#i feel like Andrew WOULD have a hard time breathing when extremely stressed out | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

remuslovebot · 3 years

Text

First Kiss

[Andrew Garfield Peter Parker x reader]

“Ugh! Why do you have to be so difficult!” You screamed at your math homework, practically throwing it across the room. You needed a break, so you decided sit on your balcony and get some fresh air.

You watched the city below you, your mind slowly calming down from the stress of your homework. You then saw a red and blue streak, swinging through the city. You smiled, recognizing the streak as Spider-Man. He had been around for almost a two years now. A while back he had disappeared, but he returned and continued to save the city.

Spider-Man had now disappeared into an alleyway and your gaze landed on the Empire State Building, it was beautiful and you loved living in New York.

Breaking you out of your day dreams, your phone started to ring from inside your bedroom, where your messy university homework laid. You went back inside and picked up your phone.

You smiled at the caller ID, “Hello Peter,” you said, running a hand through your hair and putting your right hand in the back pocket of your jeans.

“Hey, I’ll be over in a few minutes to study. I had to run a couple errands...” he trailed off, vaguely. You looked at your homework and then at yourself in the mirror, “Oh it’s fine, I was taking a break anyway,” you replied. He chucked, “Okay, see you in five,” he said, then hanging up.

You looked down at your phone, the picture of Peter you had taken in Central Park was your wallpaper. You blushed seeing his smiling face. Peter Parker was your best friend and your crush, but you know he didn’t feel the same way. Not only had he lost someone romantically close to him last year but you probably weren’t even his type.

In Peters eyes, you were exactly his type. He wanted to be more than just friends but he knew that some of his enemies knew who he really was, if they saw him getting close to someone he really cared about they could be a target. He didn’t want you to get hurt so he never asked you out or revealed his feelings. This was extremely hard for him to do, because you were so close, you always studied together.

Peter was mesmerized by you when you would study. The way you would chew on the top of your pen or pencil. The way you ran your hand through your hair when you were really concentrating. He loved everything about you and wanted so desperately to have you in his arms. But he needed to keep you safe, even if he knew you would never feel the same.

Peter had arrived just in time. You moved your homework to your kitchen table and made you and Peter each a glass of iced tea. Handing him the glass he mumbled a thank you. “So what question are you on?” Peter asked, looking next to you to see your paper. “Question five,” you huffed, the stress of the math problem coming back to you.

“Oh this is easy, you just have to find out how they got 243,” Peter explained. You looked at the problem again and it all became clear.

“Really, that’s it? Oh my god, you do, how the hell did I not see that before,” you laughed, taking your pencil and quickly solving the equation. Peter watched you as you worked out the problem, butterflies filled his stomach. You were absolutely adorable.

He giggled and you looked up, “What?” You asked, giggling yourself.

“Nothing,” Peter shrugged off.

You nudged him, “Oh come on, tell me,” you replied.

He shook his head, smiling, “I can’t, I want to but I can’t,” he admitted.

This made you more curious, “That doesn’t make any sense, Peter.” You said. “Just tell me,” you added.

“I think your laugh is adorable. I loved the way your eyes lit up when your figured out the solution to the problem. I think your the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen and-,” he said, but you cut him off with your lips.

It was impulsive, yes, but he said all of those beautiful words with those big puppy dog eyes. How could you not kiss him. You began to pull away but he pulled you closer to him, kissing you back. It was sweet but then became passionate, like what happened after the ‘ they lived happily ever after’ title card.

You both pulled away for air, your lips swollen from kissing your best friend. “I’m-um, I didn’t mean to-wow,” you stuttered.

Peter nervously rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah wow is um-right yeah,” he said, trying to focus on something else besides your lips.

You both instinctively leaned in again and another mini make out session began.

“This is probably not a good idea,” Peter whispered in between kisses.

“Why not?” You replied, confused.

“Well, we’re supposed to be studying,” he said, but really he didn’t want you to get hurt for being close to him.

“You helped me understand the problem. I’ll look at my notes again,” you shrugged, leaning into kiss him again.

Peter couldn’t take the guilt anymore and pulled away, “I can’t, I’m sorry,” he said, grabbing his jacket and leaving.

You watched him leave your apartment in shock , what the hell had just happened.

Four Days Later

After the kiss Peter ignored you. He wouldn’t answer any of your calls or texts. Finally you decided to just go over to his house. Knocking on the front door, Aunt May opened the door.

“Y/n, it’s wonderful to see you. Please come in,” she said sweetly. “Thank you. I’m here to see Peter. Is he here?” You asked.

Aunt May nodded, “Yes, I believe he’s in his room,” she replied. You said thank you again, then walking upstairs to Peter’s room.

It was closed so you knocked, “Peter, it’s Y/n. I need to talk to you,” you said.

No answer.

“Peter I want to apologize for any inconvenience I caused,” you added.

No answer.

You huffed under your breath, “Peter Parker, I’m sorry!” You yelled. You then noticed the door wasn’t fully closed and you lightly pushed it open, “Peter?” You asked. But no one was in the room.

The window was open, “Unbelievable,” you mumbled, upset.

As you turned to leave, a red and blue streak swung into the room. It was Spider-Man. He didn’t know you were there and he took off his backpack and then his mask. He turned around and you came face to face with your best friend.

“Oh my god,” you said in shock. Peter’s eyes went wide upon seeing you.

“Y/n? What are you doing here?” He asked.

“Your Spider-Man!!” You shrieked. He shushed you and fully closed his door. “Yeah,” he replied, still confused.

“Why are you here?” He asked. “I wanted to apologize for upsetting you after we kissed,” you admitted, a little embarrassed but still shocked that your best friend was Spider-Man.

“Y/n don’t be sorry. I liked kissing you, it was one of best kisses I’ve ever had. I just can’t be with you,” he said.

“Why? Because your Spider-Man,” you scoffed.

“Yeah,” he replied.

“That’s bullshit, Peter. We like each-other, why can’t we be together?” You asked.

“You could get put into danger because of me. You could get hurt,” he explained.

You huffed, waking closer to him, “I am not a damsel in distress,” you replied.

Peter walked closer to you, “I never said you were. I just don’t want anything bad to happen to you because of me,” he said, putting his hand on your cheek.

“Nothing will happen to me. I’m staying, as long as you want me. I’m yours,” you said, embracing his touch.

“I want you,” Peter whispered, leaning into kiss you.

#peter parker x reader #peter parker andrew garfield x reader #andrew garfield peter parker x reader #Andrew Garfield #the amazing spider man 2 #the amazing spider man #marvel #Spider-Man #spiderman x reader #spiderverse #peter parker #imagines #marvel imagine #peter parker imagine #spider man imagine

1K notes · View notes

plutodexay · 3 years

Text

Peter Parker imagine

This idea was all over the place word count wise and my brain was very weird when I wrote it but I think its adorable. Also I can’t think of a title for the life of me sorry

This can be read as any Peter parker you want but just know my mind was filled with Andrew Garfield the entire time

(1351)

It was late, the moon was rising as the streets were silent with the occasional passing car roaring by as if speed limits don’t apply past midnight. That was the standard for this time of night, I think. This was not my usual midnight routine, normally I would be in bed or on the phone, not walking, by myself, at midnight, to my boyfriends house.

Peter’s place was only a thirty minute walk from mine, and it was almost always him coming over to mine. But he wasn’t answering his phone for the past few hours without saying goodnight, and he always says goodnight. He’s the one who makes sure its said, and I don’t think there has been a day I’ve known him where he fell asleep before me, so all of this was leading me to freak out. More than likely he would freak out because of me walking over here alone, but at this point I didn’t care.

I was only a few minutes into my walk when I saw the lights flicker in a building on my path, quickly after that a slam was heard inside the place. Stupidly, I walked closer trying to see what was going on, before I made eye contact with someone inside the building. They just stared at me while crashes continued happening around them.

I felt stuck, my eyes were glued to theirs, my heart was racing so fast I thought it was going to burst out of my chest. Their head was turning left to right as the lights started flickering once again, and flashes of red and blue started appearing behind them. Arm raising they tried to hit whatever was flying around them, yet every movement only resulted in more flashing before eventually the flash of red knocked him over, shaking out of whatever trace I had been stuck in I started running, it took me a second to remember which way was Peters before I ran with everything I had in me. I heard a few more crashes before I ran into something blocking my way and falling down.

“Are you alright?” A panicked yet familiar voice rang out, looking up at them I noticed it was the flash of red I saw before. There were a few scrapes and cuts covering his body, in a panic I looked back towards the building only to see no movement inside and the lights had stopped flickering. Looking up at the face before me is when I saw the mask.

“You’re spiderman” My voice came out in a whispered tone, cracking towards the end. They held their hand out towards me, motioning me to grab it. Doing so the masked person pulled me up ever so carefully. I could feel their hand shaking under the fabric of the suit, their whole body read panicked and I swore I heard their breath stutter for a moment.

They gave me a slight nod before looking me all over, presumably checking for any signs of injuries similar to the ones they had.

“What are you doing out this late” Their voice came out in a hushed tone, hand still holding mine and shaking while looking me straight in the eyes, almost as if they were personally concerned.

“I was walking to my boyfriends, he wasn’t answering so I wanted to make sure he was okay” I rushed out, the adrenaline of the entire past few minutes catching up to me.

Sirens started sounding off past the building, slowly getting louder and louder the longer we stood there. It wasn’t until the lights of the cars started to flash near us that the stare down we were somehow doing ended.

“Well alright then” They coughed all while making their voice obviously deeper than it was. “Just get there safe” Continuing to try and push the fake voice on me, they nodded stiffly before walking past me. I followed their path for a moment until they headed down an alley and the lights got even brighter.

Once again I started running towards Peter’s as the sirens got quieter behind me. I kept running until I got to the outside of his apartment building. Rushing inside I pushed the elevator button practically non stop until the thing finally opened. I could still feel my heart racing while I tried to stand still in the elevator only to realize I had yet to press his floor button.

Pacing back and forth as the elevator traveled up all I could think about was hugging Peter, and explaining to him all the chaos that just happened. What had happened though, was it a bank robbery? Some angry bank employees? The mafia?

Thankfully the doors opened before my thought process could get even more insane, I stared at the open doors for a moment before rushing out of them as fast as I could. Nearly slamming my head on a wall as I turned the corner. Peter’s apartment was already unlocked as I opened the door with the knowledge of Aunt May not being home so I didn’t have to worry about waking her. Going up to Peter’s bedroom I knocked on the door as many times as I could before he opened the door, which was extremely quick, almost as if he had been standing right behind it.

Looking up at him I noticed how tired he looked, the bags under his eyes were much darker than they normally are with how little sleep he gets. There was no small blush on his cheeks but rather just pale skin, paler than his already extremely pale skin. He was wearing an old sweater that practically fell off of him that he only wore when he was stressed.

I felt all the adrenaline leave my body when I looked at him, normally he smiled whenever I pulled something similar to this but tonight was different. Hell, he looked like he’d just lived his worst nightmare.

“What’s wrong?” The moment I spoke Peter cracked, lunging towards me he wrapped his arms around my torso as tight as he possibly could before burying his head into the crook of my neck. His chest was quickly rising and falling against my own as he continued to try and hold me harder.

Getting over the initial shock of the hug, I shot my hands around him. One going around his back and the other reaching to run through his hair in a calming manor. My hand kept getting stuck in the mess which held more to how bad he felt, everything about him just seemed so panicked.

“Missed you” He mumbled into my neck after standing in silence for however long passed by, arms still impossibly tight around me.

“I missed you too” I wanted to bring up how he was the one who didn’t answer my calls but ultimately decided against it given his state, and that he was hugging me so hard it simply hurt to talk to much.

“Was scared you got hurt, heard sirens” He mumbled once again, but this time he brought his face out of my neck to look at me, his hand reaching up and gently cupping my face and his thumb moved back and forth over my cheekbone.

“I’m alright I promise” I smiled at him before leaning up to kiss him, our lips touching ever so softly before parting once again.

We stayed staring at each other for a few moments before he moved his hand from my cheek to grab my own hand. Quickly he started pulling me towards his bed before falling onto it. Letting go of my hand, he stretched his arms out waiting for me to climb in between them. Laughing, I laid down in his arms and he wrapped the around me once again, kissing the top of my head whispering different affections over and over until soft snores started to leave his mouth.

It didn’t even come to mind to ask how he knew I was near the bank, or heard the sirens when they were nowhere near his place

Tag list: @venxaax @somber-starlight-wasteland

259 notes · View notes

disgruntledspacedad · 3 years

Note

HEADCANONS!!! So a past bad relationship of Ears has been referenced. I'm sure it will play into your story at some point so no spoilers requested! BUT - how does that experience manifest in how Ears interacts with Javi? Is she reminded of that relationship by things Javi does (or - most importantly - doesn't) do? How does Javi help her cope (if he does at all given Ears is proud and likely not to admit to much at first!)? xoxox

Actually, I had not planned to explore this in depth at all, because it’s potentially triggery and because Ears is deeply ashamed of allowing herself to get into such a situation to begin with. It’s one of those secrets that she’ll take to the grave, if she has anything to say about it.

But that’s a crying shame, because Ears’ past abuse is integral to how I perceive her. Strap in, folks. We’re about to take a deep dive into the darker history behind our favorite chaotic sunshine child. Trigger warning for discussions of nonconsensual sex, controlling behavior, and general shittiness below:

Andrew Lewis was Ears’ army recruiter. Ears first met him when she was seventeen. Andrew was 28. He was tall and blond and pretty, with bright green eyes and a smooth as silk personality.

They got on like a house on fire. Andrew complimented her intelligence and work ethic, and Ears, who had very little positive male attention in her life, fell for this tactic pretty hard. It’s not long before they are “dating.” Andrew feeds her all the lines - that she’s special, that he’s never met anybody like her, that he can’t wait to spend his life with her, that bullshit. He buys her all kinds of little gifts and takes her out of town for dinner. Ears eats it all up.

But he’s careful to remind her that the relationship has to stay secret. Fraternization is a word that he throws around a lot. Once Ears realizes what that means, it scares the living shit out of her, but by now, she’s so deeply invested in this relationship that she’s too afraid to do anything about it.

Once Ears starts questioning things, Andrew’s demeanor shifts. There are no more dates, no more compliments. Ears needs to keep quiet or else. Andrew never hits her - he’s smart enough not to leave marks - but Ears is afraid of him anyway. She’s forced to do a lot of sexual favors that she has no interest in, and Andrew is mean as a snake if she doesn’t perform exactly the way he likes. The entire thing is incredibly stressful and demeaning, and it’s not long before Ears resents Andrew, and herself.

Desperate, she goes to her brother Danny (also a military guy) for advice. Danny laughs in her face, tells her she got what she deserves for fucking an officer, tells her good luck reporting. “Better keep your head down and do as your told, Shrimp. You’re just his little whore, and he knows it.”

Ears takes a big risk when she’s twenty years old and transfers from her community college to a state university four hours away. At this point, Andrew was already losing interest and openly fucking other women, but Ears is still terrified that Andrew will trash her career. For the next two years, Ears is at his beck and call on long weekends and during school breaks. She longs to tell him to stick it where the sun don’t shine, but Andrew could easily ruin her and receive nothing but a slap on the wrist, and the idea of disappointing Jack and proving Danny right is intolerable.

So Ears obeys. Sometimes it’s weeks, or even months, between encounters, but still, Ears is never really free of Andrew.

By the time she’s deployed to Kuwait, it’s been over a year since she’s seen him. It doesn’t matter. Ears is constantly looking over her shoulder, terrified that her past choices are going to bite her in the ass. Fear and shame define the first decade of her adult life.

Quitting the Army is one of the most liberating choices she’s ever made.

Ears’ history impacts her relationship with Javi deeply. Really, you can argue that all of Rules of Engagement is just Ears battling her demons. When we first meet her in Rules, Ears is wary and very guarded, almost on a hair trigger. Several times Javi is being genuinely nice to her, or giving her pretty obvious signals, and Ears still looks at him like he’ll bite. She’s terrified of somebody finding out about their relationship, even though they don’t work for the same organization. Her feelings make her feel vulnerable and exposed, she doesn’t want to accept help or money, doesn’t want to give up control of her life. This defensiveness lasts even into Aftershocks, where she’s very quick to snap at Javi, “don’t tell me how to feel.”

Regarding bedroom stuff, Ears isn’t big on being pinned or cuffed. She’s let Javi restrain her with one of his ties before, but that was Javi. She trusts him, and besides, he asked her nicely first.

When Ears offers to let Javi fuck her face in Yours, that’s a very big thing. I think I say something along the lines of, “you’ve never offered this to a man in your life...” She swore up and down that she’d never have that experience again, but Ears ends up breaking lots of her rules for Javier Peña.

Breath play is completely out of the question.

Ears is super sensitive to power dynamics, and her relationship with Andrew is partially to blame. She’s used to subtly navigating so that she’s got the upper hand in a conversation, and she’s constantly evaluating and reevaluating what she should say next, how to leave herself an out. Years of having her career held over her head by an abusive asshole have made her almost paranoid, but it’s a trait that serves her well in Colombia.

This is why Bill Stechner’s swerve in The White Room rankles so bad. One again, Ears has found herself on a ball and chain, and once again, she perceives it as entirely her fault.

She will never, ever admit this to Javier Peña. Ears is fiercely independent, and her deepest fear is for anybody not to perceive her that way. She sees her past as a weakness, and she’ll die before she lets Javi in on it.

Javi might pick up on certain little quirks here or there. He knows Ears well enough to see when she’s uncomfortable, and he adjusts his behavior accordingly. There are moments when Javi might have darker suspicions, but he doesn’t dwell on them. Ears is so unlike any woman that Javi’s ever been with that it’s almost impossible to gauge her behavior as normal or abnormal. Besides, the idea of anybody hurting Hannah Aarons is painful in the extreme, and Javi doesn’t want his mind to go there.

Ears would tell him if it were something like that, surely.

That’s not to say that Javier Peña doesn’t help Ears cope with her trauma. Of course he does. He’s just not aware that he’s doing it.

Every time he looks at her like he really sees her.

Every time he considers her opinion.

Every time he asks her if it’s okay to try something new.

Every time he tells her she’s beautiful and means it.

Every time he drops those soft little kisses to her forehead, cheeks, and nose. The ones that aren’t sexually gratifying at all, the ones that are just barely brushes of his lips because he just can’t restrain himself from touching her intimately.

Every time he asks for for a story.

Every day that she wakes up cradled in his arms.

Every day that he’s patient with her abruptness, or kind when she hesitates, or understanding when she’s wary.

Every time he respects her “no.”

Every time he goes out of his way to pick her up from work so she doesn’t have to walk.

Every time he works his ass off to bring her to completion.

Every time he stares at her with that awestruck, stunned, love-dumb expression.

Every time he waits up for her on the sofa.

Every time he subtly shows her off to the Search Bloc boys.

Every time he tells her he’s proud of her.

Every time he tells her she’s amazing.

Every time he whispers Spanish into her hair.

Every time Javier Peña shows her what it is like to be truly, deeply loved, Hannah Aarons heals a little more.

#Javier Peña #Javier Peña x reader #Javier Peña x ofc #narcos #narcos netflix #better love #Hannah Aarons #javiears #Javi x ears #tw: noncon #tw: abusive relationship

57 notes · View notes

palmett-hoes · 4 years

Text

so this is another autistic andrew post, about a more specific type of Autistic Experience: Sensory Processing Disorder or SPD, where the brain has difficulty figuring out information coming from the senses and then may make the feelings much stronger or much weaker. it's a condition very very strongly associated with ASD, and pretty much all autistic people have sensory processing issues to some extent (though autistic people are not the only ones who can have SPD).

spd reactions are typically classified as either hypersensitive or hyposensitive, or, over-responsive or under-responsive

i think that andrew has SPD with primarily hyposensitive tactile issues, meaning he has difficulty getting "input from the skin receptors about touch, pressure, temperature, pain, and movement of the hairs on the skin"

these are all taken from the tactile hyposensitive symptoms list:

__ may crave touch, needs to touch everything and everyone one weird thing that andrew is ALWAYS doing is touching people. he's always grabbing people's (especially neil's) faces, but also their arms, shoulders, etc. he manhandles a lot. pretty much, if you're one of his people, he's putting his hands on you constantly. he seems to get a lot of comfort from this too, showing an adamant need to TOUCH after stressful events (aaron after dr**e, neil after baltimore). obviously, this desire for touch doesn't come back around, as andrew doesn't like to BE touched, only to touch. it's really tragic that andrew has so much trauma related to touch, actually, because otherwise it's very easy to imagine him being a cuddly, tactile person who does enjoy being touched

__ is not aware of being touched/bumped unless done with extreme force or intensity now you can definitely argue a hypersensitivity here, but i think that a trauma response and an spd response are slightly different. we cannot ever forget that andrew is a deeply deeply traumatized person and that absolutely affects the way he reacts to things. so what i think is that andrew has worked very very hard to learn body awareness. over time, he can tell when he is touched, but he still can't necessarily tell much about how. so he overcompensates. he can't tell if someone is touching him to hurt or not, he can't even feel the difference, so he's just learned to stop ANY touch. at all.

__ is not bothered by injuries, like cuts and bruises, and shows no distress with shots (may even say they love getting shots!) on multiple occasions andrew shows an extremely pain tolerance as well as a total lack of response to pain. this also seems to be one of the reasons that people find him especially unnerving. in tkm, he threatens kevin that he will break his own hand to get off the court and then punches a wall hard enough to bleed. that should be a LOT of pain to inflict on ONESELF, and he doesn't even seem to notice. similarly, in tfc he punches through a window and cuts his hand very badly, and does not even seem aware of the injury. admittedly, both of these happen when he's on medication, but the medication is described as forcing him to feel MORE, not less. it then shouldn't have a muting affect on his pain tolerance, so I think that he just naturally has a low response to pain. also, in baltimore, when neil notes the injury to andrew's face that was apparently very bad, andrew shows no sign that he actually feels it

__ may not be aware that hands or face are dirty or feel his/her nose running there's not much for this, but when andrew punches the window in tfc and his hand is bleeding, he gets the blood all over and does not appear to notice. additionally, he gets into a shower fully clothed. i undertand his need to be covered but that still doesn't sound.. comfortable to me.

__ may be self-abusive; pinching, biting, or banging his own head andrew has a history of self-harm, to the point of what seems like EXTENSIVE cutting. plus, just in general, is totally self-destructive and willing to injure himself, from getting himself in a car crash to putting himself in the middle of fights to putting his fist through walls and windows when stressed.

__ mouths objects excessively he's a smoker, which can imply some level of oral fixation, and smoking is on the symptom list for adult SPD. also, not to be crude (nsfw text), but he seems to really enjoy sucking dick

__ frequently hurts other children or pets while playing + __ thoroughly enjoys and seeks out messy play (combined two) while we never really see andrew "playing" with anyone, this isn't hard to imagine. it lines up very easily with what we know of his childhood, that he was considered a violent kid. if he had trouble with sensory input he easily could have hurt other kids accidentally, somewhat leading to this reputation, which would have just spiraled out of control once he began hurting others to defend himself. additionally, pretty much the only activity we know he engages in purely for "fun" is sparring with renee, which is apparently vicious and leads to serious bruises and even injuries. also, he's an exy player, which even as a goalie is a gross, sweaty sport

__ repeatedly touches surfaces or objects that are soothing (i.e., blanket) neil. armbands. driving car.

__ has a preference and craving for excessively spicy, sweet, sour, or salty foods what foods do we know andrew likes? ice cream, candy, jalapenos (extra content) hot chocolate, coffee, whiskey. basically any food or drink he actively seeks out is a sensory extreme; sweet, spicy, hot, whatever the fuck sensation alcohol is (burning?) etc. additionally, he's a smoker, which is kinda like breathing fire

not on the list but additional extreme sensory situations that andrew seems to enjoy/seek out consistently:

sound: the times it's mentioned that andrew plays music in the car it's both music that is very loud on its own and he turns it up to an ear-splitting volume

eden's: he likes hanging out in a night club, which can be a sensory nightmare even for neurotypical people. LOUD music, BRIGHT lights. it's like,, the height of sensory overload and it's where andrew goes EVERY chance he gets just to hang out. he goes back even when he isn't drinking much or hooking up with people anymore. he just likes being in a super flashy, super loud environment

anyway i have so many feelings about autistic andrew with this kind of spd it literally makes me so sad

#txt #long post #autistic andrew minyard #andrew minyard #my posts

474 notes · View notes

ponkho · 3 years

Text

Dimitry Darrleeyia

The cold, serious and cryptid magician whos past is in flames

Introduction

Full name: Dimitry Keahi Darrleeyia

Meaning: Dimitry means "Earth-lover" and "Devoted/Dedicated to demeter" (greek mythology goddess of corn and harvest). Keahi is a boy's name of Hawaiian origin meaning "flames" . Darrleeyia does not have any meaning, it is there for backstory purposes.

Source 1 source 2

Pronunciation: Dimitry (Dim-mi-tri) Keahi (ke-ah-hí) Darrleeyia (Darr-lee-ih-ah)

Gender: Male, He-Him

Birthday: 15/9

Age: 28

Orientation: Pansexual

Magic: fire, Earth (rocks creation and manipulation)

Occupation: Magician, shop-keeper, fortune teller,

Familiar: Maxwell, the red panda. Cute boy, horrible personality

Love interest: Asra

Shippable? Yes! Absolutely!!

Theme song: Phoenix - Fall out Boy

playlist :)

Zodiac Sign: Virgo

MBTI: ISTJ

Major Arcana: The Moon

Upright: Unconscious, illusions intuition

Reversed: confusion, fear, misinterpretation

Minor Arcana: Ace of Swords

Upright: breakthrough, clarity, sharp mind

Reversed: confusion, brutality, chaos

— Magic —

Fire–- his habilities in general is around fire magic, such as creating a flame from thin air to creating massive explosions. If you manage to enrage him enough his hair will turn into flames and he will breath a black hot smoke.

Earth–- this magic is more on the rock solid part. He's not very good with nature and earth magic (since he tends to burn things down thanks to his fire magic) but he is actually pretty good at rock manipulation. He can creates hard rocks from the ground and create precious rocks even, his most precious rock he can create is diamonds, but for that he needs to have passed through a hard time of stress, sadness or any overwhelming bad feeling, and as a result, two horns made of diamonds will grow to defend himself and look threatening. (He feels embarrassed after, he thinks he was weak enough to let those feelings overwhelm him)

Others habilities: he can speak with animals, cooks amazingly good and he's good at only three weapons: daggers, katanas and Lances.

— Personality and Preferences —

Personality: he's cold, cryptid and too honest. He doesn't give a single shit about how you feel, most of the time, i mean. He is hard to befriend, and always is looking for some hidden lie under any word that comes out of your mouth, but once you get his trust he will still be very cold but he will start showing how he feels. Like, giving gifts, making things. Giving without wanting back.

He has a great talent of getting through lies, so if you really want to deceive him, you gotta be smarter than him. People tend to stay away from his path everywhere he goes, not because bad reputation, but for respect, he can look as calm and cool as he wants but he can and will put you to your place if needed. Dimitry, whenever he wants to impress, he'll act, doesn't know how to talk about feelings or anything, so if he know about something you really want or like he'll get it for you, but will never want to take credits for it, instead he will use the famous "I just happened to be there".

Finally when he really likes someone, his behavior changes totally towards this person. He's calm, loving, sweet, measure his words with care to not hurt, loyal and becomes a little bit protective. He will smile more and if you're lucky, you can even get some chuckles out of his mouth, he'll even create jewels for you, "oh you like knives? Here's a diamond dagger I made."

Never talks about his markings. Unless you have a amazing relationship with him, but even so, he will only give hints and never the whole truth.

Likes: Cooking, talking with Max(well), reading, drawing, playing harp,(He plays it at his bedroom on the palace) silence.

Dislikes: loud people, disrespect, lies.

Fears: losing Max, cages and betrayal

Quirks: he can run extremely fast and thanks to his tail, he can make swift turns without losing much speed. His markings burn when he is enraged, and sometimes they will burn his own clothes.

Favorite food: Gingerbread

Favorite Drink: Hot chocolate

Favorite flower: Gardenia

Favorite color: Mahogany

Most likely to: burn a city down because they messed with one of his friends

★— Appearance — ★

Height: 197 cm

Eyes: Burning orange transitioning to yellow

Hair: long Mahogany colored hair, two long bangs on the front, hair tied up on a bun.

Other: his hair is not originally mahogany, his hair color is the same as the tuff of fur on his tail, wich is, blonde.

Color theme: Mahogany, red, yellows and beige.

Family & Background

Family:

His current adoptive mother is a queen, or as they say, a Leader, wich would make him the next in line

Bianca Wood - biological mother - deceased // Relationship: none

Darek Wood - biological father - alive? // Relationship: Bad

Meghan Rook - adoptive mother - deceased // Relationship: bad

Andrew Rook - adoptive father - deceased // Relationship: horrible

Lys Rook - adoptive sister - deceased // Relationship: he was kind of her slave

???? Darrleeyia - Adoptive mother - alive // Relationship: motherly, friend, family

History

Sit down because it's going to be a long talk

He was born on a very poor little village and his parents never actually wanted kids, it's one more mouth to feed and they almost didn't have food for themselves, he was raised to work hard, he helped on home already at a age when he knew already what was happening around him. His mother never gave him a motherly love and his dad just talked to him to offend or to order him around, not that he cared about it, he thought it was how parents worked. One day his mother fell ill and died, at that age Dimitry was 6, he knew she wasn't coming back and his dad started to put the blame on him for her death, as if he could do anything. One day things got out of hand and his dad became alcoholic, then he started to owe money for people, and he couldn't pay it. So one day, when the opportunity came and he saw that Dimitry could use magic, he sold Dimitry to a couple that needed someone to cook, clean and entertain the guests of their bar on another village. They payed a good price and even more because of the magic Dimitry knew.

When he arrived he felt betrayed, left by his own father. So he thought "Well, he was an ass anyways. I'm sure I'll be better here" unfortunately, it was not what happened. They had already pointed out that they needed someone to cook and clean the bar, wich he already knew and was fine with it but then they started to abuse their power over him. His sister made him clean her bedroom, she would cut his hair just for "fun" and blame him for anything she had done, and of course her parents believed her and only her. He got spanked a lot of times and then he just decided he would never smile or talk again, because every word that comes out of his mouth turns against him, at this time he was 8.

One day a customer, different from all the others came directly at him. It was a woman, taller than everyone in that room, she used a hood and she had an air of superiority. She asked him why he was sad and why did he work so hard, he didn't answer, but she insisted on talking to him, she even invited him to sit on a table to talk with her but he refused since he was working. Then, she told him she had a way of saving him from that place, he was just like her, but because of always restraining his emotions and desires, he didn't look different from all the rest. She would come at night again to have one last talk and it was his choice if he wanted to go or not.

When the woman came back at night, she was without her hood and when she walked in, all the bar fell silent. He finally knew who that woman was. She was the woman from the tales, the legends, she was Darrleeyia, a goddess. She brings warmth, prosperity and happiness whenever she goes, and she was just there, on that miserable bar, just to ask him if he wanted to come home. After she made the question all the eyes fell on Dimitry, he felt anxious for the first time, but he knew she wouldn't be worse than what already was happening to him there, so he accepted her offer. She gave him her hand and they walked out of the bar without interruptions. What about the bar, you say? She burnt it down and she did not hide her satisfaction of it.

Together, they went got on a ship and she took Dimitry where he now can call home.

Five Facts:

Dimitry is allergic to shrimp. He discovered that when the Leader of the seas of the homeland gave him a shrimp as a treat for helping her out. The Leader got in trouble with Darrleeyia later on.

He is ambidextrous

He can purr, but it's rare. Extremely rare that only two people saw him do that. His mother and Maxwell

His body runs at a higher temperature than normal humans.

His diamond horns cannot be broken by anyone other than himself. If someone wants to take it out they'll have to crack Dimitry's skull.

Art References:

I got 99% inspired by @juliandev0rak's Cadmus bio soooo

#HE'S HERE DARLINGGG WHOOOOO #BOY #THIS TOOK LONGER THAN I EXPECTED #WHEW #BUT HERE IT ISS #there are more markings under the clothes #but eh #have fun!#apprentice dimitry #art #my art #the arcana #the arcana game #the arcana oc #oc bio

27 notes · View notes

fallingin-like · 5 years

Text

november 20

back to the start by @fuzzballsheltiepants [requested by @nikothespoonklepto]

see which other fics i’m reviewing this month! / my review request post!

containing an injured!andrew who loses all of his recent memories, this fic is has heartbreak and healing. this fic has great pacing and flow, you don’t even notice that you’ve read 30k words until you’re done.

this is an absolutely amazing fic. you did such a great job writing the characters in a way that was in depth and stays really true to them. it was funny, serious, angsty, and fluffy in a way that tied everything together and made it really easy to read. i loved having the opportunity to see andrew fall in love with neil again and see neil really fight to protect andrew.

parts that i especially liked:

”andrew and neil had watched kevin’s interview the night before on exy night in america from andrew’s apartment. neil had spent the ten minutes grinning at kevin’s well-practiced persona while andrew drily commented what they both knew kevin was really thinking” this is so cute! there’s really nothing that brings people together more than making fun of kevin

EXCUSE ME HOW DARE YOU INJURE ANDREW IN THAT WAY

andrew waking up so disoriented and confused and afraid is so heartbreaking. to be brought back to that terrible night, surrounded by strangers, in so much pain. i really cannot handle it, he’s already suffered so much in his life ;-;

ohmygoodness andrew sort of recognizing kevin? is this based on andrew having seen kevin before the club incident or because he’s actually recognizing kevin?

”’did they kill him?’ he asked dully.” ahhh i can feel andrew closing himself off, resigning himself for bad news

”he didn’t know why he was talking, he was revealing too much, he needed to stop but not as much as he needed to know” i hate seeing andrew so distressed, to the point where he can’t contain himself

”he almost laughed, it was such a ridiculous idea that andrew’s perfect memory could be compromised, but dr. kupra’s face was serious.” oh no, what a terrible and ironic injury, for andrew to lose the memories that he likely actually wanted to keep

what in the world kevin, why would you not call nicky to get him to talk to andrew??

”that voice… it tickled something in his chest” AHH even without his memories, something within andrew recognizes neil, so soft

”and you need to understand that you can’t just start touching him when he’s asleep” it’s so comforting to know that neil is around to protect andrew while he is extremely vulnerable.

it’s really not surprising that andrew has a panic attack, to learn that you’ve lost seven years of your life? i can’t even imagine how upsetting and scary it would be

ah yes, of course neil forgets to charge his phone

”like i’m worth something, like i matter” oh no i totally forgot that since andrew is back to his 17 year old self it means his mental health is probably a lot worse. oh my goodness 17 is so young!

”it’s amazing how many words they can say to avoid telling you they don’t know” oh my goodness neil

ANDREW REMEMBERS SOME THINGS, I HAVE HOPE. and it seems like now neil does too!

to hear that they’ve had conversations with andrew that he can’t remember, that they’ve explained the situation to him multiple times already, it sounds hard for anyone, but andrew who is used to his eidetic memory? oof

”this felt more like he had read it in a book, like if he turned the page he would already know what was on the next one, but he couldn’t manage to turn the page. and the next page was important, of that he was sure” wow this description is so so good.

OH NO ANDREW THINKING NEIL AND KEVIN ARE TOGETHER and then “it didn’t seem such an unreasonable question to andrew… the alternative didn’t make sense. the alternative was impossible” ahhh this is so painful, at least neil is not around to hear this.

”that didn’t really surprise neil; he had suspected that andrew had been interested in kevin at some point” ooo i like this

neil talking to andrew’s coach oh my goodness he really can’t help himself. but also it’s his way of caring too, protecting andrew from everyone

ahh i love andrew falling for neil again. “aggression of an eight-pound terrier” THIS IS SO TRUE. picking fights, but too small to actually fight them

”neil was reading on his phone and andrew watched him through his lashes until he couldn’t keep his eyes open anymore” this is so so sweet, i love being able to see things from andrew’s perspective, he hides so much from the outside that i am always interested in what he’s thinking

”he wouldn’t be the first who thought andrew could be ‘healed,’ whatever that meant.” the thing i like about their relationship is that i think that neil doesn’t think andrew ‘could be healed’. i think neil thinks that andrew doesn’t need healing. that bad things happened to andrew and yes, these things changed him, they shaped him to be the person he is now, but they don’t mean he is broken. uhh i don’t know how to say the words i am thinking. BASICALLY, NEIL DOESN’T THINK ANDREW NEEDS TO CHANGE. HE LIKES (LOVES) HIM AS HE IS

”... but he could still taste his old grief and guilt and fury” ANDREW FEELING GUILT SO MUCH GROWTH

”nicky had been there; he could call nicky, and find out what - who - had broken neil so badly” ahhhhhh i love this!!!

ohmygoodness, all the things that neil is remembering. i love it so much

ugh i want neil to go off on all the people trying to pin down andrew, but at the same time, i guess they had a somewhat reasonable reason for doing what did. BUT STILL THEY SHOULD HAVE KNOWN BETTER. andrew has been through so much!!!!

i love these moments of andrew finding out what happened to neil. we get to see his genuine reactions, even what he’s feeling, not just what he’s emoting (which i’m sure is not much). it’s a little different, because although he still feels this emotional connection to neil, he doesn’t understand why, but his reactions are so pure and unfiltered. i love it

”it’s who i am, it’s not something i can forget” I LOVE THIS LINE and i love love love nicky’s reaction.

ugh, neil fighting to protect andrew is just *clenches fist* so good

okay i love neil, but woah. when he thinks of how lucky he is to have andrew and the first thing that comes up is andREW BREAKING RIKO’S ARM. LOL what a legend

ohmygoodness i forgot that neil is still in school. i really cannot believe that he is able to balance everything, like it’s just so wild to me.

i’m so glad that neil has matt. he has andrew yes, but matt is just a good friend, something that neil has never really had. someone that is openly affectionate and talkative enough to balance neil’s anti-social personality. someone he can go through during these tough times when andrew is not around

NEIL JOSTEN CERTIFIED HOTTIE HAHAH

oh, hearing andrew’s perspective of millport is so good, so interesting

ANDREW ASKING WHICH SCARS ARE FROM HIM ACTUALLY BREAKS MY HEART. nonononono

NEIL ROASTING THE REPORTER IS WHAT I LIVE FOR. but also i’m pretty mad that this guy was able to get into the hospital and approach neil like this. people are so rude and have no sense of privacy somethings UGH

”neil was a trouble magnet. andrew didn’t remember too many specifics, but he knew it with a bone deep certainty” hah

oh, the way that you wrote andrew regaining his memories about riko and drake and maybe easthaven. it’s so impactful seeing it from neil’s perspective. “he watched as that bomb hit, the slow motion ripple effect it had as memories resurface and deductions were made.” your descriptions are so good

the contrast between the texts from the foxes and neil trying to deal with andrew remembering is amazing

it’s so interesting to me the way that the sense of distance between neil and andrew are for different reasons. neil is being so careful not to cross andrew’s boundaries because he doesn’t know what andrew’s okay with, etc. and andrew is still learning about the relationship that he previously shared with neil and doesn’t know where they were at with that, doesn’t know what past him did

oo i love twinyard moments, the bonding. “i didn’t forget you” AHHH i like that they’re so civil now, aaron is probably less stressed (now that he’s not trying to balance school, exy, and the MAFIA) and has matured, he doesn’t repress as much of his emotions maybe. he cares about andrew and both lets himself care about him and allows himself to show it, even if it’s in small ways

so much growth/development to see that neil turns to betsy and actually calls her!! she knows so much about their history, i’d be interested in what kind of relationship neil had with her after their first year

”didn’t know how to tell him that he remembered other things - remembered bits and pieces of meals and drives and games and shared cigarettes on the roof, the weight of neil’s mouth on his own and the feel of his skin, the sound of his hitches of breath. because none of that felt real” THIS IS SO GOOD BUT ALSO HURTS. NEIL IS A PIPE DREAM BUT ANDREW DOESN’T KNOW THAT HE’S ALSO A REALITY TOO

”then neil came out of the bathroom and andrew decided maybe he didn’t hate the girlfriend after all. not if she’d picked out those clothes.” ohmygoodness andrew

”four years. four years since andrew had been nearly torn apart by terror. four years since he had felt that anguished need that seemed so fresh in his memory. and yet neil was still here” THIS IS SO GOOD AHHH

EXCUSE ME HOW DARE YOU BREAK MY HEART LIKE THAT BY SAYING NEIL CAN’T HELP DECIDE WHAT HAPPENS TO NEIL ALSO “everyone but andrew, whose glam intensified” WHAT DOES THIS MEAN AND THEN NEIL SAYING “do you think if andrew cared he wouldn’t let them kick me out in the first place?” AHHHH

oh okay you have redeemed yourself by having aaron and andrew BOTH agree with neil. “look, i might have head trauma but i’m not an idiot” LOL

”andrew wasn’t sure why his stomach clenched, why his fingers dug into the blanket” HHHH HURTS

AARON YELLING WRONG MINYARD YES

oh! so cute to have bonding between andrew, neil, katelyn, and aaron!!

oHH no i forgot that people might hold andrew’s sexuality against him and that makes me so mad

”aaron said mildly ‘out of all the men in this world, why did you have to end up with one who’s too stupid to feed himself?’” LOL

”it would only be a week tomorrow, but it felt like he had always been here, that the rest of his life had been something he’d seen in a movie or read in a book. like this was the only part that was real” oh oh oh. this is so sad, but also it makes so much sense. “it was always like that, though” OH. this, and the rest of the paragraph is so interesting. i love the way that you explain it. and the end of this chapter is so good. it really sets us up for the last chapter and leaves me aching for resolution. for andrew to realise he can and does have this. that it’s real and won’t be taken away from him

i’m a little bit confused about the whole discussion about sexuality and mental illness. why did katelyn misunderstand and what was she thinking? i think i’m just missing something here LOL

”the way andrew hesitated before he nodded meant no, but neil wasn’t going to push him” ugh it’s so good to know that neil can read andrew so well, can tell what he’s not saying, but knows when to push and when to back off.

NO SELF-CONSCIOUS NEIL IS SO SAD

”aaron refusing to sign anything, turning it all over to andrew and neil” aaron is such a complicated character, we don’t get to see him fully explored in the books and i love the way that you used this fic as an opportunity to do so. he cares, but in his own way. even though they have disagreements, at the end of the day, he wants what is best for andrew and i really liked how you portrayed him and throughout this fic.

WHY IS ANDREW SINGING WITHOUT KNOWING

ANDREW KISSING NEIL AND THEN GIVING THE PAPARAZZI THE MIDDLE FINGER IS THE BEST THING

i love that you have parts of this fic from andrew’s perspective. it’s so so interesting to see his honest reactions to memories and people and to experience his introspection. and it’s not super obvious, but i love that with perspective shifts, we also see your writing style adjust to reflect that. you handled this whole fic so well, there was a great balance between humour, softness, and angst that made me really enjoy reading this.

you did such a good job with the characterization, it was so wonderful seeing andrew rebuild his relationships and fall for neil again, the interactions between everyone (including your OCs). i appreciate that, although andrew and neil have kind of re-established their relationship (they both know that they like each other and are comfortable with each other), there’s still some sort of distance. things are still a little bit off and they still have work to do to continue to learn each other. it keeps things realistic and, for some reason, brings me closure. this is such a significant event for both of them and things are different because of that and i’m glad you didn’t ignore that aspect of it. this was just such a wonderful fic, thank you so much for writing it!!

#back to the start #aftg fic review #raelle writes

60 notes · View notes

bobasheebaby · 5 years

Text

In My Veins- Be Careful What You Wish For chapter 3

Pairing: Drake x MC; (past) Liam x MC

Written for @badthingshappenbingo

Fandom: Choices (The Royal Heir Book)

Square filled: food/drink tampering

Word count: 2,100

Warnings: deceit, manipulation, threats, evil Liam

Summary: Stress is felt.

A/N: A huge thank you to @sirbeepsalot for all of her help and advice and being an ever patient sounding board. (MoE thanks DoE as well.) In My Veins by Andrew Allen is the song inspiration.

Series warnings: Evil Liam, dark!fic, deceit, manipulation, dub con, possible NSFW content, possible character death. This is taking the Liam from TRH to the extreme, he is not the Liam we know and love. By clicking read more you acknowledge you are at least 18 years of age.

Let me know if you want to be added or removed from the taglist.

Disclaimer: I don’t own any of the characters, I’m simply borrowing from PB for a bit.

“Allen, Rebecca, I wish you’d listen to me.” God I could use a drink. Why did I suggest I not drink in solidarity before we got pregnant. Drake ran a hand through his hair in frustration.

Rebecca’s sapphire eyes flashed with anger. “Listen to you? Like I listened to you when you said we had to name our child Liam’s heir because we owed him? Haven’t you given up enough for him? Done enough for him? Will I or our child be first in your eyes? Or will you always put him first out of some twisted sense of duty?”

“That’s not fair, you and our child will always come first!”

Liam stopped in the doorway. They are fighting already, perfect. Soon she’ll be coming to me for support.

“Really? Were you thinking about us when you agreed without talking to me?”

“We’ve been over this Allen! I’m sorry I didn’t discuss it with you first, I should have.”

“What if he says the baby has to grow up at the palace? Would you just blindly agree?”

“Liam would never ask that. But of course I would say no!”

“Okay.” Rebecca sighed. “You need to stop feeling guilty. You didn’t steal me from him.”

“I know I’m sorry.”

She shook her head. “I’m just so frustrated.” She blinked back tears. “I know it takes time, but I don’t understand why it’s not happening.”

Drake took her hands. “It will happen. And when it does you will be an excellent mother.”

“I just wish it would happen already,”

Liam cleared his throat from the doorway, announcing his presence.

Drake and Rebecca turned in surprise. “Hey Li, we weren’t expecting to see you today.” Drake awkwardly greeted Liam with a forced smile as he joined him and Rebecca in the solarium. How much did he hear?

“I was passing by on my way home from business in the neighboring duchy and thought I’d see my favorite couple and see how you are doing.” He looks well, doesn't seem to have lost any weight, no hair loss, maybe I’m not using enough… “I brought you another bottle of your new favorite.” He held up the bottle of whiskey.

“Oh.” Drake swallowed. Crap all his gifts. “I haven’t been drinking.” He grabbed Rebecca’s hand over the table. “In solidarity, since she can’t drink just Incase.”

“As I told you Drake, I don’t care if you have a drink or too.”

Well that explains it. “Well since your wife doesn’t seem to mind, perhaps you can join me in a nightcap? One drink a night never hurt you.” I’ll just have to up the dose.

“He’d love to.” Rebecca vacated her seat, leaning down and pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Night. I love you.” She headed towards the door. “Goodnight Liam, try to convince him to loosen up.”

Liam forced a smile as he felt a tinge in his heart. “I’ll see what I can do. Goodnight Rebecca.” My love, queen of my heart and soon my rightful queen. “So should I pour us one?”

Drake hesitated, watching his wife’s retreating form. I really need one tonight. “You know what, you’re right, what harm will one drink do?”

“Excellent.” Yes drink, be merry, leave me your grieving wife to consol. “So how have you two been doing?” He asked setting down Drake’s whiskey, sitting across from him.

Drake arched his brow. “Since when do you drink scotch neat?”

Liam smiled as he brought the glass to his lips. “I don’t mind it now and then.” And I needed to be able to tell the drinks apart. Wouldn’t want to get the wrong one.

Drake nodded as he sipped his whiskey, relishing in the smooth burn in his throat. “It’s been okay, I just worry the stress is getting to her. She’s so tired and irritable, but every month the test is negative.” He shook his head. “I just feel like we’re letting you down.”

Liam sat his glass on the table. “You’re doing no such thing. Sometimes these things take time. Is the doctor worried?”

“No, not yet. She said the same thing as you.” He nervously ran a hand through his chestnut locks. “I just thought it’d happen by now.”

“It will happen Drake, when it’s meant to.” And it’ll be my rightful heir when it does.

“You’re right Li, thanks. Now enough of the baby stuff.”

Liam grinned to himself as he navigated the corridors to his royal chambers. One drink turned into more than half the bottle, for Drake. They don’t suspect a thing. Soon she will know she chose the wrong man. He felt his mind wander, taking him back to the day he first felt his heart crack, when he first realized he would do anything to regain her heart.

“Marry me.” Liam’s words hung heavy in the air, his smile wide with hope and joy.

Rebecca looked down at Liam, blue eyes shining with unshed tears. Liam smiled up at her, moved by her emotions. “I—I think I love someone else.”

Liam’s jaw dropped, his heart sinking to the pit of his stomach. But what about? The ring slipped from his grasp, falling into the grass. Where did we go wrong? “Who?” His voice cracking as his kingly demeanor slipped.

Rebecca shook her head, her golden blonde hair shimmering like gold in the moonlight, any other time it would feel like a beautiful sign, a good omen. Today it felt like it was a cruel joke played on him by the gods. “It doesn’t matter.”

Liam carefully stood from the grass, his mother’s ring momentarily forgotten. Last time we were here she was talking about love at first sight and soulmates. All that mattered in that moment was what he lost and if there was anything he could do to prevent it. “It must be recent if I’m just hearing about it now.” His voice took on a biting edge. “I just want to know what happened since Paris when we placed our lock on the bridge. Since Shanghai when we went to the pond. I need to know what I did wrong to lose you now when we can finally be together.”

“Liam please. Don’t do this.” Her voice cracked, tears streaming down her porcelain cheeks.

His mind raced. He needed to know who took her away from him. Who has she been close with? “Maxwell?”

“Liam.” She pleaded.

She’s been close with Hana since the start… “Hana?”

“Liam, please stop.” She sobbed.

Only one name left. Please not him. Anyone but the man I’ve always considered a brother. “Drake?” Her head dropped forward, he felt his heart shatter in his chest. His jaw tensed and his hand curled into a fist. “Does he feel the same?” If he doesn’t we may still have a chance.

“Yes.” Her voice but a whisper, nearly lost in the wind.

Liam nodded, trying to pull himself back together. How could he do this to me? This night was supposed to be one full of joy and somehow it turned to one full of turmoil worse than the night he’d had to choose Madeline. “Did you ever mean it?”

She looked up, tearfilled sapphire blue locking on heartbroken chestnut brown. “Mean what?”

“What you said, that you loved me.” Why can’t I just drop it? Because I need to know. Was she simply playing me for a fool or did she mean it when she said we were fated?

“Of course.” She took a breath. “Maybe part of me still does, but you didn’t choose me when it mattered most.”

Liam looked down, trying to bury his anger and sadness, pulling back on his kingly facade. “Okay.” He nodded. “I would still like to name you Duchess.” Drake doesn’t want this life, he’ll back off. And this way you will see who you’re better suited for. If I keep you close I can regain your love, and once again possess your heart. “I know you would do so much good for the duchy I chose for you.” He paused. Act supportive. “Both you and Drake would both do so much good for them. I would hate for them to lose out simply because you fell out of love with me.”

“Liam...” She sighed shaking her hair, the glittering gold strands flying in the breeze. “I didn’t, you just didn’t fight hard enough for me.”

“Liam.” Her sharp voice cracked through the halls like a whip, breaking him from his thoughts, sending him spiraling back to the present.

“Olivia.” He turned giving her a tired smile. “I didn’t realize you were returning from Lythikos, I haven’t seen you in awhile.”

Olivia laughed. “Yes well, we need to talk and you’ve been ignoring my messages so I thought I’d come and see you in person.” Her tone tinged with agitation.

��Can it wait until morning?”

“It could, however you’ve worn down my patience.”

Liam sighed, eyes quickly darting in the direction of his royal chambers. “Let’s head to my study.” There’s only one woman I want to invite back there.

Olivia rolled her emerald eyes. “Fine.” Her heels clicked loudly on the polished marble floors, the sharp and shrill sound echoing through the halls of the silent palace.

Liam unlocked the door pushing it open. “After you.”

Olivia entered, crossing the room, taking a seat on the couch. “We need to talk.”

“So you said. What is this about Liv?”

“Sit.” Her tone strong and commanding.

Liam arched his brow, grabbing one of the chairs at his desk flipping it around. He sat with his hands folded in his lap.

“You need an heir.”

Liam chuckled. Where is she going with this? “I already have one, or will soon.” As soon as Rebecca sees she chose the weaker man. “I named Drake and Rebecca’s child, remember?”

“I remember.” She drummed her perfectly manicured French tips on her thigh. “I don’t understand why you put so much pressure on them when you had other options.”

“What options? I’m a single king without any prospects for a queen.” I would have a queen if Drake hadn’t stolen her from me!

Olivia’s features clouded briefly. “Me.” She straightened her back. “I could give you an heir by blood. You know I’d never say no to you.”

“Liv, I appreciate the offer but I won’t have a political marriage.” I didn’t expect you to want one after what your parents did.

“I said give you an heir, not marry me Liam. I’m being pragmatic about it. I know you don’t love me, and I can’t marry until I figure out how to get out of that damn agreement; but you need an heir and I’m willing to help.” She smiled. “Think about it, a child of Rhys and Nevrakis blood, no one would dare cross them.”

Liam fought to keep his kingly stoicism in place as the anger heated in his veins. There is only one woman I want to sire my heir. “You seem to be forgetting about one thing.”

“What’s that?”

“Legitimacy. A child of my blood would have to be proved legitimate. Since you can’t marry and I have no intentions of a political marriage, any child we would have would be unable to ascend the throne.”

“That’s bullshit and you know it!” Her voice hardened as anger consumed her. “You know that’s an old rule that never gets enforced any longer just like your bullshit ‘I’m allowed to appoint a newborn of noble lineage’ excuse. You and I both know that rule hasn’t been used in over a hundred years and that you could appoint anyone of any age.” She stood up abruptly, in that moment she reminded him of a raging fire ready to engulf anything in its wake. “I don’t know why you insist on following that archaic law, or why you need to have her child as your heir. You are making it impossible to happen, they are under too much pressure and stress. It’s been months.” Any kindness on her face was gone, anger and hate taking its place. “I was simply making a suggestion to make it easier, give you a backup plan as you would.” She stormed to the door, wrenching the door open, the flurry of red silk only reminding him more of flames. “If you didn’t want Nevrakis blood on the throne, there were kinder ways to say it.” The slamming of the door vibrated around the room.

Olivia, please don’t become a problem, I would hate for you to become collateral damage.

Feedback fuels me, please like, comment reblog or send an ask. Feel free to scream, I promise I can take it.

Masterlist can be found in my bio.

Taglist will be reblogged.

265 notes · View notes

shes-soparticular · 5 years

Text

Slow Burn (Part VI)

(Part I) (Part II) (Part III) (Part IV) (Part V) (Masterlist)

A/N: In every Slow Burn, there’s a payoff at some point...

Words: 4497

Warnings: I wouldn’t call it smut by any regard, but there may be a teensy amount of PG-13 action, so be warned. Full NC-17 will be coming sooner than later, for those that are wondering.

Put your hands on my body just like you think you know me Want your heart beating on me, don't leave me hot and lonely I don't usually give in to peer pressure But I'll give in to yours

The pounding in her head wakes Alex well before the alarm she’d set, the strange combination of mint and whiskey still burning on her tongue. The sun has begun to rise outside, the rays still soft yet bright enough to trigger a wince as her hangover makes itself known. Stretching out her arms and legs as she waits for her eyes to adjust, she’s not sure whether she’s disappointed or relieved that her fingers and toes aren’t meeting warm skin. The blurred memories of the prior night start coming back to her, eliciting another wince for an entirely different reason. Ethan. Shawn. Jack Daniels. Alex can recall starting the evening with an argument that bled into her ordering a double whiskey on the rocks, her stomach empty because Ethan’s friends insisted on a bar that didn’t serve food. She’d ended up on the fringes of the group, nursing one whiskey after another to simply get through listening as they reminisced about their frat boy antics. Things fade to black for awhile between her third drink and her coming too, sobbing on the bathroom floor of Shawn’s hotel room, his shirt soaking up her tears. With that memory replaying in her mind, she’s not surprised when her eyes fall upon Shawn’s sleeping form on the couch across the room, his body far too long to be sleeping comfortably. Remarkably, her desire to spare him any further misery on her behalf outweighs the strength of her hangover, and she rises to her feet to pad across the carpet. Stopping once her knees touch the fabric of the sofa, she softly runs her palm over this back, rubbing gentle circles to coax him awake. “Hey, you should get in bed, you barely fit on this thing.” Shawn whines in protest at first, and then in satisfaction when her fingers sweep through the dark curls at the nape of his neck. “Come on, you should get a couple of decent hours of sleep before the flight. I don’t need any dirty looks from Cez and Andrew when your back ends up killing you.” His eyes remain shut, but he reaches out to pull her closer by the legs.

“And how would they know it was your fault?” He rasps, the morning scratch still thick in his voice. He’s right, they wouldn’t know for certain what had happened behind closed doors. Even if they did, they’d probably suspect something far more lewd than her simply spread out alone in his bed, drunk off her ass. She’s not naïve, she knows the rumors they’ve inspired. The way they’ve been attached at the hip in nearly every mutually spare moment, the little touches, the lingering looks, the whispered inside jokes and private observations kept between the two of them. It’d be crazy for everyone to think they weren’t fucking. Honestly? Now, with his hot breath on her thigh and her fingers tangling in his dark curls, it’s a wonder that they aren’t. A demonstration of extreme self-control that she isn’t straddling him that very second and allowing her body to act out every impulse she’d had over the past few weeks. Considering she wants to remain an arguably decent person, she can’t just mount Shawn while the boyfriend she has yet to break up with is somewhere down the hall. Toxic baggage aside, she’s still not prepared to throw her morals to the wind just to get laid. Even if she’s willing to bet it’ll be the best sex of her life. Even if she knows it’d be about so much more than just sex.

“Will you just get into bed?” She wiggles out of his grasp but catches one of his hands in hers, giving his arm a gentle tug. “I’m not leaving until you do.” Her voice somehow manages to be simultaneously stern and soft, that stubborn attitude of hers edging into her voice despite the tiny smile on her lips.

“Oh and that’s supposed to persuade me? Because in that case, I’m never getting in that bed.” His statement is followed with a quiet chuckle, but the weight of his words hang in the air. That he’s asking her to stay. To not walk out his door and down the hallway into Ethan’s waiting arms. Even in the dark, she can make out his brown eyes gazing up at her, hopeful. Pleading. It’s enough to melt her then and there, to crawl back into that bed with him and refuse to ever leave again. It takes her several minutes to form a response, to force the courage to say what she’s supposed to say rather than what she wants to say.

“No, the whole point is that you need to get some quality sleep. If I stay, we’ll end up talking about nonsense and then arguing about nonsense and then laughing about nonsense.” Finally, she pulls his arm with enough force to get him to stand up and shuffle back over to the bed, not satisfied until he’s taken over the warm space she left behind. “Plus, I have to pack before the flight to Glasgow. Getting wasted and sleeping here wasn’t a part of my plan.”

“Yeah? What happened last night, anyways?” Shawn settles into the pillows, pulling her hand to at least sit beside him for the time being. He knows full well they won’t have a chance to be alone together until well into the evening, if then. “I mean, before I got to you.”

“Not much…by the time I finished working, he was already out with his friends. And, as you know, I self-medicated big time to survive the evening.” Alex rubs at her face with the back of her hand, momentarily pressing it against her forehead as if the pressure will sooth the pounding in her head. The more she thinks back to the night before, the worse the throbbing seems to get.

“Are you sure you don’t want to lay back down? It’s not like it’ll take you that long to pack…” Yes, the question is asked out of concern but his selfish intentions aren’t far behind. If he had it his way, Ethan would have seen his last glimpse of Alex from the hallway outside of Shawn’s door.

“Don’t worry about me, you’ve already done more than enough.” There’s still a hint of a smile on her face, but he can’t help but notice there’s a sadness to it. It’s a needed reminder that this isn’t easy for her, that she’s struggling too. Maybe more than he is. “I truly appreciate you taking care of me, by the way. Especially on your last night of this part of the leg, I feel terrible that you had to deal with me like that. I owe you.” To be honest, Alex isn’t used to feeling like a damsel in distress. It’s not a position she ever puts herself in, and beyond that, it’s not in her personality to reach that point of vulnerability with someone else. She isn’t the girl that needs saving. She’s the woman that saves herself. But with Shawn? There’s this security she never knew she needed. It isn’t about being rescued; it’s about being supported. It’s not even the grand gesture of carrying her home from a bar, it’s all of the little moments that usually go unnoticed. The way he truly listens and gives her center stage when she speaks, the way he concerns himself with her everyday thoughts and feelings, however mundane. That’s the partnership she never realized she was missing with Ethan because she’d been so adamant not to need him. The notion of needing someone, relying on someone, it was terrifying enough. But looking to Shawn for that support, even though he was so willing to give it, scared her even more. In her mind, it was better to never have something so sweet than to get a taste and then live with the risk of losing it.

“You don’t owe me a thing, you know that.” He needs to make that clear, especially with the stress he sees evident in her motions. “I know you’d have done the same thing for me, maybe not carrying me with those spaghetti arms of yours, but at least making sure my drunk ass got home.” This earned a laugh from her, as was his goal, and lightened the mood if just for a minute.

“You know, I’d love to see you asleep in one of my shirts for a change,” The sparkle returns to her eyes for the first time in the past twenty-four hours as she rubs the material of the shirt she’s wearing, another one of his, between her thumb and forefinger. “I have a Spice Girls one I think you’d look especially hot in.”

There’s still one question topic playing on his mind, one he doesn’t necessarily want to bring up but can’t afford not to. “You didn’t break up with him…” It’s more of a statement than a question, something he obviously gleaned from the fact that Alex and Ethan were even in the same bar at the end of the night.

“No…” Her voice is barely above a whisper. He’s almost taken aback by how one small word can sound so apologetic. “We barely had any time alone together last night.” Alex’s eyes flicker to her feet, taking a step back from him, guilt rising in her stomach for both of the men she currently has waiting on her. “And it doesn’t feel right to handle it like this, hungover, maybe even still a little drunk, before catching another plane.” She’s chewing her lip so hard it’s a wonder she’s not drawing blood. “It’s something that I need to do when I’m back in Chicago.” It’s going to be a little over two weeks before she’s back home, an eternity when it comes to tour life. They’ll have traveled through six more cities by then. Considering how intensely their feelings for one another have grown over the past six cities, the thought of waiting that much longer feels impossible. Even if two weeks is a completely trivial passage of time, it’s crushing when it’s preventing two people from letting themselves fall in love fully. Without needing to put that into words, they both feel it in that moment, and neither one of them knows how to deal with the pain of anticipation. For Alex, it’s the pressure of having to end a seven-year relationship, of having to unpack that history and say goodbye to an entire era of her life. It’s trading something comfortable albeit unsatisfying for a totally unknown outcome – the likelihood of her heart being completely obliterated by trying to date a famous musician is far higher than the two of them living together happily ever after. She knows that. But that doesn’t mean she’s not going to take the chance. She’s already spent years in a safety net with someone who didn’t have the power to hurt her, and even the possibility of gut-wrenching pain makes her feel more alive than she’s ever felt. For Shawn, it’s fear that they’ll never get the chance. That she’ll go home and realize it’s all too risky, that she’s better off in the life she’d already built for herself.

“Okay.” There’s so much he wants to say, so many things he wants to ask her. But it doesn’t feel like his place. Ultimately, this is all up to her. It’s her relationship, not his. No matter how deeply he already feels for her, they’ve only known one another for a few months. They’re still getting to know one another, honestly, and he can’t just stand up and demand that she break up with her boyfriend on his terms. Regardless, it doesn’t mean he can’t be disappointed. And right now? The uneasiness is eating him alive. All he can do is remind himself that it all boils down to patience. If he can be patient, if he can get through those two measly weeks, there might just be the love of his life waiting on the other side.

Reaching out to give his curls one last ruffle, she scoots herself off the bed and back on to her feet. “Now seriously, get some sleep. Or you’ll have to answer to these spaghetti arms.” He watches her long enough to see her roll her eyes over her shoulder at him as she collects her things and the room key off of the desk by the door. She’s certainly correct about one thing, it’s going to be a hell of a day and the rest of the team will likely scrutinize why he’s so dead tired. But the exhaustion and ache creeping up his spine pale in comparison to the way he feels about the fact that Alex is still very much attached. Not just to anyone, to a guy that didn’t deserve her and evidently didn’t care to. It was frustrating at best, heartbreaking at worst.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Between Glasgow and Leeds, she spends nearly every night in his bed. The couple of nights she doesn’t? It’s because he’s fallen asleep in hers. Usually to old episodes of Game of Thrones, almost always with her fingers in his hair. Somehow, they keep it together. They manage to flirt with the line without totally crossing it, always backing off before their lips get too close. Changing the subject anytime it involves the future. Laughing it off anytime someone makes a joke or an innuendo about the two of them. Never letting anyone notice that on any given night one of their beds remains empty. Except the fact that it doesn’t go as unnoticed as they think it does. It’s the last night before they leave for Dublin when Brian finally breaks his silence over the top of a post-show New Castle.

“So, uh, I ran into Alex pretty early this morning. A little weird because she said she was heading to the ice machine at six am…with no ice bucket…” Brian pauses for dramatic effect to take a swig from his beer. “In one of your hoodies. And you know, I don’t even think the hotel has an ice machine to begin with. Something a travel manager might be aware of.”

“I think the question is what were you doing creeping around that early?” Shawn knows he won’t get away with changing the subject that easily, not with the smirk refusing to leave Brian’s face. This isn’t something he’s going to let go. Not this time.

“Hey, I’m not asking for the dirty details. I’m just trying to figure out what it is you guys are doing.” He’s quick to elaborate, realizing the way his statement sounded. “Not literally, figuratively.”

Quite honestly, Shawn doesn’t have the answer to that. A fact he has a feeling his best friend is already aware of. “Man, if I knew, I’d tell you.” He tries to shrug it off, reaching for the nearest guitar to calm his nervous energy. Except that’s his tell and Brian knows it.

“Look, I just want to be real with you for a second. Alex is a great girl, don’t get me wrong…” The “but” that’s coming is the last thing Shawn wants to hear. Especially as his eyes settle on the back of Alex’s head from across the room, her arms and hands flailing in their animated fashion as she tells Alessia and Olivia a story. “But the last thing I want is to see you get played. I mean. She’s still with that guy, right? How hard is it to breakup with someone?” Shawn’s first instinct is to come to her defense, to give the same explanation he’s been repeating to himself every morning when he wants to kiss the back of her neck. Hearing that question from Brian, though? Not only a third party, but a third party that knows him better than anyone. Someone who wouldn’t be saying this if they weren’t truly concerned. “Be careful, that’s all I’m saying.”

All he can do is nod in return and absent mindedly strum a melody on his guitar. The same one that’s been stuck in his head since Vienna. As the night drags on, that tune isn’t the only thing stuck in his head. Brian’s warning resonates with him, drawing out questions he’d been burying deep. Those words turn over in his mind as his hands arrange Alex’s fingers on the neck of his guitar, his best attempt to teach her how to play Free Fallin’. They don’t leave his mind once she gives up and demands he just play the song for her, her soft and light (and just a little off key) voice mixing with his whenever he forgets the right lyric. He can’t even manage to forget that conversation when she’s dancing in front of him, one hand in her hair, completely unashamed by her dorky moves. By the time they all make it back to the hotel and they’re the last two left in the elevator, riding up every single floor because Connor thought it’d be funny to push every single button, he finally hits his breaking point. She’s mumbling the words to Outta My Head between yawns when her hand slips into his with a squeeze. Almost inadvertent, as if by reflex and without any intent.

They’re both caught off guard when he pulls his hand away, backing to the other side of the elevator while letting out a long sigh. He wants to swallow the words that are on the tip of his tongue, but before he can, they’re spilling out all at once. “I don’t want to do this, I don’t want to give you an ultimatum. But you have to make a decision. Either we’re just friends or we cut the bullshit and actually talk about us. You can’t keep leading me on. You can’t keep sleeping in my bed and holding my hand and looking at me the way that I look at you. Not if you don’t mean it, not if you don’t want more.” The elevator continues its ascent, still stopping at each floor. He counts two as she stares back at him, eyes wide and lips parted. Clearly unsure of what to say, the words not appearing as easily for her as his outburst had for him. He needs her to say something, anything, but as the silence persists, he can’t help but fill it again. “I need you in my life and if it’s just as a friend, I’ll find a way to be satisfied with that. But I can’t be in this limbo with you anymore. Not when all I want to do is kiss you.”

Those final words have barely left his mouth when she cuts him off, eyes still locked on his. “Then kiss me.” Maybe it’s the bewilderment, maybe it’s all of the built-up tension and yearning, but she means those words with every last piece of her. She knows she owes him a longer reply, something concrete, something for him to hold on to. But right now? The physical connection and painful lack thereof is all she can concentrate on.

“What?” He knows he has to have heard her wrong. There’s no way after all this time, after that outpouring, that those are the first and only words she’d have in response.

“Kiss me, Shawn. Please. Just kiss me.” She already sounds breathless, and by the time she steps forward to close the gap between them, his hands are already on her hips pushing her gently backward against the wall of the elevator. Their lips brush softly, tentatively at first, the hallmarks of a first kiss. But the fact that they’ve both been waiting for this for far longer than what’s bearable for two impatient people means the kiss deepens quickly. Her tongue slips into his mouth first and it’s enough to make him moan against her lips, the taste of her far better than the fantasy he’d built up in his spare time. There’s a mutual hunger for one another, so much so that they nearly miss their floor when the elevator finally reaches its destination. He’s able to catch the door at the last possible second and usher her out, his tattooed hand never leaving her hip and his lips barely breaking from hers. There should be a voice in the back of at least one of their heads that anyone could happen upon them making out, hard, in the hotel hallway, but they’re far to consumed for any rational thought to arise. Her door comes first and somehow, they manage to stumble through without losing much contact. It’s her hands that make it under his shirt first, her fingers as hot to the touch as the skin at her hips he’s been digging into. As their bodies find a pathway towards her bed, she’s pulling him as much as he’s pushing her, both of their chests heaving before they’ve even gotten rid of an article of clothing. That doesn’t last long though, as her hands become as eager as her tongue, pushing the hem of his t-shirt up until he gets the hint to take it off. His inner Leo can’t help but grin into her lips when he notices her breath hitch at the feeling of his abs under her fingers, her nails raking upwards and continuing across his ribs and to his back to pull him down to the bed with her. For a moment, it almost feels surreal considering the number of times he’s pictured this. Alex splayed beneath him, settling between her thighs with his lips on hers. To actually be here now, feeling her, tasting her, and knowing she wants it as badly as he does? It’s almost too much to believe. And maybe he shouldn’t have let himself get caught up in that thought because just as he’s halfway finished peeling her top off, she stops just as quickly as they’d started.

“Wait. I can’t. We can’t. Fuck, I’m so sorry.” She’s panting, her hand on his chest as she moves to sit up. Without hesitation, he immediately backs away from her so only their foreheads are touching. He’d have backed off completely, but her hand remains at the back of his neck, keeping him close enough that he can still feel her breath on his lips.

“That’s okay, it’s okay.” His breath is as ragged as hers, his body trying to catch up with the turn of events.

“It’s not because I don’t want to, Jesus Christ do I want to.” She finally pulls away far enough so that she can look him in the eyes, still wild with lust but now mixed with remorse. “It’s because I don’t want it to happen this way, not while things are still…unresolved for me at home.” She doesn’t want to say Ethan’s name, not in that moment, not when she can still taste Shawn on her tongue. Not while she wants to taste more of him.

“What if I said it didn’t bother me?” Of course he wants to be a gentleman, the guy who wouldn’t dare let a girl cheat regardless of her intentions to break things off. But right now, in reality? His chivalry isn’t quite as strong as his need to touch her.

“I’m sure it doesn’t.” She giggles lightly, face still dangerously close to his. The smile on her face fades quickly though, her thumb still brushing across the back of his neck. “But maybe someday it will.” She knows she’s already pushed the envelope with how intimate she’s allowed things to get between the two of them, long before their lips had met. Ending up underneath him, hips pushing into his with the deepest need she’d ever felt? That was far past being okay. While she has to consider Ethan and the fact that no matter how much of a jerk he can be, he doesn’t deserve this, no one does – she also has to consider Shawn and any possible future they could have together. The last thing she wants is for their relationship to start this way – as part of an indiscretion. Maybe it doesn’t bother him now, but in the midst of some heated argument down the road, it’ll come up again. He’ll remember that she was willing and able to cheat and it won’t be something he’d ever forget. So no matter how badly she wants to throw caution to the wind and give into not only her body but her heart too, she can’t. Not like this. “You have no idea how bad I want to rip your clothes off right now, I promise. But you know I can’t.”

The thing is, he does understand. In fact, he admires her for it. As much as he’d love to be stubborn and self-serving and seduce her into cheating on her boyfriend and breaking up with him over a long-distance phone call, those aren’t actions either of them are capable of. Not purposefully. He knows neither of them ever intended to feel this way, to fall so quickly, to end up this deep. Rolling away from her until his back hit the mattress, he tries to manifest any thought that can possibly stop his blood from rushing south. “Okay, okay, stop telling me how bad you want it because it’s actually making this so much worse.” He chuckles, reaching over to at least pull her top back into place so he doesn’t have to stare at the bra he was so close to ridding her of. Catching a glimpse of her face, he recognizes the look instantly. The face Alex makes when the wheels are turning in her head, when she’s devising a plan.

“Next month, when you have that long weekend off?” There’s a hint of anxiety in her voice, her teeth chewing the corner of her lip the way she always does when she’s feeling vulnerable. “What if you came to Chicago?”

They’ve been doing their best not to talk much about what they’re going to do during the break. Unsurprisingly, he’s loaded up his schedule what with the plans to release his new single and all of the promotion that will come with it. Which, at present, he’s thankful for if it means the time between legs will pass quicker. But no matter how much he fills his schedule, he knows being away from Alex for longer than twelve hours since the first time they met is going to be a brand new hell. “Yeah?”

The smile that lights up her face only makes him want to kiss her worse than he had with her back against the elevator wall. “Please?”

How could he possibly deny her request? Honestly, invitation or not, there was no way he’d manage those eight weeks without her. Needless to say, he can’t help but return her smile. “Okay, I’ll come to Chicago.”

#shawn mendes #shawn mendes fic #shawn mendes imagine #shawn peter raul mendes #slow burn fic #smfsource

97 notes · View notes

writeuntilyourhandshurt · 4 years

Text

Thanks, Sis!

"Aqua Regina…"

"Aqua Fortuna."

"Fortuna…"

Spells spilled from Andrew's lips. Memories flying through his mind as his hands worked cleverly over the wool. He was knitting. Something quite lame for a magician. You'd think he would spend his time practicing spells, learning powerful magic and growing with his art. And he did do that. But...Christmas was rolling around. Not everyone celebrated it. And not everyone wanted presents. But he couldn't help himself. He loved his new family, and missed the "stress" of having to make a seemingly endless amount of presents for so many members. It was...comforting, to say the least. Nostalgic. It would make him feel. It would make him know that he has a place to belong and people to care for.

Leya purred heavily in his lap, struggling to eat the threat he was working with, occasionally grooming the unfinished sweater and kneading it. Andrew never minded it. It made his work difficult, yes, but that's what cats are like.

"Andrea?" She looked up at him, the name ringing nostalgia in his ears, two pairs of piercing blue eyes staring at each other.

"Yes?" He stopped in his tracks, the name she used startling him ever so slightly.

"Levi??" She asked, kneading his thigh.

The boy smiled fondly, looking at the sweater he was knitting.

"Yes." He said again."Levi."

The cat flopped down between his legs, satisfied, looking almost smug as she closed her eyes and started purring again.

Andrew smiled, getting back to his work. One hour passed. Two hours passed. It was rather time consuming. But he moved quickly, quicker than most. A normal person would finish a sweater in about a week. He? It took him a day. Of course, magic was involved. But anything his magic touches becomes extremely comforting. It's as if he was putting what he craved most into his work. Comfort. Family.

…

Family…

He shook his head. 'No. I am not thinking about them. Not now.'

…

But it was too hard. Images from the last Christmas he spent with his real family flashed in front of his open eyes.

"Andrea! Come here! Your cousins have already opened their presents!" His mother said. "Coming!" He replied. The house smelled of spices, every nook and cranny was decorated and festive, legends flowing freely between the youngest of the family. And there were always new members. Always a new soul to bless the house. People from all over the world would bless their house as well. The family adopted everyone that married one of their own, making the newer generations incredibly diverse. An abundance of cultures and traditions all mixing together. They celebrated each and every holiday they needed to, regardless if they knew of it before or not. They believed that every opportunity to celebrate was a good one, and every opportunity to be good and be happy was a blessing.

And it was the same for his new family. Members from all over the world, from all sorts of different classes. A prince, a lawyer, an entertainer, a former member of a tribe, a librarian, and a free spirit. They all huddled together in their house, all enjoying each other's company. But there was one thing nobody would say out loud. That Levi was the heart of the family. That she was the one that brought everyone together and kept them going without even knowing it. Without even breaking a sweat.

Andrew was...quiet. He has been quiet for a while. No, no, I'm not saying this right…

Andrew has not left his room in a week. Seven members, seven sweaters. But knitting wasn't the only thing that kept him from leaving the safe haven that was his room. He was afraid of getting out. But he would listen. He would listen to them talk, he would listen to them walking past his room. He would especially listen for Levi, and while he hasn't seen her for a while, listening to her while he hid away simply made him even more convinced of the fact that she was the center of this family.

She would help Amber when everyone's thoughts got too loud.

She...convinced London to eat- and sleep. A miracle, perhaps.

She managed to give Artezia a purpose.

To help Nuel smile.

And to make Samuel feel like a father again.

She was… a saint.

His eyebrows came together.

But what did they do for her? She was helping everyone….and what did they do for her?

Andrew shook his head. He decided. He was going to try, at least, to make her feel better. He wasn't even sure if she felt bad. He just, thought she might need a few words of encouragement.

As his thoughts consumed him, his fingers continued working, faster and faster, and before realising it, he was done. It even had a design on the front! He didn't even realise he'd done it!

Leya raised her head, eyeing him lazily.

"Finish?"

"Finire. F-Finish." His cheeks grew rosy- Hopefully, he wouldn't repeat the same mistake in front of Levi. He picked Leya up, and moved her from his lap, setting her on the bed where she rolled out, exposing her belly.

"Maybe later?" He smiled, running a hand through her slick fur. She simply purred and rolled over. He nodded. "Good." And picked up his sweater, making his way to the door. His hand hovered over the handle, his heart pounding against his ribcage. What if she won't like it? What if she will shove it in his face, and claim she wants a real family with- …

With her brother back…

Andrea lowered his gaze, looking at his hand as he gripped the handle, squeezing it tightly, biting his lip, water dripping from the tips of his fingers. The air in the room had gotten denser, condensation forming on the walls.

"Calm!" Leya meowed at him from the bed, snapping him out of his fear.

"Right." he thought, the room drying instantly. "I can't think like this. And if she doesn't like it, there are plenty of people who need warm clothes around this time. Yes, thank you, Leya!!" He opened the door, and stepped out, the scent of cinnamon filling his senses as he walked out into the hallway. He smiled sadly, curling his toes on the carpet. Cinnamon…

The boy made his way to the living room, hiding the sweater behind his back.

"Levi…~" He sung softly, as he pushed against the door to the living room, finding her curled up on the couch, enjoying a glass of wine with Samuel.

Both her and Samuel's eyes lit up as they saw him. He felt...welcomed.

"Yeah??" She said, watching him as he moved to stand in front of her.

"Sit up!" He grinned.

"Why?"

Samuel smiled knowingly. "Just do it."

"Okay fine!" She groaned, pushing herself off the couch, Andrew stepping aside to make room for her.

"Now close your eyes and raise your hands." She did as he asked, grumbling something under her breath, raising her hands and closing her eyes, almost reluctantly. He pulled the sweater over her head, pulling her hair out from underneath it, stepping back, and clapping his hands.

"It looks good! Open your eyes!!! Do you like it??" He said, smiling, happy to see that the shade of red he chose worked well with the colour of her hair.

"What?? What? What does it look like???" She said, looking down at her sweater.

"Hold on!" Andrew took a step to the side, waving his hand as water poured from his fingers, forming a glossy mirror in front of her. He SWORE he could hear Samuel sigh "flashy" under his breath. It made him chuckle.

" 'Ducky!' Dew- you didn't-" She eyed her sweater, observing the duck on her sweater, looking a bit too happy to be sitting out in the snow.

"No, no- I did. I, want you to hear me out for a second, Ducky-"

She scoffed. "Ducky…"

Ignoring the blush forming on his cheeks, he continued.

"You're family to me. We, we always used to give each other presents, before they… So I wanted to make this for you." He looked at Samuel over her shoulder. "I'll make one for you too!!"

Samuel simply waved his hand, urging him to continue.

"So, I uh, I wanted to thank you. For being family to us. I know we might never replace what was taken from you. And I apologise for that. I do. But you help each and every one of us so much, simply by being here. Simply by being you. And I know this is a bit too- cheesy, or sappy- But we care for you. We truly, do care for you. And I hope we can do as much good for you as you have done for us. And help you as much as you helped us. You're a blessing in this house. A spirit that never lets the others drown. A miracle in our lives. And a saving grace. You're amazing, and beautiful, and kind, and…" He bit his lip, stopping the tears forming in his eyes, blinking them away. "And I'm sorry if we sometimes give you headaches. I'm sorry we're not the best bunch. You deserve the best, and we clearly aren't that. But we love you. And we owe everything to you. Including our lives. I hope you know that."

"Fuck, bro, why you gotta get all mushy with me?? Come here-" She pulled him into a tight high, wrapping her arms around his shoulders. Samuel watched them from the couch, smiling softly at the sight.

"Thank you...For being our family." Andrew sighed against her shoulder.

"Fuck you." She said, chuckling softly.

"Oh!!! I almost forgot!" He pulled away from the hug. "I also made one for Muriel! It has Inanna on it!!"

Levi blushed. "YOU DIDNT."

He laughed. "I DID."

(And here I am again, another shitty short for you @trash-onthe-inside !!!! IM SO SORRY THEY TURN OUT SO BAD BUT IAJDKWKFK YOU DESERVE THE BEST AND LIKE THEYRE SO BAD IM SORRY ILL TRY TO MAKE IT BETTER NEXT TIME!!!!

Thank you for making every single one of my apprentices happy. Thank Levi for me.♡

I hope you'll like it. It's worse than the last one but....I tried.♡

Happy Chrisle.

-V. Brooks🦆)

5 notes · View notes

redhairdontcare732 · 5 years

Text

SweetPea x Reader: Riot Night from Hell, Part 1

Author's Note: This one shot will be split into two parts. I just fell in love with this storyline, and the finished product turned out to be way longer than I had anticipated. There will be flashbacks interwoven throughout the story, and they're distinguished by the use of italics.

On another note, if you are enjoying my fics, please do me a solid and either favorite or comment on them so I know that someone (other than me) is interested in them. I'm a new writer, and even the simplest comment, like, or even private message would mean so much for my budding confidence!

Reader POV:

As I stood on the roof of Pop's, I internally questioned how my life had turned so far sideways in the course of just one day. Riverdale was in complete fucking chaos. My best friend was just shot and I had no idea if he was alive or dead, I had no clue where my boyfriend was, and the cherry on the top of this nightmarish day was that I was now stuck at Pop’s Diner, of all fucking places, with Archie Andrews, of all goddamned people, while Ghoulies patrolled the exterior, screaming my name. So on my list of top days, this was at the literal bottom.

The day had started out decently, I was with Sweets all day preparing for what would happen once Fangs was finally released. Sweet Pea and I had been dating for almost 5 years now, and we'd both spent the day doing everything we could to get our friend out of jail. Thing had really gotten fucked up when we went to the sheriff's office to escort Fangs out in one piece. I shivered internally as I recalled the events of today.

“IN UNITY THERE IS STRENGTH”, we shouted in unison, locking arms shoulder to shoulder. Everyone pulled away as we mentally prepared ourselves to usher Fangs out of the jail amongst the vengeful protestors. Sweet Pea was the only one who didn't pull away from me; rather, he pulled me closer into his arms and I naturally fell into his broad chest; I took a deep inhale of his familiar, comforting scent of worn leather, light cologne, and fresh soap. My hands found their way to the inside of his serpent jacket, hugging myself closer to him and shivering. Though it wasn't cold in the Sheriff's office I had these ominous chills that had racked my body ever since we'd entered. His thumbs brushed gently against the exposed skin between my ripped jeans and my white t shirt, soothing me in a way I didn't even know I needed. I sighed in contentment, briefly pulled from the swirl of anxious, dark thoughts that had plagued my mind since Fangs was arrested.

“I'm not gonna lie Y/N/N, I get why you have to come out with us, but I'm not thrilled with the idea of you out there with all those insane Northside assholes babydoll”, he murmured into my hair after a few moments. I chuckled lightly against him, tightening my arms around the handsome boy in reassurance.

“I'm not exactly thrilled that you are either Pea, but we both know that we aren't about to let Fangs go through this alone”, I replied quietly. Sweets pulled back slightly, bringing his large hands to rest against the sides of my face. His rough thumbs rubbed delicately across my cheek as he stared deeply into my eyes; I knew in that moment just how scared Pea really was. In times of stress Sweet Pea had the habit of taking my face into his hands, gently cradling my cheeks with the pads of his fingers and his eyes boring deeply into mine. I'd never really given it much thought at first; Sweets had done this since we were kids, and eventually when I pressed about it he had told me that he felt like he just ‘needed to know I was safe’. It somehow comforted him when he was able to see with his own eyes and feel with his own hands that I was indeed still with him. I brought my hands up to cover his gently. We stood like this for an indiscernible amount of time until he sighed in resolve. He brought my face closer to his with his hands and kissed me deeply. Normally, despite his tough exterior, Pea gave the sweetest kisses. His lips, though plump and rough were typically gentle and teasing against mine; Sweets preferred to initiate soft kisses until I moaned or deepened things myself. I think he began this habit when we were young and first together because he was nervous about my reciprocation, but he continues now because he just loved to watch the reaction he still had on me. And while the soft way Pea usually kissed me was one of my favorite things about him, I was surprised to find this kiss was very different. His lips were immediately needy against mine, tongue entering my mouth without warning. It was a kiss of desperation, of longing. Our mouths danced together as we both poured all of the emotions that our voices could not do justice to into our embrace. I was just as needy as him, but before too long we pulled back, foreheads resting against one another's. With one last peck to his swollen lips I nodded in resolve. Sweet Pea laced his warm fingers through mine, fitting together like pieces in a puzzle, and we headed out to the fray, hands locking us together.

I recalled how I’d gotten separated from the rest of the young serpents after Fangs was shot all because of the protesters and general pandemonium of it all. I had desperately searched amongst the crowd for the sight of the tall boy to no avail. My phone was dead, so I'd decided to search elsewhere. I ended up hopping on my bike and heading to the hospital, hoping to God that Sweets and Fangs would both be there and be okay. Adding to my growing fear and unease, it was only FP I found there, who broke the news that Fangs was in surgery.

“It's...ah... it's pretty bad kid”, FP drawled out while rubbing the back of his neck in nervousness. I felt my heart drop into the bottom of my feet. My eyes teared up at the prospect of losing my best friend. Fangs was so sweet and goofy; he should have never been in this position in the first place. My mind was flooded with picture perfect memories of summer days spent by the Quarry and late nights in Pea's trailer, surrounded by Fangs’ contagious laugh and ridiculous jokes. These memories ended abruptly as I recalled the way he'd slowly fallen to the ground, the red spot on his stomach spreading achingly fast. I remembered the sound of the gun above the screaming protestors. But most of all, I remembered Fangs’ face as he fell-- his soft features riddled with disbelief and pain as he slowly lost consciousness. He didn't deserve to go through this, and my heart felt like it was breaking into pieces because there was nothing I could do to help him. I wiped my tears with the sleeve of my shirt and steadied myself; with a deep breath, I reminded myself of my main goal at the moment. I needed to find Pea.

Despite FP’s best efforts towards the contrary, I'd left the hospital to try and find Sweet Pea. I knew that the whole town was in the middle of a full-on, apocalyptic riot, but I was determined to reconnect with my boyfriend and ensure that he was okay. Or as okay as he could be in this scenario, I guess. Knowing him for as long as I had, I knew that he was more likely than not spirling at the prospect of losing his best friend. And when Sweets spiraled, he spiraled hard and with violence. I was the only one with any chance of talking him off the ledge before he did something that he would regret later, and, honestly, I had also wanted to find him for completely selfish reasons. Even now, as I stood on the roof of our favorite diner, I desperately needed my boyfriend’s strong arms wrapped around me, his comforting scent surrounding me, and his deep voice in my ear telling me that everything was going to be okay.

So, I'd fought my way through Riverdale on my motorcycle, Mad Max style, trying to search anywhere I thought Sweets might be. I ended up at Pop's, hoping that either Pea would be there or Jughead would be and would know where he was. Pop's was an extremely important spot in our relationship; it was where he asked me out on our first date when we were 11 years old, it's where we shared our first kiss at 13, and it was in one of the booths near the back where Sweet Pea had told me he loved me for the first time. To this day the neon glow of Pop's never failed to make me happy or to give me hope.

However, the neon sign seemed dull and lifeless as I found, to my utter disappointment, he was not there. But not long after I showed up, Penny fucking Peabody and the Ghoulies arrived.

I was sitting with my head in my hands, having just been informed by Pop Tate that he hadn't seen Sweet Pea all day. The older man had his hand on my shoulders comfortingly, attempting to sooth my increasing level of anxiety. I glanced up at the kind, wrinkled face of Pop Tate and asked tiredly,

“Pop, you think I could use your phone?”. He nodded and handed me the receiver.

“ ‘Course sweetie”.

I dialed the number I'd long since memorized, praying that Pea would answer. Who knows what kind if trouble he could be in out there? My anxiety only increased as the line went dead, signaling that he hadn't answered. I slammed the phone down in frustration, returning to my previous position. Not seconds after, a giant crash hit my ears, and I heard the taunting voices that could only belong to Malachi and his Ghoulies.

“Oh Y/NNNNNNN, come out and playyyyyy”, Penny Peabody's sickening voice called out in a sing-song manner. “You and I have unfinished business DollFace”.

Penny as and I had never been on the best of terms; it was her and her snake charming ways that had nearly gotten my father released from prison, a thought which terrified me to my very core. Thankfully, the court system recognized the grave danger that would place me in and decided on a maximum life sentence. I thought that was the end of Penny and me, but unfortunately Jughead had to go and get himself tangled up with her when FP was locked up. I had taken my pseudo-brother's place in the deal he made, and once he came up with the plan to get rid of Penny I was all too eager to help. I knew she hated me, but I really thought she was gone for good.

“Okay we should be fine as long as-”, Archie started.

Another thunderous crash echoed through the small diner as one of the windows shattered.

“EVERYBODY STAY AWAY FROM THE WINDOWS”, I ordered as the burglar alarm blared.

“STAY DOWN”, someone shouted.

I ducked behind the counter, finding Archie Andrews down there as well.

“Pop do you have as gun in here?”, he asked tensely. The old man's soft face dropped.

“No. Had my fill of gunfire in the war. But I did learn a trick in the riots of ‘79. I have some liquor left over from Mr. Lodge's poker night”, he said tensely. “And if you can get to the roof from the crawlspace…”,

“I like how you're thinking Pop”, Archie interrupted. I nodded and shared a knowing look with my unlikely Northside ally.

I'd helped Archie Andrews board up the windows, and that's how I now found myself on the roof of Pop's with the ginger, liquor bottles in hand ready to fight the clinically insane gang below.

“Come on Y/N, you had to know that this moment was coming”, Penny shouted upwards at me, pulling me out of my trance. “It’s time to pay the price dollie”.

Malachai laughed, swinging his bat around teasingly. I glowered in response, choosing to stay silent. I felt Archie’s strong hand on my shoulder, offering support that I didn’t expect from the ginger boy. We'd been somewhat close as kids (friends through Jughead, my honorary self-proclaimed twin brother) but we hadn't spoken in a year or so. I wasn't overly fond of him as of late, ever since he ditched Jug for his Bulldog buddies and especially not since he'd waved a gun in Sweet's face and started his stupid Red Circle.

“Get the fuck out of here Penny, Y/N isn’t coming down and you’re not taking her any place”, he practically growled. I nodded.

“Last chance Ghoulie scum. Leave, or suffer the consequences”, I spat. Penny and Malachai scoffed.

“DO YOUR WORST! COME ON, HIT ME!”, Malachai shouted, a crazy look in his eye. Well, crazier than the usual insane look he wore. Steadying myself, I prepared the bottle. Lighting it quickly, I launched it as well as I could and managed to hit one of the ghoulies’ bikes dead on. The bike erupted in flames. This did nothing to faze the group below, and Archie lit his second bottle and prepared to throw it.

Before he could chuck the bottle, the Sheriff’s cruiser came bursting into the fray of Ghoulies, sirens blaring. Sheriff Keller and Fred Andrews came out of the car, Keller with a shotgun. He shot his shotgun in the air in warning and the Ghoulies scattered.

“This isn’t over Y/N!”, Malachai vowed as he ran away. I saw FP hop off his bike and demand that the rest of the Ghoulies leave. I smiled slightly in relief, and Archie and I shared a brief hug before heading back down into the restaurant.

Once we reached the bottom, I brought FP into a bone crushing hug as my way of thanks. He returned my affection, seeming like he needed the reassurance almost as much as I did in the moment. FP had always been there for me, especially since my own dad had gotten carted off to prison when I was 6. I'd stayed with the Jones’ on and off throughout my childhood, and it wasn't a stretch to say that FP was more of a father to me than my own. He was always there for me, and much like Sweet Pea he always tried to keep me from the less savory sides of life as Serpent. He pulled back from the hug to search my face for injuries. I rolled my eyes.

“You really think I'd let the discount Insane Clown Posse trash this beautiful mug?”, I joked half-seriously. FP rolled his eyes and glared.

“Seriously Y/N? What were you thinking taking on all those Ghoulies alone? You could've been fucking killed!”, he scolded. I scoffed.

“Okay first of all, I was not alone; our dear Archiekins was with me on the roof”, I said gesturing to the aforementioned boy who looked more like a wounded little puppy than anyone who'd just been tossing out Molotov cocktails had the right to. “Secondly, did it seem like I had many other options? And thirdly, I'm fine, so it couldn't have been that bad of a plan”, I sassed. FP sighed and ran a hand through his dark locks, eyes looking more tired than I knew he'd like to admit.

“Heard Sweet Pea is going insane looking for you Y/N; why the hell aren’t you answering your phone kid?”, he asked. I felt my heart flutter at the mention of my partner. My tough demeanor dropped instantly, and I grabbed FP’s arm.

“So he’s okay? Tell me he’s okay. My phone is dead; I'd tried calling on Pop's but he didn't answer. Where is he?”, I demanded. FP grabbed my arms gently.

“Whoa whoa slow down Y/NN. He’s fine, he’s good. He’s with Jug at the Wyrm”, he soothed. “Here, use my phone, call the boy and tell him you’re alright”.

I grabbed his phone eagerly, fingers swiftly dialing the number I knew by heart once again. My heart hammered in my chest as I heard the distinct ringing of the call being placed. I needed reassurance that my tall, dark haired other half was okay. With each ring of the phone my anxiety increased tenfold, until I heard the one thing I’d been searching for all night. That smooth, deep voice that could simultaneously calm me and send delicious tingles up my spine all at once. My mind flooded with the low rumbling chuckles and sweet sounds that comforted me as I laid on his chest in more tender moments, heart signaling sweet reassurances into my ears with each beat. My favorite sound in the world, Sweet Pea's voice

“Hello? FP, what’s up?”, I heard Sweet's soothing bass answer. Even though he sounded tense, panicked even, I couldn't help but feel elated that he was safe and able to speak to me at all. I sighed in complete relief.

“Pea? It’s me”, I answered quickly.

“Y/N/N? Oh my god are you okay? Where are you? Why aren’t you answering your phone?”, he questioned in a state of near panic.

“Sweets, it's okay, I’m okay. My phone is dead, and I’m at Pop’s with FP looking for you”, I breathed. “Are you okay? What happened to you after the Sheriff’s station?”.

“It’s a long story babydoll, I’ll tell you later. Where did you say you were? Stay there I’m coming to get you”, he replied. I shook my head before realizing that he couldn’t see me.

“No, Pea it’s not safe out there right now, and honestly it’s not safe here either. I’ll go with FP back to the Wyrm and meet you there”, I reasoned. He was silent for a beat, contemplating my words. I heard shuffling on the other line.

“Sweetheart, I know it’s not safe, that’s why I don’t want you out there”, he murmured. I could tell that he’d moved away from the other serpents; his sweet side was coming out and he probably didn’t want them to hear. “I just... I need you with me. I need to see you, hold you in my arms and know that you’re okay”.

My heart lurched at his protectiveness, warmth flooding my body at his tender words. I could practically picture his face, eyes cast downward and deep brown irises swimming with that look that he had always saved just for me. His chiseled jaw was probably locked, twitching with unease. If I were there I would run my fingers up and down his cheeks in an attempt to sooth the tense muscles, loving the way he relaxed and leaned into my touch.

“Sweets, I know. Believe me love, I want you safe just as much, but I promise I’ll make it over to you before you know it. The Wyrm is a hell of a lot safer than Pop’s at the moment, and besides I’ve been Mad Maxing my way through this nightmare of a town all night. I've got this”, I stated confidently. No matter how protective Pea could be, I was not some damsel in distress that needed his saving. There was no way on this Earth that I was going to let him go out into the riot that I’d been facing all night. He thought he could be protective but his fierceness had nothing on mine. He sighed and the line went silent for what felt like forever as I waited for his response.

“I love you”, he vowed finally.

“I love you more handsome. And I'm going to see you very soon”, I assured before we both ended the call. I turned to FP, handing him his phone.

“You down to help me get to the Wyrm?”, I asked. He nodded.

“Of course kid. You ready to ride on the back of my bike like you did when you were a tot?”, he grinned. I smiled in nostalgia for a moment, my mind wandering back to the simpler times of my life when FP would take me for rides on his bike to help me escape from the realities of my homelife, if only for a moment. I remembered fondly the day when he finally taught me how to drive my own bike that he gifted me. He always helped me take care of her, and some of my only true family memories were of Jug, FP, and I fixing up our bikes together. Surely he didn't think there was any way that I was going to leave her here in the midst of this shitshow.

“You're kidding”, I deadpanned. There was no way FP was for real.

“Dead serious kiddo. You need a way to get around, and I don't want you roaming the Southside alone even if Sweet Pea or Jug are with you”, he replied. I marvelled at the motorbike in front of us, tracing the chrome detailing with the tips of my fingers gently. I felt tears well up in my eyes and I rushed forward and enveloped him in a tight hug.

“Thank you”, I whispered. FP hugged me back briefly before affectionately mussing up my hair.

“Don't thank me yet kiddo, she still needs a ton of work. If you're up for it I mean”, he countered. I smiled my truest, widest smile.

“I'm in”.

“Think she needs a name don't you?”, he continued, heading over to the bike with his tools.

“Mhm”, I agreed, grabbing a tool out of the box and crouching down alongside him.

“She looks like a Norma to me”, I mused.

“Norma huh?”, he answered, not looking as I grabbed a tool from the box and began working.

“Yeah, Norma Jean”.

“I’m not leaving Norma Jean out here in this fucking dumpster fire of a town”, I countered. “I’ll just follow behind you”.

“That’s not a great idea kid”, he grumbled. “Riverdale is a hellhole on the best of days, and this is clearly not the best of days”. I crossed my arms petulantly.

“I'm not leaving Norma Jean here”, I repeated stubbornly. He sighed and rubbed his stubble ridden chin in contemplation.

“Okay, but you stay on my ass the whole way”, he countered, pointing a finger at me. “I move, you move. I stop you stop. You got that kid?”. I raised my hand solemnly.

“Scouts honor”, I stated seriously. He nodded, and we headed out of Pop’s together to fire up our motorcycles and head out.

We were speeding through the trashed streets of Riverdale, swerving here or there to avoid the dangers that littered the town’s once clean roads. I stayed true to my word and stuck close to FP as we traversed the potential dangers. I did my best to follow him, but after some rioters ran out in front of Norma I was forced to skid to a stop in the middle of the street. Among the din of the riot, FP didn't hear and he continued on. I huffed and began to start Norma up again in attempt to follow once more. But as I revved the engine I felt a pain like none I'd ever felt on the back of my head and my entire world went dark.

Sweet Pea's POV:

“Where the hell are they? She should be here by now”, I practically growled. Jughead lifted his hands up as if in surrender.

“Don't look at me man. Knowing how protective dad is over Y/N, and knowing how stubborn Y/N is, they're probably still fighting over how to get here. He's not gonna want her to ride alone, and she's not going to want to leave her bike”, he reasoned calmly. “Chill out Sweet Pea it's only been like 15 minutes, I'm sure they'll be here soon”, he continued before accepting a call and walking swiftly out of the bar to answer.

I blew air out of my mouth tensely, chest constricting tighter with each breath I took. While I knew that Jughead's words made sense, a larger more irrational part of me was still screaming that I needed to go out and find Y/N. My head was a swirl of rage and fear; my best friend was at some hospital fighting for his life, and the love of my life was out in this godforsaken nightmare of a town. There was nothing more I could do for Fangs, but I refused to stop until I knew my Y/N/N was safe. The only way I would be convinced that she was alright was if I got to hold her small frame in my arms. And to be perfectly truthful, I needed her warm body pressed against mine, her soft hair tickling my face, the sweet fragrance of her shampoo in my nose, and her melodic voice in my ear with gentle reassurances today more than ever. I needed her to keep me sane and grounded on the best of days, and this was sure as shit not the best of days. Ever since we were kids, long before I was ever lucky enough to call her mine, she'd been there to calm the ever-growing darkness that lived within me. Even once we got together I still needed her unique brand of tough love to set me straight at times.

“Pea stop!”, I heard her musical voice from behind me. I turned to see her comparatively shorter legs nearly running to keep up. I turned forward and continued on, ignoring the nagging urge to stop and listen to her.

“PEA I SWEAR TO FUCK-”, she shouted. I whipped around abruptly, stopping and standing nearly toe to toe with Y/N.

“Look, there's nothing you can say to change my mind Y/N. I'm not going back and that's it. Not everyone is cut out for this education shit, alright? I'll hit up Tall Boy, he's always got something lined up for me”, I practically snarled. I recoiled just the slightest bit at her stone cold face; her usually sweet features were scowling at me, adorable nose scrunched tight and dark eyebrows knitted together in concern and irritation. Y/N wasn't usually one to show when she was frustrated. No that was me; when I was angry everyone in a ten mile radius would know. I was like a wildfire, burning bright and scorching anything and everything in my path in a wave of red destruction. Her brand of anger was more like a blue flame, dark and understated, but more intense than you could imagine. My girlfriend could be downright terrifying at times, and to see her frustration directed at me nearly made me reconsider. She crossed her arms stubbornly.

“Give it up Sweets, you can't fool me with your ‘too cool to care’ act. I know you, and I know that you don't really want to quit school”, she growled. I huffed and ran a hand through my hair, frustration reigniting.

“Maybe you don't know me as well as you thought”, I spat. “In fact, why don't you just fucking leave? Everyone else does”.

I turned once again, walking quickly down the steps and away from the shithole that was Southside High. For a few moments I could tell that Y/N was still standing there motionless, and I felt an overwhelming amount of guilt and self-loathing overtake me. Why did I always do this? I couldn't even fathom the idea of my life without Y/N in it, but here I was trying my damnedest to push her away. But to face facts, Y/N was too good for me. She always had been. Too many thoughts swirled in my head all at once, and I quickly grabbed the helmet to my bike so I could ride and forget about them all. But just before my fingertips grazed the shiny black plastic of my visor , I felt a hand on my shoulder yanking me back. Y/N threw her arms around my waist, hugging me fiercely.

“No.”, she stated firmly, the sound slightly muffled by my chest.

“No?”, I scoffed.

“No, I'm not leaving you Sweet Pea. Not now, not ever. Get that through your head”, she replied while lifting her head slightly from my body. My heart fluttered, and I sighed in disbelief and skepticism. I tried to pull back from her vice grip, but like a boa constrictor she simply responded by squeezing my middle tighter. My hands hovered over her waist for a second or two before sinking into her embrace, grasping her as tightly as she did me.

“Sure Y/NN”, I murmured into her Y/H/C hair, breathing in deeply her familiar, comforting in an attempt to slow my racing heart. She always smelled the same: lilac scented shampoo mixed with some cheap perfume I'd gotten her for her birthday one year and a hint of cigarette smell. Normally I hated the way stale smoke smelled, especially on women, but somehow the scent was so uniquely Y/N that I couldn't help but love it.

“I'm serious Pea. Nothing you could ever say or do would make me give up on you”, she swore softly while looking up from the confines of my arms. “I love you, all of you. Even when you're so god-damned frustrating that it makes me want to strangle you, even when you do stupid and dangerous things, and even when you are so broken that you try to push me away I will still be there, loving you. I. Will. Never. Leave.You.”.

Her y/e/c swam with a mix of emotions: love, determination, sadness, desperation. I reached hesitantly up to her cheeks to rest my calloused fingers against her soft face, needing to feel her with my own hands and see her with my own eyes. With every sweet moment like this it became easier, but I too often needed to remind myself that she was indeed here. She was real, and she wanted me. Her dark fan of black lashes fluttered closer together as she closed her eyes slowly, reaching her hands up to rest across mine while her fingers traced delicate patterns across the backs of my hands. I was overcome with a feeling that I wasn't sure I could even explain. I decided in that moment that I was never going to let anything ruin this, what we had. Not even if that thing was me.

“I love you Y/N/N. I love you so much babydoll”.

With every passing moment that she wasn't here with me I felt myself becoming more and more unhinged. I paced around for what felt like an eternity. Voices swirled around me, and I couldn't have even guessed what they were talking about. When I finally tuned in, I found that FP had shown up. I immediately rushed over to him, eyebrows raised.

“FP, where's Y/N?”, I asked quickly, hope bubbling up in my chest amongst the fear that still swirled. His tired, worried face told me all I needed to know, but still I found myself asking again, panic evident in my voice. He shook his head sorrowfully.

“I don't know what happened man, she was right behind me the whole time and then all of the sudden she wasn't. I circled back and searched over and over but I don't know where she went off to Sweet Pea”, he admitted. My shoulders dropped and the fear that had been slowly building up all day suddenly contorted itself into a rock that sank into the bottom of my stomach. FP clapped a hand on my shoulder, finger pointing in my face, a determined expression in his eyes.

“Don't worry SP, she's the toughest girl I've ever known. She gonna be fine. We're going to find her man, I promise”, he spoke tersely. He sounded sure on the outside, but I could tell that he was just about as scared as me. It made sense, Y/N was practically FP’s daughter at this point; he and Jughead were the closest thing that she'd ever had to a family, other than myself. It was for that reason, and that reason alone, that I forced the anger that was bubbling within me back down. FP's phone buzzed, and he turned away to answer.

“What do we do man? I've gotta find her!”, I shouted after him. Already 5 steps ahead, I grabbed my jacket and began to head for the door. I'd been patient enough; now it was time to go and search for my Y/N/N myself.

“SWEETPEA!”, I heard a female voice shout from behind me. I turned to find Toni weaving her way through the throng of serpents with that red headed Northside queen bee following closely behind. She reached me and grabbed my arm so tightly that it would have hurt if I were capable of focusing on anything else but Y/N.

“Topaz I really don't have time for this right now. Y/N is still out there and--”, I started before the small, pink haired serpent shook her head furiously.

“No, that's what I'm trying to tell you Pea! I was held hostage by the Ghoulies, and when Cheryl and I were leaving I saw one of them roll in on Norma Jean”, she exclaimed breathlessly, eyes slightly wild.

“It's true. We would have stopped, but I'd just saved TT from those Neanderthals and we didn't have the same element of surprise on our sides this time”, the Queen Bee replied. My hands clenched into tight fists.

“So you're telling me that those Ghoulie scum have my Y/N?”, I spat through my teeth, eyes squinting shut in fury. Toni nodded. I felt my body start to quiver in total rage. A small, buried part of me was terrified at the prospect of my girl being surrounded by those fuckers. Sure, Y/N was as tough as they come, but those Ghoulies were certifiably insane. And she was probably way out numbered. My mind refused to accept the possibilities of what could being happening to her at this very moment, and my entire being chose to ignored this fear in favor of blinding fury.

“You have to take me there Topaz. Now.”, I demanded. Her pink locks bobbed with her head as she nodded grimly.

“Toni, where were the Ghoulies keeping you?”, FP interrupted. His face was grim and his mouth drawn into a straight line.

“I'm bringing SP there now, they've got Y/N”, she replied quickly.

“I know. I think Jughead just went to go save her, and now they've got them both”, FP choked. My hands clenched and unclenched with unabashed anger.

“Well what the fuck are we waiting for? Let's go”, I nearly screamed as I pulled Toni out the door and to our rides.

#riverdale #archie comics #fanfic #fangs fogarty #fangs fogarty imagine #riverdaleimagine #southsideserpents #sweetpeaxoc #sweet #sweet pea #sweet pea imagine #sweet pea oneshot #sweet pea reader #sweet pea x oc #sweet pea x reader #sweet pea x you #fp jones #jugheadjones

132 notes · View notes

harryhubba · 6 years

Text

Honey, part 1

Something about recently signed and big dreamed-singer Y/N and kind hearted Shawn who only wants to help her

Y/N has a little bit of a problem.

Or, maybe a few of them. She really didn’t expect to attend the party she was at tonight. It was rather lavish and definitely getting rowdier as the night continued. The venue was partially outside, decorated with plants, trendy art and orange tinted lights; dark enough to hide those with bloodshot eyes from too much too drink but light enough to give everyone that ‘celebrity’ glow. Not to mention the decorations and people looked just expensive enough for her to feel out of place. She also didn’t expect to be standing in bar area with a broken phone staring sadly at her by her feet. Who’s phone? That, she thought, was a good question - and one she didn’t exactly want to know the answer to (for fear she would burst into tears at the chance of it being one of the many famous people here).

So now she was standing cluelessly by a mess that was obviously her doing, wondering how she can either fix this mystery phone without having the owner notice, or find a way to tell them without causing a scene and getting shouted at.

See, Y/N was rightfully invited, of course. It was just that this party was thrown by someone connected to Andrew Gertler, Y/N’s new manager, and Y/N hadn’t seen him, or anyone else she knew for that matter, since an hour ago when she arrived.

That’s how she found herself by the bar. It was much easier to socialise after a few drinks, and much easier to claim her stumbly feet on alcohol instead of just being stupid. She wouldn’t say she was extremely shy, but definitely a little shy, and interacting with famous people felt akin to trying to talk to the ‘popular girls’ in high school. In other words, not something she really did.

So whether it was the drinks, or indeed just her being clumsy, when she leaned her elbow against the bar (finally finding somewhere to relax as everyone had migrated to the outdoor deck) the phone had fallen.

Hearing the sound of footsteps approaching, she quickly bends her knees and squats down, grimacing when she wears the crack of her bones from the fast movement. Using rather speedy movements, she attempts to collect the shards of glass that had broken off the screen before anyone noticed, piling them into the palm of one hand.

Why should I be so stressed when the owner can almost definitely afford another phone without even blinking an eye, is what Y/N wanted to say. She doesn’t, however. Instead, her head snaps up at the feeling of a body kneeling down next to her.

“Woah woah woah, stop.” A honey-like voice rushes out. “What are you doing?” A warm hand darts out over Y/N’s to stop her movement. Looking up, she almost forgets to breathe at the face of Shawn Mendes right by hers. He’s cute. Undeniably cute, and beautiful. And that is if she’s keeping it modest. It’s his hair, she decides. Brown and floppy and in messy ringlets that don’t seem to want to stay together, but look just perfect for running her fingers through. And skin that looks golden from a tan; she didn’t even think he could get a tan from what she had seen online.

What a way to meet her favourite pop star, though, the one she’s daydreamed about for probably all of her teenage years. It had to be when she had a burning face from embarrassment, a strangers broken phone, and glass piled in her hands, didn’t it? Y/N thinks it is just the tip of the iceberg that her one chance to make an impression had to be now, of all times, and all she wants to do is go back home to her cat Marlow and burrow into her couch until all is forgotten. At least there she could rely on Jake Peralta to distract her.

“Hey… You alright?” At the sudden realisation that she must be staring, Y/N regains her senses and pulls her hand out from under his quickly (disappointingly). She continues to pick up the smaller pieces from around the phone, wary of anyone who might step on it.

“Yeah! M’good, all good!” Her eyebrows furrow when she hears the high and wavering pitch of her voice but it’s the slip of one her feet the causes her hand drop and stabilise herself on the ground.

A profanity falls out of mouth at a sharp pain that shoots in her hand, and she’s almost too distracted to notice Shawn grabbing her shoulder to stop her from falling. If she could have stopped to take a second she would have been able to focus on how warm and comforting his large hands feel on her shoulder. The pain radiating from her hand didn’t exactly allow this. Turning her hand over, red was smudged over the centre and she can make out the glimmer of glass somewhere amongst the mess. She can’t say she’s surprised to see blood but either way, she definitely does not want to keep looking at it.

“Okay, fuck, okay” Shawn hurries, wrapping his free hand around her other shoulder. “Up y’get, honey, come on.” Y/N follows his movements blindly, standing up from his support while holding her hand out in front of her. Her heart flutters at the pet name he used. Honey. She imagines that’s what he would call her if they were a couple. But she shakes it off quickly, he calls all his fans that. Shawn takes a second to glance over her hand, visibly wincing, before raking a hand through his hair.

His eyes flicker between her own and her hand, “Alright, well, let me take you to the bathroom and we can see how bad it is, okay?”

Y/N nods, before opening her mouth with the presence of his eyes on hers “Yeah, okay. Okay.” It’s then that Shawn places a hand on the middle of her back and guides her in the direction of what she guesses is the bathroom. Her eyes widen at the heat of his rings and skin against hers, her outfit choice void of fabric in that area due to her choice of a top.

“What the fuck, man!” She hears the familiar voice of Andrew before she sees him, the friendly man coming into view in a button up shirt, appearing slightly tousled and definitely intoxicated. “What have you done to her?” He laughs in Shawn’s direction, a hand coming to rest on his shoulder. Shawn merely chuckles in his direction.

“Very funny, bro. M’just helping out.”

Andrew turns his head towards Y/N, reaching his other arm to rest on her shoulder. Her feet stumble over one another at the sudden weight, pushing her shoulder against Shawn’s. Being between two strong men, one clearly drunk, makes her feel a little like a doll compared to them; she hates it, in all honesty.

Shawn barely stumbles at the intrusion, not surprisingly considering his height, but nudges Y/N forward with his hand on her back and mumbles.

“Are you okay, Y/N!?” He all but shouts as he leans closer to her. Y/N raises her eyebrows at how funny he is when he’s drunk and Andrew stares at her with wide concerned eyes.

“I’m fine! It’s okay.” She tells him with a smile, patting him on the shoulder with her non injured hand. At the sound of someone calling Andrew’s name, Shawn taps his fingers against Y/N’s back, bending down so she could hear him.

“C’mon,”

It’s when she’s seated on the bathroom sink that Y/N finally get a second to breathe. It’s much quieter in here. Nicely decorated too, with rounded counter edges that save Y/N from getting uncomfortable and ending up with red lines on the backs of her thighs.

Leaning her head back against the wall behind her with a thump, she closes her eyes. Shawn was looking through the bathroom sink cupboard to her right and she lets out a breath through her nose. She hopes he didn’t hear that. Really, this was how she planned to remain as indifferent to Shawn as she could. Being distant and not too friendly. It’s not that she didn’t like him - it was made clear before that that couldn’t be further from the truth. It was just that Y/N was lonely. Her heart thumped at even the daydreams she made up in her head, let alone really being close to a man.

She had done everything, of course. Well, the big one, at least. But kissing, like a real kiss, was something she was still waiting for.

What Y/N really didn’t want was to get attached. Get her hopes up. It gets hard when you’ve lived for 18 years and haven’t been in a relationship, let alone had someone be excited to see you and not your friends. Gone out to a party and been the centre of attention instead of the one alone at the bar while her friends found someone for the night. Granted, this type of thing had only happened since she turned 18 (she definitely wasn’t sneaking into bars…)

She’s brought out of her thoughts when Shawn stands up again. She thinks so at least, her eyes are still closed.

“Hey… are you feeling okay?” She peeks her eyes open at this. He’s standing up next to her, still a little taller even though she’s sitting on the counter, and his eyes are filled with concern, she thinks.

Really, she felt a little dizzy from drinking. Serves her right, she supposed.

“Mmm,” she hums, moving her head off the wall to look at him a little clearer. He’s running a washcloth under water in the basin besides her.

When he moves back up he gestures to her hand with his own. “Do you mind if I…?” With a nod of her head, Shawn takes her hand in his own.

His hand seemed to completely cover my own as he held it up for him to see. His skin on hers was gentle, even with calloused fingers from playing guitar, and when she started to notice how much bigger his hand was then hers she had to close her eyes again.

He was moving her arm around, looking at it from a few different angles before setting it back at the height of his stomach.

“Looks like the glass is just sitting on top so I’m gonna try move it, okay? Tell me if it hurts and I’ll stop.”

“Shit, really?” What if it’s actually in the skin?

“You can do it if you like. I’m sure it’s just resting on top and not actually in your hand. If it is we can take you to the hospital.” His eyes flicker between her own.

“No, no. You do it, I don’t think I could bear it.” She breathes with a laugh.

With a nod, he pulls up her hand again to go back to work, taking notice of how her nose is scrunched and her eyebrows are creased in preparation for glass being supposedly pulled out of her hand.

A second passes. And another. And another. And soon enough it’s been probably 20 seconds and she hasn’t felt any immense pain or pulling skin. Peeking one eye open, her face falls when she sees Shawn standing with the glass off her hand and a grin spreading wide over his face.

“Ok, well maybe you were right.”

He hums, with what she would call a shit eating grin on his face.

“Just need to clean it and bandage it up and you should be good.” A strand of his hair flops on his forehead when he puts guides her hand under the tap and Y/N wants to run her fingers through it and see if his eyes flutter.

A sharp pain makes Y/N wince, her opposite hand moving up to grip Shawn’s forearm in pain. It’s when his eyes move up to hers that she realises, and she releases her fingers, mumbling a “Sorry.”

“It’s alright.” He gives her a little smile. “Does it hurt?”

“No, no. It’s okay, keep going.”

He speaks again when he focuses his attention back on her arm, turning the tap off and dabbing it dry.

“Hey, sorry about your phone.”

“My phone?” Y/N’s eyebrows scrunch.

“Yeah… the one you dropped?”

THE phone.

“Oh. OH. Fuck, I forgot!” In her little fantasy world with Shawn Mendes, Y/N had forgotten the real problem. Mystery celebrities phone.

“What is it?” Shawn questions, surprised at her sudden urgent tone.

“Ok, don’t, like, expose me or anything but that wasn’t my phone.”

“Wait, really? So you, like, broke another persons phone?” He chuckles, fingers pressing the plaster onto her skin.

“Stop! Don’t say it like that, I honestly didn’t mean to and I’m kind of freaking out because I don’t know whose it is and I can’t even check the screen because the whole thing is smashed and-“

“Hey, love, it’s all good okay? You’re fine, I’ll help you find whose it is.”

“But… yeah, okay, thanks. That’s really helpful.” When Y/N let’s out a short sigh, Shawn releases a breath of laughter of his own.

“You don’t sound too convinced, honey.”

“I mean, it’s just that, I don’t know. If I do find them and they get mad I can’t really afford to buy them a new phone or anything.”

There’s a pause.

“NOT THAT, not that I’m like implying I want you to help me pay for it, not at all,” She rushes. “I just mean I’m kind of scared to approach who ever they are.”

There’s another pause. Shawn flips her hand over so her bandaged palm is resting on his.

“You know,” He taps his other hand on top of hers in what she guesses is comfort, “Pretty much everyone here is a celebrity.”

Y/N raises her eyebrows at him. So?

“...It’s not like they won’t be able to afford a new one.”

“Do you really think I could get out without anyone noticing? Like I’m pretty sure some people saw me drop it and the owner might have noticed by now.”

Shawn hums, nodding his head in agreement.

“You know what, if you come out with me, I’ll help you sneak out this back entrance.” Y/N feels her heart jump.

“Are you sure? I don’t want to pull you away from the party…”

“Did you see Andrew?” He laughs, “Watching a bunch of drunk people is no fun anyways.”

A laugh escapes Y/N, agreeing with what he was saying. At least she wasn’t the only one who wasn’t feeling the evening.

“So what do you say we find a way out of here, ey?”

#ok so maybe im a little into shawn mendes all of a sudden #shawn mendes #shawn mendes smut #shawn mendes fic #shawn mendes imagine #shawn mendes blurb #shawn mendes one shot #shawn mendes dirty imagine #shawn mendes writing

159 notes · View notes

lifemuchgreener · 6 years

Text

Brothers Trust - Chapter 9

STORY SUMMARY: You enter the Brothers Trust contest on a whim, not expecting to win. But what happens when you do?

CHAPTER SUMMARY: Your plans for the summer change suddenly when you don’t get a good grade in one of your classes and have to retake it as a summer class. Everything is going okay until an exposé is published about your relationship with Tom just days before the premiere of Spider-Man: Far From Home.

WARNINGS: Swearing and ANGST.

WORD COUNT: 1744

AUTHOR’S NOTE: 👀👀👀 also: Y/C/N refers to the name of the college or university you go to for the sake of this story.

Prologue: here

Chapter/Day One: here

Chapter/Day Two: here

Chapter/Day Three: here

Chapter/Day Four: here

Chapter Five: here

Chapter Six: here

Chapter Seven: here

Chapter Eight: here

Your second semester of school flies by even faster than the first semester did. Maintaining a long distance relationship with one of the world’s current most popular actors, keeping up with all of your classes, and finding time for anything else is not an easy feat but you manage. At least you think you do.

“Yes!” your roommate exclaims loudly which startles you from packing up things on your desk. “Grades were just uploaded.”

She’s been refreshing her laptop browser for the last hour and a half, eagerly waiting to see what her final grades are. You’re not too worried so you’ve decided to get some packing done but you figure a five minute break to check your grades won’t hurt.

You open up your laptop, log into your student account, and click the link that will take you to your grades.

“Holy fuck,” you say, staring at the one unimpressive letter in front of your eyes.

“What’s wrong?” your roommate asks.

“I, uh.” You swallow hard, your throat suddenly feeling dry. “I got a D.”

She’s silent for a moment. “Ah, well...at least that’s a passing grade?”

You shake your head. “It’s a class for my major -- it doesn’t count. I don’t get credit. Fuck.”

She instantly tries to do some damage control. “What’s the course number? I’ll see if they’re offering it over the summer.”

You tell her the number and close your eyes as she does a search. This can’t be happening.

“They’re offering it over the summer,” she says. “It’s going to be okay. You can just take it again without disrupting your four-year plan.”

“Summer classes are so expensive. And it costs a lot of money to stay on campus during the summer, too -- I can’t afford that.”

“Move in with Andrew and me,” she says. “We’ve already signed the lease for an apartment nearby. He’s taking a couple of summer classes to get ahead and I’m staying in the area for my internship with the local newspaper. We were going to look for a third person to split the apartment with anyway.”

“Who’s Andrew?”

“That guy that tried to ask you out last semester,” she says. “We, uh, took a class together this semester and we’ve been dating for a few months. I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want it to be weird.”

You haven’t really talked to Andrew since that party in November. That’s why you don’t remember his name -- who needs Andrew when your boyfriend is Tom Holland?

“Could I? Is that okay?” you ask.

She smiles at you. “I wouldn’t have asked if it wasn’t okay.”

So you move from your dorm room into a cute little apartment down the street with your roommate and your roommate’s boyfriend, who just so happens to be the same guy who asked you out on a date during your first semester. The first month together goes smoothly despite this: you enjoy meals together at the tiny kitchen table, you have movie marathons, you binge-watch Netflix.

It’s the end of June when shit hits the fan.

You wake up to the consistent buzzing of your phone which is extremely annoying; it’s a Friday and you’d like to sleep in because your class only meets on Wednesdays and Thursdays.

Normally when you post a selfie or something you’ll wake up with a few hundred notifications -- some of Tom’s fans still like and comment on every new picture you post despite the contest being nearly ten months ago. But you haven’t posted a picture recently which is what confuses you.

You unlock your phone and check Instagram to see what all the fuss is about since that’s where the majority of the notifications are coming from. Tom Holland fan accounts are tagging you in photos, which isn’t anything new, but it’s the actual photos that they’re tagging you in that make your heart skip a beat. They’re photos that nobody would have access to except for you and Tom.

Tom kissing your cheek. You kissing his. Your fingers intertwined. A selfie you took with Tom and Tessa. All photos you had taken together when you visited for New Years and had printed out on special paper in the school library so you could put them on your wall next to your signed picture with him.

Your first thought is that someone hacked into the school’s printing system somehow and released the photos on Tumblr or maybe one of the Reddit threads that has to do with Marvel. But then you notice that all the comments on the pictures are talking about some sort of article. You figure that doing some investigating will be easier to do on a bigger screen so you grab your laptop and do a search in Google for ‘tom holland girlfriend 2019.’

The first result is for some magazine that you have never heard of. The article in particular, titled “Tom Holland Has A Secret Girlfriend...OMG!” was evidently posted three hours ago. You click on the link and immediately begin to read.

Move over Zendaya...Tom Holland’s got a new girl! But is she really that new?

Her name is Y/F/N Y/L/N and she’s a student at Y/C/N. You may recognize her from this picture--

There’s a break in the paragraph to show the picture of you and Tom that Nikki had taken on the day you visited the Far From Home set.

--because she was the winner from a contest put on by an organization created by the Holland family back in the summer of 2018. Holland and Y/L/N started a long distance relationship in the fall and she spent a portion of her winter vacation at his place in London.

There’s another picture. This time it’s you and Tom laying in his bed post-sex. Both of you are topless and while the sheets are covering your chest, it’s pretty obvious that you two had just been at it: your hair is disheveled and your lips are more colored than normal from kissing. Beads of sweat glisten on Tom’s hairline and there’s a lovely flush across his cheeks as he presses a kiss to your bare shoulder.

You’re instantly infuriated. How fucking dare someone post such an intimate picture of you two without your permission? You scroll back up to the top of the page instead of continuing to read and your eyes widen with surprise when you find the byline.

You push yourself off of your bed and throw open the door of your tiny bedroom. Your heart is beating fast as you check the small living room and kitchen. The bathroom door is open and nobody is in the shower. Without a second thought you throw open their bedroom door, not caring what you’ll find on the other side.

But that’s empty too. There’s no sign of her or him.

“Fuck!” you swear loudly, tears starting to spill from your eyes. You fist your hands into your hair and let out an angry scream. “How fucking could she?”

You double over onto the floor like you’ve been punched in the stomach. You’re pretty sure a punch would hurt less than this betrayal of trust from a person you thought was your friend. You continue to cry and scream, pounding your fists against the carpeted floor. You’re grateful that nobody lives below you.

You stop crying when you hear the sound of your phone ringing in your bedroom. You pick yourself up off of the floor and sulk to your room, a whole new wave of tears coming over you when you see that it’s Tom who’s calling.

“I’m so sorry,” you sob into the phone, trying to control your voice the best you can. “Tommy, I’m so sorry.”

“Shh,” he says and even though you feel like the world is falling apart, his voice still manages to comfort you.

“I didn’t know she would,” you take a deep shaky breath. “I don’t know why…”

“That doesn’t matter right now,” he says. “It happened and now we have to do some damage control. I wanted to make sure you’re okay.”

“Well, I’m not okay.”

He sighs. “I mean, like, I wanted to make sure she didn’t have a knife to you or something.”

“She doesn’t. I can’t even find her. She’s not in the apartment.”

“You need to get out of there,” he advises. “I don’t want there to be a confrontation between you two. Go to a coffee shop or a park or something. Just get out of the apartment before she gets back.”

You put Tom on speakerphone as you get ready to leave.

“How do we do damage control?” you ask.

“I’ll take care of it,” he says. “I’m going to talk to everyone I know and see what they think I should do because babe, I know it might sound like I know what I’m doing, but I totally don’t. I’ve never had to deal with anything like this before and I want to get advice on what to do.”

“So what do I do?”

“I need you to wait,” he says. “Don’t reply to anything yet. I’ll text you as soon as I figure out what to do.”

“Fuck, Tom, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s not your fault so stop apologizing. Lay low for a little bit. I’ll send you a message as soon as I come up with a plan.”

“Okay,” you say. “I can do that.”

“Good.” You can hear him smile through the phone despite the stressful situation. “I’ll talk to you later.”

You hang up the phone and dry your eyes off with the sleeves on your shirt. You grab your phone charger, apartment keys, and bag before heading out the door. Your feet lead you to a little coffee place not too far away and you sit at a table in the back, attempting to distract yourself with games on your phone as you impatiently wait for Tom’s message.

What do you think about joining me for the movie premiere on Monday?

Your fingers dance across your phone screen as you write back your reply of: That’s the plan you’ve come up with?

Will you or won’t you? Harrison’s already arranged for an Uber to pick you up and drive you to the airport and if we don’t cancel it within the next minute they’ll still charge him.

Yes, you type back. Yes. I’ll go with you.

Good. See you tonight, love.

Taglist: @deadlyaffairs, @strrwberries, @le-papillon-chatoyant, @smexylemony, @carolborges890, @ineedsomemoremetime, @loxbbg, @mac-demarco1, @howdycharlie, @rebekahs-worlds-blog, @parkersvinyl, @ballerinaphan, @lovesdeath, @tom-hollands-eyelash, @supercool-holland, @tomspideyweb, @literallygooutofmyfreakingmind, @corteousdolan, @iwillalwaysbevictorious, @simplechicwithacrazedheart, @allofthebitters, @julliene0806, @kittyisabel, @aliceinwhateverland, @tomshollanddarling, @emmyfignewton, @hollandfangirl, @tommyswolves, @saintlystark, @imthwipped, and @kristyesteven

#tom holland #tom holland x reader #tom holland smut #tom holland fanfiction #marvel smut #marvel x reader

101 notes · View notes

fernwehbookworm · 5 years

Text

Knight of Kandor- Chapter 20

(Alex)

The tunnel was cramped and damp as we squeeze through it. Everything was going to plan and that made me extremely nervous. I just hoped that Kara could get Lena out safely. One lady was not worth all of this but it was worth it to Lena and in turn, Kara. So that meant I had to try. Soft light filters down from above me, flickering from a torch. This was it. I remove the drain cover as quietly as possible, praying that the guards were asleep. I poke my head up and see rows of cells, most are empty. As the women follow me through I begin to search. Some cells hold men. Only one holds a sleeping woman. Rao, I hope she's just sleeping. She looks thin and sickly in the faint torchlight. I slip my lock pick kit from my belt and work as fast as I can. The woman stirs from the soft jangling of the bars.

"Wha... Who are you?" She asks in a hoarse voice. It sounds like she hasn't had water in days.

"A friend of Kara's" the girl still looks confused.

"Shit umm... Kal's. A friend of Sir Kal's and Queen Lena." I say, struggling to recall Kara's old name.

"My lady? Is she safe? Don't save me, save her." She pushes further back into the cell.

"Kal is saving her. You will see her shortly. Then we will get you both back to Krypton where you belong." I say exhaling as the lock clicks open and the bars swing out.

"Now we have to go. The guards are asleep. It will be tight but we will keep you safe." I hold my hand to the girl still huddled in the corner. She takes in the hooded women around me, ten of us in all, before accepting my hand.

Just as I am helping her through the opening, the door at the end of the hall bursts open. Men in armor and swords flood in. My women draw their daggers. In close quarters like this, swords will be a huge disadvantage. Jessica stumbles into my arms. One of the men steps forward, out of formation.

"Jessica! Let her go!" He commands in a slightly comical way.

"No. She's coming with us. She is done being your prisoner." Lily says.

"Donovan?" Comes a soft whisper next to me.

"Do you know these men?" I ask.

"Yes, they... are... Kal's men." she manages in a voice like rocks scraping over each other.

"Stand down," I say, immediately they all sheath their daggers and the men are left looking uncertain.

Bells begin to echo through the castle, it sounds distant this deep in the castle but I recognize the warning bells. I groan at the meaning. Our stealth operation was blown.

"You idiots ruined everything."

"We came for our Queen and we intend to find her." Says a burly dark skinned man. He looks very intimidating. Something tickles at the edge of my mind, something Kara had told me.

"John, right?" The man looks taken aback.

"Let's skip the dramatics. Kal is one of us. She is saving the queen now. If you will follow us we will get you out of here safely." I cut off his question.

"Not without our Queen."

"For Rao's sake. Okay, ladies. Take Lady Jessica here to the base, I'll lead these men to their Queen. Hopefully, we can catch them before they escape into the tunnels."

"You aren't taking Jessica from me." The first man states. There it is, stupid love. Men were stupid when it came to love. I roll my eyes.

"You can follow them then. Thea, please take over. Quickly now, I'll shut the grate behind."

The man passes right through my assassins and takes Jessica from me. One by one my women hope back down into the tunnels, Jessica is slowly lowered in and the man is last. I slid the grate back over.

"Okay, we have to hurry. The drugs on the guards are going to wear off soon." John motions me forward with his still drawn sword. I sigh and lead the way.

The guards are still asleep, thankfully. As we hurry I have a whispered conversation about how they got in. A minor explosion and fire to draw guards away. They killed a few who lingered at their posts. Someone must have found a body and sounded the alarm. I use my knowledge of the castle to lead us through deserted servants corridors and to the other side of the castle as quickly as possible. When we emerge it takes a second to orient where the water drain entrance is in relativity to Lena's tower. Something sharp pokes my back. I turn to glare at John.

"Hey watch where you point that thing. You won't find them if I am dead." I continue around the corner.

"No offense, but I don't trust you," John says. This is it. The last stretch before Kara's escape. We either beat them or we're far too late. A figure steps out in front of me.

"John..." I hear Kara whisper from a distance.

"Kal..." he whispers back.

(Kara)

Sure enough, the next day wanted posters for Alex and Kara Danvers were hanging everywhere. All traffic in and out of the city was stopped, guards were searching everywhere for the kidnappers of Lady Elena Colby. Alex and I had to stay inside while Maggie and Sara did some scouting around to find all this out. We opted to practice in the training room to fight off the boredom of being confined. Lena sat in the corner and read, glancing up now and then to watch. We were practicing with dull versions of a new blade Felicity had come up with. It strapped to the forearm and extended out with the flick of a wrist. It was genius but also hard to get the feel of. One wrong move and the blade would appear accidental. I danced out of Alex's reach, only to stumble into a wall. A wall that laughed. I turn to find John right behind me.

"Hello, John."

"Hello, Kara."

"Actually it's Sir John now. Use the title, he loves it." Lena teases from the corner. John rolls his eyes, clearly not loving the title.

"My lady, please. We have been over this."

"Yes, we have, Sir John," Lena stresses the word. He sighs.

"Lena doesn't like titles either." He says to me.

"Oh, I know, she believes they are quite cumbersome. She did the same to me. Wait should I be worried? I thought that was you flirting with me." I turn to ask her and she laughs.

"Oh, it was with you. But John would use it so much it was exhausting. I had to put an end to it. Not that he really listened." Lena continues with her book, ignoring the room again.

"So this is what you have been doing in Cadmium, rescuing damsels and fighting like nothing I have ever seen."

"Not just that. But we don't have to get into the specifics now. John, this is my sister Alex Danvers, Alex this is my former squire and successor, John Jones." I say, making formal introductions with the two vastly different parts of my life.

"Sister?" John asks but still reaches out a hand to shake Alex's hand.

"By choice, not birth." she clarifies for him.

"What are you two doing exactly? I've never seen this fighting style."

"It's a DEO style. I've been teaching Kara since she arrived here. Now we are evenly matched."

"Ah, the teacher became the student." John rubs his chin, amused at the thought.

"Just briefly. I can still teach you a thing or two."

"Challenge accepted." He disappears. I look at Alex.

"Where did he go?" She asks.

"To get his sword." We wait until deep voices echo through the hall outside. John returns with the entire Guard, minus Donovan who was still by Jessica's bedside. Sure enough, John had his sword. He had also slipped on his chainmail shirt and a shield on his left arm.

"You want an audience for this?" I raise an eyebrow at him.

"They asked. They miss training with you." I shrug and drop into a crouch.

"No weapons?"

"Don't worry about me. I'm ready. Are you?" John draws his sword in response.

We circle each other, testing the newness of each other's familiar fighting. My entire style had changed and John had a new sense of confidence. No one had beaten him in a while. That would be his downfall. He was too confident in his own skills to anticipate mine. His first strike is quick and he pulls it, just watching my reaction. Good. He strikes again with a little more force and I sidestep it. Back and forth we begin, like a dance. His sword flashes while I turn and spin and step to avoid it. It's a delicate task as he begins using more brute force than before. I step in front of his shield, he lunges out to hit me with it but I roll around. As my turn puts me behind him, I extend my wrist, the dulled blade makes a soft snick as it extends. I slide it easily between links of chainmail like it was designed to do, resting it between the shirt and John's side. He tenses immediately at the cold steel on his skin.

"If this was a sharp blade, you would be dead," I say evenly. I think John stops breathing because he exhales heavily as I remove the blade.

"That...was...awesome!" Says one of the men that now stand behind me. I think it may have been Andrew.

"Guess I have more training to do." Says John as he turns to me, a grin on his face as sweat pours down his forehead from the exertion.

"Only if you plan on fighting us. But we are on your side so I wouldn't worry too much." I say. Some of the excitement drains out of his face.

"What is it?"

"Nothing. I umm... we were just hoping to spar with you again."

"Lee, are you okay spending some more time here?" Lena waved me off without looking up.

"I'll take that as a yes. Alex, do you want to join?"

"And miss showing up a bunch of men?" She teases.

"And I'll take that as a yes also."

Later, after several hours of sparring, when I was getting a snack in the kitchen, John walked in too. He looked happy at first but a hint of sadness crossed his features again.

"All right, whats wrong? I know you, John, that's the same look you had before." He picks up an apple and examines it much more closely than necessary.

"It's nothing Kal, sorry, Kara. Really. I'm just happy to see you again. I really thought one of us would die before that happened."

"John," I say, staring him down like I used to when he didn't do his chores or rub down his horse at the end of a long march. He makes the mistake of looking up, or down at this rate since he seemed to continue to grow. He flinches and hunches his shoulders.

"You... earlier, you said that 'we are on your side.' Like you aren't apart of the Queen's guard anymore. Like we aren't a family anymore. And I... I realized that this is where you belong. These women are so much like you. This is your family." John goes back to staring at his apple. He is still just a kid, a kid with way too much responsibility.

"John, you are my family too. And the other men. And Winn. You all are. And I have missed you so much." I place a hand on one of his shoulders, his eyes snap to mine, I had never touched him like this before, not with such a serious conversation.

"I belong with Lena. Wherever she is. I will follow her. The DEO knows that too, they knew it the moment I found her here. But I have been with these women a long time now so I do think in the terms of 'we.' I am sorry if you thought you didn't matter, or that I replaced you. John, I love you. You were the first to trust Kara and believe in her, even if I didn't know it." John wraps me in a hug so tight he pulls me off the ground.

"I love you too. And I love who you have become. Kal wouldn't have said all that to me." I laugh through the tears forming in my eyes.

"Kal thought it though. It just took Kara to say it. Are you done being all sad and moppy now? I have a beautiful woman waiting for me to bring her an orange."

"Yeah. I am glad you found each other. Lena had me worried for a few months. She hardly left her room. Honestly, she wasn't even this happy with Kal." I smile so wide it hurts.

"Me too. She was the only thing that kept me alive sometimes."

It takes four days of rest and food for Lady Jessica to recover. Donavon rarely leaves her side. They made a cute couple and Lena told me she was already planning on blessing the marriage whenever he worked up the courage to ask Lena for permission. I found the thought of who I would need to ask to marry Lena but quickly shook it off. That was a whole other bridge to cross if we were even allowed, if she even wanted to. No, for now, I had to focus on getting Lena back home and safe.

"Halt!" calls the guard, unnecessarily.

Traffic leaving the city had been crawling at a snail's pace all day. I squeeze Lena's hand in the darkness of the hidden compartment. It was tight, barely enough room to breath between the floorboard and false bottom hatch. Maggie was driving with Sara. Thea and Vasquez were driving a cart several back with Lady Jessica and Alex in its false bottom. The Queen's guard were disguised as mercenaries hired to protect the caravan we had joined. I feel Lena tense as the contents of the cart are shifted above us. I hold my breath and wait. It's over in moments but it feels like an eternity. A jerk and the cart is moving forward again to join the rest of the caravan that has already been searched and is sitting outside the gate.

Its well into the trip that Sara lets us out of the bottom, my whole body feels like a giant cramp. The only positive was that we were out of Daxam and Lena's hand was in mine the entire time. We settle into the back of the cart, we lean against the covered side, Lena's head on my shoulder. I can see Thea's cart behind us. They had caught up since the gates. In the next major city, we would take our two carts and our 'hired muscle' and head west before heading north while the others went east.

When darkness arrives, all ten carts are circled and fires are lit. Our 'mercenaries' aren't the only ones. They meet and set up a rotation schedule so not all of them have to be on watch at once. We build a fire near our own carts like some others, away from the communal fire in the center. We talk softly and share food. Being outside was much needed after being inside for nearly a week.

"Yup, so when enlistments went out, I was taken because my father had lost most of his fingers on his sword hand. That day was the last day I saw my parents. And well, I think my most notable career points have been spoken about at length." I finish explaining my life to everyone. The women knew most of it at this point, but the men were still in the dark.

"Well Kara, I know you have been through a lot, but I am sure glad I was able to serve you." Says John, causing me to blush, only hidden by the firelight and the wine we were sharing.

Before long we settle into bedrolls. Lena pressed to my front to fight off the cold night air. Alex and Maggie settle into another while Sara, Vasquez, and Thea fall in a row to fight off the chill. Other men lay scattered as they sleep until their watch.

"Kara?"

"Yeah Lee?" I whisper back softly.

"We could just leave. Disappear. Together."

"What?"

"I've just been thinking how hard it's going to be. And I love you but I don't even know if we can get married or if the people will hate me for it or..."

"Shhh... Lena, you know you would never be happy hiding. You belong on the throne, it's in your soul. Secondly, I love you, I will be by your side no matter what, even if... even if you must marry another."

"No."

"No?"

"I won't marry anyone else. My brother and his children can take the throne then." I kiss the back of her head.

"We can figure all that out later, for now, We get you back to Kandor.

We all breathe a little easier three days later when we separate from the others. We push faster than we should but none of us want to stay in Cadmium longer than necessary. The men pair off to scout ahead through the woods. When reports of patrols come back, we hid much like when we were leaving Daxam. It becomes much more frequent, the more north we travel. We soon have to rely on the fake papers that felicity provided to get us past roadblocks. Thea was a seamstress and her assistants traveling north to join citizens willing to settle in an outpost being established as Krypton focused on the eastern front. We were in the hiding place when a patrol near the borders calls for us to stop.

"Here are our papers, sir." Says Maggie. Silence follows as he examines.

"Follow me." the man orders.

"I'm sorry sir, is something wrong?"

"Yes, you aren't doing as you are told." Threat clear in the man's voice. Lena squeezes my hand hard.

"Yes, sir." The cart jerks into movement after another moment and I feel it turn off the main road.

When the cart stops I hear a drone of conversation, too far away to hear. Then protests from the women driving the carts as things start to be shuffled above us. They are cut off quickly and I feel the cart rock as things are unloaded from the top. I pull a knife from my belt and press it into Lena's hand.

"Be ready," I whisper. My muscles tense in preparation for a fight.

Suddenly daylight pours in as the hatch is lifted, I spring at whoever opens it. We fall backward, off the cart and onto the ground. The man's back hits and I hear all the air rush out of him. The blade of my gauntlet is out and just under his chin. I look into the eyes of the first man I will kill here. Then I stop. I know those eyes.

"Prince Alexander," I say, shocked.

"Kal?" He asks, unsure. I nod. Still stunned. We shouldn't have reached them for at least two more days. I retract the blade and slowly stand up to look around. We are in a camp filled with soldiers in Cadmium uniforms but I recognize a few faces here and there as ones I used to help lead.

"Lex?" Lena asks from the back of the cart where a soldier helps her out of the shallow compartment.

"Lee!" He calls and stands up, lifting his sister out of the back and embracing her.

"My Rao, I thought I lost you. I will kill every last one of the men who took you." He holds on to her, running a hand down her hair and she squeezes him back. I look around to see Alex and Jessica emerging from the other cart. They join the other three women in a loose defensive circle, it looks casual enough but I can see they are all on edge. John stays near them to try and be a comfort.

"Lex, mother did this. She planned it all. Queen Rhea told me. Mother wants you on the throne, not me." Lena says softly.

"What?" Lex looks back to look at his little sister.

"She was going to use me to marry the Prince of Cadmium so there would be peace and you could rule Krypton."

"But I despise court. I don't want to rule, why would she think I would want that?"

"I don't know Lex. But she won't stop until she's rid of me. You know she never wanted me." Prince Alexander looks around and realized how many people could be listening.

"Let's talk in my tent." He pulls Lena by the hand towards the biggest tent. She catches mine and tugs me after.

"I'll be right there," I whisper. Then I motion for John and Alex.

"John, have the men Guard the tent, no one in hearing distance. Alex, you guys scout the camp and reload the carts. I want to get out of Cadmium as soon as we are done talking to the prince. I am not waiting around to be discovered here." They both nod seriously and I walk to the tent.

Lena is already telling Alexander what she knows from her side of the story, He gives me a soft nod of acknowledgment. When Lena is done I begin telling him everything I know, starting with my kidnapping at the border. I leave out most my time with the DEO, only giving enough information to provide an excuse for serving in the castle and then finding Lena. The daring rescue and slow escape. After all is said, the prince sits back in the chair, absorbing all the new information.

"I can't kill my mother." Is the first thing he says. I look at Lena and she nods.

"I can, and I will." I say, letting the 'with or without you' go unspoken.

"Then we need to get back to Kandor. But we can't have a battle in the city walls. We need to find a way in with no bloodshed. If I return now, mother will know something is wrong." I think silently for a moment.

"I might have a way. But I will need to talk to someone inside the walls first."

"Then let's get our future queen to Kandor. We leave in two hours."

#supergirl #supercorp #kara danvers #lena luthor #medieval #knight #au #assassin #KoK

3 notes · View notes

topweeklyupdate · 6 years

Text

TØP Weekly Update #57: Thanks, Jay Z (8/9/2018)

Turns out last week was a pretty good one to take off. Very little of major note happened in the Twenty One Pilots sphere while I vacationed in the Canadian wilderness. This week, however... that’s a whole other story.

New music. New music video. New track list. New merch. Let’s get into it.

This Week’s TØPics:

“Levitate” and Trench Track List Leak, and Then...

“Levitate” Video and Trench Track List Released

“Jumpsuit” Drops Off the Hot 100 (But Still Gains At Radio...)

Mark Goes Off

AND MORE

Major News and Announcements:

On Tuesday, the streaming service Tidal briefly posted the third promotional track for Trench before realizing their mistake and taking it down. This still provided the Clique with plenty of time to record and post it in so many places across the Interwebs that Warner Music Group’s copyright bots couldn’t hope to catch up. The likelihood that Tyler and Josh leaked it themselves is honestly pretty low extremely high.

The track, entitled “Levitate”, is the most unmistakable hip-hop track in the band’s discography thus far. Running at a tight 2:20, Tyler delivers some truly impressive bars in what is essentially a single extended verse, constantly mixing up his flow against a slick trap drum beat and the eerie synth that was hinted at in the end of “Jumpsuit” (if the entire album flows from song to song like this... automatic 10/10).

Lyrically, “Levitate” sees Tyler discussing the role of songwriting in his life, a form of expression that allows him to “fire-breathe” and “levitate” beyond his problems. The song is littered with gems (“we are not just graffiti on a passing train”) and jabs against the music industry for trying to rein him in or make him into something he’s not (“this culture is a poacher of overexposure, don’t feed me to the vultures”, “you’re the worst; your structure compensates, but compensation feels a lot like rising up to dominate”). The reference to Tyler getting back “what I once bought back in that slot, I won’t need to replace” is perfect, and I’m still emotional about it.

I do have a few minor quibbles with the song. I think the looped instrumental is a little too minimalistic to justify the length of the outro. “At least they all know what they hear comes from a place” and “you can levitate with just a little help” lack specificity and fall a little flat for me. And I’ve expressed before that I’m not overly interested in songs about the music industry that aren’t directly applicable to most people’s experience (sorry, "Fairly Local” and “Lane Boy”).

All that said, the production and presentation is so slick. Plus, Tyler grounds the song in enough personal experience and relatable struggles that it succeeds in crossing over that gap of fame and success to actually hit home. Lines like “danger in the fabric of this thing I made,” “I thought I could depend on my weekends on the freezing ground,” and “don’t feed me to the vultures, I am a vulture who feeds on pain” show the same vulnerability and self-aware introspection that attracted me to the band in the first place.

“Levitate” wasn’t all we got from the leak. An updated version without the yellow duct tape over the track list was included as the background, revealing the names of the other eleven songs that we’ll hear sometime between now and October 5th. The track list is as follows:

Didn’t think that I’d struggle with a song title more than “Bandito”, but “Pet Cheetah” and “The Hype” are really gonna have to go the extra mile in ways that no other song from the band has before to justify those artistic choices. (That said, “Neon Gravestones” sounds rad as hell.) We’ll save picking apart the meaning for all of these titles for a later date; we’ve still got another two months before the album is out, and I don’t think we’ll be getting any new songs or videos until late September at the earliest, so we’ve got time.

ln the wake of the leak (much like with “Heathens” two years ago), the song and video for “Levitate” were pushed out the following day, two days earlier than originally planned if the date on Tidal is anything to go buy. The third installment in this Trench trilogy features Tyler and Josh performing the track at the Bandito camp while vultures fly around looking cool. At the video’s conclusion, Tyler is snatched away from a campfire by a bishop and dragged without a struggle back to Dema. One Bandito looks frightened by this, but another just ominously states “Welcome to Trench”.

I must confess that this music video didn’t fully do it for me. While the production value remains stellar, the “Car Radio” call-back with shaving Tyler’s head is great, and I love any opportunity to see the boys perform together, “Levitate” as a song is frankly too short and moves at a too breakneck pace to make a truly compelling video out of the song alone. I’m honestly shocked that there wasn’t a longer extended scene attached to the end of the video to provide a stronger narrative conclusion to the pieces laid in the last two videos, especially considering that “Jumpsuit” opened with such a scene. As it is, the video moves by so quickly and shares so many aesthetic qualities with its two predecessors that it didn’t leave much of an impression on me.

There is, however, one (potentially unintentional) aspect of the “Levitate” video that really resonated with me. Tyler enjoying himself while performing and being with people only to be yanked out of the group once the energy dies down a little is a perfect representation of anxiety and depression, which so often sets in without warning in circumstances where one would think are supposed to feel happy and safe. The fact that this story ends on such a down note reads as an honest reflection on the nature of mental illness, even if it is perhaps narratively unsatisfying. Besides, I highly doubt this will be our last exploration of the Trench universe; we’ll just have to see where else Tyler and Josh take us when the album drops.

With the initial wave of promo singles out of the way, the marketing team has moved ahead with the business of actually selling the album. Trench is now available for pre-order on iTunes. The Twenty One Pilots webstore is now full of various bundle packages for pre-order that include t-shirts, hoodies, a dope bandana, a 10′’ vinyl EP with the three promo tracks, CD and cassette versions of the full album and (if you order before the end of the month) a neat little patch, all at pretty reasonable prices.

Other News and Shenanigans:

There isn’t too awful much to report outside of the mountain of major developments (thank God). Andrew Donoho posted some dope behind the scenes pics starring Clifford the Vulture. Josh is still occasionally tweeting and posting pictures of hanging out with Debby, his brother, and other cool people. Tyler is still quiet as ever, and I’m not sure why that shocks people. It bears repeating that he was rarely on social media pre-hiatus, that this is probably going to be a regular thing, and that stepping back from social media is honestly one of the better decisions one can make for your mental health and overall leisure time.

The only really notable thing that I missed during my vacation was Mark clarifying on Twitter that the Trench music videos have all been in chronological order and that he’s been happy to be giving Andrew Donoho creative control over how the videos have developed. With how cryptic things have been surrounding this album’s release, it’s refreshing to have a voice of reason to tell it like it is. Thanks Mark.

Chart Performance:

While the new song has been at the forefront of everyone’s mind, its predecessors have still been putting in work... but perhaps not as much as might have been expected based on the last album cycle’s success.

In spite of the release of the new music video two weeks back, “Nico and the Niners” slipped off the Hot 100 after its first week and has declined in all metrics. This week, “Jumpsuit” also fell off the Hot 100 and has also been steadily sinking in sales and streaming. There are plenty of reasonable explanations for this: the too-heavy-for-Top-40 rock sound, the constant stream of other TØP content drawing focus away from any one song, the lack of promotional appearances from the band itself on TV and radio.

Many hopeful fans have pointed to the performance of “Stressed Out” as a hopeful sign that “Jumpsuit” may mount a future comeback, but I have my doubts about that comparison. 2015 was a very different time for the band- “Stressed Out”, like “Fairly Local” and “Tear In My Heart”, debuted on the Hot 100 because the Clique was as ravenous then as it is now, but the band still had next-to-no mainstream recognition. Those songs thus debuted low and fell off pretty quickly. It wasn’t until months later that the Clique’s grassroots support and the band’s rising esteem within the industry resulted in “Stressed Out” getting picked up at radio and being shared with new audiences, creating a snowball of promotion that launched Twenty One Pilots into the popular consciousness. When “Heathens” was released, the band’s profile was big enough to ensure it debuted at #14 and remained in the Top 40 for months. Compared to that performance, “Jumpsuit” is flopping commercially, no question.

However, there is still a glimmer of hope for the song’s future. While it is falling off pretty hard in most categories, it is still gaining spins at radio. It took #1 on the Rock Airplay chart for this last week. That means that more casual music listeners are hearing it than ever, which could make for another snowball where these listeners go back and search for the song themselves in the weeks to come. We will have to wait and see how the band and Fueled By Ramen decide to market the song and promote the album as it gets closer to its release date.

One thing is for sure: the band is not in any financial trouble. Even if “Jumpsuit” never returns to the Hot 100, even if “Levitate” is rejected by both lovers and haters of hip-hop and fails to chart, even if Trench somehow fails to match the Week 1 chart-topping sales of Blurryface even after the band picked up millions of new fans over the last three years, two things remain true: Blurryface made them more money than any individual will ever reasonably need, and they’ve already sold tens of thousands of tickets for their next tour. The days of worrying about this band are over for the foreseeable future; for now, we can just enjoy the music.

Power to the local dreamer.

|-/

#twenty one pilots #tyler joseph #josh dun #trench #levitate #jumpsuit #nico and the niners #top weekly update

15 notes · View notes

softboywriting · 7 years

Text

Sugar, I’m Goin’ Down// Bad Boy Shawn // Chapter Four

Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three

TW:implied violent actions

Chapter Three Recap:

“They dared me to do it. I couldn’t just say no. Do you know what they’d say if they found out I actually like you?”

“Oh, and what’s wrong with me?!” You throw your pen down on the table and it bounces off to hit him in the chest. “Am I not pretty enough?! Am I too fat?! Is it because I care about getting an education and you’re just here to waste grant money?!” you close your laptop and start shoving your things into your bag. “You’re caught up in your bullshit fucking bad boy persona and you only care about your garbage friends liking you.” You swing your bag over your shoulder and turn to leave. You pick up the coffee and throw it at him. It pops open as it hits him and he just sits there with warm liquid soaking his shirt and jacket.

Shawn is left sitting there in silence as you walk out to go finish your assignment at home. He didn’t even try to fight back which surprised you and you can only hope your words got through to him.

Waking up sweaty and wet every morning is getting old. It seems that every night you dream of Shawn. It was sad how you couldn’t just get over how he touched you. His hands felt so good, his mouth even better. You slide your hand down your pants and begin rubbing yourself slowly. The thought of his mouth against you, tongue flicking your clit, two fingers curling inside of you as he works you closer to an orgasm. You lift your butt up, bracing your feet on the bed and press two fingers inside yourself, eyes shut tight, imagining Shawn there with you.

Half an hour after you finish, you remember why you hate Shawn. You feel guilty for pleasuring yourself to the thought of him. He was an asshole. You did NOT like him. You had to remind yourself constantly, he had made you come and feel so good, but he could never do it again.

You open your window for some fresh air while you get ready for class and there’s a note tucked under the trim against the glass. You grab it and open it up.

Need to talk - SM

You ball it up and toss it in the trash bin under your bedside table. You weren’t ready to talk to him yet.

You head to class and Shawn is there before you. Shocker. He hadn’t been to class in two weeks now. You sit down at your lab station and he just looks at you, waiting for you to talk first. You don’t of course. You manage to not talk to him throughout the entire assignment and he looks irritated.

“You sure had plenty of things to say the other day,” he mumbles as he takes notes. Yes, he was actually taking notes and not fucking around with the tools on the table or using his phone. It was a little shocking to see him doing work. “Can we talk after class?”

You eye him warily. Something was up. He was too fishy with this ‘doing work’ business. “I don’t have anything to say to you,” you retort as you hold up a jar to identify its contents and take notes.

“I’ll talk then.”

“I don’t really want to hear you talk.”

Shawn snaps the pencil in his hand and breathes out hard through his nose. He was annoyed with you and you loved it. Giving him a taste of his own medicine was what he deserved. Two could play at the ‘being an asshole’ game.

___________________________________________

Shawn starts making a habit of visiting the library when you happen to be there. You’re not sure if he knows that you know he is there. He tries to be discreet but seeing as how he never did anything in the library before besides hang out with his friends, it was obvious he was watching you. After the fourth time you see him sitting at a table just within eyesight of yours, his feet propped up, book open in his hands, you’re annoyed. You close your laptop and head for his table. You snatch the book out of his hands and glare at him.

“Can I help you?” he asks with the slyest smirk on his face. He knew you knew. Fucker was just waiting for you to come do something about it. “Don’t you know it’s rude to take a book out of someone’s hands?”

“Don’t you know it’s rude to stalk people?”

“Someone’s stalking you?” he sits up and looks around for another person. “I didn’t see anyone else around.”

“Shawn...I don’t have time for your games. Why are you watching me?”

Shawn laughs and takes the book away from you. “I was reading. Can’t I read in a library?”

You glare at him. You wish you could actually stab him in his stupid smiling face. “I’m not even sure you can read.”

“Ouch,” he says dejectedly, holding his hand over his heart. “Really slayed me.”

You roll you eyes and start to walk away, tired of his shit. He grabs your arm and pulls you back, you jerk away and punch him gently in the chest. “Don’t touch me,” you hiss but he doesn’t back away. You should have punched harder.

He rubs the center of his chest where you punched him. “I’m here because of my friends.”

“Excuse me?” Was he seriously doing some little stunt for his shit friend’s acceptance right now. You ball your fists, nails digging into your palms. “Shawn, you must have a death wish because I’m going to fucki-”

“They know I like you. They know you’re distracting me and making me ‘weak’. I heard Andrew and Tom talking about how they want to ‘remove the problem’.” Shawn’s shaking, his hands balled into fists like yours. He runs a hand through his hair and tugs, stressed about the situation. “I bailed on them while we were tagging a mini-mart in town because I wanted to try and talk to you. I stopped by your place but you weren’t home.” He sighs and sits down on the edge of the table. “Greg got arrested and Tom almost got picked up too. I was supposed to be their look out.”

You cross your arms and swallow thickly. So his friends wanted to do what to you? What the hell did ‘take care of the problem’ even mean? Kill you? That seemed pretty extreme. Either way it was unnerving. “They don’t seem like very good friends if they make you feel like shit and threaten anyone you like. How the hell are you supposed to ever have a girlfriend?”

Shawn laughs and runs his hand through his hair. “Exactly. I don’t know what to do, I mean, they’re my friends. I’ve known Andrew since I was sixteen.”

“And yet you let him bully you like this,” you turn and walk away. If Shawn wanted pity for having garbage friends, he wasn’t going to get it from you and you had to walk away because you felt yourself starting to pity him. His friends would have to get over themselves because if they wanted to come after you because Shawn had some feelings, well then they had a big storm coming. You get to your table and pack away your laptop and books. You grab your pink taser from the bottom of your bag and head for the doors.

#Shawn Mendes Imagine #shawn mendes fic #shawn mendes writing #shawn mendes fluff #shawn mendes smut #my fic #sigd

826 notes · View notes