#his Thena needs to breathe!

[softquietsteadylove]

Gil gets hurt and Thena takes care of him. We need some soft content hehehe free choice and thanks <3

"You okay?"

Thena blinked. Her vision was fading on her. She looked back at Gil, who was staring at her with those big brown eyes of his. She smiled, moving away from the edge of the loft and leaning over him again. "I should be asking you that. You need to rest."

"I am," he pointed out weakly, moving his eyes around to indicate the thorough incapacitation of his body. They had gotten up the ladder on pure adrenaline. They just needed somewhere off the ground and safe for the night while the herd outside passed, or at least calmed.

The barn doors were holding, thanks to the plank of wood they had secured after all of them holding them with all their strength.

Thena had spread out some hay. They didn't bring much with them--this was supposed to be an easy day trip for supplies. She had laid Gil down, balling up her sweater under his head as the least she could do. "Let me see it."

It wasn't as if he was in a position to stop her. He grunted as she pulled on his good arm to help him sit up, although even that caused his bad shoulder some pain. "You checked it five minutes ago."

"It was not five minutes ago," she argued with him, their voices hushed. Despite the tense silence and the low shuffling of the herd outside, it was quieter in the barn than the sterile, smooth echoes of the hospital. Not that they didn't long to be back there at the moment.

Gil let her unbutton his shirt and look at his shoulder again. He had tried to save one of their own earlier, even letting his arm be pulled out of the socket. But the herd had won, and she had pulled him away before he could be swallowed up too.

The swelling was still prominent. She didn't have anything to help with that, and neither she nor Kingo nor Ikaris were knowledgeable enough to pop it back into place for now. She wondered if they would even be strong enough.

"I've dislocated my shoulder before, y'know."

"Is that so?" she whispered, pulling his shirt away from him as if it would cause the injury to worsen. Already his skin was starting to change colour.

"I was maybe 14?--my dad thought it would be a good idea to make me join wrestling. Thought I was too timid, especially for being kind of a husky kid," Gil continued as she traced the edge of his swelling with her eyes. She didn't dare touch it. "Obviously, I didn't wanna do it."

"Obviously," she added, because of course Gil didn't want to fight his peers as a growing teen, probably just as sweet and shy as he was now.

"So, my first practice I tried to just go limp and play dead, but the other guy was not having it," he chuckled. She watched the shadows of his breathing against the glow of the flashlight. "He ended up popping my shoulder out, he was trying so hard. I was just happy I got to quit the team."

"Gil," she scolded him with a smile. The idea of young teen Gil, shy in a wrestling leotard and just trying to make friends crossed her mind. "I imagine it hurt then, too."

He let out a breath. He was careful about it. He was putting up a good front, but she knew when he was in pain. She had seen it enough during their time on the road. "I guess it did."

She frowned. This wasn't the kind of injury they could disinfect and wrap up. They still had to get him back to the car and then back to the hospital without incident. And this was the open road; it wouldn't be easy to mow a path for them back to the cars from here.

But she could do it.

Gil wheezed as she helped him lie down again. He forgot to pretend he was fine when he was moving, his face twisted in pain. "Bill-"

"Hey," she cut him off. She didn't even remember his name. They had only gone on a run once or twice before. All she had known in the moment was that Gil was in danger. "Don't."

"He's got a girlfriend back at the hospital," Gil whispered to her. He opened his eyes, staring up at the room of the barn.

She moved to lean over his face, brushing his tears away. "I'm afraid it could happen to any of us, out here. We know the risks."

They all had to know the risks. What's-his-name had signed up for supplies duty just like the rest of them had. Ajak didn't assign people roles based on whim.

Thena leaned in, pressing her lips to his forehead. He still wasn't running a fever (good). "We'll tell her together--how hard you tried to save him."

Gil shut his eyes again. There was nothing they could do about it now. "You should get some sleep."

"Hypocrite."

"Really," he wheezed again. "You're not gonna stay up until dawn just because I'm like this. We need you at your best."

Thena looked out over the rest of the barn again. She could just barely make out where Ikaris was leaning up against a pillar, although she couldn't see if he was sleeping or not. Kingo was curled up on a stack of hay, already knocked out from all the effort they exerted.

"Thena, I'm fine."

He was far from fine. He was hurt, and suddenly their days on the road weren't so far away anymore. The sting of peril was hot on their heels again. She could remember holding onto him, willing to pull off his other arm if it meant not letting go. Kingo was the one to pull them both, yanking her backpack to get them both up the hill and towards the barn.

She opened up her bag. She should have packed for the possibility of being stuck out here, regardless. They were getting too comfortable at the hospital--too spoiled. There had to be something she could use to help Gil in some way.

"Thena," Gil sighed as she pulled out a blanket. It was barely a blanket, more some ripped old sheet for acting as a trampoline if they had to drop things from a height and stay quiet. It barely covered from his elbows down to his knees. "Really?"

"I said hush," she muttered, moving on to his bag as well. She dug out the spare shirt he brought.

Gil moved his eyes as he watched her. "It's a nice idea, but I don't know if a summer gingham shirt is gonna offer much warmth."

She made sure to huff at him, pulling it on over her white t-shirt. she didn't bother buttoning it, but she did pull it closed around her. It was big enough to feel like having a blanket around her. "No complaining."

She curled herself up next to his good arm, wrapping her arms around her knees. He was right, she would need to sleep, even if it was nodding off for a few minutes at a time. But she couldn't take her eyes off the opening to the loft. Even after she had worked her absolute hardest to pull the ladder up with her, the thought of seeing something poke a gnarled, nightmarish head up and look at her-

"Thena."

She inhaled sharply. She was falling asleep by the second. Her head tilted and she nearly flinched at the dry, borderline icy look Gil was giving her. "I'm fine."

"I'm not asking you to sleep," he pleaded with her. His good hand moved until he could tug at the shirt of his she was wearing. "Just lie down, please."

She buried her nose in the collar of it. In truth, she was exhausted, and being tired made her feel cold. But more than that, this shirt smelled like Gil, and their room at the hospital. And she needed to feel that, right now.

Thena shifted her weight, lying down next to him, still basically curled in the fetal position.

Gil was most certainly straining his eyes to look at her. But he smiled. "Feels like old times, right?"

Times when she would be unable to sleep because she had something far too precious to protect? Yes, it did feel remarkably like that. It felt like when she watched him sleep the entire night after he got grazed by a bullet, or when she watched him sleep as his fever get worse and worse.

Sometimes she still woke up from that nightmare, unable to stop herself from checking if his forehead was hot.

The thought spooked her again. The next time she fell asleep she probably wouldn't flinch awake after a few seconds again. Gil was lying flat on his back, his eyes closed. His breathing seemed even. She shimmied closer as best she could. Just once more couldn't hurt.

She touched the back of her hand to his forehead; no fever. She leaned up and touched her lips to his cheek; a little scruffy, but warm and living. With that, she could lie down beside him, not resting on him but pressing her forehead to his arm, just to have some contact with him. This was the only way she could rest.

Tomorrow, she could worry about getting Gil home again.

[peppermintquartz]

Chimney is striding towards a tall, dark-haired man who is currently checking the cockpit of a helicopter. Time is of the essence, but they will still need to wait for Hen.

Tall guy has a nice ass, Buck thinks vaguely, a little distracted by all the activity that's going on around them. He wonders if the choppers get to go out every day. He would, if he were a pilot.

When the guy turns around, it is to reveal a handsome face: chiseled jaw, aristocratic nose, straightforward gaze, generous lips and - oh - a cleft chin. That face breaks into a broad smile, the lines crinkling at the eyes and around the mouth adding to the overall attractiveness of the features.

"Howie, hey!" Tall Handsome Guy hugs Chimney tightly, enveloping the shorter man in a sincere embrace. "Long time."

Wow. Buck blinks at the show of affection. When he gets closer, he sees that Tall Handsome Guy is actually about the same height as he is, but with a more angular face - that jawline is to die for - and he is broader in the shoulders. Even more handsome up close, too, which is totally unfair.

"This is Tommy, Tommy Kinard. He used to be at the 118," Chimney introduces. "Used to have a fat head, but he grew out of that."

"Thanks to you," says Tommy. He holds out a hand to Eddie and Buck.

Eddie shakes Tommy's hand first. "Eddie Diaz."

"Pleasure. And you are...?" Tommy turns to Buck.

Buck takes the proffered hand. Good God his hand is so big and strong. "Uh, Evan. E-Evan Buckley, hi."

"Hi Evan," says Tommy, smiling at Buck, the smile as warm as his hand. The name Evan sounds cozy and welcoming coming from Tommy, and for a second when Buck meets Tommy's eyes, he almost forgets to breathe. No man should be this good-looking, Buck thinks. Tommy clears his throat and his smile turns a little cheeky. "I'm gonna need that hand to fly the chopper, kid."

"Oh! Oh, right, sorry. I was just, um, thinking. About Cap and Thena."

"Yeah, we're gonna need Hen to show soon with some coordinates," Chimney says, looking antsy. "Can't go flying all over the Gulf of Mexico."

Tommy shrugs. "We'll do what we can. Wait, I see a car pulling in. Might be her. Get in the backseat, strap yourselves in. Once I get Hen clear of Melton, we'll dash. Hopefully she has a good cover story..." His cheeks puff out and he lets out an exaggerated exhale. Then he grins at the three. "If we're all arrested, can I blame it on you, Howie?"

"Yeah I really twisted your arm with the 'Please help us save Cap and Athena'." Chimney climbs in after Eddie.

"You know it's because of your irresistibly pretty face," says Tommy dryly, helping Buck get in, a hand on his elbow. "Alright, put those helmets on. Careful, Evan."

Buck manages to catch Tommy's faint frown just before the pilot takes his seat and starts up the engine, go over his checks or whatever pilots do. Tommy's concerned, which isn't a surprise. They're asking a huge favor.

But it's so cool that he is throwing in his lot with them, just like that. Buck doesn't think there are many people who would do this. Tommy Kinard really is pretty cool.

"Alright. She's ready to go when we are," says Tommy. He opens his door and slides out. To the trio, he says, "Don't touch anything. I'm gonna hang out near Melton and run intercept."

"We'll behave," Eddie says, holding up his hand like a Scout.

Tommy only rolls his eyes and chuckles before jogging away to the main hangar. Buck can't help noticing how the flight suit pulls over the man's shoulders and ass as he moves.

Wonder what his workouts are like, Buck muses. Maybe more squats and lifts.

Now, all they have to do is wait for Hen to show.

--

edited on AO3

Tommy's POV

[yanderefarm]

Can I request Ares finding out our co workers calls themselves or work wife/ other people calling them that (I hope this make sense)

yandere housewife ares

cw;; yandere tendencies

unfortunately no hot wife covered in blood this time.

ares is one of the most violent ones maybe even more violent than emil. he's just already showed you his violent side. you can't convince him to spare everyone but if you're really just friends with your "work wife" he can spare her. he just fixes it by giving her incentive to quit instead.

y/n: how do you make your voice do that.

ares: do what?

y/n: red.

ares: i don't know what you mean honey

ares overhead it when he came to your work one day. one of the line cooks said your wifey needed you to take some plates to table 5. he knew they sure as hell weren't talking about him. a familiar feeling washed over him, it was like all he saw was red. he left without ordering.

when you got home you asked him why he left without atleast having a drink. he didn't answer that, his eyes distant and cold and his lips were in an uncharacteristic frown. you figured he was just having a bad day so you fixed some leftovers for dinner for both of you.

it was over the reheated chicken parm that he finally said something after having poked his chicken into shreds. why is it always chicken parm.

"who's your wifey?" his tone was frightening and it brought up painful flashbacks.

you couldn't breathe. your hands were shaking. and the question hung in the air with the only sound afterwards being the jitter of your fork against your plate.

"...i'm not upset with you." he clearly noticed that he had freaked you out. he reached out a hand and covered one of yours with it.

"please." your voice was strained as you forced yourself to speak.

ares opened his mouth to speak before closing it again. he took a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down more. "its ok honey. im sorry i upset you."

there were tears in your eyes and your voice was barely above a choked whisper. "don't hurt her. please."

so there was someone. "i won't-"

"promise."

"... if i promise will you tell me more about her?"

you nodded rapidly.

"i promise i won't hurt her."

despite the promise you didn't immediately start speaking, clearly still shaken up. ares's heart hurt to see you like this, to think you were so scared of him. he pushed away the thoughts of this other woman and how much she must mean to you. well he did the best he could. he still bent his fork in his hand. he decided to get up and make you a cup of chamomile tea. the act of taking care of you always helped him calm down.

it wasn't until you were both sat on the couch, your head in his lap while he played with your hair, you finally spoke.

"its a joke among my coworkers. i'm always helping her with her tables and i cover her shifts when she needs a day off. so they just... started calling her my work wife." your voice was raw and broken like you were trying to hold back tears.

"... who is she?" ares tried to keep himself calm but he couldn't help the edge in his voice.

"her name is thena... she's my friend. just my friend." you turned on your back to look up at him.

"you've never mentioned her before." he cupped your cheek.

"i... i was worried you would get jealous. you-you're kinda intense honey." you reached up to cup his face in turn.

ares pouted a bit but he couldn't deny that you were right. even now it was hard to keep himself calm. he leaned down to give you a chaste kiss.

"I'll just get her fired."

"honey, no."

[myafterlifeisbetterthenyours]

hi hope you are doing okay this is my first time requesting sorry if i do something wrong if its okay with you i would like verosika,loona and velvet with an s/o that relapsed on an adicction sorry for bad English

One Step Forward...

(CW: this headcanon involves poor exploration of drug abuse and addiction.)

Verosika

Verosika knew addiction.

She'd never admit as much, but she knew what it was to be addicted. She knew that thirst. The one that burned in your chest, aching in your gut.

And when you told her you were fighting your own, well fuck yeah! She was all for it.

Of course she wasn't gonna ignore her own... desires, and funnily enough, she was a pleasant distraction towards your abstainment.

But, well, things weren't perfect on the home front.

Between her own addiction and a hate boner for a certain Imp Ex of hers, well, let's say there were more thena few fights between you.

And it'd be after a particularly harsh fight that you'd both walk off, heading to your respective spaces in your penthouse, the two of you needing space.

Itd be a few hours later, the girl walking into your space only to freeze.

She found you laid back on a beanbag, a warm smile crossing your face as you stared out the window.

Verosika would ask what the Hell you were doing, you telling her you were relaxing.

She'd barely hold back a snarl as she sighed.

She'd ask what was wrong with you... only to pause, seeing the substances on the table.

She'd ask if you really did that.

You simply turning to her, and with a mellowed expression, telling her she got to have a drink, why shouldn't you... indulge.

Verosika couldn't very well argue that point, even after rehab she was still drinking, so instead she just huffed, storming off.

Oddly enough, after you started using again, things mellowed out.

You fought less. You were more intimate. Eager and ready to roll with it.

Things looked good.

For a while.

Then you started needing regular fixes. Your 'controlled hits' became 'desperate regular hits or else you'd lose your shit'.

You and her quickly devolved into a myriad of fights, both from you and her, every fight devolving into her blaming your addiction, you throwing her own addiction into her face every chance you got.

It'd come to ahead, one night, the both of you fully indulging.

You high as a kite while Verosika drank like a fish, the both of you laughing, giggling, making out, enjoying the night together.

Of course, it'd quickly turn nasty, you and the girl breaking into a fight, the fight quickly becoming physical, even Vortex taking a step back from the encounter, letting the two of you sort it out yourselves.

And you'd lay back, faces bruised, scratched up, your eye swollen shut, both of you bruised as you lay back on an expensive couch, staring out at the city, the Hellish sun starting to rise as you leaned against each other.

Staring out at the city you'd sigh.

"We need help..."

You'd say softly, leaning against the woman.

Verosika would snort, softly nodding her head.

"Yeah..."

After several minutes you'd extend your hand, Veroiska, after a moment, extending her own, the two of you holding each other's hand as you sat there.

It wouldn't be perfect, but nothing in hell was.

If you were lucky you could get through this.

But this was Hell, neither of you held your breath, but you wouldn't give up...

Not yet.

Loona

When you met you held such a cool brooding persona. Even still, you clearly was holding something back.

You were a perpetually coin flip of cool, calm and composed, to agitated and short tempered. Honestly, it was kind of a turn on.

Not to mention it helped validate her own violent mood swings.

It'd be months of spending time together, the two of you growing closer and closer.

It was by no means a simple love affair, but the two of you grew closer before making it official.

And while initially she'd found your moodswings charming, once she started spending time with you outside of work it became kind of a buzz kill.

It'd be after a bad fight, like, you'd had plenty of fights but this was bad. Like, almost got physical kinda fight.

That being when you finally revealed you were currently in detox, trying to get off of some pretty bad shit.

She wasn't really the best at like 'squishy-feely-things', but she would try to support you the best she could. Mostly by just not being a bitch when she could help it.

You'd make some good progress, one day at a time and such.

It'd be after a particularly stressful day. It just seemed like everything was against you, not that you made it hard, lashing out at just about everything and everyone, you and Loona having it out before you'd storm out of the house.

You'd disappear for a few days, Loona genuinely concerned, more so every day you were missing.

Eventually you'd return. Walking in softly, sitting down besides her, rubbing your neck.

You'd apologise, telling her you needed to... fix things, promising to never speak to her like that again.

And much to her surprised you really did mellow out, things calming down massively, you always in a good mood.

Then found you with the needle.

You'd been extra careful not to do it when Loona was around, wanting to keep it under wraps, but she'd find out.

Of course she would.

She was pissed to say the least, asking how you could do this! How could you go back after all the progress you'd made.

You'd snap at her, growling out that you hadn't made any progress!

You'd compose yourself, apologising for speaking to her like that, but you just... you couldn't help it.

You fought and fought and fought, and in that fight you'd taken your anger and issues out on her.

You weren't proud of going back to drugs. It was the last thing you possibly wanted, but... it happened, and you'd been better for it.

Loona didn't like it one bit. Telling you as much, telling you you were only 'better' because you were high all the time and didn't have to suffer reality with the rest of them.

Thing would be icy, Loona telling you she didn't like you always drugged up, you were an entirely different person and she didn't like it.

She'd tell you she wanted the old you back, the one who tried. Who wanted to be better and suffered through every day with her.

You'd end up sat at the table, sitting in silence.

Loona getting up, placing a hand on your shoulder.

Velvette

She'd tell you she loved you. But the real you... the one not higher then a kite. The one in the real world.

And well, it'd be up to you how you handled it.

Dope, drugs, fashion and sex appeal.

All of these were Velvette's expertise.

Now, she didn't actively push drugs, not that she needed too, she sold so much just passively she gave Valentino a run for his money.

And when she heard you were going clean, she... well, she wasn't against it, she knew how drugs could fuck somebody up.

She'd watch you resist, doing your best to fight temptation, the overlord able to see the internal struggle every day.

And trust me, it wasn't easy.

Being with Velvette meant you spent plenty of time with Valentino, and that man practically lived off drugs, the tall moth demon eagerly pushing them on you like candy on Halloween.

Velvette would have to step in, ensuring you were off limits as you did your very best to stay true.

It wouldn't last long.

A year, maybe two at most.

It's Hell, drugs were more common then clean drinking water.

Literally, you could buy coke easier then you could get clean water.

And it'd be at one of the VEEs legendary parties that she'd find you caught up in the middle of a group.

Now you were always something of a social butterfly, and get a few drinks in you, and you could single handedly hold a parties attention with just that, silver tongue.

But this... this was different.

You were wired. It only took her looking you in the eyes for it to become clear, the girl feeling, well, off.

On one hand she wasn't all too perturbed by you using.

Sure, she'd rather you didn't, drugs weren't something she really promoted for herself or those under her, but you were a grown up and could decide for yourself.

But on the other hand, she'd witnessed just how hard you tried to resist.

Seeing that fire in your eyes as you rejected Valentino, gritting your teeth and composing yourself.

Not just to keep yourself clear headed, but to not fall under Valentino's spell.

But seeing you like this, it... it left her feeling off.

But it'd be in those early morning hours, you sat in the living room, still on that high, unable to sleep as you searched the room for the hundredth time.

Like, honestly, you were quite interesting on a high.

Charismatic, energetic, and well, you certainly ran her ragged in bed~

Finding you, it was clear what happened.

Velvette quickly lost any fondness for you using, but she wouldn't demand you stop, even if she'd bring up your relapse, the whole thing leaving a sour taste in her mouth.

So while she wouldn't demand 'better' from you, she'd be disappointed in seeing you slip back into a lifestyle you tried so hard to resist.

Given your lifestyle, being not only a sinner but in a relationship with an Overlord, so it's something of a 50/50 on whether or not your drug use would become an issue.

If it did Velvette would tell you off, sure to make it painfully clear that if you didn't pull your finger out, she'd be forced to either put you in your place, or cut you off.

If your relapse did become an issue, Velvette certainly wouldn't hesitate to tell you as much, demanding you pull your head out of your arse and get your addiction under control.

Not an easy demand for the woman to make, the Overlord knew how hard you tried before, but she truly felt it was necessary.

She couldn't tolerate you becoming some hazy minded junkie.

Couldn't afford a weak link in the VEEs, even if you weren't technically a 'V', if you were under the drugs spell it'd reflect on her poorly.

And while she cared for you, that wasn't something she could tolerate.

So it'd likely devolve into a simple ultimatum.

Keep your addiction in line or she'd make you go cold turkey once again.

Hey Y'all, got another one for y'all, I just wanna prefix this by apologising if my portrayal of addiction and drug abuse was offensive. I'm very limited in my addiction knowledge, so I really just did what I could with what I had.

I did the best I could, and with all that said, I really do hope you all enjoyed the headcanon.

[redheadspark]

Can you write that Druig x Fem!eternal!reader have a fighting training moment, he tease her little bit during that so...😏 just fluff

A/N - Hey! Sorry for taking so long, I had to finish my prompt session! This was amazing to write, thanks for requesting this, anon!

Soft

Summary - Druig knows how to talk, but you know how to fight.

Warnings - Some teasing and some fluff :)

“Again.”

“Seriously?”

“Yes, do it again,”

You eyed him as he was making fists at his sides, his icy blue eyes were watching you like a predator who was eyeing his game.  To him, he probably thought this was a game, which made sense since he was the one who wanted to spar with you and learn how to fight.  Properly fight, in his words.  

But for him to ask you?  That threw you off since you knew you weren’t the best fighter amongst all the Eternals.  That was left to Thena, she made fighting look so easy and almost like a dance.  Even Gilgamesh was better at fighting than you were, with his brute strength he would knock a boulder back as if it were a flower petal.

Druig was no fighter, being the mind reader of you all he stayed out of the physical fights against the Deviants.  He could control a crowd of humans instantly with a simple gaze, so there was no real need for him to get his hands dirty.  

But he was intrigued and wanted to learn, which is what brought him to you one afternoon on the Domo before you were going to go on patrol with Gilgamesh.

“You just wanna….learn?” You asked him, seeing him fold his hands behind his back and simply give you his signature smirk and a shrug.

“Better to prepare myself in case it’s needed,” He replied smoothly, you giving him a suspicious look.  Druig was always mysterious to those around him, whether he tried to be or not.  There was always something hidden within him that no one could pinpoint, and this was one of those instances.  You looked from him to Gilgamesh, who simply shrugged and chuckled as you looked back at Druig.

“Why me?” You asked, seeing him smirk at you as his eyes drilled into yours.

“I heard you’re an excellent teacher,” he smoothly replied.  Gilgamesh snickered behind you, and you felt the tips of your ears burning.  Something in your mind was telling you that he was playing games with you, wanting to get a rise out of you and make you sweat.  He was always like this with the others, with you, when it came to his own amusement.  Snide remarks, and jokes under the breath, but they were all harmless in a way.  Yet this time, just in the way he said it and in how he was observing you for your reaction, you didn’t feel like giving him the light of day.

“Fine,” You replied shortly, seeing him grin widely in return.  

“Fine,” he echoed.  But you were already thinking of a great way to teach him how to fight.

By breaking him.

“Druig, I’m not gonna keep going if you’re on the verge of breaking an arm,” you advised him as he was souring off again, his feet planted on the ground and the adrenaline still seeping through his skin.  You could see it, his energy draining him with every round you two were doing.  It was making you want to ease and pull back a bit, but the other times you tried he was pushing you to not hold back with him.  From the very start, he wanted you to be hard with him, which surprised you when you both met up together in one of the smaller rooms in the Domo that was turned into a makeshift training room.

“I don’t want easy, understand?”

“You sure you wanna request that?”

“Yes. Don’t hold back with me,”

“I can do It,” he said to you, but even his voice sounded out of breath with his hair plastered to his head.  You rolled your shoulders, feeling some of the strain yourself since you both were sparring rather hard this day.  It was getting hard for you to find a good spot to pin him down, he was a faster learner and was picking up on questions and punches quickly.  Compared to the very beginning, you would be throwing him over your shoulder within two moves or knocking him off his feet with a swipe of your leg.  He wasn’t quick or light on his feet, he mostly had lead feet and slow hands.  

But if there was one thing Druig would never do, was quit.  

He took every beating and every defeat, his skin would be covered in bruises and his muscles would scream out in strain as the days rolled by.  But he would always show up, you think that he would fold after the first week or two.  Not that you had no faith in him, you did to a certain point.  But Druig was never a fighter by nature, and for him to go against his nature didn’t seem like him at all.  

“I’m not saying you can’t, I’m saying I won’t.” You changed your wording, though now he was giving you an inquisitive look while you placed your hands on your hips.

“Sounds like you’re going soft on me,” he teased to which you raised a brow.

“This coming from you who is about to collapse in exhaustion,” You countered back, though he cracked a big grin.  You knew this was part of his game, using his words as a weapon to try his opponent off.  He did it with Ikaris so many times, along with Sprite when those two would get in a spat.  But now he was trying it with you, and you were trying your best to not let it show.

“You would like to see that, wouldn’t you?” He hummed, maybe hoping that you would smile.  But it was only giving your more adrenaline, to wipe the smirk off his face and to make him eat his words.  He saw your fists at your sides getting tighter and tighter, your legs locking in, and your eyes training in on him.

“Fine, we’ll go one more round,” You replied shortly, Druig’s smirk getting a bit bigger.  Perhaps he thought he got the best rise out of you and was going to win this little game he liked to play. But then again, he must not have known the side of you that you rarely showed the others, only in the heat of battle.  

“You know, softness does look good on you,” He said lightly.  You felt the lick of adrenaline come back over you again from his words, which were trying to shoot you like darts and trying to penetrate you.  But all you wanted to do at this point was shut him up, to somewhat put him in his place with how he was treating you.  There was no doubt you two were friends, but he also knew how to use his words to make himself feel superior.  It worked on Ikaris, on Sprite, and now he was trying to work it on you.

No. Not gonna happen

You made it across the room in a few strides, dodging the first punch he threw out with ease, and threw one back.  The sparring was brutal now, both of you going swiftly and with ease as punches and kicks were being thrown left and right.  Neither one of you were holding back, some cheap shots to the jaw or to the ribs and you dodging everything he gave you.  You did the same with him, noticing how quick he was now and simply not just trying to avoid a punch. 

But he got you in a good enough hold with both of your arms, his own arms wrapped around yours tightly as he was pressed against your side.  You tried to shrug it off one or twice, but he had some strength against him now as he chuckled right against you, almost in your ear.  His body heat longing for yours, his sweat mingling with yours, and simply being this close was enough to make you almost forget the position you were in.  The kind of intimacy that you had with the others being on the ship for so long together, you all had a connection of family and of leaning on one another.  

But this, this was different, this felt like a different kind of intimacy that you never felt before. The kind to make your heart beat a bit faster, to make your head a bit lighter, and that sense of safety being close to him.  But it was odd since he was always there, from the moment you all came to Earth.  Yet now, it felt like a shift.

“I like seeing this side of you, you know,” he said against your ear, making you almost shiver as you were still trapped in his hold, “And to think I got you all soft too,”

You glared.  That did it.

Pivoting with your leg, you pushed it up to be parallel to your body, then pushed Druig a bit to have your foot hit him square in the head as a distract him.  It worked, his grip on your arms loosening slightly but enough to have you move.  Throwing your leg back down as he stumbled from being kicked between the eyes, you know him back with your body and turn to back him.  You knocked him off his feet with your leg within a millisecond, seeing him fall on his back and you perched over him.  Grabbing his arm to pin it down with one hand and the other hand on his neck, right on a pulse point where you knew was his weak spot.

It all happened so quickly, one minute he had you pinned against him and the next he was pinned beneath you on the ground.  But something inside of you snapped, something animalistic and that wanted to prove that you weren’t going to be swayed by him.  You knew your own strength, your own worth when it came to being in a fight, and your ability.  But the way Druig was looking up at you, pinned to the ground and having no way of getting out of it, you saw something in his eyes.  There wasn’t hate, nor was there rage that you won at his own game.

Shock?  Astonishment?  What was it?

“Am I soft now?” You asked, your hand on his neck still soft enough to let him breathe but there was still a grip to keep him in control.  He gulped, you feeling it along your fingers as his blue eyes were searching yours.  Now he was hard to read, which was bothering you now since you felt like you went too far in both kicking him in the head and slamming him to the ground.  But then again, he was keeping his eyes on you.  No longer was he looking at you like some prize, there was another way he was looking at you.  Yet you couldn’t pinpoint it.

“No,” He gasped, not in pain, but out of breath.  Slowly, you were moving your hand away from his neck, right where you were feeling his pulse dancing against his skin and along your fingers.  This was a new sense of intimacy neither of you ever experienced with one another before, and it was fresh and raw and new.  Something inside of you was frightened by this, but it also felt….right. 

You released his arm and his neck, moving quickly to go back up on your feet and holding your hand out for him to grasp.  He was still sprawled on the floor, frozen like he was stuck against the ground, and had his eyes still on you in amazement.  You surprised him plenty of times in sparring sessions, yet this didn’t look like a surprise.  It looked like he was….having an out-of-body movement.

“We’re done for the today, okay?” You asked gently, seeing him finally move his arm up to grasp your hand.  You hoisted him up, seeing him nod his head and still silent as you smiled.  The mood was still tense amongst the pair of you, but it was better than how it was a moment before when you two were tangled in each other’s arms.  

“Come on, let’s get some food,” You said to him, seeing him smile in return for the first time.  It made you feel better to see him smile, not to see him scowl or seem angry with how you handled him. But then again he did ask for you not to hold back, to not reserve your strength to him.  You walked on, thinking he was behind you as you were feeling rather flushed from what just occurred.

You didn’t realize that you left Druig there, speechless with one of his hands reaching up to touch his neck where your fingers were.  You didn’t realize that his mind was turning and wandering to new thoughts, and new feelings.  

You especially didn’t realize that he was suddenly enraptured with you.

The End.

Tagging - @a-lumos-in-the-nox @botanicalbarnes @virtueassassin @saradika @heartofwritiing @pemberlyy @heliosphere8 @reader6898

[pasukiyo]

YOU'RE ALWAYS GONNA BE MINE

| PROLOGUE

a royalty au. remus lupin x princess!reader. multi-part series. series masterlist.

word count; 2,635 words summary; the princess is to be betrothed soon. but she's still so, so young, she has yet to even see the world! how can she marry a man she doesn't love, much less a man she has never even met? meanwhile, the full moon is in two weeks and remus is in the most pain he's ever felt. how much longer does he have to suffer, how much longer until the pain fades away?

so even in a different life, you still would've been mine, we would've been timeless...

‘Dear Lily,

 Things have been less than exemplary here, I’m afraid. Peter has been practically breathing down my neck as of late… (I’ve just been told off for even writing that) …and I overheard mother and father talking yesterday. They’re going to force me into marriage. 

 I know I should be happy. This is my sole purpose as princess anyway, I should feel honored to have found a suitable prince to marry. Yet… I cannot help but to feel anything but. It feels like I am wasting my life away… why can I not find a man for myself? Why must I marry without falling in love? 

 I apologise for how short this letter has been. But it is becoming rather difficult to keep Peter from reading over my shoulder and quite frankly, I do not wish to succumb to another one of mother and father’s rants. Peter is such a sneak.

 With all my love,

                                 The Princess’

 The princess sighed as she signed off her letter, narrowing her eyes up at Peter where he stood, an incredulous look upon his face as she rolled the parchment, tying it with a red, silky ribbon. “You don’t have to give me that look, Peter,” she said, fixing up the bow she had tied. “The letter is between me and Princess Lily, you don’t need to be such a snoop.”

 Peter hissed, watching the princess as she rose from the desk, dusting off the skirt of her gown. “You understand that it is my job to keep you in line?” He scoffed, following close behind her heels as she walked up the steps of the Owlery, catching sight of her beloved owl, Athena. “Your mother will be very displeased if she were to know the contents of that letter.”

 Her eyes rolled in their sockets as she soothed her fingers on Athena’s mottled brown and white head, a satisfied hoot slipping from her beak. “Which is why I trust that mother won’t hear of this,” she said, her lips curved in a cheeky grin as she tied the parchment to Athena’s claw. “Deliver this to Lily, would you, Thena?” She cooed at the owl, the creature giving her knuckle a tender nip before she outstretched her wings, pushing her body off of her perch, soaring out the window and into the night. The princess sighed as she watched the owl take flight, an envious burn in her heart. 

 “You’re lucky I am feeling extra generous today,” Peter replied and she huffed, turning back around to face him. “‘Extra generous?’” She chuckled as she pushed past him, holding onto her skirt as she made her way back down the steps of the Owlery. “Since when were you capable of being generous?” 

 With a smile, she turned her head around to peer over at Peter just in time to watch his eyes roll in their sockets. “You jest, my princess. Perhaps I’d laugh if it weren’t damn near midnight. You should be in bed, may I remind you.” She sighed as she pushed her way out of the Owlery, Peter following close behind like a shadow. “Don’t get your knickers in a twist, Peter, I’m going,” she giggled as they made their way through the garden and back into the castle, stepping inside one of its many hallways.

 “My knickers are not in a tw–”

 “Goodnight Peter! I cannot wait until the morning where you will chastise me again,” she smiled and waved at the Royal Advisor behind her, lifting her gown as she made her way up the staircase. She could hear Peter scoff behind her, her lips still curled into a soft smile as she made her way through the corridor towards her quarters, yawning and rolling her neck as she smiled at the guard outside her room. With an indifferent expression, he pushed open the door for her, stepping aside to allow her to enter the bedroom.

 The room was warm with the marmalade glow coming from the candle she had left lit earlier and she hummed at the sight of her handmaiden, Marlene, in the corner of the room, silent as she focused on the parchment in her lap. At the sound, Marlene snapped her head towards where the princess stood, pushing the parchment off to the side as she scrambled to her feet. “My princess! Let me grab your nightgown for you…” Marlene hurriedly stammered out, rushing to the closet to grab one of the princess’ many nightgowns, pulling a long, white lace one from the sea of many fabrics.

 The princess’ lips twitched in an amused smile as Marlene practically sprinted back towards her, presenting the gown for her to take. “Marlene, what have I told you?” The princess chuckled, graciously taking the nightgown from her handmaiden’s hands. “You can relax when you are with me. You make me seem like one of those stuck-up, snobby princesses that care very little for others’ wellbeing. It is almost insulting.”

 Marlene’s rosy cheeks flushed and she bowed her head, locking her shaking fingers before her. “M-my apologies, your highness,” she hardly managed to stutter out, earning yet another roll of the eyes from the princess. “Marlene,” the princess called her name again, reaching out with her hand towards the handmaiden’s chin, tilting it up until their eyes met once again. “Relax.”

 Marlene’s chest heaved when she inhaled a deep breath, her muscles visibly relaxing at the sound of the princess’ soft, gentle voice. She exhaled as the princess’ lips grew in yet another warm grin, making her way around the dressing screen and making quick work of her dress. “Do you need help with your corset?” Marlene’s voice called over the screen just as she unlaced her own corset, her muscles aching in gratitude, her waist finally free of its confinement. “I’ve got it,” she sighed, tossing the corset until it hung over the top of the screen as she began to shimmy herself out of her dress.

 “Princess,” Marlene’s voice called again and she hummed in reply as she tossed the dress over the screen as well, rolling up her nightgown until the head was visible. “The King and Queen requested you for brunch tomorrow. Apparently, Lord Sirius will be spending the day in the castle.”

 Her lips twitched at the mention of Lord Sirius and she stepped out from behind the dressing screen as she soothed the nightgown down her body. “Thank you, Marlene,” she nodded her head. “May I request that I wear that midnight blue dress, you know, the one I wore the last time Lord Regulus came around?” Marlene’s face lit up in an almost knowing grin, although she tried to suppress it. “Trying to impress Lord Sirius?’ The handmaiden couldn’t help but giggle and the princess chuckled as well, shaking her head as she made her way towards her bed. “No, of course not,” she replied. “Lord Sirius is only a dear friend. And I like that dress. It is very comfortable– you did well on it.”

 Marlene flushed and bowed her head, “thank you, princess,” she murmured shyly. The princess smiled as she tucked herself beneath the covers, gazing up at the dusty pink ceiling of her bedroom. “Is there anything else you’d like before you sleep?” Marlene inquired and the princess shook her head in response. “No thank you, Marlene,” she murmured softly. “Have a good night.”

 “Sweet dreams, princess.”

 The princess blinked up at the ceiling as the marmalade glow faded when Marlene blew the candles out, the room slowly shrouding itself in darkness until she was gazing into a void of black. She listened to Marlene’s footsteps as she sauntered out of the bedroom and out of her quarters, leaving her alone in the room much too big for one woman.

 Everything was still, the sky outside her window was black and frankly, she should have been asleep. Alas, her mind was reeling, a dark, swirling tempest of much-unappreciated thoughts. What was she to do about her impending marriage?

 Call her a sap, call her a hopeless romantic— she wanted love. She didn’t want a prince of some far away kingdom, she didn’t want to be his shadow— she wanted to properly fall in love with someone, to marry someone on her own accord. She was still so young and still had so many years ahead of her, how could she be forced into wedlock!

 The thought put a sour look on her face and she turned to her side, wedging an arm beneath her pillow to support her head. She gazed out her window at the night’s black sky, eyeing the twinkling stars illuminating it. This couldn’t happen, it just couldn’t— she’d find a way to be sure of it.

 Remus howled in pain as he stumbled through the back door of Lord Sirius Black’s manor, his muscles aching and the contents of his stomach bubbling at the pit, threatening to spill from his chapped lips. He could hear footsteps somewhere on the other side of the mansion and he hoped to whomever it was watching down on them that it was his dear friend. 

 “Remus?” 

 Remus growled as sweat beaded down the side of his face, crashing into the bookcase against the wall as he tried to regain his balance, chest heaving as a thread of saliva fell down in a string from his lips. He groaned as he blinked up at the figure approaching him, hardly able to make out the face in the darkness of the manor. 

 “Sirius,” Remus managed out, yelping at another particularly rough jab of pain in his abdomen, practically slamming his forehead down on the nearest shelf of the bookcase. 

 “Merlin, let’s get you upstairs,” Sirius muttered, grabbing a hold of one of Remus’ arms, tossing it over his shoulders as he used his other arm to hoist his friend off of the wall. Remus hissed through his teeth at the pain and squeezed his eyelids shut, throwing his head back as he tried to move his feet to aide Sirius. 

 Sirius grunted as they approached the stairs, practically dragging his friend up the steps, much to Remus’ displeasure. His belly lurched at a particular rough landing on one of the steps and he pursed his lips together, hoping the acid bubbling in his throat could be willed to stay down. Sirius grabbed a hold of Remus again and hoisted him forth, finally arriving on the second floor of the manor. 

 He rushed Remus into one of the empty spare bedrooms, practically tossing his dear friend on the mattress as he rushed for the waste bin he kept in here for this sole purpose, handing it to the man. Remus wasted no time in spilling the contents of his stomach, a sour, rotten odor Sirius had grown far too accustomed to to care about imbuing the bedroom. 

 Sirius found a washcloth and poured some cold water over it, sighing as he plopped down in the chair beside the bed, handing the cloth over to Remus once he was done vomiting. He fell back against the pillows on the bed, chapped lips agape as he tried to catch his breath, slapping the cold rag down on his entire face. He squeezed his eyelids together hard enough to see stars, feeling his heart drum against his chest. 

 “Sorry,” he managed out, his voice low and husky. Sirius rolled his eyes and scoffed from his bedside, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms over his chest. “I think we’re well beyond an apology, my friend,” he chuckled. “Besides, you know I don’t mind.”

 Remus huffed and coughed against the rag, furrowing his brow as he folded it to only lay on his forehead, pressing it down hard enough to let some of the water trickle down his skin. He sighed at the feeling of the cold water reaching his chapped lips, his tongue swiping between them just as Sirius pressed the rim of a bottle to his lips. Remus’ lids shot open and he peered over at Sirius before back down at the glass of water, practically ripping it from his friend’s grip as he chugged the entire thing down, hiccuping and wiping the little bit that had dribbled onto his chin before handing it back. 

 “Sorry if I woke you up,” Remus apologized, letting his head fall to the side to get a better look at Sirius in his night clothes. Sirius shook his head, setting the glass of water down against the nightstand, once again leaning back in his seat. “No matter, I was awake anyway,” he replied. “Was just figuring out what to wear for brunch at the castle tomorrow.”

 Remus rolled his eyes at this— somehow, it always seemed to slip his mind that his best friend was rich, and a lord for that matter. “Right,” Remus muttered. “While I’m doing my best not to die, you’re rubbing elbows with royalty. Almost forgot.”

 Sirius, too, rolled his eyes and snickered at this, “it’d do you well to remember that I’m the one making sure you’re not dying in this very moment. Wouldn’t want to jeopardize your position right now, would you?”

 Remus scoffed, rolling his head to gaze back up at the ceiling. “Right,” he murmured. “Well, thanks for helping me out, mate. And don’t worry, I’ll be out of your hair come morning.”

 “Now, wait a minute here, you’re not going to get rid of me that easily,” Sirius chuckled, leaning forward in his chair. Remus peeled a single eyelid open, glancing over to his friend. “The full moon’s not for another few weeks now, is it? And you’ve already got it this bad.”

“Two weeks, actually,” Remus sighed. “My symptoms seem to have gotten worse lately. Not even one of your million galleon beds takes away the pain.” Sirius pursed his lips, “not a million galleons, for one thing. Second, I thought you didn’t get this bad until the day before a transformation. Are you alright?”

 Remus opened both his eyelids again, cocking an eyebrow towards his friend. “Really?” He scoffed. “Oh, I’m doing just fine and dandy here, thanks so much for asking.” Sirius’ chest puffed when he huffed, “I can throw you back out onto the street if you fancy.” 

 Remus huffed, easing himself further down into the mattress. “I’m better now,” he sighed. “Just… tired.” Sirius eyed his friend, Remus’ skin still slick with a layer of sweat but at the very least, he didn’t seem prone to hurl his dinner out at any given moment anymore. Sirius soothed his palms over his thighs before pushing off of his seat, fingernails scratching at his scalp. “Get some sleep,” Sirius said as he made his way towards the door. “Leave whenever you need to tomorrow. I’ll probably already be gone.”

 Remus’ lips tugged into a smirk, “off rubbing elbows with the royal family?”

 Sirius hissed and rolled his eyes in their sockets, “piss off.”

 With that, Sirius closed the door behind him, leaving Remus all alone in one of the manor’s many bedrooms, blinking up into the black above where the ceiling would be. His muscles were sore and aching, the upcoming full moon lingering in the corner of his mind. How much longer would he have to bear this? How much must he suffer before he finally went numb? Before he felt nothing at all?

 Remus sighed, letting his eyelids flutter closed, hoping sleep would overtake him soon. He was grateful for Sirius, for having at least a comfortable bed to sleep in, unlike his own bed at home that was no better than sleeping on pins and needles. Remus let himself fall deeper into mattress, slowly but surely feeling himself slip into the arms of a deep slumber…

a/n; so uh... surprise? so sorry for my long hiatus! between college and work, i have just hardly had any time for anything, especially writing but i'm back! and with a series of all things lol but i'm so excited to finally be posting this and i hope you all enjoy this as much as i do! please either comment or fill out my taglist form in my pinned post if you'd like to join my taglist for this series!

[calicomarie11]

Evan and Tommy are sitting at the table in Evan’s loft, a couple of beers in front of them and relaxing now that the clean up from dinner is done.

“So, how’s Bobby handling retirement?” Tommy asks.

“Still fighting to come back, but he does start a temporary gig tomorrow.” Evan answers. “He’s going to be a technical advisor on Hotshots.”

Tommy looks impressed. “That’s a big deal. That show is huge.”

Evan shrugged, “I’ve never seen it.” 

“What do you mean, you’ve never watched Hotshots? How could you miss it. It’s been the hottest show on TV for the past 2 years.” Tommy’s voice is filled with incredulity as he stares at Evan. “We have viewing parties at Harbor, even the off shift crew comes in if they don’t need to sleep.”

Evan lifts a hand to rub the back of his neck and shrugs sheepishly. “I know it exists, I’ve seen the billboards, it’s just….” he trails off and looks towards the ceiling, his go to move when he’s being evasive. 

“What, did you sleep with the star during your Buck 1.0 days?” Tommy teases him.

“Not the star.” Buck takes a breath and fiddles with his beer bottle, tearing strips off the outside as he talks. “So, you are not the first TK that I’ve dated. I used to be off and on with Taylor Kelly.”

Tommy interrupts “The Taylor Kelly who wrote a tell all about the 118? That was your ex-girlfriend? What a bitch.”

“Yeah, well, we weren’t a good fit. Anyways, after she published the book it got picked up for development and Hotshots was the end result. I think she’s even working on the show as a consultant. I didn’t read her book and I’m not about to watch her show.” 

“I can’t believe I didn’t put that together.” Tommy sits back, a thoughtful look on his face. “So does that mean the characters on the show are based on the 118?” He cocks his head and studies Evan and then slaps his hand down on the table. “Holy shit, you’re Sandy.”

“Sandy?” Evan asks, his nose wrinkling adorably in confusion.

“Blaine “Sandy” Sanderson. He’s kind of the show’s punching bag. Last season an ambulance rolled over on top of him during an earthquake and crushed his arm.  This year the season opener had him trapped in a mudslide with his best friends kid.”

Evan takes a slow pull on his beer as he processes that. “Why do you think I’m Sandy?”

“Well, he gets hurt a lot, he’s a daredevil, he’s got a heart of gold, he’s a bit naive, and he always has a collection of fun facts that relate to the rescue at hand.”  

“And that’s what you think of me?” Evan asks with a frown.

“No, baby. But superficially it matches up.” Tommy reaches out to cover Evan’s hand with his own.

“Okay.” Even still looks put out, but a little intrigued. “So, what about the other characters?”

Tommy sits back and purses his lips. “Well, Bea is obviously a stand in for Hen, and Shaft must be Chimney.”

Evan interrupts “Shaft?”

“A nickname they never bother to explain.” 

Evan nods. “Yeah, we never did tell her how Chimney got his name. Who else?”

“Well, the captain’s name is Billy, but everyone calls him Cap and he’s married to a police detective named Artemis.” 

“And you’re just now putting this together?” Even quirks an eyebrow at Tommy.

Tommy holds up his hands in defense. “Hey, I wasn’t exactly expecting to see my old house on the hottest show on television. I started watching before I met you.” 

“So is that it? Me, Cap, ‘Thena, Hen and Chim?”

Tommy looks away and shifts in his seat. “There’s also Ricky.”

“Ricky?”

Tommy sighs. “Ricardo “Ricky” Noches. Air Force veteran, single dad to an autistic kid, and Sandy’s best friend.”

“She made Chris autistic?” The outrage is clear in Evan’s voice. “I know she didn’t spend much time with him, but that is supremely uncool.” Evan sinks back in his seat, a look of frustration on his face.

“There’s more.” Tommy says matter of factly.

Evan huffs. “Alright, lay it on me. How much worse can it get.”

Tommy hums and looks around the room, avoiding eye contact with Evan. “There’s a significant portion of the fan base for the show that “ships” Sandy and Ricky.”

“Ships?” Evan says, his face a mask of confusion.

“It means they think they should be in a romantic relationship. Their ship name is Randy.” Tommy says.

Evan sinks into his seat, his brow furrowed. “So, the people who watch this show, based on my life, think that I should be, what, dating Eddie?” 

Tommy holds his breath and nods. 

Evan stares at him for a long moment, a riot of expressions crossing his face, before he bursts out in laughter. It takes him a few minutes to get himself under control, the giggles rising each time he thinks he’s ready to speak. 

He finally wipes away the tears from his laughing jag. “That would be an epic disaster. Don’t get me wrong, I love him like a brother, but he has more trauma than me, and that’s saying something.” 

 Tommy lets out a breath of relief. “I’ll pass that on to Donato.”

“Lucy?” Evan shoots him a look of confusion.

“Oh, yeah, she’s a big Randy fan.  Spends way too much time on shift reading fan fiction.”

Evan lifts an eyebrow at him. “Do you think she knows?”

“That it’s based on people she knows?”

“Yeah.”

Tommy hmphs. “I’ll be sure to tell her.” 

Comments and Kudos AO3 are greatly appreciated

[jstarr86]

Pt 2

I won my match walking to the back with a smirk on my face. After the show I saw the new bloodline watching me, this new version of Solo I wasn’t sure I could trust he’d changed. Jacob scared the hell out of me forreal and the other two I didn’t know what to think forreal.

“Athena!” I turned seeing Jimmy and Jey

“What’s up with you”

“Hi.”

“Aye that was a good match.”

“Yeet”

“Thanks.”’

“Man here go dem fools.”

“Leave it alone let’s go.” I stole a look over my shoulder as I pushed the twins to go. We went to eat and was kicking it when my phone vibrated pulling it out I saw a name I know damn well I didn’t put and I knew immediately who it was Daddy I rolled my eyes opening the text

Where you at

Eating chillin

With those fools

Those fools are my friends

Don’t make me punish you

I might like it and why is your name daddy

You know damn well why baby

I’m not your baby I didn’t get a reply and put my phone down seeing two sets of eyes staring at me

“What.”

“Who the hell you talkin to.”

“No one.”

“Mhmm, you been in your phone straight ignoring us.”

“Yeah and you got a goofy lil smirk.”

“Forreal it’s nothing.”

“Sight, but like we was sayin you need watch yourself”

“Whatchu mean Jimmy.”

“You ain’t blind hell we’ve seen the way Solo and em be watching you.”

“Yeah I don’t trust it.”

“Me either.”

“He ain’t gonna do anything.”

“Thena he knows you close with us shit he use be wit us he knows our bond.”

“Don’t worry I’m fine ok, yall worry bout you guys and fixing this shit with ya cousin.”

“As long as he respectful we will be good.” Josh said.

“You know they gonna try get yall with wargames, yall need figure out a fourth and fifth person yall outnumbered.”

“Don’t worry we got it.”

“Yo rumor is yall bout get a new title tho.”

“Hope so.” We finished up and headed back to the hotel I showered and had just put lotion on when persistent knocking hit my door. I tossed my clothes on opening it as I saw Tama “can I help you .”

“Yeah.” He pushed past me and I let the door shut. Turning I was met by his lips as he lifted me in his arms my back against the wall. In little time he was buried inside me my face in his neck muffling moans “been thinking bout you all damn day”

“Tama.” I whined out his breathe in my ear. My thong dangling precariously from my ankle as his dick drove into me, hitting that spot that damn near had my eyes rolling back into my head. “I’m gonna cum.” I moaned head in his neck kissing it hiding my moan as my hair fell in my face. My ass in his hands as he gave deep grinding strokes that left me a shaking mess in his arms his breath in my ear as he lowly growled as he released lightly grunting out my name. “Mm hi to you to.”

“Hi.” He chuckled. He pulled back letting me down as I held his shoulders my legs a little shaky. Shit I don’t know if I’d be walking straight after that one. I walked to the bed where he pulled me into him and in his lap. “Hope you ain’t think I was done mama, lemme see you ride my dick.”

“Mmm.” I moaned out shit I don’t know if I could take him. My fingers weaving into his short hair as we kissed him grunting as I gently nipped his lip with my teeth the action making him slap my ass. His hands gripping my hips as I rolled mine against him, moaning at the feel of him inside me. He sat up wrapping his lips around my nipple. “Fuck.”

I woke up the next morning sore but relaxed. The sun waking me as I curled into the warm body next to me.

“Morning sexy.”

“Mm morning.” I muttered. I peeked a eye at the clock seeing the time. I was tired we were at it for hours and it felt like I’d just went to sleep

“You sleep ok.”

“Mhmm.”

“You gon have let me go. I got a flight.” I silently let go as he stood kissing my head before I heard him leave.

I got stopped by H.

“Hey I need to see you.”

“What’s up?”

“You are gonna be part of the women’s wargames match and we are debuting a new title the women’s US title and we will have a tournament you will win.”

“What?”

“Congratulations.”

“Thank you.” I smirked leaving his office bouncing down the hallway.

“What you so happy for.”

“Dammit.” I said jumping looking over and seeing the new bloodline. “Stop doing that creppy shit asshole.”

“Who you talking to shawty.”

“Clearly yall damn fuckin creep in like a horror movie.”

“Athena.”

“What Solo.” I said annoyed

“Watch yourself.”

“You sound like your brothers.”

“Oh really.”

“Yeah they say the same shit but I think if you was gonna hurt me you already would have but whatever your playin at I ain’t a part of. All that family drama yall can have fun with I got my own shit to do.”

“Ya know Thena you could be really successful, hell we both know you got talent, drive-“

“Solo I’m not joking the bloodline; either of them.” I walked off

A FEW WEEKS LATER

Tama and I had been fucking for weeks now. Hell his smart ass had even cornered me at work and took my in the backseat of Solos precious SUV. I couldn’t really get enough of his sexy ass and the way he could be gentle yet rough was addictive. He could make love to you or slam you against a wall with his hand around your throat until you couldn’t function. They’d been beating the OG bloodlines ass and Roman had been pissed. I saw him call Paul as it went to voicemail and he tripped and I stopped by his locker room.

“What’s up Athena.”

“Can’t get ahold of your wiseman.”

“No he it’s -“

“Breathe and chill first off you got this you just gotta not let your ego control your actions and secondly in case you haven’t really been paying attention he tried calling you one night, Solo took the phone and smashed it, he can’t answer a broken phone Ro.”

“Shit I didn’t even think of that, thank you.”

“Cause you’re stressed and you’re welcome.”

“See your in the tournament for the new title.”

“Yeah”

“Maybe once you win you can come join-“

“No, like I told Solo I’m not in this shit it’s y’all’s drama I’m not going to join either version of the bloodline. Later.”

Raw was going good. We had wargames coming up. Liv, Raquel, Nia, Tiffany and Candace against myself, Naomi, Bianca, Jade and a returning Rhea. I did hate that the way the new tournament was set up it could be myself versus Bianca and Jade vs Naomi and the winners facing each other. But it was what it was and that friendship could resume after. The bloodline stuff was crazy but Tamas wild and sexy ass. Late nights and early mornings I knew we were walking on thin ice.

“Sup princess”.

“Tama.” I said swatting his arm. He’d pushed me into a room and I’d quickly deduced what room it was. “Let me go.”

“Fuck that they doing something anyway.”

“So.”

“So.” Before I could fathom he had me on the couch in the locker room. Groaning as he slid inside me. “Fuck Athena.” He grunted. “Wet as fuck.” I smirked sliding my hands down his stomach before wrapping my arms around his shoulders and moving my hips making him hit deeper.

“You don’t have time to be gentle you can do that later.”

“Hmm just try to not be loud.”

“Fuck daddy.”

“Damn right.” He kissed me roughly “mmm I feel you, you bout cum.”

“Shut up.” I moaned.

“WHAT THE FUCK!” We pulled back looking at each other wide eyed before our heads snapped to the door

[girlsn0t]

rest - ep/ic snz, t/elemachus and a/thena

baby's first (published) snzfic. i'm not proofreading this and you can't make me <3

rest- telemachus has come down with a cold. athena keeps him company.

contains: non-graphic mess.

“Is it not standard for mortals to rest when their bodies are weakened by such ailments?”

Lady Athena’s question is rhetorical, but Telemachus answers anyway, though he does not look up from the chlamys on his lap. “It is, but the mending will not complete itself!”

The aforementioned pile of garments could easily be tended to by any number of the palace’s servants, but Athena knows that the prince is loathe to depend upon the servants. Not to mention, many of these garments and pieces of training armor are in rough shape because of his sudden interest in combat. Queen Penelope has never discouraged Telemachus from learning the swordsmanship that all young Greek men ought to know, but given recent events…well, it is no surprise that she would want her son to stay away from the training ring for a bit. Telemachus’ shoulder is still healing from his encounter with Antinous.

“Besides, what else would I be- snf!- doing right now? Just…laying around…” Telemachus’ sentence trails off, syllables becoming wandering, congested exhales. His expression goes lax. Tired blue eyes close and the prince’s reddened nostrils flare as he hitches. “Dhh…hheh…doiih…hhh- hhH’EEHHGTSHHh!” 

A violent, spraying sneeze is caught in a rapidly-snatched handkerchief, already damp from several previous fits. Congestion crackles in his sinuses with each sneeze, warping the sound and soaking the handkerchief. “HEHHGHT’SHhhu! Hh’GHshhh!”

Telemachus blows thickly into the handkerchief. Lady Athena has become quite accustomed to this cycle in the past day or two. With his immune system occupied by the myriad of lacerations and bruises left by Antinous, the prince had caught a dreadful cold that had gone straight to his nose. Athena was not vulnerable to such afflictions and studied this one curiously. What a maddening condition it seemed to be- Telemachus could hardly go a few minutes without being seized by drawn-out, torturous fits of loud, spraying sneezes. Speaking but a handful of sentences would make him cough, and he was frequently overtaken by bouts of fatigue, during which he would fall asleep propped upright by several pillows, a damp handkerchief still clutched loosely in one hand, breathing laboriously through parted lips. 

At least there was no fever, and therefore no reason to suspect infection festering in the wounds. Just a truly terrible head cold. 

With the itch in his inflamed sinuses temporarily mitigated, Telemachus is finally able to complete his thought. “Amb I just mbeant to lie around, doing ndothing?” 

“I believe that is how resting is oft defined, yes,” Lady Athena replies, a bit exasperated. The grey-eyed goddess sorts through the mending pile and examines one of the gauntlets, thin leather in need of patching after a training blade had cut through it. “You’re still raising your forearms to block.”

“I kdnow.” Telemachus sniffles harshly and yanks the thread through his chlamys. Athena purses her lips, observing the subtle signs of frustration. The prince always had a sword at his side, but had insisted upon training for a scenario in which he was unarmed, against an armed assailant. It was indeed an important skillset, and Athena had begun training Telemachus privately some nights- but the young prince often reacted with impulsive fear, throwing up his arms to block his face when a blade came towards him.

Fear, frustration, colds…what curious mortal experiences. Athena tilts her head and watches as Telemachus ties a knot at the end of his stitches and cuts the thread with a small knife. The mended garment is set aside and another one is selected.

“You will learn, in time,” Athena says softly. Telemachus does not look up at her. 

He lowers the needle and thread to his lap, each breath slow and defined. His shoulders quiver, and Athena instinctively moves forward to place a comforting hand on the back of his neck.

“I-”

“HH’AHHTSHUU!”

A violent sneeze tears through Telemachus. He wrenches to the side, away from Athena, but she can still make out some of the spray in the afternoon light. Athena sighs, lips quirking upwards in fond exasperation, and she steps away to rummage through a drawer. 

“Mby aaahh- ahh!- a-apo…” Telemachus ducks forward again, half-folded handkerchief pressed hastily to his flaring nostrils. “HhAHH’DTSHHuu! AHHDD’TSHhh! Hh’AHGSHhhh!” 

“Here.” Athena extends a clean handkerchief to the prince. He manages to open one teary eye for long enough to see it and grab it before another sneeze overtakes him.

“EHHG’Hhhtsh!!” A thick, crackling cough interrupts the fit, now muffled into the folds of the handkerchief. “HhhhHH- HHhh! Nhh…”

A final sneeze seems to slip away at the last moment, leaving Telemachus hitching into the handkerchief, bleary-eyed and breathless. Athena watches with sympathy as he catches his breath and blows with a loud, undignified gurgle. The prince folds the handkerchief over and blows his flooded nose a couple more times before finally raising his head. His nostrils are a deep, angry shade of red, trailing down to his upper lip, and a sheen of moisture clings to them. 

“Mby apologies…”

“Keep them,” Lady Athena responds with a dismissive wave of her hand. After a moment of calculation, she continues, “I know you wish to be productive, but perhaps some rest is in order. You cannot return to training until you recover, after all.” 

“...perhaps,” Telemachus concedes with another marshy sniffle. He rises, a little unsteadily, and retreats to bed. Athena draws a heavy curtain over the windows of his chambers as he settles under the covers, handkerchief still in hand. “Thangk you, Lady Athenda.”

“Of course,” The goddess responds, soft- almost tender, almost caring. “Rest well, prince. I shall be here when you wake.” 

[leahnardo-da-veggie]

The Tragedy of Love, Death and Maggots part 6

Part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5

We were at the border to the cultists' territory when Mrin stopped us. “Athena was here,” she told us. “Look at the markings on the wall.”

Indeed, there were nasty little marks on the off-white walls, in the shape of rather inappropriate and anatomical figures. The only person who would have the immaturity to do such a thing, as well as the guts to do it in the heart of the cultists' lair, would be that damned girl.

I sighed. “Of course it's her. Who else would draw dicks on the walls of hell?” I shook my head. “Fool child. Do you have any idea how long ago she passed through here?” For all that she had one eye, Mrin's sight served her better than the rest of ours combined. If anyone could figure it out, it would be her. 

“What am I, your blood hound? I can't tell-” she stopped and took a closer look at the markings. “Oh. She was here not long ago. Look, the ink on the wall hasn't dried yet.” 

“Oh, thank the heavens! We might be able to catch her if me hurry,” Brett exclaimed. “Come on, come on! We've gotta get to her before something else does.” His breath hitched, and that sunny smile of his cracked. “If- if ‘thena got hurt, I wouldn't be able to forgive myself!”

Ah, the follies and passions of youth. I shook my head and gave Mrin my signature grin, the one we used to exchange two years ago, back when it was the two of us and she had two eyes. She returned it, hesitantly, showing off yellowing, chipped teeth. 

Before anything could pass between us, Brett put his hands on our shoulders and pushed, sending me careening down the hall. “Hurry up,” he demanded. There was a wildness in his eyes, like an animal being chased down. “There's not much time left.”

Mrin sighed. “There's never any time, Brett. I know you're worried about her, but we can't afford to rush in. The cultists are dangerous, and if we get caught unprepared, we'll be unable to save ourselves, let alone Athena.” 

I nodded in agreement. “Besides, we don't even know where she's gone. Sure, she's here, but here can be in the congregation hall of the cultists or in some random corner, and we need time to work out which exactly it is.”

He held that look of cornered terror for a moment longer, begging us to change our minds. Then he gave up and nodded. “Alright. I take it we're scouting the lair first? Knowing her, that's where she'll be.” 

“Yeah, sure.” I started forward again, keeping up with Brett as we made our way towards the home of the greatest monsters in our little hell.

Taglist:

@coffeeangelinabox, @dorky-pals, @calliecwrites, @kaylinalexanderbooks, @shukei-jiwa

@thewingedbaron, @pluppsauthor, @cowboybrunch, @wylloblr, @possiblyeldritch

@tragedycoded, @finickyfelix, @urnumber1star, @ratedn, @ramwritblr

@vampirelover890, @possiblylisle, @illarian-rambling, @the-ellia-west, @differentnighttale

@evilgabe29, @glitched-dawn, @rivenantiqnerd, @dragonhoardesfandoms, @xenascribbles

@drchenquill, @everythingismadeofchaos, @owldwagitoutofyou, @dimitrakies, @beloveddawn-blog

@riveriafalll, @the-golden-comet, @rascaronii, @trippingpossum, @real-fragments

@unrepentantcheeseaddict, @the-inkwell-variable

(Anyone else who wants to get added can tell me in the comments, pm me, or send me an ask about it!)

[firehousefreak911]

Idk if you would write this but could you do something where the reader is bobby’s daughter and she’s a doctor but he hasn’t seen her in a long time until he walks into the hospital with Buck or something?

Dad

You were working a double shift at the hospital. It had been nothing but incoming trauma for hours. You finally had a second to breathe. You were standing at the nurses desk filling out paperwork when you heard a familiar voice.

“I’m telling you I’m fine, I don’t need to be seen” you heard the man say.

The woman accompanying him responded, “Athena is already on her way, so it’s probably safer if you get checked out”

You turned around and saw the last person you expected to see, your dad. The last time you saw him was about 6 years ago when he showed up to your dorm room drunk out his mind.

The paramedic with him saw you looking over and motioned for you.

“You had got caught, cover blown “ you thought, you put on a fake smile and walk over.

“Hi, I’m Doctor…”you began when he cut you off.

“Y/n?” He said looking hopeful. He had tried many times to reach out since he got sober but you stopped trusting him and his apologies.

“You look good” you said finally looking him in the eyes.

“Do you know each other?” Asked who you figured was Hen.

“Yeah, I’m his daughter” you said. You could tell that your dad wanted to hide. He never did well in situations like this.

“So what brings you in Captain Nash?” You ask trying to push everything away, hoping it’s not the alcohol and pills again. Hen excused herself.

“The floor I was on collapsed and I landed wrong” he said holding up a wounded wrist.

“I’m 5 years clean” he said, trying to start a conversation.

“That’s good” you said not wanting to cave.

“I tried reaching out over the years” he pushed.

You we’re trying your best not to show emotion. You heard a voice outside the curtain.

“I know” you reply.

“Well I thought it would be best if you found out from me” he started and was cut off with a beautiful woman entering the area.

“Bobby? Are you ok?” She asked, grabbing his shoulder.

“Yeah, Thena, I actually want you to meet someone” Bobby looked at this woman with so much love. It was the same look he gave your mother. It shattered you.

“this is Dr. Y/n Nash, my daughter, and this is my wife, Athena” he says introducing you.

You couldn’t help it. You run from the area and find the break room.

—

“I’m sure she’ll come around Bobby” Athena said , caressing Bobby’s good hand with her free one, as she drove home. A nurse ended up coming in a finishing up with him.

“I dont know if she will Athena, it’s been 6 years since I saw her and I was so drunk I don’t remember what happened. I’ve been trying to fix it for years, I screwed up big time and I should’ve tried harder to fix it” he said

“Bobby you have paid for your mistakes and you fight like hell everyday. But maybe she just hasn’t seen that yet.” Athena said.

Bobby nodded silently.

—back at the hospital you wipe off your face and exit the break room. Maria, the nurse who took over for you, walked up to you.

“I know you don’t want to talk to him but he asked me to give you this” she handed you a piece of paper with his number on it.

After you shift you went home. You sat on your couch looking at this number. You don’t know when you dialed it. You heard it ring and you grew nervous.

“Hello?” You heard his voice say.

“Dad?” You asked.

“Y/!N?! I’m so glad you called” he cheered

“Um can we meet? I want to see you, we need to talk” you caved. You knew it was time to forgive him.

[softquietsteadylove]

Would you please do one more chapter for the president AU? Like Thena is holding a speech and Gil protects her from a sniper, getting shot on scene but she learns later about his status cause she is being Transported to safety?? Some intense stuff? Thank you so much love your stories never stop please!! ❤️❤️❤️

Thena looked up as Sersi approached her with gentle steps. Sersi always walked lightly but she truly was walking like a deer on a frozen lake. She had been chosen to face the slaughter. "How is he?"

She seated herself quietly. Sersi was also shaken by the events of that morning's press conference. A shooting was always enough to have anyone on edge. And for a bullet to have actually landed--wounded one of their own; everyone was anxious. "He's still in surgery."

Thena nearly curled over her knees completely in her seat. It wasn't the presidential thing to do. But she couldn't breathe. "Sersi-"

"Thena, I'm sorry," her friend whispered, leaning across the seat to rub her back.

Sersi had witnessed first hand the way Thena had cried and screamed Gil's name as she was dragged away from him for her own safety.

There was always a risk for her safety. It came with the job. But the shot was planned, came from above. Only the wind and Gil's sharp instincts had saved them all. And while he had gotten her down in time, he was less fortunate.

His name had ripped out of her throat at the sight of his blood. She couldn't control it, couldn't conceal what seeing him hurt did to her. The rest of her SS guard pulled her away and under the cover of their protection. She could remember her hands clawing to get back to him. In the end, they had picked her up in order to evacuate without her struggling against them.

Gil's body was just...lying there.

"Sersi, I can't do this," Thena repeated, nearly gasping for air. Air Force One was far, far from crowded, but she felt as if she were being tossed around in a glass jar.

"Yes, you can, just breathe," Sersi encouraged, kneeling in front of her. "He's alive, Thena, that's all you need to worry about for now."

He was alive for now. But the thought of the man she loved lying on a steel table being operated on--possibly never hearing her last words to him; it was unbearable. It was unthinkable that their last kiss had been in the office between meetings, or that the last they'd held hands was when he was helping her in and out of the beast.

How could the last time she told him she loved him be 17 hours ago?

Thena attempted to pick her head up. She blinked, but the tears were far from controllable at this point. Not that Sersi minded. She shook her head, "if he dies-"

"You can't think of that right now," Sersi tried to urge her to calm herself again. She stood, using the natural movement to ease her back into her chair properly again. "He's getting the best care he can right now. I promise as soon as we get word we'll turn right around."

They couldn't. And even if redirecting the Eagle were that easy, they were only so capable of speed. Sheer distance still separated him from her. And if things took a turn for the worse and she didn't make it in time-

"Thena," Sersi followed as she stood, unable to sit any longer. The sound of their heels was muffled on the aircraft carpet. "You have to-"

"I don't have to do anything!" It was true, that was her position as designated by their godforsaken country. And with anyone else, she might not have felt quite as bad for it. But Sersi's face betrayed immediately what her outburst felt like to receive. Thena sighed, lowering her shoulders. "I'm sorry, I just...you don't--I can't lose him."

If Sersi had wondered at all what their relationship was before - which was honestly doubtful - she certainly had her evidence now. But she came over to her again, wrapped her arms around her and hugged her as a friend, not an advisor or cabinet member. "You won't."

Thena shook her head again. She wasn't so confident, and in a rare moment like this when she could afford to be unsure, she was rampant with doubt. She hugged her friend back. "This can't be how it happens--it can't."

Sersi gave up on the empty platitudes, rubbing her back as she listened to her weepy breaths.

"I can't do this without him," Thena pulled her head up again, attempting to resolve herself. "I mean it. I can't do this - any of this! - without him. I'll go insane."

Sersi had no argument for that. Gil was her personal aide, as well as defacto security for her, and that said nothing of the fact that Gil was just the best at generally handling her. "Things will work out."

The words barely sounded like words by this point. Thena looked out the window, starting to pick at her nails. Gil would usually pick up on her nervous ticks and stop them. He could say it was unsightly for Madam President to bite her nails, and then he would have an excuse to hold onto her hand for three whole seconds.

What good was having an aircraft with the highest level of clearance in the world if it still travelled at this kind of speed?

"So," Sersi started along a different path. She lightened her tone, seating herself and looking up at her, "how long?"

Thena remained staring out the window, tearing at her finely cared for nails layer by layer. "You want the exact date?"

It was sharp and sardonic, but Sersi smiled. "I suppose not. Obviously it's long enough, though. And I'm guessing it was since before Ikaris."

That did pull Thena's attention away from the clouds below them and back to her friend. She didn't bother hiding her surprise; Sersi never talked about Ikaris in any way.

But she continued, breezing over the mention of their past with treachery. "It was easy to tell that you were close, and not just as handler and VP."

She didn't think they had been so obvious. But then again, Sersi actually had an oddly sharp sense for the dynamics people could have with each other. It was part of what made her such an asset.

Thena finally sat down again, wrapping her arms around herself, only to start biting her thumb. "It was just going to be nothing--in the beginning. It happened once, let's move on."

Sersi waited patiently for the rest of the story.

Thena sighed, "but then it happened again, and then a third time. But we always said it couldn't be more than that. We had jobs to do. And we both understood that."

"Until," Sresi prompted her, and even smiled impishly when she was glared at for it.

Thena closed her eyes, and imagining Gil's smiling face was almost enough for her to smile in real time. "He was escorting me, as always. We ended up talking and, in essence, we both determined that we were not achieving the casual intentions we had claimed."

"So, you were already in love, is what you're saying," Sersi clarified. Thena glared at her again for her impertinence, but it did nothing to make the quiet woman back down. "I could have told you that."

Thena rolled her eyes, but it did bring somewhat of a smile to her face. "We agreed to explore the potential for more--quietly."

"How did you keep it a secret?" Sersi asked and leaned forward, her curiosity pulling her in. "I mean we had our suspicions but the biggest doubt was simply 'how would you even get away with it?'."

"With practice," Thena conceded, even letting her head tilt back to the head rest. "We got good at sneaking him in and out under different covers. And it worked--for well on a year."

"A yea-?!" Sersi nearly burst out loudly, even for being within the sound cover of a jet. But she managed to rein herself in. She cleared her throat more quietly, "a year?"

Thena nodded. The best years of her life. She gnawed at her cuticle. "Then everything happened. The transition of my position was so fast and so imperative, we didn't really have time to talk about what this meant for us. But Gil...Gil said he wasn't going anywhere."

Tears sprung to her eyes again.

Sersi put the pieces together. "You did fight awfully hard to keep him as your personal detail when you took office."

Thena scoffed, "and let some stranger guard me?"

"They wouldn't be a stranger," Sersi scolded her for denouncing the entirety of the rest of the secret service. But she sighed, "but I suppose you wouldn't have been a good protectee for any of them anyhow."

Especially not if she knew she could have Gil instead.

"It had to be him," Thena resolved, going back to fidgeting with her hands on her lap. "We kept saying we just had to make it through the rest of the term."

Sersi made a face. It wasn't nearly so simple to just exit the office. But this wasn't the time, and she knew that very well. "Thena-"

"He made it!" Kingo ran out, holding up the satellite phone in his hand as if he were a horseman riding at dawn. "They got him stabilized, at least."

"He's alive?" Thena asked, although she immediately discovered she had no air in her lungs. She stood and walked towards Kingo but her knees weren't strong enough anymore.

Both Sersi and Kingo lunged for her as she fell in the middle of the aisle.

"Whoa, hey," Kingo whispered as he caught her, lowering her into a seat properly. "Gil's alive, we're already cleared to return to land and we'll put a bypass on the hospital so you can see him, okay?"

Thena gasped. She couldn't breathe, but for an entirely different reason. She accepted Sersi's shoulder as she cried, hyperventilating into her soft green cashmere dress.

"He's fine, Thena, just breathe," her gentler friend soothed her, running her hand over her hair. "Not much longer. I promise we won't pull you away until you've spoken with him."

"Uh, we really can't-" Thena could hear Kingo begin, and then cut himself off, presumably being glared at by Sersi. He cleared his throat and stepped back, "you got it, Boss. I'll tell Phastos the news."

"He's alive, he's alive," Sersi repeated to her, whispering in her soft accent like a lullaby. "You'll be with him soon."

"I love him," Thena choked out desperately. It ripped out of her just as desperately as she had cried out his name after seeing him get shot. She had to say she loved him, just in case something tried to take him from her again.

"I know," Sersi soothed. "You can be with him soon."

[fanficapologist]

Of Dragons and Maelstroms

Themes and Warnings: slow burn, enemies to lovers, blood, violence, explicit language, sexual violence, period-typical misogyny, sexual themes, smut, tension, marriage, jealousy, pregnancy, childbirth, miscarriage, attempted sexual assault, breastfeeding, major character death, divergent timelines

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon/Fire & Blood/Game of Thrones characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them.

Chapter Twenty

Maera's footsteps echoed softly in the corridors as she walked back to her room, her thoughts consumed by the letters she needed to write to her sisters, full of words of congratulation and encouragement, masking her own inner turmoil. She felt a mixture of concern, responsibility, and her own lingering sadness about the situation. But as she entered her chambers, her attention was abruptly diverted from her thoughts. A knot of unease formed in her stomach at the sight that greeted her.

There, cornered by King Aegon, stood her maid Thena, clearly uncomfortable and trapped. Her ginger braids tumbling out of her cap, her chest heaving in panic. Aegon wore a sly, lustful expression, the same one he wore during Maera’s encounter with him after the family dinner, and it set Maera's blood boiling. Her voice dripped with both irritation as she demanded, "Why are you in my chambers, Your Grace?"

Aegon's smirk remained firmly in place as he responded, his words dripping with arrogance, "It's my castle, my dear Lady. I can go where I please."

Not one to back down, Maera stepped forward, her eyes flashing with defiance. "Release my servant, Aegon" she demanded firmly, her eyes narrowing as she faced the king's brazen advances.

Aegon's gaze locked onto Maera, his tone carrying a weight of authority as he questioned, "Did you just dare to command your king?" There was a challenge in his voice, a dare for her to defy his power.

Maera's mind raced but she did not outwardly flinch. She suppressed the urge to roll her eyes at his arrogance, knowing that any further defiance would only worsen the situation. Instead, she quickly recalibrated her approach, sensing the potential for this situation to escalate dangerously. “I would never presume to command my king," she responded with a calm yet assertive tone. "I believe, Your Grace, that you were seeking my presence when you entered my chambers. Might I suggest that you allow Thena to continue her duties whilst I assist you?" She hoped her diplomatic approach would quell Aegon's temper.

Aegon turned to Maera, his eyes narrowing as he considered her words. After letting out an an exasperated scoff, the King slowly released one of his arms from the wall, allowing Thena to slip past him. There was a hint of irritation in his expression, but Maera forced herself to smile at him. Thena began to scurry towards the chamber doors, mouthing a desperate "thank you” to Maera, who then immediately thought of her own safety. She instructed Thena in a hushed whisper to find a guard and have him stationed outside her door, knowing that the situation could easily take a turn for the worse.

Aegon watched Thena go, his eyes lingering on her retreating figure before he turning his attention back to Maera. There's a smug, almost predatory grin on his face. "You're quite the protector of your servants, aren't you, Maera?"

She clenches her jaw, choosing her words carefully. "I treat those who serve me with respect, as they deserve.” Maera then gestured to a chair at the dining table, her voice still even, as if she were hosting any other guest in her chambers. "Please, Your Grace, have a seat. How can I be of service to you today?"

As Aegon sprawled in the chair, his wine-soaked breath wafting through the room. His figure was draped in resplendent deep green robes adorned with intricate golden embroidery of dragons, the unmistakeable sigil of the Targaryen dynasty. Surprisingly, he inquired about Maera's adjustment to life at court, which immediately sets Maera on edge. Wary of the conversation's direction, she replied courteously, "I've settled in well, Your Grace, thank you. I find great satisfaction in serving Queen Helaena, and I've had the pleasure of growing close to the royal children.”

Aegon leaned back with a satisfied grin, revealing his intentions. "Excellent," he said. "I wanted to discuss something with you. The Harvest Moon Ball is approaching, and I plan to go hunting a few days before it. I’ve invited some of the other Lords and Ladies to join me as well.” He reaches across the table and pours himself some wine, gulping it down and wiping his face on his sleeve before continuing. “I'd like you to join us on the hunt, Lady Maera. I'm sure the fresh air and excitement will do you good. And your King has not had the pleasure of your company since you first arrived here."

Maera hesitated, internally wrestling with her feelings of reluctance to spend any more time than necessary with the king. She chose her words carefully, aiming to maintain a façade of respect while trying to gauge his intentions. "Your Grace, I am deeply honored by your invitation, but I believe I should seek permission from Queen Helaena before making such a commitment. Her well-being, and that of her children, are my priority.”

Aegon's voice hardened as he replied, "I am the King, Maera. My authority supersedes Queen Helaena's in this matter." Aegon takes another drink from the goblet, some of the wine splashing onto his robes. “My mother will stay with my wife and children on the day of the hunt.”

Maera felt trapped. She knew that Aegon's pursuits on a hunt often involved excessive drinking and debauchery, and the thought of being there to witness such a site made her uncomfortable. Maera attempted to diplomatically voice her concern, "I am not certain if joining a hunt would be considered appropriate for a Lady of my station, Your Grace."

Aegon's laughter was almost mocking. "Oh, I assure you, Lady Maera, I won't be the one to inform your father of your unbecoming behavior. Consider it an exception for the sake of your King.”

Maera was uncertain whether Aegon was aware of her secret sparring sessions with Aemond, and she wisely chose not to press the matter. Reluctantly, she agreed to the king's request, unable to decline outright. "Very well, Your Grace. I shall do as my king commands and accompany you on the hunt."

Aegon grinned at her response before leaning back in the chair, studying her with a glint of curiosity in his eyes. "I’m curious, Maera. What does a Lady who is experienced with swordplay and hunting wear to such an event?" he mused, a subtle edge to his tone.

Maera knew that the King’s conversation was beginning to turn. so she responded with a forced smile, to end the conversation quickly. "I shall wear my riding leathers, Your Grace, as they are most suitable for a hunt."

Aegon's smile widened, and she could practically see the wheels turning in his mind. "Of course," he purred. "I do hope they cling to your figure so I may get a better look. Seven Hells, the Gods have blessed you with such curves. Although, I’m sure riding leathers won’t give me as good of a view of your breasts as this lovely dress does.”

Aegon's unwelcome lewd comments about her body sent shivers down Maera's spine, making her acutely aware of her vulnerability. Her instinctive reaction was to cover her chest, where the small white scar bore witness to her first sparring match with Aemond. As she moved to excuse herself, Aegon's demeanor suddenly darkened and he also rose from his seat.

“I do love a hunt, Maera. The anticipation of the chase is so thrilling.” Aegon took a step closer, and Maera instinctively took one back. She wouldn’t let him intimidate her, and spied around her chambers for the quickest way to the exit. She knew how unpredictable Aegon could be, especially when he'd been drinking.

As she tried to step away, Aegon gripped both of her arms with his hands, applying an enormous amount of pressure. Maera tried to shake them off but she could not. She then tried to step around him but could not. Maera's heart raced, but she maintained her composure.

Aegon backed her against the dining table, and Maera's eyes widened with fear as he continued to speak inappropriately.

“You’ve been avoiding me since that night, when you refused me. But I will not be refused again.” Aegon’s gaze wandered over her form with an almost predatory intent, his iron grip on her arms crushing.

Her voice trembled as she spoke, "You're hurting me." Ignoring Maera’s pleas, Aegon continued with his vile advances, her words only seemed to inflame his twisted desires. The King's intentions were becoming unmistakably sinister.

Fear gnawed at her as he threatened her modesty, reaching for the ribbons of her dress. Panic set in, and Maera attempted to push him away. Aegon responded with brute force, shoving her so that she tumbled to the floor, the corner of the table colliding painfully with the back of her neck as she hit the stone. He descended upon her like a predator, his hands clawing at her dress. Maera's mind raced with terror as she grappled to free herself, but Aegon's strength was overwhelming. Fear coursed through her veins as Aegon attempted to lift her skirts. Maera struggled, writhed, and fought against him as hard as she could, but to no avail.

"Get the fuck off me!" Desperation clawed at her throat, and she screamed for help, but her cries were stifled as Aegon covered her mouth with one of his hands.

In her darkest moment, as she feared the worst, salvation arrived. The door swung open, and Ser Arryk, the knight, burst into the room, his eyes narrowing as he quickly assessed the horrifying scene. Without hesitation, he intervened, pulling the crazed king away from her, potentially preventing a terrible violation. Maera remained on the floor, trembling and clutching the front of her dress, her breaths coming in ragged bursts and she felt an overwhelming urge to vomit from the sheer shock of the encounter. The world around her seemed to blur, her thoughts consumed by the harrowing ordeal.

Thena swiftly arrived, wrapping a shawl around Maera to preserve her modesty, offering the only comfort she could in such a horrifying moment. Maera's cheeks burned with embarrassment as she huddled beneath the fabric, grateful for the small sense of protection it provided.

Meanwhile, Aegon's fury erupted as he berated Ser Arryk with a venomous intensity, demanding an explanation for his interference. Maera could hear their voices, but their words seemed distant, as if she were underwater. Maera could still feel his grip on her, his foul intentions weighing on her like a nightmare. Ser Arryk's voice cut through the fog in her mind, explaining the urgency of his intrusion. “My King, the lord Hand has called a small council meeting urgently. There is news that Daemon has been spotted in the Vale on Caraxes.”

The news was unexpected, and the gravity of the situation managed to pull Maera partially back to reality. Aegon's demeanor shifted abruptly, his attention torn between the small council meeting and Maera on the floor. He looked down at her, his eyes narrowing, and a twisted smile curled his lips.

With a chillingly sly tone, he remarked “I look forward to see you on the hunt, my Lady,” a stark contrast to the horrifying incident that had just unfolded. Without another word, he exited the room with Ser Arryk in tow, the doors closing behind them.

Maera could no longer contain the emotions that engulfed her and let out a guttural scream, the sound echoing through the chambers, mixed with her cries of distress. Thena rushed to her side, holding her, trying to provide some form of comfort amidst the chaos. Maera screamed and screamed, as her thoughts raced around in her head. Maera grappled with the feelings of being trapped, violated, and weak, reduced to a mere plaything for the King’s amusement. The helplessness she experienced during Aegon's attempted assault haunted her, and her fists clenched involuntarily. Thena held her trembling form, rocking her gently in an attempt to provide some solace amid the storm that has enveloped her Lady.

Maera sat on her bed, parchment and quill in hand, but her thoughts were a turbulent whirlwind of anguish and anger. Her body bore the physical marks of Aegon's assault - bruises on her forearms and the back of her neck, grim reminders of the traumatic encounter. Tears continued to flow silently down her cheeks, her eyes unable to cease their stream. She wanted to write to her sisters, to offer them some comfort and guidance, but her thoughts were consumed by the horrors of what had transpired.

Beside her, Thena dutifully applied salve to the discolored bruises on Maera’s arms and neck, hoping to soothe the painful reminders etched into her lady's skin. Her touch was gentle, an attempt to bring some relief to the shades of black and purple that had now formed. Concern etched across Thena’s face, she wished desperately to comfort her lady.

"Perhaps some stew from the kitchen would do you good, Lady Maera," Thena suggested softly, placing a hand on Maera's trembling shoulder, causing the lady to flinch slightly. Maera shook her head, her appetite nonexistent. She could feel the nausea churning in her stomach, the mere thought of food making her stomach turn. Thena persisted, suggesting a slice of blackberry pie instead, perhaps a sweet treat to lift Maera's spirits, but the lady shook her head once more, staring blankly at the parchment in her hand.

Thena's eyes filled with concern as she continued her work. "My lady, you need sustenance. It's been hours since you've had a proper meal. You need to keep your strength up."

"I don't want to eat," Maera replied, her words a mixture of frustration and sadness. "I can't even think about food right now."

Tears welled in Thena's eyes as she looked upon her lady, her heart aching for the pain she saw. "I'm so sorry, my lady," she whispered. "It should've been me, not you."

Maera's eyes snapped to her maid, a fierce look of opposition flashing in her eyes. "Don't you dare say that," she retorted, her voice firm. "No one should endure such cruelty. It was not your fault."

Finally, the application of salve was complete, and Maera wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. She took a deep breath, her mind filled with a whirlwind of emotions. She looked at Thena and managed a small, appreciative smile.

"It’s been a challenging day for all of us. Take your leave and get some rest, I need to be left alone for a while," Maera requested. She also asked the maid to inform Queen Helaena that she had fallen ill and needed a few days to recuperate. The excuse would allow her the solitude she needed to come to terms with her pain.

Thena agreed to carry out Maera's wishes and as prepared to leave the chambers, Maera had one more request. "Find a knight, Thena, someone trustworthy, and have them stand guard outside my door. I… I worry Aegon might return to finish what he started.” The servant nodded in understanding and left the chamber.

Left alone in the dimly lit room, the tears still wet on her cheeks, Maera sat with the parchment before her. With trembling hands, she finally put quill to paper, writing words of congratulations to her sisters, words that masked her inner turmoil, words that would hide her pain. A bellowing roar was heard and Maera could see Ēbrion from her window, emerging from the immense cavern that served as his lair on the beach. Even from her chambers, Maera could see the moonlight reflecting off of the beasts’ scales, a mesmerizing blend of deep blues and inky blacks.

Flapping his wings sending the sand dancing across the shoreline, Ēbrion ascends into the heavens, his form silhouetted by the veiled moon. He pierces through the thick, grey clouds, and his majestic silhouette swallowed by the darkness.

[fieldofdaisiies]

gwyn x balthazar | 3,2k words | warnings: none | masterlist

"So, not this Sunday but next?" The general of the Illyrian armies raises a brow. 

Despite the kernel of uncertainty blooming in his chest, Balthazar nods. "Sounds good." 

A smile spreads over Cassian's face, his eyes lighting up a little. Finally, it will be sealed and Balthazar officially inaugurated as camp lord. It is a big step, something fundamental for the whole Night Court and especially Windhaven. Something good, something incredible. It will change many things, and them hopefully only for the better. 

"Everything was alright here last night?" Azriel carefully intervenes, asking, and Balthazar immediately knows what he is aiming at. It strings a few cords of jealousy inside of him, but he quickly clamps down on them, knowing Azriel just cares for Gwyn as he was the one who had saved her back then. They are connected through this…moment in the past and Azriel will always be important to her and that is alright for Balthazar. 

The young Illyrian quickly nods at the shadowsinger, and smiles. "Everything was alright."

He deliberates if he should say something about the incident with Otto and the other brutes, but he decides against it. He took care of it, and everything is alright — nothing to worry about anymore. 

"Gwyn is alright," Balthazar adds, though. "She seems very happy."

"You make her very happy." It is Cassian who says this. 

He rolls back his shoulders and picks up a sword, not a wooden one, but an actual one. A feline grin spreads over his face. "And now, it is time for you, the new camp lord of Windhaven, to show me how to fight. Show me what you got, Balthazar."

The young Illyrain looks surprised for only a second, but then he picks up another sword made of steel and follows the camp lord, nothing but swaggering confidence in his stroll. Where it came from, no clue, but it fills every fibre of his being. He knows he is good at fighting, and being challenged by the general seems like a great opportunity to show his skills. 

He breathes in deeply, and looks over his shoulder. At Gwyn. He just wants to look at her again and—

His eyes widen when they land on the ribbon tied around her head. It hits him like a slap. 

'Your path shall intertwine with that of your soul's counterpart. You need to look beyond the veil of common, of ordinary, through the shadows and into the light. You shall not seek with your eyes, but with the glowing ribbon inside your chest. Be open for the unexpected, the surprising and wonderful.'

The being…the being with the tattered robes and the bony figure, it had told him about Gwyn. It had foretold their encounter. The message it had told him, it was about Gwyn. Their fate had been sealed a long time ago — it had probably been sealed the day he was born. But how is that possible? This…this can only be possible if they are—

"You are coming, Balthazar, or are you scared?" the general hollers, laughing wickedly which fetches Balthazar back to reality. He wants to return to his mind palace and the thought of them probably being…mates, but not with Cassian waiting for him. It is something he wants to think about in solitude and silence. When he is alone. It is something too big and important to think about here, right now. He needs to be focused and concentrated when he lets himself dwell on the thought of them being mates… Gods and Cauldron!

He shakes his head, fingers curling tightly around his sword. "Coming."

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

"He is a good male." Nesta's eyes shimmer with happiness for her best friend. Ragged breaths are leaving her, a testament of the former hard training. 

Gwyn turns her head to look around, wanting to find Balthazar amongst the other Illyrians. Emerie, Mor and Thena are training some young Illyrian girls, guiding them through the basic training techniques and Gwyn's gaze moves further. Until she finally makes him out. 

Balthazar is following after Cassian, his expressions concentrated, and confident.

She watches him for a little longer, thinking back about this morning, about how they kissed, how she wanted him to touch her, and how he complied to her request. "He is," she whispers, glancing back at Nesta, who chuckles upon catching her best friend lost in yet another daydream about Balthazar.

"And I think I am ready for the next step with him." Gwyn inhales a deep breath, her eyes never leaving Nesta's.

"The next step?" Nesta asks and moves closer to her best friend. "So, you will stay another night?"

Gwyn nods eagerly and closes the distance between her and her best friend. She takes Nesta's hands into hers, looking straight into her eyes. "I am so ready. I really am." A sheepish smile appears on her face. "I want him very much."

"You do," Nesta chuckles and brings her best friend in for a hug, which is filled with chortles and a lot of love. 

"Maybe not yet sex, you know. But just a little more…" Gwyn can only giggle into the crook of Nesta's shoulder, not able to avoid the grin from spreading all over her face. She is lighting up from the inside, happiness blooming in her chest. 

Of course, her best friends, the training, the Library and reading bring her happiness as well, but with Balthazar she feels a different kind of happiness. Something deeper, something stronger, something fundamental.

"Are they sparring?" Nesta asks and it makes Gwyn's attention return to Balthazar and the general of the Illyrian armies. She steps out of the embrace and turns her head. "Oh Gods!" she expresses, watching them closely and then—

"He always has to be shirtless!" Gwyn practically feels how her knees turn wobbly and her body liquid when she takes in his dark skin, his sculpted chest, the tattoos now gleaming due to the thin film of sweat coating his torso. 

"Don't say you don't like," Nesta chuckles, a little wickedly and Gwyn soon joins in. Nesta definitely has a point, Gwyn does indeed like it a lot.

What is presented to Gwyn and Nesta a few moments later is a scene of camaraderie, not a battle for blood. Cassian and Balthazar keep taunting and teasing each other, sometimes one of them strikes and the other blocks. Blathazar moves with fluid grace and Gwyn can't tear her eyes away from him. His muscles ripple beneath the strain of the sparring, and she can't help but feel a rush of desire. She bites down on her lower lip, a mischievous grin dancing on her mouth, as she watches him. 

Beside her, Nesta is equally entranced by the scene. She watches her mate with glowing eyes.

The girls share a knowing glance, a silent acknowledgment of the captivating males in their lives and the happiness they share. 

Nesta can barely contain her joy about Gwyn having found her lover, having found someone like Balthazar. A male that is only good in his heart and everything he does. The kind of male Gwyn truly deserves. Nesta reaches out, and pulls Gwyn to her side, squeezing her tightly. 

And they keep watching until their males are bathed in sweat and the sun starts to lower behind the Illyrian mountains. 

It is time for Nesta, Cassian and Azriel to go home, because just like Gwyn, also Mor decides to stay another night. The good bye is quick, they all will soon see each other again, and then it is just Thena, Gwyn and Balthazar left. Well, technically it is just Gwyn and Thena, as Balthazar is still talking with some Illyrian younglings on the training pitch. 

Gwyn wants to make conversation with Thena, wants to get to know her…her—boyfriend's? mate's? partner's?— sister. 

Gwyn has been engulfed in a whirlwind of emotions ever since the bond snapped into place. It has been a challenge to focus on anything besides Balthazar. But now, she's determined to direct her attention to Thena, to leave a positive impression, and to earn her favour—after all, she's Balthazar's sister, and his love for her is evident. It is crucial that Thena likes her!

As Gwyn opens her mouth to speak, Thena beats her to it. "My brother is incredibly lucky to have met you," Thena expresses, her voice filled with admiration. "I've always wished for someone like you for him, and now that he's found you, I can't even describe how happy that makes me." Thena moves closer, taking Gwyn's hands into hers. "But, please, don't hurt him. Promise me you won't hurt him."

Gwyn would never and she wants Thena to see and know this. The look in his sister's eyes, the pain glowing so brightly makes a crack appear in Gwyn's heart. Balthazar was hurt before, is what Thena does not say. He was hurt before, don't make him hurt again. 

"I would never," Gwyn answers honestly. "I like him very much. I would never do anything to hurt him."

A smile appears on the Illyrian's face, eyes glistening. "Good, and you don't have to worry about him. He won't ever hurt you. He looks at you…in a way he has never looked at anything or anyone."

Gwyn nods slowly, her own eyes glistening, both as a natural reaction to Thena's eyes and her words. "I know he won't."

"Girls talk? Am I allowed to join?" Balthazar's tone is light, joyful. 

Thena groans and rolls her eyes at Gwyn. "You just ruined out bonding moment, you Illyrian idiot." She turns to her little brother. "But a damn lucky idiot to have found a female like her."

"The luckiest," Balthazar comments and surrounds his sister so he can curl an arm around Gwyn. He kisses the top of her head and Gwyn wants to jump up and down and giggle in delight. 

But she contains her excitement. Balthazar and her discussed that they won't show too much public affection as this makes her an easy target for the Illyrian brutes and he can't risk it. 

"Alright, time for bed, I guess." Thena raises her brows and then takes a few steps backward. 

"Make sure Baz does not get to bed too late, he needs his beauty sleep." Thena grins and winks at Gwyn. 

"I'll try my best," Gwyn answers and with a wave and a chuckle Thena walks away, toward her and her mother's hut. "Good night, you two love birds!"

"Sisters…" Balthazar mumbles and wraps his arm tighter around Gwyn's shoulder and kisses the top of her head again. 

They enter his hut and it is then that Balthazar realises his mistake, and turns her so she is facing him. "I am sorry, I shouldn't have said that. I really—" "It is alright." Gwyn bounces on her toes and kisses his cheek. "It really is. I am glad you have such an amazing relationship with your sister. She seems wonderful."

"She is," Balthazar says, "but also a pain in the neck."

He cradles Gwyn's face in his broad hands. "I still should be more mindful about the things I say, especially when it comes to you. And you are allowed to tell me off, point out the mistakes I make." He leans his forehead against hers. "If I accept criticism from someone, then from the female at my side." 

He closes his eyes and inhales deeply. There is something wet on his thumb which makes him open his eyes, confused about the impact of his words, and wondering if the talk about their sisters or something else made her cry. 

"You make me feel so important when you say something like this," Gwyn whispers, another pair of tears sliding out of her eyes. 

Balthazar looses a breath. "You are important, Gwyneth." He presses his forehead firmer against hers. "One of the most important people in my life."

A ragged sob leaves her and Balthazar's hand slides into hers. "Come."

They change quickly, and together they then lie down in Balthazar's bed, his hand still holding hers, his other arm wrapped around her shoulders holding her close. 

"I want to talk to you about something," Balthazar says, his voice tinged with empathy. Gwyn nods, already having an inkling of where this conversation might lead them. "Go ahead."

"I don't want you —I know you know this, and that I've mentioned it before— to feel pressured into sleeping with me. I know that society has certain expectations, and people believe if you are dating someone you will also sleep together a lot, but I don't have these expectations, you must know that. I like being with you, I like cuddling you, holding you, kissing you. And this is enough for me."

Gwyn rests her head on his bare chest, feeling his warmth and the steady heartbeat beneath his skin. "I know this, and I am incredibly grateful for it." Gwyn draws in a deep breath and then wiggles out of his hold and sits up. She crosses her legs beneath her, her hand placed on Balthazar's lower belly.

He folds his arm behind his head. For a moment they just look at each other, their eyes locked while the world around them fades.

"I want to…have sex with you." Gwyn doesn't continue immediately, she lets the words hang in the air for a moment, waiting for a reaction. But other than a small smile on Balthazar's lips and his hand moving over hear he does not do much. 

"I really want it. I want to sleep with you, explore everything with you. Try out many things, and stay tangled between the sheets with you for hours, for days." 

Warmth fills her, and Balthazar's skin tightens. She is blushing, her skin a deep red from her cleavage up to her hairline.

"But I am scared. I am scared I…" Gwyn's throat starts to burn, and her lashes dampen. "When the Hybern soldiers attacked in the dead of night…began their slaughter, and did…those terrible things to me, they destroyed a part of me that I am scared will never be healed. And they caused me trauma I will never recover from. I am so scared the memories will come back and I can never enjoy a moment of intimacy.“

Balthazar sits up as well, reaches his arm out to wrap it around Gwyn's shoulders so he can bring her in for an embrace Gwyn gratefully accepts. She lets herself fall against him, sliding onto his lap, head resting against his chest. And then she lets the tears run free, sobbing and she does not care one bit that Balthazar sees her like this. Sees her broken side. His strong arms wrap around her, keep her safe and sound, as he holds her against him, and will hold her for as long as it takes the for her pain to ease. 

When the tears start slow and Gwyn tips her head back, she tries to meet his gaze, but his eyes are focused on the opposite wall, a pained expression on his with tears wet face. He has cried as well…

Balthazar exhales a long breath, then lowers his chin and rests it on top of Gwyn's forehead. "You carry the reigns, Gwyneth. You tell me when you want to commence, how you want to do things, when and how we do what. We can do everything slowly, as slowly as you want to. Nothing is rushing us. And if you don't enjoy something we can always stop." His hold on her tightens. He wants to remove all the pain from her. All the trauma. Everything that was done to her. 

"But…you are also included in this, you also have to tell me when you want what. You haven't done it before either. I don't want to pressure you into something."

Gwyn, without much thinking, wipes her wet cheek on his chest, and leans back so she can meet his gaze. He lowers his chin a little and nods. "I know, and you will never pressure me into something. I want to have sex with you as well, very much, and I think I've made this clear this morning as well. You would never pressure me into something, never force me to do something, and if I don't like something I will tell you, of course." He leans in. "But I doubt there is anything you could do that I would not like." A smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. His lips touch her cheek, then another part of her cheeks and then her nose. It takes Gwyn a moment to realise he is kissing her freckles, and she giggles. 

She lifts her other hand to his on her cheek. "Have you thought about sleeping with me already?" This question is maybe a bit straightforward, but she wants to know.

"I have," he answers honestly. 

"A lot?"

"A few times. But not even half as much, no, not even a quarter as much as I think about looking into your beautiful eyes, or kissing your wonderful lips." The smile on his lips lights up the whole interior of his hut. Balthazar lowers himself to the bed again, bringing Gwyn with him. His hand moves into her hair, softly brushing through them. "Have you?"

"Yes." Gwyn turns her head and kisses his chest, the light dusting of hair tingling her skin. "A few times."

Balthazar hums and then chortles. "I enjoy being with you so much, Gwyneth." He squeezes her tightly, and kisses the top of her head. 

"And do you think I will be able to enjoy…intimacy?" Her chest heaves with a deep inhale. "You think I will enjoy sex?"

Balthazar takes a moment to think. He has no idea if he can compare these two things, but after his father had butchered all his self-made things, he thought he would never enjoy wood crafting again. But now he does. Loves is even more than ever before. 

"I think you will. With time, and trust, I think you will be able to enjoy it." She trembles a little. "Intimacy is something beautiful, Gwyneth, but we don't need sex for it. This right here is also intimate and you can enjoy it, right?"

"Yes," she hums and kisses his chest. "Yes, I can." Her eyes close, and she ponders. 

"And I think you will be able to enjoy sex. It will take us some time, but we just go slow, we can start with little things and move on form there. We have already kissed a lot, we can slowly take the next step whenever you are ready. And then we move forward from there, or pause, or stop or go backward one step. There is no pressure. It is just the two of us, and we only do what we enjoy and like."

She hums, but a little sob interrupts the sound. She cuddles tighter to him, his warmth wrapping around her, embracing her and reminding her once again about his comfort and the security he brings her.

They fall into a comfortable silence, just their rhythmically beating hearts and their soft breaths filling the air around them. 

Until, Gwyn breaks the quietness. 

"Balthazar?"

~~~~~~~ tag list: @a-frog-with-a-laptop @brekkershadowsinger @moonlightazriel @callmeblaire @headcanonheadcase @waternymphia @autumndreaming7 @devilsfoodcake22 @readercacau @sv0430 @bubybubsters @cyntia-ktn

[redheadspark]

20. whispering to them like they’re alone in the world Freburary Prompts with...Druig (No surprise here from me lol)

A/N - STELLA! I love this for our favorite Mind Controller! Thanks for requesting this, bestie!

Braid

Summary - Druig seeks you out after the near Emergence

Warnings - Angst and fluff mixed together

“Has anyone seen her?”

“Last I saw, she snuck to the second floor.  Probably needed to be alone,”

“Thanks,”

Phastos with a hint of amusement watched as Druig was making his way up the wooden stairs, rolling his eyes as he spoke up again from the loveseat where he was perked, “You know she might have gone off to be…I don’t know…alone?”

Druig ignored him, though Phastos only smirked and went back to talking to his husband and son on the first floor.  Druig was merely thinking of you and where you went off to as soon as you all made it to Ajax’s farmhouse.  You were mostly quiet on the Domo when you all left that beach, battered and yet still breathing.  Druig’s condition was still on the mend, the massive bruise in the middle of his chest thanks to Ikaris and his beams was making it hard for him to breathe at times.  He was glad to have dressed out of his armor in his regular clothes.  He knew he needed a good night's sleep, maybe a few cups of coffee to at least function, but that could be done later.

He needed to find you.

Once he made it to the second floor, he spotted one of the bedroom doors perched open and the view of an open window that showed the prairie landscape.  A crisp breeze came from the window, the white window drapes blowing by with the wind as Druig saw a flicker of hair from the outside of the window.  There was a person outside the window on the roof, making Druig walk through the bedroom door and right to the open window.

He sighed in relief at the sight. You, his wife of 400 years.

You had your knees tucked to your chest, and the sweater you were wearing made you a bit warm as you were sporting leggings and boots as well.  Your long hair was still somewhat in a Dutch braid behind you, though strands and snags were floating in the wind as your eyes were on the horizon.

“Darlin’,” he said in concern, his head poking out of the window as you were looking over in his direction.  He saw your bright eyes, looking rather calm and relaxed a bit as he smiled, “You alright?”

“I just need some time alone,” You replied, then grinning at him as you held out a hand for him, “Join me?”

Druig would follow you to the ends of the earth if you asked, even through intense pain or flowing fire if it meant you would be on the other side with him.  Druig took your hand willingly, crawling his way out from the open window to sit on the roof right next to you as you clutched your hand in his tightly.  He scanned your appearance, seeing the few scabs and scratches from the battle and yet you still look beautiful to him.  The softness of your cheeks, the brightness of your eyes that seemed like diamonds, Druig never saw anything so beautiful in his life on earth.  

“Here, let me fix yer hair,” Druig said to you as he moved to sit behind you, moving his fingers in your hair as you were looking at the horizon again with softness in your eyes.  You hummed, the sensation of Druig’s fingers along your neck and shoulder while he was fixing your braid was one of your favorite things he would do with you.

It started back when you two were tip-towing around each other, you asking Druig to fix your hair since there was a larger snag that was hard for you to reach.  Neither Thena nor Sersi were around to help you since they would have helped you in the past, so to ask Druig to help with your hair was a bit embarrassing.  Yet to your surprise, Druig was willing to help.  Feeling his fingers go through your locks, was almost a calming sensation that was almost hypnotic.

It was safe to say that Druig would do your hair and has been ever since.  

After you left with Druig when he separated from the family, you felt more at peace with your life with Druig at your side.  You two were head over heels in love, though you never shared it with the others.  In fact, you both were married in secret, wanting it to be shared with just the pair of you under the stars in the Amazon.  It was one of the best nights of your life on the planet.  

Druig was easily moving the locks of hair, knowing how to make the braid to your liking since he’d been doing it for so long.  At that point, he could do it with his eyes closed, but he loved watching your highlights in the sun as you finally spoke for a long moment or two.

“I was scared today,” You admitted, Druig pausing on his movements with your braids as you clutched your legs a bit tighter to your chest and watched some of the clouds go by thanks to the wind, “For the first time in a long time, I was scared that you were going to leave me,”

“No no, don’t think like that anymore,” Druig said in earnest as he kissed your clothed shoulder, wrapping you in your arms to lean against him and keep you secure, “I’m right here with ya, I’m not goin’ anywhere,”

You nodded, feeling him tuck his chin on your shoulder as you two held one another on the rooftop.  Druig loved having you in his arms, whether it was when you two were in bed together or simply watching the stars high above you back in your little village, Druig found peace with you.  No matter how dark his thoughts were or how lost he seemed, you were his safe space and true happiness. 

“We’re going to go to the stars, remember?” Druig whispered to you as you softly smiled, feeling his press his head against yours as he kept talking, “We’re gonna find others like us and tell them how to live like we did,”

“Like we did?” You breathed, Druig grinning widely as he snuck a kiss on your cheek.

“Living our best life,” He answered in a whisper, “Ajak would want that for us, and she’ll want that for the other Eternals that could be out there,”

“As long as you’re with me, I don’t care where we go,” You hummed, Druig squeezing you a bit tighter while you both were watching the sun hide away behind the gray clouds.  You were no longer thinking back to that small flicker of a moment when Druig was almost killed, you were not drinking in that joy that he was there with and not willing to let you go.  You both leaned and relied on each for for so many centuries, almost as if you both were molded together and would rather die than be split apart.  

To think it all started with a simple request to braid your hair.

The End

[blue-aconite]

let me drown || chapter I - bradley’s summer part I

Summary: Bradley has many regrets. A whole lifetime of them. His biggest? Losing her. Watching someone else pick of the pieces of what he broke kills him inside and Bradley doesn’t want to let go of the past. No matter how much the past tries to slip through his fingers.

Warnings: Swearing, jealousy

Word Count: 3.8k

Pairings: Bradley Bradshaw x OC

Authors Note: Minors DNI. Each chapter will be labelled with warnings individually. Rating will go up as we get further into this fic. We’re in for a wild ride fam! Enjoy!

Thank you to my amazing betas @writercole and @imjess-themess!

Virginia, Oceana Naval Air Station, Summer 2018

The common room was quiet, which is a nice change of pace. Usually, this place was full of life, the noise was ever-ending and so loud he couldn’t hear his own thoughts. Bradley tipped his head back, dropping his shoulders and letting out a deep breath. It was quiet now, letting his mind run wild. He almost wished it didn’t.

“If you don’t stop moping soon, I’ll lock you in a closet,” Athena mocked as she shoved at his legs, taking their place on the couch. She stretched out her own legs over his, the heel of her foot dangerously close to his crotch. 

“Thena…” He warned. They had played this game long enough for him to know what she was after. But he wasn’t in the mood. She only smirked, tracing the muscle of his thigh with her sock-clad foot, ignoring his warning. 

“C’mon Bradshaw. It would improve the sour mood you’ve been sporting all day. We both know where we’ll end up anyway.” Tangled between the sheets was left unsaid.

Normally, he would be dragging her off the moment she came onto him but today was different. He just wanted to be left alone. “I’m good. Not really in the mood.”

Six weeks after he got stationed at Oceana, the air boss had called Bradley into his office and told him he would be flying a two-seater for the duration of his assignment. He needed the experience, Admiral Tate had told him, leaving no room for arguing. 

And that’s how he ended up with Joanna ‘Athena’ Simons as his backseater. She was quick on her feet, always two steps ahead and a smart mouth to put people in their place. Whoever said that women didn’t belong in the Navy had never met Athena. 

They were good together. Like two peas in a pod. Bradley thought that flying with a backseater would be a hindrance but Athena quickly proved him wrong. They became fast friends and it didn’t take long until Bradley found himself in bed with her. Neither wanted more, both happy with the physical side of things. It was the perfect agreement. 

Her foot moved sideways and interrupted his train of thought. Bradley sat up, shoving her feet from his lap. “Not now. I’m not in the mood,” he snarled, getting to his feet. Athena held up her hands, eyebrows rising.

“Easy. I was just -”

“I know what you were doing, Thena. I’m tired, so just stop.” Bradley stepped around the couch, leaving Athena behind with a bewildered look on her face. He took a deep breath once he got outside, one hand coming up to rub at his temples. A movement to his right caught his attention as he spied Bob Floyd.

Desperate for a distraction that wasn’t Athena, Bradley jogged over to where Bob was heading.

“Floyd, hey! You’re leaving? Hot date?” Bradley joked as he caught up to Bob. He wasn’t wearing his uniform, dressed in a t-shirt and jeans, leading Bradley to believe he had other plans than hanging out in the common room tonight. 

Bob rolled his eyes as they passed the gates, heading towards the parking lot. “I’m meeting my sister. She just moved here. We’re grabbing dinner.” Floyd fished the car keys out of his pocket, stopping at a black truck. Bob doesn’t strike him as a truck guy. Bradley told him as much.

“Looks can be deceiving Bradshaw. Do you want to join us? Thea won’t mind.” A night out does sound good and especially after today. 

Bradley smiles broadly, rounding the truck and pulling the passenger door open. “If neither of you mind. Today’s the last day I want to be stuck on base.”

Bob asks no questions, just pulls out of the parking lot and starts to drive. This is what Bradley likes about Bob Floyd. He’s quiet, calm and doesn’t pry. He’s a good friend. 

Bradley would like to think they’re friends. They get along, they hang out sometimes and Bob is one hell of a WSO. Athena almost had an aneurysm when she found out Robert Floyd was being stationed at Oceana, in their squad. 

Bob hummed along to the radio, never taking his eyes off the road. “If you want to talk about it, feel free.” 

He doesn’t know if he wants to talk about it. He doesn’t know what to say. 

It’s Maverick’s birthday. Bradley keeps the date marked in each calendar he buys. It’s been years since they’ve talked but every time he gets a new calendar, he marks today’s date. 

Anger fills him as he thinks about the man that stepped in after Nick died. Who spent countless hours telling him stories about his dad, what kind of man he was. Who popped in and out of his life, between assignments and missions. Even though Maverick wasn’t always there, he was there when Bradley needed him. Until he wasn’t. 

Bradley has tried to hate Maverick. Most days he succeeded. On most days, he blamed the man for everything that had gone wrong in his life. His father’s death, his mother’s grief, pulling his papers. It was all Maverick’s fault. 

But today, just today, Bradley can’t find it in him to hate. He would never say it out loud, but he misses Maverick today. Just today. Tomorrow he can go back to hating him. 

Bradley realised he never answered Bob, who is still humming. “I don’t even know what to say. Thanks for offering though,” The bespeckled aviator hums in response, the corners of his mouth lifting slightly. “I’ll let you know if I change my mind.” 

Bob turns left without warning and pulls up in front of a small restaurant. He turns to Bradley, shifting in his seat. “Word of advice. My sister likes to pick people apart. She’s good at reading them. It’s in no way mean, she just likes to know. So if I were you, and didn’t want to talk about it, I’d try to tone down the sullen mood. She’ll notice. She always does.”

Maybe tagging along wasn’t a good idea. Bradley doesn’t feel like being picked apart right now. He’s being held together with tape and glue and the last thing he needs is someone to point out his flaws. 

His feet are moving before his brain catches up and suddenly they're inside and Bob is being engulfed in a hug by the most beautiful girl Bradley has ever seen. 

He’s standing frozen near the door, watching as the Floyd siblings part. Bob is smiling widely, brushing the hair from his sister’s face, such a gentle action it makes Bradley’s heart hurt. In one movement he can see the affection, the love between them.

“.. and this is Rooster. I hope you don’t mind that I invited him.” They’re suddenly in front of him and the greeting gets caught in his throat.

She’s stunning. Radiant even. She’s the light at the end of the dark tunnel he can’t escape. She has her brother’s eyes but unlike Bob’s, hers takes his breath away. So blue he could drown in them, over and over. 

She’s taking his hand, shaking it softly. “Nice to meet you. Do you have a real name or am I gonna have to stick to Rooster?” She’s smiling up at him, her hand soft in his and he can’t help but to shudder at her touch.

Remembering that she asked a question, he coughs awkwardly. “Uh, Bradley. But Rooster works too. Whatever you prefer.” 

“Bradley it is. Name’s Thea, I’m Bob’s sister. If he didn’t tell you that. And no, big brother, I don’t mind. The more the merrier.” Thea let go of his hand and he immediately missed the warmth of her touch. 

She’s smiling widely at him and Bradley feels the quick thuds of his heart against his rib cage. Out of the corner of his eye he can see Bob observing them with a critical look. 

He clears his throat, shoving his hands in the pockets of his jeans. “He did tell me he was meeting you but not your name. It’s.. pretty. Suits you.” It isn’t the smoothest he’s ever been but Thea blushes, mouth curling upward in a bashful smile. 

“Should we grab a table? I’m starving.” Bob diffuses the moment, reaching out to grab his sister’s hand, not waiting for Bradley before he starts towards the dining area. 

They sit down and he can feel her observing him, watching him carefully. She’s a lot like her brother except she likes to talk. A lot more. 

“So, what made you ditch your normal nighttime routine to hang out with my big bro here?” Bob is poking her side when she asks, telling her to shut up. “Don’t mind her, she’s just nosy.” 

“Bob! I’m just trying to get to know him. You don’t mind, do you Bradley?” How can he say no to her? 

Weirdly enough, he wants to tell her. He wants to share his thoughts and troubles. Something tells him that she wouldn’t judge him. 

Dinner mainly consists of Bob watching the two of them flirt over steaks. Bradley tries to not come on too strong but every time she smiles at him he wants to reach across the table and kiss her. There’s something so blindingly pure about her. 

At the end of the night, Thea thrusts a small piece of paper in his hand, kisses his cheek and tells him to give her a call. Then she’s gone, climbing into her car and driving off. 

Bob is oddly quiet, more so than usual. They drive in silence back to base. He wants to ask if he’s overstepped, if Bob doesn’t approve but Bradley doesn’t want to answer either. 

There’s a need to know Thea better. To know what makes her smile and laugh, to know what her childhood was like, which side of the bed she preferred and if she liked breakfast for lunch. Bradley wanted to know everything that made Thea the person she was today. 

He opens his mouth but Bob beats him to it. “Listen. My sister is a grown woman. What she does is none of my business. She obviously likes you and you look like you’ve got a full blown crush already. You’re my friend and I trust you with her. But if you hurt her, if you make her anything other than happy, you will have to answer to me. Understood?” 

Bradley can do little other than nod feverishly. He didn’t want to fuck this up before it had even begun. He wanted Thea, and if keeping on Bob’s good side was a point in his favour, he’d do it. 

Floyd clapped  him on the shoulder, shooting  him an uncharacteristic wink and then disappeared behind the corner, leaving Bradley standing in the parking lot. 

Bradley’s steps were light when he headed back to his room, an exciting feeling in his stomach. Behind closed doors he fished  his phone out of his pocket and punched in Thea’s number under a new contact. 

Hi! It’s Bradley. Are you free for dinner on Friday?

Is this your way of asking me on a date?

It can be whatever you want. I just know I want to see you again. 

Pick me up at 7. Wear something pretty ;)

Bradley hasn’t smiled this much in a long time. He tossed the phone onto his bed and pulled his shirt over his head before heading into the bathroom. He looked  lighter, happier and downright giddy when he passed the bathroom mirror. The smile didn’t  leave him, even when he got  shampoo in his eyes and swore so much his mother would have whacked him over the head. 

The smile disappeared as soon as he made it back into the  bedroom and found Athena lounging on his bed. She was clad in nothing but one of his T-shirts and a pair of boy shorts. 

“I was tempted to join you in there, but the pissy mood from before figured I’d do best staying out here. An apology would be nice, by the way.” She doesn’t take her eyes off the phone while she speaks. 

Bradley bristled. “An apology for what? And is that my phone? Give it here!” He snatched the device out of her hands, swatting her away when she reached for his towel. “Fuck, Athena. Just stop. What’s your fucking problem?” 

“My problem? You being a dick, obviously. And who is Thea, hm? Am I invited this Friday?” She left  the confines of his bedding, poking a finger in the middle of his chest. She let it linger for a while but Bradley stepped  away, happy mood washed away by her presence. 

Athena seemed to get the hint and stayed put, a pout in place on her sun kissed face. Her freckles were  quite prominent in this light and just for a moment he remembered  all the times he spent kissing her other freckles. Then Thea’s face showed  up in his mind and it’s like Athena never has existed for him.

“Look, I’m sorry about before but I wasn’t in the mood. That hasn’t changed.” Bradley shouldn’t apologise, he knew  that but it might placate her enough for the conversation about to happen. 

He just hoped  it won’t mess with their job. “Listen. This was just physical,” he pointed  between the two of them, “and now… fuck. Listen, you’re great. And I like you, you know that. But I can’t keep this up.” 

She stared him down, the same way she stares down men trying to put her into place. Athena has never looked at him like that, never once. She swallowed  audibly once, crossing her arms over her chest. 

“Are you breaking up with me, Bradshaw?” She jabs, mock hurt on her face. It’s just a joke to her. Bradley feels a little better knowing this won’t cost her any sleep. 

Snorting, he settles on the chair. “Fuck off. You know what I mean. Is this going to be a problem?” 

She laughs, all traces of annoyance gone from her face. She’s Thena again, his friend, confidant and partner in crime. “Don’t worry your little head Bradshaw. We’re good. This was just a little bit of fun.” 

He can suddenly breathe better, the pit in his stomach has vanished . A smile is all he can muster, hoping it will convey everything he can’t say. 

“Do I at least get to meet her? She must be something special if you’re willing to throw this away.” Thena gestured to her body, a pleased smirk plastered across her face. 

“I haven’t even taken her on a date yet. I don’t know if she wants me like that. I just know she’s worth it, whatever it is.” He’s glad Athena is his friend, that he can share and not be judged. 

“God you’re whipped after meeting her one time. She must be a fucking unicorn. Well, I’m happy for you. See you in the skies, Rooster.” They parted  ways with their usual phrase, pressing a kiss to his head as she walked by. 

Feeling content with how everything has been handled, Bradley heads for bed and turns out the lights. 

He and Athena are good, he’s got a date with Thea and Bob gave his approval and permission. Bradley was feeling a lot better now than he did this morning. 

His phone lit up with a notification and his heart dropped into his stomach. It’s a calendar reminder, a picture of him and Maverick. Bradley was barely ten in the photo, sitting on Pete’s shoulders, both smiling widely at Carole behind the camera. 

Reminder: Maverick’s Birthday

He could easily stop torturing himself and not set a reminder but over the years he’s discovered that he likes the pain. 

Another notification pops up, this time from Athena. It’s a goodnight text and a picture of a shirtless guy with the text ‘you wish you were this hot’. 

Bradley recognises the guy as Hangman, Athena’s cousin and also a naval aviator. He’s currently stationed in Lemoore, if Bradley remembered correctly. They’d met once or twice and Bradley couldn’t stand the guy. Rude, arrogant and a walking red flag, he had begged Athena not to make him like her cousin. 

Bradley sends a fuck you back and almost calls her when Thea’s name appears on the screen. 

Can we reschedule for 8 instead of 7? Something came up! 

No problem! Can’t wait! 

Great! Thank you! Goodnight Bradley.

Goodnight Thea. Sweet dreams. 

He then put the phone on silent, puffing his pillow before getting comfortable. 

He thought of that way Thea smiled at him, how her hand felt in his and her lips on his cheek as he closed his eyes. 

“Stop being so nervous. What’s wrong with you? It’s just a date.” 

“It’s not just a date, Thena, it’s the date. I cannot screw this up. It might be the most important date I’ve ever been on.” 

Athena was once again lounging on his bed, trying to be helpful but failing spectacularly. All she did was stress him out even more. Bradley’s palms were sweaty and he was pretty sure he’s sweating through his T-shirt. His throat was dry and he reached out with shaking hands for the bottle of water on the windowsill. 

Thena laughed at him, rolling her eyes. “You’re acting like you’re taking the freaking President out. It’s just a girl. Now, change your shirt so you don’t stink up the car and get going. Or you’re going to be late.” 

Bradley refrained from sniping back that Thea isn’t just some girl, but he also didn’t have it in him to argue. To be honest, he hadn’t wanted her help from the beginning, but she showed up and he couldn’t say no. 

Even though Athena said it was fine and they were still friends, she acted a bit suspicious around him. She promised she wasn’t mad but her actions said otherwise. They had miscalculated a training session yesterday and she had chewed him out in front of the entire crew, which was very rare. 

Athena ended the session with a hard shove to his chest and muttering ‘figures you’d do this’ under her breath as she left him speechless on the runway. 

He had tried to talk about it with her but she ignored him for the rest of the day. Only when it was almost time for him to leave base to pick up Thea, she showed up at his door with her apologies. He didn’t have time for them. She knew he was leaving and she still tried to stall him. 

“I’m going to be late because of you. You knew I was going out and you still showed up here.” He’s panicking now, tugging the shirt over his head and reaching for a clean one. 

“You could have told me to leave, don’t blame this on me.” Athena bit back, her bad mood from before returning. 

“I’m leaving. Bye Thena.” Bradley was halfway out the door, throwing a sloppy wave her way before jogging to the Bronco. 

Had he looked back, he would have seen the downtrodden look on her face. But he didn’t. All Bradley could think about was Thea and her sweet smile.

He made it to the address Thea had texted him on record time. Pulling the car into park and snatching the flowers from the passenger seat, Bradley almost choked on his own tongue when he spotted Thea. 

She was sitting on the front porch, dressed in a light purple sundress and hair in a messy bun. She was exquisite. Bradley desperately wanted to hold her in his arms and never let go. 

“Hey stranger, are those for me?” Thea reached for the flowers, bringing them up to her face to inhale their sweet fragrance. 

He leaned over to press a kiss to her cheek. “You look stunning. Otherworldly.” The blush on her cheeks amplified his desire and he pinched his own arm to keep his focus. 

“Aren’t you charming? How did you know my favourite flowers?” 

“Lucky guess.” She raised an eyebrow. 

“Fine. I asked Bob.” Thea laughed and returned the favour of a kiss pressed to his cheek. “Let me get these in water and we can leave.”

Bradley had never been the guy feeling awestruck by something so simple as a kiss on the cheek. But he found himself touching the spot where her lips had graced his skin as he watched her walk back inside the house. His skin burned from her touch and a tingling sensation spread throughout his body. 

Thea returned to his side and he made sure to open the door for her. His mother didn’t raise a heathen. He could be a gentleman. 

“So, we’re are we going?” She nervously fiddling with her hands in her lap as he leaves her neighbourhood. 

It’s endearing and he hesitantly reached over to intertwine his fingers with hers, keeping the other hand steady on the wheel.

“It’s a surprise. But you’ll like it, I promise. Do you trust me?” He did ask Bob for her favourite food and activities while planning. He planned the make this the perfect date. 

“I do trust you Bradley. I’m just not fond of surprises.” She’s blushing again and Bradley wants to spend his life making her blush. The colour on her cheeks was intoxicating. 

He pulls up outside a cosy little Mediterranean restaurant, reluctantly letting go of her hand in favour of sprinting around the car to help her outside. 

She links her arm through his, eyes sparkling as she takes in their destination. 

“Let me guess, you asked Bob?” She laughs, reaching up to smooth out a wayward curl on his head. 

“Guilty. But it doesn't matter as long as you like it. Do you?” 

“I love it.” 

Bradley can’t help himself. She’s on his arm, looking up at him with the bluest eyes he’s ever seen. They’re beautiful. She’s beautiful. He needs to know what she tastes like. 

He moves slowly, giving her the chance to pull away. But Thea only leans into him and Bradley closes the distance between them. 

Kissing Thea is like a fresh breath of air. It’s like he’s been drowning his entire life and she’s what it’s like coming up for air. His entire body is on fire, every nerve in his system thrumming with excitement. 

He could spend the rest of his life kissing her. She smiled into the kiss, hand curling around the back of his neck. 

“We should head inside. I got us a reservation.” He whispered against her lips. They hesitated to  part from one another, lips hovering close together but not quite touching. 

“Lead the way.”

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