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cryunderthewillowtree · 1 year

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Coral Streaks – Chapter 5

Synopsis – In which she loves him, but he's utterly, painfully clueless. Awra always believed love should be easy – a beautiful gift from Eywa herself. But when she falls for the oldest Sully, it's a love filled with trial. A tale of coming apart and finding your way back.

Related Warnings: Eventual Smut (Aged Up Characters), Language, Descriptions of assault, Harassment

Characters – Neteyam x Fem Metkayina!reader

Related Tags: Major Angst, Slow-Burn, Friends-To-Lovers, Heartache, Tension, Hurt/Comfort

Notes: Posting this from my Ao3 account, please feel free to head over there to read this story as well! I realised only after being 14 chapters in that I spelt Omatikaya wrong this entire time – my apologies in advance. But please enjoy this story nonetheless!

[Do not interact with this story if you are underage.]

Existence was truly a miserable thing. Awra could testify for sure. She was sure the Great Mother was playing tricks on her to prolong her suffering.

She’d gotten little sleep last night – what with the late hour and the frequent tossing and turning. Every subsequent waking hour was spent ruminating over what happened with Neteyam, upsetting her mood and making her completely disinterested in doing remotely anything around the Ometicayan people. Much to her despair however, she’d forgotten she had agreed to help Tsireya teach the Ometicayans how to freedive near the reef today. Outstanding, she gripes. Another day spent having to dodge and avoid Neteyam always bode well for the day.

When they reached the end of the first circle of corals, Tsireya gestured for the Ometicayans to dive. Out of the corner of her eye, she could feel him; staring intently down at the seabed pondering his next move. She rolled her shoulder out of habit. At least he’s not staring at me. Tsireya dove, followed by Lo’ak, ever eager to impress. Awra turns towards Kiri, who shoots her a small smile before diving forward and swimming after her brother. She pauses, glancing at Neteyam from the corner of her eye. He’s still not moving, eyes transfixed on the water surface. Immediately, she feels an awkward tension in the air.

“Are you just going to ignore me again?”

Awra startles at the sound of his voice, smooth and almost confident in the way it carries across the water. It almost irritates her how he doesn’t sound the least remorseful, and she bites her tongue. At her lack of reply, he sighs her name. “Awra.”

“I have nothing to say to you.” She answers, voice clipped with annoyance. She finally turns to face him, both of them treading water to stay afloat. He’s effortlessly beautiful under the sun, as usual, gazing at her with an unreadable expression.

“Must you make this so difficult? I said I was sorry–”

“Sorry doesn’t cut it, Neteyam. Can’t you get it?” She bites back, baring her teeth. “This isn’t a situation a simply sorry can fix.”

“I don’t like it when you ignore me.” Frustration bleeds into her words, making her throat close up. She’s never seen him angry before, he only ever uses this tone of voice with Lo’akl. “All you do is ignore me. Pretend I’m not there. I don’t understand why.”

Awra groans in irritation. “You don’t understand why? C’mon Neteyam, that’s just playing dumb as this point.” She feels herself getting more agitated in the moment, voice raising in pitch. “I literally kissed you. Kissed you! And you pushed me away.” She trails off, averting her eyes. She hates to admit how much his rejection had stung, how much it had hurt when he’d told her it was a mistake. But she was too proud to tell him.

“Look, I know what I said. I didn’t mean it that way.” He offers placatingly, trying to wade closer. She backs away unconsciously, putting distance between them. His ears turn down, swallowing. “I didn’t mean it that way, Awra. I promise you.”

“Sounded pretty clear to me.”

He clicks his tongue. “I said it was a mistake because it was late, we were tired and alone. I didn’t want us to do something we would regret in the morning.” Awra feels her heart sink even more at that. So typical of Neteyam to be all prudish and responsible at the wrong time. “Do you understand me? Awra?”

“Doesn’t change what you said.” You whisper. “Sounds like you were trying to find a way out. And if that’s what you want, then you don’t have to have this conversation with me right now. I’m telling you I hear you loud and clear Neteyam. I get it.” Her eyes sting, but she refuses to cry. Not in front of him.

“Awra, I–” He pauses, biting his lip; contemplating. “I’m sorry. For saying it was a mistake. It wasn’t, and that’s not what I meant.” She rolls her eyes.

“Sure. Okay.” Awra begins wading back to shore, the urge to run away again stronger than ever. She wades with more intensity than necessary, sending sea water spraying back at the Ometicayan with every stroke of her tail. So maybe she’s upset, he should know.

“Awra please, listen to me.” He pleads, and she can hear him swim after her. She doesn’t stop, wading quickly through the crystalline waters to the shoreline. She hears a splash from behind her, and he grabs her by the arm. She’s yanked backwards from the force, and forced under the water’s surface. All at once, there’s water rushing up her nose and into her mouth, her eyes clamping shut as she flails her arms around for purchase. She feels the vice grip on her arm disappear, and pushes herself upwards for air.

“Shit–!” She hears him panic as she resurfaces, coughing salt water out of her nose. She glares at him, making his ears flatten against his head.

“You really have a knack for getting on my nerves.” She says simply, voice betraying her irritation. “And you never seem to get the hint.”

“Just listen to me, please?” She really didn’t mean to, but she couldn’t help but notice how pretty he looked in the sun – dark blue skin glittering with water droplets. She doesn’t answer, a silent cue for him to continue. He takes a deep breath, a stern look crossing over his features. It’s a look she’d come to associate with Lo’ak, because it’s the expression Neteyam makes when he’s about to chide his younger brother for doing something reckless. Awra scowls at that.

“Don’t patronise me, I’m not–”

“Awra.” The sound of her name makes her stop in her tracks. He doesn’t sound condescending in the least, more tired and wary than anything else. “Listen.” She sulks, but stays silent, childishly avoiding his gaze when he tries to make eye contact. He shakes his head at her, an incredulous smile on his lips at her petulant behaviour.

“I meant it when I said I was sorry for hurting your feelings. It was not my intention. Not in the least.” He starts gently, still holding her arm. “But I was serious when I said I didn’t want us to do something rash that we’d regret in the morning. I have – we have responsibilities, and it wouldn’t be right for us to throw it all away for something we aren’t sure about.”

“I was sure.”

“How can you be certain? You do not know me.” It’s an innocent statement, but it hurts. It hurts because it’s true. The realisation makes her throat close up – and solidifies her worry that this entire roulette they’d been playing was one-sided. She thought about the nights she’d spent sneaking out, loitering precariously around his family’s marui just to make jokes and talk. Had it all been friendly then?

“Look, Awra, I like you. I do, but –” He stops himself, biting his lip.

“But what?” She snaps, making him look up. “If you didn’t want me to kiss you, you shouldn’t have kissed me first. You could have pushed me away, told me to go away, hell anything. But you– you just let me kiss you. I let you touch me, Neteyam. I guess I just thought–” Her voice cracks, and she curses her voice for wobbling. She dares to look up at his face, just to see his reaction. He’s looking at her with almost pity, eyebrows furrowed in the middle as he bobs up and down on the surface of the water.

It’s silent, suffocatingly so. She can’t stop the tears from escaping her eyes, clearing her throat and swiping at her face. Anything is better than having Neteyam feel sorry for her. Eywa forbid. She didn’t need his affection, nor his attention nor his pity. No, he could keep that to himself.

“Hey guys! You coming or what?” She’s snapped out of her reverie by Lo’ak’s voice. She didn’t notice him coming up for air, but he’s waving at her and Neteyam. “Bro get over here! I wanna show you this cool new trick Tsireya showed me!” Neteyam just gives his brother a thumbs up, but looks on with worry as Awra wipes at her eyes.

“Awra–”

“Coming!” She shouts, cutting him off. She didn’t want or need to hear anything more the Ometicayan had to say. She didn’t want anyone else catching on either. As she dove into the water, she could feel him there, behind her. Almost following her with each stroke discreetly as he could. She blew bubbles in annoyance, using her tail to speed up, cruising through the water until she reached the first cluster of brightly coloured corals on the seabed.

At this time of day, aquatic life was vibrant – and the corals were full of fish and other sea critters. Oranges and purples bled together in the clear water, and seaweed tickled at their toes as they dove for seashells. She could see her sister off to a corner of the reef foraging for a special kind of rock, probably to give to Lo’ak. She couldn’t help but smile. The younger Ometicayan was a troublemaker, but at least he didn’t kiss girls then claim it was a mistake. She rolled her eyes when Neteyam appeared beside her, holding onto a piece of coral for leverage under the water.

Leave me alone, she signed angrily. He shook his head, cheeks puffed out comically as he held his breath.

Can we just talk about this please? He signs back. She shakes her head, blowing bubbles in his direction as she swims towards Tsireya. Her sister notices her, cocking her head in confusion at the frown that is surely still on her face.

Are you okay? Tsireya asks, signing quickly as she looks on in worry. You look upset.

Awra shrugs, sighing and letting out another stream of bubbles which float to the surface. She gestures to Neteyam, who is still hovering behind them at a cluster of corals hesitantly. She can see him watching her and Tsireya, but doesn’t make any move to swim over. He doesn’t look remorseful or angry – just confused. Awra tears her eyes away from him, looking at her sister and signing, meet me at the surface. Tsireya nods, carefully stowing away a smooth, flat stone she’d collected into her shoulder sling before pushing off the seabed. Awra does the same, using her arms to make large strokes to carry her up to the water’s surface quickly.

She breathes in, the air clean and salty as she inhales. Tsireya surfaces next to her, shaking the water droplets out of her hair. “What’s wrong sister? I haven’t seen you this upset in a long time.”

“It’s Neteyam.” Awra admits, albeit a little worried. Tsireya’s eyebrows raise, but she says nothing. “Something happened yesterday, and it’s just–”

“You didn’t mate with him, did you?” Tsireya interjects, voice dropping to a sharp whisper.

“No!” You shriek. “Of course not. I’m not stupid enough to do that.” Tsireya looks relieved, shoulders slumping Awra’s response.

“Thank the Great Mother.” Tsireya sighs in relief, hand resting over her heart. “Eywa knows what mother and father would do if you had.”

You huff. “Yeah, I’m well aware of their expectations.” Awra bites out scornfully. Tsireya places a comforting hand on Awra’s shoulder, swimming up next to her sister.

“Then what’s wrong, Awra? You guys seemed to be getting along so well.”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought too. But I’ve been wrong all along it seems.” Awra huffs. Around them the waves move gently, rocking their bodies gently. Tsireya urges her to continue, rubbing soothing circles into her arm.

“We–we kissed, last night.” Tsireya gasps at that, hand coming up to cover her mouth in shock. “Yeah, I know I know. But he kissed me first, and I just thought that maybe it meant he liked me. Y’know? So I went along with it.”

Tsireya frowns, worry all over her gentle features. “Sister–”

“But I was wrong okay? He kissed me, and I kissed him back and he told me it was a mistake.” Awra rambles, facing away from her sister. “I–” She hesitates, biting her lip. “I let him touch me Tsireya. I let him touch me, and he told me he didn’t mean for it to happen.”

Tsireya’s frown deepens, and her grip on Awra’s shoulder tightens. Her sister looks sad and worried all at once, lines marring her features as she takes in Awra’s slumped shoulders and defeated expression.

“I don’t know what to do now sister. I thought after he kissed me that maybe he liked me back. But it appears I have been delusional all this while.” You mumble dejectedly. “It hurts. I try to ignore it, and pretend I don’t care but I can’t. It hurts, and it burns in my chest and it’s all I can think about whenever I see him.”

Tsireya’s eyes dart around, trying to find something to say but nothing comes. All that she can do is hold on to Awra tightly.

Awra sniffles, clearing her throat. “He tried to talk to me, just now, when we were diving. I couldn’t get him to leave me alone. Everytime he talks to me, or looks at me, I feel breathless like I’ve been underwater for days. Everytime I see him, I feel like I’ve resurfaced for air. But it pains me knowing he doesn’t feel the same. And maybe, deep down, I don’t want to make up and play nice because I want him to hurt. I want him to know how this feels.” At that admission, she lets a tear slip, and she feels it run molten down her cheek. She doesn’t try to hide it, and Tsireya gently rubs it away with the pad of her thumb.

Awra looks up at her sister, large aquamarine eyes clouded with worry and sadness. “I’m sorry, Awra. You should have told me sooner. I didn’t know you were in so much sadness alone.” At that her sister wraps her in a hug, and Awra buries her face in her sister’s neck. They’re treading water on the water’s surface so it’s awkward, but it feels good to finally have some comfort. Awra feels herself melt into Tsireya’s embrace, more tears rushing to her eyes. She hears Lo’ak’s voice in the distance, accompanied by Kiri’s nagging and Tuk shouting. If she strains her ears, she can just about make out the sound of Neteyam’s quiet nagging as he asks his siblings to quiet down. She hides her face, not wanting the Ometicayans to see her cry.

“Tsireya, Awra! Are you guys coming? We’re going to check out the sea pools!” Come Kiri’s voice, lilting over the sound of the waves.

“Yeah!” Comes Tuk’s excited shout. “Kiri and I are going to look for special stones to put in my hair!”

“Later you guys! Why don’t you go ahead first, Awra and I will catch up!” Tsireya answers, gently pulling Awra towards the shore on the other end of the sea pools.

“Are you sure!” Lo’ak chimes in, waving from atop his ilu. “We’ll see you guys there right?”

“Yes, don’t worry! Go ahead!” Tsireya waves the Ometicayans goodbye, before checking on Awra. Awra wipes the tears from her cheeks, letting her sister guide her towards a rocky part of the shoreline.

“Did he go with them?” She asks, voice raspy. Tsireya just nods.

“He’s really sweet to you.” Awra says with a watery chuckle. “Lo’ak.”

Tsireya turns purple at that, a flush rising to her cheeks. “Oh, well, yes. He is.” She says, a shy smile on her lips. They settle comfortably on the rocks, tails curled behind them as they watch the water glitter under the sun’s rays.

“I really like him, ‘reya.” Awra admits quietly, gazing down at her hands. Four fingers, and a thumb. “I like him a lot. More than I care to admit.”

Tsireya giggles, hand coming up to cover her mouth as she does so. Awra can’t help the smile that rises at the sound of her sister’s infectious laughter. “What’s so funny!”

“Nothing sister, it’s nothing.” Tsireya teases, dimples showing. “It’s just that, I’ve not heard you sound so in love since well, y’know.”

Awra smiles shyly in return. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. It has been a while hasn’t it.”

Tsireya nods, grabbing Awra’s hands and interlacing their fingers. “Listen here sister, you should go and tell Neteyam how you feel.”

Awra shakes her head fervently. “You don’t understand ‘reya. I already did. Or is kissing someone not enough of a declaration of feelings. How obvious do I have to be?” Tsireya just shakes her head again, smiling at her sister.

“You do not understand the way of men, sister. They are,” she thinks of the next word slowly, “slow.”

“Slow? What do you mean slow. Neteyam is like, the smartest Na’vi. Or something.” Awra trails off at that, embarrassment curling at how quick she was to praise the Ometicayan boy. “Not that I care or whatever.”

Tsireya shakes with laughter. “No Awra, you’re not listening to me. Men are…simple. Straightforward. You cannot beat around the bush about your feelings. He’s probably afraid of hurting you, you see?”

“He won’t hurt me.” Awra sulks.

“He doesn’t know that.” Tsireya placates. “All he sees is you. Future Tsahik, oldest daughter of Olo’ eyktan Tonowari and Tsahik Ronal. He knows what you hold upon your shoulders, sister. He’s probably the only one who understands.”

Awra nods. “I know–”

“He knows your romance is,” Tsireya pauses, “unbecoming. And that’s why he probably hesitates to pursue you as a mate. Because he knows it cannot be.” At that, Tsireya untangles their hands, placing one over Awra’s heartbeat.

“But you cannot let these things stop you, sister. You must tell him you feel. And it has to come from here.” Tsireya pats Awra’s chest, over her top where her heart would be. “Inside here.”

“But what if he rejects me anyway. I don’t–I can’t deal with that ‘reya.” Awra admits, head hanging low as she thinks about the look of anger and confusion on Neteyam’s face earlier that afternoon. “I’d rather not.”

“No, sister.” Tsireya interjects, shaking her head. Her long ornate braids fall over her shoulders, framing her face. Her sister is beautiful, and Awra can’t help but smile at the thought of her and Lo’ak together.

“I don’t know what to say.” Awra sighs. “I’ll just make things worse like I always do. And then mother and father are really going to skin me alive. And cook me.” Tsireya makes a face at her gory description.

“Like I said sister, it has to come from within. Follow your heart, and you won’t go wrong.” Awra’s mood lifts at Tsireya’s calming voice, a small smile on her face. Tsireya smiles in return, dimples forming little divots around her lips.

“And if I fail?”

“I’ll pray to Eywa for you. It will happen if it is meant to.”

Awra sighs, stretching on the rock. “We should head back. They’ll be looking for us.” Tsireya stands, offering a hand and pulling Awra up to her feet.

“I’ll be sitting by Lo’ak for dinner, if that’s okay.” Tsireya says quietly, almost like an afterthought. Awra turns to her sister, a grin on her face. Tsireya narrows her eyes at Awra’s mischievous expression.

“Of course it’s okay! You guys are pretty cute together.”

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Dinner with the Metkayina people was always an event. Everyone gathered at a central marui – far larger than the pods families used to sleep in. This pod was meant for clan gatherings or discussion, and was a place of great importance. Inside, the walls are decorated with woven trinkets – almost like songcords for the clan. Every bead, shell or stone signified a great milestone that befell the Metkayina people and was strung up as a reminder of the clan’s great history.

When she younger, Awra used to sit and play in the central marui or Ta’khu, while her father worked on village matters with her mother and other clan warriors. When she grew older, she grew preoccupied and stopped frequenting the Ta’khu with her father. Since then, the only time she’d step foot inside the marui was during mass dinners. And even then, it was a dread and a half. Her father would parade her around in an attempt to secure a suitable mate, much to her shame and embarrassment.

Please masempu, she’d whine. It’s so embarrassing. Hush, he would say, holding up her hand like a trophy. She felt exposed and vulnerable, and started to dread coming to these dinners. Most days she’d wear a shawl to cover her shoulders – being stared at from every possible angle was violating and made her feel small. Today was no different. As she neared the pod, she could feel herself become uneasy, gripping Tsireya’s hand tightly as they hoisted themselves up into the Ta’khu.

Inside, it’s warm and humid, and she can feel a thin sheen of sweat break out as she sits next to her father near the head of the Ta’khu. Tsireya greets their father quickly and bids her farewell, before skipping over to where Lo’ak is crouching, waiting for dinner to be served. She stops her eyes from travelling, willing herself to look away. She smiles at the look of elation on her sister’s face as she takes her place next to her father.

Tonowari greets her with a nod, crouching at the inner-most part of the Ta’khu. It’s customary for the Olo’ eyktan to seat at the top of the pod, so he may see all his people as they dine. Other Metkayina people filter into the pod slowly, settling into a circle around a feast of fruit, meat and other dishes. The smell is mouthwatering.

“My daughter, where have you been?” He asks, turning to face her with a stern expression. In the dim light of the evening, shadows cast an eerie glow over the tattoos on his face. Awra feels herself shrink under his steely gaze.

“With the Sullys, masempu.” She answers. He looks up at that, glancing over at where the Ometicayan family is sitting. She allows herself a quick glance in that direction as well, and to her surprise, Neteyam is already staring at her. She looks away quickly, willing her beating heart to calm itself. Not here, not now, she reminds herself.

“How has the teaching been?” He probes, reaching for a piece of fruit from the spread of food. As he does so, other Metkayina people start eating as well as a sign of respect. She’s thankful there’s chatter in the pod, and feels at ease with lesser eyes watching her.

“It’s been going okay. They are learning fast, I believe they will be able to ride the ilu without any problem very soon.” Awra says, picking up a slice of meat and nibbling on it. She can feel someone staring in her peripheral, and she prays to Eywa it’s not Neteyam.

“That’s good, that’s good.” He trails off, chewing and swallowing. She enjoys the silence, basking in the warmth of the pod. “Have you had your eye on anyone yet? You know it’s almost time for your Iknimaya.”

And with that, Awra feels her heart sink. “Not yet, masempu. I haven’t really been looking for anyone.” She feels him shift, and swallows nervously.

“Why not, ma’ite? We have plenty of fine men for you to choose from! Warriors, hunters–” He stops himself, a hand on his chest. Awra shrinks into herself even more, the piece of meat she’d been nibbling on now lying forgotten on the floor in front of her. He exhales harshly, turning away from her. All at once, she’s suddenly seven again, and cowering in fear after doing something wrong.

“I’m sorry, masempu. I will look for someone worthy.” She offers timidly, tail curled tight around herself. He doesn’t respond, just exhales again. She takes it as an affirmative, turning away from him. She looks up at the Sully family and sees Neteyam staring at her – eyes large with inquisitivity. The rest of the Sullys are eating, scooping the food up with their hands and in Lo’ak’s case, shoving it unceremoniously into his mouth. She looks over at her sister, who is giggling quietly at Lo’ak’s antics.

Are you okay? He signs discreetly. Her eyes widen, and she glances at her father to make sure he was busy. Her father is speaking with one of the young warriors, eyes diverted from where she is sitting. Awra turns and signs back, not really.

Do you want to talk about it? She looks over at her father again, still occupied in conversation.

Biting her lip, she signs yes. She sees him blink in surprise.

Wanna go for a walk? Meet you outside.

Her heart skips a beat at the idea of being alone with him again.

Okay.

#neteyam x reader #neteyam avatar #neteyam sully #avatar way of water #avatar the way of water #atwow #avatar the movie #neteyam imagine #neteyam fanfiction #neteyam angst

5 notes · View notes

ohworm-writes · 3 years

Note

hello! :) so u know how kuon has a crush on sniper right ? can i get an imagine where reader is jealous bc of kuon, cuz u know, her crush on sniper etc etc (sorry i'm just vv lazy at typing), and how sniper reacts to it ?? can u make it like they're still friends but have mutual feelings for each other as they hang out as a unit, and they get together in the end bc sum confessions happened !! sorry if u don't get it i'm rlly bad at explaining but thank u in advance if u do this !! <33

High-Rise Invasion/Tenkuu Shinpan: Sniper Mask Boyfriend Imagine

high-rise invasion/tenkuu shinpan masterlist

‼ Jealous Reader (over Kuon) + Make up + Confession ‼

Featuring: Sniper Mask, Yuri Honjo, Mayuko Nise (implied), Kuon Shinzaki (implied)

Warnings: frustrated Y/n, crushes, jealousy

a/n - good GODS this has been in my inbox for a while and i’m so so so sorry for not posting it way sooner! hopefully you see this anon, and i hope you enjoy!

content below the cut!

you had developed a crush on the man in the mask ever since you first joined Yuri's little group

you couldn't really tell what it was the drew you to him

he was silent, dismissive, and he was a Mask for goodness sake!

but none of that deterred you from the attraction you garnered for him

you always found yourself trying to interact with him

whether it was offering your help with something that he was doing, or simply keeping him company

most times he brushed you off, walking away and not giving you an answer

other times he silently accepted your offer

those times the two of you would sit in comfortable silence, just enjoying one another's presence

you cherish moments like these for a very specific reason

Kuon

now you had nothing against the girl!

... at first

she seemed nice enough, always eager to help, and full of ignorant innocence

but then you realized her (very obvious) crush on the masked man

the way she got flustered around him so easily

the way she clung to him like a lost child

at first, you thought maybe she saw him as a parental figure, seeing how young she was

but that thought was (very) quickly thrown to the wind when you saw her wrapped up in his jacket, blushing like the schoolgirl she was and giggling to herself

so what she liked him? you liked him too, maybe the two of you could bond over that!

that's what you told yourself

of course, you never acted on it

it was simple, you were too jealous to do so

you noticed how Sniper Mask welcomed all her little instances without a care in the world

not giving a damn when she clung to him

or batting an eye at her obvious fangirling

it pissed you off

naturally, you began to avoid Kuon

and Sniper Mask simultaneously

you avoided the two of them whenever you could

when you saw them walking towards you, you kept to the opposite side of the wall and walked quickly past them

when you all usually ate together, you picked up your food and ate outside

you were simply, undeniably jealous

you didn't think Sniper Mask cared about it, not that you could tell under his mask

but in actuality, he was confused as to why you avoided him all of the sudden

so, he opted to ask you one day

You shut the door to the dining room rather aggressively as you exited, but you couldn't care less. You let your body slump against the adjacent wall, your plate of food resting on your lap.

Today had been... exhausting, to say the least. Kuon was on her usual actions of pining over 'Mr. Mask', crossing your way a few more times than you would have liked. During your meeting earlier with her and Yuri, your fellow mouthless masked allies, she had the gall to talk on and on about how much she adored him.

You hated it.

You looked down at your food, a scowl finding its place on your features. You glared at it, pushing the pieces around with your fork, not noticing a door open and close right in front of you.

"Jesus, if that food was alive, it would be 6 feet under with the glare you're giving it." You hear a gruff voice call from in front of you. A voice you would rather not be hearing right now.

You continue to move around the food, staying silent as the man awkwardly stands in front of you, unsure of what to do with himself in this situation. "Is it, uh, okay if I sit here?" He asks, which finally makes you look up.

He had a plate of food between his own hands, his jacket gone and sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His mask covered his face, per usual, but it seemed much more lopsided than usual.

You give him a shrug in response, looking back down at your food again. He stands there for a moment, before taking a seat right next to you, your knees almost touching. "You don't mind if I eat with you, right?"

His question makes your eye twitch. Was he seriously trying to be all buddy-buddy with you now? You shrugged again, not giving him as much as a single word.

You heard him sigh, setting his food to the side before he speaks again. "Alright, what's going on?" He asks, making your body tense up. "Nothing." You shoot back, scowling.

"What happened to the Y/n that stayed up and talked about their life for hours? What happened to the Y/n that told me horrible jokes to try and get a reaction out of me? Huh? What happened to them?"

That broke you.

You were angry, furious even. Was he trying to blame this on you? You didn't do anything wrong! If it wasn't for Kuon, maybe you would still be that person! If it wasn't for her, you could still be friends with him! You could be-

"What?" You hear him say softly, much softer than his previous tone. Shit, did you say that out loud? "Yeah, you did." He says again, looking at you with a concerned expression on his face, not that you could tell.

"I-I'm sorry, I didn't mean to lash out. I just- I’ve been-" You stutter, trying to find the right words. He laughs at that, actually laughs at it.

His laugh is hearty, warm, almost inviting you to laugh along with him. You don't, but he quickly composes himself, making your head turn towards him.

"Why on Earth were you jealous of Kuon?" He asks honestly, watching at how the invisible gears turn in your head, searching for an answer. You sigh heavily, running a hand across your face as you shake your hands while you speak.

"I just- she’s always there with you. She's latched onto you 24/7! I can't get 5 minutes alone with you before she comes barging in." You rant, frustration evident in your shaky voice.

"I just wanted to be your friend, be close with you. I can never do that because she's-she's there." You groan, hugging yourself with your arms. "I sound like a selfish idiot now, huh?"

You laugh dryly, frowning. He sighs, but a smile plays at his lips. "Y/n." He begins, his hand resting you your forearm. "You know she would never purposefully do that. She just, she has an infatuation with me I guess."

He sighs dramatically, earning a chuckle from you. "But." He tells you, watching your eyes as he speaks. "That doesn't mean I didn't miss you."

Your heart skips a beat at his comment, face flushing softly. "Kuon also misses you. You might not have caught onto it, but she looks up to you." He explains, smiling at how your expression softens, mumbling a soft 'she does?' to him.

He nods, laughing once more. "Come on, have dinner with the rest of us. We can't have you sitting alone out here anymore." You roll your eyes, but take him up on his word. He leads you back to the other, Kuon frantically waving over to the two of you the second you pass through the door.

"Y/n! Come sit with me!" She yells excitedly. Maybe you were wrong about her.

after that interaction, the three of you were all on much better terms

yes, kuon still had her habits, but he toned them WAY down after you explained to her how it made you feel

she teased the hell out of you for it too

you, of course, shrugged it off

but you never told her that she was wrong

you were happy to be on good terms with Sniper Mask again

he made a lot more time for you

your old interactions coming back at full force, and some new ones

he loved to take you on little walks on the high rises

he also made it a point to teach you how to shoot his rifle

which was terrifying, but exhilarating

you fell for him harder and harder every day

one day, you ranted your feelings out to Kuon

and while she wasn't surprised, it warmed her heart to see how much you loved him

yes, she crushed on him too, but that didn't take away from the obvious connection she saw between the two of you

unbeknownst to you, Sniper Mask had come to her about the same things

his usually cold demeanor broke whenever he talked with you

he genuinely enjoyed your company, he wanted more of it

and then some

so, she put a plan together

operation "get Mr. Mask and Y/n together" is a go!

she took it all very seriously

making sure you guys get paired together for scouting missions? that's all her

convincing Sniper Mask to get you little gifts and things? of course

overall, the best wing-woman you could ask for

however, the one thing she didn't have anything to do with was his confession to you

he could have used her help with it, that much was clear

but he wanted to tell you how he felt, no help necessary

Sniper Mask had told you earlier this morning to meet you at his room when the sunset before he rushed to get out of your vicinity like you were a plague. Granted, it hurt your feelings, but you couldn't stand him up.

You knocked gently on the wooden door, stepping back and waiting patiently for it to open. After about a minute, while you had heard nothing, you went to knock again.

Your efforts were proved useless as the door swung open hastily, revealing a disheveled Sniper Mask. His usual blazer and fedora were long forgotten, his hair messy, strands pointing this way and that. His mask sat lopsided on his face, still covering it fully.

"H-hey Y/n." He mumbled out, you offered him a wave as he awkwardly shuffled to the side, opening the door as an incentive for you to come in. You stepped inside, walking to the center of the room as you heard him close the door behind you.

You turned to speak to him again, but those thoughts were cast aside as you felt his hands settle onto your cheeks and his lips molding with yours. It startled you, you're eyes open in shock as you looked at him. His mask was completely off, thrown somewhere in the room, but he didn't seem to have a care in the world.

You quickly melted into the kiss, bringing your hands up to gently hold onto his forearms. He hummed, taking a moment before pulling away, leaving the two of you to gasp for air as he rested his forehead against yours. You opened your eyes to meet his, full of adoration.

"I, uh, I think I'm in love with you?" It was more of a question, but you took it happily. You laughed softly, your fingers rubbing small circles in his forearms.

"Was that what that was?"

#sniper mask #sniper mask x reader #tenkuu shinpan #tenkuu shinpan x reader #high rise invasion #high rise invasion x reader #tenkuu shinpan headcanons #high rise invasion headcanons #sniper mask headcanons #yuka makoto #yuka makoto x reader #yuka makoto headcanons #headcanons #x reader #anime x reader #request #worm answers #kuon + reader

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queenofspades6 · 3 years

Text

More than Partners-The Mandalorian x reader

My Way

Chapter 11 of More Than Partners

Summary: You and the Mandalorian are looking for Ahsoka Tano and your past is catching up with you. How could you think for one second you could escape the time where you were friends with Anakin Skywalker and Ahsoka Tano. But there’s one thing you can’t escape, it’s your love for Din Djarin

Warnings: Ahsoka Tano all the way!! Protective Mando!! Spoilers of Season 2 Episode 5 of the Mandalorian. A lot of references to Clone Wars and all movies! Tell me if you caught them!

A/N: Hey everyone!! I am back with this new chapter! that was so fun to write! I am sorry for the wait, it’s been a very tough week for me! Chapter 5 is definitely my favorite! It inspired me a lot! This chapter is probably the longest I have ever wrote so I hope you’ll all love it! Don’t forget to like, reblog, share and comment if you liked it!! Chapter 12 is already Written and ready to be publish! If you all want publish it on Sunday!

I WILL POST A NEW CHAPTER EVERY MONDAY

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“Mando, I don’t know if it’s a good idea.”

“Why? We really need to find a Jedi to train the Child, and I know you are one, but that you can’t train him. I accept your decision, Y/N.”The Mandalorian said, grabbing weapons from the Razor Crest while you are taking the Child in your arms.

“I don’t know if I can meet her again.”You murmured talking to yourself.

“We need to find Ahsoka Tano, Y/N. What are you so scared of?”

You stayed silent. You couldn’t face your old friend. Not after what happened between you and Din.

“Nothing to reply?”Mando asked, his helmet tilted towards you.

“Come on. We’re going to find Ahsoka.''You sighed avoiding the Mandalorian’s gaze.

You told him one night how it was forbidden for the Jedi to love or to have strong attachments towards someone. He knew that, but Mando wasn’t aware of your past. How brilliant you were as a Jedi, how happy you were to be friends with Anakin Skywalker and Ahsoka Tano. The bounty hunter knew your old Master was the same species as the Child, but nothing more. It wasn’t lying if you didn’t say anything, right?

“This way, Y/N.”The Mandalorian declared, leading you towards the exit of the ship with a gloved hand behind your back.

Maybe if you weren’t so frightened to see Ahsoka again, you would hug Mando or even would hold his hand, but now you were angry with him because he couldn’t understand. He was a Mandalorian. And you were a Jedi. He couldn’t understand what you sacrificed for him. He couldn’t and that made you irritated and resentful. Anger wasn’t the Jedi way, after all.

You walked behind Mando, letting your thoughts wander all along the way to the immense wall of this grim planet. You didn’t know who you were anymore. Once you were a jedi, but now, after falling madly in love with a Mandalorian, you couldn't be a Jedi. Not anymore. It was as if you had broken your vow to Master Yoda, and you couldn’t bear the guilt.

Sometimes, Mando looked behind him to glance at you and see if you were alright. Though, you were too vexed and scared to notice him caring for you.

Once you arrived in front of the huge wall, you stopped at Mando’s height and stared at the guards murmuring something. The captain advanced and peered strangely at you and then the bounty hunter.

“State your business.”The captain claimed, two dominating hands on the wall.

“Been tracking for a few days. We’re looking for a layover.”Mando replied, a protective hand on the Child.

“Nice armor. You a hunter, then.”

With an air of contempt, the captain glared at you. He didn’t know who you were and immediately, didn’t trust you.

Mando kept talking with the captain while you inspected the wall and counted the guards. The Force was strong on this planet, and you knew why, or rather who was here.

The gate of the wall opened, the bounty hunter walked towards the entrance, while you stayed still, unable to move.

“Y/N? Come on. The gate’s open.”

You nodded without even looking at Mando. He noticed you avoiding his gaze, and behind his helmet, he grimaced. He cared about you. He had broken his Creed for you, had removed his helmet in front of you, even if you couldn't decipher his traits in the dark. And now, you were angry at him for a reason he was unaware of. Although he was a Mandalorian, he was affected by your reaction and he began to ask himself: “Does she want to go far away from me?” He learnt to love you, and now, he didn’t know if he could live without you.

The bounty hunter tried to talk to some villagers, but they were too scared to speak.

“The Magistrate wants to see you.”

You and Mando turned around. Guards were here to “escort” you to see this so-called Magistrate. They guarded you to an inner courtyard, and a guard grabbed your arm to make you walk faster.

“Hey! You. Stop that.”The Mandalorian shouted at the guard with your arm firmly in his hands.

The Guard didn’t stop.

“I told you to let go of her.”He said with a threatening tone.”Or. Or you don’t want to know what’ll happen.”

The Guard stared at you, and then let go of your arm, too frightened to fight a Mandalorian.

As the walls close behind both of you, you noticed a woman. Standing still in front of the water, she doesn’t try to welcome you.

“Come forward.”

Mando at your side, you took some small steps towards the Magistrate.

“You are a Mandalorian?”She questioned the bounty hunter.

“Yes.”

“And who is she?”

Even if you wanted to talk, you didn’t say a word. Something was wrong with this woman and the Force was warning you.

“She is-”You clapped his hand to warn you, and just before removing it, you caressed his fingers softly. You swore you would feel him quiver under your touch.

“She is… She is a friend.”

The woman ignored his comment and claimed:

“I have a proposition that may interest you.”

“My price is high.”

You felt yourself trembling. You knew what the woman was going to say, but how could Mando accept? The Mandalorian sensed your discomfort, and he tried to hold your hand discreetly, his fingers slowly caressing your thumb.

“This target is priceless. A Jedi plagues me. I want you to kill her.”The magistrate stated blandly.

You startled, terrified of what the man you loved was going to reply. He felt it and held your hand, even if you tried to push him back.

“That’s a difficult task.”

“One that you are well-suited for. The Jedi are the ancient enemy of Mandalore.”She announced, staring at you directly in the eyes.

She knew who you were.

“As I said, my price is high.”Mando replied, squeezing your hand in reassurance.

The Magistrate gives him the spear, and he let go of your hand.

“Kill the Jedi and it’s yours.”The woman smiled mischievously at you.

*****

“Mando. You’re really thinking of killing Ahsoka?”You questioned, facing him in the woods while the Child looked at you, his head tilted in wonder.

“What do you think, Y/N?”He asked, annoyed by your question, and kept on walking.

You sighed.

“You know I am gonna fight you if you’re really willing to kill her.”

The Mandalorian stopped in his tracks, stared at you and took some steps towards you.

“Do you really think I am here to kill her?”He murmured, placing one of your locks of hair behind your ear.

“I-”

He caressed your face with his gloved hand, and then your lips. You closed your eyes, savouring the small moment of fragile peace.

“You know, Y/N, if I could, I’d kiss you right now.”He muttered, tracing the verge of your lips.

You nodded and avoided his gaze.

“Alright. Come on, Ahsoka is waiting.”You murmured, rushing through the branches.

“Wait! Y/N.”The bounty hunter shouted.

“What, Mando?”You stopped and looked at him, clearly annoyed.

“I am here for you, you know?”

Even if Din still had his helmet on, you could hear the quiver in his voice.

“I know. Vor entye (thank you), Din.”

“Since when do you know some words of Mando’a?”He laughed, seeming quite pleased by your interest about his legacy.

“Since I am trying to learn your strange language.”

Behind his heavy helmet, he smiled for the first time today. His Y/N was back.

After walking for probably hours, you and Mando both heard rustling. He put the Child on a rock and told him to stay there.

“False alarm.”The Mandalorian shouted.

Ahsoka descended from above, yelling and initiating her lightsabers. Mando blocked her shots with his gauntlets, and you screamed trying to attract the Jedi’s attention.

Taking a deep breath, you initiated your own lightsaber and placed yourself in front of Mando.

Wide-eyed, Ahsoka Tano retracted her lightsabers.

The Mandalorian passed in front of you, slowly caressing your elbow and you were certain Ahsoka had noticed.

“Ahsoka Tano!”The bounty hunter panted, a hand towards the Jedi.”Bo-Katan sent me. We need to talk.”

“Indeed. We do need to talk.”She looked straight as you while saying that, and you felt your knees weaken.

“I hope it’s about him.”The Jedi declared, gesturing to the Child cooing, the same species as Master Yoda.

*****

Ahsoka was communicating with the Child through the Force while you and Mando were pacing together waiting for them to finish.

“Who is she to you?”The Mandalorian asked, his helmet tilted in wonder.

“She is… We were friends. We fought together with someone else…”

You tried to stay evasive, but how could you talk about that part of the past without feeling guilt and shame. Your best friend, Anakin Skywalker, had became Darth Vader, and you couldn't help but feel like you had some responsibility in all of this. Ahsoka would discover how much you loved Din, and you were frightened of her reaction. She had lost a friend because of attachments, she would probably think history would repeat itself with you.

“Y/N. Don’t lie to me. Once you asked me to be honest about what I felt, I did, now it’s your turn.”He claimed, and you swore you heard an ounce of sadness in his voice.

“I am not lying, Mando. it’s complicated…”

You paced again, avoiding his look when you saw Ahsoka finally standing up with the Child in hands. Remaining silent, she put the Child on a rock and sat nearby.

“Is he speaking?”The Mandalorian asked, curious to know if the Child had been somehow trying to communicate with him all along.

“In a way.”Ahsoka smiled.

“Do you understand him?”

You glanced at the bounty hunter. He loved you, a Jedi, and yet he ignored so many things about the Jedi and how they killed for a so-called peace. Is it moral to kill for a good cause?

“In a way. Grogu and I can feel each other’s thoughts.”

“Grogu?”You and Mando exclaimed with wide eyes.

The Child glanced at the Mandalorian and then at you.

“That’s his name.”Ahsoka stated, a shy smile on her lips.

“How is it even possible? Why couldn’t I communicate with the Child? Why can you? I am-”You tried to articulate but your voice broke down.

Mando rushed to your side and put a gentle hand on your shoulder.

“It’s alright, Y/N.”He murmured to your ear.

“Why, Ahsoka? Why?”

“It’s simple, Y/N. You closed yourself to the Force.”

“No! That’s not true. That’s-.”You stammered.

She was right. When you arrived on this planet, you felt the Force, but it wasn’t as powerful as before. You were so angry, so fearful that your feelings had closed your way to the Force.

A tear ran all along your cheek.

You promised yourself to always be true to yourself and the Force, and yet, you had been your own enemy? Your feelings had betrayed you. You didn’t even know if you were a Jedi anymore, and now, you lost the Force. It was too much for you, too much for a single person.

Another tear fell on your cheek.

The Mandalorian approached you and with his gloved hand wiped away the tears.

“I can’t! I can’t. I am sorry!”You shouted and rushed towards the woods.

“Y/N!”Mando shouted.

“She needs time to think.”

“I need to go after her.”He claimed, glancing at the Child babbling.

“Don’t.”The Jedi said, holding the Mandalorian’s arm.”She needs time. Alone.”

Mando didn’t know what to do, he hesitated a moment between running after you, or letting you time alone.

“I am going to tell you what I learnt about Grogu.”Ahsoka muttered, taking a seat on a rock, and gesturing to the Mandalorian to do the same. He hesitated, gazing at the way you had run, and sat down.

*****

“I am going to look for Y/N.”Ahsoka announced.

“I am going with you.”The bounty hunter said, taking Grogu in his arms.

“No. You are not. I need to talk to her, Alone.”

Mando nodded unwilingly.

“If you hurt her, I’ll kill you. Jedi or not.”He threatened, clenching his fists firmly.

She acquiesced and began to look for you in the woods.

“Y/N. I know you’re here. I am alone.”

“I am here.”You murmured between tears and sobbing.

“Y/N.”

Ahsoka looked at you, sitting on a branch. She sat in front of you with a compassionate smile.

“It’s been a long time, Y/N, since our paths haven’t crossed.”

“Indeed, it feels like a lifetime.”You replied, not daring to cross her gaze.

“I am glad we met again.”She said shyly.

You acquiesced, still being hesitant.

“Did you miss him sometimes?”The Jedi questioned, raising her eyebrows.

“Every day.”

“I knew you and Anakin were close friends. I am sorry Y/N. It must have been hard to be left alone.”

“It was, but it’s in the past, now.”You tried to end the conversation.

“You succumbed to the temptation, Y/N. You and the Mandalorian, huh?”

You felt your cheeks flushing under the scrutinizing gaze of Ahsoka, your old friend.

“Then, I suppose you are not a Jedi anymore?”

This comment hurt you and anger rushed through your body. It was hard to pretend you had nothing to do with the Jedi anymore.

“I am not. But if I suppose well, you are not either. The Jedi Order is dead.”You pronounced, your words like daggers.

Ahsoka looked down, a bit ashamed and still relieved.

“You are right. I am no Jedi. Not after what happened years ago at the Jedi Temple with Barris.”

“I am sorry, Ahsoka.”You breathed.”I didn’t mean to upset you. I am anxious and angry, and I don’t know what’s happening to me these past days. I am sorry.”

“You love him, don’t you? The Mandalorian?”

You couldn’t lie anymore. Not about your true nature. And your heart.

“In fact, I do.”

Ahsoka smiled. It wasn’t what you were expecting.

“The way he acts around you, how protective he is of you, a Jedi, even with what happens between Mandalore and the Jedi. He cares about you, and you care about him. Like Anakin cared about Padme.”

“I don't know what to do, Ahsoka. I am lost. Mando was the only one there for me. He saved me. There is a bounty on my head too. I can’t act like nothing happened.”

“Do you see yourself with him every day? What do you prefer, him or the Force?”She questioned, her eyebrows raised in wonder.

“Why do I need to choose? Why can’t I have both?”You asked your force-sensitive friend.

“Because it isn’t the Jedi Way.”

“Then I’ll make my own Way.”

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⬇️Part 12⬇️

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vasiktomis · 3 years

Text

Pomegranate, Chapter 17: Quiet Earth, Part I.

John Seed x Female Deputy

Rating: Explicit.

Read it on Ao3 here!

Notes: Thanks all who have been keeping up with this! I'm so consistently floored by the amount of content creators we have in this fandom corner and the sheer level of workmanship that exists here. This is the first chapter of Pom that I'll be posting to tumblr, and I'm hoping to draw up a little sketch with each update. If you have any suggestions, I'd love to hear them! Big thank you to @shallow-gravy and @consumedkings as always for dealing with my stupidity and being a pair of top-notch angels, and also just like, everybody who takes time out of their day to engage with this? Y'all really sticking with ultra slow burn and I swear after some wicked angst in the next couple of chapters I'll finally be able to throw some well-deserved smut at you. WARNINGS: Forced conversion, descriptions of dissociation and derealisation, explicit language, sexual content, depictions of violence, guns, blood and gore. Canon-typical debauchery.

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“Don’t touch him!”

Mary May lunged with enough force for John to feel the wake of air sweep through him, even with how quickly she was snatched up and yanked back to her place. The soles of her tennis shoes squeaked against the floor as she was dragged to the far side of the room, unable to be trusted with providing audience to Nick’s Atonement.

A shame, really. It was nicer as a shared experience.

The Baptist rolled his jaw, off-setting some of the tension arising from the shrieks that the blonde flung at the back of his head. He righted himself, taking the tattoo gun from one of his faithful with a gracious nod, and turned his attention down to the pilot currently pinned to the floor. Without a word, he sank to his knees, straddling the man, keeping silent as he could just to listen out for any change in his demeanour. Fear. Grief. Defeat. Acceptance. A sign to prove his readiness.

Nick didn't flinch, breathing hard through his nose and watching with hateful eyes. John hovered an indicating hand over the man’s bare chest, bruised from the fight he’d put up against his capture, mentally mapping out placement. Then, he came in with the needle, beginning with the stem of an ’E’, right in the centre of Nick's sternum.

The pilot snorted, masking discomfort with indifference, turning a wince into a scoff. “Figures you don’t use stencils. I ain’t got a hope in hell of this turning out good, do I.”

That casual old Nick attitude. He missed it.

If only he’d let him do this 5 years ago. He wouldn’t have had to miss it.

John feigned offense. “Oh I’m sorry, Nick. Did you want me to do the rest in cursive? Add a feather? Infinity symbol?”

“For fuck’s sake-”

“Talk about tonal dissonance. It’s not meant to be pretty.” He grumbled. “Might’ve gotten a little more practice if you’d-”

A yell from the rear entryway pulled John’s hand away from his canvas. More squeaking. More interruption. Jerome Jeffries getting hauled into the church, held under each arm by the pair of Chosen that John had sent looking for him.

The Baptist cast a look over his shoulder at them, content with the sight of Jerome adequately beaten and bloodied. “Ahh. Pastor. Try to run and hide? It’s no wonder your flock ran astray with a shepherd so quick to leave them to the wolves.”

Jerome ignored him. No reply. No eye contact. A crime John noted to make worthy of capital punishment in the New Eden. The Pastor was set down beside Mary May, who immediately began seeing to his injuries. Murmuring bubbled between them.

“Did you reach them?” The bartender asked. Must’ve been a negative, because the next thing she did was curse.

“The Deputy was calling when they caught me.”

And if she had half the spine to come and broker an agreement for her friends, she’d be inbound.

“Could you at least gag them? I’m trying to concentrate.” John ordered no one in particular, earning another scoff from Nick. “The faster we work, the less we’ll have to get through once she arrives. The quicker we can be out of this heinous town.”

“Stay away from her, shitbag.” The pilot ground out, this time unable to save face when John retaliated, pressing the gun just a little too hard, digging down through an extra few layers of skin.

“Nick Rye, you’re a married man.” John tutted playfully, resuming his work. “That sin of yours again. Take, take, take. Didn’t think the Deputy to be your type. Wouldn’t say you’re hers, either.”

Nick looked downright disgusted at the prospect. Less concerned for the state of his wife - which meant she'd been a likely getaway. “Always been so fuckin’ jealous.”

“Come again?”

“Think folks are stupid? Think I don’t know you?”

“You don't know me, period.” John bit back, skin on the back of his neck flushing between boiling and freezing.

“Anyone else givin’ you this much trouble’d be long dead by now. That shit on the radio? Reckon you’d be talkin’ like that if your family could hear you across the river?” Nick continued, averting his gaze when John shot him a particularly poisonous look. He didn’t, however, find it necessary to respond to such a veiled accusation.

At least until -

“Everybody knows you wanna stick it to her, John-”

As if he’d been awaiting the chance, John’s free hand shot to Nick’s jaw, aching in protest when he squeezed, not stopping until he could feel the man’s molars beneath his flesh. “That’s about enough from you.” He crooned.

John had his desires, yes. He’d accepted that much. Had he not been sworn to celibacy, he might have jumped at the opportunity to respond to Cora’s advances last night. That said, she was still an outsider, and while her Atonement made the prospect less dicey, he couldn’t consciously consider laying with the woman in real life.

No matter how torturous it had become to gear his thoughts toward anything else.

He could be content with just her company, without making any further advances on her. Last night had simply been a moment of weakness, and he’d prevailed by stepping away.

“If you’ll excuse me.” John switched off the little machine once he’d completed his piece and promptly stood to beckon for replacement parts. Mary May might have gotten away with an allergic reaction last time he’d attempted this, but considering he’d be slicing it out of her within the hour, he couldn’t see any reason for her to be complaining. The bartender had been a thorn in his side from the start. While Nick and his wife had once lent John their...whatever a sinner’s closest equivalent was to friendship, Mary May had always been trouble. Wore her heart on her sleeve and trusted no one she hadn’t grown up around. Bolshie. Almost fucking killed him, once.

John busied himself with needle transfers and a pleasant expression. He could feel the woman’s eyes on him.

Did she think what Nick proclaimed? That complete and utter lie?

How fucking crass. No, he did not want to ’stick it’ to Cora. At least, as far as anyone else was concerned. He was fond of her, and - while yes, he had encountered temptation - if one disregarded the cum-stained, stolen panties in his pocket, and the conjured fantasies, and the purely incidental erection he’d maintained after the Deputy stuck her tongue down his throat last night - there was simply no evidence to suggest to anyone else that he was even remotely tempted to break the rules.

Sex was the furthest thing from his mind. It was mere coincidence that today had just so happened to fall on a morning in which he’d needed to trim.

…

If, however, she were to decide that she wanted to continue what she’d attempted last night, then surely he couldn’t be to blame if he only failed to stop her. It wasn’t technically fornication if he didn’t initiate it. Nor was it considered intercourse if -

“Brother John.”

John jumped, heart stopping, whipping his head around to the Chosen standing at the door of the church.

“What?" He asked thickly.

“The Deputy’s arrived.”

Right on cue, the crackling of gunshots drifted in alongside the Chosen’s announcement.

“Tell everyone to hold their fire.” John ordered. “We have them outnumbered tenfold. The Deputy can’t be stupid enough to create a hostage situation. Direct her here, and peacefully.”

The Chosen’s throat bobbed, swallowing back outrage, and John squinted hard at him, trying to dispel the flicker of green light in the mist outside as it settled against the man’s temple.

“John, I don’t think-”

He never got a chance to act on that incoming insubordination.

Instead, he jerked, cut off by a sickening crack as a section of his skull blew out of his head. Red mist and liquified brain matter followed, splattering against the doorframe, and the Chosen slumped lifeless onto the front step.

John wasn’t so much shaken by the killing as he was irritated by everyone else’s apparent refusal to let today go according to plan. Maybe also the pile of brains and hair now sitting on his once-pristine red carpet. He’d made this easy for the woman: kill everyone he could round up, leave her with no one to claim duty to, and get this all over and done with. Have her home by mid-afternoon. Embark on a new chapter and achieve salvation. It was that simple.

Woe to him for trusting in her common sense.

“Fuck’s sake. Wrath begets more wrath.” He muttered, smoothing a hand over his chin. He didn’t have the patience for this any longer. “Fine. Sister -”

A woman stood from the pews as soon as John made eye contact, equally as unshaken by the scene mere feet away.

“Send out word: the Deputy wants to sacrifice her friends for the sake of a fight.” John punctuated the end of his sentence with a click as he returned his focus to jamming the needles into his tattoo gun. “Give her what she wants. Take her by force.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

The smokescreen was beginning to clear, but despite the weight it was taking off her lungs, Cora would’ve preferred it remain just a little longer. At least until they’d cleared out the town. Had they been quicker, it might have lasted longer. Covered their approach to Fall’s End. Given them more cover to sneak about unseen.

The streets, while still hazy, were visible now. It wasn’t a difficult task watching Peggie silhouettes run from building to building in search of her team. Resistance members and civilians were either in the process of being rounded up, or littered the road and pavement, dead. The Ryes, Mary May, and Pastor Jerome were yet to be seen amongst either group.

Same went for Boomer.

Aside from the barking of orders from Chosen and faithful, there was little sound. Knowing how much of a fuss her dog had put up the last time he’d been caught by the Project struck Cora’s nerves. He was his own alarm, and he would not go peacefully.

Not hearing him was an indication of the worst.

Some part of her brain argued against the idea. Vouching that John wouldn’t have hurt the creature. That was her dog. He had to be an exception to the massacre, no matter how vicious he behaved.

She had to find him, and creeping through the rear entry of the Spread Eagle was the first point of call.

Luckily enough, the back door had yet to be boarded up. Peggies who rushed past covered windows hardly stopped to peek inside the place for fear of being tainted by the presence of alcohol. Sneaking in was simple enough, too, at least once Jess had picked the lock.

“I’m going to pretend that door was open.” The Deputy murmured her equivalent to praise, passing into the building.

Grace headed straight in after her, taking a left to search for any sign of Mary May while she took a right toward the stairs.

“You pretend the Cook’s head was already gone when we found him?” Jess whispered.

“Freak accident. You all saw it.”

“First floor’s clear.” Grace announced from the serving hatch in the kitchen, clearly unhappy about it.

“Right.” Cora acknowledged, “I’ll check up top.”

The second story was as dead-quiet as the first. Furniture had been knocked over in the hallway and bedrooms had been raided. None of it indicated anything good, but she still had to know.

Cora pushed open the door to her room, and while she held no expectation of what she’d find, her heart sank anyway.

It was empty.

Boomer was gone.

Only his makeshift collar and a tattered bandana remained atop the rug he’d been snoozing on that morning.

Her dog.

John had either taken him or killed him, just like the rest. He’d do the same to the rest of her team. She should’ve taken the Baptist’s offer before the latter had even become a possibility.

“No sign?” Grace affirmed once the Deputy slipped back down to the first floor. “My guess is either they’re in hiding, or John’s giving them special treatment. If they were dead he’d be parading them.”

Sharky and Hurk exchanged a frown when Cora offered only a nod, notably more meek than usual.

“Was he in there, darlin’?” Adelaide asked, a little too gently not to invite a sting to her eyes.

Cora felt her jaw clench. It was a different breed of nausea, trying to keep her composure under the scrutiny of the rest of the team. She managed to shake her head, and Adelaide’s hand found her shoulder.

“Could still be with the others, yet.” The woman offered.

“So how do we find them?” Jess asked.

Find John Seed, of course.

“Finding them’s one thing. Getting to them might be the harder part.” Cora began. “The smokescreen’s only getting thinner and there’s Peggies everywhere. It's grasslands from here to the hills. No way we can herd everyone across a field on-foot, safely. We’ve got to make sure they stay freed, first.”

“And?” Jess huffed. “We’re gonna kill some Peggies, right?”

The blonde considered that.

“We split up. Search the buildings for anyone who hasn’t been caught yet. Round them up and plant explosives as we go. With enough chaos, maybe we can have a shot at turning the tide in the short term.”

Sharky was practically trembling. “Explosives, like, everywhere?”

“Everywhere. The more damage, the better.” Cora replied. “Adelaide, Xander, pair up. Sharky and Hurk, same with you.”

“And us on range?” Jess grinned, trading a look with Grace who maintained absolute stoicism. “I’m so into that.”

“No.”

…

“Say what?”

“No more ranged attacks. I need you and Grace to head back to the van -”

Jess was advancing on her before she’d even finished her sentence.

“You’re pulling me outta the fight? The fuck gives?” The huntress loomed over the Deputy, incredulous. Cora made an effort to stay put, but Jess’s insistence managed to outweigh her stubbornness, forcing the blonde to compromise by leaning as far back as she could without falling.

“We can’t keep running on short-term wins.” Cora insisted. “We have to put our foot down. No more small assaults. No more hoping John gets demoralised enough that he hands himself over.”

Sharky frowned. “What’re you saying?”

She met his gaze, puffing out her chest, retaking her space. “I’m saying the Henbane Bridge is unmanned right now. If we get word to the County Jail, there’s no roadblock to stop them from helping us win this. John Seed’s throwing everything he can at us. I say we try for the same. I say we end it for good. We’re gonna take back Holland Valley. Today.”

“...You really like that dog, huh.”

“That too.”

Jess looked unconvinced. “So the two of us are running errands while the rest of you are holding the fort? Fucking bullshit.”

“I told you. No more range.” Cora bit back, jabbing a thumb toward Hurk and Sharky. “You’d rather send Boshaws and Drubmans to convince Tracey to send us her best people? No offence.”

“None taken, bitch.” Adelaide grumbled.

Grace exhaled, throwing away momentary hesitation. “We’ll be fast.”

Cora traded a nod with the sniper before looking to Jess once more.

Still unconvinced.

“They have cars with guns on them, remember?”

The corner of Jess’s mouth ticked. Temptation.

Mission accomplished.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

The tacky fucking carpet was the first thing she noticed, creeping along Main Street. Bliss petals had been sprinkled all over the road leading up to the church.

The carpet ended at the door. An invitation if she ever saw one. Boastful. Arrogant.

A pang of dread ached through Cora's bones, holding her in place while she drew her revolver. It could be an ambush. It probably was an ambush, but there was nothing she could feasibly do to avoid it. If the others were in there, then she couldn't wait around any longer.

She had to do this. At least hold out until Jess and Grace returned, with or without help.

She'd been running for long enough. All other options had been exhausted. At least John offered the least awful defeat.

Drawing close to the entrance, the Deputy pointedly avoided examining a dead crow that had been impaled upon the wall. She inhaled, holding the breath in her lungs, steadying her heart rate.

It was only freedom.

She opened the door, immediately training the gun out before her, following its guide into the room.

About a dozen Peggies dotted the space, leaning against walls, lining the pews - all angled at the pulpit, observing Nick on the floor. He stifled a cry while John sliced through the final remaining layers of skin binding the tattoo to his chest, peeling the word 'GREED' out of his flesh. Blood pooled on the floor around them, and the moment John had stepped away, the pilot was descended on with antiseptic and bandages.

The Deputy waited for nausea at the sight to take its course. It never did. She was all but numbed to the sight.

"Deputy, run!"

Mary May's voice cut through the silence, and the bartender lurched from her own spot on the ground. Guns raised all around the room, swinging around to aim for Cora.

”Hold!” John barked immediately, unconcerned when the Deputy shifted her aim to him. Instead, he busied himself with washing his sullied hands. “Hold your fire.”

His followers obeyed.

Cora, meanwhile, cocked the revolver in her grip. One foot edged into the room, and she glanced around for the Project’s captives before returning her gaze to John. All on the other side of the room. Pinned. Fuck.

“Hope County Sheriff’s Department.” She announced, staring the Baptist down, ignoring the grin that crept onto his face - like he found it fucking funny. “Weapons on the ground. Step away from the hostages.”

“Hostages?” John snorted. He gestured Pastor Jerome, Mary May, and Nick. “These are guests! This is their Atonement. This is your Atonement.”

“Drop the fucking weapons.”

John’s patience thinned. Quickly. “I’m not doing this with you.” He replied simply. “Not today.”

With his own look around the room, John inclined his head. An unspoken order to which everyone carrying a gun turned them on her allies.

“We both know you don’t have enough bullets for everyone. Nor do you have the time. So why don’t you put down my gun and surrender.”

“Don’t-” Mary May was cut off with the tap of steel against her temple. Warning.

John was right. She was outnumbered. There was no chance of getting any of them out with force alone.

She inhaled. Exhaled. Watched the fondness slip back onto John’s face like it had never left, and set the gun on the floor.

“That’s my girl.” John murmured. Then, he motioned. “Get her ready.”

Cora’s stomach dropped as two sets of arms coiled around hers, each pulling and pushing, prickling at her skin with unfamiliar, sickening touch. Biology told her to resist. Escape the sensation. The downward pulling.

“No, stop it.” Escaped her while she squirmed. “Get off. Stop touching me-”

“Her friends can’t be far. Find them.” The Baptist ordered, turning away toward the pulpit.

Cora’s knees hit the floor. There was no holding the repetition of protests, but even as she consciously elevated the volume of her voice, it grew quieter in her ears. Calculated attempts to jerk away and make an escape became automatic twitches.

One of John’s followers - a female - crept into view, fingers tugging at the top button on her uniform collar. John readied a tattoo gun over the woman’s shoulder, and the Deputy’s mind screamed alarm bells. Get out. Escape. Fight back. Regain control.

“I won’t hurt you, sister.”

This time, she sank, curling forward, angling herself away from the woman. Another attempt, and she wrenched away again, snarling. Then, the Peggies around her must have gotten tired of all the fuss, because the tear of cotton clawed at her ears. Ringing through her brain.

Her back felt cold all of a sudden.

Green material slipped down her arms, and at the sight of her own uniform pooling in shreds in her own lap, Cora ceased her thrashing. The shredded shirt was yanked from her belt and tossed aside, and she watched with growing resignation while John turned back around.

His gaze found hers. Then flickered downward, first to the compression bra, then a margin to the right. “Here I thought you’d be unmarked.” He commented, inspecting what was visible of the old ink on her lower ribs while he approached.

Hands pressed against Cora’s shoulders, and she drifted back until her shoulder blades hit the floor.

John continued to loom until he stood directly over her. He sank to his knees, expression softening with his descent until he was on all fours on top of her. He looked almost adoring, and she hated how it comforted her, just slightly. She hated how the hands had disappeared from her limbs, and yet she still made no further attempt to escape. He had every ounce of power now.

She didn’t know she’d started trembling until his free hand swept over her collarbones, mapping out her chest, calming the gooseflesh beading on her from the chill, or the fright, or perhaps just that this whole thing felt so humiliatingly exposing.

A blush swelled over John’s throat, maybe indicating some straying line of thought. He snapped out of it and settled to sit on her hips. “This looks familiar, doesn’t it?” He teased, hovering the tattoo gun right over the centre of her sternum.

“Dont.” Was all she could manage. Weak. Pleading. “I don’t want you to.”

“You have no idea how good you’re going to feel after this.” John cooed.

One of his fingers drifted along her jaw. An attempt at comforting her, but to no avail. He looked equal parts gentle and feral with excitement.

The machine buzzed, lowering pitch when the needles finally pressed into her flesh.

This was it.

She’d lost. There was no going back, anymore. No more normal, no more ridding herself of this family. They’d taken everything, and now they were claiming ownership over her, too.

The others were being hunted. It was only a matter of time. John was working too quickly. They’d be gone before the Cougars even crossed the river.

Cora’s nerves muted. Sound closed to just the rumble of blood in her ears. She receded into herself. Found a backseat in her mind, away from the sensory overload and the humiliation and her own failure while her body quietly continued: ”Dont, don’t, stop.”

She’d lost, and John wouldn’t stop. Not while he was branding the evidence of his victory into her flesh.

Defeat tasted worse than anticipated.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Bullets whizzed overhead while Sharky and Hurk took cover beneath the window, watching helplessly as the aisle of potato chips and bar nuts was torn to shreds by the onslaught. Dorito dust filled the shop like mustard gas.

“Cuz, I think they found us!” Hurk barked, snapping an arm over his head in defence when a stray round ricocheted off the front counter.

“What gives you that impression?” Sharky hit back, hurriedly setting down his shotgun and shrugging his backpack to the floor.

“How many are there?”

“How about you check?”

A moment of quiet occurred while the cousins glared at each other, leaving their standoff to a battle of no blinking. Then the Peggies outside must’ve finished re-loading, because the back wall of the shop was suddenly being shot into swiss cheese.

They were okay. Everything was cool. Addie and Xander had taken their share of explosives and gone the quiet route. Grace and Jess were gone. Shorty had disappeared into the church, and while he couldn't count the best, Sharky was pretty confident that John had caught her.

Could they have kept on looking for survivors and breaking out captives? Sure - but why do that when they could kill, like 40 birds with one stone and beeline for the gas station? It was conveniently across the road from the church, empty of any and all life barring the dormant tanks underground. An explosion that big was sure to fuck up like a good portion of Main Street. Not even the Chosen would be able to resist checking it out.

Disconnecting the safety switches had been easy. He’d been arrested for doing it like 5 times already. Cops, Peggies; it didn’t matter - Sharky knew what he was doing, and without the giant swinging dick of the law hanging over him, the man was on a mission. Cultists shooting at him was fine. He was used to that.

Threat of death or no, he wasn’t giving up the chance to see this place blow sky high.

“We’ll be outta here any second, Hurky.” Sharky assured. “Just gotta sprinkle a little C-4 around the place and we’ll be gone before it even goes off.”

Hurk was sweating. A lot. He was accustomed to being shot at, but normally, he had more than just Sharky to get him out of a tight spot. “Alright, bro. Gimme some. Many hands and what have you.”

“Fuck yeah. First step, toss some at the tanker outside. We wanna get the place as fiery as possible up here to wake up the big boys underground, and-”

Sharky stopped in his tracks, eyeing the backpack he’d just been in the process of unzipping.

“-uhh.”

“Uhh?”

“Hurky, can I be real with you?”

“Is now the best time for a deep and meaningful?” Hurk hissed, crawling toward him nonetheless.

The arsonist stuck his hand down the pack, rifling through fluff and mesh. “I, uh, I think I brought the wrong bag. And by think I mean know without a shadow of a doubt.”

Hurk watched as his cousin tugged the green, furry headpiece of a dragon out into the open.

“You brought-...”

“I brought my fursuit.”

“Not the C-4?”

“Not the C-4.”

“Okay, bro. That's fine. I'm not mad. Human error. Not even a little bit?”

Sharky checked again, just for good measure. “Nope...so, uhm...you got a match?”

Hurk ran a hank through his hair. “Not to poo poo your ideas, but that probably ain’t the best move.”

So just like that, they were fucked.

Jess and Grace still hadn’t come back. The others were nowhere to be seen. Shorty was holed up in that church, and he and Hurk were about to be rounded up by born-again virgins.

Shit, if that were the case -

“Well, if this is gonna be the last opportunity.” Sharky grunted, tugging the suit out and unzipping the back. “May as well enjoy our last minutes of freedom, huh?”

Hurk took the cue, creeping across the destroyed shop floor and reaching for a popped bag of pretzels. He sat back against the wall, leaning against the rocket launcher he’d propped up against the corner.

“Man.” The brunette sighed, staring at the floor. “If only we had some other kind of ranged, explosive device.”

“No shit.” Sharky agreed. “Some high velocity shit would fix this.”

They exchanged a sympathetic look once the arsonist had zipped himself up and crept over and sit beside his cousin, both leaning on either side of the RPG.

Hurk held out the bag.

“Pretzel?”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“Was that so bad?” John asked, placing the tattoo gun aside and framing the Deputy’s marked chest. ’WRATH', in true black, beading with blood. The skin surrounding the text was mottled and inflamed. Excess ink covered the area in patches, gathering in the dip of her cleavage, disappearing beneath her sports bra.

All that sin, already leaking out through the exit he’d made for her.

Gorgeous.

Cora didn’t respond. That was fine. Shock was normal. She’d thank him once this was all over. For now, she just trembled, lock jawed, dissociated gaze searching what John had thought was him until he sat up. No, instead she was watching the ceiling.

John flashed a smile, blocking out a tiny streak of dread at the sight of the woman so vacant. Sweeping a lock of stained hair over her shoulder, he smoothed his fingers past her neck, attempting to gently angle her focus back to him. “Hey. You can come back now. We’re all done.”

You're finally on the other side. React to it. React to me. Look at me-

The boom came first, hollow and deep, and John felt the floor beneath him rumble. Chandeliers and decorations wobbled from the disturbance. Several of his followers shot from their seats, immediately abandoning the Resistance leaders they’d guarded in favour of pacing back and forth, trying to get a look at whatever was happening outside.

“Is this it?”

“Is it the Collapse?”

“It’s time?”

“John, is it the Collapse?”

The panic escalated quickly, forcing the Baptist to break his attention away from the empty woman below him and rein in the flock.

“Calm down.” He exclaimed, “It’s not the Collapse. It’s probably just-”

Another boom. Almost deafeningly loud.

This time, the whole church shook. Windows shattered in their creaking panes and smashed to the floor while pews squealed heavily in protest.

Contrary to his assertion, John dove down, covering the Deputy with his body. Holy shit, was it the Collapse?

The tremor must have been enough to snap Cora out of her trance, because a muffled “Get your tits out of my face.” buzzed against John’s chest.

Tragically, however, the Baptist never got the opportunity to reply to her. Had it not been for the fucking tennis shoe colliding with the side of his skull, he imagined he’d have something very clever to say. Alas, pain shot through his head and he jerked to the side, fighting against the blow to stay put. A snarl from Mary May, his apparent attacker, sounded in retaliation. She dove into him, knee driving into his ribs, throwing him off of the Deputy.

His thoughts left him for the briefest moment, overtaken by ensuing gunshots and shouts and the shrieks of the bartender as she was clawed away from him. Her hand shot forward right as she was yanked up, intended as a punch. It didn’t land, and John couldn’t help but shoot her a smirk for her failure.

“Deputy, gun!”

Nevermind. It wasn’t a punch after all. Mary May had been pointing over his shoulder at the revolver that had been surrendered on the floor. His revolver. The same one Cora was now scrambling toward.

No.

John lurched, heart leaping into his throat.

Not now. Not after he’d won. Not when they were so close.

His hand found the leg of Cora’s pants, wrenching, pulling her away from the weapon, and she kicked against him. Her finger tips slid against the barrel of the revolver, tugging it into her palm.

God wouldn’t fucking undo his victory.

John snarled, catching the Deputy’s wrist when she tried to aim - at him no less. Without her own recovery time achieved, he was able to wrestle the weapon from her easily enough, flattening her struggling body beneath his just long enough to hook an arm around her waist. He twisted around, holding the woman’s back against his belly. Her squirming ceased with the press of the muzzle against her head, and the moment her allies had taken notice of the change, everything went still.

Finally.

A little civility.

Several of John’s followers lay on the floor, either dead or close to it. Only a half-dozen remained, though the pair of Chosen had survived and placed themselves closest to their leader.

Pastor Jerome had procured a handgun from within his own bible - something that pulled a breathless laugh out of John as he surveyed the others. Nick hadn’t been able to arm himself, but he’d still tackled one of the faithful to the ground. His knuckles were bloodied. A familiar sight. Mary May had wrestled a gun of her own away from the woman who’d seized her. She aimed it shakily at John.

Armed but outnumbered, outgunned, and now, they were in check.

They never learned, did they?

“The way you people behave, you’d think salvation was a bad thing.” John tittered. “Right. Now, let’s try this again. Atonement, or damnation.” To punctuate his meaning, he tapped the muzzle against Cora’s head. She grunted in protest, and he ignored her. Of course it was a bluff. No one else knew that but him, though. It was too risky a move for the Resistance to let him do away with the one person that banded their factions.

She was their leader. They couldn’t lose her.

John looked around the room once more, locking eyes with Jerome first - then Mary May. “Are we going to behave?”

The answer was immediate and clear: a gunshot cracking through the Baptist’s ears and the flash of a blast spilling from Mary May’s weapon. Cora’s elbow driving into his stomach and the reaction time of his Chosen snapping to attention, covering him, already hauling John out of the church and onto the street.

Fuck no, he wasn't leaving without his prize.

"GRAB HER!" John howled, struggling against the attempts to get him to safety. "Leave the rest!"

It was a reluctant effort, but the Deputy was yanked along as well, shoved into Johns arms on his repeated orders, with me, with me.

“Mary May, what the fuck!” The Deputy roared over her shoulder.

“Sorry Deputy! I missed!”

Missed?

“You sure about that? Jesus fucking Christ!”

More shots sounded, but only the noise pursued them from the building. It wasn’t until John had shoved Cora into the back of the waiting truck that he realised how warm his hand had gotten. Wet, too.

“Get to the ranch!” One of the Chosen snarled up front, casting a look back at the Baptist while the vehicle took off, watching as he peeled away from the blonde to inspect himself.

Blood.

He was bleeding. But where from? Barring the sting of his scabs and that kick to the head, nothing hurt. There were no wounds hiding under his sleeves or -

A hiss sounded from the Deputy beside him, curling in on herself.

Shit.

She hadn’t elbowed him.

“Cora-” John scrambled for her. "Cora, let me see."

“Told you not to call me that.” The Deputy grit out, kicking at him until she’d well and truly jammed herself into the corner of the seat and the car door. Her left hand gripped her right forearm, just below the elbow and to no avail. Crimson coated the skin on her side, encasing her arm completely and seeping through her fingertips.

She was bleeding. Not heavily, but steadily.

”Deputy.” John bit back, advancing. “You’re hurt. Let me help-”

Just like that, the kicking resumed. “Don’t touch me-DON’T FUCKING TOUCH ME-”

“For once in your fucking life, just relax!”

Only incomprehensible snarling came in response.

John rolled his jaw, brimming with as much irritation as he was adrenaline. The Resistance had made their choice. Regretful, but final. He’d gotten what he came for, and he wasn’t intending on losing her just because she was too stubborn to accept help.

He glanced at the revolver still in his grip. Then back at Cora, rotating the grip toward her. A threat. “Are you going to let me help, or am I going to have to calm you down?”

“Don’t you dare.” Her words came hoarse. She gave scowling a red hot go, but without the rationale to deny him, the Deputy lacked conviction. She exhaled. “Fuck it. We've done this enough already. You get ten minutes. Then you’re under arrest.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Her cheek twitched. A weak chuckle. The slightest flash of acknowledgement as she let him press his weight over her forearm. Thankfully, the wound wasn’t pulsing; nor was there a puncture wound. A gouged strip had been carved into her flesh where the bullet had grazed, but nothing vital seemed to have been struck.

“That - you can keep saying.”

"You're a flirt when you're in shock, Deputy." Had John not been too busy regulating about a dozen other emotions, he might have flushed at her words. For a moment, he just sat there, basking in the borderline friendliness on her face. Then, it occurred to him that they were among watchful company, and he cleared his throat, returning to his task.

Minutes passed. No more words were exchanged. Not until they’d passed the Rye and Son’s sign.

The Chosen in the front passenger’s seat looked over his shoulder, dismissing another over the radio before regarding the Baptist. “The Resistance isn’t making ground. The faithful are still rounding up stragglers, and we’ve taken casualties, but numbers are looking strong. Medic will meet you at the ranch, John. We can deliver our newest sister to the Gate while you recover.”

John inclined his head. “Much obliged. We need this one to stay with us until she’s completed her vows. She can’t be trusted unsupervised, but I won’t put the responsibility of containing her back on our people again.” He looked to Cora, then. Her face had run pale and she’d gone clammy, but she remained upright. Just...woozy. Pacified, for now.

He’d got what he came for. Fuck the rest.

“I have something to say.” The blonde announced, swaying against John’s arm. “I know why Mary May shot me.”

“This another one of your jokes?” John deadpanned.

“This one’s funny, I swear.”

“...go on, then.”

“It’s because I never tip.”

For a moment, Cora looked very satisfied with herself. Then, she retched, slumping forward into the Baptist’s lap when he instinctually jolted out of the potential line of fire. He hurried to steady her, keeping tight hold over her wound, and grimaced while the noise escaped her a second time.

Thank God nothing came out; his shoes would’ve been the first to know about it.

The Deputy didn’t sit back up.

That was fine. So long as she wasn’t dead. So long as she wasn’t fighting back.

“It’s all the sin escaping you.” John explained, off-handed, when a complaining grunt sounded below. “Evil being expelled from your body. You’ll feel better soon.”

“Pretty sure it’s my blood pressure, actually. Soon as I’m good again, you’re history.”

When one disregarded the fact that she’d had a gun trained on him earlier - and the blood drying uncomfortably on his clothes - and the persistent pounding of a headache from Mary May’s heel, this was almost pleasant. The quiet roads. The Deputy, all but atoned with her head on his thigh. Not fighting back. Conceding defeat. Peaceful.

He got what he came for.

He’d won.

He was saved.

Passing his thumb over Cora’s ribs, John’s attention was pulled back to the old ink peeking out from beneath the band of her top. Text, blurred and flattened enough to be years old, and too obscured to decipher.

“Thought I’d be your first.” The brunette murmured.

“Jealous?”

Yes.

“Don’t be ridiculous. What’s it say?”

“‘The Mountains Are Calling’.”

A sickening wave of dread passed over the Baptist. The rock forming in his throat, icy and bitter and seizing him against any reply.

The mountains are calling.

Jacob. Joseph. The Trials. Atonement wasn’t the final step. Handing her over to his brothers was the final step.

He got what he came for, but the woman in his arms wasn’t the trophy intended for him.

He was saved. He’d redeemed himself. He’d completed his task and Joseph would permit him beyond the gates. That was all he was supposed to do. That was enough.

That had to be enough.

“‘And I Must Go’.” John completed quietly.

Cora tilted her head a little, not quite looking at him - almost like she was trying not to. “You know John Muir.”

“Not enough to warrant a photo on the bedside table.”

“Shut up.”

There was nothing convincing about the chuckle he offered. He was too busy observing her, studying the side of her face. Committing her to memory as if he hadn’t spent years acquainting himself with every spot and micro-expression.

“Maybe working for you will be bearable.” She murmured, and John’s heart only sank further. "If I don't manage to arrest you."

The mountains are calling.

She still had no idea that all the promises he’d made her had been fabricated. That she wouldn’t be staying. That he’d lied to her.

The mountains were calling. In a few days time, she’d know it. She’d despise him. She’d be taken off his hands and he’d assume his regular duties once again.

He’d saved both of them.

Cora’s thumb absently grazed back and forth on his knee. Ignorant. “Can I ask something?”

It took everything in him not to mirror the action against her skin.

“Of course.”

“Can I start next Monday?”

"What happened to you being such a workaholic?"

"To be honest with you, I'm really fucking tired."

She’d be incredible. Jacob would love her. Joseph would be proud. John had accomplished something near-impossible for his family, and even if the Deputy hated him - even if she forgot him entirely, he was content with the knowledge that he’d have brought her to salvation.

Even if they never saw each other again, he’d know that she’d passed through the gates. That she’d climb to the surface once the world had been scorched clean. She’d rebuild, and marry, and have children, and he’d do the same.

Hopeful anticipation and the agony of longing had never felt so similar before.

“Fine.” John smiled, giving in, sliding his fingers up her arm and coaxing a stray lock of hair out of her face. There were no promises he’d be able to do it again after this. “But on one condition.”

“What?”

“Spend those days with me.”

Cora stirred, angling to peer up at him out of the corner of her eye. She smiled crookedly.

“Deal.”

#far cry 5 #john seed #cora stammos #far cry 5 fanfic #far cry 5 oc #john seed x female deputy #all hail cora's big fucking muscles #no beta we die like men

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ka-writes · 3 years

Text

——————

Notes: I felt evil..

Also cross country sucks, now I feel sick.

But I gift longish chapter!

——————

Incase you missed:

Chapter 1:

Chapter 4:

——————

Inspired by:

Humans are Space Velociraptors

By:FreshRoses_InMyGarden_NeedTheRain

Some kids come from storks, others come from crashed spaceships

By: mmmajora

Home Again, Home Again

By: teeth_eater

All works can be found on Ao3

——————

Warning: trauma flash backs, cussing, mentions of character death, fear.

——————

Chapter 5: Rocky Road

——————

Techno certainly didn’t expect Tubbo’s sudden outburst. Still Techno sort of expected bitterness towards the human.

The droneling marched off presumably to go to the garden. He shoved Wilbur out of the way and continued speaking gibberish.

“What’s with Tubbo?” The phantom asked, casting worried glances towards the door.

“He just threatened the human.” Techno said as if it wasn’t the most stupid move on Tubbo’s part. Wilbur’s eyes grew wide and he attempted to run to the holding cell, only to be stopped by Techno’s hand on his shoulder. The phantom sighed before turning towards the guard.

Silently the pair made their way to the common room. Flicking on the illusion projector, and turning the channel with the ISF news. Techno opened a novel not paying any mind to the news reporter who was going over the case that Techno had just escaped.

There weren't any further advances on the story other than what they knew. The ship had crashed on Omar, a nature preserve, which led the ISF to find eight human bodies and twelve recognized crew members. Though there were fourteen to begin with, not that the news knew that of course. The ship was also deemed as a poacher ship and not much else was discovered.

After the story was covered a different news reporter came on screen. He was shifting his papers nervously and glanced down every so often. This caused Techno to close his novel and pay attention to the illusion.

“Just one day ago, one of the Dream Team crew members quit.” The news reporter took a shaky breath before continuing, “Today the crew has reported that the ex-crew member had taken one of the humans they were using for testing.” A picture of Tommy appeared on screen, “This is what the human looks like. We advise citizens to be on the lookout for this man,” a picture of Wilbur popped onto the screen, “and the human. If you see either one in public do not engage and immediately report it to one of your stationed guards.” The man finished and Wilbur immediately flicked off the TV.

Him and Techno shared a glance of pure shock. Wilbur shed a couple blue tears and immediately started panicking. The guard wrapped his brother until a tight hug and fought off the voices chants of “NOT SAFE”. Silence drew the pair into an unsteady atmosphere.

——————

“Honestly that kid is a burden. I don’t know why you think we can take care of him.” A lady said, fury wasn’t hidden behind a fake smile at this point. The man standing next to her nodded silently.

“Ma’am, I don't understand what you’re saying.” Another lady responded, patience running thin.

Tommy held back the tears that were threatening to fall. His lip was already bleeding and his fingers felt raw. His bruises were itching uncomfortably under his tight shirt. He was starting to overheat, yet kept his jacket wrapped around him protectively.

“What I am saying is, we don’t want him, and I doubt anyone else will.” The lady started, “That kid is a nuisance. He makes our children look problematic, when in reality he is the problem child. I don’t understand how his parents put up with him for so long.” The lady finished.

“Only my mother put up with me,” Tommy thought, “my father couldn’t spare me a glance without yelling at me..”

He sat in the waiting room for what felt like hours before making the decision. The one that caused him to live on the streets.

He took his bag and sprinted out of the facility. He just kept running, nowhere to go and no money to use.

….

Suddenly it was a different night. He was sitting on a park bench looking at the stars. He was somewhere in Colorado, not sure how he made it here, but here he was. He breathed in the fresher air and pushed himself up.

He turned left then right then another left. At this point he was on one of those nature paths that seemed to be everywhere.

He sat in a field. Wasn’t it night?

A light and a huge gust of wind was the only response he got.

Then footsteps. A distant scream. Then cold sharp pain accompanied by a void of darkness.

He woke up in a cage..

He shot up in bed.. His head throbbed, but there was no point in sleeping it off.

So he got up. He hobbled over to the bookshelf and looked at the weird games and toys. His eyes fell on what he presumed to be a stack of cards and a pen of sorts.

It took an hour to label all the cards, but when he finally did he played a game of solitaire. Then another and another. By the time he finished the sixth one he was bored.

He went back to inspecting the bookshelf. The middle shelf had jigsaw puzzles.. didn’t Clem like puzzles?

He picked out what he presumed to be a flower field. There were a bunch of blue sunflowers.. wasn’t that her favorite flower?

Tommy sat on the floor creating a puzzle his sister would’ve absolutely adored. Silent tears slipped down his cheeks every once and a while. Only to be hastily wiped away.

——————

His eyes felt like they were glued shut. They attempted to sit up only to find creaks in their back and neck.

After a minute he sat up. His mind was still foggy from sleep, but he made his way to the security office, ready to work through his sleep deprived state.

Before they even left the room Phil told them to go back to rest. Ranboo obliged, and closed his door.

Having no work left he decided to write down as much information as he could about both Earth and Tommy.

Surprisingly they were able to recall a lot of information from the night before. That usually didn’t happen..

Once they wrote an entire dictionary on both topics, they tried the door again.

Phil, once again stepped in front of them, “Mate, I really think you should rest.”

“I know, but I am hungry. Can I at least have lunch?” Ranboo felt like a child once again, but knew it always worked with the captain.

After Phil rolled his eyes, Ranboo practically skipped to the kitchen. He grabbed some of the leftovers from last night and popped it into the insta-heater. Making two plates of food.

After the food was ready he looked down either hallway. Phil was preoccupied with Wilbur in the common room. Deciding it was the best time to sneak to his friend, he made his way to the holding cell. Only to be stopped by none other than Techno himself.

“Oh! H-hi Techno..” Ranboo said awkwardly.

“What are you doing?”

“I-I was just getting Tubbo some lunch!” Ranboo cringed at their own lie. Only to be met with a raised eyebrow.

“Ok I was gonna visit Tommy.” Ranboo caved. That was the right answer as Techno nodded and let Ranboo pass.

“You’re only giving him lunch right?” Techno inquired.

“Er- that and talk a bit.. I mean that was my original plan.”

“Then I will stay with you.” Techno left no room for debate.

Ranboo nodded and approached the cell, setting the plate on the automatic tray. Techno stood in a small hallway allowing his presence only to be known to Ranboo.

Tommy was sitting on the floor putting together a landscape puzzle.

With what they saw, their curiosity intrigued them.

“Can I go in?” He asked first to Techno who shifted off of the wall.

“Only if I am in there.” Ranboo nodded and turned to Tommy who was busy with the puzzle.

Ranboo knocked on the window once. Tommy’s head shot up before the human stood up and approached the window.

“Hello!” Ranboo chirped, “I can see you’re working on a puzzle! I would love to help if you want? Me and my friend won’t go in if you don’t want me in there. But just so you know I brought lunch!”

Tommy stared at the enderian before answering. He was clearly debating the options.

“Only if Techno doesn’t talk.” Was the only response either got.

With that they grabbed the food and let the door open. Techno entered first, immediately going to the back chair and pulling out a novel. Ranboo handed Tommy a plate and sat next to the strange human.

It didn’t take them long for them to start rambling. Both about everything and nothing.

Surprisingly Ranboo lost all fear that should’ve been gripping them, and felt comfortable sitting with one of the most dangerous creatures in the galaxy.

——————

“So people are looking for you?” The captain asked, impatiently tapping his foot against the metal floor.

“To put it simply, yea..” Wilbur said pretty much losing all confidence within the span of an hour.

The caption responded with a sympathetic look and wrapped his son in another tight hug. Wilbur didn’t pull away this time. He melted into comfort.

After a minute the elder pulled away, “How about you watch one of those documentaries you like. I will make some iced fluff and join you in a bit.” The phantom nodded and trugged himself over to the common room sofa. Turning on the illusion and flicking to one of the only things the ISF was allowing people to view from Earth, Netflix.

He skimmed the documentary section and came upon one that was about the Ocean. Three minutes later he was completely into it.

Phil returned with two bowls of iced fluff. Wilbur dug into the sweet treat. Phil sat next Will and wrapped a wing around him, to which Will leaned into the embrace.

——————

“So what’s your favorite treat?” Ranboo asked, after he got another piece Tommy wasn’t able to get.

Tommy scoffed, mumbling about how he was just about to try that spot before answering the question, “I love Rocky Road Ice Cream. My mom made it without nuts so it is far superior to anything anyone would get from a store.” Tommy was satisfied with his answer and tried another piece.

“Hmm.. What is ice cream?”

“It’s a sweet frozen cream of sorts.”

“Oh so like iced fluff?”

“No idea, I would have to try it first..”

Both continued the conversation mumbling about other different foods and what not, before falling into a comfortable silence.

Tubbo was absolutely furious at the scene. He sprinted off to the garden where he slammed the door and melted to the floor.

When was the last time anyone had a conversation that was about everything and nothing with him?

He hated the fact he was jealous over a fucking human.

Tomorrow was the day he would prove the human wasn’t all he seemed to be. That the human was nothing more than a monster.

——————

Chapter 5-End

Words: 1826

——————

Notes: I still have a few filler chapters, but am getting there!!

Go take care of yourself, love ya!! <3

Reminder likes are appreciated but reblogs are even better! (Suggestion make a side blog where you just spam creators works... just saying, I have one..)

Also my layout for chapters has changed a bit. I have the last chapter at the top and the next one at the bottom.. and no I am not doing the inspired by on Ao3, simply cause it’s easier for people to see it in the first few, I am keeping it here tho, cause I know people aren’t really gonna see my first chapter right away. I will be keeping the link to the first chapter at the top as well just not the middle ones.

——————

Tubbo has evolved in to

J E L L Y B E E

——————

Chapter 6:

#tubbo #dream smp fanfiction #sbi au #my writing #my fanfic tag #wilbur soot #tommy mcyt #ranboo #philza #reblog #space au #angst #little bit of fluff #humans are space orcs

25 notes · View notes

olivarryprompts · 3 years

Text

Fanfic Friday #6

Welcome to Fanfic Friday! Each Friday I will post a new fanfic here and on A03. Enjoy x

Read and save it on A03 at https://archiveofourown.org/works/32370130

{Peter Parker’s Field Trip to Stark Industries}

Ships: peppertony, wandanat, sambucky

Warnings: mild anxiety, swearing

Status: married or dating

Wc: 3,281

“-and so that wraps up this lesson. Your homework is to do this worksheet, please hand a sheet back to everyone. I have a quick announcement, and it is very exciting. Given that this is one of the most advanced classes we offer, the school has arranged for us to have a field trip!”

Peter refocused on the word field trip. He didn’t have a good track record for those.

“We will be going to Avenger’s Tower! This is a very exclusive opportunity and you all should be very excited-”

No, no, no, no, this couldn’t be happening to Peter. Not now. Oh god. He had a suspicion this was set up by his basically-father. He was going to kill Tony. His teacher went on to blabber about permission slips and NDAs.

“Class dismissed. Please hand your forms in tomorrow as the field trip is on Friday.”

FRIDAY? How could it be so soon. Peter wanted to die. He headed for the door, but was stopped in his tracks by Mr. Blaze calling his name.

“Yes?” he said, turning around. The class had mainly cleared out by now.

“Peter, you're a good kid, and I understand not being the most popular student in school, but we need to talk about the lie you made up about working at Stark Industries.”

“But the internship is re-”

“This field trip is a great opportunity, and I do not want your lies ruining it for yourself or your classmates. Please do not mention it whilst we are there, or there will be serious consequences.”

“It’s a real intern-”

“Please Peter. You should know better than this. See you tomorrow.”

He was tired and fed up of school when he headed into the hallways to see his best friend.

“Hey,” Ned said, meeting him in the hallway.

“Hey,” Peter replied weakly.

“What’s up? Something happened?”

“Nah, just that field trip.”

“Oh the one to Stark Tower! It’s going to be so fun!”

“Right..”

“You’re not excited? I know you work there and stuff, but still.”

“Hmn uh yeah. No it was more Mr. Blaze being a bitch,” he replied, half lying.

“Still thinks you're lying about the internship?”

“Unfortunately.”

“Wanna come over to mine? Build some lego?”

“Nah, got to be home. Too much work to catch up on with all the patrolling I’ve been doing.”

“Gotcha. Well, see you tomorrow.”

“Yeah, yeah see you.”

Peter walked to the carpark expecting to find Happy in his black SUV. He was, instead, met by Black Widow.

“Nat?”

“Hey spider boy.”

“What are you doing here?”

“Figured I’d pick ya up and bring you home. Had a second free.”

He jumped into the passenger seat of the jet black convertible.

“How was school паук?”

“Не очень хорошо,” he said easily slipping into Russian. (Not very good)

“Зачем? что-то случилось? (Why? Did something happen?”)

“Да. У нас есть производственная практика в Stark Industries. Что было бы не так уж и плохо, но мой глупый учитель не думает, что я действительно проходил там стажировку, поэтому он отругал меня. Плюс мое паучье чутье сегодня сильно пошло на убыль.” (Yes. We have a field trip to Stark Industries. Which wouldn't be so bad, but my stupid teacher doesn't think I really have an internship there, so he told me off. Plus my spider sense were going off so much today.)

“бедный ребенок. Я могу чем-нибудь помочь?” (Poor kid. Anything I can do to help?)

“Убить Tony за это? (Kill Tony for setting this up?”)

“Нет, детка. Сожалею." (No can do kiddo. Sorry.)

“Разве ты не можешь рассказать другим Мстителям? Особенно папа.” (Can you not tell the other Avengers? ‘Specially Dad.)

“Я не обещаю.” (I won’t, promise.)

"Спасибо.” (Thanks.)

They’d arrived at the tower. There was more to it than he was telling. Ever since he’d moved into the tower, he’d been his safe space. It was his and his families. And he knew it was supid because so many people used it, but still. It felt awful for people from his school to come there. Peter pulled his security card out of his bag, scanning it.

“Peter Parker-Stark, clearance level Alpha 5, all access. Hi baby boss,” Friday, the building's AI called out, “Shall I tell Mr. Stark you’re home?”

“Yeah sure. I’m going straight to my lab, though.”

“Okay sir. Morgan would also like to inform you that she is looking for you.”

“Send her down to the lab.”

“As you wish.”

He hopped in the lift and allowed Friday to take him to floor 89. It was his personal lab. Oren, he’d reprogram Karen, allowed him entry through the glass door.

“Hello Peter, welcome back. What would you like to work on?”

“I’m going to do some work on my web shooters. Play my “workin after school” playlist on, please.”

“Yes, sir.”

He worked peacefully on his shooters design and mechanics for about 30 minutes before Oren alerted him that Morgan was coming up.

“Morgan Stark is requesting entry.”

“Granted.”

The door opened and revealed his basically little sister.

“Hey Mo,” he said, picking up the little girl, “Who let you roam around all on your own?”

“Mummy sent me up,” she smiled.

Peter nodded.

“What are you working on Petey.”

“I’ll show you,” he said, placing Morgan on his work table. He’d quickly made sure there was nothing that could hurt her.

“Web shooters?” she guessed.

“Yep. See I wanted to make them even more efficient so I changed the gears and trigger mechanism.”

She nodded knowingly. She was very smart for her age.

“Nice! Can we build our robot?”

“Sure thing. Oren, pull up the files for Petey-Pie and Morgana’s Robot.” He’d let Morgan handle the name for their creation.

Peter went and grabbed the box that had all their pieces in it. Being careful around the young girl, they continued to work on building the robot, Peter teaching her little things on the way.

So he had a normal evening. Did some fun work, some homework, ate dinner with the lunatics called the avengers, and went to bed.

“If it isn’t my two favorite small children!” Tony said, entering his lab.

“Daddy!” Morgan said, running into her father’s arms.

“Oren, I thought I told you to lock Dad out.”

“Unfortunately your father runs the building, so I could not follow your wanted protocol.”

“Love you too kid.”

“You set up the field trip.”

“Field trip?”

“Yeah. My school’s coming here on Friday!” Peter said, looking up from his work.

“Really? Nope wasn’t me. It was likely someone from PR, kiddo. You do go to one of the best STEM schools in the country.”

Tony had a point.

“Right...sorry.”

“It’s good, kid. What’s got you so wound up about it?”

“Daddy, I’m going to Mummy.”

“Okay kiddo, Friday take little Potts to bigger Potts,” he said with a smile.

“Yes sir.”

Once Morgan left, Tony asked again, “So wanna talk about it?”

“Just, just this is home. My home. And I know that’s stupid because it’s a fuckin 100 floor tower, but I know it. I know it so well, and I just don’t really want kids from my school here. I know I can’t gatekeep a building bu-”

“Hey, hey, it’s not stupid. It makes sense. This place is home and you don’t want them messing with any part of it. I bet most kids in your class wouldn’t love it if people came into their home for a field trip.”

“Yeah. And i-its my safeplace. From everything.” Everything being all the people he lost. His parents and uncle and aunt.

“I get it. Want me to have Pep cancel the trip?”

“N-no, no. All the kids in my class were so excited.”

“Always so selfless,” Tony smiled, “When is it again?”

“Friday.”

“Kiddo, I promise it’ll be fine. If anything, anything happens just get Fri to call me or Pep. Most of the avengers will be around too so you can call ‘em too.”

“Yeah. Thanks. They’ll just try to embarrass me, though,” Peter laughed.

“They will. Do I need to sign something?”

“I’m just going to have Mum do it because her signature is less recognizable.”

“Yeah, okay. Your teachers still don’t believe you?”

“How did you know th-”

“Come on kid, I’m Tony Stark.”

Peter smiled, “Fair enough. Yeah they don’t. I mean they will after the trip.”

“Yeah, that’s the bright side.”

“Yeah.”

“Okay, I’ll leave you to it then. Don’t stay in here too late.”

The night before the field trip he was so nervous. He ended up eating dinner in his lab. Pepper complained but Tony just told her he’d had a long day and deserved a break.

He knew he should have gone to bed but as each hour passed, he got more and more anxious about the trip. He needed something to take his mind off it, so he just kept working and working. Suddenly it was seven in the morning and he needed a shower. Finishing his eighth coffee of the eve, he headed to the 91st floor where he stayed. Hoping that neither of his parents would notice his all nighter he crept into his room.

After getting ready for school, he made his way back out of his room.

“Morning,” Pepper greeted him, “How was last night?” She wore a knowing smile as she continued to tap on her computer, presumably doing work.

“Fine,” he smiled, “Don’t tell dad.”

“I won’t. You're turning into him, though.”

“What else was expected?”

Pepper just smiled, “Sam and Bucky had loads of pastry delivered to the main kitchen if you wanna pop in there.”

“Yeah, sounds good. Thanks.”

“By sweetie, have a good day at school.”

“Thanks. Love you.”

“Love you too, hun.”

Peter jumped in the lift taking him up two floores to the Avengers hang out space.

“Spiderling!” Sam and Bucky greeted

“Old Man, bird boy,” he smirked.

“You look like shit, паук,” Nat said from the sofa.

“Thanks,” he said, putting a few of the delicious looking treats onto his plate. He also grabbed himself another cup of coffee. He plops himself down next to Nat on the sofa.

“Did you not sleep again? You look like hell.” Tony said, entering the kitchen to get himself another cup of coffee.

“Right back at you dad.”

“Fair.”

Steve entered, coming back from his run.

“Hey,” he said, addressing the room, “God kid, you look like yo-”

“OKAY NEXT PERSON TO TELL ME I LOOK SHIT IS GETTING IT!”

“Oh sorry,” Steve said, rolling his eyes. Clint came in with Pietro at his side, “What’s this about Peter looking shit?”

“I hate you all,” he said, finishing his last bite. He laid down on the sofa.

“Oh ah kid, something I needed to tell you. Right, you can stay here. No need to go to school and back. Pepper wrote a note saying you’d meet at the school because you had a doctor's appointment or some shit.”

“Why is spider boy here?” Sam asked.

“School field trip.”

“Only you Parker,” the White Wolf laughed.

“No embarrassing me, please,” he begged.

“Hell no, this is a great opportunity,” Sam said, looking over to bucky.

“I won’t,” Nat said with her hands up.

“I’m in, team embarrass Peter,” Clint said, high fiving Bucky and Sam. At that moment, Wanda walked in heading straight for her girlfriend’s arms. Nat happily let her fall into her lap.”

“What’s wrong with you?” Nat asked with some level of concern.

“Everything,” Wanda said.

“Drama queen,” Pietro scoffed. Peter closed his eyes and let the conversation happen around him. At some point, Tony had left. Clint had gone off to train with the Dumb and Dumber, and Steve claimed he had a mission brief.

Friday’s voice startled him, “Peter, I recommend you head downstairs as your class is arriving in 5.”

“Five what?” Peter questioned.

“Four,” The AI continued.

“A LITTLE MORE WARNING WOULD BE NICE!”

Peter grabbed his shit and jumped into the private elevator as fast as he could. Luckily, he was in the lobby mere moments before the class entered. He pretended just to be standing around.

“Peter,” Mr. Blaze called, “Please come and join the class.”

Peter nodded, spotting his best friend amongst the crowd.

“Hey,” Ned greeted.

“‘Sup.”

“Good morning everyone,” said the tour guild, “My name is Tamiko Hiroki and I will be taking you on your tour today. To start, I will be giving you all badges. When I call your name please step up and collect it.”

She made her way through the basket and by the time she was done only one student had not received a badge.

“Hey, Peter didn’t get a badge,” Cindy Moon, a kind girl in his physics class, called.

“Apologies, there doesn’t seem to be one in here for a Peter.”

“Uh I-i, I have m-my own. Thanks Tamiko.”

“Oh okay, cool. Please follow me to security.” The class seemed shocked. Was the kid telling the truth about his internship?

“So, there are many different levels of pass here. Guests get Beta levels 1-5 depending on what they are doing. Then there’s Omega’s who are interns and such. Next is the scientist and important employees with Zeta. Finally there’s Alpha for major important roles such as department heads. The top level, Alpha 5, contains the most important people like the Avengers who live in the tower and CEO Pepper Pots.

“Tamiko Hiro, Clearance level Beta 5.”

“Don’t worry everyone, that's Friday, the AI who runs the building. Just keep passing through.”

“Philip Maiko, Clearance level Beta 1.”

“Michelle Jones, Clearance level Beta 1.”

Peter headed towards the back, allowing all the students to go in front of him. He prayed they didn’t hear his security protocol. The rest passed through with Beta 1. Then, Peter came up.

“Peter Parker-Stark, clearance level Alpha 5, all access. Hi baby boss,” Friday, the building's AI called out, “Shall I tell Mr. Stark you’re home early?”

“I’m on a field trip, Fri. No need to tell D-Mr. Stark. Thanks.”

The class, once again, looked shocked.

“Why does Penis Parker have all access?” Flash called to Tamiko.

“I do not believe I have clearance to disclose that information, but Peter here may answer,” Tamiko said, glaring at Flash.

“I mean I’ve said it before. I am a personal intern of-”

“PETEY!” Bucky yelled, giving him a hug from behind.

Deflated, he responded, “Hey Buck.”

“Is that all I get?

The two settled on one of the many sofas in the lab. Pete’s head in Tony’s lab.

“Sorry about that, Pepper explicitly told all tours to stay off this level, but it seems as though her assistant made an exception because she thought it was okay as you were on the tour. Pepper fired her.”

Only his mum, “She didn’t have to do that.”

“She was furious.”

“Oh I’m sure.”

“I know this is your safe space, so-”

“It’s okay. No one came in.”

“Yeah.”

“You feeling any better?”

“Just tired. Thanks.”

“Always kiddo. You wanna go upstairs? Take a nap?”

“Sure.”

#mcu fanfic #irondad #tony stark #peter parker #wanda maximoff #natasha romanoff #wandanat #pepper pots #peppertony #morgan stark #sam wilson #bucky barnes #sambucky #family fic #found family #peter parker field trip

47 notes · View notes

aviya932 · 3 years

Text

I’ve been thinking whether to write it or not. On one hand this is super important, on the other hand people don’t really care and I’ll probably get hate for it. But this has to be said and I’m gonna do it. This is really long but if you really want to understand what is happening in Israel right now- this is it

I live in Israel, and for the last 48 hours we have been under rapid missile attack. Hamas, which is a terror organization, have been shooting constantly at civilian cities and houses, while at the same time there have been various riots in mixed cities- by which i mean cities that have both Jewish and Islamic population- that in normal days live in co-existence. You have to understand a couple things right now before you come at me:

I don’t talk about high tension cities such as Jerusalem. This is Lod, Ramle, Jaffa and Haifa among others. Those are cities that truly are peaceful 90% of the time and I will talk about Jerusalem and Gaza so just stick with me.

THIS IS NOT A POST ABOUT WHOSE LIFE IS MORE IMPORTANT OR VALUABLE!! Living in Gaza sucks under normal circumstances but living in Sderot is not much better. There is no competition on misery and trust me as a person that actually live in Israel and knows what it’s like here on the day to day that we are well aware on how it’s like in Gaza.

this site REALLY likes to talk about experiences and how when you live through a unique event no one can talk for you about that because they don’t really know what its like. so right here right now it is my experience. You are welcome to ask follow up questions, you may send me a message to learn more or to disagree with a certain point. But if you don’t live here, even if you are from a neighbor country, then you don’t know what’s it like and i wish to god you will never know.

I don’t have all the articles right here with me, because most of the are in Hebrew and I’m writing this really quickly. So if there is interest I’ll give references and I’m really sorry for any typos here.

Here is a brief timeline of Monday, April 10. I’ll try to stick to as many events without being partial, and for contest there have been two major events on that day:

It is still Ramadan- which means that religious Muslims were on temple mount.

It was also Jerusalem day- which I have no idea how to translate but celebrates the liberation of the Jewish people and the old city from the Jordan army, and is an Israeli holiday in which it is custom to go to Jerusalem so there were a lot of Jewish people at the Kotel.

There’s a neighborhood in eastern Jerusalem called Sheikh Jarrah, in which there is an ongoing legal fight over ownership and governance. On April 10 there wad supposed to be a sitting in court about evicting Arab familiars. It was decided to postpone because of the tension but there has been many rallys over the topic.

During the Ramadan there has been a lot of tension, so the Israeli police have declared that no Jewish person will get on temple mount at that day. it made people mad, since it is a sacred location for us as well, and some groups have threatened to climb anyway. As far as I know no Jew have managed to get there, since things escalated quickly. Like i said, this month was very tensed, and when the cops hears that the Muslims in Al-Aqsa Mosque were hoarding stones they have decided to go inside. this was at about 08:30-09:00 AM. Since the mosque is right above the kotel this was very worrying but during the chaos there have been injuries- 21 cops and dozens of Palestinians. Stun grenades and stones. Hamas have given an ultimatum- either the cops get off the mountain by 18:00 or they shoot rockets at Jerusalem, which at the time is filled with as much Muslims as Jews. During the day there have been terror attacks against Jews that came to the city for celebrations and for the flag parade that was planned to start at 16:00 and to end at the kotel. there was a lynch against 3 Jews at sha’ar ha’ariot (lion gate. a lynch that was depicted by the media as the drivers’ fault and as a running over. the truth is that the driver tried to escape the stoning, hit a cement half wall and continued to be hit until a cop came to his rescue) and a 7 month old girl was hit at the head by stones.

by 18:00 Hamas fired 3 barrages toward Jerusalem. And this is the part when i can tell you first-hand. because I was there, because I could not believe that they will shoot at their own people. There were SO MANY PEOPLE at the time from BOTH SIDES. this is a precedent- until then every single shooting was aimed at Jewish city and never at Muslims.

HAMAS SHOOT AT CIVILIANS IN JERUSALEM, A CITY THAT IS CONSIDERS HOLY FOR EVERYONE, DURING THEIR OWN HOLIDAY. THEY SHOT MISSILES AT A CITY IN WHICH MUSLIM ARABS LIVE. THEY SHOT BECAUSE THE POLICE WERE TRYING TO STOP MUSLIMS FROM THROWING ROCKS AT JEWISH PEOPLE WHO DIDN’T EVEN TRY TO GET ON TEMPLE MOUNT. AND YOU KNOW WHAT THE WORST THING IS? THE FACT THAT INTERNATIONAL NEWS IMMEDIATELY STARTED BLAMING THE ISRAELI GOVERNMENT AND POLICE AND COMPLETELY REMOVED ANY RESPONSIBILITY FROM HAMAS AND THE GOVERNMENT IN GAZA. It’s so so easy to blame Israel because Israel is more organized, because our government, while being mostly useless in the last year since we had 5 elections, is built by the peoples’ choice and not by fear, because Gaza is an underdog and we feel for the underdog- and for good reasons. Do not think for a moment that we don’t feel sorry for the people in Gaza. They live under a terrible government that cares more for the Palestinian agenda than their civilians, most Shekels that the Israeli government is transferring won’t reach the people and instead will be taken by Hamas to build bombs, guns, and tunnels. Hamas needs the people to stay underdogs. They will use them as human shields for as long as it gets them sympathy, they will take every opportunity they have to blame Israel and the media is giving them exactly what they want every single time- even Israeli media will twist facts and stories to sound more progressive and ‘woke’ and politically correct. so here are facts for all of you

while it makes me sound like a five year old it’s still true that this time Hamas shot first and unsolicited.

every country that has missiles shot at will, and has the right, to defend itself.

is it okay for civilian casualty? NO. Absolutely no. But don’t any of you dare to use that as a reason for Israeli cruelty. Hamas have sot over 1,000 rockets in the last 48 hours. IDF has attacked about a 150 locations. Hamas is shooting wildly at cities and homes without care who they hit. IDF is targeting senior Hamas figures only. Hamas is shooting from homes and streets. every IDF base that has weapons in will be located outside of civilian location.

IDF is using the “Roof knocking“ technique, and has been using for years. for those who don’t know it- IAF is dropping a non-explosive bomb- a smoke bomb that makes some noise- on top of any location they will hit to inform every single person inside that they need to get out. Only after a few minutes’ waiting will they hit for real. When Hamas is telling us when they will shoot it’s nothing like that. They don’t warn-they threat.

6 Israeli people have died so far. 2 of them were Muslim Arab-Israeli. They do not care who they hit.

the people in mixed cities have been rioting nearly nonstop for 48 hours now while attacking their neighbors, while burning synagogues, cars, homes and restaurants. One of my best friends lives in Lod. they have curfew from 20:00 today until 04:00 tomorrow. Her situations terrifies me more than any bomb because those are people who lived there for years.

not every Muslim and Arab is to blame, and blaming everyone is wrong. BUT ignoring what is happening right now is naive. Do not be blind and do not believe every single thing the media tells you. There are countless videos were Arabs fake death. where they dress as soldiers to fake scenes, where they openly teach their children hate and where their leaders openly lie on live television and get caught.

most of the time people lie because they really believe it, but that only serves the disinformation. Sometimes good intentions only cause more pain and hate.

Israel is not without blame. no one is without blame because life is not a book- there are no 100% good people and a 100% bad people. Life is complicated and so are people and political situations. You have to criticize your sources, and if they paint one side as good and one as bad then you should stop reading them. there are Israeli extremists as well, and far-right movements scare me as much as any Arab riots but no one is working in a vacuum.

the numbers are very different for many reasons. The death and casualties in Gaza is larger for many reasons, but I’ll focus on the most important ones. first, the IDF is more organized and so their bombs are stronger and more advanced. Second, Hamas is intentionally stationed in neighborhoods, schools and hospitals for human shields. third, Israel is using everything they can to protect its’ citizens and pays fortune on Iron Domes. Hamas does nothing to protect the people, and they have the money for that if they wanted since the receive money from Israel, the UN, and various different NGOs. If you don’t bother to protect your own how can you blame others? when people in Israel get hurt because they don’t have shelter they blame our own government.

right now everything here is a mess, and people from outside do not help when they only spread rumors and hate. You don’t live here? you have no clue what is happening. pray for all of us, but first educate your self and read more than one source of news for god sake. If you want the full picture you must read right-side news AND left-side news. Try to understand what is true, try to understand what is an exaggeration, try to understand what both sides are experiencing and don’t just assume that you are the smartest, most educated person just because you support the ‘right’ side. There is no right side. Only A side. So try to stand with us. Stand with Israel and have as much compassion for us as you have for Gaza. We are heading toward a civil war that will not hurt only one side, we have been living like that for years so trust me when i tell you that everyone is tired of how things are. We want peace but we don’t really see it happening anytime soon.

and for the love of god, don’t just send hate. I care about opinions, i want to think about stuff that i haven’t mentioned and to learn from others. Hate comments will not help either of us and will only keep us where we are now, and you trying to hurt me will honestly achieve nothing and will be kinda boring. Sorry for being so blunt but it’s the truth.

#Israel #jewish #jew #ישראל #arabs #jerusalem #ירושלים #standwithus #zionism #ציונות #יהדות #muslims

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mlqcconfessions · 4 years

Text

MLQC Headcanons - “Are you jealous?”

Because Tumblr likes being a butt, the ask sent by nonny was DELETED before I could answer it! But I did manage to read the request in my notifications. Sorry to the anon if it’s a little different than what you had asked

Characters: 4 Main Guys X MC

Prompt: Jealousy over someone getting a little too close to you

Warnings: FLUFF OVERLOAD

Victor

Your relationship with LFG’s CEO was still secret

Of course, you were the one who suggested the idea (he could care less what the press thinks, but didn’t want to compromise your privacy)

You’re actually kind of sad that he puts distance between you two during work (I know I said that, but even when we’re alone in his office?)

He makes it up by kissing you in the elevator (Goldman doesn’t understand why you’re standing so far away from Victor and honestly he doesn’t want to know)

After a few weeks of this “secret dating”, you’re so deprived of Victor that you’re less energetic

He notices this, obviously, and actually feels bad about it

Decides to bring some pudding along with him

He drives up to your company to pick you up, but notices you talking with someone (he lowers the window slightly to hear)

Doesn’t think much of it until he hears the guy asking for your number

And you willingly give it to him?

“This idiot....!”

Victor gets out of his car and walks up to the two of you, hand on your back, and escorts you to the passenger seat (shoots a quick nod back at the guy)

You notice the small bag under your seat and open it, surprised by the small containers filled to the rim with pudding (you waste no time in opening one)

Unbelievable, do I have to ask her myself?

“I never realized you were this careless, MC” (you look up from your pudding)

“What do you mean?”

“Giving your number to a stranger like that? I knew you were a dummy, but to this extent?” (his eyes are fixed on yours as the light turns red)

“Well, he’s going to need his boss’ number, isn’t he? And plus if anything goes wrong with the projects, I’ll need to know”

“....boss?” (Victor nearly misses the turn)

“Yeah, remember Minor? The newly hired one? I thought I told you already...” (your words drown out in his head as he pieces everything together)

“Wait, Victor...are you being jealous right now?” (he doesn’t like that your eyes are lighting up of all times for her to be observant)

He stops at another red light and leans over to lick the pudding off on your cheek (this guy!)

“So what if I am?”

Kiro

You had asked him if he could come for a segment on your show (modeling for some products)

You ask, he answers

Poor Savin has to clean up the mess after Kiro cancelled his ENTIRE schedule

“Miss Chips NEEDS me!” (if you weren’t Kiro’s girlfriend, Savin would’ve destroyed you)

In between shots he always appears at your side with snacks

“You need to be energized, MC!” (actually just needs an accomplice against Savin)

You’re amazed at the 180 difference of this sunshine when he’s with you vs. when he’s filming (he knows you’re amazed)

One of the cameramen calls you over to discuss the recent shots

The two of you discuss how to bring out the best in Kiro (he was fantastic as is, but there was a spark that just lacked)

He notices you slowly inching towards the cameraman, hands on the back of his chair (sunshine boy is pouty; why can’t you notice that your coworker clearly has interest in you?)

You ponder over how this shoot can be better, unaware that Kiro was staring at your every move

“Maybe someone else can be in the shot with him?” (you suggest, looking up to meet his radiating eyes)

“Great idea! MC, you do it!” (he gets up to grab your hand, and leads you to the front of the studio)

“No...I possibly can’t...”

Your arguments are useless as Kiro calls his team over to help you get prepared

3. HOURS. OF PREPARATIONS.

But you step out, beautifully dressed, catching the eyes of everyone in the room, including the very cameraman (this is NOT what Kiro wanted!)

He quickly pulls you towards him, “Trust me, MC” (stops to look at the cameraman before focusing on you)

He stages these elaborate poses to capture your best angles (Kiro, have you forgotten who this shoot is for?)

He sees that the cameraman is at a loss for words at your beauty (can’t blame him, but still)

For the last shot Kiro leans down and softly blows into your ear, causing you to profusely blush

He looks at the cameraman one last time before leaning down again to whisper

“Don’t be so cute in front of other guys, you’re making me jealous”

Lucien

He’s used to having students come up to him and flirting with him

Of course, it doesn’t faze him at all (but he does enjoy seeing your reactions when he flirts back)

Never thought the tides would turn against him

He sees another student walking up to you during lecture

“Is this seat taken?”

“No, go ahead!”

Lucien’s gaze lands on the student, his face flushed while pulling out the chair to sit next to you (......interesting, of all the seats?)

He looks around the room to find the tens of empty seats in the hall (you were oblivious to his advances that’s my girl)

He resumes the lecture with this in mind, his eyes occasionally darting to you

Obviously the student had no interests in the lesson, but just towards you

But you offer to lend your textbook to him, since he didn’t bring it (learning wasn’t his intentions, after all)

He leans closer to you as you push your hair behind your ears

Nothings gets past Lucien’s eyes (It’s the boyfriend radar in him)

“Mr. Smith, can you please explain the effects of rejection on the brain and its relations to physical pain?” (his lips curl to form a smile his eyes definitely weren’t smiling)

The student immediately understood the context, and scoots away from you in embarrassment “I...I don’t know, professor”

You glance back and forth between the student and Lucien, the latter having a look of satisfaction before continuing the lecture

“Jealousy is an unpredictable emotion. It can cause a person to become irrational and............dangerous”

The clock hits 5 PM, and the student darts out of the room as quickly as he came in

“Well, I suppose that’s the end of today’s lecture. Have a safe trip home, class”

You pack your stuff to leave when he calls your name

“Ah, Miss MC? Please stay for a bit. I need to talk to you about......preventing misunderstandings”

He locks the door

You don’t get out until 7

Gavin

Your frequent visits to the STF headquarters make yourself famous within the other evol agents

Everyone eyes the two of you as you drop off his lunch

You actually enjoy this situation very much (make his lunches EXTRA cute on purpose He blushes everytime he opens the box)

He is called in by one of the mission leaders to discuss their next plans

He squeezes your hand before heading over to a conference room

You stare at his deliciously chiseled back, unaware that Eli has appeared behind you

Ever since your first meeting with Eli, the two of you have grown considerably close (all you talk about is Gavin, after all)

He often updates you about Birdcop: what he's doing on missions, if he's well, if he got hurt (actually undermines any injuries he sustained during battle)

Eli knows how scary you can get

In return, you tell him about Gavin's cute moments

Like when he got drunk a few nights back and got jealous because you took a selfie with Sparky AND NOT WITH HIM (Eli adds this to his "How to Make Fun of B-7" list)

"I love him more than you do, MC"

"No Eli, he's MY boyfriend!"

The two of you, in your own world, laugh away as the argument over who gets custody of Gavin heats up

Meanwhile, Gavin notices the two of you through the one-way mirror in the conference room

You're laughing? Laughing the dorky, adorable giggle you only showed me? To Eli?

He's unable to focus for the rest of the meeting

He wants to storm out of the room and separate the two of you, but he knows his limits (he doesn't want you to see him acting so unprofessionally)

As soon as the meeting is adjourned Birdcop literally FLIES out the door and hides you behind his back

You're slightly annoyed because your "Things Gavin Says in His Sleep" discussion with Eli was interrupted

Then you realize the small barrier of wind blocking Eli from coming close

“Gavin...are you jealous?”

That was the first time Eli saw Agent B-7 flushed from head to toes (he secretly took a picture, and later showed it to the other agents)

We all love a good fluff

Whose imagine did you enjoy the most? For this post, I honestly can’t choose XD

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hyuniebaby · 4 years

Text

Focus (7)

Pairings: Baekhyun x Y/N x Junmyeon

Warnings: mentions of sex

AU: College student! Baekhyun, Professor! Junmyeon AU, college!au

A/N: I don’t proofread when I post so there might be typos 😅 I’ve been busy with work so I haven’t updated in a while~ If you’re still reading this fic, I just want to say thank you!

@coffee-prince-kyungsoo

You spend the next few days avoiding Baekhyun. The task was extremely hard since you were both in the same program. One time he had his Advanced Biochemistry class just before your Organic Chemistry class in the same room. When you saw him making his way out of the room, talking animatedly to Jongdae, you immediately went to hide behind Seulgi. Lucky for you, you were shorter than her. He wasn’t able to notice you but your sudden movement caught Jongdae’s eyes. He smirks but doesn’t say a word to Baekhyun. Especially not when you were trying so hard to hide.

Jongdae, being Baekhyun’s best friend and roommate, naturally knew about Baekhyun kissing you. As much as he wanted to help Baekhyun out of his misery, he didn’t want to interfere. The last time he did, it went extremely uncomfortable for him as you’ve both been seen by a professor walk out of the janitor’s closet. It ended up with him being shouted on by Baekhyun and being ignored by Baekhyun the whole night when he tried to explain what happened.

Baekhyun, on the other hand, wanted to apologize again but this time for kissing you so suddenly. He honestly doesn’t know what he was doing and why he did it. But how was he supposed to tell you that? “Y/N, I’m sorry I kissed you, I don’t know why I did it.” Uh, no. That doesn’t sound like an apology to him. So despite having seen you many times when you tried to hide from him, he only looks at you longingly and doesn’t try to talk to you just yet. Maybe you weren’t ready to hear it too, he guessed, considering you were going out of your way to avoid him. Not to mention you running after he kissed you. To him, it seems logical to give you some time to process and get over it before he tried to apologize.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

You’ve been so hung up on Baekhyun’s kiss that you neglected your studying. By the time the weekend came, you rejected your friend’s invite to a party. You planned to study the whole weekend at home to catch up with all the lessons you weren’t able to read about for the past few days. You were halfway through your Organic Chemistry notes when someone rings the doorbell. “Delivery for Ms. Y/N!” You hear someone shout.

Huh, you weren’t expecting something to come today, you thought. You went to open the door only to be greeted by a bouquet of flowers. “I’m sorry but I think you have the wrong address,” you tell the delivery man. The “delivery man” lowers the bouquet to reveal his face.

“Junmyeon?” You gasped. The first thought that came to your mind was that the person in front of you wasn’t Mr. Kim today, he was your friend, Junmyeon. He ditched the smart casual outfit and only wore a hoodie and some pants.

“These are for you.” He hand you the flowers. “Can I come in? I wanted to talk to you.”

You guide him to the dining table where your laptop and notebooks were scattered.

“I’m sorry to disrupt you from studying,” Junmyeon says as he scratches the back of his neck.

You respond with a nod as you carefully placed the flowers on the table. You were still quite mad at him for leaving you high and dry the other day.

“I just wanted to say sorry for the thing that happened a few days ago...”

“Oh you mean when you didn’t allow me to cum?”

He smiles sheepishly, flustered at how blunt you were being.

You’re friends with Junmyeon even before anything sexual happened between the two of you so you were open and comfortable talking about it with him than with Baekhyun. “I mean come on, Junmyeon, I understand we all have sexual urges. It’s fine. We’re human.” You ran your fingers through your hair. “But personally I think it’s unfair that you didn’t let me cum,” you sigh.

“I’m sorry,” he says. “I just — my mind got clouded when I saw your hickey. I wasn’t in the right headspace.”

You were used to having sexual affairs, it wasn’t a big deal to you. You’ve had plenty of one night stands over last year with strangers. The only thing that was weird right now was that it was Junmyeon you did it with. A friend. Your professor. So you don’t know how to proceed with this. Same as how you didn’t know how to act with Baekhyun because of what happened to the two of you between the sheets.

It even complicates things when you hear Junmyeon say those last words. He worded it as if he was jealous that you’ve been doing this act with another man. And then you remember how Baekhyun sounds exactly the same the last time you talked and he reacted the same way. How possessive, you thought.

But if they were possessive, you were greedy. You wanted to have them that way again, despite the strain in your “relationships”. You wanted them to touch you and fuck you. Your thoughts were heading in another dangerous path so you cough and try to clear your mind.

“Yeah, whatever, Junmyeon. Just don’t do it again next time.” The words flew out of your mouth before you can even comprehend what you said.

Next time? His eyes widened. Will there be a next time? He sure as hell hopes so. Your mouth was amazing and he wanted to feel you again, but in your pussy next time. This excites him.

You were flustered with what you said. But if you talked right now, you’ll be embarrassing yourself more so you remain quiet. You stare at your notes as if they were the most interesting things in the world. You were hyper aware that he was looking at you. You kept your mouth shut.

Then Junmyeon sighs. “What are you studying, princess?” You blush at the pet name.

“Organic Chemistry.” You say. “I didn’t know it was supposed to be this hard.” The sexual tension now gone as you talked about your studies. “I mean, I know some basic stuff because of the training we received for the quiz bee last year but some of these things are really hard to understand. My professor won’t even teach us properly. She makes us answer all the problem sets in the book every meeting. How can you even answer something that you haven’t learned yet?”

Junmyeon looks at you softly. “I think I can help you with that. Although, I’m not as good in Organic Chem than I am with Biology...”

Your eyes sparkled at what he said. “That’s alright! You know I need all the help I could get. I’m pretty sure you know that I need a dumbed down version of the lesson if I need to get the hang of this.”

So for the next few hours, Junmyeon helps you study. Being your tutor for over a year, he knows how to get his point across to you so it wasn’t really hard for you to understand what he was saying.

The study session was interrupted once again when you hear jingling of keys. You see your parents standing by the door and you got up from your seat so fast to hug them. “You came earlier! I thought you weren’t supposed to come back until next week.”

“We missed you, darling.” Your mom coos.

“Next week’s meeting was rescheduled so we decided to go back here. How are you sweetheart?” Your father says.

“Everything’s fine. Junmyeon’s here, he’s helping me study.”

On cue, Junmyeon shakes hands with your parents to greet them. Your parents respected Junmyeon because he tutored you for over a year and had significantly improved your grades. They knew you remained friends with him after so they weren’t bothered by the fact that you were hanging out. Your mom invites him for dinner, but Junmyeon politely declines, claiming he still had some paperworks to sign and that only dropped by to help you study. He bids everyone goodbye after a few minutes of small talk with your parents and leaves.

By dinner time, you converse with your parents, asking them about their trip and what they did. In turn, they asked you how was your first week back at school and you internally cringed at the fact that the first week of your school was troublesome. You don’t tell them that though. You just tell them that it went by pretty quickly.

When you’re done with the dishes, you resigned to your room to study again. You studied until the weekend was over. You were a slow learner so you needed to promptly start studying instead of cramming everything the day before a quiz or major exam comes up. It works for you though, you get to learn at your own pace.

The next thing you knew, it was Monday again and you had Bio class. Since you and Junmyeon made up, you were slightly less worried about going to class. The only problem was Baekhyun was there and you don’t know if you should still avoid him or if maybe you should make up with him too...

As you enter the room, you scan for any sign of Baekhyun or Sehun. You release a breath of relief when you realized they weren’t there yet. Having arrived 15 minutes earlier than the start of the class, you sit by the middle row and start plugging on your earphones. You reread the lessons you studied over the weekend.

You were interrupted when someone taps your shoulder. You remove your earphones and look up to see Sehun smirking at you. You roll your eyes at him as he sits beside you.

“Is that the proper way to greet your friend?” He says.

You immediately fake a smile and use a high pitched voice, “Hi Sehun~”

Sehun frowns in disdain and shakes his head. “So... has was your talk with B?” He moves his eyebrows up and down.

“I remember making a promise to you last week? And it goes by ‘I will kill you,’ do you remember?” You smile at him.

“As I’ve said, I’d like to see you try.”

“Can I borrow your hand?” You ask him.

Sehun eyes you warily but gives his hand eventually. You smile and grab one of his fingers and start bending it backwards.

“Ow!” He shouts and snatches his hands away from you. “What a devil!”

You roll your eyes. “Stop overreacting. It wasn’t that bad!”

He raises his brow in response.

“Now that that’s all done,” you start saying, “last week he apologized to me. For — uh, reacting weirdly when he saw me and Jongdae. He explained how Jongdae wanted to ‘seek me out’ when he found out what happened between me and B. And then....”

And then Baekhyun arrives and you immediately shut your mouth. Sehun notices Baekhyun’s arrival but continues to look at you, asking you through his eyes for the rest of the story. But you don’t budge. Sehun figures that you won’t talk if Baekhyun was there so he sighs and pinches his nose in frustration. He hates it when people leave him hanging.

You didn’t expect Sehun to turn around and ask Baekhyun what happened last week. Your eyes widened. You look at Baekhyun and he looks at you. You plead with your eyes, asking him, no, begging him to not say anything to Sehun. But if anything, Baekhyun doesn’t like that Sehun still hangs around with you and that he sits beside you when it was supposed to be Baekhyun’s seat.

So out of spite, he says, “I kissed her.” at the same time that Mr. Kim comes in the classroom. Somehow, Mr. Kim heard what Baekhyun said and figured out that he was referring to you. Sehun, on the other hand, was shocked. He faced you while you buried your face in your hands.

It hasn’t been an hour since you’ve sat on your chair, but you feel like you’re so done for the week already.

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jungshook69 · 3 years

Text

Comforting him

DISCLAIMER: This doesn’t represent the members’ actions or the army’s actions in any manner it’s pure fiction. This is an original work, do not copy.

WORD COUNT: 2.3K

PAIRING/S: Taehyung X female reader

GENRE: Idol x Staff au ; Best friends au

WARNINGS: None

SUMMARY: Being an idol brings an overwhelming pressure on one’s shoulders. And that pressure is heightened when there’s an audience in front of you and you’re in a very vulnerable emotional state. Taehyung needs your help. He needs your comfort. And that’s exactly what you give him.

A/N: This is not necessarily my first fanfiction, but it is the first one I’m ever gonna post on Tumblr! Well hope you guys like it and it does well:) Also I’m sorry in advance if there’s any spelling errors:(

Hi, my name is Min Y/N. I’ve been working as an editorial assistant under Big Hit for a group known as BTS for the last 5 years, ever since BTS had their debut.

I was sitting in my hotel room on my desk eyes fixed on my laptop screen as I watched some of the boys on their own Vlives. Yes this became a part of my job for the last 2 years. I was responsible for watching their Vlives and making sure nothing went wrong. By wrong I meant there were incidents when fans asked questions that were too personal or idols lost their cool on Vlive but Bang PD-nim trusts the boys and I was just assigned to do this as a precaution.

Today only Taehyung, Yoongi oppa and Jin oppa were doing Vlives. Jin oppa wrapped up pretty quickly with his EatJin Vlive segment and signed off. Now the only ones left were Yoongi oppa and Taehyung. Yoongi was bopping along to his own lyrics while Taehyung was just sitting and staring at the camera.

Even though it was just me watching his Vlive, I could almost feel his eyes bore through the screen staring straight into my soul. I suddenly saw Yoongi oppa’s screen go black. I didn’t hear him say anything it just stopped. I texted him asking him if he wanted any help with setting it back up but he said that he didn’t have any problem he actually ended it by saying goodbye and everything. Maybe I didn’t hear him because I was busy staring at Taehyung.

And yes I texted him. I know they don’t really text too many people and very rarely females, but me and Jungkook’s makeup artist Park Min-Young, were the only females from the staff that the boys were closest to and most comfortable with. Personally I am the closest to the ’95 liners Jimin and Taehyung, not just because of the same age but we just get along the best.

Soon I shifted my gaze back onto the only Vlive left, Taehyung. He was leaning over and reading the comments. He remained still for a long time with a blank look on his face.

Soon curiosity got the best of me and I wondered what he was reading and began reading the comments too.

Comments:

@army1: Oh my god your guys 3rd muster performance was amazing!!! I was there Taehyung oppa!!

@army2: Aww I’m broke I couldn’t go T-T

@army3: Taehyung oppa are you okay?

@army4: What happened?

@army5: Didn’t you hear Taehyung cried during the concert?

@army6: Oh my god I cried too T-T

@army7: wHaT?! send me a link aSaP!! T-T

@army8: The concert was just yesterday it’s not up yet!!

I was going through the comments when I heard Taehyung speak up. He looked up at the screen with a serious face. I knew exactly what was gonna happen. He was gonna tell everyone the same thing he told people on the day of the concert. About his grandma.

I was surprised at how calm he was because everyone knew how sensitive he was when it came to his grandmother. He kept a straight face and told everyone about his grandmother. I suddenly heard his breath hitch and looked at him concerned. I knew that face. He wanted to cry but he was holding himself back. I watched as he suddenly picked up his phone and began doing something on there. As soon as he kept his phone back down my phone lit up with a little ‘ding’. I opened it and saw what he had written.

I was surprised he texted me and not Jimin. Without overthinking it too much I quickly put on my hoodie and my white sneakers and put my phone in my pocket and stepped out of my hotel room.

I was on the 2nd floor and got into the elevator to ride to the 4th floor. I reached his door and stopped in front of it. I took a deep breath and knocked on the door. I heard a bit of shuffling on the inside and about 5 seconds later the door opened and my eyes met with his.

“Come in…” he said.

“Yeah…”

I said as I proceeded to take of my shoes.

*A/N: don’t come at me with the whole stinky feet thing y’all where I live its normal to be barefoot in the house*

“Soooo….” I started.

“Here take a seat”.

I sat down on his bed and he pulled up his chair in front of me.

“I want you to know that you can tell me anything okay. Whatever you feel whatever’s been on your mind just pour it out don’t hold anything back. I’m listening okay?” I said trying to comfort him.

With that he burst into tears in front of me.

“Heyy heyy its okay just let it all out its okay” I said softly.

“You must be thinking I’m such a baby right?” he said sniffling.

“No no no no who said showing emotions is being a baby?”

“T-t-thanks.”

I raised my hand to touch his arm to comfort him. As I touched his arm he looked up at me. I thought he felt uncomfortable so I quickly jerked my hand away from his arm.

“I’m sorry.”

“No no no just—“

With that he engulfed me in a warm embrace. And its not like we haven’t hugged before. We have plenty of times. But this was different. He seemed more vulnerable now. He buried his face in my neck and sobbed onto my hoodie. I could feel his tears soak my hoodie but I didn’t mind it at all. My hand instinctively flew up to his back and started rubbing it.

After a while of enjoying each other’s comfortable silence and warm embrace I felt him stir under me. He pulled away desperately trying to wipe away his tears. I pulled my hoodie over my palm and grabbed his face with one hand. Using the other hand I wiped away his tears slowly. We looked into each other’s eyes for a few seconds till I broke the eye contact.

Smiling I said to him, “Are you okay?”

“Y-yeah…”

“Ok good. Lemme get u a bottle of water.”

I stood up and walked over to his side table and picked up his water bottle. I walked over to the bed and sat back down. I handed him the water bottle and he took a sip as I waited for him to finish.

“Don’t look at me I’m a total mess right now.” He said.

“Personally I think you guys look better without makeup.”

He stared at me and the corner of his mouth lifted a tiny bit.

“Yaaahhh there’s that smile.” I said.

“Thank you so much Y/N.”

“Anytime Tae Tae.”

I giggled. I checked my phone. It showed the time 11.00pm. I didn’t realize I had been here for an hour.

“Well are you sure your feeling okay?”

“Yeah much better” he said smiling.

“Ok cool. Its not like I wanna escape or anything but it’s 11 so maybe I should let you sleep and I should be heading back to my room.” I blurt out. Truth being I wanted to stay with him. But I didn’t want to seem too clingy.

“Oh yeah right.” He said with a disappointed look on his face.

I grabbed my phone from beside me and put it in my pocket.

“I’m sorry I soaked your hoodie.” He said.

“Heyy don’t worry about it.”

“Ummm Y/N?”

“Yeah?”

“If you don’t mind me asking how’s your life going? I mean I feel like all we’ve been talking about is me…”

“Yaahh I’m…” I sighed. “…fine.”

“What’s wrong? Is it about the guy your crushing on?” he asked his tone slightly off.

Yes I told Taehyung and Jimin that I’m crushing on a guy but I refused to reveal his name. Well if I would reveal his name to anyone all hell would break loose.

*A/N: I think you know what I mean ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)*

“N-no… I mean m-maybe” I said stuttering, scared to accidently reveal the truth.

“Tell me what’s wrong?” he pressed further.

“Don’t you have to sleep or something?”

“No talk to me.”

“Well I haven’t told him that I like him.”

“Why not?”

“I can’t!”

“Why not?”

“Because—because I just can’t. Let’s just say it’s forbidden or it’s against the rules or something.”

“You’re still not gonna tell me his name huh?”

How can I tell you that the man I’m in love with is you.

“You’re still not gonna tell me his name huh?” he pouted.

“Nope.” I said popping the ‘p’.

“Are you afraid?”

“Yeah, that he won’t like me back, cuz I’m me and he’s…” I sighed. “It won’t work out.”

“What do you mean you’re you? You’re literally one of the smartest and prettiest girls I know. Your kind, forgiving, humble and caring towards everyone around you.” He said practically ranting.

“Aaaaww thank you Tae but correction I’m not pretty… look at me c’mon?!”

“I am looking.” He says in a deep voice.

He stares into my eyes and his hands reached out to my face as he took of my glasses.

“I think you have beautiful eyes it’s a pity I can’t see them well because of your glasses”

“Yaahh that was Jimin’s line!!” I smile.

“But I meant it.”

He said putting on my glasses.

“Oh god it’s so blurry”

He said pinching the bridge of his nose and rubbing his eyes. His gaze didn’t falter once from my eyes. I looked down at my lap trying to avoid his gaze. I could feel my cheeks heating up. I froze when I felt a finger gently lifting my chin up.

And there he was the man that I couldn’t have, the man that I was too afraid to confess too, about to steal my first kiss. He stared at my lips while licking his own. He slowly leaned forward and I closed my eyes waiting for the impact. And then I felt it.

Soft plump warm lips gently brushing against mine. He pulled away to see my reaction and I sat right there with my eyes closed and lips still puckered waiting for his warmth to come back again. He clearly saw me wanting more and leaned in again. This time his hand went to the back of my neck as he pulled me closer to deepen the kiss. He got up from his chair and leaned over me. He began to push me back gently as I felt my back touch the bed and felt him hovering over me. We remained in that position for like barely 10 seconds until the loud doorbell rang.

Me being me, I panicked at the loud sound of the bell and and jerked my head up to sit up and accidently banged my head with Taehyung’s who was hovering over me. I immediately apologized and touched his forehead.

“I’m okay, are you?” he says brushing my forehead.

“I’m fine”

He begins chuckling as he made his way to the door.

“Wait! What if someone sees me here at this time?” I freak out.

“It’s probably just one of the guys relax.”

He opened the door to reveal Jimin look up from his phone.

“Taehyung-ah I saw your Vlive and I cam— oh hi Y/N what’re you doing here so late?

“Taehyung texted me to come over so I did.”

“Oh Taehyung-ah are you okay? Cuz I saw the Vlive…”

“Yeah I’m fine now thanks to Y/N.”

He said biting his lip and smirking at me.

I blushed looking away.

“Anyways it’s pretty late. I just came to check up on you and now that I know you’re okay I’m gonna have to get going. I have practice early tomorrow morning with hobi hyung. I’ll leave you two alone now! Byee!!” he spoke in a blur and left immediately.

As soon as Jimin left I got up from the bed and checked the time, it read 11.20pm.

“I should really get going Taehyung.” I said looking down at my feet unable to meet his gaze.

I started walking towards the door. Suddenly a hand flew from beside me and pushed the door close. I turned around to see Taehyung looking down at me, trapping me between the door and him.

“So your still not gonna tell me his name?” he said, his voice extremely gruff.

“W-who?”

“Aaaww look who’s all flustered.”

“I-I’m… n-not…”

“You know exactly who I’m talking about.”

“Well whoever he is, I think you should tell him that you love him no matter what the rules are. He deserves to know. And if he says anything to hurt you I swear to god I’m going to break his spine in half!”

I think he was trying to be threatening but I found it rather cute. I giggled. Oh Taehyung-ah if only you knew…

“You really think I should tell him?’

“No, be mine…” He mumbled.

“What?” Did I hear him right?

“Y-yes.”

“Ok then I will.”

“Great.” He sighed.

He moved away from me and started walking away towards his bed.

“I love you Taehyung.”

He stopped in his tracks and turned around slowly his gaze fixed on me. I looked down at my feet feeling the heat crawl up to my cheeks. I jerked my head up in shock when I heard what he said next.

“I love you too Y/N.”

With that he walked towards me grabbing my face with his hands as he smashed his lips onto mine as we stood there against his door, not wanting to escape each other’s warm embrace. That’s when I knew that something called true love does exist.

*A/N: I hope you guys liked it:) Smile for me:)*

Don’t forget to follow @jungshook69 for more content:) You can check out more works of mine here. Have a great day:)

#taetae #tae #taehyung #kim taehyung #bts #bts taehyung #bts fanfic #bts fan fiction #taehyung fanfic #fanfic #fan fiction #one shot #oneshot #bts one shot #taehyung fluff

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tailorvizsla · 4 years

Text

A Proper Mandalorian Courtship - Chapter 2

Title: Hurt, Healing, Help Pairing: Paz x OFC, OFC x OMC Word Count: ~2350 Rating: MA Warnings: Cursing, canon-typical violence, crack humor that’s also serious Chapters::Ch 1 | Ch 3 | Ch 4 | Ch 5

📚 My Master List 📚

Notes: This chapter contains potentially triggering material. Warnings for: mentions of past child abuse, past violence, and a lot of cursing. No graphic details, just a passing mention of certain situations that have occurred. The flashback occurs ~ten years before the story is currently happening.

Also, your nickname is Shu'shika. It means tiny disaster. I've been trying to format the HTML for this update on AO3 for two hours now, I don't think I can handle any more of the text popups right now. Also posted on AO3, where you can hover over the stuff in Mandoa or unfamiliar terms to see translations and notes.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes and translations. Also let me know if you want to be tagged or something. @mandalorerose I am so sorry, pls don’t goor me from the server.)

[flashback]

The bright sunlight fills the clearing, bringing a touch of warmth to the smoky, frosty morning air. High up in the trees, the birds flit from branch to branch, watching the proceedings with unabashed curiosity. Occasionally, tiny creatures fight amongst themselves, scolding each other with a flurry of chirps.

Grinning, Paz sidesteps Neten’s blow easily, clamping down on his bracer tightly. Using the other man’s momentum, Paz latches onto Neten’s extended arm and pulls hard, causing him to lose his balance. Once he stumbles forward, Paz gives him a good shove, sending him careening forward into the soft grassy earth. A low ‘ooh’ goes up from the crowd as Neten trips and slams into the ground with a heavy thud. Paz nods, holding back, giving Neten enough time to recollect himself.

“Nice form, good strength,” Paz says, to encourage the younger man. “Let’s go through it one more time. Then we’ll break for water.”

“Sounds good, alor'ad,” Neten says.

“Swing at me,” Paz orders. “And I’ll show you the best way to…”

He trails off when he receives notification that his door alarm has been disabled. His brow furrows as he considers it for a few moments. Neten falters.

“Uh, you still with us, alor'ad?” Neten asks.

“Yeah, sorry,” Paz said. “Swing at me.”

Paz recently upgraded the locking mechanism to keep the kids out of his candy stash. He does not mind sharing, but when six kilos of candy disappear in one week, he has to put his foot down. That, or the other parents would strangle him. Paz shakes away the feeling of unease and catches Neten’s fist in his. Grasping firmly, he halts Neten’s attack, freezing him in place.

“You’re trying to build up momentum from too far away. See how this leaves you open while you're swinging? Get in a bit closer,” Paz says, showing Neten how his previous attack left him vulnerable with a solid blow to the gut. “Stick a bit closer and – “

The door chime goes off again. Then it disables itself a second time. Zeli said she would be busy helping in the kitchen today. Paz frowns.

“Uh, right. When I push you forward, roll into the fall,” Paz says. “It’ll give you some space to work. Now, try it again.”

Neten swings a third time. Paz pushes him harder this time. Instead of falling, Neten curls his body forward and rolls into the fall. He comes up on his feet, but quickly loses his balance. He falls over.

“Shit,” Neten sighs.

“Just takes practice,” Paz says. “Get up, you’ll get it right.”

After walking him through the proper counter a few times, Neten finally manages to roll directly onto his feet and absorb the momentum with his knees. Then Paz turns to the crowd.

“Partner up,” he says. “Neten, you partner up with Fen.”

As he assigns partners, he chooses to place the most advanced fighters with the novices to ensure they teach the others. Paz finds he still cannot shake that weird feeling in his gut. Something nags at him until he decides to go investigate.

“Revala,” he says. “Keep an eye on these idiots for a minute?”

“Sure thing alor'ad,” she says, coming forward. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah…I just need to check on something,” he says. “No more than a few minutes. If they give you any backtalk, you have my full permission to make them run until they drop.”

“Yes, sir,” Revala exclaims gleefully as she turns back to their drilling vod, “Alright, losers, I’m in charge, and I’m going to make you suffer.”

“Gaa’tayl, alor'ad!” someone yelps.

Rousing laughter fills the clearing at the plea for help.

“K’atini!” Paz snaps over his shoulder. Wimps.

He turns toward the entrance to the hideout. Their current home is situated deep in a granite canyon. It was at one point some sort of pirate bolt hole, but over the decades, other Mandalorians had come and gone, making the space larger and adding some basic furniture. It is cramped, but it is well-hidden and easy to defend. Not only that, the family quarters have separate showers, a perk he does not hesitate to abuse. He makes his way down the main hallway, avoiding the fistfight between Din and Terys.

“If you two are going to slap each other like whiny little aruetiise, do it outside,” Paz snaps.

“He ate my uj’ayali,” Din snaps in response. “I was saving that, you dickhead – “

“I didn’t eat your fucking uj’ayali,” Terys grunts as he elbows Din in the side.

Paz shakes his head and continues toward the living quarters. Winding through the hallways, he finds himself surrounded by a throng of scuffling children. He breaks it up with a firm growl and sends the guilty parties to time-out. At long last, he comes to his door. As his hand hovers over the pad, he feels that sense of dread worsen, like a block of lead has suddenly materialized in his belly.

Paz almost hesitates, but he pushes forward. Something isn’t right here. He types in the code and watches as the door silently unlatches and swings open. He steps into the living area, his feet heavy and uncooperative. That feeling in his gut warns him to stay silent.

When he sees Zeli’s boots on the floor, he frowns.

He sees the second pair, hidden just out of sight, at the same time he hears Zeli’s cry. Paz inhales sharply and turns toward the bedroom, thinking that someone is actively forcing themselves on his beloved.

“Yes, Liam!” she cries out, stopping him in his tracks.

Paz can only stare, his stomach roiling violently at the sight of the two figures entwined under the light sheets. For several seconds, he stands there, frozen. Taking in the sights and sounds of their lascivious coupling. The wet slap of sweaty flesh meeting and Zeli’s throaty, animalistic keening. The way her short pink nails dig into Liam’s shoulders. The way he fervently fucks into Zeli, repeating what Paz had done with her just hours before.

“Oh, gods, Liam! Harder, h-harder!” she sobs, her sinewy body arching under his.

“Ni copaani hailir gar,” he pants. “Gedet’ye, cyare."

From here, he can see her digging her heels into his backside. The raised red welts she has left along his spine and shoulders. The livid bite marks along her shoulders.

As the harsh, unpleasant shock starts to set in, he feels his lips and face go numb, a deafening roar filling his ears. His chest tightens as he tries to tear himself away from the lurid scene, only for his gaze to land on the couch.

They had placed their helmets on the seat - her cherry-red helmet next to his deep grey helmet, the forehead ridges pressed together in a sweet kiss. As if to mock him. Paz turns his stinging eyes to the low table. The pieces of their armor are arranged neatly on the table. It is clear to him that the lovers had taken turns stripping each other, piece by piece.

This is not an act of drunken, frenzied passion.

This is a deliberate act of practiced intimacy.

In the years Paz and Zeli have been a couple, building their future together, she has not once asked him to use blindfolds. She has never once asked to break down that one last barrier keeping them from tasting each other’s lips for the first time. Yet here she is, fucking one of their closest friends in his bed. All while stringing him along with the promise that they will be one, that they will remove their helmets for each other for the first time on their wedding night.

How many times has Zeli allowed him to debauch her in their bed? In the same bed where Paz professed his love for her for the first time? The same haven where they spent countless hours in each other’s sweat-slick arms, fantasizing about the warriors they would eventually gift the tribe? How many times has he run his fingers along her breasts and inadvertently dragged his fingers through the dried remnants of another man’s sweat and saliva?

Revolting nausea fills him, that numb feeling creeping through his entire body, leaving him feeling so empty and cold. As his hands begin to shake, he clenches them into fists at his sides, his breath coming in shuddering pants as he struggles to not fucking sob. Bile rises in his esophagus, leaving his throat feeling bloody and raw.

Why?

The question keeps chasing itself through his thoughts as the agonizing knot in his chest threatens to tear him apart. He hears a giggle from the bed as Zeli flips Liam onto his back, the sheets shifting to reveal the delectable curve of her lower half, plump and succulent as she starts to bounce on his cock.

“Come in me, cyare,” she purrs to him.

“A-are you sure? You’re not - not - contraceptive – “

“Paz won’t know,” Zeli laughs. “He’s desperate for kids.”

Those words are the catalyst for his rage, like a lit match dropped into a barrel of volatile jet fuel.

Incandescent rage unfurls explosively in his chest, evaporating the cold sorrow that had once filled him in an instant. He feels his blood pressure and heart rate spike, leaving his vision thin and black and pulsating at the edges. Paz takes one menacing step toward the doorway, his entire body trembling as he struggles to contain the inner maelstrom of hatred.

It would be so, so easy for him to make them suffer, to make them feel the bone-deep agony they have inflicted on him. All he has to do is step into the bedroom. Look at their faces. Break the blood-oath of secrecy they had sworn to uphold a second time. By seeing their faces, he is a witness to their identities, and they will not be given the option to marry.

With just a few more steps, he can destroy them; he can take away everything and everyone they have ever loved. He can make Zeli’s worst nightmare a reality – she will lose her father, her sisters, and her friends. She will have only her lover by her side. Liam will be declared dar’buir by proxy. They will both be exiled in their dishonor and shame.

Suddenly, he sees Zephyr’s gap-toothed, mischief-filled grin and he comes to a grinding halt.

Zephyr was broken when Liam had found him huddled in the burnt-out husk of his ancestral home. Raiders had tortured his family and forced him to watch as they were killed, one by one. After they had taken their amusement, they had beaten Zephyr, leaving the young boy to die alone in the wastes. It was only by pure fortune that Liam had seen the smoke and gone to investigate, thinking it was his prey.

Instead, he had found a mute six-year-old boy wrapped in a ragged, blood-stained blanket, his tiny, emaciated frame covered in a multitude of bruises and lacerations. It took three years of love from the Tribe for the boy to speak again. After those first words, Zephyr had risen from the ashes of his shell, soaring like the celestial starbird.

Zephyr had finally found his voice and his manda, bringing life and light back into his eyes.

His gut wrenches and a new type of agony lances through his heart. It pierces him, wounding him so deeply he physically cannot breathe. He bites down hard on the sides of his tongue to stifle the sob threatening to escape his throat. His teeth break skin and the taste of copper fills his mouth. Paz cannot do it. He cannot be the reason Zephyr has to relive the loss of his family.

He will not be the reason the light leaves Zephyr’s eyes again. No amount of agony inflicted upon him - a grown man - could ever justify harming an innocent child for the sake of revenge.

Paz forces himself to exhale. Blinking, the tears finally fall, burning their way down his cheeks before finally soaking into his beard. Stiffly, he makes his way back to the couch and picks up their helmets, taking Zeli’s in his left and Liam’s in his right.

Acrid bitterness fills the shattered remains of his heart as he looks down at Zeli’s helmet. The paint on the forehead ridge has worn away from the many passionate kisses they have shared. Cynically, he wonders how much of that paint was worn away by Liam. How many embraces have they shared behind his back? How many times have they bared their fucking souls to one another in his bed?

Paz turns back to the door and exits, leaving the couple to their tryst. As the door clicks shut behind him, he suddenly feels intense exhaustion, his armor suddenly becoming stifling and heavy. Each breath feels like tar in his lungs as he leans heavily against the wall opposite the door.

“Hey, Paz,” Din says, coming toward him. “Bad news. Your idiots outside managed to set something on fire – “

Seemingly sensing something wrong, Din comes to a halt an arm span away. He leans forward slightly, coming to his side, in a show of brotherly concern.

“Ori’vod,” Din says softly. “Are you okay?” Paz draws in a great, gasping breath, his gaze still fixed on the door.

“Not in the least bit, vod,” he admits hoarsely, his voice breaking.

Din looks down at the helmets in his hands and comes to the only logical conclusion. He hisses through his teeth.

“I will drag them to the Foundry like the worthless fucking hut’uun they are,” Din hisses, his fingers flexing as he takes a step toward the door.

“No,” Paz says immediately, shaking his head.

“Why the fuck not?” Din demands sharply, his voice rising to an angry roar. “They betrayed the Oath, Paz!”

“Din, keep your voice down,” Paz says, ushering him away from the door and toward the Foundry. “I know what they did.”

“He called you his brother,” Din snaps angrily. “She called you her intended. They are liars, they broke their Oaths - !”

“Zephyr,” Paz says, his voice cracking again. “I don’t want to risk…”

The rage leaves his brother in an instant. He deflates like a wilted desert orchid. Din sighs gustily, looking between him and the door.

“What can I do to help, vod?” Din asks quietly.

“Just keep people away from me for a while,” Paz utters. “Armorer…she will know what to do.”

Gods, he prays she knows what to do.

“Absolutely,” Din says, clapping him on the shoulder. “I’ll always be here, ori’vod.”

Paz swallows thickly and nods, not trusting himself to speak. When he has regained control over his legs, he starts the long walk to the Forge. Each step feels like he is scaling some sheer cliff, the air thin and frosty in his lungs. Din runs interference, keeping the people trying to get his attention at bay. Pausing, he closes his eyes and considers what he is about to do.

Aliit maan bal solus kyr’yc.

He knows what the right thing to do is. Paz just does not know if he can do it.

For the first time in his life, he finds himself questioning his faith.

[current]

Armorer is in the middle of brewing a pot of her favorite tea when she hears footsteps in the Foundry. She looks up and sees Paz poking his head around the main doorway. That simple gesture brings back many memories of their earlier years together. Armorer has left the door to her private quarters open, the curtain drawn back, inviting those in need of guidance into her home.

She reaches for a second cup just as he reaches to knock on the door frame. Even though they’ve been family for nearly three decades, he still insists on knocking.

“Paz, join me,” she says.

He steps inside, ducking his head in a polite, respectful greeting.

She turns back to the chipped tea pot. Their new Tribe introduced them to the concept of tea, and now, she indulges every afternoon. Paz joins her and pulls a metal straw out from his gauntlet.

“What brings you here, Paz?” she asks, as the scent of the hot, spiced tea permeates the air.

He stares down at the cup, tension filling his massive frame.

“I wanted to ask your advice on something,” he says in a serious tone.

She remains silent, her brow furrowing.

“I’ve taken an interest in a woman,” he says. “And I want to ask her to be my partner. I want to know more about proper courtship traditions.”

It is only through years of experience and training that she does not jerk in surprise. She takes a moment to gather her thoughts. She is somehow surprised and not surprised at the same time. He has gotten to that age where a hunter starts staying at home for longer periods of time to teach their skills to the next generation. Although he is also bound to be lonely, she cannot recall him mentioning a partner.

She knows her friend, and she knows he will not entertain the idea of a serious relationship without the promise of marriage. After what the aruetiise had done to him, he had thrown himself into the hunt, turning his back to the possibility of marriage. Or anything long-term, really. The wounds were so deep she did not think he would ever fully heal.

He – like the rest of their kind – has been shaped from birth by hardship and struggle. He has had to fight for the victory of every single sunrise. Despite the crushing setbacks in his personal life, Paz has held his head high, always teetering on the edge of fully reaching mandokar - the ideal virtues of a Mandalorian warrior. It is that lost lust for life that has held him back all these years.

Now, he is ready to move forward, to hunger for each moment and experience in his life. Throughout the years, Armorer has seen glimpses of the warrior he could become. He is on that path now. Her heart fills to the point of overflowing for him.

She nods once.

“You know of our Tribe’s tradition of exchanging blades before the vows are spoken,” Armorer says.

Paz nods.

“What about here?”

“Alor Dezha has remarked that the Elders prefer to publicly acknowledge that the vows have been exchanged before the wedding night physically occurs. They typically do this as part of the wedding feast. Ultimately, it is your decision. You may choose one, both, or neither. As you know, we make do with with what we have. We do not have rigid rules in place.”

“That’s less complicated than I thought it would be,” he responds. “Nevertheless, I want to do this the right way for her. I think I’d like to do both.”

She is truly pleased with the news. If he is interested in entering the riduurok there is a chance he is also interested in rearing offspring. He will make an excellent spouse, parent, and teacher.

The youngest child here is eight years old. In just a few years, he will be fitted for his armor, and he will no longer be a child. Armorer and many others have expressed the desire to hear more little feet in the hallways. Hopefully, Paz will continue doing what he does best – inspiring and encouraging others through his leadership and his unwavering dedication to the Resol’nare.

Perhaps the other Hunters will begin reconsidering their unwed statuses so they may finally begin to increase their numbers once more.

Paz fidgets with his cup for a moment, breaking her from her reverie.

Now, she must satisfy her curiosity.

“Who has caught your attention?” the Armorer asks, keeping her tone casual and light, even as her thoughts whirl with plans for the feast and bonfire celebration.

Her thoughts then leap to naming ceremonies, but she restrains herself. They will need time to settle in as a married couple before producing or finding children.

“I want Shu’shika."

Armorer blinks in response.

“Shu’shika has caught your attention,” she confirms, carefully keeping her voice neutral, to give herself time to think of an appropriate response.

“Yes. How do we go about this courtship business, then?"

How unorthodox. Yet, as she considers it, she can see why he wants you. Paz has always appreciated the company of those who put the Tribe before themselves, and you are no exception. If a hunter or child has need, you will forego sleep to ensure they are properly cared for. Nothing will keep you from caring for those around you. Your dedication and loyalty to the Tribe will never be contested. With extra training, Armorer can see you shaping up into a halfway decent warrior in time.

“What exactly do you wish to know, Paz?” she asks curiously.

“How?”

Armorer blinks, though he cannot see it. She had not been ambiguous.

“What do you mean how?”

“How do I convince her to agree to courtship?” he clarifies, giving her what she interprets as an expectant look.

A furrow forms between her brows as she stares at her companion. Based on the rampant, unbridled scuttlebutt, there is no shortage of available and willing partners for a hunter of his stature and skill. She herself had once harbored an attraction to him, though that had been roughly two decades ago when she was just a feral, hormone-riddled teenager with far more free time than common sense.

“Most people start by asking their interest out on a date,” Armorer says slowly.

“A date,” he repeats.

Armorer almost sighs. Perhaps she had overestimated Paz’s general intelligence level.

“A date is an activity wherein two individuals assess their mutual compatibility and – “

“Armorer, I know what a date is. What does that even have to do with courtship?”

"Courtship is dating, Paz, but with the intent to marry, and no carnal relations."

"Oh. That makes sense. And how do I get her to agree to this?"

“How do you normally secure your partners?” she asks bluntly.

Paz recoils ever so slightly.

“I have only had a handful of one-time arrangements…since…”

Well. That is unexpected.

“Paz, you must simply ask,” she responds. “You are one of our best hunters. There are many who are interested in having you as a partner. I am certain she will be flattered by your request.”

“…but how? I haven’t asked anyone out on a date in eighteen years,” Paz says. “I honestly don’t know what people do on dates nowadays.”

“Just ask her to accompany you on an outing,” she responds.

“So, like…shooting? Do people even still go shooting on the first date?”

“Just pick something you know she enjoys,” Armorer says, faintly annoyed.

“Alright, I can do that,” he says. “One more question, Armorer.”

“What is it?” she asks.

Despite her affection for the older man, she is unable to keep the annoyance out of her body language. Maybe the age-old Mandalorian saying still holds true today: three braincells for the entire Tribe and the Alor holds two of them for safekeeping. However, Alor Dezha is a Hunter down to the marrow in his bones...perhaps it would be best to leave the braincells in the possession of a Tradesperson, where they won't risk being eaten.

“You’re a woman, aren't you? So, tell me: what do you ladies like on dates?”

She is so offended and incredulous that she splutters indignantly at him. As she struggles to come up with a proper retort, she becomes aware of his shoulders shaking.

She tightens her jaw. He always has been able to get under her plating to chafe at her like no one else. If anyone else had grown the balls to ask her something like that, she would not have hesitated to put her hammer through their skull.

“Paz, get the hell out of my room.”

He erupts into boisterous guffaws as he thumps his fist onto the table.

“Would you want chocolates? Flowers? The severed heads of your enemies?” he gets out through his giggles.

“I will goor your ass into the Forge,” she says in amusement, reaching for her hammer in warning.

Holding his hands up in mock surrender, he gets up to leave, and hightails it away before she can make good on her threat.

Armorer smiles under her bucket.

She hasn’t heard him laugh like that in a long time.

He will be just fine.

Paz paces nervously around the table for the fifth time, pausing to try and flatten the curling plastic tile underfoot. When that fails, he continues on his path around the table. Paz stops when the door opens. Din strides in, closes the squeaky door behind him, and takes a seat. The chair groans under his weight as he leans back.

“So, what’s got your bucket straps chafing?” he asks.

Paz immediately regrets asking for help. Especially from Din. But, being his brother through both vow and combat, Paz trusts no one else as much as he trusts Din.

“I need some advice,” Paz says carefully.

“What sort of advice?” Din asks, his helmet tilting a bit to the right.

“I want you to swear you won’t tell anyone,” he says firmly.

No one needs to know about his lack of experience.

“I won’t tell anyone,” Din says.

“Swear it,” Paz stresses flatly.

“Alright, alright,” Din says.

“On my honor, I swear I won’t tell anyone about anything we’re about to discuss.”

Paz takes a deep breath as he struggles to come up with the words needed to explain his unique situation. How the fuck is he supposed to even ask about this?

Has Din ever even been on a date before?

Gods above, he is too old for this shit.

“Does this have anything to do with those problems men your age typically get?” Din asks suddenly, breaking the silence. “You know, below the codpiece?”

He gestures down toward his crotch, as if his words were not mortifying enough.

“What?” Paz asks incredulously.

Din holds both hands up as if trying to defend himself.

“Look, Paz, every rifle malfunctions eventually,” Din says in what he might think is a comforting tone. “Especially when a man starts to get into his forties and fifties – “

“No, stop. My di - that part of me is just fine,” Paz snaps in annoyance. “I’m not that old, you little shit.”

“Oh. Okay,” Din says. “So, what is it? You’ve been acting really strangely for the past few weeks.”

Their buir did not raise either of them to be a hut’uun. He can do this, get those words out. He is a grown-ass man and he can be direct. Fuck delicacy. That kind of bantha-shit doesn’t work for Mandalorians, anyway.

“There’s a woman I’ve taken an interest in,” Paz says. “I’d like to give her a proper courtship. I was wondering if you had any input on where I could take her on a date.”

Din doesn’t react. For a moment, Paz wonders if Din even heard him. As the seconds tick by, the buzzing of the fluorescent lights overhead seems to grow louder. Then he hears a choked wheeze from his modulator, one that sounds like someone is strangling a de’kath bird with piano wire. Din’s shoulders shake violently as he starts to howl with laughter.

“You’re – you’re coming to me for advice on dating?” he gasps out, “Me? Din Dumbass Djarin?”

Paz falters at the mention of Cara’s affectionate nickname for Din. He shrugs once in response. Then he sinks down onto the table and crosses his arms.

“Yeah. Half a braincell is better than none, right?”

Din goes silent for several seconds.

“Holy fuck, you’re serious,” Din whispers. “Paz, I can barely keep my shit together. What makes you think I, of all people, would know anything about dating?”

“I haven’t been on a proper date in eighteen years,” Paz says dryly to Din. “I don’t know how this shit works anymore.”

A pregnant silence follows.

“Din, I’m over Zeli. I’ve been over her bantha-shit for a few years now,” Paz says. “I am ready to try something long-term again.”

“Fuck,” Din breathes. “We’ve all been wondering…if you’d…you know.”

“Stop wallowing in my self-pity and move on with my life?” Paz asks sardonically. “The past few years…I have been working on improving myself. Figuring out how to best honor the Resol’nare...All the stuff we were supposed to figure out years ago.”

“Paz, I’m happy to hear that,” Din says. “I’m glad you’re going to be you again.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Paz says, waving off Din’s comment. Shit, this is getting too emotional for him. “Whatever.”

Din snorts.

“Anyway. As for dating…I mean, there are better people to ask. I really could not help you with the dating thing.”

“Surely you’ve had a partner,” Paz says. “I’ve heard rumors about you and Cara.”

“Cara wants the simple things in life: good beer and to regularly beat someone's ass,” Din says. “I just so happen to be good at both finding good beer and getting my ass beat. When I asked her out, she almost pissed herself laughing at me.”

“Well, she said yes, which is more success than I’ve had,” Paz says. “I don’t know shit about this. The only people who care about courtship are the Elders.”

“And you now, apparently,” Din argues back.

He does have a point.

“Well…she means a lot to me. She isn’t a temporary arrangement,” Paz says carefully. “I’d like to do this the right way for her. So she knows I’m serious. And that I'm not just after...sex.”

Din inhales deeply, tapping his fingers on the table as he stares at the wall.

“Well, buir once told us that women like providers. So, go find a really big marsh deer, kill it, dress it, and bring everything back to her,” Din says, shrugging his shoulders. “Women like meat and leather, right?”

His tone is as uncertain as the way Paz feels about presenting you with a dead animal. They stay silent for several seconds.

“I’m fairly certain buir was joking when he told us that,” Paz says slowly.

“Huh,” Din says. “You know, now that it’s been said out loud…it does sound kind of ridiculous. Shit.”

They stay quiet for several moments, considering how truly fucked they both are when it comes to relationships. They’ve both had the occasional pleasure arrangement. And pleasure arrangements only require interest and about ten minutes. After his dumpster fire of a relationship with Zeli went down in a fiery, messy explosion, Paz never really considered settling down for marriage.

Why is this so damn difficult?

Din sighs, breaking him from his reverie, and tilts his helmet in his direction. It’s a sort of acknowledgement, an understanding that they are both committed to figuring this courtship business out together. Paz supposes that Din’s going to have to learn a few things, too, if he's somehow going to convince Cara to stick around with him for more than a few months. At the very least, Paz is grateful that Din picked someone smarter than himself. At least their children will have one intelligent parent.

“So. Who is it that has you acting all emotional, all ready to get domesticated?” Din asks, waving his hand around a bit.

“Shu’shika,” Paz says. “She’s…she’s the one I’m interested in.”

Din’s head snaps up so hard and fast that Paz hears his vertebrae crack from here.

“What?” Din asks. “Shu’shika?”

“What the fuck is with that tone, Din?” Paz snaps irritably. “If you’re going to insult her – “

“What? No, no,” Din says. “I’m not insulting her, no way. She doesn’t seem like your type, Paz. She’s…uh…not the most athletically gifted. Or the best at...hand-to-hand combat.”

That is the most diplomatic tone he has ever heard from Din and it pisses him the hell off. Paz does not like the idea of someone insulting you.

“She’s perfect the way she is,” Paz says flatly.

Din holds his hands up in surrender.

“I’m not judging your taste in women,” Din says mildly. “I was just…uh…surprised. I thought you’d go for someone like Nayel, or maybe even Revala.”

“They aren’t Shu’shika,” Paz says, shrugging.

Nayel and Revala are both warriors and hunters, the two of them direct competitors for their age and skill group. Nayel has even made a few passes at him, but her hand against his doesn’t send that little bolt of tingling pleasure radiating up along his spine. She always wants to fight with him. While he appreciates having good sparring partners, he sometimes wants something quieter.

“Well, we are both shit at this,” Din says. “So, we treat this like any other battle to be fought and won. What intel do you have for me?”

Paz starts to list the data, growing more comfortable as he settles into the comforting routine of what he does know how to do. Win a fight. Then again, he isn’t sure if he should be looking at courtship like it’s a battle to be won.

Notes:

Alor'ad - Captain Vod - comrade, mate, brother - different contexts based on the people involved Gaa'tayl - help Aruetiise - outsiders, traitors. When used to refer to an outsider, it's not an insult. It's just a state of being. When used to refer to a Mandalorian, it's an insult. Uj'ayali - Mandalorian cake made from ground nuts, fruit, spices. Delicious. "Ni copaani hailir gar. Gedet'ye, cyare." - "I want to fill you. Please, my love." Cyare - beloved Dar'buir - "Divorce" from a parent, like disowning them. Rare, usually only done if the parent is a shithead. Starbird - Star Wars creature that is basically a phoenix. It's supposedly reborn in the heart of a star, etc. Manda - Soul, that which makes someone Mandalorian hut'uun - coward, an egregious insult Aliit maan bal solus kyr’yc. - Family first and the individual second - randomly made this saying up. Mandokar - the virtues of the ideal Mandalorian - aggressiveness, tenacity, loyalty, and a lust for life. Riduurok - love bond between two spouses, marriage Resol'nare - The six tenets by which all Mandalorians abide. Short version: "Education and armor, self-defense, our tribe, our language and our leader all help us survive." Alor - leader Goor - Goore --> Grenade --> You toss a grenade --> Therefore goor is the Mando equivalent of yeet. Humor from Tumblr. De'kath bird - An animal I made up a long time ago for another story. The bird sounds like a raven, a tuba, and a paper shredder all got together and made an ugly, horrifying baby. Marsh deer - An animal I made up a long time ago for another story. A marsh deer is about twice as tall as a giraffe and has huge antlers that can cause serious damage if they ram someone. They are generally herbivorous, but when they are in the middle of rutting season, they become opportunistic carnivores. They also dislike humans and will attack unprovoked. Also, they make for good eating and hunting. OYA! Shu'shika - Nickname I made up using shu'shuk (disaster) and -ika (diminutive), means Tiny Disaster. Because Reader is a tiny disaster.

#tv: the mandalorian #the mandalorian #A Proper Mandalorian Courtship #din djarin #paz vizsla #paz vizla #the armorer #paz vizsla x f!reader #paz vizla x reader #paz vizla x you #family relationships #din djarin x cara dune #original characters #angst #heavy angst #no use of y/n #star wars #paz vizla x f!reader #series: a proper mandalorian courtship

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astraeagreengrass · 4 years

Text

The Queen's Husband [5/?]

When her reign is threatened, the Queen of Ergona must find a husband to secure her throne.

Word Count: 2.545

Warnings: Smut, fluff, Steve Rogers (yes, that deserves a warning of its own). English is not my first language so I apologize in advance for any mistakes.

A/N: This chapter is just a filler, but I hope I can make it up to you guys with some Steve fluff. I'm hoping to post more regularly now that I am quarantined, although I'm still working from home and online classes will begin next week. How are you doing? I hope everyone is safe and healthy. If you ever need to talk, my askbox is open. Sending my love to you ♡

His fingertips woke you before sunlight did.

Delicate digits traced a path from your tailbone to your nape and down again, a feather's caress to your spine. He praised the bones and vertebrates that sustained you in the same meticulous way he praised the rest of your body: the soles of your feet, the palms of your hands, the ends of your hair. Throughout the night, nothing, not a single piece of what you were, escaped his careful loving. You never imagined sex could be this special.

Your cocoon was still relatively dark, the curtains of the four poster bed shielding you and your lover from the outside world, at least until it inevitably came barging in. Today was the first day of the rest of your lives - not as husband and wife but as King and Queen and Ergona. Steve had done plenty of teaching yesterday, but now it was your time.

Turning, you found him, lying on his side, head propped on his right arm, lazy smile on his face. Adonis.

Traditionally, men and women of nobility wouldn't sleep together. They each had their separate bedrooms, sometimes linked by a door, sharing a bed only when necessary. But Steve stayed over. You choked on a laugh.

“What is it?” he asked, suddenly self-conscious.

“I'm thinking of Wanda, Nat and everyone that was probably waiting outside the door for you to leave last night."

He chuckled, pulling you over to him with his free arm. His chest was warm, somehow warmer than the bed furs, and you tucked yourself in it, carefully threading your fingers through his patch of hair.

“Do you regret it?" his voice was muffled by the soft press of his lips on the top of your head.

“No” you kissed the skin above his heart. “In fact, I think you should come back tonight.”

His hold tightened around your body and you sighed in content. Was this love? Being so at ease and relaxed with someone you couldn't be bothered by your appearance, your responsibilities or your nasty morning breath? And how did it come to this? How did Steve sneak his way into your heavily guarded heart, tearing down your walls as easily as he took his next breath?

And why did none of these questions mattered in the blissful aftermath of your nuptials?

It didn't last long, of course. As you predicted, a knock on your door announced the end of the dream and the start of your day. It was Monday, which meant the privy council would gather at precisely ten o’clock, and not even the all the wine from the wedding feast would halt your advisors’ punctuality. You groaned, pressing harder into your husband's embrace, unwilling to let him go even as Wanda's embarrassed voice announced:

“Your Majesties?” she knocked again. “I'm sorry to interrupt, but it's past nine. The privy council awaits.”

“Don’t go” you whispered.

Steve kissed your temple, your cheek, your shoulder. The hand on your hip ran the length of your arm and cradled the back of your head, angling it so he could take your lips in his. It was slow and sweet, but tasted like goodbye. You hated it.

You pushed him into the mattress, knees on each side of his body and hands sprawled on his strong pecs. There was something wickedly satisfying in overpowering a man like Steve, to watch his gaze grow dark as you hovered above him. It filled your head with the dirtiest fantasies, which, up until last eve, were completely unknown to you.

You kissed him again, fiercer this time. Your teeth pulled on his bottom lip while his palm moved to your ass. He squeezed it hard enough to leave a handprint and his fingers found the way to your core, causing you to whimper. Despite the arousal you were sore, sharp pain lacing your sex from the loss of your virginity.

“Does it hurt?” Steve haltered.

You heard Wanda knock again, but it was ignored.

“A little” you muttered, eyes casting down in embarrassment.

He lifted you like a feather, switching positions gently - how naive of you to think you could ever truly outmatch his strength.

“I’ll make you feel better, my love” he promised, raining pecks down your torso until he reached the top of your mound. Your breath hitched, but, even so, your legs opened to him. These sheets had known more promises of trust in the course of a night than you did in a whole life, all sworn in his whispers of care and attention.

Your back arched at the first swipe of his tongue. Steve held your thighs, keeping them apart as he delved between your legs. It was filthy but downright glorious, the way he licked, sucked and bit on your most private parts, all the while his beard scratched the delicate skin of your inner thighs. Erotic sounds filled your ears as you lost yourself to the delirious feeling of giving yourself to him.

You were going to be late.

Lord Fury was annoyed and Lord Strange was nonchalant but Lord Stark and Lady Romanoff looked positively delighted when you and Steve finally arrived to the Small Council meeting, over an hour later than you were supposed to.

A new chair was added to one end of the table to accommodate the King. Scrolls and parchments were ready to be examined and the map of the continent, meticulously painted on the floor to the left side of the room, gleamed brighter with a fresh coat of color.

All four advisors rose as you entered. This was Steve's first commitment as sovereign. You'd given him some reading material on laws and tax procedures during the summer so he could get used to what was to come, and, of course, he was more than well versed in military affairs, but the Small Council was the place where politics happened. Once a week you’d welcome the lords in the General Assembly and listen to their concerns and demands, but, ultimely, decisions were made in these chambers.

Steve would have to learn the ways of Ergona with the same dedication he had for his swordsmanship, but as fast as it would take to strike down an enemy. You married him to secure the throne, yet keeping it required wits and dexterity. The King was about to enter a battlefield bloodier than any other he's ever faced.

You believed he could do it. If there was anyone that could, it was him.

“Your Majesties” Lord Stark commenced with a happy smirk. “How nice of you to finally join us.”

If Steve could kill your uncle right then and there, he would. Red flushed through his cheeks and down his neck, but he could only gawk, speechless. Sam, the bastard that he was, snickered from his post at the door.

“Tony…” Steve was disconcerted. “I mean, Lord Stark. We are… Sorry to have kept this Council waiting.”

“You don’t have to apologize, Your Grace” you interrupted, shooting daggers at Tony with your eyes.

“It is true, Your Grace” Natasha added, a smirk hidden in the corner of her mouth. “This Council is here to serve you, not the other way around.”

With a pointed look to Tony, who was disguising his chuckles with a fake cough, she continued:

“The royal wedding and King Steve’s coronation left Ergona in very high spirits. Add to that the defeat of Zerbolia and we have, perhaps, the best moment in Queen Y/N’s reign so far. We must seize this opportunity to strengthen the bond with the common folk.”

“It is customary for new monarchs to travel across the kingdom after their coronation” Lord Strange explained to Steve. “But since we are approaching Winter, I would advise you to wait until Spring.”

“Indeed” Natasha said. “The last crops will be harvested in the coming weeks, then the villages will prepare their storages. We could arrange your travels for around the Spring Festival.”

The Spring Festival marked the end of the winter months and the beginning of the new harvest season. It was the most important tradition in Ergona, a time when families and friends came to together to celebrate life and wish for prosperity.

“What do you think, Your Grace?” you asked.

“You're not a stranger to travel, right?” he pointed out. “I know you often visit the provinces.”

“Yes. I made it a personal goal of mine to reach those who can’t easily reach me, but this would be something for you. To introduce you as the new King. They know you as Captain, not monarch.”

“Your work in the military brings you renown amongst the people, Your Grace” Lord Fury clarified. “But history shows that they have a hard time taking to new rulers. Even with this initial approval, things can still shift dramatically.”

“What about their lords?” Steve inquired.

“Oh, they are overjoyed” Lord Stark quipped. “But I’ll give it until next week before they have something new to complain about.”

“The General Assembly is in four days” you stated. “Lady Natasha, what are the prospects?”

“They’ll come at the King like wolves" she turned to Steve. “Support is volatile. If the lords think you’re not prepared, they won’t hesitate to show their displeasure.”

“It is impossible for me to learn everything there is to learn by Friday” the King blurted.

“You’ll never learn everything” you said. “But we can divert their attention."

“What do you propose, Your Grace?” Lord Strange crossed his hands over the table.

“A ball, of course” you smiled.

“Excuse me, Your Grace” Lord Fury grimaced. “But how could a ball help us?”

“The nobility likes their parties, Lord Fury. It keeps them entertained and if they’re entertained they won’t bother asking the King the hard questions, thus giving His Majesty the time to go through our most important matters" you elucidated.

"This is not a bad idea" Natasha pondered. "We could have the ball under the pretense of celebrating the Yule season. This way, the lords will have time to return to their lands, oversee the winter preparations and return to the capital. You could hold off General Assembly meetings until then."

"His Grace still has to address them on Friday" Lord Stark pointed out.

You looked over to Steve. A frown marred his beautiful features as he took note of the rapid exchange between you and your advisors. He was clearly out of his element, more used to following orders than giving them. It served only as a reminder of how much he was sacrificing for you - casting aside his career, exposing himself to scrutiny of the critics, facing the fear of the unknown.

All of it for you.

"Well" you exhaled. "This council has four days to aid His Grace. I suggest we start now."

Steam clouded the room in billowing white clouds smelling like orange blossom and patchouli. The water was too hot, tinting Steve's skin a light shade of pink. His head hung from the edge of the tub, eyes closed, basking in relaxation, while his hands still stroked your left foot. Directly across from him, you said:

"You still haven't told me who holds Osuva."

He groaned.

"The Van Dynes?" he mumbled. "No, the Hogans. The Van Dynes hold Fort Murahainen."

"Are they friends?"

"Yes. Lady Van Dyne welcomed Lord Hogan to her estate on the last Spring Festival."

"Why is Fort Murahainen named as such?"

"Because the fields surrounding it are home to a large population of ants."

He lifted his head, gaze finding yours over the scented bath. You were in the royal chambers - your parents' old quarters, which you'd refused to take when you were crowned. But you were married now, and it was uncalled for a King to sneak back to his room in the middle of the night. These new chambers consisted of two dormitories separated by their own private door. So far, only one of them had been used.

Steve leaned forward, taking the parchment from your hands and tossing it somewhere behind you. His arms laced around your waist, pulling you to his lap. Water sloshed around you, spilling from the tub to the wooden floor. The light from the fire bathed him in golden glow. Your fingers traced a scar on his collaborne.

"How'd you get that?" you rasped.

"Aviko" he laced your fingers, palm to palm. "We were ambushed by a Zerbolian militia. Their sword work is ordinary, but they're great with arrows. One of them shot me and I rolled over the river bank. Bucky pulled me out."

You kissed him gently above the puckered skin, going upwards towards his neck, jawline and chin. He nuzzled you, beard scratching your cheek in a ticklish caress. Your lips met halfway, tongues and teeth clashing in an intricate, personal dance. Steve twisted in your embrace, swiftly pulling you under him. The muscles in his arms hypnotized you as he grabbed edge lip of the tub, hovering above you.

Your hips opened to him, legs wrapping around his waist as he entered you gently.

"Fuck" he breathed out in pleasure, fingerprints digging in your hips.

Every night was like this: you'd go over the long list of names, laws and customs Steve had to memorize, always ending up in the tub, the chaise, the bed. Even the carpet once. It was a most peculiar learning method, but it was working and you weren't complaining. Sex was wonderful, but, more than that, the feeling of being with your husband tugged on your heartstrings, filling your soul with the most fantastic, overwhelming joy.

For the first time, you had more than Ergona. It felt bold and audacious, even guilt-driving, to think of something solely for your happiness, but, in moments such as these - so close to him, each kiss more as vital as your next breath - your concerns flew out the window like the last breaths of autumn before winter came.

You were falling in love and you felt undefeatable.

"Is it time?” the bald man asked.

“Not yet” the other one responded. “We need to wait until she’s pregnant.”

“Then what?”

“Then we take Stark out of the picture. Without him she’s vulnerable. Fury is loyal to the country, not the crown, and Strange cares more about his ancient arts than politics, but Stark would give his life for hers.”

“And the King?”

“It would be a shame if something were to keep him away from Court, wouldn’t it?”

The bald man tensed, and his companion noticed his brief hesitation.

“Are you having second thoughts?”

“No!” he assured. “But how will you do it?”

“I’m traveling to the mountains at the end of the week. I’ll speak to the Baron. He wants nothing more than to get his revenge on Captain Rogers.”

The bald man was quick to noticed how the other referred to the King by his former title.

“Zerbolia’s navy was crushed no less than six months ago. The military's at it's prime. How can you be sure the Baron will risk it?”

“He will.”

His companion’s certainty disconcerted the bald man, but he couldn’t turn back now. The wheels were spinning and a new game was at play.

Ergona would be the battlefield.

#steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers fanfiction #king!steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x female reader #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers x you #king!steve #king!steve x reader #king!steve rogers x reader #king!steve x you #steve rogers au

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kuratoki · 4 years

Text

Changes 09

Changes is ALMOST done...I just finished writing the remaining parts so they’ll be posted throughout the week :)

Also once this series is completed what do you guys want to see next? The sequel or the new fic? Let me know~♥

Do you agree that things change in time? Well four years abroad would tell wouldn’t it?

Pairing: Reader x Jeno ft. NCT

Words: 3711

Warning: Swearing/Mentions of Death/Angst

1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 6.5 - 7 - 8 - 9

Renjun had seen Jaemin’s car come into the parking lot from the window and went out to meet you, “We need to talk” he said quickly, pulling you away to somewhere private and away from everyone's questionable looks.

“Did Jongin contact you?” you both asked at the same time once you were alone.

“Ah, good. So we are on the same page...what do you think?” he asked leaning against the brick wall, crossing his arms.

“I just want to know why they’re asking us instead of holding auditions.” you said biting your lip, “We’re technically considered alumni at this point despite only being juniors so isn’t that against the rules?”

“It was a request from Anne-Marie,” Renjun emphasized, “She can technically do whatever she wants. We’d probably be missing school too meaning we won’t be in the Senior levels with everyone else the following year. You don’t think its because of...”

"Can’t be.” you said quickly shaking your head, “If I remember correctly, opening night rolls around spring break...It might be a semester abroad.” you commented, “What do you want to do?”

“You know I won’t agree if you don’t.” Renjun stated with a shrug, “How about we see what Jongin has to say first? Then we’ll decide.”

“Sounds good. I’m just wondering why though…” you said trying to figure out why you and Renjun would get called back after all these years. After the one performance, the two of you chose not to reaudition the next year but kept in close contact with a few members of the competition team members who were a lot older and advanced. There were only two known Juniors who had ever made it to the competition team and now only one remained while the other one was hired as their Creative Director.

“We should get inside, I’m starving.” you said, stuffing your hands in your pockets but before you could take a step Renjun threw something at you and you almost didn’t catch it.

Looking at the box in your hands, you noticed it was your iron supplements.

“You left those in my bag. Judging by your face, your levels dropped right?” he asked with a smirk before wrapping his arm around your shoulder, “If we’re going to do this, we can’t have you falling off stage again.”

“I’ll be fine.” you said rolling your eyes, “You and Jisung really need to stop babying me.”

“We will when Jeno starts, how about that?” he suggested, giving you his sarcastic smile, leading you into the private room.

“Yo! What took you guys so long?! The food arrived ten minutes ago.” Yuta called when he noticed the two of you walking in.

“You didn’t save any food for me?” you asked Yuta with big eyes, “The one who makes you food almost every day? Whose lunch box did you eat today huh?”

“Wow, still a master at being pitiful.” Renjun muttered, arm still around your shoulder and took you to where he saw two empty seats and you gulped. This was an awkward seating arrangement.

You were sandwiched between Jeno, who had Yeeun on his other side, and Renjun, who had Donghyuk on his other side. Across from you were Jaemin, Hana, Chenle and Jisung. This was going to be interesting.

“Don’t worry Y/N, I saved you some food.” Doyoung said, handing you a plate of skewers, which was Yuta’s choice of restaurant tonight.

“Plus we ordered more squid tentacles cause Jeno said that they were your favorite.” Jaehyun called out with a smirk, making the two of you red in the face.

“Thanks Doyoungie.” you said and picked up a skewer, holding it in front of Jeno who took a bite without hesitation before you finished the rest. Sharing food with each other was habitual.

“Careful you two, some would think that you were already dating.” Jaemin teased as the other boys all agreed around him and continued to poke fun at the two of you.

“Anyways, what took you two so long outside?” Mark asked, looking at you and Renjun curiously.

You looked at Renjun, silently asking if he wanted to tell everyone. Renjun shrugged his shoulders, people were bound to find out anyways and you nodded your head towards him, wanting him to say it.

“We both got a phone call just now from our mentor and Creative Director of the Selects Dance Company. They’re starting to organize their yearly performance schedule and they’ve decided upon Swan Lake once more.” Renjun said, taking a sip of his tea.

“So they want you two to audition again?” Taeyong asked as the rest of the boys looked on curiously.

“But isn’t the Selects Dance Company Europe based? You’d have to be attending an academy there in order to participate.” Ten commented.

“The Head of the Board herself has requested that Renjun and I return to reprise our roles as the Prince and Odette. We aren’t sure about the logistics about it yet. The Creative Director said he’s on his way here from Europe so we’ll meet with him to get the details I guess.” you answered.

“Dude that’s so sick!!” Mark said, coming to congratulate the two of you as various others did the same, “You two must’ve made an impact to get invited back.”

“Well Anne-Marie, who runs the whole operation, does say that once a Select, always a Select. A lot of the junior performance members get scouted into their respective competitive teams and Renjun and I do keep in contact with quite a few of the competition team members.” you explained, “Though it was unsurprising, it was completely unexpected.”

“Are you guys going to do it?” Doyoung asked, leaning over curiously. He knew that if you accepted the role, there was a chance you’d be going back to Europe a lot sooner than anyone would have wanted but if he remembered correctly, the Selects Dance Company based out of London had a really unique way to accommodate their foreign teammates.

“We’ll decide once we meet with him in a few days.” Renjun confirmed, “Speaking of which Doyoung, I’m going to need to take a day off from the club this week. I’m not sure when but I’ll let you know as soon as I find out.”

“Tell Y/N.” Taeyong said, “She’s the clubs new manager, remember?”

Jeno, who wasn’t at club when Taeyoung and Ten made the announcement, turned to look at you, “Really? They actually convinced you?”

“What? Do you not want me at club meetings?” you asked, looking at him from the corner of your eye, “And Renjun tell Hana, I’m going to be at that meeting too remember?”

“Noted.” Hana said with a giggle as Jeno tried to defend himself.

“No no no!!” he said, shaking his hands quickly, causing everyone in the room to laugh. It was unusual to see Jeno flustered the way he was and some of the members cringed at the sight while others smiled knowing there was only one person who could do that to him, “It’s not that. You’ve been so busy lately, I just thought you wouldn’t have the time.”

“The dance that we presented today and the practices we had for projects took up the majority of that.” you explained and let out a relieved sigh, “Now I can finally have a social life. Do you know how hard it was to see only Jaehyun and Renjuns face every day, almost every hour, almost every waking moment…”

“We get it!” Jaehyun and Renjun called out, rolling their eyes and Renjun shoved you slightly, making you shove him back.

“Wait, so you guys never explained it to me.” Sicheng said looking at the three of you, “Jae saw the video, figured out that it was Y/N. Asked Y/N to be his partner but why was Renjun with you?” The two were over practically everyday after school and Jaehyun just told him it was for their project but Renjun always looked like the third wheel in the scenario.

“Also, who was the guy that Y/N was dancing with?” Donghyuk asked, who was currently watching the video with several of the others behind him including yourselves and Yeeun, “the dance itself was so intimate, you must’ve been comfortable with him.”

You looked at Renjun, then back to Donghyuk, then turned to look at Renjun again, shrugging, “Well I guess you were a little uglier back then.”

Everyone at the table froze,minus Renjun who was busy shaking the life out of you again for your comment and was currently cursing at you in Chinese and Chenle who was laughing his butt off at the curses coming out of his friends mouth.

“W-wait…” Ten said, interrupting Renjuns fit, “The two of you…I thought you guys did ballet.”

“Doesn’t mean we never explored other styles of dance.” Renjun said and started thinking, “Why did we choreo this again?”

“Competition?” you suggested.

“No, look at your hair. We posted this second year when we were training with the Selects.” Renjun said pointing at something on the phone, “Extra credit project?”

“We were training with the Selects, that already fulfilled our requirement for the year.” you said and your heads snapped to look at each other, “Ah.”

“We were bored.” you both said at once and heard someone choke on their meat nearby.

“That’s right. We had a day off and watched the movie.” you said remembering the day clearly, “It was my favorite song.”

“Eight hours later, the dance was created.” Renjun said with a satisfied sigh, wrapping his arm around your shoulders, “Back in the day, when it was just you and me.”

“Bored out of our minds cause all we knew was dance. Anne-marie was impressed when we performed it for her the next day.” you said, leaning your head on his shoulder, “Heck, I was impressed.”

“Dude, I’m impressed.” Ten said with a big nod of approval, “It’s hard to make choreo like that to perfection in such a short period of time.”

“We know.” you and Renjun said at the same time.

‘Just because the dance came together in eight hours, doesn’t mean it was a peaceful discussion. This girl gets feisty when she’s persistent.” Renjun said with a smirk.

“I’m sorry...who bit who?” you asked looking up at him with a raised eyebrow, not realizing how it had come out.

“I recall it going both ways.” Renjun shot back suggestively and you pushed him away in disgust, going back to your seat.

Jeno’s eyes widened, Chenle sighed and Hana giggled.

“Yea, then I kicked you in the shin for it and you couldn’t walk for ten minutes. Bruised badly too I recall.” you said and looked at Jeno, giving him an innocent grin, “He learned not to fuck with me after that.”

“I just learned not to fuck with you.” he said, pulling you by the hood towards him, “Now eat. You skipped lunch and we ordered more skewers.” he pushed the plate in front of you and wrapped his arm around your waist as he talked to Jaemin and Hana while Taeyong got you into a conversation regarding the Clubs pre-competition retreat.

It was the one of two events a year where the older members treated the junior members to a week or weekend away. Most of the members came from wealthy families and the SUEX fund which was established by the founding members years ago came in handy. It was an account with the school where alumni members of the club would donate a little bit of money every year to fund club expenses, such as competition fees and the retreat along with team jackets etc.

The members of the club had to hold a certain grade point average to maintain their position within the dance team. Most of the members were in their top of the class and Doyoung, Taeyong, Johnny and Jaehyun were all part of the student council.

What didn’t go unnoticed by Yeeun was that despite being in a conversation with Jaemin, Jeno’s arm remained around your waist as if it was the most natural thing in the world. You were engaged in two different conversations, yet still completely aware of the others' presence and obviously listening in on the others as well. She had never seen two people who weren’t together so in tune with one another.

“Where should we go this year?” Johnny asked, taking out his phone for potential destinations.

“Why don’t we try someplace new?” Jaehyun suggested.

“Hong Kong.” Yukhei called out.

“Been there.” you and Jeno said together.

“Japan?” Yuta suggested.

“Been there.” you chorused once again.

“Oh! Why don’t we go to Hawaii!” Mark suggested.

“Been there six times.” you said and Jeno nodded.

“How have you been to so many of the same places?” Jisung asked confused, “Can’t be pure coincidence.”

“Our parents work from home and travel for a living.” you answered for the two of you, “We grew up going on trips together all over the place. Hawaii...California…”

"Japan...Malaysia…the Carribean..” Jeno continued listing off his fingers, “We did a cruise once too.”

“Ahh our days of running free on deck, high on endless soft serve.” you said leaning into him with a giggle, remembering the days where your parents let you did as you pleased while on the cruise, “What do you guys want to do for the retreat?” you asked, getting back on topic.

“Weekend trip this time around. I think we’ll save the weeklong one for warmer weather.” Taeyong said looking at his phone, “We could go to Busan.”

“Why don’t we go to Y/N’s vacation home in Jeju?” Jeno suggested, not even asking you first.

“Vacation home?” Yeeun asked with wide eyes, just how wealthy were you?

“We could.” you agreed, “You’d just have to pay for the plane tickets. But it’s in my name now and I have the keys. As long as you guys don’t trash the place, I can organize the whole thing.”

“Your parents actually put the whole thing in your name?” Jeno asked skeptically, “There has to be a reason behind that.”

“They figured we’d use it more than they would and if anything happens, I’m responsible, not them.” you answered, “And don’t act so surprised. I know for a fact that you have the penthouse in Gangnam under your name.”

“Yea and? It’s not like I use it.” he said, “It’s just sitting there collecting dust.”

‘It’s waiting for us.’ he thought to himself, subconsciously tightening his arm around you and felt you shift to make yourself more comfortable. When you were younger, the two of you made a pact to move to the city together and to this day, it was what the penthouse in Gangnam his parents promised him was for. He wanted to be your first official place together.

“The fact that the two of you already have property under your names astound me.” Doyoung said with a straight face, “You truly are a match made in heaven.”

“Our parents have share homes in certain cities so they have a home wherever they go. They haven’t really been in Korea much these days.” you explained ignoring Doyoungs last comment, “and with Jeno’s parents gone, we kind of have to rely on each other. Plus I have WinWin who apparently adopted Yuta so I’m technically a mom of three.” you finished with a sigh.

“I’ll pay for you tonight Y/N.” Yuta called out sweetly, making you snort.

“When do you guys want to go to Jeju? Y/N and I can take care of it all. You just have to show.” Jeno said as eyes widened around the table.

“Did my ears deceive me or did Jeno actually just take charge of an event?” Johnny asked, looking at Doyoung and Taeyong.

“He’s smart, taking the opportunity to spend more time with her.” Doyoung mused, “And Renjuns also doing a good job at playing the jealousy pawn. He brings out a side of her that I don’t think Jeno’s ever seen and its obvious.”

“Okay, fine.” Taeyong said grinning, “You and Y/N can take charge, outside of the plane tickets, we’ll give you a budget for food and drinks. Anything outside of that will come out of your pockets.”

“Fine by me.” Jeno said looking down at you, “What do you think.”

“I have to dance with you already and now I have to plan a retreat with you?” you asked, pretending to be reluctant, “Sure why not.”

“Okay, now we’ve settled that. What are we doing for the rest of the night?” Yuta asked, “It’s Friday night guys.”

“You guys could always come over.” you said knowing it was what Yuta wanted, “And if it gets too much, I can just escape to Jeno’s or something.”

“I need to get my cats from you first but that sounds like a plan.” Jeno agreed as others agreed around him.

“I’m starting to like our new manager already.” Jungwoo said grinning, “Best decision the club has ever made.” As those around him happily agreed, knowing that good things were going to come to the club.

When everything was settled, everyone slowly but surely made their way to your house. Yeeun and Yukhei even showed up and you were glad that there was no animosity between you and the truth was, Yeeun couldn’t feel any even if she tried.

Through dinner she could see why Jeno liked you so much. You invited her to dinner and even back to your house, even though all she had been was mean to you. The way he looked at you was also another thing that got Yeeun. The only time she had ever seen that look was the way Jaemin would look at Hana, it was the look of adoration, contentment and love. She realized then that she couldn’t compete with someone like that. Not with how strongly Jeno wasn’t afraid to show his obvious love for you in front of everyone.

Jeno and Jaemin had gone back to his house to change once more and had yet to return, a few of the guys were in your yard while others were playing video games. You and Renjun were in the kitchen, reading the Selects group chat which was currently going crazy.

“Something doesn’t seem right.” Chenle said, looking around the room, specifically at three different people.

“What are you talking about?” Jisung asked, focused on the game at hand.

Chenle looked at Yukhei who seemed to be a little too focussed on his phone and then looked at you and Renjun who seemed to be doing the same. Doing a quick scan of the room, Hana, Jeno and Jaemin were no where to be found.

“Something is seriously not right.” he said again when he saw the grim looks on yours and Renjuns faces and Yukheis gaze darting towards the two of you across the room, his look almost identical.

Getting up, he quickly made his way to the kitchen when he saw you say something to Renjun and he nodded his head, leaving out your back door his phone grasped tightly in his hand. It was the wrong move however because once Renjun was out of sight, Yukhei left Yeeun and made a beeline for the kitchen, luckily Chenle got there first.

“What’s going on?” he asked when he saw you resting your head in your hands.

At the same time, your phone rang and you held up your finger to Chenle, signalling for him to hold on.

“Please tell me you didn’t get on that plane and that you’re with them right now.” you said the moment you answered.

“I didn’t get on the plane and I’m with Anne-Marie and Mia right now.” Jongin said on the other side quietly, “Mia’s on the phone with Renjun and Anne-Marie is saying her goodbyes. How are you holding up?”

“I’m still in shock...but I think it’ll be easier to let go when it sinks in. We all knew it was going to happen and Mia’s been keeping us updated. He gave up his fight.” you said and sighed, closing your eyes, a lone tear escaped alarming Chenle.

“His body couldn’t take it anymore.” Jongin said, his voice heartbroken. He did just lose a brother after all, “Listen, I just wanted to let you know that I’m still going to be coming down but I’ll be there in two days. They were already prepared so they just have to decide the funeral date. I want to meet with the two of you but I have a huge favor to ask of you and Renjun.”

“Anything.” you said, trying to hold in your tears and you felt Chenle wrap his arm around your shoulders in a comforting hug.

“Anne-Marie insists that we proceed with the production regardless of the circumstances. I don’t want to ask too much of her right now but the show must go on. Can I ask the two of you to be a helping hand with the cast and production alongside Mia?” Jongin requested and you gasped.

He wanted you to be part of not only the cast but the production team as well, this was a big opportunity since it showed that he believed in your skills.

“We can talk more about it when I get there but it would be a big help to me and the rest of the company.” he continued.

“I’ll talk to Renjun after he gets back. We will for sure consider it. Go be with them, they need you the most now.” you said, “Just let me know where and when to meet.”

“I’ll see you soon. Take care of yourself Y/N.” Jongin said before the line went dead.

“Y/N, what happened? What’s going on?” Chenle asked as you let more tears flow.

“Y/N.” Yukhei said coming into the kitchen and standing on your other side so you were trapped.

“Xander passed away.” you whispered, letting more tears flow and closed your eyes briefly, “His nurse found him this morning...they said it was peaceful. His body was exhausted and just couldn’t take it anymore.”

#nct imagine #nct #nct dream imagine #nct dream #lee jeno #jeno #jisung #jaemin #kpop #kpop scenario #kpop imagines #nct scenario #nct fiction #nct dream fiction #nct dream scenario #jeno imagine #jeno fiction #jeno scenario

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littleoldrachel · 4 years

Text

i am burned out (i smell of smoke)

okay, look. I wasn’t gonna post this until it was FINISHED because i am trying to learn to actually finish my wips. but. the world is sorta falling apart and i hope that maybe i can help even one person feel temporarily less anxious about it all.

i wrote this for @gumnut-logic‘s birthday and am now over a month late, so! good! (so sorry nutty, you’re so incredible at blessing us with your words, i just wanted to do something nice for you since you’re so so good to us)

my love for virgil tracy + my silent lurking in this fandom have brought this about. i never thought i’d be writing thunderbirds fanfiction and yet. here we are (my father would be so disappointed in me).

this is my first time writing these characters, as will become painfully clear. pls be nice to me, i am fragile lol. i am horribly aware that my virg is probably too ‘floppy’ as per your post, nutty, so sorry in advance! this is me whumping your boy emotionally and mentally, but i’m gonna fix him, i swear! there are five parts (i have written the first three).

virgil is always written as being very good at taking care of his mental health, and it occurred to me that some of the best people at this have had to learn to be that way, and so I guess this is an exploration of that? anyway, have some virgil aggressively loving his family.

brains isn’t in this and kayo isn’t much either sorryyy. oh my GOd shut up, here you go:

i am burned out (i smell of smoke) [on ao3]

summary: in which virgil falls apart, learns how to put himself back together, and realises he doesn't have to do it alone.

word count: 2.8k ish (part 1/5)

warnings: mental health issues

timeline: i suppose this is set in early TAG verse? jeff is missing and nobody is Coping Well.

happy belated birthday, nutty!! <3

He isn’t quite sure where it began. Somewhere between three back-to-back rescues, pulling a child’s body from thick, black mud, and failing to reach the scientist before smoke ravaged her lungs, a weight settles in his chest that none of his usual coping mechanisms can shift.

To say it’s been a hard week would be an understatement, but then again, they’ve had hard weeks before. Any time a rescue mission turns into a recovery mission, they all feel it - how can they not? - but this time, this time is different.

Perhaps it was seeing the kid’s mother break down completely at the sight of such a small corpse. Perhaps it was the abuse hurled at him and his brothers by the scientist’s girlfriend for failing to rescue her soulmate in time. Perhaps it was sheer exhaustion and pain, perhaps it was feeling ribs break under the force of his CPR efforts, perhaps it was knowing that in spite of it all, it wasn’t enough.

It’s like he can’t quite draw a full breath. Like his throat has half-closed and tears are creeping at the back of his eyes, but neither is willing to break the damn. It’s the heaviest kind of emptiness he’s ever known.

And so Virgil forces it away - or if not away, then at least to one side - whilst he takes care of brothers who need to talk about the horrors they have just witnessed and the fresh guilt they now bear. He’ll take care of himself later (probably) and then he’ll finally be able to shift that god-awful weight on his lungs. It’s fine.

Alan is easy enough to handle; Virgil’s pedestal will never be as high as Scott’s or John’s but he’s still Alan’s big brother, and Alan feeds on reassurance and praise. Virgil knows that both Scott and John will be in later to check on their youngest too, but for now, Alan needs him.

“You did well today, kiddo,” Virgil says, leaning against the doorframe to Alan’s suite. His littlest brother is lying flat on his back staring up at the ceiling.

Alan blinks slowly, twists to meet his eyes. Overly-bright cornflower blues meet steady browns and Virgil catches the tremble of Alan’s lower lip with an aching heart.

“You did, Allie.” Virgil strides across the room and has Alan scooped into a hug within seconds. “All those people are gonna wake up tomorrow because of you.”

“It doesn’t feel like enough, Virg,” whispers Alan. “So many people didn’t make it.”

“I know.”

(The weight on his chest and struggle to breathe will never let him forget it).

Alan sighs, rests his head on his brother’s broad chest. “I just - I keep remembering her face. When she realised I couldn’t save her. I close my eyes and she’s just - there.” He closes his eyes and digs the heels of his palms into them.

He’s so young. It’s not the first time that Virgil has had doubts about forcing this responsibility on a teenager, but it is the first time Alan’s watched someone die in his arms and none of Virgil’s carefully crafted words will change that. Especially not now, whilst the pain is raw and jagged and demanding to be felt - no, Virgil and his brothers will be helping him to untangle this over the next few weeks.

“Wanna play something?” he asks instead.

The response is less enthusiastic than usual, but soon Alan has a fragile smile on his lips as he thrashes Virgil’s Princess Peach with Waluigi (and so what if Virgil deliberately chooses the tracks he knows he’s shit at just to make Alan chuckle when he falls off Rainbow Road again?).

His water-loving brother won’t be so easy (though of course, there’s nothing easy about watching someone so young trying to carry the weight of the world). Still, Gordon is at least predictable in his frustrated misery and rolls his eyes as he sees Virgil coming towards the pool with a towel in hand.

“I’m not in the mood, Virg,” he calls, before hurling himself underwater and sinking to the bottom of the pool.

It’s Virgil’s turn to roll his eyes, but he kicks off his shoes, sits on the poolside and dangles bare feet into the water, waiting. When Gordon finally emerges from the water, annoyance flickers across his face at the sight of his waiting brother, and he turns, kicking away from Virgil with a powerful breaststroke.

Virgil waits until Gordon’s swum four lengths before speaking. “How are you doing?”

Gordon’s perfect rhythm barely falters as he grabs his brother’s leg and yanks, pulling Virgil into the pool and immediately swimming away. Virgil shakes the water from his hair, internally cursing his stubborn-ass younger brother and treads water until Gordon reaches his end of the pool again.

“How many lengths is that?”

Gordon ignores him, switching fluidly into butterfly stroke and splashing away from him once more.

Virgil can’t help but sigh; his limbs are aching and his chest is heavy and he wants nothing more than to curl up in bed. But his younger brother is hurting - emotionally, sure, judging by the way he’s slicing through the water like it’s done him wrong, but physically too if the minute winces are anything to go by. (And Virgil can’t stand it).

The next time Gordon comes by, Virgil is ready. He seizes his brother around the middle, and bodily drags him to the edge of the pool. He doesn’t often use his size and strength against his brothers, but this time calls for it. Once out of the water, the fight goes out of Gordon, and he staggers, murmuring “ow, ow, ow, ow.”

“Come here, you idiot.” Virgil pulls Gordon into a shady spot by the loungers, and begins helping Gordon stretch out overworked muscles. Gordon hisses as Virgil presses down on his calf muscle. “Sorry, Gordo.”

“S’okay.” Gordon glares up at the sky. “Just stupid cramp.”

Rolling his eyes, Virgil shakes his head. “Yeah, that or the fact you’re reliving your Olympic training after having been up for forty-eight hours straight.”

“You know if you keep doing that, your face will get stuck.”

Virgil pulls a hideous face, then grins in response to Gordon’s laugh. It feels good to smile, it shifts the weight on his lungs the tiniest bit.

“Flip over and I’ll do your back.”

“Virgil Tracy, you’re a goddamn saint,” Gordon declares, obediently flopping onto his stomach.

There’s a pause whilst Virgil runs expert hands over the rock-like knots in Gordon’s back and Gordon melts into the mattress. When Virgil next speaks, his voice is gentle even as his hands dig in: “You know that punishing yourself isn’t going to bring them back.”

Gordon tenses then sighs. “Damnit, Virg. Can’t a guy get a massage without psychoanalysis?”

But his voice is a great deal lighter than it would have been even half an hour before.

His wrists are aching by the time he drags himself out to the cliff edge where Kayo likes to perch.

His brothers have different uses for this particular stretch of rock: Scott likes to end his morning runs here by stretching in the breeze off the waters. For John, it’s a spectacular place to stargaze, not least because it’s so very quiet and dark up here. Gordon can often be found diving off these rocks, cheered on by Alan, much to the constant stress of their oldest brother, who attributes more than seventy percent of his grey hairs to this cause.

For Kayo, it’s a watchpost. Her stormy eyes skim the horizon for non-existent threats, calculating, calm, controlled. And after a bad rescue (or three), she sits and waits for hours at a time, gazing into choppy waves and brilliant sunsets with the loneliest eyes Virgil has ever seen. He’s supposed to sit with Kayo in silence until she tells him what she needs from him, be it a hug, his presence, or just distance.

This time, she makes it clear the moment he pads towards her, fading into the rocks like she was never even there. Distance, then.

John is possibly the hardest to handle of all his siblings, purely because he’s the hardest to get a hold of. John knows Virgil’s antics only too well, knows that a meaningful conversation about how he feels is coming, and has therefore made himself scarce.

Virgil sighs as John misses (read: rejects) his third call in a row. Two can play at that game, Jonny.

Instead, he dials straight through to EOS.

She answers him immediately, as usual. “Virgil. I have been anticipating your call.”

“You have?”

“You have all had unsuccessful missions. You always call after missions with a body count.”

Virgil swallows, fresh guilt rising in his throat, and forces it back down.

“Please can you put me through to John, EOS?”

“Of course, Virgil.”

Silence for a second, and then John’s hologram appears. His red-headed brother is studiously avoiding eye contact, hands darting over controls in an anxious pattern.

“This isn’t a good time, Virgil, I’m busy rerouting some calls to local emergency services, and-”

“John.”

“-and there’s a call from Tehran that really needs me, so if that’s all-”

“John.”

Silence.

“How long since you last ate?”

John’s eyes meet Virgil’s and he looks away at once. “Uh… this morning?”

“Negative,” EOS chimes in, “last intake was twenty-six hours ago.”

John’s jaw clenches. “Thanks, EOS.”

“John, you need to eat.”

“Smother Brother.”

“I’m serious.”

EOS pipes up again, “John also needs to rest. He has been operating for twice the recommended period of time.”

John glowers, but says nothing.

“Don’t make me set Scott on you.”

“You wouldn’t.”

Virgil raises his eyebrows and John sighs loudly in frustration. “I will. I will. I just - thinking about food makes me feel nauseous. Like…” He swallows, looks away. “Like I’m eating mud.”

The sharp hurt in Virgil’s heart twinges violently and he wishes more than anything he could wrap John up in a bearhug and stop the world from hurting him. “What if I’m here whilst you try?” he asks softly.

Another sigh. “Fine. But only if you eat something too,” John says. “Don’t think I didn’t notice that your stomach was growling even louder than Two’s engines on the way home.”

“Smother Brother,” Virgil’s voice is hopelessly fond, even as he goes to make a sandwich that he can’t face eating (which for him, is a bad sign - he who has forced down Grandma’s inedible chilli through sheer willpower and love). The bread is hard and tasteless, the filling bitter. He chokes down a half slice, focusing instead on the fact that his younger brother is carefully chewing at his toasted bagel, eyelids heavy. Eventually, John’s shoulders slump, and his head lolls back into slumber.

His work here is done.

Well, almost -

“Hey, EOS?”

“Yes, Virgil?”

“Can you put that playlist I made him on a loop?”

“Of course, Virgil. Venus Bringer of Peace is now playing.”

There.

His oldest brother is hurting. Virgil doesn’t need ESPN or whatever freaky connection Gordon and Alan accuse them of having to know that.

There was a death toll, and therefore Scott will be hurting. Every life lost becomes a personal fault for the man, and nothing Virgil says or does will change that. They have this argument every two or three weeks, increasingly frequently as the months since their father’s disappearance have ticked into years. And he’s so very tired of rehashing the same words over again and again, he’s so tired of being utterly powerless against his brother’s borderline suicidal recklessness, he’s so tired of his uselessness in convincing Scott to stop treating his life like some replaceable trinket.

(So very, very tired).

And yet, Virgil stands in the doorway to his father’s office, bracing himself for yet another battle with his older brother.

Because taking care of the idealistic, brash, self-flagellating workaholic is what he does best - especially when said idealistic, brash, self-flagellating workaholic least wants it.

Scott is hunched over the desk, poring over debriefs with an almost-empty glass of something amber in his left hand. Virgil makes a mental note to re-encrypt the code to the drinks cabinet - Scott had cracked it far too quickly last time, but he doesn’t stand a chance against John…

“Hey, Scott,” he finally enters the room, but his brother doesn’t even spare him a glance. Virgil takes the seat opposite him - the one he used to sit in as his father waxed lyrical about his dream of an elite rescue organisation (it hurts) - and waits.

After five or so minutes, Scott looks up blearily, blinking in surprise. “Virg? What are you - when did you-”

“It’s gone midnight, Scott. We agreed you wouldn’t do this anymore.”

A muscle in Scott’s jaw twitches. He’s wound tight from alcohol and stress, and it hurts Virgil to see it. “I have to get this done.”

“Not at one am, you don’t.”

“Don’t start, Virg, you know debriefs are essential - you know I have to - to -”

“To what?”

“What?”

“What do you mean?”

“What do you have to get done? What’s so important that it can’t wait till you’ve at least slept?”

Scott breaks - quicker than usual (thank you, whiskey) which is a relief, because Virgil’s energy is down to its last droplets; hell, it’ll be a miracle if he even makes it to his room after this.

“To figure out where we fucked up! To explain to the fire services that we did fuck-all for their rescue efforts! To figure out why I wasn’t fast enough to get to those children! I have to - to know,” he flings himself to his feet and begins pacing. “Fifty-four people died today, that’s fifty-four lives we should have saved, and I have to know why we failed so it never happens again.” He slams both hands down on the table, scattering papers to the floor. His eyes are wild and slightly bloodshot, and Virgil’s heart aches for the pain in those cerulean blues.

The fight leaves Virgil’s spirit, because for once, he’s having a hard time reconciling his own failings with the number of bodies he’s pulled from mud and rock today. Usually, he is the first to reassure his brothers that they did all they could. But on a day like today, with the weight of whatever-it-is on his chest, it’s just not good enough.

But that doesn’t mean he’s going to leave Scott alone in his pain.

“What can I do?” Virgil asks quietly, and Scott stares at him.

A pause. “Just - just be here,” Scott allows at last, sinking back into his chair.

“Always,” Virgil says, and he means it, even through the fog of this exhausted, low, heavy feeling.

“You okay?” Scott says, looking him over with a frown, and Virgil curses internally, because of course, Scott notices what none of his other siblings have.

“As much as any of us are right now,” Virgil answers, as honestly as he can. Scott clearly doesn’t quite believe him, because he keeps shooting Virgil surreptitious glances laden with concern, but he lets it go. Perhaps he too lacks the energy to fight him on this.

(It’s not enough and Virgil knows it. It’s not enough to stop his brother from working himself into an early grave and it’s not enough to blame poor construction work for the collapse of a tower block when he should have been able to save them).

(He’s not enough).

He’s exhausted. He had thought he was shattered before, but now -

The heaviness in his chest is a gaping wide hole, and the edges are raw and ragged from trying to hold himself together. His throat closes and clogs, but the tears won’t come, even as misery wells inside of him.

He looks blankly at the piano he sometimes uses to pull himself back from edges like these - edges that plunge down, down, down into an abyss he daren’t explore. Only the tug in his chest isn’t there. The canvas on his easel remains blank, his paintbrush untouched. Hell, even the idea of a nice, hot shower has him cringing at the effort and self-care involved.

What the hell’s the matter with him?

He can’t quite explain it, and for one usually so attuned to others’ emotions, this awful lowness is startling. Because it’s more than lowness, and it’s more than heaviness - it’s more like a complete absence of feeling, an emptiness that he doesn’t know how to name.

Perhaps, it will shift in the morning. Perhaps, this is the consequence of pushing yourself to over-exhaustion and beyond, and then expelling what little energy remains to support your loved ones. Sleep will help, Virgil tells himself. Rest makes everything better, you will be better in the morning.

#thunderbirds are go #virgil tracy #littleoldrachel writes #not wolfstar #happy belated birthday nutty!

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