. Yen is meant to be insanely powerful, she is leveraging her magic as a weapon here, particularly when Geralt has spent the whole game commenting on how much he hates portals. Yen knows this. Not just because he says so in her presence, but because she frequently reads his mind, something else he's expressed discomfort with. She's not just demonstrating her power (controlling) and sending him away when he makes a point she doesn't want to acknowledge (immature), she chooses the one thing she knows makes Geralt uncomfortable, perhaps even scared. Then when you've swum your way back to shore and returned to, despite all this, begin her list of chores, she makes a dry comment about how next time she just might drop you high enough for the fall to be fatal. With the next time implied to be, you know, the next time you disagree with her. The next time you dare to do anything other than agree with her every belief and jump at her every command.

The fandom interpretation of all this: "Lol Geralt getting yeeted is so funny. And their banter is just 😍"

Me:

You mentioned red flags and yeah like that ENTIRE SCENE is a crimson banner for me. I mean, by all means, love the fictional ships that are super messed up (I often do), but it astounds me how many fans honestly think this is just a cute interaction with absolutely no problems attached. Nothing to question here, folks. I've mentioned before, but last I discussed this in depth the asker wanted to know if I'd been an asshole to Yen and... that's it. That's the perspective. Any disagreement with her, any pushback, anything that's not complete, blind obedience is something she will not permit AND something most fans take as a given. If you're not doing what Yen tells you to, you're automatically the asshole, and if you're the asshole, you automatically deserve any punishment she chooses to dish out.

Comic spoilers coming up if you want to skip, but this is made abundantly clear in "Curse of Crows." Yen and Geralt are at their best in the moment below, enjoying one another's company on a nice day. Yen asks if Geralt wants to swim and he says nah, he'd rather watch her. She appears to like that idea and, indeed, swims naked while Geralt admires from the shore.

Actually cute right? I really liked this moment! They're cuddled up together and exchanging smiles. It's a rare moment of peace where I can believe that they truly care for one another, outside of passionate sex and not wanting the other dead. Finally, something beyond that incredibly low bar.

...except Yen starts flirting with a young man who shows up, invites him to travel with them, all while refusing to explain why she's interested in his company. The sudden third wheel is clearly bothering Geralt, but Yen continues to ignore his questioning. The answer she finally gives later that night?

She did it purely to mess with Geralt! It's his "just desserts" for "refusing to swim with [her]." She is "not one to be refused - I thought you needed reminding" by giving him "a flick on the nose." When I say that Yen treats Geralt like a dog I mean she literally treats him like a dog. He's a servant who must jump at her every command and if he doesn't, he'll punished for disobedience. He might not even know why he's being punished for a long stretch because Yen enjoys making him think she's a normal person capable of accepting that he doesn't feel like swimming right now - insert the Kaer Morhen scene where she wants to go have sex upstairs, but Geralt wants to catch up with the brothers he hasn't seen in an age here - only to reveal that actually she's made their formerly nice outing uncomfortable because he needs to be put in his place. All of which is followed by, "So... willing to join me now?" The message is very clear! Geralt had better get his ass in that tub unless he wants to be punished some more. Whether he wants a bath right now or not is inconsequential.

This is also the run where she scares the women Geralt was with, despite them being separated right now. Why? "I could."

Claims that Geralt is allowed to return to his companions (who he actually waves away) only for him to realize she's cast a spell to burn him with the water. Yen loves pretending she's okay with things only to punish Geralt for them later - sometimes with physical punishments. And what would have happened if the women had actually joined him again? Do witchers weather hot water better than the average courtesan? Who knows, but Yen clearly doesn't care who might get hurt.

Just like her time in Skellige and at Kaer Morhen, she refuses to explain what's going on. She just expects people to obey her, so-called loved ones included. Geralt was to get her cider, and arrive before her bath went cold, not question what they're doing on this dangerous hunt. He's a servant.

And my favorite, petty moment: transforming her awful inn food into a lavish meal without offering to do the same for either Geralt or Ciri.

"But, Clyde, that's just the comics. They're not really canon." Nah, questions of canon aside, this is 100% Yen's characterization. She's prideful. Immature. Beyond controlling. And punishes anyone who dares to tell her "No." Fans are always pointing out that she's meant to be horrible, she could have been a villain in another life, like any of that explains why I'm supposed to root for this relationship or enjoy her existence outside of being a complex character. Yen is interesting, but she's interesting in a "I can't wait to see her get her own just desserts" way. Not "Wooo now I get to watch this story ignore her behavior again to push a True Love narrative."

She punished Geralt frequently during their first meeting, she punishes him whenever they get together, and, I think, she punished him during the reunion with Ciri. Given our playthroughs, do we really think that after breaking up with her and all this fury over Triss - an anger so deep she destroyed the bed and attacked Geralt - she's just overcome with such joy that she forgets they're not together anymore and forgets the anger she's been nurturing for years? Yen doesn't forget. She's staring at Ciri during that moment, right where Triss is currently running towards them, and then after a considering look at Geralt pulls him in for that kiss. That was calculated. She did that to make a claim she no longer had. To punish them both: make Triss uncomfortable by playing at the "perfect" family reunion; make Geralt uncomfortable by kissing him when she knows he doesn't feel the same way. But of course, the popular reading is that she just loves him so much she couldn't help herself. Riiight.

It's just all SO BAD. (Including, as you say, the ickiness of having Triss lusting after Geralt and referring to Ciri as "little sis.") I love a lot of the women in Witcher - Cerys is a fave, Ciri, Saskia, Philippa, Keira, etc. - but the two I'm supposedly meant to fall in love with are just the worst lol.

Basically:

Half the fandom: TEAM TRISS 🤬

The other half: TEAM YEN🤬

Me: TEAM REGIS 😭

#witcher #mymetas #long post

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iamdunn · 3 years ago

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Miraculous Flash Forward part 2: Hei Mao

A Miraculous Fan-fic

Written By

AJ Dunn

Adrien went about his day grocery shopping and stocking his new home with personalized essentials. Something to make it more him and not as much Amelie, bless her heart fro trying. It had been nice having a mother even if it wasn’t his mother. Emelie remained in a coma in London. He had visited her everyday. It felt like he had finally healed from her loss only to have the wound ripped open again. The ache still seeped from his being as a dark shadow hung over him. Not only did he have to hide from the identity his father created for him, but also the bad publicity his father created as well.

With groceries put away, and Plagg fed, Adrien set about finally unpacking his bags. He could hear the television turn on as Plagg scrolled through channels. News reports still talking about the capture of Hawk Moth even though it’s been two years. A report came on their air and he recognied Feliz’s voice. He hung his shirt and went downstairs to see.

“I have been given full authority over the former Agreste Brand and we will be revitalizing this brand starting…” he stopped talking to the microphone at the podium to turn around. He was standing in front of the Agrest Building that Gabriel had built. Felix raised his hand as the blind covering the company name was removed and exposed the new name.

“Graham De Vanily”

“In honor of our beloved Emelie Graham De Vanily who was so terribly stolen away from us by the heinous villain Hawk Moth.” Felix’s fist clenched near his chest as he closed his eyes for a moment. Adrien was hurt hearing the words but Felix’s scheme was working. The crowd cheered. No one really knew exactly what happened to Adrien’s mother, but making her the face of this company’s new facelift, making her the victim in all of it, took the public's eye off of Adrien and showed the company’s sympathy for the victims rather than the villain.

Camera flashed as Felix reopened his eyes. Reporters pushing forward with their demanding questions and microphones ready to accept his answers.

“What about Adrien Agreste?”

“I’m sorry there is no Adrien Agreste.” Felix said sharply. It was what Adrien had asked him to do.

“Then who was the model Gabriel used?” This was the part that Adrien knew Felix could handle. He watched as Felix threw on his best Adrien smile and scruffed his hair into the shaggy mane that was Adrien’s trade hair style. He was good. Adrien missed the antics of their childhood with his twin of a cousin. Adrien snorted a laugh then shook his head returning to his chores.

“Is it dinner time yet?” Plagg complained. Adrien returned to the seating area. Plagg was still seated on his favorite armchair with a lump of cheese. It wasn’t Camembert but it seemed to satiate him enough.

“You're right.” he smiled realizing how quickly the day went by. “Let’s go.” Adrien walked to the front door. Looking back at Plagg wondering why the little guy wasn’t moving. Plagg stared at him stupidly.

“You're not planning on taking the metro again,” Plagg complained. “When we can take the quicker route.”

“It’s still light outside, I can’t risk Cat Noir being seen by the public.”

“He was seen last night by those guys?”

“But who is going to believe a bunch of criminals?” Adrien realized he would have to think of something to maintain his own cover of darkness.

“But you're not even Cat Noir anymore.” Plagg reminded him. “Just change the appearance of your suit.”

“Wait,” Adrien walked back into the seating area. “I can do that?”

“Kind of,” Plagg explained. “You will still be dressed in black, but you could… add a hoodie to cover your sunshine blond hair.” Plagg flew up and looked Adrien over. His tiny hand on his chin. “Maybe you could check out Marinettes’ website for some thoughts.”

“But when I transform it automatically puts this design on me.” Adrien was confused.

“It’s too basic,” Plagg complained. “Shadow Moth never wore a dress I can assure you but Mayura did. Polymouse looked nothing like Multimouse, and let’s face it, Luka was a way better holder for Sass than you.” Plagg was still sore about that one. Adrien thought about it. Sure a hoodie would help, but he didn’t want people to know there was A BLACK CAT superhero in Shanghai.

“I’ll think about it. For now, we take the Metro.” He grabbed his coat and key then opened the door.

Adrien got off the bus at the same stop as last night and went into the same store. This time he would grab something at random then head to the restaurant. He could smell something amazing coming from the restaurant down the street and it made him think of a seafood dish he had the last time they visited. Adrien found the seafood tanks in the back of the market and picked out 4 hairy crabs.

“Cheng Sifu, I am here,” Adrien said as he entered the kitchen. He handed the bag with the four live crabs in it to Cheng. His eyes widened in excitement as if he had hoped for this.

“This is a very fortunate fateful food, Adrien.” He dropped the four crabs into the already boiling pot. “I started this broth earlier for another crab dish but these are much fatter and tastier.” Cheng proceeded to show Adrien how to prepare the broth and they worked quickly as the crab's shells turned bright red before they used a wire scoop to lift them from the pot. Cheng strained the broth from the pot setting it aside as they rinsed the crab in ice-cold water so they could deshell them. Cheng flung droplets of water from his fingers as he worked so quickly. Splattering Adrien on the face. Adrien laughed like a little kid seeing the playful grin on Sifu's face.

“I give you Adrien Soup.” Cheng set a bowl down in front of Adrien.

“De Vanily Soup.” Adrien corrected him. The steam rolled off the bowl as chunks of crab bobbed in the bowl. The red broth with vegetables floating sent an aroma into Adrien's face. He was proud to be able to know how to make this. Cheng played the accordion as Adrien scooped the soup into his mouth. He lost himself somewhere in the memory as he looked to his side smiling expecting to see Marinette laughing at her uncle. She wasn’t there. The smile drained from Adrien’s face as he looked back at Cheng.

“We could call her.” Cheng set the accordion down then took a seat across from Adrien. He let his face fall back to his bowl as he continued to eat trying to regain his composure. He felt the burning in his eyes as the tears tried to well up but he swallowed them down with another bite of soup.

“Best not.” He said then looked at his watch. “You know, the time difference.” He shrugged then lifted his empty bowl. They returned to the kitchen to clean up but the kitchen staff took his bowl and there was nothing more to do. “See you tomorrow Cheng Sifu.” Adrien gave him a quick wave then headed for the alleyway. It was very dark now as clouds were rolling in. Adrien thought about what Plagg had said earlier and imagined what his suit would look like with a hood.

“Plagg claws out.” He said. Sure enough, as his suit covered his body from toe to head, a leather hood sprouted off the neck covering his head, his cat ears protruded from the top. It came down far enough over his eyes that while he could still see, it would make seeing his face that much harder. It was much different from the suit he wore as Aspik which completely covered his head, this one instead felt more modern and airy. He made his way back to Chao.

“It will rain tonight, Xuesheng,” Chao said as Mao landed on the ground before him. “We will start with a few small lessons, but you will need to rest your Kwami.” Mao had to take a minute to take in what Chao had said.

“Rest my…” his breath caught in his lungs. “Kwami?”

“You think me a fool? That I do not know what powers your ability.” Chao turned and headed into a side room of the temple. Mao followed him. There were many drawings on the walls, various characters that depicted magical beings. “Many believe them to be folklore. And to those who are not trained, they are.” Adrien sees a black cat adorned character from an ancient Chinese battle. “Many are taught here and sent to the guardian temple to become guardians. I was one of them.” Chao said.

“You were a guardian?” Mao asked.

“I was there when the temple was gobbled up by a sentimonster.” Chao turned to look at him. “It was you, and your partner that defeated it, and restored the temple.”

Mao was shocked as he stood before his Sifu. Chao turned and walked deeper into the temple down a flight of stone stairs to a large room filled with various weaponry, sparring dummies and in the middle of the room a large sparring mat. Mirror lined the four walls surrounding the mat. The torch-style electric lighting illuminated the room in an orange glow. There was a small table in the corner with a plate of cheese and crackers.

“I assume Plagg still eats human-sized portions of cheese?” Chao asked. Mao chuckled. He was still nervous at the prospect of exposing his identity to anyone but Master Fu. “I assure you, it is safe here.”

“Claws in.” He whispered. Plagg zipped out. His eyes exposing his shock as he found himself in a strange place. Until his eyes fell on the Sifu.

“Chao Sifu?” Plagg asked in surprise. He flew up to the old man gripping his face in his tiny hands. Chao chuckled at the action, bringing his hands to cup the Kwami.

“You seem… friendly.” Adrien felt a bit jealous as he watched his best friend warm up to a stranger.

“Plagg and I encountered much mischief.” He stared at the Kwami now sitting in his hands. “I was but a child when I went to the temple. I felt caged in. I did not want to be there.” he set Plagg down by the plate then brought his hands back together in front of himself. “Sometimes at night, Plagg and I would escape the temple and bound free through the mountains.” Adrien's jaw dropped as he heard the Sifu talk about his rebellious side.

“Sounds like someone I know,” Adrien said acting innocent.

“Cat Noir had plenty of freedom, while Adrien was locked in the best bedroom any teenage boy could want.” Plagg scoffed as he gobbled some cheese.

“Oh, is that so?” Chao asked.

“It’s a long story.” Adrien swung his arms in anticipation of his first lesson.

“We shall start with some basic steps.” Chao led him to the center of the sparring mat after they kicked off their shoes.

Adrien hurt so bad as he rolled out of bed the next morning. Not sure if he would be able to move. In the bathroom, he stripped out of his pajamas tossing them on the floor. He caught sight of his body in the ever-present mirrors that encircled the room. The main thing he hated about the bathroom. He was his own constant reminder of his father.

“Hmm…” he mused in the mirror. “At least now I know what father would have looked like after taking a beating.” he chuckled. Plagg droned on something about being awake so early and not having anywhere to go.

After soaking in the steaming hot jet stream tub Adrien sat on the couch with nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist. He had to lower the eclectic blinds on the windows to prevent possible sighting of the mysterious floating creature even though they were up high enough that it was most likely not a concern.

He opened his laptop and began searching through design pages looking for ideas for his Hei Mao suit.

“Nothing,” Adrien said frustrated after a while.

“What about Marinette. She could design something for you.” Plagg offered. Adrien shook his head, he wanted nothing more than to wear a Marinette design again.

“I can’t talk to her Plagg.” Adrien groaned.

“But Felix can, and if I remember right he is the CEO of a fashion company am I right?” Plagg was on to something. He picked up his cell phone and dialed up his cousin.

“Adrien to what do I owe the pleasure of your call?” He sounded upset.

“What is it, Felix?” Adrien’s question could wait.

“I just got out of a meeting with public relations and they’re screaming for something to boost the community morale.” Adrien smiled. This was purrfect he thought.

“I think I can solve your problem and you can solve mine.” Adrien started. “Initiate a community-wide design competition. The theme is aged-up versions of Ladybug and Cat Noir in more… fitting attire.”

“It’s a competition?” Felix asked. “What would the reward be?”

“How about the winner gets to spend an entire day or week as a Graham De Vanily designer and their design is featured in the catalog, as say a costume.” Adrien grinned. “I’ll be the final judge, a silent Judge.”

“How,” Felix started, his voice sounding confused. “Does this benefit you?”

“Remember that girl, Marinette?” Adrien asked him.

“How could I forget,” Felix remember the beautiful girl from the video sent to Adrien.

“She’s a designer and well, I really want a costume designed by her.” Adrien wasn’t entirely lying.

“Let me guess, you want the Ladybug costume.” Felix scoffed.

“Exactly, well one of each. But the winner will be the one who designs the best of each costume, it’s a two for the win.” Adrien’s face beamed and he was glad that Plagg was the only one who could see it.

“I’ll put the word out,” Felix said coldly before hanging up the phone.

It had been nearly a month since the announcement for the costume design went out. He watched Marinette’s webpage and even found Alya’s blog. They definitely knew about it and even commented that Marinette would be entering her designs in as well. Adrien was so excited. His body was getting more accustomed to the beatings dished out by Chao Sifu, and his cooking skills got better with Cheng Sifu. During the day he often went past the temple to watch Chao Sifu teaching classes to groups of younger kids. They seemed to be far too young to learn martial arts but he was also forced to participate in far more activities by the time he was their age.

He spoke a number of different languages and played the piano. Adrien hadn’t touched one since he left his in his old bedroom. Felix said he wanted to move into the Agreste manor but felt uncomfortable with that idea given the current state of the public opinion regarding it. So he agreed to ensure the mansion was being maintained for when Adrien was ready to return to it.

Adrien felt a little stalkerish as he checked Marinette’s social media accounts daily, followed Alya’s blog, and even yes. The Lady blog. Marinette got more beautiful as she grew up. He had been watching his friends from afar. Nino seemed to be doing good. He even found Luka’s page. He wondered why Marinette hadn’t mentioned anything on her pages about her boyfriend or husband. Luka seemed happily married as he bragged about various things his twins were doing, never posting pictures of them though, or his wife.

Something tugged at Adrien’s heart as he scrolled through her pages. Juleka now served as her primary female model for her designs and even Luka joined in on occasion. He used to be Marinette’s model. As the contest date closed in, Adrien had to fight the urge to return to Paris for it. He wanted to be there, to witness Marinette winning. He knew her designs were going to be the winners. The days dredged by as Adrien maintained his covert agenda. His evening meals with Cheng Sifu, and his training with Chao Sifu. Two people that maintained his secrets. Even the grocery clerk aided him in his endeavors as she would help him pick out his fateful food items each day.

“So, are you planning on being here for the judging?” Felix asked.

“You know I can’t.” Adrien felt like his father, he had always had Nathalie walk around with the tablet showing him each of the designs. He didn’t even want to be that present.

“I have an idea,” Felix said. “I’ll call you right back.” A few minutes passed when Adrien’s phone chimed on his duo to pick up a video call. He saw Felix standing in a mirror wearing a pair of clear lens glasses. The image was coming from a micro camera in the frames. “This way, You can hear and see everything and no one will be the wiser.”

“How, can you hear me?” he asked. Felix reached up to the earpieces over both ears.

“The speakers are her like with earbuds only they don’t go in the ear. I can’t see you though unless I look at my phone.”

“This is purrfect.” Adrien beamed. He saw his cousin groan dropping his shoulders.

“Did you just make a cat pun?”

“Yep.”

“Are you blushing?”

“Pawsibly.”

“You’re encourageable.” Felix turned away from the mirror. He was in his suit at the Bourgeois Hotel. It was just like the one Chloe used to live in.

“I know.” Adrien fought back the urge to say something cattish.

“Goodbye, Adrien.” Despite his cold tone, Felix really did seem to enjoy their dynamics. He was the straight-laced one and Adrien, fun and playful.

“Could you imagine Plagg?” Adrien slumped back in his chair. “If Felix was given this miraculous,” he said holding up his hand. A look of terror crossed Plagg’s face as if he was threatened to never be given cheese again. Adrien laughed.

It was the day of the competition and Adrien watched as Felix straightened his tie. A chill running down his spine as he recalled how his father used to do it. Felix really was the younger version of his father. Sometimes he forgot that they had different fathers. Even though he looked nothing like his father, rather they both looked like Gabriel and Amelie.

Adrien shook the feeling off his shoulders as he watched his cousin leave the bathroom. The venue was set up at the Graham De Vanily building in the showroom. There were tons of people scattered about the room with various changing stalls set up using temporary wall structures. Felix walked through the halls slowly inspecting each station. Two models to each one in a Cat Noir suit, the other in a Ladybug suit. The gender specification had been an explicit requirement for the event.

Felix stopped by each inspecting the details and scoffed moving on to the next. Most of them were near replicas of the original suits.

“Is there just one person here who didn’t copy the original design?” Felix fumed.

“There,” Adrien said through the screen. He had to mirror his phone to the TV so he could get a better look at everything. His heart dropped when he recognized the old familiar midnight hair. It was no longer pulled into two down ponytails, instead, it was long and flowing. There was a bit of curl to it as it swayed back and forth with her movements. She was preparing her model already in costume. “I hope she’s not married,” he said before he realized his cousin could hear everything.

“Miss Dupain-Cheng,” Felix said stepping up behind her. “What have you got for us this time.” He at least sounded pleasant. She spun around to face him. Adrien watched her face as it lit up in a bright red hue.

“A..A... Adrien?” Adrien could feel heat welling up in her heart even though she was, once again mistaking Felix for him. The fact that she was still thinking about him and tripping over her words at the thought she was in his presence made him wish he had gone.

“Felix, actually.” he took both of her hands in his looking down at them as he placed a kiss on each knuckle. “Adrien was a fool for letting a gem such as yourself slip through his fingers. Adrien fumed as his cousins’ obvious attempt to annoy him. Marinette’s cheeks returned to their normal hue as her face melted into sadness. Adrien’s heart broke for a minute.

“Do you need a tissue, Adrien?” Plagg asked. Adrien ignored him so as to not expose him to Felix who could hear everything except the Kwami.

“Show us what you have made for us.” Felix said. No one knew he was televising this for Adrien. Marinette explained in detail the design of this new Lady Noir Suit. It wasn’t all red as Ladybugs had been instead there was more black around the waist with a light red tulle skirting around the waist allowing for movement while offering a bit more coverage to the more sensitive areas. Another Tulle adornment lay over the breasts.

“Exquisite Marinette,” Felix said.

“Ask about the signature stitching.” Adrien chimed in quickly. He was nearly biting at the bit as he watched his cousin explore every detail of the suit.

“Ah-hem. Um, show me your signature stitching.” He looked up at Marinette who suddenly blushed.

“How do you know about that?” Marinette shrieked.

“Tell her Gabriel had made reference to it after other designs she had done.” Adrien threw in.

“I am the CEO of a fashion company, it is my job to know about that,” Felix smirked. Marinette pulled out another suit, it was designed for a man but she held up the collar piece showing the distinct gold embossed threading signing her name through the stitch.

“You did that with each of these designs?” he mused then moved on to the Cat Noir suit. Adrien swallowed hard when he saw Luka wearing the Cat Noir Suit. He almost didn’t recognize him with the hood pulled nearly over his face. The Ears protruding through the hood even seemed to have a little fluff to them. The hood flowed down the back with fine red lines detailing the changes in the material. The extra padding around the soft spots was highly more with the deep red. Felix walked around Luka slowly inspecting every detain including the attached belt that held a baton. The extra-long belt that also served as Cat’s tail dangled down to the floor. Adrien wondered if his belt was actually longer now than it was when he was a teenager, he was much taller now. “Why is this red and not Neon green as his ring?”

“This design is meant more for stealth. The red.” Marinette blushed.

“Ah, she’s so cute.” Adrien didn’t mean to say that out loud. Felix snorted.

“Who is Cat Noir without his Ladybug?” she finished. “I added more black to her’s to signify him on her so I thought I’d give him a piece of her.” Adrien felt warm at the thought. “As for the hood, Cat Noir has such bright hair, so this would provide him more stealth.” She scooped up the tail belt holding the end out for Felix to inspect. In fine detail along the edge of the belt was the customary Marinette signature.

“Very good Miss Dupain-Cheng,” Felix again took her hands. He flipped them over and even rubbed his fingers along the back of her hands. “Lovely, sure you didn’t make these by hands these hands are far too nice to have labored so.” Ooh, that smooth talker. Adrien was standing now anger fumed on his face. Felix turned away and began walking to another stall.

“Wait.” Marinette’s voice was small through the receiver. Felix turned around. Luka was holding her shoulders as she stood in front of him face Felix. She nearly shook as Adrien swore he saw a teardrop from her chin. “Can you tell him, if you see him…”

“What that you love him? I saw that video message you sent him. Was that your attempt to confess your feelings or just console a friend.” Felix seemed a bit harsh but Adrien bit back his words wondering what it was Marinette had said in the video.

“Tell him we miss him.” Ah there it was the fire in her eyes she was angry. “We miss our friend.” She turned away from Felix in a huff. Felix laughed.

“What are you doing Felix?” Adrien barked.

“Congratulations Marinette, I think you might just be our winner.” He scoffed then turned around.

“I just had to see her fire up, oh Adrien,” Felix whispered. “I can see why she means so much to you.” Felix tapped a button on his phone and disconnected the call. Adrien had recorded the entire video call. He replayed the video showing Cat Noir’s suit. He memorized every detail. Mulling it over in his head before setting his phone down and calling on his transformation.

He ran to the bathroom to examine his new suit. Every detail mimicked Marinette’s design. He suddenly realized and reached for his belt tail. It was longer. He studied the red stitching design and found it. Her signature was embedded into the magic suit he now wore.

#miraculous fandom #miraculous chat noir #adrienette #miraculous ladybug #miraculous world #felix graham de vanily #miraculous adrien #adrien agreste

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cousinwingding97 · 4 years ago

Text

Silver Memories

Chapter Two: The Chase

Words: over 5k

No warnings. I swear there will be more Mando and the reader. Just wait! Next chapter for sure. I cut this one off at a cliffhanger, but it was getting to be sooo long. Also, very hard to write an amnesiac character so hopefully it’s working. Enjoy!

Sleep must have overtaken you because you found yourself jostled awake by a woman shaking your shoulder. “Excuse me, miss. Stowaways aren’t allowed free travel. Come on, wake up.”

You groaned with the sudden waking and then jumped when you realized you had been caught. The woman who had found you didn’t look angry, just frustrated more than anything. Her dark, curly hair was pulled up and she had a bit of grease on her coveralls.

“Don’t groan at me. You haven’t even started working. I have, and I could use an extra set of hands with my workload. Now, come on,” she holds her hand out to me, “let’s go and get started.”

She doesn’t seem mean. Just rushed. You hesitantly grab her hand as she pulls you up. You don’t have a chance to ask questions or explain. The woman starts walking towards where you assume is her workstation. She more than makes up for your lack of words.

“Next time, don’t hide in the cargo area after moving a crate. Especially if it is one of the only crates left. Most people pay attention. Try the engine room next time. Unless it’s a military ship, most people aren’t around their engines unless something’s wrong. I don’t know if you’re hiding out here or just trying to catch a ride. Pollis Massa is typically a safe haven, so I don’t know why you decided to leave. Why did you? What’s your name?”

You were trying to keep track of all she had said. There was a lot to process and download into your brain. The question about your name didn’t help. You should’ve known the answer to that question at least.

“I... uh don’t know. I woke up there and there were people I didn’t recognize that seemed violent, so I left. I don’t know anything past the fact that I just want to be somewhere else.”

“A woman who wants to make her own way and isn’t afraid of how she gets there. I like it. My name’s Marri. I’m the chief mechanic on the Serpent. You know anything about mechanics?”

“Uh, no.” This woman surprised you. You were glad she wasn’t interrogating you. She seemed more about getting business done rather than getting you in trouble. You couldn’t even answer any of her questions anyway.

Marri just grunts, “Eh, you can hold the tools. Can you do what you’re told?”

“Yeah, I don’t see why not.”

“Good. Let’s get to it.”

“But, what about the stowaway business?” You asked hesitantly. All of this seemed too good to be true. How were you not going to get in trouble?

“Listen, honey, we have work to do on this ship. Lots of it. The captain ain’t too much of a stickler. She just wants to get the job done and done well. If you can help and work your way through this trip to Utapau then you aren’t just a freeloader.” This woman surprised you. You were glad she wasn’t interrogating you. She seemed more about getting business done rather than getting you in trouble, but you were still surprised she would just let it go that easily, especially to a stowaway.

While you tried to help Marri, you didn’t feel like you were contributing much, but Marri didn’t say otherwise. You got the sense that she was too into her own work and would only talk if there wasn’t anything else to do. You didn’t mind. Your mind was loud, but the work was constant enough to keep you focused on something else besides all the unanswered questions.

When Marri decided things were done, she took you up to the main area that looked like it was for the crew to relax. Some of the crew were already in there and you grew nervous. Marri may not care and supposedly not the captain, but what about the others?

“Everyone, this is Stowaway. Stowaway, meet everyone,” Marri announced.

You stood there unwillingly in a spotlight while eyes stared at you. None stayed on you for too long. Some just halfheartedly grunted a response and others straight up said nothing. Okay, I don’t know if I should be offended or relieved.

Marri didn’t seem surprised by the response either. “You wouldn’t be the first. Like I said, Polis Massa is sort of a sanctuary and people look for passage to a new life from there more often than not. We’ve learned to deal with it and consider it a job hazard.”

“Oh.” That’s what you were wanting to do, right? Find a new one or your old one? “Honestly, I don’t know what I’m looking for besides safety.”

Marri gave you a tight smile and went to the line for food. You followed, not wanting to be too far away from her. She may be right with the others not caring about you being a stowaway, but you didn’t want to push your luck either. Dinner was spent in silence as you thought over what Marri had asked you about what you wanted from this newfound chance of a new beginning.

You didn’t know how long you had been on the ship exactly when you woke to the sound of Marri waking you for the second time. The two of you had went to her barracks and she had given you extra blankets to sleep on the floor of the ship. It wasn’t completely uncomfortable and you had fallen sound asleep not long after you laid your head down. Now, she was urgently waking you.

“The captain wants to speak to you about an important matter.”

Trepidation filled your veins at her words. Maybe the captain wasn’t as easygoing as you had been led to believe. Maybe someone had complained about you.

You wanted to stay hidden in the barracks, but you knew that wouldn’t be an option. There were too many on the ship and you were just one person. You hated feeling helpless, but you knew you had to follow. Maybe I can explain the situation and talk my way out of being thrown into the vacuum of space.

The longer you walked, the harder your heart pounded against your ribcage. Marri looked over at you and tried to smile encouragingly. The act was appreciated, yet your heart continued its pounding. What are they going to do to me?

Automatic doors parted with a hiss and revealed the bridge. A half circle of a viewport showing a blue tunnel of with lights blazing past in flashes. It looked like you were traveling lightspeed, the word and concept coming into your mind as soon as you saw it.

The crew was stationed at various terminals around the bridge and on a lower level. One woman was standing above it all and overlooking the bridge. She had buzzed hair and a severe look rounded on you as you came into view. Marri saluted her and the captain returned the gesture. Marri turned to you, “This is Captain Roxy.”

You tried to smile and begin explain, but the captain cut you off, “Marri told me of you. Believe me girl, I have no problem with you on the Serpent. Especially since you are willing to work. Unfortunately, something has come up that I can’t ignore.” You didn’t know what she was talking about and your eyebrow raised in confusion. The captain read the expression on your face and offered up, “Let me just show you.”

She turned to one of the many terminals and the man sitting in front of the flashing buttons let his hands fly across the individual pieces in what looked like a rehearsed dance.

In front of the captain was what looked like an ordinary table, but once the man’s hands stilled, the table lit up with a blue see-through image. Your heart sank at the image. It was the man that Cara had been talking to, Mando. His helmet seemed to stare through you. The whole bridge was silent with what you assumed was the same fear you felt. You knew you weren’t the only one who had reason to be afraid. The image, or hologram your inner voice supplied, was image was terrifying just by itself.

The filtered voice began with something you could only described as restrained violence, “I believe you all have someone of importance to me. She is under my protection and care. I have tracked her to your ship and I will be tracking you to your destination once you land, rest assured of that. If she is not there, safe and unharmed, everyone on the Serpent is dead. Don’t think you can hide and don’t try running. You know what I am. It will make it worse for you once I find you.” The hologram cuts out and you feel a bead of sweat travel down your back. You feel all eyes on you, but you can’t tear your eyes from where the helmet had just been. The black visor was burned into your eyes.

Captain Roxy finally speaks up, “This transmission just came in not too long ago. We have already responded to it with the promise of your safe return. If I had known you were a part of the Mandolorian’s clan, I would have turned around as soon as Marri found you. I cannot risk the life of my crew for a fugitive from a bounty hunter or whatever you are.”

You finally turned to face her. You were wanted by a bounty hunter? That must have been why they wanted you. You were worth money and the rest of the group had wanted to receive whatever reward someone had placed for you. The word “Mandolorian” didn’t ring any bells either, but you assumed that was what Mando was short for. You doubted it was because you were a part of his clan, but more of a wanted bounty. For what, you had no idea.

The implications of what you had done fully hit you like a starship to the gut. I ran. I ran from some dangerous people and worse, they can find me easily. They aren’t going to take too kindly to their payday running away. What is going to happen to me when they find me? Will he just kill me to make it easier to bring in?

Before you could plead your case, the captain spoke, “My mind is decided. We will wait at Utapau for the Mandolorian to pick you up in order to make sure he sees we kept you safe.” Her voice softened as she spoke the next words, “For the sake of my crew, please let him know that we did not know we had you on board.” She turns away from you and Marri is pulling you along away from the bridge.

Finally, your words come back to you. “Marri, please. I can’t go back to them. I don’t even know what I have done to have a bounty. I don’t want anyone hurt, but I can’t stay here. I don’t even know who I am, let alone what I’ve done. This has to be a mistake!”

Marri doesn’t look at you. There is a guilty look in her eyes and you can tell your words are getting to her. “Please, help me. Don’t let him take me.”

“Look, I understand. You seem like a nice girl. I don’t want to do it either and honestly; I don’t think the captain even wants to give you up. Not many people like dealing with bounty hunters. That kind has a reputation. But Mandolorians are a proud and violent race. They don’t just give up. They keep their word too. He meant what he said about our crew.” She finally turns to look at you and grabs your shoulders for emphasis. There are tears in her eyes, “You are not the only one who is scared. We all are. He might kill us just to send a message to others. I’m sorry, truly. You don’t even know who you are, but just think for a moment, maybe you were someone terrible.” The last words are spoken more like a question. She doesn’t believe them either.

Your heart clenches at the possibility that she might be right; however, that doesn’t mean you can just give up. You don’t feel like you are a bad person. Despite the will to live, you don’t wish anything bad upon these people just because of your choices.

“Is there anything I can do? Do I have a chance?” You’re begging for any sort of hope or idea and you don’t care if you sound pathetic.

Marri looks at you for a long time. Her dark skin reflects the tears and you can’t help feeling bad for even asking it of her. She’s terrified.

“I don’t know, honestly. Unless you happen to know how to fight, I don’t know if there is anything any of us can do. They are hunters. They get what they are after.”

She’s given up. She doesn’t have any ideas. Why would she help me though? She barely knows me and she’s known her crew for longer.

You will have to come up with your own plan. She leads you back to her barracks, but neither of you can sleep. You are too anxious to even try to close your eyes.

All too soon, you feel the ship starting to land. Your breath hitches and you know there’s no time left.

Marri gently leads you to the ramp. You are met with what you take to be Utapau. The hanger you are in is open aired. There’s a cliff to your right showing you how trapped you are. Your eyes lead up to the walls of what appears to be a giant hole or cavern that you are in currently. There are creatures flying in and out of the hole. You see them land on another pad further away along with some other creatures that look like they are made for running, not flying. There are buildings sticking out from the sides of the cliffs and everything has an industrial, desert look to it.

Unless you steal one of the ships, not an option, or steal the flying creatures, you are stuck in the hole. To your left, the rest of the level you are on of this landing pad has nothing to your advantage. There are machines that look like transportation, but you still don’t know how to operate them. The rest of the crew is unloading while you desperately look for any escape.

None of the inhabitants are paying you any attention. None of them look like they could help you. Most are short and non-threatening with bulging eye sockets and round figures. The taller grey ones with lines running down their faces that look almost like scares seem to be in charge. They have sharp teeth and wear blood red. They look threatening, but too threatening for you to approach.

Marri leads you out of the way of the crew and closer to the edge of the drop off. You look down to see just how high up you still are within this crater. You can’t help but feel like you are in a grave.

The bottom is so far down that you can only make out specks of blue. Marri startles you from your thoughts, “The bottom is water and caves. There’s not much beyond the top. There are similar layouts. This planet is full of sinkholes and cities within. You won’t get far, unless you know how to fly. Your best bet is the water. They can’t track in water as well as land,” she whispers in your ear.

“Why are you telling me this? Unless I miraculously survive a fall, I can’t get down there.”

“I know. But there is a chance if you get one of those varactyls.” She gestures to the lizard looking creatures that you spotted earlier.

You look incredulously at her. She is actually trying to help you? After everything she said to you?

“Look, I don’t know who you are or if you have done anything wrong, but if you are innocent, I don’t want that on my conscience. I can’t help you much more than this, but I could cause a distraction. I have to think of my friends on that ship.”

“I understand. I am grateful. Believe me, I don’t want you to get hurt or killed because of me.” She seems relieved at your words. “I will wait until he sees that I am alright and you guys are safe, ok?”

Again, tears flood her eyes, “Thank you.”

She leads you away from the edge and back to the crew. You don’t have restraints on, but you keep your word. You wait for the Mandolorian to arrive.

Every ship entering the hole brings your heart into your throat with panic. For what feels like hours, but it is never him. You almost fool yourself into thinking that he won’t come.

No such luck. One ship that feels different from the rest enters the atmosphere and you can almost feel the danger radiating off that ship before you even see it. It is not a large ship by any means, but the two guns on the front of the curved hull and the battle scars gives away the true nature of it.

Marri stands besides you and you follow. The whole crew waits as the ship comes closer to the landing platform. You feel something pressed into your hand as you realize it’s a blaster. Marri leans into your ear and whispers, “Only use it if you have to.” You nod and tuck it into your waistband and cover it with your shirt.

Without another word, she walks up to Roxy and the rest of the crew follows. You are in the back of the crowd and all eyes are facing towards the ship that has now turned to land on its bottom with the hull facing up instead of out. Everyone is enraptured and you know you could try to escape now, but you told Marri you would wait until Mando saw that they hadn’t harmed you.

That’s when you notice something out of the corner of your eye. One of the smaller inhabitants trying to wrangle one of the winged lizards is stuck in the reins. Its stubby legs wrapped up and the creature is starting to take off. The poor bug-eyed thing was frantically waving its arms to try to grab the reins as it started to go over the edge, but it was upside down and couldn’t reach.

You couldn’t explain what happened next. You saw that in a moment and the next you were running as fast as you could towards the flying lizard, that was now almost over the edge completely, and reaching out to grab the little guy’s hand.

Now, here you were. Dangling over a hole that led to certain death should you fall. Focusing on the task, you grabbed onto the reins above the leg and pulled yourself up. Once you were above the alien, you carefully loosened the knot. He must’ve mistaken what you were doing and thought you were trying to kill him. He thrashed around even harder causing the lizard to jerk and try to hold you both. It was a scrawny one and smaller than its larger brethren, so your nerves shot up even more.

“Calm down, I’m trying to help you!”

That must have gotten through to him. The frantic squeaks stopped and he held still.

You had loosened the knot enough that you reached down as best you could and grabbed his hand. With a quick jerk, you tugged him out of the reins and swung him back towards the platform into the arms of his comrades.

The celebration and alien sounding cheers didn’t last as the creature decided it had enough of you. Thrashing wildly and randomly, your hands lost their grip and you’re thrown far. You only have a moment to realize you are heading towards the pit of the flightless lizards before panic fully sets in. You were high up; this was probably going to break some bones at best and kill you at worst.

You close your eyes preparing for the pain. A sudden stop in motion without any pain makes your eyes fly open in surprise. One of the varactyls, a giant blue one had caught you in its mouth like you were a toy to fetch. Thankfully, it had caught your shirt in its beak and not your flesh.

There’s commotion outside of the pit and a bit of a crowd is starting to rush into the pit. You know one of them is going to be Mando, so you have two options: take your chances or take this lizard for ride. The answer was obvious.

Patting the beak behind you, you try to convince the beast to let you go, “Hey, let go. Come on, come on. I’m not a toy.” You pat harder to get the point across and with a huff of boredom it does as it’s told. You don’t give it a chance to get far. This one had been saddled already and, in the commotion, had been forgotten. You weren’t going to look a gift lizard in the mouth.

You throw yourself into the saddle and give a spirited whip of the reins. The beast doesn’t hesitate either and lets out an excited yip before lunging forward.

If you hadn’t been holding onto the reins as tight as you had been, you would’ve fallen off. The varactyl was far faster than you expected. You heard some shouts behind you, but you didn’t look back in fear of what you might see.

The paths ahead of you were speeding by towards deeper into this hole and network of tunnels. Stalactites and stalagmites made up most of the natural architecture along with flora, but no signs of where any path lead. So, you chose one that looked like it may take you down towards the bottom of the pit like Marri said.

Everything sped by in a blur of tans and bursts of color from the plants that lined the path. You chanced a look behind you and no one was following you from what you could tell. At least there was some good news.

The bad news was that you had no idea where you were heading and no idea what to do now. There probably wasn’t a chance of actually hiding from a bounty hunter, but you were going to give it your best shot until you could stowaway on another ship.

Thankfully, the main paths seemed to lead in a spiral pattern either up or down levels and split off into smaller paths leading to the inner most parts of the planet. You had lucked out and you knew it was only a matter of time before that luck ended. Especially using so much to save that little one from the falling to his death. There wasn’t any other explanation you could think of for that move. The fact that you weren’t dead was a surprise at this point.

It didn’t take as long as you expected for you to reach the very bottom of the pit. The varactyl was extremely fast and sped through the levels like it had its own hyperdrive.

Once you saw the end of the path leading to docks where small fishing boats were lazily floating and very few life forms to witness your presence, you pulled back on the reins and hopped off. The varactyl walked towards the water and drank deeply.

You didn’t know where to go from here. The path just led straight into the water almost like a ramp. There were caves you could see all around. The water wasn’t deep until near the middle of the pit and Marri had said to keep to the water.

Cautiously, you stepped into the water. It was pleasant and clear. You could see the bottom and the stone underneath was smooth beneath your feet. You could survive in this water without fear of freezing.

Do I know how to swim? These simple questions that only you, or people who knew you, should be able to answer and having no answers yourself, was infuriating. You couldn’t remember anything about yourself, yet you knew basic concepts. The unfairness of everything was boiling your blood and your frustration was growing the more you thought about it.

No! I don’t have time for this. I’ll try floating and see if I can. The water looks shallow enough for the most part, so even if I can’t I could at least try wading towards some caves.

You knew that stealing a boat was not an option since all of them were being used. Swimming anywhere was better than nothing.

You were about to step out further into the water when a thought hit you. They could track me by following that creature. It’s a dead giveaway. You looked back at the bright blue beast that stuck out like a flashing sign advertising your whereabouts.

You walked over to it and gently waved your hands in a shooing motion, “Thanks for the catch and the ride, but you should go.” It didn’t budge. Just looked at you with intelligent eyes and tilting its head in a questioning look. You sighed. “Ugh, come on. You should go. Go free if you want! Just run somewhere!” You started waving your arms a little more aggressively, “Shoo! Go!” You walked up to it closer and louder. The beast finally lost interest and left towards where it came from. You breathed a sigh of relief and walked back to the water.

It looked more intimidating now that you were trying to think of how to swim. Maybe it would be an instinct more than anything. So, you stopped thinking and tried to spear the water surrounding you to your arms in front of you and almost laying out. Your stomach reflexively tightened with strain of keeping you afloat. Ok, so at least I can float. It’s not pretty, but I can float.

Establishing the fact that you could float and possibly swim, your newest and best plan was to hide in the caves and steal whatever food you could. It sounded a lot simpler than it was going to be, but what choice did you have? The blaster in your waistband wasn’t going to do much good if you missed.

The docks were under an overhang, blocking it from the hanger’s view. Swimming out into the open was a stupid idea. Your best bet was to stay close to the sides and close to the docks for food.

You didn’t know what Marri had meant about not being able to track you in the water, but you would do your best to stay in the water and take that fact at face value. So, you swam to a cave off to the left of the docks, tucked away behind cliff faces and rock outcroppings.

You swam for a while along the edges of the rocks until you could still see the docks in the distance. You found a cave along the way, but would have to wait and see if this cave would even work for your needs.

I don’t even know what my needs are. The mouth of the cave opened to a sandy inner sanctuary. You could rest there and sort out what you would need. What if I can’t eat? What if I need something specific? Am I allergic to anything?

You laid down in the sand, staring up to the ceiling of the cave. What if running away had just killed you? Fear chilled your heart. I think I just made the biggest mistake I could make. Hot tears of frustration and hopelessness pricked the corners of your eyes. You had no idea who or even what you were and you had left anyone who did know in fear of being killed or sold off when you just may have killed yourself unknowingly.

“You stupid, stupid girl. What did you just do?” You held back a sob. All the emotions that had been in the back of your head since the moment you woke in that cell were coming to a boiling point now that you were laying down in the best form of safety you could find at the moment.

You wrapped an arm around your eyes and tried to calm your breathing. If you panicked now or got too emotional, you could die for sure if you let the weight of everything crash down and suffocate your actions. You had to hold off for now. You could cry when you were truly safe.

Those thoughts were pushed deep down and you sat up. You cupped your hand and drank deeply to quench your thirst that had built up. When was the last time I had food? That thought brought a grumble to your stomach. At least now I know I need sustenance in some form and I don’t just draw energy from the air or something weird.

The thought of going back out of hiding so soon was not appealing at the moment in case they had tracked you as far as to the docks. Once night fell, there could be a chance to steal some food if you found some by the fisherman’s homes. Stealing wasn’t your first option, but you didn’t have money or any way to fish. You still had the blaster that Marri gave you, but there wasn’t a good chance that a blaster shot wouldn’t destroy any source of food and leave enough behind.

You made your way further into the gave and away from the water. Utapau was warmer than on a ship, but you were still careful not to be close to the water in case it rose and soaked you. You were still wearing the thin clothes from Polis Massa’s medical center. If it got chilly at night on this planet, you would have to steal some clothes.

There wasn’t a memory, but there was a feeling of guilt and shame about possibly having to steal from innocent beings in order to survive. Maybe that means I’m not a bad person. Or I am and I don’t remember how to shove these feelings down yet. That thought wasn’t appealing to you. If you had been a terrible person up until the loss of memories, you weren’t in a rush to get them back.

I’ll argue about morality with myself later, you mused to yourself and let sleep take ahold of you once again for lack of anything else to do. The day had been quite exciting and your body was ready to catch its breath.

You awoke to a light chill blowing into the cave. You looked towards the mouth of the cave and only darkness met your eyes, so you walked out to the water that was still fairly warm. The night was gorgeous. You could see so many stars that it looked like a city in the sky with a moon or planet so close it took up the rest of the sky.

There were quiet squawks from above, probably the lizard like creatures. There were no other sounds besides the quiet rippling of the water.

Looking towards where you thought the docks were, you saw lights along the main bath and the water reflected the light from the stars well enough to light your way.

Now or never, I guess.

You swam towards the docks in search of anything that might be of use. You were careful not to splash and gently cut through the water to not draw attention.

There was a main dock house and about ten houses near the water. You weren’t exactly expecting food to be left out on a windowsill, but you hadn’t thought it would be this hard to find anything.

You walked around the houses, trying to look inconspicuous while you did. There were tools and nets out around, boats left tied to the posts, shoes (which none fit your tiny five-toed feet instead of the two prong shapes), and paddles. You did find a spear lying against the side of a house, which you decided to take and use some rope to sling it around your back.

There was a clothesline that did have a grey wraparound cloak that you took as well for warmth. Still, no food though.

You decided to call it a night when you caught something out of the corner of your eye. A glint of starlight off of something silver. There’s no way. There’s no way. Just be calm.

You walked slowly, trying to not look scared or like you had been caught. You wrapped the cloak around you and used that as a chance to pull the blaster out of your waistband and keep it hidden.

Nothing popped up and no one shouted at you. You were stuck though; if you left back towards safety, they would easily spot you and follow you to your hiding place and if you walked back up the path, then they would spot you and have no fuss with locals. Maybe I’m just being paranoid.

In order to keep the locals safe, you chose to walk back up the path. There could be a shootout and you didn’t want anyone to be hurt in case you were right.

It took every ounce of control to not run or try to hide. If they hadn’t spotted you or if they weren’t even there, there was no point in running. Your heart was pounding though and you felt sweat run down the side of you face. You had to concentrate on each step being slow and steady.

You walked in the middle of the path away from the lights on either side in order to not be as easily seen. You were holding your breath to listen for any sound at all, but it was like the night was just you and your footsteps. Even the squawking had died.

Then, just barely louder than the tiny scuffle of your footsteps, was the sound of someone following. It sounded like metal or spurs or some kind. You almost stopped walking when you heard it, but you kept going like nothing was wrong. Like you weren’t being stalked.

I am not prey.

Without a second to keep thinking or start to panic, you whipped the blaster around and came face to face with the silver helmet much closer than you expected. The blaster was aimed right at his armored chest.

“Walk away right now or get shot,” You did your best threatening voice and tried not to let your hands shake.

The silver helmet just continued to stare at you. The black of the visor swallowed your vision until it was like staring into a void. He still said nothing.

He just looked down at the blaster and you followed his gaze. His gloved hands were on his belt, not his weapons. He wasn’t actively threatening you, but maybe he thought he could take you without them. When he looked back up to your face, he softly spoke, “Your blaster’s safety is on.”

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turinn · 4 years ago

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Naive

Ray Blackwell x M!Reader

Summary: An invitation at a party reveals that Luka had no idea you’re gay, and brings up a concern you hadn’t had before. Tags: Crack, fluff, secret relationship, mention of homophobia, alcohol consumption A/N: This is based on a dream I had where Luka and I had this exact conversation and when I woke up and remembered it I nearly threw up laughing. I did actual research for the girls outfit and hair bc im a fashion history nerd. the pocket watch i just thought was cute. Fenrir calls the reader fruity but its okay bc hes gay too god bless Word Count: 1.5k

The party was the usual affair expected of the Godspeed's, an air of elegance- present but not too overbearing- hanging over the large hall. Music drifted gently to your ears as you took everything in, a small smile settling on your face.

You couldn't help but feel a little underdressed. The officers had, of course, kept their uniforms on, but everyone else present was dressed to the nines. You'd thought the suit you wore was lovely when you and Seth had seen it last week, dark blue with a white trim, paired with a pale cyan tie and pocket square. The gold watch that settled comfortably in your pocket had been a gift from Blanc, supposedly made by Oliver to look similar to his own, to commemorate your decision to stay in Cradle. Compared to everyone else, it felt rather simple now, but you pushed the thought aside. Nobody was judging what you were wearing, they were here to enjoy themselves same as you.

"Would you like a drink?" Ray asked, voice soft enough not to startle you too much. This wasn't too effective, as you'd gotten lost in your thoughts, and sort of forgotten there were people around you, but it was kind of him to try. "Oh, yes, please." You smiled at him and a moment later he'd walked off, talking to Sirius about something, leaving you alone with Luka. Fenrir had disappeared to greet his family when you'd first arrived, and Seth was who knows where, but you didn't mind it being just the two of you. Luka rarely came to these, in fact this was the first he'd been to since you'd arrived in Cradle, despite it being your fifth, and you decided someone should stick with him so he didn't feel quite as nervous.

As you turned to say something to him, you noticed a lady making her way over to the both of you, looking rather flustered. Her fists were clenched at her sides, and she seemed to be muttering something to herself, but it was clear she had intent to speak to one of you. Perhaps she wanted to talk to Luka? He was cute, it wouldn't surprise you. What did surprise you, however, was when she walked up to you instead.

"Um, excuse me if this is far too forward, but... would you be interested in dancing with me?" She sounded so nervous, and you almost wanted to say yes. Any other man would have been lucky to get such an invitation- she looked stunning. She wore her hair in curls, gathered at the back of her neck, with a hairpiece of pale blue flowers was pinned at the front, a necklace donning the same type of flower hanging just above the neckline of her gown. The gown in question matched the colour of the flowers well, though the width of the crinoline supported skirt would have made you concerned about the logistics of dancing with her- if you'd had any intention of saying yes. Her cheeks were tinted pink as she chewed her bottom lip and waited for your answer, avoiding your gaze. A hand on your chest and a sincerely apologetic look on your face, you began to respond. "Oh dear. I'm terribly sorry, but you seem to have gotten the wrong end of the stick. You're a very attractive young lady but I'm afraid... how should I put this," You glanced at Luka for help, but he seemed to have no idea what you were trying to tell her, "I'm afraid I don't tend to set my eye on the ladies, so to speak." "You're... gay?" A sympathetic nod. "That's the ticket. Sorry, love." "Oh, it's not a problem! I'm really sorry to have bothered you!" She suddenly looked much less nervous, though a little embarrassed, and scurried off. You sighed. "I feel a little bad. I really hope she finds someone to dance with." Luka looked at you quizzically. "Why did you lie to her?" A confused laugh escaped you. "I'm sorry?" "You told her you were into guys. Why lie?" As he said this, Seth and Fenrir came up behind him, and hearing his question their eyebrows shot up. So did yours. Was he kidding? "Luka, sweetie, you have got to tell me what part of my personality made you think I was heterosexual, so I can set about changing it immediately." Seth choked on his drink, and though you flashed him a grin, you weren't entirely kidding. Going from Victorian London to a world where being gay was perfectly acceptable had been quite the change, but you'd been certain all of your friends had known. It's not like you were quiet about it, and sure, Luka was naive but... come on, now. "Wait are you... you were being honest?" "Yes?" "Luka," Fenrir began, stepping next to you and resting an elbow on your shoulder, "How have you seriously not noticed that he's gay yet?" "Well- there was no reason for me to assume!" "You watched me drunk make out with at least 2 different Black Army soldiers in my first month here!" Luka looked flustered, and utterly dumbfounded. The expression was one he wore often, usually when people insinuated that someone was in love- but somehow about five times more confused. He was unfortunate enough that Ray and Sirius returned at this moment, just in time to hear both your last remark, and his next one.

"I thought that was just something you did when you were drunk?" In another moment you were on your knees, legs shaking so much from laughter that you couldn't hold yourself up any longer. Fenrir was right there beside you, practically convulsing. Everyone else was laughing too- except poor Luka. You felt a little bad, truly you did, but this had to be the funniest thing you had ever heard. "He's completely straight, but watch out! Get a couple drinks in him and he turns fruity!" Fenrir managed to get out between cackles, and Ray was glad to have put your drinks down when Luka had last spoken, because he too nearly fell to the ground at this.

"Luka- Luka I'm sorry." You pulled yourself to your feet, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. "We aren't laughing at you." Another fit of giggles overcame you. "Okay we kind of are, but it's not malicious or anything. That was just... hands down the funniest thing you've ever said." It took most of you 5 or so minutes to fully calm down from what he'd said, and anything that jogged your memories of it would bring you back to a state of uncontrollable laughter for the rest of the night. Luka came round to it being pretty funny after you talked him through the dozens of times you'd mentioned your sexuality to him since you'd met- every one of which had gone over his head.

Hours after the party had worn down and you'd all made your way home, you lay in bed, your head pressed against a familiar chest, and sighed. "What's up?" "I just... D'you think anyone else just hasn't realised?" Ray cocked his head, confused. "I'm gonna need a little more info than that, kitten." "I suppose I just... Back in London, it's not even legal to be gay, and I don't know if it ever will be. When I first came out to Fen, he told me that it was fine here, accepted and even celebrated. So, I guess I just thought that people wouldn't make the automatic assumption that I'm straight, y'know? I mean I talk about it a lot among you guys but- when I’m out and about... where do people think my final destination is? When I pick up a silly cat themed gift for you does the shopkeep think I’m buying it for my wife? It shouldn't be a big deal, I guess, but I'd never been able to be myself until I came here, and now it's like I can be me but... people will still only see who I am if I tell them. It's just weird is all. I dunno. Maybe I'm drunk." "You're not drunk. It's an understandable concern. I guess I've never thought about it, because whether or not people would accept that part of me has never been an issue, but the fact that you've had to hide it for so long and now that you're able to be open people still aren't seeing it must be hard. If you want we could... come out, so to speak?" Your eyebrows raised, and you moved back, propping yourself up on your arm so you could look your partner in the eyes.

It had been decided at the very start of your relationship, which had officially begun a few months after you'd made the choice to stay in Cradle, that the two of you would keep it under wraps for a while. Being from the Land of Reason was more than enough reason for people to take an unwanted interest in you, and you didn't need the extra attention being the King of Spades' partner would garner. Plus, anyone with a grudge against Ray would see you as a target the second you announced it. It had been a sensible suggestion on his part, one you hadn't hesitated to agree to, and as far as you knew only Sirius and Fenrir knew about your relationship. Fenrir because he had walked in on you sitting in Ray's lap while he worked late one night, and Sirius because- well, can anything get past that guy? And now, Ray was offering to tell the entirety of Cradle you were his, just so that you didn't feel like you were hiding your identity anymore? You could feel your eyes starting to burn, and you cursed the late hour and the alcohol in your system for making you cry so easily, but... "I don't think we need to be that drastic. You were right when you said it would keep me safe for us to not be in the public eye, at least for now. I'm sure Seth can come up with some better way for me to tell the whole world I'm gay." "I don't doubt that at all." Ray grinned, placing a gentle kiss on first your forehead, then your nose, and finally on your lips. "Tomorrow, though. You need your beauty sleep." "Ah, yeah, can't risk getting ugly. My boyfriend might not want me anymore." You quipped. "Exactly." He smirked at you, turning out the light and pulling you into his arms.

#🌙. by me #new fandom lads lets go!#i had a migraine earlier and now i cant remember how i tag fics help #ikemen revolution #ikerev #ikerev x reader #ikemen revolution x reader #ikerev x mc #ikemen revolution x mc #ray blackwell #ray blackwell x reader #ray blackwell x mc #☆ ikerev #♥️; ray blackwell

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3pirouette · 4 years ago

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Fic: Domestic Bliss and International Espionage (1/1)

Title: Domestic Bliss and International Espionage By: TriplePirouette/3Pirouette Spoilers: General TFA and AC Disclaimer: They're not mine. Word Count: 8109 Distribution: AO3 Anyone else please ask first :)

Story Summary: For Tumblr’s @superhero-daugthers11 as a pinch hit for the Steggy Secret Santa. Steve and Peggy, back in the US after the war, go undercover as a newlywed couple to find a Hydra scientist hiding in the suburbs.

A/N: This is 100% inspired by several things. 1. One of my all-time favorite X-Files Episodes “Arcadia” 2. The first episode of WandaVision 3. My giftee saying she liked the idea of Steggy married/dating and working together for SHIELD, and 4. Getting another Steggy Bingo Prompt in there… sentence prompt: “Did you really just insult Captain America in front of me?”

Please assume/add in your headcanons for the following: Steve was rescued shortly after the Valkyrie crash and OBVIOUSLY has pursued a romantic relationship with Peggy. Due to this, the events of the Agent Carter series have NOT happened. They’re both working for the SSR, tying up loose ends from the war.

Easiest way to see what I see is to imagine Steve and Peggy in the Petrie’s house from the Dick Van Dyke Show… but if you’re not familiar with that, the house from the first episode of WandaVision will do nicely.

~*~

Steve turned from the suitcase where he was lifting folded shirts out. “Just… consider this a test run.”

Peggy smirked, leaning against the doorjamb of the bedroom. She held out her hand, one of Steve’s socks dangling from her two fingers. “What, for me finding your stinky socks on the bathroom floor? Strike one, Rogers.”

Peggy tossed the sock to him, moving into the small bedroom with its double twin beds. She sat heavily on the side of hers, shaking her head. “If this is anything like moving, I’ll never do it again. I’m exhausted.”

Steve tucked his shirts away in the drawer, turning back to her, balling the sock up in his hand and tossing it into the hamper in the closet. “Most houses don’t have top of the line surveillance equipment we would have to hide in the roses.”

“The neighbors are already peeking out,” Peggy said, kicking her shoes off and sliding them under the edge of the bed with her toe. “I saw some from the back door peeking over while I was finishing in the kitchen. I’m sure we’ll have visitors tomorrow.”

Steve grabbed his empty suitcase from the bed and slipped it in the closet, shutting the door. “I’m surprised we didn’t have any today, what with all the commotion of moving in.”

Peggy shrugged, bouncing back to lie on the bed. “In my experience, deep cover Hydra scientists trying to hide out in suburban communities don’t just knock on your door and announce themselves.”

Steve chuckled, moving over to sit on the side of her bed at her hip. He gently took her left hand, running his thumb over the fake wedding band she wore. Peggy smiled up at him. “You know, Angie told me you’d asked her about my ring size.” Steve’s eyebrows rose to his hairline, and she could see his mind trying to scramble to salvage the surprise. “Oh, I know it’s coming, Steve. Don’t try to pretend it isn’t.”

He smiled softly. “I was hoping to surprise you is all.”

“You will,” she whispered, shifting to hold his hand tight. “When, where, how… I’ll try to avoid using my super spy powers on you to divine those things.” She reached her other hand to slide up his arm. “I’m an inpatient woman, so don’t make me wait too long.”

Steve smiled wolfishly at her, leaning over and putting his weight on his left hand, trapping her under him. “I mean, this counts, right?” He leaned down, letting Peggy traverse the last few centimeters to bring their lips together, kissing her sweetly. “This counts as being married?”

She chuckled as she kissed him, reaching one arm up to twine in the short hairs at the nape of his neck. “Absolutely does not.”

He pulled back a bit, teasing. “I mean, I am sleeping right over there…”

“In your own bed,” Peggy pushed them up to sitting, wrapping both arms around his shoulders.

“And it would be so easy to just push them together.”

She shook her head, teasing, despite the fact that the idea seemed like a good one to her. “Scandalous.”

Steve kissed her gently again. “Well, I suppose I should at least pretend to let you get a good night’s sleep?”

Peggy nodded, smiling. “We’ve got a bit of work ahead of us, I think. Very few men trying to hide from prosecution for war crimes make themselves known.”

“Good night then,” he kissed her softly and pushed away from her, “Mrs. Harper.”

Peggy tipped her head with a sultry smile. “Mr. Harper.”

~*~

Peggy moved the eggs around the pan, eyes tight on them as Steve walked into the kitchen the next morning. “Don’t distract me,” she mumbled. “The second I look away they burn.”

He watched her for a moment as she gently stirred the scrambled eggs, eyes intent as he’d ever seen them. “Stove burning too hot?”

“Simply out of practice, I’m afraid. Already ruined four eggs this way.” She pulled the pan off the heat and separated the eggs on to two plates. “Anything I’ve eaten for the last few years has come from a mess, out of a can, or from the automat.” She set the empty pan down and snapped off the heat. “Why you ever married me I’ll never know.”

He moved over, taking both plates and kissing her on the cheek. “Why, I like it so much, I might do it twice.”

Peggy chuckled, moving the pan to the sink and running water in it. “Easy there, soldier. We haven’t made it through this mission yet.” She peeked over at his silence, then turned around all the way, meeting his intent stare. “It’s the apron, isn’t it? I’ve gone too far?”

Steve watched, hands still full of plates, as she spun in her dress, looking for something out of place while her perfect curls bounced around her face like something out of a beauty magazine. He smiled, “No, no- I just…” he cleared his throat, moving to set the plates on the small table in the kitchen. He took a gentle deep breath and moved over to her. “It’s all a little… too perfect, you know? Not quite us, I think, but like something out of a movie.”

Peggy bit her lip, stepping closer to him so he could wrap her in his arms. “This whole thing is a bit spot on.” She played with the edge of his cardigan, the blue doing amazing things for his eyes. “But needs must when trying to build a trap.”

He moved his hand to trace over her chin, feeling content and happy despite the threat. “Will you cook me eggs after this is all over?”

Peggy would her arms around his neck, humming happily. “If you’re a good boy.” After a moment, she pushed back, centering herself. “Though you haven’t eaten them, yet, so you are taking a large chance there, darling.” She pushed him towards the table and followed shortly, two mugs of coffee in her hands.

“Peg—”

“Betty,” she demanded, stopping and looking at him. “I agree that this little fantasy is a bit of a slippery slope for the both of us, but we really must start doing better.” She sat and slid his coffee to him, looking him in eyes pointedly. “Roger.”

Steve nodded, taking the coffee. “Right. Betty,” he paused, the name not rolling off his tongue easily, “I can help with the cooking.”

“And risk someone seeing?” She picked up her fork, face stern. “From this moment on, no matter what, we’re happy newlyweds Roger and Betty Harper. I’m a stay-at-home wife who loves to knit and worked in a bullet factory during the war, you’re a veteran and you do figures at an accounting firm in the city. Perfect little wife, doting husband. Suburban life to a ridiculous, stereotypical T, got it?”

He held out his hand and she took it, looking at her plate rather than at him. “Hey,” he waited until she lifted her eyes. “I was just enjoying it too much. I know our cover. I’m in this one hundred percent, okay?”

Peggy held his hand and squeezed lightly, the smile returning to her face. “Yes, dear.”

~*~

By mid-morning they’d had five of the neighboring wives stop in to introduce themselves. Most were kind, young, gregarious and a bit overly excited to get to know them once Steve showed his face.

“You should stay in the kitchen when the next one comes over,” Peggy complained, sitting heavily on their small couch. “I can’t stand another wide-eyed housewife dazzled by your smile.”

Steve laughed, sitting next to her. “There’s only one housewife I want dazzled by my smile.”

Peggy collapsed into his lap, looking up at him. “She’s a little too tired to be dazzled right now. Somehow social pleasantries are more exhausting than the battlefield.” She closed her eyes, letting Steve’s fingers running through her hair lull her into a sense of calm. “Anything on any of the cameras?”

“No,” Steve didn’t slow his movements as his hand combed through her hair. He’d spent his morning when he wasn’t meeting neighbors “working,” keeping an eye on all of the cameras and equipment they’d set up. “So far just people mowing their lawns and taking walks.” She could feel his chuckle. “Not that I expected to see anyone building a bomb in their back yard…”

She reached up a hand, gently hitting him in the chest. “Don’t be flippant about it. Some people are quite stupid.”

The doorbell rang again and Peggy hoisted herself from Steve’s embrace, straightening her dress and forcing a smile on her face. “You look perfect,” Steve reassured.

She huffed, her eyebrows bouncing high on her forehead as she moved to the front door. “Hello?” She asked, her tone changing as she pulled the door open.

Standing across from her was a young woman, similar in age to Peggy, with sharp features and immaculately styled blonde hair. “Oh, hi! I hope I’m not interrupting?” Her Midwest accent was sharp, just a little too bubbly as she held out the dish she was holding. “I just wanted to welcome you to the neighborhood.”

Peggy swept back, opening her arm. “Please come in. I’m Betty and this is my husband, Roger.”

“Dottie Underwood,” she said quickly, smiling back and forth between the both of them. “I brought you some cookies, I baked them fresh last night, and if I leave them around the house I’m afraid my father just eats them all.”

Peggy carefully took the dish, smiling as she set it down. “They look wonderful, thank you.”

Dottie’s eyes swept around the house, somewhat more intent than a simple curious glance. “You’re quite welcome. How are you settling?”

Steve stood tall, smiling brightly as he moved next to Peggy, gently laying his hand on her back. “Well enough, people have been very kind. I think we’ve met most of the neighborhood by now, haven’t we, honey?”

Peggy giggled, leaning into his side and watching how Dottie tried to keep her smile straight. “Oh, at least the whole street, I’m sure.”

“That’s wonderful.” Dottie smiled brightly. “I was hoping maybe you’d come over for dinner tonight? I live with my father and I’m afraid he doesn’t go out much anymore, but he does enjoy meeting everyone.”

Steve and Peggy shared a short look. To the average person it seemed just a husband and wife consulting one another, to the trained eye, the conversation that happened was much more in-depth and quick. “Well,” Steve replied quickly, “I think we’d be delighted.”

“Oh, that’s just wonderful,” Dottie replied, her smile growing wider, eyes sparkling as she moved toward the door. “I’ll go tell father, he’ll be so pleased.”

Dottie smiled at them, the three standing quietly until Steve nudged Peggy I the back. “Oh, yes, is there anything we can bring?” Peggy asked, trying to hide her forgetfulness with a fluster.

Dottie laughed lightly, moving towards the door. “Just yourselves. Six o’clock, sharp.” She stopped, hand on the knob. “We’re the little blue house, 1013, just on the other side of the street.”

Once she was out, Peggy scooted to the window, watching as Dottie meandered down the driveway and sidewalk, eyes never leaving her until she disappeared into her own home. “Did she strike you as…”

“Trying to hard?” Steve supplied, looking over her shoulder. “Suspicious?”

Peggy turned, looking at him, the agent emerging from the housewife. “Do we have a camera on their house?”

Steve smiled. “Rosebush 3.”

~*~

“What do you mean you invited them over?” Fennhoff bellowed, slamming his fist on the small kitchen table. “What about in hiding do you not understand?”

Dottie rolled her eyes at him, sitting across the table. “Sometimes the best place to hide is out in the open, Papa.” The title dripped from her lips, sarcastic and biting. She pulled the notebook he was scribbling in away, forcing him to look at her. “If we want to fit in, we need to get to know these people, make them want to help and protect the old man and his daughter.”

He grabbed the notebook back. “We should stay inside.”

“You can’t build a new identity by staying inside you helpless oaf.” Dottie stood, pushing away from the table and letting the legs of the chair scrape along the floor. She rounded the small table, leaning over the scientist’s shoulder, eyes dark. “My job is to protect you until Hydra builds itself back up and is ready for you to come back. You trust me, or you get caught. Your call.”

He pursed his lips tight, unhappy. “We should be at their home, going through their things.”

Dottie made a noise in the back of her throat as she rolled her eyes and moved away. “Like I haven’t thought of that.” She moved away, leaning on the kitchen counter. “I’ve already told them you’re unwell. At some point we’ll make your excuses and you can go see what you can find.”

His eyes narrowed dangerously. “I am not the one who is a spy, you are.”

Dottie smiled like a snake, her teeth sharp and gleaming in the light. “You’re whatever I tell you you are until this whole thing is over.”

~*~

Steve looked at the young man across the dinner table, knowing he was lying. As hard as he’d tried to get in the Army, there had been more people trying just as hard, if not harder, to get out of it. “4F you say?”

“Yeah,” Dan from across the street cleared his throat. “Asthma. Wouldn’t let me enlist over a little thing like that.”

Dinner was a strained affair. Steve and Peggy saw upon their arrival that they hadn’t been the only people invited. Dottie has also invited her neighbors, Dan and Laura Smythe, to try to help them get to know people. Though they tried to keep the conversation moving, it was stilted and uncomfortable. Dottie, all smiles, kept trying to shift topics of conversation while her father sat grumpily at the head of the table.

“Beastly affair, that war.” Dottie’s feigned sadness was easy to see through. “It’s how I lost my Earnie.”

Laura wasn’t quite as sharp as Peggy and fell for the faux sadness, letting her hand rest on the woman’s arm. “Your beau?”

“We were engaged,” Dottie continued, sniffling dramatically. “He was a pilot with the 107th, got shot down over enemy territory.”

Steve and Peggy shared a look. There hadn’t been any pilots in the 107th, definitely none named Earnie. A quick glance at the older Underwood revealed nothing. He had no feelings about the loss of the man who supposedly was going to marry his daughter, which struck them both as odd.

Laura, however, was eating it up. “Was he one of the soldier’s that Captain America saved in that amazing rescue? Didn’t he save nearly that whole battalion?”

Dottie shook her head. “No, he was lost just before that, I’m afraid.”

“Well, that didn’t happen, anyway.” Steve said with a bold confidence that made every face turn and look at him.

Peggy’s jaw tightened as she turned to him, putting a hand to his arm. “Darling.”

“No, you know how I feel about this, Betty.” Steve turned and patted her hand, every inch the dismissive husband. “I was out there, fighting for my life, fighting to get back to you, and they parade this guy around in tights on newsreels?”

“Laura and I saw him at one of those USO shows,” Dan started, causing Peggy to squeeze Steve’s arm in concern that their ruse was about to fall apart, “I swear I saw wires. Guy was an actor and a hack.”

“Right?” Steve threw up his hand, nodding appreciatively at the man. “No way he was that strong.”

Laura giggled a bit, leaning towards Dottie. “He was quite handsome, though, don’t you think?”

Dottie, hoping to defuse some of the tension she could feel radiating around the table, just laughed along. “Oh yes, very handsome.” Dottie turned her smile across the table. “Did you ever get to see him, Betty?”

Peggy folded her hands under the table. “Oh, a few times.” She snuck a look at Steve then leaned forward, whispering towards the women though she knew full well everyone could hear her. “Those tights were quite the uniform!”

The women giggled, Dan pressed his lips into a tight line, and Steve had to bite his tongue to keep a straight face. The elder Underwood, for his part, was growing more and more upset.

“That man won them the war,” the elder Underwood grumbled.

“Impossible.” Steve turned to him, almost enjoying the part he was playing. “Hollywood smoke and mirrors. I was out there and I never saw him or that shield. Not once.”

Underwood pushed himself away from the table, his face growing red. “Did you really just insult Captain America in front of me?” He stood, leaning over Peggy and Steve with enough menace that Steve put his arm across Peggy, ready to move her behind him if the man became any more aggressive. “You come into my house and you say these things?”

Steve had been having fun with their plan to insult his alter ego, see if their hosts were sympathetic, showed any leanings to the Axis powers, but this hit home. He knew people had idolized him, and as much as that had made him uncomfortable, he understood how important it was to have a symbol of hope in such a bleak time.

Before Steve could reply and apologize the man stormed off. Dottie stood, stuttering an apology, and followed him into the house.

“Well, I for one am with you,” Dan said, raising his fork and diving back into his dinner. “Man was a fraud.”

Peggy grabbed Steve’s hand under the table and squeezed.

~*~

“What was that back there?” Dottie demanded in a hushed voice once she’d closed the door to Fennhoff’s room behind them.

“Distraction,” he said sharply, his accent becoming more pronounced. “You want distraction, you get distraction.”

Dottie huffed, crossing her arms. “And what am I supposed to tell them now?”

“That your father is a great patriot. That he needs his rest. You say whatever you say while I go pretend to be spy.” Fennhoff waved her away and opened the window in his room, grumbling about how he was supposed to slip out. “Lock the door.”

~*~

Steve stood as Dottie joined them back at the table. “I should go apologize.”

“No, no,” Dottie shooed him back to his seat. “My father gets grumpy sometimes. He just needed to take his pills and lay down for a spell.” She sat herself back down and laid her napkin on her lap with deliberate flair. “It’ll all be forgotten after a quick nap, I promise.”

“Still, I’d feel better if I could,” Steve reluctantly sat, rearranging his own napkin.

“I’m sure he’ll be back out in a bit.” She smiled widely, a motion that did not reach her eyes. “He just never misses dessert!”

~*~

Anyone fluent in Russian would have been scandalized at the string of words coming from Fennhoff’s lips as he snuck into the back of the Harper home.

“Don’t even lock their doors,” Fennhoff mumbled as he slipped in their back door. He moved carefully through the dark kitchen, futilely opening and closing cabinets. He did not expect to find anything in the home of that vapid man who didn’t believe Captain America was real.

He’d seen the damage that man could do with his own eyes. Anyone who believed Captain America hadn’t won the war for the Allied forces was either dimwitted, a fool, or both.

He tried to stay quiet as he moved through the house, but there wasn’t much light and even less to see that was interesting. The house was only sparsely decorated with few, if any, places to hide things. He made his rounds quickly, opening and closing closets and doors and saw nothing that would make him think these people were anything other than what they said they were: boring American suburbanites.

He stopped on his way out and opened the small broom closet he’d neglected on the way in, sighing when there was nothing more than a broom, mop, and bucket there.

“Dumb woman spy,” he mumbled, letting himself out quietly.

~*~

“Next time we’ll have you over,” Peggy said, holding both of Dottie’s hands at the door. “Dinner was simply marvelous.”

“Oh, shucks,” Dottie took one hand to bat the compliment away. “It was so lovely to get to know you and welcome you to the neighborhood.”

The corner of Steve’s mouth crooked up sadly. “Please give my apologies to your father.”

“No need,” she reached out, stroking Steve’s shoulder in a motion that was just slightly more than neighborly. “He’s a stubborn old man and you are a great war hero, Mr. Harper. You’re allowed a difference of opinion, especially since you were there.”

“All the same,” Steve stepped back out of her reach, taking Peggy’s hand and moving away. He felt like if he didn’t escape, they’d be exchanging pleasantries all night. “Have a great night.”

“You too!” Dottie called, watching from the door as they turned.

Steve pressed his hand to Peggy’s back, pushing her down the pavement just a little faster. “She’s still watching,” he mumbled. “Gosh, such lovely neighbors around here, don’t you think, honey?” he let his voice drift louder.

“Absolutely, darling. I’m so excited to get to know them all. Maybe join the Women’s Auxiliary.” Peggy leaned closer to Steve, her voice lower now, “Is she still watching? My face hurts from smiling.”

“Few more feet, dear,” he whispered. He leaned down, “I think Dan and Laura are out there now,” he pointed to his ear, signaling he could hear them talking, “Want to give them a show?”

Peggy raised her eyebrow, the false suburban smile she’d been sporting morphing into a smirk he was much more used to seeing on her face. “Show?”

He led her up the steps, stopping to dig the keys out of his pocket. Once he did, he reached out and unlocked the door, pushing it open. Before she could step in, he swept her off her feet, carrying her like she was a brand-new bride. Peggy squeaked, grabbing on to his shoulders more out of surprise than fear that he would drop her on the front porch.

She laughed. “This is what you had in mind?”

He leaned forward, kissing her gently. “Gotta sell that newlywed cover,” he whispered against her lips. “They watching?”

Peggy shifted her head as he turned them a bit, his lips on hers again. Peggy squinted, making it look like her eyes were closed. She didn’t normally like to do double duty while Steve was kissing her, but he managed to avoid distracting her too badly. She could see the Smythe’s and Dottie on the porch, eyes glues to them. From the window, the elder Underwood peaked out. Peggy dragged her lips away. “All watching. And slightly scandalized.”

“They’ll be very scandalized in a minute,” he mumbled, kissing down her neck.

Peggy hit him playfully in the shoulder. “Barbarian!” She laughed as he growled in her ear. “Inside at once!” She kicked a bit as he straightened up, laughing as he bounced her in his arms. Steve made a show of almost losing his balance and nearly dropping her as he stepped over the threshold for their audience. For good measure he kicked the door closed, wishing he could see all of their faces.

He’d absolutely go back and check the surveillance tapes just to see what they looked like.

He turned, putting Peggy down and pressing her up against the door, letting his lips meet hers again. “That was fun.”

She hummed happily, but pushed him away. “Quite, but we still have work to do.” She moved past him, then stopped as she flipped on the light. She held out her hand, then pointed. “And you made fun of me for vacuuming us out before we left.”

“You were wearing pearls and an evening dress.” Steve pointed out, bending low to look at the fresh footprints that showed against the new, freshly cleaned nap of the carpet. “What do you think?”

“Man’s shoe, fairly large.” Peggy moved around, following the path. “Came from the kitchen, so… in through the back door.”

“Looks like he took a peek in each room,” Steve added, opening the doors and following the trail, “then back through the kitchen to go out.”

“You think they found…” Peggy started, but didn’t finish, following Steve into the kitchen and watching as he opened the closet door.

“Doubt it, everything’s exactly as I left it, including that little bit of flour by the wall.” He smiled up at her, trying to show off the tricks he’d slowly been learning from her since they’d been working together stateside. He warmed at bit at her smile, then moved the mop, broom, and bucket. With a firm push to one side of the back wall, it spun, sweeping the flour on the floor into a wide, tell-tale circle and revealing that the closet was actually three times the size, hiding a small bank of monitors and recording equipment. “Shall we?”

They both slipped in the small space, Steve on the stool he occupied for most of the day while surveilling, Peggy peering over his shoulder as he found the reel trained on their back door and rolled it back. It was fuzzy in the darkness, but the figure creeping through their rosebushes seemed quite familiar. “Is that Underwood?” Peggy asked, waiting for Steve to roll the tape back and forth until they had a fairly clear picture.

“Looks like it,” Steve mumbled, marking down the time and reel for future reference. “What do you think he’s looking for?”

“Same as we are,” Peggy said quietly, slipping from the closet to lean on the door jamb. “If they’re in hiding, they’re looking out for anyone wanting to find them.”

Steve reloaded some of the reels, marking others and setting the film aside to review tomorrow. Peggy watched him work, smiling as he rolled up his sleeves, concentration fully on his task. She leaned on the doorway, slipping off her heels and content to just be for the moment. Steve slipped out of the hidden space, pushing the fake wall back in place and sweeping the flour back into an indistinguishable line along the bottom of the wall.

“Do you think it will be like this?” Peggy mused, watching as he ran a damp cloth along the visible floor of the closet, hiding the existence of the flour even further to sell their ruse.

“Do I think what will be like what?” Steve asked, standing and laying the wet dishcloth over the back of a chair to dry.

Peggy bounced over to him on her toes, hands holding her heels behind her back, hips swaying and swinging her skirt around her in a manner that was much more carefree than Steve had seen her in a long time. “Do you think our marriage will be like this? Domestic bliss and snogging against the front door one minute and international espionage the next?”

Steve tilted his head, his forehead creasing in thought as he wrapped his arms around her. “You know, it probably will. Though I’d like to say we’ll need much less surveillance at our house.”

“Our house…” she mused, smiling widely. “Kind of thrilling, isn’t it?” Peggy wrapped her arms around him with a sly smile, heels still dangling from her fingers.

His brows knit together for just a brief moment, the concern replaced by amusement on his face. “I don’t think life with you will ever be boring, dear.” He leaned down, kissing her gently.

Peggy leaned back, eyes still closed, a smile on her lips. She blinked her eyes open, half lidded and dreamy. “What say you to pushing the beds together tonight, Mr. Harper?”

He kissed her again, nipping at her bottom lip. “Sounds like an excellent idea to me.” Without warning, Steve bent his knees, grabbing behind her thighs and lifting her up.

She wrapped her legs around his hips, a sly smile on her face. “You enjoy showing off like that, don’t you?”

“For you?” His smile lit up his face. “Absolutely.”

Her face went blank, her eyes darting around the room as if people were there that might overhear her. “Small confession.” She leaned close to him, eyes sincere. “If, tomorrow, you woke up and were that 98 pound asthmatic man I first met, I’d love you all the same. But, and I’ll deny this until the day I die to anyone else,” her eyes grew mischievous, “I like it when you show off very much. Please don’t ever stop.”

He laughed, full and hearty, as he started to move toward the bedroom. Peggy bounced her heel off his lower back, trying to turn him like a horse. “Ah! Back, soldier. We’ve got doors to lock!”

Steve laughed, turning back and shifting her to his hip so he could see and secure the house without having to put her down. “Yes, ma’am!”

~*~

“They are not spies,” Fennhoff insisted, pushing past Dottie.

She shook her head, closing the cabinet door with more force than necessary. The kitchen was still in a state from the dinner party and as usual she was left to clean everything up. “I’m telling you, you’re wrong. You just didn’t know where to look.”

The man grumbled and disappeared down the hall, the sound of his bedroom door slamming and locking echoing through the house.

~*~

The morning sun was bright coming through the front room’s picture window. Steve squinted as he stepped up behind Peggy, wrapping one arm around her waist as his other hand wound around her to offer her the cup of tea he held. “A little sunny, isn’t it?”

She hummed in agreement as she took and sipped her tea, her eyes never leaving the street where they were staring intently. “See that tabby?”

He followed her line of sight, things clearer as he got used to the brightness, to the small grey cat bouncing up and down the curb across the street outside of Dottie’s house. “I mean, it’s cute, but I don’t think right now is the best time to get a pet, Betty.” A soft humor infused his voice, knowing that Peggy’s plans were far past pets as she stayed intent on the creature.

“Hum, maybe not. But nevertheless, it’s been in and out of our yard, too, and I’ve noticed it doesn’t have a collar.” She let her free hand run over the arm around her waist. “What’s the range on those bugs Howard gave us?”

“With a direct line of sight, 100 yards.” He shrugged, thinking. “Obscured? Maybe 50. Could be more or less depending on what’s between us and it.” He buried his nose in her hair, inhaling her soft scent before pressing a kiss to the crown of her head. “You have a plan.”

She turned and smiled at him. “I have a plan.”

~*~

It started with a small saucer of milk late that morning. Peggy left it on the front stoop and spent a little while just sitting outside next to it, waving at neighbors and smiling. “You haven’t seen that little grey tabby, have you?” she would ask each passing person, concern all over her face, “I got a glimpse of him this morning and I could have sworn he was limping!”

By the afternoon, Steve was trying very hard to keep a straight face as he helped her “search” for the cat in their yard.

Just before dinner, Peggy palmed the small listening device, a thin disk that was barely the size of a quarter, and headed across the street, making tiny whispering and clicking noises, eyes, wide and sad.

Laura Smythe popped her head out of her kitchen window as Peggy knelt next to the storm drain between their house and Dottie’s. “Betty? Are you ok?”

“Oh, fine, Laura!” She stood and waved, her face tight. “I just could have sworn I saw that little grey stray cat and it was limping. I just want to make sure the poor thing is okay.” She huffed and stood, straightening her skirt. “Have you seen him?”

Laura shook her head. “Not since yesterday.” She smiled at Peggy. “So sweet of you to want to try to help him.”

“Well thanks, I—oh!” Peggy turned, eyes set on Dottie’s front yard. With a fake wobble in her heels, she was more adept in running in them than she’d like everyone to know, she darted towards the azalea bush and stopped short. She smiled back at Laura, “I think I’ve got him!” With a smile that had nothing to do with a cat, Peggy pushed her way into the bush and along the front side of the house. She made some noise, swished the plant a few times, and smiled to herself. It was going perfectly.

Dottie was on her porch before Peggy could even catch her breath from the run over, voice loud. “Goodness, Betty, what are you doing?” She demanded, incensed.

Peggy stood, using the ledge of the window to haul herself up and the exaggerated surprise she feigned to hide how she set the small bug in the corner of the sill and the window. “Oh! Dottie I hope I didn’t startle you!”

Dottie, less neighborly than yesterday, started at her. “You did, Betty. Why are you in my bushes?”

Peggy dropped her head, shaking it sadly. “Oh, I just saw that poor neighborhood cat limping this morning and I’ve been trying to get my hands on him and see if he was ok. I could have sworn I saw him over here!” Peggy looked around herself, as if she was just noticing what a mess she made. “Oh, goodness, what have I done? I just don’t think sometimes!”

Dottie couldn’t hide the suspicion on her face, but stepped down and offered Peggy her hand. “Let me help you out.”

“Oh, I am so sorry! Your beautiful flowers!” Peggy brushed the leaves and petals from her dress and gestured towards the slightly rumpled bush. “I’ll pay for any damages, I am so, so very sorry.”

“No need,” Dottie said coolly, her smile never reaching her eyes. “I never liked that one anyway.”

~*~

Steve was still laughing when she made her way back into the house. She rolled her eyes, but couldn’t deny that it must have looked a sight. “You almost done?” She crossed her arms, trying to hide her smile as she leaned against the counter.

He was still catching his breath as he emerged from his small control center in the broom closet, hand pressed to his chest. “Oh… oh that was priceless.”

She eyed him as he moved closer, leaning his hands on the counter on either side of her and looming with a bright smile on his face. Peggy rested her hand on his shoulders, enjoying the closeness. “Yes, but did it work?”

He nodded, reaching up with one hand and picking leaves and petals from her hair. He picked the last one and held the pink petal up for her to see. “It did. Not the clearest sound, but good enough.” He kissed her quickly, a peck full of pride and happiness. “You’re brilliant.”

“Why, thank you,” she replied happily, lifting up on her toes for another brief kiss before she ducked away under his arm. “Then you’re making dinner. I’m simply exhausted from looking for that cat all day!”

~*~

The chatter from the Underwood residence was tinny and quiet, but there wasn’t much to expect from the small transmitter. It did its job and Steve and Peggy could hear clear enough the woman and her father bickering in half sentences. Anytime they were in the back of the house they were out of range, but the front room and kitchen came in clear enough.

“They know they’re being monitored,” Peggy sighed, pulling off her headphones. Dottie’s tone had been harsh and clipped, and more than once her “father” had stopped short mid-sentence, either because he didn’t want to keep talking or because Dottie wanted him stopped.

Steve pulled off his own headphones and leaned back. He tried to stretch but his arms hit the wall of the small closet. “You’re right. They’re far too close lipped.”

“And the language is not nearly familiar enough to be father and daughter,” Peggy muttered, scooting to the side and leaning back onto Steve’s shoulder. His arm would around her immediately, stroking over her upper arm. “I’m not sold that they’re who we’re looking for, but I know they’re not who they say they are.”

Steve tipped his head into hers, cuddling close for a second. “What do you think? Time to turn in?”

She nodded against him “They’ll still be there tomorrow, I suppose.”

~*~

Peggy snuck out of her bed, tiptoeing as she picked up her robe and slippers, trying to avoid waking Steve in the middle of the night.

“Peg?” he murmured, turning.

She stopped, shifting her load to one hand to push his hair out of his eyes with the other as she bent by his bed. “Can’t sleep. Just getting some water.”

He hummed as her fingers moved over his cheek, catching her hand in his and turning his head to kiss her palm. “Don’t be long. You need to rest.”

She smiled as his eyes fluttered closed, sleep already pulling him back. “I’ll do my best, darling.”

Peggy slipped through the bedroom door, closing it behind her before wrapping herself in the robe and putting the slippers on her feet. There was a chill in the air, enough to make her wrap her arms around herself as she moved through the living room and to the kitchen.

She didn’t bother with the lights, the moonlight through the windows was enough to see by. She’d been lying in bed for hours, her mind running over scenarios of who the mysterious “father” and “daughter” team across the street could really be. She quietly opened the refrigerator, pulling out the orange juice. She filled the first glass she found and slipped the bottle back, sitting at the table in the darkness. She’d been expecting to find a man named Fennhoff masquerading as a widower. They didn’t know much about him, never mind what he looked like, but the presence of Dottie was baffling to her. The woman was suspicious and sharp, and deep inside Peggy thought she was smarter than she let on.

Peggy sipped her juice, not really wanting it but needing something to do with her hands. She thought about slipping back into the little closet, reviewing the tapes for the night, but decided against it. She needed to shut off her mind, quiet it, not rile it up. She needed rest so she could figure out what their next step would be. Steve was good, and getting better every day, but his real expertise was on the battlefield, not as a spy, and he still deferred to her in almost all matters for missions. She needed to be ready with a new plan by the time the alarm clock went off in the morning.

She wasn’t sure how long she was sitting in the dark, letting her mind wander, before she heard it: soft, crunching footsteps in the backyard. She lifted her glass and slowly made her way to behind the counter, crouched low and waiting. She didn’t have much of an advantage, but the juice would at least sting enough to give her the element of surprise.

Peggy steeled herself as she heard the doorknob slowly turn, the person jiggling it gently to confirm the lock was thrown. She slowed her breathing, mind clear and ready for anything as she heard the soft click of lock picks and the tumblers moving in place. The door opened almost silently, a small figure slipping in based on the shadow Peggy could see along the wall.

The person slipped in, looking quietly around the room. Peggy held her breath, waiting as the footsteps got closer, waiting for the person to be just close enough.

Without thought she stood, tossing the juice towards the intruder.

Dottie Underwood screeched as the acidic juice burned her eyes, stumbling back.

Peggy pressed forward, pushing her against the cabinets with both hands. She knew the rattle was loud enough to wake Steve and that he’d be there to back her up any moment. “What are you doing here?”

Dottie, eyes red and blinking furiously, took only a second to choose between lying and the truth. Truth, though, didn’t quite come with words. Instead, she threw her head forward, connecting her forehead with Peggy’s with a sickening crack. Peggy stumbled back, but had the advantage of knowing exactly where everything was in the kitchen. She didn’t need to look to get the pan from the stove, sitting and waiting for breakfast to be cooked up in a few hours, and swing it around.

Dottie threw a hand up just in time to keep the pan from connecting with her skull, and grabbed Peggy’s arm with her free one, grappling and forcing her to drop the pan with a clatter.

“Who are you?” Peggy ground out between her teeth, grabbing a fistful of hair and using that to hold Dottie in her frame of vision.

Dottie countered with a leg sweep, sending Peggy toppling over and off her feet. Peggy didn’t let go, though, and Dottie went down with her, landing them both between the island and the counter. “Just a concerned neighbor,” Dottie managed to huff out, pushing with her legs to try to get the upper hand and roll on top of Peggy. “Thought I saw a robber.”

“How kind,” Peggy grunted, managing to get her hand on a corner of the cabinet and use the leverage to get a leg out so she could knee the woman in the chest. Dottie lost her breath, leaving room for Peggy to pounce once again as she stumbled to stand and move away from her. Peggy started to move towards her again just as Steve rushed through the door of the kitchen, eyes wide and in nothing more than his pajama pants.

Steve’s arrival somewhat stymied Dottie. She paused, still trying to catch her breath, with Peggy huffing beside her. Steve looked between the two women and Peggy stared at him, disbelief in her eyes. “Her, please!”

Steve snatched Dottie around the waist and lifted her off her feet, keeping his head away from her flailing arms as she struggled. Peggy pulled the tie from her robe, using it to secure her hands behind her back once Steve had set her in one of the kitchen chairs.

“Still plan on sticking to your story,” Peggy huffed, sitting across from her as Steve stood guard, “or are you going to tell us what we need to know?”

Dottie smiled like a shark, her red, tearing eyes fighting the visual she wanted to present. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Peggy and Steve shared a look, and without a word he slipped out of the kitchen, headed back to the bedroom.

Dottie watched as he returned only moments later with a shirt and shoes to go with the pants, and a very brightly painted shield on his arm. He stepped in the kitchen and handed Peggy her gun before he disappeared out the front door.

Dottie winced; her eyes painful. “Betty, is it? Are you two even married?”

“Does it matter?” Peggy asked pragmatically, rounding the woman and checking her bindings. “I think what matters here is that you’re hiding something and I’d very much like to know what it is.”

“Do you have twin beds? Or just one big bed?” Dottie asked dreamily. “If I could have that in my bed…” she hummed, the salacious tone somewhat ineffective when combined with her sniffles.

“Are you here on behalf of Hydra?” Peggy asked, picking up a towel and mopping the orange juice from the floor.

Dottie continued rambling. “I mean, that’s one hundred percent American beefcake right there. USDA Prime. And strong.” She sighed happily. “When he picked me up… mmm mmm mmm.”

Peggy rolled her eyes behind the woman, picking the pan from the floor. “What about that man you’re with?”

“Oh, he’s about to have his day ruined.” Dottie laughed manically. “You see, when that Greek God of a man of yours riled him up about Captain America, he wasn’t lying. He gets riled up. Mostly because he hates him so much.” She laughed again. “When he wakes up and sees that shield over him… oh, he might just have a heart attack.”

Peggy checked the robe tie as she passed again, knowing it was hardly enough to secure someone who knew what they were doing before she opened the broom closet and pushed out the fake wall. “Last chance to give me anything before I throw you to the wolves.”

Dottie just sat, head held high, eyes still watering.

“Have it your way.” Peggy reached in and pulled out a beacon, tapping it twice. “The cavalry will be here shortly.”

~*~

Steve didn’t exactly feel fantastic about waking the old man up, but when he started cursing in Russian at him and pulled a gun from under his pillow, Steve reassessed his position.

He still felt bad when he had to knock him out though.

~*~

Peggy stood at the doorway, watching the rest of the SSR team pack the surveillance equipment away and hurry the rented furniture back in the truck as the forensics team was going over Dottie’s house. Dottie was safely in custody and Peggy would be interrogating her tomorrow at the SSR when everything was back to normal. It had been only four days since they moved in, but Peggy could admit, at least to herself, that she’d enjoyed playing house.

Steve came up behind her, his hands still at his sides rather than at her hips. They’d set clear ground rules when it came to the office and the SSR, and that meant no touching in front of co-workers. The absence of his hands when he was so close was causing the hairs on her arms to stand at attention. “What do you think about suburbia?” she questioned lightly, though it weighed heavily on her mind.

“Well, when there aren’t sleeper Hydra Agents hiding in it, it seems pleasant enough to me.” He shrugged, leaning on the doorjamb to look at her. “I grew up in the city, but I’m not attached to that as some idyllic idea of what life should be. Might be nice to have a little garden, some grass to cut, a front yard to build a snowman in and rake leaves…”

Peggy jutted her chin out the to Smythe house, where, like everyone else on the street, Dan and Laura were looking out the window, trying to get every bit of gossip they could. “Neighbors being neighborly.”

Steve dropped his voice. “I think we’d do well in someplace like this.”

Peggy smiled up at him before turning back to the men in the yard. “Agreed.”

“It should be bigger, though, to make room for the kids.” He nudged her with his elbow, a smile threatening to break out on his face. “Four, at least.”

Peggy raised her eyebrows at him. “Two.”

“Only two?” He asked, partially teasing and partially actually let down.

Peggy turned so the men in the yard couldn’t see or hear what she was saying. “Will you be popping them out then? Because until you are, I think the person actually carrying the children should have her opinion weighed slightly more.”

He nodded, eyebrows together tightly. “Point taken.”

She stepped closer, nudging him with her shoulder. “Perhaps we start with one, and see how we do, hum?” She pushed past him, the bump intentional and flirty. “Besides, I’m still waiting on that ring.”

Steve smiled out at the front yard, shoving his hands in his pockets. Good thing the ring was sitting back in his apartment in the top drawer of his dresser. Seeing as this little test run had gone well, maybe he’d pop the question sooner rather than later.

Domestic bliss and international espionage… Steve couldn’t think of anything he’d like more.

#steggy secret santa #Steggy Bingo Bash #superhero-daugthers11 #Steggy Fic #3P's Fic

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anemonenemerosa · 4 years ago

Text

The Spare- Chapter 9

Hello fellow people,

here’s the next one. Thank you for staying with me and thank you @lumosinlove for creating this world =)

This is still dark so please stay safe.

Chapter 9

Reality returned with a bolt of pain in Regulus' leg and a clatter in front of him. Some guy who looked like a maintenance-man stumbled over the mop he just dropped while hurrying over, turning off the shower and kneeling down beside him in the puddle of water, soap and blood. Regulus heard the man speaking but the sounds didn't connect to words in his brain.

He was still sobbing violently as he watched the shard being carefully pulled from his leg and replaced by a cloth that got pressed on the cut.

Eyes wide, Regulus just stared at the man in front of him. He was pale and slender, much more delicate than himself, probably in his mid-twenties. A lot of light brown hair was piled in a messy bun with a severe side cut on his left and there were tattoos. Lots of them covering on both of his arms from his wrists to the sleeves of his worn-out sweater, bunched up to the elbows.

Je jerked as he felt a soft tap on his cheek and looked the man in the face for the first time: His nose was straight with a ring in the right side and he is gnawing on his thin lips. The look in his green-hazel eyes lacked the calculation, malice and sneer Regulus was used to. There was just concern. Concern about Regulus, having a complete meltdown in the shower.

As Hays, it said on the tag on his chest, carefully wrapped his arms around him, mumbling soothing nonsense and just holding him like no one held him in years, he dissolved in another fit of sobs. And Regulus hated it. He hated that his, normally strong, control of his emotions failed him completely in front of this stranger. Embarrassment burned in his cheeks while he couldn't stop sobbing and crying into the other man’s shoulder.

After minutes, hours or years -who knows- his sobs faded into ragged breathing and Hayes tried to disentangle himself from the death-grip around the other one´s chest. Regulus did not even remember putting his arms there. He was still deeply embarrassed but also unable to let go of this source of warmth and comfort, so he only grabbed him tighter, forcing a huff out of Hayes lungs.

"Don't worry, I'm not going anywhere, just let me have another look at your leg"

Regulus started crying again, hearing only what he supposed was genuine concern and kindness in the other man´s voice. Slowly, he lightened his grip.

"Hi Regulus, I'm Ben", Hayes said while carefully lifting the cloth to inspect the wound. The bleeding mostly stopped and the cut looked rather nasty. Brilliant. His sacrasm resurfacing, Regulus felt better already but his eyes narrowed immediately as he realised that Hayes knew his name.

He opened his mouth.

"You are an NHL-player, mate. There is a gargantuan poster of you with your name on it in the entrance-hall I just happen to clean every other day." Hayes -Ben- supplied dryly before Regulus had worked anything out of his sore throat.

"As this does not seem to be a regular hobby of yours, I will not ask if you alright because you are clearly not" Regulus snorted at the deadpan expression and tone.

"I should get you to the hospital. Someone should have a look at this." Ben continued, nodding at Regulus' still slightly bleeding leg.

Hell, no! Horror surged through Regulus and tied a firm knot in his stomach as he frantically shook his head. His parents mustn't find out how weak he was.

Ben eyed him thoughtfully while gnawing on his lip, got up to retrieve his phone from his pocket and Regulus felt his eyes widen in panic.

Merde! He's going to take a picture...that's it. I'm done for.

But Ben just pressed a reassuring hand to his shoulder as he dialled a number and put the phone to his ear. Regulus was silently freaking out and dreading the consequences of his emotional outburst but after a calm conversation to someone in, what Regulus thought might be Spanish, Ben tied the cloth on Regulus leg and gently pulled him to his feet.

Oh sainte, he is so tiny. Regulus could easily look over the other man’s head.

"You think you can manage to dry-off a bit and put some clothes on while I clean up the blood?"

Regulus stared.

Only then he realised that he was stark naked and that he was just as naked as he held this stranger in a death-grip... While crying on his shoulder... Sitting in a shower... Wouldn't it be for the new wave of embarrassment burning through his guts, Regulus would marvel at the hilarity of the situation. Instead, he silently nodded and limped to his stall.

He felt dizzy, his head bursting and empty at the same time. Even simple coherent thoughts seemed to slip from his grasp. He was tired and a numb version of sadness settled in his stomach. Head pounding and feeling sick, Regulus had neither energy nor capacity to think what to do about it all. He just sat there.

Ben joined him some undefined amount of time later, sat down beside him and, again, put a hand on his shoulder. Regulus couldn't help the flinch in automatic expectation of punishment. As no such thing followed, he relaxed a bit.

"If you want, I can drive you home." Ben offers and Regulus vaguely realises that he has no such place and he tells Ben so.

"Earlier on the phone, I talked to my boyfriend. Mateo is an EMP." Ben explained calmly after a moment of silence. Regulus notices Ben speaking so casually about having a boyfriend is very unlike everything he has ever known but has no energy to mull that over.

"He wants you to get your leg checked. His shift ends in about an hour and he wants you to remember that, if you come over, he is not allowed to tell anyone why you are in the hospital. You are over eighteen so even your parents have no right to know what happens there."

Regulus stared at him warily, only just comprehending what the other man talked about. Someone had replaced his with cotton wool.

"If you want, we can manage to get you into an examination room through the backdoor, so you do not have to sit in the waiting area, being recognised and stared at."

He looks into the open and friendly eyes of Ben, the encouraging smile on his face, and just nods. It was probably about eleven in the evening by now and he was sure that the Malfoys were too busy celebrating the harm he caused his brother to even realise he’s not there. They barely did on normal days. Ever since moving there, Regulus made it a habit of remaining silent and invisible in the house.

oOo

They arrived at some dodgy delivery entrance. While Ben guided him quietly through the Kitchen or something, the wheels Regulus brain slowly began to turn again.

Why did I step into the car with that guy? Shouldn’t I have learned by now, that trusting people is a horrible idea? Where the actual hell are we even going?

But whatever Regulus anticipated, he did not expect to just be sat in an examination room to fill out some forms in peace and wait for an endless amount of time until a man entered the room.

Dr. M. Alves it said on his tag and Regulus vaguely suspected that this must be Mateo. The fog in his brain had started to properly clear up a while ago and he assumed that he could think clear again.

The man in front of him seemed a few years older than Ben and smiled professionally but there was also a genuine warmth in his dark brown eyes and wide face as Regulus stands up to shake his hand. While generally broader than Ben, the man was even shorter, his black, slightly shaggy hair only reaching up to Regulus' upper lip. All these tiny people...

oOo

"Regulus, you are just the tiniest little baby brother!"

"Sirius, get a grip. I'm eighteen and actually 6'2." Regulus huffed exasperatedly. Sirius was six years older. How was Regulus the mature one?

"But I am bigger." Sirius sing-songed.

"It is just an inch!" - "Still."

Regulus felt a fresh pang of guilt at the memory of what seemed the last of the very few careless conversations they had after his brother was drafted, shortly before his own draft.

oOo

"Regulus," Dr. Alves said, the warmth not leaving his eyes. The artificial light made is dark tanned skin look a bit queasy and accentuated the bags under his eyes.

"Ben called me and explained to me how he found you" Regulus grimaced at the memory. Dr. Alves seemed to notice and continued gentler, if that was even possible

"First, I want to check your leg and then we see how to proceed from there, OK?" Regulus just nodded and pulled down his sweatpants before he sat down on the examination table, realising that he forgot his underwear in the locker room.

Alves did not bat an eye. His, now gloved, hands carefully removed the blood-stained cloth and softly prodded the cut, eliciting painful twitches from Regulus' leg.

"The cut was caused by a glass shard?" The doctor asked and continued after a curt nod from Regulus.

"I need to make sure there is no glass left." He mentioned for Regulus to get up and ushered him into a second room. Luckily, he checked the cut for glass with an ultrasonic device, as two little chips were still in the wound and needed to be fumbled out with a pair terrifyingly long tweezers. Splendid.

Back in the examination-room, Alves began tapping his nose with his finger while staring blindly at Regulus leg. He looked up into Regulus' face and seemed to recognise the insecurity there as he smiled again his warm smile.

"You play hockey, so we need to think of the best method to close the cut", he explained. "Regular stitches might pull to much during strain but glue will most likely come loose with too much movement." He looked up again, expectantly, but as Regulus had no idea what the doctor wanted to hear he just shrugged noncommittingly.

"I think the best option are butterfly-stitches that you can replace by yourself when they come loose." After tending the cut and showing Regulus how to correctly disinfect the area and replace the stitches, he sat down across from him.

"Now," he began carefully, "it is time to tell me what happened." As Regulus' face shut-off instantly, he continued "I am not allowed to tell any soul about what you tell me in here."

Regulus only looked at his feet, not sure what to do with the second person this night to seem to care for his wellbeing. Not to get him back on ice quicker, not to gain useful information... only for the sake of him feeling better. But could he really trust him? He trusted other people before. People he thought he knew. And look how well that worked.

But this guy was not allowed to talk and breaking medical confidentiality would have very bad consequences for him. Unlike Slughorn, no one would protect him. So maybe, just maybe he could risk it. Also, there was no one here... not his cousins, not his parents. That was what he had hoped for since Thanksgiving. He was sitting in front of an uninvolved human being offering to help.

And for the second time this night, his eyes welled up. For the second time this night, he was embarrassed for his feelings. For the second time this night, he hated his lack of control. For the second time this night, he cried into the shoulder of a stranger, overwhelmed by the thought that this is how care feels, how his family was supposed to treat him.

For the first time in his life, he spilled out all his carefully guarded feelings. And spilling, he did. Once he started, everything came out in a flood. He talked about his brother, his abuse and loneliness. The expectations of his parents and the shame he felt for how he treated his brother in his pathetic attempts to escape Sirius' success pressing down on him. He talked about his wish to please his parents, the abandonment and loneliness he felt himself, the envy and desperate longing for support and affection and his feelings of being undeserving.

Before he came to the part of how he accidentally outed his brother, he could stop himself. Mateo was a queer, too and might take this rather personally. Regulus could not deal with more people hating him right now.

Although he felt a bit bad for keeping quiet about the incident that had finally sent him off-kilter, he couldn't remember the last time he was so relieved, so at ease.

With the words "My shift ends now so I close up. Ben waits somewhere outside." still in his ear, Regulus stepped outside in the night, breathed the fresh air and had no idea what to do with himself. He checked his phone: No messages, so no one noticed his absence.

This thought elicited both elation and disappointment in him but before he could really think of it, Ben rounded the corner of the building with Dr. Alves in tow, both smiling at him.

"I know that sounds like a weird offer from strangers but if you want, we can take you with us to stay at our couch for the night." Dr. Alves offers still smiling warmly. This smile stared to unsettle Regulus a little. How can anyone be that friendly all the time? Where is the catch?

"No, thank you Dr. Alves." After a second, he added, considering his previous meltdown in the arms the two guys, looking at him expectantly. "That would be inappropriate."

"I am not at work anymore, so its Mateo. I am not than old" Dr. Alves countered cheerfully, completely oblivious to what Regulus had actually just said.

"You are known enough for someone to notice you missing eventually, so you don't have to fear us murdering you and selling your organs." Ben chimed in with a failed attempt of a joke.

How very wrong you are... Regulus thought, considering the lack of messages on his phone.

Now that he's calmed down again, he began to take in just how ridiculous his situation really was. These weirdly empathetic people didn't know him at all but offered him to stay on their couch?

Well admittedly, Mateo probably knew him very well now but Regulus was not in the mood for rational consideration. Who does that? What is the goddamn catch? What did he have, that they want?

Again, they seemed to sense something was going on in his brain. Regulus had always prided himself with his poker face. He could fool anyone. Or, so he thought. Are they like, psychic... or did I lose all my, composure over the night? He couldn't afford to be read like an open book when he got back to his life.

The older men exchanged a look.

"We just try to give you a place to stay for the night as you don't seem too inclined to go to your usual place now." Regulus was impressed by how Dr. Alves -Mateo - avoided the word 'home' after all he heard and, in addition to so much tact, still tried to comfort him well past his shift. That is devotion.

Then, Regulus recognised the looks on their faces for what they were and felt cold again. He found the catch.

"No, thank you. I do not need your pity. Please find someone else to rescue and elate your conscience or what-ever you try to achieve with that."

What happened next was not what Regulus expected. He expected them to look blank, caught maybe or calculating. He did not expect the hurt in both faces, Bens expression quickly turning into anger.

"Now listen up you little shit!" he spat. "What I saw this evening was a desperate and very hurt young man sitting alone in a shower, crying and shoving a shard in his own leg! Of course, I am concerned, of course I try to help you out, it is the decent thing to do."

"Ben –" Mateo tried calmly. "No, Matty, that’s going too far! I know nothing about your upbringing, Regulus and Matty is not allowed to tell me anything but we are trying to help you! Yes, there is pity, and yes, we would both feel better if we knew you stayed at a safe place this night. But do not dare to accuse us of any ulterior motifs or calculation behind that, except giving warmth to someone who seems to desperately need it! So, get a grip, you fucking little menace, get in the car and have soup on our goddamn couch."

Reg could only stare, gaping like an absurd portrayal of a fish. No one except Sirius had ever had talked to him like that.... Plainly insulting him into feeling better. What. The. Fuck.

#the spare #Sweater Weather #lumosinlove sweater weather #regulus black #my oc

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shenanigans-and-imagines · 5 years ago

Text

The Senator and The Chiss

Until We Meet Again: Part 1/?

Thrawn x Senator!Reader, Female Pronouns

Summary: You are a newly appointed Senator of you home planet, trying your best to make it through Ascension week in one piece. Things take a turn for the interesting when you meet a Lieutenant of the Imperial Navy unlike any you have seen before.

Loosely based on an anon request.

A/N: I’m not exactly sure where this is going. I plan this to be a series of one shots revolving around this Senator!Reader. If your interested in reading more about her and Thrawn, feel free to send any request my way! And remember REBLOG AND COMMENT IF YOU LIKE THIS!!!

Word Count: 2.6K

Ascension week was proving to be more exhausting than you had anticipated.

You understood what was expected of you and had mentally prepared to be on your feet for every day of the celebrations. But after only three days, the names and faces were starting to blur together until nothing mattered except going home and finally getting some sleep.

You clung to the sides of the ballroom, enjoying the moment’s peace while you could. You had long forgotten where exactly you were or even the host’s name. A twist of guilt resided in your stomach because of it. With any luck you could remain anonymous for another hour or so, as to not appear rude when you left early. The dress and hairpiece you were wearing, however, were making things difficult.

The wardrobe was ceremonial in nature, meant to mark you as a leader of your people. The dress was perfectly tailored to your figure with vibrant greens interwoven with golden and silver thread sewn together in a striking pattern. An elaborate crown was braided into your hair making it appear as if golden vines resided there blooming with silver flowers. It was a striking sight, meant to represented the life of your homeworld and the pride of your people.

Governor Lir had declared you a vision when you had arrived, assuring you were a testimate to Danu and would be the talk of Courscant.

You had thanked him, but knew his words rung partially false. Even when your aids had finished the final touches, you could feel yourself being buried under the weight of the dress. The metal vines poked and pulled at your scalp. You had almost tripped upon first entering the ballroom. If it weren’t for having Governor Lir’s arm, you would have fallen. It was obvious to any with a pair of eyes, and especially yourself; the dress was wearing you rather than you wearing it.

Perhaps you just needed practice. You had only been Senator of Danu for a handful of months and had just settled into your office on Courscant a few weeks ago. It would take time to adjust. But as you looked over the sea of people in the ballroom, all veteran politicians, military men, and various other powerful figures, it was becoming clear time wasn’t on your side.

You took a sip of your wine. Maybe you could convince Governor Lir you needed to rest. Surely he had introduced you to enough people for the evening.

You spotted him across the room, engaged with a handful of other Outer Rim governors.

It would have to wait. You didn’t want to be accidently sucked into another trade routes discussion, if you could help it.

You continued to walk until you came across a set of heavy curtains. They appeared hastily put up. Peaking out of one of the corners you could just make out the bright colors of some kind of mural. Most likely the host didn’t have time to finish it before the start of Ascension week. Regardless, it was exactly the reprieve you needed. Taking a quick glance to make sure you wouldn’t be seen, you ducked under and out of sight.

You turned to face the wall, not wanting to risk backing into wet paint. But, as your eyes adjusted to the dim light, it was clear such precaution was not necessary.

The mural was old, much older than any of the other paintings and portraits placed around the ballroom. The color was starting to fade, but their vibrancy would not die an easy death.

The entire wall was covered in what could only be an ancient star map. Circles and lines weaved along, connecting worlds and stars and planets together in a delicate dance. Each planet stood bodly on their own while still emphasising the importance of the lines connecting them to the rest.

You took a small step back, craning your neck to try and catch every brush stroke. It was then you noticed fresh paint along the corners. At first you assumed it was restoration, but as you examined closer, the darker, subtler color scheme told you otherwise.

A small sting of pain came to your heart. They were painting over it.

The rustle of fabric interrupted your thoughts. You turned toward the sound, an apology ready on your lips when they froze there in wonder.

A new party had entered your sanctuary, but he was unlike anyone you had ever seen.

He was alien, a rarity you had found at events such as these during your short time on Coruscant, but he didn't belong to any species you could name. His humanoid appearance and blue skin should have pointed clearly toward a Pantoran. But his face lacked the usual golden facial tattoos. More importantly his eyes weren’t the usual black or gold; they were a glowing red.

He stood tall exuding an air of confidence which left you transfixed. At first you thought he might be a general or even a prince. But, his uniform and plaque marked him as a Lieutenant of the Imperial Navy.

It felt wrong, somehow.

You blinked, suddenly realizing how long you had been staring. The only comfort you could find was that he had been staring back.

“I’m sorry,” you said, automatically. “Was this your hiding place?”

You held back a wince at your own words. Why would someone like him need to hide?

To your relief, he did not seem to take offence as his lip curled into a mildly amused expression. “No,” he said, in accented Basic. “I was merely hoping for a chance to admire the artwork. Though, it appears I have stumbled upon your hiding place.”

Your eyes darted down in embarrassment. “It was not my intention for it to be so. I just needed a moment to breathe and well…” You looked back toward the painting, and the same regretful pain tugged at your heart once more.

“I will leave you to it, then,” the alien said. He turned to leave, and a sudden panic took you.

“There’s no need,” you said, quickly. “Please, there is more than enough room for two and you may not have another opportunity.”

He paused a moment. His expression was unreadable as his red eyes gazed directly into yours.

You found yourself holding your breath, not even daring to blink.

Then, slowly, he nodded and took a place by your side.

You stood in silence, each allowing the other to observe the mural in peace.

It was actually rather pleasant. You hadn’t realized how long it had been since you had a comfortable silence with someone.

“What do you know of this painting,” he asked.

His tone was surprisingly soft. If he hadn’t addressed you directly, you would have assumed he was asking himself.

“Not much I’m afraid,” you answered. “Judging by how faded it is and the subject matter, I would guess it was commissioned well before The Clone War.”

“That was my conclusion as well. You have a fondness for that era, I take it.”

You gave a small frown. “What makes you say that?”

“You were facing the mural instead of the entrance,” he said, not bothering to take his gaze from the wall. “For one reason or another, this piece overshadowed your desire to remain hidden.”

Your stomach twisted uncomfortably at the truth of his statement as your cheeks grew warm. “I suppose you’re right. In truth, I have a fondness for any era of peace in our galaxy’s history. The Republic was so for nearly a millennium…” You stopped then, a familiar lump forming in your throat. “Until it wasn’t.”

“And what of the Empire?”

You shrugged, swallowing the lump as best you could. “Too soon to tell.”

He said nothing for a moment. His eyes still remained on the mural, but you knew he had taken your words into serious consideration. To what end, you could only guess.

“What other thoughts do you have on the painting?” he asked.

“How do you mean?”

“What do you see? What do you believe drew you to it in the first place?”

He settled his eyes on your now, with just the same focused attention as he had the wall.

“You me aside from its use as an ideal hiding place,” you asked.

His lip twisted upward slightly. “Yes, aside from that.”

You nodded, and allowed yourself a moment to ponder the question. Your eyes wandered again to the mural, to the shapes and colors and the looming ridged strokes along the edges.

“I think it has more to do with the contrast of what is to come,” you said, thoughtfully. “A riot of color rebelling against the darkness.”

You turned your eye to his. They seemed to burn in the dim light. For a moment, you thought you might burn yourself. You looked away, suddenly feeling very small and childish in your explanation.

“But, I am no expert.”

“Perhaps not,” he conceded. “But your answer is telling, nonetheless.”

Your back stiffened, and you raised your chin a little higher. “Do you presume to know me Lieutenant?”

“No,” he said, calmly. “I would not presume to know anything without more data.”

“But you have come to some conclusions.”

“Theories.”

“Which are?”

You were standing even straighter now. You would not allow yourself to be intimidated, especially by a man you barely knew.

He paused then. Something in his expression faltered, as if taken by surprise.

A small swell of pride came to your chest. You had a suspicion surprise was a foreign emotion to the alien.

It only lasted a moment and the impenetrable mask reclaimed its place on his features.

“As I said, I cannot make any certain claims,” he said, carefully. “I can only speculate. But I believe I am correct in saying, you are much bolder than you allow yourself to be.”

You blinked in wonder, not knowing entirely what to say. Slowly, you regained control of your vocabulary. “I will take it under consideration.”

He gave small nod in acknowledgement.

Another silence fell between you. It was not as comfortable as the last one. A new tension was in the air. What it was, you couldn’t name. All you knew was your ears were growing deadly hot.

“For such an intimate evaluation of my character, it feels odd I don’t know your name,” you said, in a light tone.

“Then, allow me to provide a remedy.” He straightened to attention. “I am Lieutenant Thrawn, first weapon’s officer of the Blood Crow, Imperial Navy. And, you?”

You matched him, straightening your posture and holding your head high as if to present yourself to a King. “I am Senator Y/N of Danu,” you said, with a curtsey. “It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance Lieutenant Thrawn.”

“The pleasure is mine, Senator.”

The amused line had made its way back onto his lips.

It was a small change, but you instantly fell at ease making your next question easier to bear.

“Forgive me if I sound ignorant,” you said. “And please know I mean no disrespect. But, I do not believe I’ve seen a member of your species before. May I ask where you come from?”

“There is nothing to forgive,” Thrawn assured. “I’m afraid you would not have heard of my home planet as it is not on any of your star maps. I can, however, tell you that I am Chiss.”

You felt your eyes widen. “Chiss?”

He raised an eyebrow. “You’ve heard of the Chiss?”

“Only stories, folk tales really.” You were gawking now, you knew you were, but it couldn’t be helped. “I wasn’t entirely convinced you were real.”

“Indeed,” he said. “And how did a senator come to hear such stories?”

“Danu is part of the Outer Rim, boarding Wild Space,” you explained, mentally shaking yourself out of your shock. “My family has employed a number of traders who have explored the Unknown Region looking for hyperspace lanes or even just new trading partners. They all come back with stories.”

“Which you were inclined to listen too.”

You shrugged. “A good story is a good story, it doesn’t matter where it came from or how true it is. Although, it appears some of them may be.”

“Perhaps,” he said, thoughtfully. “I would be interested to hear these stories. A small handful have been relayed to be by my translator, Ensign Vanto. I am curious what similarities and differences may arise after comparing them to another source.”

A small smile tugged at the corner of your mouth. “And I would be fascinated to hear the stories straight from the Gualaar’s mouth,” you said. “But before we begin, I have one more question to ask of you.”

“Which is?”

“What do you think of the mural?”

Thrawn paused, his brow furrowing slightly.

“You were able to deduce some of my character from the exercise,” you said. “It’s only fair I be given the same opportunity.”

Thrawn again, said nothing. Finally he nodded. “You’re quite right.”

He was quite a long moment.

You could see the wheels of his mind turning behind his eyes. You would have given anything to know exactly what he was thinking. But as was becoming a habit, you could only guess.

Another moment passed before he blinked smoothly back to reality.

“I believe you and I see much the same thing,” he said. “But our conclusions differ as to their ultimate meaning.”

You felt your lips purse at his rather cryptic answer. You were about to ask him what exactly he meant when the curtains behind you parted.

“Lieutenant Thrawn,” an older man snapped. “I’ve been looking… Oh, my apologies.”

He faltered slightly upon seeing you, but soon gained his footing as he stood to attention.

“No need to apologize, Colonel,” Thrawn said. “Allow me to introduce Senator Y/N of Danu. Senator, this is Colonel Yularen of the ISB.”

The Colonel gave a small bow in greeting. “An honor, Senator.”

“The honor is mine,” you replied. “In truth, I should be apologizing to you. It seems I’ve distracted the Lieutenant from his duties.”

“Only for a moment,” the Colonel said, in a good natured, but firm tone which oddly reminded you of your grandfather. “But, I’m afraid I will have to steal him away from you.”

“Of course,” you said, even if you felt a small prick of pain at the loss.

He looked to Thrawn. “Lieutenant.”

“One moment, Colonel,” Thrawn said, as he turned his attention to you. “I would like to continue our discussion at a later date. Is there a time and place convenient for you?”

“I will be attending gatherings every evening this week,” you said, trying to repress the sudden surge of excitement bubbling beneath the surface. “However, I will be in my office tomorrow afternoon, if you can spare the time.”

“I am certain I can. Until tomorrow Senator.”

“Until tomorrow.”

He gave a small bow and turned to follow Colonel Yularen back into the light of the ballroom.

You stood there a moment reeling from the experience. So many questions buzzed in your mind each fighting for your attention until they became a jumbled mess. He thought you were bold?

You shook the thought away, but it didn’t stop your cheeks from growing warm once again.

Perhaps it was too soon to tell, but you had a strange feeling you would be seeing much more of Lieutenant Thrawn than just your upcoming meeting. You weren’t sure what to make of the sensation that now beat fast in your heart. All you could do was wait and see what the galaxy had in store.

Taking a small breath, you step forward towards the light. Your dress felt lighter now. The crown upon your head did not pull and prod. Your steps were smooth and easy.

However this played out, it was certain to be interesting.

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