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ilalos · 3 years

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Worth it (Anthony Bridgerton x reader) Part 2/2

Summary: Your arranged marriage to Anthony seems fine, until it doesn’t.

Warnings: marriage, implied sex, angst-ish, fluff, pregnancy, crying, if you notice anything else let me know :)

Word count: 2.5k

The season passed in a blur with countless flowers and conversations that filled you with expectations about your marriage to the Viscount, you truly felt like love was around the corner for both of you and it was a matter of time for that corner to be turned. He was everything you had expected and more, you could tell he was wary about letting you in but didn’t want to push him so you let him open himself to you at his own pace. The had been some stolen looks, kisses on your knuckles that had lasted a little longer than they should and hand a bit lower than what was acceptable when you danced. To say the courting had been successful was the understatement of the season in your opinion, by the time the wedding day came you were counting down the minutes before you finally became Lady (y/n) Bridgeton.

Your wedding ceremony was short and the carriage ride to Anthony’s bachelor townhouse was even shorter. The wedding night had come with a surprisingly low amount of events, your virginity had been taken the sweetest of ways, with many kisses and whispered promises of pleasure that came true. By the end of the day, you were as happy as can be, laying on your husband's chest, feeling his heartbeat slowing down and smelling the sweet vanilla scent of his skin.

When you woke up the next morning the bed was empty and he had already left to work in his study back in the main Bridgerton home. He didn’t return until late in the evening and you were waiting for him so you could have dinner together.

“Thank you for waiting for me,” he said while taking a sip of his wine.

“It’s nothing, I like that we are finally spending some time together”

Anthony just nodded and continued eating in silence.

“How was your day?” You pushed for conversation, you had been alone all day and could really use some conversation with someone different than your maid, who was terrified of speaking freely.

“It was busy” he answered simply “how was your day?” He asked after seeing the face you made at his short answer.

“It was also very busy, I reorganized the books in the library, had the kitchen staff do an inventory on the pantry, and send the maids to the market to get some flowers for the table tops” you narrated proudly, hoping he might appreciate the way you ran the home.

“Good to see you’re settling in, darling” his small praise made you smile a little.

“You don’t mind that I changed some things?” You asked somewhat concerned by his silence.

“It is your home, you’re free to do whatever you please with it,” he said dismissively.

“It’s our home, Anthony, I want to make it perfect for you too”

After dinner, he walked you to the bedroom and after a couple of heated kisses you fell in his arms once again, the pleasure he gave you was addictive. Despite his cold attitude towards you in other aspects of your life, it was in the bedroom where you felt hopeful for a future where you both might learn to truly love each other, and then he would sneak out every morning making you feel like a worthless whore.

And so your days continued like this, every night was filled with passion and every day was lonely. You couldn’t even go to the Bridgerton home, you had been taught that a married lady was not to go out without her husband, so your heart slowly filled with sadness as you spent day after day alone in the townhouse. Anthony was none the wiser because he simply thought you enjoyed being by yourself, so it never occurred to him to invite you to his family’s home or anywhere else.

A month into your marriage you found out you were with child. You were extremely happy and Anthony had shown himself to be happy as well, but then that night he didn’t come home for dinner and didn’t make an appearance in your bedroom. He was more and more distant until four months had passed and he disappeared for two full weeks before you saw him again.

It was on the day of your birthday, and he had only gone to your room because the butler told him you had been very sick that day. When he entered the room he found you seating on the bed hugging your knees close to your chest, your eyes puffy from crying and silent tears still streaming down your face. You weren’t upset he had forgotten your birthday, you had never celebrated it so it didn’t matter he didn’t remember it.

“What happened? Is everything well? Is the baby-“

“Your child is quite well, Lord Bridgerton” you interrupted in the coldest tone he had ever heard from you “to what do I owe this joyous visit?”

“I apologize for my absence, I have been very busy” he answered measly.

“I figured out that much, husband” the word was said with venom.

“Are you upset with me?” He asked offended, you had never treated him so coldly.

“I am upset with myself” you started with a pained chuckle “I don’t need you to try and comfort me because you did nothing wrong, that is the reason for my anger” a small sob escaped your lips “I was taught to be a good wife, that my only job was to give my husband heirs and to keep the house running and I understood that and I didn’t fight it because at least I would have children to fill my life with love and a husband who at the very least would acknowledge me and my efforts”

“I-“

“I don’t want you to feel like you should change or apologize, this is not your fault, I feel miserable because I filled my heart with hopes and dreams of love but that’s just not how life is, at least not mine” you harshly wiped your eyes before finishing “I understand my place now, I’m nothing but a child-bearer for you and that’s fine because you didn’t even pick me in the first place” you got up from bed and opened the door for him “please leave me alone, I will be fine”

“I can’t just leave you here alone, have you even eaten today? In your condition-“

“Your child is perfectly well, my lord” your tone had turned icy once again “please go, I am tired and want to rest”

Unable to do anything else, Anthony left the room and went back to his family’s home. His mother had insisted for him to take you there that night, but seeing your state he didn’t even bother asking if you wanted to go. When he got there he was surprised to see the dining room fully decorated, his whole family dressed in their best clothes, even Daphne and Simon had paid a visit.

“Where is (y/n)?” Asked Violet.

“She’s not feeling very well” answered Anthony looking at the table that was filled with all his wife’s favorite food “What is happening? Why are you all here dressed as if you are attending a ball?”

“Anthony, please for the love of God almighty, tell me you didn’t forget your wife’s birthday!” Violet couldn’t keep his composure, how could Anthony be so clueless.

“I-I’ve been so busy lately supervising the building of the new house, it didn’t even occur to me that it was her birthday” Anthony felt terrible, as he should.

“It’s bad enough she doesn’t like us, son” Violet sighed, seating on the table “And now she thinks we don’t care for her birthday”

“Where did you get that idea, mother?” Daphne couldn’t help but ask “When she writes to us she says wonderful things about our family”

“Then why hasn’t she visited since the wedding?” This time it was Colin asking “Mother sent a tea invitation shortly after they got married and she never showed up, sent a poor letter apologizing but did not explain why she didn’t show”

“I might have an explanation for that” Simon spoke up “My aunt was a terribly strict mother, taught her that a wife was nothing more than a child-bearer and had no liberties like men do, for example: going out unaccompanied”

“Has she been out of the house since you married, brother?” asked Eloise, turning to face Anthony who was still frozen at the doorstep.

“I don’t believe so” he entered the room and sat defeated “I just thought she enjoyed being at home by herself, god!” he rubbed his hands down his face.

“I can’t believe it, the poor thing” lamented Violet.

“She hasn’t left the house in almost half a year” concluded Benedict.

“And here we were, refusing to visit thinking she had rejected mother,” said Colin.

“I would like to clarify, I never agreed with losing contact with her over one missed invitation” added Eloise, gaining the glares of everyone present.

“It matters not what we thought nor does it matter what has happened in the past” began Violet “right now I want you to go pick her up and bring her here, she deserves to be celebrated, especially after everything we put her through,” she told her eldest child, pushing him to stand and go to the door.

Anthony mounted the carriage and urged the coachman to hurry home and as soon as he got there he ran up the stairs to your room and burst through the door, jolting you awake.

“I am so sorry, love,” ha said kneeling on your bedside “I never knew you didn’t leave the house because you thought you couldn’t, you are free to do as you please, darling” he grabbed your hand and kissed your knuckles “I didn’t mean to make you feel trapped in your own home, and I am sorry if you felt like I abandoned you” he caressed your face and wiped some tears that had fallen without your notice.

“You did abandon us,” you said, trying to pull your hand from his grasp with your other hand protecting your belly.

“I was merely supervising the building of our new home, I was hoping I could surprise you before the baby arrived” he explained, now seating by your side “I can’t possibly ask my family to leave their home but I know how much you love that house, and so I chose to build a similar one not too far from here”

“You are building me a house?” You asked incredulously, hardly anything could justify his absence but this was in fact a reasonable explanation.

“Yes, love” he once again caressed your face “A home for our family” at that your eyes filled with tears, this time from happiness.

You sat up and wrapped your arms around his neck, crying with your face buried in his shirt. He wrapped his arms around you, kissing the top of your head and shushing you softly to calm down your cries. You spent a while holding each other until he suddenly broke you two apart, remembering his family that was still waiting for you both to show up.

“My beautiful wife, I must take you out of the comforts of your bed” he began, apologetic “My family is expecting you in their home to celebrate your birthday with a lavish dinner”

“Heavens! You should’ve started with that” you ran to your door and called out for your maid “I don’t think I have a dress for such occasion, non that would fit me now, that’s certain”

You opened your trunk and began taking out your chemise and all other items you had to wear under your dress in such cold weather. You took off your nightgown not caring Anthony was there, he had seen it all before, after you had put on your chemise your maid ran in and help you put on the rest of your garments and helped you squeeze your small baby bump in the dress you had worn for one of the first balls you attended when Anthony was courting you. She put your hair in a quick updo and even managed to coerce Anthony into putting on your stockings and your shoes while she did your hair. With all that rush and hard work, you managed to be ready in under an hour and still made it to the dinner at a reasonable hour (half past 9 is reasonable, right?).

At the Bridgerton home, you were welcomed with warm embraces and merry wishes on your special day. You all sat around the table and ate the feast that had sadly grown cold. Colin didn’t seem to mind as he devoured everything in sight, prompting Violet to chastise him softly. You, however, ate small bites because the pregnancy had caused your stomach to be upset easily and you didn’t wish to offend anyone by running out of the room to empty your stomach. Anthony watched you eat and held your hand atop the table, smiling as he watched you laugh and converse with his family.

“Is the food not good enough?” Asked Violet seeing your plate almost full.

“It is just perfect, my stomach has just been iffy since the start of the pregnancy” you answered smiling apologetically, Anthony choked on his wine because he realized at that very moment that he had forgotten to tell his family about your condition.

“You’re with child? Those are wonderful news!” Exclaimed Violet with a large smile “When did you found out?”

“Four months ago” you turned to glare at Anthony “I assumed your son had told you”

“How could you conceal such joyous information from your mother?” Violet then noticed her eldest daughter had become quiet, as well as her husband “Did you know, Daphne?”

“I was aware of it, yes” Daphne admitted ashamed “I too assumed Anthony had told you”

“You assumed my eldest son had told me about his wife’s pregnancy and I had decided not to mention any of it in our letters?”

“I-I’m, yes?” Benedict and Colin snorted with laughter hearing their sister’s answer.

Violet only shook her head with a small smile, her children were truly a wonder. Anthony was nervous that you’d get mad at him for not telling them, but one look at your laughing face told him he didn’t need to worry.

Later that evening you both laid in bed after yet another passion-filled encounter, your breathing slow and even making Anthony think you were asleep. He was caressing your naked back with feather-like touches, kissing your sweaty forehead every few minutes.

“I love you” you sighed, kissing his chest “You need not feel the same, I just want you to know how I feel”

He took a shaky breath before answering.

“I also am in love with you, darling” he placed a finger under your chin and tilted your head so you’d look at him “sometimes I’m scared of just how much I love you” he kissed you slow and deep, pouring all his love into the action.

The kiss was unlike any other you had shared before, this one was full of promise and hope. It filled you with love and certainty, you were now sure that no matter how difficult the road to Anthony’s heart had been, even if you didn’t want it at first, it had all been worth it.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Hi! Thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed it. If you like it let me know.

Tag list:

@alaizaaa02

@awesomebooklover17

#anthony bridgerton #anthony bridgerton imagine #anthony bridgerton x reader #anthony bridgerton x you #my writing #bridgerton imagine #bridgerton

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youbloodymadgenius · 3 years

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Scars and Trophies (Ivar x OC his and reader's daughter - Ivar x reader)

A/N: This is my contribution to @ofmanderley's 300 Celebration 🎉 Congrats again, darling 🌸

I won't lie, it's a sad one, including a major character death. Yet, it's a somehow logical and - I think - sweet death. I wouldn't go so far as to say it's fluff, but it's not angst either. Give it a chance 🙏🏽

Prompt in bold

Fa∂ir = Father / Mó∂ir = Mother / Min blóm = My flower

@geekandbooknerd, thank you for being a lovely and very supportive beta 💖

Let me know if you want to be tagged 😊

Divider by @firefly-graphics

Summary: Ivar was injured in battle. His daughter comes to his bedside.

Warnings: major character death; glimpse of an afterlife that does not seem very Viking.

Words: 1474

His eyes flutter open as she grabs a wooden stool and sits next to his bed. Wrapping her hand around his calloused one, she leans forward, gently kissing his clammy forehead.

"Min blóm..." He murmurs. She can tell he tries to smile, and it breaks her heart.

"Fa∂ir, are you in pain?" Her hand squeezing his, she feels how hot his skin is. Abnormally hot.

"Not much..." He manages to say, his shallow breathing betraying his discomfort. As a single tear runs down her cheek, he tries to release his hand. He wants to reach out, to wipe her tears. He's too weak, though. "Don't cry, min blóm. I don't." He stifles a wince but manages this time to give her a real smile.

"It won't be long before your mother and I are reunited."

He's right, she knows it. She's been warned, her father is dying. There's nothing more the healers can do. Her hand lingers on his bandaged chest as she silently curses the Saxon soldier who stabbed him.

"I know," she brushes his hair back, holding back her tears, "you've been waiting for this for so long." Nodding wearily, her father closes his eyes while releasing a weak sigh.

She closes her eyes too. A thought weighs heavily on her mind and she knows she's running out of time. If she doesn't ask him now, she may never get the chance again. It's been eating her up inside for so long... She wants to know; she needs to.

She takes a deep breath and then cups his cheek softly. "Fa∂ir, I meant to ask you... Did you resent me? Has there ever been a time in your life when you were angry at me for taking Mó∂ir's life? She died while giving birth to me, and she was the woman you were in love with. Wouldn't you have preferred her to survive instead of me? Don't get me wrong, Fa∂ir, I'm not blaming you, you've always been good to me. I just wonder, sometimes. Ultimately, I'm the one who killed her."

Her father remains silent for so long that she thinks he may have fallen asleep. But then he shakes his head and starts to speak. She has to listen very carefully, his whispered words hard to hear. "You didn't kill her. Your mother died because it was fate; because it was the will of the gods, min blóm. Do you remember what she always said about scars?"

She nods even if he can't see it. She does remember. "Scars are trophies."

Overwhelmed by mixed feelings, he looks at you with pursed lips as you lovingly stroke his calves while humming a song he doesn't know. "I love your legs, you know that?" You eventually say, a sweet smile crossing your face.

He doesn't know what to say, so he doesn't utter a word for a very long time. Frowning, he finally grabs your wrist. "You don't have to say that, my love, you really don't. I know how they look. They are hideous; full of scars."

You give him a disapproving look, shaking your head. "Well, I beg to differ. They're not hideous. They're something to be proud of. Scars are trophies, Ivar."

Eyeing you, Ivar forces a laugh, his lips curling with a bitter smile. "When they are earned on the battlefield, there's no disputing that. But those..." He gestures towards his scarred legs, spitting his next words, "... those are nothing to be proud of. If anything, my legs are proof that I am a failure."

"Ivar!" You nearly shout, upset. "You're not allowed to run yourself down like this!! Of course, your scars are trophies, it's not my fault you're just too stupid to realize it!"

He can't help but laugh at that. You're the only one on Midgard who dares to talk to him like that and he won't tell it aloud but he loves that. The next moment though, a scowl is back on his face.

Breathing out a sigh, you wrap your fingers around his hand. "Ivar, my stubborn husband, listen carefully. Life was – still is – your battlefield. When you were growing up, the people of Kattegat, and even your own brothers sometimes, were your opponents. Every broken bone, when you were just a boy, was one more fight for you to win and you won them all. As for the excruciating pain you're going through every single day, it is your endless war, Ivar, a war you fight with bravery. The cards you've been dealt weren't good ones, yet you survived. And the gods know you did more than just survive. You made a name for yourself. You led men into battle. You conquered. Don't you dare tell me I'm wrong. And therefore, of course, my beloved, your scars are trophies."

"Your mother was referring to my legs, obviously." Mustering the last of his strength and gritting his teeth, Ivar opens his eyes and slowly raises his hand, his thumb grazing her cheek. "Her death shattered my heart and caused my deepest scar, which is still bleeding at this very moment. But this scar, min blóm, is also my greatest trophy." Eyes full of tears, he lets out a groan of pain, placing instinctively his hand on his wounded torso.

Long seconds tick by, and after releasing a shuddering breath, he speaks again. "My greatest trophy because I survived. And I did more than just survive. I was lucky enough to see you grow up. On my watch, you became a beautiful, fierce, and caring woman. You made me proud, and happy. You have filled my heart with joy, min blóm."

His bloodshot, tired, faded gaze find hers as he slightly shakes his head. "No, min blóm, I didn't. I never resented you. I love you with all my heart and if I could go back, I wouldn't change a thing despite the tremendous sorrow I felt – and sometimes still feel – losing her. Your mother was undoubtedly the love of my life, you know that. But you, min blóm, were – still are – its light. And that's why," his grimace of pain rips her heart out, "if the gods give me strength, I'll stay with you a little longer..."

The tears. She feels them coming, salty little waves, tender little raindrops. Her bottom lip trembling, she just shakes her head. "No, Fa∂ir. I want you to stop fighting. Go to Mó∂ir. I had you to myself all these years. It's her turn now."

His features bathed in tears, her father hiccups, his eyes suddenly wide open, his hand squeezing hers with a strength he has not shown for days. "No, min blóm," even his voice is stronger but she knows it won't last, "I can't. I won't leave you. You need–"

"No." She interrupts, plastering on a smile, "I'll be fine, Fa∂ir. Trust me, I'm going to be all right." Her hand strokes his hair, lingers on his flushed face. "Close your eyes, Fa∂ir, close your eyes. You can go, I'll be fine. Stop fighting and close your eyes, Fa∂ir."

Tears running freely down her cheeks, she watches her father very closely, and sees the exact moment when he complies. Taking a surprisingly deep breath, he nods and flutters his eyes shut.

She doesn't stop talking, though, her fingers now once again entwined with his. "I'll be fine, Fa∂ir. Go to Mó∂ir, feel free, she's waiting for you... Go, Fa∂ir, go, I'll be fine... Soon, you will no longer be in pain and you will be with her, the love of your life, and I'll be fine, Fa∂ir... Go, Fa∂ir, go to Mó∂ir, go to her... go... go..."

Lulled by her soothing voice, his breathing slows down. "You can go, Fa∂ir, I'll be fine... Go to Mó∂ir, she's waiting for you... Go, Fa∂ir, go... You're free now... Go... Go..."

His pain is dulled, the voice of his blóm barely a whisper... "Go, Fa∂ir, go... I'll be fine..."

He feels like he's floating. There's nothing but her voice, distant and far away... "Go... Go to Mó∂ir... Go, Fa∂ir..."

And he lets go. He doesn't fight anymore. She's right, she'll be fine. He can go. He wants to; he needs to. "Y/N", he croaks, but he knows that no word escapes from his lips.

He feels free. He's free. There's no regret, no remorse. There's no more pain, neither in his stabbed chest nor in his crooked legs.

Surprisingly, there are no Valkyries either, no battle cries, no shouts, no music... Really, there's nothing... Nothing until...

...

"Come, Ivar, come to me, come, my beloved... Come..."

Love and gratefulness immediately flooding his mind, he doesn't have time to be surprised as he loosens his grip on his daughter's hand and exhales one last time.

"Y/N, my love, I missed you so much..."

🛡⚔️🛡

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#ivar #ivar x reader #ivar the boneless #ivar ragnarsson #ivar the boneless x reader #ivar ragnarsson x reader #ivar fanfic #ivar fanfiction #ivar fic #ivar imagine #ivar vikings #vikings ivar #vikings imagine #ivar x oc #ofmanderley300

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bellafarella · 3 years

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Please have mercy on me

This is a short one shot following 11x08 so if you didn't watch it yet then avoid this until you do since there are spoilers in it!

Summary: Mickey can’t believe his eyes. Terry’s dead.

Notes: Hey everyone!

Just thought I'd write a short one shot to fill in a missing scene between when Ian and Mickey find Terry's dead body and then Ian going to the hospital, and what happened when they both were home at the end of it all.

I hope you like this 💖

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

Mickey can’t believe his eyes. Terry’s dead. His eyes instantly fill with tears as he looks at his father - a man who has abused him his entire life, a man who couldn’t put his own bigotry aside to love and accept him for who he is, a man who constantly tried to kill him for being who he is - with a plastic bag over his head, his eyes lifeless, his tongue sticking out slightly from his mouth. Mickey feels Ian’s hand touch his shoulder from behind him and the tears just fall from his eyes, sliding down his cheeks. He sniffles and Ian turns him around and wraps him into his arms. Mickey lets himself be embraced by the strong and comforting arms of his husband, letting the tears fall as he cries silently in the crook of Ian’s neck.

Ian’s hand moves up and down his back, soothing him as he holds him tight, whispering into his ear, “I’m here. I love you. We’ll get through this together,” over and over in the softest voice.

A ringing blares through the silence of the moment and Mickey tries to pull away. Ian doesn’t let him so Mickey says, “Ian, answer your phone.”

Ian lets Mickey go so that he can grab his phone from his pocket. “It’s Carl,” he says looking at the screen.

“Answer it,” Mickey nods, wiping away a tear from his eye as he turns back around to look at his lifeless father. He can barely register anything Ian’s saying on the phone to his brother after he answers the call with, “This isn’t a good time.” Mickey’s too caught up in his own mind as he continues to look at Terry. He’s wanted his father dead for - God, he can’t even remember how long. The first time he ever thought about his father dying was when he was only four and Terry beat the shit out of his mom. He wasn’t in the room but he could hear her wails and cries, her pleads for him to stop. He curled up in Mandy’s bed with her, holding her close as she cried in his arms. She was only two, and he was only four, and all he could think was please God, kill dad. From them on, everything just got worse. His mother died and Terry focused his abuse on him and Mandy instead. Mickey thought every day how he wished something would land on his head and kill him, or a deal would go bad and he’d get shot, or he’d get put away in prison for the rest of his life. Those thoughts intensified when Mickey realized he’s gay. He knew he could never let Terry find out or he would murder him. He lived years of his life afraid that his father would kill him. He pushed Ian away because of that fear. In the last few years, Terry has tried to make him miserable every step of the way and now that he finally got what was coming to him, Mickey has no idea what to feel. He feels relieved but he also feels devastated. He worked so hard to make sure Terry was being taken care of in his state even though he didn’t deserve it. Mickey vowed that he would be better than his father. He wanted to be a better man, a better husband, a better father one day. Hearing Terry tell him just hours ago that if Mickey wasn’t gay - that he wasn’t who he is - he would have been a decent son. Those words tore Mickey’s heart in half because all he’s ever wanted was to be loved and accepted, and he knew he would never get that, even if he wasn’t gay. Terry was a hateful, spiteful, evil man, and Mickey knows deep down that that would never have changed.

“Mick?” he hears Ian say before he touches his shoulder. Mickey turns around to look at his husband's face, his soft green eyes looking at him with so much love and compassion. “There was an incident at Liam’s school with Frank. Carl brought him to the hospital, everyone’s headed there now.”

“You should go,” Mickey says instantly.

“No, I’m going to stay with you-”

Mickey shakes his head, “No, you should go, be with your family.”

“You’re my family,” Ian tells him, his hand coming up to caress Mickey’s cheek, wiping away some more tears with his thumb.

Mickey smiles at him softly. “I know, but your siblings need you.”

“But-”

“I need to handle this,” he says, nodding his head back towards his fathers dead body behind them. “I’ll be okay, Gallagher. I’ll see you at home later.”

“Are you sure?” Ian asks, his eyes searching Mickey’s.

Mickey shrugs his shoulder, “Not really but we both have responsibilities to our fuckhead fathers so I’ll be fine.”

Ian nods, letting out a deep breath. He leans forward and kisses Mickey’s forehead softly before pressing his forehead against his, “I love you so much.”

“I love you too,” Mickey whispers back.

Ian pulls back to look at him, his hand still holding his face. “I’ll see you at home. Call me if you need anything. I’ll be quick, promise.”

“Okay.” And with that Ian rushes out the door to head to the hospital. Mickey takes a deep breath before turning back around to see Terry.

Sister Mary-Luke comes back into the house and she explains what happened. Terry was rude, vile, and just plain evil. He also begged her to be taken out of this life. “He was an evil man and did not deserve the patience and love you were giving him,” she tells him. “He begged for mercy and - well, this isn’t a life worth living, my child. It had to be done.”

Mickey nods, his eyes filling with tears again. He doesn’t blame her. Terry has been begging to die since his shooting. Mickey just never expected it to happen like this and definitely not today.

Mickey’s glad Ian took the ambulance so it makes it easier for him to call 911. Mickey removes the bag from Terry’s head and closes his eyes and mouth, propping him back up. The EMTs come and Mickey explains how he just arrived back to check in on his father and found him like this. He sent the nun home before they arrived, and he said that he thought his cousins were here watching him. They declared him dead and Mickey bit his tongue from saying no shit. They explained that they would bring his body to the mortuary and that Mickey can go by tomorrow to deal with his body and any plans he has for his funeral.

Mickey thanks them when they leave with his father’s dead body before walking back home. For the first time in a very long time, the house is empty. There’s no life, no sound, nothing that makes this house a home. Mickey trudges up the stairs and makes his way into his room. He strips down before going to take a hot shower. Thankfully there is still hot water and he uses it up as he lets himself cry and cry, letting the water wash away his tears.

He crawls into bed in his boxers and a black tank top, with his phone. He texts his idiot cousin who abandoned him today to tell him Terry’s dead. He also tries calling Mandy. She doesn’t pick up so he leaves her a quick voicemail, “Hey, it’s - uh, it’s Mick. Listen, Terry’s dead. Call me when you can.” He tosses his phone on the bedside table before pulling the covers over his head and praying he can fall asleep and forget this day happened.

Mickey wakes up to the feeling of someone curling up behind him. The covers are no longer consuming him so he turns around to see Ian in bed beside him, he’s in his boxers and a t-shirt too, his eyes so soft as he looks at him. “Hey,” he says, his voice horse.

“Hi,” Ian whispers back. “You okay?”

Mickey shrugs. “They took his body to the mortuary. I can go there to deal with it tomorrow.”

“We will go there to deal with it. I’m sorry, I didn’t stay with you,” Ian tells him.

Mickey reaches for his face, pulling him closer. “Don’t be,” he says before kissing Ian softly on the lips. Ian kisses him, his hand pulling him in by the waist. That’s as far as it goes before they just rest their foreheads together. “How’s Frank?”

“He has dementia from being a drunk,” Ian tells him with a sigh.

“Shit.”

“Yeah…”

After a few silent moments, Mickey asks, “Is Liam okay we missed his thing?”

Ian smiles softly which makes Mickey feel a bit better. “He understands. He won the iPad.”

“No shit,” Mickey chuckles. “Good for him.” Ian nods, his smile faltering slightly. “Hey,” Mickey says softly, his hand hooking under Ian’s chin so he looks at him, he has his own tears in his eyes. “Today has been a shitty fucking day,” he says. Ian snorts out a wet laugh before Mickey continues, “But we’ll get through it, together.”

“I should be telling you this,” Ian says, sadly.

“You did, now it’s my turn,” Mickey says softly, caressing his cheek. Even though Frank isn’t Ian’s biological father, he’s been the only father he’s ever had. Frank was a neglectful, alcoholic, junkie, asshole of a father but now that he’s slowly losing his mind, it’s going to be a lot for the Gallaghers to handle, especially his husband, and Mickey is going to be there for him just like he knows Ian will be there for him as he goes through all his feelings and all the planning of his father’s passing.

“I love you,” Ian says softly.

“I love you,” Mickey says back before curling up against Ian’s chest, feeling his arms wrapped around him again. The two of them both silently cry in each other’s arms, letting all the misery they’ve felt for years growing up with abusive fathers and all the sadness they feel over what has and is happening to them, just wash away as they comfort each other, knowing that even through all this pain, there will be light and happiness again, because they have each other, always.

#my fic #shameless 11x08 #shameless s11 #shameless spoilers #ian x mickey #gallavich #gallavich fanfiction #gallavich fic #gallavich fan fic #ian gallagher #mickey milkovich #also on ao3 #read on ao3 #ao3 fanfic #shameless us #gallavich spoilers #tw death

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fletchphoenix · 3 years

Text

Little Secret

Okay this is chapter 9 of the High School AU

PLEASE READ WITH CAUTION - TW for an attempt at s**c*de, s*lf h*arm and some other morbid shit. please don’t read / skip over the italics if you aren’t comfortable reading about those topics. Please. This is more of a vent piece as well but please be careful.

I love you all so so much.

As Hugo left, Varian let himself lay back on his bed and let out a huff. Wincing at the constricting feeling in his chest, he changed into his pyjamas and laid back in bed. Ruddiger, ever the saint, sat beside his head and let out gentle noises to soothe him, nuzzling his cheek against the boy’s as he calmed him enough to settle into a deep sleep.

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

Teardrops dripped from his eyes and onto his phone as his breath shook with each inhale and exhale he took. Blue light from the screen stung the already teary eyes, the hurtful words that looked back at him instead of his reflection on the screen made the suffering even worse. His throat burned as he swallowed down acidic bile and his shoulders shook. Still, he couldn’t take his eyes away as the shock of the situation finally set in and his hand flew to his stomach, his gags finally ceasing after a few minutes.

He was well aware of the blood that rolled down his arm, indents from fingernails also stinging and buried deep into the pale, freckled skin that now had an ugly coat of scarlet that concealed them from his view. It ran down onto the bed steadily, not even ceasing as it still continued to run and flow across the expanse of skin and pool onto the sheets. They were red anyway. It fit right in, only a slightly deeper red than the covers.

Raising his head, he looked into the mirror - a true sight to see. Rather than a sight for sore eyes, he looked like something that would make someone gouge their eyes out. He wouldn’t blame them either. He felt like a freak, the weight of his secret almost crippling in his brain. Everything looked wrong about him - the way his hips jutted out too much for a boy, his overly feminine face, his chest...he wanted to rip that off. The material that constricted it made it almost hard to breathe every day, his chest heaving as he knew he had it on for too long, but he couldn’t risk taking it off. He just couldn’t.

Quirin had lost it when he found the last one, so buying a new one would be...too difficult. Well, as soon as the man had found out Varian’s secret, he’d lost it on the boy. Told him he’d ‘never be his son’ and refused to even look at him for a few days. He hated it when he cut his hair, even though he’d always kept it at a moderate length to keep Quirin happy. Well, if Quirin wasn’t going to call him his son, he wasn’t going to call him father.

What he hadn’t anticipated was this.

He only told one person his little secret. His almost deadly secret that he couldn’t risk getting spread because he’d already been transferred from Old Corona High to Saporia High, Old Corona apparently not being ‘good enough’. He’d left behind all his friend, everyone he’d ever cared about was gone and he wasn’t going back.

He met Andrew in his first week and almost instantly they’d bonded. They bonded over thinking the Corona High students were snobs and didn’t even deserve the air they breathed. He’d told Varian that everything he did was great and encouraged him to do more. He cared for Varian when his father was being difficult and had wiped away countless tears. He’d been there for him no matter what.

So he told Andrew his little secret.

He’d told Andrew. Andrew swore he wouldn’t tell anyone. Well, he swore until Varian befriended Rapunzel and her husband, Eugene. He didn’t even know he hated the pair, oblivious to the fact until Andrew had forced him to stop talking to them just the other day. Obviously he’d refused - why wouldn’t he? Rapunzel and Eugene cared for him. They loved him.

And so Andrew told everyone. Everyone in Saporia High knew his little secret, which is definitely not what he needed in a school that was almost built on republican values. It ached and pulled at his heart as he threw his phone across the room, it banging against the wall and he could swear he heard the shattering of the screen. It didn’t matter though anymore - not as if his father would have to fix it.

He rose to his feet. He had some business to attend to.

The burning returned as shaky legs dragged him towards the bathroom, fists clenched and locked himself in there, the tears still rolling down his cheeks. He felt too warm all of a sudden, sweat gathering and forming beads along his eyebrow as he heaved for breath and a pain spread and blossomed throughout his chest. He’d closed his eyes as he pulled off his shirt before he opened his eyes and stared at the binder that covered his chest. He wasn’t right. He didn’t know why he was born the way he was. The still shaking hands raised to open the glass cabinet in front of him as he took out two containers of pills. If he wasn’t gonna be listened to, he’d make them hear him.

The next time he woke up, all he heard was the persistent beeping of a monitor. A heart rate monitor. He remembered that from when his mother was in hospital. His vision was still blurred as he looked around the room, faces of doctors with masks and nurses opening doors appearing first, then the face of a familiar blonde rushing to his bedside as soon as the aforementioned door was even the slightest bit open.

“Rapunzel.” He coughed, forcing a smile onto his features. Everything ached. His stomach ached. He let out a wheezy cough as a dainty hand was raised to press against his cheek, the touch welcome and spreading a cooling touch against his skin. He felt too hot. Far too hot. He assumed that was normal, the humid air of the hospital being uncomfortable. The place was too sterile as well, too uniform.

Distantly, he heard screams of ‘Vivian! I want to see my daughter!’. Quirin. He raised his head from the comforting hand pressed to his cheek and dread filled his stomach. “Please don’t let him in.” He gulped, Eugene moving away from the bedside to stand in front of the door and help the staff holding the man back.

Rapunzel gripped his hand, a poor distraction as Eugene stopped Quirin from entering. “Oh Varian, we were so worried.” The soothing tone of the woman replied, the yelling outside ceasing as Eugene took a glance over. In fact, Lance and the girls were there as well as Cassandra and her girlfriend. A sad smile graced his features as he leant into the hand resting on his face and tears rolled down his cheeks.

“...And for as long as I live, you’ll never see him again!” The finishing yell of Eugene declared as the door to his room slammed shut and he rushed to his side, giving a silent nod to Rapunzzel. “Kid, you’re living with us. I’ll go get all your stuff and whatever you need, I just...fuck, kid. You should’ve told us sooner. We could’ve helped you, V. We didn’t know it was...that it was that bad. I just...fuck. I'm so sorry, Varian. I’m so sorry.” He explained, very clear tears welling in the man’s eyes as he apologised profusely to the boy.

By the end of the week, Eugene and Rapunzel had helped him move out and set up his room in the attic of their house. He didn’t want to be an inconvenience to them, but the couple seemed to welcome him with open arms as they took him away from Quirin. They’d also arranged for him to start at Corona High instead, having helped him legally change his name to Varian. No one would know other than the teachers.

Thank god.

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

Varian woke up with a start, sitting up and wheezing. Oh, that was right. Hesitantly, the boy gripped at the sheets before removing his shirt and the binder residing under it before putting the shirt back on again. Rapunzel had always been sure to tell him when he had to take it off, ever the observant. She’d also always been the one to tell him to take his hormones. He knew she and Eugene loved him even after he came out.

But would Hugo? Well, that was a whole different story but...fuck it.

His fingers drifted to pick up his phone. 2:37am. He took a deep breath. He was sure Hugo would still love him either way, even if he wasn’t a biological boy. He was still Varian and he was still the boy Hugo fell in love with. Inner turmoil filled him as he let out a determined breath and dialled his number before raising the phone to his ear. There was no going back.

“Sweetheart, what’s up?” The raspy voice on the other end asked. God, he sounded amazing. Guilt still settled in his stomach as he took a large gulp. Shit, he was calling Hugo at 2am. They had school tomorrow and he’d probably woken the other up. Oh fuck, he’d certainly hate him now- “Baby, you gonna talk? I’ve gotta finish this level on-”

“I’m trans. Well, I was a girl. But I’m a boy. Well, I was never really truly a girl, I’ve always felt like a boy and I guess what I’m trying to say is I’ve always been a boy but I have a girl’s body and I thought you should know.” He stuttered out, silence meeting him on the other end of the phone. He facepalmed mentally, wanting to just curl up and die. Was he really this awkward? Why couldn’t he have just been normal and told Hugo face to face. ‘Hello my ridiculously handsome boyfriend, I’m transgender and I hope you love me!’

“Oh..” The other finally said. Varian could tell he was carefully choosing his next words, he could practically hear the cogs in his head turning in the deafening silence. “Well, I still love you and that isn’t gonna get rid of me, V. But thanks for telling me. You’re still my amazing boyfriend and I don’t love you any less.”

“Thanks Hugh. Sorry, I’ll let you finish your game. I uh-I love you. Goodnight.” He replied, hanging up and setting his phone aside as he stared at the ceiling. Hugo didn’t care. Hugo still loved him either way. A warm feeling filled his chest and a goofy grin took over his features as he slowly, but surely, fell into a deep and very happy sleep.

#varian tangled #tangled varian #varigo #varian and the seven kingdoms #tangled hugo #hugo x varian #hugo tangled #varian x hugo #tangled the series #rapunzels tangled adventure

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whatstheproblembaby · 3 years

Text

Fic: Remember Me

Shelagh is a little confused when she wakes up at Nonnatus House, but everything will be all right when Patrick comes for her, won't it?

PG, ~2170 words, hurt/comfort out the ASS.

Read here on AO3!

She didn’t want to, but Shelagh eventually succumbed to the force of her waking mind. Rolling over, she stretched out an arm toward where Patrick should be, looking forward to a quick morning cuddle before they had to get up and tend to their children and patients.

Instead, her arm flopped over the edge of the bed, her fingers clipping the nightstand.

“Wha-” she grunted, vocal cords not quite awake yet. “Patrick?”

Shelagh blinked, and took in-

“Nonnatus?”

She sat up and fished her glasses off the nightstand, thinking that clearing her vision might also help clear her mind. She thought she had fallen asleep in her own bed last night, but she did have to stay over at Nonnatus sometimes if Patrick had a late, last minute call and couldn’t drive her home from the surgery. Perhaps she had just gotten mixed up.

Less explainable, though, was the resistance she met when she tried to slide her glasses over her ears.

“Who gave me a cap?” Shelagh asked as though someone was there to answer her. She patted her hands over her head, feeling the still-familiar white fabric in confusion, then looked down to take in the rest of her attire. “And a nightgown?”

She appreciated the kindness, since sleeping in either her day dress or her nurse’s uniform would have left her wrinkled and uncomfortable, but the fit of the pajamas was perplexing. The nightgown was visually identical to the ones the sisters wore, which made sense. They each had two, so any one of them could have lent her their spare. All of the sisters were slightly taller than she was, though - so how could she feel her feet poking past the hem to press against the sheets? The skirt wasn’t rucked up any higher than it should be.

Shelagh decided not to question it and turned on the lamp before standing up and padding over to the wardrobe. It would be too informal to take breakfast in her borrowed pajamas regardless of how they fit, not to mention the awkwardness she would feel at being garbed like a religious sister once more, even if no one else would think much of it.

“Most of them weren’t even here when I was Sister Bernadette,” she muttered. Shelagh didn’t make a regular habit of talking to herself aloud, but she suddenly wanted the comfort of an expected voice, even if it was just her own. “They wouldn’t know it was...inappropriate. Still, I’d rather be in my own dress and ready to get on with the day when Patrick arrives for me.”

She pulled open the wardrobe door and had to blink several times. In a daze, she shut the doors, counted to five silently, and reopened them.

The contents were the same.

“Habits?” Shelagh said, her accent thickening somewhat in shock. “Why ever-”

A light rap on her door interrupted her question. “Sister? Are you coming to Lauds?”

“I think you have the wrong room,” Shelagh said as she made her way over to let Sister Hilda in. “I’m always happy to attend Lauds with you, of course, but I’m no longer a religious sister. Oh, were you aware that I was once-”

“No longer?” Sister Hilda cut in, a bemused smile on her face. “Sister, are you feeling quite the thing?”

“I don’t understand why you keep calling me Sister. I renounced my vows ages ago.” Shelagh suddenly felt dizzy. Between the wardrobe full of someone else’s clothes and Sister Hilda’s insistence on using the wrong title...it was overwhelming so early in the morning.

Sister Hilda took Shelagh firmly by the upper arms and guided her so they were sitting side by side on the bed. “Sis- pardon.” She cleared her throat when Shelagh glared at her attempt to use the title yet again. “You are scaring me. Are you sure that headache you had at supper last night has gone away?”

“I’m perfectly fine,” Shelagh said, agitated. “And I did not have a headache at supper last night, which I ate, by the way, with my own husband and children!”

“With your - that’s quite enough,” Sister Hilda said. She pushed herself forcefully off the bed before chivvying Shelagh just as emphatically back into lying down. “I’m calling Doctor. I don’t know if you’re feverish or somehow sustained a head injury after Compline, but you are not in your right mind, Sister Bernadette. You will stay here until the doctor can have a look at you. Sister Frances can lead Lauds.”

Shelagh wasn’t sure which part of that speech she wanted to rebut first, but she finally spluttered out “Wh-what about Sister Julienne?” just before Sister Hilda exited the room.

“Mother Julienne is visiting the Hope Clinic in South Africa, as you well know!” The door closed decisively behind Sister Hilda.

“Mother Julienne?” Shelagh echoed. “Oh, what in the world is going on?”

While she was of the mind to flout Sister Hilda’s orders on principle, Shelagh thought she may as well wait there. One way or another, she would get to see Patrick, and she couldn’t exactly wait in the entrance hall in her nightie.

“Wouldn’t that be a shock, though?” she said, a mischievous smile growing on her face as she imagined the look on Patrick’s. She chuckled softly as the door opened again.

“Well, I’m glad you’re laughing, Sister,” Patrick said as he bustled in with Sister Hilda hot on his heels. “One of us should be in a good mood this morning.”

“Oh, Patrick, not you, too!” Shelagh said, shaking her head at his incorrect title for her. “Did Sister Hilda not tell you it was me she’s worried about?”

“You see?” Sister Hilda said, gesturing at her. “Something’s wrong.”

“Clearly,” Patrick said. Shelagh frowned as he hooked his stethoscope over his neck and dug a thermometer out of his bag. “You were right to call me.”

“Really, Patrick, that’s enough,” Shelagh said, moving to swing herself out of bed. “The children will be late for school if we mess about with this sad attempt at a comedy show any longer.”

“Sister, it’s incredibly unprofessional for you to keep calling me by my first name,” Patrick said, catching Shelagh by the arm to keep her in place. As he popped the thermometer into her mouth, he sat next to her on the bed and continued, “And honestly, I was unaware you even knew my first name. Is it in Mother Julienne’s old files somewhere?”

Shelagh’s mouth gaped, the thermometer falling into her lap. “Wh - of course I know your first name. You’re my husband, in case you’ve forgotten!”

Sister Hilda stepped forward, aghast. “Sister! I realize you likely don’t know what you’re saying, but that is beyond the pale! Dr. Turner would never behave so inappropriately toward a woman of God.”

“It’s all right, Sister, I’m not offended,” Patrick said as he pressed a hand clinically to Shelagh’s forehead. She wanted to reach up and cling on, reassure herself, but the lack of affection in Patrick’s eyes stopped her cold. “She’s not feverish. You’re sure she didn’t hit her head yesterday?”

“Not that I’m aware of.”

“Where are the children?” Shelagh interjected. She tried to keep the panic she was feeling out of her voice - Sister Hilda and Patrick didn’t need any more reasons to think she was mentally unwell. “May? Angela? Teddy? Did you leave them with Timothy?”

Patrick recoiled as though she had slapped him. It was Sister Hilda who responded, very softly.

“Dr. Turner’s son died of polio in 1958. You were still in the sanatorium, Sister - do you remember? I can ask Nurse Franklin for more details if it would help.”

“I...I….” The gravity of what Sister Hilda was saying struck her, and Shelagh couldn’t find words, couldn’t find air. She started crying, gentle tears quickly giving way to great, painful heaves that almost drowned out the sound of Patrick instructing Sister Hilda to call an ambulance and the Linchmere over her head. “No, please...Patrick! Don’t - I’m not-”

Her vision started fluttering, and everything went black.

__________________________

Patrick climbed the dark stairs slowly, exhausted after assisting with a long but ultimately rewarding delivery of a new mother of twins. He loosened his tie as he quietly entered his room, not wanting to wake-

“Shelagh!”

His wife was thrashing and sobbing on her side of the bed, her breath coming in frantic gasps between soft cries of “No - Patrick, no!”

“Shelagh, my love, I’m right here,” Patrick said, crossing the room in an instant to drop down beside her on the mattress and start rubbing her back. “I’m right here, wake up.”

“Patrick?” Shelagh’s fitful movements eased ever so slightly, her head tilting toward the sound of his voice.

“Open your eyes, darling, I’m here,” Patrick coaxed. He gently encouraged her to turn onto her other side, facing him, and as she rolled, her eyes opened.

The look of relief and fear that mingled on her face as she came back to consciousness caused him physical pain in his chest.

“Oh...oh, Patrick,” she said, tears welling in her eyes as she sat up. “Tell me you know who I am.”

“What? Shelagh, you’re my wife, of course I know who you are,” he replied, confused.

She threw herself into his arms almost before he had finished his sentence. “Thank God. Thank God.”

Patrick reached out quickly to turn on the bedside lamp before settling against the headboard and pulling Shelagh firmly into his lap. He ran a hand up and down her back soothingly, waiting until her tears calmed enough that she should be able to speak.

“Tell me what happened.”

“It was - oh, it was the worst nightmare,” Shelagh said. She made to slide out of his lap, but he tightened his grip, only allowing her to shift so she was sitting sideways rather than facing him. He handed her the hankie from his trouser pocket so she could wipe her eyes as she continued, “I woke up and I was at Nonnatus House, which was just unusual, but then Sister Hilda started insisting that I was still a sister, and Sister Julienne was actually Mother Julienne and away in South Africa, and you...you….”

She broke off to blow her nose.

“You came to examine me after Sister Hilda called...and you didn’t believe me either. You were going to call the Linchmere. But even worse than that….our children. Timothy.”

“No one believed you about them, either,” Patrick guessed, pressing a kiss to the side of Shelagh’s head when her flinch informed him he was right. “But Tim?”

“In my dream, he didn’t survive polio. Oh, Patrick,” Shelagh sobbed out, tucking her head into the juncture of Patrick’s neck and shoulder.

“Shhh....shhhh, darling,” Patrick said. He removed her headscarf so he could stroke her hair, her back, as the collar of his shirt got progressively wetter. “It was terrible, but it was only a dream. Timothy and the little ones are here. I’m here, and I know you, and I love you.”

After a few long moments, he felt Shelagh’s cries ease, and the vise around his own heart loosened too.

“I’m sorry,” she said, emerging from his neck. “I don’t mean to carry on over a dream.”

“Don’t you dare apologize,” Patrick said fiercely. “Your emotions aren’t any less real because they came from a nightmare. What you can do for me, though, is get up and rinse your face. I’ll make everything comfortable for when you’re done.”

Shelagh looked a little reticent as she stood, but she did make her way to the lavatory to wash up. Patrick scrambled to get into his pajamas, turn down the bed, and get the pillows fluffed and rearranged before she returned.

“That does feel better,” she admitted as she reappeared. “Thank you, dearest.”

“All in a day’s work,” Patrick teased gently, lounging on his back. His smile grew as one bloomed hesitantly on her face. “Now come here.”

Shelagh snagged her headscarf from where he’d left it on her pillow and tied it on before crawling into bed and snuggling close. Patrick anchored one arm firmly around her back and brought the other up to stroke the arm she had draped over his chest.

“This is already better than how I fell asleep before,” Shelagh said, voice muzzy.

“As it should be.” Patrick tilted Shelagh’s head up just long enough to kiss her softly, smiling against her mouth at her sleepily inept attempts to kiss him back. “Rest, love. There will be no more nightmares tonight.”

Shelagh’s head fell lightly against his shoulder, and Patrick dipped his to rest it on her crown. He had relied on the sound of Shelagh’s heartbeat and the warmth of her body to sleep when his memories of Northfield and the war had overwhelmed him, and he could only hope the same would be true for her now.

In the morning, she informed him that it was.

#call the midwife #call the midwife fic #turnadette #turnadette fic #jen does words #g: hurt/comfort #let's not talk about how much id i released here mkay

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headinthe-fridge · 4 years

Text

My Grandfather’s Lawyer (pt. 4)

⁂ – Ushijima Wakatoshi x reader – ⁂

warning: nsfw, swearing

Summary: Your grandfather, Washijo Tanji, disowned your mother when she was pregnant with you and her hatred towards him was passed on to you. Now, your estranged grandfather wants you to leave your life in Tokyo and come live with him in his estate in the Miyagi Prefecture.

You took a day off and a 6-hour trip, intending to give him a piece of your mind before disappearing from their lives forever. You didn’t expect to see an ailing and fragile old man. Your day trip stretched into weeks and soon, you patched things up with your estranged family and warmed up to everyone -except to one: Ushijima Wakatoshi -your grandfather’s lawyer.

He thinks you have ulterior motives in reuniting with your grandfather.

You weren’t suppose to care what he thinks of you. His opinion didn’t matter.

But it did.

AN: OMG you guys are blowing up my notifs, sorry I couldn’t reply to each of you, I barely have time to linger in any socmed apps bc of work. BUT THANK YOU ALLL!! I Loooove you. I’m trying to make y/n as gender neutral as possible but not sure if i’m doing a good job. But yeah, heres part four! 💖💖

Masterlist

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

"I hope you don't mind if I do most of the talking." Your grandfather started.

"There are so many things that I want to tell you but I don't know where or how to start. He couldn't hide the sadness in his voice. Of that, you were sure. "I have a feeling that no matter how hard I try, you will stick to what you know -to what your parents told you.

"Your hostility today proved that I was right about my hunch, so that leaves me no other choice but to tell you everything. And to start, I want to explain the exchange of letters your mother and I had."

"L-letters?" Your brows scrunched in confusion.

"You mean you don' know that... well, I should have known better." His shoulders dropped. I know everything that happened with your family because of the letters your mother sent me, although, at that time, I don't know the reason why she did that so I never bothered to read those.

"It was only later that I realized why," He paused then added lowly. "That was to spite me, of course. She wanted to show me that even if your family isn't rich, you're all very happy. That even without the luxuries, you are complete and you love each other."

The old man looked up at you, his eyes glistening in tears. "Do you know that that hit me terribly? I was happy for her but I cannot admit to myself that I envy her. I envied your family's happiness. It was as if you had nothing to worry about in this world.

"I can't believe that my youngest daughter, my dear Noriko who got everything she wanted without even lifting a finger, my Norik who grew up in a wealthy household, chose to live a simple and plain life with her husband and child." Your gaze was fixated on your grandfather so you didn't miss it when he gently wiped a lone tear that fell down his cheek. You were astounded. You thought you were imagining things.

"But... but why didn't you help us when we asked?"

"It was too late when I learned of your mother's sickness, it was too late when I read the letters. But even if I knew early on, it was clear that she didn't want any of it. Even if I wanted to, I couldn't because I never knew where it was that you live, only that it was in Tokyo. It seemed she used a different address when she sent me those letters."

"I find that hard to believe."

"I don't expect you to believe me now, my dear y/n. But please don't close your heart and mind. Please give me a chance."

"But why now?" Your voice faltered, mind racing. Everything that your parents told you doesn't add up to what the old man said. What is even the truth? Who lied? Was it your parents? But why would they do that? No, they wouldn't.

"It's hard to explain, y/n, but please understand that I'm just a father who loved his daughter greatly. I didn't approve of her relationship with your father because I thought he wouldn't be able to give the things she needed. When Noriko ran away with your father, I was devastated."

You shook your head fervently. "N-no, I don't believe you, you're just saying that because yo-"

Like I said earlier, I don't expect you to believe me." He cut you off then reached for a small brown box that rested on top of his bedside table. He offered it to you.

"I hope that the contents of this box would ease away at least some of your hatred for your grandfather."

You took it with trembling hands. "What's this?"

"You'll know once you open it but if you may, please do that when you're back in your room. And return that box to me, please, as soon as possible. What's inside of that box are more than just treasures."

Your grandfather's crest-fallen expression only heightened your confusion. "You may go now. Your old man is tired and in need of rest." -- With swollen, red eyes, you blinked the tears away to clear your vision. You tried to contain your sob as you placed the letters back inside the box. It was your mother's letters for your grandfather.

you briefly wondered why your mother even bothered to write these letters when half of them were full of hatred and anger for her father.

But at the same time, you couldn't blame her. Aside from loving your father so much, she also had her own principles and greatly values her dignity. Plus, the fact that your grandfather disowned her also terribly hurt your mother.

Your head spun. You somehow felt ashamed of yourself; how you acted earlier, and all the things you said to your grandfather.

But then again, none of that matters now. There was also nothing you could do to change what happened in the past so you decided to only bother yourself with the present, with what needs to be done now.

For a long period of time, you paced around the confines of your room but instead of coming up with a plan of action, it only made you tired. You let out a deep sigh before laying on the futon. The best thing you could think of right now is to sleep through it and silently hope for everything to be okay tomorrow. ---- You woke up the next morning with a heavy heart. What happened last night still vividly replayed in the forefront of your mind, as if it happened only seconds ago. You could still hear the deep longing and sadness in your grandfather's voice, the anger in your mother's letters, and your hostility towards him.

Now that you knew the truth, staying here would be too much.

Groggy and groaning, you willed yourself to get up from the futon and prepare to leave. You glanced at the wrinkled clothes that you wore yesterday, you were only gonna wear it during the trip so that will do.

You were all set when your eyes landed on the small brown box. You needed to return it to your grandfather, the letters are important to him.

The heaviness in your heart alleviates. Despite the harsh and hurtful words your mother wrote in those letters, your grandfather still kept them and considered it more than treasures. You picked it up from the chabudai. You're going to say goodbye as soon as you return it to him.

It would be better to go back to Tokyo. To go back to your previous life before you met your long lost family. Yes, it would be best to go back to Tokyo and forget everything that happened for the past 24 hours. Now may not be the time but you hoped that your relationship with your grandfather will take on a good turn.

Someday. But not now.

As soon as you stepped out of your room, dead silence welcomed you. You made your way to your grandfather's quarters but the creeping silence got to you. Did you wake up too early or do the people in this house just stay in bed too late?

You shrugged away the thought when you arrived in front of the old man's room. You were about to call out to him when someone grabbed your wrist.

"Good, you're awake. You're really the reason why I quickly came back. Let's go." Your grandfather's lawyer declared at pulled you to god knows where. "Huh? Wait, where are you taking me?" You tried to pull your wrist away from Ushijima's grip.

"I will bring you to your grandfather. He's in the hospital right now and kept calling for you, so whether you like it or not, you're coming with me."

You unconsciously let yourself get dragged along. The moment you heard that your grandfather is in the hospital, worry filled every fiber of your being.

You now fell in to step with him, his tall frame looming beside you. He still hasn't let go of your wrist. You looked up at him, his cold eyes met yours and you immediately looked down.

"What happened to him? And how is he?"

"If you really want to know then I suggest you ask him yourself." He said dryly.

His apathetic tone irked you a bit but you decided to keep your mouth shut. The ride to Sendai General Hospital was short and silent. His brooding and aloof demeanor didn't help in subduing your growing ire for him. But seriously what is his problem?

Part 5

Taglist: @thegrumpyhag @sushij1ma @valoryess @yakus-yakult @ly-nia @ushi-please @plutoglass @kokofirebangbomb @strawberryy-milkk @melanieacademy @defunkitatedmess @lunarknox @wtoshii @kyomihann

#haikyuu #haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu reader #haikyuu x you #ushijima wakatoshi #ushijima x you #ushijima x reader #ushijima wakatoshi x reader #ushijima wakatoshi x you #ushiwaka

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katedrakeohd · 4 years

Text

Christmas Love ~ Part Two

[A Very Valtorian Christmas Masterlist]

Rated: Mature for Adult Themes, Angst, talk of Depression and Emotional distress during pregnancy, otherwise this story is all fluff and good stuff.

(I suck at trigger warnings, so I apologize in advance)

A special shout out to @drakeandcamilleofvaltoria for the drake & kate in a bathtub story challenge. 😊

Tagging:

@jlpplays1 @walker7519 @drakesensworld @kimmiedoo5 @speedyoperarascalparty @furiousherringoperatortoad @drakeandcamilleofvaltoria @jovialyouthmusic @samihatuli @kingliam2019

@fromthedeskofpaisleybleakmore @sirbeepsalot @dcbbw @desiree---1986 @emceesynonymroll @wickedgypsymoon @gardeningourmet @indiacater @bobasheebaby @loveellamae @rainbowsinthestorm @burnsoslow @mskaneko @bbrandy2002 @jessiembruno @emichelle @griselda1121 @msjpuddleduck @princess-andromeda-nazario @princess-geek @princessleac1 @addictedtodrakefanfic @janezillow @nikkis1983 @texaskitten30 @debramcg1106 @moonlightgem7 @be-still-my-aching-heart @walkerswhiskeygirl

With a sigh Drake looks around the bedroom. The bed clothes were wrecked from their play wrestling, and the girls in the laundry were going to fuss over the wrinkled sheets, but he had other concerns. Kate hadn't come back from the bathroom yet. Had he been too rough? He knew he got carried away sometimes, and today he had awoken Kate earlier than usual. Setting his phone and the bag of cookie treats on the bedside table, he walks over to the bathroom to check on her.

To his surprise the door is ajar and he hangs back for a moment to watch his wife. She was standing at the sink in her pale silk dressing gown dabbing at her face with a damp wash cloth. Her eyes looked sad as they met his in the mirror. Her gaze shifted back down to look at the water in the sink as he eased the door open and entered the bathroom.

“Kate?” he says in a low voice, his face softening with concern. Stepping up beside her he turns and leans against the marble counter, “Honey what's wrong?”

Still looking down at the sink Kate shrugs and then starts rambling, “I don't know, just feeling a little overwhelmed I guess. I was looking in the mirror at myself, standing in this gilded and fancy bathroom that belongs to a Duchess, and wondering what a nobody waitress from a New York dive bar was doing in such a place. A pregnant waitress, pretending to be a Duchess, who is going to birth a child that is destined to rule a country. It all seems so bizarre considering where my life was headed just a year ago. What do I know about running a Duchy, or about being a Mother to royalty?”

Drake reaches out and gently cups her cheeks in his hands, wiping away her tears with his thumbs and tilting her face up to look at him.

“Kate, our Duchy is fairly self sufficient, there isn't much you really need to do. And the Mother part… I’m going to be with you every step of the way, you aren’t ever going to be raising our child alone. We're both new at this and we'll figure this out together, and we've no shortage of help whether it's friendly advice from those who love us or the help of our Manor staff. There are healthcare professionals, counselors and support people to guide us in Parenting if we need it. There are political advisers and tons of community support to help us keep the Duchy running smoothly. There's nothing for you to worry about.”

Seeing the calm and loving expression on Drake's face, and knowing that he's making perfect sense, brings fresh tears of gratitude. His tone isn’t condescending or teasing just honest and full of love. Kate covers her face with her hands. “I'm so sorry. You must think I'm so foolish and crazy.”

Drake pulls her into his arms as she continues crying against his shoulder. “Sshh, you're not foolish or crazy. You're only human Kate, and I love you. You're growing a whole other human in that beautiful body of yours and you have every right to get emotional about it.”

The thin material of her robe offers little warmth and Drake realizes how cool her hands are as she cuddles into his chest. “My gosh, Kate you're freezing. We really need to find a way to heat this bathroom better. Let me draw you a warm bath, and then we can talk some more.”

Kate nods wiping at her puffy eyes and sniffing back her tears as she steps back. Drake grabs a bath sheet and wraps it around her shoulders, “Here hold onto this while I draw us a bath.”

“Us?” Kate asks quietly, wiping her nose on the corner of the towel.

Drake chuckles quietly, leaning over to turn on the taps on their large soaker tub. “Well who else is going to wash your back for you?”

“You're so sweet to me Drake, I bet other husbands don't do this for their wives.”

Drake fetches Kate's favorite shampoo and body wash out of the shower, “Well they should.”

As Kate watches, he places the shampoo and body wash on the side of the tub along with another bath towel for himself. Reaching into the bathwater he tests the temperature and then sits down on the edge of the tub to wait for it to fill.

Kate shifts from side to side, rubbing one cold foot against the other. How Drake could walk around naked in the chilly marble tiled bathroom and not shiver was baffling to her.

Drake glances down at her shuffling feet, “The floor does get cold in here doesn't it? I think we should invest in some infloor heating.”

Kate nods, “I suppose in the meantime I could get some slippers.”

Drake turns off the taps, and then walks over to Kate. Wrapping his arm around her shoulders he places a kiss on her temple. He grasps the edge of her towel in his fingers, “May I?”

Kate lets go of her towel and Drake pulls it away with a flourish, quickly folding it and placing it next to his. Untying her robe, he slips it down off of her shoulders and it melts into a puddle at her feet. Kate gasps and instinctually wraps her arms around his ribs to soak up some of his body heat.

Cradling her gently around the back he tilts his face down and closes his eyes, smiling against her lips as she tilts her face up to meet his. Their kisses are soft and unhurried, lips parting for each other under gentle pressure as they meet again and again. Once Kate feels warmed all over, she tips her head back and whispers, “Thank you, I needed that.”

Drake nods, “Mmhmm, I know. Ready for your bath?”

Kate nods and Drake steps back and then dips down to scoop her up in his arms. Kate holds onto his neck and shoulders as he turns and gently places her down into the warm water. Scooting forward a little she allows him room to climb in behind her. Drake settles down into the warm water with a sigh, drawing up his knees and Kate slides back to lean against his chest. Lifting his hand face up out of the water and resting it on his knee, Kate takes the silent hint and places her hand in his lacing their fingers together. Tugging his arm back to hug against her chest, she kisses the back of his hand. He dips his head down to kiss her shoulder. They sit quietly like this for a few minutes, watching the steam rise from the water. Kate breaks the silence first, “So what did Preston want?”

Drake presses more kisses against her shoulder and neck, working his way up to her ear. “He brought me my phone, that I'd left in the SUV yesterday, and for you he brought a special treat.”

Kate caresses up and down his thigh, raising her eyebrows with surprise, “Ooh, what kind of treat?”

Drake squeezes her hips gently with his thighs and kisses her on the cheek, “Oh, something round, sweet, green and Italian.”

Kate frowns in thought, “Sweet, green..and Italian?”

Drake sweeps her hair off to the side, kissing the back of her neck. “Remember the last time we visited Rome? We went into that sweet shop and you fell in love with the Pistachio Almond cookies on the sample tray?”

Kate gasps as she remembers, “You got me Peluso's Pistakì cookies?”

Drake smiles as he reaches for her bottle of body wash and the bath sponge. “Mmhmm, I asked Preston to enquire about them at the candy shop in town. I told him to tell them that they were your favorite cookie and asked if they could get them in stock.”

“Oh Drake, that's the best gift ever. Now I don't have to go all the way to Italy to find them. How did you know I was craving them?”

“I've watched you nibbling on bowls of mixed nuts and trail mix lately, and there always seemed to be almonds and pistachios mixed in along with your chocolate covered raisins and cranberries.”

Kate blushes as she gnaws on her bottom lip. “So you've caught onto my cravings for sweets then?”

Drake uncaps her body wash and squirts some on the sponge. “Uh huh. But you've seemed to keep it on the healthy side for the most part. As far as I can tell. So kudos to you.”

Kate thinks back to the cookies and milk and gum drops she was snacking on yesterday. Hana made sure to save as many green candies for Kate as possible. Kate nods, glad that Drake can't see the guilty expression on her face, “Yes, yes I try to.”

Drake knows she's lying but lets it slide. “Want to sit forward so I can wash your back and shoulders?”

Kate scoots forward in the tub, enjoying the scent of orange blossoms and vanilla as Drake washes her shoulders. Watching the creamy foam slide down over her breasts as they rise out of the water reminds her of ice cream. Breathing deeply and closing her eyes, Kate suddenly has a craving for an Orange Creamsicle.

Drake drags the sponge underneath the water and rubs Kate's back with it, bringing a moan of satisfaction to her lips. “Mmm, that feels so good. Why do you do so much for me?”

Drake wets down her hair with the sponge and then hands the sponge forward and reaches for her shampoo. “Cuz, it's my job.”

“I didn't know bath buddy was part of the Duke of Valtoria job description.” Kate giggles as Drake runs his fingers through her hair.

“No, but it's on page three of the husband and lover handbook.”

Kate bends her knees up and scrubs down her legs with her sponge. “That's funny. I've never seen that book in the library before.”

“It's in the special ‘Guys only’ section.”

Kate closes her eyes as Drake lathers up her hair, “So if bath duties are on page three, what's on page one and two?”

Drake smirks, as he scoops water up in his hands and rinses out her hair, “Sorry that's classified information.”

“Ok, point taken. So what other surprises should I expect on our first Christmas day?”

“I dunno, you'll have to wait and see. Oh just to clarify, you didn't really want a pony did you? Because we could always add one to the stables.”

Kate laughs, turning around in the tub to kneel between his thighs and lean in for a kiss. “No silly, you're my pony.”

Drake grins, sliding his hands down to cup her ass as she giggles between his kisses, “And what about the rockets and fireworks?”

Kate gasps with delight, wrapping her arms around his neck, “Ooh, could we really have fireworks?”

Drake squeezes her ass and teases butterfly kisses across her cheeks and nose, “Not for Christmas, but maybe for New Year's Eve.”

“Ooh, they would be so pretty to set off over the lake.”

Drake nods, “Sounds like a plan, consider it done.”

---

Later, all warm and cozy in flannel pjs and sitting cross legged on the bed, Kate opens up her package of cookies. “It's a shame I can't have a cup of coffee with these. I miss coffee.”

Drake wanders out of the closet dressed in a pair of track pants, “We could get some decaf sent up from the kitchen. Or maybe some tea. I know I could use a coffee too.”

Kate unwraps a cookie and bites into it, closing her eyes and savoring the sweet flavor, “Mmm, these are heavenly. Do you want one?”

Drake watches her lick the powdered sugar off her lip. “Maybe later. Don't eat too many of those we still have to make an appearance at breakfast.”

Kate pouts as she finishes off her cookie. “Oh fine, just one….or maybe two. One for me and one for Little One.” Kate rubs her belly affectionately as she reaches into the packaging for another cookie.

Drake walks over to the bedside to check his phone, there's a light flashing indicating messages. “Damn, it's almost dead.”

He opens the bedside drawer to fish out his charger. Sitting down on the edge of the bed he hears the rustle of another cookie being opened. He sighs and then glances over his shoulder at Kate. “I thought Little One, or whatever was only having one cookie.”

Kate looks away, brushing some pistachio crumbles off of her chest. “Sorry.”

Shaking his head, Drake rests his elbows on his knees and thumbs through the messages on his phone. “Seriously, save room for breakfast. Oh look.. it seems that Bertrand and Savannah won't be coming to our Christmas dinner after all.”

Kate raises her eyebrows, mumbling around a cheekfull of cookie, “Aww, why not?”

“Bartie's sick and they don't want to travel with him and get us sick too.”

Drake turns and snatches away the box of cookies, “You're gonna make yourself sick eating so many of these. Can't be good for Little One.”

Kate tears up a little at his gruff scolding, “Hey those are mine! We're hungry.” She rubs her belly and pouts.

Drake frowns rubbing at his forehead with his thumb and fingers, “Quit it already with the childishness. Besides using the nickname ‘Little One’ over and over again is bugging the hell out of me. We need to pick out baby names or something.”

Kate looks down at the bedspread as she picks at the crumbs around her, “Actually Hana helped me pick out names yesterday.”

Drake sighs with annoyance, tossing his phone down on the bed. “Hana helped you.”

Kate shrugs avoiding eye contact with Drake, “And Nicholas…I'm sorry, I know you wanted for us to do that together.”

Drake's nerves bristle at the mention of Nicholas helping pick names for his heir. He and Kate had been adamant that their baby was to be raised as they saw fit, and that the heir to the throne business shouldn't be a priority until it really needed to be. “You let him pick names instead of me?”

Kate tries to diffuse Drake's anger before it got any worse, “Not exactly. He just supervised as Hana and I researched names from Cordonian noble history. We were just throwing around the idea of reviving an old name that would help our child connect to the past.”

The idea of his child being named after some long dead stuffy noble grated on Drake's nerves even more. “So we could instill a sense of stuffy pretentiousness in our child from day one?! You've got to be kidding.”

Kate sighs, her stomach feeling queasy, and her baby moving about adding to her growing discomfort, “Look, it's just a list of names. It's not a binding contract or a damn yoke around our baby's neck. You have the right to veto any name you don't like or toss the whole list away and we can start a new one. I'm sorry Drake, really I am. I didn't realize you would get so upset.”

Drake's phone vibrated on the bed and he picked it up to check it. With a groan he runs his fingers through his hair, giving it a tug and then letting go. “Well Fuck, if that doesn't add insult to injury.”

Kate looks on with concern, “Now what?”

“Olivia has invited herself to dinner.”

#long post #drake x kate #a very valtorian christmas #trh fanfic #drake walker

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emperorsfoot · 4 years

Link

Horde Prime might be a gross creeper and you’re not supposed to like him. But at least he honestly loves his son.

...

Hec-Tor was alone when he woke up.

The bed wasn’t even warm where Entrapta had slept. She must have fled the bridal suit the moment the sun came up.

That was fine. Hec-Tor didn’t know what he would have said to her if she was there anyway. He got up to start his own day. Hopefully one that was closer to his regular schedule then this past week had been.

Stoppering his ports with silicone plugs, he started with a dust bath. Letting the powder-fine dust cleanse him of the dried sweat and –other- bodily fluids that crusted him over. Sex could be enjoyable, but it was also a messy business. Hec-Tor rubbed down every inch of himself, giving special attention to the most affected areas. Not just his thighs and abdomen, but underarms and back. Where sweat liked to collect. When that was done, he wiped around his ports with antiseptic just to make sure they were clean and sanitary.

A dutiful servant, or maybe even a member of his own staff, must have slipped in during his bath, because when Hec-Tor stepped out of the washroom, the bed was made and his armor and a fresh gown were laid out on it. They had also left a scale and his personal data pad on the bedside table. Good ol’ Mantenna and Grizzlor, they were the best lieutenants a leader of the Horde could ask for.

Placing the scale on the floor, Hec-Tor weighed himself, and- a sigh. Yes, he was still losing weight. Another hundred and ten grams since the previous day. Not as much as he’d lost over previous days, but still a loss. Hec-Tor logged the loss in his health tracker app before getting dressed for the day.

There was a week’s worth of work waiting for him on his desk and he needed to get to it.

There was more than a week’s worth of work waiting for him.

Datacards stacked upon datacards. There were more piles than just Imperial business, personal business, and household business. The Imperial business had been split up into multiple piles, each one meticulously labeled with sticky notes in Grizzlor’s surprisingly refined hand writing. The uprising in the mines on Krytis. Famine on Antares now, on account of burning out the blight. The rebellion on Denebria. Issues that, just one short week ago, were small matters that could have been handled in a day, were ignored and allowed to grow into more serious problems for the Empire.

Hec-Tor rubbed his forehead. The day had barely even started and already he had a headache.

This was a lot to tackle in… however much time Brother was going to give him before he was sent to Etheria and Dryl to oversee his new wife’s weapon’s manufacture.

He took a breath. One thing at a time. Hec-Tor was good at his job. He’d been doing it almost all his life. For about as long as Brother had been the Prime. He would get everything sorted out and the Empire would continue to function like a well-oiled machine. Like the engine of domination it had been since the early days of the First Horde Prime.

Hec-Tor moved all non-critical datacards off to one side. The ones for his personal business ventures and household concerns were shifted to the side. Along with-

Hec-Tor paused.

There was one stack missing from his desk.

Although, ‘stack’ was inaccurate. It hadn’t been a ‘stack’ of datacards in many, many years. Lately it had just been one sad, lonely, little data file that always read the same thing. ‘No new leads.’ Even so, Hec-Tor wanted to see it anyway. But it wasn’t there today. There should have been more than one. There should have been a week’s worth of them. But there were none.

There was no update on the search for Keldor on his desk.

Hec-Tor yanked open the drawer he threw them in when he wasn’t ready to read them. Those were gone too. He pressed the intercom in his desk.

“This is Grizzlor, attendant to Imperial Prince Hec-Tor Kur of the Great and Eternal Horde Empire.” The deep and gravely voice of Gur’Rull Gu’Rrooow Arrrk, given Imperial name: Grizzlor answered. Originally from the planet Jungulia, Grizzlor looked like a rough and brutish thug who didn’t have two brain cells to rub together. But he was actually a graduate of the Horde Academy on Horde World, not just a graduate, but in the top percentile of his class. Meticulous, organized, and good at his job. Grizzlor would not have just ‘misplaced’ something as important to his Prince as the search for his missing husband.

“Where are the updates on the search for Keldor?” Hec-Tor demanded.

“Ah-uh.” Grizzlor hesitated before answering and the channel crackled. Grizzlor never hesitated. Grizzlor was competent and decisive. “The search for Prince Keldor was ended, Your Highness. As- as per order of the Emperor, all remaining datacards containing information on the search were to be delivered to processing to be wiped and repurposed.”

“What!?” Hec-Tor snarled an expletive that was most unbecoming of a Prince of the Horde Empire. How dare he! Brother had no right! “How long ago were they taken to processing?”

“I just dropped them off this morning, Your Highness. Right before heading to meet with Princess Entrapta’s Lady in Waiting in preparation for your journey to Etheria.”

“I’m here too, by the way.” Said a female voice Hec-Tor recognized as one from Entrpata’s party, but he hadn’t yet memorized the face or name that corresponded to it. “What’s a keldor?”

Hec-Tor ended the transmission.

He stormed out of his officer, and stomped down twelves floors, through countless corridors, shoving palace staff and visiting dignitaries aside, to get to data processing and card scrubbing.

Two dozen startled IT technicians looked up when he barged in. They almost never got members of the Imperial family down here. This was basically a boring basement. Was he lost?

“Where are the cards my lieutenant dropped off this morning?” He demanded.

There was a pregnant pause in which no one did or said anything. Still just a little too shocked to process. Hec-Tor grew impatient and angry and snarled a wordless snarl at the lot of them, displaying his razor sharp crimson teeth. Very few in the Empire got to see members of the Imperial family up close, still fewer got to see them angry and live to tell the tale.

One terrified tech dared to approach, holding out a half-empty tray of less than a dozen cards. It was maybe an eighth of what Hec-Tor had allowed to accumulate on the search for Keldor.

“Th-these are the only ones that haven’t been scrubbed yet, Your Highness.”

All that information, lost…

Hec-Tor suppressed another snarl. He snatched up the tray –making the tech wince as he did so- and counted the cards. Seven in total. Dates all out of order. Some from only last month, others years old, from all the way back when he first stopped reading them. Hec-Tor gathered up all the cards, turned, and left the room. He discarded the now empty tray by the door where it clattered loudly to punctuate his exit.

In the lift back up to the administrative floors of the palace, Hec-Tor seethed silently. Standing at a disciplined rest, his arms clasped behind his back, both hands wrapped around the datacards.

He had half a mind to track down Brother, wherever he was in the palace, and give him a piece of his mind. How dare he! If he wanted to have Keldor declared legally dead, that was his prerogative as Emperor. If he wanted to marry Hec-Tor off to some foreign arms manufacture, whatever, the Empire needed weapons. If he wanted to take Keldor’s wedding ring- Hec-Tor felt the pressure of tears building and he hoped he didn’t start crying before he got back to his office –if he wanted to take the ring, Hec-Tor would adjust. He had a different wedding ring now, and besides, it wasn’t like he didn’t have anything left of his husband. He still had Imp. But where did Prime get off calling off the search for Keldor! Taking away the last scrap of hope Hec-Tor had that his husband might be found.

By the time the lift opened up on Hec-Tor’s floor, he still hadn’t decided if he wanted to confront Brother or not. But he didn’t get the chance to decide. He was distracted by something else.

Imp and Zed came running up to him.

Actually, Imp was flying. Zed was hobbling quickly, the breathing tank of his respirator clanking loudly against his armor.

Imp screeched at him loudly, making his displeasure known. Though, what he was displeased about was unknown.

Zed grabbed Imp’s hand the moment the other boy was no longer moving. His breath wheezed out when he spoke, but his voice was firm, almost commanding. Like the young Horde Prime-to-be that he was. “You cannot take Imp when you leave. I will not allow it.”

Still flapping next to him, Imp squawked an agreement. He tried to Sign a more detailed explanation to his father. That they had always been together. That Zed needed him and he could not leave. That if the adults tried to separate them, they would fight back. They were sons of the Kur Dynasty same as their fathers. They would be respected.

But it was difficult Signing with only one hand and only half Imp’s message got across.

Hec-Tor glared at the boys.

At any other time, he would have been proud of them for asserting themselves. For digging their heels in and refusing to back down. For demanding to be taken just as seriously as any other Princes of the Horde Empire.

But they cought him at a bad time.

Hec-Tor was already in a foul mood and was not in the right state of mind to entertain children’s tantrums, or explain how the world worked.

“Enough!” He snarled at the boys, voice louder than he needed to be. Behind his back, his hands tightened around the few datacards on the search for Keldor. “Horde Prime has dictated that I must go to Etheria, so to Etheria I will go, and my son shall remain with me.”

Imp was all he had left of Keldor.

“I will fight you, Uncle!” Zed was probably the least threatening creature in the universe.

“You will return to your keepers and continue with whatever items your father placed on your agenda for today.” Hec-Tor informed him. “Imp, you will report to Mantenna to help you prepare for our immenant departure.”

Both boys hissed. Zed’s sound morphing into a snarl half-way. Mouth open, teeth showing. He let go of Imp’s hand and assumed a fighting stance. It was off balance. The placement of his feet clumsy. Zed was not a great warrior. Zed was also a five-year-old child with severe physical limitations that would prevent him from ever becoming a great warrior. The idea that Zed seriously wanted to fight him was laughable.

Hec-Tor actually laughed at him.

Zed pounced on him. Trying to jump to compensate for the height difference. Failing to get more than a couple centimeters off the ground and still stumbled on his landing. Zed tried to kick Hec-Tor in the shins instead.

Imp squawked.

The metal plating of Hec-Tor’s boots absorbed Zed’s blow and the child ended up doing more damage to himself than to his uncle. His toe and whole foot erupting with pain. The boy hollered.

Then paused.

“Is your infantile tantrum over?” Hec-Tor glared down at the boys.

Zed did not respond, his expression oddly blank. Hec-Tor also froze, recognizing the warning sign. Zed went still as a board, his muscles rigid. Then collapsed.

Hec-Tor went down next to him. Dropping his handful of datacards as he tried to catch the boy. Or at the very least cushion his fall.

Zed’s body began twitching and jerking. His muscles seizing.

Imp shrieked in distress.

“Stay back.” Hec-Tor growled at his son. When a person was having a seizure, you wanted to keep the area clear. Give them room. Hec-Tor also swept the fallen datacards aside, out of the way. Removing anything from the immediate space that Zed mind injure himself on during his uncontrollable convulsions.

Imp fluttered into the air, keeping his space from his cousin. Squawking with concern. This was not the first seizure he’d witnessed. But each time was still concerning for the still very young child.

Hec-Tor looked around, checking the chronometer on the wall to time the seizure. It wasn’t even a full minute yet. That wasn’t that bad.

A passing secretary paused, staring at the scene. Unsure and slightly scared. That was the Heir Apparent on the floor twitching.

“Go get Horde Prime!” Hec-Tor snarled at him.

They ran away immediately. Presumably to go get the boy’s father. Or someone with enough clearance to get the boy’s father.

Hec-Tor glanced at the chronometer on the wall again. Now it had been a full minute since the seizure started. Hec-Tor rolled Zed onto his side, to help keep the boy’s airway clear. Zed had enough breathing problems as if was without a seizure constricting his pipes.

The seizure was entering its second minute when Horde Prime arrived. Immediately going to his knees next to Hec-Tor.

“How long?” He demanded, all pretense of a calm and commanding Emperor gone. Voice tight. Expression concerned. The image of a fearful parent watching their child suffer and knowing there was nothing they could do. All one could do for a seizure was wait it out.

“It has not yet been two minutes.” Hec-Tor informed him. This was not the first seizure of Zed’s he had attended.

Prime nodded. Two minutes was about average for one of Zed’s seizures. Less than two minutes was great! More than two minutes was concerning. Five minutes or more and you had to pick him up off the floor and rush him to the palace infirmary because that was a medical emergency.

Finally, the convulsing subsided. Zed stopped twitching. He lay on his side, still and unconscious. The only sound in the corridor, the respirator strapped to his armor breathing for him.

Hec-Tor looked back up at the chronometer on the wall. “One minute, fifty-six seconds.”

Just under two minutes. The better side of average for one of Zed’s seizures. It wasn’t that bad.

Horde Prime gathered the unconscious boy up into his arms. “I shall see to my son.”

“Of course.” Hec-Tor backed up to give his Brother some space.

Prime paused, looking at Hec-Tor. Holding Zed in his arms, he paused. “You…” It seemed almost as if he did not know what to say. “I have always appreciated how you treat Zed as if he were your own.”

“He is my nephew.” Hec-Tor stated, as if confused. Why wouldn’t he care about Zed and treat him as family? They were family.

Still holding the unconscious boy in his harms, Prime took a step closer to Hec-Tor. Leaning in. So that their faces were unnecessarily close together. “Brother…”

Then Zed groaned in his sleep.

Prime turned his attention back to his one and only living child. “I will be indisposed for the rest of the day. Any matters that require the Emperor’s attention will be forwarded to you.”

Prime carried Zed away.

Hec-Tor stood there, watching his Brother’s retreating back.

Imp gathered up the discarded datacards, crawling around on the floor to make sure he got all of them. Then tugged on the hem of his father’s gown. He offered up the handful of datacards when his father looked down.

Bending down, Hec-Tor picked the boy up, hugging him to his own chest. He was never more thankful for the magic that made Imp than right after one of Zed’s episodes. Magic that allowed for Keldor to combine their genes safely to creature a –comparatively- healthy being. Imp might have his own physical deformities and be functionally mute, but he would never have to suffer the same afflictions and impairments as his cousin.

“I want this to be the end of any tantrums about leaving.” He told the boy. “Zed must stay with Anillis and you will come with me, and you will not get Zed worked up over this again.”

Imp gave a forlorn little chirp and nodded against his father’s armor.

Hec-Tor carried him back to his office with him.

He set the boy down in his own chair and paced the room, feeling anxious and worked up. Nothing wracked the nerves harder than watching a child you helped raise convulse on the ground uncontrollably. Even if said convulsions were a semi-normal thing. Add that to the already stressful week he had and Hec-Tor was having a somewhat difficult time calming down.

Unfurling his wings, Imp flapped out of the chair and fluttered over to his father, trying to give him the datacards again. Maybe Dad would feel better if he had this work that he was carrying around before Zed had his episode.

This time, Hec-Tor did take the stack of cards from the boy.

Then he sighed. “Sometimes I wish you did remember Keldor.”

Imp tilted his head, not understanding.

“Etheria, the planet we will be going to, is located in the same system as his home planet. Eternia.” Hec-Tor informed him son. “You are half-Eternian.”

Or would Imp be considered half-Gar? Since that was Keldor’s race, Eternian was just his nationality. Nationality was a circumstance of birth, not a characteristic of one’s genetics.

Imp only gave a half-hearted little trill. He didn’t really care. Horde World and the Imperial palace was all he’d ever know.

Finally, Hec-Tor calmed down enough to sit at his desk, Imp perching on the back on his chair. He tapped Keldor’s datacards on the desk. Going all the way down to processing to collect them when all they would probably say was that there were no new leads and Keldor remained lost seemed so absurd now.

And he lost an entire morning of work too.

Any moment now his staff would be bringing lunch and medication to him here in this office. The day was half gone and he had nothing to show for it. He opened a drawer in his desk, the same drawer he’d been throwing them in for years. The same drawer they were taken out of to be sent to processing. Hec-Tor losed the drawer without stowing the cards in it.

Instead, he passed the stack back to Imp. “Pack these for me.” He commanded. “I will read them after we have left Horde World.”

Not understanding, but still feeling the obedience of guilt over Zed’s seizure, Imp took the cards. He nodded to his father then fluttered out of the room.

Hec-Tor massaged his forehead. He had the absolute worst headache.

#hordak #horde prime #prince zed #spop #motu #entrapdak #grizzlor #fan ficton #horde empire #seizures

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destiel-love-forever · 5 years

Text

Coda 14x18

I fixed it <3

(#obviously spoilers if you haven’t watched)

Read on AO3: Coda 14x18

At some point during the burning of Mary's body, Dean stormed off to the impala and left. With a silent look, Sam went after him and Castiel stayed, seeing that the hunter's funeral was finished properly. He stood there for hours. Part of him knew he was using it as an excuse to stay away from Dean. To put off the impending heart break. He has to go home eventually though.

Home. Can he call it that anymore? Dean is his home. But the man's voice echoes in his head “You're dead to me.”

You're dead to me.

It's late when Castiel gets ho- to the bunker. The place is deathly quiet, a strange absence of noise considering the state of the place. Chairs are broken. Lamps. A bottle of whiskey lays broken on the floor, a splatter of the liquid on the wall above where it now rests, shattered in a puddle on the floor.

That's how Castiel finds Dean. Shattered. In a puddle on the floor. Cradling a new bottle of whiskey to his chest. It looks like he tried making it to his bedroom but gave up halfway down the hall. He lays broken. Not crying. Not angry. Just staring off into the distance with a blank expression.

Not bothering with words, Castiel walks to the man and picks him up. Dean doesn't even argue as he's carried bridal style to his room. That's how Castiel knows this is bad. Very bad.

He places Dean on the edge of his bed, hovering his hands inches away in case the man falls over. When he decides that Dean is stable, he reaches down to take the whiskey.

Green eyes snap up, focusing for the first time. “No.”

“Dean. You need rest.” They fight over it like children until Castiel pauses the tug of war, the two of them holding it at once, holding hands at the same time, whiskey suspended in the air. “I won't take it away. I'll just put it on the bedside table. Right here. Nice and safe. Okay?”

“Safe,” Dean echoes in a whisper.

“Yes. Safe. You can grab it and take a drink whenever you need. Okay?”

“Safe.” Dean's eyes lock onto him again. This time, it feels like he's telling Castiel instead of asking. But what? What's safe? Dean is safe? Because Castiel is here? Or Castiel is safe? Because Dean doesn't hate him like he said?

You're dead to me.

You're dead to me

You're dead-

“Cas,” Dean starts.

“Yes?”

“You saw her?”

Castiel gets down on a knee to look Dean in the eye. “I did. Her and your father.”

“What-” he pauses, sniffing and wiping away a few tears. “What were they doin’?”

“They were watching the sunset. Sitting on the porch swing of a house overlooking the lake.”

“Were we there?”

“No.”

Dean drops his head, looking at his lap. “Oh.”

Unable to stop himself, Castiel adds, “Sam and Jess live in the city nearby with their three little ones. He got his law degree. He uses it for social activism. They visit at least once a week.”

Still not looking at Castiel, Dean huffs a laugh. “And let me guess? I'm some alcoholic no one acknowledges? Black sheep? Maybe come home for a holiday now and then just to fuck it up.”

“No, Dean. You are happy in their world. You live a life that, in Mary's mind, would make you happiest.”

Dean looks at him, nibbling on his bottom lip. “What is it?”

“What?” Castiel asks, even though he knows what Dean is asking. He's terrified to tell Dean what he saw. He thinks maybe he should lie. It feels like a betrayal to lie, though. A betrayal to who, Castiel doesn't know, but a betrayal nonetheless.

“What's my life like there?” There's so much vulnerability im Dean's eyes. It takes Castile's breath away, and he knows he doesn't stand a chance. Of course he will tell Dean. Even if it changes nothing. Even if he still breaks his heart after.

You're dead to me.

“Happy,” Castiel chokes out. He clears his throat and clarifies. “You went to college. Got a degree in criminal justice. You're a detective. A very good one. You live in a beautiful home just a few blocks from Sam. Your kids are best friends with his. You're - you - you're married. Happily married.”

“To who?”

Castiel forces himself to maintain eye contact. “Me, Dean. You and I are married.”

The shock he expected doesn't come. Instead, Dean's lips tilt up in a ghost of a smile. “And we have kids?”

“Yes. A little boy that looks just like you, but with even more freckles. And a little girl with my black curly hair and blue eyes.”

“They're biologically ours?”

“Yes. I'm human. So we can grow old together. We used a surrogate. First your sperm. Then the next one mine.”

Dean's lips part in a breath. “I bet they were beautiful.”

“Yes. They were.”

“Very unrealistic though.”

The subtle hope that had been swirling inside Castiel sparks and fizzles out. He swallows around the lump in his throat, looking away quickly so Dean can't see him blinking to try and fight the tears.

You're dead to me.

“I would never go to college,” Dean says with laughter in his voice. “Plus, I'm too old for that shit. And with two rugrats running around? No way. I'd be exhausted. Especially if they have our DNA. I think I'd own an auto shop. Like Bobby's. I always felt at peace when I was workin’ on cars.”

“Wait.” Castiel snaps his eyes to Dean. When he blinks, a tear slips down his cheek. “It's unrealistic because you wouldn't go to college?”

“Yeah.” Dean reaches out a shaky hand, touching Castiel's face with just his fingertips, almost like he's checking to make sure he's still real. “The rest is nice, though. The rest we keep.”

Castiel leans into the touch and holds his breath. It only takes a second before the sadness returns, making Dean pull his hand away and slump his shoulders. “There's no sorrow. There's no guilt. Just joy.”

“What?” Castiel asks.

“That's what you told me and Sam about my mom's heaven. There's no sorrow. There's no guilt. Just joy.”

“Yes.”

Dean nods, his eyes going blank like when Castiel first saw him. “Maybe I should die. Maybe it'd be better. I'd like a life like that. I want that life. Not this one.”

“Oh, Dean.” Castiel scoots closer. “That life isn't real.”

“But it's better.”

“Dean-”

“I can't do this anymore, Cas. I can't live this life. I can't handle the sorrow anymore. I can't handle the guilt.” Dean gives him a broken smile. “Like today. The things I said to you. That was unacceptable. That's not how you deserve to be treated.”

“It's fine, Dean. You were-”

“No,” Dean nearly growls. “No. It's not okay. I'm not okay. And the way I treat you. The way I'm always treating you? Not. Okay.”

Castiel nods. “You're right. It's not okay. It needs to stop.”

“It will. I swear. I'll be better.” Dean’s eyes meet Castiel's. They're watery and red. “We could go. We could be in that world instead. Together. I'd probably be a shitty husband and a shitty father, but I'll try, Cas. I'll try really fucking hard.”

“No, Dean. We are staying here. Alive. In the real world.”

“I don't like this world anymore.” Dean closes his eyes, a tear slipping down his freckled cheek. “I'm not sure I ever did.”

Castiel stands up. He shrugs out of his coat. Then kicks off his shoes. He removes Dean's flannel. The man keeps his eyes closed, just letting Castiel do what he wants. It isn't until they're beneath the covers, Castiel holding Dean tight to his chest, that Dean finally opens them again. He blinks, finding himself nose to nose with Castiel. When he breathes in, he breathes in the angel. He wants to hold it inside himself forever. Even if his lungs burst.

“We'll build that life here, Dean. You'll see. We can be happy. Even with sorrow and guilt, we can be happy.”

“Happy,” Dean whispers. It sounds like a request.

“Happy,” Castiel replies. It sounds like a promise. “I swear to you Dean Winchester. I'll give you your auto shop. I'll give you those beautiful children. I'll give you anything I possibly can.”

“Me too, Cas. I'll give you everything. I'm tired of feeling like this. I'm tired of keeping it all bottled up. It's not fair to you.” Dean rubs their noses together. “I'm sorry for today.”

“I know.”

“You could never be dead to me. Even when we lost you, even when you were physically dead, I still saw you everywhere. I still longed for you. Missed you. Needed you. Dreamt of you.”

Castiel releases a shaky breath. It's everything he's ever wanted to hear. He's terrified. And thrilled. He's shocked. And happy.

He's happy.

“I love you,” Castiel whispers against his lips, pushing thoughts of the darkness away.

Dean presses closer, planting a kiss without actually kissing him. “I love you, too,” he says against his mouth.

He pulls away only to lean back in and kiss Castiel again. They kiss until they forget everything but themselves. Then they fall asleep tangled together. In the morning, they'll begin to rebuild. This time, they'll do it right.

#destiel #supernatural #coda #spn coda #14x18 #absence #hurt #comfort #I fixed it #happy ending #castiel stands up for himself #dean admits he's an ass #I needed this #im not okay #I'll be in the corner crying #bye

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savemefromanepicoftimewasted · 5 years

Text

Life’s A Struggle

Chris E X OFC Sebastian S X OFC a/n:this is a personal fic for a friend and i, just posting here so she can read it

I’m currently writing this instead of the fic like i should be, so you’re welcome

There was no surprise that Chris and I had our rivalries, it was very well known in our household. Ever since he found Kait wearing my jersey around the house after the Pats won, well it was pretty obvious who the favorite was. He had resorted to pouting around the house, ignoring me whenever i tried to talk to him. Why i agreed to marry that man i wasn’t entirely sure.

“To be fair, she wasn’t just wearing my Patriots jersey, she was wearing my fucking Brady jersey, did hell freeze over?” I looked over at Seb, raising a brow in complete and utter shock, this was a first for her.

“Well, yes.” Seb chuckled, pulling Kait down into his lap as she strutted over.

Chris had left some time after lunch, saying that he needed to process his emotions before he dealt with my attitude. He was just a sore loser and it was fun watching him pout at the moment.

“I give it by two he’ll be back and cuddling us on the couch.” I rested my head against Seb’s shoulder, sneaking a few chips from the bowl he had been snacking on. “He won’t even wait that long, man’s too attached to you to stay away that long willingly.” Seb hadn’t even taken his eyes off the screen, hands roaming beneath the shirt Kait had stolen from him.

Her loud giggle echoed through the living room, startling dodger whom was sleeping soundly by the front door. Well, if it hadn’t been Kait it would’ve been Chris, so maybe it was a good thing. He tended to sleep too close to the door, and had almost been stepped on more times than anyone in the house could count. But he was adorable, so we all let it pass and moved on.

It was only an hour later that Chris finally came back inside, groceries in one hand with his phone in the other. Both Kait and my phone ringing from a new notification. Chris was complaining about politics on twitter, again.

“Did you two just like my tweet when you’re laying not even five feet from where I’m standing right now?” I looked up at him, smiling softly.

“Yes.” Chris shook his head with a small laugh, heading down into the kitchen to put away the groceries he had gotten while he was out.

Kait didn’t bother to acknowledge Chris’s presence, knowing full well that he would throw on a pair of sweatpants and join us on the couch when he was damn well and ready. Which always happened to be sooner rather than later.

Seb threw on a random movie, not bothering to really check what it was before relaxing into the couch and holding Kait tighter. Unfortunately for him it looked to be The Winter Soldier, good enough for Kait and I.

“I’m not leaving this on.” Seb reached for the remote, glaring as i pulled it away from him. “Oh yes you are, don’t you even think about touching it.” I smirked and slit it underneath me, making sure to keep it high enough where Seb wouldn’t be able to get it unless he slid his hands beneath my shirt.

He glared at where i was laying, waiting until Chris came out to try and figure out how exactly get the remote back. Unluckily for him Kait was asleep against him, and if he moved too much she’d wake up.

“You better give me back that remote or I’ll make sure Chris doesn’t sit anywhere close to you.” I simply shrugged, it wouldn’t be the first time he had done this to me before.

“Won’t be the last time you say that to me Seb.” I yawned, stretching along the couch to further prove my point.

Chris walked out slowly, raising a brow when he noticed the remote that was firmly wedged beneath my body and the couch.

“I want to ask questions, but at the same time i don’t know exactly what to ask.” I smirked up at him, holding out my arms to let him know i wanted cuddles.

“You aren’t allowed to cuddle with her, she stole the remote from me.” Seb pouted, shifting himself so he’d be able to cuddle with Chris.

Chris glanced between Seb and I, choosing who he’d rather have mad at him for the next few days, sliding up behind Seb quickly. My jaw dropped open, had my own husband just choose to cuddle with someone else while i laid right there? Well, two could play at that game.

“Fine, you win Seb.” I pulled the remote from under my back, placing it down next to his arm before pushing up and off the couch.

Chris reached for my arm, in hopes that i would plop down on the couch with the rest of them and enjoy something that wasn’t the movie that was currently playing. I pulled away before he could get a full grip, going to the guest bedroom. Maybe it was cruel to play a joke on the two men that were currently cuddled on the couch, but damnit i was mean at times.

The living room was quiet from the moment i shut the door, to when i was woken up around dinner time. When had i managed to fall asleep? Better yet, why the hell hadn’t anyone bothered to wake me up so i didn’t sleep so damn late. Probably Seb being the little shit he is, told Chris i needed my beauty sleep.

“Hey hun, you hungry?” Kait glanced over to where i was standing, my stomach gurgled embarrassingly loud. “A little, I’m gonna eat in the bedroom.” Kait’s eyes narrowed for a second before she was rolling them, picking up on my cruel prank within seconds.

“Why don’t you sit at the table with us babe?” Chris held out an arm, gesturing for me to go over so he could wrap his arm around my waist.

I shook my head, keeping my arms around my middle gently. Maybe petty was my middle name, but i wanted cuddles and he had chosen the traitor Seb over me.

“I’m still a little tired.” I took the plate from Kait once she was done fixing up the food, taking a fork and heading down to the bedroom once again.

I tried not to pay attention to Chris’s frown, or the way Seb’s brows creased as i pushed the door closed, my plan was underway. One of the two would stop by before everyone went to bed, try and see what the problem was. If it was Seb he’d act like i was acting childish over the movie, I’d have to play up the tears a little if that was the case.

The food was delicious as usual, your typical chicken parm, but it was made by Kait which made it just that much better. I hadn’t even realized how hungry i was until i was practically licking the plate clean, setting it down on the bedside table as i curled up under the blankets. The tv was playing some generic romcom, something i hadn’t bothered to pay attention to at all.

The room was pitch black as the bed dipped slowly, two hands spreading across my shoulders almost gently. My sleep fogged brain took a few moments to catch up, the person definitely wasn’t a murderer, which was nice.

“Chris is demanding you get back in our bed, so let’s go you baby.” Seb nearly had his arms beneath my body, hands cupping my sides and legs.

“No, I’m sleeping in here for the night.” I pushed him away, digging myself further into the bed that seemed ready to swallow me whole.

“Get up and get in the over bed, this is fucking ridiculous.” Seb huffed, reaching for the blanket I’d all but pulled up to my chin.

“Leave me alone, go back before they notice you’re not there.” I sniffled, rolling onto my opposite side.

I genuinely hated crying in front of the boys, I’d always felt like a baby whenever they caught me crying during movie nights, or whenever i was watching a sad video. But right now Seb had pissed me off and i needed him to feel bad. The tears were fake, just like my anger for him in the moment.

“Shit, Krista don’t cry.” Seb pushed himself closer, frowning when i pulled the blanket over my head.

“I said leave me alone Seb, I’m sleeping alone tonight.” He sighed, pushing off the bed and leaving the room without a fight.

Now all i had to worry about was Chris figuring out my plans and stopping me from making Seb feel even worse before i got him to crack.

My body felt even more tired when i got up in the morning, as if the last near sixteen hours of sleep wasn’t enough. Seb was perched at the kitchen table, picking idly at his cereal as he scrolled through his emails. Chris was sitting across from him, and from the circles that were beneath his eyes i could tell he hadn’t gotten much sleep the night before. Now all i had to hope was that Kait didn’t out me right now.

“Morning.” I pressed a kiss to Kait’s cheek, climbing into one of the chairs down by the end of the table.

Dodger was asleep by his food, Chris must’ve played outside with him after he ate breakfast. Seb glanced up from his phone for a few seconds, gaze quickly going back to the bright screen. I wasn’t entirely sure if my face gave away my fake emotions, or if I’d had tear tracks from the night before on my face.

“Oh hun.” Kait wiped a hand across my cheek, lips pressing against my forehead.

“Thank you.” I muttered into the skin of her shoulder, wrapping both arms around her waist slowly.

Chris didn’t say anything, simply watching the scene unfold in front of him while Seb clutched his phone even tighter. It was obvious to everyone in the room how much tension settled over everyone.

“Kait and i are gonna go grocery shopping in a few, so you and Seb are gonna be home alone.” Oh shit, please tell me this was a joke.

“Oh, okay.” I nodded, tightening my arms around Kait’s waist.

She must’ve told Chris about the joke, that i was torturing Seb for the fun of it. And he was determined to have us make up, sometimes i despised the the way they thought.

“Try not to be out so long like last time, please.” It was a silent plea for them to not leave me home alone with Sebastian.

They of course didn’t listen to me and headed off to get ready for the day. Seb hadn’t so much as moved from the table, pushing around the soggy cereal. Kait pressed a kiss to his cheek, whispering something into his ear before leaving with Chris. He looked up from the bowl, eyes dark, a smirk playing on his lips.

“So, when’s the last time you got laid doll?” I jumped in my seat, what the hell was he talking about?

“About a month ago.” The smirk slid from his face faster than i could blink.

“I’m sorry, did you just say a month?” I shrugged, picking up my phone.

“Well i would’ve asked Kait, but her period hit, and by the time hers was over mine hit, and then you guys were gone for two weeks, so yeah.” Seb’s jaw was still hanging open, possibly dumbfounded at my answer.

It made me feel only slightly nervous, had Kait not told either of the boys how long it’d been since I’d been able to get off?

“Plus i was having a lot of bad self image days and refused to get in bed unless i had more clothes on than Kait usually allowed.” Seb didn’t say anything, setting down his phone and standing up with his half eaten bowl of cereal.

Maybe i shouldn’t of said anything, make it even more awkward between all of us in the house. It was already bad enough when Kait would text the boys and have them send me personal encouraging texts, it rarely worked to get me out of my own head.

“Get on the table, now.” Seb placed his bottle into the sink, eyes locking onto mine.

“Excuse me?” I pushed upright, away from the table entirely.

“I said get on the table, right now.” Seb wasn’t wasting any time, pulling from the chair and setting me down onto the cold surface.

I stared back at him, mouth agape at just how bold he was being. Sure, I’d started out with teasing him, but this? This was something that was a little new to me.

“Seb, what’re you doing?” I couldn’t figure out his sudden motive, watching as he pushed my legs apart almost harshly.

“You said yourself it’s been a month since you got laid, and I’m here to help you with that.” He stepped closer, lips trailing along the skin of my neck slowly.

I bit my lip harshly, running my hands over the skin over his back. He was getting me hot and bothered with a few kisses. Man it really had been too long since I’d gotten laid.

“Did you wear this hoping Chris would go into the guest room last night? Fuck you into the mattress until you were begging for mercy?” Seb trailed his hands up my thighs, gripping onto the panties i had thrown on before bed last night.

“Yes, god yes i did.” I dug my nails into his skin, whimpering as he all but tore my panties off.

“I can’t keep my girl waiting now can i?” Seb smirked, pushing off his pajama pants with a soft sigh.

His cock was flushed red, tip glistening with precum as he waited for me. Neither of the boys would push us if anything changed, no matter what.

“Gonna fuck you nice and good.” Seb pushed his hips closer, the tip catching gently against my clit.

“Fuck me Seb.” I pushed myself back against the table, whimpering as the cool marble soaked through the thin nightgown.

He didn’t wait another second, pushing in with a harsh thrust. The stretch was one of my least favorite parts after not having been ‘intimate’ in so long, but god did his cock feel good. Haphazard thrusts, hands gripping onto skin, loud moans filling the thick air.

“Fuck! Baby I’m not gonna last.” Seb thrusted harder, pushing his hips closer to my own with each thrust.

“Don’t you dare stop!” I slipped a hand between our bodies, rubbing harsh circles on my clit as i chased my orgasm.

Seb ground his hips roughly against my own, groaning as we came together. The air encompassing us with a post sex glow. I wasn’t even entirely sure if my legs would work for a little while.

“So, this is what you two get up to when we’re not home?” Chris set down the bags on his arm, smirking at Seb and I.

“Well seeing as he’s the first person to fuck me in a month, I’d say yes.” Kait laughed, startling dodger who’d been peacefully sleeping.

How? I had no idea.

“Oh stop your complaining, you got Sebby to fuck you at least.” Kait stepped around the table, pinching Seb’s ass as she passed him.

“I’m not complaining at all anymore, i just don’t think I’ll be able to walk for the next few hours.” I couldn’t stop the giggle that slipped out, laughing harder as Chris rolled his eyes.

Okay, maybe i was gonna be complaining a little bit. Wouldn’t be the first time i complained about something i should be happy about.

4 Years Prior Why the hell did i ever let Kait drag me to parties? Especially where i wasn’t going to know anyone. She was the one friends with everyone, i was here as a guest, someone attending with one of the original attendees. And hell was i standing out like a sore thumb, especially when Kait left to go meet up with her boyfriend, Sebastian.

“God, everyone’s staring at me.” I’d pushed myself to a far corner, sipping on a glass of wine while trying to make myself as small as possible.

Maybe i shouldn’t of let her and Seb put me in a dress that was far too tight, even if it was black it was still too revealing. I just wanted to be at home, in my bed, with a bowl of doritos while i watched movies. Not standing around trying to make myself as small as possible while her and Seb mingled with everyone. Hell i was the third wheel at this party, couldn’t exactly go up to Kait and stick by her side the entire night.

“I’m sorry, i didn’t think anyone was in my corner.” I nearly jumped five feet in the air, spinning to face the sudden voice that intruded into my inner thoughts.

“Sorry, i don’t like being out in the open in a place I’ve never been to before.” My throat tightened as i took in the stranger, rather yet the man who’d been invading my dreams since i was younger.

He smiled softly, lifting his drink to his lips for a second. I knew i was staring, there was no shadow of a doubt in my mind that i was staring at him. Get your head out of the clouds and look at something else so you don’t start drooling!

“My names Chris, and yours?” He held out a hand, smiling down at me.

“Krista.” My cheeks were burning as i stared up at him, sliding my hand against his own.

Okay, now it was simply unfair. Not only was he absolutely stunning in person, but his skin was exceptionally soft. I probably looked like a gremlin standing next to him, no doubt in my mind.

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but did i hear you talking about the Patriots earlier?” Oh my god, had he been close enough to Kait and I to really hear that conversation? “I was, I actually grew up in Mass, my friend likes to talk some shit and i decided to be an ass and have her blurt out how much she hates Tom Brady because she hates him for no reason other than simply to hate him.” Chris threw his head back with a laugh, everyone knew how much of a Patriots fan he was, let alone a Brady fan.

“Sounds like you have a good friend right there.” His smile was soft enough to melt the heart of every woman in that room.

Oh who the fuck am i kidding, he could melt the heart of everyone if he damn well pleased.

“So, why exactly are you trying to hide?” He glanced down at me, brow raised slightly.

“Oh, my friend dragged me here and i don’t know anyone besides her, so I get really awkward in crowds and this dress is way too short and tight.” I sipped my wine, feeling myself beginning to ramble.

Chris nodded, as if he understood exactly why i was trying to hide in the farthest corner of the room. Who knows, maybe he’d gone through the same thing before and did actually relate to how i was feeling.

“I’m sorry if this sounds too forward, and you are free to absolutely deny my request, but would you like to get out of here and go get some pizza?” I was floored, did Chris Evans just ask me to get pizza with him?! “That sounds amazing actually, much better than standing in six inch heels and hiding until my friend gets drunk enough that her boyfriend drags her from the party.” His smile seemed even brighter, arm outstretched for me to take.

I blushed and slipped my arm through his, setting down my glass of wine on the bartop. Kait was at the far end of the room, tucked snugly into Sebastian’s side. She had a glass of sangria held in her free hand, a love drunk smile on her face. Chris glanced over to where i was staring, raising a brow as he looked between Kait and Sebastian.

“That the friend you’re talking about?” Chris jerked his chin to where they were. “Yeah, she met up with him the moment we got here almost two hours ago.” I shrugged, afraid I’d made an idiot of myself already.

Though it didn’t seem like he was angry at all, the smile still on his perfect face. Okay, time to get out of your head before you let him mount you on the floor. Too far.

“Didn’t realize she was dating my guest to the party.” My head whipped around to where Chris was, I’m sorry, did i hear him correctly?

“I’m sorry, you came here with Sebastian?” Maybe my hearing was finally going.

“Yeah, all he could talk about was his girlfriend he was meeting up with.” My cheeks darkened with a deep blush, how much had i not paid attention too.

Chris shook his head, leading us from the party out to where his car was parked. My mind was racing with a million and one thoughts, what exactly did this mean? Better yet, what the hell were we going to even talk about over pizza? He’d probably realize how boring i was and take me back to my apartment. God, how embarrassing would that be? ‘I couldn’t even entertain Captain America, so here i am’.

“So, how do you know Kaitlyn?” He wasn’t paying attention to anything besides the road.

“We actually bonded over our love for Marvel, and the rest is history.” I smiled softly, lacing my fingers together.

“No kidding.” He smiled himself, pulling down onto a road i wasn’t really familiar with.

Maybe it was somewhere more secluded, there were plenty of restaurants like that around the apartment anyway,

“Seb’s been trying to set us up on a date for the last year and a half.” I turned to look at him slowly, unsure if i was ready to hear the rest of what he’d say.

“Wait, you’re the guy they’ve been telling me is single? Jeez i assumed it was some weirdo that was gonna take me to his house and murder me.” I slapped a hand over my mouth, how stupid can one person be? Chris laughed, easing his foot off the gas for a second as a tear slowly slipped down his cheek. Maybe that was a good thing? And i hadn’t just entirely ruined my chances of seeing him for more than tonight. It slowly sunk in in that moment that we were on the way to his house. Jesus, Mary, and Joseph I’m about to die.

He parked the car, getting out and running to the passengers side to open the door and help me out. And they say chivalry is dead.

“Did you plan this?” Chris’s arm stiffened just barely beneath my fingers, breath catching in his throat.

“Possibly.” Oh my god, they’d planned a date with Chris and I behind my back.

How could i even complain though? The man was downright gorgeous and an absolute sweetheart to boot. There was no way in hell i was going to make a fuss about any of this. The sound of paws running down the hall caught our attention, Chris’s dog dodger staring back at us, tail wagging.

“Aren’t you adorable.” I knelt down onto the floor, laughing as he began to lick every inch of open skin he could.

“Wow, he must really like you, he’s never so affectionate with people he’s just met for the first time.” Chris chuckled, bending down so he was eye level with the lovable pup.

Dodger turned his attention to the gentleman beside me, showering his face with loving kisses. It was an amazing sight to see, something i hoped I’d get to see a little more often.

“I’m sorry, I’m not being a very good host am i?” Chris stood up, straightening out his shirt before holding his hand out for me to grab onto.

I took hold of his hand, letting him pull me back to my feet so we could actually enjoy the date. Dodger stared up at me expectantly, as if waiting for more head rubs that i would surely give him after the date. As long as it ended well between Chris and I, of course.

“Sorry, I haven’t cooked for anyone in a while.” Chris gestured to the table that currently covered in delectable looking food.

“Are you kidding? I couldn’t make anything that looked half as good as this.” I smiled softly, taking a seat as Chris did the same.

To say that Chris was a huge liar when he had said he hadn’t cooked in a while would be the truth. The food was incredible, each bite tasting better than the last. I honestly wished it didn’t have to end, that i could just sit and eat without a care in the world. But alas, i was currently on a date and that’s not appropriate.

“So, why exactly were they trying to set us up exactly? Kait seemed adamant that we talked at least once.” I glanced over at Chris, sipping on the wine he’d poured right before dinner.

“Well, she said you’re like me, in a sense.” Chris chuckled as i narrowed my eyes at him, raising a brow after a few silent seconds.

“Like you? I’m sorry but I’m not some gorgeous actor that gets praised almost daily.” I threw back the rest of my mine, the words burning my throat.

Chris rested his elbows on the table, resting his chin against the palm of his right hand as he stared at me. I’d managed to ruin a date with just a few words, wouldn’t be the first time I’d done something like that.

“I actually think it’s because you’re a Patriots fan, plus a Sox fan mostly.” Oh, of course.

“I grew up in Mass, it’s practically illegal to not be a Patriots fan.” I took a slow bite of my chicken, swirling the pasta that still occupied my plate almost lazily.

“Wouldn’t necessarily say that, I’ve met people who were Yankess fans that lived in Boston.” I nearly dropped my fork against the plate.

“Excuse me? They must’ve had balls of steel, jesus.” I shook my head, not something you heard everyday.

Chris laughed loudly, throwing himself back against the seat, right hand pressing against the left side of his chest. My cheeks grew red, I’d managed to make Chris do the left boob grab, holy shit.

“Well, i wouldn’t really know, didn’t see him much after that encounter.” Chris wiped his eyes, snickering as he realized he’d begun to cry from laughing so hard.

“My uncles a Yankees fan, though i think it’s more to spite us because we’re all Sox fans.” It felt natural to be around him, even if my brain was currently screaming at me.

“Well, now that dinners gone, would you like dessert?” Chris’s gaze was locked on my lips, i could barely get enough air into my lungs.

“Dessert sounds amazing.” I gripped his shirt, pulling his lips flush to my own.

Back At The Party Seb’s P.O.V “If i noticed correctly, Chris swooped in and they left together.” Kait snuggled herself into my side, giggling softly.

“You saw correctly babe, I’m sure she’ll call and scream at you but it’ll be worth it.” I wrapped an arm around her shoulder.

“Thank god, we’ve been trying to get them together for months.” She groaned, clutching my jacket tighter.

“Time to get you home and in bed though, too bad I’m staying at Chris’s for the weekend.” Kait narrowed her eyes at me, as if testing my words.

His house was closer to the airport, and I had to be on a flight out of the state at five in the morning come monday morning.

“Can i at least stay the night with you? I’ll be able to take Krista home in the morning.” I wouldn’t able to say no to her, especially not when she was pouting.

“Just for tonight baby, i gotta work tomorrow.” Kait tightened her arms, knowing full well I wouldn’t rolling out of bed until the last minute like usual.

Of course, what we weren’t expecting to see when we walked inside Chris’s house were the two of them getting down and dirty on his couch. Her back arched harshly as his hands gripped her hips as if she’d disappear otherwise. Kait bit her lip softly, hands sliding over my pants lightly. I knew what she was asking for, silently begging for.

“Take me to bed Sebastian.” Kait’s voice was breathy, her perfume swirling through the air as she let go of my hands, heading down to the guest bedroom i would be staying in.

I palmed my cock for a second before chasing Kait the rest of the way, the couple on the couch unbothered by the noise. I’d pay for any damages i left behind, always did.

2 Years Later “Sebastian, if you so much as look at me i will rip your head off.” So, deciding to fuck your boyfriend on the kitchen table while your husband and girlfriend watch can be a good thing.

If you want your husband to take everyone to bed and everyone get fucked until they can’t move. Which is exactly what happened moments after Chris and Kait home, they hadn’t wasted a single second pulling Seb and I into the bedroom. Clothes were torn from the two still covered people, moans filling the air. Unfortunately, that meant any and all protection was completely forgotten about, for two weeks straight.

“It’s not my fault Chris couldn’t keep his hands off you.” Seb raised a brow as if to say ‘you know I’m right, don’t try me’. And god, was it annoying as all hell.

“Chris didn’t let me leave the room for two days, you’re lucky we had the bathroom or else I’d of stunk the sheets for days.” Seb rolled his eyes, popping a few pieces of popcorn into his mouth.

We’d exhausted our bodies entirely after a week, until a two day break was all but demanded, and then restarted as Chris and Seb came home after Kait had sent risque pictures of her and I. Not to say the sex wasn’t out of this world, cause it definitely was, there was just one small little problem. And that’s where Kait and I were today.

“I still don’t understand how she didn’t get pregnant for four months even though i got pregnant that very night.” I growled angrily, crossing my arms over my chest and swollen belly.

“Because i managed to grab condoms, not my fault Chris was too busy fucking you into the mattress to notice until it was too late.” God, sometimes i really hated that man.

“You guys are having a boy, so good luck.” I reached for my coffee, knowing I wouldn’t be able to drink it when Kait was around.

She was extremely strict with my diet the moment word got out i was pregnant, we’d managed to keep it off the internet, no one but our families knew the truth. Also it was because Chris and I weren’t married yet and he wanted to surprise the world during a tv interview.

“She’s gonna be back in five minutes, so drink a little faster.” Seb smirked at me, keeping watch on the door.

“Yes, i know.” I finished the cup quickly, setting it on his side of the table so Kait wouldn’t know the truth.

He’d offered to vouch for me, saying that i had completely cut out coffee when in reality i hadn’t cut it off at all. Chris was just as strict with my diet, though he was a little more lenient when it came down to cravings. Seb was the same way for Kait. If she wanted chocolate chip cookies and chocolate milk, she got it right then and there.

“Ms. Kiefer? They’re ready for you to go on stage.” I nodded nervously, pushing up from the couch slowly.

Seb helped me out to where the door was, no one knew i was attending, except Chris of course. He’d been the genius behind everything, making the world wait to see why he was constantly gushing on twitter. There were many guesses that he was picking up another contract with Marvel, that was never it of course.

“Just wait until Chris heads over, you’ll know when he’s here.” I nodded at the stage hand, my hands clamming up instantly.

I nodded at her, glancing over where Seb was watching me, a small smile on his face. Kait would be with him in a few seconds, watching the events unfold. The fake door opened almost too slowly, Chris standing right on the other side with a wide grin on his face.

“Well hello there darling, what brings you here?” They were doing a skit, where i was supposed to show up at Chris’s home to announce something, only it was true.

“Hello Chris, I’m here because i need to tell you something important.” I stepped onto the stage, clutching my belly that seemed to stretch out for miles.

Chris feigned shock, jaw dropping open as he stared down at me, eyes glancing between my belly and my face.

“Is it mine? Are you sure?” I knew better than to laugh, to have people assume this was all a joke.

“Yes, you’re having a girl on september eighteenth.” Chris’s smile stretched over his face beautifully, hands cupping my belly.

The crowd cheered loudly, the realization settling in. Jimmy ran over to where we were, congratulating Chris and I.

“Oh my god, congrats you two! This is huge.” I laughed softly, wrapping my arms around him as best i could.

“We found out six months ago, wanted to surprise everyone with the news. And here we are today, but that’s not all.” Chris stepped away from where i was, bending down onto one knee.

My hands flew up, covering my mouth in shock. This wasn’t in the books, neither of us had discussed this. Sebastian was in on it, that’s why he’d convinced Kait to leave the room so she could help give him the ring. It made so much sense.

“We’ve been together for almost two years, and it’s been the best three years of my life. I can’t imagine having anyone else by my side, nor having my children. You’re the only person I’ve truly opened myself up to and you’ve brought out the best there is in me. Will you do me the honor in becoming my wife?” Chris pulled the top open, revealing a beautiful diamond ring.

I couldn’t stop the tears if i tried, nodding almost frantically as i held my hand out for him to put the ring onto. He didn’t waste a single second, sliding the silver band onto my finger and standing back up, lips pressing onto my own. The crowd were still cheering, some even whistling.

“I’m gonna kick your ass when we get home, same to Sebastian and Kait.” I looked up at him, tears sliding down my cheeks in small rivers.

“I look forward to it baby, don’t keep us waiting too long.” Chris chuckled, wrapping his arms around my waist gently.

Lord, what was i going to do with this man after a few years. Well, I willingly am having his child, so I’m in this for the long haul i guess.

Present Day Eli and Haley were staring up at their fathers, eyes filling with tears as Kait and I struggled to even lift ourselves off the couch. Why had we agreed to get pregnant a second time? I wasn’t entirely sure about that. Though it was only halfway through our second pregnancy, it didn’t really help in the long run. Not when there were two toddlers running around screaming at one another and their fathers.

“Haley Lynn! Get your butt over here right now.” I stamped my foot, staring down at the little girl that was a spitting image of her father.

She put her head down, stepping over to where i was slowly. Chris was panting, stepping up behind her, clearly he needed to start hitting the gym again.

“Did you hit your brother? And don’t you dare lie to me.” She didn’t answer, kept pouting her lip at the floor.

“He hit me first.” She mumbled her response, stepping closer to where Chris was.

“Haley, you can’t hit your brother just because he hit you, you need to come tell me or daddy that Eli’s being mean and we’ll take care of it.” I groaned, rubbing the side of my belly lightly.

Neither mine, or Kait’s second pregnancy were going according to plan, considering the fact our doctors had put us on strict bed rest for our third trimesters. And with the boys having to be gone so often, well our doctors weren’t going to be happy that we hadn’t really listened to them very often.

“I’ll have Eli say he’s sorry, and that it’s not nice to hit you baby, but you gotta tell us if he hits you again, okay?” I knelt down slowly, being careful not to jostle myself too much.

“Okay mommy.” Haley nodded, stepping over into my arms.

I could faintly hear Kaitlyn yelling for Seb, telling him she needed to have a talk with Eli.

“Go and play sweetheart, mommy will call you when it’s time for lunch.” I kissed her cheek, pushing to stand up and almost failing.

Chris’s arms were around me faster than i could blink, at least he was close enough this time. I didn’t want to worry him, to promise him, and Kait, and Seb that i was fine. We all knew deep down that wasn’t the case. Especially after my doctor gave me much stricter rules on being at home, Kait’s weren’t as strict.

“Babe, i think you need to lay back down for a few.” Chris’s tone left no room for argument, i was going to have to lay down whether i wanted to or not.

I nodded slowly, trudging down to the bedroom that was farthest away from everyone. A way to help me relax as Chris had once put it. The bed was just big enough for two people, or one very pregnant person. Maybe Dodger would end up sleeping by my feet again, unless Chris made him stay out by the living room.

I wasn’t entirely sure when i’d managed to fall asleep, but judging by how dark the sky was, i could only assume it was way after dinner time. The sound of laughter floating almost airily throughout the house.

“This feels so much better, no worrying about your annoying wife anymore.” Kait snickered to herself, Chris laughing loudly right after.

“Trust me, i know.” I could practically hear the eye roll from him.

I pushed myself up from the bed slowly, keeping a protective hand on my belly as i made my way down to the dining room. The moment i stepped inside everything seemed off, Chris wasn’t wearing his wedding ring, and Kait was no longer pregnant. What the hell?

“Why’d you even marry her in the first place? She’s such an annoying little twat.” Seb spat the words harshly, sipping from his wine as he glanced over at Kait.

“Had to get a couple kids outta her before i kicked her to the curb.” Chris merely shrugged, sipping from his beer.

“Chris?” I stepped over to him, placing a hand on his shoulder.

He didn’t seem to respond to my words, none of them did. It was almost as if i didn’t exist to them. That i was merely a pawn in their game that they were playing, nothing more.

~~~ I lunged forward in the bed, a scream tearing through my throat as tears streamed down my cheeks. It felt so real, all of it felt so utterly real. Chris came barreling into the room, clutching the baseball bat Kait had bought for protection a few months back.

“Baby? What’s wrong? Are you hurt?” Chris dropped the bat onto the floor, stepping over to where i was on the bed.

“Oh Chris.” I lunged into his arms, tears soaking the front of his shirt as my emotions began to get the better of me. I couldn’t stop them if i tried.

He didn’t say anything, moving to sit us on the bed as he held my body tight against his own, as best he could of course. Kait was next to come into the room, followed by Seb who looked as if he’d been passed out asleep.

“What happened? We heard someone scream?” Kait took the bat, stepping into the room to look over everything.

“I had a nightmare.” I gripped onto Chris’s shirt tighter, burying my face in the soft fabric.

Seb stepped over slowly, picking me up and out of Chris’s arms. I wanted to protest, that i felt better in Chris’s arms before i realized where he was heading. We were going down to our actual bedroom, where everyone slept.

“No more sleeping by yourself, one of us will be around to take a nap with you next time.” Seb laid me down onto the bed, waiting for Kait and Chris to join us.

The bed was almost too full with everyone in it, Dodger sleeping soundly in his own bed by dresser that Chris had gotten for me and the new baby.

It clicked then, there was nothing bad going on. Just a family that all loved one another, with a few kids thrown into the mix as well. Nowhere else I’d rather be.

#personal fic

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majesty-madness · 6 years

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Kakashi’s Family: Book 2 (Kakashi’s fate)

6-The Truth

Kakashi waited outside in the hallway of the hospital. He was worried beyond belief, he wasn't sure if Kana was giving birth or if it was a false alarm. "I hope she's alright" Kakashi mumbled to himself rubbing the back of his neck as a sign to show that he was nervous. Soon a doctor came out of the room where Kana was taken to after he'd arrived at the hospital. Kakashi quickly drew his absolute attention toward the doctor "How is she?" he asked in a sense of anxiousness.

"She's fine. She didn't give birth, she was just having some strong contractions. However with the contractions that she was having are a sign that she might give birth soon, its not uncommon. They happen all the time" The doctor explained very carefully of what could happen.

"How soon could she give birth?" Kakashi asked with relief knowing Kana wasn't hurt at all.

The doctor sighed "It's different with every woman but usually a week after they have contractions like the ones she experienced an hour ago".

"I see" Kakashi's gaze lowered to the floor, he was afraid about Kana giving birth anytime soon. He had bad feeling about the figure that tried to kidnap Kana, he had a feeling that the figure was behind the attack of the village and that he would return. Very soon.

A moment of silence went by with the doctor and Kakashi just standing there until the doctor broke the silence from continuing "You're more than welcome to go see her now" the doctor gestured toward the door that would lead to Kana.

"Thank you" Kakashi nodded walking passed the doctor, toward the door and opened it, revealing a bright room with his wife resting in the bed.

"Hey" Kana smiled looking his way.

"Hey" Kakashi returned her beautiful smile and headed over to the bedside. He gently held her hand in his and he sat by her side "How are you feeling?" he asked softly while caressing her hand with his thumb.

Kana sighed "I'm okay now, the pain went away a while ago" Kana explained placing a hand to her stomach, As a sign that she worried for her baby, she was scared of something happening to it.

"The doctor said that you could give birth soon" Kakashi stated wanting Kana to be fully aware of the situation but she already knew.

Kana nodded "I know. The doctor told me when you were in the waiting room", everything was silent for a moment both adults were just unsure of what to say. They both had a bad feeling about the attack on the village and hoped the baby wouldn't come as soon as they were told it would.

Suddenly, to interrupt the silence, someone knocked on the door. "Come in" Kakashi called as he turned himself toward he door. The lovers eyes were wide with surprise when the person who entered the room was none other than the Third Hokage himself. "Lord Hiruzen, what are you doing here?" Kana asked with a hint of shock.

"I'm here to discuss a very important matter with you, and I brought your parents along because they need to here this" He gestured to the door as then Kana's parents soon walked through the door with a look of shame covering their faces.

"What's going on here, Sir?" Kakashi asked in a respectful manner of his Hokage.

"The attack on the village today happened exactly twenty years ago, and the same person is behind it" The Hokage explained in a serious tone, to let them know that he was not joking in the slightest.

"Okay but I don't understand what this has to do with my parents" Kana pointed out in confusion as to where this was going.

"It happened on the day you were born. This person isn't after the village, he's after you" Lord Hiruzen stated, one-hundred percent sure that Kana was being targeted.

Kana suddenly felt scared, nervous, worried and lots of other emotions mixed together. She didn't know what to say, she knew he was telling the truth but wasn't sure if she believed it herself. This all seemed to be happening so fast, an overwhelming feeling like this information was toppling down onto her and they haven't even hardly got into the details yet.

"Why is he after me?" Kana finally replied after the several seconds of silence.

"We are not entirely sure but for now I'm going to assign a few Anbu black ops to protect you until we can capture this man" Hiruzen stated not wanting to take any chances with Kana getting hurt, even if her last wasn't Uchiha anymore, he respected her because she was from the Uchiha blood line and respected for her incredible skills as a ninja.

Kana nodded in agreement "Okay, but Lord Third do you mind if I talk to my parents alone?" she asked moving her gaze away from him to the other side of the room.

"No I don't mind at all. You want to know more, I understand. Take all the time you need, I must be going now anyway" Lord Hiruzen sympathized as he left the room and eventually the hospital.

Kakashi looked to his wife while still holding her hand "Do you want me to wait outside?"

"No, I think you deserve to know this so please stay. And besides I feel better having by my side" Kana admitted with a hint of pink covering her cheeks.

Kakashi smiled and tenderly kissed her head to reassure that he wouldn't leave. Azumi and Saku walked closer beside Kana, they were finally ready to tell Kana the truth "Twenty years ago, that man came to village searching for you. We weren't sure what he wanted but all we knew is that he was after you. He nearly destroyed the village looking for us, and nearly killed us in the process. But the thing we are sure of is that he wanted the power of the Uchiha, and he sensed a great power coming from you" Azumi took a pause, tears were beginning to form at the corners of her eyes while the memories of that day came flooding back "Ever since you joined the academy, your skills as a Uchiha have developed incredibly, we were proud but we were scared for you as well. We were afraid that he would come back and now he has." Azumi wiped her tears before they could fall.

Kana looked away from her parents in anger "Why did you wait until now to tell me all this?" she mumbled in a tone of frustration.

"We were just trying to protect you." Saku replied for Azumi. She looked as though she were about to cry.

"But it was my right to know" Kana hissed turning back to her parents.

"We know and it was a mistake to keep it from you, but you have to understand we were doing what we thought was best" Azumi finally responded, her voice cracking a bit.

Kana sighed trying to maul everything over. She was still pissed that her own parents kept something like this away from her. It was always her right to know. All her emotions were clashing together, she was sad, scared, angry, nervous and above all else worried for her family. This man could go after the most important people in her life, her parents, her brother, her husband,....her baby. She couldn't bare the thought of losing any of them. They were all too important to her and she loved them so dearly. She would do anything to protect them, just like they would do anything to protect her. Now the question was: When would this man come back? And how soon would he be returning?

#fanfic #fanfiction #naruto #naruto shippuden #kakashi #kakashi hatake #angst #pregnancy #uchiha #kana uchiha #oc #leaf village #family #villian #romance

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aizawamizuchi · 3 years

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Slow Healing

Mizuchi was on the scene when they caught Overhaul. Eri was rushed to the hospital along with the other students that were hurt. Nighteye was badly injured, she stood near his bedside with tears in her eyes. He smiled at her sadly, "Mizu, I'm sorry for everything. You are a great hero and I cherished the times that we worked together in our youth," he said gripping her hand.

Aizawa rubbed his wife's back, Mizuchi kissed Nighteye on the forehead and held back a sob.

They both worked under All Might at the beginning of their hero careers. When Nighteye left Mizuchi stayed. They never spoke after that, until now. "Don't blame yourself Mizu. I know why you stayed, he needed you and he still does," Nighteye said looking over at All Might who was also crying. "Keep looking after him," Nighteye said.

Mizuchi nodded, "Always."

Aizawa pulled Mizuchi to the side to comfort her. He held her as she silently cried into his chest. They all stayed with Nighteye until he passed. Everyone left the room silently comforting one another. A nurse hesitantly walked up to Mizuchi, "Excuse me I am sorry to interrupt, but the doctors would like you to do a trauma diagnosis on Eri," the nurse said.

Aizawa glared at the nurse, "Can you give her a minute? Are there not any other therapists in this hospital?" he asked irritated.

Mizuchi touched her husband's arm, "It's ok Sho, I will be down there in a few minutes." she said dismissing the nurse.

Mizuchi went into the bathroom and cleaned up her face. Once she got herself together she made her way to Eri's room. She was still in her hero suit. When switching roles from hero to therapist she would change but, this was an emergency. She opened the door and silently made her way in.

Eri was sitting with her back to Mizuchi, she walked up to her bed.

"Eri…"

The young girl turned around and her eyes went wide, "You….you're… a hero Mizumi," she said in a whisper. The tension slowly started to leave the girl's body.

Mizuchi sat down at the edge of the hospital bed, "How are you feeling?" she asked.

Eri shrugged, "Ok," she said.

Mizuchi saw her tools on a nearby table, she reached for her file folder. She pulled out a chart with faces on it. "Can you chose which one you are?" she said with a kind smile holding up the chart.

Eri pointed to the worried face, Mizuchi frowned, "Why are you worried Eri?"

"Is Mr. Deku and Lemillion ok?" she asked looking up at Mizuchi with sad eyes.

Mizuchi's heart melted, "Yes, they are going to be fine," she said reassuring her.

Mizuchi did a few more tests on Eri and what she was learning made her stomach churn. Overhaul used this young girl over and over. Breaking her body down and rebuilding her, the amount of trauma she has been through was disturbing.

By the end of their talk Mizuchi had gathered all the info she needed to start Eri's file. As she was putting her things away Eri asked her a question, "Is he going to find me?" Eri asked her eyes filling with tears.

Mizuchi looked into the girl's eyes, "As long as I am around, no one will ever hurt you again."

Tears fell from Eri's eyes, she leaped forward and buried her face in Mizuchi's chest. She wrapped her small arms around Mizuchi's waist. The woman froze, they were all told not to touch Eri due to her quirk. Yet the girl was touching her now and nothing was happening.

Mizuchi slowly wrapped her arms around Eri, embracing her in a warm hug.

Shouta was outside the room standing watch. He didn't hear them talking anymore and he started to worry. He cracked open the door and saw his wife hugging the girl. At first, he was going to intervene but, he saw that his wife was fine.

Mizichi felt like she was being watched, she opened her eyes and saw her husband. She smiled at him letting him know that she was fine. He nodded and closed the door.

After her session with Eri, the couple went back to the dorms together with the other students. Deku and Mirio stayed at the hospital for another night for observation. The next day Mizichi had a meeting with the students that were on the scene.

It was her job to assess any mental damage that any student may have from a traumatic event. Most were mourning Nighteye's death which she was expecting. After she was done with her sessions she had to go back to the hospital. She had three more sessions to do with Deku, Mirio, and Eri. Both the boys were deeply saddened by Nighteye, as well as what they saw underground during the mission.

Eri was more talkative today since she had time to rest. She was staying at the hospital while the police were deciding what to do with her. For the time being Mizuchi was Eri's personal therapist. Once Mizichi was done for the day she left the hospital feeling drained. As she walked out she saw that All Might was waiting for her holding a bag of onigiri. He smiled at her holding up the bag, she smirked at her mentor with exhaustion.

They walked to a near by park and sat on a bench. They eat their food in silence for a moment, enjoying the still of the evening. "You've been busy all day," All Might said breaking the silence.

"Yep, just the usual post incident clean up," Mizuchi said taking a sip of her drink.

All Might shrugged, "I wouldn't say usual, you have been a Pro for 10 plus years and this is your first loss."

Mizuchi put her drink down and lowered her head.

"Have you made an appointment with your therapist yet? If you haven't I advice you to do it tonight. It's only been a day and Aizawa told me that you skipped breakfast and lunch. You've been burying yourself in your work all day. You only do that when you are trying to avoid your own problems. Do you need to talk?" All Might said turning to her.

Tears ran down Mizuchi's face, she tried to speak but she chocked on her words. All Might pulled her into his chest. Mizuchi sobbed into the man's chest. "If I was just quicker!" she cried.

"I could have saved him, it just keeps replaying in my head! Everything I could have done! It…It…IT SHOULD HAVE BEEN ME!" she sobbed gripping All Might's shirt.

All Might placed a hand on Mizuchi's head, tears started to run down his face. "Mizu you listen to me. There is nothing you can do to change what happened. I know it hurts but, he is gone sweetheart. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry." he said as he started to choke on his words.

"This pain you feel has been felt by every Pro Hero in the world. Even Pro's like you can not escape this pain. This will not be the last person you lose in the field. Remember this feeling, remember why you wanted to become a Pro. Keep fighting for those who can no longer fight." All Might said holding her by the shoulders.

She cried silently and he wiped her face, he did not see a woman in front of him. He saw the young girl that he decided to take under his wing all those years ago. Mizuchi has always been a caring hero. That's why he called her sweetheart, because she truly was one. He remembered the day she excepted his offer.

Mizuchi shifted in the chair while All Might looked out of his office window. "So have you thought about my offer? I heard that Endeavor also offered you a position," All Might said looking out at the city.

"I have… I turned him down." she said looking at her hands.

"Why?" All Might asked. He assumed that the girl would say she rather work for the #1 Hero instead.

"Because he told me I could not go to school and be a Pro Hero!" she said with frustration in her tone.

He looked over his shoulder at her, "You want to go to University?" he asked.

Mizuchi stood up, "Yes, I want to be come a therapist and a Pro Hero. I believe that mental health is something in hero society that is ignored. I grew up in hero society and I've seen a need for it."

All Might turned around fully, "Do you believe that you can do hero training and school?" he asked.

"Yes I can, I promise you I will work hard," she said bowing to him.

He looked at her for a moment, he walked out from behind his desk and stood in front of her. She looked up at him as he held out his hand to her. "Welcome to the agency, Sweetheart."

She has grown so much since that day. All Might has seen Mizuchi rise to the top ten Pro hero list in Japan and top 20 worldwide. He was very proud of his old sidekick. She broke off from his side after working beside him for 6 years. Started her own agency with a focus on mental health. She achieved her goal and All Might felt like a prideful father figure to her.

Mizuchi was silent for a moment before she looked up at him, "I'll keep fighting, for them." she said referring to Nighteye and her father who passed when she was young.

She smiled and wiped the tears off All Might's face, he laughed, "I came to comfort you and here you are comforting me." he said jokingly.

"I think we both can comfort each other simultaneously," she said with a smile.

All Might smiled at her, "I agree."

#mha fanfiction #bnha oc #aizawa x oc #aizawa shouta #mizuchi #aizawa mizuchi #eri bnha #bnha deku #ua staff

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thathpheadcanongirl · 6 years

Text

The Waiting Room (a Tonks family fic)

(Well, here's a nice, sad fic for the soul! I recently moved and I'm feeling kinda down, so what do I do? Write bad stuff happening to characters I love. Mind you, I always had this headcanon, because diagnosed illness is so common and I didn't want everyone in the first Wizard War to die by the hands of a Death Eater. If anyone is triggered by death or cancer, please, do not read! I've had some people in my life pass away from cancer, so this topic is very prevalent to me. I don't go into detail here, but it's heavily implied. Enjoy reading and get ready to feel.)

c. 1977

Andromeda did not like the Muggle Hospital, she figured quickly. Everything was quiet and dreary. She was taught, long ago, that Muggles were babaric in their medical practices. Opening each other willy-nilly, poking and prodding wounds for sport. Her Uncle Orion used to say if Muggles ever found out about Witches and Wizards, they'd want to disect and extract the magic out of them for their own gain. She knew now that those teachings were wrong. Did Muggles have the power to heal, especially when she has only ever seen them do nothing to help them?

Her eyes focused on the only bright thing in the room; three-year-old Nymphadora sported bright yellow hair, undoubtedly mimicking a cartoon character she saw on the television. The toddler occupied her time with a toy on the waiting room table. The beads clashed together as Nypmphadora clumsily slid them all from one side of the wired paths to the other. The entire situation would have made Andromeda smile on any other day. But today, she could barely hold in a frown.

"Daddy, look!" Nymphadora exclaimed, proudly showing off all of the beads on one side of the puzzle.

The man in question was beside himself with worry, Andromeda knew. Ted, usually warm and jovial, was rigidly bouncing one leg up and down in his seat, staring into space. Hair disheveled, bags under his eyes, and shirt not fully tucked in, Ted hadn't had a decent night's sleep since they found out what his mother had been hiding from them.

Clearly not satisfied with not getting recognition, Nymphadora stood up, large wired puzzle in hand, and poked Ted repeatedly. "Daddy!" She whined.

Ted blinked once and looked down at his daughter's expectant gaze. "That's lovely, Dora," he said, no amount of true happiness in his reply.

Nymphadora sensed this and pouted, hair slowly returning to its original black.

"Come here, Nymphadora," Andromeda beckoned.

Her little girl teetered over, dragging the puzzle behind her. "I just wanted to show Daddy what I did," she sniffled.

Andromeda gave her daughter a small smile that she tried to have reach her eyes. "I know. But Daddy's not feeling well."

"Like Grammy?"

"Yes," her breath hitched a sigh. "Like Grammy."

They didn't have the heart to tell her that her Grammy, Andromeda's mother-in-law, was dying. The four Tonks's have been inseparable since Nymphadora was born. They even managed to go into hiding together when word went around that dark wizards and witches were hunting down Muggles. Just when they thought they were safe, a terrible illness had struck the poor woman, leaving the family torn and confused. Nevertheless, they never left her side, making sure she knew she wasn't alone.

That's not to say that they didnt suffer a great deal as well. They were all living in Ted's childhood home, which was supported by Winnie Tonks for years on her own. It was honestly a blessing for Ted to be enrolled in a private magical school, for Winnie usually worked herself to the bone so Ted always had a trip or gift on holiday. And when Ted dropped out early his Seventh Year shortly before a pregnant and disowned Andromeda, Winnie kept her diagnosis to herself. She helped Ted find a decent job, but her illness weighed heavily on her mind.

When it became to apparent that something was wrong, Ted swore he'd find a cure with magic. But this was beyond any spell. This was an illness that spread throughout her body so much that no amount of magic could've worked. She would have been alive, but not exactly living, and she didn't want that. The only request she had was to spend the rest of her time surrounded by smiles and good company. And that request put so much strain on Ted that only Andromeda saw his true feelings.

Andromeda's heart sank when Ted dropped his head in his hands, shoulders shaking.

"Why is Daddy crying?" Nymphadora asked innocently.

"He's just worried about Grammy," Andromeda replied, feeling her tears coming in. She begged, for her daughter's sake, for her tears to go away, but they betrayed her and did just the opposite. "We all are."

Andromeda always took pride in how intelligent her daughter was at such a young age. In hindsight, sheilding her from sadness and death was futile.

They both looked at Ted on the opposite side of the desolate room, silently crying into his hands. Nymphadora slid off of Andromeda's lap, leaving her puzzle behind, and slowly walked toward her father.

"Daddy?" She whispered.

Andromeda watched, barely holding it together herself, as her brilliant three-year-old took Ted's hands away his face. The girl didn't flinch at her father's red, blotchy eyes. In fact, she crawled her way onto his lap, cupped his face, and said, "I'll miss her too."

If Andromeda fought her tears before, there was no stopping them now as Ted embraced Nymphadora for dear life and outwardly sobbed. Andromeda wasn't one for such emotion and preferred to keep her distance, but she knew Ted was different. She also walked over, a little wobbly from her own grief, and allowed Ted to drape an arm around her for support. She couldn't deny the need for physical comfort as well.

This wasn't fair. This couldn't be happening...

After a few moments of Ted's shallow sobs, the Muggle doctor entered the waiting room.

"We're all finished," he announced gently. "Everything seems to be on schedule. She's comfortable now, if you'd like to return to the room..." He gestured to the door beside him.

Ted sniffled and quickly brushed his tears away. He took a deep, steadying breath.

Andromeda took that moment to reach for her husband's shaking hand and squeezed affectionately. There was a silent understanding that passed between them. Yes, this was hard and it felt unfair, but Winnie Tonks's imminent death could have been worse, especially with the threat of war weighing heavily upon them. Despite his broken heart, Ted wiped away the remnants of Andromeda's tears and stood up with Nymphadora in his now sturdy arms.

As they walked, Andromeda noticed Ted's stony face soften. The grief seemed to wash away from him with every step closer to his mother's hospice care unit and it was replaced with his usual warm demeaner.

Before they opened the door, Ted glanced at Nymphadora's confused frown. "Now there, luv. Don't be down. We're gonna see Grammy." He booped her on the nose, which caused her hair to turn back to its bright yellow. "There's my girl," he smiled.

And the rest of the evening was spent around Winnie's bedside, joking, laughing, watching Muggle game shows on the television, and reminiscing about good times. Ted even raved about out how wonderfully smart Nymphadora was for solving such an intricate puzzle in the waiting room earlier and he insisted on her doing it again for everyone to see.

They ignored Winifred's frail body, sunken-in and thin when she used to be so full and rosy-cheeked. Her light-hearted personality still lingered in her eyes, but they noticeably glossed over every once in a while from pain. They knew her body wanted her to sleep, but she willed herself to stay awake with her family.

Andromeda was weary of Ted's change in attitude when he was in the presence of his mother. But she also supposed he did not want her to see his pain and sadness. It wasn't too long ago he was helplessly sobbing in the waiting room. There had also been times in which he'd break things out of frustration or curse at the sky asking out, "This is the thanks I get for trying to keep my family safe?!"

Ted only ever had his mother. Without her, he and Andromeda would be on their own taking care of their little Nymphadora. And truth be told, they were scared. But none of that mattered now.

With war and death looming all around, by God, the Tonks family was grateful to savor every possible moment they knew they could with each other. Life was limited and death lingered in the room. But there was a sense of peace, knowing it was on nature's terms.

#tedromeda #ted tonks #andromeda tonks #nymphadora tonks #dark!fic #sad!fic #family #death #I'm sorry for all the dark feels #harry potter fanfiction #hp fanfiction #love #hurt #comfort #tonks #for the soul

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allthingsteenwolf20 · 7 years

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Hunted - Part Two (Pack Mom)

“Momma this is Nolan. He helped me get away from one of the hunters at school and now they know he betrayed them and they’re after him too. One of them did this to him. We have to help him.” Liam explained to her. “Sweetheart, in very proud of you for doing the right but are you sure you want to do this?” Y/N asked him glancing at him through the mirror. “I’m sure momma. We have to help him. He helped me.” Liam told her. Y/N smiled and nodded. “That’s my boy. Ok sweetie, we’re almost home. Everything will be ok.” Y/N reassured him. Nolan rest his head against Liam’s shoulder and whined in pain. “Nolan, sweetie. It’s ok. Try and stay awake. We’re almost there. I’m going to get you all fixed up, honey. You’ll be ok.” She cooed reassuring him. After seeing Nolan’s health deteriorate, she put her foot down and sped to the loft pulling up outside within a few minutes. Y/N tossed Liam her keys and the young beta unlocked the door. Y/N sat at the back and brushed Nolan’s hair away from his face. “Nolan, sweetie. It’s ok, we’re here. Everything’s going to be ok. Can you get up for me, honey? I need you to walk. Can you do that for me?” She cooed slowly helping the young boy out of the car. She wrapped an arm around his waist and placed the other on his tender chest as she guided him into the loft. Nolan winced at her touch and whined in pain. Everything hurt. Y/N sat Nolan down on the couch and she could see his head slowly tilting to the side. The poor thing was so tired. “Nolan, honey. Can you hear me?” Y/N asked him. Nolan whined in pain. “Sssh it’s ok. You’re safe now.” Y/N reassured him. “Pl…‘se…..please don’t hurt me…” Nolan cried in fear as tears escaped from his eyes. “Sssh ssssh, it’s ok sweetie. I promise no one’s going to hurt you. You’re ok, you’re safe.” She told him gently placing him on the couch. “Stay here. I’m going to get the first aid kit to clean you up. Liam honey, could you find Nolan a shirt and some pants as well please?” Y/N told Nolan and then called out to Liam who nodded and scurried off to his room. Y/N took out her phone to text Derek that they had some company with them. She then shoved her phone into her pocket went to the hallway closet to take out a small blanket and face towel and then into the kitchen to take out a small bowl filling it with warm water and reaching into one of the cupboards to take out gauze, cotton wool, swabs, antiseptic solution and wipes carrying it all into the kitchen and setting it down on the coffee table. She took off her shoes and jacket leaving them in the hallway before putting on her slippers and making her way back to the kitchen to get Nolan a glass of water carrying it to the living room. “Sweetie, it’s ok to be scared but don’t worry you’re good in hands.” She reassured him smelling the fear and anxiety roll off of him. “Jus’…Jus’ don’t hur’ me” the young beaten boy pleaded with sadness in his voice as he looked up at her with his large glassy piercing baby blue eyes. “Sssh, I promise you’re safe sweetie. Do you think you could drink some of this water?” She asked him slowly getting up and sitting beside him as she held the glass of water in her hands. Nolan slowly nodded at her. “That’s it, good boy.” She cooed as she lifted the glass bringing it to Nolan’s lips and smiled as the young boy began to gulp it down immediately. Once Nolan had finished his water, Y/N set the glass on the table and then kneeled down in front of him grabbing a packet of antiseptic wipes and ripping it open with her teeth. “This is going to hurt a little so I need you to be really brave. Can you do that, honey?” She asked him. Nolan hesitated and stared at Y/N’s expression. She was calm and offered him a friendly smile. Nolan gave her a week smile and simple nod. Y/N gently took Nolan’s face into the palm of her hand and began to dab at the cuts with the wipe making Nolan flinch or whine in pain every so often. “Sssh almost done, sweetie.” She cooed continuing to dab away the blood on his face. A few minutes of silence Nolan plucked up the courage to ask her some questions. “Your Liam’s mom?” Nolan asked quietly. Y/N smiled and nodded at him. “That’s right, honey. I’m Y/N.” She answered. “What are you?” Nolan asked her. She could hear his voice shaking and see the fear in his eyes. “I’m just like you. We all are. We just have a few extra bits, that’s all.” She reassured him. Nolan looked down at his hands as he fiddled with his fingers. After 20 minutes of cleaning him up, she helped him up the stairs and into the bathroom so he could relieve himself and have a quick hot shower before changing into some fresh clothes. “I’ll wait here in the bedroom, sweetie. It’s ok. Try to relax and after we’ll get you something to eat.” She told him with a loving smile. Nolan nodded and scurried into the bathroom. “Shout if you need anything, honey.” Y/N told him. She set up the hairdryer on the table along with some lotion. She set the fan heater on so the room could warm up. Y/N sat on the bed in the spare room and sighed waiting for Nolan to finish. She rest her head in her hands and let out a big sigh. “Momma…?” Liam called as he stood against the door frame. “Hi baby, is everything ok?” Y/N smiled up at him and brushed her hair away from her face. Liam shook his head and gave her a nervous smile. “Are you mad at me, momma?” Liam asked her. “No baby, of course not. I’m proud of you for the doing the right thing and wanting to help that boy regardless of what happened.” Y/N told him getting up and wrapping her arms around him and pressing a loving kiss to his forehead. “What’s going to happen to him?” Liam asked her. Y/N smiled and brushed his sandy brown hair away from his face and pressed another kiss to his nose. “We’re going to do everything we can to help him. Your dad comes home later tonight. I already told him we have some company with us so he’ll know what to do but right now Nolan is scared and he doesn’t know who to trust so we have to show him that we’ll protect him and he’s safe here with us” Y/N told him. Liam nodded and rested his head against her chest. The door to the bathroom opened and out came a very shy and wet Nolan dressed in his fresh clothes. He stood awkwardly waiting not wanting to ruin the moment between Liam and his mom. Y/N looked up at him with a small smile to see him wrapped up in a large bath towel with his hair dripping wet. “Feeling better, honey?” Y/N asked him. Nolan nodded shyly. Liam heard the door slide open downstairs and immediately picked up that Derek was back and rushed downstairs. “Who’s here…?” Nolan asked her nervously. “It’s ok, honey. It’s just my husband, Derek. We’ll go downstairs and meet him later ok?” She reassured him. She switched on the hairdryer and patted a spot on the bed for Nolan to sit down so she could dry his hair. “Is it ok if I dry your hair for you, sweetie? I don’t want you catching a cold.” She told him. Nolan gave her a small smile and nodded shyly. “Good boy. Then we’ll head downstairs and get you something to eat. You must be hungry.” She told him. After drying his hair, she took the lotion from the bedside table and gently applied it to his face being careful of all the cuts and bruises. “Good job, sweetheart. Let’s head downstairs.” She told him standing up. Nolan stood up but stared at her nervously fiddling with the hem of his shirt. “It’s ok, honey. I promise, you’re safe.” Y/N smiled reassuring him as she gently ran her fingers through his hair and stroked his cheek with the pad of her thumb. She smiled and held her hand out for him to take giving him a smile silently telling him it was ok. At first Nolan hesitated but he really was hungry so he took her hand and let her guide him to the kitchen. “Hey baby.” Derek called walking over to her embracing her in a hug and pressed a loving kiss to her lips. He looked at the younger boy cowering behind her. “You must be Nolan. I’m Derek.” the older alpha introduced himself and held his hand out to shake his but the younger boy hid behind Y/N. She chuckled and wrapped an arm around him. “It’s ok, sweetie. Derek won’t bite.” Y/N chuckled. Nolan looked up at the older alpha with a nervous smile. “Do you like pizza? We have some leftover from earlier today.” Derek told him. Y/N followed behind him in the kitchen letting Nolan sit down as she plated up some pizza for him along with a glass of orange juice. “Eat up, sweetie. You must be hungry.” She urged him. Liam walked into the kitchen a few minutes later and breathed a sigh of relief seeing that Nolan was ok. “Hey.” Liam called quietly giving the younger smile a small smile. “Hey,” Nolan replied. “How’re you doing?” Liam asked sitting on the chair beside him at the table. Nolan shrugged in response unsure what to make of the couple especially Y/N. She was extremely loving and motherly but she wasn’t human and that still scared him. “Can I talk to you for a minute?” Y/N asked the older alpha who nodded in response. “I’ll be in the living room, sweetie. Call me if you need anything.” She told him with a loving smile and gently ruffled his hair. “I’ll take care of it, mom.” Liam told her. “Thank you, baby.” Y/N smiled in response. Y/N and Derek entered the living room. “You do realise we have to talk to him about everything that happened. Not just what happened with Liam but with the hunters. If he turned his back on them then can we really trust him?” Derek asked her. “I know and you’re right. I’m still mad about what happened to Liam but he was the one who called me to him. If Liam’s giving him a chance then so should we. Maybe he can help us?” Y/N told him. “Baby, I get that you want to help him but please be careful. Remember he sided with the hunters in the first place. I don’t want you, Liam or anyone we care about getting hurt because you let your guard down.” Derek warned her. “I know and I’ll be careful but right now he’s terrified not only of the supernatural but of the hunters too. He doesn’t know where he stands in all of this. If we could show him that we’re not all monsters then maybe there’s a chance at stopping all of this. We have to atleast try.” Y/N told him. Derek looked at her for a few minutes and then sighed before nodding. “Ok, one chance. That’s all he gets.” Derek told her. Y/N nodded and wrapped her arms around his neck. “I love you, Derek Hale.” She smiled and pressed a kiss to his lips. “Let’s hope he doesn’t get us into any trouble.” the older alpha replied still unsure as to whether or not he had made the right decision.

#teen wolf #teen wolf pack mom #pack mom #pack mom imagines #reader #derek hale #liam dunbar #nolan holloway #scott mccall #stiles stilinski #lydia martin #malia tate #peter hale

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seth-kate · 7 years

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-an old love of mine (i)

Request: Hello there, I just wanted to know if you got my previous request: Could you please write a Jon Snow imagine the reader grew up with the starks and formed a romantic relationship with Jon during that time, but she had to leave winterfell because her father married her off to some northern lord (one of the reasons why Jon decided to take the black), fast forward to Sansa and Jon trying to gather allies for battle of the bastards, they meet again and they realize their feelings only grew

a/n: hope you enjoy the first part!

“Married!” the outrageous cry of disbelief rings clear and high throughout the room. It seems the syllables are the only sounds for moments after, for the great and hulking lord that sits before the raging woman remains silent and tight lipped.

Sons had been hard to raise alone. Daughters were harder.

The theory had proven correct when his daughter had been born wailing and thrashing into the world, the whole of Torrhen’s Square and possibly the entire north witness to her rage. She was fearsome to behold then, a small and tiny thing full of her mothers despair. And now was the same; discontent and unadulterated anger flashing in her eyes and the light of the candles hanging from the walls bouncing off her face and making it all hollow lines and sharp angles.

There is an anger in her that is both wild and beautiful, and is something Lord Tallhart has been witness to only a certain amount of times. But it is not common for members of his house to hide such carnal rage within them. She should not be so familiar with such wildness. Perhaps being raised among the Stark children has finally made her into one of them, and now she holds in her an undomesticated vexation akin to a wolves.

“I will not be married father!” she is pacing now and the clink of her boots and the steel sword by her hip ring off the stone walls of Lord Tallhart’s chamber. Y/n had never been content with posing as a lady, and her attire that would rather be suited to a male made that fact all too clear to any one who set eyes on her. But her hair is still kept long and her face is far too beautiful to be kept behind the walls of Winterfell.

“You are a Lady and therefore you will fulfill your duty and marry a Lord. I have received almost close to thirty marriage proposals and suggestions from every corner of the North, and even one from Lord Randyll Tarly who suggests a fine and strapping young son Dickon as a husband for you” his words are quick and rough, and they do not comfort her in any way but rather irritate her further.

“I will not be sold to someone named Dickon! Or anyone for that matter” she is a graceful whirl of thick hair and clinking steel as she rushes towards her father who sits watching with eyes that are dimming with age each day “please father, you can’t make me. I want to stay here at Winterfell”

“You can not!” the words are harsher than he had intended them, but there is a truthful anger in them that he knows he has been holding back. His daughter may be young, perhaps a year or two younger than most are when married, but a union with someone of high birth is almost paramount at this stage.

Jon Snow watches with those black eyes that are deep with a love Lord Tallhart can not bear when he sees him watching his daughter, and it is this reason he must sell her off to someone of legitimate birth. Jon is not the only one who has a deep buried desire that seems to radiate from ever crevice of his being when he eyes y/n. Tallhart’s daughter seems to reciprocate the feelings that the Stark bastard all too plainly displays while in crowded rooms and beneath weirwoods at prayer; their eyes always meeting no matter the place.

“This is my home, and I belong here!” y/n cries, the barrier between childishness and maturity blurring as she yet again becomes a little girl in front of him. He wishes she were small enough to cradle and kiss and young enough to believe in stories and in her fathers promises. But she is not a child any longer but a woman, graceful and beautiful and fearsome to look upon and she must fulfill her duties.

“Torrhen Square is your true home, and when you are married some castle or holdfast will be your new one” her Lord Father tells her and there is a flash of something so sad within her eyes that he is reminded of her mother all too painfully.

“I never asked to be raised here, but you brought me here for Lady Catelyn to foster alongside Robb when mother died and when you went and fought with the King. You made this place my home by sending me here” she tells him, a dangerous softness replacing her tone of anger that had previously seeped her words with rage “but I do not wish to leave it”

“If it pleases you I will let you read these letters” her father gestures towards the now crinkled and folded letters that are covered in different scrawls all in black ink. Y/n can notice some of the sigils that are marked on them with wax, and some are too obscured for her to recognise, but she does not care. Names and sigils and house words do not matter to one that is already in love and marriage proposals are altogether shunned from her mind if it is not one from the only man she wishes to marry.

But you can never marry a bastard.The words are seething and sharp as they are whispered in her ear by her demonic, stalking conscious and she imagines a cloaked and hooded figure standing behind her with a cutting grin put there by her inner torment.

Jon Snow is all that matters but he is all she can not have. He is what the gods promise all maidens and what her mother would have wanted for her since he is so gentle and honest and good. But the gods have not listened to her prayers in years and her mother is dead. She can not imagine clearly her face anymore and can not begin to remember if Jon Snow would have been the type of man her mother would have wanted by her daughters side.

“I do not want to read them” her voice is rough and thick with Stark stubbornness. Sometimes she thinks the direwolf is the real sigil of her blood, but then she is reminded when everyone calls her Lady Tallhart, and whenever her father reminds her. Perhaps wanting to be a Stark so much is just another commonality she and Jon share; another lie they can convince themselves of every time they kiss. Like how they convince themselves they’ll somehow end up as man and wife.

“It would ease your mind a little if you were to read them, my dear. Some of the young men sound promising, if you were to read them yourself then you could choose more easily”

“I do not wish to choose any man because I have already chosen someone” there are tears upon her cheeks now that trail from her eyes in the utmost betrayal. Her eyes weep sadness from them as a weirwood weeps its blood red sap, but unlike a weirwood tree the person before her weeping eyes is not bowed in prayer. He is a raging figure of a lord; a shadow of the kind eyed man she used to cry for whenever he rode to battle. She will not weep for this man however; for his eyes are filled with too much rage.

He stands now, rough and huge hands placing flat on the table as they push himself from his chair. His shadow is large against the stone walls as the candlelight throws it against the grey and white like paint on an artists canvas. His eyes are bright and dangerous and she is suddenly filled with a great desire to stare at them as hard as she can manage, but he is much better at it than she is.

“I will not have you choose any man without my consent, and especially a man with such low birth as the one I know you are thinking of. You defy me by consorting with him in the godswood night after night to play out whatever fantasies you may still cling onto. You loved him as a child, I saw that I did, and I regret not stopping it sooner. But boys and girls tend to strike up feelings at that age that often temper with maturity. I recall young Robb once declared you his true love at the age of eight, but that changed and I had hoped Jon’s feelings would have too” there is a kindness in his tone at the end that contests with the anger on his face but she does not stop staring at him with discontent.

“But they haven’t” she tells him, her words wavering and flickering just like the candlelight as it burns around the room. Her fathers shoulders slump then and his grey eyes narrow as they drop to look upon the heavy oak desk that is littered with her marriage proposals.

“No they haven’t” Lord Tallhart once again looks at his daughter, her ethereal beauty magnified by the light of the room, but the sword at her hip contests with any claim she has to ladylike traits.

“Bastard or not father, I love him” she is pleading now she knows, something that she detests more than crying in front of people but is yet another thing she is doing as she feels the hot tears leak from her. She wipes them hurriedly from her face but it is of no use, they come as fast as she rids them “I won’t love anyone else”

“Your mother did not love me, she did not love me for many years in fact. She bore your brother out of duty for our marriage and even after he was born I could tell she only loved me a small measure for making her son. I loved her from the moment I saw her, red hair and a smile men would kill for and a heart just as sweet” he does not look so grim and formidable when he talks about her mother, and it softens her somewhat to hear it “but she did not love me, not until Benfred was four and was taken with a fever and was almost lost to us. I stayed with her by his bedside for almost a fortnight, and after that she loved me something terrible. What I am trying to tell you is that you may not love the man you are married to but you can learn to”

“I will never learn to love any other man” her words are ice; the very frost that coats the grounds of Winterfell and it is hard and dangerous and everlasting. Winter has come in the shape of her promise, and she knows as she looks at her father, that she can never take it back.

a/n: this is short and jon isn’t in it yet but he will be! more parts to come! and please send me in requests. at the moment I only write for Jon, Robb or Jaime so send requests for them please!

#jon snow x reader #jon snow imagine #jon snow fic #game of thrones imagine #got

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