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lestwritewhilewaitingforajobcall · 3 years

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The Spark That Split the Seas - Poseidon x Reader x Thor

(A/N)

Hey guys I’m back! I’ve been grinding hard for a new character that I’d gotten in this game, Genshin Impact, so I’m sorry for the absence! Anyways, as always, I want to thank you all for the support on my past two stories and on my account, I truly appreciate every one of you! On a story-related note, since I’d mentioned on my previous post that I had a lot of Poseidon x Reader x Thor fics written in my drafts, I decided to post one so you guys could also join me in the feels! Any feedback would be appreciated! This was originally shorter than the final story you’re seeing now, as I’d first only written their dialogues, but as usual, I excitedly itched into making a story out of it!

This is for entertainment only. Record of Ragnarok belongs to Shinya Umemura, Takumi Fukui and Ajichika. I also do not own you, the reader.

The Spark That Split the Seas

Poseidon x Reader x Thor

For more than all the millennia the gods and other species alike had known the lonely kingdom of Atlantis, never once did the crashing waves gave way to the chirping of the largest Albatrosses until now. Otherworldly flying creatures joined with the familiar exclusively earthly ones in enjoying the ebb and flow of the ocean, albeit this time, the hungry ocean appeared more satiated and seemed to follow a regular pattern ‘from sudden crash to a long calm, to crash again then back to another lengthy calm;’ life in the sea rejoiced in this odd occurrence.

Beautiful yellow sun rays poured through the stained-glass windows, casting a kaleidoscope pattern on the large interiors of the kingdom ruled by the god of the seas, and catching the reflection of his nonchalant visage. The long, elegant dining table filled with every kind of seafood delectable imaginable also fell victim to the light, along with a figure that sat down opposite, whose invitation was clear.

Hidden from this heavenly atmosphere were the prying eyes of a little messenger bird who stood unobtrusively behind one of the tall pillars near the far end of the room, halting his slide just in time to witness this miracle:

The living bearer of the most fearsome title, the ruler of both this grandiose palace of the most precious gems and coral and all the oceans and waters, the almighty Poseidon, though against all reason and self-proved authority whatsoever, against the epics of Greek poets, was indulged, seemingly willingly, in the pleasure of having another’s company. In the shadows, Hermes’ red eyes shot wide open in shock.

Poseidon, the ever abrupt and rude god who had deemed most beings to be below him, received a guest, a still breathing one at that.

What in the gods’ name?

In a tone of haughty contempt, a grunt escaped from Poseidon’s lips. Finishing chewing the last bite of delicious food in your mouth, you nodded your head in earnest agreement with his point. Your next words were uttered with the firmness of an old sage who had all the answers, your beliefs shaped by the countless lifetimes you had lived.

“Existing is painful.” Your shoulders bobbed with your chuckle.

Although Poseidon felt a small measure of relief−a feeling that by habit had always been easy to brush-off with a condescending thought, his face betrayed nothing as his stoic features remained still. “If you agree, then why not allow me to kill you this instant?” As if to emphasize his strength, the crashing sound of dreadful combat between waves and rocks rang in the air, and you almost wished that a low rumble of thunder accompanied it, finding beauty in its loud peals, and additionally giving a volume of inspiration to Michelangelo below.

Despite your gaze being unrequited, you were sure you had the god’s attention. Since arriving here, Poseidon noted that your expression had always been smoothed into a calm, smiling one. “If you had intended to kill me, we would not be having this conversation right now.”

Poseidon sat rigid and silent.

“It’s a comfortingly tragic drama, my circle of life. I may not have been lucky to acquire a life as long as that of the gods, but I have definitely lived more times than you have.” Your words were so nonchalant, for a second there Poseidon thought you were kidding.

“That is for the simple fact that you mortals are weak, pathetic.” Lips as pink as young petunias touched the clear edge of the wine glass as Poseidon’s eyes closed, content to give over to listen.

“Yes, we are.” You paused. “But because of this frailty, we learned to adapt, evolve.”

“There is no need for evolution if you are perfect from the moment of conception. Hence why gods such as I, will always be above you.”

“You’re correct. Humans will never become gods after all,” Again, Poseidon found himself absorbing your words like a sponge. At the same time, he experienced an occasional sharp prick at the edge of his emotions, as if signaling him to pull back. “The same as gods will never become like humans.”

“Extremely foolish of you to think that trash is worthy of the shiniest Orichalcum. Your race has been created by us, for us, and will therefore always be inferior.”

“Humans are inferior in all aspects, this, is a fact. It is hence no accident that there is a history of rebellion and consequently, a false notion of superiority. But to be able to look beyond this, is to understand that we never truly intended to surpass animals nor the gods themselves. The nature of our desire: everything was meant for either survival or man’s search for meaning.

“We are by nature flawed and inconsistent creatures. And as you have no doubt seen for yourself as well, despite reaching all our goals, achieving our wildest dreams, we have never reached a position where satisfaction is achieved.” Keenness made your words sound almost heroic. There was a twinkle in your eye and a lilt in your voice, and Poseidon found that now he had a much clearer picture of your reputation for an irrepressible desire to see what is beyond your reach as you questioned: “If I may ask, as I have seen the gods share this sentiment of looking for meaning, do you feel an inkling of the same?”

When Poseidon had put the wine glass down, he hesitated a moment, his supposedly closed mind wavering between doubt and certainty. He would never come to understand this, nor admit to feeling this dissonance, but at last, he shook his head at his consideration, trying to reduce the unpleasantness he felt by the same way he had always used to get out of extremely rare difficulties.

“Do not disrespect me, mortal.” He knew himself that it was an empty threat.

“Those were never my intentions.” You bowed with great respect, but there was at the same time apparent in your manner the consciousness that while Poseidon would never in any way confirm your statement, he did not necessarily refute it. Your heart rose in gratitude as you regarded him with a look of affection, believing in your intellectual companionship.

“Lord Poseidon, as the fearsome god of the seas, what is the meaning of life for you?” The god surveyed your reflection in one of the golden plates, and maybe it was because he had acted in a charitable way towards you, but he saw brightness, a refreshing difference, as if there were no heavy shackles to weigh you down.

“My husband has always been in search of a worthy opponent. What about you?”

It was like a pin came dangerously close to the rational bubble of Poseidon’s beliefs. But then your words penetrated his mind, and he berated himself for almost falling prey, yet…

“Perfection.” Poseidon blurted out loud, full of self-indulgence, but uncomfortable with the thought of pity reeking from his pores, a role that was clearly uncharacteristic of him.

Tilting your head, your brows meshed inquisitively upon hearing this. “This presents the conundrum; you are already perfect, as should all the gods. Since you have explained, gods have always been pristine, perfect, the moment you all were born.

“So, if you have already achieved the meaning and purpose of your life, what is there left to live for?” There was something entrancing in your guileless form, and Poseidon was displeased that another should feel such an interest in your wise, unguarded character. “And if gods have already reached perfection, why is there an endeavor still for the dross of earth?”

For the first time in Poseidon’s life, he was receptive of contraries. Not one single time, had he ever been in the position where he listened, much more considered the act of interpretation. What he said goes, but for some frustrating reason, he was coming to terms of mutual respect; whenever he was sitting opposite you, chin in hand, the more he caught the flame.

Quickly, he stopped that train of thought and he seamed his mouth, stoic. Only his eyes betrayed a spark of defiance. “Stop asking ridiculous questions.”

Again, you bowed. “I apologize if I have overstepped such boundaries.”

“You better be.” With a look of eager inquiry, Poseidon asked, “Why are you not afraid of me? Is it because you are confident Thor would protect you?” One thing that distressed him was that the more he was alone with you, the more he saw your hands, always ungloved, noticed the wedding-ring on your finger. That closed circle excluded him, his face registering the insult. “As expected from a repulsive weakling,”

“No. I know he would be there for me whenever I should need him, and also the times when I don’t.” You said still a smile on your mouth.

Although you were unaware of the eagle eyes that were watching your every move, you had the instinct. You did not need all the information, and you had nothing to hide. Your shoulders were loose, back wasn’t ramrod straight and you exuded a carefree attitude. “The sole reason why my fears have dissipated is because perhaps, I enjoy your conversation.”

To say this whole exchange took Hermes by surprise would be an understatement. After the initial expression of shock, he laughed lowly.

You continued, “I have already accepted your beliefs. No one is entitled to those except yourself.

“If I were to die from imparting what my beliefs are, that is simply fate, a tragedy, but nonetheless, fate. Of course, I would try my best to avoid disappearing from this lifetime, seeing as I have made a promise with my husband, to continue to fight for my life, shall needed, until the very end.” Poseidon’s grip tightened the slightest bit.

“I believe that despite our obvious differences, we are simply two being who each have our own unique experiences that shape our views and beliefs. For hundreds of millennia, I’d seen calamity from all angles; mainly conflicts over a universal truth,

“But so long as there are questions, there will never be one solid concrete truth. And I’m okay with that.” You concluded.

Compliments never rolled off Poseidon’s tongue easily, since in his view they were nothing but hollow words. But this time, he could hardly slip a word in bad taste. He thought it pleasant to hear you, but it could not distract him from the uninvited presence in his throne room.

“You’re a heretic.” His usual strong voice beckoned your attention, discerning the sternness on the table of his expression to be forced. No matter, you had just enough of a last glimpse to see his face looking younger in repose.

“I have been labeled as such.” You noticed the unique rhythm of the crashing waves seemed to have settled along the sand grains, and you admitted it was so beautiful and timeless.

“You’re dismissed.” Poseidon believed in being straightforward with affairs. Since the conversation has ended, the final interchange of words was not likely to be a substantive one. Though this was his original reason, the face at the forefront of his mind right now was not yours but Hermes’.

You stood up and curtsied to show your gratitude. “Very well. It was splendid to be in your company this afternoon.”

Blue eyes followed you as you began walking away, and he watched you until you went out of sight when you began to ascend the Skíðblaðnir, a ship so completely reserved only for you by the Kingdom of the Norse. Then Poseidon’s ears turned toward the messenger’s direction.

Hermes quickly dashed to Poseidon and knelt to greet him with such a great respect akin to the expectations all elderly gods have always expected of their younger ones.

“We gods are perfect beings from the very start; therefore, we do not plot schemes nor engage in disagreements.” The implication registered with a jolt, and Hermes felt his mouth open as the real reason for your invitation became clear. He fought the urge to look at where Adamas had died brutally as a lowlife, not failing to recognize that this was the exact opposite of that faded history.

Finding quiet when Hermes immediately left, the god of the seas stared at his dominion, taking deep breaths of the air, not feeling the normal icy sting carried by the ocean. Over again he dwelt upon in his conversations with you, interested to find out if the Norse god of thunder had been able to sustain a similar type of conversation.

The very first quiver of interest sparked through Poseidon and though he did not recognize it nor perceived it, he understood the most important things, the only ones he ever needed to:

You did not seek validation nor attention. You had no fear of death, neither of the hardships of life.

Your depths of wisdom were unparalleled throughout the realms, which he would comment on its wasted potential, however, he knew Hermes already understood that part of it.

And the god of messenger did, as the word got around slowly but surely:

“There would always be those who dare to brave the ocean’s roar, but there was only one who withstood it.”

#poseidon x reader #thor x reader #snv x reader #snv poseidon #snv thor #shuumatsu no valkyrie #snv poseidon x reader #snv thor x reader #record of ragnarok poseidon x reader #record of ragnarok x reader #record of ragnarok #record of ragnarok thor x reader #poseidon x reader x thor #snv poseidon x reader x snv thor

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cheekygreenty · 3 years

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His Queen - The Darkling x Reader

bitch, I think I outdid myself on this one. I'm shocked I wrote this

He hated the Tsar. He hated himself, but he didn't hate you. How could he of let this happen, he's never been a slave to his emotions. You were married, no, scratch that, you were the Queen for Saint's Sake. The Tsar had made it common knowledge that you didn't belong anywhere but the Grand Palace, in a glittering gown and a jeweled crown upon your always perfect hair sitting in front of a fire sipping on your tea. He wanted you nowhere near the action or actual Palace life. You were merely an accessory to him.

The young and innocent girl raised in nobility, who caught the old bastard's eye by fluttering your eyelashes at him, longing for his person.

Bullshit.

Aleksander could see your repulsion whenever you were in your husband's presence. The longing eyes as you looked at the doors, the shiver that rattled your spine as his sweaty hand gripped yours, or the increasing sadness in your eyes as the months went on. The jewels around your neck glistened, but your eyes didn't. Not anymore.

He had done some digging in the months following the wedding, and rest assured you didn't belong anywhere near the palace. You were scrappy, ready for a fight at all times. There were numerous accounts of you running around villages, fighting your way through pubs and inns. Your parents, the Duke and Duchess, were downright ashamed of you before your big day. You were itching to drop everything and join the First Army the second you had the chance. You were skilled in ways no noble was; you had street smarts.

Then the late Queen died and you were presented on a silver platter to the King, donning all the family jewels that never sit quite right. The King couldn't help himself, the public blamed the grief for his hasty marriage, 'he needed a companion.' But in reality, he saw what he could have and grasped you up the second he had the chance. And now you were stuck here, in a cage with no way out.

Aleksander didn't take a liking to you at the start. All he saw was what the King wanted him to see and for that, he feels tremendous guilt. He thought you to be proper and uptight and spoiled, so when you approached him the first time, franticly asking for advice about a simple state matter that was dropped into your lap by the General himself, he couldn't help but snigger at you and convey news of the stupid Queen to his fellow Grisha.

He didn't know the King treated you like a child or that all of this was new to you. I should've seen it he cursed himself, for the weeks to follow you were the talk of both the Palaces and news spread to camps on the front.

The stupid, young, ditsy girl who couldn't put together a luncheon for Ravka's war heroes was the Queen. Ridiculous.

He believed it too until he had seen you out one night when he couldn't sleep. You were deep in the forest, tending to your black stallion and in what looked like peasant clothing. You had mud on your boots and your hair was messily braided. There was a tatted punching bad tied up on a tree and another person sitting against a log, breathing heavily and clutching his side. Aleksander never made himself known, just blended into the darkness as he did best but continued to watch you eagerly. Only then did he faintly make out your bruised knuckles and the tears in your breeches.

'Again?'

'Saints Y/N no, I've got a way to go and the way you just bruised my ribs, I've a painful journey ahead of me' mused the sitting man.

That night, Aleksander sent out his best Grisha to collect information and asked Genya to tend to you, but you denied yet again (only after asking her to fix up your hands).

Ever since then, Aleksander has been observing you and getting to know you when he could, telling his Grisha it was to gather information since Genya was no longer garnering the Queen's secrets, but he felt drawn to you for whatever reason. You were the best part of his day; whether it was a simple smile sent his way or you rambling about the ways you avoid being followed around the palace, he listened intently and set the shared memories into his brain.

The General was a mystery to you. With his extremely handsome face and confident stances, he mesmerized you to the point of a blank mind. Whenever your eyes met his, it could be in a room of 60 people, rest assured you were right by his side in an instant. You had sought out his presence wherever you went and clung to it while you could.

But the King had made his opinion of the Darkling obvious, and his hatred ran deep. 'He likes to think he rides a horse above everyone else.' 'He's most unnatural.' You didn't care though. As long as he kept himself away from you and just used his words and not actions, you were fine.

You had gathered a particular kindness for late evening walks before bed, silently slipping onto the grounds of his palace, awaiting his companionship. It might have only been 40 minutes out of your day, but it was always better than not seeing him.

Ivan had pointed out that you had an air of hostility around you every time you were in a room with your husband and your heart tended to beat dangerously fast as if you were panicking. So Aleksander attempted to pull you away from him and distract you from the horrid man, and it seemed to work. He grew to like you and would miss your witty humor when he went back to the Little Palace.

Months had passed and he never grew sick of your presence, ironically he craved more of it. He tried to tell himself that you were just a part of his plan, nothing more, but things got even more complicated. He had accidentally mentioned seeing you that night in the forest, and instead of being hostile about it, you told him you enjoyed a fight or two and invited him to join you. That night, after multiple rounds of sparring and hard hits, he kissed you fervently. And again and again, until you both got past the point of going back.

You acknowledged the risk only after it happened and started to panic. You had an affair with the General of the Second Army. He seemed to be in the same state as you. But before you went your separate ways, he held you in his arms and promised it would all be ok. You believed him.

He got back to his chambers that night and his demeanor changed behind the closed doors. He was so mad. He always swore to take what the King loved most and destroy it before his very eyes, but this was a sick joke the Saints played on him. He needed to protect you, get you out of the Tsar's grip, and hide you away from any harm. There was nothing he wouldn't do to keep you out of danger's way and he knew it. Why did he let this happen? He knew that whatever your ending may be, you would get hurt, maybe not physically, but definitely emotionally.

You had told him of all the things the King did to you, how he treated you and paraded you around. You begged Aleksander to do something about it, to help you get out of that life and back to your old one, but there was nothing he could do and it broke his heart.

'I wish I could do something Y/N, I truly do, but I am not as powerful as you may think I am. The King is still the King' he had told you, guilt building in him.

He was sitting at his desk in his chambers now, looking out the window feeling fidgety. You were late for your evening walk, like really late. Sure it happened before, but Aleksander had a weird gut feeling that something happened. Maybe the King found out? or maybe you finally realized the magnitude of the situation and came to your senses?

He knew if the King whiffed out a sliver of what was going on with his wife and Aleksander, he would rain hellfire. He was a powerful man, the most powerful man in all of Ravka and there was nothing more dangerous than an embarrassed man's actions.

His thoughts were interrupted by a loud noise he hadn't heard in a very long time, followed by the very loud thuds of falling books. The tunnel?

'ALEKSANDER?' your panicked voice reached him and triggered something primal in him. fight or flight. He and his shadows shot up and ran to you but stopped dead in his tracks, the black matter disappearing in on itself. You stood at the entrance to the tunnel, visibly shaking with anger, but that's wasn't the cause of his shock.

'Saints Y/N' He whispered, realization flooding over him like a nasty wave of ice-cold water. Your once ivory white nightgown was drenched in crimson but you were uninjured, it wasn't yours. The huge green Lanstov emerald sitting atop your left hand was smeared in red too, giving it a brown tinge.

'I need to get out of here right now.' You sounded solid and stern, the panic was long gone. The scrappy fighter was back.

Aleksander had always known what to say. But now, he didn't have a single word come to his mind and his body refused to move, he was rendered speechless and useless. This is a nightmare, surely, he prayed.

'Y/N I-I, What happ-'

'Aleksander, unless you want to see my head on a pike by dawn, I suggest you help me' You said as you moved across the room, after closing the tunnel door firmly shut. How does she even know about these tunnels?

'I once heard a drunkard speak of tunnels beneath the palaces, I tried my luck' You said answering his question without even being asked,

Your hands moved quick, shedding yourself of the nightgown and holding it in your hands as you moved to grab his black robe off a chair. Aleksander still stood there, his head whirling with so many thoughts, it debilitated him. He needed her to say it.

'Y/N did you do what I think you did'

'You know I did'

At that moment the doors burst open to reveal Ivan with an alarmed look on his face and his hands raised, ready to jump into action, most likely alerted by the falling books. But he faltered when he saw you, The Queen, covered in blood and holding a bloody nightgown in the most secure room of the Little Palace.

'Great another witness' You huffed and dumped the gown into the fireplace.

'Moi soverenyi, what is the meaning of this?'

'Ivan I wish I could tell you.'

'I killed the King. I have approximately 3 hours before somebody notices him laying in his own blood with his neck slit open' You sighed and sat down, head in your hands. This was the first moment you'd had to process it all, and it was overwhelming, to say the least.

A silence enveloped the room as the fire roared back to life, already having burnt the evidence to a crisp. Aleksander finally came to his senses, moved and grabbed a bowl of water and a cloth.

'Did anybody see you leave?' He asked as he handed you the items to wash your hands of the sticky blood.

'No. I made sure of it. I traveled through the tunnels.'

'And the King? There is no weapon near him?' Ivan interrupted.

Slowly you bent down and pulled a small dagger out of your shoe. Small but sharp.

'Give that to me' Aleksander took it out of your hands and walked out of the room while you continued to scrub the crimson off your hands.

You momentarily looked at Ivan, he didn't look mad or upset. He looked like a soldier.

'Are you not mad your King is dead?' You mused.

'He was not my King'

'That makes two of us' You were done cleaning your hands and moved to clean the ring. Should I burn this too?

'Leave it on. If things go sideways, you can buy your freedom' Aleksander returned. 'Ivan go get 2 horses and pack essentials. Get Genya too. I trust you to keep quiet.'

'Yes Moi soverenyi, Moya tsaritsa' He bowed his head quickly and waltzed out the room.

'Aleksander I'm scared now.....what have I done' You whispered. He took hold of your hand and pulled you into him. He held you tight, not wanting to let go.

'It's going to be ok. I promise. There's a small cottage down south I want you to go to. Ivan will take you. You will be safe. I will right this. I will protect you as I should've done earlier.' He kissed you deeply, letting all of the emotions flow through without the need for words.

'And what then?' You whispered against his lips.

'You be you. Perhaps go to Ketterdam. I feel you belong there... or come back to me when the time is right' He kissed you again, it was sweet and sad. A goodbye kiss. 'I love you, and even though you don't like it, you are my Queen. Forever'

'I love you too' Your hands fisted at his beautiful black kefta as tears dripped off your face.

****

That night you fled, your hair and appearance completely changed. The peasant clothes you felt comfortable in were on your back while the heartrenderer galloped beside you. Os Alta was still asleep as you sped down south, praying to the Saints that leaving Aleksander to deal with your mess was the right decision. That he would be ok too.

Ravka was shaken by the news of their dead King and the missing Queen. Some say she was dead, kidnapped by Fjerdans, and slaughtered mercilessly, others said Kerch merchants had her thrown in the Fold as she refused to give up information.

Either way, Aleksander had made sure you weren't regarded as a murderer and kept his promise to give you a chance to return to the Little Palace, to him.

Also if u can see this fic plz interact with it!! Idk if my tumblr is fixed yet and I need to make sure!!! If u were tagged and it didn’t notify you like last time, plz tell me!!!! 💓💓

Taglist (tell me if u want to be added)

@theonelittleone @searching-for-gallifrey @lostysworld @0-artemis @exo-1204 @staradorned @bookfrog242 @simp-for-ben-barners @keepdaydreamingbb @acciorudolphx

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discotechque · 3 years

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till my hand shook with the way I fear

pairing: abed nadir/nby! reader word count: 1.6k rating: T

me and abed have neurodivergent solidarity and for that, we would be besties. also the mc in this is specifically non-binary so whatever.

There's clear haze that settles over the bar, that's the first thing Abed realizes once he settles into the space. It's dim, like most bars are and he assumes that's the charm of places like these. Jeff and Britta are adults ( he is too but he's overlooked and therefore his opinion is mute ) so he follows their guidance. Watching from afar, observing their inebriated choices while downing another shot.

He doesn’t get the point of alcohol, much less bars, and it seems the whole point is to get pleasure after an initial sting. A sharp weight that lays in the back of one's throat before elation rips through you. Bourbon burns through him with too much consequence, gin coats his mouth with a bitter tang, and wine falls flat on his tongue.

Maybe it's his upbringing, he's never witnessed his father take a sip to this day, or the pressure that rushes to his frame when he's offered a drink. Abed understands the appeal of bars, it does not mean he shares the same sentiments to them. They're noisy little backend places where melancholic characters come to waste away their sorrows, typically finding pathetic people who drool over glass rims.

However, he is not pathetic ( even if his oldest friend is rounding his seventies and community college all seemed like a folly ) and he had never been overtly dripping with melancholy. So he stood by the small arcade game in the corner, unbothered and safe, until someone offered kindness.

And he takes miles of that even if all they've given was an inch because even if he isn't pathetic or melancholic, he is greedy. He likes eyes being on him because he has so many thought he wants to share with one mouth that can only do so much. Abed is not dumb, he knows what the man wants and how his friendly touches are slowly rising above his knee.

He knows what the man wants and isn't surprise at his outburst once learning that the feelings isn't reciprocated. There's streams of Mint Julep dripping from his jaw and lashes, softly mumbling about his love for Farscape before having it degraded. Abed knows he deserves it and was warned by Annie that people are sensitive ( but he is not held by the bounds of common decency or empathy no matter how hard he tries to keep his mouth shut. )

Then, he remembers the man's proposition ( the only reason someone would be interested in him ). He isn't familiar with being viewed as a sexual object and men weren't unwelcome in his eyes. Gay? Is he gay? Maybe something that exists within the unorthodox box that is sexual realization? The questions sound so foreign even within the echo chamber of his mind.

He's in a dingy bar celebrating his best friend's birthday, this is not a time for the sexual exploration of his subconscious ( although he saves the thought because he considers if not now then when ). The drink is seeping within his clothes, it's going to stick if he doesn't move. He needs to fucking move.

And he does, swiftly pulling himself away from the chair and heading towards the bathroom. Wherever that is, Shirley said it was in the far back and Annie said fair left. Yet, she meticulous as ever so what if she always assume her left is everyone's true left and Shirley is vague with her directions but it doesn't even seem to be enjoying her time here at all.

He's not enjoying it either if he's honest. His loose shit now sticks to his chest and he knows it would make sopping sounds if the man's glass was any larger. Jeff brought them here to celebrate because they're all adults and Troy deserves to have a birthday party in style but if all Jeff and Britta do it bicker, doesn't that make them children themselves? And if he shares his companionship with them, does that make him and all the others children by association?

He's going nowhere with this train of though, this he knows but it can't ever seem to stop. His brain becomes a leaky faucet that can never be screwed back just right so it drips and drips just like the alcohol does along his jaw and lashes. Abed wants to go home but he's with his friends and it's his best friend's party and it'd be so rude of him to leave so soon. At least, that's what Annie tells him.

( Parties were far and few between when he was younger and even then, he cannot replace family functions for beings that truly care for him. )

But then he remembers you, nursing an iced tea in the corner because you are not interested in bestowing wisdom onto Troy that you do not have or participating in anybody's shenanigans. Bars are where people come to hook up or fuck up, you proclaimed on the car ride here, there's no in between.

Then he hears it, bursting against his ears as a smile splits across your face, a discotheque pop song that might be pleasant if it wasn't so overwhelming. His hand involuntarily taps against his thigh in tune with the rhythm. It helps sort out the sensations, the noise is different than the bland flavoring of water, and he knows what's what but it all feels the same in his mind.

Abed's eyelids shut, another involuntary tick he can never seem to shake, and his hand has created it's own beat. Rapid and rushed with no real rhyme or reason except for the fact that it's something that will tug his mind away from everything. ( It's the same thing he does when he's at the edge of a rollercoaster, it makes him safe. ) If everyone else can sway to a rhythm, why can't he?

"Hey," an unexpected voice softly call out to him ( tenderness within this group almost borders on unnatural ). Abed slowly opens his eyes to see you, you call out to him. He feels his hands move away from his pants, tangled within your fingers instead as you gaze at him with earnest. "five things you can see?"

Your hands feel polished, no—plush. He's afraid that if his thumbs press too hard, he'll begin to meld into your being. That's a great idea for a movie, he thinks and he knows you've been his muse from time to time. Maybe it means something, he's not willing to deep any deeper.

His eyes scan the room for a brief second before he rattles off, "The wooden floors, the bartender, the door, the chair behind you, and Annie still trying to be a Texan."

Her accent still lingers within her mind, poor acting for someone so involved a role they've assigned for themselves. The though nearly amuses him but he's getting off track, he needs to focus on you. On the way your hands gently rub over his knuckles and needs to ignore this growing pit within his stomach on whatever that insinuates.

"Four things you can feel?"

"My feet against my shoes, my jeans against my legs, how hot my ears are, your hands."

You don't let go even after he's mentioned it, instead he receives a squeeze that sounds throughout his body. A continuous cycle the runs on until you ask him for something he can taste, he doesn't know what lingers within the crevices of his mouth. ( He'd want it to be you and licks his lips without a second thought. ) Yet, settles on the answer Mint Julep.

Something about thinking this way must be wrong, he shouldn't want to keep holding your fingers or gaze into your fervent irises. He shouldn't be attracted to someone like you and shouldn't be searching for so many reason on why he has to tear himself away from your presence. Still, shouldn't doesn't stop him from doing so.

Maybe his hands have melted into yours, it'd be a good excuse on why he can't bring himself to let go. The song changes again, how long has he been in this small little world with you?

"Hey, it's Mazzy Star, this fucks so hard." he's heard of this before, maybe you've shared it with him. It's less grating on his ears, smooth melodies being shifted on strings, and he watches you sway from the corner of his eye.

( He likes to be watched but something about you commands all his attention. )

Still shifting from foot to foot, you turn to him with a far more lax expression. Both shifting into familiarity as you ask, "You wanna sit down?"

"Not really," he shoots back suddenly but you're not perturbed at his fast response reflex. However, his heart sinks as the next words tumble from his lips. "but we can stand here and sway?"

You don't pull your hand away from his, instead, pressing into his fingers as you ponder a reply. Perhaps you think this isn't real as much as he presumes you'll humiliate him for even asking. But you don't and another smile splits down your features, large than the last one he saw from across the room.

"Of course, Abed Nadir has a genius idea. Let's do it."

You don't move him from this space you've cultivated with him. Instead, wrapping arms around his neck as he places them on your waist ( he never went to prom but this is better than any teenage fantasy ). Moving side to side, never shifting around in a circle but rather awkwardly figuring out a steady pace while his stares becoming fonder while the night grows.

Abed still doesn't get the point of bars but he can figure it out the next time he's here with you.

#abed can be a little bisexual ... as a treat #anyways in this episode abed never says he straight so i am legally allowed for him to have a crisis after a drink is thrown on him #yes i picked the episode where pierce is just stuck at the door and no one gives a fuck about him #i know in 2010 nonbinary probably wasnt a popular term but im using it here bc i dont care #i don't know how much i liked this but i think it was kinda cute #julianscribbles #ch: abed nadir #abed nadir #abed nadir x reader #community x reader #abed nadir imagine #community imagine #abed nadir imagines #community imagines #nonbinary #nonbinary reader #tv: community

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solinarimoon · 3 years

Text

Fields of Wildflowers chapter 9

Fields of Wildflowers

Chapter 9

A Sihtric x OC story

AN: This is my first attempt at writing smut! Please let me know how you like it! If you want to read the previous chapters for this story, you can find them here. Or you can read my other works here.

Warnings: This chapter contains sexual content and is not for individuals under 18 years old.

Word Count: 3895ish

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

“May I join you, Finan?”

Cwen paused to see the Irishman's reaction. He sat, elbows on knees and face in hands along a bench outside the new Queen of Mercia’s chambers.

Startled at her words, he sat up abruptly.

“Cwen, of course.”

Seeing who it was interrupting his thoughts, Finan resumed his slumped and dejected posture.

Cwen’s feet made soft echoes as she padded across the floor to take a seat next to him.

The hallway was thick with heat from the summer air. Dust moats swirled in the sun’s rays that filtered in from the adjacent window.

Cwen leaned back against the wall and took in the sight of her companion.

“Something weighs on your mind?”

Finan ran his hands over his face and sat up to match Cwen’s posture.

“Other than the current illegal occupation of the city by a jilted rival king?”

“Yes, other than that.”

“Well, you might say something weighs on my mind, yes.”

Taking a breath and staring down at his hands, Finan spun one of his rings. Cwen waited several minutes for him to continue.

“I thought this would be a chance for Uhtred to find another path. Another destiny for him to fall behind,” Finan leaned forward once more to rest his elbows on his knees.

“When we failed to win Bebbanburg, when we lost Beocca, it broke him. And we lost everything. Starting over here, in Mercia would have been a fresh beginning for him. For all of us. A place to finally find some peace.”

“Are you so sure that is out of reach now?” Cwen had not had time to process the turn of events with Uhtred abdicating the throne to Aethelflaed. Not as Finan had it would seem. What would this mean for any future with Sihtric.

To have only begun to explore the depths of their feelings then possibly have that torn away from her had not crossed Cwen’s mind until that instant. Suddenly, she felt as if a snake had coiled itself inside her ribs, slowly constricting her heart.

“Are you thinking about Sihtric now?”

“Yes.”

Finan did not pry her to speak further of her relationship with his brother in arms. Instead he returned his attention to twisting his rings and ruminating on his own concerns.

Cwen’s mind raced as she thought about losing Sihtric and the comfort and companionship she had found in him. Without ever even realizing it, she had begun to place him into her future. Seeing herself years down the road, it was Sihtric she saw at her side. But now those images seemed hazy. As if they had lost their focus with this new information. If Sihtric were to leave Mercia with Uhtred, where would that leave room for her in his life.

Finan shifted his posture on the bench. It brought Cwen out of her own thoughts to glance at her friend. Cwen pushed the distressing images to the back of her mind and focused her attention on Finan. The man looked miserable.

“Have you talked with her?”

Finan’s hand stilled but his eyes remained downcast.

“To Eadith?” She pushed.

Cwen watched as Finan raised his head to gaze out the window and take a breath. It was small but his head gently swept from side to side.

“I know that there is so much yet for Sihtric and myself to understand and discuss with one another. But I can say for my part, I do not regret allowing him to know my heart. We have not discussed it but I plan to now. Knowing that our futures are uncertain I must speak with him. But I am sure he does know I care for him.”

“You both would need to be blind to not see it.”

“Well I could say the same to you and Eadith both.”

Finan turned his head to meet Cwen’s face still remaining hunched over upon himself.

“There is mutual affection between you both. And I do not know her plans for the future but I do feel you should speak with her. But who am I to give you advice?” Cwen finished crossing her arms over herself and turning her eyes to meet the window once more.

“I would say you are a friend, Cwen. And one who we have all come to value a great deal.”

Cwen shot her eyes towards the Irishman and quirked a skeptical smile.

“Do you not believe me?” Finan said with a light chuckle.

“No, I do. It is just hard to accept when I have guarded myself for so long. Even before Eardwulf, I did not easily allow people into my life. Ever since losing my mother as a young girl. Even with Aethelflaed, I’ve kept her at an arm's distance you could say. She is a few years older than I am and I love and respect her. And I have no doubt she cares about my friendship as well. But I could never bring myself to confide in her about Eardwulf. About what he would do to me. I told Sihtric I did not want to speak it aloud and make it true. But I also did not want to allow myself to let someone else in so close. It may sound strange,”

“It does not sound strange to me. We all deal with our grief and our turmoil differently. I doubt I would ever have formed such a bond with Uhtred or the others if Uhtred had not endured slavery alongside me. So I understand guarding yourself.”

The pair sat in companionable silence for several moments more. The sound of rustling coming from the door to Aethelflaed’s room caused Finan to stand. When the door did not open, he sat back down and leaned against the wall with his legs outstretched.

“In case you’re afraid of speaking about your feelings with Sihtric, can I offer some advice since you’ve given me yours?”

“Even though it was unasked for?” Cwen replied with a wry smile.

“Aye, even though it was.”

“Please continue, Finan?”

Cwen met Finan’s eyes as he turned to face her.

“Trust him, Cwen. He will not hurt you. I have never, in all my years knowing the man, never seen him as I see him with you.”

Pausing to process Finan’s words, Cwen spoke softly, “what do you mean Finan?”

“I mean the man can not keep his eyes from you. It started at Saltwic. At least that’s when I noticed it. But he could not help himself for staring at you. I don’t think you noticed,”

“I did,” Cwen replied meekly.

“Well whatever is between the two of ya, he is fiercely devoted to you and your protection. He is a loyal man and a strong warrior. But I suspect you could bring him to his knees if you wanted to. He isn’t a man of many words like myself.”

“Oh, you cheeky Irishman,” Cwen interrupted while lightly smacking his arm.

Chucking, Finan continued, “But I know him well. And I know he would do anything to protect you, lady. To keep ya happy. To see you are never hurt again.”

“I trust him, Finan. Like I have never trusted anyone before. And we’ve barely even spoken of our feelings with one another. I want to say that this is just silly girlish fancy. To think so much of a thing without time spent exploring it more. But time has not allowed us that luxury. And even without that luxury, I know it in my heart. I can trust Sihtric to be gentle with my love.”

“Your love, Cwen? Is it love for you both then?”

“I have not spoken the words. But in my heart I know, for myself it is.”

“Aye. I have seen love before. So I can say by comparison, it is love.”

“Thank you, Finan. I did not come here to speak of these things but I am happy we have.”

“Me too.”

After a moment's pause, Cwen chuckled.

“I expect you to let me know once you’ve spoken with Eadith.”

“Och, you won’t let this go will you?”

At that moment, Stiorra rounded the corner and stopped to stare at them.

“What is it?”

“Get the Lady Aethelflaed. You all must see what is happening.”

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

Cwen stood atop the ramparts next to Aethelflaed and Finan.

Uhtred and Osferth were approaching the gates from the main road followed closely by Sihtric bringing up the rear on a secondary path. They all had scores of men following in their midst.

They had raised the Mercian fyrd to bring support to the new Queen of Mercia.

“Lady Aethelflaed, your fyrd is here to support you,” called Uhtred.

While the lady spoke to her countrymen, Cwen’s eyes found Sihtric’s.

Her lips parted into a bright smile which Sihtric returned.

Leaning in to whisper in her ear, Finan said, “I told you I saw it. And you’ve proved me right.”

Cwen gave no response. She was too preoccupied watching Sihtric as he and the others made their way back inside the burg’s walls. Aethelflaed had been able to appeal to King Edward’s rational mind and prove they could and should be allies once more.

Quickly, Cwen made her way down the stairs and across the yard to the stables.

After her words with Finan, Cwen knew she must make time to speak with Sihtric alone. There was so much to discuss and so much that should not be left unsaid.

As she rounded the corner, her breath caught in her throat as her eyes found him.

He had not dismounted his horse, but instead appeared to be coaxing the grey mare and running his hand down her neck. He had not noticed Cwen’s presence yet. She took a moment to just watch him. The line of his jaw and the strength of his arms. His strong gentle hands stroked the animal, speaking quiet words to still it’s hoofs. Cwen imagined those hands on her own body, stroking, caressing.

The heat in her body ignited once more. She felt a swelling between her thighs and a pull low in her core.

Sihtric brought his eyes up from his horse and found hers. Slowly, he brought the animal to her side and his eyes bore down on her. Neither of them were smiling now. Their faces both instead betrayed a deeper desire. Sihtric licked his lips which caused Cwen’s own to part as she released a sigh.

“Come with me,” Sihtric commanded as he guided the horse over to a hay bale.

Cwen stepped onto the bale and immediately felt his strong arm wrap around her waist to bring her onto his saddle.

She rode in front of him, feeling the strength of his grip as he kept his hand securely on her waist. Her waist twisted to place her back against him with both legs still placed to one side. She could feel the heat from his breath on her neck and it sent rivers of pleasure down her spine.

Struggling to find her voice, Cwen managed to ask, “Where are we going?”

“Away from the world for a while.”

Cwen brought her finger to interlace with those gripping her hip. Slowly, as they rode through the gates and past the camps set up outside the walls, Cwen moved his hand to settle on her torso. She felt his fingers grip and squeeze her and she desperately wanted to shift his hand lower on her body. To feel his touch caressing her sex.

Instead she arched her back against him and felt his lips ghost along the curve of her neck.

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

They did not make it far. Distantly, Cwen could still hear the sounds from the camp. But they were far enough to evade prying eyes.

Sihtric brought his horse into a copse of trees. The ground was softly covered with moss and a warm breeze drifted through the branches.

As smooth as a cat, Sihtric dismounted from the horse, somehow never breaking his hold on her.

When he moved to ease Cwen from the saddle, he kept his body close. Cwen slid along him as he controlled her down off the mare.

Keeping his arms wrapped around her, Sihtric slowly lowered her until her lips met his as he guided her down until her feet met solid ground.

Cwen’s hands gripped his shoulders tight and she fisted her fingers into his shirt.

She felt his hands hungrily move to wrap her waist and take grip of her neck.

Their mouths opened, tongues daring to explore.

Cwen could feel Sihtric’s excitement against her stomach. Thinking of his arousal brought forth even more desire in Cwen and she released a mewling sigh against his lips.

Hearing her sound, Sihtric released her mouth and brought his lips to nip and suck along her collarbone causing Cwen to release even more quavering breaths of pleasure.

“Sihtric,” she breathed, speaking his name like a prayer. The swelling between her legs was leaving her throbbing. She felt her body writhing under his touch and was shocked to know how much she wanted more of him.

“Sihtric, please.”

Sihtric moved to pull back, “I am sorry Cwen. I know I told you I would move slowly,” but Cwen cut him off by capturing his lips once more with hers.

This time it was slow. Full of meaning.

When she broke the kiss, he rested his forehead against hers.

“I know what I said. But I also know things have changed. Before it seemed we would have time and now,” Cwen paused, bringing her hands to rest behind his neck. “Will Uhtred stay here now? Will you stay, Sihtric?”

Sihtric brought his head back to better meet Cwen’s eyes.

“I can not say, Cwen. But as much as it pains me, it is likely we will leave and return to Coccham or venture somewhere else.”

Cwen broke his stare to rest her head against his chest. Her hands moved to grip his waist and pull him close.

“I will return to you whenever I am able. We don’t know what our future will be but I know I want you in it. However I can have you, Cwen. If you will wait for me.”

Sihtric’s hands drew long slow lines along her spine.

Cwen took a moment to breathe in his scent and calm her beating heart. He smelled of open fields and horses and damp woods. Natural and soothing. Steeling herself, she tilted her head back to stare up at him.

“I do not want to wait to be with you, Sihtric. I want you for my future as well,” her eyes shone as she saw the desire mirrored in his face.

“But take me now, Sihtric. Here and now while I know you are mine.”

She barely had time to finish her words before she felt the heat of his lips crash into hers once more. His body flush against hers and their hands grasped at one another as if scared they would disappear. With chests heaving, Cwen broke apart and turned her back to him.

Sihtric’s hands never left her body and his lips left bruising marks running along her neck.

Slowly, Cwen stepped away from him and brought her hands up to undo the laces of her dress.

She felt him reach out to help her lift it over her head leaving her clad only in her thin, cream colored shift. Cwen’s breath stuttered as she slowly lowered the sleeves from her shoulders, feeling gooseflesh appear on her skin despite the steamy summer night air. The sun had almost completely set, leaving gentle streaks filtering in through the trees.

Free from her arms, she allowed the shift to slide down her hips to pool at her feet.

She heard Sihtric take a sharp inhale of breath then felt as his feet moved towards her and his hands grasped onto her bare hips. Slowly, Cwen turned her body to meet him.

His eyes hungrily took in her nakedness and Cwen watched as he licked his lips.

Cwen shivered as his hands left her to remove his jerkin and leather. Once unencumbered, he wrapped her in his arms once more and took her mouth with his.

Cwen had never been naked in front of a man before and found the thrill of it and of Sihtric’s hands on her bare flesh made her nipples harden and her core become slick with desire.

“Touch me, Sihtric,” she whispered against his lips.

Sihtric took his mouth from her and locked his eyes on to her own.

Cwen left out a small gasp of pleasure as she felt his rough fingers slowly slip between her folds and find the wetness of her desire.

At feeling her excitement, Sihtric could not contain the hungry growl that escaped his lips and he felt his member twitch.

Slowly he began to work his fingers across her, massaging and exploring.

When he finally slipped a finger inside of her, Cwen’s legs quivered and she felt herself lean into his hand so he could more fully cup her sex.

Another moan of pleasure escaped her lips as he entered a second finger and rocked his hand back and forth across her bundle.

“Lie down, Cwen.” Sihtric spoke low and commanding.

Gently, Cwen lowered herself to the ground while SIhtric's fingers continued their exploration, half holding her from falling and half teasing her with pleasure. His free hand supported her lower back.

Once she lay beneath him, breathing husky and low, he removed himself and stood.

Cwen’s eyes watched him as he lifted his own shirt over his head, tossing it to lay with her own forgotten garments.

Next, he undid the laces of his breaches and slid them off himself, releasing his erection.

He stood, his nakedness matching hers and stared down at her.

Cwen swallowed the saliva poling in her throat as she took in the sight of him. Lean muscles from years of training and fighting, littered with scars from battles and survival. She watched as he stroked himself before kneeling down to settle between her legs. He leaned his hard body to support himself on his elbows above her, meeting her eye.

“You must tell me, Cwen. I would do nothing that you feel unready for.”

Cwen could feel her body begging to feel him, begging for release. Her next words shocked her, having never wanted or spoken of something so lurid.

“Take me Sihtric. I want you inside of me. Teach me what being with a man is supposed to be like.”

Sihtric brought one hand up to stroke her face and she leaned into his touch. His member was hot and swollen against her thigh.

“You will never need to know that pain again, lady.”

And he kissed her. He kissed her with a tenderness and an honesty that brought tears welling into Cwen’s eyes.

She felt him reach down to guide himself to her entrance and he met her eyes questioning once more. In answer, Cwen raised her hips to meet him and he pushed himself between her lips and into her core.

Cwen’s back arched and Sihtric watched her body react to him as he brought himself fully inside her. Slowly, he began a rhythm of thrusts, shallow at first, allowing her body to adjust to him, then deeper and deeper.

Cwen felt her walls quaking as he stretched her. As she allowed herself to relax and enjoy the fullness of him, she brought her knees up to wrap around the tight muscles of his ass.

Feeling her move in time with him, Sihtric gripped her hip, leveraging more pressure on her bundle of nerves between them.

Cwen felt his lips along her neck once more and the sensation was nearly enough to push her over the edge.

Sensing her nearing her release, Sihtric pulled his chest up so he could watch the stunning woman beneath him.

“Look at me,” Sihtric commanded, gentle but firm.

She met his eyes, their bodys still pulsating together to an ancient, primal rhythm. Her mouth was agape, cheeks flushed, and hair sticking to her forehead from a fine sheen of sweat.

“Come for me, Cwen.”

And she did. Her release rippled through her as Sihtric continued to hold her gaze. His thrusts meeting her body and sending waves of ecstasy to every fiber of her being. Cwen gripped onto the sculpted sinnews of his lower back as she arched and pulled him even deeper inside of her.

Watching her come undone beneath him was the single most eroitc and beautiful thing Sihtric had ever seen.

When he could tell she had reached the end of her high, he slipped his arm beneath her and shifted his knees to bring her up and on top of his lap.

Sitting face to face, she kissed him deep and slow. Regaining her senses, she began riding him, feeling his own climax building as he watched her.

He brought his hand up to stroke her chest as she arched her neck back to allow him full access.

Cwen continued to ride his length, his thrusts to meet her becoming more frantic and frenzied.

When he reached his peak, Sihtric wrapped his strong arms around her waist and held onto her as her fingers pulled at his hair bringing his mouth to meet hers.

When he was finished he fell back onto the mossy earth, bringing Cwen with him to lay nestled underneath the crook of his arm. Both of them breathing heavily and chests heaving.

“You are the most breathtaking creature I’ve ever seen, lady.”

Cwen raised her eyes to meet his gaze.

“I want you to know I did not plan to bring you out here with this in mind. I only wanted time alone spent with you, but when I saw the look on your face in the stables,” he paused to tilt her chin up so he could capture her mouth once more. Murmuring against it he continued, “I could not help myself. I am drawn to you like a moth is to a flame.”

“I know what you mean, Sihtric. And you do not need to explain yourself. I wanted this and you did everything to make sure I was alright with it. No one has ever looked at me, made me feel the way I do when I am with you. I have never let a man know me so intimately. And I am glad to share that with you.”

“You are my future, Cwen. No matter where I travel, my road will lead me to you. I can not lose you now.”

“You have me, Sihtric. All of me now and all of my future,” she mused while cupping his cheek and placing a gentle kiss along his mouth.

They lay entwined together until the sun had set and the wind began to blow cooler through the branches.

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

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Tagging: @maggiescarborough @pokeasleepingsmaug @nxrdist @mystic-shadows42 @emilyhufflepufftlk @lauwrite1225 @morosemagick @magravenwrites @thebohemianpenguin @mrsalwayswrite @notyourwildestdream @obipoelover @ecarroll1978 @93xdiagonxalley @nobodys-business-world

#the last kingdom #sihtric #fanfiction #sihtric x oc #fields of wildflowers #finan

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likeiwishiknew · 3 years

Text

Azriel x Gwyn - The Jump

https://archiveofourown.org/works/29716227/chapters/73319802

He was not a fan of birthdays.

He certainly never celebrated his own.

But the Night Court, his family, enjoyed them plenty. Though, admittedly, they enjoyed any occasion where they could all gather together for good fun and good wine.

Tonight was Nesta’s birthday, and Cassian had gone all out on decorating the House of Wind. Rhys had gifted the place to Cassian and Nesta in honor of their mating, but Azriel still kept rooms here. The pair had insisted upon it, saying that it was much his home as it was theirs.

Azriel wasn’t so sure about that. Home...he didn’t quite know what that was supposed to feel like.

He stood off to the side as he always did, watching the revelry.

Mor was speaking to Emerie. There was an ease between them that he was quite certain he’d never before seen from the female who’d once consumed his thoughts.

It was no question that Mor was beautiful. He would always acknowledge that, would always care for her, but after centuries of pining after her, he found, in recent years, she no longer affected him the way she used to. And in truth, he was grateful for it.

Over the centuries he’d tried to convince himself to be content with what they had. That her companionship, her friendship was enough. But that was the thing about one-sided love. No matter how hard you might feign contentment at being able to remain by their side, a part of you would always hope for more. And a heart that yearned for someone who showed no reciprocation was bound to become bitter.

He was no exception.

One would think it would’ve made him wise enough not to ensure he never fell into the same pattern again. But he damn near had.

Elain Archeron was lovely, gentle, and seemed to have shared his attraction.

She was also another’s mate.

He and Rhys had almost come to blows over Azriel attraction to the middle Archeron sister. His brother had gone as far as ordering him to stay away. An order that had irked him and had the dominant side of him almost determined to go against his High Lord’s order, if for no other reason than to prove his will was no one’s to command. However, time and some distance had given him perspective. He’d come to realize that perhaps it wasn’t so much Elain that he wanted but the idea of her. The idea of belonging with someone so beautiful and soft. The idea of being made whole, the way his brothers had when they’d found their mates.

That was what he wanted, to feel whole. To be unbroken.

His quiet introspection was interrupted by a burst of laughter. His eyes darted across the room at the almost musical sound. He caught sight of Gwyn speaking to Nesta and Cassian. Her face alight with happiness.

He hadn’t seen her since their uncomfortable encounter at the shop.

The sight of her put him in good spirits. Until he noticed the excessive rosy tint to her complexion. It took him a second to realize the issue.

She was drunk, or at least well on her way to it.

What the hell?

He headed to where she was, eating up the distance in a few long strides.

Cassian was the first to notice his approach. His brother gave him an interested look. Perhaps, surprised to see him headed toward people rather than away from them.

He came up beside Gwyn, something she would normally detect immediately. But with her dulled senses she took far too long to notice.

When she finally did she only looked up at him in confusion, like she did not know who he was.

“Are you drunk?” he asked concerned.

A mischievous smile crossed her face, recognition in her eyes at the sound of his voice.

“Maybe just a tiny bit,” she admitted, raising her fingers to emphasize how tiny.

Nesta spoke up, “It hadn’t occurred to me how low her alcohol tolerance would be. Though, in retrospect, it should’ve. I doubt she grew up drinking much at the temple.”

“I feel great though,” Gwyn interjected.

Cassian gave her an affectionate smile. His friend looked as though he found this amusing. Azriel did not. He wanted to insist she go rest and sober up, but he knew in his gut she would not appreciate being ordered about.

“Perhaps, you should like to get some air,” he offered instead.

Her smile grew wider and she nodded, “That is a most excellent idea.”

She turned to Nesta and Cassian, “Would you the two of you like to join?”

Nesta smiled at her friend.

“I think we’ll stay inside, mingle with the others. But you’ll be safe with Azriel,” his brother’s mate started saying, only to meet his eyes, “Right, Az?”

He returned her stare, “Of course.”

Nesta gave an approving nod and took Cassian by the hand, leading him away.

Azriel offered Gwyn his arm, uncertain she’d be able to make her way to the balcony without some assistance. He waited for her to scoff, offended, but she took it with no protest.

He led her over to the double doors leading to the balcony and pushed them open.

Releasing his arm, she rushed to the edge. Her face was awash with wonder as she took in the light of the stars, almost as if seeing them for the very first time.

He quietly observed as she took a deep breath, taking in the cool night air.

“You know I never knew how much I missed the sky until I saw it for the first time again after spending nearly two years locked away in the dark,” she confessed, a smile on her face, “I thank the stars, that I found the courage to meet Nesta and Cassian up here that first day.”

He did too.

In moments like this, he was in awe of her. This young woman, whose soul remained bright, whose heart still managed to be grateful, even after all she’d endured.

Gwyn spun back around to him, “Shall we play a game?” she teased.

He smirked at her, “What sort of game?”

“A trust game,” she hopped up onto the ledge, sending his heart damn near leaping out of his chest.

“What are you doing?”

She stood facing him and shot him a playful smile.

“Game starts...now!” she called out, letting herself fall backward off the ledge.

Fuck. He cursed.

He spread his wings and jumped after her.

She was falling fast, but he was faster. He swept her up into his arms and pulled her close. Moments later, he had them touching down gently on the ground below.

“What the hell was that!?” his voice near shouting.

Gwyn tapped her chin in thought, “I believe humans call it a trust fall.”

His brows furrowed in annoyance, “You could’ve been hurt.”

She stared at him, looking genuinely surprised at his frustration, “I only did it because I knew it was safe.”

“Jumping off a balcony when you cannot fly is hardly safe,” he admonished.

“It is when I know you’ll catch me,” she all but sang back, grinning up at him.

He fell silent at her admission. He wasn’t sure how to respond.

So, he shook his head and changed the subject.

“Let’s get you back into the house.”

As he readied to fly them back up, she spoke.

“About the necklace...” she started.

He winced that the mention, uncertain he wished to discuss it with her in her current state or any state.

But she was too drunk to pick up on his mood.

“I want you to know I was never angry I was...hurt some. But mostly I was...embarrassed...I think...I don’t...it doesn’t matter,” she trailed off, “I know you didn’t have ill intentions. I’m the one who made assumptions.”

He paused. About what?

“So it wasn’t you who hurt me. It was me. I - never mind, it is silly anyways.”

“No. It’s not. Tell me,” he insisted.

She hesitated, “I was silly for thinking someone like you would like someone like me.”

Her admission floored him. Why would she think that?

Any male would be so lucky to -

He stopped himself. He couldn’t have this conservation now. Not when she likely wouldn’t even remember any of this come morning.

Tucking her close to his chest, he went ahead and winnowed them back upstairs.

Gwyn glanced around, clearly not understanding how she’d gotten from one place to the next.

“I’m taking you back to your room,” he declared.

She shook her head, “You can’t enter the dorm area, priestess’ only.”

Damn, that was right. Funny how she happened to remember that little detail.

As though summoned by her sister’s presence, Nesta appeared.

“She’s a bit of mess so it probably would not be wise to bring her downstairs,” the female pointed out, “I’ll take her back to my old rooms, that way if she needs anything I’ll be close by.”

“It’s alright. I’ll bring her,” he insisted.

Nesta raised a single brow.

“I want to make sure she’s fine,” he defended, holding the female’s stare.

“And you don’t trust that I’d make sure of that?” Nesta returned, with the barest hint of offense.

“I - Nesta, please, let me do this," he requested.

She took him in with her all too seeing gaze.

They stayed like that. Assessing each other, until she realized he wouldn’t yield on this. At which point, she only nodded her assent. He gave a single nod, passing her to take the stairs up.

Reaching the room in little time at all, he opened the door - taking care not to jostle Gwyn in his arms.

With steady footsteps, he headed over to the large bed. Kneeling on the edge, he laid her down as gently as possible.

His shadows danced around her, kissing her skin as though wishing her good night.

She curled up with his arm. He tried to pull away but she held on tight.

“Gwyn, Gwyn,” he whispered, to no avail.

He brushed back a strand of hair that had fallen into her face, and she nuzzled his hand. Her hold on him loosening.

He was about to pull away again when she whispered his name, “Azriel.”

The sound was so faint he wondered if he’d imagined it. He stared down at her, trying to discern if she was awake. But she did not stir.

His name on her lips brought the tiniest smile to his face. Carefully, he extracted himself from her hold and reluctantly got off the bed. Something inside him calmed at the sight of her peacefully sleeping face. He stared down at the hand she’d held in hers.

“If there’s anyone who isn’t good enough, it’s me,” he whispered, eyes returning to her.

He stroked her cheek with his thumb, “Goodnight, Berbara.”

- - -

Her head was pounding.

She had a sour taste on her tongue, and she was unbelievably thirsty.

Turning over in bed, she opened her eyes. It took all of two seconds for her to realize this was not her room. She sat up and frantically looked around. Absolutely nothing looked familiar.

Staring toward the door Gwyn willed herself to remember how she’d gotten here.

She took a deep breath and counted down from twenty. By the time she reached ten, everything from the night before came flooding back. Her face heated from embarrassment.

God, she could not believe she’d done and said those things.

Glancing on the nightstand she realized someone had placed a jug of water there, along with a glass. She smiled at the thoughtfulness.

Filling it to the brim, she took a large sip. When she suddenly remembered she had morning plans.

With Azriel.

Oh, gods.

She was never drinking again.

For a brief instant, she considered not showing up. But that idea went as quickly as it had come.

She was a grown woman. She would not hide from her mistakes and avoid Azriel when he’d been nothing but good to her. Despite her ridiculous behavior. With that in mind, she jumped out of bed and quickly hurried back to her own room, to change out her clothes, before heading up to meet him.

Gwyn had just made it past the archway when Azriel turned. He looked almost surprised to see her. Which was strange because surely his shadows had warned him of her approach.

He watched with keen focus as she approached.

“I wasn’t sure you’d come,” he admitted.

She met his handsome gaze head-on, “I wouldn’t miss this. I know how busy you are, and I’m the one who asked you to teach me the technique I found in the old tome.”

For a moment, Azriel said nothing. She started to grow a bit anxious, but thankfully he put her out of her misery.

“Shall we get started then?” he asked.

She nodded, getting into a fighting stance.

And with that, they fell into familiar territory.

- - -

Any unease and tension between them had faded with each calculated movement.

He would have to leave soon. Spymaster business. Nesta mentioned it to her the other day in passing when she’d visited her in the library.

In one final attempt to take him down, she darted forward. But just before her hit landed, he stepped out of the way. Her momentum had her tumbling forward, but before she started to fall Azriel caught her by the arm and pulled her back.

Still off-balance, she didn’t catch herself in time and wound up crashing into his firm chest.

Palm pressed against him, she pulled back. Praying she managed to keep from blushing, she looked up into his warm hazel eyes.

“Thank you for catching me,” she voiced, and then, remembering events of the night before, she added, “Both times.”

A smile slowly curved his lips. He leaned in and whispered in her ear, “You’re welcome, on both counts.”

She knew she was doing a piss poor job of not blushing.

“Oh, also, I meant what I said by way. I know you giving me the necklace didn’t mean what I thought it did. So you don’t have to worry about me having any silly ideas.”

Gwyn felt him stiffen. Turning her head, she saw his expression had shuttered at her words. Which left her a bit confused.

Perhaps, her words hurt because they made him think of his own situation. How he pined after a female who already had a mate. It pained her to see him this way, but it wasn’t her place to address it. He wasn’t hers to worry over.

“Right...well I should go. I mean, I know you have somewhere else to be and so do I so...”

When he said nothing to stop her. She turned to leave.

His voice was so quiet, she almost didn’t hear him, “Gwyn...are we okay?” he asked hesitantly.

She looked over her shoulder at him. She was the one who’d made a fool of herself yet he seemed to be the one beating himself up over his own mistakes.

She smiled, meaning every word, “We’ll always be okay.”

~~~

Author notes: I thankfully have not been privy to much the fandom drama that apparently has been occurring as of late, and for that I am grateful. But knowing that it is happening somewhat inspired the ending for this chapter. The reminder that no matter the drama: We will be okay. I genuinely enjoy this series, and I obviously ship Gwynriel. But I know that at the end of the day, this is a work of fiction. We’re meant to get enjoyment out of it. Not start petty wars over it. Anyways, that’s all I have to say on the topic and I promise shall not bring it up again because I don’t like to invite negativity into my life. I hope you all enjoy the latest chapter, and if so do please like and comment =D

Bonus notes:

Me: You’ve determined a schedule Cindy. Do not post until Saturday.

Also me: The world needs more Gwynriel / Azriel x Gwyn content now!

Me:...

Me: Random whims you win again!

So yeah, let’s just say I’ll post once a week whenever I fancy the chapter complete 😆

~~~

@azrielsshadowsdanceforgwyn @bittermuire @ofstarsanddreams @corrdolium

@brucexselina @inejjg @rhysmoira @gwynnight @fairytamy @bluegold08 @amandapearls @highqueentaey @lioness-says @chosenfamily-valkyriequeens

@my-fan-side

#a court of thorns and roses #a court of silver flames #acotar #acosf #azriel x gwyn #azriel #gwynriel #gwyneth berdara #fanfiction #read on ao3

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spideymarvelws · 3 years

Text

Ready Or Not

Prince!Tom Holland x Fem!Reader

Main Masterlist / Add Yourself To My Taglists

A/n : I like royal aus leave me alone

Summary : With the plan in action to finally take down the king, you and Tom have a final talk before the battle for freedom, not before he has a vivid nightmare leaving him questioning if everything is really worth it to save his people.

Warnings : cursing, descriptions of blood, death (animals and people), violence, floof and angst

Word Count : 4.2k

...

“Again,”

“But father-”

“I said again.”

Tom took a deep breath, rolling his shoulder muscle before loading his bow with an arrow, raising it up and drawing it back. He didn't want to release it, he already killed so many harmless animals that his father just left to rot, not even taking it in to use as food for the kingdom.

Sure, the rest of the animals of the forest would have a field day with the meat, but what was the point when they had the power to do it themselves? Maybe it was just the sick smile on his father’s face when he walked up to the dead corpse, kicking its limp body in victory. He could still feel the bile in his stomach threatening to rise when every arrow hit, killing the helpless animals.

“Shoot it Thomas,” His father whispered faintly in his ears, a harsh hand falling on his shoulder, “Shoot it in the heart,”

Tom held his breath, aiming the arrow at the animal before finally releasing, flinching at the sound of arrowhead puncturing the flesh. He looked down at the ground in shame, not wanting to see the dead animal bleeding out on the floor.

“Good job,” his father said, patting his shoulder, “She’s going to enjoy the pain,”

Tom grew confused at his fathers words, usually he wouldn't question his outlandish comments but the exhaustion creeping up his back took away the filter keeping his thoughts to himself, “I don’t know about that father,” he scoffed, ready to move on the next victim if that meant getting back to the castle early.

“Shame really, she was a beautiful one,” he continued, ignoring his son’s words, “But that’s what you get when you come into the wrong territory,”

Tom rolled his eyes, “Pretty sure we’re the ones who invaded them,”

“Still, I'm still powerful enough to let you do the work for me,” he cackled, “Powerful enough to make you kill your own friend or was she more than that?” he said slowly, his voice becoming dangerously low,“Y/h/c hair, y/e/c eyes and a spirit that lead to her demise,” his voice started to echo, “By your own hand,”

Tom’s eyes shot open, he looked back at his father before looking at the clearing where he shot the deer. Instead of the bleeding out animal he expected, he saw you, on your knees with an arrow sticking straight out of your chest.

“No,” he uttered, dropping his weapon and running to you, sliding to his knees as your body fell, limp in his arms.

“No, no, no,” he repeated, holding you close to his chest. The arrow melted away, leaving a hole in the middle of your body.

“If only you didn’t bring her into this,” his fathers voice continued to boom in the back of his mind as he shakily put his hand on your cheek, drips of water falling from his eyes and on to your skin, “If only you were not foolish enough to defy me!”

Tom tried his best to block out his father's voice, which was much easier than he expected when he looked down at your face. Blood seeping out of your nose with your eyes wide and blown without movement and your skin becoming dull and cold to the touch. He didn't care that the red liquid stained his clothes or his father’s hurtful words, all he cared about in that moment was you.

He clenched his eyelids together, “This isn't real, this isn't real,” he said to himself, rocking your body back and forth in his arms as he held you impossibly closer, “This- this isn't real,”

“Is...it?” you croaked, coughing up a wad of blood from your mouth, “Is- Is this not reality?”

“It can’t be,” he cried softly, shakily wiping the blood dripping down from your nose, “I won’t allow it,”

“B-but you d-did,” you began coughing again, “I’m dead,” your voice trailed off, “I’m dead because of-” you paused, your lip quivering, “because of you,”

Your head drifted to the side, your eyes becoming empty with no movement. Tom couldn't breath, his mind too busy trying to process your still body in his arms, your skin blotched with blood and the words that just spilled from your mouth. He sat in silence, completely in shock as the warm touch from your skin was replaced with the coldness of the snow falling from the sky.

“Don’t worry Tommy,” his father sneered, a hand falling on his shoulder just like moments ago, “She won’t be going alone,”

Tom raised his head, suddenly he wasn't in a dense forest but a large plain, bodies splayed all along the dry grass. They continued on for as long as he could see, disappearing into the distance. The ones closest to him he recognized, close colleagues and friends part of the rebellion, the same people he convinced years ago to join his cause having the same fate as you. When he looked back at your face, it was replaced with a dirty skull, the rest of your body just a pile of bones.

He pushed away the skeleton, crawling backwards when his father began walking over the corpses, kicking them aside like pebbles on a sidewalk.

“I thought I taught you well, I thought you were ready to be the future king,” His father made large steps towards him, his stance looming over him, growing and growing with each one. His boots hitting the floor shook the ground beneath him, keeping him stuck to the floor and unable to stand.

Soon his back hit the trunk of a tree, stopping him in his tracks as his father came closer and closer.

“All these men, they could've been safe, alive with their families,” he chuckled, “But now there dead, dead because of you,”

Suddenly his father grew, his gold tunic stretching, tearing off his chest as his skin morphed into a black mush. His eyes turned sharp and red, glowing as the wind began to blow harshly, taking away some of the black liquid, only for it to grow back, patching the menacing monster his father turned into.

But before it could swallow him whole, he shot up in his bed drowning in sweat.

His hand slapped to his chest as he steadied his breathing, the other supporting himself on his makeshift mattress of leaves and scraps of cloth. He quickly took off his shirt, throwing it off to the side as he bursted out of the tent, stumbling to the ocean.

As he reached the sand, he fell to his knees, his hands reaching for the water and splashing it on his face in a desperate attempt to rid his eyes of what he just saw, what he just lived through. But washing his face alone wasn't enough, your blood didn't just hit his face but his body, his clothes. He stood up shakily, walking slowly into the cold water.

As cold as your skin when you died in his arms.

He shivered at the thought, continuing to submerge himself in the ocean, feeling more and more at peace with each step. He walked until he was fully under, his body moving with the waves of the water, cleansing him from the night.

But his father’s sick smile haunted him, even in the tranquility.

It was the same smile he’d seen since he was little. He remembered his first memory of it, when he was only four standing out on the balcony as he watched him raise the taxes in the kingdom after the beheading of a guard who was conspiring against him.

His young brain didn’t comprehend what happened that day, but the days to come definitely showed the effects his father had on the people. He never traveled to the village often, but when he did he always managed to keep his head down, shame and guilt filling his mind at the clothes and jewels weighed down in his body when everyone else wore musty brown potato sacks.

The differences only became worse when he grew older, resenting his father more and more as he noticed the gap between him and his people, the rich and poor. He only ever kept the men who were useful to him, pushing everyone else aside as casualties of his power.

The last straw was when he was fourteen, when his father brutally murdered a man right in front of his family for not lowering the price of his wine. He ran into the woods that night, looking for an escape. But the shadows of the trees and rustle of the small animals made him even more scared and lost.

But that was when he found you running through the trees, giggling with a bunny in your arms. You spotted him cowering in the bush, offering your hand and your new pet as comfort. You were an orphan, a free spirit roaming the woods with the animals as your only friends. Later on he learned that you had a mentor who taught you your skills in swordsmanship only to lose a fight protecting you against his father’s guards.

You resented him at first upon seeing the emblem of the kingdom sewn into his clothes, but he gained your trust by ripping off the patch and stomping on it with his boots, offering you his companionship.

From there you two were inseparable, he snuck out to meet you almost every night either to talk, to train or to just stroll around, enjoying each other's presence. Sure, he had multiple friends back in the castle, he had his brothers who also joined him for the rebellion, but the bond he made with you was different to anything he’s ever had before.

You were the first person he went to when he started to conspire against his father. You were the person who helped him through it, who taught him things he never knew. You were his first everything, his first fight, his first loss, his first win, his first kiss and his first love.

He couldn’t lose you, anybody but you.

And seeing you, the blood, the look, the words spilling from your mouth. He couldn't help but think it wouldn't be just a dream, that his father would get to him, would change him back to the life of a royal and make him betray the only people he was able to call home.

He wasn’t ready to face his father, no matter how many times he told himself that he was just a person, in his eyes he was the black void he saw in his dreams. A monster that couldn't be defeated.

Before he could think further, his breath caught up to him making him choke.

He gasped as his face broke the water, flailing around his arms to stay up float. He didn't know how long he had been underwater, but it gave him enough time to come up with three conclusions;

That this rebelion wasn't going to work.

The fear of his father never left.

And he was going to loose you because he was to idiotic to keep you out of his father’s wrath.

He decided to lay in the water until the sun rose and his skin became wrinkly.

...

“They’re going to set up soldiers all around the walls, our objective is to break in without being detected,” your voice boomed through the cave, concentrating on the map drawn into the brown sand, “We have people on the inside prepared to give us armor and all the materials we need,” you looked up to the people around you, “I need everyone else on the outside, even with our intel, we don’t know what the king might have up his sleeve,”

Tom watched from the corner as everyone nodded their heads. He could see almost every emotion passing through their minds, fear, confusion, regret, determination. But it was too late for them too back out now despite whatever they may be thinking, it was too late for anyone. The plans have already been set, years of preparation for tomorrow couldn't go to waste.

“Any questions?” You leaned back on the rock you sat on, looking around at the people surrounding you. Nobody dared to say anything, only looking around to there fellow pairs, silently communicating with each other, “Great,” you took the silence as a yes, “get some rest everyone,” You looked up to him with a tired smile, “You’re going to need it,”

Tom looked on as everyone dispersed, walking with one another to their respective tents and beds for the night. Usually he would stay behind with you near the fire until it went out, talking about whatever came to mind. But this time he couldn't find the heart to approach you, images of his dream flashing through his mind every time he caught a glimpse of your face illuminated by the flames.

Images of your bloody face, the harsh words seeping out of your mouth along with his father’s words jabing at his chest, making it hurt more and more with every passing second.

To the point where he couldn't handle standing in your presence much longer.

He walked out of the cave, not caring for the people he bumped into on the way out. He could feel the weight on his chest leave as soon as he caught a glimpse of the sun leaving from behind the ocean.

Despite the pressing times, the location of your lookout was beautiful. A cliff located on the outskirts of the kingdom, near the waters where the docks were only a short trip away. Sure, it was risky to set up so close to the castle, but you insisted solely because of the view.

“Shouldn't you be sleeping with everyone else?” You said from behind him, your footsteps crunching the dry grass beneath it.

“I could say the same for you,” he replied, keeping his gaze on the sea, he knew that he couldn't face you yet, but he didn't have the heart to walk away from a conversation, “You out of all of us need it,”

“We all need it Tommy,” You sighed, waking up beside him with your arms crossed, “Tomorrow is-,”

“-a very important day, I know,” he nodded his head playfully, “You’ve said it to me hundreds of times today Y/n/n, I’m surprised you didn't include it in your little speech,”

“Did you not like it?” You teased, “I thought it was quite good,”

“I’ve heard it so many times i’ve become numb to it at this point so I can't really say,” he chuckled, dropping his head to the floor, “But for your ego, it was amazing,”

“Thank you,” you said smugly, “You would have done well to you know, instead of brooding in the corner,”

“Your the spokesman here, not me,” he grinned, “I’m the one who has to safe your ass when it goes poorly,”

“I’m sorry, was i not the one who had to teach you how to hold a fucking sword properly?”

“I’m good with a sword!”

“Against a hundred men?”

“Well-,” he cut himself off, thinking of the odds in the situation. He had skill, but he was no wear as agile with a sword as you were. That, and bows weren't made for close combat.

“Thought so,” you smirked when he kept silent, pulling out a blade from your belt and twirling it around in the moonlight. You jotted it in his direction, giggling as he flinched away from the weapon, “Seems all of my training has been for nothing,”

“I’m not scared of the blade, I’m scared of you there’s a difference,”

“Then I take that back, I’m doing my job just fine,” you smiled, putting away your weapon,“Look, I have the sword and you have the arrows,” you shrugged, nudging his side with your elbow, “We make the perfect team,”

“Yeah,” he sighed, looking off at the sea, “Perfect team,”

You bit your lip, looking off into the distance with him. Tom was never one to express his emotions often, he always kept up his reputation of being a stone cold leader. But in your eyes, he was as easy to read as a children's book. You knew when he was holding back, the stiffness in his posture, his subtle lean away from you. You knew that if you leaned in to take his hand in comfort, he would deny it.

Even this morning, you noticed his hesitation to approach you with his usual hug, instead he gave you a half hearted smile before taking his horse for a ride in the nearby field. He didn't come back till sun set, waiting till the meeting to even be in the same room as you. You were surprised he didn't walk away when you approached him by the cliff, but you were grateful that he didn't.

“Everything alright?” you started, looking at him in hopes that he would make eye contact.

“You already know the answer to that Y/n,” he sighed, passing his hand over his face.

You nodded, pushing your hands into the pockets of your pants, “Well, are you going to tell me about it or just stand around stand around like a little gremlin,” you tried to make a joke but it fell flat.

Tom opened and closed his mouth, his face twisted from worry to anger to sadness. It was hard to keep up with only the side profile you saw.

“I had a dream,” he finally mumbled, letting out a deep sigh, “Well, more like nightmare,”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“I-” he ran his hand through his hair, “I don't know?” he paused, “I guess, I’m just having second thoughts about this, about all of this, ”

Your first instinct was to drill him about what he was thinking, that second guessing himself the night before you stormed the castle was stupid, irresponsible and a risk to the whole operation. But this wasn't some random person part of your people, this was Tom, your best friend, alliance and closest person you had.

“What happened?” you whispered, wanting nothing more to take his hand and pull him in a hug, “Tommy-”

“It was about you,” he finally turned to face you, his eyes red, ready to burst into tears, “It was about you, and my father and everyone who walking into this fucking mass suicide,”

You stayed silent, waiting for him to continue.

“There were bodies Y/n, bodies of everyone and my dad he- he-,”

“Hey, hey, hey,” he took his face in your hands, rubbing the tears that began to spill from his eyes.

“I just don’t understand,” he shook his head, “Why can’t we just leave, build a new life away from everything,”

“We can’t leave everyone behind,” you said softly.

“They have a choice whether they want to stay or not in the kingdom! Why should we risk our lives for there's!”

“You and I both know that they don’t have a choice Tom, not when your father is in rule,”

He sighed, licking his chapped lips, “I know, I know,” he put his hands on top of yours, “I just wish there was another way,”

“Me too Tommy,” You pulled him into a hug, his face burying itself in the crook of your neck, “But the way that I think it, if everything happens the way it’s supposed to, we could finally have the freedom we deserve. We just need to hang in there, you need to hang in there, okay?”

“I will,” he mumbled into your shoulder, “I’m just-” his breath hitched, “I’m scared of my father Y/n, I’m scared of what he’s capable of,”

“But we’re capable of more,” you pulled back, whipping the excess tears from his eyes, “We’ve been planning this for years Tommy, for years we’ve stood on the sideline watching as he terrorized the people of his kingdom, the kingdom that is rightfully yours,” you smiled, “If anything, he should be more scared of you,”

Tom scoffed, “I fine that hard to believe,”

“Well it’s true,” his hands moved to your waist, squeezing gently as you continued, “You’re no longer that scared little boy from years ago Tom. You’ve grown so much in not only your skills but your leadership. All these people have stuck with you because they believe in you, you made them believe that a life of freedom is worth fighting for,”

“That wasn't all me-”

“Tom, you convinced me that our freedom was worth fighting for, you’re the reason I’m here,” you brought your forehead against his, “You’re a natural born leader Tommy, and I have no doubt in my mind that when you face your father all fear will go away and turn into the righteous leader your made to be,”

Tom looked at you with glistening eyes, his lips slightly parted as he took in your words, “Do you really think so?”

“I know so,” you whispered.

“Y/n, I-”

“You don’t need to say anything,” you smiled, “I just- I just wanted you to know that,” you chuckled awkwardly, releasing how close the both of you had gotten.

You moved to pull away but his hands on your hips kept you still, pulling you even closer against his chest, his breath hot against your face.

You’ve always had those feelings about Tom, the butterflies flying in your stomach every time you talked. Your words became short when he looked into your eyes with his deep brown orbs.

But you always pushed it aside, for the country, for your people and the fear that he wouldn't feel the same.

��When- when this is all over,” he started quietly, “I’m not taking the crown Y/n, I can’t after everything we’ve been through, you know this,” he sighed, “I’m suppose to tell you this after the rebellion but, I found a cottage in the woods near the rivers, spent time cleaning it and i’m planning on living there for a while, at least after Harry takes my place on the throne,” he held his breath, “And I want you to come with me,”

You stood speechless at his suggestion. To be honest, you didn't know what you were doing after the rebellion was over. For most of your life you were so focussed on the outcomes of tomorrow that you never spent the time wondering what might happen after.

But one thing you knew for sure was that you weren't leaving your people, were ever they resided, you would stay with them. And that included Tom.

You were shaken out of thought when he stepped back, taking your silence as a nice way of telling him no. Before you could say anything though, he started rambling.

“You don’t have to of course, I’m sure you probably have your own plans after everything but I just thought I’d let you know,” he scratched the back of his neck, laughing off his nervousness and the rejection.

“How close is the cottage to the kingdom?” you asked, taking his hand to keep him from backing away any further.

“On horseback, maybe an hour ride?” he said.

You smiled, looking down before looking back up at him. You pulled him back against your chest, throwing your arms around his shoulders, “That sounds reasonable,” you giggled at his shocked face, “As long as were close by, I don’t see the issue with it,”

Tom let out a breathy laugh, wrapping his hands around your waist and hugging you tightly. He lifted you up in the air, spinning you around as you both erupted in giggles. All thought of war and fighting left your minds when he settled you back down, keeping eye contact as he smiled wider than you’ve ever seen.

WIthout thinking, you pushed your lips against his, immediately regretting it when he froze. But before you could pull away, he relaxed, pulling you closer and molding his lips with yours.

His lips were rougher than you imagined, dry against your skin but you could have cared less. Your fingers moved to tangle themselves in his dirty locks, smiling when he groaned into your mouth as you tugged on the strands, deepening the kiss. He passed his tongue on your bottom lip, asking for access which you granted, letting him explore your mouth for as long as he pleased. When he finally pulled away, he took your bottom lip between his teeth, pulling it gently.

“I’ve been waiting so long to do that,” he grinned, going back in to kiss the corner of your mouth.

“Took you long enough,” you giggled, nuzzling your cheek against his chest as you hugged him tightly, not wanting to let go.

Tom only tightened his arms, keeping you as close as possible. He didn’t know what the future held, he didn’t know if you’d both survive the fight tomorrow. But the one thing he knew was that right then, in that moment, he had everything he needed right in his arms.

And maybe, just maybe, things would be alright.

“We’re going to get through this Tom,” you mumbled.

“We are,” he said, resting his cheek on the top of your head, “We will, all of us will,”

...

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#tom holland #tom holland x reader #tom holland x y/n #tom holland x you #prince!tom #prince!tom holland #prince!tom holland x reader #royal!au #tom holland angst #tom holland fluff #tom holland x fem!reader

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draconic-ichor · 3 years

Text

In the Steel Steeds Heart

Chapter 11: Warmth in the Ashes

Warnings: strong language, sexual themes, blood/gore, master kink, fingering, nipple play, penetrative sex, oral sex, biting

Summery: In wake of Sturm Heisenberg gets back to the grindstone with easier projects. Juniper on the other hand is always a distraction

Feedback appreciated. 18+

Rock music blared from the old speakers, radio static mixing into the chorus of sound. Heisenberg stood over a new soldat, pulling a rod free from a machine. The rod was connected to its holder by a thick wire. He deftly flipped a lever, the rod sparking to life.

Ropes of electricity arched around the metal end of the rod. The bright flash caused Heisenberg’s silhouette to become a black shape against the red light.

Juniper watched him through the doorway, worry keeping her from getting closer. She liked to watch him, especially in one of these moods. He was passionate and ever moving forward, even in the way of a glaring failure like the day prior.

He was like a Phoenix, she mused.

The music drowned out all extra thought, the task before him consuming his mind in the moment. He took the rod, the electricity alighting his shades, shoving it into the chest of the soldat.

The power jolted though the corpse, it’s form trembling.

He was the perfect picture of a mad scientist. Heisenberg extended his hand, the lever flipped back down without his touch. He pulled the rod free of the flesh, stepping back.

The soldat sat up, muscles twitching under its stitched skin. It’s core glowed warmly as its feet met the concrete floor.

“Yes.” Heisenberg smiled widely, “You’ll do just fine.” He patted the Soldat’s arm, leading it towards its holding area.

Juniper sighed with relief.

Heisenberg fiddled with another core, trying to rewire it to match his updated schematics.

“Hey Heis?” Juniper’s brows were in a knot, looking down at the necklace compass in her hands.

“Hm?” He pushed away from his desk to look at her.

She was sitting on an operating table, bare feet swinging off the edge. Her gaze was very intent.

“I don’t think this compass works.” Juniper frowned, “It always points in different ways.”

“Maybe you should stop moving around then.” He spoke matter-of-factly.

“I’m serious.”

“Let me see.” He stood, striding over to her.

He took the compass from her hands and looked it over for a second. He turned it over in his gloved palm, going as far to move it around himself in different directions.

“Nah, it’s fine.” He concluded, handing it back over.

Juniper pursed her lips as he sat back down.

Her pondering was shattered however when realization struck her like an arrow.

“Oh my god.”

“Yes?” Heisenberg didn’t look up from his work.

“It’s you!” She jumped to the floor, holding the compass out in front of her.

“It doesn’t point north at all!”

“Took you long enough to notice.” He pointed out cheekily.

“Sorry I’m not used to my men being magnetic.” She scoffed.

“What can I say,” he smirked, “I’m one of a kind, baby.”

As the evening grew on Heisenberg began to transcribe audio recordings into files. Juniper found herself in his lap, facing him and cuddled into his chest. He had his chin resting on her shoulder, writing away. Juniper’s face was buried in the crook of his neck, her breathing slow and peaceful.

Her warmth put a blanket of comfort over him, his free hand pulled her a bit closer. He had never sought out companionship, thinking himself ostracized.

Sighing heavily, he thought of all the times he tried to become unfeeling entirely. But then Juniper fell into his lap; an outsider that didn’t view him as unapproachable. Her compassionate understanding and endless affection started to buff away his rougher edges.

She made him realize he still had the ability to feel such things. Not only that, but he could also reciprocate them. That fact still baffled him.

He realized he had long stopped writing, looking down at the still pen as the recording droned on. He carefully reached out and pressed stop on the recorder, moving back more comfortably in the chair. He joined his now free hand with his other, folded in the small oh Juniper’s back.

Heisenberg let out a steady breath, just enjoying the moment.

His eyes grew heavy, lulled by the rhythm of Juniper’s tender snoring and the hum of machinery.

Hours passed by in a dreamless sleep. By the time he woke his muscles were stiff and sore, complaining about his choice of bed. Juniper had scrunched up more into his chest, hands tangled up in his coat. Feeling wetness he glanced down. She had drooled through his shirt.

He rubbed his face for a moment, trying to wake up more.

“Buttercup.” Heisenberg spoke loud enough to try to wake her.

“Huh?” Juniper’s head shot up, voice still thick with sleep. Her cheek was red and moist where her face had been plastered to his shirt.

“My legs are asleep.” He chuckled softly, patting her ass.

She looked down over him, trying to figure out exactly where she was. The grogginess eased as she pushed up into a more sitting position.

“Not the wetness I’m used to from you.” He smirked and looked down at his shirt. Juniper's cheeks reddened with embarrassment.

“Sorry.” She squeaked.

They made their way back to the apartment, Heisenberg stretching out his sore muscles as they went.

Juniper donned a thin nightdress, jumping into the bed on-top of Heisenberg. He grunted out at the impact, her falling into his bare chest.

She was a mess of giggles as she ran her hands down his bare sides.

Heisenberg tightened, squirming a bit under her.

Juniper’s lips widened into an evil smile, “Oh! Is his Lordship ticklish?”

“No.” He growled, trying to keep his composure. Juniper doubled down, sitting on his hips and fluttering her fingers down his sides.

He couldn’t hold it in, his chest heaving under her onslaught. He surged upwards, grabbing her and overpowering her quickly. He flipped her over, switching their positions.

Heisenberg went limp over her, pressing her into the bed, snickering.

Juniper squealed under him, the sound becoming a gasp.

“Karl! I’m dying!” She tried to wiggle, but he was too heavy over her. He could still hear the laughter in her voice, telling him she wasn’t in any real discomfort yet.

“No mercy.” He growled out playfully. Juniper tried to scramble out from under him as he started to laugh.

She finally admitted defeat. Heisenberg felt her muscles go slack under him. He lifted a bit, “Buttercup?”

“I died. You killed me.” She murmured, keeping her eyes shut.

His lips curled as he bent down, giving her a few kisses over her face, smiling wider as she tried not to giggle.

She blinked up at him sweetly, “Hey Heis?”

“Hm, love?”

“I’m hungry.”

“So?”

“Let’s make food!”

Heisenberg gave an exasperated sigh, knowing she wouldn’t let him rest until they made something.

They headed to the kitchen, Juniper instructing to get butter, bread and cheese. Heisenberg eagerly complied, happy that they weren’t making one of her ‘healthy’ meals.

Juniper started making something she called a ‘grilled cheese’. He was very used to eating bread and cheese, but mostly just ate them cold.

Juniper placed a plate down in front of him, resting upon it was a toasted sandwich.

Heisenberg picked it up. It was still warm and melty. He took a large experimental bite, crunching into the buttery exterior.

He swallowed, sitting the sandwich down and looking forward for a long moment. His eyes were glazed over and he looked almost astounded.

“You like it?” Juniper giggled as she made one for herself.

Heisenberg nodded slowly. He picked it back up and ate it in a few ravenous bites. “Can I have more?” He asked, voice muffled around his last bite.

“Sure.” She nodded happily.

Five grilled cheeses later Heisenberg was laying in the bed groaning out. Juniper rubbed his stomach softly, “Was six too many?”

He shook his head, “They were fucking great.”

She cuddled up to him, “God help you if I ever make pizza.”

Heisenberg sat at the steel workbench, attempting to finish transcribing the audio files from the day previously. He was having trouble concentrating however. His legs were widely spread, Juniper’s head slotted between his knees. She knelt under the desk, holding his legs open as she nuzzled into his clothed thigh.

Her eyes were alight with playfulness as she blinked up at him. He tried to ignore her, scribbling away with his pen.

That is until her hands drifted up his calves, fingernails scratching deliciously through his trousers.

He tapped his pen for a minute tensely, pressing stop on the recording. Juniper smiled up at him with mock innocence.

“It’s hard to think when you’re doing that, Doll.” He huffed.

Nuzzling deeper she purred, “You don’t need to think, all you’re doing is copying words.”

“I still have to concentrate.” He argued, feeling her cheek brush over his concealed groin.

“My apologies, my Lord.” She tried to say the last word seductively, and watched for a reaction.

He chuckled dismissively, “The ‘Lord’ bit doesn’t really do it for me. Reminds me too much of the stupid village girls.”

Juniper huffed hearing him start up the recording again. She thought for a moment before smiling deviously.

“Sir?” She chirped, when he didn’t respond she purred out, “Or….Master?”

Now that word went straight to his dick, and Juniper could instantly feel his reaction. She felt him throb through his trousers, the material tightening.

He clenched his free hand trying to continue writing evenly.

“There we go.” Juniper smiled with victory, her hands drifting up to his belt buckle. She undid his belt then moved to his pants, freeing them enough to slip his rapidly hardening cock.

“Let kitten be good for her Master?” She hummed. Her hot breath combined with that delectable word sent blood rushing to his member.

She gave a small giggle to his reaction, flicking her tongue out to lap at the tip.

He coiled above her, his muscles tense as his pen-work teetered on the erratic.

Being very mindful of her teeth she took the head into her mouth, swirling her tongue. She heard the recording stop, and the sound of him changing out the tape. She gave a little moan as she pulled her lips free of his cock.

She glanced up to his pale eyes watching her, piercing and direct without the darkness of his shades.

She smiled up at him, his cock sending a shadow across her sweet face.

He squared his jaw, “Get up here.”

“Hm?”

“I said get your ass up here.”

“Yes, Master.” She couldn’t contain the victory shimmering in her eyes. He pushed the chair out, giving her room to rise. She bounced excitedly beside him, watching as he cleared up the more important papers from the desk.

Heisenberg leaned back in the chair, giving her a long tight look.

“Strip.” He commanded.

“Yes.” She nodded, and started to lift her dress.

He stopped her, “Yes, what?”

“Yes, Master.” She responded cheekily, taking her dress off. She took more time with her bra and panties, drawing the act out to rile him up.

She saw the muscle of his jaw twitch as she continued. She had lost her boots much earlier.

Now standing before him, naked save for her compass necklace, she waited patiently for her next direction.

Heisenberg began to pull his gloves off slowly, pointing to the desk once his hands were free, “Get on the desk.”

Juniper paced over, starting to sit onto the steel. He made a sound of displeasure, making her change her position. She leaned over the desk, pressing her breasts into the cold metal, looking back at him for approval.

He nodded, standing. He stripped his coat, placing it in the free chair, before closing the distance.

“You’ve been such a brat today.” He palmed the back of her head, gently forcing her face down against the desk. She murmured, wiggling her butt back towards him.

He chuckled a bit, seeing her so needy.

Instead of giving her what she was practically begging for, he smacked her ass. Her core clenched as she whimpered, him giving her another smack.

He continued until there was a pronounced red print on her pale ass. She was whimpering and trembling on the desk, her legs wobbling a bit to keep her supported.

“What was that kitten?” He leaned over her a bit.

“I-Im sorry.” She answered but quickly added, “I’m sorry, Master. I’ll be good.”

“Mhm.” He nodded, not at all convinced. His hand drifted down to her core, moisture dripping down her thigh. He traced the opening before plunging two fingers in, not giving her time to adjust.

She jumped under him, mewling out as he set a quick pace. His fingers quickly made obscene wet sounds from her arousal.

“You’re such a little whore.” His voice was low. He kept up the rough pace until he felt her start to clench and buck under his hands. He pulled away, a string of liquid connecting his fingers to her cunt.

She whined out at the loss of contact, earning her another smack to her, already tender, ass. She quieted down, putting her head back down dismissively.

Heisenberg lifted his fingers to his lips; sucking them free of her slick, groaning at the taste. His free hand loosened his trousers, they fell and bunched around his ankles.

He dove into her hot core, cock first. She cried out at the feeling, of him stretching her out. He gripped her hips, pulling out almost completely before snapping his hips forward burying back into her.

Juniper cried out with every thrust, trying to lift her hips to meet his. Heisenberg pushed her head back down, leaning over her and trapping her between his chest and the cold desk.

She was too caught up in the feeling to notice when Heisenberg pressed the record button on the small tabletop recorder.

His lips split his face in a devilish smile, seeing the small red blinking light on the machine.

He started to rut into her harder. Juniper mewled out, feeling the coil tighten in her stomach.

“Tell me what you want.” He growled, fingers digging into her hips.

“To, c-come…please!” She cried out, “Please master!”

He thrust into her like a piston, snaking a hand down her belly. His fingers found the sensitive bundle of flesh, teasing it in time with his thrusts.

The coil snapped, she wailed like a cat in heat.

Feeling her walls clench around him he growled, “That’s it, be a good little whore for me.”

He pulled out of her fully, watching her core tremble from the loss of his cock.

He lifted her, flipping her over into a sitting position on the desk, pulling her to the edge and filling her up again.

She cried out as he started bucking into her anew. Juniper grabbed his arms for support, her face a mess.

Heisenberg bent forward, taking one of her peaked nipples into his mouth. He sucked feverishly, keeping up a good tempo with his hips.

Juniper tangled her fingers into his coarse hair, her nails scratching his scalp. He groaned into her flesh.

He felt her legs tighten around him, promising another release. He bit into her soft breast just enough to break the skin and hear her mewl. He lapped away the blood, soothing the wound.

The pain mixed with the pleasure being all too much for her.

He pulled back enough to place his forehead against her own. He smiled at the glassiness of her eyes, watching her fall apart.

She clung onto him as she came.

The way her cunt was gripping him he wouldn’t be able to last much longer. His thrusts became erratic, breaths coming out in gasps.

His hips sputtered as he tried to speak, “Tell me w-where you want it.” He demanded, “Beg for it.”

Her vision was hazy with pleasure and words were foreign. She made a gurgling sound looking down. He grabbed her chin, forcing her to meet his eyes, holding her hip with his other hand.

“In me…p-please Master!” She cried out, begging him, “Fill me up!”

He groaned, hilting himself fully inside her. Juniper could feel his balls tighten as his cock jolted with his release.

Heisenberg huffed out hotly, her core milking his cock for everything he had. His legs wobbled a bit as he fell forward. He supported himself on his arms above her. Careful to check that she was too blissed out to notice, he quickly pressed stop on the recorder.

He smiled toothily, that tape would definitely come in handy later.

She nuzzled into the crook of his neck, little sweet breathes ghosting his skin. He dropped a kiss into her hair, gathering her up, his cock still fully hilted in her soaked folds.

“You are such a little tease.” He whispered, unable to hide the smile that tugged at his lips.

She murmured something, holding onto him.

“Hm?”

“I said, you love it.” Her voice was thick with tiredness. He patted her thigh, chuckling as he began to head back to the apartment.

As he rode the elevator up he complained halfheartedly, “How am I ever going to finish making those damn files with you acting like a bitch in heat?”

Juniper murmured something into his shoulder.

“Hm?”

“You could just ask me to work on it while you work on haulers.” She giggled slightly, “Didn’t think of that, did ya big boy?”

There was a long pause, before Heisenberg cursed under his breath, “…fuck.”

It caused Juniper to snicker into his shirt, and him to grumble.

#resident evil village #karl heisenberg #heisenberg x oc #re8 oc #heisenberg #in the steel steeds heart #heisenberg smut #resident evil

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amerrierworld · 4 years

Text

in dreams (pt 2)

The Hobbit fanfiction

Part 1

Summary: You meet the Lady of Lothlorien for what you think is the first time, but she’s already very acquainted with who you are.

Characters: Galadriel x fem!reader, Gandalf

Word Count: 2,003

“Come along then, quickly,” Gandalf ushered you along, staff tapping the ground as he led you through hallways and stairways. You hurried after him, distractingly gazing at Rivendell bathed in starlight and moonlight around you.

“Where are you taking me, Gandalf?” you asked, squeezing the last bits of water from your damp sleeves. Your clothes were slowly drying now that the sun was gone, but the air was still comfortably warm.

“To someone who wishes to speak with you,” the Wizard spoke ominously, and you rolled your eyes.

"Ah, very helpful.”

Gandalf shot you a glance over his shoulder. He led you to a winding staircase that opened up to a platform close to the mountain side, hidden behind forestry and waterfalls. There was a curious basin at eye level in the middle of the space, and you stepped closer, watching the dark water that barely seemed to move with the breeze.

You wandered to the far edge of the platform, peeking through the occasional gaps of the water and seeing the bright moon staring back at you.

“Gandalf, there’s no one here- is it some sort of prank?” you turned around, “I don’t see why-”

You halted mid sentence. Gandalf had left, inconspicuously it seemed, and the figure standing across from you was none other than Lady Galadriel. Her blue eyes reflected starlight and brightness to the point where your own might burn at the sight of them. Her pale hands were clasped in front of her, a white dress shimmering with every movement she made. Your mouth went dry and you cast your eyes downwards.

“H-hello,” you stammered.

“Greetings,” she said, softly. Softer than you could have imagined, a clear whisper still heard above the rushing of water. As you stared at your feet, she took you in. You shifted your feet around nervously, your clothing and hair still not fully dried from your skirmish in the fountain from earlier, and Galadriel felt a smile tug at her lips.

You couldn’t see it, but her heart was thundering in her chest. There you were, bashful and uncertain about your meeting. She realized with a slight sadness that you probably had not had any of the visions she had over the last few years, otherwise you would have been reacting differently.

“Do you know who I am?” Galadriel asked, remaining in her place. Your eyes crept up to meet her gaze, again startled at how clear and bright her eyes were.

“Yes, my lady,” you murmured. “You are the Lady of Lothlorien, Galadriel.”

“The elf-witch,” Galadriel replied. You flushed, blinking rapidly.

“I didn’t- that wasn’t me who- the Dwarves, they were..”

You stammered defensively, until you saw the teasing gleam in Galadriel’s expression and you huffed.

“I- I don’t think you’re a witch, my lady,” you added.

“No? Then what am I to you?” Galadriel questioned. “You seem to know who I am, clearly.”

“Well, yeah, of course,” you said, glancing down again. “Where I come from- I, I guess I know a fair bit about you.”

“Is that so? Enlighten me then.”

You blinked. “W-what?”

“Tell me what you know of me,” she ordered. You gaped at her, clearing your throat in surprise.

“Uh, o-okay. Well, I know your name is Galadriel here, but you have like, a lot more names than that. Just like Gandalf. You, uh, you’re really old and- wait, no, you’re not old, I just meant- damnit.”

You turned around to shake the nerves and watched the water and the moon instead. “You witnessed the Two Trees, right? The creation of the world, or something like that. Gosh, I can’t remember all the details, but that makes you, like thousands of years old,” you chuckled, “I’d be surprised if I even make it to one century, y’know?”

“You’ve got a husband, Celeborn- did I say that right? One of the Sindar, I think. And you, you’re one of the.. the- uh, Noldor? Pretty cool stuff, if you ask me. Lady of the Golden Wood and stuff. Oh! You have a child, right? Celebrian, Gandalf told me that was Elrond’s wife.”

You were rambling at this point, avoiding Galadriel’s eyes as you kept talking, trying to remember all your Tolkien knowledge. At the mention of her daughter, Galadriel felt her hands’ grip tighten and she took a deep breath.

“Galadriel..” you said, thinking. The Elf Queen felt a shiver as you said her name. “Or.. Artanis, right? Or, or, Nerwen. There- there was one more, Ata- Alata- uh-”

“Alatariel,” Galadriel whispered, remembering her old names, the old memories that came with it. She was frozen, watching you speak her distant selves into existence again, your ridiculous accent on Elvish names pushed aside for now.

You turned to face her again, blushing but nodding. “I must sound like a fucking creep. I just know a lot of things, I suppose. Not just about you! Gosh, I’m not a stalker, I promise. I just know about.. Middle Earth.”

“I see.”

Silence filled the space for a moment. Galadriel’s head was spinning with thoughts, unsure how to tell you how she knew about you.

“My lady,” you breathed quietly. “Why did you ask me here? Gandalf said he wanted to bring me to someone who needed to speak to me.”

“I know you, Y/N,” Galadriel said in response, startling you at the sound of your name on her lips. “More than you realize. More than I understand.”

You frowned in confusion. “What do you mean?”

Galadriel felt flushed, and she approached the basin in the centre.

“You know of the mirror?” she asked. You nodded. She beckoned you closer.

“Look.”

You obediently dipped your head to look at your reflection. Slowly, ripples formed and the image shifted. Galadriel appeared in a hazy mist, turned away from you, but wandering as if in a dream.

She was reaching out to something, following a figure that was just out of reach. Slowly, your face appeared, and you were looking at yourself through Galadriel’s eyes. You were running through Lothlorien’s trees, snapshots of your life back home appearing. Your memories were being replayed back at you, but you could sense that Galadriel was witnessing them with utter confusion, was only enraptured by your eyes and your echoing laugh.

The last image you could see Galadriel reaching to touch your own face, and a tingling formed along your cheek as you watched, before a flash overtook your vision. With a gasp, you fell back, catching yourself before your head hit the floor.

Galadriel looked slightly apologetic as you lay, gasping, your cheek feeling a bit numb. You scrambled to your feet, trembling.

“What does that mean?” you asked, eyebrows furrowed. Galadriel took a deep breath, watching you from the other side of the basin.

“Elven companionships, when special, are akin to a special bond. Most common in marriages, I have only ever shared a bond with my husband. It is an expected feeling, a foretelling before you even meet that person. But when you do, you know it, and you feel it.”

She turned and was slowly pacing in front of you. You watched her significant profile as she spoke, and felt an ache pull inside your chest.

“I believe these dreams tell me that you and I, though you are not of elf kind, share a bond like that.”

Her blue eyes flickered to you. You held her gaze this time. “You have been in my dreams for nearly some decades now, Y/N. You may not have even been alive when they started, but as you are now is how you always appeared to me.”

You stared, blinking. “What.. what does that even mean? Are we married?”

Galadriel chuckled, like the ringing of a bell. “No, dearest. Not quite. It is a connection between beings, an understanding beyond words.”

“I don’t understand,” you breathed. “You-you’re this amazing powerful elf who’s super old and wise, and I’m just a human!”

“A human from another world. There are none like you.”

“But it doesn’t make sense! I didn’t come here expecting this! I joined the quest to- to..” You bit your tongue.

“No one expects their futures, Y/N. It simply happens.”

“Easy for you to say! You knew this was going to happen.”

Galadriel shook her head. “I never knew who or what you were, or where you would come from. But something drew me to Rivendell, other than Lord Elrond’s call to the White Council here. I thought it be related to your Dwarvish friends and their dragon, but it was more than that.”

You felt pale, and a little weak in the knees. The look you and Galadriel shared felt like a piercing stab inside of you, opening up your soul and mind to her. You expected her to read your thoughts, but you felt nothing probing or digging around your brain. Perhaps she couldn’t, with you.

“Magic,” you whispered at the feeling. Galadriel smiled, her eyes crinkling, and you nearly melted on the spot.

“This world has lots of it.”

She stepped closer to you. She was tall, God she was tall, but you didn't mind. You couldn’t resist drawing a hand up to hers, and the minute your fingertips brushed her, a sharp electric shock coursed through your veins. The both of you gasped and a tingling feeling remained in your hands.

“I cannot recall anyone who has ever experienced a bond like this,” Galadriel whispered. This time you noticed her chest rising and falling quicker than you thought, and her pupils were starting to grow as she watched you. “I don’t think any of us will ever understand it.”

“That’s fine by me,” you responded, your fingers twitching. A beat. “Can I kiss you?”

Galadriel blinked, and a blush filled her cheeks. But, regaining her composure, she cheekily responded, “I don’t see how you’ll be capable of that from where you stand.”

Realizing she made fun of your height, you snorted at her. You turned so you stood up on the steps of the pedestal that the basin was on. Still a bit shorter than Galadriel, you got up on the tips of your toes and pulled her closer.

The contact felt like an electric current again, numbing your toes and fingers, making your heart stutter and your body feel alive. Galadriel’s hands grasped your upper arms and you cupped her face, gently bringing your mouths together.

A breathy whimper escaped her, much to your delight. Long fingers dragged up from your arms to your neck and held you there, coolness soothing your heated skin.

She arched her body into you and you raked your fingers through her long golden hair. When you pressed your hands to the base of her skill and tugged gently at her tresses, she gasped, loudly, and pulled away. You stumbled back a bit and nearly tipped the basin behind you over, the water sloshing over the rim.

Shaking, you lifted your fingers to your mouth, feeling the tingles and numbness left behind there.

“That’s what magic feels like?” you asked. Galadriel nodded slowly. Her eyes cast up towards the moon and a realization hit her.

“I must leave you, Lord Elrond is expecting me,” she said. Her voice was ragged and low.

“Will I see you again?” you asked. “How long are you in Rivendell?”

“As long as you wish,” she whispered, coming up to you again. This time she led the kiss, holding you firmly. You tasted the sweetness of her mouth and groaned a little.

When she pulled away she seemed satisfied by your response and lifted your hands, kissing your knuckles with a brush of her lips. Then, she briskly turned and left you there, astounded and more than a little aroused.

A/N: Yay elf love! I have no idea how true this holds to Tolkien lore, but who cares. If there is an interest for Part 3, whether it be smut or no, let me knowwww! I loved writing this, flustered Galadriel is my fave.

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myhockeyworld87 · 4 years

Text

Bubble Wrapped - Part 2

Word Count: 4,247

POV: Reader

Warnings: Language, NSFW, Smut, Please read the note in the Masterlist

Teams: Bruins, Caps, Flyers, Lightning and Pens

Notes: Ok so here we go with Part 2. I hope you guys enjoy this. I’m trying to add some of the suggestions that I’ve gotten in. Please feel free to send me an idea if you have it and I will try and work it in. Also I would love your feedback on this, as well as tell me what players you want to see. With that Happy Reading!!!

As you made your way down the long hallway to Conference Room three, you realized that you didn’t pack enough flats for these next several weeks. If things were going to happen this fast you definitely needed to ditch the heels for a pair of running shoes instead. You couldn’t imagine what had gone wrong in this short amount of time. By your calculations, the Capitals should be in there now having dinner. The Pens were Conference Room one, two was being cleaned from when the Flyers were in there and then the Lightning would go in, and the Bruins should’ve been long out of three before the Caps even went in. Even though you had everything timed out to the minute with ample time in between, you knew things were bound to go wrong, but you didn’t expect to see your conference room in complete shambles.

“What the hell is going on?” you asked Alexis as you took in the room. Food was thrown everywhere. It was on the walls, on the floor, and on the plexiglass where your servers stood; it was even on the players, even though there were only a few of them in the room itself at the moment.

“Well, you see those guys there,” Alexis pointed to a table where David Pastrnak, Brad Marchand, and Charlie Coyle all sat. “They were still eating and I had the room cleaned just like you said, but let them go because the plane was late. I totally thought they’d be done before these guys showed up.” You looked over to where Tom Wilson, TJ Oshie, and Jakub Vrana sat, some green vegetable hanging off the shirt of Oshie. “They said it wouldn’t be a problem and I only left for a second, when I came back they were already throwing food at each other.”

“Where’s the rest of the team?”

“I sent them over to Conference Room one since it’d already been cleared out.”

“Alright, go make sure everything is fine with everyone else and I’ll handle this.” Alexis scurried out of the room, as you surveyed the damage. “Alright which one of you guys started this?” They all acted like you hadn’t said a word. It was seriously like dealing with a bunch of kindergarteners. You walked over to the Bruins table first. “It’s a little ironic is it not, that they call you Pasta?” you said picking noodles off of David Pastrnak, his shoulders shook as he tried to contain his laughter. Maybe you’d have luck with the Caps players. “What about you? You guys have anything to say?” When no one said anything, you had no choice but to say. “Look you know I can go to the league with this and you guys can be sent home.” While it was true that you could do this, you doubted a little good fight was going to get anyone sent back. “But I don’t want to do this, we’re only a few hours into this...guys, can’t we try and make this work?” They seemed to mull this over yet still no one said a word. “Fine, you and you,” you said pointing the Wilson and Pastrnak. “Come with me. The rest of you have five minutes to get to your rooms.”

“Why us?” Pasta asked.

“It’s obvious, you two started it.” They both seemed taken back by the statement, so you explained further. “You both have more food on you than anyone else.”

“Well, she’s not wrong,” Oshie muttered and you were barely able to contain the laughter that bubbled inside you.

“Now, I suggest you get going as your down to four minutes.”

“But I haven’t even got to eat yet,” Vrana whined.

“Call room service.” You then told a few of the staff to clean up the mess and close off the conference room until the morning, then turned to the two culprits that were picking food off themselves to the side. “Come with me.” They turned and followed you up to your suite, which had basically become your makeshift office. Once you were inside, you turned to both of them. “Now, tell me what this is about?”

“No way you have a pool table,” Wilson stated. God, men could be so simple-minded at times. They got so easily distracted.

“Yes, Tom, it’s a pool table. Now can we focus on the matter at hand?”

“I’ll play you? Whoever wins has to follow through with the bet.” Pasta immediately said, as if you weren’t even in the room.

You stuck your thumb and index finger in your mouth, squealing out a high-pitched whistle for the boys’ attention. They both turned in your direction then. “Now that I have your attention. You’re not here to play pool. You’re here to tell me what the hell happened in my conference room and how it will never happen again.”

“You know you’re even hotter when you’re angry.” All you could do was roll your eyes and cross your arms, at Wilson’s comment. He must have noticed your impatience, for he finally added. “Look it’s a stupid bet we had last season, that he didn’t follow through on when he lost, that’s what started the food fight.”

“I didn’t lose.” Pasta insisted. “I won, and you know it.”

“You did not.”

“Woah, stop!” You hollered as the two started to bicker back and forth. “Are you saying this can all be settled with a game of pool?”

“Yeah!” They both answered simultaneously.

“Perfect, then have at it.” You motioned to the pool table and Pasta headed in the direction only to be stopped by Tom’s arm.

“So, what’s in it for us?” He asked.

“I’m sorry what? I’m giving you the opportunity to solve your damn problem.” You fairly spat the words at him.

“Yeah, but you’re also getting something out of this. I’m just thinking that we could all get a little something out of this.” He looked over at Pasta, who seemed to catch on to his meaning.

“What exactly do you want? It’s not like I have a ton to offer, and don’t forget I can still turn you both into the league.”

“Nothing major, just a little kiss.” Why you were surprised when Tom suggested that, you weren’t entirely sure. Let’s face it, you knew they were stuck in this bubble without female companionship. Hell, you were in the same situation, well maybe not the same since you were surrounded by a bunch of hot NHLers. You just didn’t expect this so early in their quarantine here.

“Fine, but after this stupid bet is settled.” They nodded their agreement, then headed over to the pool table. You barely paid attention to the game, texting Alexis to make sure everything was running smoothly downstairs; which it was. It seemed that Pasta was stripes and Wilson was solids, and it definitely seemed like Pasta had the upper hand. When you finally gave your full attention over to the game, you couldn’t help but notice when Tom leaned over the table how nice his ass was. Both men were well-toned and muscular in all the right places and you knew it wouldn’t be a hardship kissing either of them or anything else for that matter. When David stretched out to make a shot, you noticed his tattoos and your fingers itched to trace them. To say you were getting hot and bothered by these two men was an understatement.

The game started to get intense as fewer and fewer balls were on the table. Pasta missed his shot, turning it over to Tom; who literally started to run the table. It was as if he couldn’t miss. Finally, he was down to just the eight ball. If he made the shot, he would win and the game would be over. He took a deep breath, the action making you take notice of how his shirt strained against the muscles of his chest. Lining the cue up, he took the shot, and the black ball sunk into the pocket just like he had called. A bark of laughter left Tom’s lips. “I told you I was the winner before. Pay up Pasta.”

You had to admit, you were curious how much money was on the line that would cause all this trouble. David, for his part, just shook his head and pulled out his phone. It must be a huge sum if he had to transfer it from his bank account. “What do you want me to tweet?”

“I’m sorry did you just say tweet, as in Twitter?”

“Yeah,” Tom said looking at you as if you were the one that was out of your mind and not him. This whole damn mess was over a stupid Twitter message. You literally wanted to scream, but instead, you just listened as Tom told David what to say. “All it has to say is, ‘In my opinion, Tom Wilson is the best goal scorer in the league.’”

“Done,” Pasta announced shoving the phone in Wilson’s face. You had to lean over Tom’s shoulder so that you could see it as well, for you still couldn’t believe your entire conference room was in shambles over something so juvenile.

“Well, now that, that’s settled boys, I assume I won’t have any more problems from the two of you in my hotel.”

“Oh, you still have your part of this bargain,” Tom said, gliding the back of his finger down your arm. You suppressed the shiver the sensation gave you.

“Alright, who’s first then.” You were never one to back down from a bet and this was no exception.

“By all means,” Tom motioned for Pasta to go first.

David took a step toward you, wrapping a strong arm around your waist as he pulled you close to him. Your hand pressed against the rock-hard muscles of his chest before making its way to the back of his neck. He brushed a lock of hair from your face, then placed his hand gently on your cheek to caress it before his lips came down on yours. The kiss was gentle, yet firm at the same time and you opened tentatively so that he could slide his tongue into your mouth. His hand which rested at your back pulled you in closer and you went willingly. You had a feeling if Tom wasn’t watching this would turn into something more than just a kiss. But Tom was watching and waiting, and you weren’t willing to give David anything more with an audience. So you gently broke away, allowing him to chase your lips with a few last kisses.

“You may have won the little pool match Wilson, but I doubt you’ll win anything more with this one here.” Why did everything have to be a competition?

You turned toward Tom, fully expecting him to take you in his arms and kiss you senseless. Instead, he grabbed you around the waist only to whisper low in your ear. “Another time princess, maybe when we don’t have eyes on us.” He released you then but then turned back. “I will be back for that kiss you owe me.” With that the two left your suite, leaving you a bit dazed and breathless, and longing for that kiss as well.

Shaking yourself, you brought yourself back to the present and what needed to be done at the hotel, instead of daydreaming of what kissing Tom Wilson would be like. A quick call to Alexis told you that all the players had eaten but there were still a few milling about in each of their designated workout areas. You slipped out of your business attire and opted for a comfy pair of leggings with an oversized shirt to make one more round through the hotel before calling it a night.

You ran into Carly in the lobby. “So how’d everything go on your end? Any outlandish requests for something to be brought in?”

“Not so far. I think the Pens want some extra gym equipment, but I’ve got it covered.”

“I knew I put the right woman in charge.”

“Speaking of being in charge? What the hell happened with Conference Room 3?” You rolled your eyes.

“Food fight.”

“Oh, I heard that. I also heard you took two of them to your room?” she wiggled her eyebrows at you suggestively before elbowing you in the ribs.

“Had to get everything straightened out.”

“And…”

“And maybe, I might have kissed one of them.” She gave you a mocked look of shock.

“Nothing else?”

“Not at the moment, though I do owe the other one something, and let me tell you I won’t mind paying off that debt at all.” Just the thought of Tom holding you had you hot and bothered. “And on that note, I’m going to finish up down here before calling it a night. I think Tim has the night shift tonight if anyone needs anything.”

“Yeah, he does. He’s back in the office, making sure things are ready for breakfast. I just told him I was done for the night. I’m heading off to bed, don’t have too much fun down here.”

“Me, what about you, Car? There’s not some hot NHLer waiting in your room?” She headed for the elevators but turned back to answer you.

“Not tonight, but tomorrow could be a whole other story.” With that, she was gone as the elevator doors slid open and shut again.

You headed off to make sure the conference rooms were fine. When you noted that everything was in place, you went to check on the workout rooms. They were supposed to be cleaned periodically throughout the day, but with being open twenty-four seven; you wanted to make sure housekeeping wasn’t slacking. A quick walk past the Capitals and Pens rooms showed that no one was in there and they were spotless. As you went into the Flyers' workout facility, you could see someone inside. You tried to cough discreetly as to not scare them, but they didn’t hear you. The room had a few mirrors around it, but he happened to not be looking in any of them as he was doing squats with some free weights. He had his shirt off and a tight pair of shorts on, that let you see every muscle as he crouched down working on his quads and other various leg muscles. A few droplets of sweat had formed on his body and you itched to dry them off for him. Your mouth went dry the longer you stared at him as you were trying to make out the tattoo on his arm. It was at that moment that he caught you staring, a knowing smiling crossing his face. “Sorry…” you stuttered out after being caught red-handed.

“I’m not.” He dropped the weight down on the bench beside where he was working out before grabbing a towel and wiping off the sweat on his body. “Did you come to use the equipment or did something else bring you here?”

“Something else,” you realized the mistake as soon as the words left your mouth. “I mean…I was…” In a few short steps, he was standing in front of you and suddenly you couldn’t quite remember why you were there.

“Something else works for me.” He leaned his hand against the wall behind your head; his body so close you could feel the heat coming off of it.

Taking a deep breath, you tried to compose yourself, as you didn’t need this man to get under your skin as much as he was. “I was just making sure everything was fine in this room. I didn’t mean to disrupt your workout. I’ll let you get back to it.”

You made a move to back out the door when he grabbed your hand. There was an electricity in his touch and had you both looking down to where his hand touched your body. “Don’t go…I mean, I was done…” It was nice to see he was just as flustered as you were for a moment. It put you both on an even playing ground after you’d been caught staring at him. “I’m Travis by the way, most people call me TK.”

“I know.” You replied, before adding. “Konecny from the Flyers.”

“Well, now you have me at a disadvantage.”

“I’m (Y/N). I manage the hotel.” You said almost extending your hand to shake his and then realizing that wasn’t acceptable at the moment.

“Oh, so you’re the one in my little handbook to call if I have any problems.”

“That’s me. Here to help you in any way I can.” You let the innuendo hang in the air a bit and you saw its meaning wasn’t lost on him.

“So if I told you there was a problem in my room, would you send maintenance to come look at it or would you do a thorough inspection yourself?” Oh, he was smooth, you had to admit that.

“Well, it wouldn’t make sense to call maintenance when I’m right here, now would it?”

A raise of his eyebrows was your answer back before he went over and grabbed his shirt and belongings. “Then I think we should definitely go check out that problem.” His hand went to the small of your back as he led you out of the room and to the elevators. “I’m in room…”

“Five-twenty,” you supplied.

“Should I feel special that you know that?”

“Do you want the honest answer?” He shook his head yes. “No, it’s my job to know who’s in what room. In case you haven’t noticed this whole thing is kind of a big deal. I have all my I’s dotted and my T’s crossed.”

“So you know every guys' room number here?”

“It sounds a little pathetic when you put it that way.” Maybe pathetic wasn’t the right word, but desperate was one you didn’t want to use.

“No, I’m actually impressed.” He tilted his head looking over at you as you pressed the number five in the elevator. “So if I asked you what room Brad Marchand was in you’d say?”

“That I can’t tell you that, but it’s in the teens and about three floors up from you.” He chuckled softly and you realized you liked the sound of his laugh.

The two of you walked in silence the rest of the way to his room. Thankfully, there weren’t any players milling about in the hallway. “This me.” He said when you were in front of his door. He fumbled with the key, then opened it.

“What seems to be the problem? TV not working? View not to your liking?” You teased and he caught on quickly.

“Actually, it’s the mattress. I swore I heard it squeak earlier.” He tossed his t-shirt and keys on the dresser.

You moved to the bed, pressing on the mattress. “Hmm, seems fine now.”

He grabbed at your waist then, pressing you close to his body. “But see, I’m a very active sleeper. You can’t get the full effect unless you’re on the bed.” He tossed you back onto the mattress and a giggle escaped your lips. Travis crawled on the mattress then, stalking his way up your body. “Didn’t seem to do it then either. I think we’re going to have to give it a thorough workout.”

“But of course, I mean I want you to be completely satisfied with our hotel service.” A half-smile appeared on his face for a split second before his lips were crashing down on yours. His lips were soft yet sure, and you opened immediately for him; his tongue sweeping inside to tangle with yours. He was a good kisser, that was your first thought, and you wouldn’t mind just doing this all night. But then he was pressing his hips into your body and realized you wanted more. Your hands glided up his back, feeling his slightly damp skin from his workout.

He finally broke the kiss, both of you needing air. His hands gathered your shirt, but then he stopped himself. “Can I?” You moaned out a yes, wanting as little clothing between your bodies as possible and he hauled you up so he could take the oversized shirt off. “This is pretty.” He commented, while lightly tracing the lace of your bra. “I think I’d like it better off though.” Travis hands worked around to your back unclasping your bra and toss it to the side. “Fuck, these are perfect,” he breathed out as he drank in the sight of your breasts. His mouth was on them then, taking a peaked nipple in his mouth and swirling his tongue around it. A moan left your mouth and you could feel yourself growing wet as he continued to lavish your breasts.

Snaking your hands around his neck, you drew him back down onto the mattress with you. He rolled you both onto your sides, his mouth coming back to yours so he could kiss you again. Neither of you was in a rush, as your hands ghosted along his chest and his played with your nipples. Time sort of stood still, as the two of you just laid there kissing slow and sensually. After a while, Travis pushed you back against the mattress, your legs on either side of his waist. He flexed his hips into your clothed core and you felt a rush of wetness between your spread legs. He continued to roll his hips into you, as his mouth alternated between your breasts. You lay there panting and moaning with each flex. “TK…” you finally breathed out. “Stop teasing.”

“Oh baby, you haven’t seen me tease yet.” As if to prove his words, he sat back on his legs and started to remove your leggings. He only rolled them halfway past your hips, then brought the waistband up before snapping it back down on your core. Heated flooded you there and the moan that left your mouth was almost obscene. “You like that?” and he repeated it one more time before stripping of you of both your panties and legging. “Fuck yeah you do. You’re soaking.” He didn’t have to even touch you to see how wet you were. He wasted no time, inserting two of his fingers in you as his mouth sucked on your clit. You about came off the bed. He continued to work his fingers in and out of your body as his tongue made kitten licks on your nub. You could feel your body tingle as the orgasm started to build. It hovered there, just beyond your reach and you threaded your hands in TK’s hair urging him on; only to have him stop.

“Travis…” you whined out.

His eyebrows shot up. “That’s teasing babe.” You groaned in frustration as his fingers left your pussy. “Don’t worry, I’ll make it better in a sec.” He pushed his shorts down his hips, then kicked them off. His mouth coming up to cover yours and you could taste yourself on his lips. With one smooth glide forward, his cock pushed into you; your hips rising up to meet him. “Fuck you feel good.” He moaned out, then started to pump in and out of your body. It was a slow pace at first as he was building up a rhythm for the both of you to follow. “Yeah babe, that’s it.” He praised as you met each of his thrusts. The combination of his teasing beforehand and steady pace, had you back on the edge in no time. Travis leaned in close to your body, your faces merely inches away. “Come on baby…I know you’re close….” He sped up then, his cock hitting that sweet spot perfectly. “That’s it.” You went to scream as a wave of pleasure washed over your body, but he captured your mouth swallowing the sound down as he came with you. He pumped inside you a few times, just reveling in the feel of your pussy clenching around him, before breaking the kiss so you both could breathe. When he was finally spent, he collapsed onto his side, rolling you with him. “That was…”

“Mmm, I agree.” You whispered back. “Though I don’t think your mattress has any problems.”

He laughed and you felt the vibrations in your body, as he held you close to him. “Who could tell with all your moaning.” He teased back then flicked your nose.

“Me? I wasn’t the only one.”

He shrugged a shoulder as if he didn’t want to admit he was just as loud as you. “Hope the walls are thick here.”

“They’re decent, just don’t give me away if Hart asks you any questions in the morning.”

He laughed out a, “never.” You pecked him on the lips, then started to get out of bed. “Where are you going?”

“I’ve got things to do.”

“Things or other people?” You couldn’t quite tell if he was teasing or jealous.

“Things… but you have my number if the mattress suddenly starts squeaking again.” You gave him a wink as you shimmied on your leggings and threw on your shirt.

He grabbed your hand and brought you down so your face was inches from him. “I have a feeling it may act up again.” His lips were on yours kissing you hard and fast.

“I’ll be waiting for your call.” With that you headed out the door, quietly shutting it before walking down to the elevator. Well, day one was definitely interesting. You couldn’t wait to see what day number two would bring.

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narrators-journal · 3 years

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Vampiric lust

This one’s extra ✨ spicy ✨ because I had some fun with the scenario. Also, is this likely gonna become an AU like Cat and Mouse? Likely lol.

CW: Somnophilia, vampires, some of the stuff might come off as super dark?

Vampires weren't known for getting attached to humans often, but it wasn't insane for it to happen. Though, most times said attachments were food related, as in the vampire would keep an eye on or keep a human around to repeatedly feed on them, Stanley Snyder wasn't trailing his chosen favorite for food exactly. No, the tall vampire was so interested in this one particular man for a few reasons, one of the strongest being that he was highly, highly attracted to him. It was true, Stan had his pick of men to sate his sexual needs, but few provided the thrill and challenge that Xeno Wingfield gave him. No, somehow the pale, deceptively-weak-looking, college-grad-turned-monster-hunter had drawn his attention and kept it for a year and a half at this point, a feat no other human he'd favored had managed. Usually, Stan would get bored of whatever human he'd decided to follow around within a month, but Xeno was interesting. He was a monster hunter, so of course he never quite feared the vampire, but more than that, he was openly hostile to him, something not many people had the balls to be. However, he wasn't keen on outright attacking the blonde, so it became a bit of an entertaining game for Stan to harass, flirt, and tease the college graduate until he got so annoyed that he was basically shrieking at him with creative threats. However, such an attachment came with an issue after a while. Not because of food, the vampire made sure to eat properly, but there were a few nights where his last remaining human urge reared its ugly head. On those nights, he mostly had to leave his usual spot in the hunter's yard and attempt to repress that last carnal urge so he didn't lose his mind and ruin his plans for his and Xeno's relationship, but it was a temporary fix to a festering, chronic issue. Tonight was a perfect example of the times he'd usually slink off to his own home and wait out the small, evil voice in his head, but this time he couldn't get away fast enough before things went downhill. Stan had been preparing to leave the hunter's yard as the dark voice in his head began demanding he just take his prey by any means necessary, demanding for him to finally fully sate the icky burn in his loins for intimate companionship, but than Senku decided to talk to him. Which, wasn't uncommon, the leek-haired apprentice-monster-hunter was a great source of intel on his mentor since he and the pale, cranky man didn't exactly get along, but sadly for the blonde's restraint, he was feeling extra spiteful tonight. So, that's how the handsome vampire got permission to enter their shared home. Alright, cool, I can now physically enter his house. Exploring it should definitely wait for a different night. The rational side of his brain told him. Or, I could go in tonight, while Senku's away, and scope the place out and maybe see what Xeno sleeps in. That second voice offered, an offer he ended up taking on an impulse. Usually, Stan had impeccable control of his instincts with only minor slips, but the sight of the hunter he'd been so attracted to so vulnerable before him did things to his predator side. There he laid before him, the man who'd shown the tall, well-built creature of the night no fear in any of their interactions, eyes closed, lips slightly parted to snore or murmur soft nonsense to the dark, quiet room that he'd just found like a piece of cake begging to be swiped from the fridge. All of his fire was gone, his bottomless eyes not glaring up at the blonde, instead his head was turned to expose his throat and seemingly invite Stan to just take a nibble, in either sense of the word. It drove him insane. If his hormones weren't already insanely high, they were sky rocketing at the sight. So, the tall blonde almost couldn't help himself from taking advantage of his night vision to creep to the foot of the bed and slither under the covers so he could not only feel his crush's pale skin, but also see his pajamas. While he'd hoped to see him maybe in his boxers, knowing from the bit of a shirt sleeve he'd seen peeking from under the comforter that he'd not get him sleeping completely nude, he was not expecting to see the small male's legs half open and nothing on but a white button up that was about two sizes too big for him and had ridden up to his stomach, allowing the horny predator to see his genitals easier. The sight near-instantly filled the man's head with lascivious thoughts. Shifting slightly barely helped the beginnings of an erection, but it did put him closer to the hunter's groin, and without thinking, Stan's tongue shot out to lick up Xeno's length, making the sleeping man's member twitch in response to his sampling. Just like that, all of his control was nearly gone and he was moving further onto the bed to take the taunting member carefully into his fanged mouth. Stan nearly groaned audibly at the taste, savoring the thrill having prey so vulnerable and at his mercy sent through him before beginning to slowly move up and down his length. He did his best to be cautious of waking him up, but already his blue eyes were blurring with lust that increased with each soft sigh and moan that slipped past the sleeping hunter's lips above him, his urges only kept at bay because he was already fulfilling one of his smaller fantasies. While he had regained control of his instincts a bit, his thoughts were still just as raunchy and slightly demented as they had been before. Oh you are so lucky that I can't risk leaving evidence. Otherwise I'd rail your cute ass into the fucking mattress, Xeno. It wouldn't even matter if you woke up and caught me, your ass would be MINE. Of course, he refrained from acting on such possessive and screwed up thoughts, helped by the reminder that leaving any evidence of him being here would ruin any chance he had of consensually getting the hunter into bed, which he preferred over bedding him by force. Option one meant he would likely get a second round, option two, while momentarily satisfying, would be a one time thing, which would fade after a while. So, Stan pushed back those amoral thoughts and just continued to bob his head and run his tongue up the college graduate's length or around the tip to draw out noises. Sadly, when the pale man began softly moaning and sighing while Stan bobbed his head gently along his stiffened length, that issue slowly lost all teeth. So, in an attempt to lessen that threatening urge, Stan reached his hand down between his own legs and palmed his own erection as he sucked more mewls and muttered curses from the hunter. And, for a time, it worked to keep his predatory side at bay. However, the added friction forced out some low moans of his own, which made Xeno gasp out a quiet, slurred, "S-Stanley!" that dripped of desperation. That one groan held such a strong plea for the predator to fuck him silly, that it went straight to Stan's dick with so much force that he was insanely close to fulfilling that wish tenfold. Instead, the blonde pulled Xeno's member from his mouth and press his face into the sheets to wait out the onslaught of impatience. His whole body was thrumming with so many possessive, creative thoughts and ignited hormones that the mental image of Xeno begging for a break from Stanley's merciless pounding sent the blonde over the edge into carnal bliss. Afterwards, it took a few moments for Stan to come down from the euphoria high and wrangle that voice in his head ordering him to give the hunter what he obviously wanted in. Alright, time to go, he told himself, taking the moment of clarity to be smart and leave before he did something stupid. However, as he was backing up to get out from under the comforter, he realized that Xeno's dick still stood erect and twitching, begging to be played with until he climaxed, which, admittedly, was a sight Stan very much wanted to see and hear. So, he returned to it, giving the eager thing a firm lick from base to tip before sucking it back into his mouth. He could've simply reached up and used his hand to stroke him, but he very much wanted to taste the pale hunter, so he bobbed his head along his length and listened to Xeno's sighs and mewls while he worked. The blonde hummed around it, relishing the thrill having a human at his mercy, yet not killing or harming them, brought as well as the salty taste of Xeno's precum. The low groans and occasional moans his movements brought out added to the excitement, but since the blonde had orgasmed, he was thankfully a bit more in control of himself, so he refrained from railing the hunter just yet, instead just bobbing his head until Xeno gave another gasp of his name and orgasmed into the vampire’s mouth. Stan grinned, drinking it down and pulling away again to lick the remains from the other man's shaft. With that, and his own orgasm, the blonde laid there for a moment or two, just watching the sleeping man's cock soften once more as he debated whether he could get away with maybe gently fucking the snow-haired man. I really shouldn't. He's very likely to wake up, and I don't have THAT much self-restraint. He told himself, and he knew he was right, his dark side was just waiting for a big enough moment of vulnerability from him to take over and get him into deep, pleasurable, fantasy-fulfilling trouble... Despite really wanting to do nothing more than fuck Xeno's brains out, the vampire forced himself to fully leave the covers and stand up in the dark bedroom. That gave him a chance to see Xeno still laying there, panting slightly, his cheeks a tint pinker. He looked so inviting and adorable, it went right to Stan's dick a second time, but he was able to resist the urge to get back in the bed. Instead, he just turned to leave the home.

#stano #stan x Xeno #vampire!Stan #dr stone #drst #Xeno x Stan #scenario #not sfw #somnophilia #monster au

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slashyrogue · 3 years

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It wasn’t easy for a human to attract a shifter.

Or so Will had heard.

He’d never had much experience with them, but the rarity of human x shifter couplings were so that there were even classes in order to help those who were desperately attracted to the idea.

His shifter wasn’t hard to attract at all.

The minute he’d met Dr. Hannibal Lecter, the cat shifter had formed an odd attachment to him. This phenomena was even more rare, as cats were the most fickle of the shifter types. There were some cats who didn’t mate at all, finding solace in being alone, and others who only stayed amongst their own kind.

Hannibal seemed the first type, or so the many people who remarked to Will later would tell him, and as the weeks progressed Will found himself with a conundrum.

He wasn’t interested.

Will had never been interested in relationships with other humans, let alone becoming a shifter mate for life, and though Hannibal tried his best to woo him he really wasn’t Will’s type. Shifters in general had never paid much attention to Will that way so he’d ignored them when he found someone to spend the night with, and Hannibal’s attractiveness aside there was just nothing about him Will found interesting.

But how to tell him?

Jack Crawford had remarked to Will how “sensitive” an issue like rejection was to shifters. A wolf shifter himself, Jack was the only shifter Will knew outside of Hannibal he could talk to.

“You’re sure about this, Will?” Jack asked, frowning, “I mean...you know what they say about cat shifters.”

Will blushed.

“I do."

“So, I mean...”

“I’m not interested, Jack,” he sighed, “And it’s getting to be a problem.”

Cat shifters were said to be amazing in bed, like one night with one and you’d never want to be with anyone else again.

Will thought that sounded terrifying.

Hannibal’s attempts at wooing him so far had begun to increase, nightly offerings of food and companionship that Will didn’t want or need but couldn’t turn away. He knew this was supposed to be a compliment, but it was starting to effect his entire life.

“Well,” Jack sighed, scratching behind the brown ears on top of his head, “Just do it gently. I’ve heard cats can get...prickly. Hannibal doesn’t seem the type but you never know.”

“I’ll try.”

“And maybe I’ll start looking for another psychiatrist to...help you through your...problem.”

Will nodded and left Jack’s office, feeling a bit better, and yet as he waited for the elevator doors to open he knew he’d miss that aspect of all this.

His weekly visits to Hannibal’s office were nice, friendly, and Will didn’t genuinely hate them. Hannibal treated him like a person, more so than most humans did, and as much as he wasn’t attracted to him he wanted to remain friends.

Would that even be possible after this?

The doors opened and Will was so caught up in his thoughts he didn’t notice he wasn’t alone till the doors closed.

“Hello, Will.”

Hannibal’s accented purr startled him, making Will jump in surprise. “Hannibal,” he squeaked, coughing, “I...I didn’t notice you. Sorry.”

“You seem upset. Is there an assignment from Jack that’s troubling you?”

“No,” he whispered, squeezing his hands at his sides, “Nothing like that.”

“I see.”

“What are you doing here?”

“I was looking for you,” Hannibal said honestly, “And as you were not home I suspected you to be here.”

Will blushed. “Oh.”

“Is there something the matter?”

He couldn’t bring himself to look at him. “No.”

“Will...”

“Not here,” he mumbled, shaking his head, “It’s best if we...”

The elevator suddenly lurched and he fell back only to have Hannibal catch him. He stared up into Hannibal’s amber eyes, surprised, and pulled himself away a moment later.

“What was that?”

Hannibal walked to the elevator buttons and pressed them.

Nothing happened.

“It seems we’re stuck. The elevator must have stalled.”

Will sighed, leaning against the wall. “Perfect.”

Hannibal smiled at him. “Is it?”

He frowned. “I didn’t mean...”

“We will have some time alone together until it’s fixed I suspect. If you wanted to talk about your problem now....”

“No,” Will sighed, “I...”

“Will, you’ve never had a problem speaking your mind to me before. What is it that makes this different?”

He blushed, looking down at his shoes. “It’s not--”

“Is this because of my interest?”

Will looked up at him. “Um...”

He watched Hannibal’s face fall. “I see.”

“It’s been a few weeks and really I like talking to you in sessions but---”

Hannibal moved as far away from him as possible. “No, it’s perfectly fine. I wouldn’t want you to feel obligated to accept my courting if you weren’t attracted.”

Will’s stomach tightened. “I’m not....into shifters. Okay? I haven’t really ever been that much into men in general. It’s not you, it’s---”

“Please, don’t,” Hannibal hissed, his eyes suddenly flashing, “I do not need your pity.”

“Hannibal...”

“I think it best if you call me, Dr. Lecter from now on. I’d prefer it.”

The dismissal made Will sadder than it should have. “Ok.”

Silence followed, and while Will’s phone didn’t work he was able to track fifteen minutes passed before someone’s voice came through the speaker.

“Hello in there!”

They both looked up from where they sat on the elevator floor and Will shot up rushing to the speaker.

“Hey, we’re stuck!”

“We see that! It’ll be a bit of a wait, fellas! Bobby called off sick and he’s the only one who knows how to handle number three but we’re calling in the repair guys who’ll be here in an hour.”

Will sighed. “Fine. Just...let us know.”

“Will do!”

He saw Hannibal had moved away from him again and seemed to be doing everything he could not to acknowledge Will’s existence.

“It--”

“I heard,” Hannibal said, glaring at him, “I have very good hearing.”

The pale brown ears at the top of his head were down low in his anger. Will had never seen them look like that before. “I know.”

“And I’m very highly sought after,” Hannibal continued, “Many others want to mate with me. Many, many, others.”

“I...”

“Cat shifters are amongst the highest regard to mate with, did you know that?”

Will blushed. “Yes.”

“And yet...”

“It’s me, Han---Dr. Lecter. Not you. You’re...great. Attractive, nice, and just...great.”

Hannibal frowned, his ears raising. “And yet you do not find yourself attracted to me.”

“No.”

“Have you even attempted to see me in that regard?”

Will cocked his head. “What do you mean?”

“Have you...let yourself see me in that regard? Thought of me when you were pleasuring yourself? Imagined what mating with me would be like?”

Will felt his cheeks redden. “No.”

“Why?”

“I just...didn’t.”

Hannibal crawled closer to him, staying on his hands and knees as he looked at Will. He could smell his aftershave, and the light in his eyes was oddly beautiful.

“Because you don’t think you ever could or because you’re afraid if you did you wouldn’t want to stop?”

Will licked his lips. “Hann...”

Hannibal leaned down to run his tongue across Will’s knuckles. He shivered, and a sudden throb of desire seemed to kick in. “I would do my best to pleasure you, Will. As much as you could handle and often.”

He nuzzled Will’s hand now, and Will couldn’t resist scratching under his chin.

“Dr. Lecter...”

“Hannibal,” he purred, looking up again, “Please, Will...call me Hannibal.”

Will’s cock twitched. “Hannibal, this...”

“Are you interested now, Will?”

“Yes,” Will said without hesitation, “What are you doing to me?”

Hannibal smiled and licked Will’s hand again. “Absolutely nothing.”

Will sighed. “No, you have to be. I...”

“You saw me as a sexless figure, Will, and were unable to get past that. This seems to have been what was stopping you.”

“No, I’m not even into shifters.”

Hannibal lifted his head and Will watched as his whiskers grew more prominent.

“Perhaps you’re only into me.”

He reached up to touch Hannibal’s cheek and swallowed past the dryness in his throat. “Or you’re using some kind of cat sex trick on me.”

Hannibal climbed up into his lap and Will groaned as he felt him grind against his already hardening cock. “Mmmm...”

Will found it hard to concentrate on anything else, grabbing hold of his hips and arching up to meet the tease. “Fuck...”

He licked across Will’s cheek and the loud purr he gave made Will whimper.

“Shall I stop?”

“No,” Will sighed, “Fuck, don’t...”

The sudden lurch of the elevator made them both pause. Will felt them start to move and they looked at each other. Hannibal smiled and teased another lick to Will’s cheek.

“It seems we’ll have to continue this another time.”

He got up and Will whimpered at the loss. “Wait!”

Hannibal stared down at him smugly. “It seems...you’re attracted to shifters after all.”

Will sighed. “You can’t just leave me like this.”

The elevator doors opened and Hannibal walked through to the other side. He turned to wink at Will. “If you’re interested in continuing our...discussion...you know where to find me.”

And with that he was gone.

Will stood up slowly, blushing as several people stared at him, and rushed out of the elevator. His cock was so hard he could barely walk and yet he got to his car barely able to stop thinking about Hannibal.

The minute he was alone he had to resist the urge to jerk off.

“Fuck.”

It seemed he was interested after all.

#hannigram au #cat shifter hannibal #human will #my writing #random ideas #not beta'd

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leiainhoth · 3 years

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Work summary: For so long, Din fought the reality of giving the child up, giving him to the jetii and moving on. He had prepared for it, packed a bag and left it all behind, so his son could have the life he deserved. All until he didn't have to. Or the one where Luke rescues Grogu on Tython, and Din rescues Luke in return.

Chapter summary: Luke, Din and the child continue their journey to Mos Espa, and Din makes a startling discovery

...

The pre-dawn light stirs Luke from a dream, and he rises with a grin. It was the sixth morning of their journey, the sixth day of traversing the desert waste of Tatooine with strangers and friends alike, and he was enjoying it. Surely more than one should enjoy journeying across dunes on the back of a bantha. But he was. He was at peace— true peace— perhaps for the first time since he had left Tatooine in the first place all those years ago.

There was peace to be had, even when Luke thought himself incapable of relaxing outside of his morning meditations, this was it. This was what he had been searching for, this feeling, this realization that his endless searching would never be victorious. That perhaps what he needed was to be still, be still and listen.

The force was like the wind, here. It ebbed and flowed, the energy of all living things tangled in a web, connecting each and every thing to another. It swelled around Grogu, the child small in his father's lap, dipping and swaying around the Mandalorian. Luke looked within, pleased and in awe of the feeling of oneness that the force had always given him. There was still so much Luke didn't know. So many secrets and techniques that had been lost, fallen to time. He wanted to learn, wanted to listen, but his world was so noisy, engines and footsteps and clanging metal. There was no use for the force on Chandrila, on Coruscant, on any of the core worlds. Whatever the Jedi order used to be before the war was gone, now. It was up to Luke to decide how it would continue; if it would continue, the future of the Jedi was in his hands.

It was a lot of pressure, Luke thought with a reflective exhale, a pressure that had been placed on him with the expectation that he would fulfill it. But he was older, now. Not necessarily wiser, but perhaps warier. Less anticipatory, more thankful; not often expectant of good things to come his way. It made him feel old, and Leia had teased him about it when he told her. But he was a Jedi master, damn it. What the order looked like, what it felt like, was up to him. And nothing Leia could say would change his mind.

Luke opened his eyes from his musings and looked around, not that there was much to look at. They were still far enough from Mos Espa that the landscape was unfamiliar. And even if he had, as a youth trapped here, he wasn't focused on the sand so much as the sky. Wishing beyond his wildest hopes that one day he'd be able to pilot something better than a landspeeder or a skyhopper, that he'd join the Academy and never have to step foot on Tatooine again.

It was a dream he had garnered for much of his childhood, unaware of his father's prowess as a pilot beyond what Owen and Beru had told him. Unaware, but still hopeful that there was something greater waiting for him out there.

But that was years ago, Luke thought with a pain of nostalgia, almost ten years. He wasn't a youth anymore, and any great hopes he held for his future were quiet ones. Find more force-sensitive younglings, set up a temple on a peaceful planet. Spend time with his sister, and Han and Lando, try and keep his droids running smoothly and his lightsaber in one piece. He wanted a life for himself that was different than that of a rebellion hero, something…predictable, something still. Something with a garden and a familiar bed, and… if he could be selfish, perhaps a companion. Someone to keep him company, someone to love and cherish and grow old with. Luke wanted that life, a quiet life.

He had spent his years in the rebellion being what the alliance needed him to be; a damn good pilot, a leader, an example: the poster boy for hope and peace across the galaxy. But he wasn't that man anymore. He didn't want to be a hero; he wanted peace . Because with heroism came fame, recognition; Luke didn't want people to come up to him and thank him for his service. He didn't want those he didn't know to shake his hand and congratulate him on what he did for the rebellion. He didn't want the insignia of the damn Death Star painted on the starboard wing of his X-wing, a concrete and constant reminder of what he had done in the name of the rebellion.

A million souls had died that day, and there were still nights Luke woke up in a cold sweat imagining their fiery deaths. Still times when he sat down suddenly in great pain, still moments where he was overcome with the overwhelming swells of grief and loss. Leia tried to comfort him, as did the droids in the medbay after he came to that day. It wasn't your fault, they told him, pressing the personal comm code for the rebellion psychologist into his palm. You did what had to be done. More people would've died, whole systems would have been destroyed had we not done it first.

We , they had said, and Luke remembered. Had not we done it first. But there was no we, was there? There were the half dozen pilots behind him, and later Han and Chewie in the Falcon, but it was Luke who made the shot and ended it all. Luke, who would hold those souls with him for the rest of his days.

And all because Luke wanted to be a hero, all because he wanted nothing more than to leave when all that he had ever truly needed was at hand, sitting on a moisture farm in Tatooine.

It was easy to say it was all behind him; the war was over. He was lucky that so many of his friends had survived, that he still had his X-wing and Artoo and Chewie and Han and Leia, but…something was missing. Of course, he had lost friends; he wasn't the only man to be orphaned and alone. But it wasn't just that; it was companionship that Luke craved. A companion who didn't care that he was Luke Skywalker of the rebel alliance, who didn't mind the lightning scars on his arms and belly, someone who didn't care he had a missing hand and debilitating nightmares; someone who wouldn't ask questions he didn't want to answer. Someone to joke with him, to care for him, someone who would hold him tight and not let him go.

Luke remembered crumbling the comm code in his palm, nodding to the droid so they would leave, promising to himself that he'd never call them no matter how bad it got. He couldn't bear the pity in their eyes, the looks of disappointment when they saw him for who he truly was. As if he'd let them down; as if the great impenetrable Luke Skywalker was a fluke, not a hero, just a kid from Tatooine with strange powers and a good trigger finger. He wasn't all that they thought he was.

And so, for five years, he tried to forget.

And frankly speaking, he was more or less successful. He watched with pride and happiness as Leia, and the other generals in the rebellion became the pillars of the New Republic, stood by their side when Han and Leia wed. He had held his twin's hand and congratulated her on her pregnancy, and when Ben Solo was born with early signs of force-sensitivity, promised to teach him the ways of the Jedi. And others did the same; his friends settled down with partners and friends, started families and adopted orphans from every corner of the galaxy. Started a new life, and Luke watched with a feeling close to loneliness as he failed to do the same.

It wasn't that he wasn't interested; there were more than one pilot and hotshot with a blaster he had taken a fancy to over the course of the war. Luke wasn't the only one to sneak a bedfellow into his compartment after dark, but it wasn't what he wanted. He wanted something deeper, something less desperate, something more than a stolen kiss in a cupboard and fumbling hands in the dark. Luke wanted something, someone , he could hold tightly, someone to comfort him, to stand by him; someone who didn't sleep with Luke Skywalker for the rights to goading brags at sabacc tables and crowded cantinas. As if was a pawn, just another ace in an X-wing with no future and no past and no interest in living beyond the moment.

Leia tried to set him up once or twice, but Luke hadn't taken her up on it. He wasn't interested in senators or state officials, less so in their stories about the war. DIdn't they get it? Didn't they understand that all Luke wanted to do was to forget? Move on? He didn't want to be the grand hero for the rest of his days? Why couldn't anyone understand that all Luke wanted was for others to treat him like a person? Not a legend, not a hero, but just as himself?

And then, out of nowhere, he received the distress call from Tython; and everything changed in a moment. His ill-timed philosophical musings of a better life put on hold for a child calling desperately for help.

The cost had been his X-wing and Artoo, who (no doubt) would have words to share with Luke when they returned to rescue him, but it had been worth it.

Because now, he had friends.

Friends who neither knew nor cared that he was Luke Skywalker of the rebel alliance; Luke Skywalker, the man who blew up the Death Star. Luke Skywalker, the Jedi, the last Jedi in the galaxy, and Darth Vader's son. They didn't know, they didn't mind. They treated Luke as one of their own with no questions asked. To them, he was just that, Luke , and who he was to them was who he was inside. The one with an eye for mechanics, a love of flying, a fair knowledge of desert flora and fauna. He was Grogu's teacher, Scoeeri and Laele's friend. He was Varre's companion as Grogu played with her baby, A'vod and Cor's helper into the underground cave network Luke had definitely not known existed. He was the mechanic who helped Cobb Vanth with his modified speeder when it broke down the night before.

But to the Mandalorian, it was strangely unclear. What was Luke to him?

Surely a friend, Luke thought with careful consideration, trying not to be nosy and look behind him to see for himself. He was intelligent, but quiet, kind. Soft and generous with those around him, despite the thick armour about him at all times. They were friends, right? The man trusted Luke to watch his child, to teach him the ways of the Jedi. All Luke had done was meditate with the child, but so far, Grogu's father had accompanied them every morning, exiting the tent he and the child shared fully armoured with the baby in his arms. It became more difficult to focus with the Mandalorian so near (damn, his thoughts were blinding), but Luke tried. But even as he did, even as he taught the child about the bond he was forming between them, he couldn't ignore the primary strand Grogu had. Luke could feel the golden strands connecting Grogu to his father twist and fold together with time, evolving from strings to cords to bolts, impenetrable. And this man was apparently just that, not force-sensitive at all.

There was something amused in Grogu's consciousness when Luke asked the boy about it. Clearly, the baby knew something Din didn't, but he didn't pry. Whatever it was that had brought Grogu and his father together had been formed in and amongst significant loss. Grogu had told Luke about the day his father adopted him, describing the feelings of warmth and oneness he experienced whenever his father held him close. The warmth the baby exuded through the force when he spoke about his buir was blinding, and when the child asked about Luke's buir, his parents, he deflated with a brush of pain at the loss he had experienced. He didn't want to shock the child, but he told him that his parents were gone, passed on; but they had loved Luke very much.

The child sent a wave of understanding and affection, and Luke felt a small hand grip his own. Together, the baby seemed to say, his eyes wide and open. Even if you have no buir of your own, my family is yours to share.

Luke let his eyes drift shut, a smile widening as a tear slipped down his cheek. What would it be, Luke wondered, his mind struggling to face the impossible, what would it be to take what had been offered? What would it be to have a family of his own?

Luke thought of the baby's father, the warmth Luke felt whenever he considered him. He and the child were so happy together, so content to stay close, and it brought a laugh to his throat when Luke remembered when the Mandalorian tossed his child in the air for his amusement when he carved figures out of tough stalks of grass for the children to play with. More so when he and his companion were alone, but Luke didn't quite know what to think about that.

It was easier to talk when the air was still, and the world was dark, Luke decided, trying not to look too much into his and the Mandalorian's time together. He remembered asking, just that morning, in fact, if his companion could teach him the language of the Tuskens. It had been an innocent enough inquiry, stemming from nothing but good intentions. For the whole time he'd known her, Luke had been using the force to read the baseline level of Varre's thoughts and emotions to communicate with her. He still felt uneasy about it and wanted to speak freely when Grogu and her baby played together. But the Mandalorian had stuttered out something unintelligible, gesturing strangely before Luke got the message. Too far. It was just as well, he supposed he could ask Cobb. Even the basics would be better than nothing.

But there was something to be said for having an excuse to spend more time with his companion. Luke enjoyed his company; it was simple, complimentary. The Mandalorian didn't ask prying questions, didn't seem to want anything of him other than his companionship. In the soft evening light when the day's travel was done, they sat together and watched the suns set, Grogu often lulling in his father's arms. It was in these times that Luke spoke, knowing that the Mandalorian wouldn't mind. He talked about his childhood spent not far from here, his family, his sister. Spoke about how proud he was of Grogu's growth in the short time they had been together, joked about the funny expression on Laele's face when he caught Cobb staring at him.

His companion laughed a little at that. Luke felt his chest warming, the deep tones of his laugh raising a blush to Luke's cheeks. Was that all it took to make him laugh? It had been funny, Cobb's expressions were longing and soft, and it was nice to take the piss out of someone else, for a change. For so innocent a recollection, for so simple a reason, his companion had laughed; and Luke wanted nothing more than to hear him do it again.

When they hitched up their bantha's the next morning to begin, Luke couldn't help but feel an itch on the back of his neck and turned without thinking to see the Mandalorian looking right at him. Luke had never found it difficult to understand his companion's expressions even with the helmet but blushed anyway. Even the implication that the Mandalorian had been looking in his direction was enough to bring a stuttering breath to Luke's chest. The suns were bright; perhaps he didn't notice the flush that had settled across Luke's face. Or maybe he had; Luke thought with a strange lurch in his gut; the Mandalorian didn't look away but tilted his head in recognition instead.

Kriff, how was he supposed to turn away?

Luke closed his eyes and tried to steady his breathing, turning his head firmly in front of him, refusing to budge his position no matter how much he might want to.

Luckily or not, their journey across the dunes was much the same as it always was, the steps of his bantha slow and lurching, massaging and opening Luke's sit bones and hip joints in a way they hadn't ever been massaged before. A sand crawler appeared in the far north-east, and Luke jerked at the sound of A'Vor, Cobb and the Mandalorian drawing their rifles.

Luke started at the sound of Grogu protesting in the Mandalorian's saddlebag. He turned, catching his companion's eye with what he hoped to be wordless understanding, halting his bantha in his tracks to let the Mandalorian catch-up.

"Can you," the Mandalorian said softly, not wishing the others to overhear. "Can you convince the Jawas to stay away?"

Luke nodded, "If you want me to. Do you want me to take the child? You'll need both hands to use your rifle,"

"Yes," the Mandalorian said, handing Luke the squirming child. Luke sent a wave of calm to the baby and felt him settle in Luke's lap, unhappy and concerned but willing to remain quiet for the time being. Luke took a deep breath, steadying his mind before reaching out across the sand, feeling inside him a flurry of activity. He had never fully mastered the Jedi mind tricks he had seen Ben perform; they felt so invasive, so personal, to actively work against one's will to achieve his ends. Luke didn't think the Jawas would mind, and at the very least, they owed him from the last time he was on Tatooine. He felt only a twinge of guilt in redirecting them to the southwest, far away from their little caravan.

"They seem to be turning," Cobb said from ahead of them, a pair of binocs in his hands. Luke blinked his eyes open with a smile.

"Imagine that," the Mandalorian said, and Luke smiled, pleased. Cobb lowered his blaster, and the Mandalorian did the same, lowering his heavy pulse rifle to its holster on the side of his bantha.

"Can I keep the child for the morning?" Luke asked, looking down at Grogu, calming down now that his father was still. "He could use a change of scenery."

"If you'd like to," the Mandalorian said but then hesitated, fishing in his saddlebag for something. "He's fine in the satchel, but I have a head covering for him."

That was how Luke found himself fixing a canvas hat to the baby's head, laughing at its floppy brim and too wide chin strap as the baby cooed at this strange thing on his body.

"It's a hat, Grogu," Luke said, adjusting the garment so it didn't fall. "It'll keep you safe in the sun; your dad doesn't want you to get sunburnt,"

Luke understood the hesitancy; he had applied a sunblock patch every day of his life before he left Tatooine and resumed the habit now that he'd returned without a hitch. But Luke recalled the Mandalorian's hesitancy in applying on onto the child, unsure if it would irritate his skin or cause a rash. Luke had watched with affection, helping the Mandalorian drape the baby in his tunics so the beating suns would stay off the child's skin. Grogu didn't seem to mind and was fascinated with this strange fabric in front of his face.

"Keep it on, Grogu, that's it," Luke said with a laugh, settling the baby between himself and the saddle horn. "Look, I have one too!"

Grogu turned and smiled toothily at Luke's sun gear, babbling happily about everything and nothing and all of the things around.

Luke felt the Mandalorian's gaze on him for the entirety of the morning, and when Luke turned with the pretence of showing the baby where his father was, Luke flushed, a hesitant smile on his face.

continued

#dinluke #family bonding #din djarin/luke skywalker #din djarin x luke skywalker #IJADIHIM-xXxVioletSkyxXx

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xxmackenziexx · 3 years

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Chapter Three

Chapter Summary: Bucky finds reader’s wallet, and we get some more backstory on various characters. We get to the football game and we also get some more backstory on reader and Bucky’s past, and we get to meet Steve in the flesh. Bucky also gets some good news.

Warnings: Swearing, sexual tension, implied past emotional trauma, jealous Bucky, mild sexual content

Word Count: 6,736

A/N: So this chapter was a lot of fun to write, that’s why it’s so long. Hope you like it!!

He had no idea what came over him, why he was suddenly filled with the confidence to draw attention to the elephant in the room…the weird tension surrounding him and y/n.

After ending the call with Steve, he saw her there, looking down at her hands meekly, shy like a schoolgirl. That’s when he noticed she had done up her hair and even wore makeup, no longer distracted by the sight of her on her knees and giving him a glimpse of what he’s imaged and dreamed of since yesterday. She was breathtaking. Her eyes drew him in, captivating him. Her curls reached her chest, blanketing her breasts.

Emboldened, he moved to her side and taunted her. Giving her the option to continue whatever this was between them or leave. She left. She didn’t even look at him. She didn’t say a goddamn word as he watched her practically run from his room. What the fuck did I just do he thought to himself as the realization of his actions sat heavy in his chest.

Sitting on his bed no longer wet from his shower, he let the towel fall from his body. Deciding to ignore his hard on, he tried to think of what to say or do next time he saw y/n. She would be at the game, on the sidelines taking pictures as always. And he promised her dinner, noting her wallet was still missing in action. He groaned at himself. God, what a mess he made.

Knowing he had somewhere to be he begrudgingly got up and began the process of gathering his clothes and whatever else he needed. Stopping once he was fully dressed and about to walk out the door. He walked over to his sheet on the floor, to see if y/n’s intuition was indeed correct, like it usually was, and found it. Her batman wallet. Somehow hidden away within the tangled sheet. He sighed, picking it up off the floor and putting it in his back pocket to give to her later. With a final shake of his head, he grabbed his keys and made his way to his truck and drove to the football field.

Reaching your bedroom, you slammed the door shut and paced back and forth in your room. Fuming. How dare he? What was wrong with him? What was wrong with you? You were so thankful Steve called twice, breaking the trance you were both in. You groaned inwardly. Ashamed of how you must have looked to him.

You stopped pacing to sit at your desk, cursing yourself for being so caught up in fantasies of your best friend. You loved Bucky in a way most people could never understand. He was always there, there was never a day where you were apart. You’ve seen him every day for all of your life. It was more than friendship, it was companionship, and trust…complete and unwavering. It was the knowledge that he’d be there, no matter what. Always by your side. He would never choose anyone above you, and you never would either. Deep in your chest, you felt a tightening, a warmth that spread to your whole body, butterflies flapped their wings with the force of a hurricane in your stomach. With the evidence in front of you, you couldn’t run from the truth any longer. You were in love with Bucky Barnes. The boy next door. Your best friend in the whole world. With this sudden epiphany, you cried. You cried for the girl you used to be, you feared the knowledge that you’d now be more guarded in his presence. You’d never be able to let your guard down and relax like you once had. Your heart shattered into a billion shards knowing your friendship was over. It would never be the same. And it was all your fault.

You sat there for what seemed like hours, your body shaking from the intensity of your sobs. Your mind in a deep well, unable to climb out of the damp, moss-covered walls when your phone rang. Jolting you back into reality, the sharp sound made you jump. You looked at your phone and saw Bucky’s name and photo. Perfect. You cleared your throat in hopes the sadness wouldn’t come through and answered.

“Hey, where are you?” He asked loudly before you could say anything. You could hear the announcers in the background and the band playing. Oh shit. The game.

“I’m…uhh…I’m at home still. I lost track of time. Me and mom were supposed to go to the game together, but I haven’t heard from her.”

“Y/n….are you okay? You sound….sad.” He asked, having found a quieter place to talk to you.

You cleared your throat again and tried again. “Yeah…I was reading and got to a really sad part. Promise.” There. That was believable, you’d done that before. Sitting right next to him and he howled with laughter, teasing you.

He was quiet for a breath. “Okay, well the game is gonna start in about 30 minutes. Do you need me to come grab you real quick? I’m sure coach won’t mind.”

“Lemme get ahold of my mom, see what the deal is, and I’ll text you and let you know.”

“Mkay. Hurry it up though, I have a surprise for you.” He said excitedly.

The call ended and you sat there. Frozen and broken. How were you gonna do this? How could you pretend everything is okay? Remembering the time constraint, you opened your phone to see 6 texts from your mom. You must have missed the notification in the midst of your world ending.

*Hey hun…I’m running a bit late with this client. I’ll be there as soon as I can.*

*still behind. Sorry love"

*honey, let me know you’re okay, you haven’t responded*

*client just left, need to finish paperwork then I’ll be headed home*

*a gif from Bruce Almighty when he’s God and types really fast on the computer and sips his coffee*

*looks like I’ll be staying later. Boss had some discrepancies come up in a client’s books. Might have to involve the police. Hope you can find a way to the game. I love you, enjoy the game*

Well shit. You texted Bucky to say you needed a ride, after all, he said he’d be there and to be ready outside. So you ran to the bathroom to touch up your makeup, grabbed your camera and purse, and ran outside to sit on the porch steps. You texted your mom back.

*Hey mom, got lost in a good book and didn’t see your texts. Bucky is on his way to grab me, I’ll have him bring me home too. I love you, hope everything is okay at work. See you when you get home.*

You sighed, hoping the situation wasn’t too serious at work with your mom. She was an accountant which isn’t a dangerous profession, but it wasn’t out of the realm of possibility for her or her colleagues to stumble upon poorly hidden evidence of illegal activities. It’s happened before.

You heard Bucky’s truck rumbling your way and sat up, mentally preparing yourself. He pulled up and you opened the door and slid in, putting on your seat belt as he drove off again. You looked over at him, he was wearing his football jersey and jeans, not yet in his full attire.

“Sorry about being so late. My mom is having a tough time at the office and wasn’t able to get away.”

Glancing quickly at you and smiling wide at you he shrugged before turning his attention back on the road. “S' okay doll, I don’t mind.”

God, could this day get any worse? He had no idea. No idea how his smile utterly shattered you. It was beautiful. And haunting. You hated it. And loved it. And he called you doll again. It made your heart swell.

You smiled in his direction. Not saying anything else as he drove you to the game. You rested your elbow against the window, watching the world pass you by, resting your chin in your hands. Completely unaware of the small glances Bucky kept throwing your way whenever he got the chance, turning back to the road with a wide smile.

Finally arriving at the stadium, Bucky quickly got out, hugged you tightly with a rushed apology, and ran to where he was needed. Leaving you alone in the parking lot, holding the keys to his truck that he placed in your hands before jogging away. You sighed. Again. You’ve been doing that so often lately and you knew exactly why. You shook off your nerves and made your way to the side entrance of the field, waving your hand to grab the attention of the security guard to let you in. It was Blake. An older man with grey streaks in his hair and beard, wrinkles deepened around his eyes as he saw you and smiled. ��Hey y/n, you’re cutting it close today. Good to see you.” He chuckled as he hugged you with one arm. He was your favorite security guard. He was kind and wise. Having been on the police force until retirement, he stayed in decent shape despite his age, volunteering for various local and school events with his background as an officer.

“Don’t I know it.” You smiled at him as you took the camera out of your purse to adjust the setting for the shots you wanted. “My mom was gonna bring me but had an office emergency, so Bucky had to come get me last minute since my truck is still in the shop.” You explained your tardiness to him, bringing the camera to your eyes to take a few quick snapshots of the crowd and then viewing them on the small screen to see if your settings were good.

He shook his head lightly. “Sorry to hear that y/n, everything okay?”

You shrugged. “Probably. But it is what it is.” You conceded. You turned to face Blake “Would you mind if I left my bag with you while I do my thing? I lost my wallet already, but I’ve got a few things I need to keep track of in here and it might get in the way.”

“Say no more y/n. It’ll be safe with me. Just find me after the game.” Already reaching to take it from you. “Now go do our boys proud.”

Smiling, you turned to get a snapshot of him holding your purse over his shoulder before making your way to the sidelines to get some candid shots of the crowd above you in the stadium and the cheerleaders milling around in between routines. Soon the band picked up. Signaling the players were about to make their entrance through the gigantic paper banner at the end of the field. You stepped to the side and leaned down to get an upward angle for when the guys ran past you. In quick succession the announcers started naming off all the players as the band played the school song, the team was huddled together chanting loudly behind the banner before they roared in unison and ran through the paper with ease. The crowd roared and stood on their feet, cheering the team on as they ran by, you snapped shot after shot of the guys running past you. Some making faces at the camera while others ignored it completely. You caught sight of Bucky coming towards you, holding his helmet in his hand while using his fingers to do the ‘rock on’ gesture in your direction, opening his eyes wide, and sticking his tongue out in a wide smile. What a dork. You laughed at each other as he passed by. With the last of the team behind you, you turned around to grab some quick shots of the team mingling together near the coaches. You waved to Coach Davis when he caught sight of you and smiled and waved. You backed up and leaned against the bleachers to check out the plethora of photos you just took before the action started.

“Damn girl…you clean up good.”

Scanning through the pictures, your head snapped up at the sudden intrusion to your peace. It was Steve’s friend Tony.

“Seriously y/n…damn.” He grunted after his eyes looked you up at down again while biting his bottom lip.

“Awww. Thanks, Tony.” You faked an innocent demeanor. “I chose this just for you.” You preened at him as you fluttered your eyelashes at him.

His eyebrows shot up, his back straightening. “For real?” He seemed almost excited.

You dropped the act. “No, you dipshit. God.” You scoffed. He just flipped you off and turned his back to you, grinning. Leaning over to whispered something to Steve who glanced behind him to look at you before turning back to Tony and saying something. Both nodding their heads about something.

Focusing your attention back to your camera to get ready to capture Bucky on the field with a group of players from each team for the coin toss, you pushed off the bleachers and got a bit closer to the sidelines. Getting the shots you needed, the game officially began. The atmosphere charged with tension as the two rival teams began trying to outmatch each other. You busied yourself with getting the action shots, end zone dances, and the frenzied, chaotic energy all around you. Bucky was on the bench next to Steve, both covered in sweat as you walked over, making sure to stay out of the way of everyone else.

“Hey…say cheese.” You said to them as you lifted the camera to get a picture of them together.

They smiled roughly, adrenaline still clouding their mind from their time on the field. It was almost half time, the bands gathering on the edges of the field to take their place for the show. The buzzer was deafening as it signaled halftime. The players of each team gathered together on the sidelines before going to the locker rooms to go over how they wanted the second half to pan out. You loved the halftime shows, they were so well thought out and orchestrated. Every person having to execute their task perfectly for the whole thing to come to fruition. It was beautiful. You wished you had the chance to sit in the stands to watch it more often instead of trying to get the perfect shot.

Before you knew it, the bands had cleared the field, being replaced by the players of each team, in position to begin the onslaught again. When the whistle blew there was a moment so silent you could hear a pin drop before everything around you erupted into chaos. You heard coaches yelling at players, the cheerleaders doing their routine to get the crowd fired up, announcers reverberating the plays on the field through the loudspeakers, eager parents, and spectators cheering on their players, the unmistakable sound of helmets and shoulder pads clashing. Second half was always easier for you to enjoy as you had a decent amount of pictures you could submit but you still stayed poised and ready to catch something if needed. You paced the sidelines, watching everything unfold. You saw Steve had the ball and was running to the end zone. Bucky running beside him to make a clear path, shoving his way through two players before veering the left to block someone charging towards Steve. He was almost there, if he made this you guys would have the game in the bag, knowing the opposing team couldn’t catch up to our lead in the small amount of time left. You were jogging with them on the sidelines.

“C'MON ROGERS…PICK UP THE DAMN PACE!!!”

He stole a quick glance your way as you clapped your hands to drive your point home, still keeping pace with him. Bucky running shortly behind, catching up after dominating the player that tried to make a move on Steve.

“ATTA BOY ROGERS. BRING IT HOME BABY. C'MON!!!

And he made it. Arms wide open as he reached the end zone. Cheers erupting all around him as the buzzer went off, signaling we won.

"YEAH!!! THAT’S HOW WE DO IT!!! You screamed. Arms held up high as you ran to Steve to congratulate him, now close enough the two of you high fived with your hands above your head, slapping your hands together before he leaned down to wrap his arms around you, under your backside to cart you around above him around the endzone, your stomach near his head. You laughed and cheered and worked the crowd as the rest of the team made their way over, Steve hollering the whole time. Sliding you back down Steve looked at you, with his lips caught in a smile that went from ear to ear, breathing heavily from the combination of running hard, screaming and hollering, and carrying you around. You look up into his blue eyes, sweat making his blonde hair look darker as it clung to his forehead, and smiled. The rest of the team circled you, jumping up and down, their victory cries deafening.

You laughed and leaned into Steve so he could hear you better though you still had to raise your voice. "Nice job Steve!!!” He smiled wide down at you before hugging you and turning to the rest of his team, throwing his arms into the air in a victory pose. And then arms wrapped around your waist from behind, lifting you off the ground, your body being jostled up and down against your captor's chest as they roared victory cries around you. It was Bucky. Of course, it was. You smiled and yelled for him to put you down, turning to look at him and giving him a proper hug as best you could with his shoulder pads still on.

“Nice tackle there at the end.” You said close to his ear while still wrapped in a hug. Pulling away you feigned annoyance “Although…you did promise me you’d let Steve get tackled.” Your voice raising a few octaves for effect.

Bucky rolled his head back to laugh, clutching his abdomen in fervor. Coming back down for air he saw you with your hands on your hips, a mock look of disappointment on your face. “ACTUALLY…I said I’d do my best. So….ouch. You’re… wrong y/n. I don’t think that’s ever happened. I’m not sure what to do with this revelation.” He corrected you, his fingers stroking his chin as if in thought.

You were gobsmacked. He WAS right. That was definitely new. You stared at him with your mouth open in shock.

He laughed at you again. “You better close that mouth of yours before someone gets the wrong idea.” You snapped your jaw shut with an audible snap of your teeth, blush creeping over your cheeks, only for him to double over again in laughter at your reaction.

“I gotta go change and talk to the coaches, go sit on the sideline bench, I’ll meet you there when I can leave. I still have to give you your surprise.” He said as the team began walking together off the field, finally calming down to a dull road.

You snapped a few more pictures, cheerleaders hugging a few players as they made their way to the locker room, two kids playing on the now mostly empty field, parents in the stands wearing their child’s numbers. You had done enough, so you made your way over to Blake to collect your purse and to thank him. He said it was no problem and told you to stay safe. Sitting on the cold bench you were thankful that the game was fairly normal. You didn’t act any weirder than usual, and neither did Bucky. Well…except for the joke he made about your mouth being open. But that didn’t mean anything, right? Your chest was filled with pride as you recounted the game today, how well the team did, especially Steve and Bucky. Bucky had the most tackles today, like usual. He was the driving force in the victories we won. The school district would surely miss him when we graduated. Lost in thought you didn’t hear Steve come up next to you until he sat down next to you. You jumped and clutched your chest, willing your heart to stay there and not end up in your throat.

“Jesus Steve! Give a girl some warning. Damn dude.”

He laughed. “Sorry, I thought you heard me.”

“Obviously not. Hey, good job again today. Ya done good kid!” You congratulated him in a bad version of a 20’s radio host voice as you play punched his shoulder.

Grabbing his shoulder, he flailed onto the benching mock pain. Making you laugh. “Thanks, I saw you on the sidelines by the way. It helped. So…thanks.” He confessed, now sitting back up.

“No problem, glad I was there to see that touchdown.”

You sat in silence for a beat before Steve spoke up again. “Oh. Bucky paid me today before he left to go get you. So, you can choose the weapons bundle you want now. My treat.” He touched his shoulder softly to yours.

You had completely forgotten about the bet. A lot has happened since then.

“You gonna be on later tonight?” You asked. He was on your friends list for Warzone so you would see if he was online, but you figured you’d ask anyway.

“Yeah…probably. You?”

You didn’t know what Bucky had planned for this surprise, but he did say he’d buy you dinner if you couldn’t find your wallet. Which you hadn’t, so you knew at least you’d be getting food with Bucky soon.

“Probably, not sure when exactly though. Bucky and me and gonna grab some food later and he has some surprise for me. I dunno what it is and I’m a little scared to find out, to be honest.” You chuckled.

He nodded. Not replying right away. “Hey…speaking of Barnes…what’s what’s deal with you two?”

You gave him a confused look.

“What do you mean?”

He shifted uncomfortably on the bench. “Well…you two are super close. And like always together. I know y'all are friends and have the same birthday and stuff but like…is there anything going in between you?”

You didn’t know how to respond. He kinda hit the nail in the head with that one. You sighed. Knowing you had to answer. “No Steve. We aren’t together…like that. We’re just best friends. We’ve literally known each other since birth, we grew up together and lived right next to each other all our lives. We just have a special bond. That’s all.” You shrugged at the end.

He was silent as he contemplated your response. “So…like…you aren’t seeing anyone?”

You scoffed. “No…I’m not. Not right now at least.”

“You wan-”

His next words were interrupted as Bucky finally made his entrance. “Hey y/n!! Ready to head out?” He was breathing heavily like he had been running.

You looked up at him and nodded. “I’ll catch ya later Steve, I’ll text you if I’m able to get on tonight.” You stood and said goodbye, heading to Bucky’s truck, handing him his keys.

“What the hell took you so long Buck?” You asked as you climbed into the cab, buckling in as he started the truck.

“Coach wanted to talk to me about some scouts coming to a few games this season. Said I had a good shot of getting picked.” He explained as he put the car in reverse, looking to make sure the coast was clear, before driving out of the parking lot.

You looked at him, openly staring with your mother open and smiling. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

He looked your way, jutting his jaw out, biting his lip, and nodding. The image of a man exuding confidence and swagger. He was excited, you could tell.

“Oh my god, Buck that’s amazing.” You bounced in your seat. “I’m so happy for you. Oh, my fucking God. This is…that’s amazing. OH MY GOD!!!!” You were at a loss for words. You were so happy for Bucky and so proud of him. He’s worked hard to become the player he is today, and he deserves this. More than anyone you know.

He laughed at your happy little freakout. Going into more detail about what scouts will be at what game and things he needs to do before then, he finally pulled into the parking lot of your favorite place to eat. Penny’s Diner. It was a retro diner that was the epitome of the 50’s Era. They had the neon lights, the pictures of all the singers and movie stars, the music they played over the speakers. It was your home away from home. And Bucky’s too.

Settling in a booth, you sat across from each other. He ordered his usual Mushroom Swiss burger and you the Monterey Chicken, without mushrooms. And you both decided a milkshake was in order to celebrate the team's win and also Bucky’s personal victory of getting noticed for his athleticism on the field.

Excited to tell y/n what Coach Davis shared with him, Bucky was eager to find her. Jogging his way to where he knew she’d be, but he slowed when he saw y/n and Steve on the bench together, the stadiums empty and only a few people still lingering around. Steve leaned over to knock shoulders with her, and she smiled and Bucky could faintly hear her ask Steve if he was going to get online tonight to play Warzone. He was silent as he watched their interaction from a short distance. Not enjoying the feelings seeing her with Steve conjured within him, seeing her happy and relaxed did make him smile though.

That was until Steve’s line of questioning brought their friendship into question. Steve asked what everyone always asked, everyone was so curious why y/n and Bucky were always so close, everyone assumed they were hiding the fact they were dating. Which they weren’t. He saw y/n sigh and heard her explain their friendship…that it was a special bond. She was right of course, he couldn’t imagine his life without her.

Then Steve asked if she was seeing anyone and Bucky saw red, his pulse raced, and he found his fists clenched at his side. He knew where this was headed, and he couldn’t stand to let it happen. So, he made his way towards them quickly, purposefully interrupting Steve mid-sentence, hoping he wouldn’t have the courage to begin again later.

After telling y/n his big news finally, she was over the moon. She couldn’t sit still in her seat and her eyes shone with pride each time she looked at him. It made his heart swell, she really was such a great friend. She wasn’t jealous of his accomplishments, she never once said he didn’t deserve the praise he was receiving, she encouraged him and supported him constantly, in all of his endeavors. They really did have a special bond. His mind conjured images of his future given the news he reviewed, he imagined getting accepted into college with a full-ride scholarship for football, graduating with y/n, his first game at college. He smiled inwardly as he saw his life laid out in front of him, knowing y/n would be there every step of the way.

After ordering at the diner, Bucky decided he’d wait until after he paid to give y/n her wallet, waiting in comfortable silence. That’s one thing he appreciated about y/n and their friendship, he didn’t have to talk constantly to fill the empty air. They could still enjoy each other’s company without having to voice every thought popping up in his head. Which at the present moment, the interaction between Steve and y/n kept replaying in his mind. He couldn’t stop thinking about it. It irked him seeing the way Steve’s eyes lingered on her face, softly smiling each time she spoke, seeing the way he shifted about next to her. Steve was nervous around her. He liked her…a lot. Bucky has known Steve for a while now, being on the football team together for three years, he’s gotten to know the ins and outs of Steve’s thought process, what made him tick, when his machismo was genuine or not. Bucky knew Steve felt something for you, something that appeared more than the casual and short-lived infatuation of people their age. And it pissed him off.

Y/n had had a few boyfriends in the past, she wasn’t unaware of how relationships worked. Bucky always made sure to have a good long chat with each one, explaining that if they ever hurt her, they’d have him to answer to. Only one ever really hurt her. Thinking back on their sophomore year, he remembered when she let herself into his house and literally sprinted up the stairs, taking them two at a time and barging into his room at 11 o'clock one night, he was in bed and had just fallen asleep when his door crashed open and she ran to his bed and laid down, tears streaming down her face. He was scared, not knowing what had happened, but when he asked, all she did was shake her head and lay down with her head on his chest and sobbed heavily. And he let her, wrapping his arms around her, and resting his cheek on the top of her head. She scared the shit out of his parents, they came running into his room to see what all the fuss was about, stopping when they saw how upset y/n was. His mom and dad loved y/n like she was their own, they stood at the door and sadly smiled after he and his parents exchanged glances having a silent conversation and agreeing to talk about it later. After about 45 minutes she fell asleep, having finally stopped crying and her body exhausted.

He crawled out of his bed and made his way downstairs to find his folks, they stayed up to make sure everything was okay. He found them at the kitchen table speaking in hushed tones. Bucky cleared his throat to announce his presence and their heads whipped towards him. His mom standing to cup his cheek with her palm, her thumb caressing under his eyes. “How is she?” She asked, truly concerned for y/n.

He sighed. “She’s finally asleep. I’m not entirely sure what happened but I have an idea, her and Richard have been on the outs the past couple of weeks.” He explained. His parents exchanging a knowing look. “I-I know it's late, but can she just stay the night? I’ll set my alarm early so she can still get ready for school and stuff. I’ll have her ride with me. Could you call Shelby and ask? I’m not even sure she knows that y/n is here.”

Nodding. “Yeah baby, I’ll call her mom and let her know. I’m sure she won’t mind.” Bringing him close for a tight hug, he wrapped his arms around her and rested his head in the crook of her neck, his shoulders sagged in sadness for his friend.

Turns out her and Richard broke up. They had been together since just before Freshman year and things ended halfway into Sophomore year, so it was pretty serious. Bucky had never had a relationship that long, so he felt for y/n, he really did. He did his best to comfort her, but she wouldn’t let him go beat the shit out of Richard. She wouldn’t admit it, but the breakup changed her. She was more angry. She never used to get so angry so quickly. It took him a long time to see her smile again and get his friend back.

Now that he did, the thought of Steve fucking everything up again enraged him. Steve always had some girl on his arm, one never lasting very long. Steve was his friend, but they were still worlds apart. He wasn’t a dick necessarily, wasn’t the type of person to intentionally hurt someone, but it happened from time to time. And the notion of him hurting y/n, whether intentional or not infuriated him, made his blood boil and jaw tense.

The food finally made its way in front of them, jarring him out of his fog, she smiled up and at with wide eyes, rubbing her hands together excitedly. Digging into their food they hummed happy food noises at how good everything tasted, despite having eaten the same food for years. Still not saying much but the occasional small talk they finally finished their food, now ready for their milkshakes. Bucky got a chocolate cherry shake and y/n chose a new flavor to the diner, key lime pie.

“Ohh…I’m so excited, it’s been a while since they’ve made a new flavor.” She said bouncing slightly on her seat. He laughed at her. Ever since he tried the chocolate cherry shake in 5th grade, he was hooked, never getting anything else. The waiter brought their shakes to them and placed the check face down on the table. Bucky took a few slow sips of his shake while y/n admired hers. She spun it around, looking at the mixture in awe as there were actual pie crust pieces scattered within the thick mixture. She was smiling and she leaned down to continue her assessment. He watched her closely, loving the sparkle in her eyes over something so mundane.

“It’s gonna melt before you can even taste it y/n. Drink the damn milkshake.” He chuckled at her, still sipping on his dessert.

Sitting up and rolling her shoulders like she was getting ready for something amazing, she took the straw in her fingers and placed her dark red lipstick over the straw, and sucked. And the image hit him like a truck, he couldn’t control the visions of her lips around something far less innocent flash across his eyes. And when her eyes opened wide in surprise, looking up at him and swallowing before licking her lips and speaking to him he had to remember where he was and who he was with before he did something he’d regret.

“Oh..my…God Bucky.” She groaned and it made the muscles in his stomach clench. “This is so good. Oh my god. You have to try this.” As she took several more sips before shoving the drink in his direction.

He tried to protest but she wasn’t having it. “No, you have to try it. Just try it. Please please please?” She begged, clasping her hands together and holding them against her chest and bouncing up and down.

He had to clear his throat before speaking. “Fine. I’ll try it.” She slid the drink closer to him, her hand still holding it as she lifted it up to his lips. He placed his hand over hers to stabilize the drink before looking down and seeing her lipstick still on the straw. Wanting his lips to be somewhere where hers were, he quickly took a sip while looking up at her, seeing how excited she was for him to try it. It was okay. Not his favorite and he probably wouldn’t take another sip if it weren’t for y/n’s lipstick there, enticing him to place his lips on the straw again.

“It’s good, isn’t it?” She asked eagerly.

Taking a final sip, his lips lingering a second longer before giving the drink back to her, he nodded his head. “Yeah…it’s okay.”

She put her hands on the table, palms down with force, looking at him like he offended her. “Okay? JUST okay?!?! Are you insane? Have you lost the ability to taste properly? What’s wrong with you?…Just okay.” She scoffed. “Bucky…this is the best-tasting thing I’ve ever put in my mouth. It’s life changing. It’s better than your dumb chocolate cherry bullshit. This is better than then the best orgasm on earth. You shut your blasphemous mouth with 'okay.’ God Buck…I’m disappointed in you.” She crossed her arms under her breasts and leaned back in the booth, judging him.

There were so many things she said just now that took his imagination by storm. He was speechless. Even if he knew what to say, he couldn’t, his voice alone would give away the current predicament in his jeans. So, he just smiled at her teasingly, bringing his own drink back to his lips. She fussed at him again before they both fell into another comfortable silence until they finished their drinks. Noting it was safe for him to stand, he grabbed the check to pay while y/n went to the restroom. He waited by the door for her and then they climbed back into the cab of his truck.

He had started the engine but hadn’t made any move to pull out of the lot. Y/n looked at him questioningly. “What’s up, Buck?”

“Well…. remember when I said I had a surprise for you?”

She nodded. “Yeah?”

“Close your eyes and hold out your hands.” He instructed, grinning wide.

She rolled her eyes at him. But said nothing as she did as she was told. With her eyes closed, he could appreciate her form better, not having to worry about her catching his eyes roaming her body. She was dazzling. He was left breathless as he studied her face, seeing her long lashes against her cheeks, the soft edges of her face glow against the dashboard lights in the dark, the way her lips smiled over her teeth in anticipation. A warmth spread in his chest, slowly reaching his shoulders, and engulfing his entire body.

Interrupting his admiration. “Buck?”

“Hold on.” Giving her face a final once over before reaching into his back pocket, he placed her batman wallet into her open palms, leaning his back towards to door and spread his legs so his knee was bent comfortably in the seat, he rested his arm on the window, his steepled fingers holding his head up.

She wrapped her fingers around the edges before opening her eyes. She gasped in surprise and looked at him with wide eyes.

“Oh my God, Bucky!! Thank you!!” She praised as she clutched her wallet to her chest. “Where was it?”

He contemplated telling her the truth, not wanting to ruin the moment by bringing up the incident from the other day.

“It was in my truck. I found it in the side panel when I went to that side to grab my gear for the game.” He lied. “Must’ve fallen there when we went to Sonic before we started the match with Steve and Tony.” He shrugged nonchalantly.

She quickly lifted the middle compartment and shifted on her knees until she reached Bucky and wrapped her arms around his neck, practically laying on him between his legs. She rested her cheek against his shoulder as he wrapped his arms tightly around her. They stayed like that for what seemed like forever, both of them unwilling to move. He was happy, content with her in his arms like this, her body pressed tightly against his. I could stay like this forever he thought to himself. He nuzzled her with his cheek, smiling wide as she giggled, still not moving away from him.

“Thank you, Bucky. Really.” She said softly.

He took one hand to caress the back of her head and neck, his thumb idly massaging her while his other hand wrapped around to her lower back, lightly scratching as his fingers bent back and forth. “You’re welcome doll.” He took a deep breath before letting it out slowly, still caressing her. “I’m just glad I found it so you don’t have to deal with all that bullshit.”

She laughed as she leaned back to look at him, her hands resting on his chest, her eyes searching his. “Yeah.” She leaned in closer to him, he swore she was leaning in for a kiss and the thought excited him. His heart was beating a million miles a minute, he knew she could feel it. She bent down and placed a chaste kiss on his cheek before finding her place back in his arms. He would say he was disappointed, but he wasn’t. He smiled as he laid his cheek against the top of her head hugging her tightly again.

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#Bucky Barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #a/u bucky x reader #bucky x reader #teenager bucky x teenager reader #teen bucky and reader #teen steve rogers #teenager steve rogers x reader #teen steve rogers and reader #james buchanan barnes #slow burn #mutual pining #a/u steve rogers x reader #a/u #marvel

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shadows-and-flowercrowns · 4 years

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Equals

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AN: I haven’t really proof read this. Its just.. I’ve had this idea floating around my head so I decided to put the metaphorical pen to paper to get it out. This is just a one shot of why Elriel makes sense to me 🤷‍♀️ I’m also posting this on mobile so please forgive me for any formatting issues and what not.

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Elain watched in silence as Azriel faded into shadows, the voices around them growing more raucous by the second.

He had been doing it more lately.

Or, perhaps she was only now able to see it.

It was hard to tell.

She loosed a long breath as she looked around the table.

No one else seemed to have noticed. They were all focused on Feyre as she regaled the inner circle and their guests with the story of how she had found out Rhys was her mate.

Elain couldn't stop the amused grin that spread across her face as she watched Kallias and Viviane laugh at Feyre's tale. Her eyes flicked towards Azriel once again and her grin quickly faded.

"Az." She whispered.

The darkness disappeared in an instant, his anxious eyes darting around the room, searching for a threat, before they finally fixed on her.

Elain gave him a slight smile and he dipped his head, eyes softening.

Though she turned her eyes away from him, pain tugged at her chest at that momentary flash of panic that had consumed him. She understood that feeling all too well.

Everyone had thought that Elain had mastered her visions years ago, before the final battles of the war, but the truth was that she had only really started gaining full control over the last several weeks.

True, it had been years since the visions had held her in their grasp, fully consuming her to the point that her eyes glazed over and she couldn't differentiate the present from the future when she spoke but that didn't mean they hadn't continued to plague her.

For years she had felt them tickle at the edges of her mind as the fog and whispers fought to take center stage. It had been a constant effort to push them aside.

No one had known, save Azriel, that she had struggled.

"Listen," Feyre exclaimed, "I was absolutely pissed at you for not telling me but I also didn't understand how it could be true!"

"It's important to remember," Rhys drawled to Kallias in a stage whisper, "that the Feyre we know and love today wasn't who I was dealing with then. She had thought she wasn't my equal."

"Oh, please!" Vivianne said between laughter.

"I was still newly made." Feyre shrugged, a genuine smile plastered on her face. "I didn't know the extent of my powers."

"Well, your story is sweet but Viv should tell their story." Mor interjected with a waggle of her eyebrows.

Elain stood up quickly as a flush spread across her neck. She had heard this story once before and had no desire to hear it again.

"Dessert!" She exclaimed, "I just remembered, I have dessert in the kitchen. I'll be right back."

Once she was in the safety of the kitchen, she braced her hands on the counter as she let her head fall forward. A dark chuckle sounded from the doorframe.

Elain whipped around to see Azriel standing there, arms crossed over his chest. The blue siphons on his hands glinted in the fae light.

"I figured you could use a hand." He said, pushing himself off the door frame and coming to her side to help prepare the tray.

"A coinvent excuse." She muttered but grinned up at him none the less.

They worked in silence. Elain chewed on her lip as she tried to make the mess of feelings clanging around in her head into something more solid. Setting down the knife she had been using to slice the tiered cake, she turned to look at her friend.

"Thank you."

He let out a huff. "I am happy to help but, trust me, I feel you're doing me a favor. I really don't need to hear about the exact look on Kallias' face when the bond snapped in place for them. Again."

His wings ruffled slightly in agitation.

"No, not for that. Thank you for being there for me."

Azriel set down the plates he had been laying out to turn to look at her. Now that his full gaze was on her, Elain felt heat blossom on her cheeks.

"It's just, with Feyre describing her conversation with the Suriel, it got me thinking."

She paused, struggling to find the words as Azriel continued to look at her, giving her the time to formulate her thoughts.

"Feyre is Rhysand's equal even though their powers aren't the same. I don't know what it's like to be a shadowsinger but you the only person who has ever understood me, my powers. You see me. This may be silly but I hope that you know that I am here for you as well."

He opened his mouth before shutting it, brows furrowing as his head cocked to the side.

"Forget I said anything," she muttered, turning back to the cake.

She tried to cause a distraction for the both of them, clattering the plates and utensils about. She was making more noise than needed but Elain was keenly aware that Azriel hadn't turned back to resume his work and she could feel the weight of his stare.

The flush was spreading now, down her throat and onto her chest. Elain moved faster, finishing in record time.

With a sigh, she prepared herself to turn and face her friend but Azriel grabbed the tray and disappeared into shadow.

Elain began to gnaw on her bottom lip once more.

She shouldn't have said anything.

Elain returned to the dining room, not even the slightest bit surprised to learn that Azriel had excused himself for the rest of the evening moments before she had arrived.

She had expected it but the knowledge had still left her feeling a little empty inside. She moved to the side of the room to sit alone for some time, quietly observing the group as she thought of dynamic of her relationship with Azriel.

Elain valued his companionship beyond all the others. She thought of that first day in the garden, the first time he had mentioned that he didn't always feel like he belonged. He had been trying to make her feel better, to let her know that she wasn't alone in her isolation. In some weird way it had helped her, knowing that someone who had been with this group for so long still felt alone at times. But even in the haze, Elain had wanted to make his hurt go away.

At the beginning, when she was still so lost to her visions and could barely speak, she gave him some of her favorite flowers that she had grown. As time passed and she gained control, Elain had become more vocal in expressing how much she valued him in her life but there were still moments like this evening when he would try to push her away.

Making up her mind, Elain excused herself from the rest of the group.

She quietly walked up the steps, barely even noticing the tickle in her head of an impending vision. She passed her bedroom and continued down the hallway until she stood in front of Azriel's door.

With a shaking hand, she prepared to knock but the door opened before her hand made contact with the wood. Elain didn't bother waiting as she immediately stepped forward to cross over the threshold into Azriel's room.

She was plunged into complete darkness once the door shut behind her.

"Azriel?" She whispered tentatively.

She heard rustling from behind her and then a hand touched hers. She flinched in surprise at the contact and Azriel withdrew. Elain practically lunged in his direction, gripping tight to his arm.

"Please don't hide from me."

She felt his body relax and a moment later the shadows withdrew.

They stood in the center of his room, her refusing to let go of him.

Elain saw his eyebrows raise ever so slightly as she pulled him along so they could sit at the foot of his bed.

She slid her hands down, adjusting her grip so she held one of his massive hands between her own, cradling it in her lap.

The two sat in silence. After a moment, she moved to rest her head against his shoulder.

"You should be down with the others." He said quietly, his body remaining still and unrelenting as stone beneath her.

"They will be fine without me."

Azriel pulled away, disentangling himself from her. He stood up and walked across the room, bracing both hands against the dresser in the corner.

"So will I."

Elain had once heard Rhys compare Cassian to fire and Azriel to ice. She felt the shudder pass over her at his words but pushed on. "Let me rephrase that then: I would rather be with you."

He turned to look at her, the unfeeling mask cracking for just a moment to reveal the desperation beneath. "You can't say things like that. You can't say that the story with the Suriel reminds you of me."

"What do you mean? Azriel, you have been the best thing that has happened to me since I moved to Velaris."

He crossed his arms across his chest and he looked for all the world like he was preparing to fight her down on her own feelings.

She shook her head.

"It's like I said earlier - you are the only person who understands me."

"But that is the thing, Elain. You don’t understand me. Do you know what it means to be a shadowsinger?"

She tentatively nodded. "As much as you know what its like to be a seer."

"I torture people," he retorted. "You do not. That is the difference between you and I. We will never understand one another."

He turned his back on her once again, signaling quite clearly that the conversation was over but Elain refused to be dismissed so easily.

"Why?" Elain asked, voice hard.

"'Why' what?" He murmured.

"Why do you torture people?"

She gave him a moment but he kept his back towards her and she let out a long sigh.

"It is to protect us." Elain said in a voice barely above a whisper. "Everything you do, it is to protect us and for that, and for so many other reasons, I am happy you are in my life."

She watched as his shoulders sagged.

"You don't know what you are saying. If you truly knew, you wouldn't want me in your life."

She saw him shake his head but still, he didn't turn to look at her.

"I know why the Cauldron blessed me."

Azriel turned to look at her then, surprise coloring his features. She had always flatly refused to talk about her time in the Cauldron, even to Nesta.

"It told me. The Cauldron said that it felt sorry for me. Do you have any idea what it is like to have the Cauldron, the object that created the universe, look at all that you are and pity your very existence? It saw every moment I had lived and knew every thought I ever had. It saw all of me and came back with nothing more than a naïve girl that deserved to be pitied. It gave me this new life so I could try again.

"When I was human, I spent so much of my life agonizing over the future. Would my father recover from his injuries? Was Feyre dead? Would Nesta ever marry a man who could keep her safe? The Cauldron made me a seer so I would no longer have to guess. It made sure I would know but I have found that knowledge is a curse. Do you know how many times I have seen you all die?"

She saw a muscle in his jaw flicker.

"I learned quickly that I can't help everyone, Azriel. I get to watch as my choices, my actions and inactions, hurt others. This weight is on my shoulders and I accept it so long as I can use it to keep you all safe."

Azriel opened his mouth but Elain plunged on.

"And then there is Lucien.”

Azriel’s eyes widened at this. They had never really talked about this. He had stood by her side when she announced her decision to break the bond, even stepping between her and Feyre when her sister urged her to ‘think it over’. But never had the two of them discussed why.

“When I was human, I loved a man who was wicked. I was blinded by his sweet words and noble title. The Cauldron knew he would never love me once I was made so it gave me Lucien. A male who would have not one but two claims to a throne. A good male of noble lineage who would one day allow me to be higher socially than I had ever imagined. A male who would love me beyond my wildest dreams, who would care for me and give me a life I couldn’t even begin to fathom. Being mated to him would allow me, simple Elain, to have a purpose and bridge the gap between Spring and Night. It would have allowed us to make an alliance that would be so strong that it would ensure peace amongst the courts even after we are all nothing more than dust."

She let out a small, humorless laugh.

"But you and I both know how that worked out. Turns out, I didn't actually want Lucien. I know how Feyre feels on the matter, even if she would never say it to my face now that the bond is broken. I know that everyone thinks I made a rash decision and that I didn't give him a chance."

She shook her head in sadness and frustration. "I knew exactly what I gave up when I rejected the bond. I don't want that life."

Azriel pushed himself off the dresser, moving purposefully towards her. Elain watched every movement with bated breath until he stopped before her.

"So what do you want now, Elain?"

Her eyes went hazy for a moment. When they cleared, she gave him a blinding smile at the future ahead.

"An equal."

#elriel #azriel x elain #elain x azriel #azriel #acotar #elain archeron #acowar #acofas #acomaf #acotar fic #elain and azriel #azriel and elain

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the-cult-of-russo · 3 years

Text

Push and Pull (part 7)

Pairing: Matt Murdock x OC

Warnings: cursing.

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Later that day, Daphne was trying to distract herself from her jumbled thoughts. Between Matt and whatever the Italians were planning, she just wanted to chill. She had Breaking Bad on her laptop as she leisurely lay on the couch in sweatpants and a t-shirt. It would be dinner time soon and she was considering ordering take out so she didn't have to cook. She was pretty sure she didn't have much in anyway. Halfway through an episode, there was a knock at her door. She groaned as she stood, stretching her arms over her head until her back made a satisfying pop. Glancing out the peephole, she saw Foggy standing there. She groaned again before swinging the door open.

"Daphne!" He grinned like he was surprised to see her in her own home despite him clearly coming here to see her. Her eyes drifted to his right hand which was holding a plastic bag.

"Can I help you, Foggy?" She asked patiently.

"I was just… you know… in the neighbourhood and figured I'd swing by… with burgers," he flashed her a toothy smile and she folded her arms over her chest.

"Did Matt send you?" She asked suspiciously. She really hoped not, she wanted him to believe she was a grade A bitch and leave her alone.

"No, I just wanted to talk. But maybe when I did mention the possibility of me dropping in, Matt maybe seemed semi interested which may have made me more determined," he said vaguely.

Foggy was almost as tiring as Matt but in a different way. She waved her hand to signal he could come in as she padded back over to the couch. He came in seeming more relaxed than the last time he was here and plonked himself down with ease into the armchair.

"Look, I just wanna say that I'm sorry about Matt’s attitude," he started. She held a hand up right away to stop him.

"Stop. Don't apologise on his behalf when you've not done anything wrong. That's shit and means nothing. It's not your job to be apologising for him… besides, I haven't exactly been great either," she admitted reluctantly. He gave a tentative smile and nodded as he took out a burger from the bag. She took it with a grateful smile and started munching on it since she was so hungry.

"I get it. I mean kind of. Matt's weird with you, obviously I'm his best friend so he's much nicer to me. He can still be an asshole at times though. But seeing you guys at the office was really something. Your personalities are a lot alike, I think," he mused as he bit into his own burger. Her jaw dropped, offence coloured her features.

"I'm nothing like him!" She argued with a scoff. He chuckled and gave her a lopsided grin.

"Mhm… sure. Either way, as much of an ass he can be, he's trying okay? Maybe… maybe you could also try a little harder to be nice," he suggested gently. She wanted to throw her burger at him but he wasn't completely wrong. She hadn't been making it easy but it was simply because she didn't like how she felt when she was around him.

"Can't make any promises," she retorted vaguely as she took another bite. Foggy just nodded, seeming to realise that was the best he would get from her.

"I do wanna say thanks though. For helping him when he really needed it. It means a lot to me that he has someone other than me who he can count on," he murmured softly. She glanced at him at the sincerity in his tone as she finished off her burger.

"Can I ask you a personal question?" She asked curiously.

"Only if I can ask one after," he bargained with a cheeky grin. She fully expected it though and nodded. It was only Foggy after all. She doubted it would be anything too crazy.

"Great, then shoot," he said confidently.

"Do you ever just get sick of it? Being friends with the Devil of Hell's Kitchen? I mean if he goes down, you go down too. And not to mention the constant worry of him getting hurt or winding up dead," she said carefully. She remembered the tension between the friends at the office earlier. She wondered if they'd argued about Matt getting shot.

Foggy looked conflicted for a second as he shifted in his seat. After a moment, he levelled a steady gaze at her.

"Matts like a brother to me. Sometimes I wish it was different. I didn't even find out about his secret until not too long ago. Sometimes I wished it was easy like it was back then. But it's not. And as hard headed as he is and as much as I worry, he's a good man. He wants to help people and make a real difference. So if I have to stress out about him getting hurt then it's the least I can do. He saves lives out there, more than the cops do. He genuinely makes a difference and I believe in what he does," he didn't falter in his speech and she found a pang of envy at how much Foggy seemed to care for Matt. There was such a strong loyalty there.

She just nodded, accepting his words. There wasn't really a follow up to it; she was just curious about it. She guessed they could argue about Matt's safety until the world stopped rotating, but in the end Matt would always be Daredevil and Foggy would always back him up.

"What about you? Do you have any family or friends?" It was a simple question that he'd chosen but it made her uneasy nonetheless. She blew out a sigh and leaned back more on the couch.

"I've got family. My parents and an older sister and brother. My parents live in Hawaii now and my brother is a fancy brain surgeon. My sister Lisa lives in the suburbs. Two kids and a husband, living the housewife life," she snorted softly.

"Are you close to them?" He prompted curiously. She shook her head softly.

"Not super close I guess. I'd always been the odd one out growing up. Liked to use my fists, got in trouble a lot. Not really what my parents wanted from me and I didn't exactly live up to the reputation of my brother and sister. I'm closest to Lisa out of all of them but… we live very different lives. I don't get to see her or the kids too much," she admitted softly. Honestly it made her sad to think about. She'd never been super close with her parents or brother but Lisa always tried. Tried to be there and to understand her no matter how vastly different they were. She hadn't seen her niece and nephew in almost 6 months which felt like a lifetime.

"What about friends?" Foggy asked cautiously. The pair were well aware this was more than the one personal question they'd agreed on but she allowed it anyway since it was connected.

"Does Brett count?" She snorted sheepishly. Foggy barked a laugh at her answer and shook his head.

"Oh no. That's so sad," he laughed. She found herself chuckling with him despite the fact he was right.

"In case you haven't noticed, I'm a bit abrasive. Not the best way to make friends," she smirked. He just shook his head ruefully.

"Well we need to work on your people skills. But for what it's worth, you've got a friend in Foggy Nelson," he grinned at her. She smiled and lowered her head.

"I don't know, Foggy. You're way too cheerful to be tainted by my darkness," she teased. He tossed his burger wrapper at her but she caught it.

"Now see, that just means we balance each other out well. I mean, you have seen who I'm best friends with, right?" He smirked. He wasn't exactly wrong.

"Can't argue with that," she snorted.

She found she didn't mind Foggy's company as much as she thought she would. He wasn't confusing and he was easy to be around. And she didn't have the urge to be a complete bitch to him like she did with most people.

"Alright, I need to head back to the firm. We’re working late tonight on a case," he said as he stood. She followed suit and walked him to the door.

"Thanks for stopping by and for the food," she murmured gratefully. She meant it too. He gave her a bright grin and nodded.

"Anytime. Thanks for letting me in and saving my best friend," he chortled. Rolling her eyes good naturedly, she pointed to the hallway. He laughed as he stepped outside.

"Hope to see you soon, Daphne," he smiled before disappearing down the hallway.

She blew out a breath before walking back to her trusty couch and flopping onto it. Foggy seemed like a good friend and he wanted to be friends with her. She found herself naturally trusting him and it didn't even bother her. The only issue was who he was best friends with. How could she be friends with Foggy and avoid Matt? It wasn't practical. But she enjoyed having someone to talk to like Foggy and the feeling of companionship he brought her. Now her brain hurt again. She decided on cleaning up the rubbish from the food and tidying up a little to clear her mind.

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Foggy felt good as he strolled into the office. He felt like his trip had gone well. He really didn't know why Matt and Daphne seemed to butt heads so much, she was always pleasant to him. Then again, he was Foggy Nelson. He had the bag with the one remaining burger and as he walked inside the office, he tossed it on the desk in front of Matt.

"It's cold," Matt muttered with a frown as he got it out. Foggy didn't even feel bad, snorting as he sat in the seat on the opposite side of the desk.

"Yeah. I went to see Daphne and we ended up talking for a bit," he said casually, keeping his eyes on his best friend. He saw Matts eyebrows raise slightly before he forced himself to look neutral. Matt cared. He cared about everyone in this city, it's why he did what he did. He even cared about the welfare of the girl who pissed him off and confused him.

"Really? And uh… was she… alright?" Foggy almost snorted at how not nonchalant his friend was being.

"She was fine. It was nice really. We ended up talking about her family and stuff," he replied, still watching Matts reactions. Matt actually looked stunned by that revelation as he started to eat his cold burger.

"I would have thought that was too personal to ask about," he said flippantly.

"Yeah well, it's amazing what she's willing to talk about when you're not an asshole," Foggy teased, causing Matt to roll his eyes. He knew Matt was dying to know what he found out but that he was stubborn enough not to ask. He decided to just tell him anyway. It wasn't anything overly personal so he didn't feel like he was doing anything wrong by sharing what she'd told him.

"Her parents moved to Hawaii. From what she said it sounds like they don't really talk. Her brother's a neurosurgeon and I don't think she talks to him much either. Then her older sister, Lisa I think, lives in the burbs with two kids and a husband. She said she gets on with her sister the most but how they live different lives. But I don't know, man. She seemed… lonely. It was sad. I mean, when I asked if she had friends her only response was Brett," he explained sounding mortified.

"Jesus," Matt muttered, eyebrows raised as he set the wrapper down after finishing his burger.

"Exactly. But I let her know that I'm willing to be a friend if she needs one. And maybe if you were a little nicer then you could be too. Being isolated isn't a good feeling, Matt. She needs friends. She might not go out and kick ass like you, but she's still into some heavy shit. She needs support," Foggy lectured.

Matt huffed a little and rubbed his temples as he looked over the desk at him.

"Why are you so set on this? We butt heads and I don't think it's going to change. Even when I'm nice to her, she flips like a switch. She's confusing and infuriating and there's no point in me trying," he insisted firmly.

"Fine, I'll leave it for now. But just try to keep it in mind. She might be the PI but I like to think I'm good at reading people. I don't think she's used to people really caring about her and maybe that makes her defensive and lash out? I'm not a psychologist, I don't really know. But maybe next time she goes all bitch mode, you just try to be patient with her," Foggy suggested carefully. Matt pursed his lips and just nodded stiffly. Foggy wasn't sure he was even listening at this point but at least he tried. He honestly thought the pair of them could do good things together if they got their heads out of their asses and worked as a team.

#matt murdock x oc #matt murdock fanfic #matt murdock #daredevil x oc #daredevil fanfiction #daredevil

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