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ak319 · 2 months ago

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Yan Socialite Brother x reader x Yan?Hubby

YOUR LITTLE EZZY'S BACK! So I couldn't help but write more about him. I will also write a version with the reader's wife. Enjoy reading ♡ Ezra Headcanon

In the dark hours, the Alvarez estate was shrouded in a thick silence, broken only by the occasional crackle of the fire that danced in the hearth. Shadows stretched across the grand, dimly lit room, adding to the air of peculiar mystery that seemed to cloak the entire estate. Ezra sat motionless, his gaze fixed on the flames that flickered with a restless energy, mirroring the turmoil within him. The news you had shared with him still echoed in his mind, fanning the fire of his emotions, making it burn hotter, fiercer.

"Amir?.." his eyes were fixed on your back as you scrummaged through the bookshelf. You replied back gently. "Yes, Amir. The boy who works on one of the farms."

So a slave huh?

And then you explained everything to Ezra, from how you saw Amir, appreciated his gentle nature, and were now thinking of bringing him here as your groom. Ezra’s rage simmered beneath the surface, though his fake smile and curious eyes never left your face. But your tone didn’t match the word "thinking", it clearly said, "I am bringing him as my groom." He was happy… happy for you. But on the other hand, he wasn’t happy for himself.

This was the day he had dreaded. For his own peace of mind, he sent one of his attendants, Rowan, to inquire about this so-called Amir. The report? Amir was a poor servant with three siblings and parents who also worked on the farm. Amir was the oldest. Hm. Poor, innocent, loyal, and not too bad-looking, though in Ezra's eyes, everyone pales in comparison to Alvarez's. Nobody can ever be good enough for you. He just didn't want his sister to marry a dirt-face. After all, their family has a certain dignity in society. There was something he relished in this situation, Amir’s meekness, bred by his lower status, was something Ezra could use and if his sister were to marry, it should be to someone who knows their place.

༺𓆩❀𓆪༻

Amir couldn’t shake the memory of the way you approached him that day.

“M-my lady-”

“It’s okay, relax. Just came to greet you and see how the work is going.” His hand continued to glide through the horse’s mane, though his gaze, filled with shyness and respect, lingered on you. You loved that. “What’s your name, boy?”

“A-Amir…ma’am.” You asked him more questions, and with each one, his initial fear of you began to fade. Eventually, he even dared to ask some of his own. He didn’t realize that he had backed away to the fence, cornered by your every step forward.

“I don’t think a…” You gently removed a leaf from his silky hair. “A pretty thing like you belongs on a farm.” His quick breaths brushed your face before he turned away. Did you just compliment him?! How could you not? He was so unique with that snowy hair and those pale green eyes. “U-um, but I have to-w-work to earn-for-”

“What if I say, not anymore?”

On that very day, you boldly asked his parents for his hand in marriage, right there on the farm, while Amir stood paralyzed in disbelief. His parents, naturally, agreed without a moment's pause, and his heart raced as he caught your final glance over your shoulder before you rode off with your men. How could a humble servant like him ever be worthy of becoming your husband? The idea felt impossible, undeserved. But as the reality settled in, he came to see it not as a blessing but as a test---a daunting trial between love, loyalty, hate… and obsession.

༺𓆩❀𓆪༻

'Time to play some games' Ezra smirked in the mirror as he gave himself a once-over. "Nobody can outshine you Ezra or take your place, nobody."

The grand staircase of the mansion, lavishly adorned for his sister's wedding, became the stage for Ezra's entrance. As he descended, everyone’s eyes were drawn to him. His gaze landed on you seated beside Amir on the sofa, and his smirk widened at the sight of Amir’s expression. Those doe eyes that have seduced his sister were now filled with embarrassment, as they should be.

Amir was at a loss. His brother-in-law, dressed in an outfit nearly identical to his own--albeit more glamorous and in a different color--had just exposed Ezra's facade. All the sweet words and actions before the wedding had been an act. Ezra settled onto the cushion next to you, casually nibbling on some food from the table, savoring the revelation of his little game.

"Ezra, you should have rested," you said, your tone carrying a hint of concern. Amir was taken aback, noticing your relaxed demeanour. It seemed you hadn’t caught onto Ezra’s stunt. It wasn’t your fault, after all. Maybe you are too tired to notice or don't want to scold your brother, whom you cherish deeply, especially in front of guests—many of whom were now eyeing Ezra with a mix of admiration and curiosity. His display was a calculated reminder that he would always eclipse Amir. Ezra had even missed the official ceremony, claiming illness as his excuse and retreating to his room.

"Nonsense!. How could I have missed my own sister's wedding? And did you forget that I managed all these preparations?. I would never miss it."

'Oh, but you missed the vow ceremony, how convenient and now he's here to remind everyone how he managed all of this and such a good brother-in-law he is by being sweet to me and my family.'

"Do I look good, sister?"

"Of course you do. When have you ever looked bad?" You reached out to pat his head affectionately before pulling a small pouch from your pocket. "This is for you Ezra, a token of appreciation for your efforts, as tradition dictates."

Ezra’s eyes sparkled with delight as he accepted the pouch of gold. "It was nothing. Thank you so much. I just did my duty."

He got up soon to cater to guests including Amir's family probably to show off how humble he is.

The only thing keeping Amir sane and easing his worries was you. Your hand held his gently, and he felt comforted by the ring you put on his finger. He placed his other hand on yours, needing the reassurance that you were there for him.

‘As long as you’re here,’ he kept praying silently.

However, as days passed since the marriage, Ezra's facade toward his brother-in-law began to crumble in your absence. Amir couldn’t understand why Ezra, who had been nothing but nice to him, now seemed to act cold and distant.

The taunts, the disgusted glances, and the deliberate ignoring of Amir had become a painful routine. What troubled him the most was Ezra’s ability to put on a friendly front when you were around. He wondered how a person could even do that? Can he be this deceitful too? His parents always taught him to be kind and true to people. That is why he bared himself to you, he opened his heart to you and gave himself completely. By now he had come to terms with it that Ezra won't ever see him as part of the family much less as an equal. But he remained focused on making sure you were happy with him, that he never made you upset with him because that is what Ezra wants but with Amir's modest and docile nature, it was nearly impossible,

"You know, Amir, since my sister is away on a business trip, you might as well stay with your parents for a while." Amir looked up from his untouched breakfast, confusion and concern etched on his face.

"U-um... why?"

"Why?" Ezra's lips curled into a dismissive smirk. "Well, your duty is to her, and since she’s not here, you might as well go. It’s not like you’re doing anything important around here."

"But—"

"I’ll have the carriage prepared." And just like that he got up and left, Rowan tailing behind him. And so, Amir found himself spending days with his family. His spirits lifted somewhat in their comforting presence, but his thoughts were always clouded by how much he longed to be in your arms. However...

"You don’t just get up and leave like this. Did you even realize how badly this reflects on me? My spouse just vanished after a few days of marriage. I expected you to be waiting for me at the door, but instead, you were here." Your words felt like sharp needles piercing his heart, making him clutch the carriage’s cushion tighter. His mind was filled with images of Ezra welcoming you back, whispering deceitful tales of how he had left.

'He was bored.'

'He doesn’t like it here. I think he doesn't even want to make an effort to adjust.'

'He didn’t even bother to greet you. What kind of husband is he, sister?'

"(Y/N), I d-didn’t mean to leave. It’s just--" What could he say to avoid further anger? Should he blame Ezra? The thought of making excuses or casting blame only added to his distress.

"I don’t care. Next time, don’t leave like that. And if you feel the need to, ask me first. Got it? Also, you can just call your family to visit there. That’s your home now, you don’t have to keep coming back here." He nodded, biting his lip. 'As if your brother would ever let my family feel welcome there. I would never subject them to that mansion of thorns, to be insulted. That’s something I won’t tolerate.'

"Forgive me?" he asked softly, leaning closer to you. "Please, I missed you with every breath." A tired sigh and a gentle caress on his face were all he received, but even that was more than enough for him.

༺𓆩❀𓆪༻

Time seemed to pass slowly for Amir, each day filled with torment and venomous words from Ezra. He hid his tears, letting them out in some corner of the mansion , so that when you returned, he could greet you with a smile. He didn’t know what to do. He didn't want to stress you by complaining about your brother or involving you in this petty game. He felt like he was going mad as he dwelled on his thoughts. The books offered some solace, but he wished his life were more like a fairytale.

“Well, I thought you should take care of the household budget now, but I think it’s too soon for you to handle this. There are a number of reasons for my distrust, which... I would prefer not to share.”

“It’s alright... I just joined the family, so I think it’s inappropriate for me to take on that responsibility. And brother Ezra is handling it well anyway.”

“Thank you for understanding.” You gently played with his hair as his head rested on your lap. “I love how understanding you are.” He melted under your compliment, the magical touch adding to his contentment.

“Anything for you, wife. You know better than me. Whatever decision you make, I’ll always accept it.” He kissed your finger, his heart swelling with happiness at the sight of the ring you wore. The ring his family had bought with whatever they could afford, and yet you wore it. You were the only one who hadn’t looked down on him because of his status. You even cared for his family, sending them provisions and gifts.

Actually, there was another person who hadn't looked down on Amir--your mother, Ms. Grace. She was a woman who preferred solitude, keeping herself busy with her hobbies after her husband's death. Whenever Amir felt alone, he made sure to check on her, offering company and conversation.

“You’re a really good boy. My daughter found a gem.” Amir smiled, but his eyes told a different story. They were seated in Grace’s study, having tea. “Something troubles you, and I know what it is. It’s Ezra, isn’t it?” Damn it, is it that obvious?

“N-no, no, he’s nice. I’m just--”

“Oh, save it. He’s my son, I can smell his shenanigans from miles away. And that daughter of mine—utterly stupid!. She’s the reason he’s like this. Either she’s too aloof or just chooses to ignore it.”

“No, no! She has a lot on her plate. I just don’t want to burden her with such petty problems. She brought me here so that she could find peace, not for me to disrupt it.” Grace’s heart swelled with pity and love at his words. “You are my son too, okay? And I’m just trying to help you understand that you’re the only one who can help yourself.”

“W-what does that mean?”

"It means you have to be strong. You’re not some piece of garbage my daughter picked up. She brought you here, gave you a title, and bestowed you with respect--so honor it, and don’t let anyone take it away just because they think you don’t deserve it. My in-laws were a piece of work too. May their souls rest in peace, but I went through some tough times with them. What kept me firm was my husband. Do you get my point?"

Her in-laws--oh, what a tragedy that befell them on that ferry. The whole town was shaken. Perhaps it was their karma.

“Yes.”

"You love her, right?" His head snapped up to meet her eyes. Was that even a question?

"More than anything! Always."

"Then don’t beat yourself up like this. Just do your part and leave the rest to God. Everything will be alright one day." Amir nodded and took a sip of his remaining tea, feeling a bit lighter and more hopeful. She was right. Being depressed and crying wouldn’t get him anywhere. Worse, you might even leave him because of his sulky behavior. His fingers tightened around the saucer.

༺𓆩❀𓆪༻

"Sir Ezra has called for you," Rowan informed him as he was putting on his shoes. The two of you were getting ready for dinner. "Me?"

"Yes, you, sir. In his room."

"I'll be there." He glanced at you as you were fastening your coat. "Yeah, go ahead, I'll be waiting downstairs." He nodded and left, but not before helping you with your sleeve buttons and giving you a quick peck.

"You called for me?" His smooth voice reverberated in the quiet room, his eyes finding Ezra nestled in his giant bed.

"Oh yes, you two are going out, right? Could you tell (Y/N) to bring back those pastries that I love?" Something felt off.

Amir swallowed the uneasiness and glanced between Ezra and Rowan. "Sure. Anything else?"

"No. That would be all, thank you."

As always, you had chosen a high-end restaurant, and your presence and attention made him forget all his worries. This was what he cherished the most, his time with you. Your care, your love. He felt, no, believed that he was the luckiest man alive. Contrary to Grace's words, you did pick him from the trash and made him your treasure.

When you both entered the mansion hand in hand, your smile immediately faded into a worried frown.

"EZRA!" Amir barely had time to react as he saw you rush up the stairs where Ezra was now slumped against the railing. The bag of pastries had been thrown from your hands and lay at his feet.

"ROWAN! CALL THE DOCTOR! What happened, Ezra?!"

"Di-did you bring the med...?" Ezra's one hand gripped your collar as the other his stomach.

"What medicine?!"

"The one I asked for..." Ezra's weary, hollow gaze turned to Amir, sending a chill through his very core. "Rowan, help me carry him." You shot a sharp glance over your shoulder at Amir as you hurried up the stairs.

'He did it again... God,' Thought Amir as he bent down to collect the crumbles scattered on the carpet. They mirrored his own shattered emotions and the fractured state of his new life.

༺𓆩❀𓆪༻

"I swear he asked for pastries... you believe me, don't you!? Please!"

"I said, let it go. Just shut up." You settled onto the bed, sighing as you saw him standing in the corner, emotionless.

"Amir, come here. There is something you should know." Your tone was soft, almost apologetic.

He sat beside the bed, his eyes cast on the floor. "Listen, I feel like you both don't get along, but that needs to change, okay? He is my brother, and you are my husband. Both of you are important to me. And I wanted to tell you that soon after having a talk with him, I will ask Mother to find a suitable bride for him. This family needs an heir."

Wait...

"Heir?"

"Yes, an heir. Even though, as you know, I'm not a fan of children in any shape or form, the line needs to continue. That is Ezra's duty, so he is essential to me. This whole tedious business of having children...ugh." You rubbed your forehead in frustration. "Whatever. But we will also treat them like our own, okay?" You loathed the idea of carrying a child yourself, and Amir was just as opposed to the thought of you experiencing any discomfort. The thought of losing you over that made him shiver. The business was more important to you than anything, and you made that very clear before marriage. Your word was law. Still, he couldn’t help but ask.

"C-can't we both... adopt, though?"

"That's for another day and why adopt now when we can have our own? Ezra has to marry someday. It’s completely fair. He needs to grow up now."

Your tone and earlier outburst made him nod frantically, but a new emotion stirred within him , something close to amusement. Oh, how will Ezra react when you make him marry someone. Maybe it’s for the best, 'At least he’ll get off my back, hopefully.'

Yet, he also felt pity for the woman who would be bound to that two-faced bastard. Is your only goal to use your brother as a breeder? That’s even more amusing.

As you lay down, he went to the bathroom and stared at himself in the mirror. If Ezra were to provide you with a child one day, wouldn’t that make him more honorable in your eyes?

'No, after today’s stunt, I’ve had enough of this.'

You want a child, an heir--that’s clear, that's fine. But he won’t let Ezra exploit this situation.

༺𓆩❀𓆪༻

"I--I mean--" Ezra stammered, his usual confidence wavering as he tried to find the right words.

You held his face in your hands, your grip firm yet gentle, your eyes searching his. "It's not like I am asking for something outrageous here," you said, your tone soft but laced with expectation.

Ezra's eyes darted away for a moment, then back to you. "I get you, but isn’t it too soon? I mean-"

"You're of age," you cut him off, your tone now tinged with a bit of annoyance. "You’ve never rejected anything I’ve asked of you before, and now you are?"

"NO! No, absolutely not, sister!" Ezra's voice was a mix of desperation and determination. "How can you even think that? I will do it. I will." Inside, though, his mind rebelled. It’s not the marriage that Ezra hates, it’s the idea of spending his life with some annoying woman. What if she turns out to be a snake too?! Oh, he won't forgive that, ever. His eyes betrayed a flicker of dread before he quickly masked it with a forced smile.

"Great, then. Mother will surely find the most amazing match for you," you said with finality, turning to leave. "Just make sure to tell her what your type is. Remember, she shouldn’t just be a good wife but a perfect mother for my heir too."

Without another word, you exited the room, leaving Ezra alone with his spiraling thoughts. Did Amir put this idea in your head? Sometimes, Ezra just wanted to kill that son of a-

"Deep breaths, Ezra, deep breaths," he muttered to himself, trying to quell the surge of frustration. Yeah, his sister wouldn’t be happy if her husband was torn to pieces. 'This is your life now', seeing Amir’s face in this mansion every single day, and soon enough, a wife’s too. Ugh! He threw a vase at the wall in a fit of irritation. He won't ever be in peace until you divorce Amir.

He couldn’t afford to dwell on that for now. He had to carry out your order, even if he despised the thought of dealing with an annoying woman and whining babies. You had given him a task, a job, and he couldn’t let you down. He would never let you down.

༺𓆩❀𓆪༻

Ezra's bride, Jean Aston, had been chosen--an arrangement made with a family friend. While Ezra couldn't have cared less about the choice, he at least appreciated that Jean stood out with her striking red hair and green eyes. His wife needed to be of some caliber, though in his view, only one person could be the true beauty of the marriage, and that person was unquestionably him. However, he also acknowledged the importance of passing on good genes to the heir you desired.

What he hadn’t expected was Jean’s bubbly demeanor. Wasn't she the one who had been too shy to meet him before the wedding?

"Can you be quiet? Can you be a bit more demure?" Ezra snapped, his patience wearing thin as she chattered incessantly, sitting beside him after their vows. "Look at me--am I being so chattery? Bride and groom are supposed to be graceful, woman."

Jean’s expression soured beneath her veil. "Wow, I was just trying to make small talk. I’ve been quiet since our engagement, so I’m going to talk now that we’re married. Also when is the food going to served?I am starving, how can-"

'God, just let this ceremony end already.'

Meanwhile, in the far corner of the room, Amir sighed, silently wishing Jean the best. Poor girl didn’t know what she was in for. His mind wandered back to his own wedding, the memory leaving a bitter taste in his mouth. It was hard not to compare the two experiences and feel a twinge of sympathy for her. At least you are way better than Ezra. A lot...no, perfect in his eyes. Always.

Once they retreated to their room, Ezra lifted Jean's veil with a cold, expressionless face, cutting her off before she could utter a word.

"There are some things you need to engrain in that skull of yours. First, always show respect for my sister. Always. You know that, don’t you? Secondly, try talking less and listening more."

"Got it! Now, where’s my wedding gift?" Jean’s cheerful interruption made Ezra’s jaw tighten, but he quickly masked his irritation with a smooth composure.

"No, you tell me first--who advised you to wear a harvest gold veil with such questionable embroidery? Huh? Such a poor fashion choice. I’ve explicitly told your family that gold is my color, I wear it. I don’t want to see you in it again." His fingers traced the material with a disdainful touch. "This abomination definitely needs fixing ." Though the veil was actually quite pretty, he couldn’t accept the fact that she looked good in it-- perhaps more than he did which is a big no.

༺𓆩❀𓆪༻

Months later, the mansion, once quiet and dull, now echoed with the cries of a baby boy whom you named, Joseph. Ezra handed you the baby first which you were hesitant to hold but did anyway, after all you asked for this. It only lasted for a few minutes before he dozed off in Jean's arms.

"Jean," you said, gently patting her head. She looked up at you with a mix of nervousness and curiosity, her eyes brightening with anticipation. You took the papers from Amir and handed them to her. "Here's a gift. A plot, in your name and another in dear Joseph's. You’ve earned it."

Jean’s eyes widened with surprise and gratitude. "Y-you didn’t have to, (Y/N)-"

"Jean," Ezra scolded gently, his tone surprising you. It seemed that your brother had softened a bit since Joseph’s birth.

"Don’t refuse (Y/N)'s gift. Accept it," he added. Jean nodded, her shyness evident, but her gratitude clear as she met your gaze. "Thank you, (Y/N)."

"Good, now rest. The nanny will arrive soon," you instructed, leaving with Amir in tow. Ezra shot a disapproving look at Amir as they exited.

"Don’t be rude to Brother Amir like that," Jean reprimanded.

"It’s none of your concern. Stop being his defender, anyway. Focus on the child, his upbringing must be perfect. And take care of yourself too--I don’t want you fainting while feeding him." With that, Ezra stormed out. Jean sighed, finding him as unpredictable as ever--hot one moment, cold the next.

The tragedy that struck when Joseph was just six months old was unexpected. The poor child fell gravely ill, and even the doctors couldn't pinpoint what was wrong with his stomach. But by some blessing, everyone's prayers were answered when Amir's remedy worked, one his mother used to give when they were sick as children and Joseph was saved. Had it been a moment later, who knows what could have happened. Even though Ezra didn't bother to thank Amir, it didn’t matter. Amir did it for you, for your child.

༺𓆩❀𓆪༻

"You know, I think it's been a while since I married you," you murmured, lost in thought.

Amir looked up from his book and chuckled, "Oh, you realized it now? I think it's been more than a while, my dearest."

"I know, I know." You now stood where he was seated, gently caressing his cheek. "I think it's time you start doing your duty here." You handed him the seal, "You're in charge of the household's budget now." Amir's eyes widened in surprise. "B-but brother Ezra--"

"Shush," you interrupted. "I decide how things are run here. And I’m giving you this responsibility. Don’t disappoint me."

He nodded, a grateful smile spreading across his face as he kissed your knuckles. "Never, I won’t ever dream of it."

From within, his heart was bursting with happiness. At last, he had something--something he wanted, something he could use as leverage against Ezra. His plan had worked flawlessly. His hidden knowledge of botany had made it all possible; plants to make poison, plants to make antidote. A soft giggle escaped him and so did some tears, as you left the room, the seal twirling between his fingers.

Deep inside, he couldn’t ignore the guilt gnawing at him as he saw the pain etched on everyone’s faces over Joseph. His own tears stung with remorse, but he believed it was a good plan--a necessary one to win your trust, your love. He hadn’t wanted to be so heartless, to poison his own child, but he felt he had no choice. Being Ezra’s doormat for so long had worn him down. And for once, watching Ezra in distress was so worth it. Amir couldn’t help but relish every moment.

(AN: OmG, Amir really turned dark, the poor innocent boi. Look how Ezra massacred my boy)

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streetlightyeri · 4 months ago

Text

false god ; boone

“i know heaven’s a thing, i go there when you touch me.”

[aka, boone is good at using a camera for more than just storm chasing]

w.c: 3444

warnings: 18+ MDNI. smut (oral, piv, breath play? in the lightest sense of the word, bandana used as gag).

notes: no beta, not even proofread lol i just needed to post this, i'll come back and edit at a later time. this is a piece from my wip about boone for my twisters/zach bryan song fic series (scott's is in progress as well a part two for "oklahoma smokeshow" for tyler). this was supposed to be fluff, slice of life moment, idk what happened <3 and as always, the fmc has a name but no descriptors bc i cannot personally write in 2nd person

She surprised him while they were on a chase. She was going to be in the state for no more than a few hours - when he headed out tomorrow she would be too. But she was able to get the information of where the crew was staying from Dani with the promise she would keep her mouth shut about it. Dani must’ve talked Tyler into letting them crash at a nicer place for the night because instead of a motel that Rowan was sure would give her hives, she pulled up to a very respectable 3 star chain hotel. She made a mental note to buy that girl whatever her heart desired.

Rowan pulled her hood closer around her neck and her hat farther down onto her head. She locked her vehicle behind her, keeping her head down as she walked to the side entrance Dani propped open for her. Once she made it in, she kicked the rock out the door jam and made her way to the elevator.

Rowan tried to calm her nerves as the elevator rose to the 4th floor. Her heartbeat picked up once the doors opened. She followed the signs to room 435. It was a corner room. Now Rowan was certain Dani had roped everyone into the plan; otherwise, a room like this would’ve been a coin toss or a game of pulling straws to see who got it. Her face burned at the thought.

But nevertheless, she knocked on the door. Boone’s voice came from the other side. “Yeah?” He was expecting someone from the team to respond, but heard nothing. He called out again. Rowan knocked in response.

She heard shuffling before the sound of the lock clicking. When the door swung open, she looked up, met with the sight of her boyfriend dressed in the same clothes he must’ve been wearing that day: jeans, a wifebeater, and a bandana tied around his neck. She could see his camo button down discarded on the end of the bed and his hat on the nightstand. A smile grew across her face as the moment started to click for him. He grabbed her wrist and dragged her into the room, double checking no one was lurking in the hallway before shutting the door. He turned the lock again and also flipped the deadbolt now that she was here.

When he turned back to her, he nearly tackled her onto the floor, throwing her hat to some corner of the room. But he managed to get his bearings before they lost their balance. His lips found hers; she could feel his smile as he kissed her. He walked them to the bed, keeping his hand behind her head to absorb the impact as her knees bent and her back hit the mattress.

He paused to pull back and look at her again, making sure she was real. “Hi, baby.”

She let out a giggle. “Hi, Boone.”

He leaned down and kissed her again, but stopped when her hand came up and pushed his shoulder back slightly. He knit his brows when she patted the bed next to herself but complied. She sat up to be eye level with him. He couldn’t believe she was here; his hands found her hips, sliding up her sweatshirt to rub circles on her soft skin. She wasn’t any better; she was trying to find her words but the way he was looking at her with his big doe eyes, like she was the best thing he’d ever seen, was making her brain short circuit. A haste kiss from him jump started her again.

“I have a . . . gift, of sorts, for you.”

He raised his eyebrows, “Is you being here not it?”

Rowan felt her cheeks heating up, her hands dropping from playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. She stood up and walked to her duffle bag she discarded blindly when he tackled her. She reached in and brought out the small box she wrapped in a haste and walked back over to him, leveling him with a serious gaze. “No one can know about this. Absolutely no one.”

“What is it, baby?”

“Promise me you will never show anyone this. Ever. No matter what.”

“I promise.”

She sat back down and handed him the box. He made quick work with the paper, his jaw dropping when he saw the picture on the side of the box: a camcorder. Nothing fancy, absolutely no bells and whistles. But Boone always had a thing for cameras. He’d started messing around with them back when he was enrolled in community college, fresh out of high school, still trying to figure out what the hell he wanted to do with his life. There was nothing more exciting to him than getting the perfect shot.

“You know how hesitant I’ve been about, uh,” she cleared her throat, “filming. But I thought about it. With something like this, there’s no cloud it gets uploaded to, no internet required. Nothing anyone can hack. It’s not the best quality, but it was the best I could find that I was comfortable with.”

He dropped the box on the bed next to him and grabbed her head in his hands; they were so large his fingertips met at the back. “Rowan, baby, please tell me you know I am fine with never recording us? I don’t want you to feel pressured. I let go of that fantasy a while ago. If you’re not comfortable with it, then it isn’t hot anymore.”

She nodded through his grip. “I know.”

He kissed her again, letting go of her with a whoop of excitement before he opened the tape on the box with his pocket knife. He pulled out the recorder and inserted the SD card, flipping open the screen, taking a sweep of the room. He played around with the settings, adjusting it for the room’s lighting. He was so confident in his knowledge of the camera. In seconds he got it looking more like 720p instead of the 480p she saw when using it in the store.

He flipped the screen so he could see himself as he recorded. He introduced himself to his imaginary audience while Rowan rested her head on his shoulder and wrapped her arms around his torso. He used his free hand to run a hand down her hair. He lowered the camera to capture her face for a second. “And this is my beautiful girlfriend.” He pressed a kiss to her temple. “She is the reason I have this camera. I think she’s embarrassed, but don’t worry, I’ll get her used to showing her face.”

She pulled back and hit his shoulder with a laugh while he winked at the camera. He flipped the screen and turned to film her, catching the perfect angle where the setting sun cut through the curtains to leave a beam running across her face. “She loves me so much she surprised me. Can’t believe she kept this a secret.”

“I was so close to spilling! You kept texting me about how much you missed me! And I had to lie that I wasn’t in Oklahoma. I even had Dani working with me to cover it up. I would send photos from the view outside my apartment that I’d been saving up for her to show you. I was scared you’d get suspicious when I kept refusing to FaceTime.”

He laughed from behind the camera. “You are a terrible liar.”

She faked a gasp, “Take that back!”

He smirked, “I think I can think of a way to make it up to you.”

She pulled her legs to her chest and looked straight at the lens of the camera, “Well then, why don’t you show me?”

He deposited the camera on the nightstand, throwing his hat elsewhere to make sure he had enough space to get the entire bed in the frame. One he was certain they’d be visible, he tore his shirt off and made quick work of hers. He lifted her bridal style to put her correctly on the bed. He untied his bandana and tied it around her neck; he liked seeing her wear it. He hovered over her on his arms, his hair and gold chain dangling into her face. She felt her face and chest flush. No matter how many times they found themselves like this, Rowan always felt like Boone was admiring her like a precious stone.

He shifted his weight and used his right hand to run his thumb over her red cheek. “God you’re so beautiful, baby.”

He undid her bra and he moved to sit on his haunches, admiring her from above. Her chest rose and fell as his brown eyes raked over her entire frame, leaving her skin burning in their wake. His calloused hands ghosted over her waist so lightly, her body jerked from the tickling sensation. His two index fingers ran under the waistband of her jean shorts; his eyes flickered up to her for permission. She kept her eyes stilled on him as she nodded. His eyes flickered over to the camera; he could see her side angle perfectly, surrounded by plush sheets while he hung over her.

“Is the camera okay?”

She nodded again, not looking at it.

“Need words, baby.”

She opened her mouth but hesitated. In seconds, he had the camera in his hand, about to snap the screen shut and stop the recording. Her hand reached up and wrapped around his wrist. “It’s okay, Boone.”

He shook his head. “No. You’re tense. We’re not doing it if you’re not 100% with it.”

She tightened her grip on his wrist when he tried to turn it off again. “I am. I promise. If you’re okay, I am. I’ll get used to it.”

He hesitated. He didn’t want her doing this for him.

“If I wasn’t comfortable with it, I wouldn’t have bought the camera.”

“You’re allowed to change your mind, no matter who bought the camera.”

She moved to intertwine her fingers with his, bringing his knuckles down to kiss them. “I’ll tell you if I change my mind.”

He pursed his lips, “Promise?”

She smiled up at him, “Promise.”

She helped him set up his perfect angle again before he rided her of her shorts and underwear. His hands ran up and down her side, taking count of every inch of skin. He rememorized every mole and freckle. His lips found hers again, making his way slowly down her neck, shoulder, the valley of her breasts while his finger twisted at her nipples. She felt him smirk against her skin when she gasped, hands reaching out to grip the sheets. He left bites on the smooth skin of her stomach, a place he was often drawn to. A place he could mark that no one would know.

When he made it between her thighs, he groaned. “There’s my girl.”

Rowan bit her bottom lip to stifle the sound that brought out of her.

Boone’s hands tightened on her hips; she could feel each finger digging into her skin. He pressed sloppy, wet kisses to the inside of her thighs. Her toes curled in anticipation, legs locking to try and prevent them from tightening around his head. Not that he would’ve cared. He had spent weeks warming her up to the idea of sitting on his face so he could finally feast like he wanted. She would never forget the way he locked his muscular arms around her thighs to keep her core connected with his mouth while he ate her out like his life depended on it, like he wasn’t destroying her for any other man ever.

When he finally connected his mouth to her cunt, he moaned into her, making a shiver run up her entire body as her hands moved to grip his hair. Her fingers twisted in his locks, making him let out another satisfied noise. His tongue reached out to lap at her core, taking in the sweet release and relishing in the taste. One hand moved to splay across her stomach, lightly opening and closing to keep her down and to scratch at her skin comfortingly; the other moved to leave bruises of his finger prints on her thighs before one finger, then two, then three pushed themselves into her. Her rapid breaths and whines filled the room as her hips jerked from the way he ate. While his fingers curled into the spot he knew made her see stars, his tongue circled her clit with unrelenting determination.

He glanced up at her, seeing her head thrown back with eyes screwed closed as he increased his pace. He knew he was doing good when he felt her body tensing up below him, her legs beginning to shake. She gave a hard tug on his hair when he pulled away and let out a stream of cold breath onto her clit before attaching his hot mouth back to it. She came with a cry of his name, tensing around him as her blood seemed to run through white hot fire. Her thighs clamped around his head, spurring him on to continue his feast as he rode her through her high. He managed to get his right hand free and bring it up to her mouth, tapping her lips which she opened without question. He shoved them in, so long he almost triggered her gag reflex. She instantly closed around them, sucking herself off of him while effectively silencing her from their neighbor’s ears. He used his thumb and pinky to grip her chin and turn her face to the camera. She whimpered when she saw how much of a mess she was, how much of a submissive puddle he turned her into without trying. The visual spurred her into another orgasm. When she finally came back to Earth, she let her legs go limp and released her boyfriend, much to his dismay.

He traced his lips back up to hers, pushing into her mouth. When he released their kiss, he left small pecks on her jaw, coming to her ear, “My favorite meal. Now my favorite show.”

She grabbed his jaw and brought him back to her lips where he lost himself for an unknown amount of time. He was achingly hard. Rowan ran her hand down his shoulders, past the scar on his ribs from when he got hit by a tree branch in the field, down his abs that he gained from always running from tornadoes, to run her hand over his length. She would never get used to it; he was the biggest she’d ever had, and he knew how to use it. He could bring her to tears without being fully seated in her. He had to coach her into taking deep breaths the first time they’d done it because she was so tense he couldn’t push in. Now, they knew the drill.

She pulled his belt off with one hand and discarded it somewhere in the room before popping his button. He discarded his pants and underwear off the bed, once again on his haunches, pumping himself in his right hand. Her hair was a messy halo around her, her skin shiny with sweat.

He lifted her legs to hang over his thighs, leaving her wide open for him to push into her without pain. His eyes flickered to the camera before coming back to hers; she nodded. He picked the camera up, and fixed the angle to where it was a clear shot of him entering her. With every inch he gave, her whimpers grew louder. “Bite down on the bandana for me sweetheart.”

She nodded blindly, biting down on the cloth that smelled exactly like him, like the cologne he wore that made her nearly stumble when she first met him. Her senses were clouded from anything else in the world. All that existed was him. The camera was an extension of him, like it always was.

When he was fully seated in, he gave a few long in and out thrusts, letting her adjust to his size before putting the recorder in its spot. When she gave him the nod that he was okay to move, he lifted one of her legs to rest on his shoulder, pressing a kiss to her ankle where she had a tattoo of a tornado, courtesy of Lilly and an empty bottle of Jack.

He gripped her hip with his free hand before he began to hammer into her. The sound of skin slapping filled the room. Her noises were one of his favorite things about sex with her, but he really did not need the neighbors knowing that he hadn’t even given her 30 minutes before they went at it; the bandana was not cutting it. He gathered up the material that was still hanging out her mouth and shoved it in. He gave a short “sorry” when he heard her gag but he wasn’t sure she heard it because he gave a very hard thrust at the same time that caused her eyes to roll backwards. He placed his hand over her mouth as well to keep her silent, her leg pressed against her chest.

Her hands dug crescents into his biceps and left long marks down his back. He had absolutely no complaints. If he could find a way to make the feel of him buried in her cunt permanent, he would. Boone grunted in her ear when she squeezed around him, “Be good, honey.” He felt her moan vibrate through his hand.

She was getting close, he could feel it. She kept lifting her hips in a way to both escape the pleasure but also find new angles for him to hit in hopes it would be what set her off. He snaked his hand off her hip and used his rough thumb to circle her clit. In seconds, he sent her over the edge. She tensed so hard around him he couldn’t thrust her through it. Her tightness sent him over the edge, his face buried in her hair while he was groaning her name paired with a whimper of overstimulation. When he finally pulled out, he got the camera again to film the dripping of his spend out her cunt. He reached a hand out and smeared his cum across her cunt. She jerked and whimpered, the feeling too much so soon after he finished her again.

He turned the camera to her face as he gave her his cum covered fingers to suck on. She had a sleepy, not-fully-on-Earth smile plastered on her face. She stared at the lens, at the extension of Boone, “Hi, baby.”

He held the camera out with one arm while he moved to connect their lips again.

The camera ran out of battery just as Boone was setting it up to look into the shower, right after he got a shot of Rowan on her knees with her tongue out, covered in his release, before she swallowed and showed her empty tongue to the camera.

He cursed when the screen turned black, an alert to change SD cards coming up. Rowan laughed and closed it after turning it off, grabbing his hand and pulling him into the shower. “You’ll just have to remember this round.”

Her hair left a damp spot on the pillow beneath him, but he didn’t mind. She was half asleep in the nook he made for her between his shoulder and arm, her eyes closed as she inhaled the scent of his soap and shampoo. If his arm was asleep under her, he said nothing. He had changed the sheets with the ones from the closet while she searched through his bag and her own to find something to wear. She ultimately decided on a pair of sleep shorts she brought and one of his plain t-shirts that hung oversized on her. She had a fist resting on his chest and had her leg across his waist; he lightly scratched at it, a comforting motion to help lure her to sleep.

He adjusted his head to leave a kiss on the top of her head. “I love you, Rowan.”

She was too tired to make any words, so she gave him a hum that both acknowledged his words and returned the sentiment. She kissed the nearest part of him she could before settling back into her cocoon. He pulled the blankets up closer to her chin.

#twisters #twisters movie #twisters 2024 #Tyler owens #boone twisters #boone imagine #boone twisters imagine #boone one shot #boone twisters one shot #boone twisters x reader #boone x reader #twisters fanfiction #boone twisters x oc #boone x oc

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dark-night-hero · 5 months ago

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Sealed deal (Rowan Theodore)

⤷ One day when your parents came up to you and told you that you would soon have a fiance, you already had a certain person in mind. So why the fuck is this guy in here?

You: Dude, guess what.

Theo: What?

You: Mom and dad told me I have a fiance. Ngl, I knew this day would come but come on now. I'm not even 18, I have yet to fuck someone I like. Why should I get tied up to someone I probably don't even know let alone like.

You: Lucky you, your mom and dad doesn't force you to get engaged to some spoiled brat here and there.

Theo: Pity.

You: I know right? I knew I could count on you.

Theo: Pity the person about to become your fiance.

You: You know what, fuck you. U ain't invited to my wedding.

Seen.

Looking at the text messages between you and your childhood friend a couple of days ago. You cannot help but to frown and throw you head back in frustration fingers reaching out to losen your tie as you felt suffocated. What a fucking bastard, you thought. Currently on your way into the fancy restaurant that you are meet your fiance. And there was already someone in mind in that matter. The child of your mother's friend, someone who was in the same circle as you and Theodore. What was the name again? Matil.. Sanda.. you forgot.

You groan, wishing everything was just a dream. Honestly you cannot believe your parents who dragged you in here out of your own will. Making you wear these uncomfortable clothing just make up a good impression. What was the rush? You were only seventeen, it is not like you would run out of fiance once you turn old. And even if you did run out of fiance, that would be an even more pleasure for you who can live your life the way you want, out of romance and just by yourself. You cannot even take care of yourself properly, what more would you treat your fiance?

"We're here young- wait! Where are you going?! The madam and master was already inside-?!" Startled, your chauffeur shouted after you once you make a run for it. Running away from the restaurant and was about to call for a taxi when you felt your getting lift up by your collar. "What are you doing?" "Theo!" Your eyes sparkled upon meeting with a pair of green ones. "I knew you wouldn't abandon me! Quick, get me out of here!" You beam at him only to be faced by harsh reality once he started dragging you inside the restaurant and you upon realizing what he was doing. "Traitor! Let go of me!"

"Oh my! Just in time you two, Theo, my dear. What took you two so long? We were about to get worried you two might not make it in time." ??? "Come on you two, sit. Sit here, we were just talking about the time and date of your engagement party as well as the families to be invited..." What the hell is happening? You are so fucking cofunsed as you sat down on your seat across his. You were pretty sure you were to be engaged to someone else, not him. Not him. You were to sure because you heard your parents talking. There is no way in hell he was your fiance. But there he is, right in front of you. You are so fucking confused and taken a back. At the same time, you felt a huge amount of relief.

Looking at the man right across you, his fluffy brown hair stays in place despite his movement. The way he cuts his steak gracefully and elegantly. Then your (eye color) iris met with a pair of green ones. 'Eat' he mouthed you causing you to pick up your utensils with trembling hands. Nevertheless, you woukd never forget the way your heart beats widely on your chest as he reminds you to keep your smile after that. This guy... was not so bad after all. "So what do you think you two?" "I'm fine with it if (First name) is." Suddenly all attention turn towards you and with no hint of urgency. "I like it, let's proceed with that. Mom, dad, aunt, uncle." You smiled.

"Gahhh! That drained me. I thought I was about to throw up." "Dramatic." He roll his eyes at you before slamming the car door behind him. The two of you where right in front of a city view on a hill side. The one the two of you would often go, all kudos to Theo having a drivers licence. "No, because you didn't even told me you were the one I was supposed to be engaged to. I was genuinely about to run away." That earn a flick on the forehead from him. "I was only told this morning, I knew nothing about this. Who would have ever thought I was the pitiful bastard I was talking about?" He spoke but you swear you saw him smirk for a moment.

"So? What's the plan now smartass?" You asked as silence passed by. Just the two of you looking at the stars. "Plan? Why do we need a plan? Rather than that. What are your thoughts about this?" He asked, looking at you for a moment before bring his attention back into the view. Onec again there was a moment of silence. "My thoughts? Well I must admit I was relieved that it was you." "Really?" "Yeah. It makes things much easier. It's not like we actually wanted to get married to each other so let's cancel the engagement once we reach 25!" Maybe it was because you were too focused on the stars, but you missed the way his green eyes had such dangerous gaze on them when you said those words. "Why?" "Why? Whats you mean why? No offence but I do not want to get married. I could not even take care of myself. Besides, you are not really my type." You roll your eyes at him. "Perhaps if you have a black hair, things would have been different." You whispered.

"So? What do you think? Let's break off the engagement once were 25, in the mean time, no one is allowed to have another in those years. I doubt our parents would let that be. We could also go on occasional dates, well we do hangout regularly, let's just treat that as a date. That would be enough to fool our parents for a decades." "And if you fall for me?" "Huh?" You scoff at him and laugh. "Then I guess I might end up marrying you. But I doubt that." You roll your eyes at him. "And that matter about you wanting to fuck someone else?" "What?! Why would you bring that up now?!"

And so you decided to tease him. "Oh well whatever, that should be none of our business. I already fucked with them yesterday-" "Who?" "Huh?" Why does he look so damn scary right now? "Who is it that you fucked with?" "Who- the who- you look like you're about to kill someone! Why should I tell you?!" Seriously what is up with this guy who cannot even take a joke? "Mon chère, answer while I'm asking nicely hmm?" Mon chère? Argh whatever! He started talking insane again! "You! I'm just kidding! I'm kidding! Why do you kept taking things seriously?!"

"You should have said that earlier!" He suddenly laugh and messed with your hair causing you to protest. At the same time in that swift moment, he mouthed the man watching from afar 'cancel mission' in which they quickly disappeared as if they were never there. "Whatever. So enough nonsense- do we have a deal?" You spoke, holding up your pinky finger. "Whatever you say (First name)." He roll his eyes nevertheless linked his pinky with you before quickly letting it go. "Hey! Take this seriously will you!" "Yeah yeah whatever."

[ⓒdark-night-hero] 2024°

: badly want to make this rowan x m.reader but sure, let's get this gn as possible lmao.

#dark night hero #oc imagines #oc x reader #rowan theodore #x reader #reader insert #oc x you #mafia x reader

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fairiesdowntheroad · 1 year ago

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SHE LOVES CONTROL — 1.

summary — Y/N takes the internet by storm,catching the eyes of all due to her performance on the track ; it just happens that she also captured a certain McLaren driver’s attention in the process.

pairing — f1 22-23 grid x fem! driver reader,love interest tbd

warnings — alludes to alcohol consumption,F-bombs here and there,some misogynistic flashbacks,race inaccuracies!!!

prologue | chapter 1 | next chapter

FROM J ⛅️ : hi everyone! we’re finally at chapter 1,let’s goooo!! i tried completing this as quick as i could for you guys — so i hope it’s alright 🌟 nothing really important this chapter,just our golden girl reaching huge milestones and forming a friendship (who knows? 🫣) with a certain someone on the grid.

lmk what you think and hope you enjoy! i wish you guys lots of love <3

BAHRAIN 23’ : SUNDAY.

P8.

Qualifying P8 overall? That was horrid for everyone’s standards….but qualifying P8 in a Williams that was considered a tractor? That was impressive.First race of the season…

First race in her entire Formula 1 career.

She was nervous,stressed,scared — a whirlwind of emotions really.There was only so much her teammate could do,trying to console her was proved useless as of now.The girl’s mind pranced all over the place,she tried — key word being tried, to slow down her heart.The Brit had taken a seat next to her,watching her lose her mind.He sighed softly,understanding how she would feel yet wanting her to put her doubts and worries to a pause.

Even if they only were acquainted for a few months,he could already read her like a book.She reminded him of himself — a particular time where he was in Toro Rosso.

“Y/N” he called out softly,placing a hand on her shoulder.The girl simply looked up at him with an indifferent expression,though he knew she was hiding all those emotions in her heart.Her hands balled up into fists on her lap,turning a shade lighter than her actual skin was a telltale sign. “You’ll be fine” he reminds her softly.

You’ll be fine.

She will be fine.

The words sinking in,she thought deep and hard about what he said.The worst case scenario would be a DNF — but there were many more races in the season to prove her worth.What if people would hate her for her performance? — people would hate her regardless of what she does ; she’s a woman to begin with.

She nodded her head slowly accepting his words.Don’t get me wrong she was still very nervous….but it couldn’t go absolutely horrid right? “I hope so.” she breathed out,nervous chuckle coming out.

“It’s your first race so I understand the nervousness..but take it easy”

Taking out her phone she scrolled through her messages one last time…only to find a message from her father.Her eyes scanned over the message — trying to hide a smile from forming.

‘Goodluck,will be watching you from the team’s garage’

Not her team though.

Putting the phone away to put on her balaclava and helmet,she quickly made herself comfortable in the car.Checking the settings one last time and doing a radio check ; she was all set to go.She manoeuvred the car out of the pit lane,taking her rightful place between the other 19 cars on the circuit.

“The goal is to maintain your position,overtake if you can but don’t be risky” her race engineer — Rowan informed her.“Copy.” she replied monotously,choosing to put her full attention on the red lights.

Only a few more seconds…and then away we go.It seemed like it would take forever for the light to go off.’You got this’ she repeated over and over again in her head….she would be okay.

3..

2…….

Hitting the throttle to push as much as much as she could,she managed to maintain her position right behind her teammate.Through her side mirror she spotted the obnoxiously pink and blue Alpine trying to catch up to her.Was it Gasly’s or Ocons’s? She didn’t care at all.All she knew was to defend her spot — and playing the supporting role for her teammate.

This went on for a few more laps.She was restless ; her mind thinking of ways to solve the little problem on her hands right now.

Seeing the Alpine begin to close the gap,she pushed the pedal harder than she thought she could.Her heart pumped at undeniable speeds,feeling the adrenaline coursing through.“Gap to Gasly is 6.2 seconds.You can push,the tyres are still fresh” Rowan commented.

“Copy.” She kept her replies short and sweet,all her concentration poured into increasing the distance between her and the other cars behind her.She inched closer to her teammate,not willing to overtake for now.She would have to listen to the team’s instructions…but there was something off.

He was slowing down.

“Alex is going awfully slow” she remarked through comms with worry seeping through.She maintained her pace which caused her to be wheel-to-wheel with her teammate.His car pulled over to the side,leaving her as the only Williams car in the race.Eyebrows furrowing wirh confusement she thought of bringing it up with the team.

“Alex has been instructed to retire the car due to an engine problem—you have to push as much as you can to maintain your momentum.”

Didn’t need to tell her twice.

She said nothing,trying her best to catch up to the two orange McLarens in front of her.Getting closer,the hairs on her neck were pin straight.

“You have DRS.Overtake available”

“Copy” she hummed.Inching even closer then before,there it was.She could overtake now.She drove past by the first McLaren with ease.Oscar,the Australian McLaren driver in question was surprised there was a Williams gliding right in front of him.Sitting comfortably in P6 now,she was on a roll!

Within a few moments,she was able to strike for the overtake over the other McLaren.She was taking her rightful place as P5.

Just a little bit more.

It felt like forever,mere minutes feeling the same as a millennia for the rookie.By now,it was the final lap so she pushed as hard as she could.Passing the finish line she let out a breath of relief — she completed her first race.

“Congratulations Y/N…that is P5.”

P5…

What.The.Fuck.

“You’re joking….right? There’s no way we placed P5” she asked bluntly.She may have sounded blunt — but the girl was overjoyed.

The car was a tractor by how problematic it was during pre-season testing ; how was it in the points now? It was a relief.She laughed obnoxiously,smiling through that balaclava and helmet.

“Believe if it you want but that is a P5 on your debut.Beautiful performance from you — cannot wait to see more” Rowan congratulated her wirh a chuckle,amused at how she was seemed ro be in disbelief.The girl was laughing in joy now.It might not have been a podium like she was used to,but a P5 in a Williams was almost the equivalent of that.

She was nowhere near being satisfied ; but this would have to count for now.

She pulled her car into the garage,hopping out of the cockpit cheerfully.Taking off the balaclava and her helmet,the girl was greeted with cheers and rounds of applause from her team.She bloomed with joy — she didn’t care if her hair was sweaty and all over the place,this was where her hard work has gotten her.

Alex had made his way next to her,bringing the younger girl into a brief embrace.He was disappointed the first race of the season resulted in a DNF for himself,but he would not let that stop him from celebrating his teammate.

“Told you it would be alright” he muttered close to her so she could hear him.She simply flashed him a small smile,her heart filled with gratitude for him.The whole team embraced the two drivers to celebrate,regardless of the outcome.It was a new start.

A good one to say the least.

MCLAREN: LAP 40/57

The Brit drove comfortably in his McLaren.He was not worried about losing positions now,there was a comfortable distance between him and the car behind him.Driving without a worry,he failed to notice the Williams inching closer and closer to him.

“Lando,you need to push.The Williams is closing the gap between you two.”

What?

There was no way a Williams was behind him.Was he too slow or was the car suddenly blessed by the gods of speed? He couldn’t waste any time pondering further on that — he wouldn’t let himself lose to that tractor.

“Copy.” he replied quickly hitting the pedal to the metal.He tried his best to maintain his momentum ; but it came to no avail.The car had glided right past him in the matter of seconds.

“Was that the rookie’s car?” he asked in disbelief attempting to catch up to the woman in front of him.

“Yes — that was Y/N’s car”

“Fucking hell.”

The after party was…insane to say the least.

She didn’t exactly oppose parties — but she wasn’t entirely open to them either.The loud screams of joy,sweaty bodies colliding against each other,and the overall smell of alcohol ; she was not really pleased with the thought of parties as a whole.

Everyone in the club was celebrating the start of the season, it would be a memorable one for the books.She was only a few drinks in but ready to call it a day so she could head back to her room.

Stood next to a wasted Alex,he was rambling her ear off about something beyond her comprehension.The pair had showed up together after he convinced her to ; saying something along the lines of ‘enjoying your firsts’ which definetly gave off an entirely different message….

She was unsure of what to do with him — call a cab back to the hotel? let him have his fun? The girl was stuck pondering there and nodding mindlessly to his slurring and rambling.

“I think I’ll take him off your hands for now rookie.”

Her head shot up at the voice approaching her.She instantly knew who it was ; his British accent was hard to miss.The two were cackling at the wasted gentleman.

Greeting him with a nod,she knudged the other driver next to her so he could acknowledge the newcomer.

“LANDO! I’ve been waiting for you” Alex happily chirped,throwing himself to his fellow friend.She watched in amusement as the situation unfolded in front of her.The younger man slinging his senior’s hand around him,he walked towards the center of the party — where the other drivers sat.Their eyes scanned over to a very drunk Alex whose body was supported by the McLaren driver,and then the newbie who did not want to be here.

She flashed a friendly smile to the others as they were welcoming her with cheers.Pierre instantly had to make himself known,greeting her with a wink.She brushed it off,choosing to focus on the others.They went back to being engrossed in their own conversations — she felt out of place.Of course she did! She was a woman standing amongst sweaty and intoxicated men…definetly a position she was not to happy to be in.

Her bubble of thoughts were popped when the young man approached her once more.“Sorry about Alex,I think he’s drinking all that pain from his DNF away.” he remarked,eyes crinkling as he joked.The girl chuckled softly with him.

“He did give me a warning before hand that he was a lightweight — I was surprised it was that bad”

“Well,I would be drinking the night away too if my teammate got a P5 in a midfield car and I had to retire.”

Wow.

He was blunt.

She scrunched her nose at his comment.He smirked at her reaction,hand going over her shoulder in a friendly matter.”Speaking of drinking — you look like you haven’t been doing any of that” he pointed out,eyebrows raised as he wondered the reason for that.

“I don’t drink that much”

“It’s painfully obvious you don’t.” he snarkily commented.The girl raised her eyebrow on him,he was sassier than she expected him to be.She huffed,unsure of what to do with the man next to her.The two had interacted a couple of times through random run ins into each other at the paddock.Shy smiles had been sent to each other…he thought she was Alex’s PR Manager.

“I’m Lando by the way,even if you already knew that.”

“I know — Y/N..” she hummed nonchalantly,the boy raising an eyebrow at her response.She didn’t have any intent of coming off as cold ; she just did not know how to make herself comfortable among them.She was the outcast in her previous years of competing due to her gender — it was unusual to feel welcomed now.

She wondered in the back of her mind,did he have malicious intent or was he just nice?

Y/N was more acquainted with his teammate — Oscar,racing against each other in Formula 2.It was good for Oscar that he got a seat in a prestigious team ; she was unfortunately stuck in the bottom.Speaking of Oscar,she scanned the club to find him nowhere…weird.

“I think I’m ready to call it a night to be honest.” she confessed looking up at him.He laughed whole heartedly at her bluntness.Shaking his head,he patted her back.”By the way,you did good out there.Overtook me like it was a piece of cake” he compliments her as the party goes on.Music began blaring even louder now — bodies dancing like there was no tomorrow.

“I can’t hear you” she said loudly so he could get the message.She did hear what he wanted to say ; she just wanted to hear him say it again.He simply nodded at her,his hand moving itself to intertwine itself with hers.Feet beginning to move,he manoeuvred her out of the club.The ear damaging music slowly died down,the two standing at the entrance.

It was a quite night…contrary to the club.Her eyes scanned the man who had just dragged her out.His brown curls,the white shirt that he adorned along with ripped jeans.Her eyes had then averted to the city lights ; shining in their upmost glory.Lighting up the way for them.

“What were you saying just now?” she asked curiously,eager to hear him now that they were away from the crowd.Lando scratched his neck,his hand that was intertwined with hers untangling itself.

“You…you did a good job in the race.” he hummed softly.She perked an eyebrow as a small grin formed itself on her face,her eyes glinting with mischief.

“Don’t worry — I actually heard you the first time.” she snapped back,biting her lip to hold back another chuckle.His eyes were admiring the view in front of them.Bahrain never failed to amaze him.

“Just remember,I won’t let you by that easily next time.” he promised himself,hands sliding its way into his pockets as he stared at her.

“I’d want nothing but your best,Norris.”

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seancekitsch · 12 days ago

Text

The Sword and the Quill: Chapter Two

Pairing: Gwayne Hightower x Reader

In the weeks leading up to little Daeron's departure to Oldtown, Queen Alicent finds herself trying to entertain the unmarried ladies of court. As one of her ladies in waiting, you agree to an anonymous penpal in one of the men at court, and end up spilling your heart to him. He is your perfect match, your equal. The only issue? The Queen's brother Gwayne Hightower will not stop teasing you as you try to uncover who responds to your letters.

My Darling Unfamiliar,

It does delight me to meet you this way, as often court can be all too serious and formal. The summer treats me well. I can tell you, without divulging too much, that the sun grants me her warmth daily, and the nights feel alive in their starlight. I am enjoying it, to say the least. However, I find the castle all too humid and stuffy despite its lofty peaks and open windows. Summers in my own home, though far, are much more favorable as far as comfort.

I will try not to make it too easy for you to guess my identity, as I can tell you are as sharp as any blade and cunning too. Though I must agree, it is a thought that taunts me as well. I desire to know you immediately, to put a face to such lovely penmanship and words. I will be looking for your hand everywhere in the keep, I fear. In fact, I have already begun. By the end of this little experiment, you may even know me better than myself.

I am a man of noble birth, and as you so desire, I have traveled a bit. Where would you wish to go first, my Unfamiliar? If I have been there, I can write to you of my time in that place, maybe even draw you a picture from memory. I appreciate that you wish to see the world for what it is, as most might not. The world is a dangerous and wild place, but are you ready to see it?

I too enjoy the arts, as well as sport. Will you be at the upcoming tourney? If I am lucky, a boisterous young knight will not steal your favor. I will not say more, except that I have a wonderful tutor for the lute and I feel myself learning more as time goes on. I admit that I am only adequate at dancing, but if I had a tutor in the form of an adventurous woman, perhaps that could change. Might we hope for a feast soon, perhaps with the coming of the Princess’ babe? Maybe without knowing, we will speak to one another. If we are lucky, we may even share a dance. I will even promise not to step on your feet.

I am certain our letters will become tomes themselves, as I find myself already getting along with you. Even from one letter, I find you a breath of fresh air in a stuffy keep.

I await your next letter eagerly,

Your Unfamiliar

You could kiss Alicent, you really could. How had you not known that there was such a man within these walls? Well truthfully, that was easy to miss with the way that you stick by the young queen and chase her children around when they’re playing. There are, however, only so many men it could be. Only a few men remain unmarried at court, and only so many do you think are capable of writing this way. They must be well educated, and not war-minded. This leads you to only four names.

“Lord Rowan, Lord Beesbury, Lord Darklyn, Ser Loras Florent, I don’t know,” you sigh as you sit back into the plush settee in Alicent’s apartments. Young Aegon throw’s down playing cards towards his sister Helaena, much to his mother’s dismay. Luckily though, neither child pays attention to your conversation.

“You’ve forgotten the Lannister Twins and my brother,” She offers, looking towards the list in the little book you’ve brought with you. You’ve started two lists. One of possible identities, one of the information you’ve learned about your unfamiliar. It’s a funny name you’ve come up with, you think. That someone will be so unfamiliar to you in person but so familiar on parchment. You did not dare tell Alicent of this, however. It feels that if you do, she will find something to admonish in it; or worse, speaking of it will mean that some of the magic will be gone. You were serious when you wrote the first letter, thinking that this person may end up knowing you even better than she does. She is your friend, but you do not for a moment forget that she is the most powerful woman in the realm.

You frown, forehead creasing into the pout.

“Do you really think the Lannisters are read enough to write like this? Do you think Jason plays the lute?” you don’t hide the humor in your tone, “Or Tyland being well traveled?”

Surprisingly, Alicent lets a chuckle escape her lips at your words.

“Suppose not,” she agrees, tearing her eyes from your list.

“But my brother still stands,” she punctuates her statement by tapping a finger on the list. Her nails are red, bitten and bloody in the cuticles. You grab her hand in yours, your thumb rubbing over her knuckles.

“Don’t you see, Alicent? Your idea is working,” you reassure her, and drop her hand to begrudgingly scrawl her brothers name onto the list.

The queen only offers you a weak smile, still so unsure of herself. You wish that she would just come into her power, that she would recognize her gentle strength. You suppose that this is unfortunately because she was raised here, as this castle could break anyone’s spirit. You wonder how the princess has lasted this long with her sunny disposition, but even that is starting to wane.

“Have you shown anyone your letter?” she asks, avoiding your praise.

“Only Lady Tarly, as she asked to compare letters.”

“And what of hers?”

“He called her ‘his hopeful betrothed’ and said he wished to know her waist size,” you scoff, infinitely pleased that he is not your partner in this scheme.

“I am only glad that man was not your letter receiver,” Alicent admits, “I think you would have eaten him.”

You laugh heartily. Alicent is rarely like this.

“As if his meat isn’t already spoiled. He would not be worth the roast or the wine uncorked for it.”

It’s then that Helaena speaks up, placing a card down on the rug between herself and her brother.

“The biggest smile will come from teeth stained by wine made from unfamiliar grapes.”

A shiver runs down your spine, as it often does when Helaena speaks. She seems to have riddles that only she understands, but her word choice cannot be coincidence.

“Princess, what do you mean?” you ask, and she only shrugs her shoulders and does not look towards you. She is focused instead on making patterns out of the cards before her, ruining Aegon’s game while he struggles to understand and add to the pattern she makes. She pushes his cards out of the way without explanation.

Later in the day, you find yourself heading towards the library, parchment portfolio and the letter tucked into a bag around your shoulder. You had tried desperately to write in the comfort of your rooms, but each time you went to put quill to parchment nothing came to you. You reread the letter from your unfamiliar nearly twenty times, wanting to say everything on your mind, yet none of it sounding right on paper. You had determined that it was a change of scenery that you needed to clear your mind.

Pushing open the large doors, you take in the familiar scent of the old books, the light of the windows streaming in on their spines. This is where you go to escape, to pour over texts and write notes and copy pictures from books about the old kingdoms and the far off reaches of the realm. And so far, it is only yours. Aemond will scurry in wither a maester from time to time, but mostly you have the vast collection to yourself. All of the books Viserys and Alicent read are delivered to them.

There is a table towards the back of the study, behind all of the shelves and next to a large window that you typically like to set yourself down at; you hide even within the hiding spot. As if compelled, your feet take you there immediately, only when you go to place your bag down, there is already a stack of books and someone else’s parchment there.

“Hello?” you call out, expecting a maester or even one of the servants that picks out Visery’s books. You do not expect a cropping of auburn hair to peek out from behind one of the rows of books.

“Ah, the outspoken pretty one,” Gwayne says, bowing slightly as he reveals himself to you. Already, you feel your blood boiling.

“Ah, the arrogant one,” you match his tone, sarcasm dripping, “I didn’t know you could read.”

“I must have you know I’m skilled at many things,” he replies.

You stand at an impasse, both awkwardly in the alcove at the back of the room at opposite sides of the table.

“What are you doing in my library?” the words come out without thinking.

“Oh, this is yours? I apologize, my lady, I did not know you owned the kingdoms books!”

“That is not— that’s not what I meant. This is where I go. Alone. When I must think or I must write.”

Any jibe to come from his mouth doesn’t land, instead:

“And I’ve taken your writing desk.”

“Yes!” you throw your hands up, exasperated by this back and forth with him.

He seems to ponder the situation, drawn out as his face scrunches in mock thinking.

“Tell you what, you can be of use to me.”

“I would rather be dismissed from court.”

Gwayne rolls his eyes, and you can tell whatever patience he has is wearing thin. That makes two of you.

“Must you always be this vexing? I need help finding a book. I will trade this spot for the book.”

Oh. Well why did he not just say that?

“Fine,” you sigh, but not before placing your bag down onto the chair to already stake your claim.

He leads you back towards the front of the library, where some of the tallest shelves held built in ladders and a large fireplace sat unused until the winter months.

“What subject entices you, Ser?” you ask, mock interest steeped into each word. You turn your back to him, gazing up at the shelf behind you. It contains books on the histories of all the great houses, and all of their vassals. You can see the burgundy and gold of your family’s history sitting far enough away that you’d need the ladder to reach it.

“Courtly Love,” he responds, his voice betraying hesitance. You spin back around towards him.

“And does a knight such as yourself not already know the rules of Courtly Love? Is that the cause of your irksome disposition?” you balk at him. Truly, you are only half joking. As a knight and highborn man, this is something he should know front to back.

Gwayne grimaces, his eyes downcast.

“Forget it. I will find it myself. Enjoy your writing desk,” he tells you, and starts to move away. For some reason, a pit begins to form in your stomach.

“Wait! I apologize, Ser Gwayne,” you say it, and you mean it, “I know where we can find a book that may help.”

“Lead the way.”

You find yourself then looking back as you urge him through the labyrinth of books, a glance over your shoulder here and there to make sure he is keeping up. ‘Just this way’ and ‘almost there’s peppering the experience; to which he sighs, but it’s not as exasperated as before. He seems almost amused at your knowledge of the vast collection around you.

You huff, almost out of breath as you stop before a certain shelf. Gwayne, distracted, accidentally runs into your back, pushing you to brace yourself on the ladder. His hands find purchase on your waist, where your satiny bodice meets your skirt, the sound of swishing fabric and clinking armor echoing.

“Ser Gwayne! Act like the gentleman you claim to be,” you chastise him, but the genuine anger of your bite from earlier is gone. What game is this that he’s playing? He removes his hands from you, steadying you both.

“Lady Y/N, the way you speak to me is unbecoming of your birth,” he retorts, his edge also gone. Are you joking with him right now? Is this not animosity?

“Do you still want this book?”

“Desperately.”

“I thought so,” you confirm, narrowing your eyes at him.

You grab the rungs of the ladder easily, this climb normal and easy to you. It is at least weekly you grab books from the tops of ladders, and at least monthly you help Alicent pick out books for her children though you suspect only one of them reads them all.

“It is here,” you call down to him, gesturing at the shelf nearest where the wall turns off to a balcony of sorts, a separate study. You grasp the book, pulling it gently from the other dust covered tomes and climb back down.

“I did not take you for a climber,” Gwayne remarks, watching you carefully the entire time as if you might fall. You do not; you are good at this by now.

“And again, I did not take you for a reader,” you retort, hopping down the last rung and returning to the floor on his level.

“I appreciate this, and I’m sure my sister will be glad to hear that we did not kill each other.”

The corners of your lips fight to turn upwards, and you steel yourself against smiling.

“What do you need this for?” you ask as you hand over the book, watching him press his lips together and blow excess dust off of the cover.

“I fear that you will be merciless if I tell you, but you’ve been helpful today.”

Right, the urge to smile dies as he throws that your way.

“It’s about those letters my sweet sister has us writing. I find myself wanting to brush up on the practices of Courtly Love if my writer will have me.”

Your eyes widen, understanding what he’s saying. Gwayne Hightower is potentially looking for a wife. Maybe that will suit him, you think, maybe matrimony will quiet the boisterous personality and bold flirtatious streak within him that frustrates you about him. Maybe a wife will make sure Daeron does not grow up to be a spitting image of his uncle.

“Well I do hope she understands the challenge ahead of her.”

His eyes narrow, taking the barb in stride.

“And you? What are you here for, my lady?”

Your shoulders sag, the magic of an almost nice moment with him already gone.

“If you must know, I am here to write my own response letter to my writer. Sometimes my quill seems to take a mind of its own in this room, and I can get the words on the page easier.”

“Is this where you normally go?”

“I have one other place, but I do hope you never find it.”

And you do mean that, for multiple reasons. You do not want him knowing your location like this, nor do you want him or anyone discovering that you know about Maegor’s tunnels, though all they would have to do is find the same book you did to be able to discover the tunnels for yourself. Based on his inexperience in the library, however, you feel that secret will be safe.

“Not to worry, I won’t go looking,” He assures as he holds up the book to you again, as a silent thank you before he turns to walk back towards the front of the library. As he turns, he mumbles just barely loud enough for you to hear, “I fear what might happen to me if I do.”

He leaves you again after giving the last word, though this time it does not leave the same bitter taste within your mouth. You sigh deeply, and decide to head back to your writing desk to finally sit down and pen this letter.

You take out the parchment, your little pot of specifically blue ink, your quill, then finally you sit; this chair is old, and specifically needs to be reupholstered and stuffed, as now your bottom has created a noticeable dent within the failing down within it. However, you hesitate to notify any of the castle staff about this, as that could spell the end to the privacy of this location for you.

You try to clear your mind, thinking of only your Unfamiliar. You read the letter again, and again; thinking of all the things you wanted to say, the urge to be an open book and practically reveal yourself to him almost too tempting, but you need to be clever.

So you dip your quill in the ink, and begin.

My Traveled Unfamiliar,

It is quite coy, the way you evade giving yourself away. I fear, for your sake, that it will be much harder to hide from me as you reveal more of yourself in these letters. If I may be so bold, I feel that I am glad and surprised that a man such as you is not betrothed, and that we may meet at all. How terrible would it be if an impending marriage would stop us from becoming friends? I feel I need more friends in this castle, and despite not knowing who you are, I feel a certain kinship. I agree with you that this place is far too humid, it makes my hair frizz and my temper fray. I find myself, despite a promise not to, trying to narrow down the list of eligible men that you could be. I will be comparing every answer of yours to my knowledge of these men, so your identity will not remain a secret for long. I apologize if that seems forward, but I have never been one to let a mystery sit.

Have you ever been to Dorne? Or Lys? I have heard many a wild tale and adventure from their lands, and one day I’d like to see them for myself. Maybe one day, I will be traveled enough to write to you of where I have been. Or even closer, have you ever been to Oldtown? The Queen has mentioned its beauty before, I would love to know more.

You pause your writing, thinking for a moment about that question. You ask partially for yourself, partially for little Daeron. Of course Alicent says all good about Oldtown, but she is from there. Maybe, if there is some kind of flaw there, maybe you can keep little Daeron as your shadow for a little longer. Perhaps this will also prevent your quill mate from knowing who you are. Everyone here has spoken to the queen, and you did not reveal you know her well.

I must disappoint you though, as I do not care much for tourneys. I find the boastfulness of the men distasteful. Though this time, perhaps it will not be so vexing. This tourney, I will be scanning the crowds in hope that I will find you. I have this hope that when our eyes meet I will just know that it is you. That there is something that I will recognize right away in you. Perhaps after this tourney, if I find you, I can persuade you to play me a song on your lute after the games conclude.

I would very much like us to share a dance at the next feast, though you must be warned that I will dance circles around you. You will not be able to step on my feet because you will not keep up with them!

I am very glad to have met you, even though I have not met you. Your letter has brightened my disposition within this castle, and I appreciate you. I hope we will write novels to one another.

Hoping for a quick response,

Your Unfamiliar.

You look over the letter, realizing that maybe it’s very forward, but the way that whoever on the other side wrote to you tells you that it won’t matter. You fan the parchment in the air, the corners of it shaking and making noise. Gwayne, from across the library, snaps his head up to look at you. But instead of any sneer, he simply just smiles at you and nods. He is already about halfway through the book you recommended, a parchment next to him and notes clearly taken from the content of the book. You pity whatever young woman he is trying to impress, you think.

When the ink on your parchment is dry, you place it carefully into your portfolio, and pack up to leave so you can seal it in your room.

You walk across the library, bag slung and rusting against the material of your skirts. Gwayne’s attention falls upon you again.

“Thank you,” he calls to you, that soft smile on his face again. You only nod in response, an odd feeling settling in your chest as you put more distance between yourself and Gwayne Hightower.

#gwayne x reader #gwayne hightower x reader

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leclerc-s · 9 months ago

Text

struggling to survive netflix

series masterlist

rhys jones word of advice: DO NOT watch season 6 of drive to survive.

max jones-verstappen you watch that crap?

rhys jones i couldn't sleep, it dropped, so i watched it. worst mistake of my life.

rhys jones i can't believe i was at several races and ryan made it onto the show before me.

esteban ocon oh yes, i forgot about that.

isabella perez someone tell charles they made him out to be the villain.

natalia ruiz just like max in season 1.

charles leclerc i did nothing wrong all season but have shitty luck.

dulce perez monza. charles leclerc i may have done one thing wrong.

rhys jones max went from being the formula 1 villain to being comedic relief.

max jones-verstappen i bet there was no mention of my win streak

isabella perez in the last fifteen minutes but only because christian mentioned it.

charles leclerc can i enter my villain era now?

pierre gasly do you even know what that is? charles leclerc je t'emmerde connard

rowan todd WHITE HORSE?? CONEY ISLAND?? WITH MAE?? ARE YOU TWO TRYING TO KILL US??

daphne jones-ricciardo 😁😁 mae jones-verstappen 😁😁

isabella perez CONEY ISLAND?? YOU SANG CONEY ISLAND?

isabella perez THIS IS FUCKING WORSE THAN LOSING MIRRORBALL!!

max jones-verstappen to be fair i lost seven to fucking pittsburg of all places.

rhys jones jokes on you guys, my song still safe.

daphne jones-ricciardo and what song is that rhys?

rhys jones thug song

daphne jones-ricciardo of fucking course it is.

alex albon crossing my fingers for monologue song next!

george russell charles cried when daphne sang this is me trying as a surprise song. i have a picture of it.

bailey winters one could say you "have it printed out" george russell hilarious bailey. bailey winter this is why lewis decided to leave mercedes, because you're dry as fuck george russell TOO SOON BAILEY!! TOO SOON!!

isabella perez sylvia just got me in trouble. apparently it's not good to speak out against netflix.

dulce perez i think it's more so because you spoke out in favor of a driver from a rival team and not that you spoke put again netflix. natalia ruiz i didn't get in trouble? charles leclerc it was probably the oscar part and not the netflix part isabella perez i got told by fred that it was okay??? just no spilling company secrets.

carlos sainz she probably just doesn't like you.

isabella perez wow.

lando norris to be fair, you are quite annoying. i get it.

dulce perez only i get to call her annoying kermit the frog

lance stroll we should wait until the next season for more drama. that's when it'll be good because of a certain someone breaking f1 twitter.

lewis hamilton talking about me? mick schumacher don't forget the secret contract lengths! esteban ocon and silly season!!

freya vettel i was fully expecting them to make oscar and lando to look like enemies. they've done it before.

isabella perez we should make a drinking game out of dts!! anytime d*nica shows up on screen we take a shot.

zoya torres we'd end up blackout drunk. george russell alternative, take a shot everytime will buxton says something funny. max jones-verstappen or anytime they make teammates who get along look like enemies. mae jones-verstappen you seriously still bitter about the daniel thing? max jones-verstappen YES! WE WERE NEVER ENEMIES!!

esteban ocon netflix doesn't know that friendships and rivalries can exist on the same scale.

rowan todd doesn't help that pierre said, "we'll never be best friends."

rhys jones i'm surprised they haven't brought in the nepotism card yet.

mick schumacher they did.

rhys jones i avoid that episode to not cry and charles' episode in season 1

isabella perez oh, same! we're very emotional people. i also avoid daniel's episode in season 5. and i can't stand otmar.

oscar piastri mood. esteban ocon same. pierre gasly you're lucky you didn't have to work with the guy. lance stroll welcome to the club

sebastian vettel any mention of my bee corner?

isabella perez no, and the people are upset. they wanted more of seb's buzzin' corner

logan sargeant he got the logan treatment, completely forgotten.

oscar piastri that's not funny mate.

alex albon lily and i are working on getting rid of his tendencies to degrade himself.

max jones-verstappen how's that working for you two so far? alex albon not well as you can see

daphne jones-ricciardo we have a new set of grid parents!

daniel jones-ricciardo GO TO SLEEP!

daphne jones-ricciardo shh! i just got to episode 3.

fernando alonso my favorite episode is episode 1.

max jones-verstappen ARE ALL OF YOU WATCHING IT?

lewis hamilton i wanted to see how they foreshadowed my move to ferrari. mae jones-verstappen daphne dragged me into this. daphne jones-ricciardo LIAR! IT WAS YOUR IDEA! george russell i wanted to see how i evolved through the season

max jones-verstappen i guess i should watch it.

daniel jones-ricciardo i promise you won't regret it.

12 hours later

max jones-verstappen you're a fucking liar daniel jones-ricciardo. i regret it so much.

taglist: @burningcupcakefire @arkhammaid @sunflower-golden-vol6 @applopie @lorarri @mypage-myfandoms @bb-swift @thewannabewriter @you-bleed-just-toknowyouarealive @stopeatread @hobiismyhopeu @lilsiz @alessioayla @niniluvsainz @au-ghosttype @cowboylikemets1989 @justtprachisblog @rmeddar123 @nichmeddar @landonorizzz @unluckyyoshi @Mimolovescookies @brekkers-whore @natcha888 @camdensreg @mycenterfold @dear-fifi @prongsvault @kaa212 @anxxiousaries @julesbabey1 @julesbabey @georgeparisole @Smnthnclj @dan3avocado @melissayalene @nothanqks @nikfigueiredo @bella-1 @namgification @jensonsonlybutton @chezmardybum @d3kstar @weekendlusting@anytimeanywherebitchblog @ragioniera @burberryfilms @trouble-sistar @lesliiieeeee @leclercsluv @33-81

strikethrough means i couldn't tag you

click here to be added to the honest series taglist

¡leclerc-s speaks! pushing my disliking for danica and otmar with this one. i still don’t understand why she was in season 6 of dts when she’s never driven an f1 car. i was thinking of doing a written part for the parts i made up but would anyone be interested in that?

¡disclaimer! this is in no way making assumptions about the people involved in this story, this is all fake. it is a fanfiction please don't take any of what is said seriously. this is all for entertainment purposes and as a creative outlet for me. enjoy!

#leclerc-s #the honest series #formula 1 #formula 1 fic #fanfic #fanfiction #f1 #f1 smau #f1 social media au #f1 instagram au #f1 fic

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morbiderotica · 2 years ago

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Jealous xavier sex??

─ ★ jealous jealous boy ... afab!reader

"What the fuck are you doing?" Xavier asks angrily as he walks up to you. See, normally, you would never sit on another boy's lap. Let alone his closest friend. But desperate times call for desperate measures. 'What?" You ask innocently. "Don't do that shit. Get up." He holds out his hand for you to get off of Ajax's lap. "Let's go." He says as he pulls you along with him and turns your head to mouth a 'thank you’ at Ajax.

You had been trying to get Xavier's attention all week, but this art project was more important apparently. You were sick of being turned down but you knew there was one thing he couldn't resist. Jealousy. He was so jealous of anyone and everyone. The thought of someone else touching you the way he did makes his blood boil.

He threw open his dorm door, thankful Rowan was expelled or killed or whatever, he didn't care what happened to Rowan right now. He pushed you onto his bed and took off his belt. "You think you're cute?" He laughed menacingly. "I don't know what you're talking abound Xavi." You whined innocently. "Get on your stomach." He growled. He seriously was not having any of your bullshit.

You quickly flopped over, patiently waiting on your stomach. "Up." He commanded. You lifted your ass up slightly. He moved your skirt up exposing your pantycovered ass. He rubbed it gently before giving it a light smack with his belt. He was quick to soothe the growing red spot when he heard your painful whimper. "You know what happens when you do this shit." He said as he smacked your other ass check with the belt, moving to soothe that one next. "I know, I'm sorry Xavi. I just needed you so bad." You pleaded.

You heard the belt fall to the floor, and soon both of Xavier's hands were on your ass. Kneading each cheek gently. "Well, if this is what you wanted, then I shouldn't reward you." He humored. "No! Please, I really need you, Xavier." He knew you were serious, and he would be lying if he said he hadn't missed touching you. He tediously took off your panties, slow and taunting.

He gently spread your legs apart, getting a good look at your soaking pussy. He took a finger and placed it on your clit, rubbing it excruciatingly slow. You whined and forced your head into the mattress, trying to mask any sounds he might get out of you. He slid his finger through your aching slit, stopping at your entrance. He slid in two fingers, pumping them in and out at a slow but pleasing pace.

"Xavi, please, more." You requested, but he ignored you. He kept his slow pace, maybe even slowing down slightly after your request. He continued to pump his fingers, only stopping when you muttered some curse word. You whined at the loss of contact but heard the sound of a zipper and some rustling.

You felt his throbbing dick slowly enter you. Whines left your mouth until he fully bottomed out when he let you adjust. He kneaded your ass cheek as he waited, only moving when you began pushing yourself against his dick. "Oh god, Xavier." You moaned and closed your eyes. His pace was quick and he was pounding into you almost without a single care.

"Who's are you, hm?" He moaned out, enjoying this just as much as you. "I'm yours, I'm all yours. No one else's." You moaned, certain people from other dorms could hear you. "That's fucking right. Mine." He mumbled mostly to himself. "Such a good fucking pussy and it's all mine." He groaned, close to his climax.

He reached his hand up to your head, pulling you up to his chest by your hair. He began leaving messy kisses on your neck and collarbone, still keeping his rough pace. "I'm so close." His voice was hoarse but it only turned you on more. "M' gonna cum." He whispered in your ear as he released into you. You expected him to keep going, to get you to your own climax, but to your surprise, he pulled out. "I hope you didn't expect me to reward you." He laughed when he saw your confused face.

please lmk if you wanted the reader to be amab, ill change it!

#─ ♡ wednesday #xavier thorpe smut #xavier thorpe #xavier thorpe x reader #wednesday series #wednesday

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lovetorn · 2 years ago

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tonight you are mine — xavier thorpe

Guitarist!Xavier x Fem!Reader

Summary: Enid invites you to a gig with her new band, which leads to a certain guitarist taking an immediate interest in you.

Warnings: a little suggestive, singing (yes, this is a warning), idk music

A/N: i love this one, and i hope you will too.

W/C: 2.6k

“I promise you’ll love them. They’re like brothers to me. Except for Ajax, of course.” Enid giggled. “This is gonna be awesome!”

You smiled as she spoke over the sound of her pink Doc Martens slapping the concrete. Enid carried a tote bag full of what you didn’t know. All you had was your phone and a lip gloss tube, clueless as to why Enid insisted on taking so many belongings to the gig.

Enid only joined her boyfriend’s band as a lead singer last month, and you hadn’t seen them perform yet. You had never met the other two original band members, only Ajax, as he and Enid were almost attached at the hip. Enid had you listen to some demos over the few weeks she had been a part of it all, and you were beyond proud of your best friend.

“I think there’ll be a huge turnout tonight. Xavier told his college friends, and Rowan invited his study group. I can’t wait to get out there,” Enid grabbed your arm, a wide grin on her lips. “Aren’t you so excited? I am. I want you to hear these songs so bad.”

Your heart doubled in size as you listened. Enid was completely enamoured with the band despite only being in it for a short period, and you guessed that’s what made the boys so grateful to have her around—she was just as passionate as they were.

You smiled brightly at her and nodded. “I’m so proud of you, E. Soon, I’ll be waiting hours to get front-row at your concerts.” Then you widened your eyes jokingly. “I’ll have to fight teenagers to get tickets!”

Enid stopped you and turned toward you. She wore a giddy smile and shook her head. “You won’t be in line. You’ll be backstage. Duh.” Then she latched onto your other arm and shook your shoulders, both of you sharing the same elation, laughing together.

“Hey! What’re you girls doing?” A voice called from a car. You didn’t think Enid’s smile could get any bigger until she peeked around you to wave at her boyfriend. Ajax sat in his beat-up Subaru on the curb. Enid grabbed your hand and pulled you along toward the car.

“Just discussing our future success,” She exclaimed, opening the passenger door and sliding in. You got in the backseat and watched as the couple shared a kiss.

“Come on, at least wait until I’m out of the car.” You joked, covering your eyes. Ajax rolled his eyes and put his car in drive, pulling away from the sidewalk and back into the traffic.

“It’s okay, baby; she’s just jealous. She hasn’t gotten with anyone for months.” Enid threw you a teasing look and a cheeky smile before returning her gaze to the road. Your mouth opened and closed, no words forming on your lips as Ajax laughed.

You sighed obnoxiously and turned your attention to your phone. The pair in the front shared a few whispers before Ajax spoke.

“We’re sorry, Y/n. I bet there’ll be someone here tonight. There’s a lot of people coming.” He said, no hint of sarcasm in his tone. You met his eyes through the rearview mirror. “I know Xavier needs some, too, jeez!”

Enid slapped her boyfriend on the shoulder. “No! I will not let him anywhere near my beautiful Y/n.” It was the first time since this morning that you’d heard her voice so serious. “She will not be his rebound.”

“Yeah, I don’t want to be a rebound, Jax. But thanks, though.” You falsely smiled and looked out the window. The sun had started setting a half hour ago, and the sky was painted a deep tangerine.

“Just saying! Ever since he broke up with Wednesday, he’s been so pissed off. Nearly had my head on a stick because I ordered tomatoes on his sandwich. He’s fucking crazy!”

You had heard stories of Xavier, mostly from Enid. Tall, green-eyed, goofy, and sometimes timid. He intrigued you, yet you’d never seen him.

“Okay, Y/n. Jax and I are going backstage for like 20 minutes. Will you be okay on your own? I don’t want to leave you alone, and I know you hate that.” Enid explained as the car pulled into a parking spot behind the small venue.

You nodded in approval and got out of the car. “Yeah, that’s fine, don’t worry about me. Go be a rockstar.”

She gave you a grin and a hug. “I’ll dedicate ‘swoon’ to you.” Laughing, you pulled back.

“I hope so. We wouldn’t want Ajax getting a big head.”

⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . * ꙳ ✦ ⊹

You stood at the front of the crowd, securing the spot the moment you entered the doors of the building. As expected, the venue was packed. Knowing Enid was beyond ecstatic, you didn't doubt she was a little nervous.

Your mouth was sticky from the fresh layer of lip gloss you applied not 2 minutes ago, and you moved your lips together to ensure it was evenly coated. You wiped the corners of your mouth with your fingertips, and a short cough rang through the room, indicating one of the band member's microphones was on. You looked up and noticed an unfamiliar set of eyes focused on you. Your gaze quickly darted away to notice Ajax already sitting at his place behind the drums and again to see another new face on the other side of the stage. The boy had glasses and held a bass guitar. All who was missing from the stage was Enid.

Suddenly, the lights turned a deep purple, and the chords of ‘Monodrama’ started playing through the speakers. You looked back towards the first guy whose hair hung in his eyes as he plucked at his guitar strings, his body hunched over slightly. You watched him in curiosity and confusion. They were starting without Enid?

But your question was soon answered when the ball of sunshine you called your best friend came running out on stage, a microphone up to her lips as she sang the first line. Your face broke out in a smile. As the song continued, you saw her become more comfortable in front of this many people. She pointed at you and jumped around.

You nodded to the beat, mouthing the lyrics you knew before your eyes drifted to the long-haired electric guitarist. Xavier. As he played, his eyes met yours again. His dimples indented his face as he smirked, tongue poking his right cheek. You felt your face go warm, and soon, he leaned forward into his mic to join Enid on the chorus. You were in awe of how well their voices went together. He knew what he was doing and wasn’t afraid to show it.

Xavier opened his eyes to see you already staring at him after the chorus. Shivers ran down his spine as he watched you sing the words to the song he wrote. Sure, many girls had done exactly what you were doing, but the difference was he knew who you were—Enid’s best friend. The girl who his bandmate never shut up about, and Xavier had been eager to meet you. He continued your minor stare-off, grinning smugly to himself when you broke the eye contact, a smile of your own pulling at your lips.

The lights had turned blue throughout the song, highlighting Xavier's high cheekbones and long face. You had to force your eyes away from him to gain control over yourself.

Once the fourth song ended, Enid spoke to Xavier before she went backstage for a break. Her shoes were killing her. Four songs of jumping around. Four songs of a game of cat and mouse to play out between you and Xavier. One would look away when the other glanced in their direction, and only thrice had you caught each other staring.

You watched as Xavier walked up to the lead microphone, his converse only feet away from you. Expecting a new song to start, you kept your eyes on the bass drum to stop yourself from looking up at Xavier. You didn’t expect him to take a step forward and crouch in front of you. Your eyebrows raised when he held your gaze, his fingers moving in a lazy come hither motion. When you pushed onto your toes, he leaned down to your ear, his hot breath on your neck. His fingers tangled in the long strands of your hair as he pulled you closer, his fingertips scorching your scalp.

“Next one’s for you.” He said. His voice was so thick you’d think this throat was lined with honey, golden and sweet, and the crowd around you faded as your ears rang. Xavier pulled away from you and used his ring-clad finger to brush the tip of your nose. Your ears went hot, and you took a deep breath to control your racing heart.

The room turned green, and for a second, you thought you must've fallen into a dream. Xavier towered over you, his teeth pulling at his bottom lip as he adjusted the microphone stand, maintaining eye contact with you. It was a sensual moment that should only occur in the depths of the night in a bedroom. His dimples and devilish smile were the cause of the butterflies in your stomach, and you had never felt under such scrutiny. But it was an illusive feeling to be the focal point of his attention.

You knew the song as soon as Xavier started playing. Tonight You Are Mine. The sound brought you out of your daze.

“This is a new song I wrote, like, last week,” Xavier said before the crowd cut him off. His soft laugh echoed through the room as the noise died down, his eyes finding yours again. “We’re gonna play it for you tonight if that’s okay?”

Enid had given you the demo of this one only four days ago, as she said it was mandatory for you to hear it before tonight’s show. The song was one she was excited to learn, and who were you to deny her of sharing her passion? So you listened. And you listened, and listened, and told Enid it was your favourite one yet. And it was. The song was wholly sultry, and you found yourself going back to it each time you put your headphones on. She must’ve passed on the news.

In a sense, I'm such a mess watching you The air is cold, so hard to breathe Still, your breath is all I see

You could hardly breathe when he looked at you like that, played his guitar, and sang intimate lyrics to you. You were utterly entranced by his voice, hands, smile. He looked ethereal on stage like he was destined to be on one.

Don't be so naive You know that you are all I see

To your disappointment and relief, he broke eye contact with you only a few times—you weren’t sure how long you could stand under his intimidating and dizzying gaze.

But, it only spurred you on more. It made you believe you also had some power in this uncharted territory. You watched him sing through your eyelashes, the rasp in his voice making you warm.

So let me slip inside your ultraviolet disguise The daylight holds you close But tonight you are mine

Xavier’s eyes were heavy-lidded as he played through the guitar solo. He knew it was inevitable that he would have to face you after the show; sometimes, the thrill of performing made him cocky. He hoped you’d still like him when you discovered he was pretty reserved when he wasn’t in front of a crowd. Yet, none of his insecurities deterred him from wanting you. Because when you looked at him like that, he needed nothing more.

After the song finished, Xavier winked at you, and you desperately needed to get out of the crowd, go outside, and fill your lungs with cool, fresh air that would free you from the irrational thoughts in your head. You didn’t know the guy, but still, you wanted him more than anything.

Enid’s voice brought you back to earth. “Thank you for coming out tonight, everyone! I hope you had a good night and liked our music enough to come back.” She laughed. It was obvious everyone in the room had fallen in love with her personality throughout the night. Enid carried herself with such self-assurance it was difficult to find why you wouldn’t like her.

The only thing that could pull your eyes away from her grand smile was the burning on your cheek. Your eyes flickered to Xavier, who stood off to the side with his guitar. His hair was now tied back in a half-up style, and you swore your knees almost buckled.

As everyone filtered out, you remained in your spot. Enid came bounding over and jumped down to stand with you. “Did you have a good time?” You could see she was nervous to ask.

“Of course I did! And you played my favourite song,” You replied, grabbing her hand in reassurance. Enid smiled sheepishly.

“Well, I didn’t play it. Someone else did.”

“Well, someone told the other someone to play it, so.”

Enid wiggled her eyebrows, her voice dropping to a whisper. “I saw how he was looking at you. I knew he would like you, who wouldn’t?”

You rolled your eyes, heat rushing to your cheeks.

“But, you’re still off-limits. Only until he gets over his ex. That wouldn’t be fair.” Enid rambled before she stopped and straightened up. “And that’s my cue to leave.”

You looked at her hesitantly, unsure why she would be saying that. “What?”

“Bye, Y/n. Hey, Xav." Then she pointed him behind you. "Don't fuck this up." You assumed he made a face at her from behind you because then she laughed and walked backstage.

You’d never felt your stomach drop and your heart rate speed up in such synchrony. He was the devil in converse and a white tee.

“Y/n.” Your name on his lips was something you could get used to.

“Xavier.” You said, turning to face him.

“So you do know me.” He was taller than you. A lot taller than you assumed, and it made your legs weak. “I was under the impression that you only knew Ajax.”

You shrugged. “Enid mentioned you a few times, so I had to come and check out these band guys she was hanging around.”

“Final verdict?” Xavier’s mouth was pulled into a smile at the corners.

You purposefully took your time to make a decision. Taking a step back, you sized him up. He stood still, arms crossed over his chest as you eyed his hair. You rubbed your chin in false thought and then nodded.

Feeling bold, you looked him in the eyes. “Yeah, you’re cute. And talented. So, I guessed you’re alright.”

Xavier’s cheeks were dusted with pink as he laughed. You smiled proudly, pleased you got the reaction you’d wanted from him.

He then moved closer to you and leaned down so his eyes aligned with yours. “Well, I find you alright too. How’d you feel if I asked you to hang out in about…” He twisted his mouth in thought, his eyes flickering down to your lips. “Half an hour?”

You bit the inside of your lip in habit. “That would depend on what we would be doing.”

Xavier stood to his full height with an unconcerned expression as he uncrossed his arms and opened himself to you. “Whatever you want. My treat.”

You tilted your head, studying him. “Tempting.” His lopsided smirk and tired green eyes were too easy to fall for. “But, yes. I would like that.”

His lips slipped into an easy grin and he nodded, throwing this thumb over his shoulder. “Sweet. I’ll be back in half an hour to take you on our date.” He winked.

You shook your head, laughing as he stepped up onto the stage. “Not a date!”

Xavier didn’t turn back to face you as he replied. “We’ll see!”

Were you in too deep too quick?

⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . * ꙳ ✦ ⊹

songs mentioned: - tonight you are mine - the technicolors - swoon - beach weather - monodrama - benches

feedback is greatly appreciated! thank you for reading <3

PART 2

#xavier thorpe oneshot #xavier thorpe imagine #xavier thorpe #xavier thorpe x reader #xavier thorpe x fem!reader #guitarist!xavier #wednesday imagine #wednesday fanfic #Wednesday

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kazbrekkerscrutches · 2 years ago

Text

Xavier Thorpe - Take my hands

Warnings: Mention of burial, dark humor(like at one place), overall fluff, scratches

Words: 1.8k

GN PRONOUNS

Trope/Context: Reader is antisocial, not related to Wednesday Addams, but is the MC (storyline modified), Childhood friends to lovers <3, slowburn (A/N: One of my favorite tropes lmao, enjoy!)

Black settled into my room. Not the usual morning sunshine.

Rain and clouds.

Ever since I got to this school, nature has been turning darker and darker everyday. My own room, shared with dear Enid feels even more hollow than usual.

“You have to wake up, Y/N!”

“Yes Enid, you could wake up the dead with that perfume you spray on everyday.” I replied snarky.

“Rude.” I watched her get out of the room after I took off the covers from me.

I liked her, maybe it was a secret to anyone in my life, but I do like her. She is nice. Probably the nicest person you could ever meet that doesn’t kill people for fun.

My visions have been more intense recently. Anything I touch makes me afraid that I will discover something about it. It is scary; that pleasant feeling of being touched by a live wire, but not every minute of everyday.

For some obscure reason, I could not get a certain person out of my head.

Not Enid, you may ask, but a certain seer.

Xavier.

It is not for the usual teenage gossip type of thinking. He is my prime suspect as of whom the beast may be. The Hyde. The hidden Jekyll.

Everything about his behaviour, timing, thinking seems to fit so perfectly. Too perfectly.

“Thing. Please write something to you know who. Don’t make it cheesy. Make it brief.”

I turned my head to look at Thing only to ear a thumbs up from him. Well, that may be good enough to talk to a hand.

As I walked to go to class, that darkness felt even more closer. Like it was following me from behind my back. It felt like a tick was tickling my brain, to try and tell me something.

I arrived in class, only to find Xavier sketching something in his book. I approached silently only to find him adding shading to a cello.

My cello.

My instrument.

My brain cannot deal with this right now.

“Hi Y/N, always a pleasure seeing you around.” Xavier turned around, offering me a warm smile. That turned something in a stomach. Good? Bad? Weird?

I’ll take weird.

“Felt inspired by my serenade?” I offered him my signature glare, looking over his shoulder to see his drawing.

“Truly inspiring.” He turned back to his drawing, leaving me behind him.

Those scratches on his neck, so curious. No wonder he is my primary subject.

“Stop glaring and sit down. I don’t bite.” He whispered. I snapped out of my mind, sat down besides him.

“I do like biting.” He looked up from his drawing, my Y/E/C eyes. His beautiful green eyes. He smirked a little bit before Ms. Thornhill started her class.

I don’t know what I was supposed to feel. How I was supposed to feel. Yes, he is my prime suspect but he saved me from Rowan. He was always somewhere, lurking in the shadows. My shadow not longer felt like one.

[Flashback]

“Help! Please someone help!” I heard screams coming from the casket. Hell, did that boy’s godmother come back from hell?

That thing did not sound like a women. More like a boy. I moved around the purgatory only to find a big red button with STOP on it.

“Ridiculous.” I pressed on it; the coffin stopped its way into the pit of fire. I opened the coffin only to find the boy. We were supposed to play hide and seek.

“What are you doing in here? This isn’t a place to hide” Xavier looked up at me with weary eyes.

“I thought it was original. Thank you though.” He got out of the coffin, still towering me with his height.

“You lost.” A smirk appeared on my face and we both walked away to back out there.

[Present, time skip]

I was wondering where Xavier had run to. He always abandons me for some random artistic calling of his. Thing appeared before me, updating me with some desperate news.

He handed me the note I had mention to give to Xavier.

Awn, Y/N Y/L/N has feelings for me.

Cute, though I know Thing wrote that.

Meet me in the cabin. 9 p.m.

Xavier

Weirdly, I felt my heart beat way faster than it normally should. I feel ill, not in a pleasant way, terrible ill way.

“I will end you, Thing.” He apologized immensely before pointing to something around the place.

He pointed the note, which looked like it was covered in some kind of dust. I did not look like dry paint or led dust. Ashes. How thoughtful.

He must know that I am suspicious of him; that I think he is the Hyde.

The darkness settled again, as if it was telling me that I was wrong; that my track was far from where I was headed. I pushed it away, snapped a glace at my clock only to find the time running fast. 8:51 p.m.

I have to go. Hopefully I make it out alive, and sane.

[Xavier’s art studio]

I knocked two times.

I’m hilarious, I’m aware.

“My favorite dead body has arrived!” He almost screamed as he opened the door.

He was wearing a red shirt, hair still damp and sweatpants low on his hips. As much as I hated to admit it, he had some sort of effect on me. I suddenly felt hot, uncomfortable in my own skin. I almost felt a smile creep up on my face.

“Tad bit dramatic.” I snarked, passing through him and the door. “I hope those weren’t you godmother’s ashes you sent.” His clean and fresh scent filled my head. Comforting.

He turned to me, closing the door behind him. He leaned on the door frame, crossed his thin long arms around his chest.

“Maybe, maybe not.” He looked at me dead in the eye. “What did you want to talk about?” The paintings surrounding me were dark and were all filled with the Hyde’s face. I had never actually been in here before but he caught me trying to get in.

“What is it of the Hyde that captivates you so, Xavier?” I turned around every wall to have a better look at his artistry.

“I keep having dreams about it. The only way I can get it out is by drawing it, even if it ends up with me getting scratched by my own drawing.” I snapped around to look at him rubbing his neck. There were three long scratches along it. I had noticed.

“Do they hurt?” Is a question I never thought I would’ve asked in my entire life. He tilted his head, approached me softly. He towered me even more than I would’ve thought.

He bent down to whisper in my ear. “Why aren’t you asking if I did this to myself?” He bent a little; looking at me dead in the eye.

“You have no reason to do this to yourself. I know you.” His gaze softened.

“You don’t think I’m the Hyde, then?” Shoot. He figured it out.

He stayed right where he was and I did not give him the satisfaction of fear or yet defeat in my eyes.

“Prove me you're not the Hyde, Xavier. Tell me I’m wrong.” I almost pleated, blinking endlessly.

“How can I prove this to you, Y/N? You are stubborn yet so deep into your theories.”

“Where were you when Eugene was attacked? If you tell me, you were here, and not wondering in the middle of the forest, I will believe you and drop this.” I sighted. “Please, tell me you weren’t out there.”

He stared almost blankly into my eyes. He stood up straight, passed his hands into his long hair and turned back to face me. “Take my hands, seek your answers.”

I could tell he was disappointed that I had asked him that. I dropped my bag on the floor, approaching him as slowly as he was.

His touch felt comforting and warm against my feverish skin. My head pulled back as I felt myself going under.

…

I woke up only to find Xavier hold me in his lap, passing his fingers in my hair softly, still holding one of my hands with his.

“Did you get your answers?” I nodded, proving to myself that he was not the Hyde.

“I’m… I’m sorry I doubted you. I shouldn’t have. You were the only person loyal to me, maybe except Thing.” I sat up from his lap, looking at him, both of us sitting on the floor of his Art space.

“Don’t be. We aren’t ten anymore. You know I’m innocent and I would’ve never, on my godmother’s grave have hurt all of those people and I think you may know that better than anyone.” Thunder roared behind us, I still felt his hand on mine but I did not pull away.

His Adam’s apple bobbed down a couple of times, as he looked at me deeply in the eyes.

“What did Thing tell you, in the note?” I nervously swallowed, his presence making me feel like a hormonal teenager.

“He told me that you, missy, have the biggest crush on me but is way too shy and antisocial to tell me. Is that true?” He tilted his head a little, making his hair brush his cheek.

I felt my own heart rush out of my chest. Thing was not lying.

“Thing isn’t lying.” I whispered lowly, tilting my head down. He reached his hand to tilt it back towards him.

As we were still close, he bent down to reach my ear, breathed in, and out making shivers run down my back.

“I hope you liked my godmother’s ashes or shall I say charcoal powder in the reply note.” He paused. I smirked slightly against his fiery skin.

“I like you too, Y/N.” He didn’t pull away but tilted my head once again towards him; making me look at his lips, green eyes, soft yet strong features.

I breathed shakily and leaned towards him. I felt his lips brush my own before he softly placed his lips upon mine. Electricity ran through me, with the satisfying after burn which was my heart heating up.

The darkness I had felt slowly pulled away, leaving my soul, and leaving at a certain state of peace.

His hand was soft against the skin of my cheeks, his lips soft yet delicate and passionate felt incredible on mine. He pulled away only to do it again, and again, and again.

I pulled away after a few second, feeling my heart flying like a hummingbird. “Not so bad?”

“Not bad at all, incredible if I must.” His gaze lightened, as he pulled me to kiss him again.

Two teenagers kissing on the floor of an art studio, two childhood best friends turned into…

Lovers.

#xavier thorpe x reader #xavier thorpe #wednesday #wednesday 2022 #wednesday series #wednesday netflix #xavier thorpe x you

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throneofsapphics · 1 year ago

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old faces, part three

Rowaelin x f!Reader

Summary: you and Rowan meet again, and deal with the fall-out of your secret.

Warnings: violence, descriptions of violence, death, minor injury, drinking

Word Count: ~5.3k

A/N: more rowaelin in the next chapter! coming late tonight/tomorrow if everything goes according to plan

series masterlist

True to their word, you didn’t see Aelin or Rowan before their departure yesterday. Fenrys came by once, letting you know they’d spoken to the future Emperor and Empress, and that they’d be keeping an eye out for you. You never saw them, but you sensed their presence. It brought a small bit of comfort. Not enough to let your guard down.

Overwhelmed. That’s how you felt. Ceri and Ani seemed thrilled at the ‘new adventure,’ even more excited it was a secret, that they couldn’t tell anyone exactly when they were leaving and where they were going. Reya had been a mixture of contemplation and excitement but you - you were an anxious mess.

New challenges, and more exposure you couldn't avoid. You were nervous for Ceri, above all. Nervous about how she’d be treated, about what this meant for her. At least she’d have her best friend with her. The vague plan was to visit a few different parts of Terrasen, starting with Orynth, and if the trial went well, it would be a group decision on where to settle.

“You’re nervous.” Reya commented, you shot her a look and she held her hands up in a placating gesture. “Have you decided what to do with your home?”

Home. A pleasant surprise in your mother’s will. A home you fully intended to keep in the family. But, Reya’s asking if you’ll rent it out or not. It would be easy to let magic seal it up, but if you rented it, you could deposit the money into a bank account and leave you with a fund if you ended up back here.

The last week had been a gods-damned whirlwind, giving you barely a moment to rest. Liquidating your assets, downsizing, late nights finishing up projects, informing vendors you’d no longer have goods available, pulling the girls from school, and more.

“Renting would be a good option,” you finally replied. Reya nodded, she was doing the same thing - and you trusted her sister to take care of both properties - for a fee of course. At least there was someone you could trust.

“They’re going stir-crazy,” Reya commented. You could see it too, the frustration on their faces at being cooped up. “The park is right around the corner.”

“It’s risky,” you hesitated.

“We all need it.”

You couldn’t argue with that, or with the excitement on their faces as you told them. Still, you slipped a trusted knife into a sheath under your dress. On the way, Reya reminded them to keep their ‘adventure’ secret. To answer ‘I don’t know,’ if anyone asks questions, and to inform the two of you. No chances.

There were a few other women there you vaguely recognized, and children both Ani and Ceri sprinted towards. They climbed over the various obstacles, running around and making up different games. Ceri, of course, took the lead in organizing everyone, directing them like a general. What would Rowan think if he was here? Probably pride. And maybe alarm at just how wild his daughter ran. Her Fae heritage let run and climb faster, and it took away a certain sense of self-preservation.

“Will she be immortal as well?” Reya murmured quietly.

“Most likely,” you admitted. Maybe in a selfish way, you really hoped she would. If you had to watch her grow old … you shoved the thought to the back of your mind. There was enough to worry about for now.

Three hours later, the two of them exhausted enough energy to start asking for dinner, and agreed to leave. The break was good for you, the fresh air and walk in your city calming your nerves. Another chance to see it - your shelter and safe haven.

Ceri held your hand on the twenty minute walk, chattering about the games she’d played, her enthusiasm and joy confectious. Ani was doing the same to Reya in front of you.

Just around the corner, the hair on the back of your neck pricked. Something was wrong.

“Reya,” you called, voice just drifting over the wind, laced with warning. Her head swirled, the whites around her eyes showing and you mouthed; act natural. Letting your senses take over, you listened in for movements, for heartbeats, for whatever the hell was out there.

A magic you didn’t recognize was present, and probing at the wards on your home. A male, mortal, magic wielder. Across the street, but still too gods-damned close. You needed to get inside, to get into safety.

Throwing up what you hoped was a discreet shield, you kept your pace and body language natural as you approached. First thing you learned; don’t let them know. But, Ceri had picked up on it, her hand tightening around yours, head on a swivel. Quickly, you spared a glance at her; trust me, you tried to say, and she gave you a small nod. You prayed you’d show yourself worthy of that trust in the next few minutes. Maybe some of the emperor and empresses ‘eyes’ were nearby. But, no sense in hoping or relying for something that might not be true.

Thirty paces away, male disappeared, cloaked from your sight- but you could sense his location. Reya fell back with Ani to walk next to you. It was Ceri they were after, and that brought lethal focus to your mind. Let those instincts rise, the instinct to protect your family and friends.

Ten paces, Reya’s nerves were showing but she kept herself loose, putting her trust in you.

Everything happened within a minute, but each second dragged on. You had the seconds to shove them back behind the gate, throwing the wards up. Reya knew to drag the girl’s inside - Ceri’s yells and shouts echoing in your ears. If you went in as well, there wasn’t anyone to stop him from trying to shatter the magic, and you couldn’t do shit from behind them.

The bits of training you picked up over the years came into play, the glint of a knife in front of you, and you thanked the immortal reactions and senses you’d been born with - gifting you an advantage. A knife flew to your shoulder, you dodged, shifting again as he threw another - shallowly slicing across your cheek. You palmed your one fighting knife, the pain fading into the background, and slashed across his forearm, severing his tendons. The dagger clattered, metal echoing off the cobblestones, copper scent filling the air.

He spat a curse, and you danced around each other, before landing another slice. Blood spurted from his arm in rivets - eerily like a fountain, and you heard the whistle.

An archer on the opposite roof, gesturing to the side. They needed a shot that wouldn’t risk hitting you. You hoped they’d leave him alive - you had several questions for him. They got their shot a second later, and you watched as an arrow lodged through the man’s skull, his body flopping to the pavement in front of you. So much for your questions.

You prayed Reya had shielded their view.

A plain-clothed guard was there in seconds, and you let your back hit the wall behind you, adrenaline still coursing through your veins, and used your dress to clean the blood from your knife. It was ruined anyway, a little more blood wouldn’t make a difference. The strange sense and scent of death filled the air as slid it back into your sheath, focusing on one movement at a time, keeping yourself grounded.

You tried, you really tried, not to hate Rowan in that moment. It’s not his fault, not his fault he’s the father. He’d mentioned the target, the risk and dangers, but it hadn’t quite set in until that moment. Stupid, you were stupid for leaving the house. If anything, it was your fault. By some miracle, none of your neighbors were peeking their nosy heads out.

Reya’s muffled voice came from the garden. Gods, she must be screaming at the top of her lungs for you to hear her. You turned, giving her a ‘thumbs up.’ It felt childish, considering someone had just threatened your lives, but she returned with a tense smile, one arm barely holding back a furious Ceri. Ani tucked behind her, head just poking out.

“I’m fine,” you mouthed to your daughter. She signed back - you were a bit surprised she remembered that language, it had been a while since you used it.

You’re bleeding.

Not my blood. I need you to keep Ani calm.

Give her something to do, a task, and she’d focus on it. Sure enough, it worked and she tugged her friend back inside.

The guards had multiplied, at least seven of them on the surrounding street now. And - a certain blonde haired male sprinting down the street. Fenrys stood by your side as you answered all of their questions. The magic shielding the house behind you didn’t waver, not for one second.

“You should get that looked at,” Fenrys murmured, as the body was carted off, a small crowd dispersing, and one official-looking woman promising updates.

“Hm?” Your eyes flicked to him. He gestured to your cheek, to the cut already healing.

“It scarred.”

The small sting had faded to the back of your mind. Frowning, you ran two fingers over your face, an angry raised red line. That shouldn’t be there, not unless … you crouched to the ground, snatching the same knife that cut you.

“Iron,” you murmured.

“Still shouldn’t leave a scar,” Fenrys took a step closer, eyeing the weapon.

You twisted the blade in your hand, surprised the guards hadn’t already picked it up. Marks etched into the handle, marks you recognized.

“He was a magic wielder,” you had his full attention now, “it’s not … cursed, but enchanted to leave a scar.”

Your fist white-knuckled around the handle. He meant to mar your daughter.

“Can you let us inside?” Fenrys requested, distracting you from the pure wrath filling every inch of your body. The guards had finished their questioning, some now obviously stationed down the street - another archer joining the previous one.

You willed the magic to bend slightest bit, enough for the two of you to slip inside, before slamming it shut again.

“How soon can you be ready to leave?” Fenrys’s voice was insistent. You had a feeling he’d drag you to the ship soon if he had to.

“Aren’t we traveling with you?”

Fenrys nodded, and paused for a moment. “Can you be ready tomorrow by dusk?”

You’d wrapped up the last of the ‘official’ business this morning, intending to give you a week to sort things out at a leisurely pace. But, words were too much right now, everything was too gods-damned much, so you answered with a nod. By tomorrow would be stressful, but doable.

“We’ll leave then. I’ll announce we’re leaving at dawn the day after.” Smart, giving a false departure. “Only us, the captain and the crew will know, and they won’t know who it is until we board,” Fenrys continued - maybe more to reassure himself than you. Part of you wondered why he was going through the effort but … Rowan was his bloodsworn brother, maybe he felt some kind of duty to the two of you.

“How’d you get here so quickly?” You asked the question lingering in the back of your mind.

“I didn’t. I was already on my way.” Fenrys’s mouth opened, and you could read the next word,

“Say sorry and I’ll kick you in the balls.”

He winced, and feigned sealing his mouth shut.

The door slammed open, knocking into the wall, and Ceri sprinted out, silver hair flowing behind her. You braced yourself as she slammed into you, arms wrapping around your stomach.

“I kept Ani calm,” she whispered, squeezing you tighter.

“I’m proud of you,” you ran your non-bloody hand through her hair.

After a few minutes, she released you. Her small hand reached up, and you stayed still as she ran a finger on the scar. “Why would he do that?”

When you hesitated, Ceri turned to Fenrys, as if he might have the answer. Her green eyes nearly bore a hole through his head.

“Sometimes people do bad things and we don’t know why,” he answered slowly, “but everyone’s safe now.”

“What happened to him?” She turned back to you.

“He died,” a small tension left your chest - she hadn’t seen it.

“You killed him?” Her head tilted, no judgment - just curiosity and a desire to gather all of the facts.

“No, I didn’t,” you anticipated the next question, “and neither did he. One of the royal guards did.”

Ceri mumbled something suspiciously like; I wish I killed him, and grabbed your hand - dragging you back inside. You shot an alarmed glance at Fenrys, whose mouth curved up at the corners. Seven years old, and already bloodthirsty. Maybe you should’ve questioned what kind of bed-time story Rowan told.

“Just like her father,” he murmured, quiet enough only you heard.

An inelegant snort left you, “I was thinking the same thing.”

Reya’s eyes scanned you from top to bottom, and you were aware of the blood staining your skin and clothes.

“Ceri,” she called, gaining her attention, “can you help me run a bath for your mother?” She looked at you for permission, you forced a soft smile, watching her take off after your friend, Ani’s dark hair flashing as well, never one to be left out.

“Are you going to insist on spending the night?” You didn’t look at him.

An edged chuckle, “I'm afraid I will.”

“Males,” you muttered under your breath, but shot him a grateful smile. Another set of eyes, another person to watch out for Ceri. Not that you’d get any sleep tonight. Reya returned a minute later, shoving a bundle of clothes in your hands, ushering you off towards the bathing room.

Ceri was proud of the rose scents she’d chosen. Once, you’d loved Lilac - but you shedded that when you left Wendlyn. It hadn’t felt right anymore, it felt like an old version of you. The female left behind. Plus, it made you nauseous during your pregnancy.

Fenrys didn’t leave for the rest of the night, entertaining the girls as you and Reya cooked, helping with the dishes, a perfect guest. Even with a spare room available, he insisted he’d crash on the couch closest to the door. He didn’t comment as you exited your room each hour, traveling past the sitting room to peek into where Ani and Ceri slept, both sound asleep.

You caught maybe two or three hours of sleep total, but pure adrenaline kept you going the next morning. It spurred you and Reya into near-frantic packing, listening to Fenrys’s request to stay put when he left for a few hours. One small trunk each, plus one extra for books - your personal ones and school books. Everything else ended up in the attic, sealed off by magic. The tears stayed at bay as you deactivated the wards, dropping off the keys to Reya’s sister - who was informed less than an hour before, and vowed herself to secrecy. Everything about this felt so … cloak and dagger. Ceri and Ani viewed it as some grand adventure, but you and Reya were tense, entire bodies taut with nerves.

With twenty minutes to go, you closed the door to the bathroom, hands bracing on the counter. An angry red scar ran diagonally across your cheek, still slightly lifted from your skin. If you adjusted your hair, just a bit, it mostly cloaked it from sight. Another permanent reminder.

A nondescript carriage, made less discreet by armed guards, picked up the five of you just after sunset and took the long way through the city. It gave you a chance to see everything gaze through the window, making out a few details by moonlight. There’s no telling how long it would be before you see it again. Maybe a year, maybe a decade, but one day you’d at least come back to visit.

Not a permanent goodbye.

Fenrys ushered you onto the ship, joined by a few others you didn’t recognize. Soldiers, disguised as courtiers. Or maybe soldiers turned courtiers.

“Did you send word ahead?” You murmured, the captain directing you to a spot still on deck, but out of the way. The girls bounced with excitement, barely managing to keep themselves still.

“No sense in it,” Fenrys countered, “we’re on the fastest ship available. It would probably get there after us.”

You learned quickly what fastest meant. Magic wielders were on board, the ‘soldier-courtiers.’

Most of the first day was spent holding back Reya and Ani’s hair, convincing them to take some of the nausea tonic you’d brought with you.

The second day, Fenrys showed Ani and Ceri some more advanced self-defense.

The third day, the girls had convinced the sailors to tell them stories.

The fourth, you rolled dice and made bets - Fenrys sharing his liquor with you.

The fifth, you thought you might lose your mind of boredom - until Fenrys dragged you out to see how much self defense you knew. According to him - better than expected. He quickly added a ‘not surprising,’ considering who your father was. That particular detail, you usually forgot about - or tried to.

The next several days passed in similar fashion, interrupted on day eight by Ceri trying desperately to convince you to shift to your animal form - then to teach her to shift to her animal form. It’s too dangerous at sea, you told her. When it didn’t work with you - she moved to Fenrys, who repeated your words, adding that she needed to be a bit older. After that, she gave up, thank the Gods. The last thing you need is to rescue an adolescent bird from the water.

On day twenty, you spotted land. The first look at Terrasen. Mountains, still snow-capped in the summer, green forest, a small city. Illium, according to the maps you’d acquired. Then, you’d cut into the Florine river, taking you right to Orynth. Where you’d reconnect with Rowan and Aelin, and figure out what comes next.

According to Fenrys, it’s normally a two week journey, but they dragged it out enough that the five of you would arrive closer to the expected time, after the rest of their court did. He declined to inform you of that until a few days before.

“Will they know we’re coming?” You asked, propped up against crates, Fenrys stretched out next to you, tan face tilted up towards the sun, Reya on your other side, Ceri and Ani a few paces away, playing a card game they learned the night before.

A genuine friendship had formed between the three of you over the last few weeks. Fenrys could’ve easily ignored you, but instead he sought out both of your company. The girls attached to him as well, eagerly taking in all of his lessons, pestering him with questions about Terrasen, all of which he answered patiently and thoroughly.

“Depends,” he turned to shoot a lazy grin at the two of you, “on how much chaos Aelin decides to cause. It’s been a while since she surprised anyone, I wouldn’t be shocked if she convinced Rowan to keep it a secret.”

Gods, you tilted your head back this time, letting it rest against the top of the crate. There’s a chance you’d arrive to Orynth, the entire court with no fucking idea who you were, who Ceri was. It had the potential to be incredibly awkward, or hilarious. You refused to stress over it, it was out of your hands for now.

Their court gathered to discuss the results of their visit to the southern continent, as planned, arriving earlier that afternoon. The scouts reported the ship carrying Fenrys and company would arrive tomorrow after dusk - perfect timing for a discreet entry. But … two days early. That unsettled both her and Rowan. There wasn’t a good reason for them to arrive early, especially without any kind of notice. Although, with the crew they had - any notice sent would likely arrive after them. Instincts told her something went wrong, and she saw it echoed in Rowan’s face. They tabled it for later. There wasn’t anything they could do until they saw them. Until they had a chance to launch questions at Fenrys.

Aelin wouldn’t call it a fight, but she’d argued with Rowan over whether or not to tell their court about their surprise.

“At least before they arrive, Fireheart,” Rowan sounded exasperated.

“At breakfast, then,” she wound her arms around his neck, tilting her head up to grin at him. Tomorrow, they’d be here, and she was looking forward to your company. Aelin thought she might feel jealous of the connection you shared with Rowan through Ceri, but she didn’t. Instead, she wanted to be your friend - there was something soothing about your company, and she saw why Rowan grew … close to you. Even before she met the two of you, he’d been upfront about how you traced the line between friends and lovers, how you both knew it was a temporary arrangement.

Her mind tried to tell her it was wrong that she felt this comfortable with Rowan being near an ex-lover, that her Fae instincts should be rearing with territorial jealousy. Thankfully they weren’t - otherwise it could make their current situation very difficult.

“Should I be the one to make the announcement?” Rowan pressed a kiss to her hair.

“I’m much better at them,” Aelin gave a smile, honeyed with false innocence.

“You’ve given us enough surprises for a lifetime,” he muttered - but she knew he’d follow her lead. As much as he denied it, Rowan didn’t mind shaking everything up once in a while.

“Evangeline will be excited,” she pressed up on her toes, placing a kiss at the corner of his mouth.

“She’s much older,” he murmured.

“I imagine she’ll take them under her wing.” Aelin pulled back to watch Rowan’s face. Nervous, her mate was nervous, one of the few times she’d seen him like that. It was oddly endearing. She was nervous too, of course, but it was … refreshing to be nervous over something not quite life and death.

She decided now was the wrong time to remind him they’d be able to explore different parts of Terrasen - to decide where they’d want to live after Ceri’s ‘trial.’ If they stayed in Terrasen.

Rowan sensed her shift in mood, and tilted her chin up to look at her. “It’ll be fine.” Aelin forced air in and out of her lungs, and nodded.

“Bed,” he muttered, and tugged her off towards their room.

“What is it?” Aedion sat down his glass, looking between Rowan and Aelin. Rowan kept his mouth shut, sending a pointed look at Aelin. She wanted to make the announcement, she could do it. “Please tell me you’re not planning something,” Aedion groaned.

“It wasn’t planned,” Rowan muttered before he could stop himself.

Aelin’s foot stomped on his insole, and he pinched her thigh under the table.

Aelin propped her forearms on the oak wood, and everyone’s attention turned to her. Their entire court was here - minus Fenrys. Ren, Aedion, Lysandra, Evangeline, Elide, and Lorcan - who wouldn’t let Elide go anywhere alone.

“We have some guests arriving with Fenrys.”

“Who?” Lysandra asked, lifting a glass of water to her lips.

Fuck it, Rowan could say this for himself..

“While we were in Antica, I ran into an old … friend,” Lorcan’s eyes dug a hole into his skull, and he avoided his former commander’s gaze. “I have a seven year old daughter.”

Lysandra yelped and shot back as Aedion spewed water across the table, Elide’s eyes were wide, Lorcan looked contemplative, Ren and Elide blinked several times, Evangeline - as Aelin expected, looked thrilled.

“Ceri, Rowan’s daughter, her mother - y/n, her friend Reya, and her daughter Ani will arrive this evening,” Aelin cut in. Rowan caught Lorcan’s gaze as soon as Aelin said your name. Dark eyes flashed in recognition. Interesting.

Aelin continued to explain the deal they’d come to. His wife even asked if they’d be willing to let the group explore living in their respective lands, conveniently mentioning some of your skill sets and how you’d been open to working here.

“Gods, Aelin.” Aedion sighed at the end. “And Rowan,” he added, ignoring his glare. “A little warning would’ve been nice.”

Still, he had a contemplative look on his face. You’d done the same thing his mother had - to protect his daughter from Maeve. A silent understanding passed through them, that Rowan was getting the chance Gavriel didn’t, that he’d honor it.

“How did she go … undiscovered, in Antica this long?” Ren asked cautiously.

“Well, Sartaq suspected there was a Whitethorn relative living in the city, but as Fenrys said,” Aelin ignored the elbow he discreetly jabbed into her side, “Rowan has an army of cousins - there were plenty of possible sire’s.” That drew a few chuckles and eye rolls.

“She wasn’t going to tell you?” Elide pushed.

“We don’t know.” Aelin said honestly. It was luck … or fate, that he ran into you during that trip. He had a feeling your paths would’ve crossed eventually, but the timeline was pushed up.

“I’m surprised she agreed that quickly,” Lorcan said.

“It wasn’t safe in Antica, anymore. There were already people gathering outside their home.”

“It won’t be completely safe anywhere.” Lysandra replied, “but it’s safer here.”

“Considering who her father was, I imagine she can handle herself,” Lorcan drawled. Aelin’s brow furrowed, and Rowan frowned. He hadn’t shared that, it hadn’t really struck him as particularly important.

“Are you going to explain?” Elide pinned him with a look, and Lorcan - firmly on her leash, kept talking.

“Her father was a skilled warrior. He mated to a demi-Fae from Antica, met while visiting Varese, and finished out his military service not long after,” Lorcan said, adding “he declined the blood oath for centuries, eventually Maeve gave up on him,” as an afterthought.

“Was?” Elide asked quietly.

Lorcan looked at Rowan, almost asking for permission to share this part of your story - or giving him the chance to. He wondered how Lorcan knew, when it took him a lot of convincing to find out.

“Her parents died when she was young,” he made a point to meet each of their eyes. “Don’t push her about it.” His warning tone was enough that nobody, even Aelin, pushed the question further.

Rowan remembered enough to know how you locked up at any mention of their lives and deaths, how it took a decent amount of liquor to pull any personal details out of you. One night - after you’d had a good amount of particularly strong brew, you spilled.

For some reason, Rowan had a fixation on knowing your story. He wanted to know everything he could about you. A terrifying feeling, but he didn’t see the harm in learning, gathering information was a habit built over centuries. Even if this particular story wasn’t pleasant. If it involved you, he wanted to know. Learning your fathers name surprised him, and as soon as you said it - he didn’t know the story, but knew how it ended.

“They bought me time. There must’ve been nearly three hundred of them - mortal soldiers,” one Fae warrior was as good as a hundred mortal soldiers, but against those odds, against three hundred …

“They hit them both with Iron first, and my mother made me promise to run for the hills - told me if I came back I would be dead, and then they would win.” Rowan kept his face neutral, but inside he winced. That was a harsh way to put it, but effective. “I made it to the hills, and hid in a tree. But … I could see everything. Eventually, they were overrun. I watched the whole thing. They spiked their heads on our fence posts, but left the house intact. For seven days, they waited to see if someone would come back. I still don’t know why.”

He did, her father had built a reputation, and wiping out his entire family line would’ve been a prize to them. He didn’t tell you that.

“After I was certain they were gone, I buried them, took what I could carry, and left. I’m still not certain what happened to the rest of the soldiers. Maybe twenty were left by the end.”

Rowan knew. Lorcan hunted them down. Made a brutal example out of them. By the time he opened his mouth to tell you, you were already asleep.

“We could use more women - and females, around here,” Lysandra switched the subject with a grin.

“What’s she like?” Evangeline asked.

“We didn’t get to spend much time with her, but we’ll find out.” Aelin answered.

Time. Rowan would take full advantage of every second he could spend with Ceri. He’d missed too much already.

The ship steadily made its way up the river, your eyes glued on the surroundings. Terrasen was … absolutely beautiful and different than anywhere you’d seen before. Snow, that would be new to you. The sun was setting as you approached the city, steady but slow.

“We’re going to arrive after dark,” Fenrys said, arms propped on the railing next to you. “More discreet.”

You hummed in appreciation before your mood sobered. “Everything’s about to change, isn’t it?”

“No need to be so dramatic,” he tutted, nudging you with his shoulder. “But yes, it is.”

With three hours left, you all disappeared below decks to try and make yourself as … not stinky as possible. As you were making the final approach, Fenrys offered you a small flask. Alcohol - but the scent was barely detectable. Could easily be explained as time spent on a ship. You shot him an incredulous look.

“Liquid courage, they won’t scent it on you.” You stared at him for a few moments, where had he gotten that? “If you don’t want it,” he reached a hand towards it, but you snatched it back - tipping a small bit down your throat. Just enough to take the edge off. You wiped the droplets off with the back of your hand.

“Thank you,” you handed it back, and watched as he took a drink himself.

“For solidarity,” and something else he wasn’t telling you. You decided it’s not your place to push.

It certainly took the edge off as you pulled up to the docks - a carriage waiting to take you right to the castle. It was a comfortable fit with all of you. The two girls pressed their faces against each window, although with the sun already set - they couldn’t see too much.

You knew they got closer, because Fenrys’s shoulders rolled back, his body tilting forward to look out the window. “A few more minutes,” he said. It felt like an hour, but it likely was less than a twenty minute ride. As you approached, each clop of the horse's feet, each turn of the wheel, each small murmur from a driver, all seemed to thunder in your ears.

“Breathe,” Reya whispered next to you, and you forced air in and out of your lungs. You could do this, it would be fine. Ceri’s excited. For her, you reminded yourself. So she can have a father, so Rowan can be a father. For safety. Everything would work out, and you for her, it didn’t feel like a sacrifice. Since you felt her little life growing, you knew there wasn’t anything you wouldn’t do for her. This is no exception, a bit of discomfort you could survive. You’d adjusted before, and you would again now.

Reya grabbed your hand in her own, for her comfort as much as yours, and the two girls squealed as the gates groaned, the carriage passing through. “A better world for us,” she whispered - so low you barely heard it, but squeezed her hand in reply. A safer place for Fae, a place for Reya to find some peace, new things for your daughters to experience.

A hand thumped on the carriage, and Fenrys swung the door open. You breathed in through your nose, out through your mouth. You could do this.

#throne of glass fic #rowaelin x reader #poly!rowaelin x reader #rowan whitethorn x reader #aelin galathynius x reader #rowaelin x y/n #poly!rowaelin x y/n #aelin galathynius x y/n #rowan whitethorn x y/n #throne of glass x reader

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rowanwritestoomuch · 2 months ago

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How to Create Your Own Symbolism

with rowan

gather round children, I want to tell you about symbolism.

The wall isn't always blue, but when it is, what does it mean to you?

I often see young writers (and even some of us veterans) using symbolism in the most banal ways, simply because they believe they have to. The world said 'we think this thing means such and such' and the writer feels confined within that analysis.

But to be blunt, what if we weren't so anal about it?

What if we, the author, got to decide what exactly a certain motif, a certain quirk, a specific flower, a sound, a sensation, meant more than what it does and it meant exactly what we wanted it to?

We do this through research, as all good things are done. Recently when setting up a scene in my current work, I explored the symbology of flowers for my original plan, and I inserted flora that I was familiar with and felt right. Then I realized I live in Michigan and my characters are standing in a field in Georgia. Oh boy, what a mess. So it was that we must find out what exactly blooms in Georgia, in this particular month (being that of early August). I looked for a long while at various photos and descriptions, percipitation charts and spreadsheets about bloom patterns, and when it was that I found several flowers that aesthetically pleased me, I created a bouquet in my mind. I wanted this scene to encompass the characters in the somber beauty around them. But where to begin figuring out what these flowers mean?

We look first into the meanings that other people lend to these things. We ask the florist 'what does it say when I hand someone a frond of grey goldenrod? Is it different from early goldenrod?' and the answer may surprise you with its affirmative yes. We may consult the spiritualists, 'in what context of ritual do you place this flower on the altar of worship?' and we can consider the metaphor of their response in our own character's interactions. We look to the biologist and we say 'how does this flower exist within our world? What are its strengths--- its weaknesses?' and we ask our characters the same thing.

We then look into ourselves. Can this information we have collected be arranged and placed and fed to the reader in a way that describes what I want to portray? Will I remember to continue to weave those threads, that lasting impression, throughout the text? Does it speak to me with the same rich voice that a symbol should?

Bringing all of this together, before I choose the symbols I was going to use in finality, I reflected on my text. Did the appearance of this blossom fit the color language I have used so far? Will it remind the reader of earlier moments, of foreshadowing I have previously set down, of events that have brought our paths into this moment? Will it be jarring, in the revelation of what deeper meaning I have placed upon it? Will that shock be what I desire?

Often I think we don't ask enough questions, or perhaps, we are not guided to which questions should be asked in order to inspire us. Anything placed within a scene can be a symbol. Make it memorable, make it unique. The walls are blue because she is sad, and we see that throughout the entire body of the text, and never do we forget that those walls are closing in, they are weeping, they are longing, they are cold, they are solitude. The breadth of the text remembers that. And perhaps, in your own way, blue can be happiness, it can be light, it can be like the air, or the calm ocean, or the perwinkle opening its petals to dawn. If only you decide.

Always remember, write because it hurts if you don't.

until next time.

#rowanwrites #creative writing #on writing #writeblr #writing advice #how to write #rowanteaches #writers on tumblr #writing tips #ao3 #symbolism

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garf-lover96 · 3 months ago

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happy anniversary to me and Julian :3 a few months ago i made a post that i will write a fic for the occasion and i DID and i reached the character limit in my google keep note because it was that long. it's almost 4k words!! that's how much i love him guys!! i don't know how i suddenly went from writing little 1k fics to this monstrosity but i'm happy with how it turned out🤞🤞 it's under the cut because it really is huge and also disgustingly mushy, be careful!!.....

i should start titling my fics or something but i don't really want to.. maybe they'll get their titles somewhere in the future

———

Rowan sits in the palace parlor, half sunken into the soft pillows of the sofa. His hand raises to pick at his lips, before the magpie on his shoulder screeches at him and he's forced to drop it back into his lap. The countess sitting across from him chuckles softly and speaks up for the first time in a longer while.

"I do agree with Bluebell. You're much too anxious about the whole situation." Nadia imparts and takes a small sip from her teacup. The magpie seems smug at the fact someone's agreed with her.

"I know, I know that... But are you sure the gift isn't too small?" Rowan asks and starts unconsciously picking at his nails, earning him another loud screech.

"A ring of all things is an accurate gift for an anniversary, I assure you."

"He doesn't even wear jewelry, this is silly..." he mumbles out and rubs his face with a frustrated huff.

Seeing Rowan's distressed expression, Nadia sets her cup down and walks over to sit down by his side. The man straightens up a little as she places a gentle hand on his shoulder.

"Can you tell me what this is really about?" she inquires with a slightly raised eyebrow.

"Maybe it's just... A commitment thing..."

"...Could you elaborate on that?"

"I just mean- Are promise rings the right amount of commitment? Will he think I'm a hypocrite for giving him a ring when I've previously told him that I don't want marriage-?"

"...Dear, do you hear yourself?"

Rowan is about to start picking at his nails again before Bluebell hops down into his hands and he begins to preen the bird instead.

"I sincerely doubt that Julian would even be capable of such a thought. That is, when it comes to you, at the very least."

"I guess..."

"Rowan, I'm certain that Julian hasn't changed his mind on that agreement. He'll love those rings." Nadia assures, carding through his hair gently and putting unruly wisps back into place.

Sighing softly, Rowan rests his head on her shoulder, her fragrant perfume calming his nerves "I know how silly I sound, I'm sorry..."

Nadia chuckles fondly "This is quite an important milestone for you, it's natural to be nervous about it. Especially since this is your first time celebrating a relationship anniversary."

She glances down to notice that the man is now squeezing Bluebell's body rhythmically. Not that the fluffed up bird seems to mind, she seems a little drowsy in fact, as if she's entirely used to it.

"But you know, if you're this worried that I can't imagine just how troubled Julian is. Remind me when do you have to head back?"

Rowan's eyes move towards the big clock standing in the corner of the room. "In a few hours... And yeah, he's probably spiraling right about now. I bet he got me something beautiful though..." he says and smiles softly.

"Would you like to take a stroll in the garden? You could use some fresh air to relax before your rendezvous."

"Yeah, let's do that... Thank you, Nadia." he nods before reaching over to finish his cold cup of tea.

~~~

Portia stumbles through the streets of Goldgrave, Malak constantly pulling at her sleeves, leading her somewhere. She was really hoping to get some garden work done before the raven showed up and caused a big ruckus. All she managed to deduce from the urgent croaks is that Julian apparently needs help with something. The bird dives down to pull on a strand of her hair once more.

"Give me a break! I told you already, my legs aren't as long as Ilya's-" she yanks her lock back from Malak's talons with a small grunt, "Ugh, if you want me to bail him out again, I swear he'll be going to his little date with a black eye."

She's a little confused when the bird perches on top of her head not a few moments later.

"We're stopping? But this is..." she trails off and looks up. This is undeniably the building where she's watched her brother's stage performances before. But why would he be in the community theater of all places today? She makes her way through the entrance and soon enough she can hear some distant labored grunting, followed by a loud frustrated yell. Malak takes off from her head and flies further through the corridor, then audibly crashes into something with a thud.

"Where were you? I was starting to think you've abandoned me." Julian can be heard talking to the raven the closer Portia gets to the backstage. When the scene comes into view, her jaw drops a little.

"You're stealing a piano." Portia's tone isn't questioning in the slightest, somehow this does seem like something he'd do.

Julian straightens up and whips around to face his sister with a mortified expression "Stealing- I'm not stealing, this is a perfectly legal operation! And what in the world are you even doing here?!" his gaze shifts to the raven sitting on top of the said piano "I told you I don't need any help! Traitor..." he huffs hopelessly and leans against the instrument. The longer Portia looks at him, the more she notices just how exhausted he looks.

"...Don't tell me you were trying to carry a piano all by yourself. Where would you even bring it?"

"It's a gift, Pasha! I spent months trying to renovate this old thing so I could give it to Rowan! He's been taking those lessons from Nadia and he's already so good... I wanted him to have a piano of his own at home." he whines out and runs his gloved hand down his face.

"What- Why didn't you tell me that earlier? I obviously would've helped!"

"Because- Because it's my responsibility! I got the gift so now I have to carry it home! And it's fine because I'm sure you have your own chores to do today and I'm strong enough to drag this thing back to the shop myself. Thank you for your concern." having said that, Julian pushes the piano forward and it makes an outrageously loud creak as it moves against the wooden floor.

It makes Portia grimace. She can't bear the thought of the piano being massacred like this any longer.

"Stop! I'm not letting you drag it on the ground all the way there. You'll just ruin it, idiot." she grumbles and walks around the instrument, managing to get a pretty good hold on it from one end. She shoots Julian a meaningful look, urging him to grab the other side.

He sighs in defeat before quickly laying his discarded coat over it and they manage to lift the piano off the ground together. It makes Malak croak in surprise but he doesn't move an inch. Manoeuvering it through all the corridors leading outside is hard work, so they take a break once they've carried it out into the street.

Only when the daylight reaches the piano can all the intricate details finally be seen. Portia runs her hand over the carvings depicting a bunch of wildflowers and animals. The fresh coat of varnish makes the instrument glisten in the sun.

"And you're telling me you're just allowed to walk out with a piece like this? This must be worth a fortune!"

"A fortune is what I spent on getting it into proper shape... The exterior might be beautiful but the insides were all jumbled up. Not that I know much about pianos... I spent a long time trying to find all the necessary experts to fix it." he huffs out again and rests his elbow on top of the instrument, swinging his hand at Malak to shoo him off of it "Ride's over, I'm not letting you scratch it up..."

The bird relents and moves to perch on Portia's shoulder as she circles the piano, her eyes boring into the insane details. She brings the fall board up so she can see the keys as well.

"...Oh my god, is this ivory?"

"Uh, I'm pretty sure it is, yes. It's supposed to be durable, thankfully none of the keys were missing-"

"This is the kind of stuff they have at the palace!" she exclaims and looks at them in awe.

"It's- It's not too much, right? Will he think I'm out of my mind for getting him a piano with ivory keys...?" Julian suddenly seems a little less confident about his present than a second ago. But before his sister is allowed to answer, his eyes dart up and he winces when he notices the sun's position.

"Drat, look at us just standing around here, we don't have much time! We might have to take those tight shortcuts..."

"Maybe we won't have to if you just grab onto the piano, Ilya..."

"Right, yes!" he squares his shoulders, quickly stepping over to take the lead in the piano-carrying assignment. Once they both get a secure hold on the instrument again, they lift it up and start walking through the streets.

In this situation getting some surprised stares from people is inevitable, but Julian is not concerned with that at all. Instead, he keeps glancing up, clearly stressing over whether they'll be able to make it to the shop and carry the gift inside in time, before Rowan returns from the palace.

He glances behind briefly to notice that Malak is still comfortably rested atop Portia's shoulder. Then he speaks up, slight concern apparent in his voice. "Malak, friend, do you think you could check up on Rowan? Er, just to make sure that he's not going to be inconveniently punctual."

The bird seems mildly inconvenienced at the fact that he has to leave his place snuggled into Portia's soft hair but doesn't need much more convincing. Leaving some stray feathers behind, he takes off into the air. Without the ravens frequent croaking, there falls a silence between the siblings. Portia notices Julian's tense shoulders and can't resist to tease him a bit.

"...You know, maybe he will think you're a snob for the ivory keyboard."

"Pasha, don't stress me out!" he yells back at her, trying to hold back a smile at the sound of her jesting giggle.

~~~

While in the air, Malak obediently stays in pursuit of Rowan to distract him if needed, but shortly after spotting him on his way out of the palace, he notices the man seemingly taking the scenic route anyway. Hopping his way along the roofs, the raven notices him stop somewhere in the corner of the town square.

Hugging his knees to his chest, Rowan stares down at particularly stout, shiny beetle. His familiar jumps towards it again but he stops her with an index finger, poking her away.

"I told you it's too fat for you to eat. I don't want you to choke, sweetheart."

A grumpy screech.

"...I'm not going to cut it into pieces either. There are people here."

Another screech.

"What? I'm not tempting you! Can't I just stare at a bug in peace for a moment?" the tension between his brows increases a little as he keeps his eyes on the beetle "I'm not nervous anymore, I just need a second, okay?"

Bluebell hops forward and flops onto her back, trying to distract Rowan.

"Your little baby tantrum won't fix anything, you know."

The magpie seems offended now. She opens her beak threateningly...

"No, hey, don't you dare do that-"

A series of deafening screeches tear through the square as Bluebell tries to put a stop to Rowan's overthinking in her own way. He scoops her up from the ground and starts shushing her frantically.

"Stop screaming! We can go to the shop, you can take the stupid beetle, just don't make a scene!"

She stops immediately and wriggles out of his grasp to pick the beetle up by one skinny, squirming leg. It makes Rowan frown a little.

"...Just make sure to chew it well, please." he mutters and finally continues walking.

~~~

Already inside the shop, the Devoraks try to carry the piano up the stairs and not fall to their deaths in the process. A firm boot planted on the creaking step, Julian pushes forward as Portia leads the way, carefully climbing backwards.

"Just a few more Pasha, you've got this..." he reassures and angles his head so that he can see the short corridor the staircase leads to.

With a series of collective labored groans they manage to pull the piano onto the top floor before almost collapsing against it.

"Now that's a workout! Gosh, I barely feel my calves... And hands... And..." Portia trails off, raising her hand to pull her damp with sweat hair away from her face.

"I think I was seconds away from breaking my spine there..." Julian gasps and quickly pulls his gloves off of his hands, throwing them onto the piano "Just one more... Curve... I swear I'll get you such a nice thank you gift, you're the best sister in the whole wide world..." he seems to be getting a little teary-eyed but he quickly composes himself for the sake of the mission.

Portia seems to nod acknowledingly at her brother's emotional speech as she tilts her head to look downstairs at the sound of slight tapping "I think Malak's back..."

Julian turns around and observes as the raven wanders into the shop through the back door, his talons clicking against the wooden floor. He caws a few times which makes Julian grimace.

"Alright, I have no idea what that meant but I will assume that Rowan is already near... Are you okay to keep going, Pasha?"

She gives him a quick thumbs up and shakes her hands off, then grabs onto the piano as if she didn't just drag a half a ton instrument up some very steep stairs. Carrying it into the bedroom doesn't take near as much work as all the previous routes but once it's sitting in it's designated place, the siblings just slide down to sit on the floor for a short moment.

"You were right, you're always right, I wouldn't have managed without you, Pasha..." Julian weeps out and quickly pulls her into a hug.

"Yes, you would've been dead a hundred times over if it weren't for me." she wraps her arms around him with a grin, feeling just a little lightheaded from all the carrying she did today "I should get going, don't wanna disturb you loverboys." she snorts and pokes at her brother's waist.

"Ah, allow me to escort you then, dear sister!" he gets to his feet—his back cracking loudly—and upon wiping a stray tear from his eye, he pulls her up by the forearms "Good to stand?"

Portia nods. It's a careful walk back down, both of their legs are still quite wobbly after the endeavor. Upon opening the door for her sister, Julian is surprised to find a spooked Rowan on the steps just outside. He staggers back a bit as it suddenly opens.

"Oh, Portia...? What are you doing here?" he asks with growing worry on his face at her disheveled state.

She just smiles and dives in for a hug, making the magpie on his shoulder startle and fly up to the rafters instead "All will make sense in a jiffy! Enjoy your date!" with one last squeeze, Portia takes off, turning around to wave goodbye.

Locking eyes with Rowan, Julian promptly pulls him inside and up into his arms with a beaming smile "Lover, you're here at last!"

"Julian-! I wanted to- Why... Why is your shirt soaked...?" Rowan stares at him with a confused expression, his feet still awkwardly dangling above the ground as his partner holds him.

"Ahaha, I promise to freshen up before our dinner... But what were you going to say?" Julian inquires with a smile and sets him down gently.

"I, uh, wanted to give you my present first because I thought about it way too much and... Just wanted to get that off my chest, you know? Is that okay?" Rowan squeezes Julian's hands gently, looking up at him with an unsure smile.

"Yes, more than okay! I'm dying to see what you thought of."

"Should we go upstairs-?"

"No! Not... Not yet. We, er, can go sit down in the back room, if you'd like."

Rowan widens his eyes with surprise again but doesn't mind going along with the idea. Once they're seated next to each other, he speaks up again "Before you see the gift, I just wanted to say that... Even though we already had that conversation about whether we ever want to take our relationship to the 'next stage' and came to an agreement, I still wanted you to have some kind of confirmation, I guess... I know how important that is for you and I really wanted you to know that I'm very, very serious about this, so..." with one trembling hand and a soft sniff, he fishes out a small pouch out of his vest's pocket and unties the thin string around it. He can feel Julian's eye boring into him as he works on opening it.

"...Hold out your hand, please."

Julian obeys and gives him his hand, palm facing up. His smile is bright with anticipation until Rowan twists his hand gently and takes it into his own instead. A shiny, sliver ring comes into his view, with what seems to be a small, green gemstone embedded in the middle. His jaw drops wordlessly as his partner slides it onto his finger. He inhales a bit before Rowan stops him.

"Don't say anything yet! Just a second!" he quickly reveals a second, matching ring, with the same design as the first one, but the colors seem to be different. It's gold with a red gemstone. Rowan holds it up to the one that's already on Julian's hand.

"These represent us, see? I had the gemstones switched so that the green reminds you of me but you can still wear silver. Ah, and- And you don't have to worry about your gloves either! Yours is actually adjustable so- You can wear it whenever you want!" he raises his eyes to check on his partner's reaction and his nervous smile softens when he sees some tears already streaming down his face, along with a huge grateful smile. Julian takes it upon himself to take the matching ring and slide it onto Rowan's finger before pulling him into a very tight hug.

"God, you really thought of everything... Thank you, love, they're so beautiful-" he voice cracks just a little before he buries his face in Rowan's hair, who's already exhaling in relief because the gift did turn out to be a success.

"There's just one more thing, actually." Rowan gently dries Julian's teary cheeks and makes him look down at their hands again "I'll let you do the honors. Touch one of the stones, hm?"

Once he gently taps his own ring, the other one lights up in a soft glow. It makes Julian gasp softly "This is the single most romantic thing you've ever done, I'm pretty sure."

"I can think of a few more... And it's a simple enchantment, really..." Rowan mumbles with a shy smile, still observing the rings that are finally in their rightful places.

"I'd love to just stare at these forever but... Now I really want you to see what I got for you. You're going to love it." he lowers his head to leave a sweet kiss on Rowan's lips before helping him to his feet.

They walk up the stairs together until Julian covers Rowan's eyes in front of the entrance to their bedroom. It makes Rowan tilt his head in confusion a little.

"Just keep walking, darling, I've got you."

"Yes, okay..."

They stop in the middle of the room and Julian makes Rowan face the direction of his gift.

"Are you ready?"

"I hope I am." Rowan answers with a small chuckle. When Julian's hands drop from his eyes to his shoulders, his eyes settle on the piano at last.

His reaction is a little delayed, but once it kicks in, it's nothing like Julian's controlled few sobs. He bites down on his lower lip and absolutely breaks down. The thick tears streaming down his eyes make it hard to keep his eyes on the piano. It makes Julian worried for a split moment.

"Er, these are happy tears, yes? You haven't given up on the art of music, right?" he asks and steps in to take Rowan's face into his hands as he keeps sobbing loudly. He only manages to nod firmly and pull him into a hug to keep crying into his shirt.

"A whole fucking piano... You're absolutely insane..."

"Now, there's the reaction I was waiting for! I was a tad worried that you were just pretending to like it." he remarks cheekily and runs his fingers through Rowan's hair gently, "I should mention that I couldn't decide on what little bench I should get to go along with it so we can go buy one tomorrow, if you'd like. There's a ton of colors of the cushioning to choose from, apparently."

"Damn it, I should've bought you a vielle instead... We could've been playing a duet right now..." Rowan weeps, attempting to dry his face while the tears just keep flowing.

"Oh we'll play many duets yet, dear. And anyway, you can get one for me on our next anniversary."

"And let me guess, to upstage the piano you'll get me a boat next year...?"

"Oh shush, don't spoil it!" Julian rolls his eyes playfully "We'll have time to talk about the future during our dinner which we don't want to be late to, eh?"

"Yeah, future... We should start getting ready." Rowan wipes is eyes into his sleeve and pulls Julian's face down gently to kiss him "Happy anniversary. I love you."

"I love you too, Rowan. Happy anniversary."

———

according to my screentime app, i spent 2 hours on this yesterday ALONE and almost 12 hours in general during the past 2 weeks. waow❤️ i have a drive

AND FUCKING TUMBLR POSTED THIS WHEN I WAS CLICKING "SAVE AS DRAFT" I SWEAR I'M GOING TO GO ON A RAMPAGE

#garf lover96 creation #the arcana #julian devorak #the arcana apprentice #rowan

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acourtofthought · 1 year ago

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But what does that mean, exactly?

The ribbon was a test to see if someone was ready for something.

If you can complete the test, you're ready for more. No matter how quickly you accomplish it.

Gwyn is completely focused on accomplishing the task.

Gwyn not only achieves exactly what she set out to to do (going so far as to practice when everyone else is sleeping) but...

She achieved with a warriors spirit and didn't treat it like it was just a game.

So then what does it mean when Nesta tells Az he's Gwyn's new ribbon?

Az and Cassian laid down a challenge for the Valkyries, then he and Cassian stood off to the side smiling when they knew it was going to be difficult for them to achieve. But it was only Az that Gwyn taunted in response.

Nesta didn't say the obstacle was the new ribbon, she said Az was which to me means that Gwyn will be approaching him with the same determination she did the ribbon.

First off, we're told that it doesn't matter how quickly something is achieved, when you're ready you're ready "even if they'd only been training for a little while". That's for all the Gwynriel haters who claim she couldn't be ready for a sexual relationship when it's time for her book because of how "kinky" Az is.

Second, Az is closed off, he really doesn't open up to anyone (even Cassian), he believes no one could accept his darkness. There's a line that says only Mor was able to get Az to say anything after badgering him. So Gwyn, with a single minded focus when it came to the ribbon, is not going to be put off by Azriel's challenging and quiet nature. Gwyn doesn't care how difficult something is, she's not deterred and she'll get him to open up one way or another.

Third, though she's competitive and enjoys taking on the challenge, she doesn't treat it lightly. She didn't cut the ribbon and break down into giggles as if it were all just a game. She was serious about having achieved what she set out to do and continued her pursuit of wanting to become a Valkyrie.

Lucien once said of Jesminda:

She had teased him, taunted him—seduced him so thoroughly that he hadn’t wanted anything but her.

I know people try to twist the Gwyn narrative, that her singing has lured and seduced the good guys but that is NOT how SJM writes the best friends of her main characters. It was clear from the start that Ianthe wasn't a true friend to Feyre. It was obvious Maeve wasn't likeable from her first moments on page.

Az chased Mor and he was the one to initiate the near kiss with Elain (I'm pretty sure she would have never taken control of the situation with him) but SJM likes the girl in charge for the first time. Feyre initiated her first kiss with Rhys. Nesta grabbed Cassian and pulled him to her. Rowan waited for Aelin to kiss him and we have the same with Quinlar. Lucien's POV clearly demonstrates he enjoyed Jesminda's pursuit of him.

"Seducing" a love interest isn't a bad thing in certain context, in ACOMAF, Feyre wonders why Rhys never seduced her with looks and smiles (and Rhys was a SA victim too). She wanted that from him. So Gwyn pursuing Az doesn't make her evil, it makes her 99% of every guy's dream, especially one who has never had a female chase after him.

Az might be Gwyns new ribbon, she might be the one to taunt and tease him and maybe she'll be the one to pursue him (especially when we know Az is aware of her history) but Gwyns character has shown that she's not flighty. She commits to something and once accomplished, she focuses on how to get better.

By the end of SF, she is still committed to becoming a Valkyrie as it's confirmed Az and Cassian compiled a list of things they did wrong in the Rite.

If Az is Gwyns new ribbon, there's little chance she's not going to succeed 🤷

Elain might have had a real crush on Az or maybe she was just trying to prove to herself she could feel something for someone other than her mate (It's doubtful she's not drawn to Lucien though I think she's trying to pretend she's not). But in the end, she easily walked away from whatever happened on Solstice and there was zero indication it was a struggle for her to do that (versus the very obvious tension filled reactions she and Lucien have toward one another).

It's not that Elain isn't capable of fighting for someone and she's definitely a worthy someone to be had but we're not going to see it until she's with the right person. And the author has already made it clear which of the two females is going to be all in with Az.

#pro gwynriel #gwynriel #acotar mates #pro elucien #gwyn acotar #azriel x gwyn #gwyneth berdara

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mariaofdoranelle · 9 months ago

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The Courtship Deception - Part 3: Curtain

Fic Masterlist

Written for @throneofglassmicrofics

Warnings: moderate alcohol intake

Words: 923

“You can’t hide behind the curtains all night, Princess,” Fenrys said, both of them in the kitchen staff area while Aelin peeked at the party from behind the wooden doors that separated them.

Aelin sighed and smoothed her hands down her black silky dress. Her father thought that arranging this huge party was a good way to “rekindle” something with her suitors—she tried to argue that she dated Chaol for a month when she was eighteen, and never even got to call Dorian her boyfriend, but Rhoe was as dense as a rock, completely blinded by the prize that came after the wedding.

Not that Aelin would marry either of them, but her father didn’t know that yet.

She didn’t know most of the people attending this party, though she knew some names or at least remembered seeing them at some point. They were Rhoe’s guests, even if the party was initially planned for Aelin. She scanned the crowd, trying to find a familiar face, until she found a remarkably singular silver head.

Aelin stiffened, her heartbeat faster as she recognized this particular guest. There was no way he could be here.

“Fenrys.” She lightly tapped his arm. “Go get me a drink.”

The second his back was to her, Aelin turned around, that silver hair guiding her. She hated to deceive her friend like this, but as much as he liked to help her schemes, Fenrys was still her father’s employee, and they were currently being watched.

“Aelin.” A gentle hand on her elbow stopped her, and she turned around to meet Dorian’s concerned gaze. “We need to talk.”

She softened at the sight of him. It’d been a while since they last spoke, and a conversation was needed indeed. Dorian was her friend first and foremost, no matter what arrangements their fathers put them through.

“Of course, I…” A peek at her goal just to check that she didn’t lose him in the crowd. “I’m just gonna get a drink first.”

“Let me get it for you,” Dorian said, disappearing before she could stop him.

Well, at least it worked for her. Aelin politely made her way through her father’s business partners, just brief greetings so she wouldn’t lose that loner figure sitting—

“Thank Mala I found you!” Chaol stopped her, one hand on her shoulder. “Look, we—“

“I need a drink!” Aelin interrupted, voice loud and blunt. She hated to ditch three of her friends like this, but a girl gotta do what a girl gotta do.

“Absolutely.” Chaol nodded, and off he went.

Her footsteps were hurried, knowing she had three men in her tow, but the closer she got, the more certain she was that it was really him. They’ve exchanged flirty texts here and there over the phone, but she hadn’t expected to see him tonight.

“Did Fenrys invite you?” Aelin asked as she sat beside him with no invitation.

Rowan cocked his head, eyes glinting. “I can let myself in.”

“I bet you do.” She took the drink from his hand and took a sip, sending him a witchy look from under her lashes while trying to ignore the bourbon burning down her throat at the same time.

Rowan raised an eyebrow at her. “You did dodge my questions about when I could see you, so I thought I’d get my answer in person.”

She smiled, so very busted. Sneaking out to see a boy required some maneuvering Aelin couldn’t afford with her dad’s new plan and him watching her so closely because of it, but she wouldn’t disclose all that to him.

“Just so you know, I was avoiding that question because I still need to find a time I’ll get that friend of yours off my back.”

“But why?” Rowan asked, smirking. “Taking Fenrys out on a date sounds just lovely.”

Aelin had one palm supporting her chin on the table and another holding Rowan’s bourbon, not knowing where to look—to his gorgeous face or the tattoo on his wrist that his sleeve didn’t manage to cover up—when someone cleared his throat next to them.

It was Fenrys, intrigued onyx eyes focused on her, with Chaol and Dorian next to him. “Your drink, Aelin—all three of them.”

“You took so long that Rowan already got me one,” she said with a straight face, twirling his bourbon in her hand.

Chaol huffed and left, Fenrys placed her Manhattan on the table and positioned himself to watch her from a certain distance, and Dorian watched the scene unfold as if its sight held all answers he sought.

He sipped the drink that was meant for her, then raised it in a greeting. “Prince Rowan.”

Prince?

She widened her eyes at Rowan, just to watch him give Dorian a curt nod and say, “Havilliard.”

Weird. No common person just nodded at a crown prince. Aelin tilted her head, trying to make sense of it.

Rowan’s panicked look under her scrutinizing one sparked the realization, her blood racing.

She should’ve known from the unique silver hair and pine-green eyes combo; even from how Fenrys would refuse to talk about him the same way he did with his job with the Doranelle’s royal family. Aelin felt so dumb for taking days to realize it, but the Whitethorns were so many, it was impossible to keep track of all of them—from the youngest generation, Sellene and Enda were the ones the tabloids focused on.

“You wouldn’t have to keep crashing parties if you weren’t so secretive about your identity, Whitethorn.”

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I couldn’t tag the people in bold, sorry!

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#rowaelin #throne of glass microfics #rowan whitethorn #aelin galathynius #throne of glass #rowaelin fanfiction #rowan x aelin #aelin x rowan #rowaelin fanfic #throne of glass fanfic #the courtship deception #tcd

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