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paintingwhiteceilings · 9 months ago

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❃S/O being drunk/tipsy around Seventeen❃

A/N: So I may have gotten massively drunk last weekend as the region I live in celebrates a specific type of carnival that goes on for five days straight. I might have, maybe, drank a little bit too much during the music festival day and as I was drunkenly stumbling around, I wondered what it would be like to get drunk around svt.

Also, am I the only one who has a K-pop idols I want to get drunk with bias line? Currently, my list consists of Lee Know, Xiumin, Jin and San (to name a few). Just wondering whether that is a normal thing to have or whether I should be concerned about my sanity.

Scoups/Seungcheol

❀ Chances are that if you are drunk around him, so is he. Coups loves a good party on the occasion and isn't a stranger to clubbing. However, where he can hold his liquor and knows his limits, you may have forgotten about yours. Part of him adores your clinginess and finds you adorable; thus, he lets you be your embarrassingly drunk self, laughing at your shameless and less-than-stellar dance moves. As long as you are in the safe, not-too-drunk zone, he will let you have fun and try to match your drinking pace.

❀ However, the moment he notices that you are crossing the line into way too drunk territory, the responsible part of him will kick in, and he will chase you around with water. He will get very serious, going all alpha leader on you and doing whatever it takes for you to take a sip of water.

❀ No amount of cuteness or begging will convince him to stop his getting you sober plight; you can flirt all you want with him, but once he is concerned for your well-being, it is difficult to persuade him to let you keep on drinking. He is definitely not above cutting the night short either, taking you home instead. If you do as much as refuse, he will throw you over his shoulder and walk out like you weigh nothing.

Jeonghan

❀ To the poor soul who decided to get drunk around this man, I hope that he will never feel the urge to show those embarrassing videos that he took of you to those around you. Although he will, of course, keep his eye on you to prevent you from getting progressively drunker, he is enjoying you being drunk way too much. He will have his camera out the entire time and instigate you to do something embarrassing that sober-you would very much regret.

❀ He has an entire folder dedicated to your drunken mishaps, whether it is a five-minute video of you slurring your words as you argue why cows are grossly underappreciated when it comes to favourite animals or you crying as you hug a tree, sobbing that they do not receive enough love. Jeonghan cherishes every single photo and video he took of you being drunk, frequently rewatching them to cheer himself up.

❀ Honestly, it never fails to make you regret drinking around this man because he has no problem using it as blackmail against you. Whenever you try to argue with him during game nights, he will subtly reference one of your entertaining escapades, teasing you that anyone who repeatedly drunkenly asked whether turning a phone on aeroplane mode would give it the ability to fly is in no position to argue with him.

Joshua

❀ He is so unbelievably gentle with you. The moment he senses that you are getting ab bit too tipsy or borderline drunk, he will make sure to switch to water for himself instead. Although he enjoys the occasional drink, he wants to make sure that he is able to take care of you, letting you freely drink whilst he makes sure you do so safely.

❀ He is genuinely the sweetest, listening to all your drunken ramblings with a fond smile on his face. Whenever you are not paying attention to him, he will secretly switch out your alcoholic beverage for water, cheekily gaslighting you into believing that it is still the same drink by taking a sip himself and pretending that you are imagining things when exclaim it no longer tastes like vodka.

❀ When you guys get home, he will go into full caregiver mode, helping you remove your makeup, making sure that you didn’t forget to plug in your phone for the night and laying out your comfiest pyjamas for you to slip into after a brief shower. He will tuck you into bed after making sure that you drank enough water for the night, preparing a glass of water and some medication for you to take in the morning when the hangover kicks in, before turning in himself.

Jun

❀ The moment you enter your shared apartment drunk, Jun feels torn between laughing at your ridiculous actions spurred by your drunkenness and helping you sober up. Seeing you put your hand in the fish tank as you try to pet your now traumatised goldfish because you felt bad for never petting it before is hilarious to him. He is curious about what else you might do, following you around as you try to do more ridiculous things. He is thoroughly invested in seeing where your drunken brain is taking you next and what else you will get up to if he lets you roam around.

❀ Jun will entertain your drunken childlike curiosity, using it to finally be able to do the totally safe experiments you usually tell him off for. The two of you will engage in a plethora of dubious food experiments, mixing different drinks to find out whether they will taste any good together and go to the supermarket to buy a dozen different ice cream flavours in order to rank them all. Where usually you would scold him for trying to see whether a bath can really overflow, drunken-you would join him in watching the water level rise slowly.

❀ However, he simultaneously will be very caring, preparing a hearty meal to combat your drunkenness. He might not be the best chef in Seventeen, but he can cook up a couple of meals that help with absorbing the alcohol, preparing one of them to help you sober up a bit. He will ensure that you eat plenty of it and drink enough water before you go to bed.

Hoshi/Soonyoung

❀ In no universe is this man not drunker than you are when the two of you go out drinking. Hoshi’s tolerance is so incredibly low that he could get drunk on the smell of alcohol alone. The other members have to babysit the both of you, not even for your own safety but for those around you. He would be the type of person who, when you buy your shots, forgets that they are not his and, in his drunken stupor, take them when you turn around to pay. You are too drunk to notice either, not that it matters much, as you finish most of his drinks on accident, too.

❀ The dance floor is a danger zone when you two step onto it. Neither of you cares much about dancing decently; instead, the two of you have a competition going on who can come up with the most creative, shameless dance moves. The dance battle only ends when one of you accidentally knocks over a slow-dancing couple during an emotional ballad.

❀ The other members will ultimately have to step in, guiding you back home before either of you does something illegal. It is easier said than done; the two of you are so incredibly drunk that you decide to pose and take pictures with random statues you spot on your way home. Once home, they try to get you both to drink water but miserably fail as Hoshi completely breaks down, professing his undying love for you between sobs. The night ends with the two of you in each other’s arms, crying about how much you love each other.

Wonwoo

❀ Considering he doesn’t really drink himself, he will make sure you are not exceeding your drinking limits, babysitting you the entire time. However, where he usually makes sure to stop you from getting drunk the moment he notices you are getting tipsy, he hadn’t anticipated that the dinner with the members would turn into an out-of-control drinking party. When they suggested doing some drinking games whilst waiting for the food, he had assumed they would have gone easy on you; instead, you had lost so many of the drinking games that you were borderline drunk by the time that the food reached to your table.

❀ Throughout the dinner, Wonwoo tries to get you to drink as much water as he can. Your glass doesn’t stay empty for long as, rather than eating himself, he is way too focused on making sure that it is constantly filled with water. You have barely swallowed your food when he puts another piece of meat on your plate, hoping that the grease will help you sober up somewhat.

❀ When the members insist on playing more drinking games during and after the dinner, he initially refuses on your behalf. If you insist on continuing, he will awe the members by taking every punishment shot going your way for you. Unfortunately for him, the members have finally figured out a way to get Wonwoo to join their drinking festivities, using you as bait to get the usually introverted member to drink.

Woozi/Jihoon

❀ As another member who rarely, if ever, drinks, he always tells you to be careful when you do. When you get invited out for drinks with the members, he fully trusts them to keep an eye on you for his sake as he is stuck in the studio, having to finish a song. What he is not expecting, however, is for them to call him at 1 AM to come pick you up, as they may have grossly overestimated your alcohol tolerance. He can hear drunk-you brabble about how much you miss him in the background of the phone call as he talks to the members about coming over to take you home.

❀ With a big sigh, he makes his way over to the pub you guys had been drinking at, realizing that it might not have been the smartest to have the members who frequently drink and have built up quite the tolerance take you drinking. He is not necessarily angry at you or the members; instead, he is disappointed in himself for not having been there with you to ensure you would not go past your drinking limits.

❀ He is incredibly gentle with you when he finally arrives at the pub, scooping you up in his arms, ready to take you home. He will hear no apology on your part or the members, reassuring you that it happens and that although he would like for it to be prevented in the future, he understands that getting drunk happens. At home, he will be so soft as he makes sure to give you whatever you need. He will make sure not to leave your side, helping you shower and giving you plenty of cuddles in bed to make you feel better.

DK/Seokmin

❀ Another member who is probably just as drunk as you are, if not more. He would be getting drunk with you, sharing most of his drinks with you to the point where neither of you remembers which drink belongs to whom. He is definitely enabling your drunk behaviour and perhaps even the cause of it because whenever he picks up his shot of soju, he makes sure to give you one, too.

❀ He will rope you into doing something stupid, putting on one of his infamous skits with you as the second lead. You don’t know where he got a wig from, but he is fully engrossed in his role as Sandra, the woman who is about to be eaten by zombies. Where sober-you would be mortified by his behaviour, you are currently too drunk to care, down to join him as one of the vicious zombies. It doesn’t help that a small part of him still feels embarrassed about his actions and keeps taking a swig of the soju bottle left on your now-unoccupied table, making him progressively drunker as the performance continues.

❀ At the very least, your performance will be enjoyed by a considerably large, amused audience who decide to pay for some of your drinks in appreciation, making it a relatively cheap night out. Neither of you will be able to do much the next day as both of you completely forgot to drink water before going to bed, too busy re-enacting the best moments of your play, resulting in a massive hangover. As a result, the two of you spend most of the next day cuddled up in bed; DK claims that your hugs are the best cure for his crushing headache.

Mingyu

❀ Mingyu sometimes forgets that taller people tend to be able to drink more compared to those who are more vertically challenged; thus, he accidentally got you very drunk when he dragged you to go clubbing with him and the members. That being said, he is not feeling too guilty about it because where sober-you would try to limit the PDA in front of the other members, drunk-you completely forget they exist. Mingyu is on cloud nine when you start to touch him more than usual, thinking he has officially gone to heaven as you hug him close and refuse to let go.

❀ He is giggling uncontrollably, as you are all over him, insisting on slow-dancing to every song that comes on, even if it is to the most upbeat techno song. Although he makes sure that you don’t get too drunk, he will not make any attempts to sober you up immediately either, enjoying your attention way too much. He, for sure, will take at least fifty photos and videos where you are kissing his cheek and drunkenly rambling on and on about how much you love him, saving them for a rainy day. You are the cutest person alive to him, and he seriously considers always bringing you along from now on.

❀ Once home, he will make sure that you are fully provided for, cheekily suggesting to shower together as he is incredibly ‘worried’ that you might slip in the shower in your drunken state. Part of Mingyu is slightly sad to see you sober up when he hands you your tenth glass of water in an attempt to prevent a nasty hangover.

The8/Minghao

❀ There is no way in hell that Minghao is not watching you like a hawk when the two of you go drinking, taking away your drinks when he notices that you are getting a bit too out-of-control drunk. You always try to argue with him when he does, whining that you, the adult, know your limits and don’t need him to babysit you. Thus, to prove you wrong and to get you to stop arguing with him whenever he stops you from drinking, he makes a deal with you; you get to drink however much you want, and he won’t interfere with drunk you whatsoever.

❀ This is how you end up drunk out of your mind at one of the members’ birthday parties, challenging Seungkwan to an arm wrestling match after you had tried to beat a drunk and crying Hoshi in a dance battle without much success. You even competed in Scoups’ and Mingyu’s beer pong competition, making you drunker than you already were. Minghao hovers nearby, ready to jump in when necessary, keeping a close eye on your questionable actions. His phone is in his hands as he quietly films you from a distance, ready to present sober-you with the consequences of your drunken decisions.

❀ Nevertheless, he will interfere whenever you are about to do something too embarrassing; sure, he wants you to learn that you do stupid things when wasted, but he does not want you to be relentlessly teased by the other members for your intoxicated mishaps. Minghao will immediately take you back home and sober you up when he thinks that he has let you go on for long enough and that he has collected enough evidence to prove his claims. The next morning, he will lovingly confront you with reality, regardless of whether or not you are nursing a hangover, after which you agree that maybe, sometimes, he might have a point.

Seungkwan

❀ Seungkwan is honestly one of the best people to get drunk around. Sure, he drinks himself, but the moment he notices that he is getting tipsy, he slows down his drinking. He has had to deal with the members being drunk so often that he has developed successful ways of dealing with drunk people, making him well-equipped to deal with you. The moment you sheepishly admit that you are slightly drunk when you two are having dinner with the members, he will do his famous drunk check, rubbing over your forehead, making you giggle uncontrollably, before concluding that, indeed, you are gone.

❀ The entire evening, he will treat you like a little kid, listening to your drunken ramblings and providing you with sassy and funny remarks in exchange. He loves that you are laughing even more at his jokes than usual, and he will not miss a chance to elicit another fit of laughter out of you by doing something stupid. Seungkwan is not above embarrassing himself as long as it means that you are entertained.

❀ Honestly, I can’t imagine Seungkwan letting you do anything embarrassing. He will make sure that you sober up a little, providing you with water every now and then, and talk you out of whatever stupid plan you were about to execute. The moment he spots you climbing onto the bar, ready to execute your and Hoshi’s well-choreographed but slightly ridiculous dance routine, he will expertly redirect your attention to something else, making you completely forget about what you were about to do. As funny as he knows it would be for you to embarrass yourself, he knows you would be mortified the next day when you find out what you did the previous night and is fully committed to preventing that from happening. He would never let you do anything you would regret sober.

❀ Still, if you refuse to listen to him or you manage to do something stupid when he is momentarily distracted, he would not let you live it down.

Vernon

❀ Similarly to Jun, he is highly amused by your drunken escapades, curious to see what you will do. Where Jun, however, will join you in your antics, Vernon will mostly observe you, laughing his chair-screeching laugh as he does. He is not going to interfere whatsoever and lets you do whatever comes to your drunken mind, highly amused by whatever you are doing. Unless you are doing something illegal or dangerous, he is letting you do whatever your drunken brain convinces you to do.

❀ Getting drunk around Vernon means providing him with an arsenal of slightly embarrassing pictures that will be stored for later use. His phone is in his hand the whole evening, and he will make sure to snap thousands of images of your intoxicated self as you pose for him. You completely forget about him taking the pictures until he starts using them as stickers and memes in your private chat. Most of his reactions to your messages are you pulling a weird face. It wouldn’t have been that bad if he hadn’t started using them in the Seventeen group chat and as his phone’s background.

❀ As Vernon doesn’t strike me as someone who drinks often, he wouldn’t really be much help in sobering you up and making sure you won’t have too bad of a headache in the morning. Instead of making sure you drink enough water and get enough sleep, he convinces you to stay up late to watch a movie with him, entertained by your drunken commentary throughout, most of which he records. Needless to say, when morning arrives, you wake up with a lot of regrets.

Dino/Chan

❀ Dino is the king of being drunk; the amount of stories this dude has where he is wasted and doing something questionable are too many to count. Of course, he will be drunk with you, and of course, you two will create the best, most amusing drunk story ever. He had tried so hard to take the punishment shots for you whenever you lost a drinking game, not wanting you to get too drunk, resulting in both of you being incredibly intoxicated and hyping the other up to do some questionable stuff. The members tried to supervise the both of you, but you managed to escape when they got distracted for merely a second.

❀ In retrospect, your memories are kind of hazy on what had actually happened that night. In flashes, you remember a couple of rich people inviting you guys along, a boat, a garden gnome and something about a museum. Somehow, at the end of the night, you two end up in a fancy hotel, holding a garden gnome under your arm, all expenses paid, with the staff congratulating you on your engagement as you sport a very cheap plastic ring on your ring finger.

❀ In the morning, the two of you are nursing massive hangovers, utterly confused about where you are and how you managed to get there. Dino sees the thirty-plus missed calls from the members, knowing he is in a world of trouble, and someone mysteriously saved under the name Bob the Magician. The ring is so tight around your finger that you barely manage to get it off. Still, neither of you is planning on leaving any time soon, enjoying the luxury hotel the next couple of days as you try to piece together what transpired that night after ensuring the members that you are not dead in a ditch somewhere.

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bippot · 4 months ago

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Cowboy & Piggy

Story Summary -> No, Adrian had not been crushing on his colleague. That's just, like, not true in the slightest. It's not as if the moment she became available, he said something he could never take back.

Tags -> Idiots in Love, Violence, Fluff, Fights, Butt Dialing, Break Ups, References to Supernatural (TV 2005), Identity Reveal, Co-workers, Self Confidence Issues, Punching

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Fennel Fields wasn't a good restaurant. It didn't have the funding franchise restaurants do, nor did it have the home grown passion of a family owned business. It just existed to make money for the boss, who wasn't even there most of the time.

The food was cheap and unhealthy and often covered in cheese so whoever was eating it was far more focused on that cheesy goodness rather than the fact that the meatballs tasted a fair bit like horse.

All of the employees were underpaid and underappreciated by their bosses, so why the hell did Adrian Chase work there? As of late, he'd been earning a steady income thanks to Task Force X so it wasn't a financial decision. It wasn't to conceal his identity either - if anything, he'd almost revealed his secret at Fennel Fields too many times to count.

Why, oh why, did he work a menial job with an awful wage when it mainly consisted of being ordered around and shouted at by customers and managers alike?

Well, he wouldn't get to see Y/N if he left.

The best part of his day was when she rushed through the double glass doors and, as soon as she looked up to find him standing at the counter, she'd do a little half smile and greet, "Hi Ade, how late am I today?" He'd check his watch and tell her the exact time, often adding a little comment like 'it's your new record', or 'not as late as yesterday', or 'you missed the bus, didn't you?'.

Adrian was down bad. He memorised her shifts whenever the rota was posted and swapped so she wouldn't have to go too long without his presence. It was stupid and a little stalkerish, but it kept him going.

Half - if not more than that - of all of his shifts were spent watching her with big puppy dog eyes, just admiring from across the room as she worked. It was pathetic, he knew that. And even if he didn't know that, their other coworkers were more than willing to point it out to him.

"Drooling over Y/N again?" Taylor jeered as he slapped Adrian on the back of the head to snap him out of the trance he'd been in ever since she started bending over a table to clean it.

Hey, she had a great ass! Was he supposed to not look? It's human nature to look.

"Ah, no. No, no, no, of course not. I wouldn't... I don't..." He spluttered helplessly, flustering himself into an even deeper blush at the implications. "We are just friends. Pals. Buddies. Y'know, all platonic and shit."

Taylor rolled his eyes. "Sure." He said sarcastically, unaware that Y/N had walked up to them at the moment he teased, "You're a lost cause, man. I'd give up. She'll never like you. You're, uh... you."

"That's not very nice."

Y/N gave Taylor a stare that told him exactly what she thought about his comment and turned to Adrian, placing her palm gently on his forearm as she assured him, "Any girl would be lucky to have you, cowboy."

He smiled shyly and nodded, feeling incredibly grateful for her words because they'd given him some kind of hope that the thought of them, yeah, maybe it wasn't so outlandish. She thought he was dateable. Maybe not dateable for her, but at least she saw enough qualities within him that she believed he had the ability to be dateable to someone.

And if he was cool enough in her eyes to get a nickname like 'cowboy', there must be someone else who thought the same and was available.

Though, the term had come from their first shift together when Adrian got so nervous meeting her and his mouth decided to talk about the movie 'Cowboys and Aliens' the entire time. By the end of the day, she may not have known his name, but she did know that Robert Downey Jr was originally set to be the lead but there were scheduling difficulties because he was filming on the 2nd Guy Richie Sherlock Holmes movie and had to be replaced by Daniel Craig.

The next time they worked together, Y/N tried to get Adrian's attention but couldn't since he'd never told her his name. So, she called out, "Cowboy guy!" and, surprisingly, Adrian turned around. He pointed to himself as if to say, 'Me?' and came running as soon as she nodded.

"You didn't tell me your name." She tilted his name tag so she could read it. "Adrian."

"That's me."

"That's you, cowboy."

That, as they say, is history. Not only did a hot girl give him a nickname but she continued to seek him out whenever the job got boring and she wanted someone to talk to. Or someone to ramble on and on about useless stuff at her. Adrian was that guy™️.

"Come on, Y/N. Don't give him false hope." Taylor remarked with a sly smile. "The girl he's drooling over is way, way out of his league."

Whatever Y/N had planned to do was cut short. She stopped in place.

"I didn't know you liked anyone." Her head tilted as she surveyed Adrian's entire flushing face. "I thought you told me everything?"

That was mostly true. Adrian did have a habit of spilling his guts to Y/N. So far, there had only been two things that he managed to keep under wraps - his secret identity and his secret crush - yet, every other thought he had, she had been told about it.

"I, uh, I.. I gotta keep some cards to close my chest." Adrian mumbled out , glancing away before continuing, "But, uh, it's okay, y'know. She doesn't like me like that."

Scoffing, Taylor confirmed, "No, she certainly doesn't." Y/N slapped his arm for being so rude so he was quick to justify himself by adding, "She's got a boyfriend, doesn't she, 'cowboy'?" and left the kitchen as quickly as he could.

As much as it killed him to say, yes, Y/N had a boyfriend. He was cool and handsome and a total dickhead. That wasn't Adrian's jealousy talking, Steve was just like all the jocks that had beat up Adrian in high school - all macho and womanising - and if he had to try to quantify how many times Steven had cheated on Y/N, Adrian wouldn't even begin to know what two digit number to guess.

Y/N sighed, "Oh, I'm sorry, that sucks. There's plenty more fish."

"Yeah... Maybe. I don't know." Adrian shrugged, trying to seem as nonchalant about it as he possibly could - he probably wasn't very convincing given that she was still looking at him with so much sympathy on her face - and he didn't feel like elaborating further. "How's Steve? Is he coming in today?"

The quick change of topic was noted by Y/N, yet she simply replied, "Nope!"

"Oh?"

"Told him not to. If you do see him though, tell me so I can hide."

"Why'd you wanna hide from your boyfriend?" he wondered out loud curiously, tilting his head as he examined her. Then, his eyes went wide as he realised what he'd said. "Shit, don't answer that. Unless you want to. It's up to you. Obviously. You can tell me if you want to. Not that you should. You can. I want to know. Not in, like, a creepy way, but in a 'I'm your friend and I'm here for you' way..."

He proceeded to spiral into a nervous ramble that over-explained everything and had at least 4 completely irrelevant tangents, none of which made any sense whatsoever, while Y/N stared at him in amusement. His words were coming out at a mile a minute and they just kept coming, and she had learnt that it was best if she just waited for his breath to run out.

His rants always went in a weird direction. And unlike other people, Y/N liked his weirdness. It was her favourite thing about him. Well, that and his dimples.

Or how easy it was for him to make her laugh.

Or that mole on his cheekbone.

Or the way he'd push up his glasses with his middle finger and forget that he was technically flipping her off, only to realise and purposefully flip her off playfully.

Or his biceps, which she hadn't seen often as he usually kept to baggier, unflattering clothes, but she had seen them once when a customer spilt their drink on her and she hadn't brought a spare top. Adrian had offered his cardigan to her, and she finally got a small glimpse of what he looked like underneath it. It's safe to say she was impressed.

Adrian was cute when he was rambling - he was always cute but especially so when his brain had no control over his mouth - so all Y/N could do was to beam at him and softly laugh every time he'd start to babble nonsense. After a few minutes, his breathing finally calmed down, he blinked twice, cleared his throat, took a few deep breaths, then looked up at her.

Thanks to his rant and how wildly he gestured, his glasses were slightly crooked on his nose. Y/N fingers hovered by his ears as she scrutinised his glasses and tilted them back into place and gently brushed her fingertips through the hair just above his ear so it wasn't so unruly.

Adrian swallowed thickly. It was an audible gulp that caught Y/N's attention and she met his eye. He seemed somewhat uncomfortable so Y/N was blurting out, "Sorry, cowboy. I should've asked before I did that. Consent and all, y'know?" to apologise and smooth things over.

"You can touch me whenever you want to."

Shit. That was a little too obvious. 'You can touch me whenever you want to'? That's what his mouth came up with? In his head, it sounded innocent enough, but as soon as it left his lips, he scrunched his eyes up in embarrassment.

That is not something you say to a girl with a boyfriend.

A blush came to Y/N's cheeks. She knew he was awkward and often said things without thinking before they came out. He hadn't intended that sentence to sound the way it did, she was aware, but there was a hint of hope that maybe, just maybe, he did mean it exactly as he said it.

"I'll, I'll be sure to remember that next time I invade your personal space," she joked with a sheepish smile.

All of a sudden, doing the washing up became very appealing to Adrian. He needed to be doing something, needed to have something to split his focus in order to remain in one piece. Any more slip ups with Y/N and he would become a mess. He made a big deal of turning the tap on and squidging far too much washing up liquid into the sink.

The sound of the rusty pipes and gushing water almost overwhelmed Y/N's voice as she uttered, "Steve and I, we, uh, broke up."

Adrian immediately switched off the tap. It took him a second to register what Y/N had said.

"What?"

"We broke up. I called it quits with him."

Boom. A bomb had been dropped. This was huge news. The biggest news ever. They had broken up. Like, officially. It wasn't everyday that something so great happened in Adrian's life, so he was ecstatic.

"Thank God!" he cheered, completely forgetting to put up any facade or pretend that he wasn't over the fucking moon.

Steve and Adrian hadn't been best of friends but in the limited interactions they had had, Adrian had been polite to her ex boyfriend. Y/N raised an eyebrow at her friend's display of excitement.

"I thought you two got along?"

"He was an asshole, Y/N! Seriously!" His grin was almost manic, and his hands shook as he clapped them together a few times. "You're so much better off without him."

"Hell yeah, I am!"

His happy mood was infecting Y/N. Before she'd been going back and forth on whether breaking up with Steve had been the right thing to do or not, but now, thanks to Adrian's support, she knew it was 100% the right choice. Yeah, they'd been together for a year or so and giving that up instead of working on it could be considered a waste but...

"He didn't deserve me. That cheating asshole didn't deserve a single minute, no, second of my time!"

At that, Adrian remembered one time when he caught her boyfriend ogling their coworker Jennifer, who had a very prominent chest. She was a provocative person. All her clothes were a little bit small and slutty - not that being a slutty was a bad thing since Adrian was a big advocate of women being sexually liberated and having the ability to fuck whoever they wanted to. Jennifer wasn't the problem, far from it.

The way Steve caught eye contact with him and gave him a look that screamed 'I'd hit that ass' turned Adrian's blood into pure fire. In his mind, Adrian couldn't fathom ever wanting to leer at other women when Y/N - his literal dream girl - was right beside him. Steve had a smoking hot 10/10 on his arm and still wanted to play the field.

Fuck that guy!

Still, it sucks to be cheated on. Despite the brave face Y/N was putting on, it still sucked to have your trust betrayed over and over and, as far as she knew, at least another 17 times again.

"I'm really sorry, dude," Adrian said, and meant it. He wanted to comfort her in some way but didn't know how without looking weird, so he just half heartedly pinched at her arm, trying his best at reassuring. Y/N let out a tiny chuckle. It wasn't as bright as usual but it was more than sufficient to reassure Adrian.

"Hey, it's all good. My plan now is to stay single until Mr Right comes knocking at the door."

"Yeah? That's a good plan," Adrian nodded eagerly. "He's around, I'm sure of it."

"I hope he is. I haven't had an orgasm in the past - Jesus, how long? - year, I would love one right about now," Y/N laughed. Then, her brain caught up with what she'd said. "Not that you needed to know that. That was TMI, wasn't it?"

Was it? Was it really too much information? Maybe it was a little private, sure, but it was information that Adrian wanted to know. Well, he didn't want her unsatisfied and unhappy, but he now knew that he was capable of something that Steve hadn't thought about doing in an entire calendar year.

"I could fuck you better than he ever could."

There was a level of confidence in Adrian's voice that Y/N had never heard before. Her mind briefly blanked out due to the shock of hearing such words come out of Adrian's lips, and thanks to her dazed state, he got the wrong idea. His shoulders slumped and his ears became bright ruby red.

"What?" she mumbled.

"What?" He parroted back, his voice raising into a panicked squeak. Maybe she hadn't heard him. At this moment in time, he wished she hadn't heard him. "I didn't say anything. Did you hear something? Could've been Jennifer. I think I heard her saying something like that the other day."

Y/N's imagination was going wild and every single image that popped up was appealing to her. It would be a lie if she tried to say that she hadn't thought about it before, that she hadn't thought about him before. He was so nice and cute and had big biceps and was one of the only reasons she stayed at her shitty paying job.

"I heard you, cowboy." His eyes shot to meet hers. "You finish at 6 today, right?" He nodded. "Are you doing anything after that?"

No fucking way! Jackpot! He grinned to himself and looked at his hands in the soapy water. He simply couldn't help it.

"I have a few errands to do."

She attempted to not sound as disappointed as she felt. "...Oh, maybe another day then."

"No! No, I mean, I'm totally free after 7. Once I do my shit, I'm, like, totally not doing anything so if you wanted to - only if you want to, seriously no pressure or anything - we could watch a movie or I have a bunch of video games we could play or, I don't know... do something together and hang out and stuff? Anything you want, really. If you'd like?"

He cringed at how desperate he sounded when he finished his sentence. The last thing he wanted to do was ruin his chances. Yet, Y/N wasn't dissuaded by his words at all. If anything, she was more than tempted.

"I'd really like that, Ade."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"...Okay. Cool, cool, cool, cool, cool. Very cool, very nice. I'll text you my address."

Time flew by as Adrian couldn't wait to finish work. They continued chatting as they worked, but both knew they were subconsciously focused on what would happen later that night. It was like some kind of gravitational pull that was making it difficult to keep them away from each other for more than a few minutes and it was driving both of them crazy.

6pm hit and Adrian was speeding to his 'errand'. He pulled up a few streets away, yanked on his Vigilante suit, and was stalking his way towards a suburban house. Steven had posted an image of him next to his car (that wasn't even particularly fancy, so why he showed it off like it was, Adrian didn't know) whilst outside this very house.

Be careful what you post, folks, or somebody might use your images to find where you live so they can beat you up.

Technically, cheating isn't illegal. But it is a sin - not that Adrian was religious in the slightest - and Adrian thought Y/N should have the world and this guy, this Steven, couldn't even provide her with basic human decency? Vigilante would be willing to expand his usual set of rules tonight. Steven deserved it.

Vigilante whistled to himself as he knocked and waited for Steven to appear. Once the asshole did open the door, Vigilante swung and hit him straight in the nose.

"What the fuck, man?" The bastard grabbed his nose to stop the bleeding and stared angrily up at Vigilante. "Vigilante does house calls now?"

"This ain't a house call. This is a message." Adrian paused for dramatic effect. "You're a cheating scumbag! I should chop your shrivelled dick off for being such an ungrateful cunt."

"Who sent you? Was it Tina?"

"Not Tina."

"Abby, then?"

"No."

"Liz?"

"Liz, no."

"Penny?"

"Dude, are you for real?"

"Emily A?"

"Jesus christ."

"Emily L?"

"OMG, you're the whoriest whore to ever whore!

Steven stood there, mouth opening and closing a few times before his pea brain managed to say, "No, you," and despite how lacklustre of a comeback that is, Steven seemed proud of himself.

It was quiet.

Then, because both of these men will ultimately try to solve everything with their fists, the boys lunged at each other. Steven had never been smart - he knew Vigilante was adept at hand to hand and had killed people before and still tried to fight the guy - so as he saw an opening, drove his fist into Vigilante's stomach. He was a beefy dude, so Adrian was aware that there was going to bruise there for a few days, but Vigilante had been in hundreds of fights. One blow to the stomach was not going to slow him down for long.

If anything, it urged Vigilante to be more vicious. With two quick punches - one to the groyne and another to the neck directly on his Adam's apple - Steven was crumpled on the ground in severe pain and having a hard time breathing.

"You hurt Y/N, you jackass!" Vigilante yelled, giving his reasoning away.

Shit. He hadn't meant to divulge that. He'd been so caught up in the moment that it slipped right out. And so, before anything else gave away snippets of his identity, Vigilante left the scene and rushed as fast as he possibly could back to his apartment building.

It was 6.56 when he finally got home. He had 4 minutes - well, probably around 9 because of her tendency to be late - and he spent most of that time throwing his suit off. Did he smell like he had just beaten somebody up? He didn't really have time for a shower but could give himself a quick wipedown, a whore bath of sorts.

The punch patch on his stomach was something he couldn't do anything about. He could hide it with his shirt for the time being. If things went well and there was some under the clothes type action, she'd definitely see it.

Would she care? Would she stay long enough to notice? The night would have to go either really good or really bad if it ended with him with his shirt off. In the best case scenario, they would make sweet, hot, passionate love and she'd become totally beguiled by his moves. Worst case scenario, a fire. Or a battle. Or a war. Or maybe she didn't like him that way, which would be crushing but he'd still pine from afar.

So, with the hope that he would be shirtless at some point tonight, Adrian began brainstorming excuses he could use. He'd never been a great liar but he had to try. Got headbutted by a baby goat? Nope, he doesn't look like the sort of guy who'd do well on a farm. Walked into a bookcase? Fuck, that made him look clumsy as shit (which he was) and clumsy is not sexy.

What if he told her the truth?

Would she believe him?

Three gentle knocks cut his workshopping short. Y/N was here. He took a deep breath, sprayed some cologne, and opened his front door.

"Hi."

"Hi," he said back, a crooked smile plastered onto his face. His heart was beating faster than a hummingbird. "C-come, come in."

She walked through the doorway and her eyes were immediately scanning his place as she slipped her shoes off. His apartment was mostly bare, apart from the geeky accoutrements littered here and there. There was a poster of Hellboy on the wall, his bookcase was filled with Dungeons and Dragons books - both guidebooks and the accompanying novelisations - he had multiple Critical Role figurines, and an old looking gun on a stand.

"Is that the colt from Supernatural?" Y/N asked, walking towards the revolver.

"Yup. Yeah, it is," he leaned against his desk and rested his elbow over the surface, "It's one of the ones they used in the show. I got it at an auction on eBay. Pretty awesome, huh?"

"So awesome!" She knelt down a bit to read the inscription on the gun stand and her eyes lit up a little when he casually lifted the gun up and handed it to her. Her fingers closed around it and gently touched the smooth, cold metal. "Do you like guns? Like regular ones?"

"Uh, yeah, I think they're pretty cool."

That was an understatement.

"Do you like gunslingers? Like, Dean? Or Percy de Rolo? Or Rambo, even?"

"I love Rambo!"

Something in Y/N's demeanour changed.

"What about Vigilante? Do you think he's cool?" she asked, trying not to sound too eager for the answer.

Adrian looked back at her. He felt nervous about all this before she'd asked that and now it had only increased. Y/N kept her eyes locked on Adrian, watching for any slight change in his face or body language as she twirled the gun between her hands.

"Vigilante? He's cool," Adrian replied carefully. He tried to sound nonchalant and casual like nothing happened but his voice cracked slightly upon saying his last word and he cursed himself out mentally. "Do you think Vigilante is cool?"

Y/N looked down at the gun. "Steven called me before I got here - I don't know why I picked up but I did - and he was screaming down the phone at me. He kept saying that I was such an asshole for telling Vigilante to beat him up, but I've never met Vigilante," she explained slowly, her brows furrowed a little as she frowned. "Steven was certain Vigilante said, 'You hurt Y/N, you jackass!'"

The walls felt as if they were closing in.

"Weird," Adrian commented dryly.

"Yeah, it is weird." Y/N put the colt back down on its stand. "I only told you about my breakup."

A pin drop could be heard. It was so silent for far too long. The silence was so thick that Adrian wondered whether or not time had stood still and they were frozen in the moment.

"Either you told a stranger my personal information -"

"No, no, I would never do that."

"So, if I only told you and you didn't tell anyone else..." Y/N trailed off as she got closer and closer to Adrian until he could feel the warmth of her breath on his cheeks. Her eyes flickered down to the hem of his shirt and her fingers soon followed.

Fuck. He couldn't breathe. He didn't want to breathe. His brain was going wild. His lungs couldn't keep up with its demands to keep inhaling air because every breath was so shallow. Every gasp was so sharp and desperate. Every intake was so painful. Everything was hurting. All Adrian wanted to do at that moment was run.

Run. Just fucking run.

He broke from her grasp and crossed the room. He couldn't bring himself to say anything. What was there to say? 'I put on hockey pads and beat up criminals when everyone else is sleeping'? That made him sound kinda insane.

"Adrian, I'm not going to tell anyone." She said softly, her tone completely devoid of judgement as she reached out so he'd come closer. "C'mere, please?"

Historically, he'd never been able to deny her and his streak wasn't going to end today. Though he was reluctant and slow to move, he let her take hold of his hand and was tugged closer and closer until the very tips of their socked toes were mere millimetres apart.

"You're doing good. Real good. Not that save the turtles corporate bullshit. There's a lot of bad people who slip through the cracks. And, yeah, maybe I'm not fully on board with all the murder and violence thingy going on but..." Y/N's hand came up to cradle his cheek and gently stroked it, "You help me sleep at night, did you know that? You're a good man and a great friend, so please don't pretend that you're some monster."

And with those final words, her soft lips found his and everything seemed to explode in sparks. It was like everything he'd ever imagined and more. He pulled her in by the waist as he deepened the kiss, his thumb drawing circles on her hip bone. Everything became a blur of sensation: her body, her hair, the scent of her perfume and the faint taste of cherry chapstick on her lips.

Before he knew what was happening, he'd lifted her in his arms and her legs were wrapped around his waist as he pressed her back against the nearest wall.

"I should've dumped him months ago," she muttered against his lips. Her breathing was ragged and he could feel her heart beating fast against his chest.

That sentiment was something said in his mind for the entirety of Y/N and Steve's relationship. They weren't a good fit. Literally everyone could see that. So, Adrian had to ask, "Why didn't you?" as he dragged his lips down her neck while his hand slid underneath her sweater and started roaming over the warm skin of hee lower back.

"Because..." Y/N breathed his name. "... I don't know. I genuinely don't know. He was obnoxious and lazy and I always imagined it was you whenever we got intimate -"

She stopped mid-sentence when Adrian groaned at her words. "Oh my God, that's so fucking hot," Adrian moaned, finding her pulse point and sucking directly on the skin there. She was like putty in his hands, completely unable to pull away even if she wanted to. Her eyes fluttered shut and she tilted her head back, giving him easier access to her neck.

"You wanna fuck me, yeah?" he felt the need to confirm.

Just because she was grinding herself onto him, her hips rolling off where he'd pinned her to on the wall and against Adrian's crotch, didn't necessarily mean she wanted to go all the way.

"Yeah, I wanna fuck you."

"Hell yeah, fuckin' sick."

If those hours in the gym were used to lift Y/N to his bedroom, then it was time well spent. They were a mess of tangled limbs and kisses; hands wandering freely as Adrian walked them to his room.

The bed creaked as Y/N was set down upon it, her head falling backward onto his pillow with a soft poof. Adrian climbed above her with a knee on either side of her hips.

"Hi," he beamed.

"Hi baby."

His face softened at the nickname and his lips formed into the widest smile his face was capable of, making him look as stupidly happy as he felt. With Y/N beneath him, everything just seemed perfect. Nothing was wrong with the world and the universe had agreed to give him the most almighty of wins.

He lowered his mouth to hers and kissed her deeply; tongue sweeping across her bottom lip and begging entrance without a second thought. Y/N eagerly opened her mouth for him, granting him permission as her legs widened to allow him to slot himself between them.

"Can you take this off? I wanna feel you," she urged, tugging at the bottom of his shirt. He complied, shrugging it off casually and throwing it somewhere, and was immediately bombarded with the feeling of Y/N's palm drifting down his abs. "Jesus christ! You're shredded, dude!"

Adrian got a smug little look on his face as he watched her explore every inch of his body. But, the way his eyes widened made her realise that he wasn't used to this. He wasn't used to people being nice to him and wanting to be around him. She could change that. She would change that.

"You're so hot." She ran her finger down his stomach and then along his navel, pausing momentarily to brush her fingers through his happy trail, before her hand continued its path even further down. "Do you want me to-"

"Fuck, do whatever you want to me."

Y/N could feel herself falling in love with him even more each minute. And she knew it would only get worse when undid his trousers to palm the bulge in his boxers, and he let out the most pitiful whine she'd ever heard. She laughed a little at the sound of it, kissing his bare shoulder briefly as her hand slid underneath his underwear and wrapped around him.

"Shit," he hissed, bucking up against her touch. He sounded desperate, and when she looked into his eyes, his pupils were dilated in arousal. His cheeks were splotches of red, his bottom lip hooked on his teeth, brows scrunched together, his chest moving dramatically and his gaze focused on the ceiling as he tried desperately to control himself as she jerked him off.

"Baby," she spoke lowly. "Look at me."

Slowly but surely, he tilted his head to focus on her, his green eyes meeting hers for a split second. She smiled and brought her free hand up to cup his cheek.

"Your eyes are so pretty, cowboy," Y/N cooed. "It's almost impossible for a girl to look away."

"I watch you all day," he began, his face scrunching up when he realised how stalkerish his rant had started. "I mean, whenever we're in the same room I can't help it. Part of me wants to make sure that you're safe and happy and comfortable, and the other part just can't resist. I'm a moth and you're the flame, y'know? You're bright and beautiful - you're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen - and I can't help myself."

Her hand stopped. His chest heaving for a completely different reason now.

"Do you mean that?" Y/N asked in disbelief.

The only answer Adrian could give was an exhale and a "Yeah".

That was the nicest thing anyone had ever said to her. And since it was so nice and she'd been in a relationship with a prick for so long, Y/N didn't know how to respond.

"Fuck, uh, forget I said that. I understand if -"

"Why would I want to forget?" she asked, surprising even herself with the firmness in her voice.

Adrian gave her one of those tight lipped smiles that he usually gave whenever people made fun of him at work and he just had to stand there and take it.

"You know, you're you," he eventually explained, sitting up and gesturing excitedly, his hands brushing up and down her body. Then, his voice quietened when he added, "And I'm just me."

"Adrian, 'just you' is my favourite thing in the world."

He blinked. Once. Twice. Three times. The gears in his mind were whirring furiously until his brain finally caught on to Y/N's words. In an instant, he was surging forward, kissing her hard and possessively with a vigour that left Y/N breathless. The smooch was long and hot and wonderful, and she wound her arms around his neck, holding him close as they continued to deepen their kiss.

When the need for air overwhelmed her and she had to break apart from him, they simply rested their foreheads together and giggled, both of their chests rising and falling rapidly as they struggled to catch their breaths. Adrian's thumb stroked her cheek and Y/N couldn't help but notice that he was watching her with such affection it made her heart flutter.

That's why she had no qualms urging, "Let's get naked." Adrian grinned wickedly at her suggestion, leaning down to place another searing kiss on her lips as his fingers fumbled with the zip of her trousers.

Soon, they were bare, sweating, and completely wiped out thanks to the rigorous activity they'd just participated in.

Y/N smiled crookedly at him as he flopped his weight onto her, burying his face into her neck as they got their breath back. Now things were a lot more peaceful and slower paced, Y/N could feel her phone poking into her back and wiggled it out from under her.

The pair cuddled together, neither one speaking or moving much for a few minutes. As he lay atop her, Y/N ran her hands lightly over the strong planes of Adrian's back, smiling at the soft sighs escaping from his lips.

"I gotta pee before I get a UTI." Y/N nudged Adrian's shoulder. "Where's the bathroom, cowboy?" He told her the directions and checked out her ass as she left the room.

He turned onto his back and began excitedly fist punching the air. "Fuck yeah, oh fuck yeah. Me and Y/N sitting in a tree K-I-S-S-I-N-G," he began to sing to himself, unable to keep in his glee any longer. And he was still smiling at the ceiling when Y/N slid underneath the duvet beside him.

"Do you wanna watch a movie?"

"Yeah."

"Sick, lemme find my glasses."

Before he could shoot his hand out and knock his lamp off the bedside table, Y/N lifted his glasses up and delicately placed them on his nose. "There we go. How do I look? Like a sweaty pig, right?" She joked, brushing her thumb along his jawline.

"The sexiest pig I've ever seen."

"How many sexy pigs have you seen?"

"So many," he playfully replied. "Peppa Pig is my dream woman."

"Not Mrs. Piggy? She's hot as hell."

"Too high maintenance."

To further the joke, he took his finger and gently pushed the tip of her nose up so it would look more like a snout. She couldn't help but laugh. Well, she thought it was going to be a laugh, but it actually came out as a snort.

Calling the girl he was hopelessly in love with a piggy was not where he thought his night was going to go. But, that's obviously his nickname for her now.

"See? My little piggy."

She gave him a half hearted slap on the bicep then snuggled into his side as lifted his laptop from under his bed and onto his lap. Adrian picked some campy horror movie and they barely paid attention to it since they alternated between makeout sessions and bouts of playful teasing.

An hour into the movie, Y/N's phone began to blow up with notifications.

Steven: Adrian?

Steven: You fucked that guy from work?

Steven: Slut

Steven: Absolute whore

Steven: Fucking 4eyes?

Steven: You fucked him?

Steven: Him? Of all people?

Steven: You fucking piece of shit

Steven: Tell me it's a joke

Steven: You're fucking with me

Steven: Baby, I know you didn't

Y/N: did you not hear me on the voicemail?

Y/N: I thought I made it very clear that I did.

Together, they laughed at all the messages that came through. Y/N eventually blocked Steven and closed that chapter of her life forever.

"That problem is solved," she reassured with a smug smile, earning a cheek kiss from Adrian.

He played with her fingers and wrongly declared, "If you think about it, we are the perfect pair. Me being a cowboy. You, a pig."

"How so?"

"Cowboys herd pigs. Duh."

Their romantic relationship officially started in hysterical laughter since Y/N cackled at his comment, and it would continue in the exact same way. They were devoted to not only each other, but making each other laugh, and from that moment on would ensure that their romance was fun and hot and exceedingly loving.

*Click here for my Adrian Chase masterlist, or here for the entire masterlist*

Wanna be added to a taglist? Either comment on this post or send me a message!

taglist: @kpopgirlbtssvt @adriansboyfriend

#adrian chase #vigilante #vigilante x reader #adrian chase x female reader #peacemaker #adrian chase x reader #adrian chase x y/n

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what-gs-watching · 18 days ago

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“You’re getting the fuck of a lifetime, tonight.”

OKAY friends. As we all well know by now, I am, and have been, utterly devoted to David Tennant in all forms for a long time. The man is incredible. He’s everything. He can do no wrong.

So I was obviously out of my mind excited about Rivals. Have I read the book? No. Should I probably have joined the GOAD subreddit book club to understand what I was getting into? Yeah, absolutely. But I did not.

Y’all. Does anyone else feel personally victimized by this show? Show of hands? No? Am I just a sensitive bitch right now? Fair.

I should have expected that David Tennant’s character was a true creep because I know he likes to mix it up, that’s on me, but I did not expect to feel so many WAYS about things. Wasn’t this supposed to be like a fun, sexy romp set in the 80’s wherein I could just shake my head at British people being british?

I really came into this show knowing basically nothing. I definitely need to stop doing that.

AKA, wherein a bunch of pompous Brits living in the Cotswolds fuck each other’s wives or husbands or neighbors or WHOEVER and fight over who should control the local television rights - David Tennant’s insanely charismatic and crazy manipulative Lord Tony Baddingham, or intrepid Irish interviewer Declan O’Hara and unlikely ally MP and former olympian Rupert Campbell-Black.

LISTEN, TV, don’t make comments on the difficulties of marriage and love and other things, directly into my face. I don’t like it. It makes me squirmy, and I hate you.

In the beginning, I really did not like Rupert and was yelling about him being a fucking creep, and I was letting Lord B off the hook for some of his weirder behavior but wooooof, what a journey those eight episodes take you on. I do appreciate character growth, or also, I guess, character…descent? Because Tony absolutely fucking unravels.

Something about absolute power corrupting absolutely?

Also, there are a ton of characters in this thing. And I’m obviously gonna fixate on Lord B but I have to be honest, Lizzie, neighbor to the O’Hara’s and wife of one of the tv personalities at Tony’s station, is my favorite part of this entire tapestry. She writes saucy novels and she’s underappreciated in her little life and she raises her kids and has an adorable best friend relationship with Rupert (which definitely helped me soften to him) and I connected with her way more than I should have.

She tries so hard to get her husband to pay her attention. She really wants to feel like he cares about her, that he thinks she’s worthy, and he never gives it to her. BUT then she meets Freddie, awkward tech magnate, and y’all. Their adorable, bumbling interactions are everything. He runs after a train when she leaves the chapters of her new book the train! He appreciates the hell out of her, and she does the same for him, because his wife is equally neglectful.

I don’t think I’ve ever rooted so hard for someone to have an affair in my life. She deserved to get absolutely everything she wanted. We all do. And I don’t appreciate being EXPOSED like that.

Anyway. We obviously can’t get into every single random storyline here, so we’re gonna hit the highlights, lightning round style.

I do really like Declan, and his relationship with his wife was interesting - she’s an actress so she’s always going to be dramatic but he seemed like he knew how to handle her, and I appreciated the passion they had together. I don’t love how they ended up, you can see he really does love her, but she doesn’t want to compete against his work for his affections. I get it. But like girl, you gotta give a little? But also, that shit is hard. Their relationship seemed like one of the realest, for sure.

What I could not bring myself to be okay with, was Taggie’s (Declan’s 20 year old daughter) feelings for Rupert. I’m sorry y’all, no. Like, sure, Rupert becomes more of a person throughout the show and I appreciate that and I get that he maybe hasn’t ever really loved anyone but I’m not gonna sign up for the love story between the two of them. And usually I’ll sign up for anything. But I just can’t, I’m not sure why. It just still feels predatory to me.

Will I eat those words if they make a season two? I suppose we shall see.

And now, Lord B. Tony-fucking-Baddingham. Foolishly at the start I was like, maybe he does care about his very typical, dowdy english wife. She looks very salt of the earth and sure it’s surprising she’s not young and hot but man, they seem to work well together, they get each other. What’s gonna go down here?

And then just kidding, he’s fucking Cameron Cook, the American female producer he hired to create amazing television for Corinium. Because of course he is. He does seem to think she really is brilliant, but he wants to control that and own it and he somehow convinces himself he loves her? But the man is a sociopath. And I spent like, the final three episodes yelling “GIRL, he’s gonna try to murder you, like for real tho…”

But then he does shit like dancing with her at a restaurant while crooning along to a stripped down version of “Love is a Battlefield” and I’m like, maybe he contains multitudes? But he doesn’t! There’s no fucking hesitation in any of the terrible shit he gets up to. That sweetness is purposeful. It’s gross and it’s mesmerizing.

Bless Georgia Tennant for convincing him to take this role. I hate it, and it’s wonderful.

Also, big fucking props to the way his proper wife lays down the law in the last episode. (Side rant: early on I was like ‘does he ever fuck his wife?’ and he does, and it’s so awkward, bless her. I get it babe, I really do). But she met her fucking limit and she didn’t shy away from it. We need more women standing up for themselves. Cameron does to a degree, but Monica is the true MVP in this mess.

I think the worst part about this show is that it ends abruptly, honestly. You don’t get a lot of closure, everything is still up in the air and there’s a serious fucking cliffhanger and now I’m just mad and weirdly turned on and again, feeling a lot of ways about things. It’s very “thanks, I hate it.”

Let’s be real, I showed up to this thing so I could ogle David Tennant in a new way. And I definitely got that - those fucking cigars! And the suits! That gorgeous, predatory smile! But I also got a lot more. I’m infuriated and confused and I need season two immediately.

After all, Lord B did promise that he’d continue to make television we want. And even if he’s a horrible, terrible bastard, I’m gonna believe that.

Bonkbuster indeed.

#what g's watching #rivals #david tennant #rivals spoilers #tony baddingham #declan o'hara #rupert campbell black #cameron cook

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heretherebedork · 1 month ago

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Mirror mirror on the wall,who are the top 5 greenest flags of them all? (Thai edition)

Okay. So, Thai green flags? Top Five? Let me give this a moment's thought... I'm not sure this will fully be my top top five because, frankly, I have watched too many BLs.

God from Monster Next Door is still gonna top this list. He is working hard to maintain his spot despite some struggles this last week with communication. But he has not hesitated to be good this entire time and I believe in the power of communication.

Fueang from City of Stars never wavered in his green flag nature and he feels very underappreciated for how well he did with communicating, staying honest and even coming out to the press to keep his relationship and to be able to be himself even at the detriment of his career.

Tan from We Are is the greenest green flag to ever exist. Look at this adorable man! He was always there for his boyfriend, always ready to love, always ready to support and listen and reassure. Just the best boy.

Yak from Wandee Goodday just has to be here because he put up with so much from so many people and still never strayed or wavered from his goal of just being the biggest sweetheart in the entire world and so in love it hurt.

Mork from My Ride can never be forgotten, frankly. The sweetest boy who did his best and never wavered and supported his doctor through everything and simply kept on loving him thanks to good advice from his gay uncles.

Honorable Mention (because I always think of him)

King turned out to just be a green flag despite everything going on in that show and all the fears and every chance he had to do something wrong turned into another chance at communication and another moment to support Uea to the best of his ability. Didn't always go perfectly but he did his honest best.

I really liked @absolutebl's Rules of Green Flag

respectful: no dubious consent, takes no for an answer and stops, alcohol is not an excuse,

honest: depicted demonstrating good communication - verbal, emotional, physical

safe: practices safe sex

decent: no violations (emotional, ethical, moral, sexual, cultural, or ya know legal) like breaking into his fucking hotel room

dependable: I'd be fine if my nibbling were trapped in an elevator with him

kind: forthright and not inclined to be manipulative

All very important!

Also, yes, I picked five that were from my top favorite shows that were also green flag material, so sue me.

#green flag #thai bl #thai drama #asked and answered #monster next door #my ride the series #we are #we are the series #city of stars

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yurozo · 2 months ago

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what could have been (chris redfield oneshot)

description: chris made the biggest mistake of his life letting you walk out of it, and he's determined to make it right this time.

a/n: there really isn't enough fanfic about chris redfield and i am more than determined to change that. this man is sooo underappreciated. about: gn!reader/little physical description/no use of y/n. fluff, with very minor angsts, and a few mentions of in-canon violence.

it was an unsettling thing to walk away from you. but that was the way it always worked— you went one way while he went the other. a research laboratory on the other side of the city beckoned you over, studying accessible cures to viruses that chris had dedicated his life to eradicating. ever intertwined, despite the miles between you at all times.

on the other hand, chris spent his time travelling from place to place, never truly settling in washington due to the unbidden fear of having to leave it again. familiarity was a privilege unbeknownst to him, the mortal atlas condemned to carrying the world on his shoulders. he could at least enjoy knowing that if you ever needed a place, you would know where it was. and despite everything, he was rather proud of the way he matured. he was more fit than he was back in s.t.a.r.s- not entirely of his own accord, mind you- and eons more responsible.

watching every person you've ever cared about lose that twinkle in their eye did that to people.

and he didn't hate his job, contrary to popular belief. founding the b.s.a.a is among his crowning achievements, and allowed him to enact some real change. along with paying him a decent salary.

he supposed, bioweapons notwithstanding, that adulthood had changed him. long gone is the foul-mouthed air force pilot, and in its place stood a true soldier. safe and solid, protecting and proud. it was more so the person he imagined you would be into, someone dependable that could protect you if the need arose. truth be told, everything he did back in the s.t.a.r.s was with a side glance in your direction, desperately hoping you were watching him the same way he was secretly watching you.

the two of you kept minimal contact throughout the years, limited to the occasional 'how are you' and 'work's been good'. you always let him know of any major life changes, and he always contacted you after a mission, however brief, to sate your anxieties of whether or not to look for his name in an obituary. you pointedly never mentioned your dating life, but the very thought of someone vying for your attention made chris a little sick to his stomach.

call him possessive, call him crazy, for helplessly pining for a girl who was just slightly nicer to him than everyone else at the police department. what he did know is that the only suppression to that boiling feeling in his gut was the unbridled joy that filled him whenever he saw your contact name show up in his notifications. an indicator that you thought of him, however briefly.

in some parallel universe, he would be standing outside your balcony playing some queen song with terrible audio on an even shittier boombox, and you would be awed and wooed by his grand romantic gesture. you would run down from the balcony and plant one on him, and he would swing you around in his arms and there would be nothing but the two of you. no bioweapons, no blood staining his hands, no nightmares about finding you dead in the middle of a ruined city. but he lived in this world, where he was too old and too tired to indulge in those fantasies.

he was a man. he was also a soldier, and therefore, a realist.

so, when you texted him about being in the washington area and wanting to meet up for a day, chris had spent two days drawing three viable conclusions.

1.) this was an elaborate dream made up by a combat-addled mind to live out some younger, unbridled fantasy of his,

2.) this was a cruel prank by some twisted fuck that somehow knew how much he clung to you over the years,

3.) the final, and least likely conclusion: that there was some part of you that missed him as much as he missed you.

he wants to cross the third one off by instinct, but something in his heart adamantly refuses. that sparkling hope in his chest is something he's not particularly looking to stamp out just yet, so he chooses to simply let it burn until it probably would just consume him entirely. by the time he reaches the bar you both agreed on meeting at, he's been so wrapped up in determining your motivations that he's caught entirely unprepared by the sight of you.

you were sitting there, chin in your hands as you mindlessly tapped on the glass in front of you. probably waiting for a while, given your propensity for being unbearably early to social gatherings. you always did have a distaste for tardiness, even if chris was technically five minutes early. the same endearing furrow in your brow makes chris falter in his steps, taking a moment to truly absorb you for the first time in years.

fuck, you were gorgeous. the kind that had other tripping over themselves just to bask in your presence. hell, chris was one of them. always had been.

that same simmering boil of jealousy that used to arise every time that he watched some civilian lean over the reception desk, speaking to you in hushed tones as they preened in your attention, sparks to a roaring fire. he has to remind himself that things are different now; you had lived a whole other life without him, and he's had to learn to survive without you.

he briefly entertains the thought that his absence affected you in the same way. this gnawing feeling that something vital to his very being was lost somewhere in the wreckage of raccoon city.

your face had matured over the years too— jaw set a little sharper, eyes a little duller, the faint lines of age beginning to appear on your skin. you're still gazing somewhere far away by the time he musters up the courage to approach the table, hesitant like you'll reach over the table and sink your teeth into his arm like a-

no. bad chris. no talking shop here.

you don't seem to notice him as he approaches, still staring down at the table like it will speak to you if you glare at it long enough.

"seem lost in thought." chris gives you the most dazzling smile he can muster, full of charm eased by age. while his body language is casual as he slides into the booth next to you, his mind has gone blissfully blank.

your thigh is touching his. oh god, you're wrapping your arms around him before he can think of something suave to say. your action is immediately reciprocated by strong arms pulling you closer, tucking you into his chest like he wants you to live in it forever.

god, he fucking missed this. seeing you, touching you with a familiarity he thought was long lost.

"i missed you," you murmur, letting your cheek smush into his collarbone.

"missed you too," he laughs, bright and warm. all the tension from his job immediately eases in your hold, and he lets himself squeeze you tighter and tighter, like a serpent desperately trying to stay out of the damnation of hell.

"jesus, chris. you got huge."

chris frowns as you pull back from him and start squeezing his arms appreciatively. he has no choice but to let you manhandle him, silently relishing in the way your eyes trace across the contours of his body. he is proud of it, even if he hates the reason why he felt the need to train this much in the first place.

the only way to stop wesker, to try and make the fight on level terms. he never told you about that either, keeping the details concise, knowing that you would have gotten on the first place to washington if you heard his plans of hunting their former boss. you had once admired the captain the same way chris did, and the knowledge of what had to happen would have crushed you.

that shoulder of burden can lay squarely on him.

"you know how it is," he answers instead, taking a sip from your glass. something sugary and way too sweet for his taste. "work never stops."

"tell me about it." the glass is then swapped to your hands. "i'm pretty sure i've huffed enough chemicals to send me to an early grave."

if anyone is going to rot eight feet below the earth soon, he thinks, it's most definitely not going to be you. he's been running from that ticking clock for far too many years.

"but you do good work." he grins, waving down a bartender and ordering a simple whiskey. on the rocks, top shelf, because he's a classy guy.

"we do good work." you remind him.

"fine." he concedes, hunching slightly over the table. "we're both patron saints."

a bright smile is what he gets in response, one that has his heart stuttering and tripping over in his chest. he can't help but give you a slightly goofy one in return. everything feels like as it should be. you're here, alive, and he is here, slightly less alive but feeling like he's finally able to breathe.

—

in retrospect, three-drink chris was probably not the best choice for tonight. one-drink chris is a little chattier than usual, but still relatively normal. two-drink chris loves music, always tapping his feet or bobbing his head to whatever song is playing. and three-drink chris might just be the most impulsive person on the planet.

the entire time you drive him home, which you insist on, chris has his head turned to you with the most obviously love-struck look in his eyes. the entire world around him seems to dull to a faint hum, instead focusing on that frustrating smile of yours as you recount some time that a coworker of yours accidentally put whatever chemical in something solution, causing a lab-wide evacuation.

like he said, impulsive. no more little voice in his head warning him to be subtle.

no more voices in his head screaming the songs of the damned.

he's honestly only half-listening. and only half-paying attention it seems, because you give him a questioning look when the car pulls into his driveway and he makes no move to get out. a nervous laugh escapes him then, breaking the awkward silence in your car like a clap of thunder.

"this was nice," you say eventually, lips upturned in a sort of half-smile. endearing, even cute.

"it was," he nods, trying desperately to keep this moment going as long as it can. just the thought of leaving you again after spending years drowning in the emptiness gives him a headache. chris spent enough time dawdling around like an idiot, going so far as to refuse to change phone numbers in the small chance you would never contact him again.

you're picking at your nails during his internal monologue, that same worried pinch forming between your brows. you're, once again, the one to break the silence. "chris, i-"

his lips are on yours then. thick hands curled around your neck, keeping you in place for one second, then two, then three.

his eyes are still squeezed shut when he pulls away.

"fuck," he whispers, jolting back like you had slapped him. "i'm sorry, i just have wanted to do that for a while, and i couldn't let you go away again without doing something."

"chris."

"i know it was stupid, and impulsive," he keeps going, purposefully avoiding eye contact. "i didn't mean to make you uncomfortable, i just-

"chris," the stern tone of your voice is enough to make him stop mid-ramble, peering up at you hopefully. you only laugh in response, before raising your hand to the nape of his neck. his hair is longer than you remember it being. just another way he's changed.

"yeah." he sighs, defeated. just another part of his life that he's royally fucked up. another friend he's going to lose, and this time it's not to circumstances out of his control. not because of bloodshed or shitty calls. this one is purely on him, because he really does lose all sense around you.

instead of slapping him, or yelling at him, like he expects you to— you take pity on him. "are you going to shut the hell up and kiss me?"

there's another long stretch of silence then, the only sign that chris even heard you is the glimmer of hope twinkling in his eye.

"fuck yeah, i am." he smiles, before pulling you into him again.

#chris you mean the absolute world to me #i want to rub his back and tuck him into bed with a lil forehead kiss #one forehead smooch anyone who can list motifs or references #chris redfield x reader #chris redfield imagine #chris redfield fanfiction #chris redfield #resident evil #resident evil imagines #resident evil fanfiction #resident evil 5 #ali writes

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vodika-vibes · 16 days ago

Note

as a hurt/comfort and general Whump enthusiast I pounced on that prompt list you shared like a cat chasing a mouse... anyways🤣

was thinking “it’s okay, show me?” And“deep breath, I have you,” with maybe Echo?

I know he’s a member of the bad batch but I still feel like he’s always deserving of more content and is underappreciated

if that’s not rare enough for you, you could also do Waxer😊💛

Gentle Touch

Summary: Knowing that Echo is alive, and actually seeing it are two different things. But the man you love seems unwilling to have anything to do with you. Even going so far as to block your comm code. So when you’re kidnapped by Organ Harvesters you know that no one is coming to save you.

Pairing: TBB Echo x F!Reader

Word Count: 2365

Warnings: Reader was kidnapped by organ harvesters, death, angst with a happy-ish ending (I'm so sorry)

A/N: I...have no excuse and no explanation. I hope you like it, and if you see any typos it's because I typed it without my glasses on.

Click HERE to be added to my taglist

Your entire body throbs in time with your heartbeat as you stumble down the frigid corridor, your hand pressed against the wall both for support and to guide you.

Echo once told you that the best way to find the exit in a maze is to keep one hand on a wall at all times. You’re not sure if you’re in a maze, but since you’re having a hard time focusing, you figure that the advice might as well be put to good use.

You wish you remembered how you got in this situation.

You remember leaving work, you were going to go to the club with some of your coworkers for the usual meet-up before the weekend. The new girl had been so excited to be invited. You remember her saying that her husband offered to watch their twins so she could have a night out.

Something must have happened at the club.

The last thing you remember is taking a sip of something blue at the club while laughing at a joke that the bartender cracked. Then you were here.

You woke up on a blanket on the ground, clad in your panties and the camisole you wear under your work clothes. Your shoes, jewelry, and everything else you had been wearing hadn’t been anywhere you could see them.

And you weren’t alone.

Yazmin, the new girl from work, had been stretched out on a blanket next to you…but no matter how much you shook her, she wouldn’t stir.

It wasn’t until you rolled her that you realized that she was dead.

You shudder and wrap your free arm around your stomach, to try and comfort yourself.

Since then, you’ve been walking, trying to find a way out of this building.

The place seems deserted, but you know it can’t be. Because every time you come to a new room, there are more bodies. Of every species imaginable.

Your immediate conclusion, that you had been kidnapped to be sold into slavery, has long since morphed into something far, far worse. You were kidnapped by Organ Harvesters.

Slavery would almost be better.

Almost.

You follow the wall around a corner and sigh softly as you realize it’s a dead end. A part of you, a part that’s growing larger by the minute, wishes that you were still in contact with Echo.

He’d come looking for you.

Well. He would if he still loved you. Or liked you.

You stop walking and slide down the wall to sit on the frigid floor, needing to rest your body. You feel awful.

But now that you’re not moving, you have time to think.

And that’s been your worst enemy for the better part of two years now.

Echo’s death destroyed you.

You couldn’t imagine living in a galaxy without Echo, and yet you persevered. You went to work, you spent time with your friends and family, and all the while it felt like there was a guillotine hanging over your head.

Then Echo came back. Injured, but alive.

And somehow your nightmare got worse.

Because he wouldn’t talk to you. Wouldn’t look at you. And any message you sent was ignored or deleted until you woke up one morning and found out that he had blocked you on everything.

You don’t even know what you did wrong.

But it must have been pretty bad for him to hate you so much.

You pull your knees to your chest and rest your cheek on them, turning your attention to the dimly lit hallway that you have to get back to soon.

Then something on the floor catches your attention.

Little dark red droplets.

Blood. A small voice in the back of your head offers, dispassionately. It sounds like Kix. You miss Kix. You’re bleeding. Kix’s voice continues.

That explains the pain, you suppose.

Slowly you stand and focus your gaze on the smear of blood on the wall where you were just sitting.

It looks like something you’d see in a horror movie. For some reason, the thought is hilarious as a short laugh slips from your numb lips.

You need to keep moving. If you stop moving you die. Echo’s voice whispers in your ear.

Too bad Echo won’t care if you die.

Although, he does sound worried, so maybe you’ll keep moving. Just to keep him from worrying too much.

Slowly, you start walking again, your feet feeling like lead.

You’ll just walk a little more. Just a little further. Just to keep Echo from worrying about you.

You don’t know how long you’ve been walking. It feels like it’s been hours, though it might have just been minutes. You’re aware enough, for the moment, to know that you’re suffering from blood loss.

And probably the loss of other things.

The thought is hilarious, but you manage to smother your laughter. This is probably a good thing because you’re standing in the doorway to a room full of people who look like doctors.

“That’s one of the subjects, isn’t it?” An old man asks.

“Yes sir,” A young woman replies, “We hadn’t done the removal yet, since there was the issue in the twi’lek room. I had the doctor sew up her back so she wouldn’t bleed to death before the harvest. I see now that that was a mistake.”

“Indeed.” The old man lifts a hand, “Kill her.”

Its probably the blood loss, but you feel strangely calm for someone who’s about to die.

And then a memory swims to the forefront of your mind.

“Hold it like this, cyare,” Echo’s voice has a laugh in it, “And bring it back by your ear, aim, and throw!”

The knife your holding hits the target in the center, and Echo spins you into a tight hug.

“You did it!”

“Why do I need to learn how to do this, Echo?” You ask as he kisses your cheek and then sets you down to collect the knives.

“You never know when you might need to know this.”

“Yeah, but most people have blasters.”

“I’m gonna let you in on a little secret,” Echo says as he returns to your side, “15 feet.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Even with your skill level, if you’re within 15 feet and have a knife, you win that fight.” He offers you a blade again, “Again.”

You had forgotten about that lesson, Echo never mentioned it again after that day.

The problem is, you don’t have a knife.

You take half a step back and bump into the counter. Your gaze flickers across the counter, looking for something, anything, you can use to defend yourself.

There.

Sitting in a plastic tub are dozens of scalpels. You pull the tub closer to you and carefully pull a scalpel out of the water.

It’s not a dagger, it’s not weighted for combat, but a blade is a blade, right?

You draw the blade back and fling it just like you remember Echo showing you.

The scalpel, as it happens, is sharper than the average hunting knife. You’re not the only one shocked when the blade hits exactly what you’re aiming at and pierces through your attacker's throat.

He crumples, but you know that he died the moment the blade pierced his throat.

The room falls silent and, much to your surprise, the people who were about to kill you are backing away from you. And not just them, either. The two people who planned this whole thing seem to be backing away nervously too.

Maybe…no one’s ever fought back before?

Well, you’re glad for it. You’re not sure you’re going to be able to stand for much longer.

The next thing you know, the group of people are fleeing up the staircase behind them.

But the moment they’re out of sight, you collapse to the floor, the pain and blood loss finally too much to bear.

Only moments later, though, there’s the sound of gunfire above you. The blaster fire doesn’t continue for long, and you wonder who won the fight.

You hope it wasn’t the organ harvesters.

Light appears at the top of the stairs, and heavy steps hurry down the concrete.

You no longer have the energy to lift your head, but a very familiar-looking pair of boots stops in front of you. A gloved hand reaches out to grip your chin and tilt your head back, you don’t even have the energy to try and pull your head away.

Echo peers down at you, concern and guilt warring for control of his features.

“You can’t be here,” You’re slurring your words, your tongue feels like it’s made of sawdust.

His scomp settles on your bare shoulder, “Why can’t I be here, cyare?” Echo asks.

Oh good, an easy question.

“Echo hates me,” Your answer is matter-of-fact, even through your slurred words.

He winces, “I…” Echo trails off and then he presses his hand against your cheek and offers a small smile, “I know you’re badly injured. It’s okay,” His voice is somehow softer, more soothing, “Show me?”

Slowly, because you’re not sure if you can do anything fast anymore, you lean forward and press your forehead against his shoulder. You hear his sharp inhale, and you hear his call for a medic.

Your vision is starting to go grey, but that’s alright because help is here, apparently.

“I wish,” You mumble against Echo’s shoulder, “I wish I knew what I did to make him hate me so much.”

The last thing you hear before you let darkness claim you is a faint call of your name and a plea to stay awake.

“She’s alive.”

Echo pauses midstep, nods once, and then continues his rapid pacing.

Rex folds his arms and leans against the wall, “She lost a lot of blood, but she still have all of her organs. Which is a miracle, seeing as she was with them for over a week.”

Echo’s jaw clenches, and his hand curls into a fist.

“Seems like they bit off more than they can chew,” Rex continues.

Echo finally stops pacing, “How many people did they kill?”

“There were over 50 bodies down there,” Rex says, “But there were organs from a lot more people than that.” He steps away from the wall and lightly clasps Echo’s shoulder, “She’s going to be fine, Echo.”

“She thinks I hate her.”

“Well,”

“Rex!”

“What was she supposed to think, Echo? You wouldn’t look at her, wouldn’t talk to her, and blocked her without so much as saying a word.” Rex counters, “Of course she thinks you hate her! I would think that too!”

“I was just…I wanted her to be safe.” Echo says with a sigh.

“Well, that worked out swimmingly, didn’t it?”

“I thought you were here to help?”

“I am here to help. Sometimes my help comes in the form of calling you a dumbass.” Rex points out, “Which I’ve said to you. Repeatedly.”

Echo opens his mouth to say something sharply, only to pause when the medic steps out of his cyare’s room, “She’s waking up. I assume one of you want to be with her?”

“He does,” Rex says cheerfully as he shoves Echo toward the room, “I have work to do.” He glances at Echo and points at him, “Don’t fuck this up again, Echo.”

The last thing Echo wants to do is go into her room. He doesn’t want her to see him like this, more machine than man. But Rex is gone, and the Medic is staring at him, impatiently. So he follows him into her room.

He takes a seat at her bedside, watching her sleep.

She looks the same. The same freckles, the same birthmark, the same curl in her hair that falls in her eyes.

Echo finds himself falling in love with her all over again. Which is why he didn’t want to see her in the first place.

A soft groan reaches his ears, and his gaze snaps to her face. Slowly her eyes flutter open, revealing her pretty eyes to him.

Confusion quickly morphs into terror, her heart monitor starts going crazing, her breathing quickens, and Echo swears as he jumps to his feet to keep her from pulling out her IVs.

They should have figured she’d react like this.

He calls her name, his hand pressing firmly against her cheek, forcing her to look at him. She freezes as her gaze locks with his, which is exactly the reaction Echo was hoping she’d have.

“Deep breath, cyare.” Echo orders, his tone brokering no argument. Then his voice softens when she immediately does as he asks, “I have you.”

Her hand comes up to frantically clutch at his hand, “Echo?”

“Yeah, it's me, I’m here.”

“But—” Her gaze frantically searches his face, “You hate me.”

“Never. I could never hate you.”

“But…but you…”

“I’m an idiot.” Echo interrupts, “Rex told me that Fives was dead, and I decided to run away from everything that made me happy. I told myself you’d be better off without someone like me.”

“Why would you think that?”

“I’m not the same Echo you knew before,” He holds up his scomp, “If you looked at me like I looked at myself those first days…” He trails off.

“Do you really think I’m so shallow?”

“No. No, never.” Her heart monitor is still racing, so Echo sits on the side of the bed, “You need to calm down. You’re still recovering.”

“I can’t be here, I have to go somewhere else, I—”

“Listen to me, cyare. This place is filled with clones and other former members of the GAR. None of us are going to let anyone hurt you.” Echo lightly strokes her cheek, “but, you have to stay here. Just until you’re healed.”

“I—”

“I’m not going anywhere, cyare. Not this time. I promise.”

Echo knows that he has a lot to make up for, and he knows that she’s going to be in a foul temper once she’s not in the hospital. He also knows that he deserves every bit of her ire.

But he’ll take whatever punishment she decides on. She’s worth it.

He’s fucked up with her enough.

@imabeautifulbutterfly

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@mira-loves-star-wars

@tiredbi-peach

@dukeoftheblackstar

@trixie2023

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@falconfeather23435

@etod

@bb8-99

@kiss-anon

@continous-mistakes

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@maniacalbooper

#star wars #tbb #tbb echo x reader #echo x reader #star wars fanfiction #x reader fanfiction #f!reader fic #answered asks

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vibratingskull · 4 days ago

Note

Hello, hello. I am obsessed with your stories .

I would like to ask you to write a Thrawn x f!reader . Thrawn is in love with the reader, and she refuses him. but she is actually very much in love with him. She believes she would never come first for him and that even she will be expendable to him should it come to that. Which is why she refused him.

Thank you my dear ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️ I am sorry for the delay

Thrawn x F!reader

tags : misunderstanding, heart to heart, love confession, (kinda?)hurt/comfort

Your heart is pounding.

Peacefully seated at his desk, Grand Admiral Thrawn analyzes your latest work. You worked your ass off on these data, crossing all of those dates, GPS coordinates, vids information, and alien propaganda speeches to FINALLY locate the hideouts of those rebels! But you fucking did it!

You’re not the Chimaera’s Commander for nothing!

You were so much lower on your latest ship, underestimated and underappreciated. You made one singular mistake in the entirety of your career! And it earned you a transfer to the Chimaera, under then Vice Admiral Thrawn’s command, where a lot of the outcasts of the Navy ended up. A sign of shame and failure, being put under the only Alien of the Navy was worse than being demoted or laid off for some.

But very quickly

The tendance shifted.

Thrawn has a natural talent : to find and refine others’ strengths, like a jeweler carefully polishes a precious gemstone. People who were judged useless under others’ orders suddenly started to flourish and gave good results, incredibly good results even ! Their enthusiasm and motivation crushed at their former posts reappeared, stronger than ever !

Thrawn took the losers he was given, nurtured their strong suits, and turned them into one of the most efficient crews the Empire ever had !

Commodore Faro and you were prime examples of Thrawn’s strong management talent and leadership. Diminished on other ships, unstoppable on the Chimaera !

And when Thrawn reached the rank of Grand Admiral in the record time of a single decade, all the snake tongues were forced to recognize his undeniable success and tactical genius. As they always should have!

All those factors now make the Chimaera the most requested ship by ensigns and Navy workers of any field. From soldier to machinist, data scientist to engineer, to officer, all come knocking at Thrawn’s door to be part of the crew that will make History with a big H !

And you are one of them. Welcomed and guided by the Man himself you are part of his core team, his strongest supporter and follower. You are part of the Chimaera’s crew as you are part of a family, under Thrawn’s wise guidance.

And…

If you are honest with yourself and look at the bottom of your soul, the worryingly strong and fast beating of your heart might not just be because of the stress of having your work reviewed by a superior.

But because of something else entirely...

Something taboo, that should not exist between a Grand Admiral and his Commander of any respectable fleet.

But you just cannot calm down your heart when you cross gaze with his shining rubies, you cannot help your blood rushing to your cheeks, the slight wobbliness of your legs, the air getting stuck in your throat when you have to speak to him.

‘’Very good, Commander (Y/n). A remarkable job of investigation in a record time !’’ Thrawn finally declares, looking at you with a satisfied little grin, ‘’You can be proud of yourself.’’

‘’Thank you Grand Admiral.’’ You slightly bow your head to him with respect, ‘’Some data scientists did a wonderful job gathering all of that information, I would not have done it without their efforts.’’

‘’You will need to give me their name, so I can keep a closer tab on them.’’ He slowly nods in approval.

‘’I will make you a list, Sir.’’

‘’Did anyone else caught your eyes ?’’

‘’Sir ?’’ You demand, ‘’Is it not Commodore Faro’s prerogative ?’’

‘’It is. It is also the prerogative of any of my officers I estimate. I value your opinion and judgment more than some of my fellow Grand Admirals, if you notice someone’s good work getting unappreciated I want you to come to me.’’

‘’Sir, I think you have no trouble noticing it yourself.’’ You cannot help but chuckle.

He keeps looking at you, a tight satisfied grin on his lips, soft and found. His eyes seem to shine brighter.

‘’What?’’ You ask before his insisting gaze, still shaken by your laugh.

‘’Nothing. I simply enjoy hearing your laugh. It is such a delectable sound, it alleviates my stress and appeases my mind.’’ He tilts his head, focused on you.

Your smile falters and the laugh dies down immediately. You close back on yourself, pressing your datapad against your chest.

You cannot permit yourself such things...

‘’With your permission, sir, I will take my leave.’’ You say, recovering your detached and professional tone, cutting short the conversation.

His shoulders ever so lightly lower down and his smile disappears, like he is... Disappointed. But his expression remains unshakable.

‘’Of course, Commander. You may go, I wish you a peaceful and restful sleep.’’

You curtly nod, murmur a ‘you too, Sir’ so low you wonder he even heard it, and exit the large office rapidly. You walk swiftly in the long and bright corridors of the Chimaera, a maze you know by heart.

A maze you now call home.

Your datapad pressed against your breast as to hide your sprinting heart from anyone who might cross your path you walk straight and fast, head raised high but gaze low on the floor. You gulp with difficulty trying to order your boiling mind.

Grand Admiral Thrawn is nothing but professional, courteous, and polite. He never makes any crass comments of any kind or insinuations, the only compliments leaving his lips are praises for a work well done or a cunning attitude.

That is all!

Except for you.

It has been several months now since he started to casually compliment you on... Anything really. He always found a little something to compliment you over every day.

Always respectful and within the bounds of morality.

He started as with anyone else, a ‘Good work’ here, a ‘Pertinent observation’ there, a ‘successful mission.’ sprinkled in.

And one day it was ‘This new hair style compliment your features wonderfully.’ Out of the blue and with no warning. He said it casually, with his usual nonchalance and detachment, and you simply assumed he was in an exceptionally good mood to compliment someone for something so mundane and out of his usual zone of comfort.

But this is highly unusual behavior for him!

You never heard him compliment anyone’s hairstyle, choice of blush, or capacity to keep their uniform clean. But he started doing it for you. A little one every day, a constant stream of praise day by day...

And if you brushed it off the first time, the second was heavily suspicious.

He may slip off one time. But never two.

It was intentional on his part! It must have been.

He also started to take more caff breaks when you took one. He always appears three to five minutes after you, takes a fuming cup of caff, engages in some conversation with you, and gets back to the bridge a maximum of two minutes before you, down to the second.

Sometimes he does not even take a single sip of his drink, preferring to speak with you about the current campaign, but mostly art, his special interest. If you wished to speak about your interests, he becomes absolutely mute.

But he listens to you rambling attentively because when you come back to the subject a week or so later, he recalls a myriad of details of different importance with excruciating precision about anything you spoke of.

If you are already talking to someone else, he does not insert himself in the conversation unless invited, preferring to take a seat at a table to sip his drink in complete silence.

His gaze fixes his cup or the propaganda posters on the walls but always seems to come back to you, like you were a light in the darkness... You can feel his burning eyes on the back of your neck. But it does not feel like a burnt wound. Instead, it simply feels like... A heat source on your neck, a warm point that gently spreads on your skin... And when you spin your head in his direction to spot him, his eyes are back on his cup.

But you do feel his warm gaze on you...

You KNOW it.

For some reason, he is trying to deepen your relationship.

And while your heart pumps like a machine at that simple thought, you also know you should stifle that hope in its infancy.

Thrawn... Is a man married to his job. War is the very purpose of his existence and he excels at it, why would he weigh himself down with a relationship?

He either wants a short casual fling, which you would never guess was his style, or he wants something deeper... A real relationship with you.

And those possibilities terrify you.

When you love, you love generously, pouring your very own blood into the relationship, giving endlessly to please your partner. And it cost you a lot in the past, you were used and cast aside after countless times. So many tears were wasted for partners who only saw you as a commodity. You promised yourself to never fall for someone who does not make you their priority anymore!

But you fell for Grand Admiral Thrawn, despite your better judgment and best efforts.

He is a man of integrity, intelligence, charisma, and elegance, you did not feel any malice or will to hurt others in him which is surprisingly uncommon in the Navy hierarchy of the Empire.

And he is very far from being displeasing to look at! His alien features even reinforce his natural charm, his face is harmonious and delicate with sharp intelligent eyes.

Really, everything seems to make him a wonderful romantic partner in theory.

But the theory doesn’t account for the first love of his life: work.

You will never come before his first love, and as a Grand Admiral maybe you should not, but that stabs your heart.

Once again you fell for the wrong one.

If only you were smitten, you could manage. But the fact that he seemed to take an interest in you in return, offers you his gentle words and careful attention complicates absolutely everything!

You should not fall for that trap again! You do not want to!

But how to refuse such a man? How to look in his carmine gaze and stand your ground? It is demanding a will you simply do not possess, so now you run away from any new attempt from him. You respond coldly and sternly at any non-work related praises and leave the room swiftly.

He never tries to hold you back, accepting your choice.

That does not make it any easier for you. If you falter ONCE and give him hope that it is possible, you may fall again and hurt yourself, deeper this time.

You survived your exes but could you survive Grand Admiral Thrawn’s love?

Nothing is less certain.

So you run away like a coward, feeling his fond gaze on your form.

Never again...

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

Thrawn sighs internally, his eyes fixed on the door you just exited through like a persistent image of you would appear to him if he focused on it.

Again, you fled.

He is used to it by now. He compliments you on anything not work-related and you shut off completely.

What did he expect exactly anyway? Love stories between superiors and subalterns in a fleet are such a cliche of movies without any grounds in reality. He heard of some in the Ascendancy and the Empire and none ended well.

But for some months he had that fleeting hope, that childish wish that something was possible between you two.

He was the first surprised to realize he had feelings for you. He welcomed you under his commands as every other officer sent to him and you worked together for some time to find your strengths and give you the appropriate post for your skills.

He was proud to see you grow and mature, witnessing your skills sharpening day by day until you wield them like a deadly blade with the utmost precision. Your true talents were revealed and your name started to be passed around and other ship captains started to court you for a transfer.

It happens a lot. A lot of officers he trained were transferred to other fleets and he only heard good about them since then, even Commodore Faro was heavily requested by others for her next promotion, and while he would only feel pride and accomplishment to let her go lead her own forces as she deserves to, he only felt a deep and insidious cold course his flesh when your name appeared in the requests.

At first, he rationalized it. He concluded that it was too soon for you to leave his tutelage yet, he could still teach you more before seeing you fly away. But the more transfer requests he received, the colder he felt, and the more uneasy he was.

It was like... lacking air. Like he tried to breathe desperately but his throat was so contracted no air could reach his lungs. But those uncomfortable sensations melted in your presence. Next to you, everything felt right and natural once again, like it was meant to be.

Slowly your grip on his being started to tighten, like a frog boiling in a pot.

He never felt like that and it was starting to worry him. He could not let a single person have so much power over him, it would be too dangerous for his ultimate goal, but each time you appeared in his field of vision, all his worries vanished and a warm sensation spread in his chest, his heart felt wrapped in silk and everything was good again.

And then

The first wet dream came.

He had some in his early teenage years when hormones did their work as for everyone else. But he always only saw a faceless, nameless figure in his arms at night. And then they just disappeared altogether, promptly sorted and locked in his well-organized mind and no further dream came to disturb his sleep.

But that morning he was lying in bed, completely dumbfounded. His eyes wide open, fixed on the ceiling he tried to understand what that dream meant. For the very first time, he saw a face.

Your face.

So clearly.

And what a dream it was...

He observed his trembling hands for a moment, trying to make sense of all of that. Did his control over his flesh and body start to loosen after all this time?

Was he softening up?

He greeted his teeth and went on with his day. At that moment, he convinced himself it was lust.

Just lust.

Simple in theory but completely new to him, nobody ever disturbed his flesh like that before and it was quite annoying in his opinion. Obviously, it was only his problem, he could not reasonably hold you responsible for the weakness of his mind and body. He must deal with it alone and not let it disturb his focus!

But he only had to hear your voice...

Hear the melodic notes of your laugh...

Admire the light in your human eyes...

To know that he was in much more trouble than he first thought.

It was not lust.

It was love.

A first for him once again, and at that point he was convinced it would never happen! Not that he would mind, honestly. Heart matters seem more troublesome than anything else...

But you assuredly walked into his life and as assuredly took his heart from his chest to keep it with you like a lovely thief, you fondly kissing it every day with your perfect lips, making it beat faster, to the point he felt it could implode at any moment.

That day he complimented you on your new hairstyle. Out of nowhere. He greeted you, let you know how lovely you were, and walked away without any other word.

Why did he do that? Beats him.

He saw you and felt the irrepressible desire to compliment you, but the usual work praises did not feel enough to calm down the raging storm rising in his chest at that moment.

And it all derailed from here.

He kept the compliments coming and welcomed your disincarnated embrace in his dreams at night, craving to feel your real arms wrapping around him to hug him.

He felt the need to follow you when you took your breaks as any minute away from you felt like death. He instigated casual conversations with you, trying to get you to open up to him. But you kept it so clean and professional; Would it be anyone else he would be thankful for that but he wants you to reveal your heart to him.

He would take anything! Just learning your favorite color would satisfy his cravings for a month.

You slowly relaxed around him, accepting to speak a bit about yourself, as much as it was morally acceptable for a Commander to say to her Grand Admiral. He noted every minute detail you let escape in his mind with meticulousness, creating a map of you in his head.

He let you speak, not daring to interrupt you. He could listen to you describing paint dry.

Of course, he knew how to stop. If you were talking to a colleague he respected your privacy, if he felt you uncomfortable at any moment he would take his leave.

And for a time he fantasized about waking next to you in the same bed, rings shining at your fingers. And it was sweet and soft...

But you are not receptive.

So he buried that dream and slowly prepared to walk away from you. Each time he compliments you your face hardens and your tone gets colder and aloof.

But for a split second...

You bite your lips and he witnesses your heart accelerating in his infrared vision.

And you cannot take that away from him. No matter how harshly you cut the conversation short. Those little compliments are his little pleasures, his only fancy. The only thing he allows himself to savor in secret.

His eyes fall again on the datapad in his hand. With a gesture of the finger, he swipes the file to let appear the latest captain’s request to transfer you to their ship.

Soon he will say goodbye to you, but at least he should make sure you get the best post possible...

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

“Oh Maker...” Karyn makes her spine pop with a sigh of relief, “Today was long!”

“Indeed.” You chuckle, “It was pretty dry and boring!”

You both head to the bar of the officer mess hall.

“Two beers!” Karyn orders, “I am done with work for the day! I need to relax.”

Your shift finished 10 minutes ago, you are officially free for the rest of the day, and a fresh beer seems delectable right now! You sit next to your friend, clink your glasses, and take a large gulp with delight.

“That’s the stuff!” You gasped.

“True! I need to get drunk tonight or I will go crazy!” Karyn declares slamming her glass down the bar.

You look at her with silent questions in your eyes, inviting her to speak more. She snarls, licking her white teeth.

“I feel like the Grand Admiral is trying to slow me down.”

“What?” You ask incredulously.

“He interfered so I could not become Commander of Task Force 231.” She reveals, her head sitting in her hand, annoyed.

You freeze, contemplating what she just said to you. Would Grand Admiral Thrawn truly do that? Voluntarily sabotaging his own Commodore’s career?

No.

You cannot believe that!

“I am sure he had a reason. He is a fair man, you deserve to lead your own troops, maybe he has a bigger plan for you.”

She turns her head towards you, gauging you up and down before sneering shortly.

“I forgot who I was talking to.”

You nudge her playfully, earning another snigger.

“You know I am objective. Even about him!” You counter.

“Mmmmh. Maybe you are, maybe not.” She taunts, taking another sip, “All right! I think it is time for some women talks. How things are going with your Chiss?”

“He isn’t my Chiss, Karyn.” You remind her, “We are not together.”

“Which is highly surprising in my opinion with how interested he is.”

Your grip tightens around your glass, your eyes hypnotized by the ale in front of you.

“He is not interested.” You try to assert.

“Arh, do not use that charade with me, (Y/n)! We are both past it, he devours you with his eyes and tried an infinite amount of time to speak with you. He never showed such interest in anyone since I work under him!”

“He is just trying to be friendly.” You recoil more on your seat.

“Maker fricking... (Y/n)!” She starts losing patience “We both know that is bullshit. I am tired of seeing your beaten puppy look every day, talk to him!”

“... And say what? Explain to me what I am supposed to say, ‘Sorry, I am in love with you but you’ll probably relegate me to the bottom of your priority list, so no chance?’”

“Why do you assume he would relegate you to the bottom of his priority list?”

You turn to her with a raised eyebrow and a tired smile.

“Because he is a Grand Admiral and married to his job? Because if I did come before his duties that would put us all in danger and jeopardize his entire career? Because it is simply impossible? Because he will not risk his goal for a single relationship?”

Usually, you love goal-oriented partners, but you just wish they would make some place for you in their lives and not just see you as an appliance to take advantage of. You want them to be your supporter as you are theirs, but you have been let down so many times...

“(Y/n)...”

You sigh.

“It is so hard, you know? To see him every day, to feel his grip around my heart compressing it until no blood is left. I feel like I am drowning in love and despair, I feel his gaze on my skin and I go weak. He plagues my dreams every night and I wake up cold and arms empty.”

“(Y/n)?” Karyn whispers, “Maybe you should-”

“It just hurts so much. To have him so close, to see Thrawn every day, excelling in his career and craving he would give me the same attention... Some nights I cry in my bed because I feel so empty.”

“Hum, (Y/n)...?” Karyn slightly stiffens.

“But what can I do?” You put your head in your hands with a long sigh “I promised myself not to fall again and I tripped over my feet when I met him. He is the textbook definition of whom I should avoid at all costs but I fell face first in the permabeton. At that point it’s a pattern, I am searching to get hurt. I am weak... I am pathetic but I love him!” You feel sobs rising in your throat and your eyes start to get wet, “Why is it so hard? Why can’t I forget these sentiments with a snap of fingers? Why do I have to live with this? Why-”

“(Y/n)!” Karyn shushes you with a hard whisper, gripping your shoulder to shake you.

You turn your head to her and she designates something on the other side discreetly. You turn your head again and almost fall from your stool.

Right there, at the other side of the bar, a fuming cup of caff in his hand, Grand Admiral Thrawn sits, perfectly calm and composed.

But more importantly, at eavesdropping distance.

You immediately focus back on your ale, head full and spinning.

He heard you!

You know he did, he always hears everything in a room!

You are so done for! You are royally fucked! You are so...

“Maybe he did not hear, maybe he-” Karyn doesn’t have the time to finish her sentence, you get down your stool and leave the mess hall, ditching them both without a single word.

You need to disappear! And quickly!

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

Thrawn lifts his cup to his lips elegantly, peacefully sipping the scorching hot caff.

But inside he is anything but peaceful.

“I am sorry, sir.” Karyn Faro finally says, tensing up before her full glass.

“What for?” Thrawn asks, putting his down delicately, eyes fixed on his cup.

She purses her lips, clearly embarrassed and uneasy.

“This was not planned.” She explains.

“I know.” He simply responds, “You are not one to expose other’s affairs.” He reassures her.

He contemplates his reflection in the dark beverage, the steam lazily rising towards the ceiling while his stomach drops low.

Is it how you truly see him? How you perceive his personhood? Is it his true value in your heart?

He did not intend to listen to you! He just wanted to sit in your vicinity while drinking his caff and then anonymously leave without you noticing he was even there, leaving you two speaking peacefully. He did not intend to pry in your private conversation so impolitely!

But when he understood you were talking about him he could not help but perk his ear.

He almost froze hearing you professing your love for him and for a split second his soul sang.

Only for the high to crash down spectacularly with your next words.

So this is it, then? Your choice is made and your opinion is decided. This relationship will not be?

You will not give him even a single chance to prove his worth?

And he will let you go without trying to correct you?

And everything will be over without even starting.

You will now avoid him until he accepts a transfer request and he will never see you ever again, only hearing rumors of you thriving away from him, leaving him alone and cold to face his destiny and fate?

Without your support?

Without the music of your voice to help him carry through?

Without the reflection of light in your gorgeous eyes to appease his worries?

Without the warmth of your reassuring presence at his side?

...

No.

He slams his cup down and stands on his feet.

“Sir?” Commodore Faro asks as he walks away, decided.

He can’t.

This is beyond him.

This is the first time he is in love, he simply cannot let you go without at least trying to plead his case!

This would kill him.

He knew it was dangerous. Deep down he knew that keeping you at his side was not the tactical-sounding choice. He prophetized before that keeping you around would give you too much power over him, but he would lie if he did not admit that he hoped it would happen deep down his soul. That your grip on his heart was as strangling as it was soothing, that a brush of your hand could command his mood.

Your power over him was nothing about hierarchy, was not wicked or dangerous like those he experienced before in the Ascendancy and the Empire. It was comforting, soothing, soft but strong.

The kind of power he would submit to with glee because he knew no harm could ever come of it. Because that power was meant to bring you together...

He just cannot!

He walks deadly focused ahead, with long strides in the corridors of the Chimaera. His shift resumes in less than 5 minutes but this is the least of his worries right now!

For the very first time in his life, work will wait. He has to clear the air with you first!

It doesn’t take too much time for him to find you. He is quicker than you and he would not let you escape like that!

You are walking rapidly toward your cabin to lock yourself up most probably. Seeing your back walking away from him like that infuriates him somehow, he is offended!

“Commander (Y/n) (F/n), stop!” He exclaims with an authoritative voice.

You shudder, but instead of obeying you pick up the pace.

You...!

“Commander! I order you to stop right now!” He orders louder, accelerating behind you.

You take four more steps before giving up and stop. You remain still, back turned to him, awaiting his next commands.

He approaches you, already regretting his order. He closes the distance between you and places his hand on your shoulder.

You shudder at the contact and he retracts it immediately.

“Commander (F/n)...(Y/n), I am sorry.” He finally announces after several seconds of silence and stillness, “I would like to discuss some of your words earlier.”

“Stop.” you finally speak.

Thrawn almost gulp at your tone

“I beg your pardon?”

“I said stop.” You repeat, “I do not have to hear that.”

Thrawn squints. This is the very first time you cut him like that. This is the first time a subordinate ever cut him...

“I can take an earful if I make a professional mistake. But that... You do not have any right to impose that on me.” You explain.

“Turn around and face me.” He orders softly.

Your hands roll into fists but you slowly turn toward him. You take care not to look into his eyes, preferring to focus on his Grand Admiral badge. Your lips are pressed in a thin line, displeasure clearly apparent on your face.

Thrawn refrains from cupping your cheeks in his hands to hold you lovingly. Instead, he claps them behind his back, preparing himself for the battle ahead.

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

“I simply wish to talk.” He reiterates, “This is not an unreasonable demand.”

Your nostril flares but you add nothing.

“(Y/n), is what you said true?” He demands sternly.

So he did hear you, as you feared.

“Sir, this is highly unprofessional.”

“I am aware, but I feel like we need to have this discussion.”

“No, we do not. If you insist I will file a report for sexual harassment.” You bite back, acidic.

You need to cut that conversation short. You need to escape.

“With what proofs?” Thrawn tilts his head.

The tone is not mocking or threatening, it is calm, assured, and simply factual. You both know you have nothing against him, he never tried anything against your consent and always remained within the bounds of morality.

“We both know you will do none of that, (Y/n). You are too good to make false accusations on such a grave matter.”

You greet your teeth as you raise your frowning gaze to meet his.

“Am I?”

His stern and cold expression relaxes to let appear a tight, fond smile as the glow of his eyes seems to brighten.

“Of course. Your ethics are too strong to slander an innocent man and tarnish victims’ testimony of such a heinous crime.”

You snarl, flashing your teeth to him.

But you have no rebuttal. He is right. You would not do such a thing to victims who already have difficulties to have their voices heard.

“I simply wish to clear the air and tell you my truth.” He takes another step toward you, “This is all I am asking for.”

The smile is gone but quiet hope burns in his red eyes.

You gulp. You told your sentiments to Karyn, but revealing them to his face, admitting them to his eyes... That would kill you on the spot!

“I wish to hear it from you. Tell me the truth, please.” He insists with a softer tone

Almost... begging.

Your lungs tighten in your ribcage, preventing you from breathing correctly while your throat dries up. You open your mouth be no sound escapes you.

“Take your time.” Thrawn invites, his eyes shining so bright you cannot see any pupils anymore.

“What for?!” You spit annoyed, “What would ever come of that discussion anyway?! Our expectations do not coincide!”

Thrawn seems to tense up ever so slightly at your words, like he was hurt.

But that would mean you have the means to reach and hurt him, and you seriously doubt you do. Either way, he needs to hear it, you cannot just brush past all that like the world is a wonderful peaceful place. You both have jobs and a relationship would just complicate everything!

“You do no-” Thrawn stops immediately, looking behind you suddenly, “Someone is coming.”

You turn your head full of hope. Finally, your ticket to exit that predicament!

But before you can see anyone or anything you feel a large hand grabbing your arm and pulling you. You yelp in surprise when Thrawn pulls you inside a cramped and dark room and the door slams shut behind you.

You pull yourself together and realize you are inside a closet. A very small closet. So small Thrawn needs to press you against himself for it to hold you both inside. You gasp, your cheek pressed against his large muscular chest, his long arms wrapped around your shoulders.

“Sir!” You whisper indignantly, “This is-”

“Silence.” He shushes you, “They are approaching...”

You huff but remain silent. After some seconds you can hear a group of people discussing and approaching the door. You tense up, praying no one will open it and bust you in Thrawn’s arms...

“Relax.” He whispers with his rich deep voice, a hand coming to caress your hair to soothe you like you were a cat or something.

“This was unnecessary, Sir!” You complain with a low voice.

“You would have preferred we continue this private conversation with them around?” He responds deadpan.

You growl, putting your hands on his pecs to put some distance between you, but his grip is firm around you and the closet is really confined. You abandon that idea and give up, awaiting for the group to walk away, and then you’ll rush out and sprint away from the Chiss.

You try to calm down your beating heart, feeling Grand Admiral Thrawn’s high body temperature through his uniform, your cheek getting pleasantly warm at his contact.

Is that... Is that his heart that you feel beating against your cheek?

You refrain from sniggering. Of course, this is his heart, but it amuses you to realize that he does have one... He who is always so stern and cold, detached and unbothered does have a heart after all!

You close your eyes, silently focusing on the steady drum in his chest. If they open the closet door and bust you, you cannot do anything to stop it now, no use in stressing yourself out or causing trouble in the confined space.

Did Thrawn feel you relaxing in his embrace? A soft and deep rumble starts in his chest and throat, like a...

“Chiss can purr?” You murmur flabergasted.

“Indeed.” He reveals, “Pardon me, I have some difficulties keeping it at bay with you in my arms.”

You add nothing, too shocked by this revelation.

“It isn’t... unpleasant.” You finally admit, a bit reluctantly.

The purr deepens at your praise and he lays his chin on the top of your head. For some second you wonder if he is about to kiss your head, but he remains like that, continuing to caress your hair, unbothered.

“Why don’t you want to tell me the truth?” He finally asks after a minute of silence, listening to the group that seems to have stopped just before your hiding spot.

“There is nothing to say.”

“You revealed your sentiment to Commodore Karyn. Why revealing them to me is impossible for you?”

You sigh longly, eyes lost in the darkness of the broom closet, trying to formulate a coherent sentence with all those sentiments and emotions raging inside of you.

“I have been hurt in the past.” You just say.

“And you are afraid I will hurt you the same?” Thrawn whispers with his rich voice.

“I am not ‘afraid’ you will, I know you will.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“They did it out of commodity and maybe malice, you would do it out of necessity.”

“I cannot imagine a situation where I would hurt you, even out of necessity.” He negociates.

“No, it’s just...” You sigh, taking a deep breath, “I have been used before and now I want someone who would make me their priority, not just an afterthought!”

His grip tightens ever so slightly around your shoulders and his purr stops, signifying that he is closely listening to our worries.

“I do not plan to make you an afterthought in any capacity. If we start a relationship I will make sure to take care of you to the best of my capacities.”

“You are a Grand Admiral, your agenda is full to the brim, and your days are packed. What kind of attention can you still spare at the end of a shift? You will drop like a fly, Sir.”

His hand caressing your hair stops and sneaks under your chin to make you tilt your head to face him. You press your lips in a thin line as he details your face with his inquisitive gaze, unraveling your soul with his burning orbs, unclothing your heart to reveal every febrile hope and fear.

"How can you be so sure of those claims?” He simply asks, so close you can feel his breath on your lips.

“It is simple logic, Sir. You will never put me before your job, and you should not do it. But I need someone ready to put me first for once... Just once.”

He releases your chin to cup your cheek with his large palm, his thumb caressing your thin skin tenderly.

“(Y/n), I do not know what the future has in store for us, but I know I will forever regret it if I do not try with you.” He whispers, “You are right, I cannot put you before my work. But that does not mean that you should come after it. I can manage two important matters at the same time, I can take care of you while leading us to victory.”

“A lot of exes made the same promise and they left me in the dirt when they got bored.” You simply assess, feeling tired of that charade.

How many times did you dance that choreography already? Too many.

“(Y/n), do you truly think I would do that? That I would waste both of our time for mindless fun and abandon you after? If I propose to you it is because I am confident in my capacity to give you everything you need. Look into my eyes and tell me: Is this how you think I am?”

You look into his sihny eyes and sigh.

“No... I do not think you would do that...” You concede, “You are not malicious.”

“Then why not give us a chance?” He presses his forehead against yours, his thumb caressing your cheekbone.

“Because... I could not survive you...” Your throat tightens as you speak.

“What do you mean?” He demands with a soothing tone.

“I may have been able to piece myself back together after them... But you, Sir, you would kill me. You would be my death.” You admit, lowering your tone.

He tilts your head and reverently kisses your forehead in the secret darkness of the closet.

“Then let me be your life. Every day I will be the force propelling you forward if you accept to intertwine your fate with mine... If you allow me to take your hand I will devote myself to you. You deserve to be loved and cared for, (Y/n) and it would be my privilege to make it my duty.”

You sigh, tired, but lean on the warmth of his palm.

“Promise me to think about it, (Y/n).”

You hesitate, remembering all the tears and sleepless nights.

But those eyes... So assured and confident, determined and reassuring...

“... All right.”

He brushes his nose with yours, his purr resuming.

“I love you, (Y/n). You do not need to respond yet, just know that I adore you.”

In the secrecy of that tight closet, you press yourself against Grand Admiral Thrawn, selfishly reveling in the love and warmth that you refuse to give back for now.

“I do not promise anything.” You temper.

“I know. But the fact that you agreed to consider it is enough for me. I will patiently wait for you and your response. And whatever your response may be, I will not stop loving you, even from afar.”

You hesitate but finally wrap your arms around his chest, and think you felt his heart jolt at that, but you cannot be sure. What you can be sure, however, is the resuming of the purring.

You do not know what the future holds for you, but right now, his embrace is the only place you want to be in.

Even if it is selfish.

Even if it may be the only one time you ever feel it around you.

But maybe...

Not.

“If tie your fate to mine, either in love or friendship, I will devote myself to you. I promise you in this instant.”

And he reverently kisses your forehead as to seal his words.

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