#and also pull the punch/make it seem like hes no longer invested by saying he doesnt wanna talk about it | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

idjitlili · 3 years

Text

Lurking in the dark.

Not my gif.

Summary: Jareth uses a disguise to lurk around you before the Labyrinth like he did with Sarah, as an owl. Until you accidentally wish away your dog.

Warnings:mentions of tight pants. Mentions of feeling lonely.First smut...you’ve been warned, well just oral, and a handjob.

Word count:4325

A/n: low-key based in my home country, ah yes England.

Y/d/n=your dogs name, or change it to cat or fake pet.

Though you weren't 16, like Sarah, being an adult, Jareth felt pulled to you. No, he was not a pervert, times were different. Maybe it was your love of your dog, maybe it's how lonesome you felt, that dog unknowingly brought hope into your life. Yes you did love your family, but sometimes you just got lonely.

Maybe it was your love of films, you could watch your favourite film a million times, yet feel so invested into watching it again. Maybe it was your stack of books, some you already had ,which were your favourite,but had gotten pocket editions or ones with different covers.

How Jareth had found you, well that was a different question, not him dressing down , changing his hair to place the labyrinth in difference book stores , illegally. Yes, that was how he had found you,when he had done that. Soon he had figured out, you regularly went to the book store, after following you home in his owl form.

This particular day had been most stressful, though the rain was calming, being drenched to the point your underwear were soaked, not like that. Frozen, you just wanted to get to Waterstones before they shut, practically running. Not only wanting to get there but also get home quick too.

Rushing into the store , the door closing behind you, the warm air embracing your freezing body, you just hoped you wouldn't get in trouble for being soaked in here. It wasn't like you were going to wipe your clothes on all the books , ruining them.

Then, of course more problems occurred; you could not for the life of you find a book you desired. Sighing , you pushed your dripping hair from your face, you could only imagine how bad you looked in that moment.

Yet, you had continued your search, with no luck until a man had cleared his throat from next to you.

His hair clearly blond from his roots, the rest a light red colour almost ginger but not. His eyes bright blue, yet it seemed like he had heterochromia, aswell as larger pupil in his left eye. His cheekbones highly defined, his body skinny, overall the man was very handsome.

Turning to face the man, highly embarrassed by your state. "If you don't mind-" this is when you thought you was going to be asked to leave, your stomach dropped. "-hearing my suggestion." Okay, that still found like he was going to ask you to leave, but his voice wasn't aggressive. "...okay?" You weren't sure what to say, only letting out a quiet word.

The man had reached up to the shelf above you , pulling down a small red book, so he wasn't kicking you out. His pale hand gently holding the book in front of you, 'The labyrinth.' You had taken the book from him, to look for a summary , yet there wasn't one, nor a publisher or an author name.

"You take that home,on me, if you don't like bring it back."

"W-wait, you d-" You didn't know this man, you felt guilty getting it for nothing, but he had interrupted you. "You've had a long day,clearly, now go get home,y/n" The man simply placed his hands on his hips waiting, his words followed out like water, turning to go do whatever he was doing.

"W-wait." He had spun around , his eyes looked at you in slight annoyance, hurrying you up. "What's your name?"

"Ziggy." You had looked at you watch at the same time, before looking back at the man- but he was gone. Thus, you left. Hold on , how did he know your name?

Not spotting the owl, that stood on the lamp post watching you...

You had begun reading the book , as soon as you had gotten out of your soaking clothes , into warm ones. You wondered how Jareth could like a girl with no sense, no you didn't , you thought why she wearing her baby brother hat.

Yet, your dog would not allow you to sit in peace, shoving their toy under the cupboard making you get up and get it otherwise they wouldn't stop crying, or eating all their food and scratching for more. Then, they had knocked your drink everywhere with their toy.

Groaning in annoyance , for the hundredth time. "You know if the Goblin king was real, y/d/n, I'd wish for him to take you for a time out." Of course you handed read that far you didn't know what would really happen to him..

"You know what, I'll just say it, just in case. I wish the goblins would take you away, right now." A crack of thunder had made you jump out of your skin turning towards it , before turning back hearing scratching on the floor, to see nothing, by this time it's pitch black, only light from a small lamp is seen , your dog is gone.

Suddenly the door crashes open, an owl flies in , before turning into a man. Not that you could see him much. "Uhm, I mean thanks for taking my dog for a time out , but uh thats dognapping, so.." He had only laughed loudly.

From what you you could see his hair was a huge blond mullet, there was glitter everywhere, and those pants...

"What's said is said."

"What the bloody hell does that mean?" That wasn't legal, he had broken into your home and stole your dog.

"I have brought you a gift, it's a crystal, nothing more. but if you turn it this way and look into it, it will show you your dreams. but this is not a gift for an ordinary girl who takes care of the dog.....do you want it? then forget the dog." You had scoffed at him, you could go ebay and get a crystal ball, who was this wannabe Gandalf?

"Sorry, no, I would like my dog." The king, looked disappointed with your answer, did he believe that would really work?

"don't defy me." His voice stern , as he threw a snake at you , but completely missed, coughing out a small laugh, as the man pretended it never happened.

"Y-you're no match for me."

"Stop with all the talk, how can I get y/d/n back?" With that , he had gestured you to come to the window, a huge maze could be seen, well labyrinth, instead of the dark sky. Turning back to Jareth, you realised you were no longer in your room, but outside the labyrinth.

"So, how does this work?" You could clearly see the man now, known as Jareth , the Goblin king, his eyes seemed very familiar, left pupil bigger than the right. He had pointed to a 13 hours clock, that had appeared.

"You have 13 hours in which to solve the labyrinth , and reach my castle, before your dog becomes one of us forever, such a pity." And boom he was a gone, not much to work from.

Now finding away into the labyrinth, indeed that seemed easy, of course it wasn't, no entrances , you thought of the only thing you could do... Climb the wall. By the time you had gotten over , there stood Jareth in the tight pants.

"You know, there was a door. This shall be your only warning." Poof he was gone again, if you continued climbing walls maybe you'd have to compliment his pants. Next time put a bloody door.

Though you had no idea what in gods earth you was doing, you just decided to head straight forward as you could, thus to get to the castle quicker. Not going one away and ending going through the side door out of the labyrinth.

As you could expect, Jareth was not very happy that you were travelling through his labyrinth, like it was your house. In fact, he was angered, so much , that he wanted to pick you up, as if you were a rag doll and dump you to the start. Then again, you’d just go twice as fast through.

So, there sat Jareth on his throne, with your dog upon his lap, his little whip thing in hand. Suit up Jareth, your not Indiana Jones. Staring into the crystal ball, unable to think.

The fact you had gotten passed the sausage dogs without a second thought pushed Jareth over the edge... He had attempted to jump scare you, but of course it had went south. Jareth rarely had anyone not beat the Labyrinth, and honestly you’d think he would’ve improved it.

Jareth hadn’t spoken in your presence, to inform you that he was there, instead he had placed a hand onto your shoulder. What he was not expecting was you to turn around at sonic speed, punching him square in the face.

Stumbling back, him his boots, holding his now bloody nose, he had let out a yelp in surprise. He did not expect that, not at all.

You had reached some sort of lake, with a path down to a small house, when you had punched Jareth anyways.

After you had seen that it was Jareth that you had punched, who else would it be, guilty travelled up your body suffocating you. Almost instantly you had rushed to Jareth, ripping part of the end of your t-shirt, bringing the fabric to his nose. Pulling his bloody hand from his nose, with a harsh grip, since he lead stiff.

Your face was sweating, not only were you scared that he might kill you, but also you had felt bad for him, after the numerous times he had checked up on you. You wondered if he ever spoke to anyone other than the Goblins, you wondered if he could even leave this place without being wished.

Gripping his sharp jaw to move his face, allowing you to make get a better look at the bleeding, keeping the fabric to his nose, soaking all the blood up. You didn’t even know Faes bled.

“J-Jareth, I’m so sorry! You made me jump, I swear I didn’t do it on purp-“ Jareth liked the contact, the anger he felt before had slipped away, your soft fingers upon his skin, your favourite t-shirt now ruined as you had sacrificed it for his nose. Oh, and he knew that was your favourite shirt.

Your pleading e/c eyes staring into his mismatched ones, made both of your hearts beat fast than moments before. It almost made him forget why you were here; but when he did remember his eyes returned harsh. You only felt bad because you were frightened, he knew you’d leave him soon as you had beaten his labyrinth.

Oh how wrong he was.

Pulling away rudely, using his magic to pull a clock out of no where, using his gloved had to skip it forward three hours, smirking. Fake smirking, the quicker this ends the better, he could not bare to fall in love with a silly human girl again, just to be rejected.

Your eyes widened in confusion, your torn end of your t-shirt still in your hand, bloodied. “W-what?” 6 hours left.

Poof Jareth was gone yet again, oh and how he had some plans for you. Stood in brief shock of what had just occurred, trying to forget the tingles that had erupted down your hand, throughout your whole body, like electric shocks. Shaking it off, like you were about to warm up for pe , just like high school. Ew.

You had continued down the path, to the small house, and within minutes you had reached it. Didn’t seem like there was away around, only way was through.

Thankfully, it was unlocked, allowing you straight in. Only for it to slam close behind you, you didn’t think of anything of it, all you could think about in this moment was how your stomach was growling loudly.

The rag now placed into your back pocket, as you searched the tiny kitchen for anything, coming across an overly large strawberry, you didn’t even think before you had devoured it.

In that moment you heard it the door clicked, you had rushed to it testing it, locked, of course. Your feet now suddenly soaking wet , gulping you had looked down the floor covered in soapy water, rising dangerously. Surely he would not kill you?

All the windows now sealed shut, no upstairs , only the chimney , thankfully wide as. You did the only thing you could, your stomach turning, feeling light headed, the water reaching your knees.

You got in it, but the walls were too slippery so you held your breath just as the water got above your shoulders. Swimming up the chimney with the water, not full breast stroke of course, no room for that. The water pressure building at such a speed you ended up flying out the end of the chimney, no idea how that was even possible.

Then everything went black, soon entering a dream world...well no it wasn’t a dream. Now dressed in gown, at a ball, a masquerade, the room almost packed with guests with goblin like masks., all wearing big expensive gowns, or suite like attire. Loud laughter dimmed out by the loud gently music.. what.

Turning every which way, you felt like you were looking for something, just you could not recall what. A skinny man, with a bo dazzled suite, a long blond mullet with stripes of blue to match his suite, a diamond at his next instead of a tie or bow, frilly shirt. He held a similar goblin mask, only when you caught his eye he had pulled it away.

Only you and him without masks, his eyebrows with no ends, h-his strangely familiar eyes , his thin lips, you felt a strong pull towards him.

“There's such a sad love

Deep in your eyes a kind of pale jewel

Open and closed

Within your eyes

I'll place the sky.”

All you could do is stare at him, as the song began, mouth gapped at him, your dress that before felt heavy no felt like nothing, as he began walking towards you, through the people.

“Within your eyes

There's such a fooled heart

Beatin' so fast”

Trying to get passed the strange people, to get him, he simply danced with other people that already had partners, I mean, like pressed up against the partners.

“In search of new dreams

A love that will last

Within your heart

I'll place the moon

Within your heart

As the pain sweeps through.” He didn’t even try to get to you as you chased after him, these strange people suffocating you, getting in your way on purpose.

“Makes no sense for you

Every thrill is gone.” Then he was gone, your eyes searched the room, not seeing him hidden behind a fan behind you, continued your search. As he smirked behind you, oh how he couldn’t stop feeling the way he did about you, he thought it was funny how now you chased him instead of the other way around.

“Wasn't too much fun at all

But I'll be there for you-ou-ou

As the world falls down.” He had continued making his way through the people, in direct view , as you searched still.

“Falling

As the world falls down

Falling

Falling in love.” Squeezing through the people, feeling panicked, you had no idea what was happening, nor why you felt like this for a strange man, shoving pushed the people that circled you.

“I'll paint you mornings of gold

I'll spin you Valentine evenings though we're strangers 'til now.” You had found him, as a fan moved, he stood sandwiched by two woman.

“We're choosing the path

Between the stars

I'll leave my love

Between the stars” Only then did he come towards you,his face should no emotion, you wondered how you had gotten here. Now with a mans hand out waist and the other in his hand as you danced.

“As the pain sweeps through

Makes no sense for you

Every thrill is gone

Wasn't too much fun at all.” You couldn’t remember knowing how to dance, but you and Jareth done turns in sync with all the other dancers, staring deeply into his mismatched pupils.

“But I'll be there for you-ou-ou

As the world falls down

Falling” Jareth-how did you now know his name, now singing along, wow self loving much , who plays their own music. He had every right. Only then, did you feel yourself leaning to his lips.

“As the world falls down

Falling

As the world falls down.”

Jareth had noticed, leaning towards you as well, you felt your lips connect to his soft ones, as your eyes closed. That’s all it took for your remove your hands from his shoulder and hand bringing them up into his blond hair. Pulling his face towards yours, not allowing yourself to disconnect from him, you both had stopped dance at this point.

His arms now around your waist pulling you both closer together again, one of your hand now cupping his cheek, as you both kissed. Pulling away for a second to breathe, before pressing your lips against his again harshly this time, biting his lip hard, he had almost jumped, letting out a yelp, only then were you able insert your tongue into his mouth.

You both had long forgotten the people that surrounded you both. Jareths grip now tightened, your tongue fighting against his. Only until he had pulled your hair, pulling you from him lips, your eyes slammed shut, your hands now against his clothed chest, as he pressed kisses down your bare neck. A small moan had escaped your mouth, your hand travelling down to his pants. “Can I?” Jareth had looked into your eyes, his other pupil now almost reaching the same size as his other, nodding.

You hand cupping, his manhood, his pulse heightened under your touch, Jareth had groaned loudly, his bulging member against your palm, as Jareths hips had pushed against your hand for friction. Jareth now sucking harshly at your neck, rubbing your hand against him.

You had forgotten about the room full off people;but Jareth had definitely not, he did not want to take you in front of them, at this moment he didn’t care, he had not had pleasure in a very long time. Leaving your neck, Jareth had joined your lips again, biting your already swollen bottom lips, returning to sloppy small kisses, you had wished that Jareth had picked a less poofy dress.

Your hands leaving Jareths body, he had let out a small sigh, he had thought you had remembered, especially when you began to lift the bottom the dress. Only then did you notice the people, wide eye, but they were still dancing, even if they were looking, Jareth touch was intoxicating.

Your calf’s now on show, almost touching Jareth again, how starred down at you confused, as you looked up at him with a small grin, lifting your leg up and over hip. Instantly he had gripped the soft skin under your thigh, your dress now bunched up to your waist, as you wrapped your arms around Jareths neck.

Pressing your clothes core against, his bulging, your core soaking through, jumping up, so that both of your legs were now wrapped tightly against Jareth. Your lips on his, his hands travelling up your legs slowly, all the way to your waist again, wet kisses as your hips began to rock against Jareths stone member. Your stomach turning into knots against him.

Your clit pulsating against him, undoubtedly he could feel it too, your speed quickly increase, pushed Jareth over the edge with a loud groan, you were pressed against the stone floor. Still, you grinned harshly against him, his hands now either side of your head, his only your upper back against the floor.

Looking into his hungry eyes, pleading for him to do something, stopping your hip movements . “J-Jareth, a-are you sure we should do this here? W-with these people?” Jareth had only smirked at you lowering himself to your ear level. “Love, you’ve got nothing to be ashamed about, plus they can only see when I want them too, understand?” Whispering into your ear, that must be why they didn’t even look your way.

“Now, I must ask, do you want this? Definitely?” His face not inches from yours, his eyes searched yours. “Yes, please.” With that Jareth had unwrapped your legs from him, tearing the bottom of the dress, he was a very skinny man, it was a shame ‘twas a lovely dress. Only your underwear covered you bottom half now, your heels now discarded.

Snapping your legs closed in embarrassment, Jareth had lifted your leg by your calf pressed gently pecks all the way up, till he got your thigh, his eyes meeting yours as you sat up on your elbows, you had nodded at him, anyone would’ve been nervous, especially a virgin.

His lips now reattached to your soft skin on your thigh, gently he had pulled your legs apart , your heat had already been dripping from just kissing, but now it was a river. A snap of his fingers and your underwear were gone.

Jareths face now dangerously close, your whole lower parts on show to him, he had grinned up at you, his hot breath on your most sensitive area, sent chills through your core... literally. Jareth had groaned just feeling your thighs shake in his hands, his erection now painfully restricted.

With that he had slid his tongue up your folds one, letting out a gasp, you hadn’t been touched like this ever. He had brought a single figure to plunge into you, swirling it around you for only a second, his other hand now holding your stomach down, from your squirming underneath him. Removing the finger, his eyes locked onto your as he slipped it into his mouth, sucking on it, before pulling his finger out of his mouth with a pop.

His face satisfied with you, whimpering , he had barely touched you, yet you were pooling already, orgasm almost there, “please...” Parting your folds, he had slowly removed eye contact, his tongue now licking you like an icecream cone, your nerves on overdrive, he had plunged his tongue into you, his hand back on your thighs, squeezing as he swirled around in you. Your legs clenching on his head, grinding into his face.

“Jareth!” Considering you were quite shy, with men anyways, the moan of his name, caused Jareth to tighten his grip, tongue from your opening, he rolled your clit gently between his teeth, you hand cried out, your legs thrown over his shoulders, you could feel your orgasm coming. Pulling tightly at his long hair for more, a loud growl had erupted from his mouth, travelling through you, your stomach tightening.

So close to satisfaction, “J-Jareth..” His tongue had attached back onto your clit, bringing his fingers close to you, one of your legs still on his shoulder, the other leg, he had placed against the stone floor, spreading your legs widely, so that he could insert his finger into you. Your back now curved from the floor, adding two more fingers into your wet opening.

Sweat upon your face, like drops of rain water, allowing you a moment to adjust, Jareth had began to his fingers into you, his mouth detached, faster, and faster by the second. Spreading his fingers in you, you couldn’t hang on any longer. Your legs now shaking like hurricane, Jareth knew you was close, your head thrown back, as you finally met your orgasm.

Removing his fingers, as the please hit you like wrecking ball, throughout our lower half, you had let out a loud moan of pleasure. Your hips finally buckled , riding your orgasm in Jareths face. Panting heavily, Jareth had looking up , wiping the remaining of your juices on his palm.

“J-Jareth?” He now laid next to you, how was he still fully clothed? He had hummed in response. “C-can we just start with that for now,” You were worried, that he’d get angry, but instead he had just looked at you with a gently smile. “Of course, love.” Then you noticed, his painfully erected member, bringing your hand to his bulge rubbing him again, groaning in surprise.

“I-I’ve never done anything like this.” Jareth only nodded, as you stroked him through his pants, he wasn’t going to take your virginity not like this. He was a good man- fae sorry, he took all those children from people that didn’t want them. Shouldn’t be thinking about this right now.

Slipping you hand into Jareths pants, you stroked him harshly, rubbing the his tip gently with your thumb when you reached it, before repeating the cycle. Jareths lips upon yours , you could still taste yourself on him. Quickening your pace, soon enough his he had bitten down roughly onto your lip, as he came.

Yet again, you were both laying on the floor, laying your shoulders on his arm, that wrapped around you laying in his chest.

“Can I have my dog back? I mean- if you let me go back, you could come too, o-only if you want to anyways?” You had stuttered out your words , causing Jareth to laugh at you, he had a feeling you still remembered.

“Of course.”

#jareth x reader #the labyrinth #jareth #jareth imagine #Jareth x you #jareth imagines #the labyrinth imagines #goblin king #david bowie x reader #reader insert #the goblin king #the goblin king x reader #jareth smut

601 notes · View notes

hlizr50 · 3 years

Text

Labor Day Bonus Update: The Raven and the Songbird

Nothing like a holiday giving me an excuse to post the next chapter early. It's one of my absolute favorites.

Read on AO3

Chapter 5

Gwyn yawned, her entire form stretching and tightening. She knew it wouldn’t go unnoticed by Nesta and Emerie, but she just smiled serenely. She had needed this – time to talk and laugh and enjoy good food with her two closest friends in the world. The fae lights were dim, casting the private library in dusky shadow. Book spines were barely visible on the shelves, but she was content to sit and enjoy the conversation. She sighed before turning her focus to her Valkyrie sisters sitting on the floor, finding Nesta with a skeptical eyebrow raised.

“What?”

The eldest Archeron patted her hand on a tufted woolen floor pillow, green like a spring meadow. “Sit, Gwyneth. We need to talk.” Unease coiled in her stomach, but she slid down from the couch, clutching another throw pillow to her chest.

“What do we need to talk about?” Gwyn’s voice was tinier than she’d intended, and she knew the question was ridiculous as soon as she asked it.

“You’re tired. You’re sad. Nesta knocked you on your ass today,” Emerie answered, concern glowing in her dark gaze.

“That doesn’t mean something is wrong with me,” Gwyn giggled, but she knew her mirth was unconvincing. “You both are skilled fighters. Maybe Nesta has just gotten better than me.”

“I haven’t and you know it.”

Gwyn turned her attention to a very interesting tassel on the pillow she held. She could feel the pressure stinging her eyes and tried so hard to push down the tears that had so quickly threatened. She felt gentle fingers at her chin, pulling her gaze until she met Nesta’s gray stare.

“Gwyn. Talk to us. You are our sister. We love you. We’re worried about you.”

Her sisters. The knowledge that she had Nesta and Emerie had kept her going these past weeks, kept her stubborn heart and eyes from giving up. And now it was that care and comfort that unraveled her. She felt the hot trickle down her cheeks as Nesta’s calloused fingers brushed tendrils of hair away from her face. But she couldn’t say the words. She wasn’t one of those females that needed a male to be happy and thrive. She was a powerful warrior, strong and skilled.

“Is it Azriel, Gwyn?” The voice came from her other side, along with a feather-light brush of fingertips down her back. Emerie. Gwyn blinked and took three steadying breaths, allowing the patience and care from her sisters wash over her. It took a few moments before she felt she could form the words she needed.

“He started avoiding me, after the necklace,” her face cooled when Nesta removed her hands and reached down to grasp one of her own. “I let it go on for a few days, but I missed him. We were friends, and he… he helped me when I couldn’t sleep. Sometimes we would talk, most times we would train. After we found out about the necklace he stopped coming out to the ring at night. He would come to the door, and when he saw I was there he would leave. So I cornered him one day after training. It was all so stupid and I just wanted things to go back to normal.”

“What did you say to him?” Emerie asked, her voice soft as velvet.

“I told him that the necklace was a stupid thing to do, but we all do stupid things. I said that Elain and I had both deserved better, but I knew he would be better. I told him that I missed him, that all was forgiven, and then I asked if things could go back to normal.” Gwyn looked back up to Nesta, then turned to Emerie. “He said we were friends, and that everything would go back to normal.” She took a shuddering breath, earning a squeeze on her hand.

“And then he just… disappeared.”

She felt the burning return to her eyes and her throat, recalling that night in the rain when she had desperately wished he would come to her.

“That’s when you started zoning out at training. And punching the post until you were bruised and bleeding,” the Illyrian female realized.

“I knew it was bad when Cassian made you stop,” Nesta mused.

“Twice,” Gwyn confirmed, tears welling again. “I trained hard during the day, harder at night. The effort and pain helped distract me from the loss of his friendship… and from the nightmares.” She stared down at their interlace hands, noting how the low light made Nesta’s and Emerie’s skin contrast so deeply to hers and letting the tears fall in earnest.

“I thought they were better, Gwyn.” The worry lacing Nesta’s voice was thick, and suddenly the priestess felt guilty for keeping it from her… from them. She couldn’t look at them, but clutched their hands.

“They were, but now… it’s been really bad these last few days.” Gwyn sniffled and pulled her hands away from the comfort of her chosen family, opting instead to clutch the tasseled pillow to her chest again. She needed that grip, as if it were the only thing that could hold her together. “Almost a week ago I was in the training ring at night. It had been a difficult day, my hands were throbbing, Merrill was being… well, Merrill. It was raining when I walked out the door, but I needed time and space so I went out and sat in the middle and just let the rain wash everything away. Azriel came to the doorway, the first time since I’d cornered him that day. And… he barely spoke to me. I even said I’d had nightmares almost every day. And… and he told me I should go inside and then he just left.”

Gwyn tucked her knees up to the pillow against her chest and covered her face with her hands. Her body shook, much like it had that night when he’d left her – when something had shifted. Her throat felt so tight around her words. “It’s like something broke then. I stopped going to the training ring, and started working extra to distract myself. And the nightmares,“ she sobbed. She wasn’t ready to admit the terror of her changing dreams, but she was also desperate to tell someone how she had been suffering. “I have the same one every night – of that day at Sangravah. But… but when the general is done, when he tells the other males to continue taking from me…” Her breath sawed in and out of her and she could feel herself tremble. She could barely make her voice work as she uttered the terrible turn that her dreams had taken.

“He doesn’t come for me,” she whispered. The air was so still that she could feel Nesta’s sharp gasp stealing it from the space. “That moment when Azriel slaughtered them – when he saved me – no longer exists. And I have to face the terror of knowing what is coming. The fear and the pain and the horror and the desperation… it all feels just as real as it did that day.”

A pair of strong arms crushed her, and then a second embrace. Gwyn let go of the pain and the fear of those nights alone, afraid of sleep and unable to seek comfort from the only person who had helped keep those dreams at bay. Fingers combed through her hair, stroked up and down her back, soothing her as she cried.

That was all there was, for how long she didn’t know. She just knew heat in her cheeks, trembling, comforting hands at her shoulders, on her back, and in her hair. Then fingers gripped her wrists to pull her hands away from her face. She was sure her skin was red and splotchy, but she looked up to find Nesta’s own watery gaze.

“Gwyn, we will always come for you. All of us, including Azriel. You know that, right?”

“Of course I do,” the priestess answered with a nod.

“Good. As for the rest of this,” Nesta wiped her eyes and donned an expression not so unlike the days when she was brimming with the power of death. “Azriel is a fucking idiot.” Emerie burst out laughing, causing Gwyn to join with a chuckle of her own.

“I’m so glad I don’t prefer males.” The winged Valkyrie’s eyes glittered with mirth and concern, earning a nose-crinkling smile. Nesta pulled Gwyn’s attention back, pushing her jaw with a finger.

“Azriel is an idiot, but he cares for you. I’m certain of that. I haven’t known him too terribly long, but Cassian has. He’s different with you.”

“Maybe that isn’t a good thing.” Gwyn shrugged. She had thought so, too. But now he seemed to treat her with the same brooding aloofness that he reserved for practical strangers.

“No, I don’t think you understand,” Nesta insisted, reaching up to brush the wetness away from her cheeks. “Cassian and I have had this conversation more times than I can even count. ‘Berdara made Az laugh today’. ‘He couldn’t stop grinning today’. ‘I’ve never heard him banter like that’.”

“Why do you have so many conversations about that?” Gwyn couldn’t help but laugh at the strangeness of that thought, that Nesta and the general would be so invested in her interactions with the spymaster.

“That’s not even the point, Gwyneth,” Nesta huffed. Gwyn stuck her tongue out, still feeling Emerie’s hands softly at her back. “I’m going to kick Azriel’s ass back into line, but…” The priestess could see that Nesta was trying to choose her words, lips pursing and eyes staring above her. Then those icy eyes came back, full of determination.

“Do you care for him, Gwyn? Or, I suppose, how do you care for him?”

She just stared into Nesta’s eyes for a long moment, trying to find the right things to say. How to express what was churning in her heart. “Of course I care for him. He has become a dear friend.” Her friend’s gaze didn’t falter, daring her to say what she hadn’t admitted to anyone, not even to herself.

“And?”

Gwyn jerked her head, surprised that Emerie also seemed to know that there was more. The Illyrian’s countenance held that same caring determination, waiting with barely concealed expectation. Gwyn could only sigh.

“I… I don’t know. I trust him. Implicitly. He’s the only male I’ve never feared. And he’s beautiful, of course.”

“Yes, he certainly is,” Nesta sighed wistfully. Gwyn giggled and swatted her friend playfully on the shoulder.

“I feel… drawn to him, like we understand each other’s darkness. I should be terrified of him, theoretically, but I can’t be. And if… I don’t know what romance is supposed to be, what a relationship looks like. But I think, if he wanted to try, I would say yes. Without hesitation. Even after what happened at Sangravah,” she admitted. “But first and foremost… I just want his friendship. If that’s the only thing I can have then I’ll be happy.” And that was the truth. She would have him in her life, in whatever capacity. His absence was far too difficult to bear.

An enormous yawn pushed out of her lungs and she clapped her hands over her mouth, eyes wide. Nesta and Emerie laughed, Nesta pushing herself to her feet before offering her hands to Gwyn.

“You need to sleep. Hopefully tonight will be more restful,” she said as she pulled Gwyn to her feet and swiftly gathered her into a hug. She felt Emerie at her back, enveloping her as well. Gwyn could only smile and release a contented sigh, reveling in the love of her chosen sisters. She felt lighter, relieved to have shared the struggles she’d been facing. But then she yawned again, the exhaustion in her bones suddenly the only thing she could feel. Her eyelids drooped and she felt herself losing her battle with sleep even as she stood there, still wrapped in that Valkyrie embrace. As her body became heavy, yet weightless, she couldn’t comprehend the words she heard.

“Ready to crash boys night, Em? I might actually kill him.”

~~~

Azriel, Cassian, and Rhys lounged in the study, each nursing crystal glasses with varying amounts of amber liquid. Azriel studied the cut angles in his glass, the firelight reflecting kaleidoscopes of brightness off the liquor. He’d already had more to drink than usual, not typically one to lose his wits from alcohol. But tonight he had partaken in a bit extra, perhaps in the vain hope that the libations would settle his mind. The roaring thoughts still stormed through him from earlier in the day – guilt, stubbornness, anger, shame.

Of course, the alcohol staunched none of it.

“You seem particularly broody tonight, Az.” Cassian’s amused voice broke through that cyclone and Azriel fixed him with a narrow-eyed glare. His brother just smirked victoriously at him, knowing the truth in his observation. “Wouldn’t have anything to do with that sleepover at the house, would it?”

“Sleepover at the house?” Rhys turned his starlit gaze toward the shadowsinger, but Azriel didn’t have any intention of answering. Cassian, however, so enjoyed irritating him.

“A certain redhead priestess has been acting strangely and Nesta is determined to figure it out,” he drawled, pointed amber gaze fixed on the spymaster. “I think it has something to do with our tall, dark, and brooding brother here.”

“Gwyneth Berdara?” Azriel flicked his eyes toward the High Lord whose brows were arched in surprise. “Why would that have anything to do with you?”

“I’m pretty sure,” Azriel groaned when Cassian began to answer, sinking deeper into the velvet tufts of the oversized armchair, “that the two of them want to be friendlier than friends.”

“Gwyn and I have a professional, platonic relationship. Nothing more,” Azriel growled. He wasn’t in any sort of headspace to deal with Cassian’s ribbing, or to explain it away to Rhys. He looked up to find the Illyrian general had set down his glass and was leaning back casually, crossing his arms.

“Is that so?” Azriel wanted to slap that smug grin off his face. “Is that why you can never keep your eyes off her at training? Is that what’s happening when you grin at her when she gives your shit right back to you? When she makes you throw your head back and laugh?” He could feel the heat rising up his neck and into his cheeks.

“Laugh? Out loud?” The High Lord balked and Azriel rolled his eyes.

“I laugh, thank you very much.”

“Not like that, you don’t,” Cassian countered. Azriel just shook his head as his brother turned to Rhys. “You should see it, Rhys. I never thought I’d see the day – “

“WHERE IS HE?!” A female voice echoed from down the hall.

“Nesta?” Rhys wondered aloud.

“Where is that idiotic overgrown bat? I swear on the Cauldron I’m going to kill him.”

“Yup, that’s Nesta,” Cassian confirmed with a groan. “What the fuck did I do now? I wasn’t even at the house –“

The study doors burst open as Nesta pushed through, gray eyes shimmering with rage. Azriel leaned forward as her gaze fell on him.

“YOU.”

“Me?”

“Him?” Cassian gawked, but then grinned wickedly. “Oh, this is a nice change. I could get used to this.”

“Keep your mouth shut or you’re next,” Nesta snapped as she strode in front of Azriel’s chair. “Azriel, would you care to tell me why I just spent an hour comforting one Gwyneth Berdara while she sobbed in my arms? Any ideas?” His eyes grew wide and his face went slack, unable to comprehend exactly what was happening.

“Nothing to contribute, Shadowsinger? How fucking convenient. Maybe you could tell me why you avoided her even after you told her that things would go back to normal and that you were friends? Or perhaps you could explain why you left her alone in the rain the one time you did actually talk to her, even after she told you her nightmares were bad again?”

“I –“ He didn’t get a chance. Nesta stepped closer.

“Not done, Az. Not even close. Maybe you have an explanation for her working herself into exhaustion at the library to avoid time alone? Or the reason she doesn’t go to the training ring at night anymore?” Azriel just stared, dumbfounded at what she was saying. He pressed himself back into the chair as the honey-haired female placed her hands on the armrests and leaned in so far they breathed the same air.

“Tell me, Azriel,” she whispered, voice thick with emotion and ice, “why every night for the last week she has dreamed of Sangravah. And in that nightmare when that general is finished hurting her, she has to feel the soul-crushing terror of watching the next soldier take his place because you don’t come to save her.” And Nesta pulled a hand back and slapped him.

Azriel knew his eyes were wide as saucers as the breath punched out of him. He barely registered the tingle of pain in his cheek, absorbing what she had told him. Gwyn’s nightmares. Every night. And they had twisted into something even more horrifying.

How could any part of her think that he wouldn’t come for her?

He looked back to Nesta who had backed away. Cassian had risen to comfort her, brushing tears away from her cheeks and murmuring into her ear. Azriel got to his feet and took a measured step toward them.

“Nesta, I –“

“You care for her, don’t you?”

Azriel knew they could see the wetness in his eyes, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. He had been wrong to leave her, wrong about so many things. And he was done denying.

“Of course I do, Nesta. More than I think I can explain right now.”

“Then fix this.” Her voice was colder than his could ever be, a warning that he wouldn’t like what would happen if he didn’t make it right. But he had every intention to.

He was miserable without her.

Azriel gave Nesta a curt nod, turned on his heel, and stalked out of the study. He kept his surprise masked as he passed Emerie, who was leaning in the doorway, also wearing that expression – promising violence for hurting one of their own. He nodded to her, too, acknowledging his part in all of this. Then he practically ran down the hall and through the entrance of the river house, only taking three steps in the night air before taking to the sky.

Straight to the House of Wind.

Comment or DM to be added to the tag list!

Tag List: @tealnymph-writes @trashforazriel @secretlovelybeauty @meher-sumedha @imsointobooks @flora-shadowshine @positivewitch @tanvee1231 @imwritingthesewords @camreadsum @vikingmagic33 @shisingh @gwynrielsupremacist @deedz-thrillerkilller16

#gwynriel supremacy #gwynriel #gwynriel fanfiction #gwynriel fic #fanfiction #AO3 #gwyneth berdara #azriel shadowsinger #gwyn x azriel #acotar fanfiction

67 notes · View notes

pink-flame · 3 years

Text

Like You Could Love Me

So...the Angry Flower Squad was making me SO soft over gifs and @mamirugbee wanted porch fluff with kissing and I remembered that @thedeathdeelers and @missjoolee liked my idea of using this post as a Juke prompt and here we are. I wrote this from 12-2am so it’s quite possibly incoherent and I’m not checking for mistakes until tomorrow so take it for what it is, a late night labor of love. Enjoy! 💜

Julie hadn’t slept for almost 48 hours.

Her school was hosting a Los Feliz High After Dark event for the lower grades who didn’t get to attend prom. It was pitched as being just as exciting as the dance but in practice was known to be little more than a glorified sleepover in the school gym with PTA members for chaperones. Flynn had been determined that that year would be different, and had talked Julie into joining her on the planning committee.

The good news was that Flynn had a real flair for party planning and decorating when she was actually invested (see the difference between the dance they tried to forget and the way she had helped Julie’s dad throw together an epic garage party in less than 24 hours). So by the time Julie and Flynn and the other volunteers were done the gym was fully immersed in a carnival theme full of cute booths filled with potential activities and cute backgrounds to take pictures in front of. It was definitely an improvement over the year before which had been an under the sea theme which had consisted mostly of a few blue streamers and Mr. Weaver walking around in an inflatable Nemo costume.

The bad news was that it had taken a lot longer than they had anticipated and they hadn’t fallen into bed the night before the event until close to 2am. Julie hadn’t been able to sleep even after she slipped into bed next to Flynn and heard her best friend start making the small whistling noises that indicated she was out cold. Julie had been kept up with thoughts of what her bandmates were up to without her and if they had lingered a little longer on what Luke in particular was doing right then, well that wasn’t that surprising.

She loved Alex and Reggie but neither of them had attempted to hold her hand and remarked on their “interesting little relationship” or suddenly developed the ability to touch her and instinctively joined her in reaching out to gently cradle the other’s face.

No, Luke was different, not that she wanted to say that in front of him unless she was sure he felt the same overwhelming feelings she did Oddly enough she was much more concerned about the possibility that he didn’t than she was about the fact that he was still..well, a ghost. It wasn’t that she was unaware that his ghostly status could lead to heartache for her later on, of course she was. It just didn’t seem so important suddenly. After what had happened with her mom, what had almost happened with the guys only a couple of months ago...anything could happen at any time. Tomorrow wasn’t guaranteed anyway so why deny herself happiness now if she could have it? If she could have it. Because that was still the question.

Because Luke obviously liked her but did he like her? That sounded so juvenile but to call it anything else...well, that was really scary. Evil ghosts and the looming possibility of their return had nothing on the insecurity that came with not knowing exactly how the boy you lo...liked felt about you.

So Julie didn’t get much sleep that night, Flynn’s alarm seeming to go off only moments after she finally drifted off. She had dragged through school that day, trying to match Flynn’s excitement for the night’s upcoming festivities though her own enthusiasm had quickly drained out of her altogether along with her energy. In the end it had been as fun a night as it could be with Julie spending most of it in a semi-exhausted haze. She and Flynn had played some of the games they had set up, and danced to the music they both agreed would have been better if it had been either DJ’d by Flynn or performed by Julie’s band, and when Carrie had sneered something about how tacky the theme was even that had been half hearted and without any real bite.

So it was a pretty good night all things considered and Julie was in a good mood despite her complete exhaustion by the time Flynn’s mom dropped her off early the next morning. Ok, so maybe part of her good mood was actually because of her exhausted state by that point as she found herself feeling giddy and her mind had gone sort of pleasantly fuzzy. That was her excuse for how she found herself half-skipping up the path towards her front door, singing to herself.

We create...perfect harmony

“Somebody had a good time.”

Julie’s head snapped up to take in the figure of the boy who leaned against the pillar of the porch in front of her, a small smile bordering on a smirk tugging at his lips.

Luke.

What was he doing there?

Was he waiting for her?

She had to play it cool.

She had to be normal.

She had to not give away all the feelings that had been swirling around inside of her for the last couple of months since they first gained the ability to touch each other whenever they wanted and promptly both became too awkward to touch each other at all.

She had to…

“I missed you,” She blurted.

One of Julie’s hands flew up to cover her mouth as she took the last few steps up onto the porch, trying and failing to ignore the way Luke’s eyes widened even as that vaguely infuriating smirk grew larger.

“I didn’t mean that,” She insisted once her hand had dropped back to her side. “I mean...I didn’t not mean it but...I just meant it would have been fun if you could have come. Any of you. All of you. Um...yeah.”

Luke let her dig herself deeper, waiting until her stream of words had come to a complete stop. When they finally dried up he pushed off of the pillar with one of his signature little bounces, letting his momentum carry him to within a step of where she stood awkwardly on the porch.

“Did someone spike the punch at this dance?” He asked her, amusement clear in his tone.

Julie shook her head a little too fiercely, indignant despite the fact that she couldn’t exactly blame him for suspecting that she was drunk.

She felt a little drunk.

Not that she knew what it was like to be drunk but she was pretty sure it was similar to this.

Not the point.

“It wasn’t a dance it was a school sanctioned slumber party,” She corrected, focusing all of her energy on not slurring her words or otherwise embarrassing herself. “And nobody spiked anything. And actually nobody drinks punch anymore. Just so you know.”

Luke held up both hands as though he were surrendering but that smirk of his was impossible to deny at this point, a fact that both made Julie incredibly irritated and simultaneously fighting the urge to lean up and kiss it right off his stupid face.

Ok, that was not helpful.

“Not a dance, no punch. Got it,” Luke said, his voice just soft enough to keep her annoyance more or less at bay.

“Why are you out here anyway?”

Julie hadn’t meant to ask that but it felt like any filter her brain generally had was long gone at this point.

Luke tilted his head slightly and reached up to scratch at the back of his neck.

“Oh, you know, just taking in the view.”

Julie frowned skeptically.

“Taking in the view?”

“Yeah,” Luke said, gesturing out at the plant filled yard. “Just communing with nature you know? Honestly, I forgot you were even out last night.”

“Oh.”

Julie dipped her head a little so she didn’t have to look directly at Luke as disappointment rushed through her. She was pretty sure she was too tired to keep the evidence of that emotion from being completely visible. She was so frustrated with herself for caring at all. He wasn’t her boyfriend after all. Why would be be waiting for her?

“Julie.”

She reluctantly raised her head to meet Luke’s gaze which was fixed insistently on her. His smirk had fallen away leaving behind a look at once more open and somehow harder to read at the same time.

“I’m kidding,” He told her as he took a half-step closer to her, so close that she had to tilt her head up further to maintain eye contact. “I was waiting for you.”

“Oh,” She said again, very aware that she seemed to have lost the ability to say anything else.

She reached deep down inside and mustered up the strength to pull out one further word.

“Why?”

His eyes somehow managed to soften even more and his voice was oddly breathy when he answered.

“Because I missed you too.”

And Julie knew that the most prudent thing to do was tuck that phrase away as something warm, and happy and precious to examine more closely when she had slept and had the mental prowess to actually determine what it meant for their interesting little relationship.

She knew that.

But she was exhausted not only from lack of sleep but from months spent questioning where they stood. She was happy to hear him say that he had missed her, of course she was. But she also found herself feeling strangely...angry.

How dare he look at her with those big soft eyes and stare at her like that if he wasn’t ever planning on actually putting her out of her misery by telling her how he felt or didn’t feel?

“I wish you wouldn’t look at me like that,” The words burst out of her without her permission.

Luke was clearly taken aback by her words, his eyebrows shooting up his forehead.

“Like what?”

“I don’t know,’ She hesitated, just enough awareness seeping back in to make her realize what a truly stupid thing she was about to say. “Like you could love me.”

She watched as a whole range of emotions rushed over his face too quickly for her to decipher exactly what all of them were.

“Julie…”

“Forget I said anything,” Julie interrupted, turning towards the front door with every intention to flee the situation. “I’m just really tired.”

“Julie!”

He said her name more forcefully that time and she froze. She didn’t turn back to face him though, the pounding in her chest and the heat spreading across her face giving her all the incentive she needed to keep her head facing away.

Luke wasn’t having any of that though.

He reached out to gently tug her back towards him, one hand settling on her cheek while the other rested on her waist.

If she hadn’t been blushing before she certainly was now.

“Do you not want me to look at you like that because...because you don’t feel the same?”

Luke’s voice shook a little as he gave voice to that question, his thumb seeming to stroke across her cheek without his permission.

Julie was reeling, everything feeling surreal and dreamlike anyway because of her lack of sleep but when combined with Luke’s gentle actions it felt more and more unreal. She couldn’t help but remember the last time he had touched her face, how they had clutched at each other thinking it was the only chance they would ever have. Now they had new chances every day and they had been wasting them.

Why had they been wasting them?

“Wait...feel the same as what? Feel the same as who?” She asked as her brain finally caught up with what he had actually said.

He visibly swallowed and she took some comfort in the fact that apparently he was nervous too.

“The same as I feel,” He paused. “About you. I...I love you, Julie. And if that makes you uncomfortable I never have to say it again, ok? But it’s how I feel and I just wanted to say it. Once or whatever.”

“But…” Julie felt a giggle rising up inside of her as exhaustion and the pure absurdity of the moment settled in. “But I love you too.”

Luke’s thumb froze on her face as his eyes lit up with something close to hope.

“You do?”

Julie nodded, the giggle finally bursting out of her only to be met with a grin from Luke so radiant she wished she could capture it in a photo to look at later.

“You love me,” Luke said again as though he needed to confirm beyond any shadow of doubt.

“I love you,” Julie repeated agreeably. “And you love me?”

Luke nodded, bouncing a little on his heels as he somehow managed to step even more into her space.

“I love you.”

“Well…” Julie sighed happily. “Well, that’s great then.”

Luke let out a bark of laughter that probably would have been loud enough to bring her dad to the porch if anyone but her had been able to hear it.

Before she had time to remark on how obnoxiously loud he could be he was crowding her back until she bumped into the pillar he had been leaning against when she got home. The moment her back made contact with its firm surface he was bringing his other hand up until he was cupping both of her cheeks. She barely had time to adjust to that very much welcome sensation before he was lowering his head and aligning his lips with hers, pressing them together in a chaste peck that was still enough to send her heart racing. He started to pull back as if to gauge her reaction but she was having none of that. She had been waiting for this for so long and as previously established she had absolutely none of her usual ability to deny herself what she wanted.

And what she wanted was her hands on Luke Patterson right then.

She reached up and latched one hand on the back of his neck and the other threaded deep into his hair giving it a little tug just because she could. She had been wanting to touch him so badly ever since that night in the garage when she’d almost lost him and she’d been wanting to touch his dumb, messy hair ever since “I’m Luke by the way”. So she did.

He let out a little pleased sound that was cut off when she stretched up to press her mouth back to his, this time with twice as much force and no intention of separating anytime soon. To his credit he took the hint pretty fast, his hands dropping from her face to wrap around her waist tugging her body to press against his as he moved his lips insistently against hers. And wow...that was something, the sensation of almost all of her pressed up against almost all of him.

He wasn’t warm, not exactly, but he wasn’t cold either like she had feared he would be. It was more like his body was mirroring back exactly her own temperature, leaving it hard to determine where one of them began and the other ended when her eyes were closed as they currently were.

Or maybe that was just them.

Maybe it was like that quote she always saw floating around online about souls being made of the same stuff.

When she was well rested and thinking rationally she had always rolled her eyes a bit at stuff like that but now...she was beginning to see the appeal.

Julie massaged absentmindedly at the back of his neck as she drew his lower lip into her mouth, the sound he made in response enough to have her pulling back with a giggle.

“Come back here,” He mumbled, his lips chasing hers even as she turned her face away leaving him to press soft, wet kisses to her cheek.

“Now you sound drunk,” She told him, turning back to face him and looping both arms around his shoulders. “My dad will be up soon and I have no idea how I’d explain...this...when he can’t even see you.”

Luke groaned as he leaned down to rest his forehead against hers.

“You’re right.”

“I’m right,” Julie echoed.

It was true but that didn’t mean she was happy about it.

They stayed like that for another minute or so, just enjoying being this close to each other with nothing to hide. They might have stayed like that longer but Julie suddenly let out a yawn she couldn’t contain directly into Luke’s face.

Luke pulled back sharply but the soft smile that seemed to always be reserved just for her remained in place.

“You need to get some sleep,” He told her firmly.

She wanted to argue but all that came out was another yawn.

Ok, so there was no arguing with that.

“Goodnight,” She told him, suddenly feeling shy as she backed towards the front door wanting to keep him in her sight just a little longer.

Luke gestured around them to the soft light spilling around her yard.

“Good morning,” He corrected with a grin.

Never one to let him have the last word, certainly not when she was too tired to be embarrassed, Julie leapt forward to press one final lingering kiss on his lips, retreating before he could do more than return the pressure.

Julie backed towards the front door, the grin now firmly on her face and a rather dumbstruck one adorning his.

“Band practice later,” She reminded him. “Don’t be late.”

Then she slipped into the house and up to her bed, incredibly tired and pretty sure of exactly what she would be dreaming of.

#I blame the #angry flower squad #for this #and also my other friends who encourage me to see juke everywhere #you know you are #and I love you for it #feels so good to write dumb fluff honestly #Juke #Jatp #my fics #fanfiction

164 notes · View notes

spade-riddles · 3 years

Text

Submission: Adjusting expectations

Okay, guys. Wading in here where it’s possible no-one wants me, but … here goes.

We - Kaylors - are in a hard place right now. People feel hurt, they feel hopeless. They feel like they were led on by the likes of Spade. I’m not here to invalidate any of the feelings that come from seeing Karlie and Taylor play out this charade.

But I think we (collectively, as a fandom) need to take a breath and ask if any of this is really as bad or unfixable as we think it is. Because, for me, the recent stunting is hard to stomach but not truly surprising. On some level this is how I expected Karlie and Taylor to handle both the birth of the baby and the launch of the rerecorded albums. As much I wanted to believe in the idea of spring breaking loose and bringing with it a fervent revolution … I could see the pieces still in play on the board and I doubted it was coming.

I think the problem is that there was a split between the optimist and pragmatist sides of the fandom, over the last year or so. To be clear - I’m not judging the optimist side of the fandom. Not at all. Taylor has pulled wildcard moves before, and emotions run so high in all this, especially with a baby involved now, that I don’t blame people for wanting to believe the best. But it reached a stage where some of the things people were trying to talk themselves into were just wildly unrealistic. And when that happens, of course you’re going to get hurt. It’s inevitable.

But let’s really look at this for a second. We should have known that neither Karlie nor Taylor was going to be shaving her beard in March. Ditching Jerk right after or just before the birth would have been too soon for Karlie. It’s not unusual for a celeb marriage to fizzle out within a year of the birth, but before the baby even arrives? That would be weird, and would draw attention just when it seems Kaylor don’t want it. They just had a baby. That’s an adjustment in itself, and Karlie is suffering enough social media hate on top of that. I wouldn’t blame her for just wanting to take a break and lie low during this difficult time. And unfortunately, for Karlie, that means maintaining the status quo of the situation she put herself in with Jerk. She may be doing the bare minimum to maintain it, but if she wants to avoid attention, she has to make it seem like everything between her and her “husband” is normal. And that she’s trying to make it work, which I believe will be important later. Good people try to make it work, even in bad relationships.

Toe wasn’t going anywhere either. Taylor had relied on him so heavily during the promotion of Folklore, with the William Bowery narrative, that she was almost backed into a corner. She had to give some allusion to his air quotes “creative input” and their so-called happy relationship, or her failure to do so would have become the story and overshadowed her night. The headlines would have either been break-up speculation or complaints that she didn’t give him his due. We think the cutesy coverage after she named him in her acceptance speech was bad, but negative headlines have a far longer shelf life and can take on a life of their own. They would have been worse. Whatever we might think of Taylor’s actions, Folklore is one of her best albums and she deserved to have her night.

So, on to the announcement of the birth. This is a tricky one, and again, I completely understand why people reacted so badly against it. It was everything we as a fandom said we didn’t want. It was Jerk using the baby for personal good PR. But I have to be honest here. I always thought we were kidding ourselves believing he would NEVER be seen with the baby or implied to be the father. I do believe Karlie is doing her damnedest to minimize the digital footprint of his involvement and keep her actual baby out of it. But he was always going to get to bask in the glow of playing daddy for a while. It’s the trade off Kaylor made when they used him to shore up their closet.

This is also why I increasingly suspect the timing of the announcement got the green light from Kaylor too. If Jerk was always going to be assumed to be the father of Karlie’s baby, then there was always going to have to be a birth announcement that incorporated him somehow - unless the girls were ready to answer awkward questions, and it doesn’t seem like we’re there yet. So the best way to minimize the damage is to have his moment of glory overshadowed by a bigger win for Taylor. It worked pretty well actually. Even on Kaylor blogs the stunt was mostly buried by Taylor content.

I know a lot of fans feel gaslit by all the hints, but I do think there’s a possibility Taylor really didn’t grasp how hurt Kaylors would be. From her perspective, she “fed” fans three times over that night. She gave us a beautiful performance, a gorgeous red carpet moment, and a win to celebrate. I think it’s possible she really didn’t realize the double whammy of stunting that night would make it all feel worthless for many.

Taylor is in an awkward position. As a consequence of Kaylor retreating into the closet, the support base for them has shrunk. (When I use the words “Kaylor fandom”, I refer to this support base.) I would say Kaylor fandom consists of two parts. There is a silent portion, who observe events and comment anonymously, but don’t say anything “on main”. And then there are the small corps of true believers, who think Karlie and Taylor are still together and the baby is theirs. This latter group do most of the actual talking about Kaylor, but they tend to be pretty battle-hardened. They’ve been around for years, they never believe any of the stunts and their capacity to be hurt by them is, as a result, pretty limited. These Kaylors criticize sometimes, but they tend to fall back in line eventually and mostly adopt a “let’s wait and see how this all shakes out” approach. The problem is that I would say these “chilled” Kaylors are the minority. For their own sanity they curate their blog experience and often don’t post the more negative anons they get. Which is fine, but if you were looking at it from the outside, I could see how it might create an impression that the fandom as a whole can roll with the punches. And for a lot of the silent majority, that’s not the case.

But again, I can see how Taylor might not necessarily know that. She went quiet after the Grammys, when I might have expected more celebratory posts from her. If I had to guess, I’d say she didn’t expect the backlash. I’m especially noticing a backlash against her for allowing Karlie to take so many hits while her own reputation has never been better. And I can’t defend her on that one, except to say I hope she has a plan. But I understand where people are coming from when they say the songs aren’t enough and actions speak louder than words. It’s tough to watch.

Still, we’re in a position we should realistically have been able to see coming. We should have known Jerk wasn’t going to be out of the picture immediately after the birth. This is one of those things nobody likes, but maybe we all just have to be patient on. I don’t see Karlie busting out of the closet to admit her marriage was a fake, or testifying to the FBI. I think she’ll just let her marriage quietly fall apart, as many real marriages did during the pandemic. And for that to work, she needs to make it look like didn’t throw away a family unit lightly. Hence the “I tried” post, the social media break, and the suggestions of spending time with Jerk’s family. All of this can be spun later into a narrative of Karlie having tried to make it work, only to never really be accepted. The hate online affected her mental health and she gradually realized how unhappy she’d become and decided she needed to break free and find her old self again for her baby’s sake. This is the most likely narrative for Karlie’s freedom and it’s one that could work - but it’s going to take time to unfold. Personally, I’m giving it a year. If we don’t see a separation by then, and definitive moves to a reunited Kaylor, I’ll be bowing out. I’ll still know what I believe the truth to be, but I won’t see the need to devote my energy to defending it. ,

Meanwhile, the masters rerecords are about to be released, and Taylor has invested a lot in their success. Because of this, I can’t envision her coming out until at least the big three (Fearless, 1989, and Red) have dropped. She might drop hints, but I don’t expect anything earth-shattering. Even the order of the album releases seems to confirm this. She’s breaking out the big guns first.

I’ve seen people speculate that because Rep can’t be rerecorded until 2022, Taylor will hold off on any coming out until then. And I’m not so sure of that. Yes, people listening to the album for clues would give Scott and Scooter money, but if we’re being honest, a fair amount of people are probably listening to those albums already, regardless of the drama. Those sleazeballs are profiting from Rep, full stop. But if Taylor profits more, from her bigger albums, she still wins. And she can still put out a Taylor’s version of Rep with vault tracks and collabs, to seduce people away from the Big Machine version in early 2022. Honestly, I think there’s a good chance Taylor would consider this is a worthwhile trade-off anyway, if it meant she got to live a more open life with Karlie - and most crucially, begin to repair Karlie’s reputation. As children get older and the world begins to leave the pandemic behind, it becomes harder to live behind closed doors. I guess we’ll find out how Taylor finds the reality of such a life, and what she considers worth sacrificing to step away from it.

All this to say: I can’t predict the future more than anyone else, but I don’t think the situation we’re in now is irreparable, and if we’re being really objective, I don’t think it’s even surprising. I do think Taylor should give us something, if she wants to keep us around. No-one can live on a complete absence of hope, and as I’ve stated, letting the fandom dwindle to this extent has its own dangers. But I think we also need to keep our time frames realistic, even if it means rejecting lifelines like the Spade riddles. We shouldn’t expect Karlie to be free of Jerk for around a year, and we shouldn’t expect Taylor to do anything much beyond general music promo until at least the big three have dropped. Sucks to say it, I know. But at least this way we won’t be disappointed, and if Kaylor do pull a wild card and move towards freedom, we can be pleasantly surprised.

Just my two cents.

___________________

Well written and fair arguments on our reactions and expectations. I had typed up more, but I will let others post their comments before I chime in.

134 notes · View notes

alvhiedeir · 3 years

Text

Little Red Elf

Thor X Reader

3174 words

This is longer than intended and quite different than requested and I have no excuse than my lack of discipline but I hope this is good enough

You are seriously thinking about investing on a security camera.

No, it wasn't that you were worried about being robbed. It's was being, 'gifted'.

In an almost daily basis, different items would make it's way to your doorstep. Black roots, hyacinth, hellebores, poppies and other herbs that would usually not grow around the area. It was nice, that was the first thought you had. You were no Circe, the great witch of Aiaia, but such ingredients could and did help greatly with your draughts. So as much as this occurrence should startle you, you brushed it off as the doing of one of your friends working for Lord Osanyin who would usually send you samples of anything new. You figured business was just doing better than usual for her to give you this much.

Two weeks, it continued on. When you rise for the day, there would be a neatly placed bundle of herbs or plant on your front steps. Always perfectly centered. And for two weeks, you accepted each and everything in such giddiness.

That is until you until today.

"I haven't been given you anything, (y/n)," She turned away from the selves she was organizing and continued, "it's been pretty busy lately for the last month with the arrival of new supply from Asia."

Her answer gave you a sudden feeling of uneasiness.

"Then who," your voice trailed, dragging the weariness and alert in the air. Your friend was quick to catch the shift of your mood.

"But think about it," she placed the bottle she was holding and walked towards you, "those herbs are rare and what are the chances of a random miscreant obtaining it?"

It eased your nerves a bit to hear her words.

"Or maybe, you finally have an admirer even if your always holed up in your home!"

She laughed at the jesting glare you sent.

"Like you're any better, cat lady."

"Hey! Having four cats does not count as being a cat lady!"

"Sure, whatever you say."

You shared a laugh, the tension thinning out. After saying a few words, she went back to the counter to pack the herbs that you bought, the reason why you were there in the first place.

"You bought quite a lot. What is it for anyway?"

"Loki wanted some draughts to "bring entertainment around this damn boring halls", his words not mine."

She laughed, commenting how it sounded just like him. She handed you the carefully packed products, with a small purple ribbon tied on the basket as she always did for you.

Just as you're about to leave she called out.

"If you're still disturb about the whole mysterious gifts, why don't you try staying up to see who it is?" You thanked her for her suggestion and concern and with a wave, headed back home.

To say the least, her suggestion was not very successful.

After you went home, you got started on the ordered draughts and by the time the moon greeted the sky, your eyes were already heavy. Being stubborn, you stayed sitting in your kitchen, chair facing the window to see if anyone or anything would past by.

The minutes were slow and before you knew it, the sun has reclaimed its place. And there was yet another gift. A freshly uprooted crab apple tree that barely passes as an adult. How in the world did they get this one?

Another week fast approached and the gifts arrived just as fast. Cornel bark, elecampane, silver fir, the list goes on. Each night, you attempt to desperately stay awake to catch but a glimpse would always end up with you succumbing to sleep. It didn't matter if it was for hours or a mere minute, by the moment your eyelids flutter open, it was already there. Perfectly centered as always, in an almost mocking way.

"You missed us again", you could hear the ridicule from it.

As days flutter, the gifts and your frustrations would only intensify. One time it was antlers from a dear Australia. The other day it was the tusk of a bore. Yesterday it was the blood of steed. The last one made you panic a bit, but thankfully in came only in a small vial. It eased your nerves, albeit slightly that the animal was minimally harmed.

You tried sleeping in the morning so that so that you could roam at night. But when you rise from your chair for a drink or to go the toilet, the sneaky bastard have already placed another gift. You went as far as sitting on your doorstep for the whole night, but even that didn't help. The gift was on your window.

You were at your wits end with this "Persistent Santa" shenanigans (it was your friend who called them that. It was that or creepy-pile-of-dung-that-had-to-much-time). Whoever they were, they are good.

You sighed tiredly again, the dark bags proving Your fruitless efforts.

"Wow, you look miserable!" You silently snapped at the voice, too sleepy to argue but to proud to ignore it. His laugh was laugh, always happy to see others demise.

"Just give me the money, Loki." You impatiently thrust the basket full of draughts to him, eager to leave and maybe sleep for a few days.

"Aren't you greedy." The more he teases you, the more punching him right in the face became an increasingly good option. As if reading your voice, he raised his hands in mock surrender.

" I would pay you, but," he dragged his voice as floated closer to you, "I dont have my money right now. And the old man is calling me so can you wait a few minutes for me?" He smiled, oh-so-mockingly sweet at you.

A tomato would have been jealous of the tint of your check. The itching call for violence is now an unignorable howler. But before you can give in, the god of mischief is already pushing you into one of the rooms, claiming your silence as agreement. In a blink, you were in a well decorated room. The walls were cream in color and golden leaves decorated the corners. Threre were shelves of book against one side of the wall and-

"Wait a minute." Snapping out of your trance, you shouted, voice filled with vile, "Loki!"

But sadly, it came too late and the door have already been shut and only his feint mocking voice telling "enjoy!" Was heard from the other side.

You could sighed, pity for your own predicament. Moving towards one of the shelves with a colorful string of curse words following, you might sa well entertain yourself with something. The books were more old, and probably cost more than your soul. Each one was placed neat and organized, neither a speck or spot of dust could be seen. But one particular book caught your eye.

With a gentle finger, you traced the gold imprints on its spine.

Herbs, Medicine and Witchcraft

Unlike everything else, this one book was placed different. It was pulled slightly forward, as if recently placed back but someone else other than the organizer. When you pull it out, you also noticed the small, almost miniscule dirt on its cover. But other than that, it was nothing special.

"I didn't think they'll have this kind of book."

You sat down and flipped on a random page. It was filled with information about different plants that can be used for both medicine and, surprisingly witchcraft. It included their typical use, characteristics, side effects and their locations. And it was very specific too.

"I wonder if I can borrow this."

Page upon page was flipped, despite the fascination dwelling in you, drowsiness became unbearable. It was just so quiet and peaceful here. Maybe a few minutes won't hurt, right?

"Loki will be there for a while anyway. Might as well." Your reasoning seemed to make sense with your tired eyes and you rest your head. Not even bothered by the fact that you used the book as your pillow.

It'll just be few minutes anyway.

It wasn't a few minutes.

Slowly, your eyelids fluttered as consciousness begin to come back. You sighed contently, that nap certainly helped with your mood. You buried your nose deeper into the soft cloth you leaned on and inhaled. It smelled like fresh lilacs and the sun.

Wait, cloth?

You lifted your head and saw, indeed there was a neatly folded cloth on the place of the book. It was pale apricot, almost faded white and now that you are looking properly, it was a short robe?

"I starting to think you were not going to wake up."

Do you know the sound of a startled walrus with a respiratory disease? Imagine that, but worse. That how you sounded as you whipped your head in surprise to the voice. Right beside you was the god of thunder himself, Thor. The difference in size between him and the chair he was resting on was almost comical. You would have laughed if it wasn't for the fact you want to live a longer.

"He-hello Thor-sama." Damnit, what did you stutter?

He casted his eyes sideways to acknowledge your greeting, glacing right back into reading afterwards.

Looking yourself, it was then you noticed the book he was reading was the one you were previously sleeping on.

"It didn't seem like you were using it," his voice was monotone as for usual, "aside as a pillow, that is."

Ahh, the sheer pleasure of being swallowed by the ground right now would be nice.

"Ah! That- I! Yes..." You simply stared at your lap instead, fist clenched tightly on top. Better to stay quiet that to embarrass yourself further.

Thor was in between being an acquaintance and a work friend. Neither of you talked much, aside from greetings and small talk but was more than used to his presence with the number of times you had to deliver things to Loki, enough so that you don't have to tremble everytime you meet.

But sitting this close, in a close space, alone, this was definitely the first time.

And it'll be the last if you're not careful.

The silence was suffocating, for you at least. You have almost jumped in your sit when he flipped a page in the book.

A minute passed and you are so closed to jumping out of the window. The room was too quiet. Making small talk won't be bad at times like this right?

"It's a nice book."

Wow. If you could, you would have hit yourself in the back of your head. Great thinking, really.

He merely nodded and the silence dragged once again.

"There's a lot of useful information in it."

Stop, just stop. Please stop digging your own grave.

"That's why it's a shame to be drooled on."

"I do not drool!"

In the distant, the sound of funeral bells rang clear in your head. The life you lived was good. Your friend will remember what flower you wanted to be placed on your coffin, and she can have your house, maybe even your-

Before you could complete your will, you heard a smallest of chuckle from the other god.

Huh?

You stared at Thor and sure enough, there's the tiniest arch in his lips. His eyes remains on the pages but - shit - has he always been this pretty?

Between the brief greetings and quick glances, it was hard to appreciate his beauty. Though mostly blank, his face was clear and smooth. Not a single blemish as one might expect from a god who knew battlefield as his home. He was no Aphrodite nor comparable to Paris, but he himself held a beauty of his own. You couldn't quite decide on if it was the light from the window or it was simply him that was glowing?

His neck flexed in the smallest notion as he read. The muscles of his shoulders were relaxed against the table.

Heavens. Those muscles.

You blushed on your thoughts. You tear your eyes away from his physique, the wooden table suddenly very interesting.

"It is rare to see you without Mjolnir, Thor-sama."

"I don't bring him when I read."

"Him?" The question lingered on your head. Was Thor one of 'those' people?

"Do you read often?"

"No."

"Are you interested in herbal medicine?"

"No."

"Is that so?" Your answer was awkward just as the air around you. But to the very least, the tension have eased out knowing that he didn't obliterate you so far.

"Um, Thor-sama?"

Curse you and your need to fill in the silence.

"May I ask why you are reading a book about witchcraft? You do not seem the type to be interested in it." Realizing what you said was potentially insulting, you quickly apologized, eyes wide as you tried to explain. "Not that you don't look like it! What I mean is, um, - that." You stumbled over your own words with nervousness but he simply kept his eyes in the book, barely even glancing at you.

"... give you." His voice made you stop with your gibberish. Catching only the tail-end of his words, you looked at him questioningly. Only then did you realize that it has almost been a minute since he flipped a page, almost as if your question startled him as well.

"Ma-may you repeat that?"

There was a short pause before his answer came.

"So that I know what to give you."

Furrowed brows and confused eyes marked your features.

"So that I know what to give you."

His words repeated in your head, like an stubborn echo inside a cavern.

"I know what to give you."

"Give you."

"Give."

Oh shit.

"You're the Persistent Santa?!" The chair you previously sat on collided with the floor with a loud "thud". Hands planted heavily against the table, you casted accusing eyes to him.

Before any other words were uttered, your senses made its way back to your head like a harsh slap of water. You just yelled at the strongest Norse god. You might as well have dug your own hole and painted your tombstone.

But all fear and confusion left you as you stare at the fore mentioned god. He was not glancing down anymore but instead his eyes found its place opposite of your direction. And if one would look close, really intently stared, the faintest of red could be seen blooming in his cheeks.

"He-he's blushing."

Thor is blushing.

"You shouldn't be shouting here." His voice did not have the same air of threat and authority it usually holds. If your ears were right, it almost sounded like he was embarrassed.

Silently picking up the fallen chair, you sat down with your eyes burning holes the robe infront of you. Which you have almost forgotten was there.

Thinking back to the times you interacted with him, one word would usually come to mind. Quiet. He would acknowledge your presence or sometimes even greet you during the times you bump into one another but has never to made a conversation. Compared to Loki, you have always figured that maybe he was just more refined.

It wasn't until you heard his tale from your friend that you have gathered a sort of fear towards him. You knew how gods are, how vile and wrathful they are. And a god of his caliber could wipe you with a single flicker of his finger.

You would now bow and act more politely to him. Going as far as trying to avoid any contact with him.

But now sitting a mere foot apart, you felt no threat. No danger. And only then did you realize that you have never really felt any danger to begin with. When he speaks, he did not have the murderous aura that they claim to choke anyone. He had never given you any reason to fear him, it was only you who decided to believed other's opinion.

"I'm sorry."

As if a trigger, his head turned to you upon hearing your timid voice but you dare not look at his eyes.

"You don't-"

"Not just for yelling."

Where did you get the courage to cut him off? You do not know. But, still with the false bravery, you continued.

"I mean, I have been very rude to you for a long time,"

"You have never been mean to me and I only returned the gesture by fearing you without any basis of."

With every fiber of yours screaming otherwise, you turned to look at him in the eye.

"I'm really sorry."

The longer you look into those golden eyes the more the heat on your neck spreads to your cheeks.

Guess his hair isn't the only thing red now.

"It's nothing," surprisingly it was Thor who turned away first. This time though, you eyes remained on him with a small smile. Youu have been missing out on so many things. But now, you have the eternity to catch up. And you're sure as hell you will.

"Thor-sama."

"Just Thor."

You laughed a bit, a sound that you did not notice brought a smile on his own lips.

"Why did you give me those gift anyway."

He turned his head to the other direction, but your keen eyes could see his tainted red ears.

"Loki said gifts were a good way to get close to someone." You grinned.

"I should have known better than listen to him."

His words dragged a loud laugh from you. The thought of him asking Loki, of all people for an advice was something you thought you'll never hear. And the small pout in his voice upon the next statement both brought you giddiness and butterflies.

Your hands instinctively covered your mouth, but still the sounds slipped through. And if you would have opened your eyes that moment, you would have seen the adoration in Thor's as he watches you.

Yes, it was embarrassing to ask his cousin for advice and finding those herbs was a hard task. But if seeing you like this, with lips arch into the most beautiful smile he have seen filled with happiness he once thought he couldn't bring you, then he would do it a thousand more.

Bonus:

Outside the closed doors, Loki grinned at himself. Trying to get you two was a pain with how standoffish Thor was by this was the most entertainment he had for a long time.

"What the hell are you doing?" It was one of Odin's crow that screeched from beging, as they watch the god smiling, and by experience it never means well.

"Oh nothing," he sing-songed. He floated pass his uncle but never before saying,

"Hope you're ready for grandkids!"

"Huh?"

But they did not receive an answer, only a chorus of laughter from the god of mischief as he drift away.

If you don't know who's Circe is, she's a witch in the Greek mythology that turned sailors into pigs. Odysseus met her during his travel home from the Trojan war. She turned his men into pig too. And it's a book of Madeline Miller too! You should really read her books.

This was requested by @tenshi-san and I apologize that I might have strayed too far from your prompt. I really hope I did your husbando some justice. He was so hard to write because that only thing I can see him as is bored😂. But I hope you still like it!

#record of ragnarok #shuumatsu no valkyrie #Thor #Loki #SnV Thor #fanfiction #x reader #snv x reader

113 notes · View notes

anystalker707 · 3 years

Text

You wish (2/2)

Part 1

Pairing: Frank Iero x [non-binary, afab] Reader Word counting: ~ 4 000 Genre: Smut / Enemies to lovers Summary: After finding out they have feelings for each other, (y/n) lets Frank drive them home to spend the night together.

Requested on Wattpad

The night is agitated, but ends up going by relatively fast. Even with having sorted things out between us, Frank and I don't talk a lot – our interaction is limited by us sharing looks now and then while I work and either smiling at each other or blushing and laughing.

One of Frank's bandmates approaches him at some point, asking him about leaving. When I understand what is going on, I can feel my heart tightening in my chest and even pause the drink I'm preparing, unable to tear my attention away from the two. Frank shakes his head, muttering something I can't understand, but it doesn't seem like he will be standing up due to how he leans forward on the counter. A relieved sigh escapes my lips with it and I end up just falling back to reality when Frank turns to look at me – I'm the one to blush this time, quickly returning to shaking the drink before pouring it in the glass.

"God fucking finally!" Pete's voice echoes through the empty club when the doors are closed and only the staff – and Frank – is left. Frank and I can't help but to laugh.

"I'll be right back," I tell Frank and walk to the back room, grabbing my things. I actually stand there for a moment, thinking about everything that happened, and I can't hold back a chuckle at it, burying my face in my hands as feeling it heating up. Lowering my hands, I see Pete there, staring at me with the widest grin on his face and sending me a look. "Shut up." I narrow my eyes at him, becoming impossibly more flustered.

"I didn't even say anything!" He throws his hands in the air in a defensive manner.

"You were thinking!" I playfully punch his arm when walking by, making him chuckle, and throw my bag over my shoulder. "Bye, Pete!" I walk out of the room and am surprised by Frank standing by the doorway, but just nod towards the exit.

It's cold outside, making me chill despite my jacket shielding me from most of the cold air that embraces us in the moment we step out of the place through the back door. There aren't many people around and it's not a surprise, judging by how late it currently is. Almost fucking three in the morning. Quite relaxing, actually, if you ask me.

I'm about to start making my way down the street when I feel Frank tugging me back by the back of my jacket. "My car," he says and I groan in response despite turning to walk towards the other direction, following him. He breathes a chuckle and looks at me with a small pout, glancing at my lips. I roll my eyes before pecking his lips. It makes him grin pleased and wrap an arm around me to pull me closer and I can't help but to chuckle.

Frank opens the door for me and I playfully glare at him as getting in, thankful that it's warmer in the car. "You're being too nice, Iero!"

"Invested in getting some ass!" he calls on his way over to the other side and I snort a laugh, bringing a hand up to cover my face; I can also hear him laughing as getting in. "Where to, love?" He starts the car and glances at me, pulling up to the road.

"Down the main street, green building right next to a bakery," I tell him, adjusting my bag by my feet. He mutters something in response and I hum, observing him for a moment before I look back, seeing a guitar case across the back seats and it makes me remember of Mikey telling me that Frank plays the guitar, what also gives me a vague memory of him saying he, Frank and Gerard are in a band together with another guy. Cool. I might ask them about it later.

I sigh as leaning back against the seat and observing Frank again; he must sense it because he glances at me, raising an eyebrow. "You do walk for quite a bit, huh?"

"'M used to it." I shrug. It's not like it's a walk longer than fifteen minutes, but once in a while I get a lift or come by car. This is not relevant, nonetheless. My eyes wander around the car for a moment and I can't help but to smirk a bit to myself as having an idea; I reach a hand to touch his thigh.

Frank is about to say something when the touch makes his breath hitch in his throat and tense up. He remains silent as, with the lack of complaints, I let my hand wander further into the inside of his thigh and he tenses up again in the same moment his cheeks turn red and he tries to hold back a sound, but I can still faintly listen to it.

"(Y/n)," he mutters under his breath.

I hold back a chuckle, grinning. "What? Do you like this?" I slip my hand under his shirt and follow along the waistband of his pants. He's grumbling to himself until a groan escapes his lips with my fingers slipping past the waistband of his boxers.

"I'm driving, (y/n)!" He sounds so desperate, almost a whine, that I can't help but finally to let out a chuckle, shaking my head to myself as I pull my hand away, muttering about how funny his reaction was – it earns me a playful glare as the bright red tone continues taking over his cheeks and his pants clearly start to tent up.

Soon enough, the car comes to a stop and he looks at me like if waiting for something, but all I do is to leave the car and start walking towards the building. I can hear the car door throwing shut seconds; Frank shows up by my side seconds later. I fish my keys from inside the bag as I start walking up the stairs. We climb the steps fast, with a shared urgency; Frank has his hands in front of his crotch just in case we run into someone. His expectant gazes are obvious – I can see him looking at me from the corners of my eyes –; however, I act like if nothing was happening with the pure intention of seeing his reaction and the frustration that manifests itself through his tense silence is certainly entertaining.

I'm suddenly thankful for having decided to clean my apartment earlier today. I leave my shoes by the door after closing it behind us, locking it again, and Frank takes the hint to do the same while I put my bag away.

Whatever Frank was going to tell me, the words are lost due to how I press my lips to his without any warning, cupping his face. It takes him a few seconds to kiss back, sharing the same urgency as I do and parts his lips after feeling my tongue gliding along his bottom lip. His hands eventually wrap themselves around my hips, grip slowly becoming tighter around them, until slipping under my shirt and letting his thumbs rub circles into the bare skin. He suddenly pulls me closer to him, closing the space between us, making a sigh escape my lips with it.

"C'mon," I mutter against his lips as starting to walk back towards my room. None of us want to let go, what results in us stumbling down the hall while sharing messy kisses that don't really last for longer than five seconds. We chuckle quietly when we almost trip on our feet, thankfully able to hold onto the wall before losing our balance.

I step back into my bedroom and turn the lights on, watching Frank follow – he rolls his bottom lip between his teeth, nibbling down on it lightly while watching me discarding my jacket.

"Damn, babe," he says in a low and hoarse voice, taking a step closer. I hum softly against his lips, taking his bottom lip between mine, but we're soon forced to interrupt it to get rid of my shirt and I move to do the same to his, smiling as I place my hands on his shoulders and push him back to sit down on the bed. His eyes follow every movement of mine as Frank pushes himself further down the bed and I climb on top of it, only stopping when I'm straddling his lap.

Frank hums softly and presses a kiss to my stomach before I finally allow myself to sit down, and I lock our lips again, what makes him groan again, giving my thighs a squeeze. His calloused fingertips are rough against my skin while his hands trail up my torso, their warmth making little bumps rise in my skin with them wandering around until fidgeting with the hem of my bra.

I open my eyes lightly after breaking the kiss, meeting his gaze, though still letting our lips linger together as I nod and move to help him with taking it off, throwing it to the floor just like we did with our shirts.

Before Frank can do anything, I place my hands on his chest to slowly push him back against the mattress and take my moment to observe his tattoos, letting my fingers trace some of them but the urgency doesn't let me take too long with it and I'm soon leaning down. I peck his lips and press kisses on my way down to his neck, nibbling and sucking lightly on the skin when I finally stop. His throat vibrates against my cheek with the sounds I snatch from him with it, also letting one of my hands wander around his torso absentmindedly.

"Fuck, (y/n)," he mutters, interrupted by a moan when I let my hand wander too low down his body. I can't help but to chuckle against his skin as moving to a spot by the base of his neck while slipping my hand in his pants, palming him lightly through his boxers.

He lets me do palm him for a moment until he starts becoming impatient at noticing I won't go any further than that, pushing his hips up, another moan escaping his lips with it. "Fuck— Stop teasing," he breathes, bringing a hand to my head to make me pull away so I can see his glare. I chuckle.

Moving away from Frank, I bring myself back up to undo my pants and remove them along with my underwear while Frank, after spending a moment observing me, does the same.

Frank smiles a bit at me as he presses his lips to mine once again, being the one to make me lie back down on the mattress, taking my bottom lip between his teeth and nibbling down on it while he adjusts his position between my legs, hand grazing my thigh lightly. I let out a pleased groan, gasping when I feel one of his hands around my breast, massaging it lightly. "Fuck," I mutter, tangling my fingers with his hair.

His eyes meet mine while he pecks my lips before he starts to give attention to my collarbones, teeth gently pulling on the skin as he balances the pressure just right between the pain and the pleasure and I sigh softly with it, leaning my head back as letting him.

Another curse escapes my lips as I feel Frank trailing down, loving the sensation of his lips against my chest and then trailing down my stomach until a bite on my hip has me moaning and arching my back lightly. He chuckles, giving my thighs a squeeze, pressing kisses to my skin in his way back up.

"Hey, babe," he mutters against my lips and I hum softly, feeling his hand trailing up my thigh and diving into the inside of it – I tense up as feeling his hand becoming dangerously close to my heat, just to be left in frustration with it trailing down in the last second. "Why don't you show me what that pretty mouth can do, hm?" His nose brushes against mine softly and he pecks my lips, humming questioningly.

A chill runs down my spine at the thought and I'd squeeze my thighs together if I could, nodding. I pull Frank closer with an arm around his neck, pressing my lips to his as using my free arm to push myself up while he does the same, pulling me along with him.

The kiss is messy, with us trying to know where we are going without breaking it, trying to make it up to our needs at the same time.

We only step apart once up to our feet and Frank's dark, lust filled eyes follow me as I drop to my knees and look up at him, wrapping a hand around him and moving it in an agonizingly slow pace, free hand resting on his thigh. "It's so amusing seeing you like this, y'know?" I grin. "Every time we talked, I thought you wanted to jump on my throat or watch me choke and die," I chuckle, watching it as Frank is torn out between the annoyance and the pleasure, a breath caught in his throat.

A shaky exhale escapes Frank's nose as he has his lips pressed together in a thin line. "Why don't you do something better with that pretty mouth of yours, huh?" He raises an eyebrow at me and takes a hold of my jaw, fingers digging into the skin in a manner that I can't help but to open my mouth with a groan. "Like that..." He mutters quietly as guiding himself past my lips.

I raise an eyebrow at Frank, unamused, but he seems more focused on watching himself as he mutters something under his breath and, out of revenge, I hollow my cheeks out of sudden as taking all of him into my mouth, what has a sudden moan escaping his lips, tensing up simultaneously.

"Fuck," Frank says in a high-pitched tone, voice tight, as I can feel his hands on the back of my head, tugging lightly on my hair as pushing his hips forward. His breath hitches, and a moan follows suit whilst I start moving my head, looking up at him and it's honestly fun seeing that punk posture turning into something completely different now. I take a hold of his dick, swirling my tongue around his tip and humming around him, entertained by how he gasps and tenses up with it.

"You—" He is never able to finish his sentence with how I suck on the tip before slowly inching down his length and hollowing my cheeks once again, trying to control my gag reflex once I reach the base.

The mix of precum and drool that had been pooling down in the corners of my lips finally start trailing down my chin when I decide to stop teasing and move my head in a decent rhythm that has moans coming from him steadily. "So..." Frank breathes, interrupted by a moan, pushing his hips forward lightly and trying to build a rhythm with it. "So fucking beautiful, love," he groans, making me pull off before he pushes back into my mouth and I can see the exact moment in which his release starts building because of the fucking expression on his face when he sees the look I sent him.

"Fuck," he gasps, "hold on, hold on," he cries, biting down on his lip although making me pull away. My lips part into a grin as I watch him throwing his head back and squeezing his eyes shut while he holds onto the base of his dick for a moment, breathing heavily, certain pride swelling in my chest.

I stand up and Frank notices it. "Get on the bed," he tells me as wrapping his hands around my hips and I raise an eyebrow at him.

"No, no, you're not the only one getting all the fun!" I glare and take a step back to sit down on the edge of the bed. "C'mon, I want you on your knees," I say as pointing to the ground, and watch it as his cheeks gain a red tone again, but he does as I said, nonetheless. "What a pretty boy," I tease as cupping his face and making him lean his head up so I can press a kiss to his lips – he hums with it, placing his hands firmly on my thighs, moving closer and pulling them apart.

"And who do you think you are to talk to me like that?" He sticks his bottom lip out, looking at me up and down with a disdain that has me snorting, rolling my eyes.

"All barking, but no biting, huh?" I smirk a bit as running my fingers through his hair. "I only see you complaining."

Frank's eyes narrow at me, but a verbal response never comes as he sits back on his legs and I hum softly with feeling his hot breath over my sensitive parts, biting down on my lip.

In an opposite to the teasing I expected, Frank presses his mouth to my folds forcefully, tongue slipping out and parting them in a way he licks up from my entrance to my clit and makes a shiver run down my spine as I pull onto his hair out of reflex, snatching a groan from him.

"Damn, Frank," I groan as pulling him closer with my grip on his hair.

Crescent marks are left behind as Frank sinks his fingers in my thighs to a point his short nails dig in and he adjusts his grip on them before it happens again and his tongue is just working so well, wandering around before finding its way up to my clit. A breathy moan escapes my lips with it, interrupted by a gasp at the feeling of him sucking on it then he's pulling away, just to dive back in, tongue flicking against the bundle of nerves in a way I can feel the arousal starting to pool down in my lower stomach.

"Hell— Frank, damn," I breathe, not caring about how desperate my voice sounds because it just feels so good. The moans almost escape my lips without me being able to control it and I grip at Frank's hair, tugging on it lightly and pulling him closer at the feeling of the vibrations his groans cause and I'm practically melting under his touch as he voluntarily sinks his face deeper, in a way I need to hold myself back from rocking my hips.

"S-Stop," I stutter as letting go of his hair and tapping his shoulder lightly, feeling myself getting dangerously close to my release. He does pull away and licks his lips as looking up at me and it genuinely doesn't really help. I groan as breathing heavily.

Once I'm able to recompose myself enough, I glance back as moving to the middle of the bed, what seems to be an immediate invitation for Frank to follow me, soon hovering over me and pressing his lips to mine. The taste isn't exactly the best thing, but it's just a detail under all the arousal that makes the room's atmosphere so thick along with all the need and urgency we share.

"Goddamn it," Frank mutters as pulling away. "Fucking— Hold on," he says and pecks my lips a last time before he moves to grab his pants from the ground and comes back with a condom in hand. He kneels down between by legs as he rips the wrapper open with his teeth before sliding the condom on and there we are again, lips pressed against each other in the most urgent kiss so far, with his hands gripping tightly at my hips while I can feel him against the inside of my thigh.

"Hurry up, dumbass," I tell him, biting down on his bottom lip and pulling on it lightly, while throwing my arms around his neck.

"So impatient, fucking hell," he curses under his breath, both of us gazing at each other through half-lidded eyes.

"So slow, fucking hell. Do you need instructions, sweetheart?" I mock and he rolls his eyes, but I'm soon sighing softly with the feeling of him against my entrance. Both of us let out a quiet moan at the feeling of him slipping in, slowly, grip gradually becoming tighter around my hips, and more moans are slipping from my throat as he doesn't even give me a moment to adjust, starting to move his hips.

"Still slow, sweetheart?" Frank asks sarcastically against my lips and I groan, pulling lightly at the hair on the back of his neck, only to snatch throaty moan from him.

"Fuck you," I say and pause because of a moan, "shut up and do your job." I bring him down to press our lips together again while wrapping my legs around his hips, moaning at the change of angle.

Frank does seem to take my words as the next snap of his hips has me gasping as pulling away, throwing my head back and arching my back at his harsher thrusts and how he seems to shift around until finding the angle that has more sounds spilling from my lips. My exposed neck is an immediate call for Frank and I can soon feel his mustache and stubble ticking against the skin at how he starts pressing kisses and nibbling softly on it, what adds up to the pleasure.

Due to the previous play, it's no new that it doesn't take long for us to get close to releasing. My nails dragging up Frank's back probably leave marks that I'll be tracing later, whereas it won't be much different regarding how he gripped on my hips and now one of his hands hold onto my thigh, fingers sinking into the skin, while using his free one to hold himself up.

"Fuck, (y/n)—" Frank breathes, bringing his mouth to next to my ear and hearing all the moans that come from him makes the knot in my lower stomach even tighter. "'M close, love," he groans.

"Me— Me too," I manage to say.

Frank pauses for a moment to adjust his position, probably so he can have more support, but it's completely worth it; he starts moving again, the new position allowing his thrusts to be heavier and faster and also allowing him to slip his hand between us and the feeling of his thumb rubbing furiously against my already abused clit has me tightening around him and moaning his name as coming before I can realize, nails sinking in his back as my mind goes momentarily blank.

"Frank— Frank, fuck," I whine softly as holding tightly onto him and I can feel my thighs quivering around him with it.

A loud, deep groan comes from Frank as his hips start to stutter and his moans turn into nonsense mumbled against my skin, his grip on my thigh becomes tighter, but all it does is to snatch another pleased sigh from me. He is breathing heavily when he pulls away, muttering something as he discards the condom and soon comes back.

"Damn," Frank breathes, resting his head on my chest and pressing a kiss to it, "'sure hope it wasn't a one-night thing, huh," he says in a serious tone and I can't help but to smile.

"Of course not," I tell him with a hum, still breathing heavily. I can feel the tiredness already falling over me. "Only if you aren't an asshole anymore," I tease, what makes him groan playfully; I smile and pull his hair back, pressing a kiss to his nose.

"I know where you live, (y/n), think better about it," he jokes and I can't help but to laugh.

"Fuck you and shut up, 'm tired," I tap his shoulder lightly. A groan comes from him, but he does relax against me with a sigh, pressing his face to my neck.

#frank iero #smut #x reader #reader insert #fanfic #fan fiction #frank iero imagine #mcr #mcr imagine #mcr x reader #mcr smut #emo #emocore #mikey way #gerard way #ray toro #imagine #my post

84 notes · View notes

tomtenadia · 3 years

Text

A Little Braver - Chapter 4

So, chapter 4 is finally here.

It has a few funny moments but it also has angst.

This fic has so much more angst that i originally planned.

Anyway... enjoy it.

-----------

The drive to the hospital did not take long but once inside they noticed the waiting room was swamped.

“Whitethorn, this is pointless,” she said when he placed her on an empty chair “we’ll be here for hours.”

“I don’t care, we are getting that knee checked.” His tone did not admit any protest from her.

Aelin grunted “I hate you.”

“Is that news? Tell me something I don’t know.” Rowan took a seat on the empty seat beside her then took her injured leg and lifted it on his lap. Aelin winced.

It was three hours later when Rowan started to loose his patience “that woman came after us and she went in already.” He protested a bit too loudly for Aelin’s taste. Why was he caring about her wellbeing all of a sudden?

“Maybe she is worse than a busted knee.” She shrugged but he glared at her.

“She walked into the A&E on her own two feet. You just dealt with that damn inferno with that busted knee.” He protested and the hint of pride in his voice moved something inside her.

“I don’t need the red carpet.”

“Some fucking attention for people who bust their asses to save other people lives would be appreciated.” His tone got a bit louder still. Rowan did not seem the type to cause a scene but he seemed a bit too annoyed and to be honest she did not know much about the guy. She just hoped his military training would kick in and restrain himself.

“Doctor save lives too.”

He grunted and stood and Aelin braced for the worst. She saw him walk with purpose to the reception desk with perfect military stride. She would have laughed if it wasn’t that she was scared of what he would do.

She saw him talk to one of the nurses behind the nurses station. A few times his arm pointed at her and she made herself small and invisible.

Then she went back spying on him and studied his posture and gasped. The man was flirting with the nurse. Stick up in the arse captain was flirting with the nurse to get her in early. She was dumbfounded. She could not believe that he had it in him.

He came back five minutes later with a smug face “Someone will come for you soon.”

Aelin’s mouth fell open “Did you just flirt with the nurse to have me seen earlier?”

“I did not such thing,” and he looked away, scanning the waiting room.

“She is looking over here. I think she is interested in you and is now wondering how it would feel to bag an airforce captain.”

Rowan huffed “not interested.”

“She is pretty.”

“Not my type…”

“Oh come on grampa, she could even play sexy nurse with you.”

Rowan rolled his eyes “you really are a menace.”

She was about to add a snarky remark when a doctor stopped in front of them “Aelin Galathynius?”

Aelin’s head snapped up “I am here.”

“I am doctor Yrene Westfall. Follow me.”

Westfall? Was she Chaol’s wife?

“Did you say Westfall? Is Chaol your husband?”

“Yes. Do you know him?”

Aelin nodded “I am a firefighter, we work a lot with the police. He was at the embankment fire tonight.”

“He told me, apparently it was hell. His own words.”

“It was bad.” Aelin stood and swore as sharp pain shoot from her knee up her leg.

“Why did you do that?” Rowan protested and lifted her again in his arms.

“You are making the nurse jealous.”

“Shut up and let’s follow the nice doctor.”

“Put her down here,” Yrene pointed at an empty bed.

Rowan placed her gently on the bed and stepped at the bottom of it. His hands behind his back.

Yrene lifted the leg of her trousers and had a look at her knee “This look quite bad, why did you wait this long to come to the hospital?”

“I was going to… but then city emergency and all and it slipped my mind.”

Rowan snorted and Aelin glared at him.

“And you walked all day on it?”

“Kinda…”

“You might have made things much worse.”

Aelin leaned back on the pillow and sighed. She knew and with the performance review on its way it had been very stupid of her.

“How did it happen?”

“We were in the middle of a drill this morning. The explosion happened, the shockwave made me loose my balance and I fell down the ladder face first and my left knee took the impact.”

“You might have broken your kneecap. I need to send you for an x-ray and see what is the situation.” She went away and came back five minutes later “Someone will come and get you soon. You captain, can wait here until she is back.”

Rowan nodded and pinched her big toe when he noticed her worried expression “Do you want me to come in and hold your hand?”

“Screw you, Whitethorn.”

He pinched the toe again and his lip quirked up in a tight attempt at a smile.

Aelin wondered if she’ll ever see him smile or even laugh.

The porter came and rolled her bed away. She snatched a last look at Rowan and saw him standing where her bed had been I’ll be here. She saw him mouth to her.

Rowan began pacing back and forth in a very nervous state. His phone pinged and saw a text from Lorcan asking for an update on behalf of her squad. He texted back saying she was getting an x-ray.

He sat down on the chair near where the bed was and took out his phone to scroll through the news of the fire at the warehouses. In one of the articles he saw a great picture of her. She was staring at the inferno in front of her and with her hand she was pointing at something, maybe giving an order. He saved the picture on his phone then went on reading the article flushing with pride at how the journalist had praised her for handling such an emergency with professionalism and doing a great jobs at keeping the victims to a very low level. Turned out they only had lost two workers. Considering what he had seen he was impressed because it could have been far, far worse. He read a few more articles and almost seethed with rage when a journalist had the courage to criticise the TFD for having a young girl in charge of such an emergency.

It was an hour later when Aelin and Yrene came back. Aelin’s face told him that the news was bad.

“Her kneecap is badly fractured. She will need surgery. I have contacted the orthopaedic surgeon to see if he can squeeze her in tomorrow. Then she will have to stay in the hospital for a few days. Once she gets home she can move around with crutches but it might take up to a month before she will be able to do rehab. The whole thing should last around three months if she cooperates.”

Rowan stared at Aelin and he saw her heartbroken expression.

Once Yrene excused herself saying she was going to get her a room, Rowan moved closer to her.

“Don’t. Don’t you even try and say what you are about to say. I do not need your pity.”

He knew that the idea of not being able to participate in the performance review was killing her. Gods he wanted to hug her again like in her office and offer comfort. But that was a skill he had always been bad at.

“Do you need anything?”

“Yes, being less fucking stupid.” She growled through gritted teeth “I knew that explosion was coming. I knew we had fucked up the exercise and let it run longer than meant to. Aedion and I had planned that explosion. I knew it and I still let it knock me off like a blasted newbie.”

She breathed deeply “I am too stupid to be a captain.”

No, he was not having that.

“Now you are talking shite.” He snarled back. He was not having her accusing herself os something like that. He took out his phone and opened the first article he read. The one with the great picture.

“Captain Galathynius has showed nerves of steel while handling a double fire that could have had catastrophic consequences. She masterfully deployed two teams to tackle emergency after emergency without ever backing down from the constant challenge. And when it seemed that the situation was taking a turn for the worst, she pulled a rabbit out of the hat and convinced the stiff necked airforce posh boys to join and help tackle a raging fire, far too big for three fire engines. Captain Galathynius and the two teams deserve more recognition for their incredible job. Far more than a pat on the back.

All the firefighters involved tonight had showed great heroism and excellent skills. Every day these men and women place their lives on the line to keep our city safe. The government should keep it in mind at his next budget review and find in itself to invest in money in services the city deeply deserves like firefighters, the police and the health services instead of flushing it down the drain to fund fancy planes built for destruction.”

“Uh…. He really does not like you guys.”

“I don’t care,” said Rowan quickly “What matters is what she said about you. She doesn’t think you are stupid. And I don’t think it either. This stiff necked posh boy thinks you are amazing.”

“Liar.”

“I am not lying. Why would I? I agree with this woman. You were fucking amazing tonight. All of you. And yes, you deserve far more credit than what you will get.”

His eyes glistened with pride and his words had helped a bit ease her anger.

“So you think I am amazing?”

“I do.” His voice much softer all of a sudden.

Yrene came back in that moment and broke the spell. She had a feeling she and the captain were about to have a moment but the magic had passed.

“I have a room for you.” And she had a wheelchair with her.

Rowan grabbed Aelin again and lifted her into the wheelchair and offered to push her.

“Chaol was my saviour tonight,” she giggled while Rowan rolled the wheelchair along the corridor following the doctor.

“How so?”

“He knows I hate reporters. So as soon as he saw a few coming at me he came and saved me before I could punch them. Plus, he and his men did an outstanding job at crowd control. I know it doesn’t seem like a lot, but when you have people running terrified from a building on fire it can end badly. And they also kept an eye to all the curious monster who come and have a peek and film it to post it social media for a five minutes of glory. Police let us concentrate on the emergency without worrying about what’s happening in the background.”

“Thank you for telling me.” The woman smiled at her.

“Make sure you give him an extra cuddle tonight.”

Both Aelin and Yrene burst out laughing.

“I will reward him accordingly, captain.”

They finally reached the elevator and the three got in. Not long after they were in the room and Rowan lifted her in bed. Yrene left them to get her settled in.

“You need clothes, damn it.” He looked around him as if to find an answer in an hospital room.

“My house keys are at the station.”

“Fine I’ll go and get them and grab some clothes for you from your house. Give me the address.”

“No.”

His face turned confused “why? You can’t stay in your uniform.”

“I am not having you in my house, going through my drawers and my clothes.”

Rowan sighed “tell me where you keep t-shirts and shorts and I will just go straight to that one. I am not a creep I swear.”

“Fine.” She texted him the address “my keys are in the black messenger bag in my locker. There is a small pocket at the front. They are attached to the hook. Actually take the whole bag with you. I have a charger and other stuff in there that I might need.”

“Ok, I’ll be back as soon as possible.”

“Captain?”

“Yes?”

“Thank you.”

He nodded and before leaving he turned once more “you could start calling me Rowan, by the way.”

“Thank you, Rowan.”

He left thinking that his name on her lips was the most beautiful sound ever.

He reached the fire station not long after. He met Ress in the corridor.

“Captain.”

“Ress, isn’t it?”

The man nodded.

“How’s Aelin?

“She will need surgery. She is not happy as you could imagine.”

“Damn.”

A tall man joined them a moment later. His uniform was white.

“This is chief Havilliard.” Said Ress.

So that was the young Havilliard.

“You must be captain Whitethorn.”

Rowan nodded.

“Thank you for your assistance tonight.”

Rowan shook his head “it was Aelin’s idea. The credit goes to her. I just follow orders.”

“How is she by the way?” And Rowan could see concern in the man’s eyes.

“She will need surgery. Her knee is busted pretty badly. They are trying to book her for tomorrow. I am heading to her place to get her some clothes.”

“I will update the squad.” Dorian said “I will also try and beg the board to postpone the review. Aedion will be home tomorrow but he will be off for a week and Aelin looks like she will be out of commission for a while. And I need them to train the team. They are my golden duo.”

Rowan took an immediate liking to the chief.

Once Dorian took his leave, Ress took Rowan to their changing rooms and pointed to Aelin’s locker.

“Tell her that the team is behind her and that she was awesome tonight. Also let us know where she is in the hospital so we can come and visit.”

“Room 252 in the orthopaedic ward.”

“Thank you sir.”

Ress left him. He grabbed Aelin’s bag and his eyes spotted the pictures attached to the door and the walls. He saw some pictures with a man and he had a feeling his face was familiar. The photos portrayed a couple in love and for a very brief instant a very strange emotion he could not decipher set into him and then it quickly went away with the same speed it came.

He ignored it. Slammed the locker shut and left the station.

Fifteen minutes later he reached her house and let himself in. The house was gorgeous and very modern. He stepped into the living room and noticed the wall were painted a light yellow giving the room much more brightness. He smiled at the insane number of bookcases bursting with books. So, she was a book worm. Good, something to talk about if they had a chance to have a conversation that contained less insults and vitriol.

He walked to the door she had indicated and reached her bedroom and froze for a moment. He knew he had her permission but for an instant he felt as if he was invading her privacy.

The room was painted a pastel blue and a huge bed was was in the middle. At one end he noticed the drawer and walked to it and froze when he noticed there were two middle drawers.

Shit, she had said the middle drawer but which one. Damn, he had promised.

He opened the top one and slammed it shut when he saw the content. That was her underwear drawer. He turned and leaned against the piece of furniture. Bras… 38A she had said and now his treacherous brain was picturing the piece of clothing filled by…

“Damn.”

He opened the other one and breathed relieved when he noticed t-shirts and shorts. Good. He grabbed a few of her TFD t-shirts and placed them in the duffel bag at the bottom of her bed.

His phone went off. It was Aelin.

“What?”

“Gee, you sound grumpy.”

“What do you need m’lady?” His voice dripping with fake pleasantness.

“I am giving you permission to open the second drawer from the top and grab me some underwear as well, please.”

“You are kidding me.” Aelin could clearly hear the panic in his voice.

“Ro, I am not. I have an emergency and I will soon need new knickers. So yes, get in that drawer and grab me my underwear.”

His hand ran through his hair in a nervous gesture.

“Also, there is a small convenience store around the corner, could you please buy me tampons?”

Rowan almost choked.

“I am sorry what?”

“You heard me. I assume you had been with other women before. You know we get periods, right?”

“Fine, I will phone you back once I am in the shop. I have no idea what to buy.”

“Just don’t blush too much.”

And he could hear the grin in her voice.

He hung up and breathed deeply and opened the drawer. The selection was… incredible.

He picked a few sports bra thinking that for an hospital stay they would be the better option. Definitely the lacy one were not proper. He rummaged a bit and looked again for something more sober when all of a sudden he found in his hands something that had little or no use as underwear but his treacherous mind painted some very sexy pictures.

Damn, that was torture. He grabbed a nice selection of the sober pieces and closed the drawer from hell in relief. He stuffed everything in the bag and walked out, in desperate need of fresh air.

Next stop he drove to the convenience store and braced himself for the next task. He walked in and sneaked to the correct section feeling like a perv for lingering in a section where he clearly did not belong to. He looked at the boxes and he had no idea that there were so many choices. He phoned her.

“Oh, you are still alive.”

“I am in the shop. Which one do you need?” He almost growled.

“Tampons.” She said matter of factly.

“I am a bloke, Fireheart. I have no idea of what you are talking about.”

He heard her sigh “the ones that looks like bullets.”

“Ok, which type?”

“At the bottom they have guidelines with drops. One with two drops and one with three. Actually make it two each.”

“Does the brand matter?”

“I am not fussed.”

“Okay. I got it.”

“I owe you another one.”

“That’s two now.”

“Fine, fine, Buzzard.”

“What?”

“I’ll tell you later, get your arse back here.”

“So bossy.”

He hang up and had a look at the brands. She had said she was not fussed but he had decided to get her the expensive ones, hoping it meant they were of a better quality as well.

He walked to the counter to pay “For my wife,” he muttered embarrassed, paid and got out quickly.

She owed him big time. Not for the water drop but for this.

When he got back to the hospital he went to her room and dumped the bag on her bed and moved away from her.

“Gee someone is on edge. Did my underwear scare you? The fearless pilot got frightened by lace.”

He scoffed an ignored her.

“Seriously man, never had a girlfriend or a date wearing sexy lingerie for you?”

“Of course.”

“Well, so what’s problem?”

He sat heavily on the chair “I was probably dating the person at the time, which implies other things.” She could still see the embarrassment in his features “you and I are just work partners. It was very weird.”

“Well, at least now you know how big is a 38A.”

The top of his ears turned red. She loved so much to rile him up.

She had look at what he had brought her and was very happy when she noticed he had picked sports bra. He had actually put some thought in it. Then her eyes caught the boxes of tampons “Rowan, these are very expensive.”

“I just thought… you know… better quality, perhaps? More comfortable? I don’t know. Again, I am a bloke.”

She wished she could stand and kiss him. He had been amazing. She never had put Sam through such torture. He would have probably died at the idea of buying her feminine products.

“I am very grateful. For everything.”

He gave her a smile. It never reached his eyes but the effort was there her heart fluttered at the precious little show of emotion.

He stood “I’ll let you change.” He made to walk away but stopped when he noticed her face.

“You need to use the facilities I guess.”

She nodded.

He lifted her in his arms and walked into the bathroom and deposited her on the loo.

“Let me know when you are done.” He left the room and walked to the corridor and sat on a chair. He took his phone and started browsing some old news about firefighters. He was still thinking about the man he saw in the picture in her locker. He had seen that face in the news.

He searched for a while until he found an article about a fireman called Sam Cortland. He opened and began to read. Shit. Sam and Aelin had been an item for five years and according to the article they had been engaged. He had been a captain at west station. He got killed while fighting a fire in a warehouse. Shit. His hands shook. They had in common more than just books. He pocketed the phone and walked back to the room.

“Are you okay?” He called through the door.

“Almost ready.”

He leaned against the wall and tried to calm down. It had been just over a year. Was she okay?

“I am ready.” He shoot off the wall and opened the door of the bathroom and saw her in her TFD t-shirt. He lifted her in his arms and he never would have wanted to let go of her.

“Back to your bed.”

Her arms were around his neck and it felt as if she lingered like that a bit longer on purpose.

Or maybe he had just imagined.

“Do you need painkillers? Something to eat?”

Aelin shook her head “I am officially fasting. My surgery has been scheduled for tomorrow at 9.”

“That’s great.”

“I am a bit nervous.”

He sat down on the bed, just in front of her. Her hands were on her lap. He took her hand by grasping just the tip of the fingers “I can stay with you. I can be here when you wake up, or I can call someone else whose company you enjoy more.”

Aelin squeezed his hand back. She wished she had the strength to tell him that somehow she had enjoyed his company very much in the recent hours. But things were still very weird between them and she was positive he still did not like her.

Then she looked up and saw his eyes staring at her and realised that maybe she was wrong. In those beautiful green eyes of his she had noticed a spark of emotion, albeit for a fleeting moment.

“Keep me company, please.” He nodded and sat back on the chair.

They chatted amicably. She had told her about the station and her friends, then he reported that Lorcan was officially smitten by Elide and the two started making plans to set up the two of them.

At her first yawn, Rowan ordered her to go to bed. He tucked her in and went back to his seat.

When he woke up the next morning it was pretty early. He stood and stretched his back, sore from a night asleep on a chair. Aelin was still asleep so he sneaked out of the room and went in search of the cafeteria for a coffee. Then he had a look at himself in one of the doors and noticed he was still in uniform, now a mess, and a shadow of stubble on his face. His academy CO would have his head for walking around in such horrible state while in uniform. He shrugged, got his coffee and went back to the room. Jotted down a note for Aelin. He needed to go home, take a shower and get fresh clothes. He would be back by the time she returned from surgery.

On his way home he phoned Lorcan to give him an update on his whereabouts. He asked also for a few days off to help Aelin and the man agreed. Rowan snorted. Being in love was doing miracles on the old bastard.

He got home, relaxed, took quite a long shower and eventually he had breakfast and caught up with the news and saw that the big fire was still making the headlines. Then a photo caught his attention. Apparently the community had turned in support of the fire stations. They had flocked in front of the government building protesting in light of the new spending budget. Many of signs called for a cut in military spending and to give due value to corps such as firefighters and police. He realised that he would have probably been there as well if it wasn’t that his presence would guarantee him being kicked out of the force immediately. He had been disgusted when he saw how much the airforce got for the repairs. So much more than asked and then Aelin and the guys had to beg for a second engine. Yes, he was in the airforce but he did not agree with the amount of money that often got thrown at them. He eventually got dressed and headed back to the hospital but once he arrived he spotted a few reporters.

“Bloody leeches.”

He tried to walk unnoticed, but alas, his silver hair was not the most inconspicuous of traits.

One woman blocked his path and flung the microphone at him “Captain, how does it feel to save the day?”

Rowan looked at the woman puzzled. How on earth did they know who he was? He had been on a plane the night of the fire.

“You and your team stopped the fires. Without you, the firefighters would have failed.”

Anger. Fiery anger surged through him in a savage wave.

“I think you have read the news wrong.” He tried to calm down “The real heroes are the firefighters,” he shouted for all the reporters to hear “They are the ones who put their lives in danger. They are the ones who jumped into an inferno saving as many workers as possible.” He looked at all of them “over an hour. They were at it for over an hour, with no break, no one to cover for them or take their place. Captain Galathynius supervised the whole thing while injured and barely being able to stand. And you give all the credit to us?” He roared “We showed up because the captain had the amazing idea of using us. We swooped in at the end of the game, when one of the building was almost off. We just dropped some water and you call us heroes?” His hand were now in tight fists “I flew one of those planes and I do not want glory. I do not deserve glory. East and west station do. The police do.” And he walked away furious. Bastards. He hoped that someone passed the interview live, so his real words would pass on. He did not trust reporters.

He ran upstairs and when he arrived he noticed Aelin in bed and half asleep. He gave her a big smile.

“Hey you, tight-pants.”

He chuckled and sat beside her “how do you feel?”

“My hand moves funny.” She said moving her hand in front of her face and Rowan realised she was still quite drugged up from the surgery.

She was quite funny.

“Your hair is white.”

He brushed his hair with his hand “do you like it?”

She gave him a goofy smile “you are sooooo pretty.”

“Oh thank you. No one has called me pretty in a very long time.” He took her hand in his.

“I have a secret” she said and placed a finger in front of her mouth.

“Can I hear it?”

“Yes. But don’t tell the captain.” Who did she think she was talking to?

“I won’t, I promise.” He played along.

“I think I like him. A lot.”

For a brief instant something flashed in her eyes and Rowan had a feeling she was quite lucid.

He jumped off the bed in terror.

“I like him a lot, but he hates me.”

Sadness. That was definitely sadness in her voice. He took a step back.

She turned her head to the side.

“I really, really do.” And he saw her close her eyes.

He took another step back and walked out of the room. Once outside he ran to the car and leaned against it closing his eyes. Her words kept ringing in his ears. And her voice. It had changed so much when she uttered those words. It was her. She was fully lucid when she said it. He placed a hand on his heart and found it racing. He wanted to go back to her and say that he did not hated her. That he… he had no idea what he felt. He groaned and jumped in the car and decided to go for a drive. He had to clear his head.

Lysandra found Aelin with her head turned to the window and she thought she had heard her friend crying.

“Hey you…” Lysandra sat at her side and caressed her friend’s head “what’s wrong?”

Aelin sniffled loudly “I think I have said something stupid.”

“More than usual?” But when Aelin did not laugh she realised it must have been real and bad.

“I woke up from surgery and I felt funny for a while. I think captain Whitethorn was here. I am not sure. And I think…” she stopped, sobbing a bit more “I think I told him I like him.” She finally turned her face to Lysandra “I remember his terror and then he left.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I think the drugs were wearing off and I felt a bit more lucid. I think it was him.”

“Oh darling.”

“He hates me so much that he ran away.” Aelin resumed sobbing heavily “am I such a horrible person?”

Lysandra hugged Aelin tightly and cursed the man. If she got her hands on him he would be a dead man. Or she could unleash Aedion on him. He was just as protective of Aelin.

“He is an idiot. A big tall idiot.” Lys brushed Aelin’s cheek “you need to rest now. You just had surgery.”

“How’s Aedion?”

“At home. Sore and bored already. The doctor gave him a week off but he is not happy. Well, you know him.”

“I heard Dorian mentioning that he might try to get the review postponed. It’s not fair on you guys.”

Aelin sighed “I will still be out.”

“I know, but at least Aedion will be there. One of you at least.” Lysandra reassured her.

Aelin put the tv on and gasped when the tv showed Rowan. It was just outside the hospital.

“What the fuck?”

“Put the volume up,” said Lysandra.

“They were at it for over an hour, with no break, no one to cover for them or take their place. Captain Galathynius supervised the whole thing while injured and barely being able to stand. And you give all the credit to us?” She heard him raise his voice“We showed up because the captain had the amazing idea of using us. We swooped in at the end of the game, when one of the building was almost off. We just dropped some water and you call us heroes?” His hand were not in tight fists “I flew one of those planes and I do not want glory. I do not deserve glory. East and West station do. The police do.” Aelin saw him walk away and she had a feeling that it was when he came back to her. He had normal clothes on. When he took her at the hospital he still had the uniform on.

“That is definitely not the speech of a man who hates you.”

“Lys, not helping.”

Aelin flipped through the channels to see the interview again.

“Don’t think too much about him.”

“Yeah,” Aelin stared at the tv “no worth it, right?”

“Totally.”

Lys kissed her head “Babe I need to go home and tend to Aedion. I don’t want to leave him alone for too long. I know the guys are planning to come as soon as they are off shift, which will be tomorrow morning.”

“Go, I will be fine.” She patted her hand and gave her a tight smile “go and look after Aedion.”

Once Lysandra was out of the room she grabbed her phone and texted Rowan. She waited an hour and tried to phone and realised his phone was off.

“Fine, message received.”

Rowan had driven all the way to the coast to Ilium. It had taken him two hours but it had been worth it. He had spent the afternoon sitting on the beach, his phone switched off. He lay down in the sand and closed the eyes, enjoying the peace of the beach. He almost thought that he’d love to take Aelin there but as soon as his brain said the name he had been ignoring for the past two hours his mood was soured again.

He had fled. Like a coward. She just had surgery and he had left her on her own because he had an issue dealing with his feelings. He was the worst human being ever existed.

Was it so wrong if she was in love with him?

His mind flashed him a name. A name he had tried to bury in the depths of his mind.

He groaned in frustration and stood and started walking on the sand along the beach. The place was beautiful.

He wandered until it was late then decided to go and find a room for the night. He was not in the mood to go back to Orynth. Then he went for dinner and finally dragged himself to a pub. Alcohol. He definitely needed a drink. Something that he hadn’t enjoyed in a very long time. Damn he was so boring. How could anyone be in love with him?

He had a few whiskies in one shot and the liquor burned his throat. He was not used anymore and the booze already started spreading a welcomed numbness through his body and mind. Good, oblivion is what he wanted.

He ordered two more whiskies and chugged them down again in one single motion.

He looked at the tv behind the counter and he discovered the news were passing his interview. He lowered his head and realised straight away it was a stupid idea. His silver hair stood out like a sore thumb.

“I think you look prettier in person.” Said a voice at his side, then he felt a pair of hands on his arm.

He turned his head and there was a woman at his side. Smiling sensually at him.

“Well, you need glasses.” He turned his head again and kept watching the tv ignoring the woman.

“I am Remelle.”

“Good for you.” He ate a couple of the peanuts on the small plate on the counter.

“Why is such a good looking man all alone in a place like this, drinking whisky shots?”

“None of your business.” She moved closer and her hand traced the length of his arm. He had a t-shirt on and his tattoo was on display.

“I love your tattoo.” Her fingers traced the lines of it.

Rowan got off the chair “I am sorry, but I am not interested. Not in the mood and you are being very rude.”

“I can help you make forget about her. You look like pining about some mysterious woman”

Rowan had enough. He stormed out of the pub and ran all the way back to the beach and fell on his knees. He looked up at the dark sky and then closed his eyes.

He had feelings for Aelin. Somehow his treacherous heart had decided to play tricks on him and make him feel again. Something he had forbidden himself from doing for a while. But Aelin had struck him dumb since day one with her big mouth, her defiance. The woman had fire in her and a part of him felt irremediably pulled to her, no matter how much he tried to deny it. He confessed to himself that he had enjoyed fussing over her, looking after her and even try to cheer her up when she had been down. He had told her the truth, he was in awe of her, of what she had done and he hadn’t been in awe of anyone in a very long time.

He had feelings for her, big damn feelings and all he could do was flee instead of facing them. But he was not ready yet. That was his biggest fear. That’s why he had ran out of the room, because her admission had touched a part of him that hadn’t healed yet. Just like her he had loved and lost everything. His feelings were just budding. He had better repress them before it got worse. It was better for both of them. He was positive she deserved someone better than him.

Rowan sighed and sat in the sand in silence, staring at the sky until the fog in his mind started to clear. Eventually he dragged his pitiful arse back to his hotel and crashed in bed fully clothed.

TAGS:

@rowaelinismyotp

@jlinez

@swankii-art-teacher

#rowan whitethorn #rowaelin #rowan x aelin #aelin galythinius #Lysandra #aedion x lysandra #elide x lorcan #fanfic #Throne of Glass series

76 notes · View notes

yenforfairytales · 3 years

Note

Assuming that Silver comes into S4 just as rich, bored, and unhinged as he was in KK3, my One Fear is that if the co-dojo loses the tournament he would ask for something like Daniel to be his servant or return to him as a student, etc. Like Kreese hates him and wants him dead, but Terry seems invested in metaphorically scooping out Daniel empty and replacing his insides with something else. People are like his bonsai that way, but Terry isn't interested in shaping Daniel to be his best self...

That is a very valid fear... Hoo boy you got me deep in the feels.

First of all, yes, I one hundred percent believe Terry has been just as bored as he's ever been. Probably moreso than in KK3. From the little we were shown he seems to find the business side of things and people in his life very dull. There's no challenge. He holds the power in every relationship and situation he's in. It's not until he starts scheming and hanging out with Daniel that he seems to be really living instead of just existing.

I think we're going to see a s4 Terry having the time of his life. He's going to go from his world being a black and white television to full on technicolor. Especially after being around Daniel again, in whatever capacity that is. Whether it's more aggressively antagonistic or appearing as a friend again. I think it could go either way.

Secondly, I think that Cobra Kai WILL win the next tournament. Mostly because the writers have planned up to six seasons and I don't see Kreese peacing out after losing in s4 like he promised lol. Season 5 will probably be more training for another tournament in Season 6. And all the drama in between.

And adding those together, your One Fear is extremely plausible. Cobra Kai is going to have the leverage and the power. They'll have Robby. And if there's one thing Terry knows how to do it is exploiting a weakness.

I'm sure he'll threaten Daniel with hurting Robby if he doesn't do as he asks. And Daniel is the self-sacrificing type that he wouldn't hesitate to submit. Although, I'm hoping that when Robby witnesses how they treat Daniel and what Daniel is willing to give up for him, Robby will return to the light.

There's several ways like you mentioned it could go. Kreese and Silver could use Daniel as a punching bag, but I like the idea of Silver wanting Daniel to be his student again. It's so dark and angsty. It's so perfect.

Terry seems invested in metaphorically scooping out Daniel empty and replacing his insides with something else.

THIS. You gave me chills. What a great line. Watching KK3 it's clear that Terry revels in bringing out Daniel's dark side-- the killer instinct as he and Kreese call it. It all started off as a ploy to hurt Miyagi by hurting his student, but Terry's sole focus quickly becomes all about Daniel. Miyagi who? Lol.

I have this theory that Terry genuinely liked Daniel. There's several instances of Terry being surprised at how quickly Daniel learns something. How fast he heals. How Daniel enjoys Terry's little jokes and sayings.

"You like that, Mr. LaRusso?"

Terry happily says that twice to Daniel. It's like he really enjoyed having a student. And the sheer amount of glee and pride he shows when Daniel broke the wooden dummy. When he punched that guy in the nightclub. It seemed genuine to me. And that's without all the gay subtext. KK3 is so gay you guys. I have to make a separate post about the nightclub scene. You will not believe. I'll link it to the bottom here. There was literally no reason for Terry to follow Daniel that night, to take him out back into the alleyway alone. Like what was your plan Terry. Where were you going.

And then of course later that same night when Daniel tells Terry he'll no longer be fighting, Terry looks so disappointed. Disappointed and then pissed. Nobody says "no" to Terry Silver. Nobody. Not even Kreese. Gone is the proud sensei. Silver becomes even more unhinged when Daniel tries to leave him. I swear KK3 plays out like a Lifetime Original Movie about stalking and abusive boyfriends.

Anyway, I got a little off track there. My point is I can easily see Terry trying to corrupt Daniel once again. Someone that thinks like he does and can be shaped how he wants him? Perfect. And I think Terry sees a little of himself in Daniel. How he used to be. And like Kreese, Terry thinks his old self was weak, and can be something more. In a parallel to how Kreese thinks of Johnny.

This brings me to what you said about Kreese's motives in comparison to Silver's, and how that might affect their relationship.

I think it's safe to say that Kreese is also obsessed with Daniel lol. I mean who isn't heh. But it's definitely more hate-fueled than anything.

If the show goes the way of Silver hyper fixating on Daniel again, I think we'll see that put a huge strain on the friendship. They won't be on the same page.

I mean I think it would be amazing and ironic to show their war forged bond break after all these years in a mirror to Johnny and Daniel coming together and uniting.

And possibly, either Kreese or Silver could be redeemed. It depends on who cares about their student more. Hear me out lmao

If Kreese really cares about Johnny, he's not going to like what Terry does to him. Because let's face it, Terry isn't going to have any great love for Johnny Lawrence. Those two are going to butt heads and trade insults and I can't wait. So it's possible Kreese could turn on Terry if he goes too far in his attempts to destroy Johnny.

And the same goes for Terry and Daniel. How far will Terry let Kreese push things, especially if Terry tries to bring Daniel over to the Cobra Kai side(you can't tell me Terry won't be proud of Daniel's rent hike). Terry is a control freak and if Kreese doesn't do as Terry thinks he should, I can see Terry betraying him. A rift is inevitable y'all. There's a reason CK gives us young Terry and Kreese in flashbacks and it's not just so we'll feel sorry for them. One of them is going to pull a Darth Vader and see the light. But probably not until the end of the series.

There's a line in the kk1 novel:

They'll be their own downfall.

How fun. It's going to be a wild, painful ride. My body is ready.

Another thing I'd like to see in the show regarding Terry and Daniel, is their music together from the KK3 movie. Terry manipulating Daniel again is the perfect opportunity to callback to their old themes. @wantedtourist made a beautiful post HERE about a couple of the songs and I'd like to talk about it more but I'll make a separate post, linked below.

Thank you for the ask! I could talk about these boys for hours.

Part Two: Terry Silver's Theme Songs

Part Three: The Nightclub Scene

#this got ridiculous and long im sorry #all in good fun #who knows what will happen #it's just fun to speculate #i know nothing jon snow #cobra kai #cobra kai spoilers #cobra kai season 4 #lawrusso #silverusso #daniel larusso #johnny lawrence #terry silver #john kreese #ive watched KK3 a hundred times #send help #asks

75 notes · View notes

sunflowerheartsandstarryskies · 3 years

Text

My Golden Curse - Maxwell Lord x Fem!Reader

Author’s Note: Hello again, I may have stumbled upon the Pedro Pascal fandom and I can’t get out, and I saw someone posted that they wanted an imagine with Maxwell Lord and the reader in which one of them gets kidnapped and the other just goes ballistic, and I basically kept getting that idea stuck in my head, this was only supposed to be a drabble but oh well. This depiction of Maxwell Lord is closer to the DC Comics version of him and not the movie but it has Pascal’s Lord’s likeness, so it’s like a combination of the two.

Also, I have survived my finals and had taken a break from writing for a while but I’m back and I have some ideas for my Lucifer multi-chapter fic as well. I also have an idea for a John Wick fic but I have no idea if anyone wants to read that.

Warnings: Typical comic-book violence, cursing (like two curse words), blood mentioned, kidnapping, bruises and injuries (like ribs breaking, a concussion, and a few lacerations

______________________________________________________________

Maxwell Lord IV prided himself on presentation. Everything had to be pristine and everything, even the garbage can by his desk had to be impeccable, because his business and himself in general, are put out on display for the public. He is a figurehead and a showman, so when you came along to be his assistant and secretary he was at first apprehensive because you didn’t dress as provocatively as he may have like and you didn’t look as model-esque as his other secretaries in the past. You didn’t apply to Chimtech to be fucked by your boss, you were good at your job and you aspire to show off your skills.

However, time went on when you first started to work for Maxwell Lord and you did a phenomenal job, whenever he was in a meeting you would always make sure to listen and take notes of what he needed while he was in the meeting. Whenever he requested for you to fax an item you would’ve made sure to have done it five minutes prior. Maxwell had no idea how you could be so efficient at your job, but he damn well appreciates it even if he rarely ever mentions it to you.

It’s an odd relationship that you guys have worked yourself in, a friendly relationship it seems, but both of you are teetering on the edge of wanting more. There have been teasing nicknames, mostly from you, you had a plethora of nicknames that you would give him, ranging from “Sandy” to “Ken”, but “Golden boy” was your favorite.

You would never admit this to him or even to yourself but you actually liked his blonde locks. In certain lightings, when you look at him you swear he was Midas, covered in his own golden curse. It was breathtaking to watch him at some points, but you always try to cover up your flustered state.

You knew Maxwell well, some may say too well for a secretary, but you rarely saw the side of him that most of his competitors and fellow businessmen saw, and that was the merciless and ruthless side to his tactics on getting what he wanted. Everyone in the public eye saw him as just the “King of Infomercials” but there was a reason why and how he got that title in the first place. Who knew the infomercial world could be so cruel and hectic?

You were able to catch glimpses of Maxwell’s amazing abilities of persuasion and showmanship, he was able to get people to admit to what they want and get them to go out and seize, whether that was good or bad. There was a particular talent that you find out he has and it was his ability to drag out people’s hidden desires, there were times when the people he used this talent were a shock as the people around them when they admitted to what they really wanted.

He was a golden idol of his own creation; he had to be especially to the people around him. However, that golden facade can only keep him held up for so long when the people he handed gold to realize that it’s fool’s gold.

______________________________________________________________

It was earlier in the day, you just woke up and got dressed in your office attire with a cup of coffee in hand as you try to will yourself to get going. You looked up at your apartment’s clock and it was 7:00 am, you needed to get going if you were to make it to Chimtech in time.

As you stepped out of your apartment building you felt a gloved hand over your mouth and panic flooding your whole body, but before your body could even fully process a flight or fight response you felt a sharp pain in your neck and you passed out.

When you come to, your vision is blurred and you can’t understand where you are and your brain just has confusion filling your senses. Why can’t you process what is around you? What happened to you? After a couple of more seconds went by you felt a rope tightly woven around your wrists, and you comprehended that you were sitting on a floor. What happened to you?

“Ah, there’s the little doll’s eyes! I was wondering if you were beginning to ever wake up,” a voice filled your ears. You blinked furiously trying to get your eyes to focus and you found yourself face to face with a man, who was grinning at you like a shark finding the prey they smelled a mile away.

“I’m sure you understand why you’re here? I don’t need to monologue it to you, do I?” the man asks.

“Mr. Vince, right? You were in a meeting with my boss Maxwell Lord, a month ago, right?” you questioned him as the drug and weariness started to seep out of you, and you gained more awareness of your surroundings. The man, Mr. Vince was a part-owner of a tech company that Chimtech was interested in making an investment in, however from what you were aware of was that the true goal of the meetings with Vince and his company was to absorb it into Chimtech, forcing Vince and the other owners to give up their powers over to Maxwell Lord and the other board members of Chimtech.

“I see the drugs didn’t impair your memory, I assume you are aware that I am no longer a CEO? That I was tricked by your goddamned boss?! That he put me in a corner to give up my company over to him!” he screamed. He was half an inch from your face and you were terrified of this man, he was unhinged.

“What does this have to do with me, Mr.Vince?” you asked, forcing yourself to not push him over the edge.

“Ooooh this has everything to do with your boss, I remembered that you are his secretary, so you must know some secret of his, something I can leverage against him to make him give me my company back,” he said.

“Even if I have any sort of information to give you, the damage is already done, your company is done in, it’s already been processed into Chimtech, there is none of your company left.”

That was the wrong thing to say as you felt a kick to your stomach. You groaned and rolled onto your side, and before you could recover from that there was another swift kick that you felt go directly to your ribs.

______________________________________________________________

Minutes blended into hours of constant yelling from Vince to him pulling you off the ground to throwing you back down like you were a piece of litter to being his personal punching bag. It was all you could do to just protect yourself and persevere through the pain because you were just a secretary, you were never trained in self-defense, hell you never even did track in high school.

Through the pain, you felt complete distortion and a high pitch whining going through your head, and you finally realized it was a telephone- a landline. Where the hell did this guy get a landline in this beat-up place?

Then, you hear Vince say, “Oh you want to hear how (Y/N) is?” you hear footsteps coming towards you then cold plastic was pressed to your cheek then Vince continued loudly, “Well here she is, talk.”

“(Y/N)?” You heard Maxwell, your golden boy, say your name and all you can do was say his name back in a raspy voice.

“What did he do to you?” Maxwell asked.

Before you could say any more the phone was taken away from you and Vince’s voice filled your ears.

“Tick tock Maxwell, I want my money and you can get your fuck toy back.”

Then silence, a sickening silence filled the room which made you feel every ache and pain that has been put on your body has made itself known by increasing levels of agony. You didn’t even feel it in you to even try to correct Vince’s words about you. You just wanted to sleep and not wake up for a whole day, maybe if you laid perfectly still and just not move a muscle the pain would go away.

As you lay there you tearily open your eyes back up and you can hear the tinny sounds of the echoing footsteps of your captor pacing back and forth in the room you were held in. It was nauseating, and you were confused as you thought, When did you close your eyes? How long were you out?

Then you fell back into your head, and you felt like you were spiraling in your own mind mixed with dizziness and nausea. You just wanted this to end.

A male voice was shouting so close to you and you can feel the panic coming out of his voice, and you can tell it wasn’t Vince because why would he do that?

You felt yourself being lifted from the ground and all you could do was cough sporadically from the new movements on your injuries. It hurt, it hurt so bad.

“I know (Y/N), but you just need to keep going a little bit longer,” the same voice told you.

You couldn’t quite pinpoint where you heard that voice before but you thought it was your boss, Maxwell Lord, but it couldn’t be. That would be the last thought that went through your mind before you lost it to the void.

All you can see at first was just bright and it hurt so bad. When you turned your head you saw a flash of gold and your first thought was, ‘Maxwell’. When your eyes adjusted to the room around you it really was your boss, Maxwell Lord in the hospital with you. He was slumped down in a chair beside your bed and you saw there were roses in a vase on the table next to you.

“Gold-golden boy, hey,” you rasped out trying to wake him. You coughed and then groaned as you felt the lacerations and bandages around your torso.

You saw him stir in the chair and his eyes opened and landed on yours. “Hey boss,” you whispered cringing at your voice. Your hands clenched at the sheets around you as you saw him blink furiously and stood up fast. You flinched at the fast movement but he didn’t seem to notice, as he moved closer to you.

“I am sorry about what happened to you, I didn’t think that our clients would go so far as to do this to you. I can’t believe that bastard did all of this to you-”

“It’s okay, I mean it hurts like a bitch but you ended up finding me didn’t you? What happened to him anyway?” you cut him off.

“Ah well, I may have gotten violent with him before the law enforcement could get him,” he said twisting his hands around and that’s when you saw the scrapes on his knuckles.

“I don’t know if you were a white knight to me but you certainly are a golden devil for doing that,” you replied.

He huffed out a laugh at your reply and he opened his mouth to say something but got interrupted when a nurse arrived.

______________________________________________________________

After the nurse left, you found out you still have a concussion lingering still, three bruised ribs and lacerations across your whole torso and arms.

When he listened to the whole list of injuries that you had gotten in the three days that you were with Mr. Vince, he felt rage boil over him but he tried to keep calm as he remembered the battered state he left Vince in. At least he made him feel some of the pain that he made you go through, Maxwell was a very prideful man in how he acts so for him to act like that was completely out of character for him.

He must be looking worried because he noticed your furrowed brows and you glancing at him every so often.

“Did you want to say something?” he asked

“Well, I was gonna ask you a similar question because I think you were interrupted by the nurse. Also are you okay?”

Your question startled him and the mention of the interruption made him clear his throat and fidget with his suit to try to hide the blush that was threatening to come up to his face. Your inquisitive expression on your face was watching him.

“I’ve been thinking that if you would like to leave the company, I won’t force you to stay, especially with what happened this week,” he said.

Listening to him say this made you panic and as you tried to sit up, Maxwell came up to you quickly as he says, “What do you think you’re doing? You got to take it easy.”

As you are situated in your bed you went to reach for Maxwell’s hand as you say, “Why would I want to quit? I love my job and I love working with you even if at times I don’t seem like it. None of what happened to me was your fault, how could you have known that Vince would react to the merger the way that he did.”

Maxwell was startled by this, he never had anyone in his family nor his company is so willing to stay with him especially when they are given an out.

He bowed his head toward you and said, “If you keep saying things like that I might want to keep you by my side for a long time.”

You laughed as you replied, “If you let me I will, you are a weird but kind man-” you stopped yourself as a thought came to your head.

“How long have you been here? What about Chimtech?”

“Ah well if my secretary didn’t get kidnapped and injured I wouldn’t be here right now, but you made me worried and how can I do my best work without my best assistant around me?”

“Now you’re just flattering me”

“But it’s true”

“Hmmm if you say so, Sandy”

______________________________________________________________

Four days have gone by and you were finally released from the hospital to go back to your apartment. You tried to go back to work at Chimtech, but Maxwell found you were released and gave you the rest of the week off to recover. You would become the envy of the company at this rate with how well the boss has been treating you.

Now that you have been just lounging in your apartment watching TV movies, and eating takeout for meals it has given you time to properly understand what happened to you for the past two weeks.

The way your boss, Maxwell, has been treating you made you see a whole new side of him. At first, you thought of working for him as both a blessing and a curse. At first, it was hell on earth, you ran yourself ragged making sure everything was up to par with Maxwell’s standards but after the next three years working with the man you considered him a friend of sorts. Even though you always tried to make sure to never consider employers and colleagues be separate from your personal life but it’s hard to do that when all you have is your work life.

Ever since the kidnapping incident, Maxwell had visited you every day in the hospital he even gave you flowers on the last day of your hospital visit, it was a beautiful vase of sunflowers.

You didn’t realize how long you were sitting on your couch thinking about your boss when you heard a knock on your door. You looked at the clock near your tv and realized it was nearly midnight.

‘Who could come by to my apartment at this hour?’ you thought.

You got up carefully minding the bruises still littering your body, and you opened the door surprised to see Maxwell.

His hair was a bit disheveled and he didn’t have a suit jacket on showing off the suspenders he likes to wear. He looked quite cute seeing him like this.

“Come in, Mr. Lord. What brings you to my place this late at night?” you inquired.

He ran his hand through his hair as he entered your apartment and he turns to look at you as you closed the door.

He sighed as he said, “I don’t know how quite to put this without sounding terrible, but after what happened to you, I can’t stop thinking about you. You are the best woman-the best person I’ve known and for you to still want to work with me after everything that has happened.”

He looked like he was getting frustrated with himself, you were shocked because how could you have gotten the king of infomercials to be so frustrated with his own words?

You took a tentative step forward to him as you placed a hand on his arm.

“Sandy, what’s going on?”

He was silent for a moment before he looked into your eyes with a strong determination as he says, “You know more about me than my own mother does, and after all this time together I’ve grown to respect you more and more. When I saw you in that hospital I wanted to kill the bastard and send him to hell when I found you like that in the warehouse.”

“I-I don’t know what to say, Mr. Lord-”

“Call me Maxwell, none of your silly names, not boss, not my last name, just Maxwell”

You could tell he was earnest with this and sincere it took your breath away to see him like this. He was beautiful and it made your heart flutter when you realize what he might be trying to confess to you.

“Maxwell” you breathed out testing his name out. You said his name once before and that was when you had gotten kidnapped but now this is completely different, almost like a prayer. A prayer to this golden devil of yours.

He smiled when he heard you say his name and he let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

“I wish I could kiss all the scars away from your body so you never have to live with them again. I wish that I could be yours, fully and I want to be clear that I would never use you like I may have done to my secretaries in the past. I want to be yours, in any way you may want me.”

“Oh Maxwell, I think I might have to grant your wish this time,” you say blinking away tears that were threatening to spill as you were listening to his confession.

“(Y/N)” he whispered reverently.

He cradled your face with both hands as he studied your face to see any resistance than he gently placed his lips on yours.

You made a small gasp as you finally felt his lips on yours, you clutched onto his shirt as you pulled him closer to you. He tilted his head and pushed your chin up to meet in for a deeper kiss. It felt amazing and you felt loved.

When you parted you were chasing each other’s lips to crash back into each other as you kissed each other until you both need a break. Both of your lips were swollen and you looked at him with such love that when Maxwell saw, he almost wanted to take you then and there but he was mindful of how fragile this love could be.

Author’s Note: I might do a second part if people want it but whew this took a lot out of me, I hope you guys like it!

#maxwell lord x reader #pedro pascal x reader #Pedro Pascal #maxwell lord #imagines #x reader #wonder woman 1984 #max lord x reader

122 notes · View notes

kaminobiwan · 4 years

Text

reprieve

pairing: commander cody x reader

summary: you get some much-needed time alone with a certain marshal commander. cody exacerbates relations between the 212th and the 41st.

a/n: for the darling @simping-for-fives, as part of my 600 celebration :D I never thought I’d write for Cody. seems like a crime, now. this was supposed to be fluffy, but I couldn’t help but sprinkle in a little spice. he’s just powerful like that.

hope you enjoy Fatima <3 masterlist n taglist

After a battle is when he’s always ready to sneak away for you.

He’s not usually so lenient, but he’s also not above pulling rank to get to a spontaneous rendezvous. The perks of getting romantically involved with a Marshal Commander, you suppose — you know nobody will really question why he’s on board the Tranquility when he should be on the Negotiator filing his debriefings (and an injury report, while he’s at it). If you know him by now, which you do, he’s probably arranged for Odd Ball to cover his bureaucratic work while he snatches a couple of moments for himself from his never ending list of duties. He’s bending the rules, responsibly.

It’s how you know he loves you.

Today, ‘bending the rules’ takes the form of relief-born handsiness as he interrupts you working in your quarters, his favorite caf coincidentally brewing in the portable machine he’d gotten you for your birthday. You still aren’t completely sure how he managed to even buy it — perks, again — but it’s proven to be a wise investment over the course of the war and your effectively discreet relationship. It prepares a cup faster than the standard model in the mess, but not fast enough to finish before Cody’s lips find yours.

He keeps you sat on the chair you’d been perched upon while reading transmission reports before he’d come in, caging your body with two calculated hooks of his arms around you. As tantalizing as his lips are on yours, it’s not enough — and you move to raise your own arms to reach for his shoulders, needing some kind of bodily contact. Before you can get very far, a large palm smooths over your hip and pushes down, sending you back the couple centimetres you’d risen with a small oof. It’s immediately followed by a sour pout.

“Stay put,” he murmurs, the ghost of a smile flickering across his lips, which widens the same time your frown does. “I’ll come to you.”

Your eyes roll on instinct. Does he really have to be in charge all the time? “Come on,” you titter, “you haven’t even taken off your armour.” Your hands find his vambraces as if to prove your point, but his hands don’t leave from their place beside your thighs on the chair, patiently flexing instead. A flash of amusement glints in his gaze — but you spot the hunger there, too. A matching fervor blazes in your own.

“Can’t you be good for one minute?” It’s a tease — and a challenge. You rise to meet it like a tidal wave.

“If you make it worth being good for.”

His brow sets in dark resolution, but he leans forward nonetheless, mouth inching ever closer to yours, but he turns, angling towards the sweet spot on your neck. You’re almost craning in anticipation, lips nearing their glorious mark, but just as you feel the hover of his presence on your skin, an enthusiastic beep shatters the tension between you. Cody smiles.

“Caf’s ready.” He swoops up and around your seat with a pompous grin, breezing to the counter where two mugs are waiting, but you’re not letting him get away that easy. Be good, my ass, your consciousness retorts, and suddenly you’re up and pushing him backwards when he turns to face you.

His back hits the wall next to the cafmaker, and your lips are on his before he can even blink. His eyes flutter shut, though, when he feels your tongue breach his mouth and wrap around his own. When his fingers find your sides and spread hotly along your uniform, a thrum of satisfaction burns warm through your veins. Your noses bump as he slants into a deeper kiss, and you sigh contentedly when he squeezes you to him.

Unfortunately, you’re interrupted again by the sound of a tentative knock on the door to your cabin, and you detach yourself from Cody’s face with an exasperated gasp. He smirks at you, infuriatingly, before cornering you back against the chair, leaning over you once more and fisting the back of the seat as a hand weighs heavy on your shoulder, leading you down to your original position. He teases another kiss along your swollen lips, holding steady as you try to rush into it again. “Sit down.” He breathes out the command under his breath. “I’ll get it.”

You’re glued to your spot in an impatient daze as the trooper — Buzz, you recognize — greets Cody with confused hesitance and asks for your help with some of the newer communications officers that are struggling to delegate without you.

“She’s occupied at the moment,” Cody replies flatly, and suddenly, you’re quite thankful he hadn’t taken off his armour — paired with his appearance and level-headed diction, your trooper doesn’t seem any the wiser.

You’ve always said Cody’s the best liar in the GAR.

“Is it really a problem that requires the attention of the chief communications officer?” The way he says your title with just a hint of annoyance brings a laugh tickling in your chest, and you exhale fondly as he saves you from whatever small mess is happening on the bridge. He really does sound like he’s just been poring over flimsiwork.

Buzz pauses. “Um, no, sir.” Then, again. “At least, I don’t think so.”

Cody stares back, unimpressed. “I suggest you let the new COMMOs know that they can’t ask for their C.O.’s help every time there’s a little bump in the road. This isn’t a training simulation.” You hear the thud of Buzz’s foot as he straightens in a salute. “And next time, have them come get her themselves. You’re a trooper, not a messenger.”

“Sir, yes, sir!” Cody punches the release to send your door sliding closed as Buzz makes his retreat, and you tap your ankle to quell the mirth in your system. When he meets your eyes after circling back around to face you, the businesslike decorum falls away once he sees your bitten smile.

“Don’t start,” he groans, but you’re already laughing.

“I’m just saying,” your fingers find his face, pulling down as he smiles against his will. Your heart preens at the view. “My men aren’t used to your harshness. Wouldn’t want any bad blood between the 41st and the 212th.” He kisses your thumb when it glides down from across his scar, relaxing more the longer he’s in your hold. “It’s hard enough smuggling you in here without a couple people noticing. ‘Ensuring uniformity between departments’ is getting a little old.”

When he dips his head lower to mouth at your neck, the heavy heat of before breathes back to life in your chest, and it reflects in his glowing gaze. “Getting old, huh?” His knees hit the floor as he descends in front of you. “Hopefully that’s the only thing.”

You grin wider at him, his dominance bleeding into clinginess after the forced interaction. He always acts as though every unnecessary conversation pains him, but you know it’s only because he’s got too many headaches of his own to deal with. You do, too, which is what makes each second spent together so precious. “Don’t worry, I’m not tired of you yet. Gonna take a lot more than your attitude to drive me away.”

He hums, finished with conversation. He’s spent the gamut of his words, today. A curl of steam from the counter catches your eye as he traps you further in your seat, both with the expanse of his body and his affection.

“Caf’s getting cold,” you breathe, only half serious. He presses his lips to yours before answering you a final time.

“Let it.”

(You do.)

#rini writes #commander cody x reader #he is so HOT WHY DID I NEVER IMAGINE WRITING FOR HIM #either way happy with this one #sweet lil thing to get me out of writer's block #clones x reader #rini reaches 600!#man I really love the interruption trope huh

466 notes · View notes

haus-seeblick · 3 years

Text

Suptober Day 6: “Who Brings a Gun to a Cemetery?”

For Day 6: Cemetery Boys

Rating: General Audiences; Ship: Pre-Destiel; WC: 3,219

POV Outsider (Original Male Character); full tags on AO3 or below the cut.

Summary: Jerry Wallace has seen a lot of satanic rituals. A lot. Candles and daggers, pentagrams, hoods and chanting; you name it, he’s seen it. As the head of security — and only guard — of Sullivan Cemetery, he’s bound to have run into the occasional devil worshipper. It doesn’t even faze him anymore. There’s not much Jerry Wallace hasn’t seen.

In which: Jerry Wallace encounters Dean Winchester, supposed Satanist.

On AO3 Here (or read under the cut!)

Full Tags: POV Outsider, This poor cemetery guard doesn't know what to do about Dean Winchester, Dean seems insane, BAMF Castiel, Early Seasons Dean and Cas, Pre-Relationship Dean and Cas, Pre-Friendship Dean and Cas, somehow they still manage to flirt though, POV Character is briefly threatened by Dean Winchester but it all ends OK,Humor

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jerry Wallace has seen a lot of satanic rituals. A Iot. Candles and daggers, pentagrams, hoods and chanting; you name it, he’s seen it. As the head of security — and only guard — of Sullivan Cemetery, he’s bound to have run into the occasional devil worshipper (and worse. People dig up graves for really unsavory reasons). It doesn’t even faze him anymore. There’s not much Jerry Wallace hasn’t seen.

But tonight, as he sweeps his flashlight back and forth across the dewy grass, making his rounds and sipping on his steaming coffee, something stops him short. He narrows his eyes and cocks his head to listen. There’s a scuffling sound up ahead, from just outside the Bennett mausoleum. It sounds too big to be any of the usual animals. Humans, then. Jerry sighs. He was hoping for a quiet night, so he could make himself comfortable under the lamp at the cemetery entrance and read the book his teenage son, Andrew, had lent him. Cemetery Boys, it’s called. Jerry finds it fitting.

A man’s rough voice rings out from around the corner of the mausoleum. “Dammit, Sam, you can’t give me any hints?”

Jerry blinks at the audacity. Who sneaks into a cemetery at night and doesn’t even try to be quiet about it? He decides to give these particular satanists a little scare, just to teach them a lesson. He switches off his flashlight and gently sets his precious cup of coffee on top of the nearest headstone. Time to have some fun.

He sneaks on silent feet across the grass, clutching his flashlight tight in hand and deciding which tactic he wants to use. The reliable old jump scare? Flashlight beam to the face and an earsplitting yell — it’s worked well on thrill-seeking teenagers in the past. Or the more tricky option, creeping around and making ghostly sounds to unnerve the trespassers so thoroughly that they leave? More time investment, but also more amusing in the long run — Jerry decides on Option Two.

The wall of the mausoleum gives him excellent cover to start his performance. He sidles up along it, to the very edge. The intruders are just around the corner, and it sounds like one of them’s rummaging around in a bag of some sort. Jerry rolls his eyes. Probably some weirdos with spray paint, here to deface the walls of the mausoleum with symbols that take ages to wash off. Jerry opens his mouth and is about to emit his first long, ghostly moan, when the same voice as before pipes up again.

“Picking the lock didn’t work, Sam, I’m telling you, it’s gonna take longer. You gotta hold her off.”

The other person — Sam — doesn’t reply, though. Jerry furrows his brow. Who’s being held off? He decides to get a better picture of the scene before initiating his plan. Very slowly, he pokes just the right side of his face around the corner. The front of the small white building is washed in moonlight, the nearest lamp a ways down the path.

There’s a man crouched outside the mausoleum, maybe in his late twenties, from what Jerry can tell in the low light. He’s wearing an oversized leather jacket over a patterned shirt, with jeans and sturdy-looking boots. His short hair is spiked a bit in the front.

He doesn’t look like a satanist. Jerry stays very still, breathing shallowly and watching.

The man has both hands in a medium-sized duffel bag, rooting around. The contents of the bag are clanging and thudding. With a triumphant exhale, the man stands up, crowbar in hand. Jerry balks. This is already a step beyond chanting and spray paint. Again, nothing he hasn’t seen before, though.

What Jerry couldn’t see while the man was crouched, that now makes itself clear, is that he has a mobile phone pressed between his shoulder and ear. As the man advances on the door with the crowbar, he barks into the phone, “Update, Sammy. You still kicking?”

Jerry can’t make out Sam’s muffled response, but it obviously displeases the man, because he whacks the crowbar against the mausoleum door with a frustrated growl. “Watch your back. Figure out what the hell I’m supposed to burn!” He flips the phone shut and stuffs it into his jacket pocket.

This is getting stranger and stranger. Jerry watches as the man goes to town on the mausoleum door, an offense that Jerry would usually be more inclined to stop from happening. Something about this man, though, about the way he carries himself and the way he talks, is holding Jerry back.

He’s very glad about his decision to stay put about ten seconds later, when the man drops the crowbar to the ground with a clang and pulls a gun out of his jacket. Jerry doesn’t even carry a gun. His heart starts beating and his palms prickle with sweat. He didn’t sign up for this. Who brings a gun to a cemetery?

The man steps back a couple feet, points the handgun at the lock, hunches his shoulders, and fires. Jerry barely has the wherewithal to throw himself back around the corner and press his hands over his ears before the shot goes off. He feels it reverberate through the wall, twice, as the man fires again. Fully out of sight now, Jerry gingerly lowers the zipper on his jacket and reaches into his chest pocket for his radio. He needs to call this in. This is way above his pay grade.

“Dammit!” the man yells. The gun must’ve been ineffective. Jerry mentally pats himself on the shoulder. He requested upgrades to all mausoleum locks after a series of break ins last year, and it looks like the security company came through.

Jerry hears the keypad of the mobile phone beeping as the man punches in a number, then there’s muffled ringing. Jerry uses the sound as cover to pull his radio out and to inch his face around the corner again so he has a visual of the scene.

The man’s phone rings and rings. With another frustrated yell, the man slaps it shut and paces back and forth in front of the door, one hand running through his hair, the other still holding his gun. After a few moments, he stops in his tracks. He’s facing Jerry’s direction, silvery moonlight throwing his cheekbones in sharp relief. He looks like a respectable young man, really. Jerry wonders where he lost his way.

There’s a set of complicated emotions working their way across the man’s face. His eyebrows are pinched in concentration, eyes squeezed shut, lips moving as if he’s talking to himself. This lasts about ten seconds before he throws up his hands and glares at the sky.

“Oh, come on!” he shouts. “Get your harp-toting ass down here! Castiel!”

Jerry, who prides himself on never swearing, thinks: What the fuck.

The man is obviously disturbed. He needs a doctor. Jerry glances down at the radio in his hand, and presses the emergency button. He can’t afford a conversation with dispatch; the man will overhear. This will at least get someone out here.

When Jerry looks back up, he twitches. There are now two men in front of the mausoleum. The newcomer is wearing a long trenchcoat and standing stiffly. He’s facing away from Jerry, looking at the gunman, sensible shoes planted hip-width apart. His messy dark hair blends into the shadows.

Where on earth did he come from? Jerry darts his eyes around. The mausoleum is on a slightly raised part of the cemetery, visibility clear in all directions. Even if the trenchcoat man had approached from the opposite side of the building, Jerry would have seen him.

“Cas,” the gunman says, voice heavy with something like — relief, perhaps? His tense posture relaxes slightly and he claps the trenchcoat man on the shoulder. “You took your time,” he accuses. “Can you open those doors?”

The trenchcoat man, Cas — is this Castiel? Jerry cannot keep up — turns slightly to regard the doors.

“This is why you prayed to me?” Cas’ voice is deeper than the gunman’s, rougher. He speaks like a robot. “Heaven is at war, Dean. You call me to help you break down a door?”

Jerry’s brain is spinning. Are these… actors? Cosplayers? He learned about cosplayers from Andrew. Some of them do have very elaborate costumes. Jerry squints at Cas’ back. This doesn’t look like a costume, though. Cas looks like a tax accountant. Like he should be at home with his family at this time of night.

“Sam’s in trouble,” Dean’s saying, an ever-so-slight pleading edge to the words. “I gotta get in here, Cas, or he’s gonna meet a real bad end. I know you’ve got the mojo, come on!”

“I do not exist to do your bidding,” Cas replies. He strides over to the doors, though, trenchcoat flapping around his calves. “I do not serve you.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. You’re a warrior.” Dean’s hovering at Cas’ shoulder. “Can you blast ‘em?”

Cas lays a hand on the doors, long fingers splayed against the metal. Jerry glances down at his radio again. The red button is flashing, indicating that he’d called for help, but he can’t hear any sirens yet. He hopes they send enough officers for two grave-desecrating weirdos.

“Stand back,” Cas says. “And tell the man behind the wall to stand back, too.”

“What?” Dean’s head whips around.

Jerry hastily pulls his head out of sight, heart racing. Oh, no. He’s seen enough. He can ID these two for the cops later. He doesn’t need to be on the scene.

He turns heel to run, but makes it only two steps before a hand grabs his collar and yanks him back. The air is knocked out of him and he yelps, feet scrabbling on the pavement as a strong arm drags him around the corner. He lands on his butt in front of the doors, palms scraping on the ground. He quickly raises one over his head in surrender.

“Please— please, I have a family!” He keeps his eyes averted. Dean’s boots are inches away from his legs. “Don’t hurt me, I won’t say a word, I promise!”

“You the guard?” Dean crouches down in front of him. Oh, lord, the gun is trained on Jerry’s face. He whimpers and nods.

“Great. Give me the keys to the doors. Stat.” A palm appears in front of Jerry’s chest, held out in expectation. He hesitates. Isn’t that aiding and abetting?

No way. He’s at gunpoint. He nods again, fervently, and fumbles in his pocket for his ring of keys. His hand shakes violently as he drops them onto Dean’s outstretched palm. He sneaks a peek up at the men.

“Cas,” Dean says, tossing the keys to the trenchcoat man. “Figure out which one it is. I’ll deal with him.”

Cas catches the keys. “So, you do not want me to break the doors?”

“No— just—” Dean closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, lips pressed together. “Just unlock them.” Cas scowls, but begins slotting the various keys into the mausoleum lock.

Dean turns back to Jerry and waves a hand in front of his face. “Hey,” he snaps. Jerry meets his eyes, conscious that he must look utterly terrified. He hopes it’ll appeal to any sense of humanity in this gun-toting lunatic.

“Whatever you think I am, I’m not,” Dean says, quickly and gruffly. “I’m not some pervert tryin’ to get my rocks off with Sleeping Beauty in there. I haven’t got time to ease you in slow, so here it is: ghosts are real. There’s one after my brother. I can gank it, but I gotta burn some hair or somethin’, something keepin’ it here. That’s all. Once Cas opens the doors, I’ll be in and out. We don’t have to get nasty. I’m even saving your doors from gettin’ blasted, as a favor. ”

Jerry picks and chooses what to process of that. “You have a gun pointed at me.”

Dean glances at the gun, like he’s just now realizing he still has it trained on Jerry. He lowers it. “Sorry. Had to let you know I’m serious. You gonna let me do my thing, or we gonna have a problem?”

The police will be here soon, Jerry thinks. It’s not my responsibility to stop this maniac.

“No problem,” he says. Dean nods once, satisfied, and in that moment, the lock clicks. The doors swing open heavily. Dean springs to his feet and races toward the mausoleum.

“Awesome, Cas!” he shouts, slapping a palm against Cas’ chest as he passes. Cas looks after him, a bemused expression on his face.

“I don’t know what to burn!” Dean hollers from inside.

Jerry is so far past trying to understand any of this. He nurses his scraped palms, huddling on the cold pavement and thinking of the book Andrew gave him. He wanted to finish a few chapters tonight so they could talk about them over breakfast tomorrow. He hopes he gets the chance.

Jerry is tough, but his eyes sting a little as he thinks about it.

“Dean is a good man,” Cas suddenly says, in that mechanical way of his. “Righteous. He won’t harm a human.”

Jerry stares at him in disbelief. There’s nothing he can say to that, beyond “Okay.” Cas just nods, and turns to gaze into the darkness of the mausoleum. There’s a lot of scraping and clattering echoing from the room inside, as if Dean is dismantling the place. He probably is, Jerry thinks miserably as the sound of breaking glass reaches his ears.

Dean comes storming back out of the room, assorted items piled in his arms. Jerry recognizes the doll that’s usually propped up behind the glass of the Bennett daughter’s crypt, and a locket that hangs behind the mother’s. A whole array of other personal effects that Jerry spends his nights guarding also end up on the pavement at Dean’s feet. Dean dives into his duffel bag, pulling out a can of gasoline. He douses the whole pile in the acrid-smelling stuff — Jerry’s nostrils sting and he coughs, scrabbling a little farther away. Dean pulls a lighter out of pocket and flicks it several times, cursing when it doesn’t ignite.

“Allow me,” Cas says, stepping forward. He pauses. “Close your eyes.”

Jerry throws an arm over his eyes without a second thought, just catching sight of Dean doing the same. His jacket sleeve does very little, though, to shield his eyes from the brilliant blue-white light that rips through the darkness. It feels like a bonfire, there one moment and gone the next, leaving the tips of Jerry’s hair singed. He cowers, eyes pressed shut, heaving huge breaths.

“Damn, Cas,” Dean says, voice tinged with awe. “Thanks for the assist.”

Jerry lowers his (slightly smoking) arm and peers at where the pile of belongings once lay. It’s completely gone, reduced to ash, just smoldering dust on the pavement. How on Earth—

In that moment, Dean’s mobile phone rings. He frantically plunges a hand into his jacket and rips it out, flipping it open.

“Sammy?” he asks sharply, pressing the phone to his ear. The voice on the other end mumbles something and Dean sags in relief, dragging a hand over his face. “Close call, huh? Yeah, glad it worked.”

Jerry tunes out the rest of Dean and Sam’s conversation. His eyes travel from the smoking pile of dust, to Cas (who’s standing motionless, staring at Dean), to the open mausoleum door, to his own hands, trembling in his lap. A light catches his eye off to the side and he follows it, realizing it’s his radio, abandoned on the pavement, red emergency light still blinking steadily. He gazes at it like a lifeline.

“Is that— Did you—” Dean’s voice is suddenly closer, right next to Jerry, and he quickly looks up. Dean’s looking at the radio, too. His phone is closed in his hand; he must be done talking to his brother.

“The cops coming?” Dean demands, gesturing at the radio. Jerry doesn’t want to let on, he doesn’t, but faced with this strange, complicated, definitely violent person, he can’t hold out. He nods.

“Dammit,” Dean mutters. Just then, the first siren wails in the distance, growing louder by the second.

Finally.

Dean groans and rushes over to his duffel bag, throwing the can of gasoline back in and grabbing the crowbar off the ground to toss that in, too. “Leave the keys, Cas,” he snaps at the trenchcoat man, who still has Jerry’s key ring dangling from his fingers. Cas drops the keys on the ground.

“Can you zap me to my car?” Dean hoists the duffel over his shoulder and faces Cas. “I won’t make it if I run.”

Cas steps closer to Dean, until he’s right in front of him. Their noses are just a few inches apart. Jerry, with nothing else to do but wait for his rescuers, watches them. Dean takes what looks like a shaky breath. His eyes flick down to Cas’ mouth. “You gonna stare, or you gonna help?” he asks, but it comes out small, a weak attempt at bravado.

Cas reaches out and places his hand over Dean’s left shoulder. “I’ll go with you,” he says, deep and measured, and in the next second, they’re gone. Just gone.

Jerry could swear he heard the flapping of wings. He sits there, numb, staring at the spot where they vanished.

Eventually, the yellow beams of flashlights dart across the front of the mausoleum and voices break through the fog in Jerry’s brain. A hand lands on his shoulder. “Sir, are you all right?”

He’s saved.

There’s a lot of questions from the responding officers, a lot of Jerry having to recount what he saw, picking and choosing details — which of course renders his story utterly implausible — and a lot of nobody believing him; there’s a breathalizer test — humiliating — that of course comes back clean (whether that’s better or worse for him, Jerry’s not so sure), and a round of paperwork, and finally, finally, Jerry is allowed to go.

He stumbles down the cemetery path in a daze, passing his long-cold cup of coffee, still perched on its headstone. He snags it and throws it away in the trash can at the cemetery gates. The officers said they would lock the mausoleum and the security station; Jerry was supposed to go home. He stops briefly at his station, though, to grab Andrew’s book.

He’s not quite ready to go home yet. He’s not sure what to say.

Jerry makes himself comfortable in the front seat of his car, overhead light on, and cracks open his book. He starts to read.

#suptober21 #this was fun to write #have some silliness #i enjoy imagining what regular citizens think of the winchesters #poor jerry #he's just doing his job #early seasons destiel #pre-destiel #fanfic #ficlet

19 notes · View notes

chalkrevelations · 3 years

Text

WELL. Episode 3 of Word of Honor.

First of all: If you are NEW or JUST VISITING, this is a re-watch, so there are SPOILERS not just for this ep, but for the ENTIRE SHOW. A lot of them, actually. Scroll away and come back later if you haven’t seen all 36.5 eps and want to watch it unspoiled.

So, this ep feels a little disjointed. I don’t think it actually is, not in the way the back nine are a speedrun where the writing starts to feel like it’s thisclose to coming off the rails, but it feels like it, in that we’re now getting a double handful of threads thrust at us that are only just starting to be woven together into a plot, and it’s the kind of hot mess that any fiberwork looks like before the pattern starts to show itself, particularly when you’re using 15 different color threads from jump. There’s generally a major theme or issue or overriding concept that stands out to me in each ep that, you may have noticed, gets primacy of place in these reactions, but honestly, y’all, I really struggled to figure out what that might be for this episode, because a lot of this, on re-watch, strikes me as groundwork for later developments. Wen Kexing gives us an “as you know, Bob” speech about the Amory and the Glazed Armor, we meet approx. 3.2K new characters, and I feel sort of like I should start keeping a chart of who’s supposed to have a piece of the Glazed Armor and who actually does have a piece of the Glazed Armor, but it’s already so confusing that it might be too late.*

ANYWAY, on re-watch, I can absolutely see the value of spending Eps 1 & 2 on introducing us to Zhou Zishu and Wen Kexing and getting us pulled into their orbit, because then we have scenes we’re already invested in to maintain our interest as the background politics begin to frustratingly play out with a bunch of people we don’t know or have any investment in yet. I mean, y’all. I forgot just what an ill-tempered gremlin ZZS was in these early eps. He is so fk’n put out that these people will not let him drink himself to death in the gutter in peace! Or, you know, in occasional Nightly Nails Torment. And the exasperation from both ZZS and Chengling over WKX’s antics – both of their faces are priceless in the scene when they discover he’s the one who’s bought out all the rooms at the inn. I literally lol’d. Again. Even knowing it was coming. All of this interaction is so delightful. This is actually the ep that provoked my very first WoH keysmash flailing Tumblr post and inaugurated the “wen kexing’s thirst is practically a third character” tag. I guess the biggest throughline for this ep is that we can continue to see how everything changes when we know about their previous relationship – things like WKX’s insistence that they have a “deep bond through fate” take on additional layers of meaning rather than just sounding like some dude who’s trying to pick you up at last call. Interesting that ZZS describes WKX at one point during their push-pull conversational dance as “like a wretched soul that keeps haunting around.” You mean, like a GHOST? Like a Ghost Valley ghost? Like the almost forgotten memory of a past life ghost? ZZS wants to know why WKX keeps following him around, and it would be nice if WKX would just come clean, but that would be too easy, wouldn’t it?

ZZS, re: Chengling: I do my best to ensure what was entrusted to me.

WKX: :makes (already! in ep 3!) yet another in a series of bad decisions not to say anything about the fact that he, himself, was in fact entrusted to ZZS:

Show: Here’s the first of many helpings of heartache to come. EAT IT. EAT IT ALL.

(Me: Well, here’s another AU idea: What would the course of this relationship be like if WKX flat-out asked ZZS what ZZS’s relationship to Four Seasons Manor was, and bare-faced claimed sanctuary as long-lost shidi Zhen Yan at this point? Because I bet there are plenty of ways that could actually go wrong. Not to mention the deliciousness of just watching them navigate a relationship shift that sudden. I feel like, at this point, WKX would have to be actively confrontational about it, would have to throw it in ZZS’s face – it would need to be something he did in the heat of anger, in order to have this pushed out past all of his fears. Like, you say that, but where were you when I needed you? Also, you think so, well what if your responsibility actually turned out to be the TERRIFYING GHOST VALLEY MASTER, what then, huh? And ZZS, still pretty actively suicidal over all of his failures, having to deal with what’s now being presented as YET ANOTHER FAILURE.)

Also, the theme of “knowing” (zhiji, the one I know) is starting to slide in sideways – we’re seeing a lot of back and forth between them asking about seeing the other’s “true face.” WKX says that he’ll tell ZZS what he (WKX) wants from him once he gets to see ZZS’s true face (LIES, it’s going to take a lot longer than that). ZZS asks to see WKX’s figurative true face, and WKX looks kind of sad and contemplative as he warns that it may be unappealing or terrifying. So, you know, we’re starting to poke at all the softest, most tender places and the issues that are going to stab me repeatedly in the heart for the rest of the show. We’re also already seeing the way Xiao Chu just layered in references throughout the script when she wrote it that call back to each other – it’s like almost any line of dialogue references three other lines of dialogue (and that’s without even getting into all of the literary references that I’m missing because I don’t have cultural context). You get things like WKX’s little speech right at the end that it’s hard to tell a ghost from a human, which on its face might be referring to the two “ghosts” that were coming for Chengling that he took care of and act as an admonishment to ZZS not to be so quick to assume they’re actually from Ghost Valley, but it also refers to WKX, himself, and specifically lays the groundwork (“someone wearing a ghost mask is not necessarily a ghost”) for his conversation in a later ep with ZZS when he asks if ZZS thinks he’s a good person, and also calls back (“someone who looks human may not be human”) to the line from earlier in this ep, itself, when WKX tells ZZS that perhaps WKX’s true face is terrifying. And so we get a nicely little wrapped package of the dichotomy of WKX and his issues. (As a somewhat related aside, A-Xiang’s little face when Zhou Zishu says all of the ghosts of Ghost Valley are full of evil (at 6:55). D: This reaction is obviously for herself, but also may be the first time she acts as proxy for Wen Kexing, as well.)

What else, what else?

So, nobody has a good opinion of the jianghu. WKX is going to be constantly all, “You killed my father, jianghu, prepare to die,” but ZZS also goes off about how it’s just about greed, hatred and ignorance, and yeah, I guess he’d have a pretty bad impression of it, when Prince Jin and Tian Chuang seemed like a better option than the pressure he was facing, trying to keep Siji Manor Sect alive back in the day. We talk a lot about WKX’s childhood trauma, because it’s so awful and right in our faces, but I don’t know how much we actually talk about the fact that ZZS was a teenager not much older than Chengling when he inherited a sect and tried desperately to keep it from being torn apart by the rest of the jianghu. I think we see some bitterness come out in the first few episodes – frankly, in this ep, he doesn’t seem to make much of a distinction between Ghost Valley and the rest of the jianghu. Also interesting that the metaphor he uses about the jianghu’s and Ghost Valley’s greed for the treasures of the Armory is “reaping without sowing,” given what we find out is actually in there in Ep 36.

We see our metaphor of light get pulled out again – this throughline strikes me as more like beads on a string than a thread, at this point, but maybe I’ll notice it more on this second time through … Anyway, WKX’s comment at 9:11 that it’s almost dawn is notable. Indeed, but is it because your plan is beginning to work and you can see the destruction of Ghost Valley and the jianghu coming down the pike, or is it because you’ve found your shixiong?

I notice WKX has color-coordinated ZZS and Chengling in the robes he bought for them, has already grouped them together, marked them as belonging to each other – he’s already subtly treating them as each other’s family. The show, with a particular lack of subtlety, also will have ZZS there to wake up Chengling from nightmares later in the end of the ep, as Chengling calls out for his dad in his sleep.

OK, Deng Kuan is the guy in charge of the Yueyang sect contingent that arrived in time to see the Mirror Lake chaos in Ep 2 and has taken charge of cleaning up the bodies in this ep. I actually overlooked him, pretty much, the first time around, but here, he’s already got Shen Shen yelling at him (in a completely ridiculous fashion) for not getting there in time to save the Mirror Lake Sect, so he’s just going to be a punching bag through the whole show, apparently. Shen Shen is wu-di, fifth (little) brother, and he refers to Chengling’s dad as si-ge, fourth (older) brother, so Shen Shen appears to be the youngest of the Five Lakes sworn brothers, leading me to believe that some of what makes him so insufferable through a lot of the show is baby brother syndrome. Also, Shen Shen and his group find the Soul Winding Threads of the Hanged Ghost … supposedly. I mean, the Hanged Ghost was the guy who we saw get got in Ep 1, soooooo …. (remember these Soul Winding Threads, btw).

*This got super long so I’m’a put this last bit under a cut, but I did try to start a running tally of who’s holding a piece of the Glazed Armor:

Each of the Five Lakes Alliance sects is supposed to have a piece of the Glazed Armor, yes? So, as of the end of Ep 3 (hierarchical bro-titles are from didi Shen Shen’s POV):

- Yueyang Sect, led by Gao Chong (da-ge) - presumably still has his

- Tai Hu Sect, led by Zhao Jing (er-ge) – presumably still has his

- Danyang Sect, led by Lu Taichong (san-ge, presumably) – apparently the sect has already been attacked off-screen (by “Ghost Valley?” and WHEN?), as we learn in Ep 3 that Lu-zongzhu has been killed and his remaining two tiny disciples have fled to the protection of Ao Laizi and Tai Shan Sect, one of the lesser sects, and are believed to have taken Danyang’s Glazed Armor with them. We learn this from Tao Hong, Lv Liu and Begger Gang Chief, but I notice that Gao Chong only mentions the Mirror Lake massacre as the precipitating event for the Hero’s Conference and total war on Ghost Valley – he doesn’t even mention Danyang Sect, so does Five Lakes not know about this yet?

- Mirror Lake Sect, led by Zhang Yusen (si-ge) – Zhang-zongzhu killed by “Ghost Valley” in Ep 2, Glazed Armor “missing” and speculated POST EP 2 to have been taken by Ghost Valley (but will turn up in a few eps, thanks to our little Goldbean)

- Dagu Shan Sect, led by Shen Shen (wu-di) – presumably still has his

And then we move to:

- Tai Shan Sect, led by Ao Laizi – in-world speculation is that he now has the Danyang Glazed Armor. We do see him near the end of the ep with the two tiny Danyang shidi, where he makes the intriguing comment that he’s going to follow their shifu’s last wishes and keep their Glazed Armor from falling into the hands of the Five Lakes Alliance, so what exactly was going on between San-ge and his sworn brothers at the time of his death? This group also is apparently being pursued by Shen Shen to get their Glazed Armor, and they make him sound awful. You need better PR, Shen Shen.

- Ghost Valley – POST EP 2, speculated to have taken the Mirror Lake Glazed Armor (FALSE)

NOTABLY, “Ghost Valley Master” set a lot of this chaos in motion in Ep 1 when he claimed that Hanged Ghost (who got got a scene earlier) had stolen HIS piece of the Glazed Armor, although he shouldn’t have a piece (supposedly) until after Ep 2, when he’s believed to have taken Mirror Lake’s. So, what piece would that be, exactly, Terrifying Ghost Valley Master? You wouldn’t be lying in pursuit of chaos would you? (Somewhere, WKX gasps theatrically behind his fan, and he doesn’t even know what motivated it, this time.)

#zhou zishu #wen kexing #gu xiang #zhang chengling #shen shen #deng kuan #word of honor #word of honor episode reax

23 notes · View notes

liberty-barnes · 4 years

Text

Done Wondering

Jock!Tom Holland x Female!Reader

Highschool AU

@danicarosaline requested: Hi pretty!! i saw your requests are open so may i please request a jock Tom x reader! Tom is a big softy and the captain of his football team and reader is a tough ‘not taking shits from anybody’ type of person? Like Tom gets in an argument with a team mate and he’s being all nice and calm about it but reader thinks his team mate deserves a good punch in the face so she punches him and it shocks the entire team and Tom himself even though he expected it!!

Warnings: F L U F F, not sure that the football talk is 100% accurate, all I know about American football is that Tom Brady's a quarterback, their jerseys are cool and apparently I'm supposed to cheer for the Pats? (yeah, that's my dad's fault), B99 references (i fucking love that show), cursing, a bit of violence ig

Word Count: 2.3k words (why can i not write short things?)

Estimated Reading Time: 9 minutes

A/N: so sorry it took so long to get this out! also, i got waaaaaay to invested in this... oopsie

Masterlist

You ran across the field as people all around you celebrated with only one goal in mind: kiss your boyfriend.

You and Tom had been dating for almost seven months now, to many people's surprise. The entire school thought you'd be together for a week tops, but you surpassed all their expectations by becoming the longest standing couple in junior year (not that it was hard, high schoolers change partners like discardable gloves).

Tom was one of Sunset High's best and brightest, loved by the teachers, captain of the football team, and the object of many's affection.

You, however, were nothing like that. You hated sports (everyone knows art's better anyway), social interactions were your personal little slice of hell, and everyone was too scared to approach you since you threatened to gut Charles after he accidentally forgot to give you back your pencil.

All in all, there was no way you two could stay together.

There was no way you could even make a friendship work, let alone a romantic relationship.

But then there was that fateful summer night...

Your mind ran at a thousand miles an hour as you rocked in the park's nest swing. The stars looming over you were the only thing keeping you from spiraling, and after an hour of watching them, the peace in your mind was crumbling.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't see you there."

You sat up on the swing and looked to your right where stood a sheepish-looking Tom.

"It's okay, I should probably leave anyway..."

"No! I mean, it's okay, you were here first I didn't mean to disturb you."

You cast your eyes down until he spoke again.

"You go to my school, right? (Y/n)? We were in the same English class in freshman year."

"Yeah, I think so... I'm surprised you remember me, we didn't have any classes together last year..."

He huffed out a laugh and leaned against the support beam, hands in his pockets.

"It's kinda hard to forget someone like you. You stood up to the teacher on the first day after he yelled at a kid and spent the next year having actual coherent debates about the books that most of the class never even read, let alone understood. You're kind of amazing."

You ducked your head once more to try to cover the blush on your cheeks, biting your lip.

"Thanks."

He nodded and took a deep breath, then sat in front of you and pushed so the swing was rocking softly, always catching it before it hit his face.

You giggled a bit and sat criss-cross applesauce, back straight, your mother's words permanently etched into your brain.

"So, what are you doing alone in the town's most secluded park at midnight?"

"Oh, you know, questioning my life choices, freaking out because in three weeks we're going back to school while simultaneously feeling stir crazy after having nothing cool to do all summer, regretting ever being born, the usual. What about you?"

"Getting crushed by everyone's expectations, feeling constricted cause I have to set a good example for my little brothers, freaking out cause I have no idea what I want to do with my life, the usual."

A comfortable silence settled between you.

"Do our lives really suck or is it just the teenagers in us that dramatize everything?"

He huffed out a laugh.

"I don't know, tell me your story and I'll let you know."

You scooched to the side and patted the now empty spot on the too-small swing so he could lay down next to you. Looking at the stars seemed like a better idea than looking at him.

"I never really liked school, people are jerks, cafeteria food is disgusting at best, I have no friends -not that I care about that, I'm better off alone. Still, it's better than being home. When my father isn't working in his study, he's berating me about getting better grades, even though I'm a straight-A student, not that he cares enough to actually know that. My mother's usually either gossiping with her other rich friends or telling me to correct my posture, dress better, act like a lady, it's infuriating...

"My older brother, the only person in that family that I genuinely like, left for MIT today, so I guess I'm just now realizing that I'm really... alone. I'll have to suffer through my father's lectures about getting high grades and act like someone I'm not so my mother doesn't take away everything I love until I "learn to act like a respectable woman". Jake used to get them to lay off me, but now he's not here. Sometimes I wonder why they even adopted me if I'm such a bad daughter. It just sucks."

You felt his hand twitch next to yours and his eyes on your face.

"Your turn."

He took a shuddering breath before speaking.

"My parents are amazing, they really are, they only want what's best for me, but sometimes it's a little much. They constantly remind me of going to training, doing my homework, studying for tests, and even though they always say it's okay, I see the disappointment in their eyes when my grades lower even by a single point.

"My little brothers look up to me a lot, and they're always telling me how much they want to be just like me when they grow up. I know they mean it in the best possible way, but it's just that much more pressure. I just... feel the need to always be the best at everything. The best football player, the best captain, the best student, the kindest person in that school, most helpful... it's all a bit much."

This time, it was you who were looking at his profile while he gazed at the stars.

"It's okay to feel overwhelmed, Tom. It doesn't matter that they have the best intentions, they're still putting too much pressure on you and you deserve the chance to relax."

He turned towards you and for the first time that night, you realized just how close you were.

"You're not a bad daughter just because you have different interests. I, for one, think you are a strong and independent woman who doesn't need to change because of some mere peasants. You're a queen... You deserve someone that'll treat you as one."

Your breath caught in your throat as you locked eyes with him.

"Wanna make a deal?"

You nodded tentatively, though at this point you'd probably agree to murder someone as long as he kept looking at you that way.

"I'll be your friend, give you something to do whenever you need it, save you from your asshole parents and remind you of just how awesome you are every day..."

"And in return?"

"And in return, you'll say stuff like what you said before when I get too stuck in my head, save me from my so-called friends when they're being jerks, and come to every practice with me so you have something to do and I have someone to make silly faces at."

"I'm pretty sure there are a thousand girls in that school that would kill to have you make silly faces at them."

"Maybe so, but they aren't you. A lock of your hair is worth more than all of them combined."

You bit your lip and smiled.

"Okay."

"Cool."

He pecked you softly on the lips before he lost his nerve, quick and fleeting, feather-light but strong enough to leave fires in its wake. You pulled him back and gave him a slightly longer kiss before setting your head on his shoulder and going back to stargazing, now with someone to keep you company.

Three weeks later, you walked into school hand in hand and haven't let go since.

"Tommy!"

You jumped into his arms, ignoring the smell of sweat and how it would probably cling to your clothes.

"You did so good baby!"

He kissed you straight on the lips, not minding his teammate's wolf-whistles, having grown used to them already.

"I had a pretty good motivation."

"Oh?"

"Mm-hm, my girl told me she'd bake me cookies if I won this match, and I really like her cookies."

"Sounds like you have a great girlfriend."

"The best."

You kissed him again and he smiled when he felt the fabric of his spare jersey adorning your figure.

"Yo, Holland!"

You forced apart by Teddy's call, one of the newer players. Since you went to every single practice, you knew that Teddy was being an ass lately, always wanting the glory, never passing the ball to his teammates. If it weren't for Tom's skill as captain of the team, he would've cost them most matches, including this one.

"Why didn't you pass me the ball?"

"Pardon?"

"That last play, I was free and you passed the ball to Harrison even though he almost lost it. You should have passed it to me, we almost lost because you want to make your useless bestie feel included!"

"Johnson was closing in on you, if I'd passed it to you, we would have lost for sure. Passing it to Harrison bought me the time I needed to get out of danger. It was purely strategical, you would know that if you paid attention to your teammates instead of playing all on your own. Haz is an amazing player and I don't treat him differently just because he's my best friend. I'd like you to apologize to him, please, it's not kind to insult your teammates."

You admired the fact that he managed to remain calm and collected throughout the whole conversation, looking like the embodiment of 'I'm not mad, I'm disappointed'. You, however, were not having such an easy time keeping your cool, hands firmly clenched at your side.

"The hell it was! You just feel threatened by me because you'll never be as good as me, so you never pass me the ball, it's ridiculous!"

"Okay, buddy, you need to back the hell off and close your mouth before I punch it shut."

His eyes flickered to you and he rose a brow mockingly.

"Oh, your little slut's standing up for you know? I always knew you were a chicken, guess my theory's been pro-"

You cut him off with a punch to the nose, smiling when you heard the satisfying crack of his bones and his howls of pain.

A collective 'ooh' came from the crowd, and they took a few steps back (excluding Tom of course, who was only looking at you with wide eyes).

"What the fuck?"

"I warned you, didn't I?"

You smirked evilly as Teddy was pulled away by the coach to check his injury.

"You're a bitch!"

"Baddest of them all, sweetheart. Have a fun time at the hospital!"

The whole crowd had gone silent by the time you turned back around, seemingly satisfied with your vengeance.

"What?"

You tilted your head in confusion at the awestruck looks on the team's faces.

"You broke his nose!"

"Uh-huh."

"With just your hand."

"Uh-huh."

"Since when are you so violent?"

You were actually kind of offended at that.

"I know that I bring you guys snacks after practice, but do none of you hear when I threaten other people? It's a daily occurrence."

The rubbed their necks sheepishly.

"Well, you see..."

Haz started, seemingly measuring his words.

"You're kind of like Rosa from Brooklyn Nine-Nine. No one actually knows what you're capable of, no one thinks you'd actually kill someone, but we're also kind of too scared to test you, so we just... wonder."

"Well, when you're done wondering, go take a shower so we can go celebrate, I'm hungry."

They all scrambled away in a chorus of 'yes ma'am' before you turned back to Tom with a smile on your face.

"You didn't have to punch him, you know?"

"Yeah, but I've been wanting to for weeks now."

He huffed out a laugh and kissed your forehead.

"How're your knuckles?"

"A bit sore, but I'm pretty sure that if we put some ice it'll be good, the rings took most of the impact."

You wiggled your hand, showing off the array of rings covering your fingers in what you deemed to be an aesthetically pleasing way.

"I love you, babygirl."

You kissed him, smiling into his lips.

"I love you too. Now go, shower!"

You patted his butt and laughed at the look he threw you, standing next to the field while you waited for them to get out.

Their coach came to stand next to you and you smiled at him, having taken a liking for him. He was a good teacher and treated the team well.

"Coach Jeffords."

"(Y/n)."

"What's the verdict?"

"Nurse says it's broken but we'll only know the full extent of his injuries after he gets examined at the ER. He's on his way there as we speak."

You nodded.

"You'll be pleased to know that he's been taken off the team and suspended for a week for unruly behavior. His parents aren't going to press charges since they feel it's deserved."

You smirked evilly.

"I'd advise you to watch out for Pembroke. He's starting to become a nuisance. If he keeps it up, he might be next."

He nodded, fighting back his smile even though you knew damn well he agreed.

"I'll do my best."

"And I'll do mine."

"(Y/n)! Ready to go?"

You nodded in goodbye at the coach and walked over to a freshly showered Tom, interlacing your fingers.

"Always."

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

Taglists: (if your name is striked through it means for some reason tumblr wouldn’t let me tag you)

PERMA TAG

@jeezkiddo @beananacake @yoinkyourheart @averyfosterthoughts @onebigolemess @samoney69 @agirlwithpointlessideas @ddaawwssoonn @inhumanwithpowers @imagineshere-forall @stiles-banshees @orowit @spideynut @deathofmissjackson @ephemeral-limerences @write-from-the-heart @cardboard-ben @my-alignment-is-bisexual @mendes-marvel @shawnsnovel @inthecornerchair @lovelynerdytraveler @niallssweetheart22

ACTORS/RPF TAG

@bubblegumbarnes @sofiaconlaz

TOM HOLLAND TAG

@tomsirishgirlx @dreaming-lia @markleehee @juliebean247 @gypsystuf @quechulitaaa @theoretical-theo @bubblegumbarnes @sofiaconlaz @underooling @hannahholland1811 @bellaaa321-blog @parkerpetertingle @emily-louise-hynes @clara-licht @ekelly2015 @inlovewithmobtom @quaksonhehe @danicarosaline @arts-ismything @peachyafshawn @tutuabby28 @sovereignparker @tokhalaxoxo @cathwritestragediesnotsins @incorrect-things

#tom holland x reader #tom holland imagine #tom holland fluff #tom holland #jock!tom #jock!tom x reader #high school #high school au #mcu #avengers #marvel #mcu spiderman #peter parker x reader #peter parker #peter parker imagine #peter parker fluff #harrison osterfield #haz osterfield #fluff

514 notes · View notes

coffeecomicsgalore · 3 years

Text

Navigating the Chaos

Ao3

@adrinetteapril

Chapter 13: Family

When Adrien reemerged from behind the curtain after his presentation of the Showcase piece alongside his father, Marinette immediately recognized that something was wrong. He was smiling, but it wasn’t his Adrien smile, the same smile she had fallen in love with again after becoming close friends. It was the closely guarded model smile, as they both called it, the one where he pretended that all was right with the world. He seemed frazzled on top of it, and was frantically searching with his eyes while his body seemed to walk strategically around. She stood up and walked towards him, hoping that by seeing her, he could relax a bit. She was glad that doing so made him find her quickly, some of the tension leaving his body the moment his eyes landed on hers.

“Are you okay?” Marinette asked the moment he stood in front of her. Adrien only nodded, looking down to hide what looked to be unshed tears threatening to fall.

Marinette frantically looked around to see if Gabriel happened to appear around the corner of the curtain just to spy on him. She just knew he had something to do with Adrien’s bleak expression.

“How about we leave and get some fresh air?”

Adrien was about to say something when Gorilla appeared beside him.

“I-I can’t. I, um. I have to get going. Father wants us to bring you home before we do, though.”

Marinette pressed her lips into a firm line, wishing so much to punch Gabriel in the face. She chose to keep her silence, grabbing onto Adrien’s waiting elbow to be escorted out of the gala. She just wished she could say anything to make him feel better, anything to make the pain go away.

---

Marinette paced her room once she arrived home from the Agreste mansion. She had to go there first to remove the Gabriel items, but was quickly rushed home without Adrien in tow. He had muttered something about seeing her later when he pressed a kiss to her cheek in thanks for coming, but soon was following Gabriel into his atelier without another word.

She knew it had something to do with the lipstick that she couldn’t swipe off his lips during the red carpet portion of the event, but something inside was also screaming it was something else. She impatiently waited for the sounds of taps on her rooftop, but as the minutes passed by with no sign of her kitty, she was beginning to spiral into a panic.

“Calm down, Marinette. He’ll be here soon.” Tikki tried to assure her.

“But what if he’s grounded?” She said quickly, looking at her phone for any messages. “What if his dad locked the windows? Maybe I should go out and see if he’s okay. Maybe see if he needs my help?”

“Master, you must calm down. We do not need to see an akuma tonight.” Wayzz added, trying to calm the frantic girl from falling apart.

“I just—” Marinette’s eyes widened as soft taps could be heard, and she didn’t wait a second longer than necessary to let him in. She rushed up to her loft and opened the skylight, pulling him in by his wrist as he was about to knock on the glass.

“Chaton.” She said, pulling him into a viselike hug.

Chat squeezed her back tightly, finally releasing the tears that he’d been holding since earlier. He let go of his transformation with a nearly silent mutter, and Plagg immediately snuggled into Adrien’s neck with a calming purr. The rest of the kwamis noticed his distressed disposition and quickly took their place on different parts of his body, all snuggling him and keeping him safe as he cried out his troubles.

When Adrien’s sobs turned into sniffles, he slowly released himself from Marinette’s hold, but the kwamis still held him close until he felt truly safe from an akumatization.

“Thanks guys.” He sniffed, rubbing his eyes and cheeks to dry them from the sticky tear tracks. “I swear you guys are more like family to me than my own family is.”

Marinette couldn’t believe the sad tone that came with his words, but she knew that things were not nearly as okay as he made it seem. When the kwamis finally left and only Plagg and Tikki remained beside him, Marinette laid him down on the bed next to her and wrapped an arm around him. He nuzzled into neck as she ran her hand through his hair, humming quietly until he felt ready to talk.

“He was furious.” He finally said after a few moments of silence. “He noticed the lipstick immediately and Nathalie had to do extra PR to ensure it was part of my look and not the makings of an established relationship. While he said we could be friends, and that one day I could ask you to be my girlfriend, he didn’t approve of me to do it yet.” He sniffed, trying to hold back tears that wanted to fall again. “It’s not good for the brand for me to be in a relationship. He thinks that it would ruin my innocence and that I shouldn’t be invested in something at my age. So, because of his furiousness and all that ‘fun stuff’, he told me that we needed to break up or else your little career would be over before you could say Marinette’s Designs.”

Marinette squeezed him as her anger took precedence, but she drew in a calming breath as she refocused her attention on her boyfriend.

“I know. I’m angry too. It’s okay to be angry, Marinette. I just- I just can’t believe that he would dangle something that means so much to me and take it away.”

“I do.” She mumbled out, not realizing she said it loud enough for him to hear. He looked up with a furrow of his brow until he realized exactly what she was talking about.

“School?”

“School. Friends. New York. I probably could list more but I’m too exhausted to think.” Marinette said tiredly, moving her fingers once again in his hair. “At least this time we can see each other like this.”

“Yeah,” he said, sighing out some of the tension in his chest. “You’re right. But it sucks. I planned on taking you out like the princess you are. Now I can’t do that.”

“Why can’t we? We can still do it as friends, we will just have to have Alya and Nino come with us so it doesn’t look like a date, just a friendly group outing, and then they can ‘mysteriously’ disappear, leaving us alone to our own accord.” She smiled mischievously and Adrien chuckled at her smirk.

“I like that idea…” He leaned in, kissing her softly on the lips, allowing the love from her to overcome him.

Marinette hummed in bliss before leaning her forehead against his. “Plus, what’s another secret? Not much considering the reason behind it. And we’ll make sure to keep Alya and Nino in the loop so they know and help us.”

“Thank you.”

“For you Adrien? Anything to make you happy.”

#adrinette #adrinetteapril2021 #a bit of Marichat #mostly Adrienette #Gabriel's A+ Parenting

26 notes · View notes

fanficsforheartandsoul · 4 years

Text

Haunted | [Darth Maul x Fem!Reader x Savage Opress]

Notes:

Lol I said only 1k per request but well… I got too invested xD

Haha, it happened again xD I hope this is somehow what you expected, Anon. Thank you for your request!

Fandoms: Star Wars, The Clone Wars

Warnings: Angst, Death, Alcohol Use, Mention of Rape, Slight OOC, Fluff

Summary: Some men follow Y/N after she got drunk at a bar. She’s not capable of protecting herself but thankfully she has two knights with red lightsabers who take care of her pursuers..

Word Count: 2′262

Taglist: @princessayveke

If you want to be tagged in my stories send me a pm with the fandom/character name! Or comment on the fic :)

Masterlist

This is loosely based off my Cold Skins and Warm Hearts oneshot!

They hadn't seen each other for a long time.

Well, it was understandable, the brothers were at one end of the galaxy, causing havoc for the Republic, while she was laying low somewhere on Corellia.

But although all three of them were busy, they thought of each other from time to time. The brothers more often than her though.

They could not forget their last encounter, the feelings still too prominent. They needed an answer.

What feelings did the woman have for them? Were they indeed just platonic?

So it was no wonder that they actively searched for her.

And albeit she was trying to lay low, they found her rather easily because of her force presence. Both of the Zabrak could not forget its radiating pull after all.

But when the brothers found her, they also encountered annoying pests.

Obviously, they would get rid of them immediately.

Y/N did not have the energy for any trouble today.

She had been feeling unsafe for a week now, but she wrote it off as her being paranoid after all the things she had gone through.

It wasn't a mystery she knew she had some trauma after having fought for the Jedi for so long. Her nightmares were proof of that.

Usually, she wouldn't have tried to find comfort at the bottom of a bottle, but after feeling so stressed out, the fiery heat of Corellian Whiskey felt satisfying in her throat.

She did drink more than she should have, though.

But there was no one to tell her to stop, she was her own master now, and she enjoyed it.

But when she stumbled home, her hand on her lightsaber, while her head spun, she did not expect to be followed.

She didn't notice at first, her attention muddled from all the alcohol. But after somebody walked by, and rudely bumped into her, Y/N felt a little less smashed, and therefore she noticed the eyes on her that followed her body's every move. An uncomfortable feeling rose in her stomach, and she turned her head slightly to look if somebody was pursuing her, but she was too intoxicated to see clearly.

The streets in her district were all dimly lit, and only the cantinas and occasional dancer bars had flickering neon lights, which made it hardly possible to see the faces of the few people who were still awake at this hour.

But she could feel that someone was tailing her.

Her hand automatically reached for her lightsaber, but there was nothing at her hip.

Fuck, I didn't take it with me!

She cursed inwardly and quickened her pace.

The knowledge of being watched sobered her up enough to remember that she didn't have that many options anymore when it came to a fight. The force wasn't with her any longer.

Y/N hadn't been able to use it for a few weeks now, that's why she had decided to move away from the Outer Rims where the chance of getting into a fight was much higher.

But maybe she had made the wrong choice with Corellia.

The woman knew that she couldn't possibly hold her guard against several attackers while she was drunk. Hence, she could only flee.

As soon as she turned around a corner, she began to run.

Genuine fear trickled through her veins, and the former Jedi felt nauseous.

If she got caught...

She had a good idea of what could happen and desperately wished that it wouldn't come that far.

Her breath quickened, she knew she was close to a panic attack, and she dreaded it.

Y/N saw the familiar green glow of the bar one block away from her small run-down apartment, and she breathed out in relief, only to catch her foot in a pothole and crash face down onto the pavement.

Her whole world spun, and she knew she was only a few seconds away from throwing up when she heard footsteps approach the alley she had just turned into.

Fuck, here we go.

She struggled to get on her knees when a gloved hand suddenly materialized before her, and a deep soothing voice said:

"Do you need help?"

She tilted her head upwards and could make out a tall figure with horns.

"Sa-Savage?"

Her voice was weak, and before she could even think about why the Zabrak was here, she wheezed and crumbled, her adrenaline rush and fear too overbearing that she fell unconscious.

Maul and Savage hadn't expected to see the woman, who had entranced them both, in such a miserable state.

They had been following her to the bar, trying to come up with a plausible reason why they suddenly showed up, their pride too big to actually just tell the true reason.

Savage just wanted to walk right in there and say hi, but his older brother wanted to follow the woman some more from the shadows.

Something was different about her, and they would find out what it was.

So they waited, waited for a very long time.

"She seems to be quite a drinker", commented Savage, surprised about the revelation.

Both of them wouldn't have expected that.

Y/N L/N didn't seem like a big fan of alcohol. To tell the truth, if they remembered correctly, she had rejected the wine when they had met for the third time.

So it seemed rather weird for the former Jedi to suddenly go and visit a bar to drink.

But neither of them knew what had happened to the woman in the last few months, so they couldn't judge if something was wrong with her.

They loitered around in a small alley from where they had a good view of the bar's entrance. Savage almost fell asleep when his brother gave him a shove, and he stood up out of reflex.

Maul pressed a finger to his lips and pointed at a small figure leaving the bar.

Both could immediately feel the connection they had somehow established that one night on Ilum. The emotions from their connection felt weirdly numb.

Savage frowned, and the two used the force to jump on the small building to get a better view of Y/N.

If they followed her directly she would probably notice them too soon, and they wanted to avoid that. Although it seemed unlikely that the former Jedi would spot them.

The woman walked like a sailor, she staggered forward, clearly having drunk too much for her good.

Worry sprouted in both the brothers' chests, and they followed her silently. Y/N followed the main road, but then she suddenly froze.

It was only for a second, but her head turned back as if she was searching for something. Maul immediately noticed what she was looking for.

A group of men loafed in a dark corner and ogled the woman hungrily. They seemed to discuss something, and right when Y/N turned back around and started to move faster, they left their corner and began to pursue her.

Maul concentrated on the force, and he could feel the malicious intentions of the group.

"...Let's get her today, I know her usual route and..."

His eyes darkened considerably, anger burned in his chest, and he said with a growling undertone:

"You go get her, I'm going to crush some insects."

Savage eyed him from the side, but when he followed the other Zabrak's nod and heard a snippet of the men's conversation, his expression turned sour too, and he snarled:

"Leave some for me, brother."

Maul rolled his shoulder, and right before Savage jumped to the next building, he uttered:

"No promises, these bastards made a mistake I can't forgive."

He jumped down the building and landed silently right behind a closed food stall.

The men noticed how Y/N turned around a corner, and they hastily followed her. He did too.

He stalked them like prey, contemplating whether using his lightsaber to obliterate these bugs would cause him more satisfaction than his fists.

They rounded another corner when they began to run, and Maul decided now was the time to strike. He used the force to close the distance between him and the five men.

His yellow eyes glistened with rage, but the Zabrak tried to restrain himself.

"Good evening, gentlemen", he greeted them with a silky voice.

They turned around abruptly, definitely not liking his sudden appearance.

"What do you want?", asked one of them annoyed.

He was a dirty looking human with bleary eyes. He wasn't the only one who seemed to have drunk too much.

The alcohol plume around the men stank terribly, and Maul snarled in disgust.

"Oh, I only wanted to inform you that you shall not live to see the dawn in the next few hours."

Before one of them could even react, he had clenched his raised hand to a fist, and the only Twi'lek of the group began to cough and grab his throat. He crushed the man's windpipe, while his friends shouted in disbelief and shock.

Maul sneered at their cowardice, and he gleefully wiped out their lives and disgusting plans they had harbored for his love.

"How dare you look at Y/N with such disgusting thoughts!", he lost his cool and punched one of the men repeatedly, not even showing mercy when the men's face was completely bashed in.

The noise of breaking bones and their blood-curling screams resounded in the alley, but no one came looking.

"How convenient", muttered Maul and shook his fist, but then he changed his mind.

The ignorance of the Corellians might have killed Y/N if he and his brother hadn't shown up.

The burning fury in his chest did not diminish, instead, it burned even brighter, and he couldn't stop himself from crushing one of the dead men's skull under his boot.

The crunch calmed him down a little, and he wiped his shoe at one of the other dead bodies.

Satisfied, Maul turned, and he strode into the alley where Y/N had disappeared, only to see the woman crumble and fall right into his brother's arms.

"Y/N!" both he and Savage shouted at the same time, full of worry.

When she woke up, she was wrapped in a warm embrace. Her head pounded, and she frowned in pain.

Where am I? What happened?

She turned her head only to look straight into Darth Maul's face, the Zabrak she had kissed only a few months ago.

She blinked, then noticed the arm on her hip didn't belong to Maul.

A sigh escaped her lips, and she could imagine what had happened.

It didn't really surprise her to see the brothers, although it probably should have. But it wasn't the first time where they just showed up out of nowhere.

Y/N breathed out slowly and right when she wanted to sit up, a deep voice muttered:

"You're awake."

She turned to her left, Savage's sunflower eyes boring straight into her.

"Hi", he whispered breathlessly, and she couldn't stop herself from grinning weakly.

"Kind of a weak greeting, if we think about the fact that we're laying in bed together, wouldn’t you say?"

The Zabrak's cheeks tinted, and her grin widened.

The younger brother had a shy side to himself, and she loved it. Mainly because it was such a huge contrast to his tall and intimidating looks. But then he grabbed her hip tighter, and she couldn't stop herself from shrieking.

His face was suddenly way too close, and he eyed her lips with a somewhat hungry look.

"Are you suggesting something?", he whispered, and his deep voice resonated in her ears.

A pleasant shiver ran down her spine but then a voice interrupted them:

"Savage."

It was only a single word from his brother, but both the yellow Zabrak and Y/N could hear the threatening undertone and the warning in it.

She turned again, and Maul squinted his eyes at her.

"Good to see you too", she mocked, and he lifted an eyebrow.

"Is it?"

The mattress dipped behind her when Savage shifted and supported his head on his arm.

"Would you mind explaining why you drowned yourself in alcohol only to almost get raped?"

Y/N stiffened, she remembered the last week of feeling unsafe, and she couldn't stop herself from sinking deeper into the bed, her shoulders quivering slightly.

"I-I was...", she tried to find some words to explain, but the fact that Maul's angry words held so much truth hit her right in the gut.

She could have been raped. Or kidnapped and killed.

She remembered her sad attempts of using the force but not succeeding, and she blinked, tears forming in her eyes. She stared at the ceiling of the brother's spaceship, not noticing how Maul's anger turned into worry, and both brothers watched her with burning gazes.

"Don't worry", said Savage finally, "you're safe now."

Maul brushed a strand of hair out of her face and Savage wiped her left eye just in case.

Y/N breathed out slowly, her voice shaky when she muttered:

"Thanks, guys. I'm really happy to see you again."

Both Zabrak flashed a grin and then the younger asked:

"What to sleep some more? You seem to need it."

She nodded and yawned as if to confirm his words.

Y/N smiled and warmth spread in her chest, when they wrapped their arms around her again.

Both brothers simultaneously tilted their heads to give her a kiss on her forehead, but what she didn't notice was the jealous glares they sent each other when they moved back.

"Sleep some more, Y/N. We got you."

#Star wars #star wars the clone wars #jedi #sith #jedi reader #fem reader #x fem reader #darth maul #savage opress #darth maul x fem reader #darth maul x reader #savage opress x reader #savage opress x fem reader #reader #fanficsforheartandsoul #fanfics #the clone wars #zabrak

121 notes · View notes