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gottalovesae · 19 days ago

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Operation: Cupid ✩ Oscar Piastri

Characters: Oscar Piastri x fem! reader, Lando Norris x fem! reader (platonic)

Summary: Lando playing matchmaker and trying to get his two best friends together in the most desperate and dramatic ways that only he could pull off. Oscar just being done with his friends antics and reader who just plays along.

1,750words

Warnings: brief indications showing reader is in the medical field.

Yours Truly: so tell me why I didn't notice until today that I accidentally posted this story unfinished. I woke up to notifications confused. So instead of deleting I'll finish it after my work shift. So full story will be completed by 5pm. Thank you to those who've already liked 🤍

Lando Norris has two goals in life at the moment: win the drivers championship and to get his two best together. Ever since Lando introduced them he could see that they were just perfect for each other.

Oscar Piastri, his teammate, was a brilliant driver, no doubt. Fast and focused, but also painfully oblivious. And Y/N, his best friend since diapers, intelligent, down to earth, and wit sharper than the Monaco hairpin.

And they were both, individually, one of Lando's closest friends. The problem? They were perfect for each other. An undeniable chemistry brewing between them whenever they were in the same room, a series of shared glances, jokes, and banter that Lando quickly noticed.

They always admired each other from afar, never too close, afraid to pass an imaginary line. The pieces were right there. They just needed a little.nudge. A nudge that came in the form of Lando Norris. He calls it Operation: Cupid.

Lando has tried everything, and I truly mean everything.

First, Lando "accidentally" double booked the same fancy restaurant for dinner with both Oscar and Y/N on the same night. He acted surprised when they both showed up and suggested that they all just have dinner instead. He bribed the waiter to give them the romantic corner table with candles and the best view. He pictured romantic glances, whispered conversations, maybe even a shared plate of pasta. In reality, dinner was spent locked in a heated debate about the best types of pizza dough. Both parties failed to notice the work Lando put into the evening. Strike one.

Then Lando tried "forced proximity." On a road trip, he "arranged" for Oscar and Y/N to ride in the same rental car. He expected shared bags of snacks, giggling over inside jokes, and singing along to karaoke, but yet again his hopes were just way too high. Oscar, the ever responsible one, meticulously mapped out a safe route, and Y/N spent the travel catching up on sleep with her her head conveniently (and infuriating so) rested on the window, and not Oscar's shoulder. Lando wanted to pull his hair out. Strike two.

The next attempt Lando came up with was a "team bonding" exercise. He convinced half the paddock (who were unwillingly dragged into this) plus her to go out for a weekend of... paintball. Yes, that's right people paintball. Again, Lando was expecting cutesy couple-ly stuff like them working together taking people down, having each others backs, and celebrating together when they won. Yet again he was wrong. Instead, Y/N with terrifying accuracy, had accidentally shot Oscar in the… well, let's just say it was a sensitive area. Oscar, in retaliation, had unleashed a wave of paintballs upon Y/N with the intensity of a warrior. Honestly Lando should've seen it coming knowing how competitive they both get. By the end of the weekend, both were covered in bruises and barely speaking to each other. This was strike three.

Lando was really desperate now. He truly did try everything. This next idea in his head would have to be the best performance of life. He swears this will work in the name of love.

Lando calls this plan "The Sidewalk Serenade."

The midday sun beat down on the Monaco sidewalk with relentless intensity. Lando Norris, professional racing driver and amateur Cupid, lay dramatically on the pavement limbs sprawled out, feigning unconsciousness with a dedication usually reserved for battling Max Verstappen for the lead on the final laps of a race.

"Ugh...the.the heat..t.o.o..much." he groaned, theatrically flailing his arms. He'd practiced this fall in his head for three days, meticulously calculating the right angle without actually cracking his skull.

A part of him, the small, rational part that hadn't been completely taken over by his determination that Oscar and Y/N were destined for each other, screamed that this was utterly ridiculous. He, Lando Norris, Formula 1 superstar, was pretending to faint on a public sidewalk. But the larger, more persistent part of him, the part fueled by the power of friendship, and a alarming amount of caffeine was completely unashamed. This was "Operation: Cupid," and damn it, he was going so see this through.

Across the street, Oscar Piastri stood frozen in a mixture of disbelief and extreme embarrassment. He'd been on his way to grab a quick lunch when he'd spotted Lando's..performance. His jaw hung, baffled.

"Lando?" he called out, his voice laced with exasperation and genuine concern. "What in the actual hell are you doing?"

Lando, maintaining his commitment to the charade, continued to groan. "Help...me... see...lights.."

Oscar sighed, running a hand through his hair. He considered turning around and pretending he hadn't seen anything. He really did. But the thought of Lando genuinely collapsing from heatstroke, however unwillingly, forced him forward and right into his friends trap.

As Oscar approached, he noticed a figure hurrying towards them from the opposite direction. It was Y/N. And the other half of Lando's audacious matchmaking scheme.

Y/N's brows were furrowed with concern. "What's going on here? Lando! Are you alright?" she asked, kneeling beside him and immediately checking his pulse.

He..he just collapsed," Oscar stammered, slightly reeling back awkwardly suddenly very, very aware of Y/N's proximity. "I don't know what happened."

Lando, internally delighted from the success of his elaborate plan, suppressed a grin and managed a weak, "|..I think I need.. a doctor.

Y/N skillfully assessed him. "His pulse is elevated, but regular. He's breathing normally. Lando, can you hear me? Open your eyes."

Lando fluttered his eyelids open, feigning disorientation reaching for her face. "Y/N? Is that..is that you? Am..I..dead?" 'Oh god,' Oscar thinks.

Y/N rolled her eyes, but a small smile played on her lips. "You're not dead, you drama queen. But you are being incredibly troublesome. Oscar, can you help me get him to his feet? He probably just overheated."

Together, Oscar and Y/N helped Lando stand. As he leaned on them, Lando subtly moved, making sure that Oscar and Y/N were practically shoulder-to-shoulder. He even managed to "accidentally" bumped their hands a couple of times.

"Maybe we should get you some water," Oscar suggested, his cheeks slightly flushed.

"And maybe we should check your blood sugar," Y/N added, her eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Unless you've been pulling one of your famous stunts, Lando."

Lando chuckled weakly. "Stunts? Me? Never." He then launched into a completely fabricated story about skipping breakfast and pushing himself too hard at the gym (mind you he hadn't even gone to the gym that day), throwing in a few dramatic pauses for effect.

As they walked towards a nearby café, Lando, hanging heavily between his two unsuspecting targets, felt a surge of victory. Now, all he had to do was fan the flames.

Lando, now miraculously recovered from his "heatstroke," was rambling about a near-miss on the track, but his eyes kept darting between Oscar and Y/N, gauging their reactions.

Oscar, still slightly flustered by the events of the past hour, found himself aware of her. He noticed the way her brow furrowed slightly as she listened to Lando's story, the subtle curve of her lips when she smiled, and the way her eyes sparkled. He had always found her attractive, but today, something felt different.

Y/N, for the most part, was trying her best to ignore Lando's antics and focus on Oscar. She'd always admired his quiet presence and his dedication to his craft. He was clearly embarrassed by Lando's behavior, but he handled it with a grace and good humor that she found endearing. Plus, she had to admit, he looked incredibly good in the afternoon sun, his normally meticulous hair slightly ruffled from their impromptu rescue mission from having to physically lift Lando from the pavement.

As Lando's story finished, he paused dramatically, expecting a reaction from Oscar and Y/N, who were lost in their own little bubble, their eyes locked in a moment of unspoken connection.

Lando cleared his throat loudly. "So..what do you guys think? Pretty crazy, right?"

Oscar and Y/N blinked, startled back to reality.

"Uh, yeah, crazy," Oscar mumbled, his cheeks flushing again.

Y/N nodded in agreement. "Definitely..intense."

Lando grinned, sensing an opening. "Well, I'm starving. How about we grab some dinner later? My treat."

Oscar hesitated, glancing at Y/N. "Actually, I was planning on just ordering in tonight. Big day of practice tomorrow."

Y/N chimed in, "I was going to catch up on some reading, but dinner sounds nice. Unless you're too tired, Oscar?"

Oscar's face lit up like a damn Christmas tree, completely disregarding what he said before. "Not at all! Dinner sounds great. Just the three of us?"

Lando, trying to suppress a smirk, feigned disappointment. "Oh, you know, I actually have a thing. Important..racing..stuff. You two should totally go without me." He winked.

Oscar and Y/N exchanged a look, a silent understanding passing between them.

"Are you sure, Lando?" Y/N asked, her voice laced with amusement.

'Absolutely! Definitely! You guys have fun. I'll catch you later," Lando said, practically shoving them out of the café.

With no choice, they both walked away together and immediately burst out laughing once they were at least a block away.

He's unbelievable," Oscar said, shaking his head. "I can't believe he actually faked a fainting spell."

"He's a terrible actor," Y/N agreed, "but I have to admit, it was kind of...sweet."

"Sweet?" Oscar raised an eyebrow.

"Well, misguidedly sweet in his own Lando way,' Y/N corrected. "He obviously wants us to get together. He's been trying really hard."

"And do you?" Oscar asked, his voice suddenly serious.

Y/N stopped walking and turned to face him. "Do I what?"

Do you want to get together? With me?"

Y/N hesitated for a moment, then smiled. "I wouldn't mind getting to know you better, Oscar. Without Lando's....interference."

"Me neither," Oscar said, his smile mirroring hers. "How about we ditch the restaurant and just grab some pizza? My place, Netflix, no fainting allowed."

"Sounds perfect," Y/N said, her heart skipping a beat.

Lando, watching from across the street, pumped his fist in the air. Operation: Cupid was a success! He might have been a bit over the top, a bit ridiculous, and maybe a little bit manipulative, but he had brought two amazing people together. And that, he decided, was worth any amount of embarrassment.

A few months later, Oscar and Y/N were happily dating, Lando had calmed down with the constant matchmaking attempts. They were thankful for the nudges that brought them together. After all, sometimes the most unexpected connections come from the most ridiculous schemes.

As for Lando, he was already plotting his next matchmaking adventure. There were plenty more lonely hearts in the paddock, and he was determined to find them their perfect match.

After all, what were friends for?

#formula one fanfic #oscar piastri fanfic #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri x you #op81 x reader #lando x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #adri🤍

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raineyconstellations · 10 days ago

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As Long As You’d Like || Reader x Bob

“ Wow, congratulations! “

It had been decided, Robert Reynolds, Bob, would be permitted to leave the tower. Finally after almost a year of counseling and on and off training sessions he was being included in field operations.

You offered him a lopsided smile as you lowered the heat on the pan and wiped your hands on the front of your apron fully turning to take him in. You really couldn’t help the laugh that left your lips as you saw the man before you seemingly trying to fold in on himself. He looked everything but excited, more like a cat that had been harnessed and was about to be thrown out into the world for the first time.

“ I-I’m just not sure I’m…100 percent ready you know. “

He shrugged as he hid his hands in the oversized sleeves of his shirt, but even through the fabric you could already see the nervous fidgeting. His eyes darted left and right, up and down, unsure where it would be safe to rest. You noticed whenever Bob was about to say the worst things about himself he was always reluctant to look you in the eye.

“ Robert Reynolds.”

At the sound of his full name he stiffened, just like a cat that had been spooked and you swore you could hear him gulp down his negative comments. His fingers flexed but they remained at his side refusing to nervously tear at the already sensitive skin surrounding his nails.

“ Give yourself a little more credit bud, I know it’s sometimes a little hard to step back and see our accomplishments but you good sir. You have come a long way from where you started and you should be very proud of that. “

You turned away from him but not before seeing the tops of his ears burn red in embarrassment.

Your attention shifted to the dishes piled up high in the sink and with a sigh you motioned him to step forward and help you. You could have thrown them in the dishwasher, but truth be told you hated those things and washing dishes by hand was always therapeutic. It was also something mundane, something ordinary that Bob had quite taking a liking to helping you with as well.

He stumbled towards the sink , arms raised already memorizing the routine and you without skipping a beat leaned forward and rolled his sleeves up before handing him the dish towel.

“ I guess I could only play Rapunzel for so long. “

“ Bob, even Rapunzel left her tower. I’ll give you a cast iron skillet if it would make you feel better.“

“ Will you be my Pascal. “

“ Only if I’m allowed to sit on your shoulders. “

You splashed him and the both of you shared a couple laughs, while the tension hadn’t completely left him it was at least a little better and those negative words Bob had thought about throwing at himself had burst like the bubbles in the sink.

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After the first mission it was like a bomb had been set off. The team remained busy and poor Bob was strung along without a chance to breathe or even think for that matter. Valentina called it public exposure therapy, aka the team really needed to be seen publicly and garner good press.

For the majority of your time, there was not much you could do but cook for yourself and the furry friends that had been entrusted to your care while everyone else was away. It became quite boring quite fast and on many days you found yourself pacing Bob’s little reading nook dusting the area for what seemed to be the 50th time.

You didn’t want to admit it, but the absence of Bob was felt. While you had been around the team, they would come and go whenever they pleased, but Bob remained a constant presence and now you were missing that presence.

On days where the harsh words of your own conscious were too much to take ; normal, boring, plain - you would take yourself out to explore the city. You would immerse yourself, exploring the food scene discovering what new recipes or ingredients you could bring to the team. You thought about Bob and at the end of everyday, you would bring something back to the tower that reminded you of him.

Sometimes a book, a bookmark, or maybe some teas you thought would help Bob through his sleepless nights or lazy mornings. Sometimes you would even take cuttings from local flowers and press them into the pages of the books you brought home for him. On days you didn’t feel like wondering out, you would leave sticky notes around his nook.

‘ The ole lady said this recipe was good for sore throats . ‘

‘ This one is good for sniffles. ‘

‘ Hearty, packed with potatoes. You like potatoes. ‘

‘ I am Pascal and Pascal is me. ‘

‘ I miss Rapunzel. ‘

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Where he had found you had surprised him. Body curled up in the sofa chair located in his reading nook, head pressed to your chest in what looked to be an uncomfortable sleeping position. A small bubble of drool at the corner of your lips, and one of the books he had finished before leaving on these publicity missions cracked open in your lap.

The more he let his eyes wonder the more he discovered. What had been an empty coffee table beside the chair was now stacked high with a pile of books. Titles he hadn’t seen in his collection before leaving, books that had also been decorated in sticky notes. He picked one up.

‘ Spice cake, Bob likes cinnamon. ‘

‘Saw a cat, looked like Bob. ‘

‘ New shop on 5th, Bob might like. ‘

‘ Weighted blanket for Bob. ‘

Every sticky note was addressed to him and the more he read the more the warmth in his chest grew. It felt full, like at any moment it could burst and he couldn’t help the prickle at the corner of his eyes .

Cause never in his life, did Bob think that he would have someone waiting for him. Someone missing him, who wanted him around so often to do mundane things with like wash dishes, or cook. You were the most normal abnormal thing in his life and he couldn’t help the awful bad thoughts asking him “ Until when? “

“ As long as you’d like.”

He jumped not realizing that he had asked out loud and you grinned as you smacked your lips then closed your eyes and went back to blissful sleep. Your body sinking further into the couch, as if finally finding the perfect state of peace.

As long as he’d like. He smiled as he sat with his back against the couch, laying his head on the tops of your legs where you instinctively ran your fingers through his curls. His eyes closed and all the tension he had felt these past few weeks melted away.

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︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶

#thunderbolts #bob reynolds #robert reynolds #the void #marvel #robert reynolds x reader #bob reynolds x reader #x reader

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liatkolink · 8 months ago

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For people still in denial whether Israel has committed war crimes, here is a comprehensive list of war crimes Israel has committed both before and after Operation Al-Aqsa Flood, the list being taken from the Wikipedia article of war crimes with some notable missing examples being the usage of chemical weapons, famine, disease and apartheid. The 7th of October attack did not occur in a vacuum, but is the product of decades of Israel not being held accountable for its war crimes.

Killing civilians:

Israel/Palestine: Unlawful Israeli Airstrikes Kill Civilians by Human Rights Watch on 15/Jul/2014

‘Not a normal war’: doctors say children have been targeted by Israeli snipers in Gaza – The Guardian on 2/Apr/2024

Israeli attack on Rafah tent camp kills 45, prompts international outcry by Reuters on 27/May/2024

Intentionally killing PoWs:

Israel’s Hush-Up Machine in Action: Denying Story Israel Executed Egyptian Prisoners by Washington Report on Middle East Affairs on 8/Apr/2010

Torture:

Israeli government report admits systematic torture of Palestinians by The Guardian on 10/Feb/2000

Israel/OPT: Horrifying cases of torture and degrading treatment of Palestinian detainees amid spike in arbitrary arrests by Amnesty International on 8/Nov/2023

Israel: Palestinian Healthcare Workers Tortured by Human Rights Watch on 26/Aug/2024

Taking hostages:

Infographic: How many Palestinians are imprisoned by Israel? by AlJazeera on 17/Apr/2022

The thousands of Palestinians Israel arrests, tortures, holds even in death by AlJazeera on 17/Apr/2024

UN report: Palestinian detainees held arbitrarily and secretly, subjected to torture and mistreatment by the United Nations Human Rights Office of the High Commissioner on 31/Jul/2024

Unnecessarily destroying civilian property:

Israel destroys Gaza tower housing AP and Al Jazeera offices by Reuters on 15/May/2021

Israel targets infrastructure in Gaza to ramp up civilian pressure on Hamas, report claims by PBS News on 11/Dec/2023

Widespread destruction by Israeli Defence Forces of civilian infrastructure in Gaza by the United Nations Human Rights Office of the High Commissioner on 8/Feb/2024

Deception by perfidy:

Israeli soldier gives 74-year-old Palestinian woman water then shoots her in the head by Middle East Monitor on 20/Jan/2015

Israeli special forces disguised as doctors kill three militants at West Bank hospital by The Guardian on 30/Jan/2024

NBC News investigation reveals Israel strikes on Gaza areas it said were safe by NBC News on 26/Apr/2024

Wartime sexual violence:

Stripped, beaten and blindfolded: new research reveals ongoing violence and abuse of Palestinian children detained by Israeli military by Save the Children on 10/Jul/2023

Israel/oPt: UN experts appalled by reported human rights violations against Palestinian women and girls by the United Nations Human Rights Office of the High Commissioner on 19/Feb/2024

‘Everything is legitimate’: Israeli leaders defend soldiers accused of rape by AlJazeera on 9/Aug/2024

Pillaging:

The Biblical Pseudo-Archeologists Pillaging the West Bank by The Atlantic on 28/Feb/2013

Jewish Soldiers and Civilians Looted Arab Neighbors' Property en Masse in '48. The Authorities Turned a Blind Eye by Haaretz on 3/Oct/2020

Israeli soldiers boast about looting from Gaza by AlJazeera on 14/Feb/2024

Any individual that is part of the command structure who orders any attempt to committing mass killings:

Netanyahu incites violence by casting protesters as clear and present danger by Middle East Eye on 30/Jul/2020

Israeli minister's call to 'erase' Palestinian village an incitement to violence, US says by Reuters on 1/Mar/2023

Netanyahu cites 'Amalek' Theory to justify Gaza Killings by Times of India on 29/Oct/2023

Database exposes 500 instances of Israeli incitement to genocide in Gaza by TRT World 4/Jan/2024

Genocide:

The Genocide of the Palestinian People: An International Law and Human Rights Perspective by Center for Constitutional Rights on 25/Aug/2016

Genocide Warning: Israel & Palestine by Genocide Watch on 21/May/2021

A top U.N. court says Gaza genocide is 'plausible' but does not order cease-fire by npr on 26/Jan/2024

‘Reasonable grounds’ to believe Israel is committing genocide in Gaza, UN rights expert says by CNN on 27/Mar/2024

Is Israel Committing Genocide in Gaza? New Report from BU School of Law’s International Human Rights Clinic Lays Out Case from Boston University Today on 5/Jun/2024

Ethnic cleansing:

UN Human Rights Council: ‘Israel engaging in ethnic cleansing’ by the European Union Parliament on 23/Mar/2011

Israel's ethnic cleansing in Palestine is not history - it's still happening by Middle East Eye on 22/May/2019

UN expert warns of new instance of mass ethnic cleansing of Palestinians, calls for immediate ceasefire by the United Nations Human Rights Office of the High Commissioner on 14/Oct/2023

‘Plan for ethnic cleansing’: Israel’s north Gaza siege sets off alarms by AlJazeera on 22/Oct/2024

Granting of no quarter despite surrender:

White Flag Deaths Killings of Palestinian Civilians during Operation Cast Lead by Human Rights Watch on 13/Aug/2009

Investigators: Israel fired on Gaza civilians carrying white flags by The Electronic Intifada on 28/Jan/2015

3 hostages killed by Israeli soldier in Gaza were waving a white flag, Israel says by npr on 16/Dec/2023

A group of Palestinian men waving a white flag is shot at, killing 1 by NBC News on 24/Jan/2024

She was fleeing with her grandson, who was holding a white flag. Then she was shot by CNN on 26/Jan/2024

Two brothers shot by Israeli forces in Khan Younis, white flag ignored by AlJazeera on 29/Jan/2024

Conscription of children in the military: First one where I couldn't find anything. Way to go, Israel!

Flouting the legal distinctions of proportionality and military necessity:

Israel violates the principles of necessity, proportionality in its attacks on Gaza by Euro-Med Human Rights Monitor on 13/May/2023

Enough: Self-Defense and Proportionality in the Israel-Hamas Conflict by Just Security on 6/Nov/2023

War Crimes and Accountability: The Case Against Israel’s Military Operations in Gaza by JURIST News on 5/Jul/2024

#Israel #Palestine

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renshengs · 5 months ago

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hmm i do think that danmei and dangai (censored danmei cdrama adaptations) being many non-chinese fandom people's first impression of chinese media has given them some misconceptions about mainstream chinese media, and it shows in a way that i find very frustrating when seeing discussions about cdramas on here. dangai dramas aside, even if government censorship didn't exist, the chances of your favorite cdrama gay ship becoming canon is about as high as the chances of any of those iconic homoerotic male friendships in a western TV show becoming canon. which is to say: extremely low.

what i think is that internationally huge danmei fandoms like mdzs and tgcf and drama adaptations like cql and shl have really fucked with people's conceptualization of danmei, in that they're using it as this reference point when analyzing relationships in all other forms of cn media, including cdramas and chinese games, which then manifests into people making very bold, very dubious claims about "queercoding" because 2 characters from a random cdrama reminds them of the one or two danmeis they'd encountered that shaped their entire perception of chinese media. basically it's this meme:

many people here need to understand that cdramas and chinese films are obviously mainstream forms of fictional media in china, just like how the mcu or the doctor who franchise is mainstream in the US and UK, or like shonen is mainstream in japan. not to burst your bubble of happy ignorance, but homoromantic relationships such as qingming/boya from the ying yang master are—for lack of a better term—fujobait. they are fujobait. bromances, because those sell well and everyone knows it. popular ships like bakudeku were not actually made canon in mha because shonen is mainstream, and in most industries geared toward maximizing capital, having full-on gay people front and center is considered a monetarily risky move. which sucks, of course, but china is absolutely no different. i promise you that if the govt removed their censorship laws for TV broadcasts, your favorite gay ship from mysterious lotus casebook or the blood of youth or fangs of fortune still wouldn't be canon. they might be allowed a bit more intimacy due to the lack of restrictive filtering, but they are not going to be sucking face for the same reason that gojo and geto from jjk didn't suck face.

danmei is still widely considered niche and risky in china, and if you haven't seen the recent news, authors are still getting arrested for writing it. assuming that chinese fiction, mainstream chinese fiction in particular, operate like dangais where the two guys with the most gay tension would be made explicitly canon were the censors to be lifted, is frankly pretty ridiculous. dangai dramas are adapted from danmeis, which are stories centered on a gay romance and narratively depend on the two guys falling in love. non-dangai dramas are very much... not that, hence why people shouldn't watch them expecting a censored danmei and then forcing assumptions of "my ship would be canon if only it weren't for censorship" on them.

it's very clear when someone who knows absolutely nothing about the actual situation with danmei and queer existence and mainstream TV censorship in china is trying to push their, if i put it crudely, "boss baby meme" perspective onto cmedia. fandom is all about poking at interactions between your favorite characters and giggling and speculating, but i think lots of fandom people (many of them safe in the pockets of their more progressive areas) view govt censorship as this big abstract dam that, if broken, would result in the canonization of all their favorite ships, which is not only an incredibly naive belief but also one that shows how much they view TV censorship as more of a personal inconvenience that's preventing their favorite ships from kissing on screen instead of the looming, deep-rooted issue depriving mainland chinese people of creative freedom it actually is. with cmedia fandoms there's a specific widely popularized "they're so gay omg how did censorship not notice" gag when there's any perceived homoromantic undertones in a story that's both rather insensitive and also ignorant, and many dangai and cdrama fandoms in particular (donghua fans too, link click shippers i'm looking directly at you) could really use some more education and sensitivity regarding this.

i've been in danmei & cdrama fandom spaces for years and post-pandemic this kind of nonsense has definitely gotten worse, especially when you compare shipping discussions here to shipping discussions in cn fandoms. here every 2 seconds someone makes an off-color censorship joke about tgcf donghua and over on douyin they are straight up commenting under the nezha sequel announcement post if there's going to be an oubing kissing scene. granted i obviously cannot see or know everything going on in cn fandom spaces because they are incomprehensibly enormous, but in all the spaces i've been in i've never seen a single censorship joke from anyone. why do people here absolutely insist on making them?

anyway. fandom be normal about chinese media challenge!

#messy ramble post. if any of this is incoherent just climb into my inbox #for what it's worth. none of my favorite cdrama gay ships are canon EXCEPT for the dangais and i don't need them to be. why would i #imo there's a difference between being like haha this is just like that danmei trope vs “[obvious fujobait (affectionate)] is REAL”#sheng says stuff #cdramas #danmei #fandom #fuck it. mass tagging for once #mdzs #tgcf #word of honor #the untamed #mysterious lotus casebook #the blood of youth #fangs of fortune #nif is a special case where the original novel was going to be a danmei before the author changed her mind. still not really canon tho

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divinerapturesys · 2 years ago

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Welcome to my Ted Talk about AsPD, or Antisocial Personality Disorder, which the internet likes to coin as sociopath 👌🏻 if you don’t like long infodumps about stigmatized mental disorders from someone who is diagnosed, move on.

Quick toxic rundown: People with AsPD are generally characterized as emotionless, violent, manipulative abusers who kill animals and like to make other people their bitches. The biggest pet peeve we have is the emotionless, sadistic and abusive generalization.

Personally, we are highly neurotic, with highs and lows of: depression, frantic drive, self abuse tactics, chronic fear, lapses of rejection, overwhelming over-analyzation, grey area thinking, false goods and false bads, ultimatums, obsessive compulsive behavior, harsh self demands, and irritability.

AsPD is a disorder that is caused primarily (according to current research) by trauma and abuse in childhood; most notably being emotional neglect and absent caregivers that cause a child to have emotional shutdowns and repression episodes in an attempt to self soothe. Primary caregivers who do not bond with their children are also a factor. Children learn how to behave from those around them. If a primary caregiver is emotionally distant and unavailable, children will learn that is normal behavior and that’s how people are. If a primary caregiver does not provide empathy and sympathy during moments of distress and fear, children will learn that aloofness and disregard of others feelings is normal behavior. If a primary caregiver does not keep a child safe, children will learn that they should not prioritize their own safety or the safety of others. You can find my follow up post regarding this here.

Neglected and abused children often act out trying to get attention and help, often acting out in bad ways because they lack the ability to articulate what they’re feeling and what is happening to them. The pipeline for AsPD typically is: Oppositional Defiance Disorder as a child, Conduct Disorder as a teen, AsPD as an adult. There are a lot of warning signs cueing that AsPD is becoming a risk for development, but often kids do not have a support system to help negate it as it’s their support system that is usually a factor in its creation.

Being AsPD is like being an emotional La Croix 70% of the time. If you’re depressed, then it’s like someone in the other room has depression and is telling you about it. The other 30% of the time, if you’re depressed, your brain doesn’t understand how to handle it so it’s an ultimatum between doing something drastic to remove the Trigger or ignoring and dissociating for days on end.

People with AsPD are very good at ignoring things. Honestly it’s problematic as fuck but it’s not hard to ignore major issues when you just, don’t care. It’s not in the terms of being cruel or making ourselves not care, but the fact that finding the emotional willpower is so far out of our feasible reach we don’t do it. This causes us to piss people off because we don’t have the capacity to care as much as they want us to, even if we can and do to an extent.

Think of it this way: empathy/sympathy is a deep tub of water that everyone has. They can easily fill their measuring cup for the needed amount of empathy without any issues and it’s easy for them. People with AsPD don’t have a tub of water. We have shallow skillet. When we try to dip our cup to fill it, we can’t, it always comes up short and it is difficult to get any water in it as there is no room for the cup to dive. Our ability to care is limited because we do not have the same emotional resources everyone else does.

❌ False Positives & False Negatives ❌

I operate on what I’ve learned are called false positives and false negatives. These are things that are trained into the brain from an early age based off of childhood trauma and other factors. False positives are a distorted version of why we do something to help ourself and for our own good, meanwhile a false negative is something we do because it’s a threat, or based out of fear.

❌ Some of my false positives:

- It is good to be afraid of nothing

- It is good to adapt to someone’s personality if they are stronger than you

- It is good to isolate yourself

- It is good to be a silver tongue because you can get into any place you want

- It is good to become a social chameleon and shape yourself to whatever those around you need/want most, because then you have no chance of being abandoned

❌ Some of my false negatives, which can explain the false positives as well as core beliefs:

- it is bad to be afraid, if I am afraid then I am vulnerable and it can be used against me

- It is bad to be emotional or show concern for others emotions because they do not care for mine

- It is bad to be able to be exploited, because I believe it is everywhere

- It is bad to allow myself to be bored, because boredom begets bad thoughts and no one can or wants to help me when I spiral

- It is bad to not shape yourself to the social circle, because people quickly grow tired of those who do not match them perfectly and being discarded means I failed

My core beliefs can be viewed as the root for the false positives and negatives, because they are based on the core of trauma, abuse and neglect. They come from patterns and instances that make someone with AsPD become the opposite of what they experienced:

- eat or be eaten

- If I don’t show that my bite is worse than my bark, I will be taken advantage of and I must remain on top because the ones on top are safe

- I must look out for myself because nobody will do it for me

- It doesn’t matter what happens to me, therefore it doesn’t matter what people think of me

- If I cannot do something well, then I should not do it at all

- If you are dependent on others for emotional and mental well being, you are weak, therefore I must isolate myself to avoid becoming codependent and a burden and useless

- If I can handle the stress of a situation better than everyone else, therefore I will keep the problem (financial, emotional, mental, etc) to myself to reduce chances of being abandoned due to failure of perfection

People with AsPD are hard to get along with. We often:

- are always anticipating a fight

- lack respect for authority

- ignore social structures to an extent

- tendency to lie if it’ll lessen punishment or if we feel the lie is more acceptable than our actions

- limit social support because it’s wrong to be dependent on others

- have an inflated view of our own importance — which turns into a self ridicule for believing someome like me could be found important to others —

- can be rude and inconsiderate of others feelings somewhat unintentionally

- are unable to read the correct social cues in relation to empathy towards people and animals

- am constantly confused by others dependence upon empathy and inability to make desicions from logic based standpoints

We can’t speak for everyone who has AsPD, nor are we saying that no one with AsPD is capable of being a murderer/abuser etc. but we are saying that y’all need to stop automatically classifying someone as a certain “type” as soon as you know about their disorder.

One last thing I do want to point out is that it is not uncommon for people with AsPD to derive some sort of enjoyment in causing harm, doing something illegal, hurting someone or animals, etc. This entirely stems from lack of environmental control as a child. Being able to control what happens to others or being able to control the things you say or do that hurts someone else is a hefty high to get addicted to; it soothes the underlying itch of not being able to control your own trauma and abuse, so in turn you push these behaviors onto others and enjoy it because it gives you a sense of power and control. Some people with AsPD do genuinely love hurting others, and some enjoy hurting others when they believe it’s deserved or their ire has been stoked. Some enjoy causing pain to those they think deserve it, and others don’t care who they hurt as long as they feel like they’re in control of the situation.

Hope this have some insight into AsPD 🤙🏻 if y’all have any questions, shoot.

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angel-kin · 5 months ago

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A Comprehensive ICE Encounter Guide.

So, because of a recent uptick in ICE raids and Trump removing pretty much all remaining protection for immigrants, I've decided to compile a bunch of research and resources to help you know your rights. Specifically to combat the risky and even down right dangerous advice going around. Knowing your rights whether you're an immigrant or not is important, and can enable you to help your friends, family and community.

Disclaimer: I am not your lawyer, do your own research! Especially if you or your family are high risk (visibly BIPOC).

Firstly, what to do if you are stopped by ICE or Police.

Stay calm.

Don't resist.

Keep your hands visible at all times.

Memorise important phone numbers (family, lawyer), or keep them on you at all times.

Do NOT lie about your status.

Carry your immigration papers or ID on you at all times.

Some states require that you give your name to law enforcement if they ask for it, know your states laws, and do not lie.

If you're asked to show your immigration papers, you must if you have them on you.

Do not say anything to them, do not sign anything, do not make decisions without lawyers. Exercise your right to silence.

If you are without your papers, EXERCISE YOUR RIGHT TO SILENCE, say "I would like to remain silent until i speak to a lawyer."

If you're arrested by police, you have the right to a free government appointed attorney. If you're arrested by ICE, you have the right to an attorney but not a free government one, so you should ask for a free or low cost list of attorneys or already have the number for one on you.

You can say no to being searched, they do not have the right to search you without probable cause, the only exception is they may pat you down over your clothes.

If you believe your rights were violated, write down and date everything you remember as soon as you can. Badge numbers, patrol car numbers, names, agencies they're from, witnesses, and file a complaint with the relevant agencies.

What to do when ICE or the police come to your home.

Keep the door closed. It is much safer to speak to them through the door. TEACH YOUR CHILDREN THIS.

Ask: Are you immigration agents? What are you here for? Ask to see their badge through a peep hole or window, ask if they have a warrant and if they do make them slide it under the door or show you through a window.

DO NOT open the door unless they show you a search or arrest warrant signed by a judge specifically naming someone residing in your property or the specific areas to be searched at that specific address. You can find samples of warrants here.

A police arrest warrant allows them to enter the home if they believe that the person is inside BUT a warrant for deportation DOES NOT allow officers to enter the home without consent.

If they do not produce a warrant, or the warrant is just for deportation, say "I do not consent to your entry."

If they force their way in anyways, do not resist. Repeat "I do not consent to your entry or to your search of these premises, I am exercising my right to remain silent, I wish to speak to a lawyer."

Do not lie.

Do not produce false documents.

And do not talk to them or sign anything until you get a lawyer.

Once again, If you believe your rights were violated, write down and date everything you remember as soon as you can. Badge numbers, patrol car numbers, names, agencies they're from, witnesses, and file a complaint with the relevant agencies. In this case, camera footage from home cameras can also be extremely useful, make sure any relevant footage is saved and copied onto several devices.

What to do when ICE or the police come to your work/school/church.

If you're a US citizen and feel safe doing so, record the activity or immediately write down information on what you witnessed, but do not interfere or obstruct the operation. This can include yelling, running, throwing things, and so on.

If you are a citizen, ICE do not have the right to detain, arrest or question you. If they do, tell them you are a US citizen, ask for their name and badge number and say you wish to remain silent until you talk to a lawyer. Then talk to that lawyer about filing a lawsuit for fines and monetary damages. Seriously.

Do not run.

Do not carry false documents.

Say you wish to remain silent and speak to a lawyer.

Do not speak or sign anything until you talk to a lawyer.

Carry a "red card."

In all scenarios, especially for non-English speakers, it's a good idea to carry a know your rights card. The immigrant legal resource center has printable red cards with guidance on it and you can hand it to an officer of any kind and on the back, in English it invokes your right to silence and to a lawyer. This can be presented to the Police or ICE in any situation. Printable versions of these cards in many different languages can be found here. Keep your paperwork and these cards on you and your family, especially your children at all times. Spread the existence of these cards on your social media and in your communities.

The best thing you can do as an immigrant, for you and your family, is just be prepared. For US citizens and those unlikely to be targeted, it's to provide aid and record injustices and violations of rights. But with that, it is so important you do not spread false information or dangerous advice, or misreport any ICE sightings. Local immigrant resource organizations are creating hotlines that the public can report ice sightings to, and they have social media pages too. Find your local one online, and you can get the most accurate information from them. Report any ICE sightings you see to them, too. Spread their existences on your social media and in your communities. But most importantly, stick together and do not let this hard time define our futures. As my favourite poem goes, "You may write me down in history With your bitter twisted lies, You may trod me in the very dirt But still, like dust, I'll rise."

Resources: printable red cards iamerica know your rights cards know your rights, immigrant justice know your rights, aclu

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jazjelspen · 7 months ago

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ex-girlfriend

jeff the killer x fem! reader

(you've dated Jeff the Killer since high school and have known him for longer. You stayed even after he became who he is now.. but what if you became stronger than him? what if you became a completely new person entirely? and left your heavy-hearted killer boyfriend to rot?)

(notes: took inspo from fanon Jeff but also tried to write him into his own person of course :) will try to be realistic when it calls for it + took some creative liberties in certain aspects too. I also apologize if the characterization of Jeff and others isn't super fitting.. I'm still getting used to how I want to express them and construct them as characters and the world around them.)

(CAUTION!!!: includes dark/serious themes, mention of murder/death, use of cannab1s, slight implications of s3x, toxic relationships, physical abu$3, possible ooc(?) )

(NOT PROOFREAD)

[part 1/2]

you and jeff are a killer duo.

seriously and figuratively.

you two have always been attracted to each other, a connection you two couldn't see but you both knew it was there.

the older and closer you two got, the more you two realized you had more in common than you two initially assumed..

way, wayyy more in common.

but to skip a long origin story short, let me give you some details on how you and Jeff suddenly got separated in the way that you did.

you see, you and Jeff resided at the Slender Mansion.. mostly just to get Slender off your backs due to you guys finding solidarity and a sense of safety in the deep dark forests, far away from home. it kept you two safe from police, as well as anyone or anything else that could be a threat.

of course, the specific area you went into was territory of the thin and tall boss of the forests.. and you would've been dead meat if you two didn't create a sort of alliance with the deity, not exactly proxies yet you two still had to trade something in return for your lives.. the lives and bodies of others seemed to quell Slenderman's hunger quite well.

nonetheless, tonight was one of those nights in which you and Jeff had to find more lives to take, blood to shed.

this night was different though, as Jeff was currently stuck in your shared room after going through a minor operation at the hands of Eyeless Jack, another being that came and left as he pleased.

"You think he'll recover quick?" You perked up as you watched EJ sew in the last stitch in a cut that reopened earlier as he was helping Jeff into your room, cutting up the thread before standing back as you two stared at your injured boyfriend from beside the bed he laid on.

"Not as quick as you may think," spoke EJ, his calm, raspy, and slightly demonic voice sounding monotone as he isn't intending to comfort you in the slightest but just to inform you. "Slenderman's healing properties can only work so fast, the rest depends on his own body's will to repair itself."

"Makes sense, with how much the victim fought back and the cops almost got him by a hair.. " you let out a huff through your nose before crossing your arms over your chest and shook your head slightly. "It has never gotten this bad before..." You murmured before moving away to open the door for EJ to find his way out. "I know you don't usually accept 'thank you's but, thanks. I owe you one for saving his ass."

"Hm." hummed the blue masked being. He may have the form of a human, and sound like one to a certain extent.. but he doesn't have the feelings of one for all you knew. "I'm sure you know how to stitch him up again if another injury reopens, I won't be here the rest of the week as I'll be doing my own business elsewhere."

"Got it.." You opened the creaky wooden oak door to let him through, and he left just as fast as he came in.

Closing the door behind you and letting go of the rusty brass door knob, you sighed in exhaustion.

"Yknow, you've been awfully quiet--"

"Shut the fuck up or I'm going to slice your throat."

Your shoulders dropped as soon as you heard Jeff's empty threat escape his throat. You walked closer to him, your shoes making small thuds and the wooden floors creaking beneath your feet.

"There you are." you cooed, finally hearing him talk after being silent the entire time.. incredibly out of character for him yet you were sure the shame of getting as injured as he is now and having to be 'taken care of' definitely got to him. "I almost started missing you."

"Get my knife, get the rest of your shit, and let's move.. we have people to kill for fucks sake.." Jeff's hoarse voice cracked even further as he attempted to sit up yet the pain coming from his abdomen only caused his nerves his fire up, making him fall back onto the moldy mattress yelping in pain. "You're absolutely stupid for even thinking you're able to go out tonight Jeff." You proceeded to sit on the empty side of the bed beside him, your hand slowly reaching over to gently caress his brutally cut up cheek yet your lover only harshly smacked it away with the back of his own hand. "So.. you're telling me you're going to ignore what I fucking telling you to do?" Jeff groveled and huffed in irritation, if he wasn't so incapacitated he'd probably be pulling you by your arm or hair to get you to do what he told you. "Since when have you gotten so brave, doll?"

"Since I followed you and helped you kill your own family that night." You pulled your hand away, reminiscing the night when your Jeff turned into who he is now.

You remembered how much your heart swelled when you saw him covered in his family's blood, his fresh cut up smile and red inflamed burns across his body and face. You continued to love him just as much as you did before he became so disfigured.

He was your religion, and you followed him in devotion.

"Now, we still have to keep our deal with the big boss right? I'll do your kills for the night, then when your better tomorrow we'll finish up whatever else we have to do.. or hell we can just kill for fun to make it up to you, " you hopped off the bed as you spoke and walked over to a wooden rotting vanity in the corner of your room, with drawers that were unable to close and doors that were hanging by their hinges. Your hand reached over to get an empty crunched up ziplock bag and continued on to walk back to your boyfriend with the object in your hand. "What do you say? I'll even get you some of the good stuff to make you feel better." you spoke lovingly, your hand with the bag grazing over his misshapen nose as he inhaled it deeply with a faint sense of delight. It still lingered the smell of his favorite thing to smoke and get high off of.. aside from your kisses and affection of course.

"Fuck that smells good.." he mumbled before his beady black eyes then suddenly shot up at you with this look of angry hesitation. "This is the only damn time I'm ever letting you out of my sight, make it quick, come back, and if you take a fucking second too long I'll get up and drag you back by your hair myself, got it gorgeous?.."

"You won't even have to bother Jeff." you bent over slightly to give him a quick peck on the lips, but just as much as he was addicted to the green he was also addicted to your warmth, your lips, your presence and self.

You couldn't help but have to suddenly sustain your own body weight by resting an arm beside Jeff's head as his own uninjured arm went to grab you by the back of your head to pull you closer in a deeper, much more passionate kiss.

Hearts beating aggressively in a dark passion that was just as fiery and scarlet as the blood you two would spill on the daily, the faint smell of dried blood, mud, and rubbing alcohol reeked as you two struggled to inhale air with your noises clashing against each other, his aggressive and hungry kisses tasting of iron but also of old cigarettes and booze.

Normally this would disgust any one else that wasn't you, but you liked the way he smelled, how he tasted.. it reassured you that this was in fact Jeff, your Jeff.

Eventually, he would finally let you go by harshly pushing you away in order to break the kiss. He knew that if you stayed any longer he was gonna want you all to himself for the rest of the night, as close to him as you physically could.

"Get out of here and get back, ______. Don't make me wait longer than I have to."

You smiled at him, a sweet and sinister little smile that would somehow always get him hard every time you did it.

"You've got nothing to worry about."

two weeks.

two weeks passed since you disappeared that night.

Jeff recovered the night after you left, but you could imagine the absolute horror and rage he felt when he realized you never came back later that night.

With other residents also living in the mansion, residents with personalities and have bits of humanity left similar to Jeff, you can also imagine the slight wave of rumors to those that knew or noticed the two of you in your years in the mansion. Some say you made a deal with Slender and got to leave, others say that you got kidnapped, that you got brainwashed, caught by police, sacrificed to another higher being, stuck in an asylum or- simply that you died. There were endless possibilities but they all ended the same:

you hung Jeff dry, left his grasp and simply didn't come back.

Jeff would obviously try to get in contact with Slenderman as to know your condition, since he knew that the deity had the consciousness and psyches of every being or person he's made some kind of contact with in his hands.

Although he had to go through one, two, three of Slender's proxies, just to have a word with him somehow.. He would eventually get a word from the big boss through one of his more well known lackeys.

"She's fine, Jeffery. She isn't dead, she hasn't made any deals with him, and she isn't injured to death or whatever." the annoyed and exasperated voice of Masky would echo in the empty halls that the pair stood in, the arms of the mustard-yellow colored jacket would fold over his chest while also being in a sort of stance that expressed the fact that he simply just didn't want to be there.

"Then why the hell is she not back?? Does he know where she could be? If she was kidnapped? If she got arrested or put in a fucking ward?" Jeff yelled in an almost desperate sort of tone yet he would never admit it openly.

"Look, I don't fucking care whether she's alive, dead, stuck in a fucking hole or hell! if she's sucking some other guy's dick that isn't yours! But all I know that is that if she left on purpose he would've already had me or one of the others to get her back, but he hasn't so maybe she's nearby or some shit like that."

Anyone around could see that Jeff was on the verge of reaching over for his knife and cut Masky in half, yet he knew better than to do that to him of all people. "Does he at least know where she is?? I'll get her myself if I have to just give me a fucking address, some place to know where she could be!.."

If Masky wasn't wearing a mask, he'd probably be rolling his eyes to oblivion, irritated beyond belief at something like this even being a problem. "No. But as I already fucking said, if he isn't asking one of us to chase her down and get her back then you shouldn't have to overreact the way you are right now." the proxy proceeded to brush past him without a care, but said one last small thing before he left Jeff's vicinity completely.

"By the way, stop bothering the other proxies about this as we could care less about your girlfriend, just get a new one and fuck off!"

Jeff stood there, trembling in an anger he hasn't felt since the day he attacked his bullies and his brother took the blame for it.

He wasn't exactly reassured, but he also knew that he was very limited and there wasn't much he could do.

But he was restless, so you bet your ass he was going to go look for you even if it was just stalking the streets and killing anyone in his wake.

luckily for him, his waiting would end soon enough.

the week after that, he'd get the news of his life.

he'd been killing all week, killing innocents as he usually did but at a quicker and animalistic pace, he would almost get caught this time by the cops yet again but before his spree could continue he received some news thanks to that cheeky voice that would speak to him through the screens.

he would come back to the mansion, battered and bruised beyond belief. the calluses on his hands split and bled, cuts everywhere all old and fresh, he was ruthless in his murders as well as he was careless.

he needed you to ground him, you were the reason as to why he has even been alive for as long as he has.

his hand seemed to be superglued to the handle of his sharpened knife even as he was dragging his legs towards EJ's basement, where he was led to believe he would find what he was looking for.

He aggressively banged on the metal door with his fist in anticipation, not being able to wait any longer than how much he's already had to. The one to answer the door would be Eyeless Jack as it is his "resting" place in the mansion so to speak.

Once the door opened Jeff would quickly push past EJ not needing to be accepted in the space for him to go in.

"Where is she??" he shouted, his voice boasting in the cold concrete room. "I was told you found her, where the fuck is she?"

EJ would calmly close the door before slowly leading Jeff towards a corner of the large space, where a long, clean-white room divider seemed to hide something.

well, more like someone.

That was when Jeff finally saw you, your limp body laying there and your face had this gentle expression you'd usually make when you were sleeping. Beside you stood Nurse Ann, who was gently cleaning the countless cuts and lacerations you had around your body with several cotton pads and changing gauzes as well.

Jeff's heart fell down to his stomach, he would've started reeling and throwing up if he didn't rush to take a closer look at you only to see that your chest was still rising and falling.

He sighed in relief.

"As you can see, she's alive." spoke EJ as he took a few steps closer, "Nurse Ann found her as she was coming back to the mansion, she found her body laying on the edge of where Slender's territory ends and the rest of forest. She also claims that ______ wasn't there when she left, so she probably appeared a little later that same day."

Jeff's hand trembled slightly as he reached out to touch your face with the back of his hand, yet hesitated slightly when his hand could almost feel the warmth of your skin.

But that's when he took a minute to really take in the rest of your appearance.

Your entire body even your face was dirtied in dried mud and soil, your fingernails were dirty and chipped, your arms and cheeks were decorated in scratches and cuts of various sizes, and your clothes.. seemed to have been replaced with a clean hospital gown and your missing shoes were replaced by socks.

EJ continued on, "And so you don't go attacking me, Nurse Ann changed her clothes. According to her they were tattered and beyond repair, and that they were completely soiled in blood."

"Blood?" Jeff spoke up in slight concern,

"The blood wasn't hers."

#creepypasta #jeff the killer #jeff the killer headcanons #jeff the killer x reader angst #jeff the killer x reader #creepypasta fandom #eyeless jack #creepy pasta #crp #creepypasta x reader #creepy pasta fandom #creepypasta x you #creepypasta x y/n #creepypasta headcanon #creepypasta x female reader #jeff the killer x y/n #jeff the killer creepypasta #jeff the killer x oc

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loveemagicpeace · 1 year ago

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🍬Uranus Energy🍬

Uranus may signify death through accident, injury, or natural disaster, but at least it never signifies the death-in-life that is characteristic of Saturn. Thus, although Uranus energies can be extremely difficult to live with, the measure of chaos that they introduce is essential for life. Life is to a great extent a balancing of the orderly forces of Saturn with the chaotic forces of Uranus. Each has its place, and each needs to be kept in check by the other. Uranus represents something very different, very unique. But can also be very strange and unfamiliar. Anywhere you have uranus in your house it shows where your life is the most different. Uranus energies coming too soon in life can cause a chronically erratic quality that prevents any kind of maturation and produces an individual incapable of taking part in the social contract. Such people are automatic rebels: they rebel simply to negate order, even when order is still useful. Whatever it may affect or symbolize takes the form of something unusual, far different from the everyday world.

🦋Uranus in 1st house- you might present yourself differently to others or feel somehow out- of step. You can play a role as outsider, bringing valuable insight to outmoded situations. Your appearance is unique and your beauty can also be original and different from others. These people tend to have a different perspective than the rest. They think and look at life outside the box. You usually don't like things related to systems, you prefer to stick to your own rules. This placement often indicates an unconventional approach to life. This suggests that you are a very individualistic person, who operates the best on their own.

🌱Uranus in 2nd house-Financial fortunes might be subject to sudden changes, perhaps a result of not playing it safe. Income might come from independent freelance sources. Your money can go up and down very quickly. You can also have a different way of making money. This can lead to a unique approach to finances, a deep understanding of personal values, and an unconventional path to self-expression. Another strength of this placement is its innovative, progressive energy. You have a different way of managing your money. You spend a lot of money on things that are more dreamy. You have a free way of managing money and it doesn't mean much to you.

🌱Uranus in 3rd house- Your mind works at lightning speed. You can be single-minded in the way you think, with a talent for presenting the opposite view. Your way of thinking is often contradictory and different from the others. Many times your thinking and manner can confuse other people. This can also mean that your relationship with relatives is distant and cold. Your thoughts are often ahead of their time, leading you to challenge established ideas and concepts. Uranus here can also cause sudden accidents on the road. You have to be careful how you drive.

💕Uranus in 4th house- Early independence may have been high on the agenda. You might opt to rent rather than buy, so you can change the scenery from time to time. At home, you can often be rebellious and do things on your own. The relationship with the mother can be more distant, cold and perhaps strange. You can move a lot and the moves are usually sudden. Uranus can make a home unstable and strange.

🍭Uranus in 5th house-You have potential for genuine creative originality, although your challenge might be to allow it to land and take form, because each idea is rapidly superseded by the next. Your dates are usually sudden, different, and you may always feel that this area is not so close to you. Many times people can suddenly surprise you (positively or negatively) - also many times you don't get an answer as to why something happened the way it did. You can also suddenly fall in love. Pregnancy can happen spontaneously and the child may be born different from the others.

🍸Uranus in 6th house- You probably need some excitement in your daily round. Being freelance might suit you, so you can set your own routine and timetable. You like work that is independent and free. Above all, what you need is freedom - you hate when someone is above you and tells you what to do. Your rebellious path can be most effective through work. But since this house also represents the physical body, health - it means that you may have some disease that is unusual or you may have some skin problems that are unusual.

🛼Uranus in 7th house- You may prefer to break up with someone who curtails your freedom. Partners may seem unpredictable, but perhaps an assertion of your independence is at the root of it. You can go into a relationship suddenly or end it suddenly. Many times you can attract people who are different, strange, unique, smart. You can have certain conditions that you like about the relationship and stick to them. Few meet your standards. But you need a lot of freedom. Uranus can mean that marriage can be sudden. The law, however, can be quite different from normal laws. It suggests an individual who seeks independence, freedom, and excitement within their intimate connections. Uranus in this house indicates that you seek the company of people who have similar views as you do.

🏹Uranus in 8th house- You can shine intellectual light into life's mysteries, bringing clarity and rational discourse. It might be important to you to maintain your distance in intimate encounters. Because it is also the house of transformation, rebirth & things connected with needles, blood also sugerirs. It also means that you can go for sudden surgery. It can also mean a sudden loss. But you can deal with a loss in a different way than others. They are likely to attract unconventional partners who challenge their views on intimacy and shared resources. It can lead to successful relationships, marriages, and beneficial business opportunities. On the other hand, it can also create disruption in relationships due to its unpredictable nature and an unwillingness to conform.

🥊Uranus in 9th house-Going to university or grappling with religious principles can bring enlightenment - but you might also be inclined to question, rejecting orthodoxy and tradition. You can be very rebellious when it comes to church, religion, other culture and you can also be very controversial about that. Cuz you can also have your own religion that you believe in. Your opinion about the world can be completely different and the places that interest you can also be very unusual. You can also travel to places that others would never go. Especially to unpopular places. You can also have a very unpopular opinion about the world things & around you.

🎱Uranus in 10th house-Bowing to authority is not your style and you may choose work which encourages your independent vision and allows you to change track when it suits you. You can also be very rebellious when it comes to authority figures. The career may be in constant motion, but this can make it difficult to identify with a profession. They are often innovative thinkers with a knack for science and technology, and they bring originality and ingenuity into their development efforts. This often leads to unique and inventive career opportunities, an exciting public image, and the potential for innovative and progressive thinking.

🏝️Uranus in 11th house-This placement offers a parodox: how to maintain your freedom and autonomy within a democratic context. You could play the role of agitator, bringing radical change. You can have a unique way of doing things and seeing them. Many times it is strictly seen that you have the characteristics of uranus. U can also have very unique group or friends. This placement suggests that you enjoy taking part in online discussions where you can connect with like-minded people. Uranus here suggests that you are not interested in everyday goals, craved by most people. You have unique visions for your life. But you can also have the feeling that you are quite different from your friends (can also be lonely placement).

🧚🏼‍♀️Uranus in 12th house-Perhaps you hide your unconventionality so as to fit in - reclaiming this can help set you free. Your radar for collective trends can put you ahead of your time. You can also struggle with spirituality, things that are hidden ,unconscious -this doesn't mean that you don't believe in it, but you can have complex believing into this stuff. They may have dreams, intuitions, or sudden insights that challenge societal norms and traditional beliefs. It often happens with this placement that your parents expected a child with a different type of personality. As a child, you felt that you have to live up to their expectations, but you were struggling on the inside. Social conventions annoy you, but you struggle to express this.

🎸For personal readings u can sign up here: https://snipfeed.co/bekylibra 🎸

-Rebekah🎸❤️‍🔥🧚🏼‍♀️

#astrology #energy #zodiac signs #planets #astrological houses #uranus in houses #uranus

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thetravelingtyper · 1 year ago

Text

Our Shattered Heart (Part 1) (GN! 'Heart' Reader x Taskforce 141)

After an injury and recovery, the men of the force find themselves acting a little differently towards you.

Inspired by the Smiths and Cage the Elephant.

Warnings: a building falls, use of song lyrics, protective 141

Part 2, Part 2.25, Part 2.50, Masterlist

SO I POPPED OFF at like 1 am with three shots of brandy lmao

The strings of a bass echoed into the open night. Electric steps, iron bridges, the river. Central town spinning away into the flurry of the night. You were running from phantoms, what had you done but cried into the night? Your phone long since turned off you were afraid to return to the safe house. Made up as a civilian you blend smoothly in, but the oppressive nature of their stares made your eyes water so you took your chance and bailed.

Even in your distress, you admired London proper. You wipe your tears and stop your swift walk. You could hear music? There was a well-lit area a dozen or so yards, (Metric Sergaent) You frown as your Lieutenant’s voice echos in your head naturally. You grit your teeth. Nothing you did was right. In training he’d catch every little mistake, poking out your weaknesses without telling you how to better your stance.

What of Soap and Gaz? Your fellow Sargents and supposed friends. One moment they had your back then after your injury they joined Ghost. Soap would pull you aside and scold you for using your ‘bad leg’ or your hits were too low or high. Gaz just commented after you healed up against you even serving. It took three weeks for you to have enough.

You turn on your phone to check the time, and it rings with a skull icon, you answer it as you can pick up the music.

“Fucking hell Sergeant where are you.”

“Doesn't matter Ghost, Fuck off”.

“Wait, Lo-”

You hang out and toss your phone into the river. You smirk, a sense of relief flooding your tense body. What had your valiant captain done about your concerns? Immediate relocation to a safe house for surveillance, with said team. Nothing of “I’ll talk with Simon” No you got the “You could be a liability so let us have three grown-ass men babysit you in the middle of the city.” You went to protest but he shushed you with a disappointed look that made you reel back.

You weren't British, maybe you didn't meet his standards. He's the one who requested an outside operative all those months ago. You performed top of your class and threw your body and heart into the job working your way into being the face of the team. It was you whom they sent to comfort those who lost loved ones as collateral. Everything changed when you broke orders to save a child.

“Heart, Ghost, Soap Clear Out Now! That is a direct order!”

The building rumbled and air support had’nt arrived. You had about a minute until the whole place collapsed.

“Affirmiative, Sergeants move out!”

Ghost ushered you in front of him and Soap was already running through the dust to get out. But as you turned to run you caught movement.

“Ghost there is someone in there!” You try to trace the movement but Ghosts gloved hand yanked you back as he started towards the entrance.

“No Heart-”

You gasped, there was a girl pinned under rumble! Your instincts take over and you shove out of his gasp with more strength then you ever though you could muster, Ghost stumbles and you book it back as he yells after you.

“GHOST, HEART OUT NOW THE BUILDING IS COMING DOWN!”

He had no choice but to leave you as you threw yourself over the girl. There was a loud rumble then black.

You huff, odviously you had survived and the little girl you pulled out from the rubble survived as well. After the dust cleared the next day, you had lugged a beam off her and you and hobbled her out to seek medical attention. Once the mission had finished Price and the others had rushed back to find empty rubble, it was a joyous mother who led the foreigners back to their Heart. And there you were, in some small village a hero treated to the best they could. All you could offer despite the pain of your leg was a small smile towards to girl who clung to you like a baby.

Soap had about given out before he rushed you with curses, poking and prodding like a mother hen. Gaz laughed, a wholehearted sound like melted caramel and quipped about surviving the sky falling. It was Price and Ghost who were not too keen, but you had a back up. The leaders of the village, who’s daughter and grandaughter you had saved, had what turned out to be excellent intel that you handed to Price with a smirk on your face.

“Fucking Hell.” Was all you gotten from Ghost and his head in his hands with a deep sigh.

What you didn't realize was how big of a deal it was to the Captain and Ghost. Once you got back to base and were put on a 3 month leave was when things soured. You were able to use connections in the village to work intel, something Laswell was grateful for, But Ghost took this personally, giving you almost a disapproving sneer when he would see you out of bed. Price was silent. No yelling, no scolding just silent. Some storm brewed and once you fully healed and went back to training it seemed Ghost tainted Soap. The Scot became overbearing, making less hurtful comments. A Gaz, once level headed, turned into Price’s little shadow, you could tell from their glances they were communicating.

After three weeks of being stationed with them, fully healed mind you, you had enough of walking on egg shells, being the subject of Ghost’s anger and Gaz’s twists and turns. You didn’t snap until Soap had risen his voice after your pacing.

“ENOUGH HEART.”

It caught Ghost and Gaz off guard in the small apartment as you turned wide-eyed. His eyes were stormy, set off by something you couldn’t identify.

“Johnny-”

“No LT. They need to learn their place”

Your hackles rose, you tried to calm the rage, how dare he?

“And whats that MacTavish? You four have been acting like I’ve been a virus since the day I came back! I worked my ass off to help you and this is how you asses repay me? Im not a fucking toddler you can drag around.”

Gaz went to speak but the glare you shoot him is venemous,

“No you don’t get say anything Kyle. You’ll just go running back to Price and prolong this little ‘vacation’ Im sick of being treated like a child.”

“Sergeant”

“Oh rich from you LT” You feel your nerves bristle as Ghost steps forward in challenge. Despite him towering over you, you bite back

“You can take your Sergeant and Stuff it. You have acted like an asshole through these past 4 months and I’m sick of it! You three are grown ass men acting like children. Run back to Price and bully someone else I'm sick of this shit.”

And with that you grabbed your bag and stormed off, disappearing into streets of London the three men stunned at your outburst.

---

You enter the lit area to find a band and civilians listening to, was that the Smith’s? You relax to the familiar music. The main singer is a handsome man, dark eyes raking the crown with a calm smile before you lock eyes and he winks. Unexpecting, you blush and turn into the crowd. He begins to sing with a voice of silver and honey.

Take me out tonight

Where there's music and there's people

And they're young and alive

Driving in your car

I never, never want to go home

Because I haven't got one

Anymore

There is a little irony as you take a seat at the bar. Over the past two years, before your four odd months the taskforce had become home to you. You settled in quite fine, either bickering along side Soap, joining with Ghost or helping Price and Gaz with their reports. Seeing your personal skills Laswell insisted on you staying.

She smiles when you enter in under the arms of Gaz and Soap.

“Hey kid, good to see you.

You nod at here before Price enters, he passes you three a look before ushering the three of you out of the office.

“Come on you two, the parents gotta meet now.”

You giggle as Price rolls his eye as you turn you catch a knowing look from Laswell to Price and as you head out the door, but being dragged to lunch, you miss the fond look he shoots you.

You order a bourbon neat, as you take a sip the chill of the night hits a little deeper and you frown behind your glass watching couples get up to dance. You remember that mission with a fond sigh, the bourbon reminding you of your tall and often mysterious Lieutenant.

Take me out tonight

Because I want to see people

And I want to see life

Driving in your car

Oh, please don't drop me home

Because it's not my home, it's their home

And I'm welcome no more

You tilt your head down, that mission oh. Something in your chest ached.

You entered the room in a shuffle, the trails of your outfit not what you were used to, but a mission like this called for finery. You stumble but pale hand’s catch your arm and tucks it in under his. You turn to the perpetrator but find dark eyes quietly regarding yours and you jump.

“Ghost!”

“Call me Simon at this point Heart”

You manage a quiet yes sir. He watches you with softer eyes before there is laughing down the hallway.

“He’s a lucky bastard is what he is, getting to take Heart all dolled up.”

Johnny’s voice has your eyes rolling. After a few months of your service the Scot had accepted you with open arms, and the flirting, my god the pick up lines. You sigh fondly into your drink.

“I mean you could just ask them-Lt! You’re early.”

Simon doesn’t offer more then a raised brow as he and Soap meet eyes and Soap turns away.

“Kyle please can you help me with this,” You lift the tails of your outfit in a huff.

The man chuckles and nods, it was his idea anyway. His dark eyes meet yours with soft smile that makes you swoon. He offer you a hand and you go to take it but find resistance.

“Simon?”

“Hurry Love. We ship out in 10.” And with that he lets you go. Kyle’s hand is warm and rough and he twirls you to adjust the back of your outfit. Soap turns to Simon,

“The mask?”

And to your surprise, Simon looks to you and nods before slowly removing the balaclava. Soap and Gaz seemed unfazed but you were surprised. A year in you had yet to see more then his lips from a smoke or a drink, but the soft blond hair and scars found you staring at him. He watches you but when you meet his eyes you give him a soft encouraging smile. And his lips quirk up as Soap fusses with his mic and collar. Simon just grumbles at him and you laugh, a chiming sound that has all the men smiling.

You peer back through the crowd, how long had it been since you’d been out? You tip back the the rest of your bourbon and set the glass down feeling the sting. Fuck it. You drop your back and relax into the seat, the singer’s eyes meeting your with a smile as he continues to sing. You sway in your seat to the music.

And if a double-decker bus

Crashes into us

To die by your side

Is such a heavenly way to die

And if a ten ton truck

Kills the both of us

To die by your side

Well, the pleasure, the privilege is mine

You and Soap tumble together, hitting the ground before rolling. The impact steals the breath from your lungs as you grasp at him making sure he was alive.

“Never though i’d get ye like this Heart.”

You sigh, he was fine, despite just saving his ass. He rolls over so his weight isn’t on you more then it needed to be. You are sitting almost on his hips, he grins at you cockily with a raised brow.

“Stuff it Johnny, I just saved your ass.”

“Aye and I gotta thank you for it.”

And in a sudden sweep he pulled himself up and presses a soft kiss to the side of your lips.

“Thank you Love.”

Your face lifts a little at the memory and your heart skips a beat. Your eyes close an you bask in the warmth of the crowd. Following that moment the taskforce changed.

Take me out tonight

Take me anywhere, I don't care

I don't care, I don't care

And in the darkened underpass

I thought, "Oh God, my chance has come at last"

But then a strange fear gripped me

And I just couldn't ask

You hop off the stool and head into the crowd, heart aching for comfort and the hands of others.

First it was soap, falling into your shadow, after the kiss your heightened senses saw his eyes on you everywhere. With other soldiers? One of the members of 141 was there, or he was, hands across his chest, standing guard.

You were training with members of KorTac. The largest fellow, König had taken a keen interest in you due to your language skills and you found a calming friend in the man. Masked like your Simon you felt more comfortable with him. So when he had you pinned you squirmed and broke free.

“Good”

His voice is soft, pale eyes meeting yours as you roll up onto your feet. You run at him before he can get up, but he shoots up and grabs you with a little yelp escaping from your mouth as you are then thrown a few feet onto the soft mat. You roll onto your back, the breath knocked out of you and the ceiling spinning slightly.

“That’s enough!”

Garrick’s sharp voice surprises you as his form appears in your settling vision. He’s quick to kneel down and check you out.

“I’m fine Kyle, just a bit of the rough and tumble.”

His soft lips frown disapprovingly,

“I don’t like you wrestling with him.”

He helps you up and you see König’s form looking out for you. You give him a small wave.

“Sorry Schatz” The nickname pauses you as you stand, Kyle’s arm around you guarding.

You blush a little and smile at the tall man before a gruff ‘Sergeant’ calls from the edge of the room. You find Ghost leaning against the wall, arms crossed, glaring at König before he calls you to him. You nod a little dumbfounded and before you can pull out of Kyle’s grasp the man presses a kiss to the side of your head. Then lets you stumble into the waiting grasp of the Lieutenant.

You shake off the memory and your heart murmurs, but you ignore the hurt. For one night you were free from the confusion and rejection from your team. The crowd, seemingly sensing this welcomed you into their sway. A few single ladies sidled up you with wide smiles and pulled you into their group. You knew how to dance, you learned young, this skill pulled you into some interesting missions. As you sway with the ladies you recollect as the singer watches you.

Take me out tonight

Oh, take me anywhere, I don't care

I don't care, I don't care

Driving in your car

I never, never want to go home

Because I haven't got one, la-di-dum

Oh, I haven't got one

Oh, oh

Simon’s arms were steady around you, Price’s voice in your ear letting you know about the target. You had gone undercover as a couple to infiltrate a drug smugging ring. The leader was hosting a gala at a large mansion in the mountains. And seeing as Kyle and Johnny were on a mission that left you three on your own. You nod silently to Price. Simon pulls you closer and then spins you out on your heels.

“Who knew you could dance?”

You quip up at him, but he only nods, umber eyes taking in your form. You looked breathtaking and it stole the words from his lips.

FIrst Johnny then Kyle. You wondered as you looked up at Simon, handsome as ever in a dark black suit.

“Are you ok Simon?”

He hums, the sound deep in his chest, then in a moment he pulls you flush against him.

“Target on the move lovebirds.”

Price’s voice sound in your ears in a chuckle.

“RIght Captain.”

You sigh but Simon pauses in his movement, and you look up at him in confusion, you call his name but he just stares at you.

“We need to move Lt.”

Nothing, but his hand raising from your side to your face as he leans down and kisses you. After a few seconds he pulls a way and finishes with a

“Affirmative.”

Before leading your frozen self away.

You lose yourself in the music for a moment, rotating partners in innocent sways, just treasuring being lost in the moment, But this song of course must end.

And if a double-decker bus

Crashes into us

To die by your side

Is such a heavenly way to die

And if a ten ton truck

Kills the both of us

To die by your side

Well, the pleasure, the privilege is mine

The voice is much closer and you soon find yourself face to face with the mysterious singer. He smiles as he sings and it reminds you of the final piece of the puzzle.

Price had fallen asleep at his desk, again. You sigh fondly and set a cup of warm lady earl grey aside. You move over to him as he mutters something in his sleep. You felt bad waking him but you knew you needed to before he slumped over.

“Captain”

Nothing, even as you call it 3 times. Finally desperate,

“Johnathan Price!”

He shoots awake, eyes darting around tensely before he finds you and softened immediately.

“You can’t be doing that to a man love.”

“You were falling asleep again, how many times do I need to get on you about that Cap? “

The man regards you and chuckles before he sees the tea. You notice this and turn to grab and hand it to him. When you you turn back around the man is standing regarding you. The moment then feels intimate and you flush a little, stepping back.

“Sorry I’ll just leav-”

“No love it's fine, and please if it's just us call me John.”

He reaches for the tea taking a sip while his ocean eyes watch you. There is something there and you can sense it. After nearly two years of serving under him you grew to know him pretty well, there was fondness in his gaze for all his soldiers. But this was something softer.

“John, I…”

He finishes the cup and sets it down, listening wholly to you and you find the attention has your heart stammering.

“The others have-”

“I know love.”

There it is again and you find yourself pausing as John leans forward, taking your hand in his, rubbing comforting circles into.

“What do I do?”

“Up to you love. I am here for you regardless. You need to get some sleep.”

With this he presses a soft kiss to the palm of your hand and lets you go.

The next day your deployed to the small village and the following four months are hell.

You shake off the feeling. After your injury they treated you like a child, like a burden to be kept locked away. You sigh, pausing, feeling alone in the middle of everybody again.

Oh, there is a light and it never goes out

There is a light and it never goes out

The singer finishes with a frown. The crowd cheers then standard music plays and the moment is broken. The singer passes the mic to his member then turns to your pondering self.

“Are you alright Love?”

His voice is soft and he stands a respectable distance away. One of the members of his band takes the mic and begins with Heaven knows I'm miserable now, continuing the Smiths theme. You almost want to laugh a smile lighting up your face at past (bad very bad) Karaoke attempts with Soap and Gaz.

“There’s a smile.” He smile down at you and offers a hand, you take it introducing yourself. He raises a hand to the crowd and your new girl friends cheer you on as you allow the stranger to pull you into a dance.

The next hour passes with another drink with your new friends and opening up about yourself. Nothing about missions nor sensitive information, but finding yourself in a strange position with the four men of the 141. A little looser you describe them all with a few giggles in response as you recount their crazy tactics. It was nice and you settled into the easy arm of the singer. His arm laid only on the back of your chair but under the watchful eyes of the girl group you got comfortable. At the end of the hour, approaching 3 in the morning the singer was called back on to stage.

A new base line and you swooned as something a bit more American played. The singer nodded his acceptance to the bassist and began to sing.

Sun went down, sun went down over Pompeii

On both sides, the vow was broken

Oh my my, I'm the one, tryin' to hide this damage done

One day, all our secrets will be spoken

He looked at you and gave a wink and the girls cheered as you threw back a beer. Fuck it. You allowed them to pull you into the ever thriving crowd. Your group drew into the heart of the crowd right up in front of the stage.

As we slow danced, I became your statue frozen

Times I wonder, are we just a puff of smoke? Yeah

Underneath this bed of ashes, still withholding everything

Like we were never close

The singer surprised you and under a breath he hopped down from the stage to join the crowd. He approached you with a sway and a open offered hand. You looked into his eyes with a twinkle in yours. The girls cheering you on, you took his hand and swung into the music.

Don't you worry, baby, no sense tryin' to change it

I'ma strike these matches, never had control

I'm ready to let go, no, was I foolin' myself?

I'ma spread these ashes, never had control

I'm ready, I'm ready

I'm ready to let go

Here you were free to experience life, a break from the bullets, free from the heated stares of the 141. Well, at least for a while. You would go back eventually, you bag had enough supplies for a few days. As you spun in the singers free arms flashes of green, blue and brown spun through your vision. You were a little under but still alert, but with the music you let it all go.

Sun went down, sun went down over Pompeii

On holy ground, our vows were broken

We met up, we broke bread, I was blue, your dress was red

Ain't it strange? We both knew this day was comin'

As we slow danced, I became your statue frozen

Times I wonder, are we just a puff of smoke? Yeah

Underneath this bed of ashes, still withholding everything

Like we were never close

He pulled you closer in then, even if for a fleeting moment you felt your heart skip a beat. His eyes were obsidian, reflecting the lights like stars and he sings until he’s breathless. You wondered for a moment what could happen.

Don't you worry, baby, no sense tryin' to change it

I'ma strike these matches, never had control

I'm ready to let go, no, was I foolin' myself?

I'ma spread these ashes, never had control

I'm ready, I'm ready

I'm ready to let go

But as you dance the more of alert of the ladies elbows another, her head tilting subtly towards the entrance of the outdoor bar, where a familiar new set of men appeared. The girl went towards getting you but her friend stopped her as four sets of eyes found you then split up. She sent the girls a look.

Let’s see what happens.

Meanwhile you know the song is finishing and you find yourself taking the hand of the singer and he pulled you into a light embrace and spun you out as he finished breathlessly

Don't you worry, baby, no sense tryin' to change it

I'ma strike these matches, never had control

I'm ready to let go, no, was I foolin' myself?

I'ma spread these ashes, never had control

I'm ready, I'm ready

I'm ready to let go

He stops with a hum as the music continues for a few paces then goes out with the cheering of the crowd. You spin on the pads of your feet with a whooping feeling light in your chest, but you then bump into someone. But before you can apologize you are turned around in their arms and your breath hitches as Simon is staring down at you with dark eyes. It is then you sense another presence behind you and between you and the singer (whose hands are up in surrender) is Johnny.

The sounds of the band drown out with the depths of Simon’s eyes. There is too much there for you to comprehend. His sudden appearance breaks up the alcohol burning in your system and you stand up straighter. Emotions swirl underneath his balaclava, that alone a straight giveaway to his identity. There is anger yes, that much is evident, but you see the stinging presence of worry and something much deeper you dare not name. You turn your head away, the weight of the emotion pulling your heart back from the sky.

The singer shifted looking a little concerned, but Soap was a wide wall of muscle and kept himself close enough to brush your back from within Simon’s arms. The girls however outnumbered the men and give you a knowing look, you nod and they pull the singer away as he nods. You see Soap loosen immediately before turning and forcing your eyes into his.

Stormy blue oceans, the depth of which scare you as he nods to Simon towards the empty bar. You sigh and force yourself to loosen in Simon’s arms. He passes you to Soap and the men pull you gently to the bar where you are especially ashamed to see not only Kyle with your stuff, but a in the corner of the venue, out of noting eyes was John. Gaz with your bag, drew towards you and the four of you reached the awaiting Captain.

Johnny stood at your right, Kyle moving to your left and Simon towering over you like a vengeful wraith, and Johnny still had not let you go. You move to pull your arm from his, but he gives you a stern look, something of a overprotective mastiff.

“MacTavish”

“Captain-”

“Johnny.”

Simon’s deep voice rumbles from behind. Johnny hands trace down yours slowly before he takes your hand with a sigh, the tension finally releasing as his pinky takes yours in a final embrace before he finally lets go of you. He huffs and turns away in a slight pout that warms your heart and you find yourself taking his pinky back with yours. It’s a small show but the way his eyes light up behind the worry makes your heart melt. The other men trace the action, Kyle’s eyes meeting Price’s in silent communication. You all stand for a moment longer, not daring to speak, but when the wind causes you to shiver, alcohol in your system reddening your cheeks, its the weight of Simon against your back that surprises you, his arms, minding Soap’s hand, come under yours and wrap around you, his warmth melting into yours.

“‘Were worried Dove.” He leans down over you until his chin rests in top of your head and you can feel the rumble of his voice in your soul. It’s Kyle that speaks next.

“That was one of the stupidest things you’ve ever done Love.” The man frowns, but his eyes move back to the singer and the group of girls, then he eyes you again sharply.

“What if something had happened?”

Its hard to move with Simon's weight on you but you shot Kyle a withering look.

“Nothing happened, I happened to be having fun.”

“But he had his arms-”

“Kyle”

John’s voice finally speaks up and the man turns away to glower at the crowd, then he reaches a hand for your free one and meets your eyes. There you see a storm of concern, a deep fondness and a bit of protectiveness.

“We need to talk Love, about the past months.” John takes command again, something deep in his soul calm again seeing his team together. But there was time in the morning to talk. He could see the exhaustion of the day creeping into as did the other men.

“In the morning, John” SImon’s voice rumbles feeling your form sway.

“Right Simon” he nods but before turning John steps forward and presses a kiss to your forehead. The action jolting your heart awake and leaving you flushed.

“John?”

“It’s ok sweetheart, sleep, we’ll get you home.”

With that he turns as Kyle and Johnny reluctantly release your hands. This leaves you and Simon as the men wait.

“Si-?” You are suddenly lifted, strong arms finding your back and under your knees to lift you bridal style. You look up at him with wide eyes and he chuckles,

“I think I like the sound of that Love.”

And with a final turn to the crowd you manage a wave to the girls and the singer who shoots you a wink that causes a huff from simon before the man turns to follow the others.

Time to go home and as they walk, joking amongst each other with Simon’s soft voice luring you to sleep, You feel the loving eyes of the four men on you as you fall asleep.

----

End Part One!

Taglist! @ghostlythots

514 notes · View notes

sungbeam · 2 months ago

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BIRDS OF PREY — seven

nonidol!kim hongjoong x f!reader

living in gray areas of your city, out of the way of gangs and mafia territories, could only keep you safe for so long. it was only a matter of time before you began running into problems, or rather, problems began running into you.

▷ genre, warnings. nc-17, strangers 2 lovers, slow burn, mafia au, angst, swearing, mentions of torture/pulling a fingernail, very small appearance of blood, criminal activity, mentions of death, ALSO JUST A LOT OF INFO DUMPING I'M SORRY I DON'T LIKE IT EITHER T_T

▷ word count. 5.5k

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CHAPTER SEVEN: WICKED BLOWS THE WIND

“CAPTAIN ON DECK!” The sound of boots stomping and spines snapping straight echoed up the cavernous rafters of the warehouse. There was home and there was headquarters; this warehouse building was one near their place of living, and was where the majority of soldiers and underlings were summoned when need be.

Tonight, the warehouse was alive. They had a shooter to catch.

If there was one good thing about the Captain's uniform, it was the crow-headed cane that Hongjoong now leaned on to walk faster. It wasn't an obvious crutch to most, though; it was still important that he demonstrated strength in front of his men.

“At ease, at ease,” Hongjoong dismissed, waving a gloved hand and scanning his immediate surroundings. There was another office in this warehouse, perched high up and dubbed the Crow's Nest, but Seonghwa was often the occupant rather than the Captain himself. Hongjoong would steadily make his way up there while collecting updates. “Where's Mingi? Where are we with the bullet casings?”

The tall brunet appeared seemingly out of thin air, standing up to his full height from where he had been crouched beside one of the desks, fixing a broken chair. “Aye, Captain,” he greeted and his mouth formed a grim line. “We've analyzed the bullet casings and… well, I sent them up with Seonghwa hyung for safe keeping, but you should know that it might be worse than we think.”

Hongjoong gestured with his hand for Mingi to walk with him. “Worse?” he parroted.

“Aye.” Mingi's head dipped low toward the Captain's ear as they passed by soldiers at work in order to reach the elevator at the far side of the floor. “It's them alright, but it's so obviously them that it worries me it's a copycat.”

“I see,” Hongjoong hummed lowly. “Did we get the shooters?”

His counterpart nodded and reached for the button to summon the elevator. “Yunho's in there with one of them now.”

“One of them.” It wasn't completely worrying that only one of them was caught, but it did mean one less person to shake information out of.

“We were lucky to even get to the bullet casings,” he quickly defended, stepping into the elevator after Hongjoong. “There was a fucking blue blood patrolling near the college library, and the casings were either collected for their ballistics report or scooped up by the shooter. But Jongho's guy at the precinct was able to retrieve them.”

The elevator rose with even speed, slowing in its ascent as it reached the topmost floor of the warehouse. On this level, it was mostly storage for the most critical evidence of their operations. Though they were all gathered in one place, it would make it easier for them to burn it all should a raid happen without warning.

“We traced the engravings on the shell casings to some guy from Sector 2,” Mingi continued on as the two of them made their way from the elevator to the door of the Crow’s Nest. “He’s saying that someone got in touch with him and gave him the tools to mark his casings with the Strictland seal, and if he killed you, he would get a hefty amount of cash on top of what he was paid upfront.”

Hongjoong pursed his lips at the information. It all seemed to make sense; the only thing that was truly worrying was whether the shooter was a copycat or was telling the truth about being contacted. “Where’s the accomplice?”

Mingi coughed, opening the door to the office for them to step through, “He disappeared. Yeosang’s out with his lookouts now.”

Seonghwa didn’t even look up from what he was hunched over at the desk. The Crow’s Nest office space was a decent size, similar to the captain’s quarters on the Shipwreck, but this one was far more industrial in build and aesthetic. There were touches of Seonghwa and Hongjoong’s personalizations, like a pair of comfortable armchairs in the corner, a small drink cart, and a bookshelf complete with little Lego figurine versions of Hongjoong and his inner circle (courtesy of his second in command). Hongjoong much preferred the Shipwreck office for the sound of the sea right at his ear, but it worked out nicely since this was Seonghwa’s preferred workspace.

The door shut, muffling any outside noise and effectively keeping their own conversation private from anyone outside of these walls.

“Well?” In the privacy of the Crow’s Nest, he could finally lean more weight on his cane, and he slowly made his way over to the desk.

Seonghwa had a crease etched into his brow. “Mingi-ah, get the Captain one of those pain relieving patches, please.”

“Aye-aye, hyung.” The door opened and shut once more, and then there were two.

Hongjoong peered over the desk where Seonghwa scrutinized a brass shell casing. As much as the former wanted to think positively, he didn’t get to where he was today by being optimistic. He plucked up one of the other casings and brought it to his eye, letting the lights hit the grooves embedded into the metal to form a stylized letter Z. To anyone else, it was an unassuming trademark; but to Hongjoong, it stood for everything he worked so hard to bury.

He set the bullet down onto the desk again and made his way over to the window to peer out at the warehouse below. The majority of those present today were here as extra hands on deck regarding the recent imposter cases and attempts on his life. Most of Ateez’s soldiers were out in the field, though, experts at slipping into shadows and opening their ears to any wicked whispers in the wind. Those who were here most of the time were busy with Ateez’s usual business operations: weapons, cromer powder, and accounting. (Accounting was in the sense of keeping track of the tribute and dues people paid to the pirate king—protection money for immunity against petty gangs and fees paid in order to keep the city’s government off a business's back for any certain reason, as long as they played by Ateez’s rules.)

Seonghwa finally voiced into the quiet, “I’m worried.”

Hongjoong rested his cane against the window and placed his hands behind his back. There weren’t many things he could think of at the moment to quell his friend’s concerns, especially if he himself had those same concerns. His fingers twitched behind his back. He could still feel the weight of the pistol in his hand that he used to put a bullet between Lee Yunseok’s eyes.

“I don’t think we’re going to get much out of the kid Yunho’s got in the brig,” Seonghwa added with a sigh. “I have this sinking feeling that his contact was fully anonymous and that this will be a dead end. How did we not destroy all of those engravers?”

The Captain turned around then, grabbing his cane to stand beside his friend at the desk. “Maybe we did, but there are excellent forgers in this city. This doesn’t have to be a dead end. Have we gotten anything on the Mr. Young character that Yn interacted with?”

“I’m still looking into him.” Seonghwa leaned back in his chair, then suddenly straightened and stood up. “You should be sitting.”

“I’m fine.”

“We need you at full health,” he insisted, practically shoving Hongjoong down into the office chair. “I need you at full health. The threat level has just increased, Joong, and they’re not even using their own guys anymore.”

Hongjoong cupped his jawline thoughtfully. “Why would they wait so long to have their revenge?”

Seonghwa shrugged. “They needed to count their numbers,” he suggested. “Recuperate to come back stronger than before. Plots take time; you of all people know that.”

That was the truth. It wasn’t too long ago that Hongjoong spent days and nights cracking out the most foolproof plan to overthrow Strictland that he could muster. Even with the others’ contributions, there were still cracks in it—but it worked. Every plan had their moving parts, chess pieces on a board that were moved to seem like completely different end goals, but were truly the groundwork for something larger.

He knew that the attempts on his life and the imposter sightings were related, but he was certain that whatever remained of Strictland had a plan for you, too. Hongjoong was back to that massive question mark in his head: what was your purpose? What effect were the coincidences intended to produce?

A knock at the office door announced Mingi’s return with a box of pain-relieving patches, as well as Yunho. The latter didn’t seem awfully worn or tired from his interrogation, but he did frown at a speck of blood on his leather jacket that he grumbled about washing out later.

“Here you are, Cap'n.” Mingi tossed the box across the office for Hongjoong to catch.

Yunho nudged the door shut with his foot. “Kid’s a dead end,” he said what Seonghwa had predicted. “I figured as much in the beginning, but I pulled a fingernail just in case. Shouldn’t have done it though, because I got his fucking blood on me.” He paired his complaint with a sigh and a shake of his head.

“Did you learn anything in particular though?” Hongjoong queried. “How was the information and tools passed along to him?”

“Snail mail,” Yunho said, collapsing into one of the armchairs in the corner of the room. “He found a package at his door and then he got a call from an unknown number with instructions. Fifteen thousand dollars were wired into his bank account upfront; it was forty-five thousand more for carrying out the scheme, and a hundred thousand if he killed you.”

Hongjoong's brows shot up. So that was what his head was worth, a hundred thousand. Huh. Not as much as he was hoping for really, but they were probably running on a budget. That provided another question then: who was funding them? It had to be one of the other families in the city, just as he suspected before. “We'll go from here. Have Wooyoung go through the kid's phone and scrape for that unknown number. It's probably a burner, but he might be able to trace it to a cell tower.”

“Speaking of,” Seonghwa piped up, “where is Wooyoung?”

Mingi had settled into the other armchair next to Yunho. “With San, probably.”

“He's driving Yn home,” Hongjoong said through half a sigh, carding a hand through his hair. He just remembered he asked Wooyoung to. There was simply a strange feeling in his chest that told him he shouldn't allow you to make the journey home alone anymore. It would be alright for you to come here on your own because it was in daylight amongst other people, but after last night…

A target on his back was one thing, but you wouldn't know what to do if Strictland showed up on your doorstep.

The thought alone made a lump form in his throat and he coughed to clear it away. He cared about you in the way he cared about any liability, of course. At least, that was what the Captain would think. Hongjoong, on the other hand—well, it didn't matter now. You took the vow of silence and you knew who he was. He wasn't just Hongjoong to you anymore.

For some reason, that felt like a loss.

Seonghwa released a sound of interest from his throat, walking away from where he stood beside his leader and toward the liquor cart. “How'd she take the offer?”

“What'd you offer her?” Mingi asked, eyes brightening at the new information. He had only just found out you took the vow of silence several hours ago.

“In exchange for her last life debt, I would siphon her away to someplace no one knew her, with a new identity,” Hongjoong explained. He began idly turning himself back and forth in the office chair. “She wanted to think about it. I imagine she has ties to this city, as most people do.”

“It's as you predicted,” his second said, gesturing with his glass before taking a generous sip of the whiskey. Seonghwa barely grimaced as the liquid burned its way down his throat. “You know, she could be useful.”

“I don't think she wants to be entangled in this anymore than she already is.”

Every man in that room knew that if Hongjoong wanted something, he wouldn't stop until he owned it. So if he was so dismissive about your further use to them, then they would drop the subject. You were a gray area resident through and through; he wasn't about to yank someone aboard a ship they didn't want to board.

For a beat, there was silence as they all mulled over the naive little sheep who unwittingly tied herself to a wolf. Yunho snorted suddenly, smiling to himself. “She's kind of funny,” he said.

“Don't tell me you're getting attached now,” Seonghwa quipped, lifting a single brow.

“I just think she's a good person.” Mingi's expression was sheepish as he shrugged, cupping the back of his neck. “For some reason, hyung, she can't stop saving your ass.”

Hongjoong's lip curled upward into the smallest of smiles that he hid behind his hand, pressing his knuckles to that corner of his mouth. “Maybe she has an instinct,” he threw out airily. He picked up one of the bullet casings again and held it up in the light as red flashed before his eyes and old blood splattered in the projector of his mind. “They say storm birds are heralds of destruction. When you see them perched nearby, you should run and take cover.”

You woke up to the news.

The sound of a news anchor's voice rang out loud and clear from beneath your bedroom door, streaming in from the living room TV. You glanced over at your phone with bleary eyes and a headache drilling into your skull—8:34AM. It was too early for you to be sentient. Five hours was not nearly enough sleep when it was your day off.

You yanked the cover over your head, content and determined to drift back to dreamland. It wasn't completely out of the ordinary to hear the TV on outside; you understood that Ryujin got antsy most mornings and needed to keep up with the latest in the city.

You, however, couldn't care less—

“—footage from an anonymous source. Hala Town's notorious Ateez mafia seems at it again, stepping out of their territory. This time, Ateez's leader, the Captain, has been seen breaking and entering into a Sector 3 business. Take a look—”

Alright. Maybe you did care a little.

The living room was cold when you opened the door, your hands and face hidden in the shadows of your hoodie. Ryujin started as she turned around from where she stood in the middle of the living room, hands on her hips.

But you didn't hear what she was saying. Your eyes were glued to the TV screen, watching a man with a black, wide-brimmed hat and coat, cane and mask, waltz into the Kidult Company building. The picture quality was grainy and had much room for improvement, but the uniform made it clear who it was on screen. If the goal was to make it look like Kim Hongjoong, the real Captain, was the perpetrator, then they succeeded.

(No normal person would care that this cane was not crow-headed, nor that his walk was off—there was no stiffness to his movements, not that the general populace knew Hongjoong had been shot.)

There was a person accompanying this Captain though, one who clearly turned his face toward the camera. In fact, he located the lens and peered directly into it. The newscaster zoomed in on this accomplice's face, describing what best he could see on screen.

Your blood ran cold. Surely that wasn't…

That face was difficult to scrub out of your memory. His voice spoke to you in thinly veiled threats from the back of your mind. To you, there was no doubt that the person with the fake Captain was Mr. Young.

“We have yet to identify this accomplice, but he is surely someone in league with the Captain and the Ateez mafia,” said the newsman. He nudged his glasses up and gestured toward you, the viewer. “We implore you to call the tip line on-screen if you have any information regarding this matter. This has been Lee Seokmin with Teleparty News; we'll be back after these messages.”

As the screen flickered to an advertisement for the newest revolutionary vacuum cleaner on the market, you stood stock-still in the doorway of your bedroom. Your hands had gone frigid. Mr. Young was associated with the imposter Captain that Hongjoong had mentioned two nights ago.

This changed… This changed a lot. It meant that Mr. Young was in league with this imposter, likely trying to smear Hongjoong's name. But why?

What was the motivation behind this?

And the night of the fire—that paper claiming the murder and arson was a tribute to him. It was sarcastic. It was a taunt. This was a game and Hongjoong was being toyed with.

To what end though? To what end would this continue and would it go even with the entire city caught in the crossfire? Or what about innocent civilians living in Hala Town and Ateez territory? The answer was that it wouldn't end until one side demolished the other.

“Yn… hey, Yn—”

You blinked rapidly as Ryujin frantically waved her hand in front of your face. Concern contorted her facial expression, and her hands found her hips again. “Are you okay? You look like you've seen a ghost.”

“Uh yeah,” you stammered, “I mean yeah, I'm fine.” You pressed a sweater paw up against your forehead as the decision came to you. “I just remembered I have to go to work—I mean! I have an errand to run.”

You swiftly turned back into your room, leaving Ryujin dumbfounded in the living room.

It was strange how fear and adrenaline worked in tandem with each other in moments like these. You swiftly got dressed, and five hours was suddenly enough sleep to go climb a mountain.

Or, make stupid decisions. The first time you steeled yourself to head into Ateez territory, it was to do what was necessary. There wasn't much difference this time.

Three years ago, there was a major shift in power. The city only knew about it until the dust settled, bodies were counted, and a new ruling family rose out of the ashes with blood on their hands. It was an event where you could only truly know what happened if you were a part of the coup itself. Anyone outside of Hala Town, or even civilians who resided there, would have no idea as to the true machinations of Kim Hongjoong's plans, why he decided to take over Strictland's reign, and what exactly he had in store for the territory.

It was no secret, however, that Lee Yunseok—former mafia head of Strictland—ruled Hala Town with an iron hand. It was no different from the cutthroat ecosystem of most concrete jungles, wherein the rich became richer and the poor ate shit. But it was, in general, unruly and a far more dangerous place to live because of his policies. From the testimonials in chatrooms and blog posts you found online, there were plenty of people who could certify that living in Hala Town had been like constantly waiting for something bad to happen. In the day, one kept their head down in hopes of avoiding trouble; in the night… Well, one of the users said to never go out at night.

Obviously, you couldn't trust just anything that someone said online, but the stories you furiously consumed on the subway ride to Hala Town corroborated each other's testimonies.

So where did Mr. Young and this imposter Captain fall into play here?

After the fall of Strictland, it seemed most of their members either scattered like shadows in the day, died during the fight, or turned Ateez. Either the latter people simply sided with the new group in power or had already been recruited to Ateez sometime during the coup.

Your eyes glanced up at the nearest screen that displayed the next stop. Through your wired earbuds, you could hear the robotic voice in the speakers announce the station you were approaching. Swiftly, you returned to what you were reading on your phone.

There was no information about Kim Hongjoong or the rest of his commanders. You once looked up his civilian name and the only establishment he was tied to was the Shipwreck. Had he assumed the title or nickname of Captain while as a member of Strictland's group?

It was not an unpopular rumor that, regarding the coup, the call had to have come from inside the house.

He might have turned on them and had their leader killed, chasing Strictland out of their former territory with their tails between their legs. Was this all an attempt to seek revenge?

Three years to come up with a convoluted and thorough run at revenge, as well as to gather resources and manpower—it made sense. They were ready. Why would they kill Ms. Iwazaki though? Were they afraid her loyalty to the Captain would cost them more than risking her loyalty to greed?

You swam with the current on your way out of the subway car at the only stop for Hala Town.

It was fast approaching 9:30AM as you ascended to ground level. Because it was a Sunday, there weren't as many commuters bustling to and fro, but plenty of people were on their way toward the wharf for the morning farmer's market. It was something Wooyoung mentioned to you offhandedly the past week.

There wasn't exactly a way you could look up the Ateez warehouse on a maps app, so you had to rack your brain to remember what the path Yunho drove looked like. It was definitely close to the—

A shoulder crashed against yours. “Hey!” you hollered after the offending party, ripping the earbuds out from your ears.

It was two men whose faces were close to one another, and one of them lifted his hand in apology. “Sorry!”

“Way to keep a low profile,” hissed his friend before tugging him along.

A low profile? You stepped out of the way of people walking past and slowly wandered after those two men, trailing behind by one or two people.

“—calling us all in though? It has to do with the news of the Captain this morning. Do you think they're going to accept Strictland's offer?”

“Don't say that name out loud around here! Don't you know anything?”

Your spine prickled with a feeling of dread. You were right that they were suspicious. There were plenty of suspicious things happening in this city, but it couldn't just be a coincidence that they needed a low profile after this morning's news and recent events.

Your determination kicked up a notch as you weaved your way through other pedestrians, your gaze locked onto your targets. Was it a stupid idea to follow them? You'd had worse ideas before.

They made a sharp turn to cross the street and headed directly for an alleyway.

“The boss is probably getting anxious to get a foothold in the port. Did you hear who’s moving in soon?”

You pressed your body against the brick wall of the alley, allowing them to get some distance first. It was lucky that you could pick up what they were saying from the acoustics in this corridor.

“The GV? What could he possibly gain by doing them a favor?” the man's voice was incredulous as he said this. “Whatever. I guess we should brace ourselves for new marching orders soon.”

They turned out of the alleyway soon after.

You scurried after them and stopped short at the very mouth. Just beyond this exit point laid a wide intersection filled with foot and vehicle traffic. It was decently busy, but the small shopping malls on different sides of the street certainly contributed to the hustle and bustle. You could spot the two men crossing the street and rounding the corner, but you remained in the shadows to contemplate your next move.

“We're really doing this, huh?” you muttered to yourself and turned to your phone. There was one new number you had saved in your contacts, and it just so happened to be the Ateez commander who was chronically online.

He didn't disappoint.

Within one and a half rings, he was in your ear. “Uhh, gonna be honest. Not a great time if you wanted to get brunch.”

“Why would I want brunch with you?” you asked, adjusting your earbud wires as the buds were plugged back in your ear. You peered out into the intersection one more time, then leaned back against the wall with an exhale.

“Wow, rude. I thought we were friends.” His words were accompanied by voices and sounds of movement. “And we mentioned brunch last night. Why else would you call? —Oy! Careful with her; she's my favorite scope!”

Your brows furrowed at all the excitement happening on the other end. “What's going on over there?”

There was a huff of indignation from Wooyoung, and you assumed (hoped) that it was directed toward the person handling his beloved scope and not you. “I will assume you've seen the news. We're preparing for retaliation and Joong hyung is preparing to meet the head of the Diamond District.”

“Retaliation?” you repeated, eyes going wide. Mentally, you performed cartwheels to remember where you'd heard Diamond District before. That was the nickname for the old Sector 17 gang, wasn't it? Now, they were known as the Diamond District Chois, a family reigned by blood, which was the more conventional relationship one saw within the mafia families.

“It's the natural response when your territory has been directly threatened by another—imposter figure or not.”

“Why would the Diamond District retaliate against us—I mean—you?”

A pause. “The Kidult Company is a shell corporation. Take a wild guess who owns it.”

Your brain filled in the gaps and you placed a hand over your mouth. “Yikes…”

“Mhm,” came Wooyoung's grim reply.

“I always thought it was some kind of institutionalized daycare,” you muttered with ill-concealed disappointment. It made a lot more sense why Non-Captain and Mr. Young chose to break into that building specifically. Was he trying to start a war?... Oh. Was that the end game?

“Would've been much better than this!” he said with a hysterical laugh. He sighed, and you could imagine him dragging a hand down his face in anxiety. “So I suggest you stay away from Hala Town, but it is your day off. By the way, why did you call again?”

“Oh, I'm in Hala Town.”

Another pause. Then you heard a smack. “Of course, you are. Murphy's Law.”

You crossed your arms over your chest, scrunching up your face. “Now that is rude. I came because I saw the news this morning and I wanna help.” Before Wooyoung could say anything in response to that, you rambled on, “Look, I—I don't know. I saw the news this morning, and the fallout of this revenge scheme could hurt a lot of people. I like this city, Wooyoung. I like living here, as much as it is counterintuitive, but now this matter's crossed into the gray areas.”

The background noise gradually decreased on his end, like he was walking away from the action. “I get that, I really do. And the fact that you're still here says a lot,” he told you. “But you should know that you're only getting yourself more involved.”

“I know,” you said, pursing your lips. “Maybe I'm stupid for following my gut instead of common sense by coming here… it's just that I came because I wanted to tell you guys that the man on the leaked security tape with the fake Captain is Mr. Young—the guy who was the last to see Iwazaki Rina.”

Wooyoung exhaled. “That… makes a lot of sense, and helps me a shit ton.” You could hear the click-clack of his fingers on a mechanical keyboard and you wondered how fast he had the security tape analyzed. “I'm gonna run this through facial rec. Thanks Yn, seriously. It's strange though that he chooses now to show his face. Any other footage has him strategically dodging cameras or blocking his features.”

You hummed under your breath, debating between snaking your way back to the station through the alleyway or remaining here for the duration of your call. You scanned your immediate surroundings just in case. “He's playing with you,” you offered. “At least, that's what I've come up with. He must be associated with Stri—”

“Ah,” he cut you off. “You're in public, Yn.”

“Okay, whatever. You know who I mean.” You poked your head out of the alleyway again to survey the nearby establishments. Those two men were off to attend a meeting of some kind. Was there somewhere nearby that they could gather? You pulled up the GPS app on your phone. “If he's associated with who we think he is, then it has to mean something that he had a hand in Ms. Iwazaki's death and the fire,” you continued. “Also, I'm on Paradigm Avenue. What's around here?”

“Why the fuck are you on Paradigm? That's almost the complete opposite direction of the pier. I didn't think your sense of direction was that bad.”

You rolled your eyes. “I was following two suspicious guys who were talking about you, you-know-who, and the GV mafia. Something about being called in and accepting a deal.”

He loosened a low whistle from his mouth. “Look at you! You're learning all our dirty secrets on your way to work today.”

“Oh, good. So it's important and I should follow them.” You didn't particularly care about what they were going to do with the GV mafia—actually, maybe you did care. The mafia family that ruled the Gold Village, a nearby section of the city, wasn't your favorite kind of people. You'd heard through the grapevine that they were into more unsavory businesses, and if those businesses were about to be funneled through Ateez's ports…

You had to stop yourself. You couldn't just sit down and have a conversation with Hongjoong about why they shouldn't go through with whatever deal they struck with the GV. This was just business. Their business.

“You didn't hear this from me, but I would follow them,” admitted Wooyoung. “Though, you should know that the way you're going is heading toward the east corner.”

Your foot stopped mid step as it crossed out of the alleyway and out onto the street. “What's in the east corner?” you asked, recovering your stride and heading for the crosswalk. There were a few restaurants and bars nearby that you could check. The Laundromat also looked somewhat suspicious to you with the happy-go-lucky laundry machine with googly eyes in the front window.

“We've been keeping an eye out over there lately. That's where the whispers of Strictland's reappearance first cropped up,” he explained. “Just err on the side of caution.”

Sure, you could do that.

“Oh, one last thing” —you stopped yourself from ending the call— “remember when I told you that you had major street cred around here?”

“Yeah,” you said. The first time you met Wooyoung a little over a week ago, it was the first time you ever stepped foot into Ateez territory. He mentioned to you at that first meeting that you had 'street cred’ around these parts and you still hadn't a clue what he meant.

“I wasn't kidding, y'know. Our soldiers and those who know them know your name and that you've saved the Captain. If you find the right person and tell them who you are, they could help get you out of trouble.”

The information came as a welcomed surprise to you. Perhaps saving a man you didn't know did have its perks, besides the originally unwanted IOUs he offered. Figuring out how to find the right people at the right time was a bridge you'd build when you got there though. “Wait, but if I told the wrong person who I am?”

“Well, that's just the thing,” he let out a sheepish chuckle. “There are probably a handful of people who'd want to hurt you for helping the Captain. Your name can either save you or kill you.”

Great.

As you crossed the street and ventured further away from the streets that you knew, you were armed with only a name—one that could be the breath of air you needed or the hand that snuffed the life out of you.

With the bodies on the chess board beginning to move with vigor and strategy, it was high time you moved your own chess piece.

a/n: pls remember to reblog if you enjoyed!

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sokoviansimp · 1 year ago

Text

Control

✒ Pairings: dom!wanda x subAgent!femreader

✒ Summary: Tension builds when Wanda and Y/N, who hate each other, are sent on a mission with Y/N's best friend, Natasha, and her wife Maria. The mission doesn't exactly go to plan.

✒ Tags and Warnings: 18+! Mature themes, kidnapping, chemicals, hospital, bickering, enemies to lovers, slow burn

✒ Author's Note: not proofread, because I'm really high rn and want to get this out because it's been in my drafts for like a month but I've been so busy with moving, and working 2 jobs, and just life changes.

✒ Word Count: 9523

✒ Read Time: 24 minutes

Masterlist : Socials : Series Masterlist

The dimly lit, high-tech briefing room at the SHIELD headquarters buzzed with anticipation. Agents of all kinds filled the seats, their eyes trained on the enormous screen at the front. Natasha Romanoff, the Black Widow herself, stood at the head of the room, her signature poise and confidence emanating from her.

You sat nearby, attention locked onto the screen. You had earned your place among the elite Shield agents through sheer skill and determination, graduating early from the academy. Your sharp mind and lightning-quick reflexes made you one of the best in the business.

Natasha, after glancing over to her wife, Maria, began the mission briefing. "Our intel suggests that a rogue group of Hydra operatives has obtained a dangerous chemical compound. We need to secure it before they can use it for any nefarious purposes. We’ll be sending a small team in to infiltrate, if all goes to plan we should be in and out within 2 days. Y/N, you’ll partner with Wanda, and Maria will come with me,” Wanda couldn’t help but roll her eyes and let out a small huff at being paired with you, “The tac team will meet us on day 2 by the south entrance to secure the base. Everyone clear?” Nat finished as she looked around the room to see a bunch of heads bobbing in confirmation.

Once everyone had filed out, you and Wanda hung back to discuss infiltration plans with Maria and Natasha. Nat explained that the trek to get to the area undetected would take a day, you would sleep at a small cabin safe house on the outskirts of the forest, and then the next day you would stealthily breach the border to the Hydra base and seize control of the chemical before letting the tac team in to finish up.

“Sounds like a plan, but why do y/n and I have to be partners on this?” Wanda added trying everything she could to get out of being stuck with you by her side.

“Now, I know you two love to bicker, but we’re all adults here. I’m sure you two can push your differences aside for 2 days.” Natasha explained as she shot Wanda a pointed look. She knew the brunette had her grievances about you and, as much as Nat loved you, she also knew how annoying you could be on the surface, but you two were also the ones Nat trusted most, aside from her wife, to have her six.

“I don’t see that being a problem, do you Wanda?” you confirmed with a smug smirk on your face, knowing you would have ample time to get under Wanda’s skin. Bickering with the brunette was something you would never admit you actually enjoyed, but you did. You loved getting her going and sometimes you could even imagine the smoke blowing out of her ears from how much you drove her crazy. You found herself drawn to Wanda's reactions, the way her cheeks would flush with annoyance, or her lips would curl into a sly smile when she caught on to your teasing. You unknowingly reveled in the attention it garnered from Wanda.

Wanda’s gaze shifted back to the screen as her brows knit tightly together forming a slight furrow in the middle of her forehead, “Guess not, when do we leave” she asked tightly pressing her lips together.

“Wheels up in 30” Nat informed as everyone filed out to pack.

You leaned against a nearby table, eyeing Wanda as she adjusted her gear. "Wanda, are you sure you're ready for this mission? I mean, it's not as easy as manipulating some red energy."

Wanda shot you a withering look, her scarlet eyes flashing. "Not everything can be solved by punching first and asking questions later, Sprints. Some of us have to use our brains."

Wanda had given you the nickname, Sprints, one day when you were training in the compound with Nat. Shield agents don't typically train at the compound, but your close friendship with Natasha made you an exception. This day, you had been bragging about setting a new in-house record for the 100-meter dash.

You chuckled, unfazed. "Brains, huh? Well, I'm glad one of us has 'em."

Wanda smirked, her accent lacing her words with a hint of sarcasm. "And I'm glad one of us doesn't rely solely on brute force."

You couldn't resist a playful jab. "True, but at least when I hit something, it stays down. Can't say the same for your mind tricks."

Wanda's lips curled into a wry smile. "Wanna test that theory?" she said pointedly as she raised her hand and her magic swirled around in her fingertips.

Just then, Nat entered breaking up the standoff between you and Wanda, “Knock it off you two, the jet is taking off in 5, get loaded up,” Nat instructed as she watched Wanda walk by you and slightly nudge your shoulder as you innocently raised your hands toward Natasha, “Now.” she said firmly causing you to scurry off with your bag in Wanda’s trail.

As the quin-jet roared to life, and with Nat and Maria both in the cockpit, you couldn't resist the urge to tease Wanda. You knew how to push the right buttons, and her playful, sometimes very real, annoyance was on full display.

You leaned across the narrow aisle, grinning mischievously at Wanda, who was quietly reading a book on her tablet. "Hey, Wanda," you began, your tone a touch too cheerful, "since we're going up against Hydra today, maybe you can use your mind tricks to make them forget they ever messed with us."

Wanda glanced at her with a bemused expression, clearly unimpressed. "Y/N, my powers don't work that way, and you know it."

Y/N pretended to ponder this for a moment, tapping her chin with a playful smirk. "Hmm, shame. It would've made our job so much easier. But hey, don't worry. I'm sure you'll find some other way to be useful."

Wanda sighed, shaking her head as she shifted her focus back to her book. She was clearly unamused by your antics.

As the quin-jet touched down in a remote area, nearly 10 miles from their target location, the four of you gathered your gear and prepared to embark on your covert trek. The evening was closing in quickly and with the loss of the sun, it would start getting cold soon.

Natasha, the team leader, huddled the group together for a final briefing. "Remember, we need to reach the cabin undetected. This is a highly secured area, and any alert could jeopardize the mission. Y/N and Wanda, I need you two to put your differences aside and work together. Our success depends on it."

Y/N exchanged a begrudging glance with Wanda but nodded in agreement. "Got it, Nat. I'll try not to annoy Wanda too much."

Wanda rolled her eyes but remained silent, her focus on the task at hand.

The team set out on their trek, moving silently through the dense forest, their footsteps muffled by the fallen leaves and underbrush. Y/N and Wanda found themselves side by side, each step of the way requiring them to cooperate and coordinate their movements to avoid detection.

Every now and then, an armored personnel carrier would drive by causing the team to utilize nearby ravines, trenches, and coves to avoid detection. At one point, they hid out in a culvert for a few minutes waiting for the oncoming trail of vehicles to pass. A crinkling sound eventually made its way to Wanda’s ears and her head snapped to you as you tore open a granola bar, “Really, is now the best time for that?” Wanda whispered, trying to keep quiet as she scolded you, “Oh yes, you do not want to see me when I’m hangry,” you quietly responded as Natasha hushed you both to keep quiet.

Despite your earlier banter and rivalry, you and Wanda fell into a rhythm as you navigated the challenging terrain. You took point, your sharp instincts and knowledge of the wilderness guiding the path. Wanda, with her enhanced senses, scanned for any signs of danger or hidden threats.

As you moved deeper into the night, the initial tension between the two of you began to dissipate. You began communicating with subtle gestures and exchanged information about the terrain and possible obstacles. Gradually, a sense of unity began to form between you two, as you realized that your success truly depended on your ability to work together.

Hours passed, and the mission team finally arrived at the remote cabin where they would be staying for the night. Nat and Maria thoroughly cleared it to make sure there were no unexpected guests. Once it was clear, you and Wanda made your way in. The cabin was rustic, with only two bedrooms, and it quickly became apparent that accommodations would be tight.

Natasha and Maria, who were married, naturally gravitated toward one of the bedrooms and claimed it as their own. They exchanged a knowing look, then turned to the rest of the team.

Wanda, ever the enigmatic one, made her preferences clear with a cool, unwavering stare. "I'm not sharing a room with Y/N," she stated firmly.

Realizing the implications, you tried to defuse the situation. "No problem, Wanda. I can sleep on the couch or even on the floor. It's not a big deal."

But Natasha, always the pragmatic leader, stepped in. "Actually, it is a big deal. We need both of you at your best tomorrow. We can't afford any tension or lack of rest. You two are sharing the other bed, there’s plenty of room."

Wanda's lips formed a thin line of irritation, but Natasha's word was final. She begrudgingly agreed, her tone laced with annoyance. "Fine, but I'm taking the left side of the bed."

You nodded following Wanda to the other room, a hint of a smirk playing on her lips. "Works for me, Wanda. I promise not to steal the covers."

With the sleeping arrangements decided, the team settled into their respective rooms, though the atmosphere in the second bedroom was palpably tense. You and Wanda each occupying your respective sides with a noticeable gap between. Tension hung in the air, and you both lay stiffly under the covers, each determined not to give an inch.

The initial discomfort led to a silent battle for the covers. Your fingers twitched slightly as you subtly attempted to pull the blanket your way. Wanda, sensing the movement, tightened her grip on the fabric. This quiet tug-of-war continued for a while, neither of you willing to relinquish control.

But as time passed, exhaustion began to take its toll. The temperature in the room dropped, and the comfort of the covers became increasingly irresistible. Unbeknownst to either of you, both of you gradually drifted into a fitful slumber, with both your subconscious minds seeking warmth and comfort.

In the dead of night, your bodies shifted ever so slightly. In your sleep, you unconsciously turned toward Wanda, your back now touching Wanda's side. Wanda, still asleep, feeling the unexpected contact, hesitated for a moment but soon found herself subconsciously gravitating closer to your warmth.

Your movements continued to synchronize in the depths of sleep. Slowly but surely, the gap between you vanished as you instinctively nestled into each other. Your arm draped over Wanda's waist, and Wanda's head nestled into the crook of your neck. The covers you had fought over earlier now cocooning you both, providing warmth and security.

Though you had started the night as adversaries, the quiet intimacy of your subconscious movements told a different story. In the stillness of the cabin, with the moonlight filtering through the curtains, you and Wanda had found an unexpected source of comfort in each other's presence. It was as if you two were pieces in a puzzle that fit perfectly with one another as your exhaustion-riddled bodies melded together after a long day.

The morning sun filtered through the cabin's curtains, casting a warm and gentle glow across the room. As you and Wanda began to stir, you each gradually became aware of your compromising position. Your bodies were entangled, limbs intertwined, and faces mere inches apart.

For a brief moment, your eyes fluttered open and met Wanda’s gaze, your heartbeat picked up nearly drowning out any source of sound for you as your cheeks reddened, you knew you should want to move, should be upset, but you froze like a deer in headlights, like if you stayed still then she wouldn’t notice and would stay as well. For a moment, you enjoyed the comfort of the witch’s grasp. That was quickly replaced by your mutual disdain from the previous night as the tension resurfaced with the disgusted look Wanda shot over to you. You locked eyes, both startled by the proximity and the realization of how closely you had been clinging to each other in your sleep.

Wanda quickly pulled away, her cheeks coloring slightly with a mix of embarrassment and irritation. She shifted to her side of the bed and cleared her throat, avoiding your gaze. "This is... not how I expected to wake up."

Equally flustered, you hastily withdrew your arm and adjusted your position to sit on the edge of the bed, cheeks tinged with a faint blush. "Yeah, well, it's not exactly my ideal morning either."

The tension that had momentarily dissipated during the night returned in full force. Both of you were acutely aware of the compromising position you had awoken in, and it only served to highlight your ongoing rivalry and mutual discomfort.

As you both jumped to get out of bed and prepared for the day ahead, your distaste for each other remained palpable. The events of the night had not erased your differences or any of the underlying tension, and you were both eager to put some distance between each other and the uncomfortable intimacy you had experienced in your sleep. Was it really uncomfortable though? You couldn’t deny, it was the best you had slept in weeks. No, it was. Just remembering the look of pure disgust on Wanda’s face puts the bad taste right back in your mouth.

“You two are up early, figured I’d have to come in clanging some pans the way you two like to sleep in.” Nat teased as you and Wanda entered the kitchen, “How’d you sleep?”

“Goo-” you began but were cut off but the louder brunette beside you, “TERRIBLE” she groaned in response, not wanting to re-live what she woke up to.

Nat glanced at Y/N knowingly, “What was that, Y/N?” she continued to tease as she poured the coffee that she had just made into 2 mugs in front of her for each of you.

“Yea, grossly bad. Just- what she said” you stammered to get out, trying to remember what exactly was so bad about it. Then you remembered the look on Wanda’s face full of disgust again, and you couldn’t help but feel slightly guilty that she felt that way toward you.

Once you were all geared up and ready to leave the cabin, Natasha went over the plan one more time before you all stealthily headed back out into the forest. The weak spot that you were looking to infiltrate was about 5 miles from the cabin and you thanked whatever gods may exist that it wasn't winter yet. The air was cold against your cheeks, enough to tinge them a slight red from the wind burn, but not so frigid that you were shivering or unable to focus.

Wanda, on the other hand, curled in on herself any chance she could in order to keep warm and ward off the shivers that threatened to take over her body. As you were waiting in another culvert for a line of trucks to pass by, you noticed from the way Wanda was curled up that she was struggling. Knowing you could survive without the jacket you were wearing, you went to offer it to the witch, “Cold?” you whispered softly and placed your hand on her shoulder to get her attention from behind.

Her eyes snapped over to meet your gaze and she pulled her arm away from your touch like you were a deadly disease, “I’m fine,” she whispered back icy and dismissive, making a mental note to hide her discomfort better. Her disgust for you was clear, little did she know, you were only trying to help.

Taken aback by her response, your initial concern became clouded with frustration. All you wanted to do was see her light up in your direction and yet everything you did caused her to hate you more. If she’s going to act this way, may as well give her a reason. Two can play this game, “Oh right, I forgot you’re made of tougher skin than the rest of us peasants,” you mocked, keeping your tone low so as to not give up your position.

The look that Wanda shot back your way sent shivers down your spine, “Should’ve come more prepared, like me,” you say flaunting your jacket and digging the metaphorical knife deeper as Nat waved an ‘all clear’ signal.

“There it is,” Wanda snapped back at you, “every chance you get to be a coc-“ Natasha cut Wanda off, silencing her, before she could finish her point.

You caught Wanda’s gaze as it happened and pointed at your ears tauntingly. Her jaw tightened and her anger brewed as she continued to move through the culvert, following Nat and Maria’s lead.

As the team made its way out of the culvert and trekked along the route, you noticed Wanda was no longer shivering, all the pent-up anger toward you providing her warmth that would last at least a couple of minutes as you smirked to yourself.

Once inside, Natasha and Maria took point in clearing a path and disabling guards with precision and stealth. You and Wanda had been tasked with obtaining the chemical agent that had been noted on the radar. The crucial task brought you both further into the facility, and as much as you each had trouble being in one another’s presence, you put your differences aside to work well as a team.

As you moved deeper into enemy territory, you settled back into the unspoken language of signals you had used the previous day together. Wanda was easily able to disable the camera feeds with her telekinesis while you took out any remaining guards and covered your tracks.

Soon enough, you both came to a secure-looking door, its lock was intricate and seemed heavily fortified with barometric readings and sensors. Without hesitation, Wanda focused her energy on the lock’s mechanism, using her powers to manipulate the gears and pins. You had her back, keeping watch on the corrodor, as she fell vulnerable to an attack from behind with her mind focused elsewhere.

A stray guard came out of a room down the hall making his way in your direction as he began to yell and pull out his gun, “Don’t lose focus Wanda, I got your back,” you assured her as you swiftly disabled the guard. As much as Wanda may hate you, she knew deep down that she could trust you and kept her focus on the door.

Once you settled back beside Wanda, you couldn’t help but let out a snarky comment as she was otherwise engaged with her powers, “You know, Wanda, it’s almost like having magic hands comes in handy on a mission like this,”

Wanda shot you a side-eye glance with just a hint of a smirk on her lips, “Oh, so now you like my powers, huh?”

Grinning, you responded, “Let’s just say, I’m starting to see the perks.”

With that, Wanda was finally able to get the door lock to yield to her magic and open up. With the granted entry, you both slipped into the room beyond, only to be met with dozens of eyes from scientists working in the lab you just entered, “What’s up fellas, I heard you’ve been playing with a new toy,”

The scientists, startled by the sudden intrusion, immediately recognized the threat and reacted swiftly. They shouted in alarm as you charged at them causing one of them to activate a security alarm, triggering a set of reinforced doors to slam shut, attempting to neutralize the largest threat they saw, Wanda.

Before she could react, you pushed her out of the way, finding yourself locked inside a sealed chamber, cut off from Wanda and the rest of the room. Panic coursed through your veins as you realized the predicament. Seeing that you’re in no position to look out for Wanda any longer, you began pounding on the glass door, shouting for her to get out, but the scientists weren’t done quite yet.

In a desperate bid to incapacitate you, originally Wanda, and prevent any further interference, one of the scientists had activated an aerosol dispenser in the sealed chamber. A fine mist of the chemical agent you had been tasked with retrieving filled the air around you. All you could do was gasp as the toxic substance began to take effect. Desperately trying to hold your breath and shield yourself from exposure, your focus shifted from escape to self-preservation. Your skin became overrun with a dark crystalized rash, similar to obsidian growing like a vine on the side of an unkept building, scaling up and down your arms as it spread out.

On the other side of the sealed door, Wanda fought to free you from your captors, her powers surging as she attempted to disable the security measures and reach you as quickly as possible. She knew the amount of time it would take her to break through the mechanism would be fatal for you, so she desperately took to screaming at the scientists to unlock the door and sending a wave of magic knocking them against the wall when they wouldn't cooperate. The scientists, however, were determined to keep you separated and eliminate the threat they posed to their operation. The mission had taken a treacherous turn, and you were left alone in a race against time to survive the effects of the chemical while Wanda fought desperately to save you.

As the seconds flew by, your vision grew hazy and Wanda knew you were reaching critical condition as the rash spread to your face. When brute force failed, she surged into the minds of the scientists standing before her to figure out how to disable the chamber. Once she was deep enough within their mind to bend their bodies to her will, she was finally able to free you.

As soon as the doors opened to allow Wanda to reach you, she rushed in without a second thought, her magic almost working subconsciously to move whatever was left of the chemical in the air. You laid on the floor hanging onto any bit of consciousness you could grasp onto as you faded in and out, just hoping to make it out alive.

The witch scooped you up and darted for the exit, “Nat, we have an emergency situation here. Need medical evac NOW!” Wanda said over the comms. Her sprint turned into a quick glide through the air as she found it easier and quicker to let her magic take you both through the base and toward the exit.

“Roger that, contacted HQ for the tac team and medical. 10 minutes out.” Nat responded, “What hap-”

“Fuck- 10 minutes? I don’t know if she has that long,” Wanda responded with worry, as she looked down at you shaking in pain as you drifted in and out of awareness, “Y/N, hey look at me, can you hear me?” Wanda spoke gently but with urgency, as you met her gaze briefly before your eyes rolled back slightly in a blur, “Medical is on the way, you just need to hold out for 10 minutes, I’m going to get you there, just- hang on” Wanda stated as her grip on you tightened and her magic quickened in pace.

Within minutes, Wanda met up with a medical team that arrived on the scene. They assessed your condition and quickly realized the severity of the situation. You were unconscious, struggling to breathe, and not only displaying signs of chemical poisoning but also a rash they had never seen before.

Working together, Wanda and the medical team carefully stabilized your condition as best they could on-site. They administered oxygen and provided preliminary treatment to counteract the effects of the chemical agent.

Recognizing the urgency of the situation, the medical team made the critical decision to transfer you to a nearby hospital equipped to handle chemical exposure cases. They carefully loaded you onto a gurney and rushed you onto an awaiting helicopter.

During the tense journey to the hospital, Wanda rode alongside you holding her hand and offering silent reassurance, while Nat and Maria stayed back to work with the tactical team. The situation remained dire, but they were doing everything they could to give you the best chance of survival.

At the hospital, a team of specialized medical professionals took over your care, working tirelessly to detoxify your system and stabilize your condition. The chemical exposure had taken a toll on your body, and even after all this time, your prognosis remained uncertain.

Wanda, exhausted and fraught with worry, refused to leave your side. As if every reason she had to hate you flew out the window, she was determined to stand by her partner throughout this ordeal, hoping and praying for your recovery.

Wanda was pulled from her spiraling thoughts in the waiting room as she heard a nurse utter, “She’s stable,” in a very neutral tone, so neutral that maWanda was unsure if it was actually good news, “but she’s not out of the woods yet.” she warned as she motioned for Wanda to follow her in to be by your side once again.

The brunette stood to follow, “Is she awake?”

The nurse shook her head, mentioning that she doesn’t expect you to wake up for at least 12 hours. They needed to ensure that your body has flushed out the toxin before allowing it to exert any more energy.

Wanda took the seat by your bed and notified Natasha of the situation. She was hopeful, knowing you're a fighter, and Wanda tried to be optimistic as well, “It should’ve been me, Nat,” Wanda stated full of guilt and regret. Nat did her best to assure Wanda that she would’ve done the same and your situation was in no way her fault. Deep down, she wonders if she actually would’ve done the same.

“You better wake up, Sprints, or I swear. How dare y- why do you have to be the best at everything?” She sighed as her body trembled and a tear spilled from her eyelid.

After two long and agonizing days of unconsciousness, you finally began to stir in the hospital bed. Your vision was hazy at first, and you struggled to regain full awareness but as your senses gradually sharpened, you slowly became aware of the sterile hospital room that surrounded you.

The first thing you noticed was Wanda, sitting by your bedside. As your eyes met Wanda’s, your heart skipped a beat, you could see her gaze filled with a mixture of concern and relief. It was unlike her, but you couldn't help but smile weakly, your voice hoarse as you croaked out a greeting. "Hey there."

Wanda's expression softened, and she reached for your hand, squeezing it gently. "You're awake," she replied, her relief evident in her voice until it starkly changed to anger, almost like a mask, “Don't ever do that again!” she warned, brows furrowing.

“Wow, not even a thank you.” you teased as Wanda bit back to reiterate, “I’m serious y/n, I could’ve protected myself.”

“Yeah, but I protected us both,” you snarkily replied letting the brunette build up steam as you dug further.

“Protected? You almost got yourself killed, for nothing! God you're insufferable!” she exclaimed, not even wanting to be in the room with you anymore. Remembering just how annoying it is to even hold a conversation with you.

“Didn’t realize you cared,”

As your eyes continued to scan the room, you spotted Natasha and Maria entering the room with a tray of coffee and snacks, “Coffee anyone? Oh Y/N, you're awake!”

You smiled in response as Nat took the coffee from her wife with a smile, letting the tension built between you and Wanda disipate as they took over the conversation.

“You gave us quite the scare there, y/n,” Nat noted, as much as she worried for you, she knew you were a fighter with the best medical team in the country.

“Aw, you were worried?” You teased, knowing Nat to always keep a stone cold exterior to most, only letting ones that she was close to, like you, really get to see her emotions.

“Not one bit,” she lied and everyone in the room knew.

As Nat and Maria took over the conversation, Wanda sat there brewing. Not only could she not understand the emotions she was feeling for you, but they just kept brewing as he sat in silence. Anger, relief, annoyance, worry, it all swam around in a confusion pool of questions. Her abrupt departure was without a word and you looked to Nat as she left, “Guess she’s tapped out on me for the day,”

Nat knew that you and Wanda had a rocky relationship but she felt that the brunettes behavior was quite uncalled for given the circumstances, “mm, I’ll talk to her,” Nat hummed as she got up to leave the room in pursuit of Wanda.

“And then there were two,” you joked with Maria.

Nat found Wanda in the hallway walking toward the exit of the hospital, she was headed back to the cabin as that’s where the 3 of them have been staying while you were stuck in a foreign hospital until you were ready to be transferred back to New York, “What the fuck was that?” Nat aggressively shouted in Wanda’s direction.

Wanda quickly snapped her head around to the familiar voice, eyes landing on the angry Russian, “Not now Nat, please.” She dismissed as she stayed on her path.

“No, Wanda, you don’t get to pick and choose. Y/N was practically on her deathbed to save you and this is how you want to act? What’s so terrible that you can’t even spend more than 5 minutes with her?”

“I didn’t need her to save me, she just made it all even more,” Wanda paused before bursting out, “DIFFICULT!”

Nat could tell this was about more than just getting you to safety after the mission. She knew Wanda had dealt with a lot and always had a hard time getting her emotions in check. Instead of pressing further, she decided to switch up the metaphorical cards in her hands, “well all she wanted was to make sure you were safe.” With that, Nat turned to head back to your room. Wanda stood there watching her walk away, knowing she was right.

Before Wanda could decide what to do next the ground began to shake. It was subtle at first but soon, the items lining the walls and the structure of the building began to tremble along with it. Nat turned back to Wanda, who was still standing behind her, “Is that you?” She raised her brow, knowing the answer would be no, but hoping that it was by chance as that would make their job much easier.

Wanda shook her head, confusion written all over her face as Nat turned again in the direction of your room in a full sprint, Wanda following Nat’s lead closely behind. Nat easily put the pieces together that the chemical agent you were exposed to would have effects that they could not predict.

When they made it to your room, they were met with Maria trying to calm you down as you shook and writhed on the bed in pain. Your skin felt like it had just been dipped in lava causing your temperature to rise so much that you could visibly see a slight red tint on your face. Inside was arguably even worse as the uncontrollable shivers caused you to feel lightheaded and nauseous.

Nat tried calling for a doctor through the hallways as the building began shaking even more. The worse your condition became, the more aggravated the building shook. They had to do something before the hospital filled with hundreds of innocent people became rubble. Wanda came to the side of your bed opposite Maria, shock prominent on her features as she watched you squirm, not knowing how to help.

Maria could tell that Wanda was struggling with how to help, honestly, she didn't know exactly what to do either, but she did know that they had to get the building to stop shaking, and she was sure with Wanda’s magic, they would be able to help you somehow, “We have to neutralize the seismic waves emitting from her somehow,” Maria told Wanda as she kept her eyes on you, trying to figure out a solution.

With that, Wanda was snapped out of the frozen state she was in as her eyes lit up red and she dove into your mind, trying to get answers. Near instantly her body began to tremble as a whimper fell from her mouth at the pain that radiated from you, “Y/N you have to calm down, the whole building is about to collapse”

“I’m not doing anything,” your thoughts fighting to make sense of the situation, “I-I can't control it! H-HURTS!”

Wanda’s balance faltered as the building’s shaking became more intense, her grip on the railing of your hospital bed tightened, and it became clear to her that her best option was to sedate you. She reached her hands toward your temple and let the red tendrils of her magic flow freely toward your skin as they rooted themselves within your mind. Taking hold and lulling you into a calm state of peaceful sleep. Slowly but surely, the building stood still again and soon after, a doctor came in to assess the situation.

“About time,” Natasha spat with clear irritation towards the doctor.

Wanda, felt a growing unease as Dr. Scholt entered the room. His icy, judgmental gaze fell onto you as he began to examine your medical chart and machines. It was clear to Wanda that his discomfort with powered individuals was not something he could easily hide.

Ignoring Nat’s comment, Dr. Scholt made his way over to assess your condition eventually swaying from their original plan of keeping you until you were stable enough to be transferred, “I've seen too many of their kind, causing nothing but chaos and destruction. We don't have the resources to deal with creatures like this in our hospitals,” unaware that one of the most powerful enhanced individuals was standing right beside him, his disdain for you was clear with his tone and judgmental words.

With a mixture of anger and concern, Natasha’s eyes narrowed, and her voice carried a hint of impatience as she retorted, "We're here because we need medical assistance, Doctor, not a lecture. Y/N's condition is the priority, and I expect her to receive the same care as any other patient. Your personal opinions have no place in a hospital room."

Before the doctor had the chance to respond, Wanda cut in, “No, it’s fine. He made his stance awfully clear,” she quarreled with a head tilt toward the doctor before turning back to Natasha, “We’ll take it from here,”

“Great, I’ll get her prepped for transport,” the doctor mentioned as he attempted to grab sedatives to administer to you for the ride. However, Wanda wasn’t going to let him or his team lay another finger on you after the display he just made, knowing even from his thoughts, that his ill intentions may get the better of him.

Before he left the room, Wanda caught his attention, “Maybe I wasn’t clear, Adam,” refusing to use his doctorate title, “we will take it from here.” she precisely articulated in a sharp manner, “Our transport team is on the way, You and your team are not to lay another finger on Agent y/l/n. Are we clear?” she flared, starring daggers into his soul.

“How do you know my name?” he bit back as if that was the most important thing that Wanda said.

“Are we clear?” Wanda repeated, without any explanation for the extra information. The doctor quickly took the hint as he nodded and scurried out of the room.

Wanda’s gaze shifted to meet Nat’s gaze who stood by the door as she watched the doctor walk past her to leave the room, “All that for someone you hate, can’t imagine what you're like when you actually like somebody,” she teased.

“I don’t hate her,” Wanda defended as she tried to hide the growing smirk on her face, “She’s just the most annoying person I’ve ever met,” she added to keep her position on you clear and she couldn’t have anyone thinking she likes you in the slightest, “But he wanted to do more to her than prep her for transport,” She informed the two other agents that stood with her in the room around your bed.

“Well, Y/N’s lucky to have you in her corner, once Fury hears about this, Mr. Sholt can kiss his doctorate goodbye,” Maria reassured as she took a seat beside your bed to wait for the transport team to arrive in a couple hours.

Once SHIELD’S medical team arrived, they administered sedatives to keep you unconscious during the flight and prepared you for the jet before you woke up. Wanda was instructed to be by your side as an extra precaution, in case you somehow woke up or your unhinged powers started going haywire in your sleep.

The ride back was tame with no real issues, at one point Wanda could sense your consciousness creeping back in but she was able to quickly lull you back to comatose with her magic. Once the jet landed, they quickly got you set up in the med bay at the compound in Upstate New York. This was not typical protocol for the team. Since you were not an Avenger and merely a Shield agent, proper protocol would be to take you to the medical facilities at SHIELD headquarters. Natasha wouldn’t allow that to happen though, under her authority, she made sure you were overseen by the best team available and close enough to keep watch on.

In a matter of hours, the team ran all the tests they deemed necessary, concluding that the chemicals you came into contact with ignited something that laid dormant in your DNA. The gene acted as a sponge for the toxins, without it, the poison would’ve continued to spread and shut down every part of your body slowly and painfully. Instead, the contagion was absorbed into the gene strand, which was subsequently sent into its next phase. Without the toxin, this gene could’ve laid dormant within you forever, instead, it entered a new stage, triggering your new abilities.

“Was anyone else in contact with this chemical?” Dr Cho asked out of an abundance of caution, knowing that if they had been, they probably wouldn’t be in such good condition.

Nat looked to Wanda for a response, knowing she was the one in the room with you when it was released. Wanda’s gaze fell to the floor for a brief second before she began, “No, they meant to expose me but Y/N pushed me out of the way,” Wanda explained as she recalled the events from a couple of days prior.

Dr. Cho nodded slightly in acknowledgment before responding “It’s a good thing Y/N was the one affected by this in all honesty. Without running tests, there’s no way to know whether the rest of the team has the gene structure to survive such an attack. She got real lucky,” Dr. Cho explained as she went over the results of the tests.

Wanda struggled with this internally. Part of her was thankful things unfolded the way they did because if they hadn't the situation could've been a lot worse, but the other part twisted it to figure that you must have just been trying to 1-up her. You never do anything nice without something in it for yourself, at least in her eyes. This wasn’t anything new when it came to the way she thought about you. It was often that your intentions were competitive and came off abrasive, but she tended to use that model of thought for anything you did in her presence. Shaking every bit of sincerity off for a hidden agenda, and refusing to see any good in you. Deep down, maybe she didn’t want to see the good in you, it was so much easier to be closed off. Afraid that once she starts to unravel you, she’ll have no more walls to hide behind. No more armor to keep her from falling for you, to keep her safe from the pain she’s always known to follow. So, she doesn't think too deeply about it, instead, she lets her thoughts protect her.

It was easier for her to paint you as an asshole than to deal with the mixed emotions she felt for you. Blaming everything on your lack of empathy acted almost as a shield for her, enabling her to bury other emotions so deep that she could forget about them. After replaying the events over and over in her head on a loop, she was able to spin the story in her head and concluded that you must’ve known about your genetics. You had to go through genetic testing to be a field operative with such high clearance, surely that’s how you knew. So the only reason you even pushed her out of the way was to look like the hero, to make it look like she needed saving, knowing full well you’d make it out just fine. Ugh, you’re the worst.

With that, it was like a switch in Wanda flipped. As if her emotions were immediately shut off, she stopped visiting you at the medbay and was happy to go about her daily life without a care in the world of your condition.

You spent the next few weeks recovering. Natasha was by your side every step of the way, acutely aware of who visited you and who didn’t. Wanda never did. Tony came by a few times, you two weren't very close but he felt the need to show face at least. With nothing much to talk about, Tony always defaulted to talking about work when he was nervous. He didn’t find himself in too many situations without anything to say, but when he did, he attempted to claim the room with his confidence as he always had in his career. Almost as a nervous tik, he defaulted to talking about things that he knew a great deal about, even if the people around him didn’t.

To his surprise, you were easily able to keep up with his shop talk jargon and follow along with the schematics he propped open as examples. The two of you quickly began bonding over your love for science and math. Nat noticed the uptick in visits from Stark and was happy to see you making more connections with the people she called family.

Some of the other Avengers made their way down to the medbay as well after Nick encouraged it in a meeting. He knew how good of an agent you were, following your progress ever since word spread about you during your time at SHIELD Academy. It was practically unheard of for an Agent to graduate early, only 2 had ever done it before you. Since then, he made sure to check up on your progress every few months, hoping you’d grow into a top agent so he could use you on one of his special teams. With your new onset of abilities, he figured that eventually, you’d fit right in as a new addition to the Avengers.

Fury rarely leaves anything to chance though, including your development. In order to get you comfortable with your newfound abilities, you’d need a mentor. Someone who has gone through a transition like yours before. After giving it some thought, there was only one other person on the team who could relate to you in that sense.

Thor, while he did have to prove he was worthy to his father and himself in order to unlock his full potential, his powers always belonged to him. There was nothing unexpected or confusing about it. He has always wielded his power with knowledge and confidence. Similarly, Steve’s transition was also foreseen and he was able to quickly and seamlessly get a hold of his powers.

Bruce on the other hand, still struggles to keep the beast inside of him under control. While he may be able to relate to the situation you’re currently experiencing, he wouldn’t be the right fit to mentor you with the way he is still trying to figure things out for himself.

It was clear that Wanda could relate to your situation most closely. While she may have volunteered in the experiments carried out by Hydra, the outcome was something she never could’ve expected. For a while, she struggled to come to terms with what her body was capable of. Fearing that she would lose control and hurt someone unintentionally, and deep down the fear always lingers, but she has learned how to control it; and while she may not believe it herself, her team trusts her and her ability to keep her powers in check.

Fury knew the two of you were far from besties, but he hoped this mentorship could double as a bonding experience to help get you more acclimated to the team. Wanda would need to get used to you being around more often, whether she was okay with it or not, he hoped this could help nudge her in the direction of welcoming the transition.

“No. Not a chance in hell.” Wanda argued as she stood from the chair opposite Fury in his office. Nick didn’t offer a reaction, instead, he kept his face neutral and waited for Wanda to come to terms with the arrangement.

Noticing that Fury was not giving in, Wanda broke the silence to add, “Why me? I have nothing to teach her, she’s insufferable. This seems like more of a Rodger’s job.”

“The arrangement isn’t negotiable, Maximoff. Y/N has a lot to learn from you and I’m sure you’ll be a great teacher once she’s back on her feet.” Wanda scoffed, anger beating off her, as she went to leave the meeting.

“Oh, one more thing,” Nick added causing the brunette to pause and turn by the door, “Y/N will not know about this arrangement of ours, and I intend to keep it that way, are we clear?” without giving a clear response, Wanda rolled her eyes and stormed off to the gym, wanting to let her anger out on something meant to be hit before she ended up taking it out on the nearest wall.. “Oh, and I expect an influx of visits from you to the medbay!” He shouted towards her retreating form down the hall.

Straight from Fury’s office, she stormed into the gym with a palpable aura of frustration and anger. Her usually calm and composed demeanor had given way to an agitated energy that practically crackled in the air around her.

Nat, who happened to be in the gym working on her own training routine, turned her head as she sensed Wanda's arrival. The room seemed to darken with Wanda's stormy presence, and Natasha knew that something had clearly set her off.

Wanda didn't waste a moment. She approached one of the punching bags, her eyes flashing with a mix of determination and anger. Without saying a word, she unleashed a series of powerful punches and kicks that sent the heavy bag swinging wildly.

Wanda's frustration reverberated through the gym as she relentlessly pummeled the punching bag, each strike carrying the weight of her annoyance. The ferocity of her strikes was a clear indication of her irritation. Natasha, noticing the intensity of Wanda's training session, decided it was time to address the obvious tension. Wanda's training strikes were powerful and precise, a physical manifestation of her inner turmoil.

Once Nat felt that Wanda had gotten out her initial anger, she approached her friend cautiously, waiting for a break in the flurry of punches before speaking. She knew better than anyone that sometimes words were not enough, and physical exertion was the only way to cope with intense emotions, "Wanda, what's going on?" Natasha asked, her tone laced with concern as she held the opposite side of the punching bag sturdy for Wanda to continue laying on punches.

“Fury.” She growled, “He wants me to.” *PUNCH* “mentor y/n” *PUNCH* “he won’t let” *PUNCH* “Steve do it.” *PUNCH* “He wouldn’t listen” *PUNCH* “ugh!” the punching finally stopped as she left a hand on the punching bag for balance while she caught her breath.

Natasha peeked around the bag that she held steady for Wanda to give her opinion, trying to approach with caution, knowing Wanda wouldn't like what she had to say.

Natasha didn’t know what triggered it, but she noticed the stark change in the way Wanda went from caring about you in the foreign hospital to completely shutting herself off from you as soon as you got back to New York.

Nat took a step back from the bag to gather her thoughts, “Let me get this straight, you’re throwing a fit because the girl who just saved your life is going through life-changing trauma right now and Fury is asking you to help her through it because you have experience and have been through a similar situation?” with one eyebrow slightly raised, she shot Wanda a pointed glare.

With her frustration rebuilding as she processed Nat’s words, Wanda pushed the bag away and turned toward the door, “Oh, here we go again. Poor Y/N she’s always the victim,” Wanda marched toward the door, not wanting to hear another person defend you. In her eyes, you were conniving and everything you did was calculated, other people just couldn't see past your charm to expose how much you actually tormented her. They couldn’t see how she was so clearly the victim in this circumstance. They couldn't see how twisted you made everything. She could though, she saw right through you.

Nat wasn’t letting her get off that easy. She chased after the brunette trying to storm out and grabbed her shoulder, turning her around to be face to face. Against her own desire, Wanda’s feet stayed planted to see what Nat had to say.

“Are you serious? You two may not be friends, but she saved your fucking life. She was there for you, the least you could do is offer her some support and show a sliver of gratitude! You need to take a good hard look at yourself, this isn’t the Wanda I know.” Nat scolded

Seething, Wanda bit back through gritted teeth, “I didn’t ask her to.” without giving Natasha the opportunity to speak, she turned on her heel and stormed out of the gym.

Natasha stood there nearly dumbfounded, wondering what had gotten into Wanda to make her so heartless and cruel towards you.

From the gym, instead of wallowing alone in her room, Wanda decides to leave the compound for a walk around the grounds. As she walked alone with her own thoughts, she desperately tried to calm the anger within. Spending more time with you was the last thing she wanted to do, especially after coming to the conclusion that your heroic act was just a ruse.

As she strolled, she went through countless scenarios for ways that she could get out of this whole situation. There wasn’t a single one that she thought was good enough to change Fury’s mind.

What if I broke my hand? No, I'm sure he’d still make me teach her. What if the compound mysteriously caught fire? That would probably only delay things. What if there was an Avenger’s level threat? He’d probably just make me do it when I got back. What if I became evil and left the Avengers to take over the world or something? That could work, though it’s a bit dramatic and I don't even want to take over the world.

Knowing that Nat was on your side about this already told her that everyone else at the compound would share Fury’s opinion. Out of the whole team, Nat was the one most likely to take Wanda’s side for anything. She always knew that if Natasha’s opinion differed on a subject, the others were bound to as well.

Wanda took the rest of the day to decompress and attempt to accept that she’d have to mentor you. The next day during breakfast, she heard Tony and Thor mention they’d be visiting you once they finished their meal. Knowing she’d have to see you eventually, Wanda’s ears perked at the opportunity to tag along and not go alone, “Can I come?” Wanda’s eagerness came as a shock to the two men sitting across the counter from her, but also to everyone else within earshot who wasn’t involved in the conversation.

“Come to see y/n?” Tony clarified, not sure if Wanda had heard them correctly but she nodded in confirmation, “ye- yea of course.” he confirmed, surprised Wanda had any interest in visiting you.

The hum of medical equipment filled the medbay as Tony and Thor entered, their presence bringing a dynamic shift to the room. You were still in the process of recovery, looking up with a mixture of surprise and gratitude as the two Avengers approached and Wanda trailed behind. She didn’t say anything as the two of them greeted you, and instead, she took the furthest seat in the room from your bed.

Tony, always one for theatrics, struck a dramatic pose. "Fear not, citizens! Iron Man and the God of Thunder have arrived to grace you with our formidable presence."

Thor chuckled, nodding in agreement. "Indeed! We heard tell of a valiant warrior in need of cheering, and so we have descended."

You couldn't help but smile at their playful entrance, a welcome distraction from the monotony of the medbay. However, as the three of you continued the banter, Wanda lingered at the periphery, sitting leaned back with her arms crossed and a subtle expression of indifference on her face.

Not letting her get away with sneaking in unnoticed, you broke the silence that lingered between the two of you, “Wasn’t expecting you to be here, Wanda. Did someone force you to be here or something?” You saw right through her, but before she could lie through gritted teeth and say that she was there of her own volition, Tony spoke up instead, “Believe it or not, she actually asked us to come,” Tony defended.

Riding along Tony’s explanation, Wanda forced a smile to sell it. She was grateful that he had beat her to it, she was never much good at lying. You weren’t fully convinced that there wasn’t some underlying explanation for her presence but you accepted it with an impressed look on your face, “Wow, no hidden agenda?”

“Actually there is one,” Wanda clarified as she began to explain, “I’m going to mentor you.”

“Mentor?” You were taken aback. Why was Wanda suddenly interested in mentoring you and what made her think you wanted to be her mentee?

“Yeap, we’ve both been through similar experiences and you have a lot to learn about controlling your new powers,” she added with passive aggressiveness dripping from her words.

You wanted to question her further, but you also didn’t want to push her to rescind her offer. Truthfully, you were kind of excited at the thought of Wanda teaching you how to wield your newfound abilities. You knew that she went through a similar situation while she was with Hydra and the thought of spending more time with her, though you would never admit it, made you excited, “oh- okay.” you accepted.

Wanda expected more of a fight with you about this but was relieved to get it over with easily.

“How exciting,” Thor announced, “I know a thing or two about using powers myself if you need help or anything.”

“I’ll be sure to give you a call if I find a magical hammer,” you teased making the other two chuckle.

Taglist: @marvelogic @esposadejoyhuerta @ju-maxi89 @gingiesworld @simpforlizzie @bigbattygyal585 @cakechan123 @xxxtwilightaxelxxx

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vigilante-3073 · 1 year ago

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Tree-hugger

Daryl Dixon x Female Reader

PART 2

Summary: Daryl managed to convince Y/N to move closer to the prison. He keeps true to his promise of visiting her.

TW: Flirting, fluff, nervous Daryl

Y/N lived in the forest just outside the fences of the prison. Daryl tried to convince her to come inside, but she refused. Y/N operated on her own schedule, moving to different areas around the perimeter every few days. Daryl tended to think of her as an outdoor cat, only coming around when she wanted attention or food.

Daryl gave her a radio to keep in touch, checking up on her when he hadn't seen her in a few days. She had managed to survive this long without any assistance and Daryl couldn't deny that he was impressed.

Daryl invited her on scavenging missions, providing her with the opportunity to help out and get some more supplies for herself at the same time. Y/N waited for him outside the gates whenever they were going to go on a run, never going inside.

She trusted Daryl implicitly and he felt the same way. It was both the strangest and longest lasting friendship that Daryl ever had.

...

Daryl and Y/N sat around the fire in silence, a lit cigarette dangling from his fingers as he watched her cook a rabbit. Life in the prison had finally settled and things were starting to function as they should.

Crops had started to grow in the yard and they had running water for the first time in a long time. They were safe and life was good.

Y/N deserved that too. She deserved to have an actual bed and a stable place to call home, even for a few days.

"You can trust them, y'know?" Daryl said, taking a drag from his cigarette and blowing smoke up into the air.

"Trust who?" Y/N questioned, eyes not moving from the fire as she rotated the meat in the flame.

"My group... Or Rick, at least," Daryl said, flicking the ashes from the end of his cigarette.

"I trust you. That's enough for me," Y/N stated, eyes finding his over the fire and shooting him a small smile, "Besides, groups make me nervous and I work better on my own anyway," She shrugged.

"What about me?" Daryl asked.

"If you're willing to drag that beautifully sculpted body of yours up a tree, I would be more than happy to turn this into a two man operation," Y/N said, eyes running over him appreciatively.

"I can't climb for shit," He said with a smile, flicking the ashes from the end of his cigarette.

"I could teach you," Y/N offered.

"Nah, you just want an excuse to stare at my ass all day," Daryl said, taking a drag from his cigarette.

"It is a nice ass," She smiled.

Daryl didn't push the subject of meeting the group. He knew that she would come around in due time.

...

Daryl made his way through the forest, crossbow held close to himself as he stared up into the trees. He knew that Y/N had moved into this area since the last time he saw her.

Daryl would never understand how she managed to blend in so well.

Y/N watched him walk by with a smile, lounging on a high branch that was concealed by leaves. She reached over and plucked an acorn from one of the leafy branches above her. Y/N threw the acorn, laughing as it hit the archer square in the center of his back.

"Booyah!" She yelled.

Daryl spun around, squinting up at the trees as he scanned the branches for her, "Where the hell are you?" He called.

"Over here, handsome!" Y/N yelled.

Daryl shook his head as he made his way over, staring up at her from the ground. He could just barely see her through the lush greenery.

"Why'd you go so high up?" Daryl asked.

"To watch you wander around aimlessly while I throw things at you," She smiled.

"Get your ass down here. I brought dinner," He said, holding up a string of squirrels.

Y/N untied herself and climbed down from the tree quickly. Daryl hovered at the base, ready to catch her if she slipped.

Y/N dropped down onto the ground, dusting her hands on her pants, "Is that a new shirt?" She asked, eyes running over him.

Daryl nodded, "Found it yesterday," He stated.

"Looks good on you. Plus, it shows off those big arms that I love so much," She said with a wink.

Daryl smiled slightly, cheeks flushing, "Shut up," He muttered.

"About how gorgeous you are? Never," She smirked, "There's a clearing over this way," She added.

Daryl shook his head before following her through the trees. She went to work building the fire as he prepared the squirrels.

"Rick wants to go on another run tomorrow," Daryl said.

"Are you going?" Y/N asked, blowing carefully at the base of her fire before adding more tinder.

"You got a crush on me or somethin'?" He asked.

"Of course I do. Have you seen yourself? I'd have your sexy redneck ass wifed up in a minute if marriage was still a thing" She replied casually, adding small pieces of wood to the fire.

Daryl smiled, even when he flirted back Y/N still managed to leave him speechless. He looked up as she sat back on her haunches, looking over at him.

"I'm goin' with Rick tomorrow," He said.

"Fantastic, so am I," She replied.

...

Daryl made his way out into the forest with a flashlight, it was the latest he had ever gone out and he hoped Y/N was still awake.

Daryl and Rick had gone off on a scouting mission that kept them away for a few days. Rick needed to collect medical supplies and some items for the baby.

Daryl smiled slightly when he saw firelight in the distance. He made his way towards it, turning off his flashlight as he approached.

"Howdy, stranger. I thought you forgot about me," Y/N said with a smile.

"Went out with Rick for a few days," Daryl said, sitting down on the ground beside her with his back leaned against the fallen tree trunk.

"Rabbit?" She asked, holding up the stick of cooked meat.

Daryl nodded, taking the stick from her outstretched hand and pulling some meat off the bone.

Y/N watched him eat for a moment before turning her attention back to the fire, "I missed you," She said.

"Missed you too," Daryl replied gruffly.

"You gonna stay out here tonight?" She asked.

He nodded, "I'm not climbing a tree though," Daryl said.

"You're going to sleep on the ground like a-" "Normal person? Yeah," Daryl said.

"Oh, so you think I'm abnormal?" Y/N questioned.

"Yeah," He stated.

"Don't insult me, Daryl, I'll fall in love with you," Y/N said.

He huffed a laugh, "Would that be a bad thing?" Daryl asked with a smile.

"Just when I thought you couldn't get any hotter," Y/N smirked.

#daryl dixon imagine #daryl fanfiction #twd daryl #daryl dixon #daryl x reader #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon x you #daryl dixion imagine #daryl dixion x reader #daryl dixon x female reader #daryl dixon x y/n

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cherryblossompink303 · 2 months ago

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Can't pretend chapter one: Ex Machina

➼ pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader ➼ summary: The team is brought in to help on a case that you and spencer have been working on undercover for the past six months. ➼ what to expect: "Only if you admit that you're enjoying this too" ➼ warnings: CM typical violence- minimal detail ➼ Prologue | Part two

The only light emitting from the history department was the old warm lighting from the hallways, almost all the classrooms packed up for the day bar one.

Sitting within the warm lighting of the old lamps in the school buildings, the smell of chalk and dust in the air, was a famed professor completing his fifth crossword of the evening.

The distant footsteps out in the hallway did not even register in his mind, too busy thinking of a thirteen letter term of a sudden godly resolution. But he should have, for someone so smart he made it far too easy.

No, for someone who would presumably be so susceptive it should not have taken him until I was in the room for him to realise. But that's just how these types are, secure. Too secure.

A mind with an 179 IQ slashed to zero just like my knife into his chest, almost a waste, almost.

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

Ex Machina

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

"So I'll get straight to the point we have a big case" Emily drops the case file on the table of the meeting room of the briefing room of the BAU. "As we all know our very own Dr Reid has been on a high profile undercover case for the past few months, he should still be there however this morning a message came in through his one line of communication this morning, he and his partner are at risk of being compromised and he needs our help from our end to catch the unsub or unsubs"

"Unsubs? They think it could be a team?" JJ raises an eyebrow, flicking through the case file

"The murders that they are investigating has possible ties to organised crime so it is possible that there are multiple unsubs" Garcia nods, turning to the screen as he taps away at her tablet "Reid and his partner will brief us over call from their safe houses imminently as soon as he figures out the technology, so bear with as we all know how our beloved doctor is very much analogue and not digital, ah!"

With a slight glitch crime scene photos are quickly replaced by a split screen of their very own Spencer Reid, and a woman they do not recognise, you. "Oh my god it's really you! Hi!" Garcia fawns over the appearance of spencer. It has been months since you and spencer had been assigned to new haven, and as protocol is for most deep cover cases, you had both gone completely cut off from your previous lives prior to the case for that reason. Spencer mutters a happy but also somewhat shy hello at the greetings of the BAU.

"And you must be Dr y/n l/n" Prentiss nods to the other side of the screen where you are sat, slightly left out of the loop of what is going on. "Yes I am, it's nice to put names to faces Spencer speaks quite highly of you all"

"I would say likewise but that would have been breaking protocol if he did"

"While I love all this reunion banter i'm afraid we do not have much time"

The two of you nod over the call "Right"

"For the past six months Dr Reid and I have been undercover investigating a series of murders surrounding Harvard university"

"Whoever this unsub is seems to be targeting academics and leaving puzzles and codes at the crime scenes, some of the ones which we have deciphered point towards a cartel that has been operating in the area"

"The only problem is, the unsub is onto us, a note was left at the most recent murder that we believe was addressed to us"

"'To my two old friends, I see you have made your opening move, but be warned, I live to find a mate, I await your response' well that is interesting, somewhat resembles the letters Jack the ripper would leave" JJ's brows furrow as she reads the scanned version of the note from her tablet.

"Yes but those letters were taunting the police the language in this letter is very different, welcoming to Reid and L/n"

"There's also a line that sticks out to me 'i live to find a mate' while it is obviously is referring to a checkmate in chess it implies a sexual aspect in the murders that was not evident prior to this murder" You ramble slightly

"What's the victimology?"

"So far it is varied, no preference of gender or seemingly age or class the only through line it seems that all the victims have an IQ at a minimum of 150" You nod in confirmation of Reid's explanation "Although we have noticed more overkill in the men"

A buzz of your burner phone draws your attention away from the call "Sorry I'm gonna have to cut this short my source in the cartel has just messaged to meet I'm gonna have to go"

"Of course, the last thing you should do right now is disrupt routine and risk compromising your cover"

"It was nice to meet you all" You blip out of the call.

"Oh my god" JJ mutters in entertainment now that you are missing from the call "What is it?" Spencer raises an eyebrow. "Are you kidding? Have you noticed that Dr l/n sounds just like you?" Emily speaks up.

"Really? You think?"

"Yeah you have the same almost the exact same inflections in your voice when you explain things, you two are so similar"

"Trust me, me and Dr l/n are nothing alike"

"How are you?"

"I'm okay, still getting used to it all I think"

Emily sits up "Reid you said that the unsub is onto you and Dr l/n, do you two need to be pulled out?"

"We don't have any reason to believe that the unsub knows our identities so I think it is a little early to right now, the unsub just knows there's two people after him"

"Okay just...be careful"

"I will,

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

6 months ago...

For someone who has spent over a decade in the FBI he did not know what to expect from the house that the FBI placed him with, he was expecting a barebones house, absolute basics, when in actuality there was an profound amount of depth of character in the house it was almost unsettling, stepping into a house for the first time that he has already supposedly lived in.

"You must be Reid" you were already waiting for him in the kitchen as he arrived, helped yourself to a cup of coffee, not being able to resist the urge to immediately profile you, you were confident, clearly more experienced in these kinds of things than he was. "Yes, Dr Spencer Reid, nice to meet you...."

However it was telling how much was false for the assignment and how much was real that would take longer. He was not told much about who would also be on the case with him but from the sounds of it he expected someone more like him, a stereotypical bookworm he supposed or even someone like Penelope. But the woman standing in front of him was far from it.

"Dr y/n l/n"

"You're a doctor also?" Spencer has a habit to avoid his eyes wandering, a symptom of his fast moving train of thought, taking in how you were dressed, pencil skirt, leather jacket, those were th only things seemingly computing.

"Don't sound so surprised, you know why we were both selected for this case, I'm right in saying this is your first time with an assignment like this right? Coffee?"

"Please, and yes, I've done the odd undercover here and there but nothing this...involved, also the last time I did it didn't go down very well..." he instinctively shook his head at the reminder of Kat.

You nodded with pursed lips, pouring him a cup of coffee "Well, in a way this is easier, like method acting a suppose, how many degrees?"

"Hm?"

Your head tilted to the side with a smirk "Come on, you heard me, don't act like you didn't wanna ask the same thing"

"Six, you?"

"Five, how many of them PHD's?"

"Three" "Ditto, you've been assigned to investigate in harvard right?"

Spencer did not know at what point this had descended into an interview on his part but there he was, finding himself answering your questions with little hesitation "Yes."

"Okay, great... now this is going sound a bit blunt so forgive me but you need to forget everything you just told me"

"What?"

"The key to deep cover is not drawing attention to yourself, becoming so bland that no one thinks twice about you, effectively becoming invisible" You hand over a file containing details and documents of his cover story "not to mention we are chasing a killer who is targeting academics, so, from now on, you are Mr. Arthur Simmons, with one degree, a Masters in physics with an iq of 130"

"Got it" Spencer nodded, giving a thumbs up as he flicked through the file.

"Beyond that I'm sure you'll be fine if you've done some light undercover work before, I'm sure you know basic protocol like no contact with friends and family, stuff like that."

"I must admit...you aren't what I expected"

"Yeah...I get that a lot...but it's also my job so I guess it can't hurt"

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

"Amelia, you're late"

"I told you to call me Amy, you sound like my parents" You shrug off your jacket, dropping it behind the bar "you know Simon doesn't like it when people are late"

"I know, sorry, it just took me a while to get away from my husband" You had always found it strange that the FBI had placed you both in a house together, this was the first time you had ever been on assignment where your cover is married to another agent, the words 'husband' and 'married' still feel foreign in your mouth six months later.

"Ew"

"Not like that you pervert, you know that he doesn't know I do all this" Tom laughs, leaning back against the bar "If you say so, I'd just stay out of Simon's way today he's on one"

"Am I now?" You near jump out your skin at the sudden voice behind you, turning around to realise that Simon is indeed stood behind you "You're late"

"I am, couldn't get away without questions being asked" the man in question hums "I suppose that can be understandable, I am a reasonable man after all, however you and I have a different problem"

"oh?"

"You see, I've noticed you haven't quite been pulling your weight around here"

"Simon I told you I'm happy to make connections for you but I ain't hurtin people it's not my style"

"That's fine yet you haven't been making any connections in a while now have you?"

"we get a lot of collage students and there's a murderer at the college at the moment, people don't wanna take risks at the moment" you jump behind the bar, cleaning glasses.

"I suppose so, but the point still stands Amelia, we need more people, so you better get creative" sighing you put on a disingenuous smile "Sure"

"good" Simon walks off "I told you" Tom whispers loudly next to you "whatever"

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

"Hey" You sigh out a greeting as you re-enter the house for the night. Spencer had been back a while, having left the building at 5pm, sat in the kitchen with the blinds drawn as he reviews the case files "how was 'work'?"

"You know you don't have to put in quotations, it is my job to be there"

"You know what I meant" he mutters, brows furrowed as he studied these codes that had been stumping the two of you for weeks "Spencer you're going to give yourself a headache if you keep doing that...have you got the phone"

"Yeah" He throws it over to you "It's just something about the script that is bothering me"

"I was thinking about that" you bite your tongue, tapping the contact for the secure hotline "What if the cipher was created by the unsub?"

Spencer's head snaps up at the question "What?" you shrug, suddenly feeling exposed "The symbols aren't from any known ciphers that are in the FBI database nor either of our knowledges, you said that your friend Garcia did a scan for similar codes?"

"Yeah, she came up empty"

"So the cipher is personal and unique to the unsub"

"But why? The profile we have built so far suggests that the unsub is an intellectual narcissist who feels overlook and needs to show the world how smart he is, surely the messages left at the disposal sites are for the world, the public or law enforcement, why use made up cipher with a script and symbols personal to him?"

You shrug, leaning forward against the kitchen island "To taunt us? To show that he is smarter than all of us by creating a cipher he knows we can't break"

Spencer mulled it over, biting the inside of his cheek "Possibly"

"Either way...perhaps we should start approaching it as a self made cipher even if it isn't, may get us a bit farther"

You lean over his shoulder to take a glance of the file "That's easier said than done" you hum in agreement "We need a board somewhere to lay it all out, start with the most common symbols, The most recurring is most likely the letter e, e is-"

"-the most commonly used letter in the English language" spencer finishing your sentence causes you to pause, this happens a lot, the two of you are so used to having to explain things to the people around you that you both have gotten used to doing it unnecessarily. "yeah."

You step back, realising that you are leaning a little too close for a colleague, choosing to sit up on the counter behind you, studying Spencer's facial features. His brows furrowed as he stares down at the messages left at the disposal sites, cheeks hollowed out as his lips purse, something however tugging at the corner of them.

"You're enjoying this aren't you?" you had to admit it was an entertaining watch, although you realise that you probably should not have been looking for as long as you did "What? n-no- of course not I'm just- these messages have been bothering me-"

Your laughing cuts him off "Whoa, calm down, I can't exactly be one to judge, but just admit it, the puzzles, the codes, deep down you enjoy solving them"

He leans back, straightening out as looks back at you "I thought I was the profiler here" You smirk, shrugging "I'm a fast learner" you push yourself back up to stand close to him, not backing down as your chin tilts upwards to look him dead in the eyes "Just admit it, I've seen you solved three crosswords in the morning in the time it takes you to finish a cup of coffee you are itching for a mental challenge and you don't want to admit that you're enjoying this because seven people are dead"

"Only if you admit that you're enjoying this too" his voice drops slightly, somehow a softer and rougher feel to it at the same time, not backing down either.

"Touché" Something about it incited a strange feeling in your ribcage, it wasn't a fluttering-no- you know it is not that, but it wasn't exactly a displeasant feeling either.

The ringtone of the phone causes the two of you to jump apart slightly, clearing your throat as you pick it up "Hello?"

"Hi! Your wonder woman in the chair here with some... disturbing news"

"Go on Garcia"

"So I was attempting to put together a timeline of the murders that have so far been tied to the unsub and as JJ so correctly pointed out is that the earliest murder in the timeline is far too sophisticated for this to be the unsub's first killing"

"Yeah we thought so as well but with no earlier match in M.O. we figured that the unsub is mostly has a background as hitman or possibly military"

"And that is a valid assumption, but, to double check because it wouldn't be the first time I ran the parameters through interpol's database thanks to Emily and I got a hit in London, England"

"What there were similar murders?"

"Not quite, robberies, museums, banks, very James Bond. Nearly didn't catch it but it certainly has the same cipher that this unsub is using"

"Garcia do you mind sending the details of that case over to us?"

"Oh Dr l/n you are yet to learn my brilliance, it's already in your inbox, Garcia out" the two of you exchange glances of shock and confusion as the phone hangs up. "Well, that certainly changes the profile..."

"Indeed" Spencer sighs, leaning back against the counter, you raise an eyebrow "I'll start on the cipher you start on the robberies?"

"Sounds like we've got work to do"

Next time on can't pretend: 'Borderline'

Taglist (reply/reblog to be added): @superbeaglewitch

#spencer reid x you #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #dr spencer reid #bau team #criminal minds x you #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds #dr reid

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lotusbxtch · 8 months ago

Text

Ocean's Gold - An Offering of Frith story

Pairing: Jack Daniels / Agent Whiskey x f!Reader Word Count: 6.4k Rating: Explicit - 18+ ADULTS ONLY, MDNI Frith Challenge god: Ægir

Summary: Jack Daniels, retired from the Statesmen, signs you on as the business partner for his new brewpub. Sparks fly, and you wonder if it could ever be more.

Tags/warnings: Tags/warnings: alcohol (beer) is a major part of the story, consumption of food & alcohol, a sprinkling of angst, fingering (f receiving), oral (f and m receiving), protected PIV, Jack is an absolute consent king & safe sex advocate, semi-public sex (1 scene), absolute tooth-rotting fluff (these two are SO CUTE). Reader has she/her pronouns and identifies as female, has a name (not including it yet to keep it a surprise!) and some backstory but otherwise there are no physical details included - it's you, darling! (psssst: 2 other P boys make a guest appearance!)

a/n: This is my (belated) entry for @perotovar's Offering of Frith Challenge. My P boy/Norse god combo was Jack Daniels & Ægir. This is actually my first time writing Jack! It was such a fun challenge, and although I was honestly initially scared that I bit off more than I could chew, I ended up loving what I've written. I hope you do too! (See the afterword for more details on Ægir and other nods to Norse mythology/traditions that I sprinkled in!) Thank you Erin for hosting this challenge, and @for-a-longlongtime for being my cheerleader, beta reader, and telling me over and over that I could do this! Moodboard by @perotovar, dividers by @saradika-graphics.

Just breathe, you got this.

You straighten out your outfit in the mirror in an attempt to quell your nerves. Dark jeans, espresso leather lace up boots, cropped well-worn Fleetwood Mac graphic tee, and your favorite blood red blazer. You swipe on a matching red lip, nod at yourself in the mirror, and leave your apartment to walk down to the brewery.

The 3 block-long walk gives you time to review what you learned about the business opportunity. Jack was a recently-retired government operative who inherited a large sum of money and wanted to use it to open a brewpub. A smart businessman already, he knew that in order for his brewpub to be successful - regardless of how good his beer was - he needed to have a damn good pub restaurant, too. Which is why you’re swinging open the brewpub’s doors on a mild fall evening, CV in hand: as it turns out, you were looking for your next culinary opportunity. After working in a number of prestigious kitchens, you itched for the opportunity to build something of your own, something homey that you could be proud of. This position is exactly the kind of project you hoped for.

You step into the building, the interior clearly unfinished, but with good structure to it - high vaulted ceilings, good natural lighting, and two levels. Three, if you count the brewery on the floor below you to the left, where you could see the tops of large brewing fermentation vessels.

“Hello?” you call out into the barebones building, looking around for signs of life.

“I’ll be there in a jiffy!” you hear from someone below you, presumably Jack. In a moment, you see him emerge from the staircase leading to the brewing area, and you feel your breath catch in your throat.

Holy hell, you didn’t know he was THIS hot.

Walking towards you was easily one of the most handsome men you’ve ever set eyes on. Tall, incredibly broad-shouldered, and golden-skinned, Jack sauntered up to you wearing a white t-shirt stretched across his chest, dark jeans, black Wellingtons, and a belt with - is that a whiskey flask buckle?

“Rán, I assume?” Jack broke into a wide smile, offering up his hand. You shook it firmly, reveling in the warmth of Jack’s hand and how it dwarfed yours. Keeping your eyes locked to Jack’s amber ones, you returned his smile and nodded.

“It’s so nice to meet you in person, Jack,” you said, taking another glance around the interior. “The place has good bones.”

“That is does,” Jack responds, looking around as well. “I have high hopes for this place. And you seemed like the perfect person to hook up with to get it done.”

Your eyes bug out for a moment before you can school your face, but the heat starts creeping up your neck anyway. I’m sure he didn’t mean it that way…

“Oh, hell,” Jack sputters, “That’s not what I meant! I… dagnabbit, I’m already blowing it…” He runs his hand through his dark brown waves, thoroughly embarrassed. “I meant to partner with. On this business venture.” Jack looked at you, face flushed, eyes pleading. You couldn’t help but let out the giggles coming from your chest.

“Hardly blown, but maybe we can have some of that beer you promised me and start over?” you suggest, tilting your head towards the brewery. Jack looked relieved and nodded in agreement.

“Follow me, darlin’, and I’ll take you to my mad scientist lab,” he says as he motions towards the staircase. Following his broad frame (good god, those shoulders are so wide) down the steps, you emerge in the brewery, the heart of the business. Gleaming stainless steel fermentation tanks tower above, the immaculate floor wet, looking recently sanitized. The smell of malted barley and herbaceous hops permeates the air, and the brewery area is compact yet efficient. Everything looks perfectly kempt, a testament to how much Jack cares about his beer. On a wall hook near the entrance hung a black leather jacket and a black Stetson cowboy hat. You notice a small farmhouse table set up nearby the office area with two glasses set atop.

He set this up just for us?

Your eyes meet Jack’s, your mouth a bit ajar, and he smirks, pulling out a chair for you like a real southern gentleman. “Think I wouldn’t pull out all the stops for my hopefully-soon-to-be business partner?” You sit, and he walks to the carbonation room to fetch his brew of choice. Returning with the deep brown glass growler, Jack raises it towards you in offering. You nod, pushing your glass closer and he pours the liquid within out. A pale golden beer flows into your glass, creamy foam gathering on the surface. He pours himself some, then sits down at the other end of the table.

“This is somethin’ I’ve been workin’ on for the grand openin’,” he explains, motioning to the beer. “It’s a farmhouse ale, what’s usually referred to as a saison. I’m callin’ it Ocean’s Gold. I want it to be the flagship brew. Please, try it and let me know what you think.” Your eyes flick to the glasses, and then with a small smile, you bring it up to your lips and drink. The beer is full-bodied, malty but light, with citrus and peppery notes dancing across your tongue. The finish is dry, resulting in a beer that’s incredibly drinkable and refreshing.

“Holy cow, Jack,” you breathe out, astounded at his skills. “That’s so delicious. You’re one hell of a brewmaster.”

Jack chuckles, grinning warmly. “Why thank you, sugar,” he croons, making the heat rise up the back of your neck again. Damn those Southern nicknames, you think to yourself, willing your nerves to calm. “Hopefully I’m as good of a brewer as you are a chef. I’ve been askin’ around, and word on the street is that you’re one of the best and hardest working chefs people have worked with.”

“Well, that’s high praise,” you reply, “but I’m glad to hear it. I pride myself on my work ethic and food is my first love, as it seems like brewing is for you. What sort of place do you want the brewpub to be?”

Jack contemplates his answer. You see his face get more serious, but nothing but passion shines from his eyes when they lift to yours. “First and foremost, aside from serving up the best beer this side of the Rockies, I want this place to be ingrained in the community.” You sip your beer as Jack continues. “This place has given me so much, and I want to give back. I want a place where everyone feels welcome, ya know? Whether they want to share a pint with a friend, get a bite to eat with loved ones, or meet new people who share their love of good food and beer, I want them to feel at home.”

A wistful look passes over Jack’s face, and he pauses to meet your eyes again. “Now, I don’t wanna overload you with too many details, but this part is pretty important to me, and I wanna make sure that whatever business partner I end up with is on the same page.” You nod, encouraging him to continue. “Now, when I was growing up, my family didn’t have the most to live on. A lot of times we went hungry, and it was only through the kindness of strangers that we got to eat then. I have this idea for a ‘pay it forward’ type meal program. Folks can come in, pay $5, $10 for a prepaid meal ticket. We’d put those paid vouchers up somewhere and if someone is hungry and doesn’t have the money to pay, they can take one of those vouchers and we’d give ‘em a hearty meal, free of charge.”

Jack takes a breath and closes his eyes for a moment, then looks back over at you. You can feel your heart ache for this man who clearly had to work hard to be where he’s at, now wanting to share his wealth with those less fortunate than him. You try to swallow the lump in your throat.

“Jack, that’s… incredible,” you finally get out. This degree of selflessness wasn’t common in business owners in the circles you existed in. “I’d be honored to help you make that dream a reality.”

“Is that you sayin’ you’ll saddle up with me, sugar?” Jack looks at you with hope in his eyes. Your heart leaps, and you try to calm it down as you nod affirmatively. This is a business deal, your brain warns your heart. It beats fast anyway.

“Well I’ll be damned,” Jack beams, excitement rippling off his body. “Can’t wait to build this place up together.”

You grab the growler and fill your and Jack’s glasses, raising yours to his. “Cheers to a fruitful new partnership.” Your smile reflects Jack’s, and you both drink up.

The next 9 months are a whirlwind of activity. After your official business documents were drawn up and signed, you and Jack worked night and day to get the brewpub ready for the following summer. You designed the interior, fitting the place with warm dark wood and brassy golden fixtures. Chic firepits dotted the outdoor patio in the back. You included subtle oceanic iconography wherever you could – the sea was a huge inspiration for the both of you. Jack worked tirelessly on a signature lineup of beer, as well as a couple of seasonal offerings to add variety. Meanwhile, you toiled in the kitchen, experimenting with flavor profiles and dishes until you’d perfected your menu. You laughed and joked as you worked together, getting to know each other’s backstories as well as each other’s preferred workstyles. You talked and dreamed, debated and sometimes argued - after all, both of you were stubborn - but always worked things out. You kept him on his toes, and he kept you grounded.

Oftentimes, you and Jack used each other as taste testers, knowing the both of you would give honest feedback. On one particular evening in the late winter, you were sitting at the half-finished bar, sipping on a trial seasonal amber ale that Jack fermented in whiskey barrels.

“I never asked you where you got your name from, darlin’,” Jack mused, taking a gulp of his beer afterwards. “It’s quite unusual.”

“Ahh yes,” you responded, a smirk turning up your lips. “That would be thanks to my literary professor grandmother. She specialized in studying mythology texts from around the globe. Rán is the Norse sea goddess of death.” You saw Jack’s eyebrows twitch upwards in surprise, and you chuckled a bit before continuing. “That sounds intense, but she is also seen as the caretaker of those who die at sea. She helps care for them until they are ready to move on to the next realm. My grandmother wanted me to be tough, suffer no fools, but to also be kind and care for those that need it.”

Jack huffs in amusement. “Sounds just like you. She did a good job with that name.”

You smile, swirling your glass in thought. You look up at him, but his warm chocolate eyes are already on you, a flicker of something in them that makes your heart skip a beat.

“Jack?” you start. “There’s something I wanted to ask you about the ‘giving back’ part of the business.” You take a deep breath, your true passion project in your mind. “A long time ago, when I was much younger and just starting my culinary journey, I worked at an assisted living home, specifically for those with Alzheimer’s disease. It paid terribly, but I got a lot of experience in preparing food in a foodservice setting. It also deeply affected me. You don’t realize how important food is to people. Sometimes family members would ask if we could put something special on the menu, a dish their loved one used to make or loved to eat, to see if they would remember. We wouldn’t make any promises, but I’d always remember which request was from which family. When we were able to accommodate those requests, I’d see these people whose minds… for lack of a better term, seemed to be proverbially lost at sea… but they took one bite of their favorite food, and their whole face lit up. Sometimes it was simply enjoying the food, but other times it would trigger fond memories.”

Your eyes began to water, and Jack reached across the table and grabbed your hand, gently stroking his thumb across the top. You swallowed, continuing. “I hated that I had to leave that place, but my career wouldn’t go anywhere if I didn’t, and the money wasn’t nearly enough to pay the bills. I always thought, if I was in a place where I could give back, I would love to donate my time and supplies to cook for people like that again.” You look into Jack’s eyes, a swirl of emotions in yours. “Do you think… we could maybe do that with the brewpub? Take a day off every month or so to cook for an Alzheimer’s assisted living home?”

Jack squeezed your hand. “Of course, sugar. It means a lot to you, and it’s helpin’ the community. I couldn’t think of a more worthy cause.”

A tear slipped down your face as you smiled and mouthed “thank you” at him. But your breath caught in your throat when Jack reached up to tenderly wipe away the tear from your cheek. You stare at each other, a charge running through the air.

Kiss him, your heart whispers.

But instead, you clear your throat, squeeze his hand and throw on a grin. “I’d love some more of that ale if you got any more.”

Jack smiles softly. “For you? No charge.” You both giggle as he goes to grab another pint for you.

He’s just a business partner, your brain reminds you. But he’s become more than that, you realize.

A friend. A partner in dreams.

Maybe more, says your heart.

A few months later, the brewpub is bustling.

With the support of some of your industry friends - and your and Jack’s hard work - The Gilded Wave opens with a bang. Business is booming; the restaurant is constantly busy, and Jack is so swamped with the microbrewery that he had to hire two additional assistant brewmasters to keep up with demand. You are speaking to your front-of-house manager when two very familiar faces burst through the front door.

Your face lights up. “Pero! Ez! What are you guys doing here?” you exclaim as they wrap you up in a bear hug. You squeal as they lift you into the air with ease.

“We heard through the ever-whisperin’ grapevine that our sweet Birdie built her very own nest and we just had to come see for ourselves,” Ezra drawls, his characteristically charismatic smirk alighting his face while he takes in the brewpub. “What a perfectly festooned establishment you got here! I sure do hope the fine provisions match the opulence of the aesthetics!”

You shake your head, giggling at Ezra’s always-fanciful dialogue, as Pero rolls his eyes at his companion. “It’s lovely to see you, hermosa,” he rumbles, kissing your cheek.

“I missed you both so much! Wanna sit at the bar and I can set you two up with some beer & food?” you offer.

“That would be fabulous, Birdie!” Ezra exclaims, clapping his hands together. “I am in need of libations like an earthworm in the midday sun.” The two men plunk themselves down at the bar, and you turn to your bartender.

“Eddie, do you mind sending in an order of garlic fries and crispy artichoke hearts for these two gentlemen?” Eddie nods and starts punching in the order in the system. Out of the corner of your eye, you spot Jack coming up from the brewery stairs, wiping his brow after checking on the brewing. “Jack! Come meet some friends.”

Jack grins, loping up the rest of the stairs. He swaggers up to the bar, looking at you expectantly.

“Jack, this is Ezra and Pero. We worked together in a bunch of restaurants over the last few years.” Jack smiles widely, shaking the hand of each man and exchanging greetings.

“Guys,” you say, “this is my business partner Jack. He’s the brilliant brewmaster keeping this place busy.”

“Aww, shucks, sugar,” Jack guffaws, “this place ain’t what it is without your excellent food. Only so long a man can survive on beer before he needs to eat. And what an incredible menu it is!”

You feel your cheeks heat with the compliment. “Jeez, don’t make me soft in front of these two. I’ll never hear the end of it!” You punch Jack in the shoulder playfully, and your friends snort.

“Rán? Soft? No way, only if she really likes you,” Pero gruffs with a laugh. “She used to make grown men cry when they’d try to start shit with her.”

You turned to Jack with a smirk. “I told you I suffer no fools.”

Jack puts his hands in the air playfully in mock surrender. “Remind me never to get on your bad side.” He turns to Pero and Ezra. “Would you two like to act as my beer guinea pigs for a moment? I have a new winter ale that I’m looking to perfect before the season hits us.” Your friends nod in agreement and thanks, and Jack turns to the bar, pouring from an unmarked tap that he keeps just for his trial brews. He slides the taster glasses to Ezra and Pero, and your friends sip in contemplation.

Ezra immediately starts speaking, as per usual. “Why, Jack, that is one of the finest ales I’ve ever had in my many turns around this here planet! The spice notes, they’re so unique! Is that coriander and ginger I’m picking up?” He sips again before Jack can speak. “Maybe some citrus?”

“Mighty fine palette you have there,” Jack responds. “It’s a white ale I’ve spiked with coriander, ginger, and orange peel. Gives that warm holiday feeling.”

Pero nods, eyebrows raised. “Now that, amigo, is a good beer.” He raises his taster in salute, then downs the rest.

You giggle and slap his hand. “Tovar! You’re supposed to savor it!” Pero only shrugs.

“It’s quite alright,” Jack chuckles. “They can each have a full pint with all the compliments they’ve lathered me up with.” You roll your eyes at your friends, and rub Jack’s shoulder in a “thank you” gesture. Pero clocks the move, and raises his eyebrows in question. You silently beg him to not ask anything.

Jack places two pints of the white ale in front of the men. “Well, fellas, thanks for coming in. I have to go back down to the beer lab now that I know this winter recipe is locked in. It’s been great meeting the two of you, and I hope to see y’all around again!”

Pero and Ezra bade farewell to Jack, who disappeared back down the stairs just as the fries and artichokes arrived to the two of them. Both men dig in, nearly moaning in pleasure at the food.

“Birdie, this is incredible,” Ezra exclaims, dunking a fried artichoke into the aioli. Pero nods in agreement.

“Thanks, guys,” you coo, pleased that two of your longest friends approved of your menu. The three of you are silent for a moment, a rare occurrence when around Ezra.

“So what’s with you and Jack?” Pero asks bluntly. You nearly choke on the garlic fry you swiped from the basket. Ezra giggles into the artichokes.

“Nothing is going on,” you stammer, coughing slightly. “He’s my business partner.”

“Hermosa, I know you well, and you’ve never rubbed my shoulder like that,” Pero levels.

“I will say,” adds Ezra, “I could detect a certain… aura around you when Jack came upstairs. I have also never experienced that around you.”

“Guys, we are business partners,” you assert. “We just got close ‘cause of how intertwined our work is.”

“Yeah, I’m sure there was some intertwining happening…” Pero mutters, and you slap him upside the head. Ezra titters uncontrollably.

“Alright, Birdie,” Ezra relents, “we’ll leave you alone about handsome Mr. Jack for now. But his winter ale did alight some thoughts in my head about a certain gathering…”

You groan. “Ez… we just opened up not that long ago. I can’t in good conscience ask Jack to let our ragtag group of friends take over the brewpub for our yearly winter debauchery.”

“But what if we profusely pledge to be on our most upstanding deportment?” Ezra begs, batting his eyelashes comically while putting on his best puppy face.

Pero snorts. “Fat chance at that. But I do like the idea.” He turns to you, raising an eyebrow.

You stare at them for a few moments more, and then your resolve crumbles. “Alright, you two hooligans, I’ll ask. But NO promises, okay?” Ezra cheers and wraps you in a tight hug, while Pero gruffs in agreement and stuffs a handful of fries in his mouth.

Surprisingly (or not so surprisingly, as he is so sweet and accommodating), Jack is enthusiastic about hosting your friend group’s annual winter party, saying how excited he was to meet your friends. You and Ezra planned for weeks, and Pero came through to help you and Jack decorate the place. The warm wood is hung with pine and holly garlands, twinkling string lights criss-cross along the walls and ceilings, and pine cones are tucked into various corners of the space. A yule tree sparkled in an alcove, decorated in red, green, and gold. And you made sure to pin up a few sprigs of mistletoe, one of your favorite traditions of the season. Back at your apartment, you slip on a sumptuous golden silk dress that clings in all the right places and flows beautifully to show off your figure, and strap on matching gold heels. Swiping on the same crimson lipstick you wore when you met Jack as a finishing touch, you smooth your outfit and walk back to the pub.

Soon enough, your friends began to pour into the space, bringing with them various foods and drinks. Jack made a special batch of wassail for the occasion, and Ezra dramatically waxes poetic about how good it is while Pero rolls his eyes at him, as usual, in the corner. The space fills with laughter, clinking glasses, and the smell of delicious food. You and Jack act as the gracious hosts, making sure no one’s glasses are empty and all the plates are full. As you’d hoped and prayed, Jack gets along amazingly well with every single one of your friends. He jokes and roasts; listens intently and carefully to people’s stories. He extends a warmth and familiarity to all, and more than once you get nudged suggestively, eyebrows wiggling and giggles whispered into your ear about how wonderfully well you and Jack work together. You flush with heat every time, and it’s hard to deny the chemistry between the two of you. Beyond being fantastic business partners, you admire Jack’s adeptness, his dogged cleverness, and most of all, his heart. Jack’s got one of the biggest hearts you’ve ever come across.

And, even if you fight it, you realize that Jack’s worked his way into your heart, too. All night you’ve been exchanging charged glances, sly smiles, little winks here and there. Jack places a warm hand on the small of your back while passing you. You press your body subconsciously against his while reaching for another glass. Fingertips brush, sparks fly.

By the time your friends trickle out into the night, merry and full, the heat between the two of you is palpable.

You’re cleaning up the bar area when Jack approaches you, two glasses of wassail in his hands. “Outstanding shindig you threw, darlin’,” he observes, passing you a glass. You clink your cup against his and take a sip, savoring the way the ale, sweet honey, and spices swirl across your tongue.

“We threw the party, Jack,” you correct. “You were just as good of a host as me, if not better.”

Jack smirks. “Well, it’s easy when you have such fun friends.”

“They are fun for sure, although I was worried they’d be a bit… much,” you admit.

“Pfft, I’m used to dealing with strong personalities,” he scoffs, nudging you pointedly. You roll your eyes but your grin remains, and you scoot closer to him, pressing the side of your body against his. You both lean against the bar, facing the interior of the brewpub, admiring where your hard work has taken you.

“Can you believe this place is real?” you muse, sipping again. Your eyes roam the space above you, when you stop and smile to yourself.

“Yes, I remember you waltzing into this place when it was nothing but concrete and pipes and my brewing equipment, a pretty thing with red lips and determination,” Jack reminisces, ignorant of what you’ve spotted.

Your heart skips a beat. Pretty.

“Oh yeah, cowboy? ‘A pretty thing’?” you purr, turning slightly to face him, your red lips pursed in amusement. Jack looks slightly hesitant, worried he crossed a line, until you point upwards and his eyes follow.

A sparkling sprig of mistletoe hangs between the two of you, above your heads. He meets your eyes again, all hesitation gone.

“Are you gonna just stare, or are you gonna respect tradition and kiss this ‘pretty thing’?” you whisper, your lips curled flirtatiously.

A smirk spreads across Jack’s face. “I thought you’d never ask, sugar.” And with that, he pulls you into his body and your lips connect.

It’s a slow, sensual kiss when it starts. Jack is gentle, all brushes of the lips, presses and caresses of your body. You lean into him, feeling your nipples press against his dark button up while he cups the back of your head tenderly. A small whimper escapes your lips, and Jack pulls back with concern.

“Is this still okay?” he murmurs, rubbing your cheeks with his thumbs. You don’t answer with words, you just nod and pull him into another kiss, gently biting his plush lower lip. Jack moans gruffly, sliding his hands down the lines of your body, pausing to cup and squeeze your silk-covered ass. You feel wetness start to gather at your entrance, your arousal rocketing by the second as your kisses get more and more impassioned. Jack trails wet kisses down your neck, licking at your pulse point and right behind your ear, ripping another whimper from your chest.

“Sugar, I need to taste you so badly,” Jack groans into the junction of your neck and shoulder, biting softly.

“Please, Jack,” you breathe out, and Jack lifts you onto the bar counter, rucking your dress up. You spread your legs, helping to pull the golden silk out of the way. Jack pauses, then another smirk blooms on his lips; he takes his black Stetson off his head and places it onto yours in a quiet act of possession. You pant while you watch Jack pull up a barstool in front of you. Seating himself, he spreads you even wider, his eyes glittering with desire when he sets his eyes on your glistening center. You didn’t wear any panties, and he groans at the realization.

“Fuck, you’re prettier than a picture, honey,” he rumbles, tracing his large warm hands up your inner thighs, triggering more slick to seep out of you. Using his thumb, Jack spreads your wetness around your folds, and you inhale sharply, whimpering again. When Jack spies the pearl of your clit, he runs his thumb across it slowly, encouraging it to harden.

“So fucking pretty,” Jack murmurs to himself, thumbing your clit again and reveling in the twitch of your thighs as he does. He leans down and runs the flat of his tongue across your entire pussy, from bottom to top, swirling around your clit deliciously slowly. Wanton moans snake their way from your throat. You grip Jack’s hair, keeping his face pressed against your most intimate parts. He groans into your folds, devouring you like a man starved, as you whine and whimper and shake for him. He’s observant, noticing when your body twitches and your cries pitch higher, using that information to bring you to the simmering cusp of your orgasm.

“Come for me, darlin’,” Jack pleads, slicking up two fingers and sliding them inside you, your pussy gripping him tightly. You throw your head back, legs shaking from the intensity, when he reaches a spot deep in you.

With a few more pressured strokes of his fingers and a gentle suck of his mouth on your clit, you shatter around him, cunt clenching and dripping onto his fingers.

“That’s it, such a good girl coming for me when I ask,” Jack coos, his fingers continuing to work you through your orgasm, squelching from your release. Your moans are music to his ears, rapidly hardening his cock. Once you recover a bit, Jack slips his fingers into his mouth right before your eyes, growling quietly at the taste.

“Sweeter than honey,” he grits out, swooping in for a kiss, your own taste lingering on his lips and making you moan yet again.

“Jack, I need you inside me,” you beg between fevered kisses. Jack pulls away to meet your eyes.

“I don’t want to fuck you here,” he explains. “Can we go to your place? I want to lay you out, fuck you proper like you deserve.”

“Yes, of course,” you breathe, and he slaps your ass lightly before helping you off of the counter. You giggle, wobbling slightly in the aftermath of your pleasure. Jack helps right you and wraps a steadying arm around your shoulders while the two of you walk the three blocks to your apartment.

As soon as you enter the door, Jack is on you again, grinding his clothed cock into you and kissing you deeply. You walk the two of you backwards to your bedroom, clothing and shoes coming off between lips locking and hands groping, exploring. Both naked, you climb onto your bed, Jack following. Your legs fall open, and Jack can’t help himself from lunging forward to lick at your drenched pussy at the first sight of your slick lips parting. A whine hitches from your lungs, and Jack pulls back, shifting up to kiss you deeply again. Tongues tangle, lips are bitten, breathless moans exchanged. He pulls back again as you chase his lips, but he stops you.

“Hold your horses, sweetheart. Are you sure you want to do this?” he asks, eyes shining with both hope and concern. “I don’t want you to move faster than you’re ready for.”

Your heart clenches at the display of care and consent. A smile lights your face as you respond, “Yes. I’ve been wanting this for ages… I was just too scared to be wrong about you feeling the same way for me and ruining an amazing business partnership. I’ve been dreaming of you in my bed for months, and now that I have you here, I’m not going to let you get away so fast.”

Jack’s eyes light up, and he presses a soft kiss to your forehead before getting off the bed. He rummages through his pants briefly until he pulls a gold foil square from his wallet.

“I’ve got a golden ticket here for you, darlin’, but I want you to know that I get tested regularly and that I’m clean,” Jack informs you, a smile warming his face when you giggle at his corny joke. “Is that okay with you?” He climbs back onto the bed, leaning down to kiss your belly.

You nod affirmatively. “So do I, and I’m on the pill.” Sitting up and holding your hand out for the condom, you ask, “May I?”

Jack hands you the packet. “Be my guest, angel.” You lean forward, pressing your lips once again into his, and he groans in surprise as you flip him onto his back in one fluid motion. Climbing up his legs, you push them apart to make room for yourself in between. His impressive cock is achingly hard, viscous droplets of precum bubbling at the tip. You lap them up eagerly, Jack’s head falling onto your pillows with a muffled thump and a whine of pleasure.

“Fuck, your mouth feels so good,” Jack breathes. You suckle at the head, humming in pleasure as the salty-bitter taste floods your senses. Slowly, you begin bobbing up and down his shaft, swirling your tongue across his silky length, making his moans louder and more ragged as you go. After a couple of minutes and an intense suck later, Jack actually whimpers into the thick air of your bedroom, begging you for more. You tear open the foil packet carefully, then suck his cockhead one more time before settling the condom on top and gingerly rolling it down his thick cock.

You rise to your knees and shuffle upwards, leaning down one more time to kiss him. With your lips locked, Jack presses you back a bit and scooches his body up to sit against the headboard. You settle into his lap and slide yourself down his cock slowly.

The stretch is exquisite. Both of you moan in sync, your hands planted on his tan chest, his hands coming up to grip your hips to keep himself tethered to the moment. You feel as if every empty space in your body is filled; he fits perfectly inside you, like he was meant to be there.

He feels like coming home.

Once he’s bottomed out inside of you, you both take a moment to breathe and be present. Jack’s eyes are closed, forehead resting against yours, breathing each other’s air. His hands slowly and gently knead your hips while you adjust to his thickness stretching your walls deliciously. Bringing one of your hands to his face, you admire his blissed but tense countenance. It seems like the both of you are barely keeping it together; your pussy throbs against his cock, which twitches in response. Your breathing is heavier. And so is the tension and desire.

You kiss Jack’s lips softly, tracing your thumb down the line of his jaw, and his eyes flutter open, utterly melting when they focus on you. “Baby,” you murmur, “can I ride you now?” A groan claws out of Jack’s mouth, and his lips part as he nods his head affirmatively.

“Please,” he begs, and fucks up gently into you. Your center clenches in response, and you begin to work yourself on his shaft, rolling your hips as you grind down and back up. The sensation is intense, intimate, and all-consuming.

You clutch at Jack’s well-muscled shoulders, pressing kisses wherever you can reach and nipping his neck. His groans deepen and lengthen, his cock swelling even harder with the feeling of being buried inside you, surrounded by hot velvet. Hands gripping harder, he thrusts back up into you each time you slide down, punching into a spot deep inside you that makes you see stars. Dizzying ecstasy lights up your veins as your moans and whines pitch higher with your arousal. The slick, obscene squelching of your pussy only serves to intensify the experience for the both of you.

“Oh god, sweetheart, you’re so fucking wet and tight for me,” Jack slurs, lost in his reverence of you. “Could never get enough of you.” All you can respond with is a devout chant of his name, moaned and sighed and whimpered. He reaches down and slicks his thumb with your juices, swirling it gently around your clit. You keen sharply.

“Jack,” you moan, “don’t stop, you’re getting me there.” Jack hushes you as he works your pearl firmer.

“C’mon, sugar, I wanna feel you come all over my cock,” he encourages urgently, massaging that spot deep in your pussy while he swirls, swirls, swirls with his thumb. Your whines sharpen, your body beginning to shake.

“Oh fuck, Jack, you’re gonna make me come,” you yelp desperately, your pussy contracting and squeezing his cock tightly. Jack digs his fingers harder into the meat of your hips, trying to stave off his own orgasm, as he continues his ministrations.

He leans forward, sucking and kissing your neck, up to your ear, and licking the spot right behind it gently before murmuring, “Come for me, beautiful.”

You shatter.

Flames lick along every nerve ending, and you shove Jack as deeply into you as possible when your high hits you. Wailing his name, you grip his hair, your cunt gushing and contracting against his length, and that’s enough to push Jack over the edge with you, your name tumbling off his lips in a whimper as he buries himself deep and empties his seed into the condom.

Waves crashing together, the wheel of fate bringing you two to each other. He is meant for you, and you for him.

You both come back into your bodies, breathing heavily with your faces nuzzled against each other. Jack kisses your lips gently, and you part them to allow a deeper kiss to blossom. Slowly, languidly, your tongues dance, lips press and pull. With the tiniest peck, the two of you separate, and Jack brings his hands to cup your face gently, fingertips stroking your soft skin. His eyes shine like the sea on a sunny day, and you see golden flecks catch the light from your bedside lamp.

“You’re so perfect,” he murmurs, mesmerized.

You huff a laugh. “Hardly,” you reply, “but I feel like we’re perfect for each other, no?” Jack nods.

“Perfectly suited for each other,” he agrees. “You are my fire, and I am your ocean. You motivate me to push myself and our business further, and keep my passions burning.”

“And you go with the flow, move with the tides, helping me get through rough waters,” you mutter sweetly at him, kissing his strong, aquiline nose. You both sit and absorb each other’s presence, soaking in the new stage of your relationship.

“Where do we go from here?” you whisper to Jack. Your lover, your confidante, your partner in business - and now, in life.

“I don’t quite know what our future holds, sugar,” Jack responds, kissing your forehead, “but where your heart is, there I will be also.”

a/n part 2: Thank you for reading! Below I've included the brief that Erin wrote about Ægir, as well as some details/inspo from the fic. Disclaimer: I am not inherently familiar with Norse mythology or traditions, so apologies if there's anything that is off-base!

-- Beers are inspired by Allagash Brewing's saison and seasonal Ski House Wheat.

-- The winter holiday party decorations are inspired by traditional Norse decorations for Yule.

-- The "wheel of fate" and the last line Jack says are a nod to traditional Norse wedding vows.

-- For Erin's Frith Challenge, Thor was assigned to Pero Tovar, and Tyr was assigned to Ezra.

God: Ægir Character: Jack Daniels / Agent Whiskey

God of the sea and brewing ale. A Jotun (which translates to “devour” or “consume”, despite being connected to “giant” more often), suggesting that he would devour or consume the ships that would sink into the sea, and his wife, Rán (the death goddess of the sea), would consume the men upon the ships.

“The brother of air and fire”. Father of 9 daughters, who themselves are the waves. Not only represents the sea, but also personifies it. Symbolizes the strength and power of the ocean, so many view him as a great warrior.

Framed as a terrible and devouring Jotun, he’s also a welcoming host. It’s said that Thor and Tyr would visit to have some of Ægir’s ale, and every winter, the gods would come to feast in his hall. This makes him a great match for Rán, the caretaker of those who died at sea, as his hospitality would be extended to them through Rán. This could be seen one of two ways: that either the dead would reside in their hall, or that they would rest there until they were ready to move on.

The sea was seen as a source of great wealth, since sailors would find treasure through industry, trade or plunder. Gold itself was referred to as “Ægir’s Fire”, because he “lights his hall with gold in his hearth”. He’s wealthy, but he shares that wealth as he entertains his guests.

However, he sort of wanted to get out of being the gods’ host. He said he’d do it on the condition that they find a big enough cauldron to account for the amount of ale he’d have to make, since the gods liked to party so much.

To follow Ægir is to be hospitable to those who enter your hold seeking comfort.

Offerings: Ocean/water iconography. Gold. Fire/flames. Ale/alcohol.

Tags for those who may be interested: @mountainsandmayhem @alltheirdamn @sin-djarin @nerdieforpedro @mermaidgirl30 @missredherring @morallyinept @qveerthe0ry @guiltyasdave @almostfoxglove @almostempty @schnarfer @kedsandtubesocks @djarinmuse @agentmarcuspike @gasolinerainbowpuddles @yopossum

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfiction #jack daniels #frith challenge #agent whiskey #kingsmen the golden circle #offering of frith #pedro pascal cinematic universe #kingsman #kingsmen golden circle

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