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cilliansgirl · 3 years

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wounds ✧ theseus scamander

Pairing: Theseus Scamander x Fem!reader, Newt Scamander x Fem!reader

Warnings: maybe some swearing, mentions of sex, blood

Summary: “Who is he? The guy that you were with last night?” The woman exclaimed, “I wasn’t with anyone. Your brother had invited me over for dinner, so be careful before you go making assumptions about someone.”

GIF IS NOT MINE

Y/N strode through the British Ministry of Magic, slipping into the elevator before the sliding door could close. She pressed the button to level four, the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. As the elevator door slowly opened, she ran out of patience for it to open completely, wedging herself between the door and the wall of the moving cylinder. She quickly paced down the corridors, making various turns on the way to her office.

Inside, she was panicked, her body flooded with anxiety. Her report was due to Travers first thing in the morning and she hadn’t even started. How was she going to fit two months worth of events into three hours? Oh, she dug her hole deep this time. She finally reached her office; once the grand door was closed, she threw off her heels and scurried over to her desk. Y/N sorted and ruffled through the papers on her desk, her anxiety growing the more papers she scattered.

Come on, come on. It has to be here. I knew I put it in this stack.

She turned around to face the monstrous book shelves that only a library would have. Her hands delicately swept over numerous books, trying her best to remember if she had stuck the blank report in one while she was researching.

“Looking for this, I presume,” the gruff voice spoke from the balcony.

Her head suddenly turned faster than a thestral could fly. She met eyes with the icy blue ones she knew all too well. The tall man walked down the stairwell, sure enough grasping the blank report in his hands. Her bare feet padded against the marble floor so they met in front of her desk. They were standing close to one another, maybe too close.

“Give it back, Thes.”

He sighed, stepping back to sit in the leather club chair placed in front of the engraved wooden rectangle. He extended his arm out to her, gesturing to take the file from his grasp. Once she responded and reached out for the report, he cruely snatched it back to his body.

“Theseus,” Y/N stated back in a warning tone.

He cleared his throat, an evident smirk on his face, “On one condition.”

“Name it.”

“Where were you last night?” He raised his eyebrows as his smirk faltered.

“No,” she spat back, walking behind her desk to sit in her own chair awkwardly, “that is none of your concern.”

He adjusted his position so he leaned closer to the girl, “Because I stopped by your place and you weren’t there. It’s kind of ironic. The night you come back from a two month assignment, you’re miraculously not at you flat.”

Y/N squinted her eyes, “Why were you at my flat?”

“I was being a nice friend and checking up on you. So, I went to your place, but didn’t find you, so I left.”

“I’m sorry Theseus, I-”

“Who is he?” Theseus interrupted.

She scoffed, “Pardon me?”

“Who is he? The guy that you were with last night?”

The woman exclaimed, “I wasn’t with anyone. Your brother had invited me over for dinner, so be careful before you go making assumptions.”

She abruptly stood up, placing her heels back onto her feet as she walked out the door. As she passed Theseus, she snatched the report out of his hands, the force of the swipe startling him. Something boiled in his veins. He didn’t know if the feeling was jealousy, anger, betrayal, sadness, or all of the above. As quick as he could be, he apparated to Newt’s place. Without thinking, he was banging on the door, demanding Newt to open the wooden frame. Once he did, Newt was shocked to find a very angry Theseus at his door.

“What is wrong with you?” Theseus screamed, allowing himself into the flat.

“I haven’t the slightest idea what you are talking about,” Newt answered.

Theseus’s face reddened out of anger as he pointed a finger at him, “You know how I felt about her. You, you git! And still, you invite her over for dinner and she stays over here.”

Newt was confused, astonished even. He thought she told Theseus about the wound. That is, the only reason Y/N came over. Maybe to catch up as well, but that was after Newt had given her something to heal the pain.

“Well, say something!” Theseus sternly stated.

“I-I think,” Newt huffed, “Y/N came to me. She didn’t want the Ministry to find out she was hurt on her assignment to Romania. Y/N’s hip and lower abdomen were burned by a Hungarian Horntail. There’s nothing much you can do to heal it with a wand, so I helped her and applied some potions to the burn and-and I wrapped it for her. She did mention avoiding St. Mungos because the Romanian Dragon Sanctuary had told her there is nothing that they could do. But, but I-I thought at least she had told you.”

Theseus asked, “If Y/N was hurt why did she go into work this morning?”

Newt quickly shook his head while diverted his contact from Theseus’s eyes, “That’s not, um- I told her that it would be wise not to go in and report sick. But she never seems to listen to me and my instructions. I applied Burn-Healing Paste around the area and then I wrapped it with a mixture of plum leaves to counteract the pain. I insisted that she stayed the night so that she could rest and that way I could check up on her if she needed it. That was it Theseus, I swear to you nothing else happened.”

There were so many thoughts processing through Theseus’s head. Why didn’t you tell him the truth? Why didn’t you tell him that you were hurt? Did you not trust him enough? Why did you come running to Newt instead of him? All he knew is that he needed to get to you as soon as possible and set everything straight.

“I am sorry for getting upset with you Newt,” Theseus apologized.

“It’s okay,” Newt replied, his gaze focused on the floor as he fidgeted with him bow tie, “I suppose if the roles were reversed, that I would feel the same.”

Before Newt registered what was happening, Theseus had embraced him in a warm hug. A forgiving hug. Newt wasn’t a big hugger himself, but this once he responded back and wrapped his arms around his older brother.

“Theseus, I think now would be a good time to tell Y/N how you feel about her.”

Theseus smiled softly as he pulled away, “Alright, Newt. Thank you.”

Theseus hands remained on Newt’s shoulders. Before Theseus apparated, his hand reached up to pat the side of his brother’s gentle face. As soon as Newt blinked, Theseus was gone. Although Newt was not the wishing type, he hoped with all of his being that Theseus and Y/N would get this sorted out. Not only because they are best friends, but because Newt sees the love both of them have for each other.

Back at the comfort of her own home, Y/N was distracting herself with chores. She hadn’t visited her London flat since she had decided to go to Romania. As much as she seemed clam and collected, her feelings were quite the opposite. She hated to admit it, but being back in London has set a terrible feeling of uneasiness over her body.

Uneasiness...that's all she could feel. The atmosphere of London brings back memories. Memories of work, memories of her personal life. Memories of the night she left. All of the above she wanted to forget. Maybe that's why she accepted the job in Romania so quickly. Maybe she wanted to get away from everyone that had hurt her. She shuddered thinking of the old time. She had placed the cleaning supplies away on the top shelf, and just as she was going to make herself a cuppa, there was a sudden pain in her side.

"Merlin," she mumbled.

She quickly but cautiously made her way to the full-body mirror that stood upright in her room. Y/N gently lifted her olive green blouse and immediately cursed herself. Her gaze met with dark red liquid seeping through the plum leaves that were sealed to her body. She discarded her shirt to avoid staining blood on it, careful not to strain the wound anymore than it already was. She paced to her bathroom, opening her medicine cabinet that stood next to the porcelain-top sink. Browsing hastily through all the bottles and bags, she quickly tried to find the burning paste that Newt had given her. However, the more Y/N moved her body, the more nauseated she had become. After finding the burning paste, she stripped her slacks, leaving the girl in her undergarments. She couldn’t determine whether her tripping and stumbling was from dizziness or urgency, but she knew if she did not sit down soon, she was going to faint. Y/N turned and snatched multiple wash rags and sheets of gauze to soak up the spilling blood while she applied pressure to the wound.

Too preoccupied with the task at hand, Y/N had not even heard the almost urgent knocking at the door. She also did not hear the footsteps of her best man walking through the apartment. Suddenly, he bursts through the bathroom door, clearly making himself known.

“THESEUS!” Y/N jumped, attempting to cover herself decently without straining the wound.

Much to Y/N’s dismay, Theseus observed the scene of the bathroom quickly. Blood-satined rags and towels scattered across the cold tile floor while medical equipment was on the counter. Theseus did not hesitate to walk towards the cowering girl. But as he approached her, Y/N’s arms flailed around, repetitively hitting Theseus in the chest, pushing him back. Before she knew it, Theseus had grabbed both of her wrists and pulled her body close to his to avoid her relentlessness.

“Stop, stop it. Y/N listen to me, you’re going to make the bleeding worse. Stop it,” he spoke sternly.

“Theseus, get out! Get out! I don’t want you here!”

“Darling, let me help you. Please let me help you.”

She would be lying if she said that his words didn’t flutter her heart. Honestly, it wouldn’t be anything Theseus hadn’t seen before. Reluctantly, she let Theseus take her robe off, giving Theseus a full view of the wound.

He gently brushed around the sensitive skin surrounding the inflammation. Y/N winced as he applied pressure to an area above her rib.

“Come on, “ Theseus muttered, taking her hand and leading her to sit on the edge of the bathtub. Theseus cautiously applied the burn paste and wrapped the bandages around Y/N’s torso. He stepped away, wiping off his hands with one of the discarded rags. He helped Y/N stand up, guiding her to the bathroom sink. He picked up her silk robe from being draped over her vanity and gently slipped it over her shoulders, carefully easing her arms through the designated positions. They stood next to one another, both leaning against the porcelain sink. There was silence as time passed, as if the both of them were scared to talk to the other.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Theseus asked, leaning against the sink.

“I was scared of how you’d react,” Y/N replied.

“Scared of what?”

Y/N turned and walked to the master bedroom, Theseus following close behind for precaution.

“I was scared that you would find out I was hurt and pull me out of Romania, that’s why I didn’t tell you. You are Head Auror now, so you can do that. And Merlin, Theseus, I know how you are; if I would have written Travers saying I was burned by a Hungarian, you would have come and got me yourself.”

He sighed, “I wouldn’t have.”

Y/N’s head whipped around, “No! You don’t get to do that! You don’t get to say that because you would have. And then, to top it all off, I come home and you put me in an uncomfortable position because you’re acting like everything is fine when everything is not fine. It made me feel like I couldn’t tell you. That’s why.”

Theseus’s eyes flashed between hers, “Tell me what’s not fine.”

“Merlin, Theseus! You’re so ignorant and oblivious!” Y/N stressed, her hands running through her (h/c) hair.

Her eyes met his, hers burning with rage and frustration as his were with confusion.

“Theseus, the night before I left, we spent the night together. We spent the morning together before I left. The moment before I left for Romania, you said you would wait for me. Then I come back, ready to jump in your arms and give you the biggest hug ever imaginable, yet you weren’t there. So I sought comfort at Newt’s.”

Theseus looked away, shaking his head profusely, “No.”

Y/N scoffed, “No what, Thes?”

Theseus looked back into her (e/c) orbs. Y/n couldn’t read his face, but there was a flash in his eyes, a hint of passion.

“No, you’ve got your story wrong,” Theseus grabbed her wrists and pulled her gently against him.

He brought her hands up to the sides of her face while hers rested on the lapels of his suit, “I’m still waiting for you.”

Instinctively, Theseus and Y/N both leaned in, their lips cascading in the wave of emotion that was built up within their months apart. The kiss was passionate, nothing but the love and yearning they had for one another. They pulled away, catching their breaths while their foreheads rested against another’s. Theseus’s right arm slipped down to drape on her waist while his left stroked the side of Y/N’s face.

“I love you, Theseus. I have ever since 4th year,” Y/N whispered.

He chuckled, “Good, because I’ve loved you since 5th year when you spent the holidays with me.”

Y/N’s arms wrapped around his waist, embracing him in a hug while her head rested on his chest.

“Thank you for waiting on me.”

“Anything for you darling,” he mumbled as he kissed the crown of her head.

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A/N: Okay this sucked really ,really bad. But, I just love my baby Theseus.

#newt scamander x reader #theseus scamander x reader #theseus scamander #fantastic beats the crimes of grindelwald #fantastic beats and where to find them #fantastic beasts #newt scamander #theseus #newt #jk rowling #harry potter #wizarding world #imagine #theseus scamander imagine #fluff #etc

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krysalla-archive · 3 years

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come away with me.

relationship: geralt of rivia x reader warning(s): my dumbassery... word count: 3k summary: geralt comes home to you after a four month separation

Winter is approaching fast. Nearly all the trees have shed their leaves and covered the grass and the cold chill has started to bite a little harder during the day and make the nights almost unbearable. The rain will start soon and you won’t have any more days where you can lay out beneath the sun without the fear of frostbite or rain. Only a few more days left like this.

A shadow is cast over you, large and cold, heat seeping out from your body. You peek one eye open to look at who has interrupted your slice of heaven. Amber eyes peer down at you and sunlight catches on silver strands of hair. You smile. It’s been too long since you’ve seen his face.

“Hello, dove.”

You close your eyes and hum, “Stand a little more to the left? You’re blocking the sun, darling.”

He scoffs. “Three months I haven’t seen you and that’s all you have to say?”

“Actually, my love, it’s been four months. And, yes, it’s one of the last days of sun for a while and I don’t want anything to spoil it. Not even my favorite Witcher.” You smirk up at him and pat the space to the right of you. You’ve been waiting patiently for this day.

He follows your teasing order, crushing clovers and blades of grass beneath heavy boots and heavier steps. He sits next to you and groans when his knee pops. He’s getting old, you both are, but you’re the only one that will outwardly look it while he will stay the same for much longer than you. You mourned that fact once, just at the beginning, even though you were plagued with the question of what you meant to him.

He leans over you. A blur of pink and white and he has a flower tucked into your hair. You smile.

“A flower?”

“Peony, the merchant told me. Reminded me of you.” He grunts and lies by your side.

“Careful, my dear Witcher. People might start to think you aren’t a soulless, unfeeling thing.”

He rolls his eyes at that, but you smile wider. You pluck the flower from behind your ear and twirl it between your fingers. It’s beautifully preserved. It must have cost a pretty penny since peonies only bloom in the spring and early summer and the preservation process is quite expensive to pay for. The simplest token and it makes your heart swell with love.

“Where did you get it?”

“Azmar. Not long after I last saw you.”

“You carried this around with you all that time?”

You swell with love and joy at the thought. He kept you with him for four months. You lay your hand over your heart, flower tucked between your palm and your breast. “Tell me about your travels?”

He hums. Geralt runs his thumb over your knuckles. There isn’t much to tell and what he can tell you isn’t something that you should hear. His stories are gruff and short and more importantly, tell the whole truth. He would much rather you hear Jaskier’s version of events over the truth any day. He doesn’t want your perception of him to change. If you ever heard that thought come out of his mouth, you would be furious.

“Please?” You cradle his cheek with your free hand and turn him to face you, “For me?”

His eyes glide over your face, drinking in your features greedily. He’s missed you, missed the warmth and love you preserve for him. Your smile, soft and curling gently, pulls him in. The kiss is brief and chaste even if he wants something more from it, but he can wait a little longer for that. “What do you want to hear?”

You brush your finger over the scar on his forehead and smile. “Everything.”

***

You lead him home. The tiny cottage stands stark against the heavy green of the trees that surround it, a beacon of peace from the world. As proud as you are of your family, you could not live with them. This cottage, stone white and green ivy crawling up the sides, is your own little paradise and you are more than happy to share that with Geralt.

Roach is already resting in the stable. He must have come here first and went looking for you when he found that you weren’t home. What a lovely thought. He knows he could have waited in the cottage for you, but he went out of his way to bring you back home.

You push the door open and begin to fret about the small clutter that's started to gather around the single room. The old, black cat looks up from his spot on the window sill, blinks lazily at you and turns his attention to Geralt. His tail swishes and he pushes himself up and with a hiss at the Witcher, he jumps out the window to lay in the flowerbeds instead. You click your tongue. He’s a skittish old thing. He doesn’t like unfamiliarity and Geralt’s easy coming and goings from your life puts the poor thing on edge.

“Please, sit down, I’m sure you’re tired.” You pull out a chair from the table, swiping at dust that doesn’t exist. It’s always awkward the first few minutes he steps into your home like the cottage and yourself have forgotten that he isn’t a stranger.

One, two steps and he’s able to wrap his fingers around your wrist, his lips quirked into a half smile. He gently (always gentle with you, no one else, because he’s all too aware of his strength and the last thing he wants is to hurt you) tugs you to him. He presses a quick kiss to your temple.

He’s good for you, even if he thinks the opposite, he brings you down and grounds you when that worry begins to claw inside of your stomach. Geralt continues to kiss you, making his way down from your temple to your cheek, jaw and finally to your lips and it takes every ounce of strength to push away from him.

“We can do that later,” you tap a finger above his heart, “Dinner first.”

***

The sound of rain pattering on your roof wakes you. It’s not a horrible way to drift away from your dreams. It’s peaceful, you can’t hear the groans of the trees over the rain or the occasional pattering of coyotes feet tracing the perimeter of your fence in an attempt to break into your chicken coup.

He’s staring at you, but it doesn’t make the hairs on the back of your neck stand up like it does when everyone else stares at you. You thought it odd once that you were able to trust him so wholeheartedly. You have never trusted someone like this, even your own family, but then again, he understands you in a way nobody else can.

Fingers drift over your stomach, drawing patterns that you can’t decipher. It’s his own little language, you imagine, spelling out words of love, promises he can’t voice himself. You smile when his palm lays flat against your stomach, molding to the curve of it. No matter where his hands start, they always end there.

“How long have you been up?” you croak. Drowsiness still hangs over your head. It’s so peaceful. “You should get some sleep, beloved. You need it.”

He makes a noncommittal noise and turns you in his arms to face him. “Not yet.”

He moves his hand to your thigh and hooks it over his hip. It’s nice being close to him. You peer over his shoulder to get a glance of the fire. It’s nowhere near being completely burned out but there’s a noticeable ash pile collecting. It’s only been a few hours by your estimation. It looks though that you didn’t put nearly enough to last through the night, but no matter, you have Geralt to keep you warm through the night.

You push your face into his chest and breathe in. He smells like lavender and honey from the soap you gave him. His fingers brush over your spine and traces a loop onto your skin.

“I have missed you.”

“It would be nice,” you brush a piece of white hair away from his face and push yourself away just the tiniest bit so you can look him in the eye, “to just lay here forever. We wouldn’t have to miss each other so often.”

There’s a flash of emotion in his eyes, something you can’t decipher, maybe sorrow or regret. He hums and you’re not sure if it’s in agreement or just to appease you. It takes everything in you to not smooth out the worry lines on his face.

“Kiss me?” you don’t want to think, you just want him. It isn’t a surprise that he complies with your request, he would do just about anything for you.

His hand cups your cheek and he leads you to lay on your back. He hovers over you, careful of his weight and gentle when he comes to straddle one of your legs between his. The kiss is soft, but unwavering as he tries to convey how much he’s missed you.

***

He reaches out for your warmth and wants nothing more than another hour in bed before the rooster calls, signaling the beginning of the day, but he finds empty sheets instead. He turns to face the room, blankets tangling his ankles, and catches you in the middle of dressing. You lay out the layers on the back of a chair.

He watches your back fondly.

You startle when his hands come to rest over yours and his fingers begin working nimbly to help you dress.

“I can get it myself, Geralt. I’m a grown woman.” You huff and turn your glance over your shoulder at him.

He grunts in acknowledgment but continues fastening the laces on your stay. Geralt’s seen you do this countless times before. All he wants to do is help. There’s enough on your plate already and it wouldn't hurt him to help with a few simple tasks.

“Where are you going, dove?” he moves your hair to the side and presses a line of kisses down the nape of your neck.

“We are going to the river.”

You lean back against him, melting into his touch and he can’t help the swell of pride in his heart. This is his and although he is undeserving of it, he will call you his as long as you let him. More importantly, he is yours. He likes the way that sounds to him. Yours.

***

The damp grass gives way to sand and rocks as you approach the riverbed. It’s peaceful today as it will be until the spring. Families and fisherman and hunters will be few and far between for the next four months. It’s your favorite time to visit with Geralt. There’s no prying eyes, no townsfolk looking for another piece of gossip to fuel them through the winter. You can just be.

You sit side by side on a thick knitted blanket with a quilt wrapped around your shoulders. Geralt insists that he’s fine and maybe he is, you know that he does run warm and that he eases the chill of winter nights when he’s there to share your bed with you, but you still want him to have the simple comfort of the weight of a blanket wrapping him up tight.

He’s looking at you, recommitting your face to memory. But he knows you well and can read you like an open book. Every small twitch on your face, the slight downturn of your lips, the small line between your brow deepening when you pull your eyebrows together in a worried or frantic thought, the stiffness of your shoulders when you plant your knuckles against the ground rather than your palms.

Geralt gently grasps your chin, thumb pulling at your bottom lip for just a fleeting second before he remembered what he was going to ask. “What’s wrong, dove?”

“When will you leave?”

“Eager to get rid of me, are you?” Geralt chuckles and moves his hand down the delicate curve of your neck, tucks his hand under the blanket and over your shoulder, down your chest and finally settling at the curve of your hip. It’s a well worn path and comforting to him. He leans his cheek against yours and smiles when you squirm and whisper his name in gentle chiding.

“No, never that.” You lay your hand over his and brush the other through his loosely tied back hair, tucking in strands that have fallen out of place. He’s always had such lovely hair, strands of pure silver and soft as silk. “I want to know how much time I have left with you.”

“Dove…” he sighs. Exhausted, hesitant, resigned.

So it will be soon, maybe even tonight if you’re unlucky enough which always seems to be the case when it comes to him. Maybe it is selfish to want to have more time with him and foolish to want yourself to occupy his every thought and have him carry you in his heart wherever he goes. But love makes you foolish.

He cradles the back of your head when he feels you pull away. Stay.

“There’s a village in the south, Venzor, that has a problem with ghouls.”

“That doesn’t answer my question.”

“Tomorrow morning.”

Geralt looks at you, shifting to sit upright and angle himself toward you. The river's small waves lap at the sand and rocks, neither so much as moving under the force. Maybe if you dip your feet into the water and wade out to the current, the river could sweep you all the way to the end of the world. What a wonderful thought. It would be easier to go that way than by heartbreak.

“Are you upset?” He questions, but he knows you better than you know yourself. He doesn’t need to ask the question. So he flounders for something to say, because as much as he likes to disguise himself with indifference and disinterest, he does care too much. “You could come away with me.”

An appeasement.

You both know the answer to this. No. He would never take you with him, it’s too dangerous for you out on the road when you don’t know how to defend yourself and the danger it would do to your reputation for people to know you are following a Witcher across the world. Besides, you’re selfish. You don’t want to give up your comfortable life here, you want Geralt to give up the danger and hang up his swords and strip away the armor and medallion and join you in your garden. Teach him how to tend to the vegetables and your flowers, teach him how to knead bread the way your mother taught you to. You want to give him a home, a place where he belongs and is loved instead of living on the road and reviled by the people who request his help.

You want a normal life, one that he can share in.

“I am upset. But as long as you come back to me, I will be okay.”

***

It’s quiet when you finally come back to your home. The entire walk back is filled with only the fading sounds of water and the rustling of dead leaves at you feet.

He will leave in the morning. He was gone for four months and you barely get to spend two full days with him. Your heart lurches at the idea of another moment without him, even a full day makes you dizzy with grief, but you understand it. He has a job, an obligation to the world. Geralt is a protector and you could not ask him to give that up, otherwise everything he went through to become a Witcher would be in vain. Still, it would be nice to live that fantasy that plays in your mind when your bed is cold and loneliness settles into your bones.

You cradle his face in your hands, swaying in your spot and his arms tighten around your waist. His forehead pressed against yours as you hum a little tune you heard from a bard whose lovelorn song had made your heart clench. It’s all you need to tether you for a while, these small stolen moments. Maybe one day you’ll both come to your senses and realize that this isn’t something that you can hold onto. You can imagine him saying that he’s stolen all chance of you for a normal life when you begin to wrinkle and your hair begins to match his. You’d do it all over again for him in a heartbeat.

***

He wakes up earlier than he intended. The fire is starting to die and the black cat sits as close as it can to the fire, soaking up the warmth while it’s still alive.

You’re dead to the world at this point in the night. No matter how much he shifts on the mattress or how loud the coyotes get outside, you continue to dream. He hopes it’s happy, tranquil. An easy dream that will not make you wake with a fright and leave you unable to move until the fear subsides from your body. You told him once before that those dreams only happen when he’s not there and his presence, even to your subconscious, reminds you that you are safe when he is tucked in next to you.

He pulls your hand to cup his cheek. Only a few more hours until he departs from home and goes back to living on the road and roughing it for an indeterminate amount of time. People become even less generous to him when winter rolls around.

Perhaps he will return to you after this one job in Venzor and can come back to support you through the winter. He will have a warm bed and regular meals, no jostling from villagers or be casted out by the people he is trying to help. You will welcome him with open arms and invite him to hide away with you in the space you carved for yourself in the world.

#geralt of rivia x reader #geralt x reader #geralt of rivia imagine #geralt imagine #the witcher imagine #the witcher x reader #my writing #mediocre writing... AGAIN!

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ohmsjedi · 3 years

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𝘞𝘢𝘺 𝘋𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘞𝘦 𝘎𝘰

𝘊𝘰𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘞𝘰𝘭𝘧𝘧𝘦 𝘹 𝘎𝘕 𝘑𝘦𝘥𝘪!𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

Summary: Jedi padawan reader experiences the events before and after Order 66.

Warnings: Angst, violence, death, injury.

Word Count: 6,296

Today was no different from the others, but on this specific occasion you felt off. The lack luster of pride, confidence, and tranquility was no doubt obvious to the legion. You were just unable to correspond or focus normally as per usual.

You stood and observed the planet Cato Neimodia from the docking station. Soldiers were scattered around tending to transport ships and various other Z-95 Starfighters that needed more modifications before departure.

The whole reason to you feeling this way was because this was your last mission with the men, alongside master Plo. Your future afterwards would lye in the hands of the Jedi council.

You begged the stars that the Jedi council wouldn’t screw you over. Then again, anything is possible. Whether it be good or bad, there’s always an outcome to everything.

The sounds of beeps caused you to look away from the planet. Tilting your head down, your astromech droid, EV-9E, circled around you, making noises to get your attention. You smiled down at the chipped grey and white droid, then squatted down to be eye level with it.

“What took you so long?” You curiously asked the droid as it made unamused beeps. You placed a hand on its dome, and raised an eyebrow as the droid continued to make unsatisfied noises. EV then opened up one of its compartments where your hand was placed, causing you to retract your hand away. The droid broke out into even more angry beeps.

"I know, I know, I’m sorry, but there’s nothing I can do. I can’t bring you on this mission and that’s final" the droid wheeled back and twisted its head around, even teetering from one leg to the other, almost like a youngling having a temper tantrum.

"You've been around Artoo too much" you joked. EV stopped and wheeled up to you with a bit of force and bumped into your knees, nearly knocking you off your feet. You haltered the droid by putting your hand up in front of you and glared at it.

"Fine fine" you readjusted your position, now in a kneeling stance "You can prepare my ship-” EV started to beep happily “but I'm not promising that I'll need it" you gave EV a pointed look. EV ignored your words and continued to beep happily as it turned away from you and headed straight to the sector where your ship resided untouched.

"Blasted droids never’ listen" you rolled your eyes at the gruff voice and stood up from the ground, turning your whole body around, now facing an unhelmeted Wolffe.

"Not to you of course" you quipped, folding your arms and cocking your head to the side "I take it you're still not over the whole fiasco with Artoo and 3PO" you teased as you gave Wolffe a sly smile.

Wolffe scoffed and took his helmet from his right arm and switched it to his left. Keeping his eyes focused on the ground, he pushed his slightly cupped right hand towards you. You moved closer to him, eyeing the object in his hand curiously, he shook his hand a little, a sign to take it. With delicate fingers, you took the now obvious rounded pendant into your hand, the chain dangling down and grazing the back of your hand softly.

Carefully, you untangled the chain and held it up in front of you, the chain swayed, and gleamed from the lights above. Your eyes softened, you rested the pendent in your hand, bringing it closer to your face for further inspection. The pendant had a small engrave of what you assumed looked similar to the packs logo. Your finger lightly traced over the engraved markings, the small pendent feeling cool underneath your fingertip.

"An elderly native gave it to me as a thank you gift for helping them recover most of their belongings of what they presumed was lost during our relief mission." you looked away from the pendent and looked at Wolffe "They said it was made out of beskar, and recommended I gift it to someone who was worthy of having it" Wolffe met your eyes, and you smiled at him. For a moment, you felt like the luckiest person to coexist, then that quickly subsided. Your face faltered, having the mindset of being unworthy of a gift from him, especially something as rare as beskar.

“It’s beautiful Wolffe...but I just can’t-”

“Cyare this gift is meant for you and only you” Wolffe froze, his eyes widening a little from the small slip up. He blinked a couple of times before clearing his throat “What I mean is...this is a gift of gratitude, from me to you. Take it as a thank you for allowing me to serve alongside you”

You opened your mouth before closing it, Wolffe gave you a sincere and honest look. You nodded and graced a small grin on your face.

“Thank you for this, and it was an honor serving alongside you” Wolffe felt his heart ache, feeling as everything was coming to an end so soon.

Originally, he wasn’t planning on gifting the necklace to you this early on. A unsure master Plo had mentioned to him that you would take a separate ship to meet with master Yoda on Kashyyyk after fending off the separatists on Cato Neimodia.

Once Wolffe received this information, he had no other choice but to force himself to give you the necklace on short notice. He was just worried that he wouldn’t have another opportunity like this to give it to you.

“Wolffe I have to ask you something“ Wolffes brows raised at you, he examined your face noticing how you seemed hesitant. You fiddled with the necklace in your hand, now starting to feel anxious.

“That is?” He drawled as he gripped onto his helmet tighter.

Confrontation was never your thing, out in battle it was different. Being faced to face with someone alone and away from prying eyes was more of a nerve wrecking experience then expected.

“I was curious about-“ The call of both of your names caused you both to turn your heads towards the direction of the recipient. Plo made his way across the hanger as he looked between the two of you. Wolffe was quick to stand at attention, fixing his posture and clutching onto his bucket.

Plo stopped in front of you both.

“Commander Wolffe, I would like you to begin boarding protocols to your men”

“Yes general” Wolffe placed his helmet on top of his head and made way towards his comrades that were wondering around. Your eyes followed Wolffes retreating figure, then soon you looked back towards your Master.

“Nervous I sense” Plo held his hands behind him as he continued to take in your force signature.

“Just a little, but I’ll get over it” you shrugged and gazed down at the chain that was peaking out of your hand.

“No need to torture yourself with your worries of the Jedi councils decision. I for one know that you’ll make a fine Jedi knight” You bit the inside of your cheek and held onto the necklace a little bit tighter.

“But if they were to disagree, I’ll be sure to reconcile and talk with the Jedi masters in hopes of making them reconsider their choices, which I doubt is something I’ll have to do.” You nodded and kept your head low.

“Rest assure you’ll be just fine. Then again, if you can’t get over your nerves by the time you reach the bridge, just stick with the pack and if you have to, hold position till you feel okay, then do so” You took Plos words into consideration before mumbling a ‘yes master’.

“May I?” Plo pointed towards the Beskar necklace in your hand, you nodded and carefully handed it to him and turned around. Plo unclasped the chain and carefully placed it around your neck, in just a few seconds the hook was successfully secured into the eye clasp. He then let the ends go and backed a few steps away from you. You turned back around and thanked him.

“I’m surprised that you were able to do it so fast”

“Well, I did come to know two younglings who were very infatuated with necklaces during their youth” Plo grinned to himself, remembering both a young you and a young Ahsoka.

Plos comm link went off signaling that it was almost time to depart from the Venators hangar. Plo looked at you one last time and gave you a small nod.

“I trust you that the center bridge will be secured by the time we’ve finished off the separatists fleet?” Plo raised his brow bones up at you

“Yes master, we will be sure to secure the bridge and escort any remaining citizens to safety” you fixed your posture, now feeling a bit more confident than you originally were. Plo rested a hand on your shoulder.

“Good luck y/n, I’ll see you on the grounds before you know it.” Plo retracted his hand away from your shoulder “Be sure to watch out for the men” Plo turned around and walked the opposite direction to where the fleet and his ship were.

You brought up your hand and took the pendent in between your thumb and pointer finger, feeling the engraved logo. You looked over towards master Plo one last time before turning around and heading towards the LA/AT ships.

From a distance Boost eyes followed your walking figure, he turned his head to Wolffe who kept his head down.

“You didn’t tell them...did you?” Even if Wolffe couldn’t see Boost's face, he knew his vod was a bit disappointed.

“No...I didn’t. I just couldn’t bring myself to confess the way I originally planned to.” Wolffe said in a hushed tone. Sinker patted Wolffes back, providing a bit of comfort for his commander.

“It’s alright vod, you’ll get your chance another time” Wolffe sighed and clenched his fists as he adjusted his posture.

As you got closer to them, Wolffe was quick to move towards the LA/AT. Boost and Sinker shook their heads as they watched a retreating and irritated Wolffe bored the ship. Once you arrived, they were all quick to greet you while boarding alongside them.

You watched as the fleet took their departure, you blindly reached up and grabbed a hold of the handle bar. The ships blast doors closed slowly, the red emergency lights turned on, casting a red hue inside. You stared at the ship's door, it was too quiet for your liking. Only the sounds of your rapid heartbeat thrumming and a few feet scuffing on the ground.

Oh how you disliked these moments where everything felt so tense and the air seemed so thin. It was always you who started small talk with your comrades before and during transportation. But you couldn’t bring yourself to it.

You were just a mess.

The small rocking of the transport ship signaled that you were taking off. You clutched the handle a bit tighter to prevent yourself from losing balance, but also a way to keep you mentally grounded.

***

Entering into the Cato Neimodias atmosphere was a rough start. Explosions caused the ship to have minor turbulence, you all stumbled and clung onto the handles, even grabbing onto one another’s shoulder for balance. You quickly let go of the handle and latched onto the side of the ship next to the blast door.

The door you were next to slid open, you squinted your eyes from the reveal of the harsh lighting. Once your eyes adjusted, you poked your head out, observing as launched missiles had either bypassed transport ships or exploded mid-air.

One particular missile headed straight towards one of the transport ships, reaching your hand out, you made the missile take a detour before it could strike down the LA/AT.

The closer you got to the surface, various Starfighters and separatist ships had zoomed past. As soon as the center bridge's ground was in view you turned your head and signaled to Wolffe with a simple finger gesture, he nodded and grabbed hold of his pistols while the others adjusted their blasters.

You moved closer to the opening, taking a deep breath and exhaling slowly. Adrenaline pumped full speed through your veins, your heart beating at an unnatural rate. With one last final examination of the battle below, you quickly jumped out of the ship and landed elegantly on your feet.

Before any of the droids could turn around, you slashed through them with your blue lightsaber and pushed forward.

You continued to block blaster fire and as soon as you got closer to a few more droids, you raised your hand up, bringing the droids up with it and quickly formed your hand into a fist causing the droids to short circuit and crush into pieces.

Once the LA/AT ships landed, troopers were quick to get into fighting formation. Commander Wolffe, Boost, Sinker, and a few new recruits were quick to catch up with you as you deliberately blocked and slashed through various droids. The clustered together buildings on the bridge made the battle more difficult to move around and correlate properly.

You’re wondering eyes stopped on the sight of a tank moving foreword in the distance, no doubt preparing to strike. Everyone seemed to have noticed the distinct blue colored tank on the front lines of the separatists side.

You and your small group took cover behind a building right before a cannon blast had collided into the ground. You watched as a building crumbled, causing a few troops to yell out and take cover.

“So much for mild destruction” Boost shrugged his shoulders while Sinker snickered as he gripped onto his blaster rifle.

You peeked over the side of the building, glancing around for any potential advantage points. Your eyes landed on explosive barrels that were planted just near the active tank.

“Wolffe could you maybe fire a few shots at those barrels” you gestured your head in the direction of the explosives. Wolffe shifted in his spot, nearly leaning over you to get a look at the explosives.

Wolffe retreated backwards to avoid the possibility of being shot at “Will do” he nodded his head and positioned himself, focusing for a moment before firing a single blaster bolt, triggering the explosive barrels.

The tank exploded, alongside a few droids that were close by. With the tank gone, this gave you all a much greater advantage.

“I’m gonna lead first, I just need you and your men to cover me till I reach the center of the city” you turned your head towards the group of six. Boost and Sinker glanced at each other while the shines titled their heads in question. Wolffe raised his eyebrows slightly, his helmet raising up a bit which you instantly could tell he was about to scold you.

“Are you crazy? That’s suicide! You could-“

“I’m well aware Commander, but now is not the time to be arguing about this! Causing anymore destruction to the city, especially on a bridge, is the last thing we want to do” your eyebrows knitted together as you looked at his visor.

“Likewise, I trust you all with my life! Just this once, for the sake of the mission, follow my orders” Wolffe stared at you, he was indeed concerned for your safety, but he was a good soldier. Good soldiers followed orders.

He tilted his head down before nodding in approval “Fine. We’ll be sure to cover you” your face relaxed, you grinned at him before you turned away from the group and continued onward.

“That’s a Jedi for you” Boost half-heartedly joked while observing his commander who he could tell was internally worrying himself.

“Tell me about it” Wolffe grumbled before pressing down on the public comm link channel.

You heard faint orders from Wolffe telling the others through his comm to cover you as you proceed to clear out the rest of the way while they trailed behind you, making sure to finish off whatever you left untouched.

As the attack on the ground continued, the droids slowly started to retreat back, losing more ground as you and your men continued to take down all protocol droids, and various other commando droids. That high peak of adrenaline was quickly cut short

One of the various ships from the sky spiraled downwards causing Wolffe to yell out to ‘take cover’. You were quick to move out of the way of the crash landing ship. The impact caused a huge explosion, leading to various debris to fly around, damaging clustered buildings even more. After the explosion subsided, it was an obvious indication that the ship had caused a blockade, dividing you from the rest of the troops.

“Y/n are you alright?” You heard Wolffe shout from the other side of the crashed ship, you took a quick glance behind you and noticed droids coming your way. You snapped your head back towards the ship's direction, you cupped your hands around your mouth:

“I’m alright! Just find another way around!” You quickly ignited your lightsaber and heard a faint ‘yes sir’

Using your force sprint, you launched yourself off of a nearby crate. Having landed much closer to the enemy line, you reached your hand out and pushed half of the droids backwards, causing them to pile on top of each other.

You reached out to one of the battle droids and pulled it towards you, making sure to impale it with your blade. Once done, you discarded the battle droid by forcefully pushing it towards an oncoming group of droids, knocking them all off of their feet. You dodged multiple blaster bullets, before exterminating the remaining droids that were left.

You looked around, making sure there were no more droids. Sure enough there weren’t any around you. Looking briefly up at the sky you watched in awe as your master perfectly piloted his starfighter, taking out countless separatist ships alongside the fleet. You admired for just a moment, reminiscing on all the fond memories you had being raised and taught by Plo.

Emotional attachments were unacceptable in the Jedi order, but when it came to the people you truly cared about, it didn’t matter to you. You were not ashamed to accept that Plo Koon took on the mantle of a fatherly figure. If it weren’t for his kindness and his heart, you would’ve been nothing but a heartless, uneducated individual.

You were grateful for him being the man that you knew you could rely on.

Your body had suddenly flinched. A slow aching pain in your head started to form. You brought one hand up against the side of your head and pressed your fingers down. The sounds of incoherent yelling, conflict, and raw emotion was overriding your senses.

Suddenly everything stopped.

Your face was scrunched up in confusion as you wondered what that strange encounter was.

A shiver ran down your spine. The small act made you realize how unbalanced the force had become. Your eyebrows raised. You quickly looked up at the sky, and witnessed in horror as your masters ship was being shot at.

Your eyes widened and you started to panic as one of your own fleets pilot got a direct hit on Plos ships wing.

Your eyes stared blankly at the receding ship as it crashed into one of the cities towers right where the blockade was located. Your breath hitched, as you slowly walked backwards, now feeling terrified.

Your body shook unnaturally, unable to process the scene right before your eyes. Your bottom lip quivered, you looked down at your hand that was holding your lightsaber hilt, watching as it shook. Your instinct to fight and survive kicked in.

One faint nearby voice caused you to start sprinting towards the opposite direction. Yells had erupted and soon all hell broke loose.

You were stuck in a crossfire.

Pressing down on your comm link, you input your coordinates and sent them instantly to your droid. You brought your comm link close to your mouth and started urging your droid to start dispatching from the hanger.

“EV, I need you to autopilot the ship and come to my coordinates now!” You activated your lightsaber and skidded to a halt.

If it’ll take time for your ship to arrive, then you surely would make time.

The first initial sighting of one of the troopers, you quickly reached out towards a convenient stand and threw it towards the direction of the soldier. Knocking him and a few others that trailed behind him down.

Blaster fire soon erupted and you worked quickly by blocking and dodging. Every so often you’d notice a stray object at the corner of your eye and threw it towards their direction.

You knew you wouldn’t last for long with just continuously blocking blaster fire and throwing objects at them. You had to work quick before all odds were lost.

What worried you the most was how familiar they all were with how you fought and your infamous strategies. They knew how fast you could think and work which took them little to no time to adjust to your fast pace.

With your complete focus on the enemy in front of you, you completely casted aside your focus behind you.

A fiery graze against your bicep caused you to hiss and your hand holding your lightsaber faltered as another blaster fire grazed your wrist. You made a quick glance to the side and noticed Wolffe and a few other troopers forging their way towards you.

You backed up, continuing to dodge and block as much blaster fire as you could keeping hasty eyes to keep track of your vulnerable points. As soon as you nearly backed up into an abandoned barrier you gave yourself a boost with the force and did a backflip over it, landing right behind it.

Quickly gaining your balance on your feet, you threw both your hands out in front of you and forced pushed the barrier towards the troopers. The screeching metal against the pavement made you grimace at the ear-wrenching noise.

The ends of the metal barrier scraped against the nearby buildings; the buildings crumbled and collapsed into debris. The impact against the pavement caused a mixture of dirt and particles to fly in the air. One accidental inhale and you started coughing violently.

You wavered your hand in front of your face to shoo away the mixture, you scanned the perimeter and quickly turned around, continuing on your way.

You were nearly coming to the end of the giant rock arc, as it became more prominent in size. Fast winds soon started to pick up, now bringing in the atmospheres dense fog.

The motivation to survive turned futile. All you were doing at this point was wasting your energy, using up all your stamina. Everything in training felt like it was thrown out in space. You were unable to control your breathing, you continued to be reckless by using force techniques that were far more advanced and out of your radar.

The sound of your comm link beeping made you look down at your forearm. EV had sent a signal that the ship had just reached the atmosphere. You quickly imputed your new coordinates and sent the signal to your droid.

The fog had settled in, completely covering the whole area of the bridge. You listened around carefully, the sounds of the howling wind breezing by.

You clutched onto your saber, thumb already placed on the ignition pulse. You backed up slowly and carefully avoiding the rubble on the ground. The sound of metal scraping against the pavement made your eyes move around frantically.

You naturally synced into your fighting stance, preparing for the un-proclaimed attack. A gust of wind blew over your face, the cold stinging your skin. You continued to shuffle backwards cautiously, trying to pinpoint the enemy.

A sudden arm wrapped around your neck, causing you to gasp. On instinct you brought both of your hands up to the armored arm, and started to pry at the hold.

“Enough Jedi scum” the voice seethed, your eyes widened at the familiar gruff voice. Wolffe quickly brought his pistol towards the side of your head. You let one hand go of his arm, bringing it up towards his hand that held the pistol. You forcefully pushed against the pistols body, knocking it right out of his hand.

The small act caused Wolffe to become distressed as he struggled to maintain a decent hold on you. Making quick moves, you gripped onto his arm that was wrapped around your neck. You moved your body slightly forward, now handling his full body mass on your back, you body slammed him to the ground. His helmet had flung off of his head, discarded somewhere off to the side.

Wolffe yelped at the impact, he blindly moved his hand on the pavement, attempting to find his discarded pistol. You kicked the nearby pistol away from arms reach and stared blankly down at your commander.

He grimaced and glared up at you, distaste coursed through his system, his one good eye showing nothing but pure hatred. His chest rose up and down frantically.

In a situation like this, you’d feel proud of yourself. But this was reality.

He jutted up, quickly you stuck your hand out in front of you and pushed him back down to the ground with the force. Wolffe attempted to move his body, but to no avail he was unable to budge.

“I’ll kill you, I’ll kill each and everyone of you Jedi!” your hand that you were using started to shake. You felt the beskar pendent press against your chest, feeling as if it was burning a hole through your skin.

“Why? Why are you doing this to us? To me?” You whispered the last part to yourself. You studied Wolffes face, as his forehead creases became more prominent.

“Good soldiers follow orders” chills ran down your spine as you continued to watch Wolffe struggle underneath the force hold. The last strand of hope you held onto for dear life finally snapped.

You were mortified. Your stomach churned at the thought of how little time it took for them to change their motives on the both of you. Why? Why was this happening? You wished you could cry and scream out in anger, but now wasn’t the time.

The recognizable sounds of your starfighters engine became more distinct and loud. Looking up you noticed as your starfighter broke through the dense fog. You almost sighed in relief before gunships followed suite, attempting to gun down your ship.

In one swift move, you wavered your hand to the side, Wolffes whole body slid towards the direction your hand went. His plastoid armor scrapping against the duracrete.

Your feet moved on their own as you ran from the pilots blaster fire. Heat creeped up upon the back of your neck as more shots were fired down on the ground. Your frantic eyes observed as your starfighter had made a loop under the first bridge.

Your feet had sped up, your legs ached and the muscles burned.

Once you were close to the side edge of the bridge, anxiety and doubt started to cloud your mind. You shook the thoughts away as best as you could and dived off the bridge with no hesitation.

Falling felt so slow. The tension and the wind wavered against your body. You closed your eyes to calm yourself, keeping your attention on the distant engines coming closer.

You opened your eyes, and reached your hand out as your ship dived down with you, keeping a decent distances away from you. You pulled yourself towards the open hatch of the ship, your fingertips barely grazing the rim of the hatch. Continuing to reach, your fingertips soon got a hold of the rim; you laid your hand flat on the matrix armor and held on with a death grip as you struggled to bring your other hand to grasp the ring.

Maneuvering your body quickly, you got into the cockpit and closed the hatch. Pressing a few buttons you grabbed a hold of the steering handles and took over the starfighter.

Fighter ships soon trailed behind you, erupting in blaster fire.

“Shake them off of me EV” you flipped a switch and your droid whirled it’s head around and took over the small blaster cannon that was attached to the underside of the ship.

Your fingers quickly grazed over the small screen, blindly you input random coordinates to a random sector, one that you knew would be far away from the republic based planets.

Pulling back the steering handles, your ship pulled up fast. The dense fog soon engulfed your whole perimeter, small drops of water tapped violently against the viewport as the ship started to increase in speed. You’d managed to lose most of the enemy ships in the fog besides one.

Explosions erupted right next to your ship, shaking the entirety of the vessel violently. The flashing lights blinding you for a split second. Beeps started to alarm, signaling an oncoming missile was locked on your ship.

You embraced yourself and turned the stirring handles to one side, your ship soon started rotate at a fast pace. At the last minute, you made a loop over the ship that was in back of you and quickly went back in front of it. The tactic worked and the missile had struck the fighter ship that was trailing behind you. The impact had caused you to jolt forward and the ship shook while you successfully made it out of the planets atmosphere.

Those on the ground, were unable to tell if you were desecrated or escaped.

A now helmeted Wolffe stared up at the fogged sky, watching as a small flicker of light cascaded for a second before fading into nothing.

“Sir, there’s been no word from the piloting fleet as for the whereabouts of the Jedi’s ship” Wolffe looked towards Sinker before looking back at the foggy atmosphere.

“Tell the others to call off the search for now, we’ll be sure to hunt down the Jedi until they’re executed under Order 66” Wolffe walked off towards the remaining transport ships that were left unoccupied on the bridge.

Wolffe glanced over to the side, observing as his men inspected the remains of Plo Koons ship to assure the Jedi’s death was a success.

There was faint ache in his heart that he easily ignored. He turned away and continued to the transport ships.

****

You adjusted the rods of wood, and forced them down into the ground to keep them stable. The small fire crackled, the source of light wavering and illuminating the small shelter you made.

You landed on some unknown planet and were fortunate enough to have found few scraps of material near your location. You let out a soft huff as you sat down on the ground underneath the tarp. You wrapped your robes around you tighter, feeling a small gust of wind overpass your face and exposed skin.

The planet was cold and quiet, only sounds of a few chirps from birds in the distance and rustles from the trees. Your arm and shoulder blade hurt, all from the blaster fire that had managed to get a snag at your body.

You had no medical equipment, no bacta patches, nothing. You worried that your wounds would get infected if they weren’t treated anytime soon.

Carefully, you slid your robes off your body, alongside your top. You shivered at the contact the cool wether made with your upper bodies skin. The tank top that you left on did nothing to help with the cold.

You tore a long strip of fabric off your lose white ribboned tabard. You eyed the length of the fabric before wrapping it around your left side bicep. You winced at the uncomfortable contact the fabric made, it rubbed lightly against the blaster wound that was still oozing blood.

Tightly securing it with a decent knot, you ripped another piece with the same length and wrapped it around your dominate hands wrist. You grimaced at the irritating sting, your wrist hurt more than your bicep. You carefully put back on your robe, not bothering to secure it around you.

Letting out a shaky sigh you pinched the bridge of your nose.

Your eyes gazed down at the small fire, heat barely radiating from the flames. You brought your legs up to your chest and hugged them. EV beeped more quieter as the astromech droid wheeled up to you.

“We’re not going home EV” your voice was hushed, nearly cracking. EV beeped lowly, shifting to stand on its two legs. “Yeah bud...it’s over. Theres nothing for us to go back to...not unless we want to be killed like the others” you turned your head towards EV, placing a hand on its dome before retreating it back to pull at your robes. You sat quietly for a moment, thinking over thousands of thoughts that were running through your head.

“Everything we’ve been through...the losses, the near death experiences....we did it all for nothing.” You whispered to yourself, accepting your once overthought ideology that the Jedi were bound to fall to ruins at some point. But not in a million lightyears did you ever think the jedi would end like this.

You gently rubbed at your temples to sooth the small headache. EV opened up one of its panels, outstretching one of its tools. A blue hue started to illuminate, broadcasting one of the voice files that your droid commonly used for decoding or recording private messages.

The conversation had started off quiet. You were almost incapable of interpreting the words correctly, which you guessed that during the time of the recording, your droid was far off in distance from whoever the recipients were.

“You plan on giving the beskar pendent to them?” Your head slightly perked up, relishing at the familiar voice you could pinpoint out of all the clones.

“Yes...may not be much, but it’s all I can offer” there was a faint cling. On instinct, you brought your hand up to the pendent that rested against your chest.

You shut your eyes, squeezing them before burying your face into your hands. Curling into yourself more, you adjusted your hood over your head, and laid down on your un-injured side. A small piece of cloth was the only thing separating you from the dirt and blotched grass.

“I’m sure it will be enough for them. Besides, what that pendent is made out of is worth more then our own lives.” your eyes stayed glued to the fire as you continued to listen to the voice memo.

“I’m just worried that the gift won’t...benefit the both of us” Wolffe sighed to himself, feeling frustrated and conflicted from however he was feeling.

“It takes time Wolffe, you just need to have more patience’s, be more understanding of people instead of getting irritated and irrational over the simplest things” Comet studied Wolffes face, watching as his features softened before his brows creased together.

“Still, what can you do? A clone and a soon to be jedi knight going against the republics law and having secret retaliations together? We could both get in trouble, even worse, we can both get exiled which is the last thing I want to do” Wolffe stared down at the ground, compressing his human emotions. Comet shook his head and glanced to the side before looking back at Wolffe.

“I’d recommend you give it to them, even if you’re heavily influenced by wanting to be the best commander you can be. Then again, most rules are meant to be broken to help you improve and grow as a person” it was silent for a moment before Comet continued on “Plus their droid may just as well confess for you” Wolffe looked at Comet, then turned his head, witnessing as your droid retreated back to the hanger.

The audio files soon stopped playing, everything fell silent, just the sounds of the wind and the fire crackling. You blinked away your tears and looked at EV who beeped sadly.

“So that’s why you were late and Wolffe complained about you?” you said softly, gracing a sad smile on your lips before the corner of your lips turned down once more.

The real meaning behind the gift felt like a punch in the gut. It hurt. Terribly. It was worth more than simple admiration or representation of a ‘thank you’. There was much more behind the necklace then what was explained.

But what hurt more was the horrendous heartbreak and betrayal. The only people that you ever trusted and loved were gone. Plo, the only man you’d ever cherished and looked up to was wiped out of existence. The men you worked alongside with that you cared for wanted you dead. And Wolffe, Wolffe was a much more sensitive topic.

You were alone. You were alone and you’ve never felt more useless your whole entire life.

“I just wish we had more time” you murmured quietly to yourself, feeling as your eyes watered in mockery. You shut your eyes and a warm tear slid over the side of your nose and fell. Your tired and sore body ached for rest. Distant thunder rumbled, the noises seamlessly getting closer every minute.

The muffled noise lulled you into slumber as you snuggled into your robes even more.

The least you could do for yourself is rest one last time.

A/N: i wanted to create an experience with a genuine order 66 approach. since not much of the planets city was described, i had to do a bit of tweaking and research during the time to get it as accurate as possible. as you can tell i tried my best to write some action and i hope it fulfilled the standards. overall i hope it made up for my absences and broke your heart.

with love,

- 𝔈 🤍

#commander wolffe x reader #commander wolffe x you #Commander Wolffe x yn #starwastheclonewars #star wars x reader #the clone wars x reader #star wars fanfiction #star wars imagine #tcw x reader #tcw imagines #tcw wolffe #star wars the clone wars imagines #ohmsjedi

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hotdamnhunnam · 3 years

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Midnight Ride: Grab & Grind

A/N: Who doesn’t love every damn inch of Jax Teller?? Anyone else obsessed with this man’s magnificent hands and his muscular thighs in particular? Yes? This fic is based on the below request—tonight you and Jax are out for a ride... he discovers your kink for his hands and his thighs, which leads to fingering and thigh riding and fucking you on his bike, right on the roadside.

Pairing: Jax Teller x F!Reader Warnings: smut, swearing, dirty talk, light choking, fingering and finger sucking, thigh riding, public sex (roadside fucking), dom!Jax Request: SUPER HOT request for hand/thigh kink + public sex from @littlebennettwitchsblog

Word Count: ~2.3k

Suddenly you’re not on the road. You’re in it.

You really fucking feel that, right this minute. That was how your badass biker boyfriend had always described it, before he decided to show you firsthand—what happens around 92 miles an hour: the rush of the engine, full-on tunnel vision, the pounding, the presence, the power. You never got just what he meant, till tonight.

This is not your first time going out for a ride, on the back of his bike—but the speed is up high, and you finally feel what it’s like.

It feels kind of like sex, to be honest. You’re just so damn immersed, like this moment contains the whole universe. Jax fucks just like he rides—throwing in his whole heart, thrusting hard, deep inside—and the sex that you’ve had with this god of a man is the best of your life, every night. So it’s no real surprise you feel so fucking hot as you cling to him tight. Pussy throbbing with heat, thrumming up from the engine beneath. No doubt soaking the seat.

From where you sit behind Jax, tits crushed as you cleave to his back, with his denim-clad ass pressed against your wet crotch, you just take in the moment and watch. Watch his hands on the grips. Damn, those hands... strong and sculpted and skillful and so fucking big. Lick your lips. Then your gaze wanders down toward his thighs—God, so meaty and thick—and you start feeling needy and can’t help but grind into him with the slightest motion of your hips.

It’s pure animal instinct; you cannot be blamed for this. Cannot be faulted for causing your man to lose focus. It’s his fault that he fucking noticed. Of course he did.

The engine starts to slow, and then next thing you know, he’s pulled up to the side of the road.

“Get off,” he orders as soon as the engine stops, bossy and gruff.

You can tell that you’ve brought out the side of Jax you most love. Raunchy and rough. “Mmm, get off?” you repeat, wiggling playfully on the seat. “That’s the plan, baby...”

“Don’t make me say it again,” he demands, knowing his dominance drives you crazy. “Get the fuck off the bike and stand there on the side of the road. And take off all your clothes.”

Oh hot damn... you hasten to obey him as fast as you can.

“This is what happens when a bitch tries to distract me while I ride,” Jax chides, casually seated on his bike, watching you follow orders just the way he likes. “Shut up and strip while I decide just what I’m gonna do to you tonight.”

Ugh, you have never been so motherfucking turned on. You love how stripping out in the open for Jax feels so naughty and wrong. The power that he has over you is so savage and strong.

Jax seems to love it too, setting aside his helmet, lighting himself a cigarette as he drinks in the sight of you. Taking a long lazy drag, sitting back to admire the view. Thinking of all the fifty shades of filthy shit he’d love to do.

It’s just about midnight, on some random ass stretch of freeway, so thankfully nobody else is in sight. Not as if you would care anyway, even if there were cars driving by—when Jax gives you an order, you have to obey. Powerless to defy. Your submissive desires too fierce to deny. He’s so hot you might actually die.

Beneath the highway lights, his blue eyes shine like flaming ice. “Don’t you look nice. What a pretty fucking sight to see. You like being a nasty little slut for me, buck naked on the roadside?”

“Yes, sir,” you desperately whimper.

“Good girl,” he purrs, stirring your praise kink and making your toes curl. “But you know you were being bad before, you dirty fucking whore. Grinding against me with that greedy little cunt of yours.”

Just at those words, you basically just came. You bite your bottom lip and bow your head in shame.

“Come here, slut.” Jax strips off his kutte, and then beckons you toward him and pats the backseat of his ride, blowing a wisp of smoke into the heat of the night. “I ain’t mad. Just tell me what got you so wet and worked up like that.”

You would if you could speak, but you’re so fucking weak that you honestly can’t at the moment.

“Put this on,” he orders, holding out his kutte as you approach, helping to drape the heavy leather over your bare shoulders. Jax has a total kink for seeing you in his clothes. No single piece of clothing more so than his kutte. “Don’t want you getting cold. Stay nice and hot for me, you dirty fucking slut.”

The summer night’s not cold at all, but whatever. You get what he meant, and everything feels that much hotter all wrapped up in leather. This well-worn vest always smells and feels like the essence of Jax Fucking Teller.

Settling onto the seat of his bike just as told, you keep your eyes on him, while his cut a hole through the core of your soul. He casts his cigarette to the ground. Stands up as you sit down, just to reassert his fully dominant role. Looks like he is about to devour you whole.

“Lean back a bit more,” he says. “Good little whore. Spread your legs.”

Every word off of his lips is literal sex. The way you’re situated, you lean back until you’re resting on the handlebars, not even just the faintest bit ashamed of what a total slut you are. You hardly even register the sound of passing cars. All you can see is Jax, his inner darkness bigger than the sky and deeper black, his inner fire brighter than the stars.

“Now you’re gonna give me the answers I wanted,” he snarls, as he savors the sight of his leather-clad girl, all spread out on his Harley, your tits and pussy laid completely bare for him and all the world to see. His big dick energy is so insanely rich. “Tell me—what got you so needy and wet? Go ahead, bitch. Be honest.”

As you begin to form words to respond... he suddenly comes closer and, before you even know what’s happened, one of his dominant hands is on your cunt.

“This help you out?” he taunts. “Bringing some words up to that filthy little mouth?”

No, quite the opposite—his long thick fingers toying with your clit, teasing against your soaking slit... ugh, holy fucking shit.

On instinct, your hips grind to press yourself into his hand, your whole body a quivering mess as you yield to this god of a man. He lifts his other hand up toward your face then, tracing your lower lip with his thumb. Just a few seconds in and already you’re aching to cum. He’s a merciless dom, making you so damn wet for him—dropping his hand from your mouth to your neck, cutting words off before you can even attempt to beg.

Jax never chokes you too hard... but it’s always so perfectly just hard enough, to wield total control over your every breath and each beat of your heart. Just the way you love, brutal and rough. You love knowing that these masterful hands could murder a bitch in a minute. Get off on that shit like nobody’s business.

Then he’s bringing his other hand up toward your lips, sticky and slick from all the ways he made your pussy drip. Forcing you to lick your juices off of his fingertips.

“You like the way I fucking own you with both hands, bitch?” Jax wickedly teases, as the hand around your throat squeezes. “Got a thing for this?”

Fuck, yes, you have a thing. A whole damn kink. The dirty bastard fucking knows it. This is how he fucking shows it.

“Yeah, know you love it. Such a kinky piece of shit,” he sneers—he knows his degradation is pure music to your ears. Getting you wetter with each dirty word you hear. God, you could listen to Jax Teller going on like this for years...

Soon he finally releases his strangling grip. Slips his slick fingers out of your gasping mouth, making you moan hard and loud. Then bends down toward your face, just to steal a taste, sucking your own arousal from your lips. Groans in bliss as he savors the flavor, while letting his hands wander over your body and grope you all over—grabbing at the soft globes of your tits, gripping onto the curve of your hips—every touch of his skin upon yours opening a whole other dimension of pleasure...

“Mmm, what else gets you so fucking wet? Tell me, princess,” he asks, one hand reaching around to dig his fingers into the flesh of your ass. Blunt nails marking you up as the property of Jackson Fucking Teller. “Go ahead; be a good slut and tell me what else.”

Then you suddenly feel something rubbing against your center, a delicious pressure—Jax has shifted so that his jean-clad thigh is wedged in between your spread legs—letting you grind your pussy against the rough denim, soaking in the thickness of him... everything about him is pure sex, and you’ve never been so damn wet, ever.

“You like that?” he laughs, a sadistic snicker that has you wrapped so fucking tight around his finger. “Filthy fucking slut. Like these big hands grabbing all over you? While you grind that pussy up against my thigh just like a greedy little whore would do?”

Jax knows full well you lack the power to respond. He takes the answer from the throbbing of your cunt, obscenely wet, the way your sex-drunk eyes roll back into your head, the way your breathing comes in speechless groans and grunts.

All of a sudden then he shifts position, leaning back against the bike himself and lifting you on top of him—given how deep you’ve sunken in total submission, he’s obviously dominating from the bottom. Holding you in place against his thigh, Jax lets you take it for a ride. He fucking smirks, watching his dirty little girl getting to work, his firm grip in control of your hips as they frantically wriggle and jerk. You’re pretty sure you’ve fucking died.

Your man has never needed words to know what turns you on. To know exactly what you want. You never had to say a thing, about your kinks—his hands, his thighs... Jax never fails to read your mind, and it’s quite honestly divine.

Then soon enough, he’s finally set to dick you down, all good and rough, spinning your whole body around, so he can fuck you from behind. He spanks your naked ass and yanks your hair violently back, your moans and his echoing out into the night.

Leans down to whisper filthy shit into your ear—praising your pussy for being so wet and so tight, even as his massive cock splits you open wide... then gripping hard onto the handlebars, to anchor every thrust as he drives in so hard—like your whole body is a fucking Harley made for him to steer. Slamming his dick so deep it’s bringing you to tears. For all you know the whole damn world is watching what you’re doing here—on some level you hear cars whizzing by with hoots and honks, cheering you on. It feels so fucking wrong. But just because it’s Jax, so fucking right.

Especially now with the words he says next as he plows even deeper inside, growling loud with his grip on the handlebars tight, as he drives into you all spread out on the back of his bike. “Now this is a fucking ride.”

Now you’ve actually died.

Cum so hard you see stars and forget who you are. Stricken deaf dumb and blind, the inside of your mind black and bright as the fucking night sky.

By the time you’re coming back to life, Jax has laid out his flannel along the roadside, a little makeshift blanket where you can lie down, so you don’t have to settle your freshly fucked ass on the ground. It’s perfect—plaid, just like a real picnic blanket, you think as he plops you down onto the shirt, flopping down next to you with his own upper body bare against the dirt. Whatever sticks and stones there may be underfoot, you’re protected. His flannel beneath your butt, your whole torso wrapped up in his kutte. The last thing that he wants is for you to get hurt. And with him, you always know you won’t.

You feel so damn blessed for the love that you’ve found. Sometimes it’s just the little things that count. Jax Teller has the biggest dick ever, and though you love it when it’s hard, he has an even bigger heart. It’s such a fucking treasure, and you love it when it’s soft. You fucking love the way he loves.

The two of you spend the whole rest of the night staring up at the stars, counting among the constellations all the ways you love each other and just how lucky you are. Making out like teenage lovers, and laughing about all the kinks you have yet to discover. Losing yourselves in love on the side of the road to the rhythm of randomly passing cars. 92 miles an hour, hearts racing at 92 miles a minute. The road is a part of you both, in this moment; your midnight ride’s not nearly finished. The passions that you’ve awoken on the back of his bike have no limits.

You’re not just on the road... you’re in it.

***************

Hope you enjoyed this!! Would love to hear if you did! 🤗❤️

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tomtenadia · 3 years

Text

Remember Us - 7

I know we are in full Rowaelin month but I thought to give you part 7 as a present...

There is a small library scene in perfect theme with Day 4. (This is not part of Rowaelin month. Just a coincidence)

The chapters are getting less angsty. As I mentioned in a post a few days ago... i Finished the story and it has 10 parts. That was the original plan and I promise a HEA

-------

Rowan had spent the entire day going through all of their albums. Evalin had offered to look after Freyja, but instead he had kept the girl in his arms while sitting on the carpet and and album in front of him.

He had just finished the one about Thomas and now opened the one dedicated to his daughter. They were both still a working in progress as it looked like Aelin would just record the stages in their lives.

“Look, who is this one?” The little girl pointed at the picture and babbled something.

“This is you.” He told her in a loving tone “the most precious thing in our lives with your brother.”

“You did it, Fireheart.” Rowan kissed the head of an exhausted Aelin, while the doctors were busy cleaning and checking on their daughter.

The nurse walked to them with a bundle in her arms and gave it to Aelin “I think your daughter is ready to meet you.” And placed the baby on Aelin’s chest.

Rowan sat at her side, his arms around her shoulder as he drew closer his two women.

“She is like you, Ro.”

He kissed her forehead “I love you both. Madly.”

In another photo he saw Thomas in the hospital bed near her mother, kissing his sister head and the caption read Thomas is officially a big brother and he finally gets to meet his sister.

“ ‘Mas” babbled Freyja, pointing at the photo.

“Yes, that is your brother.”

Page by page he followed his daughter life and as it happened for Thomas, some moments became familiar all of a sudden.

Looking at photos had been a great idea but with Aelin’s captions had been even better as it was as if someone was actually telling him the story.

He looked at a couple of more albums but then he felt an headache coming and his vision was getting tired as well, so he grabbed Freyja and went to lie down on the sofa, making sure that she was tucked in safely between him and the back of the sofa. Evalin was busy doing chores around the house. He pulled the little girl to his chest and he started humming a tune while his hand caressed her head.

Not long after they were both asleep.

Evalin appeared back in the living room not long after and when she saw the scene in front of her she almost cried. Then she took her phone and snapped a picture and sent it to Aelin Your husband and your daughter are having some quality time together.

“How’s the study session going?” A younger Rowan paused beside a table in a university library.

The blonde woman in front of him groaned in exasperation “med school. Of all the degrees I choose from, I went for the worst one.” Her head collapsed heavily on the books in front of her “I want to be a neurosurgeon, I don’t care about the kidneys. Why am I studying this crap?”

Rowan smiled and placed a cup of coffee on the table “you need caffeine.”

Aelin lifted her head “yes, in IV.” She extended her arm and Rowan chuckled “you are the doctor, you will have to perform that on yourself.” He laughed and patted her head “I can tell you the legal repercussions of me performing such a procedure without a licence.”

Aelin grabbed her coffee and drank avidly “smartass.”

“A smartass you love?”

“Keep dreaming, Whitethorn.”

When he woke up again he was not ready for the splitting headache. He tried to sit up but dizziness hit him hard and then a wave of nausea. He jumped off the sofa but crashed on the carpet. Rowan fought to stand up but his body refused to obey “Evalin,” he croaked, grabbing his head in his hands.

A moment later Evalin was at his side “Rowan, are you okay?”

He crashed back down on the carpet and groaned. Evalin slowly helped him to sit back up and she felt panic rise “I should call Aelin.”

“No,” said Rowan in a whisper as he stood shakily and sat at the opposite side of the sofa away from his sleeping daughter. He should not be around the kids. No one should be around him while he was in that state.

And in that instant nausea hit again and he grabbed his stick and slowly dragged himself to the bathroom, collapsed on the floor and emptied the content of his stomach in the toilet.

***

Aelin had just finished surgery when she noticed the worried text from her mother. Rowan was not well.

She changed from the scrubs, paged her second, told him she had a family emergency and that she had to go back home. They all knew her situation and he was understanding. She had finished her surgeries for the day so finishing early was not much of an issue.

She drove home with her heart racing with panic. She knew the complications after a brain injury and she was worried. Her mother had not specified what happened but her tone seemed frantic.

Once in front of the house she parked quickly and once in the house she found it quiet. Her mother was sitting on the sofa reading to Freyja and Thomas was on the carpet playing with his toy cars.

“Where is he?”

Evalin looked up at her “in bed. He was sick, complaining of strong headaches and he said he was tired.”

Aelin dropped her backpack and ran for the bedroom and found him asleep.

She walked to him and sat at his side at the edge on the bed and slowly caressed his head. Her strong, amazing husband looked fragile, tucked in bed and sleeping on his side. The time in the hospital had left his mark and his frame was now thinner. Her hand ran through his hair once again and then deposited a gentle kiss and in that instant his eyes popped open as she chastised herself for it.

“Hi you,”

“Hi,” his voice gruff “you are home.”

“Mum texted me that you were not well.”

He tried to sit up but Aelin kept him down “you need to rest. What are your symptoms?”

Rowan’s head collapsed back on the pillow “headache, dizziness and nausea.”

Aelin’s hand was in his hair again “it’s normal. From one to ten, how bad is the headache?”

“Seven.”

She stood and came back a moment later with a glass of water and a tablet “Just a light dose to help you a bit.”

Rowan took the water and the medicine and once he was done Aelin lay down at his side, snuggling close to him, her hand on his chest. Rowan’s arms as if on instinct went around her frame but did not hug her tight. He had no energy.

“I dreamt…” he closed his eyes for a second “I dreamt of us in the library. You were complaining about your degree and kidneys,” he told her softly “I brought you coffee.”

Aelin chuckled against his chest. She did remember exactly the day “that was when I started to fall for you.”

“Tell me,” he said, his lips brushing her hair.

“Somehow you had memorised my schedule,” she began her tale “so you would pop up in the library and keep me company studying. You with your laws and me with my crazy med stuff.” She looked up at him and found her husband staring at her “during my anatomy exam you offered to be my skeleton and I revised on you.” She flicked his nose and the gentle flinch of his nose reminded her so much of him, his usual reaction “At the end of a crazy exam you brought me cake and once my session of exams was over you asked me out.”

Rowan gave her a weak smile and she could see the tiredness in his face “you asked me to move in with you on my birthday and my present were the keys to your flat. I moved out of mine the next day and Aedion moved in with Lysandra and took my place.”

“Are we good friends with them?” He asked with interest. So far they had never discussed their friends and he thought it was time to try.

Aelin nodded “Aedion is my cousin. Lys and I were flatmates and she is my best friend.” Her hand brushed his hair once again, the gesture was relaxing and Rowan seemed to enjoy it too, his features much more relaxed “then we have Lorcan and Elide and the six of us kinda form a nice tight group.”

“Do they know about my condition?”

Aelin nodded “I explained to them and the only reason they haven’t visited is because I knew it was going to be too much so I told them to wait.”

“Thank you,” he said softly while his hand brushed her back “I can’t just yet.”

Aelin nodded again and his expression morphed as if he wanted to ask her something but hesitate. His hand moved “can I?” And Aelin knew what he meant. She took his hand and pushed it under her t-shirt and on her tiny baby bump “I don’t know yet if it’s a girl or a boy. I have a check up in two weeks and will see if we can find out the sex.”

His thumb moved gently as if to greet their child with his free hand he pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” he said a bit too quietly.

“I should let you rest,” Aelin tried to move but his hand grabbed her writs and pulled her back down against him. He had been enjoying that moment they had shared. His arms went around her frame and pulled her to him.

“You love to cuddle.”

“Do I?” He told her rising an eyebrow.

“Sometimes when mum takes the kids we do enjoy a lot of naked, adult cuddling.”

Rowan’s heart raced in terror “I am not…” he stopped “I can’t yet.”

“Shh…” said Aelin, placing a gentle finger on his lips “We are not doing anything you do not want to do.” She told him with love.

He pulled her even closer and tucked her head under his chin, and the position felt familiar all of a sudden, her scent enveloping his nostrils. Everything about her felt familiar, the shape of her body against his, her scent, they way she fit perfectly in his arms.

They were in silence for a moment until two small cyclones joined them.

“Dad.” Shouted Thomas quite loudly and Rowan groaned, his head not appreciating the decibels coming from his son.

“Quiet, Tom, dad is not well.”

The little boy zipped his lips and climbed in bed. Freyja padded to her father’s side and extended her arms in a gesture to be picked up. Rowan turned and lifted his daughter in his arms and pushed her under the blankets with Thomas and Aelin joined them a moment later.

“We are keeping company to dad but we need to be quiet. Can we do that?”

Thomas nodded eagerly and Freyja kept sucking on her pacifier. The little girl climbed on her father chest and Rowan rolled on his back to help her curl up properly. Thomas was tucked in at his side and Aelin’s arm reached over and enveloped them.

“Sorry, they really missed you.”

Rowan shook his head “this feels really nice and normal.”

Aelin smiled and brushed Thomas’ hair “believe me on a weekend it is, and if I am not working the four of us love a long morning in bed together.”

He chuckled and loved the image “What about the names?”

Aelin grabbed Freyja’s hand in her and kissed it “Thomas was a character in a sci-fi series that we both love. He is an Admiral and quite amazing. He is actually my fictional husband. Freyja, we took it from a mythology book.”

Rowan laughed “so I have competition.”

“Can you be an admiral?”

“I order you to kiss me, soldier.” Rowan felt a smile tug at his lips and Aelin stared at him with fondness. Then leaned forward and pressed a kiss on his lips.

“Bleah,” said Thomas in protest. Aelin stamped a big kiss on his cheek “feeling better now?” And the boy grinned and climbed down from the bed “lego.” And he ran away.

Aelin sighed “he has a lot of energy.” And now that her son space had been vacated she scooted closer to Rowan and her hand was on the girl’s back on top of Rowan’s.

“I love the kids. It’s been only a few days but I love them madly already.” He whispered looking down at his sleeping daughter. Then back at Aelin and for a brief moment he saw sadness in her eyes. Loving the kids had been easy. His feelings for her were far more complicated. He felt something but could not put a name on it yet.

“With you is…” he paused, searching for the right words. He had caused enough pain already “complicated. There is something, I can feel it, but I don’t know if it’s just the memories or my actual feelings.” His hand ran through his hair “I don’t know how to explain it clearly.”

Aelin kissed his forehead tenderly. For as much as she wanted her husband back, she was not going to rush him. He would need time and she was willing to wait. She had waited at his bedside for so long to have him awake again that she was happy to take even the small acts of affection he was willing to give her.

“I want you to have your husband back, and I am trying…”

“Shhh…” she said to him, a gentle kiss on his lips “I have him back, and I can see more of him coming back everyday. You don’t realise it but he is there.” She patted his chest “My husband is right here in my arms.”

Rowan’s hand grabbed the back of her head and pulled her to him for a fierce kiss. Aelin melted at the contact. The kiss felt like coming home and for a moment it swept away all her fears.

“Does your husband kiss you like that?” The smirk on his face and his playful tone was him and she pulled back, coming up for air.

“Seems like you remember this part very well.”

“It does help that my wife is stunning.”

Aelin smiled. He had called her his wife. Had he accepted his life? Had he accepted them?

She looked at him in his pine green eyes looking for an answer.

“Yes.”

#rowan whitethorn #rowaelin fanfic #rowaelin fanfiction #rowan x aelin #aelin galathynius #domestic fluff

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gay-ghosts-committing-crimes · 3 years

Text

But the Way That You Act Isn’t Good for Your Health

AO3 link here

Summary: Once upon a time, Alex's parents were cool. They cared deeply about him and his friends. Once upon a time, Alex hadn’t come out yet. OR Five times Alex’s parents were there for him and his friends, and the one time they weren’t.

Warnings: Homophobia, swearing, mention of conversion therapy

Words: 3,899

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Alex's stomach twisted and his fingers twisted into the hem of his shirt, tugging and pulling at it like it was a lifeline. The yelling outside continued. Beside him Luke patted his arm, his nine year-old face screwed up in concern for his friend. On his other side sat Reggie, leaning close and fidgeting with Alex's free hand. He was solemn too, but in a different way than Luke, closer to Alex's anxious tap-dancing heart.

Alex's chin jerked up as his dad opened the driver's seat door and stepped in, and he subconsciously tightened his grip on Reggie's hand.

"What's going on?" He asked, when his mom finally got in as well. It was supposed to be a fun outing for the boys; The day was warm and the beach was open, and the three nine year-old boys were tired of being cooped up inside. He stopped twisting at his shirt and his fingers moved to tapping at his leg when his parents shared a look.

Reggie pressed closer to his side, and Luke did his best to put his arm around them both.

"I've got you," He said gravely, his soft voice offset by the slight whistle caused by the gap left behind where a top tooth had once lived.

Alex's parents finished their silent conversation and Mary, Alex's mom, turned to face them.

"Sometimes people get angry and don't act well, but that doesn't mean it's right, okay? That man out there is one of those people right now, so you boys and I are going to stay in the car for a little bit while Mr. Mercer gets out and makes sure the man doesn't hurt that young lady, that sound good?"

Alex nodded and his breathing evened a little bit. The yelling was scary, but he knew his dad could handle it, his dad was the strongest man in the whole world.

Reaching across the console, Mr. Mercer gave Mrs. Mercer's hand a light squeeze.

"I'll be alright, Mary." Alex's mom gave a soft smile and nodded, but the crinkle in her brow stayed in its place.

"I know Paul, I love you." A quick kiss was pressed to her knuckles and then he was out of the car, the door closed behind him.

The three boys waited with bated breath as the shouting paused, started up again and then stopped abruptly. There was a low discussion, and even through the car Alex could tell the words were angry. He took Reggie's small hands in his own -he knew how his friend got when people yelled- and rubbed it with his thumb. Reggie gave him an appreciative smile, and Alex smiled back, glad that the action had helped calm them both down. A man rushed past the front of the car, pausing a moment to aim a kick at it before running off, swearing profusely. The three boys jolted and Mary's hand flew to her mouth with a gasp, but he didn't come back and they relaxed a fraction.

After another minute, Mr. Mercer returned to the car, slipping into the driver's seat silently and sitting there for a long moment. Finally he moved, putting the car in reverse and getting ready to pull out, then stopped abruptly. He turned to the backseat, studying the boys' faces.

"Boys?"

"Yes, Mr. Mercer?" they responded in unison.

"Always respect women. Treat them decent and keep them safe, okay? And the same goes for you, if someone isn't treating you right, get out of there, you deserve to be safe." The boys shared wide-eyed glances as Mr. Mercer started pulling out again, but they nodded anyway.

It took a long time for the boys to start talking again, but eventually the silence was broken by Luke, who elbowed Alex in the ribs.

"I think your dad is a superhero, 'Lex."

Alex thought of the girl his dad had protected, her face shiny with tears when he had managed to twist around in his seat to look, shiny but relieved, and he agreed. His dad was a superhero.

"Hey 'Lex? Is it... Is it okay if I come over to your house for a sleepover? Bobby can't and Luke-" Alex was already asking his mom before Reggie even finished his stumbling words, his voice tinny through the Mercer family's Nokia, knowing after a few years of friendship that his voice only wobbled on days where it was too much for him to be alone.

(Alone with two people. Two people who never stopped fighting for long except to criticize the kid that did everything to make them happy. Everything except be enough, apparently. Alex sometimes wished it was okay to want people to go to hell, but Reggie didn't want that, and his mom said that was bad... Still, Alex was Not a Fan of the Peters’ parents.)

And if Bobby wasn't available...

Bobby had shown up about a year prior, and Reggie had immediately decided that he was going to be a part of their friend-group. To Bobby's credit, he seemed to be fond of Reggie, and that was a quick in to the group in Luke and Alex's book. After a while, Bobby grew to be the one Reggie went to when he needed someone, but couldn't handle being around everybody. He'd go over to Bobby's and all of the other boy's gruffness would melt at the sight of him, and Bobby would make it okay.

Bobby was Reggie’s go-to, but Reggie was coming to him, so Alex needed to be there for Reggie.

"Mom?" He waited patiently as she finished putting the casserole she had been preparing in the oven, her blonde hair shimmering and haloed in the evening light coming in through the kitchen windows, and he was reminded of the art of Mary, Jesus’ mother, and how a golden halo had adorned her head too. His mom brushed her hands off and peeked in the oven one last time before tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear and turning to face him, eyes smiling.

“What’s up, bug?”

“Can Reggie come over?” And then her eyes were softening even more, and for a moment Alex wondered if Mary was as kind as his mom. His mom who always made sure to give Reggie an extra hug, to praise Luke on his singing, and to press a kiss to Bobby’s head and laugh when he twisted away and pretended that he hated it, even though a smile tugged at his lips. His mom who always knew just how to cheer his friends up. Alex thought about it for a minute more and then decided no, his mom was the kindest and prettiest out of all the moms, even Jesus’.

“Of course he can, I’ll even make my special macaroni and cheese!” Alex’s mom gave a small grin and ushered Alex back out of the kitchen. “Now scooch! I’ve got to finish the casserole.”

He giggled and let Reggie know that he could stay, that it was gonna be okay, that Reggie could probably even bring over the guitar he was starting to learn how to play, and they could jam together.

He glanced back at his mom, her hair still gold in the light, and grinned at her soft, tired, and slightly sad smile. She blew a kiss and tucked a strand of gold behind her ear, and then Alex was away again, cheering his friend up over the phone while he gathered some stuff for their sleepover.

Alex heaved a sigh and scrubbed a hand over his face; He had a terrible headache, and the way practice was going? He wouldn’t be surprised if the rest of the band did too.

“Okay Luke, I get we want this perfect, but it’s hot and I have a headache, is there any way we could take a quick breather?”

Luke, surprisingly, just gave a loose nod and flopped onto their couch, face in a weak scowl, more brought on by frustration at the music than any anger towards Alex. It had been a rough week at home for him, and in his mind their struggle with this song was probably one more confirmation that his mom was right, that his music was only dragging him and his friends down.

It tore Alex apart, to see Luke like that, so he slumped onto the space beside Luke, elbowing him slightly before relaxing into the cushion, making sure to “annoyingly” slouch against Luke. The couch was big enough for all four of them to squeeze together, and had taken three of them to carry it into the Mercer’s garage the day they had found it at some estate sale the summer before, and now it was a regular occurrence to find the boys gathered together, bodies tangled together haphazardly on the worn piece of furniture.

Soon, Bobby joined in, grumbling about how sweaty Luke was, but taking the time to ruffle his hair before settling in, patting the spot beside him for Reggie to take. Luke swatted at Bobby’s hand and rolled his eyes as he half-heartedly tried to shove Alex away, inevitably giving in to the crushing affection of his friends and sighing heavily.

They sat that way for a stretch, silence strung between them like unlit Christmas lights; Noticeable, and somehow liminal, waiting for something to flick them on. The thick air felt like an inverted weighted blanket, just as heavy but the direct opposite of comfortable, and Alex lazily found himself wondering if they should add Christmas lights to the garage.

“Alright, enough of the moping guys, we’ll get this!!” And then Luke was hopping up off the couch, so what if it was clear that the pep in his voice was fake? He turned back to the boys and swung his arms wide, “We just gotta take a short break and come back and whip this song.”

His smile was achingly wide (and painfully put-on) but Alex found himself smiling back. Luke might be a hardheaded dumbass sometimes, but they were still friends, and Alex wanted Luke to see that he wasn’t the failure he thought he was.

“Sure, because we were the ones moping,” Alex rolled his eyes and heaved himself up, tugging Reggie up behind him, and headed to the door, yelling back over his shoulder-

“Last one into my parent’s kitchen gets the armchair!”

The rest of the boys launched after him, knowing the stakes of being forced to sit alone on the Mercer’s uncomfortable armchair versus being able to crowd together on their couch was more important than whatever claims of friendship came before. Bobby attempted to shove Luke behind him, only managing to allow Reggie to get a head start, and scuffled at the doorway, Luke pulling at his shirt and biting at his hand.

“No fair man, I was already farther away!!”

Alex only laughed, throwing open the door to his house and making a break for the couch as the other boys tumbled in after him.

“Hey mom!” He called out, “The boys are trying to kill m-” He was interrupted by a decorative pillow to the face and a crow of laughter from Luke as Reggie gave Bobby a high-five.

“Oh hi boys, I didn’t know you’d be coming in today! Reggie, it’s so nice to see you again, how’s your sister?” Mary Mercer walked in smiling from the kitchen, wiping her hands on a towel.

“And Luke!! I haven’t seen you in weeks besides creeping into our garage to play that marvelous music of yours. When do you plan on giving us a concert? I expect a friends and family discount of course,” She winked and gave a small chuckle.

“Paul and I have loved hearing you boys practice, and you’ve developed so much just this summer! Of course, I’ve always loved your music, but lyrically? Why, you’ve become a genius when it comes to lyrics. We’re so proud of you.”

She squeezed Bobby’s shoulder and gave him a fond smile before heading back to the kitchen.

“I made some sugar cookies and lemonade; I’d planned to bring it out to you boys, but since you’re inside now… Well, might as well enjoy the air conditioning.”

Luke, who had practically bloomed like a flower previously wilting, followed her into the kitchen, his smile now genuine and brighter than the sun itself, and the rest of the band followed.

“Say Mrs. Mercer, do you think we really could do a concert?”

The boys had sat down at the kitchen table, quickly downing most of the cookies, and Luke had taken the pause in eating to probe what Mrs. Mercer had said earlier. She stilled from where she stood at the sink and hesitated before turning to look at the boys with a gentle smile.

“Of course I do, Luke. Mr. Mercer and I have always admired your talents, and all of you boys are amazing musicians. I would love to see you build your skills even more, and I’m certain other people would adore your music.”

Alex watched as Luke grinned and tucked into another cookie, warmth filling his chest.

And later, when his mom pulled him aside and asked if Luke was doing alright, he pulled her into a tight hug and replied, “I’m pretty sure he’s doing a lot better, thanks to you.”

Alex wasn’t sure what to think when his chest started tightening and his breathing became erratic and painful. Maybe he was dying. Maybe he had a terrible hidden sickness and now something had triggered it and, oh God maybe he was dying.

He was dying and he didn’t tell his mom that he loved her that morning, and Luke didn’t know that he was one of the most incredible songwriters Alex had ever known. He couldn’t breathe and Reggie didn’t know that he meant the world to Alex, and Bobby didn’t know just how fucking much Alex cared and how much he loved it when Bobby gave him one of his rare hugs.

Because now Alex was dying and he couldn’t breathe and everything was foggy and maybe he was sobbing but his chest was so tight that he couldn’t see how he could breathe in enough to cry, let alone sob. And this was it, wasn’t it? Alex was dying alone and it was so fucking stupid because how did he go from writing his essay for English homework to this? To this sobbing panicked mess, rocking on the floor?

He was fucking dying and it was on his kitchen floor. And he was freezing and sweating and God, his stomach hurt too and maybe he wasn’t dying, maybe Alex was just going to lay there and be tortured. Nope, he was going to die, and holy fuck he wasn’t ready for heaven. His heart was going a mile a minute, and of course this was going to be how he died and-

His death was interrupted by a hand on his shoulder and Alex tried jerking away but he couldn’t move. He could only shake and suck in for breath as the hand carefully pulled him into a sitting position and a low voice started pushing through the fog in his brain.

“Alex? Alex, bud… breathe with me, okay? It’ll be okay.”

But how could he fucking breathe? How could Alex breathe when it felt like his heart was going to explode at any second, his lungs captured in a vice, when his mind couldn’t hold onto a single thought for more than a second-

“Alex, you gotta work with me kid, you just gotta breathe, okay? Breathe in for as long as you can, and then hold that breath. You got it ‘Lex, c’mon, breathe with me. Alright, slow breath out now- you got it-”

And then the hand was his father, and the voice telling him to breathe was his dad, telling him he loved him and that it was okay, that Alex was okay.

Alex kept breathing, and his dad kept holding his hand, and telling him he could do it, that he was proud. Eventually Alex’s heart rate slowed, and while he felt nauseous and exhausted, he could breathe now.

It was okay, he was okay.

“Dad?”

“Yeah ‘Lex?”

“I… Thank you.”

“Always kiddo. And Alex?” Alex looked up at his dad and gave a weak hum. “If you have another panic attack, tell me? You don’t need to be going through that alone.”

Alex nodded and sagged back into his father’s waiting arms.

He was okay.

“Alex! C’mere really quick, I need your help with something!”

Alex looked up from where he sat cross-legged on the floor of his room at the sound of his dad’s voice. He sighed and pushed himself up, ruffling Bobby’s hair on his way out. The band had been brainstorming which songs to perform at their next gig, not that it was going to be very big, but Alex figured that Luke and Reggie were more of the brains of that particular operation, so he set off without a complaint.

Bobby swatted at his hand and rolled onto his back, closing his eyes and leaving Reggie and Luke to be the only one’s actually going through their songs.

“Yeah dad?” Alex leaned over the staircase railing, eyeing the way his father sat hunched over at the table, a scratch piece of paper in front of him, and a pencil tucked behind his ear. Paul Mercer was a tall man with piercing blue eyes, soft brown hair, and a wry smile. Alex liked to think he took after him, aside for the blondness of his own hair.

“Ah, Alex. Can you come over here? I’m making a list.”

Alex raised an eyebrow at that.

“O….kay?” He hopped off the last step and pulled up a chair beside his dad, taking a closer glance at the paper.

Extra blankets

Extra pillows

(extra clothes??)

Pool money for mini fridge

Add loft

“Dad, what’s all this for?”

His father scrubbed a hand over his face, pulling his hand down to rest his chin on his palm.

“I’ve been thinking, well, your mother and I have been, and… your friends…”

“Yeah?” Alex’s voice was sharp, but his dad was acting weird, and he was protective of the boys.

“They don’t have the best home life, so your mom and I were thinking about making the garage more your space. The couch is already in there, so we figured, if you boys wanted, to give it fully to the band. Blankets and pillows for when one of them needs to stay over, a fridge, which, granted, you boys would need to pay for part of it, some odds and ends you boys might need. What do you think?”

Alex turned his eyes up to his father’s and worked his jaw, his throat tight.

“Dad… That’d be great, yeah.”

His dad’s face broke into a relieved smile, and he clapped Alex on the back.

“Alright, well then. You can go back up, but if you think of anything to add, I’m drawing blanks for anything else.”

“Yeah, okay, thanks dad.”

When Alex walked back into his room a few minutes later, Luke and Bobby in an arm-wrestling competition on his bed, Reggie egging them on, he rolled his eyes and smiled.

He was grateful that his parents cared as much for these dumbasses as he did.

“Alright boys, break it up!” He sat on the bed with them, giving a yelp when Bobby launched at him and put him in a headlock before rubbing his knuckles on his head.

He smiled.

+1.

“Supper’s ready!” Mary Mercer called from the dining room, and Alex took a shaky breath and rubbed his sweaty palms on the front of his shirt before walking into the room and sitting at the table.

His dad wandered in next, pressing a kiss to his mom’s forehead, and settling hard into the chair across from Alex.

“Ah! Chicken pot pie! Delicious.”

Alex gave a half-hearted nod of agreement, his stomach churning as he eyed the food in front of him. This was usually one of his favourite meals.

“Well, shall we say grace?” The family of three held hands, Mr. Mercer saying a short blessing while Alex sent up his own frantic plea.

Just let them accept me, God, please.

“-Amen.”

Mrs. Mercer began serving the food and Alex waited anxiously until all of their plates were full to interject.

“Hey mom, dad?” His stomach twisted harder, and he felt his face already heating up. His parents waited expectantly, his mom smiling encouragingly and his father giving a nod. He could do this.

“I’ve been thinking about this, and… I’ve been really struggling with it. It’s been this way as long as I remember, it’s not a big thing it’s just- I’m gay.”

There. It was out.

Alex’s shoulders were hunched, and his eyes tightly closed. A piece of silverware clattered on a plate, a gasp. Good sign or bad sign? Good sign or-

An awkward throat-clearing.

“Son.” His dad’s voice was low and oh shit, Alex had misjudged this and his dad wasn’t happy and-

He opened his eyes.

Fuck.

His father’s eyes were full of anger, and his mother… Alex’s mom sat in shock, her hand covering her mouth, the tablecloth in front of her a mess of food, her abandoned fork lying prone and vulnerable. Alex found himself relating to it.

“Alexander…” his mom tried, pausing a moment before giving a small unbelieving scoff. “Surely you’re joking. You know our family isn’t like that.”

“And!” Mr. Mercer added, “It’s not funny either.”

Alex’s stomach dropped even further.

“No, dad- mom- I’m actually gay. That’s just part of who I am! I’m still Alex, I just. Can’t make myself like girls.” And he should have stopped. He should have stopped before he even said anything, but he was anxious and why weren’t his parents saying it was okay? Why weren’t they saying they still loved him? And-

“I… like boys instead.”

If words could be knives then they could also be nails, and Alex had just successfully finished the construction of his very own coffin.

A chair slid across the floor, and then his father was pointing angrily and telling him to “get to his fucking room” but Mr. Mercer didn’t yell, and he didn’t swear. Mr. Mercer helped Alex through panic attacks over school, and told him stories about the ocean, and Mr. Mercer never, ever swore.

Except Alex was stumbling, shell-shocked and heartbroken, up the stairs and to his room, and his dad was turning back to his mom and saying “How the hell did we raise him to be a homosexual?” and Alex’s eyes were filling with tears, his chest was tightening up, and he couldn’t breathe.

He shut the door behind him, leaning against it and sliding to the ground as his breathing became even more ragged. Alex wasn’t okay and his parents weren’t okay with him, and as he felt another panic attack coming over him, he used the breathing exercises that the very same man who was now talking about kicking him out, had taught him.

Alex fell asleep to the sound of raised voices.

He woke up to a conversion therapy camp’s pamphlet being shoved under his door.

#alex #Alex Mercer #alex mercer's parents #bobby #bobby shaw #luke #luke patterson #Reggie #Reggie Peters #jatp #jatp fanfic #julie and the phantoms #julie and the himbos #felony writes shit

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leejungchans · 3 years

Text

— unexpected.

🆕 ask juliet anything!! | juliet’s masterlist

word count: 2.1k

warning(s): mentions of self-doubt, insecurities and intrusive thoughts; someone says some pretty harsh words to juliet here but nothing extreme

disclaimer: please keep in mind that the trainer mentioned in this is a completely fictional character hence why his name is never mentioned!!

set in june 2019; a few days after ateez’s first win for wave

summary: in which the boys help juliet when she gets a message from someone who she never expected, nor wants, to see again.

a/n: putting juliet in a bit of Pain™️ here 😔 as always, you are always welcome to leave feedback or chat with me!! 💕💕

As Seonghwa clears away the dishes after dinner, he notices Juliet curled up on the sofa with her phone in hand. Normally, he wouldn’t think much of it, given the other members are doing the same as they lounge around the living room. But one look at the maknae’s grave expression tells him that something is wrong.

Jongho, who’s been helping Seonghwa take the plates into the kitchen, catches him staring and follows his gaze. The two silently watch as Juliet types something on her phone before furiously tapping on the screen to delete whatever she wrote with a frustrated sigh, her long acrylic nails creating a crisp tapping noise. This draws the attention of the other six boys as they all turn to look at her with concern, though she doesn’t seem to notice from being so focused on her phone.

“Minyoungie, is everything okay?” Hongjoong finally asks, sitting up from his spot on the ground.

“Hm? Oh, yeah. I’m fine, don’t worry,” she reassures with a stiff smile, but it’s evident that something is clearly bothering her.

The leader gets up to sit next to her on the couch. “Do you want to talk about it? Or do you want some time to yourself first?”

Juliet contemplates his question for a few seconds before speaking again. “It’s nothing serious, I guess,” she admits, “but one of my former trainers at SM messaged me just before dinner asking me to meet up with him, and I don’t know how to respond.”

“Oh,” Hongjoong says. The mention of her former company causes the others to pay full attention to their conversation, knowing how unpleasant her experiences with a few of her former trainers were though she never talked about such incidents in detail. “Do you want to, though?”

“No,” Juliet responds immediately, expression turning cold. “Not now, probably not ever.”

“What happened with him?” Wooyoung asks before quickly adding, “you don’t have to tell us if you don’t want to.”

Juliet sighs, stuffing her phone into the pocket of her hoodie before hugging her knees to her chest. “No, no. I think it’s about time I told you guys what happened exactly, I guess I never did because it felt like there was never a right time to bring him up, and also because it feels stupid to talk about it when I haven’t seen him in years, and have no intention of changing that.”

Wooyoung pats her knee comfortingly. “Tell us however much you’re okay with,” he says with a gentle smile, “you don’t have to go into full detail if you don’t want to.”

Juliet pants heavily when the music stops, crouching down to catch her breath desperately while cursing the horrible cold she’s been dealing with for the past few days.

She just knows everyone noticed how her movements have gotten more sluggish with every time they go over the dance, and the humiliation sears through her body like a raging fire.

Someone—she can’t see who and is too dizzy to even turn her head in that direction to check—comes up from behind to rub her back soothingly as her chest continues to heave from exhaustion.

“Five minutes,” the gruff voice of their dance trainer says, and the group of girls instantly scramble to where their water bottles are lined up neatly against the wall. “Baek Minyoung, not you.”

At the sound of her name, Juliet looks up to see the man crooking a finger, motioning for her to walk over to where he is in a secluded corner of the practice room. Shakily, she stands up as the other girls murmur quiet encouragements, though they quickly leave her side from the glare the man sends towards them.

Juliet knows that no amount of mental preparation is enough when it comes to this particular trainer, and it makes her heart sink deeper and deeper with every step she takes towards him.

Her head is bowed when he starts speaking, not daring to look into his flaring eyes. “What’s wrong with you?” the man wastes no time in asking accusingly. “Did you think I wouldn’t notice how terrible your dancing has gotten these few days? Do you think slackers have a place here? You looked like a dying slug out there.”

“No, Sir. I’m sorry. I’m not trying to slack off, I have a cold, which is why—”

“I’m not interested in hearing your excuses,” he cuts her off icily. “Do you know what idols do when they get sick? They keep pushing. And that’s the complete opposite of what you’re doing.”

“I understand. I’m really sorry. I will do better,” Juliet replies softly, voice barely above a whisper, hoping that he’ll let her off easy.

But today is not her lucky day. The sound of a dry chuckle sends chills down her spine.

“Do you want to know something?” She doesn’t. In fact, she dreads knowing. But something tells her she doesn’t have the luxury of choosing, so she continues to keep her head down and tries to zero in on her shoes to hold back her tears.

She can feel the weight of everyone’s stares on her back, and she wants nothing more than to disappear into thin air.

“There were discussions about adding you to Red Velvet along with Yeri. A few people thought you were too young, others saw potential in you,” the trainer sneers. “Personally, I don’t see any of that, and I’m glad that they ultimately did not debut you, because all I see is an ungrateful, lazy brat.”

Juliet bites down harder on the inside of her cheeks to keep the tears at bay, and it doesn’t take long for her to taste iron.

“You better go back there and get your crap sorted out. Because if I see you not being up to par with the others again, I will not hesitate to go to the higher-ups with this, then you can kiss your future in this industry goodbye. Am I clear?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Look at me when you answer.”

Juliet swears she’s never seen so much hatred and disdain in someone’s eyes until the moment their eyes meet. And it takes everything in her not to burst into tears as she repeats her response in a trembling voice.

The man scoffs, dismissing her with a wave of his hand as though batting away an insect before clapping his hands together to gain the others’ attention.

“Break’s over! Let’s hope some of you actually know what you’re doing this time,” he says scornfully, blissfully ignorant of the fact that every word he said feels like another stab to her heart.

When Juliet looks up at her reflection in the mirror, she barely recognised herself from how hollow and empty her gaze looks, a far cry from the girl who started her journey as a trainee with starry eyes and a fiery passion.

What had she become? is the last thought that comes to mind before the music starts again, and she can only hope that she can make it through the rest of the session without making a mistake or collapsing.

“So... that’s basically what happened,” Juliet chokes out, leaning her head back as she blinks back tears. To be honest, she had to give herself credit for getting through that story without crying, knowing that that incident in particular instilled a new, and much more profound, sense of fear and self-doubt within her. “You can now probably see why I don’t want to meet with him.”

San comes to sit on the armrest of the couch so he can wrap his arms around the girl. “I’m so sorry that happened, but I’m glad you’re not in that situation anymore.”

“Yeah, me too,” Juliet chuckles bitterly, still not meeting any of the boys’ eyes by looking down at her hands. “I don’t think I’ve been the same since then. I mean, not that it’s completely his fault because there were so many contributing factors, but... I’ve never looked at myself so negatively until that day... it suddenly felt like I was the only person who couldn’t see how utterly worthless I was... I don’t know.”

“But what did he text you?” Despite the anger he feels for this man for hurting her in such a way, Seonghwa still manages to stay levelheaded.

Juliet takes her phone out to reread the message. “He said he was watching M Countdown a few days ago and recognised me when we got our first win. He congratulated me and apologised for everything he said to me when I was at SM. Then he asked me if I wanted to meet with him for lunch.”

“But how did he get your number?” Yeosang wonders out loud, frowning deeply. “That’s kinda creepy.”

The girl shrugs. “Who knows? I don’t know what he’s up to now, but he likely still has contacts in the industry and asked around for my number.”

Wooyoung scoffs. “The fact that he only reached out now shows he’s probably not that apologetic, since he’s the one who implied he remembers everything he’s said to you. If he really felt guilty, he would’ve made use of those contacts of his to reach out to you to apologise a lot earlier.”

“That’s what I thought,” Juliet agrees. “The fact that he texted me right after our first win doesn’t seem like a coincidence.”

Mingi huffs. “Maybe just tell him to get lost or something. He’s not worth the time.”

“If she isn’t an idol, she can cuss him out all she wants. But if like you said,” Hongjoong muses thoughtfully, turning back to Juliet, “and he’s either still in the industry or has contacts, then you can’t be too rude to him in case he tries to use it against you to paint you as some villain. You know how some people are.”

The others nod defeatedly. He has a point.

“Then... what do we do? We can’t let her go meet with him,” San says, his arms subconsciously holding Juliet a little tighter protectively.

“Of course not,” the leader assures, “I think the best course of action is to thank him for congratulating you, accept his apology—even if you don’t really want to, it can just be for show—and politely decline his invitation because your schedule is full.”

Juliet hesitates. “But what if he says that I’m lying to get out of it?”

“I mean, it’s not really a lie,” Yunho points out. “Our tour is coming up soon and we’re gonna be busy practising for it, so it really is the truth that you don’t have the time to see him. Plus, you don’t owe him anything, who cares if he thinks you’re lying or not?”

Juliet nods slowly, fingers hovering over the keyboard as she tries to think of a response, but her mind is so overwhelmed from the sudden message and the memories that nothing comes up.

“Do you want me to help you type it?” Seonghwa asks tenderly after a while of watching her struggle to formulate anything.

“Yes, please,” Juliet says immediately, visibly relieved as she pushes her phone into Seonghwa’s hand. The oldest member cocks his head to the side while he thinks before typing something down.

A few moments later, he hands her back her phone. “Here. If you’re okay with this, then you can send it to him.”

The other boys crowd around Juliet so they can all read the message Seonghwa typed out. When done, she looks up at Hongjoong for confirmation.

“It’s good, I think,” he says approvingly. “It’s short and concise, polite but not too friendly or curt so there’s no way it can be taken out of context in case it somehow gets leaked.”

Juliet nods, pressing on the “send” button with bated breath. The moment she sends the message, she feels as though a huge weight has been lifted off her, having spent the whole time during dinner silently stressing over how she should respond to the point where she could barely get down her food.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” she says, leaping off the sofa to throw her arms around Seonghwa’s neck. “I wouldn’t know what to do if it wasn’t for you guys. I actually contemplated pretending he had the wrong number or even meeting with him once so he’d leave me alone after that,” she admits, “but I’m glad you stepped in before I did either of those things.”

“And I’m glad you told us about this so we could work through it together,” Seonghwa smiles, stroking the girl’s head. “You don’t have to struggle with these things alone.”

“Now that we took care of that jerk, I think we should order chicken to celebrate!”

Seonghwa looks at the younger boy in disbelief. “Yeosang, we literally just had dinner!”

Juliet laughs. “It’s okay, there’s always room for chicken! Besides, I’m paying this time as a thank you!”

“In that case, who am I to complain?”

a/n: that incident was a pretty huge turning point for juliet in terms of her mental health. she already doesn’t feel confident in herself as most trainees are, but to hear from someone directly that she didn’t get to debut because she was apparently all those horrible things made a lasting impact on her, and since then she’s felt even more horrible about herself :( but she’s gotten a lot better at managing those feelings now and of course she has the support of the boys!!

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ajbwasntwriting · 3 years

Text

To Serve and Protect (Bucky Barnes x Police!Fem!Reader)

the twd obsession has been interrupted since I’ve started watch TFATWS and have binged bucky fics like I was 15.

Summery: - Reader is an accomplished New York officer but an old case comes back in the shape of a super soldier in need of aid.

Warnings: - Light Spoilers for TFATWS, Cursing, mentions of Human Trafficking, flirty Bucky(kind of I tried)

You had just received your second medal of honor before the blip had occurred. When you came back, you were nearly arrested for breaking into what you had known as your apartment. Luckily, the situation was under control quickly. You had family just outside the city who were willing to support you until you got back on your feet but it still felt like a kick in the gut that your home was gone and you now had to learn a bunch of new skills to do with being a cop. Most of your friends had either died during the five years or had to move out of New York, and those who remained had moved on and didn’t seem to have time for you in their lives.

At least a few of your favourite places had stayed open, including what you thought was the best pizza joint in the state. You got dinner here most nights because it hadn’t changed. The tables still wobbled, the neon sign still buzzed from overuse, and Louis the owner still kept a couple slices of your favorite pie in the back for you.

“Please tell me the back booth is free” you sighed, taking the food from Louis.

“Long day, Detective?” Louis replied.

“New partner thinks I’m an idiot.” You mumble, taking a bite from the pie and burning your tongue.

“It’s clear,” Louis said sympathetically, nodding to the far side of the restaurant.

You slid into the small booth tucked out of the way, tucking into your pizza and soda. After your first slice you noticed a carving on the table. It was your initials plus A.S. equals epic. You smiled as you remembered your previous partner Aarush Sharma. You two had been friends since you joined the force and had come to this booth almost every break hour to fill up on pizza and terrible coffee.

“Detective L/N.” A gruff voice spoke to you. Judging by the shadow he casted over you, he was a big man.

“Look if your here to buy me off or intimidate me,” you snapped, “then you can fu-” you stopped short when you looked up. You recognised the man as James Buchanen Barnes instantly. “Oh,” you sighed with relief.

“You know me?” he asked you.

“Followed the Zemo case.” you explained. He visibly tensed at the mention of Zemo. You held up your hand to calm him. “I know you’ve been pardoned.” You suddenly remembered how your conversation with the Winter Soldier had begun “wait, how do you know me?”

“I need your help,” He spoke low, just so the two of you could hear. He slid opposite you in the booth, leaning forward on the table. “Two-thousand-fifteen, August seventh you filed a report on a human trafficking ring operating out of staten island.” You began eating your second slice of pizza as he talked. “You arrested the main perpetrators, with the exception of Donnie Morris and Frank Abara. You opened an investigation on them but it went cold two months later.” You nodded along to the story. “That’s because-”

“They’re Hydra? Real names Robert Bern and Josh Smith? And the trafficking was for human experimentation?” you interrupted him. He stared at you, just about concealing his surprise. “I was a good cop.” you finished off your pizza, wiping your mouth and looking away in shame. “Was.”

“Why’d you stop?” he asked.

“They threatened me.” You patted the flour off your hands and picked up your soda. “And when that didn’t work, they told my friends to stop me else their family would be hurt, so.” you slurped on your soda and stared back at him.

His piercing blue eyes were reading you like a book, pulling apart your disgust at never catching them, and trying to figure out how to use it to his advantage. He had to admit it was impressive that a normal police officer was able to get farther than he was, but you were still a normal person.

“I need to find them,” he spoke up.

“Why?” you cocked your eyebrow, soda straw still in your mouth. You had been studying his face to find any tell of malintent but the only conclusion you were drawing was that he was handsome as hell, and really good at hiding his tells.

“You don’t need to know.” he retorted. You hummed with discontent.

“See, Mr. Barnes. My job is to protect and serve. Sadly, that includes assholes.” You put down the now empty soda cup and leaned forward to match his position. “And you’ve said enough for me to arrest you under suspicion of planning to commit a crime against said assholes.” His glare hardened and his jaw tightened as he stared you down. “So please answer the question, ideally in a non-incriminating way.”

He looked and huffed, sliding back a little before fixing you with his stare again, but it wasn’t long until he was looking from his hands to the window, seemingly in defeat. “Their boss is dangerous. And I’m the one that made it so.” He forced a bitter smile finally looking back at you. “I’m trying to right as many wrongs as I can but I can’t find this guy but you.” he punctuated by pointing at you with his joined hands. You caught a glint of something metal up his sleeve that you suspect was his arm. “You came very, very close. Apparently, Closer than I thought you did.”

You mulled it over in your head for a moment before reaching into your breast pocket and pulling out your notepad. “Look, I don’t know what to tell you, Mr. Barnes” You looked over the restaurant between bouts of writing, talking all the while in case people were listening. “The case is closed and the records are public so everything you know is everything I know.” You quietly ripped off the piece of paper and pocketed the notebook, picking up your trash to disguise it. He took the hint and hid the paper by putting his hands down and sliding back in the booth, seemingly in defeat. “Good night, Mr. Barnes.” you said, and walked away, depositing your trash on your way out.

Bucky sat their a moment to give you a head start before stepping out himself, piece of paper in hand. As he walked home he opened the paper.

Tomorrow Seneca Village 23:35

Bucky stood in front of the plaque, mind too busy working through every horrible thing that could happen from this little stunt. He was about to run when he heard your voice. “Hey there.”

You walked over and stood next to him, stoically in your repose. You were wearing a pair of jeans and heeled boots with a fashionable jacket and a suitcase in hand. “I don't know which of us is stupider right now.”

“You could have picked a better meeting spot.” Bucky retorted, shifting uncomfortably.

“It’s horrifying,” you commented, putting the case down, Reading over the plaque. “Over two hundred lives ruined by a couple of assholes who wanted a park. Reminds me of another couple of assholes.”

“Yeah?” Bucky replied. You stood there a moment longer, thinking if you could still go back. You bit your tongue and decided having faith was the better bet.

“Burn it when you’re done.” you shot back and walked past him.

Bucky noticed the case just outside his line of vision. He picked it up and walked away from the plaque, trying to remain as inconspicuous as possible despite the case not really matching his attire.

You didn’t hear anything for a couple weeks after the impromptu meeting, having handed over every piece of evidence that had been sitting in your self storage since 2015. Each minute was spent biting your nails with stress, hoping your actions didn’t come back to bite you in the ass. Then the news came on, publicizing that Robert Bern and Josh Smith had been arrested ‘after it was discovered they were connected to a human trafficking ring in New Jersey and a former operation in Staten Island.’

“Looks like somebody did your job for you.”

“Shut up, Louis.” you quip back at him, nursing a terrible cup of coffee. The restaurant was near empty aside from yourself, Louis, a trio of loud drunk women in the corner and a homeless man who had scraped cents together to buy a slice of pizza. The TV above the kitchen archway providing most of the ambiance.

“What’s got you in a mood?” he asked as he cleaned.

“Ever been ditched on a blind date? I get all dolled up,” you opened your coat to show a figure hugging dress with a low neckline, coupled with an elegant necklace. “And the asshole texts me when I’m already at the lounge saying he needs a fucking rain check.”

“Okay, well he’s an ass-”

“Right!” you exclaim.

“But you need to stop scowling before you scare off my customers.” Louis playfully chided.

“Oh, cause there’s so many of them.” you waved a hand out at the restaurant to emphasize your point. Still you leaned over your coffee to stew in your own misery. You couldn’t hear the door open over the women’s third rendition of ‘I’m every woman’ but you noticed someone slide onto the bar stool next to you. You turned your head to see Bucky looking back.

“Have I seen you here before?” Bucky said playfully.

You chuckled involuntarily and sat up on your stool. “You must be mistaking me with someone else.”

He swiveled on the stool to face you fully, leaning on the counter comfortably. “You sure?” he seemed to be playing with you, a sly smirk on his face. “Could’ve sworn I met this detective lady here who looked a lot like you.”

“Was she pretty?” You pressed, a smile now sneaking it’s way onto your face without you knowing.

Bucky looked in your eyes with a soft sincerity. “Incredibly,”

You laughed nervously as you looked away and into the pool of your coffee. “Was that before or after she helped you with your job.” You deflected.

“About that,” Bucky leaned onto the counter. He was still quiet good at hiding his tells but you got the impression he was nervous by the pause. “You gave me more than I needed so I was able to do better than I planned. I know how hard it can be to trust someone. I'm not sure how to thank you for that.”

“Take her on a date!” Louis yelled from the kitchen, looking at you two through the serving window. “She’s already all ‘dolled up’” Louis mocked you.

“Keep cleaning!” you shot back. “Ignore him. He’s just dripping with sympathy since I got ditched.”

“I mean,” Bucky started, you looked over and saw him staring at his hands with nerves as his thumbs tapped against each other. “I just wouldn’t know where to take you.” he admitted under his breath.

A question instantly plagued your mind and it demanded to be asked. “Have you not...since nineteen-fifty?”

Bucky nodded with pursed lips. “You can laugh.”

You smiled at the super soldier. “Right,” you announced, pushing yourself off the stool. “Come on, I know a great dive three down.”

“A dive?” Bucky asked in disbelief, but he was still smiling.

“Yep. Where they don’t give a shit who you are as long as you're buying.” You fixed your jacket with new found enthusiasm. “You are buying, right?”

“For a doll like you,” He stood up from the stool. “I’ll buy the bar.” he held the door as you both left the little pizzeria

“Oh honey, there’s nothing like me.” you said playfully as you stepped out the door.

“Then I must be the luckiest man in the world,” he flirted, offering you his arm. You slide your hand in, curling your wrist around his bicep and off you both went.

#bucky barnes #james bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #tfatws #tftws #reader x bucky #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #james barnes #reader x bucky barnes #fem!reader #fem!reader x bucky barnes #bucky barnes x fem!reader #remale reader #reader insert #mcu reader insert #mcu bucky #mcu bucky barnes

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ti-bae-rius · 3 years

Text

Following on from @imherongraystairstrash’s amazing Thomas and Kit fic (which is here: https://imherongraystairstrash.tumblr.com/post/654901507028828161/i-know-you-write-about-relationships-in-tlh-and) here’s my addition to this lil fanfic universe, in which Thomas and Christopher discuss love and what love means.

Some period-specific discussion around sexual and romantic orientation but pretty darn positive!

Christopher dropped his carpet bag down on the bed in the room opposite Thomas’s with a sigh.

“Mam went to visit Uncle Henry, and he said that we should be able to go back to the house tomorrow by tea time. Mam and Dad have taken Alex to Aunt Tessa and Uncle Will’s. I haven’t a clue where Anna went. Mam asked if she’d somewhere to go and Anna said ‘I’ll find someone’ and Mam said ‘you mean somewhere?’ and Anna said ‘If you like’ and that caused an almighty row, so I’ve come here.”

Thomas glanced up from where he’d been filling the basin for Christopher, and grinned at him in the looking glass hanging above it.

“What a palaver.”

“Not half. And then Mam made me get rid of all the clothes I was wearing when the experiment went awry, so that’s another shirt gone to buggery. Anna’s inherited wardrobe is waning by the second.”

“I can’t imagine Anna would be seen dead in your old clobber, Kit.”

“Not anymore, but she used nab it all. I’m sure she thought I didn’t notice, but I did.”

“You never asked her about it?” Thomas asked. A knock at the door made him pause before he got an answer, accepting the plate offered by one of the maids. He handed Christopher the tea cake, pooling with melting butter, and stretched out on the rug as his cousin ate.

“Well none of it mattered a jot to me. They were just clothes. They meant something to Anna.” He set down his tea cake in indignation. “Oh, and I was pretending to sleep in the carriage here, but I heard Mam and Dad talking about Anna. Apparently the Clave are kicking up a fuss again about her, saying she could be muddling foolish shadowhunter girls. But Anna in spats and a waistcoat is still Anna. I hardly think a pair of trousers is going to baffle ladies out of their heads, and if they think girls are so easily duped, then it’s not the girls who are the foolish ones.”

Christopher understood Anna so well, Thomas thought, watching as - now serene after his outburst - Christopher happily tucked into his tea cake, fingers slick with runny butter. He understood Anna, so he’d understand Thomas. At least, Thomas thought, he hoped that was the case.

“I’ve something I want to tell you,” Thomas said, and his voice trembled a little with the nerves as he said it. He picked up his teacup but the saucer clattered against the base as his hands shook.

“Mind, you’ll drop that,” Christopher said, and Thomas put the cup back down. “Well whatever it is, it sounds frightfully serious.”

“It’s not all that serious,” Thomas insisted. “I don’t suppose it is anyway. Unless you find it serious. You might do.” He forced a breath between clenched teeth and reminded himself why he wanted to tell Kit. Because he’d understand. Because he was Anna’s brother. Because he was Thomas’s best friend.

“I...don’t fancy women. I fancy...other boys. You’re the first person I’ve told.”

Christopher’s violet eyes widened behind his spectacles, brows shooting up towards his hairline.

“Are you surprised?” Thomas hazarded nervously.

“Hugely.”

“You didn’t guess then?”

“About you...I didn’t give it a fig. I mean, I’m surprised you told me first. No one ever tells me anything first.”

“Well, you’re my best friend.”

If possible, Christopher’s eyes widened further, huge saucer-like circles of shock.

“I’m your best friend?”

Thomas almost laughed. “Of course you are. ‘Course, Kit. Besides, you can’t possibly be more surprised by that than...than the other part.”

“Well that is interesting news,” Christopher nodded. “Certainly interesting. Lots of recent scientific papers have been published on the subject. I tried to show Anna but she asked if they had any advice for seducing women, and then when I said it wasn’t a how-to guide she said it sounded dull.”

“Well I’m not to be experimented on,” Thomas said, and Christopher glanced across, wounded.

“Of course not. I didn’t mean...It’s just how I explain things I...” He patted Thomas’s shoulder helplessly. “It’s all alright with me, old boy. Any of it. Because I’m your...best friend.” He said these last two words with such earnest, such pleasure, that it set Thomas’s heart alight.

“You won’t tell the rest of the lads, will you?” he asked nervously and Christopher shook his head so firmly his spectacles shifted down his nose.

“Of course I shan’t,” he said, pushing them back up with a finger. “I’ll probably forget by supper tomorrow.”

They both knew that wasn’t true, but Thomas ruffled Kit’s hair in thanks anyway, muttering some gruff comment about that being about right. Nevertheless, he could see Christopher grinning.

“Thomas? Are you up?”

Setting down his book, Thomas padded over and opened his bedroom door, admitting a Christopher who was squinting without his spectacles. Thomas pulled him into the room and closed the door behind them. The candle he was reading by was starting to burn low, so he activated his witchlight lantern and set it on the bedside table. Christopher peered at the book and then back at Thomas.

“Couldn’t you sleep either?”

“You look like a mole when you don’t have your eyeglasses on,” Thomas replied instead, evading the question. His heart still felt as if it was leaping out of his chest, like he’d been infected with demon poison. He felt lighter and heavier all at once. His secret didn’t feel quite so suffocating now he’d told Kit, but speaking it had made it somehow more real. There was no hiding from it now.

“I had a question for you,” Christopher went on, tucking his knees up into his nightgown. Thomas, in a pair of striped pyjamas his mother had bought him, didn’t know how his cousin didn’t freeze to death.

“Which was?” Thomas prompted.

“When did you know that you liked other lads, not girls?”

Thomas tried to swallow the shock of the question. When did he know? How did he know? Didn’t everyone just somehow know? “I suppose...I’ve always felt it. But it became impossible to ignore when I was about 11 or so.”

Christopher seemed to heave a sigh of relief, though Thomas was half-inclined to believe he’d imagined it. Was his cousin wondering whether he was out of the woods to fall victim to Thomas’s own proclivities?

“I suppose it’s the same as you knowing you fancied girls.”

Christopher didn’t say anything for a while, and Thomas presumed that was all, when Christopher suddenly spoke again into the silence, voice dropped to a hush.

“Well, you see, that’s sort of it. I’m not sure I do know that. I don’t really know that I’m fond of...anyone in that way, girls or boys.” Though the light was low, Thomas could sense Christopher wrinkling his nose the way he did when he was puzzled. “I suppose that makes me awfully peculiar,” he said quietly.

“Not peculiar, at least not any more so than me,” Thomas told him. “Besides, you’re only 14. Perhaps you’re just a late bloomer. You’re ever so studious, you’re probably just too busy for courting. You have plenty of time to court girls.”

“I just...” Christopher cut himself off with a sigh. “I’m fond of lots of people. I’m fond of you, and Jamie and Matthew. I’m fond of my family - even Alex and his relentless grizzling. I’m fond of lots of people. But...I don’t think I can really imagine wanting to kiss anyone - and I definitely can’t imagine wanting to do anything in a marriage bed.”

“Well,” Thomas began, not really sure where his answer was going to lead him. “Like I say, you have plenty of time. But, even if you didn’t ever want something like that, you’d still be Christopher. It wouldn’t change anything for us, all of us who know you.”

“You don’t think that would be a tremendously odd life? Never being in love?”

“I’m not sure I’m the one to comment on what’s odd or not, especially not in matters of love,” Thomas pointed out, smiling. “But...I don’t see why it should be. Like you said, you’re fond of so many people, and they’re all so fond of you. It wouldn’t be as if your life was without love. By the angel, you’d be lucky to even escape it for a day with so much family around you who dote on you. Just because you wouldn’t want to take a wife...that shouldn’t mean you would have a life without love. Not when we all love you so.”

“And even if you were in love with some lad, we’d still be friends, wouldn’t we?”

“‘Course we would, Kit. You’ve seen what Aunt Tessa and my mother are like; Shadowhunters stay friends for life, especially when they’re family. We’ll always be best friends.”

“Well then, I don’t suppose the rest of it matters,” Christopher said, and Thomas’s heart wriggled free of the iron grip of anxiety, just a little, because Kit still loved him. And, Thomas agreed, the rest of it didn’t matter.

#thomas lightwood #christopher lightwood #tlh #the last hours #tsc #the shadowhunter chronicles #anna lightwood #fanfic #fanfiction

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yespleasetommyshelby · 3 years

Text

Love in the 21st - Jay Halstead Fic

This is a fic that I had written over on Wattpad, it basically follows the show from season 1 but with my own spin on things... Hopefully you'll enjoy ☺️

Taking a deep breath I looked up at the building standing in front of me, District 21, the most infamous police station in all of Chicago and I was the newest recruit.

Let me introduce myself, my name is Kylie Platt, I'm 27, basic childhood, well, other than my mum died when I was about six after being hit by a drunk driver not knowing my real dad I was left with my step dad and his family, which is where my aunty Trudy comes into it, she's always been my role model, the reason that I became an officer. She's also the reason that I'm stood outside the 21st trying to psyche myself up to enter. I've been an officer for the last 7 years after joining the academy straight out off school and today is my first day at my new unit, intelligence to be precise, I had been working at multiple precincts in New York before coming back to Chicago where I was placed at the 31st but after a series of, lets call them 'unprofessional' arrests I'm being transferred. Aunt Trudy had told me that she was going to pull some strings to get me into her district, although she never mentioned aiming for intelligence, but what the hell, right?

Taking one last deep breath I made my way up the stairs and through the doors immediately spotting Trudy sitting at the main desk talking to a couple of patrolmen, one woman with her brown hair pulled back into a pony tail and a taller, dark skinned man, who I must say looked delicious.

"Hey Trudy." I smiled as I stopped next to the female officer who looked rather exhausted.

"Hey, Kyles, gimme one second." Trudy smiled before switching back to her 'no bullshit' face as I like to call it as she spoke to the others. "You will take the car, and you will like the car, are we clear?" She asked looking between the two.

"You got it Sarge." The guy smiled before turning round and raising his eyebrow at me as if to say 'this is what I've gotta deal with'.

"Kevin Atwater, this is my partner Kim Burgess." He smiled at me as he introduced himself and Kim.

"Hi, Kylie Platt, newest addition to intelligence." I smiled back at them.

"So you're a detective?" Kim asked as she looked me up and down slightly.

"Uh, no, just an officer." I smiled slightly as her face turned slightly offended.

"You two, shift started 10 minutes ago, shoo." Trudy interrupted shooing them away with her hand.

"Wait, Platt as in Platt, Platt." Kevin stopped and turned round looking between me and my aunt with an eyebrow raised.

"No, as in Platter, yes as in Platt now go." Trudy answered sarcastically as she looked at him with her 'I dare you' look. She has a lot of looks, I know.

Raising his hands in defeat Kevin turned and followed Kim out of the precinct, turning round I couldn't help but laugh at the exasperated face of the desk Sergent. "Be thankful you don't have to deal with that all day." She sighed dramatically as she came round from her desk. "Come on, I'll take you up." She said walking up the stairs and buzzing us through the gate.

"Come on Trudy, you love them really." I grinned as she looked down at me like I just told her she should shit in her hands and clap. "Okay, okay, I take it back." I laughed holding my hands up in surrender.

"You're lucky I like you." She muttered sarcastically just as we reached the top of the stairs causing me to laugh a little harder.

"Hey Trudy, this my new one?" A gruff voice caught my attention as an older looking man walked out from what I'm assuming is his office towards the back of the bullpen.

"Ah Voight, this is my niece Kylie Platt and the newest member of your team. Kylie, this is Sergeant Hank Voight, your new boss." She introduced motioning between the two of us.

"Nice to meet you kid." He smiled holding his hand out for me to shake while he scanned over my features briefly, weird, shrugging it off I shook his hand with a 'nice to meet you too'. Just as more footsteps sounded and two other guys and a blonde woman entered intelligence.

"Kylie, this is Jay Halstead, Antonio Dawson and Jules Willhite, guys this is Kylie Platt, the newest member of intelligence and the niece of our very own Trudy Platt." He introduced, Jules shook my hand and the Hispanic guy, Antonio pulled me into a hug, again with a 'nice to meet you'. The younger guy Jay was the one who had caught my attention, he was tall, but not too tall, brown hair and a pair of gorgeous blue eyes, shaking his hand all he said was 'hi' which I returned before Voight's voice caught my attention once more.

"I'll introduce you to Al and Erin when they get here." He said patting my shoulder.

"I'm right here." Another voice sounded as a guy wearing a hat and a scruffy-ish beard wheeled himself round a board on his chair. "Alvin Olinsky, nice to meet ya kid." He smiled shaking my hand.

"Nice to meet you too, do you always hide in the shadows or only when someone new is starting?" I asked with a giggle making the other detectives laugh.

"Trust me, you'll get used to it." Jay laughed taking a seat at his desk.

"Right, I'll leave you in these guys safe hands, be good Kyles." Trudy called as she turned to make her way down the stairs, before she stopped and turned back round. "And I swear, if anything happens to her under your watch, just know that I've got a few hiding places, I can easily fit a body." She threatened pointing her finger at the four men in the room.

"Trudy, she'll be fine, go." Hank reassured her as he patted my shoulder. With one last warning look she was gone.

"I got a potential lead I'm gunna go check out, fill Platt here in on what's going down, I'll be back in a bit." Voight instructed giving me another pat on the shoulder before he left.

"Alright, this is where we'll start." Al said as he wheeled his chair over to an empty desk opposite where Jay was sat. "This is you." He motioned. Taking a seat next to him I flipped through the file quick seeing that it's a case about a Colombian drug lord.

—————

Voight had been gone for about an hour and In that time I had gotten up to date on the current case file and had met Erin Lindsey, who was glad to have another woman on the team seeing as before it was just her and Jules. We were just grabbing a cup of coffee as Voight charged back into the bullpen.

"This guy, known as Rev, CI says that he's a dealer, so he's where we start." Voight said as he put a picture up on the board. "Halstead, Platt you're up, let's see what you got kid." He said as he nodded at me.

"Sure you're up for this?" Jay asked as he knocked on the door of our suspects apartment.

"I've got this, trust me." I smiled at him as I leant into his side so we looked more like a couple. Voight's idea was for me and Jay to pretend to be a drug addict couple looking to score some heroin.

The door suddenly opens, but only a crack, and a man sticks his head round the door, only it's not the man we're looking for. "What?" He asked uninterested as he checks behind him quickly.

"Uh, hey man, where's Rev?" Jay asked scratching his neck, playing the role.

"He ain't here, what do you want?" The guy asked as he once again checked behind him.

"Baby, you said we could get a hit." I whined pathetically looking up at Jay with desperate eyes.

"I know baby, I will." He said looking down at me before back at the guy. "I come here all the time man, I just need one hit for my girl, come on man." Even though it was fake, hearing him say 'my girl' almost made me blush, it's been a couple hours and I've already developed a crush on this guy, great.

As Jay was talking to the guy I noticed what looked like blood on the bottom of his trousers, squeezing Jay's arm slightly I got his attention.

"Come on, we'll try my guy baby." I sighed pulling on his arm slightly.

"One sec bab-" he started before I cut him off. "No, it's fine, come on." I said slightly sterner so that he knew I wasn't just giving up.

"Alright, alright." He said confused before we both walked away and over the rest of the team who were waiting round the corner.

"What happened Platt?" Voight asked arms crossed as we reached them.

"The guy had blood on the bottom of his trousers, and he wasn't the guy we were looking for." I told him as I looked back over my shoulder. "Somethings not right." I said looking back at Voight.

"Alright." He said nodding. "Let's move in."

#jay Halstead imagine #jay Halstead imagines #chicago pd fic #one chicago pd imagine #jay Halstead fic #love in the 21st One #chicago pd imagine #chicago pd imagines #Love in the 21st

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onlyangelcas · 3 years

Text

rosé flowing with your chosen family

my addition to @spnwomenweek ☼ day 2: family | read on ao3

“Claire,” Kaia says softly, placing her hand on Claire’s shoulder. “This is your family, what are you so worried about?”

Claire sighs, unsure of what exactly is so nerve wracking about walking into a house filled with her loved ones. Her back is resting against the side of her beat up station wagon, one sneaker kicking uselessly at the gravel under her feet and Kaia is looking at her with those concerned eyes that make her stomach knot up with guilt.

In front of her, past the somewhat wild front lawn, is Sam and Eileen’s new home, where their family is gathered for a last minute housewarming party. Sam and Eileen had put in an offer a few days after their wedding back in March, eager to get out of the dingy bunker and begin their life as a married couple. Claire was happy for them, Sam deserved a life of domesticity, just as Cas and Dean did.

It was weird, those first few weeks after the Winchsesters had defeated Chuck, God, whatever. Claire was devastated by the news of Cas being taken by the Empty, she hardly moved from her bed in the days following. Left confused, broken, and grieving an angel who was like her father in more ways than just his appearance. Kaia was supportive, of course, content to cuddle up next to her and run a soothing hand through her hair or convince her to eat a real meal at least once a day.

Before she even had the chance to fully process the loss of Cas, Jack and Dean had rescued him from the Empty. She remembered Jody’s voice calling out to her, she had slid from her bed and padded toward the front door. Claire was shocked to see Cas standing there, normal trench coat and suit traded in for a sweater and jeans, his hand tightly holding Dean’s. The two men had looked at her with concern, probably taking in her wrinkled pajamas, two-day-old bun, and the dark circles under her eyes. She had passed on asking the millions of questions that had flooded her mind in favor of wrapping herself tightly around Cas.

Claire had never been one to show her emotions so viscerally, but in that moment she couldn’t help the tears that quickly rolled down her cheeks. The joy of seeing Cas, when she thought he was gone for good, standing in her living room full of life and having apparently worked out whatever feelings he had for Dean, was overwhelming. Cas held her tightly while Dean ran a soothing hand across her back, and she wept openly for the first time since the Bad Place.

After that, things had returned to normal. Not normal for Claire, because all she had really known for the last few years was hunting, but the kind of normal where she didn’t have to kill monsters or worry that Sam and Dean were off getting themselves in trouble. There weren’t any monsters to hunt anymore, which left her feeling empty and useless for months. Kaia had pulled her out of that, like Kaia always did, and they decided to travel across the country and see the places they had never been able to enjoy before. It was freeing, to be on the open road, enjoying just being alive.

Claire and Kaia often passed through Kansas to visit Cas, Dean, and Jack at their house on the lake or to swing by the bunker to see Sam and Eileen. They never missed a birthday, wedding, or big event. Which is how they found themselves back in Kansas, Jody had called to let them know everyone was getting together for a housewarming party for Sam and Eileen. Her and Kaia had been in Memphis, enjoying barbecue and Blues, so the drive wasn’t too much of a hassle.

“Earth to blondie,” Kaia says, snapping Claire back to the present. “Are we going inside anytime soon? I’m starving, babe.”

Claire clears her throat, “Yeah, sorry. Lost in my head.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

She looks into Kaia’s eyes, the usual soft brown painted with worry, and smiles in hopes it will ease her girlfriend’s concern, “No, I’m good, just overthinking. Let’s go eat.”

Kaia gives her a tentative smile, wrapping her hand around Claire’s and pulling her in for a chaste kiss.

They approach the front door, Claire raises her hand to knock but before her knuckles make contact the door swings open, revealing Sam with a grin spread across his face. He quickly wraps them both up in a hug and pulls them inside the loud and lively house. Claire and Kaia congratulate him on the house before breaking away to greet Jody, Donna, Alex, and Patience.

After hugs are exchanged and road trip updates are given, Claire slips away to the kitchen for a drink and Kaia heads toward Cas and Eileen who are clearly gossiping in ASL in the far corner of the living room.

Claire yanks open the fridge and helps herself to a beer, twisting off the cap and taking a long drink before propping herself against the counter.

“Hello Claire,” Jack says happily from where he’s sitting at the kitchen island, Claire hadn’t even noticed him when she first came in.

“Jack, jeeze, you scared me.”

“My apologies, I didn’t realize you hadn’t seen me.” Jack responds, his hands wrapped around a can of root beer.

“Yeah, I guess I was a little lost in thought.” She says, turning her head toward the door where the sound of Dean’s laughter is filtering through.

There’s a pause then, as Claire contemplates how she ended up here, with this ragtag group of former hunters, angels, and a witch that she calls family. It’s weird, she had always expected her dad to show back up one day and make their family whole again, back when she was young and naive. It’s even weirder, she thinks, that this band of misfits has become a better image of family than she could ever imagine to have with her mother and father. Claire had come to think of herself as a combination of Novak-Winchester-Mills-Hanscum for quite some time now, content to be part of this chosen family.

She still missed her mom and dad, from time to time, wondered what life would have been like if they had stayed with her. Claire never let herself spend too long on that path, knowing that if things had been different she would have never known Jody or Alex, she would never have known Cas, or Sam and Dean, she never would have fallen in love with Kaia. She has a family now; she found a mother in Jody and Donna, Castiel and Dean became her kind-of dads, Sam and Eileen the closest thing she has to an uncle and aunt, Alex and Patience are her sisters, Jack her brother. It’s weird and mismatched, but it’s hers and she wouldn’t trade it for the world.

“Claire,” Jack says, breaking her out of her thoughts. “You seem troubled.”

Claire flashes him a watery smile, suddenly overcome with affection for her perfectly messed up family, “Actually the opposite.”

Jack smiles back at her, a gap-toothed goofy grin, “Oh, I thought you were upset.”

She pushes herself away from the counter, abandoning her beer on the stone surface, and makes her way over to Jack. “Can I tell you something?”

“Of course, Claire, anything.” Jack says, his head tilting up slightly to lock eyes with Claire, who is standing close enough that she’s marginally taller than Jack sitting down.

Claire pulls Jack into a hug, wrapping her arms so tightly around him that her ribs ache, “I love you.”

Jack slowly loops his arms around Claire, resting his cheek against her shoulder, “I love you, too.”

She lets out a wet laugh, giving Jack one final squeeze before pulling away.

“Well,” A gruff voice says from the doorway. “Isn’t that just a sight for sore eyes.”

Claire whips her head around to find Dean lounging against the doorframe, his face soft with a bit of fondness in his eyes.

“Hello Dean,” Jack says, his face still twisted up in a goofy grin.

Dean stalks forward into the kitchen, quickly wrapping the two up in a warm embrace and pressing a kiss to the top of their heads. He pulls away just as quickly as he pulled them in, locking eyes with Claire and giving her a look that conveys all the words he can’t say out loud.

“Jack helped me get a bunch of Sammy’s baby pictures scanned onto a CD and I’m gonna put ‘em up on the TV for everyone, you don't wanna miss it.” Dean says, giving her a gentle pat on the back.

She laughs, “Sounds mortifying, I can’t wait to see Sam’s face.”

“C’mon,” He says, jerking his head toward the living room before turning and heading out the door.

Claire watches him and Jack disappear into the other room, smiling to herself as she snatches up her beer and heads into the chaos. Cas, Kaia, and Eileen are still deep in conversation. Jody and Donna are whispering quietly to each other on the other side of the room. Rowena, Patience, and Alex are pressed together on the couch, a martini glass dangling from Rowena’s hand as she gestures wildly, obviously recounting an insane tale as the other women listen with rapt attention.

She slides in next to Sam, who is leaning against the stairway railing, eyeing Jack and Dean with suspicion as they fiddle with the disc player next to the TV.

“This is a great house, Sammy.”

Sam looks down at her, smiling slightly, “It’s not bad, but it’s the people who really make it home.”

Claire returns his smile, then turns back to the scene in front of her; all her favorite people, the people she loves most in the world, gathered in one room.

Dean always says, family don’t end with blood, something his own stand-in father, Bobby, used to tell him. Claire never met Bobby, but she thinks he might have been onto something.

#spnwomenweek #they are a big family!!!#writing in claire’s pov is new to me so i hope i did her justice #claire novak #spn #supernatural

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the-silentium · 3 years

Text

Murphy day Pt.3

Masterlist - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 4

Pairing: Bad Batch x Reader

Words: 2302 words. I know it’s short! But it needed to end there.

Warnings: None.

A/N: This chapter is not the end like I thought because something went terribly wrong somewhere and I ended up far away from my initial plan. So here it is, the best chapter ever to finish 2020.

Fors is an Original planet. I do not give permission to people to use it for their own fics, the planet, the animals, the Nightmares, the lore or anything related to Fors. Thank you.

You found solace in the fact that the rain wasn't as heavy as what you were used to. Instead of the torrential rain that barely allowed you to see a meter before you, the only handicap you had was the discomfort of your clothes sticking to your skin and to Wrecker's armor. With a smile, you thanked yourself for choosing a dark outfit despite the clear sky that greeted you early in the morning, your initial light blue shirt would have forced you to throw yourself in mud to save what you had left of dignity.

Speaking of dignity, you couldn’t stop chuckling along with Wrecker at the shining star guiding the group. Tech would sometimes turn around to glare at the both of you, but really, there was nothing he could do to save himself at this point.

The dry phosphorescent poo mixed with puke he fell in earlier finally kicked in now that the sun was hidden behind the dark clouds, illuminating his armor like a mighty beacon leading your steps towards salvation. Most of the sticky mixture had washed off his armor by now, getting rid of what he couldn’t remove by himself, leaving the light parts of his armor stained in the phosphorescent color.

“Don’t take it like that Techie! At least the smell is gone!” You laughed along with Wrecker.

At the sound, Shiny fussed, jumping happily on his tiny legs until he bumped into Crosshair who crouched slightly to calm him with a pat on the head. Shiny walked near his favorite sniper, his green horns illuminating proudly his steps like a young star that somehow found its way down onto this nightmare of a planet. Watching the duo from your venture point behind them, you thought about how opposed those two were but strangely enough, seemed to be the most comfortable around each other.

Well, maybe you would be returning home alone after all.

If you made it home that is.

“Are we close?” Hunter stopped walking to fall back at Wrecker’s side.

Squinting your eyes to protect them from the rain, you adjusted your grip around Wrecker as you moved your head forward to get a better view of your position.

“Almost there!” You reported cheerfully, your head falling back in its place on the hard pauldron, your forehead comfortably pressed at the base of the black helmet that protected Wrecker from the rain.

“Enjoying yourself?” The gruff voice reached your ears again, although this time there was something new in his tone. You shrugged it off, passing the fault on the occasional water drop that fell in your ear.

“Can’t say I don’t.” You replied sheepishly, a smile stretching your lips despite your best efforts.

It was nice to be treated like that for the very first time in your life. Not like a damsel in distress, you still wanted to smack him for that, but to be treated like you were important. Like someone cared. It was warming and comforting so you’d take it while it lasted. Plus, it allowed you to recharge your batteries for a bit as well as giving time for the muscles in your legs to relax and stop contracting painfully.

“She likes me Sarge!"

His arms tighten slightly around you as he bumped his brother playfully, your feet hitting armor in the movement.

"It's nothing to be so happy about." You mumbled under your breath, low enough that the rain swallowed your words.

"I don't see why." Hunter walked a bit faster so he had a visual on you, head tilted slightly to the side.

"What?" You asked at the same time Wrecker did, who turned to you, a smile on his lips that you couldn't see under his painted helmet.

A yelped from Tech at the front alerted you that he tripped. Again.

"I don't see why he shouldn't be happy that you like him." He clarified.

Your cheeks suddenly became very hot as your brain finally remembered that his hearing was far above average. To make it worse, Wrecker's visor was now solely fixed on your face and you were sure that he was analyzing the pink covering your cheeks.

Looking around for an escape, your eyes found the perfect getaway in the shape of an endless field of glowing purple flowers in the distance.

"Look! We're here!" You blurted out with too much enthusiasm, unlatching your hands from behind Wrecker's neck and pushing yourself out of his arms so suddenly that he didn't have the time to adjust his grip.

You hurried on your feet despite your aching knees who met the hard ground without warning, your desperation to escape the subject propelling you forward, passing Tech the glorious shining star and into the meadow towards the river where a grey ship was stationed on the opposite bank.

" 'cause 'm far from a catch Sarge." You repeated the words you've heard so many times before, feet entering the cold water to get to the other side as soon as possible. There was no way he could've heard that one. Not over the rain, the current of the river, and a good couple of meters separating you.

"What was that?" You yelped in surprise, Tech's eyes widening in turn following your outburst. He must have run after you.

"Nothing." You breathed, a hand over your heart in an attempt to calm it down.

"We should cross the river in tandem. We'll have less chance to get dragged by the current." He dropped the subject and offered you his hand after getting in the waist high water with you.

"Good idea." You took his warm gloveless hand in yours, lacing your fingers with his for a better grip.

You walked at the same pace, each of you using the other to balance yourself. Your feet slipped once under the strong force of the current, sending your heart into a frantic rhythm until your boots passed the small inch of slippery rocks and found a good grip into a bed of mud. Tech had stopped walking, his grip tightening around your fingers as much as you did around his in your panic.

You nodded to tell him that you were ready to start again and he followed your lead. With small steps you made it to the other side safely, Tech got out of the water first and turned around to offer you a hand. Grateful, you let him pull you out of the mad stream.

"Thanks, Tech." You huffed on your knees, breathing deeply to force your heart to work faster, providing more blood flow through your body to fight against the cold of the water.

You heard three splashes behind you, the remaining boys must have decided to follow Tech's idea and cross the current with each other. With a quick glance, you confirmed that they were indeed following the example, Shiny secured under Wrecker's arm.

"You're welcome." He presented his hand again to help you up.

Just as your hand lifted to his, a movement just behind him caught your attention, a hiss reached your ears, stopping your heart.

Time slowed for a second, Tech's residual glow illuminating two elliptical pupils staring him down with a predatory glint and rows after rows of thin razor sharp teeth and terrifyingly long fangs creeping their way over his head.

You saw Tech's head turning to see what caused the sound, his other hand flying to his holster, but you were faster. Your heart started beating again, pumping blood like never before, your hand shot out to close around Tech's outstretched one and with a sharp pull, you made him dive into you, away from the deadly clasping maws.

"Get up! Get up!" You stressed as the remaining Batchers yelled to know what was wrong.

Ignoring them for the most urgent matter, you pushed him off hurriedly all the while keeping a firm grip on his hand, turned around, and pulled him after you in the opposed direction.

You turned your head to see if the beast was following and sure enough, the draconic head of the Basilisk was gaining ground, its powerful body waving rapidly on the wet grass. Its dark scales made him hard to discern under the clouded sky, although his eyes and his three-forked tail made a stark contrast.

"Don't stop running Tech!" You yelled, praying that he wouldn't trip like he did all the way here.

"Don't worry!"

The ground shook under your feet, both your heads snapping back at the impact. The basilisk disappeared underground, digging a hole with its strong and heavy body, using the thick spikes covering the whole length of its body to dig and move around away from its preys' eyes.

"It went underground!" Tech panicked. "This thing can go underground!"

"We have to get off the ground! Now!" You yelled over the rain.

The ship was now forgotten, too far behind to even hope of getting there in time. You had two options, climbing the Waytree which you were sure Tech couldn't possibly climb in his armor or get up the rock promontory.

The ground rumbled beneath your feet, telltale of the Basilisk getting closer.

"Up there!" You pointed to the top of the inclined rock overlooking the meadow.

At this point, Tech took the lead, running faster than you, pulling you with him in his wake to get to safety. The unusual speed along with the wet grass slipping underneath your boots almost made you trip more than once.

"Tech, are you two okay?" Hunter's voice barely resonated out of the clones flashing wrist armor piece. His voice managed to calm you to some point for some unknown reason. Maybe it was because he saved you from hungry teeth before. "Tech!"

"Fine for now." He answered in a slightly higher tone than usual. "Not for long."

"Hang on." The line cut and you found out that it panicked you more.

The shaking intensified to a point where you thought for the second time that day that you were done. Your heartbeat resonated in your head, the sound of the rain filled your ears, the splatter of the water hitting your skin made you numb and the vibration beneath your feet put you on edge.

With a scream on the verge of your lips, you finally made it to the promontory, Tech pulling behind him until you reached the very end of the rock.

A crash erupted behind you, the Basilisk erupting from under ground where the soft ground let place to something way too hard for it to continue digging.

You saw the brille protecting its eyes retract as its maw opened in a warning hiss, slowly creeping its way towards you. A quick glance behind showed a nothingness that scared you to the bone. Either you jumped into the abyss and broke a lot of bone at your landing four stairs below or you could get chewed and digested by a gigantic snake.

Tech grabbed his blaster, aiming at the approaching beast, the hand still gripping you tightening in fear.

Before he could fire, the Basilisk screeched in pain as a blaster bolt hit him right in the eye. The sudden sound made the both of you jump, Tech's shoulder bumping you enough for you to lose your balance.

"Tech!" You yelped, pulling onto him to regain footing.

The Basilisk continued its ascension of the rock, crawling its way towards its prizes. Blaster bolts rained onto its side, infuriating the creature. Turning around in a hiss, the Basilisk changed its target, choosing to hunt the remaining clones instead. As it roamed away, the forked tail hit the promontory aggressively, the resulting shockwave projecting you right on your stomach to the ground, your top half dangling over the edge, hand still trapped between the engineer's who had lost its footing and fell off your perch.

Luckily, your left foot caught into a fissure, keeping you anchored.

"Don't let go!" He pleaded, panic lacing his voice.

"Never." You gritted your teeth, locking your bones in position.

With a colossal effort, you forced your boot down deeper into the crack while trying to pull Tech back up with your body half over the edge.

Rain traveled down your face, dripping onto Tech's glasses that you now noticed had a flashing red light on their sides. Wet strands blocked your peripheral view, allowing you to concentrate solely on your task of saving your newly acquired friend and forget the other three fighting a gigantic carnivorous snake without any knowledge on its species.

A sudden bright light illuminated Tech's eyes, the raw fear in them screaming at you to not drop him gave you a boost of strength. Ignoring the burning of your muscles, you forced your arms to pull harder, to push your limit and pull him up.

Your grip on him was slipping, his wet deadweight too much for your small fingers. Surely, if you both survived this, your fingers would be sore and bruised.

Slowly, inch by inch, you managed to pull him back on the rock, your arms shaking under the effort and groans falling from your lips. Tech managed to grip onto a crevice of his own, helping you in your critical task. He almost had his elbows secured on the rock, prompting you to put all your remaining strength behind this one last pull.

The second his elbows touched the rock, your foot slipped and you immediately let go of his hand to not drag him down with you.

It was disappointing to finally know that no, your life doesn't flash before your eyes moments before you die. You'd have loved to see your dad one last time before… well.

Screams pierced your ears right before darkness engulfed you in a sickening crack.

#bad batch x reader #tech x reader #crosshair x reader #wrecker x reader #hunter x reader #damn that ended badly #Wasn't even supposed to go this way #it litterally wrote itself #murphy day

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ithinkhesgaybutwesavedmufasa · 4 years

Note

Maxwell prompt for Versace & Dior. reader is pregnant right? What if Max is working late one night and something bad happened? Protective doggos to the rescue?

Kicking this off with a bang. Are we? [Prompt Info] [Completed Masterlist]

Pairing: Maxwell Lord x reader Warnings: language, violence, blood, pregnancy, threats

You don't remember when the screaming started. You just remember it happening. The noise was shrill and loud and you fought the urge to cover your ears as you realized the screaming wasn't coming from you. There was blood. So much of it. Smeared in a striking contrast on the cold, white linoleum as you laid on the floor and held your hands protectively over your pregnant belly.

Get up. You have to get up.

You were positive you had hit the security alarm on the wall in the kitchen before the stranger had bounced your face off the granite counter tops. But you couldn't take a chance. With a wince, you hauled your upper body up enough to crawl to the small table in the foyer and yank the landline phone down to your level before dialing.

"9-1-1 what's your emergency?"

The calm voice on the other end said. You started to respond but another round of vicious snarling a screaming cut you off.

"Can you hear me? 9-1-1, talk to me while I get your location."

Blood splattered across the end of your white silk nightgown and you couldn't take it anymore. "DIOR! HEEL!"

Barking and snapping, almost as if the animal was arguing with you.

"VERSACE! I'm not joki--fuck." You dropped the phone and doubled over in pain. Now that seemed to get their attention.

The dog came to you at once, it's beautiful white fur stained red quite in the same way as your silks. It bowed its head and looked at the much less injured of the two men and growled. Its brother took up your opposite flank and left the screaming burglar twitching in pain on the floor. You put your hand in a clean spot of that lush fur and used it to support yourself.

"My husband will finish what my boys have started." You made sure to look the man in the eyes as you picked up the phone and told the operator on the other end your address.

With a groan, you leaned against the wall and put your hand protectively over your unborn daughter. You breathed hard into the phone, but willed your voice to be plain and calm as you told the operator your name. "Someone broke into my home--I’m--fuck. I’m pregnant..."

“Mrs. Lord. Dispatch is on their way. Mrs. Lord?”

He saw the lights before the driver ever stopped the car. His neatly paved circular driveway was filled with police officers and an ambulance. The red and blue lights chased one another over the water of the giant fountain and over the columns of the mansion. His stomach dropped to his feet as he threw open the car door and hurried up the steps.

"Where is she?" Was the first thing he said as a police officer moved to stand in front of him. "This is my house, now where is my fucking wife!?"

"Max!"

He heard you call for him and all gloves were off. He shoved passed the uniformed man and stormed into the foyer. He would take the repercussions, if there were any. The moment he saw you, however, the storm that brewed inside of him died down.

You were hurt. The EMT at your feet dabbed the large gash on your forehead and your left eye was already starting to turn a sickly shade of black. He unclipped a wired monitor from your finger and recorded the vitals. He glanced wearily at Maxwell and you waved him away.

"I told you, I'm fine. Please--"

"Mrs. Lord, you might have a concussion. I'd really feel better if you went to the hospital." The young man looked at you wearily, eyes flicking between you and your husband.

"And I would feel better once the police stop treating my dogs as evidence!" You said, making your voice carry to the officer in charge that was standing in the kitchen.

Maxwell sat next to you on the couch and put his large hand in your hair, placing a firm kiss against your forehead. It grounded you, made you feel more centered.

"What happened?" He said, against your hair.

"She's got a pretty nasty shiner--"

"I wasn't speaking to you," Maxwell snarled at the EMT and you gave his thigh and gentle pat.

"Let him do his job, my love. That way I can stay here." You leaned back enough to look at him. "Versace and Dior saved me. They really ripped into the guy. So badly that they already took them to the hospital. The kitchen, Max--there's so much blood."

"We'll get someone to clean it." He took your hand and kissed your knuckles. "Where are the boys?"

"Being photographed and making sure they don't have any parts of the criminals between their teeth. I was told I couldn't bathe them until then."

"You won't be bathing them at all. I'll call their groomer." Max’s voice was flat, no gruff, the topic was not up for discussion.

"It's 1 A.M.--"

"I pay her enough. She'll come. Along with someone to clean the kitchen."

Both of you stayed quiet as the man at your feet put his stethoscope on his ears and pressed the cool, metal disc to your skin, while looking at his watch.

“Were you still at the office?” you asked quietly, leaning into his body and inhaling his expensive aftershave. The company had been dealing with a massive overhaul of all of their books and since you were on maternity leave, your replacements had been unsatisfactory. It had apparently gotten to the point that your husband had fired three that week alone.

Max paused and finally allowed himself to put his hand over your belly. "How is she?"

"Sleeping. Kicking my bladder. Practicing her gymnastics on my sciatic nerve. You know--the usual?" You laughed softly and it made him give you a very small grin. That would suffice for now.

Maxwell took your hand and kissed your knuckles, something that he always did after you told him years ago that it made you feel like royalty. “I’ll be right back.”

You nodded and watched him walk into the kitchen, taking the police officer in charge off to the side by the large set of bay windows. They spoke in low voices and you watched as Max’s handsome face turned to stone right before your eyes. The face that demanded authority wherever it went. The face that did not take ‘no’ for an answer. Although the men who broke into your house had been arrested and taken to jail, you had a feeling, you had a feeling they would be paying a price much more precious than simply a prison sentence.

#Maxwell Lord #maxwell lord x reader #max lord x reader #ww84 #wonder woman 1984 #pedro character fic #pedro pascal x reader #Versace & Dior #october Prompt fest

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bloody-bee-tea · 3 years

Text

JC Love Month 2020 Day 20 - Xichengfest 2020 Day 3

Nature - Love Song

Day 20 of JC Love Month and Day 3 of Xichengfest bring some soft Xicheng, who finally got somewhere with their love confessions in my Sing for me series. This follows after Bottle.

Jiang Cheng is just overseen the training of his junior disciples when Zhong Shanyuan comes up to him, a slight smile on his lips.

“What?” Jiang Cheng gruffly asks without taking his eyes from his disciples but it’s not as gruff as it used to be in the past and they both know it.

“Sect Leader Lan is here,” Zhong Shanyuan tells him and Jiang Cheng perks up at that before he gets himself back under control.

It’s still too late. Zhong Shanyuan already saw it, because his smile slides into the teasing territory.

“Do not even start,” Jiang Cheng threatens him, pointing a finger at him for good measure, too, and Zhong Shanyuan gentles his smile.

Jiang Cheng knows what to do with that even less, and so he turns towards his disciples again.

“It’s good to see Sect Leader Lan so often,” Zhong Shanyuan says, stepping into position next to Jiang Cheng, their shoulders brushing slightly. “It’s even better to see you happy,” he then adds and Jiang Cheng huffs, but Zhong Shanyuan’s words warm him.

“Where’s Jin Ling,” he asks, even though they both damn well know where he is but Zhong Shanyuan doesn’t call Jiang Cheng out on his poor diversion tactic.

“He’s with Jiang Mingli,” Zhong Shanyuan says. “I believe they are at the private piers.”

“Can you take over here?” Jiang Cheng asks, though he knows the answer and even if it was different, Jiang Cheng knows himself well enough to realize that he would have called training off, simply so he could go see Lan Xichen.

It’s most definitely a problem, but Jiang Cheng doesn’t care to think about it too hard. His disciples certainly wouldn’t mind, that Jiang Cheng is sure of.

“Of course,” Zhong Shanyuan says and immediately snaps out a new order, which the disciples follow beautifully.

Jiang Cheng stays a few moments longer, simply to roam his eyes over every last disciple, and then he turns and walks away.

It’s really impolite to leave another Sect Leader waiting after all.

Jiang Cheng doesn’t find Lan Xichen at the main entrance and he frowns for a brief second, before he figures that Lan Xichen possibly went to see Jin Ling.

Jiang Cheng did tell him that he was always welcome at Lotus Pier, that he didn’t need to wait for Jiang Cheng to lead him anywhere else, and Lan Xichen is certainly free to roam the private piers.

He spent a lot of time there already, after all, and most of it with Jiang Cheng asleep on him in one form or the other.

The thought still makes Jiang Cheng go hot in the face, so he shakes his head in an attempt to get rid of those thoughts and then he marches off to the private pier where he can already hear Jin Ling laugh from a distance.

The sound still warms Jiang Cheng’s heart, and it’s the only argument that makes him believe he’s not completely fucking Jin Ling’s life up, and he quickens his steps.

When the pier finally comes into view, Jiang Cheng comes to an abrupt stop at the sight in front of him.

Jiang Mingli is nowhere to be seen, so he must have handed Jin Ling over to Lan Xichen before he went his merry way and Lan Xichen is throwing Jin Ling high up in the air and always securely catching him again.

Jin Ling is shrieking with laughter, clearly not afraid at all, and whenever Lan Xichen isn’t quick enough to throw him again, he pats Lan Xichen’s face before he points up at the sky.

Lan Xichen always obliges him, throwing Jin Ling with a huge smile on his face, and if Jiang Cheng were still oblivious to his feelings for the other man, his complete and utter lack of fear at seeing Lan Xichen handle Jin Ling like that would clue him right in.

“Juu,” Jin Ling suddenly screams, twisting in the air as he catches sight of Jiang Cheng, and now Jiang Cheng’s heart does miss a beat, until Jin Ling is safely back in Lan Xichen’s arms, who seems a little more shocked as well.

Jin Lin kicks his little feet until Lan Xichen catches the hint and finally puts him down and then Jin Ling is off, sprinting towards Jiang Cheng as fast as his short legs carry him.

Jiang Cheng meets him halfway and swings Jin Ling up in his arms as soon as he can.

“Did you have fun with Xichen?” Jiang Cheng asks and Jin Ling nods enthusiastically before he settles into Jiang Cheng’s arms.

Jiang Cheng’s heart feels very full when Jin Ling snuggles into him like that and it only grows a size when Lan Xichen steps up to them with a soft smile on his face.

“I didn’t know he talked yet,” Lan Xichen says and gently shakes Jin Ling’s foot in his hand making Jin Ling squirm and laugh and Jiang Cheng shakes his head.

“It’s just that for now,” he admits, aware that it can barely be classified as talking, but he still remembers the first time Jin Ling has said it.

He might have taken a moment or five to shed a tear, before he could face Jin Ling again.

“I see,” Lan Xichen hums. “Only his most favourite person gets a name.”

“So far,” Jiang Cheng says. “I’m guessing he’ll be a blabber mouth once he really starts to speak.”

“As if you would mind,” Lan Xichen says and then points his head towards the pavilion at the end of the pier. “Sit with me?” he asks, and Jiang Cheng would be affronted if it was anyone else, because this is his home and no one should take these liberties, but he finds that it’s okay if it’s Lan Xichen.

“Sure,” he says and carries Jin Ling over, who seems to doze off in his arms, clearly exhausted from all his playing with Lan Xichen and no doubt before that with Jiang Mingli.

“Have you heard from Nie Mingjue?” Jiang Cheng asks him once they are settled down and someone brought them some tea and Lan Xichen hums.

“He’s reluctant to meet with you,” Lan Xichen says but he goes on before Jiang Cheng can go on the defence or feel offended. “He says if you drop by it’s hard to explain to Nie Huaisang what you’re doing there, and he doesn’t want to give him hope since we don’t know if it will work.”

Jiang Cheng thinks that over for a while; it seems impractical to wait for Nie Huaisang to leave the Unclean Realm, because Jiang Cheng isn’t sure if he ever really does leave.

“Can’t he come to Lotus Pier? Or Gusu, if that’s easier to explain?” Jiang Cheng asks and Lan Xichen nods.

“I proposed the same, since I figured you wouldn’t exactly mind if he comes by, but he says he needs time to think. I think his last qi deviation really shook him.”

Jiang Cheng can understand that, seeing how long it lasted and maybe it’s not only Nie Huaisang who doesn’t want to be given some false hope.

“I can send him an invitation, if you think it will help,” Jiang Cheng offers, seeing just how worried Lan Xichen still is for his friend, and he shrugs.

“It might. It won’t hurt, though,” he admits and Jiang Cheng nods.

“Consider it done, then.”

“Wanyin, thank you,” Lan Xichen seriously says and turns towards Jiang Cheng. “Really, thank you. I appreciate it so much that you’re willing to try.”

“Of course,” Jiang Cheng courtly says and busies himself with Jin Ling in his arms, simply so he doesn’t have to see the gratitude on Lan Xichen’s face.

It’s not in Jiang Cheng’s nature to deal well with these kind of feelings and Lan Xichen seems to realize that, because he brushes their shoulders together and then looks back out over the lake.

“Why are you here today?” Jiang Cheng asks before he winces and rushes to correct himself. “I mean, you don’t need a reason, I told you before, it’s okay if you just drop by.”

Jiang Cheng only stops his rambling when Lan Xichen puts a hand to his arm.

“I know,” he easily says, clearly not offended at all. “There is a reason actually,” he then admits and Jiang Cheng sits up straighter, even with Jin Ling in his arms, ready to move if Lan Xichen has a problem Jiang Cheng can fix.

“What can I do?” he asks and is not at all prepared for the look that passes Lan Xichen’s face.

Jiang Cheng doesn’t know how to deal with those feelings any more than he knows how to deal with all the others.

“Nothing,” Lan Xichen shakes his head and then scoots back a bit. “Well, you could lay down and put your head right here,” Lan Xichen says and pats his thigh with a hopeful smile.

“What for?” Jiang Cheng wants to know, because he is sleeping well these days and Jin Ling is already fast asleep in Jiang Cheng’s arms.

“It’s a surprise, Wanyin,” Lan Xichen tells him and Jiang Cheng’s heart might stumble a bit at that.

Lan Xichen’s eyes are dragged to the bell on Jiang Cheng’s belt and Jiang Cheng flushes when he remembers that Lan Xichen can hear it and also knows what it means.

And most importantly, that Lan Xichen isn’t shying away from Jiang Cheng, even though he knows what the bell means now.

Quite the opposite really, as he leans in and brushes a kiss over Jiang Cheng’s cheek.

“Please, Wanyin?” he whispers against his skin and a shudder runs down Jiang Cheng’s back.

How could he ever say no to that.

“Fine,” Jiang Cheng grumbles, mostly for show, and he shifts until he can lay down, Jin Ling cradled on his chest and his head in Lan Xichen’s lap.

It’s a familiar place by now and Jiang Cheng blushes when he realizes that.

“Close your eyes,” Lan Xichen whispers, putting a hand to Jiang Cheng’s head and he only starts to softly card his fingers through Jiang Cheng’s hair when Jiang Cheng complies with his wishes.

“There you go,” Lan Xichen whispers and Jiang Cheng sighs before he relaxes fully.

It is a very comfortable place to be in, after all.

There’s a brief silence, and to Jiang Cheng it feels distinctly like Lan Xichen is bracing himself for something, or maybe preparing himself for something and it’s almost enough to get Jiang Cheng to open his eyes again because Lan Xichen shouldn’t feel like that.

But before Jiang Cheng can move even a single muscle, Lan Xichen starts to hum under his breath, before he gradually picks up volume.

Jiang Cheng can’t quite understand the words, isn’t even sure there are any words to this song, but it feels like he’s been hit with a buck load of feelings anyway. It’s enough to bring tears to his eyes but he intently listens on, because it’s the most beautiful song Jiang Cheng has ever heard and he doesn’t want to miss a second.

The feelings that are conveyed with the song make him go hot all over and after a while he has to turn his head so that he can hide his face in Lan Xichen’s stomach.

The movement doesn’t disturb Lan Xichen at all it seems, because he continues to sing and it feels simultaneously like an eternity and like a blink before he falls silent again.

“That’s not a lullaby,” Jiang Cheng finally croaks out and Lan Xichen huffs out a laugh.

“No, it’s not,” he easily admits and Jiang Cheng presses into the hand still on his head. “You gave me the sound of your bell, I figured it’s only fair that I give you something in return. That I give voice to my feelings as well.”

Jiang Cheng suspected that that was what the song was about but to hear it stated so clearly by Lan Xichen still makes Jiang Cheng squirm enough that he sits up.

“You wrote me a love song,” he says, once he can look Lan Xichen in the face and it’s incredibly reassuring to see a faint blush on his cheeks as well.

“Yes,” Lan Xichen still confesses and cups Jiang Cheng’s cheek in his hand. “I hope I didn’t overstep.”

“Xichen, you can hear my bell,” Jiang Cheng says with a sigh. “There is no overstepping for you,” he then whispers and is not prepared for the blinding smile that breaks out on Lan Xichen’s face.

“I hoped so,” he gives back and then he guides Jiang Cheng closer, still mindful of the peacefully slumbering Jin Ling in Jiang Cheng’s arms.

“I’m in love with you,” Lan Xichen whispers, and Jiang Cheng almost feels the words against his lips, most definitely feels them down to his bones, and when he can’t find his words he simply leans in and brings their lips together.

He knows it’s not nearly sufficient as an answer, but it has to do until he can compose himself better.

The kiss is soft but by no means fleeting and when they part Jiang Cheng feels like he could burst with happiness when he sees the same dazed look on Lan Xichen’s face he suspects is on his own as well.

“I’m in love with you, too,” Jiang Cheng says, finally finding his voice and Lan Xichen strokes a finger over the bell.

“I can hear it,” he says with a smile and he looks so content that Jiang Cheng simply has to lean in again.

“Sing it for me again?” Jiang Cheng then asks eagerly, because how unfair that Lan Xichen can always hear his bell, while Jiang Cheng has to wait for Lan Xichen to sing for him.

“Always,” Lan Xichen gives back and this time, Jiang Cheng moves so that he fits against Lan Xichen’s side, whose arm readily comes up around him.

Lan Xichen presses a kiss to Jiang Cheng’s forehead and then strokes a finger down Jin Ling’s soft cheek before he starts to sing the song again.

Link to my ko-fi on the sidebar!

This is a place Jiang Cheng can definitely get accustomed to being in.

Next part

#bt writes #jclovemonth2020 #xichengfest2020 #the untamed #mdzs #xicheng #love confessions #toddler jin ling #soft #love songs #first kiss #fluff

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a-cupof-jo · 3 years

Text

Set Up My Heart Pt. 6

Pt. 5 -- Pt. 6 -- Pt. 7

College volleyball player!Johnny Suh x reader

Rivals-to-lovers

Fluff and angst

Synopsis: Ever since that fateful day Sophomore year of high school, Johnny Suh had been an insufferable thorn in your side. Once you made it to college you thought the two of you would never have to see each other again. That is, until a sudden school transfer has the entire university buzzing

When Jungwoo told you that the team ran more on the scrappy side than technical side, you thought that you were gonna have your work cut out for you. Instead, you were surprised to see a well gelled team with obvious athletic capabilities. A tall boy stood on the opposite side of the net and was the first to see you enter. “Hey,” he raised his hand in a wave. “You Y/n?”

You nod sitting down on the nearby bleacher, “Yeah, Jungwoo here yet?” You looked around for the energetic boy.

“Yeah, he said he would be back soon. He had to go grab a drink at the drink bar. I’m Lucas by the way,” he grinned as he reached out to shake your hand. “Jungwoo told us that you are going to be our secret weapon this year.”

You chuckle slightly, “I’m not sure about that. It’s been a while since I’ve played. I'm a bit rusty.”

“That’s okay,” he shrugged. “Most of us don’t play regularly. We are just doing it for fun.” He watched as you pulled the laces tight on your shoes. “Do you want me to introduce you to the rest of the team?”

“That would be great,” you smiled up at him. Lucas was an easy and outgoing person. You watch as he shouted and laughed as the other members of your new team started gathering around the net. With his carefree attitude and electric personality, you could see how it would be easy to really just view this as a fun sport activity. For so long you had viewed it as a competition, a way to keep your place in the society of high school, or even for scholarship opportunities. Maybe now you should take this opportunity to let that go. To relearn the sport as a way to have fun and grow communities.

“And this is Doyoung. Since Jaehyun decided to play for the baseball team we had to find a replacement, but don’t fret Jaehyun will forever be in our hearts. Rest in pieces,” Lucas cackled as Doyoung let out a disgruntled huff before smiling with the boy.

“You’re just lucky my schedule allowed me to do this,” Doyoung rolled his eyes at the three girls whose names you missed. “Speaking of which, where are Jungwoo and Taeil. I haven’t seen either one and we are supposed to get starting soon.”

“Doyoung please, you should lighten up. So what if we start a few minutes late,” you see Jungwoo walk into the circle. “You don’t have to follow your ‘schedule’ to T. Live a little.”

“That’s rich coming from you. You o-”

“Sorry I’m late!” a new voice yelled behind you. “My music composition class ran late and then Taeyong need help with the music for his upcoming dance competition and-”

“Taeil,” Jungwoo threw his arms around the newcomer obscuring him from view. “I’m so happy you made it!”

The shorter male gave Jungwoo a quick pat on the back before pulling away, “You guys can go ahead and get started. I’ll just take a moment to get my shoes on.” He glanced up with a smile and suddenly you knew him.

"Hey, you're in my Chemistry lecture aren't you?" stopped in front of him. "I think I sit next to you."

He studied your face for a second nodding, "Yeah, you dropped your pencil last week."

You blushed at that, "Yeah, so ho-"

"Y/n come on you can meet Taeil later," you gave an apologetic smile to Taeil before turning to Jungwoo. Jungwoo clapped his hands, “Great! Let’s get started.”

"That was fun," Lucas bounced in place as everyone stopped to stretch their tired limbs. "When's our first game again?"

"Two weeks, but I'm planning a scrimmage for next week instead of a practice," Jungwoo pulled his knee pads down. "Same time work for everyone."

You nodded along with the others, "Do you know what team?"

"I've got a couple of people I'm checking with," Jungwoo hummed before turning to one of the other girls, changing the topic.

You startled slightly as a bag was placed down beside you, "Hey," Taeil grinned. "Great job out there."

You smile back at the libero, "You too. I didn't realize that you were gonna be a libero."

"Setter, right?" he grinned as he finished putting on his slides. He shrugged as he stood, "I'll really play anywhere, but Jungwoo said that he thought you and I would play well off each other."

"Oh," you raise an eyebrow to where Jungwoo sat laughing with Lucas.

Taeil reached a hand out to pull you up off the ground, "Yeah, something about your past experience playing and mine. I don't know, Jungwoo's a character." You noticed that he smiled a lot and his eyes were inviting.

"He is," you agree. "but we love him anyway."

Doyoung hummed as he stepped up next to you guys, "Debatable."

"Doyoung, don't be mean," Jungwoo pouted. You all chuckled as he threw his arms around Taeil claiming he needed comfort. "Well I'm glad to see you all getting along well. I knew you'd be a great addition, Y/n."

"Hey," Doyoung gave a slight whine. "What about me."

Jungwoo grinned, "Debatable."

Doyoung good naturedly rolled his eyes, "Well, I've got to get going. Assignments wait for no one."

Taeil glanced down at his watch, "Shoot, I do too. Thanks guys keep me updated on next week." Jungwoo nodded as Taeil grabbed his bag and rushed to the gym doors, "Oh, I'll see in Chem, Y/n!"

Your response got swallowed up by the group yelling out goodbyes. You shake your head as you get ready to leave.

"I'll walk out with you," Lucas stood next to you, his bag hanging over his shoulder.

"Okay," you grin as you guys walk through the door. You laughed as Lucas tripped on a ledge. "Are you okay," you move out of the way as you feel others trying to walk through the door behind you. An arm bumped you and you glared at the back of a tall man's head.

"I'm fine," Lucas stumbled into the parking lot. "I'm just tired," he rubbed the back of his neck. "Well I better get going. It was nice to meet you, Y/n! I'll see you next week!"

"Bye, Lucas!" you unlock your car before sliding in. Maybe Jungwoo was right. Playing on this team might be good for you. You turn on the music and wait for the cool air in your car to start blowing. Glancing at your phone you see a text from Jungwoo confirming time for your scrimmage next week. You let out a yell as a finger tapped on your window. A man stood outside your window trying to look in. You check to make sure your doors are locked before honking your horn.

“Hey,” a gruff voice accompanied the tapping. “Roll down the window.”

You shift your car into drive, “Please leave, I'm just trying to go home.”

“Can you give me a ride to the bus stop,” he tried peering through the window again.

You swallow the lump in your throat before looking down the street, “Sir, there is a bus stop at the end of this parking lot. Please step away from my car.” Your voice came through firm, demanding the man step away.

“I just need a ride to the bus stop,” he jerked on the door handle. ”Come on, why won't a pretty girl like you just give an old man a drive.”

“Sir, please step-”

“Hey,” another man steps up to the car. “Is there a problem here?” You peer through the window before scoffing and rolling your eyes.

“She was just going to give me a ride,” the man with dirty clothes glared through the window.

Johnny stood arms crossed next to him, “I don’t think she was. In fact,” he glanced down at you. “That looks like the phone number for the police right now.”

“Hey,” the man looked down, panicked. “No, I was just leaving. You’re right. There’s a bus stop right there.” He quickly turned away and ran down past the bus stop and down the street.

Johnny continued to stand outside your door. You pull forward slightly before being stopped by another tap on your window. Rolling it down a crack you glare into hazelnut eyes. “You okay?”

“Just fine,” you turned and looked ahead. You didn’t need Johnny to step in. You were dealing fine on your own. Why was he even here? “I didn’t need you to come to my aid. I was taking care of it on my own.”

Johnny shrugged, “Maybe, but it doesn’t hurt to have some help. He was creepy and I don’t think he was going to back off anytime soon.”

You stare ahead, lips pursed. “I don’t know why you decided now would be a good time to step in. I thought that you ‘don’t like to get involved in other people's problems’. At least, wasn’t that your excuse in high school, hm?” Your eyes burned as you finally turned to look at him.

“Y/n, I was young. I didn’t-”

You hold up your hand, “Don’t. I don’t want to hear your excuses. What happened, happened and neither of us can change that now.” You sigh glancing up at him. His eyes held tension and pain. The past was written across his face. “I’ve got to go.” You roll up the window. Johnny’s hand fell from the roof of your car as you slowly pulled way. Before you exited the parking lot you glanced into the rearview mirror. Johnny’s head was ducked as he walked towards the gym. Maybe you were being unfair, but he deserves it. He always showed up when it didn’t matter.

*Repost from previous blog*

tag list: @beyond-gethsemane @lanadreamie @michplusb @jaxminskale @nanascupid @qianinterprises @stayctday @infnteen @sadgirlroo

#nct scenarios #NCT fluff #nct fic #Johnny fluff #johnny fics #johnny x reader #johnny angst

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