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horseshoegirl · 2 years ago

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Damn Those Dog Tags: Part 21 - My Fair Lady

📜 Merry Christmas, you filthy animals! 😏😂

❗️+18, strong language, godmother reader/original female character, mentions of an original child character, reunions, sexual themes (I mean smut, so get out of here if you ain't +18, I mean it!!!), they finally do it! (first times, nakedness, sex, all that jazz --> So yes, that is a spoiler!).

#10k words (this one is long, and I'm not apologizing for it, LOL)

Part 20 | Masterlist | Part 22

With Sadie away at camp, you finally got the time and the opportunity to surprise her and redo your guest room into her room.

The house was a mess. Boxes of new furniture waiting to be built: a desk, a bookcase, a new bedframe. Her mattress slanted against the hallway. Old white sheets covered every inch of the floor and things that could not be moved.

You'd taken the shade off one of the bedside table lamps and stuck it in the corner of the room, its soft, warm light guiding you as you stood on a ladder, carefully stroking a painter's brush covered in green paint just below the edge of the ceiling, balancing the paint bucket on the top step.

The problem you had with projects like these was that you didn't really know when to stop. Staring when it was still light out, nothing but music playing softly through the speakers from your vinyl player, it was well past 2 AM before you knew it.

At least this passion project was one of the few things keeping you from obsessively worrying about Jake. And Bradley.

The static noise popping through your speakers was a welcome relief for your neck. With one last paint stroke, you climbed down the ladder, picturing your records and what one you could put on next. You bit your lip, reaching up to grab the bucket and the lid from the top step, covering it and hitting it closed with a thump.

You knelt next to the crate, searching for the record you had in mind when a persistent knock at your front door startled you. You weren't expecting anyone, let alone in the witching hours of the early morning.

Everything that happened with Tyler left you weary. Every white car you passed on the street made your skin crawl, and when Penny finally re-opened the Hard Deck and you returned to work, each time the door swung open in a dramatic fashion, you half expected to see Tyler standing there, a predatory glare in his eyes.

People also had a habit of knocking on your door late at night to deliver bad news. But something told you you needed to answer it anyway.

You slowly tip-toed down your hallway, plastering yourself to the wall, hoping to stay out of sight of whoever knocked on your door before peering through the peephole. Shocked to see the person pacing back and forth along your front porch, you whipped the door open.

"Alyssa?"

She stopped pacing, twisting her body towards the sound of your voice.

As long as you knew her, Lyssa had never once cried in front of you or came close to being visibly upset. She was direct, used humour in the most inappropriate moments, and always played things close to the chest. To see her face, beat red and tears streaming down her face, you couldn't help your unease.

Something had to be seriously wrong.

"Is Will okay?" you asked her. "What's' wrong?"

She shook her head, stepping in front of you. "Um, no, he's okay. We need to get down to Top Gun. Now."

"Top Gun? It's almost three in the morning."

She shook her head again. "Will's father got word an aircraft carrier got caught in a hurricane somewhere overseas. It sunk. They're bringing in the survivors now."

Heart dropping into your stomach, your legs wobbled. You fell against your door frame, hands gripping the wood tight enough to hurt. Your throat was screaming at you, and you couldn't swallow.

There was only one other time you could compare to how you were feeling now.

Friday nights were the worst fucking days of your life.

"Please don't tell me..." you croaked. "Please don't tell me it was theirs."

You gripped Jake's dog tags tight as you caught her harsh gulp, her face remaining stark. She didn't say anything. Not that she needed to. The very fact she was on your doorstep told you everything you needed to know.

She wouldn't have come to get you otherwise.

"Come on, we need to go," she managed to say through a harsh swallow.

You don't know how you managed to loosen your grip on your door frame or how you laced your shoes without screwing up the knots. Or how you got your key in the lock with your shakey hand.

You don't know how you got into the passenger seat of Alyssa's car, either. Or how you managed to put your seat belt on or not throw up as she sped out of your driveway and down to the highway.

A small part of you whithers when you realize you wouldn't have known, wouldn't have been here, hadn't Alyssa's Ex caught wind of it. Nat, Bob, and the rest of the daggers would have, too, eventually, but they probably wouldn't have been informed until it was too late.

You don't even know what's waiting for you at Top Gun, whether both Jake and Bradley were or weren't there. Or only one of them. Or if they would even let you in.

The gates were open to the facility when the two of you arrived. Lyssa followed several cars that were already pulling into the winding entrance, the line starting to build as more and more started to appear from the opposite direction. You leaned forward in your seat as she pulled into the parking lot, your heart in your throat as you tried to see behind the building to the runway. All you saw were blinking red and white lights against the night sky.

Alyssa hadn't even moved the parking brake when you threw yourself out of her car, not bothering to wait for her. The cool night wind bit at your face as you searched the building, looking for any indication they were letting people in. You spied a group of people charging across the parking lot to an open side door, someone in dress kaki's manning it. You followed them, skidding across the pavement as you reached the door, trying not to run anyone over and barrel through the crowd.

Cyclone saw you before you saw him, shouting out your full name amongst the chaos to urge you to the front to let you in with the next group. The words spill out of your mouth before you realize you're saying them. "Do you know if...?"

He shook his head. "If they did, they'll be on the next plane that came in."

A million thoughts skitter through your mind, like spiders across a floor, yet you push them aside.

"I have a friend, Lyssa. Let her in next."

He nodded without complaint, knocking hard on the door to let the group in.

Whether it was the threat of being yelled at for running or that they were inside the famous Navy facility, nobody moved quicker than a brisque walk.

You'd take on any military officer who would dare yell at you for the way you tried to weave in and out of the throngs of people.

The hallway you were guided down led to a hanger. The space had been turned into a temporary relief centre, with tables, cots, and supplies filling every inch. Medics were already helping a few of the officers who looked worse for wear, and dread filled you each time you spun, another injured officer upon another.

You weren't sure you were relieved or scared with each face you saw. Whatever they had to go through to get here, one thing was for certain. They had to do so in a rush.

You halted when you spotted the large military-like plane Cyclone spoke about sitting on the runway in the distance, viewable from the wide open door. Whether it had been there before or it had just arrived, you didn't know. Nor did you question it any further. The only thing that mattered was if Jake and Bradley were on that plane.

But with each group of people that passed, there was no sign of them.

Alyssa finally caught up to you, grabbing your arms from behind and tugging you backwards. "Liz," she started to say, but you tore out of her grasp.

"We didn't have time. We didn't have time," you said repeatedly, threading your fingers through your hair next to your temples. Alyssa reached out again, this time turning you by your raised elbows as you continued to force yourself to breathe. She pushed, and you slowly lost your hold on your roots, lowering your arms until she was grasping at your hands.

"I didn't want to tell him I loved him over a letter. I didn't want our last words to each other to be over a piece of paper," you cried out, trying to tug away. She didn't let go, her grip tight. It made you sob harder.

"I can't go through this again! Not with them, not with him. Not after everything Sadie and I have ever suffered through. It's too much, Alyssa!" you were on the verge of screaming. "We've been through enough!"

Lyssa opened her mouth, words just barely sounding out before her eyes locked on to something behind you. She gasped, and you twisted sharply, watery eyes searching a new crowd of officers making their way off the tarmac and into the hanger. You squinted your eyes, the night sky and the bright white lights from inside making it harder to make out faces.

A cluster of Navy officers broke off from the crowd, parting the way.

Then you saw them.

Both of them.

Jake was favouring a leg as he leaned against Bradley for support, hobbling along as they finally reached the entrance to the hanger, searching for a temporary cot. Even at a distance, you could make out a cut framing his eye, and one side of his face was bruised.

But he was here. He was whole.

He was alive.

You couldn't help it. You charged forward, no feeling in your legs as you zoomed past other families and officers, probably a few high-ranking officials in your paint-smattered shirt and overalls. Time slowed down for you as you ran, even if you were running as if your life depended on it.

"JAKE!"

Jake lifted his head at the sound of your voice, urging Bradley to stop. Bradley looked at him funny, watching his eyes glaze over and wondering if Jake hit his head harder than the medics originally thought. But then he followed his gaze, only to see you charging forward without a care in the world to reach him, and he knew.

Bradley unhooked his arm from around Jake's shoulders, steadying him for a second and then letting go, stepping to the side so you could have your moment.

You slid along the floor as you came to a halt in front of Jake, worried he was more damaged than you could see, arms reaching for him. Jake bracketed his arms tightly around your back the second you touched him, and you buried your face into his shoulder. He grunted as he pulled you tight, shoving his nose into your collarbone.

Jake smelt of the sea, of gasoline and sweat. His flight suit felt ripped under your hands as you tried to find a grip. Or maybe you were trying to assure yourself he was really there. Your mind flashed through all the possible things he might have gone through with each caress, your cries getting louder with each one.

Yet in your panic, you pulled back from his hug, only to take his face into your hands and kiss him hard.

"I love you," you gasped out between kisses. "I'm not getting you go. I'm here. I love you, I love you, I love you."

Jake's response was instant, fingers quickly gripping the back of your neck, the roots of your hair, to drive your head at all the angles he wanted, all the ways that made it easier for him to devour you.

You felt like you couldn't breathe, pulling away from his lips with a tightness in your chest. Your eyes fell on his lips, red and slightly swollen, and you were positive yours were the same. Until you looked up at those green eyes and the rest of the hanger, everyone else, faded away.

Jake smiled at you.

"Hi, Darlin.'"

You huffed a sad laugh through your tears, letting yourself fall into his body, hiding your face in his chest, sobbing.

Jake didn't let the grip on your neck go, curving his hand against the skin, holding you to him. His other arm, at some point, had dropped down to your waist. Whether it was to keep himself upright or keep you from falling over, he wasn't sure. Nor did he really care. Because Jake was pressing his mouth into your hair and closing his eyes to relish the feel of you in his arms.

He was home.

You turned your head against his chest to look over at Bradley, slightly surprised to see him hugging Alyssa. Her forehead was leaning against her hands, currently shaped into a triangle against his chest. She was shaking with silent sobs as Bradley hugged her back, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

The panic you felt before settles in your chest, warmth wrapping around your rib cage. As if he felt your eyes on him, Bradley opened his eyes, resting his cheek atop her head. You reached out, Bradley instantly extending his arm to grasp your hand. You smiled sadly at him with a fresh wave of tears in your eyes, squeezing his hand before burying your head back into Jake's chest, not once letting go.

Feeling you move against him, Jake lifted his head, catching your hand holding Bradley's. He found Bradley looking at the two of you with a smile, in a similar position, with Alyssa wrapped around him.

"Is there something you want to tell us, Rooster?" he said, eyes gesturing to Alyssa. You shook with silent laughter against his chest.

Bradley smiled at you, at Jake, before closing his eyes and letting his lips graze Alyssa's forehead. "Is that any way to speak to your saviour?"

There was no malice in Jake's words when he dropped his head back down to press a kiss into your hair, flippantly shooting back, "Don't push it, Bradshaw. I'm still ahead by one."

---

The ride home had been quiet.

After some harsh convincing by you and Alyssa, Jake and Bradley were allowed to leave. You had gotten the run down by one of the medical officers about Jake. He had no concussion and no broken bones but had ended up with quite a large amount of water in his lungs and a significant amount of bruising the days before.

You caught snippets of Rooster's conversation with the medics, enough to know what happened. You didn't want to know the deeper details unless Jake wanted to talk to you about it. Knowing he almost drowned and Bradley had saved him was enough.

He wasn't at risk of a secondary drowning, but more so pneumonia or an Edema. You'd be calling an ambulance at the first sign of a cough.

Bradley was helping Jake up the steps of your front porch as you went ahead and unlocked your door. Lyssa spotted Jake from below, hands out and ready. Despite her tiny frame, she was there, ready to catch him should he need help.

You were quietly surprised to see Bradley being the one to help Jake. You knew it wouldn't have been easy for either of them: Jake, who didn't want to need to accept the help at all, and Bradley, for whom he was helping.

But once Jake cleared the last step and straightened himself, he patted Bradley on the shoulder, murmuring a 'Thanks, Rooster' before limping over to you.

You looked up at him with a smile, cocking the side of your head in Bradley's direction before saying, "I'll meet you inside?"

Jake nodded, then nodded once to Rooster before continuing inside. Lyssa had walked off back to her car around the same time, leaving only you and Bradley standing alone on your porch. You pulled him into a hug.

"Thank you, Bradley. For saving his life."

Rooster stiffened at your touch but slowly relaxed, arms coming up to wrap around your back. "I know it's not worth much, but I'm truly sorry Lizzie," he murmured. "For all of it."

You shook your head against his shoulder, murmuring a low "Don't," but Bradley pressed on.

"I've been an ass since the start. I've been the one doing all the things I said Jake would do," he said next to your ear, refusing to let you go. "I think I was more worried about being replaced.. and everything else... I just didn't want to see you and the bug getting hurt. The rule was to put Sadie first. Instead, I was the one doing all that. He really does care about the two of you despite some of his faults."

You pulled back from the hug but still left your hand on his shoulder, wiping at your eyes. "Can I ask what made you change your mind?"

Bradley gave a fond look, and you could only stare at him for a second before a smile shot across your face. "Sadie?"

You had wondered what she had scribbled in that letter. She was shifty about it, too, refusing to let you see anything anytime you walked by.

Something told you you'd never know.

Rooster grinned. "Yeah," he said, scratching the back of his head. "Her and the fact, this one saved me yet again. Then gave me a heart attack."

You smiled, looking back at your open door. "I'd like to think he was giving you the chance to make it up to us."

Bradley dropped his chin to his chest, still smiling, before he looked over to Alyssa, leaning against the driver's side of her car.

"Call me if you need help?" he offered, stepping forward to place a hand on your forearm before turning to proceed down your front steps.

"I think we'll be okay," you replied softly, not really caring if he heard you, still staring at your front door.

---

The tension inside the house hit you like a wave the second you closed the door. It was just Jake and you now, and despite everything that transpired the past few hours, you felt nervous.

Looking down, you spied Jake's boots neatly lined up next to some of yours, making you wonder how he managed to get them off. It made you undo your laces slowly, tactically, as if to stall time.

Something about standing here made everything more real.

There was also the bit about you sending him that partial nude. And that letter - which you weren't as concerned about. But that damn photo, all inspired by a moment of brevity, had you yelling to yourself, what the hell did I just do? when you dropped it off at Penny's.

You couldn't worry about the shame currently building in the pit of your stomach. You had to press on.

Jake was hurt. He needed you.

“Jake?” you called out softly, not expecting to find him hunched over, leaning against the wall of your hallway, facing you. You held out your hands, ready to grab him and support him. That was until he sharply lifted his head, eyes the only thing you could truly make out in the dim lighting, the dawn just peeking through your windows. You froze, lowering them, your voice stuck in your throat. Those eyes were challenging you to move, daring you to escape, to make a sound in the dead silence that wasn’t what he wanted to hear. With the predatory glint in his eyes, you knew right away what he wanted to talk about.

Yet, Jake is the one to break the silence first.

"Where's Sadie?"

"Camp."

You feel like you've just given him the green light for something with those words. He seemed to know it, too.

"What can I do to help you?" the question comes out more quietly than you were anticipating.

Jake straightens himself with a groan but doesn't remove his eyes from you. On the contrary, they are still sharp and as intense as when he first saw you.

"Liz," he spoke lowly.

He takes a step forward. You take one back.

"I think you know the answer to that."

"Do I?" you breathe out, taking another step, and he stalks forward as much as he is able.

He nods once. "I got your letter. And your photo."

Your back hits the wall - you can go no further.

It's not as if you couldn't escape him or tell him to stop. Jake is pinning you with his eyes as he approaches you and cages you against the wall. You know if you told him to stop, that all this was too much, he'd back away.

You don't want him to, though.

"Darlin," he roughs out, a hand reaching for your hip, his mouth next to your ear. "I've thought of nothing else."

Your trembling, heaving though no sound is coming out. You knew Jake was tall, muscled, and built like a freaking horse. It's stupid how the thought crosses your mind once again. You feel small against him, pressed up against the wall.

"I take it you liked it?"

You have no idea where this courage is coming from.

"Liked it?" he pressed a kiss on your neck below your ear. "I got hard just looking at it."

You title your head back against the wall; eyes closed, an arm coming up to wrap around his neck as Jake continues to press small kisses into your skin, slowly starting to add his teeth. An arm shoots around your waist, tugging you into him, and you gasp, racking up the wall with the movement.

"Jake," you gasped to the ceiling, digging your fingers into his hair. He winced against your neck with a groan, pausing. You wondered if you had accidentally injured him more. Because as much as Jake was desperately trying to merge himself into your skin, as much as he was trying to show you just how much he loved you, how much he wanted you, he was utterly exhausted.

And he was hurt.

"There's nothing more I want than to be with you right now," you said calmly, stroking the hair at the back of his neck, sobering the moment. "But you're exhausted. And hurt, Jake. When was the last time you slept? "

Jake sighed into your neck, weight sagging with him, "Only a few minutes on the flight home. Not sure when before that."

It was true. Bradley had managed to resurface with him strung across his back, carrying Jake the rest of the way up that stairwell. His memory was fractured into bits and pieces of moments when he opened his eyes. Him being carried on a stretcher, Rooster sitting next to him in a med tent, voices yelling, and people poking and prodding at him. The flight home was when he really started to get his memory back, but he didn't dare fall back asleep, wondering if it had all been a dream and he really did die back there.

You frowned. "Let me take care of you, okay? I'm not going anywhere."

Pressing a long kiss on his cheek, you carefully untangled yourself from his hold, sliding down the wall. Hooking your arm around his waist, you led him down your hall to your bathroom. Jake's grip on your body was anchored tight. Hand threaded through the opposite pocket of your overalls, a part of him always touching you.

Leaving him to lean against your bathroom counter, you spun to turn on the shower, ensuring the water was okay before coming to stand in front of him once more. Resting your hands on his chest, you toyed with the zipper of his damaged flight suit.

"Do you need help?" you asked him softly.

He knew he could manage without you, even with his back being out of sorts. Yet, he still softly replied, "Go ahead."

You ranked your eyes over the fabric as you pulled down the tab of his zipper. His suit was ripped in some places, and large chunks were torn out, revealing the black tank he was wearing underneath. The zippers of the side pockets were misaligned, and while both of his patches were still intact, the threads were sticking out around the borders, making them unusable.

You made a note in the back of your mind to steal them the second you could.

Once the zipper reached the end, you moved both of your hands down to his chest, taking both sides and pushing the fabric off his shoulders.

Yet you stilled when you felt something hard in one of the pockets, instantly unfolding the fabric and unzipping the pocket, Jake watching you with hooded eyes. You pulled out a water-tight bag, gasping when you saw your letter and the various polaroids through the clear material.

"You.. You saved them?"

Jake let go of your hips to shrug the piece of clothing off, freeing his arms. He placed one hand on your hip, the other taking the bag from you, holding them.

"Why wouldn't I?" Jake's voice was quiet.

You felt a lump in your throat, tracing the bag in his hands. You were curious to know which one is the cockpit photo, but you also know your spontaneous, risky shot is also in with them. It's not that you didn't regret it, nor did Jake's enthusiastic reaction deter you, but you still felt that little bit of shame and embarrassment knowing the physical proof still existed.

"I... I didn't think they would mean that much to you. It was just a thing Sadie and I did so you wouldn't feel left out," you admitted, feeling vulnerable.

"They were all I had of you and Sadie out there."

It guts you, the simplicity of such a statement, yet packed with so much meaning.

Jake placed the bag behind him on the counter, ready to resume his grip on your body. Except his eyes caught sight of the pieces of metal dangling over the front of your chest, and he reached out to take his Dog Tags into the palm of his hand.

"You're wearing them."

You followed the chain to stare at the two pieces of metal. Your reply was soft, "I rarely took them off."

He didn't need to know about your breakdown. Not yet. You had said enough in your letter for him to know you had done what you needed to do, but he didn't need to know about the events that led up to it.

That was a conversation for another day.

Jake sighed, letting them drop back down in between the two of you, hand curving around your hip and pressing his forehead to yours. The two of you stayed like that for a few seconds until you felt him fiddling with the clasp on your hip, never fully releasing it from its hold.

He didn't need to voice it for you to know the question behind the action. It was clear as day as to what he was asking of you.

Will you join me?

Remember all those times over the past year you told yourself to fuck it? This was definitely getting added to all those other times.

Because you found yourself reaching down to your side and finishing the job, releasing the button from his hold. You felt Jake's breath against your mouth, warm and wet, as he slid his hand up to one of the front clasps, popping the buttons out of the hooks as he tugged, repeating the process with the other.

The two straps fell down your back, and you held your arms up in a silent invitation. Jake seemed to hold his breath as he pulled at your battered shirt, up over your head, to reveal your bare breasts.

He tossed your shirt to the side in the general direction of your laundry basket, but you didn't take your eyes off his to find out if it hit its mark. You feel no shame as he dropped his gaze. He's seen them before, kissed them, touched them. But the way his eyes rake over them makes it seem like it's the first time he has.

But when you reach for his black tank, pulling at the hem to work it over his body, you catch the view of his back in your mirror and let out a terrifying gasp.

His back is one big purple bruise, marring his skin. It spread from the curve of his right shoulder blade, sinking its way across his spine and ending near his hip. The only comparison you could draw to it was a painter's palette of cool colours mixed in with black. Whatever he had hit, it was clear the impact had been severe.

"Jake," you cry out, stepping to the side so you can turn him and see the damage for yourself, not in some reflection.

"How bad is it? The medics told me it's there."

"It's not pretty."

It was the most accurate statement you could give him without wanting to double or even triple-check the work of the medics on him. He let you investigate the bruised skin for a few seconds more before moving out of your grasp and facing you.

"Come on," he uttered. "Let's get under the water."

You quickly removed the rest of your clothing, letting the rest of your overalls and underwear fall to the floor, using your toes to work off your socks. Jake managed to get the remainder of his flight suit off with little struggle, boxers included.

You weren't ashamed of your body. But you were a little apprehensive, letting Jake see everything in its entirety. It makes you step into the shower first, almost as if you were trying to run away.

All this is new to you. And the internal battle currently raging on in your head was making you hesitant. Because even standing here, naked in your shower, Jake's eyes ranking over you like you were his last meal from behind the glass door, you still fought with yourself not to look at him.

But let's be real. You were a virgin, new to all of this.

You definitely looked.

And tried to mute the squeal that was trying to crawl its way out of your throat as you turned to let the running water hit your face. You could hear Jake's warm chuckle from behind you as he stepped into the boxed space.

"Like what you see?" he spoke lowly into your ear, dragging your back to rest against his front by your elbows.

"I'm not going to answer that question. 'Cause we both know if I do, it's going to lead to something."

You could feel all his ridges and sharply defined muscles against your back, and it took you everything not to mould yourself into him. Jake pressed a kiss to your shoulder, then another to your neck, before resting his cheek against yours. "And what would that be?"

"Jake..." you warned, your voice slightly shakey.

"Not tonight," he replied, dragging his hands up your arms. "I just wanted to see how far that blush of yours goes."

"Oh, you kinky.." but he didn't let you finish, catching your mouth in an opened-mouth kiss. You moaned, tilting your head back before turning to face him, wrapping your arms around his neck.

You released his lips to glaze up into his eyes, taking the moment to assure yourself yet again he was here with you. You matched his soft smile before he zoned in on your cheek, reaching up to thumb the skin. His face was hardened in concentration, no doubt rubbing at a stroke of paint you'd accidentally marked yourself with, working to get it off. You smiled, pressing a kiss to his wrist.

"What's this from?"

"I'm painting Sadie's room, trying to make it more hers as a Birthday gift."

Jake hummed.

The two of you continued to shower together, you mostly helping Jake. You tried not to get too caught up in staring at him, biting your lip in concretion as you rubbed body wash over him. You felt his eyes on your face the entire time, and you tried to resist the urge to lean up and kiss him.

Jake made you spin around to face the showerhead to return the favour. Feeling his hands caress your skin, letting him work the soap under the swells of your breast, along your arms, even down the panel of your stomach, you had to fight the arousal pooling in between your legs.

Not to mention, you could feel him growing hard and heavy against your lower back.

"This isn't fair. I'm the one who's supposed to be taking care of you," you murmured, leaning your head back against his shoulder.

He pressed a delicate kiss to your collarbone. "This is taking care of me."

You ended up getting out first, picking up each of your discarded clothing, throwing them in the basket, and reaching for the towels you kept on the makeshift shelf on your wall as Jake finished with his hair. You saw the frown on his face when he stepped out, and you rolled your eyes affectionately at him, handing him a towel.

Helping him to your room, you left him to sit on the corner of your bed. You rummaged through your top drawer, pulling out the pair of his boxers you had accidentally missed when you packed up his bag. You found them on the day you were getting things ready to visit Ridley.

He took them without a word while you pulled on your sleep shirt and underwear, ironically the same baggy nightshirt you wore the night of that damn thunderstorm where he kissed you.

Climbing into your bed, you held up your comforter as an invitation. He fell face-first into your chest with an aching groan, grabbing your sides to pull himself half on top of you, his head finding a home in the crook of your neck.

Your suspicions from before are finally confirmed. Because even as he held you, Jake was desperately fighting sleep.

Pressing a delicate kiss to the cut on his cheek, you grazed your lips up until you could press them just below his hairline, your fingers threading themselves soothingly through his hair.

"Go to sleep," you whispered into his forehead. "I'll be here when you wake up."

---

You slowly awoke to the sensation of lips delicately pressing soft kisses into your forehead and fingers stroking along the back of your arm, the occasional touch of warm metal accompanying the touch. You mewled, curling yourself deep into the apex of his shoulder, lulled by sleep.

"I'm sorry I woke you. Go back to sleep."

You pressed a sleepy kiss to his bare chest. "I should be awake. I'd sleep the day away like this if I could."

Jake hummed, resuming his gentle caresses. He had raked down your sleep shirt along your back, fingers now dragging up and down your spine, getting lower and lower each time he did it, causing you to shiver.

"I had a dream like this. While I was away on the carrier," he spoke, pressing another kiss to your temple. "At the ranch in Texas. In my room above the barn."

"Tell me?" you yawned, still half asleep, warm and content.

Jake nosed into your cheek, trailing it over your skin as he spoke, "The two of us. In my bed. Naked."

You shook silently with laughter, turning your head back against his arm. "Of course you did."

You would have seen Jake smiling down at you had you decided to open your eyes.

"I'd dream I woke up with your back to me, sheets resting low on the curve of your back." He slid the back of his fingers across your exposed shoulder, getting lost in the image in his head. "The barn door was open, catching the first rays of sunlight in your hair. There must have been a storm cause the grass was so green, everything was so right."

You leaned away from his chest, resting your head further back on his arm to peer up at his face. Jake's hair is dishevelled, his eyes harbouring the remnants of sleep, worn and puffy. His bruise had already begun to yellow, and his cut didn't appear red or as swollen. Yet, looking up at him from within the safety of his arms, huddled against his massive chest, you find yourself wishing you could control the way air catches in your throat.

"Sounds perfect."

Jake smiled softly, leaning down to kiss you. You moan in protest, turning your head away and barely managing an "I have morning breath" to Jake as his lips land on your cheek.

"I don't care," he rasped into your ear. You turned your head back, and he placed his mouth on yours.

You give as much as he is giving you, letting Jake caress your tongue with his, letting him take and take at his pleasure, until he is releasing your mouth and mouthing across your cheek.

He’s taking his time with you, something so different from the previous times you've found yourself against or under him, at the mercy of his mouth and hands. There's hesitation in his movements, wary of making any sudden, intense movements that might have you bolt.

"You're taking your time," you say aloud, carting your fingers through his hair. Jake laps gently at the corner of your neck, hand stroking down the side of your leg. He pulls back to stare at your face, you meeting his gaze.

"I almost didn't have time."

God, you know how true that statement is. And the fact, the Jake who left you standing at the end of your driveway all those weeks ago wasn't the exact same one who returned to you.

Jake travels down the length of your body, and you let him push up your oversized shirt, revealing your breasts. "Hello, girls," he grinned, pressing a single kiss to each breast. "Oh, how I've missed you."

It makes you laugh, carting your fingers through his hair, messing it up even further. You can feel him smile against your skin. But then he is trailing his nose down your core, down your stomach, lightly grazing your skin with his lips as he goes. You watch him with careful eyes, your breath picking up quickly.

You know his intentions, where this is going, what it would evidently end up being. And you’re okay with that. You trust him, and you love him. There wasn’t anyone else you could imagine having your first time with.

Working himself down to the end of your bed, Jake’s face hovers over your underwear, his eyes searching yours. You nod, reaching down to help him remove them, Jake flinging them behind his head in a dramatic fashion, making you laugh once again.

Until he’s lining up kisses down the inside of your thigh, stopping when he’s just that close to your core. And then he looks up once again. You can hardly see any green in his eyes, just a thin strip on the edge of being overtaken by black.

“Can I put my mouth on you?”

What do you do but stutter an embarrassing reply of, “If you want to.”

Jake wouldn’t ask if he didn’t want to. You knew that. He even chuckles at your answer teasingly.

“You’re going to have to keep these open if I do,” he says, tapping the back of your thigh. “I’m not going to nearly perish a second time, though what a hell of a way to go.”

You huff in amusement, tinting your head back against your pillow only to drop your chin to your chest, looking at him between your legs.

“Just be gentle with me, Jake. I’m not…”

Experienced is the word you leave out, but you know Jake understands you. He always seemed to when it comes to you.

He places both of your legs on his shoulders before reaching up to thread his fingers through yours at your side. He barely has time to punch out the words, “Tell me to stop if it’s too much,” before his nose is parting your folds and he’s swiping his tongue up and down your cunt repeatedly.

You pull against his hold on your hands at the feeling, wailing and then biting your lip to quiet yourself, muffling your sounds.

Jake lets go of one of your hands to thumb your bottom lip, removing it from your teeth. He lifts his head and says in one breath, “Sadie’s not here, Liz. Let me hear you moan for me.”

And then he’s sucking on your clit, and you can’t hold it in any longer. The noise you let out is practically a scream, and the vibrations from Jake’s moan against your cunt push you that much further. Cause the fact he mentioned her name while headfirst deep between your legs is filthy.

And the sounds that follow, echoing around your bedroom, are raunchy. The night Jake kissed you in your hallway, your worries about Sadie hearing both of you come to mind. Because thank God she wasn’t here, or else she’d think Jake was murdering you.

You’d have to work on being quiet if you ever wanted to do this again with Jake once she came back home.

You felt hot with your shirt racked up around the top of your breasts, gripping the hem to rip it over your head, your back leaping off the bed as far as it could go. Jake glances up, still working his mouth against your cunt to watch, the only remaining piece on your body is his tags.

You buck into his mouth, having no control over your body as he just sucks and sucks and sucks, your grip on his hand getting tighter and tighter, and you’re gripping your comforter to the point your hand throbs from the force. Cause everything burns and feels so good and yet so bad, and you cry to whatever part of you decided you needed to wait to experience this.

But in the back of your head, you know nobody could make you feel the way Jake was making you feel now.

Something snaps, hard, your muscles pulling tant and the cry blaring out into the ceiling of your bedroom is anything but salacious. And Jake's voice is muffled when he works you through it, chanting, “Good girl, that’s my good girl,” over and over as you chant your hips to chase the feeling.

You are a shaking mess when Jake finally lets go, and slides back up your body, letting his weight settle against your chest, arms threading themselves under your shoulders.

"Was that okay?"

You don't even have the words to describe how you are feeling. Your eyes are wide, staring up at him, wondering why the hell he'd be asking such a question when he caused you to be in such a state.

Instead, you lurch up and kiss him hard, your hands gripping the middle of his back, sliding down to slip under the fabric of his boxers. Jake jolts when he feels your hands cupping his ass.

"Are you sure, darlin'?" he pants, pulling away from you. "Are you sure you want this? With me?"

This was Jake. He wouldn't have you without your consent.

"I only want you."

It's slightly cheesy. But there was no other way you could put it. You couldn't imagine doing this with anyone else. But he challenges you again, asking, "Are you sure you want it to be me?"

You wanted to smack him for his sheer idiocy right now, bringing up his shitty perception of his self-worth. But you don't want to ruin the mood, and you know where it's coming from deep down. It has nothing to do with you.

"I do," you say instead, rubbing your nose against his. "I just don't know how to make you feel good, though."

"It's not about me right now."

Except it was. It was about both of you.

"Get on top of me."

The both of you rolled, Jake grabbing your hips as you landed on top of him. You sat up, placing your hands on his chest. The action had you rocking yourself back onto his clothed cock, and Jake let out a moan, hands tightening on your waist to push and pull with your movements.

Leaning down to kiss him once, you followed his jawline, reaching his ear. "You want to know something?" you asked, suddenly emboldened.

"What?" he gasped, nails biting into your skin.

"I've been dying to do this since the first time I saw you on the beach."

You felt the pinch of his nails as you kissed down his neck, making sure to catch a patch of skin between your teeth softly. You continued down his chest until you finally got to your desired place.

The divet.

The perfectly sculpted yet slightly crooked valley that split the entire length of his chest in half. You had a brief moment of panic, a stutter in your heartbeat, when you realized just how forward you, the freaking virgin, were being. Hell, you didn't even know if you were doing any of this right.

All you knew, you had waited long enough.

Spread out beneath you, Jake's body is spread out for you like a personalized meal. You pressed a kiss into his skin first before letting your tongue press deep into that valley and swirl all sorts of patterns across his skin. His eyes nearly bugled out of his head before Jake groaned, chest puffing out and hand fisting into your hair.

You work your way up, getting ready to take one of his nipples into your mouth, when Jake suddenly shouts and lets out a fevered, "Stop."

You reel back in shock, scared you overstepped. But Jake only tugged you up by your hips, using you as a counterweight to pull himself to sit against your headboard with a painful groan. He settled you directly against his pelvis, where you can feel just how hard he is through his boxers.

He grips the back of your neck hard and slams his lips into yours. You whimper into the kiss, worried he's using it as a tactic to let you down gently. When he finally releases your lips, you burst out, "I'm sorry, I overstepped. I shouldn't have.."

Jake grips your throat, thumb resting just barely on your Adam's apple, enough to know it's there. You can feel it with each hard sallow you take, his hand big enough to encompass the entire length and width of your neck.

"Don't ever apologize for that," he states firmly. "I'm yours to do with what you will. And trust me when I say there is a lot more you can do to me than just a simple kiss on the chest."

And there's the blush.

"I told you I'd corrupt your innocent little soul," he smirks, pulling you to his mouth once again.

The next few moments are filled with long, passionate kisses and heavy touches until Jake is reaching for the hem of his boxers, and you find yourself helping him pull them down, him kicking them off in some unknown direction.

Unlike this morning, there's no hesitation when you take him in, his cock hard and standing to attention. You regret your reaction to the comment you made about his helmet last year. Cause there was truth behind that one missing letter.

Jake reaches for you, helping to position you over him before he suddenly freezes. "Shit," he gasped, pushing you to sit on his thighs. "We don't have anything."

You ducked your head shyly. "We don't need one if you're okay without one. I... I'm on the pill."

"You're on the pill?"

You know what he means behind the question instantly.

"Two months before Penny asked me back. Other reasons, though. Not that I was expecting to get laid at any point in time," you answer him quietly, lifting your head. "You know me, Jake. I don't do one-night stands. I never have."

Jake relaxed under your hold, a small part of him sighing in relief.

"Worried I moved on?" you ask him softly, stroking your finger across his brow.

"You had every right to," he's almost ashamed to admit. You shook your head. "When are you going to get it through that stubborn head of yours that you are worth it, Jake? I love you. I'm not going anywhere."

Jake sighed again, dropping his forehead to your collarbone.

"Besides, you painted a pretty picture in the flatbed of your truck," you tease, quickly reciting the words he had rasped into your ear when his fingers were almost knuckle deep in your cunt. You drop your head forward and whisper into his ear, "The day I can have you gripping my cock?"

Jake growled at your words, reaching for your thigh to properly position you over him. Straddling his waist, you rest on your knees. Jake grabbed his cock, angling it just so as to rub the tip against your cunt slowly. You weren't sure whether he was teasing you or getting you used to a feeling.

Maybe it was a bit of both.

Then his tip caught at your entrance, and you let out a whimper.

He stops, not doing anything else except letting go of himself to latch onto your other hip. Tilting his head, he places a kiss on the underside of your jaw, breathing in deep.

You understand why Jake had you move on top of him for this. He was letting you control the pace and do what only felt comfortable to you. It warms your heart, even if it is on the verge of jumping out of your chest.

"Take your time, darlin," he encouraged you softly, mouthing at the skin under your collarbone. "I'm here whenever you are ready. And we can stop at any point."

You took a deep breath, finally finding the courage to press yourself down onto him.

Something between a whine and a gasp escaped your lips as you felt the tip of his cock enter you. You had no previous experience to compare this to, but you were sure you weren't supposed to feel this stretched out. Or this full.

You got about halfway down before you cried out, sightly in pain. Jake's grip tightened on your leg and hip, muscles flexing as he halted you. You're slick, but it's a tight fit. And his breath was just as ragged as yours.

Sliding the hand that was griping your hip up your back, Jake encompasses the nape of your neck in his hand, tiling your head down so he could take your mouth into an open kiss.

"Jake," you whimpered into his mouth, your nails digging hard into his shoulder. Jake kept a tight rein on his control, but it was a battle he was struggling with. You just felt too good around him.

"Such a good girl for me," he cooed. "Taking my cock."

"I don't know if I can go any further," you whimper. But Jake is quick to reply, "We don't have to, not if you don't want to. But you're almost there, just a little bit more."

"Fuck," you whined, tearing yourself away from his mouth to bury your face into his shoulder. His hand tightened against the nape of your neck, fingers tangling themselves into the roots of your hair. The grip is reassuring and grounding, and you take several deep breaths before you press down once again.

Then, just when you think you can't take anymore, he bottoms out, his hips pressed tightly into yours.

That's it. You were a virgin no longer.

And suddenly, with that thought, you felt nervous. Because, of all things, that damn fucking sign in the girl's bathroom of the Hard Deck flashes in your mind.

Jake is experienced. You're not. It was one thing for him to say he didn't mind you were a virgin, but it was something else for him to be the one to change that status. Because every story you've ever read about how men would compare their previous partners to their current one eats away at you.

There was no way you would stack up to the long list of women Jake had bedded, for lack of a better word. But Jake only nuzzled the valley between your breasts, tongue delicately tracing the underside of one while rubbing soothingly down the curve of your spine.

"Perfect," he murmured softly. You can't help yourself when your next words come out more anxiously than teasingly. "Live up to your imagination?"

If Jake caught on, he didn't let you know.

"Better," he groaned. "I don't care if we do anything else. I'm perfectly content to be like this the rest of the day."

He twitches inside you, and you gasp, dropping your mouth to rest against the top of his head. You know what he is doing. He's letting you adjust, letting the pain subside, assuring your anxious thoughts.

"Like this? Me, wrapped around your cock, barely moving," You manage to pant, and he hums against your chest. "What if we have company? Rooster tends to show up unannounced."

"He better not," his growl vibrates off your skin, hand flexing on your thigh in an effort not to thrust. "He should know better than to show up at your door when he knows damn well what we're getting up to."

Jake titles his head to set his teeth into your collarbone in a warning, making you clench involuntarily and whimper. He snarls into your neck, "Don't mention him when I'm inside you. This is not going to end badly, not for your first time."

The heat laced in his voice did nothing to stop the small chuckle that racked your chest. Your muscles pull tight across your stomach, and you choke, "Are you trying to make me combust?"

"Is it working?"

Jake doesn't move. Not at first. Not until you decide to test the waters and flex your hips once, rocking yourself on his cock ever so slightly.

Your mouth is resting open against his forehead, and your nails are biting into his shoulders as you moan, letting the first thumps of pain, turn into pleasure. He's tense under you, Jake, using every ounce of willpower not to thrust himself hard up into you to match your rocks. He wants to take this slow. He wants you to enjoy this, no matter how badly he wants to feel you clench around him.

Instead, he rasps into your breast, “Feel good?”

Why is he so obsessed with asking you questions?

You’re unsure if your noise is intelligible, but you try to force out an affirmative hum. Then he hits the back of your cervix, making you howl and curl into him.

It must have been the sound you let out because Jake growls. Gripping the flesh of your butt tightly, he flipped the both of you. You weren't expecting him to, not with how beaten up he was. The movement of your back hitting the bed caused him to hit something deep inside you, causing you to cry out and grip the planes of his shoulders, nails biting hard and uncaring if you happened to touch his bruise.

The slow movement of you rocking on him was nothing compared to the way he started to thrust in earnest.

"You have no idea how much I've wanted you," he panted, increasing his pace. "The day I saw you at the Hard Deck when you were dancing in your kitchen. The clean fucking slate."

You whimper at the growl he spun on the word fucking, adding to the heat already spreading across your body. Even with the pleasure he’s bestowing across your body, you know this must be somewhat painful for him.

"Jake.." you gasped. "Your back."

"Fuck my back," he grunted, angling his hips in an urgent thrust. It made you tilt your head back into your pillow, your head almost hitting your headboard, your nails biting into his back, letting out a heated cry. Jake went for your neck, teeth, and lips, pressing hard to your pulse point.

"I don't care if I fucking break it," he growled out. "I'm not stopping until you cum for me."

A particular thrust caused you to turn your head, and Jake sunk his teeth into your neck. You lifted your leg, wrapping it around Jake's waist. The angle of this next thrust changed, and you whimpered loudly, tears leaking down the sides of your face as Jake lurched over you with a desperate groan.

It has you wrapping your other leg around his waist, your hips slanted downwards, his cock pounding you at a new angle.

His hand, supporting himself on the bed next to you, shot out to grip your bedframe. Alternating between deep thrusts and shallow teases, Jake watched you underneath him. Your breasts bounce with every thrust, your eyes fighting to stay open, and dog tags - his dog tags - jangling against your stomach.

He almost didn’t have this, the stark realization haunting him. He had literally been a breath away from never seeing you again, never feeling your warmth or hearing your cries of pleasure or even your laughter. He would take any chance, any glance, anything to assure him you were real. And that you were his.

His back spasmed, and he fell on top of you, saving himself from crushing you at the last second. But it doesn’t deter him. No, Jake still flexed his hips, more than determined to get you over that edge, to have you cum. Even if he didn’t, he wanted you to experience at least that.

But those dog tags cause a possessive feeling to rise in his chest - because the only word going through his head right now is mine.

"You’re mine, Elizabeth,” he grunted. "Say it. Please say it.”

There's the possessive kink you know and love.

“I’m yours,” you cry out, consumed by the feeling of him driving his cock into you. “Yours Jake, just please…”

It is then a mantra of "pleases" and "I needs" fall from your lips, of which you aren't sure what for. All you knew was that Jake was working you higher and higher off that edge, fully determined to see you tumble over it.

“Cum for me Liz,” he whines. “Cum for me, just for me. Please my darlin’ girl.”

He drops his hand between the two of you, seeking out your clit and rubbing hard, tight circles that have you screaming. Your soaring, going over that somewhat unfamiliar edge he’s brought you over only twice before.

You swear you black out, just for a few moments, until Jake is at your ear, whispering praise after praise about how good it finally felt to have you cum around him. How only he would ever be the one to experience this, how proud of you he is.

Then he thrusts, once, twice, before your hips jolt up, and he's pressing himself deep, flooding your core. You sob, burying your face into his neck and tightening your legs around him. Because amongst the overstimulation, you can feel another one creeping up from out of nowhere. Pure white heat shoots up to your chest as Jake's haunting moan vibrates your entire being.

Then it's quiet, and you want to bury yourself in this moment.

You don't even care that you're crying. Because, with all the thoughts and feelings flying back and forth through your mind, there's one that stands out the most.

Your so fucking glad you waited.

"Are you alright?"

When you don't say anything, too blissed out to form words, Jake pants out your name against your neck; his voice laced with urgency.

"I need... I need a moment. Just a moment," you manage to pant, forcing breath into your lungs. Jake moves, trying to bring himself onto his elbows as his back screams in protest.

"Did I hurt you?" he asks, stroking your cheek. You manage a small shake of your head, the sides of your mouth turning upwards. "No," you reply softly.

You finally open your eyes to see Jake staring down at you. His brow pulled together in concern. And, of course, you, being you, had to say the first thing that came to mind.

"I guess you did give me a good time after all."

Jake tilts his head for a second before his memory catches up with him, and he shakes his head, though you can see the puff he takes out of pride.

"What am I going to do with you, Elizabeth Beck?"

You grin up at him. "Hopefully, a repeat of that sometime in the near future?"

Jake rolled onto his side with a groan, pulling you with him to lie half on his chest. The action caused him to slip out from you, which you were grateful for. The quick movement only caused a brief amount of pain, and you were sure if he drew it out, it would have been worse.

Jake was pressing kisses to your forehead as the aftershocks finally made them known. You trembled against him, hands trying to find purchase along his chest, and Jake didn't stop until he was sure you were okay.

But, in the blissful silence, once you calmed down, Jake playing with your hair against your back, did he finally ask the question you knew was coming since he walked through your front door.

"Does she hate me?"

You weakly lifted your head from his shoulder, watching the conflicting emotions play across his face.

"The day at the beach. She was devastated..." Jake trailed off, absentmindedly staring at your bedroom wall. You pressed a kiss to his chest. "We've both had a lot of people in our lives that have hurt us."

"I'm used to disappointing people, but her? She has every right."

You frowned. "She missed you so much, Jake."

He shook his head, slamming his eyes shut. You lifted your hand off his chest to cradle his jaw, your thumb stroking across his cheekbone under the newly darkened skin. "She could never hate you. She asked me every day when you'd be coming home."

Jake didn't open his eyes, but he did lean into your touch, his shame and guilt still evident.

You wanted to tell him about the most recent thunderstorm, Sadie waking up and crying out for the both of you in the middle of the night. You had done your best to soothe her, but deep down, you knew she wanted Jake. Nothing could compare to his words of reassurance or the way she felt when he hugged her that night.

In the end, lifting his dog tags off your neck and placing them around hers was the only thing that worked. Huddled in her bed with your arms around her, she fell asleep with them gripped tightly in her hand.

Something told you even if you did tell him, it would only make him more upset.

You stroked your fingers over his forehead, asking him softly, "Come with me when I pick her up from camp next week? I promise she will prove you wrong."

There was a silent pause, and then he opened his eyes. He searched you for any hint of deception, not that he would find any. Sadie was just as important to him as you were. In the end, he nodded once with a sigh.

It was a few more minutes before he carefully untangled himself from your hold. He swung his legs over to the side of your bed with a groan, his muscles spasming as he sat up. Even in your blissed-out state, you reached out and placed a hand on his upper back, where his bruise was the least dark, hoping to soothe some of his pain.

"Where are you going?"

"Getting something to clean you up."

"You don't have to, Jake. I can take care of it."

"It's my job," he countered, turning his head to look at you with a cheeky grin. "Let me do this for you."

He stood, lumping slightly to your bathroom to grab something to clean you up. You watched him go, taking him in in all his naked glory, biting your bottom lip hard.

You still couldn't believe he was yours.

You weren't expecting this: the gentleness as he took the rag between your legs when he returned, the kiss he placed on your thigh when you whimpered from the sensitivity.

After tossing the rag into your laundry hamper to be dealt with later, he maneuvered himself back into the position he assumed last night when you fell asleep, head buried in your neck, arms wrapped under your shoulders.

It was soothing, his weight on your chest almost counteracting the dull throbbing in your core.

"How long do I have you for?" you asked, threading your fingers through his hair.

"I have nowhere to be for the next two weeks," he mumbled into your chest.

"Stay with me?"

"As if I'd leave you now."

😏😘 You hate me now?

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Part 22 - Jump in progress

Wickett ;)

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deaf-solitude · 1 year ago

Text

Bloodsucker Pt. 2 (Vampire!Frenchie x GN!Reader)

Takes place post-season 1, pre-season 2 once again!

Pairing: Vampire!Frenchie x GN!Reader

Word Count: 3.8k

Warnings: Blood, death, detailed violence, vampire feeding, fluff???, they’re goofy your honour

((Oh my god I’m SO sorry for how long I’ve been gone, writer's block hit me like a mf but I’M FINALLY BACK!! Back with pt 2 of the vampire!Frenchie fic B). I took some liberties on the mechanics/weaknesses of vampires in this part (i.e. they can go out in the sun (but are prone to sunburns), how they act when they haven’t been able to feed in a while, etc), which I hope doesn’t screw up anything too much. If anyone would like an explanation of how vampires work in this AU, lmk and I’ll make a more detailed post about it. Also this came out a lot more platonic than i intended I’m so sorry lol. ALSO ALSO i probably wont write a part 3 unless it’s explicitly asked for, and if you guys do want a pt 3, let me know what you’d like to see in it and maybe i'll get around to it :D anyway, enjoy!))

To say you were now incredibly worried was an understatement.

Over the few days since the whole vampire accusation, things had only looked worse and worse for Frenchie. The opportunities to feed on bodies after raids were practically nonexistent because of the newly implemented rules and the crew had gotten annoyingly creative in their attempts to “ward off” the suspected vampire among them. You were afraid you were never going to be able to get the smell of garlic out of your nose after this all blew over since they had been hanging up bulbs and cloves everywhere you could imagine; you had even found a bulb stashed away in the storage closet you usually napped in, which you were quick to throw out of the nearest porthole.

Despite the crew’s valiant efforts, Frenchie had informed you that garlic didn’t actually repel vampires, but it did cause what you chalked up to be a minor allergic reaction in them. This was good news since Jim had forced every person on the ship to eat a raw clove shortly after the initial incident. You were never fond of garlic, so the experience was less than pleasant, but having to deal with a bleary-eyed and runny-nosed Frenchie afterward might’ve been worse.

But what really had you worried was the raids. Blackbeard’s strict schedule of at least one raid per day didn’t let up in the slightest with the discovery of a vampire on board, and as time went on, you noticed Frenchie acting… weirder than normal.

The exhaustion came first, which was one of the symptoms you expected from him not being able to feed. It started with him getting more tired than usual as the day went on, and then taking longer to wake up in the mornings. Next thing you knew, he started joining you on your cat naps in the closet, where you’d have to practically drag him out while he was still half asleep to avoid getting caught. Now, even in the middle of the day, he fought to keep his eyes open, and you had often caught him falling asleep standing up while leaning against a post.

Then there was the weakness. You had never been a particularly strong person before being forced into Blackbeard’s crew, but you knew Frenchie was at least a bit stronger than you due to his height. He had always been able to handle larger crates of treasure easily with the help of Jim, but now he could hardly keep himself on two feet, let alone transport cargo. There were several times when you’d send Frenchie down with a crate, you’d hear a loud clunk shortly after, and when you rushed down to check on him, the crate would be tipped over on the floor with Frenchie standing out of breath next to it and complaining that his arms hurt. It was even easier to tackle and drag him around now since he had little strength to pull away.

This didn’t prove useful in raids, both for his well-being and your mental health.

You had practically adopted the role of his bodyguard, having to save his ass from combatants on multiple occasions. In one particular instance, the raid had started fine. Sure, Frenchie was a bit drowsy, but it was nothing too concerning to you at the time. A few minutes later you were desperately trying to yank an enraged man off of Frenchie, who was pinned underneath him and screaming for you to do something. Jim eventually stomped over and repeatedly stabbed the attacker in the back, causing him to crumple over right on top of Frenchie. After Jim quickly returned to their combat, you then spent another minute trying to haul the now dead man off of Frenchie, who could barely lift the body an inch off of his chest.

Today, you decided to keep a keener eye on your companion as you boarded a new ship. While Blackbeard did his usual drawn-out and dramatic entrance, you were already watching Frenchie out of the corner of your eye, who was standing beside you. Well, standing the best he could. He was swaying slightly in place, his eyes repeatedly fluttering shut and jolting open again once he realized they had closed. You bit your cheek and turned your attention back to Blackbeard. He was fucked.

It wasn’t long before Blackbeard finished his spiel and the crew leapt into action, eager to slaughter any adversary they could get their hands on. You took a breath to try and calm your nerves before lightly slapping Frenchie on the back in an attempt to wake him up a bit more, rushing forward to join your crewmates soon after. He jumped at the contact and swivelled his head to see who had hit him, when he very suddenly realized that they were, in fact, in the middle of raiding a ship. He cursed under his breath before sluggishly following after you, clumsily setting up his “claws” in his hands.

As blood started to spill, you saw Frenchie perk up, whirling around to stare at a man who had just recently been felled by Fang. What he failed to notice was another man coming up behind him, sword drawn and ready to strike. You were quick to cross the deck towards the two, slicing a gash into the man’s chest without hesitation before turning to Frenchie. He was about to lunge for the body when you caught the scruff of his jacket, yanking him back. “Are you fuckin’ mental?” You hissed, struggling to keep Frenchie in place.

“Wh-huh? No, no, I’m good,” he slurred, his eyes locked onto the body as his tongue darted out to wet his lips. You groaned, slapping his face lightly. That caught his attention and his head snapped back to look at you with a glare. You paid the nasty look no mind, pulling Frenchie slightly closer to you as your face darkened with annoyance.

“Behave,” you growled before letting go of his jacket to twirl around and deflect an oncoming sword with your own. Frenchie rolled his eyes, mumbling something about how he wasn’t a dog and that he could control himself, gracelessly lunging at another poor sailor soon after.

You had just knocked the sword out of your opponent's hand when you heard the tear of flesh and the choked scream that could only be accredited to Frenchie’s handy work. When you turned around to check on him, he was salivating above the bleeding man with wide, unfocused eyes. He almost got a bite in had you not immediately abandoned your own scuffle to drag him away from the dying man once again.

The raid turned into one big game of keep away between you and Frenchie, much to your dismay. You’d turn your back on him for a second to focus on not being killed, and when you looked back at him a moment later, he’d be hovering over another dead or dying body that you inevitably had to yank him back from, and the process would repeat. You were starting to worry that it looked far too suspicious to be normal, but not much was normal about the crew anyway with the way they ripped apart seamen and pirates alike.

Speaking of, the crew had torn this ship’s crew to shreds in record time, and soon everyone was standing in piles of blood, guts, and gore of their own making. Not a single soul was left alive aboard that ship.

You stopped your fretting over Frenchie for a second as you took in the sight of both the countless bodies that littered the bloodied deck, and the numb faces of your crewmates. Your heart sunk in your chest for a brief moment; the crew couldn’t keep doing this for much longer. The heavy footsteps of Blackbeard spurred you from your grief, instinctively yanking Frenchie back to your side after he had tried (and failed) to sneak over to another body.

Blackbeard’s cold gaze studied the crew, tilting his head slightly before speaking: “Alright, collect the plunder and let’s move on, lads.” His nonchalant voice cut through the melancholy mood of the crew like a hot knife, everyone flinching slightly before being quickly propelled into action. You huffed as you watched Blackbeard retreat to the confines of the Revenge, slowly turning to look at Frenchie with an agitated glare. He faltered under your gaze, taking on the expression and posture of a kicked puppy.

“You owe me big time,” you grumbled, poking an accusing finger into Frenchie’s chest. Before he could get a single apology or excuse in, you practically dragged Frenchie–who had started frequently stumbling as he walked–off of the raided ship and onto the Revenge. Despite your annoyance, you were quick to offer your support to him, letting him lean on you as the two of you trudged off that damned ship. He had protested, saying that you two had to haul treasure, but you knew he’d drop it anyway and kept walking.

It was hard to stay mad at Frenchie, it really was. The longer you walked in silence, the more guilty you felt about the whole situation.

You brought him down to his room and sat him on the bed, eying him warily as he flopped over onto the mattress and groggily blinked up at the ceiling. “So what exactly happens if you don’t drink blood for a long time?” You started, nervously wringing your hands out as you sat on the other end of the bed.

“Umm, I d-don’t know for sure,” he muttered, his head lolling from side to side as he struggled to keep himself awake, “I th-think I dry up and die or something.” You weren’t sure about the dying part, but you had noticed his cheeks becoming increasingly hollow over the past couple of days.

Again, you couldn’t help but feel like this was your fault. If you had just ignored that stupid gap in the wall, the crew never would have found out. You sighed, bouncing your knee nervously as you thought of what to do.

��Well, you did have an idea in mind, but you weren’t sure about going through with it.

Your mouth started moving on its own before you could really think the idea through: “What if I…” you paused, biting your lip with uncertainty. When Frenchie looked up at you with big eyes and that stupid pout, you knew you’d lost.

“What if I let you… feed on me?” You mumbled, your words hardly above a whisper, but Frenchie heard them loud and clear. He nearly jumped you, actually, taking hold of your shoulders and leaning forward with dizzying speed.

“Really? Like right now?” He exclaimed suddenly, sounding more energetic than he had in days. You grimaced, averting your gaze before sighing in defeat.

“I suppose. Can’t have my napping buddy shrivelling up on me now, can I?” You joked nervously, but it went right over Frenchie’s head as he grinned brightly.

“Oh my God, you’re the best!” He praised, engulfing you in a tight embrace. You wheezed, patting his back with a strained smile on your face.

“Yep. No problem,” you huffed, struggling to breathe, “just, uh, give me a sec to gather myself, yeah?” Frenchie nodded, willing to go along with anything to let him feed on you at this point. You sighed heavily, scooting backwards on the bed and leaning up against the wall, unbuttoning a few of your shirt’s top buttons to expose more of your shoulder.

“N-nothing too obvious, okay? Below the neck, preferably,” you stammered, watching warily as Frenchie practically foamed at the mouth. You straightened your back slightly, your fingers digging nervously into the tattered sheets of Frenchie’s bed as he slowly crawled on after you. It was… extremely creepy, with the way his eyes were blown wide and his lethargic movements mimicking that of a cat stalking its prey.

“Yeah, yep, ‘course,” he replied mindlessly, drawing closer and closer to you. He positioned himself dangerously close to the junction between your neck and shoulder, his warm breath fanning against your skin sending a shiver up your spine.

“How much do you think this is gonna hurt?” You questioned to give yourself a distraction, unable to stop yourself from shaking as Frenchie grabbed your shoulders to keep you still. You figured the answer was obvious, but maybe you were overestimating how painful it would be in your mind.

“A lot,” Frenchie stated bluntly before suddenly sinking his fangs into the flesh between your neck and shoulder.

You were not overestimating it.

If anything, you were severely underestimating how much it would hurt, and Frenchie’s blunt statement did nothing to describe the pain you felt.

You had to stop yourself from screaming, quickly slapping your hand over your mouth after a sharp inhale. It felt like two giant needles had just been stabbed into your shoulder, stinging like hell and almost making you queasy enough to pass out. Despite that, you clung to your consciousness, fighting to keep yourself quiet as Frenchie started to drink your blood properly. A cold creeping feeling crawled its way down your spine from your shoulder: it was excruciatingly painful and uncomfortable as you got colder and colder, but you held out for Frenchie’s sake.

Speaking of Frenchie, you couldn’t help but notice how incredibly… intimate this seemed on his part. Forget the location of the bite, Frenchie was making some questionable noises and hums as he continued to feed on you, pushing his body against yours and feverishly grasping at the other side of your neck. You could’ve sworn you saw his eyes roll back, but it was difficult to tell from this angle.

Before you could ponder that thought any longer, you started to get woozy, feeling unnaturally cold. “Frenchie,” you whined weakly, attempting to gently nudge him away. He didn’t budge, pressing himself against you further. You sighed, and with the little strength you had left, pushed against him with all your might. “Frenchie, get off!” You hissed, finally spurring him out of his daze as his fangs withdrew from your flesh. He stumbled backwards from the force, but managed to land on his feet as he was shoved off of the bed.

His breathing was heavy as he stared at you for a few seconds, his mouth parted slightly and his pupils still blown wide. It took a moment for him to process your sorry state before his skittish demeanor returned, gulping in what seemed like awe as he dragged his hands down the back of his neck to try and ground himself. He wasn’t really sure what to do now; usually his “meals” were already dead or dying. Not sure if he should move closer to you again, he could only quietly apologize: “S-sorry, sorry. God, that was…”

“Good?” You heaved, bracing yourself with your hands against your knees while your head was bowed in exhaustion. You stared up at Frenchie through bleary eyes, who had your blood smeared all over his face, looking very pleased with himself because of it.

“Oh, better than good. I haven’t had fresh blood in ages, and yours tasted heavenly.” Frenchie marveled, freezing after his unintentional hushed statement as he stared at you with wide eyes. You did unfortunately hear him, raising a brow at his mortified expression while your lips quirked into a small, teasing smile. His face flushed but he didn’t comment any further on the notion, looking away as his tongue darted out to nervously lick away some of the blood still left on his lips.

Before you could unpack all of that, a splitting migraine invaded your skull, causing your vision to go blurry as you made a strained sound of pain. You tried to hold yourself upright, but you could feel yourself quickly tipping forward from the sudden wave of dizziness that hit you.

Before you could fall far, Frenchie had swiftly caught you in his arms with a concerned cry of your name. “Oh Jesus fucking Christ, I haven’t killed you, have I?” You could faintly hear as you clung to your consciousness, trying your best to right yourself to no avail. You could feel yourself being gently picked up and moved slightly, and then placed back down on a soft surface.

“Fuck, fuck, I’ve killed them. What am I gonna tell the crew? Where am I gonna hide the body?” You could hear Frenchie fretting, the guilt finally kicking in for him. You groaned hearing his outlandish thoughts spoken aloud, weakly reaching your hand in his direction.

“I’m not dead, you fucker,” you croaked, trying to blink your heavy eyelids open.

You could hear Frenchie gasp, and a sound that vaguely sounded like something falling to the floor beside you. “I’m so sorry! I don’t know what came over me! I-I got carried away,” he apologized profusely, taking one of your hands in both of his own like you were on your deathbed. You snorted softly, a wobbly smile spreading across your face at the action.

“Relax. I don’t think you could kill me if you tried,” you teased in a weak voice, finally managing to get your eyes open to give him a look. You had expected him to be standing above you, but after a second of your eyes searching the room, you found that he had kneeled down on the floor next to the bed. You had to stop yourself from bursting into laughter at the sight.

Frenchie’s face scrunched up in confusion at your comment before a look of confusion and slight offence overtook it. “What the fuck’s that s’posed to mean? And why are you… giggling?” You managed to laugh weakly at his reaction as you turned your head away, bringing a small smile to Frenchie’s face in the process.

“N-nothing, it’s-” you cut yourself off with more hushed laughter as you looked at him again, bringing your free hand up to cover your mouth in an attempt to stifle your outburst.

“Is it because I’m kneeling? Because I’m worried that I killed my closest friend?” Frenchie taunted, though it was obvious that his words were all playful by the huge grin that spread across his face. You couldn’t stop laughing as he continued to speak, turning away from him to try and hide your face. You had no coherent answer for him, and that only encouraged Frenchie’s teasing.

“Wow. I just… this is unbelievable. I never thought you’d stoop so low, laughing at my… my concern for you,” he snarked, putting a hand on his chest in mock offence.

“Stop, stop! God, it hurts,” you exclaimed through strained giggles, clutching your stomach in pain with a wide grin on your face as your constant laughter started to give you a cramp.

Frenchie hadn’t taken your exclamation the right way initially, thinking that he actually did something to hurt you. His expression dropped almost immediately, trying to figure out what he had done as he started to withdraw his hand from yours. “O-oh, I-”

You were just as quick to snatch his hand back up when you noticed that he had started to pull away, nearly gasping as you did so. “N-no, no! You’re fine, Frenchie. It just hurts to laugh so much,” you explained hastily with a warm smile, easing his concerns.

It had been so long since you’d laughed that hard.

Frenchie’s face lit up with relief, and then quickly turned red with embarrassment. He smiled sheepishly, quite thankful that you had kept his hand in yours as he gave yours a soft squeeze. “Ah, right…”

A comfortable silence fell over the two of you as you laid on his bed, your eyes drifting down to where your hands interlocked. You had taken to idly running your thumb over Frenchie’s knuckles, a soothing gesture that you were focused on.

“B-but seriously; thank you. I, uhm… I needed that.” He mumbled, watching you run your thumbs over his knuckles with a soft expression.

“Yeah, clearly. I mean, fuck, do I even need to mention what just took place during the raid?” You ragged, playfully rolling your eyes as the lightheadedness slowly dissipated from your body. You sat up slowly with Frenchie’s help, hissing quietly as the puncture wounds on between your neck and shoulder were jostled.

Frenchie scoffed exasperatedly, slapping your arm lightly as a light blush spread across his face again. “Will you shut up? It wasn’t that bad.”

You gave Frenchie an unimpressed look, raising your eyebrows. You opened your mouth to rebuke him, but he was quick to shush you before a single sound could come from you.

“I don’t need you to recount it, thank you.”

You laughed again, hesitantly cupping one side of Frenchie’s face with your hand, who was still kneeling on the floor. “You're welcome,” you smiled, pressing a quick kiss to Frenchie’s forehead. He blinked in surprise, inhaling sharply at the soft gesture of affection. A conflicted expression crossed his face as he looked up at you with wide eyes.

”Why… why are you doing this for me, anyways?” He questioned quietly, pouting slightly. You pursed your lips, not exactly sure why you were going to such lengths for him in the first place; you had barely known him for more than a few months, and yet here you were, risking your life for him.

”…Because you’re my friend, and that’s what friends do,” you answered hesitantly, still not totally confident in your reasoning.

Frenchie seemed to catch onto this, looking amused as he raised a brow at you: “Yeah, because normal people are always letting their vampire friends feed on them.”

You groaned, dragging a hand down your face. “Shut up. I just care about you, okay? Is that illegal now? Am I going to be arrested?” You argued playfully, rolling your eyes.

Frenchie chuckled, still not quite content with your answer. “You care about a vampire? A monster?”

”I do. Shoot me,” you snapped sarcastically, choosing not to comment on his monster classification just yet. That seemed like a completely different problem to unpack, and you were too exhausted—both physically and mentally—to properly address it just yet.

Frenchie barked out another laugh, finally dragging himself off of the floor to sit next to you on the bed. “Okay, whatever you say, you weirdo,” he finally caved, dropping the subject for now. You snorted at his name calling, shaking your head with a smile.

Frenchie’s eyes drifted back to the puncture wounds at the base of your neck, wincing at how deep they were. They weren’t bleeding, but there was blood smeared around the area from how hurriedly he was feeding. Heat rose to his face again at the thought, but he quickly tried to distract himself from it by getting up to get a rag and some bandages.

”Let’s get you patched up, yeah?” He smiled bashfully at you, nervously wiping at his mouth again in case there was any blood left behind. You chuckled at the gesture, bringing your legs up onto the bed to sit criss crossed.

”That’d be appreciated, yes.”

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lydiaas · 2 years ago

Note

okay, here it is. hopefully, it's not a letdown, lol. but:

MAJOR SPOILER ALERT

FOR THE SUMMER I TURNED PRETTY, BOOK 3:

(The trio are at the summer house, Belly and Conrad are in the car after running an errand for Belly)

“ On the way back home, we passed a fruit stand on the side of the road. I wanted to stop, but I didn’t say so. I guessed Conrad could tell, because he asked, “Want to go back?”

“Nah, that’s okay, we already passed it,” I said.

He made a U-turn on the one-way street.

The fruit stand was a couple of wooden crates of peaches and a sign that said to leave the money in the container. I put in a dollar because I didn’t have change.

“Aren’t you going to have one?” I asked him, wiping off my peach on my shirt.

“Nah, I’m allergic to peaches.”

“Since when?” I demanded. “I’ve definitely seen you eat a peach before. Or peach pie, at least.”

He shrugged. “Since always. I’ve eaten them before, but they make the inside of my mouth itch.”

Before I bit into my peach, I closed my eyes and inhaled the fragrance. “Your loss.”

“I had never had a peach like that before. So perfectly ripe. Your fingers sank into the fruit a little just touching it. I gobbled it up, peach juice running down my chin, pulp dripping all over my hands. It was sweet and tart. A full-body experience, smell and taste and sight.

“This is a perfect peach,” I said. “I almost don’t want to have another one, because there’s no way it can be as good.”

“Let’s test it out,” Conrad said, and he went and bought me another peach. I ate that one in four bites.

“Was it as good?” he asked me.

“Yeah. It was.”

Conrad reached out and wiped my chin with his shirt. It was maybe the most intimate thing anyone had ever done to me.

I felt light-headed, unsteady on my feet.

It was all in the way he looked at me, just those few seconds. Then he dropped his eyes, like the sun was too bright behind me.”

“I sidestepped away from him and said, “I’m gonna buy some more, for Jere.”

“Good idea,” he said, backing away. “I’ll go wait for you in the car.”

I was shaking as I piled peaches into a plastic bag. Just one look, one touch from him, and I was shaking. It was madness. I was marrying his brother.

Back in the car, I didn’t speak. I couldn’t have even if I wanted to. I didn’t have the words. In the quiet of the air-conditioned car, the silence between us felt blaringly loud. So I rolled down my window and fixed my eyes on all the moving objects on my side.

At home, Jeremiah’s car was parked in the driveway. Conrad disappeared as soon as we got into the house. I found Jere napping on the couch, his sunglasses still on his head. I kissed him awake.

His eyes fluttered open. “Hey.”

“Hey. Want a peach?” I asked, swinging my plastic bag like a pendulum. I felt jittery all of a sudden.

Jere hugged me and said, “You’re a peach.”

“Did you know Conrad’s allergic to peaches?”

“Of course. Remember that time he had peach ice cream and his mouth swelled up?”

I broke away and went to wash the peaches. I told myself, there’s nothing to feel guilty about, nothing happened. You didn’t do anything.

I was rinsing peaches in the red plastic colander, shaking excess water off the way I’d seen Susannah do so many times. While the water was running over the peaches, Jeremiah came up behind me and grabbed one, saying, “I think they’re clean now.”

“He lifted himself onto the kitchen counter and bit into the peach.

“Good, right?” I asked him. I held one up to my face and inhaled deeply, trying to clear my mind of all the crazy thoughts.

Jeremiah nodded. He’d already finished it and was lobbing the pit into the sink. “Really good. Did you get any strawberries? I could eat a whole box of strawberries right now.”

“No, just the peaches.”

I put the peaches in the silver fruit bowl, arranging them as nicely as I could. My hands were still shaking. ”

Why do I feel like we're definitely getting this scene in season 3? The intimacy of it all. Thanks for sharing!

#tsitp book spoilers #asks

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lustrumlane · 5 months ago

Text

Stopped Time

The exit from the trial room is a trickle, disjointed and weak as the night drags further on. Pairs and groups split at the door, protecting or avoiding where needed. The makeshift rooms serve as sufficient hideaways when wanted.

As it has, as it will continue on its own schedule: the depths rumble and when you see it again, the Seekers have been given new Glimpses to explore. The witnesses' homes are gone.

For obvious reasons, the reward the four who had entered the Anechoic Chamber had received on completing their test left their minds when they were lead to the body of a friend outside. Of the three remaining, it's Dante who remembers and gathers those willing to return to the Hall of Recollections theater to watch the final unlabeled reel.

It's not the first thing on anyone's mind, but they may as well watch it, shouldn't they? Dwelling on someone else's misery is a welcome escape for most. The reel plays and overtakes the senses.

You’re in the Observatory. There’s no grand telescope and there’s no bed, no blankets laying around and notes scattered messily; this is a room for work. Tables of tools line the walls, and crates of supplies sit stacked in the far corner. You’re in the center of the room, able to turn around like you have in most of these, sitting on some kind of table on top of some other devices. At the top of a stack?

The Moons sit in procession above: another look into that night almost half a decade ago, during the last Crown Solstice.

A young girl sits at a table, tall and willowy in an oversized coat. Her bangs just barely fall over her worried eyes while the rest of her hair is pulled back into a tight bun. She sits over a bronze machine that has wires hooked into a purple crystal. She’s adjusting nodes with a metal pick, sparks shooting out on occasion as she holds two pieces together until they fuse fully.

Across from her sit two figures you recognize from the reel that was in the plaza: the man in the glasses, who is sitting and watching the other two with absolute focus, and the person with the horned helmet on, which you’re certain is just his head now, because the back of it is open with wires pouring out of it and onto the table, also connected to the machine the girl is fiddling with. He’s the most relaxed of the three, drumming his fingers on the table now and again, evidently not having to do much himself.

They’re quiet for a while before the girl finally takes a deep breath, sets the electrical prong down on the table and puts her hands up, “Okay. Done.”

“Done?” The guy with the wires coming out of his head asks, helmet visor lighting up with little dot eyes blinking on to look at her like a machine coming out of sleep mode.

“Done?” The other man repeats as well, sitting up to look at her and her machine closer like it'll offer confirmation.

She nods, more excited as she lets the breath out, “Done!”

The robot pumps his fists, then his small eyes look at the other man, shifting to playful side-eyes, "You look more stressed than her, Asao, LOL."

He sighs, shifting from tense to bothered quickly, "Hurry up, give her the vessel. Whatever you picked."

The robot digs inside his jacket and pulls out a sleek, sporty stopwatch and holds it out to her. “It’s all I have, but it’ll work, right?”

She takes the watch and turns it about, picking back up the tool to pop the back panel off. “Sure, it should. The Curator showed me how to wire these into basically anything.”

“I wish I had something else…” The robot sits back, crossing his arms and drawing the eyes of his visor shut into lines, “At least it has a screen, but try and get me off there fast, okay?”

“It has to be from your time,” Asao says, “for the rest to work. Sorry. We’ll try not to let you sit.”

“All goes right, we shouldn’t have to use it at all,” the girl says, picking the wires off of the crystal with pincers and lifting it to set it inside the watch, leaning close as she starts unfolding the metal frame the battery usually sits in so the conductors touch the gem. “But now, if you’re next… you’ll reboot. Lucky you, mechanical man; what an easy night it would be were we all be blessed with metal heads.”

“You’ll forget basically everything if it actually activates,” Asao adds, “but you won’t be dead. So it’ll be hard to complain.”

“I dunno, I’m pretty good at complaining,” the robot comments, getting the other two to both make faces while he displays happy eyes on his screen.

With the crystal in place, the girl screws the back onto the stopwatch and hands it to Asao, who stands and starts to lead them out.

“I’ll pack this up in case we need it again,” the girl says, coiling the wires of the box up to start putting them away, “You get the rest started, we ought to hurry.”

“Um,” Asao hesitates, but nods, “Alright, we’ll be outside in the shed. Don’t… take too long, okay?”

“Silly,” she says with an endeared sigh, cheering with a wave of the hand, “I’ll be just ten paces behind, okay? Go start your spooky magic, go, go!”

With her cheering, he relaxes and the two leave down the stairs. She turns back to the table, ducking underneath it to pull some cords from the luminous circuits on the wall to wrap them up into the box, picking up what seem to be some extra crystal pieces off the table and setting them into the box as well.

From the table where you sit, you can turn and see a woman walking up the steps past the entryway, messy, short cropped red hair half fallen into her face, cape dragging behind her with a mask set on top of her head, not covering her face. She was in the reel in the garden by the fountain. Her metal shoes click as she enters the observatory proper, approaching.

The young woman turns to face her quickly, stepping in front of the box like she has something to hide, “Marchionne? Did you need someth…?” Her word trails off as she stops and stares at the other woman drawing an elegant longsword with a blade of silver from her side, glinting brilliantly under the room's unnatural light. She’s quick to step away from the table, backing up into the room away from her.

At the stairs, someone else follows her in. The former Curator staggers into the observatory, out of breath as he catches up.

Then it ends. You’re sitting in the Hall of Recollection’s theater again.

It offers possible answers, possible questions, perhaps most enticingly to some, more raw details about what happened that night. At worst, it's something else to think about for a few minutes.

#chapter 4 #ic #machinations

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ythankucaptainmccoy · 3 years ago

Text

Tech x Reader (Fluff)

This was requested by @arsonanddoodles (Happy late Birthdays better late than never lol) for a Tech x Reader Fluff so here it is. I am finishing reading Republic Commandos Order 66 so my uploading is slow. I'm obsessed with the Nulls and the book. I will take requests for any of the Nulls or Commandos from Delta and Omega squad! (P.S. I will be updating my Jango fic! Slowly but surely) Warnings: Near Death Experience, Injuries, Nightmare Mentioned, Slight Panic Attack, Protective Tech and Fluff!

—---------------------------

Another harrowing escape from the clutches of the new empire had the Bad Batch and their newest addition exhausted. “We need to find a place to lay low before we head back to Ord Mantell” Hunter announced. “Why?”, Omega asked. “Because we need to make sure they’re not following us, and I need to put in a new transponder code”, Tech responded. “Tech’s right Omega, the empire is not going to be happy when they find out we rescued a high target prisoner”, (Y/N) agreed.

Omega turned and went to check on Wrecker and the prisoner they had rescued. (Y/N) remained sitting behind Echo stealing glances at Tech. It was no secret that her and Tech were involved with each other. Hunter leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes to nap. It didn’t take Tech long to find a planet that was mostly woodlands. He landed the Marauder gently and opened the ramp so everyone could stretch their legs.

“We can stay here tonight and leave in the morning”, Hunter declared. Everyone nodded as they started to set up a small camp. “Tech do you need help with anything?”, (Y/N) questioned. “No not at the moment, maybe ask Hunter or the others if they need anything”, Tech stated. “Oh okay I’ll be over there if you need anything”, (Y/N) said. She walked over to help Omega scavenge for food in the surrounding area. Hunter nodded as they walked into the forest, but he had no idea what lay in that forest.

“So you like Tech right?”, Omega asked. “Well yeah I do, but I don’t think he likes me back”, (Y/N) sighed. “I think Tech likes you, he just… well he’s Tech. I know that isn’t very helpful, but he does talk about you”, Omega smiled. “Really then what does he say about me?”, (Y/N) questioned. “Well he likes how you laugh and he enjoys your jokes. He says you are the only person he can relax and be himself around. Oh and that you’re a good listener even if you don’t understand what he is saying”, Omega admitted.

(Y/N) was silent for a while until something to her right moved. “Omega hold on something doesn’t feel right”, (Y/N) said. She looked closer at the moving foliage only for a large animal with sharp teeth to jump out and land on her. Omega screamed as (Y/N) clawed at its eyes, but that didn’t stop it from biting her left forearm. (Y/N)’s scream had Tech moving faster than his brothers. He made it to her first automatically pulling his blaster and firing into the animal until it let go and fell over dead.

“(Y/N) mesh’la are you alright?” he asked; checking her for injuries. “I’m fine it’s just a bite”, she said standing up. Tech noticed her sway and scooped her up into his arms carrying her back to the Marauder. “I can walk”, she grumbled. “Yes but in your condition it would be best to rest”, Tech informed her. She was starting to feel light headed and she smiled up at him. “You're so handsome and smart, has anyone ever told you that”, she sighed before placing her head on his shoulder. He hummed as he tried not to look at her because if he did she would see the blush spreading across his cheeks.

Once back at the Marauder he took her straight to a crate where they had set up camp, and sat her down on it. He worked quickly to clean the wound and apologized when she hissed in pain. She watched as he wrapped her arm and tilted her head so he could give her a bacta/pain killer hypo injection. “Thank you”, she smiled. “You’re going to feel very sleepy here in a few minutes so we need to get you to your spot”, he informed her.

He helped her to her spot beside the fire and sat down beside her as she fell asleep. He monitored her breathing and made sure that the bandages were staying clean. She screamed and woke up with a start sitting up. “(Y/N) you’re safe. You’re okay, look at me”, he told her, putting his hand on her shoulder. She slowly looked at him as he talked to her through a breathing exercise. “Tech will you.. Umm will you stay with me? I don't want to be alone”, (Y/N) said.

“Yes I can stay. In fact scoot over”, he said matter of factly. She scooted over and he lay back against the small pack she used as a pillow. “It’s been scientifically proven that the heartbeat of another person can help you sleep more peacefully”, Tech spouted. She lay her head on his chest timidly until he wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her closer. “You know that was a smooth move”, she smiled. “It was not a move, it's a scientific fact”, he sighed.

She sighed as well gathering up some courage she had to know if what Omega had said was true. “You know Omega told me some interesting things about you before I got attacked”, (Y/N) spoke. “What did she say?”, Tech nervously urged. “She said that you like me and that you like how I listen to you. How you like my jokes and you think that I’m funny although I think my jokes are lame”, she mentioned.

He was quiet and (Y/N) felt like she shouldn’t have said anything. Tech could feel her tensing, and he was panicking inside. He had no idea how to talk to women, and usually offended them when they used to go to 79’s. “I’m sorry I made you uncomfortable” she apologized. “No don’t apologize Omega is right I do enjoy your company and how you listen so intently when no one else does. I love your jokes no matter how ridiculous you think they are”, Tech declared.

“Wait so you do like me?”, (Y/N) observed. “Well yes I do, I thought I made that clear when I..hmph”, He was cut off by (Y/N) reaching up to kiss him. It was a short kiss that left him speechless and blushing. He felt his heart beating out of his chest as he tried to remember how to breathe. “I don’t think anyone has ever made Tech speechless before”, Hunter smirked from his spot eyes still closed. Tech glared at him as (Y/N) dissolved into giggles.

“We should get some rest so we don’t end up waking Wrecker, Omega and Echo. We all know how grumpy Echo gets when he doesn’t get his beauty sleep”, (Y/N) whispered. Tech nodded but froze when (Y/N) reached up to take off his goggles. “So you’re the one that takes them off when I fall asleep in the cockpit and work on things”, he yawned. “Yeah I know how they can cause headaches and discomfort. I also like to see your eyes even if you can’t really see me”, she sighed snuggling into him.

He sat there realizing they both confessed to liking each other until he heard her breathing slow. “Goodnight cyar’ika”, he said, kissing the top of her head. He couldn’t believe what had just transpired earlier and he thought about it even as he fell asleep. Hunter peeked an eye open and chuckled to himself as he remembered how it was when (Y/N) first joined them and how Tech would stutter and panic when he didn’t know how to respond to her joking. He hadn’t assigned watches as Tech’s new perimeter beacons would alert if someone or something got too close and fell asleep.

Tech woke first as he heard the others laughing, especially Wrecker as Hunter told them how he and (Y/N) confessed their feelings. “Do you all mind she is still sleeping and it's imperative that she get as much rest as possible so she can heal”, Tech seethed. “Man with a look like that you would give Crosshair a run for his money”, Echo huffed, rolling his eyes. Tech grabbed his goggles and put them on, careful not to wake (Y/N), but it was no use as he felt her stirring.

“Morning mesh’la”, he greeted. “Mmm mornin”, she slurred still half asleep. (Y/N) stretched and got up then helped Tech up. “Come on we need to help them pack up”, she yawned. “No not until I have changed your bandages”, Tech commanded. “We can do it after we get everything packed and we are in space, and don’t even think about talking back to me loverboy”, (Y/N) countered as she started packing up. Wrecker laughed at Tech’s somewhat appalled look of being told off, but shrugged it off as (Y/N) was known to speak her mind.

They packed up and Tech noticed that (Y/N)’s bandage had fresh blood coming through it. He held his tongue until they were up in the reaches of space then went to find her as he left Echo to pilot the ship. (Y/N) was sitting on his bunk with the med kit open beside her. “I figured you would want to tend to the injury so I waited”, she grinned. Every time she grinned or smiled he felt like he was having heart palpitations, but he liked it and that scared him.

“I’ll give you another bacta hypo and then apply some bacta salve to coat the wound”, he told her. She nodded and watched him adoringly as he carefully unwrapped her arm and applied the salve. The salve was cool but still burned as she hissed. Tech’s head whipped up as he grimaced noticing he was causing her pain. “Tech it’s okay you have to do this. It’s not your fault that the bacta stings”, she forced a smile. He relaxed some and re-wrapped her arm then grabbed the hypo.

She automatically turned her head so he could get the hypo into her neck. “Well that should get you through until we get to Ord Mantell”, Tech announced. He helped her to her feet and kissed the top of her head. “Maybe I can help you pilot today?”, she asked. (Y/N) had been wanting to pilot the Marauder since she joined the Bad Batch, but she knew how Tech felt about others piloting his pride and joy. “I think that can be arranged”, he smirked. (Y/N) squealed, reaching up on her toes to press a quick kiss to his cheek.

(Y/N) took off to the cockpit as Tech stood there trying to calm his rapidly beating heart. He was brought out of his daze as (Y/N) called from the cockpit. It was an easy flight back to Ord Mantell and he was impressed with how well she did even how gentle the landing was. “You did well, maybe you should be our new pilot a lot nicer to look at”, Echo joked. Tech rolled his eyes as (Y/N) laughed.

“As much as I would love to, I would rather watch Tech fly, it's much more entertaining”, she said, nudging his arm with her elbow. Tech smiled, “Well maybe we can let you fly on the easy missions”. They laughed and jeered until they were able to deliver their new ally to Rex at Sid’s bar. Sid let them have drinks on the house and Tech watched (Y/N) drink her fill and then take off back for the Marauder.

“I think you should have an escort back”, Tech told her. He took her hand in his and she blushed, not used to it and influenced a little by the alcohol. Once back at the Marauder he let her change and then he stripped his armor off down to his blacks. “Alright bandage change and more bacta before bed”, Tech scolded. “I hoped you had forgotten”, (Y/N) grinned, swinging her legs over the bunk.

“Not a chance”, he replied. “So Tech I was wondering”, (Y/N) started. He hummed informing her to continue as he got the bandage off and started to apply more bacta. “Well would you like to be in a relationship… you know with me? Like a girlfriend boyfriend type relationship? If so I would like to take it slow”, she rambled. He froze for a moment as he mulled over her words. He didn’t know how to be in a relationship. This wasn’t a part of his training. Should he even respond?

She held her breath as he seemed to think about it. “I believe I would like that and taking it slow would be good since I wasn’t trained for relationships”, he responded as he started to bandage again. “Nobody is trained for relationships Tech”, she laughed. There was that fluttering feeling in his chest again, but it was starting to become normal the more it happened and he liked it. “All done, you should rest now”, he smiled up at her.

“Okay but only if you join me. It really helped me sleep last time”, she yawned. He nodded and climbed up into his bunk then helped her up. She lay her head on his chest just like before, and he waited for her breathing to slow. “Night Tech love you”, she slurred before she fell asleep. “Night love you too cyar’ika”, he yawned, falling asleep as well. When the others returned they smiled at (Y/N) glued to Tech’s side with her head on his chest and Tech’s arm holding her tightly to him.

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Alright sorry it was so late getting this out, but here it is and I hope y’all enjoy it. Like I said, my ask box is open and I plan on doing a Mereel Skirata oneshot or story (not sure yet), and I will be updating my Jango fic as soon as I have time!

#bad batch tech #the bad batch #tech x reader #tech x reader fluff #all of the fluff #two idiots in love

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dindadjarin · 4 years ago

Text

Reunited

pairing: captain rex x Jedi!gn reader

word count: somewhat over 5k (im sorry)

warnings: none, just some diet angst and maybe some typos

summary: you and Rex both thought the other to be gone for good, but fate brings you together once again to prove you otherwise. A chance you thought was lost appears again and you must decide if you’ll take it or not.

AN: OK Y’ALL I know I said many times that I would post this and then I never do but hear me out. I intended to post this the week after TBB episode 7 came out but I got sick™️ my brain could not think of or type a single word for a week. Then life got busy with work problems and it took me another week to finish this. BUT I’m happy I can share with you now. So here you go, a shiny new Rex fic that I hope you like. Enjoy! (gif by @obihoekenobi not mine lol I cant gif)

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The Marauder makes a smooth decent into the Ord Mantell space port –a very welcome change after being tossed around the ship while trying to get away from Rhokai. Ruby, the lizard you stole from the Rhokai —named by Omega— moves restlessly around her cage. Hopefully she’ll end up in good hands once Cid delivers her to whoever is paying for the bounty. You’re still not sure what to make of the Trandoshan, but she’s been hospitable so far. At least hospitable enough to let clone deserters, Omega and a Jedi stay with her. Still, after what happened at the end of the Clone Wars, you’re not one to be trusting when it comes to strangers.

Everyone gathers their things by the hatch and wait for the familiar hiss of it opening to start their descent. When you don’t go to the main hatch, Omega and Echo being the last ones to head out, turn back to look at you.

“You’re not coming with us?” Omega asks you after calling your name, which makes you shake your head no while sending a soft smile her way.

“No, you go ahead.” You stand up from the seat in front of the main computer and run your hand over her head. “I’ll stay behind for a bit, I’ll meet you back at Cid’s later.”

“Ok!” The kid smiles. “Say bye to Ruby.”

You chuckle and decide to amuse her by crouching in front of the cage. “Goodbye Ruby, take care wherever you go.” You send the lizard a wave before standing up once more.

“We’ll see you later then.” Echo nods at you, the look in his eyes shows he knows why you’re staying behind. You return his nod with one of your own before turning around and heading to the back of the ship.

The floor is littered with ration crumbs, used socks and cables. Even Omega’s bad batcher had managed to find its way under a heavy crate. “I don’t even know why we’ve got you here Gonky, when all the trash is just thrown on the floor.”

The droid makes a sound that sounds a lot like an agreement. It prompts a chuckle out of you as you keep picking things up and placing them where they should be. You put Tech’s cables back on his bunk bed, the laundry on its bin, and the rest of the trash inside Gonky who beeps happily. Once everything is back in order and the Marauder resembles a ship more than a junkyard, you clean your hands and make your way to a seat at the front of the ship. Your feelings had been all over the place lately, not that anyone notices, but you needed some time to meditate.

It’s important for you to find some peace in the midst of the chaos and the nervousness creeping up your neck whenever Wrecker gets a headache. Just as you’re about to sit down though, you remember Omega’s bad batcher, stuck under a crate in the back. You sigh and turn back around, better to help the poor trooper and leave it in Omega’s room, than having her and Wrecker move everything around later trying to find it.

You haven’t been travelling with the Bad Batch for a long time –you found them in Pantora only a few rotations back, when you had recognized Hunter at a pawn shop. Still, you’ve grown fond of them in your time together. They really are a family, with the bickering, the laughter and the care that makes you feel glad to come back every day. You had worked together before, when the batch helped your battalion on some missions during the clone wars, so it was a relief to see a familiar face in when you were all alone. You knew it was a risk to even call out to the Sergeant in the shop, not knowing if his chip would be active or not, but it was that or being on the run and jumping from one transport to another.

It was reassuring really, to know their chips didn’t function as those in other troopers did. Like the soldiers in your own battalion, your friends…

Shaking yourself from those bad memories, you make your way back to where you saw Omega’s toy. It’s under 2 crates behind some cargo boxes, that you start to rearrange. You move the first one with ease towards another pile, but when you lift the second crate and save the trooper, the bracelet on your right hand gets stuck on the crate it comes loose when you stand up.

“Dank farrik!” You whisper to yourself, putting the trooper aside and crouching down to get your bracelet back on. Upon closer inspection, it was only the brown leather cord that had come loose, the beautiful blue stone tied to the middle was still intact. “Thank the Maker.” You’re relieved to say the least, when you tie the bracelet back on your hand and rub the stone softly as it sits on your wrist.

It’s a reminder of the past, of the war that just ended in such a gruesome way, and a reminder of him. Rex.

The captain had given you the stone when he had come back from an underwater mission in Mon Calamari. He’d said he found it in the ocean and knew that if you’d been there, you would have picked it up as well. You had ignored his flustered expression to save him from further embarrassment and thanked him softly –all while your heart fluttered as your fingers brushed. Private interactions were always like that with him, shy and hidden as it had to be.

Even when feelings kept growing between you, they were kept under lock and key for the sake of the war. There was no time for it and it wouldn’t have been seen right. So it was a secret when you worked together and it remains a secret even now… he’s dead and you never got to say it, it’s like the two of you never had a chance.

The pain in your throat is familiar to you as you try to keep your tears at bay. You sit there on the floor of the Marauder and curse fate for sending you off to different missions before the end of the war. Now you live with the regret in your conscience, all the pain that comes with it and newfound guilt at the thought of your travels with the Bad Batch. You’re endangering them, and Omega, by being part of the crew.

What if you are recognized, what if someone hurts them to get to you? One thing is for sure, you must talk to Cid and find a way to leave on your own. Perhaps you can go to a secluded planet and work for Cid when she needs you, or you’ll stay in Ord Mantell. Whatever the plan is though, you know for sure that it must be alone –if someone’s ever going to get hurt because you’re a Jedi, that’ll be you. You unclip your lightsaber and throw it to the back of the ship in frustration, to think you believed things to be complicated before.

You let yourself cry for a few more minutes, and then meditate on your decision to leave the Batch for a couple more before you stand up, take your datapad on the way, and leave the ship. You close the hatch with your vambrace and make your way out of the port and towards Cid’s bar. The streets are dirty like you left them and somewhere far ahead a pipe has broken and it’s slowly filling the street with water. Sighing, you decide to take the the route through the market to avoid the small flood and your frown is immediately replaced by a smile when you see Omega and Wrecker enjoying two boxes of Mantell mix.

Omega spots you first and waves, which gets Wrecker’s attention. He calls your name and waves you over. “We have Mantell Mix!” He points enthusiastically to it as you approach the two.

“Best part of the mission!” Says Omega, offering you some. “You’ve got to try it.”

You chuckle and oblige, picking some of it and chewing it carefully. The sweet and salty taste is delicious, and you immediately know why the two have become addicted to it. “It’s delicious!” You tell them, and then a thought crosses your mind. “Have you paid for these?”

Wrecker chuckles, “We put them on Cid’s tab! It’s fine.”

“If you say so…” You shrug. If Cid hasn’t said anything yet, then it’s probably fine. “I’ll see you two back at the bar. Enjoy.”

“Bye!” Omega waves for a second before becoming engrossed with the sweet treat in front of her once more.

Though your smile is small it stays on your face as you turn right at the familiar alleyway leading to the underground bar. It continues to be there as you examine the art covering the walls next to the stairs, but it dies quickly when you reach the bottom and see the people sitting by the bar. There, between Echo and Hunter is Rex? In a poncho?

You drop the data pad you were holding, and it clatters when it falls on the floor, the sound loud in the silence that has fallen over the group. Your eyes meet Rex’s, and you can’t form a single word. The air you had inhaled is stuck in your chest. “You’re- What?” Your mind can’t form a single word other than his name, especially when he stands from his chair and whispers yours.

“I thought you were dead. How? Are you travelling with them? Are you… okay?” The captain seems to ask question after question that you can’t pay your full attention to. Not when he’s looking at you like that, with genuine concern in his kind eyes. Not when he’s alive in front of you.

You throw all caution to the wind, then, and get over your initial shock to walk over to where he stands and put your arms around him. The confirmation that he is standing right there in your arms, is enough to make a shaky breath leave your lips as you place your cheek on his shoulder.

“Rex.” You whisper. The captain tenses for a second before his arms circle your waist and hugs you just as tightly. These are his brothers, you suppose, that’s why he’s letting his guard down.

When you step back, you can’t help but smile widely at the man in front of you. “Rex, I thought you were dead. You’re okay… but how?” You spot a scar on the side of his head and run your thumb carefully over it. It must be where he removed his chip from, otherwise he would’ve killed you on sight. The Captain, with his back to the rest of the group, closes his eyes for a second at your touch before he smiles softly.

“He is listed as dead according to the Empire’s records. And you are presumed dead according to your previous battalion’s reports.” Tech chimes in from his seat on the bar.

You chuckle and shake your head, still looking into the Rex’s eyes. “It’s so good to see you.”

“I could say the same thing. I thought I’d… never see you again.” His eyes scan your face, a small smile gracing his features as he does so. Then he spots your new set of clothes and raises an eyebrow at you. “Nice overalls.”

“Nice poncho.” You tease him back, motioning to the brown piece of clothing covering his armour. “My old clothes gave me away, I blend in better this way.” The shrug you offer his way is shy as his gaze never leaves you. You suppose it’s fair as yours can’t focus on anything else but him.

“It suits you.” He says softly, his head tilting slightly to the right as you share yet another long gaze.

“Well look who it is!” Wrecker laughs as he reaches the bottom of the stairs, startling you both and making you turn to look at the excited trooper. Omega follows him closely behind and seems surprised to see another clone at the bar. “Come here, Rex!” Wrecker says loudly as he moves past you and hugs the captain.

“I thought you didn’t like regs.” Omega questions with a tilt of her head but Wrecker merely laughs as he picks Rex up.

“This one we like.”

You chuckle to yourself at the look Rex sends your way before you move to stand by Echo.

“So… you and Rex are still a thing.” Echo states, keeping his voice low for the conversation to remain private. He glances to his right at you before taking a sip from his drink.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You smile as Rex kneels in front of Omega, speaking softly to her. He’s here, he’s alive.

“Oh, please. Everyone knew back then that the two of you had feelings for each other. Don’t tell me you’re still pretending you’re just friends.” Echo rolls his eyes when you look away guiltily. “I thought you would have said something by now.”

“It’s complicated, okay. There’s never any time.” You shrug, looking at the captain with longing –wishing things had been different back then.

Wrecker’s groan keeps Echo from saying anything else, and the way he clutches his head in pain makes a nervous shiver creep up the back of your neck. Rex stands up, and there’s weariness in his eyes. “What’s wrong?” His voice is low and controlled, assessing the trooper in front of him.

“Nothing it’s just a headache.” Wrecker dismisses Rex’s question, but you don’t miss the way Rex moves to stand protectively in front of Omega.

Echo speaks up next, “Which are becoming more frequent.”

This only intensifies Rex’s worry, shown in his furrowed eyebrows, while his right hand reaches for something at his side. You immediately know he’s reaching for one of his pistols. “Is that so?” Rex asks skeptically.

There’s a new tension in the room and even Omega is nervous by the sudden change. The relaxed mood and demeanour of the group is gone, and now everyone is in high alert. Rex glances at you before his left hand gently holds your forearm so he can slowly pull you behind him in a protective manner.

Tech goes on about the chips and how they’re not functional except for Crosshair’s case. But you know what Rex is thinking – it’s the same thing you’ve avoid thinking –Wrecker’s headache might be linked to the chip becoming functional.

Rex makes sure to shield both you and Omega as he addresses the group. “You’re telling me you haven’t removed your chips?”

“No.” Is all Tech says and the nonchalance in his tone strikes a nerve in the captain making you step closer to him.

“Rex it’s okay, we’re all fine. Nothing’s happened so far.”

But Rex’s demeanour has changed, he’s in battle mode now and you know it. He reaches for his pistol then, the blaster fully in display now, which prompts Hunter to try and mediate the situation and avoid any further escalation.

“Rex....” Hunter warns.

You know why Rex is so weary –he sounds almost scared. He must have witnessed soldiers with a fully functional chip too, just as you had, and that’s something that can shake up anyone. That, and the fact that you’re a Jedi, so you’re in danger as well as Omega should the chips activate. You had been alright so far, but Rex doesn’t let his guard down.

“Those chips make you a threat to everyone around you. To them.” He motions to you, his free hand grabbing your forearm protectively again before he motions to Omega. “Even her. You’re all ticking time bombs.”

When he doesn’t remove his hand from the pistol Hunter tries to calm him down again. “Take it easy, captain.” The Sargent holds out his hand as he speaks.

“Rex, it’ll be fine.” You try to reassure him, but when he looks back at you there’s concern pooling in his eyes.

“What’s in their heads is more dangerous than you can imagine.” He tells you before addressing the troopers. “I’ve seen what happens when the chip activates, and I don’t want to bury any more of our brothers, or Jedi.”

He looks at you again in the last part and you swallow thickly. Your mind takes you back to the day you escaped the clone troopers that had turned against you despite fighting for years by your side. The troopers that became your family.

“Trust me. It’s not something you can control.” There’s a pause where he looks away from the group. “I couldn’t.”

There’s a strong wave of distress, pain, and guilt coming off of Rex, all these things swimming in his mind. You place your hand on his shoulder wishing nothing more but to comfort him. “It wasn’t your fault, Rex.” You whisper.

Rex looks over his shoulder at you and his eyes soften, as if he needed to hear those words. Then he turns back to the troopers, his voice calmer but still hiding an urgent undertone.

“Hunter, this is a risk you don’t want to take.” He says finally and you see Omega is looking up at Rex nervously, he still has a hand on the pistol. Her weariness disappears quickly though, when he stands up straight again at the nod he receives from Hunter.

“How do you suggest we get them out?” Hunter says finally, seemingly convinced, and worried about Rex’s warning. He always looks out for his brothers.

“Good question. I need some answers first.” He nods. “I’ll be in touch.”

The Bad Batch nod their heads and you drop your hand from his shoulder. You gaze away from everyone as your heart starts to beat loudly with anxiety on your chest. He’s leaving again… you just found him and he’s leaving.

Rex speaks your name quietly, stopping your train of thought. “May I have a word with you?”

You meet his eyes once more and nod. “Always.”

The captain holds your shoulder gently as he walks to the two of you further away from the group, his voice stays low as he speaks. “I…uh wish you could come with me and not stay behind. Wrecker’s chip, it worries me, especially if you’re around him. But I don’t know where I’ll have to go to get this information. I’d hate it if anyone spots you or hurts you when you’re trying to lay low.”

“I’ll be fine, Rex, please don’t worry. I have been so far, no?” You raise an eyebrow, pretending your heart isn’t hurting at the thought of him leaving. You pointedly ignore how your chest flutters at his concern too, his tone reminding you of when you had to say goodbye before missions. “Besides I can defend myself should anything happen.”

“You know that if all the chips activate there’s a big chance you can get hurt. The kid too.” Rex furrows his eyebrows, his gaze leaves yours to look at the floor instead. “Of course, I worry, even if you can handle yourself. You’re okay, after everything that happened. I thought I lost you back then… I just don’t want it to happen for real.”

“I understand. You’re lying low too, and last thing you need is a Je- well someone like me with you…” You hold his face softly and his gaze back to yours. You smile, trying to ease his worry. “We’ll have their chips out in no time. It’ll all work out, just go, I’ll be okay.”

“Please take care.” He says seriously, stepping closer to you. His right hand reaches out but stops just before touching your face, like he changed his mind at the last minute. “Take care of the kid too. And if you need anything or anything happens you can find me on this comm channel.” He gently grabs your hand holding his face and inserts a code on your vambrace, he doesn’t let go when he’s done.

“You be careful too, Rex. Please.” Your thumb rubs the back of his hand, and he responds with a squeeze. It’s like neither of you want to let go, your hands clinging to each other in fear you won’t see the other again.

The captain gives you a small smile, his beautiful eyes showing so many emotions like you’ve never seen before. Emotions you know are mirrored in your own eyes. “I will. I hope to contact you soon.”

He nods at the rest of the Bad Batch before he lets go of your hand and walks to the door. He stops by the entrance and looks at you over his shoulder once last time before he finally goes up the stairs.

You keep your gaze in the doorway for a few more minutes before turning around. When you do, the Batch is staring at you, Tech and Wrecker seem confused, but Hunter and Echo give you knowing looks that have you looking away.

“What?” You try to ignore their staring as you sit by the bar.

“You like him!” Omega says smiling and taking a seat next to you.

You’re open your mouth to say something, but Echo takes a seat next to you and says your name in a matter-of-fact tone. “You’re in love with him and so is he. It’s pretty obvious.”

“Woah!” Wrecker gasps, jumping over the counter to stand in front of you. He leans his chin on both of his hands as he looks at you in wonder, headache forgotten. “You and Rex are together?”

You shake your head. “No, we’re not together.”

“But you don’t deny being in love with him.” Hunter says, leaning against the counter on your right side, behind Omega. “When did that happen?”

“It’s story time then.” You sigh, leaning your chin on your palm as you look at your friends staring at you expectantly. When Tech reaches the spot next to Wrecker who stands in front of you, you shake your head and tell them about you and the captain.

“Rex’s Legion worked with mine in many occasions. We worked really well together and in that grew a friendship.” You look down at the blue stone of your bracelet and smile. “We kept in touch even while in different missions, spent our days off together and our feelings just... sparked.”

You can’t think of a different word to describe how fast your feelings for the captain had developed. From stolen glances to laughing with him, it all led ultimately to you falling in love with Rex. His smile, his heart, the empathy and intelligence with which he spoke and acted, captivated your heart until you knew it would forever be his.

“We haven’t said anything, and nothing ever happened. I was a general, there was a war going on, so we pretended to be just friends in front of everyone. Which is technically what we were… we never acted upon our feelings.” Another sigh leaves your lips and you’re not sure when your vision has started to blur, but you shake your head to clear your thoughts and shrug at your friends.

“There’s no war now, you can tell him how you feel.” Omega says, placing a hand on your forearm.

“The kid’s right. We haven’t seen you smile so much before. Not like you did from the moment you saw Rex again.” Hunter speaks up too. “I think you two would benefit from being honest about your feelings.”

“I tried to tell them that!” Echo nudges your shoulder with him. “You make him happy.”

“You should tell him.” Omega repeats and you smile softly at her before looking down at the counter top.

“Perhaps.”

-----

The next time you see Rex is one rotation later, after he contacts and requests all of you to meet him in Bracca. You had given Echo the coordinates and anxiously waited next to him until your arrival while the rest of the crew watched Tech build an inhibitor chip scanner. Thankfully, wrecker’s chip hasn’t come online but the intensity of his headaches only keeps growing, which makes goosebumps appear on your arms whenever you think about it. It’s like flashbacks from Order 66 come back to you, memories of fleeing while your friends chased and shot at you. You stop the dark memories when you hear Echo say your name.

“Are you okay?” He asks with genuine concern. “You look troubled.”

You sigh and shake your head. “I’m alright. It’s just that this whole inhibitor chip thing reminds me of what happened the day the war ended.”

“You’re safe here, you know that.” His left hand reaches out to pat your shoulder. “No need to worry about Wrecker, he’ll be good as new soon.”

“I guess you’re right.” You shrug. “How much longer until we get to Bracca?”

“Shouldn’t take very long.” He says before he raises an eyebrow your way. “Why? ‘You excited to see Rex again.”

“Echo stop it.” You shake your head, but you decide to be honest with him. “But yes, I can’t believe he’s okay.”

There must be something about your tone when you tell Echo this that his gaze softens. “The two of you have been through a lot together. It was a given that you’d see each other again, fate keeps bringing you together.”

You chuckle and look out of the window. “Everything is so uncertain though.” The words are mumbled but Echo hears them.

He looks at you for a long moment before he stares straight ahead once more. “There will always be uncertainty, don’t let that stop you from doing what you want.” Is all he says, before announcing you’re dropping out of hyperspace.

The moment the Maurauder lands on Bracca, you can spot Rex’s ship and go down the hatch behind Hunter to meet the captain outside. He meets you halfway with a smile on his face and you stop on your tracks for a moment because of the lovely sight in front of you. The sun is bathing him in warmth, his eyes turning another beautiful shade of brown with it. You also can’t keep your heart from skipping a beat at the familiar sight of him in uniform, his helmet held by his side.

“Right on time.” Rex says shaking Hunter’s hand. “General.” He approaches you and offers a nod –you can’t help but to roll your eyes with a smile.

“The Jedi Order is no more Rex, you don’t have to call me General anymore.” You shrug looking into his eyes. “Besides, I like it better when you use my name.”

Rex chuckles at your words and scratches the back of his neck in a flustered manner. “It’s a habit I guess.”

“How is a junk planet gonna help us?” Wrecker asks when he approaches the group, making everyone look back at him first and then to Rex for the answer.

“Bracca may not be much to look at, but it has exactly what we need. Follow me.” The captain puts his helmet back on and starts to lead the way through the junk until you’re climbing what seems the underside of a wrecked ship, the height of the metal scrap gives you a perfect view of a Jedi Cruiser sitting in the distance.

“That is why we’re here.” Rex states, pointing at the cruiser. “I had my chip removed on a Jedi Cruiser just like that.”

“Then why did we land all the way over here?” Wrecker asks.

You ponder Wrecker’s question in your mind for a few seconds and conclude that there might be something or someone out there you must hide from. If you had flown the Marauder directly into the Jedi Cruiser, they would’ve notice you right away.

“Get down!” Hunter says, after spotting something in the distance. Everyone crouches to keep out of sight and Rex when you follow Hunter’s gaze you confirm what you had just concluded.

“That’s why.” Rex points at two scrappers standing on a platform. “Scrapper Guild, they control the entire planet.”

Nobody says anything else as you walk to the Jedi Cruiser with new resolve not to be spotted. The familiar sight brings fresh memories to mind, the old briefings, the trooper fights in the cafeteria, that you may or may not have aided, and the missions with the captain currently leading the way. As you get closer to the ship, Rex tells Omega about its model and how it was one of the first ever produced, which amazes the young clone. This seems to entertain Wrecker as well who can’t help but joke about Rex’s shared information.

“First of the line, just like you. Huh Rex?” The trooper chuckles at his own joke and you shake your head, walking along until you catch up with Rex.

“I trust you mission went smoothly?” You ask him, squinting your eyes at the sun.

The captain’s helmet looks your way for a second before it tilts to the side as he shrugs –a body language you’re familiar with. “You could say that. It wasn’t easy but I got the information I needed.”

You remember the pain and guilt that came off him in waves back at the bar and you frown. Unsure of what he went through but remembering what he mentioned about not burying anymore of his brothers, you doubt the captain is as calm and collected as he appears on the outside. So you ask, “And how are you?”

Rex sighs, “Life… is different now, being on the run, but I’ll get used to it. What’s most important now is to make sure the Empire doesn’t get away with what they did to us, to the Jedi…” He straightens his shoulders and looks ahead but you know him, the foundation of what he fought for just crumbled to the ground one day and it must have affected him more than he leads on.

“How did you find out about the chips?” You ask trying to change the subject for the time being. The last thing you want is to rub salt on a fresh wound. You have plenty of those yourself.

“Fives tried to warn me about the chips, but I didn’t understand at the time.” He shakes his head and looks over to Echo who has fallen into step next to the two of you.

“It’s still hard to believe now.” Echo tells Rex, and you know he’s trying to let Rex know that it’s okay if he didn’t either when Fives told him, something you know Rex would hate himself for– even now. You give Echo a comforting smile, placing your hand on his shoulder at the mention of his close friend.

Everyone reaches the cruiser without another word, and as all of you wander through debris filled hallways, Echo and Rex talk about how he got his chip out. You listen in silence, staying alert of your surroundings while still going over the thoughts circling your mind. You remember Rex leaving with to Mandalore Ahsoka– that was the last time you saw him– and you wonder if Ahsoka helped him with the chip removal. If she did, you hope she’s alive so you can thank her if you ever get the chance. The conversation dies once again when you reach the end of the hallway, as it is divided in half by a chasm leading towards murky water.

“The medical bay is on the other end.” Rex says before he spots a long cable to his right. He looks at you then, and when your eyes meet, you get an idea of what he’s thinking. “Wrecker grab that cable.”

“Why? Wha-What are you going to do with it?” The trooper asks nervously, and you sympathize with his fear of heights. He won’t like this plan.

“We have to cross to the other side.” You say, taking the cable and calling on the Force to jump across to the other part of the hallway. You secure the cable on your side while the others do so on theirs before everyone starts to cross.

Rex is the first one, followed by Hunter, Echo, Tech, and Omega. Wrecker is the last one, and very hesitant to cross but Omega’s encouragement seems to convince him to get on the cable. The problem though is that the cable isn’t strong enough and it comes loose on one side. Suddenly, Wrecker is hanging in the air his foot caught on the cable while something else stirs on the water.

“Are you alright?” Hunter asks, his voice worried at the sight of bubbles coming from the bottom of the water.

“No! It smells awful down here.” Comes Wrecker’s response a beat later.

The bubbles seem to become larger before they completely disappear. “I have a bad feeling about this.” You say, growing at the water. There’s eerie silence that follows, before a creature with teeth and tentacles tries to get a hold of Wrecker.

“PULL!” Omega says, shining her flashlight at Wrecker, before grabbing a hold of the cable to help the rest of you pull.

You use all your strength to pull him up, but the he creature takes him under the water, making all of you fall to your knees. Worried about Wrecker, you do the only thing that comes to your mind, you jump and dive in to help him. The water is cold against your skin, the temperature shocking your body before you focus on trying to see Rex under the murky water. Once you spot him, you use your lightsaber to cut him loose from the creature before the two of you grab the cable and emerge with a gasp.

“Climb!” You tell him, and he nods, beginning his ascent with the help of this brothers at the top. You follow suit, trying to get as far away from the water as possible.

Once you reach the hallway at the top you collapse on the ground for a moment, breathing heavily as the adrenaline in your body starts to lower.

“Are you two okay?” Hunter asks you, worry in his voice.

“We’re fine.” Wrecker tells his brother, and the response makes some tension leave the Sergeant’s shoulders.

“Makes you miss battling clankers doesn’t it.” Rex jokes and you can’t help to chuckle as you stand up.

“You can say that again.” You tell him, before everyone continues to the medical bay that is straight ahead.

“This will do nicely.” Rex says, shinning his flashlight around and finding a lot of medical equipment lying around.

“I wouldn’t call this med bay a sterile environment.” Tech mumbles, spotting tiny creatures on the walls and rust everywhere.

“Do you prefer to use the one on kamino?” Rex asks sarcastically and you nudge his elbow with yours, to keep him from saying anything else. Tech was only observing, of course he’ll comment on how dirty the room is for a surgery.

“Hey…” You reprimand Rex softly and he chuckles.

Tech stands up straighter at Rex’s question, knowing no good would come from the Kaminoan facility. Only your capture or execution. “This will do nicely.” Tech says, changing his mind about the salubrity of the place.

Everyone starts to settle into the room after that, Hunter placing Wrecker’s gear on one side of the room and Echo bringing all systems back on like for the surgery. Tech keeps himself preoccupied with his scanner, putting it near Wrecker’s to know the exact location of the chip.

While he does this, you can see Omega is being troubled by something. She approaches Hunter to let her concerns be known. “Hunter, just because the surgery worked on Rex, doesn’t mean it’s safe.” She holds her arms around herself, looking for some sort of comfort. “This is dangerous.”

You approach her and so does Rex, who’s the one who speaks up next. “It’s more dangerous to leave the chips in.” He says and puts his helmet down. Meanwhile you sigh, either of the two options make Omega nervous, she’s worried about her family.

Hunter places a hand on her shoulder, his eyes honest and open to her worries. “We have to do this. It’s worth the risk.”

You step closer to her crouching to be at her height level and be able to put your arm around her. “And what if it’s dangerous?” Omega asks. “I would be left here with no one.”

The young girl looks away, her eyes are starting to glaze over with tears at the thought of losing the Bad Batch, the ones who took her in. Omega is looking for reassurance from Hunter, not you, so you stay quiet and rub your hand up and down her arm for comfort. The sergeant seems to ponder his next words before his eyes leave no room for further question as he says:

“We’re not going anywhere Omega.” His hand finds its way back to her shoulder. “You’re stuck with us for the long run.”

You smile softly at the two of them before you stand up and see Rex looking at the scene in front of him with a pleased smile on his face. The captain is probably surprised to see this softer side of Hunter, that Echo had mentioned before started when Omega became part of the Bad Batch.

“Get that away from me.” You hear Wrecker complain as Tech continues to scan him, and his anger starts to be felt through the Force. It makes you frown.

“Something’s happening.” Omega says, eyebrows furrowed at the look in Wrecker’s face.

“We need to speed things up and you have to go somewhere else.” Rex tells you, his eyes scanning your face and finding clear worry in your features. “You’ve all been lucky so far, very few clones were immune to the effects of Order 66.”

Hunter sighs as he leaves Wrecker with Tech and walks with Rex to where Echo is prepping the machine. “When the regs attacked the Jedi General on Kaller, we didn’t understand why. But at least we helped the padawan escape.”

You see Wrecker clutch his head in pain, his groans becoming more frequent as the Hunter and Rex speak. You sense anger and fear coming off Wrecker, both of them conflicting over each other as if he’s fighting back the chip’s command. Your eyes widen then, and you address Hunter and Rex when you speak.

“You should stop talking, it’s making things worse for Wrecker.” You grimace when you feel his pain through the Force, it’s sharp, like an open wound just above your ear. You need to help him, now.

“How much longer until everything’s ready?” You ask worriedly.

“Not much longer.” Says Echo, tapping the controls next to a machine for a couple more seconds. “Done.”

But it’s too late, Wrecker had become quiet a few seconds before and when he speaks up again he doesn’t sound like himself.

“You’re in direct violation of order 66.” All of you stand there in shock as Wrecker seizes Tech by the neck, his pupils dilated and a terrifying look on his face. When he throws Tech against a wall, who crumples to the ground, all of you switch to battle mode.

You’re about to reach for your lightsaber when Rex turns to you, keeping you out of sight. “You have to go somewhere else before he sees you.” His eyes are full of fear and though it hurts, you shake your head no.

“He already knows, I’m here. We have to help him.” You say, looking behind Rex’s shoulder just in time to see Wrecker aim his blaster at the rest of you. “Get down!”

All of you dive behind a piece of metal that had fallen from the ceiling, Hunter holding Omega close to him to keep her from getting hurt. Three shots barely miss you and Echo who’s crouching on your left.

“He’s going to destroy the equipment!” Echo tells the five of you, reading his own pistol. As Wrecker continues to shoot the room, you realize that he’s right and if he keeps blasting the equipment, none of the clones will be able to get their chips out.

With a deep breath you summon the bravery your known for, the best option is to draw him out, and who better to do that than yourself. You stand up.

“Hey!” You yell and ignite your lightsaber. The green light floods the dark room as you speak. “You want to kill a Jedi, huh? Come and get me then!”

You use your saber to deflect the blaster shots Wrecker sends your way as you run out of the medical bay. Deciding to put some distance between Wrecker and the room, you turn left at the doorway.

“No!” You hear Rex calling your name. If you had told him what you were planning to do first, he would have objected. Now you’re certain he’s going to be coming after you, always willing to help.

As you keep deflecting blaster shots and using your speed to your advantage, you hear the troopers come running behind the two of you. Wrecker is relentless in his chase, grabbing anything he can and throwing it your way to slow or knock you down. Whichever works best you suppose. One of those objects though end up being a hug metal beam that was sticking out from a wall, which Wrecker is quick to grab and send it flying your way.

Sensing this though you turn around and call of the Force to stop it. The piece of metal is suspended in the air for a moment before you push it towards Wrecker, knocking him down and buying you some time. You duck behind some debris, and peak through a space in between them when you hear the trooper stand up again.

It is then that you spot Rex behind Wrecker’s shoulder, he seems to be planing something with Echo. When you meet his gaze, he nods, and you get an idea of his plan. You leap out of your hiding place and run towards Wrecker, at the last minute you duck and slide under his legs–nearly missing being grabbed by him. The result is what you were hoping for, you got him to look over in Rex’s direction.

You see movement behind Wrecker again and realize that Echo circled the medical bay to approach him from the back. The Bad Batcher, however, spots Echo and uses all his strength to send him flying towards you and Rex– who stuns his friend instead of Wrecker and falls limply to the floor. The force with which you were knocked down leaves no air in your lungs for a moment and you feel your arm sting from a long cut you got from a piece of metal.

Wrecker looms over the three of you, and you try to reach for your lightsaber to defend your friends but it’s nowhere in sight. You’re about to reach for Rex’s pistol when Hunter jumps on Wrecker and tries to help you by keeping him in a chokehold. Wrecker’s strength is quick to overpower his, and soon enough Hunter is being chocked by his mind-controlled brother. As Hunter clutches at his neck desperately, trying to loosen Wreckers’ grip, there’s a sound of a blaster shot going off. It’s not from Rex’s pistol you’re holding but from a gun Omega has taken a hold of.

Her face turns into a scared expression the moment Wrecker starts running after her–all four of you forgotten for the time being. You ignore the pain in your arm and sit up, checking on the Echo and Rex who seem okay but still unconscious.

“You’ll be fine.” You whisper to Rex, leaving his pistol by his hand and seeing your lightsaber a couple of feet away. You use the Force to bring it to your hand before looking back to the three men lying unconscious on the floor. “Hang on boys, I have to save Omega.”

With that you take off running in the same direction as Wrecker and Omega, and as you round a corner you see that Wrecker is inside what seems like old living quarters. He is moving things around, looking for the young clone, who he finds hiding under another piece of metal. You run towards them then, Wrecker unable to see you because he’s got his back turned to you, blaster pointed at Omega. Your heartbeat is erratic as you step in front of him putting his sole attention on you and not Omega.

You see his finger about to trigger the blaster and call on the Force to keep him from moving. He yells in frustration at not being able to shoot his blaster but still tries to, making you use all your strength to hold him back. “This is your family Wrecker! Your friends! No chip can change that, you need to fight it.”

“Good soldiers follow orders.” He mutters as he fights the Force, and when you can’t hold him back any longer he yells and forcefully tries to take a step closer to you, making you lose your focus and fall backwards.

Omega yells your name when Wrecker raises his blaster once more, ready to shoot you, but in that moment he’s stunned and falls to the floor. You lift your gaze from Wrecker to the doorway and find Rex standing the clutching his head, and his pistol raised in the stunned Bad Batcher direction.

You sit there, heart beating loudly and hands shaking. Wrecker almost shot you and you almost died had it not been for Rex. You look at him with wide eyes and he must see the fear in them because he’s rushing forward in a heartbeat. He approaches the place where you and Omega are currently sitting in shock and kneels in front of Omega first.

“Are you hurt?” He asks, looking over the kid’s face, searching for any sign of injury. When Omega shakes her head no and crawls over to where Wrecker is lying on the floor, he brings his attention back to you.

Rex’s hands gently take a hold your face, his eyes scanning all your features almost as if he’s making sure you’re really there in front of him. Your eyes begin to water at the utter relief you see in his eyes, your heart bursting with love for him.

“Thank you.” You whisper, it’s so quiet you’re not sure he hears it. But he does. Rex wipes one of your tears away and closes the distance between both of you.

His lips touch yours and it’s like everything falls into place and disappears all at once. You’re so relieved to be alive and so caught up in the love you can feel coming off him, that everything around you disappears for just a second. It’s a short and desperate press of lips, the two of you looking for some reassurance and getting to say things you can’t with words. A few seconds later, Rex pulls away.

“That was an incredibly reckless and terrible plan. Are you okay?” His voice trembles the tiniest bit, giving away just how nervous he had been to see you stand in front of Wrecker, ready to receive a blaster shot.

“Yeah.” You whisper looking into his eyes but then you remember your arm. “Well, no. I think I’m bleeding.”

“Your arm!” Omega gasps, kneeling next to you and looking at Rex with worry.

The captain follows your gaze, and his eyes widen at the sight of the long gash on your arm. “We need to take care of this.” He says –his voice is serious, and he frowns when you shake your head.

“We have to help Wrecker, first.” You insist. “This can wait. Come on, let’s get him back to the med bay.”

The two of you take one of Wrecker’s arms, throwing it over your shoulders and holding his weight to get him out of the room and back to the operating table. Omega leads the way, looking back at her friend worriedly every few seconds. As you reach the doorway you meet Hunter and Echo who are now awake and help you the rest of the way. Tech has resumed his post in front of the controls, most likely readying the machine for the surgery.

“I’ve just brought the systems back online. You can put him on the table now.” He says, and you don’t miss the way he glances nervously towards Wrecker. Everyone is worried about their friend, the ray of sunshine of the group who turned into a completely different person by a tiny chip. You bite your lips with worry when the machine starts to work and are brought out of your own head by Rex’s gentle touch on your shoulder.

“Let’s get this cleaned up, yeah?”

You nod, and move to sit on a crate while Rex gets bandages, cleaning wipes and bacta cream, Echo had in his backpack. You look at the cut once more, it has stopped bleeding but it stings when you move it.

When Rex comes back he sits in front of you and you notice the way he doesn’t meet your eyes. “May I?” He asks, gesturing to your arm which he takes when you nod your head yes.

His hold is gentle while he works. He takes a wipe to begin disinfecting the wound which draws a hiss from your lips. Rex grimaces before apologizing, resuming his work with furrowed eyebrows. You see his eyes try to meet yours but him tearing his gaze away before he’s able to look at you and you frown. You know that look, his tense posture and the frown on his lips. He’s blaming himself and you won’t stand for it.

“Rex?” You ask softly and he stops his work for a second before resuming. “Stop it, it’s not your fault.” You chastise him gently, you know what his attitude means. He’s thinking of all the possible ways he could have prevented you getting hurt and hating himself for it.

“It doesn’t matter, I hate seeing you hurt.” He sighs, taking the bacta patch and securing it over the wound before wrapping the bandage around your arm.

“Would you at least look at me?” You ask smiling at his stubbornness. There’s a second of silence before he finally meets your eyes. “Only you would blame yourself for a cut in my arm after saving my life, Rex.”

He chuckles, not helping it, at teasing smile on your face. “I just want you safe.” His hand reaches out to cup your cheek, his thumb rubbing it softly.

“And I am.” You say and motion your arm. “I’m also patched up too, thanks to you.”

The captain chuckles again and brings his hand back to his side. He seems calmer now, with less tension on his shoulders.

“Is it supposed to take this long?” Echo asks Rex, bringing you two back to the present.

Rex stands up and offers you a hand which you take to stand up too. Then, Rex let’s go and moves to stand next to echo by the table. “I’m not sure. I’ve never been on this end of the surgery.”

You go to stand next to Omega, who has a worried look on her face as the procedure goes on. You place a hand on her shoulder and offer a smile. “He’ll be okay.”

It doesn’t take any longer than 2 minutes for Tech to announce that the surgery was complete and successful. However, when it takes Wrecker longer to wake up the Bad Batch gets anxious, worried about their friend’s vital signs. Rex tries to tell Hunter to take Omega upstairs to get some air but just as you’re about to shake your head, Omega refuses to leave Wrecker’s side. The two of them are almost inseparable, you know she will wait for as long as it takes her friend to wake up.

Knowing this family needs some time to be together as they wait by Wrecker, you bump your shoulder against Rex’s to get his attention.

“Can we talk?” You ask him, motioning to the door with your head.

The captain smiles, copying the same answer you gave him back at Cid’s bar. “Always.”

You return his smile with one of your own, which turns shy when it’s only the two of you heading out of the door and towards another corridor for privacy. You have to tell him, you’ve wanted to for a long time and now your heart is desperately telling you to be honest be brave and love him openly, and let yourself be loved. Times of uncertainty shouldn’t hold you back they should help you make the leap, if youre not promised tomorrow then you’ll live for today. When you speak up, your voice is quiet but full of pent up emotion ready to burst.

“Rex, there are many things I want to talk about but this is what I need to say first…”

The look in his eyes brings some tears to your eyes, concern, and love in the beautiful brown that its unique to you.

“I was so sad because of everything I lost, I believed to have lost you. I couldn’t handle knowing that I never told you I love you. Because I do, beyond I can put into words. I… I’m so glad you’re okay and here with me.” You let your tears fall, and your smile takes over your face. Now he knows for sure and that’s all you’ve wanted.

You see him process all your words, eyes showcasing a flurry of emotions, until he reaches out and brings you close to him in a tight hug. It’s impossible not to sink into his embrace, much like you did back at that bar, your arms holding him close to you. Like part of you thinks he’s going to disappear.

You don’t think you’ll ever forget the way he whispers I love you in your ear or the way his lips move against your cheek as he speaks softly. “I’ve wanted to tell you for so long but I– well I didn’t think the time was right until… until I thought you died and realized the right time had always been there.”

“It’s alright, we’re both alright.” You whisper shaking your head against his shoulder.

“Yes, I guess we are.” The captain says, pulling back just enough to look into your eyes. When they meet, they’re both glazed over with emotion and when your eyes drift down to his lips he doesn’t hesitate to lean in and press them to yours.

This time, the kiss is slow, not solely out of reassurance but also out of love and want. What you’ve both waited for, to show, to say and to feel, the reaffirmation of a love that seems to endure even the hardest challenges. Your hands go from his shoulders to his hair, where you let your touch go over the scar on the left side of his temple– the reminder that he’s complete himself now. When you pull away, you let your lips steal one more kiss, a soft laugh escaping you. Rex chuckles before speaking once more.

“Would you come with me? Once we help them.” His forehead is against yours, as the words are whispered between the both of you. A wave of anxiousness comes from him, and you hear it in his voice as well. He thinks you might reject his proposal, as if your heart wouldn’t shatter the second the two of you part. “I know you think it’s dangerous for me to be with you, but I want you by my side whatever the danger may be.”

He’s right, only a rotation ago you were thinking of the danger you put everyone in because you’re a rogue Jedi. You were willing to go live on your own and work for Cid to make ends meet, all so that everyone else can be safe. But that was before you knew Rex was alive, and before you realized that the danger is worth it if you get to be together. There is no time to waste, especially not with the claws of the Empire trying to grab you anywhere you go.

“Yes.” You whisper back. “Of course, I’ll go with you.”

Rex’s smile is blinding when you both take a small step back, and his hand stays in yours on your way back to the med bay. Wrecker’s just woken up and the relief of everyone in the room and in your chest is so big it brings fresh tears to your eyes.

“One down, three more to go.” Rex smiles, holding up Tech’s scanner.

The rest of the surgeries go as smoothly as the first, and you roll your eyes jokingly at Echo when he comments how it was about time– he spotted you and Rex holding hands. Once everyone is almost ready to leave, except for Hunter who had gone upstairs to get some air with Rex, you address the friends that have become a small family to you in a short time.

“Guys, I have something to tell you…” You fiddle with your fingers looking down at them before bringing you gaze back to them. There’s a lump forming in your throat, even though going with Rex is something you really want. “Rex, he offered me to go with him and I said yes. So it’s time to say goodbye I guess.”

Your vision blurs as you look from one trooper to another, when it lands on Echo and he gives you an encouraging smile, you break. Taking three steps towards him you put your arms around your friend, someone who’s become a real support from the first time you met. A brother.

Echo hugs you back and there’s a small smile on his face. “We’ll miss you but you two belong together, good luck.”

You wipe your tears and nod. “I’ll miss you too. So much.”

Wrecker gives you a crushing hug which you gladly return, glad to have him back. All laughs and good times. Tech hugs you too much to your surprise before Omega takes a hold of your hand.

“Will we see you again?” She asks. There are tears in her eyes and similar ones appear on yours.

“Of course you will.” You say softly, crouching in front of her. “This goodbye isn’t forever. I’d miss you too much.”

Omega nods before hugging you, her arms going around your shoulders. “Goodbye.”

When you let go and look back at the group, you wipe away your tears and give them a final nod. “Whatever you need, you let me know.”

With that you make your way to the south exit where Hunter and Rex stand, saying their own goodbyes. You smile at the carefree look on Rex’s face, he’s more relaxed now, happier, even though you sense much grief in him.

“Stay out of trouble Captain.” Hunter says, offering Rex his hand which he takes and shakes.

“Funny. I was going to say the same thing.” Rex teases back before letting go of the Sergeant’s hand and spotting you. “Ready to go?”

“Ready as ever.” You smile and then look at Hunter. The one who let you join the Bad Batch and offered you shelter. “Thank you Hunter, for everything.”

“That’s what family is for.” Hunter nods, and then becomes surprised when you hug him. You feel a wave of gratitude coming off of him. “You need anything, you know how to find us.”

“And you know how to find us.” You step back and return his nod.

Rex comes to stand next to you, his helmet back on his head. It brings memories of old times and you can’t help a big smile from appearing on your face again.

“Where are we off to now?” You ask Rex, your hand finding his like a magnet.

Though you can’t see his face you hear the smirk on his voice as he starts to lead the way. “You’ll see, love.”

So you follow him, down into the fog and all the way back to his ship where you know new adventures await you.

#captain rex #captain rex x reader #rex x reader #captain rex x gn reader #captain rex x Jedi!reader #captain rex imagine

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cookinguptales · 3 years ago

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I think it’s interesting how you say that out of all the vampires, Nadja is the one that disrespects Guillermo the most(?) At least she calls him by his actual name lol. Laszlo continues to be a dick to him by still calling him Gizmo (even after everything Guillermo has done for him) and throughout the series has been verbal about his dislike towards him (including Colin, but I’m sure that’s going to change now with how supportive and loving Guillermo is being with him rn). But it’s weird cause at the same time it seems like Laszlo respects Guillermo in a way cause he trusted him (and his skills) enough to send him with his wife to protect her (and where he finally used his real name out of respect for the first time), but I guess that’s Laszlo for ya. I do feel that Laszlo is finally going to /actually/ start respecting Guillermo this season though, with helping him take care of reborn-Colin (the fact that Laszlo is even confiding with him for co-parenting is huge, cause he could have easily asked his wife to help him but he didn’t). Laszlo already admitted that Guillermo “was right” with his viewpoints about Colin’s upbringing in 4x03, so hopefully this thread of respecting Guillermo (not just from Laszlo but from all the other vampires) continues.

Actually, she Gizmos him kind of often haha. I think she respects him the least of the household because she acknowledges his talent the least. Nandor feels almost proud of Guillermo's slayer abilities sometimes (like when he bragged that he'd killed the Baron) and Laszlo obviously trusted in his abilities enough to protect Nadja. Even before he died, Colin Robinson did seem to have a weird soft spot for Guillermo. (Like when he thought for a second that Nandor had killed him and he was like ???)

I don't think Laszlo likes Guillermo, but he respects him. There's a difference. He's willing to acknowledge his ability to protect Nadja and his skill with Colin Robinson. He understands, perhaps more savvily than any other vampire there, that Guillermo knows how to do things that they do not. He knows that Guillermo is extremely capable, smart, and stubborn, and has a canniness to him that lets him figure the tough things out. He's also willing to defer to Guillermo in matters of childrearing, so let's say that he respects his skills in empathy as well. He's more willing to give Guillermo important responsibilities than anyone else in the house -- and will force him to do those things even if he has to lock him in a crate. He was also totally chill with letting Guillermo wander around the Council's library, so he trusted him not to wreak any havoc lmao.

And then there's Nadja, who I'd really hoped would bond with him more in Europe. lmao. I'm not sure if she even had a reason to ship Guillermo home instead of just letting him fly? It's unclear if he had to be tricked into going back. She seems to like him more than a generic familiar these days (see: Doctor Tom) but she still treats him more like a pet she doesn't actually care for that much. Or maybe a possession, but far from her favorite...

She's by far the most likely to scream at him until he does what she wants (even if he's already doing it) and the one who probably cares least if he dies. I don't think she respects Guillermo very much at all, truthfully. She sees him as potentially useful at times, but she kind of seems like she half-expects him to die any time they let him do something dangerous and she's fine with that. (See: how fine she was using him as bait for the Sire.) I think she sometimes kind of sees him as cannon fodder that does the housework. But she does like him more than she used to, I think. So that's... hopeful, I guess? lmao

#replies #wwdits tag #wwdits s4 spoilers #I know it may not seem like it but Nadja is my favorite of the vampires lmao

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pascalpanic · 4 years ago

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Caffeine Rush: Chapter One / Americano

Javier Peña x f!Reader

Summary: Working a dull December morning shift, you meet a seemingly disgraced DEA agent by the name of Javier Peña.

Warnings: Language, talk of death and canon-typical Narcos violence

W/C: 2.3k

A/N: YOU GUYS i am so excited to share this story with you all!! i fuckin love Javi and coffee so this features my two favorite things! big thanks as always to my beta readers for helping me out- especially with chapter 2 (which i was stuck on for 3 weeks lol). I hope you guys enjoy! this story has some twists I don’t think y’all are gonna see coming ;) I’m planning to update this fic once a week! I just wanted to get chapter one out there :)

previous chapter || next chapter || masterlist

Americano: espresso and hot water; has a similar taste to a brewed coffee, but still darker and more caffeinated thanks to the espresso.

Work is blissfully slow on weekdays, allowing you to putz along at your own speed. Today, however, is boring as hell. You’d had approximately seven customers since the morning rush, meaning about seven drinks to make. There weren’t even tables to clean, no customers having sat in the cozy coffeeshop. You and your coworker had joked around, swept and mopped, and cleaned the espresso machines twice each.

At this point, with nothing else to do, you sipped your third peppermint mocha while perched atop two stacked milk crates, leafing through your worn copy of The Great Gatsby. It was a common occurrence when evening rolled around, but rarely so early in the day. Since you were the one on barista duty, Mandy kept watch for customers and allowed you to relax with your book. It was routine for the two of you. She mindlessly fusses with the product wall and the coffee grinder, cleaning everything for the third time.

The door opens and you pop up from your makeshift chair excitedly. The weather is blustery and cold, with heavy snowflakes starting to fall outside the large windows, and the man who enters is pulling his jacket tight around himself. He looks up and you quickly dodge behind the espresso machines before you can make eye contact. It’s instinctual, and you’re unsure why until your brain reminds you of the man’s face. He’s handsome, even though you got maybe a second’s look at him. Dark brown hair and a neatly trimmed mustache, eyes an even darker shade to complement his tanned skin.

You bite your lip and grab a large ceramic mug, bringing it to the espresso machine. No one would be crazy enough to order a cold drink in this weather. Mandy takes his order and a few seconds later, his receipt pops up through the printer at your end of the shop:

Ticket 114 - 12/3/93

Name: Javier

LG-Redeye

!memo: darkroast

Javier. The name suits the man, you think to yourself and smile as you begin prepping the espresso for his drink. As you walk to Mandy’s station to fill the mug with drip coffee, she smiles and nudges your side. “Isn’t he cute?” She murmurs. You look at the printed ticket then at the coffee warmers: there’s no dark roast.

“Very,” you giggle a little and fill the mug with light instead. He’s seated in the corner. “I call dibs,” you tease, and Mandy shakes his head. She’s married, but she knows your type, and it’s exactly the man sitting there, staring at a newspaper.

“Yeah, okay,” she shakes her head but smiles at you. “No wedding ring either. I think you should bring his drink to him instead of calling out the order.”

Staring down at the filling mug, you shake your head. “We’ll see,” you chuckle softly and return down to your end of the bar, pouring the two shots of espresso. “Javier?” You call in your barista voice, and the man lifts his head and walks to the bar.

“That’s me,” he says, a small begrudging smile on his face.

“Hi,” you chuckle and hold up the mug. “We’re out of dark roast right now, so I had to use light. Could I put some flavoring or cream or sugar in there for you?” You offer. “Otherwise, I can most definitely make you something else. An americano maybe?”

He pauses for a second. “Yeah, an americano would be great,” he nods. “What kind of flavors… are there?” he asks.

“Oh, we have a ton,” you say enthusiastically, grabbing the syrup rack and pulling it your way. “Any of these. Hazelnut, vanilla, raspberry,” you smile, rattling off the flavors, “otherwise we also have caramel and any flavor of chocolate.”

Javier raises an eyebrow as he looks at the small display. “Never been somewhere with so many options. Could I do dark chocolate and cream?” He asks, and you nod.

“Of course,” you tell him, dumping the previous mug and grabbing another. “I’ll have that right up for you. You can head back to where you were sitting,” you inform him.

He shakes his head. “I can wait here. Save us both a trip.”

You nod. “Sure,” you say with a smile, prepping more espresso. “The redeye and americano are pretty different in caffeine though, the americano is going to have more since there’s more espresso.”

“I just need as much caffeine as I can get. Tough day ahead,” he nods.

“I’ve been told bartenders and baristas are wonderful ears to listen,” you offer, a sweet smile on your face.

His guard has fallen like a wrecking ball through a house of cards at the way you smile. “Well, I’m with the DEA.” It feels strange, openly admitting that around here. Colombians weren’t exactly welcoming to American agents, but it felt like citizens around here saw them as some kind of superhero.

Your eyes light. “Shouldn’t it be a fantastic day for you then?” you ask. “I mean, it’s all over the news. Escobar. Do you know the guys in the photo?” You ask with excitement in your voice.

He nods. Escobar was killed yesterday, and it’s all over the news, including the paper back at his table. “Yeah. The blonde guy in the red shirt is actually my work partner. It’s a tough day because I didn’t get to be there when it happened. I’ve been down in Colombia for years now, and they catch Escobar two days after I leave.”

The smile on your face turns to a frown. “That’s… awful,” you nod, eyes full of sadness for him. “I’m so sorry. At least it must be nice to be home?” you ask, tilting your head slightly and pouring the espresso shots into the mug.

He shakes his head. “D.C. isn’t home. I’m from Texas,” he admits, and the way he speaks finally registers as a slightly slowed speech pattern from the area. “I’m happy for Steve though. The blonde one, my partner. He deserves it. We’ve been down there for… Jesus,” he sighs and looks at the ceiling as he counts the years, “well, a while now. Couple of years. I fucked up, bad. Honestly, I think I’m up here to get fired.”

You frown slightly as you pump the chocolate into the hot espresso and water, swirling it around with a spoon. “You worked on Escobar for years?” you ask, and Javier nods. “Well, then I personally doubt you’d be getting fired. You guys just caught him, everyone must be in a good mood. I guess it depends on how bad you fucked up,” you shrug as you tap the spoon into the sink and bend down to grab the cream.

“I… do you know who Los Pepes are?” he asks. You shake your head as you stand, pouring some cream into the steaming drink. “Well, they’re a radical group who did some crazy shit to try to weaken Escobar, and I got involved with them. I have a meeting today with the review board.”

You finally make eye contact with him, wincing for him. “Yeah, that doesn’t sound great,” you admit with a chuckle, putting the cream back in the little refrigerator beneath you.

“It’s not.”

“It’s not necessarily why you got called up here,” you shrug and grab a saucer, putting the mug on top of it and on the bar for him to take.

“Well, I don’t know, I suppose,” he agrees and takes the drink from you.

You shrug. “Best of luck, Javier,” you tell him with a genuine smile of encouragement.

He nods, looking at your name tag attached to your apron. He murmurs your name before looking back up at your face and into your eyes. “Thank you.” He takes his drink and returns to his table, and you sigh and return to your makeshift chair in the corner.

Mandy pulls up two crates next to you, sitting down across from you with gleaming eyes. “Did it go well? You two talked for a while,” she asks, raising her eyebrows and encouraging you to tell her more.

“A little, but just… how I would with anyone, I guess,” you shrug as you sip your mocha for a moment, drinking the last of the warm coffee. “Not like I got his number or anything.”

“He’s sitting down to drink his coffee. Go offer him a refill when he’s done.”

“That would require me to stare at him, Mandy, and I think he’d notice that,” you shake your head as you stand to make yourself a new drink.

She stands with you, pushing the crates out of the way. “I’ll keep an eye on him for you. I’ll signal to you when he’s done or getting low on coffee, and you can bring him a refill. How does that sound?” she asks you.

You nod with a sigh. “Since you’re apparently not going to let this go, fine. I will.”

Mandy claps her hands together excitedly. “Yay!” She sings. “Oh, will you make me a drink while you’re at it? I’ll have a-”

“Skim hazelnut latte with no foam and light whip,” you recite before she can finish her order.

“You’re a babe,” she sings and heads over to clean the tables that haven’t even been touched since she wiped them an hour ago.

You make her drink and set it aside, then work on your own, fourth coffee. The peppermint and the coffee swirl together deliciously in the air, fitting the weather and the time of year. It’s December, and the snow outside and the warm feeling from the man across the coffee shop contrast in your heart. You sneak glances at him a couple of times, biting your lip to hold back a smile as you admire the handsome face peeking above the newspaper he reads.

About ten minutes later, you look up from cleaning the machines to see Mandy tucked behind a wall where he can’t see her. She’s frantically waving at you, pointing towards Javier once she catches your attention. Go, she mouths excitedly, beaming at you.

You wipe your hands on your apron and walk to where she stands. “Fine, I will, but you’re making the drinks if anyone else comes in.”

“Oh no, how will I handle it?” She asks in a deadpan, eyeing the shop that’s empty except for the two of you and Javier. “Go,” she says, giving you a light shove and giggling.

You shake your head but walk over, placing a hand lightly on the table. “Coffee’s looking low. Could I get you a refill?” you offer.

Javier looks up at you, and you feel like turning to jelly as you look into his big brown eyes, filled with confusion but also admiration. He furrows his brow, creating small creases between his eyebrows. “Uh… sure. How much is it?” he asks, reaching for his wallet and setting down the newspaper.

You put a hand on his arm, giving a gentle smile. “You need it. It’s on the shop,” you tell him.

“No, seriously, what, like $5?” he asks, but you put a hand over his.

“No, Javier,” you chuckle lightly. “Don’t worry about it. Another americano with chocolate and cream?” you ask.

“Uh… make me whatever you like best. And bring one for yourself too.” He says, well, really asks, nodding to the empty chair across from him. “It’s not too busy to talk, is it?”

You swallow hard before you break into a grin. “No, not at all. Uh… do you like peppermint?” you ask.

“Peppermint is good,” he says, giving you a small smile.

“Perfect,” you smile softly at him, picking up his empty mug and saucer. “We have a peppermint mocha, it’s seasonal. It’s my favorite, I’ll be right back with them,” you say, giggling softly and biting your lip as you turn and walk back to the bar.

You’re hidden behind the espresso machines as you finally grin and giggle, and Mandy rushes to your side. “Oh my God,” she laughs happily. “He’s so hot. What were you guys talking about?”

“He asked me to sit with him,” you giggle excitedly, preparing four espresso shots.

She nearly squeals with excitement, grabbing your arm closest to her. You scoop some chocolate chips and pour milk into a pitcher, putting it under the steam wand. “Holy shit. What has he told you so far? What’s his story?”

“Well, he said he’s a DEA agent. He’s on leave from work right now, but the guy in the red shirt in that picture of Escobar after they killed him? That’s his partner,” you tell her, letting the excitement speed your words up. “He’s been in Colombia for a couple of years working on it. Isn’t that cool?” You laugh.

“So cool,” she nods in agreement. “And he’s so fucking cute. Girl, you need to get your ass back there before I steal him myself.”

You laugh as you pour the shots and then the steamed milk into the mugs. “I’m trying, but you holding onto one of my arms is holding me back, love,” you tease her and she breaks away. You top both mugs with a perfectly peaked whipped cream layer, then sprinkle candy cane pieces and chocolate chips on top. “Wish me luck,” you practically sing as you walk back with a mug for each of you.

Javier’s holding back a grin himself as you make the drinks. He can see your head bobbing along behind the bar, the other woman chatting with you. He’s more transfixed than you than he should allow himself to be, but all fears fade as he sees you approaching with a grin and two large, whipped cream-topped drinks.

You set the drink down in front of him and he smiles at you. “Wow. This…” he looks down at it and smiles a little. “Well, it looks sweet.”

“I have a sweet tooth,” you admit with a soft laugh and sit down, taking a sip and sighing softly. “It tastes like winter. I love it.” He nods and takes a sip too. It’s sweet, but not as bad as he expected. “I added extra espresso to yours,” you tell him, a shy smile on your face.

“A woman after my own heart,” he chuckles and sets it down, licking the foam off of his mustache.

You smile a little wider at that and hold back a laugh. “Did you want to talk about the meeting?” you ask him, tilting your head, your expression softening.

Javier’s already falling, and he curses himself as he looks at you. Not a thought except him. He’s already thinking of a sly way to get your number. “No, not really. I just spilled basically my entire life story to you.”

“Then you’ve had a very short and boring life. That was hardly anything. I’ve had customers come in and cry over divorces or lost family members; the whole job situation was mild,” you chuckle and admit, tracing the rim of the mug with your fingertips and staring down at the steaming drink.

“Really? You seem like a therapist and a barista in one,” he teases lightly.

“Well, I did just graduate with a Masters in psychology,” you shrug. “I just graduated with it from Georgetown. That’s why I’m here,” you tell him and look up. “Working here part-time while I decide what I want to do.”

“No shit. I did my undergrad in psych and sociology,” Javier says with a small smile, making your smile grow too. “Texas A&M though. Nothing as prestigious as Georgetown.”

“A&M isn’t anything to sneeze at,” you chuckle as you look over at him. His eyes are deep-set, deeper than they probably normally are. They’re bloodshot and hold bags beneath them. After a breath, you bite your lip and look him in the eye. “You look tired. I don’t know you normally, I understand. Maybe you shouldn’t finish this,” you tell him with a concerned smile, scooting his mug towards you. “Too much caffeine.”

“No, I need it, please,” he says, tugging it back and sipping at it again. “Just… until after this meeting. Then I’ll know what my future holds, then I can rest.”

“What time is it at?”

“5:00.”

There’s a beat of silence. “I don’t have any plans tonight,” you say gently, looking at him with a question in your eyes. “Would you like to get dinner? Talk things out, once you know what your future holds?” You offer, a soft smile and hopeful eyes. “I already know enough about you. This could be practice therapy for me,” you tease softly.

Javier thinks for a second, though he knows what the answer will be. At least pretends to think, surprised that you could hear all he had said about Los Pepes and working in Colombia and that you still offered. “I’d like that,” he nods, his voice soft when he looks at you. “I don’t know the area well. You’ll have to tell me where.”

“Do you have a car up here?” You ask him, and he shakes his head. “I can pick you up,” you offer. “Where are you staying?”

He grabs a napkin and pats his pockets for a pen. You hand him the paint pen tucked on your apron and he quickly thanks you before writing down the address to the hotel. You take the napkin and the pen and grab another napkin. “And this…” you say and write down your phone number, sliding it to him, “is where you’ll call me when you’re ready for me to come get you. Okay?” You ask.

Your voice is so soothing, Javier thinks. More than sleep or reassurance or even a hit of Escobar’s private stash or really anything could be to him right now, it’s a comfort. You must be a miracle, he thinks, some kind of blessing for something he isn’t quite sure of, but he must have done something right in the eyes of the Almighty to be here, right now, talking with you. “You know, I was raised Catholic,” he tells you and leans in a little. “I don’t know that I am anymore. But still… I think you might be an angel in disguise.”

Biting your lip, you giggle and look down. “I don’t know about that,” you chuckle as you look up at him again. “Just… right place, right time, maybe. I’ll see you tonight, okay?” you ask him, placing your hand over his and standing.

Javier nods as he looks up at you. “How should I dress?” he asks and tilts his head. His eyes are so expressive, you notice and smile a bit. They betray exactly what he’s thinking.

“Um… what you’re wearing now would be fine. A button down and jeans would work,” you tell him with a nod, patting his hand and picking up your mug. “I’ll see you then. Good luck,” you tell him with a sweet smile and retreat to the back. Javier can’t say anything in return, just sips his peppermint mocha.

Three minutes later, you return with a muffin. “Eat this. You can’t have all that caffeine and no food.”

“Thanks,” he chuckles and looks down at it. You’re gone when he looks back up, and he breaks off a piece. What a weird day. It’s only about to get weirder.

taglist:

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#javier peña x reader #javier peña #javi peña #javi peña x reader #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #jose pedro balmaceda pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal x you #javier peña x you #caffeine rush

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goethitee · 2 years ago

Text

okay um… ik it has been a while since i said i would introduce Him but im doing it rn ok.

this is eustace! we’ve had him for about a week & a half now & hes doing very well! winni loves him, cletus thinks hes pretty alright most of the time & beau… tolerates him. adding him has gone very smoothly thanks to the two weeks he was with us in november/december.

for anyone that wasn’t following along… my friend purchased him from a pet store in june, kept him in his crate 23 hours a day, & never worked with him. because of this he would pee in the house/crate & wasy very hyperactive. the only human contact he got was them “correcting” him; he never got any love.

in november i asked to take him to do a “board & train” type thing as she had texted me saying eustace had chewed through his crate & was chewing the carpet & her bf threatened to shoot him. afterward he was better, but they didn’t continue doing (the very basic) things i did with him at my house, so he regressed. he started biting “for no reason”.

end of december she told me she was getting rid of him & asked us to take him. we eventually agreed. when i was talking to her about everything before we took him she told me she “fucking hated him” & whenever she talked about how she tried to make it work, she would always say that she had spent $3000 on him. basically only talking about how it affected her, & not anything about the feelings of the dog.

anyways. we have him now & hes getting more love than he knew was possible. there is literally nothing wrong with him except that he is a puppy. he literally just needs basic training. he is behind for his age but that is all her fault lol. his main problem is that he has no idea how to relax outside of his crate, but he is getting better. he is extremely sweet & when he stays in one place long enough he is quite the cuddle bug. you would never think he had ever bit anyone, much less hard enough to gush blood.

bonus picture:

#dog posting #also he is 11 months. expect a birthday post next month lol #the whole pet store thing she also lied to me about because she knew i would be mad at her for it #looked up his breeder it it is literally a puppy mill. with like over 200 dogs #i put biting for no reason in quotations because while they werent doing anything to him when he bit them the times she told he did painted #a picture for me. the gushing blood one was when the bf reached into his crate to turn up his shock collar so.#ik that probably the only other times the bf has reached close to him for anything has been to beat him. hes probably grabbed him by the #collar & shook him before. so combine previous abuse with absolutely no niceness & you get a dog that bites ‘for no reason’#yea didnt even mention the shock collars. they bought shovk collars because their dogs would whine/bark in their crates. no idea why. not #like theyre trapped in there almost 24/7 #okay im done for right now #this is longer that i thought it would be lol #okay wait one more thing. so they named him smokey right. when we said we were gonna change her name she mentioned how at the pet store his #bame was solar. talk about a downgrade lmao #eustace is not anything amazing lol im not saying that but ykwm

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 5 years ago

Text

Into The Woods

Warnings: noncon sexual acts; vaginal, anal.

This is dark!Lumberjack!Bucky and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You’re sent to make a delivery to the man in the woods.

Note: This is for @imanuglywombat and @nellblazer‘s Lumberjack Challenge. I couldn’t see if they were accepting dark fics so if they aren’t, I guess it’s just another fic lol. But anyways, the challenge inspired me.

Thank you. Love you guys!

As always, if you can, please leave some feedback, like and reblog <3

“You sure Dezy isn’t going to make it?” You asked as you helped Gerry load the crate onto the trailer.

“I’m sorry, I got all the other deliveries sent out with Milo but this one’s too far for him.” Gerry grunted as he closed the back of the open-top trailer. “I don’t know what’s gotten into Dezy. Second day in a row and yet I hear he’s down at the Horse every night.”

“Well, he’ll run out of beer money sooner than later,” You sighed as you pulled on your gloves. The air was starting to bite as the brief autumn was turning. “You sure you can manage without me?”

“Slow day in the shop,” He shrugged. “You just be careful.”

“Alright. I’ll do my best.” You climbed up onto the four-wheeler and fumbled with the thick key with the grizzly bear charm attached to it. “Maybe next time give me the easy ones.”

“I’ll tack an hour of overtime on your pay, how about that?” He chuckled. “You need to get out anyway. I know this place is small but you can’t spend all your time reading those harlequins in the dry good section.”

“They’re not harlequins,” You turned the engine and raised your voice as you gripped the handlebars. “They’re fantasy, Ger.”

“Sure, sure,” He backed away. “You go or you won’t make it back by sundown.”

“Never far off these days,” You mused as you revved. “See ya, Gerry. Don’t forget to down stock the fishing wire.”

“Which one of us is the boss?” He called after you as you pulled out, the small trailer rumbling behind you.

You turned off at the end of the street, past the business fronts that looked like cabins. The town looked straight out of Western but with more snow. The first of the annual powder had yet to fall but you could feel it coming. You headed over the lumpy tundra past the sparse trees that grew thicker the further you got. The paths turned narrower and you steered slowly through the damp forest.

You only went so far out when your uncle took you ice fishing and rarely in this direction. You slowed as the path grew more uneven, carefully traversing the thick roots and deep valleys. The noise of the engine bounced off the trunks of trees around you. It was more than an hour before you reached your destination. At least, you thought you were in the right place. Weren’t too many cabins hidden in these trees; well not many still inhabited.

You pulled into the clearing and killed the engine. You hopped off the ATV and stretched your legs, your thighs tingled from the rumble. You went to the trailer and open the door and slid out the heavy trunk. You braced yourself before you lifted and gave a grunt. You’d packed the load yourself. You carried it past the old motorcycle and the neat stack of wood which marched the way to the broad front porch. You slowly ascended the three steps up and set down the heavy crate beside the door.

A bench made of logs, likely by hand, stood just a few feet from the front door, a woven blanket folded over the seat. The curtains were drawn within and you started to wonder if there was anyone there or if this was just another forgotten scene. It all seemed so eerily still.

You knocked and waited for an answer. Nothing. You tried again with the same result. Then, after a cold silence, you heard a door open and snap shut but it wasn’t the one before you. You turned as a man appeared beside the far corner of the porch. He appeared disturbed by your presence as he emerged from the old shed, his flannel jacket marked with patches of dirt and his dark hair poking out from beneath a woolen cap.

“He usually just leaves it there,” He clapped his gloved hands together as he brushed away the filth. “Thanks.”

“Uh, sorry,” You turned and ambled down the steps. “I didn’t realise.”

“Don’t be sorry,” He stayed near the corner, kicking his foot up onto the stump where an ax waited to be used. “Better get going before the sun beats you.”

“Sure,” You went back to the four wheeler. His eyes bore into you as you climbed up. “I didn’t mean to disturb you. I just--”

“Thanks,” He said again. “Driving out here all this way. Appreciate it.”

“No problem,” You turned the key. “Have a good day, sir.”

The engine roared to life and you carefully turned around, the empty trailer clattering behind you. You couldn’t help but feel him watching you still. You wanted to look back, but didn’t. You twisted the throttle and delved back through the treeline. You hoped Dezy would get his shit together, you weren’t keen on doing deliveries.

🪓

The next day, you were back to your usual fare. You stood at the long counter of Elk’s General, watching the locals as they wandered in and out, perusing the aisles of groceries, clothing, or novelty goods. You rung them through on the outdated till and smiled after them as they left with their paper bags.

The usual midday lull came and you pressed flat your latest read on the counter. You crossed your arms over the edge and bent over the pages, losing yourself in the fantastical medieval setting. Gerry didn’t mind so much as you kept an eye on customers.

The rusty bell above the entrance tinkled and you looked up suddenly. You turned your book over before you could lose your place. You stood up straight and smiled at your newest customer but froze as his eyes met yours. It was the man from the day before, to whom you had delivered the weeks worth of goods.

He ignored your usual greeting and marched over to you. He planted the bill for his delivery on the counter.

“I ordered six cans of maple beans. I have only four.” He said plainly.

“An oversight. I’m sorry, sir. Just a moment.” You gulped and flitted off to check the shelf. There were only the tomato beans in stock. You went to the back room and checked there. Nothing. You returned to the counter. “Looks like we’re all out but I’ll make a note to have them delivered when we get more. Or we can remove the charge from your bill.”

“Keep ‘em on,” He said as he reached into his pocket. “I can wait.” He unfolded the worn leather wallet. “I have to pay my account anyway.”

“Sure,” You reached to slid his bill closer and keyed the amount into the machine. “You could have called--”

“I don’t have a phone,” He growled as he counted out the bills. “I don’t like to be disturbed.”

You took the money and counted it. You avoided his gaze guiltily. You sorted the bills in the cash door and handed him his change. His gloves brushed your skin and he tucked the money away with his wallet.

“Good book?” He pointed to the novel.

“Alright, so far,” You answered quietly.

“I read his other one. The one set in Ancient Egypt. It was… interesting. Not my usual reading material though.” He tapped his fingers on the counter. “You have a good day, miss.”

He turned and left you as you returned his farewell. The door snapped shut behind him and you looked back down at the book. You opened the front page and read the list of works by the same author. You’d have to look into them.

🪓

Several days late, you were helping Gerry restock shelves with the newly acquired truck. The night before, you’d helped unload it and left it for the next day to sort through. Dezy sat behind the counter, half-keeled over on the stool, trying not to puke into his hands.

“Damn shit is hungover again,” Gerry muttered. “I got a whole list of deliveries today and he can’t even stand straight.”

“I can do it,” You offered. “Long as he can manage the till.”

“I don’t know if I even trust him to do that,” Gerry said. “You sure you wanna do the deliveries?”

“We got any of the maple beans on the truck?” You asked.

“A good amount.” He said.

“We owe two cans to-- well, I didn’t get his name. The man who lives way up in the trees.” You frowned, only then realising you new nothing about him. In that town, everyone knew everyone.

“Mr. Barnes?” Gerry reached over into the box and moved around several items before pulling out a can. “Quiet man. Doesn’t like to be bothered. Must’ve scared Dezy good to get him to shut up.” He took out two more cans. “If you’re willing to head up that way, you give him and extra can on me. He’s the only customer in town who pays on time.”

“Sure,” You stood, thankful not to be forced to kneel all day at the shelves. “The list?”

“Pinned up behind the counter as usual,” He caught a box of Corn Pops he hit with his elbow and swore. “Take a radio. Snow’s comin’.”

“Will do,” You said. “I should be that long.”

“Chill blowin’ in from the lake, bundle up before you go too.” He said.

“You sound like my mother.” You laughed.

“I feel like you’re mother,” He shook his head. “Now go, before I get sentimental.”

🪓

Gerry was right, it was cold. The four-wheeler seemed slower as the wind swirled around you. You stopped by each house and knocked before leaving your haul. You smiled away tips and bid each resident a good day before you rushed away under the protests of another delivery ahead of you.

Your last would take the longest, though it was the smallest. The tree cans rattled around the trailer so you stopped at the shop before you continued on and detached it. You placed the cans in a small box and secured it to the seat behind you with bungee cords. You fixed your gloves and pulled your cap over your ears before you set out once more.

The sky grew paler the later it got. A harbinger of snow. You took the same route as before, getting off once to push the ATV over a fallen branch caught beneath it. You carried on, the frigid air lashing your cheeks.

You drew up to the clearing as you had before. The motorcycle was gone, likely pushed into the shed in preparation for the first snowfall. The piles of wood had grown taller and the front door was open, the screen door a poor barrier to the looming winter.

You unhooked the box and climbed up the steps. You bent to set it down and be off. You looked up as you sensed something on the other side of the screen door. The man, Mr. Barnes, stared at you through the mesh, a mug in hand. You stood and smiled nervously.

“Your beans. An extra can for the inconvenience.” You said. “Have a good day, sir.”

You turned but caught yourself before you made it down one step as he spoke.

“It’s pretty cold.” He remarked as he took the box in his free hand. “You like coffee? I just made a pot.”

“I appreciate it,” You turned to him. “But I don’t mean to impose on you.”

“I wouldn’t ask if you were,” He said stiffly. “I’d feel worse letting half a pot go to waste.”

“I don’t know, I should--” You glanced behind you at the trees.

“You came all this way to give me beans in this,” He held the door with his elbow and stepped through. “You don’t like coffee, I got tea.”

You took a breath as you looked back to him. “Sure. I’ll have some coffee.”

He nodded and stared at you. He blinked and moved to hold the door open. “Well, you wanna come inside? Or do you prefer your coffee frozen?”

“Uh, yeah, okay,” You kicked yourself and stopped right before the door. You smiled awkwardly and offered your name. “I just… figured you wouldn’t want a stranger in your home.”

“Bucky,” He returned and waved you inside. “Not many strangers in town. Not really.”

You entered and he followed you. The entryway was lit by an antique lamp and the front room was entirely dark. You knelt to unlace your boots as he stepped around you. You kept your coat on as the wind continued to seep in behind you.

“Kitchens just down the hall past the stairs,” He said as he continued across the wooden floor.

“Okay,” You slid your boots off and stood, following his shadow to the kitchen.

As you passed through the doorway, he placed his mug on the table and went to the cupboard. He took down another thick ceramic cup and sidled over to the stove. He filled it from the percolator and returned to the table to place it before you.

“Milk? Sugar?”

“I’m fine, black is good,” You accepted as he slid the cup over to you.

You sat, hesitantly, and removed your gloves. You tucked them in your pocket and wrapped your hands around the steaming cup. He pulled out another chair and sat. He looked into the mug and slowly drank from it.

“I didn’t know anyone still lived out here.” You said.

“Sometimes,” He answered carefully. “Spring and summer I spend working the lumberyards south of here.”

“And you live all the way up here?” You wondered. He gave you a sharp look. “Sorry, it’s just… curiosity.”

“I like it,” He shrugged. “It’s quiet.”

You nodded and resigned yourself to silence. You listened to the wind outside and looked around at the tidy kitchen. Most of the original structure remained, renovated but not replaced. Even the curtains seemed to be of another era; faded but without holes or tears. All the way up here, time always seemed to stand still.

“You finish your book?” His voice jolted you.

You looked back to him and sipped the hot coffee. You nodded again.

“I did.” You answered. “It was alright.”

“Just alright?” He asked.

“I’ve read better and worse,” You said. “It was… entertaining.”

“Mmm,” He mumbled and drank his coffee. You mimicked him, eager to leave.

Ten minutes of silence and stunted small talk left your mug empty and your stomach gurgling. You stood and nervously teetered on your feet.

“I should go. It’s snowing already.” You glanced out the window.

“Sure,” He rose and gathered up the mugs and took them to the sink.

“Thank you.” You said and turned rigidly to head through the door.

You trod down the hallway and stopped to pull on your boots. You adjusted your cap and shoved your gloves on. He neared and you pushed open the door and glanced back at him.

“Coffee was good.” You said.

He caught the door behind you and you marched across the porch. You rushed down the steps and shivered as you neared the four wheeler.

“Be careful,” He said in monotone.

“I will, thank you,” You called back as you climb onto the seat. “Enjoy your beans.”

He waved and you turned the engine. You backed up and turned around. The snow had already left a thin powder across the ground. You steered into the trees and carefully began to weave around the trunks and along the uneven forest floor.

The snow thickened the more it fell. You had to slow as the ride became more precarious. The downfall formed a thick carpet beneath the tires and soon, even beneath the shroud of branches, the snow formed a curtain all around you, making it nearly impossible to see. You stopped and left the motor rumbling.

You pulled the radio from its holster down beside the wheel well and turned the dial until you picked up the signal. It was static and crackled.

“Gerry? Gerry!” You held the speak to your lips. “Gerry?”

“Yeah, i--me, ---okay?” His voice went in and out.

“I’m okay but the snow is… I can’t see. It’s going to take me a while.”

“Wha-- breaking up--” The radio broke off with a high pitched scratch.

“Damn it!” You shouted and tried fixing the dial. It didn’t help.

You sat for a moment and put the radio back. You couldn’t stay and let yourself get snowed in. You’d have to keep going, slow but steady. You carefully pulled past the trees, blinking away the flakes as they gathered on your lashes. You stopped again to pulled your scarf higher over your cheeks and pressed on.

The third time you paused, you realised you were lost. A brief lull allowed your vision to clear and you had no idea where you were. You kicked the side of the ATV and cursed. You grabbed the radio again and turned it on.

“Gerry?” No answer. Several more tries with nothing but static.

You hung your head and clicked the radio off. You gripped the handlebars and looked around. You’d have to turn around and try to trace your way back but the snow was starting to get heavy again and--

“Hey,” You jumped as the voice sounded from behind you. “You okay?”

You turned to find Bucky standing by a tree. “How--”

“Looks like you just went in a big circle,” He said. “You’re about ten minutes from my place.”

“What are you doing out here?” You asked.

“Wanted to grab some kindling before the storm got too bad, then I heard you.”

“Kindling?”

“Dry it out, obviously, but might run out of what I have before this clears,” He looked up. “Look, it’s only gonna get worse. Why don’t you wait it out?”

“I don’t-- I can’t--”

“There’s more than enough room for both of us. Might be a bit dusty but… Wouldn’t feel right letting you get lost out here.”

You exhaled and looked at the radio.

“Alright,” You relented.

“I’ll lead the way.” He came up beside the ATV and passed to the front. “Just don’t get too close.”

“Okay,” You turned the throttle just a bit and kept a snail’s pace as he guided you.

He barely seemed bothered by the gusts or the deepening snow. Even as the air turned almost completely white, he didn’t waver though you squinted to keep an eye on him.

“You like beans?” He yelled back to you as he broke through to the clearing around his house.

“Maple beans?” You asked dryly.

“They go great with toast,” He said as he continued onto the shed and unlocked the wide doors. “Warm you right up.”

🪓

You sat at the table, alone. Bucky had excused himself after clearing his own plates. You still picked away at the beans and sausage, listening to the movement above. You scooped the last few bites up and swallowed, washing it down with a gulp of water. You stood and went to the sink to rinse your plate. As you set it in the rack, you were startled by a creak behind you.

“I cleared a bedroom for you. It’s a bit dusty around here.” Bucky said as he leaned against the door frame. “Bit cold, too. Sorry about that.”

“It’s alright,” The windows shuddered. “Better than out there.”

“I put some clothes out too. Might be a little big.” He explained. “Dinner okay?”

“Yeah, it was…” You tried to smile. “Alright. Um, just one second.”

You neared him and he moved aside. You went down the hallway to where your jacket was hung and pulled the radio out. He watched you as you fiddled with it and the speaker crackled on.

“Gerry?” You held it to your lips.

“Kiddo?” He said, clear but not entirely.

“I’m okay,” You said slowly as you held the button down. “Staying until storm clears. Call in morning.”

“Roger, kiddo,” He returned. “Be safe.”

You turned off the radio and placed it back in your coat pocket. You looked up at Bucky as he stared at you dully.

“Just wanted to make sure someone knew,” You said. “Wouldn’t want them to worry.”

“Of course not,” He said. “You want a beer?”

“What?” You were thrown off by the sudden offer.

“Beer. If you want you can grab a book from the study,” He pointed to the doorway opposite the front room. “Sit in front of the fire where it’s warm.”

“I’ll take the book,” You said. “I’m not much for beer though.”

“Hot chocolate? Tea?” He stepped a little closer.

“I’m fine,” You squirmed. “Thank you.”

‘Just let me know if you need anything,” He said softly. “Haven’t had a guest in a while but… I can be accommodating.”

🪓

You read three chapters before you found your way upstairs. Bucky showed you the room he’d prepared for you but didn’t say much more before he closed himself into his own. You changed into the long sleeve tee he left you and the jogging pants with the drawstring waist. You tucked your feet into the wool socks and rolled under the blankets. You were still cold. The top floor was entirely untouched by the fireplace below.

You drifted into a shallow sleep. Maybe an hour or two before you woke, shivering. You sat up and reluctantly climbed out from beneath the covers. You took one of the blankets and wrapped it around you as you shuffled to the door. You slipped through, carefully not to let the hinges whine and plodded through the dark down the stairs.

In the front room, the fire burned a low amber. You crept over to it and took a log from the wrought iron basket just beside it. You placed it over the coals and stoked it with the poker until flames began to lick. You held your hands to the glow until you were no longer shaking.

You took a cushion from the couch and dropped it on the carpet. You laid down before the fire, wrapping yourself in the blanket as you basked in the warmth. You listened to the violent winds outside, softened by the heaps of snow which had gathered all around the cabin. Your eyes closed as you began to sink into the darkness around you.

You dreamt of the four wheeler, of the snow swirling around you, of losing yourself in the pure white. The trees curled and clawed at your as you were thrown from the seat. The snap of twigs filled your ears and your eyes snapped open. The fire popped as it burned, the room lighter but not much.

There was a heaviness around you. More than just the quilt, the thick arm wrapped around your middle held you close to the warmth at your back. Startled, you wriggled against the body and a groan slithered along your ear.

“What the--” You hissed as you grasped his wrist, his hand tucked beneath you. “What are you doing?”

“It’s cold,” His breath was hot as it seeped into your scalp. “You were shivering.”

“Let me go,” You tugged on him.

“Shhh,” He hushed. “It’s early.”

“Dude, not cool,” You pulled harder on his arm.

“Stop,” He said more firmly.

“Get off of me.” You growled.

“You’re not a very gracious guest,” He snarled as he retracted his arm, only to grab your shoulder and push you flat on your back.

You latched onto his wrist, he was strong. He didn’t budge.

“You’re scaring me.”

“Scaring you?” He removed his hand. “How? What do you think I’m gonna do?”

He sat up, his broad shoulder stretched the waffled shirt he wore as he rubbed his eyes. He pushed his head back and took a deep breath. You pushed yourself up slowly beside him.

“What do you want me to do?” His hand settled on your thigh and he squeezed.

“Stop,” You tried to push his hand away and he flipped it to grasp yours.

His grip slipped to your wrist and he twisted. He wrenched it over your head until you were forced onto your back. You cried out as he leaned over you, the blanket slipping entirely from your bodies.

“Came all this way for a few cans of beans,” He whispered. “Really?”

“Stop!” You repeated. “Please.”

“But you’re cold,” He uttered as he leaned closer. “You need to warm up… you’re shivering…” His nose touched yours. “Or… shaking?”

“Get--” His lips smothered yours as he shifted his body atop you.

You struggled as he released your wrist and reached down to grab your knee as he forced his legs between yours. He bit your lip as he pulled and his hand clawed at the waist of the loose pants. He pulled until he snapped the string within and you kicked around him.

“What are you doing?” You beat on his shoulders. “Stop! Stop!”

“I don’t talk to people, they don’t talk to me,” He snarled. “I keep to myself. Even that dumb delivery boy of yours knows better.”

“No, no,” You slapped his chest as he sat up suddenly.

He tore the pants down your legs until they were around your knees and pushed them up. The fabric kept you trapped beneath him, legs bent to your chest as he leaned over your once more. He brushed his nose against your cheek and snarled.

“You asked for this, honey,” He sneered. “You just couldn’t leave me alone… The way you smile at me, I can see it.”

“I was just--” You pushed against him. “--doing my job. Please, get off of me.”

He moved against you, his thighs pressed to yours as he felt between you. He pushed his own pants down and you tried to shove him off of you with your legs. You only made yourself dizzy.

The fire flickered against you, setting shadows across his features, his blue eyes caught the flame and glowed sinisterly. His rough finger tickled your cunt as he guided his cock along your folds. You grunted as you fought harder beneath him. He pressed along your entrance and you gasped, a horrified scream as he impaled you in a single thrust.

“Go on and scream.” He said. “No one will hear you. No one but me.” He jerked his hips and you cried out again. “I kinda like it.”

He moved his hips in sharp, short thrusts. He grunted with each, lower and lower, almost like satisfied purrs.

He sat up and hugged your legs to his torso as he rutted faster. He clung to you as if he was desperate, as if he couldn’t get enough. You scratched at the carpet. You whimpered each time he slammed into you, each tilt of his hips harder than the last. The clapping of your flesh mingled with your voices. You closed your eyes, holding back the sobs that threatened.

And then he stopped. Suddenly. He stayed inside of you as his grasp on you loosened. His body quivered and a low growl rose from him. He pulled out of you and pushed your legs aside to that you fell onto your side. Shakily, you pushed yourself, on knees and elbow you tried to crawl away, your pants tangled around your feet.

He grabbed your ankles and dragged you back as you slipped onto your stomach. He climbed over you, pinning your legs between his. He kneaded and pinched your ass, dusky, thick breaths rose from him.

He pressed his thumb between your cheeks and you reached desperately for anything to get away. The edge of the carpet rolled in your grasp and you kicked your feet with a panicked whine. He pressed his thumb against your asshole and you shook your head as he buried your face in your arms. He pushed inside and you let out a shrill cry.

He poked in and out of you, your tight ring burned around his thumb. He withdrew it and forced his index finger in, then added his middle. Your pained groans only seemed to encourage him as he stretched you around a third finger.

He pulled his hand away and bent his arm over your shoulders as he lifted himself over you. He lined himself up with your ass as his hair hung around his head and brushed the back of yours. He took a breath and you held one in. He entered you slowly, letting out a choked grunt as you strained around him.

The tears pricked at your eyes and your arm shot up as you blind grabbed at air.

“Please, please, please. Stop.” You begged. “I can’t--”

He pushed deeper and your voice fizzled. He pulled back and thrust in again. Every time, he went a little further. Soon he was buried in you to his limit and you couldn’t breathe or move. He held himself inside of you and shuddered.

He began to rock and you moaned. Despite the pain, the fire that radiated from your core, it felt good. The more he did, the better it got. The pressure built, unlike any you’d felt before, and you gulped and groaned against the carpet. Shocked by him, by yourself.

He got faster and faster. Louder two as his snarls filled your head. You tensed and then in an instant, your strength drained from you. You came, harder than you had ever in your life. You murmured as your head lolled and he kept going.

He lifted his head and his fingers gripped the back of your neck as he lifted himself over you. He hammered into you from above as you lay prone and helpless beneath him. He exclaimed and you felt a warmth flow into you.

He stopped and fell atop you. His weight held you down, suffocated you. His arm stretched up and he grabbed your hand, twining his fingers with yours.

“Stay as long as you like,” He rasped. “Snow’s not letting up anytme soon.”

#bucky barnes #dark bucky barnes #dark!bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #dark bucky barnes x reader #dark!bucky barnes x reader #fic #one shot #lumberjack au #lumberjack #au #mcu #marvel #dark fic #dark!fic #challenge

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jadekitty777 · 3 years ago

Text

Hunting Season, Chapter 4

There is not much to say for this chapter beyond... enjoy!

Prompt for Day 4... Which is still Day 4!: Deities......... which barely fits at all LOL but to be fair I don’t think any of them do for this chapter.

Rating: T

Word Count: 2500

Summary: Having grown up in the slums of Mantle, Clover knew what feeling constantly unsafe felt like. But, with rising tensions between the cities, a precarious election leaving his people on the line, and a war on the horizon, things had never felt more perilous.

Then, Qrow Branwen arrives with eight huntsmen-in-training in tow, all of them earnestly offering to help. While the extra assistance is an incalculable relief, Clover simply can’t be more excited – and maybe a little nervous - to be paired up with the famous Huntsman of Vale.

There was only one problem:

Qrow couldn’t stop staring at his ears.

(Or, Volume 7, except Clover is a deer Faunus and that changes everything)

Ao3 Link: With Explosives

It took a few weeks for Clover to appreciate that Qrow was a formidable opponent.

At first, they’d started small. Clover would bring over coffee just for an excuse for their hands to touch. Qrow would slide into his personal space during pre-mission debrief until they were shoulder to shoulder and would find every excuse to bend around him to point things out on the display. A flirty wink here. A sultry smile there. Nothing too obvious, unless someone was really looking.

Then, it escalated. One day, he was joining the other for dinner in a secluded corner of the cafeteria to play a little footsy under the table. The next, Qrow was dropping down on the couch seat beside him in the rec room, throwing an arm along the back as he struck up a too-casual conversation. Following that, Clover made the elder huntsman almost trip when he came to work with a clip-on, chain-wrap earring dangling from his right ear. Qrow paid him back tenfold when he stumbled in the next morning entirely shirtless and played it off as if he hadn’t even noticed.

There was no way anyone was missing it now – but to stop would be to admit defeat.

And Clover so hated to lose.

It seemed the feeling was mutual, because it was on another visit to the mine that Qrow decided to escalate things even further.

It was another supply run – this time to deliver some of the more delicate equipment that would be used to calculate the booster units. The mine itself had been transformed into a makeshift launchpad, the ceiling now blown out and the walls refitted with air compressors. The idea, as he understood it, was that between the compressors and natural upward airflow of the mine, they’d compound together to provide the adequate lift needed for initial takeoff. Then, after launch, the boosters would discharge one by one, continuing to transfer that energy upwards until Amity reached the destination height.

As nothing like this had ever been accomplished before, it was uncertain if it would truly work; but teams were working around the clock to give it their best shot.

Despite that, as Clover and Qrow entered the lower level, it was clear that there was no one to greet them. Most of the construction crew was above them, up in Amity itself, working through the reconstruction project that would provide the tower adequate stability up in space. With Penny and Ruby also outside guarding the truck, that left them alone and it was at that moment, Qrow decided to reveal how dirty he could play.

“So,” Qrow asked with a grunt as he set the crate he was carrying down, “You ever heard of a place called The Nightingale?”

Clover almost dropped his own crate on his foot. “Uh. It’s, a nightclub. Why?”

“No reason.” Qrow said just a little too casually as he worked out his shoulder. “Some of Yang’s buddies from around here keep asking her to join them. Just want to make sure it’s legit.”

“I see. Well, you don’t have to worry.” He assured while he circled the area, making sure everything was in its place. “Everything’s very up to standard. They card everyone and make them wear colored wrist bands so no illegal drinking happens.”

The other huntsman rose a brow, mouth stretching into a lazy smirk, “You seem to know a lot about it. You wouldn’t of happened to of… frequented it yourself, did you?”

He snorted at the mere thought of it. “Think I’d stick out a bit, considering it’s a hotspot for the younger recruits.” He flickered an ear, just to be annoying. “Among other things.”

“Ah. So, Rainbow Hollow is more your style.” Not a lot of people knew that one – it was a Faunus-specific club down in the orange district of Mantle.

A gay Faunus club.

Clover didn’t know whether to be impressed or worried about how prepared Qrow was for this conversation. “Haven’t been in a long time but yeah, that used to be my go-to.”

“Hah. Would pay some good money to see that.”

“See what?”

“You, pulling that stick outta your ass long enough to cut it on the dance floor.” That smirk had turned predatory.

Clover leered right back. “Oh hon, I didn’t go to that club to have things out of my ass. I also-” He rocked his body back and slightly to the right, swinging his arms outwards then back towards himself while also kicking out his left leg and sliding it back along the floor, before swinging back upright. “-Can dance pretty well.”

“You’ve got some rhythm at least.” Qrow conceded, his looking smoldering. “Unfortunately for you, you’re facing a pro.”

Unfortunately? He was about to tease the other for the pun – only for his jaw to drop open when Qrow suddenly twisted around with a hop and, using the momentum of the movement, did a full aerial flip, extended legs rotating around himself in a perfect circle, cape fanning out after him. He landed gracefully, knees slightly bent before he pulled the rest of himself back up into a standing position.

Brain short-circuiting, Clover could only manage a soft, “Wow.”

“Told you so.”

“Alright, I admit defeat. You still can’t use that in a club though.” He pointed out.

Qrow rolled his eyes, swinging his hips as he geared up for another move. “What, you want me to prove I can do some lame little shimmy’s? Because I absolutely ca-wah!” His demonstration was cut short as his back heel caught a patch of ice.

Just as he went down, Clover lurched forward to catch him, fingers clutching around his forearm as his other arm came around his waist. It was strikingly familiar to their first mission; except this time, Qrow was facing him, their wide-eyed gazes meeting. Clover didn’t pull him back up immediately, letting the other linger there as if they’d been mid-dip.

Neither of them spoke, encaptivated in a spell that would surely be broken by sound.

This close, Clover could feel the way the other’s breathing had picked up just slightly.

Slowly, Qrow reached up with his free hand, tentative but purposeful in its path.

He felt the lightest touch of fingertips skim along his jaw. Tender. Electrifying.

He wanted to hold him like this for just a little longer.

He wanted to kis-

“We’ve got an emergency!” And just like that Ruby’s screech echoing in his ear had him jerking back and snapping upright, bringing the other with him.

Dazed and hurt, Qrow started to say, “What-”

Then immediately shut up as Clover hit the comms on his earpiece and called back, “What’s the situation Ruby?”

“A herd of Megoliath are stampeding right for the mine!”

It only took one look at his expression for his partner to start sprinting – though Clover wasn’t far behind. “How many and how far?”

“Three, sir.” Penny’s analytical speech filled his head instead. “They are approximately 2000 meters away. We have already attempted to alter their path to no success.”

“Keep trying! We’ll be there soon team. Hang in there.” Clover said, already seeing the snowy-white brightness filtering in from the exit. He extended Kingfisher, picking up his stride until he was racing beside Qrow, the two of them bursting out onto the scene together.

Ruby’s bright red cape fluttering in the wind caught his eye first. Like a paladin, she stood a fair distance away from the oncoming Grimm. Ahead of her, Penny was rocketing backwards in midair, shooting off small green beams from her whirling swords. He thought, perhaps, Ruby was going to try something long range with her sniper – but her weapon was resting, lax, in her hands as if it hadn’t even crossed her mind to raise it.

Had she frozen up?

He took a breath, about to shout, when a scream caught his attention. A trail of green followed Penny as the robot took a direct hit from one of the Megoliath’s trunks and dropped from the sky.

“Penny!” Ruby snapped into action, rose petals bursting in her wake as she cleared the distance in milliseconds, crashing into Penny and using their combined momentum to dodge out of the way of the Grimm’s massive feet before they could be trampled.

A quick look told him they were okay and already pulling themselves to their feet – but this wasn’t looking good. Though Megoliaths weren’t fast, their long strides more than made up for it and their bulk meant that only heavy hits were going to bring them down. They had maybe a little over a minute before the giants would be on the launch site. They had to act now.

Clover hit the button on his communicator, rapid-firing commands, “Listen up! Penny, focus all your blasters on the rightmost Grimm. Ruby, Qrow, cut the legs of the middle one. I’ll redirect the last one. Move, now!”

Harbinger’s gears cranked as it unfurled into scythe form, Qrow angling the curve of the blade behind Clover. “Need a boost?”

“Would help.” The gravel of the runway underfoot gave way to snow as they continued to race towards the oncoming monsters, the distance getting smaller by the second. He winked at his partner. “Good luck!”

“Oh, shut up and jump!”

He took the command in stride, hopping up. Metal slid underfoot, the makeshift platform sleek but firm as he hunched down. Qrow’s lithe form betrayed all the strength he truly held, as he swung Clover and his weapon upwards. On the apex of the swing, Qrow fired off the shotgun. Clover vaulted at the same moment, the ricochet adding to the propulsion, thrusting him further and higher.

He met his Grimm’s eyes as he flew past its enormous head. Twisting midair, he got a brief glimpse of the battlefield from above – Qrow shifting his scythe behind himself now as he braced himself for his strike; petals landing in the snow as Ruby zipped to her uncle’s side; Penny dropping down on the runway, swords spinning as she charged a full-strike blast.

In that moment, Clover felt no worry. He knew his team would pull through.

Just like he knew that with a flick of his pin and a lunge of his arm, his hook would fly true. He heard the line reel as it wound around the left side of the Megoliath’s skull mask. He dropped down atop the beast’s back, balancing on the jutting bone structure that protected it’s spine like an armadillo shell. Vibrations rattled his body as the creature continued to charge forward, unbothered by its passenger.

Come on. Turn. Turn. Clover thought with all his luck, as he yanked the rod up and sideways, pulling the beast’s head with it. Turn!

Asphalt shattered as the Grimm took its first step on the runway, but it’s second foot fell back onto the ice, course wavering. Hope bloomed in Clover’s heart, and he reeled his line tighter, jerking the Megoliath’s head further sideways. Further and further until he heard the Snneck! of the tension of his line running out and – Yes!

He nearly whooped aloud as the Grimm fully changed direction, now parallel with the mine.

No sooner had the exhilaration inflated, did it pop with sudden dread as he realized exactly what they were gunning towards. Several storage containers had been set up around the site to hold onto the extra materials for the construction crews. A few, like the one they were rapidly approaching, even stored explosive dust.

With less than 100 yards between it and them, just seconds away from impact, Clover knew he had no hope of turning the beast in time. He slackened his line, snapping it to undo the hook. He started to reel it in as he about-faced, sprinting down the length of the mammoth’s back. He leapt off its hindquarters.

For a second, he was flying again.

Snneck! His line screeched at him.

His body jolted, motion entirely halted; heart leaping into his throat as the snag dragged him back.

He released the hold on his weapon, dropping like a stone from the air.

He hadn’t even landed before the Megoliath reached the unit. Metal groaned as it tore like paper under the creature’s immense weight.

Everything after was chaos. There was a roar in his ears and heat at his back, searing his aura to nothing. His body flung forward. Everything spun together, blue and white blending like a tornado until he knew not what was up or down.

Then, he impacted with something and it was all just white.

“-My fault-”

“Not your-”

Voices filtering in and out around Clover roused him. Sleep pulled away slowly, his senses having to shift through the heaviness in his head. The ache that permeated nearly every inch of his body became more present as his hearing started to sharpen, until the indistinguishable voices became clear.

“If I had just gotten my eyes to work-” That was Ruby, sounding unusually distressed.

“Your eyes can only do so much.” And that was Qrow, very close. Reassuring his niece about… what exactly?

“It’s still my responsibility to-” Her voice rising in pitch was like a dagger straight to his brain.

Clover cringed, gritting out between his teeth, “Volume.”

Ruby gasped and above him, Qrow’s quietly rumbled, “Clubs?”

Wait.

…Above?

He dared peel open his eyes, only to immediately regret it as the lighting of the cavern, dim as it was, assaulted him. Even as he shut them again with a groan, awareness hadn’t completely slipped away from him. Because the sea of dark gray following his line of vision was Qrow’s pant leg. Which meant his head was absolutely laying in the other huntsman’s lap.

He wished he wasn’t currently dying from a head implosion so he could enjoy it.

“Think I got a concussion.” He mumbled, taking stock of the rest of himself while he was at it. Nothing felt broken at least, but the bruising was going to be godsawful. Must have been a hell of a battle, the details of which were escaping him at the moment.

“Not surprising after a face plant like that.”

How attractive. Truly must have been his finest moment.

Oblivious to his scathing thoughts, Qrow continued, “Go back to sleep. The transport’s-”

“Approximately two minutes and twenty-three seconds away.” Penny cut in.

Her robotic drone, while normally appealing and calming, held none of that in that moment. The slight static to her voice box seemed to grate at his over-sensitive hearing. He struggled to yank down the ear not pinned against Qrow’s leg, but the pull on his skull felt excruciating, a noise of discomfort bubbling past his lips.

Unable to get it to respond in time before Penny was speaking again, “Captain, what-”

Then, suddenly, she was muffled as a slender hand dotted with rings covered his ear. The rhombus-like curve folded against the side of his head, with enough pressure to block out the sound but not quite enough to hurt.

“Let’s just cut the chatter until we get back, okay?” Qrow said, muffled.

Relief swept through him, mumbling out a soft thanks.

He was asleep well before the transport landed, lulled away by the soothing sensation of Qrow’s thumb stroking along his fur.

#fair game #fairgameweek2022 #clover ebi #qrow branwen #rwby #fanfiction #Chase Firekitten's Tale

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filmflowersbangtan · 4 years ago

Text

Dead of Night (preview)

pairing: gang member!jungkook x reader

genre: angst, fluff

warnings: swearing | drug mention | gangs | in the full story, there will be violence, blood, fighting, threatening

preview word count: 4k

you meet jungkook in a diner in the early morning where it’s just the two of you in the entire place. An interesting relationship ensues, and you find out he’s not who you thought he was. He’s a prominent member of the city’s most powerful gang, surrounded by danger and trouble. But you still want him.

author’s note: I sincerely apologize for being gone for so long and for not updating any of my fics. To everyone waiting on IMSWY pt. ii: I am so sorry for taking so long with it. It’s still in my WIPs, and I haven’t given up on it yet, but it is on the back burner right now since I have many other ideas bubbling up that I absolutely have to write or else they will probably internally set me aflame (lol).

I will be deleting many of my fics soon. I will be keeping “Unbound,” “I Must Still Want You,” “Heartbreaker with a Heart of Gold,” and “Lonely Planets.” Everything else I will be deleting because I have no desire to finish working on them or I simply do not like them anymore and can’t see them going anywhere.

I also will probably not be writing anymore series. Everything will most likely be one shot because every time I start a series, I get too overwhelmed with the idea of updating parts and finishing them that I just end up postponing them for too long and leaving too many people who have been looking forward to them disappointed. I do want to say that I have been going through So Much since I last posted Lonely Planets pt. ii and IMSWY, but I am in a so so so much better place now. That’s why I’m even writing this story now.

This will be a oneshot. It will not be a series. It will be very long. I am almost finished with it, but I am posting this preview just to see if you all would like to continue reading it.

Thank you all. I appreciate all the feedback and the follows and the reblogs so, so much. The feedback and the reblogs of Heartbreaker with a Heart of Gold is what really motivated me to write this one. I hope you all enjoy it. 😊

Being alone was like an addiction. It was fulfilling and appealing and…well, lonely.

Two in the morning diner stops during the weekdays had become routine. The place was completely empty save for a waitress and a cook and maybe a tired trucker. You tucked yourself in a booth in the back. The vinyl seats were cracked and uncomfortable, the lighting was stark and washed everything raw. But it was comforting. Sleep was evasive and your apartment was barely unpacked, boxes stacked haphazardly in the dining area and the mattress on the living room floor. It was your idea to move to this vast city far away from home. This city swallowed everything in its incessant noise. Nocturnal and teeming with cars and neon lights. It never rested and the two of you had that in common. You took solace in that.

The air was thick with bacon grease and bitter black coffee. Every morning you had waffles and orange juice. The refills were free and the waffles were the exact same circumference as the plate underneath it. Time was stagnant here. The city pressed against the plate glass windows, but the reflections from inside barred its entry. If you looked out, you simply stared directly at yourself. Maybe there was some kind of metaphor in that.

The night shift waitress, Bethany, set your plate of steaming waffles on the table as well as a glass syrup dispenser. She knew you by name and you thanked her for the food. She smiled sweetly and left you be.

The door chimed, denoting the entry of another patron. You didn’t look up. Bethany greeted the person in her cheerful customer service voice. You knew she didn’t actually sound like that. Once, you glimpsed her smoking a cigarette by the dumpster at the back of the diner arguing with her boyfriend on her cell phone. She had a tired voice. You wondered if she was lonely, too.

As you ate, Bethany took the patron’s order. From where you sat, his voice was a mumble. “You got it!” Bethany said before breezing away.

You glanced up from your food at the patron. Hair dyed blond, dark brown at the roots. He had a gentle face and a mouth made for smiling or furtively suppressing them. Tattoos were stippled on his arm all the way down to his knuckles. He was staring down at his phone, his fingers were slender and embellished with many silver rings. He was impossibly handsome. A paragon of beauty.

And he looked up. Right at you. Why was it at that moment you happened to notice him, he decided to notice you, too?

Your scalp prickled with hot embarrassment. You immediately averted your eyes back to your waffles. There was only a bite remaining. Good. You could finish, get your check, pay, and leave.

Boldly, you chanced another glimpse. He did, too. This time, a smile, broad and lovely, stretched across his face. It was endearing and intimate and you had never felt so seen. It was exhilarating. A small smile crept onto your mouth. You couldn’t help it. His smile was contagious.

This was how the following hour went. Weighted glances and secret smiles from across the room. He received his food, and he picked up his plate and mug of coffee and…was he coming this way?

You watched him, eyes wide, as he sauntered over to your booth and set his items on your table. “May I sit?” he said. His voice was the perfect match to his face. Smooth, sonorous, soft. Crushed velvet.

Jerkily, like you had never done it before, you nodded. He sat. “Hi,” he said.

“Hi,” you replied.

“I’m Jungkook.”

You told him your name. He repeated it once, twice, thrice. Like he enjoyed the feel of it in his mouth, rolling it around like a piece of hard candy he didn’t want to dissolve on his tongue just yet. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.” He reached his hand over the table. You smiled and shook it.

His plate was piled with pancakes and sausages and scrambled eggs. He dug in. In between bites, he asked, “So what brings you here at this time of night?” “I have trouble sleeping. And you?” Your chest was tight with the awkwardness of it all, but he appeared to be perfectly at ease.

“I’m just a night owl. Or I’m a vampire.” He shrugged nonchalantly as he continued eating.

Surprisingly, laughter bubbled from you until you couldn’t help the giggles that shook you. How long had it been since you had a conversation with anyone? Your store had been a drought for the past month, only a couple of people coming in a day. You didn’t call home because your parents would ask how you’ve been, and that topic lit a fire in your skull. Bethany was just a waitress doing her job. And Nora was always busy. It was refreshing to have someone sit with you. Talk with you. Want to be near you.

His eyes danced at the sound of your laughter. It was an innocuous expression, boyish in how pure it was.

You covered your mouth with your hands to mask the laughter. And he gently grabbed your wrist and removed them. “I like your laugh.”

Butterflies unfurled their wings in your stomach and fluttered in a frantic cluster. He resumed his meal as if nothing happened. “So what do you do?”

You cleared your throat. “I own a used book and record store downtown. It’s small and kind of hidden from the street, but it’s there.” You chuckled nervously. You were proud of that store, but you might have to close it down soon and return to your hometown with your tail tucked in between your legs if the revenue continued as it did.

His eyebrows shot up. “Wow. That’s super cool. I like records. Books, not so much. Where is it located?”

You told him the address. “By that bodega on the corner.”

“The one that sells the really good blue raspberry shaved ice?”

You snapped your fingers. “That’s the one.”

“I’ll definitely have to stop by.”

This was how the next few hours went. Talking about everything and nothing. He had lived in the city his entire life, worked as a freelance artist, had an apartment not too far away. Plates had been swept away by Bethany long ago. Refills poured, drained, and poured again.

And then, “Do you maybe want to get out of here? Kick it at my place?” Jungkook asked. His expression was open and genuine.

You didn’t know if that was a good idea. But talking to him was stimulating and you didn’t want it to end.

He noticed your hesitation. “Turn you location on your phone, I’ll even give you my address so you can send it to your friends. Anything to make you feel comfortable.”

He was right. He didn’t live that far. It was barely past five o’ clock in the morning, the city was still awake, billboards alight. The buildings towered, dark against the predawn blue of the sky. The apartment building was modest and typical of the city. Clean and affordable but just expensive enough to be appealing to a specific demographic of college students and those with decent enough jobs. His apartment was on the third floor and was charming with brick walls and high ceilings. There was a bookshelf packed with vinyl records, even more in milk crates. A record player in pristine condition sat on an end table beside an armchair.

“Welcome to my humble abode,” Jungkook said, shrugging off his jacket and hanging it on a hook beside the front door.

“You said you liked records,” you replied, browsing his collection.

“I did.”

“This isn’t liking records. This is a goddamn treasure trove.” You pushed your hair behind your ear, eager to move it from your face. “Bowie, Billie Holiday, Bob Dylan, Prince. You even have a rare version of Hendrix’s Electric Ladyland. With the naked women! This is incredible.”

He laughed. “I see you are a woman of taste.”

“If only my dad could see this. I’m afraid to touch anything.”

“I’m sure you don’t have clumsy hands with records. Since you have a record store and all.”

You laughed. “I appreciate the trust.”

“So what would you like to listen to?”

You mulled it over, taking your time examining the sleeves of the records. Then you found one.

He smiled when you showed him the cover art. “Perfect.”

Frank Ocean’s Blond. A modern classic. Perfect for the liminal hour of five AM.

Jungkook slipped it from its sleeve, fingers on the slim rounded edges of the record. He carefully settled it on the turntable, placed the needle on the disc, and played the album. There was the classic crackle of vinyl, and then the first track emanated. It was a phantasm of sound, rich and ethereal. Light but weighted. The song was the deep blue of the sky before the sun decided to pull itself above the horizon and emblazon the sky with its myriad of colors. It was the perfect song for this liquid moment that felt like a dream. This beautiful stranger standing before you with his incredible collection.

And then you were in Jungkook’s arms, slowly swaying to the music. You smiled up at him and him down at you.

The album continued on in the living room, serenading to no one. You and Jungkook had moved to the bedroom, lounging on the bed. The horizon blushed peach, casting the room in half-light. You both lay on your backs, him with an arm slung casually behind his head, you with your hands folded delicately on your stomach.

“Thank you for paying for my meal today,” you said to him meekly.

He smiled. “Thank you for the great conversation. And having an amazing taste in music.”

You laughed. “What made you come sit with me anyway?”

That was when he looked at you, his mouth still slung in a smile, but his eyes sincere. “Because you’re beautiful.”

Your cheeks went hot and you giggled nervously, covering it with your hands. He rolled over and carefully removed them, his eyes on yours. For a brief moment, time was still. Your breath caught in your throat. He was so close. His lips were so close. Your noses were just barely brushing. His voice was husky when he said, “I like your laugh.”

And then he kissed you.

In the living room, Frank Ocean sang about nights and new beginnings.

In the bedroom, you and Jungkook were breathless. Hands on thighs. Hands in hair. Teeth on collarbones. It was a innocent hunger, one that never got too peckish. He was careful with you, didn’t dare to remove your clothes. “I like you,” he breathed into your neck. You gasped at the sensation.

You kissed until you both eventually succumbed to sleep, the morning sun pouring drowsy golden light across the room.

It was well into the afternoon when you woke to the sound of a shower running. The room was unfamiliar. Definitely not your barren apartment with the boxes strewn about the place. And you definitely weren’t on your living room mattress tangled amongst its waves of sheets. The bed you were in was the most comfortable you’ve ever experienced. Brick walls, plants, beautiful abstract canvas paintings leaning against the wall. Then you remembered.

The diner. The vinyl collection. The sunrise. The kiss.

Jungkook.

He was in the shower and you were fully dressed and the night had to have been a dream. But it wasn’t. Reality settled back onto your shoulders in agonizing waves. You were hours late opening the store. But oh, you wanted to burrow into these soft, sweet-smelling sheets and dissolve into nothing. Eventually you got up.

The door to the bathroom was open. You thought about telling him you were leaving, but instead, you drew your name and number into the mirror steam and went home to shower and change yourself.

An entire week went by and he never called. He didn’t return to the diner, either. It hurt. Every time you lay on your side, willing yourself to sleep, the phantom feeling of his hands and lips barreled you at such an unwelcome rush you would gasp. None of it was real. You had to keep telling yourself that. None of it was real.

Life went back to normal. Jungkook was a fleeting daydream that sifted in and out of your thoughts. The store still barely got any customers, except for the same two or three crate diggers who visited like ghosts. And then Nora, your best friend, breezed through the door. She was a city girl through and through. Large sunglasses, the omnipresent iced coffee, the expensive wardrobe curated specifically for being in front of a camera. She was partly why you moved here. The two of you were from the same hometown, and she had escaped first to chase the tail of a fashion designer career.

“Move here!” she had said during a phone call. “You’ll love it. You’re super hipster and this city eats that shit up! And you can open up that record and book store you always dreamed of.”

She wasn’t wrong. You loved this city but this city seemed to not love you back. Now, she pushed her sunglasses up into her hair and set her iced coffee on the counter top before you. You were sitting behind the register, feet up and reading a book when she had come in. You looked up from the paperback in your hands. “And what have I done to deserve your presence, Your Highness?”

“Good morning, dork! We’re going to a party.”

You kicked your feet down. Slipped a bookmark in the book and closed it. And you simply said, “No.”

She blinked, her smile stiff. “Why not?”

“You know I have to open this place every single morning. I can’t go to a party and get drunk and miss another opening.”

“Stop making this store your entire life.”

“It is my entire life.”

“Well, live another one. Just for one night.” She clasped her hands together and actually pouted. “Please.”

You sighed. “You don’t have anyone else to go with?”

She perked up and tossed her hair over her shoulder. “Oh, I do. I just want you to go with me. I want you to have fun for once. All you’ve done since you been here was work.”

Every single dollar and penny from your savings went to this store. It was your lifelong dream. And Nora—lovely, naïve Nora—had never needed to work for anything a day in her life. She meant well. She was never intentionally ignorant. But that didn’t make it any less frustrating.

She also didn’t know of your time with Jungkook. It was embarrassing that he never called. It angered you that he called you beautiful and said he liked you only for it all to be false. Thank goodness you didn’t have sex with him.

“I’ll have fun once I’m a millionaire or something,” you said to Nora.

She huffed. “I can find you someone to cover the shop for the night. You won’t even have to pay them. Please just come with me.”

“No. What if they steal something.”

She stared at you flatly. “Do you really think any of my friends—my friends—would steal? Let alone steal any of this stuff? No offense.”

“Why do you want me to go so badly?”

“I already said. Fun. You know, music, drinks, guys.” She sang the last word and accompanied it with a little shimmy.

“I have plenty of music and I can buy my own drinks.”

She slammed her hand against the counter top, startling you. “Stop being fucking difficult and come have some fun with me.”

So, grudgingly, you went. Albeit late because you didn’t trust anyone else to close the shop for you, but you went nonetheless. Nora did your makeup. Just glitter eyeshadow and a little eyeliner because you insisted you didn’t want much. And she picked out your outfit—a black lace bra, a crop top cardigan, and a pair of white shorts.

“Because I can’t dress myself?” you grumbled, sliding on the clothes.

“Exactly that. You dress too…hipster-y. You need to be hot for tonight.”

You hadn’t worn that bra since you dated Namjoon. He was pretentious and arrogant and such a city boy it made you lightheaded. You met when he waltzed into the store shortly after you moved here. He smiled at you and you practically melted. The books were what he came for. He bought a Russian classic novel and at checkout, he discussed with you the allegory of sharing fruit in literature. He was eloquent and intelligent and so damn gorgeous you fell for him in that same moment. He scribbled his number on the receipt and told you to keep it.

The relationship lasted for four months. He suggested you move into his high rise apartment downtown with him. It was a modern edifice, all glass and steel and money. He was the wealthiest person you had ever met in your life. And, stupidly, you were in love.

And then you saw his text messages with some unfairly beautiful girl he followed on social media about how good she looked in his bed . He said he was lonely, that you worked too much, what else was he supposed to do? Needless to say, you left him. And you hadn’t seen him since.

Now, Nora said to you, “And don’t think about wearing those fucking platform boots.”

“Why not?” you said, frowning. “They’re cute.”

“They look ridiculous. Like those boots that one goth girl from that cartoon you like wore.”

You grinned, mischievous. “That’s exactly why I bought them.”

To Nora’s dismay, you wore the fucking platform boots.

The party was in an underground venue. It wasn’t all red wine and an elaborate excuse to brag about money, like the gatherings Namjoon liked, it was edgy. A live band played pop punk on a stage, the lights in the place were dim save for the spotlights and the white Christmas lights behind the bar. Greasy pizza and liquor and neon lights. You brushed elbows with someone smoking a joint, and you were pretty sure someone was doing coke in the bathroom.

Nora pulled you to the bar where she ordered herself a cocktail and you a craft beer. She knew you so well.

There were so many people here. You mentally kicked yourself for not bringing flyers for your store.

And then you saw him. Nora was talking your ear off about how hot the frontman for the band was and you almost choked on your beer.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” you spat.

Nora blinked rapidly. “What? What happened?”

“This is why you brought me here. You cunt.” You didn’t mean to call her that. It wasn’t a word worn with frequent use in your vocabulary. In fact, you hated the word. But it was deserved in this situation.

Namjoon. He was standing near the stage with a craft beer of his own in his hand, bobbing his head to the music. He didn’t like places like this. They were tacky to him. He didn’t even listen to this genre of music. What the hell was he doing here?

The girl standing next to him turned to him and smiled. She was wearing lipstick as red as murder and her bob was so black it reflected the lights with an envious luster. She had a septum piercing, the two silver balls glittering in the low light like two tiny stars. That’s when it clicked. He was here because of her. She was that unfairly beautiful girl in his text messages. Your skin felt incandescent.

“He had to see how hot you are. I thought you would enjoy shoving that in his face.” Lovely, naïve Nora. You wanted to slap her.

You stood from the bar stool and set your craft beer on the bar. “I’m leaving now.”

Her face was slack with regret. Before she could form an apology, you turned and walked away.

You were a few moments from the door when you heard your name. It wasn’t Nora. You stopped and your breath hitched. Your turned slowly, preparing to see Namjoon with that girl by his side but instead—

“Jungkook?”

His hair was black now and almost as shiny as that girl’s bob. It hung past his ears in gentle waves. He stood there in a baggy black shirt and jeans, his thumbs tucked into the front pockets. Silver bracelets draped from both wrists. In this lighting, he looked ethereal. Infernal. This couldn’t be the same man you shared a chimerical morning with. He looked like he had been created by the darkness of the city’s nights.

Maybe it was just the hair.

“Hi,” he said in the same way he did when he sat your table at the diner. It could’ve been mistaken as sheepishness, but his eyes were not meek. Besides the hair, you couldn’t figure out what was so different about him.

Breathlessly, you said, “Hi.”

“You look nice.”

Over his shoulder, you noticed Namjoon go to the bar. Nora scowled at him. He smiled amicably at her and his mouth moved, saying something. She froze, and her eyes immediately darted to you. Namjoon turned and saw you. And he started your way.

“Are you okay?” Jungkook asked.

You should’ve ran out of the venue. There were a million other things you should’ve done, but instead you grabbed Jungkook and kissed him.

Initially, he went rigid with shock, but he melted into the kiss. You felt him smile against your mouth. “Miss me that much?”

You pulled away. “I did not.” A glance over his shoulder and Namjoon was gone. You audibly exhaled.

“What happened?”

You ran a hand over your face. “Ex.”

“Ah,” he said. “Is that why you were leaving?”

“Yes. And now I’m going. Goodbye.” You whirled around, shoulders tense with embarrassment and headed for the stairs.

“Wait.” He caught up to you on the stairs. “Can I go with?” There were small white string lights strung in the stairwell and the glow reflected in his eyes. They were so brown.

“Don’t you have friends to be with?” Your phone buzzed in your back pocket with an incoming text message. Most likely your own friend dying to know who the guy you just kissed was. You ignored it.

“They’ll be fine.” He grinned.

“Okay,” you said, feeling yourself smile as well.

There was no destination, but you ended up at a park, sitting beside each other on a swing set. Your feet dragged in the wood chips as you pushed yourself back and forth slowly. He looked up at the night sky and sighed. “Do you want to know why I hadn’t called?”

You just looked at him.

“This may sound like a corny excuse, but… I was afraid of what you would think of me.”

Your eyebrows furrowed. “What do you mean?”

He hesitated before saying, “If we continued seeing each other, you would eventually find out that I’m not a freelance artist. I do paint, but that’s not what I do.”

You could feel your heartbeat gradually speeding its pace. “What do you do?” His eyes fell down to his hands. He turned them over, studying the lines in his palms. His hair slipped over his eyes. He was a portrait of affliction. “I’m a Lost Boy.”

You didn’t understand. He noticed your silence and looked up at you. “The Lost Boys. This city is practically run by them.” He corrected himself, “Ran by us.” He stopped, closed his eyes, and sighed. “I’m in a gang.”

Your voice was a whisper. “What?”

He quickly added, “If you no longer want to associate with me, I understand. They’re—we’re—dangerous. I mean, even if you haven’t heard of us, you know us. The leather jackets, the vandalism, the fights. That venue is owned by us. The drugs at that event were supplied by us. That band playing is in our pockets. My apartment is paid by dirty money.” He laughed quietly to himself then, almost pityingly.

The night air around you was thick with your own dread. “Is being around you dangerous?” You hadn’t meant for your voice to sound so small.

“I won’t hurt you, if that’s what you’re asking.” You could hear the unsaid “but” in his tone.

“But what?” you prompted.

He chewed on his lip. A dimple in his left cheek appeared. “I won’t hurt you, but I can’t promise your safety. If you do decide to be around me.”

#bts #jeon jungkook #jungkook #jungkook fanfic #jeon jungkook fanfic #kpop #bts fanfic #kpop fanfic #bts jeon jungkook

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swan-of-sunrise · 4 years ago

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Specs and the Flyboy (Chapter Nineteen-Part Three)

Summary: (Y/N), Jack and their friends finally face off against Leviathan and the Secret Empire.

Pairing: Jack Thompson X Reader

Word Count: 4.1k

Warnings/Disclaimers: None

A/N: Ya girl wrote this while dealing with sleep deprivation, cramps and the after effects of the vaccine, so I hope it’s good ‘cause at this point I can’t even tell lol Thank you all so much for reading! I hope that you enjoy!

Chapter Nineteen (Part III) Leviathan’s Weapons Facility, Lithuanian Soviet Socialist Republic (Previous Chapter)

While the two of them were ushered down the staircase that led into the crate-filled warehouse by Michael and Dottie, (Y/N)’s mind raced as she struggled to think of a way out of their current conundrum. I’ve been in plenty of tough scrapes before but even I’ll admit that this one’s the toughest one yet, she thought to herself, her eyes rapidly scanning the large room; there were large, frost-covered windows towards the ceiling, several boarded-up skylights and the two metal doors she spotted were both guarded by Leviathan soldiers. By the time they reached the base of the stairs, (Y/N) had counted a total of twenty armed enemy operatives – seventeen Leviathan guards, Attwell, Underwood and Michael Carter – and from the brief glimpse she’d gotten of their friends hidden behind a stack of crates, it looked as though both Pinkerton and Sawyer were badly injured and the others were trying to bandage their blood-soaked wounds. So, we’re out-gunned and out-numbered, she concluded with a sinking feeling as she bit her lip in worry.

“So, Chief Thompson did survive his daring escape!” Attwell grinned, walking out into the empty space amidst the crates and standing before the two of them. “Truth be told, I was hoping that we’d meet again; I detest leaving loose ends, and killing the SSR’s golden boy once and for all would’ve been a genuine pleasure.”

Beside (Y/N), Jack’s shoulders tensed but he tilted his head to the side in mock contemplation. “What, you couldn’t do it without your Leviathan goons backing you up? What a real tough guy.”

Attwell’s fist quickly connected with Jack’s stomach and when he doubled over in pain, the man struck him across the face and sent him sprawling to the ground. “Stop it!” (Y/N) started towards her partner but the sudden feeling of a pistol barrel against the back of her neck stopped her cold; tearing her eyes away from Jack, she met Attwell’s gaze and struggled to keep her voice steady as she spoke, “He’s not the one who’s screwing up your deal with Leviathan, I am.”

“Of course, of course, the infamous codebreaker.” Attwell stepped closer but she held her ground, raising her chin in defiance and refusing to look away despite how uncomfortable his stare made her feel. After a tension-filled moment, his face broke out into a stomach-churning smirk. “It’s a shame that such promising talent’s being squandered by the SSR, by those who dismiss and condescend you at every turn. I was very much like you before joining Hydra; I was overshadowed at Cambridge by my perfect older brother and his two brilliant flatmates; while William, Michael and Adam flourished in their respective fields of study, I floundered and was subsequently expelled but as luck would have it, I was approached by Hydra and offered a chance to unlock my true potential; and here I stand before you, Agent (Y/L/N), to offer you that very-same chance. With the new Leviathan, your immeasurable skills would not only be recognized but they’d also be celebrated. You and Michael could work side-by-side in our efforts to break through as the world’s leading superpower and once we achieve our goal of fully weaponizing Zodiac, Agent (Y/L/N), you’ll have everything you’ve ever truly desired.”

Out of the corner of her eye, (Y/N) noticed Jack’s hand resting on his waist and while Attwell talked, her partner’s index finger had tapped away. It only took her seconds to realize he was sending out a message in Morse Code on the walkie-talkie still clipped onto his belt and once she did, she knew exactly what she needed to do.

“You know, it’s a good thing you’re decent at codebreaking, Specs, ‘cause you’d make a pretty shit spy. You fidget too much.”

If Jack can think up an off-the-cuff plan to get us out of this mess then I can buy us all a little time by being a good spy, she thought with resolve just as Attwell finished up his speech. Taking a page out of her partner’s book, (Y/N) raised an incredulous brow at the man as the corner of her mouth curled into a humorless smile. “There was a time when I would’ve given just about anything for people to recognize me and my skills, to appreciate just how hard I’ve worked to get where I am today. But then I grew up and realized that the only person whose appreciation I needed was my own. Mr. Attwell, I don’t need to be celebrated or appreciated by anyone, but especially not by a pathetic imitation of the Red Skull.”

The man’s expression instantly grew cold at the comparison. “Then it would seem that you’re of no use to us.” His gaze shifted to look at whoever was holding her at gunpoint and he nodded. “Shoot her, Michael.”

“Stop!” All of them looked over just as Peggy jumped out from behind their makeshift barricade with her rifle pointed directly at Attwell. “I’ll give you the key.”

“Peggy, no!” The barrel of the pistol pressed harder into (Y/N)’s neck and she winced in pain. However, her horror was quickly replaced with dawning comprehension when Peggy flashed her a pointed look before briefly glancing in Jack’s direction. She knows about whatever Jack’s planning, she silently realized, playing along with her old friend’s ruse by rearranging her features into a look of righteous indignation.

Moving to stand beside Attwell, Dottie raised the hand that wasn’t holding her rifle and gave the younger woman a small wave. “Hiya, Peggy. You know, you really should’ve listened to me back in New York; I told you there were currencies in the world stronger than money. I practically spelled all of this out for you! But the great Peggy Carter couldn’t figure it all out on her own, so she needed the help of…” Dottie turned to (Y/N) with a frown. “What’re those revolting nicknames you call each-? Oh, never mind, I don’t want to know.” Turning back to Peggy, the spy shrugged. “Well, I suppose not everyone’s perfect, are they?”

“No, they’re certainly not.” Attwell agreed, gesturing with his head for Peggy to lower her weapon and holding out his hand once she’d set it on the ground. “No tricks, Agent Carter. The key, and you and your friends are free to go; it appears that at least one of them is in need of medical attention, so I’d be quick about it if I were you.” When Peggy’s eyes flicked over to where Michael was standing behind (Y/N), Attwell chuckled darkly and shook his head. “No, I don’t think dear old Michael’s going anywhere but by all means, Agent, go ahead and ask him if you don’t believe me.”

For the first time since they were ushered into the warehouse, Peggy looked directly at her older brother. Her hardened expression slipped and for the briefest of moments, (Y/N) recognized the vulnerable young woman she’d known all those years ago at Bletchley Park who mourned her beloved brother’s death. While her lower lip trembled, Peggy finally addressed Michael. “Not too long ago, I had a dream about you and you told me that you’d be right alongside me if you could. I didn’t believe it was possible, even when (Y/N) and Jack told me it was, but now we have a second chance at being a family again. Michael, you can finally come home.” She blinked away her tears and gave him the ghost of an encouraging smile. “Please, Michael, come home with me.”

(Y/N) could feel the pressure on her neck ease up but just as she was beginning to think that Peggy had succeeded in getting through to him, Michael coolly replied, “This is my family, Agent, the only family I have in this world.”

Peggy’s face crumpled as Attwell laughed in amusement. “I told you so! Now, the key for your friends.”

God, I hope that whatever Jack’s planning happens sooner rather than later, (Y/N) silently prayed, sucking in a breath while the younger woman approached Attwell. Once Peggy reached into her pocket and withdrew the familiar Arena Club pin, the man looked over at Dottie and gave her a nod; the spy slung the strap of her rifle over her shoulder and made her way over to one of the many wooden crates near them, kicking the lid off of it and lifting a small metal box out of the loose excelsior. The box looked innocent enough but as Dottie walked it over to Attwell, (Y/N)’s blood ran cold and she knew that the moment Peggy handed over that key, Leviathan would possess one of the world’s deadliest weapons and they’ll have lost.

“Get up, Chief Thompson,” Michael barked and while Jack got to his feet, (Y/N) was roughly pushed towards him. “And you, stand over there with him.”

(Y/N) did as he said, standing beside Jack and keeping her eyes on the scene unfolding before them as she murmured, “You okay?”

“Yeah, you?”

“Peachy-keen.” She watched Dottie hand the metal box over to Attwell, her anxiety steadily building within her while he examined the box’s intricate lock. “Are you going to fill me in on the plan or what?”

The corner of Jack’s mouth curled upwards and he quietly replied, “Patience is a virtue, Specs, just be ready for it.”

“Be ready for wha-?”

Just then as Peggy’s hand stretched out to give Attwell the Arena Club pin, the warehouse wall opposite them exploded. Rubble and splintered pieces of crates flew through the air but before (Y/N) could fully react, gunfire broke out all around them. Amidst the chaos, Jack latched onto (Y/N)’s hand and ran, yanking her behind the nearest tower of crates as bullets whizzed past their heads; both of them crouched on the ground and peeked around the wooden crates, and her eyes widened in amazement at what she saw. The explosion that had knocked down part of the warehouse wall hadn’t been an explosion at all but rather one of the Howlies’ trucks and as (Y/N) watched, Daniel and Henry used the truck’s doors as barriers while they exchanged fire with the Leviathan guards. Moments later, she spotted Peggy dart out from one of the aisles to join her boyfriend behind the open truck door.

“Wa-Hoo!”

Dugan’s deafening war cry from across the warehouse was punctuated by a fresh barrage of gunfire, and (Y/N) couldn’t help but revel at the familiarity of it all; her eyes were suddenly drawn to two men sprinting down the aisle towards her and Jack, and it took her a tense moment to recognize them through all the chaos.

“There you guys are!” Howard exclaimed before ducking down beside them, followed closely by an anxious-looking Edwin Jarvis. Reaching into the satchel that was slung over his shoulders, the inventor withdrew two handguns and offered the weapons to them. “You know, you two’ve got a real habit of gettin’ into trouble…”

Jack rolled his eyes in exasperation. “Says the man who was mind-controlled into almost gassing all of New York last year.” Springing up, he fired off several shots before ducking back down. “How’re we looking, Jarvis?”

“Well, Chief Sousa’s dramatic entrance provided enough of a distraction for Mr. Fieldman to escort Mr. Pinkerton and Mr. Sawyer out the front; their wounds aren’t life-threatening, but Mr. Fieldman promised he’d help treat them once they reach the clearing.” The butler set another satchel on the ground in front of them. “And we’ve brought more guns and ammunition, as per your request.”

“You know, Thompson, you said in your message that you needed a big diversion, but that whole entrance was my idea; I actually took it from one of my studio’s newest scripts, where a gangster steals-”

“Of course, Mr. Stark, your genius knows no bounds.” Edwin hurriedly interrupted the inventor’s rambling, glancing over at (Y/N) with his brow furrowed in worry. “And have you broken Mr. Carter out of his brainwashing? Where is he?”

Looking around the edge of the crate, (Y/N)’s heart dropped when noticed that several important people were missing from the gunfight. “Where the hell did they go, Jack?”

Jack craned his neck to see what she was looking at and swore loudly. “Shit, I-wait, they’re on the stairs!” By the time (Y/N) spotted them, Attwell, Dottie and Michael had reached the top of the stairs and had disappeared around the corner. “Jarvis, stay here with Stark and cover us, then go help the others.” Edwin nodded and her partner turned towards her, his blue eyes scanning her face for any signs of trepidation as he asked, “Are you ready, Specs?”

“As I’ll ever be,” (Y/N) pulled an extra ammunition magazine out of the satchel and tucked it into her pocket before giving Jack a determined nod. “Let’s finish this once and for all, Flyboy.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Compared to the chaotic warehouse they’d come from, the rest of the facility was eerily silent and it wasn’t at-all difficult to follow the footsteps of the fleeing trio through the deserted hallways.

“You know that this is probably a trap, right?”

“Naturally.”

“Good. Just wanted to make sure that we’re both on the same page.”

Before (Y/N) could get another word in, a figure she soon recognized as Dottie dropped down from above them and began attacking; the spy kicked the guns out of their hands, ramming her knee into (Y/N)’s stomach and knocking the wind out of her before spinning and using her leg to slam Jack into the wall beside them. (Y/N) took advantage of Dottie’s momentary distraction and aimed a side-kick at her thigh, but the spy merely turned her sharp fall into a somersault; she stood and threw a punch that (Y/N) was quick to duck, and then she grabbed the spy’s extended arm with the intent of wrenching it behind her back. Dottie predicted the move, yanking her arm free only to wrap her hand around her throat and roughly shove her back against the wall.

The back of (Y/N)’s head erupted into a sharp pain while Dottie flashed her a condescending smile. “I already told you, you’re too easy! It’s almost pathetic to see you try so hard to be as good as Peggy.”

“Don’t need to be as good as Peggy,” (Y/N) choked out as the fingers around her throat tightened. “Just…just good enough to keep you distracted.”

Dottie frowned in confusion and that’s when Jack slammed the butt of his gun against the back of her head. The spy tumbled to the ground in an unconscious heap and (Y/N) doubled over, her hands firmly clutching her knees as she coughed and gasped for air. “(Y/N), you okay?” She nodded and allowed Jack to take hold of her shoulders, his soothing encouragements helping her finally regain her breath; once he was sure that she was fine, her partner handed over her dropped gun and rested his hand against the small of her back to urge her forward. “C’mon, let’s go…”

They left the motionless spy behind and continued down the hallway, turning the corner and finding themselves at the entrance of a dimly-lit boiler room. Beside (Y/N), Jack shuddered and she recalled the story he’d told her of the mission he and Peggy had conducted to investigate one of Leviathan’s training facilities; she nudged him with her elbow and gave him a brief smile, wishing that she could offer him more comfort but not wanting to distract them both from their mission. Jack nodded as if to say he was fine, but his shoulders remained tense while he silently gestured for her to go left into the room while he went right.

(Y/N) crept behind the various boilers and pipes, careful not to slip on the slick ground as she did. If I end up surviving all this, I think I’m going to sleep for a week straight, she thought to herself, her heart rate steadily increasing with each step she took. While she edged herself around another heavy piece of industrial furnacing, she found herself trying to think of how to break Michael out of his mind-control long enough to save him; Jack insisted that cognitive re-calibration was the only way but after being present for Peggy and Michael’s reunion, she wondered if reminding him of his past or even recent actions would also do the trick. But a sharp skid noise right behind her made her forget her train of thought and turn, dodging the knife just in time.

“You really should’ve taken my offer, Agent (Y/L/N),” Attwell spat out, slashing at her with the knife again and forcing her to stumble back into the center aisle of the boiler room; the blade sliced against her forearm and she stifled her cry of pain, dropping her gun and leaping out of the way as he aimed for her again. “Soon, you and your foolish friends will be dead and Leviathan will have more power than you could possibly imagine!”

“Don’t you ever get tired of hearing your own damn voice?” (Y/N) retorted, her hand shooting out and twisting the red-colored knob beside them; a pipe next to Attwell spewed out pressurized steam and he let out a shriek of pain as the steam enveloped the right side of his face. Not wanting to stick around, she turned and sprinted further into the vast room, a part of her hoping that she’d bought herself enough time to save Michael. Skidding around a corner, she was immediately met with the sight of Jack and Michael engaged in a vicious fight on the floor; her partner was trying to wrestle something out of the other man’s closed fist, but he was so preoccupied with his task that he didn’t see Michael’s other hand brush the handle of a nearby gun. (Y/N) kicked the gun away from him, pinning his shoulder to the ground with her knee and spoke the first thing that came to mind. “Visions, light, cheered, night, dream!”

As she finished reciting the five words he’d used to encode his final message to Peggy, something shifted in Michael’s dark eyes and his clenched fist relaxed, allowing Jack to snatch the Arena Club pin from him. Before any of them could say or do anything more, a fiery ache erupted along her shoulder blade and she cried out in pain as she pitched forward. “(Y/N)!” Jack looped his arms underneath hers and dragged her over to half-lean against a pipe; her vision was partially clouded by the pain, but she could still make out the bloody knife he’d just pulled out of her upper back and tossed onto the ground beside them. “No, no, don’t look at that, just keep your eyes on me!” He pressed his trembling hand tight against the wound and when she nearly whimpered, he held the side of her face with the other and frantically nodded, his blue eyes steadily filling with panic that he struggled to control. “I-I know it hurts, baby, but I have to keep pressure on it; it’s not very deep, but I can’t have you fainting right now so keep your eyes on me, c’mon-”

“How touching,” Both of them looked up to see Attwell and Michael standing before them, the former with a self-satisfied smirk on his half-seared face and the latter staring stonily down at them. “Let’s make a new deal, Chief Thompson: Give me the key, and I won’t let Agent (Y/L/N) slowly bleed out on the floor of this boiler room.”

“Bastard.” Jack spat back, but his hand left (Y/N)’s face long enough to retrieve the Arena Club pin from his pocket and throw it into Attwell’s waiting hand. “You better start lookin’ over your shoulder now, Attwell, ‘cause I won’t rest until I kill you myself.”

Attwell shrugged and ran his fingers over the pin, twisting it sharply to convert it into a key. “Such fiery attitude in the face of doom was precisely why I was looking forward to killing you. But then I realized, forcing a man like you to live with your mistakes is a far worse punishment than death; and to make this victory sweeter, I plan on unlocking Zodiac in front of you both, so you can see just how spectacularly you failed yourselves, your agency and your country.” He turned to Michael with his brow raised in expectation. “Are you ready to make history, old chap?”

Michael nodded. “Of course…” He reached into his pocket and pulled out the metal box containing Zodiac; (Y/N) tried getting up, unwilling to sit back and let Leviathan win, but Jack’s strong arms held her in place against him. When she met his gaze, he gave her a barely-discernible head shake and with her jaw clenched tight, she watched Attwell push the key into the lock and turn it clockwise; the lid popped open and the man breathed a sigh of relief, reaching into the slightly-smoking box and holding an electric-blue colored vial with strange etchings carved into the glass.

“Beautiful, isn’t it? So much potential for war and destruction, and it fits within the palm of my hand.” Attwell looked up at Michael and continued, “My brother never appreciated such things, you know. He never truly appreciated you, either; once you were found out to be a deep-cover spy for the SOE, I saw an opportunity to mold you into the person you were always meant to be. Do you remember the first thing I told you after you came out of Hydra’s operating room?”

Michael’s hardened expression faltered, almost as if he was struggling to control his actions, and in an instant, he drew his gun and shot Attwell directly in the chest. There were tears in his eyes as he finally replied, “‘Michael, I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship.’”

The box and the vial slipped out of the dying man’s hands and as he began to sway dangerously on his feet, (Y/N) lunged forward and caught both in her hands before they could hit the ground. While Attwell’s lifeless body collapsed to the ground in a heap, she and Jack hurriedly placed the deadly Zodiac back into the box and slammed the lid closed; she let out a shaky breath, unable to grasp everything that had just happened. Michael dropped to his knees, tossing his gun to the side and rubbing his head with one hand; still mindful of her now-oozing wound, Jack held her a little closer as they both warily watched the unsteady man turn away from Attwell’s body to look at them. “I-It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Agent (Y/L/N). I’m Michael Carter, SOE.”

A smile slowly stretched across (Y/N)’s face and a sense of relief was beginning to wash over her as a familiar voice called throughout the boiler room. “(Y/N)? Jack?”

“We’re back here, (Y/N) needs some medical attention but we’re okay!” Jack called back, meeting (Y/N)’s gaze and flashing her a lopsided grin. “You’re gonna be fine, Specs, you hear me?” With a relieved chuckle, Jack leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her sweat-covered brow before resting his cheek on the top of her head. “We’re all gonna be fine.”

“Hey!” The first person who rounded the corner was Daniel, whose gun was already at the ready when he pointed it at Michael. “Hey, get the hell away from them!”

Jack held out a placating hand to the chief. “Easy, Danny Boy, he’s good right now; he’s the one who killed Attwell.”

Lowering his gun, Daniel limped over to where they sat against the pipe and knelt down as best he could to examine her knife wound. “Looks like the knife missed everything important, thank goodness. What the hell happened down here?”

Jack detailed everything they’d dealt with after hurrying out of the warehouse as their friends joined them; Edwin began treating her various wounds with Henry’s assistance, Howard carefully stowed the box containing Zodiac and its key into a satchel and Dugan worked on locating a weak point in the wall to blow a quick exit for them. There was a flurry of voices and activity surrounding (Y/N), but all her attention was on Peggy and Michael; they were talking to each other in low tones, Michael looking heartbreakingly unsure and Peggy trying her hardest not to cry, until they both surged forward and hugged one another. For the second time that day, (Y/N) was reminded of Freddie but while she watched the Carter siblings finally reunite, she didn’t feel sadness or envy, but rather pride. She was proud of herself, for having helped stop Leviathan’s plans and for having made-do on her promise to reunite her oldest and dearest friend with her beloved brother. If anyone deserves a second chance at happiness it’s those two, she thought to herself, taking a deep breath and resting her head against Jack’s strong shoulder.

They did it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: Only one more chapter left!! Like I said, idk how I feel about this chapter as a whole so I’m sorry if there’s mistakes/it’s bad, but next week’s is gonna be great! Thank you guys so much for reading! If you haven’t checked it out yet, I created a Spotify playlist for this series and it’s linked down below!

https://open.spotify.com/playlist/21pWY7OiMFj8LaYpxhtVtW

Chapter Twenty

“Specs and the Flyboy” Masterlist

Tagging: @nnon-it-up @fluffymadamina @remmyswritings @ourstarsailor @darkusangelus @josis-teacup @marvel-jackt-loki-buck @yeetyeetchickenmeat @sameoldbaby @theserenityspace @seeing-but-not-observing @supervoldejaygent @momc95 @brooke0297 @kinda-c0nfused @outoftheregular

#jack thompson x reader #agent carter #jack thompson #peggy carter #daniel sousa #howard stark #edwin jarvis #dum dum dugan #pinky pinkerton #happy sam sawyer #the howling commandos #michael carter #dottie underwood #marvel cinematic universe #strategic scientific reserve

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