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talkfastromance4 · 5 years ago

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For Your Eyes Only-- bodyguard!ashton [Chapter 12+Epilogue]

I can’t believe the end has finally come. I first posted this story on December 15, 2019 and was the first chaptered fic I posted (and now completed.) Thank you to those who have read and kept up with this story. It’s very near and dear to my heart. I’m sad that it’s ending but I’m so, so happy with it. Thank you again for loving Ashton and Alouette with me as I made my own fairytale💕💖

Word Count: 4582

Warnings: mild smut near the middle

Masterlist

Chap. 1 || Chap. 2 || Chap. 3 || Chap. 4 || Chap. 5 || Chap. 6 || Chap. 7 || Chap. 8 || Chap. 9 || Chap. 10 || Chap. 11

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. *copyright listed below*

• • • •

The palace has been abuzz with excitement and planning once again as Alouette’s coronation is approaching only a few days away. Queen Helene arrived a week ago to go over the plans for the ceremony. Every day has been filled with meetings on final decisions for the flowers, dress fittings and any other last-minute preparations.

Alouette is eating lunch while reviewing the itinerary of coronation day when there was a soft knock.

“Come in,” she says distantly.

“Is that how you greet your best friend?”

Alouette jumps out of her chair at the sound of Neva’s voice and races to hug her tightly, both squeal in delight at being in each other’s presence again. Neva’s birthday seems so long ago and with everything that happened since then, Alouette couldn’t be happier.

“I didn’t know you were coming today!” Alouette exclaims, still hugging her close.

“Ashton arranged it,” Neva laughs and draws back so she can inspect her best friend. “How are you mi alondra?” (my lark)

“I’m good,” Alouette nods with a small smile. She drops her hands to Neva’s, squeezing tightly. “A little nervous about the coronation but I promise, I’m okay.”

“Good. Two things, I need to see this ring!” Neva lifts Alouette’s left hand and ogles at the sparkling diamond that fits so perfectly on her finger. “Oh, it’s gorgeous. Ashton did well. And secondly, I need you to tell me everything there is to know about you and Ashton. How did this all start? When was your first kiss? How did he propose? Tell me all.”

Alouette informed Neva of everything that has happened over a whole pot of tea. She first began with her kidnapping and how she had the thought of Ashton that kept her alive. Neva held her hand the whole time she discussed what happened to her. Aside from Ashton, Neva is her closest friend who she tells everything to.

Her favorite parts were telling Neva about the best moments she and Ashton have had.

“I wish I could have been here for you too,” Neva tells her sadly, tears in her eyes. “My manager wouldn’t let me take time off, no matter how many fits I threw.”

“It’s all right, I had Ashton to take care of me,” Alouette smiles, “and besides, you��re here now for one of the most important days of my life. Apart from my wedding.”

They talked for hours until Ashton came in the room stopping their discussion.

“Hello, Neva,” Ashton smiles standing next to Alouette’s chair.

“Hi security man,” she grins. “Congratulations on the engagement.”

“Thank you,” his smile remains then touches Alouette’s cheek with his fingers to get her attention. Her blue eyes meet his. “It’s time for your dress fitting.”

“Not your wedding dress fitting, right?! I wanted to go shopping with you,” Neva frowns.

“No, it’s for my coronation dress,” Alouette answers with a soft chuckle. “We haven’t even picked a date yet, with what’s going on in preparation lately.”

“Good, because I am going to make sure your bachelorette party is to die for!”

Ashton exhales loudly at her choice of her words.

“You know what I mean,” Neva recovers innocently at Ashton. She smiles and bats her eyes for good measure.

Alouette laughs then takes Ashton’s hand rising from the chair. “I’ll see you later for dinner, Neve.”

“Bye lovebirds!” she calls behind them.

Alouette slips her hand in Ashton’s easily, since their engagement she’s been loving how open they can be with their affections towards each other. The best part is no one looks at them strangely because of it. Ashton gives her hand a gentle squeeze as they reach the staircase to the third floor.

Her heels and his boots clack on the tile as they ascend, the stairway is quiet and Alouette senses something is on his mind.

“Are you okay?” she asks, giving his hand a gentle pull. He sighs in response.

“Are you sure you want me to be a knight?”

Alouette halts on her step and Ashton stops on the one below her, his hazel eyes stare into hers and she can see the doubt in them.

“Of course, I do. You have all the qualifications, you deserve this honor, Ashton, especially after what you’ve all done for me. Loving me aside,” she adds to lighten the mood, but he still has a crease between his brows.

“I don’t know a thing about being a royal. What if we’re at an important dinner and I use the wrong fork? I could jeopardize something very import--”

Alouette stops his rambling by grabbing his cheeks and pressing her mouth against his. He responds enthusiastically, his hands grip her waist and she pulls away. Ashton chases her lips for more, but she strokes his cheek with her thumbs.

“Whatever silverware you use isn’t going to be a problem. You aren’t going to jeopardize anything, and I’ll be by your side the whole time, okay? We’re in this together,” she gives him one more soft peck and they continue their ascent to her dress fitting.

•••••

It’s the morning of her coronation and Alouette is woken in the best way possible. Ashton sprinkles the skin of her shoulder that’s exposed from her baggy night shirt with kisses. He makes a trail from below her ear along the curve of her neck to the tip of her shoulder. It’s the spike of her goosebumps that wakes her, a smile already on her lips.

While Ashton’s lips move back up to her ear, his hand is slipping beneath her night shirt, his skin hot on her belly while his fingers tickle up to her breasts. He kneads her flesh tenderly, but the action elicits a small moan from her lips. A sound that Ashton will always fall in love with as if it were their first time.

Alouette twists around capturing his lips in a feverish kiss. They both make quick work of removing his boxers and her panties, both craving the closeness the other can satisfy. Ashton swipes his middle finger up her slit and she gasps into his mouth. With his finger still teasing her, he works his mouth down her body using his other hand to push up her shirt.

Ashton licks the underside of her breast, loving the soft moans she makes as he continues lower and lower. Alouette spreads her legs open, her body flinching when Ashton presses the pad of his finger against her clit and her moan has increased in volume.

“Shh, my lady,” he hushes dragging his lips over her core. “Can’t have you waking the whole palace.”

“I—ohh!” She moans long and slow when he inserts his finger and kisses her clit.

Ashton is every form of gentle, pulling and curling his finger in and out of her just as her moans are soft in response. He licks at her in a savory manner, his tongue rolling and flicking over her bud. He hums against her when she places her fingers in his hair, brushing it away from his forehead. Her back arches and her toes curl when her body heat rises, and Ashton quickens his actions.

He knows she’s close, so he removes his mouth so he can quiet her moan with a kiss while his fingers continue to work her over. She’s bucking her hips against his palm.

“Please, please,” she whimpers around his mouth. “Need you.”

She fumbles in the drawer of her nightstand for a condom and rips it open hastily while Ashton kisses her neck. She rolls it over him delicately and Ashton removes his finger grabbing hold of himself. He pushes against her entrance before sinking in inch by inch. Alouette drags his mouth back to hers as they both moan in pleasure. Their bodies roll together as he pumps into her with desire, their fingers interlocking and breaths turning ragged.

For a moment, she forgets that she is to be Queen in a few short hours and that every eye will be on her. For this moment, it’s just Alouette and Ashton, two people desperately in love. She sighs his name and he breathes her in as they come together, a true force to be reckoned with.

“I have something for you,” he kisses her cheek after they’ve caught their breath and he slips out of bed. She watches him pull out a box from his trousers that are thrown over the chair at the foot of her bed and he sits next to her again. “Happy coronation day.”

Alouette sits up and opens the box, gasping when she sees what’s inside. Perched in the center sat a swan pin made completely out of diamonds. She gasps.

“Ashton, it’s beautiful!” her fingers trace over the small diamonds faceted along the slender neck, then she glances up at him, “you need to stop spoiling me with gifts.”

“I’ll be your husband soon, it’s part of my husbandry duties,” he grins, and she pokes his dimple.

“Then I shall spoil you with gifts!” she giggles and falls on top of him.

He holds her fingers to his cheek so he can kiss her palm. “You already spoil me, Alouette,” he says.

His hands then roam over her bare back under the shirt and he feels her scars. He pulls her closer just as there’s a knock on the door.

“Miss Alouette! It is time to get ready!” Rosa calls from the outside of the door.

“Just a minute, Rosa!” Alouette calls and gives Ashton a kiss. “I’ll wear this pin today, thank you, I love it.”

“You’re welcome,” he hums, and they clamber out of bed.

They dress quickly and when Alouette is in her robe, Ashton opens the door. Rosa and Alouette’s other maids’ bustle in with her dress that’s secure in the white bag. No one has seen it except the designer and her ladies. Ashton tries to sneak a peek when a make-up team comes in and hair stylists.

“Calum, Michael and Luke are waiting for you downstairs,” Sydney tells Ashton. She’s always on top of keeping everything in order and on a timely fashion.

“I’ll see you soon,” Alouette smiles at him.

Before he can be shooed out by Sydney, he sneaks a quick kiss to Alouette’s lips. “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” she giggles, he pinches her cheek lightly and leaves the room.

Alouette listens to Sydney rattle off the time slots, where and when to enter the hall and reiterates part of the oath that will be spoken. Alouette listens while keeping her gaze on her eyes in the mirror while her hair and make-up is being done.

Her stylists twist her hair into an elegant chignon so that the Regent’s Crown will fit perfectly atop her head. All her ladies help her into the dress. It’s blush pink in color with lace appliques and a cape that can be added near the back at the center of her lower back. Her jewelry is added last, simple pearl earrings and a diamond necklace.

Rosa places the swan pendant Ashton gifted her with and took her hand, tears in her eyes.

“I’m so proud of you, my lady,” Rosa smiles.

“Thank you, Rosa. Thank you for everything,” Alouette squeezes her hands and gives her a tight hug.

“Princess,” Sydney says, “it’s time.”

•••••

Alouette stands outside the large oak doors while the small orchestra in the balcony plays a beautiful ballad and then the doors open and she’s walking gracefully down the aisle. Her guests, Princes and Princesses, Kings and Queens, other dignitaries, friends, family, and some of her people stand on either side of her.

She passes the television crews that are all along the back of the hall. Reporters are writing furiously in their pads; everyone is at apt attention.

Alouette has been trained not to look at their faces, to keep her face forward to where the Archbishop Belisario is standing with the orb and sceptre that she will be holding. She keeps count of her breathing, feeling very aware that all eyes are on her but when she spots Ashton off to the side near the front, and their eyes meet, she instantly relaxes.

Queen Helene is already sitting in her respective throne off to the left, when she catches the eye of her granddaughter, she winks and smiles proudly.

As she walks by the guests, she hears them whisper quietly to one another as she passes because of the back of her dress. One request she had was that the back would be see through, so that her scars would be seen. She wanted to show her people that as Queen, she is fierce and tenacious. She lifts the skirt of her dress when she reaches the four steps and rises carefully to the throne.

Alouette twirls around so she’s facing the congregation and Archbishop Belisario comes to stand next to her just as the music fades away and she takes her seat on the throne. The seat is plush and soft beneath her and the Archbishop speaks his prayer over her.

“Welcome all to the coronation of Princess Alouette. I give thee, the orb of Peace and the sceptre of Longevity,” Archbishop Belisario hands each item to Alouette.

She holds them proudly, the weight is heavy, but she keeps her composure, chin held high.

“Madam, is your Majesty willing to take the Oath?”

“I am willing,” Alouette answers proudly. She keeps her gaze focused on the stained-glass panes near the back of the hall. It’s an array of colors with the center of it being a large tree with plenty of green leaves.

“Will you solemnly promise and swear to govern the people of Chadria, according to the statutes in parliament agreed upon, and the respective laws and customs of the same?”

“I solemnly promise so to do.”

“Will you, in your power, cause law and justice and mercy to be executed in all judgments?”

“I solemnly promise so to do.”

The Archbishop removes the crown from Queen Helene who has risen from her chair and he places it atop Alouette’s head. The weight is lighter than that of the orb and sceptre, but she feels the weight, nonetheless. It holds the weight of her power, of her reign over her beautiful country. Alouette stands, wearing it proudly as the ceremony comes to a close.

This is the big moment as she takes her first step forward to declare the last part of her Oath now as Queen. She clears her throat softly and shifts her focus from the stained-glass window to her people.

“The things which I have promised, I will perform and keep. So, help me, God,” she speaks with authority and her voice doesn’t waiver. She takes one step forward.

“Presenting, Her Majesty, Alouette Jolene Iduna; Queen of Chadria,” Archbishop Belisario concludes and the hall erupts in cheers and applause.

Alouette smiles proudly, eyes gazing over the people in front of her, her people. She sneaks a glance to her left where Ashton is clapping proudly as well, a large smile on his face. The Archbishop takes the orb and sceptre from her so she can take her first walk as Queen. Her grandmother approaches next, kisses her cheek and then Alouette descends the stairs once more. The orchestra plays Chadria’s anthem and this time, as she passes, the people bow or curtsy to her and the doors open once more as flashes from cameras announce her exit.

•••••

Three days after Alouette’s coronation is Ashton’s knighting ceremony, her first act as Queen. In those three days she has aided Ashton in the ceremony and has had a white suit made for him to wear. It will be broadcasted just as her coronation was. Guests filled the seats with Luke, Calum and Michael sitting in the pews off to the right, they sat in the same spot for Alouette’s ceremony.

The Herald stands at the podium waiting for the time to start and he clears his throat into the microphone. The room falls silent and Alouette squeezes Ashton’s hand in assurance as the Herald begins. Next to the Herald on plush red velvet pillows are the Knight’s chain, the Sword of Nobility, the white belt of Chivalry, and the sword Ashton will be presented with as his own.

Victor, who is also a knight, stands near the objects with a page boy to help hand off each one as the ceremony commences.

“In days gone by, there have existed many orders of knighthood which recognized the skill and honor of their members. From the knights of the round table to present day, it is in their duty of service and of the noble ideals of chivalry embodied by their Queen, did these orders achieve this highest rank. Members of this Order of Chivalry are mighty warriors, but also were skilled in the arts and have given their time to the benefit of the common weal.

“As such, they have been recognized as Peers of the land. Our Majesty the Queen will now begin the knighthood. The Crown calls forth Ashton Fletcher Irwin to come before the Court and company here today.”

Ashton and Alouette stand, they step forth in front of the podium and Ashton kneels before her, his hands clasped together in front of him. When he looks up at her, she smiles radiantly at him and he can’t help but smile back.

“Ashton Irwin, have you undertaken to accept the accolade of Knighthood that has been offered to you?” she asks, her voice echoes throughout the room.

“I have,” he responds.

The Herald holds the chain above his head to showcase it to the crowd and Victor steps forth.

“This chain has been passed from knight to knight throughout the ages of our kingdom. Let it now pass from knight to knight again,” the Herald says and hands it to Victor who holds it tenderly between his fingers. “Bring forth the great Sword of Nobility.” The Herald is handed the sword from the page boy.

He presents it to Alouette who accepts it delicately in her hands, letting the tip of the sword hang a centimeter above the floor.

“Ashton Irwin,” she begins, eyes on him, “you have been deemed fit for this high estate by your peers and have indicated your willingness to accept this honor from my hand. Do you solemnly swear by all that you hold sacred, true and just, that you will honor and defend the Crown and Kingdom of Chadria?”

“I will.”

“That you will honor, defend, and protect all ladies, and those weaker than yourself?”

“I will.”

“That you will be courteous, honorable and loyal of the Chivalry?”

“I will.”

“That you will be charitable and defend the poor and helpless, that you will be brave and never avoid dangerous paths out of fear?”

“I will.”

Alouette lifts the sword, the tip hanging precariously over his right shoulder. “Then having sworn these solemn oaths, know now that I, Queen Alouette Jolene Iduna of Chadria dub you with this Sword of Nobility and by all that you hold sacred, true, and just . . . Once for honor—” she touches his shoulder with the blade then moves back and forth on each shoulder each time “—Twice for Duty . . . Thrice for Chivalry. . . Arise, Sir Ashton Irwin!”

Alouette hands the sword to the Herald who then hands her a white belt with red jewels encrusted on the buckle as Ashton rises. She holds the belt in front of him.

“Accept this white belt, symbolizing the purity of your honor, the sign of the Order of Chivalry, and of your knightly rank and station,” she says and ties the belt around his waist. Then she is handed the Knight’s chain holding it before Ashton. “Accept from my hands this chain, passed from knight to knight, for each knight is a link in the honor of our Kingdom. It symbolizes your fealty to Crown and Kingdom. Take this chain and swear.”

Ashton grasps the chain in his hands, right below Alouette’s and looks to the Herald who will tell prompt him what to recite. He fixes his gaze to Alouette after the Herald begins speaking.

“This day do I render homage and fealty to my Sovereign Lady, Alouette Queen of Chadria who will, from this day forward, be my Liege Lady. I will remain true in all ways, serving you faithfully. . .” Ashton can’t help this is just as intimate as a wedding ceremony will be when repeating his vows, “this do I swear by my belt and chain and by my honor and by the high ideals which I hold as a Knight of this land. So, say I, Ashton Irwin.”

“I accept your homage, fealty, and pledge to you that from this day forward until the end my reign you are my Liege man that I will honor your order and defend your rights as a Peer. I will protect the trust that you have placed in me, mighty with justice, tempered with mercy,” Alouette speaks then holds up the chain from his fingers. “Accept this chain, which will symbolize your duty and your bond as Liegeman in fealty to the Crown of Chadria. Never forget the burden of this chain.”

She places the chain around his neck and then a sword is pulled from its sheath by the Herald who holds it in front of Ashton. It’s beautiful and sharp with ruby jewels encrusted on the pommel and guard. Ashton’s eyes widen, he was told he’d be getting a sword, but he didn’t think it’d be this exquisite or grand.

“Accept this sword,” Alouette begins again listening to the prompting from the Herald, “which will symbolize your prowess at arms. Remember this: the sword of the Chivalry should be drawn only in defense of the land, or in front of those weaker than yourself. Wear it with care. Wield it with mercy.”

Alouette points to the sword as the Herald presents it to Ashton who takes it in his own hands examining it quickly before Victor places it back in its sheath. Alouette smiles at Ashton and lifts her hands in the air, motioning him to stand. He rises slowly, eyes fixed on her.

“Arise, Sir Ashton, for you are now a knight of Chadria,” she declares, and he faces the crowd.

“For Sir Ashton Irwin,” the Herald declares, “hip, hip!”

“Hooray!”

“Hip, hip!”

“Hooray!”

“Hip, hip!”

“Hooray!”

Ashton is welcomed in glorious applause and Alouette can see how hard he’s trying to keep his composure. His mouth is quivering from trying not to smile and she admires him proudly. He looks magnificent in his white uniform, his silver chain and white belt. She takes his hand in hers and can’t resist to kiss his cheek.

He truly is her knight in shining armor.

•••••

THREE YEARS LATER

Alouette’s dogs are barking as they prance and run joyously on the palace grounds. They’re chasing younger children and trying to capture the bubbles that the small ones are blowing into the spring air. Rosa is setting up the food table with help of the maids in waiting while Ashton and Alouette watch fondly from their bench.

Calum is off to the side with his shades covering his eyes surveying the area while Michael and Luke are playing with the little ones. Other forms of security are around the perimeter of the grounds. After Alouette became Queen there were more candidates wanting to aid in her safety, especially after Ashton was knighted.

He made sure each one that applied would be a good fit, not just with him but with Calum as well since he became head security guard after Ashton left his post. He still made sure to have an oversight of all security details, he’s a man of habit, but he’s been loving his married life with Alouette.

Their wedding happened about a year after her coronation and his knighting ceremony on a beautiful spring day much like this one. Clear blue skies with a cool breeze that felt nice in the warm sun. Ashton cried as he watched her make her way towards him, she looked like an angel.

Everything about her was soft and delicate, her hair pinned loosely around her face with a tiara on her head, lace flowers covered her bodice and the swan necklace he gave her sparkled in the sunlight. Both of their voices quivered as they recited their vows and when he kissed her for the first time? He thought he’d burst from happiness and the love he felt for her.

Their first year of marriage was adventurous. It wasn’t much different from when he’d travel with her before but now, he was her right-hand man, standing the forefront with his Queen and his love. He counseled with her late at night going over new laws or funding’s that needed review. They’re a team, a solid unit, and the people of Chadria even call him ‘Prince Ashton’ on accident but he fits the role perfectly.

There’s a loud squeal to their left that they both have grown accustomed to and could spot from a mile away. Their daughter, Penelope is running towards them in her pretty pink dress. Her dark blond ringlets bouncing behind her until she finally crashes into Ashton’s legs.

“Hello, my love,” he greets her and lifts her into his lap just as Luke comes to a halting stop. He was chasing her and is clearly out of breath.

Penelope cuddles into Ashton and Alouette smiles fondly at her little princess. She’s perfect in every way but especially today since it’s her first birthday.

“Why were you chasing her?” Ashton asks with a smile; Luke is still panting heavily.

“She stole my earpiece,” Luke huffs.

“Penny, did you take something of Luke’s?” Alouette asks her sternly. Penelope turns her head to her mother, a mirror image. She nods against Ashton’s chest and he chuckles, kissing her blond head. “Can mommy have it, please?”

Alouette holds her hand out, palm up. Penelope hesitates but when Ashton nudges her quietly telling her, ‘go on,’ she drops the small earpiece into her mother’s hand.

“Thank you. It’s time for cake, no more stealing little princess,” Alouette scolds but pokes her in the dimple, the same one that is present in her father.

Penelope smiles and the small family rise from the bench and make their way to the table where Rosa is. Alouette hands Luke his small equipment with an apologetic smile. Alouette’s grandmother and Pete are seated in one of the chairs, party hats on their heads. Flowers are scattered about the table and Neva is helping one of the little girls into her seat, the ring on her finger sparkles in the sun.

Alouette smiles at her when Michael comes up behind her, holding onto her waist and whispers something in her ear that makes her laugh. Not too long after the celebrations of the coronation and knighting, Neva and Michael got to talking and now they’re engaged to be married in just a few short months. They’re both Penelope’s godparents.

Neva looks up and smiles at Alouette while they take their place next to where Penelope will be seated in front of her cake. It’s a small one-layer cake with cloying white buttercream frosting and intricate flowers placed all over it. Luke and Calum join behind Ashton and Alouette who are kneeling behind Penelope in her chair.

Once the birthday song has been sung, Penelope digs right into the cake putting the piece she grabbed right in her mouth. Chocolate crumbs fall on her dress, the frosting smears on her nose which causes everyone to laugh. She looks to her left at Ashton’s smiling face then smears her little hand over his mouth.

“Mm, thank you my love,” he chuckles trying to lick off the treat. Penelope giggles then claps her hands, cake flies onto Alouette’s dress.

She laughs it off and looks to Ashton. He’s smiling back through his chocolate smile and grasps her hand in his. He leans over their daughter’s head to give her a sweet frosting kiss.

When cake is finished and Penelope is all cleaned up, she’s sitting on a blanket in Helene’s lap while Pete reads all the little kids a story. Helene brushes through Penelope’s hair gently as they listen to the story of a princess who fell madly in love with one of her royal guards.

“Do you think she knows this is about us?” Alouette asks Ashton. His arms are wrapped around her waist, his chin resting on her shoulder as they listen to their own story which was a gift from Neva who had a friend that wrote children’s books.

“She will when she’s older,” he nods then interlocks their fingers together over her stomach. “I’ll tell her everyday how I let my guard down for her mother.”

“And I’ll tell her how I showed my heart for your eyes only.”

• • • •

Copyright talkfastromance4 © All works is intellectual property of the author. All rights reserved. Any redistribution or reproduction or any part or all contents in any form is prohibited. You may not, without written expression and consent from the author, distribute works amongst other social media platforms

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sassycassie-s-writing · 5 years ago

Text

Always Right

By: SassyShoulderAngel319

Fandom/Character(s): Avengers - Peter Parker/Spider-Man

Rating: PG-11/T-

Original Idea: Spider-Man: Far From Home baby!

Notes: (Masterlist)(By Character)(About Me) Brown Recluse is back, babies with a slightly different backstory because Endgame feels! MAJOR ENDGAME AND SM: FFH SPOILERS AHEAD! YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED. THIS IS YOUR WARNING!

^^^^^

Peter’s shoulder slammed into the locker next to mine. “Hey!” He grinned at me.

“Hi Pete,” I replied.

“So! Are you going on the trip?”

I slammed my locker. “Nope,” I said, twisting the comb lock and striding away.

Peter ran after me, pushing through students that my smaller stature wove through with more ease. “What? Why?!” he demanded, grabbing my arm to slow me down.

I turned with a glare. “Because I can’t, okay? Look, I know he was your mentor and you miss him too, but he was my dad. I’m just… I’m needed here.”

“New York can survive without Spider-Man for a couple weeks—surely it can survive without Brown Recluse too.”

I smacked his hand off my arm. “It’s not about New York, Peter! It’s about…” I ground my jaw and looked around. Peter and I were still mildly nerdy losers even in a school like this so no one paid us any attention. “It’s about Pepper and Morgan,” I hissed. “They need me. Am I a bad reminder of Tony’s playboy past to Pepper? Yes. But Morgan doesn’t even realize that I’m only her half-sister. She needs me. We’re all that’s left of him. I can’t leave Morgan and Pepper.”

“I thought you were still living with your caretaker.”

“I am. But only because I go to school in the city. Once summer starts I’m going to the cabin upstate to stay with Pepper and Morgan. My caretaker has the summer off to spend with her own family.” I gave him a forced smile and a two-fingered salute. “Have fun on the trip, Pete.”

I ducked through a gap in the crowd of students and headed off for class.

^^^^^

“Fri… FRIDAY…” Dad rasped.

“Dad—no. Don’t. Don’t try to talk. We’re gonna get you some help,” I promised around the tears flowing down my face. “Dad. I’m back now. Me and Pete—we both are. Your family is here. You can’t give up now. Dad, please!”

Dad grasped my hand with the one that hadn’t been charred by the Stones. “FRIDAY… activate… Suit of Armor… Around My World Protocol.”

“Dad—Dad what are you doing?”

The nanotech that made up his suit started crawling up my arm, vanishing off of his body. As it moved, the colors changed—from gold and red to brown and black.

“I…” he breathed. “I knew you were Brown Recluse the day you started. The… mole on your chin… gave you away. You should have gone with… the full-face mask.” He gave me a weak smile. The nanotech kept crawling over my body, spreading down my legs now.

“Dad you’re gonna be fine. Please. You have to be fine!”

“Pete…”

“Yes, Mr. Stark?” Peter squeaked, voice breaking and thick with emotion.

“Take care of her.”

“O-of course, Mr. Stark.”

The nanotech finished crawling. My whole suit had been swamped by it—like Peter’s Iron Spider suit.

^^^^^

I shoved out of my chair and bolted out of the physics classroom, snatching my backpack.

“Miss Marble!” Mr. Llewellyn called after me. “What’s wrong? They’re about to send down the yearbooks!”

I couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think. Couldn’t see past the tears welling up in my eyes. I pounded down the hallways at full-tilt, scrabbling through my pockets for my mask. Impatiently wiping tears from my eyes, I shoved the front door open, gasping for breath.

I freed my mask, slammed the gate of the school open, and sprinted across the football field.

Once I ducked out of view of the school, I yanked my mask on over my head and shot one of my webs up into the sky. It latched onto a building and I swung away as fast as I could, making my way from Queens to Manhattan.

To the top of Avengers Tower.

Once there I panted, clutching at my chest with one hand, sticking to the building with the other one.

“Hey. You okay?” a familiar voice asked as there was a soft thump on the glass behind me.

I whirled.

Peter, decked out in his full suit.

“Go away. Have fun on your trip,” I said. “I don’t want to talk to anyone right now.”

Peter sat down next to me, ripping his mask off and wrapping an arm around my shoulders. “Then… we won’t talk,” he decided. His other arm wrapped around my front and he just hugged me. He didn’t seem to mind me sobbing into his shoulder, soaking his suit. Just rocked me back and forth.

I thought about a snarky retort that him not talking would be a veritable miracle but didn’t have the brain power to force my mouth into saying it.

He tugged my mask off my head and started stroking my hair.

I cried for several more minutes until I cried myself out and the hiccups from sobbing subsided.

Peter got to his feet and offered me his hand. “C’mon,” he said. “Let’s go get our yearbooks. I want you to be the first one to sign mine. Got your marker?”

I felt in my backpack until I found the gold marker I’d brought. I held it up and waved it vaguely. “Got it.” Shoving it back in my bag, I zipped it up and took Peter’s hand. He helped me to my feet and handed me back my mask. I pulled my hair back to get it less tangled and pulled my mask back on over my head. The gap in the full-head spandex for my mouth and nose pressed into my skin.

He smiled and slid his own mask on over his curls. “Great. Let’s go.”

Still holding my hand, he swan-dove off the Tower, forcing me to go with him.

We swung our way back to school, found a place to straighten up back in our civvies, and went inside.

“Y’know, it’d be easier on everyone if you told someone on staff who you really are,” Peter remarked as we trudged up the stairs. “If the teachers knew you kept having breakdowns because your dad sacrificed himself, they’d go a lot easier on you for storming out of class and—”

“Not gonna happen,” I snapped, harsher than I meant to. “No one but you and my family and my caretaker know. And no one else is gonna know.” I combed my hair with my fingers. “Thanks for always being there for me, Pete. Enjoy the trip.”

“I promised I would be!” Peter called as we split up to go back to our classes.

“Welcome back, Miss Marble. Everything alright?” Mr. Llewellyn asked. The rest of the class was exchanging yearbooks, getting ready to head out into the hallways to sign friends’ books.

I nodded. “Yeah. Just a… personal problem,” I said.

“Miss Marble, I know this Blip business has been hard on everyone, but your reactions are the most severe. Maybe you should see a—”

“I already am seeing a counselor, Mr. Llewellyn,” I said.

“Well, alright then,” he remarked. He handed me the yearbook that had a sticker on the side with my name on it. “Have a good summer, okay?”

“I’ll try,” I said. I took the book and left the classroom, digging my marker out.

I wove through the sea of people back to Peter’s homeroom.

“Parker!” I shouted. He smiled and ducked under a jock’s arm to make his way over to me. I thrust my yearbook at him. “Wanted you to be the first to sign mine too.” He smiled and swapped books with me.

Dear Pete, I wrote on one of the blank white pages in the back of the book.

It’s been a crazy year, hasn’t it? After the Blip took us both… Pep told me it was YOU who convinced Dad to help bring us all back. He wasn’t gonna, but then he found the internship photo in the kitchen in the cabin, and that’s why he helped the team bring back everyone. He loved you. I love you. Thanks for keeping your promise to keep an eye on me. Have fun on the science trip!

With love,

Miss Stark

I drew a little cartoon spider next to my name and passed it back to him, taking mine from his hand.

“Hey, if you see something really weird and authentic in Italy or France or wherever that’s, like, less than five bucks, get it for me and I’ll pay you back, okay?” I said, cradling my book under my arm and recapping my marker.

“Ye-yeah! Sure thing!” Peter replied.

“And call me if, I don’t know, the world starts to end.”

“It’s… not gonna end,” he complained. “Don’t jinx it.”

“I’ll do my best. Knock on wood,” I said, knocking on his forehead. He snorted and ducked away. “Bye Pete!”

“See ya!”

^^^^^

“Spidey!” I shouted, slinging up onto the bridge and slamming a drone out of the way with both feet.

“Recluse!” Peter exclaimed, voice completely breaking so it sounded like, “ReCLUse!” I snickered. “What are you doing here? I thought you weren’t coming on the trip!”

“You called Happy and had him fly the jet to the Netherlands! You really thought I wouldn’t come?!” I demanded, snatching a drone with a web and hurling it into another one. “Why didn’t you call me?!”

“I… I couldn’t remember your number!” His voice broke again, squeaking on “number.”

I wrenched a drone’s power source out and chucked it at Peter. It glanced off his shoulder. “Liar!”

“Okaaay. I was embarrassed to call you after I royally screwed up.”

“Well I had to hear about it from Happy! I’d rather have heard it from you!”

“Can you two have your little lover’s quarrel later?!” Happy demanded in our earpieces.

“Shut up!” I retorted as I tore a drone in half with my bare hands. Or, rather, semi-bare hands. “We’re not having a lover’s quarrel, Harold.”

“Harold?” Peter asked.

“Happy’s real name?” I said.

“Wait really?”

“Focus up!” I threw a drone at Peter that he quickly smashed apart. “We don’t have time to chat!”

“I can’t believe you’re here!” Peter said, grabbing me by the hand and Yeeting me right into a group of drones that I slung all together in a huge web.

“I can’t leave you alone,” I said. “Have to come pick up after you.”

“Shut up,” Peter said.

^^^^^

Peter and I sat on the top of the Shard building, stuck to it with our powers, suits and masks on. “I should be honest with you, Pete,” I said. “Mourning my dad isn’t the only reason I didn’t want to come on the trip.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

“Why?”

“Because… because I was upset that he chose you for EDITH instead of me!” I snapped.

Peter stared at me. “I… didn’t even think about that. I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine. Thanks. But I know why he chose you instead of me.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. I have too much of my dad in me—”

“Hey. That’s what makes you the best—”

“You didn’t let me finish. Dad knew he and I were super similar, but the stuff I got from my mom makes me unworthy of EDITH. And, my dad was what he always was.”

“And what’s that?”

“Always right,” I said. “My dad was always right. Because, ultimately, you’re a better person than I am. That’s why he chose you.”

“Don’t… say that…” he said.

“C’mon, Pete. Let’s go. We should get you back to our classmates so you can fly home together. Happy and I are chartering a jet back to JFK so that I’m not on a public plane.”

“I get that.”

“Oh, and Pete?”

“Yeah?”

“EDITH is a big responsibility. Take care of her.”

Peter smiled at me. “I will. Promise.”

I stood up and offered him my hand. He took it and let me help him stand. Still holding his hand, I swan-dove off the Shard.

“Whoo!” I called as we fell. I heard Peter laugh.

We swung back to the hotel. “See you back in Queens,” Peter said.

I beamed, grateful that I’d left the bottom of my face exposed so he could see my mouth smiling. “See you in Queens.”

#Always Right #Peter Parker #peter parker imagine #peter parker fanfiction #Spider-Man #Spider Man #SpiderMan #spider-man imagine #spider-man fanfiction #spiderman fanfiction #spiderman imagine #spider man fanfiction #spider man imagine #Avengers #Avengers Imagine #Avengers FanFiction #Marvel #Marvel Imagine #Marvel FanFiction

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swanqueenweek · 6 years ago

Text

Swan Queen Week 11: Soulmates - Day Two Masterlist

Fan Fiction

Fic by tahanishoodie (With Fanart)

Fic by bi-swan-trash

Maybe by theht73

Disorientating Flow by bellatrixobsessed1

Fan Art

Art by italymystery-swanqueen

Art by evilregal-swanqueen

#swan queen #swan queen week #swanqueen #swan queen week 11 #swan queen week soulmates #sqws #SQWS 2 #day 2 masterlist #day 2 #Soulmates #Swan Queen Week 11 Masterlist

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swanqueenweek · 6 years ago

Text

Swan Queen Week 11: Soulmates - Day Four Masterlist

Fan Fiction

Soulmarks by shadowdianne

Fic by inourheartsweknowthetruth

You Could Complete Me by spookycatsq

Like an Ember Coaxed to Life by helveticabrown

Fic by bi-swan-trash

Fan Art

Art by italymystery-swanqueen

Art by evilregal-swanqueen

#Swan Queen #Swan Queen Week #Swan Queen Week 11 #Swan Queen Week Soulmates #SQWS #SQWS 4 #Day 4 #Day 4 Masterlist #Soulmates #Swan Queen Week 11 Masterlist

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swanqueenweek · 6 years ago

Text

Swan Queen Week 11: Soulmates - Day Three Masterlist

Fan Fiction

I’ll Try by bellatrixobsessed1

Fic by bi-swan-trash

I Am Not a Figment of Your Imagination! by tunemyart

Fan Art

Art by italymystery-swanqueen

Art by evilregal-swanqueen

#Swan Queen #Swan Queen Week #SwanQueen #Swan Queen Week 11 #Swan Queen Week Soulmates Masterlist #SQWS #SQWS 3 #Day 3 Masterlist #Day 3 #Swan Queen Week 11 Masterlist

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swanqueenweek · 6 years ago

Text

Swan Queen Week 11: Soulmates - Day Six Masterlist

Fan Art

Fic by bi-swan-trash

Fan Art

Art by parrilla-b-liv-art

Art by evilregal-swanqueen

#Swan Queen #Swan Queen Week #Swan Queen Week 11 #Swan Queen Week Soulmates #SQWS #SQWS 6 #Day 6 #Day 6 Masterlist #Swan Queen Week 11 Masterlist

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aelin-queen-of-terrasen · 4 years ago

Note

Can I have a "If anything happened to him, I would kill everyone in this room and then myself" Jurdan please? i mean Jude being overprotective to Cardan and threatening whoever plans to harm her husband? I'd love it and I love youuu so much!

note: thank you, nonnie! Jude is certainly the overbearing mother hen in this relationship. Hope you like it. If you'd like to check out my other works, here's the Masterlist.

can I rely on you?

If Cardan doubted Jude's confession after the coronation, he was more than reassured of it after.

Jude moved into his chambers soon after she was crowned, inviting him on trips to the mortal world, taking him to amusement parks and malls and restaurants whenever she could. It was so unlike her, he was near convinced this was some attempt to seduce him into submission. That was until she asked him out on a date a few weeks later, all blushes and soft smiles when he asked what a date even was. Whatever his apprehensions were, they washed away completely when he saw the concern in those eyes when they recieved information about a threat to the crown.

Her shoulders were tense, prepared to strike as she discussed plans. "I need information. Soon." The Bomb nodded, slipping out of their chambers.

Cardan put a hand on her shoulder in an attempt to soothe the tension. "You'll be fine, Jude. You fought Madoc and Grima Mog and came out alive. And that was before you could manipulate the land to your will." He knew she could defend herself but his words failed to put his own mind at ease.

Jude chewed on her lip, then said, "That isn't what I'm worried about."

He waited for an explanation but none came. He assumed she was worried about losing the crown. However, he was proved wrong the next morning when he found her barking orders at the guards to be extra careful—his guards. He couldn't help but notice she had added more of the guards to his security team, including her friend and personal guard Fand. If she realised he'd noticed their spies shadowing him in the library and at the palace, she gave no indication but he could tell she was worried sick.

There was no going back after that.

Even once the threat was eliminated, the extra guards remained. Jude scowled at allies and acquaintances alike if they looked wrong in his direction. Weeks after, they were engaged in a heated discussion with the Court of Termites when Lord Roiben stepped towards them. As if on instinct, Jude stepped in front of him in a defensive stance, sword out and a menacing scowl on her face, the tension became palpable in the room.

Until Roiben stepped back, bowed low and apologized.

Cardan doubted it was a usual occurrence for him but if Jude looked at him the way she'd looked at Roiben, he won't have wished to tempt fate either.

"I love you, my sweet villain, but I doubt someone will try to murder me in the dining hall," he had told her once when she won't lose the frown on her face, hand resting atop the hilt of her sword. Her answering glare shut him up.

But if he thought he'd seen the worst of her protective side, he was proved wrong when a few rebels snuck into one of the revels in the palace and managed to get a hold on Cardan. Jude was on the opposite side of the ballroom but he heard her scream as if she was beside him. A blade pressed against his throat and he went still.

"Don't move a step. You make a move, use magic and I will kill him."

Jude's face was blank. Her voice dropped so low, it sent shivers down his spine. "Unhand him and we'll talk."

Cardan closed his eyes when the blade pressed deeper, a whimper escaping his lips. The pixie holding him captive chuckled. "You are in no position to make demands, sweetheart. Order your troops to stand down or I'll slice his neck clean." Either he was an idiot with no idea what the high queen of elfhame was capable of, or he had a death wish because the way Jude looked at him, Cardan had no doubt he won't leave the palace alive.

"I will do no such—"

The blade pressed harder against his neck, blood trickling out as the cold metal sank further into his skin. The captor stomped on Cardan's foot. Cardan howled in pain.

Jude snarled. The next thing he knew, vines grew out of corners of the throne room. He was shoved aside as his captor and his goons found their limbs tangled by the thick vines, faces pale and screams cut off by the lack of air supply. She eased the veins out, letting them breathe in gulps of air before she tightened them again, already making her way towards her husband. If he thought he'd seen her angry before, she looked like some vengeful spirit as she tortured them all in the middle of the throne room, bringing them to the brink of death before she let them breathe and choked them all over again.

"Don't touch him again," she said after a while. All watched in silence as she loosened her hold again, leaving them all panting on the floor. "Arrest them."

Then she was moving towards him, concerned until her eyes widened in horror. She had missed one rebel who was blended in with the crowd, the faerie shooting an arrow towards him. Jude's strangled cry reached his ears a moment too late, white hot pain flashing across his body before he was consumed by the darkness.

He woke up to her voice. "...don't say it often but I do love you. Please come back to me—I won't—I won't know what to do without you." His heart broke at the pain in her voice, throat tightened with affection as she ran a hand through his dark curls. "You left me when you broke that crown. Please don't leave me again, I need you. Please—" she brushed her lips against his forehead, then his cheek, then a fleeting kiss on his lips, "I'm sorry I failed to keep you safe. I should have been by your side, I should've seen that asshole in the crowd—"

"It wasn't your fault," he said, forcing his eyes open. "It wasn't, Jude."

She had tear streaks all over her face, cheeks flushed and a running nose. Jude nodded. He could tell she didn't believe him though.

He forced her to look at him. "No, Jude. This is not your fault. Say it."

His wife averted her eyes, a fresh set of tears rolling down her cheeks. She collapsed into sobs, throwing her arms around his neck and buried her face in his chest, mindful of the barely healed wound in his abdomen. Only here in the privacy of her chambers would she allow herself this vulnerability, this moment of weakness as she cried and cried. He didn't dare interrupt. Jude rarely ever broke down like this, and she needed to let it out before he could convince her she was not to blame. So he wrapped his arms around her, listening to her heartbeat as it slowed down to it's normal pace.

Her voice was a hoarse whisper when she spoke again, echoing in the silence of their chambers. "I was terrified. He could have killed you and I had to pretend like that didn't scare the shit out of me. I would have handed over our kingdom on a silver platter if he hadn't—gods, Cardan, I would have given anything to have you safe."

"But you didn't. You punished them all, I have no doubt." Then, he smiled. "They were rather dumb."

Jude looked up, curious. "Dumb, how?"

"Messing with the serpent-slayer? The Jude Duarte Greenbriar, who defeated Grima Mog in hand-to-hand combat, high queen of elfhame? An idiot could tell they were doomed to fail." His wicked grin stretched wider when he pressed a kiss to her fingers. "She could crush my heart beneath her boot and I would thank her for it."

"You hurtful bastard! I thought your heart belonged to me." She held a hand over her heart as if it was shattered.

His dark eyes twinkled with love and amusement. "Forgive me, dearest Jude, but my queen is the only one entitled to my heart. She is my goddess, my one true love."

Jude leaned forward, pressing her lips against his with passion. He ached with the need to pull her closer and she allowed him, tracing circles on his bare chest. His cock throbbed, seeking that friction between their bodies. The warmth in her brown eyes consumed him as she whispered in his ear, "In that case, you'd better heal quickly so you can worship your goddess in private."

His barked curses could probably be heard all through the mortal realm when she pulled back and left him alone in the bedroom, miserable and wanting.

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

tags:

@judexcardanxgreenbriar // @thesirenwashere // @nite0wl29 // @queenofgreenbriar // @jurdanhell // @mysweetvilllain //@clockworkgraystairs // @blog-lady-vi // @the-dark-swan //@storiesandschemes // @fangirltrash74 // @augustintodarkness // @queen-of-glass // @jurdan7 // @aesthetics-11 // @mijaldraws // @hades-flame // @sensitivehighlord // @annejulianneh111 // @b00kworm // @mysweetvillain // @doingmyrainbow // @curlyredqueen06 // @chaotic-fae-queen // @thewickedkings // @thesurielships //@df3ndyr // @clouds-and-peonies // @aelinfeyreeleven945tbln

let me know if you'd like to be tagged.

#the cruel prince #jude duarte #high king cardan #holly black #the folk of the air #tfota #tcp #fanfiction #tfota fanfiction #jurdan #fluff #jurdan fanfic #cardan greenbriar #cardan x jude #queen Jude duarte #jude duarte greenbriar #jude x cardan #Jude Greenbriar

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aelin-queen-of-terrasen · 4 years ago

Note

Fake dating/marriage + "Maybe, just maybe, if I get a free drink I might consider talking to you." for Rowaelin PLEASEE

note: thank you for the prompt, love! I'm so sorry this took so long. I'm a little proud of the way it turned out tho. if you'd like to check out my other fics, here's the Masterlist!

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

Rowan is exhausted by the time he reaches his apartment—the sleepless nights catching up to him. He has had a bad week and he is looking forward to spending his weekend locked up in his bedroom when the sound of a text makes him groan to himself. Rowan only knows one person who still texts him, aware of his dislike for texting. He pulls his phone out to see a message from Aelin: I need a favour. Rowan is tempted to ignore the message but given her hatred for him, it has to be something important if she asked.

He replies: What have you done now? She is a little hellion after all. Rowan regrets the day he agreed to go on a blind date with her.

Lysandra insisted they go on a date together and he had always thought she was beautiful and he'd agreed. The date had gone horrible as could be. Rowan showed up late because of traffic, the food was cold and tasteless and Rowan managed to forget his wallet home. In hopes of redeeming himself, he proposed a romantic walk around the beach and get ice cream except the ice cream shop was closed and it rained, drenching them both in cold water. As if it wasn't bad enough, his car broke down in the middle of nowhere when he tried to drop her off. Ever since, Aelin texts him after every date to give tips on how to not be a total disaster.

And gods, the woman can get under his skin like no one else ever has.

His phone rings, Aelin's name flashing on his screen before he picks up, grateful that for once she decided not to text. She says by way of greeting, "Look, I ran into my ex and mentioned I have a boyfriend. He thinks I'm shitting him and I need you to come "pick me up" so I can shove our relationship in his face. Pleaseeee?" Rowan isn't sure if he's more annoyed or amused.

He settles on amused. "And why do you need me for this? Why only me?"

Aelin huffs in annoyance and there's complete silence on the other line before she admits, "I bragged a little too much about how hot he is and now, no one fits the bill but you." Yep, definitely amused.

"You think I'm hot?"

"You know you're hot. You shouldn't need me to tell you that." Another huff from her side. "So will you help or not?"

Rowan considers it. The idea of hanging up is tempting but she's desperate. He doesn't need her hating him more. "Maybe, just maybe, if I get a free drink, I might consider talking to you." He sits up, still dressed well enough to pick up his girlfriend. "I'll charge extra for pretending to be a perfect boyfriend."

"Name your price."

Rowan only smiles. "I'll let you know when I get there."

The nightclub Aelin's at is close enough to his apartment that it takes less than fifteen minutes to get there. It's an expensive place for people with lavish tastes—the kind Rowan would never be caught dead at. Everything from drinks to decorations screams Aelin. He's not surprised this is the club she hangs out at. It's as ridiculous and fancy and over-the-top as her. He spots her leaning against a wall, her face turned towards someone.

She wears an off-shouldered black dress with a dangerously high slit in it. Her blonde hair tied in an elegant side bun, she looks prettier than he remembered.

She looks in the middle of a tense, unwanted conversation when Rowan arrived. "Aelin! There you are." He hopes his smile is convincing enough.

Rowan doesn't like the way she looks with her arms crossed over her chest in a defensive manner, her lips pressed into a thin line and eyes trained on the floor. She has shrunk into herself, made herself small and fragile and timid. She looks unlike the fiery spirit who sends him tips on how to plan a good date every so often just out of spite because he fucked up one evening of her life months ago. He decides immediately that he hates whoever makes her feel like this person in front of him because this is certainly not the Aelin he knows.

To his pleasure, Aelin relaxes the moment she notices him. "Rowan! Just the guy I wanted to see." Then she rises on her toes, kissing him on the cheek.

Rowan hoped he looked better than he felt, his insides in a turmoil even once Aelin pulled back. "Sorry I'm late, love. Traffic was insane."

She placed a comforting hand on his arm, jerking her chin towards her companion. "Ro, that's Chaol Westfall. Chaol, this is Rowan. My boyfriend." As if to back her words up, she puts an arm around his waist and pulls him closer. Rowan lets her do as she pleases.

Chaol extends a hand. "Nice to meet you, Rowan. Aelin talks about you a lot."

"Yeah? She didn't mention you much and that's saying something considering we've been dating for almost ten months now." That was around the time the two of them went on that damned date. Chaol couldn't have dated her after the whole thing because thanks to Aelin's insulting little tips, he knows about all the guys she's gone on a date with and if he's as bad as he seems, he'd have remembered Aelin talking about him.

One look at her confirms his suspicions. Aelin quirks an eyebrow when he brings her a drink. You're having too much fun with this whole thing.

Yeah, well, Rowan shrugs, I might as well enjoy this. The guy's an asshole.

Aelin nods, taking another sip of her drink as the three of them decided to sit down for drinks. Rowan is feeling underdressed in this place, especially with Aelin looking like a literal goddess by his side.

Chaol beats around the bush with easy questions about his job and all until: "No offense, Rowan, but you don't seem like Aelin's usual type."

"None taken. People's tastes do tend to improve over time." Aelin chokes on her drink and Rowan feels a little bad for being mean to a man he barely knows but then he remembers the way Aelin looked when he entered and the flushed look on Chaol's face makes his forget about all the shit he's had to deal with this week. He probably shouldn't be having as much fun with this as he is.

Aelin loops an arm around Rowan's. "I think we should go home now." She downs the rest of her shot in one big gulp before rising from her seat.

She turns towards Rowan, eyes shining under the dim lights of the private booth. She smells of alcohol and something sweet and floral—jasmine, maybe?—eyes shining alight with a question he can read in her eyes, a small smile playing on her lips. Can I kiss you?Rowan can feel Chaol's eyes fixed on his back but when he nods, he finds that it has little to do with pissing a stranger off and a lot to do with Aelin.

Aelin kisses him and his whole world erupts into fireworks. From the second their lips touch, there's only her and her lips and her hands roving his back and that gods damned scent driving him insane. He doesn't know why she's kissing him but Rowan is not kissing her to piss someone off or to prove a point. He wonders how this evening would've played out if that night hadn't gone to shit—if this kiss would have been real instead of pretend, if they would have lasted ten months. He's terrified of finding out.

Rowan almost groans when he pulls back. The grin on her face strikes him stupid. She whispers in his ear, "How's that for payment?" Aelin grabs his hand, leading him out of the club.

He doesn't spare a look at Chaol, doesn't miss a single beat as he replies: "Hmm, I need more for all the insults I pulled." They are almost outside when Rowan continues, "How about a chance? I want a chance to change your mind. You, me, another date. I'm sorry the last one went as bad as it did and you probably hate me and you're gonna say no, of course—"

"I don't hate you."

He's not sure he heard her right. "Huh?"

"I don't hate you," Aelin repeats. "None of that was your fault. It was a bad day is all. I waited two weeks for you to ask me out again to make up for it though. When you didn't, I took matters into my own hands to text you about the only thing I could think of."

Rowan gapes. "Pardon? You're telling me the whole tips ploy was what? A ruse?" His mouth hangs open.

"To keep us talking, yes. Besides, it was fun pissing you off," Aelin says.

He did always think it was strange how for someone who claimed to be so mad about having wasted one evening on a bad date, she sure spent a lot of time sending him tips and bantering with him over texts afterwards. He had apologized to her numerous times afterwards but he'd never considered that she might still want another date. To think of all the months he'd wasted.

He shakes his head but he's smiling. "Will you go on a date with me, Aelin?"

She chuckles, face brightening. "I can honestly say there's nothing I want more." As the two of them part ways, Aelin kisses him on the cheek. Rowan watches her leave silently, a big smile on his face. No more wasting time, he promises himself.

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

I quite like this and I hope you did too. let me know if you'd like to be tagged. If you haven't already, check out my 1K celebration.

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aelin-queen-of-terrasen · 4 years ago

Note

"Are you going to be okay?" + "Please stop lying to me" for either Rowaelin or someone from the Cadre (Rowan and Lorcan or Fenrys and Connal)

note: so like, since we need more Lorcan and Aelin brotp fics, I'm gonna do them for this one. hope you don't mind. if you'd like to check out my other fics, here's the masterlist.

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Lorcan hated how much he was used to Terrasen now, hated how it felt like home more than Doranelle ever had. In the five centuries he had been alive, he had never imagined this is where he would end up. Bloodsworn to a queen of fire and ash, as wild as she was reckless. A queen who actually cared for her people and her court. A queen who no doubt hated his guts ever since that cursed day on the beach. He had nightmares about that gods damned day sometimes, of Aelin being bruised and battered. Aelin may have forgiven him but he couldn't forgive himself.

He had tried to avoid her as much as he could, didn't want to get close to the wicked queen and had done a good job at keeping away from her until today.

"You're sure there's no one else who can do this?" he asked, hesitant.

Emrys, the cook, quirked an eyebrow at that. The storykeeper had a bowl of steaming soup in his hand. "Prince Rowan isn't here and she's sick. Do you want to be the one to tell him why I let just some servant into close quarters with her when she was ill disposed?" The man had a point. The Fae part of him wanted to growl at the mere thought of letting anyone near her, not when she was probably passed out.

Lorcan sighed in resignation before he was making his way towards her private chambers, the bowl of soup in his hand. He knocked twice on the door of her private chambers and entered when a muffled voice replied, 'The door's open.' She had likely heard him arrive with her fae senses. He almost wished she hadn't let him in.

He didn't know what he expected but the fire breathing bitch queen hunched over papers, her quarters resembling a trash bin was not it.

She had her head propped up with one hand, another holding a piece of parchment that her eyes skimmed through. She half turned in her seat and gave him a wry smile when she spotted the bowl of soup in his hand. "First my bloodsworn warrior, now my personal servant? I'm impres—" the words were cut off by a sneeze, then another and another in quick succession.

She rose from her seat, then flicked a hand in dismissal. "Thank you. You can leave now." But then she was stumbling, eyes half shut and Lorcan barely caught her in time.

She righted herself soon, pulling away from him. Her cheeks and nose were pink from the cold outside, face uncharacteristically pale and turquoise eyes lacking their usual gleam of wickedness.

He frowned. "Are you going to be fine?" It was a stupid question. The woman was trying to work when she was so sick. She was anything but fine.

"Yeah, just a cold. You'd think after all the shit with Maeve and Erawan, I'd be immune to something as trivial as cold." Her humour failed to hit it's mark when a coughing fit seized her. She said, "You can leave. I'll be fine."

Lorcan didn't know what came over him, only that she was being an idiot and he needed her to rest if she was going to recover. "Stop lying to me! You aren't fine, you should rest." He pushed her back on the chair she had been sitting in, shoved the papers aside and slammed the bowl of soup in front of her. "Finish this."

"I don't—"

"Aelin, finish this now."

Short of using the blood oath to make him leave, there was nothing she could do that would make him leave. Lorcan doubted she'd use the oath and he wasn't leaving until he was sure she was fine, even if she did try to kill him a lot of times. For all he knew, she still did want to kill him.

Aelin grumbled but obeyed. "Damn you overprotective fae bastards."

While she ate, Lorcan drew the curtains shut to keep the cold air out, lit the fireplace when she didn't light it herself and tidied up the bed, making space for her to lay down between all the dresses sprawled on it. He could call in a servant to clean all that up but his fae instincts wouldn't let anyone within a hundred feet of her until he was sure his queen was safe and protected. Whatever reason Lorcan had for taking the blood oath, she was his queen now. It was his duty to protect her.

Aelin was back to working by the time he was done. "You're not working anymore, Aelin. Finish that tomorrow."

"I won't finish in time if I stop now."

"You will," he nudged her to rise. "If it's so important, I'll help you finish. For now, you need to go to bed."

She looked ready to protest and Lorcan was prepared to throw her over his shoulder, then chain her to her bed if that's what it took. Aelin must have known that because she surrendered and moved to lay down in her bed. Lorcan watched her closely should she stumble again. He didn't want to explain to Rowan why and how his wife fell face first onto the floor when the prince returned.

Aelin cocked her head at him when Lorcan moved to pull up the covers. "What, now you're tucking me in? Are you going to kiss my forehead, then sing me to sleep next, father?"

Insufferable, as always. "Can you please stop, Aelin?" he asked.

But of course, she couldn't stop. When had she ever stopped? "You didn't even call me bitch! Look at us bonding together! Elide bribed you into this, didn't she?" A pointed look at that. "You're going soft on me, Salvaterre."

He ignored the jibes, then turned to leave the room once he made sure she was safe and warm. "I'll be right outside, call me if you need something." Then he pulled back, scanning the room for any safety hazards before he left.

Aelin cleared her throat, stopping him with a hand on his wrist. "You don't have to do this. I know you don't like me, it's alright. I understand."

She didn't understand shit. He wished Elide had bribed him into doing this or something so he could claim he was here against his will. He didn't want to care for anyone else, not now, not after all that he had done and seen and lived. Especially not for another queen, one just as powerful—if not more—than Maeve. Sometimes, Lorcan had nightmares about that too—about serving in Maeve's court still, wreaking havoc in her name. He didn't want to end up devoted to this new queen as he'd been to Maeve even if he knew the two of them were nothing alike.

Maybe it was that realisation that made Lorcan want to say it. "I've never said it before, not like this but I'm sorry for what happened with Maeve." His voice wobbled as an image of a blood drenched shirt lying in the sad flashed across his vision. Lorcan steeled himself and went on. Aelin had saved his life and Elide's countless times. He owed her this truth, "...you were a foreign queen, a stranger I didn't care about. Now, Aelin? Now, you're my queen and I promise, oath or no oath, I will always protect you." Then, just to lift the mood, he added with a scowl: "Even if you are a raging pain in the ass most times."

Aelin snorted, nudging him to sit beside her. Hellas damn him, he did. "And here I was, thinking we'd become friends after that speech."

"The only way we'll be friends is if you use the blood oath to do that."

Aelin shot him a glare before she snuggled closer, head resting on his chest as if she was trying to leech off his warmth. "It won't be the worst thing in the world to have you around the palace sometimes, I suppose," she mused, her voice muffled and soft. Lorcan didn't move even when her breathing turned soft and steady, his arm wrapped around her.

He didn't regret a thing until the court returned to find the two of them wrapped in a warm embrace. Needless to say, no one let Lorcan forget about it for the next few weeks.

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note: oof, hope y'all liked reading that. it was fun to write Lorcan and Aelin. Would totally do it again. also, not to self promote but join the 1K celebration if you haven't already!

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aelin-queen-of-terrasen · 4 years ago

Note

i would literally die for you to finish your fool me once jurdan fix please please please (also i’m weak so please give it a happy ending ilyy

Awww, thank you! I probably love you too, nonnie! 💖 I tried my best with this. If you'd like to check out my other fics, here is the full masterlist.

note: for those of you who haven't read part one, read it now here.

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𝐅𝐨𝐨𝐥 𝐌𝐞 𝐎𝐧𝐜𝐞 [𝟐]

Jude was not prepared for the incessant throbbing around her abdomen when she woke up the next morning. Her head hurt, memories from last night clouded by the horrible pain. And blood. There was so much blood. She couldn't remember what she had been wearing last night but it was not the oversized t-shirt that barely reached her thighs. The realisation dawned that she was in an unfamiliar room before Jude noticed the photoframe on the bedside table—a frame with her photo.

Cardan. She was in her former boss' house. In his bedroom.

Jude tried to sit upright, then bit back a whimper when the stitches pulled. Stitches. What the hell happened to her? She said out loud, still unsure if she was where she thought she was. "Um, Cardan? Someone here?" Her heart hammered inside her chest.

She wasn't prepared for what she saw. Her former boss had streaks of tears across his cheeks, eyes swollen and hair mussed. He had never looked worse, not even on the mornings when he woke up beside her in the apartment he had gifted her—the one she'd moved out of the moment they broke up. She tried not to think about it. Even after months, it still hurt as much.

"Jude, are you alright? Do you need something? Water? Can I get you water?" He looked around, panicked. He fumbled with the water jug, then spilled water over the table when he tried to pour it into a glass.

His hands were shaking.

Jude tried to reassure him. "Don't worry, I'm fine." The words didn't convince him, though he visibly calmed. "I just, what happened? I don't—I remember I called you but the stitches—you didn't call an ambulance, right?!"

"I didn't. I called Liliver." He handed her the glass of water along with some pills. "I was so scared, Jude."

Jude looked down in her lap in guilt. She shouldn't have called him. She had been the one to wash her hands off him when everyone at the office found out about their relationship. She had broken up and left the company, all because she couldn't hear them talk about how she had risen to the top because of the affair between them. "I'm so sorry," she said. She had no right to call him. "I won't have called unless—"

"You think that's your fault? Gods, Jude, I'm glad you did. I'm mad because you're risking your life. I thought you were done with that!" His voice rose loud enough that she flinched in surprise. He had never raised his voice before. Not on her, not on anyone.

She blinked against the tears pricking at the corner of her eyes. "I needed—"

"Money? Job? Jude, I could've helped. You know I could've helped." He eyed the space beside her with hesitation, then muttered a curse before sitting down there. His voice dropped into a whisper. "You scared me so bad. I didn't know what to do." He sounded tired. Defeated. She had never known Cardan Greenbriar to be either.

"I'm sorry." There was a lot she had to apologise for, least of all the last night.

Cardan nodded, rising from the bed. He ran a hand through his dark hair. "Right, I'll send someone with some breakfast. You're staying here until you can move around," he fixed her with a look when she tried to protest. "...take care, Jude." The words sounded an awful lot like a goodbye.

Jude nodded, even as she wished he won't leave.

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"Is Cardan home?" She asked Tatterfell.

The maid was kind to her but Jude just wanted to talk to Cardan, to apologise or to say something. Anything. He'd made himself scarce from what she knew. He hardly stayed at his apartment and even when he did, he didn't come to her room. Jude had started moving around a little two days ago but he'd refused to let her leave yet. She wasn't sure how long she could take living under the same roof with him without seeing his face.

Tatterfell looked at her. "He's otherwise occupied. Won't let anyone in." In the guest room. That's where he was.

"Take me there? Please?"

Tatterfell said, "I don't know who you are, miss, but he's strictly told me no one's allowed inside." Her tone softened at the hurt look on Jude's face. "He does that sometimes, coops up in his bedroom for days, works too much. He'll be fine in a week or so."

Jude wasn't having this. She tried again, "Look, if he doesn't let me in, we'll come back. But can we try?" She must have looked pitiful because the maid sighed, then agreed.

Jude rushed down the steps, despite the warnings. She slowed down only when the stitches pulled at her side and in no time, she was standing outside his door. Her hand curled in the air. Would he even let her in after she'd hurt him so much all those months ago? Did he hate her now? He didn't. She had to believe he won't hate her. He'd been worried for her after all.

"Cardan?" Jude knocked once. Her voice was small, quiet. She knocked again.

There was shuffling inside, then a muffled voice said, "Jude, is there something you need? Please call for Tatterfell, she'll help." He sounded exhausted.

"Tatterfell doesn't have what I need," she replied, knocking again.

There was an audible groan from inside before he opened the door to the guest room. She didn't know what to expect but a room full of files and files was not it. Jude must have looked as confused as she felt because Cardan explained, "I, ah, I was working. Turns out, my last assistant worked a lot harder than I thought. Without her, I'm doomed."

Jude quirked an eyebrow. "Is that a compliment or an offer?"

That defeated shrug again. "You tell me. If it were an offer, would you accept it?" She wouldn't. He had to know.

"I can't."

Cardan grabbed her hand as if she'd disappear into thin air if he didn't. "Jude, please? Come back. I know what happened. I'll fix that. We will—together." He brought her inside, then stumbled towards the dresser where his clothes lay discarded in a pile. A blue box sat beside the pile. Jude tried not to think about the implications when Cardan picked it up. "I was—I bought this a week before you—before we broke up. We'd have announced our engagement to the co-workers and—and you'd have become a co-owner with me. The paperwork was ready, Jude. I was sure. I'm still sure." Then he looked at her and opened the box, a beautiful ring gleaming inside. "...but are you?"

"This is insane. I don't—I wasn't dating you so we could be co-owners or something—" she was cut off.

"I'm not implying that, Jude! I know I love you. I know that if things hadn't happened as they did, this is the life we'd have had. This is the life we could have now—if you still want to." She did. Gods damn her, she did want this life. She didn't want to wake up in her bed, reaching for someone who wasn't there, didn't want to live knowing she had made the biggest mistake of her life in pushing him away.

But—"I'm scared I'll get hurt again and it will suck," she said.

Cardan cupped her cheeks with her hands, a featherlight touch at first. When Jude relaxed into it, he said, "I'm scared of that too. But you're worth that risk. What we had is worth it."

Silence fell in the room as he waited for an answer. Her next words would decide where they went from here. After all that she'd hurt him, Cardan was willing to risk his heart again. If he could find it in himself to give them a second chance, perhaps she could too.

"You're worth that risk too," she told him and smiled.

Cardan's smile was bright enough to rival the sun as he slipped the engagement ring onto her finger.

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tags:

Thank you for reading. Let me know if you'd like to be tagged.

#jude x cardan #king cardan #cardan greenbriar #modern au #jude duarte #aelin-queen-of-terrasen #the cruel prince #fanfiction #headcanon #angst #fluff #jurdan #tcp #the folk of the air #tfota #the wicked king #twk

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aelin-queen-of-terrasen · 4 years ago

Text

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐅𝐢𝐯𝐞 | 𝐃𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐈𝐧 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐃𝐚𝐫𝐤

Rowaelin modern AU ▶ Masterlist

note: sooo, i apologise in advance for what you're about to see. this chapter was hard to write so I'm sorry if it isn't my best or something.

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Rowan tried to ignore the pitiful stares he received in the diner, two and a half hours after he arrived. Aelin was supposed to meet him here but so far, there was no sign of her. He was convinced she would come, refused to accept the alternative. A week ago, if she hadn't shown up on time, he would have believed she had forgotten him. But now, Rowan refused to believe that. She wasn't irresponsible at all and she would never make someone wait for her like that. He knew her now.

Rowan was sure she was running late. Something unavoidable must have come up at home. She'd come running as soon as she could.

Another fifteen minutes passed and she didn't show up. Rowan was exhausted now and the pitiful stares from people all around didn't help at all. He tried his best to not notice the sympathetic looks people sent his way, wishing the Earth could crack and swallow him whole right there. Rowan wanted to leave, to return home and rest on his own bed, relax for a while. But Aelin had promised to meet him here and even if she was late, he knew she would come. She had to.

So Rowan waited and waited and waited for Aelin to arrive. She never did.

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Aelin didn't approach Rowan until recess when the two of them were alone.

He felt like a fool for believing that the two of them were starting to become friends, a fool for believing someone like Aelin would befriend him of all people. She had been more than cordial with him, all bright smiles and charming words but Rowan doubted she planned to stick around once the project was over with. Her absence at the diner the previous evening confirmed that.

When she approached, all his walls were back up as if the last two days had never happened. "Rowan, I am—"

"Sorry? Yeah, I've heard that before." The harsh tone surprised him but Rowan didn't regret that. He had waited for her for three and a half hours, had deluded himself into thinking she would come. When she remained silent, he added: "I called and texted and you couldn't even let me know you won't come?! I don't—I don't want excuses, Aelin. Next time we need to meet up somewhere and you decide not to show up, send me a text." And then, he was walking away, some wretched part of him delighted in the stunned silence that settled over Aelin.

"Rowan, please!" She called out. "I had a reason for being late. If I could, I'd have come as soon as possible."

He halted, then turned around. "Yeah? Then tell me what was so unavoidable."

She fell silent again, wrapping her arms around herself. Her lips curled into a frown, all traces of mischief gone from the turquoise eyes. Rowan was seething with rage but he wasn't so far gone. He said, "Whatever, Aelin. Just—don't do that again. Next time you're late, I'll leave." He left without another word.

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Aelin had never felt so horrible before. Gods knew how long he had waited for her to arrive in that diner.

She must have looked as miserable as she felt because Lorcan asked, "Woah. What's that sad face for?" His words were casual as could be but the tone wasn't. She had learned to recognise that tone as the calm before the storm, like he was preparing himself.

Aelin looked up. "Rowan and I had plans to meet up at the diner. I stood him up and he's pissed and I feel horrible."

The teacher hadn't showed up still, most of the students loitering around the room. Lorcan pulled a chair and sat down beside her. The loud voices were making her head hurt. Now she knew what Aedion and Lorcan were complaining about when she talked in her 'obnoxiously loud' voice. Groaning, Aelin buried her face in her friend's shoulder, mumbling incoherent words about having made Rowan wait.

Lorcan patted her back, ever the awkward friend. "You stood him up? That's not nice, Ace."

"It was unavoidable!" she argued.

He asked, "What was?"

Aelin sighed, voice muffled when she spoke again, face still buried in Lorcan's chest. "Arobynn—he came back drunk. I didn't—I didn't want to come out of the room. He confiscated my phone." She felt him tense beneath her, lips pressed into a thin line. She said, "If you're about to go all overprotective bastard—"

"I didn't even know he was back. Gods! You didn't even tell us." He scowled, running his hands through his dark hair.

"I'm fine. I can handle him, I promise. Most days, he's too drunk to even bother with me. We have to wait until I can move out." She pulled back, surprised to see the teacher still hadn't come. Before Lorcan could push more, she changed the subject. "Can we decide what to do about Rowan? I don't want him to be pissed at me." That much was not a lie, at least.

Lorcan gave her a look. "You could tell him the truth. Whitethorn seems like a nice guy. I'm sure he'd understand."

"No! I don't—Let's hold off on that. I don't want to scare him off." She had crushed on him for so long, she wanted him around for as long as she could instead of dumping her baggage on him like that.

"Whatever you're comfortable with," he nodded. "Make it up to him somehow?"

Make it up to him.

Aelin remembered Rowan's words from before and grinned. "I think I know how to fix this shit." Then she was running down the hallway.

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Despite Rowan's warning, Aelin was a half hour late once more. This time though, she had something to show for it. Convincing her cousin to help had proved itself harder than she assumed. After, Coach Cairn had made them wait in his office fifteen minutes before he heard the two of them out. Aelin came running over to the diner, covered head to toe in sweat, her bangs sticking to her forehead. She looked around the diner, surprised and then disappointed to find Rowan wasn't there.

He had said he'd leave if she didn't arrive on time but it seemed unlike him.

"Looking for someone?" A voice interrupted from behind. The waiter grinned at her. "Hi, I'm Sam. I, uh, work here. How can I help?"

Aelin knew Sam Cortland, infamous for his reputation as a prankster at Adarlan High—their rival school. She often heard his name in gossips and rumours but all that talk had done him no justice. He was tall—perhaps not as tall as Rowan or Lorcan—but taller than Aelin. With bronze hair and beautiful brown eyes, he looked handsome.

She flashed him a winning smile. "I'm looking for someone. Silver hair, tall and muscular, permanently scowling? We were supposed to meet here."

Recognition flashed across his features. "Rowan? Yeah, he's in the washroom." He quirked an eyebrow. "You're here on a date?" With him? His expression said.

Aelin reined in the urge to defend Rowan, not wanting to assume what Sam meant. She leaned closer, smirking. "Jealous, Cortland?" She noted with no small amount of satisfaction that his cheeks had turned pink.

"If I admit I'm jealous, what then?" he asked, smiling. Some stray curls fell across his forehead and Sam pushed them back, nose scrunched up in annoyance. Something about the expression reminded her of Dorian when he fussed over his hair.

Aelin's smile widened as she reached her hand over to fix it. "If you admit that, then I'll tell you I'm not here on a date."

Sam blushed, cheeks turning a darker shade of red. He opened his mouth but was cut off before he could start.

"Really, Aelin? You have time to flirt but no time to spare for our project?" Rowan glared at her with an intensity that made her wish the Earth would crack open and swallow her whole. She didn't like him pissed at her.

Aelin started. "Hear me out. I wasn't—"

"Drop it, Aelin. I think you should leave." His words were clipped, tone harsh. It was as if the last three days never happened, as if they were back where it started. Aelin remained standing, debating what to do. "Leave, Aelin."

"I'm sorry, I really am! Hear me out once and I'll leave," she argued.

But Rowan, it seemed, was not in the mood to listen because the next thing she knew, he was walking out of the diner, a scowl on his face. There was nothing of the caring friend she had discovered on his face, not an ounce of feeling except for mild rage hinted with annoyance. His silver hair were mussed out as if he hadn't bothered to run a comb through them before he arrived. Aelin watched him from the glass door, transfixed, until he disappeared around the corner and sighed. In her attempt to fix stuff, she had made it worse.

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tags:

Let me know if you'd like to be tagged! Thank you for reading!

#throne of glass #rowan whitethorn #aelin ashryver #dancing in the dark #aelin-queen-of-terrasen #rowaelin #rowan x aelin #tog #fanfiction #tog fanfic #sarah j maas #acotar #feyre archeron #feysand #sjm fandom #aelin galathynius #aelin ashryver galathynius

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