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freshlyrage · 1 year

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Running Like Water

Chapter 17

pairing: Javier Peña x OFC (written as xReader)

fic warnings: NSFW Explicit Smut (18+ MDNI) language, strained family relationships, mentions of drug abuse, discussions of insecurities and body image issues, daddy and mommy issues

fic tags: Best friends younger sister, Life-long crush, Friends to lovers, Unrequited love, slow burn, Push and Pull, Small Town Dynamics, Secret Relationships, latina MC, Fluff and Angst, OFC!Jessica Alba face claim, sorry Lorraine I'm bringing you into this, Time jumps, 2 year age gap, pre-canon

word count: 9.7k

a/n: Hi sweethearts, its here... part 1 of New Orleans. Enjoy and happy Kinktober.

CW: Mentions of past poor relationship with eating

Masterlist

Javier is a smooth operator, you'll give him that. He slips out of your house without disturbing your mothers tranquil slumber. You were no good either, awoken by a chaste kiss, “Call me.” he whispers at 4 in the morning before disappearing out your window. You stir, still convinced you were dreaming. You wake with an attempt at nuzzling into his chest but instead you're met with the ghost of his warmth and the sound of your mother calling your name from the kitchen.

Eyes squinted you rise from bed and immediately sit back down. Your eyes widen and flash at your bare lower half, the soreness was a bit much. You know Javier would power trip if he saw the way your legs gave out. You wince as you waddle over to grab some pants.

You walk down your stairs into your kitchen with a warm flush on your face. You last saw your mother when she practically said you weren’t welcome in your house any more and now she has a narrowed eyed glare at you when you stumble down the stairs. Two eggs cracked, both for her. Her plate ready with tomato’s right where Javier bent you over and fucked you just 15 hours prior. You couldn’t help but smile to yourself.

“Good morning.” You croak with a yawn, passing her to open the fridge for some water. Her eyes follow you the whole time, trying to read your every move. Judging bit by bit.

Your eyes drag down to the counter where the house phone goes unhooked and stretched laid flat. She must have just gotten off the phone. You ignore it, you felt like your mother was always on the phone. Always stressed about the boutique.

“You’re sleeping with Javier.”

She says it matter-of-fact. Despite being prepared for the accusation you feel your stomach flipping. You had scripted this approach and prepared yourself before you dozed off after actually being fucked by Javier Peña (for the second time).

You flare your nostrils and widen your eyes in the best acting you’ve done in years and you deliver it so perfectly, “Xavier?”

You almost want to giggle, and your mother gasps—a mixture of relief and concern. Her eyes dart to the phone and you follow her gaze. “You’re back together?” She lowers the stove heat and crosses her arms, this is her dream. Marry you off to the soldier, the well off soldier. But her reaction is less expressive, maybe I should ask who she was just calling.

Later, you think, crush her twisted dreams now, “Oh you were talking about Javi!” You laugh as if her accusation was nothing short of ridiculous. “C’mon mami.. Why would you—oh the car?” You roll your neck, let go of all the knots and cracks.

Your mothers shoulders fall, probably upset that you aren't trying to work things out with your very awful ex. You wish she knew, how horrible he was, she’d still side with him.

You never described your mother as cruel, not even when you went away to Miami, when you could’ve rewritten your story. Your mother hadn’t beat you, she never called you names and she rarely ever yelled. And she wasn’t always cold. She could be kind to you, friendly, but she could also be mean—too straight up, afraid of white lies. She never loved you much, you knew people you met in college who showed you more love than your mother had. You spent all your life alone in your own home but at a certain point you made family with others.

Yet you ached for that affection from your biological family.

You hadn't given up completely and you reached an age where you could form a relationship with your brother. Finally, he wasn’t an extension of your mother, he could form his own opinions. You could distract yourself from the cast of sadness when she stares at you too long, when she’s reminded of how you came to be. When she looks at you and sees your father.

But through her frowns and sighs you at least had Frankie. Your brother was yours just as much as he was your mothers. He took care of you, you cared for him, he was mean, he was rude, but he loved you so much he never knew what to do with it. He struggled to protect you from certain things but he tried his best. God, he isnt good at showing it but he cares. He’s trying his best, you don’t think anyone loves you as much, and he doesn’t even love you all that much so it’s a bit sad and embarrassing when you think of it.

Your mother and Frankie found common ground on most things, it was just a quirk they developed from sharing so much time together. You and your mother have never agreed on anything in your life.

There were few things the two differed. Frankie was a cowboys fan and your mother favored the Texans. She hated his long hair, Frankie promised to never cut it. Frankie would kill Javier if he found what the two of you do, your mother will kill you instead.

Frankie saw it as a situation of respect, you were his baby sister for crying out loud. He thought your crush was a nuisance at worst, but he had seen how distant you got when he left. He wanted to kill Javier when he found out he kissed you before he went away, shit he wanted to kill you too.

And your mother, she thought your crush was child’s play. She saw Lorraine and Javier, she told you once that that, the romance between two teens, deciding to start their lives together, that was a display of true love. Your mom smiled over her food as she gushed over Javier and his girlfriend. You struggled to keep your food down when you entered the bathroom.

You don’t know when she made that decision because she seemed to be very indifferent to Javier’s personal life before he left. You guessed it was when she started having dinner with Lorraine's mother twice a week. It was also paired with her not considering you good enough for the son of Don Chucho. Makes more sense now that you know she slept with him too.

In her head it was Javier and Lorraine forever, so even if you admitted right now that you were sleeping with him she would find some way to talk you out of it for the sake of Lorraine.

You explain the bar lie and she believes you without batting an eye.

Between flickered glances at the phone and at you she presses some questions about his job and if he’ll speak to Lorraine before he leaves.

Mrs. Smith is convinced Lorraine and Javier will get married soon. You try not to audibly sigh as you go on about not being sure. She nods and serves her plate of eggs, you were meaning to ask why she came home early but the bubbling anxiety of mentioning Louisiana took over.

“Javier is driving me to Baton Rouge.” You drop nonchalantly. Pushing your sex and bed head out of your face as you sit on the stool. Her fork clatters and she coughs.

She’s silent for a moment, her dark brown eyes half lidded, her nostrils flaring slightly. Just like you, you got that from her… that small tick when you’re frustrated. She only urges an e por que?

You keep it cool, you know she’ll be upset regardless. “I’ll be staying with my grandmother for the weekend. Javier has a work trip in New Orleans, I’ll catch a ride.”

She lets out an overdrawn sigh, “señor dame fuerza,” she mutters her fingers pinching the bridge of her nose. Always so dramatic, your eyes flash to the clock, shouldn’t she be in church? You’d bring it up but you know if you do she’d throw that fork at you. “¿Sabes qué? No puedo detenerte.”

Your brows raise in shock.You let a silence beat before you reply, “No, you can’t.”

She sighs, “You know I’m just trying to protect you.”

And you don’t know what has gotten into you but— “Too late for that.”

Your mothers aging eyes widen, her mouth parting slightly in shock. For a split second you feel a pang in your chest, the guilt for that second is unbearable. But who had been there when you cried so much you’d choke? Had she felt guilty when she passed your room when you cried for her affection when you were just six. Had she felt guilty then?

Her gaze falls to the plate and you twist the knife further. “I’ll be apartment hunting there too, for this coming winter.” It comes to you on the spot, you never had the intention to do so but after her “move out” suggestion the idea came naturally. Maybe it was a mixture of hope, hoping the family in Baton Rouge would open their arms to you and never make you feel unwelcome.

Her brows raise a bit and with her smallest stutter she whispers, “Bien.”

“Good.” You snap, crossing your arms.

Her eyes widened again, appalled at your audacity. “Well–I’m going to work. I called your brother about you and Javier so you might want to clear the air.”

Your mother dramatically exits like she had two days ago when she dropped the first bomb of the week. An unbearable panic explodes in your chest, you physically recoil the second she leaves. Hand over your chest, you try to bite back tears.

No–not yet. No, not this time.

Avoidant, often you call yourself that. You avoided the things that made you feel anything other than a sense of security. You’d have 7 blow up arguments with your mother a year, in reality you should have an argument a day but you often avoided that too. You avoided all things Javier when he was gone, avoided breaking up with Xavier until the very last minute.

It was just in your nature, so after a few shed tears and a coughing up the milk you chugged from your wrecked nerves, you avoided the thought of being confronted by your older brother. You avoided the idea of having to lie to his face and then somehow convince him that despite your mothers claims you were indeed not fucking his best friend but you are also heading on a completely platonic mini vacation together in just a few days.

The trait was probably your fathers. Your mother never avoided a confrontation, she’d follow you up the stairs before you physically create a barrier between you two. Frankie had been the same way, stern and a bit mean but always in search to solve the problem the second it started. The second he found out you had kissed Javier from some girl who stopped by the hair salon he drove straight to the house to talk to you about it. That was them and like most things ‘mom and son’ you just couldn't be on that same level.

With that when your mom left you alone after that bomb you had locked yourself into your room and planned your lessons for the week, completely (sort of) shutting out all thoughts of this morning.

Until 2 pm when you had gotten hungry after only drinking milk that you spat up like an infant. Your brain splitting in two when you’re met with the back of your big brother's head. Somehow feeling some more of that bile lingering and coming back up.

“Frankie…” You whispered turning the corner and into the kitchen where he sat at the island stool. His hair still long and curly, Genie had a love-hate thing with it, on one hand he had beautiful healthy curls and on the other he looked a bit shaggy with it. It was a bit 1975 of him, the denim and mustache. Him and Javier being best friends just made sense, their style never evolved.

You see his face now, in his hands is a book and his eyes aren't as angry as you feared. That scared you the most, so you began, “Gordo–” His eyes flashed to yours again, maybe calling him by your childhood nickname was a bit much. “Mami is mistaken, you have to believe me– me and Javi never-we haven’t-god, we’re not even.”

But Frankie cuts, “Did you take a psychology course at Miami.”

Um…

Your brows pull tightly, afraid of where this is going. Is he just going to ignore the whole– “Yes-yeah I did, childhood and adolescent development and psychology.”

“Did you ever read Julian Ridden, anything from him?” Frankie taps his book and places it on the counter ignorant of him, his hand splayed on the cover and then slowly retreated. Words upside down, cover a pale palm out open.

You shake your head, “No– it was more like Piaget and Freud, what does this have to do with anything? I want to talk to you Frankie!”

Well so much for being avoidant. Now that he’s here you want none of whatever he’s trying to do now, no mind games, just let me lie to you dammit.

“Ridden came up with the Being and Knowing theory about parents who grew up with out a father of their own. He says that men who never had a father figure in their life often overcompensate in the lives of their children, they know what's it like to not have a father so they become what they wished for.”

Your brows soften for a moment, the tightness in your chest shifting from the possibility of being caught to concern for your brother. You take a step closer, pulling the book towards you and flipping it. “Frankie…are you alright, I know–well I don't but I figure the idea of being a father feels scary.”

“I’m sorry for not being there for you when you were little.” His head drops and you hurry to his side, slinging your arm over his shoulders. He shook his head in disagreement. It’s okay, you murmur into his shoulder. “It isn't okay, upu had no one, not even mami. I see it now. And I know it wasn't my responsibility to play the role of your father but I could’ve been a better example of what a man should be.”

Your heart splits in two and suddenly every worry you built until now washes away, a few tears fall at the sound of something so unfortunately true. You just hated that he realized how it’s been for you, that now he’s hurt too, you only wished that this would only pain you. “It’s okay you did your best, I’m better now.”

Frankie pinches the bridge of his nose and shrugs you off, startled you wipe your own tears afraid of what outburst is coming from this, “You looked for that in Javi–I know me, your dad and even fucking Xavier didn't treat you well, Javier was there for you and I feel like I prosecuted you for that–it's fucked up.”

There it is, taking the back of your palm you wipe your brow and land your hands on your hips. “What…”

“Listen, I was too hard on you about Javier. I know that now, I get it. He left and I blamed you internally, and sure some of it was your fault but I don’t know why I lacked sympathy for you all I thought about was myself.”

You cross your arms, now he’s entering waters unknown. When Javi left your brother distanced, you had taken the educated guess that it was because he was starting his life with his girlfriend not much else. Blame me? What was my fault? For what? You bite the inside of your lip, staring down the profile of your brother's face. “What do you mean?”

His brows screw, still his gaze fixed on nothing ahead of him. “You made shit awkward, Javier never called and when he did all he wanted to talk about was you.”

Your face flushes, “I’m sorry what– Javier doing Javier shit has nothing to do with me. He’s a famously known flaker, he leaves.. Often and when he does he like chooses to not exist in our lives. That's not my fault!”

Frankie closes his eyes and exhales a frustrated one. “Obviously some shit happened before he left which I know now was him fucking kissing you, god you should’ve never let that happen Andrea.”

You mirror his angry exhale and your tears have since dried. “Oh give me a break, I was fucking sixteen and in love with him, god forbid we share a kiss. Jesus christ, it wasn't that serious, he left and stopped calling. He's here now!”

Frankie’s head snaps to you in disbelief, “Wasn't that serious? He left and you didn't fucking eat, you were never home and when you started to be healthy again you started dating that–that prick, that called you fat on your birthday dinner. You leave for Miami and you never call, you come home and you work out until you’re sick and now Javier’s home and all of a sudden you're easy going and healthy and fine. That is a big deal!”

You stood frozen in front of him feeling like an open wound. Everything you hid, all the habits you tried to keep under wraps. How you skipped the meals your mother made, when you cried embarrassed when Genie found you on the side of the road after nearly fainting from a run. You had blocked it out, avoidant, Xavier had asked if you really wanted dessert on your eighteenth birthday, in front of your brother. He sat and watched. You were at a loss of words for once, you couldn't muster up anything to say. All things were true, he was right but you couldn’t face the connection.

“I…” You swallow the lump in your throat, “Yes, Frankie, yes I struggled. But it is what it is, it’s in the past!” You just accepted that idea 4 days ago but you couldn't tell him that, no.

He stands abruptly, the chair scraping tile, “I can sympathize with you now, we’re grown up but you complicated shit and I lost my best friend! You need to take responsibility.”

“I didn't do anything wrong!”

He scoffs, “Oh please! I wasn't the best brother to you but you knew Javier would do anything for you, you knew he was with Lorraine and you still had to have him! You never saw it this way, how could you? All you think about is yourself, but he was my friend first! He was my only fucking friend Andrea and-” His finger is pointed in your face. You're so angry you could slap him but that wouldn't end well, you and your brother were never above rough-housing. The optics arent the same now that the two of you are adults. “And imagine how I feel… after all this time, all this distance to get a call from mami saying regardless of it being my only boundary you're still seeing him? Please tell me I’m mistaken, nena. I’ll fucking kill him you have to understand me–he’s my family but you’re my little sister and I’m not letting him hurt you again, I cant watch it again. ” His finger falls.

Your skin feels a size too tight at that, the nickname he gave you when he first held you in his own chubby toddler arms. The burn of little sister, his stare blown and frantic you couldn't even tell exactly what he was mad about but it seemed to all boil over. Those six years of resentment you never knew he held. Standing in the kitchen where you had the man he’s begging you to be away from, below the bathroom where he asked you to go away with him and now with wild embers in the deep brown irises of your big brother, he pleads.

He is pleading, please don’t lie to me any longer, please don’t, not Javier, anyone else.

And you feel it, the guilt, the sick twisting storm throughout your body. You feel everything at once, you feel the paternal look in Frankie's eyes, his newfound fatherhood giving him perspective on how it must have been for you. You feel the resentment in how you acted after Javi left, how you never considered how his best friend leaving burned him too.

But so selfishly you’re brought back to the feeling of being in his arms. You hate that your brain is proving Frankie's point. Javier makes you feel stable, safe and maybe it’s unhealthy but it’s the greatest comfort you’ve ever felt.

You hadn’t known warmth until then.

Come november he’ll be gone and if you're careful no one gets hurt, he leaves and your secret is kept. Frankie is your family, he has hurt you 4 times over, he passed your room when you wept and rubbed in your face the relationship he had with your mother. You loved him to death but your feelings for Javier belong to you. You’re so tired of being told how to behave.

You lie.

“I am not sleeping with Javier.” Frankie’s tense shoulders drop, and you drag on the falsehood. “Mom got the wrong idea but I told her he had dropped his car off here so he could head to the bar and I’m so sorry for fucking shit up but its…me and him are different now. He’s my…” Your eyes drop, not having the heart to look at him as you fabricate all he knows. “He’s my best friend too, he knows about my grandma, he’s taking me to see her so we’ve been spending time together.” Half true, you hadn't even brought up your grandmother to Javier but you hoped to soon. You flick your gaze upward and your brother is stone face, internalizing all that you laid out, all the deception, you feel the trust between you two chipping piece by piece.

Your grandma, he whispers to himself and instantly frowns. He pulls you close to him tightly. You stay in the embrace for long, beginning to cry in shame. Feeling sick to lie to him this way, sob while he believes it’s because of your paternal trauma.

He’ll never forgive me.

Your brother leaves and it takes a few hours of complete isolation for you to feel anything at all. Sitting with your legs crossed in your bedroom, reliving all the good and bad in your story. Trying to pin-point all the wrong Frankie has done to justify lying to him the way you did. It’s radio silence in your room as you numbly pack, each corner tucked and rolled is a reminder of all the relationships you’re ruining. You think of your mother as you pack, you think of every time you packed a bag or lack thereof.

There were few things your mother did for you. By fourteen you were made to make your own dinner, pay for your own hair cuts, and keep up with your dentist appointments. But the one thing you could always rely on with your mother was her packing skills. She’d watch you struggle and let out an exasperated sigh before shoving you out the way and taking matters in her own hands.

Now at 9 pm you feel your mothers presence at the doorway while you struggle. It’s slight, the breeze surrounding her body, you feel the narrowed eyes peeled to the back of your head, the room pulsing with anticipation.

Will you be my mother again?

The weak part of you pleads.

But she closes the door for you without another word. And it's so silly but you begin to tear up, it's done once and for all.

You try your best to sleep that night but you find it impossible. You arrive at your class 10 minutes late with the students shaking their heads when they observe the cup of coffee in your hand. Class goes as good as it could be considering it was antsy eighth graders who had failed their algebra final. Two more weeks of summer school, one more month until you make a decision on your classroom. It makes you giggle a bit being called Ms. Diaz.

Javier doesn't call you Monday night but you know it's for the better. You know once you hear his voice you’ll miss him and you shouldn't do any more secret rendezvous until your family quits the speculation. You’ll have him all weekend, you'll have him in a few days.

On Tuesday you come home from work to a stranger taking care of your baby sister. Slowly your mother cuts off your purpose in her home. Hiring a nanny named Florencia, you still pick up Sol and give the nanny a break. Rolling your R’s in her face and watching as she attempts to mock you, she gets fed up. She smiles and pulls on your hair.

You’ll miss her the most you think, sometimes she makes you believe maybe you’ll be a good mother.

Wednesday ebbs and flows, you see Javier at the market. He stops in his tracks at the end of the aisle, strangely reminiscent of when he saw you for the first time after his year away. You in your bikini top and him in his dark jacket in 7/11. This time Javier looks around for on lookers and you do the same before he stalks you down the aisle, pushing your cart away before grabbing at your cheeks for a quick kiss that has your chest heating.

He steps away from you, creating distance in case a customer comes by. No one would know how had just kissed her.

You blush profusely and before you could tease him a worker passes you with a cart and begins stocking right next to the two of you.

“My dad is waiting in the truck.” Javier blurts, you take this moment to appreciate his attire. You want to ask if he dresses up this nice every time he goes for errands, you on the other hand… how funny would that kiss look to onlookers? A fully suited Javier pressing his lips to you in an oversized flannel and denim shorts.

You nod, “Okay…”

Javier looks over at the nosy employee, the two of you knew who the worker was, he was in Genie’s graduating class. Javier rolls his tongue in his cheek annoyed with their interaction being startled and it would be far too obvious to take the conversation elsewhere. Tilting his head to the ceiling and that familiar Peña sass you're so used to. He narrows his eyes at the worker again and shakes his head. Your cheeks hurt from the active attempt to not laugh.

“I’ll see you around Andrea, you look great.” He teases, his hand squeezing our shoulder. The worker stops his stocking at that and Javier doesn't give you the opportunity to pinch him because he's walking away.

Thursday you attempt to finish packing, stomach flipping at the thought of being on the road with Javier at 5 am the next day. Ten hours on the road and 3 nights alone. You stuff your birth control in between your towel and going out dress.

Right before bed, Javier calls your home phone. You aren't given the time to say hello.

“Are you okay?” He urges beyond the line. Your brows pull tight, your eyes dart to your packed back on the floor and to your clock, 10 pm.

“Yeah…are you okay?” You laugh and to your surprise he doesn't laugh back.

“Frankie came to my house today.”

Your heart skips a beat and you sit up in bed. Fuck. “O-okay what did he say?”

“I dont know… I just, I’m so sorry. I apologized to him for writing him off but you never told me about you eating or your grandmother I’m so-”

Your ears run hot, “Oh god he told you! I’m going to fucking kill him, jesus christ Frankie”

“Andrea let me see you, I can't wait until the morning. I need you to know.”

“Javi… please. My struggle was my business and it wasn't you or whatever, I was going through a lot more than you leaving at that time. I-” Your voice dies for a moment but you continue before Javier could cut you off. “I would rather talk about this tomorrow, please Javi.”

He’s silent for a moment, a beat, in that silence your brain clicks, Oh my god I haven't even told him about my grandmother.

“My grandmother”

“Your grandma” You both say in sync but you allow him to continue. “Your fathers mother contacted you, why didn't you tell me?” He says softly.

It wasn't intentional, at least you don't think it was. You're not sure when was the appropriate time to bring it up without it seeming like you accepted this weekend trip for a free ride. “She wants to meet me, she lives in Baton Rouge. I just didn't want to feel like I was just using you for a ride.” You sigh, afraid to admit. The thoughts of maybe being accepted by your father or a grandmother or an aunt, anyone. Your breath shudders. “I know… I know it's stupid but I’m so desperate for a family Javi.” You whisper.

He lapses into another silence. In those seconds you grew embarrassed with yourself, with your desperation. You felt a pang of ungratefulness, you saying this to someone who watched his mother walk out. You think of the people who have no one. You think of your own mother whose parents passed while she was a teen. Why did I say that?

“We’ll go see her on our way back home.”

Your brows pull together “What?” You frown.

“You should never feel like you're using me, I’ll take you Sunday to meet your grandmother.” You're silent again in a space between disbelief and expectation until he pushes you over the edge. “And… I am your family, you will always have me. But I think you know that.”

Your breath dies again, your chin quivering out of control.

I love you. How desperately you want to tell him, Javi, I love you so much.

Your mother is awake when you load your bags into Javier’s truck. You hear her rattling in the bathroom when you tie your shoes, you know she’ll watch from the window in her robe when you buckle in so when Javier grabs your bags you distance yourself, avoiding whatever affection he itches to show you.

You exhale when he settles in. He looks awfully handsome today, already dressed in conference attire. A lovely fitted mustard button down and black pants, his eyes flitting down to the glittering watch on his left wrist. And he tries to lean in again and you turn your head towards the window, and he gets the message. Still mutters curses regardless and pulls out of your street.

It takes 30 seconds to be on an empty dirt road and hes dangerously leaning to bite on your exposed shoulder, “Missed you querida, taste so sweet.” He grits and your redden straight down to your chest before letting out a ticklish giggle. You wiggle your hand around his head and tug his head off of you by the root of his hair. He looks at you with wet parted desperate lips and good god, you want him to pull over but–

“Eyes on the road agente.”

His eyes narrow and he shakes away his urge and continues down the road. You roll your neck, what an awful night of sleep you've had. You kick off your sandals and bring your knees to your chest. Leaning your cheek on your knee and you admire the man next to you. Sunrise splitting the pretty green trees, creating a lovely canary colored cast on the strong of his nose and eyes. His eyes, your stomach jumps, what lovely lashes on a man. You're envious.

It's silent until you're out of town and heading in the direction of George West, his eyes side glancing at you and double takes. His right palm covers your knee and pats, “Don't sit like that, it's dangerous.” Your lip quirks and you comply, remembering when he had said the same thing on your way to Liandra’s quince six years ago. He smirks at how quickly you obey, his calloused hand inching slowly up your leg and under your dress.

Your lip is between your teeth instantly and you part your legs. Hands at the end hem of your pearl colored dress.

Eyes still on the road he drags his fingers against your thin panties, your breath hitches as your buck your hips to give him more space, instead he slips his fingers in the space below, cupping you. The bumpy road jerks your core against his palm, you gasp and he chuckles.

“Javi…” You rub yourself on his palm, your free hand gripping his wrist. Your eyes fluttering closed, feeling the ball of his palm create the most necessary friction on your clit. Your panties ruined already, he must love the feel of the wetness seeping through.

His eyes stay on the road the whole time, “Hurry up, two more minutes and we hit a town.” He keeps his cool while you unravel next to him, inching towards an orgasm at dawn. And you let go of his wrist and run your hand up over your dress, needing as much touch as possible. You grip at your breast and hump his palm faster. This, this is quite the sight because despite your shut eyes you can feel Javier’s distracted gaze. “Christ, yeah baby let me see you.” Shamelessly you pull the top of your dress down, exposing your pretty peaked nipple and thats it.

Javier is moving his hand from under you and swerving the car off road. Thankfully these backroads won't see anyone but long haul truckers at this time because you're still so disoriented from the neared climax you don't think to fix yourself up but from the way Javier puts the car in park you know you wont need to fix anything. You're unbuckling and slipping your panties off instantaneously and he follows.

Unbuckling, unzipping and pulling out his erection. And to hell with thinking twice because the sight of him aching and twitching against his shirt has you scrambling on top of him.

His hands steading you as your hand slips between you, grabbing ahold of him with his tip prodding your entrance. You sink down, you moan softly but Javi is letting out a throaty rasp. Still you aren't used to the stretch of him especially from this angle. Your dress pools around the two of you, blocking any view of your bodies connecting.

No time to get used to this position, immediately he's driving his hips into you and you're bouncing, riding Javier. His hands gripping your ass, the windows fogging as the car fills with no sounds but grunts, whimpers and slaps. His mouth open and sucking at any inch of skin, finally his mouth suctioning your breast. Your hands tugs at his hair as you make a mess on his lap, the zipper of his pants will leave a mark you just know it. And you feel it, the pit, the dizziness, he feels you clench around him.

“C’mon Andrea, make a mess on me.” He grits, and you comply once again squeezing him tightly, leaking onto his lap. You're crying in pure pleasure and at your final call of his name he’s spilling into you, warm and just as messy.

He holds you tighter as the two of you float, still blurry eyed and dazed. You catch your breath together.

Like always you're so limp and fucked out that he takes it upon himself to disconnect the two of you and adjusts your dress. Planting sweet kisses in your hair, feeling empty and gaping you find it hard to move but he does it for you once again, guiding you back to your seat, buckling you in.

And like that you sleep for the next 3 hours of the drive

“Six more hours querida… We’re in Inez… according to the map.”

You wake to his right hand tangled in your hair, supporting your neck. You take a few seconds to realize that you're curled up in the passenger's seat of Javier’s truck. Squeezing your eyes tightly adjusting to the full blown daylight, eyes darting to the time, 8:40 am.

“Oh my god, do you want to switch?” You panic, you hadn't even offered splitting the labor. The ride was nine and a half hours at the very least and even harder navigating with a map. You had never driven for longer than two hours but it seems Javier is used to this sort of commute.

His face screws in disapproval and his fingers scratch at your head. “Todo bien, you can take the last hour. We should arrive by 2, the social lunch is at 3 but we can skip that.”

You nod, rubbing your eyes letting out an annoyed noise when his hand slides away from its place in your hair. Back to both hands on the wheel, your eyes flash down to the skirt of your dress and you feel clean? Your eyes dart to Javier’s lap and he's changed into a brown formal pant. “Did you–?”

His eyes follow yours and land back on the rolling roads, he nods. “Yeah, I cleaned you up when you were asleep and I changed… not sure how I would explain to Agent Messina what the wet spot on my pants was.”

Your brows shoot high and you laugh, “Fair point…” A fleeting feeling of uncertainty brushes you at the reference to another agent. You were alright in social settings but you're a school teacher for crying out loud, you have no idea what sort of people you’re about to encounter. In your head you see yourself walking into a dining hall full of suited men whispering and beating around the bush when asked questions of their career. You picture Javier in that setting, how you've rarely ever seen that ultra serious demeanor and disinterested aura. Rarely, but you have seen it, you remember just how cold he can be when you think of him shouldering Xavier out of his way nearly a month ago. You think of how stern he can be with you at times. Why does the thought of him working such a dangerous job scare and turn you on at the same time.

“So…” You drag in between the silence, “What should I expect this weekend.”

“Well, today there's the DEA social lunch thing, they're holding it so the bell hops could take our things up.”

You wiggle your brows, “Fancy…”

“Yeah, well after that we can settle in but from 7 to 9 I have a mandatory conference with my new co-workers, Colombia co workers.” He clarifies and you nod. “Then we have the night to ourselves. The guys will probably want to get drinks but we do whatever you want.”

Your chest heats, you almost want to roll your eyes at him. “Whatever… Okay and Saturday?”

“I have my long conference, 10:30 am until 2:30 pm.”

You let out a low whistle, “Four hours, jeez. Is it top secret?”

He rolls his eyes, “Probably. Don't take it personally, you knowing I’m leaving because of Pablo Escobar is enough.”

“Yeah, yeah… and after that?”

“Right, it’ll be time just for us. French quarters maybe?”

You beam, “Yeah maybe. Are any of your office friends going away to Colombia?” The question leaves you before you can form a purpose for it. Sure you'd love to meet the friends he might've made in Houston but a small part of you worries some people there will be aware of the existence of Lorraine and they will be aware of you, not being her. Afraid of a possible awkward conversation, oh god who are you to Javi? How will he introduce you–

“I think two guys from my section should be coming along. Felipe, he’s likable and polite. Dominican guy, but there's also Julian… not a fan.” His hand goes for the cup holder, fishing out a cigarette and you narrow your eyes at him. “Will you light me?” He asks.

Still with a scalding glare you grab his light and wait for him to slip the stick between his lips. “I’m just being helpful but I don't approve.” You strike the flame with your thumb and light him up. He mumbles a thank you and continues.

“Julian is in his mid thirties, kind of upset about my age and all that. He also got into it with Lorraine at a Christmas party a few years back.”

“Oh… what happened?”

Confirmed, you're going to die. His co-workers have met his long term girlfriend and now he's bringing you… his… oh god, are they going to think you’re in some ménage à trois? You hear stories from your college friends about white collared men and their wandering hands.

Javier taps his cigarette on the window, his face wondering how to start this story. But he starts with all of it, “When I got moved to train and work with the DEA me and Lorraine were in a trying to make it work phase.” Drag, “You know she’s very outgoing but she can get real defensive when she has a drink in her system. Anyway we had argued the night before so tensions were high when I decided to bring her to our christmas party.”

Your brain flashes briefly an image of Lorraine holding your arms telling you you’re beautiful on New Year’s eve, guilt and shame bolt through you, you tune out a small portion of his story thinking of Lorraine and her kindness towards you.

“…Julian decided to comment on Lorraine’s outfit choice. I mean you know how she was, very conservative being pastors daughter but when she wanted to dress up she… you remember what she wore to New Years?"

Your eyes widen, “How can I forget!” Custom made orange jumpsuit, you could’ve dropped dead from jealousy that night.

“Well he made a comment about me letting her leave the house in her outfit.”

You scoff, “Well whatever he had coming he deserved it.” You murmur, you hated that. You know that it was typical for women to comply with what their partners want them to wear but not for your generation. That was the time of your parents, every girl now wants to dress like Madonna and it’s great.

Javier laughs, “Yeah he did… Lorraine straight up called him… and I quote, 'a lonely short man with the complex of a man who’s 6 foot'. And slapped his drink from his hand, got all over his suit.”

You burst out into a fit of laughter, imagining the face on this stranger. The two of you laugh together at the image, but once the laughs died you fell into that familiar space of trepidation. You bask in the light silence while your brain ticks off the uncomfortable feeling of missing her as a friend. The strange sting that maybe she’ll never want to speak to you again.

“Hey…” Javi calls, ashing his cigarette in the cup holder. “¿Todo chido?”

You frown, “I don’t know… it’s stupid.” Your gaze averts out the window, passing a mall and some rest stop. His hand reaches out to your knee giving it a squeeze of encouragement. Whatever, “I kind of feel guilty? I know you two aren’t together but there’s a part of me that still wants her in my life. I liked being her friend that year.” You find it embarrassing to admit but most things are out in the open now with you and Javi, you have no time to keep these little feelings to yourselves, it’s what tore you apart for so long.

Javier’s grip loosens and your frown deepens as he retrieves it entirely. You look to him this time and his eye twitches slightly, you know it does that when he’s keeping something hidden. No time for that. “What Javi.” You say sternly.

His head darts to you and back to the road, “Nothing…”

“Javi.”

“Alright. With Lorraine… don’t feel guilty. She had your mind made up about you once she started college. I think her friends opened up to what was right in front of her.”

You lips twitch in confusion, “What do you mean?”

Javier sighs, his hands gripping the steering wheel tight now. “Well… I suppose they made her realize that you were a part of our relationship failing.”

“Me?” You had no part in that, he told you they had problems before the two of you kissed, before. The whole time it was all you, your crushing and whatever. You now know Javi had feelings for you then but you thought it was a back burner issue, from the stories you’ve heard it seemed like Lorraine and him were just too hot headed to be together.

“Well me more-so but it’s easier to fester dislike for someone you don’t have to face every night, so ever since then she’s kinda built a dislike for you.”

Oh.

Your heart is stuck somewhere again, this time between relieved and sad. Sad that after all these years of being jealous you still craved being her friend, yet it didn’t go both ways you suppose. And relieved that she already disliked you instead of possibly dropping the, hi I know we were close while you dated Javier but now I’m fucking him!

“Never mind then…” You drag, “Well I’m sure giving her a reason to hate me.”

Javier shrugs, “Everyone hates us.”

You giggle although the thought is absolutely terrifying to you, “Yeah… that’s true.”

“We should talk about Frankie.” Javi pitches after your two hours of talking about everything and nothing. You groan and pull his hand to your mouth. Shaking your head you mumble into his palm.

“Can’t talk sorry.” He scoffs at your attempt and removes his hand, whatever… you murmur. “Okay… okay. You first, mine is too much.” And it was, you’d have to detail the side of your mother he may not know, tell him about how it used to be between you and Frankie and you’d have to tell him about the accusation from your mother.

Javi can tell it's eating you alive because he intertwined his fingers with yours the second the crease between your brows deepened. “He showed up to the house, I was scared shitless when he started the conversation with your name. The conversation… it didn't go the way I was expecting.” His voice is low for that last part, you comfort him this time, placing your free on top of the hold you two had. “I guess I hadn't realized how much of a bad friend I turned into once I left. I think I lost my way when I was in Houston, I pushed everyone to the side and I think the only person left without an apology was your brother.”

You recall the face your brother made the night Lorraine broke the Houston news. Despite being wrapped in your own panic your first instinct was to look at Frankie. Frankie stared off into the distance with the same face of worry he had when mama would yell at them, disassociating for a moment before Genie beams with excitement. He imitated a smile when squeezing Javier's shoulders in congratulations. When you really think about it, Javier had been your brother's only friend.

“He loves you a lot, you're his family. But we are all selfish, he deserved an apology but you cant torture yourself over being oblivious.”

And you swear you see Javier’s eyes welling, you want to lean over the console and comfort him but you leave him to it. You leave him to process, letting go of his hand. He reaches for another cigarette and you light it.

With the wrist of his smoking hand he rubs his eyes, “Okay… your turn.” He chuckles through a rasp of emotion.

You tell him all, about your father and how your mother only ever loved him and how your existence has always been a reminder of the heartache she felt that day. Javier holds onto your hand again when you tell him that Frankie was cruel to you until middle school, that he’d never comforted you, that Frankie softened up to you when Javi got in the picture. Javi couldn't believe that, it was true, no one had ever shown you kindness and Frankie attempted to follow suit. Instead it manifested in overprotection and control.

It ended with your grandmother, with your mother cutting you off and your crushing ache for– “I’ve never truly felt loved by my family, it always felt conditional. I guess I’m reaching out to my fathers side in hopes they’ll welcome me there.”

Javier stops at a red light and looks over to you. His mouth twitching in hesitation, “Regardless of what happens you will always have a family, no matter where we stand or if we hate each other in the next few months, you will never need to look for a family as long as I’m around.”

Valet, fancy.

You itch to comment when the bell hop takes your bags. You explore the lobby a bit while Javier is a few feet away from you getting directions to the lunch they were both craving so badly. You hoped you were properly dressed, it was a favorite dress of yours, it’s pearl color and your sandals had a wedge.

The lobby was lavish, mosaic tiles, gilded pillars and beautiful bouquets of flowers at every turn. And it couldn’t get any better. You look up and are met with beautiful ceiling paintings and glistening chandeliers. Jesus.

“Andrea!” Javi calls from across the room and you make your way toward him. The man he spoke to was moving away to handle business elsewhere. “Everyone’s down this hall, apparently it’s more so a cocktail hour.” You groan, hungry as could be. He takes hold of your hand, in a public space, you stomach grumbles and you can’t tell if it’s from lack of food or the idea of being like this with him. He laughs, bringing a hand to squeeze your stomach. “It’s alright, I’ll call up room service later we’re just going to show face.”

Show face indeed, the room is packed. And you're a bit underdressed, dressed for lunch while everyone in the room were suited and in cocktail dresses. Your brows raising at the sight of men with guns in their holsters. Sure you're from Texas but open carry wasn't as common near you. Then again you're walking into a room of DEA agents. Javi squeezes your hand, “My co-workers are over there.”

Through the room Javier is given nods and smiles. You are too, men and women alike smiling and nodding at you too. Ahead of you was a tall woman in her 40s with shoulder length black hair, the only woman in the room with a suit. Messina, you assume, next to him is a tall dark skinned man with short buzzed hair in a gray suit. Upon arrival Javier’s face splits into a smile and he lets your hand go to hug his coworker. Felipe, you assume.

You're left smiling and saying hello to Messina. “You look good, Vaquero.” He squeezes Javier’s waist as they part. “Missing your cowboy hat.” He jutts his chin towards Javier’s cowboy boots. Javier shook his head and rolled his eyes.

“Whatever Yank.” Northerner, funny. For a moment you feel out of place, standing at Javier’s side without a name or acknowledgement until Felipe extends a hand out to you.

“Pardon me, I’m from New York but I do have manners. What's your name sweetheart,”

Your brows raise at the sudden attention, you take his hand and he shakes it. Instinctually Javier steps closer to you. “Andrea, nice to meet you.”

“Beautiful name.” He smiles and looks back to Javier with raised brows. Javier squinted in distaste and snaked his around your waist to pull you into him. You smile down at your feet with a blush from both the compliment and also the way Javier’s hand felt so large splayed on your waist. “So…” He wiggles his brows and Javier scoffs at his co-workers nosiness.

Javier looks at you briefly, “So…” He mocks, “This is my girlfriend Andrea.”

Oh.

It's disarming the label coming from his lips, you feel a heat rise from your belly straight to your ears and cheeks. A small part of you is kicking yourself for reacting to such a label but its beautiful to the ears.

So you were his girlfriend, huh.

“Well she’s beautiful, right Messina?”

Messina smiles, “Indeed, you can call me Claudia.” She reaches out and you take her hand, cold and soft, reminding you of the hands of your mother.

“Can I call you Claudia?” Felipe beams.

“No.” She cuts and Javier stifles a laugh. You lean into Javier giggling at the interaction.

“Where’s your girlfriend Felipe, the receptionist?” Javi teases but Felipe seems to be equally as amused.

Felipe smiles, “Fiancé, she's around somewhere.”

You look up at Javier who looks absolutely stunned at the announcement, “No mames…” He drags and Felipe shakes his head. He was definitely not kidding, “Congrats, wow.” Javi blinks, his eyes scanning the room.

“This is perfect, you two could get to know each other during our meeting.” Felipe waves his finger around the air. Quickly his smile fades, “Good god… Julian coming your way. Have fun, lets go Messina, we've had enough of him today.”

And like that the two of them sip their cocktails and leave you and Javi stranded. “Fucking assholes.” Javi chuckles before Julian comes into view and Lorraine was right. He was a short man, shorter than you. His suit hung loose on his body but he was awfully handsome and muscular. Although it looked a bit silly with his stature, you smile at him.

“Javier Peña, who’s this?” He says in a far grosser and irritating way, no way near the way Felipe asked. He stood with a glass in his hand. Javier’s face falls into that face he rarely shows you, his stone cold agent face.

You speak before he can for you, “I’m Andrea, his girlfriend.” You offer your hand and he laughs condescendingly as he shakes it. Clammy.

“Girlfriend?” He looks at Javier, “This one has a far better dress, a bit underdressed but at the very least not indecent.” He elbows Javier’s side, referring to Lorraine, thinking you aren't aware of whatever unfunny joke he’s attempting to make. Javier’s nostrils flare and before he says anything he’ll regret, you cut in.

“Well you might need to head to the tailor for the pants. And the jacket lacks… a stain of booze.” You tease right back. His face drops entirely. Javier’s head snaps towards you and his mouth splits into a smile.

He grabs your arm, “Alright, she’s had a few too many, we're going to our room.” He begins to drag you away and you giggle.

“I haven't had a drop!” You exclaim and he laughs, leaving Julian in the dust as he walks you through the room.

“You're crazy.” He shakes his head concealing his chuckle as you two exit the room. The air conditioning hits you hard once you leave the bustling room. In an instant he’s hauled you over his shoulder in the hotel hall, “Alright let's go have sex.”

You shriek from being off ground as he runs in the hall towards the elevator with you dangling over his shoulder.

Back in Laredo Lorraine calls Genie apologizing about not being able to attend her bachelorette party. Genie and Lorraine had stayed in contact all 6 years, close enough that Genie had Lorraine’s name down as a possible bridesmaid.

“It really is fine, i’ll be a dud anyway I can’t drink.” Genie jokes, she told Lorraine that she’s trying to get pregnant but not that she’s actually carrying. She excuses her new dry lifestyle on not wanting to gain weight before the wedding. In reality all she’s been doing is gaining weight.

“Yeah, yeah. Alright, how’s the wedding planning going? Almost a week, are you ready?” She beams, sitting on the counter top of the apartment her and Javi shared. She had half her things packed to come home for the wedding.

Genie chuckles, “Girl, that’s none of my business. That’s all Andrea and Ms. Diaz.”

Lorraine bites the inside of her cheek at the sound of your name. She wonders if you and Javier have seen each other since he went home or if you still held that fiery personality and kept distance.

“Andrea… How’s she doing?” Lorraine closes her eyes, a bit fearful of how it sounded.

“Oh Andrea? She’s good, teaching school and all that. She’s on a little weekend trip with Javier though. She deserves a break.”

Lorraine feels her cheeks heat in jealousy.

“Are they—? You know, together?”

She doesn’t care now, she feels it’s her right to know. Genie is silent for a moment and each second that passes Lorraine is angrier.

“No, they aren’t. You know they’ve always been close.”

“Well she’s always had a crush on him though, knowing Javier they’re probably fucking somewhere… that fucking man…”

“Alright, no need to speculate.” Genie interrupts. “It’s their business, but I’m highly doubtful.”

Lorraine scoffs and looks down at her growing belly. Her brows furrowing and a sudden wave of hope.

“Right…” She flattens her hand there, “I’ll talk to you soon.”

#javier peña #javier peña x ofc #javier pena fanfiction #javier pena x you #javier peña smut #ao3 #fanfic #javier peña narcos #javier pena x reader

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maddie0101 · 8 months

Text

Skinny Love Series (Thomas TMR x FEM OFC)

Summary: the gladers throw the greenie a welcome party and the greenie can’t seem to keep his eyes off Blake.

Warnings: cussing, underage drinking

Word count: 1,705k

➭ Previous Chapter ➭ Series Masterlist ➭ Next Chapter

Blake stood beside Minho with her arms crossed as the boys lit the torches before them. Her eyes scan the area around her to try and find the newbie. "Light ''em up!" Alby yells, throwing his torch at the pile of wood stacked before them. Soon, the other boys follow the elder's lead, throwing theirs in as well. The flames grow in height and volume as it crackles and pops.

Drums beat as everyone chants, smiles plaster across the glader's faces as some boys start doing back flips. Blake smiles to herself; she loves her boys. They all had become her family, and she wouldn't trade them for the world.

When she first arrived, she had been terrified—being the only female in a place full of males, but she quickly learned they would do anything for her. None of the boys had ever really tried getting with her, considering she had informed them she would 'cut their dicks off' if they ever tried anything. The small girl always had a weapon on her also, never letting her guard down completely—that enough kept them away. Nevertheless, she loved them, and they loved her. Blake built trust and respect from the boys.

As long as they respected her, she would respect them.

Blake gazed around the grassy area in search of her missing best friend. Shifting her head in every direction—before her eyes landed on him, sitting in their favorite spot.

The girl smiles to herself, walking over to him, seeing the god-awful jar sitting in his hands. She nearly cringes at the sight of the liquid.

Plopping down next to the boy, she takes the jar away before he can take a sip. She grins as she brings the jar to her lips, gulping it down. Her eyes flick over to see the boy with his mouth hanging open in a mixture of shock and irritation.

"You shank! What the hell?" Minho scoffs in agitation.

After swallowing the liquid, Blake hands the jar back over to Minho, wiping her lips. Shrugging, Blake eyes the boy playfully as he quickly reaches out to steal the jar.

"What? I didn't drink it all?" She says, teasing the boy as she chuckles.

Minho rolls his eyes at her antics. "Go. Get. your own!" He scoffs as she attempts to grab the jar again, but he moves it away quicker, throwing it to the other side of him as she tries to reach for it.

Blake giggles at the boy beside her, caging his jar away from her reach.

A little while later, the crowd settles down a tad. The cool night air sends goosebumps to Blake's arms as she scans the area. Her head stops its sweep as she spots the greenie sitting next to Newt. The two boys lean their backs against a log as they converse with each other. Newt scarfs down his supper as Blake notices the greenie fiddling with his hands as he sits beside the blonde.

Gazing at the boy in front of her, Blake takes in his features again. His dark brown hair falling over his forehead, and his sharp jawline clenched as he toys with his hands...the veins in his hands protruding from his tanned skin.

God, that man is gorgeous.

From across the way, Newt shifts his head toward the greenie as he swallows a bite of his food. "Hell of a first day, greenie." Newt says, cutting through the awkward silence.

"Here, put some hair on your chest." The blond says as he grabs a jar from below him, handing it over to the boy beside him.

The greenie's eyebrows furrow in confusion at the brown liquid, hesitating for a second before raising the jar to his lips.

Blake watches the scene from afar and smacks Minho on his chest, making the boy jump. "Check it out, greenie's trying Gally's recipe." She laughs out, pointing to the two boys who sit against a log.

Newt grins at the boy, expecting an inevitable reaction. Sure enough, the greenie takes a large swig, coughing violently when the foul liquid burns down his throat. His hand raises to his chest as he tries to regain his breath.

"Oh my—oh my god, what is that?" The greenie manages to breathe out, pushing the jar back over to the laughing blonde.

"I don't even know." Newt giggles in between breaths, continuing to laugh. The greenie gags and coughs more as he tries to get the horrid taste out of his mouth.

"It's Gally's recipe. It's a trade secret.." Newt laughs as he looks over his shoulder at Gally and the other boys hollering, fighting in the circle.

The greenie mentally cringes at the taller boy's name. "Yeah, well, he's still an asshole."

"He saved your life today." Newt hummed in response before continuing, "Trust me, the maze is a dangerous place."

The greenie stays silent for a split second as his mind fits the puzzle pieces into place. "We're trapped here, aren't we?"

"For the moment."

Newt turns toward the runners as he lowers his jar.

"But..see those guys over there, by the fire?" Says as his finger points to the group. Following the blonde's line of sight and the finger-pointing—the greenie turns to see the runners conversing with each other.

"Those are the runners. And that guy in the middle there—That's Minho, he's the keeper of the runners. Now, every morning when those doors open...they run the maze, mapping it. Memorizing it, trying to find a way out."

Hope surged through the greenie's system at the idea that someone was actually doing something. His eyes land on the only female in the glade, chatting with Minho as she swallows a sip of the disgusting beverage.

"How long have they been looking?" The greenie wonders, gazing at the girl next to Minho.

"Three years." Newt responds to the greenie's question.

Minho's eyes flicker from Blake to the two boys in front of them, noticing a certain pair of brown eyes gaze at the girl beside him. Bumping Blake in the ribs with his elbow, the girl lets out a small yelp, jumping at the jab to her side. Blake's confused eyes find Minho's.

"Looks like Greenie has a staring problem." Minho nods to the two boys in front of them.

Blake's head slowly turns as her eyes land on the boy staring at her. Their eyes connect immediately as Blake feels butterflies tingling in her stomach.

"Newt must've told him about us-runners. He's probably just curious." Blake shrugs, playing it off.

"Yeah—curious about what's under your clothes." Minho says with a laugh, earning a slap from Blake.

From afar, the greenie watches as the two laugh at something—the girl hitting Minho's chest like he said something funny. The brunette boy's jaw ticks as he fiddles with his hands.

"Are they together?" The boy asks curiously, gesturing his head towards the two lead runners.

Newt's eyes flicker up to the greenie and follow his gesture—Of course this shank would be trying to get in her pants.

Newt shakes his head while chuckling. "Might as well be, but I don't think they like each other like that." Newt pauses his sentence as he swallows a gulp of the moonshine, cringing at the sour taste. "Personally, I think Minho has a crush on Blake, but if he does— he hasn't acted on it. Guess he doesn't want to ruin their friendship."

"Blake won't get with anyone around here. I think it's because she doesn't want conflict between anyone. Many gladers pin over her, but she doesn't want anything to do with them."

The greenie's eyes flicker from Newt to the girl as he talks. Ever since he had seen her running out of the maze, he couldn't seem to take his eyes off her. There was something about her that pulled his eyes toward her like a magnetic force.

The greenie clears his throat as he awkwardly shifts to get comfortable, finally tearing his eyes away from the female. "How long has—Blake—been here?" He asks, testing the waters of her name rolling out of his mouth.

At first, he had heard Newt say her name, talking about her being a runner. The blonde had mentioned Blake had tried the exact thing he did, sprinting toward the maze on her first day, but the greenie had thought Newt was referring to another boy. Since 'Blake' was usually a guy's name. So he had thought nothing of it.

"Two years, she came up the box a few months after I got here. We were all surprised when a girl came up. Thought they would eventually send another up, but to this day, she's still the only one." Newt informs the boy beside him, who still fiddles with his hands.

Newt breathed out a sharp laugh, remembering Blake's first day. "Gally went to get her out of the box, but the first thing she did was sock him right in the face." He said, chuckling at the memory.

Newt had watched the girl as they opened the doors to the box; she laid on her back clutching her wrist—looking terrified. As soon as Gally jumped down and grabbed the girl—she punched him, making the rest of the boys die with laughter, including Newt.

"You should have seen it; it was awesome...but much like you, she instantly started running towards the maze and would've gotten through those doors if Minho hadn't tackled her."

The greenie's eyes finally look back at the girl, gazing at her from afar. His eyebrows knit together as his eyes trail over her face with confusion. Why does she look familiar?

From across the fire, Blake's eyes rise to once again meet the greenie's.

He really does have a staring problem doesn’t he? Maybe Min is right…

Something about those whiskey-colored eyes had Blake wondering where she had seen them from. But it's not like she can remember anything at the moment, given she recalls nothing before arriving at the glade.

But still, he looks somewhat familiar to the girl the more she looks at him.

➭ Next Chapter

Author’s note:

This series is complete. I am transferring it from Wattpad to Tumblr. If you would like to read the fic without having to wait on me to post the chapters, my Wattpad is: @Maddie5139

Also, if you would like to be tagged lmk!

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inriospocket · 3 years

Note

Yay welcome to the fandom. Rio deserve all the love so thank you for writing him. Since requests are open, please let us know what you’re willing to write & not. In the meantime, I’d like to please request something a lil angst & maybe fluffy? (Idc, whichever direction this leads you) Rio’s ex coming back in town & him running into her. There’s still unresolved feelings. Thank you!

Thank you for the warm welcome! ♥ I'm willing to write pretty much anything (including smut) within certain boundaries ofc but I may have to think about this longer and make a separate post. But here is your request, I hope you like it!

word count ♡ 1,040

summary ♡ Rio’s ex comes back into town & they run into each other although there are still some unresolved feelings.

situation ♡ angsty x fluffy

“Y/N?!” Marcus yelled in shock before charging towards you. You gasped as you felt his body almost push you over from the hug.

Rio became more alert when he realized Marcus was going towards someone rather than him during school pick-up but once he saw you, he had a mixture of feelings. Relief? Guilt? Hurt? Maybe even a bit of happiness?

“Marcus!” He called but he was too busy trying to crawl into your skin.

“Oh, you’ve gotten so big, papa. How are you?” You giggled, rubbing his back. “I’m good!” He smiled from ear to ear. You were going to say something until the sunlight was covered by a familiar shadow, one you left behind a year ago.

“Hey sweetheart...” Rio smirked. You looked up, your heart beating faster than you realized. “Hey.” You said, unsure if you should smile or not. You felt his dark eyes bore into yours and you were glad Marcus interrupted.

“What are you doing here anyway?” He asked, tilting his head in confusion.

“I’m actually coming to pick up Maya. You remember Maya, right?” You smiled, watching your niece run up to you.

Marcus and Maya used to play together all the time when you and Rio were together. She waved towards Marcus.

“Come on, pup. Let’s get you home.” Rio took his hand. “Wait, can Maya come over and play, Dad?” He said with pleading eyes.

Rio mentally cursed himself for always giving into those eyes. “After homework and only if Maya’s parents are cool with it.” He said, you mentally screaming knowing you’d be looking after your niece for the day and how could you say no?

“Can we go nowwww?” Maya pulled on your arm as you were dreading to face your ex for the second time. “Alright, alright.” You said, putting your shoes back on lazily.

You spent so long trying to forget everything, including him. How could you stay away? Your whole family was here. And maybe, just maybe there was a small part of the both of you that wanted you to come back for each other. You quickly pushed the thought away, remembering how badly he hurt you.

Once you both got to Rio’s house, Marcus snatched Maya’s hand and dragged her to the playground in the backyard leaving you both alone.

The silence broke with Rio pouring himself a drink, raising the bottle to ask you if you wanted any. You shook your head, watching him twist the cap back on. It was the little things that made you miss him and hate him. He was just putting something away and it felt more to you than that.

Everything he did, so smooth, calm, collected. Everything and everyone had a place, a reason. You always compared his life to a game of chess. He was always moving the pieces and you spent your entire relationship trying to figure out how you fit on the board and why he was so attached to one of his pawns.

“Whatchu thinking about so hard?” He broke your train of thought.

“Doesn’t matter.” You lied, glancing out the window at the kids playing on the swings.

“Don’t.” He said, knowing you were lying. He probably knew you better than yourself so why try?

Might as well skip the small talk. “If it mattered, I wouldn’t be here as your guest.” You spoke.

He exhaled through his nose and pursed his lips, always a sign of frustration that you picked up on a long time ago. “You left me.” He said, casually sipping from his glass.

You shifted your gaze from the kids to him. “Did you leave me a choice?” You retorted.

He took his drink and came to sit across from you, the closeness making you slightly uncomfortable that you shifted in your seat. “Nah, you want to talk about this. Let’s talk.” He spoke. He relaxed his shoulders back and gave you that patronizing stare he gave everyone that you’ve always hated.

“Why wasn’t I enough for you?” You asked, looking down at your hands. He furrowed his eyebrows. “What?” He asked but, in some way, he knew.

Every argument and every fight, it always came down to one thing. Or should it be said, one person.

Beth.

You felt every feeling you tried to push to the side come back with a vengeance. “Why did you always choose her?”

Rio laughed defensively. “Y/N, come on.” He said.

“It didn’t matter if you came home to me every night, Christopher. You were still with her. And I,” You paused to keep the tears at bay.

“I spent every day wondering what I was doing wrong. What I could have done better. But I realized I just wasn’t her. I wasn’t who you really wanted. Right? And all this time, you think I’ve left? But I was here with you, Chris.” You couldn’t control the tears anymore.

“I was here with you, and you still left me.” You pressed your eyes closed.

Rio couldn’t deny it. Beth was an undeniable factor in his life. He wasn’t in love with her, but he soon realized he was in love with what she could do for him. It fueled his business, his ego, until it took away what mattered most.

He pulled your chair closer to him, so you’d be sitting between his legs. He cupped your cheeks and wiped your tears away with his thumbs.

“Look at me, mama.” He said, holding your hands now. You opened your tired eyes, looking at him. Was he finally getting it?

“I’m sorry.” He said and you remembered this familiar look in his eyes. It reminded you of what he was like before Beth came along. He still loved you.

He wasn’t one to formally apologize. He would just one day give you flowers or make you a cup of coffee but after all this time, he knew what you really needed.

You didn’t know why but those 2 words made you break down. A year of frustration, isolation, and everything in between. You just wanted him there for you.

He pulled you into his lap, wrapping his arms around you.

“I’m here, baby,” he said, kissing your head.

“I’m here.”

#rio x reader #rio good girls #manny montana #good girls rio #gg fic

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dean-winchester-is-a-warrior · 3 years

Text

Green is My Favorite Color Ch. 5

Pairings: Dean x Fem!OFC (eventual)

Explicit 18 +/Warnings: None in this chapter. Sadness. Talk of a major character's death. Eventual fluff.

Word Count: 4,805

Series Summary: Dean has been her hero from childhood, can she ever get him to be more?

|| Series Masterlist ||

Chapter Summary: Dean is gone. It's been 4 months. What is Julie doing to cope?

A/N: The fifth chapter in a longer series. I’m figuring about 10 chapters. (At this point, anyway.) It’s what I’ll call cannon adjacent. It will follow the general storylines through the seasons, but I’m creating my own offshoots. 😊

4 months later (Or 40 years for some)

Sometimes, in the mornings, she could lie awake in her bed for almost a solid minute before it slowly seeped back into her consciousness. It would take nearly a full sixty seconds for her to figure out why there was a hollow pit in her stomach. Where did it come from?

And then she would remember; Dean was dead.

Sometimes, throughout the day, her brain would be so focused on the task at hand, stripping, cleaning and reassembling the weapon in her lap for instance, that her mind would get quiet. The repetitious nature of the chore would occasionally clear her mind enough that a kind of merciful numbness would pervade for a few minutes, sometimes giving her up to fifteen minutes of respite.

But inevitably the last metallic click would sound on the pistol and it would be clean and in one piece again, and as though she took out a set of earplugs the noise in her mind would come rushing back in.

It was the same noises over and over. Just questions, dozens and dozens of questions repeated on a loop in her mind.

Where was he exactly? What was happening to him right now? What were they doing to him? Who were they? Was he afraid? Was he in pain? Was he alone? Did he remember them? Did he remember her? Could he see them? Was he hungry? Was he cold? Was he burning? Were they hurting him? How were they hurting him? Were they torturing him? If she spoke to him would he ever hear her? Did he miss her? Would he really be in that place for all eternity?

On and on the questions swirled, sometimes in a long line, sometimes repeating the same question over and over again. But always accompanied by horrible flashes of possible answers, images that made her feel a continuous kind of nausea.

And always with one particular question circling in amongst all the others; why didn't he tell her?

He was dead, he was in hell, and he hadn't said a word to her, hadn't even said goodbye. Not really. Not properly.

Julie's mind had been endlessly circling for nearly four months, since the day Bobby had shown up at her apartment door.

"Bobby!" she'd cried, beyond surprised he was there.

He never came to her see her in the tiny apartment she shared with Eliza. It didn't make sense. She always went home to South Dakota to visit; always happy to walk through the door and smell the mixture of old books, car oil, and baking that permeated the house. It was a unique combination of smells and always welcomed her back and made her feel happy to be home.

So as she hugged Bobby and ushered him into the tiny space, a small kernel of dread began to curl in her stomach. Why was he here now?

She brought him a beer and sat facing him from the end of the couch. She pulled her knees up and wrapped her arms around them, instinctively and unconsciously shielding herself.

"What's up?" she asked, smiling at Bobby and praying he'd say he just happened to be nearby on a job.

But of course he didn't. He stayed silent for a minute and as the seconds ticked by, Julie's heart picked up its pace, beating loudly in her ears.

Finally Bobby looked at her properly. His face looked suddenly older, much older.

"I've got to tell you something. I wanted to tell you before. Really, I did. So did Sam. But he made us both promise not to." Bobby said, his husky voice low but ardent, as though he was desperate she understand him.

It was apparent who he was talking about, but Julie clarified anyway.

"Who, Dean?"

Bobby nodded.

"What did he make you promise not to tell me?"

Bobby closed his eyes. "I'm just gonna tell you quick, darlin'." he said, clearly steeling himself.

Julie felt her stomach clench and somehow despite the impossibility of it, she knew a second before he opened his mouth, what Bobby was going to say.

"Dean's gone." He paused and when he spoke again, the word was a quiet creak from his throat. "Dead."

Julie just stared at him, slowly shaking her head, looking at him as though trying to understand a riddle he was giving her.

"I don't...know...no." Julie concluded, her mind providing her the only comfort it could - denial. "I don't understand what you're saying."

Bobby swallowed deeply. "About a year ago...Sam died."

Julie reeled back, her jaw dropping open. Somehow this information seemed to make the situation completely ludicrous in her mind and she gave a broken laugh, like this was somehow part of a silly joke...

Two brothers walk into a bar - they both walk out dead. Ba dum bum!

"What? When?" Julie paused, then shook her head hard. "What?" she repeated.

"Please, darlin'" Bobby pleaded. "Just let me say it all - quick."

Julie bit down on her tongue and nodded, wanting to hear what Bobby had to say so she could explain to him why he was mistaken. He was obviously misunderstanding something.

"A year ago, Sam died. Killed. During a...a mission I guess you could say. Not surprisingly, Dean was pretty messed up about it. I mean, you know Dean, felt it was his fault, thought he should have protected him, thought Sam's life was worth a lot more than his."

Julie felt panic begin to set in slightly. That was exactly how Dean would react, the ludicrous story was starting to have a ring of truth.

"So, he made a deal. To bring Sam back. His soul for Sam's life and one year to live."

Bobby paused and Julie watched him rub a rough hand across his face, scratching his fingernails through his beard. Julie realized he was fighting tears and that was the thing that finally convinced her frozen mind that this was real. This was true. She'd never seen Bobby shed a tear, not once in almost twelve years.

If he was crying, it was real. This was real.

And if this was real, Dean was dead. Dean was dead. The words rattled around in her head as bile rushed up from her stomach and tears spilled hot and fast down her cheeks.

"How...how did he..." a thought crashed into Julie's mind, suddenly catching up with Bobby's words. If Dean sold his soul then...

"He's in hell?" She said, practically screaming. "He sold his soul? Then..." Julie shook her head again. "Sold it to a demon? Like to the devil? He's in hell?" she asked again, trying desperately to sort it all out in her mind in a way that led to a different outcome.

Bobby just nodded. "We tried everything we could to get him out of the deal, but we just couldn't. The hellhounds came for him." Bobby looked as though he was instantly sorry he'd shared that last piece of information.

Julie buried her face in her knees, her arms coming up to wrap around the back of her head, all of it just too much. It was too much information at once, too much damage to her heart.

Hellhounds. She'd never heard of them, but did they really need explaining? What else could they be but demonic hounds who came and ripped away people's souls. Killed them? Mauled them? What other explanation would fit the word hellhound?

Julie felt an agonizing pain slice through her chest and for one wild moment she really thought she might be having a heart attack. But the pain wasn't physical; it was a tear in her soul.

Now four months later, that tear was still bleeding. She'd found no way to patch it up; though she'd tried.

After nearly two weeks of numbness and a kind of mental paralysis, she woke up one morning and decided suddenly and inexplicably that she needed to talk to Sam. She needed to know what he was doing. She thought she remembered Bobby saying that Sam was worrying him a little because he seemed determined to "bring Dean back."

Julie had let that information just wash over her, as she had all Bobby's words over those first days. She wouldn't admit it to him or even really to herself, but she was angry at him. Angry at all of them. Dean had made the decision not to tell her, but they had abided by it. Bobby and Sam had allowed him to get dragged to hell without even telling her it was happening.

Deep down she knew they weren't really to blame. She even knew Dean was just trying to protect her in his own idiotic way. But that knowledge couldn't stop her anger, or her feelings of resentment.

So she called Sam a hundred times until she eventually guilted him into meeting with her. He was a mess. She was pretty sure he was drunk, at least a little. He wasn't making a lot of sense. He kept saying he was going to try and pull Dean out through the gate, that he was going to open it.

"What gate?" Julie had asked, but Sam continued his mostly one-sided conversation.

"That's how Dad got out. That's what's gonna get Dean out." He nodded as though it was a sure thing. Julie had left his motel room more worried about him than Bobby had been.

Over the next few weeks she'd hounded him like a woman on a mission. She tracked him down again and again, showed up at his different motel rooms and played on his protective nature to make him open the door to her.

"Okay, Sam. I guess I'll just sit out in this poorly lit parking lot all night. I'm sure no one will come to bother me. Or rob me. Or kill me.

Or gobble me up!" she finished on a shout.

She was being dramatic of course and the look of death that Sam leveled at her as he wrenched open his door told her he knew it too. But he was worried enough that something really would happen to her, that he let her into the room.

And so it went, over the next while. She would track Sam down like a bloodhound and force him to teach her things about hunting. He was completely against it to start with, giving her the same argument Bobby and Dean had.

Being a hunter was hard...it was no kind of life...she deserved better.

Finally she had shoved his hungover ass backward so that he sat down hard on the chair behind him. For once she could actually look him in the eye since he was nearly as tall sitting as she was standing.

"Listen to me, Sam Winchester. I am going to learn to hunt. I am so finished with sitting at home, wringing my hands and worrying myself sick while the menfolk go off to war. So, either you can teach me some of what you know or I'll go out and learn it myself."

Sam scowled at her. She scowled back, her gaze steady and unwavering.

It may have been Sam's hangover that made him capitulate so easily. He didn't seem to have the energy or the verbal capabilities to argue with her.

So, as the months passed Sam taught her the life of a hunter. He started with weapons, how to make salt rounds, how to clean and assemble both pistols and shotguns. He taught her basic lore as well, most of which she'd already gleaned over the years, but it was still good to verify it.

After a while he began to teach her hand-to-hand combat. He moved slowly through the motions of a fight, teaching her how to land a punch with all the weight of her body behind it.

He showed her defensive moves and how to block strikes, panicking when he accidentally landed a blow she should have been able to block. He'd only been moving at half speed and strength but it still made her nose bleed.

"Jesus, Julie!" He'd cried grabbing a motel face cloth to staunch the flow. She was sitting on the hard-backed chair beside the table and he squatted in front of her to press the cold, wet cloth to her face. "This is ridiculous." He'd whispered, almost to himself, clearly doubting he was doing the right thing.

She reached out and yanked on his long hair, making him grunt. "Hey! Don't start. I'm fine." After a minute her nose stopped bleeding and she stood up, throwing the cloth into the sink.

"Show me that again."

Time passed and she learned things, she improved. Eventually she just started traveling around with Sam in the Impala, wedging herself into his life without giving him much choice. They didn't do any traditional hunting, since she was still a newbie and Sam was focused only on finding and killing the demon who had sent the hounds for Dean. Lilith. Her name and the fact that she often possessed little girls was all she knew about her. Sam's face got cold and scary any time she brought her up. So, she didn't.

Sam seemed to be improving too, sort of. He'd stopped drinking as much, anyway. He was very focused and more serious than ever. She missed his deep-dimpled smile.

He would sometimes take off for long stretches at a time and at first she thought maybe he was going off to be with someone. Now that she was always around, like an annoying little sister, it had to be cramping his love life.

Eventually, though, she began to suspect it was something more. For one thing, he was gone more often and for increasingly long intervals, and she was sure nobody needed to get laid that often. But he also began to change, he was more confident, more full of purpose. She just wished she knew what the purpose was.

But she tried to give him his space and privacy since he was allowing her to tag along everywhere and continuing their lessons whenever he was with her.

She checked in with Bobby fairly regularly, not angry enough at him to let him worry about them unnecessarily. He was still mad as hell that she was choosing a hunter life instead of going back to school.

They'd had a big argument over the phone a few weeks ago, when September rolled around and she told him she wasn't going back to college. Ever.

It was the biggest fight they'd ever had, arguments having been few and far between for them through the twelve years she'd been with him.

There was a part of her that felt guilty and like she was letting him down, like she was being ungrateful for the life and security he'd provided her all these years. But when she felt that way she just reminded herself that as much as she loved Bobby, her life was hers alone and she didn't owe her choices to anyone else.

A few days after the fight Bobby had called to concede defeat.

"You win, kid." He said, and Julie felt her throat tighten at the exhaustion in his voice. No matter what truths she told herself and how sure she was in her decisions, she hated that she was hurting him, making him worry.

"You're right. I can't live your life for you. You gotta do what you gotta do, I guess." Bobby continued. "It makes me feel better that Sam is the one teaching you things, he'll do everything he can to keep you safe, so..." Bobby cleared his throat. "And it's good that he's got you there too."

So things had settled into a sort of routine, Sam training with her for half the day and mysteriously disappearing for the other half. She checked in with Bobby every day or so and read as many books on lore and hunting as Sam could get her.

And through it all, through every day and every task, the never-ending parade of questions persisted like a hum in the back of Julie's mind.

Was he bleeding? Was he screaming? Was he crying? Would they ever stop? Would she really never see him again, even in heaven?

Why didn't he say goodbye?

She worried sometimes that, one day, she would be driven mad by the endless litany in her head. The ache in her chest never let up, and she was sure it never would.

But it did; the day he walked back through the door.

***

"Hey! I'm back. Finally!" Julie called out as she walked back into the room she and Sam were sharing at the Astoria Hotel.

"We definitely have to find a different diner." She continued as she jostled around the three bags of food and tray of drinks she carried, trying to lock the door behind her. She ended up holding one of the bags in her teeth as she turned the deadbolt and slid the chain in place.

"Dere wasz hardly anyone dere and it shtill took forever!" She said, words garbled by the paper bag in her mouth. She took it out and delicately tried to spit out the fibers of the bag as she turned around.

"Their food definitely isn't - " Her words ended abruptly as she watched Dean walk slowly out from around the corner.

The bags and both drinks crashed to the floor, soaking the hideous red carpet as Julie's arms went numb.

Her mind couldn't take in what she was seeing. She looked quickly to where Bobby and Sam stood, desperate for confirmation that she wasn't just completely nuts and hallucinating the man in front of her. Both men nodded, and Bobby gave her a small, encouraging smile.

Dean approached her and she felt like she couldn't take him all in. He wore a long-sleeved olive green shirt over a darker, army green t-shirt and jeans. His hair was short and styled in his usual spiky, militaristic cut. He looked like Dean. Exactly the same, he was exactly the same, which was of course, impossible.

As he got closer she tilted her head up to keep eye contact. She felt a kick to her gut as she feared momentarily that she was dreaming again. She didn't blink, sure that if she did he would melt away like he had in a thousand dreams before.

"Hey, kid." He said, his voice quiet but deep and full of grit.

Julie blinked up at him as tears welled up and fell over her bottom lashes. "Why?" She asked, her voice choking. "What were you...? How did...? How could you...?" No matter how she tried she couldn't get out a sentence, one thought just kept crashing into the next.

He smiled at her and seemingly of its own volition, her hand reached up and smacked him sharply across the cheek.

Surprise flooded Dean's face as he raised a hand to his jaw. "Ow." he said, and it was part statement, part question.

She raised her small fists and hit his chest, not at all in the way Sam had taught her to punch, but like a little kid throwing a tantrum. "You...just left...why wouldn't you..." her voice was cracked and raw, the heartbreak and pain of the last four months crashing over her and through her.

Dean caught her fists easily and she ended her tantrum by crashing into his chest and wailing, "You're such an asshole!"

She wrenched her hands away from him to wrap her arms tightly around his waist, fists now clenching and unclenching in the back of his shirt. Her sobs wracked her and she was slightly embarrassed by her lack of control as she shook in his arms, crying so hard she began coughing.

"I know I am, sweetheart. I know." He said gently as he ran both arms up and down her back. "Shh." he whispered softly against the top of her head as she sobbed into his shirt, soaking it. He moved one of his hands into her hair and let his hand run soothingly through the long strands.

After a few minutes Julie's sobs turned to shuddering breaths. Dean pulled back and looked into her face, wiping away the tear tracks that trailed down her cheeks with his thumbs.

"What are you doing, here Jules? Why aren't you in school?"

Bobby cleared his throat and Dean turned his head to look back at him.

Bobby shrugged, "Sam's been teaching her to hunt."

Dean's head swung back around to face her like it was spring-loaded. His hands dropped to her shoulders. "What?" he asked, voice low and hard.

He turned away from her quickly to face Sam and repeated himself, much louder this time. "What?" he asked, glaring at his brother.

Sam raised his hands. "Don't get mad at me! What was I supposed to do? Have you ever tried telling her no?"

Julie frowned at their discussion of her as though she wasn't there.

She didn't need to explain herself and she wasn't about to feel guilty yet again for living the life she wanted. "Enough." she said, pulling on Dean's forearm to get his attention back. He scowled down at her beside him.

She shook her head. "That is so not important right now."

She took a deep, still shuddery breath and ran her hand up his arm, resting it on the thick, round curve of his shoulder, marveling at the vitality and strength she could feel beneath her fingers.

"How are you here?"

Dean looked like he wasn't going to drop it, but Bobby stepped in. "Come on over darlin' and sit down." Bobby handed her a beer from the coffee table in front of him. "Might as well add your ideas to our pile of guesses."

***

Hours later they were on the road, heading down the interstate toward a psychic Bobby knew, hoping she could give them any kind of answer.

Sam was laying in the back seat as stretched out as his tall frame allowed, snoring softly. She sat beside Dean in the front, her mind still reeling and constantly worrying she was going to wake up.

She looked over at Dean behind the wheel and her breath caught in her throat.

God he's beautiful. She thought.

It seemed to hit her even harder now. Perhaps it was simply that she'd been living with the ghost of him for these last months, and now here he was, strength and power rolling off of him, even when he was just sitting, relaxed against the comfortable seat.

He ran his hands along the steering wheel, caressing it, obviously so glad to be in the driver's seat again. She watched his hands move lightly over the hard leather covering the wheel and couldn't explain why the sight caused her breathing to pick up and her cheeks to flush.

She stared at his profile, tracing her eyes along his straight nose and down over his mouth as he sang along softly with the AC/DC song playing quietly on the radio.

She knew she'd stared too long when she saw his mouth quirk up at the corner.

"I'm not gonna disappear, you know?" He turned his head towards her. "Promise."

He turned his eyes back to the road and Julie was grateful to be able to hide her blushes at being caught staring.

"Right." she whispered. She looked down at her lap before looking back at him.

"How are you?" She shook her head. "That's a stupid...is that a stupid question?" she asked.

Dean squinted against the headlights of an oncoming car. "No, it's not stupid."

He glanced at her. "I'm fine." He said easily. Too easily.

Julie nodded slowly. "Uh huh." she said, her voice unbelieving. "Sure. Just spent four months in hell and got pulled out by some force none of you can even guess at, but yeah, you're...fine."

Dean gave her a look of annoyance. "Well, I don't remember hell or how I got out, so...what is there to bother me?"

Julie stared at Dean's profile, silently evaluating for a moment before she spoke. "Well, even if you don't remember hell -"

"I don't." Dean said again, vehemently.

Julie nodded and looked back out the wide windshield. "Okay. But you still died, still got dragged away by rabid invisible dogs. You're still back on earth with four months lost. That has to be strange and scary. Certainly something more than 'fine'."

Julie saw a muscle jump in Dean's jaw, but he just reached over and squeezed her knee. "I'm good."

Completely distracted by the lingering heat left behind by his massive hand, even after he moved it back to the steering wheel, Julie let the matter drop and they descended into silence.

A few minutes later Julie broke it. "I'm sorry I slapped you."

Dean grinned wide and the sight of it made muscles clench low in her belly and a lump form in her throat.

God he's beautiful. Julie thought again.

He glanced at her. "I'll survive, I think."

He reached over with his right hand and squeezed her bicep between his thumb and forefinger.

"Although, you gained some muscles, kid."

Julie tilted her head toward him and told him with her eyes how funny she thought he was.

He chuckled lightly. "Seriously though, Sammy says you're good."

Julie was surprised. "He does?" she always assumed Sam thought she was one good punch away from getting herself killed.

"Yeah." Dean said. "And that's no small compliment."

Julie blushed a little. "Well, he's a good teacher."

"And this is..." Dean took a deep breath. "You're determined to hunt? There's nothing I can say to sway you, nothing I could offer you as an alternative?"

Julie shook her head. "No, Dean. Nothing."

Again she saw the muscle jump in his tight jaw and she almost reached up to run her fingers along his jawline, fascinated. Thankfully she came to her senses before she gave in to her bizarre impulse. But she also had a sudden desire to scrape her nails gently against the rasp of scruff on his cheeks. How would it feel against her fingers...against her lips.

She jerked her attention back to reality when Dean turned to look at her. Judging by the expectant expression in his mossy green eyes, he'd said something and was waiting for an answer.

Julie shook her head as though she was a dog shaking off water. "Sorry, what?"

Dean's eyes shifted to her lips for just a second, his mouth slightly open, tongue pressed lightly between his teeth. His eyes moved back to hers and she wondered if she was imagining the heat she saw there.

He cleared his throat. "I asked if you'd be okay with me teaching you some stuff too."

A blush lit up Julie's cheeks as her mind was filled with "The Things Dean Winchester Could Teach Her".

She bowed her head, clearing away her inappropriate thoughts. When she raised her eyes back to his, she was beaming. His acceptance of her decision meant a lot to her. "Of course. Dean, I would love that."

Dean nodded. "Good. I'll teach you all the dirty fighting tricks I know. There's no such thing as a fair fight when it comes to monsters. You take 'em out any way you can. And I can teach you how to hustle pool and scam credit cards too, cause hunting doesn't pay crap."

Julie smiled wide and scooted close to him on the seat, leaning her head against his bicep. He was tense beside her for a moment but then he raised his arm so she could duck under it and press right up against him.

His body was hard and warm and being this close to him again, close in a way she had never expected to be again caused tears to start falling, she couldn't help it. She shuddered against him and he squeezed her harder into his side, his arm a heavy weight across her shoulders anchoring her to the reality that he was really here beside her, safe for the moment and home.

Her tears dried slowly on her cheeks and she turned her head to lay her cheek against his chest.

Bon Scott's slightly nasal and gravelly voice sang Ride On quietly in the background.

(Ride on) gonna change my evil ways

(Ride on)

One of these days

The deep base of the song thrummed along with the ever present hum of the Impala moving smoothly along the black top to form a lullaby that slowly sang Julie to sleep.

She jerked awake barely two minutes later with dread in her stomach, her subconscious sure she'd dreamt all of this.

But Dean's arm was still there, his breathing was steady and soothing beneath her cheek. He turned his head slightly, and Julie looked up at him.

"I'm here, Jules. For real. I promise." He sealed his promise with a gentle kiss. His lips were unbearably soft against hers and she breathed out a sigh as he pulled back. He pressed another kiss to her forehead before he turned his attention back to the road stretching out in front of them.

For the first time in four months Julie's mind was truly quiet, not numb, not distracted. Just quiet.

And the lullaby played on.

@all-alone-he-turns-to-stone @foxyjwls007, @b3autyfuldisast3r, @myloversgone, @kazsrm67, @fangirlxwrites67, @kickingitwithkirk, @charred-angelwings, @hopefuldreamers-world, @siospins, @deanwanddamons @deandreamernp, @my-sherlock221b, @jensensgotyoudean @lyarr24, @akshi8278

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sugxrslushy · 3 years

Note

Hey max, i don't know if you take request or not but to decide to try, so today was kinda hard(my back is fucking broke) ao if that's okay can i pls request perona with s/o(i prefer female but gn is okay too) who is really tired and just need to relax from rhis day and they just chilling together, (i really hope you write for her) thanks and and have a good day or night

➪ a/n: oh anon, baby, I absolutely love Perona so no worries ofc I'll write for her! my blog is themed after her for a reason, she's def one of my favorite girls I just adore her :0 and comfort with her is always welcome! so glad that you requested this because I've been craving to write smth soft with her

➪ includes: Perona x gn!reader

➪ warnings: none <3

Perona was expecting to be lavished with sweet love and attention from the minute you arrived, wearing a giddy grin on her red painted lips as she rushed over to the door to greet you. She swung it open in excited anticipation only to be let down by your crashing into her arms, barely clinging onto her in a hug as her hopes shattered like a dropped plate.

Her lips pursed together, brushing your hair from your face to find your tired expression. She grimaces at how you looked, totally not cute but you can still stir up some sympathy from her when you nuzzle against her touch.

“What even happened to you?” She demands, frowning down at you.

“Long day, m’ back hurts.” You sigh, voice muffled against the frilly fabric of her clothes and you nudge your face closer to the crook of her neck. Her hand rubs circles along your back, applying light pressure to avoid hurting you.

She’d planned for this to be a day about her at first, with you being gone for the whole day. But the sorry sight of you was enough to make her feel a bit bad for you, you were her partner after all. All the face masks and snacks she’d stashed away were calling her name, maybe they could be used to help you feel better.

____________

“Don’t get it on my plushies.” Perona whines, finishing applying the rest of the facemask to your skin. You snort, knowing full well she wouldn’t point it out as long as she could wash it out. She sits in your lip, her tongue poking out of the corner of her mouth and she swipes a bit of the facemask mixture away from your mouth.

You lean up before she can slide off your lap, catching her lips in a sweet kiss that you’d been missing all day. You can feel the warmth of her skin even through the facemask and you giggle when you pull away. “You know I won’t.” You retort, relaxing into the giant ghost plushie she’d snuck behind you to help your back.

Fumbling for the remote lost in the piles of blankets, you give your eyes a rest. You’d both agreed on some awfully cliche horror movie, you’d watched it a handful of times before with one of Perona’s friends being the one who introduced it to you. Still as bad as the first time around but it always managed to get a laugh out of you when you were too tired to focus.

Perona’s bed was always your favorite place after a long day, being swallowed up in its sweet softness and surrounding you in a comfort like no other. It was warm, with fluffy blankets mixed in with lighter silken sheets, all various shades of pink like that of sticky sweet bubblegum and deeper shades like freshly picked roses, still shimmering with droplets of dew.

You sunk back into the pillowy softness of her mattress, carefully crafted to her rather picky liking. The fluff of her many plushies and stuffed animals tickled your skin and you couldn’t help but feel like you were falling asleep atop the softest slumbering beast.

The movie starts up with a dramatic piano melody and Perona rolls over with a huff, clambering into your lap to rest her head against your chest. Your fingers gently card through her long pink hair, smelling distinctively of her strawberry shampoo with hints of flowers beneath it.

She hums, stretching out like a delighted cat that’d been found bathing in the sun and presses herself firmer against you. The facemask has started to feel a bit tacky against your skin but still nice. “When am I supposed to take this off?

She props her chin up against your collarbone. “When you start to feel relaxed.” You cocked an eyebrow at her, wondering how long that would take and she giggles. “Or when the movie ends, whichever comes first horohoro!”

tag list: @foodismylife @portgaes

#one piece #one piece x reader #one piece headcanons #one piece fic #fluff #perona #perona one piece #ghost princess perona #perona x reader

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lavendertales · 3 years

Text

Formalized curiosities**

pairing: Cobb Vanth x Mandalorian!f!reader/OFC with name

summary: you end up in Mos Pelgo, keen on drinking. The mysterious stranger in the corner keeping his eyes on you might just be what you need instead.

word count: 3.8k

A/N: this is a parallel one shot to the Cyare series, but it can be read as a standalone fic too, I suppose. Anyway, big thanks to @wild-at-heart-kept-in-cage for asking for this and inspiring me to write it down! Hope you enjoy, my loves!

WARNINGS: piv (unprotected), cowgirl against the wall, lots of tension, alcohol involved in the first part.

AGELESS/EMPTY BLOGS & MINORS WILL BE BLOCKED!

gif: @demisexuallupin

You’ve lost track of time. You’ve been wandering on planets for months, most likely, and now each one you set foot onto looked like the last. The planets began to blend in with one another, looking like a mixture of dust, forests and thieves. Somehow there were always thieves, different shapes and forms.

This little town, however, seems peaceful. Albeit the people staring at you, you brush it off as you strut your way through the main street. It’s not something unusual for you to catch eyes. You figured it’s partially because of your looks, but then again, it could also be due to your disheveled look, scars and overall intimidating stature. The last confrontation with that Mandalorian did not go well—for him. You got your answers, and when he got violent, so did you.

Damn, you could use a drink right now.

You find a decent looking place that resembles a cantina and enter without any form of hesitation. There are few people here and there and they seem to disperse further once they take notice of you. A huff escapes your lips, locking eyes with the bartender and ordering a bottle of spotchka.

“A—A bottle?” he repeats, taken aback.

“Yes, sir. I’ve had a long trip and a rough few months, so if you wouldn’t mind helping me out.”

Still reluctant and studying you curiously, the bartender obeys and fetches you the bottle of spotchka, for which you hand him a few extra credits. He seems genuinely surprised and now he’s frantically thanking you, so you simply nod once and search for an empty table.

You’ve always enjoyed your solitude. Even in crowded places and in your parsec, you always felt like a lone wolf. You suppose it’s been your natural state of mind, what came down as the most comfortable position of yours and you never minded it. Yet, breaking from the Death Watch and learning about its dark endeavors has taken its toll on you. Solitude was one thing, and loneliness was another. You truly had no one left now, only memories and lies. And you may have been strong, acquainted with the hardships, but you were exhausted on all fronts.

Luckily there was spotchka. That would allow you a moment’s rest for tonight, at the very least.

Even with all the fatigue, your gut instinct functions flawlessly, for you feel a pair of eyes on you. Mere seconds later, you look up and stare right ahead, suspicions being confirmed. A pair of—surprisingly—welcoming emerald eyes, and awfully inviting. You don’t shy away from the eye contact, and neither does the man. This is a real man, alright, nothing like what you’ve encountered before. He seems tall and strong enough, grey hair styled marvelously from the years behind him that he’s carrying so, so well. Your eyes remain locked on his silhouette as he approaches you. He stops, vaguely smiling.

“This seat taken?”

You smirk, shaking your head as a no. Suddenly you recognize you’re still wearing your armor, fact which you had completely dismissed until just now. Mandalorian armor is always reason for stares, especially given the reputation they carry.

“Knock yourself out,” you respond, chugging more spotchka.

“Yikes. A whole bottle of spotchka. Tough day?”

You chuckle rather mockingly and you stare at him the same way. “Tough life. Why is everyone always more concerned with the inanimate objects rather than the issue at hand?”

The man takes a seat and examines you carefully. The more you return his glare, the more you decide you have an interest in him, one that you haven’t had in a quite a while. And he does seem different than the other people you’ve come across in your travels.

“Wanna share your troubles?” he proposes, to which you chuckle.

“Why would I want to share my personal problems with a stranger?”

“I’m Cobb Vanth, marshal of Mos Pelgo. There, now we’re acquaintances.”

You find yourself giggling, much to your own disbelief. He’s actually managing to make you laugh. Unbelievable. You exhale, long and reluctant, but at the same time, more willing.

“I’m Amara. Amara Ovarug. Mandalorian.”

The man named Cobb Vanth straightens his position in the seat and smirks, watching you with admiration. Now that’s certainly new.

“Are you really?” he asks, mesmerized.

“Do you know anyone who goes around bragging to be a Mandalorian if they aren’t one?”

“Fair point. But you may never know.”

“Well, I am one. Or was. I got some things to figure out. Let’s say I am still one.”

“Tough life you said.”

“Let me ask you something, marshal of Mos Pelgo. What would you do if you found out that your entire life and your beliefs, every promise you’ve ever made, they were all a lie?”

Stillness resides in between you two, a hint of tension crawling from said space, electric and exciting, new. It becomes increasingly evident for Cobb Vanth that you are indeed struggling with something of great magnitude, judging by the way it is taking its toll on you.

No sane person would down a whole bottle of spotchka at once if the troubles they’d be going through wouldn’t be severe.

“I would have a serious identity crisis,” he says, letting you pour him a drink as well.

“There you go. You figured me out.”

“So what’s the story?”

“A long, complicated one. To make it short, I broke away from a cult who had been lying to me and other Mandalorians since we were children, I’ve been traveling for months trying to find some answers, some peace of mind… and I am in a constant state of despair, disappointment and bitterness. Cheers to that.”

The liquid warms your body, burning your throat as it goes down, and again you find yourself staring at the marshal. He’s more than inviting, he’s downright interesting. A couple more drinks and you’d be good to go.

You could use that kind of distraction.

“Have you found what you were looking for?” he questions.

“Yes.”

“And did it bring you peace of mind?”

This time you falter, a painful knot in your stomach. The pain returned, turning dark and attacking every nerve in your system.

“No.”

You drink more as Vanth looks at you empathetically. It was now more than clear you were experiencing some sort of life crisis, but he just met you. There was probably nothing he could say or do that would make you feel any better. And it wouldn’t feel right anyway.

“What’s next on your agenda?”

“More travel I guess. I have no place to stay, so… I’m just gonna wander the galaxy and just… live.”

“What happens once you’ve seen every town, every planet?”

You didn’t expect that question and it makes you gulp. You obviously hadn’t planned that far ahead and you blatantly refused to. The future right now just seems dark and uncertain, filled with grudges and pain, and you do not want to explore it. Not just yet. You need a distraction, something that would numb you for a little while. Spotchka isn’t enough.

That leaves—

Well.

“I don’t know,” you answer truthfully, feeling the light buzz kicking in. “I guess I’ll figure it out when I get there.”

“Living in the present. Good choice.”

His smile is radiant and sincere, instantly tingling your senses. You flash a shy smile as well, licking your lips in anticipation of something which you know might not materialize itself.

“What about you, Cobb Vanth? What is your story?”

“Ah. I’m afraid it’s quite tedious compared to yours.”

“I can’t believe someone as attractive as you hasn’t got a few stories up his sleeve.”

That seems to fluster him, which can only work to your advantage.

“I got some, but probably not suited for a first time meeting.”

“Didn’t you just say we were acquaintances?”

You both chuckle. Glares are being exchanged, curious eyes searching for one another in between sips of drink. By now, you’ve made up your mind. You choose to live in the present and to take full advantage of the momentum, and it seems like Vanth might be on the same page with you. You learned to recognize the looks of those who desire you, and the look in Vanth’s eyes tells you just that.

“Ah,” he dismisses it and takes another sip. “Those are stories for the third, fourth meeting. A gentleman never brags.”

“Oh, so I take it you want a third and fourth meeting to happen?”

“Maybe. That is your choice.”

If nothing from the prior conversation convinced you that this man was something unique that you wanted for the night, this surely did the trick.

“How about we get out of here and you do tell me those stories? I have the feeling you are quite the charmer, marshal Vanth.”

You can’t see it or tell, but you calling him by his title and last name just does something for him. But the situation is not ideal, and he knows better than to profit off of a damsel in distress.

It takes him a while to compose himself; he clears his throat and bites the inside of his cheeks, smiling at you.

“How about I show you a place where you can sleep tonight?” he counter proposes.

You raise your brows. “Lead the way.”

Your skin tingles, all your senses coming to life as you walk out of the cantina on Vanth’s arm. You still look disheveled, even more so now that you’re tipsy, but the looks you receive are priceless. While you dislike being the center of attention, this feels appropriate. And more importantly, it helps you take your mind off of the mess that your life has turned into.

The road you’re on makes little to no sense to you. The suns of Tatooine begin to set and while they create a beautiful landscape filled with tones of red, orange and purple, you are more interested in the marshal. He seems like a genuinely nice man, unlike those you’ve met before. But there’s always something wicked hiding in anyone’s depths, waiting or begging—in some cases—to be unleashed to the surface, to be let loose. You bet it’s the same with Vanth.

The place he presents you with is more than chic. It’s got a certain style to it and it’s clean, which is, again, news to you. You take a quick look around and when you lay your eyes on Vanth again, your insides burn and ache. It’s a very pleasant feeling to have returned after such a long time. You’ve lost track of how long it’s been since you broke from the Death Watch and subsequently began experiencing life as it should be experienced, but it’s somewhere close to eight months.

“Is this your place?” you ask, approaching him curiously.

“It’s more of a guest house, shall we call it.”

Suddenly you begin to think you might not be on the same page and it’s making you feel somewhat sad.

“When you said… a place to sleep… you literally meant a place to sleep.”

Disappointment seeps through the cracks of your harsh voice, but Vanth chuckles softly as he moves closer to you. He looks you up and down and tweaks your chin fugitively.

“I did get your offer, you know,” he informs you. “But as I said, a gentleman never brags. And in this case, doesn’t take advantage.”

You shrug. “You don’t have to be a gentleman. I am giving you full advantage.”

Vanth laughs out loud and even you chuckle at how silly and needy you sound, but at the very least you both have a sense of humor about this. You find yourself in his arms, his fingers barely touching your forearms, and you shudder. Maybe you’ll stay a little longer in Mos Pelgo.

“I hope you’ll sleep well here,” he tells you.

And actually means it. Kriffing hell.

“I would’ve slept better if you would have taken me up on my offer, but sure.”

He pretends to be upset, faking a frown, and you chuckle, brushing it off casually.

“Just kidding. Thank you, though.”

His frown gets real. “For what?”

“For… being kind.”

“It’s only natural. Not many people treat you this way?”

“I come from a culture of weapons, death, pain, and plenty of injuries. So… no. Not much kindness going around.”

Vanth seems upset, in a way, to hear that, and again looks you up and down, gesture which makes you believe once again that you two are, in fact, on the same page. The only difference is that he has manners which prevent his urges to take over.

And that makes him several times more attractive.

“That’s too bad,” he eventually says. “You should be treated with kindness.”

“Not always,” you whisper and smirk.

Which makes Vanth flustered and he lets you go. There’s a lingering moment, one pleading for something more, but neither surrenders to it. You now realize as well that the situation isn’t ideal and so you drop the matter.

“Sleep well,” he smiles at you. “Oh, and if you need anything—“

You raise your eyebrows suggestively, and again Vanth chuckles, lowering his head into the ground.

“If you need anything else, there’s clothes in the next room and… that’s it.”

“Okay.”

“Goodnight, Amara.”

“Goodnight, marshal Vanth.”

The more time you spent around Vanth, the more you came to realize that he was perhaps the most interesting man you’ve ever came across. He was a natural leader, clever and funny, and you ended up having a lovely time conversing with him. It was actually much better than what you originally had in mind.

Few days later though, anticipation reached a boiling limit.

While you were more than grateful for his politeness, there was something else stirring inside your belly and one late night, over a game of sabacc and a shared bottle of spotchka, the feeling was finally reciprocated.

“I gotta hand it to you, marshal Vanth, this was one hell of a week,” you say, examining the cards you’ve got.

“Found some peace?”

“I did. It’s more relaxing than I thought it would be. And the company’s not bad either.”

Vanth chuckles, staring only at his cards, but sneaking glances at you when you’re not looking. You’re more than appealing and intriguing, and your open interest in him is beyond flattering. Truth be told, it takes a lot of strength to maintain his esteemed position and not do anything rushed.

Even though you clearly said he wouldn’t have to be a gentleman.

Fuck. Much to think about.

Another few minutes go by with escapee glances and tension to a boiling point, and you examine your cards, placing your bet. Vanth does the same and, to no one’s surprise, you win.

“Congratulations,” he says, standing up.

“What do I get for winning?”

He’s standing so close to you it’s nearly debilitating. You lick your bottom lip and stare at him with a playful smirk as his hands rest on your hips, slowly pulling you in.

“I believe you were clear about your wishes when you came here.”

“Was I? Remind me, marshal Vanth.”

Oh, he wants to remind you. And you calling him that finally triggers the anticipated effect.

So when you both lean in simultaneously for a kiss, it’s a delicious relief. The kiss is fast and greedy, fueled by desire. You’re more than pleasantly surprised when your back hits the wall, your spotchka-infused breaths mix together in a slithering dance of your tongues. Vanth runs his tongue along your neck and clavicles and you tug at his hair once in a while.

You want to suggest taking it elsewhere more comfortable but the moment is perfectly idealized. The heat, the tension, the drunkenness you both feel from tasting each other, the haste to undress each other… it made your entire body throb with desire.

For some reason, Vanth’s every rushed movement seems in contrast with his otherwise calm and enchanting persona. It’s as if some greater force possessed him and is now making him dispose of your clothes as fast as he can. Actually, he only bothers with the lower half until your core is exposed, aching and needing attention, and that’s when he takes himself in hand and slowly gives himself a few strokes before lifting you back up again and sliding inside you.

That first thrust feels somewhat undeserved. You’re not sure why you feel that way, but it doesn’t prolong its agonizing existence in your head. Vanth lowers and lifts you on and off as he groans in the crook of your neck, occasionally treating you with some sloppy neck kisses, and your fingers tug at his hair once again. A smile breaks from your lips, free of concerns and fears, only triggered by desire and utter enjoyment. This moment right now, no one can take it from you. It’s your freedom, earned through lies and battles and hardships few can imagine.

You stretch open right on Vanth; he’s quite big but nothing you can’t handle. It’s a little pain—nothing you haven’t handled before—and you welcome it alongside your newly found freedom. Stars, it feels like your cunt is taking the shape of him as he thrusts upwards inside you, no words escaping either your lips. No need for them anyway. He’s pulsing deep inside, shooting to reach that sweet spot that makes you fall apart. It’s further away, and you barely reached to it in your solitude, but you choose to have faith in the man, at least for the time being.

You’d very much like to compliment him and his technique but truth be told, you can only whimper. Those are the only sounds that slip through your lips in this very erotic moment. You mewl and smile through the delicious thrusts and hits against the wall.

Maker only knows how long it takes you till you cum, but when you do it’s nothing short of moans or grunts. As your climaxes clash against one another like tidal waves, you cup Vanth’s cheeks and pull him in for a fiery kiss, as a non-verbal thank-you-for-letting-me-sleep-in-your-town-and-for-sleeping-with-me-as-well.

“You’re—quite the showoff when you want to—aren’t you?” you smile through ragged breaths.

“Takes a special kind of—person,” he cheekily smiles as he pulls out and helps you back down on the ground.

There’s hesitation on your part as you compose yourself and arrange your clothes again. Vanth studies you with a peculiar curiosity and interest alike, buckling his pants.

What now? You wonder. You haven’t planned ahead, certainly not past that night of drinking in the cantina and now here you are a week later, the itch scratched and having no clue where to go from here.

“You can stay however long you want,” Vanth says, seemingly reading your thoughts.

You frown. “You still want me around after this?”

His turn to frown. “Why wouldn’t I?”

“Well, most men—male species, at least—choose to move on right after sex, so I assumed you would choose the same.”

“I like you. You’re cunning and feisty. Got something dark in you that I find interesting.”

“So what you’re saying is that you have bad habits you can’t control.”

Vanth chuckles. “Maybe I do.”

You smile, feeling more playful than usual.

“But if you have a tendency to repeat said bad habits, you might need to buckle up,” you reply, hands on his chest as you arrange his shirt

“And why is that?”

“I’ve been in a cult for most of my life, and now I’m free. Which means I don’t really have limits or restraints.”

Vanth is speechless. He’s watching you mesmerized while you make your way out of his room, eyes sparkling with arousal and interest.

“Which reminds me, for future reference, restraints are also okay,” you wink at him.

“Noted.”

“This is gonna be good for both of us.”

“Couldn’t agree more.”

You’ve heard the word stay more than you had in your entire life throughout the next few weeks. It feels as if you are quite unworthy of hearing it, let alone allowing yourself to feel it and believe it.

But Vanth had been asking you to prolong your stay in Mos Pelgo for weeks, ever since that first night of passion you’ve shared, and every similar experience since then has culminated in the same sincere plea.

“What are you afraid of?” he asked you one late afternoon, sharing a bowl of soup with you.

“What do you mean?”

“There seem to be things that trigger your fight or flight response.”

“Everyone has things that set them off.”

“So if I’d ask you to stay again, you wouldn’t remain completely silent and avoid the topic by trying to undress me?”

You remain silent, to your own dismay, and chuckle nervously when you realize how attentive he’s been to you.

“I’m not going to undress you,” you respond, setting the bowl away.

“Too bad, it would’ve been the ideal ending to this day.”

One of the most stunning things about Vanth was his sense of humor and how easily he made you laugh, and that was on top of being sweet and utterly ravishing in bed.

Maybe you could have stayed. You had nowhere better to go anyway.

“Let me ask you this,” you shift into your seat and look at him sincerely. “Is this what you want? A relationship?”

“I just know I’d like you to be here. Whether as a friend or—more.”

A bittersweet smile breaks from your lips. “Well, I like you. It turned out you’re just what I needed to… start this chapter in my life, as confusing as it may be. And I do like it here.”

“The town folk like you as well.”

You frown. “You mean they got used to me.”

“That counts.”

You spend a few seconds simply admiring him, thanking the Maker that you stumbled upon such a lovely and kind man.

“Do you want a relationship?” he asks in return.

“I haven’t… been in one, so I can’t say with certainty.”

“Then how about we keep doing what we do without worrying about the future?”

He smiles fondly as he takes your hand into his and it triggers a smile out of you too.

Seems you found a temporary place to stay.

“I like the idea of doing what we do,” you tease.

“It’s good, isn’t it?”

“Oh, it’s more than good.”

You press a chaste kiss on his cheek and set to clean the table. Although it fills you with insecurity and doubt, it feels nice to know you are wanted somewhere.

It feels warm, unlike anything you felt before. And you like it.

Tags: @doin-stuff @wild-at-heart-kept-in-cage

#cobb vanth #cobb vanth x reader #cobb vanth x female reader #cobb vanth x ofc #cobb vanth fanfiction #cobb vanth smut #cobb vanth fic #the mandalorian fanfiction

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nctrsn20 · 3 years

Text

[just a heads up but trigger warning for the Dreamies + Shorato&Sungchan]

――

N-DREAM + THE ROOKIES

MARK LEE

POSITION ― Leader-Boss of DREAM, All Rounder

RELATIONSHIP STATUS ― Strictly Unavailable [colleagues to lovers]

IMPORTANT SIBLING(S)/RELATIVE(S) ―

IMPORTANT FRIEND ―

CURRENT LOCATION & DESTINATION ― PARIS ⤍ KOREA

I swear Mark is exactly like Peter Parker

now introducing the boss and leader of DREAM, Mark Lee

a young, handsome and polite man which all girls kind of having a thing for him (both in the mafia organization and in school)

but when it comes to work, he is a mixture of Kun and Taeyong

he is nice like Kun but he doesn't take bullshits just like Taeyong (and he gets pretty scary when his love ones especially his bestfriend are involved in his businesses - expect Mark not to be nice and probably knowing he is going to kill you by the end of the night)

very hard-working individual

he jumps from helping 127 and to be Dream's leader, basically helping the young ones and lead them - he HAS A LOT of plate to handle but he is lucky that he has Haechan to relate to

but there is someone he would easily get everything and anything out of his chest and that would be Mark's best friend and crush

she knows everything about Mark - vice versa and how did they know each other? well, they kind of met thanks to Lee Taeyong (you see, Mark's bestfriend is Taeyong's sister)

they met in Taeyong's company building where all 23 members work at and tbh it was iconic because she came in barging into the level where the 23 members located - that area is strictly prohibited to outsiders and ONLY a few staff could enter (and Mark plus some of the 127 members were there at that point of time and strangely they just asked Mark to lead her when he doesn't even know her, but it looks like the older members knew her because they kind of greeted her nicely and cutely which is rare to see the older ones do that)

and ofc gentleman+awkward Mark lead her to where Taeyong is and from there, Mark finds out that she is Taeyong's sister (Mark feels dumb but it's okay bcs she actually doesn't introduce herself as Taeyong's sister for safety reasons - it was weird for Mark, he kept on bumping onto her even when she visited Taeyong for both business purposes and for siblings time)

he also finds out that she went to to same college as him (as well as the other Dream members' partners, it was all a coincidence that Mark's crush is friends with the other Dream members' partners)

and because she is Taeyong's sister, she would always be invited to parties that are made by Taeyong or the other members. (in result all of them became friends and consider a family, she is even friends' with all 23 members' partners - she is a social butterfly)

whenever they are talking in the corner of the room, the older members would look at her and Mark - observing Mark from far and they kind of guessed that Mark somehow likes her, just seeing the way his body language shows

they are right, Mark indeed likes her ever since she kind of confronted Taeyong on giving Mark missions back to back (Mark finds out that it lead into a huge argument between her and Taeyong - actually everyone finds out they were screaming in Taeyong's office till Taeyong's girl and a few of the 127 members had to step in)

and let's just say Mark is a HUGE mess ever since he sees her as his crush (Haechan would always push him to confess to her but the leader would always stutter - like how can you easily shoot someone on the head but can't even say 3 simple words?)

HUANG RENJUN / HWANG INJOON

POSITION ― Sniper, [Main] Weapon Expertise

RELATIONSHIP STATUS ― In A Relationship [high school friends to lovers]

IMPORTANT SIBLING(S)/RELATIVE(S) ―

IMPORTANT FRIEND ―

CURRENT LOCATION & DESTINATION ― KOREA

the weapon expertise and a skilled shooter that was acknowledged by Johnny

our Renjun has a tiny wincy incy bit of temper but is tolerable (usually Mark would easily calm him down but we ALL know who is the one who could just calm down his emotions with just showing herself up)

honestly, Renjun is mostly calm with the 23 members but when it's only the Dream members or they are in a meeting, in the end of the day he would either argue with Haechan or Mark about a mission or business

but when it involves physical fight (not with the Dream members though, they always have a soft spot no matter how things get tough), no one could stop Renjun other than his best friend

both of them are friends ever since high school and she was literally his ride or die friend which turned into his crush best friend (Renjun was known to be a tsundere in school and she was well, we will get to her story in her own part, a girl version of Lucas but she is more tone down and she dates the popular ones back in high school)

fast forward to college where all the Dream members attended (and so as their partners), she and Renjun as usual are close as ever not until she dated a guy that was lowkey rivals with Renjun - basically the Huangs'

it was obvious he dated her to get NCTs' information but here is the thing, she doesn't hang out in NCT's residence that much (due to her work and school stuff, she was somehow naïve)

fast forward Renjun and the rest of the members find out that the guy cheated on Renjun's best friend and things went down yall (Renjun got into a fist fight with him and ofc the Dreamies had to call her and that's when things literally went downhill)

she and Renjun got into a huge argument, it's just messy until Renjun couldn't take it anymore and literally shouted those 3 words which is 'I love you' and our homegirl is shook (and Renjun started avoiding her and she just went to NCT's residence crying after Mark and Haechan spill everything to her - Dream members couldn't take it anymore after seeing Renjun basically crying and just wasn't himself for a few weeks)

according to Mark and Haechan, Renjun told them that he has always like her every since high school and till now, his feelings never change - he likes how confident she is, how protective and caring she is (and to Renjun, the way she flirts with him was different from how she flirts with other guys) although she had did things that break his heart (dating others, basically seeing her in campus)

he really loves her that he would kill someone if they wants her head

and let's just say at the end of that day, our homeboy Renjun got a kiss that he always wanted, which was on the lips - and from there, both of them worked things out and now we have a bad-ass couple

LEE JENO

POSITION ― [High-Rank] Soldier, Hitman [hand to hand combat expertise]

RELATIONSHIP STATUS ― In A Relationship [best friend to lovers]

IMPORTANT SIBLING(S)/RELATIVE(S) ―

IMPORTANT FRIEND ―

CURRENT LOCATION & DESTINATION ― KOREA

now let's welcome the hitman of the group, Lee Jeno

to be honest, he is considered an all-rounder BUT Taeyong acknowledges him to be a hitman after seeing him basically attacking and ending up killing one of Taeyong's enemies with just his bare-hands

mind-blowing because Jeno is the quietest and somehow calm and to know he could just kill someone with a pair of hands? damn

it was insane to see his duality that the 127 members could only look at Jeno with open mouth (they were shookth) and of course everyone knows not to make Jeno angry or being in his red list

one day, somehow rumors got into the kids in the mafia school that Jeno murdered someone and out of a sudden kids started to gang up on him

though mostly the Dream members as well as their partners back up Jeno (since Dream members know the exact story) and most of them were willing to get hurt just to protect their friend, but Jeno would tell them to stay out of it

but of course one wouldn't listen to him and let's welcome our savior of Jeno's life, his best friend aka his crush ever since they were in middle school

his crush is a sweet individual and most people were quite weirded out to see him getting along with her, both of their personalities kind of the opposite (they didn't know that the reason why they are able to be friends, much more than friends - best friends)

will explain more about his crush istg i love Jeno's girl Jeno secretly loves her bad-ass/aggressive side which was the day when sadly, his crush gets nearly expelled - so what had happened was Jeno got into a fist fight with a group of boys and there was a commotion obviously which lead Jeno's crush and her friends (which were Dream's partners) to the area

basically Jeno was being ganged up and beaten - her friends were shook that she decided to get involved which was rare and seeing how aggressive she got when she shove one of Jeno's attacker and started throwing out strong punches to the point when the boy screamed bloodily (and her friends had to hold her back, it was so sudden and frightening to see the look she gave)

and all of them was basically sent to the principal's office and let's just say Kun was being called too (he is the dean of the college they are attending) - and everyone receives punishment equally but the group of boys who gang up on Jeno were given much more heavier punishment

the next thing happen that made all of the Dream members step aside was hearing harsh words coming from Jeno as a result the two of them were shouting at each other in frustration until one of them accidentally said 'i love you'

but those words weren't coming form Jeno - it was from her (it was all a sudden but she meant it)

let's just say at the end of that argument, both of them shed more tears in each other arms and getting a kiss on the lips - and a full-time committed relationship

now knowing that jeno thought he knows her best friend-lover too well until he somehow figured out a secret that she has been keeping from him and everyone around her for too long

LEE DONGHYUCK / HAECHAN

POSITION ― [High-Rank] Soldier, All-Rounder

RELATIONSHIP STATUS ― In A Relationship [acquaintances to lovers]

IMPORTANT SIBLING(S)/RELATIVE(S) ―

IMPORTANT FRIEND ―

CURRENT LOCATION & DESTINATION ― KOREA

the troublemaker and an all-round (just like Mark)

he and Mark runs from 127 to Dream back and forth and he is positioned to do all kinds of roles (sniper, assassin, hitman, decoy) according to Mark and Taeyong's instructions

very loud individual and you can hear him screaming or just talking in full-caps somewhere in NCT's residence (Taeyong, together with Kun and Mark actually made their own residence - combining three huge houses together as their home, a place for the ones who doesn't a place to live or when there are missions back to back so 127, WAYV and DREAM has their own houses but the fun part is that their houses is just the opposite of each other)

and interestingly all of sudden he became strangely quiet whenever a very familiar looking girl walks into NCT's residence together with the other older members along with their partner's

you see, Haechan has a huge crush on Jungwoo's and Jaemin's partner's sister and although they were in the same circle of friends, she and Haechan didn't talk much and that's because she is a busy girl while Haechan is too shy to make the first move

but all that shyness has to be put down when Taeyong gave Haechan work to do which was to become the bodyguard to her (apparently her sisters were in danger which lead to Haechan's crush being involve too)

basically they started talking and both were becoming more comfortable with each other that Haechan would always hangs out with her in school and be clingy to her and as usual being his usual loud self (and she is the only one who can keep up with Haechan's clinginess which the other members would call her if they couldn't handle him)

when Haechan started to realize he is in love or already fell for her is when he was summoned into the meeting room with 127 (and for the first time, Jungwoo wasn't there and that's because he was in another country, on a hide out with his girl), telling Haechan that a group of syndicate is trying to kill his crush's bloodline (apparently her family has a lot of hatred just because they have the most gold-basically-rich which is ridiculous)

so she was forced to stay in NCT's residence (together with her younger sister whom were just a few months younger which would be introduce as Jaemin's partner) and by then Haechan already confirmed his feelings for her after they kind of cuddled together as well as having the deep talk regarding her life and it's just different

and when Haechan thinks the situation was eased down and thinking that he could make his move, turns out it was the opposite of what he thinks - and to summarize, his crush end up being the hostage making ALL of NCT members' to move their feet after seeing Haechan basically turn into rage

Haechan was a mess alright, he was mad, frustrated, kind of pissed with himself and also scared (at the end of the day, he was the savior of the night - he was the one who personally took her out of the basement of where the syndicate lives)

the rest was history with interestingly her being the first one to confess to him and Haechan making the first move on kissing her right in front of the members (iconic)

NA JAEMIN

POSITION ― [High-Rank] Soldier, Hitman

RELATIONSHIP STATUS ― Complicated [high school friends to lovers]

IMPORTANT SIBLING(S)/RELATIVE(S) ―

IMPORTANT FRIEND ―

CURRENT LOCATION & DESTINATION ― KOREA

the deadly cute hitman of the group (well Chenle, Jisung and Shotaro are cute but they are different type of cute)

while Jeno is more to a hand-to-hand hitman, Jaemin uses Renjun's newly made weapons on his targets (and again, Jeno and Jaemin are somehow soulmates - they work together, hangout together)

although Jeno is always with him, school somehow separated them since they were taking different subjects (this is in high-school) and that's how he gets to meet his crush, which is also a sister to Jungwoo's and Jeno's partner in a not-so-good situation

Jaemin is known to be that cute introvert individual who does his own thing and sadly, boys who had jealousy of Jaemin's good looks would find ways to tease him or just made fun of him (Jaemin would usually shrug them off and Jeno would always be the one to back him up)

until one day when Jaemin steps out of the school building and he was randomly pushed down and all he remember was huge throbbing on his head from being kicked and punched then hearing groans and yells from the boys before passing out

and when he woke-up kind-of, he saw blurry image of Taeyong, Jeno and a girl in a corner, he couldn't see her face clearly but all he could remember was she had a blonde hair and she was wearing a leather jacket (and he passed out again poor Jaemin he wasn't in a good condition)

Jaemin would return to school a few days later and strangely, there were new rumors regarding a girl, that was also mentioned with Jungwoo's and Jeno's partner's names, coming back and of course as a NCT member he put two and two together (she was the one who save him and she is the sister to both of Jungwoo's and Jeno's partner and they are known to be well-known in their own ways, especially the youngest one. it would be explain in her own profile/moodboard)

honestly during lunchtime, they would make a few eye-contact from far. Jaemin as usual with Jeno and the Dream members while she was in her own clique (this is before she joined Elinovas Angel, she had her own clique in high school)

the reason why Dream members didn't approach her nor her clique or herself is because both groups are kind of rivals secretly (but all of them are chill though and THAT IS BECAUSE of her saving one of the Dream members so it's a win-win situation)

the first time Jaemin approach her was when she was just minding her own business in the cafeteria, sitting alone, reading a paper while munching an apple (apparently the way Jaemin approach kind of her made her choke slightly, causing her to almost fell from her back and that's when Jaemin perfectly caught her, IN his arms all of a sudden it's like a k-drama or something) let's just say they were lost in each others eyes with her basically yeeting out of his arms with a flushed face

THAT was the moment when they kind of were attracted of each other

the rest of high school days were actually pretty memorable because he actually made friends with her BUT in secret , thanks to Taeyong and the older member's parties, Jaemin had his chance to make her trust him as they had this cute bond with each other since she attended the events as a sister to Jungwoo's and Jeno's partners (Jaemin already consider her as his best friend maybe more than that, he is still confused with his own feelings)

but things started to get out of hand nearly graduation when all of a sudden Jaemin and Dream members were being approached by her clique, needing Jaemin's help that one of their members which was Jaemin's best friend/crush was being held hostage (and everyone was shocked to see how Jaemin's face turned from normal to rage - he literally ran out of the school compound)

within an hour with Jaemin rushing to Taeyong and getting the information he needs, Jaemin founds her and he was horrified after seeing her body literally laying on the basement and she looked like she was beaten (Jaemin was crying when he was driving his way to NCT's residence - everyone was shook to see him cry because in every missions they did, he had never show his vulnerable side, this was the first and it isn't even a mission tbh)

he would stay by her side - he even neglected his own daily needs. he wouldn't leave her side even when the Dream members or the older members would softly ask him to eat or take a rest. that was the moment when everyone figured out that Jaemin loves her (it was obvious with the way Jaemin looked at her sleeping face - and deep down, Jaemin even knows he care for her, adored her and love her)

ZHONG CHENLE

POSITION ― [High-Rank] Tech Specialist

RELATIONSHIP STATUS ― Complicated [high school friends to lovers]

IMPORTANT SIBLING(S)/RELATIVE(S) ―

IMPORTANT FRIEND ― Felix Lee (Stray Kids)

CURRENT LOCATION & DESTINATION ― KOREA

the cute and sassy tech specialist

if Jeno and Jaemin are a pair, Chenle is with Jisung (the two youngest were assigned to be the tech specialist, at the same time the main guards of NCT's residence so they are always in front of multiple PCs' and they are the ones who would accept outsiders in - that's how much Taeyong trust the youngests)

Chenle loves his job tbh that's because he get to plan out booby-traps for unwelcome visitors and most of them would be killed instantly by Chenle and Jisung's booby-traps (the older members were shookth to see a few dead bodies in front of their main door - and they found out Chenle and Jisung had used Yangyang's poison air-gas and somehow put them in balloons)

being tech specialist, he rarely comes out to do missions since Taeyong doesn't allow him and Jisung too - but when Taeyong or Mark really needs a last minute back-up, that would be Chenle (the young one has his own back-up team)

until one day, a unfamiliar girl and obviously unwelcomed ran into NCT's residence - there are multiple CCTV's in their residence (they could even see what's going on WAYV and 127 residence) and it was weird to Chenle because he couldn't recognize her since he knows everyone who is somehow friends and are associates to the 23 members

so instead of as usual activating the booby-traps, Chenle's guts tell him to go out there personally armed with a gun and asking Jisung to keep a watch out and in the end his guts were right (it was Winwin's younger sister whom Winwin himself didn't talk much since she is always abroad and she looked pretty terrified)

now the thing about Chenle is he isn't too friendly with people he doesn't know EVEN though they are friend with the other members (except for the Elinovas Angels, Chenle really really treats them like his own guardian/older sisters) but strangely, he didn't know why he has this feeling of wanting to protect her - seeing how fragile she look at that exact moment (dude Chenle was concern, she looked like she was crying on the way here and he actually guided her to WAYV's residence since she barged into DREAM's)

and after that night, Chenle strangely kept thinking of her and in result of him asking Winwin what is going on and he was shook to find out his biological sister was about to be in a arranged married with a psychopath and an abuser (and without thinking Chenle started to give out plans and he didn't realise Winwin was shook to hear how concern he is because Chenle IS NEVER to be the one to get in others business)

Winwin being the good older brother actually listens to Chenle and one was to ask her to stay in NCT's residence and to ask her to enroll into where Dream members are currently studying in which was Kun's college (eventually she enrolled and all of the Dream's partners' are sweet enough to greet her, making her comfortable as she joins the group and eventually Elinovas Angels)

everyday, Chenle sticks to her and both of them are already comfortable with each other, not knowing what was about to come in the future

and one frightening day, Chenle receives a hand-written letter from her and he came running almost crying to Winwin about what was written - he was shocked and hurt that she decided to surrender after receiving threats regarding to attack NCT's residence and Taeyong's company building (what he didn't tell Winwin is that she actually wrote a separate letter for Chenle, confessing that she actually fell for him - he was nice, patient and just his own self unlike other mafia man she knows. she also revealed that if she stayed longer, she would fall completely for Chenle)

that part actually made Chenle hurt the most, he could just cry on the spot but his mind was much faster to run to Winwin to save her from doing something stupid (which was marrying that bastard)

for the first time, out of all missions, he decided to personally rescue her along with WAYV members

iconic and everyone sees Chenle's protective and loving side, he is lowkey to his own members but for the first time, everyone could see his vulnerable side openly (and expect to see Chenle calming the almost raging Winwin and his sister who almost gonna cry and that made Chenle kind of more protective)

PARK JISUNG

POSITION ― [High-Rank] Tech Specialist

RELATIONSHIP STATUS ― Strictly Unavailable [childhood friends to lovers]

IMPORTANT SIBLING(S)/RELATIVE(S) ―

IMPORTANT FRIEND ―

CURRENT LOCATION & DESTINATION ― KOREA

another cute tech specialist but Jisung is somewhat an angel while Chenle is the devil ajaja

an introvert so Taeyong decided to put him as the tech specialist, together with Chenle (and Taeyong sees Jisung as someone who is still a minor and although this organization is ruthless, Taeyong still cares for the young ones and wants them to be ready when they know they are ready themselves)

everyone babies him tbh and they are protective of him

even his own childhood best friend whom is a younger sister to Lucas, is protective of Jisung

this two are always together - yes, even when they are babies that's because both of their family are friends, close friends

and both Jisung's and his childhood friend's families are known for their own reputation (Jisung's would be having scary parents and hers would be having rich parents)

until one day during middle school, she approached Jisung with tears running down her cheeks - telling him that she had to go, which was to move out since something went wrong within her family business

you see middle school Jisung is different than the now!Jisung, he was happy back then, kind of cheerful although no one wants to befriend him and that's because of his childhood bff (she was always there for him, she went to his soccer tournament, she even attended all of his birthday parties)

Jisung didn't have the time to be shock nor surprised because it was that day itself where his best friend has to go (so throughout the day of his best friend's last day of school, he was being extra clingy with her, accompanying her everywhere)

he decided to follow her all the way to the airport, not surprised when his family was there too to bid their goodbyes' (kind of felt betrayed that they didn't tell him but ofc he didn't care for now since his main focus is his bff)

and everyone is shookth to see Jisung crying while hugging his bff and ofc she had to be the positive one, patting the boy's back - saying she would be back (but both of them know that isn't the case)

fast forward to 4 years later, Jisung meets her at the high school he attended along with some of the Dream members but surprisingly, she was with Lucas (he was again shook because he didn't know at that time that they were siblings and again, he felt betrayed but again that didn't matter)

Jisung didn't approach her though, that's because he didn't know what to feel (during that 4 years without being with each other, Jisung somehow went through the phase of being alone and at some point and as a result, he learn to be independent - and that's how he joined NCT)

until 2 days later where NCT and their partners' were invited for Taeyong's annual party and all of the members' siblings were invited - and from the corner, Jisung saw her along with Lucas (of course some of the Dream members have to call Jisung since the boy wasn't too attentive and Jisung swore that she looked like she didn't want to be there)

and he was right, Jisung followed her quietly - seeing her going to the swimming pool, sitting down on the edge while soaking her feet (the members encourage him to go to her though, and Jisung didn't waste any time to approach her)

the moment he said his first words and locking his eyes with hers, he was stunned on how beautiful she looks - the dim lights in the corners of the pool reflect through the water and to her (let's just say Jisung found out what had happened to her during the 4 years and he didn't know she suffered too - and they ended that conversation with an apology towards each other and hugs of comfort)

since then and fast forward to college, they were as close as ever and at some point, Jisung learnt that his best friend changed slightly (at one time, a group of boys somehow decided to tease him and she decided to step forwards and again Jisung is stunned to see that his best friend know how to fight)

and at one point of time, Jisung realizes that he is falling for his best friend when a boy in school approaches her to get her number but in the end he didn't get one (that's because she likes Jisung too hehe)

THE EXCELLENT ROOKIES

OSAKI SHOTARO

POSITION ― Rookie Tech Specialist

RELATIONSHIP STATUS ― Unavailable but In Love, Deeply [best friends to lovers]

IMPORTANT SIBLING(S)/RELATIVE(S) ―

IMPORTANT FRIEND ―

CURRENT LOCATION & DESTINATION ― KOREA

1/2 of the A star rookies that was voted by the leaders of all 3 groups

he looks like an angel but he is more than that

he is actually good at hacking and so Taeyong decided to put him under Chenle and Jisung's care (although he is older than them, but Chenle and Jisung are more experienced)

we would wonder how Shotaro joined NCT? it was actually through his parents (unfortunately through a saddened incident of a syndicate barging into Osakis' residence, they were almost slaughtered but it was actually thanks to Yuta that they were saved - the NCT member was close with Shotaro so they keep tabs with each other)

his parents entrusted NCT on taking care of Shotaro (and since then Shotaro lives with the Dream members. he learns how to be independent with the help of the NCT members)

and with that he is immediately enrolled to schools that Kun owns (he had attended high school which when he met his now best friend)

he is a shy bub and at that time, he was already somehow a member of NCT (all rookies in NCT will definitely end up as a NCT member, and as usual all NCT members will gain huge attention in schools)

everyone was gossiping about a cute guy that looked like an otter joining the school and stuff and so Shotaro was being seen in the hallways (all girls adore him tbh, he is the only member who looks endearing - even when he doesn't smile)

Shotaro was so committed to school that he joined a club which was the basketball club ! (honestly the basketball club was shook and excited that they have a NCT member and all of them were nice and supportive guys which were rare to find)

and the cheerleaders room and basketball room is just 2 doors away from each other - guess who met one of the well-known cheerleader, yes our otter cheerleader

so what had happened was Shotaro and the boys were leaving to grab drinks and coincidentally, the door of the cheerleaders' room opens abruptly with one of the members exiting the room with her phone on her hand (and guess WHO accidentally bumped into her, yes Shotaro)

followed by hearing deep gasps and the sound of a phone crashing down on the floor, silence decided to cover the area and the first one to move is Shotaro to gather the broken phone while apologizing to her numerously (and what made Shotaro widen his eyes was hearing her answer which was "it's okay, well, at least i get to avoid my annoying older brother. don't worry the damage will be on me though")

and with that, she left quickly and the boys started started to ask Shotaro if he was okay or did she just threaten him and ofc Shotaro was confused on who they were talking about (then Shotaro was being told that she was actually NCT Johnny's adopted younger sister and they kind of had a fall out and stuff - there were rumors about her that she was being adopted and it was sad she had to find out by the rumors itself)

her face and her impression kind of stuck onto his mind that Shotaro couldn't help but steal glances towards her whenever he saw her in the hallway or during lunch (basically a tsundere to him)

according to Shotaro's point of view, she would always be seen with her own clique, in the middle of the girls who were gossiping while she was on the phone looking unbothered at the same time answering her friends (and somehow they both caught each other's eyes that Shotaro froze and as for her, she slight smiled at him before looking away *cue Shotaro panicking and feeling butterflies on his stomach*)

the next moment they met was at Taeil's party and as usual everyone was invited, which includes Shotaro - and when he arrived, guess who saw the girl looking grumpy as she followed her tall older brother? Shotaro of course (she doesn't look impressed at all as she follows her older brother as he was talking to his own friends - and at one time she slips off as she wander around)

and while Shotaro wanders to find the Dream members and her walking off making small talks with Dream members' partners, they again bumped into each other but this time she was about to fall by her back and Shotaro who has fast reflex caught her by her sides (that's when they had a FACE TO FACE eye contact and not wanting the situation to be an awkward one, she started the conversation first which lead them to exchange numbers)

which just an exchange of phone numbers, both of them became close which means they kind of know each others' habits and because she trusted Shotaro, she even told him her secrets - well not a secret since everyone found out from a rumor (Shotaro remembered that she called him in the middle of the night, as she was crying and being the gentleman he is, he came to her and they just sat on the stairs right outside of Dream's residence)

their friendship kind of grew from there till they graduate and attending the same college as the other Dream members (and of course they are accepted in the Dream clique since they know each other through the other members)

and Shotaro is slowly falling for her and everyone knows that especially the members - with how he looks at her and how he just communicates with her, he thinks he knows everything about her but there is just one secret he didn't know about her which will one day save Shotaro's life (will be revealed in her own profile)

JUNG SUNGCHAN

POSITION ― Rookie Sniper

RELATIONSHIP STATUS ― Complicated [childhood friends to lovers]

IMPORTANT SIBLING(S)/RELATIVE(S) ―

IMPORTANT FRIEND ―

CURRENT LOCATION & DESTINATION ― KOREA

another A star rookie that picked by the 3 leaders

kind of opposite with Shotaro tbh

he doesn't look like an angel and he isn't an angel due to his tragic past

though he was chosen because of his skills and abilities which is a sniper, Taeyong actually found him walking mindlessly on the street

was it a coincidence? well kind of. Taeyong was actually on his way to personally kill his parents for what they did to innocent people and seeing their son walking mindlessly with blood stains on his clothes, kind of coincidence isn't it?

so Taeyong kind of took him and that's when the mafia leader knew the kid somehow just found out the truth on what his parents did and he was ashamed tbh (ofc who wouldn't be ashamed finding out your parents kidnapped children, trained them to become weapons and somehow tortured them in the middle)

and that was like 5 years ago and a year passed, Sungchan lives in NCT Dream's residence at the same time attending high school along with the other Dream members

and one fine day, his class was introduced to a new classmate and Sungchan's eyes widened as soon as he recognized that stone-cold face and his classmates were definitely a positive kind of bunch as they excitedly say their 'hi's and hello's with excitement (Sungchan was the only one who didn't say his 'hi's and 'hello's, he was froze on his seat realizing that girl is his long-time childhood friend)

one thing that Sungchan loves about his childhood which he would always hold onto that whenever someone ask him regarding his childhood was actually play-dates with his childhood friend (whom is a younger sister to Taeil's wife and to Got7's leader, Lim Jaebeom)

his parents were somehow friends with hers and that's how the play-dates started, hence they attended the same middle school (both of them were the innocent ones when it comes to their parents' works but she was smart to find out things since her parents' were assassins)

and with Sungchan escaping from his house after sneaking and hearing their conversation, and he got caught by his parents' men in result of Sungchan getting physical by stabbing them, hence he out of nowhere cut off contact with his childhood friend

Sungchan knew she still recognize him after seeing her face grew more cold, after making a 2 second eye contact as she turned away to find her seat and through-out the day, she didn't even approach him instead she just walked passed him - and that went on for a month

until he decided to approach and let's just say it didn't go well in the middle - with him grabbing her arm since she just ignore him and them basically yelling at each other but what made Sungchan stop on the 'yelling competition' is seeing her tears finally falling and in result of Sungchan crying too after hearing her confessing what she felt for the passed few years without him

and so 2 childhood friends were reunited and one fine day as they were enjoying lunch in school, all hell break loose after hearing non-stop gunshots then seeing a notorious faces of syndicates that Sungchan knew (and strangely before Sungchan decided to make his move, his childhood friend was fast enough to hold onto his hand as they make a run for it)

they were smart to realize that those men were actually after Sungchan and Sungchan couldn't even process everything that day as he only remembered arriving to NCT's residence with all of the members basically running around (basically 127 and WAYV trying to calm down the panicked Kun at the same time worrying for Sungchan and Dream members worrying for Sungchan and his friend)

a few days later, Sungchan was acting weird towards her - avoiding her at the same time not replying to her texts which made her super annoyed, that one fine Saturday night, there was a loud knocks on Dream's residence door and poor Shotaro opens the door to see her raging and wanting to talk to Sungchan who was busy playing FIFA with Jisung and Chenle on the 2nd level

sweet Shotaro guided her and the atmosphere grew tense after Jisung see Sungchan's friend standing with cold glares towards Sungchan and ofc Jisung had to nudge on Chenle and he had to nudge onto Sungchan (honestly it's comedy peak) and ofc ChenJi had to escape from that suffocating atmosphere

Sungchan knew at that moment he was going to have another 'yelling competition' but instead she just sat beside Sungchan quietly and said "please don't do that, I already lost a few people that I love. you are the last person that I don't want to lose."

and they cried in each other's' arms again after finding out the truth about what happened to her family and Sungchan found out that she knew what had happened to him back then (and so much more that Sungchan wanted her to join NCT but she can't because of Taeyong agreeing with Jaebeom on business related stuff and weirdly about her too)

so from that moment onwards till college, there were no secrets between her and Sungchan and they continue to become that type of bestfriends with Sungchan asking her to come to parties or events that the members could invite someone and she would constantly had to remind him that his older sister is married to the oldest member in NCT and of course she has to come

but there was something that Sungchan couldn't tell her face to face and he had no choice to make it as a secret - and that would be confessing to her about his feelings (which was liking her ever since they were in middle school and falling in love with her in the present time)

[ MASTERLIST ]

[ N-DREAM'S SOULMATES ]

[ N-127 MOODBOARDS ] - [ 127'S SOULMATES ]

[ N-WAYV MOODBOARDS ] - [ N-WAYV's SOULMATES ]

#nct dream mafia au #nct shotaro mafia au #nct sungchan mafia au #nct dream scenarios #nct dream imagines #nct shotaro scenarios #nct sungchan scenarios #nct shotaro imagines #nct sungchan imagines

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royallyprincesslilly · 4 years

Text

Title: Crown For Two {1}

Henry Cavill AU x OFC Xari Thornton AU

Warning: Plot, Mild Cursing, Cheesy Christmas Themes,

Words: 6.1k

Summary: Xari Thornton is a travel photographer with a blog and social media that garners some heavy-duty traffic. People tune in to see where she is and what she’s doing there, all in hopes of either living vicariously through her or to plan their next vacation.

Her slogan; “Traveling the path to the most off-beaten places, so you don’t have to.”

Her next stop on her four destination travel itinerary of “Places You May Never Have Heard Of” is Sandvell, a small European country. When her plane makes an impromptu stop due to bad weather, she has no idea where she is. It feels like she’s stepped inside of a snow globe and back in time in a modern way. It leaves her fascinated.

This bad weather forces her to stay at an Inn, The Beaux, for the night. Rather than letting the hours tick by in her room, she explores and meets the friendly locals. While taking photographs, one local in particular captures her lens with eyes as blue as the ocean and a jaw that was chiseled from stone. They strike up conversation during their time drinking at one of the local bars, Ickles. Once they separate, she gets herself into a harrowing situation.

As soon as she awakens, she realizes she’s not in some fever dream, but a palace and the owner of the palace is none other than the local she met before with the piercing blue eyes, His Royal Highness Henry Wellington Leopold Danglishton, First of his name, Crown Prince of Brexendor.

Note: All right, all right people, the ride begins. I really, really hope you enjoy this. As a note, it’s going to be fast-paced a bit, and I am gonna overload you with pictures because why the hell not, it’s a Christmas Fic. 😁 Feel free to come by and tell me what you guys think.

As always, thank you all for reading, I appreciate each and every one of you.

If you enjoyed this, please, LIKE, COMMENT, REBLOG!!! ❤️❤️

***Loosely Edited/Proofread***

***Interactive***

***Picture Heavy***

Chapter One

“You were supposed to be on your way home.”

You rolled your eyes as you scoffed. You’d mentioned nights ago that you thought you should just go home, but then you went to your next destination. It was a moment of weakness or it could have been loneliness. Your schedule took a lot out of you. No one saw it because it was all behind the scenes. All anyone ever saw were the incredible places you went to, the fun things you experienced, and the culture you soaked up. What they grasped was whatever you posted in your pictures.

“You know I can’t. I started this series, and it’s gotten the eye of a lot of sponsors, and one of them is even talking about some really big ideas at the end of it if it goes really well. that could be incredible for my brand,” you explained.

Anika sighed loudly. You knew she was annoyed with you right now, especially it being December.

“I know you’re disappointed. I’m sorry. I’ll make it up to you.”

“Whatever.”

“Attention, ladies and gentlemen, this is your captain speaking. It looks like we’re headed right into a storm. We’ll be experiencing a little turbulence as we veer off course a little bit as we try to evade this thing. Please return to your seats and fasten your seatbelts.”

You sighed while buckling your seatbelt, preparing for what was coming.

“What’s happening?”

“Going through some turbulence. It should be fine,” you assured your sister.

“Ma’am, I’m sorry, but you’re going to have to hang up.”

You nodded to the flight attendant and promptly ended the call promising your sister that you’d call her back when you landed in Sandvell. As soon as you hung up, the turbulence began. It started out with slight bumps, that you could sip your drink through. Then graduated to bigger bumps that had you gripping the elbow rests. When the entire plane started to shake, your heart leaped into your throat. One minute passed, then two, and after five minutes or so, the speaker came back on.

“Ladies and gentleman, your captain again. We’re going to be landing shortly. This storm is not one to be messed with. I apologize for the inconvenience, folks, but on this airline, we choose safety above all else.”

You weren’t going to argue with him. You definitely didn’t want to risk your life over getting to your next destination. What was a one or two day delay? Once the pilot got to a lower altitude, the majority of the turbulence subsided. It was another ten minutes before the plane landed, but when it did, all you could see from the window was white overcast with darkness.

When you had your belongings gathered and began walking off the plane along with the other fifty or so passengers, you tried to find cell service, but you had zero bars.

“Excuse me, where are we?”

“Uh—I’m actually not sure, ma’am. Patricia, where are we?”

The two flight attendants looked puzzled. The second asked a third, and that third asked another. None of them seemed to know. That was not a good sign, you thought. Once you’d walked down the long corridor that served as the connection between the airport and the plane, you found yourself in one of the classiest airports you’d ever been in, and you’d been inside quite a few as a travel blogger. As far as the eye could see, it was class, with the exception of the floor.

You looked around you and marveled at the detail in the design that was around you. Where most airports were mainly logically designed without lavishness. This one looked like lavishness was the first priority. The floors looked to be made from the finest paonazzetto marble. You remembered the name because of the substantial time you’d spent in Italy trying to capture architecture through your camera lens. Reaching for your camera around your neck, you began snapping a few frames of the floor. Getting lost in picture taking, you found yourself at one of the many glass windows snapping pictures of the airplanes on the tarmac.

Hearing the commotion of raised voices behind you, you looked back and saw the passengers of the plane you’d just disembarked from gathered in a huddle. You walked back toward them in time to catch a question from a concerned passenger.

“How long are we delayed? When will we get back in the air? I have to get to Sandvell.”

A man wearing a mixture of royal blue and white colors cleared his throat then spoke. “I apologize, ladies and gentlemen, for the delay. There is a storm heading right for us on the path to Sandvell. Continuing through it would be lunacy. Our only viable option is to wait it out.”

No one seemed to like that answer. All the questions flew out at once. All their voices overlapped, and you could tell that the gentleman was overwhelmed by not only the volume of questions but also their voices.

“According to our team here, we’re expecting possibly a twenty-four to thirty-six-hour delay.”

Everyone groaned in unison, everyone but you. You’d traveled enough to always expect the unexpected. Things like this didn’t bother you so much now, three years into your career. The only thing that bothered you now was that you’d have to rearrange your hotel plans as well as finding somewhere to sleep tonight.

“You said here,” you began with all eyes trained to you. “Where exactly is here?”

The gentleman cleared his throat again. “Brexendor.”

The crowd murmured as they looked at each other. Clearly, no one had ever heard of Brexendor. Some even pulled out their travel map to scour it for the country.

“So what are we supposed to do now? Where do we stay?”

“We are in the process of arranging accommodations at one of the inns within the capital. If you all would work with us so we have your names to get your luggage to you in a timely fashion so you can be shuttled over to the Inn, that would be appreciated.”

Everyone filed into a line in front of one of the four airport staff, hoping to hurry matters along while you searched your phone for any information on where you were. When you typed in Brexendor into the search engine, the first thing that popped up was a map of the country. Apparently, it was next door to Sandvell. They were considered sister countries.

“Population three million, run as a monarchy, considered one of the wealthiest countries in the world. Average life expectancy one hundred and ten years. Well, damn.”

Someone clearing their throat brought your attention up in front of you. You were next in line.

“Sorry.”

The woman with brown eyes and blonde hair smiled warmly. “It’s all right, Ms--.”

“Uh, Thornton, Xari Thornton.” You handed her your passport and boarding pass and waited as she scrolled through her tablet.

“Ah yes, Ms. Thornton. Here is your paperwork. On it, you will find where you can retrieve your luggage and the shuttle number that will be taking you to the Inn. Once at the Inn, just provide your name, and you will find everything has been taken care of. On behalf of Brexendor Aviation, we humbly apologize for this snafu.”

Her customer service training was on point, you thought. Her smile was warm, as if she really meant the words she’d just said. Finding it refreshing, you took the paperwork and proceeded to where she was motioning. Everyone you passed as you walked the fancy halls had a warm smile plastered to their face and even warmer words of welcome. You felt as if you’d stepped through into some alternate universe. You made a voice note about everything you encountered. You wanted to make sure you captured your authentic feelings and reactions in real-time. It made writing about your experience on the blog page easier. You’d even found that readers and supporters liked the play by play with your added thoughts. They commented it added personality.

Once you’d made it to the baggage claim area, your jaw dropped at the change in décor. There were Christmas trees that sparsely decorated the space, and they were all lit with the same blue, silver, and white theme. It contrasted with the latte color of the leather seats and the cream offset tables. The design gave the space an elegant but also comfortable vibe. When you slipped into one of the chairs, you released an audible moan. It was like sitting on a cloud.

After gathering your luggage, you followed instructions through a hall lined with Christmas trees, stopping every so often to take a few pictures before you made it to the front of the airport. As you stepped outside, your eyebrows shot up seeing the fresh snow cascading from the sky. The bite in the air had you bundling your jacket tighter, but it did not stop you from snapping a few pictures. One turned to ten and ten to fifteen until another person clearing their throat brought you back to reality and to the waiting bus ahead of you.

You took a break from pictures and called the hotel in Sandvell, hoping to alter the dates of your stay. What you expected to be a hassle and a long drawn out process ending in them saying they were booked and nothing could be done, turned out to be quick, easy, and painless. The Luxembourg Hotel assured you that your room would still be available and there would be no charge for the altered dates. You made another note on your phone, a point you had to stress when you wrote your piece.

You continued snapping pictures from the window of the bus with an easy mind. Everything you passed seemed like it didn’t belong. It all looked so old fashioned but so modern all at the same time. The buildings looked to have been standing since the beginning of time in the materials they’d been built in, but the displays were from the twenty-first century. It was the most exciting contradiction. The only word you could think to describe it was—quaint.

When the bus drove over a bridge, you got a semi-bird’s eye view of the town across the water, and your jaw nearly dropped.

“Brexendor? What the hell?”

The entire drive had you widening your eyes like a child seeing an insane amount of presents on Christmas morning. Buildings were decked out in Christmas lights, and every door had a wreath with blue and silver Christmas ornaments. Almost every few feet, the sidewalks were decorated with poinsettia trees that were half the average human’s height, and the way the freshly fallen snow-dusted their tops only made it even more perfect.

By the time the bus stopped, you’d taken so many pictures, and part of you was dreading having to go through them to choose the ones that would make the cut. You knew it was going to be a next to impossible decision. As you stepped off the bus, you felt like you’d walked right into a snow globe.

“Holy shit!”

You spun, taking in a full three-sixty view of your surroundings. all the glistening lights and the falling snow only made it feel even more magical. You didn’t know where the hell Brexendor was or why the hell they rolled like this, but you were excited to see more. When you stopped spinning, you realized several other people were snapping pictures and looking just as marveled as you were. After gathering your luggage, you followed instructions and walked across the street to the building that a friendly looking man with slightly greying hair was standing before beckoning you inside.

For the second time that night, you felt as if you’d stepped into a Christmas movie set. The interior was set so cozy. It felt like a Christmas cottage, and you loved it. Instinct had you reaching for your camera and taking a few shots of the Christmas tree in the corner by the fireplace and the plaid decorations on the leather couch. Even the pictures on the walls got a snap.

“Miss?”

Looking back to the owner, you smiled and approached the desk.

“Hi, I’m so sorry. This place is so gorgeous.”

“Thank you. I wish I could take the credit, but it is all my wife.”

Just then, a beautiful brunette came out wearing a bright red sweater and one of those spoof reindeer antler headbands that bounced with every move.

“Hi, there darling. Welcome to The Beaux. I’m Anita, and this is my husband, Borik. I heard all about your ordeal. I’m so sorry.”

You shrugged but kept your smile plastered on your face.

“It’s all right. Can’t control the weather, right?”

Anita smiled and nodded. “Definitely not in Brexendor.”

“I have never heard of this place before, and I am lost how. Everything is gorgeous and so quaint. How have you stayed under the radar?”

Anita and Borik looked at each other with an all-knowing look that you wanted in on.

“Guess it’s just happened,” Anita cheerfully said.

You knew they knew something. Staying this under the radar, including from America, didn’t just happen. This took work. You wondered who in charge in their right mind would make a stupid decision like that.

“Okay, what’s your name, darling?”

“Uh, Xari Thornton.”

“Ah-ha, I told you, Borik. Once we were contacted with a list of names that would be checking in, and I saw your name, I told him I just know she’s gorgeous and look. You are a vision.”

You couldn’t help but smile widely while trying to keep your head under proper proportions.

“Thank you.”

“You must have quite the many suitors where you’re from,” Anita continued.

You snorted and shook your head. The reality was you were as single as the number one with no prospects.

“No suitors here.”

Both Borik and Anita looked shocked, as if you’d said the most appalling thing.

“That can’t be true. Borik. She’s single and at twenty-eight. Even our Kennedy was at least engaged by the time she turned twenty-seven. Here that is unheard of. A woman is usually married by twenty-four, especially if she’s a looker.”

You pinched your lips, trying to keep your laughter in. this was not the first time you’d been called an old maid. Hell, your mother said it often, especially since you flat out turned down Maurice’s proposal three months ago. She was livid.

Anita must have sensed the awkwardness of the moment because she cleared her throat and brought all her attention back to the reservation.

“Well, your room is prepared. I took the liberty of giving you one of our prettiest rooms. Would you like Borik to carry your bags up?”

“Uh—no, I’m sure I can manage,” you began.

Borik stood, shook his head, and came around to you.

“I won’t hear a thing about it. I’ll happily carry your luggage up. Follow me.”

“That’s my Borik, ever the gentleman,” Anita filled in with an enamored smile before Borik walked off, leaving her to check in a few of the other passengers from the plane.

You listened to Borik tell the story of the Inn and how it got its name. You kept one ear on his story while you took in every detail around you. The wood looked so rustic, and you guessed that was what gave the place such a warm and welcoming feeling. The higher you climbed, the more you saw, and the more you saw, the more you liked. You followed Borik down a hall, noticing that all the doors you passed had mini wreaths decked out in the same blue and silver ornaments like at the airport and throughout the streets.

“Ah-ha, here we are,” Borik said before he put the key into the lock and pushed the door open. Once he did, the scent of cinnamon and pine hit you in the face. It was like the hand of Christmas came out and smacked you.

“My wife loves the smell,” Borik explained as you stepped inside. You smiled and thanked him for his help.

“If you get hungry, you have a few options. There are plenty of places nearby you can eat some authentic Brexendorian food, but also my wife cooks every night, and dinner usually is at eight o’clock, but tonight Anette has agreed to keep some heated for anyone who would like some. It’s stew, rabbit.”

“Oh, thumper. Wonderful.”

Borik laughed loudly with that one. “I know that one, Bambi, the children’s cartoon. Good one Ms. Thornton.”

You smiled. “You can call me Xari, Borik.”

“Well, have a good night,” he said before he walked out.

Finally alone, the first thing you did was text your sister to let her know not to worry and give her an update on what was happening. After you let Anika know what was happening, it didn’t take long for your phone to ring. The next ten or so minutes were spent talking to Anika and telling her how amazing the things you’d seen so far were. You could not shut up about the decorations, the way the snow looked to have been groomed to lay on things perfectly. It was that damn picturesque. Since you couldn’t stop talking about it, Anika was the one to suggest you go out and enjoy it before you got back on the plane. It was a suggestion you fully intended on listening to.

Fifteen minutes later, you were back downstairs bundled with your camera and your purse, ready to explore. When you told Anita your intention, she gave you a map of the city and highlighted places to look at but cautioned you to hurry because stores would be closing soon, and nights during Brexendor winters could be brutal. You promised you’d be quick and careful, then stepped out, ready to explore like Dora.

Your first stop was a block down, a children’s toy store. It was decked out with all the latest toys along with some traditional things that Santa would have brought specially made from his workshop. While you were snapping pictures outside the window, a kid ran up to the window and pressed his nose to it. His eyes were wide, and his mouth matched their size. You asked the adult with him if you could take a picture. When they approved, you got one or two from a few different angles before they walked off.

As you walked through the city, enjoying the scenery, you took pictures of everything that caught your eye, ornaments, trees, people, stores, even pets. Christmas wasn’t your favorite holiday, but it was your second favorite, and being here really as inching it higher on the list.

When you felt a strong wind hit you, it stopped you in your tracks. It was strong enough to have you stagger backward a little, allowing a chill to sweep through you. You looked around and saw a few feet away was some sort of bar, and behind it was swirling snow that looked like a tornado. You hurried toward the building, being careful not to slip on any ice that may be hiding underneath the snow. Once to the door, you walked inside, and the sound of Christmas carols filled your ears.

“Jesus.”

If the scent of the Inn felt like Christmas slapped you in the face, the look and sound of this place was the one two-hitter that settled that you were in a whole nother world here. You looked around and found a coat rack along the left wall. After placing your jacket and scarf on the hook, you walked to the bar and slid onto a stool. As you waited for the bartender to come over, you looked around. Here it didn’t smell like cinnamon, but the pine was present, along with the smell of alcohol and licorice.

There were several small dark wooden tables around the bar with chairs and even booths that decorated the walls. The floors matched the tables, and those matched the walls. This place looked like somewhere you’d find in the middle of nowhere. The window to the back of the establishment showed the dark woods with tall snow-covered trees and that howling snow tornado.

When you turned back to the back, the huge elk head above the wall lined with alcohol bottles had you gasping.

“Jeez,” you said as you snapped two of three pictures of the creepy looking thing.

“That is Hogan’s prized possession.”

You looked beside you where the voice came from to see a very attractive man there. When you’d sat down, you didn’t notice anyone beside you, so to see his piercing blue eyes boring holes into you. Your eyes traveled lower to his awkwardly shaped nose. It looked like it had been broken once or twice and never quite went back to normal. You didn’t mind it, though. Who liked a perfect face, especially when looking at him, seemed like that was about the only thing that was not absolutely perfect. His jaw was carved to precision like he was specially crafted and not born. When your eyes fell to his lips, you purposely forced yourself to look away.

“Is—is that right?”

“Yes. I bet you cannot guess why,” the stranger said in a crisp European accent that was very close to British. You weren’t one hundred percent sure if it was or not, he just sounded proper as hell, and it was actually a bit of a turn on.

You shrugged while looking at the bottles that lined the back of the bar. “Enlighten me.”

Just then, a large man with blond hair in a man bun walked over. He had to have been over six feet tall, and if this were America, he’d definitely be a shopper at the store Big & Tall. The man looked to the one seated beside you, ready to speak but suddenly closed his mouth.

“Hogan, Ms--,” the stranger began waiting for you to fill in your name.

He thought he was so smooth; you thought as you smiled to yourself.

“Xari.”

His eyebrow shot up, and he smiled sweetly. “Wow, what a beautiful name.”

You smiled, and as you felt it widening, you bit onto your bottom lip to stop it. “Thanks.”

“Ms. Xari would like to know why Shandoe is your most prized possession.”

“Shandoe?”

Hogan looked behind him at the Elk’s head then smiled. “It’s been in my family for generations. It was the first thing my great-great-great-great-great grandfather ever killed for himself to feed his family. They ate everything but the head and decided to keep it as a reminder of where we came from.”

You were expecting some weird manly story but what you got was a wholesome and heartwarming tale. You smiled, raised your camera, and snapped Hogan, and as he stared at the Elk’s head with such a loving look on his face that was such a contradiction for his large frame.

“Are you a reporter?”

“No, no. Not at all. I’m a travel influencer and blogger. I go around and soak up what the world has to offer while taking pictures and writing about it on my blog for others to read about.”

The man beside you nodded, then raised his glass to his head.

“What can I get you?”

“Uh—what is he drinking?”

“The Mistletoe Bomb.”

You snorted, unable to contain yourself any longer. “What in the world is that?”

“You laugh now, but it is a blend he makes special for me. It is not for the faint of heart,” the man beside you informed.

“Oh no, well looks like I’ll be having one of those.”

Hogan looked to him, then back to you. “It is all right, Hogan. Give the lady what she wants. I am assuming fell strength is also what you require?”

“Yes, full strength. I want all the mistletoe and all the bomb.”

Hogan went to work, making the drink while you continued looking around.

“Em, I’m Henry.”

You looked to him to find his hand outstretched to you, waiting for you to place yours in it. When you did, you repeated your name as you noted how soft his hands were. It felt like he’d never done a day’s work with them. Henry rose your hand to his lips and placed a soft kiss on the back of your hand. It was one small action, but that action had butterflies flitting in your belly and your cheeks heating as if a heater was aimed directly at your face.

“I am delighted to make your acquaintance,” Henry uttered while looking into your eyes.

“Same,” you whispered.

Henry released your hand and turned back to his drink at the same time Hogan placed a mug before you.

“One Mistletoe Bomb for the lady.”

You looked at the large mug then to Hogan, who waited expectantly. When your eyes drifted to Henry beside you, he too was watching and waiting. No matter how much you felt like this was a setup, you persisted, not wanting to back down. When you took your first full mouthful of the drink, your eyes immediately bugged. Your tongue was on fire in seconds, and it seemed the longer you held the liquid in your mouth, the worse the burn was. You gulped it down and instantly knew the mistake. Not only was your mouth on fire, but now your throat and chest as it burned a fiery path to your belly.

“Holy fucking shit!”

The two men boisterously laughed, the sounds booming off the wooden walls before filling the entire room. You looked around, noticing for the first time it was completely empty.

“What the hell is that?”

“Something that will put hair on your chest,” Hogan teased.

“No, shit.”

Henry seemed to like that response; he laughed again then finished his mug.

“How can you drink this?”

He shrugged, then turned his body to you. You gave him a well-paced once over, taking in his furry winter boots, dark pants, and dark sweater to match the pants. Underneath the sweater, though, you saw peeks of a crisp white shirt. He dressed like he had money, you thought.

“I have done it for half my life. I do not even feel the burn anymore. Do you know why he calls it Mistletoe Bomb now?”

You giggled and nodded, pushing the mug away. If you drank that, you’d need to be carried out of here. As Hogan appeared to take the mug away, Henry reached for it, insisting he’d finish it while Hogan placed a beer bottle in front of you.

“Would you like a straw?”

You looked at Hogan as if he were crazy. Who drank beer with a straw? You shook your head and raised the bottle to your lips to take a swig. This was more your speed, not pure petrol.

“So you are new in town,” Henry began.”

“Kind of. My plane had to detour because of the storm, so here I am in a place I’ve never heard of and cannot figure out why.”

“Is it strange to never have heard of every place in the world?”

You thought about it for a moment as you took another mouthful of beer then nodded.

“Yes. I’m from America,” you began.

“Ah, American. Let me guess. Everything has to be discovered, and if it is not, then either it doe not exist, or it is being hidden.”

You snapped your mouth shut. He’d guessed American thinking in one try. “Well, that’s not fun,” you added. Henry laughed and took his mouthful of fire.

“I am sorry. I know America well,” Henry informed.

“Oh, so you’ve been?”

“No. I do not need to. I have spent my entire life learning it.”

You looked back at him, confused by what he meant.

“Every country gives lessons on other countries of the word, especially powerhouse countries,” he explained.

“Well, your studies have paid off.”

“Do you really believe that everything has to be discovered?”

“No. where is the fun in that? I believe that the world has to have some mystery.”

“Then welcome to Brexendor,” Henry said with a smile.

“Brexendor. What’s it’s deal?”

You leaned closer, resting your elbow on the wood of the bar as you watched him.

“Deal? I am afraid I do not understand.”

“What I mean is, the people are nice. Everyone I have encountered, including at the airport, is nice. You know airport staff can be so mean, but not here. The people who own the Inn I am staying at are so sweet. Even strangers I bump into don’t;’ seem to mind. Not to mention, this place has the whole snow globe effect down. It’s incredible. What is the deal? Is the president some fantastic guy who pays everyone well and gives them ample vacation time for them to be so happy?”

Henry smiled, dipped his head lower, then rubbed the back of his neck.

“Would that be unusual?”

“Yes. Compared to what America has going on—highly unusual.”

“Well, the first thing to know about Brexendor is, a president does not run it,” Henry clarified.

“Ah right, it is a monarchy. So does that mean there is a king, and queen, lords, dukes,” you began, then gasped, remembering more. “Princesses?”

Henry smirked, gulped his drink, then nodded. “Yes.” He continued to take another swig from his mug.

His words slowly resonated. “What!? You’re serious?”

He nodded, then placed the glass onto the bar.

“Wow. How interesting. So this King and Queen are they the good kind?”

Henry’s smile turned somber before it disappeared altogether.

“Did I say something wrong?”

“No, no. Yes, the King and Queen are the best kind,” he filled in before he took the last mouthful of his drink. “They would like you.”

You laughed loudly and shook your head. “Me? I doubt that. While all the mothers of my boyfriends have loved me, I don’t think the King and Queen would care for me.”

“Boyfriend, so uh—you’re involved,” Henry said as he avoided your eyes.

His words sounded like a statement rather than a question, so you remained quiet. After a few moments, he looked at you expectantly. You pinched your lips before you finished your beer.

“Are you involved?”

Henry took a deep breath looked forward to the bottles at the bar as a pained and confused expression washed over his features.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” you replied.

“I am not—involved,” he answered.

“You said it like you weren’t sure.”

“It is complicated.”

“Well, I am a stranger in a bar—an empty bar. You’ll most likely never see me again, and I’ve been told I’m a great listener.”

Henry smiled then turned back to you, resting his elbow on the bar mimicking your stance.

“You have not answered my inquiry.”

“Inquiry?”

Henry smiled again, then bit his bottom lip. That is where your eyes went to. He had nice lips, you thought.

“On if you are involved,” he clarified.

“I am not involved with anyone. If you ask my mother, she will tell you I’m an old maid with no prospects.”

“I do not believe that. You are funny, intelligent, fun to be around, and quite beautiful. There is no way you have no admirers.”

You smiled and began toying with your necklace.

“I’m sure you say that to all the girls you meet in deserted bars during a snow storm.”

He snorted, and you felt his breath across your cheek. It was then you realized how close the two of you were to each other.

“To be honest, I have never found myself alone with a woman in a bar. You are my first.”

You bit your bottom lip feeling more flirtatious than usual as you gazed into his hypnotizing eyes. He was gorgeous and becoming even more so with every passing minute. The two of you ordered more drinks, then drifted off to one of the booths on the wall that was more hidden and even more comfortable. You talked about nearly everything and nothing at the same time. He spoke a lot about philosophy and astronomy and the sciences that motivated a lot of the earlier theories. It was fascinating just listening to him speak. There was something about his mouth and the properness of the words he used. Never once did he use slang or even a contraction. You’d never met anyone who didn’t use contractions. The longer you sat there, the more you felt like never getting up.

“There is something about you that is so comfortable and easy,” Henry began.

“You too.”

“I feel like I can talk to you about anything. I even want to.”

You smiled, “You too.”

Your eyes lingered, and you saw him sway forward, but then he stopped only to do it again and again. With your faces were centimeters from one another, it was then you noticed the slight speck of brown in his left eye. You felt Henry’s hand gently cup your cheek; then, his thumb slowly stroked your skin. The heat from his palm seared your cheek, and every stroke of his thumb send heat tendrils down your jaw to your lips, making them tingle and yearn for his.

This had never happened to you in your entire life. You’d known this man a few hours and were ready to possibly bring him back to the Inn with you. Henry didn’t move. It was like he was giving you the last few centimeters to make a decision, but you didn’t make it. A phone went off, but you both ignored it until the sound went off. You raised your hand to rest on top of his. Once your skin touched his, Henry lightly sighed out. Before either of you could make another move, a phone rang again. This time Henry groaned before he looked away just as you did.

You cleared your throat and slid from his body as he checked his phone.

“I have to go,” he announced.

Frozen, you sat there trying to understand if you’d read this entire thing wrong.

“I am sorry, something—urgent has come up.”

You snapped out of it, then nodded. “It’s fine. I should probably get back to the Inn anyway. They say a storm is brewing.”

Both of you stood from the booth while straightening your clothes.

“I really enjoyed tonight,” Henry added.

You smiled and nodded. “Me too. It was—nice.”

Your eyes lingered again, and your bodies drifted closer. It was you who looked away first and stepped back. You reached for your purse, but Henry stopped you.

“It has been taken care of. Let us call it a tourist special, right Hogan.”

“Right your--,” Hogan began before Henry looked at him, cutting him off.

Henry ushered you to the coat rack on the wall by the door then helped you into your jacket.

“Can I drive you back to the Inn?”

“No, please. I am more than capable of getting back,” you assured.”

“Are you sure?”

You nodded then turned to walk out, but Henry pulled you to him. “I want to see you again.”

“I don’t see how. I leave tomorrow as soon as the storm passes.”

Henry looked to be thinking before he sighed. “I guess it was not meant to be,” you whispered, a tinge of sadness filling you as reality set in.

“In another life,” Henry softly said.

He came closer then placed a slow, chaste kiss on your cheek before he released you. The two of you stared at each other for a few moments, and in those moments, anything felt possible. When you faced that anything could have been possible but not for you, you sighed. A few seconds later, you turned and walked out of the bar.

Once outside, the rough wind caught you off guard. You took a few moments to bundle yourself, then continued walking back to the Inn. The swirling snow in the air made it a little challenging to see, but you tried the best you could. Several times, the wind picked up and shoved you where it wanted, forcing you to grab on to something to hold until it passed.

Suddenly a big gust of wind blew you to the right and knocking you off your feet to roll for several feet. When the wind slowed, you rolled over onto your back to spit out the mouthful of snow that you’d managed to ingest. It took you several tries to stand, but when you did, you tried to see where you were and what direction you needed to walk in. That was when the wind picked up again, making you scream. When you turned, you saw two headlights coming right at you, then all you felt was pain before you were out cold.

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

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#crown for two fic #henry cavill #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill x you #henry cavill x black reader #black fanfiction #royalty au #slow burn fanfic #christmas fanfiction #henry cavill x black ofc #cheesy christmas fic

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batgurl1989 · 4 years

Text

We Meet Again Chapter 1

Summary: After years of not seeing each other, Geralt has found Younin again at the Inn at the Crossroads working as an Herbalist. He needs her assistance, and she can’t turn him down.

Word Count: 1578

Pairing: Geralt of Rivia and OFC

Warnings: None at this point. Those will come later

A/N: This is the first chapter of many for Geralt and Younin (The name for my OFC as a play on the use of Y/N for your name). This is mostly being used as an introductory chapter, and is based more on the Witcher 3: Wild Hunt video game than on the show or books. As always, I welcome critique, and feel free to shot me ideas of what you may like to see these two get up to on their adventures. Let me know if you want to be on the taglist.

Taglist: @rmtndew @princesssterek

Chapter One

“Mutant!”

“Abomination!”

“You’re kind’s no’ welcome ‘ere!”

The shouting could be heard clear down the street, all the way to your humble shop. You paused grinding the herbs, the pestle almost slipping from your hand. Since the Crones had been destroyed and the war ended years ago, your quaint little town didn’t often have unknown visitors beyond the traveling merchants. If you needed supplies for your potions and oils, you usually had to travel to Novigrad or at least the Crow’s Perch. But this visitor was especially rare. A Witcher was passing through.

You shook your head, trying to clear it of the hope that suddenly sprang to life in your chest. Your heart rate picked up at the possibility that this Witcher could be YOUR Witcher. But you knew he left Velen years ago without much thought for returning. You began to grind the herbs in the mortar again, but got lost in the almost hypnotic mundane work.

Over the decades, you and Geralt kept running into each other. The first time was when he needed healing after a Drowner attack while on one of his missions. At that point you knew his heart belonged ultimately belonged to your Sorceress comrade, Yennefer. Though handsome, and clearly up for a meaningless romp, you managed to heal him and send him on his way. The on again off again relationship between Geralt and Yennefer was well known among the magical world, and the last you had heard, they were on.

The next time your paths crossed had been in Skellige at one of the many parties the ruling Jarl had thrown. A few heated glances had led to a rendezvous on the balcony. He and Yennefer were off at the time, but your conscious still ate at you regardless of the immense pleasure the Witcher had given you. You saw the look of hurt that flashed through his eyes as you portalled out of the party shortly after finishing.

Since that party, you had seen each other every couple of years, and although you knew how easy it would be to fall into bed with him, you never did. But that didn’t stop the two of you shameless flirting at every turn.

When you had settled in Velen to open an herbalist shop in Novigrad, he was quick to find you. It had been one of the most difficult meetings you two had shared. At the time Geralt had just gotten his memory back after spending time with Triss, having completely forgotten about Yennefer. It was a tense time for everyone as the whole magical community held its breath waiting to see if Yennifer would decimate Triss for taking advantage of Geralt while his memories were gone.

And then of course there was the confusion following when Geralt couldn’t seem to make up his mind between the two. You had decided it was safer and better for you to concentrate on your work and boosting your business. But it wasn’t safe for you to remain in Novigrad as the Witch Hunters were making themselves very known to anyone not human.

That was how you found yourself in one of the outskirt villages, making a decent but humble name for yourself. Keeping your magic mostly under wraps. The villagers knew you were a Sorceress, but as long as you didn’t do anything too big and draw too much attention to yourself, then they left you alone for the most part. You figured they were probably just happy to have someone who could heal the ailments that came with living near a swamp.

A knock on your door pulled you out of your memories. Giving you head a harder shake, you plastered a smile on your face, and turned to greet the customer standing in your open doorway. You tried to leave your door open during business hours so people would know you were open. Your smile almost faltered when you saw who filled your doorway.

“Long time no see.” Geralt had a surprised smile on his face, as though he hadn’t been expecting you. Outside you could still here villagers grumbling about his presence.

“Here. Step inside.” You waved him in. Once he was over the threshold, you closed your door. If Geralt was here, it was important, and any other customers could wait. Wiping your hands on the waist apron you wore when grinding herbs, you looked around from something to busy yourself with. If you were being honest with yourself, you were mostly looking to make sure the place was in decent condition. “So, uh, what brings you to the Crossroads?”

“I’m running low on some herbs.” You could feel Geralt’s eyes on you as you went over to your large cupboard where you stored all the herbs you had for sale. “I didn’t think you would still be in Velen after everyone left for Kovir.”

“I make do where I am.” You shrugged, opening the cupboard doors to reveal a multitude of tiny drawers and compartments filled with herbs and other spell components. “What herbs were you looking for? I usually have the ones you would commonly need. For the rarer ones, you might need to travel to Novigrad.”

Geralt nodded, stepping closer to the cupboard and you. You hoped you were subtle as you stepped away from him, giving him more room to search for what he needed. A sideways glance from him told you that he noticed. Clearing your throat, you went back over to your bench to start cleaning up the herb you had been preparing. Anything to get you away from his heat and his scent. Though he had probably been on the road for days, fighting who knew what, he always smelt of fresh air, leather, and horse. It wasn’t an unappealing smell, and you found you always had to distance yourself from it otherwise it clouded your mind.

“If you are going to ask, just do it.” His low rumbling voice carried easily across the small room even though you were making a lot of noise.

“How is Yennefer?” You quietly asked, not able to give your voice volume in the hopes that he didn’t hear. You were unsure if you wanted to know the answer, and you felt like giving him an out for old time’s sake.

“I wouldn’t know.” Geralt replies calmly, opening a few drawers to pull out a few sprigs of herbs.

BANG

Spinning with a hand reaching over his shoulder for one of his two swords, Geralt looked ready to take on any foe that might have invaded your cottage. He relaxed when he took in the shattered mortar on your work bench, and the smoke rising from the shards. His hand left his sword as he made his way over to you as you scrambled to clean up the mess.

“Sorry! Sorry.” You swept the powdered mess into your hand to deposit in a bucket you used mostly for compost, but would now serve as a garbage. “I don’t know why that happened. The components were stable.”

“But you weren’t.” Geralt noted, leaning against the workbench with his arms crossed. He watched you with a mixture of amusement and concern swimming in his golden eyes. He watched you silently for a minute longer as you rushed to clean up the mess. You seemed to be making it worse with each attempt to sweep it up. His hand covered yours, stopping your panicked motions. “Younin.”

“Don’t.” You closed your eyes against the wave of emotions that crashed over you at his touch. Hearing your name on his lips was bad enough without him holding your hands still. Mentally throwing up walls against your feelings, you steeled yourself as you looked directly at him. “Did you find what you needed?”

“Got them here.” Geralt held out his hands. You quickly made a mental note of what he had taken for inventory purposes. He set them down on the bench, reaching his coin.

“You don’t need to. Consider them on the house.” You raised your hands, shaking your head vehemently. You couldn’t imagine a world where you would actually charge Geralt for a simple handful of herbs.

“You must let me pay you.” Geralt took a step toward you, crowding into your space. There was no where for you to go as your back was against the workbench. You took a deep breath, ready to protest again, but you saw something shift in his eyes, and he backed off. “At least let me buy you a drink then.”

“Fine, but only because I was heading to the Inn anyway.” You sighed, giving in against your better judgement. The single piece of information he had given you was quickly taking root in your mind and seemed to take over your decision-making skills. “Just let me clean up in here, and I will meet you there.”

Geralt seemed to accept that, nodding as his gold eyes took one last lingering look at you. He ducked out the door, closing it behind him with a soft snick of the latch. You sighed, letting the tension flow out of your body now that he was gone. You hadn’t fooled him or yourself. He still had a hold on you somehow after all these years. But having drinks with him might be the only time you had to explore those feelings. So you got ready as quickly as possible to head over the Inn.

#Geralt of Rivia fanfic #Geralt x reader #Geralt x OFC #witcher fanfiction #Witcher fanfic #Henry Cavill Fanfic #Henry Cavill Fanfiction #Geralt Fanfic #We Meet Again

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the-romantic-lady · 3 years

Note

Thank you! I loved knowing more about Edmund, poor boy, he was too good for his time. I am definitely interested in the letters :)

I always had a theory that Richard looked like Edmund, that's why Edward loved him so much, but I guess I wasn't quite right, maybe it's because Richard looked like their father.

Do you know who the boys looked like? I can't define looking at the portraits. I just know that Edward didn't look like anyone and Richard looked like his father.

You are welcome :D. Anon, you have awaken the sleeping lion. The appearances of the Yorks is one of my ultimate passions. I have some facts and A LOT of theories. Buckle up because this is going to be a long ride. (To keep this a reasonable length, I will stick to only the brothers.

Edward IV

Edward is a controversial one. His looks were used to state that he was illegitimate and looked nothing like his family. Well, I propose otherwise. When things have an agenda, they can hardly be taken as fact. In my opinion, Edward resembled his mother and paternal grandmother. Ofc, I will share some pictures:

These are far from perfect in representation but we can see his features clearly. He had a very pretty small and straight nose. A small rosy mouth and squinty eyes (they are cute lol). His chin is straight and kind of big and some double chin is popping through (which is likely a result of his later weight gain). Now here is Cecily and Richard, Duke of York's mother, Anne Mortimer.

This image of Anne Mortimer is an illustration from a stained glass image from 1411. I have desperately tried to get my hands on the original but the British Library won't budge. The features of Henry V and John, Duke of Bedford line up with other representations so I take it as fairly accurate in what Anne looked like. She is almost Edward's twin. The same small nose, the large chin and the small mouth. Whilst we can't see Anne's eyes, it seems that his eyes have origins elsewhere since Cecily has brighter and more lifted eyes. Overall, I would say he has a feminine face and kind of looks like his sister Anne too.

George, Duke of Clarence

George is the hardest one. We hardly know what he looks like. According to Vergil?, Richard said that George looked more like other men at court rather than their father but that sounds like bullcrap which is pretty much all of Vergil's history.

This is the most accurate representation we have of George and its not very good. To me, he seems to have a large nose, large eyes and a full mouth. Also, a strong jaw and chin. These features seem to resemble Richard somewhat but more masculine imo. I personally don’t know who I think he resembles. I think his maternal grandfather, Ralph Neville is a good bet. Very wide set faces with a strong jaw like his great grandfather Edmund Duke of York whose skeleton was examined to show a very masculine and strong jaw.

Richard III

This one is really interesting. He personally seemed to have claimed to resemble his father (someone he likely never saw enough to remember the face of). Although he states that they were the same of “visage”, the context of the statements seem to suggest he means to say that they are the same noble princes. He was emphasizing his descent as the true heir of his father so if he did say that it makes sense for the context. However, how much they looked alike in features is a hard one. Richard and Edward both had brown hair. George is uncertain but I would a light brown as seen in that Wavrin image. For Richard, we have contemporary images, later paintings and his reconstruction.

All three show a very soft face. He has medium eyes, a straight aquiline nose and a full mouth. In some ways, he seems like a mixture of Edward and George. I don’t think he resembles his father much except for the jaw and nose.

Richard, Duke of York seems to have a very very soft face. His eyes seem small and somewhat squinty like Edward’s but his nose is almost identical to Richard. His mouth seems to be fuller like George. And he was very blonde. None of his sons seemed to be. He seems to resemble his own father, Richard Earl of Cambridge.

Edmund

I left him for last because this is mostly just speculation. He is described as “fair” which could mean both handsome or light coloring. If we go by the second, then he likely had his father’s coloring. If not, then he too was dark in hair like his brothers. All the York sons, except for George seem to lean towards the feminine side on their appearance. That goes with your point that Richard resembled Edmund and thus Edward’s attachment to him (although it must be said that Edward seemed to have loved George a lot too). I don’t personally see that much difference in Richard and Edward’s appearance either. George seems more like the outlier in appearance to me. Which brings me to these videos. Ofc, they are not totally accurate but Edward is HOT and it shows kind of how the brothers did look very similar.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LBpB9QXOO20&t=70s&ab_channel=PanagiotisConstantinou

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vh8f2-kdXb4&ab_channel=PanagiotisConstantinou

#this is long #sorry anon #but i hope you enjoy it #i just love discussing appearances of medieval people lol #especially richard duke of york since there are so many myths about what he looked like #looking at you dan jones #and the richard inherited his father's dark looks #sir where??????

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rmtndew · 4 years

Text

Begin Again

Summary: Walter Marshall is a dedicated homicide detective doing his best to balance his work life with being a single father to a teenage girl. Fiona Sparks is a woman doing her best to take care of everyone and everything around her, except for herself. Neither has had the best luck with relationships, but once they meet, they’re willing to give it another shot, this time with each other. (It’s basically just romantic fluff)

Pairing: Marshall and OFC.

Rating: PG

Warnings: Mentions of death, cancer.

A/N - This is a sequel to ‘All I’ve Ever Known’. I started writing this because I needed an escape for some personal stuff going on and my coping mechanism included giving Marshall all the love that man needed, and imagining him being the softest boyfriend to me, then passing those details on to Fiona (my OFC).

I also made a Spotify playlist for this story, if anyone is interested - Begin Again Playlist

Tag list - @hollydaisy23, @alyxkbrl, @onlyhenrys, @omgkatinka, @speakerforthedead0, @gearhead66, @thethirstyarchive, @oddsnendsfanfics, @littlerinoa, @agniavateira, @aaescritora, @justaboringadult, @beenthroughalot, @seriouslygoodlookinggents, @xxxkatxo

If you want to be added/removed from the tag list, let me know!

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7

The last Wednesday in October was a gray, misty, windy day. It was cold, the kind you felt more in your bones than anywhere else, with the sky occasionally spitting out sleet. I spent the entire twenty-minute drive to my job at Waverly Catering clutching the steering wheel so tightly that my hands were cramping by the time I arrived from white-knuckling it the whole way there. Usually, I would get to work early enough to enjoy the silence and finish off my coffee before officially starting my workday. That day, however, I spent the very little extra time I had trying to get my hands to stop hurting, then chugged down my coffee that had cooled dramatically to a gross lukewarm temperature.

Before going in, I checked my phone. I always kept it on silent while I drove. My mom had a tendency to text me, make a dozen spelling mistakes because of auto-correct, then correct them one by one, leaving me with about thirteen separate texts to read. It didn’t use to bother me, I thought it was charming and very distinctly Mom. But when she’d gotten sick at the beginning of the year, every text she sent that I couldn’t read immediately made me panic, worrying that something terrible had happened to her, even when I’d just seen her at home a few minutes before. So for my sanity - and hers - I started putting my phone on silent until I got to work, or wherever else I was going. It was a habit I’d kept even after she’d gone into remission because her cancer may have been gone, but my anxiety over her wasn’t.

That morning when I checked my phone, I saw that I had two texts, but they weren’t from Mom.

Marshall: Good morning, Fi. I hope that I get to see you today. I’ll be chained to my desk with paperwork for a while. This is the first time I’ve not dreaded it. You’re my silver lining.

That was cheesy. I’m sorry. I’m bad at this.

And just like that, all of my stress melted away. The weather didn’t matter, my disappointing coffee didn’t matter, even the cramping in my hands didn’t matter. All that did matter was that Walter Marshall thought of me as his silver lining. Yes it was early days, yes we’d barely known each other a month, yes we’d only gone on two dates, but he made me happier than I’d been in a long time. I felt like I’d been holding my breath for two years, starting when my dad had died in a car crash, followed by my boyfriend Ezra breaking up with me, then losing my job as an interior designer, and capping off with my mom’s cancer diagnoses. Then Walter came along and it was like I could finally breathe again.

Me: Please don’t apologize. You have no idea how much I needed to read that this morning. Feel free to be as cheesy as you want. And I hope I get to see you today, too, even if it means you’re chained to your desk.

Marshall: If I don’t see you for some reason, can I call you tonight? I miss your voice and you make me want to get better at this talking thing.

I could feel myself blushing. Even over the phone he made me feel like a teenager with a crush. I had no idea that anyone could make me feel that way as an adult, but he did every time he texted me.

Me: Of course you can. Even if we do see each other, you can still call, if you want? Practice makes perfect, and all that.

Marshall: I’d like that. Talk to you soon.

I sat back in my seat with a sigh as I looked out at the sleet falling from the gray sky, spattering my windshield, blurring out the image of the trees in the park across from me blowing and bending in the wind.

It was going to be a good day.

“You look...dare I say it? Happy?” Darcy said as I walked into her office.

I smiled. “You may dare to say it because yes, I am quite happy.”

“And what brings you to such an extreme emotion so early on such a disgusting day?”

I went to her desk and sat in the chair opposite her. “Well, for one, I know that you’re about to do me a big favor that I will forever be grateful for.”

“Fiona Sparks asking for a favor? I’ll mark the day in my calendar,” she joked. “What kind of favor do you need?”

“I need a copy of the peanut butter cookie recipe.”

“For what purpose?”

��See, that’s where the happiness part comes into play and you, being one of my dearest friends, would love to see me happy.”

“I would but I’m unsure how a cookie recipe is going to do that.”

“It’s not for me,” I said, smiling wide. “I met this guy -”

“What? Who?” she asked enthusiastically, her eyes wide with excitement.

“His name is Walter Marshall. He’s our detective who never changes his lunch order.”

“You’re dating one of the homicide detectives? You can feel free to thank me later for giving you that order, by the way. But right now I want details: How long have you been dating and why am I just now finding out about it?”

“We’re not technically dating. I met him a few weeks ago for the first time and we went on two dates last week.”

“You haven’t dated anyone in over two years, and then you go on two dates in one week?”

“Well, the first was just a coffee date. Saturday we tried having a proper one.”

“Tried?” she asked, raising her eyebrow.

“He wanted to take me to dinner, so we went to an Italian place, but before we could order, his daughter called. She was supposed to be at a Halloween party, but some of her friends had lied to her, I guess, and it ended up being a basement party with slightly older boys and she felt uncomfortable, so we went and picked her up. Then we all went for pizza together.”

“He has a daughter, which is some heavy baggage to begin with, but you met her on your second date? That’s a lot, Fiona.”

“I know it seems like it, but it’s really not. She’s a good kid. And he’s an amazing father, which, oddly, just makes him more attractive,” I said. “But that’s not the point. The point is that his daughter was, understandably, a little iffy about me being with him when he picked her up until she found out that I’m the one who brings the cookies. She apparently loves them and I told her that I might be able to get her a copy of the recipe and that seemed to pave the way for her not hating me instantly. And she’s thirteen, so that’s a pretty big deal.”

“I have so many questions right now but I can’t sort them all out so I’m going to be annoying you with them all day, just be prepared for that. All I want to know right now is if you want the recipe laminated or not?”

I let out a relieved breath. “Yes, please, if you don’t mind. And thank you so much, Darcy. You have no idea how much this means to me.”

“I do know. You never ask for anything, even simple things, so the fact that you’re willing to ask me for a favor means this is a pretty big deal,” she said. “He must be a good guy.”

I nodded. “He really is.”

I arrived at the police station that morning a little before eleven. I’d left the shop early, worried the weather might get bad again and didn’t want to be late for my delivery. Thankfully the sleeting had stopped, allowing me to get there a few minutes early. A few minutes that I used up trying to pull my dolly through the parking lot. The lot had been salted, which was good in that at least it wasn’t icy, but the wheels on my dolly didn’t seem to like the brine mixture. They kept locking up on me. Between that and having to fight against the roaring wind, it took me an embarrassingly long time to reach the station door. Before I could push it open, someone opened it from the inside for me. I looked up, expecting to see Officer Bates. He was the security officer that was posted downstairs and always went through the containers full of lunches that I brought to the homicide unit every week. Instead, I saw Marshall.

“Hello,” he said with a smile.

I immediately felt like giggling. The last time I’d seen him, we’d kissed. And seeing him right then, seeing his beautiful, handsome face, I wanted so badly to kiss him again. Instead, I felt myself grow shy as I blushed so fiercely that my cheeks stung with the new heat that rushed to them.

“Hi,” I said. He pulled the door open all the way, then stepped back, allowing me to walk in. My stomach fluttered as I looked back at him. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” He closed the door behind me. “May I help you with your cart?”

“No, it’s okay.”

“Would you let me help you take it back to your car when you leave, at least?”

I fought every instinct inside of me that insisted I say no. Darcy was right: I hated asking for even simple things. I never wanted to burden anyone. But since I’d met Marshall, I’d learned that his way of showing interest or affection was to do things for me. But he always asked first, wanting my permission. It challenged me, but in a good way. I didn’t need to always go it alone if I didn’t have to.

“Um, yeah, I’d appreciate that. Thank you,” I said. “The wheels didn’t seem to agree with the salted parking lot. You could probably pull it a lot easier than me.”

Marshall stayed with me as Officer Bates went through the containers I’d brought in. He wasn’t close enough to make anyone passing by question it, but it was close enough that my hand hanging at my side could feel the heat coming from his hand and forearm, that was visible from the blue henley that was pushed up to his elbows in a way that I found incredibly attractive. My fingers itched to seek out his, but I fought it. Keeping them obediently beside me. Once Officer Bates was done and gave me the all clear to take the food up, Walter walked me to the elevator and pressed the button to call it down. Then he held the door back, letting me in first before following me. After the door slid closed, he fell back half a step, putting him right beside me. His hand bumped mine, his fingers snaking through, gently holding mine. I smiled, knowing I wasn’t the only one itching for contact.

I turned without a thought and placed a kiss on his shoulder. Then I paused, a moment of panic rising in me that maybe we weren’t at that level yet. But before I could move or feel too worried, he placed a kiss on the top of my head.

“I keep thinking about Saturday,” he whispered.

“Me, too,” I said. I looked up at him. “It was...pretty amazing.”

He smiled. I could see his sharp canine teeth. They were oddly charming. “Yes, it was.” He laced his fingers with mine more securely, properly holding it. “I know I mentioned calling you tonight, but I hoped that we might have dinner again instead. If you’re not busy?”

“I’m exceptionally not busy tonight.”

“Good.” He pressed a kiss to my forehead before turning his head back to face the elevator door. “I won’t be able to finish all my paperwork today, there’s too much and it keeps multiplying like rabbits, so since I have to do it tomorrow anyway, I’m going to knock off here around five. Could I pick you up after that? Around five-thirty, perhaps?”

I nodded, smiling. “That sounds great.”

The elevator dinged as we reached the homicide unit floor. He gave my hand a couple of gentle squeezes before letting it go as the door slid open. He stepped out, then held the door for me like he had before, letting me pull my cart out. He walked with me almost all the way to the break room before a shorter man with glasses stopped him.

“Lieutenant Marshall, can I speak with you in your office for a moment?” he asked.

“Of course.” Walter touched my shoulder. “Excuse me,” he said to me quietly before leaving for his office.

I continued on and was met by most of the detectives waiting for me. Like usual, they didn’t talk to me much, just thanking me for the food before taking their box and going. I took my time, hoping that by the time that I was done, the man speaking with Walter would be gone before I brought him his lunch. When I was done, I packed up my cart before taking Marshall’s boxed lunch and walked down the hall, finding the door to his office open. I could hear him talking still and wasn’t sure what to do. I’d made a deal with him a few weeks back to always bring his lunch to his office whenever I delivered - the first time was because a uniformed officer looked like he was going to swipe it, after that, it was to thank him for rescuing me from a pushy creep while I was with my ‘friends’. We’d never discussed if I should interrupt while he was working. I chewed my lip, debating what to do for several seconds before deciding to just take a chance and knock on the door frame. The worst case scenario was that I looked like a very dedicated delivery woman making sure that all of my orders reached their proper owners.

“Yep. Come in,” Walter called out in response to my knocking.

I entered his office only far enough to be seen and not a step further. I didn’t know if Marshall wanted people to know about us, so I was prepared to make a quick exit if I needed to. “I have a delivery for Detective Marshall,” I said.

He looked at me and smiled, then waved me in further. “Harper, this is Fiona Sparks. Fiona, this is Commissioner Harper.”

“Hi. It’s nice to meet you, sir,” I said.

“You, too.” He looked at me over the top of his glasses. “You don’t happen to be related to Rodger Sparks, by any chance?”

I felt speechless for a moment. I hadn’t heard anyone other than Mom say Dad’s name in months. Finally, I forced myself to nod. “Yes. He was my dad. How - how did you know?”

“We went to college together. You’re the spitting image of him,” he said. “I was sorry to hear about him passing away. I lost my wife around two years ago as well. A brain aneurysm.” He shook his head. “It doesn’t get any easier.”

“No, it doesn’t,” I agreed.

He looked at me for a moment longer, then back to Marshall, who was standing patiently with his hands clasped behind his back. He looked back at me briefly before taking the folder he was holding and tapped it against Marshall’s shoulder. “You know what? This can wait until tomorrow,” he said. “I’ll bring it by in the morning.” He left Walter and stopped beside me before leaving the office. “I’m very sorry about your father. Rodger was a horrible sport when he lost at cards, but other than that, he was a great guy. And probably the smartest man I ever met.”

I smiled slightly. “He was a horrible sport at cards.”

He smiled back. “The worst.” He gave me a wink. “It was a pleasure seeing you.”

“You, too.”

When he left, he closed the door behind him. I looked at Marshall as he walked towards me. “Did I interrupt something important?” I asked.

“No. He was just asking about a cold case.”

“I wasn’t sure if you wanted me to come in since he was here. Next time, if you’re talking to someone, would you rather I left your lunch in the break room?”

He stopped in front of me. He was so close. He smelled like coffee and Old Spice. I swallowed thickly, trying to meet his gaze as he looked down at me. He shook his head, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “No. I’d still like you to bring it to me, please. If that’s alright?”

“Yeah, of course. I just don’t want to get in the way of your job.”

“You won’t,” he said. “But I’ve let my job get in the way of other things for too long, so maybe it’s time someone got in the way of it for a bit.”

“You have an important job, though. If you were a boat salesman, I might feel a little differently about disrupting your work.”

His smile grew as he tilted his head at me. “A boat salesman?”

“I mean a job where it wouldn’t really matter all that much if you were distracted every once in a while. If someone doesn’t sell a boat, it’s not that big of a deal. But if you don’t solve a murder case...that has very real repercussions. I wouldn’t want to be a reason for something slipping by in a case.”

He put his hand on my cheek, directing my eyes back to his. “That won’t happen,” he said. “I take my job seriously. That’s never been a problem for me. My problem has always been figuring out how to balance it with the rest of my life, which I never could, and I neglected a lot of people because of it. Especially Faye.” He shook his head. “I’m still not good at it. But I had a case back in the winter that...put Faye’s safety in jeopardy, among other things, and it made me realize that I need to put more of an effort in my life outside of this job. Despite how hard that is for me.” He stroked my cheek with his thumb. “You motivate me to slow down a bit. And that’s a good thing.”

I took my free hand and placed it over his, then turned my face slightly and placed a kiss on the inside of his wrist. “I would be happy to slow down with you,” I whispered.

Marshall had a smile that somehow showed in his eyes more than his mouth, and that’s how he was looking at me right then. “I’d like that.”

A knock on the door startled me. I took a step back, his hand falling from my cheek. He then ran it over his face, almost like he was trying to scrub the irritation of being interrupted off it. Then he folded his arms across his chest before calling out for whoever it was to come in.

The door opened and a man stepped up to the doorway. He was wearing plain clothes like Walter, so I assumed he was a detective, too. He all but ignored me as he and Walter spoke. Half of what they said was in a jargon I didn’t understand, so I just stood there, head down, waiting. After a few minutes, the guy left, only halfway closing the door as he did. When Marshall finally turned back to me, I could see that he was frustrated. I knew he wouldn’t admit it, but me being at his work right then was only going to cause more irritation with every interruption we had.

“As much as I hate it, I should probably get back to the shop. We have a big order going out tomorrow, so there’s quite a lot to do today to prepare for it,” I said. “Plus, I have a date with a very handsome detective tonight that I want to get ready for.”

The frustration on his face seemed to melt away as he looked at me with a smirk. “Is it anyone I know?”

“Possibly. He does work in your unit.”

“Is that so?” he asked. I nodded. “Well, if I see him around, I might have to have a talk with him.”

“And what would you say?”

“I’d tell him that he better be good to you because you deserve to be treated well.”

My stomach fluttered. “You can rest assured that he treats me very well. Better than any man ever has.”

“All those other men were idiots.”

I smiled. “Maybe so.”

He shook his head. “Definitely so.” He reached out and took his lunch from my hand, then turned and placed it on a filing cabinet behind him. “Will you let me help you to your car now?”

I nodded. “Yes, please.”

He put on his coat and followed me to the break room. He pulled my dolly for me, moving it like it was as light as a child’s toy. Even when we made it to the parking lot, he didn’t seem to have any issue with the wheels fighting against him. Then he picked it up and placed it in my trunk with ease, despite how I very often fought to get it back in. I thought about telling him that he was welcome to help me anytime he wanted, but I was afraid it wouldn’t come across as a joke and he would feel obligated to actually help.

“Thank you. You made my morning a lot easier,” I said after I closed the trunk. I looked at him. “I guess I’ll see you around five-thirty?”

He nodded. “I’ll call you when I leave here, but yeah, I should be there by then,” he said. “And I promise it’ll only be the two of us and no cheap pizza.”

“To be honest, I quite liked the pizza. It didn’t taste cheap. And I really, truly didn’t mind Faye joining us, but it'll be nice to have dinner with just you tonight,” I said. “But that reminds me - I put a copy of our cookie recipe for Faye in your lunch box.”

He smiled. “Thank you. She’ll be very excited about that.”

“You’re welcome. And let her know if she has any issues with it, she can call or text me.”

The crease between his eyebrows appeared as he looked at me thoughtfully. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah. I’ve made them enough times over the last year and a half to make every mistake you can with them. If she has a problem, I can probably diagnose it over the phone.”

“You don’t mind her having your number?”

I felt my facial expressions mirroring his, but from confusion. “Of course I don’t mind. As long as you’re okay with it,” I said. “Unless you think your ex-wife would mind? I don’t want to step on her toes or anything.”

He shook his head. “I don’t think Angie would mind for that purpose, and I don’t have a problem with it. But I don’t want you to feel obligated.”

“I don’t but I’ll leave it up to you. If you’d feel more comfortable being the middleman you can always call me for her.” I gave him a big smile. “And I can help you practice the whole talking thing. Then it’s a two birds with one stone kind of deal.”

He smiled back, nodding his head. “And if she doesn’t need help?”

“You can still call.” I shrugged. “As far as I’m concerned, you don’t have to have a reason for calling. If I’m not at work, I’m usually pretty free. I may be cooking, or watching ‘The Golden Girls’ with Mom, but that’s about it,” I said. “I’m afraid you’re courting quite a socially boring person.”

He laughed. “I’m not sure if you’ve caught on, but I’m not exactly a sociable person, either,” he said. “So perhaps we make a good fit for each other.”

“Perhaps so,” I agreed. “We can be selectively social together.”

“Sounds good to me.”

I let out a sigh and watched my breath turn to steam in front of me. “I better let you get back to your paperwork and I need to go help Darcy at the store. We have over fifty loaves of bread to bake before the end of the day, so depending on when I get home, you may have to deal with your date smelling like freshly baked bread.”

He squinted slightly. “I’m not really opposed to that,” he joked with a smile that showed off the sharp ends of his canine teeth.

I laughed. “Good to know.”

He gave me a short hug, kissing my cheek as he pulled back. “I’ll see you this evening.”

“I’m looking forward to it.

#Henry Cavill #Henry Cavill fan fiction #Walter Marshall #Walter Marshall fan fiction #Walter Marshall/OFC #Night Hunter #Night Hunter fan fiction #Nomis #Nomis fan fiction #Henry Cavill fanfiction #Henry Cavill fanfic #detective walter marshall #Begin Again

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doomstypewriter · 4 years

Note

abt the last ask: u dont have to include it ofc (if u write it at all) but i thought id let u know that its based on the mental image i suddenly had of j climbing up to pats window, knocking on the shutters, pat pulling him in by his lapels and immediately kissing him (if you can even call it that with how hard theyre smiling) & then sometime later pat hearing like his dads footsteps coming toward his room as theyre making out so pat scrambles off his bf & shoves him in his closet (the irony)

Anon, finally, here you have it, but with a twist. This got completely out of hand, as per usual when I write anything. Since you were so nice (/li) to send me your request in two parts, I will actually break your prompt into two parts, otherwise, it’s never going to end. I hope you’re pleased by the first part, also, I am answering to this first because it matches the content of the first part.

Thank you so much for your lovely prompt! Hope you enjoy!

If anyone wants to be tagged for this let me know in a comment!

AO3

Chapter 2 >>

We call it an affair because it’s a forbidden romance

Summary: An encounter in the dark. The disdain of society. A forbidden romance. Royalty is involved and a title is at stake. Will an aspiring count, Patton Morandi and his rogue lover Janus overcome the barriers laid in front of them?

(We're in it for the drama)

---

“So long away and what I least expect is not you saving my life, but finding myself having missed your nonsense”.

“Is it nonsense when I make you smile like this?”

Word count: 3848

Pairings: Moceit, future Prinxiety.

TW: Homophobia, internalised homophobia, deadnaming a trans person, misogyny, mentions of religion, hopelessness, ideological things you would expect from the period (I'm not sure if there's anything else, but please tell me).

Chapter 1 of 2:

Balcony kiss

How the moonlight shone in its quiet dance with the nightly air. It was a mostly clear summer evening, the second day of the week-long festival. The sounds of music and colourful lights could be heard and seen from the distance, but gradually decreased as a certain thief made its way across the gardens of Villa Morandi. For certain, the head of the family would not be excessively happy about the entire ordeal, but no disgruntlement could come out of those things of which one has no knowledge of, and Janus surely intended to keep his entanglement a secret.

He crossed the bushes and jumped over marble balustrades expertly, careful to avoid the lights of the servant quarters, where their residents were reading themselves for departure.

“Signor Morandi seems to be in good spirits lately, it is fortunate that most of us can leave for the festival”.

Any news about the man was something worth listening to, given his situation, so he decided to stay and see if they mentioned something useful. Also, he, admittedly, enjoyed gossip.

“Loretta! Don’t be such a bragger in front of us!”

“Why? I’d say the only one lamenting not being able to go is you. You should be ashamed for dragging poor Virginia in with you to make yourself sound less self-centred”.

Janus silently nodded.

“That is not true! I am merely trying to make the newcomer feel welcome! And here you are making her feel excluded, who is now in the wrong?”

Weak retort, wannabe-partygoer, he thought.

“Va, va…” the other maid answered dismissively “Quit holding her like that! Don’t you see she’s uncomfortable?! Povera bambina”.

“Come on Virginia, don’t you think it’s a waste for such a wrinkly woman to be let out instead of us?”

“Who are you calling old?!”

“You did, but now that you so kindly brought it up, you are old! Turning wrinklier by the second!”

Alright, at this point, Janus could not help but be rooting for Loretta, going for the old card was the low-hanging fruit.

“I may be your senior, but I promise you that regardless of that nonsense about wrinkles you’re babbling I’m ten times more fair looking!”

“Ah!” she exclaimed with feigned indignation. “Can you believe her? She’s delusional!”

“Well then, the delusional one will not search for a man at the festival, such a pity I will not be introducing anyone to you this week!”

He smiled at the comeback. Way to go, Loretta.

“Loretta! Just because you had the luck to get engaged doesn’t give you the right to rob others of their chances. Don’t be so mean, I’ll apologise if I must”.

“Alright, but never dare call me wrinkly again, for you will owe this old woman when I find you a husband. Virginia, I can help you too if you want it, I know plenty of young lads who would love to…”

“Oh, no, I’m not really interested”.

At this point Janus had quenched his thirst for amusement and begun to lose his interest, having more pressing matters to attend to. But, one new comment made him reconsider the usefulness of his eavesdropping for longer on the ladies’ conversation.

“That’s right, Loretta, don’t you see she’s here on official duty. To suggest for her to slack off with men… ts, ts… “

“Oh, you shut up! Don’t fret, Virginia, dear, I should have remembered you were sent for an urgent matter”.

“True, true! Tell us if you can, is it as they say? Was her ladyship done in by pirates?”

“Elda! Such crude language, you dare call yourself a lady, how can you say something so insensitive?”

“What? You want to know as badly as I do, besides, if it is true, then there is no changing it, and if it’s not then it’s fine, as her ladyship is still alive”.

“I’m so sorry, Virginia, just ignore her”.

“Don’t worry. As far as I’m willing to say, her ladyship still lives but I cannot disclose any further information”.

Oh.

No.

When one spies on others, bad news exists as a possibility, but, usually, in the form of getting caught. This happened to be worse. Being spotted? That he could deal with. Having his heart ripped out after one stellar month? Not so much.

He ran.

Not from his problems. More or less towards them.

The marble balcony seemed as unreachable as ever. A sense of dread loomed over his thoughts, while a mix of feelings, now turned into urgency, settled in his heart.

Raising a hand Janus willed his trustworthy companion to fall from the nightly skies. Meanwhile, he began to climb the walls of the manor. There was an undeserved elegance in his motions, not becoming of such an honourless goal, and, nevertheless, fitting for a thief like him.

The hawk swept inside the room from a window and cast the doors to the balcony open.

Janus promptly grabbed onto the bass of the marble balustrade. One month ago he had received news of something that would simplify his life. He knew he should not care, it was going to end poorly no matter what. But, rereading two months worth of love letters and hoping for an uncertain future, he could not help but feel happy. That made his resolve to return in time for the festival.

From the room came a sound of rushing footsteps.

Three months of yearning to see a face again.

That image made Janus more desperate, and, in his haste, he committed one fatal mistake. His grip on the marble slipped. At a thirty feet height, the ground beckoned him.

But, just when his doom seemed so certain, he was caught by the front of his cape and safely gathered against a pair of lips.

With such smiles stretching their faces, it could barely be called a kiss. But, the intensity of the affections behind it rendered the notion meaningless.

“My love”, Janus muttered as they parted ever so slightly.

“You scared me, silly. I miss you for three months and when you’re returned to me I almost lose you for good”.

“Let’s be happy you were there to catch me”.

“Thank the Lord, and if He wills it, I will always be”.

“I ought to be grateful to you, my dear, not the ones above” he answered while stepping to the safe side of the balcony.

“Well, our poor feathery friend can’t be too happy about that” Patton laughed dismissively, gazing at Janus’ hawk.

“You’re right. I neglect to show my gratitude, perhaps you could give me somewhere to start?”

“Oh, but how can I hand you my room, my sweet, the stones of the house are too heavy!”

“So long away and what I least expect is not you saving my life, but finding myself having missed your nonsense”.

“Is it nonsense when I make you smile like this?”

Janus laughed in delight.

“Let me make you smile in turn, then”, he said, whilst extending his hand.

The touch of Patton’s palm felt like a warm pressure through the barrier of his leather gloves. Perhaps all of his interactions were as imperfect as their naked hands not being able to meet. Janus’ fake gallantry, their hopes, may be short-lived in the face of change. But, for now, he would rather enjoy pretending.

He pulled Patton to the inside of the alcove.

“Are you refined now?” Patton laughed.

“Of course, I have always been. Whatever could lead you to ask such a question? If I were to be a thief, which I am not, I would be the most honourable”.

There was a certain amount of delight to be found in catching his lover in the midst of changing into his night robes, judging by those being laid out onto the bed’s ostentatious covers. Despite such a degree of luxury surrounding Patton, he still refused to task any servant to dress him. What was there not to love about the man?

Patton made a motion as if to hold his hands, only to surprise him by pulling his gloves off. Any other person, and it would have been a display of sensuality, coming from him, it was like movement turned into honey, perhaps a mixture of both. Indeed, there was everything to love about him.

Maybe not all. Janus dreaded to admit how deep in he had allowed himself to be for this man.

A fool for a good man.

His hands felt the light night coldness in their grip on the linen shirt. Janus almost wanted to chastise himself as the thought of kissing away the kiss of the midnight breeze came to mind. He hid in the curve of Patton’s neck, sliding his lips along it, feeling like a coward whispering a lie. Countless lies. Telling himself this was enough, that he could bear the thought of this man taken away from him by a woman, that the thrill in this forbidden form of vice was not his worry taking yet another disguise.

“Oh, you’re a thief alright”.

“Is there something of yours I happen to have taken?” Janus retorted with a vague tone of amusement.

Patton cradled his left cheek in a firm request to see his face. Who was Janus to deny him?

“You know all too well you have”.

Oh.

“Well, that would make two of us”.

Patton’s expression melted into more honey. It always made Janus unsure as to whether he had made a mistake, no matter how unfounded the doubt was.

“Thank you” the words rebounded in proximity against the other’s lips. Janus didn’t know Patton could also be cruel.

“A little sincerity never hurt anyone”.

“You are not anyone” he smiled softly.

“Then make the pain up to me”.

Both their lips made contact like a wax seal on a letter. Janus pushed Patton against a low piece of furniture. From how the other fumbled, he could tell a corner was pressing against him. Despite the sting, Patton still committed himself to their affections. If that wasn’t a metaphor for their relationship Janus didn’t know what it was. Janus knew Patton would disagree, of course.

It seemed that exchanging one piece of furniture for another, the bed, would not be possible. Someone was knocking on the door.

“Janus…” Patton panicked in a hushed voice.

“Not a problem, my dear, this is my speciality” he smiled at him.

Janus’ feet almost flew over the carpet, muffled by the Persian fibres and his expertise on avoiding the parts of the floor that creaked. He turned the key of Patton’s wardrobe without the distinctive noise most people couldn’t avoid. Luckily for them, he wasn’t most people. The door mysteriously closed itself from the inside. Janus could swear to hear Patton draw a breath in wonder as to how he had done it.

“My son, let me in!” a voice came from the corridor.

“On my way, father”.

The mule-like bray of the alcove’s door hinges Janus detested preceded the sound of a set of footsteps he knew and loathed just as well, if not more.

“Were you reading yourself for bed? Ah, do not answer, I can already see your night robes over there. How many times need I tell you, call the servants to dress you, it is unbecoming that you do not. Moreso with the status you are to acquire”.

Janus almost scoffed upon hearing it.

It wasn’t that Janus outright looked down on Signor Morandi. He certainly held an admirable reputation and an even more admirable wealth. He contributed to the church, upheld his honour, was a patron to a few talented artists and did everything expected from someone of his status. By societal definition, he was an outstanding man. But, he could never understand Patton. Yes, Patton’s behaviour in public also stood to scrutiny. He was a young man to be admired, for sure. Yet, it somehow mismatched any other person’s strive for reputability. Patton lacked this performative quality, eagerness, if you will, that he found time and time again in people.

At first, Janus struggled to comprehend it. Everyone had desires outside of the strictly polite, they either pretended they didn’t or tried to hide it, that’s why they paid the church, after all. Janus didn’t believe people made an effort to actively align with the global canon for morality, just to look like it or deceive themselves. This theory on society made it so when he met Patton he simply dismissed him as a try-hard, later to relabel him as self-deceiving. Maybe he was a victim of his own biased cynicism.

As they grew closer, he started to get the whole picture. To his surprise, Patton tried to get his desires to align with what he perceived as morally correct, sometimes failing miserably. Janus’ presence in his room didn’t qualify as a success by society’s criteria... Patton’s effort to be ‘good’ did not come from a place of wishing to be perceived as such. Patton didn’t want to look good, he needed to be good. A good man. The realisation was hard to process but true.

Once he understood that, Janus could not let go. It stands to reason that, if that kind of person were to earn his affection, someone like his father would awaken his spite. Signor Morandi had simply never made an effort to understand his son’s motivations, unlike Janus. If he was a cynic, Patton was a victim to his own good intentions.

“I do not understand”.

“Lady Renata Regio is alive”.

“Oh”.

“Yes, it is most fortunate, you will no longer have to stay inside and miss the festival”.

“Well, father, I am not sure if that is appropriate, her ladyship must be feeling poorly after such a horrid experience. Perhaps it is best if I stay in and promptly send a letter to help soothe her”.

“Patton, it honours you to be willing to put the weak’s suffering before yours, but it is not needed in this case. You do not have to concern yourself with her. I am afraid that she is safe and sound on the account of having planned her own kidnapping. Lady Renata Regio has joined the pirates bringing disgrace upon her family, the wretched woman”.

Yes! Janus thought. Neither the wardrobe nor the entire room could contain his joy at hearing it.

“That is most unfortunate, should I reassure her family that I do not hold any resentment towards them?”

“It would be no good, there is going to be a scandal!” Signor Morandi sounded too happy.

Janus could not help but to smile a little.

“Are we going to pursue any retaliation?” Janus almost saw Patton shudder in the tone he used. “I do not think it necessary, it is a matter of marriage, although important, there are many other options that--”

“Yes, there are many other women to pursue, that is the spirit! In said spirits, I must inform you of the most wonderful news I have just received”.

What?

“Today a trusted servant from the Regio estate arrived at our home”.

“Yes, Virginia Fusco”, of course, Patton knew her name. “I personally received her, she refused to tell me exactly why she was sent here, also insisted to wait to talk to you”.

“Precisely, well, it turns out she is the personal servant of Lady Romina Regio”.

“The eldest of the twin daughters of the Regio?”

“Indeed. Let me be frank with you son, the Regio know they cannot keep the true actions of their lesser daughter hidden forever, a rumour is meant to surface eventually. This is very unfortunate for them, I have heard they were planning to match Lady Romina with a higher member of the nobility. Her sister’s actions have ruined her chances, it is unlikely that whoever was to marry her will accept such a union. My son, you know I always have your best interests in mind, Lady Renata Regio was a fine choice to provide you with connections to nobility. In turn, her family would have got access to our wealth, which, after their losses in the war, they need”.

Oh no.

“This being the circumstances, they have to choose how to align themselves in the future and what would be more advantageous to the family”.

“Shit” Janus said under his breath.

“We are about to reach an agreement for a marriage between Lady Romina Regio and you. I need you to understand that, if you are to accept, you will have to face some troubles, at least initially. The rumours about Lady Renata’s motivations may taint your reputation for a short while and the Regio’s rush to marry off Lady Romina will raise more rumours”.

“What choice would please you the most?”

“Oh, Patton, you idiot”.

“The union could make your child a count, you could potentially obtain a title depending on how we negotiate with the family. It is my wish that you accept this marriage”.

“Will this bring honour to our family?”

“Certainly”.

“Then…” an air of doubt went through Patton’s voice.

Janus was debating whether or not to burst out of the closet, either to tell him to refuse or to scold him for not accepting immediately what was probably the best opportunity of his life.

“Of course I will accept”.

“You make me very happy and proud, my son. I will meet with the servant girl to send her back with a letter requesting to meet with Lord Regio”.

The words were spoken carelessly. Signor Morandi often did that around his son, not knowing how many times he had been overheard by him. He may be a great man by society’s standards, but he could never be a good man.

Janus slumped against the back of the wardrobe, surrounded by pieces of clothing he could never afford. There was a world in which Patton had refused. But Patton hadn’t been left a real choice, so he could find some comfort in knowing this thing between the two had to end due to him being backed into a corner. Better than having Patton’s morals come between them. That, he would never reconcile with.

This was better than before. Being cast away for something as mundane as marriage, no matter the useful connections involved, was one thing, being left for a countess, well, if that’s what it took to refuse him he wouldn’t complain too much.

He would have preferred a marchioness or a duchess.

He would have preferred to be the only thing standing in between Patton and kingship and still win.

He would definitely prefer it if Signor Morandi was to accidentally fall down a flight of stairs on his way to writing his pesky letter.

There was nothing like a fire to persuade someone, even a countess…

But Patton would be upset.

His hawk screeched from the roofs above. Then footsteps rushed to his side, followed by candlelight flooding the inside of the closet.

Patton had no right to look so humble yet so marvellous. Not even the warmth of the flame could rival with that of his gaze. A gaze that was his’, not of any countess. But, still, a gaze that deserved to become a count.

“Janus…”

Honey clogging up his ears, that was the shape of a whisper.

“I suppose”, he shook off the dust of his cape and held his head up with dignity, “this is when we part. I’d love to say it’s a pity, but we saw it coming. Guess it was nice to enjoy it while it lasted. I’m always a letter away, my dear, that countess of yours wouldn’t ever find out”.

This was the bitter taste of selflessness. He never understood how Patton enjoyed it.

Janus turned around, ready to make his merry way out of Villa Morandi or fall off the balcony properly this time. Suddenly, Patton’s armed chained the two of them to their spot in the room. Patton’s chest heaved pitifully in a mockery of a hiccup.

“I’m sorry. What was I supposed to do? There was no other choice. I didn’t wish to upset you. Please--”

“What do you think you’re doing?”

He promptly let him go.

“I…”

Janus turned back to face him.

“You think crying will make this easier? Do you seriously think I enjoy this? I would gladly rob you of everything and have you entirely to myself. It is taking so much self-restraint to not get your father into a tragic accident, my dear. If anything, you’re making it worse by crying. I am doing this for you. Don’t you dare ruin the one honourable thing I will do in my life”.

“How can I pretend to be happy when you’re leaving?”

There were sparks of light encased in his tears. Something about their ironic beauty left him even more heart-broken.

“What am I going to do, then? I can be selfish to an extent, but I cannot take the rest of your life too. You’re being offered a title and a wife, all the things someone at your level could wish for. Don’t be more of an imbecile, keep it. It is already inappropriate for you to be seen with the likes of me, and it’s even worse with me being a man”.

“You’ve never cared about that”.

“But you do! Let resume, dear”, he tried to say in his most condescending voice. It didn’t sound even remotely like it. “You go to church each Sunday, you have five bibles just in this room and the most sincere good-samaritan complex I have ever seen. I know you can’t bear to live in sin”.

“I can’t bear to live without you either!”

Oh, Patton, you fool, silly, ridiculous man…

“What…” he felt as if he was going crazy.

A chuckle escaped through the spaces in between his teeth. Janus looked downwards and whispered.

“What are you saying?”

This self-consciousness, he had never felt anything like it before. Was he blushing?

“I love you… I know it’s wrong, so why doesn’t it feel like it?”

More honey. What a way for his plan to backfire.

“This is ridiculous, you should be concerning yourself with more important--”

Patton placed the back of his hand under his jaw to raise his head with such gentleness... stupid.

“Is it ridiculous when it’s making you cry like this?”

A compassionate man’s tears were not worth his. He had never been as sure as now that this was a mistake. Yet he longed for him more than ever.

“Of course not” he wiped away his tears feigning some kind of dignity.

As quickly as ever, he also pretended to regain his composure.

“Do you have any sort of plan for what you’re going to do next? Under pressure, you’re a terrible improviser, my love”.

“Well...I can’t let you go. I know as much. I should, for my family, father, my honour. But I will not. You’ve shown me that acting selfishly doesn’t make someone evil. I will find a way to fulfil my duty without giving you up, you have my word”.

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aphroditeslesbian · 3 years

Note

I was also raised 7th day Adventist and I’m a closeted lesbian. I don’t hate my religion..because I personally didn’t have a bad experience with it in my childhood, but it clashes a lot with my beliefs and well parts of my identity. I’m feeling a bit helpless because this religion has been a big part of my life, a lot of strong women I look up to in my life are sda, and my local sda community is very wholesome. And by now you can sense my reluctance in letting it go. I’ve been coping by thinking I should find a gay-friendly sda church once I move out.. if I ever get married. What’s your journey been like? 🪴

Hey! I don't meet a lot of sda online, it's interesting to hear a different perspective. I'm gonna go into everything, bc my experiences with sda really shaped me, and yeah, it's been a wild, not so fun ride.

Basically I was baptized catholic as an infant, but my family isn't practicing catholic. My mom is very religious, and wanted me to have a good education... In Brazil, we have very poor public education in primary and secondary school, and the best schools are the private ones... Which are also religious schools. So I wound up studying in a sda school from kindergarten to highschool graduation.

So from a young age (4 yo) I was raised on my school's religious beliefs. I was really involved, and my childhood best friend was also sda, she lived a couple floors down from me and we'd hang out often, and her family would bring me to church on Saturdays (there was a sda church across the street from the apartments we lived in). I was the staple Christian child, I prayed every night and every morning, apart from all the prayer at school ofc. At 8yo they did a talk at school about the importance of baptism, and I asked my parents to allow me to be baptized as sda. My mom surprisingly didn't want me to be baptized again, not so young, but my dad said I should do what I wanted, so I was baptized again at the school's church. Literally the school had an auditorium for our weekly religion-related classes, which we called "chapel", and was basically like going to church – but mandatory, as it was during school time. This specific school also had a church built on the side, so yeah.

During my early childhood through preteen years I had no issues with the school's teachings and sda ideology. It was all I had ever known, my family encouraged religion and we'd also sometimes (rarely) go to catholic church. I honestly didn't even realize people could not believe in god until I was 12/13.

I had never really heard much about being gay, or being anti gay during primary school - I may have forgotten having ever heard it from teachers. I only heard about homophobia from peers, and so I knew that being gay was a bad, evil, gross thing.

When I was around 11/12 we moved to a smaller town, and I started at a smaller Adventist school. I was the only one in my small newly found friend group who was baptized, and moving was very traumatic for me, so I started becoming less active in church. I became severely depressed because of the move and other stuff at home, and turned to the internet for a distraction.

I first heard about atheism from a youtuber, and he was known for his controversial takes (he's pretty nasty, it's only gotten worse with time but anyway). I guess a mixture of depression, becoming a teen, having my rebellious phase, I started researching into it.

My religion teacher (we had "religion" classes, but they should really have been called "7th Day Adventism classes") was much harsher than the one I had at my first school. This was around the time that Twilight was a big deal, and I read those books sooo many times for comfort, I got into Harry Potter etc. Not long after I moved to this school, we had a religion class about how Harry Potter was inspired by the devil. My books were often confiscated during class, even if I had already finished my assignments and was reading quietly, even if they were just on my desk. Being super depressed and introverted, with very few friends, books were my refuge. Having the teachers look down on them and literally say they were devilish and evil really started to shift my view of the religion. I knew these were good books, I loved them. So how could they be evil?

I have a very strong memory of praying and praying once and begging Jesus and god to help me, to give me a sign, because I was terrified of losing my religion, of losing god. All I had learned my whole life was that god is good, god is love etc. How come god wasn't helping me, my family, through some of the worst times? How come I was alone?

At around 12/13 my cousin came out to me as bi, and soon after another cousin came out as gay. I barely fully understood what that meant, and the internet was again where I researched about it. I realized I liked girls at the time, but I never understood you could even be married to a woman, as a woman. Even though I knew I liked and was attracted to girls, I never let myself think too much on it. The school was pretty obvious about how marriage is between a man and a woman, our "sex talk" was a class with our religion teacher. Bio talk was split, the boys left the room so we could learn about female anatomy and stuff, and then the boys had the room, etc. Our religious teacher was very adamant about how one shouldn't have sex before marriage, and marriage was between a man and a woman so...

Honestly the basework they laid was to erase homosexuality. I didn't even grasp that I could be anything but attracted to girls, I didn't realize I could do anything about it.

And then in highschool, I guess bc we were old enough, they finally started being outspoken about their hatred of gay people. There would be snide comments from the Portuguese/Lit teacher, a disgusting talk from the History teacher about how gay men's sexual activity leads to anal incontinence, the Religion teacher saying it was wrong, comparing it to criminality, the school's vice principal giving us a lecture and making sure to hammer in the worst thing anyone could turn out to be was homosexual.

At this point I thought I was okay with my same sex attraction, I thought these things weren't getting under my skin. But then I learned about being trans, and I came to the conclusion that since I was into girls, I couldn't be a woman. I identified as trans from around 15-19. That was internalized misogyny and homophobia, that was me actually letting all the snide little comments settle deep in me, and shape who I was.

Anyway, at around 14 I was done. School was teaching us that bastard kids aren't blessed by god (me and my siblings are all "bastards" as my parents were never married). They told us couples who lived together and we're never married were not blessed by god, and implied they were bound to have issues for their sin.

I was a teenager living in a broken home, my father was emotionally abusive to me and my mother, and honestly at the end of the day I had to choose if I wanted to believe in a god who was supposedly love itself, yet didn't protect me and my young siblings and my mom... Or not believe in god at all.

Leaving the church and coming to terms with not believing in god was one of the toughest times in my life. My depression was in the gutter, I was self harming, I was struggling. I remember thinking of my cousins, whom I was very close with growing up, and knowing they were good people, so how could god not love then? I remember thinking of myself, of all I had done for the church, for god, and wondering how could god not accept me.

For me, the church was poison. I only saw hypocrisy, I saw people who judged each other, who cared more about their own concepts of right and wrong than being mindful of others. I saw my teachers who preached being kind, but ridiculed and laughed at other religions and those who believed them. When I was questioning religion, I always had sooo many questions for my religion teacher and so often she just told me that some questions were too big for us to understand, that only god could fully comprehend himself.

I'm proud to have come out the other side, but I won't lie. The community that church represents does seem so lovely and welcoming. I wanted to be a part of something, and church offered that.

But at the end of the day, there's no space for me, a lesbian, in there. They don't believe gay marriage is okay, they don't condone our "lifestyle". They think this is a choice we're making, and a bad one at that.

The childhood friend I mentioned earlier, who I used to go to church with, actually came out as a lesbian a couple years ago as well. Her sda family is giving her a really hard time. She's left the church, last I heard.

Honestly, my advice would be to find other community. Find community with other lesbians, people who can accept you unconditionally, who can offer you support without small print. That's what I'm trying to do.

I personally am against christianity for a lot of other reasons besides my very negative experiences. Maybe that's not you, and in that case I guess finding a church that is LGB friendly can be the answer. I couldn't judge anyone for choosing to stay, because like I said I really understand how nice it can feel, how it's like you belong in this community, how it can feel like the church is family.

But I really suggest deep soulsearching, because in my experience all they ever did for me was suck all my energy, all my devotion, and spit me out when I was never going to be the heterosexual good girl they expected me to be.

Sorry for the super long answer, I hope this helps some? If you wanna talk more in private you can hit me up through DMs, I'm very willing to listen and talk about it.

#anti religion #sda #august rants #homophobia #lesbophobia #misogyny

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capricornus-rex · 4 years

Note

*pokes fingers together* If you take promts, I'm not sure if this has been done before but what about reader getting a semi-serious injury so they're out of action for a while (like lightsaber holding wrist/arm/etc) but they are restless and want to get back into practicing and battling really quick, pushing themselves and of course Cal is there to make sure they... don't. XD Taking care of them, refusing practice until they are fully healed and such. Well, only if you like the idea ofc~ :3

I think I’ve done something similar to this but only for a minor wound, so this time you’re the one with the major wound prompt hehe ^w^ Sorry if it’s a bit too short, but I hope you’d still like this! 💕

“Just A Scratch” | Cal Kestis x Reader

Masterlist

The quaint settlement town in Lothal is disturbed by the hot pursuit of two Jedi. The speeder bikes zoomed past the denizens, shifting left and right to catch up with the Jedi taking the sharp turns around the curb.

“Stop there! Insurgents!” the patrol trooper taking the lead barked.

“This way, hurry!” Cal snatched you by the arm and made a blind turn to the alley.

Squeezing yourselves in that narrow annex, Cal waited and listened for the sound of the speeder’s engine receding. You slowly peeked your head over the wall and surveyed the street left and right.

“Are they gone?” Cal mumbled.

“I think so,”

You emerged out of that tight fit and scanned again for good measure. Cal followed when you confirmed that the coast is clear. The two of you headed to the direction you intended to go. As you sprinted through the streets, both of you were watchful on the turns and curbs along the way—presuming that there’d be a Stormtrooper or two waiting for you.

Cal scraped his boots against the road when he spotted a couple of Stormtroopers coming out of the curb ahead of you.

“Nope! This way, this way!” he whispered, snatching you by the wrist and dragging you to the alleyway directly beside him.

This whole pursuit is happening in this maze of a town. It’s amazing that Lothalites are able to navigate their way through such a complicated layout. After one wrong turn, you ended up getting spotted by a group of three guards—one on a speeder and two Stormtroopers.

“I found the insurgents! They’re in the western alley at Block 8C!” the Stormtrooper radioed and aimed his blaster at you.

“Oh crud, RUN!!” you screeched and turned the other way.

The two of you easily deflected the Stormtroopers’ shots but are now in pursuit of another patrol trooper—this one wasn’t even riding the scooter-like model, the one he drove was the kind of speeder bike armed with blaster cannons.

After a while of sprinting, Cal noticed that the sound of the speeder bike has receded.

“Is he still on us?!” Cal asked.

“I don’t even wanna look back!”

In your collective periphery, the trooper has made himself quite resourceful with the environment—he slid up a toppled awning that led him to the rooftops as he continued the chase, he really hit the pedal to the metal with his bike until he’s gotten ahead of you. The two of you watched his entire stunt as you ran.

“What is he doing!?” you squealed.

The biker patroller jumped off a rooftop when he got to a considerable distance ahead of you—that was his plan all along: he meant to cut off your path by going on ahead and stopping you there. You hate to admit that the trooper was good driver and a daredevil nonetheless.

He had his speeder bike idled on one end of the road while the two of you stood at the other.

With the press of a button on the dashboard, the barrels of the cannons whirred and aimed at the general direction of his enemy, the trooper’s thumb rested on the trigger, it trembled with eagerness as he peered through the black visor of his helmet.

The Jedi couple unclipped their sabers from their belts.

Promptly, the trooper pressed the button, releasing two simultaneous shots from the cannons. Compared to typical handheld blasters, projectiles from vehicle cannons were much trickier to deflect and required more precision. Your eagle eye spotted the barrel of the cannon pointing at Cal and the trooper was lowering his thumb to the red button.

“CAL, WATCH OUT!!”

You shouldered Cal out of the line of fire. In exchange, your dodge got lousy and the thick, red projectile had cut through your sleeve, gravely injuring your bicep. A mixture of clear liquid and hot blood trickled smoothly down on your skin. The pain was so sharp and abrupt that the fingers that curled around your lightsaber rendered completely limp. The burning sensation made you fumble to your knees.

“[Y/N]!!”

Cal quickly dragged you out of the scene, keeping you cover behind a stack of crates before facing the trooper.

The biker sped straight ahead, closing its distance from the Jedi; in the blink of an eye, when the vehicle was just neck-and-neck with Cal, he severed the two-pronged front and the blaster cannons with his saber until the vehicle spun out of control and then crashed into another incoming biker scout.

He watched the enemies and their vehicles reduced to shrapnel and flames as he took deep breaths. He immediately turned his attention to you. You struggle to take slow, rhythmic breaths while easing yourself from the pain. Cal slowly removed your other hand that’s been pressuring on the wound to stop the bleeding. You winced and breathed through clenched teeth when he separated your hand from the injury, blood and water curdled under your hand until it became a sticky mixture to make your palm appear glued to the flesh wound.

“BD, stim!”

“B-Boo!!”

BD-1 popped out a single stim from his container and Cal injected the bright green syringe on your shoulder. You winced at the quick jab of the needle as the substance entered your body.

“Aww God, I can’t feel it,” you moaned.

“The stim?”

“No, my arm,”

“Come on, I’ll help you up,”

Cal made a crutch out of himself for you as he helped you hobble your way back to the outskirts of the town where the Mantis is.

Even though Cere wasn’t surprised anymore to see either of you coming home with a scratch, she always gives that stern, motherly look at both of you when she greets you by the door or at the couch.

“Just a scratch!” you scoffed smugly at her.

“That’s one hell of a scratch, if you ask me,”

“Nothing a little bacta can fix,” you winked as Cal shepherded you to the bedroom.

“Alright, alright, let’s get you cleaned and patched up!”

He helped you remove your top which now has a large gash on the sleeve, revealing the flesh wound with dried blood smeared on its radius.

“Thing of beauty, isn’t it?” you blurted jokingly.

“I’m glad the trooper didn’t hit your funny bone,” he chuckled back. “Wait here, I’ll just get some water.”

For the next minute, you stared at the flesh wound. The clear liquid clumped and dried, turning into a slight yellow color, you carefully plucked out the fibers that adhered to the surface of the injury. The sound of the bathroom door shut and Cal returned to the room.

“Don’t pick at it,” he lectured.

“It’s just the threads of my shirt,”

He soaked then wrung a towel in the bowl of water he collected from the bathroom, gingerly wiping off the dried blood and then daubing the wound itself. One of the things you loved about Cal is how gentle his hands were—for a scrapper, no less.

“I guess I owe you one,”

“It’s nothing, Cal,”

“No, really,” he looked at you with sincerity in his clear, green eyes. “Thank you. I don’t know how you do it but you’re always saving my life.”

“You’re welcome,” you leaned closer to kiss him on the forehead.

The cycle repeated: soak, wring, and dab. When it was finally clean, he cut a strip of bacta—long enough to ring around your arm—and secured it with its adhesive.

“There, all patched up. You’re not gonna use that lightsaber for a few days,”

“So… I’m out of action for now?” Cal replied with a nod and you rolled your eyes at him.

“Don’t get any funny ideas unless you want your other arm hurt,”

You sighed in defeat. There was no more room for argument. Cal playfully touched the tip of your nose, consoling you with a cheek kiss before leaving the room to return the materials. Simply reaching for your saber became a struggling, as the slightest turn strained your arm and—albeit limp—it felt heavy. To make the numbness go away, you flexed your fingers, opening and closing your fist at a pace, though you found it hard to maintain your usual grip.

You practiced the grip exercises on one of the tools sitting on the workbench. You practiced gripping on a wrench—starting off softly, you gradually progressed to the usual tightness of your grip but your fingers felt numb as well. Frustrated, you dropped the tool and sat back on the bed—and Cal had spotted you trying to regain your grip.

“Look, I know it’s hard right now, but trying to practice on anything isn’t a good idea right now,”

You grumbled something indistinct, Cal held your cheeks and then smothered your face with kisses. He took you out of the room so you could join everyone for lunch.

That afternoon, everyone lazed inside the ship—except for you, of course. You snuck out of the ship, tiptoeing past the cockpit—luckily, Merrin had her back turned when facing the holotable—and you hit the button as quietly as you could. You slipped past the door, finally, and the soles of your boots found the grass.

It looked and felt awkward, but you unclipped your saber with your left hand—which you aren’t obviously used to—and did some handling practice with it unignited.

“Okay, so far, so good. Could never go wrong with basic spins,” you tell yourself.

You thought that igniting then wielding it in a non-dominant arm is the stupidest thing that ever crossed your action-desperate mind. You switched the saber to your good hand and repeated the same grip exercises that you did with the wrench earlier.

Even if it pained you whenever you moved it, you tried to perform your usual attack swings and strikes, a spinning attack would be the most daring in this circumstance.

You came to the conclusion that it was lousier when wielding it with your dominant but messed up arm.

“My right arm is practically dead at this point,” you scoffed.

You looked for something to practice your left-handedness on, you spotted a withered tree trunk standing not far from the ship and you decided to walk towards it.

In less than two paces, you feel an arm hook around your waist, causing you to drop your lightsaber to the soil. He hoisted you up to his shoulder until you’re hanging behind his back, while securing you by the thighs.

“Where do you think you’re going, kitty cat?”

“Oh come on!” you whined, smacking his back in retaliation. “I swear I wasn’t going to the tree to practice.”

“Uh-huh, sure you are,” Cal replied with his signature sarcasm, blatantly ignoring your light slaps on the broad of his back. “Bad girl.”

You gradually gave up on the continuous, light slapping on his back as he carried you all the way back to the ship. You reached for your saber, pulling it with the Force towards your hand before he could get farther.

“Sneak out once more and I’ll punish you,” he firmly said.

“Okay,” you nonchalantly replied, waving your saber around as he marched. You smirked to yourself. “I’ll sneak out tonight then.”

“No, you’re not,”

The two of you mockingly bickered back and forth whether or not you’ll sneak out in the dead of night just to get a swing of your saber. He settled you down on the couch like a toddler, bent down to level with you and looked at you in the eye.

“Hot chocolate?”

“Yes,” you perked.

“Promise me you won’t sneak out first,”

“Of course, it was a damn bribe,” you muttered.

“Promise?” he repeated, but sternly this time.

With a comical innocence, your free hand held your right arm by the wrist, raised it up in mid-air and a limp hand bobbed to the side.

“Padawan’s honor,”

Cal raised an eyebrow.

“What rank do you want? Grandmaster’s honor?”

“Good girl,” he smiled and kissed the tip of your nose before retreating to the kitchen.

Your eyes followed him until he began fishing out cups and spoons from the drawers. Utensils lightly clattered here and there, the viscous chocolate sloshed from the pitcher to the glasses. He brought one for each of you and he cuddled into you on the couch. He scooped up your legs and rested them over his lap, he puts his arm around your shoulder, sipping away the sweet liquid each minute while nuzzling his cheek on your head.

“I hope this heals soon,” you muttered, a sad, bored tone rang in your words.

“Soon, sweetie,” he kisses your forehead. “Soon. Then we’ll go practice once it’s not so bad anymore.”

“Promise?” you angled your head up so you could look at him in the eye.

He smiled at the sight of your soulful, puppy eyes.

“I promise.”

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villainousshakespeare · 4 years

Text

A Forest Interlude

Summary: Eleonore (OFC) discovers a wounded man in the woods near her home and seeks to heal him. Little does she know that it is none other than the heir to the throne, Prince Hal of England.

Rated E

Warnings: smut, sex fluff, angst, oral sex (female receiving), fingering, hand jobs

In this chapter: Hal’s reality comes crashing into his romance

Read the entire story on AO3

@nrthmnsplbnd09 ; @nonsensicalobsessions @yespolkadotkitty @just-the-hiddles @from-hel-i-with-love livviedoo @hopelessromanticspoonie @arch-venus25 @caffiend-queen @dangertoozmanykids101 @kellatron55 @myoxisbroken @thecutestlittlebunbunfairy @vodka-and-some-sass @shiningloki @hiddlesholic

Time seemed to have slowed almost to a halt as Hal watched the proceedings from the shadows of the doorway to the kitchen. His mood of just seconds ago, buoyant, lustful, and eager, shattered and turned to a panicked horror as he watched his brother Jon step forward and introduce himself to Nell. Desperately he tried to Will Jon to disappear, or at least to speak no further, that Hal himself might be the one reveal his true identity to her.

"And as for what I call your lucky guest, why brother and His Highness, Prince of Wales."

The words were spoken, impossible to be recalled. When he finally ascended the throne, years hence God willing, Hal vowed that his very first act would be to declare fratricide legal.

"The Prince of Wales? Why what a fool I've been," he heard Nell utter in shock.

Watching her, the way her back stiffened and her head snapped up as if struck, Hal grieved for his Nell, cursing himself, his brother, all the world for inflicting any sort of unpleasantness on her. The men surrounding Jon, grasping leaches all, exchanged glances, chuckling amongst themselves, and Hal's hand itched to do violence to them. How dare they condescend to one so far above them in all measurable ways?

"Your Grace must pardon me, pray come inside," Nell said a moment later, wrapping herself in the poise and grace born of generations of nobility. "You and your fellows are most welcome here."

They would be more welcome at the bottom of the Chanel, Hal thought darkly. He should step forward, he knew. He should proclaim himself and rescue Nell from the situation she now found herself trapped in. Yet even as he knew this to be true, his feet refused to move. He did not think he could bring himself to look into her eyes, those lovely, fathomless grey pools that glistened like a calm winter sea, and see the betrayal shining there.

"Might I be so bold as to ask your name?" Jon asked Nell solicitously as she lead them a few steps further into the room. "And into who's good care my brother fell?"

The way Jon was holding Nell's hand was becoming problematic for Hal. His younger brother had always been a touch quiet, particularly in comparison to Hal. This had allowed the general opinion of the world to think him shy, even a touch innocent. In fact, Hal knew that Jon was far more perceptive, and far more shrewd than people gave him credit for. He had noted long ago the way his brother used his reputation to put others, particularly women, at their ease. They would find themselves drawing him out, comforting him, assuaging his shyness, and the next thing they knew they would find themselves in his bed. Hal would be damned if Nell followed such a course.

"My name is Eleonore D'Amboise, Sir," she told him, saying her full name for the first time in Hal's hearing. "My father is the Earl of Danbury. This house, though mean, belongs unto the Earl."

"D'Amboise! In sooth," one of the other men gasped, "oh fortune, smile you down! Perchance it then your mother is at home?"

Another round of ribald laughter, grating upon Hal's ears, greeted this question. The speaker, one Archibald West, was known to Hal, a younger son desperate for advancement. Silently he swore to make sure that the man was posted to the farthest reaches of Antipodes.

"She is, sir, but doth not receiveth guests," Nell ground out repressively. "I fear it is with me that you must deal."

"A hardship more for you than for ourselves," Jon assured her sweetly.

"I pray you all, be seated at your rest," Nell's voice was beginning to fray about the edges, "While I do go to fetch for you The Prince."

The bite on the last words was enough to convince Hal that she had had enough. Saying a silent prayer to whatever force might look out for wayward men, Hal steeled himself and stepped into the room.

"No need for that, my Lady, I am here."

As often happened all eyes instantly swung to him. He wished intently they had not. The men surrounding his brother were all quick to nod their heads in deference, even if their faces showed surprise or stark amusement based on their varying natures. Jon, a soft smile on his face that showed not a hint of surprise, raised a speaking eyebrow at Hal as he quickly took in Hal's casual clothing and the sling holding up his arm. Hal could see the questions unspoken in his brothers eyes, and sighed at the knowledge that a long and painful grilling was inevitable.

At last, reluctantly, he turned his eyes to Nell. Lord, she was beautiful in her anger! His first thought, fundamentally inappropriate, had him willing his over eager cock to stay still. This was decidedly not the time. As he focused in on her eyes, however, any stirrings of lust were quickly overcome by the icy cold deluge of regret. The hurt, betrayal, and worse embarrassment he saw cut him to the very bone. He needed to get her alone, he thought. To explain everything, as if there was an explanation sufficient to his crime

"Harry, thank the Lord that you are well," Jon said at last, as the accusing silence stretched out.

"I wrote to you as much, I do recall," he replied with silken malice, wanting to shake his brother for his ill timed arrival. "There was no reason, then, to seek me out."

"It seems you have a great deal to discuss," Nell's brisk voice cut through the tension between the brothers, "and therefore will I leave you to yourselves a go seek out some repast for your friends."

"But tarry, Nell, you do not need to flee," he pleaded, grabbing her arm as she went to go by him.

"Your Highness must forgive me, as I hope," she ground out, not looking at him. "For I am not attired as I am in fit state to receive such august guests. I beg you, Sire, give me leave to go."

The title, spoken with such a mixture of formality and loathing, caused him to release her from his grasp.

"Then go Nell, but I warn you go not far," he told her quietly, voice pitched so only she could hear him. "For you and I have much still to discuss, and know, my love, that if you try to run, that I will go to Hell to track you down."

Not deigning to answer him, Nell dropped a quick, graceful curtsy and fled the room.

"It never ceases to amaze me Hal," Jon said, crossing to clap him on the shoulder, "how it doth matter not where you do go, but there be some fair, beddable maid there. Tell me, have you seen the mother yet? If rumor and the daughter's looks hold true, she must put Aphrodite then to shame! Come, out with it! I know you've lingered here. And now 'tis clear the reason for your stay. So is it just the daughter you pursued, or had your way with both of the D'Amboise?"

Not thinking, but acting purely on instinct, Hal's good arm swung out to strike his brother a blow across the face. Jon, reeling backwards from the punch in a quite satisfactory fashion, was quickly helped up by his companions to look accusingly at Hal.

"You will not speak, Jon, of the lady thus," he seethed. "She has done nothing to deserve such talk. It is all to her skill I owe my life, for I was left for dead, if you must know. The lady found me lying in the woods, wounds to my head, my ribs, a broken arm, and brought me back here to attend on me."

"Forgive me Hal, I did but speak in jest," Jon insisted, eyes wide at Hal's heat. "I mean no disrespect unto the maid."

"Then give none, for I will not hear a word that anyone shall speak against her, Jon. For she is clever, kind, and generous. Her family name, though the Earl be exiled, is of the highest rank, impeccable. And as for Nell, the Lady Eleonore, she is herself so far above you Jon, or me or any of those here amassed, that we should look up to but kiss her foot. So keep a civil tongue within your mouth, lest I be forced to disconnect your jaw."

"Why, faith now Harry, this is a new tune!" Jon laughed, massaging his jaw as he did. "What, would you wed her that you speak her so? Indeed, she must be a true paragon to so impress the wastrel Prince of Wales!"

"Try not to be an altogether fool," he sniped back. "Come, I would have a word or two alone."

As Hal lead Jon outside into the sunshine, his mind reeled at his brother's words. The question, so idly put as it was struck Hal in the gut. Surely Jon did jest! Yes, Hal was rightly enraged by his brother's slight against Nell, and therefore sought to defend her honor, but what prince and knight would do less? He would not let so good a woman as she be slandered by anyone. Not when the only sin she had committed had come about at his hands. But marriage? That was years away, and no doubt destined to be to a foreign princess selected by his father more for her lineage and connections than for her figure or her mind.

And yet... that little voice whispered in his mind, if one were to look for lineage and connections, one could do far worse than a daughter of the D'Amboise family.

"In faith now, Hal, be not so wrought with me," Jon was saying as they sat on low bench in front of the house. "I did not mean to raise you dander up."

"Why came you here to seek me, tell me that?" Hal demanded, letting his inward thoughts still.

"'Twas not for idleness, nor mischief Hal," Jon's voice became serious. "The King, our father, seeks to have you home. I thought it better, having read your note, that I did seek you rather than his man. For, while I might make sport over your chase, I never would betray you to the King."

"Ah, thus I see you did act as a friend," Hal sighed, running his hand over his face. "And did receive for thanks nothing but blows. Forgive me, Jon, you caught me by surprise. The blow I landed you I should have rung against my own head, for I much trespassed. I had not told the Lady my true rank."

"I guessed as much, from watching her react," Jon grinned, much to Hal's irritation. "I must confess, it came as a surprise. If should did know who she had in her home, she might not have been quite so noble, Hal."

Jon had things so backwards that Hal could but laugh. He should be insulted, he knew, that his brother believed that his title might be the thing to attract Nell to him, but he himself had acknowledged that to most women it was great incentive. To his sweet Nell, thought, his name was the thing which he feared would come between them.

"What happens that the King doth call me home?" he asked, knowing he must return and dreading it.

"Why war, what else? The border with the Welsh is all ablaze with skirmishes and raids. It will be full out battle before long."

"With Wales, you say, why that is just the thing!" Hal smiled grimly.

"I beg your pardon? Why say you such a thing?" Jon gaped at him. "I never knew you to have lust for blood."

"Nor do I now, though I shun not to fight," he shrugged, mind racing. "But there are matters I must soon arrange, for which I will require our Father's aid. And if there be unrest with our Welsh lands, it happily doth lay the ground work out."

"And might I know to what these matters tend?" Jon asked curiously. "For you to seek a favor of the King, it must be truly something of great weight!"

"It is indeed a thing most dear to me," he said, picturing Nell spread out on his bed. There is a wedding I mean to prevent, for that the would be groom is but a worm."

"And what can war with Wales avail to that?"

"Why Jon, his sympathies lie with the Welsh, or in any case might look to do. And if he were to rise in his estate, and ally with a greater power still, by forging of a sacred marriage bond, our Father would be strong against the match."

"I see, 'tis good of you to let him know," Jon's attempt to look innocent would most like have fooled others, but Hal saw right through it and bristled at his amusement. "That he might scorch this fire or ere it lights. But tell me, brother, who might be the groom? And who the hopeful bride that you would cross?"

"The bride is far from hopeful, lest it be a hope that this cursed wedding may be stopped. And do not think to I know not what you mean," Hal glared at his brother. "I owe her Jon, and would not see her wed, where she would be unhappy, that is all."

"If you do say so, Hal, I'll take your word," Jon said.

"Speak not of this to any of your friends," Hal let his disapproval of Jon's cohorts sound in the word. "I do not wish it to be widely known. And while I speak of them, I want them gone. I do not trust a single one of them."

"Why, what a lark that you are grown so strict," Jon laughed out loud, rising and holding out his hand to Hal. "Have you no fear, I will away with them. But you, my brother, must be gone with us."

Hal closed his eyes, trying to deny the truth of his brother's words. He knew it was time. A summons from the King could not be denied, not even by the Crown Prince. His idyll here had come to an end, as he had known it would. If only he had a day more, he thought forlornly, or perchance a week. He had not even begun to discover the pleasure to be had with his darling Nell. Not that such pleasures would be granted now, but it was cruel that things should end when they had just begun.

"I will require an hour or two of time," he said, "for I must make amends to my hostess."

"Take all the time you need, my dearest Hal. As long as we are on the road today."

She would understand, he tried to tell himself. After all, he had not lied to her exactly. He had simply omitted titles. And in truth, it was no more than she had done herself. Except, he could not help but remember, she had come clean with the truth, confessed herself before they had consummated their affair. He, a coward, had remained silent.

Could she find it in her heart to forgive him? And would he be able to live with himself if she did not?

#The Hollow Crown #Hollow Crown Fic #Prince Hal #Henry V #Prince Hal/OFC #Romance #Historical Romance #Historical AU #Smut #Angst #Fluff #Family Drama #Hidden Identities #Shakespeare

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