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anyoneseenadam · 3 years

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Home: chapter one

azriel x reader (acotar)

summary: (y/n) is a daughter of Persephone, still recovering from the trauma of her fall into Tartarus and doesn’t have time for a stupid, handsome, annoying, stunning, injured man. But now they’re stuck together in the middle of nowhere and there only chance of getting home is if she can heal him, and fast.

warnings: big spoilers for mark of Athena and house of Hades, also some for the acotar series, eventual smut, blood, PTSD, graphic descriptions of violence, injuries and torture, enemies to lovers so az is a bit of a dick to start, swearing

word count: 2.8k

a/n: this is the first proper fic I have written in so so so long and i’m legit nervous to post it so pls be nice, plus feedback is always appreciated. there are more parts to come, I’m not sure how many yet but i’m going to try post regularly! message me if you wanna be tagged and i’m gonna try figure out how to make a masterlist :)

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The view from your window was beautiful yet haunting. Your eyes roamed over countless wildflowers, yet your stare would linger on a poppy or a Red Admiral butterfly and you were back there. You were tied down and crying, body and brain equally numb until another searing lash stripped your back of flesh, white-hot pain rushing through your body and forcing an involuntary cry to tear from your lips.

You quickly stood, wiping your hands down your skirt in an attempt to quell the memories surfacing, the ones you had desperately tried to supress since you had fallen. You quickly moved, all but running to the bathroom, needing to do something, anything, so long as it got you out of your head. You stopped when you caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror, looking exactly as you felt. The dark circles under your eyes from nights spent with hot tears flowing freely down your cheeks and into your hair and ears made you look ghostly, paired with the dull tone your skin had taken on, losing its natural glow. You looked as empty as you felt, a shell of the person you once were.

Tears welled in your eyes, but you quickly moved away, instead walking to the kitchen, the nausea from not eating overcoming you, yet the thought of eating just made you more nauseous. You found an apple at the bottom of a practically empty fridge and cleaned it softly, then used a blade to cut it into four, forcing it down, repeating the benefits it gave your body as you went, the basic information you had learned in your high school biology class, using the information to push through the sick feeling residing in your stomach, and instead focusing on the energy you desperately needed.

Your gaze drifted to the ajar door that led to your expansive garden, the cottage you lived in itself was small, but your garden was your pride and joy, your power sifting through all the plants in it, bringing them to life in ways of indescribable beauty, nearby animals coming to exist in harmony, safe under the care of their protector. But recently the usual vibrancy of the garden was dimming, the grass turning yellow and the plants wilting. There were no deer napping under bushes and barely any birds taking full advantage of the seed you laid out for them. You pushed past the door and into the garden, the plants brightening as you trailed your hands over their leaves. You found your favourite spot to sit in and dragged your fingers through the grass, smiling despite yourself as it visibly perked up, turning greener instantly. Your gaze trailed to a ruby throated hummingbird that had landed on the special feeder you left out for them, your breath hitching at the red colour, mind instantly returning to the dark, unable to tear your eyes away from the innocent bird.

The first thing you remember seeing was red, red water flowing like blood, red rocks beneath your bent knees, and your skin tinted red from dried blood seeping out of the wounds the chains around your wrists had inflicted on you. You sought to remember where you were, your mind drifting back to how you clung to Annabeth, your stomach aching from what must have been a broken rib, even as she was roughly pulled backwards, even as Percy desperately grabbed her, falling over the edge too, not quite reaching Nico’s shaking hand as he desperately tried to save you. You remembered been torn from their grip during the fall, a Fury hoping for a demi-god it could pick apart, you remember Annabeth screaming they would save you. But you don’t remember landing here, and you don’t remember the chains being attached to your wrists and ankles, or your shirt being removed, a choice you decided couldn’t mean anything good. However, you knew you would never forget the dark chuckle you heard behind you. Or the colour red.

Azriel didn’t know where he was. He knew he wasn’t in his world at least, but that was as far as his knowledge went. He was simply tired after a long mission far away from Velaris and his family and had tried to travel through the shadows to his home. Yet here he was, farther away from home than he had ever been and absolutely exhausted. He stepped out of his shadows and had to blink as the tallest buildings he had ever seen came into view. He absentmindedly took a step forward, then another until he was roughly shoved into, a man with a thick accent he couldn’t place swearing at him. His head whipping around as he got his bearings and moved to follow the direction more people than he could believe were walking until the crowd thinned out.

With less people present he slowed his pace, hands drifting to his pockets when civilians stared, old insecurities that never really left him rising to the surface, and instead took the time to admire the strange world he was in. the fashion in this new world was vastly different to his own, groups of girls congregating in tiny shorts and tight tops, next to groups in which there were girls in all black and boys in skirts. There were men and women dressed sharply talking quickly to no-one in particular, with hands pressed to their ears, there were people in rags begging for money and there were people dressed in ways he couldn’t even fathom to understand. By the time he reached the end of the street he was sure he had seen everything, and walked onto a more recognisable street, one with smaller buildings, unlike the magnificent glass structures, made from stone and wood and with friendlier faces behind stalls filled with food he recognized along with food he had never seen before.

He made his way through the market, losing track of time, the initial anxiety he felt seeping away, if he got here, he could easily return home, right? Instead, he chose to focus on the culture of this new world, determined to tell his family of the wonder he had uncovered, faintly hearing different languages from people’s conversation, and music coming from the open window of what he presumed was a coffee shop. He distantly wondered if they could see his wings, as no-one eyes lingered the way he had grown used to, in fact it seemed they couldn’t look at them, he presumed humans in this world simply had a natural glamour preventing them from seeing fae, that being said however, no matter how hard he tried he couldn’t spot another fae.

Eventually he reached the end of the street and decided he should return home now in order to stop his family from worrying, searching for a shadowed alley so as to not draw to much unwanted attention to himself. He walked to an alley that he decided would do the trick, excited to share this adventure with his family, but stopped short when he came face to face with a girl in a short skirt with incredibly pale skin and fire-like hair leaning over a passed-out man, sucking blood from his neck. She looked up when he approached and he saw that her hair was not just fire-like but literally fire, and her eyes were glowing red, and angry. More alike her then came out of the shadows, he quickly counted six, sighing as he pulled Truth-teller out of its sheath.

Shit. I am not in the mood for this.

You strolled through your favourite farmers market in NYC, the colours that filled the stalls always bringing some cheer back into your life, along with the thought of home-made meals and your practically overflowing basket, filled with fruit, vegetables, bread, and other necessities, but not meat, not since the animals started speaking to you when you first arrived at camp, and nothing red, you still couldn’t face that.

You made a quick stop at your favourite coffee place, opting to get your drink to go, only making polite conversation when you had to, and smiling through any other interaction. You were soon ready to leave, basket and dusty blue corduroy jacket slung over one arm, cup in that hand and your phone that the Hephaestus cabin had adapted in the other, when you heard pained grunts and the cackle of a monster you wished you could just forget already from a nearby alley.

You gave a pained sigh, looking longingly at your coffee before chugging it and throwing the cup in a nearby bin, making your way over to the alley. When you got there, you saw an unnaturally dark alley filled with a gaggle of Empousa surrounding a tall, winged man who was fighting incredibly well but clearly hadn’t gotten the celestial bronze memo, as his blade was defective.

“Long time no see ladies” you said, smirking at the growls that tore from the back of their throats as they tore around to stare at you, recognition in their horrifyingly red eyes. “What no hugs, no happy reunions?”

“You.” The middle one snarled, lunging forward, only to be cut down by the thick, green vine you had grown, intertwined with strands of celestial bronze you kept wrapped around your wrists disguised as thin, looping bracelets, and exploding into dust which you nonchalantly wiped from your shoulder.

“Whose next,” you laughed as three of them leaped at you, two staying behind and keeping the winged man, who had taken to staring at you with an unreadable expression, occupied. You destroyed them quickly enough to see the man falter as one of the Empousa force their talon like nails into his side, twisting it and pulling it out. You rolled your eyes, moving to pick up his slack, wrapping the vine around its neck and pulling until it exploded into the fine dust. The man was on the floor now, clutching his side, as you stalked forward to the final monster.

“You know I really just wanted a chill day,” you complained,

“I remember you,” it hissed, smiling at you with razor sharp teeth.

You fought a shudder and forced the memories down, “I’m glad I made an impression.”

“They want you back you know, we never got to finish playing.”

You snarled and went to move, but it was too fast, and you realised your mistake in waiting too long as it released a piercing cry that must have notified monsters from miles away, “shit,” you muttered under your breath, killing it quickly and moving to the winged man’s side.

“Hey, any chance those wings are good at flying,” you asked, “cause we’re about to be swarmed and I really just wanna get home.” You put his arm over your shoulders and dragged him up, grunting under his weight.

“I-it, poison.” Was all he said, fully leaning on you.

“Shit, okay um,” you racked your brain for an idea, furrowing your brows when you saw monsters start coming around the corner, eyeing you like their favourite toy. The man looked up from beneath his thick, dark hair before cursing and tightening his grip on your shoulder.

“Just hold on,” he said,

“What? Wait no!” you shouted, clinging to his arm as suddenly you were engulfed in darkness, only to suddenly be blinded by bright, hot light, forcing your eyes closed.

When you opened them again, you were on a sandy beach facing an impossibly blue ocean. Your mouth fell open and you turned to ask the man some questions, (or yell at him you were yet to decide) just in time to watch him collapse, falling onto the sand with a soft thud, red blood steadily flowing out of his side, the blood draining from your face at the sight.

Shit.

You stared down at the man in disbelief for at least two minutes. He can shadow-travel. Is he a son of Hades? Gods know I don’t need another step sibling. Also, where the fuck am I? Why a beach? Is it LA? I might marry him if it’s LA. A million thoughts raced through your head as you stared at him, guessing that the unnatural darkness you saw before must have come from the shadows you could now see were surrounding him, protecting him from the light and, when you moved closer, you. From what you could see, he was handsome, if not slightly dead looking, thick, dark hair and a lean, muscular build. Wait dead looking? You cursed jumping into action, checking his pulse, relieved when you found it, before moving to his side using the knife you kept tucked into your boot to hack through the leathers he was wearing in order to reveal the gash.

It wasn’t wide but seemed deep as it was gushing dark red blood, you blanched and screwed your eyes shut at the sight, fighting the memories of your own dark red blood. You opened your eyes purposefully not looking at the cut as you used his torn leathers to put pressure on the cut and start dragging him up the beach to an area you could grow the thin vines you would need as makeshift stitches.

Azriel woke to an extreme discomfort in his side, in a place he didn’t recognise. He pushed up into a sitting position, wincing at the reminder of his wound, and looked around, finding himself shirtless, surrounded by trees on a sandy floor. A girl was sitting cross-legged, staring- no- glaring at him and he felt himself return a confused expression, vaguely remembering her as the girl that had killed the monsters that he could have sworn were completely invulnerable.

“What are you?” She asked suddenly, her bluntness taking him by surprise, but before he could answer she continued, “I mean I’m presuming you’re some sort of child of Hades, given you shadow travelled, but I don’t understand what else, cause you’re defo not part human?”

“Hades?” he asked, frowning at the words he didn’t understand.

“Yeah?” she asked slowly, raising her eyebrows at him as if it was something obvious.

He scoffed, “I don’t need to tell you anything.”

“Oh, is that so? No thank you or anything? I mean it’s not like I saved your life and I mean least of all I would expect an apology.” She was rambling as she stared at him in disbelief.

“An apology?”

“Yeah, for getting me stuck here.”

“Where’s here?”

“Fuck if I know,” she threw her hands up in exasperation, “I thought you know, I’ve done enough, I’ll let him find a cure for that poison on his own, I just wanna go home, so I decided lets get my bearings. I’ll find a high place and work out where I am, only to climb to the top of a fucking mountain and realise you got us stuck on a fucking Island!”

He slowly stood, bracing himself on a tree, as she remained sat, levelling him with an unimpressed stare. He shook his head, not needing to babysit this girl, and instead shot up from the ground, flying above the island to see she was in fact correct, there didn’t seem to be land for miles.

Suddenly, a sharp shooting pain went up his right side and he lost control of his balance for a second, all but plummeting to the ground.

“Yeah you shockingly haven’t healed completely yet,” the girl said moving to his side and pushing away his maimed hands from his wound, barely even glancing at the scars, “I have some ideas as to what will cure the poison, but if you want to fly away and leave me to die here, be my guest,” every word was dripping with sarcasm and he fought back a growl at her as she inspected his wound, were he saw he had torn the peculiar, green stitches.

He watched her carefully, not fully trusting her, as she inspected his stitches, furrowing his eyebrows when she significantly paled at the sight of his blood. “What scared of a little blood,” he instantly regretted the biting words when she snarled at him and put more pressure on the wound than was necessary, feeling slightly guilty given she had saved his life, but her attitude was infuriating, and he just wanted a hot bath and food.

“Okay, so here’s what’s going to happen, I’m going to stitch you back up, and then we’re gonna find a lake or some source of fresh water, you’re going to heal extremely quickly so you can take us back home and you’re not going to give me anymore shit? Kapeesh?” The stare she gave him could’ve rivalled his own in terms of intimidation, but instead of challenging her he just nodded, setting his jaw.

“Good. Now, nice to meet you, I’m (y/n),” she said reaching out a hand,

“Azriel.” Was all he said, meeting her small, soft hands in his rough, scarred ones, the difference in texture astounding him, still not entirely used to touch, and ignored the tightness in his chest when she offered him a cocky smirk.

#azriel x reader #azriel #acotar #acomaf #acosf #acofas #rhysand #feyre #percyjackson #greek mythology #heroes of olympus

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victoria-daydreams · 3 years

Text

Till Kingdom Come

Chapter Twelve: A Macabre Rite of Passage

AN: You ever lose a post in your drafts? No, just me. Well, that’s what happened here. I didn’t think that was possible lol.

Word Count: 4.6k

Trigger Warnings: none

Taglist: @nerds4life246, @leahnicole1219

Chapter Thirteen: A Simple Lover’s Quarrel

New York, 1889

On a sunny, New York City afternoon, sunlight shone down on the stately, grimy buildings providing some brightness to the residents below. Creaking of carriage wheels filled the crisp air along with the distinct cries of newsboys, shouting the latest headlines on every available street corner. The busy street was filled with carts selling fruits and vegetables of all kinds to the bustling crowd of New Yorkers, carrying baskets of groceries while children clung to their mother's side or onto their cuddly toys. Couples of young and old strolled on the cobblestone streets, sporting colorful gowns and embroidered suits. Occasionally, stopping to consort with a member of the class below them.

It was just another regular day in the city and Sabine was right in the middle of it.

"Remind me why we're doing this today?" he asked.

Side by side, she walked with Bastien as they did bit of grocery shopping of their own.

Sabine smirked, "Because while we are immortal, we still need to eat," she replied, keeping her voice low.

Steam rose up above the general cheerful chatter of the crowd, coupled with the enticing smells of the competing aromas wafting from the immigrant street vendor's wares.

"Honestly, this is your fault," Sabine stated, adjusting her grip on her own heavy basket. "Someone couldn't keep their hands off me this morning," she pointed out. "We could have been finished by now,"

"Well, someone didn't seem to mind my freshly shaven face..." he trailed off, discretely lowering his lips to her ear. "All over their body," he finished, regaining his posture with a cocky grin.

Her cheeks heated at his words.

"What can I say?" Sabine began, looking over at him. "You cut quite the dash with a scraped chin," she complimented, forcing herself to not touch Bastien's face, a gesture that would be heavily frowned upon.

"I do, don't I?" he remarked, as he gave his clean shaven jaw a stroke.

The two of them passed by rag-tag groups of men and women that walked between the lamp posts. As they crossed over to another street, they walked past a group of middle aged men dressed in sharp suits, smoking on cigars and buying the latest newspapers.

"Wait here will you," Bastien requested. "I must know the latest scandal rocking this city," he quipped, making Sabine smile.

"Go on," she chuckled, flicking her chin out toward the pale faced and rag-adorned newsies ahead of them.

Bastien flashed a smile of his own before moving away from Sabine, leaving her alone on the corner of the sidewalk. Tilting her head up, Sabine briefly admired the cloudless blue sky. She couldn't believe her dreams of coming to New York after had come into fruition. After California, the band of immortals state hopped their way from the West Coast back to the East Coast, residing in big cities where it was easy enough to blend in. There was only one area that they all refused to live in and that was the South.

It seemed like everyday new Jim Crow laws were being enacted...or there was news of another lynching.

The shriek of street children playing in the alleys with a refreshing degree of excitement snapped Sabine from her daze, shaking her head a bit. She had gone into a slight trance and the passing crowd didn't offer her much of a second glance, only if it was to silently question her social status as a colored woman wearing a dress of a middle class woman at best. But Sabine ignored the occasional stares and held her head proudly, waiting for Bastien to return.

"Sabine?"

The voice hit her by surprise and she froze. Nobody knew her real name outside of Bastien, Andy, Nicky, and Josef. The owner of said voice was female, but it sounded weak, frail even. All of which that made it abundantly clear that it was not Andy.

"Sabine?"

Looking from her left to her right, Sabine couldn't find the voice at first only seeing people perusing around the vendors and carriages that trundled along holding the rich. It wasn't until she completely turned around and found herself staring down at an older, black woman, maybe in her late sixties or early seventies.

"May I help you ma'am?" Sabine asked, cocking her head.

"My, my, my," she breathed, her eyes roving over her face. "It's you, it's really you," the woman stated, reaching out to touch her face.

Sabine leaned away from her a little, "Ma'am...I...think you have me confused with someone else," she corrected, but the woman just shook her head.

"I'd know this face from anywhere, so warm and full of love and shaped just like a heart," she remarked. "A mother always knows her daughter's face, Sabine," she said gently.

Sabine nearly fainted from the woman's words.

Her mouth opened and closed, "No, no, you must be mistaken," she said, shaking her head.

The woman gripped onto her arm, "You are, you must be!" she maintained, trying to convince Sabine or maybe herself.

"I-I-"

"Mama, Mama!" another female voice called.

A middle-aged, well dressed woman came hurrying over to them with a parcel in her hand.

"Mama, please let go of the young lady's arm. We don't need to cause a scene in front of all these people," she said, placing her hand on top of her mother's and scanning the crowd nervously.

Sabine glanced around the busy street and sidewalks as well, but no one seemed phased about what was transpiring. In their heads, its just another colored family having a squabble.

"But Emile,"

Once that name came from her lips, Sabine was sure that she was actually going to drop to the ground. Blood rushed to her ears and drummed in its canals, muffling all the sounds surrounding her while she felt heartbeat increase dramatically, it felt like her chest was going to explode.

"Emile. Mama. Here?" Sabine thought.

Faintly, she could hear her older sister and mother arguing with each other.

"See reason Mama, this can't be Sabine, she's too young,"

"It is her, you can't recognize your own sister? She's a Freemen like us,"

"What's going on here?"

Bastien's deep voice is what brought Sabine back down to Earth as she attempted to process if what was happening actually real. His expression was a mixture of seriousness and confusion while tucking his newspaper under his arm. Emile and the older woman instantly became demure at the arrival of Bastien, her mother even going so far as letting go of her arm as if it burned her.

"It's nothing sir, my mother was bit confused," Emile explained, her eyes not quite meeting Bastien's. "It was a mistake, we apologize for wasting your time and disturbing your maid," she said, before quickly walking away arm in arm with her mother from Sabine and Bastien.

"My maid?" he repeated, his brow furrowing and looking in the direction of where the two women went.

Sabine placed her hand on her chest, trying to calm her erratic breathing down which did nothing of the sort.

"Sabine, are you okay?" Bastien inquired, eyes filled with concern.

His hand went to reach to touch her on the waist, but he quickly snatched his hand back. Thank god, he remembered to show restraint.

"Sabine?" he called again, waiting for an answer.

"I think I just ran into my family," she breathed out.

~~~x~~~

"You're acting like a spoiled brat Sabine," Bastien said, opening the door to their home. "You don't get your way for once and you throw a fit," he added, closing the door after Sabine marched inside.

This argument had raged on since the moment they left the street where Sabine had been reunited with her family. They did their best to keep the heated whispers between them, but occasionally Sabine's temper got the better of her and she drew more than a few stares when she lashed out at Bastien. However, once they entered the confines of the safe house, the gloves came off, figuratively and literally.

Sabine slammed down the basket onto a table near the door, "I'm acting like a spoiled brat for wanting to see my family?" she repeated incredulously, as she roughly tugged at her gloves.

Bastien pulled his coat off, "Yes, you are," he insisted, removing his hat and hanging it above his coat. "If that is your family, then they think you're probably dead and it is best that we leave that way,"

Sabine placed her hands on hips and frowned, in utter disbelief at what Bastien said.

"No, it is not," she disagreed, vehemently shaking her head. "Did you see the desperation in her eyes, the way she tightly clung to my arm? After all she has been through in her life, from being enslaved and watching her daughter be ripped away from her. Why should I be the one to make her suffer even more?" she questioned, pointing to herself.

"You're not Sabine!" Bastien replied in exasperation. "She's an old woman, for all we know, she thinks every girl that looks like you might be her daughter," he reasoned, sticking his arm out to the side.

Sabine lifted her brow, "She said my sister's name, Emile," she pointed out, shrugging her coat off.

"Coincidence," he retorted.

"They have Louisianian accents for god's sake!"

"Sabine, there are plenty of slaves that could've escaped from Louisiana named Emile," Bastien guessed, and Sabine's coat hit him dead center in his chest, hard.

"Don't be an ass!"

"What? It's a possibility!"

"You are the most infuriating man I've ever met!"

Sabine began pacing up and down the den area in a vain attempt to control her temper.

"Hey, what is all this yelling about?" Josef asked jokingly, walking around the corner.

"I think they're having a lover's quarrel," Nicky commented, coming from behind him.

She halted in her movements, "Sebastien won't let me reunite with my long, lost mother and my family!" Sabine exclaimed, pointing an accusatory finger at him.

Josef's eyes widened sharply, "Your mother?" he repeated, as Andy joined them as well, a half-closed book in her hand.

"Yes!"

"And I forbid you from going to see her," Bastien declared, placing his hands on the waist.

Sabine scoffed, "You forbid me?" she echoed, raising her brow again. "I'm not a fucking child, I do as I damn well please!"

"See Andy," Bastien started, walking towards the oldest immortal. "I told you that we had gone too soft on her," he stated gesturing towards Sabine.

A sympathetic expression was on the older woman's face as she looked at the youngest immortal.

"Sabine, I'm going have to agree with Booker," Andy spoke up, causing Sabine to deflate a bit. "I do understand why you want to do this, but it's going to cause nothing but pain,"

Bastien lifted his hand in the air as if to say 'thank you'.

"I mean, what would you even tell them, hmm?" Bastien questioned, shoving his hands into his pants pockets. "Hello, I'm Sabine, you're long lost daughter thought to be dead. I'm technically forty-seven, but I have the face of a twenty-two year old!"

"Then I won't tell them my true identity!" she shot back. "I'll play the role of a concerned young woman if it means I get to see my family again!" Sabine exclaimed.

"Book maybe-" Nicky began.

"No," Bastien interrupted, looking at him. "Sabine," he called, turning to face her again with his hands pressed together. "I am trying to protect you, reuniting with your family will only bring you more pain," he stressed.

"Just because you're family despised you when they died, doesn't mean mine will!" Sabine snapped.

Even though the sentence had already left her lips, she realized how cruel it was.

Bastien tightened up, his face no longer showing any measure of restraint. He let out a breathy laugh of disbelief and Sabine could see how much her words hurt him to say what she did, his blue eyes were practically swimming now. Regret gnawed at her, she didn't mean to say that, it was the heat of the moment and tempers were flaring. And she...she said it. Sabine didn't like how this was going, she felt her guilt grip on her harder the longer she looked at Bastien.

For once, there was utter silence between all of them, it was eerie, unsettling even. Sabine did not like this sudden change, it was obvious it made miserable company.

"Bastien, I..." Sabine trailed off, when he would no longer look her in the eyes. "Bastien," she called again, but he did not meet her stare.

The Frenchman moved away from her without speaking a word, his expression held tightly. He moved towards the front door and gathering his coat and hat as he went.

"I'll go after him," Josef muttered, briefly looking over to Sabine and giving her a forced semi-smile. "Booker," he called, jogging to catch up with him.

The door slammed shut and Sabine felt herself flinch as the sound reverberated throughout the room, leaving her feeling inexplicably cold. Josef, with his coat in hand, reopened the door and this time closing it with a soft click. Sabine dug the heels of her palms into her eyes, wondering how she was ever going to fix what just happened. Warm hands found there way on top of Sabine's shoulders and gave them a reassuring squeeze.

"Everything will be fine Sabine," Nicky assured, and she lifted her head away from her palms.

"How could you possibly think that?" she asked, shaking her head. "Did you not hear what I said to him?" she questioned, feeling her eyes well up.

Sabine knew that Nicky could see the guiltiness on her face, it was easily readable.

"Excuse me," she whispered, her voice trembling and rushed towards the hall where her bedroom was.

The door swung open and Sabine snatched her hat off her head, throwing it to the floor with one hand and slamming the door shut behind her with the other. Blindly, she threw herself onto her bed, landing stomach first with a muffled thwump against the mattress. A soft sob left Sabine as she gripped the soft blanket, her chest tight. A few tears leaked from her eyes and she did nothing to stop them. Sniffling, Sabine sunk deeper into the mattress.

Suddenly, there was a knock at her door and Sabine lifted her head from her pillows and looked back at the door. Sabine turned away, intent on ignoring whoever it was and let out a sigh instead as she closed her eyes. There was shuffling from outside her door, but Sabine remained keen on ignoring Nicky or Andy, they would give up eventually. That belief quickly left her mind as soon as she heard the door knob turn slowly on its hinges.

Then the door creaked open.

The sound of heels clacking against the floor echoed hollowly throughout the bedroom, Sabine squeezed her eyes just as the bed dipped beside her. She felt a hand gently nudge her.

"Come on, Sabine. Get up," Andy ordered softly. "No use in sulking, what's been said has been said, and you can't change that," she said.

Reopening her eyes, she slowly turned her head in Andy's direction. Sabine knew she undoubtedly looked like a mess, her face was slightly red and teared stained. Her eyes, which were usually warm and clear, were now blurred and teary.

"I've ruined everything Andy," Sabine croaked out, sniffling once more. "I-" she began, but stopped herself.

She could feel a lump in her throat that was keeping her from finishing her sentence, and the emotion that clung to her words wasn't making the lump go away any sooner.

"Now, now," Andy started, rubbing her on the back soothingly. "Don't be dramatic," she stated. "The two of you were arguing and hurtful things were said by both parties, that's not unlike for couples,"

Sabine scoffed, "I doubt Bastien would throw it in my face that I was a slave, as I did with mentioning his dead wife and kids," she pointed out, shaking her head.

"No, I don't think he would,"

"He has every right to be mad at me," Sabine replied. "He misses her, he misses all of them," she stressed, burying her head in the pillows. "And I went ahead and said...that," she finished, letting out a huffed breath and closing her eyes.

"Well, I'm not here to berate you Sabine," Andy informed, shifting herself on the bed. "You know what you did and you know what you must do," she remarked.

"I know,"

The youngest immortal looked over at her elder, her brown eyes mixing with gray ones. A grim expression lined Sabine's face. Of course she felt bad for what she did and was trying to fix it, but she feared it wouldn't be good enough. They had their fights like any couple, but this one was different, it felt different. This one was more personal, on both ends. Right now, Sabine wanted nothing more to be wrapped in Bastien's embrace, to have silly, meaningless debates like they always did about food, books, and art. Now she wasn't sure if those would happen anytime soon.

In her anger, Sabine crossed a line.

Andy let out a sigh, "Sit up, sit up," she said, gently pulling at her body.

Sabine was reluctant to move from her position, much more content to wallow in her sorrows, but she did and let Andy guide her into a upright position. Scooting closer towards her, Andy put one hand on Sabine's shoulder and the other on her cheek.

"Clean your face," she instructed softly, using her thumbs to wipe the remaining tears away. "You, Nicky, and I are going out," she announced, her hand gently gripping at Sabine's arm.

"Where?"

"I'm sure Nicky and I could use some fresh air as we finish the rest of today's errands," Andy explained, while Sabine looked over at where she threw her hat. "And you could use the air as well to clear your head, put you at ease a little," she suggested, and Sabine met her gaze again. "Sound good?" Andy questioned, with an encouraging smile.

Sabine nodded her slowly, "Sounds wonderful," she responded, a genuine grin growing on her lips.

~~~x~~~

Sitting at her vanity clad only in her nightdress, Sabine silently unpinned her hair. A knock rapped against her door as she dropped the pin into a little enameled box.

"Come in," she said in a clear voice,

Sabine heard a soft click behind her at the same time that she dropped another pin into the box. When her eyes returned to the mirror, her movements froze at who was standing in the door frame. At that moment, the temperature in the bedroom seemed to drop a few degrees.

"Sebastien," she whispered, turning slightly towards him. "I-" she began, but stopped when he quietly stepped in, closing the door after him

Sabine went to stand up and Bastien just shook his head, motioning for her to stay where she was. Her mouth suddenly felt dry and all the words she had come up with earlier had up and vanished.

"May I?" he asked, gesturing towards her hair.

She nodded slowly, shifting her body to face the mirror again and Bastien's hands found themselves into her hair. He took the ornate silver comb from on top of the vanity and started at the ends. Sabine watched him through the mirror, feeling his fingers separating every last strand of her hair.

"Where did you go?" she asked quietly, finding the courage to speak.

"Where do you think?" he asked back just as softly, though there was a hint of humor in his tone, but also a trace of bitterness.

Though she tried, Sabine could not ignore the overwhelming stench of cigarette smoke and booze, clinging to Bastien's clothes. She stared at his reflection again, he seemed completely unfazed or even showed the slightest sign of inebriation. Bastien languidly ran the comb through her black locks, with steady hands, stroke after stroke. Normally, she would this find quite amusing, Bastien playing sober incredibly well when they both knew he was not. Except that it wasn't, not today at least. Especially since she was part of the reason why he smelled like a brewery and the whites of his eyes were bloodshot.

"What is going on in that head of yours?"

Bastien had caught Sabine's stare in the mirror and held it, he could see the troubled look in her eyes.

"Why are you...why are you being so kind to me, Bastien?" she asked, her tone guarded. "I was absolutely dreadful towards you earlier," she admitted.

"Yes, yes you were," he agreed, without breaking eye contact and Sabine felt herself wince.

It was one thing to acknowledge it, it was another to hear it spoken aloud by Bastien himself. It stung in more ways than she thought it would. She cast her eyes downward, feeling uneasy and ashamed, but two fingers underneath her chin guided her eyes back to the glass in front of her.

"Shall I braid your hair for you?" he asked.

"Yes, please,"

Bastien's fingers combed through her hair once more and Sabine closed her eyes at his touch, feeling him beginning to braid with surprising ease.

"I would do this for my wife every night before bed," he stated softly.

Sabine's eyes snapped back open, recognizing that far off tone he gets when mentioning his family.

"I guess that explains why you are the only man to possess this rare ability and other men don't," she replied, an attempt to be humorous.

He stopped, only to return to his task a second later, "Or how I'm adept at lacing a corset so well," he mentioned.

"You did that for your wife as well?"

"Every morning when I could," he replied, finishing the braid and combing at the ends.

Sabine felt her heart squeeze slightly with guilt. She turned in her chair, looking up to the man behind her.

"Bastien, I do apologize for my behavior today. I should've never said what I did,"

"When I told you about my family, something so intimate to me and how they treated me afterwards..." he trailed off. "I never would've thought that you would take information and use it against me in the manner that you did,"

"I-" Sabine started, but cut herself off, she could feel herself getting worked up and defensive. "I didn't mean for it to come out that way," she stated, sighing deeply. "I knew where the conversation was headed, I knew what your concerns were," she continued, standing up from her seat. "I wish I had worded it differently, but I was so angry, so hurt, by your flippant attitude. At that point, I stopped caring. I wanted to say something, anything, to reciprocate the same pain you were causing me," Sabine explained, wringing her hands. "Only I took it far," she finished, glancing up at him.

The nervous motions in her hands grew tighter and more frantic that she had to move her hands behind her back.

"Sabine, it felt like you took a knife, and stabbed me with it," Bastien described. "And then, you decided to twist it around for good measure," he added.

She bit the inside of her cheek and lowered her eyes to the floor, "I am sorry Bastien," Sabine repeated.

"Yes, I know," he acknowledged, exhaling heavily. "And I forgive you," he informed. "I am sorry myself, I was harsh with you when it was not necessary. You were not acting like a spoiled brat," he apologized.

"Thank you for recognizing that,"

The two them stood in silence, every second feeling like an eternity. Finally, Sabine brought her eyes to his and and took his hands in both of hers.

"Is all well between us again?" she asked, her dark brown irises looking into his blue ones. "I do hope so now that we both apologized for our regrettable actions today,"

Bastien let out a rough sigh and shifted his eyes to the ceiling, "On one condition..." he trailed off.

"And that is?"

"You let me seal this with a kiss," he answered, staring back down at her with a faint grin.

She scrunched her nose up, "Ugh, maybe later," Sabine suggested, smiling a little.

"Why?" Bastien inquired, pulling her closer.

"Because my dear, you reek of alcohol," she replied bluntly. "And so does your breath," she commented, putting her hands on his chest to keep him at bay. "I'll draw you a bath and fill a glass of water for you-"

"I can do that all myself Sabine, I'm not that drunk," he cut in, his mouth curving upwards. "You go on and head to bed, I'll freshen up. And maybe I'll get that kiss,"

Sabine chuckled, "For now, I can only give you this," she said, before slipping her hand from his and pressing two of her fingers onto her lips and then onto Bastien's.

Gently, he wrapped his hand around hers and kept it there.

~~~x~~~

Sabine was half-asleep felt her mattress dip down beside her, a heavy, solid weight joining her on the bed and underneath the covers. Blinking to adjust to the darkness, she turned over to face Bastien.

"I didn't think you'd be joining me in bed," she said hoarsely.

Bastien slightly froze, "I didn't want to be alone tonight," he explained, his voice low. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to wake you," he apologized, settling underneath the blankets.

"Eh, never you mind," she yawned. "I meant to stay awake for a little longer, but my efforts failed," she explained, a sleepy smile on her lips.

Sabine could feel the bed shift as Bastien fumbled about for a moment or two before he found the oil lamp on her nightstand. She blinked a few times, her eyes once again adjusting and she saw the face of Bastien, who is looking at her with a wry smile on his face. Sabine shifted on the bed so that she laid on her side, her elbow on her pillow and her cheek in the palm of her hand.

"You smell better," she commented plainly, and Bastien let out a hearty chuckle.

"Good enough for that kiss that was promised to me?" he asked curiously, grinning at her.

"I suppose so,"

Sabine leaned forward and pecked him on the lips.

"I said a kiss, not a peck," Bastien reminded, wrapping her into his arms and pulling her onto his chest.

A small giggle escaped from her as she reached her hand out, cupping his cheek. Briefly, the two immortals just gazed at each other in silence, content with the other's presence. She dipped her head slowly before brushing her lips over his, indulging in the softness of them. Bastien inhaled deeply through his nose, letting his hand caress the small of her back. Sabine went to pull back, but didn’t get far as Bastien sought her lips in a slower and lingering kiss. A soft hum left Sabine just as they parted for air, their chests heaving.

Reopening her eyes, she leaned down again and kissed the corners of his mouth before pulling away once more. Bastien's warm breath mingled with hers as she stroked her thumb back and forth across his cheek.

"Are you alright?" Sabine asked, searching his eyes.

"I am better now," Bastien answered, his hand coming to a stop on her waist. "Today...today was rough," he stated. "For the both of us," he added.

"I know," she agreed, with a sigh and laying her head on his chest.

Sabine could feel the slow rising and falling of Bastien's chest beneath her head.

"I sometimes forget just how sharp your tongue can be," he commented, his voice sending a low rumble that reverberated through her body. "I don't think I've been on the receiving end of one of your lashings before, at least, not in a very long time," he noted, and Sabine planted a kiss on his night shirt covered chest.

"Bastien," she called quietly, reaching her free hand out to interlock their fingers.

"Yes?"

"Promise me something,"

"Anything,"

"Promise me, that we won't go to bed mad at each other," Sabine said, nestling her face into the crook of Bastien’s neck. "I don't know if I could bear it, us going to bed in anger, and then waking up again the next morning with unresolved, bitter feelings still clouding over us," she explained, her voice barely above a whisper.

"I promise,"

Chapter Fourteen: Welcome Home, Sabine Freemen

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lov3nerdstuff · 3 years

Text

Voluptas Noctis Aeternae {Part 7.8}

*Severus Snape x OC*

Summary: It is the year 1983 when the ordinary life of Robin Mitchell takes a drastic turn: she is accepted into Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Despite the struggles of being a muggle-born in Slytherin, she soon discovers her passion for Potions, and even manages the impossible: gaining the favor of Severus Snape. Throughout the years, Robin finds that the not quite so ordinary Potions Professor goes from being a brooding stranger to being more than she had ever deemed possible. An ally, a mentor, a friend... and eventually, the person she loves the most. Through adventure, prophecies and the little struggles of daily life in a castle full of mysteries, Robin chooses a path for herself, an unlikely friendship blossoms into something more, and two people abandoned by the world can finally find a home.

General warnings: professor x student, blood, violence, trauma, neglectful families, bullying, cursing

Words: 1.3k

Read Part 1.1 here! All Parts can be found on the Masterlist!

______________________________

A glimpse into the seventh week of travels (or the second week of August):

After the Spanish heat a week ago, it honestly shouldn't have come as a surprise to Robin that Greece at this time of year would be no better. Indeed, it proved to be even worse in terms of both the scorching sun and also the tourists it attracted. The islands obviously were a preferred destination for tourists from all parts of the world, but Robin hadn't known just how many people were willing to squeeze themselves onto a tiny speckle of sand merely because the water was supposed to be the bluest there. Neither could she understand what some people liked about lying in the sun all day, which was exactly what the majority of people were doing here. Undoubtedly, this made their mission a whole lot more difficult, as literally every place Robin and Snape went to was already crowded with muggles. After checking the seventh and final location –Robin had researched multiple options to search for today's object of study in advance– only to find it littered with people as well, she honestly had enough of humanity for crossing her plans like that.

"Why the hell are there people everywhere?!" She groaned under her breath, trying to keep her voice down as she looked at Snape in sheer frustration. They were sitting in the soft sand of a small beach in the most secluded bay imaginable, shielded by rocks and reefs and cliffs, and yet they were surrounded by a crowd of vacationers. "How are we supposed to do the thing here?!"

"As it seems, there is little to no possibility to follow through with the plan. The means to prove your theory rely on 'the thing', as you so eloquently called it, and I currently see no way around it." He replied in equal annoyance about the people screeching and laughing and running all around them, but at least he understood the problem Robin saw here. With a group of muggles around, it was practically impossible to go through with the spells she had come up with to acquire the clam-like thing they were here about in the first place. Not without some serious consequences at least. They were huge creatures, these clams, and that usually meant high efforts as well as lots of unwanted attention.

"I didn't come all the way to Greece just to be stopped by bloody tourists now!" Robin protested, even though there was little use in it. It wasn't Snape's fault after all, nor was there anything he could change about their unfortunate situation. "We've never let anything or anyone stop us before…"

"There is a first time for everything."

"Nope, I'm not having it. I'll get this stupid thing, with or without magic." She said, and in the utmost determination to see this through indeed, she got up from where she'd been sitting in the sand. There always was more than one way to do something, and if the easiest one didn't work, she would have to get her hands dirty after all.

"What, pray tell, are you doing?" Snape asked, sounding slightly alarmed as he looked up at Robin with a frown while she halted in her movement to return the gaze.

Seeing him sitting there, dressed all in black as always, in such a contrast to the white sand beneath them… Robin just had to smile. He'd actually let her show him how to put his hair up indeed, the way Robin had done it with her own occasionally ever since the new year's ball, by twisting it into a bun and fixing it with a wand or pen. And good gods it did look way too good on him, which meant that Robin had to remind herself not to stare from time to time. Times like now. Her eyes snapped back to the edge of the water a few steps ahead in an instant.

"I'm doing what everyone's doing. Going for a swim." She sighed in defeat, then took off her sunglasses and put them down on her backpack.

"No, you're not."

"Yes I am."

"Not if you're planning to do what I think you're planning to do."

"And what do you think I plan to do?"

"Diving down the part of the cliff that is underwater to find the clams yourself, then try to detach one from the wall somehow and bring it back to shore." He stated in obvious disdain for the idea, which only served to amuse Robin, even as he spoke on. "I will not let you do such a stupid and dangerous thing. The current would undoubtedly throw you against the ragged stone, especially underwater, and trying to separate one of the clams' shells from the wall also is nigh impossible without the… method you had originally planned."

"That's why I'm not doing that." Robin shrugged almost easily. Almost. "I mean yes, I will still need to dive down the wall of the cliff, but I'm not separating the shell from the wall. All we need is a few of the leaves that grow inside the clam, and I think I can get it to open up while it's still alive. Then I can take out the leaves underwater and leave the shell where it is."

"You clearly must be joking." He scoffed and finally got up to his feet as well, leaving him to look down at Robin once more with that ineffably intense expression. "You were the one who told me just this morning that this… creature can literally bite your hand off when it isn't stupefied before the leaves are taken out! And the dangers of nature alone you obviously disregard entirely."

"Well yeah, I will just have to be careful then." She argued back, but her words lacked the conviction she'd still had moments before. Perhaps it really wasn't the best idea. Both, the strong currents that far outside of the bay and the clams themselves were a serious risk, especially in combination. A risk that, if she really thought about it, wasn't necessary. Her pride wasn't worth risking her life for.

"Don't do this, Robin. Please. Think about it, at least."

"I just-... No. You're right. I won't do it, it was a stupid idea." Robin replied quietly, and she couldn't help averting her eyes for a moment. It really had been a beyond thoughtless idea to dive down the cliffside; there was a reason why she had come up with a theory and a strategy to avoid having to take those risks after all. Gods, she felt stupid now. "I was just being an idiot."

"You would have been an idiot had you gone through with it despite better judgement. Admitting that an idea is too dangerous to be executed however has absolutely nothing idiotic to it."

"I could've done it though, you know…" Robin said after a moment of silence, as she put her sunglasses back on against the insufferable brightness of the beach. "It would have been unreasonably dangerous, but I could have gotten those leaves."

"I know." He replied calmly, and picked up Robin's backpack before she could. "But instead of risking lives and limbs right now, we could also find a quiet place in the shadows and wait until dusk to return here in the hopes that the people will be gone once night falls."

"You would seriously suffer through this heat for five more hours just so I can be stubborn and prove my theory after all?"

"Obviously."

"How about some old-fashioned sightseeing?"

"Don't push it."

"I would never." A pause. A smirk. "We could send Dumbledore a postcard."

"Now you are just being sarcastic."

______________________________

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livingmybestfictionallife · 7 years

Text

Proximity (10)-Boo at the Zoo Pt.2

Prompt: Sebastian meets his newest neighbor and immediately finds her to be an interesting and genuine person. Before he knows it, he’s developing feelings for his much younger friend that he tries not to act on because of their age difference, only the proximity of their lives has other things in store for the couple.

A/N: So this central plot has changed a bit, but the story will stay the same--Reader and Seb trying to make things work despite the challenges thrown at them. ALSO, I actually have a Hawkette fanfiction that’s hinted in this story (if ya’ll are interested, I can update it on here, if you’re interested in that kind of thing)

Warnings: i can’t remember XD maybe language

Tags: @yourgayonlinemom, @broken-pieces, @bubblyanarocks3, @metal-arm-red-star, @yessy2012, @sebstanwassup, @bucky-bear-barnes, @starkxpotts, @kyleannsmut, @dammnnbucky, @crystallimythium, @harleenquinzzel, @camillechan, @marvelouslyloki, @msdrmarvel, @jesuistresjolie, @castielskitten, @ilovethings-somuch, @boyzines, @thelamegatsby, @huntressxtimelady, @left-boob-chris, @champssole-blog, @ruefulposts, @licoricelace, @pleasantbucky, @jjlevin, @anniemadeofclay, @-tulipsunflower-, @shakzer00, @one-of-the-boys, @come-and-figure-me-out, @miraisnotavailable, @ladymelissastark, @seargantbcky, @ballerinafairyprincess, @mydragulesebastian, @magsimovna, @the-amaranthine, @tomxhotland, @mummastace, @starmoras-walkman, @stacieisaloser, @can-a-girlsie-chime-in, @gallxntdean, @mackenziesgalaxy

“Tom, get down!” (Y/N) and Elizabeth yelled while the rest of the group urged the youngest member of their party to leap onto the fence post running along a small train track.

“Quit being moms,” Anthony slurred. “Tom’s doing something cool for once.”

“He’s going to fall,” Chris stated in a matter of fact tone.

“Thank you, Chris, for having some sense,” Elizabeth said while turning her attention to The Star-Spangled Man with a Plan.

“No, I mean he’s literally about to fall,” Chris said while pointing at Tom who tried to stand up and was wobbling on the post.

“Uh, guys?” he called out while everyone turned toward him. Being closest to the fence, (Y/N) hurried forward and grasped Tom by the forearm, steadying him while he tripped back over the fence and, like a cat, flailed mid-air before landing on his feet.

“That’s it, no more perching for Spider-Man,” Elizabeth scolded as Tom leaned back against the fence and tore his mask from his head for the first time that evening. The group had already been approached by a few fans before--some were sober enough to realize they were the actual Avengers while others were too drunk to see past the rag tag costumes.

“Fair call,” Tom muttered. Once he caught his breath, a couple of girls who had spotted him without his mask hurried over and tapped him on the shoulder. Of everyone, only Tom, Elizabeth, and (Y/N) were the most easily recognizable, but since no one knew who (Y/N) was, Tom and Elizabeth received the most attention from by-passers when unmasked.

“T-Tom Holland?” one of the girls asked him.

“Hi,” he smiled as the group started to disband and allow Tom time to take photos with his fans.

“Hawkette! Wait!” Immediately, (Y/N) turned around and faced the girls then pointed to herself. Upon doing so, the girls waved, asking her to come over. (Y/N) looked to Sebastian for reassurance as her face flushed of color.

“Go on,” he said with a smirk and prideful smile while giving her a little nudge.

“Can we have a picture of the two of you?” they asked.

“Don’t you want to be in it?” Tom asked in confusion.

“Yes, but first we want one of just you two,” the older of the two young women said.

“Um, okay?” Tom said with confusion while (Y/N) bit anxiously at her lip.

“Come on, Peter, put your arm around her,” the younger of the two urged. Tom obeyed and slipped his arm along (Y/N)’s waist and smiled while (Y/N) made a face that appeared to be fed up with ‘Peter’s’ antics, which made the girls laugh. “Perfect!” they smiled in reference to her facial expression.

“Can I ask what this is about?” Tom asked the two girls before they initiated a selfie with him and (Y/N).

“It’s a fanfiction thing,” one of the girls said with a blush.

“It’s called Hawkette so when we saw you two in costume, we were going to get a photo but then we realized you were you,” the other explained after snapping a few selfies with the pair, thanking them for their time, and then running off yelling ‘it’s canon’ at one another excitedly. Slowly, the rest of the group approached the (Y/N) and Tom with confused expressions.

“You better watch out, Sebastian, someone’s trying to steal your girl,” Anthony teased.

“What was that all about?” Chris asked.

“I guess you’re much more famous than you thought,” Sebastian teased (Y/N), causing her face to turn red and her lips to purse up at him, begging him to shut his mouth before he said anything more.

“What are you talking about?” Tom asked as (Y/N) shrunk back toward Elizabeth.

“Sebastian, don’t-”

“(Y/N) wrote fanfiction,” Sebastian cut off (Y/N) and said with a mix of pride and laughter in his voice.

“Will you shut up?” (Y/N) groaned.

“No way!” Anthony cackled loudly. “I’ve gotta see it!”

“What, is that what those girls were talking about?” Tom asked while turning his attention toward (Y/N). She groaned at Sebastian and huffed.

“I thought you loved me,” she teased him with a pout.

“I do,” Sebastian said while taking her in his arms in front of everyone. “I’m just also very proud of you.”

“You’ve never read it!” she protested.

“It has to be good for people to just know about it,” he said reassuringly while the rest of the group continued to pester her.

“What were those girls talking about?”

“Do you write sexy-time stuff?”

“Hold on, I’m looking it up!”

“Have you written about me?” (Y/N) shoved lightly against Sebastian’s chest and groaned as the other guys went back and forth with one another while Elizabeth stood silently with a subtle smirk on her lips.

“Fine, I wrote a Marvel character into the MCU and it got some recognition on a few of websites,” she explained. “It’s not a big deal. I just took Kate Bishop’s storyline, put her in Civil War and Homecoming, altered bits of Peter’s story into her background and made it all fit together without loose ends.”

“I found it!” Tom shouted. Immediately, everyone’s phones went off, signaling a message in the group chat.

“Yes!” Anthony cheered as Tom’s link to the story came through.

“No,” (Y/N) sighed while putting her face into her hands and feeling how hot her skin was turning. “Please,” she begged.

“Katherine Bishop was the youngest daughter of Derek and Eleanor Bishop. After her mother's death she isolated herself and became a very lonely child. At a young age she witnessed her father brutally assaulting a business partner in his home office and further detached herself from her family, becoming stubborn, self-reliant, and distrusting of others,” Tom read out loud.

“The summer between junior high and high school she was sexually harassed and attacked in Central Park. Only one man stood up to the attacker, sacrificing his life to save the girl’s,” Anthony continued.

“Katherine hurried toward the dying man to be intercepted by Clint Barton, known to the world as former Avenger, Hawkeye. She immediately recognized him and, overwhelmed with grief and guilt, demanded he train her to defend herself,” Chris read.

“Since she had distanced herself from her father, Clint became a role model for her. He taught her a variety of martial arts techniques, trained her in hand to hand combat, and strengthened her already existing abilities as an archer to the point where she was on par with him. After Clint's "retirement" due to the Accords, and in opposition to and influx of recognition of a vigilante in her neighborhood called Spider-Man, Katherine's adventure as a hero begins,” Sebastian stated.

“Will she be able to live up to her namesake? Will Spider-Man pose a bigger problem to her ability to do her job? Will the Accords affect her in any way? ...What do you think?” Tom finished the intro (Y/N) remembered writing nearly a year and a half ago. “Fuck, now I want to read it,” Tom muttered to himself.

“It is really good, (Y/N),” Elizabeth said softly.

“You let Lizzie read it and not me?” Sebastian complained with a pout.

“I found it online one day,” Elizabeth explained. “I read everything that you have posted for that story and have been waiting for you to pick it back up,” Elizabeth stated with a sly smirk on her face.

“I’m going to find the scariest haunted house here and lock myself inside because it can’t possibly be worse than the nightmare I’m living,” (Y/N) grumbled.

“I always thought your dramatic nature came from spending so much time around Sebastian, but it turns out, that was all you,” Anthony laughed.

“I hate all of you,” (Y/N) grumbled with a laugh as she started walking towards the reptile exhibit and the adjacent haunted house.

“Come on, (Y/N),” Sebastian yelled after her while shoving his phone into is pocket and chasing after her. He grabbed her waist and pulled her back to the group with a smile on his face. “We’re just teasing you because we all love you.”

“You have nothing to be embarrassed about,” Chris admitted to her with a gentle smile that spread to the crocheted wings poking out over his ears.

“Yeah, if Tom can dress up in Spider-Man costumes until he’s twenty and not be ashamed, you’ve got nothing to worry about,” Anthony said.

“We won’t read it if you’re uncomfortable with it,” Sebastian said while rubbing his hand along her back. After contemplating everything she’s written, (Y/N) sighed and realized there wasn’t anything in the story that would cause her extreme embarrassment...yet.

“I don’t know why you’d want to read it, but I don’t care if you do,” she finally admitted.

“Good, because I’m on chapter two,” Tom announced as he stared at his phone screen.

Continued Installments

#proximity #sebastian stan #sebastian stan fanfiction #sebastian x reader #seb stan #seb stan fanfiction #seb stan fanfic

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